#this is very awfully proofread so please forgive me

[staycait]

⊹ 　 ﹒ 　 ❝ 　a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦

𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?

𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .

𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .

﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!

> story right under the cut <

SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.

for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.

you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.

you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,

“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.

hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !

“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.

you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.

the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.

“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.

“huh..?”

you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.

“what do you mean by that..?”

“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.

“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”

you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!

you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.

as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.

“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”

“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”

scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.

“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”

you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.

“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”

your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.

“no… not at all.”

scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.

“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.

“i suppose so..”

scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.

“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.

a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.

“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”

your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..

his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.

“can we.. go to a private room first?”

…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?

after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.

SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)

how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.

scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.

the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.

you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.

“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”

scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.

you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.

“answer me, you whore.”

scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.

he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,

finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.

scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.

“oh fuck, you felt so good..”

you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.

“scara..?”

scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.

“what is it?”

“can we do things like this… more often?..”

scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.

“hmm.. sure.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #smut #genshin headcanons #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scara #scara x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #staycait

[moonhoures]

piano lessons

pairing: jay (enhypen) + reader (fem.)

genre: non-idol!au, (kind of?) college!au, fluff, meet cute

warnings: none!

word count: ~2.3K

synopsis: working at a music shop has its perks, like meeting cute boys who can play guitars 🤭🎸

a/n: my first fic back!! woohoo!! i hope you guys like this, i only read through it twice, so there might be some proofreading mistakes. please forgive me 😇 enjoy! 🫶🏻

a/n: for reference, this fic is heavily inspired by these tiktoks [ tiktok #1 & tiktok #2 ] and [ this ] is the song jay is playing 👍🏻

posted: july 13, 2023

Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were usually the slowest days at your job. You worked at the local music retail shop, spending most of your shifts just cashing people out, organizing instruments and equipment, or re-alphabetizing the store’s music catalog. It didn’t pay that well, but it was enough to keep you busy and get you through college.

On most days it was fine; the only real downside being dealing with older people who didn’t understand some logistics of the instruments or the younger know-it-alls that tried to mansplain the equipment you sold daily. Another downside was having to listen to people tune the instruments to their liking and/or play them awkwardly in the middle of the store.

You understood why they did it; they just want to get a feel for the instruments they want to buy. But most people either were beginners who played awfully or intermediate players who didn’t play nearly as good as they thought they did. After almost a year of working at your location, you had gotten used to the sound of the store’s center speakers being hooked up to various instruments while people tested out the sound quality or other logistics of their instruments. Today was no different.

You were in the middle of organizing some invoices at the register on a late, gloomy Tuesday afternoon in the middle of September. The faint buzz of the center speakers humming to life on the other side of the store caught your attention, but you went back to focusing on your task at hand. There was only a handful of people in the store at the moment, so it was pretty quiet aside from the very soft jazz music emitting from the speakers in the corners of the store.

After a moment of peace, the center speakers crackled. You prepared to be annoyed for the next five to ten minutes by some young kid about to play some Nirvana riff very amateurishly. However, you were surprised when the opposite happened. A single, short, sweet strum on an electric guitar rang through the shop. It wasn’t obnoxiously loud, just enough so that you could hear it from across the room. You didn’t recognize the melody that soon followed, but it was pleasant to your ears.

It was a very relaxed, R&B sound. The sound was so calming. It fit perfectly with the gray clouds and drizzling rain outside the shop. Like a soundtrack to a movie scene. You decided you had to see who this talented musician was.

You picked up a vinyl that needed to be put back in that area, and decided to use that as your excuse to go be nosey. Throughout your walk there you noticed that the elderly couple you had seen earlier was now gone, leaving very few patrons left. There was one guy who seemed to be in his mid-40’s browsing through the CD collections. And there was a high school-aged girl looking through the magazines by the door. Other than that, it was just you and your mystery guitar player.

The soulful music continued to play, growing louder as you got closer to the source. You turned the corner of the shelf just behind the speakers that the music was coming from. Your eyes travelled up to see a boy about your age. You were getting a somewhat side profile of him, but he was admittedly very handsome.

He had black hair that looked soft and untouched by the rain from outside. Rimless glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. His jawline looked as though it was sculpted by an artist. He wore average-looking clothes—khaki pants, dark blue graphic t-shirt, unbuttoned denim shirt, and converse. One of his ears were covered by the chunky headphones he brought with him, presumably listening to the song he was trying to play. You found it odd that he wasn’t using sheet music, like most people did. Perhaps he played better by ear?

The sound of the bell above the door ringing made you jump, but it was only the high school girl leaving. You clutched the vinyl in your hand, remembering that that’s what you were supposed to be doing: finding it’s home. You turned to the shelf beside you, thumbing through the albums until you found the spot you needed. The albums thumped to one side as you slid the vinyl into place before they were pushed gently back together in harmony.

It seemed the song was coming to an end, so you stood in place as the boy wrapped up the tune he was playing so elegantly. When he finished, he started inspecting the tuning pegs on the guitar in his lap. Your feet were moving before your brain could stop them. The inside of your throat felt like it was closing, but you still somehow managed to speak.

Softly, you praised him, “That was amazing.”

Dread filled your body when he didn’t so much as even look at you. Nothing signaled that he heard you, so you cleared your throat and tried again. Only this time, you took another step closer to him.

“That was amazing,” you repeated a bit louder than before.

This time he heard you, his head whipping around as if you startled him. You quickly apologized, but he shook his head.

“No, you’re fine. I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I just said that was amazing, what you played. You’re really talented.”

“Oh,” maybe it was your imagination, but it looked like the lobe of his ear was turning red. His foot fidgeted on the bar at the bottom of the stool he sat on. The fluorescent lighting in the shop casted a white glare on the edge of his glasses when he looked at you, but you could still see his brown eyes clear as day, “Thanks.”

“Was it yours?”

“Was what mine?”

“The song,” you busied yourself by picking up the sheet music left behind by previous patrons of the day and putting them back in the folder where your boss kept them. He reached up and moved the headphones down from his ears to rest around his neck.

“No,” he shook his head, “It’s a Frank Ocean song. Have you heard of him?”

“I can’t say I have,” you confessed, “But it was a beautiful song. I’ll have to look it up later so I can get the full experience of it.”

“You should. The, uh, album that it’s from is great. It’s called Blonde,” he continued to twist and tune the pegs at the end of the guitar’s neck. His fingers were proficient and gentle; you assumed that was from years of skill crafting.

“How long have you played guitar for?”

“About 5 years?” his face expressed that he was trying to recall the moment he started.

“Wow, I figured you might be a prodigy or something. You sound like a seasoned player.”

Now his ears were definitely red; there was no way it was a trick of your mind. The same rosy color also looked like it was spreading across the apples of his cheeks. His lips twitched from holding back the bashful smile that wanted to appear. He adjusted himself on his seat, getting a better grip on the instrument in his lap, “Thank you, but I’m no prodigy. Do you play anything?”

“I took a few piano lessons when I was little,” you shrugged, fingertips mindlessly and quietly tapping on top of the speaker in front of you. An almost silent hum still thrummed from it, “But I don’t play much anymore.”

“Well, if you’d like some lessons in the near future, I know a guy who’d be willing to teach you for free,” he spoke as he stood from the stool and carefully placed the Paul Reed Smith guitar back on its stand a few feet away.

“For free? Is he doing volunteer work or something?” you teased, eyes accidentally meeting his as he returned to pick up his keys from the stand he left them on. The same stand that held the speaker you were previously tapping on. You wanted to look away, but his eyes almost held you in their gaze.

“No, but he doesn’t mind teaching pretty girls like you.”

Your breath hitched for a second, and heat rushed into your cheeks. Was he seriously hitting on you? More importantly, was it working? You had to avert your eyes.

“Oh,” you mentally kicked yourself when the shy smile took over your lips, “Does he live around here? I might consider, if he’s not too far.”

“He lives in college town actually. Are you familiar with it?” his keys made a jingling noise as he swiftly slipped them into the back pockets of his pants. You watched with a twinkle in your eye as he used the same hand to carelessly card his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, it’s not too far from me actually. Does this guy know Frank Ocean’s music too? I think I’d like to hear some of that on the piano,” you said, walking alongside him as he started to walk towards the front of the store. The rain was still coming down, barely. The droplets were sparse, but the gray clouds remained, just as dark and gloomy as ten minutes ago, “I like the R&B sound of it.”

“I’m sure he’d love to play some R&B music for you on his piano,” he smirked a little, secretly loving this back-and-forth with you. He didn’t want it to end, but he did have plans with his friends soon, “I think he knows one or two Frank Ocean songs.”

