this was requested by one of my lovely readers

warnings:

word count: body issues, lots of smut— unprotected sex and just a lot of sex besties. also this is unedited for right now don't hate me. i'll edit eventually.

similar to bad day, this chapter pulls inspiration from my own struggles with my body and how i feel about my body and how i think about my body when i see my reflection so it may be triggering to those who struggle with similar issues.

"hey, doll face! are you almost ready to go? we're gonna be late if we don't leave in five."

"yeah!" i call back, stumbling out of the bathroom and holding my dress up, struggling to reach the zipper. i try to tug it up as i wiggle my feet into a pair of heels higher than i would usually wear, but it keeps me from being terribly short.

i land in front of the mirror just as i get the zipper all the way up. i stare at my reflection and let out a heavy sigh, my confidence shrinking down to nothing. this dress looked much better when i tried it on in the store. when i tried it on, matthew made a big deal about making me feel good and he complimented me to the ends of the earth and kissed me all over and swore it hugged me in all the right places. i believed him in the moment but now, three weeks after buying it, i don't feel any of that glory anymore.

i had a cold last week that left me feeling like absolute crap and i slacked on my plan to eat healthy in preparation for this red carpet event. so all i can see when i look in the mirror is my stomach and my thighs, how the dress doesn't fall straight down and how it hugs every lump and bump i wanted to hide, how the color seems to wash out my skin tone and not accentuate it. i tug at the waistline of the dress but it doesn't budge. i try to fix my breasts, pulling them up and trying to show them off, but they just fall back down into almost nothing.

"babe!"

matthew has always been a stickler about arriving on time. i normally don't care but today, i'm wanting to crawl back into bed, curl up, and go to sleep forever. i pull at one of the spaghetti straps and then smooth my hand over my tummy, wishing so desperately that i could push it back in and disappear. then i squeeze my thighs together to try to make them appear smaller but somehow it makes them seem bigger.

my eyes tear up when i realize that i won't be looking good at this red carpet. i'm a nobody with a famous, handsome, actor boyfriend who could pull any lady he wants. why choose me when i look like this? he could very easily leave me and start dating a size zero model with no fat on her body who is famous and could make him even more famous. he could easily find someone way more beautiful than me.

"come on!"

groaning, i wipe my tears and grab my purse, walking as fast as i can down the stairs to my stressed out boyfriend. "sorry," i mumble under my breath, passing right by him and heading for the door. "let's just go."

"i've been trying to just go for the last ten minutes," matthew huffs out, stomping behind me and locking the front door. there is a sleek black car waiting to take us to the event and i smile at the driver as i climb in the backseat.

matthew falls into the seat beside me and shuts the door, crossing his arms over his chest. i stare out the window and he does the same, neither of us saying a word. i wrap my arms around my middle and try to shrink away into nothingness, taking my mind anywhere to avoid bursting into tears.

matthew's silence hurts more than his rigid body language and his rolling eyes and his attitude when he asked me to come downstairs. matthew wastes so much of his life complimenting me and telling me how beautiful i am and how i'm the most gorgeous woman in the world but i get nothing today. i usually brush him off and giggle and blush but revel in the praise. but there's no playful grabs and no gasps of wonder and absolutely no praise. just a flippant complaint about how i took forever to get ready.

does he think i look bad? is that why he didn't say anything? does he regret convincing me to buy this stupid red dress? does he agree that i looked better when i was trying it on and that i look horrible now? is he embarrassed to be bringing me to this high profile event? is he wishing he could bring that size zero model?

i think myself into a panic, shrinking further and further into the seat and dreading arriving at the event. but then matthew reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh. i watch as his fingers squeeze my leg and nearly whimper as i see my fat moving under the dress.

"sorry," matthew whispers so softly that i barely hear him. "i was being really pushy at home. i was just nervous about being on time."

"it's okay. i was taking forever to get ready," i shrug my shoulders dismissively. "no need to be sorry."

"you're just being quiet," he takes his hand back and tucks it in his pocket. "i didn't want you to think i was upset with you and i don't want want you to be upset with me."

