GENRE: little angst, mostly fluff!
WARNINGS: there's insecurities regarding looks/weight mentioned.
NOTES: this is for hpthalia who is actually an angel!! sorry it took so long and i hope you like it hon <33
SUMMARY:
reader is insecure about themself, but Scott (their boyfriend) always seems to know just what to say to encourage them.

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When Scott first saw you, it was instant love. Or something close to it, anyways. From the moment you met, he utterly adored every part of you in a way that his friends would never let him live down.

Scott wasn't particularly shy, or outgoing - - but he was always the one to reach out first when it came to you. He didn't think he could hold back from it, anyways (no matter how nerve-wracking it was to be around you in the beginning).

You were all blushes around him, and it didn't really stop as time went on, especially since you developed an almost immediate crush on him when he was so nice, and genuinely seemed to like talking to you. He'd carry your books, and always make an extra effort to see you, and ask you about your day. The more he knew about you, the more head over heels he was for you.

And yet, somehow, you never thought he'd return your feelings. You'd lament on and on to Jean and Ororo (who had to keep their mouths shut, when they knew from Scott's mouth that he really liked you) about how you never thought you were good enough for him, and that the thought of him crushing on you too, was definitely impossible. And they'd always tell you how beautiful you were, and how good of a friend you were - - but there was still a part of you that was deeply insecure with yourself. Of course, everything in the world screamed that it was unfounded - - but your anxiety couldn't help but get the better of you.

You were eventually proven very wrong. Much to the elation of all of your friends, who'd had to deal with your mutual pining up close, for a pretty long while.

He'd asked you out on a fluke. He wasn't planning it by any means, but it kind of just came tumbling out of his lips in a way that made both of you flush red. You'd been studying for a midterm together, and you looked up at him with the most beautiful, shining eyes. And he couldn't help himself, really. Not when he was already hopelessly devoted to you when you were only friends.

There wasn't a thing about you that he didn't adore: from the way you laughed, to the way it felt to run his fingers gently through your hair. How you'd always listen, and always seemed to care so much for him. And don't get him started on your body. He was endlessly lost, daydreaming about your apexes and curves with a vivid imagination.

You of course, said yes to the date, still not able to process that your feelings were requited at all. He layed out a picnic for you in the manor garden, tucked in a little corner in the rose garden that Scott made everyone steer clear of for the day. It was utterly perfect, and you'd been dating ever since.

You loved the way he held your hand in his slightly larger ones, content and smiley that he got to call you his whenever he could manage to bring it up. His absent minded touches and kisses, like his affection was spilling over for you - - manifesting in little moments you shared, no matter the situation. You always held him up, and he made you feel more proud and content about yourself than most anyone else. It was difficult to always have control of your self-confidence, but Scott helped you to keep on track, and build those foundations for yourself.

But every now and again, when you were particularly overwhelmed, it'd all get too much.

The gnawing feeling that you weren't good enough for him. That there were so many beautiful girls he could be with instead of you.

Scott seemed to have a natural intuition as to when you felt upset, even though you were only a couple of months into your relationship. As soon as he'd entered your dorm room after you'd yelled for him to come in, he noticed the way your shoulders were dropped, and you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Hey, baby," He greeted, offering you a warm smile, just like the ones you always complimented him about. He could see the way he nearly drew a grin from you, fighting its way to the corner of your lips as you greeted him back.

"Hey, Scott. How are you?" You asked, offering a a slightly unconvincing smile, your eyes not quite meeting his.

"I'm okay, love. You seem upset - - what's up?" He queried gently, hoping not to be too pushy as he sat down on your mattress right beside you. His caring hands reached for yours, enveloping them in their touch in a way that made you peer upwards without thought.

"I hate how well you know me," You mused, though your boyfriend knew you didn't mean it in a harsh way. If you felt any better, you'd probably be making fun of yourself about it.

"Yeah, I know. . ." He shrugged, "But you like me all the same."

You let out a genuine little laugh, and Scott couldn't help but beam with pride - - his chest filling with a sunny feeling that he always got around you.

"Now, what's on your mind? I'm always here to listen. I won't judge," He promised you, deep brown eyes wildly tender despite the red quartz obscuring them.

You breathed out at his words, not sure where to start, when your brain felt all parts scrambled. You'd wanted to tell him, and vent to him anyways. But it was still hard to be vulnerable, and especially to say something that might seem like you don't believe your boyfriend.

"It's just. . . I've been feeling insecure lately. I feel like. . . I'm not as pretty as some other girls around here," You uttered, voice not above a whisper as your arms crossed over you'd body self-consciously. You didn't dare to peak at his expression, knowing he was holding back the urge to scoff.

"Baby, that's not true and you know it!" He exclaimed, as if scandalized that you'd even imply something like that. And he most definitely was.

Especially when he'd thought you were an angel since he layed eyes on you. Completely transfixed by you in a way that made him dream of you in infinite loops, like it was the only thing he ever had to see for the rest of his life. He'd always wanted to capture all of your little details, and flaws, and keep them to himself. He thought every inch of you was a thing of beauty.

