#'rest your brain' i say and then proceed to write a bunch in the tags

[hollyhomburg]

Sweet like Honey (Break like Glass) (KTH)

Summary: Taehyung knows there’s something wrong with his girlfriend; the way she can’t look at herself in the mirror sometimes or the countless other bad days. He makes it his mission to make her feel as beautiful as possible.

Tags: mentions of body dysmorphia, Self-esteem issues, Dysphoria, internalized self-hate, picnic dates, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, barely referenced eating disorder, angst over Taehyung being an idol, mentions of weddings, proposals, and wedding dresses, mentions of nudity and sexual scenes/themes. 

A/n: This was mostly inspired by Taehyung in his green suit and my own experiences with my body. This is a relatively short and less descriptive than my usual au’s. don’t forget to comment and RB if you liked it! also my grammarly kinda crashed while writing this! so i apologize for more grammatical errors that usual. 

Song rec: Electric love~ Pravi cover

W/c: 6.7k 

- There is something wrong with Taehyung's girlfriend. With you- and Taehyung just can’t figure out what it is. 

- Taehyung and you have been dating for a few years, though it was a little on and off in the beginning because of a few world tours. Now you live together, and every day Taehyung lives the fantasy of coming home to someone who loves him. You standing in his kitchen with Yeontan running around your feet begging for little bits of food. 

- But The small things are always there; the way you look at yourself in the mirror with a hint of hate. The way you are always so particular about how clothing fits you and won't wear anything that properly shows off your curves. 

- Sometimes you barely react when Taehyung puts his arms around your waist, bunching up his extra-large shirt that you sleep in. Taehyung loves the feeling of getting his hands on you, his palms so wide on your form. You have The kind of soft cuteness that makes him want to take you and hold you close and never let go. Sometimes in the mornings- he actually does pull you back into bed with him.

- But Sometimes, when Taehyung puts his hands on your waist you do freeze, he feels the way your body is taut and stiff like you’re trying to suck in or something. But when he looks at your face- he doesn't see any of the strain or anything else unpleasant or unhappy in your smiling face.

- Taehyung wishes you felt as comfortable with him as he feels with you.

- Tae would say that you’re both completely happy. Would say it- if he didn’t notice your insecurity sometimes. More than once He sees you excitedly set out an outfit on the bed. Getting dressed for something a little more interesting than sitting on your couch, only to see your expression fall the second that you see yourself in the mirror. 

- Whatever's going on in your head- it hurts you, hurts that you don’t see yourself in the mirror the way that he does. other days you know before you get dressed, You’ll avoid looking at yourself in the mirror and instead ask him if you look okay. 

- “Just turn around and see for yourself” he says- unthinking. More worried about getting to your destination on time. This time it’s a dinner with the rest of bts, a private room in a restaurant to celebrate the end of their last comeback. You aren’t going to be the only s/o or guest in attendance and you just wanted to make a good impression. 

- Taehyung is more excited for a few days of break that will proceed the dinner than the dinner itself. Days that he will probably spend catching up on the sleep that he’s lost over the past few weeks and spending quality time with you. He realizes a moment too late when he looks back at you. A hand suspiciously rubbing at your cheek, a little damp. That dark- unhappy look fitting your face like a glove. 

- You put a very baggy jacket over your dress and call it a day. During dinner you bunch it up in your lap like it will help cover you and say that your legs are just cold when Taehyung asks. But he isn’t fooled- though he was, a little, at the beginning of your relationship.

- When Taehyung first meets you he barely thinks that there’s something off about the way you view yourself. That revelation comes later once he gets to know you better. Taehyung dreams of a time when he’d known from the beginning, if only so that he could have started helping you with your body image sooner. 

- When you and Taehyung first met you were both a little broken, both a little too lonely for words. Your type of loneliness that was left for rotten nights, the kind where you bunch up a blanket or a pillow just to have something to hold onto. 

- When Taehyung first bumps into you at a bookstore You don’t outwardly look like the insecure type. Your cute glasses on your nose and your ankle length knit dress chic and oversized. You’d sat on opposites sides of a very long velvet couch to enjoy a coffee and a book in Taehyung’s favorite bookstore. A hair too close at your separate tables to be completely accidental. 

- You look at the handsome stranger, (or at least you think he’s handsome- most of him is covered by a facemask) thinking that just maybe There was only one reason why he didn’t take the table by the window; that reason being a desire to be close to you. “Is that one any good?” you’d asked, voice rough and quiet in the empty cafe. 

- When Tae looks over it’s to see your legs have been pulled up and underneath you- your shoes off and hidden under the table. Your stocking legs bare for him to look at and drink in. It feels too intimate for a stranger, but all at once in a moment, Taehyung daydreams of what your legs might feel like in his hands. And a little stirring in his gut says ‘oh- you like this- you like this one.” 

- “The coffee or the book?” he asks, perplexed and trying not to lose his cool. all the stadiums in the world couldn’t unnerve him and yet- one pretty girl in a coffee shop has him worried, holding on to his coffee and book like it will anchor him. You smile like his response is some sort of secret. “Either is fine.”

- Running into each other at the bookstore turned into sitting close on one of the many velvet couches. Which turned into Tae inviting you to a different coffee shop with better coffee and fewer books so you could openly talk without fear of getting scolded. 

- This leads to dinner dates and kisses and your back against his sheets in his apartments. Looking up at him like he’s still trying to tell you some sort of secret. You’re a secret that Taehyung just can’t figure out but wants too. And Tae has a feeling he could spend years getting to know you and still want you just as much as he did then- as he does now. Hovering on the edge of a relationship with you. 

- What had started out as coffee dates, turned into hooking up and then when his life got busy again- late night booty calls where he was barely awake enough to properly reciprocate. Those nights ending when you woke up to his empty bed and a text on your phone thanking you for coming over so late. It’s kind, but it’s so formal you read between the lines. Assuming deep down- that Taehyung doesn't want any more than a late night booty call and an occasional friendship from you.

- Taehyung had just assumed you wouldn’t want a relationship with him if it had to be this way, every six months or so when he gets so busy he can barely find time to take a proper break let alone go on a date. You’d assumed he just didn’t want a relationship with you but you where already desperately in love with him and unwilling to let go of the little bit you had of his time. Even if you knew it was a little toxic. 

- He still remembers looks back on that night often. Just after the comeback-  he’d been strung out on that restless energy he often gets after they’ve finished. another cycle of their career. All keyed up with nowhere for his energy to go. It had been late into the night and nearly morning when you’d finished enjoying each others company. Taehyung leaning back against the pillows, so deeply stated that he felt the ache in his bones. Eyes already fluttering closed he’d reached out to touch you, only to find you not there already pulling up your pants by the door. 

- And Tae’s serotonin and oxytocin high brain hadn’t been able to look past much more than your jiggling ass for a moment before he realized that fuck- you’re not staying. “What are you doing?” he’d asked, a little scathed, and you turned around like you were trying not to get your hopes up.

