After Tim and Bruce got back from the OBGYN check-up, Bruce had to leave Tim in the manor for... Business.
Tim, turning after he hears the door open: "Dick? I didn't know you'd be ho-!?"
Tim, doubling over: "What the fuck?!"
Dick, punching Tim in the stomach: "I can't believe that clone did this to you!"
Tim: "What-"
Dick, smothering Tim into a hug: "As your big bro, I can't just stand by and watch you throw away your life like this."
Dick, getting dramatic: "You're too young! You're too beautiful!"
Tim, confused and maybe a little concussed?: "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Dick, pointing at his stomach: "Baby."
Tim, scandalized: "I'm not pregnant!"
Dick: "Well not anymore!"
Tim, face palming: "I was never pregnant, Dick."
Dick, skeptical: "Are you su-!?"
Jason, walking in with a book, was clearly disturbed by the noises: "What the fuck are you all yelling about?"
Dick, gesturing to Tim: "Timmy got preg-"
Jason "hell nah" Todd: Uppercuts Tim's stomach
Jason "not on my watch" Todd: "I know we've had our differences, but as the only relatively sane person in this family, you cannot be doing this right now."
Jason: "Do you seriously think mo- Bruce is going to let you solve cases if you're rocking a fetus fanny pack?"
Tim "oh my fucking god" Drake-Wayne: "...are you done?"
Tim, sighing: "I'm. Not. Fucking. Pregnant!"
Tim: "It was a false alarm!"
Dick, sharpening his eskrima sticks laced with kryptonite: "Wait, really?"
Jason, loading up his kryptonite-infused bullet: "Huh."
This is actually not finished but i no longer have the juice to render it to what i wanted it to be… therefore im posting it instead. so have a mpreg jay ❤️
Reasons why I think it’s extra fun if the Batkids are majority alphas in an A/B/O AU
I think the whole “grow up to protect Bruce” mentality is just so interesting esp when applied to Dick.
Like as in: when I grow up imma be an alpha and protect Bruce so he doesn’t have to do “x” and then all those creeps who come up to him as Brucie I’ll finally be able to sock them in the face
It really pays homage to the hole “pay him back for all he’s done for me” thing the robins tend to have
And allows for a really nice dynamic to play out
It’s really nice when paired with Omega!Jason who perhaps as a kid wanted to be an alpha to specifically protect Bruce and this also allows Bruce to really see a reflection of himself in Jason after he gets revived and means a lot more angst in his behalf
It very much plays out similarly to the dynamic single mothers have with their children especially those who come from traumatic backgrounds. The whole she did so much and sacrificed so much for me even if she made mistakes I loved her, thing.
I very much think that’s the dynamic they have normally and an A/B/O Au with Omega!Bruce would allow for it to be portrayed very explicitly and easily.
Especially when paired with Bruce’s absolute lack of self preservation self worth and confidence. He sacrifices a lot and would likely inflict a lot of damage on himself in the name of his mission to protect others.
Which leads to a rather haunting respect, a rather similar thing felt my children to parents/mothers in an abusive home or single parent home
…lowkey a thought inspired by A coral room in the first of @frownyalfred’s series icl i love that heat scene w baby Jayson being all serious w Bruce just going 😩🥹 baby
Rehash. First, we gad Wally asking for Bruce to scent him and getting an aroma therapy wool ball in a bat plush. Dick finding it and starting a pup challenge. Getting back to the cave just to start another Pup Challenge.
And now Bruce? Has had enough. He's going to have a fucking heart attack if this continues and is already in a panic attack. Wtf are all of you doing? And Bruce scruffs Dick. His pup may be tall, but he's taller. A quick bark and growl has his other kids shocked. Enough so that they come partially out of their dazes. Ripping off his remaining scent patches and using his near rancid anger to non-verbally tell them all he's done with whatever is happening now.
His pup whimpered from the disappointed look he got.
"Dick, you are only excused because you are feral. But don't you DARE behave that way with your siblings. And you!" Turning towards his kids that were still stunned. "I want none of this nonsense going on. If you can't handle the pheromones, please go get your mini dose tranquilizer and do yourself a favor. I only scented Dick because I had no choice and would hate to have to take your choices from you."
(Accidentally making everything so much worse. Also, this is in fact megasweetbones. It's just another account.)
