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[fckjagger-blog]

There’s plenty she could have said to get him to stop his advances, to shift from predatory to pliant (or as pliant as he gets by comparison), but he chose not to even entertain them as a hypothetical. Because since closing the door behind him, no, since he laid eyes on her tonight, he knew this was the way they had to settle things. After tonight, things were up in the air, decisions mostly falling upon her plate when it came to her boyfriend and whether or not anything would continue between them. He prized himself on the indifference he felt towards her choice either way, even though his obvious preference left the option open for his head to be between her thighs or his hands to be the ones tying hers behind her back. He let out a low, thoughtful sound, simply observing the rise and fall of her chest and the way her pupils were blown dark with lust. Unmistakable. She wanted him. He let his gaze linger deliberately on the ample display of her breasts in the gentle v cut of the neckline, pressing his thumb harder into the tattoo of his handwriting, not even needing to see to know the exact location. She was panting like she’d run a race; perhaps he’d ran it with her but he was far more prepared. Barely winded, even. And it was definitely a race he’d won. 

Even as he took steps to close the distance between them, his gaze remained steady, this time locking on her makeup coated lips. Peripherally, Jagger could tell she was preoccupied with the stormy darkness of his eyes. Though he’d obviously never been on the receiving end of their turbulence, he’d fucked in front of enough mirrors to know how fiercely passionate they looked in the heat of the moment. It was the same intensity he got through his music, his singing, his drums. Channeling it into something carnal and deeply satisfying brought out the same outward indicators and Annie was certainly no stranger to how he looked, how he moved, when he was turned on. “Course you do, kitten,” he hissed, hand at her hip sliding to her waist and pressing her back into the wall. “You fucking need me.” The obscenity drips from his mouth like honey and it’s barely breathed into the quickly closing space between them before he’s diving down to capture her lips in a bruising kiss. His goals were simple – bring them both as much pleasure as the very public location can allow and return her to her ‘boyfriend’ a mess, visible to anyone and everyone that she’d been well and properly fucked. His tongue pushed past the line of her lips without bothering for invitation, his free hand cupping her jaw and tipping it back with the ease one might position a doll. He chased the kiss hungrily, eyes shut as he allowed whatever tension had pent up with her protests to be channeled into the kiss. When he was satisfied she’d remain in her position tight against the wall, he allowed his hand to drift upwards, gripping a curve of a breast through the floral printed bodice. Disheveled and debauched would prove hard to achieve when she was dressed like a garden princess but he’d damned well find a way.

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[fckjagger-blog]

Only at the sound of heels clicking against the marble staircase did he pull his gaze away from Rhyannon’s father, who had begun an interrogation style game of twenty questions he felt destined to lose. Jagger couldn’t help the way his breath left his lungs, surprised to find that it was not out of relief at the distraction but out of awe. Rhyannon looked ethereal. It’s the only descriptor that could come to mind as she descended the staircase and approached the entryway where Jagger was stood with her parents, mother now come to join them once again. A genuine smile lit his lips and his gaze remained only on her, even as her father attempted to resume his list of strict requirements for the evening. “You look stunning,” he commented softly, extending his hand holding the remaining bouquet of flowers out to her. Wrapped around their stems was a little crystal bracelet. He was almost sure that she’d have something on for jewelry already; most girls tended to or they had a corsage made to match their dress. Since he’d not taken the time to figure out that important detail he’d, optimistically, hoped that a simple sparkly trinket might serve her well. From what he knew about women’s fashion, it wouldn’t clash too terribly with her outfit so he expertly slipped it off the bundle and offered both to her. “In case you -- wow. I just. Sorry. I’m really not all that eloquent right now.” With his gifts handed off, Jagger turned back toward Mr. Taylor, smiling politely. “I’ll have your daughter home at a reasonable time, Sir, and I promise to make sure she has a good time. Should you need me, I’m almost positive your wife has my cell number. If you’d like to take a few pictures, we could do that now? But we ought to be leaving soon.” For once in his life, Jagger didn’t want to be late.