- “Going home to sleep? like i usually do?” Taehyung feels the stinging in his chest like a wound. Dreams of sleeping with his arm thrown over your waist, holding you close and trying to fit you into the lonely space in his chest- extinguished in a violent moment. (Tae had a feeling you’d fit there perfectly- and now to have you snatched out of reach feels like disappointment) “aren’t you just going to sleep here?”  

-“Nah im kinda hungry” you lie. He shrugs not getting it “I could always make you breakfast in the morning,” his words are interrupted by a yawn, “or now?” 

- “You don’t need too” “but what if I want to” all at once you’re frustrated. “Tae- what are we doing here?” you throw your jacked down with an upset humf, “we both know you’re not going to date a girl like me so why- why are you making this harder than you need too-”  

- “hold on-hold on” he jumps out of bed, suddenly so awake that his heart is pounding. “who the fuck told you that i don’t want to date you?” Your hand hovers on the doorknob an inch away from your relationship being nothing, and Taehyung is brazen and unshy, nearly proving your point when he just gets out of bed all of himself on display. At least he has the good grace to pull on a pair of boxer shorts. “you mean? you do?” 

- “Of course i want to date you!” he’s an inch away, and his large hands just barely brushes yours “you like all the same things as me, i love talking about books with you and cuddling with you and having you here when i get home- things have just been so busy lately- i didn’t want to make it feel rushed. but i do- i do want you to be mine unless you don’t want-”

- You’d hated how unsure he looked in that moment. Most of the time- you’re so unsure yourself that you forget how it must look to Taehyung. But in that moment you can see your own expression on his face, and you hate it there just as much as he hates it when it’s on your face. 

- That night had ended with you soft in Taehyung's clothing, smelling like him. talking it through with him until the sun actually had come up. “I guess I just got so caught up in giving you what you wanted because I thought that was all I could get.”

- He touches you so delicately, his fingers stroking down the line of your throat as you talk so that he can feel the words in his fingertips as you say them. “tell me how I can be better- please, I want to be a good-” taehyung swallows against the hope in his throat. “I want to be a good boyfriend for you.” 

- Your more giving nature didn’t stop there, and you were always determined to give taehyung more than you took in your relationship. Like your very presence in his life was enough of a gift in itself. But it’s something that Taehyung has always been able to see through. In the same way that you feel like you’re not enough for him. The same way he feels that he can’t give you everything you want or need. Like a date out in public or Anonymity if you were ever to take your relationship public.

- You’ve been mobbed more than once just because you came out of the same apartment complex he lived in. And even though no one knows you’re dating Tae besides those who know you personally, Taehyung fears that one day you’re going to want something he can’t give you.

- Like others he’d dated in the past. The girls (and one boy) who had all told him after a few months “either go public or we’re through” or gotten tired of not being able to partake in the same things all their friends did, like getting walked home or going out for dinner on a Thursday without making an expensive reservation. You were never like that.

- At the beginning, you’d just smiled when Tae had told you he couldn’t be seen with you out in public. You’d just given him a soft but understanding smile and volunteered your apartment as long as he brought his most comfortable pajamas to stay the night incase he got too drunk to drive home.

- Those nights, you’d often ended up drunk on the floor of your bedroom and Taehyung remembers looking down at you from above, his hand unintentionally wound in your hair. Somehow you’d ended up in his pajamas and he didn’t mind at all.  

- “You know- I can’t give you a lot” it had taken Tae a long time to open up to you after his last break up, but then he’d felt the dizzying smoothness of your skin against his- more intoxicating that the alcohol. You’d giggled up at him, equally as drunk. “Just give me you, Tae, and that will be enough.”

- it was around then that Taehyung had made a promise to himself. He may not be able to give you everything a boyfriend should be able to give you. but he’d give you himself fully, and anything else he could give without endangering his career.

- Sometimes you can’t believe that you’re dating an idol- let alone someone as genuinely beautiful as Taehyung. Sure- knows one knows you’re dating him. But only someone who didn’t know your relationship would think he was just a status symbol or something. You don’t need to show each other off to know your love is real.

- Though you do partake in couple items fairly often- Taehyung has a certain love for things expensive. And he does like to spoil you in the small ways- accessories are the best for you- Taehyung knows they don’t trigger your body dysmorphia in the same way clothes do. He still has the first couple item you ever got- a beat-up scarf in coordinating colors, the edge of yours torn- hanging over the doorway that leads to your walk in closet. The fabric too worn to wear out normally.

- Early on- he’d fucked up and gotten you a skirt that was a size to small. He’d tried to help you into it, and helped you try and zip it up. But after a moment when it was clear the zipper wasn’t going to go over your hips (one of Taehyung’s favorite parts of you and the whole reason why he’d bought you the skirt)

- You’d slapped his hand away, and Taehyung had looked up- miffed for a moment but knowing he’d fucked up when he saw your eyes fill with tears. He’d apologized again and again, And you were careful to make sure he knew it wasn’t his fault but the skirt had ended up thrown to the back of the closet and shoved in a bag meant for donations.

 - Now Taehyung knows Some days your body genuinely doesn’t bother you, but others you live a much more dire reality that you try to hide from Tae. he also knows that you don’t like talking about it. He might enjoy telling you the minute details of just exactly why Namjoon pissed him off today during practice and hashing it out again later when his temper has dissipated. But you don’t like to talk about your insecurities in so many words. 

- Sometimes the words hover on the edge of his tongue because he should tell you that It genuinely doesn’t bother him when you flip flop between needing to spend hours of your time on your makeup and being okay with your face as it is. And if hours are what you need to feel okay then fuck- Taehyung will learn everything about how you like to do your hair. 

- The other days when you change 5 times before it becomes clear that it’s not the clothes That's making you feel so distressed. your side of the closet torn apart. When you can’t meet Tae’s eyes when it feels like nothing fits you anymore. More than once you’ve decided that you don’t really want to leave the apartment if the only thing you feel comfortable in is a pair of his sweatpants and a baggy tee-shirt. Tae only wants to make sure you get what you need. You don’t need to hide your bad days from Tae.

- but Taehyung hates those unhappy days when there's not more that he can do than let you hide your body underneath the baggiest blanket possible on your couch. Calling to cancel your plans, and then join you there. You tell him he should go hang out with your friends without you but if you don’t go with him- there’s really no point. 

- He knows it's just a little unhealthy- but he’d miss you the whole time and want to text you through all of it. And your friends would end up annoyed that Tae was on his cellphone. Better to spend the night here, even if you flinch when he touches you later that night. 

- And really- he doesn’t mind at all, all of that stuff, it only makes him worried about you. The person he loves more than anything. And he tries to help you through the little things. Complimenting you whenever he can (and do it while being genuine so they don’t feel hollow to you) and feeding you from his own chopsticks at dinnertime. Gently gripping your chin in his hand and murmuring “it’s my job to keep you healthy.” 

