#and our president would love to suck that piece of shit's cock so you know we are even more fucked

[lucianinsanity]

Well, now you know how Argentinians felt all year

[let-love-bleeds-red]

Ezekiel reyes x reader

A/N: I’m new to posting/publishing my works so any feedback is welcomed! Maybe will do a part 2?? Depending on you readers. Also don't be shy to ask for more characters or different shows. ☺️

Summary: Ezekiel leaves their romantic partner high and dry as he deals with supposed club business. Y/n feeling quite lonely sends an attention grabbing video to Ez only for his phone to be left behind. After a confusing phone call with Angel, y/n decides she needs to see who Ez has been talking to. When Ez’s past crashes with his future puts Y/n in a bad position, y/n must figure out what’s better for her future and their relationship.

Warnings: Mature language, smut, oral sex, fingering, masturbation, mention of bodily fluids, mention of abuse, angst.

Word count: 3073

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Light shuffling wakes me from a blissful dream. My eyes adjust to the light shining through the window blinds. I rub the sleepiness away and make eye contact with the bare back of Ezekiel Reyes. Shamelessly, I take in every inch and mark of his body, happy that he's mine.

Ez turns around feeling eyes on him. "Like what you see cariña" (darling) the corner of his mouth curves up into a devilish smirk.

I'm sure I'm drooling at this point. Recapturing my composure, I throw a pillow at the back of his head. "It surprises me that your ego is bigger than your head" I retort.

He turns away from the dresser facing me “you didn’t mind my head size when it was between your legs,” a shit eating smile filling his face.

“Ezekiel Reyes!” I scold giggling. Warmth floods my cheeks as I hide underneath the covers. Large hands make they’re way up my legs, kisses trailing close behind them. My breath hitches as his lips make contact to my inner thigh. His teeth nip at certain spots making sure to leave many love bites. My fingers scratch the back of his head leading him further up to where my body most craved. He licks my slit, his focus now on teasing my clit.

A soft moan escapes my lips as my hips involuntarily buck up closer to him. Ez smirks kissing up to my sternum. He looks up to me with mischievous eyes. I pout from the loss of contact, “you just want to get me worked up.”

His hand molds my breast while playing with my nipple, “You look so sexy when you’re frustrated.” His hot tongue connects to my erect nipple sucking and tugging lightly, the other hand not stopping its menstrations. He bites the side of my breast causing loud moans to escape.

My hips grind against his abdomen looking for friction and much needed relief. “Fuck.. Ezekiel” my nails scratch along his shoulders driving him further on. “Please mi corazon” (my heart) I moaned, needing more of him. His hand leaves my breast, sliding down to where I ache the most. Two digits pump in me while his thumb gives attention to my clit. I ride along Ez’s hand getting closer and closer to my climax. His fingers feel like magic, hitting every sensitive part. I’m arching from the immense pressure of pleasure that’s fighting to be released. Just as I’m reaching the edge a ringing freezes Ez’s actions. Ezekiel looks to me, then to his phone across the room on the dresser, then back to me. “Don’t you even think about it,” The need for release takes over my emotional state.

Ez kisses my forehead, “Lo siento mi amor.” (I'm sorry my love) He climbs off of the bed making his way to the dresser and answers his phone. He turns away from me talking low to the person on the receiving end. I don't know if it’s my sexual frustrations or the fact that he’s acting sneaky but something was definitely up. Ez’s hush conversation ends as he rushes to get his clothes on. I sit up worried, “Is something wrong with the club? Is Angel alright? Bishop?” Here I am frustrated since we didn’t finish, yet my Mayan family could need help. Even worse they could be hurt. God I’m so selfish.

“No hermosa, everyone is fine. The club needs me for a run. I can’t say no to them,” He eases my mind. “Rest baby, I’ll be back before you know it.” He kisses my head rubbing the crease on my forehead.

“Be careful, I know it's just a run but things can go bad so quick, so please be careful.” I hug him snuggling my head to his chest hearing his beautiful heart beat.

He rubs my back holding me close, “See you in a few, sleep mi corazon” He takes my face in his large hands planting a soft kiss to my lips. After a brief moment he lets go and grabs his kutte from the corner chair. I hear the door close seconds later and sigh sadly. He just left and I’m missing him like crazy. I’m so whipped. Maybe I should show him how bad I’m missing him.

Grabbing my vibrator from the nightstand drawer, and setting my phone on the stand to catch all my naughty actions. I flip the switch to High on my vibrator moving it along my wet slit. The vibration re-excites my sensitive clit, as I rub it through my folds, lubing it up. My other hand finds my breast playing and tugging my nipple. “Ezekiel I want you so bad baby” I moan imagining his hands, his tongue, his huge thick cock. “I want you fucking every bit of me to pieces.” I rub against the vibrator gathering friction on the bundle of nerves. Feeling tired of waiting for release I thrust the vibrator into me. Not stopping to get used to the size, I thrust it fast in and out of me hitting my g-spot repeatedly. Taking my hand away from my breast I moved it down to my clit rubbing the sensitive bud to push me over the edge. “Fuck! Right there Ezekiel!” I moan arching my back. A split second later the burst of release and pleasure fills my body. I take the vibrator out seeing my cum drip along the sleek tool to the tip as I rub my orgasm out. “Would’ve been better if you were actually here,” I look at the camera. “I miss you, baby. Come home soon. I love you,” I blow a kiss toward the camera and end the recording.

After a long hot shower, I lather myself in lotion and get dressed. Checking how the naughty video looks, I send it to Ez satisfied with the results. A ding sounds from across the room. Investigating where the sound came from leads to Ez’s forgotten phone. For someone with great memory he forgets a lot of stuff. I’ll call Angel to let Ez know.

“Hey princess, you finally wise up and realize I’m the hottest Reyes?” Angel answers.

I roll my eyes laughing, “Sadly you’re mistaken Angel, Philippe will always be number one.”

“I’m gonna tell Ez you said that.”

“What makes you think Ez doesn’t know,” I smirk.

“Gross” he groans is distaste.

“Like your face. Anywho, how did the run go?”

“What run? Everyone is given the day off until the party tonight”

Confusion wracks my brain, “none of you went on a run this morning?”

“Not that I know of. What’s wrong?” He asks worriedly.

“Uh nothing, I just thought Ezekiel was with you and the guys. My mistake, sorry to bother you Angel.”

“You’re no bother princess, let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay thanks Angel, bye.” My heart sinks. Ez lied to me. He actually lied and broke his promise. Why would he do that. It has to be important if he needed to lie to me. Yea that’s it.

I look towards his phone thinking back to who he was talking to earlier. If it wasn’t the club then who? Going against my conscience I look through his messages to see Emily pop up on his recent. The messages showing meet up places on days Ez left early to do club business or met up with his dad. My heart is breaking into pieces. Shattering even more with the lies and betrayal. He knew how I felt about starting this relationship, about the trust issues, and trauma. He knew every part of me yet decided to destroy all that was built between us. Liquid drips onto my arms, I wipe my eyes not realizing the tears pouring. I don’t want to cry. I shouldn’t cry. Not over someone who didn’t truly love me. Yet I cry for the love that I gave him. I cry for being dumb enough to fall so hard for him, for giving my all to him.

~Months prior~

Slowly slipping out of strong arms I reach for my shirt and panties laying across the floor. Trying to be stealthy, I look for my missing shorts. How can someone lose shorts in a trailer?! There’s literally no way it’s too small, but of course my luck. I yelp as I feel myself being pulled back into a warm chest. Ez chuckles beside me, happy to catch me by surprise. “Buenos dias hermosa” (good morning beautiful) He kisses my temple leading more down the curve of my neck.

I hit his firm chest, “You scared me half to death, jerk!” Trying to hold back my smile, but Ezekiel being Ezekiel can see right through it.

His hand frames the side of my face as his thumb lightly trails across my bottom lip. “You weren’t trying to leave without saying goodbye were you?” His brown eyes bore into mine taking in every feature.

Not able to lie to him, “Yes, but only to get to the office before Chucky,” I explain while trying to climb off the bed again only to be pulled back to straddling Ez’s waist. “This is what got us in this situation in the first place, Reyes,” pointing to our current position.

His big hands slowly crawl their way up my bare thighs causing shivers to run up my spine. “You’re too irresistible, and you didn’t seem to mind it. I do remember you begging for more.”

Curse his memory. I hit his chest, ”Not my fault you kept following me around, I felt bad. You were like a lost puppy.” I smile thinking back to the first day we met. “Speaking of memory, where are my shorts?”

A mischievous smirk slips across his lips, “now what do I get if I tell you?” His hand now on my ass, pushing me slightly on his erection.

I jokingly ponder his question, grinding my hips slowly to tease, while tapping my chin in a thinking motion. “Hmm.. Not getting caught by Bishop, nor beaten to death. Oh and possibly get buried in the desert.” His smirk falls off his face. “But knowing Bishop he’ll probably castrate you first,” I grin thinking how protective the Mayan President can be.

He groans, pulling my shorts from behind his pillow. “Take them.”

“You were hiding them!” I laugh pinching his side teasing.

“I didn’t want you leaving,” he taps his finger along my thigh nervously.

“As sweet as that sounds, I don't want your death on my hands if Bishop catches us,” I joke.

“I want Bishop to know,” he states confidently. He sits up having us chest to chest as he watches my features. “I want us to date, be a couple in front of the club, in public. I don't want to hide it,” his hand caresses my face.

“Ezekiel,” I stop his hand. “I can’t do that. I can’t put sheer dumb trust in another person, not with my emotions and body.” Heat fills my chest from the traumatic memories. “I will not put myself in a position to be beaten down and taken advantage of.” Slipping out of his hold, I put my shorts and flats on trying to make a quick exit.

His hand gently wraps around my arm catching my attention. “I don't want you for your beauty and body, you’re so much more than that. You’re so strong and very smart, your humor and wit make you, you.” His arms wrap around my waist pulling me a bit closer to him. “I will never hurt you. I’m not that low life thug. I will never lie to you or make you feel uncomfortable. I respect you so much. Just give me a little trust, I promise you won't regret it,” he begs, his eyes full of love?

A knock on the trailer door interrupts the moment. “It’s Chucky, I brought by coffees for a morning wake up,” he explains happily.

I walk over to the door, opening it coming face to face with Chucky. “Thanks Chucky,” I take the two cups. “Do you mind letting Bishop know that I need to talk with him? He’s gonna wanna know I’m dating his prospect,” I look over to Ez smiling.

“Of course young love is beautiful, I hope to witness it myself one of these days.” Chucky sighs dreamily.

I peck his cheek, “You will Chucky. She’ll be one lucky woman,” I assure him.

Muscled arms snake around my stomach as Ez’s chest warms my back. “Chucky, y/n is gonna be late to clock in. I won't keep her for too long,” he kisses my temple.

“I love you Chucky, thank you!!” I squeal as Ez shuts the door and picks me up kissing me all over the face.

~End of Flashback~

My phone ringing brings me out of my haze. I answer it hearing the one man I didn’t want to contact. “Hey I’m calling from a pay phone, I think I left mine on your dresser. Any way I’ll be by to pick you up for the party tonight in a few minutes.”

I hold back from crying anymore, not wanting to show how hurt I am. “Don't worry about me, I’ll drive over by myself,” trying to keep my voice steady.

“Are you sure the house is on the way.”

On the way from where? Is what kills me. “I’m sure. I’ll see you there, bye.” I hung up before he could get another word in, not able to handle a longer conversation. Grabbing a duffle bag from the closet I pack every belonging of his. Erasing any sign of him from my home. As I fold the last of his shirts, his scent takes me in its embrace. I’m really going to miss him. Holding his shirt to my chest I hug it letting the last of my tears drip away.

After pulling myself together, I toss his stuff in my Jeep and head over to the club house. Chucky opens the gate and greets me. “Lovely night to let loose, huh y/n?”

I can’t help but always feel comfort from Chucky, he’s a true sweetheart. “Indeed Chucky. Make sure you get to enjoy the party a bit too.” I pat his arm before driving into the lot.

Hopping out, I head into the clubhouse to see Bishop playing a card game with Hank and Reaper. I greet the men hugging them one by one, leaving the last to be Bishop. “Can I talk to you in the temple?”

He nods a look of worry flashes across his face, “Of course mija. We’ll be back.” He tells Hank. We walk back to the temple, him taking a seat as I stand. “What’s wrong y/n? Did something happen?” He scopes out my face for any bruise or marks.

“Yes but it's not for you to worry about, Bish. Just letting you know I’ll be in Charming for the next couple of days.”

“Why are you leaving? Did the prospect do something to you?!” He starts to stand up to head toward the door.

I stop him shaking my head, “There is a job opening at the hospital there that I’ve been invited to try out. I think it’s a great opportunity for me since I’m back on my feet.” I explain leaving Ezekiel out of the situation.

“But that’s not the only reason. You look like you’ve been crying. What did the prospect do.” He demands an answer.

“Nothing that deals with the club. He didn’t touch me nor hurt me in any physical way. I can’t deal with being in a relationship, they don’t work well with me.” There’s no point in getting Ez into trouble with the club.

He gets up and embraces me, “If that’s what you want then I can’t stop you. Just make sure you’re doing it for you and not just running away.” He kisses the top of my head.

“I’ll call you when I get to Charming,” I pat his chest. “Please keep this between us, for now?” He nods his head in agreement. “Thank you for everything, El Presidente” I smile leaving him to head back to the Jeep. As I exit the club I come face to face with Ezekiel.

He smiles seeing that it’s me, “There you are hermosa,” he leans down to peck my lips. I step back avoiding the gesture. Confusion washes over him as I step around him to get to my car. He follows close behind, “Hey, wait up!” He grabs my arm only for me to yank away from him. “What’s wrong mi amor?” (my love)

“How was your run?” I steal my voice, staring at his brown orbs.

Worry taking over his emotions, “It was fine, everything went well. I’m okay.”

I scoff shaking my head at his lies. “Here,” pulling his phone out of my pocket and shoves it into his chest. “Emily has been messaging all day.”

Realization flashes through him, “wait baby no it’s not like that!” He tries to grab my hands.

“Don’t touch me. You lost the privilege the moment you decided to lie and sneak around. I don't want any part of your charades.” Tiredness heavy in my voice.

“Let me explain, please,” he pleads. “I didn’t cheat. I only helped her with a business issue,” he explains hurriedly.

“I don't need your explanation nor do I want it, Ezekiel. It’s not fair for you to live in your past, while you tell me to move on from my own. It’s hypocritical of you to think she loves you. Emily is a married woman, she loves Galindo, she’s moved on.” I sigh grabbing his duffle bag of belongings from my car dropping them at his feet. “At least I know I’m not the only stupid one in this relationship.”

“I don't love Emily, I love you, you are my everything. You make everyday worth it. I can’t lose you.”

“The problem, Ezekiel, is I don’t believe you. Your words are just that. Words. No meaning behind them. I’m not gonna give my time and trust to a man who doesn’t respect me. I’m done. It’s over. Don't contact me, don't go to my house.” I rush into the Jeep starting it and backing up out of the lot. The only thought is to drive away and don't look back. If I look, then I know I’ll turn and go back into his arms.

A/N: please feedback and let me know if there should be a part 2

[choiwrites]

pjm | high school sweethearts (m.)

Words: 18.4k Genres: high school!au, f2l, never been kissed!au, a lil bit of 2000's movie angst :) Warnings: defloration, fingering, dry humping, a smidge of dirty talk, oral (f&m), teenagers being hormonal what else would this be :( Rating: 18+ Playlist:  ♡

Summary: You are not one to believe in high school romance nor any kind of romance at all. Your world is turned upside down when you had to write about falling in love in high school. Having no experience, good thing your best pal Jimin came to the rescue. He's about to show you what falling in love is like through his broken perspective after his girlfriend just broke up with him.

The school cafeteria stretches before you. Chattering getting louder every second as more students join in the next table, your eyes peered at Yoongi, the President of the School Publication, who had just told you the feature's deadline. You were killing him inside your mind, butchering his insides, God you just want him to get kicked out of the school.

Exams are in a week and you did little to no effort in prepping for it, it was driving you nuts. But the cafeteria's coleslaw drove you even madder, its stupid taste lingered in your mouth even after you just took another chug of your second box of milk. You made a note to yourself to never get coleslaw ever again, no matter how convincing Jungkook's smiles were, though there's no denying that the lunch lady's son has somehow crept into your heart.

"Candid!" Jimin appears behind you, his camera flashing your eyes when he takes a candid shot of your face. You slap him on the shoulder before he could sit down beside you. "Do you have a crush on Yoongi?" His eyes scan the unfinished coleslaw on your table, his smile turning into pure disgust.

"What? No! He's just ruining my week," you reply after releasing a huff.

You tear your gaze away from Yoongi before his laughing figure would notice. Jimin giggles at the picture he had just taken. If Jimin didn't have a hundred pictures of your unreserved face, maybe you would have cared. Still, your eyes burned at the sight of your face in his camera.

"What made you sit with me today?" you ask, your eyes not traveling to his face but rather focused on everywhere else except for him and Yoongi.

His breathing was a little ragged, but enough to make your ears notice. He was breathing through his mouth, you could tell. You were that observant of Jimin. Your hand picks up the tiny box of milk, taking another sip from it while you wait for Jimin's answer. He was busy on his camera, then you heard a sniff.

"Seulgi broke up with me," he sniffs again, then he laughs in a croaky way. His voice was usually high, like an optimistic kind. Hearing Jimin's voice always sent you a jolt of happiness, hearing his voice crack made your knees wobble.

You were positive they'll get back together again like the other high school couples, it's their routine that you've gotten used to. It would only take a week before you see them smooching in the locker room again, or maybe eating each other's face in front of you. You wait for an explanation before you could ask, giving him silence so he could proceed with his sentiment.

"She was tired of me. She couldn't see a future with me," he began and forced a small snicker, one you could immediately tell was fake. "I was going to follow her to college. Good thing, I haven't."

You admit, your heart recedes at his tone. Though you've never received such words yourself, being told you're tiring would sure tear anyone's heart apart. And wanting a future with someone with no reciprocation sounded mean. You couldn't search for the right words on how hurt he looked beneath those eyes, you weren't one to have experience in any of the pain he's going through.

You place a hand on his back, a shaky motion vibrated against your palm. You could feel how hard he was trying to suppress all the tears inside him, he was afraid you would laugh. You pat him softly on his cotton jacket, scared to make the situation worse by saying the wrong thing. He took your silence as comfort, needing no words from you to make him feel better. He sniffs again.

"What was she tired of?" Jimin knew that asking you wouldn't bring actual answers, he needed those from Seulgi. But it was you beside him, not Seulgi, so he confides. "It can't be my dick," he laughs, which you returned.

"How sure are you?" Your forehead wrinkled as your brows knot together, a grin forming on your lips.

"A hundred percent, solid. It's probably my snoring, isn't it?" His stare leaves the camera, which had shut down moments ago, taking the courage to look at you who never looked more concern through the small smile you were showing.

"I've never heard you snore, but yeah. I guess so. I don't really follow the relationship you both have."

"Had," he corrects, and then released a nasal huff.

Through his burning face, he was still perfect in every way. His hair lays flat on top of his head, parted in the middle. His bottom lip bitten. His nose scrunches trying to sniff, then he brings the back of his hand to cover the lower part of his face. Your lips curved when he laughed at himself.

"Can we go? I just... I feel like she's on the way here and I don't really want to see her laugh with her friends," he said, nose blocking him from speaking properly.

Seulgi stands by the entrance, searching the cafeteria and when she spots Jimin, she pulls her friend to the counter. This didn't go unnoticed by Jimin, he pulls you harshly out of panic. You've never seen him so frustrated, it was funny.

"Dude, Jimin, what the fuck?" Your bag was open and as he tried to pull you away, your notes dropped on the floor, revealing all your drafts for the feature.

Jimin squats on the floor, examining your written works. The panic passes onto you, his face turned into a frown.

What could he have read?

"Jesus christ y/n, who broke your heart? These are so pessimistic," his hand ravishes on the crumpled paper, reading essays of a hundred words. You somehow regret not throwing those in the trash the moment you finished them.

"Can I just-" He stops your hand from reaching the papers, stretching his other hand away from you.

"This is not what 'falling in love in high school' is like! You're not following the topic given!" he yells, but a glint of happiness spreads across his face. He finds some sort of amusement from your reaction.

"You don't get it, Jimin. You only have to take pictures of couples, I have to write about them! It's not as easy as you think!"

Jimin was also a part of the school publication. He was mostly praised for his average photos, you've told him many times how they're not at all impressive. But he was a popular and good-looking student, everything he does will be adored by many. As opposed to you, who have only written one successful work throughout four years of being in the same page with him. High school will always be that way.

"Whatever. Your works won't make it to the paper if you keep them this way," he says with a stronger voice, a restrain on his throat from earlier brushing away.

"Can you just give them to me?" You reach for his other hand, but his hand on your shoulder kept you away from him. His strong scent burns your nose, but you didn't care even if you felt how hot his skin was. You only pushed yourself further, desperate to get the drafts.

"No, no," he clicks his tongue, "gotta tell me who's this ex of yours first." He waved his eyebrows and your shoulders slumped.

"I don't have an ex-boyfriend. There, you happy?" you declare under a small tone.

He inches his face to yours, and you pulled away when you felt him breathe against your lips. "No shit, y/n. Why the pessimism then?" He was trying to get a rise out of you and you are almost giving in. He reads them again but this time you give up, you couldn't stand his perfume any longer.

"I hate highschool couples. They act like everything is about relationships, even going to college together. Ew." You raise a brow, cocking your head towards him as you cross your arms on your chest.

"Fuck off. You just don't get it." He folds the torn pieces of paper, placing them in his pockets.

"Hey, give that to me!" You try to reach again, but he got a hold of your hand and you soften.

"They suck. I don't want Yoongi to read them, he'll probably judge the shit out of you."

"Why do you care? I take criticism."

"Yeah, and you're gonna get it from me," he says without a lot of consideration. So much of smiling caused his face to lose its puffiness, eyes losing a little bit of their shine.

"I don't need a photographer judging my work. Give them back!"

"Shush." He waves his index finger in front of your face.

You slap his hand away, thinning your lips and giving in to whatever Jimin was trying to do. "What are you gonna do with them?"

"I'll change them," he tilts his head before grabbing you to exit the cafeteria, the hallway rolls before the both of your feet and Jimin only puts his arm around you, "because that's what good friends do."

"For your entertainment, fine. Change it however you'd like, hell you can even put Seulgi's name as the title, I don't care. My idea of high school romance will remain the same!"

"I love Seulgi, alright? It's true, I felt it. Just because we are young doesn't mean our emotions are invalid."

"That's not my point, Jimin. All I'm trying to say is there's not a single record of relationships making it out of high school. It ends in high school and that's it."

His grip on your shoulder loosens and he turns to face you, your eyes remained on the walk ahead. Again, the smell of his perfume irritates your nose, you breathe shortly to avoid it.

"My parents met in highschool, you know that," he argues.

"But their relationship didn't start in highschool, you also know that."

He releases a breath of defeat, but he continued with his debate. "Regardless, high school romance is real. You've never had a crush before?"

"I've had crushes, Jimin. But they're crushes, nothing ever led to 'love'," your tone curved by the end of your sentence, hating the word.

Jimin was aware of your crushing habit, and he knew about each of them. Jungkook from the cafeteria, Seokjin who used to be a senior in the school, and Mr. Kim Namjoon of Biology class. He never missed a single one, but there's one you've never admitted to Jimin. Which was your tiny feelings for him. But you find no use of telling him since it only lasted a month, then he became this jackass friend of yours and you never wished for it change. He has been an amazing friend and everything was platonic between the both of you, he was the only boy you could look in the eyes without feeling insecure.

"Infatuation is the start of everything, dumbass."

"I don't want any of it," you reply and Jimin takes a hold of your arm when you tried to enter your class.

"Wait, I have a proposal." Your hand holds a strap of your bag, slouching in front of him. You turn to him again, brows rising to let him continue.

He takes a few moments before talking again, his adam's apple bobbed slowly as he takes the courage. Your eyes narrowed at his figure, trying to analyze his thoughts faster than he could. Jimin can get unpredictable sometimes, a kind you can't read. It's unfair he could read you like a book, a book he knows all too well.

"What if I make you fall in love?"

Your eyes widen, pulling away from him harshly, just enough to make him feel your rejection to his proposal. He can't be serious, and he can't be this horrible to use you as a rebound for Seulgi.

You as a pawn? No way!

You're not letting Jimin make your last year of high school dramatic with Seulgi's friends judging you by the hallway when you walk past them with Jimin's hand in your back pocket. No, that's not gonna happen.

"Are you insane? What's wro-"

"No, not with me. I phrased it wrong. I meant what if I make you feel like falling in love. You can't just keep denying emotions all through out highschool."

You weren't denying anything. You have a belief, a belief that no relationship in highschool ever lasts.

"Why do you want to prove me wrong so bad? Can't you just let me be?" your tone loomed over him. Anger took over your voice when you didn't mean it, so you looked at him in a stern way to let him know you weren't mad, just confused.

"I want you to know that I am in love with Seulgi. And your opinion is wrong, people fall in love during highschool."

"Jimin, I get it! You're in love with Seulgi, I don't care. Blah blah blah, love is relevant for you. Now get over it."

Both of you were standing before the door to Biology class, it looked stupid. Your classmates are starting to look at you funny, gossiping before entering the room behind you. You take your attention away from it and focused on Jimin's argument and hand which was still wrapped around your arm, he doesn't seem to notice how sweaty his palms are.

"No, you obviously don't get it. You're taking my emotion as a joke."

Why was he getting so worked up with my statement?

"Fine," you surrender. "What is falling in love like?"

Mr. Kim — or Mr. Joonie as you like to call him, appears behind Jimin, his height hovering over your friend. He nods at you and says "You have five minutes" before entering the almost rowdy class. You catch your favorite musky smell when he made his way behind you.

"I'll come by" was Jimin's last response before he vanished from the empty hallway, your mind not comprehending his reply.

Come by what? Where?

Whatever it was, you tried to pushed it to the back of your mind and failed. Biology was interesting, Mr. Joonie was wearing your favorite black and blue striped tie paired with his thin white long sleeves shirt. He discussed further about DNA base pairs which you fell behind on when your brain decides to bring back Jimin's last words.

You tried to bring your ears on Mr. Joonie's lesson, but your mind could only pull away. Screw Jimin for ruining this class for you, distraction was the last thing you needed this month and here comes your infatuated friend to fuck everything up. But it wasn't his idea that made you think, it's your reaction to his idea that caught your attention. You were too defensive earlier, but you guessed it's the right thing to do. However, you can only overthink.

Jimin's proposal was garbage, in what way would it possibly help you?

Falling in love? That's overrated, your mind is set for your one and only goal and that is graduating from this hellhole of hormonal teenagers seeking for love.

Jeez, you sounded like an old lady, but you know it's the truth. Falling in love leads to nothing but a disaster and worst case scenario: baby, which is not part of the high school bucket list you've made for your graduating year. Thanks to your hormones, they weren't as wild as the other teens.

Biology was quicker than you expected. Well, you spent the whole time looking out the window and wondering what the fuck Jimin meant. Lucky for you, Mr. Joonie never paid attention to you to even notice you weren't paying attention to him.

When you finished your Spanish class — your last period, you never caught Jimin in the hallway. Which you wouldn't have expected from what he had said, but you were only left disappointed. You guessed he went after Seulgi to give her the talk. You head home quickly, preparing to study the whole night. You cringe at the idea, already missing the feeling of the living room's sofa while binge-watching 80's sci-fi movies.

He probably forgot already, you tell yourself while flipping through the dull pages of your notebook. A tinge of small dismay tugs at your stomach, you shouldn't have expected too much from a friend like him. You left the thought as you push the first paragraph of your reviewer into your mind, it was ineffective. You only longed for something else, maybe it was food.

You leave your cold room, tiptoeing towards the kitchen downstairs. Your tummy jumps when you saw the cookie jar full. A neon green sticky note beside it reads "clean the house. - mom <3"

You roll your eyes, ignoring the note and opening the glass of sweets. The doorbell rings before your fingers could make contact with the cookies, annoyance builds inside you.

I swear, if this isn't the dress I ordered online. Your pj's drag along the floor as you reach for the door, and a sweaty Jimin stands in front of you. You close your eyes out of embarrassment, regretting that you didn't check the peephole first. You stand in your loose black shirt that barely hangs on your left shoulder, revealing the strap of your bra.