The sound of the doorbell was her signal to take hold of her Balenciaga clutch and head down the stairs to greet her date –– - or at least that’s what she’d thought. Although her parents had already started down the stairs, Mariahs adept fingers wrapped around Rhyannon’s wrist, forcing her to stay. “Let him wait a little. It’s a rule of thumb – creates a little anticipation for your big reveal,” she explained with a wink, that was met with the roll of  Rhy’s own eyes. The brunette however, stopped at the top of the staircase, her head pushed past the wall in observation of the ushering. It had warmed her heart to see that Jagger being so respectful, as he handed her mother a bouquet, despite still clutching onto one. As her mother stepped away to find an appropriate vase, Rhy was given a moment to admire his choice of attire for the evening, the knowing smile not leaving her features. It’s Jagger. Of course he couldn’t wear something traditional to prom. He always seemed to be making some sort of statement. It was in that moment of distraction that came her own moment of realisation that her father, at that second, was likely to be giving him some sort of threatening lecture, despite having known the Christian family for years, through Addie. It was then that Rhyannon had declared the appropriate time to decent the stairs, her heels tapping against the marble as quietly as possible, so as not to draw too much attention. The rhythm of her Tom Fords had ceased, however, when her glance met his, a greeting smile playing on her expression.

[fckjagger-blog]

how was annie?

"Depends. Who wants to know?” 

[fckjagger-blog]

Give and take. Push and pull. Forward and back. Jagger felt as though he knew Annie well enough to be able to dictate her movements before she even made them. As they moved towards the back of the lavish lounge, he extended a long leg behind him to send the door flying shut with a loud bang. He might have moved something to block anyone else from entering but he wasn’t yet sold on how this evening would go. He knew how he wanted it to go -- he could read the signs from Annie’s body and the burning need to do as he pleased alight in her eyes. She wanted this but her lips were still forming protests instead of assent and it was Jagger’s one hangup. He might be a sex driven young man who didn’t always think with the head attached to his neck but he would never do anything against anyone’s consent. Besides, there was something so deeply satisfying about being given the control that Jagger felt no need to just take it. Everything about Annie’s reaction lent itself in his favor -- it encouraged him to push on, to see if he was persuasive enough to block out whatever hangups she might have about continuing (even as big a hangup as having a ‘boyfriend’). “i don’t know what I’m talking about?” he hummed lowly, more growl than anything else. “If I don’t know what I’m talking about, why are you responding so vociferously. Seems a bit over the top if I’m completely off the mark.”

“If I don’t do anything to you, why are your pupils blown so wide? So dark? I can practically hear your heart beating, kitten.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Her blood was flushed on her cheeks, creeping down her neck. Jagger could tell that he got her pulse going wild and it made his own heartrate quicken. “It’s one thing to try to lie to me but why are you lying to yourself, little princess?” He kept his movements slow and controlled. To have done otherwise might have pushed her over the edge upon which he’s driven her. He likes this balance between wrong and right; he enjoys seeing the fight in her eyes. It’s a fight he’s going to win he has no doubt about it. “Don’t you want this? Don’t you remember what I can do to you? What you let me do?” He plucked his scarf off from around his neck as he approached where she had stationed herself against the wall. Jagger took his time, wrapping and unwrapping it around his knuckles, calling to mind a very explicit use for the silken strip of fabric. “I can make you feel good again. I can make you feel so much better than he can. You know I’m right.” It wasn’t even a question at this point. Their conversation at the department store had alerted him to her level of insecurity where her relationship was concerned. No satisfied woman would have reacted to his teasing the way she had. Jagger stopped directly in front of her, smile slowly fading off of his lips. “I’m not going to make you feel good unless you ask for me to,” he explained bluntly. Slowly, his hand reached out to rest on her hip, digging his thumb into the place where his handwriting would always be inked into her skin. “So, kitten,” Jagger purred deliberately, using his other hand to drape the silk scarf over one of her slender shoulders. “Are you going to be good for me? Are you going to beg?”