- for what it’s worth when Taehyung does have more free time than usual- he keeps track. More than once he’s had to worry and wonder if you’re actually eating anything when he’s not around. He looks for the evidence of a lie on your face and in the kitchen to see if it takes the form of untouched or spoiled food. gone before you could convince yourself to eat it.

-  And even though he can’t find any evidence of this- the threat still lingers on the edge of his mind. He’s had his experience with unhealthy behaviors and he knows the starting signs.  

- But it comes to a head one night when he sees you looking through a bunch of catalogs. You might struggle to find things that you feel comfortable in on your worst days but you do like to help Taehyung shop. It’s a game that you play. Competing to see which one of you can find the weirdest outfit or the strangest prints. Though you win more often then he does. Leaning over your computer to laugh and say “okay- but actually, it’s terrible and I want it and I don’t know why.” 

- For as hard as your relationship can be- there are also countless moments of happiness, more than taehyung could ever properly appreciate. but god if he’s not going to try to treasure this love he has with you. The kind of love that's sweet like honey regardless of the broken glass mixed in. 

- It’s one of your lazy day activities. Both of you sit on the couch under a fluffy duvet with matching glasses of wine. A drama playing in the back round. His hand alternating between hovering on your knee and reaching for his wine glass.  

- Tae gets wrapped up in looking at a strange line of weird art neveauy Dress shirts and when he looks over he sees to his surprise- that you’re looking at dresses. These dresses are the long kind- the kinds that are white and flowy with beaded sleeves or shear mermaid designs, most in blush and cream tones.  

- You notice him looking and quickly tilt your screen- but it’s too late he’s already asking to see. You’re shy but eventually, tae wrestles it away from you with a kiss and a chuckle- you complain that he almost made you spill wine on the couch. His eyes widen more as he clicks through your tabs of which there are eight. And he commits the name of the designer to memory Because these...these are almost like wedding dresses and you’ve never expressed much interest in Dresses like these. 

- As if the drama you’re watching seems to fortel this conversation; this episode is the wedding episode. taehyung watches you as he checks through the tabs and you watch the bride and groom with a far away look in your eyes. As the characters go through the antics of losing their rings and the evil stepmother spilling wine onto the bride's white dress.

- When you do speak, it’s so soft that Taehyung has to lean in to hear it. your secret whispered into open air. “Sometimes it’s easy to think- that I’ll never get married. Get to wear a dress like that. It’s not that I don’t think you love me,” you’re quick to reassure him. his stricken expression melting away as his words die in his throat. “-or that you wouldn’t- won’t ever propose. And this isn’t me trying to guilt trip you into it either but-” 

-Taehyung rubs a reassuring stroke down your arm. Your eyes locked on the dress on the screen, eyes so hungry and wanting but sad too like you know it’s futile to want something so simple. It’s so ordinary to taehyung but to you it feels unreachable. “Dresses like that- princess dresses and wedding dresses- are things that other girls get. Girls that have the perfect body and the perfect hair- the perfect everything. Things that I don’t see when i look in the mirror.”

- Taehyung is soft when he touches you, guiding you to set your wine and your computer away, closing the screen too so that the picture of the dress goes away too. Leading you to sit across his lap. Touching your face gently like you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever graced his fingertips. 

- “That’s what they get and i-” you rest a hand on your chest and for a moment- Taehyung can see how much it just aches. Whatever hole has been left in your heart by your trauma, Tae feels it as keenly as you do. “I get to feel like this all the time.” 

- Feelings of powerlessness fill him up. He wishes he could make you feel as beautiful as he views you- but he knows that the words of another only do so much. But he can’t say nothing He feels so tongue tied. he’s so painfully aware that he might say something that just makes you feel worse. he swallows through the lump in his throat. “I know this won’t make it any better, but I think you’re beautiful, and you deserve the world- and all the pretty dresses you want.” 

- He bites his lower lip, mindful of not making promises he Doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep. He’d propose to you right now if he thought it would magically make you feel better but he doubts that would fix the issue. Your self-esteem issues run deeper than that. through wounds that are older than your relationship and too deep for Taehyung to heal with a few words.  He touches your face softly “let me try- to make you feel as beautiful as you are to me” his kisses get hotter and you return them “let me try” he promises. 

- That night you make love on your couch and for that moment of ecstasy you let yourself believe you’re worth the touch of Kim Taehyung. That alone is something that’s hard for you to believe every day. And you try to compensate for the ways that you feel lacking sometimes in the worst ways. he still doesn't like to think of the beginning of your relationship for that reason. 

- but Something about that day with the wedding dresses weighs on him though, bothers him in a way he just can’t articulate. And it’s not until he confesses to Jungkook about what happened and how he feels strangely futile about the whole thing, that Jungkook gives him the simplest answer. 

- “If she wants to feel beautiful in a wedding dress hyung, why don’t you just buy her the dress?” Taehyung starts to try and backtrack but Jungkook shakes his head. “I didn’t say marry her- just dress her up like you are and take her out on a date- make sure she knows beforehand. But there’s no reason why you can’t make her feel like a princess.” 

- So Taehyung does just that- picks out a dress not unlike one of the ones that you mentioned you liked. Layers of lace and delicate tulle, perfect for you. Yes it’s from a wedding line but it is more of a light dust pink. A dainty and dreamy color perfect for the day that he aims to create. He double and triple checks your measurements because the dress is made to fit and he doesn’t want to repeat the skirt experience. 

- Your actual date is a picnic set out on a thick knit blanket on a hill overlooking the ocean. He gets the picnic basket made for you by a restaurant. Delicate pastries filled with sweet meats, freshly cut figs and sweet berries and fruits. More than you could logically both eat in a sitting but sue him- Taehyung likes going a little overboard. All paired with your favorite bottle of wine. Wildflowers and delicate blooms too- all set out on the blanket. 

- He Gets you booked for a private appointment at a hair stylist and makeup artists and surprises you. Tells you to keep your Saturday open for him, you level him with a look over dinner. “What are you planning kim Taehyung?” he smiles into his glass. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see princess?” you raise your eyebrow at the unintended and unusual term of endearment and let it slide as he pales at the unintended slip up. 

- At first you’re a little skeptical- this isn’t the first surprise date he’s planned (and it probably won’t be the last). So you humor him with a small smile when he sits you down in the stylist’s chair late Saturday. You face away from the mirror, the stylists under orders to keep your look hidden from you until they’re done. 

- before you start, He puts his hand on the back of your chair and leans in to press a quick kiss to your forehead “are you okay here while I go and get things ready?” the stylists buzz around you spoiling you with mimosas and fruit too, making sure you’re comfortable before they start. Tae really did bring out all the stops for this. 

- You are okay with this, or at least you think you are until you finish with your hair and makeup- you can feel it, the layer of the expensive products on your skin and the faint burning in your hair as they set your hair in delicate fairy like curls, small pins with little flowers that you see out of the corner of your eyes, you see the swatch of red on the lip brush when they paint your mouth- and it starts to feel like too much when they lead you to a changing room- and you see the dress hanging on the hook. 

