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zoyaofthegardvn · 11 months

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hi, this is my first ever request. i was wondering if you could do a mor x reader about the reader being insecure about her weight/looks. it’s been a battle for me most, if not all my life. i would greatly appreciate it. thank you love 🥹🫶🏻

You're Perfect, My Love

A/N: Awh anon I am so happy to write this request <3 I have always struggled with my body image, too. I'm a bigger girl and fanfic has always been a solace for me, so I am so willing to write some stuff where the reader is explicitly a bigger girl. Thank you so much for coming to me with this request and I hope I've done it justice!!

CW: Body image issues, insecurities and self deprecation, allusions to smut towards the end.

---

You sighed as you ran your hands over your dress in the mirror. The silky piece was rather form-fitting, a blush pink that Mor had helped you pick out just a couple of weeks ago. Rhys and Feyre were hosting a dinner party tonight, and you and Mor were attending, of course. You'd been looking forward to it for a while now, and you knew Mor had been, too. The mating bond was relatively new for the two of you, having snapped just a little over a year ago. You two had spent so much time wrapped up in one another, it wasn't often that you left home for the evening and spent time with the rest of your family.

But now, you were feeling insecure in the dress Mor had been so excited to see you in, and you felt bad. You got like this quite often, ashamed of your body and questioning if you were good enough for your mate. You weren't thin like Mor and the rest of the inner circle. Your stomach wasn't flat, your thighs and ass were thick and dimpled, your breasts large, and gravity had not been kind to them. Your hips were streaked with pink stripes, and your cheeks full and chubby. Mor wasn't unaware of your struggle, and she did everything she could to make you feel beautiful and perfect and adored. She often urged you to come to her when your mind wasn't being kind to you, but you never did, too afraid to annoy her with your insecurities. But, she never failed to notice when you were having a bad day.

As if summoned, Mor strolls into the bathroom, a smirk tugging at her lips as she leans against the door frame and scans your body head to toe. Like usual, you flush under her gaze.

"You look beautiful, Y/N," Mor gushes, pushing off from the wall, coming to stand right behind you.

"Thank you, my love," you whisper, putting a small smile on your face in an attempt to conceal your true feelings at the moment.

Mor wraps her arms around you, interlocking your fingers and settling your hands on your midsection. She presses between your shoulder and jaw, peppering kisses along your neck. You shiver at the contact and Mor giggles, her breath on your skin causing goosebumps to litter your arms.

"I knew you'd look stunning in this dress," she says, then presses her hips into your backside. She lifts her face to make eye contact with you in the mirror, "But I can't wait to take it off of you tonight."

You playfully gasp at her words, a genuine smile making its way onto your face. She laughs at your reaction, pulling back and spinning you around to face her. "Mor!" you giggle, swatting at her shoulder. She pushes you back until you make contact with the counter, then she leans in and captures your lips in a kiss.

You kiss her back, no hesitation. Your mate, your ultimate source of comfort. She hums into the kiss, and you smile against her lips before pulling back. "I don't think Rhys and Feyre would appreciate us being late, again," you mumble into her mouth.

She sighs, pulling away from you. "I suppose you're right, besides, maybe my treat will taste better if I have to wait," she leans in, nipping at your earlobe as you chuckle.

When she finally releases you, she makes her way to the door. "Meet me downstairs in a few minutes?"

You nod, and she smiles at you before she leaves the room. The second she's gone, your insecurities feel like they're crushing you again. Too fat, too ugly, too out of shape, too big. In all honesty, you have no desire to wear this dress, or even to attend dinner. But if you were to voice your feelings, Mor would instantly know it has something to do with your body image, and you had no desire to start that conversation.

---

The party had been off to a great start, and you and Mor weren't even the last ones to arrive. Drinks were shared, games were played, and Feyre and Elain had just left to finish up preparing dinner to be served in the dining room.

Knowing that it was nearly time to eat made you nervous, as you'd been nursing a stomach ache all evening. The anxiety and self loathing made it hard to work up an appetite.

Mor and Cassian faced off in a game of cards, you and Nesta sat next to your mates, privy to what hands they held. By the look on Nesta's face, and the knowledge of Mor's hand, you knew your mate was bound to win. Just before she could make her next move, Feyre returned to announce that dinner was ready, and Cassian burst into cheers, claiming he wasn't the loser since they couldn't finish the game. Mor argued with him briefly, and you excused yourself to the bathroom before you were to meet everyone else at the table.

