Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The crushed pills go into Tim’s glass of milk, blending easily into the white beverage. It’s the first thing the boy reaches for the moment he sits at the table. 

No morning platitudes, no precious greeting smile, just an outstretched hand searching to sate a parched throat. Tim chugs, his throat bobbing with each mouthful, and when the glass is put back to the table, it’s done with a satisfied gulp of air. 

“Morning, Bruce,” Tim says finally, slipping into his seat. 

“Tim,” Bruce replies, finishing his coffee. “You’re late.” 

Tim sighs, already listing as a slow fist rubs at his sleep-flushed cheek. “I didn’t hear my alarm.” 

Bruce suppresses a smirk alongside the knowledge of being the one to disable Tim’s first few alarms. It’s what his boy deserves after performing so well in his sleep. He came on Bruce’s tongue three times without waking. 

Eagerly, Bruce watches the drug take effect. Tim starts blinking slower and slower, his chin drooping as drool gathers at the corner of his mouth. He makes a confused sound, body melting forward until his cheek presses to the table and he sighs into sleep. 

With a restraint that he has trained for decades, Bruce finishes his breakfast before sliding his chair back and rounding the table. He lifts Tim’s pliant body easily, the little, lithe thing that it is, and cradles him to his chest like a babe. 

Despite having fucked Tim with his tongue through most of the night, Bruce woke this morning with the desire for more. Specifically, he craves more of Tim’s limp, open body, the way it flops as Bruce commands it, held in place in whatever position Bruce wants. He’d been careful last night, aware that doing too much would see his boy blinking awake. 

Now, dropping Tim onto the bed he hadn’t bothered to make that morning, he doesn’t have to hold back. The dosage was carefully calculated to keep Tim under until the late afternoon. That gives him hours to do with Tim whatever he wants. 

He starts with stripping Tim’s body. He yanks the sleep shorts off, exposing a slightly swollen, rosy pink pussy, hairless and glistening. Shot through with immediate arousal at the sight, Bruce unceremoniously rips Tim’s shirt off, letting it flop down him like a blanket. 

“No panties?” Bruce murmurs. Not an issue. Actually, this is ideal. 

Stepping away from Tim’s star-fished figure, Bruce goes into the very back of his closet to grab a few things. Returning to his boy, Bruce sets the clothes at the foot of the bed and crawls eagerly between Tim’s legs. 

He kisses the lips of Tim’s pussy, a greeting as much as a memory, and then he licks between them, tasting where Bruce left his come a few hours ago, right at Tim’s entrance. It’s easy to fuck his tongue back in, to thrust it deep and feel Tim unconsciously clench around the soft intrusion. 

Bruce doesn’t eat Tim out for long or even very thoroughly. He has something else in mind for this morning, something he’s been thinking about for months if not years. Maybe even from the very first time Bruce ever laid his eyes on Tim. 

He leans back after suckling on Tim’s clit until the little pussy in front of him starts dripping. After a moment to appreciate the view, he slides back to grab the things he pulled out of the closet. 

“Here, baby,” Bruce smiles, slipping a pair of silk, baby blue panties up the length of Tim’s milky legs. “Such a pretty color on you.”

The matching bralette top is carefully clipped into place, one arm at a time as Bruce leans Tim against his chest to get to his back. Frilly socks cover Tim’s delicate ankles, this time a pearl white. The last thing Bruce puts on Tim is a matching layered babydoll dress, the bodice needing to be laced around Tim’s chest while the skirt flares around his thighs. 

After dressing Tim, Bruce carefully lifts him back into his arms. He walks quietly over to his office, kicking the door open and then shut behind him. 

Propping Tim up requires some reorganizing, some reshuffling of things on his desk until everything is arranged in a way that Tim’s sleeping body can rest on. His legs hang over the edge of the desk and to the right of Bruce’s chair. His head is balanced on a book that sticks out from the wall of shelves and he’s held upright by a weighty sculpture gifted to Bruce by one of his many nameless business associates. 

In the soft light of his office, Tim looks just the way Bruce first thought of him - like a doll. It was Bruce’s very first impression of the boy in that dim corridor of Gotham’s oldest banquet hall. The dress he wore then was a deep red and velvet, paired with black stockings and mary-jane’s that were a deeper, darker red. 

Now, Bruce has his doll perched exactly where he wants it, watching over him and looking pretty enough for a museum. If Bruce was a little less greedy, a little less hungry, he would have considered putting up a shelf somewhere to sit his little doll on so he could be enjoyed from afar. 

Unfortunately, Bruce wants to touch Tim too badly for that. 

He works on some financial briefings for a while, pausing to adjust Tim whenever the boy begins to slip. He remains focused for the most part until Tim’s thighs eventually slide apart, his dress too short to conceal the wet patch on the gusset of Tim’s panties. 

There’s not much Bruce can do to resist that. He clicks his laptop shut and lifts Tim off the desk, moving the two of them to the couch against the wall. He spreads Tim over the cushions, legs open and arms over his head, and starts undressing himself. 

With his bare cock hard and leaking against his stomach, Bruce crawls over Tim and licks slowly, dedicatedly into his pretty doll’s lax mouth. Tim is loose enough that he doesn’t even gag when Bruce’s tongue brushes the back of Tim’s throat. 

He slides his hand under silk panties and presses two of his fingers into Tim’s pussy. The stretch is tight, but Bruce knows Tim can take it. Bruce sits back to watch, shuffling Tim’s panties lower so he can witness his doll’s cunt envelop his fingers. 

When working Tim’s body open gets loud enough, Bruce slips in another finger. He can’t finger his pretty  pussy as hard as he wants with the panties still around his hips, but he can get deep enough to have Tim start panting in his sleep. 

At the reminder that Tim is his pretty, drugged baby doll right now, Bruce looks up to find Tim’s sweet face scrunched in mindless pleasure. He’s pink and moaning softly, the belly exposed by the flipped dress inflating rapidly as his breaths quicken. 

After removing his soaked fingers from Tim’s cunt, Bruce pulls Tim’s panties back up and then rips a hole in them right over Tim’s entrance. He bought them, and Tim doesn’t even know he has them to be sad over their loss. As it stands, Bruce’s cock pulses at the debauched art that his little doll makes, sprawled and still, altered just as Bruce wills it. 

He has to adjust the hole a few more times until his cock fits through it, and then Bruce happily, eagerly, rapturously sinks into Tim’s dripping pussy. That tight, searing channel welcomes him, sucks him in and drools hungrily around him. Tim’s exposed belly proudly bears the bulge of Bruce’s massive cock, the small bump of it so obscene that Bruce’s eyes roll into the back of his head. 

Bruce fucks his doll like that, piercing Tim’s panties and his pussy, battering his little womb and fucking him harder, thrusting him higher up the cushions. As his arousal grows, so too does his tempo, hips thrusting faster, meaner, knowing Tim will feel it when he wakes but not now, not when Bruce finally works his cock through Tim’s cervix and into his womb. 

Even drugged, even asleep, Tim comes at the intrusion. He clamps down on Bruce’s cock, hips rolling and exaggerating the bulge in his belly. Bruce keeps pounding him, fitting the babydoll dress so he can feel the frilled edges against his skin where his pelvis smashes into Tim’s. 

With one hand, Bruce yanks at the empire waistband just below Tim’s tits, revealing the supple flesh that hid underneath, exposed now under the frill bralette. The fat jiggles with Bruce’s thrusts, pink, pebbled nipples so porcelain looking that Bruce comes right into Tim’s womb. 

He keeps his pretty doll sat on his cock for the rest of the morning while he finishes his reports. He takes two more breaks to bounce Tim on his cock until his boy comes again and takes another load into his womb. 

After plugging Tim’s stuffed pussy, Bruce carries him back to their bedroom and lays him out. He might even sneak a picture or five of his pretty doll in his dress and socks and stained, torn panties. His watch tells him that Tim has another hour or two before the drugs are out of his system, and he smiles at what his baby will do when he wakes like this. 

Again? He’ll pout, waddling to wherever Bruce has absconded to while trying to keep his lover’s seed from leaking out. I told you to use a paralytic next time. I want to be awake when you do this!

Maybe Bruce will try to soothe him with the knowledge that he is indeed looking for the perfect agent to render Tim frozen, glassy eyed and loose limbed while Bruce has his wicked way with him. 

Chapter Text

It’s not the best coping mechanism Jason’s ever had, but it’s definitely not the worst. Not even close. 

And in the grander scheme of things, this is relatively harmless. He’s careful about it, planning shit out, sanitizing everything, making sure he’s in a decent enough headspace to handle it, to enjoy it. Because that’s the most important part. Jason needs to rewire this automatic trauma response he has into something - less. 

It’s a kind of exposure therapy, really, working towards the day Jason can come across this trigger and not drop immediately into a panic attack. 

It’s definitely working. Right now, all Jason can do is smile. 

“It’s cold,” Tim whines, shuffling like a little ballerina on the very tips of his toes. 

“It’s metal,” Jason answers not unkindly. “What did you expect?” 

“That you would warm it up first,” Tim huffs, hands squeezing around Jason’s arm. 

“You’re warming it up,” Jason smirks. He fucks it deeper inside Tim to accentuate his point, and his little brother moans. 

