#ler bruce wayne

[kanene-yaaay]

A Successful Plan

Kanene's notes: LET'S GOOOO! I've really been into batfam lately and <3 <3 as I've said before the idea of writing a tickle fic w platonic a/b/o has been rotating on my mind forever so I hope you all like this silly story as much as I liked to write it <3.

Also big shout out to @august-anon for both dragging me into the Batfam fandom AND reading my brain about a/b/o tfics xDD

And! The idea of Tim getting very loopy after being tickled is heavily inspired by this fic so pls check out it too! ^^

Warnings: I've never read the comics so this is probably OOC. This is a platonic a/b/o AU, there are mentions of heats but it's purelly platonic and toothrotting fluff all around. Omega!Bruce Wayne. Ticklish!Tim & Ler!Bruce. Around 3.500 words.

[~*~]

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Hm.” Bruce answered, just the slightest upwards tilt on his lips, which was the equivalent of a shit-eating grin for him. More of the sleep-comfortable-safe pheromones that had been previously  spreading slowly across the nest became stronger, probably already half way to impregnate the entire room.

Tim grumbled as his muscles instinctively relaxed even more on the sea of comforters and pillows surrounding them. The laptop on his lap tilted dangerously, the case he was analyzing on the screen blinking in and out in front of his exhausted eyesight. 

The entire scenario was way too alluring to his already tired mind, especially since that was no way for him to make a quick escape to have at least one cup of coffee or snag a couple of his energy drinks from the hidden stash.

He growled petulantly when Bruce’s hand inched closer to the device in his peripheral view, only for the adult to change his trajectory to lay it across the teen’s shoulder, pulling him closer to him and using his other hand to dutifully comb his hair (as if he wasn’t the one to blame for its messy state), scratching his scalp in a way that only made his body want to melt even more until Tim was nothing but a puddle in the nest. 

The scalding look he sent Bruce had no effect as the other continued with the careful combing. At least he was gracious enough to ignore the childish, tiny puppy-whine that sang in the back of his throat at this unfair treatment, quietly answering it with an amused but non sense chuff.

He sighed and started to save his documents and turn off the programs he was using, preparing to turn off the computer before Bruce began to brood and use even more unhanded methods to get him to rest. 

A post-patrol Bruce was impossible to escape and Tim had already fought valiantly as much as he could, but after spending an entire night as Batman, dealing with fights and high stress situations, all while  using the heaviest scent-blockers on the market and pushing his every instinct down to hide any trace of heat from prying eyes, it was understandable that when he came back Bruce got a little overbearing.

Dick usually called it his Mama Bear mode, Jason, however, much less lovingly called it his Creepy Kidnapper Time, since no matter where they were or what time of the day it was, he would be usually using the shadows to snoop in and carry his (babies) (puppies) (children) (family) boys back to his nest (where they should be, why must they keep running away!) while scenting them like there was a horde of other packs just waiting for the slightest slip to steal them away from him, only to dump them on his nest and physically lay on them to prevent any escape attempts, amidst background noises full of swearing, amused crackling, protests or half-heartedly growls.

Nowadays it was all mostly funny, at most slightly annoying. 

Even so, Tim doesn’t think he will ever recover from the heart attack that it was to be nodding his head to his metal music while hacking on the CPDC system on the Batcave (he could ask Gordon directly about it but it was always funny to see his tired-I’m-too-old-for-this-batbullshit stare every time they meet after Tim left him an absolutely very helpful very serious message remembering them how easy still it was to hack into their programs) in his second year being a Robin only to be dragged to the darkness by a Bruce chirping and nuzzling his hair and growling terrifyingly when Tim tried to (very politely at the time) get out of his nest to call Dick and ask if Batman had been abducted and exchanged by a clingy clone from another universe.

Years later and with all his family close again, there was never a shortage of children to lock his attention and soothe the haywire omega instincts that always clouded his mind during his heats. Unfortunately, this specific time they were in the middle of an important case that had Duke and Red Hood locked deep into undercover investigations, with Cass still in Chinatown solving her own troubles and Nightwing working extra hours to hide Batman’s shorter patrols from the public eye. 

Damian had already served as a sacrifice in the morning for Bruce and had bravely endured all the coddling and care of his father for hours before scurrying to his room with hisses and bristles when Bruce tried to pull him back to his nest.

(Of course, that didn’t stop him from smirking smugly at Tim just a few minutes ago as he passed by Bruce’s door with Alfred The Cat in his arms, fully enjoying his new found freedom and enjoying even more Tim’s lack of it.)

With left Tim, who had been benched a couple days ago for pulling at his stitches after promising Alfred he would not do such a thing and was serving his exile to case working until the butler could be completely assured his cut would be healed nice and fully before he was allowed to step into patrols once again. Which may or may not have resulted in Tim feeling a tad left out and diving into investigations and solving cold cases with a determination that could make him forget basic necessities such as food and sleep.

Hence his new predicament.

“You should be on my side.” Tim ignored the sleepy notes that started to take over his words, frowning at Bruce, who hummed, not bothering to look up from his book, giving him a light scratch just above his nape that sent relaxing shivers across his spine. “One workaholic from another. Besides, you literally spent two hours brooding when Damian slammed the door in your face and stole my Stalker Album so you could whine at pictures of your kids and still insist on going to patrol every night while I can’t even help solving a few cases. Hypocrite much.”

