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jaythes1mp · 3 months ago

Text

Here, Kitty.

Yan batfam x cat hybrid reader -> CH2

14925 words, 84394 characters, 792 sentences, 338 paragraphs, 59.7 pages. Previous chapter

As you come back to consciousness, you find yourself nestled comfortably on a luxurious cat bed that feels almost too extravagant to be real. The surroundings are lavish and comfortable, the room itself enormous, with almost too much space to take in all at once.

You're not sure where you are, but one thing you know for certain – is that it is definitely not your apartment.

You push yourself up from the plush bed, your paws sinking into the decadent fabric as you take a moment to survey your surroundings. The room is a mix of modern and traditional, with a hint of something distinctly Wayne Manor-esque. The furnishings are plush and expensive, and the entire room is immaculate, every surface spotlessly clean.

You can see a large window at the far end of the room, offering a view of Gotham City’s skyline.

You take another moment to look around, taking everything in as you process your new surroundings. It seems you're in a large living room of sorts, furnished with rich, high-end furniture and expensive-looking decor. Tall bookshelves line the walls, filled with all manner of books and trinkets. The most striking feature, however, is the excessive number of cat trees and wall climbers scattered throughout the room.

Confusion overtakes you for a moment, your mind still fuzzy from sleep as you try to figure out what the hell happened to lead you here.

As you shift up, adjusting your position on the plush bed, a small, bell-like sound rings through the air. In that moment, the memories flood back to you all at once. Nightwing, Robin, the strange collar.

The sudden, restrictive feeling around your neck is a stark reminder of your current predicament.

As the memories come flooding back to you, you instinctively try to raise a paw to rub at the collar around your neck, only to find that it's fastened on tight, the hooks holding it in place digging into your fur. Your movements are still a little sluggish from your previous unconscious state, making you feel more vulnerable than usual, trapped, in a place you don’t recognise.

As your gaze drifts downwards, you suddenly notice the subtle aching in your leg and near the base of your spine. Upon a more thorough inspection, you realise that there are small, almost imperceptible stitches in your fur, between the muscles on your left thigh. Panic rises within you, the realisation that something has been done to your body sending a wave of nausea through you, making you feel sick to your very core.

The fear washes over you in full force as you register the sight of the stitches on your body. It's not just the knowledge that someone has tampered with your body, but the thought that you were unconscious and vulnerable when it happened. Your heart races with a sickening anxiety, the fear coursing through you making your senses hyper-aware.

You quickly scramble up from the cat bed, your body a whirlwind of motion, you leap off the plush fabric, landing on the soft, carpeted floor with a thump. Your body is tense, nerves on edge, as you instinctively try to take in your surroundings. Your pupils have narrowed into slits, tail whipping around wildly, betraying your anxiety.

You start moving across the room, treading softly on the plush carpet beneath your paws, every muscle in your body tense and poised, ready to flee or fight at a moment's notice. Prepared for any surprise.

As you move through the room with tentative, calculated steps, your mind is on high-alert, taking in every single detail. From the placement of the furniture, to the large window at the far end, to the faint sound of a clock ticking on the wall, everything registers in your heightened senses.

There's a strange sense of being both trapped and exposed, in this grand space that is simultaneously familiar and foreign. The uncertainty of what might come next hangs over you like a dark cloud.

You go completely still, your fur standing on end, your ears perking up and shifting in the direction of the hallway. Your entire body tenses in anticipation as you listen to the loud, precise footsteps approaching you.

Every instinct in you screams danger, so you quickly ready yourself to either flee or fight.

A tall, slender butler emerges from the hallway, his pale blue eyes scanning the room before his gaze lands on your bristled, tense form. A single grey eyebrow raises slightly in surprise as he continues to look at you.

"You're up earlier than planned, young master," he remarks, his voice calm and even. A hint of curiosity laced within his tone.

The butler's casual demeanour is a stark contrast to the tenseness of your own body. His eyes linger on you with a sort of cool curiosity, taking in your fluffed up form. He looks unfazed by your reaction, his calm composure making it feel like this is a completely normal, everyday occurrence.

Your heart races as the words sink in, your mind racing with confused fear. What the fuck. Why is he calling me 'young master'? Where the hell am I, and what the hell is happening.

The situation feels entirely surreal, and more than a little bit terrifying. You just want to go back to the safety and familiarity of your own home, but instead you're here, trapped in this lavish living room, with a strange butler calling you by some title you've never even dreamed of being addressed by before.

The butler watches you closely, his cool blue eyes scanning over every little detail of your tense form, noting your bristled fur, your tail that's whipping around wildly, and the panicked look in your wide, dilated eyes. A hint of intrigue flashes through his expression as he takes in your state.

Then, he speaks again, his calm and steady voice betraying his thoughts.

"It seems the sedative is wearing off a little faster than expected," he says, taking a few steps closer to you. His voice sends a new wave of unease through you.

The calm, casual vibe the butler is giving off, coupled with the little almost-smile on his face, makes your already overdriven senses go into a frenzy. Every fibre of your being is screaming danger, and you instinctively take a step back, hackles raised further, your body tensed and ready to bolt.

Your fear and panic have heightened every one of your senses, and you're on edge, ready to react to any sudden movement or sound. You're poised to run, or if need be, fight. You try to keep your breathing steady, but the anxiety is bubbling up inside of you, making it difficult to stay still.

The butler's observant gaze is on you, studying your every move as you take a step back, your body tense in a flight-ready stance. He notices the panic etched into your form, and for a moment, he doesn't approach. Instead, he stands a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back, his form composed and relaxed.

After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice soft and apologetic.

"I apologise for the state you woke up in," he says, that almost imperceptible smile still playing on his lips.

The man��s apology catches you off guard, a tiny flicker of surprise in your wide, dilated eyes. The politeness of his tone combined with that smile makes him seem almost eerily calm, given the situation you're currently in. Even though his words are apologetic, there's a subtle undercurrent of something else in his tone that you can't quite place.

The older man continues to watch you, his cool, observant gaze tracking every little movement you make, from the twitching of your whiskers to the rise and fall of your fluffy chest as your anxiety makes your breaths a little more laboured.

He takes a few steps closer toward you, his movements slow and deliberate. He's treating you like a wild beast, trying not to startle you further.

"It was necessary for the procedure to ensure your safe arrival, young master," he continues, his voice still soft but firm. It's as if he's trying to reassure you, despite the fact that his words do nothing but the opposite.

You shiver as the butler moves closer to you, your body tensing even further as you try to assess the potential threat he may pose. The apology and the explanation for your current state do little to ease the fear and confusion swirling within you. The dubbed name young master is foreign and bizarre and does nothing to help the situation.

You're on edge, your muscles coiled tight like a spring, ready to dart away the moment you sense any danger. But the butler isn't making any sudden moves, his calm demeanour and soft, even tone sending a confusing message.

The butler's eyes are observant, taking in every single twitch and jerk of your tensed body. He seems to recognise your anxiety, your coiled form ready to dart away given the opportunity. Yet he isn't visibly phased, his composed demeanour and soft, almost soothing voice unfazed by your obvious distress.

He takes another slow step toward you, his movements deliberate and careful.

"I understand your fear and confusion," he repeats, as if he was trying to reason with a frightened animal. Which in this case, wouldn’t be entirely wrong. However, beneath the soft, reassuring tone of his voice, there's still something else present, something you can't quite identify. “But you have nothing to be afraid of here.”

You swear that you could hear a hint of warning in his carefully crafted speech.

He's close enough now to reach out a pale hand toward you, his fingers outstretched. From this angle, the butler seems considerably taller, more imposing, and more dangerous than he appeared before, his gaze calm and calculating.

The tension in the room is palpable, and the clock on the wall seems to be the only other source of sound, beating in tune with your fast, panicked heart. He is entirely calm, his gaze cool and calculating, studying you carefully, like a hunter watching its prey.

"Come here, young master." He says in that soft, smooth, insistent tone.

You feel frozen in place, your mind racing with panic and despair. The options before you seem limited, the need to flee battling against the growing realisation that escape might not be a feasible option, especially with the butler's hand inching closer. Your body trembles slightly, your wide, alarmed eyes fixated on his approaching hand, the subtle threat underlying his words making it clear that the consequences of running away might be dire.

His voice, though soft and controlled, leaves no room for debate or refusal. The command in his words is clear.

He expects you to come to him.

You feel as if time stands still, your fear and tension making everything around you seem heightened, as if every fibre of your body was hyper-aware. The butler's hand is still gently moving closer, as if he was simply going to reach out and scoop you up, as if he had done it a thousand times before.

Your mind is swirling with fear and confusion, your thoughts chaotic and jumbled. You can't think clearly, and yet the old man exudes an air that somehow compels your trembling little paws to move forward, into his extended hand. Your every instinct is screaming at you that this man is dangerous, that getting any closer is a bad idea, but the mixture of fear, feeling of dizziness, and the authoritative atmosphere around him seems to overpower your logic. You don’t want to find out what would happen if you went against him.

A subtle victorious smile plays on the corner of the butler's lips as you begin to move forward, stepping into the range of his hand. He can practically feel your internal conflict and fear, and yet he shows no visible sign of it bothering him. His eyes remain steadfast, his expression and demeanour calm and composed.

"That's it," he murmurs, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, his hand closing around your small form, carefully but firmly holding you in his grasp, just tight enough to keep you from bolting.

You find yourself held against the butler's chest as he carefully lifts you off the ground, cradling you against him, his hold on you surprisingly gentle yet unyielding. The warmth of his body against your small form is an odd, almost confusing contrast to the fear and confusion you're currently feeling.

He begins walking across the living room, carrying you as if he was holding a fine piece of art. Every one of your senses is on high-alert, and you can feel the steady, calm beat of the butler's heart against your small form.

His steps are sure and controlled, his pace steady. He says nothing, his eyes looking ahead as he carries you through the lavish living room. Every step he takes seems to bring more and more confusion, the whole scene seeming like some sort of surreal fever dream.

The living room is large and open, with high ceilings and several plush couches and armchairs arranged around a grand, stone fireplace. The rich decor, the tall bookshelves, and the numerous cat trees and climbing structures give the room a distinct 'manor' vibe.

Everything in the room seems to scream 'wealth' and 'luxury', the opulence of Wayne Manor perfectly represented in this single, large room.

Despite the grandeur of the room, the butler's attention seems to be solely on you, his eyes focused on your small form he's cradling.

He speaks up, his tone is matter-of-fact and business-like, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "Master Dick has requested your immediate presence.” He speaks softly, as if his words would clear everything up. You don't know who this Master Dick is, but the urgency in the butler's voice tells you that it's probably someone important.

His words linger in your mind like a heavy weight. You have no idea who they are, but the way the butler addresses them and the air that surrounds him leaves no room for doubt that the person is someone important, someone powerful.

He walks out of the living room, and a wave of cold, stark realisation washes over you, a sense of hopelessness that comes with the knowledge that you have absolutely no say in this. You are at these people’s mercy.

The halls of the manor that you find yourself in are long and wide, the floor carpeted and the walls lined with expensive and elaborate paintings and decorations. The place itself is beautiful, but you're unable to appreciate any of it, your mind racing and your heart beating rapidly. A fuzzy feeling basked over the back of your mind.

The butler carries you down the halls, his steps long and unhurried, making you acutely aware of how small and helpless you are in this unknown, vast, and intimidating place.

As you're brought through the seemingly endless halls, your mind is bombarded with a barrage of thoughts, all of them chaotic and confused. You try to look for a way to escape, but everything here is unknown and unfamiliar, and you have no idea which doors might lead outside, or if there are any windows you might be able to jump out of.

Your small form cradled almost carefully against his chest, his grip strong and unyielding. There's a sense of detachment with which he carries you, handling you like an object, a thing to be used and given.

The halls continue to pass by in a blur of rich colours and patterns, the only sounds being the steady thud of the butler's footsteps and your ragged, stressed breathing.

After what feels like an eternity, the man stops his movements. You find yourself standing before a large, grand-looking door, it's dark wood carved with elaborate designs and patterns. It looks like it’s been freshly cleaned, as if it used to home someone and they’ve only now started using it again. The door radiates a sense of importance, and you feel the pit of your stomach clench in fear.

He adjusts his grip on you, positioning you to be more presentable as he reaches with one hand to knock three times on the door. He looks down at you, a slight flicker of something in his eyes, and then he waits.

Your ears involuntarily fold back upon hearing the heavy, fast footsteps approaching. The door is practically wrenched open with a thud, and a tall male stands in the doorway. He’s grinning widely, his eyes almost shimmering in the light, and his gaze immediately settles on you.

The man’s presence is imposing, and you feel yourself involuntarily shrinking back against the butler, not knowing what to expect. He looks at you with a mix of curiosity and amusement, his grin widening as he takes in your small form.

The man who stands before you is tall, and broad-shouldered. He's dressed in casual wear, a light, well-fitted hoodie stretched over his wide chest tucked into dark jeans. His face holds an almost boyish charm, framed by dark, wild hair that tumbles over his forehead.

His eyes are a bright, intense blue, and right now they're fixed directly on you. There's a hint of both curiosity and amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.

His demeanour changes almost instantly at the sight of you, his intense gaze softens as he takes you from the older man’s grasp by the scruff. He holds you up in the air, and you don't even have time to react before he's speaking.

"There's our baby." He coos, and there's a hint of something affectionate in his tone. The nickname baby is weird and confusing, but the man acts as if it's something perfectly normal. You’re not sure how to act. Everything’s happening too fast and you’re barely able to think, mind still hazed with sleep.

He doesn’t hold you forcefully, his grip not harsh but not soft either. You can almost feel the possessiveness in the touch, the way he looks at you, the sense of almost casual possessiveness. It’s like he believes that he has every right to be touching you, holding you, like you belonged to him. As if you were something he owned.

"Look at you…" he murmurs, his eyes taking in your form as he holds you up. "So pretty in person…"

There's a sense of satisfaction in his tone, as if you're better than what he had expected, and he's pleased by what he sees.

You can’t stop yourself from the deep, guttering hiss that escapes you as the man speaks, a mixture of fear, irritation and helplessness rolling through you. You hate how vulnerable you feel in his grasp, being held up in the air by this stranger, unable to break free.

The man chuckles, the sound loud and booming to your sensitive ears.

"Aww…" he coos. "I’m sorry, am I frightening you, little one?”

He holds you up to his eye-level, observing you with an amused yet soft grin, his eyes dancing with both curiosity and something else.

Your tail instinctively lashes around, thrashing in the air, trying to find a way to defend yourself, to break free of the strangers grip. But your body is slacking, the instinct to go limp when a predator has your scruff almost overpowering.

The position you’re in is uncomfortable and vulnerable and you’ve never been handled like this before. You’re finding it hard to move your limbs, breathing fast and overwhelmingly stressed. The helplessness of being carried like this is overwhelming. You want to scream and cry and run as far and fast as possible.

But you don’t. You forcibly stop yourself from letting the helplessness get to you. You refuse to give them the satisfaction of seeing you scared, of seeing you so exposed.

I’m better than that, you tell yourself. Better than them. You’re stronger than that. You might be small right now, but you’re also stubborn as hell, and you’ll be damned if they get the satisfaction of seeing you scared.

He studies you intently, his eyes taking in every little detail of your form, from the twitching of your ears to the frantic movement of your tail. He’s still holding you up, his hold on your scruff not slacking in the slightest. His gaze fond and amused.

He lets out another small, amused chuckle at your reaction, his lips tugged into a small smile. “Don’t worry, kitten. You’re safe with me..”

His attention shifts back to the other man for a moment, giving him a nod of thanks. “Thanks, Alfred.”

The older man, Alfred apparently, gives him a small nod, his gaze is still set on you. "Of course, sir.” A slight frown on his face as he looks at the man holding you, Master Dick apparently, a mix of concern and knowing in his eyes. “Be careful. The sedative is still in their system.” The man gives a small hum in response, seemingly not bothered by the warning.

Alfred lingers there for a moment, looking at you, then looking at the man, a silent exchange between the two of them. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

And then, without another word, he turns and walks away, disappearing back down the hallway.

"Alfred is a worrier," The man mutters as he watches the butler walk away. He gives you a small, almost sheepish smile. "Sorry ‘bout that."

He turns back to you and continues scanning your form, his gaze thoughtful and curious. He speaks to you like one might speak to a child. Softly and reassuringly.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" he says, voice low and quiet. "Such a pretty little thing..”

He looks over you with an almost adoring look in his eyes, his thumb gently stroking the fur on the top of your head. You want to recoil from his touch, but you’re unable to do anything but stay paralysed in his grasp.

He seems to find your lack of reaction amusing.

"Not very talkative, huh?" he murmurs, tilting his head slightly to the side, watching your expression closely. "That’s alright. You don’t have to be."

He continues caressing your small form with his free hand, the stroking gentle and almost caring. His eyes flicker down to your ears and he grins. “You’re just a ball of attitude, aren’t you?” he notes, amusement in his tone. “The way your ears fold back every time I talk. So defensive.. Seems my youngest siblings are similar in that respect” He grins softly, pressing a kiss to your fluffy coat.

You freeze up, caught off guard by the unexpected and strange gesture. For a moment you’re too surprised to react, your body going limp before stiffening quickly again.

Your mind is reeling, trying to process this unexpected level of intimacy, from a complete stranger, no less. What the hell is up with this guy? He’s acting like I’m a pet. The thought is both angering and demeaning, you watch him with a mix of confusion and wariness in your eyes.

He brings you close to his chest, cradling your small form against him. His fingers run through your soft fur in a way that almost tickles, the feeling making your skin crawl a bit. The doors close behind him with an audible snap, the sound a little too loud to your sensitive ears.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the ridiculous amounts of cat-related objects that are placed everywhere. Drawers filled with little outfits, toys littered around, cat cushions, scratch pads, catnip balls stuck to the walls, and more. You almost grimace at the sight.

