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iphoenixrising · 6 years ago

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Hey Babe! What about Tim doing a strip tease and or lab dance for Jason and Dick? Love your writings 😘

Well, babe.

I mean, why not? Very nsfw ahead.

“I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate this,” Tim is saying as he bends over to stretch, thighs and calves tight with it.

It’s a fucking beautiful to be honest, but take into effect Timmy is wearing a cut-off tank, just barely covering his nipples, teamed with pair of killer black stilettos, thigh-highs with red bows, and a mouth-watering black thong while he stretches with perfect balance, pulling one leg up in the air behind him. He’s got black, lacey gloves on both hands, those fingers sliding up from the stretch at the back of his covered thigh and up almost to the delicious swell of his pale ass in those panties.

Jay just happens ta lookit over at Dickie, see how focused those baby blues on their very fine-as-fuck boyfriend.

it don’t help much that he’s already getting antsy and they ain’t even started yet.

“You know we’ll do whatever we can to help you with a case, Timmy.” Dick is saying, just running his yap, trying not ta shift his hips at the sight.

“That’s really great of you guys,” and Timmy’s beaming over at them when he stands up, drops the hoodie he’s wearin’ ta just leave ‘im in that fuckin’ tease of a shirt and hits something on his phone. The bluetooth speaker sparks to life with a little Pony from Genuwine while he stands in front of them on those stilts like he was born for it.

The red painted on his mouth and the smoky eye give him just the right look when he slinks up to Jay first, fluttering eyes and rolling hips on those ankle-breakers right in rhythm, licking his upper lip like a cat about to have a lil’ cream.

Vaguely, while his cock starts to pay the fuck attention behind his zipper, Jay can hear a low noise come outta Dickie what mean he’s invested, and the second Robin can’t help but lean up, lean in to their pretty third comin’ ta him just like this.

Neither Dick or Jay could have imagined the help Tim had asked for when he called from the Tower a few nights ago.

“I’m doing some…research for a case. I need to go undercover, but I need to make sure I’ve gotten the…character right.”

They expected a persona, another Caroline or Alvin, maybe someone more high-class, maybe someone closer to the mob side than the gangbanger.

They did not expect Tim to answer the door in a heels and thigh-highs, lips deep red to set off his eyes and pale skin. His scars flawlessly covered, so it was smooth, unblemished skin and the older vigilantes are immediately on this train, Timmy.

(”Show us whatcha got, baby.”

“One rule. You can’t touch.”)

Jay sucks in a breath when Tim drops to his knees and crawls the rest of the way to him, and it’s so much sexy writhing across the floor, he might just go a little stupid watching that ass. In perfect rhythm, Tim pauses to let his hips and ass work against the floor, popping on the down thrusts, shoving his ass back up like he’s takin’ and givin’ at the same time.

(Jay’s mouth literally waters thinking about it.)

A few sweet twerks, that jelly rolling while Timmy’s biting down on his lower lip, little nipples visible when the shirt hangs low enough. The creak of a chair is drowned out by the music, and Dick’s mouth fall open to pant.

A smile cuts across Jay’s face, and he kicks his leg open in welcome, already seeing what their boy is gettin’ inta.

Timmy takes him up on the offer (thank fuck) and moves, slides gloved hands up his thighs, slinking between them, hips a gentle sway to the music. And those hands work further up, lightly passing over the obvious bulge until he’s pressing his chest right there, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips.

It’s seamless when he works himself up to roll to his feet and turn on those heels, to rest his ass right in Jay’s fucking lap and writhe between those thick thighs. His hands fall back to the arm rests beside Jay’s so he can lean back, lay in the niche of Jay’s body, breathe over his jugular, roll against his trapped erection with tight little circles.

Jay groans into it all, has to clench his hands down on the arm rests tight to keep from touching. He can’t help but flex his thighs just a little, just enough to give them both a tease.

“Fuck, baby,” Jay fairly groans, wanting desperately to grip those hips, to pull down that naughty lil’ scrap a nothin’ and throw their boyfriend over the nearest flat surface n’ make ‘im scream. “Ya better not be thinkin’ a doing this with nobody but me n’ Big Wing, you feel me here?”

Tim responds by throwing a leg over so he can ride Jay’s thick thigh, leaning up to arch his back and start a smooth rhythm, rolling his hips, popping his ass, while looking over his shoulder with those dark eyes.

“Mmhm. I’m tracking some new drugs hitting the streets lately, and wouldn’t you know it, the place on North and 15th has been getting a lot of suspicious packages recently.” Without losing the beat, Tim leans himself back against Jay’s chest again, his legs so much longer with the killer heels, setting on either side of his thighs so Tim can work his ass right over the stiff erection, a sensual mock-fuck using the power in his calves, thighs, and hips.

Jay throws his head back and groans, his thighs getting taunt with tension, manages to turn his head and cast a tortured look at Dick, eyes half-mast with how good Baby Bird is at this.

Dick is biting down on his lower lip, watching the two of them, watching Tim pant with that red mouth, eyes bright with the liner and smoky tones, watching him undulate so beautifully, watches his cock get stiff in those tiny panties, barely anything hiding him from their eyes.

“I can honestly say,” he manages in response to Jay’s pupils dilating, those hands shifting on the arm rests, all of it telling Dick how close his other boyfriend is to breaking his leash, “you’ve really done your homework this time, Timmy.”

“‘Greed,” Jay grinds out, “real fucking effective, Baby. Gonna show ya how much, yeah?”

And the ends of Pony die down while Tim is laying on the floor by the silver pole he’d been planning on showing them next, but he’s too busy with his mouth full of Jay’s cock, red lips stretched around the girth, gloves hands moving up and down Jay’s thighs while he thrusts over and over and over.

He chokes slightly when Dick finally slides his fingers out and replaces them with what they both really needed in the first place.