Again, you find yourself staring in the mirror, eyes raking over your curves, your plush stomach, your drooping breasts and chubby cheeks. You splash a bit of cold water on your face after washing your hands, in an attempt to calm yourself down, your face flushed in embarrassment. The laughter of your friends and family trickles down the hallway, and eventually, you move to meet them.

Mor left an open seat to her right for you to take, placing you on the end. The table holds a beautiful meal, and Rhys and Lucien are beaming at their mates, thanking them for the work they put into the roast. You smile at Feyre as she passes you a plate, and Mor quickly takes it from your hands, pecking your cheek as she begins to prepare your plate for you.

You watch as she fills your portion with meat, salad, roasted vegetables and potatoes. The sight makes your stomach roil, but Mor is none the wiser, placing your food in front of you with a smile on her face, knowing she picked out all of your favorites. You, of course, return the smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Mor's brows furrow at your look of unease.

"Thank you, baby," you say, in an attempt to not worry her. She nods, then shifts her attention back to the center of the table, listening in as Cassian tells a story about his and Azriel's most recent mission.

Throughout the entire dinner, you hardly touch your food. You'd barely eaten all day, busy with work until it had been time to get ready for the evening. You should be starving, but all you can think about is how you need to eat less, to weigh less, to look better for Mor.

When Mor is nearly done with her dinner, she takes note of how you'd been pushing food around your plate rather than eating it, and she squeezes your thigh under the table, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"Do you feel alright, my love?"

You muster a smile, placing a hand on top of her's, still placed on your thigh. You try not to think about how small her hand looks compared to your leg.

"I feel fine, love, I'm sorry, just not that hungry, I guess."

She goes to protest, her face scrunched in confusion, before Feyre saves you.

"How about I put that in a container for you, Y/N? I know it's your favorite."

You flush at the attention, disliking how the conversation has died down as everyone notices your unfinished plate. You nod politely and clear your throat. "T-Thank you, Feyre, that would be lovely."

You friend smiles and nods, running off to the kitchen with your plate in hand as conversation at the table resumes. It's not long before everyone has eaten, and Rhys announces that it's time for more drinks.

As everyone makes their way to the sitting room, Mor tugs at your arm and pulls you away from the group. She pushes you gently against the wall in the dining room, one hand coming to rest against your waist, the other grasping one of your hands.

"Are you sure you feel alright? We can leave if you don't," she asks, voice dripping with concern. Her eyebrows are raised in worry, and she dips her head to keep eye contact with you. The love and care she's showing you makes your heart melt, and you instantly feel guilty for worrying her so badly during what was supposed to be a fun evening with the friends and family you hadn't seen in so long.

"I feel fine, darling, I promise," you press a kiss to her pouted lips, arms coming to wrap around her waist in a light hug. She returns the embrace, mumbling "You're sure?" into your hair.

You nod, pulling away from the hug to kiss her cheek. "I swear. Let's join the rest of them, yeah?"

She nods, but she still doesn't seem entirely convinced.

Joining the rest of your friends, who've started to pour drinks and pass them around the room, you shoo Mor to sit down on the couch so that you can grab the two of you glasses. For Mor, you pour a red wine, and for yourself, you take a cocktail that Gwyn created.

Mor accepts her glass with a smile and a kiss to the back of your hand. She attempts to pull you down into her lap, but you resist, instead choosing to sit beside her on the couch.

Instantly, Mor realizes what's been wrong. You almost always sit in her lap, and she'd suspected that you weren't feeling quite like yourself when you refused to eat your dinner, but now, she's certain.

She says nothing, though, never willing to risk embarrassing you in front of everyone, or making you feel pressured to confess your feelings.

She just leans into your arm, rubbing your thigh, nursing her wine, and making sure to pepper kisses along your face and shoulder every so often.

Eventually, when the conversation has died down, and everyone is yawning, or, in Nesta and Gwyn's case, asleep on the sofas, everyone decides to head home for the night. Emerie and her girlfriend are the first to leave, Cassian and Azriel scoop their mates up, Elain and Lucien retire to the room they're staying in as they're just in the Night Court for a few weeks, and you and Mor file out the front door with everyone else.

Mor takes your hand in her own, and she winnows the both of you home without a word.

When the two of you enter your foyer and pull your heels off, you catch Mor watching you intently. Her eyes follow your every movement, tracing over your body. The intensity of her gaze makes you uneasy.

"Mor..?" you ask softly, confusion lacing your tone.

"Do you want to tell me what's really going on?" she asks, not rude, or demanding, or insensitive. And truthfully, you're not surprised. She's always known you better than anyone.

You sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. And because you just can't help it, tears form in your eyes, a lump grows in your throat. You're embarrassed, frustrated, and sensitive.