The room is a cat’s dream, filled to the brim with cat toys and decorations. A large, king-size bed dominates the centre of the room, covered with different patterns of soft blankets, a pile of various pillows and cushions scattered around it. It’s like a cat paradise, and an absolute nightmare for you.

The man carries you further in, taking a seat on the bed and making himself comfortable. He continues to hold you close, rubbing the nape of your neck, his touch too soft. Like he was silently apologising for handling your scruff so roughly.

He plops down on the bed unceremoniously, the springs creaking under his weight. He adjusts his hold on you to make you more comfortable, his grip a bit more lax now, but still firm enough to keep you pressed against him.

His eyes run over your form, looking you up and down, like he’s mentally checking you over. He’s studying me. He takes in every little detail. Every twitch of your ear, every lash of your tail, the way you instinctively hunch in on yourself. “... Damian’s not going to be happy with the state of your fur, little one..”

He reaches out to pet you, not expecting the swift response as you quickly smack his hand away, your claws drawing lines of bright red across the back of his hand.

He jerks backwards, yowling softly, his expression going momentarily shocked as he looks at the deep thin red lines across his skin.

He stares at you for a moment, surprised and probably pained, but also...almost impressed?

"That hurt you know..” he grumbles, more amused than mad.

"...But that’s okay. Siblings fight all the time." He mutters, still looking at his hand, the long red lines standing out against his tan skin. He sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to you.

His gaze then moves to look at you, and his expression is mildly entertained. He gives you a small teasing smile.

"Just wait until the others find out how feral you are. They'll have a field day with you.." The way he speaks is as if he’s joking, but his words make your fur stand on edge. He’s calling any person's natural reaction to getting kidnapped feral.

As you replay his words in your head you freeze. Others? You repeat in your mind, a sickening feeling settling in your gut. Just how many of them are there?

He seems to notice your reaction to his words, noticing your stiffened form and the look of dread on your face. He gives a small hum, his fingers running through your fur gently, a look of feigned innocence on his face.

"Is something wrong?" he asks softly, his tone almost patronising. He keeps his voice gentle, like a big brother speaking to his smaller child sibling.

"Did the mention of our siblings scare you?"

He continues to run his fingers through your fur as he talks, his tone still soft. "I'm sure you'll come to love them.. They're a bit rough around the edges, but they're good kids. Once they warm up to you, that is. And you, lovely, are already in their good graces.” He’s doing it again, speaking to you like you’re a dimwitted animal, something cute and small and incapable of understanding him. It’s demeaning and agitating. It makes me feel pathetic.

Tim's sitting on the kitchen chair, his feet propped up on the marble counter, leaning back casually. His attention was focused on the tablet in his hand. Or at least it was, too occupied with secretly watching as Damian meticulously rearranged the fridge, his brother moving items around to ‘make it look perfect’ for his older sibling’s new arrival.

Tim lets out a soft sigh. Of course. His little brother is almost as obsessive about organisation as Batman himself. He’s not surprised, more amused.

Damian looks over in Tim’s direction for a moment, his eyes catching the sight of Tim’s feet on the table. He rolls his eyes, a small scoff of displeasure escaping him.

"Feet off the table, Drake." Damian says dryly, his focus returning to the fridge and its contents.

"Oh relax, Dames. The table's clean." Tim counters, his tone almost mocking. He knows it annoys Damian to no end, calling him by the childish nickname.

He props his chin up on his hand, watching as his younger brother systematically re-arranges everything in the fridge, his movements quick and precise.

He hums softly, his gaze shifting downward for a moment, before he raises a brow. “Looks like the kitty’s awake.”

His eyes flick over to the live feed on the tablet, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as he sees you. You look uncomfortable and wary, bristled and defensive. The sight causes him to let out a small amused huff of air.

Damian pauses mid-action, a container of fluffy cooked rice held in his hands. He turns to face Tim, a curious look in his green eyes. "Give me the tablet," he demands, holding out his hand expectantly.

Tim raises an eyebrow sceptically, "Why? You wanna spy on em?" He teases.

Damian huffs, crossing his arms in irritation, "I don't spy. I observe." He scoffs.

Tim just rolls his eyes, but relents, handing over the tablet. "Fine. But don't do anything stupid, Demon."

Damian glares at the nickname, but grabs the tablet from Tim's hands without comment. Looking down at the screen, watching the feed intently, his expression contemplative as he observes you. His gaze is sharp and calculating. Scanning over every detail, noticing the way you look around the room, the way you hunch nervously, your ears pinned back and swivelling as you listen for movement.

He tilts his head slightly, studying your form with intense concentration, taking in every little detail. "How long have they been awake?" he asks, not looking away from the screen.

Tim leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table again and folding his arms across his chest. He glances at his watch, thinking for a moment.

"Five, ten minutes, I think." Tim responds, leaning back against the chair. He watches as Damian's expression shifts thoughtfully as he studies the screen. Drake can't help but feel a pang of curiosity as well, but he keeps it in check.

There's a beat of silence as Damian continues to watch you, his expression thoughtful. Tim can practically see the wheels turning in his younger brother’s head.

"Hasn’t tried to bolt yet..” Damian notes, his voice quiet as he watches you, studying your movements. “That's... interesting.”

Tim lets out a hum, watching as Damian's expression becomes almost intrigued, like he's analysing your every move.

Silence settles over the room again, only the sound of the open fridges soft buzzing filling the air. Tim notices the way Damian's expression darkens a bit. "They look scared." He mutters, almost disappointed by the observation.

Tim raises an eyebrow at Damian’s observation, watching as the younger Robin frowns a bit.

"They’re probably terrified, to be fair. Would you not be scared, if someone kidnapped you?” Tim points out, his tone a bit sarcastic.

Damian scowls, a small pout forming on his face, the expression making him seem childish.

“I’d be angry, first and foremost.” He counters, his hands clenching slightly. “Not scared.”

He turns back to the fridge, placing the container in its rightful spot. He steps back, taking a moment to observe his work with a critical eye, before glancing back at Tim over his shoulder.

“And we haven’t kidnapped them. We’ve simply brought our little kitten home." He corrects, his tone matter of fact. Like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

Tim just groans exasperatedly, dropping his head forward against the table. He shakes his head in disbelief, rubbing his hand down his face.

"You say it like it's the most normal thing in the world." He mumbles into the table top, his voice slightly muffled.

Damian rolls his eyes, like Tim’s comment is beyond unnecessary and ridiculous.

"It is normal." He says, like he’s explaining something obvious to an idiot.

Tim lifts his head from the table, giving Damian a withering glare. "Abducting people is not normal, Dames." He sighs.

Damian huffs, returning Tim's glare with an equally intense one. "It is to us." He counters, his voice hard and unsympathetic.

Tim just stares at him for a moment. "And that doesn't strike you as concerning at all? The fact that kidnapping is so normal to us?"

Damian’s entire expression hardens, his features going from annoyed to cold and stoic in a matter of seconds. He pivots back to face Tim, his gaze steely and icy.

“Are you implying,” he begins, his voice low and dangerous, “that we return our sibling to the filth they were wallowing in?”

Tim's expression drops, a scowl pulling at his features. "I would never joke about that." He says firmly, his voice taking on a dark edge. "They're ours."

He then turns his attention back to the tablet, watching the screen intently. "I'm simply stating the fact that abduction isn't exactly the most common practice, not that I would ever dream of letting them go."

Damian hums in agreement, his expression still stoic, but his eyes flicker with a possessive light. He watches the tablet as well, the look in his eyes almost wild.

Tim notices the look in the younger boy’s eyes, and he lets out a small huff. "Calm down, Dames." He mutters, his voice a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Damian simply rolls his eyes, "I am calm." He says dryly, but his eyes never leave the screen, his gaze fixed on your form. He raises a brow as Alfred approaches you over the cams.

Tim just rolls his eyes at Damian's response, not fully believing him.

As the elderly butler steps closer, the tension in your form becomes almost visibly apparent. You stiffen, your body going rigid, ears pinned back against your head, tail bristling like a pincushion.

Damian watches intently, his gaze fixed on the live feed, eyebrows pinching together in something close to disappointment.

“Look at them. They’re terrified by Pennyworth.” He says, his voice low and frustrated.

Tim glances over at Damian, seeing the disapproving look on his face, and smirks a bit. “Of course they are. They don’t know that he’s harmless.”

Damian huffs, his irritation growing. "It’s not about being harmless or not. They should just know that they don’t have anything to fear here."

He keeps his gaze fixed on the screen, his expression one of annoyance and annoyance at your clear fear of the elderly butler, the way you’re bristling like a porcupine. His brows pinching even further at the state of your fur. A disapproving scowl crossing his features.

“Not everyone is like us, Dames.” Tim points out, his tone a mixture of amused and sarcastic. “Not everyone is damaged.”

Damian glares at him, “I am not damaged.” He mutters, his voice a mixture of irritation and defensiveness.

Tim just rolls his eyes. “Of course you are, you’re a Wayne.” He says dryly.

Damian bristles a little bit, his irritation growing a bit more, but he doesn’t take the bait. He continues watching the live feed, watching as Alfred reaches out to grab you, your tense and wary form flinching away as he scoops you up.

He lets out a small sigh of annoyance, his expression still irritated and frustrated. “This is ridiculous.” He mutters, his voice quiet, but clearly annoyed.

“Relax, Dames.” Tim says, a note of amusement in his voice. “You can’t expect them to stop being afraid immediately. They need time to adjust, to get used to us.”

Damian lets out an exasperated huff, his tone sharp. “They shouldn’t have to adjust to us.” He snaps, still glaring at the screen, watching as Alfred holds you carefully, in a way where you can’t hurt him while also like you're a fragile and precious thing.

Tim raises an eyebrow, looking at Damian with a mix of curiosity and understanding. “You want them to just...accept us? Just like that?”

Damian's expression darkens, his expression almost pained for a moment, his eyes never leaving the screen as he watches the way Alfred’s handling you.

“Yes, exactly like that.” He says, his tone firm and underlyingly desperate.

Tim's expression softens a bit, realising how much Damian truly wants you to accept them, that you don’t fear them. His expression becomes almost sympathetic as he watches Damian’s reaction.

"Dames…" he says gently, his voice soft, but firm. “It doesn’t work like that, bud. It’s gonna take time for them to actually warm up to us. They’ve been on the streets for far too long, they’ve been alone for a while.”

His gaze shifts down for a moment. “For now we’ll just have to result to the sedatives to keep them docile.”

Damian's expression pinches, his features shifting into a mix of agitation and discontent. While he loathes the thought of drugging you, he knows that the rest of the family has already made up their minds.

He lets out a quiet sigh, taking in a deep breath through his nose. Closing the fridge door with more force than necessary, his jaw clenching.

Tim notices the look on his brother's face, seeing the clear irritation and disapproval, and rolls his eyes a bit. “I don’t like this.” The youngest Wayne mutters, his tone tight and disapproving.

“It’s necessary.” Tim counters, his tone matter of fact, though there’s a hint of discomfort in his voice.

Damian shoots him a glare, clearly not satisfied with the explanation. He crosses his arms, his expression hardening, his eyes filled with a mixture of irritation and reluctance.

“Is it really necessary?” He snaps, his voice taking an almost bitter edge.

Tim’s expression hardens a bit, not appreciating the attitude. He takes a step forward, his eyes meeting Damian’s in a steady glare. “Yes, it is.” He says firmly. “It’s the most practical solution. We need to keep ‘em under control. You know the others won’t be happy if we let the kitty run wild. Or god forbid they throw a tantrum and hurt one of us. We can handle it, but can Alfred?”

His jaw clenches, his hands balling into tight fists at his sides. He knows Tim’s right, but he doesn’t enjoy that fact. He lets out a frustrated huff, his voice tight and strained.

“I know.” He snaps back. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Tim sighs, his expression softening a notch. He understands Damian’s reluctance, sharing a bit of the same sentiment. But he’s also pragmatic, and right now their needs are priority, not yours.

“I’m not saying you have to like it, Dames. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.” He says, his tone is gentle compared to before. “It’s just what needs to be done. It’s what’s practical. Effective."

Damian’s shoulders sag slightly, his expression shifting into one of reluctant acceptance. He knows that Tim’s right, that practicality should be their primary concern. But it doesn’t sit right with him, treating you like some sort of prisoner. You’re family.

He lets out a soft sigh, his hands uncurling from their tight fists. “Fine.” He mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tim notices the shift in Damian’s demeanour, the reluctant acceptance showing in his expression. He gives his brother a sympathetic look, knowing how hard this is for him. They’re all used to dealing with criminals, dealing with bad people, but using these methods on you feels wrong. Unnatural.

He nods in acknowledgment, giving Damian a small, relieved smile. “It’ll be alright, Dames.” He says genuinely. “You know it’s for the best.”

Damian nods, his features a mixture of reluctance and resignation. He knows that Tim’s right, that this is the best course of action for the situation. But it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“Yes, I know.” He says, his voice quiet, but resigned. “It’s for the safety of the rest of us. For their safety.” He adds, his tone taking on a bitter edge again, as if the words taste rancid on his tongue. “But I still don’t agree with it. I hate that you agree with it.”

Tim lets out a slow, drawn-out sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He takes a deep breath before looking back at Damian. “I’m the one who concluded that we needed to sedate them. It’s the safest solution.” He admits quietly, his voice taking on a note of resignation. “It may not be the best option, but it’s the practical one.” His voice started to take on a more tired note. He hates having to repeat himself.

Damian’s expression darkens again, his irritation flaring up once more as he glares at Tim. “You suggested this?” He snaps, his voice tense.

Tim tosses his tablet down onto the counter at Damian's outburst, his expression becoming more guarded. "Yes, I did." He says, his tone firm and unapologetic. "And if you have a better idea, I'd love to hear it." His voice takes on a challenge, a daring note as he glares back at Damian.

The younger Wayne grows irritated at Tim's challenging tone, his eyes narrowing. He opens his mouth, about to shoot back at Tim, the argument on the tip of his tongue. But then he notices the hint of exhaustion in his brother’s eyes, the weary lines etched into his expression. He catches the frustration in Tim's tone, the tiredness seeping through. He closes his mouth, the argument dying on his tongue. He’s painfully aware of the older boy's self destructive habits.

He lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sag, and he drops his gaze to the floor. “No. I don’t.” He mutters bitterly.

Their attention is immediately snapped and drawn to the kitchen’s entrance as Alfred appears, a questioning eyebrow raised as he glances between them, seeming to take note of their tense exchange.

Tim’s expression shifts into one of slight relief, glad for the distraction from the argument and the heavy atmosphere of the kitchen.

Damian’s jaw clenches, his features shifting into a tight frown. He glances over at Alfred, his expression impatient and expectant.

“Where are they?” He snaps, his voice taking on a firm, demanding edge.

The butler glances between the two, his eyes lingering on Damian and his irritated expression. “The young master has been taken to Master Dick.” He says calmly, an air of mild reproach in his tone.

Damian’s scowl deepens as he processes Alfred’s words. The thought of you being alone with Dick makes his stomach twist with unease. He knows how overbearing and excessive his eldest brother can be, and he’s not exactly confident in Dick’s ability to handle the situation without causing some sort of incident. Plus, he wanted to be the first person you saw once you had woken up.

Tim, on the other hand, only looks only mildly concerned. He has a bit more faith in Dick’s ability to keep the situation under control, but he’s also not blind to his brother’s tendency to smother and overwhelm. But he has the cameras to watch over just in case the situation turns sour. So he’s not worried.

Damian’s face twists in irritation, and he’s about to demand to know where exactly Dick took you, but Alfred clears his throat before he can speak.

“I’m certain the young master is in safe hands, Master Damian.” Alfred says, his voice calm and gentle, a silent plea for him to hold his tongue.

Damian’s jaw clenches, the muscles in his face tensing further. He hesitates for a moment, wrestling with the urge to argue, but ultimately he swallows the words and just gives a tense nod.

Tim watches the silent interaction between Damian and Alfred, his expression still mostly neutral. He’s silently amused by Damian’s irritation, knowing how the youngest Wayne has very little patience with these kinds of things. But he knows that arguing with Alfred is usually pointless, the old butler’s word usually final.

So he just watches quietly, his gaze drifting towards the live feed fed from the cameras.

You’re curled up under Dick’s bed, body coiled into a small, tense ball. Your fur is bristled and your ears are pinned back, pressed flat against your skull. You’re tense and on edge, waiting silently for any sound from above, listening keenly to the movements of the man sitting on the bed above you who can’t stop giggling.

Grayson is sitting on the edge of his bed, a wide smile on his face as he looks down at the space under his bed. He’s trying to keep his voice relatively quiet, not wanting to startle you further, but he’s too amused to keep his voice completely level. He keeps chuckling to himself, he can’t help it. You were just so adorable. Even when you were angry, all fluffed up and hissing.

“Come on out, little thing.” He coos, his tone gentle and sweet. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He reaches a hand down, his fingers gently patting the carpet beneath the bed, coaxing you out from your meagre hiding place.

Your tail lashes out, thwacking against the underside of the bed. You roll your eyes at his coaxing, annoyed at the way he’s trying to get you out. As if you’re going to give him the satisfaction of coming out just because he keeps saying he won’t hurt you. How stupid does he think I am?

Dick huffs a quiet, exasperated laugh, clearly amused by your stubbornness. He continues to gently pat the carpet, his voice still gentle and coaxing. “Come on, come out, baby. I just want to talk to you.”

He shifts a bit, trying to get a better view of you under the bed, but he can only see a glimpse of your fluffy rump and tail.

You shift away from his hand, pressing yourself closer to the wall, your eyes locked on his fingers as they continue to pat the carpet. Yeah, right. You think bitterly, your tail whipping around irritably. Like I’m going to fall for that. A guttural hiss leaves your throat. As if I’d come out just because he ‘asked nicely.’ No fucking chance.

