(Y/N) POV:

There's slithers of moments between the burning heat when it's quiet, when it's calm, when the sheets are clean and soft against skin and to soothe the aches there's a tiger there.

He's always there, through the burning, through the calm, he's there through the mindless dizzying need that has me aching and begging for him, there through the keening cries against his skin and the weight pinning my thrashing body down, filling me so deeply, breeding me so thoroughly that even out of the heat-daze I wonder whether his scent will take, whether his breeding will take.

He's there when the burning quietens, hands smoothening over limbs wracked with tremors, exhausted with pleasure and pliantly manoeuvred by hands that carefully draw me up against him, head resting against his shoulder, settled against his chest, breaths calming alongside his heartbeat, fingers curled against skin, breathing in the sweetening, settling pulse of berry.

He's there hands carefully smoothening over fever-damp skin, towel gently sponging at skin, hands careful between my thighs, touches soft and fleeting, barely registered in that deep fog of scent seeping into my skin, every inch of my body sinking further into the bed with exhaustion, silently curling into him, chasing the warmth of his body and his arms around me.

He's there, all low murmurs and deep rumbling voice, eyes fluttering heavier and heavier at the intrinsic comfort I find in the rumbles seeping into my skin, more often than not entangled with deep chuffs that coax my body to sink limp and tired against him, scent seeping softer in response to the blanketing weight of both Tae and his berry-soft scent sinking skin deep.

Tae's there sometimes stirring me from sleep with hands coaxing food or water to my lips, sometimes brushing hair away from my face, lips brushing to skin, nosing gently as he scents and holds me to him. Sometimes it's the bed dipping with a heavier weight, the soft careful prowl of paws sinking into the mattress, thick fur brushing against my cheek, all stripes and heavy warmth, cheek gently nudging against mine. Soft fur ticklish and warm and head eagerly drooping into my touch. My hand sinking into fur, the drag of nails and fingers gentle, trailing downwards, coaxing deep, giddy chuffs, his head eagerly following the movement.

Gently nuzzling against my palm, large fangs painstakingly careful against my wrist, the slightly rough rasp of his tongue against my wrist, chuffing as my hands reach out for him, sinking into fur, brushing along his cheeks and down his large shifted form.

Mind still dazed with his scent, his fur a soft weight under my palms as he crowds against me, drooping so his head is close enough to press grooming licks along my cheeks, ducking down to nuzzle against my throat.

The subconscious reminder of a large predator hovering over me only brings a deep satiating comfort to my settled instincts. Because it's Tae. Because this large predator is mine. And his biology is wired on protecting than hunting.

Lips quirking at the corners.

"Big kitten licks." I mumble, gently scratching at fur, coaxing deep rumbles that are stained with berry-sweet contentment.

Chuuuuuuff.

The sound of his happiness, of his tendy grooming grows in exuberance and depth, rumbling as his paws carefully pad to hover over me entirely, paws settled beside my head, dark sharp eyes starting at me with an attentiveness that's utterly and wholly my Tae. Pink nose nudging against mine as he leans down, the curl and sway of his tail behind him, big grooming licks that make me squirm, smile growing as I continue to pet him .

"So tendy. When you left all the marks." I tease softly, lips quirking at the barest scrape of fangs at my throat, the ticklish brush of fur against my throat as he leans inwards, his significantly larger form trying to crowd against me compels me to arch my neck back, head tilted to allow him to continue to nuzzle, a rumbling happiness bleeding into the stream of chuffs that reverberate against my skin. My big tiger cub nuzzling at me to curl closer, a small wiggle that his entire form ripples with before he carefully sinks down.

Sprawling over me entirely, blanketing me under soft thick fur, weight enough to pin me there and keep me sandwiched under him without any space for movement, head bonking at my cheek, nose slightly cold where he rumbles against my jaw.

"Not letting me leave?" I ask, murmuring the question into soft stripey fur.

There's a distinct huff of breath, a protesting rumble that makes my scent sweeten with fond amusement.

My hand curls around him, trying to draw him closer, looking impossibly small against his fur.

"Wasn't planning on it cub."

Another rumble, distinctly protesting and grumbling at the title but he sinks down against me, gently bonking his nose against my jaw.

Sleep.

I'm here.

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

He's there, still sandwiching me in, body pinning mine to the bed. Sometimes between cycles, between small naps he wakes up shifted back, wakes with cheek pressed to my skin and curls tickling where he moves to burrow against me with an indecipherable grumble.

Sometimes, when the cycles settle for longer and there's hours or an indeterminable amount of time where the two of us can properly sleep and rest, I wake to a stripey blanket still sprawled over me, keeping me tucked and hidden under him, sometimes still asleep, chuffs the deepest as he sleeps on top of me. Sometimes half-awake and grooming me still, large kitten licks and gentle nuzzles, wiggling happily when my hand reaches out, eyes bleary with fatigue to reciprocate, nose and tongue finding my palm instead to eagerly greet me, awakening a tiny bit more.

He's there, big, gentle hands smoothening over flickering ears, there when sometimes... sometimes I pad over to him quietly, legs wobbly and trembling, gently pawing at a sleeping tiger that rouses from sleep to peer with feline slits. Ears perking as he registers me, tail curling behind him and hands carefully scooping me to settle me against the cradle of his arm encircling me, head resting on his chest, soft bleats coaxed out by the hand that smoothens over my ears and down my neck, fingers gently rubbing at soft down and petting at me.

He's there when sometimes I wake and the discomfort was a fraction too much, words coaxing.

"Shift pretty doe. I'll look after you." words promising and coaxing, smile curving deep, boxy and fangy when I do pad over closer to him, clambering onto his torso, curling up to rest, flickering ears brushing against his jaw, nose at his throat and body feeling soothed inexplicably by the constant calm thud of his pulse, tilting closer and closer, bleary-eyed and chasing his touch, scent pooling soft and seeping into his skin.

Nuzzling at his nose, quietly booping my nose against his jaw, his cheeks, front legs reaching out for him to draw me close, to scoop me into the circle of his arms when he leans against the headboard, pillows and blankets half-rumpled but arranged in a way that broadcasts nest, fingers nudging cubes of fruit to my mouth. Teeth and tongue gently nibbling at his fingertips, bleating against his palm as I nose along proffered skin to scent him.

He's there when I shift back without conscious realisation, there as the weight on his chest turns into a bodily sprawl, hands brushing back my hair, coaxing me back down to rest against him once more, lips curving against my temple and letting his hands skim up and down my back.

"Welcome back little love."

"Hi tiger." Voice slightly hoarse from disuse, curling against him for pure comfort more than rest.

Lips brushing against his collarbone.

"Hi baby cub."

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

It isn't an ache but the simmering embers of heat pulse in my veins. A reminder of the blurred haze of days past and lost and drowning in Tae. In his touch, his scent, his branding claim.

This heat is quiet, lazy flickers of flame that dart across skin, random burning grazes that fuel into dwindling my patience. In letting it fall apart, distracted and dazed, ears flickering, narrowing onto the pure husky timbre of Tae's voice.

Barely registering the words. Barely registering what he's saying, hands reaching for him, nudging the bottle aside with a discontent sound, turning my lips from towards him to press against his collarbone instead. Nuzzling against warm golden skin, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his skin. Absently nibbling. Teeth dragging against the sharp outline of bone, slowly letting them sink in slightly. Lips marking a trail up to the curve of his shoulder, towards the stretch of muscle, the breadth of it.

His hand at my back sprawls heavier. Fingers pressing tight.

"(Y/N)..." he grits out, biting out a warning.

"Tae." I murmur, voice softer against his skin, nuzzling against him, breathing in the steady pulse of his scent.

A soft shaky exhale, the tighter press of his fingers, as if he's trying to leave their prints behind, their possessive sprawl on my skin, over the curve of my backside.

"Not going to finish the water?"

"Nope..." lips quirking up at the corners.

"Decided to change your mind?"

I hum against him.

"Found something better."

Lips moving against his skin, lips and teeth marking a blooming trail of red across warm, golden skin, feel the small shift of his body, neither sinking down, nor crowding against me immediately. The sound of the bottle being set aside, the slight dip in the bed as his hand sinks into it, weight settling again.

"Hungry?" voice teasing and playful, the single word drawled with intent. The tighter press of his fingertips tugging a stuttered breath past my lips, hitching as his hand trails lower, the possessiveness clear in his touch. Hand dragging over curves, palming at me, a sharp sudden squeeze that lets me hear the grin in his soft chuff.

"Starving." I reply. Smell the sharpening tinge to his scent at my response.

The softer growl that ripples in the air, a warning groaned against my temple, nosing against my skin, burrowing closer, lips pressing to my hair.

A gentle, tender gesture that's at odds with the simmering, slowly burning heat of the embers I coax into smouldering flames.

Play with the fire enough and it burns you.

Except I had no intent of being lost in the blaze alone.

"Starving for..." he asks, purposely goading, drawing me upwards, my head tilting up to peer at hi, body tilting to sit upright rather than sprawled against him and unable to read his expression, unable to see the flickering heat and faux-ignorance he plays.

This way... this way I can read his body, his eyes that are already fixed on me, narrowing in the slightest– a gleam in them that's unmissable.

"One tiger."

"And if I don't want to be eaten? What if I want to–"

I lean in closer, body twisting to hover over him, arm propping myself up, head tilting to appraise him. Eyeing the lazy sprawl of his body, the assured smirk tugging his lips that twists into a sharp surprised sound when I duck closer to press my lips to his, teeth sinking into his bottom lip sharp and sudden.

"What was that?" lips quirking in a smile against his lips, tongue flicking against his bottom lip, hand angling his jaw up, nose gently brushing against his.

But he's not willing to relinquish the closeness, his other hand brushing against my arm, slipping down to settle against the fold of my arm, tugging me closer, lips parting under mine. Tongue flicking against mine, groaning when I tilt closer, body gravitating to his, one leg slung over his lap before I straddle him fully, thighs squeezing on either side of his.

"All the fun for the tiger? None for me?"

The small groan that slips past his lips, my tongue flicking against his, evading his, sweeping slow and thorough through his mouth. Swallowing the soft exhale, sinking into the tightening pressure of his hands, curved around me, drawing me closer to him.

"You can have your fun." he echoes, slightly breathless when I draw away.

There's a bubbling sense of pride and accomplishment, my eyes lingering at the swollen slickness of his lips, bruised and kiss-reddened state of them.

"Yeah? I didn't know all it took were some kisses to get a tiger to be so agreeable."

His eyes sharpen.

Mouth still parted.

"I can smell how much you want to have your wicked way with me sweetheart."

My lips curve into a grin.

"I wouldn't say wicked. I just want you to be my pillow prince... the opposite of wicked if I want to take care of every need and do all the hard work whilst you lie all pretty for me." I lilt.

His hand slips from my arm, body tilting up to press a trail of kisses across the curve of my shoulder, readjusting his grip to settle tight on my hips instead.

His hand curves slightly tighter around my arm, body tilting up to press a trail of kisses across the curve of my shoulder, lips lingering for a few moments each time.

"Well in that case. Let me be a pretty picture for you then." words murmured against skin, tilting easily to the crook of my fingers angling his face back, his head tilting back, exposing the thick column of his throat, golden skin begging and demanding marks to colour the canvas of unblemished skin and swollen glands.

I press another kiss to his lips, hand nudging at his sternum.

He sinks down easily, readily at the gesture, a lazy sprawled tiger watching... tracking my movements, gaze lingering appreciatively at my thighs, gaze briefly narrowing. Darkening.

"Very pretty." I echo, eyes dragging down his front. The lazy remnants of heat flare at the sight of him, at the broad lines of his shoulders, to the thick curve of his arms taut with muscle, trailing my gaze down his front, lingering at his chest, slowly raking lower and lower, fingers brushing against skin. Warm and soft to the touch, his stomach clenching reflexively as my hand dips lower before drifting to skim over his hip bone. Fingers trailing lightly over the crease of his hip and thigh, trailing over flesh, feeling toned muscle and sinew underneath.

See the way his legs unconsciously part slightly, an invite that my hand shirks from, lips curving deeper at the soft buck of his hips, the quieter hiss and groan as his head sinks back with an audible thump against the pillows.

But his gaze doesn't tear from mine.

I can feel it, a weighted caress that brushes over the curve of my spine, the lines and dips of my front, lingering on my every move with a bated anticipation that for a while subverts the predator-prey dynamic between us.

The tiger the prey.

And the fawn the hunter. The predator.

It sparks a different electric pulse of excitement and arousal. A different bubbling heat that has little to do with the intrinsic biological needs and more to do with everything this week has been forgotten and now there's only this.

But even so... this surrendered power, this lazy sprawl is a tiger at rest, at ease. And only for now.

Indulging in the game, in the hunt.

Because it's just as much of a thrill to him. To seemingly surrender the control, the haze this entire week's been steeped with.

"Play all you like sweetheart... just know I'll have my turn and my fun too." he lilts, knowing full well the intent of his words, lips curved with a rakish grin.

"I'd never be unfair to you Tae." peering at him from lowered lashes, the sight of him alone makes my thighs shift restlessly, his grin deepening, scent thickening with the knowledge of how much power he holds without even attempting to wield it.

But the tight clench to his jaw, the thrum of his pulse at his neck, the curl of his fingers finding purchase in the sheets and not on me as I begin to mark a trail of slow kisses over his thighs, gives away how hard it is to let go, to surrender that control and not lunge for me and take.

The fire in my gut burns stronger and unyielding, stirred to a greater heat at his impatience. The same impatience that in turn stokes my own, rouses it, liquid heat searing its path through my veins.

Body shifting restlessly underneath me, a soft groan as I let my hand drift up to tease at one nipple then the other. Fingers slowly circling one stiffening bud, body curving closer over him, hips rocking slowly, lips and teeth against honey-warm skin.

It's almost admirable the self-restraint he tries to show, soft breathy groans and the clench of his body tightening up, arms almost stiff with the ache to hold his hands down, the veins in his forearms and hands prominent, the tendons in his throat almost straining as he swallows down a low shuddered moan, his length stiff and hard against the inside of my thigh.

Rutting with shaky grinds of his hips.

"You minx." he breathes, hands curling tight enough that his knuckles whiten with the pressure.

"You love me anyways." I murmur, lips against his chest, teeth sinking in sharply, hands tightening at his waist, hips rocking forward against me, his hand unclenching, gripping at my thigh tightly instead.

"I do. Love you so much." voice trembling slightly, a restlessness beginning to seep into his body, thrumming with a cagey energy that pushes at the barriers of skin and bone.

My heart clenches tightly.

Pressing a softer kiss to the dark mark blooming on his pec, soft kitten licks, mouthing gently at skin, admiring the red against golden skin. Every kiss lingers longer and longer, tongue flicking against the ghost of indents left behind, intent to make sure the claim stays, a deepening red flushed with colour and stained with my scent.

Admiring it as I draw back, the tightness in his jaw more pronounced and his grip at my thigh bruising.

My ears perk at the sound of the throaty rumbled murmur of my name. Stiffening as they catch the rasp underlying it, eyes drifting from his chest to the flash of fangs glinting past parted lips.

"Going to take it slow? Going to make me beg for you?" he asks, voice already laced with a roughness.

My thighs clench on either side of him, his hand unrepentant as it pushes my leg open once more, his gaze lidded as he peers at how close the two of us are, his eyes fixated on the apex of my thighs, lashes fluttering as I raise my hips and lower them directly against his stiff length, a slow grinding circle that provides no gratification, the buck of his hips rocking up, lifting off the bed, attempting to get closer, the bitten clasp of his bottom lip captive between his teeth.

There's a wild glaze of heat in his eyes as I continue to slowly suck deep flushed marks into the canvas of his torso, reddening marks that mark the trail my lips have taken over him, fingers clasping loosely around him, intent on not letting him go.

Slowly the pressure of his teeth at his lips increases.

Almost sharp enough to draw blood.

Eyes flinty and glowering.

"As fun as that sounds, I don't think I have the patience for that." I finally admit, stomach clenching and unclenching, a ripple of heat and pain briefly flickering through me.

Searing hotter at the sight of him. All marked up.

"You won't hear a complaint from me..." he lilts, the rough rasp of his voice a dragging, slow caress I can feel against the lines and curves of my body, the slowness replaced with a ringing clarity and knowledge that right now... right now I want nothing more than just him.

He groans, low and shuddered, the sound rich and deep as I lean forward, teeth against his gland, mouth closing around the soft tissue. The sharp suck of my lips and tongue against him, his scent blooming sweet in my mouth. A sticky sweetness that's laced with the same sharp arousal that's begun to prickle at my insides.

His fingers press deep, a branding touch at the soft flesh of my thigh, my own hands pressing against his sternum, a tight squeeze before he lets his hand slip away, reaching down to draw himself in line with me, my body tilting forward towards his. Rocking back at the brush of his length against my core, rocking back until he's buried to the hilt, a quiet exhale, thighs clenching tight around him. Stilling.

His hands sprawl loose against the bed, a dark gleam to his eyes as he swallows, head tilting back to bare his throat in a loose present, the glint of his gaze and the sharp tilt of his head still predatory, still appraising. His smile is tight, straining at the edges and his hands reach for my thighs, the rumble in his throat appreciative and dark and hungering when in turn my hands drift for his wrists, clutching at them. Pinning them to either side of him, the unyielding strength straining against my touch briefly, pushing at the loose restraint with a breathless grin that's all sharp around the edges.

Tail curling and swaying where it's sprawled across the bed, lazy stripey flicks, ears perked to proud, rapt attention as he flexes his wrists, testing the loose grip of my hands, reflexively in turn tightening when he playfully tries to tug himself free.

"I didn't know you had it in you tiger." sounding both utterly thrilled and delighted at the prospect, a deep rumbling chuff entangling with his words, lacing them with a giddy exuberance. The label... the title he gives is laced with arousal and accompanied with a glittering darkness to his eyes, the sight of his large hands lax and the thick strength of his forearms and biceps pinned under the considerably smaller curl of my own hands against his wrists sparks a vicious, bubbling heat that sears at skin almost painfully as I rock my hips back in deep grinding circles.

Relishing the ache in my core satiated by the unrushed and slowly building pace of our bodies entangled in one another.

His body is biologically wired to respond to my pheromones with the same intensity that continues to grow under my skin, his own scent thickening with a sharp musk that laces the saccharine honeyed sweetness to anise-berry with the faint tendrils of approaching rut. But neither does my body spiral towards the cycle, nor does he get lost in the mindlessness of it swamping our senses entirely.

But the pulsing heat that slowly begins to climb hotter and higher. There's nothing but sharp attentiveness in his gaze despite the lazy sprawl of his body, muscles deceptively loose and uncoiled. It can't however hide the strain in his tendons, the thrumming wild beat of his pulse at his throat, the cagey restlessness slowly felt in the small shifts of his hands, the curling tightness of his fingers clenching into fists.

"What? Taking what I want from you?"

And my earlier words ring in my ears, I don't have the patience to be slow and unrushed and neither does he. His hips rutting up, a sharp snap that has my hands tightening at his wrists, gripping onto him tightly for purchase.

"Oh I never doubted that, so use me as you want sweetheart."

Words drawled and confident.

His eyes gleam, a dizzying rush of endorphins pulsing through our veins, the predator-prey game, the thrill of the hunt, being on top but even so knowing that if he truly wants to, if he gets riled up enough then the positions can just as easily change.

A deep groan spills past his lips when I use my grip on his wrists, use him as an anchor grounding me, hips rocking back, pushing back for each sharp thrust for thrust, steadily building thrusts that push that scorch to climb higher, breaths turnined harried and needy. Even though the blinding haze of rut and heat have quietened, it leaves in its place a steadily built blaze that drags the two of us into its depths. Fingers pressing tighter, nails against his wrist, his body taut with tension, exertion beading at his temples.

"Be as selfish as you want. I'll give you all of it." he promises, voice a guttural rasp, timbre throaty and low and shuddering with need.

Thighs splaying wider and legs angled, a sharper rutting grind of his hips, pleasure making my spine arch, body curving closer to his, breaths harried as I chase his lips. A soft moan against the sharp nip of his fangs against my bottom lip.

It's the first instant his hands truly strain, pushing and twisting against the curl of my hands against him.