��That’s good. Well, this guy sounds decent. Do you have his number? I’ll have to send him a text to set up a piano lesson with him.”

He nodded, so you took the few steps over to the front desk, pulling a notepad and pen out from next to the register. You tore the top sheet off that had scribbles of invoice numbers and customer information. Then you handed the pad and pen to him, folding the torn paper in your hands as you watched him jot down the phone number for you. He handed it back, and you carefully tore that paper out too before slipping it into your pocket where your phone rested.

“Thanks,” you walked him to the door, only now realizing that you were the only two people left in the shop. Were you really that wrapped up in this boy to notice the older guy leaving? Did he really captivate you that much? You supposed he did.

He pushed the door open, stepping out onto the sidewalk, “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

Some little voice in the back of your mind let out a sigh, expressing its disappointment of his departure. Another voice in there exclaimed a reminder to you.

“Wait!” you called out, causing the dark-haired boy to turn back towards you. He was already yards away, but you could still tell the weather was starting to make his glasses fog up, “You never told me this guy’s name.”

He smiled again, “It’s Jay. Sorry.”

You nodded in understanding, and he stopped you before you could go back inside.

“What’s your name? I should probably let him know so he can expect your text,” he reasoned, his hands burying themselves in the pockets of his denim shirt. The heel of his converse scuffed the wet concrete as he shifted his foot nervously.

“_________.”

Now he was the one nodding, “Got it. I’ll tell him to look out for a text from ________, the pretty music shop girl.”

“Thanks a lot,” you waved him off, the smile on your lips refusing to leave even after the door closed behind you. Even after a glance out the door confirmed he was so far down the sidewalk that he was now out of sight. You hummed that melodic tune he played to yourself as you started to think of what tasks still needed to be done. You had the whole shop all to yourself, and there was still a couple hours left until closing.

You decided to hijack the store’s AUX, hooking up your phone. You went to your music player, typing in ‘Blonde’ and picking the first option that came up. You let the album play from the top, immediately nodding your head along to the beat that began to play. He has good music taste, you thought to yourself.

For the remainder of your shift, you enjoyed the music playing. The store had no more customers after he left, which made for a quick and easy closing. The rain was done by the time you were locking up, which you were thankful for. Once you got to your car, you pulled your phone from your pocket along with the written digits pressed against it.

You debated acting on your thoughts so soon, but decided to do so anyway. Your fingertips tapped against your keyboard swiftly, typing the phone number into the messaging app. The cursor blinked as you thought of what to say. It took a minute or two, but you finally sent a message you deemed good enough.

you: hi, is this jay? a friend of mine said you could give me free piano lessons, is that true?

jay: is this _______?

you: it is 😊

jay: well, i have some good news and bad news

you: okay…

jay: i can give you piano lessons, but they won’t be free

you: oh, okay. what’s your price, then?

jay: for first lessons, it’ll cost you one dinner date at any local restaurant of your choosing. is that within your budget?

you: i think i can make that work. is saturday okay with you?

jay: saturday is perfect, actually!

you: cool, i’ll update you when i decide what restaurant we’ll go to 👍🏻

jay: sounds good 😊 have a good night, _______

you: goodnight, jay 🌙

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a like, reblog, and/or a message in my inbox! i would love to hear your feedback! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

💌 taglist: @jaylaxies @boba-beom @bruh-changbin @bluesoobinnie

[ join my taglists here ]

#park jongseong #enhypen #enhypen jay #enhypen fluff #jongseong fluff #park jongseong fluff #enhypen fanfic #jongseong fanfic #jay fanfic #enhypen jay fanfic #enhypen imagines #jongseong imagines #enhypen jay fic #enhypen jay fluff #enhypen jay scenarios #enhypen scenarios #jongseong scenarios #enhypen jay x you #enhypen x reader #jay x reader

[willexmagic]

y’all ever think about the parallels of these two scenes?

in the bench scene they're sitting out in the public in the sunlight, happily talking to each other and facing each other bc they're more open to each other. there's some tension between them but only because they're strangers and their body language suggests that they want to get to know each other more. willie especially looks like he's in his element, with his hair down and his skateboard leaning against the bench, his posture slouching but not because of exhaustion, more because that’s how he sits comfortably. alex looks eager to continue the conversation, not at all anxious like he was before.

in the orpheum scene they're sitting in the dark in privacy (even though it doesn’t matter, because they’re both ghosts so they can’t be seen). they're both wearing hats/baggy clothing (alex's hat, willie's sweater covering his hands) as if they're trying to hide from themselves and each other, and they're not fully facing each other because there's that layer of tension between them as if they're now SCARED of opening up fully. not to mention that willie's hair is tied back, which is interesting bc he's more of a carefree, laid back person and so seeing his hair neatly taken care of is unusual and out of character. alex is clutching onto his drumsticks, all of the anxiety of dying back in full force. here we're in alex's element more than willie's, but this is pretty much where alex's hopes and dreams died and so he's terrified. and alex is also definitely slouching more, but this isn’t how he normally sits. he’s pretty much closing into himself (and so is willie, tbh)

and the major parallel of these scenes is that they’re both confronting death. in the first scene, willie’s talking about how being a ghost isn’t so bad, and it’s telling that it doesn’t freak willie out to be dead like it freaks alex out because dying isn’t a fear for willie. being zapped out by caleb isn't a fear for him. because he lives through death as he lived through life, carefree and happy.

in the second scene, they’re now talking about alex’s death, and the permanence of how once he’s zapped out, he’ll be gone. alex is so terrified because he wants to cling to things he cares about. he needs people like his family and friends and willie and he doesn't know what to do without that, and he’s not ready to face the next stage of his life alone, like willie is.

willie isn’t scared of his own death like alex is, because willie's death didn't change how he lived. alex's did, completely.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp meta #willie jatp #alex mercer #willex #text #mine #willie #alex #otp: i'd do anything for you #this is very awfully proofread so please forgive me #i kind of rambled on the discord for a solid five minutes and then copied this here and rambled for another solid five minutes

[bobohunn]

— summary : It was tough for you to trust and open up to people, after all you've been through. When you finally let your walls down, Chanyeol left you hanging. (part 1 of 2)

— pairings : chanyeol x reader

— genre : angst, fluff

— warnings : mentions of anxiety, alcohol, bullying, & gaslighting, hints of sexual assault & harassment, description of anxiety & panic attacks.

— word count : 3.9k words (part 1)

— author's words : hi!!! I'm not really good with titles so this goes untitled for now 😅 I'll add the title when I post the 2nd part 💛 this is not proofread and edited yet pls forgive me. I'd really appreciate it if you tell me your thoughts on this! ☺️

It was a year ago today. The day when you were supposed to wake up with a smile, hearing your family’s thumping steps on the wooden floor on the way to your room. The day when your younger sister was supposed to be running towards you to attack you with kisses, your mom holding out a cake that says ‘happy birthday’, and your father following closely behind them, singing the happy birthday song with his awfully hoarse morning voice, just like the annual tradition. Rather, you woke up to the loud and thunderous knocks on your bedroom door, along with what you recognized as your father’s voice. And the second you turned the lock on the knob, the door flew and a hand met your right cheek.

You were scared, but you weren’t sure what you were scared for. Sure your dad looked scary, his face was blood red, his breathing uneven, and his hands clenched into fists, but you didn’t know what he was acting scary for. You held your cheek, trying to ease up the stinging sensation that lingered. 

“D-dad?”, you managed to stutter out. Your father shut his eyes close and sighed. 

You looked away and noticed your mom and your sister on the wooden staircase behind your dad. Your mom was holding her face in her hands, and your sister was rubbing her back. Only then did you realize that they were both crying.

“M-mom? S-stacy? W-what’s going o-on?”, you choked out, feeling the hot tears that were running down your face.

It was silent again, and you hated it. The silence was deafening and you swore you almost heard the cells in your brain die. You always hated situations like this, it made you feel so anxious and you were about to throw up.

“D-dad, M-mom what’s happening w-why are y–”

“You don’t have to call me dad anymore,” your dad cut you off, and you heard your mom cry louder.

“D-dad w-will you please at least t-tell me what’s going on?”, you said in between sobs, “please?”

Your dad let out another loud sigh, and you noticed his eyes getting misty. “Stacy, give me your phone. Your sister wants to know why, so I’ll show her why”, he said in a firm tone.

Stacy stood up from the stairs and took out the phone from her pocket. She handed it over to your dad, avoiding his gaze including yours. You were practically begging for her to look at you with your eyes while your dad was fumbling with the gadget, but she stood behind him, staring at the floor with her hair covering her face.