The hand on his hair climbed down just enough to pinch the back of his ear lightly in reprimand. Bruce didn’t dignify him with an answer, rubbing his wrist on the sides of his neck with the scent that Tim had now come to associate with safety and pack.

Shit, Bruce really wasn’t above pulling the big guns tonight. Tim’s entire pack knew how any kind of close contact with even a small bit of pheromones from his pack was the perfect way to completely slow his mind and leave him totally loopy, which never failed to amuse his family.

He could pretend to mind all he wanted, too, but it was no secret how it all made that tiny puppy from years ago happy, the little one who watched hungrily those shows about packs that snuggled and lived and loved together, who read about bonds that went deference space and time to allow someone to call (someone to answer and come) when the other needed, who watched Batman pull Robin under his cape and yearned.

But a Robin was nothing if not stubborn. Time to change tactics.

“Woah, use the neglected kid's biggest weakness against him.” His attempt to push any kind of bite into his words were futile and when he blinked, slowly, the computer was no longer on his leg, probably scurried away under some hidden pillow of the nest. Tim blinked once more and he was being gathered closer, half draped on his dad’s chest, a deep rumble pulling a protesting chirp from him, even if it sounded even more half-meaning than the last. “Wait until the tabloids get a hang of this sob story, they will have a field day.”

Finally satisfied that his pup was smelling like him, Bruce huffed and began running the tip of his fingers on the other’s back, knowing very well all his kids were weak to back scratches and not afraid to use it to his favor.

“Resistance Training.” He remarked. Nothing in his voice was playful, but when you became fluent in Batman’s grunts and hums, you learned when to notice the lightness in his words and the small twinkle in his eyes that meant he was poking fun at you.

Tim squeaked, then pushed his face on his chest, shoulders shaking with a slight tremble on them. A playful content-fun-flustered flowery scent took the air and Bruce took advantage of how the other’s hidden face didn’t allow him to see the tiny smile forming on his expression.

Yes, all his kids were equally weak for back scratches, but some were simply weaker than others.

“Bruhuhuhuce!”

“Hm?”

Unbothered, the fingers continued, calmly climbing upwards in between firmer rubs and lighter scratching, until he could swirl patterns across his shoulder blades, sneaking a stronger scribble right under each one so the muffled titters gave up to a sea of snickers, silly, free and so unlike the serious, cunning Red Robin in the field or the well mannered Timothy Drake seen at galas that it made every cell in Tim’s body sparkle flustered, especially when he could literally feel the fondness oozing from Bruce through their bond.

He must have been even more tired than he thought, too, because with just that light touch all the rationality escaped his body in a haste, leaving behind only the buzzing, tingling tickles that made him automatically let go of all his control from his other bonds, not taking too long before Dick answered his rush of happiness with excitement-adorable-want-tease, Jason poked fun at him with a quick spark of amused-snort-goodluck, Damian took his revenge from all the early teasing sending a smug satisfied-deserved-welldoneFather and Alfred, with the lowest attack of them all, simply let the warmest, fondest feeling of love shower them through the bond.

“Nohoho ticklihihihing!” Ignoring how whiny and childish such words sounded, Tim wiggled from one side to another, trying to dislodge those damned skilled fingers that knew their every ticklish spot and refused to not explore each and every single of them again and again until he was nothing but a puddle of giggles. 

Pinches upon pinches, light and soft and sparkling in tiny bolts of ticklishness that felt like shocking, buzzing electricity that kept teasing his nerves over and over again, rained upon the twin spots under his shoulder blades. They jumped from one to another in random intervals, barely letting his snickers slow before going to the other side and dragging squeaks upon squeaks from his throat. “Gehehehet out!”

“But you love your tickles.”

Tim sputtered, at the nonchalant way Bruce said it, at the truth in his words, at the way it didn’t even sound like a tease but was the meanest, most mischievous thing someone could say-

Bruce smirked, glad that the distracting technique still worked so well, and both of his hands came down to that lovely space in between his dear, poor ticklish son's back and armpit, latching on the weak spots with only his index and middle finger and tasering.

“y-yOU- NAHAHAHAHAHA!” The boy threw his head back, shrieking, his noodle arms finally gathered enough strength to push him away from Bruce’s chest, an effort that unfortunately only propelled him even close to the silly tickling fingers. “NOHOHOHOHOT THERE, BRUHUHUHUCE, NOT THEREHEHEHE!”

“Not where?” Tasering gave space to squeezes, one after the other after the other, again and again until the shrill sound of his crackles rang loud across the entire room. His arms lost once more their strength, which resulted in Tim falling back on Bruce’s chest, who bore the sudden weight with a quiet oof, amused at how no amount of contorting nor imitating a wiggly worm made the younger able to push the attacking hands away from the maddening spots.

He kept the attack for a few more seconds, alternating between drumming his fingers to catch ear-splitting squeals and wiggling that would pry the most lovely crackles. Eventually, the hands lifted from his back, letting the laughter simmer back to a fast, uncontrollable giggle fit. Laying a comforting hand in between his shoulderblades, only years of practice kept Bruce from cooing at how his son jumped and let out a tittering yelp at the sudden contact, sniggering growing stronger once again, despite the fact he wasn’t even moving his hand.

