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All Of Me

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“And so, for the remainder of the year, I want you to pair up and create a novel of your choosing.”

I made the note on the corner of my notebook, but I wasn’t all that thrilled. I always get stuck with some asshole that expects me to do it all. The teacher passed back the assignment details. There was a name already on the top of the page… Oh, sweet baby Shiva...

“So, you’ll notice there’s a name at top. This is your partner for the school year–”

A mix of emotions rippled across the room. Some looked happy, some looked liked like they were condemned to hell. Me? My face was burning. I’m already in hell, thank you. I stared at the name that would make or break my senior year and my sanity…

I had Prompto.

I chanced a glance at him two seats back, his eyes taking in the assignment. I could bet he was already at a loss, but the adorably lost look suited him.

“Settle down!” the teacher called, “Now, for this first part, one of you will be the editor and the other the writer. You’ll switch off for the next assignment but for the rest of the class period I want you to discuss your plan. Genre, characters, point of view…”

The class started to move about, but before I could muster the courage to turn to look at him again, Prompto had plopped himself in the empty desk in front of me. Oh, shit…

“Hey! Guess we’re partners!” he smiled brightly at me.

“I guess so…” I struggled to say that much.

“I’m so lucky,” he said, “Hands down the best writer in the class and she’s my study buddy!”

Insert low key heart attack. “Y-yeah well, I’m not all that. But let’s get started. Did you have any ideas–”

“Not all that?” Prompto interrupted, flabbergasted at my humility in my own shitty writing. “I’ve done some of your peer reviews! They’re amazing!”

Insert high key heart attack. “Um, thanks, Prompto. But the assignment…” Dear Gods on High I’m going to die before I can turn this project in!

“Right, right… well,” Prompto taps a thin finger to his chin in thought. “I liked that romantic short story you did. It had a lot of… of… feels, I guess.”

I vaguely wondered if Leviathan needed company at the bottom of the ocean… “Uh, sure. I’ve got a few of those already written,” I tell him with what little breath he hasn’t stolen from me, “you won’t have to do anything–”

But I want to!” again Prompto interrupts, but with a freckled pout that made my heart melt. “Besides, I wanna say I know you when you become a famous author or something. And you can teach me your writing process so we can get a good grade.” He smiles brightly at me and I’m sure some other part of me melted a bit too.

“Ok, ok… we can use my writing guides. I’ll print them out and you can read over them–”

“Awesome! You can come over after school! I’ll get us some brain snacks so we can–” The bell rings, cutting his excitement short. “Ugh, don’t you just hate being interrupted?” he frowns at the bell as others began to stir and leave. Rich, coming from him. I’m sure my face is deadpan blank, but he doesn’t notice and writes his number on the top of my assignment sheet. “Text me later, ‘kay?” Prompto smiles and grabs up his things.

What just happened?

The remainder of the day, Prompto kept popping up everywhere. He’d smile and wave, then go back to whatever he was doing. My face would burn brightly every time and I’d scoot off to my destination. “What’s wrong with you?”

My best friend had been watching me since after Literature with Prompto. Dawne handed me my bathing suit over the bathroom stall as I changed for gym. We had to swim today… “Nothing, just hate that we couldn’t do something inside today.” Something that didn’t require me to show the entire expanse my thick legs.

“Well, at least it’ll be quick,” Dawne said consolingly, “Four laps and you can go.” She handed me the shorts I normally wore over my one piece and walked with me to the pool.

The swim coach had us lined up for our turns. Of course I was dead last, but that was ok. No one but Dawne and the coach would be around. My turn came and I jumped in, nearly sprinting my laps just to be done.

“Eight minutes is your time to beat next time,” coach said I swam up to the edge. Hey, a personal best for me. “You’re free to go.”

I heaved myself up over the edge, losing my shorts from the weight of the water. “Shit,” I muttered to myself (the coach pretended not to hear) and snatched my shorts back on… just as a certain blonde stopped in front of the window overlooking the school pool. It seemed like we stared at each other through the glass for eternity before he walked off with an awkward blush.

And cue dramatic run-cry to the bathroom…

“I mean, it wasn’t all bad,” Dawne tried to console me from the other side of the stall.

Yes it was!” I whined (melodramatically, yes). “You know how I feel about him!”

“I know honey, but you’re going to have to suck it up today. You’re still going to his house right? For your project?”

Hell no!”

“C'mon, what’s more embarrassing? An awkward pool moment or flunking your best subject and having to repeat it in summer school after everyone sees you walk the stage at graduation?”

