#painfully cute anon. kept just looking at it. ugh

[thejujvtsupost]

Heyo! Got a little sfw/fluff request about Geto and Gojo x reader (no established relationship) and maybe could end with the both of them confessing if it's alright 👉👈

Something in like Satoru and Suguru's school days and Gojo is always the popular one and Geto is kind of overlooked/compared with Gojo's beauty but the thing is Gojo doesn't like that people always shrug off his best friend then one day reader is in class with a few girls chitchatting and the boys pass by the class and overhear the conversation you were having and get curious (cause they know you through Shoko) and the girl group was talking about their favorite things in guys and most of them would say things they like about Gojo and when it was your turn to answer, you just said you really liked Geto's eyes when he smiles and kinda go on a rent about things your really like about Geto (actions, physical, personality, etc) and the rest is up to you :>

Thank you so much!!!

No Time Like the Present

Lmao not me releasing this before I fixed my formatting hahahaha 💀 Jfc. Anyway, sorry for the delay anon!

Notes: F!reader, College setting, reader and characters are 18-19, sort of unintentional confessions, eavesdropping, not unrequited love, reader is shy, Shoko & Gojo making bets, you’re both oblivious disasters.

“C’mon man, she’s been staring at you for weeks. No way she doesn’t like you.” The halls were empty while they roamed and wasted time. This conversation has been coming up more and more frequently. He never believed Gojo.

Geto knew his best friend was highly desired at their college - he didn’t blame anyone. But there were time (just this time, actually) when he wished he wasn’t in Gojo’s shadow.

Gojo didn’t get the vibe that you wanted him. Sure, you were friendly; even on the way to actual friends, but that was a totally different feeling. No, he didn’t need his technique to know your gaze was always on his best friend. Both of you were painfully obvious and absolutely oblivious to each other. As luck would have it though, Gojo knew where your class was and decided he’d create a little mischief - Wouldn’t it be a coincidence if you randomly bumped into each other?

Things were about to change for Geto.

Hearing your voice from your nearby classroom made him shoot Gojo an accusatory glare and felt his heart lurch. Gojo didn’t even bother with the look and dragged him to the wall to eavesdrop wait for you.

“This is weird, we’ll catch up with her later at Shoko’s-” he was cut of by Gojo obnoxiously shushing him.

“Shut up and listen!” He said with a whisper shout, his eyes were wide and he was gaining a bigger self satisfied grin by the second.

Fine. Whatever it’d take to make Gojo leave before you saw them.

You were sitting with two other girls, a blonde and a brunette.

“I think he’s dreamy! Those eyes, I wish he’d take his sunglasses off more often!" The blonde didn’t bother to hide her open admiration. Geto really didn’t want to hear you gushing over his best friend…

The brunette let out a sigh, “yeah he’s dreamy, but have you seen how hot he is? Those abs!”

Then they were looking at you expectantly for your contribution. “I think he’s nice… but I really like his friend more.”

“You mean Suguru Geto? He’s pretty hot too.”

“Yeah.” You felt your face flush. “It’s not that he’s hot, well he is. He’s so strong and tall and his smile is so- ugh that’s not the point!” Your friends started giggling at your expression.

“I think he’s also really kind and considerate… he’s been helping me with my homework, we’ve been studying together lately and he’s so smart! Funny too, the other day he said some lame joke about Gojo and I couldn’t stop laughing, I even snorted. It was so embarrassing! He knew it was lame and kept going though, my sides were hurting.”

That didn’t make sense to Geto, he thought your laugh was cute. “But he’s such a good listener too, he remembers the small stuff that I wouldn’t expect him to know. He knows how I like my coffee and we’ve only studied at a cafe twice.”

“Uh oh, someone’s got a crush!” They were teasing you, Geto couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He wished they hadn’t stopped your rant, though.

Geto had his body smushed as close to the door as possible, your blush was adorable and a huge boost to his confidence. Gojo was snickering and texting Shoko, there was an ongoing bet between them about how long it’d take for you guys to get together.

“It’s not like that! I mean, he wouldn’t go for someone like me anyway. Every time I think about asking him out I remember he’s way out of my league and I’m just me…”

Geto felt his heart squeeze. Just you? He loves likes just you. If anything you’re the one out of his league!

Your class ended not ten seconds later before Geto could formulate a better plan, you smiled brightly when you noticed him next to Gojo. Thirty seconds just wasn’t enough time to prepare everything he wanted to say; all he knew was that if you were feeling shy, he was going to ask you out as soon as he could. Anything to make you happy.

Starting right now, since there was no time like the present…

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! <3

[chil2de]

Hii! It's me again, the "teasing mom's broyfriend" anon. I just- you about killed me with that sequel. Hot doesn't even begin to describe it, really 🥵🥵

I have more :))

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

Megumi knows. He knows what a slut you are, knows you've been fucking his father behind his and your mom's back. He knows you only got with him to provoque his father. He knows all of that. And yet, he can't let go of you. He won't do his father this favour.

He avoids going to your mom's house with you as best he can, bc he just can't stand the two of you doing this to her, the poor woman doesn't deserve it. He never touches you when you come back from your mom's, bc he just knows you've been with him. There is, however, an exception. The only thing that can make him help you tease his dad is when they fight.

When it happens, Megumi goes visit your mom with you, and whenever she can't see it, he makes it a point to touch you a little more than would be appropriate in front of Toji. The mix of Megumi's hands all over you and Toji's warning glare could probably make you cum right then and there. Once, when your mom was out doing grocery shopping and Toji stayed behind with the two of you, Megs was all to eager to fuck you, make you scream his name, all for Toji's benefit.

Oh, you do so love it when they fight. You know you should hope for peace and harmony between father and son, but you have much more fun when they are at each other's throat.

You wonder what you would have to do to have both of them filling you up at the same time...

ugh okay sorry if this post is just a massive wall of text i had to cut down on spacing because i kept reaching tumblr’s limit on characters, and uh... incase you couldn’t tell, shit’s about to get serious if i wrote this much LOL this probably looks so clunkyyy :(( i apologise but i have like a line left or two? so i’ll compress everything by saying a massive thank you because this would not have been possible without your sexy ass intellect. i was seriouly fucking dying writing this, it might be the first or second piece i’m genuinely proud of and i thank you :) i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it

this piece makes sense as a standalone, but works a lot better if you read the previous piece! read my disclaimer here if you’re new <3

w.c: 2.8k / characters: 15k (incl spaces) and a special thank you to my beloved anonie. couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

day and night: two.

your bedroom door shuts with a quiet ring. you can only slump down against it, knees held into your chest. your thighs are still quivering like a poor little lamb.

as you move to type out a text for megumi to not come over, there’s a faint knock at the window. your heart burns, throat clogged and knees weak.

you don’t know if you can get up. hell, you don’t know if you should get up. there’s another few delicate rips against the glass and you manage to stumble over in fear of attracting toji’s attention.

“megumi?!” you mouth his name in alarm, dismay crawling onto your features.

your boyfriend gives you a dead once over, noting your matted hair, smeared mascara and weak posture.

of course he knows.

you can discern it clearly from the way he refuses to meet your gaze.

“can you just let me in?” he whispers, tone flat as his index motions over to the lock of the window.

you don’t know what to do.

after all, you’ve still got toji’s cum flowing inside you from earlier.

you fumble backwards, moving to allow his lanky figure to slip inside. megumi manages to hoist his leg up and over, squeezing inside with ease. he closes the window shut behind him, pulling the curtains.

“m-megumi? what are you doing he-“

he doesn’t have time to waste.

megumi knocks the wind out of your lungs as his cold hands seize the sides of your head, stealing your lips for a kiss. he tugs at your bottom lip, tongue drinking you in for a couple of moments like you’re the last meal he’ll ever eat.

“shit.” he hisses, pulling his face back and screwing his eyebrows in mutiny.

oh, but if you didn’t love the way he looked at you like you were pure filth.

“you taste like him. it’s disgusting.” he spits, wiping his delicate lips with the back of his hand.

he knew, but there was always a part of him that wished you wouldn’t submit yourself to the likes of toji. he just had to see it for himself.

“come on, megumi-chan~ thats no way to talk to your girlfriend, is it?

your mother doesn’t deserve this. megumi doesn’t deserve the heartache, either.

megumi can’t see anything but the spitting image of his father all over your body, licking and fondling all the same crevices that he has. but he can’t get enough of you. he can’t stop, can’t turn away from you. he knows that at the end of the day you're spoon-feeding him phrases he wants to hear.

but you’re so good to him.

your pussy fits him like a glove. your hand intertwines with his perfectly. your head is the perfect size to cuddle onto his chest.

there’s something about you that makes you more addicting than nicotine.

bony and slender fingertips ghost over your thighs. you can’t help the squeak that hiccups from you. megumi raises an eyebrow in scepticism before flipping the hem of your miniskirt up.

he scoffs, slicking his long middle finger against your hot cunt.

“don’t hold it in.” he reprimands you, flashing a grimace as you squabble with him.

“b-but toji-“

“but what? am i not good enough for you?”

you swallow thickly, chanting a small prayer before allowing toji’s cum to drip out of your pussy. you shiver, goosebumps licking your skin when you can feel the warmth of his seed ooze and coat your soft thighs. you can’t avoid the burn of megumi’s regard as he watches the cum slowly flow out of you.

he’ll make you want him.

megumi can’t fully comprehend why you keep running back to his father instead of him, why you choose toji over him. like father like son, it evokes a bubble of magma in the form of competition and jealousy.

he’ll make you beg for him. that’s for sure.

“get on the bed.” he whispers, tone cold and even. there’s no warmth to his voice, even with his usual monotonous tendencies you can tell you struck a nerve. it makes your stomach churn, butterflies swooping in and adorning your vital organs.

like a moth drawn to a flame, as though you have no mind of your own, you step backwards until the back of your knees kiss the metal frame of your bed. megumi towers over you, pushing you backwards as he crawls in between your thighs.

the crisp ring of his zipper sliding down clashes against the room. why should he undress himself properly for the likes of someone like you?

“there’s no point in prepping you. i think you know that.” megumi sighs, relieving his twitching cock from the confines of his painfully tight boxers.

you can feel the avarice swirl in your abdomen, cold fear stilling in your veins at the mere thought that you could get caught by toji at any second. it makes your fingertips tingle and stomach churn. when you wail a needy whimper, megumi only shakes his head before plastering his icy cool hand against your wet lips.

a part of megumi wants to let all hell break loose. if he allows you to moan as you please, it won’t be just toji hearing your cries of ecstasy. knowing your mother, perhaps she’d be a little glad to know that your boyfriend is meeting your needs sufficiently. whereas toji?

it puts him in a predicament. from a bystanders point of view, toji has no right to storm in here and to shriek at megumi for blowing your brains out.

why?

because he’s not your dad.

he’s not a paternal figure in your life. there’s no right for him to say what you can and cannot do. he won’t hold that kind of reign over you like your mother does. and megumi likes that. he relishes the idea of toji being forced to listen to you babble megumi’s name, to mewl and cry for him to hit it deeper whilst he can’t do anything but complain.

it’s not like you haven’t heard your mother with other men plenty of times. it’s only natural, right? hell, she’ll probably gossip with you about it.

a carnal desire glosses over megumi’s steel blue gaze. like a wolf waiting to pounce onto a hare. he can see the way your thighs squeeze, how you gulp before him with those doe eyes of yours. you’re practically purring underneath him. for once, megumi gathers the reasoning to understand why his father finds you so intriguing. there’s nothing better than having your own toy melt and oblige under every command.

your boyfriend’s hand finds its way to your chest, where he rests the palm flat underneath your breasts. he steadies himself, using you as leverage as he guides his dick through the cum stained mess of your cunt. your heart pounds in anticipation, drool coating the back of your tongue as your pussy throbs around him. he manages to fit his tip in, dragging the enlarged and sensitive muscle against your walls. your ankles flutter around megumi’s waist, lower body strength trembling as you attempt to pull him in further.