“Huh? Talk to me, chum. I’m afraid there is someone laughing an awfully lot close by and I couldn’t understand you.”

Tim shook his head, cheeks, ears, face melting at each tease. He opened his mouth to retort with… something only to feel two thumbs suddenly descending once more on the tickle spots, buzzing as if their lives depended on pushing all the air from his lungs in a loud, strident screech that was quickly followed by even more laughter.

“Oh!” Bruce exclaimed, enlightened, as if an idea just appeared on his mind. “Not here, were you saying?” He made sure to highlight his words with even more digging, thumbs crawling to tease with scribbles the edges of his armpits, which, of course, made Tim glue his arms to his sides in a poor defense that unfortunately only helped to lock the tickles right into the tickle spots. Poor lad. “Not right here, perhaps?”

“YES!” Tim crackled, shrieked, squealed, eyes pressed firmly closed, smile stretched from ear to ear. “NOHOHOHOT THERE! IT THIHIHIHICKLES, IT THIHIHICKLES!”

“Does it?” Suddenly, Bruce freed his hands from their imprisonment and wormed them under Tim’s arms until he could prod and spider across his ribs, attack now changing to a much softer, quicker kind of attack that were so unlike the previous one that it felt like they were directly teasing each one of his senses, buzzing and tingling spreading across his ribs and torso as if dancing across his nerves. It was just the perfect kind of tickles to catch the sweetest, most adorable fits of Tim giggling in the entire Earth. “What about here? Does it tickle too?”

Tim tried to roll away, shaking his head, then nodding, then trying to hide his face when he peaked one of his eyes open only to see the most embarrassing, mushy, soft face glued on Bruce’s expression that made him decide there was no other viable option other than faking his death and fleeing the country after this whole ordeal was over.

As if sensing the turn of his thoughts (or simply deciding that his son could have a little more of tormenting, as a treat), Bruce clawed at the top of his ribs, being careful to both latch and drum on the sensitive bones and skitter lightly at the ticklish places in between each rib. Tim kicked, garbled, completely intelligible sounds leaving his lips in a torrent of snickering, snorting laughter that made his entire body shake with the force of it.

Bruce hummed, even nodding once, as if he could understand a single word being said. “I see your point. Those indeed feel like ‘very tickle-tickly-ticklish’ ribs, but we must not fall on the fallacy of generalization, Tim. Let’s see if all of your other ribs are ticklish too.”

“Eeeek! Nononononohohoho! They’re tihihihihicklish! They’re tihihihihicklish, I swehehehear!”

Bruce pretended his heart wasn’t melting with the sheer cuteness that it was to see his son squealing in mirth in his arms and valiantly did not begin peppering his hair with kisses and nuzzles. “Sorry, chum, you know I must verify it.”

Giggles, snickers, squeaks, chuckles and snorts, it all mixed in the air as Bruce took his precious time “inspecting” each one of his ribs. There was prodding, there was poking along the bone, following his torso with scribbles and spidering when Tim tried to squirm away and low chuckles reverberating across the room each time a quick drumming or persistent scratching pried a surprised, tittering yelp or another sea of intelligible, protesting words that didn’t match at all the purring that sputtered here and there from the younger, growing louder and louder at each moment.

“Plehehehease! Dahahahad!”

Bruce froze in place.

And his internal omega sang. 

He watched Tim, staring at him still giggling, still blushing, still scrambling with totally uncoordinated moves to pry his squeezing, pinching hands from his sides, only to see his eyes widening in recognition, his scent quickly growing with excitement-trepidation-surprise-mirth-wAIT-

On the next second, Bruce had his (puppy) (child) (kid) (son) (my pup, my pup, mine mine mine) in his arms and was nuzzling his hair, his neck, his stomach, crooning at the way it shook under his kisses and nibbles and scenting and raspberries that kept pulling, one after the other, those adorable, precious, happy high pitched, childish, free and unstoppable shrieking laughter, almost inaudible under his own loud purring and happy thrills as he made sure that every little crook and nook received their proper (tickly) attention over and over again.

“Dad! Shihihihit, wait, wait, wahahahait, ihihihit tickles ihihihit tihihihickles!” 

And it really did, his dad was truly and 100% lost into his tickle lovingly mode (as Dick dearly named it) and it would be an absolute bliss (or at least a fun blackmail material to tease him when his heat-brain cleared) if every single piece of his affection didn’t tickle so much.

It wasn’t only the raspberries, the nibbles and the nuzzling that kept following his stomach and neck no matter how much Tim squirmed or pulled his shoulders upwards, only to have Bruce unyielding shoving his face and rubbing that awfully, absolutely horrible stubble all over his sensitive neck but also the way that he kept purring, the vibrations travelling his already sensitive tickle spots and only increasing every single ghost tickle tenfold. 

It was also the way that his crooning and chuffing kept calling his inner pup and having Tim answering every single one of his calls with mirthful chirps and delighted thrills of yes-here-I’m-here-I’myourpup! that came out more and more snickery and giggly at each turn, which only resulted with Bruce calling him even more.