Princess was less mocking the second time, and it did nothing at all in the way of quelling the arousal low in her belly. She knew that Jagger was perfectly aware of his effect on her, and for the moment Annie hated that part of herself that responded to humiliation, that was, in point of fact, very much turned on by it–especially with Jagger. Maybe that was because of his particular talent in making her feel like a little girl; perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that she knew firsthand the sorts of things he was capable of doing to her body. As he stepped closer to her, more like a jungle cat than ever before, Annie found herself moving backwards to accommodate. This was, however, impeded by a lovely little bench set against the wall, and when her knees knocked into it she barely caught herself before she lost her balance and dropped back onto it. She felt like prey, and it occurred to her that, being that this was Jagger, that may not have been unintentional.

His comments on her relationship were all the more horrible because they rang true, because they made the pit of guilt in her stomach double in size. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” she argued, disgusted by the tremor in her voice, by the very obvious note of uncertainty. She sounded hysteric, even to herself, and that made the humiliation grow–and on the tails of that, her arousal as well. His words were like searching fingers, making her skin erupt in goose bumps and her heart double its pace. A war had begun in her head; one part of her–the rational part, perhaps–had a very small voice, and it was telling her to leave. But the louder voice, the one she listened to ninety-nine per cent of the time, wasn’t having that at all. This was the side of her slipping very slowly but ever so surely into a headspace that Jagger seemed able to manipulate her into with very few words. “No,” she choked out, shaking her head, eyes wide and full of mixed defiance and begging. “No, you don’t do anything to me. I–I have a boyfriend. I don’t…” She broke off, swallowing hard, and she skirted around the bench, telling herself she was trying to get away from him–except that she didn’t go anywhere. She stayed close to the wall, watching him like an animal on high alert, but her eyes continued to plead with him. Don’t give me a choice, they said, and as though it had accidentally been said out loud she added frantically, “Jagger, stop!” He hadn’t even touched her, yet some part of her knew that wouldn’t last long. Not because of him, but because of her. Because her eyes were begging him not to stop, and despite her increasingly weak vocal protests, she already knew with perfect certainty that she wanted this, and that he knew that as well.

[fckjagger-blog]

Did you enjoy prom?

I completely and quite thoroughly enjoyed prom.

[fckjagger-blog]

Although he wasn’t exactly anyone’s idea of gentlemanly, Jagger knew how to clean himself up. He could play the part and that’s what he had every intention of doing for Rhyannon -- she was the one person in all of Pinedale, probably, who deserved a stunning evening. How he could make that happen for her was still beyond his grasp of comprehension but he’d try his best, he supposed. That started from the minute he walked up to her door, ringing her doorbell. In his hand, he held not one, but two bouquets of flowers. They were both equal in beauty and complimented one another perfectly. Jagger thought it was an especially poignant gesture consider the way he’d asked her to the dance (and then the way she’d asked him in return). He drew in slow, steadying breaths, going over what he planned to say a few times before rocking back and forth somewhat impatiently on the heels of his boots. Upon consideration, Jagger likely should have gone for some dress shoes, a classic tux, black and white instead of all black. It would ruin his rocker aesthetic though and so he was dressed to impress and had mental fingers crossed he didn’t get kicked off Rhyannon’s front doorstep for revealing probably more skin than her conservative family was expecting. When the door finally opened, his face brightened in a smile. Her parents were there first and he supposed his date would make her entrance down the stairs or something similar. And so it began. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor,” he hummed charmingly, separating the bunches of flowers and offering one of them to Rhy’s mother. “I got these for you, if that’s alright? Thank you for letting me have the honor of taking your daughter to prom.”