Dick takes a long second to breathe and make sure he isn’t going to come too soon, hands tightening down on Tim’s thighs hard enough to probably bruise. He sighs out deeply, changing his grip when he starts to move slow, so slow, trying to drag out every second he can have Tim and Jay just like this.

“Ya know,” is a deep purr from Jay, the flecks of green in his eyes a darker jade while he cradles Tim’s neck and fucks his perfect mouth, “this place on North. Wonderin’ if they’re lookin’ f’ some muscle, you feel me, Big Wing?”

And the grin Dick gives him in reply is white in the night, Tim’s protests muffled with the cock in his throat. “I’ve had dancing experience. I could be with you on stage, Timmy. I bet we’d make better tips.”

“Fuck, two a’ ya t’gether? Tryin’ ta kill me, Dickie–”

“It would be so hot and you know it.”

“Didn’t say it wouldn’t, Baby Boy. But cha gotta understand what I’mma do if some ass clown lookits my boys the wrong way–”

“Mm! Mmm!” But even if he’s trying to protest his boyfriends stepping in on his case, he still pulls at the cheek of Jay’s ass to get more, to go deeper, hollowing his cheeks when he can.

Dick starts moving in longer thrusts, drawing almost all the way out of him before pushing hard and fast back in, making Tim’s cock leak through his panties with each hit to his spot.

“Looks like Baby Bird’s s’all right with the plan,” Jay teases on a moan, “but this show? S’just gonna be all for us, ain’t it?”

Dick pants out a whine, starting to feel the tingling low in his balls that’s getting harder to ignore with Tim wrapped tight and wet around him, with his thighs in the mesh stockings trembling under Dick’s hands.

“No one gets this. Just us. They can look all they want, but no one touches, do you understand, Timmy?”

And to make the point, they older vigilantes speed up, a bare hand sliding into his panties to fist him at the base and work him in time with their thrusts.

Tim’s throat tightens, the noises there when he gets stroked right nice.

“S’right. Gonna have ta fuck ya but good every time ya come off stage. Make sure ya remember who ya belong ta.”

“This is going to be the best case ever,” Dick grunts out, punctuating each word with a thrust back in.

Jay grunts, in agreement looking down into those half-mast eyes while Tim jerks in time with Dick’s fucking, throat working around Jay’s cock, making noises right at the tip. Their boy is past the point of fighting them, and that’s exactly what Jay likes to see.

When their boy tightens down, eyes fluttering, body arching, splattering those pretty panties wet, Dick makes a last lunge, crying out when he comes deep, and Jay falls over on his hand, filling his boy’s throat with stuttering hips, gripping the back of Tim’s neck while he does it.

And it’s all kinds of telling when they gather their fucked-out bird in a mess of limp limbs and stained satin. He’s laid out, boneless, the heels taken off with gentle hands, his instep rubbed, and the tights worked down his thighs. He doesn’t have to move an inch to help, can just watch out of hazy eyes whether it’s Dick or Jay getting him up and in the shower, fumbling hands and wet kisses, and the details come out while he’s soaping Jay’s broad back and Jay with both hands in Dick’s hair.

And if he’s smirking a little in some sweet satisfaction as the possessiveness there, chiming in when necessary when his boyfriends make a plan–

well, they wouldn’t see it anyway.

#THIS IS MY 1400th POST #and it's smut #timjaydick #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #good boyfriending #my drab #my writing #winter answers

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chibinightowl · 6 years ago

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On the Clock

For @iphoenixrising, because someone is going through a rough spell and could use some cheering up. Love you, dear!! Beta read by @themandylion.

~*~*~

The pile of folders lands on his desk with a resounding thud, one that’s too loud in the quiet office. Tim gives them a blank look, then raises his already exhausted gaze to his assistant. “What are those?”

“The rest of the Hennessy files you asked for.” Tam returns his stare with a tired one of her own.

“There were more?”

“Apparently.”

“Damn, this is going to take all night.” Tim scrubs a hand across his face. “And yes, I know this is what happens when I stretch myself too thin,” he adds before Tam can get a word in.

“You said it, I didn’t.” She removes the pitifully small pile of paperwork from his outbox. “Would you like me to order dinner for you?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to say no, that he has plans with Dick and Jason tonight, but those have just gone down the drain, along with any chance of falling into bed with his boyfriends. This acquisition is too important to WE and there’s only so much he can foist off on underlings before someone at his level needs to review things.

“Yeah,” Tim says with a sigh. “A bento from that little place on 5th and Washington would be great. I can eat those with one hand.”

“Sounds good. In the meantime, do you want a smoothie? I need to stretch my legs.”

He wishes he could too. “Yeah, something with spinach and kale in it. I don’t think I can stomach anymore coffee right now.”

Tam laughs as she heads toward the door, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. “I think that’s the first intelligent thing I’ve heard you say all week.”

Tim ignores her in favor of picking up his phone. The message he sends to Dick and Jason via their group text is short and to the point.

Something came up and I’m working late tonight. Have dinner without me.

He mutes the phone immediately after and places it facedown in a drawer. Out of sight, out of mind. He’s sure to be yelled at about it later, but those consequences are minor compared to what he’ll deal with if he doesn’t get this done.

Sighing, Tim settles in and gets to work.

~*~

Dick’s phone rings almost immediately after he reads Tim’s text.

“You see that message, Dickiebird?” Jason says in lieu of a greeting.

“I did.”

“What’re we gonna do about it? This is the third date in a row he’s pulled this shit on.”

Sighing, Dick runs a hand through his hair and stares blankly out his kitchen window. “I heard from Damian earlier that Tim’s struggling to keep up with things at WE. He sounded a little too gleeful about it.”

“Since when do we take the brat’s word for anything about Tim?”

“Since Alfred was right there and nodding along with everything he said.”