- “She won’t come out Mr. Kim.” one of the assistants informs him when Taehyung comes back to get you. Everything is set up, the weather is perfect, the flowers in the field blooming when Taehyung stopped by to make sure that everything was all set out. Jungkook is in place too- ready to be your private photographer.

- That’s the little surprise- since Taehyung hopes you won't see him if he manages to hide well in the bushes and snap photos while you have lunch and lounge in the grass. Jungkook promised to leave if it looks like things where about to get steamy. And thinking about the dress- Taehyung can't say that’s not a possibility. 

- There is something incredibly alluring about the idea, hiking up your delicate skirt. The way it might just look if Taehyung had you pull the thin straps down. Getting you out of it just enough to slip close to your warmth. you could even rollplay it- Taehyung some night who had no business touching someone as beautiful and you; a princess so sweet and ethereal hidden in some forgotten stretch of palace garden.  Like something out of the stories you used to both read when you were just inches away in a coffee shop. 

- But right now all he wants to do is make sure you’re okay as he barely calls your name before he rushes through the satin curtain in to see you. Sitting on the velvet poof in nothing more than a silk robe, leaning your head on your hand as you look at the dress with more than a little apprehension. 

- He’s polished himself up since he saw you- his dark green suit the perfect color swatch against the dusty pink of the dress. you turn to see him and tae- oh Tae is in love with the way that they’ve outlined your lips like two petals of a perfect rose. The faint sparkle that dusts your cheeks. Taehyung’s whole body thrums as he looks at you. 

- “Taehyung” even the way you say his name is a question, “why did you get me all dressed up like this?” 

- Taehyung lets out a deep shaking breath, taking your hands in his, “im not proposing to you today,” is the first thing he says, and he can tell the words shock you a little- that can’t have been a thought far from your mind. But he presses on before he can get too nervous to continue. 

- “But the other day- when you talked about never getting to feel pretty- like a princess. I wanted to give you that. Even if we never get married- or at least can’t for a while- you deserve to feel as beautiful as a bride on her wedding day every day and I guess-“ he stumbles forward over the edge of a carpet and you catch him a little. His large fingers tumbling through your small ones. tangling and untangling. “I guess I just wanted to be your groom for a day too.” 

- “So you thought you’d take me out on a date and get me all dolled up for what?” Taehyung can tell you got the idea of what he’s going for now, a small smile tugging at your lips and Taehyung feels like he’s won a prize. He nudges your shoulder with his; leaning close like it’s a secret, “I even have a picnic basket.”

- You giggle at his wink and Tae directs you to the dress. But you kick him out. The stylists give him a look, shuffling around with their things and cleaning up. But he holds up his hands. “Apparently I’m not supposed to see her until the grad reveal” they nod- like this is some sort of unspoken rule but sue him- Taehyung wants to see you look pretty in the dress he picked out. 

- Taehyung thinks he’s prepared to see you in the not-wedding- wedding dress- but he’s not. You knock the breath out of him. The shade of your lipstick the same tone as your dress just more saturated. It fists you better than Taehyung dreamed it would. And truly- you look like a princess at a ball- or at the very least a fairy. 

- Taehyung holds out his hand, The picture of a gentleman. You still look unsure, but you take his hand anyway. You stop when you see yourself in the mirror. Unable to believe that really you look this different in makeup, but the makeup artists really are talented. You look ethereal. The blush on your cheeks just enough to feel like a natural flush. Your lashes long and pillowy and thick, your lips bitten looking and buttery red pink. 

- You walk up to the glass and touch the surface, certain for a moment that this really is a fairytale and you have fallen down the rabbit hole like Alice. You don’t say anything, and neither does Tae- he just takes your hand and spins you under his arm, your dress flares out around you- swishing with the heavy weight of many layers of fabric and tulle. And you let yourself fall into his arms like some damsel and tae your knight in his swept back golden hair. 

- “I’m going to buy you every dress like this in the world if it makes you smile like this my love” normally he wouldn’t refer to you as my love- but today- when everything is a fairytale- it almost feels fitting. You are smiling, and you give yourself another long look in the mirror before you turn on him. Dimly aware that some of the makeup artists are swooning at the picture you paint. 

- for once, you have to admit- you look well matched. 

- “I was promised a date Kim Taehyung” you say, a smile toying at the edge of your lips. Taehyung holds out his hand, bowing at the waist. “It would be my honor of having you accompany me Ms. Y/l/n.” 

- “That’s ‘your highness’ to you” and both of you can’t help but let out a giggle at the ridiculous farce. Your ‘chariot’ is nothing more than Taehyung’s car. The one you’re used to taking. And the drive isn’t all that far away. an hour at most. 

- Far below- the ocean turns the sea spray and distant rumbling the only clue to the shore below you. You almost want to swoon at the picture that Taehyung had set up, flowers laid out on the white blanket, food and other things, a Bluetooth speaker set up playing soft music. Taehyung makes sure to lay out the food. And feed you mouthfuls of sweet figs that taste sweeter when he licks the juice off of your tongue. 

- After lunch Taehyung takes a few polaroid’s of you. Because even if Jungkook is doing what he promised, Taehyung still wants ones that are taken from his hands. He gets a few of you, stretched out against the white blanket, your arched enticingly without your shoes on, discarded in the grass. It could be a boudoir photo-shoot with the way it makes Taehyung’s mouth go dry, if not for the way the lace clings to your body. Covering the bits Tae wants to see. His hands hot and heavy on your calf, and sliding up.  

- He thinks of actually doing a boudoir photo-shoot with you, considers the likelihood of you agreeing to it. he imagines your body bare against heavenly silks, hips hiked up to show off the curve of your ass. one day- Taehyung will convince you to model for him that way. Even if he suffers through the whole thing feeling as strung out as he does now.

- After lunch you take the stairs down to the water's edge and take your shoes off. Running in the sea spray, Taehyung gets a few more photos of you like that. Laughing at a joke he’s said, holding your dress up and out of the water. Collecting little shells that you shove into the pocket of his suit. 

- All in all- by the time you get back up the rocky staircase and back to clean things up- your lipstick is kissed off your mouth, you have sand in the bottom of your shoes, and you smell more like sea spray than expensive perfume. But you feel pretty and delicate in a way that you’ve never felt before. And you’re certain that it’s all because of Tae. Taehyung’s used up all of the rolls of film that he brought- and he’s sure jungkook has too. between the two of them they’ve probably taken over 300 photos of you. 

- “Did I do a good job today?” Taehyung asks on the drive home, always a good sucker for some good old words of affirmation. Stopping for fast food because- what his princess wants- his princess gets. “The best” you say. Head tipped back against the seat, already looking sleepy, Taehyung’s suit jacket pulled across your shoulders. “You really are my prince charming Tae.