*so people don't think they missed a part, it's p3 (Last)
One growl cuts through all the others, and Dick finds his growl falter in his chest. Before he can even turn to Bruce, ask why Mama is growling, a hand closes over his nape, fingers curling in to squeeze, and he drops like a dead weight.
His legs give out from under him, his body goes lax, and he only does not hit the floor because Mama pulls him close, wrapping him in an embrace even if a hand stays curled over the back of his neck; even if his thumb continues to swipe back and forth with a gentle touch, Dick whines quietly, head lolled against Bruce's shoulder. What did he do? Why is Mama mad? He just wanted to protect Bruce from the imposters.
"All of you stop," Bruce snarls.
The omega command slices through the room, and the other rumbling growls short out too.
"This is unacceptable behaviour! None of you have ever acted remotely interested in being my pup, and I am not naïve enough to believe that suddenly all of you are willing to try and kill your siblings for it."
Dick looks at one of the imposters when he steps firward, expression twisted into something angry. Angry at Mama. How dare— Mama squeezes his neck again, and his anger melts away.
"He stole you from us."
"I am not a commodity, you stupid alpha," Bruce snaps, and the man shrinks back. "All of you, being led around by your instincts, making a fool of yourselves." Bruce's scent sours, like sour still water, and Dick whines in concern. "Making a fool of me. I am not stupid enough to believe whatever this act is, and I resent you believing that I am."
"You are ours."
Dick glares at the woman, wishes Bruce would release the scruff so he could lunge at the alpha growling at Mama.
Bruce sighs, and it sounds close to a sob. "This isn't going anywhere." In the following lull of such a defeated tone, he speaks again. "Alf."
It's a command, and is executed immediately.
The biggest alpha falls first, two darts sticking out of the side of his neck. The smaller one falls second, another two nestled in the tails of her bob, then Alfred steps around the corner, swapping out his mag, flooring the two betas, slipping another dart into the chamber and sending the pup to sleep too.
Five seconds of action is all it took.
Alfred slings his rifle back over his shoulder, and hooks his thumbs in the strap over his chest as he comes over to the two of them.
"Mr Jordan thought you might need some assistance. I came prepared."
"Thank you, Alfred." The butler reaches out, and the two of them brush wrists. "I didn't see that going anywhere productive."
"No," Alfred hums. "They did seem rather agitated. Except for young Master Dick, of course."
"He's had his own chance, believe me." Bruce adjusts his hold, finally releasing the scruff. "He tried to kill Wally. If Clark hadn't intervened he'd have torn his throat out."
"Good lord," the old man swears. "Will you be wanting this, then?" A smaller tranq gun is held up, and Dick whines again. No. No. He doesn't want that. He wanted to stay with Bruce.
"It's probably easier. I don't want to force him through this"—he gestures at himself, and Dick seethes—"when there's a better solution. He can sleep off being feral, and I could head out before he realises how I took advantage of him."
What? Who put these ideas in his head?
Alfred nods, something sad coming over him, and readies another tranq shot. Bruce smiles down at Dick, and pulls his head to the side to bear his neck, gentle fingers stroking his hair away from the area. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, lips pressed into his hairline. "I'm sorry I took away your choice." A whimper slips from him, Dick swears he feels a tear wet his head. "I'm sorry that I never would be your choice."
He stares at the ivory skin of Bruce's shoulder, the pieces falling into place, then there's two spikes of pain into his neck, and the pieces all fall apart again, as darkness consumes his vision.
summary: you had an incredible night with the men, and now it's time to meet their partners; or you go on individual dates with each duo
content: omegaverse, fingering, wally watches + masterbates, dick has huge cock, unprotected sex, dom!dick, switch!wally,
wc: 3.4k
18+ ONLY MDNI!!! | 18+ ONLY MDNI!!! | 18+ ONLY MDNI!!! | 18+ ONLY MDNI!!! |
spin off of: choice is yours. | part 1 (jason + roy) | part 3 (tim & conner)
It was a few days later when Wally called you to confirm if you’d be available for a night out. You’ve been craving one, told Wally as such, and Dick finally at last has an evening free.
You slip past the velvet rope into a higher-end club’s secluded VIP section. Low lighting casts iridescent glows across plush banquettes; the air is thick with champagne fizz and the tang of expensive cologne.
The instant Wally spots you, he launches from his seat, weaving through slender cocktail tables to pull you into a warm greeting. He steers you to the wide leather booth where Dick lounges, one arm draped over the backrest, the other clutching a crystal tumbler.