Jason growls low, clearly not happy with that bit of news. “Okay, so instead of punishment, how about we give our little bird some good, old-fashioned TLC?”

The thought of them taking it slow, dragging it out so that Tim can feel every single thing they do to him... Drink down his whines and moans and pleas for more.

“Yeah, I’m down for that. I’ll make a call to Lucius and see what I can find out about this particular project. If it’s got a legit deadline, then I don’t want to interrupt him.”

“Babe’s gotta sleep at some point,” Jason tries, but Dick is already shaking his head.

“He does, but if we’re the reason why he passes out in front of the board, then that’s on us for keeping him awake longer than he should be. I’ll call you back.”

“Fine.”

Dick chuckles at the put-out tone in Jason’s voice. Sounds like he has some plans of his own that he may need to redirect if things go south. The thought is not entirely unpleasant, but his body yearns for the third person who’s supposed to share his bed.

Swiping through his contact list, he finds the number he needs and calls it. “Hey, Lucius! It’s Dick. Do you have a couple minutes?”

Five minutes later, he hangs up and calls Jason back.

“The deadline is two days from now. What’s your plan?”

He can just see the razor-sharp grin on Jason’s face as he lays it out for him and he’s soon sporting one of his own. Tonight is going to be so much fun.

~*~

Tim shuffles the folder aside, wondering how this is even his life. He’s supposed to be Red Robin, not some glorified paper-pusher. It’s late, so late that even the cleaning crew has left, and his body screams for some rest. For a brief second, he contemplates a quick patrol to get the blood flowing again, but the smart side of his brain shuts that idea down before it takes root.

It would be just his luck that tonight he ends up as street-pizza. No thanks. He’s pushed his luck enough today with canceling on Dick and Jason. If they so much as catch a hint that he’s running the rooftop highway, they’ll be on him in nothing flat.

Stretching, Tim raises his arms high and rolls his head from side to side, loosening the kinks in his neck. A massage sounds wonderful, as does a hot bath. Sleep still wins out though and he yawns as he picks up the last file. Well, it’s not the last one in the pile Tam brought earlier, but it’s the last one he’s reviewing before calling it a night and taking the elevator up to the penthouse. This is one of those nights he’s grateful that he doesn’t have to go far.

Tim focuses on the file, reading through the report and trying to make heads or tails of everything. Words and numbers blur together, and he starts to think that maybe he should just put this one to the side and deal with it after a few hours of sleep. Those thoughts vanish as the overhead lights go out, leaving only the glow from his computer monitor and the wall of windows behind him to see by. He’s instantly on alert, hand groping under his desk for the collapsed bo staff hidden there.

Hands grab him from behind, yanking his arms out and around the back of his chair in a rough hold. “Ah, ah, ah, Timmers,” a familiar voice chides. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

It’s Jason.

Rather than relaxing him, Tim struggles harder. If he’s here, then that means Dick is too.

Fuck.

Read the rest on Ao3.

#chibinightowl writes #Tim Drake #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #TimJayDick #this gets very lemony very fast #can't believe I just called it a lemon #stupid tumblr #full fic on Ao3

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someone-nsfws-dc · 2 years ago

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Readers Beware, Batcest Is Here!

Suggestion box is open!

Characters I write for:

Ships I write for:

Universes I write in:

Fuck Yeses: Underage, Age Gap, Twincest, Bondage, Incest, Omegaverse, Mommy Kink, Daddy Kink, Piss Kink, Cervix Penetration, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Voyeurism, Polyamorous, Reverse Harem, Tenderness, tbd

Hard Nos: Scat, Brutal/Violent Rape, tbd

#masterpost #eventually i will add links to all of these but for now this is my pinned post #jaytim #jaydick #brujay #brudick #brutim #i'll figure out more Nos and Yeses along the way :)#superbat #jayroy #timdick

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jasontoddspussy · 7 months ago

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It happened after another near-death experience, where they were just desperate for comfort, to feel each others heartbeats. Then it happened again after too many beers.

They aren't in a relationship, nor have their relationship with each other really changed. Sometimes it's just nice, feeling another body close to yours and hey, sometimes you just gotta take one for the team and give your bro an orgasm. It's pure stress relief.

Jason can do fucking. He can do sex. They don't always fuck together, sometimes it's just two of em. Sometimes it's through the phone. It's comforting, that they have each other like that, seeing as they're all pretty touch starved vigilantes and sometimes you just need someone else to help you in the shower so you feel less alone. Strangers wouldn't work, none of them could let their guards down enough for that, not to mention Jason's sheer magnitude of scars.

And then he realises that he doesn’t just want to fuck, actually. He wants to /date/ them. Which, great. How in the hell is he going to do that? Wine and dine two of the smartest guys he knows?

Who cares about the whole brothers thing, they're all criminals anyways. The real problem is going to romance those idiots.

Best he gets started, then.

Or; AU where Jason, Dick and Tim fuck sometimes as stress relief, and Jason realises he'd like to actually date his brothers, except when it comes to romance Jason gets flustered imagining holding hands.

shenanigans ensue.

#timjaydick #jaytimdick #dickjaytim #jaytim #dicktim #dickjay #jaydick #jason todd #dc #batman #tim drake #dick grayson #batfam #fic prompt

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youhavelessproof · 1 year ago

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Dick/Tim is not my usual flavor but there really is something special about the idea of both Tim and Jason pining so hard after Dick.

he's not oblivious so he's going to notice, but he is going to overthink the ever-living shit out of it and come to an incorrect conclusion.

Tim and Jason are too busy fighting to realize.

#I feel the need to clarify that I very much see Tim as an adult #anyway #jaydick #dickjay #timdick #dicktim #?? idk #timjay #timjaydick #ahh???#dickjaytim #jaydicktim #batcest #moon's ship talk

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n1ightw1ng · 6 months ago

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Jason grins wolfishly, eyes dancing to Tim, who’s red-faced and pressed into Dick’s bosom. He ducks to lick at Dick’s ear. “You want me to give you another pup, mama? Want me to fuck you in your nest, with your puppy here?”