- And he is- even if the dragon that needs slaying in one firmly locked inside of your head. Taehyung will help you defeat it, even if it takes 100 days and 100 different dresses. 

- Taehyung ends up buying you more dresses. Every color. And your new game becomes finding more of them. taehyung collects pointlessly pretty things to make you feel more beautiful, and he loves every moment of it. 

- When the photos come back from Jungkook (a secret they had actually managed to keep) your eyes go wide as you take in the photos, so much clearer than the ones that tae had taken on his polaroid camera. You paint a gorgeous picture together, him in his green that matches the grass and you- as delicate as the flowers around you. 

- But your favorite thing about the photos- isn’t how you look (though you have to admit for once- that you did look beautiful) it’s the way Taehyung is looking at you. He’s looking at you like he’s aching, like It hurts to be parted from you even an inch. 

- There is one series of three photos that you like the most. Where you’ve closed your eyes and are leaning back in the sun and his hair is shining, one moment he’s not holding your hand and he’s frowning, looking so jaggedly honest and thoughtful, and then next your hand is in his and he’s smiling brighter than the sun. 

- You hang the photos in your living room. And next to the other photos you have, you don’t look nearly as happy as you do in those. It’s your smile that's different. When you look at the polaroids that tae’s taken of you. You’re smiling at him behind the camera, and you think even if it weren’t for the makeup and the dress- you still think you’d look beautiful in the photos. 

- happiness- the kind that comes unburdened by insecurity- looks good on you, and if you can get that by love- by being in love and being loved with your pain instead of despite it, then it’s all the more beautiful. 

- you go on more ‘pretty dates’ as you like to call them. and Taehyung watches you change slowly- but it’s for the better. As you don’t shy away from your reflection, wear longer dresses and prettier things without thinking. Wear that shade of lipstick again, and even go out wearing nothing at all on your face and seem not to feel anything. Taehyung knows it’s a struggle some days still- and yet you make it look so effortless. 

- it's the worst when tae comes home and he finds whatever outfit you picked out for yourself already hung back up- and he’ll whine and beg you to put it on again until you eventually concede. Capturing them in black and white, in technicolor, in isolated swatches of red and blue. he loves taking pictures- especially if theyre of you.  

- The picture wall gets added to in the future, until there is no more space in your living room. You call taehyung an obsessive flirt when he insists on hanging them up and he calls you his muse. You go on more not wedding wedding dates. And it’s no surprise to either of you when one-day someone- a fan spots and you soon pictures of you are plastered all over the internet- stories about a secret wedding between taehyung and a mystery girl. 

-  And in the end- it doesn't feel like you give up much with the unintended outing of your relationship. Taehyung couldn’t take it back even if he wanted to and he doesn't. now he gets to hold your hand and go out in public. “No- we’re not married yet. But we have been dating for a while so please respect our privacy.” He tells the reporters when he gets ambushed. And after a few stressful months where you lean into each other more than ever, things calm down. 

- You have to be a little more secretive after that, careful when and where you plan your ‘pretty dates’ or so Taehyung has liked to call them. A sudden rush of seaside weddings this season makes that difficult and is entirely due to you and your pictures. it seems that you have become an unintended trend setter. the dress you wore selling out too. 

- The hits of his love are always there, in every photograph, in every dress that appears in your closet, in ever tender moments. other hits are there too- hints of more love to come. when Taehyung asks you out for another pretty date, careful to make sure you get your hair done and your nails too. His nervousness written all over his face and his actions. 

- And when you find a ring box, hidden in the pocket of one of Taehyung’s sweatpants the morning you’re supposed to go on your date, You’re not surprised in the slightest. 

- You keep your discovery a secret. After all you only have a few hours to wait.  

-------

Please Reblog and Comment, Likes are nice, but they do little to support content creators! 

Kofi 

[copperbora]

Concept Writing - Kit at the Vet

Heyo, beautifuls! I thought I’d share this piece, which is a concept for a maybe future story. Note that there’s certain elements which I’m not happy with - wolves are so overdone in shape shifting genre - but it’s still a great start and I hope that you enjoy it. 

Kit at the Vet By Rosanna P. Brost October 26th 2017

A kind, animal loving woman is sobbing. She has brown eyes, curly black hair and her husband is as bald as a baseball, with a voluminous moustache capable of winning best in show in any facial hair competition. He sits with one arm around her, consoling her and using his other hand to pet the strawberry blonde and grey dog laying at their feet. Despite the blood matted in the dog’s fur on one hind leg, it appears to be mildly annoyed, as does the receptionist who is sitting at the clinic’s counter. The waiting room is painted a soothing green, the floor is honeyed wood and the dog is really wishing that she could do something about the leash in the lady’s hand, which is so inconveniently attached to her neck, which the man won’t stop touching.

The dog is me and I am not a dog at all but a wolf but I’m also not that either, because I am actually Aurora Peters, Homo sapiens. These schmucks who have brought me in to Pleasant Hill Veterinary Practice are just two more in an annoyingly long line of idiots who apparently can’t read the ‘if found injured, please admit to hospital, not vet’ tag on my collar, or my name, or my mom’s phone number or even my home address. Instead, they’ve all taken me to the vet and it’s only stupid luck that there is only one veterinary practice in town for them to come to. Everyone here knows me, right down to the Russian Blue greeter cat, who has just come to say hi, but Jacob Hars, my well-meaning benefactor, rudely shoos her away. Luna gives a dissatisfied brrrt and wanders off, tail waving in the air, passing Doctor Hank Johnson as he steps out with a clip board. I meet his eyes and we share a moment of shared disgruntlement, then he greets my benefactors, the Hars, who tearily declare the usual.

“Doctor, we think she was hit by a car -”

“Her owners should know better than to let her roam!”

“There’s no name on her collar at all -”

“Doctor, if her people don’t want her, we’ll take her! She’s a beautiful animal!”

“I am truly grateful for your concern for this animal, Mister and Missus Hars,” says Hank charitably, “but I assure you, Kit has a good home and we have her on record. She’s just got a nasty little habit of jumping fences, that’s all.”

The Hars gasp and complain a bit more, but eventually Hank chivvies them out, the receptionist Tanja assuring them that they really do know me, then Hank pulls me into the back room with one of the clinic’s leashes. The moment that we’re through the door and out of sight of the waiting room he unclips the leash from my collar and glares at me. Despite the fact that he’s one tall dude, colour me uninspired - after all, there’s rainbow tabby cats all over his scrubs and he wears a bowtie decorated with paw prints. Plus, he’s like family to me, almost a second father; we even celebrate Christmas together every year and I gave him a birthday present just last week. (An obnoxiously lurid set of new scrubs, of course.)

“Kitsune, you gotta stop getting yourself into so much trouble,” says Hank crossly. “What’d you even do to yourself, girl?”

