Once a Robin

requested by arrestedforhomestuckcrimes
insertLinkToAo3HereWhenSheComesBackFromTheWar

ship: Bruce Wayne/all the Robins
words: 2.3k
content: m!steph, gangbang, dubcon

Normally, Bruce didn't think of Robin, any Robin, as stronger than him. Maybe Jason nowadays, but not back then. But with a small army of Robins past and present pinning him down, it was starting to sink in there wasn't much he could do to resist. 

"Why? Well, it occurred to us that Spoiler and Signal never get the Robin recognition they deserve," Nightwing was saying, waving one of his escrima sticks around as he talked, like they were having a casual discussion about the weather. "And with Spoiler's new… condition, thought we'd do a little bonding exercise."

Nightwing said something else, but Bruce couldn't grasp what it was because at that moment Spoiler had pushed in past his rim, her breath damp and hot in his ear. 

"Bruce, you can't even imagine how much you belong in this position," she moaned to loud assent and cheering from the other Robins.

Ten minutes ago, Bruce had still been at a gala, thanking Gotham's brave vigilantes for saving his life and the lives of all those attending, expressing eternal gratitude on behalf of everyone present, and as an aside for the benefit of the cameras, joking about whether their little party really merited so many heroes. Then he was whisked away, with great flourish and assurances about needing to get him checked for injuries.

Bruce had thought they needed to discuss something important, perhaps requiring the immediate presence of Batman elsewhere, or possibly related to Spoiler's sudden anatomy reconfiguration and a way to reverse it.

Instead they were up on this balcony of a foreclosed penthouse with a good view of one of Ivy's rooftop gardens, and his pants were around his ankles, Red Robin was using his smoking jacket as a fashion accessory, and Spoiler was panting with her nose buried in his hair, asking the others if anal always felt so tight.

Before anyone could answer, she convulsed, groaning, and bit him painfully through his shirt, the motion of her hips faltering to an insistent press up into his sore asshole.

"Fuck," she cursed, pushing herself up to look around at the others. "Fuck."

Everyone except Robin laughed, and Nightwing said, "To answer your question, yeah, pretty much."

"I swear," said Spoiler, pointing at them accusingly, "if any of you so much as think of reversing the effects of that potion, I will beat you into bloody pulp." Pulling out, she added, "I'm going to fuck so many idiot middle aged men, you wouldn't even believe."

She zipped back up and patted Signal on the shoulder, taking his place restraining Bruce's left arm. "Your turn, Robin."

"Thanks, Robin!" he said, moving behind Bruce with a pep in his step.

"I would like to once again remind you all that I didn't consent to this," Bruce ground out as he tested Spoiler's hold on him. No give. "And you all better stop while you're ahead."

"Yeah, yeah," said Red Hood, and put more pressure on his right shoulder, so that Bruce's arm started to go tingly. "We heard you the first three times."

"I gotta say, I'm pretty excited," said Signal from behind Bruce, hands on his hips and running his cock up and down the length of Bruce's crack. "I've never had sloppy seconds before."

"Imagine how excited I am for," said Nightwing, hopping off the balcony railing and doing a quick headcount as he approached, "uh, sloppy sixths. Don't get that opportunity every day."

Signal pushed in and groaned in satisfaction as Spoiler whooped softly, eyes riveted to Bruce's backside.

"Who says you get to go last?"

Nightwing sighed. "Hood, if you want to go last, power to you. I've never had sloppy fifths before either."

Groaning again, Signal fucked Bruce leisurely, smoothly. "Are we taking our time with this or trying to wrap it up quickly?"

"Up to you," said Red Robin from somewhere behind where he and Robin were holding Bruce's shins tightly. "Robin's never fucked anyone before either, so he's probably gonna go as fast as Spoiler. The rest of us don't really have anyone to show off for."

"Just don't keep us here all night," added Robin very quietly. How had the others even put him up to this? Of everyone, he seemed the least enthusiastic, and while he was irritated and indignant with the others, Bruce was worried about his youngest. He was just sixteen, for crying out loud. They didn't really expect him to go through with something like this, did they?

"I got you, Robin," said Signal and picked up the pace, gabbing handfuls of Bruce's glutes and gripping tightly. Bruce groaned in discomfort, for which Duke only picked up the pace. "Gotta say," he added, huffing, "still pretty tight. Thought he would be looser after the first round."

There was a little snickering from those watching, but they stayed hushed, and looking around as much as he could, Bruce could see they were all watching intently. Using the opportunity, he heaved himself up off the patio rug.

Or, he tried to. 

Red Hood immediately leaned so much into his shoulder, Bruce almost dislocated his arm with the effort, and the others weren't half as distracted as they seemed. With one last groan, Signal seemed to come, slowing back down to deep, leisurely thrusts.

"Oof," he said, pulling out of Bruce with an affectionate pat to his ass, "I hope it doesn't say something about me that I came right as he tried to escape."

"I think it's a little too late for that," said Spoiler, reaching over to high five him.

"Okay, your turn, Baby Robin," said Signal, standing and moving to take Robin's post.

Bruce's stomach clenched as he felt Robin rise and move to stand behind him. He was just about to say something, anything to reassure his son and give him and out when Nightwing spoke up first.

"You know you don't have to if you don't want to, Robin."

"Who says I don't want to?"