Dick’s gaze drifts over you like liquid fire; slow, deliberate, and most definitely appreciative. Yet he remains the consummate gentleman, lips curved in a quiet smile. He doesn’t breathe a word about the video, though you catch the gleam in his eyes and feel the faint brush of his gaze tracing your silhouette. At least, until he says:
“Must say,” he murmurs, voice husky, “it sounds even better hearing my name from your lips than through that screen.” He finishes with a lazy smirk, tipping his head just enough for you to spot the playful glint in his eye.
Wally bounces in, cheeks warm, “Oh man, you should’ve seen him the other night! He was practically—”
But at once he goes still, head tilting as though he’s sniffed out a storm. You glance back to see Dick’s broad shoulders tightening, firm look in his eyes as the air between them crackling. Wally simply cracks a smile, winks at you, and you can’t help the soft giggle that slips free, melting the sudden tension.
Conversation resumes in a smooth ebb and flow. Dick regales you with dry wit, but you sense something unspoken, an electrified undercurrent, lurking behind every perfectly timed laugh. Then the music shifts: a deep, throbbing beat you adore. Your foot taps against the plush carpet, perfectly in sync, and before you know it, Wally catches Dick’s eye, nods, and together they rise to guide you toward the dance floor.
The moment you step under the strobes, you’re sandwiched between them., and you can’t truly complain. Wally’s hand curls at your waist, firm and warm, while Dick closes in from behind. You feel the heat of his chest pressed against your back and the soft brush of his stubble at your neck.
His breath, warm and intoxicating, carries the true scent of you—a mix of your floral scent and something far deeper, something that has clung to Wally’s clothes since he came home drenched in it the other night.
He’d practically attacked Wally in relief when he got back, desperate for any trace of you. Wally, ever mischievous, had produced a pair of your lace-trimmed underwear as proof, the delicate fabric still redolent of your skin.
Dick isn’t afraid to admit that he was mortified at first to meet you. A bit tongue-tied in front of you, eyes flicking with embarrassment, and trying to hide his obvious bulge once he got a whiff of you. But down here on the floor, with your scent wrapping around them and the heady pulse of the music, any reserve has evaporated.
Now Dick releases a low, throaty rumble in your ear while Wally’s fingers trail upward, fingertips ghosting along the curve of your hip. The mingling of their scents spins in the air like a private aphrodisiac. Every beat of the bass carries the promise of something more, and you find yourself leaning back into Dick’s solid form, surrendering to the electric night that has only just begun.
Your body is sandwiched between their heated forms, Dick's solid chest pressed against your back while Wally faces you, their combined scents—Dick's sandalwood and Wally's spicier, cinnamon-tinged warmth—enveloping you like a possessive cloud. Their eyes dart dangerously at nearby dancers, silently warning off anyone who dares look your way too long.
Wally's emerald eyes darken as he looks at you, at the image you make pressed against his alpha before he captures your mouth in a kiss that's all tongue and teeth, his fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head back. The wet sounds of your lips meeting are barely audible over the pounding bass, but Dick hears enough to make his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, his breath coming faster against your neck as he watches Wally devour you.
When Wally finally breaks away, your lips are swollen and glistening, eyes focused on the beta who shoots Dick a wolfish wink before trailing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt on your skin. The moment his lips find your pulse point, Dick's stubbled jaw scratches deliciously against the opposite side of your neck, both men marking you with synchronized precision.
The sweet-honey scent of your arousal intensifies, cutting through the club's haze of alcohol and perfume. Their matching groans vibrate against your skin as their hips instinctively grind forward, the unmistakable ridge of their erections pressing against you from both sides, making your knees weaken with dizzying pleasure.
Dick suddenly tears his mouth away with an audible gasp, his pupils blown so wide only a thin ring of midnight blue remains visible. He can feel his Aloha lingering right at the edge, a sign that he’s loosing control—regardless of how shameful he feels for admitting that.
His gaze darts across the writhing sea of bodies on the dance floor, jaw clenched tight enough to make the muscle beneath his stubbled cheek twitch. His hand slides possessively around your waist, five fingers splaying across your lower abdomen, the heat of his palm burning through the thin fabric of your dress as he guides you toward a velvet-roped corridor bathed in crimson light. Wally moves ahead like a sentinel, his broad shoulders, parting the crowd while occasionally shooting warning glances at wandering hands that drift too close to you, his freckled face momentarily hardening into something dangerous before softening when he looks back at you.