"Wow, you look awful," Jimin narrows his eyes, meticulously scanning your appearance. Your bra strap was only a part of your horrible get up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you assert, pulling the sleeve of your shirt to cover your exposed skin.

"I said I'd come by remember?" Oh, that's what he meant. "Sorry, I took long. Taehyung called for a meeting for the Curious Minds Club."

Of course, the Curious Minds Club, possibly the worst name for a science club. Jimin loved that name so much, he would always mention it in its entirety. It was his and Taehyung's idea, which you opposed when he asked for your opinion. He reasoned that you never cared about science anyway so you had no right to oppose him, which was stupid 'cause he asked for an opinion in the first place.

"You know what, it's a good thing you and Taehyung are graduating this year so juniors could rename that stupid club."

He walks past you and throws his bag on the floor before laying on the couch, not needing an invitation from you. "Why do you always have to hate my ideas? Just agree for once, Curious Minds is a legendary name."

You shut the door, heading back to the kitchen and finally getting your hands on the cookies. You moan in satisfaction, its taste exploding on your tongue. Jimin spins his head to you.

"Did your Mom make those?"

You nod, bringing the whole jar to him.You let the couch eat you, completely forgetting the reviewer waiting for you in your room. Jimin takes a bite and you absorbed his reaction, similar to yours.

"What are you gonna tell me?" you start.

Jimin's face lit up. "Right, almost forgot about that."

You sat a foot away from him, keeping distance from his nauseating perfume. Your legs cross in front of you, Jimin's arm spreads on top of the sofa right above you.

"So, you've never been in a relationship, right?" Not this again.

You nod, taking another soft cookie.

"I read your drafts during English class, and I gotta say y/n," you stare at him in anticipation, "you suck."

"You're gonna come over to my house, eat my Mom's cookies, and then roast me?! Fuck you, Jimin."

He laughs. "I'm kidding. You filled that paper with passion of hatred towards highschool couples, I started hating them as well," he explains.

"You're one of those couples, dummy. I actually took inspiration from you and Seulgi."

"I thought you don't follow our relationship?" he asks, his head cocking to your direction.

"I heard enough from you throughout the course of six months. Seulgi this, Seulgi that. Seulgi's being complicated, Seulgi's so cute when she burps. Seulgi's being too friendly with Taeyong, oh nevermind, Seulgi just said she loves me," you imitate his irritating ranting from the past, which you wish you would never receive anymore. Expecting an exasperated expression, you were surprised to see Jimin smiling at you.

"I thought you weren't listening all those times."

"Sadly, I was and I shouldn't have."

"The Taeyong part is still true, though," he extends the cookie he was holding forward, trying to pinpoint, "I saw them before dismissal."

"Look at you, all sad and sentimental. Cute li'l Jimin stalking his ex-girlfriend. Awe, how tragic," you vexed, pouting at the obviously annoyed boy.

"I wasn't stalking. I just saw them."

"Poor guy getting his heart broken in the hallway, poor Chimchim. How is he gonna move on now?"

"Quit it," sneered Jimin, indulging on his cookie.

He was still affected, it happened only a few hours ago, he won't be moving on too quickly. Seulgi's laugh is still fresh in his memory, and he could hear it vividly. He could still feel his stomach drop when he thinks of her. His world crumbling into pieces, like the cookie at the bottom of the jar, whenever he's reminded of how her eyes disappear when she smiles much like his — eyes forming intro wrinkly crescents. You felt as if you went below the belt when he became quiet, an uncomfortable silence sitting in the gap between the both of you.

"Back to my proposal," he breaks, "it would really change your writing."

You face pulled together in a center. "How can you say so, Mr. Photographer?"

He inches closer, but his smell was weaker, it was bearable. "Just like what the late Benjamin Franklin had said, 'either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.'"

Your lungs deflate, narrowed eyes processing him. "And what does that have to do with my writing? I wrote something worth reading," you proudly announce.

"No, you're writing your own opinion on a feature. When I read it, I felt like going nowhere. I didn't feel like going back to high school. I felt like I'm in the same place, there's nothing that opened in me," he explains, his words tightening your own throat. "The topic is falling in love in high school, but all I ever felt was hatred."

He pulled a chord in you. He was actually right. Your body falls on the couch, groaning out of frustration.

"What you wrote isn't worth reading, but-" he slouches on the couch and faces you, "you can do something worth writing."

Your cheek sinks on the couch, glaring at Jimin who never looked more passionate about helping you. Break ups do things to people, really.

"And what's that exactly?"

"I know you've never fallen in love in high school, so I'm gonna let you experience what people in love do."

"That doesn't sound like a good idea. I don't want to get messy with Seulgi." The cold leather against your cheeks didn't stop them to burn.

"No, y/n, we're not gonna date. Just trust me on this one, okay?" he convinces and you give in, finding no sense in arguing about a stupid subject

"Just don't do anything weird. I don't really get the gist of your plan."

"What are things that couples do?"

"Aside from making out and having sex at a party? I don't know," you say, his face not impressed.

"I really hate you right now. That's not what we do-"

"Did," you correct, a smile forming on your lips. His frown only worsens from the continuous mocking that you were doing. "Go on, what else did you do?"

His eyes rolled. "Dates. Have you ever been on dates?"

Of course, you have. Family dates count as real dates. That coffee date you had with Sana last Thursday counts, right?

And so, without further arguments within you, you decided to turn down Jimin's dumb idea. Who is he to make fun of you for not going to dates often? You were about to tell him that he's not an inch entitled to show you what a date feels like.

Unreasonably anxious, you tug your skirt down as a small swirl of wind hits on your thin skin. Jimin waves from the bench, standing up to analyze what you wore. You weren't supposed to feel your stomach fall when you finally came to face him, but you did. A tiny voice doubted your outfit choice, and a tiny voice told you how good he looked. Satisfaction fills your wandering mind, you were scared you'd come overdressed with your white puff sleeves.

There was a short amount of silence that gave you enough time to admire him. His Canon camera hangs around his neck, it was the first thing you noticed. He stands there in his skin-tight black pair of ripped jeans, and topped with a thick mustard hoodie. His cute yellow sneakers popped out from the gray cemented ground. Your nose tickled when his scent enters.

"Sorry" was all you could say.

He grins gently, eyes disappearing. "You're about thirty minutes late."

If you didn't spend minutes arguing with yourself about what to wear, you would've arrived sooner. But here you are, still regretting the choice you made. His bright fashion didn't complement your pale vintage look, not that it mattered to him, but you grew conscious.

"Where are you taking me?" you strengthen your voice, trying to seem more confident than you really are.

He tucks both of his hands inside his pockets. "Just pretend I'm either Jungkook or Mr. Kim, whoever you wanna go on a date with."

Imagining Jungkook with a sheepish bunny-like smile, your heart starts to melt and it was vivid in your cheeks.

"See, you're already flustering."

"No, I'm not. Get on with your plan." It was obvious but you chose to deny it, Jimin should be the last person on earth to see you flustered. "Where are you taking me?"

"There's a photography exhibit down the street I'd like to take you in. Wanna eat first?"

His eyes can't help but wander around your body, and you'd be blind to not notice what he was doing.

"Is there something wrong with I'm wearing?" The loud children playing by park almost made your voice inaudible.

"Nope, it's amazing. You look beautiful, y/n," his pitch ascends, tweaking your ears.

You diminish your mind from his compliment, it's all an act. You know he's only doing this to make you feel something which what everything is about. You look away from him, distracting yourself with the pigeons nearby, hoping it would stop your blood from rushing to your face. Jimin takes your hand, intertwining it with his soft palm. Your body hitches and he only held on tighter.

"I know a cafe."

You didn't give him an answer to decide, but he was already pulling you towards a corner. It would've been an unbearable silence if you weren't in public. You hoped he would not notice how your skin has gone damp, tensed by the moment his warm soft fingers made contact with yours. Excitement awakens within you, an unfamiliar emotion.

The moment you saw him sitting on the bench waiting for you, it already felt like a poem waiting to be written. You could already write a hundred words just describing how he looked today. It isn't love, it's just attraction.

He opens the entrance to a cafe — you were too distracted to read the name. You lose contact with his hand as he sits by the counter and so did you. A middle-aged woman with a forced grin awaits on the other side of the counter.

"I'd have a chocolate milkshake," you tell Jimin, shyness was completely obvious in your voice.

"Just one chocolate milkshake," Jimin tells the waiter, his gaze focused on you.

Jenna — written on her name tag — gives a forced lift to her cheeks, proceeding to the kitchen behind. You were in the midst of asking him why he only ordered for himself, but you jumped when you hear his camera click, a flash directed towards your way.

"Ugh, what's wrong with you?"

"To make it last longer," Jimin mumbles, you ignore.

You shouldn't have agreed to this. You shouldn't have rejected Sana's offer to review at the library. You shouldn't have let Jimin take control of the day. Because ever since the moment you arrived in your carefully picked clothes, your mind never acted straight. Never in your five years of high school have you ever felt so embarrassed and timid.

Why isn't he talking? Did I look stupid in the last photo? How many chapters could I have reviewed by now if I stayed home?

Jenna slams the glass of chocolate shake on the counter. You and Jimin didn't bother to react, too busy thinking of what exactly is this tension between the both of you. Jimin takes two straws, slowly inserting them on the mushy drink. He leans forward on his elbow rested against the cold edge of the table, facing sidewards to look at you better. You looked cute when you're ignoring his gaze, and for a second, he forgot the hole in his heart. It only felt stronger the moment you side-eyed him.

"What?" you mutter, unaware of your effect on him.

After a small sip, his eyes widened when he gulped. "It's good, c'mon, try it."

His bottom lip glistens, you weren't even sure why you caught that detail on his face. With a scrutinizing look from him, the moment didn't grow comfortable for you. The longer you stayed with him, the harder it is you try to stop your stomach from doing unnecessary turns.

You sigh. This is not gonna get better if you keep acting like a shy high school girl — well, you are a shy high school girl, but that's never the case with Jimin. He was your friend, a very close friend. With a lump swallowed in your throat, you approached the elephant in the room.

"Jimin," you breathe. "This is weird. I don't even kno-"

"I'll stop you there. You're having butterflies in your stomach, aren't you?" He licks his lip, excited to hear your answer.

"No. No, I'm not having butterflies in my stomach." You raise your chin.

He snickers. "You're supposed to feel it, not deny it. You're such an amateur. Your writing's not gonna get better if you keep being subjective. You feel flustered like the other girls in high school on a date, accept it."

He's making sense and you hate it. But at least it has been addressed. He knows what you're feeling and you don't have to keep it a secret. Defeated, you sigh. You regained your composure which you might have lost by the moment he smiled at you at the bench.

"You take Seulgi here often?" Your lips trembled in the slightest way before taking a sip from your straw.

Jimin chokes on his own breath. "What? You're asking about my ex on our date?"

An intense heat builds upon you, beading of sweat forms on your nape. Our date, two words that repeated like a broken vinyl in your head. Maybe it was being numb for years that everything right now starts to feel like everything. It's not the same emotions you feel when you wrote those drafts, it's something else you can't put your tongue on.

You purse your lips, swallowing the cold drink. "What do we even talk about?" you giggle out.

He didn't take any second to think, Jimin already had something in mind. His hand touches the glass of the drink, finger rubbing the small drips of water on its sides. There isn't something that he's doing that you weren't noticing. You're quite aware that he was just as observant as you by the way he hasn't taken his eyes off you since you sat down.

"Why do you write?" He lifts the glass off the table, bringing it close to him and taking a sip while he waits for your answer.

Well, it's a simple reason. It's all you know, it's all you ever do. Your second grade teacher was quite an amazing narrator. You remember closing your eyes to her melodic voice as she describes the dragon's tower: red bricks stand over a thousand pieces, to the sky it went and in the cloud it hid, scared to be found by a knight who wanted nothing but to save it. It was a remnant of your almost forgotten childhood, since then you only wanted to seek more of those words. A flaming desire sparked in you, that is to write a picture.

"You ever had that feeling like flying when you read something? It's so vibrant and you could almost feel it take you places." You bit your lip, eyes closing to pull your words together. "I want people to feel what I feel, what I see, what I know. To get them to react the way I want them to, but learn something I never knew I wrote." You open your eyes to see him deeply absorbed in your explanation. "You probably don't even get it," you sigh.

"No, I totally get it. I understand."  He places the drink back to its wet ring-like mark on the table. "That's exactly how I feel about photography. I want people to see the way I view things, my focal point in life. With photography, I can get them to look at things in a specific perspective."

You were unconscious of the smooth smile that grew on your lips. All this time, you thought you knew Jimin well, but this only opened a door to him. For five years, you've always been ignorant of what others do and what others feel. It felt like a waste of years, the only thing you learned about in high school was Sana's love for body sprays and now, Jimin's reason for photography.

Your throat goes dry, not having anything to say. Though you had a lot in mind, how his eyes shined bright when he enthusiastically praised what he loves. Regret screams inside you, how could I let five years pass by so quickly. There was so much to learn and so much to write, it's a disappointment you've only written for essays and Min Yoongi.

You scoot towards the drink, trying to catch the straw with your lips while your eyes are darted on Jimin. Slurping impulsively, you caught Jimin's face turn into a shock.

"Don't finish our drink!" He dives in with you, sipping much more intensely than you.

You slid off to laugh, a small amount of chocolate drapes on your bottom lip but you were fast enough to catch it with your finger. You catch the straw again, trying to compete with Jimin. The proximity between you was the last thing in your mind, you only cared about getting more milkshake than Jimin who seem to fall behind your level.

You slam your fist on the table after finishing the drink and Jimin leans away to laugh, already accepting his lost. "I win!" you cheer, holding the biggest smile.

Jimin cocks his head, stretching out his hand for a handshake. With a graceful pump, he exhales a tired huff from laughing too hard. "I guess that's one thing you're good at," his lips curved, forming a soft wrinkle on his right cheek. "Sucking."

You snort. "You're also good at finishing early." Earning a chuckle from him, your brow raised.

"How would you know? You never tried me."

You inhale silently, not wanting him to be aware of your reaction. What a stupid comeback. He stands from his seat, pulling his black leather wallet from his back pocket.

"Let's split it," you tell him immediately, hand already reaching for your purse.

"Hey, no. This one's on me. I invited you remember?" He was already placing a bill on the table which Jenna quickly approached, leaving a tip for her that made her smile a little different than earlier.

Your skin turns moist as the both of you walk out the cafe, heat raking against your skin. He returns his hand in yours, so casually it felt so real. He's got a hold of your fingers and he does it so well, it didn't feel foreign, like your hand has somehow molded in there and made its home.

You follow his direction, not bothering to speak since you were afraid your words would only fail you. Silence doesn't seem to bother Jimin as much as it bothers you, he only focused on his way to the exhibit and how your hand felt wrapped in his. Not being able to endure it any longer, you dared to speak.

"I'll pay you back, I promise."

His head didn't turn, and his mouth didn't open. Instead, his thumb rubs over yours. It was a movement so subtle, yet electricity bursts under your skin. You drift your focus on your footsteps, refusing to step on a crack making your phase noticeable to Jimin. You fall a little behind from him, but the game you're playing with your feet felt so serious at the moment. Jimin eyes you, then to your feet, figuring out what the hell you were trying to do. Thinning the space between his brows, he pulls you close with a tight grip on your hand.

"We're here," strictly he says.

A narrow door towers in front of you, and Jimin pulls you inside. Like a normal exhibit, walls were white, exaggerating the black and white photos hanging around them. Strangers inside could easily be counted, scattered around every corner of the room.

"They're all by Ash Park, a film photographer," he states, leading you to the left side to showcase the first picture.

In a golden frame, a pale girl bends to play ball with children much shorter than her in an alleyway. Jimin finds interest in your face, clearing his throat to begin his explanation. You ignore the description pasted on the wall beside it, letting Jimin do the work.

"That's in Cuba. That girl there is an actress, not so popular though. She and Ash are very close friends, if not more than that."

Your brows quirked up, lips pouting with the information given. "Bet your ass they are."

He breathes a laugh before walking to the next frame, and you follow.

"Did you go here already?" you asked, arms crossed against your chest and eyes pinned on the picture.

The same girl sits at the end of the bed, winking at the camera. Her hands politely placed on her thighs with legs crossed. Even in a colorless picture, her personality can be vibrantly seen. She was simply beautiful in her lacy dress.

You turn to Jimin who was staring right at you, his head quickly turning to the photo.

"I've been here with Taehyung," he answers. "About the picture, it's the same girl obviously. I think it's exquisitely symmetrical. Just amazing how aesthetic she looked sitting so proper on the bed. She's like the center of everything in that hotel room, I think that's what Ash is on about."

"I love your depiction, it's making me fall in love," you thin your lips, "with the picture, of course."

Jimin huffs. "Just the picture? Look at her, she's beautiful. He's clearly in love with her. I could hear her laugh from this picture, it's making me fall in love with her too."

"What's her name?"

"Jinri."

You've always thought that words are the only thing that can move a person, but Jinri's smile shines through the printed material. In an unexplainable way, you could feel the chemistry built within the photographer and the model, it is way beyond words. Again, Jimin explains another picture and always find yourself so absorbed within his way of interpretation. And aside from that, whenever your eyes look upon him, he already had his on you.

It goes on for a while, then you found your favorite piece. Jinri reading a book while her body rests on the glass of a store's window. Surrounded by a busy street, it seemed scripted. Nonetheless, it was still beautiful.

"This is my favorite," Jimin says.

"No way, I was just debating about that." Your eyes wandered around the picture, trying to pick up more details.

Jimin grins in astonishment. "It reminds me of a specific picture I took back in eighth grade. Do you remember the book fair?"

"Are you kidding? That's where we met."

"Yeah. That's the day I first brought my camera to school. I was playing around with the lens, trying out different stuff, and then I accidentally took a picture of this girl reading a book. And when I looked at it, the camera focused on her and the rest of the crowd was a blur."

"Do I know her?"

Jimin gulps. "No, probably not. From what I heard, she transferred schools the same year. It's my favorite though, I even printed it out."

"Really? Let me se-"

"It's in my Science notebook. I'll show you some other time."

The rest of the day continued, Jimin asking if you wanted to eat again which you wasted no second to say yes to. You eventually found out about Jimin's hatred towards ketchup. And when you got home, unopened books greeted you from your desk. However, regret didn't knock on your door that night, you were only left smiling while highlighting half of the pages.

But you weren't supposed to be thinking of Jimin like that, knowing the fact that you were supposed to imagine Jungkook during that date. It was bothersome that Jungkook never even crossed your mind today.

Sana's menacing eyes scanned you from head to toe, not believing the lie you had just told her. Your words completely stopping her from reviewing the Lush soap in her hand. Placing the glittery soap back to its container, she minimizes the gap between your bodies.

"I know damn well when you're lying, y/n. You did not review with Park Jimin." Your chest heaved at the mention of his name and you hope Sana didn't notice.

But of course, she's much like you. Quite the observant type, that's why she's your best friend. Years of observing and chattering about high school drama in the cafeteria would be useless if she didn't notice that small body language.

Lately, you keep finding yourself in situations you regret going to. Again, you were supposed to be diving deeper into your calculus reviewer, which you failed to finish last night, but to make up for rejecting Sana's offer to review at the library a day ago, you let her drag you to the mall. You wish you can just gauge your eyes out to make it impossible for Sana to read them.

She releases a breath, the mint chocolate ice cream she had from earlier traveling to your nose. "Please tell me you used a condom."

You slap her shoulder, eyes widening while she solemnly awaits your response. "What's wrong with you? That's the last thing on my list." Immediately regretting your last sentence, you shut your eyes tightly. "I mean it's not on my list." Fuck.

"You're risking failing the exams for a date, that's very unlikely of you."

Not wanting to look at her much longer, you drew your eyes to the bath bombs placed on the wooden table, hands skimming through their rough texture.

"We did not date. We had to do our assignments for the school pub," you clarify, emphasizing every word clearly.

Sana's body remains to face you, ignoring her favorite shimmery body products lying on the shelf beside her. "Last time I heard that was on Fifteen and Pregnant. Was it missionary? Come on, tell me the details."

"Holy shit, quit it! I didn't have sex with Jimin!" You heard every head turning to face you, looks of disgust thrown towards your way.

"Oh, really?" A deep voice sneaks behind you, making you place the lavender bath bomb back to its place. Taehyung blinks like a dumbfounded child, contrasting his deep voice from earlier. His height towers over you and Sana who was just as confused as you are.

"Excuse me? Is it normal for nerds to be such a creep all the time?" You felt Sana nod from beside you with her arms crossed on her chest.

"What? I'm not a nerd. You're a nerd," he points to Sana, "you too."

"Why are you here anyway? This is Lush not Gamestop."

His nose crinkled. "Just a quick FYI, there's a difference between geeks and nerds. And I am not any of those." Placing a hand in the middle of his chest, he looks you deeper.

You smirk, turning to Sana. "Nerd."

"Are you buying lotion for your boyfriend? Is that why you're here?" Sana curves a corner of her lips, proud of what she had said.

"No, I'm here to buy wax for your Mom. You got any suggestions?" retaliated Taehyung, cocking a head towards Sana. "I happen to pass by and I heard you talking about fucking Jimin. I was intrigued."

"Ew, no. She was joking," you reply, rolling your eyes to Sana.

"Oh, I know. He wouldn't be talking with Seulgi if you guys did... you know?" He raises a brow, and you furrowed yours, trying to pretend that you don't understand.

The mention of Seulgi's name struck a chord in you. You knew it was physically impossible for your blood to boil, but it's the right way to describe it. Guessing it's only the hatred for Sana and Taehyung teasing you about Jimin, somehow deep inside you were envious of Seulgi. It was probably the reason Jimin was hard to be seen today, and you're not denying that you did expect him to come talk with you.

"He was?" you ask with a tiny voice, unaware that you just said it.

"I saw them during lunchtime, didn't you?" Taehyung replies sternly, having no intention to make fun of your reaction.

"Right. Yeah, I saw them," you lie quickly, biting your lip afterwards.

Sana looks at you from your side, pursing her lips and trying her best to not say the wrong thing. It was her first time to see you unreadable. Your emotions were new and something she's never encountered before throughout years of knowing you. She's only used to comforting you about a failed quiz, or a scolding from Mrs. Cruz when you can't pronounce Desafortunadamente properly. But she can guess it, jealousy and confusion isn't something new to her. However, it's still absurd to see those emotions printed on your face.

Sana ended up buying a strawberry chapstick, and Taehyung had left before you knew it. She insists to take you home for unknown reasons, it was unusual of her to do so. And you throw yourself on the bed, still with your hot sweater on, careless if you start to smell or not.

You push your head onto the soft fabric of your pillow, trying to take your mind off of your reviewer and the unresolved teenage drama, ew. Now all of your actions are revealing their consequences, your mind falling into a pit of regret. Your crush on Jimin can't come back now, not before the exam at least. You have no strength to fight all that emotions, you should only have one thing in your head and it should be Chapter 8: DNA Base Pairs.

Screaming into the pillow, your Dad comes walking to your door, knocking passively and asking if you were doing okay which you stuttered a yes to. You release an exasperated sigh when you hear him walk back downstairs, continuing his favorite ESPN show.

You would think that a long exhausting day would actually exhaust you, but for some dumb reason, you got up from your bed and sat behind your desk. With a palpitating heart, your eyes wander around the messy table, looking for some sort of entertainment.

I should sleep, like right now. It was a school night, and staying up to decide whether to watch a RomCom movie or to write stresses you more than it should. For the mean time, fuck DNA Base Pairs and calculus, life is now and you're watching 50 First Dates for the seventh time.

The light emitting from the crevice below your door and the floor dims down a few moments ago, and your Dad was no longer cheering for a Christiano Ronaldo rerun. The night has gone quicker than you thought, it was already twelve o'clock sharp, and your eyes are not weighing down at least one bit. They remain full and in awe whenever Drew Barrymore is shown on screen.

Your jump out of your skin when you heard a soft clonk from outside your window, thinking it would just be a twig falling down a tree, you ignore. But they continued for three more times, and twigs falling down during a serene quiet night would be strange. If it was windy outside, you would've heard its gush.

You pause the movie on your laptop screen, waiting for another sound. And then you heard three more knocks. Your head follows the sound. You've never felt more overly excited in your life, stomach jumping in anticipation.

Jimin smiles through the window, relieved that you haven't gone deaf. He waves, then points towards the lock on your window. You nod, hopping out of your seat to unlock it. You hear him sigh, throwing his bag inside your room.

"What are you doing here? Did you get in trouble?"

Jimin's petite body slides right in with no problem, huffing in front of you after his success. He looks to your door then back at you, sweat rolling against the frame of his face.

"You wanna wake your parents? Can you chill for a sec," he whispers, walking towards the end of your bed and dropping on the floor.

While you were busy struggling to pull down the window, Jimin drags his bag to get his camera. Before you could flop beside him, the camera flashes your face. Your lips remain thin, too lazy to react. Scratching the back of your ear, you sit beside him.

"Seriously, how'd you get here in the middle of the night?" you ask, hugging your legs while your fingers tug on the fabric of your jeans.

Jimin spreads his legs, slouching on the wood behind him. He turns the camera off before seeing the picture, his focus already on you. "I stole my brother's car."

"And for what reason?"

"I can't sleep," his head hits the hard material as he turns to see you closer and you cringed for him, "I didn't see you at school today, why's that?"

"Sana dragged me to the mall right after my Spanish class. As for lunch break, I finished my Social Studies essay in the library."

"You could have told me at least. I was waiting for you during lunch."

"No, you weren't," you say quickly, "you were with Seulgi."

Jimin's head rises from its comfort, tilting in confusion. "Why would I be with her?"

You gulp, preparing to say the next lines without jealousy interfering in them. "Taehyung told me so. I ran to him at the mall."

He laughs, making you nervous. His head falls back again, bringing his hand on his stomach. "He probably saw us in the hallway. I did talk to her."

You bit your lip, confused why you expected a different answer from him. Your emotions remain unsolved.

"She wanted to get her bracelet back. She left it in my room before we broke up, but that's about it."

Contentment calms your nerve. He leans closer, and his familiar scent once again enters your nostrils, you exhale it away. "So, I came here uh... I feel like I needed someone to talk to."

"Taehyung's a choice," you reply, closing your eyes to lessen the excitement.

"His parents are actually going through a divorce right now, I don't want to add to his problems," he lets go of a long sigh, body falling to your side.

You lean backwards to make him feel more comfortable, watching his eyes close gently. "You should be there for him," you suggest in a soft tone.

"When I saw her earlier, I didn't want to approach her. I was confused when she walked to me," he said, disregarding your reply. "I feel guilty. I feel like I shouldn't be over her so quickly, I mean... I'm not over her, it's just that I feel better than how she's doing."

You listen to the sound of his calm breathing, and his hoarse voice that tried its best to get lower than it already is.

"When I talked about following her to college, I only said it to feel like I'm doing what I should as her boyfriend. I've always felt obligated around her and that's not how it should go. I love her but it's not the kind of love where everything falls into place." Jimin groans, lifting his body off you.

He ruffles his hair, bending his legs upwards to hug them, copying your position.

"I know it sounded like I'm seeking for perfect love, I'm not. I know relationships have their struggles, but my love for her isn't strong enough to keep it going. She broke up with me, but I feel like I was just waiting for her to."

"You children are so in love with the word 'love'." You dig your chin in between your knees.

"Y/n, it's love whether it's weak or strong. It's love for what I knew love to be. But I love her in a way I couldn't do things for myself, not that she forced me to, I just felt obligated to do so."

"Then don't do it. She'll still love you back even if you don't follow her to college."

"Do I sound stupid?"

You lift your chin to look at him, his eyes already angled towards you. "Honestly? Not really. You're in the midst of things, you can laugh about it later if it's stupid, but it's how you feel and you shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"Exactly, so why are you hating on high school romance again?"

You laugh. "I might need a little more convincing from you."

Your response was what he wanted to hear. There's more comfort in your hand and he realized that the moment he have let go of it during the day at the exhibition. He wants to do this with you, more than ever.

"Do you want to get some KFC?" he asks.

"Are you kidding? It's 12AM!"

"Do stomachs close when it's midnight? Come on, I'm really craving for some zinger right now. And we'll be back before your parents even know it," he insists. "Do something adventurous for once, high school is ending and all you can tell your grandkids about it is homework."