"C'mon, kid, you've been quiet all evening," said Red Hood.

"Hey, leave him alone," spoke up Spoiler and shoved Red Hood's shoulder with enough force to shift the large man off balance, which got everyone's attention. "He's just nervous." 

Red Hood quickly repositioned himself before Bruce could take advantage. "That's what Nightwing's saying, he doesn't have to do this."

"Shut up, Hood," said Robin, sounding even more grumpy. "Just… don't look."

Everyone that Bruce could see immediately averted their gaze. After another pause, there came the sound of shifting fabric and a fly unzipping.

"Robin," said Bruce, "I really don't want you doing something you'll regret for the rest of your life."

"Shhhh," hissed Spoiler, still looking out at the city.

Robin didn't reply, but the tip of his cock pressed to Bruce's slick hole, immediately thrusting past it. Bruce could feel Robin pull back and line himself up with his fist. He pushed again, sliding in, and halting before making it all the way in, gasping slightly. 

After a few moments, he pushed forward again until his uniform pressed firmly to Bruce's backside. He held still, panting, then choking out a small high-pitched moan. Clearing his throat, he tried to grunt more lowly, and started moving his hips, erratically and quickly, making a lot of noise as the come leaking out of Bruce squelched between their bodies and dripped down to their balls. Everyone remained silent, not shifting a single muscle as the ball-slapping died off as suddenly as it started and Robin collapsed across Bruce's back with a high cry, panting through his teeth. When Robin's breath finally started to even out, which took longer than his thrusting had lasted, Spoiler cautiously lifted one hand and reached back without looking.

Robin high-fived her tiredly and pulled out, fumbling with his costume.

"I'm done," Robin mumbled quietly, still rooted to the spot.

Red Hood immediately turned around and clapped him on the shoulder, and Bruce heard Robin stumble under the pressure. Everyone whooped and offered their congratulations.

"Yeah, whatever," said Robin, sounding pleased. "Who's next?"

He shuffled off to switch places with Red Robin, and Bruce, still shell-shocked from the experience, heard Signal clapping him on the shoulder, offering one last heartfelt and quiet commendation. 

"Now that's one messy hole," commented Tim, unzipping. "Bet it's starting to get pretty loose too."

"I honestly think it should stay loose," said Spoiler, shifting her weight. "We should make this a regular thing. How's 7 o'clock sound? Quick warm-up before patrol."

Red Hood snickered. "Our costumes will get so skanky."

"Skunky, even," added Nightwing.

"All musk, all the time," agreed Signal.

Spoiler shrugged. "All to help us intimidate or foes better. Hey, so how's sloppy fourths treating you?"

Red Robin had pushed in and was fucking Bruce leisurely, hands on the small of his back and leaning all his weight into them. "Like throwing a hotdog down a hallway."

Robin burst out laughing harder than anyone, though the joke went down great with the whole group to Bruce's neverending chagrin. You think you're doing a great job raising your kids and then they go and turn out like this. Red Robin waited until everyone had finished chuckling before continuing. "No, it's great. Nice and smooth. Tight and hot. I'm with Spoiler on this one; we could totally make this a regular thing."

Grunting softly, Red Robin shifted gears and shifted his weight down harder on Bruce's back, picking up the pace. The sound of his balls slapping echoed between the Robins as they all watched hungrily, Nightwing palming himself loosely through his costume.

Red Robin didn't take long, burying himself in deep and staying there as he breathed deeply with great satisfaction. Finally groaning, he pulled out. "Yeah, it seems weird to really try to drag things out when everyone's standing around waiting."

"Right? I kinda thought I'd take my time," said Signal, "but like. People got places to be."

"My turn!" said Nightwing and playfully bumped Red Robin out of the way, who shoved him back in turn and a small scuffle broke out behind Bruce, with the others yelling encouragement. Finally, Red Robin broke off with a laugh and walked off, still trying to get his costume to zip up.

"Unbelievable," said Nightwing, making short work of pushing into Bruce. "No respect for your elders."

"You know, I vaguely remember there was once this other guy I was Robin for," Robin piped up. "Rick Mason? Nick Hayson? Maybe we could all fuck him next."

"Oh, yeah!" said Signal. "I know that guy! Great ass."

Nightwing jerked harder up into Bruce as someone, likely Signal, slapped him on the ass.

"I hear we wouldn't even have to go very far," added Spoiler. "We could do it tonight!"

"Hilarious, guys," said Nightwing, "I don't think he's had his monthly crack-waxing, though. Come back next week."

The others broke out into whoops and catcalls.

"God, he's really sloppy now, huh?" Nightwing continued, and the others agreed in a variety of grunting and "Uh-huh." All around the patio echoed the rude and messy noises of churning come and wet farts, filling in the space between Nightwing's neat rhythmic thrusting. "Hood, you wanna see if he's loose enough to take two?"

"Hell yeah. Red Robin, hold my purse."

And to much cheering all around, as Red Robin relieved Red Hood's vigil over Bruce's right shoulder, the Hood stood and moved to join Nightwing.

"I don't think this is a good idea," said Bruce, his guts working themselves into knots.

"You're wrong, it's the best idea of the night," said Spoiler, pressing him down into the ground more tightly as Nightwing paused his motions and leaned forward, his dick pulling up uncomfortably inside Bruce. With a bit of cursing and shoving each other, he and Red Hood rearranged their limbs and had Robin and Signal help them lift Bruce's hips off the ground for better access.