“m-megs- please..”

“what?” he screws his eyebrows, staring you down. you can’t find the words in you to plead for him.

“what the hell? why act all coy now?“

“that’s not how we do things around here, is it? so spit it out. i won’t get what you’re trying to say otherwise.”

megumi slips his dick out, grinding against your clit as his torso flushes against yours. he pulls you in for a quick kiss, enough to relinquish his appetite, but not enough to taste the filth that corrupts your sweet and innocent lips.

“those cute little whines of yours won’t help you, either.” his breath flickers against your skin, sticky tongue licking trails as he works to mark up your neck. you can feel the tears prick your eyes already. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, how it throbs against your cunt and the droplets of perspiration trickling along your skin. you can feel megumi’s pulse heavy against your clit, the way his dick twitches as he smears the tip through the folds of your slick. it’s slowly driving him insane. but that’s okay. even through the static that bounces around in his skull- he knows that you hate it more.

after all, your boyfriend knows best.

your fingernails soar around to megumi’s back. you want to scratch him, but you can’t access his toned skin through the layers of his jacket. instead, you’re left fumbling and scrunching the fabric like a feline with an insatiable desire to itch its claws.

“megumi- please, it’s too much-“ you huff through laboured breaths, peering up at him through tear stained eyelashes.

it’s almost enough to make him melt. almost.

“what is?”

“this?”

he shifts himself back up, grabbing his dick and slipping only the tip in once more. he allows you a few centimetres extra before dipping back out and repeating the process again. megumi’s gaze locks with yours, as though he’s asking ‘is this what you want?’

“s-stop teasing me.. just put it in alreadyy~” you choke out a groan of frustration, ready to slam your hips down onto the full length of his shaft.

“why should i?”

“megumi, i swear to god- if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“-or what? you’ll go to my dad? good luck, when you couldn’t even fulfill your duties as being his toy.”

so fucking humiliating.

the way megumi instantly stands up and proceeds to stuff his still hard and leaking dick back into his boxers.

he’ll deal with it later.

you’re left stuttering, unable to form any coherent words, thoughts or insults to spew back at him. legs wide open, cunt empty and glistening in the blue tint of the moonlight.

he leans over, swiping some of your excess drool with his thumb before dipping it into your mouth. he half expects you to lick at his thumb, convince him to stay a little longer, but his skin sits in your mouth like a forgotten thermometer for a couple of seconds.

“if only you could see your face right now.” he hums, tone flat with a certain mockery.

sometimes, as the days pass, you can notice his resemblance growing closer and closer to toji.

-

the following day

you haven’t left the quarters of your room for the entire day. you’re stuck in bed, face mushed into the confines of your pillow. you’ve always held high regards of the fact that your libido isn’t necessarily extremely high, but when you’re promised dick just to be neglected of it? shit feels like you’re in heat. you can’t go to toji, because you’re mother’s home. not only that, but he’d be sure to teach you one of his lessons. you’re already shivering thinking of the conversation with him, how you’d even try to dig out of that hole you were already so deep in.

you can’t call megumi either… at least not for now. you sigh wistfully into the pillow, kicking your legs about on your bed as you hiss a groan of turmoil.

there’s a sudden knock at the door that snaps you out of your haze. it leaves you pumped, blood coursing through your veins and you shoot up like an attentive little puppy about to be taken for a walk.

“it’s open!” you clear your throat, humming.

the disappointment rocks your features so clearly that it’s embarrassing. it’s just your mother.

“you okay? thought you died in here, baby. lunch is ready, and your lovely megumi-kun came to say hello.”

what?

“megumi? that’s nice. did he leave a message or anything? like he just dropped by to say hello or-“

“hm? oh, no. he’s having lunch with us.”

“is everything okay, dear?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m good. sorry, i spaced out a little bit. small headache, that’s all. i’ll change clothes and i’ll come out to eat.” you dismiss your mother, keeping in the hyperventilation you’re about to undergo. she gives you a small glance of concern before returning to the dining room to serve her guests.

“(y/n)! we were just talking about you!” your mother hums, gifting you a smile of warmth and radiance as she pours drinks into some cups.

you can feel toji’s mocking stare dig holes into your skin.

you can fucking feel it.

you can imagine him saying it.

“slut.”

at the six chaired table, you scurry to sit the furthest away from megumi and toji. your mother shoots you a sideways glance, motioning for the seat between toji and megumi. you swallow thickly, awkwardly striding over to take a seat.

your knee accidentally knocks into toji’s and you instantly utter an apology.

“you should be.” he mutters underneath his breath, disguising the words as a sigh.

“so? you said you were talking about me?” you straighten yourself, perking up a semblance of cheerfulness and perfect innocence.

“oh, right! toji was just telling me how stuffed you were yesterday!”

your lids flicker in shock and you abruptly stare at toji, whose half lidded jade green eyes slowly land on yours before locking to meet your attention for a few seconds.

“sorry, what?” you stutter, finding it difficult to believe the situation.

“you know, the food? are you sure you’re alright, honey? you’ve been acting strange since this morning.”

“i’m fine, i swear. just some painkillers would be nice.”

when your mother turns around to rummage for some painkillers, she emits a squeak of alarm at the lack of them.

please. you’ll do anything to get out of this predicament.

“are we out? i can go grab some-“

“-no, that’s okay. i’ll head out. i need to grab a few extra things for dinner anyway. you three, make nice with each other!”

sure.

when the door shuts, you realise you’re out of options.

you can’t run away.

“so, megumi. how’s eating up after my leftovers feel?”

“leftovers? because one woman wasn’t enough for you?” megumi scoffs, averting his gaze.

“it’s not my problem that your woman came running to me. doesn’t that say something about you?”

“like what?”

“like, you can’t fuck her properly?”

“i can’t fuck her properly? but you’re telling her to keep your cum inside her? don’t you care what’ll happen if she gets pregnant?”

“see, megumi. she’s on birth control. you didn’t know that? and besides, if i didn’t know any better-“

toji finally allows you his undivided attention, staring right through to your soul.

“-i’d think your little girlfriend here likes walking around with my cum inside her.”

you’d be able to run a butter knife through the tension hanging in the air. the room holds its breath, and as do you in compliment of trying not to set things off into a piping hot mess.

“isn’t that right-“

“-princess?”

your fight or flight response kicks in at the malicious tone that coats toji’s tongue. you swallow thickly, throat parched and lips cracked.

but fuck.

if it isn’t the most arousing thing- the two of them squabbling over you.

toji screws his face at you, features lighting in a mix of awe and delight.

“really? you’re seriously enjoying this?” toji hums with mockery, eyebrows perking at your unusual behaviour. he can smell the sweet nectar of your arousal slicking against your underwear.

you abruptly stand up, ready to leave.

megumi’s hand curls around your wrist. he slings your hand behind your back, slamming you over the table. some silverware and plates clatter and dash against the hardwood floor.

“answer the question, (y/n).” he hisses.

you whimper a soft whine. there’s no way you’re answering that.

“get your fucking hands off of her.” toji barks, kicking his chair back.

“try me.”

something washes over you. a premonition, say. that if you don’t speak up, someone will end up seriously injured.

“i can’t choose between you two. i just can’t. so i think it’s the best option if we just stop this completely.” you sigh, prying megumi off of you. his stance relaxes and you wince at the pain in your spine. you rub your wrists in slight agony, refusing to meet either of their gazes.

“it’s been fun, but i think it’s time to draw the line-“

“no.” toji remarks offhandedly.

“huh?” you contort your face in offence. there’s something thick on megumi’s face, too. it almost looks like determination?

“i said no.” toji reiterates, taking a stride towards you.

his index and thumb caress your chin, tilting your jaw up to look at him.

“i don’t care how long it takes. whether it’s me or him-“

“-i’m making you choose.”

[hotdamnhunnam]

Will You Just Fuck Me Already

A/N: Here’s another requested fic from my Ironhead Imagine Ideas list!! In which Will Miller is the biggest tease ever—he can spend hours with his fingers and his face buried between your legs… before he treats you to the world’s most epic sex. You’ve been bratty all day, so Will is gonna make you pay for your behavior in his favorite way: taking you to the edge, making you fucking beg.

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, punishment, dom!Will Request: This delightful anon request!

Word Count: ~2k

“Just a quick fuck before dinner, babe...”

“Will...” you squeal as you squirm your way out of his grip, trying not to cave in to the dominant way he takes hold of your hip. Softy slapping his hands away. “Stop that—we’re already late.”

Your insatiable fiancé clearly doesn’t give a shit about your fancy dinner date. “Dinner can wait.”

“Unlike someone who can’t,” you snap as you wriggle again from his ravenous hands. “Apparently you need to learn some restraint. Showing up late is rude.”

“Then push the goddamn reservation back,” he rasps, his hot mouth latching onto your neck, as one hand gropes under your dress to deal your ass a playful smack. “You know you want to. Know you want me more than food.”

Ugh���you both know it’s true. There’s no denying Will when he is in this kind of mood... which happens all too often. You’ve lost count of all the times you’ve given in. He knows that you’re a total slut for him and always have been.

But this time is going to be different. This time you’re going to keep him on his toes. Although Will knows you’re his to own, of course he knows... you can’t let him go on assuming that his dick is the one thing you’ll always want. “...what if I don’t?”

Will drops his jaw, the slightest bit. Blue eyes dark as he processes that shit. Confused and honestly in awe—you’ve never turned him down this way. Responds after a long, bemused pause. “The fuck did you just say?”

Averting your gaze, you try not to laugh at the straight up hilarious look on his face. “What if I’m actually more in the mood for a Michelin-starred amuse-bouche?”

“You can’t be serious,” he groans, like a dog going after a bone, barely able to handle how hungry he is. “Bitch, I’ll amuse your... bouche...”

“That’s cute,” you coo, kissing his cheek while he stands there unable to speak, as you head toward the door. “High time you learned some patience, Miller. You can have me after dinner.”

Will may have lost this battle, sure. But he’ll be damned before he lets you win this war. Shoots you a look savage enough to kill. “Babe, you’re gonna regret this.”

You sure as hell will; mark his words. Even more than you’d ever expected.

***************

To tell the truth, you know exactly what you’re doing. Will does, too. You’re goading him on with the goal of getting ruined. Playing coy, because you know that if you work your wooden soldier like a little wind-up toy, then you’ll end up good and destroyed. He’ll slam you up against the wall when you get home, and make you cum a million times before the night is done. Whip out his raging cock and rip apart your cunt. Which is exactly what you want. If this is war, you’re pretty sure you’ve fucking won.

Too bad this time you’re dead fucking wrong.

You’d been teasing him all dinner long. From the amuse-bouche to the salad to the soup course. That was probably the worst—you practically put on a porno with your spoon and didn’t care if it was wrong. Played into all your filthy thirsts. Ordered some sort of decadent bisque, white and creamy and thick. Let the delicate silver spoon linger against your lips, transgressing etiquette to let its contents drip, a little bit, so you could scrape and slurp the white stuff slowly off your fingertips. Meat for your entree, needless to say. Something creamy again for dessert, crème brûlée, which got him feeling some kind of way.

