Warning:

If Christian Grey is your dream guy, if you think that Ana is a strong and smart woman, if you believe that their relationship is the stuff epic romances are made of: this story is not for you. Contrary to what people may think, my purpose is not to antagonise or troll fans. I simply like writing snarky FSoG stories and sharing them with people who like to read snarky FSoG stories. Therefore, I want my stories to be read by people who are likely to enjoy them. So, if you are a Christian/Ana/FSoG fan? You are hereby warned. You will probably not like this.

Explanation:

Several commenters on my previous FSoG stories have expressed that they are either baffled or offended that someone who is not a fan of FSoG is writing FSoG fanfiction.

To those who are offended: I will continue to write what I like to write, regardless of your outrage. And, no, I will not post my stories on another site. Just because it's called 'fanfiction' doesn't mean that I have to be a fan to write a story about something. This is just as much my site as it is your site. I feel sorry for you if the mere existence of someone who is not a fan of FSoG writing about FSoG is somehow affecting your life or your enjoyment of other FSoG stories.

Also, yeah, despite disliking the books, I know a lot about FSoG. It's called 'doing research' a.k.a. 'looking up stuff online.' I do it for all of my stories.

Writing FSoG fanfiction as a non-fan has not adversely affected me, by the way. My mental health is fine. Your concern is touching, though!

To those who are baffled: Let's start at the beginning. Why did I read the books? If I don't like them, I simply shouldn't read them, right? This is such a weird argument to me, because how am I supposed to know that I don't like the books when I haven't read them?

So, I read the FSoG books and I didn't like them. I think the books are extremely badly written. I think Ana and Christian's relationship is abusive. I think that Christian is arrogant and manipulative. I think that Ana is snotty and stupid. Yet, I'm writing FSoG fanfiction. Why?

First of all, I like to write fanfiction. Canon can be fun, but it's limited. I like to write about things I would have liked to have seen happen in canon. That is why Christian almost always dies in my stories. It's my way of 'fixing' FSoG. (Note that it is strictly my opinion that the books need 'fixing' and that having Christian die is a way of 'fixing' them).

Secondly, the majority of people who read FSoG fanfiction may be fans, but there are also plenty of people who (like me) didn't exactly love the books and are looking for some snark. For my and their enjoyment, I provide them with that snark.

Thirdly, I am amazed by your bafflement. I write 'Beware: I'm not a FSoG fan' in the summary of all my FSoG stories. Therefore, before reading the story, you already know that I am not a fan. You also know that you should 'beware,' which to any functioning literate would read like a warning that I will, at the very least, be critical of a work of fiction and/or fictional characters that you like.

See, when I picked up FSoG, I expected an erotic love story, because that's how the book is marketed. What I got instead was a crappily written depiction of two insufferable idiots in an abusive relationship. You, on the other hand, knew what to expect when you clicked on my story. It's very hard for me to take you seriously when you then proceed to complain in a review that I should not be writing FSoG fanfiction because I'm not a fan. You were informed beforehand and you chose to read my story anyway. You only have yourself to blame for your disappointment.

If you still feel the need to flame: feel free. Seriously, go ahead. Flame away. I neither mind nor care.

Bleed

Chapter 1: Breathe

'Aren't those a little tight?' Ana asked, eyeing Christian's ass.

'You noticed,' he said, smirking.

'Hard not to. I'd like it if you picked another pair. Something less revealing. You're not going out dressed like that,' Ana decreed. Christian stared at her with open mouth.

'Don't be ridiculous,' he finally protested.

'Am I being ridiculous? Were you being ridiculous yesterday when you told me I couldn't wear my new skirt if I planned to go out?' Ana asked. Coldly, Christian studied her.

'Are you defying me?' he softly warned. Ana rolled her eyes.

'I'm asking you a question,' she said.

'It sounds like you're defying me.'

'It sounds like you're refusing to answer the question. Don't try to turn this into one of our sex games. I'm not in the mood for punishment,' Ana snapped. Christian looked confused. Sighing, Ana got to her feet and approached him.

'Look… My body is yours, right?' Ana asked. Christian nodded. He attempted to pull her closer, but Ana resisted.

'But your body is not mine?' she clarified, sounding annoyed. Christian hesitated before replying.

'You're my submissive; I'm your master. It's different,' he explained. Ana frowned and pushed him away.

