stranger things imagines.

body issues

POSTED ON: steve-hairingtons

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You laid in your bed reading your favorite book, your girlfriend Robin right next to you doing her homework. She'd been working on it for about an hour and a half, sighing and groaning every five seconds.

"This is so boring," she complained, throwing her head back.

"What are you doing?"

"Calculus."

"Ugh. Boring and hard." You reached over and ran your hand up and down her back. "I told you you should have graduated early like I did."

"I don't have the grades for that."

"Really? You have straight A's, a four-point-eight GPA, and you do clubs and shit. You could graduate in December."

She looked back at you. "You're right."

"I'm always right," you smirked.

"Right about that, too."

You sat up and leaned over to kiss her. She returned the kiss with a smile before placing her hand on your inner thigh. You shuddered and broke the kiss, pulling your thigh away and standing up.

You'd never been comfortable with your body. You were a bit on the chubbier side, something your mom reminded you of every day. But Robin didn't care. She thought you were beautiful, inside and out.

She frowned when you got to your feet, placing her pen in her textbook and adjusting her posture.

"What's wrong?" she asked. When you looked at her, she had a concerned look on her face.

"Nothing," you reassured her.

"You're my girlfriend. You can talk to me."

"I know. I just don't have anything to talk about." You walked to the door and down the hall to your kitchen. Your house was a small, one-story house. It was only you and your mom living there at the moment.

Your mom had never been super excited about your sexuality. You told her you were bisexual when you were fourteen, and she assumed it was a phase. But four years had gone by with no change, and three went by before you and Robin started dating.

She liked Robin a lot, she just didn't like you two being together. When you brought her home and introduced her as your girlfriend, she didn't talk to you all night. Eventually, though, she came around.

Speaking of your mom, she was in the recliner watching Jeopardy when you walked past her, Robin a few feet behind you. You leaned back against the kitchen counter and sighed, looking at her standing in front of you.

"I told you I didn't have anything to talk about," you said quietly, not wanting your mom to listen in.

"Don't lie, Y/N. I know when something's bothering you." She stepped closer, placing her hands on the undersides of your upper arms. "Please tell me. I want to know what you're going through." You didn't answer, and she sighed. "Is it your body?" You looked up at her. "I know you don't like your body and that you're insecure about it. Is that what's bothering you?"

You nodded. "I just... I look at your body and it's perfect and then I look at myself and it makes me sad that I don't look like you."

She raised her eyebrows. "Babe... Are you serious?" You nodded. "Come here." She gripped your hand and dragged you back to your room, closing the door as you sat down on your bed.

She stood in front of you, crossing her arms.

"You're beautiful," she said softly. You looked down at your lap. She grabbed your desk chair and pulled it in front of you, sitting and gripping your hands. "Why on Earth don't you think you're beautiful?"

"My mom, my mirror, my clothes. Everything. It reminds me that I don't look the way I want to look. It just... It makes me feel like I'm not good enough for you."

A shocked look came across her face. She reached up and cupped your face, tilting it up to look at her.

"Don't you ever think you're not good enough for me."

You just looked at her. "I can't help it."

"Is this why you don't let me see you naked? Even when we have sex?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

She sighed. "Listen... I know you're having a tough time mental health-wise right now." You nodded. "But I don't care about that, and I don't care about how you look. I think you're stunning. I did the first time I saw you. And it hurts to hear you say you don't think you're good enough for me."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault. Your mom drills it into your head every damn day that you're 'fat' or whatever, but you're not. You should be confident. The weight your mom wants you at it unrealistic and unhealthy. I love how you look."

"Yeah, well, you're the only one, then."

"Who cares what everyone else thinks?"

"I do."

"Why? I, your girlfriend, am telling you right now that your body is perfect. Don't listen to the people who tell you differently."

"But-"

"No. No buts. Not about this. I love you, and I love your body, and I love everything about you. You're perfect." She leaned in and gave you a deep kiss. "You want some dinner?"

You nodded. "Dinner sounds great."

"Pizza?"

You smirked. "Sure."

"Do you mind if I invite Steve over to eat?"

"Not at all."

"Great." She kissed you one more time. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"You better start loving yourself, too."

"Easier said than done," you said with a soft smile. She raised her eyebrows. "I'll try."

"Good. Is pepperoni okay?"

"Yeah, perfect."

"Alright. I'll be right back."