Now the two of you are finally back home again, and you can’t fucking wait. 

Before dinner began, you’d honestly been teasing Will all fucking day. Woken up before him in the morning, denying him your usual kick-off-the-day sex without any warning. Hopped out of the shower before he could join in. Kept on making escapes and excuses all day and all evening. Repeatedly told him how busy you’d been, though you really weren’t even. 

All damn day you were being an absolute brat. Now at last you’re all finished with that. Day is done, night is late... and you’re just glad that your wound-up soldier will finally be taking the bait.

Once he guides you inside and the front door is slammed shut, you’re all set to serve as his personal slut.

So you desperately throw your whole body against him.

Will doesn’t react in the way that you had been expecting; he doesn’t melt into your hands as you reach to unbutton his shirt. Simply mutters one word. “Bedroom.”

Blinking up at your beloved Ironhead, you take a hot minute to make sense of what he just said. The meaning should’ve been obvious, but your own raging hormones have turned you into an oblivious mess. Your own hunger to cum always renders you dumb. “Hmm...?”

“Haul that naughty ass upstairs and wait for me there,” he commands, loud and clear, every word an attack on your ears. “Naked on the bed. Both hands above your head. Don’t even think about touching yourself, because I own that cunt. No one else. Understand?”

Holy mother of hell... you attempt to obey, but you end up just taking a couple steps back till you’re pressed up against the far wall in the foyer. You’re unable to take your eyes off of your captain when he’s barking orders at you in this way. Try to answer him yes sir but it inevitably comes out as a desperate, unintelligible yelp.

Will just places both hands on his hips and expectantly purses his lips. “Well?”

You trip over the flat fucking floor as you hasten to do what you’re told like a good little whore. Who the actual fuck even are you anymore?

Without a clue just how much Will intends to torture you, just how long of a wait you have in store... you quickly strip naked and spread out on the bed, just as he’d said, and lay there waiting with your eyes glued to the door.

Ironhead always likes to win his battles fast. He’s all business, efficient like that. But when it comes to shit like this... well, this is different. Damn does he like drawing out the war.

When he finally enters, he’s never looked better. It goes without saying you’ve never been wetter. His shirt is off, letting you see every inch of his bare upper body, glorious and godly, the smooth sculpted muscles you love.

You honestly cannot believe you’re engaged to such a fucking heart-stopping hottie. Your gaze wanders all over his epic tattoos, lingering on your personal favorite, the one dedicated to you.

Your gaze can’t linger for too long. Without saying a thing, Will orders you to meet his deep blue stare—he never needed words to issue a command; he’s such a captain, such a king, that even his silence is strong. So you obey right then and there. Your fiancé, this flawless sex god of a man, has fucking plans to make you pay, for every damn thing you’ve done wrong.

He approaches the foot of the bed, raising one hand to rake through the soft golden hair on his head. Thumb of the other hitched in his belt. God, he wears those jeans so fucking well. You are such a damn whore for his hands... only thing for which you’re even more of a whore is the massive dick you can see bulging like mad through the crotch of his pants.

The force of Will’s gaze silently commands you to look back up at his face again. Aye, Captain.

Then the bastard has the nerve to ask a motherfucking question. “What did I tell you earlier tonight?”

Excuse me, sir? How dare you ask something like that? He asks as if you’re even capable of forming words, to give him a reply. Yeah fucking right.

Will takes a few steps closer, leaning down over your body on the bed. And you’re so fucking dead. “You really gonna start shit off this way? Two seconds in, already you don’t know how to obey?”

Sir... this is not okay...

“Remember what I fucking said...” he grunts, and then—sweet Jesus Christ—places a hand upon your thigh, dangerously close to your wet cunt, “...or else you’re gonna spend the next whole week waiting for me in bed. That what you want?”

Oh God. Oh God. How is it even possible for any human being to be so painfully hot? You force your breathless mouth to stammer out an answer. “N-no, sir...”

“That’s what I thought,” Will huffs, squeezing your tender inner thigh with a firm touch that’s somehow all at once both sensuous and soft, yet ravaging and rough. The kind of touch he knows you love. “You should’ve thought of that before you spent the whole day being such a goddamn brat. Denying me a piece of this sweet ass. This pretty pussy, every inch of this delicious little body that you know fucking belongs to me.”

“Will... f-fuck—” you gasp, as he tightens his grasp. “Fuck, I’m so sorry...”

“What was that? What do you call me?” he rasps, dealing your soft skin a sudden sharp slap. “I know you’re sorry, babe. Don’t worry. Know just how to make you pay.”

“Ugh—sir, yes sir...” you murmur. Honestly couldn’t be sorrier, for how you had behaved, all fucking day.

“Now what did I say?” he demands, moving in closer toward your dripping cunt with his dominant hands. “Tell me or else I swear I’ll never let you cum again.”

Fuck yes—fuck no—whatever you say goes, Captain. Somehow this man makes hell sound like heaven. His words, his touch... it’s all just going to your head. You want him so damn much. Whole body squirming on the bed. You’re so insanely wet, you’re almost squirting and he hasn’t even touched you yet. “You said... you said I would regret...”

He deals your upper leg another swat. “Go ahead, slut. Regret what?”

“Denying you like that,” you stutter, doing your best to obey your fucking sex god of a fiancé, the man who owns you like no other. “Being such a fucking brat...”

“That’s right,” he sighs, palms sliding even further up your inner thighs. “Now are you ready for punishment? Why don’t you go ahead and tell me, cunt... tell me what kind of punishment you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you plead, as his masterful fingers move closer toward your soaking heat.

Then the wicked son of a bitch snickers... no such luck, you figure. “Well, isn’t that sweet.”

You grovel on the bed, groaning through gritted teeth. “Sir, just—please...”

“Please what, you dirty fucking slut?”

“Please, sir...” you whimper, as you turn to mush beneath his fingers, melting at his touch. His hands hovering just above your cunt. All you can think of is the thick hard cock that you can still see throbbing through the denim of his crotch. It’s everything you fucking want. You’ve truly never needed anything so much. “Will... Will you just fuck me already?”

Will loves making you like this—all shaken, unsteady. Always says when you’re right on the edge, you look so fucking pretty. You sure don’t feel pretty right now. But the way that his eyes fucking sparkle at you, as he takes in the view, clearly he seems to think so somehow.

“Mmm, so greedy. So needy,” he taunts, as his hand comes within inches of your aching, dripping cunt. “You want me to just fuck you already? Is that what you want...?”

Without words, your whole body responds.

And without words, Will answers: you’re not getting fucked until he’s good and done. Till then, he’s gonna punish your ass all night long. Just as you had been doing to him all damn day.

Now it’s Will’s turn to make you pay, in his favorite way: by spending hours with his fingers and his face buried between your shaking legs... denying you the right to get fucked by him, or to cum—you’ll have to earn that fucking privilege—taking you to the edge... making you fucking beg.

***************

... Continued in Part 2!

Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did!! 🤗💖

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[lunar-writings-love]

College!AU - Yeosang (ateez)

After a break (i’m still super sorry about that) I’m back with the series!! I said I’d do hongjoong second, but a lovely anon sent in a request asking for yeosang or wooyoung and i couldn't say no! 

Author’s Note: bullet fic

warnings: cussing?? ://

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeosang: 

he’s so precious i love him gOD

anyways yeosangie is ,,, just such an interesting guy 

an enigma really 

everyone knows of him, but not many people know about him

he seemed to be everywhere at the university: in the dining halls, the library, his dorm room, the lounge, he was just ,,,

omnipresent 

everywhere you went ,, just ,, there he was

but because of that he became pretty popular 

he’s just such an easygoing guy and his sense of humor is honestly amazing

people loved to come up and talk to him

the cute english major with that old skateboard always glued to his side 

he truly was friends with everyone

the athletes, the bio majors, the humanities and arts kids, e v e r y o n e 

not to mention he was a major heartthrob 

but this dumbass ,,, never caught on 

girls and guys alike would come up and flirt to no end; asking for his number, help on understanding english for their assignments, how to skateboard,  e v e r y t h i n g ,, but yeosang was too pure for that 

he’d agree to all of it not knowing people’s ulterior motives 

so much that now a days all it took was one side glance from someone and wooyoung was already up and vowing to rip them a new one if they so much as even tried it with yeosang 

he was the members’ baby boy lmao rip jongho 

that being said ,,,

you knew who yeosang was

you and yeosang were never close or friends really, and you doubt he knew your name 

but you knew him because ,,,, i mean the man is gorgeous let’s not lie here your friends mentioned him at least a couple times a week 

and you appreciated the fact that he skateboarded everywhere

as an environmental science major, you can respect people who try to minimize their carbon footprint

so while he may have no idea who you were, it was still good to know that you weren’t alone because the catch was ,,

there was a mix-up in the system and you didn’t get to room with your friends

and at first you were kinda down because the girl randomly placed in your friends’ room refused to do a room mate switch, so you were just kinda stuck there 

but when the start of your second year came around you were relieved to see a familiar face as your neighbor ,, yeosang!1

he decided to room with wooyoung and san which didn’t come as a surprise to u because ,,, those three were joined at the hip 

and the girls you got placed with were both third years who you had never met before

they were nice and meant well, but you were so painfully shy and since the other two were already friends you felt awkward trying to place yourself into the mix

but alas , life goes on  

you developed a routine of waving and greeting yeosang in the morning since you both were cursed had 8 ams

a month into the quarter now and you fell into a nice and simple routine;

wake-up for your 8 ams, wanting to die as soon as you realized you only got 3 hours of sleep, get ready, see yeosang leaving his room also looking like he wants to die , greet him , get breakfast , sit through class, come back, sleep , repeat 

lIfE waS jUSt gReat:DDD

but college really do be like that sometimes

and what was even better !! was that one of your room mates had a boyfriend and liked having him over a lot 

which wasn't an issue and you supported her 

it’s just that ,,,, you wanted to stay in on fridays but she had asked you guys if she could have the room from 5-8 on friday nights because ,,,,

,,,,,,so every friday from 5 to 8 you would either watch netflix or study in your floor’s lounge, and because it was a friday night most people tended to go out so you didn’t mind much 

it did come as a surprise though, when one friday night yeosang joined you at around 6:30

he just smiled sheepishly “wooyoung has someone over”

you nodded in agreement 

“my room mate too”

then .// it was silent ,, both of you just kind of looking anywhere but each other

despite yeosang’s popularity, what people didn’t really know about yeosang was that the boy was also painfully shy and awkward much like a certain y/n

BUT HE WAS DOING HIS BEST

so he tried again “Soo what are you doing?”

you were surprised he wanted to continue talking to you 

“uhhhh just watching some demon slayer”

“bro no way i love that”

“wait really??! are you caught up on the manga?”

“hell yeah do you know what’s up with Tanjirou??”

and before you knew it, it was 9 at night and you had been talking to yeosang about everything and anything for almost 3 hours now 

you had been bLEssED 

then the time came when yeosang’s phone chimed ,, wooyoung was finally done sinning 

and it was time for him to go :////

“you’re y/n, right?”

“yep!”