“Awkward pool moment for $200, Alex?” I tell her, but I couldn’t keep a straight face. She was right. I couldn’t risk graduation now. I unlock the door and take my best friend hug that I so desperately needed, and head home to change before going to Prompto’s.

I stopped by the library to print my writing guides before I left, slipping the thumb drive into its port and sifting through my shit stories to find them. I make a mental note to sort them out later. I grab up the sheets and slip them into a folder. “Dammit… it’s getting late,” I mutter to myself when my watch strikes five o'clock.

I hustle home, shower the chlorine out of my hair and put on a pair of jeans and a tank top, finishing my frumpy look with an oversized sweater.

I hyperventilate the entire time I walked to Prompto’s house, begging my subconscious mind not to make a fool of myself in front of the only crush I’ve ever had. I’ve known Prompto since middle school. Even as a little rolly polly that toted a digital camera around, he was still a cute guy. But it often scared me, how much we were alike. He took pictures. I wrote stories. No true family to speak of…

I knocked on the door and waited, my hands slippery with nerves. “Just a sec!” Prompto called. I heard heavy footsteps on the wood beyond before a golden ray of sunshine appeared at the door. “Oh! You came!”

“Wasn’t I supposed to?” I asked him. He seemed frazzled, tiny beads of sweat gathered in his forehead. He was tugging nervously at his shirt and his face was flushed. “Are you alright?”

“Hm? Oh! Yeah I’m just… uh… had quick workout. Come on in!” I followed behind him, noting the sweat on his back seeping into his thin shirt. His sweatpants seemed loose, but Gods Prompto had a great–


“Huh?” My eyes snapped up to his. Was he talking the whole time?

“I asked if you were thirsty,” he smiled, cocking an eyebrow as he meandered into the kitchen. “I’ve got soda, juice, whiskey…”

Oh, Gods no…That’s all I need is to make a drunken fool of myself. “Juice, please. Hold the whiskey.”

“Sure thing!” Prompto pours me a measured glass of sweet, translucent mango juice. “Juice for the lady, hold the whiskey,” he smiles.

I clear my throat, hoping not to let the weird squeak escape me. “Thanks. So I brought my writing guides. We can start with figuring out the characters and what kind of relationships they’ll have.”

Prompto looked at me, nodding in agreement. “Ok, sounds great. Mind if I shower before we start? I don’t want to be that close to you smelling all sweaty.” He gives me an apologetic face, a light tinge on his face.

“Uh… okay…”

Prompto shuffles away, my eyes following his ass as made his way to the shower. I pull out my notebook and pencil case and start drafting, randomly making side notes for my own stories.

Prompto was taking a while. And after the juice he gave me, I kinda needed to pee. I made my way towards what I assumed to be the bathroom. I knocked lightly on the door; I didn’t hear any running water, nor did I receive a response. I turn the handle and peek into the room, then immediately slam it shut, face so red I could easily pass as a traffic light.

I sidled back to my notebook. I can’t write a thing now. Unless it’s a phallic solo scene involving Prompto, this project isn’t going to get done.   

A few minutes later, Prompto comes back, red faced and awkward in a clean set of clothes. “Um, the bathroom’s free… if you still need to–”

“I… um… I think I’m good.” I tried bury myself in the project laid out before me. “S-so, characters… any thoughts?”

The next day, as I passed by the Literature classroom, I saw Prompto standing nervously before the teacher. I had hoped he wasn’t in trouble, but his voice seemed measured as he talked to the teacher. “So we’re allowed to write however we want?”

“You’re adults Mr. Argentum, I don’t want to restrict your creative freedom,” the teacher gave him a kind, monotoned smile, “If it makes you feel better, the submissions will be anonymous. All the gore, sex, and innuendos will be faceless. Just make sure it’s tasteful and edited properly.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Prompto turned to leave, I scooted down the hall, but not fast enough. He calls my name, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor. “Hey. Um, are you busy after school? I had some ideas for the novel.”

“I…um, are you sure about that?” I laugh nervously. A sad attempt at humor. “Any workouts I should wait for you to finish?”

His face brightened. What the hell made me say that? Prompto closed the gap between us, stopping just before me. My heart was thumping madly against my chest. What have I done? “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t–”

Come over and we can workout together…

When I came to, Dawne was hovering over me, concern laced in her features. “What the hell happened?” she asked. She helped me sit up, handing me my glasses. I looked around; I was in the library.

“I… well… Prompto… and then he… but I didn’t mean…” I babbled stupidly at her. I look up at the small windows. It’s getting dark. “Shit! What time is it?”

“Nearly six thir– hey!”

