#insecurity prompts
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Jealousy prompts and dialogue please!
Sure thing :)
Jealousy
"Why are you getting so jealous of them?" "Because they are clearly all over you, that's why."
"I'll bite their head off if they look at you again like this."
"They're almost undressing you with their eyes!"
"You are going out with them again, aren't you."
"You prefer to spend time with C, I can see it."
"Does my promise mean so little to you?" "Of course not. It's not you who I'm wary of."
"I hope they are making you happy."
"You look like you want to explode their head." "I'm trying."
"Who are they?" "A friend." "A friend wouldn't do this kind of shit."
"You are jealous." "Am not!" "You are. And a terrible liar on top of that."
"And what am I supposed to think when I see you two like this?!"
Prompts
A getting increasingly angry about the way C is always touching B -- A's partner.
B has abandonment issues because of their upbringing. They trust A with their whole heart, but the more time A spends with C, B is getting increasingly scared they'll be left alone again.
A is upset with B. To get back at them, they agree with C to play a game to make B jealous. However, the whole play takes a turn for worse when instead of jealousy, B reacts with defeat.
B just met their old friend/first love C again after long years. While A, who is currently dating B, is trying to be as understanding and supportive of the rekindled friendship, they can't not notice the way C is slowly sneaking in between them and B.
B suffers from occasional attacks of insecurity because of their family history and has a hard time dealing with seeing how happy A looks with one of their coworkers.
A tends to speak a lot about one of their friends lately, bringing them up on every possible occasion. B, their partner, is getting progressively unwell every time they just about hear C's name.
I hope those helped :)
#otp#otp writing#imagine your otp#imagine your ship#otp ideas#jealousy prompts#angst prompts#fluff prompts#hurt/comfort prompts#writing prompts#writing ideas#writing inspiration#fanfic prompts#fanfic inspiration#dialogue prompts#story prompts#insecurity prompts#otp prompts#droptheprompt
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character insecurities
insecurities are honestly a construct and the dumbest thing society has conditioned us to believe matter because i could literally make this a prompt of random things and it would probably be accurate but anyway! feel free to use <3
your character is insecure about:
how loud they speak
their accent
how passionate they get about certain things
their recent haircut
their height
their clothing style
their place in their friend group
their place in society… especially if they’re a minority
the way they think people perceive them
their hobbies
their lack of hobbies
their lack of friends
the fact that they have a lot of friends
their personality
their openness
how much they talk and who they talk to about it
their past
their future
their present… like they are insecure about where they’re at and wish they were in a better state
the place they live
their lack of confidence
their writing style… haha
their talents .. or lack thereof
their past lovers i.e. feeling like someone they were with didn’t value them
they think everyone is always making fun of them
hope this helps !!
#change of pace but i like this#characterization hello#writeblr#writing#writing tips#writing advice#writing insecurities#insecure characters#insecure prompts#imagine your otp#writing prompts#prompts#character building#character traits
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Fourteen year old Tim teaches Young Justice about rationing food in an emergency. Except...Bruce hasn't taught him that yet.
Red Tornado praises his teaching abilities, stating that his lesson to the other kids had been both informative and practical. In fact, he'd assigned "homework" for the other Young Justice members to find and stock enough food for an emergency for a week.
Small problem.
Tim isn't slotted for that particular lesson until next week.
Bruce takes a step back.
Tim is always eager to learn, perhaps he'd just taught himself nutrition ahead of schedule and was sharing that lesson with his friends.
...Except his Robin's lesson hadn't involved emergency rations in the wild, just in an urban environment.
Bruce finds out rather early that Tim's parents are neglectful, and is very conflicted on how to deal with it.
He isn't in a good place mentally to adopt again.
But Tim cannot stay in that empty house.
#batman au#robin au#tim drake#robin#batman#bruce wayne#story prompt#food insecurity#emotional neglect#child neglect#fanon tim drake's parents#the neglectful one#so 14 is before fifteen which is when jason kicked tim's ass#“kicked his ass” more like attempted war crimes#“attempted”#like a grownass man wearing those tights and slitting a kids throat isn't a whole new war crime we didn't know we needed laws against
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Wait I just thought of it.
Imagine au where after merlin confesses to his magic, at the end he was somehow able to save Arthur. They make it back to Camelot but there is some awkwardness between the two, like they've forgotten how to act around eo.
After years of hiding, Merlin is hesitant to show Arthur his magic, to make himself vulnerable to his King in that way. And Arthur takes longer to believe merlin's stories, there are more questions and double takes than there used to be.
Merlin tries to return the sigil one day, thinking that he doesn't deserve to have it since he doesn't have Arthur's full and unwavering trust any more (his words not the king's).
Arthur presses it back into his palms, "It's a gift, Merlin. You keep those."
obviously inspired by:
#merthur#merthur au#merthur prompt#Merlin#Arthur Pendragon#Ficlet#Liya writes#Bbc merlin#THE OG MIXTAPE SCENE#also love the idea of post reveal merthur being..... strained#like they aren't pissed at eo or want the other dead#both of them still love the other and understand eo#they just... awkward#insecure of where they stand in the other's life#stilted#KSUGFKJF#idk I just love that idea of them#having to find and rebuild parts of the relationship again
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What happened with the death threats? is Steve okay? in your tags you said you were gonna put someone confronting Steve, even if that didn't happen, is he ever paranoid? Ive been thinking about this all day hsbeudnbeid i have so many questions lmao
Steve kinda just stops.
He doesn’t even realize it until the morning after Eddie confronted him about the letters, but he just stopped doing things after he got the first letter a couple of months ago. He stopped going grocery shopping. He stopped getting coffee. He stopped going on his nightly runs. He’s missed the last three of his and Max’s bi-weekly trivia night with their friends from physical therapy.
He can’t even remember the last time he hung out with Robin that wasn’t at his house.
It’s a little ironic that the only places he ever is these days are at work or home, the two places he’s received letters at. He just stopped doing anything and he didn’t even notice.
He only realizes it because Eddie asks if he wants to get breakfast before they talk, and Steve can’t bring himself to step outside. He feels like he’s seventeen again, all alone in a big empty house and trying to convince himself that there isn’t a dead girl in his pool.
“I can make breakfast.”
“We don’t have anything to make for breakfast,” Eddie says.
Steve ran his fingers through his hair, yanking them through the tangles at the ends because he doesn’t even understand where the anxiety in his chest is coming from. He’s been outside. He goes outside to go to work five days a week, so – so he shrugs his shoulders, “Uh…why don’t you go and I’ll – I’ll do, uh, something around here.”
Eddie squints at him and taps a beat against his collarbone before asking bluntly, “Do you not want to be around me?”
“What?”
“Why are you acting like this? I know you’re mad that I found your letters but you’re the one that lied to me, Steve. I think – I think it’s pretty rich that you’re trying to make me feel like shit because I care about you.”
“I’m not doing that,” Steve said, eyes shifting to Eddie and then away. Eddie only makes eye contact if he’s angry and – yeah, Steve probably gave him plenty to be angry about. “I want to be with you.”
“Then act like it. Let’s go.”
“I can’t.”
“…Why not?”
“I don’t know,” Steve whispered, and it makes him feel worse that Eddie just deflates. The frustration subsides and he looks away, and Steve doesn’t want that. He wants Eddie to be mad at him. He wants Eddie to blame this all on Steve and tell him what it is that people hate so much about him so he can change. He wants – “My head is so fucked right now, and I don’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Eddie perks up at that, “Are you going to-“
“No. I – I feel… I can’t leave,” Steve tries to explain. “I feel like I can’t leave. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes, it does. It makes complete sense, Steve. Someone is threatening you and you’ve been dealing with it alone for months. It’s okay to be scared.”
“I don’t want to be scared.”
Eddie nods and then he sits down on the floor in their foyer. He makes grabby hands at Steve until Steve sits down with him, and then he holds his hand. Eddie asks, “What do you want, Stevie?”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Eddie gives him a kind smile – the smile that makes Steve fall in love over and over again – and he squeeze’s Steve hand before whispering like their sharing the most precious secret, “I’m not going anywhere.”
#not sure if this even remotely answers the prompt#I feel like this whole situation would bring up all of Steve’s old insecurities#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington#eddie munson
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prompt 10 for luci!!!
Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” with Lucifer
Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking
___
Okay, so, maybe you two had formed the bad habit of egging each other on. Not that he'd ever admit to letting anyone, let alone some little human, get under his skin and sway his judgment. No. He was Lucifer, first-born of the seven lords of hell and Avatar of Pride. As the prince's right hand, he had an image to uphold, always.
But between you and the prince's foolish encouragement, he was drunk.
The evening had gotten away from the lot of you, having fun and drinking on Lord Diavolo's dime in celebration of another RAD project successfully brought to completion. As the night drew on and the crowd thinned, some of the other demon brothers with weaker constitutions trickled out of the upscale bar, heading for home. You waved off Beel (saddled with an unconscious Belphie) when he offered to walk you back to the House of Lamentation. You could handle yourself, you reassured him.
Besides, it was rare to see Lucifer in such fine form: disheveled, face flushed, laughing raucously. He slouched over the bar, covering his face with one hand, trying to compose himself, and it was so- for lack of a better word- human that it made your heart swell.
You excused yourself for a quick trip to the restroom, wanting to collect yourself before seeing what else the night had in store. Fairly drunk yourself, you started to psych yourself up. Yes, obviously between Diavolo and Barbatos, Lucifer would get home safely no matter what state he was in. But you wanted to be the one to take him home. The thought of speaking alone with a more loose-lipped, candid version of him excited you a little too much.
You caught your reflection in the mirror and paused, dismayed. Maybe it was the harsh bathroom lighting, but you looked tired, older than your years. A cold weight settled in your stomach. You adjusted your hair and tried to shake off your sudden burst of insecurity. You were thinking too hard.
You had been gone for just a moment, but returned to find your seat at the bar taken by a beautiful demon. Even after all this time, the natural beauty of most demons still sometimes stunned you. The demon leaned in close, speaking to a very animated Lucifer and laughing coquettishly as he described something you couldn’t quite hear. You felt the air punched out of your lungs and numbly made your way over to gather your things.
"Hey, it's getting late, I'm going to head back," You said, throat dry but still smiling. Only Barbatos seemed to hear you. You bid him farewell and made your escape.
You felt stupid. How arrogant were you, anyway? You may be friends, you may live under the same roof, but you were still just you.
You heard your name called and turned, squinting in the darkness. It didn't take long for Lucifer to catch up with you.
"Why didn't you say you were leaving? You shouldn't be walking alone this late," He scolded you.
"I did," You replied with a thin-lipped smile, "You were busy."
He racked his brain for a moment and then chuckled, "Ah, that. I swear, I can never find a moment's peace."
“You seemed like you were having a good time,” You mused, continuing your walk home, “You should have stayed.”
You obliged, letting him turn you to face him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but tears were beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. He regarded you with an expression you couldn’t quite place- pity? That was your uncharitable interpretation, anyway.
“What do you mean by that?” He asked, sounding somewhat offended, “Do you have better things to do than stand to be in my company?”
You clicked your tongue. Of course he would go there.
“No, Lucifer,” You sighed, feeling too raw to argue, “That’s not… I didn’t want to intrude if you were, you know, feeling a connection or something.”
Awkward and ineloquent. Nice. You could feel him staring into the side of your head but refused to look up. Your face burned. This wasn’t going how you had hoped. You sped up a bit, wanting to be home and done with it, already. You could sleep it off and pretend this didn’t happen, that he didn’t just see how transparently you were wounded.
Lucifer blatantly bit back a laugh and you bristled at his condescension. Whatever you thought was between the two of you had never been spoken aloud. It now laid vulnerable and dangling in front of your face, and he was laughing at you. Perhaps wishful thinking had caused you to misinterpret things. That cold weight in your stomach grew heavier.