They’re in one of Jason’s safe houses, the night thick and heavy around them, slipping into the room like a living, breathing thing. It’s been their witness since Jason first dragged Tim in through the window and tugged his Robin uniform askew. 

In his hand and shoved deep into Tim’s tiny pussy, the crowbar is far from a formidable and deadly weapon, an agent of pain and terror. Like this, pumping in and out of Jason’s little brother’s cunt, the crowbar is just a thing that’s making Tim tremble and blush such a pretty pink. 

It’s a toy, long and thick, and it’s getting coated in Tim’s wetness the longer Jason stands there and fucks him with it. 

As opposed to the very first time this happened, Jason’s hand around the bottom is firm, no trembles in sight. The only thing he’s seeing is the way Tim shakes and squirms, sinking down when Jason pulls the crowbar down and rising to his tiptoes when Jason fucks it up into him. Thoughts of that horrible, demented laughter do not take root, not even a little. 

“It’s deep,” Tim grunts with his face pressed to Jason’s shoulder. 

“You like it deep,” Jason smirks. He pumps the crowbar harder, Tim’s wetness reaching where his fingers grip the metal. 

“Yeah,” Tim agrees breathily. “Faster.” 

Jason obeys, but only because he owes Tim for being willing to help him out like this. He hadn’t wanted to at first, scared of putting something like that in his pussy, but his worry for Jason eventually outweighed the worry for his own cunt. Only one of them was prone to violent, panicked outbursts. 

Now Tim comes to Jason whenever he has the free time, even in the middle of patrol with Batman. He’s addicted to letting his brother fuck him with the crowbar, and Jason loves it. 

He stabs the piece of metal forward, pushing deeper. If he can get the curved end to hit that spot - 

“Fuck,” Tim shouts, legs giving out beneath him as his pussy squirts violently. His walls clamp around the crowbar, holding it in place even when Jason tugs on his end. 

Impatient, Jason lets Tim’s spasming pussy hold the crowbar in place and gets his arms around his little brother, hefting him up and over to the sparse bedroom. The carpet in the living room is a lost cause, stained with so much of their come that it’s a security risk. The bed, however, is prepared to handle their mess. 

Jason throws Tim onto the mattress and the boy squeals as the crowbar still tucked deep inside his pussy is jarred. “Jason,” he shouts, kicking his legs in an attempt to keep the metal bar still. 

“Sorry, Timster,” Jason says, not sorry at all. 

The sight of this little Robin in his ruffled uniform, the crotch of which is pinned to the side by the large crowbar in his pink pussy, lips parted and bitten, body twisted around to keep his legs open, is life-altering. It’s the only way Jason will ever picture a Robin and a crowbar together again. 

“Come on,” Tim huffs and tilts his hips to move Jason’s end of the crowbar closer to him. “I want to come again.” 

“Sure thing,” Jason laughs, crawling onto the bed and grabbing the curved end. 

Tim shouts when Jason yanks it almost all the way out, and then grunts like he’s been punched when Jason shoves it back almost all the way in. Tim’s belly bulges, the sharp, curved end of the crowbar poking through his skin. 

“Jason,” Tim whines. But because he’s such a sweet and dedicated brother, he remembers to moan, “It feels good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Uh-huh,” Tim whimpers. He starts rolling his hips into Jason’s thrusting, whining when Jason’s grip slips on the slick and ends up piercing Tim’s pussy a little more roughly. 

“Good,” Tim moans again. He sneaks one of his hands down his abdomen, reaching for his little clit before Jason stops him. 

“You’re coming on this alone,” he says, and then smiles wide when Tim groans. “You’ve done it before,” Jason reminds him, speeding his hand up. 

He used to have to play with his clit to come in the beginning before either of them figured out what felt good for Tim. Now, Jason has fucking Tim with the crowbar down to a science. He reaches down and spreads Tim’s pussy lips, squeezing around the stretched vulva that swallow the crowbar and coat it in juice. 

“It feels good right?” Jason asks. 

Tim nods, hands cupping the place on his belly where it juts out. “Doesn’t hurt at all.” 

“That’s good,” Jason says. A crowbar doesn’t hurt. A crowbar makes Tim’s eyes roll back and his back arch and his pretty pink pussy spasm in orgasm. 

When Tim starts whining from the oversensitivity, Jason slowly works the crowbar out of him and drops it harmlessly onto the carpeted floor. There is only a second of relief in Tim because then Jason is crawling forward, cock out and nudging at Tim’s cunt. 

“Really?” Tim frowns even as he reaches down to hold his uniform out of the way. 

“This part is just for you,” Jason reasons, “because it makes you feel so good.” 

Tim nods, letting his knees bend as Jason presses his cock in, flexible enough as a Robin that Jason can easily fold him in half. His cock punches deep, the heat of Tim like a reward for his hard work. 

“Hurry up,” Tim pants after a few minutes of taking Jason’s cock. “B is asking where I am.” He taps his muted com and gives Jason a stern look. 

The effect is undermined by the fact that Jason is currently humping into his puffy pussy like a mad, starving dog. The wet sounds of their fucking fills the room and the night inside it, and Jason fucks harder. 

Really, crowbars don’t bother him so much anymore. They used to very badly, enough that Jason went out of his way to correct his trauma response, but ever since the warm embrace of Tim’s pussy, that response has lessened significantly. 

This, Tim grunting as Jason thrusts deep and comes inside him raw, is just further positive reinforcement. 

Chapter Text

“Are you serious?” Tim hisses furiously. 

“Don’t worry,” Dick says, patting Tim’s flank like he's a horse. That hand slides slowly downwards, slipping under the waistband of Tim’s pants. “We’re in a blind spot.”

Tim suppresses the urge to squirm away, hesitant to draw attention to them. He bites out, “For who?” 

With a laugh, Dick answers, “For anyone not meant to see.” 

Cryptic, Tim thinks. And then Dick’s fingers reach the lips of his pussy and he clamps his jaw shut. They’re tucked in between large, flowering garden hedges, and they’re several yards away from the street, but they’re still in public. He really doesn’t know what’s gotten into his eldest brother. 

But Tim struggles to hold onto reason when Dick starts fingering him, easily fucking three fingers into Tim’s loose pussy. 

“Hah,” Dick notes, “I guess I’m not the first one to play with you today.” 

It’s almost nine in the evening. Of course Tim’s been fucked already. He’s taken Bruce and Jason a few times already, their combined spend slicking the way for Dick’s eager fingers. Tim woke up on his father’s cock. 

Not that Dick would know. He’s been in Bludhaven for most of the month. 

“If we get caught, Bruce is going to flay you,” Tim says, his feet sliding another inch apart so Dick can thrust his fingers with more force. 

He’s been fucked outdoors before and he’s even sat on cock in precarious, easily discoverable situations, but never has Tim been this exposed. They’re in Bristol proper, just a block away from Tim’s favorite cafe, and though the dark of evening lends them cover, there are still streetlights overhead. The large hedges around them can only do so much. 

“We won’t get caught,” Dick says confidently. “I have a trick.” 

Tim turns towards his shoulder to give his brother a real skeptic look. “A trick to fuck me in public?” 

“We’re hidden and this is Gotham, little bird. The only thing we have to worry about,” Dick trails off and uses the hand not stuffing Tim’s pussy to direct Tim’s chin back until they are both looking up, “is that.” 

A security camera. It’s high up, visibly powered on, and it’s pointed right down on them. As both horror and arousal shoot through Tim, his pussy clamps up and his thighs squeeze together. 

“Dick,” Tim hisses, scrambling at his brother’s arm. “Bruce is going to kill you.” 

“No, see,” Dick laughs and then holds up what appears to be a solid black cylinder. 

Tim’s immediate response is that now is not the time to start fucking him with random objects again. There is a time and place for that, and it is not here, exposed, where they have to prioritize getting rid of any incriminating evidence. 

But then the object shifts in Dick’s grasp, unfurling with a crisp sound, the sliding of metal - it’s an umbrella. Dark and inconspicuous, Dick opens it up and holds it over their heads. 

“A perp used this trick back in Blud to avoid getting caught,” Dick tells him as the fingers inside Tim’s cunt start rubbing at his g-spot. “Kind of brilliant. I was inspired.” 

“It already - hn - already saw us,” Tim pants, thighs easily spreading again at his brother’s direction. 

“It saw that I was hugging you,” Dick replies breezily. “And it’s not like we let it see our faces.” 

Well, no. That’s Robin instinct, not that Tim thinks that’s enough to avoid detection. Even if all the camera catches is two unidentifiable figures standing in its direct eyeline under an umbrella for who knows how long, that’s enough to raise suspicion. 

“No one’s going to be watching, baby,” Dick soothes, his fingers caressing Tim’s quivering insides just as gently. “And I know you like it when it’s risky.” 

“I don’t want you to go to jail,” Tim huffs, but he knows that he’s lost this round. 

Lost in the sense that Bruce isn’t going to be happy about having to hack the traffic systems later to make sure. Getting fucked by his brother can’t really be considered losing. 

It’s not as difficult as Tim expected, staying upright and within the cover of the umbrella as Dick finishes working him open and then slides his cock inside. 