It's a brief instance where my own tighten, unwilling to relinquish the grip even if I surrender to the fiercer, deeper angle of his thrusts, thighs clenching and tightening on either side of him.

His head curves away, fangs snapping at my jaw and throat, nosing possessively along the curve of my neck, mouthing at my shoulder. The roughness of his breath against skin, the drag of heated skin against my own.

There's a sharp twist of his wrists, wrenching free of my grip encircling his, barely letting me register the sudden snap of power, the sudden loss of grip at his wrists before his hands are immediately settling to grip my hips.

A ripple of muscles and taut limbs before he twists. Roles reversed.

My back pressing against the same rumpled sheets, warm from the heat of his body, the same position reversed, hands clasped around my wrists with an ease that sears heat low in my gut.

The same dark laziness of his eyes now flaring to life, the looseness from his limbs gone, settling over me with a wicked curve to his lips.

"What happened to let me take?"

"Give and take." he corrects, hands nudging my thighs open, his pupils dilating slightly, scent spiralling with a thick intensity that makes the next breath catch in my throat.

Hands briefly squeezing against soft skin, the slow roll of his hips as he rocks forward, slowly sheathing himself in me, hands dragging from my thighs downwards, hooking under my knees, angling me wider, the deep purposeful grind drawing a punctured keen from my lips.

Eyes flashing with satisfaction.

Knowing full well how to play my body to his tune. Knowing full well how to play me to hear the sounds that only fuel and feed more and more into lust and arousal.

"Besides... you looked like you were tiring." voice softer, the glint of fangs both amused and hungry. A carnal flicker of the tiger I'm irrevocably and entirely in love with. The same tiger who unravels me now, careful, slow intentional grinding thrusts that has pleasure splintering across my skin.

But exertion gleams on his skin, in the straining effort of being gentle and slow, a self-inflicted torment that unravels the two of us further, tasting the faint tang of salt entangled with his scent, lips dragging against his collarbone, hands drawing him closer, his lips swallowed the needy whimper as the slow drag of his body slowly drawing back, the unrushed pace is shattered by a sharp, deep snap of his hips. Precise and brutal in the deep thrust, the not-knowing of the alternating pace, of the unrushed pleasure entangling with burst of visceral need that lances at him, drives him closer, body crowding mine and deeper, burying his length inside me, the air in my lungs seized and trembling.

"Never going to tire of you."

His hand is gentler against the curve of my waist, trailing upwards, his lips softer as his head tilts to press them against my temple, lingering, breathing me in. Voice hoarse with need but ringing with a coherency, a lucidness and awareness that only drives in how the rut and heat have come to settle for now. How this intoxicating haze of being lost in one another hasn't got him entirely submerged and unaware. A semi-awareness that entangles with unbridled biological want.

The small smile pressed against my cheek, curving deeper and stretching wider as Tae presses slow kiss after kiss to skin.

Tasting the haze of our pleasure on my skin.

"I promise... when we're done, tired will be a mild way to put it." a hushed vow and wicked promise murmured into the curve of my shoulder.

The large sprawl of his hands guide my hips to meet the force of his thrusts, my hips pushing up, my legs crooked up so he can thrust deeper and quicker, broken noises punctured past seizing lungs, a litany of half sounds and cries as I rock my hips back with quick burning impatience. Lost in the consuming want to thoroughly take.

The tiger that'd been simmering under the surface is being reeled out, scent sharpening and lungs stained with pure predator pheromones that brand me from the inside with every inhale of his berry-sweet scent.

The approaching heat of rut makes the press of his body to mine, the grip of hands to leave the brand of his fingerprints and palms behind, melding to flesh. Hips rocking back to his with a feverish impatience, every breath, every move harried. Every inhale laced with thickening arousal, a cloying intensity that grows. Low appreciative groans rippling in the air, gaze transfixed on me, hand drawing my legs up, keeping them angled open, every rock of his hip fuelling that aching need, body wracked with jolts of sharp blinding pleasure. Every sense is overwhelmed with the carnal hunger that gnaws at me.

"Going to keep me caged then?" I muse, voice hitching at the sudden nip against the curve of my arm.

"Until you're bred." the words tight and rumbling with sharp predatory need, fangs at my skin, body crowding mine to keep me tightly pressed against the sheets, caging me in until all my senses know, all I know is his name. Spilling over and over from my lips.

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

My eyes track the movements from the instant my ears flicker at the soft tread of paws padding forward, head tilting towards the door, lips curving at the sight of my large tiger, thick fur and all rippling strength quietly padding forward, carrying between his fangs a punnet.

Pace quickening when he spots my gaze on him, a rumbled chuff as he moves quickly, the pounce onto the bed seamless and without pause, mattress dipping as big paws sink into the bed.

Head dipping low to gently set the punnet onto my stomach, fangs unclenching their grip, tilting to me to rub his cheek against mine. Thick fur against skin, the full-body droop as my hand settles in his fur, scratching at the tuft of fur under his chin, deep thorough rubs and scratches that coax a deep rumble that sinks into skin.

Gently nudging at my hand towards the punnet, eyes bright and gleaming.

Distinctly preening at the large punnet of strawberries he proffers to me.

But he doesn't dive in for them, doesn't let his fangs sink into the soft ripe fruit, nudging and waiting, steering me to reach for them, nudging at my hand, fur tickling against skin until I take the first bite.

Sweet and ripe and bursting on my tongue as my teeth sink into the fruit, big kitten lick as he leans close to chase the small rivulet of berry trickling between my fingers, eagerly crowding me to both tend and keep nudging me to eat.

The punnet is large, and the small cartoon tiger sticky note, one of the others must've drawn, I pluck from it gets stained red incidentally, berry juice at the corners, hand moving to set it on the table, my very real, my very furry tiger demanding on my senses. Berry-stained fangy smile that's immediately discernible, the sight of large fangs comforting and affectionate. Far, far from the threat everyone could see my apex predator as.

"Big baby. The drawing got your fangs right." I tease, poking at one large fang then the other, finger against the sharp tip of them.

He chuffs, playfully snapping at air before he nudges his head against my hand.

For more berries.

More berries for me. More berries for him.

Only satisfied and berry-stained fur around his fangs when the punnet is empty, head rising after diving for the last few, chuffs and berry scent sweet, large rasping kitten licks that make me squirm, ducking away with a laugh. His body tilting to follow, paws fumbling for me, trying to tug me to sprawl on my back again.

Kitten licks against skin, ticklish and ever-affectionate, chuffing at how easily he crowds my body with his significantly larger frame. No true means of escape.

His chuffs entangling with laughs, the air almost thrumming with the welling waves of giddiness that spill between us, pheromones saturating the air with a sweet cloud of sugary contentedness.

Yelping when the paws trying to nudge me into place, keep me sprawled under him change tactics and instead he bodily sprawls over me. Making it impossible to move.

To even consider being anywhere but entirely flush and sandwiched under soft, thick fur. Fingers reaching to rub at the thick white fur of his underbelly, delighted squirms and rumbles that soak into my limbs. That meld with my giddy pulse that beats more erratically at the vicinity of my mate. Entirely pinned under him but very comfortably so.

"Always one for the action aren't you?"

Chuuuuuuuuuuff.

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

There's a laziness in the heat that burns under my veins, indulgent in sinking in, no rush, a slow fuzzy warmth that seeps over my limbs, the faint stirrings of my biology shifting towards another cycle. But it's neither a strong need nor is it something I can't overlook, body stirring from the bed, the room not as hot and crowded with our scents.

I don't know how many days have passed, how much time has blurred together, don't know how long it's been since we'd gone to bed, eyes drifting to take in Tae, still asleep, half-burrowed into the blankets, curls sprawled over the pillows, arm loose around me.

His hold is loose enough I can slip away from it, lips curving up when he unconsciously stirs, a half-mumble on his lips, absently reaching out for me. Coaxed back to sleep before his eyes begin blinking open, lazy flutters of his lashes stilling as I quietly nudge the pillow into his reach. Watch as he curls his arms around it, drawing it to his chest, head ducking so his nose is half-burrowed into it, still warm from where I'd been curled on it. Scent carrying the strongest on the pillow, settling my tiger back to sleep.

Waking not in a cycle or progressing quickly towards it, waking with my mind coherent and thoughts lucid is different. The deeply satiated ache that pulses through my hips downwards is only one of the countless reminders of how thoroughly Tae had taken care of me. How thoroughly he'd tended to every need, every plea with a burning intensity that still leaves heat pooling at the mere thought of him.

Eyes dragging over the bare lines and curve of his shoulders and arms taut with muscle, the thick definition of his bicep, curved with definition even if his body is sprawled loose across the bed, breaths deep and even. Gaze lingering over the faint red lines from his shoulders down his back, where my fingers had clawed at him for purchase, had been desperate to mark him in the same way he had done to me.

It's still early enough, sunlight weak and barely filtering through the curtains, but my mind feels awake, body rested and feeling more my own than it has this entire heat and rut.

It's early but time has blurred, lost its meaning from the first snarled growl that still echoes in my ears and the wild primal hunger that had darkened brown eyes with need. Time's been lost and long since relinquished to Tae. It's early but day and night have been lost to each other and when it's the most aware I've felt in days as I slowly sit upright. Eyes slowly raking over Tae with an appreciative heat that flickers slowly, dull embers pulsing softly at the sight of broad shoulders and the honeyed expanse of his back tapering inwards. It's the most aware and in control I feel over my hunger and desire for the tiger stretched out across the sheets, a slumbering predator who has no idea the tables have turned.

A flickering amusement curling through thoughts, seeping into the warmth that pulses in the back of my mind, hindbrain entirely and thoroughly occupied with the thought of teasing the asleep tiger, quiet, slow movements as I lightly tug at the sheets, watch as they slip off the dip of his spine, the soft squirm as he absently stirs. His tail wiggling at the base of his spine.

My head tilts in curious examination, fingers curling and uncurling, restlessly hovering before I lean over, padding forward the small stretch until I'm half hovered over him, thighs straddling the low of his, fingers teasing against the sleepy wiggle of his tail, slowly circling closer and closer to the base of his tail.

Even if he's entirely unaware, I know I'm purposely baiting a tiger, purposely poking a sleeping beast, but the mix of amusement and teasing playfulness nudges me along, fingers brushing against soft, stripey fur fleetingly.

Nails slowly brushing against the low of his spine, inching closer and closer to the base of his tail, leaning forward, weight straddling him, lips curved at the small curls and sway of his tail, sensing my touch.

I almost... almost feel bad, but his tail continues to sway, its tip still hidden and tucked under the sheets, so eagerly responsive even if his scent remains heavy with sleep, body unmoving save for the small unconscious shifts.

Tug.

There's an instant... one sole instant where my fingers remain curled in fur, lips curved in a grin when the air rumbles with the weight of a loud, full-throated growl.

The sound playful, utterly different to the dark feral tiger who'd prowled close and loomed, had crowded against me, fangs against my skin and taken.

This sound is distinctly different. If the low rich baritone of his voice could be intertwined with a deep throaty laugh and the sound was utterly tiger... that's what the growl sounds like.

Rich sinful amusement.

"Getting to third base without me? All handsy without letting me join the fun?"

My laugh is startled and short, breath shuddering past my parted lips, eyes widening as my gaze drifts from the broad expanse of his back to where under mussed curls, the tiniest slither of a feline slitted gaze, his eyes straying to try catalogue my position on him. The curl of a lazy, slow smirk tugging at his lips, the flash of fangs peeking, glinting... a reminder of the predator I've roused.

"Were you awake the entire time?"

His chest rumbles, the chuff full of amusement.

Tail curling and swaying, the tip of it somewhere under the sheets trying to poke at me.

"You'll find that I'm a deep sleeper unless I have an in-heat fawn. But even then I didn't wake until she decided to wake me by teasing my tail." Words slowly drawled out, thick with a low husky rasp that laces each words, underlying them with the bite of a growl that bleeds into his baritone timbre regardless.

"Ahhh... who knew all it took was a few touches to wake a tiger? Guess I know how to get you out of bed—"

The rough rasp of his laughter sends shivers dancing down my spine, thighs clenching on either side of him at the rich heady sound.

"I never said it got me out of bed. After all—you can't expect to start playing games and not let me have my own fun? You can't expect my prey to decide to toy with her predator and not share the fun with me?"

The silently coiling tension in his body doesn't go unmissed, spine stiffening under my touch, body a taut bowstring that seems to wait for the right moment to snap, for the pressure to unleash. A sharp hiss slipping past his lips, fangs sinking in, sharp against the plush curve of his bottom lip. The slither of his gaze I can see is alert. A predator lying in wait.

Waiting for my next move.

Waiting to spring his.

Hips rutting against the sheets, my thighs tightening, astride his hips, hand dragging from the base of his spine to let my fingers circle where his tail almost trembles with tightly-coiled anticipation. My skin buzzing with a flushed heat that has nothing to do with the biological needs, a faint distant thought, and everything to do with how the tables have turned. Nails slowly trailing downwards, fingers grazing closer to his tail, his sharp snapped growl both warning and rippling with pure molten heat.

"Trying well to rile a tiger back into rut?"

I shake my head.

"Having my fun to make at least some part of your rut where you thrash for me."

There's a sharp musky edge to his berry-sweet scent, arousal and something pure predator seeping into his pheromones, his hand reaching back to nudge against my knee, a sudden sharp push that has my leg splayed open wider, the looser straddle allowing for his tail to brush and curl underneath the sheets and then wiggle out, poking against my thighs- the brush of warm soft fur a taunting, teasing reminder of his touch against bruised thighs.

"Well... have your fun little fawn. Have your fun before it's my turn." Words drawled out, his body a carelessly loose sprawl, hand moving to brush his curls aside, moving them from how they obscure his vision, long fingers briefly entangling with dark curls.

My head tilts, lips curling into a grin.

Leaning over so that he's caged under my body, his head tilting to take me in, the sharp tinge to his scent strengthening, his head tilting, the brush of curls against my wrist, fangs slowly scraping against my skin.

"With pleasure."

Lips drifting to brush against his nape, relishing in the quiet, lazy intimacy, in indulging without heat or rut hastening every movement, without a clawing impatience making every move rushed and unrestrained. Lips parting to let my tongue flick against his skin, teeth nipping slightly, trailing lower and lower, hands brushing down his sides, touches appreciative and lingering against the knowledge of muscles hidden under soft skin. Slowly mapping a trail of kisses down his spine, body slowly hovering lower and lower, smiles pressed to his back as he begins to squirm under me.

The soft exhales gratifying... to hear how the slowly bubbling pleasure begins to affect him, body beginning to squirm. The slow grinding rut of his hips against the sheet to add to the stimulation, my hand curving around his hip, squeezing as I let my lips hover a slither of space above the base of his tail. Lips lingering there, open-mouthed kisses that slowly... slowly inch the barest distance down, the sharper grind of his hips laced with a deeper restlessness.

"(Y/N)..."

My name is a warning hovering on his lips.

A warning there's no need to heed.

Fingers trailing lower, brushing against the sheets, drawing them away from him, eyes raking over warm golden skin, over the lines of his legs stretching out, tail swaying and curling behind him, a slow predatory intent in it.

But still he waits.

And the patience and restraint he shows is remarkable, already missing straddling him, hands nudging him to turn onto his back, throat bobbing as I swallow at the sight of him.

The overproduction of his hormones, of his biology working in overdrive have his body responding at fleeting touches, his length already stiff and hard.

"With just my lips? Rut's not being kind to you is it Tae?"

Instead, his lips crease into a coy grin.

"My body's primed and ready for you, trust me... your lips on me outside of rut would do the same."

The flushed warmth and satisfaction that pools low in my gut betrays itself in my scent, ears standing tall.

"You like that." He states, eyes dragging down my front, gaze darkening at the sight of me equally as bare, finally letting his eyes rove over me. A hungering gleam making his irises darken, body stiff as he takes me in, the intensity of his stare felt like the weight of his hands trailing over my body, his eyes dragging lines and curves of heat where they trail, lingering at my throat, at my curves, settling on the apex of my thighs.

"Like knowing the effect you have on me. It turns you on." Voice rumbling with truth, the words spilling past his lips, his hands pushing himself upright under my eyes, drawing himself up to lean against the headboard, legs parting slightly as he reclines, lips curled with wicked mirth. Tugging a smile at my lips, leaning forward to half-hover over him, his eyes dragging down to skim down my throat, down to my breasts, his fingers reflexively curling into the sheets.

A tiger with sheathed claws hidden under the surface.

Reigning in the instinct to pounce.

Wonder how long for... how long he'll be able to curb need.

"Of course it does. Your scent changes too. When you reach your peak, when you make me reach mine." Words lilted, quieter, hushed and charged words that crackle in the air between us.

He can't see it, but I can feel the way my tail flicks up and down at the predatory weight of his stare, can feel how his biology makes me own burn, a searing burning crescendo of instincts and needs warring and entangling.

His gaze makes me feel hunted, but the loose coil of his body is of a tiger yet to make his move. The anticipation makes my blood buzz, veins alight with flickering heat, the tightening coil of anticipatory silence.

My hand smoothening over his thigh, trailing inwards to map out the same spots where my own are marked, nails skimming against the sensitive inner flesh, fingers pressing harder as they trail upwards.

The clench of muscles stiffening under my palm, a quiet rough sigh, legs shifting wider in invite, his length already stiff and hard, his hand reaching to satisfy the ache, to curl the large sprawl of his palm and long fingers around him, to thrust loosely into the fist of his hand curved around him.

My hand reaches out to draw his away, meeting the silent questioning of his gaze before the corners of his mouth curve up, redirecting his touch to crook his fingers under my jaw, angling my face up as I move to kneel between his splayed legs, spreading wider to accommodate me easily between them.

The drag of his thumb slow against my bottom lip, sweeping against soft, giving flesh so many times willingly surrendering to the heat of his mouth, bruised by the shape of his lips imprinted against my own. Sometimes my own melding to his with a carnal, vicious hunger and heat that clawed at me from the inside and only settled with his body caging mine, his touches rough and sharp and his lips branded with my claim seared across them. Until they were red, slick and swollen.

"You're so beautiful cub." Voice low and throaty with praise.

"Charming me so I'll get my lips back on you quicker?" I laugh, his thumb pressing to my lip, breath warm against his skin, eyes turning dark.

"Wasn't my intention, I was going to be good for you. But... accusing my appreciation for my mate as charm..." faux-disappointment laced into his tone, eyes glittering with amusement and simmering heat, contemplating... thinking.

Hand angling my jaw up for him, the crackle of heat burning stronger as our eyes meet, holding my gaze, rooting it to him.

"So now? Not going to lie pretty for me? To let me take care of you too." Words soft and low, the flick of my tongue darting out to brush against my lips, grazing against his thumb, the flicker of hunger rearing its head, sharp and sudden in his eyes.

A strained breath as he leans back, a struggle visible in his fingers unfurling and falling away, the muscles in his thighs clenching and tightening, coiling up as I let my head dip lower, ducking to nose along his thighs, teeth gently scraping against the inside of his thigh, fingers curling tighter into his thighs, grinning against skin at the rough need in his tremble.

"(Y/N)..."

"Yes Tae?" words murmured against skin, teeth sinking in sharper to clamp down on skin, tongue flicking over the faint indents, lips and tongue lathing attention to it, softly pressing open-mouthed kisses to the faint red mark against honeyed skin.

Admiring the small mark against his skin, relishing in the chance in reciprocating, in getting to leave my claim too, the scent of his arousal sharp.

Finger brushing over the mark, the faint floral sweetness clinging to it.

Identifying it... broadcasting it as mine.

But my name slips past his lips once more, the sound rasped out, name trembling as it hovers in the air, my lips trailing upwards, fingers curling into his thigh.

"How close do you feel to rut Tae?"

Eyes lingering at the clench of his stomach, abdominal muscles tightening as my lips ghost along his length, lips brushing against the tip, a featherlight pressure before it retreats.

Knuckles whitening where his hands curl against the sheets, taut with a pressure I can't even begin to imagine.

His scent is sharp and thick, the sweet berry scent tart with the approaching intensity of his rut.

I know he's not there yet... but I also know there's no telling just how quick his scent could spiral, how quickly the temporarily gradual rise in his pheromones could spike and plunge within moments into a rut.