I grabbed my things and tore off running to Prompto’s. I’m nearly doubled over as I knock on his door, but then I regret doing so. I heard the shuffling beyond the door and Prompto appears, pulling down his t-shirt. “Wow… you’re here…” he stumbled over those few words, reaching out to help me inside, nudging the door closed with his foot. “Should you be walking around? You really had me worried earlier.”

“I’m fine,” I told him, “and I’m sorry to make you worry.” He seated me on the sofa then scuttled off to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water. It’s probably best to get onto this project before I fuck shit up worse. “You said you had some ideas?”

“I did.”

Silence… “Soo… what are they?”

Prompto twiddled his thumbs, not quite looking at me. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Sure,” I shrugged.

“How do you find inspiration for your stories? What makes you want to write them?”

I thought hard about what I wanted to say. “Well, I guess it’s the same way you find inspiration in your photos,” I told him. “It’s really no different.”

“Just like we aren’t that different, right?” he smiles, playfully shoving my arm. I laugh at him. I suppose we weren’t all that different. Prompto scooted closer to me. ‘Ok sunshine… you’re too close…’

“I… remember some of your stories in middle school,” he said, scratching at the back of his head. “They were really good. I thought so because they were so imaginative, like you took me to another world altogether…”

“I-I-I’m glad you–,”

“I… remember you though, not just your stories…” Prompto said. His voice was quiet, a little shy, too. “I liked how we were the same, but different. I was on the chubbier side, but you were…”

“Skinny as a rail?” I finished for him, “don’t remind me.” I hated being so skinny back then; I got made fun of so badly I would hide in the library, literally under the bookshelves with my notebook bawling my eyes out.

“Yeah, but you were still so nice to me,” Prompto went on, “You wrote, I took pictures. I even wanted to make a picture book with you, but I was too shy to ask.” He slid a little closer, encroaching upon my personal space and making it harder to breathe. “Can I show you something?”

I blinked a couple of times, confused at his sudden change. “Yeah, sure.” He flashed that smile of his and lead me to his room. Untidy, but I expected as much. But there were dozens of pictures on the walls. Beautifully taken, it seemed all the more artistic than technical. Random objects, random people, random animals. “They’re amazing, Prompto,” I tell him just as my eyes fell on a more nostalgic looking Prompto from middle school. He was so cute and dorky! “Aw! Cute little Prommy!”

“C-cute?” he stuttered, “I wouldn’t say that…”

I move on to the next picture and the next, each photo depicting a slimmer version of himself. “Wow… you worked so hard…”

“So did you.”

A wry smile flashed on my face. “Not really. I just… fluffed up one day.” I traced the last picture of him, smiling at how adorable he remained, whatever he weighed. A bright flash danced across my glasses.

“Sorry,” he said lowering the camera, “I know I should’ve asked but… you looked so beautiful. I didn’t want to miss it.” My face tinted, and he snapped another. “Um, I have something to give you,” he said. He bent over his computer desk, rifling through a drawer. “I wanted to give you this but…”

I felt my heart stop. It was a small album with a heart on the cover. Opening it, I saw a black and white picture of myself laughing at something, apparently. The next was a photo of me, obviously deep in thought. Another of me sitting under a tree with my notebook, another talking to Dawne… “When did you take these?”

“Any time I could,” he said. He put his camera down and stepped closer to me. “Those too,” he gestured at the randomosity of knick knacks pinned to the walls. “I just snapped whatever I was looking at when I thought of you.” I was stunned into silence. How long  had he felt like that? “So, the idea about the story,” he added, his hands tentatively on my arms, “I was hoping… it could be ours…”


“Please?” Prompto’s hands rested on my waist, his forehead on mine.

In all honesty, it didn’t take any thought. His lips brushed along mine, either purposely or by accident, but in either case it made me forget myself. I pressed back into his lips, feeling him gasp, but he quickly recovered with with a smirk, wrapping his long arms around me in a tight hug.

“So is that a yes?” he laughed.

“A thousand times yes!” I giggled at him. Prompto’s hands slid further down, hiking me up off the ground. He took a step back, his foot slipping on a errant sneaker and we both go sailing onto the floor.

“Oh! Are you ok? I’m so sorry!” he panicked, but I could only laugh at him.

“I’m fine, Prompto, really!” His face softened into a sheepish grin, his hands reaching forward to take my glasses.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, thumbing over the blush of my cheek. He craned  his neck forward to kiss me again, this time taking it a step further. His tongue brushed along my lips. It surprised me so that I gasped at the action. Prompto took the opportunity to lace my tongue with brushes of his, drawing out the moan I had been trying to hold in. “Oh my… the sounds you make… ngh!”