They lead you to a dimly lit back room with burgundy walls and low leather couches, illuminated only by recessed amber lighting that casts everyone in a golden glow. Dick walks you to the center of the plush carpet, turning you to face the doorway as his hands begin a slow exploration of your body. Here, away from prying eyes, his touch grows bolder, no longer concerned about others catching the intoxicating scent of your arousal that now perfumes the air around you.
Wally turns the lock with a decisive click before leaning back against the door, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches. His fingers work the top buttons of his shirt, revealing a tantalizing strip of freckled skin as Dick's hands travel from your waist upward. Dick's palm curves perfectly around your breast, kneading gently before continuing its journey up to your throat, where his fingers rest with just enough pressure to make your pulse jump.
He tilts your chin with his thumb, angling your face perfectly before claiming your mouth in a kiss so deep and filthy it makes your toes curl in your heels. The obscene sounds of your coupling echo in the room—your breathless moans and the wet slide of tongues deliberately exaggerated as Dick puts on a show, his eyes flicking to Wally's flushed face with smug satisfaction.
Eventually, he pulls away, his thumb dragging slowly across your kiss-swollen bottom lip, leaving a trail of dampness before his hooded gaze shifts to Wally, who remains pressed against the mahogany door, chest heaving beneath his half-unbuttoned shirt.
"Wow, what a pretty sight he makes," Dick purrs, voice like velvet against your ear. "Look how flushed he looks—cheeks stained crimson, pupils blown wide. He wants you so bad, baby." His tone caresses you like warm honey, but hardens to steel as he addresses Wally. "But you're going to stay right there, aren't you, Wally?"
When both you and Wally let out needy whines that echo in the dimly lit room, Dick's throaty chuckle vibrates against your skin. His large hand drifts down to encircle your throat, long fingers spanning the delicate column as he repositions himself to face you. The pad of his thumb traces lazy patterns over your fluttering pulse point, his midnight-blue eyes fixated on the motion as if entranced by the visible proof of your racing heartbeat. After several hypnotic strokes, his gaze locks with yours, another knowing chuckle escaping his lips as he catches the unmistakable scent of your arousal perfuming the air between you.
"Don't tell me you forgot their punishment already? I know Jason would have told you."
You pause, mind foggy with desire as you struggle to recall the hushed conversation from earlier—fragments of words exchanged in hurried whispers before everything spiraled into this intoxicating moment. Were they actually serious about that?
"What, you're gonna tell me you didn't love it?" Wally taunts, voice husky with need. Before you can process the movement, Dick stalks across the plush carpet to tower over Wally, whose emerald eyes gleam with defiance despite the submissive tilt of his head. Dick's fingers trace the prominent outline straining against Wally's tailored slacks before he leans down, lips brushing the shell of Wally's ear as he whispers something that makes Wally's breath catch audibly. Through it all, the bass from downstairs thrums through the floorboards, the muffled melody of some top-40 hit barely penetrating the sanctuary of your private room.
Dick returns to you with measured steps, the amber lighting casting golden highlights across his sharp cheekbones. "Nothing crazy or too wild will happen tonight," he promises, voice deep and reassuring, "but say 'red' if anything gets to be too much and we'll stop immediately."
When you nod, Dick rewards you with a smile so brilliant it crinkles the corners of his eyes, sending a cascade of endorphins flooding your system. Your omega instincts—buried deep in your hindbrain—practically purr with satisfaction at pleasing such a powerful alpha. Stupid, be cool, you scold yourself silently, even as your body betrays you.
Too late. The slick-proof panties you'd worn specifically to contain yourself have surrendered completely, soaked through with evidence of your arousal. You watch their nostrils flare simultaneously, pupils dilating as your scent reaches them, sweet and unmistakable in the enclosed space.
"Oh, we could have a lot of fun, couldn't we, sweetheart?" Dick's voice drops to a velvet rumble that vibrates through your chest. His mouth claims yours in a bruising kiss, tongue delving deep as his calloused fingertips trace fire up your inner thighs. Your dress—that flimsy barrier of midnight silk—bunches around your waist, exposing goosebump-covered skin to the cool air. His fingers hover at the lace edge of your underwear, the heat of his palm radiating against your lower abdomen as he waits, eyes questioning.