And that uncertainty, the lack of knowledge whether his rut will slam in with the most fleeting, lightest of touches with barely any teasing or whether it could be reeled out of him. Drawn out of him without any rush hastening the morning, without anything demanding his attention more than my touch slowly coaxing burning embers to roaring flames to a scorching inferno... that uncertainty makes my veins buzz with exhilaration.

Not knowing just how close of an edge he was teetering over, not knowing when he'd fall off the precipice.

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

The fingers entangled in my hair do nothing more than tighten for a few moments, my eyes dragging upwards from the plane of his stomach, watching it clench tight, upwards to pebbled nipples stiff with arousal and the strong, thick column of his throat, watching the motion of it as he swallows, his glands puffy and swollen, scent pouring off him in thick rivulets.

Steadily... steadily his scent mounts higher and higher towards that breaking point, of where coherency will melt away and nothing, but rut will remain again, his rough groans an intoxicating lure that beckons the simmering heat in my veins to flare.

"Stop teasing me...I want..." He grits out, teeth tightly clenched, the muscle in his jaw ticking, eyes burning with a primal hunger that gnaws at him from the inside, his hands tightly clenching the sheets, forcing down the urge to yank me forward. To sink his fangs into my lips.

As if holding back is torture but as if the restraint is a test, a challenge for himself... as if he's waiting so he can reap his patience's reward by pouncing.

"You think this does nothing for me? You want...?" I ask, my thighs rubbing together, trying to alleviate even a fraction of the pressure, of the ache growing in my core, restlessly stirring, lips mouthing at him.

His scent making my own sweeten with need.

I don't know whether the teasing, the slowly reeled out pleasure will get to me first.

"I want to taste you too."

Arousal pools low in my core at his words, at the raw need in it. As if he can't be without.

Lips parting to sink around him once more, mouth lowering to take him deeper, groaning around him at his words, his fingers tightening in my hair, hips bucking upwards, rocking deeper into my mouth. His groan entangling with mine, heavy with desire, tongue brushing against him, breath shaking as I duck my head lower, let the tight clench of his hand in my hair guide me forward, hips rocking himself deeper, throat constricting around him. A low groan that emanates from deep in my throat, that has his nails dragging against my scalp, a curse and praise both on his tongue, the ever-sweetening richness of his scent as I work him towards another peak. His length still achingly hard despite the fact that he's spilled his release down my throat twice already, his temples gleaming with sweat, thighs trembling even as he continues to buck his upwards. Chasing the pleasure, chasing the heat of my tongue and lips swallowing down his taste, reeling out another peak, hand dragging upwards, feeling the way his torso shifts, the clasp of his hand curling around mine almost immediately. Abandoning the tight clench he has on the sheets under him to claw at me, fingers curling around my hand and gripping me tight, breaths shuddered, the rasp of expletives on his tongue making my body almost dizzy with pleasure.

Drawing off him with an uneven breath, inhales and exhales light and wavery, his other hand still entangled in my hair, stilling as he looks at me, the flutter of his lashes a minute movement that my eyes fixate on. Determined to not miss a single change in his expression, in the small quiet shifts in his features as his body coils up once more.2

"Later." I promise, his words still ringing in my ears, an aching soreness in my throat that I all too welcome, lips slick and swollen, tingling with pressure, his eyes drifting instead to the apex of my thighs. To the way I shift restlessly, dark gaze rooted to the sight, tail curling as he watches me. There's a dazed heat in his eyes and with every single release, his scent has only becoming cloyingly thicker on my tongue, a heady taste that entangles with the physical peak of his arousal, throat stained... claimed by his pleasure.

Fingers dragging down his front, drawing with it, the tight clasp of his hand still clutching mine, stomach clenching as my nails drag against it, watching as my hand encircles him once more but this time he guides the pace. His hand closed over mine, rutting into my palm with his hand controlling the tightness of my palm around him, fingers tightening when his in turn curl against mine. The pressure of his touch, of his hand moulding mine to his length, eyes burning heat into my skin with how intently he watches me, watches his length drag against my skin, thumbing at the tip, smearing arousal across it, a soft shaky groan as I lean forward to let my tongue flick against it, mouth bobbing lower when his hand guides mine down, the combined sensation of skin against skin, of my lips and tongue against stiff arousal makes his scent pool on my tongue. Heady and heavy.

Intoxicating with how thick it blooms.

"I'll be sure to return the pleasure tenfold." He groans, head sinking back, leaning against the headboard, gaze lidded as he peers at me from lowered lashes, eyes glittering black with lust and carnal desire.

"So committed to pleasuring aren't you tiger?" words rough against his skin, the faintest drag of teeth that has him hissing, his hand around mine tightening, the one in my hair clenching tight, fisting into my strands, tugging me deeper, guiding my head down, controlling every movement, using me to pleasure him.

There's something about the lazy sprawl of his body, the tight coil of his muscles hidden under an easy splay, the commandeering weight of his touch and gaze that compels me, that makes my core heat and arousal slick the inside of my thighs without his touch on me.

"I could drown in all those pretty noises you make cub... why wouldn't I get turned on at seeing what a sweet mess I make of you too?"

Another pulse of arousal.

I can feel the way the inside of my thighs are slick with it. The way his words make me clench around nothing.

By his words alone, by his stare alone.

The curve of his smile deepens, scent flaring as he registers mine.

"The things your scent alone does to me (Y/N)..."

My scent brought him into rut... snapped him into one.

And even if I don't know why, don't know how... don't know what pushed my body into a heat. Spiralling into the same messy want and need as him... my scent has ruined him.

And the way he's drenched with it, claimed by it brings no little satisfaction, instincts relishing in it, mind grasping onto the fact and holding it close.

Mouth dipping lower in lieu of answer, tongue curling around him, cheeks hollowing as I swallow around him, constricting throat tightening the pressure he feels around his length. His pleasure, his arousal is almost sharp with a violent animalistic tinge to it. Approaching closer and closer to rut.

And there's no finesse and no gentleness in the sharp snap of his hips thrusting deeper, choking out a moan around him, my scent spiralling into a thick cloying intensity at how my scent now, how me kneeling between his legs, curved over him, hand gripping him tight until he wrenches mine away, still gripping onto me tightly as he continues to grind deep, deep, deeper into my mouth... I undo him.

There's a rough urgency bleeding into his movements, and my palm slick with his arousal is tugged back so he can rut deeper into my mouth, sheathing himself entirely in the slick heat of lips and tongue that go lax, groaning around him, breath caught in my lungs, no way to dispel it as the snap of his hips become carnal. Nothing but chasing the release that his scent plummets towards, trying to relax my throat, eyes stinging at the sudden sharpness of his pace, at the way his hand drags down my jaw to angle my face up.

Compelling me... commanding me to hold his eyes as he fucks into my mouth over and over, his pupils blown wide and fangs glinting, every bit the predator, every muscle tensing as his body locks up, eyes glittering sharply as I hold his gaze with a blurring vision, tears welling in my waterline, a dizzying new rush of pleasure at surrendering the control in letting him use my throat to accelerate closer and closer to that peak.

That with its release I know he'll be drowned into the next cycle of his rut, can feel the way my body goes lax, hands curling into his thighs, hand in my hair tugging me forward to meet each thrust fully, breaths wavering and caught in my lungs.

And now he chases it with wild, reckless abandon, his eyes reflecting just how lost he is to it and in turn how lost I am to him, breaths sharp and shaking as he draws off, swallowing down air to replenish trembling lungs, hands curling tighter into his thighs.

A rasped, keening whine of a breath that hovers on my lips before he bucks his hips forward once more, burying his length in the heat of my mouth.

My eyes branded with the sight of his stomach clenching tightly, the sharp jut of his hipbone, the strain of his thigh muscles under my hands, the curl of his fingers that tug me down further and then his scent. Flooding my senses, release spilling down my throat, the sharp groan that ripples in the air, that makes it shatter under the weight of my tiger growling, my name lost in the heady moan, every inch of his body tightening and coiling only to go lax.

Breath trying to even, throat swallowing around him, his hand not loosening but drawing me up and off, breaths hitching and eyes holding his, body trembling

A rasped, keening whine when he draws away, hand curling tight around himself in attempt to stave off the peak he's reaching, surging forward for me with a growl, movements impatient and rough, his hand unfurling from my hair only to push me towards the bed, a hand against the low of my spine that nudges me into place. The drag of his palm rough and harried.

The bed dips as his hands tug and manoeuvre me into place for him, a blur of movement that I don't even get to process before his hands are at my hips, hand pushing at the low of my spine to force my front down.

It's barely seconds before the same release he was going to spill down my throat, spills against the low of my back, against the curve of my backside, his groans rippled and raw.

Hand gentler as it unfurls from my hair, drifting lower to clasp at my nape, body sinking closer and closer to him, arms trembling as my hands reach for him, lips bruised and slick and throat raw, still feeling the weight of him on my tongue even as he draws me away. Draws me to him.

But the overproduction of breeding pheromones seeping between us keeps him hard and stiff with a painful need to satiate the once again restless instincts. And my thighs are slick even as he guides me onto his lap, hands clasping at his forearms, lips pressing messy kisses to his skin, leaving the entangled mess of our pheromones on his torso. Wherever my mouth can reach.

Hands curling tight against his shoulders when I feel him guide his length to my core, no respite, no breaths spared and no reprieve from the need beginning to lance at my skin.

"Tae... I need you. Tae I need you." words hushed and raw and pleading, groaning against his shoulder as he guides my hips down, sinking around him.

It feels like I'm drowning. Lost in the pleasure that's barely begun and yet already sweeps over me in crashing waves. It feels like I'll suffocate on this feeling, throat clogged with his scent and body begging for more.

His hand at my nape tugs me forward, until our foreheads are resting together, breaths wavering and uneven as the two of us lose ourself to biology once more, lips a hairsbreadth apart before I lean closer, lips against his.

A silent plea, a hunger in the press of my mouth slotting to his.

"You have me... you always have me." Voice rough against my lips.

Fingers dragging against my gland. And with the pressure of his thumb digging into soft tissue, swallows the cry with his tongue and lips.

The vow uttered against my mouth and sealed with the brand his leaves against mine.

And I lose myself to him. To his rut. To my heat once again.

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

The torturously slow drag is almost as much of a painful pleasure as the rough snap of his hips driving me closer and closer to another peak is.

My vision blurs, the sight of him crowding against me, tongue and lips soft against my cheeks, kissing away the tears that spill down my cheeks, trailing down to swallow the soft cries of his name against his mouth, hands painstakingly slow as his rut begins to calm, drawing me closer with the same bubbling need to bury himself under my skin, to be as close as he physically can and then some.

Head swimming with the constant flux of scent that overwhelms my senses, traps them entirely in a hazing fog of saccharine sweet berry, ripe and sweet and bursting.

"Tae..." his name is wrenched past my lips, trembles in the air, in the small space between us with the weight of a plea and want in them, body twisting futilely under him. Whether it's to chase more or whether it's to escape the slowly burning torment of his touch, hips rutting deep, grinding circles into me, thighs trembling with the ache burning in my core. With how much he's giving but all the same how slowly he gives, teetering off the edge but never plummeting into it, drawn over and over to the peak of shattering pleasure for him to steal it, for him to deny it, cheeks flushed and heated, burning further where tears spill against them, lips chasing them away, a faint smile—mocking and knowing all too well as he continues to buck his hips forward, slowly sheathing himself before drawing away. A dizzying slowness that makes the heat under my skin thrash for more. But he doesn't give it.

Not immediately.

The biological need to be taken care of, to be bred thoroughly has barely quietened. But the mischief and heat and fire in his eyes didn't quieten with the rut cycle coming to an end.

He looks ruined just as much as I am.

He is ruined.

The thought filters through the growing pulse of scents, filters through the numbing ache for more, hands tugging impatiently at him, winding into curls, harsh and needing, lips trembling against his. Unspoken pleas muffled against the curve of his mouth, tongue chasing his.

More.

"I'll take care of you cub." Words low and promising, murmured against the corner of my lips, echoed with the steady, torturously slow buck of his hips rocking himself further and further.

Tears clinging to my lashes, body trembling with the constant pleasure it was being swamped with but never truly given in its entirety.

"Just want you like this.... A little bit longer." Words hushed, a plea filtering through the heavy intensity of his gaze.

Silently, I nod, acquiescing to the rawness in his gaze that's all too real and all too different from rut, a punishing slowness that he relishes in even if his face is just as flushed, body taut as he forces himself to clasp me gentler, lighter.

Reigning back the tiger inside, tenderness in every touch.

But even so... the tiger is still there.

And with every punctured breath, shaky and muffled against his skin, nails dragging from his scalp to his nape, sinking tighter into skin, hips rocking back to try meet each thrust for thrust... there is a distinct awareness that this tiger... this tiger is toying with his prey.

Playing with his hunt.

And lulling me into a softness that drowns out everything else for a moment of when he'll snap, when restraint will vanish.

But until then... my tiger tries.

Hungering for a torture that he inflicts on himself just as much, but one that rewards both of us with the sweetening, thickening pulses of scent. No longer clogged with breeding pheromones but the intense weight of desire and love and need is just as heady and enthralling.

Just as entirely consuming.

"Just want to remember my rut like this too." Voice breathless against my skin, lips marking their trail from my jaw downwards, a softer growl rippling against skin as his curls brush against skin, my hand guiding and coaxing him closer.

His mouth trailing lower and lower, fainter, softer nibbles of his teeth and fangs at marks that have thoroughly... repeatedly been lathed attention to over and over, keeping the reds and purples scattered the lines and dips of my body with a rich vibrancy. Body marked with the thorough attention of my mate reaffirming his touch over and over, fainter lighter marks blooming in the wake of his teeth gently sinking into the curve of my breast, hand drifting up to slowly squeeze at my waist, drifting upwards so he can work one stiff bud between the pads of his fingers, intent to leave them achingly stimulated, breath hot against one, tongue flicking against his efforts, rewarded with the keening whine that slips past my lips, back arching upwards. Desperate for his touch, desperate for more.

"Been so good for me, so good to me this entire time..." praise murmured against skin, accompanied with the burning heat of his lips trailing lower, body curved over mine, my hand dragging down his back, the fever-damp skin scorching against my touch, a soft hiss that's punctuated with a sharper thrust, eyes dark as he peers at me from where his mouth hovers over the taut bud, chest heaving for breath.

The impatient heat coils tighter at his gaze, trying to tug him closer, a frustrated whimper when he doesn't immediately tighten his grip, when he seems content in letting the languid pace drive me further and further to a brink he has no intention of letting me fall off.

Breaths shallow pants as I look at him, at my tiger mate.

His eyes flashing with warning and challenge as I twist under him, trying to rock my hips back to take him deeper, to take what he won't give.

His hands move to keep my thighs pinned open when I try wind them around him, a soft groan as I push at his shoulder.

"Are you trying to start something?" words laced with the faint remnants of a growl.

Eyes narrowing.

My body twists on the sheets, desperation in my movements.

Words slipping past my lips, breathless and provoking.

"Is mating me going to be just trying to? Just attempts? Not going to do it properly?"

The tightness in his spine, in his back can be felt immediately, the sharper spike to his pheromones as his fangs pool over his lips, mouth still hovering over my chest, fingers reflexively tightening at my hip. Almost bruising.

"Oh? I haven't done a good job? Haven't taken care of you properly? Been lacking? You sure you want to play these games?" the rasp of his voice deepens, the thick heaviness of his already low voice deepening into something rich and husky and dangerous.

His eyes glint. He knows exactly the effect my words have. He knows the bait my words act as.

And he walks right into the trap. And takes me with him.

Don't goad a slumbering tiger.... Don't rile a rutting predator...

Too late.

"I'll play any game that means I play with you tiger... I'll play if it means a tiger will bite."

The smile he gives me is all carnal and no warmth. Sharp and predatory.

"Oh sweetheart when I give you my bite... when we're on the other side of this week... everyone will be able to smell you're mine before they see how pretty my bite looks on you. And every single time they'll see the bite... they'll remember just how you smelt after your heat with every inch of you claimed. You don't need to play games for what you're promised to get."

But he still doesn't give... not at the pace I want him to.

But there's a sharper edge to every thrust, a growing roughness that makes my body keen and want, putty in his hands, his hands finding my wrists with a growled rumble, drawing mine away when I reach for him.

Fangs snapping, grip bruising as he pins my wrists to the bed, head tilted as he appraises me, tongue flicking against the tip of his fangs.

"You don't get to touch now (Y/N)... all you have to do now is take cub."

"I want—"

"I'll give you everything you want cub."

"My tiger."

"Yours... yours. Your tiger."

There's my tiger.

There in the tightening grip on my wrists, hands encircling skin, branding the smaller glands with the entire force of his scent.

But his hands tight around my wrists, keeping them anchored against the bed, lets me draw him closer, legs curling around him, banding around his thighs, tugging him closer, drawing him deeper, the sharper angle, the deeper thrust draws a sharp moan from deep inside my chest, a low rippled groan from him, eyes flaring slightly with surprise before his fingers flex. Tightening his grip, drawing my wrists from either side of me to pin above my head, a feral gleaming hunger licking at my skin with how he looks at me.

Body pinned and taking, thighs locking tighter around his waist even as I feel my thighs tremble from oversensitivity, wishing I could draw him impossibly closer. Hungering for him to just sink into my skin and meld himself entirely to me. His fingers press tighter against my skin, knowing all too well that his scent is branded across the smaller, discrete glands. Knowing that even when he'll eventually draw his grip away, there'll be scent claims left behind in the bracelet of his fingers leave behind, his weight shifting to remove one hand. Wrists crossed and restrained under the sprawl of one palm instead, my fingers curling into themselves at the display of strength, breath stuttering at the ease in the movement. Throat bobbing as his hand bears down the pressure of his weight on my crossed wrists more tightly, his free hand brushes against my jaw. A possessiveness in the graze of fingers tipping my jaw up, keeping my throat arched for him, nose ducking to roughly scent along the line of my throat downwards, fangs and teeth nipping at skin, leaving more scattered marks in his wake. Tongue flicking against my pulse point, grin curving against the curve of my neck, swallowing tightly at his touch, at how much his hand restraining my movement, restraining the ability to move and tug him closer, unable to do anything, back arching as he continues to rock his hips deeper, length burying itself further into me. My body betraying just how much his body crowding mine makes my scent thicken. Smelling how much it makes my scent turn cloying with arousal, turning sweeter. Sticky anise, floral notes strong, the perfumed heaviness of my desire thick on his tongue, the groan of appreciation rumbled against my skin. The wet heat of Tae's tongue lathes over the bite marks that indicate their trail downwards to his destination, mouth closing around my gland as he continues to thrust, sharp erratic thrusts that grind deep, hips circling as he rocks forward. Hand angling my jaw and the other keeping the futile twist of my wrists trapped under his palm.

The same teetering precipice he's kept me on for an indecipherable blur of time sparks up again, a fanning heat low in my gut that blooms into a blaze.

The quietened heat seems to flare under his touch, coaxed back at his touch, at the fog that grows, crowding against my senses, a proud, possessive claim in his touch keeping my head tilted back, hands going lax under his touch, thighs trembling as my back arches up, bowing off the sheets, restless and needing.

Just as how I'd drawn out his rut, the glinting hunger in his eyes is all I can focus on, the lazy quirk to smirking, wicked lips as he raises his head to look at me. Desperate and intent to drink down every expression.

And slowly, the closer my body chases the peak of that release taunted and dangled in front of me... that same release is now all my senses narrow down to, a constant overwhelming flux of stimulation that demands every inch of me to the tiger caging me under him.

It begins to feel like I'm suffocating in my own skin, as if our bodies fuse together with the heat that lances at skin, desperate to find refuge in the inferno that engulfs each other. Only realising that the blistering, bubbling want consumes us both. Mindless to think of anything but surrendering to it. To each other.

"I don't want you to be slow and sweet with me. I want to remember how you feel in me, how it feels to have a tiger blindly take. I don't want you to take your time, I want you to take me, your prey now that I'm caught. Now that I'm yours. Breed me like you won't settle for anything but me being full of your kits." The words tremble past my lips, laced with unadulterated want, so desperate and aching for it that it almost hurts to be denied of everything but my desires and wishes that spill past my tongue, begging for everything he has to give and more.