You roll your eyes. "I really can't," smacking your lips, "say no to that."

Jimin wastes no time in pulling you towards the window, but you shake his hand off to take your dirty sweater off, revealing your sky blue smocked bodice cami top. Jimin ravels his eyes on your body, a lump forming inside his throat.

"Move," you tease, pushing him towards the window. Thank God, it was humid outside, you wouldn't have survived with just a sleeveless top.

The next thing you know, Jimin was singing at the top of his lungs to What Lovers Do and with such a falsetto voice, you sang along as well. Looking to your side was when you realized how great the city lights compliment Jimin's smile, and everything felt so fixed, you weren't worried about getting caught nor falling asleep in class tomorrow, it just felt so right and perfect.

This was something based on novels you read as a middle schooler, and you were foolish to never believe in any of it. Some quotes start to make sense, everything was a hazy dream and no words can ever define how extraordinary Jimin's eyes looked as they twinkle inside the dark vehicle.

Jimin had no other thoughts than enjoying the moment with you, in this year is where it all ends and everything starts. Graduation was nearing and the only thing making perfect sense for him was that soft beam you have while you bob your head to the beat. Bokeh was something that he only sees in pictures, but he dies right the moment you smiled at him and you were surrounded by them.

He makes a turn, almost forgetting that you were here to eat with him. As soon as the both of you arrive inside, Jimin runs to the counter to place the orders.

You sit near the entrance, chin resting on your palm while you wait for Jimin to finish. The girl in the counter seems to be around your age, and she looks at Jimin with so much happiness in your eyes. You giggle. Jimin leans on the counter, silently talking with the girl to which she keeps responding with a laugh.

Jimin sits across you, setting the food on the table. His hand immediately grabbing his zinger. You watch him take the first bite while you unwrap yours, pretending to be as hungry as he was.

"How do you do that? Flirt all over the place?" You point your sandwich towards Jimin whose cheeks are bulging.

He swallows, eyes shutting to savor the satisfaction. "Oh, I'm not flirting. She was." He turns his head to the girl with a wide smile, then to you. "How do you do that? Hate on something you've never felt nor experienced?"

"Hm," resting your arms on the table, "I don't actually hate it anymore. This thing that we're doing, teaching me what people in love do, it's kinda fascinating."

His gaze alternates to you and his food. "There's more to this. This is what friends do, but what Seulgi and I did was so much more than just this."

You look down, taking a bite to ignore the weird emotion forming inside you.

"I mean what couples do. I know you're pretending I'm Jungkook and that's the thing, friends are great companion but when it's the person you love, time feels faster."

"I'm not actually pretending you're Jungkook," you confess, and you felt him lose his composure but he was quick enough to take it back.

"You seem to smile at me like I'm somebody else."

"I smile at you just fine," you take a sip of the Sprite beside your tray. "Anyways, do you already have something to send Yoongi?"

He nods. "Already took my masterpiece."

You roll your eyes. "Wish I could say the same. Exams are two days from now and I just gave up reviewing."

"I could study with you, I'll come over tomorrow."

"How is that gonna help me review?"

"I'm like the best study buddy ever. Have you written anything yet?"

You huff in disbelief. "No, inspiration's not coming to me."

Jimin moves away, mouth agape. "Y/n, look at me," and you did more than you already were, "I'm all the inspiration you need. Write something about how I smell good or how my eyes look when I talk, girls love to read that shit."

"First of all, you smell like every rotten fruits combined. Second, no. That's not what feature writing is about, I'm not gonna turn it into a John Green novel."

"Turn it into an erotica, let Yoongi jack off to it before rejecting it."

You snort, cheeks turning red. "You think he jerks off to erotica?" you ask in between laughs.

"I did, Fifty Shades of Grey chapter thirty-nine." He leans back, waiting for your reaction. "It was worth a wet page."

"I do not need details. Jimin, what the fuck?"

He raises his brows, chewing on his fries. Eating has never been more attractive. He smirks. "Hurry up eating." Jimin cleans his mouth with a tissue, slamming his fist on the table to rush you.

"Jesus, you wanted me to eat," you reply with your mouth full, crumpling the wrapper to slip it inside the empty cup.

The both of you leaves the place laughing, pushing each other on the way to his car — brother's car in the dark and empty parking lot. It was just the crickets, moderate hums of cars passing by, and your laughs, play fighting with each other. Before the car splits the both of you, Jimin pulls you to remain behind the vehicle.

"What?" He holds your arm in a careful manner, calming down from his giggles.

"I've never done this before," Jimin leads you to the driver's side, opening the door to reach for the radio. Leaving the car door open, Linger by The Cranberries made its way to your ears.

You feel your neck sets afire, you swear they've turned a bright pink that roamed to your cheeks. With wide eyes, questioning Jimin's actions. "You're not turning this into a coming of age film, are you?"

His palms glide to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Thank goodness the lot was empty, but you doubted maybe the girl Jimin was flirting with earlier can somehow see your bodies ridiculously swaying. That's the least of your worries, because Jimin's hands was electricity to your exposed skin. You decide to wrap your arms around his neck, not wanting to make it any more awkward and just going with the flow.

He blinks at you. "Yes, we certainly are." He purses his lips, you can only look.

Besides your swelling heart, your lips shake trying to suppress its cavernous grin. "So, this is what corny couples do?"

Jimin exhales through his nostrils, taking your hand to extend it to the side while he hugs you closer. "No, no. This is what we do, y/n."

You couldn't comprehend what he said, disregarding it by burying your head deep into his chest, inhaling his scent like making a memory, he does the same by digging his nose into your hair. You close your eyes to concentrate on the beat of his heart, just as fast as yours and synchronized perfectly.

"I've never done this before," he repeats and he feels you nod. "Have you?"

"No," you tell his chest. "Why would you think I've done it?"

His hot breath rolls on your scalp, enjoying the smell of your papaya shampoo. It goes on for a while, steady breathing no matter how fast both of your hearts rush. Then he lets go, a part of you already missing the feeling of his chest against your cheek.

"Can I just..." Jimin breaks, ignoring your question, his hand that used to intertwine yours holds your cheek, his grasp on your waist tightening. Your eyes were still, and he watches as though they were incomparable even when they're closed.

In a sharp push from behind you, fingers extending to push you further to his groin. Your eyes flutter open as his lips connect with yours. You pull away and you catch Jimin's eyes close, slowly opening them again.

"I'm sorry." He moves away, feeling horrible for just kissing you like that. Before he enters the car, you tug his arm, framing his face with your hands to pull him again back to your lips. He rakes his fingers on your back, just a little above your ass.

Feeling shy, the movement of your lips were subtle. But Jimin just devoured them, and you followed his sloppy kiss. He exhales heavily it sounded like a grunt, smiling in between. You wrap around him again, and he lifts his fingers to your nape. Pushing you towards the car, he jerks his hip and so did you, unfamiliar heat pooling between your thighs.

You thrust against him again, he grips you waist tighter only to pull away.

"You need to stop that," he purrs, giving you one last peck.

You followed his body, but he signals you to stop. Confused, you went to the other side and processed what he was trying to do. The kiss was too good to regret, it felt like an achievement rather. And the ride back to your house was unsatisfying, you didn't want to go home, you only wanted more. But Jimin leaves the moment he takes his bag, silence wrapping every second. No words exchanged after he stopped you from kissing him again, fazing you the whole night.

You spent your day memorizing at school, just happy that the teachers gave enough free time to let their students study for the upcoming exams. Except of course for Mrs. Cruz who went about Spanish adverbs.

Tuesday was boring, well, a little. It would've been extremely boring if the kiss last night didn't happen. Aside from flipping pages in the library while Sana sits comfortably beside you, your mind wanders why the fuck - why the fuck Jimin kissed you then stopped you. You poke Sana, intending to tell her about it, it doesn't matter if she can help, but she shakes your hand away and made a hissing noise. Slouching in your seat, you pick up your notes again, rereading each sentences.

Once. Twice. Thrice. Trying to get the definition of protein inside your head, but you're far from getting there when footsteps behind you felt closer. Please don't be him. But of course, destiny seems to love the idea of you being miserable.

"We need to talk," Jimin says right when you stand to face him, holding a brown teddy bear in his hand.

"No, dingus. She's with me," Sana protests, putting down her trig notebook.

"Actually, we need to really talk. Like really need to really talk, you know?" you reply, leaving your seat while Sana frowns.

Sana was only two steps away, yet Jimin continued with his statement.

"About the kiss," he begins. "I'm really sorry, I didn't know what I was doing. I shouldn't have done it."

"Right," you lie. "I also didn't know what I was doing. I was just thinking of Jungkook and I dived right in, I'm such an idiot. It was like one in the morning, I was hallucinating." You fake a giggle and Jimin furrows his brows.

"You were thinking of Jungkook?" he mutters, almost inaudibly. "I mean, right. Yeah, you're thinking of Jungkook, I should know ha ha."

"Let's just forget about it. It's dumb." You nod your head, and he bites his lip trying to ignore your gaze. "Is that for Seulgi?" Pointing towards the medium stuff toy, and he lifts it while scratching his nape.

"Nope, this is actually for you," he extends the toy forward and you uncertainly accept. "Are we still on tonight? You know? About the studying thing?"

You grit your teeth, pushing your thumbs roughly on the bear's stomach. "Of course, why wouldn't we be? Let's just forget about that thing last night, uhm... See you at five?"

Jimin finds you unbelievable, he couldn't even get over about the kiss ever since this morning but here you were, someone who's never been kissed before being so casual.

"Five it is." His lids drop, ignoring the prickly feeling as he walks away.

You release a huff, staring at the bear while Sana watches you with her mouth wide open.

"Wow, you're actually dating him."

You turn over to see her face, rolling your eyes. "Last thing on my list, okay?"

She shrugs.

It wasn't long 'till the sun sets, you were already in your pj's and this time, you wore a tight shirt to prevent Jimin from seeing your boring bra straps. You weren't even preparing the study materials, you were just sitting on the couch, tensed and dense, with ears waiting for the doorbell to finally ring.

Bracing yourself, you stare at the bear placed on the other side of the couch and it looks as though it's speaking right back at you. The doorbell rings, and you run to the door as fast as you could but you stopped before opening it, arguing with yourself whether to smile or not, pretending like you don't care that he's here.

"Hey," he clears his throat, "are you ready?"

"For what?"

He grins at your stupid question. "To study? What else are we gonna do?"

You shake your head, throwing your thoughts in a bin as you move away from the door, leaving him to close it. The heat beneath your thighs from your seat earlier comforts you, you're home and there's nothing to be nervous about — except you're home alone with Jimin and you have every reason to be nervous.

"What do study buddies do? I'm not really a fan of company," you confess as if he doesn't know yet.

"I don't know. I've never done it either." He laughs. "Let's just ask each other questions."

You nod, watching him sit a foot apart from you, positioning his black bag next to the couch.

"Oh," he expressed, looking at his gift that lies comfortably next to him. "Hello."

You place your thick Biology book on top of your lap, searching for questions you could ask him. "You ready?"

"When you are." He waits, rubbing his knee.

Fuck, there really was this stupid tension that won't go away even if you try. You breathe unsteadily, hoping your voice won't crack.

"What's a codon?"

He clicks his tongue. "It's a sequence of three nucleotides that corresponds to an amino acid. A full set of codons is called a genetic code." His voice was suave, completely unaware of your thoughts.

"Great, that's great. That's more than what a blank would need. Next question."

He nods.

"What's a DNA made up of?"

"Phosphate, 5-carbon sugar, and nitrogenous bases."

"Yes. Are you sure you need to review?"

"Yeah, it's just two questions I got right."

"Fine. What kind of bonds hold together the nucleotides within one one strand?"

"Special covalent bonds called phosphodiester bonds. Is that correct?"

"Yeah. This is unfair, you're in a science club."

"It's not just a science club. It's the Curious Minds Club."

You groan. "I was trying to forget that stupid name."

"Say what, Ms. Secretary of Mr. Darcy Fan Club."

"That's not the name of our club! It's Diverse Readers Literary Group."

"Oh, I forgot. You know why I forgot? It's boring."

"Dee-Ar-El-Gee. Sounds more professional than Curious Minds, it's like you're hosting a Disney show."

"DRLG? Sounds like a social worker group."

"Whatever. Your tiny brain won't understand."

He steals the book from your lap, flipping to a page you've never seen before. "What kind of bonds hold together the nucleotides within one strand?"

"Shit. Hydrogen bonds?"

"See? You got this. How many bonds do the nirogenous bases form?"

"A and T form 2... uh... hydrogen bonds while C and G form 3."

"You're just as qualified for the Curious Minds Club."

"Oh, no."

He laughs, dismissing your thoughts away. You find yourself breathing properly around him, forgetting the taste of his lips.

"Next question," he snaps his fingers, "how well do I kiss?"

You look at him for the first time in a while, his legs on the couch before you could even scold him for it. He has his arms on top of the couch, right above you. "Seriously?" was all you could say.

"Quick survey." You weren't kidding but it sounded like he was, though he anticipates your answer.

"It was great," you whisper, remembering it all again. How you thrusted onto him, tasting his sweet lips from the remnants of sprite, and how his smell didn't bother you a single bit.

"Just great?"

He shifts closer, and you turn your direction in front. "What do you expect me to say?"

"Did you really think of Jungkook?" You heard the tussle in his tone.

"Mhm," you recline. "Didn't you think about Seulgi?"

He laughs through his nostrils, the air gushing to your cheek. "Why would I think of her? I was kissing you. God, how oblivious can you get?"

"Well, maybe because you stopped me? You realized I'm not her so you stopped me."

It took a moment before he responded. "I didn't want you to stop. I just can't take you there."

"Take me where? Look, it's okay if you were thinking of Seulg-"

"My God, y/n. I was trying to control myself!"

"From what?"

"From fucking you," he half-yells.

There it was again, the fire building in you. Why did he have to bring this up again? You were close to forgetting everything - err, at least some of it.

"Y/n, I'm sorry if you felt like I was rejecting you. I can never do that." He scoots again. "Say something."

You had no clue what words you were trying to search for, all you wanted was to feel his lips on yours again. What do they taste like without the sweet drink lingering? How would it feel to kiss him in private? To kiss him in a comfortable place, somewhere no one can interfere?

There's only one way to find out.

"Then prove it."

He thinks for a moment before attaching his lips onto yours once again. It was like a taste you've been craving, and having his lips on yours again felt ecstatic. Without the drink, his lips tasted just the same, sweet and satisfying. He skims a hand to your thigh, while the other holds your nape. God bless the teenage hormones!

He pulls away, breathing raggedly. "On top of me." He taps your thigh and you oblige, sitting on his lap and returning your lips to his.

The kiss was running out, you want more. You want to feel more than just a kiss, it was insatiable. His sweatpants did no justice in hiding his hardening cock, softly poking on your entrance. But he kept his hands on your waist, trying his best not to grab your ass. You grunt, finally rolling your hips to feel that friction you've been needing.

He fails at controlling himself after hearing the noise you made, thrusting upwards to get the satisfaction he needed. His hand stops before the curved of your breast, needing an affirmation from you. For the mean time, he was entertaining himself by playing with your tongue. You earn a groan from him when you rub your pussy against the outline of his cock, he pulls away again to stare at his crotch, biting his lip.

"Did I do anything wrong?" you ask with so much worry.

"No, I just... I won't be able to stop if you keep doing that."

"Jimin, please," you beg, trailing his hands to your waiting breasts, moaning while you continuously rub yourself on him.

He watches you get yourself off with hooded eyes, his mouth open as he releases quiet moans himself. "You're doing so well, y/n, fuck." He pulls you again, biting your lower lip as he inserts one of his hand in your shirt, lifting your bra to pinch a nipple.

You were nearing your climax, and Jimin just kept watching without intention to take his clothes off. Slowing down, Jimin lifts your shirt right above your breasts, licking a nipple while he gropes the other.

You release a high-pitched whine, encouraging Jimin to twitch his dick. "Woah, you could do that?"

He giggles slightly, giving you a peck on the lips. "You're so adorable."

He thrusts again, pushing you further to your orgasm. Struggling to face him, he lowers your chin with his thumb, murmuring words you couldn't decipher at the moment, but they sounded comforting and sexy. With one last hump, muffling a loud moan in Jimin's shoulder, you find it hard to look in his eyes again. You could feel yourself throb in wetness, too ashamed to get off of Jimin only to find a wet spot on his gray sweatpants.

"It's okay, baby," he whispers as you pull away, resting back on your seat.

"Are you... Did you?" you stutter, currently having a hard time finding the right question to ask him.

He didn't. You saw the tip of his cock — it looks so good — bulging through the fabric, dry and desperate for attention.

"Hey, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Nothing was fine for you, everything was embarrassing. You shouldn't have done that, you shouldn't have let your hormones get the best of you. You couldn't look him in the eyes, needing time to process your orgasm and what the hell you just did.

"I think you need to leave," you sternly command, "I need to-"

"I get it. Sorry." You regret telling him to leave because after his apology, he grabbed his things and actually left, giving you more the reason to regret everything.

The room was quiet, but you can still hear your reckless moans, wishing that the neighbors didn't hear any of it or else you're dead meat once your parents get home.  You glance at the teddy bear, immediately grabbing the soft toy to hug it.

"Why didn't you stop me?"

The proctor was Mrs. Cruz, the first to ruin your day. She walks a lot around the classroom for someone who's having back problems. From time to time, she'd have a sit behind the desk, typing slowly on her laptop keyboard. She would also readjust her thinly-framed glasses, tuck her dry dark hair behind her ear.

That's enough description of Mrs. Cruz, you're absolutely lost for words when it came to the unexpected essay. Who puts an essay in a Maths exam? Apparently, it's Mr. Uley. You've left a couple of blanks, and some were lacking solution. Mr. Uley also came up with the worst idea for an exam: right minus wrong.

Rolling the edge of the paper to find relief, you signaled to Sana who sits beside you, luckily. Leaning to the side, you slump your foot down ever so slightly so that Mrs. Cruz wouldn't notice. Sana looks at you, then to Mrs. Cruz who was busy finding a letter in her keyboard.

You mouthed, "Number six."

Sana furrows her brow, flipping through her pages to see her answer. She smiles, and you sigh inside your head, she has an answer.

"I didn't answer it," she whispers back, catching the crooked teacher's attention. Sana plays it cool, pretending to think while she rolls her pen in her fingertips.

Your world drops again, shit. You're most likely going to fail Trigonometry, and that means watching motivational videos on Youtube about blaming the education system and how it fails the students completely for being incompetent when you really just didn't study.

That was only the first exam, there were more to come. You have already lost your motivation, but you were confident to take Biology. You have all the reasons to be.

Jimin appears at the cafeteria from time to time, but you would ignore it. He was aware of how uncomfortable it have gotten between the both of you and he wasn't planning to make any move. Good thing Sana has stepped out of her diet and finally started to join you for lunch again. But it's not that much fun with Sana, because for every bite of your sandwich, she had to talk about how unhealthy it was and that you should change your diet too. But it's her or no one.

Well, Jungkook was one person to talk to other than Sana. Short talks with him aren't so bad, he was just too shy. You can't expect much from a tenth grade boy, but you've made a close friend in him.

Two days of examination felt longer than it should, and time for studying felt shorter before exams. The only thing you're having trouble with was coming up with a story. You missed Jimin and his scent, and you knew things would be better if your problem with him would just go away, but you can't bring yourself to talk to him and arrange things between your relationship. He wasn't doing any effort either to come talk with you.

Maybe it really is over. Maybe you really ruined everything. You can't blame it on your hormones itself, you wanted to cum on Jimin's lap, it was all on you. It was your choice, and you've come to the conclusion that you might have actually fallen for the school publication photographer. Shit, you tell yourself.

You shut your laptop, frustrated for not finishing yet again another draft. You decided to fill your stomach instead of forcing out a drabble, it always ends well when you're munching on something sweet. When you reached downstairs, your Dad was cheering for Christiano Ronaldo again. ESPN must've ran out of ideas and just kept showing reruns of the same game, still your dad was entertained by them even after long hours of working.

He glances at you while you open the fridge, unbothered to ask you how was school. When the door rings, you dropped the box of leftover donuts. You were a little hopeful of who it could be.

Seeing your dad remain in the same position of the couch, you proceeded to the doorstep with a glazed donut in your hand. It's not him, but it sure was a surprise to have Sana visit you during this ungodly hour for a school night. She's got her hair straightened and fixed, wearing a white skin-tight dress that stops on her mid-thighs. She looked glamoured up.

"The hell are you doing here?" you asked the blondie while the donut melts in your mouth. Your Dad turns for a second, but he goes back to watching.

"I'm picking you up, dummy. Daniel is hosting a party, you should definitely come."

"What? No, I'm busy."

"You're not busy. Exams are over so let's have a celebration. Your boyfriend's gonna be there."

"He's not my boyfriend! I couldn't care less if Jimin will be there, can you let me be?" Yes, you actually cared that Jimin will be there. You just can't get the idea of him having fun while you are left here confused and still thinking about last time.

Of course he was over it. You were just another girl he had on his dick. You thought you would've memorized Jimin's tactics by now, but you're still as naive as he knows you would be. Your lids lightened against your eyes, a tingly feeling creeping inside you but not in a good way. You could float and fall at the same time.

"Let's go to this stupid fucking party." You swore your dad's head turned, but that's the least of your worries.

You rush to your room, picking up whatever you find sexy, and immediately throwing it on. You wanted to be unexpected and spontaneous, everything Jimin thought you wouldn't be. When you wind up to the party, his mouth is gonna drop on the floor while you grind on some jock's crotch. Maybe you'll regret it in the morning, but you've already done enough of regrettable stupid things in a span of a week. What's one more stupid mistake?

Things don't always go as planned, that's why you're sitting next to Hoseok, a senior like yourself from another school, you can't remember. But the discussion was great while Sana plays Truth or Dare with the band geeks. He was in the middle of talking about his hiking with his very wealthy family, and you were in the middle of falling asleep hoping he won't notice your lids dozing off.

You've never caught a sight of Jimin in the party, and you've already come to the conclusion that Sana just said that to make you come. You hate the fact that she was successful in her attempt.

Irritation brushed your nerves, keeping you awake as you stare deeper into Hoseok's beautiful smile. You wanted to make your plan come true whether Jimin was here or not — which in this case, not.

Whoever was in charge of music, you were thankful. It was probably an indie party song, somewhere around Grouplove's genre. Now you were throwing your hands around Hoseok, his smile disappearing and turning into a smirk. You felt dirty, what has high school become?

It wasn't that one glass of tequila that made you sway in front of Hoseok, you just wanted to take your mind off of Jimin. You hiss at the thought of him, placing a soft kiss on Hoseok's neck. He pulls you close, but it didn't feel like how Jimin pulled you that night in the lot. It felt cold, Hoseok's hand wasn't homely. His scent was probably Old Spice, you used to love that scent, you could smell it from Jungkook back then.

This wasn't working. For the first time in your high school years, you've failed yourself to accomplish something — aside from your Trig exam. Hoseok wasn't grinding himself and you appreciate the chivalry. He was just sorta enjoying your sloppy tongue against his neck, and he loved the way you were cutely dancing in front of him.

It wasn't long 'till his hand trails down to your ass though, and he was gripping it tightly. Before you could react, he was moving away. And when you looked at him, he was staring behind you. A familiar hand traces your waist, and a sweet fragrance travels your nose.

"I didn't expect you to be here," Jimin speaks from behind before you turn to face him. Hoseok was gone and you didn't bother.

"Get your hand off me, Jimin." He doesn't let go, only gripping the curve of your waist tighter. He was holding a sippy cup in his other hand, moving to your front to get a better view of you.

"What did I do wrong?" In all your honestly, nothing. You pushed him away and he did well, but you just wished he could read your mind during that time like he always does.

"How was exams for you?" You drop the topic, trying not to think of your embarrassing "cumming undone" moment. He sips in the most attractive way. You remain your arms crossed.

"I think I did horrible. I'm pretty sure you did well, baby," he slurs, obviously drunk.

When his breath reached your nostrils, you can't deny the way you throbbed for his lips to just latch onto your neck.

"Don't baby me," you irked, earning a chocolate laugh from him.

"Why not?"

"Because you're drunk."

"What made you think I'm drunk? I'm very much sober." He grips you tighter, and you didn't insist, only attaching your hips to his groin. "I'm just lazy talking." He bites his lip, watching how your hips teased the front of his fly.

"Why did you leave?" you asked.

"I didn't want to, y/n. I just know you felt uncomfortable and I don't want to push you further."

There was silence before you could process his answer, nothing proper came up as he molds his hand to your ass. He was confident when he's drunk. Unlike Hoseok, it felt right.

So much caressing happened, heavy petting. And Jimin being the suspect, you can't help yourself. You just somehow found yourself tangled with him on the way upstairs looking for a room to do things seventh grade you despised. Fuck relationships and young love, right? But if Jimin could make your hormones rage like a sexually-deprived normal teenager, why not try?

Whoever Daniel was, he's one hell of a rich guy. Losing your virginity in a luxurious palace looking room sounds better than losing it in the backseat of a car after prom night. Good thing Jimin had good control of his dick, or else you would have been pumped in his brother's car at a parking lot in front of a KFC.

You pushed your thoughts away as Jimin had his fingers at the hem of your underwear, tugging it down slowly. The air fills the gap, for the first time in your life, your pussy ached out of lust. Being the patient man, he looks you in the eye for a second, waiting for a word.

"Do you really want this?" he asks, his index already forming circles around your inner thigh. "I'm so fucking hard for you right now. If you're not sure, tell me before I shove my dick right in your pussy."

You were never a fan of porn, not even a single bit. You would never waste time on horrible actors, but Jimin's words were straight out of a porn script. Yet they didn't draw you back, instead you squirmed under his fingertips.

"Please, Jimin."

He buries himself in your slit, latching his tongue against your clit.

"Oh," you exclaimed. It felt like that evening you were on Jimin's lap, except more intense and raw. There's nothing more that you want than for him to do it again.

"You like that?" he asked, but you ignored. His tongue was gentle, placing kitten licks on your sensitive bud, having you arched your back like a professional gymnast. Both his hands traveled to your breasts, groping them amidst the fabric. You place your hands on top of his, it felt romantic to hold them for reasons you can't explain. He leaves one of your breasts, feeling him near his finger in your entrance.

Your eyes widened, jumping at the sensation of something entering you. He affirms you by tightening his hold on your hands. Again, massaging your clit with his plump luscious lips.

"Baby," he whispers to your pussy, as if making a bond with it. Enjoying the curving of a single digit in your hole, he slowly eased in another one. "Are you taking it well?"

"Yes, yes. God, yes." You grope his hair, pushing him to your clit and you feel him smirk.

He adds another once you got comfortable, the sting passing away after a few more pumps. When he feels you nearing again, he pulls away. He winks as he removes his pants, kicking it down until his member sprung out.

You have seen a dick, of course. Well, if anatomy illustrations count. It looked scary, but it was Jimin. Thick and veiny is the proper way to describe it, he was right. Seulgi would never break up with him because of his dick, it wouldn't even make the list of why she had broken up with him. You stared at it for a while longer while Jimin prepares himself by putting on a show.

He positions himself in between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock in your cunt. He kisses you, muffling your moans as he eases inside, in a very gentle way as if you were a butterfly that landed on the tip of his finger. Though it was tearing you apart, Jimin finds a away to make you comfortable by rolling his tongue against your jaw. It helped only a little, and when he moved smoothly, you whimper which he takes notice of.

"Jimin, wait," with such an embarrassed tone, but he comforted you by staring into your eyes, stopping himself no matter how hard it was. "I'm sorry. I just need—"

"No worries, I'm okay. Do you want to stop or not?"

"No, just wait."

He nods, the air he emits heating your face. He stares at your teary eyes, falling more than ever. He's never seen anything so precious, if only he could take a picture of such moment, but there are things that the camera can't see, much like words can't express.

You wrap your arms around him, signaling him to continue. He doesn't disappoint, he pushed again deep inside you, releasing a shaky groan to your ear. Every thrust felt euphoric, not a single one didn't give you pleasure. You clench around him, earning a nasally exhale from him.

"Chim-ah..." you trail, clawing at the skin of his back. His face wrinkled, and it was the sexiest thing you've seen. "Feels so good."

He sped up his pace, and just like before, you were cumming around him. But he motivates you, unbothered whether he was finished or not. He sends you to your orgasm, legs clinging tighter around him. He watches you bite your lip to suppress the loud moan, still thrusting harder to ride the high.