“See,” Dick whispers into his ear, “you’re so excited for me to fuck you.” 

Tim can’t stop his pussy from spasming, all of his focus on the street ahead of them. The tunnel of the garden hedges ends at the paved sidewalk that lines the road, a few cars flashing past, too quick to really discern but still there. Still filled with people who might be looking out their windows, who might catch a glimpse of Tim getting rocked by his big brother’s cock. 

Dick can’t fuck him as rough as he might at home, not if he wants to keep the umbrella in position, but that doesn’t prevent him from fucking Tim good. Tim’s on his toes and gripping Dick’s forearms for balance, his mouth open and drooling as he holds his breath against any moans that want to come out. 

They’re really not that far from the street. 

“Good pussy,” Dick groans, sliding Tim’s pants further down his thighs. “God, are you pregnant again already? Should I give your womb a shot too?” 

Tim comes, teeth cutting into his tongue even as a loud, “Hngh!” escapes him. Luckily, he just creams around Dick’s pounding cock. Squirting would have wet his pants, and they still have to get back home after this. 

“I haven’t taken a test yet,” Tim answers after he catches his breath. 

“Then I’ll do my best,” Dick promises and then he lifts Tim up and starts fucking him deeper and harder enough to make Tim squeal. 

“Grab the umbrella,” Dick barks out, and Tim obeys. 

The umbrella shakes with him, though Tim does his best to keep it steady. It’s not his fault that he’s been lifted off his feet to get pounded by his brother. He has to strain to keep his dangling legs from jerking out of the umbrella’s cover. 

“Good boy,” Dick says with a kiss to Tim’s neck. “Don’t let the camera catch you.” 

Umbrella or no umbrella, Tim’s pretty sure it’s obvious what’s happening here. No matter how hard he tries, Dick keeps thrusting hard into his sopping, dripping pussy, and Tim’s body can’t help but jerk with it. The umbrella remains their shield through sheer force of will, but it’s not the best shield it could be. 

Eventually, though, Tim stops caring. Dick loves his sloppy pussy, loves making Tim gag for it. And Tim is gagging, the struggle to swallow his moans growing when Dick full on starts bouncing Tim on his cock. 

“Look,” Dick says and Tim does. 

Right in front of them, slowly walking past the mouth of their little hideaway, are a couple watching with wide eyes. The woman’s face is flushing a brilliant red, and the man’s gaze has locked onto Tim’s pussy where it’s stretched around Dick’s massive cock. 

“Fuck,” Tim moans, coming again as Dick bounces him harder. The woman smiles, embarrassed, and she yanks the man to try and get him to move. He resists.

The yards of distance and darkness offer Tim some protection. Probably, the couple doesn’t recognize him or Dick, nor can they tell that Tim is very underage. The things they can see for certain are that Tim’s pants are at his knees and that there’s a cock stuffed in his pussy, and he’s being jerked on it like a toy, like someone’s pocket pussy. 

The couple scurry away, the woman hissing something and the man blinking like he’s come awake from a dream. Dick laughs meanly, kisses Tim’s neck again. “He got hard,” he tells Tim, “just from seeing me fuck your pretty pussy.” 

Tim’s arm shakes horribly where it continues to keep the umbrella over their heads. 

“Hu-hurry up,” Tim groans. He tightens his cunt up as much as he can and rocks back into Dick’s thrusts. “We should go home.” 

“You don’t want anyone else to see?” 

Tim isn’t opposed to the idea, but he doubts that Dick cleared this with Bruce beforehand. They’re going to get in trouble. Plus, this is really good and his pussy is going to remember it for a while, but Dick can’t really pound Tim the way he wants it, aches for it. 

“I want you to fuck me in a bed,” Tim says. “Want you to make me squirt and scream, want you to fuck me so hard that the bed breaks.” 

“Oh fuck,” Dick curses, and then he’s shooting liquid heat into the depths of Tim’s pussy. 

They sway there for a moment, Dick coming and Tim doing his best to keep the umbrella up. Then Dick lifts Tim off his cock and spins him around, cradling him like a child before lowering him back onto his cock. 

“Wonderful,” he says, pecking Tim’s mouth and cheek. “Beautiful. Your pussy is my favorite pussy in the whole world.” 

Despite the crassness of his compliment, Tim’s face heats and his stomach flutters. “Thank you,” he mumbles, squeezing around Dick’s softening cock. 

Dick starts walking them back towards the alley his nondescript, plateless car was parked in. “Don’t worry about Bruce,” Dick says, "Okay? Once he gets the video, he’s just going to be pissed he didn’t think about it first.” 

Tim has the mind to move the umbrella with him, keeping it facing the camera until they’ve slipped entirely into darkness. Then he slides it shut and holds it to his chest. 

Dick raises his brow at him. Tim flushes. “It’s a good umbrella.” 

Dick begins to smirk. “Do you want me to fuck you with it?” 

Tim’s noise of affront is swallowed by the beeping of the car as Dick unlocks it. Quickly, Tim is poured into the basket, the waistband around his knees catching on a hook and getting tugged lower, down to Tim’s ankles. 

Laughing, Dick takes the umbrella from Tim and rubs it over the exposed and messy seam of Tim’s pussy. “I bet that’s what you thought it was at first, huh? You like it when we put things inside this cute, little pussy.” 

“Shut up,” Tim blusters. 

It’s an empty gesture. Afterall, he’s the one that didn’t wear panties for this rare outing with his eldest brother. He’s the one that followed Dick into that secluded hedge tunnel, and he’s the one that’s always enjoyed taking cock. 

His legs spread, offering Dick open access to his sloppy cunt. Dick beams, climbing into the car and shutting the door behind them, trapping them both in the backseat. 

“This is my favorite umbrella now,” Dick announces as he presses the blunt end to Tim’s gaping entrance. “I doubt we’ll be able to use it again, but I’m going to keep it forever.” 

“It’s dirty,” Tim argues weakly. He’s definitely kept many things covered in come. 

Dick just smiles harder. The umbrella slips inside Tim and the coarse material of it scrapes so good against his walls. Tim cries out, legs kicking unconsciously as Dick keeps shoving the umbrella deeper. 

“God, you can take anything,” Dick mutters to himself. 

Tim tries not to preen. But his pleasure is hard to conceal, especially once Dick works up a rhythm, sinking the umbrella into Tim’s pussy up to the metal handle, then pulling it back out. The waterproof material is new to the insides of Tim’s body, but it feels good. Tim is enjoying the way it kind of scratches. 

Dick fucks him to two more orgasms, the last of which is a spray of squirt that soaks everything but the umbrella. It comes out of Tim’s cunt come stained, Dick’s seed already drying white and flaky, but that’s beside the point. After the umbrella, Dick fucks Tim with his cock to another squirting orgasm that soaks them both further. 

After giving Tim’s womb another load, Dick situates them both in the front seat: Dick behind the wheel and Tim warming his cock with his messy pussy. He drives them back home like that, Tim periodically squeezing around him, his big brother’s seed warm in his belly. 

Chapter Text

It starts with strange flashes of light. 

At first, Bruce figures he’s tired. He knows he doesn’t sleep enough and that he spends hours upon hours staring at the screen of his computers, squinting through the dark. His retinas are probably strained, and that’s what’s causing the strange squiggles of color in his vision. 

But then his reports start going missing. 

This is alarming for several reasons, number one being that no one should be able to access the Batcave without his knowing about it. He goes over hours of footage, he sets up a number of new security measures, he even stays up a few nights to observe, but he finds nothing amiss. 

He switches from physical documentation to purely technological ones, and that still doesn’t fix anything. His reports continue to go missing. 

Then he starts waking up with his hair … brushed. It’s a strange thing to notice, because it culminates in a feeling of care that Bruce hasn’t had much experience with. 

He assumes ghosts. It wouldn’t be the first time Bruce found himself haunted. Only, when he asks the League about hauntings, Zatana mentions that not all hauntings are related to ghosts and spirits. Sometimes, they’re perpetrated by fae creatures. 

Bruce doesn’t know much about fairies, and he doesn’t really have the patience to learn more. He asks Zatana how to catch one and she tells him, pairing it with a warning. Fairies are tricky, she says, and troublesome. They are rarely what they seem to be. 

But Bruce can’t just sit back while some paranormal entity poses a security risk. 

That same night, he sets up the trap: a stack of old, cold case files on his office desk, an evidence bag filled with pressed flowers, and him in a corner, iron rings ready. He’s not sure how big the fairy will be, so he had Zatana etch an enchantment on the inside of the rings to make them magically adjust to size. 

It takes a while for the fairy to show up. Now that Bruce knows what he’s expecting, it’s a lot easier to spot it. Magic is weird like that. It cracks the window open and slips inside, as small as a butterfly as it flutters excitedly towards the desk. 

As long as Bruce had to sit in wait, catching the fairy happens very quickly. It struggles to flip the first file open, and as it strains, Bruce flicks the iron ring forward and watches as it hoops around the tiny creature. There’s another flash and then, very suddenly, the fairy is the size of a boy. 

