#moonsent

Waking up by your body's own discernment and not some unwelcome, external influence was a luxury these days. The usual, militant door-rapping that assailed your ears each dawn was wonderfully absent this morning. Indeed, the sun had risen many hours ago. Perhaps it had even set. The light that illuminated your bedchamber was so unobtrusive it was difficult to discern the time. All that mattered to you, though, was that you had woken with crusty, rested eyes and a spring to your step.

Jungkook was noticeably absent; in presence, in warmth, and in another, arcane capacity. One you'd never have entertained possible before your mating. Once bitten, however, his venom had forged, between you, an umbilical tie. It tirelessly relayed to you his proximity and wellbeing, even instances of strong emotion. It was impossible to source just where inside you this thread began, and where it ended. All that was apparent was that it was of him, and he was as staunch a part of you, now, as any organ.

The tether was a satisfying thrum today. Jungkook was happy, and he was near. A smile cinched your cheeks upon feeling this. As to why he was gone so early from bed, and without prior warning, yes, you had questions. But he projected no uneasiness, and therefore the day was a good one. Moreso because he’d stoked the fires as you slept, ensuring you a comfortable awakening.

On mornings when den matters weren’t quite so pressing, he greeted you with the tip of his tongue. Today, however, golden light licked at your calves when your mate could not. The cabin crackled all round, ushering you into its similarly-lit kitchen. More of habit than conscious thought, the brass kettle was filled by your hand and lowered to the stove. You were present elsewhere, past the thin pane of glass you peered from. Outside was as cruel and cold as it always was, barely a detail detectable amidst the swathes of snow. It might have been pretty, were you a stranger to its unending imposition. As a resident - and rebel - however, it was nothing but a constant foil. Thankfully, for the time being, you were not out there. You were baking by the fire, swaddled in the scent and security of Jungkook's sizeable undershirt.

And he was home.

You sensed it long before the door hinges rattled. Your connection was so abuzz with anticipatory fever that it threatened combustion. While weak at distance, the tether was heightened when close. Sometimes unbearably so. And he was so close that you could smell him if you had his nose.

As prophesied, Jungkook blew in with a drift of snow that he banished immediately. The door was a stiff, gnarled old thing that was desperately in need of restoration. For you, manoeuvring it without the aid of Jungkook was folly. He, however, had no trouble shouldering it into its frame, like it was nothing more than wafer.

"Good morning. Or evening, or whatever it may be," you greeted with a grin to rival his. Why either of you wore such ardent expressions would likely be a mystery to any bystander. But for the two of you, it was simple. Love and desire curated every of your interactions. It bared your teeth with glee. And in Jungkook’s case, fangs.

His scarf came away with a tug. "It is morning." Jungkook was breathless by cold. Clouds encapsulated his words. "Late morning. And it was an extremely productive day. Things are happening, ____."

The kettle wound up to a shriek, snatching your attention. "What a shame I didn't get to be a part of that." Though turned away, your pout was palpable. "Why did you not wake me?"

"Darling," he started, and that alone thawed you quicker than the stream of steam buffeting your chin. "Every night I have put you through your paces—" elaboration wasn't necessary "—and every, early morning I have dragged you to den meetings. I thought it high time I allow you rest."

"I appreciate that,” and you do, you truly do. Because coupling with the beast of your dreams, often successively, does possess downsides. Well, perhaps only one. That being the resultant, occasional chafe. Some days you’re rawer than frostbite. "But you know how much I dislike being out of the loop."

"Then allow me to illuminate you." By the soft swishes of disrobement behind you, Jungkook had peeled himself of his rimy outerwear. "We've cemented the alliance. Pack Hux has agreed to join our efforts."

Teacups tumbled from your hands. "Truly?" Sullen act forgotten, you twirled to face him. Jungkook was advancing, prising the gloves from his frosted fingers. A sharp smile tugged apart his sore, chapped lips. God, he stole breath as well as the winter. Cold had brushed his cheeks ruby, and just the tip of his nose, too. "It seemed so unlikely."

"I know." The wolf swept a predatory eye along the bare lines of your legs. Feasted, black and hungry, on your provocatively jutted chest.

Was it provocation, though, or presentation?