Then he throws himself beside you, and this time you wanted to return the favor. You get on your knees which had Jimin's eyes flutter open, yet still hiding his excitement. Once you grip his length, he bites his bottom lip, trying to remain his calm. He focuses on you, propping on his elbows to see you better.

"You don't have to do this," he comforted.

"I want to. I'm no expert so please—"

"Shh, everything you do is sexy," he whispered, placing his thumb on your cheek to give you the warmth you needed.

Here goes nothing, you tell yourself. You slide a thumb over the head of his shaft before rolling your tongue from the bottom to the top. I should've watched porn more, I'm such an amateur.

Jimin saw the doubt in your eyes, giving you a sly smile before he speaks. "It feels good."

You swaddle his balls, finally pushing your lips further down his cock, softly sucking. You can taste yourself, it felt dirty doing something like it, but when you saw Jimin's eyes pinned on you while his face crunches in pleasure, you couldn't help but be motivated. You pumped the rest of his cock, latching you tongue on every visible vein which had Jimin grunting. You hollowed your cheeks while your tongue ripples inside, tickling the edges of his cock.

"Shit, y/n. You're going fucking—" he groaned, not being able to articulate proper sentences.

Then he explodes right into your mouth without a warning except for a hand in your hair, thrusting his hips upwards which made you gag. It was salty and bitter—not really your definition of swallowable. You still gulped it down, and Jimin laughs at your reaction.

Patting the space beside him, you slump down. You've always thought sweaty tangled bodies were disgusting, but it was actually comforting and warm.

That's the first night of hearing Jimin's cute little snores.

A flash to your face wakes you up, and through heavy lids you saw Jimin in his usual black pants, topless of course. You panicked this time, not because of your sleeping face but because you were just as naked.

"Jesus, Jimin! Delete that!" you demanded, the boy only grins.

"Just for me, trust me." He sits beside you on the bed, giving you a smack on the lips.

Your breath smelled like the night before, but Jimin didn't care. Having his warm body right next to yours was different, and even though your values don't really support what you were doing around him, you still wrapped them around his waist. Jimin does the same, the sound of his breathing calmed your thoughts.

You've always wondered why couples spend a lot of time together, like don't they run out of things to say? However, the silence in the room spoke something to you. No words need to be exchanged to let each other know the thoughts of the other.

Jimin gave you a ride home (with his brother's car) at four in the morning, kissing you goodbye, leaving you smiling as you walk to your room. You want to see him again, maybe even have a breakfast with him.

Wait, what? I'm not in love with him! This is just a huge crush.

You diminish the smile, proceeding to the shower to wash away his scent. Shaking your head as you think about actually falling in love. No! You're too young for that, right? Though the hot shower didn't really help you scrub the emotions off, it did give you the time to deny.

English was dry, and so were the other classes. If only Sana came today, maybe you would learn another nutrition fact about your usual chicken sandwich. Also it's not to your surprise that Jimin joins you for lunch and gave you a chocolate box. You've known him for years and he even went as far as buying a bouquet for Seulgi as a gratitude after their sexual escapades.

"You're giving me Ferrero Rocher for fucking you last night?"

He snickers, one that could make your cheeks burn. "Can you— What's wrong with you?"

"You're acting like I'm a new person. Jimin, I'm still your best friend," you say without expecting your tone to be as high.

"Babe, just open it for me." You roll your eyes at the nickname.

You lift the lid of the heart-shaped box, a note taped in the middle of the lid surprises you. Swooning a little, not trying to show Jimin your actual reaction.

“Do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my prom date?”

"No," you sighed. "I mean, no way this is real."

Jimin's gaze falls over, that look of hurt surrounding his face. "Hey, I'm not rushing you."

"This is just stupid, no offense. You know me, Jimin. I know you more than anything. I know you still think about her," you protest, not daring to look him in the eyes and just staring at the note.

"I'm not forcing you, y/n. I'm just offe-"

You scoffed, but you kept your composure. "I'm not going. It will be a waste of time. I'm really sorry. You can just ask her instead."

"I like you, y/n. I don't even think about her when I'm with you." You grew nervous at the thickness of his voice.

"Because that's what it is. You move on easily because you're not really in love, kids like us don't know the meaning of love. Stop pretending that for every sex you've had, you're in love."

"Jimin," Seulgi appears behind him, clearing her throat.

"I'm gonna go," you tell him with a broken voice, giving a thin smile towards Seulgi. You take the box half-heartedly, chocolates can't go to waste.

That was the last time you spoke to Jimin and from time to time, he'd give a call but you never answered any of them. Things slowly went back to normal and finally, you've finished your feature before Min Yoongi spams you with e-mails. The outcome never really satisfied you, but it was better than nothing.

In my long years of high school, the word "love" had never crossed my mind. A week ago, I was assigned to write about falling in love at a young age. But the truth is, falling for someone during these early years will never happen. Love takes so much more than just a spoken word. I know, you're in love with your partner right now, but let me tell you this one thing: you're not. These butterflies, all the fluttering inside our stomachs, they're most likely just happiness and excitement. College will come, and all the emotions we feel now will be forgotten. So, what's the point in falling in infatuation? Save yourself the emotional roller coaster, love in high school is the last thing you should think of. There's so much more to love in the world, like baseball or cheerleading. It doesn't always have to be a person. The right time will arrive, and you're actually going to fall in love. But not when we're still struggling to solve for the x, or when we can't come up with an essay. Love is everywhere, but our young little hearts won't recognize that just yet. Just like what Ricky Nelson had said, "We haven't the right to decide for ourselves, dear, what's black and what's white."

"This sucks." Sana slams the paper on the lunch table, giving you a judging look. "I can't believe Yoongi allowed this to be published."

You roll your eyes, cringing at the sight of your highly-disliked feature. "I know, okay? No need to remind me."

"Well, everybody in campus hates you now for thinking that their relationship is all just a joke to you. It's not like they care about your opinion, just that they feel humiliated. You could have done better." Her expression was disappointed, aware of what you're hiding. "You know Jimin submitted your picture right? The one in the cafe sayin-"

"It's published. What can I do?" You cut her off before she could make you feel bad about Jimin, munching on your chips as you slouch on your seat.

Sana puts her hand behind your back, straightening your posture. "I know you can write better. You're just trying to run away from your inspiration."

You give her a dirty look before speaking with your mouth full. "Shut up, I'm not running from anything."

She laughs, caressing your back. "Oh, my y/n, you can't lie from me." She smiles, her perfect teeth annoying you.

"Who cares if they don't like my feature? They go ahead and write their own, I don't care."

"You're so narrow-minded. Are you sure you're not coming to prom? I can still get you a dress in case you change your mind."

Right, you almost forgot. Prom was tomorrow, and you're kind of regretting not going after finding out that Jungkook will be there to serve the food. But seeing Jungkook wouldn't be worth it if you will be seeing Jimin dance with Seulgi all night long.

"I'm not changing my mind, Sana." You stood, gathering your stuff before leaving Sana behind in the cafeteria, not wanting to talk about how excited she is for prom.

You spent the next day watching reruns on ESPN much like your father, nodding along as he complains how a professional athlete couldn't make a single goal. He was too absorbed by the sports in front of him, he couldn't notice the distress in your eyes. There's no hope from your mother either who was busy finishing her reports. You groan.

Then it's prom night, you flop down to your messy bed, staring at the untouched chocolate heart-shaped box Jimin had given you two weeks ago. You breathe deeply, pulling yourself from the bed to approach the partly golden box. When you open it again, the message was still there—it's not like it's going to disappear over time. But it felt like yesterday, the chocolate looked good as new, and even smelled as sweet as... him.

You jump through your skin when you hear your mom opens the door without giving a quick knock, making you jolt the box to the floor.

"Mom!" you yell, and she broke into a fit of laughter.

"Sorry, hun. What would you like for dinner?" she asks in her velvet voice, warming the cold night.

"I'm not really eating. You and Dad can decide." Your eyes wander around the room, throwing your ego to ask her a question. "Mom?"

She comes back to the door, leaning on the door frame with one of her hands on her waist. "Yes?"

"This will sound really stupid, but" — you exhale — "how did you know you were in love with Dad?"

She giggles, making you feel more ashamed of the question. She moves to your side, sitting beside you before she speaks. "Well, I didn't know it. I felt it. One day, I hated the sound of his snores, then I woke up next realizing I can't live without them. There's so many things I hated about your dad, but I still love what I hate about him. By the way, your dad had the worst perfume back in the day, but now I can't breathe without it."

You chuckle, suppressing the twinge of dismay filling your mind. "I feel like I made a mistake of letting this boy go."

She gasps. "Why didn't you tell me about this boy?"

"That's not really the point right now," you laugh.

"That's what kids do. You guys make mistakes and you keep making 'em. If you love him, then go for it, honey."

You choke. "You think I love him?"

"Don't you? You don't have to love a person to chase 'em, you chase 'em because you want to love them." She sighs. "You're young, you're not supposed to make the perfect decisions just yet. Don't stress about whether you love this boy or not. If it doesn't work out, you can use the lesson for the next."

"That's more than I need, Mom. Thank you."

She gives you a squeeze on your shoulder before leaving you room.

I screwed up.

You pick the box from the floor, and a picture falls out from it. It took you a while before you could analyze it. A black and white photo of a girl reading a book, very similar to the one in the museum. What caught your attention is you knew who it was, the clothes, the book, the face. It was you back in eighth grade during the book fair, you had your eyes pinned on Wuthering Heights.

With heart racing, you flip the picture to reveal the message behind it.

"To the first girl I fell in love with :)"

Your mouth was left open, frozen in place as you try to process your emotions. You're the girl Jimin was talking about, you were Jimin's eighth grade crush. He had feelings for you just like you had feelings for him back then, and it all came back when you started hanging out with him again.

You wasted no time getting into your hoodie, running downstairs which made your mom look at you in horror.

"Mom, I need the car keys. I made a mistake." Without a nod from her, you grab the car keys and ran to her forbidden Civic.

It's been long since she have let you borrow the car, but it's now or never. It seemed like the perfect timing to tell him how you actually feel, under chandeliers and surrounded by young couples dancing in love. You weren't even sure if he decided to show up to prom as well after your hurtful rejection in front of Seulgi. Or maybe he had changed his mind, choosing to take your advice and actually taking Seulgi to prom.

You brushed the negativity off, pulling in Chelsea Hotel. A parking valet stopping you from entering the hotel, but you shove him from you, quickly running towards the venue. Poor guy just trying to do his job.

You exhale, trying to catch your breath. The room glimmers, a disco ball instead of a chandelier spins on the ceiling. You roll your eyes, your school has always been a disappointment when it comes to decoration. You seek through the students, searching for the pale boy. You only found Sana who was already waving at you, eyes shinning in joy. You give her a sly smile, continuing to look for Jimin. And you found him by the photo booth, approaching him with tiny steps.

"Hi," you greeted.

He looks up from the camera and your words were already backing away, throat thinning when you meet his eyes.

"I am sorry for what I said. I was being narrow and stupid. I shouldn't have said those, you know?" You voice cracks in every word, and he goes back to his camera. "Jimin, please."

You saw him suppress a smile, but it wasn't enough. He was still fiddling with his tripod, fake fixing the stand.

"Fine!" you blurt, walking away from him.

You caught a lot of eyes staring at your outfit as you approach the stage, and you felt nauseated when you reached for the microphone. A blond girl furrows her brows at you, pointing towards her bandmates.

"What are you playing?" you confidently ask.

"Excuse you?" she returns, annoyance obvious in her tone.

"Trust me, I'll let you sing. Just tell me what song are you playing."

"Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer," she says without certainty.

"Look, I can get you in front of the page of our next publication issue. Everyone in the school will know your band, just do me one favor."

She turns to her bandmates and they all nodded. "Spit it out."

"Can you please... play the intro while I have my speech?"

"You got it."

When you said that, you didn't expect them to actually play the intro immediately. But there's no turning back, all eyes were already on you except for Jimin. Everybody gave you looks, obviously aware that you were the one that wrote that hateful feature.

You pat the mic, feedback traveling through everybody's ears. Then you sighed again, prepping yourself.

"I know I've hurt some of you because of what I wrote. I'm sorry to everyone. I was the one wrong, I shouldn't belittle these emotions because we're young. I've come to the realization that whatever we feel now will always matter even in college, even when we're old. Falling in love today doesn't make anyone less of a person, we're young and we're supposed to make mistakes. Fall in love now and fall in love again, it's how stories are made. And to that person I specifically broke, I think I like you." You breathe, picking in your nails. "So, Park Jimin, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

You bit your lip, waiting for the audience's response to your corny speech. And your back straightens when they started clapping, some even yelled "Fuck yeah!" which made you laugh in embarrassment. Your eyes couldn't find Jimin at the moment, and you gave blondie the microphone, letting her continue her performance. You have some deals to make with Yoongi for the next front page.

You walk down the stairs, trying to calm the race of your heart. A hand pulls your waist, plump luscious lips devouring yours. Sweet fragrance entering your senses, you knew who it was.

"That was the cringiest shit you've said," he comments. "I knew you would come."

You roll your eyes. "I think I owe you a meal."

Jimin puts his hand at the small of your back, directing you towards the photo booth. "No, you owe me a story."

(unedited)

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

ALEXANDER ‘TIG’ TRAGER x READER ⨟ PROMPT

@lucillewinchester asked: Hi! My name is Carmen. I'm new to tumblr. I recently discovered your stories and I love it. I love sons of anarchy. Could you write an imagine about Chibs Telford or Tig Trager with numbers 87 and 42? Although the truth has been difficult for me to decide, almost all of them seemed very interesting to me. P.D: English is not my first language, sorry if there is an error :)

Prompts:

42. “I can’t watch you with another man/woman”.

87. “Put on my kutte”.

WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUT

Word Count: 1.6k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford ✨

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @ottosuricato @agirllovespasta ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You have a goofy smile installed on your lips, crossing the crowded yard to the clubhouse. All that you can see are Sons of Anarchy everywhere, and even if you see them like your family, you're going right to the SOA meeting room where the boys must be to talk to them about your date night. It was really amazing. You met John at the hospital, when he came with an allergic reaction to peanuts, and after all he asked you for a dinner. The restaurant was on point, as your outfit and your companion. And you can't wait to tell it to Jax, Chibs and Tig.

But when you enter into the club, you didn't expect that scene. The inside is fully empty. There are broken stools all around, alcohol of all kinds spilled on the ground, as if a battle had happened there. Jax comes out from the hallway to the dorms, snorting with a cigar in his lips.

“Hey… Wha—”.

“You should go to talk with Tig. I beg you, (Y/N)”.

You don't say anything else, nodding just one time biting your lip ashamed for something you don't even understand. The president takes your jacket and your bag, before continuing your steps to the specific bedroom. Knocking it, you enter without waiting for an answer, finding Tig sitting in a corner with his knees curled against his chest and a bottle of whisky in his bloody left hand.

You don't doubt, running towards him and squatting to have the bottle and put it away, so damn worried that you can barely breathe. Pulling down your long hair behind your ears, you cup his cheeks in your hands.

“Hey, hey, Tig. Look at me… What happened?”

The man raises his face covered too by his own blood, mixed with the tears falling down of his eyes. He shakes his head, freeing himself from your grip, crying as a scared child.

“Tig, please… Talk to me…” Begging him and narrowing his knees, you try to call his attention too desperate.

“I… I just… Please, leave”.

“No, I'm not leaving, Alexander”. You say firmly, forcing him to look at you again. “What happened, my tiger?”

“I can't watch… you with another man”. He finally says, after some long second in holy silence.

You swallow hard, licking your lower lip, understanding why he has been so distant with you the last week, and why he's suffering like that.

“I love you… I didn' want to see it, but I really do”.

“Why you… Didn't want to?”

“'Cause I'm a fucking pariah. I can't offer you anything good. And that… fucking ‘Johnny boy’ can give you the world”.

Stretching his hand, he grabs back the bottle to have a long drink, until the whisky rips his throat making him cough. Drowning with his own cry, you sigh, taking it off again, getting up to step out of the room without any words pronounced. Chibs intercepts you as soon as you close the door, knowing that you probably would like to fix up that silly man.

“Call me if ya need halp'”.

“I don't want anyone jumping around here”.

“At your command, lass”. He replies back, offering you the medical kit, at the exact moment you hear a big glass colliding to the door at your back. Probably, the bottle. “Go'head, tiga' tamer”.

Rolling your eyes, you don't say anything because you know this is kinda your fault. Turning over your sneakers you come in again. Tig looks at you somewhat confused, getting up with some difficulties and having to support a hand on the wooden wall. You leave your eyes fall to your feet, lifting up one a little to find the glass pieces on the floor. Taking a deep breath, expelling it by your nose, you close the door pointing to the bed to make him know that you want him to sit on it. He does without complaining, resting his forearms on his lap.

Opening his legs, you place your body kneeling among them. You wet a piece of cotton in peroxide to clean the blood on his face, looking for the wounds. One under his left eye, on the cheek. And another cutting his upper lip by a side.

“I'm sorry… I didn' want to ruin your night, my sunshine”

“You didn't, Tig. And don't move”. You demand rolling your eyes, grabbing the stitches to cover the gaps.

“But…”

“No, Alexander”. You growl, supporting your arms on his leg to get up. “Who the fuck said I want the world? 'Cause no one asked me”.

The man bow his head because of the truth in your words. Yes, John looks like a good guy. But he? He's all that you really want. Maybe he's not a very sane man, but what he does, he does it with passion. Sometimes he looks like the typical rider that the only things he cares about is to fuck, and to drink. But, even if people around you don't see it, he has a golden heart.

“What if I just want a mechanic? What if I want a… pariah to break into our house at three in the morning, with a bag full of… guns or whatever? Did you ask me?”

“No”. He replies confused, raising his eyes. “Do you love me?”

“That… wasn't the question I was waiting for”. You say upping both eyebrows, picking up the medical stuff to leave it on the desk. “But, yes. I do”.

You can't even finish to turn yourself, when he takes two strides to reach you, colliding your mouth with his in an awkward kiss. And the time looks like it goes so fast that you get somewhat dizzy. He undresses himself, as you're doing it, so desperate to feel your nudity against the other, pushing him to the bed.

“Put on my kutte, I wanna see you wearing it”. He asks you grabbing it from the floor.

And you do. You wear it, before Tig lifts you up in his arms laying you down on the bed. As soon as he's on top of you with a simple move of his pelvis, Alexander digs his hard cock inside you, making you moan loud and clear his name. He sinks his face in your neck growling because of the pleasure of your pussy narrowing his erection.

“God… It feels better than I've been dreaming, my sunshine”. He mutters with a weak thread of voice. “So warm, so wet…”.

“Only for you, my tiger”. You sigh, curling a leg around his lower back, pushing him deeper, taking your time to enjoy your tightness. “I want you to fuck me hard, please… I need you, Tig… You don't know how much”.

“As much as I do”. He cries out, thrusting you again losing his control.

His waist moves faster than you can handle with, pounding you once and again, drinking his shaky breathing with his mouth pressing yours. A constant push that makes you feel plenty full. Complaining when he goes back, and whimpering when he hits you again. And probably you won't last long, but enough for him to mark his territory on your body.

His tongue explores your neck with curiosity, finding the perfect place to draw a pinky bruise on. His lips suck gently your skin, contrary to the furious lunges that fill your wetted pussy with no regrets. You look so good in his kutte, knowing that you're really the one for him, too anxious to show you that fact.

“Fuck, my sunshine…” He grunts with closed eyes, supporting his hands on the headboard, pounding you harder as you turn your moans into screams begging him for being more rough. “You got it… baby, you got it…”

And when you think it's impossible, he starts to hit your soul, so hard that it almost hurts you. But the pleasure is so intense that you don't want him to stop, only to turn you, leaving you on top of his body. And now, you're riding him. You ride him as fast as you can, sobbing too pleased when Tig slaps your ass, with rings included. He's going to leave his mark all around your body and that only excites you more. One of his hands gets nailed on your ass, while he uses the thumb of the other to rub your clit, running you out of air about to fall because of the orgasm shaking your body.

“Shit, Alexander!” You moan arching your back and spreading your legs for him, going somewhat deeper.

“Don't stop, my sunshine… Don't stop”. He begs you slapping again your ass, raising his hand to your throat making you lean on him. “Make me cum, baby…”

You nod biting his lower lip, with your pelvis crashing against his, until his breathing becomes inconstant and hectic. He fills you, flooding the room with a throaty snarl, feeling the heat that emanates from his cock spilling inside you for some long seconds that make you touch the sky. You fall exhausted on his chest, chuckling because you're just two idiots that have been wasting a valued time being able to spend it like this.

“Call ‘Johnny boy’ and tell him to fuck off”. He laughs holding you between his arms, infecting you so easy. “My sunshine… I don' wanna live without you”.

“Look at that… I didn' know you could be this romantic, Trager…”

“Really?” He raises both eyebrows, before rolling his eyes. “You will see, baby… You will see”.

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG Post Games Boat Heist Part 4

This is what happened to Nesri overnight! Trigger warning for torture. But then there’s a fluff piece right after that. It’s a roller coaster of emotions. :) Tagging: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Rebecca and Elvira!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Cirrus and Asher!), and @pen-of-roses (I don’t think your characters show up in this one, but thanks still!)!

Nesri

Triel got ready for her meeting with Snow in our small room, and I waited with her. The best time to confront Churi would be when she was busy. She would normally figure out that something was wrong and follow me, but if she was busy, she couldn’t.

She stood in front of me, makeup re-applied and clothes freshly straightened. She grinned at me. “How do I look?”

I grinned back. “Like a dream. Make sure the dear president doesn’t try to steal you for being too beautiful.”

She snorted and sat down next to me, searching my eyes. Shit. I made sure not to look away, or she would know that something was wrong. She cocked her head. “You doing okay, Osprey?”

The nickname we came up with. I genuinely smiled a little. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

She didn’t look completely convinced, but before she could press, she glanced at the time and stood up. “I have to go. Don’t do anything stupid until I come back. I have to be in on it too.” She grinned at me, I nodded, and she left after kissing me on the forehead.

I waited half an hour before I stood up. “I’m hungry,” I mumbled and headed out. It wasn’t the most foolproof plan, but it was pretty believable that I was hungry.

It didn’t take me long to find Churi. He was standing idly by the entrance to the corridor that led to our rooms. I glared at him. How dare he so casually threaten my friends. “I won’t let you touch any of my friends.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of bothering them, since you came to me yourself. Let’s go chat, and I’ll think about continuing to stay away from them.” He gestured for me to follow, and I did for my friends. He led me down a corridor that wasn’t populated until he stopped out of sight of the main deck.

I kept glaring at him, even though my hands were shaking. I spoke up first. “I escaped from your control, and I will do it as many times as I need to. Give up on trying to control me. It will only end in you hurt.”

He laughed and put a hand around my neck and breathed in deeply, and everything was gone. All my emotions. Except fear. I shook even harder. Shit. I was trapped. There was no escape. I was a fool to even try to escape from him and stand against him. Didn’t I know it was better to cower and hope that he didn’t hurt me?

“Ah, your emotions are always so strong, so delicious, Ness.” I flinched. Kiryth’s nickname. “Yes, I know about your ex. And your crewmates. And your tribute friends. And I won’t stop hunting you, even if you slip away tonight.” He smiled and fuzzed for a second into black smoke, letting go of my neck until he turned into Triel and wrapped his hand around my neck again. My other emotions fuzzed back into existence, not strong enough to affect the fear, for a second before he breathed in again. Something tugged at me when he fuzzed into his true form, but I had no idea what it was. And did that even matter at all? I was trapped, at his mercy, and Triel was threatening to choke me, and his smile on Triel’s face twisted it so she didn’t look human, and there was no escape.

Triel’s voice came out as Churi spoke. “Oh, hun. Did you really think I loved you? You’re a liability to my whole crew. I sold you out to the Shades. I don’t ever want to see you again. You’re nothing to me.” Tears streaked down my face as I stared at Triel’s face. I knew it wasn’t her saying these things, but what if…what if she really thought that? What if what he was saying was all true?

He cocked his head and grinned, still looking twisted on Triel’s face. “I heard the others talking as well. Kiryth thinks you’re an idiot. He doesn’t love you anymore. Cirrus finds you annoying. He’s just putting up with you until this is over. Zenith doesn’t care. He’s only cared about his old team this whole time. No one cares about you. You’re just a worthless piece of garbage who can never make friends because you annoy everyone around you. You’re alone, and you’re not safe. The Shades won’t stop hunting you. Ever. And no one will help you because no one cares.”

Some little shred of willpower tried to push against the suffocating fear, but it was only enough to choke out a few words. “No…that’s not—”

Churi/Triel squeezed on my throat, cutting off my air supply and what I was going to say, and the tears fell faster. He stopped after a few seconds. “What was that, hun? You think I’m lying? How do you know? Are they ever real around you? Do they ever really care? How do you know?”

Thundering footsteps. And Cirrus spoke up. “What’s going on?”

Shit. No, no, no, no…Churi/Triel turned to him with a normal smile. “Oh, nothing. Just a chat.”

“Looks like it.” Rebecca with an exaggerated voice. Double shit. “How’s about you remove that hand from that neck or I remove the hand from your arm, pal?”

I sucked in a breath to beg, plead that they escape, but Churi/Triel squeezed my neck again for a few seconds. He cocked his head. “And why would you care about this broken creature? We took her when she was eight and gave her the magic. She is our property. And she is broken beyond repair. That’s why I must take her back.” He paused and laughed. “Oh, you should have seen our artwork.” He flipped around so that my back was to Cirrus and Rebecca. No. He wasn’t going to show the scars, was he? No, no, no, no, no. They would never look at me the same again. A sob wracked my body as he lowered my collar (I had left my coat back in the room) so only my shoulders were exposed. They could see the scars. They now knew how broken I was. “It’s not as pretty now.”

The sound of ripping flesh cut through the air, but the hand still held me. Churi wouldn’t be dissuaded that easily. He sighed. “Now, that was rude.” He reattached the hand, flexing his fingers. “As I was saying, what is she to you? How much would you sacrifice for a piece of broken property?”

Cirrus snarled, and I tried to shake my head, anything to get them to leave, but he started pulling at Churi. “Get away from her!”

Churi actually let go, and I crumpled to the floor, curling up in a ball as my other emotions fuzzed into existence. But a faint existence. I could barely feel anything but the fear still. “Fine.” He grinned at Cirrus and misted into Asher. I felt that same tug when he shapeshifted, but I still didn’t understand.

I flinched as he started speaking to Cirrus. This was my fault. All my fault. I had led them into this. I was to blame. Only me.

Churi/Asher crossed his arms and glared at Cirrus, who had frozen. “You disgust me, clinging to anyone who tells you pretty lies. You’re so easily deceived. You’re pathetic. Did you think I really loved you, let alone Nesri loved you? They’ve all been lying to you. They’ll never care about you. Even Striker. He’d rather you were gone, and I agree with him. Of course you fell for Nesri’s lies; both of you are too scarred to be anything more than a pretty face. You worthless excuse for a son. Of course your mother doesn’t want you back. And she never will. You will be alone, begging her for forgiveness like you have month after month after month. Don’t you ever wonder why she never responds? Why no one comes for you? No one will listen, no one will ever care about you, Cirrus.” He laughed. “Stop fighting against the inevitable. Give up and help me take the rest of your fake friends into custody. It’s the only thing a pathetic excuse like you can do.”

He stiffened, frozen. “Stop. Stop that’s, that’s not true.” There were cracks in his voice.

“No…” It came out as just a whisper. Churi was going to destroy everyone I cared about. And I couldn’t do anything. Everything felt fuzzy. My thoughts were moving too sluggishly. The suffocating fear was still in control, and I couldn’t bring myself to move. There was nothing that I could do. I had trapped the people I cared about. It was all my fault.

Churi/Asher smiled. “Still trying to pretend that it’s not true. Pathetic.” He turned to Rebecca when Cirrus didn’t say anything.

Churi fuzzed into someone else, a man I didn’t recognize. But Rebecca did. I felt that tug again when he changed. It had to be my magic. But what did that mean? Was he made of something that I could manipulate?

But what did that matter? He was hurting the people I cared about, and all I was thinking about was some insignificant detail?

“I know you’re not Richard,” Rebecca snarled, her grip tightening on her sword. I flinched at the pain in her eyes. There was nothing I could do. I was useless, worthless.