Dick can tell that you’re not budging anytime soon. He lets out an amused huff, still smiling down at the space under his bed. “Alright then.” He says with a small laugh, clearly not too bothered by your stubbornness.

“I’m not going to force you out. I can just sit here all day, sweetheart. All day and all night.” He says sweetly, his tone taking on a singsong edge.

Your ears go back, flattening against your head at the mention of him sitting there all day. You shoot a withering glare at his fingers. No way you’re going to let him get the better of you. You’ve dealt with humans trying to coax you out from hiding by pretending to be nice before. Never once has it worked. Not once.

My mother taught me better than that.

Dick watches your ears flatten against your head, his smile growing slightly at your defiant glare. He can practically feel the resistance radiating off of you. He knows that he’ll have to use a different tactic to make you come out. He’ll make sure to remember to get rid of the bed’s legs so you can’t hide under it again.

“Come on, little spitfire, you can’t stay under there forever.” He tries, his tone slightly softer. “I bet it’s cramped and uncomfortable under there. You gotta be getting tired.”

Your ears prick up slightly at his words, but you quickly ignore them. He’s right of course, it is cramped and uncomfortable under here. But you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. You keep your gaze locked on his hand. It may be a little claustrophobic, but the carpet laid under your little belly and small paws is softer than any material you’ve ever had the pleasure of feeling before. It’s more comfortable than the worn-out stained mattress you use as a bed. Everything here is, really. So you can deal with a little claustrophobia.

Dick can see the way your ears prick up at his words, and he can see the way your eyes drift around the carpet under the bed, taking in the soft material.

He can tell how much more comfortable this is compared to how you usually live. But he keeps that observation to himself.

He just continues quietly coaxing you, his voice never losing its sweetness.

“Yeah, I bet you’re cramped and uncomfortable, baby. It's awfully warm under there...” He coos, his hand continuing to pat the carpet lightly. “And you must be hungry by now, right?” He asks softly, his voice taking on a more sympathetic edge.

Your ears twitch a bit at his words, the mention of food making your stomach rumble quietly. He’s right, you are hungry. Famished, even. It’s been a few days since your last full meal.

You try to push down the ache of hunger in your stomach, your tail flicking irritably. You’re not going to give in just because he mentioned food. Even if a part of you is tempted, you’re not that desperate.

Dick’s lips twitch as he notices the way your ears flick, and he hears your stomach give an almost painful-sounding grumble. He’s silently satisfied that he’s at least getting some sort of reaction; a sure sign that he’s wearing you down.

“Aww…” he coos sympathetically, his voice sickenly sympathetic. “Are you hungry? Your tummy’s all grumbly.. I can hear it from here, kitten.” He leans forward, resting his chin on his folded hands. The position gives him a clearer view of you.

Your ears twitch again, but that’s the only reaction you give. On the inside, your stomach is practically clawing at itself, begging for some sort of meal. Your body is silently aching from how starved you are, the feeling only getting worse with each passing moment. Why the fuck did he have to say something? You hadn’t even noticed a few seconds ago.

But you keep your glare firmly fixed on his hand, refusing to acknowledge the pain. You’re determined to show him that you’re not going to give in that easily.

Dick hums thoughtfully, his gaze gliding over to the hidden camera in the corner of the room, his eyes locking on it knowingly. He casts the device a glance, his expression speaking volumes. He’s letting Tim know that he’s got this situation under control, but still mouths for him to send food.

He glances back down at the space under his bed, addressing you again, his tone still gentle and coaxing. “Come on out, baby…”

A soft growl rumbles in your chest, your mind still stubbornly set on refusing to budge. His soft tone and gentle way of speaking isn’t going to get the better of you.

You dig your claws into the carpet, a low, grumpy snarl working its way out of your throat. No. You think irritably, your tail twitching from behind, thumping against the wall in silent protest.

Dick hears the growl that rumbles out of your chest, and he can tell that you’re still holding out. You’re a stubborn little thing, he’ll give you that. It makes him almost proud. He’s proud to be your brother.

“Come on, kitty. Why don’t you come out from under there and let me see you?”

Your fur sticks up more at his words, your tail lashing even more furiously. He’s getting awfully demanding, which only serves to anger you more. You flatten your ears back against your head, letting out another low growl. Your glare locks intensely on his fingers, which are still lightly patting the carpet. Does this idiot honestly think I’d come out just because he’s saying please?

Dick tries to keep his calm demeanour, despite your visible irritation with him. He knows that you’re feeling claustrophobic under there, but he also knows that you’re too stubborn to come out just because he asks nicely. He silently notes the way your back rises and falls a little too quickly, a sign of how stressed you are in the confined environment.

He tries another approach. “Don’t make me come under there and get you…” he says lowly, his voice taking on a slightly darker edge.

Your ears twitch at the darker undertone in his voice, your body tensing further. You know that he means it, and the thought of him coming under there gets your claws digging deeper into the carpet.

You let out a guttural snarl, low and threatening. Try and get me out. Go ahead and try. I bet your big back can’t even fit under here.

Dick huffs a quiet laugh as he hears your warning snarl, but he’s not intimidated in the slightest. He knows that you’re just trying to sound intimidating, to scare him into leaving you alone. But he can see past the fierce demeanour you’re putting on, he can see the way your body is shaking with tension, the way you’re practically clawing the carpet to pieces.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before standing. His hand reaching down and hooking under the frame of the bed, lifting it up with little effort.

Your body jerks back in shock as he suddenly lifts the entire bed into the air, the sound of the bed’s feet scraping loudly across the floor.

Your tail goes wild at the unexpected situation you’re suddenly in, waving uncontrollably behind you. Your eyes are as big as saucers, the sight of the bed being lifted up completely taking you by surprise. Fuck– how is he so strong?

Your heart is practically slamming against your ribcage, your adrenaline spiking. You’re suddenly feeling very exposed, pressed against the rich wooden frame of the underside of the bed with nowhere to go. You can see him peering under the bed, that smug smile on his face making your blood boil.

“Come out before I’m forced to grab you, spitfire.” He repeats.

A guttural snarl rumbles out of your chest, your legs bunching up as if you’re preparing to pounce. Your heart is racing uncomfortably. His tone is playful, but you can see the subtle hint of darkness in his eyes.

Dick chuckles as he watches your body tense up, the look in your eyes almost murderous. But despite your fierce demeanour, he can see the way your muscles are trembling beneath your fur.

He knows that you’re just scared. You like to put on a strong front, but your shaking body gives you away. He doubts that you’re even aware of it.

His arm is starting to strain a little, the bed is heavier than it looks, but he keeps holding it up with one arm, leaning forward slightly to peer at you.

A low hiss escapes your throat as you slowly begin to edge out from under the bed, your body practically scraping against the ground. You keep yourself as low to the floor as possible, as if you’re still trying to be undetected.

Then, you suddenly dart across the room, scrambling as fast as your legs will allow to the other side, putting as much distance between you and the dude. Once you’ve reached the far side of the room, your body immediately collides with a wall, your tail whipping around as you press yourself against the surface.

Dick sighs as he watches you scramble away from him, practically diving to the other side of the room and immediately slamming yourself against the wall. He lowers the bed back to the ground, letting it thump loudly against the carpet.

His eyes watch you closely, taking in how you’re almost vibrating with tension. He can see the way your eyes are wide, how your back is hunched against the wall, and your little ears are folded back against your head.

You’re ready to go at any second.

Your tail is lashing wildly behind you, your entire being screaming at you to bolt for the door. Get out. Go. Run. Leave. Now. Get out while you still can.

Your little legs carry you as fast as they can, the sound of the door clicking open ringing in your ears. The sound was as loud as a gunshot to your ears. It’s the only noise you need to hear before you bolt. The thought of escaping is a driving force, urging you to run as fast as possible. Darting as fast as your paws will carry you towards the door.

But your escape gets instantly interrupted as you suddenly crash into a pair of long legs, covered in posh looking suit pants. A startled hiss escapes your throat as you stumble back, your head bumping against the man’s legs.

You skid to a halt, your paws screeching against the floor as you collide with them. Your head snaps up, a hiss escaping you as you pull away and stumble back, trying to gain some distance. The rich black fabric now adorns a few of your fur's stray hairs.

A soft chuckle escapes the man just moments after your little stunt, the sound catching your attention. You look up at the man, his face calm and collected as he simply stares down at you.

He speaks in a light tone, addressing you. “Careful there, little one” His eyes are still locked on your small frame. His gaze then shifts back to Dick, holding out a tray to the man.

Dick huffs in amusement as he sees you bolt straight into Alfred, your legs carrying you so quickly that you don’t realise his entrance until it’s too late. He almost laughs out loud as he watches you scurry back awkwardly, your eyes darting back and forth between the two men.

He takes the tray from Alfred with a grateful smile, placing it on the rich wooden desk nearby. “Thanks, Alfie.” He says, his gaze shifting back to you, watching you closely.

Alfred hums softly in response, his eyes still locked on you, his gaze studying your every movement. You feel uncomfortably scrutinised as he looks you over, taking in your every feature. Jesus, he’s staring at me like I’m a bloody zoo attraction.

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes are studying your every move, as if you’re something of extreme curiosity to him. His intense interest in you is making you shift uncomfortably.

He didn’t do that earlier, did he? You think to yourself, your mind struggling to recall earlier events. But for some reason, your memories are just a big jumbled blur.

You can faintly remember waking up on a soft, plush material. Your mind struggles to recall the events. All you can remember are vague, blurry images, like watching a video through a rain-drenched window. One of those images is an unfocused picture of the butler walking, holding you in his arms as he moves. It’s anything but clear. You wouldn’t have believed that it had even happened if it weren’t for the fact that you are in the ‘Master Dick’s room.

Which, now that you’re thinking about it, sounds oddly familiar to you.

However, they don’t spare you much time to ponder over it as you’re forcefully pulled out of your thoughts when the door clicks closed behind the old butler as he leaves once more, your ears twitching in response to the sound.

Dick watches you silently as he places the tray in front of you, the aroma of cooked meat wafting towards your nostrils almost instantly, making your stomach rumble loudly, as if on a cue.

You silently berate your stomach in your mind, before glaring up at Grayson. He probably poisoned it, or something.

Your stomach lets out another loud gurgle as the meat fragrance hits your sensitive nose, the sound making your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You quickly try to silence the sound of your rumbling belly by internally scolding and cussing out the organ, but your silent tantrum is cut short as you glare up at Dick, eyeing him suspiciously.

Your mind instantly accuses him of tainting the food. He probably poisoned it. Or something. You think bitterly.

Dick notices the way you’re eyeing the food suspiciously, a small chuckle escapes him in response. He can tell that you’re silently accusing him of doing something to the food, and he can’t help but find the way your face scrunches up in a tiny little frown as you glare.

He leans down to sit opposite you, keeping a safe distance before he speaks, his tone gentle. He tells you. “The food is fine. It’s made so you can eat it in both forms.”

Your ears immediately perk up in surprise, your tail freezing in its agitated movements. You can feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins, making your body tense up. He knows I'm a hybrid.

A thousand thoughts run through your mind as the realisation strikes you. He knows. How the hell does he know?

Your heart begins to race even more as your mind instantly connects the dots, linking the events together like a piece of an unsolved puzzle. You recall the other man, the man who knew where you lived. You had no idea who he was, but he clearly knew who you were.

And now, Dick somehow knows about your unique condition.

Your mind quickly makes the connection. Are they working together? Is he with Jason?

You can already feel the adrenaline pumping through your system, your heartbeat sounding like a drumbeat in your chest. Your body is tense, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Dick doesn’t seem to notice your inner thoughts, or if he does, he’s not showing it. He sits calmly across from you, that annoying little grin still plastered on his face, his eyes studying your every move.

Your mind is racing, your body feeling like it’s ready to explode. You can’t help yourself, the thought of staying small and powerless while being in the presence of such a man is making you heave. Bile shooting up your throat at the mere thought.

You quickly shift forms, transforming into a human form. You’re still tense, on edge, but somehow you feel less vulnerable this way.

A large red and black hoodie hangs off of your form, the oversized material reaching the middle of your thighs. A pair of shorts hugging your legs, clinging to the skin tightly. You’re painfully aware that this is not what you had on before you were knocked out. And somehow, by the tight restricting feeling that adorns your neck, the collar has adapted itself onto your human form too. The sight confuses you and leaves you with a thousand questions, but you don’t dare ask any of them.

Your mind is too occupied with the dull ache that had been building into a painful burn in the muscles of your body, making it harder to concentrate. The intense pain has gone from an irritating dull ache to a stinging, burning feeling. It feels as if someone has dug into your skin, left something deep inside you, and stitched it into your flesh.

Your muscles tense, the overwhelming feeling making you nauseous. The pain is far worse in your human form.

Dick’s eyebrows furrow as he notices the way you suddenly curl in on yourself, your body flinching as if in pain. His heart clenches at the sight. He immediately rushes over to your side, stopping and kneeling down right next to you. His deep ocean eyes filled with concern.

He watches you carefully, his gaze studying every muscle twitch, every subtle movement. Something's wrong. His heart clenches at the sight of you in pain, a protective instinct stirring within him that he can't ignore.

His body is itching to reach out to you, to comfort you, but he holds himself back. Don’t make it worse. He thinks to himself.

He speaks your name gently, his voice filled with worry. “Are you alright?” he asks, his eyes locked onto you. “What hurts? Tell me, kitten.”

You’re curled up into a tight ball, your body tense and in pain. Dick’s voice is gentle, filled with concern as he asks you what’s wrong. But the sound of him calling you kitten makes you wince in annoyance, a slight hiss escaping you before you can stop it.

You’re about to answer him when a wave of intense pain shoots through your spine, making your body jerk involuntarily.

The sound that escapes your throat is something between a hiss and a whimper. Which does nothing to calm Dick, his face growing more concerned as he watches you writhe in pain, his mind practically screaming at him to do something to help you.

Dick is about to reach out and touch you, to comfort you, but before his hand can touch your shoulder, the bedroom door slams open violently. Damian’s face, uncharacteristically filled with fear, is suddenly in the room. Tim is next, rushing past the boy and to your side with a syringe in his hand. You don’t have any time nor energy to evade him. The sedative administered quickly.

Your body is tense from the pain, but you feel yourself start to relax as the sedative takes effect. Your mind is slowing down, the world around you becoming hazy. Your breathing is growing slower, your body slowly going limp as the drug starts to take over your senses. Falling backwards into Dick's readied arms.

Dick grits his teeth, looking up at his younger brothers with a deep frown. “Someone explain." he orders firmly, cradling you protectively in his arms as you begin to fall unconscious.

“We need to get them to Bruce.” Damian responds instead of answering. Your mind is barely registering the words before everything starts to go black and it feels like you’re drowning. The sedative completely takes effect as you slowly fall unconscious.

You feel yourself slowly awakening, your long kitten limbs stretching out as your paws curl in on themselves. A soft yawn escapes your lips as you blissfully blink your sleepy eyes open, you can’t remember transforming, but you don’t dwell much on it, feeling somewhat satisfied and at ease. A soft, satisfied purr escaping your lips.

You’re almost about to lull yourself back to sleep when the surface you’re laying on shifts under you.

Your ears twitch in response, your eyes widening with alertness as the soft, fuzzy feeling of comfort is instantly replaced with confusion. You quickly realise that the surface you’re sleeping on is actually moving under you, and that the slight thump thump sound underneath you is not your own pulse.

Your mind quickly processes the new information, realising that you’re not laying on a soft surface, but on someone’s lap. Your body immediately reacts, your ears flicking back as you try to scramble out of whoever’s lap you’re on, startled.

A deep, rumbling chuckle resonates from behind you, a large hand patting your fur gently. Your tail flicks in response to the touch, your mind registering how easy it is to move, how the pain is gone. You take this opportunity to leap up onto the large office desk, your eyes darting around to take in your surroundings – completely ignoring the large figure behind you.

Your tail instantly goes rigid as your eyes fall on the framed photo on the desk, your eyes instantly widening as you recognize the people in the picture. Your heart sinks deep in your chest. It’s a family. A large and happy-looking family. One that you are all too familiar with.

Your mind connects the dots instantly, the realisation hitting you like a truck. The familiar manor. The butler, Alfred. Master Dick. Those people. You're suddenly afraid of looking at the man behind you. They were the Waynes.

Your heart starts pumping furiously in your chest, your breathing becoming rapid and shallow. You can feel a wave of nausea overcome you, your stomach clenching and your head spinning from the force of it all. How exactly have you landed yourself right in the laps of the Wayne's, of all people?

You’re afraid to look back, afraid of who is sitting right behind you. The urge to flee and run as far as possible from this place is almost overwhelming.

The man’s voice cuts through your spiralling thoughts, making you realise that you’re far too deep in your own head. A shiver runs down your spine at the nickname. Sunshine. You haven’t heard that nickname in years.

"You gave us quite the fright there yesterday, sunshine."

You finally gain the courage to look back, your body tense and your breathing heavy. You meet the man’s eyes, and the sight of the soft, concerned gaze makes your breath hitch in your throat. His voice was both soft and firm, almost... paternal.

His deep ocean eyes were looking at you with a mixture of concern and worry. There was no malice, no ill-intent. Only concern that made your heart clench in your chest. His expression is soft, like a parent seeing their child in pain.

He's sitting in a large armchair, his tall frame slouched slightly as he looks at you intently. His suit looks expensive, but slightly rumpled, as if he hadn't changed in quite a while. His tired eyes never leave you.

Your mind instantly goes into a panic, your multi-coloured chest heaving as if you just got the wind knocked out of you. Fur going up and down at each breath.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Your thoughts are screaming at you, practically begging you to run. To hide. Everything in you is telling you to flee. You can’t go through this again. You were not going through this- not with Bruce fucking Wayne. One deadbeat mother was enough.

Your body is tense, your tail flicking quickly from one side to the other. You’re terrified, a mixture of fear and anger coursing through your body like a wildfire. You’re on the verge of bolting, of escaping as fast as your little legs can carry you. Your heart is pumping, your muscles tense and ready to jump.