"I don't know if it is. . ." You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes as you shifted away from him slightly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"You're beautiful, (Y/N)," He stated, plain and honest, and full of the most adoring conviction. You wanted to meet his eyes and tell yourself it was all true, but you were too afraid. Scott instead, chose to take your chin in his grasp slightly, tipping your gaze to meet his, "Hey, look at me. I love every inch of you. Not anyone else. . . but you."

Your mouth went dry at the mention of love, stomach exploding with a feeling that was all too familiar around him, "Thanks, Scotty," You whispered, offering him a tug of your lips as he left an adour-filled kiss against your forehead. His arms wrapped around you, drawing you into a big, warm hug against his chest.

You sighed into it, feeling content that you were no longer on the brink of crying. Happy that you had Scott to talk some sense into you. To comfort you in down moments, and hold you when you needed his affection the most. He was the best cuddler.

Scott eventually pulled away from you slightly, leaning apart to look down at you with a raised eyebrow, "What's up, honey? What's going on that's making you say this, huh?"

His protective and attentive disposition made you evermore thankful that you got to call him yours. Your heart would never stop beating like crazy around him, though - - no matter the time that passed.

"I don't know. . . I've just been feeling bad. . ." You admitted, knowing it wasn't a very good description - - but it felt all accurate to you.

"You don't have to tell me what it's about. But if you do. . . I'm all ears, baby," He encouraged, his hand running against your arm comfortingly, soothing as he watched you.

"Thank you, Scott. I really appreciate it," You made sure to meet his eyes when you told him, knowing that you wanted to convey how much it meant to you. It wasn't often that you felt like you could bare yourself to someone, and Scott was quickly breaking down walls that others took years to conquer. "I don't know. It's just. . . I'm always worried about my weight, and my hair, and - -" You cut yourself off, thinking he would interrupt you to scold you a little for the self deprivation - - he didn't, instead offering you an attentive look, "I know it has to be irrational, but I wish I was different."

Scott but his tongue, wanting to yell at whatever person or thing that had caused you to doubt yourself this much. But he knew that wouldn't help, and he knew you need something else. Someone to listen, and someone to offer kindness and patience to.

He sighed against his own will, recapturing your hands so that he could bring them up to his lips, brushing a kiss to your knuckles as he spoke: "If it counts for anything, I don't think I'd like you any different. You're gorgeous as is."

"Scott, you're such a flirt," You groaned, even though your face had turned a lovable shade of pink that your boyfriend was thoroughly enjoying. You were grinning anyways, heart fluttering as you shoved him playfully.

"Sure, but it's true! I'd go to the ends of the Earth for you. No matter how you feel about yourself," He told you, and although his tone was nonchalant, you knew he'd meant every syllable.

"Thank you," You replied, slightly breathless at his admission.

"And I'll cherish you every day. . ." He added dreamily, leaning in for a soft kiss that you couldn't help but meet. His one hand held the side of your face, secure and comforting as ever while your lips moved in tandem with each other. There was a lot conveyed in that short kiss, but both of you seemed to understand. When you pulled apart, you wished you could carry on until the sun rose.

Isntead, you admitted, "I hope so."

"I know so," He said, more serious than you knew him to be most of the time, as he held you steady to focus on him. Yet his voice was soft, timbre like honey as he spoke (and no matter what he said, you were sure to be following along), making sure not to cross a line with you, "We all have this idea of how we wished we would look. How we wish we could be. And it makes how we really are seem like this nightmare we can't escape from. But that's not it. We're prefect how we are. . . it's just our own brains screwing us over that makes us think otherwise."

"You're right. And I know it. . ." You sighed, placing your hand on top of the one that lay against your face, "But it's still hard."

He smiled at your summation of the situation, thinking it was just like you to chalk it up to one sentence. But he loved it all the same. Just like he loved you God, he loved you.

Oh, fuck. He loved you. And he was just about realizing it as he continued to speak, "I know. . . but I'll always be here for you. Just like you appreciate me with all my flaws." He'd dropped his hand from your face, but still allowed yours to curl into his in a way that made his heart thud. It was the little things that made him this deep in for you.

"As if you have any!" You rolled your eyes jokingly, but squeezed his hand anyway, hoping to get across how much you cherished his words, and him, "You're a total ten, Scott." As soon as it left your mouth, your were blushing again, but in a way you didn't mind. He was your boyfriend, and you obviously thought he was hot! It just wasn't every day you declared it outright.

"Who were you calling flirt earlier, huh?" Scott teased with a growing smile on his perfectly plump lips, that for some reason, you so desperately wanted to feel again.

You chuckled, shaking your head at his retaliation, but not protesting when he was taking your hands in his, and placing them on his shoulders to guide you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers lost in his hair as you peered up at him with a smile. Watching the way his dark eyes glimmered down at you proudly as you admitted, "Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't want you any different either, Scott."

"Thanks, baby," He laughed, though it was slightly breathless as he leaned into the touch of your fingertips on his scalp. You cooed at his behavior, and he didn't seem to mind your affection, "You wanna do something nice? Maybe it'll take your mind off of things,"

"Sure. . ." You beamed, feeling your boyfriends arms wrap around your waist tightly. He felt secure, and warm, and you were so, so glad you had someone like him to call your own, "I'd like that."