Churi/Richard smirked and golf clapped. “Oh, yes, look at the smart little girl, figuring it all out. So clever and well-educated and tough with her big, scary sword. Not compensating for anything—certainly not any lack of tact, honor, basic hygiene, common sense—”

“Shut up!” Rebecca. Shit. I…I had to do something. But what could I do? There was nothing…

“You shut up,” he growled, stepping toward her, and she cringed back. “Who do you think you are? Someone better than the sniveling coward who was willing to die for a love that was never real? You never did a thing in your life to help yourself, just watched your family die and sat around waiting for someone to save you, and when your knight finally quit babysitting and tried to get free of you, you clung on, attempted murder, and seem so surprised that the shining armor doesn’t fucking fit.” He sneered at the sword shaking in her hands. Hopeless. It was all hopeless. “It never will. You’re fooling no one, you inbred street rat.”

“Aw, you’re just saying that,” she said, sarcastic, but her voice was cracking. She grit her teeth. “I’m not scared of some prissy boy’s mean words! Who’s the coward now? Show me your real face so I can—”

“Use physical violence to solve your problems, yes, I get the gist.” He sighed. “Very civilized, Becky. Good show. And you’re not special either—I’m only pointing out what you already know when I repeat that you still don’t know real love. Everyone just uses whoever they can to survive. Who do you imagine forfeits the opportunity? The wily thief who tried to kill you? The apathetic mongrel who’s killed more men than you’ve ever met? These jackasses who’ve known you for less than a month?” He gave her a snide, pitying smile. “You’re far too easy to use.”

Rebecca didn’t say anything. She just spluttered as she lowered the sword and stared at Churi/Richard. I sobbed. He was winning. They wouldn’t escape now. I had done this. My fault.

He turned to me and fuzzed back to Triel. I vaguely registered that it was definitely my magic that was tugging at me when he did that. He smirked at me. “See, hun? I own your friends now. I will take anything that you think you can have. You will have nothing. Your once-friends will hate you and hurt you. You all are mine.”

Anything, anything for the people I cared about. When he fuzzed again, I activated my magic and pulled at the tug. I blinked, and thousands of tiny crystals were falling to the ground in front of us. And he was gone. What? Everything still felt fuzzy. Had I…turned him to crystal?

Cirrus stared at where Churi had been standing then shook himself and turned to me. I instinctively flinched away from him. “Are you okay?” He sounded shaken himself.

I tried to smile. Everything was fine. Fine. He was gone, it seemed, possibly forever. But they had seen my scars and heard my story and I had led them into this mess. They probably hated me. “Don’t worry about me. What about you two?” I paused, trying to collect my thoughts, but that didn’t work, and the words rushed out. “It’s my fault anyway. You—you should hate me. I understand. I did something stupid. I tried to stop him before he hurt any of you, and I only made it worse. I’m a stupid girl who won’t think. Instead, I just rush in, damn the consequences.” Stupid idiot. I’m supposed to not be making this about myself. “But—but are you two okay?”

Rebecca stared at the pile of crystals, then at me, and she looked wary. She hated me, like she should. “I dunno. I dunno if I was okay before, now. I’m all…I just don’t understand.”

“We’re fine, I think.” Cirrus tried to sound calm, but he was shaken too, and it was my fault. He glanced up and down the hallway. “Come on, let’s get somewhere out of the way.” He led us back to the room. He shouldn’t be helping. He should just leave me. I didn’t understand. And they were the ones hurt more by this. I was used to their manipulation, even though it still worked on me, but they weren’t.

When we got to the room, I just blurted out an apology and headed to the corner. I shouldn’t even be here. I didn’t deserve it. I hid my head in my hands. But Cirrus was there, and he held out a hand, but I didn’t take it.

Instead I burst into fresh tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for fucking it up. I just wanted to protect you. But I was so terrified of him, I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else. You should hate me.” Please hate me. Because I don’t understand how you couldn’t. I messed everything up. How can you still look concerned about me? I don’t understand. I’m worthless and broken. How can anyone care about me?

Rebecca sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. “Look. Maybe we should. But we don’t. You fucked up. We all three kinda did. It’s what people do. We fuck up, and then we, uh…forgive each other.”

Cirrus nodded and leaned back against the wall. “I mean, if we didn’t care we wouldn’t have followed you either.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you care? I’m everything he said I was.” Shit. I knew this was all illogical. I knew that they actually cared. But I still felt fuzzy, and it was hard to fight against my mind. “Thank you both so much. I care deeply about you. I haven’t lied to you about that.”

“So does that mean that everything he said about us was true too?” He took a deep breath and lowered his voice as I quickly shook my head. “Between us, Asher’s said those things to me before. Doesn’t mean it was true. Doesn’t mean he meant it.”

It wouldn’t be so easy to believe what he said, but I just had to keep reminding myself that they weren’t true. I smiled a wobbly smile. “You wanna spar to blow off steam?”

Cirrus shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

I made a face at him. “You’re a meanie.” He sighed and rolled his eyes.

Rebecca spoke up. “Hey, so, Elvira says…that someone can get forgiven when the person they hurt or wronged or whatever—or even if you just think you hurt or wronged them—when they don’t expect anything else from you in order to right that wrong. So, I think what we need to do here is…tell each other what we need from each other so that we can trust each other, really trust each other and not worry about whatever we’re using each other or secretly don’t care or whatever. What do we need to do or say or promise? Does that make sense? Or do you not wanna do it?” She looked away.

That was a good rule for forgiveness. It made sense. I smiled, but it was still wobbly. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, and I’ll do anything you need me to. But you two don’t need my forgiveness. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Well, I’d love some sort of affirmoration that I’m accepted even though I’m not all that bright or proper, y’know, just a little something to boost the ol’ spirits after getting dragged by a monster wearing my ex’s face instead of everyone pretending I’m perfect and I never do nothing wrong, which I do, so it’s making me more suspicious, but that’s beside the point,” Rebecca said dryly. Then she became more serious. “Anyways, I think demanding that you don’t go off on your own or whatever is kinda against the whole thing. You want independence. From those creeps—the, uh, Shades—and I want that for you, too. So I won’t ask you not to go off after them…And it sounds like there’s more, and you’ll have to deal with them, and maybe the rest of us will too. So what I’m gonna ask you to do is stop beating yourself up about it, first of all. Blaming yourself for what they’re doing’s just gonna weaken you, and you’re our best shot at stopping them, so that’s not helping anyone. Second of all, just…let us know what we can do to help. What we can do to fight them. If you don’t know anything now, that’s fine, but, like, if you learn anything that’ll help us non-magical folks stand a chance against those guys, let us know. And if you do go after them, maybe try to have some sort of plan,” she snorted. “That’s what I’m asking of you. What do you think?”

I nodded. That was fair. “I just mean in this moment, you didn’t do anything wrong, following someone who was going to get herself hurt. I mean, you certainly aren’t perfect. We’ve still got to work on your popcorn-catching skills.” I smiled, but then grew serious. “I’ll try not to beat myself up. But it might take a little while. I don’t know how normal people can fight against the Shades. I didn’t even know I could use my magic on them. But if I find anything out, I’ll let you know. And I’m not the best at making plans, so I’ll consult you before rushing in.”

Rebecca smiled back, shoulders relaxing a little. “And I’ll come to you for lessons in popcorn martial arts. Thanks, Nesri. I officially forgive you.” We shook hands, and Rebecca glanced at Cirrus. “And what about you?”

He crossed his arms. “I think you beat me to it.” He paused and sighed. “I don’t want you to think you have to face anything alone. Don’t just brush off whenever someone offers to help you.” He tone dropped, a little bit of anger slipping in. “And don’t just pretend everything’s fine just to try and make us feel better.” He stopped with a glance up at Rebecca. “Is that too much?”

I nodded at his requests. Those would be hard. “I’ll—I’ll try. You might have to remind me, though.”

“Anything we can do to help,” Rebecca said.

Tears streaked down my face again. “Thank you so much.”

And then the worst thing that could happen, happened. Triel opened the door, took in the scene, her eyes flashed with panic, and she crossed her arms. “Okay, what the hell happened?”

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I forced myself to stop crying and stood up. “Churi was on the yacht, so I felt I had to confront him, and Rebecca and Cirrus were suspicious of what I was doing, so they followed me. But no one was hurt.” I smiled too widely.

“Except the psychological trauma,” Rebecca chimed in. “We’re working on it.”

Triel’s eyes widened, and her eyes flickered back to me. “You waited until I was busy on purpose, didn’t you? Shit, Nesri.” I nodded sheepishly, and she sighed and glanced at Rebecca and Cirrus. “I’m sorry about that. I probably should have briefed everyone on what the Shades could do. It slipped my mind. Do you need anything?”

Cirrus shrugged. “Some help talking sense into her?”

Well, that was rude. “Hey!” I lightly punched his arm.

Rebecca brightened. “Can we maybe hunt down some popcorn?”

I laughed, full and joyful. Triel laughed too and ordered some popcorn. She walked up to me afterwards and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “What did he say to you, Osprey?”

I ducked my head. Did I really have to say it? “All the normal lies,” I mumbled.

She sighed. “Why the fuck would you think that no one cares about you? Shine doesn’t throw machine parts at just anyone. I don’t give flattering nicknames to just anyone. And these idiots wouldn’t go after you because they were concerned if they didn’t care. If you let those lies poison you, I really will make you as seductive as a fish next time I dress you up.” I sniffled but laughed.

“I heard that.” Cirrus crossed his arms at Triel, looking indignant. “The idiot part. Everything else is true though.”

Elvira walked in before we could say anything, and she was holding popcorn. She took in the scene. “Is everything all right? Should I leave?” I shook my head, and Triel did the same. Elvira relaxed and held up the popcorn. “Someone ordered popcorn?”

*

Thus started the great popcorn war of the century. And laughs and good food and friendship. During the night, I kept getting closer to Cirrus, until I finally leaned up against him and hugged his arm. And he didn’t object. It just felt better to be near someone else, someone who liked me. It helped keep my thoughts from going back.

When everyone else went to sleep, Triel and I stayed up a little bit longer. We talked about the Shades a bit more, but before we went to sleep, she glanced over at Cirrus, smirked at me, and cocked an eyebrow. “He’s a good man. I approve.”

I flushed. What? “Whatever do you mean?”

She laughed. “If you like him, you should just tell him. It won’t hurt my feelings, hun. But don’t think I’ll just give up. I’ll never stop flirting with you.” She winked at me and squeezed my shoulder. I just stared at her. My thoughts weren’t even working.

She laughed. “You should see your face! And your flush.” She brushed a finger across my cheek, and I finally unfroze.

We just curled up close together (there wasn’t much room in this room), and Triel draped an arm over me, but even after an hour, I couldn’t fall asleep. I wiggled out of Triel’s arm without waking her up (she was a heavy sleeper anyway) and sat up. Every time I closed my eyes, memories of the Shades would just invade my mind. I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

Across the room (admittedly, not that far away), Cirrus turned his head and propped himself up on one elbow after a little bit. “Can’t sleep?” he whispered.

I shook my head. “I think I might need some fresh air. If you can’t sleep too, why don’t you join me?”

“Gladly.” He slipped out of bed. “It’s too stuffy in here.”

I tiptoed around Triel and anyone else trying to sleep, and we got outside and started walking. Triel’s words about Cirrus came back, and I started flushing. Did I like him? It was so quiet, and my thoughts were so loud, so I grasped at anything to fill the silence. “Why couldn’t you sleep? Are you doing okay?”

He sighed. “I’ll be alright. There’s just…There’s just a lot to think about.”

Well, that wasn’t good. I needed a distraction. I smiled. “I could help you forget it.” I bumped his arm with my shoulder, since that was as far up as my shoulder could reach on him. But then I actually thought about what I said, and my face grew hotter.

Cirrus looked surprised, but then he smiled, hunching down closer to my eye level. “Have anything in mind?”

My face grew even hotter, and my eyes flicked down to his lips. Kissing? No, we hadn’t even said we liked each other yet. Was that too fast? It was definitely too fast. C’mon, Nesri! Think of something! Anything! “I—I…You know what? We could throw popcorn at the fish!” I looked away from him. Damn, that was embarrassing.

“Could be fun.” I glanced back at him, and he was grinning. He was so handsome when he smiled. “This time of night we might have the deck to ourselves.”

Oh shit. What did that mean? I nodded wordlessly, and we went to get popcorn and go to the upper deck. While we walked, I tentatively took his hand, and he held my hand back. He glanced at me with an unsure expression, but his eyes softened and he kept holding my hand. Oh shit. What did that mean?

We walked up to the upper deck, and we threw some popcorn in, and I moved closer to him, felt his warmth. I leaned against him, he put an arm around my shoulder, my face was hot enough to fry an egg on. But his hand brushed over my shoulders, and I felt the scars, and I stiffened and pulled away a little. What would he think if he saw them? Would he still want to be close to me?

I sucked in a breath. “I—I’m not as put together as I seem. The Shades—they tortured me mentally but also physically. You saw a little bit, but it’s all down my back, my stomach, my upper arms. I’m broken. I’m not pretty. You’d probably be scared off if you saw my scars. So, I wanted to tell you.”

He looked away from me and leaned against the railing of the deck. Oh shit. He really didn’t like that, did he? “I guess that makes two of us.” Wait, what? His face fell. “I had a run in with Asher’s father once. He burned me, and it…I try not to look at it too much.”

I sucked in a breath. “Shit. I’m sorry. We were supposed to be trying to get our minds off of painful stuff, and here I go—” Wait, Rebecca said don’t beat myself up. I tried to smile. “For the record, I wouldn’t think you’re any less handsome.”

“Easy to say,” Cirrus mumbled, looking down at the lake. He pushed off the railing to stand and face me. “May as well just get it over with.” He sighed and unbuttoned his shirt enough to show the scar. It covered about half his chest and part of his shoulder.

But I didn’t stare at that yet. My face grew hot again, but I tore my eyes away and to the scar. It was big and looked like it was gruesome when it happened, but…how could that make him any less handsome? His smile, how he cared in his own way, that was what made him handsome. Well, his looks and muscles didn’t hurt either. I tentatively reached out and brushed my fingers along the scar, and I shook my head. “You’re still as handsome as before,” I breathed. I backed up a little and pulled up my shirt. If he was willing to show off his scar he didn’t like, I should do the same. “Showing all of them would be a little inappropriate, but here’s most of them.” I let him see the scars on my stomach before I turned around and showed him the scars on my back. Scars from knives they etched into my skin.

“You survived all that?” I winced and turned around. He stared at the scars for a moment with a mixture of awe and horror, before he looked back up at my face. “That’s…That must have been hard.”

“Seven years of it.” And I still have nightmares. “They thought I should get special torture because they couldn’t control me as easily as they could the others.” I let my shirt down and threw another piece of popcorn in the water. Triel told me to just tell him. And I really thought I did like him. Even though he might not care anymore, I had to tell him. I squeezed my eyes shut. “But I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I—I think I might like you, but it’s fine.”

I opened my eyes as he reached forward, and I stiffened, but he just gently draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me so I was against his side. Oh shit. He was warm and gentle and I was drinking in his scent and I couldn’t think. After a while, he spoke. “You know, when we danced earlier, that was my first kiss as a human.”

Oh double shit. Really? Why? What the heck? I couldn’t even figure out my thoughts, let alone my words for a little bit. “W—well, I hope you didn’t hate it.”

“Well, I didn’t. It was nice.” He hesitated, swallowing and taking a breath. “Except for the location.”

Well, this was a different location, and why not? Why not? “Would this be a better location?”

Cirrus lowered his head. “Much better.”

Wait, now? Why was I hesitating? I could flirt all day long but actually kissing? What the hell was wrong with me? “Uh. Now? Or…” I glanced down at the popcorn bag still in my hands. “I guess throwing popcorn at fish isn’t entirely romantic.”

“I don’t know.” He laughed kind of nervously. “I’m not so good at this.”

Now, random nonsense decided to just escape my mouth. “Well, I wasn’t either with Kiryth. Triel said that’s why it didn’t work. But Triel’s also said there’s a trick, and she told me about it.” I hesitated, eyeing him nervously.

He looked curious. “A trick? She does seem to know a few things.”

I dropped the popcorn bag and bit my lip. This was so ridiculous. How was I like this? I didn’t understand. I reached up to the collar of his shirt and brushed my fingers over his collar bone before I took his shirt collar and gently yanked him down to my level and closed the distance.

He was flustered for a second before he leaned in and kissed me back. And he was holding me and I felt safe and there was nothing else around us. Just us, no Capitol, no scars, nothing but us. And I couldn’t imagine a better kiss.

*

Little did I know that Asher and Triel had actually followed us, and when they saw us kiss, they grinned at each other and fistbumped.

[jj-lynn21]

Mark & X-Reader:Party At Greenwald’s ch 1

Warnings: virus, quarantine, sex, drugs, angst, possessive relationship

Images courtesy of @dearcardan on twitter, @billofourtime,imdb, mood board my creation

read previous story of how this couple got together HERE

CH 2   ch 3  ch 4 ch 5 ch 6 ch 7

You stir slightly as Mark carefully pulls his arm from under your head. He sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. It is almost two in the morning.  He grabs his phone looking at the text message.

      Bex:

       Party at Greenwald’s. I know your down Mark.

       Mark:

       Yeah, I’m down.

You roll over with a whine when Mark gets up. He freezes a minute. Turns to look at you with your face buried in his pillow. He smiles looking at you there. Mark wants nothing more than for you to go with him to the party, but he knows you will only try to stop him. Its been almost two months since the virus started to spread. He was pissed how it turned his life upside down so quickly.

{flash back}

“The University is closed as of tomorrow Mark,” You told him when he picked you up from your last class. “Professor Robertson said he doesn’t know if classes will start back up before the actual end of the semester. He offered his home as sanctuary to any students who can’t get home.”

“I bet he did.” Mark smirked. “He’s fucking that chick Elizabeth and her friend Veronica you know. He was bragging about it at the bar last weekend to me and my boys. Trying to act like he wasn’t a piece of shit. And his wife is pregnant. What a dick. The frat house is off campus. We will be fine there.”

“Yeah, I heard that,” You sighed. “I guess his wife found out and went to stay with her Mother. Somehow everyone knows, but the University President. Or maybe she knows and since the girls don’t complain he won’t lose his job.”

“That’s fucked up,” Mark pulls into his garage spot at the frat house. “He never hit on you did he, Babe?”

You laugh, “I think everyone knows better than that.”

Mark nodded in agreement. He got out and came around to open the passenger door for you. This may seem chivalrous to the untrained eye but according to Mark there is no such thing. One of his “rules” for you was to never let another person open the door for you. It didn’t matter if they were a man or woman. It didn’t even matter their age. They just wanted to fuck you. End of story. If you took their hospitality with a smile that was their, in and they would take it until they had you in a compromising position to satisfy them.  

As soon as you were on two feet, you were off them when Mark swooped you up in a bridal carry. You wrapped your arms around his neck. He easily kissed you at the same time he walked to door.

“Fuck,” He put you down and tore the note off the door of the frat house. “Look at this shit? Can you believe this shit? I own this fucking frat house. How do they think they can fucking get away with this shit?”

“What is it Mark?” You reach for the paper.

Mark pulls it away and rips it up. “The University says we have to vacate the house in twenty-four hours. The Frat is University sponsored, so it falls under the rule that everyone should shelter in place at home.” He opens the door and throws the pieces of paper in the trash.

“I guess I should call my parents.” You take your cellphone from your pocket. “Hopefully I can get a flight home.”

“Yeah, I guess everyone has to be homeward bound,” He starts texting frantically. “But not before we throw the biggest party of the semester. Make your flight for tomorrow morning babe.”

“I’ll do what I can Mark.” Your parents phone rings with no answer.

“If you really love me you will do what I say,” he orders.

You talk to your parents first. Then book a flight for eleven the next morning. You know you won’t get much sleep, if any, since Mark’s parties last into the wee hours of the morning. And he just gets so worked up you have sex for another half hour to an hour after the party depending on what party drug goes around. And you are right there by his side. Partying until dawn. Doing all the things he does. Half out of your minds in such a high state.

You are lucky there hadn’t been more than that one pregnancy scare. Neither of you were sure he used a condom, so you went for morning after pill just in case. Now he puts a condom on his nightstand before parties and when things get heated up, he gets wrapped up.

“Ok Mark, I have a flight for 11:00am.” You inform him. “I’ll go get my things packed up so I can be out the door at 8:00am. I’ll take an Uber since I suspect you won’t feel like driving until late afternoon. I’ll text you when I’m home.”

“Thanks babe,” He is still texting barely paying attention to what you said. “I can’t believe there are so many people turning down a party. They say they are already practicing social distancing. They are all just paranoid. I’m not sick, You’re not sick. Its fine to party a little as the world shuts down around us. Could be the last time we get together for a while.”

“It might be the last time we get together for a while,” you mumble dropping to couch as the weight of the situation hits you. “Mark?”

“What, babe?” He sits beside you. Kisses your neck, “I’m sorry Babe. This is usually our time. When we are both home from classes we always fuck. Just give me a little hand and I’m sure I’ll be up for it quick enough.”

You let him lay you back on the extra-large couch he specialty ordered. Then reach down to undo his jeans. He was half right. You do love routine. You pump his cock in your hand getting him ready.

“Mark, what if this evening is the last-time we see each other?” you murmur.

He groans, “No, I won’t let that happen.” He pulls your panties off. His head disappears under your dress to undo the front bra clasp with his teeth so he can fondle and suck on your breasts.

You pull your dress off. “Mmm Mark, I’ll be in Palm Beach and you will be in Salem.”

He looks up at you, “I will have no problem driving eighteen hours for this pussy.”

You cry out as he fills you up fully and starts to thrust powerfully, “Oh…Mark…” pelvis pushing back  against his thrusting in the heat of the moment. 

[laketaj24]

Queens of Odin’s Eye: Ch 11

A collaboration piece with the lovely bad asses: @courtrae89 @grungyblonde @imgoldielikehawn

Catch up HERE

Warnings: SMUT, Language 

“Harder. Oh, fuck yes.” I pant raking my nails down his back. Ubbe obliges thrusting up into me. Finally, some personal time with him. He seemed distant for some reason, but this was heaven. He groans in my ear rocking his hips once again and my body winds against his greedily.

“You like that?” He says gripping my thighs pulling my body closer to him. My walls clench around him and I can feel my orgasm building. “Fucking shit Kia.” His hips snap against mine again and again.

“Fucking yes.” The vibrations from the cell phone start and I want to hurl it at the wall as he stops reaching over and grabbing it, still nestled between my legs.

“Hvitserk,” He moves in me smiling. “This better be good.” I can hear the sobs through the line. “Wait! what!” Ubbe jumps up on the side of the bed and quickly slides on his pants. “Hvit!” He yells. “Where the fuck are you? We’re coming! Hvit-,” he looks at his phone the call screen gone. Ubbe dresses quickly sliding his gun into the back of his pants. “Babe, get dressed.” He growls.

“What happened?”

“Kia, get fucking dressed! For fuck’s sake just do what the fuck you’re told for one second.” He’s flustered his eyes watering and his hands shake as he reaches for his clothes. He slips into his cut walking out of our bedroom. “Hvitserk is hurt, holed up at the warehouse on Eighth. I need you to head to the clubhouse.”

“I can help.”

“You were literally in handcuffs three weeks ago. You aren’t even supposed to be fifty feet within another felon and you want to help?” he raises his eyebrow at me.

“Court handled him okay? I can do whatever you need me to do.”

“Get dressed please babe, I can’t even fucking think right now okay.” He kisses me turning into the kitchen dialing some numbers on his burner phone.

I dress throwing the mess of my hair in to a low ponytail and grabbing my helmet. I didn’t know where he wanted me to go or what he wanted me to do but I hoped that I could help him. Hvitserk might have been a pain in the ass but he was still a brother.

Ubbe takes me to the clubhouse where everyone is waiting. Ivar slams his hand against the steel door letting out a ferocious growl. “That fucking cunt!” he yells. “I want her fucking dead. A bullet to the damn head was right.’

Ragnar pulls Ivar’s arm. “We’ve sent in the police department. We’re just awaiting the news. Court said she would call Floki once she has eyes on him and we can head to the hospital. Everyone remain calm, being pissed off is only going to make it worst.”

Brii sat down next to me. Her arm brushes mine and she stills turning to me with humorous eyes. There is worry on my face but mostly just frustration. “What?”

“You mad you didn’t get to finish?” she chuckles.

“Bitch, if I didn’t love you I would lay your ass out. Stay out my head.” I further down the couch. “Gray has to fucking die. All she ever does is stir up shit. Bitch gets dick down and she still takes more pleasure fucking the club.”

“Well, we will get her.” Brii swigs on the beer looking over to Bjorn. “Some shit went down the other night.” She whispers.

“I heard you in the damn bathroom throwing that ass back, I ain’t gotta be psychic to see that shit.” I mock her careful to not touch her. “Was he worth it?”

“I mean, yes.”

“Alright then, you got your nut and fucked Bjorn over. I like it.” My eyes shift over to Ivar who is frustratedly talking to his father. It was maddening how he was the only person that I could think about sometimes.

A few minutes pass and Floki’s phone rings. He places it on speaker quieting everyone down. “Court.”

“It was an ambush.” She huffs. “The 8s were there holding Hvitserk. They released him, but a few got away. He’s bleeding out bad, I mean horribly, and he’s head to Kattegat Memorial Hospital. I have to do some questioning but it’s safe to say it’s fucking war between them now. I would get people to safe houses and work out a plan.”

“Thank you.” Floki hangs up looking to Ragnar. “Well.”

“I told all of you this shit would blow back in your faces! I gotta call my ladies they’ll for sure be coming after anybody that associates with you asshats.” She growls. “I’ve a damn flight to catch.

Ubbe growls. “There are not enough safe houses in the fucking world.”

“I thought a meeting was scheduled. Huh?” Ivar stares at Ubbe. “you all were supposed to have a fucking sit down with these fuckers. What happened?”

Rollo shrugs. “Every call made to them was denied.”

“I had bigger issues.” He says looking over to me.

“Get in touch with Roderick somehow and schedule a fucking sit down. If my son dies, I’m going fucking kill him.”

“You get upstate with Helga, Uriah and mom are already headed there.” Ubbe hands me the key to the charger. “Once this all blows over you can come back.”

“I’m not hiding. If Brii can stay so can I Ubbe. It shouldn’t be hard to help you guys out.” I watch him grow more frustrated. “I will not argue with you about it Ubbe. I want to be with you. I can’t sit idle.”

“Then sit down and shut up until it’s settled, okay. I don’t need you tagging along, you slow me down.”

Ivar interjects. “She’s a hell of a shot. She rode with me and Rollo. She could be useful.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you Ivar.” Ubbe grabs his keys. “I’m going to the hospital. Kia, when I come back you need to be gone. Prospects! Make sure she gets upstate.”

They nod and everyone starts to leave the clubhouse. We were all spread out like some fucking cowards. Rollo clutches my shoulder. “Ignore him, he’s just frustrated about his brother. He wants you safe.”

He leaves the room and it’s just Ivar behind the bar. “Are you okay with the way your husband talks to you? Disregards all of your strengths at times when you are being a crazy woman and good ass shot are useful.” He smiles trying to get something out of me. But this day was fucked. He hops the bar walking over to me.

I shouldn’t be smoking weed, likely not the best thing given my new parole officer but fuck it. I light the blunt and take a few hits off it. The smoke clouds in front of me. “Go visit your fucking brother, Ivar. I don’t need you comforting me.”

“No, you have a husband for that.” He says shaking his head. “Hvitserk will be fine, just a touch of karma for him trying to fuck us over for some pussy.” He takes the blunt from me inhaling a drag and then handing it back. “I can take you upstate.”

“fuck off.” I say placing it in the ashtray and walking away from him. Ivar follows me, nearly heel to heel. “What did I say huh?” I push him and he catches my hands clamping them down beside me. “Ivar.”

“I miss you and yeah I see you here every day. But you’re so fucking angry all the time. I miss the old you that laughed and made this place lighter.”

His hands are like vice grips. Pinning me against the wall. He smells like sandalwood and that damn deep cologne he always wore. I shift shaking my head. “You don’t think it’s fucked up how you do this to him.” Words are pointless with him. It’s in his eyes that he doesn’t care. He shakes his head kissing me. It’s a like a release once our lips connect, I breathe heavily kissing him deeply. Ivar Sinks to his knees unbuckling my pants before I can even object and he kisses thighs. He drapes my legs over his shoulders and his tongue laps at my clit over and over. He sucks and thrust and works his magic sending me to a headspace I’d only dreamed about of late. My hands are in his hair tugging and pulling until the wave of euphoria drifts me to the fucking stars.