With some effort, because doing so opposes my current cute ‘n fluffy form, I speak, “I got caught in a barbed wire fence. It was rather against letting me continue on my merry way.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know, there are safer ways of practicing your bloody shape shifting! Couldn’t you have waited for shutzhund tomorrow?”

Ahh, shutzhund. Some girls have volleyball, some girls have jogging and then there’s freaks like me who compete in the lovely German dog sport of mauling guys in heavily padded protective suits - as a dog. My team mate is even a real dog, Hank’s champion Russian bred German Shepherd Vlad, (who, if you’re wondering, does indeed kick my ass at Shutzhund.) Hank got me into it because he figured that since I insist on moving around on all fours and pretending more or less to be canine, I needed to learn how to defend myself that way. Thus far, it has helped me learn how to bark convincingly, which has proven incredibly entertaining.

“Work was so boring, I needed to go out for a run,” I say, extending my hind leg and wincing at the shallow gash in it. “Good thing I’ve had my tetanus shot, eh?”

“Aurora Peters, what season is it?” demands Hank, crossing his arms.

“Fall…?” I say, cocking my head to signal my what-are-you-getting-at because honestly I have no idea why he is asking this dumb question.

“Yes, it’s Fall - hunting season, Aurora! The time of year when a bunch of idiots with guns who don’t know a deer from a shadow are running around our fields and forests looking for wildlife to put bullets in! And what are you, currently, woman?” he snarks. 

I glance at myself, then bare my teeth in a smirk which I have been perfecting in front of my mirror. “Gorgeous.”

Hank looks heavenward, as if asking God for help with bettering my youthful lack of brain cells. “A wolf! And if they don’t mistake you for a wolf, which lots of idiots hate, they’ll mistake you for a bloody flaming coyote, which people hate even more! Do you want a bullet in your brain, woman? ‘cus I can’t fix that!”

He likes calling me ‘woman’ - it’s as if he’s trying to remind me that I am actually a human, a fact which I am quite painfully aware of, thank you. 

“Not particularly,” I say, “but I wasn’t really in a field -”

“It don’t matter!” snaps Hank. “Kitsune, you gotta stay in town right now! And wear a bloody reflective vest, you ninny - emulate dog instead of arrooo.”

I sniff, “I wear it when I am hiking, but I need someone to put it on for me and I was alone, so -”

“Couldn’t you have stopped by here? Or gotten Rick, anybody to put it on for you?”

I look at him blankly, silently admitting: this would have been smart.

“But I’m alone tonight, so how the heck would I get it off afterwards?” I ask shrewdly.

Cue another eye roll. “You come by here and I’d take it off for you, you know I’m here for another hour. Kit, why can’t you have a weekday hobby? Why do you have to spend every spare minute you have running naked around town?”

He’s right, actually; if I were to transform right now, I would be naked, a fact which many townspeople have witnessed, thanks to the first time that I was hit by a bicycle (bikes are my nemesis) and the good Samaritan cyclist tried to help me. When I spoke up to say that I had just been stunned and was fine, the cyclist had fainted. Me, being kind of an idiot, had transformed back to perform CPR if needed, thinking they were in cardiac arrest - and at that moment, a long line of kindergartners had walked past the park where we were with their teacher on the way to the pool, the kids discovering quite abruptly what boobs look like. I had been unable to concentrate enough to change back, so I had ran streaking for home, only for my embarrassment to become truly complete by the police officer who had stopped by to write me a ticket for public indecency that evening. It had not ended there - for weeks I had had the parents of the kindergartners being terribly rude to me and that was about the time when I opted to spend the rest of my secondary education at home. 

“Well, since you were dumb and forgot to bring by another set of clothes for circumstances like this from the last time that you swore you wouldn’t show up here like this, you can spend the rest of my shift hanging out with Vlad until I can drive you home,” determined Hank and he herded me into his office, where Vlad was quite happy to slobber all over my face. Tail clamped between my hindquarters to thwart Vlad’s mundane yet cherished canine hobby of butt sniffing, I turned back to the door, just as Hank was about to shut it. His eyebrows shunted low over his dark eyes and I nervously laid back my ears.

“Y’know, Kit, someday this shape shifting nonsense is going to get you into some real trouble, and I might not be there to help,” said Hank and with these forbidding words, he walks off, cheerfully calling a greeting to his next, real patient.

Unfortunately, he repeats this warning in some format every time I end up at his clinic on four legs - after all, that’s how we first met - so I don’t really listen to him. Instead, I proceed to horse around with Vlad.

Like an idiot.

[spiteandalice]

Judas Touch Pt 5

Sincerest apologies for my scatterbrain. Whenever I sit down to write this my brain goes BUT WHAT IF DAUNTLESS WERE WEREWOLVES! WRITE THAT! Or I get ideas for the second story which is actually my first that I never continued past the basic outlines. 

SMUT warning, language warning and also violence warning because this character has a lot of violent thoughts.

tagging, as per request: @beautifulramblingbrains @beltz2016

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR Fuck Eric and his stupid face. Fuck Max. Fuck the fucking infirmary and all the wretched staff. They conspired against me and that is so not appreciated. I fell asleep on the ride back and when I woke up I was in the infirmary. Handcuffed to a cot and sedated. For my own good. The second I get out of these cuffs I will be leaving a trail of limbs behind all the way to the leadership offices.

Lucy, my nurse who is most definitely strung out on Amity serum, comes in with that chipper smile and bounce in her step that instantly sets my teeth on edge. She is the one that informed me that they had to run some tests before giving me a healing serum or anything other than small doses of the harmless painkillers half of our faction eats like candy. Because, you see, I had unprotected intercourse and could be pregnant.

For that alone I will cut off his balls with a rusty butter knife.

“Doing good I see. We will get you some good food in a bit, you need more nutritious meals in your diet after what you've been through, especially given the circumstances.”

She smiles at me as if we were best friends talking about our crushes during a sleepover. If she tries to braid my hair or paint my nails I will put her head through the nearest wall.

“But first, you have a visitor. Quite a few, actually, but you're supposed to rest. Can't send Max away though so he'll be in shortly.”

“I think we should take that rest thing very seriously, don't you think. Just have someone shoot everyone that tries to disturb me. Even better, just give me my gun.”

That giggle is the most terrifying thing I have ever heard and I have heard my own bones break.

Unfortunately my suggestion fell on deaf ears, because Max strolls in minutes later, looking like the pompous ass that he is. They have some strange birds out in Amity that are strutting around as if they owned the place and I named the fattest of them Max. They roasted him during my last ambassador visit and he was rather tasty.

“Mina, it is good to see you are up….” Max has one of those faces that seem completely blank at times, making it a bitch to read for me. But he looks at my cuffed wrist and chuckles, that isn't hard to decipher. Dauntless men are a bunch of sexist pigs. “Eric enjoyed that a little too much.”

“Yeah, wait until I get out of here, he will find that even more enjoyable.”