“cool, I’m yeosang”

“right, i know that”

“....right”

then // it was silent yet again 

but the thing was , yeosang really liked you 

he didn't know your name, but he always thought his --always sleep deprived neighbor-- was super cute 

with your bedhead and 

groggy voice 

and sleepy smile 

ugh

 he really wanted to get to know you more 

but he figured it would’ve been awkward

so before he could lose all his courage yeosang practically yelled at you “DOYOUMaYBEwANNAGetsoMEcOFFEEsoMETIME??!/”

it took you a few seconds to process because hAHAHAH WHAT?!!?

but then you pulled yourself together like the responsible young adult you are and mustered 

“I’d love to, we can meet up next week when the new manga chapter drops?”

and then y’all were exchanging contacts and good nights 

and when he left you internally screamed 

what just happened??

did ,, THE kang yeosang ask u on a date??!?

was it even a date?!?

by the way yes it was 

SO THE FOLLOWING WEEK THERE YOU GUYS WERE 

at a cute coffee shop a couple of minutes off campus 

and the rest is history!!

you got to finally get close and get to know the strange and mysterious kang yeosang 

who wasn't really strange or mysterious at all, he was just a weeb a super cute and nice guy you were totally falling for 

y’all finally kissed on the third date after having an extensive conversation on the ending of naruto and because he’s a gentleman unlIKE his Mom SeonGhWA

and omg you guys were so cute 

he taught you how to skateboard

and you taught him how to be more environmentally conscious 

your dates included going to ramps on campus, attending environmental rallies, having him read english literature to you as you drifted off in sleep, 

and most of all /// lots and lots of crunchyroll premium 

that yeosang stole off of mingi poor boy didn’t even know 

BUT YEAH 

after that you met all the boys 

you already knew wooyoung and san, but you got really close to wooyoung because that ,, makes sense 

all the boys love you sm 

you were their baby 

uwu rip yeosang AND jongho 

and you loved all the members!

and on your two month anniversary, yeosang bought you two matching phone cases 

they were naruto ones 

he gave u sasuke and he kept sakura’s 

“wait why am i sasuke? wouldn’t it make more sense if i were sakura”

“don’t question it” he said as he slipped his phone into his case

sakura was his childhood crush and he wanted her phone case bAbY bOY

but anyways, yes // he was the sakura to your sasuke!