Dick and Jason finally hook up. It sends him into a nesting frenzy, which Jason foolishly tries to remedy by bringing along a pup who isn't a pup at all anymore.

#timjaydick #dickjaytim #jaytimdick #saltwaterwrites

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ao3feed-jaydick · 2 years ago

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i wanna shine on in the hearts of men (i want a meaning from the back of my broken hand)

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52267615 by saltwater_oracle Robin’s in love with the other Robins. Roman Sionis will do anything to destroy Red Hood. The Waynes think they’re protecting Tim’s mental health, but the only person who knows what he needs is Harley-freaking-Quinn. And to top it all off, someone’s framing Nightwing for serial homicide. Tim needs a fucking vacation…from life. But he’s never going to get it. He needs to go back home and get his head on straight, but he just might burn this place to the ground before he ever gets there. Harley tilts her head so her cracked glasses fall down her nose. “I’m a therapist, Timmy, you can tell me anything.” Tim of a few weeks earlier would have said something snippy like: What, where’s the entrance to the Batcave? But he’s not that Tim anymore. Something critical snapped like a suspension wire, and no one was there to keep the bridge from crashing into the water. “I don’t really want to commit crime,” he says, slowly, “but it’s the only thing—” “—That feels like something,” she finishes. “Right?” “Yeah. Like I’m a bad kid. And the whole world’s Daddy.” Kinda-sequel to it is possible to survive this, but not unaltered. Words: 5899, Chapters: 2/10, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Harleen Quinzel, Stephanie Brown, Roman Sionis, Killer Croc Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Harleen Quinzel Additional Tags: timjaydick but trust me on the timharley. it's necessary, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Tim Drake Whump, Dick Grayson Whump, Tim Drake Angst, Rape Aftermath, Vomiting, Abandonment, Tim Drake-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Catharsis, Public Humiliation, tim and harley are self actualized manic pixie dream girls, Cuddling & Snuggling, Broken Bones, Angst with a Happy Ending, Loss of Identity, dick gets framed for murder btw. if you even care, Smut, Tim Drake is So Done read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52267615

#IFTTT #AO3feed #Jaydick #DC

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ao3feed-jaytim · 2 years ago

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i wanna shine on in the hearts of men (i want a meaning from the back of my broken hand)

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52267615 by saltwater_oracle Robin’s in love with the other Robins. Roman Sionis will do anything to destroy Red Hood. The Waynes think they’re protecting Tim’s mental health, but the only person who knows what he needs is Harley-freaking-Quinn. And to top it all off, someone’s framing Nightwing for serial homicide. Tim needs a fucking vacation…from life. But he’s never going to get it. He needs to go back home and get his head on straight, but he just might burn this place to the ground before he ever gets there. Harley tilts her head so her cracked glasses fall down her nose. “I’m a therapist, Timmy, you can tell me anything.” Tim of a few weeks earlier would have said something snippy like: What, where’s the entrance to the Batcave? But he’s not that Tim anymore. Something critical snapped like a suspension wire, and no one was there to keep the bridge from crashing into the water. “I don’t really want to commit crime,” he says, slowly, “but it’s the only thing—” “—That feels like something,” she finishes. “Right?” “Yeah. Like I’m a bad kid. And the whole world’s Daddy.” Kinda-sequel to it is possible to survive this, but not unaltered. Words: 2779, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Harleen Quinzel, Stephanie Brown, Roman Sionis, Killer Croc Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Harley Quinn, Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Additional Tags: timjaydick but trust me on the timharley. it's necessary, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Tim Drake Whump, Dick Grayson Whump, Tim Drake Angst, Rape Aftermath, Vomiting, Abandonment, Tim Drake-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Catharsis, Public Humiliation, tim and harley are self actualized manic pixie dream girls, Cuddling & Snuggling, Broken Bones, Angst with a Happy Ending, Loss of Identity, dick gets framed for murder btw. if you even care, Smut, Tim Drake is So Done read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52267615

#IFTTT #Ao3feed #Jaytim #DC

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lazaruspiss · 2 years ago

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#dicktimjay #dickjaytim #jaydicktim #jaytimdick #timdickjay #timjaydick #THE WOES OF POLY SHIPS

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iphoenixrising · 6 years ago

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For 700 Followers!

Hi babe. Ah, you know, I think we could really work something out because if there’s anything I like, it’s Tim trying to have the I am an island attitude with clingy, needy Bat Alphas right on his tail ;) Tbh, I wrote this once and it got lost, so I cried, but I’m going to give it another shot!

Also, just saying but there was also a short thing done about *ahem* toys in this au, and you’ll probably find a similar theme X

There is nothing worse than water in your fucking boots.

Seriously.

His impromptu dip in the harbor was completely worth the pain in the ass because Two-Face is going to live to see another day, and he even acted less crazy than normal when he was handcuffed by GCPD, quiet while he was taken away in the back of a squad car.

The best part? The villain told him he was glad he hadn’t filled him full of holes after all. Red Robin is going to take that as a win.

And since his sleuthing is done for the night, he can go back to his Perch in Gotham City and get out of these wet clothes and put his damn boots by a heating vent to dry out a little.

He feels good enough about the night to order a pizza and do his notes while a slice is hanging out of his mouth when dry clothes are a thing.

He has a fan turning lazily, trying to keep himself cooled down because the Heat symptoms just started to manifest while he was riding back from the take-down (all that wind rushing by while he’s in a wet suit and still he’s starting to get hot? Seriously, body, stop making shit harder on him).

The pre-Heat could take up to three hours before the main event starts, and he at least wants to get the notes done and go blackout before it happens.