And any other day, any day outside of heat, any instant in time I would take the slow unrushed intent of him slowly taking me apart, of putting me back together with the same unrushed careful precision of committing every single inch of me to his memory. But today... in this instant the slow rock of his hips as he buries himself deeper and deeper isn't enough. It isn't enough to satiate the burning coils of heat that wind tighter, frustrated at the slow drag of his hips, slow deep thrusts sparking pleasure but not enough to fill, to satisfy that feeling of being full and taken and mindless from it. Any other time the slow intensity would make me fall apart but right now I wanted... needed to fall apart because there was too much without pause or break. The ragged breaths waver as he looks at me, hands dragging down my sides before drawing my thighs around him, the curve of a wicked smirk playing at his lips, a coherency that I can't find in the unfiltered pleas for more, rocking my hips to each thrust to try tug him closer, deeper.

My eyes sting as I steadily get closer and closer, hips bucking with a frantic need, trying to get more, hands twisting to try propel myself quicker to that edge and off it. His hand tightening in response.

My lips part, desperation ready to let the begging plea tumble past my tongue when the next snap of his hips is sharper, rougher. The languid slow thrusts turning deeper, quicker as his eyes darken, lust and arousal clouding his mind, snared in it just as deeply as I am. His hand reaches to grip at my thigh, tugging at it until I'm locking my legs around his waist with an even more tighter and unyielding lock of my body to his, squeezing as he rolls his hips forward in a deeper thrust, leaning forward until his weight is bearing down on me, pinning me to the bed, every rough buck of his hips slamming deeper, grip bruising where his hand meets my hip, pulling me into each thrust, back arching under his demanding touch. The snap of his hips is rough enough that the pleasure comes with a flaring ache, hands fisting, knuckles aching and wrists tingling with the pleasant ache of his hand roughly pinning them sharper to the bed overhead.

"I wanted to take my time with you cub. But you need me to make you ache after and remember just how well your tiger breeds you." Voice a low rasp as he leans over me, body taut with the spiralling pleasure that winds tighter, mercilessly around skin. His weight pins me to the bed, satiates that deep biologically rooted want to be caged and pinned. Making me take the sharp pleasure without pause, jaw tight as his eyes drag over me, a feverish intensity that drags down the curves of my body taut and arching into his touch. His body crowding impossibly closer, deep rocking grinds as his body makes my own arch and buck with restless, unbridled need.

"Taehyungie... Tae." I can barely recognise my own voice, strangled and hoarse, begging as he leans closer, head hovering close to mine, fangs pooled over his bottom lip, the litany of pleas and cries forced out of me, lungs full of berry syrup, cloying and thick, throat feeling constricted, tightening as I swallow, his mouth closing around my gland.

The pressure of fangs at my throat, tongue brushing against my gland to taste the way my scent betrays me. The way I feel caught and trapped between the firm hard lines of his body, hips grinding deep circles as his hands drift lower once more, roughly palming at my thighs, teeth sinking in hard enough that I feel my chest arch, cry muffled against the crook of his neck, arms winding around him to keep him this way. Nearly entirely flush to me, body cradling and caging mine, a wild gleam to his eyes once he draws back, lips slick and throat throbbing. And with his teeth sinking into my gland, I fall apart, tremors wracking my body, crying out as my body tightens. Muscles seizing up as I arch off the bed, a keening broken sound wrenched out my throat, body twisting and thrashing as much as the pinned sprawl of his body allows, muffling the next keening moan against him, twisting my head and teeth sinking in sharp against the curve of his bicep.

Biting down. Teeth clamping with the force of the release that washes over me, floods every nerve cell with the electric sharpness of it, the pleasure painful with how thoroughly and deeply it sweeps over me, the hoarse groan that shudders through Tae's body, the tension in his arm stiffening. The pinning weight of his other hand tightens to a bruising pressure, softer tremors in his body as he stills. The sharp buck of his hips as he buries himself deep and with a moaned cry of my name reaches his own peak. The ache in my gums stems from a feral satisfaction, mouth unclamping, teeth slowly slipping away as I catch my breath, head still tilting to his arm, his body curving closer as he sinks down further onto me, weight an added restraint, fingers slowly... slowly unfurling from my wrists. The pad of his thumbs brushing against the inside skin, the roaring want quenched just as sudden as it'd been elicited, soft breaths panting against taut muscle, mouthing at the deep angry red at the swell of his bicep, at the indent of teeth left behind with a fierce hunger that's gnawed through restraint and branded itself over his skin.

Tongue and lips softly nuzzling against the bite vivid against honeyed skin, feeling the way his body reacts to the softer touches. A light-headed burst of giddiness and pride and satisfaction that has more to do than biology. At the pleasure I get at seeing my mark, my teeth leaving their own vivid claim, a deepening bruise that's vibrant with the loudness of my claim.

"You're really just slow tiger." Voice breathless, smile curving against his arm, hands wracked with faint tremors as I draw them down, the pressure of his hand lingering against them even as I wind them around him, head tilting to his, seeing the greater pleasure and pride and satisfaction in his gaze, the wide grin stretched across his face.

Scent the sweetest and most preening I've ever smelt it.

"I don't think so. I think I've waited long enough for my mating bite. I think... there's no need to wait anymore." Voice tinged with a breathless awe, a proudness in his eyes as he leans down to kiss me slow, deep and unrushed.

His smile coaxing mine until they're pressed together.

Wound together with the brimming giddy exuberance of being lost in each other. Of being so utterly lost in him.

"Tae I love you."

His eyes shine, nose nudging against mine, the teasing brush of his tail against my calf, softer and lighter touches that help me wind down, holding me close to him.

"I love you (Y/N)... love you so much cub."

"More than your stripes."

A bruising press of lips to mine, curved in a wide grin, chest rumbling with a chuff.

"More than my stripes." He echoes.

"More than berries?"

Fangs gently nipping at my lips, the flick of his tongue against the seam of my mouth.

"More than berries."

"Anyways... I'm addicted to one flower these days." He murmurs before his hand cradle my cheeks, drawing my lips to his once more,

"Oh?"

He hums in affirmation.

"She smells and tastes like nectar. And trust me... I don't think I can go back to berries now... new preference." He murmurs with a softer smile, the week's intimacies hidden in the familiar lilt of his mouth against mine.

My cheeks flush, skin still warm, his hair damp under my touch, curls soft.

"I like flowers." A soft peck to my nose, a lingering kiss at my forehead, breathing me in, nuzzling against me.

"I like just the one." He refutes, chuffs rumbling deep when my scent seeps out soft and flustered.

Fingers gently tugging at his curls, easily coaxing him closer.

"Charmer. Down to every last stripe."

Tail curling and loosely brushing against my side.

"Says the one who seduced me by her scent. The one who sent me into rut with her scent. The one I crushed on when she was fawn fairy. The one I crush on even when she's mine."

My lips linger at the corner of his mouth.

"My sweet flower. Our sweet flower."

My head draws back to peer at him, rooted in place, breath catching at how radiant happiness makes him, flushed and dishevelled and entirely mine.

"Finally ready to share?"

His arms flex and tighten, hands finding their place at my waist, my eyes dragged to the sight of taut muscle, to my bite on his arm.

"....not just yet. Let me be greedy just a little while longer."

"Take all the time you need baby."

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

The silent touches coax me to wake, coax me to stir from the deep hazy fog of comfort and safety and berry.

Stirring faintly, squirming at the featherlight press of fangs ghosting along my skin, body relaxing further into the bed, protesting faintly, trying to twist away and burrow myself back into Tae's warmth, absently chasing it.

The soft sound that slips past my lips, brows faintly furrowing, is soothed away, fangs gently scraping against my skin, feeling nothing but contentment and a deeply engrained protection that lets me sink into sleep, head turning to burrow into the pillows. Breathing in sleepy-heavy berry.

Lips slowly brushing against skin, lingering longer and longer, as they trail downwards, the sound of sheets rustling, moving slightly off my body. Hand absently fumbling for them only to find that the warmth is replaced with a direct source. Warm skin brushing against my own, body pressing closer, fingers curling loosely into Tae's waist, subconsciously recognising the way his body feels under my touch, immediately recognising the berry even through the sleepy haze that fogs my senses.

He doesn't stir me awake neither does he soothe me back to sleep, content in the semi-conscious state of being awake that hovers somewhere between dreams and the state where senses haven't entirely sunk in yet, little to no control over movements and thought.

But the soft flutter of kisses pressing downwards, the gentle tug of hands manoeuvring my shirt upwards, skin against skin, the brush of curls against my chest, ticklish and featherlight, body squirming, trying to chase the sleep that still hovered over me, a blanketing weight unlike the firm lines and planes of a torso against mine, lips mouthing at skin, retracing and mapping me to their touch, head drifting lower and lower.

A small jolt when teeth gently nip at my stomach, fingers smoothening over soft flesh, hands brushing against my hips, a smile curving against skin.

I can't quite ignore the teasing press of lips and teeth gently nipping and soothing the faintest sensation with lingering kisses, nosing and nuzzling against my stomach, soft rumbled chuffs seeping into skin. The chuffs coax my body to a heavy laxness, knowing full well I could fall asleep to the rumbling warmth that reverberates against my skin. That the chuffs would let me drift back to a deeper sleep, that would drown out the ticklish, playful soft nips at my torso, hand drifting to brush over curls. Eyes blinking open slowly, head tilting to the sight of a tiger sprawled between my thighs, nuzzling gently against my stomach. Settled into the space my body has unconsciously made for him to stretch in.

A loose smile curls at my lips, watching the lazy flicker of stripey ears between rumpled messy curls, the way they pop and perk to attention when my hand drifts to gently tug at one, nails dragging lightly across fur, scratching at the base of one ear then the other, head tilting up to peer at me. Eyes brightening when he meets my gaze, fangs peeking past his lips.

"Morning cub? Did I wake you?"

Voice hoarse with disuse, the rich baritone layered with a rumble that makes every word ripple with a rasp.

I give a small shake of my head, his smile deepening, head lowering as he holds my gaze to press a lingering kiss above my belly button.

His eyes show he doesn't believe the small movement, lips curving against my skin, pressing soft kisses down my navel.

"Sleep well?"

A nod.

"Did you?" fingers lazily brushing through his curls, dragging against his scalp in slow motions.

His head arches back, tilting eagerly into the touch, eyes glittering with an alertness that shows just how wide awake he is, so at odds with the sleep-rumpled tiger that always greets me in the morning.

This tiger is wide awake and so sweetly gentle and affectionate.

Chuff rumbling as I continue to rub at his ears, fingers sinking into curls, his head dipping lower to continue mouthing at skin, hands clasped around my hips, gently squeezing.

"With a curvy fawn to hold all night? I slept like a baby."

My smile curves up.

"My baby. Baby tiger... my cub." I murmur, fingers trailing down to briefly brush against his jaw, thumb brushing against his ear lobe, rubbing a line up and down the side of his neck. Drifting lower to rub lazy circles into his gland, his scent sweet on my tongue as he continues to nuzzle against my skin, head turning to briefly rest his cheek against my stomach, scenting with a lazy intentness, satisfied where he is. His body sprawled out across the bed, fangs and teeth pressing teasing nips to skin, chuffing at the small squirms I give.

"Yours." He echoes.

His fangs scrape lightly against skin, fingers squeezing before he relinquishes his hold on my hips to knead at my side, knuckles grazing against curves.

Nosing at my abdomen, rumbling as his tail curls behind him, the broad stretch of his back tapering down to his waist, honeyed skin marred with red lines dragged into skin with my nails, the marks still vivid on his skin. The base of his spine where his tail wriggles and curls tugs a wider smile at my lips, stripey swishes with contentment, scenting me thorough and slow.

"You smell like mine. Scent's taken so deeply I'd believe it if you were cubbed." Voice tinged with a breathlessness, a raw, needing ache that unconsciously stirs my own scent, sweetening and entangling with his.

One day.

But the fact that his scent has taken so deeply, engrained itself into skin and flesh and melded with my own pheromones... that his scent is branded so thoroughly into me that I smell like Tae. I smell like his brings no little stirring amount of heat.

Flushed and warm and slowly seeping into my veins.

"Even though you're... not" he grumbles half-heartedly, eagerly burrowing closer into me regardless of the truth that lingers over us on the other side of the rut, grumbles muffled against skin instead.

"Does it make you that huffy?" I laugh, hand cradling the back of his head, slipping lower to curl against his nape, squeezing gently.

Going boneless as he sags against me, a rumbled groan as he sinks into me, hands curling against my side, the slow drag of his palm against the outside of my thighs, palming at curves.

"...maybe...yes...I don't know." Complaints muffled against skin, taking coaxing to tilt his head back up to peer at me, lips twisted into a pout, arms banding around me, keeping me anchored and pinned as he huffs, breath ghosting along skin. Warm and eliciting a soft shiver as he continues to absently nip, sinking his teeth in sharper to let the pinpricks of his fangs sting briefly before he presses a soft kiss to it, tongue flicking over it. A nuzzly, tending tiger giving the devout focus and attention to my body, coaxing it entirely from sleep and looking all too pleased at the way my scent betrays me.

His pout melting into a small playful smirk, head ducking lower as he slips lower on the bed, hand slipping to the inside of my thighs, a sharp squeeze against bruises, fingers re-slotting themselves to their marked indents on my flesh, a quiet groan slips past my lips.

"These are pretty... Hoseokie is right." He muses.

"About what?" briefly startled by his name being mentioned, words ending with a hiss as he tightens his grip on my thighs.

"Purple looks good on you."

A soft huff of laughter slips past my lips, tinging into a light moan when he ducks his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to my hipbone, trailing lower, slowly but surely marking his path towards my core, hips shifting restlessly. The sight of his head lowering to settle between my thighs, curls brushing against skin, a pulse of heat pooling low in my gut.

"Is that why you left handprints behind?"

He grins.

Fangs peeking and glinting.

Eyes dark and glittering.

"Whilst I don't intend on leaving my rather...comfortable place between your thighs, the next mate lucky enough to be where I am... they'll know exactly who left pretty marks on a prettier fawn."

Open-mouthed kiss, the flick of his tongue against my nub, fingers coaxing my thighs open for his head to tilt his mouth to my core.

"And I have every intention that the next mate who gets to kiss me can taste exactly where I spent the end of my rut." Eyes sharp and wicked, the curve of his mouth coy before it widens into a grin, head ducking lower, tongue flicking against me. Slow and unrushed.

Hands tightening on the inside of my thighs, my fingers curling tight against his nape, tugging at the curls to draw him closer.

Legs clenching at the first full drag of his tongue against me, slow and teasing. Tugging a groan from deep in my throat.

"I promise." The honeyed words murmured against my skin.

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

"Come on cub...one more. You can give me one more." his voice croons and coaxes, beckoning with a rasping lilt that belies the sharp, relentless rough thrusts of his fingers and tongue, dragging pleasure out of me.

His tone is rich and warm, delighted in how breathless and ragged every exhale is, body arching as his fingers continue to work themselves in and out of me, curling deep and yanking out broken sobs, eyes swimming with the blurred sight of him. Nose brushing against my cheek, lips pressing soft, slow kisses that entangled with praise and the relentless movement of his hand buried deep into sleep-shorts tugs out another peak, pleasure slamming in with a fierce intensity that my breath seizes in my throat. A muffled whimper pressed into his throat, hand gripping his forearm tightly, trying to escape the constant pressure as he continues to work his fingers in and out, unrelenting and merciless. His growled praise shuddering against my skin, reverberating as his eyes; dilated and wide, rake over me, fangs scraping across my jaw, tongue flicking against skin as if to taste the headiness of arousal in my scent.

"Pretty fawn... letting me have you like this. Only me... only me, want to take more, want to give more." he groans, voice molten with saccharine arousal and need, fingers slowly drawing away, lips lingering longer, slick fingers skimming across my thigh in a possessive, wandering sprawl that leaves his hand settled against the inside. His hand looks both right and obscene against the inside of my thigh, belonging there, veins prominent against skin, fingers slick with arousal and the same taut tension in his hand trailing down his wrist and forearm, a sharper, newer jolt of arousal at the sight of the proprietorial intent in the lazy pinning weight of his hand.

My legs jolt and tremble under the featherlight touches, at the drag of his fingertips against soft skin that moulds to his touch as he grips tighter, head dipping to flick his tongue against thigh glands, drenched with his touch and my arousal. The tight clench of my thighs loosen, trembling under his touch as his hands skim lower, drawing more shudders as he continues his downwards exploration of my body.

Intent and so painstakingly careful in mapping my legs to his touch. Slow careful exploration. As if he isn't familiar with both the way the glands on my thighs respond at the slightest stimulation from him, and from the familiar position of his hands drawing my legs over his shoulders. Intimately familiar with the enthralling sight of him burying himself between my thighs, legs trembling under his touch as he continues to trail his lips downwards. Mouthing slowly at skin, unrushed, the barest scrape of his teeth sparking soft jolts he relishes in drawing out. More and more.

Seeming to settle against my thigh, lips quirking upwards as he noses at skin, slow scents, fingers curling tight as he keeps my legs from closing.

"Just keep them open beautiful." Words low and crooned.

There's a teasing heat in his words that hint he's far from over and my hands tremble where they're tightly curled into the sheets.

"Tae..."

"Want to make you feel good."

So thoroughly committed in pleasuring that his own scent is rich and thick and drowning in satisfaction.

A breathless laugh, a shakier exhale.

"I might lose feeling in my legs at this rate."

His grin widens against my thigh, lips lingering as he presses kiss after kiss to the same slither of skin.

Scent cloyingly sweet on my tongue after those words are uttered.

"That does absolutely nothing to make me want to stop."

The faint drag of his teeth makes my body arch, twisting and thrashing, the barest stimulation making my body jolt with visceral pleasure that continues to wash over my body, tremors that make my core tighten and ache, clench around nothing.

"Tae baby..."

"Just... stay still." Voice featherlight, a hoarse tremble in it. A plea I can't bring myself to deny.

The faintest hovering tautness that makes the air swell with his pheromones, the warmth of his breath against the inside of my upper thigh, hands tightening on my legs, keeping them in place, unable to even consider moving away.

And then the sharp pressure of fangs clamping down hard.

A startled keening cry torn roughly past my lips as my back arches, thrashing but my legs are held in place, eyes stinging with the burning intensity of the bite, fangs piercing skin, sinking through flesh and finding their place in my thigh. Teeth clamping down to seal the bite, the soft rippled growl so thick and heavy and more tiger than he's been this entirety of the rut.

There's the burning sting of the bite that radiates alongside the pleasured jolts already wracking my body, the two entangling in an overwhelming, consuming entirety that floods my limbs, every nerve cell narrowing down to the sensation of his mouth at my thigh and his fangs clenched deep. My legs tremble, body writhing, throat feeling raw and lungs burning for breath.

Eyes stinging as my body seems to float, disconnected and yet rooted entirely to the sensation of Tae's touch on mine, fangs retracting, a low throaty growl rumbled against skin, head swimming with the constant waves of his scent, the barely abated waves of pleasure welling up to crest into new stronger waves, the scent of arousal and berry thick in the air, body going lax against the sheets.

The intensity of the pleasure combined with the stinging, searing heat that radiates from where his fangs have broken skin, where he's held me down and left a permanent claim on me, his mating bite gives a new intensity to pleasure, redefines everything I've known this blur of a week and brands it with the heated intensity of all-consuming, all-too-intense brand of pleasure that slams in. And leaves no doubt that I'm his.

Hands brushing against my legs, trying to still the frantic keen of my body twisting for relief from the heat that burns its lines and tracks through my veins, seared with the predatory claim that's bitten into sensitive flesh.

Tongue lathing over the bite, soft and repeated motions, the tang of iron piercing through the berry fog that entirely sweeps my body, feeling floaty, mind hazed, fingers grasping loosely at him, his hand guiding it to curls, hand curling.

Clutching at him.

Soft flicks of his tongue against the bite, nerves screaming and burning, jitters wracking my leg, his bite claiming the thigh gland, claiming the sensitive expanse of skin.

His words ringing in my ears.

They'll know exactly who left pretty marks on a prettier fawn.

And his words now softer and lost to the quieter growls, hushed intimate murmurs that I can't make out, fingers tightening in his curls, a keening distressed sound when it feels like he'll move away, his body crowding closer in reassurance.