Your father handed to you the phone, showing a paused video on the screen. You pressed play, and turned the volume up. You were puzzled to say the least. The video had poor lighting but when the light source hit the surface of a very familiar face in the frame, you dropped the phone, leaving a small crack on the lower left part of the screen.

Your brain tried to put the pieces of information it recently gathered together, but you were about to pass out. Unconsciously shaking, you stumbled on your feet, and dropped to the floor. That was the last thing you remembered before your sight blacked out.

Your life today is a little bit different to how it was a year ago, yet it was still sort of the same. You moved to a different town, a different school, a different environment. It isn’t much worse now, but some people would still look at you and gossip as you pass by the same. Others don’t even stab you in the back, they hit you in the front now.

You moved with your family in the hopes of forgetting everything and starting anew, but unfortunately the news reached your new home too. Your parents insisted that you move places again when people in your school started talking, but you hated the feeling of being an inconvenience. So you did your best to heal and learn how to not a give a fuck to what others say, even if it burnt you out on most days.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be alright, they’re not hurting me anyway,” you said in the softest voice.

“Are you sure? We can just move out of the country, baby. It’s best that we just go, hmm?” she held your hands in one, and caressed your face in the other.

“Yeah. We should just move if you’re uncomfortable here, my love,” your dad added as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Then we’d have to spend money again. I know you guys had a hard time adjusting as well, especially Stacy,” you fumbled with the fabric of your shorts, “I’m okay, really.”

But even though you’ve learnt to not give a shit and shrug off what bullshit other people— who don’t even know you, by the way— say anymore over the past months, there are still times when you have to endure how painful the words you overhear from conversations of people in your school are. And when you couldn’t, you’d have to run back to your only safe place in school, the comfort room at the back of the school library to turn into a ball and cry. On some days when you think you’re all better and don’t give a fuck anymore, you hear words you tried so hard to delete from your system, and it makes you want to throw up again.

You hate whoever did this to you. However, over the process of healing, you realized that you hate those people who try to act nice in front of you, act like they care for you, act like they support you, but actually talk rotten behind you more. And you hate people who try to control you into thinking that you are the one to blame, the most, because there are times that their words sting too much you begin to doubt yourself again after trying so hard to convince yourself that you were never at fault.

xx

It’s the first day of the semestral break, and you couldn’t be more happy and relieved to be far from society. You don’t have to do anything but lie down in your comfy bed, and binge watch your favorite shows all day. You can read books you hoarded in the past but never really touched after, as well!

“Y/N! Stacy! Come here, give these apples to our new neighbors!” your mom shouted from the kitchen.

You and your sister, Stacy peeked out of your bedrooms at the same time, and when your eyes met you both sighed. 

“I was watching Stranger Things, I was in the good part!”, you whined.

“I was reading a good fic on Tumblr as well! I was in the climax of the story!”, Stacy stomped her feet playfully and you both giggled.

“Y/N! Stacy! Did you hear me?” your Mom shouted again, which made you and Stacy instinctively run down the stairs.

xx

“Good afternoon Mister– uhmm?”, Stacy said to the man sitting on the balcony outside the house your mom sent you to for a quick mission.

“Park. Mr. Park,” the grown man smiled.

“Oh, nice to meet you Mr. Park! We’re from the house next to yours. We heard you just moved in, so my mom wanted you to have this!” Stacy beamed at him, while you stood behind her quietly.

“Oh I see! What are your names? You should come in! We had a feast for lunch, you should help us finish the food!” Mr. Park said while turning the knob of the front door.

“I’m Stacy, this is my older sister Y/n. My mom’s name is Rachel, and my dad’s is Samuel”, she said as she took off her sneakers.

“How old are you guys? I have a son who’s in the 11th grade, and a daughter who’s gonna be in her 2nd year in university.”

“I’m in 11th grade as well, Stacy is in 9th. We’re in Jungwon Highschool”, you said as you took off your jacket

“You should meet my son then! He’s transferring to Jungwon! But he’s not here now, he took the dog out on a walk in the park”, he said while grabbing plates from the kitchen.

After eating a few sweet fruits, you and your sister headed back home with two full plates of side dishes Mr. Park’s family offered. You passed by a tall unfamiliar guy carrying a black dog on the way back, and you figured maybe he was Mr. Park’s son.

xx

It’s the first day of the spring semester, the weather's been really better the past few days and you couldn’t be any happier because it means you don’t have to wear a heavy coat to school anymore.

While walking to the bus stop, you saw a familiar guy crouching down to pet a kitten.

Cute

He picked the cat up and moved it to a spot away from the pavement onto the bushes, probably for its safety. The moment he turned to your direction, you realized he was the same guy who you passed by once, on the way home from your new neighbor’s house. He was wearing the same uniform as you, and there you confirmed he really was the Parks’ son.

The bell rang and your class adviser went into the classroom. He was with the same guy you encountered earlier, announcing that your class has a new student to welcome.

“My name is Park Chanyeol. Please take care of me”, the guy said as he smiled and bowed down. He took the empty seat in front of you and settled down.

xx

“Pass your quizlets to the president after lunch. Late submissions will have deductions. Is that clear, class?” the 4th period teacher announced as she walked out the room.

The chime rang on the school speakers, and the lunch break started. All your classmates darted out the room, while you stayed in your seat, resting your head on the desk to take a nap like usual. Except, this time you aren’t left alone in the room. Chanyeol stayed, seemingly finishing the quizlet the teacher gave.

“Excuse me, can I borrow your eraser?” He asked, knocking on your desk to get your attention.

“Ah, sure. Here,” you pass him the black piece of soft rubber from your pencil case.

“Didn’t know they sell black ones. I should get myself one like this too. I actually hate when the white ones get dirty,” he rambled on while erasing whatever he had to erase and gave it back to you. You nod sheepishly as a response.

“I’m Chanyeol. What’s your name?” he pursed his lips while waiting for you to answer.

“I’m y/n. I actually live next to you,” you smile, scratching your nape.

Chanyeol was saying something but you weren’t really listening. Not when you heard some girls at the back door say, “what is she doing? Is she flirting with him?” “I seriously can’t believe her, after all that happened to her she has the guts to flirt with boys again?” “Maybe she thinks she can bait the new guy because he’s clueless” “and attractive, too”

You just smiled at him, and rested your head back down again, wearing earphones this time to block out whatever conversations you didn’t have to hear.

xx

You were sitting on the bench outside your go-to place, the comfort room at the back of the school library, watching whatever random videos youtube recommended in the home section. A video of a band doing a cover of some other band’s song came up, and you suddenly heard someone clear their throat from behind you which made you jump a little bit from your seat.

“So, are you into bands?” Chanyeol asked as he sat beside you on the bench.

If you were to be really honest, you grew scared of meeting people through the past year. You really hate it when people bring up things which they are not in the place to talk about. You’d tell them if you wanted them to know, and if you wouldn’t then they just have to accept and respect it, not be a total nosy ass. And unfortunately, everyone who tried to talk to you in this school brought up things you wished they didn’t. It made you feel like they’re only talking to you to know the tea. So you shut them out immediately, afraid to be hurt by them again if you get attached to them.

Which is why you struggled to let out a response to Chanyeol’s curiosity.

Why does he want to know about that? What will he do with that information? What if he uses it against me in the future? I should be careful with what I say, I might give out too much information.

All sorts of thoughts, running in your mind right now.

“Are you okay?” he asked when he realized you were only staring with a surprised expression at him, “is something wrong?”

“U-uhm, yeah. And, n-no. I’m s-sorry,” you looked away, keeping your phone in your pocket.

Chanyeol chuckled, “why are you getting flustered? I don’t bite!”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” you purse your lips.

“You’re a shy one, aren’t you? Don’t worry! I’m good at making people open up to me” he said as he placed an arm around your shoulder, to which you flinched at.

And Chanyeol was right, he was good at making people open up to him indeed. He made you feel at ease with his jokes, but more than that, you felt safe at how he doesn’t pressure you to talk about yourself, he just waits for you to willingly share things with him. He just keeps on going on and on about what he wants to say, but he listens attentively the second you open your lips to talk.

"Oh how I love animals so much! I have a dog, his name is Toben but he doesn't listen to me. So i kinda hate him" he said enthusiastically.

"I think I've seen you once with him, the black one?" you recalled.

"Yes that's him! I used to have a cat too but he ran away from home. His name was Bach"

"I actually have a hamster. Her name is Lilie. You should meet her she's a total fluff ball" you said as you took your phone out and show him a picture of your syrian hamster.

"Oh my god she's so cute!" his eyes grew wider than it originally is.

You chuckled, "You must really like pets that much."