With a breathless nod, you grant permission. His fingers hook into your waistband, the elastic snapping against your skin as he peels the damp fabric down your trembling legs. In one fluid motion, he tosses the ruined garment across the room where Wally catches them with catlike reflexes. The redhead brings them to his face, inhaling deeply, eyes fluttering closed in momentary ecstasy before tucking them into his back pocket, the lace peeking out like a trophy.
Wally's belt buckle jingles as he works his pants open just enough to free himself, thick and flushed, the crown glistening with pearlescent fluid. His chest heaves with each labored breath, emerald eyes glazed with lust as he wraps long fingers around his length. "Roy didn't even get this much," he whispers, more to himself than anyone else.
Your back hits the cool wall as Dick maneuvers you across the room, his talented fingers already working inside you, stretching and exploring with devastating precision. You reach for him with one hand, fingers barely touching the waistband before he chuckles softly.
"No," Dick tsks, voice husky with need. "You're going to need both hands for this. Here, lift it." He captures your palm, before spitting to provide a bit more publication, his saliva warm as it pools in your cupped hand before guiding you back to him. The feel of him pulses between your fingers as you twist both hands in tandem, exactly the way you know drives Wally wild.
A strangled groan tears from Wally's throat as he recognizes the technique—your signature move. Your eyes lock across the room, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. His lips curl into a knowing smile as he recognizes your deliberate teasing. "Little minx," he mouths, his pace quickening as he watches your hands work his alpha to a frenzy.
Dick withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth with deliberate slowness. His tongue flicks out to taste you before he grips your thighs, hoisting you higher against the wall until you hover just above him. The blunt pressure of his cock teases your entrance as he positions himself.
When he pushes in, the invasion is gradual—a slow claiming that makes your breath catch as your body yields to his size. A sound like thunder rumbles from his chest as he buries himself completely, his weight pinning you to the wall. The stretch burns and soothes in equal measure, sending electric currents racing beneath your skin. His gaze captures yours, pupils blown wide with hunger as he watches every flicker of sensation cross your face, drinking in the way your spine arches instinctively to take him deeper.
The rhythm of his thrusts became a deep, animalistic grind, each movement reverberating through the very bones of the old club, a testament to the raw need that consumed you both. He had you pinned against the wall, one powerful arm braced above your head, fingers curling around the rough surface of the plaster while his other hand gripped your hip, anchoring you in place. Each thrust was deliberate, aimed precisely to strike that sweet spot deep inside you, leaving you gasping for more.
The shadows in the room danced wildly, flickering in time with his relentless movements as the air thickened with the mingled scents of sweat and arousal. Your slickness coated him, the honeyed tang of your desire permeating the space, making it feel like you were inhaling the aftermath of a thunderstorm—charged, electric, alive. The world outside faded, leaving only the pounding of your hearts and the primal connection binding you together in this moment of unrestrained passion.
Wally watched from a few feet away, lips parted and chest heaving, his own pleasure written in the tremors that made his knuckles white where he clutched at himself. He didn’t dare approach—Dick's orders had been clear and final—but his gaze devoured every exposed inch of you, every twitch and gasp as Dick took you apart. The two men communicated in a silent, primal language: Dick’s possessive glance over your shoulder, Wally’s stifled growl of envy and hunger, the tension sparking between them as the crescendo built.
With every drive of Dick’s hips, your body arched and shuddered, the wall leaving a cool dampness across your back as you slid higher with each desperate thrust. The world had narrowed to the blur of neon outside the half-frosted window and the ironclad grip of Dick’s hands as he claimed you, marking his territory in a way that was raw and almost reverent.
When Dick finally reached the edge; his breath hitting a staccato, jaw clenched so tight the tendons stood out in stark relief, he managed a last, brutal pull before dragging himself out and painting your belly with hot, sticky ropes. The first spatter caught you just over the waistband of your dress, and the next followed in a rhythm that matched the raggedness of his breathing.
You sagged against the wall, boneless and trembling, as Dick’s fingers lingered between your legs, gently coaxing out the last aftershocks.
Wally, strung so tight it looked like he might snap, came only a moment later, a strangled sound escaping him as he spilled over his own fist, the evidence of his need darkening the fabric of his shirt. He made no move to clean up—only stared at you, glassy-eyed, as if you were the answer to every prayer he’d forgotten how to ask.