And then the door opens.

“She has eyes on Gray!” Ragnar says and then I see him throw his fist into the wall. “Get the fuck up. Here you are fucking around! Your brothers are busy saving lives and shit, while you’re fucking your brother’s wife. Ivar, the meeting is set with the fucking Eights. Go scout the meeting place, Now!”

Ivar shakes his head stepping back. He says nothing rolling his eyes. “I’m out.”

“Take her, you said she was a good shot.” Ragnar sighs. “We need all the fucking help we can get. Just keep your fucking clothes on.” The door slams with Ivar out. Ragnar’s eyes cut to me. “I get it.” He says running his hands through his hair. “I understand your feeling for him. But it’s not the time.”

I shake my head leaving with Ivar. Ivar hands me my helmet not making eye contact with me. “That shit can’t happen again.” I yell. “Do you understand me?”

“Whatever,” Ivar says rolling his eyes.

“No! You don’t understand me. What me and Ubbe have isn’t perfect but that doesn’t mean you can take advantage of it. Our shit works, no matter how fucked up it seems. You don’t do it again!” I say with his face inches from mine.

“Fuck you, Kia. Keep up.” His bike roars to life and I follow his lead. The eights are posted outside their clubhouse heavily strapped in public. This shit could not be real. Ivar parks and helps me off my bike leading me to the corner.

“They are fucking loaded today.” I say.

“The guy I killed was the President’s Son. I just found it out a few days back.” He pauses. “We should lay low and let them the others know it’s likely no damn negotiations.”

“All this shit is too much.” I say stepping back feeling someone behind me. I turn around seeing the man with his gun aimed to my temple. “Fuck.”

Ivar cocks his weapon and in an instant it’s knocked to the ground and a black sack is through over his head. Then it all goes black with the sudden crack over my head.

  Taglist: @ivarsshieldmadien @equalstrashflavoredtrash @whenimaunicorn @akamaiden @siren-queen03 @titty-teetee @sparklemichele @greennightspider @tomarisela @scumyeol @raindrop-dewdrop @naaladareia @vikingsmania @readsalot73 @oddsnendsfanfics @amour-quinn @wheredidallthedreamersgo @unsure-but-trying @leaderradiante @microsmacrosandneedles @valynsia @captstefanbrandt  @therealcalicali @lol-haha-joke @b-j-d @cinnabearice  @tephi101  @killmongersmistress @readsalot73 @soaimagines @mostlikelypantsless @ivaraddict @dangerousvikings @kitkat1690 @starrmoondaisy

[fairest]

DIDN’T GO TO TWITTER YESTERDAY - September 12, 2018

Find your country. 

In the American food court of O’Hare’s Terminal 3, eating my bean & whole egg burrito from Burrito Beach, I thought, the Viet Cong were the Dirt Bag left of their time.

Except the Viet Cong knew how to kill red state Americans.

(At that time red states were blue, weird.)

The only thing the Dirt Bag left knows how to do is put two pictures side by side on a timeline.

But there is hope.

Maybe once, in the past, all the Viet Cong could do was tweet, too.

Maybe it’s only the beginning for the Dirt Bag Left and at the beginning there is only talking, organizing.

Right now it’s still the Truman years.

Dewey defeats Truman, Clinton defeats Trump.

Right now it’s still the French colonizing the American mind (all these poems hurt my feelings and all the Marx bullshit) and in 50 years we will find the right American words and we will remember how to die.

Project for an extremely online leftist: Google Image Viet Cong & Google Image Dirt Bag Left and place the images side by side on Twitter.

I have this note here: On the airplane, the milf reads her thriller.

I have this note here from long ago: a male pilot who misses his flight reading a romance novel.

Find your country.

Today, my wife’s 34th birthday, I saw a young man sitting on the curb, coming to the end of a novel.

The streets smelled of a rain that had passed over.

The farmer’s market band was singing: find. your. country. find your. country.

My wife was holding our son.

We were warmed by the cool sun, my honesty.

What my honesty has done to my perception, how it has allowed me to see things which I could never look at, because someone else was looking.

I asked my wife, is that The Corrections or The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay? And my wife said, it’s The Corrections.

Writers always look at the books people are reading.

In fact it’s one of the only things a writer can do.

It is hard for me to edit my novel during this outpouring because the characters in my third person omniscient novel live to deceive themselves, but here, for this waterworks, I am admitting myself (admit one) in the first person.

I was watching the farmer’s market band and thinking to myself, musician is the only honorable profession, everyone else is a scab.

How can you face yourself, sitting there looking at Visio and TweetDeck, when you could just as easily pick up that guitar and strum.

I can still see the couch where I finished The Corrections, a cheap college couch, I cried on the last page.

I only remember one sentence, it’s the only sentence I almost remember from a Franzen novel: ‘she was going to make some changes in her life’.

It comes at the very end. It’s about the character Enid Franzen. Chip Franzen’s mommy. 

The novel ends on a note of supreme, mainstream hope, an almost Bellovian hope.

Nothing says hope more than making changes.

Hope: One day Mr. Sammler goes to bed with the right papers.

Who was the Tolstoy of the Jews? 

Franzen the Great. Our last great male Jewish novelist.

It was also the couch where AbercrombieAnnie1983 (the best screw[s]of my life) told me she had herpes, and I said so I can’t see you anymore (I can’t fuck you anymore) I can’t love you anymore (I won’t fuck you with a disease). 

I can still smell Annie’s pussy and now you can too. It wasn’t odorless like Kardashian pussy, it had a focused smell.

I used to write things like that in MFA school and people would look at me with hatred, disgust, like they were my grandmother, so I tried to stop doing it.

Style is what you are trying to stop doing?

All of that was in my head for different periods of time and different amounts of headspace, standing in the cool sun listening to the farmer’s market band run through the changes for Find Your Country, on my wife’s birthday.

My wife is a the one. 

That’s not a typo, my wife is a ‘the one’.

It took Karl Ove 240 or so pages to leave his wife, go back to his MFA school, propose love to his mistress or some girl he used to know in college…. 

It would take me eleven million words to leave my wife.

It’s just hard to imagine.

When I see my wife’s friends I think, you gals have aged. When I see my wife she looks the same as she did the day before I met her.

As a good man (I am a good man, my father is a great man, my grandfather was an OK man, his father was a bad, bad man) I searched long and hard for a the one and when I find a the one my memory was erased.

Even AbercrombieAnnie1983 (in 2001) is gone.

It takes 5-7 generations for the badness of man to reach full flavor.

For best results, drink 3 to 4 generations per day.

I read a clearly engaging essay yesterday by Charles Finch … who I know in real life … hi Charles ... but he is not the Charles I mentioned yesterday ... who said ... critics are bitter people … about Karl Ove and it reminded me how part of Karl Ove’s Q&A … like when an indie bookstore talks to Karl Ove … what they Q&A about … is that he “gave up” on art.

Like he “gave up” on art the way Henry Miller gave up on art when he broke the sound barrier of the autobiographical novel, but like Andy told me that time in Vilnius, nobody reads Henry Miller anymore, Stuart, and I added in my own head, not even me.

Miller once said it got to the point of madness where no matter what I said about the man I could have easily have said the exact opposite.

Although I’m back in New York … that’s why I was at the airport this morning thinking about the Viet Cong … and I always bring Aller Retour New York in my bag when I come back, although I haven’t opened it for 12 years or so, and I didn’t bring it this time, I brought Eros the Bittersweet instead, which got Burrito Beach red salsa sauce on it and now is kind of fucked up.

Karl Ove fits easily into Algren’s criticism of Henry Miller: the problem with Karl Ove is that he thinks he thinks.

Much more than Miller himself does.

That’s my problem. I think I think.

This reminds me a lot of David Frum.

I feel like I made fun of David Frum the last few days but I don’t know David Frum.

Making fun of people you don’t know is for people who go to Twitter. 

I didn’t go to Twitter yesterday.

Sorry David Frum.

Thought about tweeting yesterday: 

At the Tribeca Target, my wife said even the mannequins are fat now, and I told her she should tweet that. I’m not going to tweet it’s insane that Tribeca has a Target.

I came to this sentence in Charles’ essay, which gave me a painful pang of recognition: writers who leave more questions than they answer.

I thought to myself, am I a desperate amateur who thinks he thinks and leaves more questions than I answer?

I wrote a humor piece … the only literary criticism possible for me … since literature is hilarious … about Karl Ove … this was like five years ago … I wrote it in Managua … because Dario is boring in English … it was about why Karl Ove is famous … because people like to say ‘Karl Ove’ … you know … like the Seinfeld joke about salsa … that people only like salsa because they like to say salsa … you know I’d been to parties … and people said Karl Ove … but when they said Karl Ove they didn’t mean Karl Ove … they meant themselves … like when they say David Foster Wallace they don’t mean David Foster Wallace … they mean themselves … I did a search for the unpublished article a few moments ago … I was going to send it to HTMLGiant or The Awl at the time … I must’ve erased it … if you’re interested, I’ll leave a broken link to it in show notes.

Giving up is something only men can do.

I have this note here: something only men can do.

I have this note here: A list of verbs from mammals before humans that humans can also do but it’s just the kind of “good writing” with “strong, interesting verbs”: crawl, pounce, slither, wag, others? Use them during editing process.

Women are not allowed to give up.

Men are allowed to give up when they want to harness creativity.

That Picasso line … it took me a lifetime to learn how to paint like a child … if a woman said that she would be laughed out of the salon.

Don’t paint like a child, grow up, paint like a man.

Sometimes I wonder if female writers are burning up, they have ten thousand words to go, and they look over at their husband, and he’s fast asleep. 

I don’t give up.

I am trying pretty hard right now.

I detest creativity.

I am uninterested in the expanding of my mind I want a long, drawn out compression that lasts longer they I could with AbercrombieAnnie1983.

Creativity takes me always from behind. 

It’s weird my president is mad at Nike, they make a shoe called Air Force One, then again he likes his own plane.

Creativity takes a step back for a moment, long after I am miles ahead.  

I am scared of creativity. 

American writers spend a long time being afraid of advertising.

It takes an American writer 900,000 private words before they can say to themselves: fuck advertising.

The Charles Mingus composition Myself When I Am Real, how does it go again, is it a vamp or a romp? Is it a song, or a book? 

For the longest time as a child I would think to myself, I am not creative enough.

I believe in God, saints, angles—the triune stumbling block to creativity. But I don’t believe in fairies, goblins, witches, Batman, the ruling class, late capitalism, planets with more than one moon … Luke Skywalker’s farming planet … I never believed that shit.

If a woman gave up on art man would say, cool have a kid.

I have a note here about men’s bodies that make my cock move: the young falafeltarian waiters wear tight white polos. Does a man still starch a polo these days? My fantasy: their nails clipped in half-moons.

I wrote my wife a card for her birthday.

Happy birthday my love. The wine was dark. The food clean. The service sucked. The conversation spoke to us. There will never be another you.

I wrote her a card from our son, too.

I am scared to die for my country. 

My son might not be. 

I wrote it out with my right hand to be cute (editor’s note: the desperate amateur who thinks he thinks asking more questions than he can answer is, IRL, a lefty). 

Writing the card backward was a notable experience.

I fucked up cute all words except the word Mommy. 

I write mommy almost if not equally well with my right hand as with my left. 

Maybe it’s because I have so much hope.

I have so much hope for the world, my son, my wife, my mommy even though she is old.

My mama’s got cancer in her breast, don’t ask me why I’m motherfucking stressed, things done changed.

I hug my wife, between us our son.

Find Your Country.

Hold your influences close.

Hold your closest influence closer.

[aminellelia-blog]

Fifty Shades of Grey Parody

This is my very first Tumblr post. I originally wrote this parody last year and posted it on Fanfiction.net, but now I decided to share it here too. If you like Fifty Shades of Grey I recommend you don’t read this story. It’s making fun of it to the fullest extent, because I really don’t like it.

All characters that aren’t part of the original story are covered in bold.

Enjoy!

We pan over Seattle. Bella-err, Anastasia Steele (not sure if it's supposed to be a subtle take on a sex toy) is a cute, clumsy, virginal, college student living there, trying to embody as many of the average female viewers as possible. Spoiler alert: she's less relatable than Bella Swan, which is ironic considering where her flatness originated from.

ANASTASIA'S BOTTOM LIP: OH. EM. GEE. I'm going to be a star!

KATE: Bella, I'm sick, so you'll have to interview that super, hot, sexy, although-kind-of-rapey-but-excused-because-he's-hot guy I was going to interview.

ANASTASIA: I've seen enough porn to know where this is going. YES! I've always wanted to say that line where it made sense.

KATE: Don't push it, girl. You're just interviewing him.

ANASTASIA: And I'm getting a piece of that.

AUDIENCE: Have all innocent-minded asexuals in the world miraculously moved to Mars?

Anastasia finds the bigass building owned by Edward Christian Cullen Grey. Huh, last time I watched *Secretary* he just owned a small office. Blown-up barbie human dolls meet her and is led to the predator's office. Ana, run. RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN, ya dense cow. To be cute, she stumbled over the flat threshold, which I have no idea how you possibly can.

CHRISTIAN: That's so adorable. Wanna have sex?

ANASTASIA: Sex is a tea flavor, right?

CHRISTIAN: Hominah. My name is Christian Grey. While you're on your knees anyway, suck my cock, hoe.

ANASTASIA: What an interesting euphemism for interview. My name is Anastasia St-pff! My friend is sick with the flu and asked me to come here being your next victim in her place. Though, I don't know how a man with toddler eyes could be dangerous.

CHRISTIAN: A slut's mouth shouldn't be moving more than necessary, so get on with your 10-minute interview.

ANASTASIA: Aight. Here's a question every sane viewer asks: How come you are so much richer at a younger age than Mark Zuckerberg was despite not doing shit?

CHRISTIAN: OMG, you stupid, f*cking bitch. How dare you ask me a good question. I can't believe your insolence. Kill yourself.

ANASTASIA: Well?

CHRISTIAN: It's not very relevant, is it? What is relevant is my filthy rich viper up your low-class clam shell.

ANASTASIA: Vipers and clam shells?

CHRISTIAN: Trust me, when it comes to the themes in this film, those are really the best metaphors.

ANASTASIA: Yeah, then...what is your interest outside of work?

CHRISTIAN: Didn't I already answer that? Enough with your audacity. Give me an actual question, if your inferior-to-men mind can afford that, you filthy lowlife.

ANASTASIA: Are you gay? Ain't I cute, reading and spitting out whatever before thinking.

CHRISTIAN: Another good question. What the hell is wrong with you?

ANASTASIA: Morton's Fork is at play, I see.

CHRISTIAN: If you must know, no.

ANASTASIA: Are you a self-serving asshole?

CHRISTIAN: Finally something relevant. Yes, I am. Now, do you have a question you want to ask me instead of your friend's?

ANASTASIA: You've spent this time insulting me and then you ask for my viewpoint. Heh. Okay.

CHRISTIAN: Shut it, hole-to-please-men. I just want to pry and see if you're up for sitting upon this lance or not. Let me give you subtle suggestiveness about it.

ANASTASIA: … You said you're an asshole. Why do I get the feeling that's not true?

AUDIENCE: Because you're numb in the upper story?

A secretary comes in and interrupts the so-called interview. More like a director-to-actor conversation.

SECRETARY: Mr. Grey, you have a meeti-

CHRISTIAN: Are you serious? We only talked for four minutes!

SECRETARY: OH! Yeah. Sorry. My bad. *Leaves*

CHRISTIAN eyes ANASTASIA with a creepy intensity that would rival Hugh Hefner's erection.

CHRISTIAN: I can't be standin' my stupid bitches. At least you seem bland, and that be good enough for me. How about finishin' your finals, then you becomin' my bottom bitch?

ANASTASIA: Throwing away my promising potential future career for becoming a mindless sex slave to a guy who can't stop staring down my vag? I'll think about it. It'll most likely be yes. Who am I kidding, it's yes. Otherwise there would be no plot to speak of.

AUDIENCE: In this case, it would be a good thing.

CHRISTIAN does the rarest thing next to platinum, being an actual gentleman walking ANASTASIA to the elevator. When she walks in, he steals the sheet with questions from her papers without her noticing.

CHRISTIAN: Joinkity-joink!

ANASTASIA walks out, where it conveniently rains. That sex joke was old 20 years ago.

ANASTASIA: Holy Hindu's Cow, that insulting business man made me cream myself, oh so help me. I'm gonna domesticate dat ass.

ANASTASTIA'S VAGINA: Finally, I get to see the light of day!

ANASTASIA'S BOTTOM LIP: LET'S WORK TOGETHER TO TAME HIM!

ANASTASIA'S VAGINA: YAY!

ANASTASIA'S BRAIN: Can I join the party, too?

ANASTASIA'S CLIT: Shove it, punk.

ANA goes home to her and KATE's dorm. KATE is sitting writing their report-thingamajig upon her arrival.

KATE: So how was he?

ANA: Polite, clean, courteous… oh, who am I kidding, he was a douchebag.

KATE: EEEEEE I SHIP IT SO HARD! … did you f*ck?

ANA: Heck, no! I think it will take time getting his misogyny to consent to that. By the way, that "gay" question, total dick move.

KATE: We as a society have to know everything, we can't leave it alone, we have to know every single detail.

ANA: Stop sounding like the 4chan community.

KATE steals ANA'S sandwich she was making.

ANA: You motherf*ck-, you just don't steal sandwiches! You just don't, EVER! Never mind, I will try to get one with the toppings of Grey's mojo… wait did I say that out loud? Holy crap crappity crap crap inner goddess subconscious!

KATE: OMG FAVORITE SHIP OF ALL TIME.

AUDIENCE: … planet Earth sucks.

ASEXUALS: Told ya so!

We get a montage of ANA going to class and meeting her friend JOSÉ when she goes on her way to work.

JOSÉ: Hey, uh… I love you and care about you. I'll show this by being genuinely courteous and caring.

ANA: I'm sorry, but I'm into dicks who want to hurt me by sticking giant Hitachi Magic Wands up my butt. See ya!

JOSÉ: … I can do that, too…

AUDIENCE: DUDE. NO. IT AIN'T WORTH IT.

FAN AUDIENCE: Even we agree.

ANASTASIA gets to her work shift and her phone rings; it's her mother stating she's not coming to her graduat-*yawn* this is not relevant to a wiener pushed up a cooch, so who honestly watching this drivel would give a flying fladoodle? We want action, dammit!

AUDIENCE: Not that we're expecting any worth jacking off to.

CHRISTIAN: *stalking*

ANA: *sees him* Holy shit… I'm so turned on right now.

CHRISTIAN: Pleasant meeting you, future slav- I mean, Ms. Steele…-y Dan. That will be your pet name, oh yeah.

ANA: Just Ana. If you're going to continue stalking me, at least don't be too polite.

AUDIENCE: Yeah, except he was already out of that game to begin with by stalking you. And by being an asshole. And by raping you with his eyes.

CHRISTIAN: Fyi, my sweet ragmuffin, I'm actually here on business. *cough*excepti'mactuallynotandiactuallywantdatass*cough*

ANA: What can I help you with?

CHRISTIAN: Give me some rap- err, rope to strangl- I mean, tie you up- I mean, use erotic asphyxation for- I mean…

ANA: Rope?

CHRISTIAN: … Yeah, rope. Just plain "rope". Let's go with that…

More useless dialogue… Putting in random Tom & Jerry skits would tell the story better.

CHRISTIAN: *senseless flirting*

ANA: *holy-crap-he-talks-to-lil'-ol'-me-blush*

FAN AUDIENCE: Squeeee!111 OMG HE SOH SEXEHH!

AUDIENCE: Quiet! I'm trying to think of a way to excuse myself out of watching this.

FAN AUDIENCE: You just don't get it!

AUDIENCE: Uh, yeah, we do. We really do, pumpkin.

ANA: Thank you for buying at Clayton's, please come again have a great day, bye mmkay!

CHRISTIAN: Here's my phone number. I'm saying I'm offering original photos for your report by giving you this, but it's actually rapist-ese for "I want to penetrate your posterior".

ANA: Thanks come again. *he leaves, beat* I would masturbate now, but I'm so virginal and mentally 12-years old I don't even know how to.

AUDIENCE: Seriously? Just… seriously? Did you get an African circumcision or something?

The poopshoot-photo shoot happen fiddiddlediddlydoo. Of course, he asked her for coffee afterwards, like, the biggest shock since Donald Trump messing up as president… in case you don't get it, not shocking.

CHRISTIAN: Is José your boyfriend?

ANA: No.

CHRISTIAN: Is Paul your boyfriend?

ANA: No.

CHRISTIAN: Then no one will protect you from my sword's impending wrath. Perfect.

ANA: ?

AUDIENCE: The possessive streak isn't a warning signal.

FAN AUDIENCE: Dude, what the hell are you on about?

AUDIENCE: We're just counting the million things not inside Ana's brain. This is one of them, right behind sexual education and common sense.

FAN AUDIENCE: Dude, shut the f*ck up.

AUDIENCE: Nope. You get entertained by this, we get entertained by our thoughts. Win-win.

They go out for coffee. He would much rather do other things involving coffee with her, and I ain't talking about drinking it.

ANA: Woah, scolding hot.

CHRISTIAN: And I would ejaculate if it were all over you burning your skin and making you scream in pain- err, I mean, blow on it. Not just on it, but on my-

ANA: I find you intimidating.

CHRISTIAN: Clever hawk.

ANA: I also find you a high-maintenance obsessed jerk.

CHRISTIAN: Then why do you find me interesting?

ANA: The plot wants me to.

CHRISTIAN: Oh, right. So anyway, your family, what are they like? They must be just as interesting and colorless as you. (Finally got that pesky getting-to-know-her-question out of the way…)

ANA: My dad Ray is cool, and my mom is a romanti-

CHRISTIAN: Jab, jab jab. You?

ANA: Am I romantic? I'm an English major, so yes, I am. Because you have to be a linguist to be able to be passionate with words, and your entire personality hinges on your occupation. Also, this is a complete lie. I'm not romantic. I can't be if I'm lusting after you. But I like to think I am.

CHRISTIAN: *ahw shiet look* I can't deal with delusional dumbasses right now. Come, I'll walk you out, you can't do it yourself.

ANA: Because I'm so stupid?

CHRISTIAN: No, because you're a girl.

AUDIENCE: 100 million. 100 million dollars… *sob*

They go outside for the closest thing this movie can have for DRAMA. The scene is a bigger insult to the word than Ana's wet stain in her panties.

ANA: Look, if you have a girlfriend…

CHRISTIAN: I don't. I'm just going to pretend to have a shred of humanity in me by giving you one last warning that I'm everything you can't want, not that moronic girls like you like bad boys and will want to come back to them. Because this movie likes degrading women and making men into domineering overlords, in case you couldn't tell.

ANA: …OMG I'm going to sob and think about you and watch Nicholas Sparks films while eating chocolate ice-cream and be such a chick about it OMG boohoo! *runs off*

CHRISTIAN: …dammit, I'm horny now. Better find a prostitute.

AUDIENCE: I hope to find something to jack off to myself. Like the bicycle that just ran by and almost hit Ana in the shot.

FAN AUDIENCE: Jeez, you're still going?

ANA and KATE finished their exams and now they're going to party, because assuming you got passed in an exam without knowing first is cause for celebration. And, of course, along with being virginal like a rock in space without the company of another rock, she gets completely plastered. Aww, ain't that just the cutest thing ever?

AUDIENCE: When Rock Lee did it, yes.

FAN AUDIENCE: But, he destroyed everything in his path when drunk?

AUDIENCE: Exactly.

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: Let's up our game in cuteville.

ANA: *not having yet deleted him as contact for some reason, calls Christian* :D

CHRISTIAN: *picks up* Hello?

ANA: Hello. So, uh, this is my cute call to say I need you, man. Dude, I love you. Get over here so we can continue this plot already, you sexy fox. You're so bossy, tho. You need to stop being so controlling, I'm my own woman and I'll get what I want, and that is your dong in my throat.

AUDIENCE: Normally you become stupid when drunk, but she must be so stupid it goes the opposite way or something.

CHRISTIAN: Is this a booty call?

ANA: It's whatever you want it to be, baby. *hangs up*

JOSÉ comes out for the matter-of-time rejection scene with Ana as she has gone outside.

JOSÉ: I love you. Let's kiss.

ANA: No. I don't wannnaaaaa…

JOSÉ: No equals yes equals no equals yes equals no equals yes. Even numbers! That means you want to swallow my tongue. Let's get to it.

CHRISTIAN intervenes and pushes him away, trying to be a knight in shining armor, but since he is who he is, it's more like a kidnapping from the real knight in shining armor by comparison.

CHRISTIAN: Back off man, she's my future rape victim. Get your own.

JOSÉ: *rejected nice guy cockerspaniel eyes* *Leaves*

CHRISTIAN: Let's get you to my apartment.

ANA: No, thanks. I'm with Kate.

CHRISTIAN: I ordered my brother Elliot to go "Date Kate, she's willin'!"-

(A/N: I apologize for that reference, dear folks, but I have to maintain my sanity somehow)

CHRISTIAN: -because siblings are my bitches, too. You're coming with me now, I won't take no for an answer, you're useless by yourself.

ANA: *intimidated* Okay.

AUDIENCE: Crazy f*ck.

FAN AUDIENCE: Aww, he cares about her.

AUDIENCE: I'm pretty sure taking somebody home in hopes of screwing the shit out of them wouldn't fall under the "caring" category in the average dictionary.

FAN AUDIENCE: …is there an off switch on you?

AUDIENCE: So no one with actual brains can sarcastically comment on this to others amusement and make them want to kill themselves less? What do you think, genius?

Ana wakes up in Christian's apartment the next morning. Without even seeing him, hearing him, smelling him or using any of the other five main senses, he's already giving her orders in poor Alice in Wonderland references on the bedside table.

ALICE IN WONDERLAND REFERENCE: I'm only in it for the money.

ANA: Oh my God, an odd moment of out-of-characterness (the most I can have, anyway) makes me realize waking up like this is creepy. I mean, I'm undressed. And where did you sleep?

CHRISTIAN: Next to you.

ANA: OH. MY. GOD.

CHRISTIAN: Don't worry, necrophilia is not my thing.

ANA: What's that got to do with anything?!

CHRISTIAN: … *sigh* I didn't have sex with your sleeping body.

ANA: Why didn't you just say so? What the hell did you mention necrophilia for?

AUDIENCE: Because E.L. James and Sam-Taylor Johnson feel so smug that they know a complicated word they forgot to look up the actual meaning behind it.

ANA'S SUBCONSCIOUS: Don't worry, that's kind of their thing.

CHRISTIAN: *throws toast at Ana* EAT.

ANA: NO. *throws it back*

CHRISTIAN: I ain't playing catch *throws it back* EAT.

ANA: *succumbs, takes a bite*

CHRISTIAN: I'm picking up new clothes for you, too. The ones you wore looked like shit.

ANA: Because I puked on them?

CHRISTIAN: Yeah, that too. *takes off shirt for absolutely no reason*

ANA'S VAGINA: Hominah hominah hominah hominah

FAN AUDIENCE: HELL YEAH, WE'RE FINALLY IN FOR KINKY STUFF!

AUDIENCE: Kill me…

CHRISTIAN'S ABS: Hey, baby, wanna go back to my place?

ANA'S CLIT: You bet your ass I wanna!

CHRISTIAN'S ABS: Cool. Let's just hope our hosts agree.

ANA'S CLIT: GDAMMIT.

ANA'S BRAIN: LOL!

ANA'S CLIT: STFU

ANA: Why did you take me here?

CHRISTIAN: Haven't I made that clear a million times already? I can't leave your sexy pooper alone, because I wanna do it.

ANA: …then don't. Leave it alone, I mean.

ANA'S CLIT: LOL!

ANA'S BRAIN: STFU

CHRISTIAN: You don't understand… oddly enough. I'm into BDSM. I like hardcore spanking-your-ass-til-you-bleed kink. I'm not into romance, I only like the aspects coming from it. You wouldn't be able to handle it.

ANA: Wanna bet?

CHRISTIAN: …50 bucks?