“What?” It gasps, looking at the iron fitted around its wrists like shackles. It looks up, its human-like face pale and wide-eyed. Its gaze locks onto Bruce and the eyes widen further, more than a human would be capable of. “Bruce?” 

It knows his name. Zatana said that would be bad. 

“You have been stealing from me.” 

The fairy shuffles its feet, the thin, shimmering garments preserving its modesty shifting like water. With a petulant mouth it argues, “I was going to bring them back.” 

“They should never have been taken,” Bruce steps forward. He’s not in his cowl given that the fairy already knows his identity. “You will be forbidden from entering my home again.” 

“No!” The fairy leaps forward, one pale hand reaching out. “But I can solve them! I can help!” 

Bruce pauses. Most of the files the fairy took were cold cases, the ones that haunted him for his failure. He’s spent years pouring over them, never getting any closer to figuring them out. 

“Is that so?” 

The fairy nods emphatically, stepping further into the low light. It’s sweet looking, small and dainty and faintly shimmering. “The tourist one! She was having an affair with the realtor. Her body will be under one of those new developments.” 

“Sarah White?” 

“Yes,” the fairy beams. “And the cook! He was killed by the busboy. There was a lot of debt between them.” 

“Are you using magic to solve them?” 

The fairy pouts. “Only a little. My mother always told me I had a very sharp mind.” 

Bruce tilts his head curiously. “So you’ve been stealing my reports to solve them. For fun?” 

“It’s rewarding,” the fairy shrugs. “And I admire your work.” 

He shouldn’t entertain this. He should remember how Zatana told him fairies were conniving creatures not to be trusted, but Sarah White and Victor Greeves are only two names out of hundreds still waiting for justice. He owes it to them to accept whatever help he can find. 

“How many do you think you’ve solved?”

“Mr. Bruce,” the fairy laughs. “You don’t really think I’ll just tell you that, do you? We must strike a deal!” 

Bruce frowns. “I have been advised against doing that.” 

“I’m not trying to meddle,” the fairy argues, stepping even closer. In sharper light, it really looks like a human boy. An indecently dressed human boy. “This is just good business. If I help you, then you must help me.” 

“What would you ask me for?” 

The fairy plays with the material of its - dress? Skirt? The fabric is so shimmery and iridescent that Bruce struggles to identify the cut. It’s pretty, though. It looks like it would be soft. 

“A kiss?” The fairy says, sweet and alluring. 

Bruce blinks, shocked. The fairy smiles at him with its childlike face. The way Zatana had spoken of these creatures, Bruce expected for the fairy to ask for much more. 

“Just a kiss?” 

“Maybe a little more,” the fairy teases. “You’re very handsome.” 

“You look like a child.” 

“Does that bother you?” 

Not as much as it should, Bruce knows. The fairy is pretty, with blue eyes and dark hair. Its pale skin is smooth and shimmery and what he can see beneath the garment is delicate and soft. In his pants, Bruce’s cock shifts. 

“I won’t ask for more than you can give,” the fairy promises, gliding further forward until it’s just a few feet away from Bruce. 

And - well, Bruce can’t deny that he’s been lonely. He can’t deny that the intellect of this creature is attractive, that its ability to solve cases that have eluded him for years is worth any number of high prices. It’s been long since Bruce indulged himself in the pleasures of the flesh. 

He wonders how differently fairies feel from humans. 

Enthralled, Bruce reaches out and puts the flat of his palm against the soft swell of the fairy’s tit. It gasps, grabbing his wrist with cold, fragile fingers. There’s a quick fluttering beneath the little breast, a heartbeat that races hummingbird fast. It's warm, undeniably alive, and Bruce wants to feel more of it. 

His other hand delves straight between the fairy’s legs, forward enough that Bruce surprises himself. The fabric of the fairy’s clothes feels like spilling water, but its cunt is all familiar heat and wetness. The fairy moans, eyelids fluttering closed, and Bruce stops thinking. 

When they get around to kissing, it’s with the fairy’s dress hiked up around its waist, its legs held open by Bruce’s hips as he pounds inside an impossibly tight pussy. The fairy is holding onto Bruce’s desk as the folders and evidence bags fly off the edges, the wood shifting under the power of Bruce’s thrusts. 

“Does my body please you?” The fairy asks between kisses. “Will you want to play with me again?” 

Bruce shoves the dress further up to close his mouth around the fairy’s tit. Around his cock, the hot, pulsing pussy squeezes. It squelches wetly around every thrust, the fairy’s shimmering slick soaking the papers underneath them. 

And since the fairy is so small, Bruce has no trouble moving it around. He yanks the tiny body harshly on his cock, making its spine bend so that it is contorted into stillness, unable to wiggle away from Bruce’s unrelenting cock. All it can do is moan and shake and spill its glittering juices all over their groins. 

“I will help you,” the fairy moans, sat up now as Bruce drives it up and down his cock. “For the exchange of your body. Your heart.” 

“No,” Bruce growls. He grabs the fairy’s wrists and squeezes around the iron bands. “You’re mine.” 

“And you can be mine,” the fairy pants against Bruce’s mouth. With its wrists restrained behind its back and its dripping cunt pierced by Bruce’s cock, it is no position to negotiate. That it does is a little endearing. 

“I’m going to lock you up,” Bruce says without much thought as he slams in again and again. “I will just keep you. Your magic can’t help you now.” 

“And you will fuck me,” the fairy says, squeezing pointedly around Bruce’s cock. “Whenever you want. Whenever you need to remember that you’re alive.” 

It’s true. That the fairy says it so calmly, like Bruce’s immediate addiction to its body is the natural conclusion, infuriates him. He grips the fairy’s tiny waist and stands, keeping the creature sheathed on his cock as he leaves the office and crosses the manor. 

He keeps the fairy bouncing, yanking it up and down his cock like a toy. The fairy squeals, squirting its glimmering juices over the carpet and floor. It’s speaking, but there’s too much blood rushing in Bruce’s ears to really hear any of it. He’s become single-minded with his intention. 

They descend into the cave chaotically, Bruce moving quickly so that the fairy gets jerked around on his cock. It squirts again, pretty mouth drooling as shimmering tears leak out of its light blue eyes. 

Bruce takes his cock out of the fairy’s body only for as long as it takes to connect the iron chain to the shackles on its wrist. Then he fucks back in and loses himself to pounding the fairy stupid. Its little body throttles underneath him, its voice breaking as it cries out. Because of the chains, its arms are raised over its head, leaving it even more helpless to Bruce’s ravenous desire. 

“My body,” he tells it. “My pussy. Mine to fuck whenever I want.”

“Yes,” the fairy sobs, skin painted with more shimmer as it comes and cries. “Yours. And mine.” 

By the time Bruce comes back to himself, the fairy is sleeping, jerking bonelessly with Bruce’s slowing thrusts. It is covered in bruises and fluids, and its belly is bulging with all the loads of come Bruce has filled it with. Its pretty dress is bunched under its head like a pillow, and Bruce carefully fans it over the fairy’s body as a blanket when he finally pulls out. 

It does nothing to conceal the fairy’s swollen stomach, but it covers enough to settle the heat that still thrums under Bruce’s skin. He hasn’t felt arousal like this since he was a teenager. 

Dazedly, Bruce gets dressed and returns to his office. He rerouts to the bedroom when he finds his office a mess, shimmer everywhere the fairy came and Bruce fucked it against. He’ll just use his personal laptop to ask Zatana some questions. 

***

When Tim wakes, he does so with a smile. His human is gone, but Tim can sense him above his head. He’s pacing, probably wondering why he was so uninhibited with Tim last night, why he was so willing to fuck a child-shaped fae. 

The truth is that Tim hardly used his magic at all. The iron limits what he can do, but the shackles don’t mute the magic he has been casting for months. Tim spoke no spells, though. He just molded his magic, made it the shape of desire and waited for Bruce to answer it on his own. 

With one of the bobby pins that managed to stay in his hair after all the fucking, Tim unlocks himself from Batman’s chains and stretches. He knew it would be good, but sex with Bruce was truly transcendental. His pussy will be sated by no other from this day forward. Already, he hungers for more. 

Any doubts he may have had before walking into the human’s trap have all been banished. Tim plans to get fucked by that thick, punishing cock for the rest of his life. He pats his belly, his swollen womb, and sends a tendril of his sealed magic to where Bruce’s seed has made it deepest. 

May they soon be blessed with a child. 

That’s all Tim really wants afterall. He’s watched Bruce for years, skirting the edges of the Wayne property since he first came of fae age. He knows that this man reflects his own loneliness and desperate need for a cause, and he has truly come to admire and respect him. Love him.

He knows that they were made for each other. He knows that they will be happy. It might take a little more convincing for Bruce, but Tim will wait patiently. 

After plugging his pussy with an easy spell, Tim dresses and climbs up the stairs. He stops in the hall to make sure he looks prettily debauched, shoulders and bruised chest tastefully exposed, dress ripped high enough to show the come stains and finger bruises on his upper inner thighs. 

“Bruce,” he says, peeking around the door of the man’s bedroom. 

Bruce snaps around, eyes widening when he realizes that it’s Tim at his door. Tim smiles, small and shy, and slowly slips into the room. 

“How did you get out?” 