But you can’t. You’re frozen in place, your body refusing to cooperate. Stuck there, looking directly into the eyes of one of the most powerful men in Gotham.

Your body goes stiff before you can stop it, your muscles flexing. You can barely even register that you’re being scooped up until you’re already in his arms, his large hands gently holding you close as he begins to scratch behind your soft little ears. His voice is low as he leans down and whispers in a soothing almost comforting tone, his warm breath on your fur making you shiver involuntarily. You almost don’t register his words, the soothing, deep baritone trying to reassure and coax you to relax. To calm down. He’s telling you that it was alright that you had nothing to fear. That you were safe.

“Breathe.”

You’re tense in his arms, your body fighting between the urge to stay and run away, to escape from this situation. But the soothing voice and the gentle fingers scratching behind your ears are starting to have a calming effect on you, despite yourself. His deep voice somehow helps soothe your inner cat, the instincts in your half-wild brain slowly calming down.

He tells you to breathe, to calm down, and you realise that you are holding your breath. You take in a gasping lungful of air, feeling your body sag slightly.

His large hands are holding you close, keeping you still and comfortable in his arms. He continues to run the back of his thumb soothingly behind your ears, the comforting gesture making your eyes flutter with pleasure as a soft, involuntary purr-like sound escapes you. He chuckles quietly at the sound, looking down at you with those deep ocean eyes of his.

“Good,” he says aloud, his voice deep and soothing. “Just like that�� Easy, sunshine.”

Your body relaxes against his larger form as he continues to talk softly, his warm breath hitting you with every word he speaks. You find yourself leaning into his touch without meaning to, his strong hands and familiar scent comforting your inner feline instincts. The deep and soothing rumbling of his voice is a strange comfort to your nervous system, bringing an unfamiliar sense of safety.

“That's it... you're doing so well…”

His hands never leave your body, his touch still soothing and tender, like a parent comforting a scared child. His voice is gentle and calm, like a soft, warm blanket, wrapping itself around you and muffling your senses.

You find your body relaxing further, your muscles no longer as tense as before as you lean heavily into him, almost melting. His scent is warm and musky, bringing a strange sense of familiarity and comfort along with it. He chuckles softly as you let your eyes flutter closed, feeling yourself giving in to the comforting presence. You can barely think, just basking.

His large hands never stop their comforting motions, continuing to gently rake through your soft, fluffy fur. The sound of his low voice and the feeling of his warm breath on your fur are both soothing you further, making your inner cat feel safe and protected.

He continues to murmur soft words to you, saying that you're good and that you're doing so well. You feel yourself nodding in a haze, the praise making your half-wild brain feel satisfied and at ease for the first time in a very long time. Your entire body soaking in all the praise and affection. He continues to talk softly to you, his deep voice almost lulling you to complete and utter contentment. You almost don't register his words, still feeling all fuzzy from the sedatives.

He lets his voice die out for a moment, just watching intently as you curl into him. Then he speaks up once more, his low voice filled with genuine remorse and sadness this time as he speaks to you, his large hands subconsciously tracing carefully over the newly bandaged areas on your small form. He murmurs softly about metal allergies and implantation tests.

“We hadn't run nearly enough tests...” he says, his voice full of regret. “We would never have been so careless if we had known you were going to react badly to the metal we used… I apologise.” His large figure is still holding you tight against his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. His voice is soft and apologetic. As if it was his fault that you were allergic to the metal. As if it was normal for someone to put things like trackers inside of you.

Your entire body tenses as you suddenly remember exactly where you are and who you're with. It's as if a switch flips inside of you. You can feel anger and fear rising up in your chest as your ears automatically lay back flat against your head. You suddenly find yourself not feeling safe in his arms anymore, instead feeling panicked. What the fuck did he just say? Trackers?

This time you don't even think, your natural instincts kicking in full force. Your pupils shrink into deep slits as your teeth bare in a feral expression, the fear and anger from before making your claws extend and dig into the billionaire's skin.

He barely has time to react before you're lunging at his wrist, your sharp claws digging deep into his expensive suit, creating deep red gashes on his skin. You're not backing down, not this time.

He lets out a surprised hiss of pain, his grip around you relaxing just enough for you to slip out of his arms. You land on the edge of the desk, your body already crouched low, ready to flee. You can see the Billionaire's shocked expression, his eyes darting quickly between you and the deep red gashes on his skin. He quickly applies pressure on the wound, the gashes deep. He doesn't look angry however, more concerned than anything.

He looks up at you, his expression shifting from shock to concern, making your anger flare up again. He's looking at you like a concerned parent looks at their child when it has hurt itself. He’s the hurt one. It's making you livid.

He speaks your name softly, his voice filled with worry and concern. His expression and tone remaining gentle. Loving. “Are you alright?”

The question makes you twitch in anger, your eyes flashing in irritation. You just mauled the man's arm and he has the nerve to ask you if you're alright?

He slowly reaches out towards you, his expression unchanged, still concerned. "Come back here." he says, his voice gentle and coaxing. "You shouldn't be moving around too fast yet."

You hiss at him, your anger flaring at his patronising tone. The idea of getting closer to the man is making your heart pound wildly in your chest. His expression only softens in response, like he's used to temperamental creatures. "It's alright," he soothes, his voice staying level and even. "Just come back here and let me check if you’re hurt."

"I'm not going to hurt you," he assures gently. "I just want to make sure you're okay. The sedatives should be just about out of your system now, but you really shouldn't be walking around yet." He's still slowly reaching out to you, his voice soft and soothing. "You need to rest, sunshine. You just got a big shock. Come back here. It's alright." His voice is still full of that same paternal concern. Like he's worried for his own child. Like you're some frightened kitten that needs to be comforted. It makes you want to claw out his eyeballs.

You tense, your entire body shaking from the adrenaline and fury coursing through you. The nickname Sunshine from earlier only serves to fuel your anger further. Bringing back memories from your early childhood that you've tried so hard to squash down. You can feel anger and fear mixing into a potent cocktail inside your body, making you feel like you're about to burst from the conflicting emotions. You hiss aloud at him in reply, your body tensing further as he still reaches out.

He pauses as you bare your teeth at him, your tail lashing around wildly. He sighs, his expression turning to one of resignation. "You really are a feral little thing, aren't you?" he comments aloud, his tone holding unfiltered amusement. But his eyes are still concerned, watching your every move intently.

He slowly lowers his arm, seeing that you're not reacting well to his attempts at coaxing you back. He leans back in his chair, seemingly giving you a safe distance to calm down. His gaze stays fixed on you, his large eyes watching your every move, like a hawk watching its prey. He's still watching you with concern, like he's worried you're going to do something reckless.

"Just take a breath," he instructs, his voice still gentle. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep going like this." He's still watching you intently, like he's waiting for you to snap and attack him again.

The urge to transform back into your human form is strong, your emotions are a tumultuous storm inside of you. Wanting to cuss the old man out. But you resist the urge out of pure stubbornness, the part of you that still wants to claw him to shreds still in full control of your thoughts. But you want to scream at him, to say something cutting and hateful.

You have so many things you want to say to the Billionaire, so many insults and scathing remarks that are just on the tip of your tongue. But the feral part of you is not letting you shift to speak. You're stuck between wanting to transform into your human form and shout at him, and staying like this to claw his eyes out.

The elder man tries once more to reach out and grab you, seemingly sensing that you're not quite done with your outbursts yet. But you react quickly, your body moving before your mind can stop you, your paw coming up and swiping at his arm. Claws out and extended. However, this time he's prepared for your reaction. He's quick to grab your extended limb, gripping you firmly by the arm. Before you know it, you're hoisted up into the air, dangling by your arm as you hold back a whine.

He doesn't let go, his grip firm and unyielding. You can feel your arm stinging unpleasantly from where his fingers are wrapped around it, your feet waving in the air as you dangle helplessly. Your inner self hates being so exposed, your body hanging there like a limp doll. You despise being held like this, having no control of the situation. Your ears fold back and pin down against your head.

His pale blue irises focus intently on your outstretched limb, eyes narrowing as he takes note of your claws, which are bared and extended. Noticing how they're not as dull as they would be if they had been cut regularly. You can see his brow furrowing in deep concentration, taking in the length and sharpness. You can also see his jaw clench when he notices just how untouched they look, like they've never been cut before. He lets out a low hum as he studies you, looking down into your eyes, his gaze hardening as he clearly puts two and two together. Thinking to himself for a moment, not phased by your violent squirming.

His mind races at a million miles a minute as he looks down at you, studying your body and your reaction. He can already picture all of the damage you'll do to his furniture, his expression growing more and more stern as his thoughts linger on the possibilities. But as the thoughts of the damage you'll do to the property fades away, another one rises, even darker. One that has him clenching his jaw.

His expression turns grim as he mentally pictures the damage you could do to your other siblings, his eyes flashing with anger. He can see the scenarios clearly, the thought of you harming them making deep, cold anger spread through his veins. His jaw clenches tightly at the thought, his hand gripping your limb a little bit tighter. But there's something else in his eyes as he pictures the damage you could do. Something possessive that shows on his face as he imagines you hurting your brothers.

His eyes remain fixed on your claws as his mind works, contemplating the idea of having one of the boys trim them as soon as possible. But a part of him is also considering a way to prevent them from being used as weapons. A way to keep them from being able to do damage in the future. His jaw tenses again as he mulls over the idea of some sort of restraints, his gaze still on your claws as he plans the next move.

As his mind ponders the options, he thinks back to the scene that just happened, the violent outburst and the way you swiped your claws at him, clearly upset. He's trying to think of a way to keep you from reacting so wildly, and the thought of restraints seems like a good solution. But there's a part of him that doesn't like the idea, not wanting to use something so final on you. Especially when you're still so young.

Yet his mind is also thinking of the danger that your claws represent, especially to yourself and your siblings. He thinks of all of the dangerous things that you could do, the things that you could accidentally hurt. The damage you could cause, the damage you could do to yourself and those around you. His mind is wrestling over the best choice to make, between his protectiveness and his need to keep you safe.

You writhe violently in his hold, using every ounce of strength you can muster to try and tug yourself free. With as much force as you can manage, you tug yourself up to deliver a solid bite to the Wayne's first knuckle, trying to dislodge his grip on your small paw.

Your teeth dig deep into his skin, your sharp canines breaking through the skin like it's butter, drawing a small trickle of blood. With all of your strength you yank against his hold. He lets out a guttural growl of pain as your teeth dig into his flesh, trying to yank his hand away on reflex. He wasn't expecting the sudden attack, the pain of your little fangs burying into his skin making his eyes widened. His fingers immediately loosen around your limb, as he pulls away his injured hand to inspect the bite.

He holds his hand to his face, inspecting the fresh bite mark you left behind, a trickle of blood sliding down his pale finger. You're able to tug your limb out of his loosened grip, landing on the desk with a soft thump. He looks at you with surprised eyes, taking in your feral appearance, your teeth bared and eyes flashing, your pupils small and slitted.

The knock on the office door interrupts the Billionaire's thoughts, his head snapping up to see Damian walking in. "Father, the enclosure has been set u-." the young boy says, but his words die out as his eyes land on you, his expression going soft at first, but then hardening at the sight of the injuries on his fathers hands.

There's a beat of silence, Damian's gaze flitting between you and his father, taking in the scene of you and the older man. The clear evidence of your outburst still present in his bloodied hands.

"What happened?" he finally says, his voice filled with anger and worry. His eyes are hard as he looks at his father's injuries, his own expression hardening further. But his next glance at you is softer, more concerned, seeing your small and feral form hunched up on the desk.

He slowly walks into the office, moving into the room and approaching the desk, his expression still a mix of anger and worry. But his eyes soften as they land on you again, seeing your small fluffy form curled up on top of the desk. His gaze flicks back to his father, waiting for an explanation.

"It's nothing, son," the eldest Wayne responds, his voice calm and reassuring, but his expression is tense as he meets his son's gaze, attempting to downplay the injuries on his hand. But Damian's eyes flick back to the injuries once more, clearly not accepting his father's explanation.

"It doesn't look like nothing," Damian retorts, his voice slightly heated as he glares at the injuries on his father's hand. "You're bleeding." he says, raising an eyebrow in scepticism. His eyes narrow at the obvious lie.

"It's just a scratch," the older man responds, his tone still calm but with an undercurrent of tension beneath it. He can feel the anger rolling off of his son in waves, seeing the glare directed at the small bite mark on his hand.

You don't bother waiting around for the confrontation, swiftly leaping off of the desk and landing near Damian's feet, your small form making a light thump against the ground. You can feel the tension in the air, wanting to get away from the arguing voices and this entire situation

Damian's attention is immediately drawn down to you as you land at his feet, his expression shifting from anger to surprise at your sudden appearance. He looks down at you, his expression still hard but softening at the sight of you, his eyes taking in your small and fierce form.

He bends down to your level, a hint of worry showing in his eyes at your unexpected action. He seems torn between staying focused on his father and his apparent injuries or looking further at you and your current state. His gaze is flickering between you and his father, not sure where to put his focus.

You'd heard tidbits about the youngest Wayne boy before, the press often calling him the "youngest Wayne" whenever he made public appearances, and you remember hearing that he was around fifteen or sixteen. He has a well defined face, but there's still a youthful innocence about him, his features still holding a boyish charm. Your gaze doesn't linger on him for too long, your legs quickly darting towards the exit, your mind focused on escaping.

As you make a beeline for the exit, you can feel his eyes following you as you move. There's a hint of surprise in his expression at your sudden escape attempt, his gaze still flickering between you and his father. He stands there for a moment, torn between stopping you and letting you attempt. Then, the reminder that you're still recovering from the surgery rings through his mind.

With minimal effort, he quickly pulls something from his pocket, sending it flying directly at the door. The object hits the door's hard wood with a loud thump, causing the door to slam shut, the door's hinges groaning loudly in protest. Your heart skips a beat as you're suddenly blocked from the exit, trapped in the room with the two of them. What the hell was that??

kind of abrupt ending, but I was rushing to get this out. So... See you in part three?

All reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated and encouraged!

If I begged would anyone create me some fanart? Please…

A special thanks to @zenychwan , @143637-hrrm , @goddessofalltrash ,@amisupposedtomakesenserightnow ,@redeemingmygloryintopurgatory , @yune1337 , @busenxr , @probabydeadbynow , @imaginarydreams , @cyberwears and @tagzi with the friggin prettiest kitties n puppies ever who definitely helped me write this chapter by sending in pics of their pets!💚

Guess who can no longer get the one thing that I’ve been saving up for for my birthday because my pay got cut 🤗 I’m officially fucking broke now. I’m actually really upset. Probably gonna be forced to not do anything for the big 20th now.

On a happier note, the chapter is finally out! I thank all the people who've waited so patiently for this to come out, you're hella appreciated💚

2K notes · View notes

hotteokyu · 4 months ago

Text

Do Not Touch

Synopsis ~ Wooyoung accidentally bought a feral omega on the street. Jongho is a recently presented alpha who struggles with his unstable pheromones. There are a few bad ideas, and you and Jongho can't stop pawing at each other.

Pairings ~ alpha!jongho x omega!fem!reader x omega!wooyoung

Word count ~ 15.3k

Genre / warnings ~ NSFW/EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, omegaverse, smut, drama, fluff, they are idols, cursing, human (omega) trafficking, hongjoong gets angry a lot, reader is not of sound mind for a lot of it, sexual acts without actual consent from either parties (idek how else to put it), there will be consent, dry humping, kissing, scenting, growling, bratty behavior, reader and Jongho are obsessed with each other, poor Wooyoung has to deal with it, first time knotting, threesome, teasing, boy kissing, woojong sex

MINORS DNI ! ! !

mwa ᯓᡣ𐭩

“Okaay, I get it,” Wooyoung grumbled, walking slowly behind his manager through the empty street. His phone vibrated in his tight grip as he tried to play a smile for the camera being held to his face.

“Don’t mess it up this time,” Seonghwa nagged, mumbling more nonsense that the mic wouldn’t pick up unfortunately. Atiny should’ve really seen how annoying he was.

“Yeees, I get it, I’ll be careful.”

“And don’t growl at anyone. They’re not your friends,” he mumbled, almost embarrassed to bring something like that up.

Wooyoung scoffed. “It’s not like anyone’s intimidated by an omega’s growl. I’m just being playful.”

Seonghwa was just about done uselessly preparing Woo for his event when he actually heard a growl from the other end.

“Wooyoung, I’m being completely serious,” he said, glancing at his phone in disbelief.

“I’m being serious too,” he giggled, then quickly stopped as another growl vibrated through the phone.

“Wooyoung-!”

“Shh, Hyung,” he whispered.

“I’ll send you home right now if you growl one more time,” he scolded.

“What? That wasn’t even me? I think…” Another growl. “Someone’s in trouble, Hyung. I can smell it a little.”

“What? Smell what?”

“I have to go!” he whispered, hanging up and shoving his phone into his hoodie pocket before glancing in the direction of the sound… and the worsening smell.

“Hyung, can you turn off the camera?” he asked, taking his mic off and handing it over to his manager, who switched off the camera, putting it down without needing a reason. He could smell it too.

“I’ll call the police,” his manager said, putting his hand out slowly toward the antsy omega. “Stay right here. Don’t move.”

“The police?” he scoffed. “It’s an omega.” He sniffed the subtle burn to the faint lilies. “What the fuck will the police do?” They weren’t even that far away.

His manager turned, covering his mouth as he spoke on the phone. Wooyoung heard a whimper. Then silence. He ran.

“Fucker,” the man snarled. “How am I s’posed to see if she’s any good if her legs are tied?” He tilted his head, leaning into the beta’s face. The beta trembled, crossing his eyes to maintain the contact with the alpha.