and wooyoung was naruto 

~~~~~~

Okay guys! hERE it finally is after like 5 months ....... I’m so sorry!!1 Hopefully you guys like this one! I’m kinda rusty but I’ll get back into writing!!! Thanks a lot for the love and support!! love you guys!!! <333

- Luna

[mwolf0epsilon]

Same anon from the werewolf prompts ask. I was mostly asking because I'd love to see the 3rd, 4th and 10th prompt for a Polycho fic. You can decide who the werewolf is, or if all of them are wolves or not. I'm not picky!

The hardest part of getting bit is that, even when he's the "big bad wolf", Josh still can't find a place among his peers.

Luckily the wolf has an eye for good folk and maybe someone up there is finally looking out for him.

---

[[MORE]]

Despite what anyone might believe, Josh Sawyers had always lived a little rough. He'd gone to school, was well read, enjoyed arts and history, and had dreams of being a teacher one day. Sadly, he'd not had the money to pursue a higher education and due to his area of residency and skin color he was considered nothing but a lowly thug.

No one wanted to hang out with the too smart black kid that lived very close to the woods. No one but his family really. But that too had changed when he'd gotten bit.

No point keeping another mouth to feed when it might try to take your hand with it, and having a werewolf in the family would have further ostricisized his parents and siblings from the All American Dream society they were busting their asses to belong to.

In the end, Josh had just accepted it and left.

If he could run from muggers and cops that looked at him with predatorial grins and murderous eyes, he should be able to run with the crew of wolves that further complicated his life.

Except he couldn't.

"Yes I understand I'm a big bad werewolf now but really, I dont want to hurt those cute little rabbits and deer, can't we just wait until we transform back to eat?" He shrunk back when some of the others glared at him with condescending exasperation "That's not how it works? Well can't I just eat before I transform so I won't be hungry–I'm sorry I'm just new at this and I'm sorta trying to go vegetarian here–"

"Jack did you really have to pick the pansiest lilly in the fucking garden? Christ the stupid cunt won't even eat what he can get!" Dimitri, a southern english blond with a thick accent and the worst case of resting bitch face Josh had ever seen on a wolf, colorfully hissed at the alpha of the pack.

"I figured the guy would make a mean wolf. Fuck me sideways, I was wrong." Jack, their leader and the stockiest member of the group, grumbled as he glared daggers at Josh "Fucking smarty pants too good for meat?"

"Might make a good bitch." Yuri, Jack's second in command and a rather spineless idiot, offered with a barking laugh that made everyone else chortle while Josh blushed furiously and looked down.

"Ugh... You guys are assholes. I'm just gonna go for a walk." He got up and moved out of their den, an old abandoned cabin that had definitly seen better days. The stench of wolf didn't help.

"Good luck finding any food, Flower Boy, werewolves are carnivores. You gonna die for being a pussy." Jack called out behind him, getting a hearty laugh out of everyone else in the cabin.

Josh kept his back straight and his head held high, but if his tail had been showing and his ears were just a bit more wolfish, they'd have hung low in shame and sadness.

Not even a group of outcasts wanted anything to do with him. That certainly took the cake.

---

As it turned out, the others were right. As much as Josh wanted to be a vegetarian (a thought he'd had since primary school), the wolf couldn't properly process green foods. It was frustrating, because he didn't want to kill any animals. The thought of blood and gore made him shudder, even if the idea of salty iron tang made his stomach croak painfully with want. He was hungry. Very hungry.

"Think Josh... If vegetables and fruits aren't an option, then what else...?" He mumbled to himself as he walked. He needed to feed, otherwise the wolf would have a few things to say as soon as he got too hungry to keep in control.

His wolf was gentler than the others in the pack, but it was still a wild animal and hunger tended to do strange things to the mind. Especially one driven by the more primal instinct to survive.

He noticed a stream running downhill and got an idea. It wasn't a deer or a rabbit, but if bears could get nice and fat from eating fish, surely he could sustain himself on them as well? It was just a matter of catching some.

"Well, I don't have anything to lose from trying..." He figured, as he took off his clothing and folded it neatly. He set it by a rock near a massive tree, marking it with his sharpened fingernails before letting himself change into a huge dark coated wolf.

The feeling was still strange and painful, but his worries eased considerably as an animal. The world was a much simpler thing for a wolf.

With a hearty howl the wolf sprung towards the stream, hell-bent on catching some dinner.

---

"You know..." A female voice startled Josh as he pathetically crawled up onto the sandbank. A young woman was sitting there, holding a fishing cane and other assorted supplies. She had red hair, wore clothing that looked a bit too big on her, and a pair of heavy boots that looked to have steel toes. "When I saw you climbing out of the stream I was fishing in dirty, wet, and naked, I assumed you had just survived some kind of intense mob hit or something..."

Josh gulped as she set aside her tools and crossed her arms. She was smirking at him.

"But really you had just detransformed from a werewolf after you were playing in the water trying to catch a fish, and ultimately failing." Had she been watching him the entire time? "Nice ass, by the way..."

Yelping as he remembered he was completely in the nude, Josh picked up the nearest thing to cover up. It looked all the more pathetic considering the flat rounded rock was much too small to cover much.

"Easy there. It's not like I've never seen a dick before." The woman rolled her eyes "Now, before I go get my ma's shotgun, state your business here dog boy. You and your pack off to cause us trouble?"

"I... Uh no, no? I'm not..." He shook his head. "I'm not with my pack and uh, I didn't even know anyone lived here."

"We don't. The cabin is a summer retreat." The woman shrugged "What's a wolf doing trying to fish alone?"

"Could you not call me wolf? I have a name..."

"So do I. What a small world."

Josh grimaced before looking back where he came from. He should go get his clothes.

"I... Should get going."

"Hm... Yeah sure. Whatever. Try not to scare the fishes even more, you just cost me and my friends our dinner."

"You have friends?" That was hard to believe. The woman had been nothing short of unpleasant for the entirety of their short-lived and awkward conversation.

"Yes. One of them has a crossbow. Beat it pooch." She glared.

He didn't need to be told twice.

---

A couple of nights later, Josh had finally mastered his fishing abilities and was anxiously awaiting the rise of the full moon.

He hated going back to the den, but cuddling for warmth was the only way not to freeze to death in the woods, and it was risky to wander off too far without the pack. There were other wolves and worse, bears.

Not that his pack cared that he ran off anyway.

Still, as soon as the moon rose he could slink off to the stream and catch himself a good meal. He'd found a massive school of fish in a hole that lead to an underground pool. The fish either got stuck there by accident and couldn't leave due to low lighting, or were just too greedy when feeding on the vast surplus of food that the hole had to offer them.

All the better to keep him nice and full.

He had almost completely forgot about that woman from the other day, until he'd rushed off on all fours towards the stream and caught an odd sent in the wind.

The wolf grumbled in annoyance at the intrusion, but its curiosity was just as great as its human side's.

On feather light paws, it crouched and tracked the sent, before a whiff of grilled fish made its mouth water.

In the same spot Josh had met the woman, were three humans making dinner out of a bucket of large fat fish. It seemed like the redhead was a skilled fisherwoman.

"It's a loud night." A man with a shaved head, tan freckled skin and heterochromia, commented as he listened to the occasional howl in the distance. This trio was far away from the pack's hunting grounds, so there was no danger.

"Werewolves. I met one the other day..." The redhead murmured. "Took me longer to get a catch because the dumbass was flopping about like a drowning lamb."

"You met a werewolf? How come you didn't say anything, North?" A blond man with tired eyes and pale complexion asked.

"Didn't seem important at the time." North huffed "Besides, at the mention of my shotgun and your crossbow, he fled."

"You mean your mom's old shotgun. That thing is rusty as hell North. Wouldn't kill a fly..." The freckled man chuckled "But in all seriousness, Simon's right. You should have said something."

"Oh lay off Markus. It's fine! We're not staying much longer, just a couple of days anyway, and the wolves are far away."

The wolf watched them curiously. They were an odd trio. North, Simon and Markus.

Their names sounded... Nice somehow. And their interactions were all in good jest, rather than aggressive.

Whining softly, the large wolf lay down and kept watching them. It's heart ached for companionship it did not get from it's peers.

The blond's head perked up suddenly.

"Did you hear that?"

"Not everyone has your bat ears Simon..." North pointed out. "What's up?"

The blond didn't reply, instead staring off into the treeline where the wolf hid.

Had he heard it? That was impossible, humans didn't hear that well.

The man squinted, before getting up. His posture was intimidating to say the least, and the look in his eyes was one of warning.

Before anyone could say anything, or the wolf could process what was going on, the blond was right in front of it with his lips curled back so the wolf could see his long fangs. A vampire.

"Simon!" Markus called out, seeming just as startled at the wolf. "Don't do that!"

"We've got a wolf!" The blond called back.

"Is it big and got black mottled fur?" North asked from where she was sitting.

"Yes."

"Same guy from last time. Hey you caught any fish yet or just did a bad impression of the Little Mermaid?" The redhead grinned.

Simon rose an eyebrow in question before noticing the grimace on the wolf's face.

"I don't think it liked that."

"It can say that to my face. Come on, bring the thing over, if it didn't pounce us yet, it's not going to."

The vampire shrugged and looked back at the wolf, still suspicious, before motioning for it to get up and follow. The wolf decided it best not to argue, especially when the redhead offered a grilled fish.

It had been ages since it ate something cooked.

---

"So you really do run solo, don't you?" North asked in the morning, when the moonlight was no longer coursing through his veins, and after they'd all introduced themselves at the cabin.

The redhead hadn't been kidding about owning a shotgun. It was on display at the cabin, but it was also rusted to kingdom come. Markus had been right about it not harming a fly.

She used it as a threat to intruders. Uninvited guests were unwelcome, which was funny considering she had invited a vampire and a wolf into the threshold.

That was certainly some risk taking. Not that he was complaining.

The offered blankets had been so soft he'd practically rolled around in them when he woke up. The texture felt nice against his bare skin. It helped ignore the dull aches and sores of transformation.

"I prefer it." Josh replied. "It's calmer when I'm on my own. Quieter. Easier to get food and rest instead of getting pounced on and forced to submit to some asshole's command..."

Simon held the blanket he'd covered himself in tightly as he took a sip from a glass. The breakfast table was nicely organized, and he'd given them all plates of pancakes and glasses of orange juice. He himself ate nothing and drank a tinted glass that Josh's nose noted was full of pig's blood.

"Sounds rough." The blond commented as he shielded his sensitive skin from the sunlight creeping into the cabin.

"It is... Honestly though I hate my pack so much, like theyre a bunch of assholes but I ran into you guys on my full moon run in the forest and..." he shrugged "I don't know you seem pretty cool..."

"We seem cool? Bitch we're the coolest." North grinned.

"North..." Markus rolled his eyes. "Well... Uh, aren't werewolves social? Running solo seems very lonely for a wolf."

"It is but uh... I don't know, I was hoping I could sorta... You know." Josh stammered in embarrassment "Go hunting or scare some people or some shit? With you guys? I know this lake thats always really warm, I can show you... and uh, there's this hole in the stream that's full of big fat fish that just kinda hang in there? In case you uh, needed more?"

The three looked among each other debating what to do. They only had a couple of days left at the cabin and Josh would surely be lonely after they left.

North looked back at Josh before looking at Markus intently.

"... No." The heterochromatic man said flatly.

"Oh come on, we kept the vampire living in your attic, can't we keep this poor lonely lost puppy too?" North put on an exaggerated pout.

"I'm not a puppy. Also you were living in Markus's attic?" Josh asked Simon incredulously. That seemed a bit weird.

"Technically his dad's attic which technically is my attic because that mansion has been in my family for generations, but yeah sure let's go with that." Simon shrugged.

"A vampire doesn't shed or howl." Markus argued with North.

"I don't shed!" Josh was slightly offended.

"Come oooon. I can walk him, and feed him, and teach him cool tricks." North grinned.

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

"Your pack sucks and you're nice. You're getting adopted by the two most insufferable humans in this part of Michigan." Simon smiled "Don't worry. You'll get a bed, access to hot water and tv, as well as treats. They'll spoil you rotten."

"...Well I can't argue with that." Josh snorted. "I haven't showered in months and the smell of wet dog after I take a dip in the lake is pretty bad."

"Good choice." Simon laughed "Come on Markus, you always did say you wanted a pet."

"I was thinking along the lines of a canary or cockatoo..."

At the end of their trip to the cabin Markus relented, having grown very fond of Josh, and the werewolf collected what little belongings he had at the den before joining them at the cabin and sitting in the back of North's car with Simon.

The other wolves wouldn't miss him anyway, so he didn't bother to say goodbye. If anything he hoped he'd not hear from them ever again.

Thank god his wolf had a good eye for nice folk. North, Markus and Simon were weird, but they were his brand of weird.

He could get used to not living rough for once.

[army-author]

hoseok scenario | soulmates or strangers?

❝ You and Hoseok’s romance is a little different from what you had imagined when you fantasised about meeting your soulmate... but it can’t hurt to pretend sometimes, right? ❞

➵ paring: hoseok x reader

➵ author’s note: this is a short drabble for my fic ‘written on our veins’, which you don’t need to read to enjoy this, although it may help to clear some things up!

➵ requested by @coffeecupsmiles and anon | 4.2k words | fluff, soulmate au

Waking up beside Hoseok, with his scent infiltrating your senses, his warmth radiating under the covers, his arms curling around you, and his husky morning voice murmuring in your ear, “Just five minutes more,” to keep a hold on you a little longer is nice. It’s really nice. Toe-curling nice. Lips-smiling nice. Heart-fluttering nice.

And it makes you wonder how you could possibly have thought anyone but him could have been your soulmate - back when he was just another soulmate-less friend, who kept you company through the cold and lonely days before a name showed up on your wrist to let you know that your search was over. Back when you still believed you would just walk out the door one day, and bump into a stranger, fall in love instantly, and get that first kiss - the coveted first kiss that solidifies your feelings and makes the ink show up below the skin to identify your soulmate. Back when you still thought that romances happened exactly how they did on TV and in books. Back when you thought no one would ever love you.