Or even worse (better), it was how listening to such a tiny, simple word made Bruce’s scent explode in happiness-love-care-pup-dear-joy-precious-mine-mine and how it made Tim’s very soul sing in delight, worming himself close to his scent and warmth (and, by proxy, the tickly attention).

His brain was completely taken over by the tickles and the feelings, every thought seemed to flee from Tim’s mind except his tittering, chirping and joyful, shrieking, hiccupping giggles that grew more and more loopy at each passing second, time losing its meaning in that sweet moment of love and care.

And even when the tickle attack ceased, Tim didn’t bother to try to wiggle away from the comfort of his dad's arms, trusting them to keep him safe in his slumber. Instead, as his chirps and snickers grew slower and lower, he nuzzled once under Bruce’s chin, snuggling closer and purring without a care in the world as Bruce arranged the blankets and pillows to better hide them from any danger or stranger that dared to come closer to his territory. There was a kiss on his head and a quiet grumble that was quickly changed to a pleased chuff when he moved just enough to pull some clothes that smelled like his pack closer.

Just like that, they fell into a comfortable sleep, a tiny, still lightly rational part of Bruce’s mind basking smugly in the happiness of another successfully executed plan.

[~*~]

Fun Facts!

I completely forgot the name of the police force in Gotham so I just pushed together random letters hope you can forgive me guys 'v')b

I love the idea that growing up pretty much alone makes Tim extra-extra susceptible to his pack scents. Like my boy is all >:[ serious mode working then Cass appears at his side looking at him with those Big Ol Eyes, scent full of worry-care-love because his brother haven’t slept in 3 days and Tim immediately begin feeling his walls crumbling and stubbornness weakening until he is turning off the computer and following her to her nest already half-asleep so they can cuddle and sleep all while they pretend that her loud satisfied-happy rumbling is hiding his content-loved tiny purring

OR OR OR Imagine he just surviving a tickle attack from Dick, all smiling, blushing, opening his eyes while there are still high pitched giggles leaving his mouth and BAM suddenly he is slammed by Dick’s happy-joy-mirth-love-love-family-love scent because that is !!!! his lil bro!!!! his cute lovely adorable little brother!!!!!! And Dick is purring up a storm nuzzling his hair, hugging him and Tim is now even MORE giggly completely loopy, automatically dazed, lost in the sauce, no thoughts on his head at all just happiness and giggles and ghost tickles

I like to think that his purring is usually all stumbling, like, quiet and a little bit weird sounding and interrupting itself because he is unused to make it OR when he is very very relaxed, almost asleep extremely loud, non stop, makes his entire chest tremble with the force of it, no in-between

Also u can decide everyone second gender I left it undecided for your imagination except for Bruce I am so sorry that man is an Omega in all the senses like COME ON his life is adopt kids and carry the weight of loving his family so much as a mantle and being hella protective of his city and his family LIKE!!!!!!

 Also, I hope that was clear on the fic but in this AU not all the heats are sexual. Actually I’ve seen in a fic Bruce usually having a Puppy-Heat where he basically just wants to throw all of his children on his nest and make sure they are 100% secure and under his protection all the time and cuddled and taken care of and happy and that is basically what I wanted to have here too

I know most of the fics focus on Bruce in heat taking care of all his children and pulling them to his nest and everything but can we also talk a bit about a teen Bruce lurking around the corner of the kitchen and staring fixately at Alfred until the butler sigh, finish cleaning the plates and tidying everything else before fondly saying ‘Yes, master Bruce, I shall accompany you now.’ And following his dear boy to his nest while young Bruce tries to valiantly hide his happy chirping at finally having his family close and protected again, sleeping so easily and quietly under Alfred's vigilant gaze. Just think it’s extra funny to imagine Bruce being a hoarder since he was a tiny child jhygtfrgthyujikol

I also love to think about Cass ABSOLUTELY THRIVING with Heat-Bruce, happy to basically live in his nest during the duration of his heat, getting all the cuddles she could ever want, holding hour-long conversations with only chirps and purrs and chuffs and helping him to steal her brothers back every time they wander too far from the nest

The family has an album full of pictures that Tim took from all the members (in and out patrols, before and after him becoming Robin) which is lovingly called “the Stalker Book”

Ya know how cats begin to yowl when they think their owners are not home, calling for them? Bruce during his puppy heat with his children. Also they have a group chat where the only thing they send is videos/pics of embarrassing moments of Bruce during his heat and it's amazing

Also I think it is super funny Tim using his ‘woah, yeah, ok then deny the neglected kid any trace of love :/’ card every time his brothers deny him anything. Like I read a fic where Jason had been embarrassed bc he dragged Tim to his nest during his heat to cuddle and refused to get into it again until Tim began making those ‘sad-abandoned-alone-help’ puppy noises which IMMEDIATELY made Jason jump back to cuddle him (grumbling and swearing ofc) and I thought that was super funny so I hc him doing this all the time. He knows the power that he holds and he is not afraid to use it <3

Calling Bruce ‘dad’ can be a double edged sword he can either do anything you ask or immediately fall into tickle attack mode (must get the cuteness aggression out) there is also no in between rip (win-win situation i guess)

Anyway that's it yipeee pls leave a comment if u can I would love to hear any thoughts about this story or this trope <3

[kanene-yaaay]

Forever Stuck

Kanene's Notes: First chapter of my Platonic a/b/o tickles series with the batfamily "Nests, Pack and Other Things That Can Not Be Separated". Aaaaaa I am so excited to be finally posting this! I hope you all like it as much as I loved to write each scenario <3

Warnings: Lots of familial tickles. All platonic. Ticklish Dick & Ler Bruce. Around 4.000 words. Mock Nests are a concept inspired by this fic (I really recommend it if you like platonic a/b/o).