When Red Hood finally pushed in alongside his brother, Bruce thought he'd lose his vision from the sudden overload on his senses. He choked, trying to lurch away from the massive intrusion, but was held soundly back by the other Robins, who all hollered in victory.

Nightwing and the Hood's motions were awkward, hardly rhythmic, but they made up for it with sheer force, ramming into him hard and fast and leaving him breathless and sore.

Gasping and clutching at Bruce's sides with soft murmurs of coordination, "Are you?" "Yeah, I'm." "Me too." "Say when." "Yeah, wait." "Okay." "Okay," they came together, shuddering so hard, Bruce felt like they would shake them apart.

Around them, all the other Robins let go of their prey and broke into applause.

As Bruce tried to recollect his mind from wherever it had run off at the shock, the others slowly got to their feet, clapping each other on the back, helping Nightwing and Red Hood stand.

""You guys know he got hard, right?" asked Signal.

"Oh, is he hard?" Spoiler asked, laughing and bending over for a look under Bruce's hips. "That's hilarious. Great job, everyone!"

"Here," said Red Hood, and Bruce saw a few fivers float down in front of his face. "In case you're too sore to walk home and need a cab."

Red Robin added another twenty to the cash. "And maybe buy yourself something nice. I think you've earned it."

Then, laughing and making plans for the rest of the night, they were off, leaving behind only the soft hiss of six grapple lines shooting off in unison.

Book Worms

requested by za-of-emalza
insertLinkToAo3HereWhenSheComesBackFromTheWar

participants: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd
words: 1.1k
content: tentacle monster, dubcon

"Come on in, the tentacles are warm."

Jason dropped his equipment bag, mouth agape. What the actual fuck were Tim and Damian doing? 

His two siblings sat… in a pool of limbs. Prehensile, undulating, turquoise limbs. Right in the middle of the manor library, where his usual favorite reading spot was.

He noted, upon closer observation, that male human abdomens were not meant to stretch like that. Both Tim and Damian were nursing large bellies that might have looked like pregnancies if not for the odd, unnerving writhing which was happening inside them and the obvious erections each of his brothers sported.

The question was, how the hell was he going to get them out of that tangle of tentacles? And also, he thought as he drew his guns, said tentacles were getting entirely too close to him for comfort.

He shot one, sidestepping another, then ran to the grand library windows, tearing a curtain free. Firing off a few more shots, he sheathed his guns and kept moving, ripping the curtain as it trailed behind him. The tentacles withdrew at being injured, but appeared to otherwise recover quickly, which was another problem to account for. He cursed himself for not having all his equipment on him. A graple would be helpful. Comms would be great. Where the hell were Alfred and Bruce? 

It didn't take him long, sticking to the edges of the library, to complete his makeshift rope. He dashed up a spiral staircase, and tying a paperweight to one end, tossed his lifeline to his siblings.

Tim stared at the paperweight and the attached strips of curtain blankly. Dmian didn't even notice it.

"C'mon. What the hell, you two?"

Whatever drugs that thing was pumping must have been something else. Jason looked around for another way to get to the two before it was too late without getting tangled up himself, and came face to face with a turquoise tendril. He barely had time to reach for his guns when it misted as a fine purple cloud right in his face.

The gun slipped from his fingers. Jason stumbled, trying to still keep his feet under him as he felt them losing strength. He barely made it two steps in the direction of the hall when he fell to his knees.

Muscular, smooth tentacles scooped him up.

With horror, Jason checked his voluntary movements and found each one fizzling out, leaving him incapacitated as he was pulled towards the center of the library.

"Tim," he called as he was brought close, "how the hell did this thing get here?"

Tim smiled peacefully, reaching out to stroke Jason's face. "Damian and I summoned it. A happy accident. Trust me, you'll love it."

And then Tim ws flipped over in the grip of he monster and Jason watched as Tim's anus was violated by a fourth thick appendage, trailing some thick and creamy-looking goo past the stretched rim. Tim moaned and hissed, "Yes,'' as a thick glob of it slid down his thigh.

Jason had his own problems however as his own clothes were stripped away with easy rips and tears. Jason's stomach turned a somersault as he watched his gun holsters be lifted off and casually tossed away. He tried again to struggle, but his limbs didn't move as ordered.

A soft tentacle circled his rim, then poked inside. Fine, this was about one of the worst things he could imagine happening to his day, but he still had an ace up his sleeve. Jason took a deep breath.

"Bruce!"

The name echoed around the library and faded to complete silence except for Tim giggling softly next to him. Jason tried yelling again, watching a second tentacle approach his rear as his legs were spread obscenely by other appendages. 

"You're right. I think Father would appreciate this," Damian finally spoke up, looking relaxed and even somewhat bored as he watched his stomach writhe and distend. "I don't have my comms or I would contact him myself."

Jason had to bite down a moan as the second appendage grew in girth from the small little finger-sized tip to wider than a dick. A moan?

He froze as he looked between his legs.

He was getting hard.

Not even registering pleasure mentally, it occurred to him that all of his body felt not just limp, but relaxed and pleasant. Shaking his head mentally if not physically, Jason tried to think clearly. What were his options?