Prompto shuffles me off and bolts for the bathroom. A moment went by and I heard a soft moan beyond the door. The sweetest, sexiest sound that had ever graced my ears. ‘Ok… if you’re gonna do it, do it now…’ I steeled what little bit of ballsiness I had and opened the door.

“Gah!” Prompto shrieked, his hand still wrapped around his dick through his unzipped jeans. “I… um… I can explain…”

‘Be brave. You only waited for this since yesterday when your hormones took over…’

“Ok. Explain it to me,” I try my best to go for sexy minx rather than horny ass teenager as I approach him on the edge of the bathtub. I pushed away his hand, wrist forever wrapped in a wide wristband of varying colors. I gave him a couple of experimental jerks, watching his hips flinch.

“Oh… I, um… uh…hnnngh…” Prompto looked like a chocobo caught in the headlights. He was cuter this way and I found myself greedily wanting to see more.

“Use your words…” I purr (I guess?) at him as I fitted my body between his legs, settling on my knees.

“I…” Prompto took a moment to swallow, his head falling back as I stroked him. “That moan earlier… it kinda… turned me on,” his face was flushed with embarrassment, but he didn’t tell me to stop.

“Mm… did it?”

“That, and… I think about–ah!– when you were in gym… how hot you make that swimsuit… oh, Gods…”

I blush at the memory. “At least someone liked it… though I’d like to see you in yours.” I leaned into him, close to his ear, “Maybe we should have a date at the beach soon.”

Prompto shuddered under me, his hands burying themselves in my hair before his lips made contact with mine. His hips impatiently rocked into my hand and a small whimper passes from his lips to mine. “I… want you… so bad right now… ughn…”

I’d come too far to stop now. I let go of his dick, the rosy head weeping heavily with his seed. ‘Do it…’ my brain tells me… so I do. I lick away the cum dripping from his cock, smirking at my own audacity and the scandalized look Prompto gave me.

He pulls me up, standing himself before leading me back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. “Guess we’re a thing now,” he growls in my ear, a bolder hand in my hair as he nips at my lips.

“Guess so,”

“So… can we… should we…?”

“Do you… I mean, if you want…”

“I do.” There was a tone of finality that I had never heard from him before. He looked at me with such seriousness that it would be hard to assume he was joking as usual. “I’ve wanted this for ages. And I want to be yours too…”

“Ok.” I told him. Our feelings were out on the table now; I didn’t have anything to hide anymore. He slowly popped away the buttons on my uniform shirt, his eyes widening when he saw the results of puberty altering my body.

My face blushed a bit, that confident mask crumbling under his gaze. I bit at my lip as he touched me. “Babe,” he said quietly. The thought of him calling me that sent shivers down my neck. “Breathe, babe…”

I let go of the breath I had been holding back without really knowing that I was holding it.

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?”

Oh, Gods no! I mean…” Prompto chuckled at me,  leaning in to kiss at my neck. “I just… don’t have a high opinion of my body…”

“I do. A very high opinion…” he snapped up my bra, exposing my nipples to the cold air. “Gods babe… you’re gorgeous.”

“I told you, Prompto…” I tried to keep myself on track with my thought but sweet Astrals his tongue swirling over my neck made thinking one hell of a chore. “I gained a lot of weight in a short amount of time.”


“I’m not particularly proud of my tiger stripes, Prompto.”

Prompto stopped his assault on my neck and backed away to look at me. He thumbed my hardened nipples, tracing the lines of the unexpected stretch marks that appeared on my breasts somewhere between the end of middle school and the beginning of high school. “Let me see all of you,” he said, looking directly into my eyes. “Please?”

I give him a small nod and he reaches behind me to unzip my skirt, revealing a pair of lacy panties that I wish I had the forethought not to wear lest he think I’d planned all of this…

Prompto knelt down, pulling away my skirt and letting me step out of them. He rubbed at my legs, sprinkling kisses on my marked thighs; the same marks I’d tried to hide during gym. He kissed his way up my legs, over my hips and waist before taking my mouth again. “I see nothing wrong with it,” he smirked as he pulled me to his bed, patting his lap for me to sit. “You’re still kind, affectionate, smart, funny… you’re beautiful, babe. I just hope maybe one day…” A blush. Again.


“I just hope that one day… maybe they’ll mean something when we raise our kids… i-if you want to.”


“Besides, you aren’t the only one with tiger stripes…” he rolled me onto my back, shuffling me towards the middle of the bed. My eyes watched his cock still hard protruding from the open zipper in his pants. He tossed off his shirt and I gasped at what I saw. “Took me awhile to get used to them too.”