[~*~]

Nesting is a common behavior registered along the centuries as both a communal and individual activity that regulates the emotional, physical and mental health of any individual. Although its particularities and significances can vary across the years and culture, one thing is consensus when the subject is nesting: It’s a form of bonding, whether with oneself or another.

Nests are essential for the wellness of any secondary genre. It is not a new subject to discuss the diverse benefits obtained by the body or mind from nesting and the first studies about it date back to as long as humans have existed.

Although nests are highly shown when spoken about puppies and/or the necessity of letting the young develop sense of organization, self-regulation and the understanding of both pack and themselves, little is still discussed about the continuity of this importance in one’s life after puphood.

There are plenty of subdivisions created to better understand and study the phenomenon of nesting. Even though the intrinsicality and significance goes beyond simple wordily divisions, for the sake of dynamicity we are going to separate the subject of nest in three main types: Mock Nests, Pack Nests and Individual Nests.

a. Mock Nests: They represent a large group that involves the loose aggregation of lighter, even ‘casual’ (non-scented or specific) nest materials, easily found and heavily scented by the one who built it. They are characterized for being both quick to be assembled and easy to disassembled, found and built for various purposes (i.e: Healing Nests) to be spread across the house.

(…)

The ambush took less than 0.5 second to happen.

Clearly had been planned in advance, it came in the very moment Bruce acquiesced with his ward’s pleas and moved to follow the little pup on the plush ground, already feeling the phantom soreness his back would hold in the morning.

He barely had enough time to adjust himself on the thrown pillows before a triumphant thrill broke the air and a young boy with black hair and shiny, vivid blue eyes threw himself at him, taking over his lap with self-satisfied purrs so loud they almost shook the younger’s chest with their strength.

Bruce lifted one eyebrow when those electric eyes stared at him in challenge, the corner of his lip twitching to tilt upwards in amusement when Dick considered his lack of protest a victory for itself and chirped once smugly.

His movements were enthusiastic as he began to pull the thrown blanked from the couch to Bruce’s lap and he started maneuvering himself to be able wave the soft fabric across and under Bruce’s leg without getting up in the fear of losing his upper hand.

The mystery of Dick’s previous run to his room right after the dinner and fashion decision to use a large hoodie in the middle of summer was finally solved as he began pulling a black shirt that Bruce had “lost” a few days ago and a couple of Alfred’s gloves from under it, scents mingling in a way that made Bruce’s inner omega preen and rumble approvingly at his smart pup’s choices.

As he perched himself on one of his legs, Dick began to organize his stolen goods across the pillows that formed the base of his mock nest on Bruce’s lap, one or two concentrated chitters flying here and there as he adjusted the fabric at his liking, leaving the middle bare for himself and the clothes closest to the edge, a clear instinct to show anyone who dared to approach that the puppy was clearly well watched and protected by a pack.

Here and there, a puppish growl filled the air as a clothe didn’t fold or spread quickly enough for his liking, promptly answered by Bruce’s soothing rumble.

When Bruce tried to help by pulling a pillow closer, however Dick nipped his hand indignantly and the omega wisely crooned once in an amused apology, wisely deciding to sat back and rest his back on the cushion of the couch staying vigilant as the (his) pup was free to organize the nest as he liked.

It didn’t take long for it to be finished and soon enough Dick was laying himself on the dip of Bruce’s lap, his constant purrs hitching louder when old omega’s arms came down around the mock nest in a mimicry of a hug, subtly pushing the borders closer and the boy closer to him, which made the soft walls higher and appeased the natural instinct of every puppy to stay low and hidden from the world.

Dick squawked once when a fond kiss was laid on the crown of his head, mind rapidly getting over the surprise to push his head back under Bruce’s chin, happy to soak every hint of affection from the usually closed omega, scents of protective-pup-love mingling with happy-safe-loved as stray youngish yips called older gruffier chitters.

The quiet click of a camera going off only made Bruce’s content rumble stronger, already calculating where the new photo would fit better on his desk and which angle was best for the frame so he could stare at it at his most boring meetings.

When he was satisfied with the scenting, Dick turned himself back to the TV and pressed play. They were doing a movie marathon in celebration of Dick’s good grades and the success of his first solo patrol.

They were very late for it, unfortunately emergencies tied to both their night work and Wayne Enterprises did not care for plans, and Dick young one had been growing more impatient and brooding as the last few days were piled with interruptions.

Today Bruce had made sure that they would have a completely free night and the pup had been adamant to start as soon as possible before something else came up and obliged them to push the celebration to another day, even hoping Alfred into an earlier dinner, although the butler had drawn a line at unhealthy store-bought snacks.