"Took my bite so well... pretty cub... mated and mine." Words filtering past the burning sear that engulfs my body, past the hazy fog that sweeps my body, vision blurring, taking long seconds to realise that there's tears brimming and spilling over, my fingers reaching to scrub at my cheeks. Not realising my breath is hitching, shaking until soft murmurs against my thigh, pressing lingering kisses against the bite, nuzzling against it gently coaxes me down from the high, from the overwhelming rush of endorphins and pheromones that scream his...his...his.

"My mate. My cub. My mate." Uttered over and over, pressed into skin, tongue flicking over the stinging bite. Sharp pulses of pleasure fanning out more and more as he continues to mouth at skin, softer sucks, lips closing around his claim, groaning with low throaty appreciation that presses rumbles against my thigh. Hands still curled around skin, squeezing and grounding. Keeping me rooted to the sensation, to him.

Words slurred as I tilt my head to peer at him, dark curls mussed under my touch, face against my thigh, hand curled against flesh, fingers pressing tight as if trying to keep me from moving, as if there's anything I can do, limbs pliant and a sluggish haze steeped into every line and crevice, body sinking against the sheets.

"Tae—"

"Baby cub... my cub..."

Words feel heavy on my tongue, my tongue feels heavy in my mouth. Senses scrambled and uncoordinated.

My fingers can only curl the smallest fraction tighter.

Everything feels syrupy, time slowed, wading through treacle, struggling to even thread thoughts together, unable to think of anything but the way heat brands the inside of my thigh.

That the glands on my thigh will permanently carry my tiger's mark."

Eyes blurring, overwhelmed tears trickling down my cheeks, thighs trembling and aching, skin stained with overstimulated pleasure.

Arousal flickering and pulsing, entangling with the syrupy stickiness of my scent.

For the first time his scent is somewhere lost amongst mine, berry overshadowed by anise despite his rumbling pride and satisfaction and exuberance.

But still I can't seem to get my mind and body to cooperate, fingers brushing against curls, body sprawled against the sheets and his still settled between my thighs.

There's a thorough attentiveness he soothes over the bite, nuzzling and soft chuffs muffled against skin, kitten licks that chase the remnants of iron, mouth pressing soft suckling pressure that deepens the bruised bite, intent to deepen it but slow and unrushed in his aim to do so.

"Tete..."

A sweeter, sugar-sweet pulse of berry, warm and thick on my senses, blanketing them, his scent strong but distinctly soft, a deep rumbling chuff reverberating against my thigh.

"...Tete..." voice soft and quiet, hushed in the otherwise silence of the room, interspersed only with the contentment that cocoons me just as much as my tiger's scent does.

"I'm here baby. I'm here." Voice hushed and low, lips brushing once, twice, half a dozen slow kisses against my bite, fingers gently skimming over it with a careful tenderness before he's drawing himself upright.

Body settled between mine, hands drifting to cup my cheeks, thumbing at tears, leaning down to gently nuzzle against me, foreheads touching, nose brushing against mine and lips, faintly red, pressing to mine in a lingering, unrushed kiss that promises all the time in the world.

Lips slotting to mine with a surety, a sweet burning heat, tongue flicking against the seam of my lips, groaning at the entrance he's so readily granted, tongue brushing against his, fingers curling into his hair. It feels like every sense is disconnected, as if for all the strength I try to muster into holding him close, every limb feels like putty. Pliant and uncoordinated.

"Baby cub... my baby cub. My mate." He mutters between slick presses of his tongue licking into my mouth, groaning against me, a loose satiated ease in his limbs, tongue chasing mine slowly, languid and thorough in the deep strokes of his tongue exploring my mouth.

"Tete... my Tete." Words indistinct and heavy.

"Look so pretty with my bite. Gave me such a big bite. Took a chunk out of your tiger?" voice breathless and faintly teasing, smile pressing to my lips, his happiness lingering even as he draws back to look at me, the phantom pressure still pressed to my mouth. Eyes dark and glinting, pupils blown wide as he looks at me. Lost in the deliriousness of his bite, that realisation that I'm mated to the tiger hovering over me, mated, my own bite reciprocated. The stinging mix of pain-pleasure where my thigh trembles, the pressure of his teeth and fangs still felt, blood and heartbeat pulsing and roaring in my ears.

My own lips tug up.

I struggle to get air into my lungs, struggle to remember how to move my tongue to speak, a mix of endorphins and adrenaline searing through my bloodstream, a mix of giddiness and exuberance, entangled with pleasure that continues to make my scent spike.

"Tiger yum." Words breathless and teasing, the amusement lost in the incoherency of the way the words sound, disoriented and mumbled, leaning closer to him, body pushing upright, a dizzying sway that he steadies, grin deepening even as he coaxes me to lie.

Carefully drawing me back down, leaning closer to seal the distance that neither of our bodies or mind agree with.

A chuff rumbling and sinking into my skin as he presses closer, hand settled over my bite, both to cover and covet and to keep me tucked under him; a deeply rooted engrained biological need that has him keeping me pressed to him.

My arm winding around him to press directly against skin, hand against his back, feeling the way that he sags under my touch, nosing gently at my cheek.

"I'm very yummy. But my mates just—" words trailing off.

It takes a long, long while to find the strength to answer. A long enough time that I can feel his scent continue to seep into skin, adding to the growing scented haze that blurs out everything else.

Body covered by his, breathing taking time to even out, shaky exhales and thin intakes of breath slowly...slowly winding down, half-dazed, semi-conscious, soft incomprehensible sounds and mumbles of words every single time his hand skims across the bite, slowly circling it with his fingers over and over. The ghosting pressure of his hand against his bite, the gesture proudly possessive and claiming, his hand against his permanent claim, each other's scent transferring across, the press of fingertips gentler, tender against the bruising bite.

I don't know how long it takes to finally dredge up the words, voice slightly hoarse, tinged with faint tease. Body still sprawled bonelessly against the bed.

"Stir up a tiger's insatiable appetite?"

"Bingo."

JIN POV:

"Rut's over." The words sound both relieved and exhausted, faint shadows rimming Yoongi's eyes as he leans against the doorway, watching with a curving smile as there's a scramble of noise and movement. Ears popping to attention, perking up with attention, the lazy curl of his tail swishing as his eyes drift around the room.

"But." Hand easily snagging around Hobi first and then Jiminie to tug them away from the door, grin deepening as he watches the tips of their ears wilt in the slightest, protest on their lips.

"Give Tae a chance to begin to ease into post-rut first. It'll have been a long week for both of them. Let it settle." Words both warning, gently nudging Hobi further back into the living room, the caracal looking moments away from tearing down the hallway regardless.

There's always the impatience of waiting, the dissonance of it not being entirely right or complete even if the entire pack has been home, if technically... Tae and (Y/N) were just on the far end of the apartment. There's a... antsy feeling in not having the entire pack together.

My fingers curl into Joon's shirt, tugging him back when he whines low in his throat, soft brown eyes flashing reproachfully and pleading at me.

"How'd you know?" I ask, turning my attention back with a small smile, fingers tightening as the wolf curled beside me unsubtly tries shuffling forward a bit, hands fiddling, brushing over soft brown fur. Gently rubbing at the base of perked ears, warmth pooling at the sight of how they slowly flop again, Joon's focus directed onto the bunball on his lap, nose twitching and eyes far more alert as Koo's gaze goes towards the panther guard intercepting the doorway.

"Can smell it." A shrug to his shoulders, the movement loose and disarming but there's still that restlessness that's been steadily and constantly been bubbling under his skin.

And even from here I can see the way his hands are curled into fists against his side, nails curling to press against skin or fabric, a stiffness to his posture that betrays just how much harder it's been for him to keep away. How much harder it's been to keep the sharpness from his scent.

But even so... that sharp slightly tart sting to his citrus sweetness has remained. A sharper underlying itch that's not gone by unnoticed or disguised.

For all that the pack had taken suppressants, to block the tidal wave of rut slamming into their systems. For all that it'd softened and subdued that biological need rearing it's head and growling for the same needs, responding in turn to both Tae and (Y/N)'s scents... there's a sharpness that's not faded from the night (Y/N) had come back smelling like she was in the throes of heat and Tae faring no better, spiralling into an intense heightened instinctive state.

Though he had suppressants in his bloodstream, he had the symptoms, the effects of pre-rut simmering alongside it, never getting to progress further, stuck in limbo of a long stretched out pre-rut that doesn't get an outlet. Doesn't get to develop into something more or abate and lesson.

Constantly torn and restless.

I'm more than a 100% sure that Yoongi's been stuck in pre-rut from the moment Tae's rut slammed in. That maybe his body and biology had already been somewhere there, but everything had come crashing down, situation spiralling out of control so abruptly that he'd had no choice but to take the suppressor to prevent an even worse heat.

Especially because (Y/N) was the mate in heat. And felines aren't known for sharing the extreme vulnerability, that space with another. Even another mate.

"Pack nest?" I suggest, lips curving up at the happy throaty rumbled whine that comes not just from Joon's throat but Minnie's eyes glittering at the thought, ears perking upright. Tail swishing.

Soft purrs in the other two felines, almost startling then just as sweetly tender how they sync within instants.

On Joon's lap, Koo wriggles at the thought, hopping free from Joon's touch, a quiet, noiseless blur of brown fur and flopped ears, cotton tail twitching as he scampers forward. Quick treads as he rushes towards the doorway in eager haste.

Trying to hop past Yoongi's lazy stance, cotton tail wiggling and paws kicking at air when he gets scooped up. Tail poking playfully at him before Yoongi crouches down to gently take Kookie into his arms. Nuzzling against flopped ears, playfully nipping.

"Not so fast bun. No secret escape to the other end of the apartment. You can help choose nesting stuff." An eager bodily-wriggle, paws stretching out against Yoongi's chest.

"I like an assertive panther." I muse.

"It's hot." Joon murmurs in agreement, voice a bit gravelly, tail thumping against the upholstery, cheeks flushing a soft pink when he realises how easily his mutter has carried through the living room, how it's sharpened Yoongi's gaze with a curious contemplating gleam. A wicked curve to the smirk that tugs at soft pink lips.

The tips of Hobi's ears curl and twist, lips curved into a wide grin.

"Isn't it just?" he enthuses eagerly.

Soft tail wriggling and swaying side to side, his own apparent enthusiasm and vocal assent tugging a smile to my lips, drawing myself up to stand and drawing Joon up alongside me. Hand settling on the low of his back, a nudging gesture.

"Want to stay with Yoongi then? Going to be a good pup and listen to him?" lips against the curve of his ear, teeth playfully nibbling at his lobe.

A soft keening whine, a quiet rumble at the back of his throat.

Ears flickering as my hand drifts up to map out the curve of his spine under my touch, palm settling against his nape. Squeezing briefly.

"We don't know how Tae will feel when he finally feels upto sharing the space. But cub will never say no to a nest." Steering him forward, drawing Hobi and Minnie in turn towards me, nudging the two towards the direction of the kitchen.

It's Hobi who lingers, torn.

It's Minnie who winds an arm around his waist, nearly just as much reluctant, but coaxing our caracal to the kitchen.

Lips at his throat.

Murmurs brushed directly against skin.

"You know how to make Tae's favourite food... you know how to feed him well."

Dark eyes slipping to peer at the fox curved around him.

Attention successfully drawn.

"Come be my teacher hyung. Teach me how to take care of Tae and (Y/N) too." Voice lilting and softly persuasive, the playful scrape of fangs stirring a breathless huff from Hobi.

Nipping sharper when Hobi lingers, provoking a reaction. Startling a sweet burst of molten caramel warmth.

Tension bleeding out of his posture.

"I bet you were a handful as a student."

There's laughter in Minnie's eyes, mischievous and warm, hands wrapping around Hobi's to walk backwards with him towards the kitchen, leading him in with lazy swishes of his tail, a lure in the sway of soft orange fur swaying side to side.

"Me? I was an angel."

My eyes glance to the doorway, watching Joon and Yoongi's attention settle entirely on the bun scooped between a panther's hands, padding towards the kits' room.

Briefly lingering.

They'll be okay. Our pack... we'll be okay.

And then we can deal with Yoongi's rut.

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

The partition door is ajar.

There's no clearer invite Tae could've given after how fiercely he'd reacted to the assuming non-threat of non-predator mates.

There's no clearer way to say come in, and that our presence... that the pack is welcomed there.

The scent of heat-rut clings barely to the hallways, the diffusers Koo had chosen lightening the strong pulse of pheromones that otherwise would've slammed into the pack all over again but in its entire, unrestrained fulfilled thickness.

The door to her room is ajar too.

An invite.

But we can already hear him before we even enter the room, can hear his chuffs rumbling deep throughout the apartment. Ears perking and flickering at the content sound.

Our tiger is happy. And settled.

And the sound alone soothes a silent worry I didn't consciously know I was harbouring.

The curtains by the windows fluttering, airing out the space, the mess of ruined sheets gone. Replacing the bedspread with a soft satiny texture that's blissfully tender and gentle against the flickering, dying remnants of heat-rut temperature.

That and Tae's gone all out in spoiling, tending to his mate now that post-rut has begun to settle, post-heat making her scent incredibly soft and vulnerable and his mellowed out but suffused with a protectiveness that's immediately apparent with how the two are lying together.

"Look at my big cub." Jiminie enthuses, ears perking upright.

Because curled entirely around (Y/N), around a shifted fawn all circled up is our big, fluffy tiger circled around her, tucking her up in the circle of his body, her head resting not on folded hooves but against the white fur of his underbelly, drooped against him.

His tail giving small unconscious flickers, deep rumbly chuffs that filter through the air, dousing it with a honeyed berry that's all sweet warm cocoons.

The two of them shifted and tucked against one another, Tae's larger form curled protectively around her, providing her with the warmth of his body and fur that keeps her comfortably asleep, her cheek resting against the soft fur, sinking heavily against him, quiet almost noiseless bleats that are muffled under the weighted rumbles of his chuffs.

Unconsciously projecting just how deeply happy and content he is. His biology broadcasting his feelings even as he sleeps.

"If the door was open does that mean—" Hobi prompts hopefully. Eagerly.

Koo is the first to rush forward, a large ambitious hop that has him floundering at the edge of the sheets, scrabbling upwards with a determination. The first to move forward towards the two, small hops that are confident and assured. He doesn't immediately delve in to join the two, snuffling at a drooped tiger, small nose twitches against thick fur.

I don't know how Tae feels it, how he registers the soft brush of fur against fur, head turning to blink at the significantly smaller bun in front of him, a rumbling chuff as he gently bonks his nose against Koo's flopped ear, snuffling along glossy fur. Nuzzling at Kookie with a tenderness that's a stark cry from the cagey wild tiger.

This is pure cub.

Pure Tae.

And he's so gentle with how he gently nuzzles his cheek against Kookie, soft rumbles before he turns his head, nudging him along with soft bonks to join (Y/N), steering him into the protective barrier of his body.

Eyes only then turning towards the rest of us, his mouth stretched in a motion akin to a smile. My gaze following his before a laugh bubbles out.

"Strip hyung. You're taking your sweet time." Minnie laughs, already shucking off his own, the rest already in the stages of tugging off clothes, all eager to join the shifted trio with the same intent to press close, pack pile with everyone in their shifted form.

My eyes drag slowly over one mate after the other, watching at the small ripple of movement before one after the other, the pack pile on the bed grows, Tae's chuffs alongside it.

Watching with a swishing tail as one after the other his pack pile grows, Minnie the next to clamber on, soft chirps as he eagerly greets Tae, cheek rubbing against his, scenting his big berry with the soft tendrils of mint, nosing along stripey fur before snuffling at a curled fawn. A louder chirp when (Y/N) stirs, bleating softly for Kookie who hops closer, unfurling to let him clamber into the circle of her body. Tucking him away before nudging her nose against Minnie, small kitten licks in greeting, doe eyes heavy with sleep but brightening at the sight of the pack.

A soft bleat as she looks to the rest of us, a loud yowwwwl shattering the quiet with a very vocal response to her gentle implore.

But Hobi doesn't immediately clamber onto the bed, pawing at my legs, stretched upwards to me. Ears twirling and eyes wide with expectation, pawing at my legs.

Yowling softly and insistently until I lean down to scoop him up, soft fur against my skin, nudging his cheek against my shoulder, against my neck. Eager scents as he curls into my arms, circling inwards.

"I thought you'd be the first to join the pack pile. Second Yoongi... maybe switched." I muse, feeling the brush of fur against my legs, Yoongi circling me from behind, head nudging against my side. Soft rumbled purrs.

Joon clambers on eagerly, soft whines and all wags, tail swishing side to side, quick and perked. The soft forest-dew scent joining the amalgamation of pack that curls together.

Watch as the two kits linger, holding back as the pack pile becomes an eager mess of fur and limbs, chirps entangling with whines and chuffs almost drowning out the near-quiet bleats as (Y/N) turns to scent Koo.

There's eager wags and thumps as Joon circles them all one by one, whining happily as he gives little grooming nibbles to stripey ears first, tugging out deep chuffs, head tilting back to encourage the gentle affection. Eager for it.

Wolf padding around to nose then along doe ears, nose nudging against her own, soft rumbles and tail wagging quickly when she tucks her head under his, rubbing the top of her head against the underside of his, burrowing against him as he leans into the circled space of Tae's nest, enforced by the barriers of striped fur and large limbs all coiled up.

"Yoongi-ah why aren't you joining either?" voice soft, fingers drifting to brush along his flickering ears, standing tall and perked, body pressed against mine, peering at them with a softness that clings to his scent.

Drowns out the sharpness for a while.

Pre-rut.

If anything this is exactly what he needs right now.

So why is he lingering and holding back from it?

The soft yowls grow louder in encouragement, but Hobi doesn't hop free from my cradle either, curling against me with contented wriggles of his tail, setting himself securely against me, one arm around him as I crouch down beside Yoongi, clothes scattered around us; proof of how eagerly the rest of the pack had rushed forward at the first indication of an invite.

His head tilts closer to me, briefly rubbing against his cheek to my palm, whiskers ticklish against skin.

And though there's pure, unadulterated longing in his eyes. He doesn't rush close. Holds himself back intentionally.

"Felines don't like sharing. We're known for being possessive."

"Worried Tae won't want you two there?" I ask quietly.

A soft rumble, head dipping into a nod.

A quieter yowl. Plaintive.

"My sweet baby kits. Can't you see Tae keeps looking at both of you?"

Watching as Yoongi's head turns, still crowded against me from behind, peering in the direction of the large bed.

Watch as Tae's eyes are transfixed on the three of us.

Herding and shepherding the others into the pack pile.

But still waiting.

Still watching.

The pack pile incomplete.

A soft rumble in the back of his throat, low and wanting.

It makes the two felines pressed to me half-lean towards the direction of their youngest cub.

It doesn't matter he's the biggest apex predator.

It doesn't matter that he's the largest shifted.

There's the young vulnerability and need that's visible in Tae's eyes, chuffs soft and imploring, pawing fretfully at the bed, pawing as he waits for his mates. For his first mates.

"I think you're delaying Yoongi-ah. I know Tae knows. There's no way he won't have smelt it. There's nothing to be guilty for." I whisper, words hushed, lips pressing to his ears, fingers carding over thick fur, gently rubbing.

He droops closer.

Eyes wide and baleful.

Questioning.

Are you sure?

"My fussing fretting panther and my yowly fussy kit... go to our cub before he throws a hissy fit." I laugh, gently nudging at Yoongi and Hobi to unfurl and pad forward.

A sharp nip at my ear, a quicker soft kitten lick before Hobi hops free, padding forward, body coiling and hunching before he springs to dive onto the bed, paws slipping momentarily over the satin sheets, ears perked and twirling as he makes a steadfast path directly for his big cub.

Yoongi lingers for a few more moments before he tilts his head up.

A big rasp of his tongue against my cheek, thoroughly dousing me in citrus and saliva, squirming as he rumbles against my cheek, amusement and tease clear in the sound, watching as I duck my head away, cheek brushing against my shirt.

But rather than it offend him, he just rumbles a deep purr, eyes lingering to my shirt instead.

Scent lingering on me regardless.

And then it's only me left.

Eyes lingering for a few minutes longer over the rest of the pack.

There's always this strong deeply-rooted pull towards them, always this deep satisfaction at seeing my mates all together.