After applying what felt like the hundredth coat of lipstick on her, Mariah stepped back from Rhyannon, observing her with squinted eyes. “Perfect. You look absolutely stunning,” the makeup artist grinned with a great deal of pride, as if observing a masterpiece. “Mariah, the lipstick hasn’t budged since you’d last applied it about two and a half minutes ago,” the brunette laughed, checking the clock of her phone once again, not wanting to be late. Stepping into her closet, Rhy reached for the thin dress and held it up against her figure, observing it in the mirror. One of the most anticipated nights of senior year had finally arrived, and her excitement was unable to be contained, evident in the giddy tone in her voice, the smile plastered to her face, and her sugar high, despite the lack of sugar in her diet as of that day –– - her joy so prominent, it blurred out Mariah’s background chatter. Stepping into her shoes, and slipping on the dress, Rhyannon took one last glance at the mirror, somewhat pleased with the outcome, before noticing her mother leaning against the doorframe embracing the same expression Mariah had only moments prior. A space beside her, her father had his eye pressed to the viewfinder of his 5D, taking what seemed to be obligatory candid pre-prom photos. “Okay, you two can stop suffocating me now, or you’ll both scare Jagger off before I even see him.”

[fckjagger-blog]

She looked almost manic, so desperate to counter the easy, teasing statements he was spinning. Every movement of hers was dramatic, over the top, and absolutely entertaining. It was like the exchange at the mall but ramped up to a level that was far more charged, simply given the context of their surroundings and the way she couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. He had that effect on her; he was the reason she couldn’t look him in the eyes. In fact, Jagger noticed with a grin, her eyes couldn’t seem to keep off the exposed expanse of his chest. Knowing he could keep his attention there, he lifted a hand to brush his fingertips down the silky smooth scarf he’s got draped around his neck. He pinched the end of it between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the fabric with a low chuckle at her vocal outbursts. “Stop?” he drawled with an arched brow; his hand dropped the end of the scarf in the hopes that it would draw her gaze upwards. “What exactly am I doing that requires me to stop? Last I checked, being smug wasn’t a crime although...” Jagger took a few deliberate, slow steps towards her, noting with pleasure that her phone couldn’t provide the distraction from him she was so clearly seeking. There were spots of red spreading over her cheekbones that weren’t from the blush she had undoubtedly applied before the dance.

“Princess, I haven’t even tried to do anything,” he mused. A silent yet was added in his mind but he kept that to himself. It was more fun to watch her jump to conclusions especially since, in her panic, she seemed to be spilling more of what she was thinking to fill the empty space between them. “You know, I’m perfectly aware of the fact that you have a boyfriend.”  His head canted to the side, gaze narrowing. “But the fact that you’ve chosen to bring him up when I’ve done little more than just stand here is telling me that you’re needing to remind yourself of that fact. After all, a girl who’s in a happy, satisfying relationship wouldn’t feel at all threatened by her former hookup,” another step closer, “doing nothing more than just having a talk. Unless, of course, you feel something more than that.” Jagger’s brow rose and his smile grew, adding to the tension he was sure they could both sense mounting. “Do I turn you on, kitten? Just by standing here?” He pushed his fingers through his hair, slowly. Every movement was slow, deliberate, like a jungle cat encircling its prey. She wasn’t an innocent victim, though. Her body language, her words, and every moment leading up to this one told him as much. Besides, around him when had she ever been innocent? “If you answer me correctly, maybe I might be able to do something about it.”

She wasn’t having a bad time–it’s just that prom wasn’t quite living up to every fantasized expectation. Everything was beautiful, of course, and most of her classmates looked fantastic, but something simply felt off. Of course, there were plenty of things that came to mind: she and Brayden weren’t talking; she hadn’t had her parents–her dad especially–to see her off this evening; there had been no limo as she’d always envisioned since she’d been a little girl dreaming of prom; and then there was Jagger and Dylan. Seeing Dylan with Lila left her with a deep, hollow sadness in her chest that she immediately tried to block out–Jagger with Rhyannon was another story. It infuriated her, and no matter how she spun it she couldn’t escape the very obvious fact that it was seething jealousy making her so angry. With all of this turmoil going on inside, she wondered whether Eric was even surprised when she excused herself to go to the bathroom on the pretense of “powdering her nose”.