Our grand leader raises an eyebrow at me and instantly makes me feel like a child throwing a tantrum, which I can ignore like a pro. I was raised by the most intimidating bitch this faction has seen before I came along, he has nothing on that. Max strolls over to the tiny window with his hands clasped behind his back, something I feel he would have picked up from an old book if I thought he was truly capable of reading. We are not the brainy faction and reading is somewhat of a shameful little vice people do behind closed doors - funny, because I can’t count all the semi-public blowjobs I’ve walked past in my years here.

“I realize that I shouldn't have sent you out so soon, so part of this mess is on me. You were absolutely reckless and ill prepared to deal with surprises. Never, ever go out on a mission without your phone, Mina, that's one of the first things we teach our fledgling soldiers. You need a way to contact us at all times in case the radio fails. How you didn't think about having one of your team get back to us… it shows me that you aren't fully ready to lead our groups out there.”

I open my mouth, ready to start the angry retorts, but he holds up his hand.  Without even fucking looking at me, how creepy is that?

“However… you handled yourself well, given the circumstances. All of yours came back relatively unharmed. Which, of course, is a testament to their training as much as your leadership. I realize that you have been through a lot lately, which is why you will continue to focus on our initiates for now. It will take two days for the test results to come back, you will rest until then. We will decide how to proceed after we have news on your… status. Although, to be honest, it's about damn time. The new ruling was passed just around the time you disappeared so we cut Eric some slack, but since you are back, well.  That saves us some time.”

I'm not often speechless but I'm positively dumbstruck. What the actual fuck? He is the one who sent me on this supposedly easy trip. Just days after I got back from being tortured and all that fun shit. Now he's telling me I'm not fit to do my job? That is rich. And not one word about the patron saint of sanctimonious assclowns who decided that I was some fucking damsel in distress? That Nose has read way too many old books about knights and secretly virtuous bandits saving helpless womenfolk in need. And then… hold on.

“What new ruling?”

It is nearly impossible to look any more condescending than Max right now, but he seems to remember that I've only been back for a few days and can't possibly be up to speed on everything that has been going on.

“There's been talk about how to improve birth rates, they are low all across the board. It's now a prerequisite for leaders and higher ranking members of all factions to be married and have children. Ideally before they are chosen, which doesn't apply to those already holding a position when the ruling came to effect, of course. They have a certain time frame to find a suitable partner, which was suspended in Eric’s case due to his age and circumstances back then. And we made an exception for you for now since it's only a matter of time that you two make it official, especially if you really are pregnant already. Two birds, one stone.”

And with the most aggravating smug expression he drops some papers onto my bed and saunters away.

Yep, going to kill them. All of them. Slowly.

In what has to be one of the most amateur moves of the century Max actually left stacks of paperwork held together by paperclips. I was born Dauntless, we handcuffed each other for fun in daycare to see who could get out the fastest.

So I am currently on my way to my alleged betrothed, head held high as I limp around the compound barefoot and bruised in nothing but sweatpants and a tank top. People move out of the way in spite of my pathetic appearance because hell hath no fury like a Dauntless woman on her way to smite patriarchy.

The raven haired chick that's supposed to be Eric’s assistant doesn't even bother to try and stop me so I make a point of remembering her name.  Raven, oh dear. But Raven shall receive a generous gift basket soon. Maybe we'll share it sitting on a pile of heads. She inclines her head towards the closed door and smirks at me, I can hear him snarl at someone. This should be good.

There is a certain beauty in the sound a door makes when it is opened so forcefully it ricochets off the wall, even more beautiful when it's accompanied by the various sounds of shock a group of five already intimidated grown men is capable of producing. I look them over and growl.

“Out. NOW!”

They scurry away like spooked little kittens before Eric can say anything to the contrary and I silently dare the little bastard to say something. To give me one more reason to fucking maim him. But he doesn’t, merely looks at me with that cold, slightly disgusted look of his he bestows on mortals. Asshole.

“You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“What did you say? You want me to crush your skull? That can definitely be arranged.”

As an afterthought I kick the door shut, I can at least pretend that we are trying to keep this quiet. At this point I don’t care if we do this in the middle of the Pit on a Saturday night, since everyone is up in my business already anyway.

“You’re acting like a fucking child.”

He is still sitting behind his desk, arms folded in front of him, looking strangely tense. Eric is always so nonchalant, even when he gets angry, but this is different. Not that he would like it if I let on to seeing the difference, he likes to be the unreadable one. The aloof leader. My ass.

Even though moving hurts, a lot, I manage to hobble to his desk and shove it towards him. It’s relatively solid, but I know that one of the legs on his side has been wobbly since I spent some time bent over the thing, it was shaking considerably. Luck is on my side and the leg breaks, sending his computer and neat stacks of paperwork flying.

Finally, a reaction.

Grinding his teeth hard enough for me to hear Eric slowly rises out of his chair and fixates me with his patented stare that is supposed to make me submit on the spot. All it does is annoy me, and make me a little wet. His nostrils flare, too.

Maybe a little more than a little wet.

“So when were you going to tell me about your little schemes, there, leaderboy? Do you honestly think you could trick ME into this shit? I don’t want to get fucking married and I don’t want to breed, for fuck’s sake. They can take their leadership position and shove it up their collective asses for all I care, I’d rather go back to listening to Amity’s crop problems.”

The computer screen crunches under his boot because he is too busy staring at me having my outburst. This is usually more fun when the other party actually responds though, and he’s beginning to creep me out. Without a word he grabs me and slams me against the door, I think we’ve been here before, not too long ago. My brain isn’t working properly right now. Might be the lack of oxygen because he’s got a hand over my throat, pressing down just far enough to make my vision a little blurry around the edges. Might also be because the blood flow to my brain has been slowed down in favor of sending more blood rushing through my nether regions.

“I'm not tricking you into anything. You neglected to take care of birth control so I informed them of that. And you might not give a shit about your position but if I want to keep mine I have to get married and at least pretend to adhere to the new rules. Matter of fact, Jeanine has suggested a few suitable  candidates I didn't bother to look at yet.”

Of course she did. Something inside me tries to protest at the idea of Eric marrying some dumb Dauntless bimbo for appearances. Truly a dumb move because at this point nobody would believe that he actually wants her, not after… this. Maybe he has a point. I will not admit that even if it would save my life. It is a fact that he can’t stand about 99.9% of the population of this city and that is a very generous number, all things considered. The thought of having to share a place with someone, even just for appearances, makes my skin crawl. Married people don’t live in separate apartments, do they?

“So you didn’t try to knock me up on purpose?”

My words sound squeaky since he is still trying to strangle me. Eric still looks angry but he raises an eyebrow at me and something about his face is completely off. It’s not anger, there are several shades of that everyone here is very familiar with. It’s not lust, either, although somewhere deep inside he would probably not object to fucking me right now. Not quite sad, either. Disappointed? Why would he be disappointed.

“So you really think I would trick you like that.”