"Oh trust me, I even brought a rat home. My mom scolded me so much," and it's you who has wide eyes now.

You grew close to Chanyeol in a span of a few days. You would walk to school and walk home together with him almost everyday. You learned a lot of things about him, while he was also able to slowly make you open up to him. The both of you would ramble about random things while doing homework or eating dinner at each other’s house, but he never crossed the borderline and asked you about your past. You couldn’t be more grateful that you found a friend like him. It’s the bare minimum, but it’s important to you and no one really does it like that anymore, not for you at least.

“What’s the square root of 441?” He asked, biting the tip of the pen he was holding.

“21, I think? Let me check,” you said as you took out the calculator in your backpack.

“It’s okay I got it aaaand— Wow! You’re right!” He jumped out of his seat and ruffled his fluffy brown hair in amusement. You chuckled and took a sip from the tea his mom made for you.

“You’re amazing, how do you know that? Did you just mentally solve that?” He sat back down again.

“Of course not. I liked maths so much as a kid, I memorized the perfect squares at some point.” you mumbled, redirecting your focus back to the homework in front of you.

“In many years of living, I never once met someone who memorized perfect squares” Chanyeol said as he held his face in his big hands.

“Now you did”

He chuckled, “Yeah, memorable. Anyway, are you free this friday?”

You bit your lip in sudden anxiety, “I-i don’t know. N-not sure. Why?”

“Some of our classmates are going to a party, and they invited me,” he hesitated a little before he continued, “I just wondered if you wanted to come? With me?”

You feel your heart beat faster, “No, sorry. I think I’ll be helping my dad on Friday.”

“Oh it’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” whispered Chanyeol, looking back down to his homework.

Friday came, and you thought it was weird to walk home alone for the first time. You got used to chatting with Chanyeol while on the way home, and now it was completely silent. When you got home, you threw yourself to your bed. You decided to get your laptop and binge watch another series on netflix.

It was around 7:30 pm when your phone rang. You looked at the caller ID and picked up hesitantly when you realized it was Chanyeol’s. “Why would he call so suddenly though?” you whispered to yourself.

“Chanyeol?” You said as you bring the phone up to your ear.

“hey Y/N! What’s up?” he chirped weirdly, probably drunk.

“Nothing much. Are you drunk?”

“I’m wasted. They tricked me, they said it was juice. They tricked me, y/n!” you cringed at how much he was slurring his words. It was obvious that alcohol was already in control of his system.

“How are you gonna get home?”

“I don’t know. Everyone is drunk here and–” he hiccuped, “they’re all nasty. I wanna go home”

You paused for a bit, checking the time on your laptop. “Turn on your location and stay there. I’ll pick you up”

Chanyeol nodded and hummed from the other line. You quickly ended the call to run to your closet to grab a jacket, and leave the house.

You didn’t know if you were dumb or stupid, but you were sure you were either. 

Why would you suggest picking him up? From a house party? Which you avoided so much with all your might?

When you reached the house that showed up on Chanyeol’s location— which took you 30 minutes to find, you had to pat yourself on your shoulders and remind yourself that you were doing it for a friend, and if you were just gonna walk away, this friend might get in trouble. You inhaled deeply before entering, a pool of evidently alcohol intoxicated bodies welcoming you.

It took you only a few seconds to spot Chanyeol, the only giant in the room. But it took you a few minutes to get to him because as he said, the crowd was pretty nasty.

“Alright time to go home now big buddy, let’s go” you tapped Chanyeol on his forearms, bracing yourself in case he’d stumble and fall.

“Goodbye my friends!” Chanyeol screamed over the booming music from the speakers. “You’re leaving already?” a familiar voice replied, and you realized it was one of your classmates, Max.

You only nodded at him after flashing a small smile. “Are you seriously going Chan? It’s too early! We haven’t been to the fun part yet!” Max said before taking a sip of whatever alcohol from his red cup.

“What fun part? I think I’m just gonna go home, Max” Chanyeol replied, seemingly sobering up a little.

“Oh you know, the fun part! When all the chics get wasted!” your mind was getting hazy at what you heard, and you nearly lost your balance. Your grip on Chanyeol’s sweater got tighter, which made him look at you.

But he didn’t answer Max, instead he turned away. You took that as a signal to go. “Yeol, the door is this way” you told him as you tug on the sleeve of his sweater.

The walk back home was messy. Chanyeol was silent but he was walking in zig zags and you had to hold him up a couple of times because he would fall asleep while walking.

“Y/n?” you hummed in response.

“Nevermind” he replied. Honestly you were nervous, what did he want to say? Is something wrong? But you only let it go.

“Y/n.”

“Yes Yeol?”

He stopped walking, “Why don’t you ever tell me anything about you?”

“What do you m-mean? I tell you about myself too,” you managed to mumble out.

“No, you don't,” he said in a tone an octave lower.

You held onto his arm again and dragged him with you, “Yeol, you’re drunk let’s go now.” He allowed you to pull him and just walked along, still in zig zags.

When you were in front of his house you took your phone out to call his sister, to help you get him in. You helped him sit down on the chair outside while waiting for her to pick up.

“Y/n, you know I’m not one to pry, right?”

You looked at him in confusion, you slowly nodded. You waited for him to continue.

“But I really have to ask this,” he said as he played with the zipper of his backpack in his hands, not looking at you.

“What is it?” you shivered.

“By any chance, were you from Hyundai Highschool?” he finally looked at you, straight in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to do or what to feel. He was sober now, and you could tell he knew what he was talking about. Many questions were popping in your mind, yet your brain felt empty.  You weren’t able to form anything to say. You only backed away from him, and then ran away.

You went straight to your room, ignoring your father’s attempt to hug you. You fell to the floor the moment you closed the door.

Why did he ask you that?

How did he find out?

Were people talking about you at the party?

Did someone gaslight you at the party, again?

Will he judge you too?

You spent the whole weekend locking yourself up in your room, overthinking about the same things over and over again. You were almost sure someone told him from the party, and he will probably think differently about you now. But you are honestly hoping that he wouldn’t. He’s a good guy, isn’t he? 

Monday came, and you were mentally preparing yourself to talk to Chanyeol while preparing your lunch box. You made sure to go out earlier than usual to wait for him so you could walk to school together, but to no avail. There was no sign of your giant friend going out of the house next to yours. You had to run to school or you would be late for the first period.

When you reached the classroom you looked around but Chanyeol wasn’t there. You caught your breath and sat down quietly on your seat. There was barely 2 minutes left before the first period, and you were worried for Chanyeol.

“Hey Y/n, where’s Chanyeol? You didn’t come together?” one of your classmates asked. You shook your head no, but suddenly the back door opened.

There he is

He took his seat in front of you but he didn’t spare you a smile, not even a glance.

The whole day went by with Chanyeol avoiding you and ignoring your attempts to talk to him. He looked at you at some point, but with sad eyes and a small smile. After that, you decided to give up and let him be.

You know—you think you do, why he was acting that way, and you don’t blame him for it. But you at least need to hear it from him, rather than assume things which could be entirely wrong. 

You didn’t expect him to pull you to the school garden at dismissal, though.

“Y/n. I know I’ve been such a horrible friend today,” he paused. He looked down, avoiding your eyes.

“but I don’t think we should be friends.”

#park chanyeol #chanyeol #exo #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fics #chanyeol imagines #chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol au #chanyeol x reader #exo fluff #exo au #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop au #student chanyeol #chanyeol fanfic #pcy au #pcy fluff #pcy angst #pcy #xiumin #suho #lay #baekhyun #chen #d.o #kai #sehun

[gore-hovnd]

Don’t Breathe: Part Two

As per request of @hydra-trash-spot

Warning For: Toxic/Controlling Relationship, Emotional/Physical Abuse

(Also, side note, I’m literally incapable of proofreading unless things are in post format so please excuse my typos pff)

(Side Note pt 2, electric boogaloo; I edited it and now it’s not as BAD. Idk if this is gonna retag but if it does I’m SORRY, bc I’m awful and I’ve been fixing the formatting smh)

Sweat droplets rolled between his shoulders in a way that made his skin crawl as he shifted in his seat. Staring blankly at the paperwork in his hand, Jack began to read the paragraph at the top of the page for the fifth time. 