The hotel’s bathroom was decadent, but it served only as a pretty background to the moping she did inside of it. There was a pit in her stomach as she pulled a MAC compact out of her YSL clutch, and it remained there as she touched up her makeup and played with her hair, stalling, knowing she was stalling, and wondering whether prom was going to end up being the opposite of everything she’d ever wanted out of it. She’d spent ten full minutes in the bathroom when she finally forced herself to go back out there, only to be met with a very alone Jagger in a very empty lounge outside the bathrooms proper. Her heart leaped immediately into her throat upon seeing him, and the large sliver of his chest on display did nothing to help the matter. His words had a double effect on her, infuriating and arousing in one breath, and she turned to him with an expression that was meant to be calm but failed horribly. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so difficult if she hadn’t just run into him at the mall, if he hadn’t mockingly called her princess…or if she wasn’t so sure that he knew how miserable she was. Rolling her eyes exaggeratedly and flipping her hair over one shoulder, she shot him a glare that wasn’t nearly as powerful as she wanted it to be. “More than,” she countered, and internally cursed herself when she allowed herself to fidget with the skirt of her dress. “I’m having a lovely time, thank you so much for asking.” Her eyes trailed down his chest only a moment before she took her phone out of her clutch, stalling for two reason–one of them was quite obvious, being that she didn’t want to go back into the main ballroom; the other was something she didn’t want to acknowledge. Seeing as all her friends were here tonight, there was only so much she could do with her phone to distract herself, and it took less than ten seconds for Jagger’s presence to make her crack. “Will you stop!” she snapped, glaring over at him as she shoved the phone back into the bag. “God, you’re so…smug!” There were two bright spots of hectic red high up on her cheeks she could do nothing about, and it was humiliating in a way that was both terrible and devastatingly good. “I have a boyfriend, in case you’ve forgotten. So just…stop whatever it is you’re trying to do right now because it isn’t going to work!”

[fckjagger-blog]

( @anniewtvr )

Ever since their ‘discussion’ at the retail store (if you could call it that) Jagger had been ruminating. He wasn’t exactly concocting a plan or anything quite so devious. He was simply pondering the exchange and the clear signs of unhappiness he could feel radiating off of Annie, despite her best worded protests. As someone who considered himself quite gifted in the art of pleasure, he could tell when someone was displeased and currently, Annie Dawson was fitting the bill. They both had dates, which was proving to be the slightest of problems to actually confronting the blonde about this grievance she was so obviously carrying. His own date likely wouldn’t be a problem. Rhyannon was endlessly sweet and wouldn’t question him dashing off for a quick ‘chat’ with a friend. Annie’s date. Well. To say Jagger wasn’t fond of his former hookup’s boyfriend would be an understatement. While it could be said that Jagger wasn’t terribly fond of almost anybody (his prom date, sister, and a few choice guy friends being the only examples coming to mind), he was especially unimpressed with Eric and his unnecessary existence. 

Which might explain the smile that drew up the corner of his mouth as he found himself, inexplicably, with Annie, sans date. He’d excused himself from Rhyannon to freshen up and maybe had gotten slightly distracted by decor and snapchatting himself in all his prom outfit glory for both fans and friends alike. It was with his phone’s camera posed at the ready that he first caught sight of Annie, exiting the ornate bathroom across the hallway behind him, gloriously alone. He smirked -- as though that wasn’t his automatic expression when in her company -- and turned slowly on his booted heel. “Well, well, well,” he purred. “If it isn’t one of our princesses for the evening.” Jagger thought he might be able to get away with the nickname under the guise of ‘prom royalty’ though the way he said it was familiar for a different reason. “Is your night living up to expectations?” he inquired, ever so innocently, as though his shirt wasn’t unbuttoned obscenely down to almost his navel and he wasn’t wearing a wicked grin that matched the fire of challenge dancing in his eyes.

