Hello, I hope you are doing well!! May I request the li's reacting with a reader who's insecure about having a small chest? Thank you and I hope you have a wonderful day / night! <3
Hello! Thank you so much for the request! I am a big proponent of body positivity, and I think it's important to note that every body is beautiful. I'm really excited to write this one.
Please enjoy!
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Xavier:
“Xavier?” Your voice broke the comfortable silence between you. “Can I ask you something?”
He turned quickly, attention settling fully on you. “Always, starlight.”
You hesitated, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Do you ever wish I looked…different?”
The question had him hesitate, and a look of confusion overtook him. “What made you ask that?”
You shrugged, gaze dropping and hands fluttering awkwardly over your chest. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough. Like there’s something missing.”
Xavier didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stood and crossed the room, dimming the lights until the space softened into shadow. When he returned, his light evol flickered to life, gentle and warm.
Your silhouette appeared on the wall.
He stepped behind you, hands resting lightly at your waist. “Look,” he murmured. “That’s how I see you.”
The outline was unmistakably yours, familiar curves, soft lines. Xavier traced the shadow with his fingers, slowly, as though he was memorizing it.
“There’s nothing unfinished here,” he said quietly. “Nothing lacking.”
You swallowed. “It doesn’t feel like enough sometimes.”
He tightened his hold slightly. “You don’t need to be more,” he said. “You already are my everything.”
Xavier pressed a kiss to your temple, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t love an idea of you,” he added softly. “I love this. Exactly as you exist.”
You leaned back into him, letting the glow surround you, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.
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Zayne:
Zayne noticed your quiet immediately.
You sat beside him on the couch, close enough for you to feel his warmth, but far enough to feel distant, eyes unfocused. After a while, you finally spoke. “Do you ever think bodies are designed unfairly?”
He paused, tea halfway to his lips. “That depends.”
You shrugged. “I just feel wrong sometimes. Like I don’t really measure up.”
He set his cup down carefully, considering your words deeply and measuring his response. “Come here,” he said, gently.
You hesitated but shifted closer, and he adjusted instinctively, one arm settling around you.
“There’s nothing wrong with your body,” he said calmly. “Medically, functionally, or otherwise.”
You huffed. “Very comforting, doctor.”
His mouth twitched. “Smaller chests actually make exams easier. Changes are easier to detect. There’s less strain overall.”
You glanced up at him. “I think if I ever found a lump I'd have to go up a bra size.”
He blinked. “…That’s not how that works.”
You smiled faintly, but the insecurity lingered. Zayne tightened his hold around you.
“I don’t see you the way you see yourself,” he said quietly. “I see someone healthy. Balanced. Beautiful.”
You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “You don’t think I’m lacking?”
“No,” he said immediately. “I think you’re exactly as you should be.”
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Rafayel
You lingered beside the sculpture longer than usual.
“It’s beautiful,” you said softly. “The curves. The way everything fits together.”
Rafayel glanced over, curious. “What do you like about it?”
You considered. “It doesn’t exaggerate anything. It feels…real.”
He smiled, pleased, and set his tools down. “Good.”
You frowned. “Good?”
“That means I did it right.”
You laughed. “Did what right?"
"Captured your beauty."
You shook your head in disbelief and he got up quickly.
“Stand still,” he said, already grabbing a measuring tape.
You watched skeptically as he measured, your shoulders, your waist, the sculpture beside you. Again. And again. The numbers matched.
Your breath caught. “You’re serious.”
“Of course I am,” he said lightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You stared at the sculpture, realization sinking in. “You really see me like this?”
Rafayel stepped closer, voice softening. “I see you as art,” he said. “Every line. Every proportion.”
He bumped your shoulder gently. “You don’t need to be different to be worth admiring.”
You smiled, feeling comfortable in your own skin for the first time in a long time. “You’re too much, you know?”
“And you,” he replied, “are perfect.”
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Sylus:
You lingered in the doorway longer than necessary, the lingerie bag heavy in your hands.
“Sylus,” you said quietly. “If this is another thing that doesn’t fit...”
“Try it,” he interrupted calmly. “Then decide.”
You disappeared into the bedroom, heart racing as you changed. You expected the usual: straps that fell down, fabric that assumed more than you had. But when you looked in the mirror, you froze.
It fit. Perfectly.
No awkward pulling. No empty space. Just fabric that followed your body like it had been made for you alone. For a moment, you simply stared, unsure what to do with the unfamiliar feeling settling in your chest.
When you stepped back out, Sylus looked up, he couldn't help but stare.
“I’ve never had anything fit like this,” you admitted softly. “Usually lingerie, everything really, just reminds me of what I don’t have.”
He stood, crossing the room slowly, gaze steady and intense. “Clothing sizes are arbitrary,” he said flatly. “Designed without care. Built for averages, not people.”
You laughed faintly. “That’s one way to put it.”
He stopped in front of you, lifting your chin gently. “Your body isn’t wrong,” he said. “The standard is.”
You looked into his crimson eyes. “You really believe that?”
“I don’t deal in illusions,” he replied. “You are precise. Balanced. Exactly as you are meant to be.”
His hand settled at your waist, possessive in a way that felt protective rather than demanding. “Nothing about you is too little or improperly sized,” he added quietly.
You leaned into him, leaning into the gentle kisses he placed on your neck.
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Caleb:
You didn’t mean to say it out loud. It slipped out between breaths, barely more than a thought.
“I wish I looked different.”
Caleb stopped immediately, turning toward you. “Pips,” he said gently. “What’s that about?”
You shrugged, suddenly very interested in the floor. “I just feel inadequate sometimes. Like I don’t really measure up.”
You thought he was going to tease you, making a joke about you being a pipsqueak, but he stepped closer instead, pulling you into his arms like it was instinct.
“You’ve always fit right here,” he said quietly.
You rested against his chest, familiar and steady, the sound of his heartbeat comforting you. Growing up, this had always been where you ended up, after scraped knees, after bad days, after everything.
“I don’t think about you in parts,” he continued, voice low. “Never have. You’re just…you.”
You let out a small breath. “You’re really bad at letting me spiral.”
He smiled into your hair. “Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta stop you.”
You pulled back just enough to look at him. “You don’t wish I was different?”
Caleb shook his head without hesitation. “No. I just wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
He tightened his hold, resting his chin on your head. You stayed like that longer for what felt like forever, wrapped up in his warmth and comfort.
i wish to do exercise but goddamn do i have too much bust.
:T looking at expensive stupid ass sports bras and just. ughhhh i just want to try and be comfy. chase after my cat without the boob hurt.
my boohoo order took a whole week to get here with an outfit for my ~big day~ on monday and i legit cannot even get the playsuit over my thighs. happy friday!