In the breathless, sticky aftermath, Dick pressed his lips to your forehead, a surprisingly tender benediction, before smoothing your hair back into place. He pulled you upright, tucking your body to his side with the same casual possessiveness he’d shown all night, and turned to Wally with a look that said: She’s part of this, now. Wally, still catching his breath, only nodded, a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
As you gathered yourself, dress clinging to the sweat on your skin, you realized your underwear was gone—not bunched around your ankles, not anywhere in sight. You opened your mouth to ask, but Dick was already one step ahead, kneeling gracefully to retrieve your purse from where it had fallen and handing it to you with a conspiratorial wink.
“Looks like you lost something, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice still thick with afterglow. Wally chimed in, “Must’ve gotten knocked off somewhere. We’ll just have to keep you extra safe on the way home, huh?” The way they exchanged glances—sheepish, sly, and more than a little proud—tipped you off. Your panties were gone by design, not by accident.
They made a show of searching the room, crawling around on hands and knees, but you could see the bulge in Wally’s pocket where a scrap of dark lace poked out. He had it clenched in his palm, a secret token he wasn’t about to surrender. You rolled your eyes and pretended not to notice, amusem*nt threading through the afterglow haze as Wally winked at you, conspirator to conspirator.
Dick, meanwhile, was already plotting the next moves. He straightened his shirt, slicked back his hair in the mirror, and surveyed the three of you with a newfound seriousness. The game wasn’t over—if anything, this had just been the opening gambit. Your missing underwear was a promise, a silent agreement that more was to come, and Dick relished the anticipation of it almost as much as the act itself.
When Wally finally peeled himself off the door, he sidled over and planted a kiss on your cheek, his breath still ragged but his eyes clear and intent. “Time to get you home,” he said, not quite a question. Dick’s hand tightened on your waist, and you felt the weight of their joint attention settle on you—heavy, exhilarating, and not a little scary.
You held back your words, the rhythm of your heart still echoing in your chest, the taste of Dick lingering on your lips rendering you momentarily speechless. Instead, you offered a small nod, and the three of you stepped out of the back room in a loose formation: Dick leading the way with his usual confident stride, while Wally followed closely, his presence steady and reassuring on either side of you like loyal sentinels. As you weaved through the club, the vibrant chaos around you faded into a blur; no one seemed to notice the charged trio moving through the thrumming crowd. Yet, you felt the weight of an unspoken bond, a tether forged by both men that wrapped around you as you made your way toward the exit.
Once outside, the cool night air brushed against your flushed skin, invigorating and refreshing. The city lights flickered like stars against the dark canvas of the sky, casting playful shadows on the pavement. “Let’s grab something to eat,” Dick suggested, glancing down at you with a knowing grin. Wally nodded in agreement, mischief dancing in his eyes. You strolled together, the sidewalks alive with nightlife sounds, laughter spilling from nearby bars and the distant hum of traffic.
As you walked, Dick's fingers brushed possessively against your lower back, guiding you forward, while Wally kept pace beside you, his gaze protective yet teasing. When you reached a drive-through, the enticing aroma of grilled meats and spices wafted through the air, making your stomach growl in anticipation. Dick ordered for all of you, his voice smooth and commanding, while you and Wally exchanged amused glances, the camaraderie deepening with each shared smile.
With bags of steaming food in hand, you continued your journey, laughter bubbling up as you recounted snippets of the evening, every moment laced with a thrill that lingered in the air. Finally, as you approached your apartment building, the warmth of the night enveloped you, but it was the closeness of the two men that truly ignited your senses. Standing at your door, Dick leaned in, brushing his lips against your temple—a gentle reminder of the connection you now shared. Wally hovered close, his eyes sparkling with promise, and you felt a rush of excitement course through you, knowing this was just the beginning of what lay ahead.
a/n: this one and the next are a bit more written like vague ideas with smut, so sorry about that! regardless i hoped you enjoyed! also, i think that first image is so fucking funny to me which is why i included it
sorry for the late post: i had issues with a client postponing on me, and it's left me scrambling for other jobs. that being said, i will be shameless and promote my commissions are open, please consider requesting some work from me, visit my masterlists to see my other quality of work.
as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! here's a kiss from me to you!😘 see ya tomorrow!
buy me a coffee | dc masterlist | anime masterlist
Tim sat cuddled into his nest, a blanket engulfed in Jay and Dicks scents around his shoulders and a tub of cookie dough ice cream in his lap. Jason and Dick stood uneasily in front of him.