There's a deep restlessness that's soothed at the sight of the entire pack, shifted and curled together, clambering closer to each other. Soft chirps and yowls and whines. Loud rumbly chuffs and purrs as Yoongi rounds them, herding them closer and closer, scenting and snuffling. Tail swishing slow and content. Quiet, careful treads as he reaches Tae.

A quiet, brief interaction that passes unspoken between their gazes before Tae droops his head, ducking under Yoongi's, chuffing against black fur, burrowing into it.

Finding comfort in being pressed against his mate.

Chuffing deeper and contentedly, his scent sweetening and turning thicker.

Warm on my tongue.

My hands are unrushed as I slowly tug off layers, unrushed as I'm the final one to join the pack pile, clambering onto the bed first before shifting.

A quick rippling motion as biology washes over.

The world distinctively larger and bigger now.

Padding forward carefully, wings flapping as I waddle over the curve of a swishing tail, beak nudging at Minnie and Hobi, trying to pad closer to Tae and (Y/N), nipping gently, amused at the bodily wriggle before they turn tum-up. Dark eyes watching me.

Waiting.

The price for entrance past two sprawled mates. Tails swishing and wriggling, pawing at air in eagerness.

Clambering on carefully, beak nudging and rubbing against the soft fur of their underbelly, chirps and yowls expressing their happiness, wriggling about as I duck my head lower, small nips and gentle nudges of my own head tilting to rub against fur. Scenting them in return.

Beak nudging at their cheeks, nipping at their ears before I waddle forward, honk at my beak as I nip along flickering doe ears, beak rubbing against soft down. Scenting and indulging on hovering close to her and Koo, nuzzling against his flopped ears before settling over (Y/N), neck hooking to curve over her, resting against her, wings tucked against my back.

Tucked at the centre of the pack pile. Tucked at the centre and fully aware of everyone else's positioning to be just as close. Of the larger predators bracketing the rest in, aware of the fox and wolf duo herdy and shepherding and alert before they tuck themselves close too.

This... this soothes the entire week of restlessness.

This is pack.

Now I know we're home.

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

Yoongi was one of the last ones to join the pack-pile, but he's already gone when I wake, body stretched out across the bed, arms wound around a sprawled, snoozing mate. Curled against me, nose pressed to my throat, soft chirps rumbling quietly against my skin.

The majority of the pack have shifted back, the stiff heaviness in my limbs telling me that long hours have passed, that this wasn't a nap it was sleep. Deep and heavy and undisturbed.

My wings flap as I twist, falling to sprawl against my back, Minnie's body still entangled with mine so that when I change position, he remains tucked against me.

And Yoongi's not there. Neither is Koo.

But filling their space, filling the protective barrier is a wolf curled in a half-moon, tail thumping against the bedspread, eyes alert and awake.

Whining softly when our eyes meet, tail wagging quicker when he spots that someone else is awake.

Trotting over to nudge his nose against my cheek, rumbles soft as he paws at my bare torso.

"Hey pup..."

A quiet happy whine.

"Yoongi and Koo gone. Where's (Y/N)?"

He gives a louder keening whine, tail thumping happily before he turns to face the direction she's in, the pack pile now turned to a large sprawl of mates all tucked up in bed.

My head tilts to peer around, eyes catching sight of a broad frame wrapped around her own, purpled marks proud and stark against both their skin, Tae curved around (Y/N), holding her to him, holding himself to her.

At some point rather than being piled on the sheets, someone, Yoongi and Kookie, must've drawn blankets around and some semblance of both privacy and warmth, limbs entangled under the sheets, my body stretching slightly before reaching to tug the blanket more securely around me and Jimin, Joon pawing and scurrying to snuggle against me too.

"Where's Hobi?"

Joon's nose boops against mine before he twists, sprawling on his side, paw lifting to peer in the two newly­-mated pair's direction.

All bundled and cosy.

Without checking I know one of the lumps in the blanket is a kit all tucked away and pressed directly to her.

A brief moment where my eyes linger at the utter contentment that smoothens out every feature on our cub's face, a deep exhaustion clinging to (Y/N).

Thoroughly tired out.

Joon's nose nudging against my jaw and throat draws my sight back, centres it to him. Soft dark, dark fur against my skin, warm where his rumbles reverberate and soak bone deep.

The lights aren't on in the room, the curtains are still drawn and yet... yet there's sunlight filtering in, barely adding to the warmth with how cold I still know it is outside.

But that just adds even more to the winter pack pile, the heat from each other's bodies creating a dozy comfort that lulls me, eyes fluttering shut as Joon and Jimin press closer to me. Warm fur and skin.

"Were Yoongi and Kook okay?" I mumble into Joon's fur. Absently rubbing my cheek against his.

A quieter whine. An affirmation.

"Wan' to go look for them in a while?"

A small snuffle.

Agreement.

My wings flap and stretch wider, sprawling across the soft sheets, a small smile curving at my lips.

I'll have to ask Tae where he got them from.

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

Pre-rut is almost an angry sort of violence that bleeds into Yoongi's scent. A sharp intensity that makes my eyes water and my throat burn.

The sight that accompanies it makes my blood roar.

Wings aching at the base of my spine, a heaviness that entangles with the heat that simmers under my veins.

A blessing in disguise that swans can't go into rut, the sight that greets me in the living room tears at my restraint, body growing taut before unconsciously gravitating forwards.

More and more, day by day, increasingly and even more increasingly it's harder to resist.

It's harder to resist what I know I crave.

It's harder to resist when everyone else's biology pushes and nudges them along, stirs them into a blind antsy need, but my very conscious, logical reasoning falls apart without biology making me crumble.

It's harder because it feels I get swept into the sensations so much more vividly and entirely and without the same blinded single-minded need that rut triggers.

But it feels like it now.

It feels like rut right now.

It feels like the sight alone could blow my more rooted biology out of the waters and into deep, floundering depths instead.

The sight of familiar hand sprawled over pale thighs.

What immediately strikes me isn't the recognition of the hands, the sight of ink curling around his forearm upwards, it isn't the breadth of shoulders settled between the lazy confident sprawl of thighs. It's the almost delirious hunger that prickles at me, appreciation and arousal entangling together that... Yoongi's thighs look thicker. Stronger and corded with more muscle definition. More so than the first time I met the panther.

It's a startling sudden difference that momentarily makes my steps falter, eyes dragging upwards, a soft obscene curse muttered like a prayer, eyes drifting upwards before they're rooted at the sight once more.

Wings aching as they flare in the open space of the living room, the low growled expletives past Yoongi's lips aching torment, his hand, slender fingers entangled tightly into Kookie's hair and tugging, keeping him anchored between his thighs, hips rutting up with a sharp snap, burying himself deeper and deeper into his lax mouth, into his throat.

Body burning at the muffled sounds, hands curling and gripping at Yoongi's thighs, the tight grip on his hair contradicted by the gentler brush of fingers against flopped ears, at the soft praise nearly lost in the wild burning urgency of it all.

There's nothing slow or unrushed.

It's pure need and the sharpness bleeds into Yoongi's citrus scent, turning it cloying and thick.

There's a possessiveness burning in his eyes when he registers me, but he doesn't growl, he doesn't bare his fangs.

There's a lazy confident smirk curling at his lips, fangs glinting.

And a roaring satisfaction in his eyes, possessiveness and yet secure in his knowledge, in his affirmation that in this instant Koo is no-one's but his.

Pre-rut doesn't make Yoongi aggressive at all.

It makes his scent burn with arousal, strong and laced with the crackling heat of flames that lick at skin and engulfs anyone too close, too near.

There's pride instead. A claiming possessiveness in the lazy sprawl of his body, the muscles in his thighs clenching under Kook's hands, hips rutting forward, hand keeping him anchored between his thighs.

There's a welcoming gleam in Yoongi's eyes, the lazy tilt of his head appraising and curious.

"Come to join the fun hyungie?"

I can see how Kookie's torso tightens, spine bowing forward, his fingers flexing over flesh, tightening as he readjusts his grip, crowding closer, his own moan strangled and muffled around Yoongi, bobbing his lips around him, throating him deeper, cotton tail twitching with sensitivity.

His own scent is contently level, the breadth of his shoulders and his small waist caged in between the predatory sprawl of thighs.

"I thought you left for other reasons." I murmur, taking the steps forward towards them.

The smell of cooking still lingers in the air, the smell of something sweeter and lighter cording through the heavier richness of dinner.

"Bun wanted to help me again. Just like he has been this entire week. Just like the others."

Just like everyone else trying to navigate a pre-rut panther whose scent neither spiralled nor softened, a constant sharpness that reminded the pack of the impeding rut. Maybe the torment of a drawn out pre-rut would lead in to an explosive rut. Maybe it'd make his rut... tamer.

But right now, his eyes are dilated, scent tart with curling arousal, sweat beading at his temples, long strands of hair curling and sticking to skin, pressing against his nape. The curl and sway of his tail lazy and enticing.

The heat of his hand seeping into skin as he reaches to draw me closer, mouth hot and hungry against mine, groaning against the parting seam of my lips, a hand unfurling from Yoongi to clasp at my thigh, fingers curling against the inside of my leg, a tremble that betrays just how much pleasuring Yoongi is in turn ruining him too.

Fangs sharp at my bottom lip, sinking in hard enough to draw the faintest tang of iron, his tongue sweeping against the sting, swallowing the taste of my scent, of my soft groan against the heat of his tongue, hand cradling his cheek, fingers brushing through long hair.

Tugging gently until he's hissing low, gaze blown wide as I draw back, hand reaching down to where Yoongi's is entangled in Kook's hair.

"Let go kit."

A simmering crackling tension, contemplating and curious.

Eyes narrowing.

Fingers painstakingly slow and almost stiff.

But they unfurl.

A low rippled growl when I tap my fingers against Kookie's nape.

Hips rutting up, chasing the heat of his mouth, lips slick and swollen, tongue flicking to chase the taste that's burned onto his mouth.

Eyes dark and slightly hazed.

"Hyung." hoarse and delighted.

The term tugging a broken groan past Yoongi's lips and a grin to mine. Hand reaching for his, drawing him up, steadying his wobble as he tilts to me.

"Got distracted cooking? Or did you just want to be your hyung's good boy?"

He nods, lips messy against mine, tasting of arousal and citrus, tasting of Yoongi so entirely his entire mouth seems branded by the scent and taste of the panther who watches with dark rapt eyes.

"Hyung's been pent up all week... the least of what I can do is help take the edge off."

Yoongi's chest rumbles with the force of the growl, unrestrained and hungry and dark.

Voice a rasp.

"Hyung's bun. Hyung's baby boy." Words affirming the praise that makes Kookie's eyes dilate just that much more, his mind clear of the consuming entirety of rut too.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't gnaw any less.

It doesn't mean he's not affected as I sink down to my knees to replace the space Kook had occupied, hands brushing over his thighs and hooking under his knees, a small tug that has his hands sprawling heavier on the couch for purchase, pushing his hips up, a wanting restlessness as he watches me through a lidded gaze. Dark lashes fluttering against flushed skin.

"Want me to finish what Koo started?"

A sharp nod.

"Use your words Yoongi-ah. Tell hyung what you want. Hyung will give it to you."

"Hyung... hyungie please. Don't tease. Just help me ache less." Voice bordering on a deep rumbled moan, words entangled with raw need.

"Don't tease." He adds.

My lips curve up.

"Wouldn't want the entire pack to walk in... although you're so pretty kit... don't want the others to push you into rut. Unless... unless that's what you want." I murmur, head dipping lower, tongue flicking briefly against the tip, hand encircling him, lazy drags of my palm against his slick length.

The sight of his body straining, tightly coiled as he forces his tongue to comply, to answer, sends sharp sparks of heat to splinter across my skin, wings flapping and arching behind me. Flaring to their full span. Flapping before stilling, stretched wide, imposing and powerful.

"I can't go into rut. I physically can't... my biology doesn't seem to want to." A tightness to his jaw, a vicious carnal gleam in his eyes, head tilting back with a throaty groan as my mouth parts around him, sinking deep in a fluid sheathing motion. Cheeks hollowing as I draw him deep, the muscles in my back flexing and shifting as my wings splay proud and wide, hands curling to drag my nails against the taut muscles of his thighs.

"Or... you haven't because one person will trigger it. And that mate was holed away and coveted by a tiger?" Kook's voice behind me murmurs, quiet steps, fluid and quick before he sinks onto the perch of the couch, Yoongi's hand darting out to reach for him, tugging him forward with a plaintive growled shudder of his name.

He hasn't gone into rut. Because his biology wants to responds to (Y/N). To the only prey who satisfies every mate's biological burning rush. Whose own biology doesn't combat anyone else's in the slightest.

Fingers curling into flesh, gripping tight at Kook, fingers pressing hard enough to leave their indents behind. Hard enough to make it ache.

Hips rutting up, soft rippled growls and sharp pants of breath as I swallow around him, tongue flicking against him, swallowing the taste of his arousal staining my mouth, the impatience and need that bleeds into his scent with a sharp musky edge, senses entirely swamped by his pheromones.

Drawing my mouth up and off, drawing in slow breaths, relishing in seeing the tighter pants of breath, the laboured rise and fall of his chest, the sight of Kookie nibbling slow thorough marks down the sharp curve of his jaw and over slightly swollen glands.

Both sympathy and tease filtering through my thoughts in equal measure, lips quirking up, hovering at his tip, hand curling around him in sharp quick thrusts that are at odds with the slow heat of my mouth sinking around him, mouth lowering to let my lips ghost along him.

"Poor kit..."

Fingers encircling tighter, his hissed warning lost in the distracting flutter of his lashes, the clench of his stomach as I continue to work my hand and mouth around him, drawing him deep, deeper, throat contracting as I swallow, drawing in breath, the reverberations of my own moan shuddering around him, a tight clench of fingers dragging against my scalp and splaying possessive and tight against my nape.

The pressure makes the air in my lungs burn.

Something so familiar and new and dizzying about the touch.

Something assertive and demanding in a way that shows he takes, that in this instant... nothing will keep him from chasing the blistering pleasure that lances at him.

My wings flutter briefly, back muscles loosening, body curving forward as he spills into my mouth. Peak startling him with its intensity, with how suddenly it strikes him, throat contracting as I swallow, breathing tight and laboured.

My own lungs tight with pleasure, with laboured breaths, hands smoothening over his thighs, fingers brushing over the reddened indents of nails and fingerprints, touch softer and gentler.

Blown out wide pupils staring at me, Kook's grin curved against Yoongi's throat, hands entangled tightly, and the stiffness of Yoongi's body at odds with the loose contented sprawl of our mate against him. Hand brushing down his arm.

"Better hyung?"

A shaky nod.

The sharpness of his scent prickles at me.

"Did I do good for you panther?"

His lips are parted in a breathless pant, curving deep into a grin, the flash of fangs and gums that softens the sharpness of his scent somehow.

"Yeah... you did."

He doesn't care that the taste of him lingers on our lips as he leans down to tug me closer, my body pushing into the space his sprawled thighs allow for and then some. Lips against his, tugging him closer, his hands, his body running a degree or two hotter, the difference burning where his touch drags across my shoulders, pressing to my nape, down my back.

Feverish hot as if he can't get enough.

Until his hand settles across my sternum, nudging me back, half-looming, half-crowding against me as he stands, breaths softer and shakier as my lips brush across the inside of his thighs, trailing to his hipbone.

Sinking back, wings fluttering as I tilt my head to appraise him.

"Used my mouth, had your release and now?" voice slightly rough.

"What was it you said about an audience?" he echoes.

"That you'd look breath-taking at the centre of it all." I lilt, taking his hands as he draws me to stand, hands encircling him, drawing him closer to press lingering kisses against his jaw.

Smiling when he in turns leans to nose along skin, slow, thorough scents to douse me further in his scent. As if both me and Kookie aren't branded by it.

"Charming. But it isn't my spotlight. It's the end of Tae's first rut. You think I'm not going to take of my cub through every bit of it." A familiar pride and love and unwavering support that has him holding Tae in the highest regard. That puts Tae for him first and foremost. The same way I am for Kookie's ruts.

But it still makes a faint part of me pang with an ache for him. For his mind being so resolutely fixated on his cub that his biology almost has no choice but to take the small reprieves. And a backseat.

"I wouldn't for a moment think otherwise." I murmur, fingers briefly brushing through his hair, angling his face to mine. Lips ghosting along his.

"But if it gets too much. If your rut gets too much. You tell me. You don't try hide it, you don't endure it alone."

A small nod.

Almost unnoticed.

But never to me. Never when it comes to them.

But before he can duck away, before he can leave, my hand curves against his nape and tug him closer, head resting against his, foreheads touching.

I don't let go. I don't want to let go.

Hand cradling him closer, the other finding its way around his waist, resting against the low of his back. Feeling the looser coil of his muscles, the tension and tightness already out of his system. Given an outlet in short bursts.

But he needs to let his rut pan out.

And he needs to breathe.

Holding him as his breath evens out, as it grows to calm.

Holding him for long minutes after that.

He needs to know that just as much as Tae's rut, just as much he wants to cherish and tend to that... just as much his rut matters to us. And taking care of him through it is all we want.

And even without his rut yet hitting in or sinking in, he needs to know his pre-rut matters just as much. And even without his rut his scent remains crackling and sharp, stronger in this instant.

Leaning back to see how his dilated pupils slowly begin to constrict once more.

"Talk to (Y/N) later."

"She's come out of an induced heat hyung—"

"Talk to her hyungie. She won't bite..." voice softer and warm.

Faintly teasing.

"Not unless you want her too~" a huff of laughter, the sharp growl of a curse and incredulity bleeding into his tone.

"You brat."

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

"Tae you're staring." Minnie lilts, eyes sparkling with mischief and delight, tail swishing where it sways, the tip of it brushing across the ground, head cocked as he turns his body to properly face him.

Watching as Tae chuffs, fangs peeking past his lips, barely focused on his food with how intently he watches (Y/N) instead, her cheeks pinkening from the attention, ears flickering at the sound of unbridled joy rippling through Tae's body. The sound of his chuffs soaking through skin, past the barrier of clothes, arms wound snug around her, resettling over her to cradle her impossibly closer.

There's a flushed glow the two of them adorn, freshly mated and here on the other side of the triggered rut, looking far from worse to wear, far from worn out and exhausted, their bodies carrying a loose contented lightness to it.

"I know~ but can you blame me? You all are too!" he refutes easily, tail swishing and swaying, stripes curling with satisfaction as he nudges his nose against a pink cheek, fangs nipping before he presses a lingering kiss there.

His eyes glow, bright and alert.

Clear.

Post-rut brings back Tae's need for pack with clustered seats, dragged closer for dinner, the table abandoned to all half-bundle, half-pile into the living room, legs slung over one another, a mix of takeout boxes scattering the coffee table, balancing precariously on the arm of the couches.

"You know... I'd read about flexibility before. Remember? For my paper... think there was a lot about stamina too you know." Hobi remarks, words lilted and coy, the curve of his grin sly and teasing, eyes shining with mirth, the tips of his ears twirling as (Y/N)'s gaze drifts to him, her own narrowing with scepticism and warning.

"I thought your degree revolved around hybrid care." Words half-lofty, the corners of her lips curved up, fingers dithering before she plucks a doughnut from the box balanced on her lap, examining the icing glaze with a feigned curiosity.

Her ears flickering and perked to attention.

"You think post-mating rituals and aftercare doesn't qualify? You don't think I'll have taken extra modules for credit?" voice just as light as he responds, nipping at Kookie's fingers as he reaches to pluck the fork from his grip. Laughing at the soft yelp and the sudden lunge to tug the fork free, body weight leaning against him, struggling and laughing at the brief scuffle purely for the sake of it, self-indulgent and flush cheeked when Kook tugs the fork free, a pleased grin on his face. And a curious breathlessness on Hobi's face.

Grin sharp and feline as he sinks back, propping his head against Joon instead.

"Seokie don't be a tease." Yoongi half-scolds, a looseness in his body as he leans his head absently against Tae's thigh, content to rub his cheek and hair absently against his cub, scenting both himself and being scented in turn.

(Y/N)'s free hand reaches to brush over his hair, fond and gentle, his head arching as he tilts into the touch. A soft rumbled purr, scent blooming sweet.

