Ashton: “God, what is wrong with me?!” You shout and kick the scale away from you, the numbers fading away as it hits the cabinet. Tears form in your eyes as you think of all of the things you’ve done to make the numbers go down. You’ve been eating healthier, taking multivitamins, exercising.. But nothing has worked. You can’t help but feel horribly about yourself and the thoughts that manifest in your mind are anything but pleasant. With tears streaming down your face, you stand and look at yourself in the mirror, squishing the skin of your stomach between your thumb and index finger. Disgusting, you think to yourself, and you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear him enter and barely register his arms wrapping around you. “Baby, why do you do this to yourself?” He murmurs before pulling you in to his chest, letting your tears soak his shirt. You grip his shirt in your fist and silently sob as he shushes you and whispers sweet nothings in to your ears until you calm down. You pull away, rubbing your eyes and whispering a raspy apology. “There’s no need to apologize to me, love. You need to apologize to yourself. You’re beautiful in every way possible and it’s not fair that you put yourself through this hell. I know you don’t see it yet, but you will. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world and you deserve to know it.” The sincerity in his voice makes you want to crumble all over again, and you nearly do, but you’re stopped by the feeling of his lips moving against yours in a sweet kiss.
Calum: "I hate my skin." You moan, flopping next to him on the bed. "Hmm?" He murmurs as he runs his fingers through your hair. You repeat your sentence, but it’s muffled by the fabric of the pillow you’ve buried your face in to. "Babe, I can’t hear you when you’re mumbling in to the pillow." He giggles and you sigh, flipping over. "I. Hate. My. Skin." You cover your face with your hands in an attempt to stifle the blush that rises to your cheeks. You’ve never told Calum about your insecurities and figured that this time was as good as any, but you regret it as soon as the words leave your lips. He looks at you with wide eyes for a moment. "W-What? Why?" He splutters, staring at you in shock. A fiery blush burns on your cheeks and you squirm slightly, trying to keep the tears from spilling. "I’ve always hated my skin. It breaks out and it’s too oily and no matter how hard I try or how many products I use, it always stays the same. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having horrible skin and I just wish I could change." You spit out, tears spilling down your cheeks. Calum stares for a few more seconds before pulling you in to his arms and hugging you tightly, pressing kisses all over the top of your head. "Everyone has bad skin when they’re a teenager, babe. You’re not the only one. And yours honestly isn’t nearly as bad as you think.." It’s not long before he realizes that his words aren’t helping and soon backtracks. "I mean, honestly babe, you’re beautiful. You shouldn’t tear yourself apart over a few pimples. Your flaws are what make you beautiful, Y/N." He whispers as he peppers more kisses on your head. "They make you human."
Luke: Makeup is a girl’s best friend, especially yours. You feel normal once you’ve put makeup on and it’s an absolute necessity to be wearing it in order to go out. Though Luke disagrees, he’s never told you. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning without it but knows you would never listen, so he keeps his mouth shut. But when he walks in on you today, tears in your eyes as you sit on the counter with mascara in your hand, he cracks. “Baby, you don’t need to wear all of that stuff, you know that.” He takes the mascara wand from your hand and puts it back in the container before shoving it in to a random drawer. “You’re beautiful without it.” His words make your lower lip quiver and it’s not long before you’re crying. You’ve always felt insecure about your looks and sometimes it gets to you, this being one of those times. Luke notices your distress and wraps you in his arms, making you feel an overwhelming sense of safety. “I hate feeling this way.” You murmur into his chest and he smooths down your hair. “You don’t need to anymore. I know it’s not an easy thing to get over but I’ll help you, I promise. I want to make you feel beautiful every day.” He pulls away from the embrace and grabs your makeup removing towelettes, gently wiping the makeup off. When he’s done, he presses kisses all over your face before finally reaching your lips. “You’re absolutely breathtaking, baby. I want to help you see that.” His sweet words make your lips curl in to a small smile and you can’t help but kiss him again.
Michael: You stare at the swimsuit in your hands and chew on your bottom lip nervously. It’s swimsuit season again, and since you’ve outgrown all of your other swimsuits, it’s also time to go shopping. As soon as you told Michael where you were going, he immediately begged to let him come with you. A few persuasive kisses and a short car ride later, and now you’re standing in the place you hate the most. The dressing room. Trying on swimsuits always makes you self-conscious, not because of the size of your body but because of the size of your breasts. You’ve always been insecure about your boobs and feel that wearing a swimsuit brings them to attention, which is why you hate swimsuit shopping. You hate feeling insecure, especially while shopping. “Babe, are you done yet? I wanna see.” Michael whines from just outside the dressing room door and you quickly change in to the swimsuit. You take one last deep breath before opening the door and walking out, his smiling face making you feel a bit better about yourself. “You look gorgeous, babe.” He whispers as he inspects you from his seat on the bench. You walk towards the mirror and look up and down, focusing on your chest. It’s seconds before you feel your self esteem falling drastically, your hands instinctively going to cradle your chest as you walk back towards the dressing room. “Y/N.” Michael calls and you turn around. “Don’t be insecure. That swimsuit looks incredible on you,” He looks you up and down again. “Especially on your chest.” A fiery red blush ignites your cheeks and you giggle, feeling a million times better than before.
Credit to: blowmichael