Jason: what’s wrong bud- babe- Tim?
He switched based on Tim’s facial cues but he was playing in fragile territory.
Tim, sniffling: Bruce said he wouldn’t love me as a worm cus, cus I would never be one.
Jason:
Dick: ahhh, oh but I think he meant-
Jason sharply shook his head as he went up to Tim. He bent down folding his arms around Tim who warmly received him. Dick watched as Tim’s brows furrowed.
Tim: did- did you just sniff my neck to check if I’m nearing my heat?
Jason patted his back before pulling away, his head shaking.
Jason: no, no! Of course not, I was just trying not to cry too.
Jason: I mean, obviously I’d love you as a worm.
Tims lips puckered. Jason waved to Dick who lit up startled.
Jason: wouldn’t you Dick?
Dick: yes! Oh, yes, of course!
As Jason took Dicks shoulders he began to pull him away.
Jason: we’re gunna go get our worm some dirt pudding. You try to calm down.
Tim softly nodded as he reached sideways pulling up his tablet. Dick was impressed with how easily Jason always made him feel better. Jason suddenly yanked Dick in.
Jason, muttering: the pheromones are strong with this one.
Alpha!Dick loves to tell people about his little brother, making them picture a cute little pup, only for Alpha!Jason's hulking, tank-like figure to round the corner like oh my god that's not a pup.
Cashier, scanning a stuffed wolf: For your kid?
Dick, all pleasantries and smiles: No, my baby brother.
Cashier, instantly charmed: Aww, I'm sure he's lucky to have you—
Jason, suddenly appearing to put a metal pipe, six feet of rope, and a roll of duct tape on the conveyor belt: Again with the plushies?
Cashier: ...
Dick, now scowling: Don't throw it out this time, asshole.
Jason: Fine, but only 'cause you're paying.
Cashier: ... (°⌓ °;)
Dick: That'll be all :)
—
At a diner
Dick: My little brother's in the bathroom, I'll just order for the both of us. Black coffee and a strawberry milkshake, please.
Waiter: Would the kid want whipped cream on that?
Jason, towering over the waiter from behind: Yes. I would.
Waiter: ...
Waiter: Coming right up.
Dick, watching the waiter scurry off: And not a single thank you. Where are your manners?
Jason, crossing his arms and pouting: Shut up, you know I get nervous when I have to order for myself.
A/O/B dicktim (theyre both Alphas) where Tim breaks into Dick's appartment but Dick forgot to text him that his rut started early- and Tim's never been around Dick while he's in rut bc Dick is known to be MEGA territorial- but Dick sees him and caputures him before Tim can nope out and now Dick has trapped him in his den and is alternating between pacing and checking traps, and obsessively scenting every inch of Tim.
AND THEN!!! When Tim tries to get up and make food Dick's poor overcooked alpha brain understands that Tim wants food so he literally makes a mini nest in the hallway leading to the kitchen for Tim to sit and stay in while Dick makes like- a weeks worth of meal prep. And everytime Tim tries to help Dick growls at him for leaving his nest, where Dick can keep an eye on him. And after Dick makes all the food he INSISTS on feeding Tim by hand to make sure he eats before he even takes a single bite for himself.
And then near the end of his rut Dick is like- able to talk now, but his instincts are still driving him up the wall, so he has to have conversations with Tim like:
Dick: try to leave the nest and I WILL tackle you to the floor. And it wont be my fault.
Tim: dick I'm literally dying i NEED to stretch my legs
Dick: no
Tim: why
Dick: because you need to stay in the nest
Tim: WHY tho
Dick: because if I smell you anywhere but the nest then I'll have to rescent and re-check the traps in my entire appartment, then I'll have to hold you down in the nest because leaving you out of my eyesight will kick up my instincts
Tim: your instincts are very needy
Dick: it's your fault
Tim: how tf is it my fault
Dick: idk all I know is that this has never happened before ergo it's your fault. Never should have broken in smh
Tim: this is victim blaming
And that entire conversation is while they're cuddled up in three blankets with dick curled all arround Tim because if he moves right now he WILL start another scenting session and those are lowkey embarassing while he's in his right mind.
And after that rut Tim smells like dick for a WEEK no matter what he tries, and Dick feels more refreshed post-rut than he has in a while. So the next time Dick's rut rolls around, he actually invites Tim over bc he wants to know if it'll happen again. (It does.)