Of course there was maintenance happening on the building’s AC unit, of course today was the hottest day of the week, and of course Brock felt the need fuck him over in more ways than one by not letting him call off work for that day. When he looked at it from Brock’s standpoint as a commander, Jack understood why. The STRIKE team had an urgent mission come up, they would be leaving for it in three days, and they needed everyone to be ready. But when he looked at it from Brock’s standpoint as his boyfriend, Jack knew it was just Brock being the biggest dick imaginable at that point. It hadn’t been enough to drag him around the house in a dog collar that left dark, saturated bruises in its wake and made speaking a chore. It wasn’t enough to humiliate him by claiming that the bruising across Jack’s nose and beneath is eyes was from him coming into unfortunate contact with the shower rod the night before. And it wasn’t enough to make Jack come to work in a heavy jacket, zipped all the way up, in ninety degree weather to hide the bruises over his throat. Because nothing was ever enough and despite trying to stay out of Brock’s line of sight all day, Jack knew he’d always be Brock’s primary target.

“I need you to pick up training with Cap today.” Brock stated plainly while JAck shared a lunch that only one of them ate. 

Jack recoiled, looking up from the slowly cooling chicken pasta in front of him. He’d only gotten three bites in before he decided that it hurt too much to swallow. 

“Why?” Jack grumbled, his voice low and weak from both the abuse to his vocal cords as well as disuse. He hadn’t said a word to Brock all day, the anger in him once again rising, bashing against the cage of his resolve like a wild beast trying to break free. 

“‘Cause Pierce called me about havin’ another meeting this morning. I don’t got a choice here, Jackie, I already told the big guy you’d be there.” Brock explained as he scrolled through his emails at his computer. 

“Why not jus’ fuckn’ reschedule.” Jack grumbled under his breath, rising from his seat and throwing his lunch into the bin by Brock’s desk with more force than necessary. The combination of the action and his attitude had Brock looking up from his work, staring at Jack with an irritated look despite the upward turn of his lip. 

“What was that, mouth?” He asked and Jack hesitated for a second. He could challenge it, could try to put Brock in his place, but the lingering threat of the previous night’s events bred an unfamiliar fear in his chest and he pulled his gaze away. 

“Nothin’.” He mumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets before making his escape. 

***

Jack sat in the gym for twenty minutes waiting for Steve. 

And in that twenty minutes he contemplated what the hell had just happened. He’d never been afraid of Brock before. Upset? Yes. Wary? Of course. Angry? Abso-fucking-lutely, but afraid? Never. And whatever was causing that fear to fester in his chest was making him sick. 

The doors to the gym opened and Jack broke from his thoughts, staring up to meet the bright, happy smile on Steve’s face that oh-so-awfully contrasted from his own bitter mood in a way that was borderline annoying. 

“Been a while,” Steve chuckled, offering his hand to help Jack get up from his place on the floor. He took it, pulling himself up and suppressing a hiss of pain as his body ached. That brief tumble down the stairs last night must’ve taken more out of him that he originally thought. 

As the two of them readied themselves; stretching, wrapping their hands, and ultimately building dread in Jack’s stomach, he couldn’t help but lose himself again. 

“Are you gonna wear that the whole time?” Steve piped up, pulling Jack back to reality for the third time in the past hour. 

“What?” He asked, forcing his shoulder to stretch despite the strain of his muscle. 

“That jacket.” Steve elaborated, gesturing at him to emphasize. 

Jack glanced down at it, somehow momentarily forgetting he had it on, before shrugging with a nod. 

“Yeah.” 

That was all he chose to say before the two of them stepped into the ring. There he stood: in a jacket, white basketball shorts, and black athletic ankle supports, staring at Steve who wore something similar, just with a tank top instead. 

The two of them sparred for a bit and from the very beginning, Jack knew it wasn’t going to end well for him. The soreness that blanketed him only seemed to get heavier the longer he tried to force his body to move. It slowed his reactions, made it impossible to keep up with the living god that was Steve Rogers. Jack didn’t think he could take goddamn Captain America down even on a good day so trying to on a day where all of his muscles were simultaneously on fire definitely wasn’t going to work in his favor. 

And try as he might, one particularly well timed hit to his ribs had him on the floor. When he looked at the clock, he’d found that they’d been at it for a solid forty-five minutes and Jack was almost impressed with himself. That is until Steve fussed over him like a damn mother hen. 

“Shit, Rollins are you alright?” Steve asked, dropping to his knees to seemingly try and get a closer look at Jack who, in turn, waved him off as he spit his mouthguard out onto the floor. 

“M’ fine,” Jack wheezed unconvincingly as he pushed himself up with one arm, the other wrapped securely around his chest. Steve didn’t seem convinced, deciding to go for the jacket which had Jack pulling away reflexively. 

Steve paused, staring at him for a moment before he pulled the collar of the jacket down and all Jack could do was look up to avoid seeing the concerned look on Steve’s face. He let Steve unzip the jacket and pull it from his shoulders, getting a closer look. Even the gentle grazes of Steve’s fingers over the bruises on his neck had him flinching, less from actually feeling any pain and more from expecting it. What the hell had Brock done to him? And to think, for a few delusional hours, he thought he was lucky to have that man. 

“What happened to you?” Steve asked but Jack didn’t answer, responding by shrugging the jacket back over his shoulders and forcing himself to stand despite how much his body protested. “Did someone try to kill you?” 

For a single, cursory moment, Jack paused while his brain took time to do a hard reset. The suggestion felt so ridiculous that he wasn’t sure what else to do but play along with it. So he shrugged and watched as Steve shook his head in disbelief. 

“Did you file a report?” He asked and Jack released a bitter laugh. 

“What? Hell no.” He snorted. He knew that Steve’s mind was somewhere else entirely but he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like trying to file a report against Brock. He’d be killed, likely. Pierce already hated their relationship, said it was a “conflict of interest.” Jack thought it was asinine at first but now he was beginning to think Pierce, slimy bastard that he was, was right. 

“You need to, this is important!” Steve demanded. Jack wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to react and instead just shrugged it off with a quiet ‘s’ fine.’ only to earn himself a frustrated sigh from Steve. 

“It’s not fine, it’s dangerous! You know what we do, it’s...our line of work isn’t exactly a forgiving one.” Steve huffed. ‘Tell me about it,’ Jack’s thoughts chimed as he shook his head, staring at Steve with a tired look. 

“I gotta get back to work. STRIKE team ships out in three days, be ready.” His voice was monotonous and bland as he turned to head back toward the locker rooms. That’s when Steve grabbed his arm and a rush of adrenaline tore through his body with the force of a fire hose as he turned to throw a punch that Steve quickly dodged, releasing him in the process. Jack didn’t know when he started trembling but now that he noticed, he couldn’t calm his nerves. The sad look that Steve gave him did nothing more than ignite an angry fire within him and suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the feeling that he wanted to fight again. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, I can help you.” Steve offered, taking a step forward and offering a gentle hand, only to have Jack grab hold of his wrist with an unnecessarily intense grip. 

“Ever stop to think I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Rogers?” Jack growled. “Ever stop to think I might just need your head outta’ my ass?” 

With a grimace, Jack shoved Steve back and turned without a second thought, zipping his jacket up as he retreated to lick at the wounds rubbed raw by Steve’s pity. 

***

Going through a week long mission with Steve, while simultaneously trying to hide the bruises Brock gave him, had been absolute hell. So it was understandable that all Jack wanted to do when he got home was sleep. Unfortunately for him, all Brock wanted to do was fuck. 

“I’m serious, no.” Jack growled, pushing Brock’s hand from his hip only for that same imposing hand to latch right back on. 

“Oh, c’mon, Jackie, I need you inside me.” Brock purred, licking at Jack’s throat. By then, the bruises had become a sickly yellow and were faint enough for Jack to stop wearing hoodies and jackets to hide them. The rest of his body healed accordingly and things could go back to being relatively normal, something Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted. Because Brock made him hate normal. 

“I said I don’t want to.” Jack said more firmly this time, finally managing to shove Brock back on his haunches. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Jack held Brock’s glare before his commander finally scoffed and stood up from their bed with a huff. 

“You know, you seriously make me wanna fuckin’ hit you sometimes.” Brock growled as he left the room, undoubtedly planning to sleep on the couch. He always slept on the couch when he was sick of looking at Jack, when seeing Jack made him angry. He knew this, he knew Brock got mad when he said no, knew that Brock didn’t like it when he refused anything, especially sex, and knew that Brock wanted to hurt him because of it. But Brock had never actually said it aloud before. And for whatever reason, actually hearing it was unsettling. 

He didn’t sleep well that night and when he woke up the next morning, he found that Brock had seemingly dropped the entire thing. He was bad about that, about ignoring any sort of argument they had, but Jack didn’t really have any other choice but to deal with it. 

Over time, Brock got worse. Just as he always had. After a while his threats stopped being threats and he stopped warning Jack all together. Sometimes Jack could anticipate it but most of the time, it felt entirely random. Brock would smack him in the back of his head, shove him around, punch him, even, if he was in a particularly bad mood. And Jack was at a loss. 