Some part of my own biology seems to track their scents, their pheromones, particularly when they're during cycles or between them. Some part of me has become so wholly wired to them.

My eyes drift curiously over the expanse of (Y/N)'s throat, scanning for a mating bite that I already know isn't there, trying to gauge where. A curiosity thrumming through my veins. And I know I'm not the only one trying to gauge it.

I know that at least half of the lingering glances are because of that.

It's instinctive and unconscious to lean forward, thumbing at her lips, at the sweet icing at the corner of her mouth, leaning to chase the sweetness from her lips, soft and indulging.

Chasing the soft burning heat of her lips brushing against mine, tilting forward with a soft sound, her scent broadcasting her biological vulnerability and the strong pulse of her floral sweetness.

"Hi Jinnie."

"Hi chickie." Nose nudging against hers gently, watching as she leans forward to press another kiss to my lips before proffering her doughnut to me, a teasing glimmer in her eyes.

Scent sweetening and softer when my thumb presses down on her bottom lip.

"Already got my taste baby." Steering her hand to her own mouth instead, smiling as she holds my gaze for a few more moments before taking a bite, scent spiking with happiness at the taste, Tae's grip turning tighter as he hugs her from behind, nosing along her skin, relishing in the way her scent so responsively reacts to every emotion, every stimuli.

She takes her time eating before turning to face Hobi, finally deciding to give his remark a response.

"Well... biologically alone Hoseokie... every single one of us in this room... our biologies have made our bodies built for mating. For stamina. For multiple rounds... me alone. Excluding biology... I think there's another type of fun in testing out the limits no?" voice coy, the hand around her squeezing tight, my own breath shuddering in my lung at the mischief in her words.

Without meaning to, without realising, my eyes flicker to Yoongi first, watch his gaze darken. The clench of his jaw.

Then my head turns to Hobi, a wicked conspiratorial knowingness in the deceptively sweet heart-shaped smile. Next to Minnie... rather the duo, him and Joon both, are curved close. Their scents betraying what their bodies don't. What their lips beg to say, but teeter on the cautious.

The tenseness broken by Kookie's voice.

Nonchalant and casual.

Shoulders shrugging as he peers at (Y/N).

Nose scrunching.

"Breeding like rabbits is founded in fact. I don't doubt that I would go multiple rounds simply because I'm so gone for whoever's in bed with me."

Conspirators the two of them. No doubt.

And there's a wicked playfulness to the curve of his lips that's softened by the scrunch of his nose, flopped ears brushing against his cheeks.

A lilted playfulness that dissolves in peals of giggles, laughter ringing out as Hobi and Minnie lunge for him, yelping as he squirms, foot kicking out, trying yet not fully trying to escape. Delighted at the immediate response, one swishing thick tail and the quick sways of Hobi's smaller tail.

Joon barely darts forward in time to rescue the tilting containers, tugging them away from reach and setting them down on the table, nudging it aside with a dimpled grin, tail wagging quick as he watches the two predators swipe at the squirming bun.

There's grins and unrestrained smiles wide across everyone's faces as they watch, (Y/N)'s own smile beaming and radiant. A small hitch of breath as fangs drag slowly against the curve of her neck.

No intent to mark. Just content to nibble and let his teeth and lips ghost along her skin, over where deep purpling marks almost violently and possessively stake their claim on her.

"Tae eat. You're just as bad as you were in rut!" she accuses.

His lips curve into a grin, nosing along her throat.

"I told you. You have the same affect on me out of rut."

"Smooth charmer. If I'm so distracting I'll sit on someone else."

A playful growl before he tugs her back, the distance between us no longer letting my lips linger close to hers, my own legs shifting as I sink back against the cushions. Moving the plate from my lap to tilt my head in silent offer.

She gives me a small wink, nodding, mouthing out something to me.

Wait for me.

"When I'm offering my services as your seat? I don't think so."

"Then eat~"

There's a soft rumble against her throat before he draws away, head tilting to peer at Yoongi, his stripey tail gently poking at a shoulder before he tilts his head towards a paper bag.

"Are those burgers from the diner near our old place?" eyes eager and body leaning forward, hand held outstretched for the bag Yoongi hands over with a grin.

The same fondness in his eyes as had been in the others, familiar takeout names, familiar places visited and frequented; a food run that'd taken half the pack out of the apartment. Yoongi, Minnie and Kookie all out whilst the rest of us remained in bed.

Far too content to leave. Far too content and drowsy, drifting off into light naps, curling closer, this time arms slung around one another, bodies pressing closer, lazily scenting, soft affection and hushed words turning more awake and cognizant.

"Your favourite." Yoongi confirms, smile gummy and tender, gently rubbing his cheek against the soft worn material of the sweatpants he's wearing. Nosing along the crease of his leg with an absent tactile need, eyes trailing to watch Tae tug out a wrapped burger.

Chest rumbling with chuffs as he impatiently tugs open the wrapping, teeth sinking in with gusto and a low throaty moan of approval.

"There's a cup of hot chocolate and cookies with your name on it..." Kookie lilts, eyes sparkling with tenderness as he looks at (Y/N).

Her ears perk.

"If you can manage to eat a burger and something else." Jiminie barters, fangs peeking as her lips part in automatic refusal.

Eyes narrowing and contemplating.

Beside him, Joon's dimples deepen, tail wagging when his eyes snag hers.

And they linger.

"The burgers are really good pup." His voice smooth and low, velvety and heavy in a way that's entirely persuasive and coaxing. In a way that softens the rumble in his throat, the gentle steering sway that the entire pack seems to have synced up on.

My lips twitch.

A collective pack decision to slowly begin trying to nudge our prey mate towards food that'd satisfy a week of eating and drinking that'd been thrown off schedule.

There's a similar sharpness to Tae's jaw, a faint distinction that alerts every single instinct of the pack's to tend to the two of them. Because even if their scents broadcast nothing but happiness and deep, deep biological satisfaction, such intense cycles take their toll.

Her fingers don't curl reluctantly around the burger.

And though it takes longer for her to eat, slow and unrushed. Almost carefully gauging her own limits.

And I know that part of it is so wholly and deeply engrained into biology to tend, to feel satisfaction and pride at providing for your mates. That it satiates instincts, satiates the needs hard-wired into our DNA that brims with a primal joy at seeing our mates eat.

There's a deeper, stronger giddiness in seeing that post cycles, post breeding hazes, post biology even... this satisfaction will always be mine.

I will never stop getting the pleasure of taking care of my mates.

And seeing their faces glow with happiness.

I won't ever stop wanting this.

And even as I have it... I want more. I want to have it on the other side of all this.

When (Y/N)'s free.

And our courting, our love isn't limited to the four walls of the apartment.

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

"So? Where's the bite?" Joon's the first to ask.

My lips curve wide at the nonchalance he tries and fails to adopt into his tone, a rough breathlessness, an eager burning gleam in his eyes and the quick wagging motion of his tail, thumps not heard but the sound of his tail cutting air audible. Leaning forward as he clambers into the nest, crawling onto the padded mattresses and bedding all piled and arranged onto the floor, muscles rippling with the motion.

The tiger in question... the tiger whose bite it is gives a wide preening grin, smirk all fangy and wicked.

Eyes glittering with primal delight.

There's a sudden tenseness as (Y/N) curls her hand into the blankets she was contentedly burrowing herself into, leaning against Tae and yet sandwiched in by Koo. Nosing eagerly along her jaw, his flopped ears perking at Joon's question.

Drawing back to peer at her, fingers drifting to brush against Jiminie's mark, watching her eyes flutter even as she burrows further into her self-wrapped burrito.

Tucking herself up.

"Feeling cold beautiful?" Hobi's eyes are curious and flickering with alert worry.

A small shake of her head, squirming at the featherlight brush of Kook's fingers teasingly drifting lower, shying away from her gland.

Careful with how readily her scent already seeps off her.

Glands working in overproduction.

"Just...cosy."

Joon's gaze narrows, flickering from Tae's smug smirk, fangs peeking past his lips, to (Y/N)'s swaddled form, dimples appearing at how happy she is at being burrowed between two mates, turning her head to nip at Tae's jaw.

"Hiding it are we?"

His grin deepens, chuff rumbling as he leans back, posture sprawled and a proud confident gait in his half-propped position.

"Guess they're going to have to find out."

"It's not...visible." Jiminie remarks.

There's a drawled lilt in his words, a rough heaviness in the timbre of his voice. A husky low croon in the natural dulcet of his Satoori, the words laced with a growl and his naturally rich voice honeyed thick. Dripping with the slowly enunciated observation.

Every word unrushed. Purposeful.

His body stretches languidly across the duvets, lazily sprawling across soft bedding.

Eyes narrowed slits trailing to me when a hand ghosts along the expanse of skin between my wing blades.

The faint drag of nails lightly ghosting along skin.

Body shuddering as I sprawl on the bedding, feeling the brush of fingers against my hand before Jiminie entangles his with mine.

Head tilting back, craning to see Yoongi's curved smile, slightly playful, slightly sharp.

Head tilting as he looks at me, tail swishing and curling.

"Not on her back." He muses, nails continuing their slow trail over skin, eliciting deep shudders, back tingling where he continues his lazy ministrations.

Something coy and cunning in the lilt of his mouth, the corners of soft pink lips curved up.

A teasing amusement in the way his touch makes my body feel like it's alight.

"Not on her neck." Joon rumbles.

Eyes glinting with a possessive pride, eyeing the large mark on her throat from his fangs and the other side of her neck claimed by the fox beside me, tail swishing lazily. Preeningly.

"No space." Jiminie murmurs, voice laced with a proud possessiveness.

"Not on her shoulders either." I remark, delighting silently in how the pink seems to build in her cheeks, turning flushed with rosy heat, eyes dark and warm and depthless.

Drawing us in one by one without realising.

Without consciously ever needing to try.

"Kept it purposely hidden? Or is it too private to let everyone else know?"

Everyone but us.

Hiding it from us... choosing the opportune timing himself for when to reveal it. That's indulgence and primal satisfaction and cocky knowledge in holding that card to his chest.

Knowing full well where it is.

And delighting in the impatience.

His legs are half-angled, half-sprawled wide, hand curved around the burrito fawn tucked against his side. Tugging her closer, arms winding around her, hoisting her onto his lap. Bundled fawn easily tugged onto the wide spread of his thighs, chuffing softly as she settles on his lap once more. Tae's hand reaches to loop around Koo's wrist to tug him closer, arm curved against his waist too, Kookie slotted against him instead.

My back burns with the scorching drag of fingers brushing against the base of my wings, where they meld to skin, where they're rooted. A sharp keening moan I can't stifle.

The air heavy and weighted for a long, long pause afterwards, the tips of my ears heated and flushed, head twisting to shoot a half-hearted glare at the smug panther.

And even then... even then his hand doesn't move.

Resting between my wings.

"Guess I'll leave it for you to find out."

Tae's drawl entangling with the crackling tension, mounting it to an almost suffocating level.

And the weighted stares trying to scour past blankets are futile.

And the knowledge of a hidden bite lingers on in our minds.

Burning hot.

AMINA POV:

"You smell off." Is the first words Jangmi says as she enters the room, nose wrinkling as she scrunches her face, hand drifting to absently tuck her hair away from her face, eyes drifting around the space with a casual alertness that's engrained now.

I don't know whether it stirs a comfort in me, a safe protectiveness read in her gesture. Or whether it pains me that she even has to be alert and cautious.

Part of that alertness comes from habit rubbing off on her. A larger part of it comes from circumstance moulding her that way.

"Morning to you too." Lips quirking, words dry, hand continuing to rub up and down KitKat's back, trying to coax her hiccups to still. She giggles delighted when another hiccup makes her pause, eyes widening with startle before they crinkle. One light blue, the other a soft, soft brown.

Cheeks curving up.

I don't let my hand still, don't let it show how much it aches to feel the knobs of her spine even under the soft jumper.

There's always going to be one reminder or the other. There's always going to be something that makes my blood boil at how KitKat is just one of the masses of children mistreated and trafficked. Always going feel a surge of wild untamed fury towards the ones who caused her to be so malnourished and hurt when I found her.

And a stronger unwavering protectiveness and love for my kit.

For my baby.

In response to her remark, I nose along my collar, trying to see what she's catching, KitKat's baby powder scent clouding out any sharpness I can detect from my own scent.

"Off how?"

"Just...off. You don't smell like yourself. Whose top is that?" curious and tilting her head at me. Eyes sharp from behind her glasses.

I look down, briefly having forgotten that I'd changed it earlier.

That I'd woken—gained awareness of my surroundings after an episode. That I'd felt disgusting in my own skin, clammy and overheated.

And had wanted to be out of the clothes clinging to me, wanted to scour away the sharp stinging strength of salt. Sweat and tears and my own scent all entangled together into a nauseatingly strong mix.

"I asked the wolf guy—Jisoo for clean clothes."

The door closes behind Jangmi before she slips in, brows faintly scrunched, approaching the bed before she sets the bag onto the blankets.

"I brought you some more too. But I thought the police hoodie was your favourite—stolen by KitKat?" she lilts, smile growing as she tilts her head towards the kit cradled in my arms, loud vocal yell in greeting.

"Bear!"

Hands scoop her away quickly, twirling with the giggling kit, Mi's touch replacing my own, trying to soothe the hiccups, pressing small quick kisses to her perked ears, watching as they flicker and fold, bonking her in eagerness for more, eager kitten licks as she squirms closer.

So easily, so readily extending the same affection to Mi.

So trusting and loving.

That's my kit.

Jangmi cradles her carefully, gently patting her back, soft coos and laughs as she tilts her head back, trying to escape with her glasses still intact, Kit's hand trying to tug them free, hand curled into a small fist around the frames.

"How's my bear?" I ask, approaching, gently drawing Kit's hand free, rescuing Mi's glasses, dark hair curling slightly against pink flushed cheeks. The tip of her nose also pink from cold, she's cold to the touch. Chilled and freezing despite the bundled layers, handing over my squirming kit to begin tugging off her coat.

"Good day today." She affirms with a smile, eyes soft and reassuring.

Answering the unspoken questions I don't need to say before she hears them regardless.

Did you sleep? Did you know where you were when you woke?

There's a faint sweetness clinging to her coat, the barest transfer of pheromones from a quick hug.

I know that sweetness.

"SJ got a hug before me?" teasing and light.

It makes a chirp rumble low in my throat, tail swishing smug and satisfied when her cheeks pinken a bit more, expression slightly flustered.

"His access card let me through to the wards. I couldn't find (Y/N)." expression slightly pinched and worried.

I wrap an arm around her to draw her into a hug, head resting on her shoulder, cheek rubbing against the thick-knit, nuzzling into it.

Into the soft honey scent that's pack.

"Heat. Jimin and Namjoon have both been on-edge." I murmur, absently curling closer and closer until Kit's sandwiched and cradled between the two of us, a hand gently tugging at my curls, tilting her head to let me curl against her properly.

Weight leaning against her, half-draped, tail giving slow swishes as I continue to scent my panda bear.

"That explains the café running shorter days. I didn't think Hoseok had a prickly side before." She adds, drawing away when KitKat squirms, tugging at Mi's hair gently.

"Bear!"

"Missed me little kit?"

There's soft purrs and yowls entangling with her eager nods, burrowing closer to her, small frame entirely encased and cradled securely, watching with fondness as Kit paws at her scarf, half-grabbing, half-kneading.

Nodding in quick succession.

Lips pressing a kiss to her jaw, nosing sweetly at Jangmi.

"I might steal her away Mina~" Jangmi lilts, gesturing to her bag with an eager gleam in her gaze, lips curved with a furtive mischief.

Happily swaying with the kit in her arms, eyes drifting around the room absently before settling her gaze to me.

Watching me draw out a large box of sliced fruits, reaching in for my favourite teas. The same berry-blend that fills our cupboards at home.

My tail sags, ears folding, pressing to my hair. Forlorn chirp muffled behind clamped lips.

"Mina?"

Quiet treads as she approaches.

"I want to go home. I don't want everything to come here. I want home."

"I do too. But until the doctor clears you medically, until we figure out how to try neutralise whatever mind-tricks the medicines still do—"

"My mind feels broken Mi. it's not a trick—I feel like my mind is broken." Yelping at the slightly harsh pinch of her fingers.

"Not broken. Never broken." Voice harsh and firm.

My ears droop further against my hair at the fierce intensity of her voice, the unwavering faith and unmoving strength.

When did panda bear get stronger?

Her nails brush gently against the back of my ears, small rubs that has them flickering and perking at the tips, head tilting to curl closer to the touch.

"You saved your baby. You saved yourself. Because of you we know that whoever's involved is someone you recognise. Don't... don't say you're broken."

Words firm and unrelenting, her gaze even more so. Dark and challenging me to refute her words.

A small self-depreciative smile curves at my lips.

Fangs pricking at dry lips, the briefest touch almost harsh and abrasive.

"When did panda bear grow claws?"

Her hand stills, drifting down to tug at a curl gently.

Eyes sharp and protective.

"Never had to use them before. Doesn't mean I won't now. And..." she tweaks a curl, fingers brushing over the unruly strand.

Lips brushing against KitKat's hair.

Lingering at a cloudy patch of skin at her temple. Nosing gently.

"You're a mother now. They're the strongest people ever. Isn't she Kat?"

A loud delighted affirmation.

"Mama!"

And her body lunging for me, freefalling and wriggling free from Jangmi.

My hands catch her easy, laughing as she curls against me, wide kit eyes trusting and loving and holding me in her pupils with the devotion and unwavering trust that for her... I am her entire world.

And I know... I know as she looks at me.

KitKat can see she's mine too.

I cradle her closer tightly, breathing in her scent.

Soothed by it immediately.

For KitKat, I would be nothing less than a wild unleashed animal. To protect her, I'd tear my claws through anyone and everyone who was a threat. Anyone who had hurt my kit.

They'd hurt my daughter.

And there was no redemption, no salvation, no mercy from that.

None.

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

"You smell off." I observe, lips quirking at the echo of Jangmi in my own words, watching as Namjoon enters the room, a tautness in his shoulders and a stiffness in his height. Towering and imposing. Unconsciously broadcasting the territorial-alpha-wolf instincts, his scent thick with it.

And though the hallways will be bereft of it. The diffusers cleansing every scent, keeping it at a controlled level of neutrality, his scent ripples with a caginess, a protectiveness that bleeds into his gaze, darkens the brown to a black glittering intensity.

Sharp and attentive.

Alert.

"I've been without two of my mates for days. Give me a break Lieutenant." A grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes fully but almost there.

Almost deep dimpled grin.

This smile is wry and knowing.

Fully aware of what his scent is doing.

Fully aware of how his biology is compensating by posturing.

"Heat not over?" brows rising.

"Unstable this time round." And as he grows closer I recognise one scent amongst the other familiar ones.

Citrus.

Sharp citrus.

"Your panther in rut too?" nose scrunching reflexively at the strong thickness of the predatory scent.

Turning the sweet fruity curl of pheromones into something tart. A sharp citrusy scent I can taste. Like taking a bite into a sour segment of orange.

Not bad. Just. Different.

Different to the sweetness I'd smelt when he'd entered with my shifted kit in his arms.

"Almost. Something like that." He shrugs, ears perking when from her nest, steadily growing, KitKat clambers out with a soft yowl, padding forward with quick scurrying motions, soft meowls softening his scent, his hands scooping her with ease.

Though there's no denying Namjoon is a big alpha in every sense of the word. Of the title, there's an endearing gentleness, a newness for him in how he greets her.

It feels like he's not accustomed to being so gentle and yet... yet there's an unwavering protectiveness in his movements, securing her close before he draws her up, smile turning deep and unrestrained. Deep dimpled grooves as she meowls and eagerly leans to press kitten licks to his skin.

He's not used to it. But he's taken to caring for KitKat with a fierce eagerness, his chest rumbling with a deep growl. Protective and cocooning in its reverberating heaviness.

It makes her small ears flicker and droop, body curling closer to him, almost swallowed whole in the large pan of his hands, fur against skin, yowling quietly as she noses along his fingers, trying to nibble.

"I don't envy your team at the moment." I murmur, sinking back into the bed, sprawling back, body half curved as I watch Namjoon continue to brush his fingers over soft fur, rubbing gently. Coaxing a stream of meowls and purrs, soft and rumbly and baby in comparison to the deeper alpha-wolf rumbles that entangle with her happy sounds.