“Is that- are you jealous?” He asked, incredulous. You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze straight ahead. His eyes widened.
“You are,” He said, reaching for your hand but catching the sleeve of your coat, “Stop, stop, stop.”
“You forget yourself,” He said, a bit more sober than before, “And our pact. You are mine, does that mean nothing to you?”
Fuck, now you were crying. This pressure was too much, the dam was about to burst.
“It means everything to me,” You choked out.
He took both of your freezing hands in his, “I have been around for a very long time,” He said, as if soothing a child, “You are the only human I have ever made a pact with. The only one I have ever trusted with that sort of power-”
You huffed, “I’m not talking about pacts.”
“I know that,” Lucifer said, silently pleading you would not have him elaborate. Not here, in some cold, dingy street. Not now, too drunk to give you the confession you deserved, “But what part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”
#obey me fic#obey me lucifer#lucifer x reader#writing prompts#denpa's transmissions#drabble: writes 900+ words#dis one hit good because im feeling kinda insecure today ty anon :3 hope you like it
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Cloud ‘I don’t deserve love and affection’ Strife meets Zack ‘just give me the fucking chance’ Fair
#fic prompt#fic#prompt#final fantasy vii#final fantasy vii remake#final fantasy vii rebirth#cloud strife#Zack fair#cloud x Zack#zakkura#insecure cloud#puppy Zack#Zack will beat his love into clouds dumb blond spikes if he had to
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Criminal minds team reaction to a super tall muscular agent with tattoos/piercings?
Um, yes? But like, gotta project a little bit so he's insecure lmao
You were a new agent, working for the BAU, finally getting the transfer from organised crime you had practically been begging for for the last two years. You had met Agent Hotchner (or Hotch as you had been told to call him) and Agent Rossi (or Rossi), both respectable men who seemed pleased to have you on the team. But today was your first official day working for them.
You weren't allowed to have the majority of your piercings in whilst at work, only the three in your ears and your septum, provided you took that one out should you need to talk to members of the public. Your tattoos started at the base of your neck and stopped just above your wrists, enough that a long sleeved shirt with a collar hid them.
You stepped out of the elevator, taking a small moment to try and gather yourself before you walked into the ballpen.
"Well who is this hunk of handsome?!" Penelope asked, jaw dropping as you walked into the room. Your shoulders curled inwards with embarrassment as you rubbed your neck, cheeks dotting with red.
"Er, I'm (Y/N)," You answered, "I'm looking for Hotch or Rossi?"
"(Y/N)," Rossi grinned as he walked up to you, patting your arm when he reached you. "Glad to see you made it okay,"
"Thank you sir," You nodded.
"What have I told you?" Rossi sighed.
"Sorry, Rossi." You correct yourself, Rossi gave a small nod as Hotch approached the group.
"(Y/N), nice to see you again."
"You too, s-" You cut yourself off, "Hotch."
Hotch turned to Garcia, "Garcia, play nice, he's joining the team."
"Oh really?" Garcia asked, seeing the unimpressed look on Hotch's face she sighed. "I'm Penelope Garcia, Knower of All."
"I'm (Y/N) (L/N), Agent of America?" You offer, unsure.
"I like you," Penelope grinned before she turned to Hotch, "We've got a case."
"Gather the team," Hotch said. Penelope nodded, before rushing off. When she left, he turned back to you, "You get used to her, she means well," He said fondly.
You nodded slightly, unsure of what exactly to say. "Come on, kid, you need to meet the rest of the team." Rossi said, patting your arm once more.
Derek's eyes widen as you walk into the room, when Garcia had told him that the new team member was tall and muscular he had been expecting maybe someone six foot, but you stood at about six foot five, built well (to say the least), with a septum piercing, stretchers in your ear lobe, a helix piercing, and an industrial piercing. And, based on the darker tones that showed through your shirt, you were inked too.
You all made quick introductions before you sat down, immediately turning your attention to Penelope before heading off to the case.
After the case was finished, Rossi had decided to hold a family dinner at his (with instructions to bring swimwear - apparently, he had recently had a pool installed). You agreed to go, despite feeling slightly out of place, making sure to wear the trunks under your jeans as it was easier and made sure that you brought clothes in your rucksack.
An hour after dinner (you didn't want to get cramp in the pool because you weren't sure whether or not that was a myth and you weren't about to embarrass yourself in front of your team just yet), you all went into separate rooms to get dressed. You kept your t-shirt on for a bit, planning on only taking it off when you went into the water.
Walking out into the garden, you plopped yourself on a chair, tuning in to the conversation. "I'm just saying that statistically speaking, the most common birthday in the US is September 9th,"
"Really?" You asked, "That's my birthday,"
"Seriously?" Morgan asked, you nodded.
"Yep," You said, "What can I say? I'm a Basic Bitch,"
When JJ and Emily joined the group, Emily grinned, "Pool time?"
Morgan grinned as he and Emily both cannon-balled in, when he resurfaced, he turned to you all, "You joining us?"
You stood up after the others, pausing for a moment before taking your shirt off and leaping into the pool.
"Oh my God, he has a nipple piercing?! Are you guys seeing this?!" Penelope exclaims, slapping her hand against Emily and JJ's arms.
"I did not see that coming..." Emily muttered, JJ nodding in agreement.
"Do you... do you reckon down there is...?" Penelope asked, giving them both raised eyebrows and a smirk. Emily and JJ both rolled their eyes.
"For God's sake, Penelope, focus," JJ laughed.
"I can't, he's too dreamy."
#what even is this#i'd like to apologise#but also i loved this prompt#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#spencer reid#david rossi#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#x male reader#male reader#reader#x reader#insecure reader#because projection
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kiss his little wrinkles 🤣🤣 I agree he’ll be so smug about it! Tell everyone about it on HoH
He glanced at Haarlep, lounging on a sofa near the bed, looking young and energetic as always.
Your hand came up to his face, turned it back towards you, captured his eyes. "Copper for your thoughts."
The cambion didn't respond. No matter how long he held you, he felt all his insecurities bubble up inside him. He aged. His mortal half impacted him in so many negative ways, but this was definitely the biggest insult. He looked into your eyes - your young, mortal eyes, and he questioned if you found him ...appealing at all. Visually.
Or if you were just drawn to his charm and power.
There was no denying you felt for him, but did you also enjoy looking at him? Or did you - like he, himself - prefer to look at the paintings of his younger self? And the walking image of his younger self, that was Haarlep, scrubbed clean of all the imperfections that were bothering him so much about himself.
His eyes wandered to Haarlep again. Perfect. They were perfect. Beautiful and young. A better version of himself. His brows knit together, and he saw from the corner of his eye, how you turned your head to follow his gaze.
"What, do you prefer to look at Haarlep, rather than me?" You questioned with mock offense in your voice, "I'm hurt."
His head swiveled around to face you again, "No. Not at all." a pause, "Do you?"
You cocked your head to the side, regarding him in puzzlement for a moment. And then it clicked.
"My darling devil," you said, cupping his face with both hands, "you are so much more attractive than Haarlep!" You kissed his nose - right on the little bump, Haarlep was missing. "He's missing all the interesting bits that make you look so handsome," you added and you kissed the little dimple on his chin. You could see the disbelief in his eyes - and the surprise.
"And he looks way too young for my taste." You conclude and lean up to kiss Raphael's slight crow's-feet. "You are... like fine wine." You sit back again and smile at him with all the love you can muster, while still holding his pretty face in your hands. Caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.
And slowly you can see his face light up, like a flower starting to open in the morning sun. You smile, and he smiles. And you notice his chest puffing up a bit, as your words disperse his insecurities.
He looks over to Haarlep again, but not with that melancholic look he had before, no. Now... now he looks smug.
Haarlep rolls their eyes.
The following days, every single soul trapped in the House of Hope, gets sick of hearing the phrase "aging like fine wine" over, and over, and over, and over again...
Haarlep's name for the next month is reduced to "baby face". They contemplate drowning themself in the pool.
Raphael has never been merrier. Nor more full of himself. He commissions another portrait - a proper one, that shows him how he is.
He hangs it over the entrance of his wine cellar.
#bg3 raphael#baldur's gate 3#anon ask#raphael the cambion#rds#raphael baldur's gate 3#ficlet#insecurities#I dunno why the things that aren't prompts often tickle my brain#but here you go#hope you liked it anon
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I’m not any of the anons from before but as a fellow kazuichi fan I’d personally love to hear you talk about why you like him if you feel like it! personally I was first drawn to his character design, I just thought he looked cool, and then the second he opened his mouth and revealed himself as a loser, I loved him like ten times more lol. I know some people think he’s ‘creepy’ but I feel like he keeps enough a distance from Sonia that he’s just a guy with a crush, and also his “don’t you ever just wanna take girls apart and see how their bones work” line lives in my head rent free
Ok well. Sorry dude (genuinely) but I dont think I think of him the way a lotta ppl do. Heres my take sorry if it ruins it
First of all, do I LIKE his character? No. I like what could become of it if handled well, in the future (same with Akane and Sonia and... a lotta characters tbh).
I dont want to gloss over that he was really not cool with Sonia. I DON'T think it was like, a simple silly crush like any other dude would have, I think he WAS inappropriate about it and (most likely completely unbeknownst to him) enforcing things that she genuinely could not stand. He was insecure and took it out on others as well as himself.
These are all character flaws. Every single character has them (some more than others). Fuyuhiko was genuinely a dick (as I have said many times, having anger issues isnt an excuse for the way he talks sometimes), Hiyoko is a bully, Ibuki is insensitive when se gets caught up, Impostor is condescending sometimes, etc. Kazuichi isnt the only one to be a jackass sometimes and t deny it is to deny his character, just as much as reducing him to only that is oversimplifying it.
What I like about Kazuichi is: the design.
(Ok jk but I do enjoy the design a lot)
I like the teenage insecurity. He thinks he wants to be a chick magnet, but gets scared when girls show an interest in him. His ideal woman is basically a barbie doll. He's a little too eager to see his boy bestie naked. He was so excited for a class retreat because he's never had one before. He was so desperate to be cool and tough and not a nerd that he drastically (and no doubt painfully, ow, TEETH) changed his appearance to conform to his Ideal Self, but could not actually change his personality.
He's basically a teenage boy, warts and acne at all, trying so hard to be The That Guy but spectacularly failing. He's actually somewhat of a genius (and the Death Trap stuff hints to him having a lot of repressed turmoil which honestly so true, teenagers whose only outlet is fantasizing about the gory demise of their tormentors, SO TRUE) but he can't SEE that because he wants to be some kind of cool punk frat bro dude. He's so busy living up to some idealized version of himself that he fumbles who he actually is, which if he just took a moment, would be a pretty cool dude. Basically, did you ever discover a cool band and tried to model your entire personality after what you thought those vibes would be? That, but sad.
So yeah, I think he's great at comedic beats, and also has a lot of heart underneath it, but has never been in a place where he can just accept that and let it shine. His last words were basically "here I am, don't forget me!" which like, man, isnt that just relatable teenagerism?
#I dont like how many ppl excuse his behaviour towards Sonia like. It wasnt malicious but it was really insensitive. As a reader who doent-#-know his inner mechanisms it was uncomfortable (you can hc him whatever u want but I'm speaking from just memory no hc).#He made a lot of awkward fumbles and missteps as did a lot of the characters. But to me hes just such a teenage dude#With all the insecurities and sexuality crisis and trying to impress in an environment where he has a chance to (as opposed to.. home.)#not an art#Sorry anon I disagree with you. But u did prompt me to actually talk about this so thanks!
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Cassie and Gregory's first meeting, and how it might've gone in your eyes! OwO I'm curious~
Happy Birthday Cassie
(2532 words)
Technically, it's not the first time they've met.