ANA: Deal. But I'll have to work first. Let's meet at 7 pm.

CHRISTIAN: 'Kay.

ANA'S BOTTOM LIP: *attention whoring*

CHRISTIAN: I'd like to bite that lip.

AUDIENCE: *snort laugh* I'm sorry, that's… just… beautiful. This would make an awesome comedy film. Just leave out the violent abuse, and you've got material better than Adam Sandler's.

CHRISTIAN: But I want you to write consent to that.

ANA: Ok.

AUDIENCE: *ROARING LAUGHTER*

FAN AUDIENCE: What's so funny? Lip-biting may be classified as rape in Wyoming!

They go to the elevator to take Ana home, with the latter doing some more cute lip-biting.

CHRISTIAN: That's a dealbreaker!

AND SEXY MAKEOUT TIEMZ ARE HAD LMAO.

They get to Ana's apartment and MORE SEXY TIEMZ ARE HAD… by Kate and Elliot, that is.

FAN AUDIENCE: Oh, come ON! When are the things we paid for coming?

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: Patience. If we made it shorter, the movie would be cheape- I mean, the movie wouldn't follow the original novel.

ANA: Okay, I did not have to see that.

CHRISTIAN: Only if it were you and I in a mirror. *slasher smile*

ANA: Whu…?

The boys leave for the girls to have girls talk which is stupid as per usual. (A/N: Before you say anything, I'm female. Who find this kind of girl talk stupid. I'm not explaining it further).

KATE: Now did you f*ck?

ANA: No.

KATE: Damn! How slow are you, girl?

ANA: I barely know him, Kate.

KATE: So what?

AUDIENCE: Because true love doesn't have to revolve around sex and in actuality comes down to respect and understanding from both parties' ends and being happy just spending time with your partner in terms and ways that aren't constantly related to your genitals?

FAN AUDIENCE: Ha! What kind of gay theory is that?

AUDIENCE: The theory from dawn of time.

FAN AUDIENCE: …Well, the world is progressing.

AUDIENCE: Negatively, yes.

FAN AUDIENCE: For crying out loud, when will you shut up?!

AUDIENCE: When they give up on continuing the series.

FLYING-IN-A-STUPID-HELICOPTER-MONTAGE: *plays music by Ellie Goulding far surpassing the quality of this film*

Their helicopter ride got them to an apartment more classy than any mansion somewhere else, which isn't where they were before at least, and wine is had. There is a non-disclosure agreement set on the table in front of Ana.

ANA: What is that?

CHRISTIAN: It's a contract with terms and conditions about discussing our relationship, sexually or no, with anyone. My frickin' lawyer is involved with it, because rutting back and forth is formal business.

ANA: Wow, I had no idea you were so organized. That's hot.

AUDIENCE: Controlling is more like it.

ANA signs it without reading its entirety, making her agree to become a HUMANCENTiPAD with two others that… oh, sorry, wrong show. I just find that scene more arousing than anything in this.

ANA: Are you gonna make love to me now?

CHRISTIAN: I don't make love. I f*ck. Hard.

AUDIENCE: That line is too magnificent to comment on.

FAN AUDIENCE: GOOD. I was about to bash your head in.

Ana isn't frightened, because those words are calming for a virgin. She asks why this is, and he takes her to his "playroom".

CHRISTIAN: Beyond this door, there's a playroom.

ANA: Like your Xbox and stuff?

AUDIENCE: How the hell are you 21?

CHRISTIAN: If by Xbox you mean anal play thing, then yes. Not that I would expect a hair-brained idiot like you to use sexual euphemisms.

He takes out a key.

CHRISTIAN: Anyway, know that you can leave at any time. If it's too much for you, I completely understand. Just know that the helicopter is outside and I'm not forcing you into anything. Just relax, don't panic when you see it, just tell me. Calm down, calm down CALM DOWN CALM DOWN!

ANA: YOOUUUU calm down!

AUDIENCE: The Three Stooges slapstick would be comedy gold right now.

ANA: Try me, Mr. Man.

ANA'S BRAIN has been beaten to unconsciousness by the other three main emotions of hers.

ANA'S CLIT: Welcome to kinkville, faggot.

The door is opened, and she's presented to the very sexual definition of "playroom".

ANA: HOLY SHIT.

In terror, she looks at his perverted stash of sex toys. Stepping forward, she takes an even breath and touches one of them thoughtfully. Christian walks up behind her.

CHRISTIAN: That's a flogger.

ANA: Yeah, because when I see a room full of sexual equipment meant for blurring the thin line between pain and pleasure I'm not even familiar with as I'm a virgin I wonder what the hell a feathery sex toy is called.

CHRISTIAN: Didn't you?

ANA: …yeah, I did.

CHRISTIAN: Well, then. What do you think?

SILENCE: *appropriate*

CHRISTIAN: Say something. Please.

ANA: Well, sorry, but this is a lot to take in! I have never had sex, after all! Do you expect me to just up and "This is cool, let's roleplay as Batman and Catwoman while I'm tied up in the most humanly degrading position possible with these ropes over here"?

CHRISTIAN: …yes? I mean, only if you want me to.

AUDIENCE: Well, how the heck can she know if she wants to, dumbass?

CHRISTIAN: Well, I'm a dominate. That means I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me. There are my set of rules I want you to follow; if you follow them, reward awaits. If you don't, you'll be punished.

ANA: By using this stuff on me?

CHRISTIAN: No, by saying mean things to you that would hurt your widdle feewings- of course with this stuff, lummox!

AUDIENCE: You know that South Park fanfiction "Kyle in Chains"? That story explained BDSM a hell of a lot better.

FAN AUDIENCE: That story didn't even revolve around BDSM.

AUDIENCE: Exactly.

ANA: What would I get out of this?

CHRISTIAN: Aside from bruises? Me.

ANA: And if I refuse?

CHRISTIAN: You won't be getting me, genius. That's how bargains work.

They leave the room to head for a different room.

CHRISTIAN: If you agree, this will be your room during the weekends while we spend the entirety of it having hardcore sex in mine. We'll discuss negotiations later and sounding so formal when talking about something so ridiculous as this is just laughable.

ANA: …what if I wanted you in a romantic way?

CHRISTIAN: That will never work.

ANA: But-

CHRISTIAN: I said no. I can only have this type of relationship. I only get off on making my girls suffer. Being tender and loving towards them makes me sick to my stomach. It's so gay. Because people practicing bondage don't have feelings and are cold-hearted monsters like me.

ANA: Aren't you being a bit close-mi-

CHRISTIAN: No, I'm not. Now shut up.

AUDIENCE: F*cking bigot.

CHRISTIAN: Now, I have a contract prepared detailing what kind of pain I want to serve on your pretty little ass. I'll let you decide what I can do to you, except I will not.

ANA: I wouldn't know how. Because like my naïvity about this subject has strongly implied during the last few days, I'm a virgin.

CHRISTIAN: What is that, what is vur-geen? Never heard of it. *gets whispered information by Sam-Taylor Johnson* Holy crap, that's a concept?!

He retaliates in shock and rests his forehead in his palm.

CHRISTIAN: Just… a life without sex. What kind of life is that? Is it the life of the dismayed? Do you live in New Jersey?

ANA: Maybe lives don't revolve around sex.

CHRISTIAN: Dare say that again and I will slap the shit out of you.

AUDIENCE: And we all know perfectly well you'd follow up on that word.

Christian empathically cradles her face in his hands, feeling sorry for her for something one shouldn't feel sorry for anyone about.

CHRISTIAN: Poor baby. You don't know how it feels to be penetrated by a pink-headed womb broom in your octopus taco? My God. I can't imagine the pain you're enduring.

ANA: Um… I'm not hurting.

CHRISTIAN: Yes, you are. Without knowing it. I don't know how you can feel pain without knowing it, but that's beside the point. I need to save your honor by f*cking you until your pussy has turned to mush.

ANA: Didn't you say you wouldn't touch me until I wrote my consent?

CHRISTIAN: Look, you want me to make tender, passionate, affectionate love to you or not?

ANA: *instantly forgets what she just said* Of course, *swoony-woony*. Let's hit the sack, bad boy!

AUDIENCE: Finally! Let's see if the trailers put the money where their mouths are.

They take an awful long time to strip each other…

AUDIENCE: Okay…?

Take more time stripping one another…

AUDIENCE: OKAY?

Now he's slowly caressing her from top to bottom.

AUDIENCE (ANGRY VIDEO GAME NERD VOICE): WHAT THE F*CK?!

FAN AUDIENCE: *smiles awkwardly*

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: Perfect! That fills the tenderness quota for the film. Now, what more can arouse the viewer? Ah, yes, close-ups of Dakota's nipples and Jamie's hairy ass, of course!

AUDIENCE: *grossed out*

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: And his refusal to let her touch him during her first time is so hot OMGGG, I'm 'bout to bust my puss… OH… OOOOHHHHHHH…. Ah, done. Get me some tissues, E.L James. I'm finished.

E.L. JAMES: THAT WAS BLOODY AWESOME, I GOTTA SAY! There's no way any one can not get hot and bothered by this.

FAN AUDIENCE: …WTF. We paid to see porn! Instead we got close-ups of skin and poorly-acted orgasms.

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: You paid to see Fifty Shades of Grey. Now shut up and beat it. Literally. 'Cause this is what you're getting.

FAN AUDIENCE: FFFFMMMLLL…

Some more SMEXY TIEMZ are had, but it further reinforces the wish among the audience that they could be watching a good-quality video of drying paint instead. Because it would be more sexually stimulating than anything we've been shown so far, including the hot tub sex…

AUDIENCE: You know? I would be a million times more excited had the main characters been Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling instead.

FAN AUDIENCE: But he's literally a murderous psychopath!

AUDIENCE: Exa-*gets punched by fans* -oof!

ANA: So where's the 50 bucks you owe me?

CHRISTIAN: Not so fast, I have yet to- *hears steps downstairs* oh, shit! Mommy's here!

CHRISTIAN'S BOLOGNIA WAND: Retreat! Retreat!

ANA'S BRAIN: So I guess this is the only sense of dignity he has, huh?

ANA'S CLIT: You still alive, asshole?

They go downstairs to greet Christian's mother (whom is not the one described in the book as the "crack whore" I hope…)

CHRISTIAN'S MOM: Hey, how is my baby today? Is he feeling like the same shit-load amount of money he's got for doing nothing but sexing random ladies up?

CHRISTIAN: MOOOOOOOOOMMM, I was having a lady over for SEEEEEEEEXXX…

CHRISTIAN'S MOM: Hush, dear, I know you have to do something to not bore yourself to death in your spoiled rotten rich life.

CHRISTIAN: *childish pout*

Ana reaches her hand out to greet her hopefully-not-future-mother-in-law, which the latter grabs.

ANA: Hello~

CHRISTIAN'S MOM: Oh, you must be his new toy! It is a pleasure to meet you, the 105th girl in his woman-of-the-week-parade. How's your bottom?

ANA: Well-

CHRISTIAN'S MOM: Oh my, you must be a very special girl whom he could hopefully settle down with forever; I've never met such a chunk of platinum like you! How would you like to come to a family dinner so we could get more acquianted with a rare gem such as yourself?

ANA: Umm…

CHRISTIAN's MOM: Perfect. I'll make the arrangements. You just go get yourself ready in that wedding gown, sweetheart.

CHRISTIAN: Uhm, mommy? Shut up. You're embarrassing me.

CHRISTIAN'S MOM: My dear boy, don't be embarrassed. I think you and her could become something. She's so extraordinary compared to all the other strumpets you've fooled around with. I just look at her and think perfection.

ANA: Fart.

CHRISTIAN'S MOM: EXCELLENCE! Well, I'll be heading out now.

AUDIENCE: Just a heads up, she didn't really say "fart", we just put it there because she might as well have.

FAN AUDIENCE: How are you able to do that?

AUDIENCE: Sarcasm is a superpower, numbskull. Have you lived under a rock among brainless babies on North Sentinel Island in the Bay of Bengal or something?

FAN AUDIENCE: What?

AUDIENCE: What?

AUTHOR OF THIS PARODY: *obviously out of sarcasm fuel*

The duo, not couple, comedy DUO, goes upstairs to have some penis-to-vag, err, heart-to-heart. They can't even have brain-to-brain… or foot-to-foot for that matter.

ANA: *suddenly jealous* How many women have stayed in here?

CHRISTIAN: *quick* 15.

ANA: That's a lot of women…

AUDIENCE: Nah, sweet-ums, you're barely scratching the surface. He has had more women than there are Undertale AUs.

FAN AUDIENCE: And how do you know that?

AUDIENCE: How do you not know that?

ANA: I still don't want out. You're shaking with anticipation of beating me senseless in ways thinly veiled as pleasurable, not promising any tenderness and romance whatsoever despite you having said that's what I want, and not claiming you'll stop being a control freak in every little aspect of my life. But I still don't want out. I'm now going to contradict what I just said by being catty about agreeing to it.

CHRISTIAN: Well, your call. I promise, it will be very pleasurable and satisfying to be doing hardcore kink even when it's a new thing to you and may not be your thing after all. Just ignore the bleeding out of your pink sock and excessive pain that will come with it, it's all in the name of mind-numbing pleasure.

ANA: Well, if I do get sexual pleasure out of it, I guess I could think about it.

CHRISTIAN: You getting pleasure? What in- oh! Yeah…! Right…

ANA: Also, why don't we sleep like a normal couple? Why do we have to sleep in separate rooms?

AUDIENCE: Haven't you been listening to what he said at all? Aside from "You. Me. Bandicooting"?

CHRISTIAN: Because like I've already demonstrated to true BDSM practicioners' frustrations, people into this kind of stuff are cold-hearted dicks not giving squat about their partner's feelings, so naturally, they must be portrayed as such and hate warm, tender intimacy.

AUDIENCE INTO BDSM: Screw this film. Screw it with a ten-foot pole coated in sulfuric acid.

AUDIENCE: … *slow clap*

ANA: You know what? Screw this. Screw you. I'm leaving. I'm my own woman, dammit. I don't want a creep like you to be controlling me, thank you very much. I'm going home. Don't touch me.

Ana leaves determined. Everyone in the theatre quietly gawk in awe at the scene unfolded.

AUDIENCE: Holy crap, what's happening?! She's turning awesome!... did she get drunk again?

…only to have this moment of awesome be crushed into tiny bits when she's letting Christian drive her home.

ANA: Yeah, I know, but drive me home, then I'll be my own woman.

AUDIENCE: It's going to go on like this, ain't it?

Then he doesn't drive her straight home, but to a secluded area in a forest where no one can hear them for miles, and will provoke the makers of films like the Pumpkinhead into filing complaints of plagiarism. Because this kind of plot could very well set off when you have a character like Christian Grey. Anyhow, Ana is being stupid as she agrees to walk with him in the woods, furthering setting in stone that her subconscious will make her do as he says no matter what… as she dances in that bright red hula skirt and stomps her foot and makes a triple-axel jump or whatever.

ANA: So what made you realize that hurting women is sexually gratifying to you?

CHRISTIAN: I was sexually abused by a family friend when I was 15.

ANA: That's terrible!

CHRISTIAN: No, it was awesome. 'Doesn't matter, had sex', y'know? You're the pity pig here, as you were still a loser virgin prior to me fixing your shameful treatment of your body by not sticking stuff up your every orifice. Freak.

They walk near a bridge out to the open waters.

CHRISTIAN: Nobody knows. Not my mommy, not my brother, not anyone. And this is not a problem I should have called the police for since she f*cked me up, cuz…doesn't matter, had sex. It was intimidating for me at first, too, but I eventually came to consent to her sexual abuse of a minor. Hear that, pedophiles? Sexually abuse a child enough, and they will eventually like it!

AUDIENCE: In the name of everything sacred, E.L. James, do you plan to brainwash the whole planet into bowing down to you, too? 'Cause I can already see the pedos starting to kneel down.

ANA: So, what? You're saying just because you liked it eventually, I'm going to, too?

CHRISTIAN: Exactly. There's no such thing as asexuality, discomfort/fear of sex, lack of a sex drive, a job, work, vacation, your family, spirituality, love, whatever. I don't know how those damn things are even concepts, mind you. I didn't have to give a shit about anything anymore. I didn't need to take responsibility for anything, I can just be whatever douchebag I feel like, 'cause I can disguise it as being a 'dominate'. When I felt that climax of my first time, I felt free and wonderful. It's my world. It's everything. It's my life. And if you let me, it can be yours, too.

ANA: *sceptic*

CHRISTIAN: You're the only girl I want this with. You're the only one I rode with in that helicopter, and had sex with in my own bed. You're specially speshuul, gurl.

ANA: *beams*

CHRISTIAN: *Phew-I-hope-I-didn't-forget-to-throw-out-Caitlyn's-panties-out-of-the-backseat-of-that-helicopter-grimace*

AUDIENCE: Oh. He pulls the "you're-the-only-one"-manipulation card. Nice touch.

CHRISTIAN: I've never slept next to anyone. Ever.

AUDIENCE: Except for your cousin Burt in 4th grade on a camping trip. Better watch out for her finding out you're lying, mac!

FAN AUDIENCE: Okay, will anyone shut this jackass up?

They share a soaring kiss, exchanging trust that shouldn't be there, lies, uncertainty, manipulative words… not saliva. Doggone it, not saliva. It would almost have been enough to compensate for the boredom of this scene. Then again, because it's FSoG, I would have complained, either way.

He then drives her home, but she seems to have a different attitude, but that's normal. That's what every person under Christian's manipulation would be. Not accepting, just… deluded. Insanely deluded.

CHRISTIAN: Contract. Read. Choice. Sex. *would have crossed out the next to last point initially but realized it would have scared her away from being his plaything so he didn't*

ANA: *nods* *grabs contract* *walks inside*

CHRISTIAN: *cartoony villain hand fidgeting* All according to plan.

ANA walks in having been given a new computer by Christian whom she talked to mere seconds ago. Oh, an he also gave her first-editions of some books she likes earlier in the film, but whatever. Didn't find that a crucial detail other than adding to the "I-shower-you-with-gifts-so-you-must-do-as-I-say" manipulation scale.

AUDIENCE: What's the difference between Christian Grey and Ted Bundy? Bundy at least tried to be charming when luring his victims.

FAN AUDIENCE: … *snorts a laugh*

AUDIENCE: What was that?

FAN AUDIENCE: I'm… just… I'm having a cold.

AUDIENCE: Uh-huh.

Kate is there being useless for a while and then Ana begins using the laptop. Apparently, it doesn't need to have information of the owner when signing up, nor a battery it seems, as it's immediately on. Now they're having e-mail contact, but I'm just going to speed-forward this segment taking its course over a few days (which requires talent to pad out, if you ask me) because it's useless filler about kinkmania fake trivia.

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar (ANA) has logged in.

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop (CHRISTIAN)has logged in.

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop: Use this computer for research on BDSM. Since your own computer is obviously incapable of that.

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: ok!11 ^^ but waiiii… are u gunna keep orderinh me around liek dis? cuz if u r den fuk of :)

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop: You first want to be dominated and now you don't? This is the reason I don't value bitches above a hole. Anyway, to answer your question for the millionth time this hour, yes, I want to dominate you, and you will love it. I've already covered this issue with sarcasm so let's just move on.

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: yea well…your the boss. what shud I search derpityderpderp? :)

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop: Well, wth do you think?

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: PUPPIES! :)

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop: Yeah… had we been searching on the deep web for crush porn. Just search 'submissive', Gena Leung.

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: okidokiee!

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop: Well?

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: HOLY CRAPPY CRAP UP MY CRAPPER U WANT 2 DO DIS SHIET 2 ME LIEK WTF WTH IS WRONG WITH U U WAN 2 TY ME UP WITH LIL LETHERSTRAPPIES

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop: Of course I don't, mooncalf. I don't want to use any damn leather. Fish leather can't hold for poop. I need real stuff like rope to tie you down.

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: I DUNNO. I DUNNO ANYMORE

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop: Hey, relax, guy!

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: I AM PERFETCLY CALM. I JUST FORGET TO SHUT OF DUH CAPSLock is all. There. No butt serius thats som messed shit ur in 2 and I dun wanna be parg ovit. I just lost my virgin & I think I need 2 get used 2 mission before trying dog cat monkey coleacanth style or whatev its bn nice nwing you tho, hop u can find someone consentign. Kisses 33333 XOXOXOXOX CU

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop: …

HardcorePattycakeWithPoppedCherryOnTop has logged off.

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: wut

TwinkleTwinkleWittleStar: helo

Ana just got home from running when a looming, frightening, terrifying silhouette of a serial killer emerges from the darkest deepest corners of the shadows' domain, and- oh, wait. It's Christian.

AUDIENCE: What's with that surprised pause?

Expectly, this scares Ana's tits off, except not, otherwise Christian would have lost interest in her the instant she had had.

ANA: Holy crap on a crapper!

CHRISTIAN: YOU SHOULD HAVE RESPECTED MY AUTHORITAH. *proceeds to rape her*

I wish it was a typo. I wish upon Geppetto's star it was a typo. But it isn't.

AUDIENCE: Like, shit! We knew he was a creeper as we accused him of being a rapist, but we didn't think he would actually be one! …Our intuition was actually correct?

FAN AUDIENCE: Thanks a lot for jinxing it! Okay, you were right, we're admitting it. Happy now? Feeling better with your inflated ego further stroked?

AUDIENCE: Depends… do you know the Ashiatsu Massage Technique?

Some wacky looney adventures ensue involving ice-cubes, spanking, and raping of Ana in thin guise as kink. Hey, everytime he roughly thrusts into her as she gasps in pain, let's take one shot! That way we can survive this.

AUDIENCE: Two. Two shots.

And let's put in "Haunted" by Beyoncé as some mood music for the hot steamy scene of… taking these shots. What other steamy scene would there possibly be? No, seriously. Enlighten me.

AUDIENCE: Wait… this is way too fitting. Did you plan this, Sammy?

SAM TAYLOR-JOHNSON: Rape fantasy, bitch… HHHHHGGGGGNNNNN *climaxes*

AUDIENCE: …I'll take that as an "obviously I did, you idiot".

We cut to them laying in bed at night having some pillowtalk.

ANA: That was amazing.

ANA'S BRAIN: You know, you could say it wasn't rape anymore when you consented, but it was still rape because you initially didn't.

ANA'S VAGINA: Okay, this? Has got to, like, stop.

ANA'S BRAIN: I have to stop? Cutiepie. Hadn't it been for me, we would have been dead right now. I'm the only common sense she has provided to stay catty to his bossiness. Considering I'm in the minority, that says a lot about her intelligence.

ANA'S VAGINA: Well, then, why don't you stay in the minority and let us handle this, scrote?

ANA'S BRAIN: BRAIN LIVES MATTER

Ana wants to touch Christian, but…

CHRISTIAN'S BODY: Eyy, f*ck off, bitch, you be treadin' on private territory.

AUDIENCE: Ain't that hypocrisy more delicious than grandma's blueberry pie.

CHRISTIAN: So, anyway, are you gonna sign that contract? Not that it matters anyway, I would just rape you until you finally agreed to it. Boy, aren't negotiations always the best and most fair solutions? I win something out of it both ways, too.

ANA: Yeah, no. I dunno yet. You just raped me but I might still want in.

ANA'S BRAIN: *slowly getting dissipated from the power of dumbassness* NOOOOOOOO!

Christian walks up with a disappointed look and proceeds to put his clothes on.

ANA: Wait, you're more butthurt than I am?

CHRISTIAN: No, not really. I just have to go home and make a new list of ways to rape you in manners that would help persuade you. I was thinking of something with the word "cleveland steamer" in it next.

Ana reads the contract for a few days and decides that in order to avoid another rape, she could at least pretend interest by ordering som insanely dumb formal meeting between the two of them about the contract, which she isn't going to sign anyway, and only exist to pad out this movie more, because more the merrier, it makes green in pocket. Let's water it with dirty talk and sexual lube fluids.

ANA: Conditions: strike this out, strike that out, strike blah out…

CHRISTIAN: *sob* Okay. *grabs ice-cream* I don't know why I'm not giving up on you and just hire a prostitute. That's what Donald Trump is doing.

AUDIENCE: Because you're not just rich, both of your literal heads are also thick. I guess your income doesn't match your IQ.

ANA: What are butt plugs?

CHRISTIAN: *begins a "shit-are-you-serious" look but gets interrupted by his sla- err…aw, heck, why hide it, his slaves*

His goons come in to leave food and...yeah, that's it. Then they leave.

ANA: Okay, what was the point of adding that to the film?

CHRISTIAN: To further rub it in your face how rich I am and how luxurious I live and will make you agree to this contract and I'm not giving you all the details of what all the tools will be used for because miscommunication is also standard for BDSM.

AUDIENCE INTO BDSM: *claps in strained joy, pukes blood*

CHRISTIAN: You know, I'm pretty impressed with your devotion to this contract, I didn't expect that since no other subject was.

AUDIENCE: Because they were smart?

CHRISTIAN: Tell you what, once a week, we'll go on a date. As a couple. But all the other days of the week you'll bend to my will and I will f*ck you in every way I choose, and if you refuse, I'll abu- err, punish you.

AUDIENCE: You're still trying to hide it?

ANA: OMG, you care about me?! That's so romantic!

CHRISTIAN: Sure, whatever. We can watch a movie… have you ever seen Backdoor Sluts 9? Fritz the Cat? No wait, I know… Pinocchio! That donkey transformation scene is my favorite porno.

ANA: I believe I haven't. Enlighten me, then?

CHRISTIAN: App, app, app, only on that one day of the week, skank.

They finish up this "business meeting" and they talk the dirty that would water dollar greens and money trees.

CHRISTIAN: (actual line) I would like to f*ck you into the middle of next week.

ANA: *smiles, flattered*

AUDIENCE: Would screaming in agony at her messed up reaction to that statement be overreacting?

FAN AUDIENCE: We don't know anymore.

ANA: Anywayz, I want to leave to review these changes and then I'll decide. Could you hold in your kinky sex-pee just a widdle while longer?

CHRISTIAN: *growling impatiently* Would f*cking you on this table help you decide faster? Because, as you remember, I can just rape you until you consent.

ANA: Mew?

CHRISTIAN: You want me to make love to you. I can see it; you're pressing your thighs together, your breathing's turning uneven, your complexion… you're flushed.

ANA: Did you just describe trying to hold in a fart?

CHRISTIAN: If you did stay, I would *dirtytalkdirtytalkdirtytalkdirtytalkdirtytalkdirtytalk*

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: Well? Are you getting excited? Cuz I sure am, ohohohoh! You naughty boy, Christian, you!

FAN AUDIENCE: I can't get it up/wet to save my life.

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: Need help? Lower-lip-bite?

FAN AUDIENCE: No don't you get it? YOU SUCK! Watching my grandmother naked would make me climax faster!

AUDIENCE: OH, SNAP!

E.L. JAMES: You just don't get it.

FAN AUDIENCE: Says someone whose toxic vagina hasn't gotten action in probably 20 years and needed to write something as dry and simple as this to get horny.

AUDIENCE: OOOOHHH OHHHHHHH 360 NO SCOPING LIKE F*CK

Ahem, anyway, back to the story. Ana decides to leave, for some reason not given, I guess, immediately. Anyway, Ana's being a little of a tease, which I don't think will help him hold further back from taking her over and over against her will like a daffodil being forced to open its petals before spring has properly matured. I'm sorry, I'm trying to sound funny. I know it's not working.

ANA: This will have to wait, I'm gonna go graduate.

CHRISTIAN: Again? Because you failed the first one?

ANA: No, this is the first one.

CHRISTIAN: Oh, that wasn't over yet? …f*ck a duck.

They graduate and Christian has a speech at the graduation in order to be an attention whore. Ana meets her dad afterwards.

ANA'S DAD: I'm so proud of you. My little girl graduated with honors and will begin a successful career. I'm so moved.

AUDIENCE: Okay, now this is just sad.

CHRISTIAN: Woah, she's talking to her dad she hasn't seen for a long while? Time to butt in and be a possessive creep!

ANA'S DAD: Oh, hello. So you're Ana's boyfriend? Pleasure to meet you. I enjoyed your speech greatly. How long have you two known each other?

CHRISTIAN: Excuse me, sir, I couldn't hear you over the prospective scream of pain I'll envoke from her when we have damaging sex tonight. Also, over the cameraman wanting a shot. Pardon.

Christian pulls Ana close for the shot despite her discomfort.