But thinking clearly was easier said than done and he found himself watching with morbid interest as the appendages in Tim's ass pulled out, leaving his hole gaping wide and dropping globs of thick creamy substance. Tim turned and ran a finger through some of the goo that stuck to his leg, putting the finger in his mouth and humming contentedly.

"Wait, Tim, you can move?"

Damian snorted. "Of course we can move. You'll be able to move soon too. Just wait until it fills you with its seed and you'll be free."

"You're not free."

Damian sat up. "I'm perfectly free, Todd. I can do anything I want."

"Then leave!"

Tim rolled over closer to him across the thick mass of writing turquoise limbs and leaned down to kiss him. PUlling away he smiled down at Jason. "Leave where? It's so nice here. Look, it's almost ready to fill you too."

Jason looked down again as Tim placed his hand on Jan's stomach and reeled in horror. HOw much time had passed? His stomach had swelled up to almost half the size of Tim's and was writhing just as much. He could no longer see his own dick, nor see how many tentacles had wormed their way inside him. When had the monster done all this? How had he not felt it? If he focused, he could sense that his entire rim stung, stretched to capacity and perhaps further. And he could sense how queasy he felt with a belly full of something malicious and moving. 

But if he didn't focus, everything just felt… nice.

And it was getting so hard to focus.

Suddenly, he saw the size of his belly surge under Tim's gentle hold, the mass inside him wriggling and swelling, and his vision blanked. He felt himself coming, thrusting up into open air. A warm hand wrapped around him, and he cracked an eye open to see Tim's pleasant and blank expression watching him with affection.

"See?"

And Jason did see.

As euphoria spread out from his belly and gave him back his strength, Jason saw for the first time that there's nowhere he'd rather be.

Sixteen

requested by talysalankil
insertLinkToAo3HereWhenSheComesBackFromTheWar

ship: Bruce Wayne/Damian Wayne/Jason Todd
words: 2.2k
content: bondage, incest, underage

Bruce was on high alert. 

This little game of theirs wouldn't be any fun if it were easy for Bruce to squirm out of his restraints until Jason judged him good and ready, and they had both invested effort into improving the system until there was nothing Bruce could do to escape.

Total surrender.

But Bruce could sense that he was at someone else's mercy tonight. 

The footsteps had been lighter than Jason's. He'd sensed their hesitation when they walked in. The hands exploring his body were definitely smaller. Bruce tensed. Tim? He would have never thought Tim Drake would be just as filthy as he and Jason were. Tim had always been more… compartmentalized. Tidy. If Bruce weren't so soundly gagged, he would have told Tim he was better off not doing this. It wasn't worth the doubt and regret that he'd have to nurse later. Braced as he was for the impending trauma to his adopted son, nothing prepared him for the voice he finally heard when his molester finally spoke up. 

"I wonder who you were waiting for, Father."

Bruce gagged. He whipped his head around to face his son. His biological son. In the suffocating silence, they could both hear his stomach start to churn, and Bruce wouldn't put it past Damian to hear the thundering of his heart.

Sneering, snarling, dropping his voice to its most commanding timbre, Bruce jerked his head violently towards the door, and said, "Get. out," clipping his consonants in the back of his throat as cleanly as he could to get his message past the large ball gag cranking his jaw open.

Damian didn't leave.

He sat kneeling at Bruce's left side, one hand reaching across to softly pinch Bruce's right nipple, and smoothing over Bruce's flank with the other. 

Then the nipple was abandoned and Damian's hand slid low, past Bruce's cock, cupping his balls, thumb pressing and massaging each one. Bruce reacted violently, shaking his shoulders to try to break out of the restraints or at least snap free from being trussed up against the column behind him. 

Would that he had been a little more absent minded today.

But he'd wanted it so bad today. He'd been meticulous with every fastening. He wanted to have to kneel and wait until Jason got here with no chance of escape. And if Jason was held up as he sometimes was, and Bruce had to wait for hours without any respite? All the better.

So there was no escaping his bonds. Nothing to do but sit here and suffer Damian's slim fingers squeezing his nutsack experimentally, now gently, now hard enough to cause Bruce to groan and double over as much as his restraints allowed.

He spoke again, and again it was only the best he could do around the gag. "Stop."

Damian gave his balls one last hard squeeze, the other hand still lovingly caressing the small of his back, before raising his grip to the head of Bruce's cock and clenching tight.

Caught between a moan and foul curses, Bruce growled to prevent all of the above.

Damn that Cialis, and damn whatever his monstrous brain was thinking, but he was hard and getting harder. 

Damian's soft mouth appeared at his cheek, kissing him over the stubble, and when Bruce jerked his head away, his son kissed the side of his neck, which was even worse. Jerking his head back to push Damian from his neck didn't help - Damian merely ducked down and kissed his chest.

And all the while, he kept stroking Bruce's cock. With horror, Bruce realized he'd been thrusting up into the touch without realizing it and froze.

"Damian," he attempted to enunciate again. "You're sixteen. Stop."

Damian clicked his tongue and pulled away, resting both hands on Bruce's hips.

"Why do you even bother using a gag if you're so good at making yourself understood?"

They sat there a moment in silence, Bruce angry and horny, glaring at his young son through the blindfold, his cock throbbing and starting to leak in earnest. 