He’s got a bunch of Gatorade and power bars from two weeks ago when Jay and Dick pretty much showed up just in time for him to go full blown. Luckily, Dick had picked up more on the way to his Perch since the God-forsaken sixth sense had struck again. Somehow, maybe some Pack Alpha instinct, Dick had known he was going to need them, and true to form, the last Heat had been particularly vicious, his body in physical pain when he was empty.

(And no, he doesn’t need a reminder how nice Dick and Jay were about it when he was literally fucking crying. Geeze, things he doesn’t need people to see for 100 Alex.)

Which means he should have been good for a month and a half, but Leslie had warned him going this long on suppressants would have some effects on him biologically. She’d mentioned he could have two Heats back-to-back as a sign his body is starting to regulate like any normal Omega. So, really, this pain-in-the-ass is his own fault anyway.

Notes done, he logs out of BI’s mainframe and shoots the Titan’s a quick message, In Gotham. Perfectly safe. Going to sleep for 24-36 hours. Don’t freak out about the blackout mode, and shuts down his main system in preparation.

Barefoot, he pads around to shut off the lights and fans, grabs a Gatorade, starts pulling his nerd shirt off on the way to the bedroom. Security in lockdown and he’s starting to feel the burn just a little bit more.

Not long now. Damn, hopefully this will be fast and furious.

A locked box in the back of the closet is deposited by the bed, his thumb print accepted. He shifts through the unopened packages until he gets the red one and the blue one out, laying them on the bed to open before the round of fuck my contingencies ramps up.

(His face is hot, and not because of the pre-Heat. The two knotting dildos were purchased when he started thinking one night about what he was going to do when his body started regulating out, so Dick and Jay wouldn’t need to play Alphas to his Omega anymore. Ironically, the two toys reminded him of their knots anyway, and he’d been guilty as fuck buying them.)

He’s already started sweating lightly and jumps in the shower to wash off Gotham Harbor.

His phone goes off while he’s drying himself off, shifting his weight because his abdomen is already starting to get tight and uncomfortable in anticipation.

The message on his phone makes him groan/sigh because the Red Hood is wondering:

Jaybird: How was the swim?

There’s more laughing emojis than he realistically needs.

In just boxers, Tim plops down on his bed, taps his phone to decide whether or not to respond. Since they already knew he’d taken down Two-Face, he really doesn’t have options.

Me: nice this time of year. Btw, Harvey didn’t drown. That’s a win for the good guys.

Before he’s done, the ellipsis meaning someone is typing shows up, so he’s got himself in a world of trouble by answering. Natch.

(On the other hand, his Omega whispers, if you hadn’t messaged back, they might come looking for you. It preens at the thought of his Pack Alphas concerned for him, coming for him– Dammit. Not. The. Time.)

Jaybird: Oughta come 2 the Manor. Al made pizza. Can celebrate?

Well, shit.

Me: Thanks 4 the invite. Running time-sensitive diagnostic for the Titans and crashing. See you at the next VA meeting tho.

Okay. So, normal. Jay will understand the need for fighting crime.

Jaybird: No problem. We’ll bring you some.

Fuck. Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck.

Me: Nah. Not tonight. Gonna set this up and crash. The alarm will wake me when the analysis is done. Enjoy the pizza!

Jaybird: If you’re sure?

Me: Positive. Sleep is calling. GN.

And turns off his phone with a sigh of unmitigated relief.

Crisis averted.

Right?

Forty-five minutes later, he’s idly eating popcorn and watching Infinity War when a wave of blistering heat washes over him, and the gentle reprieve is finally done.

His cock is hard and aching within a moment, his hands fisting in the blanket under him, hips jerking. The soft, subtle scent of slick tickles the edges of his senses, his ass starting to get moist under his boxers.

But Tim has old memories of doing this alone back when he was still in the tunic, and he forces himself to breath past the initial stages, fists his hands even tighter to keep from touching himself yet. He remembers how much better the orgasm was when he held off for as long as he could, remembers the time between waves lasted longer.

He bites down on his lower lip to keep in the noises (but really, what is the point?) and tries to just keep thinking.

He shoves the unopened boxes over and sprawls out on his back, trying not to let anything other than his boxers touch his aching erection. His thighs tighten, legs spreading automatically, feet bracing to work his hips a little.

It’s fine. You’ve done this before isn’t really that much of a consolation.

With the fire in his body starting to get more and please and Oh God, his mouth falls open to pant, toss his head back and forth with the arousal building, making his belly get tense.

An abrupt cramp knocks the wind out of him ending on a small, helpless noise that inadvertently escapes.

Rolling on his side, curling in on himself, Tim forces himself to just fucking breathe through it, it won’t last forever.

–when the comm on his desk blips, and the tinny voice is just loud enough to get his attention over things like terribly thought-out biology.

(Everything in you is screaming for an Alpha to help, touch, soothe. It’s not really your fault.)

“If you’re asleep, don’t get up. We’re just going to drop off pizza and we’ll be out of your Perch-”

Which is nothing short of fucking horrific.

“Almost goddit, Dickie,” is lost when another sharp cramp makes him huddle further into the pain rippling over his upper body while his brain screams to just fucking move.

The scent of slick gets stronger, clogging up the room, and the door isn’t even locked–

The next cramp makes his muscles flutter, but he can wobbly-leg it to the door and collapse in front of it.

(I was stabbed in the fucking spleen and still saved Pru. Without Ra’s, I would have been dead soon after, but if I can do that, I can get through this.)

He flips a small panel on the door frame and presses his thumb into it, forehead braced on the wall while he grits his teeth and gets a second or two of his muscles easing back.

Tim focuses on breathing, listening, and sure enough, there’s a timid knock a few minutes later. The door knob wiggles once softly, nearly inaudible voices mumble back and forth while he holds his breath.