There was a war waged in Jack’s mind, his emotions tumbling between hating Brock and adoring him. Brock was a terrible man; he was violent and volatile and fear had become a familiar friend to Jack in the months that had passed since the choke chain incident. But every few days, he would be gentle and kind and he’d make Jack feel like nothing short of a god. And for those few, fleeting hours, Jack was on cloud nine. 

But the good times never seem to last and eventually he was sick of making up excuses to stay. 

“Come on, Jack, yer gonna leave over that? Over a love tap?” Brock growled as he followed Jack through their home. 

“Does it matter?” Jack grumbled, shoving some of his clothes into an old backpack. “I’m a grown man, I can leave if I want to.” 

This response, however, wasn’t good enough. Brock’s hand was almost instantly around his arm and Jack recoiled, throwing his elbow back and landing a hit across Brock’s mouth, effectively bloodying his lip. 

“Sonuva-” Brock barked, staggering back when Jack landed another hit on his face. Spitting a mixture of blood and spit out onto the dark carpet, Brock wiped a hand across his chin before glaring at Jack, who was frozen. Multiple thoughts raced through his mind in that moment and somehow he was both proud of and angry with himself. But both of those were overshadowed by the terror that crashed through him like a startling rush of electricity when Brock advanced on him. 

The two of them fumbled around for awhile, battering and bruising each other until eventually, Brock got his hands around the back of Jack’s head pulled, bringing his knee up to collide with Jack’s nose. 

A sickening crunch filled the air and the two of them paused as Jack covered his face, panting while he tried to gather himself. Sitting down on their bed, leaving a bloody handprint on their white comforter, Jack tried to sniff but he couldn’t. Blood dripped down his mouth the same way it had months prior when Brock had pulled him off of the couch and all he could do was wonder to himself why he was stupid enough to stay so long. 

“Let’s go.” Brock growled under his breath, taking hold of Jack’s bicep and forcing him to stand like he was a child. Jack shrugged him off, even going so far as to shove him away, before the two of them trudged out to their car. 

The ride to the hospital was silent and when they got there, Jack refused to explain how it happened. It wasn’t that he was trying to protect Brock, he was just so exhausted… He didn’t have the energy to make up excuses or answer any questions. 

Luckily, it only took fifteen minutes for a doctor to be made available for him. Unluckily, Brock followed him back into the room. And as if his broken nose wasn’t punishment enough, Brock continued to berate him. 

“You jus’ dunno when to quit do you?” Brock growled, his arms crossed over his chest. His lip was swollen, the gash that ran through it shining angry and red. Drops of blood stained the collar of his grey shirt and in that moment the two of them stared at each other with equally intense looks of pure hatred. 

“What?” Jack snapped, trying desperately to convince himself that Brock wasn’t worth a trip to prison. 

“You don’t know how to fuckin’ quit, Jack! You always do this! You piss me off, then gimme that pissy little look when I get mad! This shit wouldn’t happen if you didn’t get me so fucking riled up!” Brock barked and all Jack could do was laugh incredulously, disbelief filling him as he stared Brock in the eye. 

“No, this shit wouldn’t happen if you weren’t such a fucking psychopath.” Jack hissed and just like that, Brock was on him again. First, there was a knee to his ribs, then a fist under his jaw, but Jack wasn’t going to lay down and let Brock beat on him anymore. He’d finally decided that everything Brock did to him was complete and utter bullshit. It wasn’t warranted and he wasn’t ungrateful when he got upset about it. And for the love of God, he didn’t fucking deserve it.

So he fought back. He kicked and he growled and he fought with everything he had. Landed a few good hits too. At some point, the doctor must’ve come in to the two of them fighting and called security. They pried Brock off of Jack, his eye swollen shut and his lip re-busted-open. Jack grimaced, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him while he was restrained. But the security guards were too quick to get him out of the room.

The doctor didn’t ask Jack any questions, simply got him cleaned up, reset his nose, and offered him a phone to call someone. Jack accepted the offer with a grateful, albeit quiet, ‘thank you.’ And he sat for an hour contemplating whether or not he should do what he wanted to do. He didn’t really have much of a choice, though, did he?

“Hello?” Answered Steve’s familiar voice over the other line. 

“If I ask you to come pick me up from the hospital will you promise not to ask questions?” Jack asked. He never was good at easing into a conversation. 

“The hospital? What happened? Are you hurt?” Steve immediately started and all Jack could do was sigh and weigh what options he would have if he decided to hang up. 

“Steve, please.” He begged quietly. He wasn’t proud of the pleading tone in his voice but he couldn’t take it back. Couldn’t hide it. Not anymore.

Steve didn’t say anything for a long time. The quiet that fell over them was the kind that was deafening and suffocating at the same time and he wanted nothing more than to scream just to fill the space. But before he could, Steve started talking again. 

“I’ll be there.” He said softly. 

And he was. In twenty minutes, Steve was at the hospital and the second he saw Jack, it looked like his entire world had been crushed. An odd look of knowing crossed his face as he flicked his head and without a second thought, Jack followed.

After another wordless car ride, Jack found himself in a new place. The unfamiliar space of Steve’s apartment left him feeling vulnerable and exposed, like a rabbit in a field of rabid dogs. But Steve’s gentle hand guided him and it sickened him that his mind was already waiting for that softness to be replaced with anger and pain. But nothing happened and Jack scolded himself for thinking something would. 

They sat on the couch with the same silence that had hovered over them on the phone weighing tension on their shoulders and Jack once again felt the urge to make noise so it wouldn’t feel so heavy on his chest. But just as before, Steve came to the rescue to fill the silence before Jack had to. 

“I guess this is how Bucky always felt when he saw me all beat up.” Steve tried to chuckle and Jack couldn’t help the little snort that left him. 

“Guess so.” Jack grunted in response, sighing as he refused to meet Steve’s eye. It was then that an arm slowly wrapped around him and with cautious curiosity, Jack let it happen, willing himself not to flinch. He half expected other advances to be made but nothing ever came, and he liked it that way. 

Steve turned the T.V. on and for a while, Jack zoned out while late night sitcoms flashed on screen with mediocre, cheesy jokes filling the quiet with a comfortable drone. And eventually, as Jack grew too tired to ignore the exhaustion any longer, he rested his head on Steve’s shoulder and found a relieving sense of peace when Steve leaned on him too. 

And for the first time since he’d met Brock fucking Rumlow, he felt safe.

#mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #whump #whump prompt #fic sequel #dark fic #hydra trash party #tw: abuse #tw: toxic relationship #jack rollins #brock rumlow #crossbones #hydra husbands #rumrollins #beaufic

[e-vasong]

Really sad BIW question: if Izuku has never been sent to UA, what would happen to him? I mean, BIW Izuku isn't bad even tho he's a net asset to Vicious b/c he's a traumatized child who wants to protect Inko. But at 20, 25, 30, it's still sad but less and less justified... helping Vicious endangers lots of other people's moms... I can't believe Izuku would stay so long, though. He's Izuku. Would he break out successfully, or get rescued by Aizawa? (Please?) Or would Vicious catch on to him first?

Ahhhh! Christ, this is sad.    Let me see…I’m trying to think about how I would write this.

Well, I think Vicious sending Izuku to UA is part of a gradual escalation in responsibilities that he’s putting on Izuku.  So, should he not send Izuku to UA, he would likely escalate his expectations in the other direction–as in, he would expect more explicitly villainous behavior and be giving Izuku more obviously villainous jobs (rather than just data analysis and information acquisition, like Izuku primarily does now).

(This is going under a read more cause it got LONG.  Sorry for any wonky grammar/spelling/structure/etc.  It’s late, and I’m tired, and I didn’t proofread.)

It might even get to the point where Izuku would find himself utterly unable to get out of (directly) hurting people.  I don’t think he’d kill anyone–I don’t think Izuku would ever let Vicious push him that far.  I don’t even think he’d let himself hurt anyone in a permanent manner.  But I could see Vicious backing him into a corner where he has no other option and where it’s the best that he can do–even though it’s not good enough, even though he’ll never forgive himself for it.

And in a world where Izuku never gets any outside intervention, I imagine Izuku truly climbing his way up through the ranks, to the point where he’s Vicious’s most trusted lieutenant, not Victoria or Masami or Hisashi.  Because though they’ve been with Vicious longer, Vicious didn’t shape them.  They are his allies, but Izuku is his success story.  His student.  His protege.