Even now, it was difficult to ascertain. Militia life had instilled in you a sense of assumed authority. Jungkook’s indomitable will, however, was always so quick to dismantle you. And by then, the only thing of import was how best to make your pliancy, your Godsworn submission, known. He bade it of you without so much as opening his mouth. Well, perhaps only to lick his lips. That was all it took for you to offer up your belly to him. "...when one of your dens is pillaged like that. I imagine that had something to do with it.” A pause. “____? Are you listening?"

You didn't dare share your inattention with him, especially over a matter so important. Jungkook knew anyway. He smiled crooked, showcasing one, tapered fang. "A little distracted, are we?" The accusation was a throaty rumble that travelled your bones. He was so close, so rich in musk that is was dizzying. Jungkook stooped the distance, a hair's breadth between your mouths. "What were you doing while I was gone?"

"I—Nothing," you muttered, bewitched by the hunger haunting your mate’s eyes. His breath was hot, familiar, and ever welcome. "I was sleeping."

A tilt of his head. A click of his tongue. "I don't believe you." Jungkook grazed the words against your parted lips. "You smell like some sort of fucking heaven. I know you've been up to something, ____."

"I haven't," you murmured into his mouth, riveted by the carnal force he exuded. "I'm still recovering from last night."

"Oh?" All became ablur as he span your back to him. Icy fingers trawled your naked thighs, pulling goosegumps in their wake. Jungkook's palms weren't long before they were buried beneath your scant shirt, a firm, cool grasp on the tenderest part of your inner thighs. His thumbs converged, gentle, upon the curve of your cunt. "Because you're as slippery as a fresh catch." Jungkook's breathy mass bore down on your back, coaxing you into a position of deference. Smothered and sweating, you propped your rump high, led by an instinctual desire to be dominated. The strength of his patriarchal influence was that that your legs trembled, rather than spread, open.

Fuck, you craved him. Because only he could fill you, like food does a starving man.

"G-God, you're cold." Your teeth chattered in illustration. It was as much a moan as a protest, however, and Jungkook was nothing if not a man invested in both pleasure and pain.

"And you're enjoying it, love." His torso, as densely built as anything masonry could conceive, cladded your spine as he curved over you. In this intimate clinch he craned closer, affixing his lips to the column of your throat. You tilted your head aside to allow him the plot of skin he duly owned. Owned, loved, and laved, his nose upon your jugular and his tongue, his lips, sucking last night's marks darker. "Have no worry. I can get you hot rather quickly. Fuck, you smell so good," he purred, a curious, whiny noise not in keeping with his usual, gruff stoicism. "You smell like—" fangs dipped shallowly into your flesh "—like—" a familiarly intimidating mass swelled by your unclothed backside "—like me. Like mine."

The thudding at your centre resonated all the more for feeling his cock awaken. "I am that," you gasped a mouthful of your bedraggled bed-hair.

Jungkook's windburnt cheek pressed to yours in passing, possessed by his usual desire to scent you. With his nose at your temple, he sniffed through your hairline like a dog through the undergrowth. The vehemence of it tickled you, figuratively and physically, as his lupine quirks always did. A giggle rattled in your ribcage, summoning him back. Eclipsed eyes bore into yours, dark and deadly. "And what, pray-tell, is so amusing?" Your laugh was as soon a doleful whimper when he stuck you with his fully-fleshed cock, trapped by britches but menacing your cunt nonetheless. "Nothing will be quite so funny when you're brimming with spunk and, yet, begging for more."

A growl weaved through his glorious warning. And like the servile little slut you were, you beseeched him as best you could, with whispered pleas and a lewd rolling of your hips. "Mm, yes. Please."

That was all Jungkook needed to grasp you, plant you to his hips with two, calloused hands, his tented length surging along the slit of your pussy. So taut was he that you could perch upon it, feel the beat of its desire. No longer content with you prostrate over the counter, your mate yanked you upward and back, to crash against his broad body. Like sails in a squall, your arms tangled blindly about his neck, offering up your loosely-covered bust. He took it, of course. Jungkook snapped from your hips to your breasts, gathering your flesh into urgent fistfuls. Grunts of enjoyment warmed your jawline as he lapped at you there, but the noise you made was quite different.

You shrieked.

In a lightning's flash Jungkook had unhanded you, eyes dilated and wide with unknowing. "Did I hurt you?"