He thinks he might be in the clear when it goes quiet again, thinking maybe they’d gone to dump the pizza in his fridge and be on their way out.

But a very clear, “do you smell what I smell?” is the proverbial nail in his coffin.

“Timmy? Are you…awake?”

“Please go away, I’m…I’m trying to sleep.” Tim tries again, more desperate now that hearing his Alphas’ voices is hitting all the deep places in him where the Omega hides.

“Don’t smell like it, Sweets. Think maybe ya mighta forgot ta mention something ta yer Alphas?”

(You aren’t mine. This is just about fucking Pack dynamics and bullshit biology. It’s fine, he gets it.)

“Hey,” and Dick’s voice is low and loud enough to be heard, and Tim slaps a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t whimper. “It’s okay. It’s us, Tim. We can make it better if you just open the door. You know we can, don’t you.”

It really isn’t a question, and Dick doesn’t pretend to make it one.

His abdomen spasms and he’s rolling his forehead against the wall in denial because fuck, haven’t they done enough? He’s not going to die, and, seriously, he’s a shitty Omega anyway.

“It’s not Heat Mania,” he tries to be reasonable, proud of himself when his voice only cracks once or twice, “I can get through it by myself this time. Y-You two just gave up five days a few weeks ago.”

The hand goes back over his mouth and his boxers are getting wet now, the way he’s curled in on himself probably not helping the situation.

Voices talking too low for him to make out again.

“Seriously, it’s fine. You guys got me out of danger. This? This is just business as usual. B is out of Gotham and you can’t be here for that long–”

“–B called in the Birds of Prey ta help out while he’s out wid’ the League,” Jay breaks through his ramblings. “We got Rob n’ BG. Cass is in fer a visit, and a trio of ass kickers. Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout Gotham, Timmers. Shit’s all kinds a handled.”

The door knob wiggles again, making him gasp because shit, if anyone could crack his fingerprint locks, it’s probably the Red Hood.

“So. That’s not an excuse to go through your Heat alone,” Dick cuts in, sounds more ragged and raw, the Pack Alpha coming out in him. “There’s honestly no reason for you to go through it by yourself at all because your Pack is supposed to take care of you. And we are here to do just that, Tim.”

And fuck he does (and doesn’t) want to.

(It really is going to hurt like a motherfucker when it’s all over with, isn’t it?)

And while Tim Drake could give them a hundred different excuses, could explain it away a hundred different ways

(“I don’t want my Omega to get used to having Alphas. That just makes my Heats more difficult. Please understand.”)

–he, Tim, not the Omega, really doesn’t want to.

(Oh yeah. He’s figuratively fucked. Literally fucked to possibly follow.)

He’s already reaching up to thumb at the panel again before he realizes what he’s doing and pauses, sighs at his own weakness.

And like they can feel him hesitate, the heavy musk finally gets to him from under the door. The combination of Dick and Jay and the Alpha instinct to soothe.

“Please, Timmy, Baby. Please let us in.” Dick says to the door, hands braced on the door frame outside, staring a hole right through the damn thing because he really wants to say is please let us love you.

Jay is nudged tightly against his back, peering over his shoulder with those precious few inches of extra height.

“S’all right, Timmers,” Jay’s deep voice rolls past his ear when his second leans over to talk closer, simultaneously sliding a hand over Dick’s hip, finger making soothing circles around the bone. “Ya know we love it when yer all pretty n’ pink fer us, yeah? Heat makin’ ya bite yer lip n’ flutter yer eyes when we get ta touch. N’ ya know how much we like it, don’t cha? Ya know it don’t matter how long it needs ta be, ‘er how much needin’ ya got saved up inside. Ya know the only thing what matters is how perfect ya are under our hands n’ mouth, yeah?”

Dick smirks at the tactic, turning just enough to get close to Jay’s face and shove their mouths together in a quick kiss.

His mate and second just grins right back, his down ‘n dirty one.

“Wadda ya say, Sweets? Gonna have mercy on these two ole’ Alphas? Let us be good, n’ take care a’ ya like we oughta?”

There’s a low noise, something muffled by the door, but Dick’s muscles tighten against the front of Jay’s body, putting the other Alpha right on point.

“Sounds like–” pain.

Jay just nods, staring intently at the door, fingers tapping over the hilt of this .45 like he’s thinking of taking the easy way inside. “Starting up awful fast, ain’t he, Alpha?”

“Leslie said something about double Heats while his body is getting back under control,” Dick reminds him absently. “I’m hoping this is the only one he’s experienced so far.”

Jay hums a little, “you n’ me both. Don’t like ‘im hittin’ two ina month. Too much strain.”

“Agreed, but we–” and Dick gets cut off by the sudden, powerful scent hitting them right in the instincts. The Alpha in them knows what a spike that sudden means.

Dick turns to make one last plea to the door, please, Baby, you don’t have to do this alone, before they would have to go. If Tim was that adamant, they wouldn’t hack the door to get to him, to force him to accept them during his Heat, but if he caught their scents, it could make the cycle more painful (“The inner Omega will pine for an Alpha. Scents will not help, but make the [sic] situation worse. An Alpha should vacate the premises if an Omega in Heat does not belong to him or her”). To keep it from being so much worse, they’d have no choice but the leave.

The possibility sticks in Dick’s throat, makes Jay rumble out a low whine.

But the telltale click resounds, kills the words in Dick’s mouth before they get out.

It’s a breath when he and Jay step over the threshold, kneel by the (their) pained Omega, warm hands and soothing touches, purring a low reverberation that makes Tim’s spine uncurl when Dick gathers him up and lifts. Jay is back with more Gatorade and power bars, throwing off his jacket and holsters while Dick kicks off his shoes and straddles Tim on the bed, leans closer to start kneading out the muscle spasms and nuzzling against Tim’s throat gently, soothingly.