"i don't think that and i'm not upset with you, okay?"

matthew doesn't get a chance to come up with an adequate response because we pull up to the event in record time. my hands instantly start to shake when i see a hoard of paparazzi around the carpet and i spot a few gorgeous women posing and looking effortlessly magnificent and stunning.

matthew easily gets out of the car and holds his hand out for me, beckoning me out. i consider, for a moment, shaking my head and telling him to go without me. but then he smiles and i melt, grabbing his hand and letting him help me out.

we step onto the fluffy red carpet and my heels sink in, making me stumble a bit. but matthew already has a tight grip around my waist and he holds me up, looking down to make sure i'm okay before we step onto the carpet. i try to remember all the times matthew and i talked about red carpets, how i should smile and what angles i should get the photographers to hit and how i should put my arm around him. but in this moment, all i can think about is how long i'll have to suck my stomach in and what way i need to position my hips so my waist looks slimmer and how i should shift my shoulders so my collarbones look more prominent.

matthew is none the wiser to my mindset as he smiles his gorgeous smile for everyone. he curbs the paparazzi screaming at us and complaining when we keep moving, he smiles effortlessly and always looks perfect when he does, and he doesn't ever contort his body to make one feature stand out. i get even more insecure when i realize for the million time that he's perfect the way he is, he's confident the way he is, and he doesn't feel the need to pose or even try in the slightest.

he leads me over to some women with microphones, hoping to do interviews with him. he barely notices when i slip away so he can do the interviews alone. i thought that not faking a smile any longer would help me feel better and would allow me to just sit back and admire my man, but i stand off to the side and watch every gorgeous woman pass me by, looking a million times better than me. i wrap my arms around myself protectively and try to sink further away and blend into the crowd.

matthew comes strutting over to me with his striking smile and grabs onto my hand, leading me inside of the building. the event, something for an unspecified charity, is in full swing. there are people everywhere in outfits that probably cost more than i make in a year and staff serving drinks and finger foods.

matthew leans in close to my ear as a waiter passes by us. "the food at these things usually suck. we can get something later, if you're hungry."

my hand just happens to slide down my front at that moment, grazing my belly and i have to use all of my energy to hide my grimace. "maybe."

matthew brings us to our table and we greet everyone else there, hugging and shaking hands. i watch as my boyfriend hugs this gorgeous model who is as tall as him with perfect blonde hair and striking blue eyes and the tiniest waist i've ever seen. her eyes sparkle as she chats to my man and holds his arms the same way i do when we hug. i have to rip my eyes away from them before i start to cry.

i fall into my chair and cross my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself from any eyes that could be stuck to me. i don't want anybody looking at me right now, especially not matthew.

he falls into the seat beside me with a loud huff and sips his glass of wine, giving me a smile. he apologizes quickly for taking so long with greeting everyone and i don't bother to say anything. the model starts talking to him again and i am left in the dust.

a few people come onto the stage to speak and talk about the charity and although i feel guilty about it, i completely tune them all out. the only thing i keep my focus on is hugging myself and trying not to cry.

the night drags on and on and on and on and i can't seem to get a break. matthew drags me around to meet all these beautiful, rich people and i just keep getting pushed further and further down. matthew doesn't mean to, i know he doesn't. he just wants me to meet his friends and colleagues. on any other day, i might actually attempt to make conversation. but today, i just want to go to bed.

it's nearly midnight by the time matthew tells me the car has arrived to take us home. i've barely said five sentences the whole night yet i'm utterly exhausted and worn out. i tug at the strap of my dress as matthew grabs my hand and leads me out of the event.