Wooyoung stumbled into a wooden fence as he was attacked with burning masculine, putrid scents. They stunk up an old parking lot outside an abandoned warehouse. There were several alphas lined up behind a much stronger, uglier one. In front of them was a weak-looking beta who stood beside an omega, you, tied to a chair, unconscious.

“M-my master said-” The alpha spat in the beta’s face, watching with a disgusted frown as the beta squeezed his violated eyes shut.

“Untie her.” The alpha’s men started to move toward you and Wooyoung nearly lunged out from his spot, but the beta quickly stepped in front of you, shaking his hands as he panicked.

“My master told me not to give her to you if you inspect her before paying!” he shouted. The men paused and glanced toward the alpha.

He grumbled, eyeing your unconscious body. “You’re trying to fuck me over with some loose hag?” he snarled. “This is ridiculous! Doesn’t he realize no one wants a feral bitch these days? Will he kill her if I refuse her?”

The beta swallowed hard as the alpha himself neared you.

“Just let me take a look.”

“I’ll purchase the omega!” Wooyoung shouted, slipping on his paper mask as he stepped out into the parking lot.

The alpha growled as he stepped closer, and Wooyoung tilted his head. “I’ll pay now. No inspections needed.”

“Who the fuck are you?” The alpha took just two steps to meet him before he could reach the beta or you. “You-”

“Fantastic!” the beta exclaimed, shoving past the alpha and handing Wooyoung a tablet for payment. The alpha looked stunned, but before he could take the tablet from him, he was already done. The omega was his.

The alpha shoved him suddenly. Hard. He stumbled to the ground, his head slamming against the concrete. He snarled at the creature. When he got to his feet, he was pushed again.

“You’re pitiful” Wooyoung scoffed, only shuffling back a little that time. “I thought no one wants ferals these days anyway.”

“It was mine,” he growled.

“Shut the fuck up,” Wooyoung grumbled, rolling his eyes slightly. “You’re fucking mated,” he growled, motioning toward the alpha’s clearly marked nape.” You want to buy a feral omega? Want her to kill your mate maybe? Or maybe you wanna use her as a toy. Keep her locked away for when you’re bored. Disgusting.”

The sirens in the distance shut the alpha’s jaw tight. It wasn’t very illegal to sell and purchase omegas like this. But he was probably a somewhat public scumbag. He couldn’t have his name tarnished like that. Though, neither could Wooyoung.

The alpha backed off first, filing into a black van with his goons. They drove off pretty fucking fast.

The beta was gone.

It was just him. And you.

His harsh glare softened as he laid his eyes on you. You were beautiful but so destroyed. You were covered in ripped cloth and torn skin. Blood, bruises, and scars.

He knelt down in front of you. There were remnants of foam at the sides of your mouth. Your lips twitched as you struggled with your consciousness. You were drugged, definitely.

He slowly began to untie you. As his manager’s scent came closer and closer, his feet dashing across the pavement, he closed his eyes as he realized exactly what he’d done. He’d saved you. But he’d fucking bought you. He bought an omega.

“Wooyoung!” he gasped. “Fuck! Are you okay?! Is she okay? The police are almost here!” Wooyoung glanced at his face with an unsure expression.

“Hyung…”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The looks on their faces were heartbreaking. But the more he thought about it, the more he was sure he did the right thing. Even as he was deep in a bow, kneeling on the ground, he knew he did the right thing. She was free now. As long as no one found out about what he did, it was all alright. She was free.

But they looked so disappointed.

“Did you-!” Hongjoong had to take a long breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly between his fingers. “Did you think for just a SECOND? Just one? That that might not have been the best thing to do?” His eyes were wide, his brows high in utter disbelief. “Fuck, Wooyoung, this could destroy hundreds of lives. Us, our familes, the company, the employees, their fucking families. If this gets out… holy shit…” He was really trying his best not to scream. He really was. Because Wooyoung was an omega, and, although it usually didn’t matter, Hongjoong was an alpha. He would hurt him by letting his anger loose. But it was quickly becoming nearly impossible.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry,” Wooyoung pleaded, his voice trembling as he rubbed his hands together desperately. “You know she would’ve gone with that man. She would’ve been his slave. She would’ve-”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa gently interrupted. “Get off the floor. Let’s just talk about it, okay?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I deserve to die, Hyung, but I’d rather die than see her get sold away. Fuck the police. Fuck the law. Fuck me,” he bit his lip as he felt hot tears built at his eyes. “She doesn’t deserve that, Hyung.”

“The police-”

“No!” He lifted his head with a deep scowl. “You know they wouldn't have helped her! You know the law wouldn’t have stopped it!”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw in frustration, looking away from Wooyoung. He knew he was right. But he knew the risk was far more than just the one Omega. No one deserved that. But neither would the innocent people who’d get caught in the crossfire.

“How is she?” Seonghwa asked, letting Wooyoung’s expression soften as he met the older omega’s face.

“She’s still unconscious. Um… but she’s being treated right now. She has a lot of broken bones. And little things. The doctors said she probably did it all to herself.”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together in a thin line, blinking a few times. He hid it well with his subtle expression, but his scent soured significantly. Seonghwa, Wooyoung knew, was not against his decision. Not at all. In fact, he wanted to see the omega and care for her.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa knew where Hongjoong came from, but they couldn’t make themselves regret Wooyoung’s decision.

“I’m going to make sure she’s safe,” he said. “I’ll find her a good shelter. I’ll make sure she gets help. I’ll make sure they never find her.”

“Make sure no one finds out.” Hongjoong said his final thought with a softness to it. “The company will do the same. Just be careful.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Your eyes shot open with a gasp of air. Everything was a mixture of white and red, your eyes bloodshot as they widened, searching frantically around the room. You were laying down, strapped to a surface. You couldn’t move a single muscle. You pulled at your arms and legs, but they were restrained completely. Even your chest was bound down. You ground your teeth, your head lifting off of the pillow as you let out a frustrated growl. You couldn’t think. You didn’t know where you were. You just knew you needed to get out of there.

But your head was throbbing, your ears pounding with each thump of your pulse. It was painful and weakening as you tried to think. You were gasping for air, searching for a way out.

Everything was white. White walls, white ceiling, white bed, white straps. There was nothing but white.

“It’s best to let her calm herself down.” You froze immediately as you heard a voice in the distance. You couldn’t smell anything. You could only hardly hear the sounds beyond the room.

“She shouldn’t be tied up like that,” another voice said. “She won’t calm down like that.”

Your chest began to vibrate slightly as you let out a constant warning sound toward the voices. If they came closer, you would bite their fucking heads off.

“It would be easier if we knew why she went feral, but, unfortunately, we can only infer based on what you witnessed.”

“Just fucking untie her.” You heard a deep growl, and you echoed the noise immediately. But when you heard footsteps coming closer, you whimpered slightly. You couldn’t protect herself like this. They could attack you, and you couldn’t protect yourself.

“Mr. Jung!”

“I’ll take care of it. Did you contact any professionals before handling her or did you just restrain her like any normal patient? Fucking idiot.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you violently thrashed against the restraints. The door in the corner opened, and you hissed at the intruder. You glared at him, grinding your teeth as your lips trembled.

Your eyes shot to the door. It opened into a hallway of more white. You could escape. If you got out of your restraints, you could get away.

But then he came closer, and you faltered in your thrashing. You sniffed the air in confusion, your eyes glancing back at the intruder. He was an omega. Your growls hitched in your throat as you watched him step closer again. He was a few feet from you, and he crouched down.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, reaching up toward his neck to peel something off. Your pupils flared as his scent gently wafted through the air. It was so sweet and light, calming your throbbing senses.

You slowly closed your lips into a small frown. You whimpered softly, wanting the pain to go away. His scent was easing that discomfort and constant alarm.

He tilted his head, unsure of what you wanted, and you mewled, wanting him to come closer. You needed his scent closer.

He took one hesitant step, and his scent became so much stronger. You wanted to reach out and pull his scent gland to your nose, but your arm pulled uselessly against the straps. He glanced from your arm to your pleading eyes before slowly reaching for the restraint.

Your breathing picked up a bit, your heart starting to race as his fingers neared your skin. He could hurt you. He could attack you. But your worries were quickly eased when his fingers unlatched your restraints and your arm could pull itself free. Immediately you grabbed the omega’s arm and tugged his wrist into your face. He squeeked, his arm trembling slightly in shock as you took a long breath into the scent gland at his wrist.

It was still too faint, though. You eyed him and his soft, nervous expression, and you gently pulled on his arm, beckoning him to come even closer.

“Let me take these off first, okay?” he said, smiling gently.

He reached out with his other arm toward your legs. You held his arm to your chest as he worked at each restraint. He freed your chest, and then he finally freed your arm.

You shot up off of the bed, tumbling the omega to the floor. You straddled him, pushing his head to the ground as you hurriedly buried your face in the nape of his neck. You inhaled deeply and desperately as you tried to breathe in this addictive scent. You grabbed his arms and pinned them to the ground in fear that he would try to push you away. When he didn’t fight against you, you began to purr.

He sighed, the tinge of uncertainty in him fading away as he tilted his head to give you more access.

“You can scent me, pretty,” he whispered softly against your ear. Your muscles relaxed a bit against him as you let your chest vibrate vulnerably.

You slowly started to scent him, rubbing your sore glands over his. It felt so pleasant despite the slight sting of your skin. What was even more pleasant was the purr of the omega underneath you. You whimpered in relief as his chest vibrated with yours.

“Such a good girl. Does it feel good?”

You swallowed hard before you could even try to speak. Your throat was so sore and scratched. It hurt, but you felt embarrassed to let him hear your hoarse voice when his was so soft and perfect.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you let your head rest above his shoulder, just breathing in the air filled with his scent.

“Mr. Jung!” A voice shattered the content vibrations and little noises between you two, and you shot your body up from its limp position. “You can’t-!” You growled sharply as a man entered the room. He was scowling, stomping inside with a syringe and a muzzle in his hand.

He was going to hurt him. He was going to attack your omega.

You grabbed his head and pulled it to your chest as you hovered over him. You bared your teeth, your nose scrunching as his putrid smell contaminated the room.

“She’s okay! She’s calm!” your omega shouted, his voice muffled by your shirt. “Get out!”

“It’s not safe, sir! We have to sedate her before she hurts you.” He took a step closer, and your omega tried to break free. You panicked, your grip on his head tightening frantically. He was in danger if he left. You had to protect him, but he kept pushing away.

“Don’t touch her!” he growled, but with one final step, the man strapped the muzzle over your mouth. You buried your omega further under you as the man grabbed your arm and pushed the drug inside. Your eyes drooped as you whimpered, determined to keep him safe from the intruder.

As your body fell limp, Wooyoung could finally pull his head from your grip. You quickly began to collapse to the floor, but he grabbed you and pulled you close. He took a few slow breaths as he gazed down at your distressed, broken expression.

He didn’t glance toward the doctor as he simply took you in his arms, stood, and laid you on the bed.

“She’s mostly healed, so we’ll transfer her to a proper hospital for recovery,” Wooyoung said, gently moving the hair from your face and patting it down nicely. “You are not allowed to enter this room until she’s gone.”

He did look at the man then. His eyes were borderline feral themselves, his pupils drawn back into thin slits. He motioned toward the door calmly.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You could smell him, though just faintly. It couldn’t have been long since he was with you, but you were somewhere else. Where was he? He must’ve been taken. You didn’t protect him. He was in trouble. You needed to get to him.

But this room also had no way out. It was small and secluded, and all you could hear were the sounds of your breath and heartbeat. All you could smell was him mixed with your own scent.

You weren’t restrained anymore. You could get up, but it was useless. You walked back and forth, banging on each wall uselessly. You shouted and wailed for help, but your voice was eventually too tired to continue. You collapsed in the middle of the room.

You sniffed your stale clothes for any hint of distress, trying to find clues as to if your omega was hurt or not. You could hardly smell anything.

And then you heard a voice. It was a female, talking softly through the wall. “Miss, I have some food for you.”

“Where is he?!” you growled, crawling over to the voice and banging your fist against the wall. “Don’t fucking touch him! Bring him back!” you demanded, scraping your nails along the surface desperately.

“I’ll bring him,” she said, and you paused your growling and scraping to listen. “But he said you have to eat your food first. Will you eat it for him?”

“He said that?” you mumbled, sitting back on your feet. “I-if he said that, then I’ll eat it.” If it meant he was safe. If he would come.

The wall slowly opened, and a small lady appeared. She held a plastic plate full of meat and eggs and vegetables. You backed away, baring your teeth just slightly at the lady. She took a step inside and closed the entrance. You saw something else in her hands. A piece of cloth, maybe a sweater. She crouched down and placed the plate on the ground. Then she smiled, holding up the sweater.

“He sent a gift.”

You quickly crawled over and snatched the sweater from her hands, retreating back to your wall. You brought the sweater to your nose and closed your eyes in relief. His scent.

You lifted your head slowly to look at the woman, but she was gone. You put the sweater on, feeling your omega’s warmth and scent envelope you. You felt nearly content as you crawled over to the plate of food by the other wall. If you ate the food, he would come see you. He was safe.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“You can’t go there,” Hongjoong said, watching as Wooyoung’s expression dropped completely. “It can't be disguised as going to the hospital for yourself. It’s a facility for feral rehab, Wooyoung.”

“Maybe I’ve gone feral,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes when Hongjoong looked very unamused.

“The company declined.” He shrugged. “Trust me, I asked and argued for your case. They said sending your sweater was risky enough. You can’t go see her.”

“Go see who?”

Both heads turned in shock as Jongho innocently stood from a chair in the corner of Hongjoong’s bedroom. He was busy on his phone as he asked, not really too interested in the situation.

“When did you get here?” Hongjoong asked, blinking in confusion.

Wooyoung eyed his captain. “He’s been here the whole time.” He scoffed, leaning back in his own chair, clearly offended. “Can you seriously not tell the difference between us yet? It’s been years.”

Hongjoong avoided eye contact with the omega, puckering his lips innocently. “It’s literally the same scent.”

“Hyung,” Jongho whined, clutching his chest dramatically. “That hurts my pride. They’re very different.”

“What? You don’t like smelling like me?” Wooyoung grumbled. “I smell delicious.”

Jongho scrunched his nose. “Eh… you smell a bit…”

“You smell the same,” Hongjoong huffed, ending the conversation with a warning spike in his own scent. I guess the alpha was a bit worn out from Wooyoung's situation.

“Who are you guys talking about anyway?”

“Ah… At my schedule the other week…” Hongjoong sighed, sitting on his bed with a small bounce. “...a feral omega was being sold to some alpha, but I bought her first and sent her to a hospital. But when I met her after she woke up, she really liked my scent, I guess. She’s getting help right now, but apparently she won’t calm down unless they promise I’ll go see her.”

Jongho looked up from his phone and blinked twice. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said, staring with wide eyes at Hongjoong. “Our captain won’t let me visit her.”

“Wooyoung,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Can’t you cooperate? You know why you can’t go.”

The omega huffed and turned away, staring at Jongho. “She’d get better if I visited her.”

“She should just come here,” Jongho said, plopping down next to Hongjoong on the bed. His weight indented the mattress and made Joong lean into him, his cheek squishing into his shoulder. He didn’t really make an effort to move, though. “I mean, if she likes Woo’s scent, she’ll like mine.”

Hongjoong huffed a small laugh. It wasn’t just him. Only a few little hints were different between their scents. Jongho’s was just a tad sweeter and softer than the omega’s. Other than that, mostly the same.

“No, no,” Wooyoung grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance. “She’ll recover. I’ll send her more stuff, and, when she gets better, I’ll find her a good shelter. She’ll be okay.” He bit his lip, feeling a bit unconvinced himself.

He worried about you. He scented his clothes and blankets and sent them to you multiple times a week. He heard you’d built a nest and was content with your life when you laid in it. You weren't getting better, though. It was all very temporary. When his scent wore off after a week, you would tear everything apart and scream and growl, demanding he came to see you in person. He wondered if this was just feeding into your mental state, but the facility insisted you were getting better, just very, very slowly.

So that’s why he thought he could go through with his schedule in Japan. He would be just a few hours away, and it would only be for five days. Then he could send you his rescented items. It would be okay.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“She isn’t taking no for an answer, Mr. Jung. We understand your circumstances, but the patient can not improve any further without your presence.” The woman on the other end took a shaky breath. “Unfortunately ferality is not very predictable, so we can only speculate based on her behavior, but we fear she might enter an irreversible state if she does not reconnect with her mate, which she has claimed to be you.”

Wooyoung closed his eyes and lifted the phone from his ear for a brief moment with his thoughts. Yelling wouldn’t help anything, but he wanted to scream. He strained his jaw as he suppressed the deep growl sizzling in his throat. He put the phone back to his ear and spoke very calmly.

“I was told this wouldn’t happen,” he said, smiling to try and ease his voice into a smooth, professional tone. “I made it clear that I would not be able to help her in person, and I was told it wouldn’t be necessary.” His voice rose instinctively, but he quickly stopped and gathered himself with a deep, seething breath. “How long do I have?”

“W-We fear it could happen within the next day. It is a very abrupt transition, and it is-”

Wooyoung ended the call and glanced at his manager in the corner of the room. This fucking schedule wasn’t even important, and yet they insisted on him going despite his situation.

No.

He decided he could go. This was his fault as well. He shouldn’t have left Korea when you were still so unstable.

He heard the cheers of the crowd from their room, and he wished, for the first time in his life, that they would shut the fuck up.

He needed to leave, but he fucking couldn’t. He needed to go to you.

Or did he?

He looked down at the phone in his trembling hand with a sudden idea. His ideas were never very bright. That's how he got himself in this situation, after all. But it seemed like all he had at that moment.

~a quick note~

Choi Jongho was 23 years old. It was common for idols to present later than the average person due to the constant physical stress on their bodies during adolescence. Usually, one would present between 14 and 18, but idols would often present around 19 or 20. Jongho presented as an alpha at 22. It was extremely rare, but it wasn’t very concerning.