“Ssshh, sshh, it okay Timmy. We’re here.” And Dick tilts his head just a little so his throat is visible and his scent gland right there if Tim wanted to give him and bury his face there.

(He totally does. Stupid fucking instincts.)

And Dick’s hands are warm, the pressure just enough to work out those muscles, to make the pain ease down. At one point, Tim had wrapped a hand around Dick’s forearm to have something grounding.

“You don’t have to do this,” is low and soft, “it isn’t going to be bad this time. Just a normal Heat. I can handle it. I have handled it.”

Jay takes a knee beside the bed, reaches over to direct Tim’s gaze with a forefinger under his chin. “Timmers,” is more stern than he’s used to hearing from the Red Hood, “like me n’ Dickie dunno how much ya can handle? Like we dunno how much ass ya can kick? C’mon, give us a little credit, yeah?”

Tim’s eyes get more dazed with all the stimulus hitting him right in the Omega instincts, blinking hazily at Jay kneeling there. “Seriously, I’m a shitty Omega, and neither of you need this. It’s bad enough you gave up a week already this month.”

“I told you,” Dick counters serenely, hands pausing, “that you are not a bad Omega. I would have thought during your last Heat you would have gotten that.”

They can both see Tim swallow, his eyes dart away, clearly disbelieving but not calling them on their bullshit.

Dick’s inner Alpha curls around his insides, wanting nothing more than to flop on the pretty Omega and pin him down until he cries uncle and finally believes in them, wants nothing more than to stick his nose in the sweet scent gland and never move, wants to hear Tim say it, just once–

“I’m yours, aren’t I Alpha?”

–but there’s no room for that yet. Not here, not now. Someday soon when Tim stopped giving into his instincts to hide and protect himself. Even if the Omega in him had accepted their Alphas, it still drew back, remembered the pain they both caused at one time or another.

And Dick understood. As Pack Alpha, he can scent more keenly, as a detective, he can put all the evidence together with the spikes of adrenaline, the quickening of a pulse, the flinch when certain things are brought up in casual conversation.

(Someday, he thinks fiercely, nuzzling into Tim’s jugular, while the knots under his hands ease down, you are going to forgive us, and everything is going to finally be okay.)

He huffs a little when Jay kneels by the bed, hands folded to rest his chin and watch. Timmy’s head flops over, the lines around his eyes still prominent with pain and the ingrained struggle not to just give in, and Jay trails his fingers lightly over the hand fisted in the sheets.

“Hey, hey. S’all right now, ain’t it, Baby?” He keeps it low and deep, lets it end on a nice purr. Inching the hand over, closer to his mouth, “an’ ta think, y’ weren’t gonna let me n’ Dickie here fer this? Tryin’ ta punish us, are ya?”

“Wh-What?! What are you even–”

Dick’s hand on his shoulder stops Baby Bird from sitting up, his cheeks gettin’ pink ‘cause he get all embarrassed ‘bout it.

(And fuck ain’t it cute.)

Big Wing smirks a little and leans up, gives Jay some room. He takes all he can, rising up on his knees, turning his jaw a little so his musk is stronger, getting fuller. He gets to wrap a palm around that wrist, pinning it lightly when he hovers over Tim’s wide eyes, makes him face this, face him, face them.

“Ya already know it, don’t cha, Timmy?” Low and growly against his mouth, flick of a tongue over his bottom lip, “how much ya make us want, yeah?”

And since Jason Todd is a man what knows how Tim reacts to being touched, how he gets so sweetly slick and ready, how needy and soft he can whine, knows that as much as Timmy says he don’t need this, need them, his body don’t agree with it.

It’s how he n’ Dickie can tell when Timmy is lyin’ ‘cause it’s the Omega what tells them the truth.

It’s why Jay can purr and nuzzle, can lean in and take his mouth like he owns it. When Tim makes a noise, arches his back, Jay knows Dick is mouthing at him, right below where his palms are rubbing, licking the line between boxers and skin.

Pullin’ back just makes Timmy chase his mouth, eyes half-mast and cheeks just the right shade of pink.

“See that, Sweetheart? How pretty y’ are? An’ ya weren’t gonna let us be here fer it? ‘M hurt over here.” And he purrs against the tendon in Tim’s neck, just the sharp edge of teeth teasing down to his collarbone.

“Th-that’s not–!”

“But it is, Timmy,” Dick fills in soothingly, mouthing at the waistband of his boxers. “You weren’t going to let us have this.”

“Dammit that isn’t–”

“Sshh,” and Jay presses a kiss back to his throat, right below the scent gland, “s’all right. We f’give ya, Sweets. ‘Cause we’re here now, and that’s what matters, you feel me?”

Tim finds it in him to brace a hand against Jay’s shoulder, pushing him back just enough to be able to think around the heat pooling in his stomach, lighting his body with need.

“It isn’t like that!” He tries, he really does, stares into those eyes with green flecks faded away. “It–this–it’s just!”

Dick finally seems to have enough, knee walking up so he and Jay could loom over the squirming Omega, both of them facing him down.

“At first, it was because of the Heat Mania, Timmy,” Dick’s voice is low and firm, “but it stopped being about that for me in the first five minutes.”

Jay purrs at him softly, “like I’d keep comin’ back ta ya if’n it was only ‘cause a’ biology, Timmers. Like you think I don’t see this fine as fuck ‘Mega right ‘chere needin’ an Alpha? Like I don’t want a piece a’ ya?”

That is...so not what he anticipated tonight once he’d given the Alphas an appropriate out. The admission makes his heart thump painfully in his chest, a jolt of fear slithering through his brain pan at all the implications of this–

–that would fully set in later on after his body stops trying to literally kill him with sex.