Yet here you are. A lot of mistakes later, with Hoseok still by your side, but with a name on his wrist, binding him to you now. Perfect. Even when you finally manage to peek one eye open to the harsh morning sunlight and peer over to see him with his cheek crushed against the pillow by your side, his face and neck lined by the points of the mattress where he’s been lying funny, sleep in his eyes and his hair a flaming bird’s nest. Still perfect.

You can’t help but smile.

Until he opens his eyes, and you pull your face into a pout, because you can’t let him see how mushy he’s made you at eight in the morning, you won’t give him a lure to tease you right away, turning your cheeks pink when he crows, “Baaaaby! You are so cute, getting all soft and shy after all this time!”, so you keep your feelings down (for now), and when Hoseok leans over, duvet rustling, to place a soft kiss on your temple, and you give a disgruntled “Mmmm”, before pushing him away, laughing, “Ugh, morning breath… Go wash your teeth, and then maybe I’ll think about it.”

Hoseok gives a grin, as he sits up with an “Alright fine!” before he stands, turning back after a few paces with a playful spark in his eye. You already know you’ve made a mistake, before he takes the duvet in one hand, and yanks it off the bed, exposing your naked body to the harsh cold, shocking your heart into overdrive after the comfortable warmth of a night shared together.

“Hoseok!” you call after him as he wanders towards the bathroom, wrapping the duvet around him like a cape. He pauses at the doorway and looks back with a smirk on his face, as if to say “This is what you get for the teasing,” before he closes the door, and leaves you to stand up and fumble around your bedroom for some clothes to protect you from the cold. Jerk! What a jerk! You find a clean pair of jeans. What a jerk! You stick one leg in at a time, punctuating as you jump around to wriggle into the waistline. What. A. Jerk.

He comes out of the bathroom again, toothbrush dangling from his mouth, scratching the sleep from his eyes, your name stark and black on the skin by his wrist, and manages half a smile past all the toothpaste.

What a cute jerk.

He holds up a corner of the duvet, and you scurry over to burrow under again, winding your arms around him, turning you into a strange two-headed blanket monster.

You stand still for a moment, soaking up each other’s warmth, until you feel Hoseok tense beside you. Past a mouthful of foamy toothpaste he mumbles, “What day is it today?”

You furrow your brows. “Saturday.”

“No, what date.”

“It’s the tenth,” you tell him, before he wriggles out from under the duvet, and runs back to the bathroom to drop his toothbrush, before catapulting back into the bedroom:

“Then it’s almost the fourteenth. And we haven’t even thought about what to do.”

“The fourteenth? Why is the fourteenth important?” you ask.

Hoseok stops dead in his tracks from ricocheting around the room, searching out his clothes. “Valentine’s day. The fourteenth of February is Valentine’s day.”

“Don’t you mean: singles’ appreciation day?” You respond naturally, and then your brain finally clicks to catch up with Hoseok’s. “Oh.” You’re not single now.

You’ve spent so long trying to forget the date, pushing it out of your brain, until, every year it rolls around, as dates tend to do without fail, and you’re greeted with chilling February snow and no one to share it with, having your loneliness smack you in the gut.

But this Valentine’s won’t be like that. Because Hoseok is with you now.

“Our first Valentine’s day together,” you say.

“What? So all the other Valentine’s days I spent by your side, mopping your tears while you cried over being single don’t count?” Hoseok puffs up his cheeks in mock hurt, while you throw him a scathing look:

“You know what I mean. Our first Valentine’s knowing we’re soulmates.”

Hoseok’s gaze softens at this, eyes crinkling at the corners as a smile breaks free. “Yeah, as soulmates.”

He’s so sweet you can’t even pretend to be annoyed with him.

“So what do you want to do to celebrate?” he asks, as he goes back to scouring through the drawers for a shirt.

You chew on your cheek, giving yourself time to think.

How do you want Valentine’s day to be, now that you finally have a soulmate? You try to think back to all the daydreams you had about this day before Hoseok’s name showed up on your wrist – all the times when, despite trying to convince yourself that you didn’t mind Valentine’s day and what it stood for, you had often, in moments of weakness, imagined how it would go down – bumping into your soulmate on the street on Valentine’s day, feeling an instant spark, going for coffee, hitting things off, and ending with a kiss, when your names would reveal themselves on each other’s wrists. Your fantasies had never gone past the ‘finding your soulmate’ stage. You didn’t really know what you wanted past that.

And now that Hoseok’s here, you don’t know what you want from him either. There’s nothing more he can give you on Valentine’s day besides all you already have, every single day, shared with smiles and tears and hugs and curses.

Except… maybe one thing…

“This is going to sound dumb…” you begin.

“I’m up for dumb, if it’s with you,” Hoseok smiles, as he finally picks out a shirt.

“I mean really dumb…”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “And you and I spent the whole of the Christmas holidays pretending to be each other’s soulmates to fool our friends… only to find out we actually were each other’s soulmates the whole time – trust me, I know all about dumb!”

“Okay...” you sigh, “When I imaged meeting my soulmate, it wasn’t like how it was with you at all – no offense, I just mean I imagined it being a lot less... um...  complicated. Like, I’d meet them and we’d instantly know we were each other’s soulmates, and he’d ask for a date, and we’d be shy around each other because it was all new and exciting, but we’d get past the blushing and the awkwardness, and work up the courage to kiss, and - ta-dah! - our names would show up on each other’s wrists. Now, I know this is stupid, but I’m kind of sad I never got that with you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked you from the start. But at first I thought it was just in a friends kind of way… I wish we hand’t missed out on on the cute first date, awkward, ‘should we hold each other’s hands yet?’ stage.”

“So… what do you want me to do about it?” Hoseok asks, brows furrowing.

“I want a first date,” you announce.

Hoseok’s lips part as this processes in his brain. At last he says, “Sorry to break this to you, but we’ve already been on multiple dates.”

You roll your eyes. “I know… but we’re so comfortable with each other, we take theses dates for granted, and I don’t know… I guess I just want to make an effort for once. Like, we should try to impress each other like we would on a first date.”

“You mean you don’t like all the movies and pizza?” Hoseok’s eyes go wide.

You shrug. “They’re nice. But I want that exciting, going-out-with-a-stranger type of date. The kind of date we never had, because we’re already best friends, and there’s no need to impress each other.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes playfully. “If you want that, why not just go on a date with a stranger?”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” you go over to him, winding arms around his torso, “I want a date with you! I just want something a little different, that’s all.”

Against you, you feel Hoseok’s check rising in a chuckle. “Alright. I’ll make it exciting for you. We can be strangers for the day, and I’ll do my best to impress you. So be ready to be swept off your feet.”

Before you can stop him, he’s pulling you up off the floor, lifting you up into a bridal style hold, while you giggle and he peppers your checks with kisses.

♡♡♡

When you wake up on February 14th you’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting, but the cold side of the bed, minus Hoseok, wasn’t a part of the plan.

You sit up, rubbing at the sleep in your eyes, and shivering when you suddenly feel the frost from the lack of soulmate by your side.

It’s only been a little under two months since you and Hoseok started living together, but you’re already so used to waking up beside him. It’s not a nice feeling, lacking him. You give a ‘huff’ as you sit up and pad out of the room.

“Hoseok?” you call down the landing, your voice sounding painfully loud against your eardrums, just roused to the waking world again. It’s too early and too cold for this.

There’s no answer. You call a second time, louder, thumping down the stairs to the hall. But you get a feeling in the pit of your stomach that the house is empty. Where is he?

Is this some stunt because you said you wanted a second ‘first date’? Or has he just forgotten what day today is, and gone off to do whatever he wants by himself? You already know that’s unlikely, yet you find yourself worrying none-the-less. But this is Hoseok. Who, even before you discovered you were soulmates, made sure to never miss a birthday or friendship anniversary because that’s just the type of person he is. So what’s going on?

As you walk through to the kitchen, the tiles of the floor cool on your bare feet, you spot a note on the table. At least he wasn’t rude enough to leave without an explanation. You pick it up, blinking your eyes, with eyelashes still clogged from the dreams fighting you back to bed. Still you manage to focus enough to read what your soulmate has written:

‘Happy Valentine’s Day! Since you wanted to have a do-over of our first date, to image what it would be like if we’d had the kind of first meeting that we’d expected, I figured you might as well wake up the way you would if this was our first date. I mean, we wouldn’t be sharing a bed if we had’t even met yet, right? Does it feel wired? Maybe I’m taking it a bit too far, but I want this day to be fun for us both, so… today, we’re going to meet again – I mean for the first time – discover that we’re soulmates, and go on a ‘first’ date. I’ll give you the full experience we missed out on, and we’ll have a first meeting like they do in the movies!’

You can’t help but smile at all the dopey hearts and smiley faces Hoseok has doodled around the note, it couldn’t be written by him without them. Of course he would take it too far, all to make you happy – and you hadn’t even meant him to take it seriously. Well, maybe a little. But not like this. You worry your lip with your teeth. What is he planning? How do you prepare?

Well, the first thing to do would be to at least to get changed out of your pyjamas, and put on some make-up. If you’re going to meet your soulmate ‘for the first time’, then you at least need to look good. First impressions matter with soulmates.

With that thought, you run back upstairs to get ready. As you work on your eyeliner you feel a shiver of worry. Is this really okay? Playing out a fantasy ‘first meeting’ with Hoseok, all because your romance didn’t turn out the way you expected? What if you prefer it this way, living in an imagined love, rather than loving the real relationship you have with him? No. It’s not like that. It’s just for fun. To catch up on what you missed out on.

But you know that when you settled down with Hoseok, his name emblazoned across your wrist, you were giving up all the other options of romance, and choosing to live with your best friend. Because that’s what you wanted. That is what you want.

So it’s all okay.

Okay?

♡♡♡

You walk into town with your eyes instinctively searching for the red hair of your soulmate, your heart rising in your throat as you wonder what he could have in store for you. How far is he willing to take this? All for the sake of a dream you should have given up on a long time ago - a dream where you look up, and your eyes lock on a perfect stranger’s and you just know!

You look up and are met with a familiar pair of eyes, just across the street, turning to crescents when he catches you. You cross over to him, “There you are!” then bite down on your greeting, remembering that this is meant to be different from how you normally are with Hoseok, a continuation of what you dreamed. A fantasy for Valentine’s day.

“Were you expecting me, stranger?” Hoseok’s lips quirk at the end, already knowing it’s a lie you’re both in on, but still not being able to keep a straight face when he can’t say the truth.

You feel yourself embarrassed by the whole affair all of a sudden, you hadn’t meant for Hoseok to take it so seriously, for you to take it so seriously yourself, and yet you can’t roll your eyes at him, like you normally would and ask him to stop being so cheesy, so instead, you only say, “I feel like I’ve met you somewhere before,” playing along.

“Really?” Hoseok wrinkles his brow, “That’s funny, because I think I’ve met you somewhere as well… maybe in my dreams?”

If you weren’t going along with him right now, you would have pinched him for being so sappy. But something holds you back, with a blush fanning across your face. You keep your voice steady as you say, “Could it be fate?”

Hoseok gives  a small smile, almost breaking back to what you know, like he’s going to shatter the moment, go back to what you are. But that never comes. Instead, he answers, “I had a feeling I would meet my soulmate today... Cheesy, right? But maybe I could get you coffee, just to see if we can figure out why destiny brought us together?” He extends a hand to you, and you smile, slipping your fingers between his  – all at once familiar, but foreign. His touch feels a little colder, unsure, his fingers don’t wind so tight around you own. All a part of the act. But you want the old touch back.

He leads you down the streets, passing all your old haunts when you go out on real dates with him, on those rare occasions you actually get enough time off work. You can’t help but slow your steps at every café you come to, expecting Hoseok to lead you in there, but he passes every one. You’re approaching the end of the street, but Hoseok keeps walking.

“Hoseok… um… I mean… stranger?”

Hoseok looks back to you, lips quirking as you stumble over what to call him, and you fight back an urge to kiss that stupid look off his face like you normally would, because two people who just met wouldn’t kiss each other like that.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“You’ll see.”

At last Hoseok turns down one of the side streets, leading to one of the fancy cafes you and your soulmate have always talked about visiting, but never got around to. Your steps slow as you walk closer, not quite sure what to expect, but Hoseok’s hand in your own pulls you on, and you can’t resist. You duck past the hanging baskets of flowers that partly screen the archway leading to the red bricks of the alleyway, where the café you had always wondered about, but never explored, stands. The stairs that lead up off the street to the elevated café are scattered with the leaves fallen from the flower baskets, and as you climb up them, you catch a glimpse of you and Hoseok in the glass window of the café and can’t help but bite on an escaping smile – the two of you really do look like an awkward new couple, still trying to figure out if you’re actually soulmates. It feels alien leaving so much - too much - space between the two of you, compared to the zero space left when you normally walk, with your arms draped around him, while his hand finds it’s home in your back pocket, like all the couples you had rolled your eyes at before Hoseok’s name appeared on your wrist. You pause when you realise what you are with Hoseok, what you’ve become, the sickeningly sweet couple – now turned make-believe strangers.