They had been face to face a few times, but only with fleeting glances and little words. Standing next to eachother while they wait for the bathroom here, met eachother in the nurses office there, sitting next to eachother in class always.
But even then, Cassie had never really given Gregory a second thought. Sure, the kids in class talk about him, or more like how hes almost never present. One thing, and one of the only things Cassie knew about Gregory is that he only came to class half the time.
Another thing she knows is that when he does come to class, hes always dirty and ruffled, like he was in a fight or crawled through something dirty and small, and hair a mess, like he doesnt spare it any thought. Cassie herself could never imagine letting her hair get that tangled and messy.
Not only that, but despite Gregory's attendance, of lack thereof, he somehow has incredible grades. Cassie only shares her Math class with Gregory, but shes ever only seen A's from him.
Cassie would be lying if she said she'd never been curious. The other kids would always whisper and gossip about him, and nobody could ignore someone that notorious.
Not to mention how mysterious he is.
But Gregory, like a lot of things, had been shoved to the back of her mind when her birthday party at the Pizzaplex was only days away.
Cassie beams when shes the first one in their class, hands drumming on her desk and legs wiggling as she eyes all of the sparkly pink envelopes she put on everyones desks.
This party is going to be legendary! She thinks, unable to stop the bolt of excitement that shoots through her when kids start spilling into the classroom. Its gonna be awesome when everyone shows up. We'll play Fazerblast, go through the maze in Mazercise, maybe I can even meet Roxy!
She shoves the thoughts of her party that have been making her loose sleep from excitement the past week or so into the back of her mind, trying to keep her face neutral when kids start sitting down at their desks and noticing her party invite on their tables.
Just when she thinks the last kid had filed through, curiously, surprisingly, Gregory is one of the people attending class today.
He looks just like he always does; same blue shirt he always seems to have on with wild, tangled brown hair. His knees are smudged with dirt, but with tracks in them as if he attempted to wipe them down with a wet napkin.
Cassie suddenly feels self conscious of her decision to leave an invite on Gregory's table, just in case, when he comes to a stop in front of his desk and takes notice of it, right next to her.
She averts her eyes, and takes to watching the other kids. She sees some people eye her invite, and only give it a few twirls when they pick it up before shoving in their backpacks. Some people open up the envelope and read the contents, and some people ignore it all together.
But one cluster of reactions really gets her attention.
The area of the classroom that house the more popular girls, coincidentally all seated right by eachother, all eye the invite in almost incredulous curiosity, before each of them lean over to their queen bee when she rips it open and the contents Cassie had hand-written are out for the world to see.
Cassie feels her cheeks burn when the girls all whisper in hushed conversation, mean grins on their faces as they giggle not-so inconspicuously, looking over their shoulders directly at her.
She feels shame coat her stomach, any trace of excitement for her birthday replaced with humiliation and embarrassment mixing together like an ugly poison.
She hides her face in her sweater, avoiding eye contact, and tries to ignore the hushed giggles that she knows are making fun of her.
Of course. What was she thinking, inviting them like that? They're notorious for being mean, especially to unpopular people like Cassie, but she guesses she just wanted them to feel included, like how Cassie wishes she did.
She dares to peek open an eye when the sound of an envelope rustling catches her attention nearby, and she glances over to her right.
Gregory is sitting down at his desk, carefully peeling the sparkly envelope open, all while giving the girls at the front a death stare.
Cassie dares to watch as inconspicuously as possible, watching in curiosity to see how Gregory, the most mysterious boy in class, who always felt just one step above them, busied and dirtied from events nobody knows about, will react.
He doesn't seem to notice her just yet, just continuing to try to explode the girls with his mind, until he looks down at the card, putting the still intact envelope to the side.
Some kind of embarrassment shoots through her stomach when she watches Gregory's eyes trail over each word, and she only has half the mind to look away when he reaches the end.
She was just in time, because from the corner of her eye, she can see him looking at her.
She doesn't dare look over at him. Lest she make eye contact, but she does acknowledge how he gently folds the card back up, slips it inside the envelope, and puts it in the smaller, more isolated pocket in his backpack.
🐺
This has been the worst birthday ever.
That's the only thing Cassie can think as she hides in as she sits at a table in one of the party rooms, mascara running down her cheeks as fat tears roll out of her eyes.
An empty party room.
Nobody had shown up to her birthday.
She had put the instructions on the card, already knowing exactly which party room she'd be using. She put the room number and even directions on how to find it inside. She thought of everything.
Which meant nobody's here not becuase they got lost, but because they had deliberately not come. Even her Dad had ruffled her hair and told her to have fun, before leaving her to wait for her guests to go off to work at some other part of the Pizzaplex.
Cassie is completely, utterly, gut wrenchingly alone on her birthday.
The thought sends her into another round of tears, and she can feel how her face is scrunched up, despair wrinkling her chin, and all she can do about it is wipe away the tears with the sleeve of her sweater.
Today was supposed to be perfect. She was supposed to have fun with her friends. She was supposed to cut the carrot cake her Dad had ordered for her and share slices with them. She was supposed to race against them at Roxy Racers, and maybe even meet Roxy herself.
As she sits in the empty, gloomy room, sad and alone, she thinks its safe to say today is not perfect.
After another round of tears, shes suprised to hear the sound shes been waiting for all day.
The door to her party room slides open, clunking against the wall, and Cassie can only catch the shadow on the table before she finally looks over, half-hazardously wiping away the bullets of tears still staining her cheeks.
The air is stolen out of her lungs when the last person she had expected to come to her party stands in the doorway.
Gregory takes a step into the room, the same Gregory from math class that nobody has ever seemed to see at school two days in a row, that Cassie had always felt so curious about. The door slides shut and once again throws the room into complete silence, save for some cheery music to the theme of 'Fazbear Birthday' playing quietly on the speakers.
Gregory takes a look around, looking at the floating balloons and empty chairs and the sole, untouched carrot cake sitting in the middle of the table, empty places littering the table in front of each seat.
Cassie feels self consciousness redden her cheeks, when he finally looks at her, and Cassie tenses, scrambling to find something to wipe away all remnants of her previous breakdown so Gregory doesnt see how much of a weirdo she is and walk right back out that door.
"Um- I-- Gregory!" She finally stutters out, resorting to using the tablecloth as a tissue as she wipes at her eyes, and Cassie has no idea if its helping at all or making her definitely smudged makeup worse. "Haha, hi! Um, I'm sorry, I didnt expect you--"
"To show up?" Gregory finishes, and Cassie startles when she sees him smile for the very first time ever. "You invited me, why would I not come?"
Cassie finds that shes unable to answer, and she just pauses, unsubtlety glancing towards the rows of empty chairs as a crestfallen look undoubtedly appears on her face.
She tries to shake it off, not wanting to look like shes fishing for pity or sympathy in front of Gregory, but she cant help it when the complete lack of people in the room besides herself and the one, only person who came to her party overwhelms her again.
She can see Gregory startle when she promptly bursts into tears again, and she abandons trying to clean up her ruined makeup, just hiding her face in her hands as she let's out almost cartoonish weeps.
She feels shame build in her stomach when the tears don't stop, nor does the burning, aching feeling in her chest, and she feels Gregorys presence shift from the middle of the room to the plastic chair at her side.
"Im-Im sorry." She says in between sobs. "Y-You shouldn't have to deal with me. I'm a m-mess."
She feels Gregory lay a hand on her shoulder, and only then does she finally lower her hands ever so slightly, peeking through her fingers.
Gregory is just looking at her in a way shes never seen before. He looks sympathetic, but in the most <i>non</i> judgey way possible. Hes offering her a soft, comforting smile, and it stretches wider when she finally makes eye contact with him.
"Its okay to be a mess. I mean, nobody came to your birthday party." Gregory tells her, and she feels embarrassed in the same way she did before, but also almost... relieved? Appreciative? That Gregory didnt beat around the bush and just said straight up what happened.
It feels less like somebody is trying to calm her down because it's what they're supposed to do and more like she has somebody else in it with her.
"If you didnt cry about it, I'd be confused for sure. I saw all of those invites on the other kids' desks." He says, and turns around to fish something out of his backpack. "'M not surprised those girls didn't come. They seem like pretty big assholes."
A startled laugh bursts out of Cassies chest, and the shame dissipates just a little bit. "Y-Yeah. They've always sucked. Always rude to me, too."
"I sure wouldn't doubt it. I've never been around to see it, though." He says, and then finally finds whatever he was looking for in his bag.
She tries not to get even more emotional when she sees the stark sight of pink sparkle against Gregory's dirty, Glamrock Freddy themed backpack, tucked neatly inside the pocket when he turns back around.
When she finally looks towards him, he's handing her a cloth with that same look on his face, that makes Cassie feel almost immediately at ease.
"I wish I could give you a cleaner one..." He says, almost sheepish, but Cassie is still caught up in the thoughtfulness to notice. "But hey, better than nothing!"
The cloth is a bit dirty; its white and has a smudge of pale yellow that looks like an old stain, but Cassie still takes the cloth gingerly, using it to wipe away some of the mascara tracks on her face and smudged purple.
"Thanks." She says, and when she tries to hand it back to Gregory, he just pushes her hand back to her chest.
"Keep it." He insists. "Not the best gift, but... I hope itll help you feel just a bit less gross on your birthday if you end up crying again."
Cassie definitely does not tear up again at the almost jarring understanding and non-ridicule. Gregory points out that she might cry again, and that's it okay. It's a sad day.
So she just uses the gift (because that's what it is; a gift) to wipe at her eyes, stopping any more makeup that caked up her face before from running again.
"Thank you" She says genuinely, and Gregory grins at her when a smile breaks out on her own face.
"No problem." He says. "Now, instead of moping around, how about we eat some of that cake and then go race in some go-karts?" Gregory throws out, pointing a finger at her Roxy colored stars clipped to her sweater.
She sniffs, rubbing away the rest of the upset that plagued her when she had been all alone (because she isnt anymore).
Cassie smiles, and she can still taste the salt on her lips, but she grabs her own plate and Gregory's, and goes to cut the cake.
"Wait!" Gregory stops her. "Arent you gonna make a wish?"
He gestures to the unlit candles, molded as the number twelve, and she pauses.
"They arent lit, though..." She points out.
"Leave it to me." is all Gregory says, and he pulls out a lighter from one of his pockets without a single elaboration as to why he even has one on him. He lights the candles, and pockets the lighter, grinning at her when he pulls back and then taking a deep breath.
"Happy Fazbear birthday, pizza games and cakes!" He starts singing, and Cassie cant help but burst into laughter when he exaggerates his voice in the same was Freddy does in the song.
Cassie almost cant blow out the candles because she keeps smiling, and it interrupts her every time she tries to blow, but eventually, the lights from the candles fizzle out, and Gregory's clapping along with his cheering echoes through the room, and Cassie cant help but feel her cheeks redden.
"Happy birthday, Cassie." Gregory grins, and Cassie, for once today, is happy.
Gregory wastes no time grabbing a frankly huge slice of carrot cake and stuffing his face, but Cassie lingers for just a moment longer, pausing.
I wish, She begins, ignoring how sappy her wish is about to be. that Gregory and I stay friends after today.
When Cassie grabs her own slice, an edge piece with a lot of frosting on it, Gregory starts jabbering to her with jokes and clever quips, and Cassie feels tears prick her eyes. This time not from the entirely silent room clouding her with sorrow, but from Gregory's boisterous laughter that sends her own stomach cramping from joining in.
ao3 link
#got this prompt from using a random number gen on prompts ive recieved! hope you like it#ignore how i characterize cassie similar to evan shes just emotional but isnt insecure about it and hating herself like evan is#pandas writes#oneshot#ficlet#gregory and cassie#gregory#cassie#fnaf gregory#fnaf cassie#fnaf ruin#fnaf fic#prompts
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Character Ask Meme
Lyney 14, 15 and 23
[Character Analysis Ask Meme]
Would Lyney be honest with you?