[fckjagger-blog]

Why. It’s a simple enough question but one to which he really doesn’t have another answer besides that which he’s already provided. He just wants to go with her and, thankfully, she wasn’t pressing the question nor refuting his insistence. His eyes were drown downwards to where her hand gripped the flower, his smile going a bit soft for how fond she seemed of the gesture. It had been a last minute add to an otherwise lackluster promposal. He nodded at her suggestion though his brow furrowed at both her request that he forget and her sudden movement to bring his hand back onto the stem of the bloom. As Rhyannon went on, a soft laugh emitted from between parted lips and he dropped his gaze to hide the full force of his smile. He’d been caught off guard -- something that almost never happened -- and he’s sure evidence of it would be visible on his features. When he’d managed to compose himself from the lapse of control, he lifted gentle greens back onto her face. “Yes, it would be my pleasure to be your date for the evening. I was thinking you’d never ask!” It’s a cliche enough phrase to make him laugh again and he lifted his free hand to cover the both of hers that it took to engulf his own. “Now I’ve got to pick out my dress.” That was, (hopefully) obviously, a joke and he shook his head with a smile.

The playful confidence in his tone was met with the upturn of the corners of her lips –– - smiling seemed to be her default expression whenever he spoke. Undoubtedly, such a quality in him only boosted her admiration, though she was taken aback by his tense words, a subtle sense of guilt coursing through her mind. “Jagger, you know I’d never mean to try to invalidate you.” That would probably be her last intention. At the sound of the words pretty girl, Rhyannon turned to lean her back against the row of lockers, training her eyes on another, unloading her books. “Just trying to understand why,” her question was stated quietly, though there was no inflection in her tone, so as to seem no answer was warranted. Rhy had hoped not to cause any additional apprehension than what she’d already done. After a short silence, her index finger stroked the stem of the flower absentmindedly, before she turned back to him, an exuberant smile gracing her features. “Screw gendered expectations, huh? How about you forget about the past ten minutes,” the girl begun, taking hold of his hand and entwining his fingers around the stem, before wrapping both her hands around his, ensuring that he wouldn’t let go. “Will you, Jagger Christian, allow me the honor to take you to prom?”

[fckjagger-blog]

“Or, better yet, we can hope things go absolutely wild. Not necessarily bad, just, y’know, entertaining. I’m all here for prom drama.”

“If you have a pessimistic outlook, sure. But we can hope things go right.”

[fckjagger-blog]

T E X T*&& -- o p e n

Graysen: I can definitely agree on that one

Graysen: just.. didn't feel like it, wasn't my thing, I guess

Jagger: Course ;) I'll snap you a pic later

Jagger: I mean, I guess that's fair. It's not really 'my' thing either, usually, but the DJs alright

[fckjagger-blog]

T E X T*&& -- o p e n

Graysen: you, Jagger

Graysen: are at prom? wow

Jagger: I am indeed

Jagger: and looking better than everyone here tbh

Jagger: why didn't you come :(

[fckjagger-blog]

T E X T*&& -- o p e n

Graysen: funny story haha

Graysen: I'm not coming to prom

Jagger: funnier story

Jagger: I'm AT prom lmao

[fckjagger-blog]

It was like he couldn’t keep his smirk from growing, each attempt at a defensive mark full of loopholes he could exploit. The exchange was just the sort of entertainment he needed to snap him out of the mundane task of prom shopping. He even found himself hoping Addie had a plethora of dresses to try on -- she could take all the time she needed. “Oh?” he arched a single brow, posture lengthening so even in his artful slouch against the jewelry cabinet, his height was fully on display. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but being thorough takes time, does it not? One day doesn’t seem like quite enough time, if you ask me. Especially considering you were thoroughly pleased by other options not too long beforehand. No matter how you spin it, I think you’re much more inclined towards the impulse buy than you’d like to let on.” His gaze was steady and unwavering, doing its very best to pick her apart along with every utterance that leaves his lips. “Quite the opposite, actually. Do you know Rhyannon? Gorgeous. Our class. Complete sweetheart without being --,” his nose crinkled, “childish.” That scold wasn’t directed at Annie in particular; it was more of a general observation of some of the girls their age. He let the faux diamond drop, pushing up from his position and seamlessly moving into her space. Their height difference made it a natural power play -- she couldn’t exactly stand her position strongly if she was delivering her protests to his chest. “I love a challenge,” he hummed lowly. “But, I’m starting to think you wouldn’t notice real quality over a cheap knockoff either.” His metaphors were dropping along with his tone, the smile staying firmly on his lips. “Who am I to judge if you’re into second rate goods, though? Not everyone can have the best.”