Because it’s enough of a push, this moment when scents are so fucking sincere and they’re looking at him with heat and affection, and he wants so desperately to believe. It’s enough to make the Omega in him rear up past his barriers and bullshit masks, for the whine, the call to his Pack, to his Alphas, to spill out of his mouth without holding back.

Fuck.

Because even though it’s a rough, soft sound, something he’d never been able to let himself do before now, not with all the secrets he’d had to keep, it makes some of the tightness in his chest ease down to finally be able to let it out, let his instincts take over.

In the form of a whine, a call to his Alphas. His Omega could finally stop mourning being left out of the Pack.

So he’s completely unprepared for Dick and Jay to react so distinctly to that noise, for them to bury their faces in his throat and lick along both sides until the kiss of teeth along his collar bone becomes a bloom of pain and sinks deep into his subconscious. It’s not (and he gasps in a hard breath just thinking about it, about either of them biting down on the back of his neck instead…) to mate him or make him submit, it’s just marks made to show ownership, to show Pack, and his eyes might get a little hot and full with it while the Omega in him rolls over to show its’ belly to the (his) Alphas.

And it’s something he’s been wanting for so long, the confirmation that he’s no longer the outcast, the Omega without a place. During the long road to come back to Gotham, back to the Bats, he hasn’t let himself sink into the depression that hit back when his tunic was yanked out from under him, leaving him hanging.

With the indents of teeth along his collarbone, with the distinct Alpha scent on his neck, the assurance he’s been claimed as their Pack Omega for anyone to see, is enough to make him close his eyes tight to keep from fucking crying. Instead, he distracts himself by lifting both arms around his Alphas to hold on while they lick across the indents of their teeth, soothing the sting.

He doesn’t let himself panic when they move on from marking him, when Jay is licking into his mouth and Dick’s hands are spreading his thigh, long-fingered hand cupping his straining erection.

He keens with it, back arching at the onslaught, his inner Omega sated with the marks on his body, languishing in the attention of his Alphas.

It’s so easy to fall under their spell, to put himself in their hands, and just give in. If they weren’t so damn careful and easy with him when he needs it that way, if they didn’t fuck him dirty and rough when it needed it that way instead, if they didn’t purr against his chest and lick at the marks, if they didn’t talk low against the back of his neck, if they didn’t hold the hell on when all he wanted to do is run.

Hands that know how to make him writhe, are busy smoothing up the sides of his thighs and over his abdomen, Jay and Dick trading places with his mouth. Thumbs make small circles on his nipples, makes them peak, makes the spark of pleasure shoot down his spine straight to his aching cock, while he keens in Dick's mouth.

“Uh-oh,” hazily gets through the heat pooling in his belly, in his blood, lighting his nerves on fire. “Looks like we have some competition, Jaybird.”

Fuck.

And Dick is leaning up on his knees, holding up the blue knotting dildo after he’d snatched it from the blankets, looking it over with a critically assessing expression–

Then those eyes slide over to the Omega spread out on the bed beneath them, the one smelling like a bakery, the one that needed him, needed them to take care of him.

“I told you, I can handle my Heats.” His face is going red and not because of the whole lot of naked happening beside the bed where Jay is stripping off the body suit.

“Mmhm,” and Dick widens his knees, spreading Baby Bird’s legs wider, puts the toy by his calf so he can be the one to use it on Timmy (and he is very interested on seeing how much of it his Omega can take before he’s screaming for the real deal).

The other Alpha’s eyes shoot to the subtly covered splash of red almost by the wall, and one brow quirks up as a side to the smirk on Jason Todd’s face.

“Dickie. Ya’ thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If it’s to fuck him with these things until he cries, then yes. I’m on board with that plan, Little Wing.”

“Good t’ see we’re on’a same page, you feel me here?”

The oldest vigilantes exchange a heated glance, the message clear from that look alone:

Time to teach Timmy a lesson and get to have him at the Same. Damn. Time.

Two Robins with one stone.

Jay is already crawling over Tim to lay on the other side while Dick moves fast, climbing off to shimmy out of his clothes until he’s in black briefs, coming right back to the perfect spot between the third Robin’s clenched thighs. He grins, already deciding on a plan, while Jay pins both wrists above their bird’s head, preparing him for the on-coming torture.

And when this cycle is done, when they’ve both had turns teasing him between waves with the toys he’d purchased, fucking him fast and rough or slow and soft until their knots throbbed to be buried in him, when they’ve made Tim give in to them, over and over, made him beg for their cocks, promised to always call next time no matter what. When he’s so overwork, overstimulated, a trembling, babbling, crying pile of please fuck me before I die.

When they make the lesson stick.

(“Never gonna need ‘em again. Ya gotch us, n’ ya better damn well call b’for ya use it again. Do you feel me, Baby?”

“These are last resort only, Tim. You only get to use these after you’ve called both of us and not because of a case or checking in on Gotham.”

He’d only been stupidly grateful all three of them could fit in his tub at the time, water lapping lazily around him, caught on Jay’s lap with his leg in Dick’s, hands on his ankle and calf under the water. He was dozing and utterly fucking destroyed, which is the only reason he agreed to it in the first place, dammit. They took advantage of fucking him completely out.

(Alphas. Of fucking course.)

But this time, after they’d been so fucking thorough in showing him where his place with them really is, Red Robin can’t help but wonder if it’s more than just a bunch of Alphas taking care of the Pack Omega. If all the sweet things Dick growls in his ear is more than just hormones and Pack Alpha lizard brain. He wonders if Jay’s dirty talk doesn’t stem from some messed up sense of guilt or responsibility from back when they were just, you know, trying to kill one another. Or, Jay was trying to kill him and Red was really just trying not to die.

He wonders if it isn’t just a matter time until his body regulates.

He wonders if they know what they’re doing to him when they act like he’s theirs.

He wonders how far they’re going to go.

(A part of him is terrified to find out.)

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