Your palms cupped your chest like it were fragile, fine china. "No—Well. A little, yes. It's not your fault. I've been very tender these last few days." Indeed, as you held yourself now, you felt fuller in form and proportionate in discomfort.

Panic unfounded, Jungkook was quick to bring your body back close. He did not reassert his dominance, however. Instead, he applied your front to his, a softer hand pawing at your breast. Beneath his firm but forgiving fingers, he pried from you a sigh of contentment. Something like confusion, perhaps concern, crinkled his brow. "You said nothing of this last night, nor the one before."

"You didn't grasp me quite so hard th-then." Your final breath faltered as he rolled you akin to dough in both his hands. Gentle mewling wound from your lips. "There's no need for concern."

A tangle of wild hair fell across Jungkook's eyes. They glinted beneath. "Oh, is it that time?" he marvelled aloud, breathing shallow. His excitement was palpable. Moreso when nosediving to the gully between your swollen breasts, not so much nuzzling them as losing the entirety of his face to them. As you gazed upon him, his lashes long and sweeping your skin, something more veracious than love stewed within you.

This wondrous man was yours.

It was on this thought that Jungkook reanimated, dragging a long, appreciative breath through his stifled nostrils. He opened his eyes onto you. "Do I finally get to see my mate bleed?" Rough, dry lips chafed questions against your flesh. "Feel her, red and fertile, on my cock? Perhaps a taste of her tang on my ready tongue?

Jungkook's debauched wishes were something he aired often, vehemently, and therefore bore little surprise now. No, you, too, wanted it as he did. Passionate, brutal; scenes of red and a broken bed. An encounter indistinguishable from that of his hunts.

Because the more you nurtured your bestial bond, the more you comprehended his kind. How fine the line between death and rapture. Between your blood and his. How you were one, circular soul.

Wait.

Engulfed in his reverent hold, a realisation trickled through. "I don't know," you whispered, gaze fixed on another time, on another plane. As you peered into the past, your fingers found anchorage in his hair, twisting themselves amidst his thick, unkempt mop. "I-I don't know if you will get to." God, your heart was a chariot of fire, galloping into the unknown. "I haven't bled for near two months."

This held no significance for Jungkook, who had the strings of your commandeered shirt between his teeth for your imminent disrobing. He directed an eyebrow upwards. "What? Is that abnormal for humans of age?"

"Possibly, but in my case it may be indicative of—" your hand coasted beneath Jungkook's embrace to settle upon your stomach. With every inch it descended, his eyes widened incrementally. "—something else."

And just like that, he was no longer holding you but a devout on his knees, awed by the miracle of your moon-blessed uterus. His fingers fell like feathers to your abdomen, never quite exerting the pressure of touch. "You smell like me. Not like me, but—" an excited whine stole the apex of his revelation. Had he a tail, it would likely be wagging. "—like wolf. You are with child. Children. Children!" he declared, to you, to the heavens, to the progeny he had sired. "Our children. Our pups—oh, ____, my moon. My love—"

Joyous and giddy, you lay a hand on the thew of his back. Tears collected in a deluge, ready to fall. "Is it really true?"

Disparate to his gentle handling of your body, the shirt you wore was treated with no such consideration. He tore it with tooth and claw, until there was but a little left hanging from your shoulders. From there you were bare, or with nature as he called it. And, creature of nature as he was, he looked most at home here, clasping your thighs so he could press his nose to your exposed cunt. He scented you for a long, indulgent while, his eyes flickering in and out of fierce contemplation. And then he stopped. Peered up, breathless, and so alive. "I smell it on you. In you. You're carrying my pups, ____."

Oh, how you sobbed. The dam buckled and cast you afloat. "Jungkook." His name was little more than a weak squawk, but it was all he required. After much neglect, he wrapped your torso with glorious heat, suffocating you with his brawn. He rained as many kisses as tears, the kind that allowed little time for breath in between. Only tongue, and saliva, and then his hands on the round of your ass, hoisting you high up his body. Your legs dangled feebly from his waist, at the mercy of his uncoordinated footing. Some minor collisions later, Jungkook saw you safely to the bed. There, he thanked you. Again and again, he thanked you.

The endless winter sorrowed all who endured it. But not you. Not here. Here was a hearth of love and hope. The seed of a union war could not spoil.