With his outgoing and fun personality, it oftentimes is easy to get caught within his flow. Lyney is the charming sort, after all, that one may very well forget that he is subject to the same struggles as the rest. Get to know him well enough, though, and you will quickly realize that this is not a fact he wishes others to know. More than a desire, he needs to be seen as someone in control, as someone without weakness. That’s his role as the big brother. And if that means lying, avoiding, and omitting the truth to accomplish it, then as an accomplished performer he will do as he must.
Does Lyney prefer to pursue or be pursued?
With a penchant for flair and dramatics, it’s clear to see Lyney prefers to pursue the people he’s interested in. Really, it’s one of the things he goes all out. With a trick up his sleeve, he won’t hesitate to dazzle you with flowers pulled from nowhere and fireworks from his tophat. He wants you to be enchanted. He wants you to be impressed! You are, aren’t you? You like it, don’t you? So focused on charming you that he often loses sight of much else. Fun fact, should you attempt to turn the tables, however, you can expect his mask of self-confidence to fall to reveal a rather flustered expression beneath.
Headcanons under the cut!
Headcanons
Self-focused - If there’s one thing that’s true about Lyney, it is that he is a very busy person. As a person with multiple masks and roles, his thoughts are often preoccupied with House missions, performances, new tricks, and things of the like. So, much to the dismay of others, it’s easy for things to become buried under the multitude of other tasks he needs to take care of. How often the simple things become forgotten—where he last left his wallet, tea time with his siblings, the sale on picture books at the bookstore. During those times, he really can’t help but appreciate his siblings and their ability to keep him on track. Really, he doesn’t know what he’d do without them!
Relationship-focused - It doesn’t hit you at first, but it doesn’t take you very long to notice how hard Lyney tries for your relationship. Normally this would be a good thing, but it is different with Lyney. Every day he tries to charm you. Every day he attempts to enchant you. You tell him he doesn’t need to try so hard, but that only seems to light a fire beneath him to do even more. You see it in his eyes. He needs to know you are still in awe of him, that you like him as much as he does you. And then it sinks in, doesn’t it? He doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust your feelings for him. You’re not sure if he ever will.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#lyney#lyney x reader#my writing#character analysis#okay let’s talk lyney for a bit#i think the biggest thing to know about lyney is that at his core he is an insecure person#insecure and anxious#imo he’s extremely attached to his title of ‘big brother’ that he needs to fulfill the duties if such#he needs to protect his siblings and be a person others can rely on#this belief is so strong that he refuses to rely on arlecchino for help and snaps at freminet for trying to get him to open up#he really cares about the way he’s perceived#remember when the traveler found out he’s part of the fatui and he spends his time bending over backwards to try to get them to trust him#‘like me! like me! please. i’m trustworthy i’ll never lie to you please!!’#honestly imo that’s just one if his faults like lyney is unstable#idk what possessed arlecchino to make him her successor like he’d crack under pressure#lynette is a way better option#but anyway bc of these things he would not trust his partner in a relationship. he wouldn’t rely on them#he’d never feel secure which would prompt him to keep trying too hard to ensure he’s still the person he thinks you fell in love with#the most important thing to remember with lyney is that he is a performer and the face he shows to the world is essentially a mask#on a separate note tho anon like…#you probably didn’t mean it but i am not a machine that generates text whenever you order me#answering these things takes time effort and energy#so like… if you’re going to send in an ask please at the very least say please or thank you#hell even a heart emoji would suffice LOL#sorry the headcanons are not the most romantic i’m no good with overtly romantic things
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MINORS DNI
Title: The Outlaw King
Pairing: Male OC x female!reader
Summary: Reader is the daughter of a struggling noble who in an attempt to save the prospects of his family begins marrying off his daughters, he is successful for the most part, until his youngest remains. Viewed as lesser compared to her sisters in her appearance, the reader is left without any suitors. Until her father is forced to marry her off to an outlaw.
TW: Female reader, insecure thoughts, chubby!reader, midsized!reader, she's got boobs, reader herself doesn't act insecure but she would be described as insecure yes. Older sisters say cruel things without thinking of consequences, discussion of weight gain and loss, reader is seen to be not as attractive as her sisters, starving oneself is brought up, and the outlaw is a bit vulgar (he likes something to grab) and is accidentally cruel (he doesn't mean to be, he's just an idiot and a man). Reader is insulted by her sister.
NSFW: swear words, vulgar descriptions of sex, he's just horny for reader, I didn't try smut cause I suck at it, but I might try it in a separate fic, the word whore is used (sex workers deserve respect, I'm using it as a historical term), groping, smacking ass, discussions of non/con (it does not happen), implied consensual sex or as consensual l as arranged married sex with an outlaw can go.
If I have forgotten anything let me know!
Notes: Not gonna lie this is very much a vent fic. So it might seem a bit too specific for a reader's fic. There will be some triggering topics brought up so if any of the above is not your cup of tea please move along. Also please please please use your own discretion for this one, I would hate for my writing to reinforce insecurities in anyone or bring up bad thoughts about themselves. So once again please please please use discretion. No one is forcing you to read this.
Reader discretion is advised! Also, I hope I don't need to say this but I will just in case, I do not condone these sorts of actions!!! Or any actions in any of my work. This is pure fiction. Also, all my OCs and the reader are over the age of 18+.
Lots of love Mae xx
Alphabet
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"Are you sure you want to wear that dress?" your sister questioned, her mouth forming a tight grimace. Her ringed hands made their way to her tidy hips. Her dress was one of emerald green, its linen fabric delicately wrapped around her waist and cascaded down to the floor in waves. It was a beautiful dress and she looked like an angel in it. It had been your mother's. She had given it to you before she passed away, it hadn't fit you though, despite your late-night struggles to tame the fabric around your hips and breasts. You still remember trying to silence your tears as you nearly ripped the black silk ribbon designed to close the dress at the back. Your chest had been too big and the fabric too tight. So you had given up and gifted it to your sister. If the lands hadn't betrayed you maybe you could have asked a maid to take out some of the seems, but the famine meant you had no extra coins for silly things like thread.
"I thought it looked nice" you answered, voice soft and head bowed. Your hands had come up to your belly and they were currently pulling and twisting your fingers. Your dress was one of dull blue. It was a favourite of yours as it did not pinch your skin or constrict your breathing, nor did it leave marks around your arms where the seems dug into your soft flesh.
"It is dull and plain" your sister scoffed "how are you expected to catch the eye of a suitor if you look like that". she pushed past you towards your closet, ripping open the doors to find a more appropriate dress.
Her words left poison in your gut and tore at your heart. You had spent all morning twisting and curling your hair, putting dainty flowers in the braids. You had redone your rouge and kohl three times, to the point where tears of frustration nearly ruined everything anyway. You had thought you looked decent, maybe even pretty. But as soon as your older sister walked through the door, looking like Venus herself, you thought the flowers in your hair made you look childish and the kohl made you look tarty.
"It is important that we all look our best today. Papa invited nearly all the lords and their sons in the kingdom. Without our bride price, our people will suffer" she mindlessly rambled as she threw dress after dress from their home onto your bed. She had no need to remind you about the reasoning behind today's festivities. Your father's lands were the largest agricultural producer in the kingdom, but sickness had plagued the soil leaving the crop rotten. Without a harvest, your father was forced to buy crops from the other lords, but his coin was running low. In order to save his people from starvation until the famine resided, he was forced to marry you and your sisters off for your bride prices. Your father had cried bitter tears at the thought. He had no sons and you and your sisters were his everything. The only solace he had was his oldest daughter and her future betrothed would be the next lord and lady of the castle, allowing him at least one daughter to remain. You on the other hand, as the youngest, feared you may never see your father or sisters again once married. It was seldom a husband allowed his wife to travel away from her place by their side.
"Ah! This one, try this one!" your sister cheered, pushing a lilac dress into your arms. You recognised it immediately.
"Oh no, not this one" you stammered, already trying to push it back into her arms.
"What? Why not? Just put it on, the suitors shall be arriving soon" she snapped, her eyes looking at you with annoyance.
"I cannot" you stressed, begging her with your gaze.
"This is ridiculous. Put the dress on and be done with it." she insisted pushing you towards the changing stand
"It does not fit" you whispered, hoping she would leave and forget it all. She continued to push you.
"It does not fit!" you shouted, removing yourself from her grip. You turned towards her and watched as her eyes softened.
"It does not fit? Well, then I will tighten it more. Silly girl it is a simple fix" she comforted, her hands now gentle as she once more pushed you to the changing stand. Tears began to swell in your eyes as you allowed her to move you.
"It is too tight on me" you whimpered, your voice almost a whisper. Her hands, which had been softly undoing the laces of your dress suddenly stopped. You could feel the air shift.
"it is too tight?" She coldly asked, her hands gripping the laces. "Papa only gifted it to you last month! It fitted then! What have you done hm? Gouged yourself on the lager while others starve?" she hissed, her hands ripped away from you as she grabbed the dress in your hands. "Papa used coin that could have been better used elsewhere for you! For a silly dress that is as good as rags!" she roared, hands ripping and tearing at the fabric. You were sobbing now, watching as the pretty purple fabric was left tatted on the ground. When she was done, she looked at you with steely eyes. For a moment you thought she might hit you.
"Fine, stay in that tatty rag. Do not come crying to me when the men look past you" she sneered, leaving your room in a huff, slamming the door behind her. You fell to your knees as tears dragged black kohl down your cheeks. It felt like hours, but it had really been only a short few minutes before your father opened your door calling your name with cheer.
"Where are you my dear! My scouts have caught sight of the first Lord!"
His merriment was soon killed when he saw you on the ground.
"Oh, my love! Are you alright? What happened? No more tears now, that's a girl. Dry those eyes." he comforted, holding you in his arms as vengeful tears raced down your cheek. After a few moments, you choked out what had happened. A part of you thought that maybe he would punish your sister, reprimand her or, as a cruel part of you wished, banish her from the festivities. But your father loved you and your sisters equally, sometimes a little too much.
"I am sure she did not mean to. She is just worried because of the trouble that faces us. That is all." he explained patting you on the back.
"Come fix your eyes and I shall redo your laces and then let us meet the Lords, yes?" he cheered, helping you up to your feet.
After harshly scrubbing your face clean of the kohl and rouge and quickly putting some more on (only rouge this time, the kohl made you nervous), your father lead you down the corridors of the castle. You knew he was speaking to you about your sister, how he would ask her to apologise to you and that maybe your oldest sister (your favourite, she was rarely cruel) would gift you an old dress of hers (you knew it wouldn't fit either), but you drowned him out with dreams of what might come. Before this afternoon you had imagined that a nobleman would fall in love with you at first sight. That he would beg at your father's feet for your hand in marriage, that he would gift you flowers and jewels and you would discuss politics and arts. Now you imagined one of the noblemen scorning your sister, declaring her undesirable and a wretch, before he declaring his love for you and carrying you away while you laughed at your sister's misery. It was a cruel thought, yes, but it warmed you. You wished you could say you hated your sisters, but you still loved them, which is why it hurt so much when they made comments on your looks. Friening pity and worry, leaving giggles and snide looks your way. They were like sweet poison. You couldn't wait till distance made the heart fonder.
You and your father finally made it to the steps of the castle joining all four of your sisters. Your eldest sister gives you a smile, another a glance, and the other two, including the sister you wished would tumble down the stairs and fall flat in the mud, give each other a glance and then a giggle. Your father left you standing next to them as he made his way to your oldest sister, just in time for a bugle call and the thundering sound of horses racing through the castle square.