AUDIENCE: Any sane father would cut his testicles off at this point. So he's either insane or a step-father how would personally do the same.

They later have champagne.

CHRISTIAN: To celebrate the fact that nothing stops you from signing that damn contract already. Oh, and your graduation.

ANA: *looks down*

CHRISTIAN: Bitch, did you just roll your eyes at me? Oh my God, you insolent little snitch. I'm going to spank yer arse if ye do that again, lassie.

AUDIENCE: Why don't you just admit there's no need for a contract already?

CHRISTIAN: By the way, I've got you a gift.

AUDIENCE: Is it her freedom?

CHRISTIAN: Not even close, it's a brand new car.

ANA: Holy shnapcaronis, a new car? A new car. A new car! I can't take it, it's too much. I have my own.

CHRISTIAN: No, you see, you have to take it, because I sold the one you already had.

ANA: F*ck, are you serious now?! What the hell is wrong with you?! It was my damn car!

AUDIENCE: Is it finally dawning on her now?

CHRISTIAN: Wait, bitch, did you just roll my eyes at me again? Did you just have the insolence of being rightfully angry at me for selling something that wasn't mine but I think I can sell anyway because I think money gives me authority? That's enough. You're getting a spanking, you naughty girl.

AUDIENCE: FOR DOING WHAT?!

Christian proceeds to spank her with the agressivity of a newborn puppy.

AUDIENCE: Oh. Well, that alleviates things somewhat.

FAN AUDIENCE: How dare she not accept a gift when he sold her stuff without telling her first. How dare she. Why doesn't he the next time just kill her mom and then put her on the Judas Cradle for daring to cry over her death?

AUDIENCE: …wait, are you agreeing with us?

FAN AUDIENCE: …no?

Christian leaves after getting his nightly get-off and Ana gets a call from her mother.

ANA'S MOM: Hi, honey. My mother senses are tingling that something is completely and utterly wrong with you at this time. Wanna talk?

AUDIENCE: What, have your mother instincts been on vacation during this whole movie?

ANA: *silently cries* Mama…

ANA'S MOM: What's wrong? Honey, what is bothering you?

ANA: *sob* I dunno if he's making me happy. He's so weird, I'm… so confused.

ANA'S MOM: You know, come down whenever you want to talk. I'm here. Well, I always have been. I don't know what took you so long to realize you need sense beaten into you.

ANA: That's… I might do that.

Then she goes and makes out with the same prick they just talked about.

AUDIENCE: No comment.

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: Time for more baking baby-batter, baby!

FAN AUDIENCE: *Feelings of emptiness*

E.L. JAMES: Ohhhh yeahhh…

FAN AUDIENCE: *Feelings of the suicidal kind and emptiness*

After the movie's hourly sex, they head to have dinner with his family. You know? The one they promised earlier in the film…? Yeah, I didn't remember either, I had to look back at what I had written.

Believe it or not, they actually have a decent talk. His family is nice, like his mother, and brother… too bad the reason she's there is a posessive rap- you know what? We should invent a new word for this guy. How does Christianity sound?

AUDIENCE: That one's taken, dumbass. Just go with Christian.

FAN AUDIENCE: Isn't that one taken too?

AUDIENCE: Oh, come on!

ANA: Yeah, my mother lives in Georgia. I'm going to visit her tomorrow.

CHRISTIAN: You're trying to be your own woman? How dare you! When were you gonna tell me this?

ANA: Woah, chill the hell out. I'm just going to visit her. It's not like I'm out of our bargain and planning to move as far away from you as possible, even though that's what my brain has been nagging me about doing.

CHRISTIAN: You're implying there's a difference between those notions.

They leave to walk in the garden, with Christian carrying her on his shoulder and spanking her on the way.

ANA: Why are you angry? This is my choice! You have no right to control everything I do!

CHRISTIAN: Stop spewing bullshit or you're in for a spanking.

ANA: You're already spanking me!

CHRISTIAN: In for a beating, then. You're mine, all mine, when are you going to realize that? You're only mine.

AUDIENCE: What, are you worried she's going to have incest-sex with her mom, or something?

They kiss "passionately" for a few moments until Ana breaks away.

ANA: Christian, you are so confusing.

FAN AUDIENCE: I swear, they were going to say "controlling" but changed it at the last second.

ANA: Why can't we sleep in the same bed? Why can't you let me touch you? Why do you care so much about that damn contract? Why can't you like me the way I am? Why must you hurt me to get off? Why must you be such a cold-hearted prick?

AUDIENCE: Did she ask all the questions?

FAN AUDIENCE: *looks at list* Check, check, check… nope. She still hasn't asked herself why she's with him. She also hasn't asked herself why she felt attracted to him in the first place, but her realizing that is overestimating her intelligence.

He, unsurprisingly, doesn't answer a single question. Except he does, when she's asleep later on, but unbeknownst for him, it doesn't really count. Not in my book, anyway. And not in every other person's book on this planet. Except maybe Stephenie Meyer's.

Ana is giving a feminist boost and goes to meet her mother in Georgia despite his protests, because she hasn't descended deep enough into the madness that she'll stop loving her family… kind of what Christian has. I hope we can still help her.

FEMINISM: I'm the most all-mighty power in the universe and you all should bow down to me! I'm Wonderwoman, I'm Starfire, I'm-!

ANA'S CLIT: Oh, shut the hell up.

Ana has dinner/lunch with her Step-father and mother.

STEP-DAD: You wanna know this recipe? It's easy. Just take som movie-padding and pour it with salsa.

ANA: Thanks! I'll make sure to keep that in mind for the next two films! Sammy must start getting creative on that part if they are to be released.

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: Can it! I'm doing my best.

AUDIENCE: To be honest, I'm not really blaming Sammy here.

Ana later lays in bed.

ANA: I got here to get away from Christian, so now I'm gonna text him saying I wished he were here with me.

The next day, he arrives to meet her.

CHRISTIAN: Meddle?

ANA: Holy crap, what the crap are you doing here?!

AUDIENCE: Sanity is underrated, am I right?

CHRISTIAN: You sent me a text saying you wished I was here, so now I'm here. Duh. Do you want two other wishes granted?

ANA: Well, yeah. If you could leave me alone for five damn seconds, I would be happy.

CHRISTIAN: Forgot to tell you. I'm the kinky-genie, so I will only grant wishes involving me doing anal on you. Just clarifying your options.

ANA'S MOM: I love this guy!

FAN AUDIENCE: You mean comedy-wise, or…?

ANA'S MOM LEAVES, HAVING TO REFUEL THE TANK OF HER MOTHER INSTINCT RADAR. Christian sits down and rips her glass from her hand.

CHRISTIAN: Stop drinking that, child, and flirt with me. Flirt with daddy.

ANA: Flirt flirt.

CHRISTIAN: Let's randomly go plane-flying. I can do that too, y'know.

ANA: Okay. Bye mom!... she didn't hear me. Oh well! Let's leave without noting her!

PLANE-FLYING MONTAGE: *being stupid… wait, didn't we already do a scene like this?*

CHRISTIAN: *looks like an idiot*

ANA: *looks like she's fighting against swallowing a fish*

After the ride we're back in Seattle to continue this conflict-which-could-be-solved-with-a-dialogue-of-good-communication-or-a-police-call-or-having-the-luck-of-not-being-Fifty-Shades-Of-Grey-drama.

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: I think people with somehow chaste needs will be satisfied over this. Not that somebody not having them would know. Back to THE SMEX!

FAN AUDIENCE: The "plot" will be back after these supposed steamy messages.

AUDIENCE: Should we remove the "fan"-part of your name?

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: YES. THANK YOU.

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: NOT REALLY REMOVING IT, BUT WHATEV.

After the useless sex, we cut to Edw- err, Christian playing the piano with melancholy, Ana coming down listening to it.

ANA: The script of this film has really made me impatient. Can you tell me what the hell is wrong with you already?

CHRISTIAN: Shut the f*ck up.

ANA: Why do you wanna hurt me?

CHRISTIAN: Shut the f*ck up.

ANA: Why do you get off to it?

CHRISTIAN: BECAUSE THAT'S THE WAY I AM! SHUT THE F*CK UP!

AUDIENCE: Translation: Because I'm a sick f*ck still somehow roaming free and in desperate need of acceptance into the mental ward sharing the cell with Dexter.

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: And having the riches to back up every megalomaniac plan one can think of.

AUDIENCE: "And I own the police."

BIFF TANNEN: I'm proud of you, son.

DONALD TRUMP: Hey, that's my line, asshole!

ADOLF HITLER: Keep talking, bitches.

CHRISTIAN: (actual line) I'm fifty shades of f*cked up.

ANA: (drops IQ below -10) Because the stupidity of that line has dumbed me further than thought possible, why don't you show me just exactly how f*cked up you are?

CHRISTIAN: Okay. I'm gonna whip you six times.

EDWARD GREY: This pantywaist ain't got shit on me.

So Christian does, having her stripped naked to be whipped.

CHRISTIAN: *whips* HAHAHAHAH, WHO'S PUSSYWHIPPED NOW?! *whips* HAHA TAKE THIS LOL! *whips* TAKE THIS! IT'S NO USE! *whips* CHRISTIAN USED TAIL WHIP, IT'S SUPER EFFECTIVE *whips* PERSONALLY, I PREFER YOUR ASS IN THE AIR! *whips*

ANA: *silently weeps in pain*

ANA steps away from Christian, covering her naked self in self-defense and a look of disgust in his direction. About time.

ANA: How dare you whip me! Even if I asked you to! Don't ever go near me again!

AUDIENCE: Oh, jeez. That shit again.

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: Bet it's not gonna hold.

She's later STILL in his house, sleeping, or rather weeping, in her room. He walks inside.

ANA: I love you, asshole. Leave now before I kill you, my love.

AUDIENCE: Wait, what?!

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: This film tries to subvert our expectations so hard it doesn't now which path to choose anymore! We have caused a rift in the space-time continuum! We have caused a paradox! The apocalypse! What are we to do?!

AUDIENCE: Take cover beneath the bunker which is our brain's nerve system.

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: Good idea!

ANA LEAVES CHRISTIAN AND THEY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER SEPARATED.

THE END.

AUDIENCE: I wish it was.

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: Holy crap! She was her own independent woman in the end! I've garnered the tiniest bit of respect for her now it's enough to create a molecule. Awesome twist E.L.!

E.L. JAMES: …

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: ERRR… THAT'S…

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: Wait, wait, wait, don't say anything! She's gonna come back and do some awesome Kill Bill shit, am I right?

AUDIENCE: Isn't ignorance just bliss?

FORMER-FAN AUDIENCE: Wait, what are you talking about? Why are you all so silent? *looks at movie poster for Fifty Shades Darker* MOTHERF*CK- *head explosion*

E.L. JAMES: *takes notes* Cause of spontaneous combustion; a movie overly sexually stimulating.

SAM-TAYLOR JOHNSON: We can do better than this, can't we E.L.?

E.L. JAMES: You bet yer arse!

AUDIENCE: NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE *jumps off fanfiction cliff*

[irissometimesreads]

RED WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE by Casey Mcquinston

started: january 18th

finished: february 15th (had a slump,,, yk how it goes)

word count for the review: 780

WARNINGS: Spoilers for the ending ⚠️ brief mentions of mature themes, swearing

SUMMARY: Set in a world in which a female Democrat from Texas wins the presidency in 2016, Red, White & Royal Blue chronicles the illicit romance between the president's son, Georgetown senior Alex Claremont-Diaz (Dad is a Mexican-American senator), and Prince Henry of Wales, his childhood nemesis.

REVIEW:

Okay so like most of you, I’ve found out about this book on Tik Tok (A.K.A BookTok) and I wasn’t impressed enough to actually buy it until I found out it mentions Kim Namjoon (RM) the leader of BTS, and like a true ARMY , I insisted on buying it : ) Now , I actually had very high standards for this one, given the fact it’s praised by BookTok and I was left disappointed , kind of. I give it a solid 3 out of 5. I do not regret reading it , I got a bomb ass playlist out of it, but it’s nothing special. I skipped on most of the smut scenes (so basically the whole book) because that didn’t particularly spark my interest. I’m no stranger to contemporary literature and I have to say, this is very gen Z like, speaking like a true Gen Z , it was honestly surprising to see Alex ,our main character use all lowercase letters when typing or using twitter and his type of humour be pop culture references. Personally I like to be touched by a story, you know how when something fluffy or angsty happen in a story and your stomach makes that lil feeling you crave more and more? I sincerely hope you know what i’m talking about because I want to be touched like that by a book (i know ur thoughts u pervs) and I did not feel a thing through reading this book. I’ve read better fanfiction than this. (although to be fair I read more fanfiction than books) This whole ordeal of the presidency seems unrealistic aswell but who am I to say that, I am not a professional nor an American. My favourite characters were definitely Bea and Pez. The others lacked flavour imo. Also idk what type of shit is this but nobody is that close with their sibling like June and Alex are 😭. The love story and timeline between Harry and Alex is kind of weak , for me , it happened waaaay too quickly and I did not actually feel like they’re in love (lust maybe?) i’ve never been in a relationship so my points may be weak , but if they broke up I wouldn’t be sad about it, it was just too rushed. The plot itself is weak and it’s literally PWP. The lack of diversity is also relatively bothersome, I know them being mixed and the royal family to be white is the only way they could be written as politicians but the side character could’ve been POC. At least there is LGBT rep but it’s still minimalistic. I mean comparing it to other books i’ve read , It’s on the more representative side so I’ll focus on that. The thing I loved most about this is their message chains and emails, it kept me going actually. The relationships of this literary piece’s between adults and the “kids” is relatively strange to me, i’m not close with adults, nor are my cousins or people I know who are the same age as the main characters. When it comes to relatability, I find myself relating to most of the main characters, but in different aspects. I see a little of myself in each of them and I think that’s amazing. The title and the summary sparked my interest when I actually bothered to learn about it. The humour is also my type so I’ve fairly enjoyed it. The quotes aren’t too memorable but I remember some: “stop trying to Jane Austen my life.” “listen it’s not my fault he’s a mysterious and retiring young royal and you’re the tempestuous ingenue that caught his eye, okay” “He died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock” “And here I thought I was the Ferris Bueller of this relationship” “History,huh? Bet we could make some”. I especially love that last one. At the end,when the world learns about their secret romance, the feedback is so positive and I really like that, I remember being scared when will they be discovered and what will that mean for them but I’m sure our generation would react the same (at least the majority of us) if it were to happen in real life. I think I brought all my points, pros and cons, to the table? I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys contemporary literature and is a Gen Z. This is definitely not my favourite but I did enjoy it : ). That’s it! Hopefully you liked my review and feel free to state your thoughts and/or disagree , i’d love to hear your opinions.

I apologise for my English, It’s not my first langauge and although I excel at it, grammar is my weaker spot : /

[seriouslyhooked]

Souvenirs (A CS AU) Part 8/14

A Modern CS AU where Emma has grown up in Maine her whole life and runs a store with Ruby and MM. Killian Jones is the new guy in town, who just bought the local bar. Only Emma and Killian have met before and now she can’t help but wonder if their past has influenced his plans for the future. Includes tons of fluff and a happily ever after. Rated M.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

A/N: In a completely expected non-twist, this week’s chapter of ‘Souvenirs’ is staying light and fluffy and a little smutty. This installment is all about the future for Emma and her jewelry line. Expect cute gestures from Killian and some nice best friend moments with Ruby and Mary Margaret.

Right now, Emma hated the phone. No, she loathed it, for here she was in the middle of a beautiful sleep, wrapped up in Killian’s warm embrace and the phone would not stop ringing. She was still fighting off the lingering drowsiness of deep sleep as she popped an eye open to read the time on the alarm clock by her bed. 5:30 AM. Dear lord, why?

“You should probably answer that love.” Emma groaned, sorry that she hadn’t been fast enough to keep Killian from waking. Then she rolled over and picked up the offending tech and answered a bit more gruffly than usual.

“Hello?” she mumbled sleepily into the phone.

“Hi yes, I’m looking for Emma Swan.” Emma covered her mouth to muffle a yawn.

“This is she.”

“Miss Swan, this is Lillian Gates. I run costuming for the show Socialites on ABS, and I wanted to talk to you about an exclusive jewelry deal for the show. I saw your features in Closet Covet, and Teen Style, and after researching your website, and talking to Hannah Martin at the Maine School of Design, I think your line would be perfect for our star, Diana Lane.” Emma couldn’t understand what was being said, so she parroted back to the woman – Lillian Gates, she’d said her name was.

“I’m sorry. You want to exclusively feature my designs on the nation’s leading primetime drama?” Emma put the phone on speaker at Killian’s silent insistence and the two of them listened intently to Lillian’s reply.

“That’s right. My team and I were hoping to meet with you if you’re interested here in New York City. I know it’s last minute, but would you have any availability sometime this week?” Emma was shocked but replied that of course she could, and as she planned a time, Killian pulled out his tablet to help her book a flight so she could definitely make it. There was an availability for same day travel on Wednesday so they set the date.

“Great, I’m so excited to meet with you. And I really do apologize for the early call, but I just received a call from the Vice President at ABS herself, and she was convinced that if we didn’t pick you up immediately, someone else would.”

Well, Emma couldn’t exactly argue with that, after all, she’d have woken up any time of day to get news like this. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, one she absolutely didn’t want to let it get by her. As she hung up with Lillian and looked over to Killian, Emma was at a loss for words.

“Did that just happen?” Killian wrapped his arms around her once more and held her close, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“It did, and I’m so proud of you, Emma.”

She knew she was beaming, and it was two fold. On the one hand she was here with him, and two, she was really proud of herself as well. She’d never dreamed of a chance like this coming around, but now that it was here… oh shit how exactly was she going to do this?

“I have to talk to Mary Margaret and Ruby. It’s going to take so much restructuring, and it doesn’t feel right to make the decision without them.” Killian nodded.

“Of course love, they’re your partners.”

Emma sighed with relief. Some people thought it strange that Emma would consider her friends a part of her line, since they didn’t really have much to do with the designs or the assembly themselves, but each woman played a critical role both in Emma’s process and in the actualization of the pieces. Besides, the line was sold through the Three Fates site and name. They had power over that just as much as she did.

“It’s still kind of early though.” Emma whispered, trying to rationalize her next moves and Killian’s response was the movement of his hand from where the sheet was covering her body to expose her breasts, and her stomach and beyond. His hands then moved to her waiting heat, which Emma couldn’t help but crave. The excitement she was feeling at the new job possibilities was now channeled into her ever present need for him as she parted her legs wider for him.

“Aye, love. I think we have a few hours yet before it would be appropriate to tell them.” Emma swallowed harshly at the idea that they’d spend hours in this fashion, seeing as she was nearly whimpering just from the feel of his finger against her clit moving in slow circles. Hours meant slow and sweet and oh so filled with anticipation.

“Any thoughts on what we could do to fill the time?”

Killian growled low before bringing himself over her and kissing her fiercely. Emma arched upwards wanting to forego the slow perusal, at least at first. As if he could read her mind, Killian trailed a series of nips and sucks down her body before bringing her sex to his mouth. Once there, his exploration was fast and hard and perfectly enacted.

The past few months had become a study in Emma from Killian’s perspective, and right now, when she was needing release, Emma was so beyond thankful. Every lick, every suck at her clit, coupled with the eventual joining of his fingers within her had Emma’s body shaking and her mind unable to think of anything but him and this and how right it was.

“Fuck, Killian, I’m so close.”

He hummed against her and that was all it took for her to careen of the precipice into a glorious orgasm. Only while she was coming down, Killian didn’t back off, he stayed right there, working her further until the lingering sensitivity sparked into an even more fueled desire. She could pretend that she didn’t want this, feign that it was too much, but the truth was that with Killian, it would never be enough. Emma highly doubted she could ever have her fill of him and in the past that would have scared her. Now though, in the face of all this change and momentum in her life, she was only thrilled and grateful that he was here. So when he made her come again, had her moans pitching higher and higher to another spectacular release, she pulled him up so she could give him a taste of everything he made her feel.

“You’re trying to have all the fun,” Emma teased as she pushed Killian onto his back and straddled over him to which Killian grinned in reply.

“I believe you were having a fair bit of fun, love.” The innuendo was thick in the air between them, and Emma felt herself flush. When she did, Killian reached his hand to twine in the strands of her golden hair and his eyes took on a more serious, awe filled look.

“You truly are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld, Swan.”

Emma bit her bottom lip and watched him track the motion before leaning down to kiss him fiercely. It was a duel of tongues and heat and wanting, but Emma pulled back, trying to gain some of the control as she did. As he had done, she trailed down his beautiful body with her mouth, until she was inches away from his cock. She looked up at Killian and he was already brimming with anticipation, so when she took him in, and he was outwardly groaning in pleasure, Emma wasn’t surprised. See, as much as the past few months had been a study of her, it had also been a study of him and what they were like together.

“Fuck, love, you’re so good at that.” She knew he certainly thought so, and she continued to suck and lick and work him with her hand until he was close, before finally pulling back and moving back up above him, looking into his deep, lust-filled, blue eyes.

“I love you, Killian.” He positively beamed at that.

“I love you too, Emma.”

With that, Emma put them both out of their misery and lowered herself onto his hardness and rode him at the exact pace and rhythm that she knew would drive them crazy the fastest. When he could feel her starting to crest and tighten around him at more inconstant intervals, he brushed his fingers against her clit and that was all it took for Emma to succumb to the sensations and come again with him following just behind her.

“We’re really good at this.” Emma joked as she lay spent beside Killian with his arms now enveloping her once more as they had been while they slept. Killian chuckled low, and the rumble from his chest caused a tingle of pleasure to move through Emma.

“That we are, Swan.” Emma yawned, but tried to muffle it with her hand as she leaned back against Killian.

“I say twenty minute nap and then a shower.” She felt him smile against her shoulder before he placed a kiss there.

“I like the way you think, love. Always have, always will.” So, twenty minutes later, they did exactly that, and Emma savored every second of it.

……………………………………..

A few days had passed, and Emma was currently on her way back from the airport after her meeting with Lillian Gates. She still couldn’t believe it – this kind of deal, this kind of exposure, was going to drastically change the way she did business and the way that she thought about her line. The star of the show was featured every week in every style magazine across the country and parts of the world. Most of those features included full outfit breakdowns, and with Emma’s designs as an exclusive provider, the publicity would be astronomical.

Ruby and Mary Margaret had been all for it too. In fact, Emma couldn’t have imagined them reacting better to anything. Within seconds of her telling them, she’d been wrapped in a group hug so tight she nearly stopped breathing. They were the epitome of supportive, but still, Emma needed to figure out a way to make it up to them, and to include them in this expansion of their brand. She was pretty sure she had the ideas down.

Mary Margaret would make a great VP of Brand Integrity. She had a knack for knowing what worked and what didn’t work with their current advertising and what pieces that Emma was tinkering with would go well with her existing lines. Ruby on the other hand, was all about making things bigger and better and bolder. For that reason, Emma thought VP of Brand Enhancement had a nice ring to it. This way her friends were both still figureheads within the line, without having to give up their other passions that the Three Fates store supplied. She just hoped that they’d be interested in the idea.

Suddenly Emma’s phone rang, pulling her from the daydream of how she would pitch this to her friends. It was Mary Margaret.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Emma. Can you meet me at the lighthouse? Ruby and I have something we want to talk to you about.” Emma was still nervous despite the pleasantness in her friend’s tone.

“Um, sure. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s great, really. Just trust me.” Emma told her she would be there shortly and ten minutes later she was getting out of her yellow bug and approaching the lighthouse that to her held so much significance. Mary Margaret and Ruby waved as she approached, and Emma’s worry evaporated. They both looked about to burst with excitement.

“What’s going on guys?” Mary Margaret shook her head as Ruby spoke.

“Trust us, Ems. It’s better that we show you.”

With that the walked into the lighthouse and Emma froze just inside the doorway. The interior was completely different, with all of the wood and moldings restored and new furnishings inside. Along the walls were the Three Fates logo and assorted photos and knickknacks from her studio at the store. It was perfect

“You guys did this?” Emma’s voice cracked with emotion as she ran a hand over the beautiful crafting area that was beautifully laid out through the room.

“We helped, yeah.” Emma looked to Mary Margaret and Ruby for clarification and then it dawned on her. They’d helped Killian. He’d managed to give her another incredible gift, and now the tears were there.

“Do you like it?” Mary Margaret asked.

“I love it.” Emma whispered as Ruby gave her another hug then pulled back and took her hand.

“You haven’t even seen the whole thing. Ruby made her way to an antique looking elevator lift that had been installed as an alternate to the stairs, which Emma could admit would get tedious. It brought the three friends to the upper level, which was outfitted as a miniature sketch studio.

Emma covered her mouth with her hand, as the other arm wrapped around her middle. She felt close to exploding with happy tears, and was trying her best to keep the tumult of emotions in. This room was like magic, outfitted with beautiful seating and all of the windows had been re-outfitted for the most clarity and the best view of the ocean before her. On the back wall, which was made of white bricks, there was a painted mural that read ‘Designer in Residence’ and both of the S’s were swans in the style that Emma often sketched in her down time.

“You guys, this is so perfect.”

“We’re still not done yet. Just you wait.” They made their way back outside of the lighthouse, and then led her to the house next door. Emma hadn’t even realized that the old caretaker’s house was still in tact inside. When they entered, it was more than in tact, it was now fully outfitted for jewelry assembly, with at least eight stations and necessary break space, on top of a full kitchen and display room.

“This isn’t just your dream anymore, Emma. Ruby and I are in this with you and it’s going to be great. We ran the numbers, and with the increase in sales and the impending boom, we can take on eight more employees just for the line.” The tears were falling down her face now as Emma nodded, still stunned that they’d done all of this for her.

“And we’ve decided you can come to the light house twice a week. Any more than that and we’d go crazy from missing you.” Emma smiled at that. She’d miss them terribly if she went that much without them too, so that worked perfectly.

“One last thing,” Mary Margaret said, “We were thinking of offering Tiana an apprenticeship with you. Basically she’d be your second, get to see how a business like this is built from such a small scale to a bigger one. Maybe then, when she graduates at the end of the year, we could convince her to stay.”

“That is a fantastic idea.” Emma hiccupped a little with the lingering tears and then broke out laughing at herself. Her friends followed suit as they each put an arm around her.

“So, how was New York? Was it crazy? Clearly they loved you, how could they not.”

“It was a little overwhelming really, because I was thinking about how all of this would work, but I didn’t have the foresight that you guys did.” Emma went on to tell them her ideas about their titles and roles with the line and both friends readily accepted.

“Does it come with a pay raise?” Ruby joked and Emma laughed.

“You know, I think it does. Call it a network TV perk.” Mary Margaret sighed wistfully.

“I still can’t believe it’s Socialites! That show is huge! It’s like a movement at this point.”

Oh did Emma ever know that. If she’d been in doubt before, the day’s activities and meetings on top of meetings had set her straight. The deal was also crazy. The show would be featuring ten necklaces per season over the next two years, an assortment of earrings and bracelets and then three to be determined pieces per season based on writer wants. In return, Emma would be featured in all of these publications, but she’d also make a bonus amount of money if her lines boosted social media or traditional coverage of the show. Somehow, though the show was doing her the favor, they were still paying her. It was unbelievable.

“Did you get any spoilers?” Ruby asked, and Emma smiled, knowing that Ruby was addicted to the series thanks to its fiery protagonist and heartthrob male lead.

“Actually I did. And, as soon as the contracts are signed and official, I get to tell you guys.” That had Ruby squealing with excitement and Emma laughing again.

The friends decided to head out, but Emma noticed the portrait of the three of them in the entryway that she hadn’t seen before. It was a candid shot of Mary Margaret, Ruby and Emma together at Three Fates as they shared a laugh over something she didn’t know. Emma stepped closer to the picture, admiring how beautiful the shot was and how it had captured a perfect moment so spectacularly.

“I have to say, Emma, you chose well with Killian. He really is something else.” Emma nodded at that. There was absolutely no denying that Killian Jones was exactly what she wanted, and right now, she couldn’t wait to find him and show him exactly how much she loved him for all that he was, and all that he gave her each and every day.

Post-Note: I hope that you guys enjoyed this week’s update! There are only six more chapters left for this story, BUT I will be accomplishing a lot in those. Trust me, more engagement/wedding/baby fluff in store as it is in all of my CS stories. Thanks again for reading, and as always, I love hearing your thoughts and feedback. It really means the world that you guys are enjoying these!