Of course, the thing about students is that sooner or later, they surpass their mentors.  Izuku sets it up carefully, of course.  He makes sure that Vicious will never see it coming.  He doesn’t distribute the information all to one source.  Some of it goes to the cops.  Some to heroes.  To organized criminals.  To villains–petty and super alike.  He makes sure that there’s no way that any of the four will make it out.  

He’s not eight anymore.  He’s not fifteen.  He’s an adult–just barely perhaps, but an adult nonetheless.  He has his own connections now.  It’s amazing how easy it is to win debts of gratitude from powerful people.  Hack the right databases, transfer a nice amount of money, whatever.  Now, for the first time, he can pull some strings, can call in some favors, and make sure that his mother will be protected.  Or at least, he can make sure that she will be somewhere too inconvenient for Vicious to reach.

And by the time Vicious has realized, it’s too late.  Too much of his empire has been chipped away for him to retaliate against Inko.  And Izuku?  Izuku drops off the grid.

Vicious’ kingdom crumbles, and it takes its leaders along with it.

And as for Izuku, once the job is done, he lifts the protection from his mom, but he keeps track of her.  Makes sure that she’s safe.  Makes sure that he can call in another favor to keep her safe, should Vicious reach out, with whatever weak tendrils of influence he has left, through his prison bars.  

But he doesn’t go back to her.  The job’s not over yet.  He still believes in heroes.  Of course he does.  But he knows now, that it’s impossible for them to do everything.  It’s not their fault.  He doesn’t blame them for the fact that there will always be those out there, seeking to exploit the system.  Those who have figured out that heroes can’t protect against threats they don’t know are there.

But Izuku knows that they’re there.

He can’t go home yet.  Not after all this.  And he can’t become a hero.  Not after what he’s done.

But there are people who need protecting.  There are threats that only he can protect them against.

And as far as Izuku sees it, he has a hell of a lot to make up for.

(Cue vigilante AU)

(So, I guess this was actually, if I wrote it this way, there probably wouldn’t be much focus on the Vicious-years so much as the post-Vicious years where he’s vigilante-ing and he’s around 18-19 and trying to make up for what he’s done.  +Wacky hijinks with Class 1-A, who are in either their third year or their first year post graduation, and who are growing begrudgingly fond of this snarky vigilante who, despite breaking the law, is genuinely helpful to them.  +Aizawa being like !!! HEY ITS HIM!!! And promptly starting to subtly parent the fuck out of this new vigilante)

(I got super into this while writing it, and I’m super invested in it now, so I guess this is an official BIW AU that exists in my head now.  RIP.  That said, I probably couldn’t have written it this way since IDK personally if i would have been able to make Vicious/Masami/Victoria/Hisashi feel as awful and Bad without actually writing a whole fic on them.  Like, I’m not sure how confident I would have been in my ability to pull that off.  PLUS this treads awfully close to the demon!Izuku AU I’m working on now, where Izuku operates in a role that is very similar to vigilante.)

(That said, BIW!Izuku would make, I think, a really interesting vigilante to write since in the BIW verse, his vigilantism would have less to do with being disaffected with heroes/the hero system and more to do with trying to make up for years of wrongdoing the only way that he can, even if he pays for it in the end.)

(Actually, as much as I love vigilante!Izuku I haven’t read much for it yet, so IDK if that’s really a fresh take or anything, so sorry if I sound like a damn fool lmfao.  Wow though.  I’ve been talking for a long time.  What am I doing??  I’m so sorry)

#me @ me: SHUT UP!!!! #also me: I WANT TO TALK FOR TEN HOURS AND YOU CANT STOP ME #im so sorry yall #BIW vigilante AU #its a tag now #just in case #Bloom in Winter #asks

[phoenix--dxwn]

Love You The Same

Prompto Argentum X Reader

Request: Oh oh can I request some prompto x reader that starts angsty but ends fluffy because he is such a sweet sunshine child :D please feel free to start it however you want!

A/N: THERE ARE SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED THE GAME! SO PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. Also, I really hope you enjoy this story! I was thinking how to make it angsty and fluffy all at the same time so I hope I did it some justice. Prompto is a precious bean that needs to be protected so I really wanted to make this story special! He holds a special place in my heart. Also I literally just sat on my bed writing this for two or so HOURS SO IM SORRY I DIDN’T REALLY PROOFREAD AND I APOLOGIZE IF IT SUCKS AND DOESN’T MEET YOUR STANDARDS ANON!!!

The Introduction

You were walking with your friends, laughing as you turned a corner. You bumped into a blonde-haired man, noticing when hot liquid starting hitting your skin. You wince in pain and look down at your clothes, now stained in Ebony. You frown to yourself and sigh, looking at your friends.

“Go on ahead, I’m going to go home to clean up.” you mumble. You hear a gasp as you turn back around.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to spill Ebony all over you--” the man begins.

“It’s okay.” you reply rather quickly. “Don’t worry about it, alright?” you start to walk past him, but he grabs your arm before you can.

“Here, I’ll get you a new outfit or something so you don’t have to run all the way home. Please. It’s the least I could do.” he pleads. You look at him with suspicion, but he seems genuine.

You nod in agreement and follow him to the nearest shop.

“You can buy anything you want. Promise.” he says, the sincerity still in his voice.

“Thank you, that’s really kind of you. But it isn’t that big of a deal, so don’t worry too much, okay?” you say reassuringly.

“But it is!” he retorts. “I spilled a hot cup of Ebony all over a beautiful woman and that is unacceptable!”

You raise your eyebrow and fold your arms.

“Do you spill Ebony a lot on women then?” you ask.

He shakes his head rapidly and waves his hands back and forth.

“No! NO! It’s not like that! I’m just complimenting you… you turned around and I thought you were beautiful but I really am genuinely sorry and please I just forgive me I promise you won’t ever have to see me aga--”

“I’m kidding.” you chuckle and smile at him, laughing at how much his hair resembled a chocobo butt. “Don’t take me so seriously, Mr. Chocobo Butt Hair.” you begin to walk around the store, looking at all the clothing they had.

Prompto furrows his brows and catches up to you.

“Hey! My hair does NOT look like a chocobo butt!” he responds, quite hurt at the thought of his hair looking like the ass of a chocobo.

“Well I don’t know what else to call you.” you reply as you grab a few pieces of clothing, holding it up to your body while looking in the mirror.

“The name’s Prompto. Prompto Argentum.” he announced proudly. “Nice to meet ya.” he extends his hand out to you.

You shake it and give him a smile. “Nice to meet you Prompto, I’m (Y/N).”

He grins and nods.

“That sure is a beautiful name, (Y/N).” he follows you around as you finally figure out what you wanted to buy to change into. Prompto pays for it and waits for you to come out of the changing room. “You look great!” he exclaims as you exit from the changing area.

You blush and smile.

“Thank you, Prompto. I should get going. My friends are probably waiting for me.” you commented as you walk out of the store with him. “Thanks for getting me some new clothes. That was awfully kind of you. Maybe I’ll see you around.” you begin to walk away, only to be stopped by him once again.

“Wait. Before you go, do you think I could get your number…?” he asked nervously. He scratched the back of his head as he waited for your answer.

You giggle and nod, thinking to yourself how cute it was when he got nervous. When you first saw him, you thought he was some kind of playboy. But as you talked to him more, it seemed less evident that he was a playboy, and more evident that he was just a sweet cinnamon roll.

You took his phone and put in your number, handing it back to him when you were finished.

“Text me right now so I have your number.” He did as he was told and you saved his number into your phone. “I’ll be expecting to see you again then.” you smile and walk away, knowing very well that this could be the start of something grand.

As Prompto started walking home, he stopped. What if this thing with (Y/N) became something serious? Could he continue to keep the truth from you? He cursed under his breath, starting to plan out the future. The question was now whether or not it would catch up to him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

As he feared, his past was catching up to him. As the war with Niflheim continued, Prompto was getting more anxious about the whole situation regarding where he came from. He was always scared of telling people that he was born and bred in Niflheim as a test subject of sorts. Why wouldn’t he be afraid? He was living in Lucis, a city that was at war with Niflheim. He didn’t need any enemies.

Sure, he was best friends with Prince Noctis and his servants but… would they still be his friend if they knew the real him? He couldn’t shake the thoughts that rampaged through his head. He plopped down on his bed and sighed deeply to himself as he began to think of what might be coming on the journey ahead.

You open the door to the apartment and look when you notice Prompto isn’t in the kitchen like he normally is. You look around and put the groceries on the counter before calling out his name.

“Prompto? Are you home?” you ask loudly. You walk to the bedroom and see your boyfriend laying on the bed. “Hey babe, are you okay?” you ask silently as you lean against the door frame.