Tim smiles wider. “Should I tell you?” Tim giggles, spinning on his heel and feeling heat pulse inside him when Bruce zeroes in on his swollen belly, the man’s come sloshing inside him. 

“I will not make a deal with you,” Bruce says, knuckles white as his hands form fists. 

Smiling indulgently, Tim shuffles forward. “Okay,” Tim allows. 

For deals can be made with more than spoken words. Already they have started a conversation with their bodies. The more Bruce fucks Tim, the stronger their tie will become, the more Bruce will belong to him and vice versa. 

“What kind of fairy are you?” Bruce asks. 

In this one, Tim decides to indulge his human. “I’m a fairy for the lost and forgotten.” 

Bruce's eyes flicker with some deep emotion as he sits heavily on his bed. “Oh.” He clears his throat and puts up no resistance when Tim climbs into his lap. 

“Dear Bruce,” Tim sighs coyly. “I woke this morning filled with your seed. Will you take responsibility?” 

Hands close around Tim’s upper waist, thumbs brushing the undersides of his breasts. The cock hardening underneath Tim’s thighs twitches. “You can conceive?" 

“I have all the parts necessary,” Tim says. “And I’m older than I look.” 

“I’ve been told fairies are immortal,” Bruce says quietly. 

Tim smiles, gentle. “And so shall be my children.” 

It’s mostly the truth. Tim is hundreds of years old, and it would take the darkest, most vilest of magic to kill him. A half human fae child would be more fallible, yes, but nowhere near as delicate as a regular human. 

And to Bruce, a man who has grieved, that is a desperate yearning made true. 

When Bruce kisses him with frantic hunger, Tim’s heart squeezes. How frightening it must be to love something that death can take from you. The sooner their bond solidifies, the quicker Tim can take Bruce away from such mundane worries. 

“I do not ask for much,” Tim moans, spelling away the plug nestled between his cunt lips as Bruce’s hand slips down his come-stuffed belly. 

“You ask for everything,” Bruce says before fucking his tongue into Tim’s mouth, preventing either of them from saying much more. 

When Bruce slides his cock home, it’s to the indecent expulsion of his own seed from Tim’s body. They make a quick mess of his bed, Bruce’s thrusting even more frenzied in the daylight. His cockhead kisses Tim’s womb, loosening it in a way that makes Tim lightheaded. 

He never thought a human would reach so deep inside him. 

His little womb takes three more loads before Bruce lifts him off his cock. Tim is nearly insensate, fuller than he's ever been fucked, skin stretching around his come-belly. 

“You are too enticing,” Bruce tells his exhausted body, caressing his cheek. 

Tim smiles weakly, patting Bruce’s hand and then flopping back onto the mattress. He dozes as Bruce leaves the room, too tired to spell a plug to his own chagrin when he wakes a few hours later to a pool of seed still forming at the gape of his pussy. 

He frowns, sorry to see that his stomach is once again flat. He senses Bruce is outdoors, and wobbles over to the nearest window. To his utter delight, he watches Bruce complete a salt circle around the manor. He can feel the boundary as it closes around him, effectively trapping him in Bruce’s home. 

“Oh, my dear lover,” Tim sighs as he melts against the windowpane, flush with affection. “I have no intention of leaving you.” 

***

As he drops the last of his salt onto the dirt, Bruce finds himself struggling to feel disgust. 

He’s fucked a child. Sort of. It’s a fairy wearing a child’s face. Maybe it’s a child fae, but how does that translate into human years? Does it really matter now that he’s made the decision to keep it? To fuck it pregnant with his children?  

It doesn’t seem to oppose such a pregnancy or even its own imprisonment. It was very eager to take Bruce’s cock, to have Bruce come deep inside its body. When it came to Bruce this morning, it was still swollen with his seed, like it purposefully kept it all inside. 

After it slipped its chains, it could have escaped. Instead, the sweet little fairy came to him and climbed onto his cock. Bruce isn’t smart enough to let a gift like that go to waste. 

A child that cannot die? Bruce wants it. He wants this fairy to give it to him. 

When he comes back inside, the fairy is there, naked, smiling, and the most beautiful thing Bruce has ever seen. 

“You intend to keep me?” The fairy asks playfully as it flutters over to him.

Bruce doesn’t answer. He pulls his cock out and takes the fairy into his arms. The fairy laughs and winds its lithe arms around Bruce’s neck. 

“I could make a fertility draught,” it breathes as Bruce lowers it back onto his cock. “To ensure that your seed quickly takes root within me.” 

“What do you need?” Bruce asks. 

“I will make you a list of ingredients after you fuck me,” the fairy promises. “And then I will teach you how to make it.” 

“Okay,” Bruce says, propping the fairy up against the hallway entrance. “Is your pussy magic?” He doesn’t mean to ask it, but it comes out anyway. He hasn’t ever been this eager to fuck anybody. 

The fairy smiles and leans in for a kiss. “Perhaps,” it laughs against Bruce’s lips. “Do you enjoy it?” 

Bruce answers by pinning the fairy’s torso to the wall and drilling into its little cunt. He doesn’t hold back, thrusting as deep as he can go until he feels that second mouth inside the fairy’s body. The fairy squeals, blabbering as Bruce aims for it again and again, fucking that entrance loose with a single minded focus. “My womb,” it says over and over, “your cock is hitting my womb.” 

“You will carry my child,” Bruce tells the sobbing creature, easily picturing how gorgeous it will be with a truly swollen belly and tits to match. “You will give me as many children as I want.” 

“Okay,” the fairy shouts, creaming around Bruce’s cock. Its shimmering skin is otherworldly in the sunlight. “Get me pregnant.” 

As night falls and closes the first day Bruce has with his little fairy, Bruce tucks them both into his bed of freshly washed sheets and blankets. The fairy is almost asleep, shackled hands caressing its swollen belly as it says, “I have always wanted a big family.” 

Bruce has too. He cups the fairy’s stomach and prays for life to take root. He slides his fingers lower to feel where the fairy has spelled a magical plug to keep Bruce’s come inside. It said the spell doesn’t require much effort, so it can cast it even with the iron bands. 

This will require further investigation, because what other low effort spells can the fairy still perform? Now is just not the time for that, because with the magical plug, Bruce can slip his fingers inside the fairy’s loosened pussy and wet his fingers in the collection of seed there without having any of it leak out. 

It’s enough to make him hard again. 

The fairy laughs as it parts its thighs further. “You have good endurance for a human.” 

“What is endurance like for a fairy? You’ve passed out on my cock three times already,” Bruce says. 

“Your cock is bigger and tires me faster than fairy cock,” the fairy answers breezily despite stretching around Bruce for the upteenth time that day. 

Bruce’s cock twitches at the flippant praise. “Have you taken a lot of fairy cock?” 

The fairy laughs, a teasing light in its big eyes. “Fairies love to create mischief and to have sex. Usually amongst each other, but there are those with more human inclinations.” 

“Like you,” Bruce grunts. 

The fairy’s breast bounce with the force of Bruce’s thrusts. “Yours is the only human cock I’ve known.” 

At that, Bruce lets his hunger take control. He pounds the fairy’s tight little pussy, promising himself that his cock will be the only human cock his fairy will ever know.

Chapter Text

As Tim watches his drool make a little pool on the ground beneath them, all he can think - when he can form a coherent thought - is that he hopes the socks are clean. 

He doesn’t know where Bruce grabbed them from seeing that they’re in his WE penthouse office, but they were unceremoniously shoved into his mouth to dampen his moans. Bruce has made gags of many things including used briefs and soaked bed sheets, but dirty socks feel like a step too far. 

Tim shudders, Bruce’s fingers back to rubbing at his swollen clit. The helpless noises Tim makes at the stimulation are almost entirely muffled by the sock-gag. 

“My good boy,” Bruce says, shoving his cock as deep as it can go without fucking through the entrance of Tim’s womb. “Being so quiet.” 

“How much longer?” Tim tries to ask, but his question comes out garbled and muted. 

If Bruce understands, he doesn’t bother answering. He just adjusts his grip on Tim’s hips, bouncing him higher where he started slipping, and goes back to ramming his cock into Tim’s abused little cunt. 

It’s good, it’s always good, but Tim’s pussy is starting to go numb. Bruce hasn’t taken his cock out of Tim since the start of the workday, and though that’s not normally enough to make Tim feel all fucked out, this week has been busy. 

It’s only been a month since Tim was legally adopted by his lover, and they haven’t stopped celebrating. When Tim still technically lived with his biological parents, it was harder to have nights with Bruce. Now, no one is surprised or suspicious when Tim sleeps over, because it’s not really sleeping over anymore. It’s just Tim being home. He’s home in the bedroom he shares with Bruce, in their bed where they get to make love each night and every morning and whenever they find the time in between.

It’s been almost non-stop fucking since Tim officially moved in, and his pussy is really feeling it today. 

“My next Zoom meeting starts soon,” Bruce says suddenly, his thrusts slowing down as if to make sure Tim can listen. “Make sure you stay really quiet.” 

I can be quiet, but my pussy is too wet to be anything but loud, Tim thinks a little deliriously. He swallows around the balled up socks in his mouth and braces for Bruce to take him back to the chair.