(Both him and Dick had smuggled a couple from their last patrol and would be sharing it as soon as Alfred was distracted, of course.)

Call it his soft, bleeding heart or the novelty of parenthood clouding momentarily his judgement, but Bruce only realized the depth of the trap he fell when Alfred stepped in the room with two large bowls of popcorn and baked sweets. Just as he projected himself to grab them all he actually received was a fierce growl that made him freeze on the spot instinctively, watching was Dick instead tilted in the direction of the snacks.

Alfred watched the interaction with an unconcealed amused glint in his eyes and perfect posture as he handed Dick the bowls, successfully pulling his attention from where he stared Bruce down with a frown.

The omega analyzed. In the end, Bruce hummed.

“It seems like I am stuck, Alfred.”

“So, it does, Master Bruce. I suggest you proceed with caution if you wish to be allowed to leave.”

“Nope!” Dick happily interrupted, munching on the popcorn and giving Alfred a tiny apologetic smile when the older tsked in soft admonishing at him talking while eating. Then he turned around and gave Bruce the largest, proudest, most mischievous grin that made his eyes crinkle unapologetically with its width. “Now you can’t leave! You’re stuck here forever until we finish the movies.”

“All of them?”

“All of them!”

“Oh my.”

Dick chirped once, pleased and snuggled further on the nest as Bruce cautiously adjusted his position to get more comfortable, sneaking a sturdy pillow to support his lower back. Without further interruption, they turned their attention to the movie, happy to enjoy the calm moment.

Until, his work phone began to ring.

Even before he could turn his attention to it, Bruce felt Dick stiffen instinctively, weight heavier as he fully sprawled himself even further on his lap, limbs going to every direction and becoming completely boneless. He ignored the ringtone.

“Dick.”

Silence.

Only a growl answered him, the end pitching into a whine when Bruce made an attempt to move. “No.”

“Dick, I need to see my phone.”

Dick didn’t answer him.

The omega sighed as his pup very pointedly focused on the television, purrs becoming purposely louder each time Bruce chuffed to call his attention again.

Bruce pondered. Of course, this was not the ringtone he had sat for emergencies – for both his day nighttime jobs – which, independent their previous commitments, was so deeply ingrained on their training that it would automatically have him and Dick rushing to the Batcave to prepare themselves for the fight that it was to come. Yet, the fact that it had a ringtone set was telling enough that it was not a purely ignorable matter.

Then he watched the way his pup (the pup, otherwise his inner omega might melt into a possessive scenting here and there and it would take hours to pry Dick from his arms and wouldn’t that be utterly embarrassing, Batman himself falling so easily out of control) kept stealing glances at him, not quite wiggling uncontrollably as small puppies ought to do when they were enthusiastic, but with a restlessness twitch in his movements that he always got when there was too much pent-up energy to stay still for long.

Ah.

Something Bruce didn’t even know was tight in his chest relaxed, the puzzles pieces finally forming an image in his mind.

The pup simply wanted to play, push his pack caretaker around a little, poke a few buttons, test a little and see where this all would take him.

Of course, Bruce would oblige.

Years of practice allowed him to move faster than the boy could hope to dodge and not even a second later there was a light pinch on his side. Dick jumped with a squeak, limps suddenly finding their strength again and mind running wild as he became aware of the fate he sealed to himself.

Dick tried to roll away, but before he could do more than fall on his back there were two large hands latching on his sides and masterfully covering every single ticklish inch of it with a series of squeezes and pinches that had him immediately shouting with giddy laughter.

“B! Don’t you da-ahare!”

Bruce only hummed. “Oh no, chum, it looks like you’re stuck here. Forever.”

Dick growled at the unfairness of having his words mirrored right back at him, but it held no heat with the chuckles that were already building up his chest. Each time Bruce’s skilled, pinching fingers found a new weak spot and latched it with a calm kind of precise tickles a piece of his barrier broke with louder, gigglier yelps.

It began downing on him just how much trapped he was in the nest of his own making.

“Gohohohoho away!” Dick kicked and a loud squeal of joy escaped his lips when Bruce suddenly pivoted him and dragged his back to his chest so he out be out of the kicking zone.

(Ha! As if Dick wasn’t able to maneuver just enough to hit him if he really wanted! … Not that he would do it now, of course, contrary to some old people he wasn’t a cheating cheater who used dirty tricks to win!)

“Gohohoho hahahahahave yohohohour stupid phone ca-AHAHAHAHALL!” Dick threw his head back with the force of his loud crackles, which may or may not be associated with the fact that Bruce decided to worm his hands to the top of his ribs and drill his fingers there. Huh, wonder how did that happen.

“But I can’t, remember, chum? We can only get out of here when we finish watching every single movie produced since the beginnings of time. That’s the rule.”

“IHIHIHIHIT’S NOHOHOT!”

Bruce sighed in profound sympathy. “I am afraid it is.”

Before Dick could reply with another protest (or threat), Bruce decided to torment him a little bit with the most terrible, horrible, absolutely illegal move where he rapidly dragged his fingers down his ribs to his hips, scratching around his hipbones and kneading his sides in sudden bouts that felt like electricity teasing his nerves only to so, so very slowly crawl his hands back to the top of his ribs, careful to dutifully give each bone their very fair share of prodding and tasering.