"that was crazy," matthew breathes as we get into the car and drive away. "there was way more people there than i expected. but i guess it was nice because i got to see all these people i haven't seen in forever."

i hum a lame response and place my hands in my lap, twisting my rings and tugging on my fingers. "hey," matthew places his hand atop mine, prying my hands apart so he can hold one, "are you okay? you've been really quiet tonight."

i nod my head with a lie that seems scarily second nature. "i'm just tired. i had fun tonight though."

he very clearly doesn't seem convinced, just watching me for a second before nodding back. "okay."

i whisper a thank you to the driver as he parks in front of our house and matthew does the same. he lets go of my hand as i stumble upon the driveway, fishing my keys out of my bag. and as soon as i've opened the door, i kick off my heels and drop my purse down, picking up the bottom of my dress and rushing upstairs.

i faintly hear matthew shutting the door and turning off lights as i get into the bedroom, tugging the zipper of my dress down and letting it fall to the floor in a useless, insignificant heap. i had spent two weeks picking out lingerie to surprise matthew with but that new set joins the dress on the floor, to be forgotten about.

i wipe off all my makeup as it gets smudged with tears, jumping into the shower as fast as i can to hide the evidence of intense emotion. i let the water wash away the makeup remnants and the elaborate hairstyle that took a whole bottle of hairspray to hold together, just to be ruined at the first chance i got.

i close my eyes and let the water drench me, and i barely even hear it when the bathroom door opens again. i place my hands against the wet tile and hang my head, instinctively shuffling forward when matthew opens the shower door. my body tenses when he places his hands on my hips, joining me under the stream of hot water.

"talk to me," he whispers, squeezing my skin. "something is wrong, i know there's something. i don't like seeing you like this."

i shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut to prevent more tears from being shed. then i press my legs together to try and make myself smaller, something i know could never happen when matthew is around. he holds me tighter, pressing his body against mine and it only makes the pain grow.

this is matthew, this is the man i've spent years with. he knows everything about me and i with him. i don't need to hide from him and i know that, but at this moment, all i can think about is his hands almost on my stomach and how he's feeling all of the weight i was supposed to lose.

"i—" i choke on my words, hands shaking against the tile, "i just looked so bad tonight, matthew. i'm sorry."

"what? no, baby, you looked beautiful!"

"i didn't," i insist, pushing his hands off of me and reaching for the shower door, trying to escape from the steamy shower.

"no, no," matthew grabs onto my hand and doesn't let me leave, tugging me closer to him, "i'm not letting you leave. tell me what you mean by you looked bad tonight."

and with that question, i collapse into a puddle of tears. matthew pulls me into his arms and holds my wet body tight, bringing us slightly under the water stream so we don't get cold. and i just cry out all of my emotions to him, clinging to my emotional rock.

"i'm sorry," he starts to mindlessly apologize, "i'm sorry, baby."

after far too long of standing idle in the shower, matthew leads us out. he shuts off the water and helps me out, wrapping a towel around my body and then one around his waist. "come on," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my shoulder, "let's go into the bedroom and have a chat, okay?"

he holds my waist and brings me out of the bathroom, helping me into a big sweatshirt and sitting me on the bed. he pulls me into his lap and kisses the top of my head, moving my wet hair out of my face.

"i—" i hiccup, trying to frantically wipe my tears off my face, "i'm ruining the night, i'm sorry."

"you're not ruining anything," matthew quickly responds. "i just wanna know what's going on so i can help."

"i looked bad, matthew," i squeeze my eyes shut so i won't have to see his reaction, good or bad. "i liked that dress when i tried it on but i looked so bad and so—"

"you're absolutely stunning, love. i know that me just saying that doesn't fix anything or change how you feel but i wanna help. how can i help?"

i shake my head at him, tucking my face in his neck. "i'm ugly, matthew."

"you're not."

"you could have any of the women on that red carpet that are prettier and skinnier than me and who make you happier than me and who look—"

"no," matthew tucks his fingers under my chin and lifts my gaze, his eyes connecting with my teary ones, "i don't want any of those other women. they are snotty and rude and cocky and extremely unpleasant and i couldn't care less what all those other women look like. i don't want them and all their fakeness and loads of makeup. i want you."

a new wave of tears hits me and i choke out a sob, droplets sliding down my cheek and drenching matthew's hand. he pouts at me, wiping my tears.

"i don't know why you do," i sniffle. "i'm nothing special."