It was at once incredible and completely irritating, the way Jagger knew exactly how to use his body in the smallest ways in order to taunt her, to draw her eyes precisely where he wanted them. He was not unlike a large cat, a panther perhaps, lithe and lean and fluid in his confidence, the way he propped himself so easily against the counter, gracefully avoiding knocking anything over. Annie herself had had to cross her arms tightly just below her chest, knowing full well that her hands would be shaky not with anxiety but desire, a lust she’d been absolutely unable to control around him ever since the first time he’d broken her down to that core level of submission backstage before his show. The word satisfied coupled with the thumb he swiped across his lip nearly made her lightheaded, and she took as discreet a breath as she could manage. “I am plenty satisfied. As I said, I always like to be thorough when I shop.” The mention of a pocketbook made her clench her jaw, knowing that of course he probably wasn’t serious–although she supposed his phone was full of people’s numbers who would have been more than happy to oblige him. She thought of Montreal, of the fans they’d run into, and her irritation grew. Some part of her nearly thought it a good idea to make a sarcastic remark, but she was stopped from making that mistake as soon as Jagger said my date, her attention shifting thoroughly even as a swell of immense jealousy made her feel hot from her face down to her chest. “Taking a poor, innocent freshman, I expect?” she drawled, but to her great disappointment it didn’t come out sounding nearly as placid as she’d been striving for. “Those types are so easy to please; I thought you liked a challenge.” Her eyes followed the movement of his fingers as he reached for the necklace, a shiver moving through her body as his thumb caressed the face of the fake diamond. Forcing her eyes back to his, she felt the air between them crackle. “Pity you clearly wouldn’t know the difference between a cubic zirconia diamond and a Harry Winston…even if it was right in front of you.”

[fckjagger-blog]

“How can you tell? The night’s only just started -- there’s still time for it to go horribly wrong.” Always the optimist.

“I’ve never been a big one for formal events, but this doesn’t look too bad. Maybe we’ll actually have some fun.”

[fckjagger-blog]

He kept his eyes trained on her, languid smile still coating his lips. “People who don’t want to have a good time, I’d imagine,” he answered her, presumably, rhetorical question with a laugh. Her voiced self doubt was something to which Jagger had no immediate answer. He didn’t know what it was like to not have the kind of attention and self confidence he naturally possessed. “Wouldn’t say it’s unheard of -- I mean, unconventional, sure, but screw gendered expectations.” His accidental activist side was showing. Jagger drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a slow sigh. “You know, it would really mean a lot to me if you would stop trying to invalidate my invitation. I get that you’ve seen me at my worst, but I promise, this invite has no other intentions besides taking a pretty girl to a dance. Besides, if I just wanted to watch after Addie, I’d go stag. If you have any other excuses you’d like me to shut down, I’d advise getting them out of your system now so we can have a good time come prom day.”

The intensity of his gaze caused her to feel vulnerable –– - almost as if, by the look alone, he was able to read into her thoughts, and surely, the intimacy was enough for Rhy to be the first to look away, distracting herself with her locker. “Oh come on, who wouldn’t say yes to you,” she played off coolly, though she was certainly thankful that the locker was deep enough to conceal the slightest flush in her cheeks. “And you also know that I’m not the girl that people flock to… I don’t know, I was thinking of asking Jack, just for old friendship’s sake, but the girl asking the guy is unheard of, right?” Rhyannon laughed, pushing her locker door shut. “So is this some sort of overprotective big brother attempt to keep an eye on Addie? You know, the hall won’t be huge. You’ll be able to keep an eye on her either way.”