Jar Of Insecurities Novels & Stories

"I don't get it, way are you so worked up, we had an argument and I walked into the elevator I met with someone who gave me to wipe my tears off and encouraged me to never let anything break me down, now knowing I might run into this persona at least once more, is it sensible to try returning it to him? He's been nice and has done nothing wrong. More still if you are curious to know if there is something between us then I am very sorry to burst your bubble, you really can't keep making everyone feel bad because of your insecurities!" I lashed out, perhaps this was what Kora had spoken of, his insecurities that were definitely going to put many more problems on someone else entirely.. "you kn

I cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. He takes in a long deep breath before his eyes flicks to mine. "Please don't. He's not worth it." I tell him softly. Turning to the intruder, I glare at him. "And you, next time you want to come and cause trouble, make sure to do some research because obviously you suck at it. Pftt! What am I even saying? You obviously suck at everything considering the fact that you had to come all the way here. Instead of coming here to gloat to us, why don't you go back home and enjoy the throne you love so much? Do you know that vainglorious people actually have a lot of insecurities? I'm betting your own insecurities are the size of Mount Everest. Get the fuc

Something tight and sour welled up deep in my chest. In werewolf and bear society, strength was the ultimate passcode. Fangs, claws, the ability to tear down a threat—that was the currency people respected. And me? A defective Omega without a wolf spirit? Even if I’d achieved things, even if I kept telling other Omegas how important intelligence could be… deep inside, that monster called insecurity never really loosened its grip. I wanted to be strong—wanted it so badly that I ran like a wound‑up machine that didn’t dare stop.

“Am I being ridiculous? You’re the one who literally liked her picture. The one in the bikini. At the pool. That I was at!” My voice was shrill and I hated how I sounded, but I couldn't fucking ignore the hot, acidic jealousy in my gut. “It’s a fucking like, Stephanie! It doesn’t mean anything! God, you’re so insecure.” Insecure. The word was a match to the gasoline inside me. “I’m insecure because my boyfriend can’t keep his fucking eyes in his head for five seconds? Yeah, it must be me.” “You know what?” he snarled, the car swerving slightly as he jerked the wheel. “I am so fucking done with this. You want to be a crazy bitch? Be a crazy bitch. Get out.”

He said warningly. The words hung between us. Something flared in his eyes. Possessive. Protective. Jealous. “Don’t mistake this for insecurity,” he said quietly. “I’m not.” “Good.” But his hand tightened anyway. As if he was restraining something far more primal than diplomacy. ------------------------------------------------

Every sip of alcohol carried the sting of her tears. He could still picture her, left sitting on the floor in that thin layer of lingerie, curling her knees to her chest like a frightened child, her sobs muffled against her palms. She had looked so… defenseless. Like a porcelain doll someone had carelessly dropped and cracked. For the first time in years, Aariz felt shame gnawing at him. His hands—hands that had broken bones, held weapons, signed million-dollar deals—had just stripped away the safety of the only girl who had ever looked at him with innocence.

“Of course. Guys like insecure women. It’s very satisfying making a girl feel better about herself. Much harder to do when the girl’s all confident and comfortable in her own body. Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.” “I don’t care if you blame me, you fucking idiot,” said Jenny, subtly intimating I’d missed the point. “What if someone comes along who doesn’t let you down? What if she can help you when you need her? You’ll go off with her, and no one would blame you.” So much insecurity, such wow.

After the murder of my manager, I started getting paranoid — I couldn't walk on the streets without my heart banging against my chest and my eyes wandering here and there, searching for anything suspicious. For all I know is that he could just come to my apartment this instant and kill me, but why isn't he doing it yet? Perhaps, does he yet not know where I live even though he killed my manager? I've no idea.

“And get this, he’s so insecure about meeting her that he’s planning to hide his identity on their first date.” “No way,” Zoey says, and I can hear the disbelief in her voice. “Xavier? Insecure? That doesn’t sound like him at all.” “I know it sounds crazy, but according to Jasper, this girl has Xavier completely messed up,” I explain. “He’s paranoid about his looks and worried that she’s going to reject him when she sees him in person.” Zoey makes a skeptical noise. “Are you sure Jasper isn’t just messing with you? Because this sounds like the kind of thing he might make up to get a reaction.”

“It doesn’t suit you. It’s making you look like a kid. But at the same time, a teenager that has innumerable insecurities about herself.” Shitty hell? Innumerable insecurities? I don’t even have one. “How dare you even say that word to me? Even just a single one, I don’t have that. I’m not the type of person that gains insecurities, Mr. Tryst. It seems to me that you’re too blind to see that.”