This morning, after eating Tim out over breakfast, Bruce offered to bring Tim to the office. He said, “You don’t have school and I can’t get out of this morning meeting. I haven’t fucked you in my office in a while.” 

And Tim agreed. It had been a while, and he missed the frantic energy of sex at Wayne Enterprises HQ. He had a moment of peace while Bruce attended that first morning meeting, and then his lover came in, yanked Tim’s shorts off and started pounding his pussy like a man starved. When Tim started shouting, Bruce pulled out the (hopefully clean) socks and made him bite down on them to keep quiet. 

That was hours ago. Bruce has now tirelessly fucked Tim through a finance Zoom meeting, a phone call with his secretary, lunch, and then another Zoom meeting with the heads of R&D. For that one, Bruce left the camera on, folding Tim over their knees and tucking him under the desk all while keeping his cock seated deep in Tim’s guts. 

“What’s the next meeting?” Tim asks, once again garbled by the sock-gag. 

“With a Chinese associate,” Bruce explains through grunts as he takes a seat, adjusting Tim even as the boy gags from the force with which his womb is penetrated. Bruce continues, “We’ll need to keep the camera on now that I think about it. He likes doing business through eye contact.” 

Tim hears but doesn’t process much. He’s just come again, his creamy orgasm making a bigger mess of their groins. He does startle when Bruce lifts him up off his cock, spins him around, and then spears his pussy once again, fucking straight back into his womb. 

“Just pretend you’re asleep and stay quiet. Sound good, birdy?” 

Tim moans, drool soaking the sock-bag. 

“Good boy.”  

For a few minutes, Tim just sits there, cockwarming his father with both pussy and womb. He’s dozing, but in that exhausted way that’s not quite sleeping, not quite distracted with thoughts. Tim’s just drained, stuffed full as he is by his lover. He’s tired. 

After today, he wants to sleep for two days straight. 

Eventually, he hears the sounds of Bruce’s Zoom meeting beginning. The conversation in Mandarin goes in one of his ears and out the other, all his meager energy put into keeping the socks in his mouth and staying still, staying quiet. 

He’s doing well until Bruce sits forward, the cock nestled in Tim’s womb shifting against that sweet spot. He bites down on the cotton in his mouth and does his best to keep from squirming. The pressure is constant, the drag of Bruce’s veined cock like electricity down his spine. 

Hopefully out of view of the camera, Tim pinches the bare skin of Bruce’s thigh. I’m going to come, he tries to warn his lover. Your cock moved and now I’m going to come. 

Bruce must not understand, because he shifts again. His cock drags over the furthest end of Tim’s womb, and Tim loses it. He stiffens as he squirts, soaking the two of them and the chair they’re seated on. He moans too but manages at the last minute to turn it into a cough.

A fake cough that turns into an actual cough as the socks slip deeper into his gaping mouth, tickling the back of his throat. 

That’s when Tim starts moving, jerking on his father’s cock, unable to breathe as the socks start choking him. It’s only for a second, because Bruce immediately shoves him forward, out of sight of the cameras, and yanks the balled up socks out of his mouth. They’re soaked in spit and drop onto the floor beside the growing pool of Tim’s squirt with a wet plop. 

“I’m sorry, Chairman Yang. My son really isn’t feeling well,” Bruce says as he continues to hold Tim out of frame, now patting his back. “I hope you’ll forgive me for ending this meeting early.” 

As Chairman Yang replies, Bruce starts thrusting into Tim’s spasming pussy. He must be disguising it on camera as helping Tim, but it’s undeniable to Tim that he’s being fucked by his father as another man watches through a screen. Tim shoves his fingers into his mouth to muffle any sounds Bruce fucks out of him and does his best to remain pliant as Bruce brings him back into frame, tucking him against his broad chest and rocking him side to side. 

Bruce speaks again, but Tim is now biting on Bruce’s dress shirt to keep from shouting as the rocking causes Bruce’s cock to grind deep inside. The protrusion of his belly pokes at Bruce’s abdomen, but the man closes the meeting unruffled. 

Even when Tim comes again, more squirt spurting out of his cunt, Bruce’s voice never wavers, his hands never stall or grip tightly. They continue to smooth over the back of Tim’s head and shoulders, seemingly comforting a sick child. 

When the Zoom call finally ends, Bruce shoves Tim back and looks down at the mess of him in his lap. 

“Fuck, baby,” Bruce says lowly, now holding Tim still as he grinds his hips up. “Another man just witnessed you coming on my cock.” 

“He - he doesn’t know that,” Tim stutters, pressing both hands down on the bulge of Bruce’s cock in his stomach.  

“Maybe he does,” Bruce says, and then he takes hold of Tim’s hips and starts bouncing him. Tim shouts, sock-gag too far away for either of them to bother reaching for. 

Good thing Bruce’s office is sound proof. For the last hour of the work day, Bruce fucks Tim numb. He fills his womb up with several loads and gets Tim to squirt twice more. As they head down with the throngs of employees, Tim leans heavily on Bruce. 

Some of the workers coo at him, offering him well wishes and a speedy recovery. Tim plays into it, knowing he’s still flushed and sweaty from all the sex. His stride is uneven too, both because his pussy is throbbing and because Bruce shoved the wet socks up his cunt to act as a plug. 

The cotton chafes a little, but it’s not unpleasant. It’s better than leaving a trail of Bruce’s come as they go down into the garage and into Bruce’s lead-lined car. It’s recently been fitted with a bed in the back, and Tim knows his father plans to take advantage of that as they drive back to Bristol. 

“Are the socks clean?” Tim remembers to ask when Bruce pulls them out of his pussy. Now, they’re soaked in spit and sperm. 

“Of course, birdy,” Bruce frowns. “I would never stuff your holes with anything unsanitary.”

“Good,” Tim mumbles, parting the lips of his pussy. The socks soaked up some of the come, but Tim was pumped too full for them to handle even half of it. “Can you be gentle? I’m getting sore.” 

“Sure, son,” Bruce says. He seals it with an open mouthed kiss, pushing Tim onto his back. “I’ll be gentle,” he say after licking the roof of Tim’s mouth, “since we’re taking the long way back.”

Chapter Text

“Dad.” 

Jack groans, instantly so annoyed at being woken up that going back to sleep isn’t even an option. Beside him, Janet sleeps completely undisturbed, the lucky bitch. 

“Dad,” Tim says again, louder. 

It’s petty to ignore his own child, but they didn’t get home until midnight last night. They wasted hours at the airport trying to track down their lost luggage, and that was after a fifteen hour travel day. He just wants to sleep! Sue him!

But then Tim tugs on the sheet blanketing him. “What?” Jack hisses, whirling on his son. “What, Tim? Can’t you see I’m sleeping?” 

Tim doesn’t even flinch at Jack’s ire. He shuffles where he stands and confesses quietly, “I’m horny.” 

“You have toys. Use them,” Jack sighs, heat spawning in his groin despite his exhaustion. 

He can’t be blamed for that. They were in Egypt for two months, and Janet refused to fuck him through all of it. 

“I don’t want silicone,” Tim argues. “Please? I’ll do all the work.” 

Jack scoffs as he turns onto his back. “Sure, kid. It’s not like I’ve heard that before.” 

Tim’s rosy cheeks flush a deeper red, the color barely illuminated by the moonlight. He climbs into the bed, expertly settling on top of his father in a straddle. His nightgown rides up to his thighs, exposing his bare, hairless cunt. 

Dragging his fingers through his son’s slick folds, Jack clicks his tongue. “God, you’re such a slut. You couldn’t wait for a normal morning fuck?” 

“No,” Tim glares. His hips roll down onto Jack’s fingers, desperate. “You were supposed to come home two weeks ago.” 

Jack shoves two fingers into his son’s underage pussy and aims right for that spot that makes Tim cry. He hits it and sneers when Tim’s whole body jolts with pleasure. “If you really wanted cock, I’m sure you could have just gone next door. Wayne would eat you up.” 

Tim rolls his eyes, but his wet pussy clings to Jack’s fingers. He smacks them faster into Tim’s vagina, the wet sounds loud in the dark room. Jack glances at his wife and raises his brows when he finds her still sleeping. 

“She took the benzos,” Tim tells him, already panting. He slides his hand up the cuff of Jack’s boxer briefs and takes his father’s cock in his little hand. “You could fuck me on top of her and she wouldn’t wake up.” 

“Do you want me to?” Jack asks as he adds a third finger. “Since you’re so horny.” 

“Sure,” Tim snaps, squeezing his fist around Jack. “Just get your cock inside me.” 

So much for riding. Jack isn’t surprised, fully aware that his son is a spoiled slut. He shoves Tim over, rougher than he should be with his child but the point is well past moot. It’s not like he drew the line at having regular unprotected sex with his son. 

Tim topples onto the mattress, his head landing with a bounce on his mother’s thigh. Janet doesn’t so much as flinch, and Jack’s arousal grows hotter. He watches Tim’s legs spread and bend, pussy fluttering with the movement, flimsy nightgown pooling around his waist.

Jack’s mouth waters. He grabs the cotton and yanks, laughing when Tim yelps. His little tits jiggle as he plops back into place, his nightgown carelessly tossed into the corner of the room. What Jack is really excited to see is where Tim’s belly has begun to protrude with their growing child. 