Prompto had stretch marks all along his abdomen, some bold, some fading. I ran a cautious hand over them. He worked so hard for them… “Wow…”

“You might not like them now, but I’ll make sure that you know how perfect you are; with or without them.” With one more kiss at my neck, Prompto reached over to his bedside table, fishing around for a small foil package. He slipped out of his pants and me out of my underwear, and rolled the condom down his length, then settled himself between my marked legs.

“Ready?” he asked me, lacing his fingers in mine.

“Yeah.” I squeezed his hand giving a smile that he readily returned. He pushed in slowly, kissing at my face, his breath hot and wanton moans tumbled out of his mouth as he filled me to completeness.

Hnnngh… babe…” Prompto gave a shuddering growl as he pulled back, then pushed in again. This time the moan came from me.

Ohyes, Prompto…”

“Those sounds, babe… keep making them for me… please, babe… I need to hear you moan for me…”

He rocks his hips faster. I try to match his pace, but it was too much to try and handle. I screamed out for him when he touched me; fingers teasing my clit, his tongue on my nipples or, when his thrusts hit that perfect spot every now and then. He rolls backwards, taking me with him until I’m on top, looking down at him deliriously with total adoration on his face. He cups my breast in one hand and my thigh in another, his breathing uneven as he neared his peak. The sounds he made triggered an immediate response in my cunt, willing my hips to ride him faster and harder, scratching into his smooth chest as he cums with the cutest moan.

“Fucking Six…” Prompto grit through his teeth. I slip off of him and let him get his bearings as he tosses the dirtied condom in the can by the door. “I’ve never cum so hard in my life…” he smiled, “Have you?”

“Um…” Insert embarrassment

“You didn’t finish?” he gives me an equally embarrassed frown.

“It’s ok,” I tell him, “you did have a head start–”

“Oh no no no…” he waves his hand at me, circling behind me and settling there. His teeth grazed my ear, causing my eyes to roll back in bliss. “I won’t allow that, babe. Don’t keep that sexy orgasm from me.” Prompto pushes my knees apart, then sucks on his fingers before circling my oversensitive clit.

Hgnhnn… oh, fuck… Prompto… yes…” I can only whine at him at this point. My nails dig into the sheets as he curves a finger inside me, then adding another as he teases my nipple with his free hand.

“Babe… you’re so hot like this,” he whispers in my ear, “You’re so wet, just for me. And, Gods you’re so tight. Will you cum for me, babe? I want to taste you on my fingers when you do…”

Stick a fork in me… I’m done.

I screamed his name as I cum, nearly gushing buckets onto his bed. He withdrew his dripping hand, putting it to his lips and sucking each digit slowly and deliberately. “So sweet,” he murmured softly in my ear before pressing a kiss on my neck. I could only laugh as my body went limp in his arms.

Prompto stripped his bed down and put them in the laundry as I put myself back together, opting to stuff my panties in my backpack. “So we really need to get on writing the novel, Prompto.” I remind him. “Though I might have some good inspiration for a story of our own.”

“Come over tomorrow and I’ll give you more… inspiration.” Prompto grinned, pulling me close as we worked on the project for a while before I headed home.

The following day, I kept stealing glances at Prompto; he would blush and smile before coming over to me and starting a conversation about nothing. His fingers would curl in my hair, his hands would brush mine. We turned in our first draft, beaming brightly at it. He did the writing.

“Oh, hey babe?” he called at the end of the day, “I, um, forgot to give you something.” Prompto digs in his schoolbag and hands me a thumb drive. “You left it in the library.”

“Oh you’re the best…” I sigh in relief, though with our whirlwind week, I hadn’t noticed it missing. “I just hope no one’s gotten into it.”

“Hehe… yeah, well,” Prompto takes my hand and kisses the back of it, “I’ll text you later ok? Stay up for me?”

“Of course,” I smile and place a kiss on his lips.

Later that night, I decided to put the notes I’d been taking for my own writing in a folder on my thumb drive. “What the–?” The screen wasn’t a cluttered mess, but neatly organized by genre. At the bottom was a folder that I didn’t recognize. It was simply marked with a heart emoji. I clicked it and my heart melted completely. The randomly artistic photos that hung in Prompto’s bedroom were compiled there, each with a small thought like ‘I wonder what she’s doing right now?’ ‘Does she like chocobos?’ ‘She’s amazing…’

The last photo had no description, but I recognized it as the photo that he took of me as I was writing under a tree. I clicked it open and words appeared on the screen that had me nearly in tears.

‘The love of my life… and she’s mine… all of her.’