Of course, it wasn’t normal.

Jongho’s pheromones were just a bit unstable. He had a hard time controlling his instincts. He was lucky he had eight older pack members to keep him in check. Otherwise he might not have had the successful career he had.

It had been a few months since his presentation, so he knew he would eventually gain control over his pheromones. His doctors reassured him many times that he would have a normal, stable second-gender after about a year, or three ruts.

Jongho’s ruts were horrible and outright scary for the poor alpha. He was driven by pure instinct and would often want to fuck the omegas in the pack. So he would lock himself in his room and take care of everything himself, even if the other members wanted to help. A knot without anyone to take it was extremely painful, and so Jongho always associated sex with pain. He hated it. Even though the other members had sex often, he would never join. He was too scared.

Even then, his instincts always went against him.

That’s the gist of the alpha, Choi Jongho.

So you can imagine the sigh Wooyoung let out when Jongho picked up the phone. He was seriously about to leave this in the hands of the pack’s baby alpha…

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You whimpered as you picked up one of the first blankets your omega had ever sent you. It was hardly intact anymore, but they let you keep it. Everything else that was torn had mostly been cleared out, leaving a neat nest for you and your guest. You would have gone for their napes in normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal at all. He was coming to see you.

Finally they were giving him back. You could protect him, and you could escape together. You purred at the thought, laying down on the cold floor, nuzzling your nose into the scentless blanket.

Then there was a knock at the door, and you sat up straight, your neck craning to get closer to the door from your spot on the wall. When no one came inside, you tilted your head in confusion and crawled a bit closer.

“Pretty?”

You paused, staring at the wall in awe.

Pretty.

That was you.

You crawled all the way to the wall and pawed at it with a small whimper. You couldn’t smell him, but you heard him call for you. You knew he was there.

“They’re going to let you smell me, okay?” he said gently, and your scrunched, confused expression lightened so quickly as you nodded.

There were some clanking noises outside for a moment before that familiar, gentle scent wafted into the room. You felt tears fill your eyes as you let your lungs fill with the scent from its source.

“How are you, Pretty? I heard you made a nest with my gifts,” he said, and you pressed your ear against the wall to hear his soothing voice louder.

“Wanna show you,” you mumbled, drowsily letting your body go limp against the wall. He was quiet for a second.

“I bet it’s so comfy~” He hummed to himself as he thought, and you longed to feel those light vibrations. “You-”

“When will you come in?” you interrupted, feeling a bit impatient. He was so close but way too far to feel very at ease. It was like an itch in your chest that wouldn’t go away.

He was quiet again.

“I promise I’ll be good,” you mumbled. “I ate my food and made a pretty nest just for you. Please come see,” you begged, a small pout forming naturally. “You’ll be safe in my nest. I’ll be good, a-and I’ll protect you this time.” You were panting, desperately staring at the wall as if it would open that way. You twitched with each passing second, biting your lip when he never responded.

“I’ll be right back, pretty,” he said.

You heard him walk away, and you growled. Were they taking him away? Was that it? You weren’t allowed to feel him? To see him? To scent him?

“Pretty~” His voice was so soft, practically whispering in your ear through the wall, and your tense muscles relaxed. “Listen to me, okay?”

“...Okay…”

“I’m a little shy, so is it okay if we cover your eyes? If you let this nice lady cover your eyes, then I’ll come inside.” You raised a brow, confused and a little disappointed. But… if that’s all it took…

“Okay.”

“She’s going to come in and put something over your eyes. Then I’ll come inside. Let her do it, okay?”

“Okay.”

And then the wall opened, and the usual lady walked inside. You’d come to know her a little. Trust her to bring you nutrients. At least you knew she wasn’t exactly a threat. But to have her touch you… You couldn’t help but bare your teeth, clutching your pants and nearly tearing them as she crouched in front of you and wrapped something over your eyes. It clicked in the back, secured to your head.

Then she left, and your omega’s scent got closer. You whimpered, reaching out blindly until you tapped his hand. He slid his fingers between yours and you purred. You slowly crawled toward him and touched his body. His chest, and his arm, and his neck, and his cheek. You were eager to feel him everywhere and scent him completely, but you couldn’t see. You needed to be careful.

“Hi,” he quietly said, and you pushed yourself against him. You buried your nose in his neck and your purring grew louder with each inhale. You were so happy to be back in his hold. He placed his hands on your waist to hold you up as you leaned entirely on him.

“Omega,” you purred, “I missed you so much.”

You rubbed your scent into his nape, delighting in the increasing pressure of his hands on your waist. But then you paused with a frown. Why wasn’t he purring too? He liked it when you scented him. Did he not like it anymore? Was he hurt? You distanced yourself just a bit from his body, and tilted your head.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

Maybe it was the position. That must’ve been it. He was uncomfortable sitting on the hard floor.

You moved away from him and took his hand in yours, guiding him into your nest. He giggled, and it quickly became one of your favorite sounds.

Once he was fully in the organized mess of his clothes and blankets, you gently pushed him to lay down.

“It’s so comfy,” he praised. “You built a beautiful nest.”

You moved over him, a purring mess as you became a puddle on top of him. You sat on his lap, and you reached for his hand, bringing his wrist to your nose.

“You smell sweet today,” you mumbled, squirming a little in joy. You brought his pulse point to your lips and paused. His pulse was so quick. You frowned. “What’s wrong, omega?”

“Nothing, pretty, I’m okay,” he assured, reaching up with his other hand and softly stroking your hair.

“Are you hurt?” you mumbled, putting his wrist on the ground and lowering your nose to his neck. Your chest flushed to his, you could feel his heart beating so fast.

“No,” he said, leaning his cheek against your head gently. “I’m just excited to see you.”

You grinned, purring as you pushed your body further into his. “Then are you sleepy?” you asked.

“No, pretty, I’m not sleepy. I can play with you as long as you want.” He rubbed a gentle thumb back and forth on your thigh, a subconscious movement that had you thrilled. You loved each word and each touch, but some little things bothered you so much.

You pushed lightly against his head, but he never presented his neck for you to scent. He kept his cheek against your hair. He wasn’t…

“Then why aren’t you purring?” You pouted, lifting yourself from his neck and placing your hands on his chest. He was quiet for a long while. “I-Is my sweater too thick? I just can’t feel it?” You quickly went to take it off, lifting it up to your chest, but he grabbed your hands before it could go any further.

You dropped the sweater in confusion, but then you froze. It was just a single inhale, and then it was gone, but it was definitely there. Your eyes widened, your pulse quickening suddenly. Your hands reached to grab your blindfold in sudden terror.

Alpha pheromones.

You tried to rip the thing from your head but it wouldn’t budge. You grunted, tearing at the cloth, but it was too thick to break. You shuddered as you smelled it again, and you realized its source in complete horror. You pushed off of the man underneath you, scrambling to the edge of the room, panting as you kicked yourself further and further against the wall, unable to move farther away from him. You growled, tugging and pulling at the blindfold until finally it snapped in the back and fell to the floor.

You fell silent as you looked up at the stranger in your nest. It wasn’t your omega. Where was your omega? Did this alpha eat him? Did he hurt him? Your thoughts replaced your fear with rage as you bared your teeth, preparing your trembling legs to lunge at him. He deserved to die. You would fucking tear his skin from his glands. You’d fucking scented him. A stranger. An alpha. An alpha that had hurt your omega.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly. His voice made you falter for just a second before you growled again.

Before he could say anything else, you tackled him, his head slamming against the floor as you growled and tore at his clothes. You shredded his thick sweater and freed his bare chest. You grabbed his jaw and twisted his head far to the left to force him into submission. With his nape vulnerable, you leaned down and opened your mouth wide, drool dripping from your trembling teeth. But you couldn’t bring yourself to bite. To rip his most precious part from his body. Because his scent was so clear there. It was full of fear much like yours.

When your teeth gently pressed against his scent gland, you heard him whimper. But he made no move to stop you, or shove you, or hurt you. He would just lay there and take it?

What were you doing? You were going to kill this man?

For what?

“Where is my omega?” you asked, your jaw trembling as you fought the urge to protect yourself. Your mind was spinning in a tight circle. Bite him, don’t bite him. Bite him. Don’t fucking bite him.

“He’s a friend,” he said, his voice tight as he tried to keep his composure.

“Where is he?” you growled, shutting your mouth quickly in a scowl. Your brain was buzzing, your eyes focusing and unfocusing as they darted from each speck on his glistening nape.

You felt tears form in your eyes, hot and heavy as they drooped. You fought against gravity and held them there. You couldn’t show weakness.

“You smell just like him,” you said, forcing your eyes to keep open in fear that blinking would separate the heavy flood of water from your burning orbs. “You smell so good, but you’re bad,” you choked. “You lied to me. You hurt my omega, didn’t you?” Your voice broke into a single soft, suppressed sob, and his scent spiked in concern.

“I didn’t hurt him,” he rushed to say. “I-I’m his friend. He couldn’t come see you, so he asked me to help you instead. Pretty, I’m so sorry I-”

“He never came to see me,” you mumbled, biting your lip hard as you let your eyes squeeze shut with a harsh sting. A tiny tear dripped onto the blanket beneath you. “They said he would, but he never came. He doesn’t want me.” Another sob broke loose, and you sucked in a hard, vocal breath. “No one wants me.”

“I want you,” he whispered.

Your eyes opened slowly, and you pressed your hands into his bare chest, sitting up hesitantly. You tilted your head, gazing at his face. He remained presented for you. He didn’t move an inch. His eyes were closed. Soft streaks of tiny tears drew damp lines from his eye, over the bridge of his nose, to the blanket where there were three dark dots. His hair was messy, the few strands left laying over his forehead just a bit darker from his sweat.

He was scared.

“Pretty,” he mumbled, opening his eyes slowly. His gaze had a soft determination, but his eyes trembled slightly as they tried to decide which of your eyes to look into. “Your omega wants you too. We all want you.”

You tilted your head quietly. “You’re a good alpha,” you whimpered as you felt his soft trembles beneath your body. “I won’t hurt you. I’m sorry I scared you.” You bit your lip softly as you gazed at him guiltily.

“I know, Pretty,” he said, forcing a tight smile. “You didn’t scare me.”

You smiled at his act of bravery, leaning back down and nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck where his hair tickled your skin lightly.

“Will you stay with me?” you asked, squirming against him to mold your into his. “I don’t wanna be alone again.”

When he whispered a soft “yes,” you rewarded your new friend with your gentle pheromones. You knew he would like them because he was an alpha. He could be your alpha since he was so good to you. But he stiffened as you let them out. He even pushed you away just a bit, and you pouted, pushing back against him.

“Alpha, do you not like my scent?” you mumbled.

“Th-that’s not it,” he whispered, his breath picking up a bit. You stopped letting the pheromones out with a huff, but his lips suddenly pressed lightly against your ear. His hands slid around your lower back, wrapping around you and trapping you there. “Don’t stop,” he purred.

He stopped as soon as he started, turning his head away and slapping his hand to his mouth with wide eyes. He let go of you and pushed his hands under his back, putting his body’s weight on them as he took slow, deep breaths.

“Alpha?” you whimpered and gained a long groan in response. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily through his nose as he cupped his mouth tightly. “Alpha, what’s wrong?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“You did WHAT?!” Hongjoong screamed out of pure shock rather than anger. He was fucking pissed, of course.

“You’re joking,” Seonghwa laughed. “You mean he’s there right now?” His eyes were wide in horror as the remnants of his disbelieving smile were slowly fading.

Wooyoung nodded, and both Seonghwa and Hongjoong jumped to their feet. Hongjoong grabbed Wooyoung’s arm and dragged him to the door as they all ran out of the dorm, grabbing whatever shoes were in reach.

Wooyoung felt like he would cry as he explained the situation on the way there. When he was done telling the story, there was no response. The car ride was silent.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Jongho was trembling as he gently mouthed at your neck, just below your jaw. Your fingers ran through his hair as you purred encouragingly. He hovered over you, his chest pushed against yours. He hummed pleasantly at your vibrations, and his mind was so tingly and fuzzy from your scent.

He groaned as he left a trail of light kisses from your jaw to your soft lips. They moved slowly and gently, hesitant but instinctually comforting. He slid his tongue between your puffy lips, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb rested on your chin and opened your mouth just a bit wider.

You sighed into his mouth, your hand sliding from his hair to the nape of his neck as you caressed the sensitive skin there. He pushed further into you, wanting to feel more of your ticklish touches and praising vibrations. He opened his eyes, gazing at your soft expression as your hips connected just slightly.

“So sweet,” he mumbled into your mouth, wondering if your scent would get sweeter if he-

He paused, lifting his body from yours immediately. His pupils contracted in sudden horror. What the fuck was he doing?!

You whimpered, your hands resting on your chest as it slowly rose and fell. Your eyes were glazed over, and your skin was so hot and smooth as it kept your clothes tightly to your burning skin.

He shook his head and slapped his cheeks together. He needed to stay focused. He couldn’t give in.

No matter how fucking delicious you looked.

He whimpered, covering his eyes helplessly. He needed to leave. Your scent, your touch, just looking at you. It was getting to him, and he didn’t know how much he could take.

He heard a muffled moan, and he uncovered his eyes to glance down at you. He watched as a tear slipped from your eye, and your teeth bit hard on your bottom lip. His breathing picked up as he let out a small, sudden whimper of pleasure. Something felt so good. Your soft, constant movements brought his eyes down and down to where your hips connected. His brows furrowed together as he let out a choked groan. Your hips ground down against his aching bulge, giving him just the slightest friction. He could smell your sweet slick and hear it with each press against him. He saw it seep through your shorts and onto his pants, and he had to place his hands on the ground to support his body as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the weakening sight. He pushed instinctively against you once and growled quietly at the pressure, his head hanging as he stared at your clothed pussy against his cock.

He needed to move away. Fuck. You were so wet. He needed to move away. His hyungs. That’s right. They would yell at him. They would punish him. They would be so disappointed. He took a deep, trembling breath. That’s right. He would call Seonghwa-hyung for help. He would know what to do.

“Alpha,” you moaned, and he twitched, his eyes shooting to yours, though his head remained limp, hanging by his neck. You pushed a bit harder, setting a slow, hesitant rhythm.

He let low rumbles escape as he took your waist in his hands and held you still.

“Please, alpha, I wanna feel it ngh~” you whimpered as you watched his eyes through his damp bangs grow so fucking hungry as they were forced back on your pussy against him.

He bared his teeth, rolling his hips against yours as he lifted his head and let out a pleasured sigh. He brought his movement to a quick, desperate pace, grinding as if he was fucking you. Fucking your perfect pussy. He groaned, leaning toward you as you lifted your head uselessly, wanting him closer. He attached his lips to your neck and breathed in your arousal, so sweet just for him. Fuck, you were so wet, dripping onto his cock and your nest, just for him. He gripped your waist as he nibbled at your scent gland, wanting so fucking bad to bite it and claim you for himself. Your perfect moans and sighs filled his ear with pure ecstasy as his jaw trembled against your skin.

But he needed to prove himself first. He would make you cum first, that’s right. Then you would know who you belonged to. Only he could take care of you. He would make you feel so fucking good. Have you creaming just like this, then on his cock, then fucking begging for his knot. For his cum. He panted against your skin, licking a long stripe from your gland to your jaw as his eyes grew blurry with a thick, drunk haze.

Then his arms were grabbed, and he was dragged away from you. He growled, thrashing against the hands that kept him from you until he smelled the familiar scent of his hyung. He whimpered in confusion as he was taken from the room and shoved away from your sight and scent.

He bared his teeth as he glared at the door that separated him from you. Seonghwa cupped both of his cheeks and forced the alpha to look at him.

“Jongho, no!” he shouted sternly. The alpha froze as he met his hyung’s eyes. He slowly covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide and fearful.

“I didn’t,” he whimpered, hot tears flooding his eyes. “Hyung, I tried not to. I r-remembered what you said. I tried not to, but-” As tears poured down his cheeks, Seonghwa wiped them away one by one, keeping the alpha close against him as he pleaded with him not to be angry. It was always like this, and it shattered Seonghwa’s heart to see their baby struggle so much. It wasn’t his fault. Not at all. Not a single bit, and yet Jongho would always blame and hate himself for it all.

“You did good, baby,” Seonghwa cooed, moving his disheveled hair from his forehead with extra, gentle care of the alpha’s burning skin. “Omegas… They don’t do that when they’re feral,” he whispered, smiling and nodding when he glanced up at him. “So, it was an accident,” he took a small breath, “but I’m sure you helped her.”

“I helped her?” he mumbled, leaning into his hyung’s hand that cupped his puffy cheek. “Will she be okay?”

He nodded without hesitation. “So, why don’t we go see Joongie, and we can all go home?” he suggested, taking the alpha’s hand and rubbing his thumb against his gently.

“Is he mad?” he asked as they walked down the hall.

“Not at all,” he lied. “He’s just here to drive us home.”

The walk was silent, but Seonghwa watched as Jongho bit his lip and thought hard to himself. He waited patiently for the alpha to speak his mind, as it always took him a while to find the courage. “Will Pretty come with us too?” he asked suddenly.

Seonghwa didn’t answer for a long while. Of course, how could he just say no? “We’ll have to ask Hongjoong.” He couldn’t.

Wooyoung watched as you scratched at the door, sobbing for your alpha to come back. He was a little heartbroken. What had Jongho told you? You hated him now. I mean, he did deceive you, but so did Jongho. It wasn’t fair. He wanted you to like him again. To be your omega again, but you were so distressed about Jongho.

“Pretty,” he called out softly. You turned and glared at him.

“Don’t call me that,” you said, crossing your arms. “Only my alpha can call me that,” you huffed.

“Oh,” he scoffed, “is he yours? He was mine first, though.” He stuck his tongue out. He was done being nice if you were going to give this kind of attitude.