Then Damian stood. And with horror, Bruce registered the unmistakable sound of clothes coming off.

Damian made quick work of it, then kneeled back down to undo Bruce's gag.

The moment his mouth was free, Bruce began to assault him rapid fire. "Damian, this is a huge breach in boundaries. You had no right coming in here. You're too young for this, too young for me, and I want you out of my room immediate - " 

He was interrupted by something soft being shoved into his mouth, and before he could resist, it was shoved all the way in and plugged back up with the gag, leaving Bruce literally gagging as the fabric brushed the back of his throat.

Judging by the taste, it was Damian's sock.

"Now, Father, I really don't care. So put a sock in it."

Both hands returned to his cock, squeezing, massaging, twisting, and Bruce thought he might start crying every time Damian's thumb ran across the slit and his cock jumped eagerly in those slim, strong hands.

Damian let go, shifting, and the next time Bruce felt something touch him, it was Damian's backside. Pert, soft buttocks, goose-pimpled, covered in soft hair, and much cooler than Damain's hands had been, pressed insistently against Bruce's crotch. His young body, despite being bound up with muscle, still had prominent shoulder blades that pressed hard into Bruce's chest. Bony elbows bumped into him as Damian got himself settled, moaning, reaching back to grab Bruce's sides, his buttocks.

And there was nothing Bruce would really say now, not with the sock so soundly lodged halfway down his throat. There was nothing he hadn't already said. And his dick, brushed gently by the cool skin and soft hairs of his son's buttocks, grew only harder as he imagined pressing it between the mounds of shapely muscle and into the hotter, hairier crevice between them, and past that…

Bruce shuddered head to toe.

He said "Stop," again, best he could, but it was only half-hearted at this point. Futility was staring him down, and Bruce was just here to absorb whatever other shocks and bumps fate had in store for him tonight.

Damian spoke up, one hand squeezing Bruce's thigh, the other could be heard clearly stroking his own dick. "I've been wanting to try this for ages. Father, you have no idea how much porn I watch every day. But it's like I'm on the outside looking in, just like at school. Sex is for normal people. Well-adjusted people. I'm a freak. I'm damaged. Even you and Dick still think it sometimes. I see it in your eyes. Imagine my surprise as I walked around the house, thinking about a nice big dick, and opened the door only to find the exact object of my desire waiting for me, already half-hard."

Bruce wanted to argue, but there wasn't a single intelligible sound he could get past his improved gag and Damian was reaching back for his dick, lining it up with his rim, and all Bruce could do as his head slipped into that willing and impossibly tight heat was to refrain from thrusting up into it.

He heard Damian curse under his breath about the size, and there certainly didn't seem to be enough lube involved, but he was too far gone to even worry about his son anymore, his brain on refrain repeating, "I'm not going to last. I'm not going to last. I'm not going to last."

His arms strained against the restraints as Damian began to move experimentally and to Bruce's great shame, it wasn't to escape. He wanted so badly to grip those narrow, inexperienced hips and slam them down onto him properly, make Damian cry out and beg and try to pull back off, saying it was too big and too fast, and have no choice but to continue to be reamed out. He wanted Damian to repent and beg for more lube, which he clearly hadn't noticed lying nearby, and had only used Bruce's precome and perhaps his own saliva. He wanted Damian to be so sore, his abused hole to be gaping so wide, that his son would never even think about taking anything else in the ass ever again.

"Looks like you could use a little more lube."

Damian gasped, and Bruce's head jerked in the direction of the familiar voice.

"If you're cringing that bad trying to ride someone, and not even getting the whole length in, you're not doing it right," Jason continued sympathetically. He'd entered the room through the window without making a noise, but now he moved with heavy, commanding footfalls towards them, making a small detour to where Bruce always left the bottle of lubricant.

"Todd…" Damian began, voice defensive and angry.

"Save it, rugrat, and get off his dick."

Bruce sagged in relief.

But Damian didn't go far. He'd only just pulled off of Bruce's twitching dick when Jason kneeled down next to them. There was the sound of the lube cap clicking. Damian squawked indignantly, which was followed by obscene squelching right above Bruce's lap.

Bruce waited, suspecting the unbelievable, but not daring to believe it.

Then Damian, shins still pressed to Bruce's shins on either side, moaned. And Jason, absolute monster that he was, leaned in to kiss Bruce's brow.

"Hey, B. Can't believe you would get started without me like this."

Bruce tried to grunt in protest, tried to pull against his restraints again, but Jason was either fucking or fingerbanging his son right in his lap, and this sole thought consumed him, leaving him throbbing and dying to get back inside Damian's perfect little hole.

"That should be enough. How about we test it out?"

With a slick hand, Jason grabbed Bruce's cock and held it in place as Damian sat back once more.

This time, he sank deep, smoothly, only restrained by Damian's own muscles twitching nervously around him.

"There we go. Better, right?"

"Much," Damian admitted, voice faint and shaking.

"I hope you don't mind if I help out? Daddy dearest likes it deep and rough."

And Damian started moving at a pace that suggested Jason was gripping his hips and setting the tempo. Damian yelped, then moaned, then cried out, all while his hands scrambled for purchase, trying to cling to Bruce's legs but torn away by Jason's punishing pace.