"I don't want to talk about it," is all you can manage, hardly a whisper.

"Oh, baby," Mor coos, scooping you into her arms and winnowing you a mere flight of steps away, into your bedroom. Instantly, the tears come full force.

"I-I'm sorry, this is so-" you cut yourself off with a hiccup, "-so embarrassing."

Mor shushes you, running a hand along your back. "No love, s'not embarrassing, it's just how you feel."

And that makes you cry harder. "I tried to act like nothing was bothering me, I didn't want to ruin your night, I'm s-sorry, Mor," you blubber into her shoulder.

"Shh, shhh, enough of that, Y/N, you didn't ruin anything." She pulls you away from her embrace to look you in the eye. "Talk to me about it, love, I wanna help you."

You shrug, hands coming up to swipe at your eyes, at the makeup running down your cheeks.

She shakes her head at the non-answer. "You seemed upset before we left tonight, you hardly touched your food, and you wouldn't sit in my lap. I think I know what's wrong, but I want you to tell me."

You huff out a breath of air, feeling caught. Several seconds pass before you feel like you can speak again, through the tears. "I just.. I j-just feel so fat, Mor. You a-and Elain, and Nesta, and Feyre... you're all so, so pretty. So skinny, I-I can never be that small," you whine, and you feel mortified at how pathetic you sound.

"Oh, Y/N," Mor sighs, moving to sit the both of you on the edge of the bed. "My beautiful, beautiful, perfect girl, how could you ever think you aren't absolutely stunning?"

You choke on a bitter laugh, your eyes rolling at her question, assuming it was hypothetical.

She grips your hand, tight. "I'm serious, Y/N. You're perfect. I have never once wished you were any different than you are. You're the female I'm in love with," she grasps your chin, forcing you to look her in the eye, "this is the body that I make love to every night, the face that greets me every morning. You're the only female I could ever want, ever desire, ever love."

Your lower lip wobbles at her admission, and the tears continue to stream, though not as heavily.

"But, I'm so-"

Mor cuts you off with a stern look. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with the word fat. It's not a dirty word. Who cares that you're bigger?"

You frown, as if to say 'obviously, I do,' but again, Mor shoots you down with an intense glare.

"I mean it, Y/N. Who gets to decide what size is beautiful, what body type is attractive? I've never once wished you were skinnier. I love every inch of you." Her voice leaves no room for argument. Her hands begin to wander, cupping your face, grazing over your arms, breasts, your waist and your thick hips, coming to a stop when they grip the tops of your thighs. Her eyes look down to where she has you in her grasp. She leans in, hovering just above your lips. "You're perfect, my love, the most beautiful female I've ever seen, I always get so wet just by looking at you."

You instantly burst into laughter at her lewd words, and she smirks, proud that she was finally able to make you smile. She leans in, finally kissing you like she had wanted to all evening. You groan into the kiss, hands flying up to tangle in her hair. It's not long before you have to pull away to catch your breath, the kiss electrifying and hot.

She leans her forehead against yours and bites her red-stained lips, clearly in the mood for more. But, your worries aren't completely at ease.

"Mor?" you whisper, to which she hums in reply.

"Are you.. sure? You can tell me, you know, if you've ever thought I could lose some weight."

She shakes her head, adamant. "I love you, Y/N, exactly how you are." Her hands squeeze at your legs again, "I love your thighs, especially when they're wrapped around my head," she pulls back with a wink, making you giggle. "I love your stomach, so soft and pretty," she places a kiss to your forehead, "I love your cheeks, so cute when you smile," she places kisses to both of them, humming as you blush at her praise.

Her hands wander up your front, until they're cupping your breasts, "and I really love these," she practically purrs, "so sexy, baby, sometimes I think I'm gonna combust."

You burst into laughter, "you're a perv, Mor!"

She responds with her own laughter, hands pushing you flat on the bed by your shoulders. She straddles your waist, her hair falling around the two of you, making it difficult to look anywhere but at her.

"I love you, Y/N, I really, really do. You're so, so beautiful."

Your heart feels like it's going to burst out of your chest, and not for the first time, you wonder how you got lucky enough to be mated to her.

"I love you too, Mor. Forever."

---

A/N: Ahhh! I am officially back! It felt so good to finally write something and get it out there for you guys. Thank you all so, so much for being so patient and encouraging while I was on quite a long break. I really appreciate it. I'm honestly not very proud of this, I think it's super rough, and I'll probably edit it eventually, but I'm just glad to be writing again. Thank you guys again, and I hope you enjoy!

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