They have arrived.
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You wished they never came.
You had hoped for love at first sight. That you would catch a glimpse of a dashing man and you two would fall head over heels in love. That you would dance the night away in his arms and be announced his betrothed by morn. Then you wished that you would strike up a conversation with a lord, and you would discuss history and medicine and by the end of the night, you would be walking through the gardens with your arms intertwined. Then you just prayed one of them would talk to you. They favoured your sisters heavily, ignoring you in conversation to laugh at a quip your sister made or would speak over the top of you altogether. By the end of the night, you had drifted to the sides. Watching as your sisters danced in the arms of charming men you knew would be their husbands. Even your oldest sister had abandoned you. You had gone to her in the hopes she would comfort you, and she did. Until the middle son of a Southern Lord asked her for a dance, and then she was gone. She did promise to come back, but you watched as the two of them huddled together in the shadows. You were feeling miserable and jealous yes, but not enough to steal your darling sister away from a chance of happiness.
So instead you just hid in the shadows, counting the minutes until you could hide away in your room. It wasn't the first time something like this has happened. You had become used to being seen as the lesser sister during events and ceremonies. It wasn't like you were dull. In fact, you were intelligent, charming and funny, but when you were placed with your sisters it was like all that seeped away from you and you struggled to reach their level of grace and poise. Tonight hurt the most, however, because the survival of your people depended on you catching the eye of a suitor. Without all four bride prices, your father would not have enough coin to buy next season's shipment of food. Your people would starve otherwise. For the first time in your life, you actually started to believe the cruel comments your sisters would make. Maybe you really were undesirable? Maybe everything would be easier if you had your mother's face and not the rounded one of your father. You were failing your father and it was because of something so inherently you. There was nothing you could do to change it, it is who you are, and here a room full of men deemed it unworthy.
You had decided you were done. Nothing more to do but leave and hideaway in your room. You left quickly, struggling to hide the tears swelling in your eyes. Your father would come looking for you, maybe, but it was nothing an excuse of lightheadedness couldn't control. Once arriving in your room, you were quick to scrub the rouge from your cheeks and rip the flowers from your hair. With a screech, you threw them to the ground. You had spent a whole morning picking them. You were foolish to think they could elevate a face like yours. You then tore yourself from your dress and drove under the covers. Like every night since she passed, you wished your mother was here. Even though you knew she would just call your worries silly and ridiculous, or worse offer to help you fast. It often seemed like you were like a goose in a family of swans. While not harsh to the gaze, you were nothing in comparison to the other women in your family.
Crying yourself to sleep, you whispered over and over again that it wasn't fair.
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You watched as your sister waved at you from the window of the carriage before darting back inside. Your father beside you was cheering, with tears running down his rosy cheeks. Your oldest sister was linked in arms with her husband, both smiling and waving at the carriage as it disappeared from sight. Since the ball a week prior, all your sisters had been married. All their suitors declared their intent the morning after the festivities. A part of you had been hopeful, foolishly so, that maybe you had caught a suitor's eye. That they had just been too shy to approach you but had wanted you for their wife. You were terribly disappointed when no man stepped forward when your father called your name. It was humiliating too, watching as some men even took steps back. It broke the last bit of hope left in you. You had been terribly jealous, watching your sisters fawn over wedding dresses. You had just stood to the side, lightly touching scraps of silk that had been discarded on the floor. You had watched in envy during each separate wedding wishing that could be you, that someone wanted you enough to announce their loyalty to you. It made you sick to the stomach with the amount of guilt you felt feeling that way.
If you had been disappointed and miserable from the whole affair, your father was devastated. He was so close to saving his people, and yet he had failed. You remained by his side. He was torn between his love for you and relief that his youngest would not leave his side so soon but also shattered at the prospect of his people suffering. His once loving and kind attitude towards you suddenly became cold, and he often refused to look you in the eyes. He loved you, yes, but sometimes you think he blamed you. For what you weren't sure. Maybe for not at least trying on that lilac dress, or maybe not being as charming as your sisters were. A cruel and wicked part of you thought that maybe he blamed himself, for siring a creature like you.
He had since tried to discuss marriage with less favourable suitors. But the poorer lords could not afford the bride price he need and the older (much older) lords made you cry at his feet begging him to reconsider. He succumbed to your pleas. But at a price. He warned that if you continued to refuse his choice of suitors then by the last day of the month he would marry you to the next willing and able man who asked for your hand. And so your father declared to the whole kingdom your hand in marriage. That any man (noble or not) who could afford your bride price could come to his lands to ask for your hand. You had a condition of your own. They could not see you until the bride price was paid and you were lifting the veil in the church. You did not want to be humiliated any longer by shallow men. You were allowed to see them though, with you hiding behind your father's counsel room walls, peering through a hole created for your eyes.
So for the next week men viring for your hand arrived. You refused every single one. They were far too old, or far too young. They had had five wives previous and all had met a grisly fate by 'accidental drowning'. They kept asking your father what you looked like and made jokes about not wanting to be tricked into a marriage with a beast. Some seemed respectful and charming until they laughed at a poor serving girl tripping over their foot while your father was away from the room. One kept picking at his teeth, another had attrocious manners and sneezed all over your father. You refused all.
It was finally the last day of the month and your oldest sister was fusing over you. This whole affair made her fret, she had begged you to at least reconsider sending the last suitor away (the one who sneezed), but you were adamant, if not a little frightened. Maybe you should have lowered your standards. Maybe you should have given the sneezer a chance. At least before you had a choice, but now? Now it was whoever walked through the castle gates. You weren't hiding behind the wall today. It wasn't your choice. Instead, you and your sister took tea in the garden as you nervously wondered who your husband would be. Before everything had started, you had prayed for a charming, dashing, handsome man. But now you could only hope he was kind.
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Your husband-to-be was an outlaw. A rogue. A criminal and thief. Most definitely a murderer and only the Lord knew what else. To even think your father allowed this match brought tears to your eyes. But he had sworn that on the last day of the month, he would accept the first man to ask for your hand. You were sure he never thought it would be the infamous Outlaw King (why wasn't he just arrested or killed on sight? movie magic baby). He disgusted you, your betrothed, you had only seen him from afar, still refusing to let him see you until the wedding. But your sister had told you all. About how he waltzed into the castle and pushed past your father's guards to declare his intentions for your hand. He hadn't even asked! He had thrown the required price on your father's table and had only laughed at the sight of your father's wide eyes.
Your father could only nod his head and approve your betrothal. You remember your father meeting you in the gardens to tell you of your betrothed. Your sister had exploded into fury, while you had just sat still in shock. You had heard tales of him of course, an immoral and cunning man, leading a band of outlaws deep in the woods. He was said to be the bastard son of the King's brother. Left to fend for himself as a babe in the woods. That he was raised by a she-wolf and inherited her blood lust. He was handy with a knife and brutal with a sword. That every whore in the kingdom longed for his presence, for the gold and pleasure he provided. It was said he killed a man for just jesting he was as good with a sword as he was. He was a vile man and yet you were to be his wife. You had cried in your bed at the thought of him, of his vile hands touching you. Your sister had tried to console you but it was your duty to your people to marry him.
The day of the wedding left you frightened. You were worried about many things. What would become of you after your wedding? Of where you would live. Would you be expected to steal and rob like he does? Would you be classed as an outlaw too? all these thoughts helped distract you from the most worrying of all. What if he didn't like you? What if even a scoundrel like him didn't want you. Then you really would be a failure of a woman.
You don't remember much before the wedding, just your sister whispering in your ear about how to make it less painful, you hadn't been listening so you don't know what she was referring to. You remember your hands feeling the silk of your wedding dress as your sister laced the ribbon in front of the mirror. For a brief second, you thought you looked pretty. You also remember your father's grip on your arm as he walked you down the aisle before hesitantly passing you to the tall and stocky man in front of you. Tales of the Outlaw King will have you believe he was a lean figure with fair hair and blue eyes. A resemblance of the Prince he was supposed to be sired from. Instead, he was broad with deep brown eyes and dark scruffy hair. He had a wide cheerful grin and he looked far too excited for this sombre affair. He was so excited he didn't even wait for the priest to tell him to lift the veil, he just yanked it up and let out a low whistle at the sight of you.
"You sure are pretty huh" he grinned. A blush made its way up your cheeks and over your ears. It was the first time anyone had ever called you that. You could only stare at him before mumbling a thank you, you were raised to be polite after all, and then you turned towards the priest with palms sweaty. He spent the whole ceremony stealing glances at you and urging the priest to hurry up. Asking if all the formalities were necessary. The congregation was split between some being disgraced at his antics and others amused by his merriment, either in awe at his presence or his own men, shouting and hollering encouragement. However, when he pulled a knife on the priest when he tried to ask if anyone wanted to object, the guests all gave out a cry of hysteria, with only his men howling in joy. It was frightening to see the priest pushed up against the altar, your future husband's dagger at his throat. You gave a yelp at the sight and backed away slightly. You were reminded that he was not a nice man.
"You can skip that part father. Unless anyone has anything to say?" he joked cruelly, turning to the church with his arms open wide, dagger shining in the light of the sun beams through the windows. Your father looked like he was about to faint and your sister was being held back by her husband.
"No? Wonderful. Can we get this show on the road then father? I'm itching to be balls deep in my pretty lady by nightfall" he beamed putting his knife away. You yourself felt like you were about to faint. A heat rising from your stomach. You did not know if from disgust, fear or heaven forbid want. A cruel part of you whispered that maybe it was all a joke, a wicked ploy to have you believe he fancied you. But the look he gave you when he turned to smile at you, had those thoughts racing away. You could hear your sister hissing out curses, while your father groaned in defeat.
The priest, skipping a few steps, then declared you man and wife. You felt your husband's large hands grip your hips before dragging you to him, your chest bumping into his. He quickly brought you into a harsh kiss, his tongue prodding at your opening, you could only stand there still, your hands pressed tightly up against him. His hands made their way down to your arse before he gripped it tightly, a moan of satisfaction coming from your husband and a gasp from you. He took the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside. You could hear the cheers from his men and the polite, almost disgusted clapping of your guest. He tore himself away from you to turn to the congregation, giving out a howl of joy and throwing his hands to the heavens. His men went wild. Some began jumping up and down on the pews, while others began to slap the wooden material creating a deafening sound of thunder. One even had two swords in his hand, waving them around his head in joy. You had started to turn yourself to look at your father and sister but were stopped when your husband gripped your thighs to throw you over his shoulder with a yelp. He walked towards your family, you were in shock at it all and could only react with a squeal as he playfully smacked your bottom a few times. Stopping in front of your father and sister, you lifted yourself slightly up to meet their gaze.
"Don't you worry sir, I'll take real good care of her. Hell, next time we meet, there might be some ankle bitters running around" he laughed, giving a particularly hard slap to your arse. You gave a yelp and your father fell to his chair with a groan. Your sister was spitting curses, her husband desperately trying to hold her back from hitting your husband. Your husband only laughed with cruel mockery as he left your family, walking down the aisle into the fresh air of the world beyond.
You were plopped on the ground outside as dozens of wild cheering men pooled around you. Shouts of congratulations and well-dones were lifted into the air. Your husband was clapped on the back and brought into tight hugs. Every one of them had big smiles gracing their faces. Slowly they drifted away. You looked over their shoulders trying to find where the carriage was. Instead, a man leads a large bay stallion over to your husband. Your husband thanked him before turning to you.