Bruce had no chance of holding out longer than he did. Moaning low but loud, he thrust up into Damian's tight hole as he lost control, awash with warm fuzzy pleasure. In his lap, Damian continued to be bounced, punching soft little sounds from him, and extending Bruce's deep orgasm.

Jason finally let up, and Bruce grunted in gratitude, feeling his cock twitch inside Damian's pulsing muscles.

"Had enough, kid? Or want one more? This one's even bigger."

Bruce would hear Damian's swallow. He could feel through his dick, the way the body balanced on top of his bobbed, that Damian nodded.

"No problem. Turn around."

Damian sat facing Bruce, his nose and mouth pressed to Bruce's neck, soft nervous breaths tickling across Bruce's skin. Wiry but muscular arms wrapped around Bruce's neck, and for a moment, Bruce was once again struck by the realization that this was his child, his son.

But then Damian moaned and the notion evaporated as he was rocked into Bruce's body by Jason's harsh thrusts. Bruce felt Damian's knees slide apart wider.

Damian started to grunt with the thrusts, pushing back.

"You gonna jerk yourself off or do you want me to do it?"

After a brief moment of deliberation, Damian's right arm unwrapped itself clumsily from Bruce's neck and disappeared.

Bruce had just one last time to remember who exactly was leaning on him, who was panting desperately and sweetly into his ear, when Damian's come landed on his junk, and Damian arched, moaning much more loudly than anyone else in this bedroom ever had, setting Bruce on edge.

Sixteen.

Christ, he was never going to wash down the guilt.

As Damian panted between them, Jason reached over to undo Bruce's gag and pull the sock out.

"Damian and I are going to go wash up, and then I'll come back to untie you."

Bruce nodded numbly. Jason had left him in more uncomfortable situations before.

"And then maybe we can all go for round two. Happy birthday, Bruce."

Bruce tensed. "What?"

"Oops, gotta go. C'mon, Damian, time to hit the showers."

As they scrambled away, Bruce's blindfolded world started to tip sideways.

"You tricked me into coming here, knowing he'd be like this?" he heard Damian ask, moving in the direction of the master bath.

"I may or may not have dug up your stash of Batman and Robin porn while we had our little blackmail war a while back. Wanted to see what you'd do. Not like I made you come in here and sit on his dick. That was allll you, little brother."

Bruce beat his head against the column behind him. Jason was going to be the absolute death of him.

Carrot and Knot

requested by my own brainworms
insertLinkToAo3HereWhenSheComesBackFromTheWar

ship: m!Cassandra Cain/Duke Thomas/Tim Drake/Damian Wayne
words: 1.2k
content: alpha/alpha, knotting

Cass was quite proud of the other Bats. 

They never had the same start she did in life or have the same opportunities to achieve excellence. Which is all for the best because she wouldn't wish that level of isolation on anyone. But they've overcome their late start in life and really improved in leaps and bounds since she formulated their new training methodology.

Still panting harshly, she pulled her knot out of Duke's tight grip, savoring the way the rim pulsed around the length of her dick, trying to pull her back in. Duke lay limp and exhausted under her, come spilling prodigiously out of his reamed out asshole as she sat up and looked at the training room's doorway, where Tim stood nervously, hands subconsciously clasped behind him, over his pert ass.

 Like that would stop her. He'd have to fight for his life if he didn't want another rough pounding today.

She offered Duke a hand and heaved him to his feet. 

Legs wobbling, come sliding down the backs of his thighs and dripping on the mat, Duke thanked her and stumbled to one of the benches along the wall, where he sat down gingerly.

Stretching her arms over her head, Cass's gaze returned to Tim.

"Well? Did you come to train or are you just stopping by to say hi?" she asked, letting her arms fall and stroking her dick as it stirred again.

Of course he was here to train. He'd come naked. That was Cass's rule. Show up naked and ready to spar or don't bother her during training hours.

Taking a deep breath and stealing himself, Tim stepped forward.

He'd improved a lot. Sparring with him was getting to be more fun than ever before, and lasted much longer. But she'd caught sight of Duke shifting restlessly and getting up to leave, so it was time to end this. As humiliating and embarrassing as it was for alphas to get knotted and bred, as effective of an incentive as it was to fight harder to avoid getting pinned, the whole thing was much more effective with an audience.

Tim wouldn't be able to meet Duke's eyes for days if not weeks.

Cass tripped him up and in the end it was as simple as that. NExt moment, she had him on the mat, struggling ineffectively, her cockhead pushing past his rim, still puffy and swollen from their sparring match two days ago.

Duke stopped in his tracks as Tim cried out, turning to watch.

It was hard for an alpha to resist a good show, even if they'd just gone through the exact same humiliation themselves only half an hour ago and were still nursing their wounded pride.

Cass never bothered to draw it out.

So long as the family was going along with her training regiment, there would always be plenty more holes to breed than she really had time to savor.

Tim continued to struggle and yowl in pain as she pushed in, clawing at the mat to try to get away as she fucked him with her large cock, stretching his hole obscenely. Her knot swelling since before she'd pinned him down, it made him cry out every time she pushed it in or pulled it out, before finally thrusting all the way in and waiting for it to tie them together. Pleasure rolled in waves over her as orgasm hit.

Punching the mat in frustration, Tim ground out, "I thought I'd have you this time."

"Your footwork. Still gives you away. Meditate more," she said, letting go and laying down comfortably on top of him.