'I am your submissive,' she agreed. 'During sex. You own my body in the bedroom. The rest of the time I'm just your girlfriend, though, and it's not cute when you treat me as property. I was okay with that when I was under the impression that you were mine too. I'm yours and you're mine is endearing. I'm yours and you're not mine is far less endearing.'

'I don't… Are we fighting? What do you want?' he requested, seemingly bewildered.

'I want to be able to wear what I want to wear without you objecting to my clothing choices,' Ana stated. She felt strange saying this. On the other hand, she was really tired of having to seek Christian's approval for everything. Relationships weren't supposed to be like this, were they? Unless it worked both ways and it clearly didn't. Double standards weren't sexy.

'When you go out in a revealing outfit, men gawk at you,' Christian argued.

'Women gawk at you all the time too. What's your point?' Ana countered. Christian raked his hand through his hair, appearing more agitated by the second.

'Those women don't matter, because you're the only one for me.'

'As you are for me,' Ana replied. 'I don't care about other men, so who cares if they stare?'

That wasn't entirely honest. Ana cared. She didn't like it when people stared at her. It made her feel self-conscious. However, that was not why Christian was against her wearing short skirts. Thus, it was irrelevant at the moment.

'But I would never do anything with another woman. Other women don't interest me,' Christian asserted.

'That's exactly how I feel about other men. Any other arguments?' Ana inquired. Christian was silent while he racked his brains. Suddenly, his face darkened.

'They could force themselves on you,' he whispered, sounding tortured.

'Yes, they could try. Taylor would break them in half, but they could certainly try,' Ana pleasantly conceded. She did not attempt to explain to Christian how objectionable she found his casual assumption that there was a direct link between wearing revealing clothes and becoming the target of a sexual assault. That was a different conversation for another time.

'I don't understand why you insist on making me jealous,' Christian exclaimed, looking frustrated.

'There's nothing to be jealous about! I barely speak to other men,' Ana sharply retorted. Far be it from her to suggest that Doctor Flynn wasn't doing his job, but – come on! - Dr. Flynn obviously wasn't doing his job. Had therapy managed to do anything for Christian except provide him with excuses for his behaviour? In the time Ana had spent with Christian, she had seen little to no improvement or progress. He was still insanely jealous. As if to prove her point, Christian spoke up.

'I can't help it if I'm jealous,' he claimed while he glared at her. That is just… bullshit, Ana thought, surprising herself. She narrowed her eyes.

'But I can dress differently, is that what you're trying to say? You better not be suggesting that it's my responsibility to rid you of your irrational fears. You can't seriously expect me to change because of your issues,' Ana pointed out. Well, he could, but that would mean that he was crazy. And Christian was not crazy, was he? Fucked up: yes. Crazy: surely not.

'It's a small thing to ask you to wear appropriate attire,' Christian told her.

'First of all, yes, you're right. It's a small thing to ask. However, you're always asking me tiny favours and all of them together do amount to a radical lifestyle and personality alteration. Secondly, who decides what's appropriate? Let me guess: you?'

'I'm afraid that you'll leave me,' Christian explained. His face was contorted as if in pain.

'I see. And that will somehow be prevented if I wear long skirts? I have to tell you: it's starting to feel less like you're horribly insecure, which has nothing to do with me, and more like you assume that I'm a harlot who will just sleep with anyone who makes a pass at me, which also has nothing to do with me. You don't trust me at all, do you?'

Instead of answering her, Christian took out the unhappy childhood card.

'My mother…' he began. Not this again, Ana thought. It was a reprehensible thought. Completely unlike her. Yet, there it was. It wasn't that she minded listening to Christian talk about his childhood. It was that she found his interpretation of events increasingly problematic. Yes, his childhood had been traumatic. By all accounts, though, his mother had done the best she could. She had not left him; she had died. She was not to blame for his abandonment issues. Furthermore, smothering people was the quickest way to scare them away. You'd think that Doctor Flynn would have taught Christian that at some point.

'I'm not your mother. I'm me. And I wish you'd stop treating me like a problem that needs solving. Why won't you give me the space I need to breathe? Why won't you just let me be me?' Ana pleaded, interrupting Christian's lamenting. Speechless, he looked at her.

'Either you change into another pair of pants right now or you never get to tell me what to wear ever again,' she concluded. Without waiting to see how Christian would react, Ana went in search of a snack. That felt good, she realised on her way to the kitchen. To speak her mind. To stand up for herself. Being assertive still felt a little unreal, but it also felt amazing. Time would tell whether this was a victory, but it was at the very least a step in the right direction.