Hoseok holds open the door for you – at least that hasn’t changed from when you normally go on dates – and you step into the smell of freshly-baked cakes and even fresher coffee. Now you remember why you were always too scared to come into this café; it’s far too expensive for everyday dates. You eye the expertly crafted cupcakes with roses carved from buttercream crowning their tops, and stacks of macaroons, piled up in pastel pyramids of sugar. You don’t want to look at the prices.

“Are you trying to trick me into thinking you’re a millionaire by bringing me here, stranger?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at Hoseok.

He looks down to you, with his tongue flickering across his lips as he smirks, “How do you know I’m not a millionaire?”

You can’t help but scoff, knowing the small house the two of you share, same as always, with the minimal money you get for your office job. But you know you’re not meant to know, so you say, “Sure,” and throw in a wink for good measure.

The wink was a bad idea. Winking is difficult. You wrinkle your nose as you try to figure out how you should be working your two eyes, and Hoseok starts laughing and you start laughing, and the barista behind the counter looks very confused as the two of you walk up to order, sniggering between yourselves.

“What can I get you?” she asks, returning to professionalism, as you bite back on a giggle, and turn your eyes to the baked sweets behind the glass cases. “Well,” you whisper to Hoseok, “If you’re a millionaire, you won’t mind if I get the most expensive item?”

His eyes widen in concern. “You wouldn’t,” he mouths back, but you’re already asking the barista for a slice of Sachertorte and a pistachio latte, feeling Hoseok shooting your daggers from his narrowed eyes. You shoot him a smile back as the barista repeats your order for you and then asks Hoseok what he wants.

You make your way to your table with your over priced coffee and cake, steps bouncy, with Hoseok lagging behind you, making a big deal of putting his wallet away, a lot emptier than it was before.

“Stranger, you shouldn’t look so sad to be treating me,” you say, as Hoseok sits down, and with a chuckle he shoots back:

“And you shouldn’t be teasing someone you just met. Pretty rude, if you ask me. It’s no wonder that you don’t have a soulmate yet!”

“Oh yeah?” you say, before realising you don’t have much to comeback with, since you do already have a soulmate, and it’s him (so is he insulting himself or you?) and suddenly trail off, sitting back and taking a forkful of Sachertorte to keep your mouth busy.

Even when you’re pretending with Hoseok, you can’t help but go back to the friendly teasing, leaking over from your friendship, your hardships, and the love you have that means you know that no matter what you say, Hoseok understands that it means nothing, because your affection crushes all else. You need to try harder with this whole pretending thing, actually try to act like you with Hoseok is a new and exciting concept, rather than warm and familiar. After all, that’s what you want, isn’t it? New and exciting, with your soulmate found in a stranger, not found in an old friend, with one thousand of your own doubts shadowing your mind, delaying the name from forming on your skin, keeping your beginnings messy before you got your happily ever after. Because that’s never how you dreamed it in your head, every Valentine’s day before his name showed up, when you’d take the short walk over to his house, with unshed tears burning behind closed lashes, telling him - and yourself - that you didn’t mind not having a soulmate. And he’d take you in his arms, push your hair back off your face, and murmur in your ear, “It’s okay, he’ll show up someday,” and then he’d lead you inside for a movie marathon, all of them avoiding the topic of romance so you could squish down the idea. But even so, sometimes it would leak through – the splendour of falling in love with a complete stranger, But looking back on those moments now, you see you weren’t destined to fall in love with a stranger after all, because even back then, you’d been falling in love with Hoseok all along.

“Hoseok, let’s stop this,” you say, setting down your coffee, which despite the ridiculous price, doesn’t actually taste all that good.

“Stop what?” He looks up to you, licking buttercream off his lips.

“This,” you gesture at the space between you, the space that was normally filled by Hoseok, so much closer to you, hands entwined and bodies warmed next to each other, “I decided I don’t want to be on a date with a stranger. I want to be on a date with Hoseok.”

His smile breaks through, “What about all those dreams of meeting your soulmate as a stranger on the street and just knowing?”

“Well,” you bite your lip, “This is super cheesy…”

“Go on?”

“But I think with you, maybe I did know all along. All the time we were friends, something below the surface was stirring, and maybe that’s why it hurt so much not having my soulmate. Because I was so close to having you… and yet so far from understanding my own feelings.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got it figured out now,” he leans across the table, his lips pressing their shape to your forehead.

“I’m glad too,” you smile, and realise you mean it completely. You don’t want any other kind of love story, because no matter what kind of romances you read about or see on TV, they’ll never compare to what you have with Hoseok.

“Well,” Hoseok leans back in his chair again, “What do you say we pick up on an old Valentine’s tradition and get these cakes to go so that we can go home and watch some movies.”

You grin, “Only if we can watch ‘The Shining’.”

“No, please! No horror movies!”

“But I want an excuse to cuddle with you, Hoseok.”

“You don’t need an excuse anymore. We’re soulmates!”

author’s note: it was nice to revist the characters from this fic, I love them so much! :’) I hope you enjoyed it too!

[centerofstupidity]

Fifty Shades of Grey Chapter 2 Snark

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Next E.L. James Book Snark: Fifty Shades Darker (Fifty Shades of Grey # 2).

Chapter Summary: Christian Grey tracks Ana down at her job. Of course, this isn't depicted as being creepy. And Ana's subconscious talks to her.

The chapter starts with Ana’s heart pounding. And since Ana is a mega klutz, she stumbles out the elevator door.

Then, Ana runs out of the building like her ass was on fire.

It’s raining outside and thank God that she doesn’t complain. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

No man has ever affected me the way Christian Grey has, and I cannot fathom why.

You are Bella Swan and he is Edward Cullen. Get that through your thick skull.

Is it his looks? His civility? Wealth? Power? I don’t understand my irrational reaction.

Attracted to his looks? Hell yes! 

Attracted to his civility? The day that Christian isn’t a douche is the day when demons will be ice-skating in Hell.

And let’s be honest: Both Ana and Bella think that douchebags are sexy. 

Attracted to his wealth? Yes!

Like Bella, Ana is only attracted to a rich guy and non-wealthy guys are annoying and icky. 

Ana being turned on by Christian’s “power” is the equivalent of Bella being turned on by Edward’s creepy behavior. 

Ana needs to lean against a “steel” pillar to stop her from swooning.

I valiantly attempt to calm down and gather my thoughts.

Nothing screams “strong female protagonist” like being a damsel in a Victorian melodrama.

Ana makes a point about how her “heart steadies to its regular rhythm” and how she gets in her car only when she can breathe normally.

Ana is leaving the city limits and she is feeling foolish and embarrassed about the interview.

Surely I’m overreacting to something that’s imaginary.

What does she think is imaginary? Is it the interview or Christian being sexually attracted to her?

Okay, so he’s very attractive, confident, commanding, at ease with himself—but on the flip side, he’s arrogant, and for all his impeccable manners, he’s autocratic and cold.

If a handsome guy is a douchebag, any woman with common sense and self-respect would ignore his good looks and hate his guts because they can’t forget his douchebaggery.

And we all know that Ana does not have any common sense and self-respect.

Well, on the surface.

“Bad romance novels have taught me that a handsome and controlling douchebag becomes a nice guy once he falls in love a shy and beautiful virgin.”

An involuntary shiver runs down my spine.

“I love it when a guy is an asshole!”

And yes, you ARE welcome to that image.

He may be arrogant, but then he has a right to be—he’s accomplished so much at such a young age.

Ana, just because someone is successful, it doesn’t give them the right to be a douchebag.

He doesn’t suffer fools gladly, but why should he?

Oh, Ana… If that were the case, then he wouldn’t be smitten with you.

Again, I’m irritated that Kate didn’t give me a brief biography.

I’ll let this gif speak for itself.

While cruising toward Interstate 5, my mind continues to wander.

Ana, you need to have a brain before it can wander. And besides…

I’m truly perplexed as to what makes someone so driven to succeed.

For someone that is supposed to be the smartest person in the world, Ana is such a blockhead.

People are driven to succeed because they want to better themselves, they want to climb up the social ladder or they have a dream that they want to come true.

Some of his answers were so cryptic—as if he had a hidden agenda.

Or maybe he doesn’t want to divulge his entire life story to a blithering moron.

But since this was once a Twilight fanfic and Ana is Bella Swan, of course, Christian is going to have some secrets.

Since Ana is such a good friend, she proceeds to bitch and moan about Kate and having to do the interview.

She even says “ugh!”

The adoption and asking him if he was gay! I shudder.

Did Ana seriously act as if being adopted and the idea of someone being gay as something repulsive?

Ground, swallow me up now!

Unfortunately, this doesn’t happen.  

Ana whines that “Every time I think of that question in the future, I will cringe with embarrassment.”

Damn Katherine Kavanagh!

Ana checks the speedometer and she is driving more cautiously than normal.

And I pity any person who has to share the road with such a reckless driver.

And I know it’s the memory of those penetrating gray eyes gazing at me and a stern voice telling me to drive carefully.

Fun WTF Fact: In the movie New Moon, Bella hallucinates seeing Edward while in the book Bella hallucinates hearing his voice.

Shaking my head, I realize that Grey’s more like a man twice his age.

It is because, in another story, he is a sparklepire.

Ana tells herself to forget the interview even though “it’s been a very interesting experience.”

Put it behind you. I never have to see him again.

Christian Grey is going to track Ana down and buy kinky kidnapping equipment at her job.

Of course, this is not going to be depicted as creepy.

Instead, the reader is supposed to swooning over Christian’s hotness.

Ana is now happy after convincing herself that she will never see Christian Cullen again.

She turns on the radio and turns the volume up loud. The music is “thumping indie rock”.

But since this is Twilight minus the sparklepires and cuddlewolves, Ana is listening to Muse.

Ana is driving fast and describes where she lives.

Ana talks about how “I pay peanuts for rent” and she has been living in the apartment with Kate for four years.

Ana whines about how Kate wants “a blow-by-blow account” and how her friend is “tenacious”.

I hope I won’t have to elaborate much beyond what was said during the interview.

“Talking to someone that isn’t a Sue sucks!”

Kate’s reputation as a school journalist is riding on the interview… But Ana is making everything all about her.

Fuck you, Ana.

Kate is sitting in “our living area”. E.L. James, in the U.S., we would call it a family room or a living room.

Kate is studying for finals.

She’s still in her pink flannel pajamas decorated with cute little rabbits, the ones she reserves for the aftermath of breaking up with boyfriends, for assorted illnesses, and for general moody depression.

It is painfully obvious that we are supposed to see Kate as a whore. 

Ana makes a pointed comment that Kate only wears cute pajamas when she is “breaking up with boyfriends, for assorted illnesses, and for general moody depression.”

In the Twilight Saga, respectable women look frumpy and they must be forced to wear nice clothes. Only harlots dress nicely.

And in the same shitty series, if a character has premarital sex and is sexually attracted to people, they are a nasty slut that should be branded with a scarlet “s”. 

Fun WTF Fact: Kate was Rosalie Hale in Master of the Universe. 

It explains why Ana hates Kate so much. 

Kate hugs her. She thanks Ana for doing the interview and starts asking questions.

Oh no—here we go, the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition

Fuck you, Ana. I wish someone would put her on the rack and give it several turns.

So Ana acts like Kate’s questions are so difficult and whines that she doesn’t know what to say. She finally comes up with an answer.

Ana tells Kate that she is glad that the interview is over and that she will never see Christian again.

Somewhere the Volturi said the word bullshit and then faked coughing. Ana also says that he is “really young.”

The fact that Ana kept remaking about Christian being “young” is odd considering the fact that he is only six years older than her.

Ana complains that Kate looked at her “innocently”.

“Don’t you look so innocent. Why didn’t you give me a biography? He made me feel like such an idiot for skimping on basic research.”

So far, Ana has only bitched and moaned about helping her friend and acted like a martyr.

And now she has is giving her friend shit. Isn’t Ana a great friend?

Kate apologizes to Ana even though she hasn’t done anything wrong. Ana huffs at the apology.

“Mostly he was courteous, formal, slightly stuffy—like he’s old before his time. He doesn’t talk like a man of twenty-something.”

“It is because he is a one-hundred-year-old vampire.”

Yes, Christian was formal. But Christian didn’t speak like he was from olden times. It wasn’t as if he said “salutations” or “I will see you anon.”

Ana asks how old Christian is and Kate says that he is twenty-seven. Kate apologizes for not briefing Ana and she will start transcribing the interview.

They start making small talk. Eventually, Ana leaves so she can go to work at a hardware store.

Ana has worked at the store for over four years and she is crap at anything DIY. Ana does her shift and then returns home.

Kate is typing furiously on her laptop. Ana whines that she is “exhausted”.

Ana kvetches that she needs to study for finals. Kate tells Ana that she did a great job and how it is obvious that Christian wanted to spend time with her.

Ana blushes and her heart is aflutter.

That wasn’t the reason, surely.

This sentence is obnoxious because we all know that Christian is Ana’s one tru luv and they are going to spend the rest of their lives having non-sparkly adventures.

He just wanted to show me around so I could see that he was lord of all he surveyed.

Uh, no. Christian wanted to rape her.

In the unreadable Midnight Sun ripoff, Christian has a sudden urge to drag Ana out of her chair, spank her, and then fuck her on the desk with her hands tied behind her back.

Ana is bitting her lip like Kristen Stewart in the Twilight movie. Kate asks if Ana took any notes and Ana says no.

Kate says that’s fine and remarks about how Christian is a “Good-looking son of a bitch”.

Ana tries to say that she is not interested.

“Oh, come on, Ana—even you can’t be immune to his looks.” She arches a perfect eyebrow at me.

I get, E.L. James. You want me to think Kate is a bitch and a nasty slut. 

I’m supposed to interpret “even you can’t be immune to his looks” as Kate being catty. 

What’s worse is that I’m expected to LIKE and feeling sorry for poor wittle Ana for having to deal with the evil blonde.

But the only person who is a bitch is Ana. 

Ana has complained (very loudly I might add) about doing her “friend” a favor and acts like a martyr.

And then to add a cherry on top of the shit sundae, Ana starts making all these catty comments.

So far, every time Kate is either mentioned or appears in the story, E.L. James goes out of her way to paint Kate as a terrible person.