He reached back to grab her hips and pull her out, but it was too late and he only hurt himself trying. Cass propped her head up on one elbow and winked in Duke's direction, watching him jerk off.

"Come here," she called to him, and he did as asked. "Come on his face?"

Duke, his pupils blown wide, stared at her a minute, before zeroing in on Tim's aghast expression.

"Uh, you sure? I mean, I'd love to, but-"

"Don't even think about it," Tim ground out ferociously, face furiously red.

Duke swallowed, glancing at Cass again before grinning slightly and moving in.

"Actually, no need to tell me twice," he said, kneeling down and stroking himself quickly, his knot soft but his dick twitching as he pointed it down to Tim's face. 

As Tim started to struggle again, she lifted herself up and put her weight into pressing his head down into the mat with one hand, pinching his left shoulder with the other to keep his arm numb and ineffective.

Duke came fast, not as copiously as he would have if he was buried to the hilt in someone, but still sending thick and pungent milky ropes of come to drip down Tim's cringing face, over his cheeks and nose and chin.

As soon as Cass let Tim's head go, he buried his face into the mat and didn't struggle or speak any further.

"What's going on?"

Cass and Duke turned to look at the entrance to the training room, where a very confused Damian stood with his hands cupped in front of him, eyeing Duke warily.

"Bonus training. Tim needed extra motivation. Duke, you can go."

"Sure thing." Looking a little happier than he usually would with his ass leaking Cass's come, Duke stood, and walked past Damian, giving him a friendly wave which Damian ignored, looking a little anxious.

"Don't worry. You're too young for extra motivation," said Cass, testing whether or not she could pull out yet. "Your turn soon. Sit."

Swallowing loudly enough for the sound to carry across the training mat, Damian nodded, and tried to find a spot on the bench that wasn't covered with come that had leaked out from Cass's previous sparring partners that day. He finally perched himself on the corner, flinching as his thigh touched a sticky puddle.

Below him, Tim was starting to sniffle, all the fight gone out of him.

He was a good, determined alpha.

He'd be an even more worthy opponent next time.

xxx

Spent and chafing a little after her second time fucking Bruce that day, Cass walked bonelessly into her room to get a nap in before patrol.

"Boys kept you busy today, huh? I was starting to really miss my girlfriend."

Steph sat perched on the edge of Cass's bed, leisurely stroking her cock with a playful glint in her eye.

"So glad to see you," Cass said, shutting the door behind her. "Need a real alpha. Boys are useless."

"That they are," said Steph and got up to kiss her, pushing her towards the bed, hands already groping Cass's rear.

It was obvious who among the two of them would win in a fight, but that's not why Cass was dating Steph. Sometimes you met an alpha with knot game so good that all your alpha instinct got overwritten and you wanted nothing more than to be pounded into the mattress until your brains turned to mush. And after a long hard day training and reaming out others, there was nothing better than getting just that.

Sweat

requested by my own brainworms
insertLinkToAo3HereWhenSheComesBackFromTheWar

ship: Damian Wayne/Jason Todd/Duke Thomas/Tim Drake
words: 1.4k
content: armpit worship, boys will be boys

Sweat damian/jason/duke/tim, armpit worship - for ME uwu

Damian's nose was pressed too firmly to his underarm for the feeling to be ticklish. Jason could feel himself blushing and hardening as Damian moaned and pressed closer, pushing Jason painfully into the lockers behind him. Damian's wet tongue brushed against his skin, seemingly unconsciously, accidentally slipping past his parted lips, but the next moment, Damian's whole mouth was pressed firmly to Jason's pit, sucking so hard Jason's vision went spotty.

"What the hell am I looking at?" 

Tim and Duke stood in the doorway, flushed and sweaty from their workouts and mouths agape.

Damian spun around, pressing his back Jason's chest in panic. "You," he breathed, as though Tim and Duke had no right to be here, as though he'd forgotten entirely that they were in the shared dressing room.

Jason clapped Damian on the shoulder reassuringly. "Just satisfying a little teenage curiosity. Why don't you guys hit the showers; you reek."

The guys didn't move.

"What kind of curiosity?" Duke asked.

"Apparently armpits are sensitive enough to be erogenous zones," Tim replied mildly without tearing away his gaze, "but how Todd could convince Damian to suck his stanky armpit is beyond me."

"Hey, I'm not in the business of convincing sixteen year olds to be doing me any weird favors in the locker room," Jason said, lifting both hands defensively. He was already guilty as charged of fooling around in a weird way with someone way younger than him. He didn't need any additional blame.

Damian lifted his chin defiantly. "Not that any of you could convince me to do anything I deemed below me anyway."

"So you just walked up to Todd and asked, 'Hey can I sniff your pit?' Weird," said Tim, scrunching up his nose.

That's not exactly what happened, but it was a good enough summary. The real version of the story also involved Damian trying to hide his erection and angrily slamming Jason into the lockers when that failed. Also Damian hadn't used so many words. It was pretty cute, actually, the way he'd nosed shyly to his destination, breathing so rough you'd think he was already getting sucked off.

"Wanna sniff mine?" Duke asked jokingly, lifting his left arm to show off his hairy pit and strong tricep. Tim grinned at him.

Oof, wrong move, thought Jason as Damian tensed, pressing himself harder against Jason.