“Up you go princess” he grunted, grabbing your waist and hauling you up on the saddle. You tried to get comfortable, but your dress pooled around you, making it hard for you to sit right or even see the stallion’s head. You turned to ask your husband if there was a carriage to take, but you were stopped by the sight of his hands tearing at your dress. You gave a shout of fear and using one leg you tried to kick him away. Instead, just grabbed it with one hand and ripped it with another. Scraps of silk lay forgotten on the muddy ground. His hand on your ankle was rough and warm, and it left tingles behind. After doing the other side as well, with you once again trying to kick in his teeth, your lower legs were bare. The removal of the excess fabric made it much easier for you to sit and you gave him a begrudging thank you. He just smiled at you and gripped your ankle tighter before running his hand up your skin, to your knee and diving it under the remainder of the dress before resting it on the meat of your thigh. He pawed at your soft flesh before giving you a smile.
“That’s alright princess” he cooed, before lifting himself up behind you. You tried to give him some more room, moving forward slightly. However, you were pulled back by his arm around your waist, leaving your arse pressed tight against his groin. You tried to move forward again but was once more pulled back.
“Come on sweet cheeks, don’t you wanna make your husband happy?” he sang, and you gave him a small hesitant nod. “Then sit that arse right here and let a man enjoy his wife’s company.” He teased, his mouth finding its way to your ear. He encouraged the horse forward, and he gave a groan as you were jolted back and your arse ground against him.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that” he cooed. You could only blush and tense up, trying desperately to ignore his hardening member digging into you.
You turned your head to look for your family, finding them standing on the church steps. You gave a small wave and a little smile. Your eyes began to swell with tears as you watched your father fall to the ground in grief. His youngest taken by an outlaw. You turned around quickly not wanting to watch your father’s misery.
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"I saw you" he remarked, leading his horse into the forest.
You had been riding all day and you had yet to have a proper conversation with him. Instead, he would shout vulgar remarks to his men, telling them how desperate he was to sink into your warm cunt, or he would joke to them how the only reason he hadn’t torn the rest of your dress off and taken you roughly on the ground was that he didn’t want the sight of your soft, sweet flesh available to the dirty bastards. After each conversation and jest, he would give a laugh and then squeeze a portion of you. His favourite place to grab was your thigh. You would often be startled by his hand finding its way under your skirts, where it would run up and down before squeezing and finally leaving. The conversations and his touch left you breathless and terrified. You were sure this man would force himself on you and the idea of it left you shaking. After a vile comment made by him about how he would soon teach his pretty princess how to suck cock like a whore, which made you give out a sob of fear, he suddenly refused to joke with his men about you further. Even ordering one man to get off his horse and walk when he made a particular vulgar comment on how your breasts would look, bouncing on your husband’s cock. Since then, the group only spoke of other things, like robbing and killing. Your husband remained silent throughout. So, it shocked you when he remarked that he had seen you, his voice was much softer than you had previously known.
"Pardon?" you queried, slightly turning your head to him.
"The night of that big party you had. Me and the boys came to rob everyone blind, but then out popped you. You were wearing that bluey-looking dress, looking all pretty and shit. I liked the flowers in your hair, made you look real sweet. I guess you could say it was love at first sight. Couldn't rob everyone when I was thinking about you" he said, hand resting on his own hip and the other leading the horse over tree roots and rocks. You listened intently, thinking back to that night. Surely you would have seen an outlaw. You blushed at his words; a small smile fought its way to your lips. Until it was ripped down with his continuing story.
"You ran off before I could nab ya, tried again a few more times during the week of all your sisters getting hitched. Kept just missing ya though. You were running this way and that, and sometimes you wouldn’t even leave the castle! I may be a fool in love but I’m not foolish to think I would be able to get past your guards and steal you away.” He chuckled as if he was relaying a funny little tale down at the pub. “But then your old man declared your hand free game! all it took was a little hard work robbing some rich fucks and next thing I knew we're getting hitched. My ma would be proud, I got you the honest way! who would have thought huh?" he beamed, giving you a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"you stole the money. And you still tried to kidnap me" you said in shock. Your eyes widened in disgust.
"so?" he questioned, he really saw no problem with his whole plan. Suddenly you turned a corner and in front of you was the Outlaw’s lair. It was remarkably put together. Houses and huts hidden under the canopy of the trees, some even in the branches of the tall trees, and bridges traveling throughout creating a roadway of planks and rope. It was amazing.
“Welcome home princess” he cheered, it did nothing to kill the fear inside of you.
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You listened to the continuing festivities outside the wooden walls. Your husband (whose name you still didn’t know) told you that his men would party into the wee hours of dawn. But your husband had other things on his mind than drinking, he had snatched you from the horse and carried you into his bed chambers, throwing you onto the bed. You had given a shriek of surprise and quickly sat up moving to the edge of the bed, just in time as he fell to the space where you once were. He gave a groan of frustration and lifted himself up to his elbows.
“Come here wife, I have dreamed of that sweet cunt since I first saw you. Let me finally have a taste for all my good work” he grunted before reaching for you. You jumped to your feet.
“I don’t even know your name!” you blurted out, thinking quickly about how to tame this man’s lust without touching him.
“Its Bingus” he remarked, face bored.
“Excuse me?” you asked, you weren’t one to judge but that name did not suit the man in front of you.
“Of course it isn't! It isn't exactly a name that inspires fear and respect” he chuckled as he also stood from the bed. You stood tense, standing close to the wall. He gave a sigh before answering your initial question.
“It's Alwyn,” he said as he slowly stepped towards you. He reached out with his hands, and you flinched slightly. He moved his hands up and down your arms, giving you slight comfort. “ Now that you know, I expect you to scream it loud enough to drown out those fuckers outside”
He grabbed your waist and lifted you up, placing you on the bed with him firmly on top. His body was in between your legs, and you tried desperately to push him off.
“Oh, you wound me sweet cheeks! All I want to do is show you my love!” he teased “and how can I not, with you laying in my bed looking like the prettiest whore there ever was"
You gave a cry of anger as your hand raced for his face. He easily grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand flat onto the bed next to your head.
"It's a compliment sweet cheeks! I mean it in a 'fucking hell my wife is so fucking hot, I'm about to blow my load just at the sight of her pretty tits' way." He consoled. “And what pretty tits they are. I mean look at them. I just want to bury my face in em” he groaned before doing exactly that. You felt his lips mouth at the skin of your cleavage, the rest hidden by your dress. The pleasure left you flustered, and you gave out a moan. He started to grind his pelvis against your clothed warmth. You could feel his hardening cock straining against his pants. But all the feelings, of pleasure, confusion, nervousness and insecurities overwhelmed you.
“Did you mean it?” you whimpered, grabbing his hair with your non-trapped hand, and pulling his face up.
“Mean what princess?” he cooed. Eyes and smile dopey with lust.
“Do you really think I’m pretty?”, you whispered, tears making their way to your eyes. He released your hand to gently hold your face.
“The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in all my days” he soothed going in for a kiss.
“You aren’t just saying that right? Right?” you sniffed, turning your head for his kiss to fall flat on your cheek, he lifted his head with a groan. You needed to know. Needed to make sure he wasn’t just lying to you to get you to willingly give up your honour.
“Now why would you say something like that huh?” he probed. You looked at him with teary eyes. Begging for him to leave it and forget it.
“Well? What got my pretty lady worried?” he implored.
“I just don’t believe you” you sniffled, a rogue tear traveling down your cheek before his thumb swiped it away.
“Don’t believe me? Sweetheart I would be a fool to not think you are the prettiest, most gorgeous being I’ve ever seen” he laughed, once more going for a kiss. Once more you turned your head, this time his mouth finding its way on the pillow, he gave a grunt of frustration.
“How can you think I’m beautiful when I look like me?” you whimpered, tears following quickly. His head snapped up quickly. His eyes darkened. His gaze was harsh, but his fingers on your face were soft. His thumb gently wiped away the offensive tears.
“Who told you otherwise?” he snarled, his face twisting into anger. But when your face turned to one of fear, his eyes softened, and his face became gentle.
“Who was it, sweetheart? You tell me and I’ll burn their fucking house down” his voice soft and soothing, his thumbs moving their way to your lips, tracing their outline. You hesitated. It wasn’t like anyone at had ever out rightly told you, you were ugly or unattractive. But it was what they hadn’t said. In the way your mother would call your sisters beautiful and gorgeous, then turn to you and say you liked nice, just nice. How only your sisters were ever praised for their tidy figures and easy-to-manage breasts by the dressmaker, while she only ever tsked and sighed measuring your hips and bust. It was in the way you had always felt left out, never feeling like an equal, sometimes not even feeling like a sister. Instead of telling him all that you just gave him a shake of the head and a sniffle. After a few moments of silence, he relented, maybe later he would ask and then he would get to burn something. But right now, he needed to change tactics.
“You know…I’ve always had a thing for girls like you” he encouraged, leaving sweet kisses on your rounded cheeks and jaw, before looking down at you once more. You looked at him with inquisitive eyes.
“You’re so, so soft, and there’s so much to grab and fuck me but your thighs? Heaven. And these tits? the way they bounce when you walk? Fuck, it's enough for a man to blow a load at the very sight. And the way your arse jiggles? I just want to bend you over and fuck the daylight out of you” he moaned, kissing up and down your neck. You became flustered, the only thing you could do was listen and hold onto his shoulders as he continued his assault on your body. It was going so well too, you had started to think he really did see you as desirable, as someone worth loving. Until he opened his big stupid mouth again.
“So what you’re not as thin as your sisters or some other women? I like my women well fed and fuck sweetheart look at you! You’re as well fed as a heifer in spring!” he cheered, his eyes bright with joy and his mouth smiling wide. You on the other hand were frowning. Giving a cry of anger you pushed him off you and jumped from the bed. Angry tears began rolling down your cheeks as you looked for something to bash him with. Ah, a broom! Grabbing it you turned to swing it at him, Alwyn shouting in confusion and shock, only narrowing missing a stick to the face by leaping from the bed. You tried to swing at him again, but he grabbed the broom and pulled it forward, you along with it. He held you in his arms as you raged against him, sobs crying out.
“Hey! Hey! Come on princess, what now!” he exclaimed trying to soften the blows to his chest from your hands.
“It’s not fair!” you wailed, “It’s not fair!” Finally tired from all the excitement you slowed your assault, leaving you to sob into his chest, hands covering your face. You could feel his hands awkwardly rub your back. You hated him.
“What’s not fair?” he whispered.
“It’s not fair they look the way they do, and I’m left looking like this” you choked, “it's not fair they are called as fair as a swan in flight or, or as pretty as a sunflower in summer or as beautiful as Venus herself. And I’m left to be compared to a heifer! A heifer!” you broke down into more bitter tears by the end of your rant. Your tears left damp splotches on his shirt. He deserved it.
“ A very pretty heifer” he encouraged, making you growl in anger and restart your war against his chest.
“Ok! Ok! You don’t want to be called a heifer! I get it!” he exclaimed grabbing your wrists together to stop you.
“But you are as pretty as a sunflower, or as beautiful as a goose” he soothed, hands resting on your hips and fingers rubbing small circles.
“Swan” you sniffed.
“Right. As beautiful as a swan” he took a pause, “I thought they were the same thing? Aren’t swans just baby geese?” he questioned, head tilting slightly to the right.
“No!” you giggled; tears forgotten as you smiled watching as his own grin made its way to his face.
“Right, okay, so swans are swans and geese are geese?” he asked, a large smile gracing his lips. You giggled as you nodded your head.
“Okay, I get it now.” He nodded. “I don’t like swans. They are too pretentious, with really fucking long necks and stupid-looking faces. I like geese better” he remarked.
“I thought you didn’t know what a swan was?” you smirked, tears now drying on your cheek.
“I didn’t, I thought swans shrunk as they got older to be geese” he replied, face one of pure glee. This left you laughing deeply, your head falling back and a massive smile on your face.