“He likes me more anyway,” you said, laughing as he frowned. “He couldn’t take his hands off me,” you bragged.

“Look at you,” he scoffed. “Are you even sick anymore? You look perfectly fine.”

It was true, except for your possessive instincts bringing about this cat fight. You were coherent and had a productive conversation. You were really gaining more control over your actions, and Wooyoung was so happy. He didn’t even care if you were acting like a brat. At least you were getting better.

“Will you bring him back?” you grumbled, sitting defeated against the wall. “They dragged him away like he was hurting me. I promise he wasn’t. We were just having fun.”

Wooyoung chuckled. “That’s the problem, Pretty.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“She refuses to eat or leave her nest at all,” the nurse said with a sigh.

Wooyoung bit his lip, watching a similar situation unfold in their living room. Jongho was laying on the couch, his hair ungroomed and clothes unchanged just so he could get a glimpse of the scent he was taken away from. Seonghwa nudged him gently, asking him to come eat something, but the alpha barely acknowledged him.

“We fear-”

“We’ll bring her home.” Hongjoong looked purely professional rather than seething as he often did those days. He looked calm and smelled neutral.

Wooyoung shot his eyes to Jongho, but the poor baby didn’t hear. He excitedly hopped over to the couch, but his collar was grabbed, and he was pulled back into Hongjoong.

“Let’s go.”

“We have almost no information about the patient,” the nurse said, flipping through the pages on her clipboard. “The first record of her existence is November 17th when she was admitted to the hospital.” She glanced at Hongjoong, the alpha smelling like pure disgust as he listened intently to her every word. “We don’t know why she went feral, but we’ve come to know her quite a bit in the past few months.” She smiled then, her eyes squinting in reassurance.

Wooyoung nodded silently.

“As I’d said on the phone, she’s in a depressed state due to being away from her… mate. This behavior isn’t uncommon, it’s just… she’s practically healthy.”

“What?” Wooyoung gasped, looking from the nurse to Hongjoong in sudden excitement.

“We’ve been monitoring her since her visit with Mr. Choi, and it has helped her significantly. She can form complex thoughts and sentences. She can communicate with others without relying purely on instinct. It’s just this one aspect that has her clinging to this thin string of omega control. She’s completely reliant on her mate, and we… to be frank, we’re unsure of what to do, as Mr. Choi… is not her mate.”

Hongjoong nodded, biting his lip in slight frustration.

“We will allow her to go home with you, but there are a few things you should be aware of.”

Hongjoong knew little to nothing about ferality. He knew the basics that were taught in school, but he’d never needed to know much more than that. Wooyoung, however, had made himself an expert throughout his life, as he’d donated regularly to foundations such as these. He knew what they would need to do, but he would let the nurse lay it all on his hyung.

The nurse took a deep breath. “Once the patient is completely of sound mind, she will immediately enter pre-heat. It will last two days at most before she will have to endure an unsuppressed heat.” She gazed sympathetically at the alpha. “Number two… I understand you and your pack have extremely demanding and busy schedules. The patient, as she isn’t exactly thinking clearly, won’t understand the concept of leaving and returning. Each time you leave, she’ll think you’re gone forever. Each time you come back, she’ll think you’ll stay forever. She can be… for lack of a better term… trained, but it’s unlikely her ferality will last that long.” She cleared her throat. “Lastly, the patient will remember everything when she returns to the surface. Her omega is in control right now, but she is witnessing everything. Please keep that in mind. She may be distressed or embarrassed once everything is over. You’ll want to ease her mind. Comfort her.”

Hongjoong nodded, taking a long, tired breath. “What about my pack?” he asked, knowing the answer wouldn’t be anything he liked. “There’s eight of us. Four alphas, one being me, three omegas, one being Wooyoung, and one beta. She won’t like that, will she?”

She chuckled. “Definitely not.” His lips fell into a thin line. “Mr. Choi and Mr. Jung have similar scents. That’s how this situation came about?” she asked, leaning in slightly with an intrigued look.

Wooyoung nodded.

She hummed, thinking to herself. “You all live together?” They nodded again. “This is tough…” she mumbled. “She’s recovering nicely. We were watching the cameras closely, and she totally almost bit him.” She closed her mouth for a moment, watching as both of them raised their brows in shock. She cleared her throat, speaking before they could say anything rash. “But she didn’t. I mean, we wouldn’t have let her bite him, of course, but she stopped herself. She’s getting there, which is why we’re considering the possibility of moving her out at all. She might have the urge to attack your packmates, but I don’t think she will. It’s an issue that it’s a possibility at all, though. It would distress her and could harm the progress. However, it could also develop her control over her instincts, making her a bit more immune to ferality and its control over her mind and body.” She groaned. “It’s all very two-sided.”

“So, what do you recommend?” Hongjoong asked, trying to piece together everything she was saying.

“I…” She scrunched her face and slowly swayed her head from side to side. “I recommend that Mr. Choi and Mr. Jung share a room and-”

Hongjoong put his hand up, his lips pressed tightly together in a moment of silence. “You want the omega to share a living space with our baby alpha?” he asked in disbelief.

The nurse glanced at Wooyoung, not exactly expecting those words. “Yes.”

“That won’t do,” he sighed before leaning closer to the nurse. “Did you see them earlier?” he whispered.

“Mr. Kim. What happened earlier was actually very significant to her recovery. Feral omegas don’t participate in sexual activities.” He scoffed. “Please understand. If the two are close together, she’ll recover very quickly. That is certain.”

He chewed lightly on his lip before he sat back in his chair and motioned for her to continue off where she’d left before he interrupted.

She cleared her throat. “After a few days, she’ll be used to the new environment. Introduce her very slowly to the other pack members. Start with the omegas. Then the betas. Then, with extreme, and I mean EXTREME, caution, the alphas.” She sighed, nodding as she thought over the plan a few times.

They nodded, feeling somewhat content with that answer. He could do that. Wooyoung and Jongho could fix their schedules and help you at every hour. They could do it.

“I just have one more question,” Hongjoong said, glancing at Wooyoung hesitantly, then back at the nurse. “It’s been months since she was first admitted, but she hasn’t had a heat. What does that… Does she get heats… while like that?”

The nurse shook her head. “The pheromones build and build within until she regains full control over her body. Mm… I think it would be best to admit her to a heat sanctuary, as it will be very strong. Unless you have a proper conversation with the patient before her heat, admit her. If she tells you otherwise with a completely sound mind, then do as she wishes. It’ll be a frightening experience, so please help her with her requests. Also, during her stay, she has been on pheromone medication, which helps reorganize her pheromones but prevent her from getting pregnant. I assure you that condoms won’t be necessary in the event of a heat.”

“Oh.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The alphas were a little unhappy to be kicked out of the dorm for the omega guest, as they’d be away from their pack for a while. The omegas and beta of the pack would be allowed to stay, though there were boundaries put into place. Jongho and Wooyoung would share their room and live with you until you recovered.

“Come on, Prettyyy,” Wooyoung whined, tugging at the determined omega’s arm. “We have to go hooome.”

You shook your head. “I won’t go home with you. Bring me my alpha,” you demanded.

“He’s at home!” he huffed. “We have to go there so you can see him!”

You tilted your head. “I can see him if I go there?” you mumbled.

You sat in the front seat beside him, which he knew was probably a bad idea. Though the back seat might have been worse.

You fidgeted with the buttons, pressing each one in wonder as he swatted your hand away.

You woke up snuggled delicately in fluffy, blissfully scented blankets. You didn’t feel the need to stir or panic. You were floating with your head light and limbs melted nicely into the fluff. When you felt a shift in the blankets, you were snatched from your dreamy state, and you shot up, panting as you looked to your right.

Your omega was stretched out on the other side of the bed, wrapped up in the arms of the similar scented alpha. His head was buried in his warm chest, and his hands were stuffed underneath the alpha’s shirt for the warmth of his bare skin. They snuggled close and shivered every few seconds, though they were definitely asleep.

You pouted as you pulled at your omega’s arm, peaking over him at your sleepy alpha. His lips puffed out as he squished his cheek into the soft pillow. You pulled the brat away from him without stirring any of them awake. Then, you slid over your omega to slot yourself into the puddle of sleepy warmth between them. You sighed, enveloped in their scents, as you pushed your body against the alpha. You were sandwiched tightly yet comfortably between them, and you let yourself fall limp as they squirmed gently to mold into you. You buried your nose in your alpha’s neck, purring softly. Only here could your mind clear even slightly. Your omega was constantly demanding control, but here… Here she was softly at bay.

“Pretty,” your alpha groaned softly into your ear. You slowly opened your eyes with a happy curve to your lips as you woke up. “Keep your hands to yourself, okay?” he mumbled, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrists and pressing your hands down to your legs.

“I’m sorry, alpha,” you quietly said, wondering what you did to make him uncomfortable.

His lips pressed together as he brought one of his hands away from your wrist to push back a few loose strands of your soft hair from your eyes. You closed your eyes and leaned into the subtle touch. He was such a perfect alpha, taking care of you when he didn’t have to.

Then you did the same for him, glazing your fingertips over his forehead. You rested your hand on the side of his neck, your fingers rubbing gently over the hair behind his ear. He let you stay there, melting into his pillow at the delicate touch, but when you fingers lowered and grazed over the edge of his scent gland, you felt something on his skin there. He flinched, and he grabbed your wrist and pulled it away, breaking his eyes away from yours.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” he reminded, slowly pushing your hand to the bed.

You frowned, pushing your body a bit further into his sleepy warmth. “You don’t like it when I touch you?” you whimpered, and your mind went from one thought to another in a growing worry. “You don’t like me anymore? Alpha hates me?”

He shook his head hurriedly. “No, Pretty, that’s not it,” he whispered. He brought his face closer until it was just an inch or two away from yours. “We’ll get in trouble. Wooyoung will yell at us.��

“Who is that,” you grumbled, scowling at the stupid reason you couldn’t be close to your alpha. You knew it was your omega speaking these harsh thoughts, but you kind of agreed. He said he was yours. You were meant for each other. You wanted to have him for yourself. You wanted to smell him. Touch him. Kiss him. Who the fuck could keep him from you.

You kissed him. It was a little peck, but his eyes went wide in a panicked shock. He clasped his hand over his mouth as he shook his head.

“Pretty, we can’t!” he whispered, backing away but freezing when he felt the slight graze of your hand over his crotch. He seemed to stop breathing as his hips twitched forward just slightly. “Omega,” he warned, his teeth grinding together and his eyes fluttering slightly.

“No one will find out, alpha,” you whispered, ignoring the snoring body resting against your back, “as long as we’re quiet.”

You pressed your hand firmly against the growing bulge in his pants. His brows knitted together as he bit his lip, looking down at your hand. His hips pushed forward with a soft gasp.

He was so aroused, clearly fighting to keep composure as he bit his lip with a trembling jaw. He didn’t smell like it, though. His scent was still neutral, soft and nice. You sniffed, but you couldn’t smell those addictive pheromones you’d smelled at the facility.

“Alpha,” you mumbled. “Wanna smell you.”

He shook his head with a shaky exhale. “Wooyoung will find out.”

You moved your hand from his pants and reached behind his neck. He gasped, going to grab your wrist, but it was too late. You slid your hand to his scent gland and felt the odd thing sticking to his skin. You lifted one of its edges and stripped it away from him. Your pupils were blown in an instant as his raw, delicious pheromones hit your nose.

You whined, long and desperate, feeling drunk and needy from just a single breath in the new air. He cupped his hand over your mouth, leaning his forehead against yours as he took slow, deep breaths.

“Why don’t you listen?” he said softly. You heard the quiet, stuttering growls sizzling in his throat as he tried to resist his instincts. His hand on your cheek grew a little heavier as he pushed against your head. He stroked your hair in heavy, slow lines of frustration. “You smell so good,” he mumbled, his voice a low rumble.

His hand lifted from your head and found your chin, gently raising it so that your head aligned with his. He didn’t kiss you. He just gazed into your eyes as you whined quietly for him. He frowned mockingly.

“Does my omega want a kiss?” he cooed.

“Yes-” You gasped as his grip on your chin tightened.

“Only good girls get kisses,” he growled, licking a slow stripe across his top teeth as he watched your eyes widen in distress. “Good girls listen.”

Your lip trembled as his hand left your chin and traveled down, down, leaving a trail of feather-light touches along your body. Your alpha was angry. You made him mad. You deserved to be punished.

“Be quiet, okay?” he whispered, smiling sweetly.

His fingers slid underneath your shorts, and your core throbbed in anticipation with each inch of movement. When the tips of his fingers grazed your soaking slit, he whimpered softly. You pushed your hips against his fingers as they lowered into your thick slick. His gaze was low to the blanket covering you, his brows knitted as he longed to see the perfect mess he’d found between your legs.

“Pretty, is this for me?” he purred, subconsciously grinding his hips into the bed as he pushed his nose against yours.

“Just for you,” you hummed, happy that he liked it.

He pushed his middle finger through your folds and nudged your tight hole before hesitantly sliding it inside. You let out a happy moan before he covered your mouth with his hand again. He focused on the warm, thick feeling of your pussy as he pushed his finger all the way in, curling it into your walls.

You ground your clit against his palm as your eyes rolled back in a newfound pleasure. You’d never felt something inside you like that. It was foreign but so perfect, sending little jolts of soft pleasure throughout your body with each slow thrust and curve of his finger. You gazed into his eyes, your vision hazy as you breathed in his thickening arousal.

You set a pace, grinding your hips softly against him as he rubbed your soaked walls. You whimpered, your lips pressed against his hand. His chest vibrated softly but gained intensity every few seconds. He growled as he pushed a second finger in. Your eyes squeezed shut for a moment as you let out a shaky breath.

“Alpha,” you whimpered. His eyes shot to yours in warning. You lowered your voice to a whisper. “It feels so good. I don’t know what to do,” you panted, pushing your hips hard against his palm with a choked gasp as he pushed his two fingers deep inside. “It feels so good, but it’s not enough.”

You pressed your hand against his bare stomach and slid it down beneath the elastic of his pants. He faltered in his movements and let you take his cock in your hand. He breathed warm and slow against your face, his pheromones struggling to suppress themselves in their instinct to dominate you. You stroked it once, and his fingers left your hole as he became vulnerable to the sudden pleasure. His head fell limp against the pillow with a soft whimper escaping his parted lips. His hand left your mouth and rested on the bed. You stroked it again, your thumb swiping lightly across the head to find it wet.

“Is this for me?” you purred, delighting in the flushed nod he could barely give. He was so wet, just like you, practically drooling for you. “Does it feel good for alpha, too?” you whispered, gazing dazedly at his drunken, hazy expression as you set a slow, light pace in your strokes.

“Pretty, I wanna feel you,” he mumbled. “Please, please let me.” He pressed his lips together tightly, pleading with his eyes as you stopped your movement. When you didn’t answer, mesmerized by his gaze, he let out a small growl. “Come on, Pretty. It’ll feel so good. I’ll fuck you so good, Pretty, I promise.” He pouted a little, but his lips quickly twitched into a slight scowl. He raised his voice a little. The vibrations of his chest increased as his voice lowered and his words sharpened. “You’re so tight… I just need to ram into you until I’ve loosened you up. Until your pussy is shaped like my dick,” he growled. “But I promise I won’t cum until you tell me to,” he mumbled, his eyes flickering from desperation and demand. “Once you’re begging for my knot- fuck~ We’ll cum so hard, Pretty. I’ll fill you with my cum until you’re dripping in my scent. Fuck~ everyone will know you’re mine. You’ll be so full, Pretty.”

You were slicking harder with each thought, drooling as you patiently waited to let him ravage you completely. With a simple nod, he grabbed your hips and shot to his natural spot between your legs. He was panting, drops of sweat streaming from his forehead to his lips, then onto your bare stomach.

He was frozen, though. He didn’t move.

“You’re such a bad boy.”

Your head shot to your right, your eyes growing wide as you came face to face with a very conscious, blushing omega. Your alpha flinched at the words, his hands quickly leaving their sensual places on your body and falling to his sides.

“Hy-hyung…” he mumbled, lips trembling as his pupils contracted from their blown state. He stared in horror at the disappointed expression on your omega’s face. “I was- was-”

“Pretty,” he said softly, turning his relaxed head toward the aroused omega beside him. “Alpha was being bad, wasn’t he?” he asked. You shook your head quickly, but he nodded with puckered lips. “He isn’t supposed to touch you, but he did anyway, huh?” You glanced at your horrified alpha. His lip trembled as he mumbled apologies. “Bad alphas need to be punished. Right?”

“Please punish me, Hyung!” Your alpha said, his eyes squinting as he tried to hold in his frustrated tears. “I’ll do anything! I should’ve listened! I’m so sorry!”

The omega chuckled. “Get off the bed, Jongho,” he demanded. “You know what to do.”

You frowned in confusion as your alpha’s warmth left you and he stood in front of the bed. He immediately stripped. His sweatpants and shirt fell to the floor. Your pupils dilated at the perfect sight of your bare alpha. You climbed to the edge of the bed, gazing in awe at his big, painfully hard cock. His smooth stomach and fucking perfect thighs. Your alpha was so fucking hot.

“Come here, pretty,” Wooyoung gently called. You let out a curious little noise as you crawled toward him, dragging your eyes away from your alpha’s body. Your omega patted the spot between his legs with a welcoming smile. You plopped down there, your back to his chest, and he immediately buried his nose in your neck, purring like a happy omega. You brought your hands above your head and intertwined your fingers through his fluffy hair, bringing his lips to your skin with a soft sigh from both of you.

“Hyung,” your alpha whimpered, drawing both of your content attention back to him. “You said not to touch her.”

“I’m not touching her, baby bear,” he cooed. “She’s touching me.” He leaned his chin against her shoulder, smiling slyly at the alpha. “Now, Pretty,” he whispered. You leaned your head back against his chest with a sigh. “Jongie needs to be punished. Will you help me?”