"come here," matthew immediately says, ushering me off his lap and giving me a moment to place my feet firmly on the floor. he leads me to the huge mirror and plants his hands on my hips, standing directly behind me. "i just want you to look," he whispers in my ear, soft voice making goosebumps rise on my skin, "and try to see what i see."

it's hard to look at my reflection and gets even harder when matthew tugs my towel away, leaving me nude in his embrace. he slides his hand down my stomach and drags it to my hip, holding me tightly and with an over abundance of love. he kisses my shoulder and nudges my neck with his nose, wet hair tangled with mine.

"matthew," i breathe, placing my hands atop his and leading his arms around my waist.

"you're," he whispers so softly that i barely hear him over the moonlight flooding the room, "the most beautiful woman in the whole world."

his hands stray from mine and cup my breasts, tweaking the hardened pebbles between his fingers. i let out a sight of relief, dropping my head back onto his shoulder and closing my eyes. his lips brush against my ear. "i'm gonna make you feel good, gonna make you feel beautiful. can i do that for you, angel?" i hum a confirmation and drop my head back on his shoulder, but he quickly shakes his head. "no, no," and then his free hand is on my neck, guiding my head towards the mirror, "i need to you watch, baby. keep your head up."

his hand glides down my stomach, the other hand keeping a loose hold on my neck to keep me in place. he cups my sex, bringing a gasp from my lips as his soft fingertips brush against my clit. i watch matthew smile in the mirror, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

"love these sounds you make," he whispers, tilting my head to the side to have better access to my neck. "you sound so pretty when you moan for me."

his fingers slide through my folds, spreading my wetness. "there we go," he whispers, lifting his fingers so i can see. "look at that, baby. look how wet you are for me. wanna taste?"

"please," my voice comes out as a pitiful whimper, my jaw dropping and my tongue sticking out. matthew slides his fingers across my tongue and i close my lips around them, sucking off my sweet nectar and whining again.

"lemme taste," matthew uses the hand in my neck to turn me to face him, pressing his lips to mind. he quickly deepens the kiss, bringing his other hand back down to my clit and circling his fingers. i moan into his mouth, eyes squeezed shut and my hands wrapping around his bicep.

matthew pulls away from my lips and turns my head back towards the mirror, his hand placed lightly on my neck. "look at yourself. look at how fucking gorgeous you are."

"mm," i hum mindlessly, reaching one arm back to grab at his hair, "baby, please."

"i wanna watch you cum," his voice is low and dripping with lust, lips brushing against my ear. "and i want you to watch yourself when you cum," his fingers speed up with his words, working me closer and closer to release. "i want you to see just how gorgeous you are."

my knees start to buckle under my weight and matthew holds my waist tighter, keeping me from crumbling to the floor. "please, please," i whine pathetically. "please, matthew, please."

"i fucking love when you beg," matthew growls. "so fucking stunning when you beg for me."

"i can't— baby, i need to cum, so bad. please."

"cum. i wanna feel you cum on my fingers. come on, angel. cum for me."

with his encouragement, i completely let go and release all over his fingers, collapsing into his body and relying on him to hold me up. i cry out for him, my head tossed back on his shoulder. i sputter out his name, body twitching as the high fades and the aftershocks settle in.

"that's my good girl," matthew good, kissing my jaw. "you wanna taste yourself? see how sweet you are?"

"mhm," i mindlessly hum, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch my breath. but before i can, matthew's fingers are pressing at my lips, sliding down my tongue. i moan around his fingers, squeezing my eyes closed and sucking off my sweet nectar.

"so sweet," he murmurs, dragging his fingers out and replacing them with his lips. "and now i want you down on your knees, okay?" i slide down to my knees, turning around to face him. matthew tugs off his shirt and then looks down at me, smiling adorably. "no, no, the other way," he grabs my shoulders and twists me around to face the mirror, his hand coming around my neck again. he kneels behind me and wraps his arm around my waist again. "now, i'm gonna fuck you and i want you to watch and see all those pretty faces you make while i'm fucking you."