Eric has a talent for making it sound like he is not asking questions and that he wouldn’t be interested in the answer if people still took it as one. But I am beginning to realize that he wants me to trust him. After all, I sleep when he is around, more or less. I’m naked. Granted, I have developed a habit of waking up with my gun in my hand, but that is a recent development. So me assuming the worst, just like everyone else would, is pretty much the opposite of what he expects of me.

“Excuse me for not being able to read your fucking mind, I will get right to practicing that.”

I do notice that the pressure around my throat eases just that little bit that makes all the difference between life and death and I gasp, desperate to take advantage of the once again relatively unrestricted airflow. But Eric still has that strange look and it bothers me more than it probably should, being a friend with undeniable benefits and all. I sigh and try to gather my wits.

“Look. I’ve been kidnapped and tortured. I come back to this clusterfuck, am made a leader and almost killed once more, excuse me for being in a mindset where expecting the worst is kind of the thing to do. It has nothing to do with you, Eric.” There it is, his face looks a little less miserable, but that glimmer of hope hiding behind the frown is almost worse. Definitely worse is the urge to protect that little spark at all cost. “And I guess you are the best choice for this marriage bullshit, out of everyone I hate you the least and your chances of surviving the first three months are pretty good. I’ll think about it, alright. I just… need to sort through shit.”

If I didn’t knew any better I’d think he looks relieved, but it is quickly replaced with his trademark smirk. “I can work with that…” His hand yanks down my sweatpants and much to both our surprise I am not wearing anything underneath. Who the hell undressed me in the infirmary? They sure got an eye full. The new underwear I bought is uncomfortable and I’ve always preferred going commando, as they say.

Coming back to my senses I push off the wall and shove Eric backwards until he is in his chair again, before I can straddle him he has his pants unzipped and is ready for me to slip onto him. Not a single sound can be heard from inside this room as I lower myself slowly, torturing both of us inch by inch until I am fully seated and Eric grabs my hips, trying to urge me to move. It’s always like this, fast and hard and relentless but maybe I’m in the mood for something new. If the guy can fucking spoon me all night he can let me have this moment.

And he does, even though I can see he doesn’t like it much, at least not until I dip my head to catch his bottom lip between my teeth and lightly tug on it. It gives him something to focus on and the bruising grip on my hips loosens a little when I suck on his tongue, Eric even groans, a strangled little sound but it’s there. Another follows when I begin to slowly roll my hips, not lifting myself up at all but grinding against him instead.He wraps both arms around me and I half expect him to try and take charge, which he could easily do given his clear physical advantage. Instead he just leaves them around me, holding on to me and steadying me at the same time. It’s kind of nice.

Somewhere outside people are talking in hushed voices but I only hear them as if I’m under water somewhere, distorted and distant. All my focus is solidly tethered to where we are joined, my tightening muscles and the feeling of my skin sliding against his in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. The friction of coarse hair against my sensitive flesh is soon gone, soothed by sweat and the wetness pooling at the apex of my thighs whenever he just so much as raises an eyebrow at me.

Then his phone rings and he holds up his hand. Is he fucking serious?

“It’s Jeanine.”

Of course he is fucking serious. I watch, undoubtedly with my mouth wide open, as he picks the damn thing up and greets that witch, at least he has the decency to sound annoyed. Good, he is currently balls deep in his probably, maybe future wife.

“Eric. You still have not answered my message so i decided to be a little more proactive, after checking your schedule I saw that you have an opening right now. The most suitable candidate i personally picked should arrive at your office any moment…”

My eyes widen but before I can snatch the phone away eric blocks me with his free arm and scowls at me. In response I tighten my muscles and he hisses.

“No need for that Jeanine, you know that.”

Good boy. I begin to slightly rock my hips back and forth, thoroughly enjoying his grimace. And I am very much looking forward to his retaliation as soon as he gets off the phone.

“Please don’t tell me you are still hanging on to the foolish notion that that savage woman is a good match for you. If you think that you have to, given the circumstances, I can evaluate the test personally, I’ll have someone bring her samples up to me this instant. Even if she should be pregnant, we could…”

Within seconds Eric’s face switches from mildly annoyed to murderous.

“Don’t even say that. My answer has been, is, and will be no, no matter how often you bring this up. I am very happy to accommodate you on a professional level, but this concerns my private life and I decide who I marry, if I do and when.”

This man is a god and I don’t think I have ever liked him more than in this very second when he is telling my least favorite person in existence to shove her ideas up her ass. Which, considering how stuck up she is, should be ready to burst already with all the sticks up there. I grind my hips harder and Eric growls, but he is grinning at me.

The Matthews woman is going on about how, as a leader, he has a duty to his faction 24/7 and how the perfect match for him should reflect him in the best way possible but I can tell he lost all interest in the conversation a while ago.

“I’ll have to let you go, I am currently in a meeting with a very savage woman that is demanding my attention. Have your assistant contact my assistant about our next official meeting. I’m done with this bullshit.”

And he hangs up, drops his phone to the floor and gets up, all within seconds. I’m firmly wrapped around him and not sure if he’s grinning or snarling, but I don’t think even he is very sure about that.

“You fucking bitch”, he hisses and sends shivers down my spine, that man has a way with words that makes at least this savage woman swoon.

There is some rustling and crashing as he flings away things that have fallen off his toppled desk to make room on the floor, I may or may not be laughing about his urgency, but once he has me on the floor and the admittedly pretty loud sound of flesh slapping against flesh can be heard that laughing turns into barely muffled moans and it doesn’t take long before we both cry out in unison, muffled by each other’s necks, jaws locked and tender flesh caught between our teeth like two dogs fighting over a bone. We will be walking around with teeth marks, both of us, but that is nothing new. Maybe we can make that our form of engagement thing, most here get a tattoo when married and do a little trinket exchange before that to signal that they are off the market. I like this better, the skin on my neck an angry red, teeth indentations clearly visible, a little bit of blood trickling down.

When we stumble out of his office, both in a suspiciously good mood, me pulling up my pants, he just zipping up his, Raven sits behind her desk and bites into her fist, barely hiding her amusement. There is a girl, and she is really barely more than that, sitting on a chair waiting, wearing her best little dress and too much makeup. Eric looks her over and mutters a ”Hell, no.” that, embarrassingly enough, makes me giggle. Which, in turn, makes him smirk at me and slap my ass. I guess we’re doing that thing with touching in front of others now?

Raven leans forward and clears her throat. “Sir, I will call maintenance to have someone check your intercom since it doesn’t turn off anymore.”

I look at Eric, he looks at me. So… they could hear everything. Every muttered curse, every slap, every hiss. I shrug, he grins. I was born without the part of the brain that lets you feel embarrassment.

“Thank you, Raven. Take the afternoon off, clear my schedule.”

And with that he throws me over his shoulder and walks towards his apartment. Our apartment. For once I’m not inclined to protest, instead I practice my regal wave when he passes a group of gawking initiates.

PART SIX