“There’s my pretty girl” Alwyn cooed, watching you with pure love in his eyes. “I don’t know who ever made you feel this way about yourself, but they were fucking idiots. I mean look at yourself. As beautiful and as radiant as the first morning rays over a snow-covered mountain” he soothed, leaving a light kiss on your lips. Tears welled in your eyes but this time of joy.
“You’re pretty good-looking yourself. One might say handsome” you shyly smiled. He gave a chuckle before answering.
“Oh I know I am sweetheart.” He teased. You brought your lips to his and brought his hands to your arse, allowing him to squeeze. A moan came from both of you. But you still at one more question. Slowly removing your lips and giggling as he pouted you stared at him for a moment.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“When you said you fell in love with me?” you whispered, terrified you would break the spell between you two. Your fears dissipated as a dashing smile graced his charming face.
“I’m not a praying man, but I swear to any god that lives in heaven that it was the truth” he marvelled, hands resting once more on your hips, fingers falling into a familiar routine of small circles.
“I think I like you too” you softly spoke.
“Good to know princess.” He smirked, hands now rubbing up and down your sides “So how about you spread those pretty thighs for me and I find heaven for us both?”
he really did get to be balls deep by nightfall
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Hey guys it's mae!
I just wanted to have a quick discussion about the above topics just cause I want to make myself clear. I completely and utterly understand that it is not healthy to expect your partner (if you can call what these two have a relationship) to 'fix' your insecurities, that is something only you can try and work on. And yeah I don't think anyone will ever be without insecurities and therefore it is natural for partners to help each other through that. But you have to make the first step, even if your partner is the one to encourage you. I wrote this because of personal reasons and as a way of venting (don't worry it's mainly the feeling of my situation rather than based on any particular events). I see this as a fantasy and thus it does not relate to expectations of reality, you guys should view it as such too. There is nothing wrong with fantasising about someone rushing in and 'rescuing' ( i put them in inverted commas because he legit kidnaps the reader) you but I think it's also important to view yourself as your own hero. If anyone is struggling with body image issues and insecurities feel free to dm me (just remind me to post it privately I forget) and we can have a chat. I am not a licenced professional or anything but I can send you in the right direction. I know what it's like being told your entire life you're not good enough looks-wise. Anyway! I just wanted to make that crystal clear cause I do see people idolising a partner with the sole purpose of fixing their insecurities without putting the work in themselves or even helping their partners with their own insecurities. Also, you don't need a partner to be happy! It can be achieved, but this one goes out to us lonely bitches who just want to slow dance with someone.
All the best,
Mae xx
#oc outlaw#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere drabble#oc#yandere prompts#dub con#female reader#vent fic#insecurity#insecure!reader#chubby!reader
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Whumpee's intelligence is their most valuable trait. Their knowledge is coveted everywhere they go. It was inevitable that somebody would want to keep that knowledge all for themself... let's just hope whumpee is smart enough to not fight back <3
#idk. I've become very aware of the limits of my intelligence recently#and im feeling a little insecure about how smart I am#which is new for me. so it's weird#whump writing#whump prompt#whump#whumpee#whump idea#whump prompts
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in which you try to shake off your insecurities and plan a surprise picnic for your loving boyfriend; he reminds you just how amazing he thinks you are, his love silencing the mean voice inside your head (penpal!harry, photographer!harry, chubby!y/n, lhh)
A wish come true- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings
Through the viewfinder / alternatively, read on wattpad
Greedy bunny (word count: 4k)
It was a nice day out, and you decided to surprise your boyfriend with an impromptu picnic. You knew he had a short day at work, what with it being Friday and all, and so you packed your little basket along with a blanket and everything you needed and took a cab to his company’s studio.
You were going to drive to the picnic spot in his car (you didn’t have one and was frankly scared of the prospect of driving, so you didn’t even want one), since it was a remote place the two of you had accidentally found while you wandered off in a national park one day while on your bicycles. You’d spotted that cute little clearing in the forest and you both agreed that would make a perfect spot for a picnic one day.
You knew Harry would admonish you for carrying all the stuff to his work instead of having him come to pick you up from home directly, but that would’ve ruined the surprise factor. And you loved surprising him. You loved seeing his eyes sparkle with joy. Harry was such an expressive man, you never tired of watching him. He wore his heart on his sleeve. He never held back.
The basket was indeed quite heavy, but you were sure to pack everything Harry liked. Despite his appearance, he had quite the appetite. He was just naturally fit, his fast metabolism seemed to burn all those calories as though they were nothing, and he did work out a lot as well, but he didn’t overdo it. You loved the bit of pudge he’d put on his lovehandles sometimes. Made him look adorable.
You, on the other hand… well, you weren’t so lucky. You were always very careful with what you ate, counted your calories, went spinning, even did some yoga- but you were just always on the curvier side. A bit chubby, is how you’d have best described yourself. No matter how well you tried to balance your diet and exercise, you still could not slim down enough to fit your ideal standard. Maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for you.
Harry, however, loved your body, and he didn’t shy away from letting you know just how much. It had taken you by surprise. He could’ve had anyone he wanted; personality aside- he looked amazing, and could have had his pick at anyone. You’d not have expected him to be attracted to you. Guys like him normally went for similar body types- models, dancers, fitness enthusiasts, etc. But he’d somehow settled for you, and you could never wrap your head around why that was.
At first you thought maybe he was just drawn to you because of your bond from all those years back. Finding eachother after a decade since you’d been penpals in school without having met had been such an amazing experience! At first you thought to yourself, he was just being nice. Then, you thought he was just experimenting maybe, and that surely once he got to see you naked he’d run for the hills.
It’d taken you a long while to fully open up to him, partially because of your insecurities, and partially because of your lousy experience with your ex who had treated you badly. You didn’t want to lose Harry, you’d grown very attached to him in the 2 months you’d been dating, and you were scared to blow it all off once you’d finally have sex.
But then you took the plunge and it’d left you completely speechless. Not only had it solidified your relationship, bringing you impossibly closer, but he’d not ran for the hills- on the contrary. He seemed to be quite literally obsessed with your body ever since.
It’d been another 3 months since you first slept together and Harry was insatiable. He couldn’t get enough of you. He made you feel incredible- so wanted and cherished, and most of all- loved. You’d shared your feelings for eachother on that same night those 3 months back and he proved to you every day since just how much he meant them.
It’d been a major confidence boost. Harry knew everything about you, seen every square inch of you, and never once did he make you feel insecure about your body when you were in his arms. When you were by yourself, however, you still slipped into your old mindset, was still mean to yourself and disliked certain aspects of your appearance, but when he was around, that voice inside your head was silenced and was replaced by all the words of praise Harry would shower you with.
He had no reason to lie to you. He had no reason to stick around. And the way he was physically responding to you proved without a shadow of a doubt just how attracted to you he truly was.
You’d been shy at first, but under his constant praise and encouragement you’d let go of any inhibitions with him in the bedroom. You truly felt beautiful and sexy and acted accordingly, because you believed it when you were with him.
When you were alone, though… that was a different story.
You didn’t know if Harry knew about your insecurities. You’d never discussed them with him. You’ve had friends laugh at you when you’d shared them with them, telling you it was all in your head. Telling you you were way too harsh on yourself. And you knew, in theory, that they were right. You were not overweight by any medical standard, you were healthy, and active, and you did try and eat as clean as you could, you just… weren’t the way you were brainwashed to think you had to look to be beautiful. The way all the magazines, movies, tv shows portrayed how a young woman should look. You weren’t a model by a long shot. And you were starting to recognize that it was alright. Every body type was beautiful. Every shape and size. People had different tastes in partners for a reason. If everyone looked the same then it would’ve been incredibly boring.
You’d planned this picnic for a while, and had had a particular summer dress in mind for it all along. Yet, when you put it on that morning you felt as though it was hugging you in all the wrong places. You’d worn it before, but this time you just weren’t feeling like you looked that good in it. You were having one of those days where you were just bloated for no reason, and nothing fit right. You weren’t about to call the whole thing off just because of that, though. So you told yourself you were being unnecessarily harsh on yourself, and finished getting everything ready for the picnic.
You’d baked a cheesecake and packed some fresh homemade mint lemonade in cute glass containers, and as for savory goodies you’d made some caprese sandwiches with pesto sauce, as well as some pineapple salsa and guacamole dips to go with some store-bought tortilla chips and french baguette. Harry loved all of these and would probably scarf most of it down, and you were happy to have a taste of anything which would already go well beyond your daily calorie intake. Watching him eat with such joyous abandon would be the biggest treat, though. You were glad you could make him happy with your cooking, he particularly enjoyed anything you made with your own two hands as a labor of love for him. It was a rare treat, since you tried to avoid temptations and rarely cooked goodies. So you knew he would be a happy boy today.
All those goodies however made for a heavy basket. You’d initially planned on riding your bike to his studio, but you couldn’t secure it in a way that wouldn’t tilt you over. Not to mention you had to bring the blanket along too. So, cab it was.
Feeling a bit silly to be hauling the basket and blanket into the elevator, you also didn’t trust to leave the goodies with the security guy in the lobby. The last thing you needed was for someone to sample the goods before your boyfriend did the honors.
When you reached the 17th floor, you were immediately thrown into Harry’s everyday life as a photographer for his company. You’d been to some of their other locations they used for shootings before, but never the main studio. It was loud, music was blasting as though you’d just entered a nightclub, and the lights were pretty dim too. Lots of people roaming around but your eyes inadvertently went to the big canvas that was set up in the middle, with two models posing center stage. Fans were positioned around them to blow their hair away from their faces, and to create flow within the fabric they wore. Which was- incidentally- very scarce.
They were probably doing an advert for swimsuits, because that’s what they were wearing, one of the models also had a chiffon wrap around her waist but it was definitely see-through.
The bikinis might as well have been see-through. They were practically naked with how little the bathing suits were covering.
Legs that went on for miles, shimmery, golden, perfectly unblemished skin, amazing bone structure, just the right amount of curves, plump lips, impeccable hair and makeup… these girls were drop dead gorgeous.
Models.
Nothing you hadn’t seen before all your life, yet, seeing it unfold up close, and the behind the scenes was captivating. Nobody actually looks like that - is what you kept hearing. Airbrushed photos, photoshop, filters, etc. Then how come you were looking at them and there they were- looking absolutely flawless from head to toe? Was that just something normal people told themselves to feel better?
But something snapped you out of your train of thought- and that was none other than your boyfriend’s voice. He was chewing gum, you could hear it in his voice, that air of nonchalance it gave it- and was behind the camera that was set on a tripod, conducting that photoshoot. Telling the models how to pose, where to move their limbs, how to tilt their heads.
“Perfect! Great, more of that!... Beautiful! Now look straight ahead- both of you. Gorgeous.”
You felt a pang of jealousy you never knew was humanly possible.
You knew this was Harry’s job- knew it all along. Knew he was hired by his company to conduct all sorts of photoshoots. Some even more risqué than this one for sure. He’d done nude sessions as well, he’d told you as much. It was his job. And you thought you’d been ok with the idea of it. You’d imagined all those instances in your mind’s eye and you knew he was being professional and was just doing a job, at the end of the day.
But it was an entirely different thing seeing it unfold before your very eyes. Somehow, even though this was exactly how you’d been imagining it, give or take a few details, it made you feel ridiculous for ever believing you could be good enough for him.
He was exposed to these perfect people, up close, day in, day out, and somehow you were meant to believe he would choose someone like you to be attracted to?! When he very clearly belonged to this world instead. The world of flawless, insanely attractive people. Whereas you… were average, at best.
“Did anyone order takeaway?”
You were once again snapped back to reality, but by a different voice this time, one of a person by your side, wearing earpods and eyeing your basket curiously.
“Oh, no, I’m just here for my– for Harry.”
“Harry…? Oh, Styles?”