He got the call two weeks after landing in Egypt. He missed the first three calls, but by the fourth, Jack was back in their hotel room with Janet hogging the shower. He answered expecting his son to want some phone sex, already missing him, but what he got instead was a teary, “Dad, I’m pregnant.” 

The phone sex that happened after that was the best they’ve ever had. Jack came twice to the image of his son pregnant with their baby, Tim’s little sibling, listening to the sound of Tim’s soaked, pregnant pussy bouncing on the handle of a hairbrush. 

This is the first he’s seeing of Tim’s bump. They don’t send pictures over text to minimize the risk of getting caught, and Tim was wearing a loose-fitted shirt when he opened the door for them a few hours ago. Jack cups the bump with his hands, pressing lightly down on the firm swell of his baby. 

“I can’t wait for you to get bigger,” Jack says, sliding one hand down to palm Tim’s pussy. “When do you think your mother is going to notice?” 

“When my water breaks,” Tim answers airily. “Come on, Dad. Put it in.” 

“Let me appreciate the view,” Jack tells him. The hand at Tim’s pussy is moved up to his tits. “These are going to fill up soon. You’ll let me taste, right?” 

“Sure.” 

“Good.” Jack sits back on his heels and jerks his cock a few times. “You know I always wanted more kids.” 

Tim nods shyly. “And Mom didn’t. I know.” 

“You’ll give me as many kids as I want, right?” Jack says. 

“It’s not like you ever use condoms.” Tim’s arms circle his belly. 

Jack nudges the head of his cock against Tim’s fluttering hole. “You don’t like condoms either.” 

Tim’s face grows petulant. “I’m just used to you fucking me raw. You always do! That’s your fault.” 

“Well, it’s not my fault you’re such a cockslut,” Jack says as he thrusts forward, sinking his cock in to its base. 

Tim cries out, turning his head into the fat of his mother’s thigh. “Fuck,” he moans. “Fuck, Dad. I missed you.” 

“You missed my cock,” Jack laughs, settling over his children and his wife to start pounding into Tim’s pussy. 

Jack fucks his son the way he always does: with the single purpose of making himself come. That’s how this all started in the first place. Janet was blueballing him, refusing to let him fuck her without a condom because she didn’t want to risk another pregnancy. It was a hard few months. Jack wasted way too much money at clubs and on escorts. 

He was at his wits end on the fortuitous day that he walked in on Tim riding the thick knob of his bedpost. Seeing that tiny pussy stretching obscenely around the wood furniture was the turning point of Jack’s life. That evening saw Tim’s virginity taken, his pussy fucked so thoroughly that he was still dripping with his father’s come at school the following day. Jack knows because he greeted Tim at the door for the first time in ages, eager for another go at his son’s cunt, and his arousal saw a new high when he found the mess in Tim’s underwear. 

Now, just a few years after that fateful night, Tim is carrying their incest baby and is still so easy for his father’s cock. He takes it like he has no other desire in the world, legs wide open and mouth spilling out whore-like moans and whimpers. 

“Harder,” Tim says, and Jack drops down, humping Tim so that his cock kisses his cervix. 

Janet’s sleeping body gets pushed towards the edge of the bed the harder Jack fucks their child. Tim grips her tightly, holding onto her thigh and waist for dear life as Jack saws in and out of his pussy. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” Tim whines, coming for the first time that night with his hand clutching his mother’s. 

Jack doesn’t stop. He fucks his baby’s pussy through his first orgasm, and keeps pounding him until he’s jerking with the second. After his third orgasm, Tim starts trying to squirm off Jack’s cock. 

“No,” Jack tells him, yanking him back to the hilt. A sensitive Tim is a Tim whose pussy is constantly fluttering and squeezing. “You wanted me to fuck you so bad, Timmy. I’m not going to stop until I’ve come.” 

Tim cries, tears fat as they roll down his cheeks and onto Janet’s stomach. “Dad,” he says, but then Jack kisses him and shuts him up with a hot load of seed deep in Tim’s cunt.

When Janet wakes up, Tim has finally been fucked to sleep. He lies tucked against Jack’s front beneath the covers, his used pussy warming Jack’s soft cock. 

“Mhh,” Janet groans, rubbing her hip. She squints. “What’s Tim doing here?” 

Jack’s cock throbs inside his son’s warmth. “He missed us, honey.” 

“Cute,” Janet deadpans. She crawls out of bed and uncharacteristically leans over to kiss the crown of Tim’s head. 

Sleeping, Tim’s pussy clamps down and Jack coughs to cover up his moan. Under the blankets, he cups Tim’s pregnant belly. 

God, it’s so sinful. Here’s his wife, the mother of their son, completely clueless to the fact that Jack is having an affair with said son. That Tim is going to give Jack a second child. His cock begins to stiffen inside Tim, and the boy lets out a groan. 

“I’ll get started on breakfast,” Janet sighs, walking over to the bathroom. “Just let me wash up first. I slept like shit.”

Jack has enough restraint to wait until the shower starts running to flip Tim onto his stomach for a morning round. That’s how Tim wakes, coming around his father’s cock, soaking the sheets underneath his body.

“Mom?” Tim asks, dazed.

“Bathroom,” Jack says. “Just be quiet and take it.” 

Tim does. Half asleep still, he spreads his legs and allows his father to fuck his bred pussy hard and fast until he’s taking another load. Tim doesn’t come again, but that’s perhaps for the best. There’s not that much mess to hide before Janet comes out in her daytime robe.

Later, at the kitchen table, Jack distracts his wife so Tim can slip away and throw up. Morning sickness is a bitch. 

But Jack knows just the thing to cheer his son up. He’ll wait for Janet to leave before telling Tim about the trip she’s taking to France next month. Alone. 

Chapter Text

It’s only on the quietest, stillest, and darkest of Bristol nights that he risks doing this. 

These nights don’t happen often, but they don’t need to. He is not a greedy man and, more importantly, Timothy deserves his rest. 

This is not to say that he treats the boy harshly. No. He could never. The others are capable of treating the young wife with that frantic aggression he so enjoys, but not him. 

When he turns down the duvet of the boy’s bed, he does so with the utmost care. First, he makes sure the bedroom is not too cold, that it won’t chill Timothy’s bare skin once it’s exposed. Still, as the blankets are pulled away from his body, Timothy’s little nipples pebble and goosebumps spread over his milk-soft skin. 

The boy runs cold. They all know this, and, usually, they take great care to make sure Timothy never sleeps in his bed alone. It’s not the only reason his bed never empties, sure, but it’s certainly a factor. 

Unfortunately, with the lives that the Waynes lead, it is not always possible to keep their Timothy company. They have responsibilities. Tonight, Bruce is in France for business, and Dick is off planet on mission. That leaves Jason and Damian to cover patrol and Alfred and Timothy to mind the children. 

And, once the children are in bed, if they still have enough energy, Jason and Damian will keep Timothy warm through the night. It’s not the amount of fucking their little Wayne matron has become accustomed to, but it is enough. 

Rather, almost enough. 

So here he is now, slipping into Timothy’s bedroom, the one he does not share with Bruce, and climbing slowly onto the mattress. Already, he sees how Timothy’s precious cunt glistens for him. The moonlight illuminates his parted thighs and the sex that waits in between, his milk-heavy breasts and his swollen belly. 

Beautiful. With a fond smile, Alfred caresses Timothy’s bump. Inside grows a stranger’s child, a man Bruce and Tim met in that alternate version of Gotham they vacation in often. Tim does not even know the man’s name, yet he’s been bred by him and will soon bear him a daughter. 

The Wayne Manor is full, however. Not literally, but there are only so many hours in a day. As a family, they can manage the twelve children Timothy has had with Bruce and his brothers as well as the one Timothy had with his biological father, but any more and they risk subjecting a child to neglect. 

Alfred and Bruce have discussed adoption. There’s a couple running a non-profit that WE funds who have been looking. They are good, loving people. Alfred has already drafted up the papers, though they have remained half-filled for months. 

There’s no use completing them when Timothy has not yet given his blessing. 

Bruce seems confident Timothy will, but Alfred expects some resistance. Timothy will argue that he can most definitely take care of another child, that he could never give up a baby born from his own womb. It will be a difficult conversation, yet Alfred is sure that, with time and patience and grace, Timothy will come to see the truth. 

Reverently, Alfred presses a peck to Timothy’s sleep-slack mouth. He keeps the kisses chaste, fully aware that those rosebud lips spent hours stretched around the girth of Jason’s cock. Before patrol, Timothy sat between Jason’s legs and warmed him during the length of a full movie. To help him relax, Timothy explained afterwards, voice raspy and pupils blown. 

Surely, his pretty mouth is sore. 

No matter. Alfred never uses Timothy’s other holes. When there is time, Alfred uses Timothy’s cunt and nothing else. 

When he enters the boy’s body, Timothy is loose and warm. Tighter than he would be with Bruce and Dick home, but without resistance. Alfred fucks in slowly, hiking Timothy’s thighs up and watching the moonlight glint off Timothy’s swollen clit. 