“Yes,” you mumbled, enjoying your view thoroughly.

He softly touched your hips, pulling lightly at your shorts. “Let’s take these off then,” he whispered.

You felt so exposed and bare for your alpha, your legs wide and resting over your omega’s legs. Your shirt clumped at your hips as the cool air hit your soaked core. You rested nicely against your omega as his pretty hands did all of the work. Alpha was focused intently on your dripping cunt, cock throbbing and twitching as Wooyoung’s fingers caressed the dip between your thighs and pretty lips. Jongho’s hands were balled into painfully tight fists at his sides as he panted with each anticipating twitch of your fluttering pussy.

“Isn’t she so pretty?” Wooyoung cooed, gaining a hurried nod from the alpha. “Did you touch her down here already? She must’ve liked it a lot, huh?” He finally let his finger dip into the puddle of slick between your pussy lips and groaned. “I mean, look at this mess.”

Jongho nodded again, his head trembling as he took slow breaths.

“You said you wouldn’t cum until she said so, right, Jongie?” Wooyoung said, giggling when the alpha’s eyes grew a little wide in guilt. “I know you won’t be able to hold it in,” he sighed. “So you can’t touch yourself. Absolutely not. You can only watch. If you can do that, we’ll let you cum, okay?”

Jongho looked devastated, but he nodded, gritting his teeth. “Yes, Hyung.”

Wooyoung smirked. “Good boy.” Wooyoung pressed his lips to your ear and hummed quietly. “Pretty,” he whispered, quiet enough for just you to hear. “You’re okay if I touch you, right?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “I-I can think clearly right now, so don’t worry about me. I w-want it,” you whimpered, blushing lightly as he planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

Wooyoung’s veiny hand flexed as he plunged two of his fingers as deep into your throbbing hole. You squeeked, your back arching as his fingertips rammed into your walls all so suddenly. He hit such a fucking good spot as he thrust in and out. You bit your lip hard as your eyes rolled and your moans and whimpers echoed throughout the room. You panted, forcing your eyes to watch his fingers work you open, squelching as he spread your slick all over your walls and pussy, dripping onto the white sheets. Then you lazily brought your trembling eyes to Jongho, a shaking, hard mess in front of you. His eyes were glued to your pussy, his cock twitching with each sob you moaned.

“Woo-Wooyoung?” you mumbled, your voice light and unsure. He hummed against your skin, his hot breath fanning over your bare neck. “Can- can you slow down, please?” His fingers immediately slowed, and he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, still stroking your insides gently. His other hand caressed your thigh soothingly as he purred against your back.

“What’s wrong, Pretty? Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

“N-no,” you mumbled, “I’m gonna cum soon. Don’t wanna yet…”

“Oh “ he cooed, leaning his cheek against yours as he looked up at Jongho. “Did you hear that, alpha? She’s gonna cum soon.”

Jongho groaned, his nails scratching lightly at his thighs as he made eye contact with you for the first time in a while.

Wooyoung attached his thumb to your sensitive clit, and you gasped, reaching for his hand to stop him as he rolled the bud delicately. You moaned as the fucking best sensation overrode your senses. He plunged his fingers back inside and set a harsh pace against your gushy g-spot. You clenched your teeth, inhaling sharply with each thrust.

“She’s gonna make a mess when she cums, right, Jongie?”

Jongho nodded, immediately seeing where the omega was going with it.

“Come on, alpha,” he growled. “Get on your knees.”

Jongho dropped to his knees. His eyes aligned with your glistening pussy, and he whimpered at the pulsing sight of Wooyoung ravaging your hole with his fingers.

“Woo- Stop.. mmm~ hh-! Please… ngh… I’m gonna-!”

You begged, tears falling from each eye, because there was no way you were supposed to feel so good. You’d never felt so good. The pleasure kept building as he repeatedly pounded his fingers at the perfect spot, rubbing at your clit and kissing your neck. You began to tremble, your entire body shaking as the pressure collapsed and your orgasm took over. Your mouth hung as you let out urgent moans of pure ecstacy. It was so fucking good that your eyes rolled back and stayed there until your vision was pure white and static. Wooyoung rode you through your high, slowing his pace until you were limp, quiet, and trembling in his arms.

“Such a good girl,” Wooyoung whispered, wiping your tears with his clean hand with gentle little swipes. “You felt so good, huh?” You nodded, slowly opening your eyes as you tried to catch your breath.

You glanced down at Jongho, his eyes glued to your pussy as he licked his lips in anticipation.

“Alpha’s gonna clean us up, okay?” he said, his fingers motioning Jongho to join you on the bed.

The alpha crawled up to you, his eyes hardly moving from his target. Once he was close enough, Wooyoung pressed his wet fingers to Jongho’s lips. They parted easily, the alpha’s eyes rolling back at the remnants of your arousal. He sucked on Wooyoung’s digits with quiet little groans as the omega praised him for his reactions.

“Come on, Jongie,” Wooyoung said, popping his fingers from his lips. “Your omega is still so messy.”

Jongho dipped his head between your thighs. His messy hair tickled your stomach as he breathed in your raw scent. His warm breath fanned over your cold skin, but he didn’t stay there for long. He quickly started to lap at your cunt, and you tensed at the overstimulation. He was gentle yet eager as he licked a thick strip from your abused and needy hole to your quivering clit. You hissed lightly at the slight pain in the gentle pleasure, but the sight of his gaze fixed on yours made your arousal spike from its sedated state. He swallowed your slick, kissing and sucking at your clit and lips.

You were panting, pushing your hips toward his beautiful face as you chased your second orgasm. You didn’t want it like this, though. Your need for release was much deeper than the surface of your pussy. You needed to be pleasured much deeper.

“Woo-Wooyoung,” you mumbled, your hips grinding against him as his tongue slipped into your soaked hole. “F-fuck me,” you whimpered. “Pleeaase, please fuck me, shit- ngh~!” Wooyoung giggled against your cheek, his arms wrapping tightly around you, positioned just below your breasts.

“What about Jongho? He’s been so good. You don’t wanna reward him?” he teased, his fingers patting your sides lightly. “You don’t want his knot?” Wooyoung hadn’t really meant to say it. He was so fucked out just from watching everything go down. He had said it, though.

Jongho’s head shot up, his eyes wide and pupils blown. His lips were swollen, and his chin was shining with your slick. He licked his lips as he stared eagerly at your dazed expression.

“His knot?”

You’d never taken an alpha’s knot before. You’d only ever been used by another omega for their pleasure. An alpha… pleasuring you? Knotting you?

“Do you wanna knot me, Jongho?” you asked quietly. He nodded immediately, scooting just a bit closer.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened in confusion. “Are you up for it, Jongie?” He didn’t look uncertain at all, and it worried Wooyoung more than it would’ve if he’d been cautious about his answer. Jongho had never knotted anyone. He was always too scared that it would hurt like it did during his rut.

“Wooyoung,” he whimpered, his lips quivering into a frown. “I wanna make her feel good. Will she feel good i-if I give her my knot?”

“Oh, baby,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching out and cupping the alpha’s cheek lovingly. “Come here.”

Jongho came closer, his knees spreading to rest under your and Wooyoung’s legs. You watched in awe as Wooyoung pressed a soft kiss to Jongho’s lips before he took his leaking cock in his delicate fingers.

“It’ll feel so good,” Wooyoung said, smiling sweetly as he lined Jongho’s cock to your entrance.

You felt the tip nudge at your hole, and you gasped. It was big in your hands, but next to your core, you could really tell just how big he was. He could definitely reach that aching spot deep in your arousal.

Jongho took slow breaths as Wooyoung urged him to push inside. He bit his lip, his eyes squeezing shut as he popped the tip inside. You whimpered, the feeling of being stretched that wide so unfamiliar but so nice. Jongho hung his head as the pleasure of the slow push inside overtook all of his senses. Your quiet squeaks and moans that grew the deeper he went, your tight walls sucking him in, the scent of your slick and arousal filling the air. When he was completely inside, he had to stop and stare at the connections between you. He was inside of someone. He was inside of you. It felt so fucking good. He knew if he moved, he’d cum right away.

Your lips were parted as you took slow, deep breaths. You were so full. Jongho stayed there as he tried to gather himself, and all you could think of was how much you wanted him to move and hit that deep spot with each thrust.

His hands were gripping the sheets at his sides, his eyes flickering from place to place along your body. He was trembling as he tried to restrain himself from rutting against you.

“Alpha,” you whimpered, reaching out your arms for him to come closer. He was hesitant to lean in, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his face to your scent gland with a trembling breath. “You can touch me,” you mumbled. “Please touch me.”

He slowly moved his hands from his sides to your hips and squeezed them gently. He kissed your neck lightly and breathed there in your aroused scent as he shifted his hips impatiently.

Wooyoung threaded a hand through the alpha’s hair lovingly. “Come on, baby. Make her feel good.”

Jongho pulled his hips away just slightly, trembling at the tight restraints around his cock. Then, he pushed it back in with a short growl. He was quick to pull out and thrust in again, growling again as he pressed his teeth softly to your neck.

“Ngh~! J-Jongho~” you moaned, holding him to you much tighter as he rutted his hips against yours, gasps and stuttered deep growls falling from his lips. He grazed his teeth along your neck, licking and mumbling nonsense against your skin. Your moans came in quick spurts with each thrust against your cervix.

“Mine…ghh…” he growled against your neck. “Gonna take my knot like a good girl?” he asked, licking a thick strip up to your jaw and smiling against your ear. “You keep squeezing me like you want me to cum inside. Want my cum, Pretty?”

He purred as he felt you tense at his words. He slammed his hips against yours, the pleasure shooting in strong waves throughout your body. Your eyes rolled back as he kept this new pace with firm thrusts and needy grunts.

“Good girl,” he purred. “Fuck~ You’re such a good omega, Pretty,” he praised, whining softly against your skin as he buried his head in your shoulder. “So good~ So nghh good…”

He kissed your scent gland softly before opening his mouth wide, his eyes rolling back as your pussy tightened in its chase for its second orgasm. Wooyoung placed a quick hand over your gland before Jongho latched his teeth to the skin. He bit the omega’s hand with a disappointed whine.

Even so, the alpha’s knot grew steadily. Both of you were panting as he sat up and grabbed your hips. He pulled them down against his thrusts at a quick, desperate pace. Your tearful eyes spilled over as you watched him growl and whimper at your squelching, overflowing pussy. He watched himself disappear with each pleasured thrust.

“Knot~” you cried. “Want it nghh~ Knot me pleeaase.” You were begging, your jaw dropped as your orgasm built closer, nearly there.

His bulge was growing, stretching your entrance more each thrust. He hit his lip, a single tear slipping as he moaned until his knot finally slipped inside.

You screamed, your head pushing against Wooyoung’s shoulder as your orgasm washed through your entire body. Jongho filled you with his warm cum with a long, dazed moan. You both were sobbing in pure ecstasy as pleasure took over every single thought, muscle, and sense.

Everything slowed down, and your ears could finally hear again. You heard heavy breaths and fast heartbeats. You saw Jongho’s hooded eyes as he looked over your fucked out body and expression. He was flushed and sweaty, his hair messy, damp, and curled in front of his eyes.

Your tear stained cheeks were kissed by a panting Jongho as he leaned over you. He pressed soft kisses all over your sweaty face and neck. He purred, his chest pressed to yours in a loose, tired hug.

You felt so full, but in an instinctually content way. This was how you were meant to be. Your alpha covered you in gentle warmth, his seed deep inside, his cock plugging the hole that belonged to him. It made you so sleepy. Safe and sleepy.

“You did so good, Jongie,” Wooyoung purred. “It felt good, didn’t it?”

Jongho hummed, his voice low and rough from his performance a few seconds before. “So good,” he mumbled, grinding his hips lightly against yours. You both groaned at the feeling, a spike of soft pleasure alarming your quieted arousal.

“Stay still, alpha,” Wooyoung said, stroking his hair gently. “Wait for it to go down.”

He nodded, raising his head and sitting up a bit. It disturbed the stillness of your position and brought another soft moan to your lips. Jongho frowned. Once he was completely sitting up, he looked down at where you were connected and took a deep breath.

“What’s wrong, Jongie?” Wooyoung asked, but he was quickly answered by the spike of aroused pheromones from the alpha.

Jongho looked up with a trembling lip and tears in his eyes. “Feels so good,” he mumbled. “I want more.” He sniffed. “But I can’t, right?”

Wooyoung frowned sympathetically. He knew you probably couldn’t take an entire new round. Jongho was rough, and you were inexperienced to the exhaustion that came with an alpha’s knot. Your eyes were hardly open, your head limp against his shoulder. You were too fucked out, too out of it to even register the conversation.

His knot still locked you together, so Wooyoung was careful when laying you softly on the mattress, your head on the pillow so you could comfortably drift off to sleep.

Jongho was completely hard again, panting and flushed as he forced himself to stay still. Wooyoung knelt beside him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Our baby alpha’s so knot drunk, huh?” he teased, watching as Jongho nodded, probably not even understanding a word the omega was saying. He just wanted to feel good again. “It’s alright, baby,” he cooed. “I’ll let you fuck me, okay?”

Jongho didn’t answer. His eyes went wide, and his need to rut was getting fucking . Wooyoung stripped, his cock so fucking hard and slick streaming down his thighs from having to watch everyone else feel good without him.

As soon as Jongho’s knot went down, he slid out of you slowly and patiently. Then he immediately pinned Wooyoung to the bed, growling eagerly as he thrusted his cock into the omega’s waiting pussy. He let out a vocal, satisfied sigh as he stroked the omega’s walls with his thick, needy cock. The omega purred, moaning happily as Jongho set an uncontrolled pace. His hyung could take it. He folded Wooyoung’s knees over his arms and rammed into his hole, watching his cock bounce uselessly on his stomach.

Wooyoung’s eyes rolled back, drool slipping down his cheek as he let the alpha take him raw and hard. It was so rewarding after practically begging the man to fuck him for months. Jongho’s breath hitched as he quickly began to lose himself again. Wooyoung was so perfect for his huge cock. He took him so well, his hold meant for this rough treatment. Fuck, he would do this every day. He would make his hyung feel good if it meant he could feel like this.

“H-hyung!” he moaned, folding over and smashing his lips to Wooyoung’s. “Hyung!” he cried against his lips, rutting into the omega without even pulling out properly. He was so desperate to cum again, to fill his hyung and be a good boy. His knot was growing, and his thrusts became harsher as he forced his bulging cock in and out.

“Fuck! Jongho!” Wooyoung screamed as the alpha bruised his g-spot with each ravaging ram of his hips. “Fuck, what a good boy ngh~! So good! Shit, baby, keep going… knot me, Jongie mm~!”

“Hyung, I’m gonna-!” Wooyoung smashed their lips together, his tongue lapping against his, tasting him and swallowing his moans as he pushed his knot inside.

Jongo came with muffled cries of pure pleasure as he painted Wooyoung’s walls white. Wooyoung pushed his hips up with a gasp as he left Jongho’s lips and dropped his jaw, rolling his eyes to squeeze them shut. Ropes of cum shot from his untouched cock, covering his chest and dripping from his chin. Wooyoung panted heavily as spurts of cum dripped from his cock for second after second. He could hardly calm down, even when his high had passed. He trembled and whimpered quietly, his cock falling limp on his stomach.

“You two are so beautiful,” Jongho said, gazing in awe at his two dazed, flushed omegas. Your eyes were hardly open, but you managed to smile at him, a small blush returning to your cheeks. Wooyoung was too stuck in his thoughts to hear the alpha at all.

“Hyung?” Jongho mumbled, a little worried he'd overdone it.

“Jongho,” he started, his voice dead serious. Jongho swallowed hard. Had he not done a good job after all? “How… did you make me cum that much… completely untouched?”

“What?”

“Not even an orgasm. You made me cum. A lot.” His eyes were wide and confused.

“Um…”

Wooyoung sat up quickly and pushed Jongho onto his back, following him with his hips to keep them connected.

“Do it again.”

“What?!”

The door slammed against the wall, and an angry beta stormed into the room. “Ya!”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I’m seriously fine,” you insisted.

You smiled awkwardly at the beta, San, who was constantly trying to peel Jongho from you. The alpha was attached to you, his arms wrapped around your torso as he buried his nose in the nape of your neck. He was sulking. He was upset that he’d been bad for his hyungs again and touched you, though it was 100% Wooyoung’s fault.

“Why don’t you ever hug me?” Wooyoung mumbled, glaring at the alpha as he silently sniffled into your scent.

“I’m sorry, for causing trouble,” you said, taking a deep breath as you were finally able to say what you’d been thinking the whole time. “Wooyoung, I can’t thank you enough for taking me in.” You were going to cry. “You really saved me. They would’ve…”

Jongho squeezed you tighter, almost protectively as he heard your words and smelled your souring scent. It calmed you quickly, and you took a shaky breath.

“I’ll repay your kindness, I promise. For now, I’ll stop causing you trouble and lea-”

“You can stay,” Wooyoung interrupted. “You can stay. If you want to. We want you to stay.”

Jongho nodded against your shoulder.

You stared at him in silence. Stay? You’d always been on the run. You’d never had a home because of your debt. You turned to San, who nodded casually.

“We want you to join our pack,” San explained. “But you should get to know us first. And… our situation is a bit unique. But we’d love to have you. After everything, you’re already family to Wooyoung and Jongho. So… you’re family to all of us.”

This man you’d just met was saying that. Even after all of the trouble you’d caused Jongho and Wooyoung, they still wanted you.

“You can think about-”

“I’ll stay,” you said, completely certain. Jongho purred against you, his lips forming a big smile. “I don’t think Jongho would let me leave anyway.”

a/n ~ Thank you so much for reading!! I hope the plot wasn't too bulky compared to the smut. I tried to find a balance. I really hope you liked it! Please let me know what you thought!!

mwa ᯓᡣ𐭩

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #omegaverse

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