“Yeah?” your boyfriend shouted from behind the lense, without averting his attention from his task at hand.
“There’s someone here for you. Little red riding hood.”
You blushed furiously at the person’s little quip at your attire. It wasn’t even red.
Harry pulled back from the camera and his eyes immediately landed on you. No doubt you stuck out like a sore thumb.
He hopped off of his little barstool and sprinted towards you “That makes me the big, bad wolf then!” he grinned, taking you into his arms and kissing you without hesitance. “Fuck, bunny, what a pleasant surprise, eh? Is that for me?” he gestured toward the basket and picked it up from next to you “Owh, what’d you pack in there!? What’s all this, then?”
You didn’t even get to wiggle a word in, he was already going through the basket, his eyes widening and his grin spreading all across his handsome face “Fuck me. How am I supposed to finish this shoot? I wanna dive right in!”
“Well, you can’t.” you pulled the basket away earning a whine of protest from him which made you smile “We’re going for a picnic just as soon as you wrap up, though.”
His eyes lit up, just like you’d imagined they would when you were getting everything ready “We are?” you barely got to nod when he bent and kissed you, again and again making you giggle and almost drop the basket on the floor.
“Yes! Now behave. Go do your thing and I’ll wait.”
He fished his phone out of his pocket and then looked around for a second “Nah. It’s like 10 minutes to go, anyway. I think we got all we needed.” he then resumed his tone from earlier, shouting so everyone heard “That’s a wrap up, everyone. Good job. We’ll get in touch.”
“Oh– okay? I could’ve waited, though?”
“Nonsense” he put his arm around your shoulders and after nodding his goodbyes to a few people around, he guided you back to the elevator, making sure to take the basket back away from you.
*
The ride to the national park was nice, Harry had told you about an upcoming project he’d been assigned the following week, and he seemed really excited to get started on it on Monday. You tried to listen, but all you could think about was the seemingly parallel universe Harry was living in when he wasn’t with you. You couldn’t get that whole atmosphere from inside there out of your head. He kept his hand on your knee, squeezing it from time to time, no doubt to make sure you were paying attention.
You made your way to that clearing you’d stumbled upon a while back, happy to have found it just as nice as the first time around “Ah, this is perfect for a picnic, lovey. I’m so glad we’re doing this. Perfect way to end the week.”
You placed the blanket in a perfect spot and then sat down, with Harry not wasting a moment longer before unpacking the basket. He looked like he was unwrapping Christmas gifts, making excited noises for every little thing he fished out of there “You made all these yourself, bunny?”
“Well, except for the tortilla chips and the baguette.”
He groaned enthusiastically, leaning over “Kissy?” you smiled and pecked his lips “You’re amazing. I’m starving. Do you mind if we dig in?”
You giggled at how truly impatient he seemed “Have at it baby, it’s all for you.”
He kissed you once more, more like an audible wet smooch before going right for the sandwiches first. You handed him his glass bottle of mint lemonade and explained how you didn’t wanna bring any plastic single use cutlery. You could just take turns eating everything right out of the tupperware you’d packed them in and drink straight out of the bottles. It was finger food anyway.
“No baby, I can’t have any more, you finish them” you pushed the cookies back towards him, the same way you’d done with all of the things you’d packed. He kept trying to go 50/50 but there was no way you could eat as much as him. You were so full you felt you could pop.
“But you barely touched them! Come on, lovey. For me?”
You laughed, pushing his hand away that was making its way toward you with a chocolate chip cookie in tow “Nuh-huh babe. I’m full, seriously. I’m about to burst out of this dress as it is.”
He lowered his eyes toward your cleavage and hummed appreciatively “Hmm. I’ve noticed. You won’t hear me complaining.”
“I meant my belly, you perv.”
He leaned over and placed his head in your lap, snuggling into your body. You wasted no time and began playing with his long hair “I love your soft tummy. If I weren’t scared I’d crush you I’d sleep like this all the time. Plus it gives me easy access to other goodies” he snaked his hand under your dress’ hem and you gasped, slapping his hand away.
“Bad boy!”
“I know… I’m real bad.” he caught your hand and redirected it to his crotch, pressing your palm firmly against his very evident hard-on, making you gasp even louder “Yeah? Can’t help it when my sweet girl looks so fucking good. Good enough to eat. You’re my dessert.” he resumed his ascent underneath your dress till he reached your crotch. You had your legs pressed together, and he lifted his head up from your lap a bit to push them apart slightly, enough to grant him access before resting it over your thighs again.
“You… already had dessert.” you were already a bit breathless in anticipation.
“I love your baking, bunny, I really do. But this is what I’m really craving. Gonna be a good girl and let me have a taste?”
You watched him from underneath heavy lids, his eyes were hooded and his pupils had dilated considerably. He finally snaked his middle finger between your legs, hooking your panties and pulling them to the side, then pressed it right between your folds before pushing it inside you ever so slowly. His mouth fell agape watching you whimper at his gentle intrusion, and you nodded your head, granting him permission.
He groaned, pulling away from your lap and going in for a kiss, without removing his finger from inside you. When he pushed his tongue into your mouth he added another finger inside as well, placing his thumb over your clit too.
You moaned loudly and he smiled against your lips “There’s my dirty girl. Here we are in broad daylight, anyone could hear you or walk by and see you let me do these things to you. And you love it, don’t you bunny?”
You nodded, looking at how fucked out of his mind he looked. You couldn’t remember anything from moments earlier about feeling insecure in your body. The way he was looking at you and touching you made you feel amazing in your skin.
“Then lie back for me and let me eat that pretty pussy, hm?”
You did as instructed and he took off your flimsy panties, pushing your dress up and leaning in for another kiss while he searched for your g-spot again. He knew your body like the palm of his hands, so when you started mewling again he began kissing down your neck “That’s it. Wanna hear you, pretty girl. Show me how much you love it.”
He brought his other hand to the front of your dress and undid the bow at your cleavage, loosening up the fabric there, and then pulled one of the straps over your shoulder and groaned when your boob spilled out to the side. He caught your nipple in his mouth, sucking greedily and speeding up his fingers inside you. You could only hear birds chirping, some insects buzzing and the squelching sounds he was making plunging in and out of your soaked pussy.
“Harry!”
“I know, bunny. Come on my fingers so I can clean you up, lap you up till you spill again on my tongue. Come on. Give it to me.”
“Fuck, fuck!” your thighs shook violently, pushing his hand away.
“That’s a good girl! My best girl.” he pushed his soaked fingers into your mouth “Greedy bunny!” he chuckled teasingly when you sucked his fingers into your mouth clean “I was just giving you a taste, it’s all for me. This, I’m not sharing.”
He didn’t waste a second longer plunging his face between your sticky thighs “Fuck lovey, you made a mess! Mmmm” he hummed, sucking your clit into his wet mouth “Best fucking pussy.” he squeezed the back of your thighs, pressing his rings into your flesh. You were sure they were gonna leave indents. You loved when he did that, loved seeing the aftermath of your lovemaking.
And his mind seemingly went to the same visual “Gonna look at those marks on those beautiful thighs when I fuck into you from behind as soon as we get back to yours. Can’t fucking wait.”
“I can’t wait that long!” you whined.
He pushed your knees to your chest and slapped your ass before dipping his tongue inside you, making you cry out “Yes you will. Little tease, came into my work looking like that, made me drive all the way up here hard as a rock. Could barely enjoy what you prepped for us, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on your gorgeous body.”
“Harry!’
“Shush, bunny.” he slapped your ass again “Gimme another one and then we’ll go back to yours and I’ll teach you not to tease me like that again. But not here. Cause I can’t promise I’d be able to stop if someone really did walk in on us.
“Oh God…”
“Look at you gushing at the thought of that… dirty girl… you like that idea, don’t you?” he kept alternating between licking and rubbing at your clit with his thumb lazily “Like to show people what you do to me. Like to claim what’s yours. Is that why you came into the studio today, wearing this flimsy little thing? Wanna make sure everyone gets the memo, that I’m taken? Could hardly keep my hands off of you in front of everybody.”
“Fuck, baby…”
“Yeah? You know I’m right. And I love it. I love you. That’s it, you’re close again. Lemme have it, lovey, I need to get us home and bury myself inside you… Need you so bad” he pressed himself into the blanket, trying to ease the ache at least a tiny bit, moaning against you as he did so and that’s what sent you over the edge. He coaxed every little spasm out of you, and after kissing you thoroughly, he began putting everything away back inside the basket as you came down from your high.
You used a napkin to clean up a bit, then Harry helped you up and slapped your ass through the dress “Come on pretty. We got some traffic to beat. Sure wish you had a license right about now, I can barely walk let alone press pedals.”
You felt bad for Harry for having to drive with blue balls all the way back home. But he did bring it on himself, as much as he liked blaming it all on you and your apparently provocative getup. And to think you felt unattractive putting it on earlier in the day. You were now glowing. Radiating confidence in your own skin. You felt good, desired, appreciated. Harry truly made you feel like you were… beautiful.
You were back on the road and knowing there was a long stretch before you got off the highway, you leaned over the center console, palming his crotch and finding him just as hard as before.
Harry whined “Bunny, stop it, yeah? Gonna get us killed.”
“Just keep your eyes on the road” you whispered into his ear before kissing down his neck and pulled him out of his skinny jeans, with quite a bit of effort since they were virtually glued to him especially in this state.
“Fuck!!”
“Mhm. I know baby… God, you’re ready to burst. Tell me when you’re close so we don’t make a mess, hm? Gonna swallow it all. Just like the greedy bunny I am.”
A/N: i missed this verse SO much! they're just so special to me! hope you enjoyed their silly love and hope you always remember to be kind to yourselves! ❤️
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#tw: body insecurity#harry styles smut#harrys styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#lhh#long hair harry#penpal!harry#penpal harry styles#photographer!harry#photographer harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles concept#harry styles prompt#harry styles imagine#harry styles x yn#lhhconceptnight#a wish come true#masterlist#fkinavocado
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ooh 14, 14!
Blades is still talking about his boyfriend or something with Dani when Heatwave and Kade finally return, the latter being held up by the scruff of his shirt in the former's hand.
"Found him," Heatwave announces, giving Kade a little shake despite the human's loud protests.
"Oh, put him down," Dani lightly chastises, crossing her legs from where she's perched on Blades' shoulder. "He's not a kitten."
"I can't put him down," Heatwave snaps, seeing a little vision of Kade run away again in the corner of his vision. Wow, thanks. There's absolutely no way I saw that coming again. "He keeps running away like a sparkling!"
"Some of us aren't thirty feet tall, you know-" Kade starts to argue.
“Forty,” Heatwave corrects automatically.
Kade blinks, before shaking his head and recovering. “Fine. Some of us aren't forty feet tall-“
“You are not,” Blades interrupts, putting his servos on his hips. “Are you kidding me? Boulder is 40 feet, and they’ve got a whole head on you!”
Whatever rebuttal Heatwave might’ve responded with is drowned out by Kade’s screeching laughter.
Heatwave's shoulders rise to his audials, but another vision in the corners of his optics warns him against throwing Kade as far as he possibly can into the forest.
"Catch," he snarls at Blades, tossing Kade at him instead. Blades scrambles to grab him before he hits the ground. Heatwave's turned around already, but the little beat of relief in Blades' field is proof Kade isn't dead.
He's still laughing, though.
#I've tried to include the humans in the prompts#but I seriously just prefer to write the bots lmao#also my hc height for heatwave is like 36 ft#he's fairly average#taller than blades and chase but he's a little insecure lmao#maccadam#transformers#transformers rescue bots#tfrb#tfrb heatwave#tfrb blades#kade burns#dani burns#woosh answers#thanks for the ask!!#ask game#heatwave ask game#smoke and mirrors au
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