I’m starting to think that maybe Kate is based on someone that E.L. James despises in real life…

Ana is blushing because she thinks Christian is so hawt.  

I distract her with flattery, always a good ploy.

Ana says that Kate would have done a better job. But Kate tells Ana that she did a great job and Christian “practically offered you a job”.

Ana decides that she is done with this conversation and makes a “hasty retreat” to the kitchen. Kate asks Ana what she really thinks of Christian.

Ana whines that Kate is “inquisitive” and “why can’t she just let this go?”

“He’s very driven, controlling, arrogant—scary, but very charismatic. I can understand the fascination,” I add truthfully, hoping this will shut her up once and for all.

You know what… Everytime that Ana acts like a bitch, I’ll let this gif speak for itself…

“You, fascinated by a man? That’s a first,” she snorts.

“He isn’t a man! He is a Gary Stu!”

Ana starts to make a sandwich and asks why Kate wanted to know if Christian was gay.

“Whenever he’s in the society pages, he never has a date.”

Do society pages exist anymore? It seems more likely that Christian would be talked about in a celebrity magazine/celebrity gossip T.V. show or in the tabloids.

Ana complains that the question and the whole interview as “embarrassing”. She claims that she is happy that she will never see Christian again.

Kate says that it couldn’t be that bad as Christian is smitten with her.

Taken with me? Now Kate’s being ridiculous.

For the first time, I actually agree with Ana. She has the personality of roadkill.

They make sandwiches and don’t talk about Christian for the rest of the evening. Kate is working on the article and while Ana is working on an essay about Tess of the d’Urbervilles.

Damn, that woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong century.

Is E.L. James seriously saying that Tess of the d’Urbervilles is a story about tru luv and seduction?

Ana finishes her essay at midnight and then goes to bed.

That night I dream of dark places, bleak, cold white floors, and gray eyes.

Let’s marvel at E.L. James’ clever and subtle symbolism.

Nothing special happens for the rest of the week.

Kate is studying for her finals and working on her last edition of the student newspaper.

And Ana is also studying for her finals and working at her job. Ana is glad that she doesn’t have to “endure the sight” of Kate’s pink bunny PJs.

And we have tedious descriptions.

Ana is talking to her mom who lives in Georgia to Georgia to “check on her”. But Ana claims that she called so mom can wish her luck on the final exams.

It turns out that Carla (Ana’s mom) has “the attention span of a goldfish” and has a husband who is “keeping an eye on her.”

Translation: she’s Renée Dwyer (Bella’s mom)

Ana’s mom asks how is she doing and Ana says she is fine.  

“Ana? Have you met someone?” Wow … how does she do that?

Because she is Renée Dwyer and you are Bella Swan.  

Carla is excited at the idea of Ana having a boyfriend. Ana tells her mom that she doesn’t have a boyfriend.

Ana quickly changes the subject and says "distraction is the best policy.”

Later on, Ana talks to her stepdad and “Mom’s Husband Number Two”.

Ana says that she considers him to be her father and she has his surname. So Ana’s stepdad Ray is not a “talker”, watches sports on TV, and goes “fly-fishing”. That doesn’t sound familiar…

Ray is a skilled carpenter and the reason I know the difference between a hawk and a handsaw.

Leave Shakespeare out of this, E.L. James. He is a talented playwright and has influenced the English language.

Your only claim to fame is writing a Twilight fanfic, changing a few things, and making a shit load of money when it was published.

In case anyone is wondering, the words “a hawk from a handsaw” comes from Hamlet.

“I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I Know a hawk from a handsaw” (Hamlet, Act II, scene ii).

On Friday night, Ana and Kate want to have some fun. Jacob Black José Rodriguez shows up and is holding a bottle of champagne.

José is the first person Ana met at college and they have “been friends ever since."

Not only do we share a sense of humor,

Like Bella, Ana thinks she has Wildean wit.

So Ray and José Senior are best friends and "were in the same army unit together."

José is majoring in engineering but he has a passion for photography. Ana, Kate, and José start talking.

José reveals that the Portland Place Gallery is going to exhibit his photos next month.

“That’s amazing—congratulations!” Delighted for him, I hug him again.

They decide to celebrate.  José wants Ana and Kate to go to the opening.

José and I are good friends, but I know deep down inside he’d like to be more.

"I’m like the prettiest girl in the world! All men adore me!”

He’s cute and funny, but he’s just not for me.

“I only like guys who are douchebags and treat me like crap!”

Ana says that José is “like the brother I never had.” I seriously hope that Ana doesn’t string him along.

It was bad enough when Bella was stringing guys along…

Katherine often teases me that I’m missing the need-a-boyfriend gene, but the truth is I just haven’t met anyone who … well, whom I’m attracted to, even though part of me longs for the fabled trembling knees, heart-in-my-mouth, butterflies-in-my-belly moments.

“I want Prince Charming to ride on a white horse and sweep me off my feet!”

Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me.

Ana, there is something VERY wrong with you.

Perhaps I’ve spent too long in the company of my literary romantic heroes, and consequently, my ideals and expectations are far too high.

Ana having unrealistic expectations about relationships? Shocking!

Ana meets a handsome and rich guy. The guy is a total douche.

But she felt an instant electric connection, so that means it is tru luv! 

Yet she rejects a handsome and funny guy who treats her nicely. 

But in reality, nobody’s ever made me feel like that.

Oh shit! Ana’s subconscious is whispering to Ana.

Ana thinks about Christian and the interview. She is quick to “banish” the thought and does not want to be “going there."

Ana "wince[s] at the memory” of asking if Christian is gay.

I know I’ve dreamed about him most nights since then, but that’s just to purge the awful experience from my system, surely.

Nope. You want Christian to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane.

Ana watches José open the champagne bottle.

He’s tall, and in his jeans and T-shirt, he’s all shoulders and muscles, tanned skin, dark hair, and burning dark eyes. Yes, José’s pretty hot, but I think he’s finally getting the message: we’re just friends.

For “just friends”, Ana just talked about how hot José is. 

Does anyone seriously believe that José only sees Ana as a friend?

And I really hate it when a character’s physical description reads like a grocery list. 

I like subtle character description that is sprinkled throughout the entire story.

Ana remarks how the cork made a “loud pop” and José smiled at her.  It is now Saturday and Ana is working at her job.

She whines that it is a “nightmare” and the store “besieged by do-it-yourselfers."

Ana is checking the catalog numbers with the items that the store needs and has ordered. Then Christian shows up.

Ana swoons at the "bold gray gaze” of Christian Grey who is staring at her.

Heart failure.

Ana is dead!

* Looks through the rest of chapter two. *

Dammit! Ana is still alive!

Christian refers to Ana as “Miss Steele” and how meeting her is “a pleasant surprise."

Ana thinks to herself "holy crap.”

What the hell is he doing here, looking all outdoorsy with his tousled hair and in his cream chunky-knit sweater, jeans, and walking boots?

If a guy who I only met once showed up at my job and proceeded to make small talk, I wouldn’t be admiring his clothing and swooning over his “tousled hair.”

After he left the building, I would call the cops and file a restraining order. Because this guy has “stalker” written all over him.

I think my mouth has popped open, and I can’t locate my brain or my voice.

Ana, you don’t have a brain. There is no point in trying to look for something that doesn’t exist.

And your voice? It is located near to your icy black heart, you bitch.

Ana whispers his name and Christian smirks “as if he’s enjoying some private joke.”

Christian claims that he was in the area but he is so full of shit.

His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel … or something.

Just wow… Clearly, this is the best metaphor ever written in the history of the English language.

I shake my head to gather my wits.

Ana, you need to have wits before you can gather them.

Her heart is pounding “at a frantic tempo” and she is blushing.

My memories of him did not do him justice. He’s not merely good-looking—he’s the epitome of male beauty, breathtaking, and he’s here.

It was really annoying when S. Meyer kept describing Edward as being a sparkling and perfect Adonis…

Now it is obnoxious that E.L. James keeps blithering on about Christian being a studmuffin and how he is God’s gift to womankind.

Ana can’t believe that the sexiest man in the universe is at her job. Her “cognitive functions are restored” and it is “reconnected with the rest of my body.”

Ana says that her name is Ana and asks how she can help him. Christian finds this to be amusing and tells her that he needs some things.

He wants some cable ties and Ana offers to show him where they are located. Of course, she is all hot and bothered.

Ana talks about how Christian frowning “mars” his “lovely” eyebrow. Ana is so smitten with Christian that she tries not to fall over her own feet.

Ana muses (for what it seems like the billionth time) that Christian is handsome. She notices that he has long fingers and he has a “beautifully” manicured hand.

Ana wonders why Christian is in Portland and why is he at the store.

And from a very tiny, underused part of my brain—probably located at the base of my medulla oblongata near where my subconscious dwells—comes the thought: He’s here to see you.

Ana dismisses the idea as “preposterous” because “why would this beautiful, powerful, urbane man want to see me?"

Ana asks if Christian is in Portland on business and he says he is "visiting the WSU farming division.”

See? Not here to find you at all, my subconscious sneers at me, loud, proud, and pouty.

Ana hearing a voice inside her head?

Christian selects a pair of cable ties and Ana wonders what he is going to do with them. Christian also wants some masking tape.

She asks if he is redecorating. He says no and then smirks. Ana is convinced that he is “laughing at me.”

Am I that funny? Funny looking?

Shut up, you stupid cow. Stop trying to get pity points.

Ana walks Christian to the decorating aisle where the masking tape is located. Christian asks her how long she has worked at the store.

She blushes “brightly.”

Why the hell does he have this effect on me?

You are Bella Swan and he is Edward Cullen. Get a clue.

And he is your designated one tru luv. 

I feel like I’m fourteen years old—gauche, as always, and out of place.

You are STILL gauche.

Stop trying to make everyone feel sorry for you.

She says that she has worked at the store for four years.

She is so flustered that she has to distract herself by selecting two masking tapes with different widths.

He chooses the one with the wider width.

Our fingers brush very briefly, and the current is there again, zapping through me like I’ve touched an exposed wire.

It was bad enough when Ana and Christian felt an instant electric spark in chapter 1 and how it must be a sign of tru luv.

But they are feeling it again for the SECOND time?

I gasp involuntarily as I feel it all the way down to somewhere dark and unexplored, deep in my belly.

For a book that was supposed to be the hottest and the most scandalous erotic novel since The Lustful Turk was published…

It uses the unerotic description of “all the way down to somewhere dark and unexplored.”

Ana tries to find her “equilibrium.” Ana asks if Christian wants anything else and she is horny.

Christian wants some rope. Ana blushes for the thousandth time. She asks what type of rope Christian wants and his eyes are “darkening.”

Ana avoids looking at Christian and cuts the five yards of rope.

And since Ana is a mega klutz like Bella, she remarks that “By some miracle, I manage not to remove a finger with my knife.”

Christian asks if she was ever a Girl Scout. Ana swoons over his “sculptured, sensual lips.”

Ana replies that group activities are not her thing to which he asks her “What is your thing, Anastasia?”

Try to be cool, Ana, my tortured subconscious begs on bended knee.

Ana whispers “Books.”

But inside, my subconscious is screaming: You! You are my thing!

Ana dismisses the idea because there is no way he would want a girl like her.

Christian asks her “what kind of books?"  

Like Bella, she gets prickly when Edward Christian asks her questions. Ana likes the classics and British literature.

This isn’t surprising since she is a Bella Swan knock-off.

Ana asks if Christian needs anything else. She remarks how Christian’s fingers on his face are "beguiling”.

He asks her “What else would you recommend?”

Ana blushes and her gaze "strays to his snug jeans.” She replies “coveralls” and Christian is amused.

Ana says that he wouldn’t want to ruin his clothes.

“I could always take them off.” He smirks.

If he takes his pants off, he will be naked. Somebody fetch Ana some smelling salts and a fainting couch!

Ana says that she must be “the color of The Communist Manifesto."

I try to dismiss the unwelcome image of him without jeans.

Everyone knows that Ana wants to ride his disco stick.

She asks if Christian needs anything else and he ignores the question. Instead, he asks how the article is coming along.

Ana is glad that he asked her "an easy question.”

I grasp it tightly with two hands as if it were a life raft, and I go for honesty.

She replies that Kate is the editor and writer of the newspaper.

Ana also says that Kate was “devastated” that she couldn’t do the interview and doesn’t have any original photographs of him.

He asks what type of photographs does Kate want. At first, Ana doesn’t know but then asks him if he would be willing to do a photo shoot.

Christian agrees and gives her his cell phone number. He is then quick to say that she “needs to call before ten.”

Ana thinks to herself that Kate is going to be “thrilled.” But let’s be honest, Ana is happier than a pig in shit.

Paul, Ana’s friend shows up. Paul and Ana make small talk. Paul drapes an arm over Ana’s shoulder.

Ana notices that Christian is “watching us like a hawk.”

Christian is pissed. Ana introduces Paul to Christian. Once Paul finds out that Christian is the Christian Grey, he is starstruck.

Grey gives a polite smile but he is still miffed. Paul says goodbye and goes into the stockroom.

Ana asks if Christian wants anything else and he says no. Christian is still pissed off. Ana wonders what she did to upset him.

I ring up the rope, coveralls, masking tape, and cable ties.

Ana is supposed to be so smart but warning bells are not going off in her head.

A guy that she only met once shows up at her job and then he buys a kidnapping kit.

But Ana can’t stop thinking about how Christian is so sexy. Ana’s heart is all aflutter when he says her name.

She talks about how “his tongue caresses my name.” Christian says to call him if she wants him to do the photo shoot.

Christian says goodbye and says that he is glad that Kate couldn’t do the interview.

After Christian leaves, Ana says that his hotness has made her “a quivering mass of raging female hormones.”

And Ana finally (although reluctantly) admits that she finds Christian to be “attractive, very attractive."

She has only spent the first two chapters describing how handsome he is. Even his eyebrows are sexy.

But it’s a lost cause, I know, and I sigh with bittersweet regret. It was just a coincidence, his coming here.

In Chapter 1, Ana says that Christian Grey is a very busy man and that his time is precious.

But Christian took time out of his day to drive three hours out of the way to see her.

Ana plans to admire Christian from afar. The chapter ends with Ana calling Kate so they can organize the photo shoot.