He leans up on his elbows and gives you a smile.

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?” he lied. He got up from the bed and walked over to you, giving you a light kiss. “Glad you’re finally home. I’m starving.” he says trying to change the subject.

You laugh a little, sensing that he’s trying to cover something up. But you know better than to question him and try to look for answers. You figure if something’s bothering him, he’ll tell you eventually. And if he doesn’t and it continues to bother him, then you’ll take action.

Prompto cheerfully walks into the kitchen and helps unpack the groceries you had set on the counter. You look at him suspiciously. He had been acting strange the past few days, and you weren’t quite sure why. When you asked Noctis about it, he couldn’t give you any answers either.

You begin to cook, wondering what on earth could be bothering him. Prompto was always a happy, go-getter type of guy. He had a wonderful sense of humor, which is why you fell for him in the first place. He was adorable… definitely different than all the other guys you’ve been with. His heart was pure… he never talked about his childhood much, but you that’s why he was such an amazing person.

As you plated the food, you sat across from him.

“I hope you like this, it’s a new recipe that Ignis gave me. I’m not sure if I did it any justice though… he’s a much better cook than I am.” you confessed.

Prompto looked at you with shock in his eyes.

“This. Is. DELICIOUS!” he exclaimed. He continued to stuff his face and you laughed at how much his cheeks looked like chipmunks.

After the both of you ate, he helped you clean up the dishes. You looked over at him slowly before speaking.

“Prompto… I know something’s bothering you… what is it? I’m worried… you’ve been acting strange for the past few days…” you began.

“Just leave it alone. Okay? I’m fine.” he barked. He tossed the towel back in the sink and walked away from you, leaving you alone in the apartment. You frowned and ran outside, seeing if you could catch up to him. To your dismay, he was already out of your sight.

You took your phone out and called Noctis, panic filling your body.

“Hello?”

“Noct? It’s (Y/N). Prompto just left and I don’t know where he is… I tried asking him about what was bugging him and he just got angry and walked out the door… if you see him please make sure he’s okay...:”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll keep my eyes out for him. I’ll let Iggy and Gladio know too. We’re leaving tomorrow, so he shouldn’t have gone too far. Don’t worry. If he doesn’t tell you I’ll get it out of him.”

“Thanks, Noct… Have a safe journey, okay…? And if Prompto doesn’t come home before he leaves…. Just let him know that I love him…”

“I will.”

You hang up the phone and walk back inside to the apartment, sitting down on the couch wondering what the hell happened. You covered your face with your hands, wiping the tears that were now streaming down your face. You couldn’t help but feel like this was all your fault. If you only listened to your gut and didn’t ask him about it… Grabbing the nearest pillow you scream into it. It was frustrating. Why wouldn’t he tell you what was going on? You walked into the room you shared with him and lie down, closing your eyes tightly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noctis looked over at Prompto as he walked up the steps of the palace.

“You say bye to (Y/N)?” he questioned.

Prompto simply shook his head and walked to the Regalia. Noctis sighed and looked over at Ignis and Gladio.

“Any of you know what’s going on with him?” he whispers.

“Not a clue…” Ignis responds.

“Same here.” Gladio chimes in.

“Great. Looks like this is going to be one hell of a journey for us.” Noctis walks down the stairs after saying goodbye to King Regis.

They all enter the Regalia and make start their journey to Altissia.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noctis grabs Prompto’s arm, turning him around.

“You are not walking away from me, Prompto. What the hell is going on? Why are you acting like this? You’ve already walked away from (Y/N), and we don’t even know where she is right now. So you are going to tell me what the hell is going through your head.” he shouts.

Prompto looks away and sighs to himself.

“You really want to know what’s been bothering me? Well fine. Here it is….” he takes a deep breath before continuing. One of his worst fears was coming to life. He knew he couldn’t have kept it a secret forever, but he didn’t ever think he would have to tell people about it now… He definitely wasn’t happy with the way he left things with you, but he couldn’t take it back.

“I… I was born in Niflheim, alright? I was a test subject… I was bred there to become a daemon… or a soldier… I don’t really know. All I know is that I escaped. I left and went to Lucis. And I didn’t want to say a thing to anyone because I was scared. Because I didn’t want anyone to hate me or resent me… I finally had a place to call home. I finally had a life I wanted to live. I didn’t want you guys or (Y/N) to know because I didn’t want you to think differently of me…. You guys are all I have…” he looks down at the ground.

Noctis looks at him and walks over, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. Stop thinking like that. You’re one of us. You always will be. This changes nothing. Let’s just… find (Y/N) and get her somewhere safe before we keep going, alright?”

Ignis walks over to Prompto and pats his back.

“Don’t ever think that we would leave you on the streets just because you were born in Niflheim. You are our brother. Don’t forget that.”

Gladio nods and smiles.

“Keep your head up, blondie. We aren’t gonna treat you different.”

Prompto looks up and smiles a little, nodding his head.

“Thanks guys… you’re the best. Let’s go.”

The boys made their way to Cape Caem, deciding to meet up with Iris. Prompto looked out the window, silent the entire way there. He was afraid. He knew he lost you the minute he walked out the door and never went back to say goodbye. What if he messed everything up?

He sighed to himself and closed his eyes, hoping he could get his mind off it for the time being. As they pulled up to Cape Caem, Iris smiled brightly.

“Gladio!” she exclaimed. “Glad to see you guys are safe.” she looked over at Prompto and smiled slightly. “Hey… (Y/N) is up by the lighthouse if you want to talk to her… She’s been worried about you.”

Prompto gives her a weak smile and nods.

“Thanks, Iris. I’ll be sure to head on over there.”

Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis followed Iris seeing as she wanted to show them around. Prompto took in some deep breaths, not sure how talking was going to work out.

He walked over to some wildflowers and picked them, putting them all in a bunch. He made his way up to the lighthouse and paused when he saw you. He took one last deep breath and made his way over to you. He tapped your shoulder and held up the flowers when you turned around.

You looked down at them then back up at him. You narrowed your eyes and walked over to him, slapping him across the face.

“What the actual hell, Prompto?” you screamed. “Not a single word from you before you left. For all I know you could’ve been dead and I wouldn’t have ever known. You are so selfish!” you fumed.

You fold your arms and look at him intensely.

“I want answers. Now.” you command. “I’m not taking these damn flowers until you tell me what the hell I did wrong.”

Prompto frowns and scratches the back of his neck, putting his arm down.

“Okay… here’s the truth... “ he begins before stopping.

“Keep going.” you urged.

He looks at you with sad eyes and nods.

“The truth is… I was born in Niflheim. I was bred to become a daemon or some Imperial soldier… But I escaped before they could do anything to me. I went to Lucis to start a new life. I wanted to forget about all of that. I never told anyone because… well… because I was scared. I didn’t want anyone to kill me or make me their mortal enemy… I was afraid you and the others would treat me differently… or that you wouldn’t be my girlfriend or that they wouldn’t be my best friends… Things were finally going my way and I didn’t want to ruin that by telling people I was born in Niflheim.” he croaked.

You lower your guard and knit your brows together.

“Why would you ever think that…?” you whisper. “You know us better than that. We deserved better than that.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry, (Y/N). I was an asshole.”

“Yeah. You were. But you’re my asshole. You should’ve just told me, Prompto.” you say as you walk over to him. You take his hands in yours and smile gently. “I don’t care where you were born, or what you’ve done. I will always support you. And I will always love you the same. Nothing will change that. Nothing.” you soothe.

He nods and hugs you tightly, taking in your scent. He missed this. And he was happy he didn’t screw everything up.

“I love you… I’m so sorry.” he sobbed.

“Hey. No crying.” you say as you wipe his tears.

He sighs and takes inhales deeply to calm him down. He exhales and smiles.

“You okay now, chocobo butt?” you taunted.

His eyes soften and he playfully hits your shoulder.

‘I’m okay. But you’re gonna get it for calling me chocobo butt. MY HAIR DOESN’T LOOK LIKE THAT FOR THE LAST TIME!” he shrieked.

You laugh at how offended he got. You missed him, and you were glad things had finally been cleared up.

“Come here.” you say as you pull him in for a kiss.

Prompto kisses you back passionately as butterflies fill your stomach once more.

#prompto argentum x reader #prompto argentum fanfic #prompto argentum au #prompto argentum blurb #prompto argentum oneshot #prompto argentum preference #final fantasy xv #ffxv #ff #final fantasy au #final fantasy blurb #final fantasy oneshot #final fantasy fanfic #final fantasy xv fanfic #final fantasy xv au #final fantasy xv blurb #final fantasy xv oneshot #final fantasy xv preference #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #love you the same