"Why? Because I smell off? Never worked with officers in pre?"

I shrug.

"Sometimes that helps with interrogations. More intimidating, more... demanding. It also backfires. Shorter patience. No good-cop, bad-cop... just growling officers prowling about."

He tilts his head in curious examination.

A dark contemplative gleam that forebodes and promises danger. Good danger.

"You sound like you've had your fair share of bloodied knuckles yourself Lieutenant Fang."

My fangs prick at my bottom lip.

"Me?" faux-coy.

He nods, grin deepening.

Something animal in the predatory flare of instinct.

But even so—I trust Kit with him. I trust he's in full control.

"Don't know what you mean." I wave off, fingers absently brushing over the pillow.

The sea-salt scent entangled with baby powder.

"All I'm saying is... maybe active aggression. Maybe showing the bastards that hybrid officers... that when it comes to defending and protecting. We go to any length needed."

My eyes drift to my nails, examining them morosely.

They're not the same well-kept state they've always been. Perfectly maintained and precise.

These nails are cut close. The amount of time it'd taken to scrub the dirt free from them, the dried blood and dirt... they're not—

"Get away from me."

"You're not making it out alive Lieutenant... do you want me to make the house call? Visit your pack-less panda. Maybe she'll have something new to write now—"

An inhumane sound ripples through the air, threatened and warning. The heat of something wet against my nails, a sharp curse and a sharper smack, the tang of blood on my lips.

My lips twist into a snarl.

Fangs bared.

I can barely make the figure out over me.

But I do everything to stare at him.

Know that my gaze holds his.

"I'll make it hurt all over again if you so much as approach my pack."

"Oh lieutenant... what you don't know is going to be exactly what hurts you."

"Namjoon."

Saying his name doesn't dispel the low cocky voice from my mind immediately.

Something about it seems. Aged. Wicked and cruel in his taunt.

His.

The slither of the memory fades as quick as it comes. But it sinks in with a clarity that I know it to be true.

His body immediately straightens, eyes sharpening at my tone. Narrowing down to the way his name's slipped past my lips. Body shifting to a keen alertness.

"Amina." Voice neutral and careful.

"I think—I think one of the people who... who were there. One of them was a man. An older man."

There's a sharp examining intensity to his dark eyes.

"Why?"

Not challenging, not refuting. Questioning. And it's good.

It makes me search the memory all over again, mind scouring over it with a feverishness once more. Taking it apart bit by bit.

Turning over ever fragment.

The disembodied voice cruel and rough.

Vicious.

"This voice... this voice sounds it. It's aged. It's..."

His eyes prompt me for more without pushing for it immediately.

"He sounds... that this. That what happened, what is happening... it's a revenge."

Because somewhere in the fog of memories and drugs, of nightmares and reality blurred together there's a viciousness that's meant to cut. The threat to Jangmi, to visit, to break my packmate. The promise to hurt. The promise that she'd never know.

It only cements it.

They wanted to make it hurt.

And there'd been wicked, merciless cold joy in his voice when he'd said it.

There'd been a promise to enact the cold-blooded ruthlessness. And somewhere... somewhere in my mind it stirred alarm bells again.

"Trust your instincts Mina... they've kept you alive. They've helped you survive."

"Revenge for what?"

"I don't know—but it's personal. For the mole in the police force, it's personal."

JANGMI POV:

"....mi... Mi, Jangmi are you okay?" a voice asks, timbre low and slightly harried.

It takes a few long minutes to realise that my attention's drifted, that I'd come to a physical standstill, hand hovering over Amina's bedroom door. Longer still to realise the voice isn't imagined, turning to it when it calls my name again.

SJ.

"When did you get here Junie?" I ask, firming my resolve and letting my hand push open the bedroom door, the scent of sea-salt still fading, still not as fresh as it had been the day Amina had left.

"You called me remember? But when I came you were already asleep—Mi are you okay?" he repeats, hand curling around my forearm, body hovering close, barring the entrance to her room as he peers at me, dark eyes anxious and searching.

I pause, gaze drifting to him, his lips twisted into a frown, the scent of peaches turning sharp and fleetingly decayed.

The faint dip in his scent makes my own stiffen and turn sharp, suddenly feeling more lost and confused, because how... how long ago had that been? And why didn't I remember?

My hand falls away from the handle and his scent seeps out rich and strong and his posture taller and protective, hand squeezing gently.

"It'll come back slowly remember. Bits and pieces." He reassures.

I nod slowly, ears flickering at the unwavering strength in his voice, his hand curling to brush against my elbow, steering me into the room with a warmth and fierce, fierce resolve in his smile.

"What were you going to look for?" he asks once we've stepped through into the room, his eyes sweeping over the inside with a familiarity and ease, with a sharpness that's been trained, instinctively searching out every corner, every nook for a threat, body uncoiling into a loose grace as he steps close to me. There's an alertness that's at odds with how late it is. With how despite it being long since the late, late hours of the night he's still alert and awake.

"Amina... I realised when I was writing... she's back. She's safe... the files, the data... the intel can help figure out who has ties to the case. We can get the info to the officers to close in on the people who hurt Mina." I mumble, already moving past, fingers skimming across the made bed before sinking down, hand unconsciously gripping the thick duvet, chasing the comfort and the tang of sea-salt it carries.

There's a sharpness to the peach scent, eyes turning wide for an instant before SJ hurries forward, sinking down into a crouch, hands clasping my wrists gently, thumbs brushing to scent lightly.

Even crouching he seems to tower, the added height of his antlers tall and proud, imposing on the space as if he owns it, owns the emptiness that suddenly seems filled.

"Amina left files. And you didn't hand them over?" voice curious and soft.

"Unless I die, unless I come back in a body bag... unless you know I'm gone, don't give anyone the files. Don't trust the police until you know you can." I echo, feeling his fingers tighten reflexively, a startled, pained expression searing across his features before agonised realisation sets in.

"Mi... she's been back weeks." Voice soft.

My hands blindly reach to grasp onto something, his hands loosening only to entangle with mine, squeezing tightly as I tug him closer, voice anguished and quiet.

"But I keep forgetting. I keep... I keep waking and I can't remember that Amina's safe. I... I remember. I remember that I need to give the files and that Amina's safe. I remember that more and more now." Voice resolute even as it wavers, his hands not relenting their hold when I try draw away, fumbling to try get to where the files could be.

And it'd been such a good run of the past few days. It'd all been going well.

"You need to stop blaming yourself first of all. And second... we'll get the files to Jimin and Namjoon."

I nod, fingers absently curling and unfurling, brushing against his.

My mind felt like sludge more often than not and I needed to be clear-headed.

Not just for the sake of helping get Amina's kidnappers caught but because Amina needed me, and I could see that our pack was growing. That KitKat was Amina's, that there was a fierce biological driven bond between them, a fierce relentlessness to protect the little kit.

Amina wasn't going to let KitKat get caught in the crossfire.

And for that I needed to help. I needed to make sure our home was as safe as it could be when the two came home.

I couldn't be a broken mess when my pack needed me. When Amina needed me. I needed to—I needed to be stronger for her, for her kitten.

And more and more, a part of me ached restlessly for the baby bear who'd become more and more part of the reasons I felt focused, I felt clear enough to focus.

The centre was becoming a refuge and safety and tether, drawing me away from the semi-permanent cagey sensation the house was being associated with.

"....Mi. Jangmi—honey bear just focus on me." Voice drawing me back to him, reeling me back to the present and tethering me to the solid grounding firmness of his voice, his eyes dark and soft in equal measure.

"Where are the files panda bear?"

I rack my mind desperately for where they would be, remembering the ringing determination in Amina's words, eyes blazing and demanding.

"Never let anyone you don't trust in Jangmi. If you have any doubt... never ignore your gut."

"She didn't say specifically where she left the files, but I know they're in her room... there's some psychological profiles I worked on. I don't know who they are but there's lots to be said by their behaviour you know? I worked on it constantly when..." when Mina was taken. Trying to figure out who... what sort of monster would have taken her.

"You did?" he murmurs, eyes tracking me as I move off her bed to slip to the far end of the room, sinking down in front of filled shelves. Reaching for a notebook I'd kept slotted between others, tugging it out with trembling fingers.

I remembered how bleak and hollow I'd been then. Desperate to try pinpoint even one person it could be... to go off of what Amina would share... the little she would talk about the trafficker case. I remember how numb the growing conclusions I drew left me as.

The notebook hasn't been touched for the better part of nearly two months. Yet there's no dust gathering on it, room kept meticulously clean, over and over, even more so now because Amina could be back any day. And the last thing she needed was to come back to her room dusty and unfit for her to sleep in again.

My fingers brush over the spine of the notebook, deceptively unrevealing of everything it holds. Bits and pieces Amina told me, bits and pieces I gathered, countless potential profiles for the type of people that must be involved.

There's a stiffness I don't expect, a tightness to SJ's posture as he looks at the notebook in my hand, a shakiness to his words as his eyes hold mine. Burning with a searing intensity.

There's a tightness to SJ's posture as he examines the stack of files, a shakiness to his words as his eyes hold mine. Burning with a searing intensity.

"Mi—you tore apart your mind for months trying to figure out everything alone. You kept a book profiling the same people who took Amina... what if someone broke in and found it? What if you were closer than you thought and this book put a target on your head?" he hisses, eyes glowering with a heated fierceness that stings for a moment. My steps falter, weak honey scent souring under the sharpness of his pheromones, his presence that towers and fills the space.

"The monsters need to be caught SJ. All I did was try figure out personalities. I don't know names... I don't know faces... I've been sitting with my hands tied for months. What wrong did I do?"

His stance is stiff with unease, with protectiveness that makes his height and stance commandeer the very space of her room, his scent however softens. Peach scent turning sweeter and lighter in apology, his ears flickering as his lips curve downwards.

"I'm not—it just... when I think of the months you suffered alone... you tried to figure it out alone... Mi I'm sorry." Miserableness etched deeply into his every feature.

My hands cradle the notebook close.

Ears folding at the sight of his guilt and sorrow.

"Seo Junie... Amina's back right?"

His eyes flash, concern flitting over his features as he nods.

"She is."

She's not a dream.

I shrug my shoulders.

"So there's no reason for the possibility of a threat to exist... the files will go to Jimin and Namjoon. And so you don't need to worry SJ. The notebook can go too." I soothe.

His head ducks, shoulders hunched.

Rueful as he toes the carpet.

"I think I'll always worry."

My scent softens, entangles with the sweetness of his peach, curling together. Find his lips quirking at the corners, something wistful and aching in his gaze.

"I'll try not to make you then fussy buck."

He grins now, sharp eyes bright with delight and warmth.

"Impossible. I tend to fret over a certain honeyed hybrid."

I feel my cheeks heat, flush under the warm weight of his gaze before he laughs, reaching out to take the files from me, fingers lingering against my own before they pluck the sleeve of the jumper. Something pleased in his eyes.

"It suits you."

It's a belated realisation that the jumper is his and the scent clinging to the soft worn fabric is the faint sweetness of his pheromones, fruity and gentle on my senses. Soothing and grounding me unconsciously.

I feel my lips tug up.

I remember choosing it to wear, it's not lost in the blurred haze that being awake and sleep often are.

I remember choosing the jumper to wear. I remember choosing it.

I remember... remember tugging it on waiting for him to arrive, remember being soothed back to sleep by it, remember leaning back against the pillows, remember my fingers curled around my phone and body curled close to Amina's soft pup.

I remember SJ's voice. Filtering through the fog of sleep, past the hollow emptiness of feeling isolated and alone and lost in my own home.

"I remember you left it behind last time." I recollect.

His face brightens, radiant with the small remark before his fingers loop around my wrist to draw me close.

"Bit by bit..."

"It'll all come back." I finish.

He nods happily.

"Hungry? We can't turn the files in this late—the two of them will be home. How does pizza sound?"

My stomach rumbles, answering on my behalf and his laugh is teasing and warm as he leads me out of Amina's room, fingers unfurling from my wrist to poke at a flushed cheek.

"Sounds like a very loud yes."

"And then we find the files." I murmur.

His hands settle on my shoulders to steer me towards the living room, my lips curving when they catch sight of the yellow pup set on the middle of the long couch.

"Then we find the files."

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

SJ's posture is impossibly stiff, flanking me with a sharp alertness, scent almost sharp, the peaches scent losing its sweetness with his protectiveness, barely a beat behind me as I step into the station, ears flickering at the sudden assault of noises, flinching back at the swarm of scents that are too much too soon.

From going months on end with just the fading scent of sea-salt and bitter honey, from going months of being isolated and having no scents in the house, to the neutral, breathable nature of the centre to the sudden swarm at the station has my head spinning.

Clamping down on the distress that bubbles up in my throat, head ducking away to nose at the jacket, tugging it tighter around me. I don't realise my body's shrunk back until I feel SJ's chest press to my back, hand curling around my shoulder and tugging me away from the dizzying pulse of pheromones, turning me from the doors to him.

"Breathe honey bear." Voice coaxing and commanding both, grounding me with the safe familiarity of his scent and presence, arms cradling me close.

A buoy even whilst everyone else drifts around us, grounding in the disorienting torrent of countless scents clogged together into a space.

Grounding and steadying even as I slowly draw away, trying to draw in shallow breaths that doesn't make me dizzy with every inhale, wary and drawing inwards and against the towering protective flank SJ makes as we make our way to the Hybrid Violent Crimes Unit.

The section of the station carriers a sombreness that's both unmissed and cocoons the space with a tense fraught tension veering over a precipice; this close to the tether snapping.

And SJ picks apart two faces from the small team of officers working away, weaves a path towards them, eyes flicking back to watch me follow behind him.

Peering at the two tall dog hybrid officers whose gaze drifts from SJ; familiarity and cordial warmth in their expression and warm geniality when they peer at me.

"Brought a friend Seo Jun-ah?"

"A friend but also a key, key part of your case."

Words quietly murmured, without drawing attention from the other officers but there's something sharp that simultaneously flickers in both their features before one of the officers lean forward.

"Do you need Officer Kim?"

"Preferably him or Officer Park." I speak, stepping out from behind SJ, eyes silently taking the two in, trying to gauge from their scent and expressions alone whether or not they're safe. Whether I can go based on SJ's behaviour towards them alone.

Don't trust anyone until your gut tells you. What one person sees them as, it's not necessary you'll see them the same way.

Officer Park. He was someone I trusted. And he'd be the person to get the profiles. He'd be the one to get the file. Him and Officer Kim. The two of them alone.

And I'd have to trust whoever they entrusted the intel with, the team they chose to share with.

But it wasn't going into the wrong hands because I wasn't careful.

And despite the safety SJ imbues, despite the lack of threat or danger the two hybrids in front of me radiate, something else rankles my instincts and my skin prickles with the distinctive feeling that something isn't right. That distinct feeling that I'm being watched.

­-----------

"And these are your psychological profiles for what our perpetrators are?" Jimin asks, eyes sharp and assessing, leaning forward to pick up the notebook.

His scent is sharp. The intensity of the sweet, fresh mint turned stinging and powerful. Stronger than I've ever smelt it.

It'd already been sharp before I stepped into the office.

There's no SJ in the room but there's no need to hide. There's no need to feel unsafe or threatened, peering up at the two officers who look at the notebook and then me with varying degrees of intense concentration.

"Not just the ones getting their hands dirty. The lower level brawn... more the type of minds behind this. You have to have an extreme sense of apathy to target children. To experiment on them. To have a complete disregard for hybrids whilst being a hybrid. You're working against a neurotic level of deranged extremes. These people don't care how they get what they want. And how much damage happens as a consequence."

"Is there something specific that makes you think that Jangmi? You've worked on family psychology more."

I tilt my head to the notebook, fingers drumming nervously against the wood before leaning forward.

Eyes meeting the sharp intelligence of the alpha wolf's, his gaze just as intent and focused as Jimin's on the notebook but now the weight of that gaze settles on me.

"I'm not saying I don't trust your judgement. I'm wondering why you think it's neurosis and deranged behaviour."

"The two children that survived were chance... Mina saved Min-Junie and Ji Ah ran but the point is they weren't meant to survive. They weren't meant to ever break out of the barn..."

"How do you figure the barn is where the children were being trained?" curious foxy eyes peering at me, pausing in thumbing through the pages. Tail swishing as he gives me his undivided attention.

My fingers curl and unfurl, resting against the desk.

"Amina said the barn was full of children hybrids. But they're not the only one missing... I think a location ties to a specific type of hybrid."

There's fire burning in Namjoon's eyes, a sharp glint of comprehension as the puzzle pieces become less muddled, less obscure.

"So the fact that the missing reports are in a certain age limit for adults. From students to new parents..."

"Then the criteria is for people that fit a certain range for their ability to be impregnated or do the knocking up. They're taking people at the peak of their fertility. People who are perfectly breeding machines—giving or taking. The people who think hybrids function as sex toys are sickos. It's not a biological imbalance or personality disorder that causes that... it's pure apathy.

"Amina didn't share much. But it's clear from the missing reports, it's clear from the criteria in all of them that they wanted textbook breeding machines in these hybrids. High natural libidos, women at the peak of their fertility, men with high reproductivity rates... the people you're looking for were marketing people on their ability to be knocked up. On their ability to impregnate countless women. You're looking for deranged sickos who've equated hybrids to sex machines."

There's a cold ruthlessness and viciousness that hardens their gazes, turns them stiff and unyielding. But they're not ice. They're not stony and indifferent. The blaze in their gazes is one that numbs and burns, a scorching intensity so fierce it takes the ability away to feel.

"Amina believes at least one of them—and we think there's more, are fuelled by a need for revenge." Namjoon states.

I examine the sharp clench of his jaw, imagining instantly the rough grind of fangs and teeth at his gums.

"That'd fit the profile. Neurosis and revenge—it's one of the worst mixes. Whoever it'll be... they won't have any regret, any limits. They'll do anything to get what they want."

There's a painful, raw brief flicker of their eyes holding each other.

Anguished and sharp and brittle.

I don't need to ask why.

I know.

"And (Y/N)'s one of their targets." I finish grimly.

The horrific picture we've managed to piece together does nothing to alleviate the worry, makes the sick nausea flare with a bubbling vengeance.

"You have to protect her with your lives."

There's nothing but unwavering solid certainty in their eyes.

Nothing but raw truth in Jimin's voice.

"To every last breath."

And it sinks in.

More and more.

Sharp crystal clarity.

That protecting her will be at whatever cost. No matter how much they have to dirty their hands for it.

No matter if it costs them... them.

And the thought is frightening that they may have to reach those lengths.

It's just as much frightening as it is understandable.

That for pack no limit can truly hold back what pure instincts and DNA wire us for.

And I wish—I wish I could've done more for Amina.

That I could've prevented it from happening somehow.

And all the more fiercely ready to make sure that it never happens again.

Never to another friend.

To another pack.

(AND SCENE! GODDAMN. THAT TOOK FAR TOO LONG TO WRITE BUT THIS NEW COURSE IS EXHAUSTING AND I'VE BEEN SNEAKING WRITING HERE AND THERE BETWEEN AND HONESTLY! THE FIRST POV ALONE WAS A CHAPTER LENGTH ALREADY BUT HEY HAVE 33K+ ANYWAYS~ AND SO!! THOUGHTS?? TO THE END OF THE MATING? TO THE BITE? TO THE PACK PILES~ AND THEN TO SOME MORE BRRRR SUBPLOT THAT MAKES ME VERY GRRRR AND EAGER TO WRITE MORE AND MORE! I WONDER WHAT'LL HAPPEN WITH YOONGI'S PRE-RUT~ AND! I KNOW THIS HAS BEEN SAID BUT AS ACTUAL HALF ANIMALS—THEIR LIBIDO AND STAMINA IS. UN. MATCHED. TO HUMAN STANDARDS XD AND SO IT REALLY SHOULDN'T BE! Midiiplier IF YOU'RE NOT A PUDDLE THEN CLEARLY I HAVE FAILED AND NOTHING IS RIGHT IN THE WORLD WHATSOEVER! CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU ALL THOUGHT... TAKE CARE AND ENJOY!)

Question... REVENGE?? FOR WHAT?

Mine is... *CENSORED*

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3