"Yes."

The two guys across the bench from them jerked out of whatever other joke they were sharing, looking at Damian with wide eyes.

"Seriously?"

"I'm always serious, Thomas."

Duke looked to Tim. Then he shrugged and came forward. "What the hell. Knock yourself out, kid."

Yeah, that's what Jason had said.

Tim came trailing behind Duke, peering at Damian and Jason curiously, eyes catching onto Jason's boner and giving him a reproachful stare.

Jason shrugged and turned his attention to Duke, who was stepping over the bench and once again lifting his arm. Phew. Yeah, the smell was just about enough to knock someone out. Not that he was any better after a workout.

Damian, however, latched on like a remora, moaning as he wrapped his hands around Duke's waist, wiping that sheepish grin right off his face as he stared down at Damian in shock. Duke stood still, only his eyes wandering between Jason and Timm, looking for clues on how to react in such a situation.

"Huh," Tim said, as though he'd just learned something new and deeply fascinating, perhaps even useful. He listed his arm experimentally and took a sniff, but made a face. Then he looked at Jason and raised his brows, as if to say, "You interested?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "I guess I'll go hit the shower if you're done with me." He had only just pushed away from the lockers when Damian's hand swung out to grip the top of his shorts.

"Stay, Todd."

And then Damian was back, pressing close, still keeping one fist balled up in Duke's tank, licking at Jason's chest where it met his bicep until Jason obliged and lifted his arm again.

Tim raised his brows at Duke.

Duke shrugged. "Feels really good, actually."

Jason could feel Tim's curiosity starting to boil over. Along with the jealous tilt to his mouth, he could see what was coming from a mile away.

"Alright, I'll bite. What's a guy gotta do to get his armpit licked around here?"

Damian ignored him and switched back to Duke, leaving Jason's underarm wet and cold and his dick harder than ever. Reaching out with one hand, he tugged the elastic of Damian's shorts down experimentally. Just half an inch of skin, nothing major. Rather than turning around and stabbing him to death, Damian perked his ass up a little.

Well.

That was as much encouragement as a guy really needed.

Jason reached over and pulled Damian's shorts and jockstrap down with both hands, letting them flutter to his ankles.

"Whoa, hey," Duke breathed, looking at him with wide eyes. "We really doing this?"

Jason shrugged, drawing both of them close as he wrapped his hand around Damian and gave him an experimental squeeze. 

Damian bucked wildly, letting his mouth fall from Duke's armpit and moaning.

"Here's your chance, Timmy," said Jason, turning to Tim, who was straight up stewing by now.

Glaring at Jason but a slave to his curiosity, Tim stepped over the bench, and exchanging a brief glare with Damian, lifted his arm as he pressed close. 

Damian didn't need any convincing.

He pressed his nose into Tim's underarm hair and sniffed deeply before licking over the whole area. The somewhat hostile look on Tim's face melted immediately, leaving him looking surprised and just short of delighted. He pressed in closer, grabbing hold of the back of Damian's head.

"Don't suffocate the kid," said Duke, looking amused and palming himself through his shorts.

"If he didn't want to suffocate, he should have picked a different fetish,'' said Tim, closing his eyes contentedly.

Damian pulled away, his hair getting mussed as it slipped from Tim's grip, and turned back to Duke, aiming for his right armpit this time, bucking up into Jason's grip and letting Jason rub himself against his backside without complaint.

Damian came with a short cry, muffled by Duke's skin, still holding tight to both Duke and Tim, his hips becoming even more pliant in allowing Jason to get off against him. Thrusting a few more times, Jason came right in his shorts, imagining being buried to the hilt in that tight ass.

Tim pulled Damian's face back to himself. "Hope you don't mind, Duke."

"By all means," said Duke, pulling out his own dick and stroking it as he watched Damian eat Tim's armpit out.

"I hope you don't mind, Timmy, but I'd like another turn too," said Jason and manhandled Damian to face him. Their eyes met and Jason got a good look at blown out pupils under heavy lids, mouth swollen and wet. Damian was pliant as a rag doll, so far from his usual self, as Jason lifted his left arm and offered up the still sticky with sweat pit Damian hadn't tasted yet.

Damian moaned as he settled into it, both hands gripping Jason's pecs tightly.

Pulling his gaze from the mop of hair under his arm, he found both Tim and Duke jerking off, eyes zeroed in on Damian's tight naked ass. Reaching down, Jason grabbed hold of Damian's left ass cheek and pulled it to the side.

"Fifty points to whoever lands closest."

Damian shuddered against him at the words and reached his own hand back to grab his other cheek and pull it wide too.

Cursing and hissing, Tim and Duke both shuffled closer, picking up the pace but keeping their strokes shallow to aim more precisely. Damian stuck his ass out further. Tim came first, dead on target, and Duke second, shooting right over where Tim's come had landed. They pressed in, shuddering and kissing Damian's back, rubbing their dicks and his fingers over his messy asshole. Damian's slack mouth breathed hot and damp against his skin.

Jason's own fingers joined theirs, thinking about whether he'd be able to get it back up and convince Damian to let him hit it properly.

"Alfred, what's the likelihood of that?"

It came echoing from the hallway up into the manor, but scrambling to pull their shorts back up and disappear into the showers, the boys never heard what Alfred replied.