It never failed to make his pup absolutely lose his mind, his laughter jumping between excited thrills mixed with loud chortles and unstoppable anticipatory snickers as Dick scrambled and squirmed around in a poor imitation of a worm, clumsily enough to only escape from one squeezing tickle hand and fall immediately on ten scribbling fingers.

Poor lad.

Dick shrieked with a new round of crackles as the cycle repeated over and over again. His hands shoot to hold onto Bruce’s wrists and try to push them away. It was not unlike trying to move a mountain.

“BRUHUHUHUHUCE!”

The omega chuffed once in question, amusement laced in the tilt of his tune. Dick instinctively answered with a calling chirp that would be annoyed if it weren’t for the giggles that painted every mirthful hue of his sounds. Besides, the pup was too much preoccupied in becoming a mess of squeals and chortles to hide the pure bouts of bright sparkles on his scent.

The best way to describe Dick’s scent was light, in every sense. It felt like the spotlights that would follow a spectacle or the airy breeze that caressed your face after a successful maneuver. It was energy, it felt alive. It could grow heavy and electric as a thunderstorm when he was angry or popcorn buttery in popping like fireworks in excitement when he was happy, always followed by the undercut of powdered chalk, his primary scent, unchanged no matter what.

At this moment, the air was almost overtaking by the playful joy emanating from his scent.

It only grew stronger when Dick opened his bright eyes and shouted a bark of laugh in protest when Bruce, pretending his hand was a claw, began to slowly descend his wiggling fingers in the direction of the pup’s stomach. The pup began to squirm and kick even more, hiccup giggles being intertwined with puppish growls as Bruce let the anticipation grow and simmer amidst fake lunges.

“S-stohohop!” Another fake lunge and another giddy shout. Dick mocked a bite in his direction, then immediately snorted as Bruce used the advantage to nuzzle his unprotected neck. “Bruce! Thihihihis is unfahahahair!”

“I’m sorry, lad.” Bruce lowered his voice into a gruffy pitch he knew it made Dick automatically feel like there were zings of energy running across his every tickle spot and making 1000% more ticklish. The omega huffed and puffed on his ears, playfully growling in a manner that only fed the high pitched, fast-paced snickering. “But Bruce is no longer here. There is only…”

His hand hovered above his belly and he clawed the air. Once. Twice.

“The Tickle Monster!”

Then he attacked. A shrill squeal was took over by belly laughter, that loud kind that made your entire body shake with the force of it. It was Bruce’s most dear prize. He clawed and squeezed everywhere around his belly until crackles and snorts chased each other across the room.

Dick laughed, he shrieked and squirmed around as Bruce kept up the playful attack for a couple more of minutes, just enough for the phone call to end and they both fall on the quiet while stray snickers fell in squeaky bouts from the younger’s mouth.

His touch soon lost the tickly playfulness and became soothing, rubbing the shaking stomach firmly enough to only chase the ghost tickles away as his pup got his breath back in between remaining jumpy giggles.

As time passed with his delightful, excited pup, Bruce found easier and easier to fall in those precious, playful moments of him, full of care and pack. Whatever the call had been about he was sure Lucius could take care of it for a couple more of hours.

He grunted with surprise, however, when Dick abruptly sprang into a vicious attack of the previous offending hand. He curled around the limb, letting out fierce growls and light puppy bites as he nipped at his hand, one or two bunny kicks to the adult’s arm sealing the true ferocity of his revenge.

Bruce stared at Alfred, who had just arrived in the room with cups and a jar of refreshing lemonade, perfect to help young pups stay hydrated after playing around.

His voice was serious as he stared the old butler. “It looks like I am being eaten.”

“Oh dear.” Alfred remarked drily, not even looking up from his task. The corner of his eyes crinkled, however, with a hint of mischief that shone in fondness across their old bond. “As long as no food is spilled on the carpet. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the Raspberry Incident, would we, Master Bruce?”

The omega hummed in agreement, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a conspiring grin.

It was only when his free arm sneaked under the pup and pulled him closer to his face that Dick’s mind caught the trap expertly hidden in the old butler’s words, a loud chirp of betrayal mixing in his words.

“Alfred!! How could you- NO!”

Tickling little pups is so easy nowadays. Before you had to chase them all around a mansion and deal with broken chandeliers and jumping chums. Here all Bruce had to do was to take an exaggeratedly big breath and Dick was already shrieking high and loud in delight, body contorting impossibly as he tried to both push his face away and wiggle out of his grip but he was already tickled out and uncoordinated enough to do neither.

Bruce took his time taking out increasingly larger breathes only to let them go and start anew again. At each time, without fail, his puppy would screech and kick in his direction, both due the energy of anticipation that grew stronger and stronger which each waiting second and the mix of squeaking laughter that marked just how flustered and loopy he was getting with all the teasing.

“STOHOHOP PLAYING AROHOHOUND! ARG, WHY AREHEHEHE YOHOHOU SO-”

Bruce didn’t answer, yet his hands calmly sneaked a little skittering at Dick’s sides, successfully fishing another loud shriek and even more breathless giggling. The pup growled, adorably weak in between the snickers and yips, and tried to give his hand another pretend puppy bite, blissfully distracted.