Despite having fathered his own children with Timothy, Damian is still not allowed to fuck Timothy’s pussy as he pleases. Occasionally, Bruce will allow his sons to have penetrative sex, but it has become more of a treat. A reward, even. 

That is because Bruce has realized that which Alfred did long ago. 

As he fucks young, sleeping Timothy’s well plowed cunt, Alfred carries no mixed feelings. This is their fortunate circumstance: Timothy, now over eighteen years old, does not look a day over thirteen. 

Alone, this is not suspect. Timothy has always been in the lower percentiles for size and mass. He’s always been the smallest Robin. But Alfred can see, thrusting gently against Timothy’s sealed cervix, that the boy’s morphology remains that of a preteen. His breasts grow only with milk, his hips widen with child, but nothing else about him has changed. 

Add to that the fact that Timothy’s children rarely fall ill. In fact, from the moment every member of this family started regularly plundering little Timothy’s pussy, they reported less injuries and illnesses. They too seem to have frozen in time, no longer aging visibly. Alfred feels this is his own old bones, suddenly sturdier and more spry than he was a decade ago. 

Whatever Bruce found to heal Timothy’s underage cunt from the trauma of being fucked by much older and bigger men has granted them all a well of youth. The babes born from the womb that is regularly covered in that alien balm are perfect. 

So Alfred never hesitates to take his pleasure with Timothy’s body. He knows the boy doesn’t mind his lovers using his cunt when he sleeps or has been drugged. He knows Tim would consent enthusiastically were Alfred to ever ask to fuck him. 

This is just the way Alfred prefers it. 

Sweet Timothy, pink with sleep and body splayed open, relaxed, round cheeks undisturbed by Alfred’s gentle thrusts, pussy fluttering lazily around Alfred’s cock. His breasts barely bounce as Alfred fucks him, and he presses softly against the baby bump of Timothy’s lower belly. 

There is so much gratitude in Alfred’s heart for the precious cunt wetly sucking him in. It has given his family so much. 

It hadn’t been hard to recognize the way Bruce needed Timothy. The boy’s age had of course given Alfred pause, but then he understood that Timothy needed Bruce just the same. Timothy had been lonely, but Bruce had been on a precipice. 

Timothy saved Bruce, a man that’s as good as Alfred’s son. On the worst nights, Alfred wondered about funeral arrangements. Now, he tends to the every need of his wonderful, beautiful grandchildren, and knows Bruce has never been happier. Had never expected such happiness. 

Alfred bends over Timothy’s belly and kisses his slack mouth again, attempting to pour his love and appreciation into the boy. They have asked much of little Timothy, but he has excelled in every way. Even now, he comes around Alfred’s cock, brows furrowed as the pleasure peaks and his nipples bead with milk. 

Licking it up, Alfred keeps his steady, gentle rhythm. When he makes love to Timothy, the last thing he seeks is to leave the little mother sore and aching. He would rather give the appearance of having never been in the room. 

In this way, it feels like a little secret, all Alfred’s own. He does his part in sating Timothy’s unending sexual appetite, feeding his pussy load after load on the rare nights they have the time and the opportunity. He leaves Timothy’s body clean of seed and tucked back into his covers, feeling young and energetic. 

In the morning, he’ll make the boys and the children breakfast. He’ll make sure Timothy and his brothers have opportunity to duck away for a fuck and for Damian to nurse. They’ll all get the children to school and bring the younger ones home. 

But now, Alfred closes his fingers around the little fat of Timothy’s breast and fucks his cock to the mouth of Timothy’s cervix. This sweet boy, this precious wife, this beloved mother. He feels Timothy’s swollen belly and thinks fondly of his own children. 

This is another secret that is all Alfred’s own. Twins run in his family.

Chapter Text

Tim never figures out what set Jason off. 

It’s not entirely relevant, but he’s a curious thing. He wants to know the justification for what Jason has done to him. To see if the cost was worth the reward. 

It happens like this: Tim is lazing about in the Manor’s great library, sitting by the fireplace as snow falls quietly upon the world outside. It’s a rare moment of peace, his pussy clean and concealed under worn sweatpants and an oversized sweater. A mug of hot chocolate steams on the table beside his favorite armchair. 

He’s considering taking a nap before he’s found by one of his lovers and fucked filthy all over again when the peace is violently and suddenly shattered. Tim can’t see the entrance to the library from his armchair, but he can hear the way the doors get smacked open and slammed shut. Then there’s heavy footfalls, ones that can only belong to Jason. 

That something is wrong registers when Tim hears the sound of books hitting the floor. In his right mind, Jason would never. This library is one of his safe spaces. 

Which means -

Jason steps into view, stiff and still, his vibrant green gaze locked on Tim. 

It must be a really bad day, Tim has enough time to think to himself. Usually, Jason’s eyes are more teal. Just as blue as they are green. Right now, Tim looks at his brother and sees the Pit looking back at him. 

“Jay?” Tim calls out, feinting casualness. Running when his brother is like this will only make things worse. 

Jason starts stalking forward, and Tim sinks into his seat. There’s no way out of this. The best thing about the armchair is that it’s situated between a massive shelf of the Wayne’s favorite books and a great, grand fireplace. Tim could, if he was desperate enough, try to squeeze through the narrow space between shelves and books, but he doubts he’d make it out in time. 

And Tim really doesn’t want to get cornered too close to a fire. 

“Okay, Jason,” Tim says, holding a hand up between them. “What’s going on? Do you want to talk ab-”

Without warning, Jason slaps Tim silent. 

There isn’t even enough time for Tim to recover from the shock and arousal that flares inside him. He rocks to the side with the force of Jason’s open palm, and then his brother is grabbing his thighs and shoving them against Tim’s chest. 

“Jay,” Tim gasps, feet kicking helplessly. Jason presses down on Tim’s chest until he can’t breathe, and Tim takes that as a sign to resist no further. He lets his legs flop over Jason’s shoulders and allows his sweatpants to get torn off. 

Jason plunges his cock into Tim’s pussy without removing Tim’s panties. For a few inches, Tim’s cunt takes both cock and cotton until, soaked and stretched, the panties tear and Jason’s cock hits Tim’s womb. 

“Fuck.” Tim’s voice barely makes a sound, so limited is his breath. And then Jason starts pounding his pussy, folding his smaller body in half, pressing him flat against the chair with his neck uncomfortably held up but the backrest. 

Jason growls whenever Tim tries to shift into a better position, his bruising grip growing painfully tight. Tim stills, his pussy already red from the force of Jason’s thrusts, and focused on controlling his breathing. 

The first time Jason comes, Tim is already seeing stars. He isn’t getting enough air. He’s orgasmed already, of course he has. When Jason fucks him like this, so brutally and without care, Tim can’t help but love it. It’s just so good, his pussy pulsing painfully as his insides are fucked to throbbing. 

But it’s not exactly safe. Jason isn’t thinking straight, and Tim is much weaker than him. Maybe if he still trained regularly, still sparred with his brothers every week. As a mother of seven, Tim just can’t. He doesn’t have the time, so he’s softened. 

He’s completely helpless as Jason drags him off the chair and shoves him to the floor. His legs instinctively land open, prepared for Jason to drop down on top of him and start fucking him again. Raping Tim. 

That’s what it is, in a way. Tim would have liked to keep reading his book and drinking his hot chocolate, but now he’s getting jerked around on Jason’s thick, burning cock. He’s going to stay on it until Jason’s pit madness calms or someone finds them and saves him. 

Eventually, Bruce will come looking for sex. Tim can bet on that. He just hopes he’s still okay when that happens. 

Able to breathe again, Tim makes a single attempt to reason it out with Jason. His brother smacks him again, harder this time, and then closes his fist around Tim’s throat. The other starts slapping Tim’s tits. 

“Jason!” Tim shouts, squirting around his big brother’s cock, shamelessly loving how Jason rapes him.

And his name is the only word Jason wants to hear from him like this. Anytime Tim tries something else, Jason will cut off his airflow, letting his grip loosen only when Tim’s eyelids begin to droop and his vision grows dark. 

He loses track of how long Jason rapes him on the floor. They slide closer to the fireplace, the heat of the flames growing warmer on the side of Tim’s tear streaked face. Eventually, the heat begins to bother Jason, because he gets to his feet, Tim still hanging off his cock, and leads them to the sofa where Bruce loves to fuck Tim stupid. 

His husband likes to pretend that they’re at school when he fucks him here. Jason puts his forearm against Tim’s throat and starts fucking him even harder. It hurts now, the strain of having Tim’s legs forced open starting to twinge. 

“Jason,” Tim says. 

Jason ignores him. His eyes blaze that vivid green and the next time his cock pierces Tim’s womb, Tim passes out. 

***

Tim wakes the next day in the infirmary. There’s an ice pack between his legs, cooling his bruised cunt. 

No vaginal penetration for four whole days. His insides need time to recover from the bruising and swelling. Tim is privately considering shoving an icicle past his lips but Alfred already said that’s not an option. 

The cost is high, Tim thinks, but there’s a dark heat in Jason’s eyes every time he looks at him. Like he’s playing the hours he spent fucking Tim unconscious over in his head. Like he’s looking forward to the next time. 

Tim thinks he might be too.