An error one should never make around Batman

Bruce shoved his face on Dick’s belly.

The screaming laughter cut up the air was loud enough that it made the omega glad their closest neighbors were still yards away or else it wouldn’t have taken long for GCPD to knock on their door.

The strident sound was fast to blossom into silent laughter as Bruce made sure to press smaller, yet equally deadly, raspberries around his bellybutton, humming softly with each one and trying to not have his heart melt completely from his chest at how it made the silent crackles be interrupted by joyful squeals each time.

So, he gave him another, and another, then another raspberry, shrieks and silent laughter masterfully danced around the room in a playful song full of light, mirth and an energetic exhilaration.

“YOHOHOHOHOHOU SSSSUCK!”

Bruce crooned sadly, pulling another wheeze from Dick as he continued to nuzzle his stomach, being sure to tease every inch of the ticklish skin with the stubble he didn’t have time to shave this morning, lips twitching to keep another smirk concealed. He honed on that extra sensitive spot right under Dick’s bellybutton, giving it an extra tickly nuzzle and chuffing innocently as more and more high pitched, hiccupy titters shot across the room.

“You don’t want me to scent you anymore?” Another sad chuff, now slightly muffled as Dick valiantly tried to worm himself away from his arms while pushing his face away. “Now, is my puppy already too old for a pack scenting?”

His entire face exploded in red, almost as vibrant as the scent of popping popcorn and roasted peanuts that left the pup, both embarrassed and loved. His giggles became garbled with protesting squeals. “’M NOHOHO P-PUPPY!”

Dick kicked and wiggled more on the hold, which ended up with the upper part of his body falling from Bruce’s arms and his stomach pushed even closer to the killer nuzzles, something Bruce took full advantage.

“This can’t be right. Let’s check it over, hm?”

“NONONO”

A quick raspberry on an extremely ticklish bellybutton, followed by a squealing shriek.

“One puppy squeal. Check.”

Some nibbles on a couple of extremely ticklish lower ribs and a loud, mirthful high-pitched laughter. Important note: The nibbles must always be accompanied by plenty of growls of ‘onomnomnom’ sounds for maximum tickly effect.

“One puppy thrill. Check.”

Lots of gruff huffs mixed artfully with lots of nuzzles on every inch of a very ticklish neck until purring squeaks and chirps are tittered on your ears.

“This sound awfully like some puppy squeaks to me, chum. Lastly…”

Bruce snuggled the younger one under his chin, his rumbles so loud and fond they shook his entire ribcage, encouraging his pup’s answering purring, much to Dick’s chagrin. Especially since Bruce kept attacking his back with fluttering, wiggling fingers that had him burrowing even more on his chest with titters.

(And if he kept pressing the top of his head under his chin until the omega was scenting his head with fond-love-care-pack it’s the least Bruce owns him after being such a cheater.)

“One very ticklish, very squeaky young puppy. Check.”

His inner omega was preening with pride at his pup (the one made a mock nest in his lap, who trusted him to keep him safe, who let himself be the child that he was around him and play-) smelling like him, completely melted in the safety of his embrace.

He crooned once, satisfied.

That, of course, was the moment Dick decided to nip him on the shoulder and jump away from his arms. His smile was bright and fierce when he called Bruce with a challenging thrill, immediately dashing away with loud, childish laughter.

The omega huffed fondly, then turned to the old butler who was still calmly crocheting on the armchair, movie dutifully paused right in the middle, a scene after the whole tickly shenanigans started. With a muffled groan, Bruce got up, carefully transferring the mock nest to the couch.

(And if a content, soft chuff escaped him as he adjusted the fabric carefully to keep the structure intact, even if it would be probably be destroyed amidst the chase that was bound to happen, it was no matter. Alfred would, as always, keep his secret to the grave.)

“Who would say.” He remarked, amused, as he cracked his back, stretching his stiff muscles from staying too long sitting on the floor, cataloging the most likely hiding places Dick would follow. “It seems like I am no longer stuck, Alfred.”

“Seems like a true miracle, sir.”

[~*~]

Fun Facts, Notes and Etc!

Dick: Very affectionate, lots of sounds, lots of possessive growls. Gets easily annoyed when family want to step away from his cuddling/nest/affections ect ect.

LOTS OF PLUSHIES.

Sometimes he gets extra sensitive to scents when he is Deep In The Sauce which makes him Not Want That Scent Close of Him at All but still keen loud and sadly every time the person walks away because that is his FAMILY that is his PACK why are they leaving him :((( COME BACK.

Bruce spent lots of nights sleeping on the border of his son’s nest with just his arm inside the nest being fiercely cuddled by Dick because of this, growled every time he tried to get in and whined sadly every time he tried to leave.

Pls imagine once again Dick with bunny kicks absolutely KILLING the tickle hands DEAD <3 MANGLING BITING DESTROYING <3 <3 <3

Someday in the future:

“Oh Dick how did you become such a good tickle monster?”

Dick: *war flashbacks*

Dick: I was born this way ofc ;)

Img of the day: