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Maiden's Jewel

Summary:

One thing the Red Hood couldn’t fucking stand about Tim was the bullshit, Diamond District language he used. “Our troubled past” instead of “you slit my throat and left me to die in a basement”; “estranged packmate” instead of “fucking psycho loner”. The worst one, however, was when the scrawny Alpha shoved a fist-sized rock up Jason’s cunt and called it a “Maiden’s Jewel”.

Sick posh fucker.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Nobody presents after 19. Presenting was a teenage problem. So when Jason turned 20, unpresented, he finally snuffed out that worry nagging in the back of his brain. He was a Beta. Good. He didn’t need or want all the hormonal bullshit that came with presenting as an Alpha or -god forbid- a ‘mega. But apparently being beaten to death and spending three years in a murderous rage fucks with your hormones because Jason is 22 (twenty-FUCKING-two!) when he splits a cunt. 

 

Fuck his life.

 

His cunt splits while beating the shit out of drug traffickers in a half rotten warehouse by the docks. This was not his home turf, but Red Robin needed some backup and had asked Hood to be the distraction while he looked for some shit. As far as Hood was concerned, “distraction” meant “beat all the drug dealer fucking unconscious”. Unconsciousness was distracting. It was right as Hood knocked out his final trafficker, with Red Robin’s voice in his ear crooning about finding some Mafia ledger in the floorboards, that Hood felt something slick ooze between his thighs.

 

He noped the fuck out of there and hotwired a gangster’s motorcycle to get to one of his safe-houses. Once inside, Jason confirms that yes, a cunt had split open between his legs. Which meant he had two to three months before his first heat.  

 

Fucking perfect.

 

He was finally starting to integrate back into the Wayne pack. Ish. He hadn’t murdered anyone in almost six months at any rate. And now this pile of flaming garbage happened. Betas didn’t upset pack dynamics. But a ‘mega? No way that wasn’t gonna mess with all kinds of territorial shit. Especially an alley trash ‘mega like Jason.

 

Fuck his old pack anyway. He didn’t need them shits.

 

Fuck.

----

It was another month—a month of very distinctly not thinking about his newly split cunt—that Jason acknowledged that he had to make some kind of plan for his heat.

 

Jason reluctantly entered a sex shop and looked at the twisted plastic and silicone toys on the shelves. The colorful labels read “MEGA pleaser”, “Knot Master 1000”, and “Silicone secret for an Omega’s blooming needs”.  So he turned around and noped the fuck out of there too.

 

He sent a text to Red Robin.

 

He and Red had worked together several times over the past months, despite the fact that Jason had tried to murder him multiple times. Also, the kid was an Alpha. Skinny bastard didn’t look it- he’d need to learn to eat regularly before he would be able to build up any bulk. Hell, by Crime Ally standards he didn’t act like one neither— as far as Jason knew Red had never punched a guy for looking at his bitch wrong, or pissed on someone’s car to prove dominance. But Red was one of those Diamond-District posh Alphas that proved superiority over others with stock markets and judgmental glances. Or whatever the fuck they did over there.

 

Either way, he had a knot. And Jason was going to need a knot in about a month or so. So. Yeah. Whatever. Fuck.

 

So I split a fucking cunt. You down to heat-fuck in bout a month? If you tell B, deals off and I burn your motorcycle.  

 

Jason got a text back within an hour. It took him another two hours to open it.

 

Jason. Of course I’ll help. I will create a Maiden’s Jewel for you, any preferences? -T

 

Jason rolled his eyes.

 

Don’t need jewelry Timbo. Just bring your fucking knot.

 

Cool. Preparation all set. Time to not think about this again ever.

----

He should probably think about this again. Specifically, contraceptives.

 

It wouldn’t be long now till his heat hit. And Jason had seen enough unbonded pregnant ‘megas wind up in Crime Alley sucking knots for chump change to know how important contraceptives were. Not that Jason would ever have to suck cock—he got enough stolen mob cash stashed away in buried lockers around the city that he could retire today if he wanted to.

 

But fuck was he ever not prepared to raise a fucking kid. FFUUUUCCCCKKK no.

 

So he went to the Wayne foundation ‘mega clinic in crime allay and picked up a pamphlet. Turns out anti-baby shit is much easier in female ‘megas than male. There’s a lot less male ‘mega bitches, so medical studies are done in the woman and don’t work so well in their male counterparts. FFUUUUUNNN. FUN.

 

One pamphlet for male ‘megas basically said: “wear condoms or just don’t have sex you sluts!” Gee thanks.  Absolute eye opening advice you judgmental piece of paper shit.

 

Another pamphlet showed a skinny teen ‘mega boy, and read “Male Omegas: everything you need to know about your blooming body”. Jason was tempted to grab his flamethrower and torch the whole pile. 

 

He ended up buying a shit ton of scent blockers, condoms, and absorbent shit for ‘mega slick. Then he texted Tim.

 

If you get me pregnant I am breaking all of your fucking ribs.

 

Loud and clear -T

----

Jason shot back a glass of whiskey, and enjoyed the burn as it went down. The whiskey was absolute trash, but he wasn’t drinking it for the taste, now was he?

 

“Long week?” a man next to him- mid thirties, dark hair, Alpha, with the rough hands and dirt smudges of a construction worker- asked.

 

Jason waved the question away, “The usual. Same garbage every week.” This was the standard Crime Alley response. Too much complaining made you a bitch, while too much bragging made you a target.

 

“I hear ya brother. Got a ‘mega bitch at home who won’t quit whinin’. Grates on your last bloody nerve real quick, ya feel?”

 

Jason grunts. “Wouldn’t know.”

 

The man makes an exaggerated show of sniffing Jason- or maybe the man’s just fucking drunk. Jason holds dead still. This is the moment he’ll know whether the scent blockers work as well as advertised. The man sits back and grins lazily, “You're a Beta. You wouldn’t get it, man. ‘Megas cunts? Best shit in the world—you’d put up with a lot a shit for a cunt that tight, ya feel? I’m Trev, by the way.”

 

Trev is some real unashamed, crime alley trash. And Jason respects that. “Jay. I’ll pass on that ‘mega shit. Don’t need no pack bullshit on top of all the crap I already got in my life.”

 

Trev nods and takes another chug of his beer, “That’s why it’s best to skip that pack crap. Too complicated and risky. What if you wind up in a pack with multiple Alphas and not enough ‘Mega sluts to go around? Ya wind up with someone’s sloppy seconds. Nah, mate. Just skip the bonding, and go straight for the cunt, ya feel? It’s the best shit.”

 

“Yeah? Ya offering up yer bitch?” Jason asks with a fake drunken grin.

 

Trev’s eyes narrow and he lets out a sloppy drunken version on an Alpha growl. It makes the Red Hood’s fingers itch for a gun. Or at least a dagger.

 

“I like ya, Jay. So I’ll let that one pass. But word of advice, Beta-boy, don’ ever talk about a man’s ‘Mega like that, ya hear? I will fucking cut you.” Hood would love to see this stupid, drunk alley mutt try. Really. It’d be fucking hilarious.

 

But Jason was out as Jay- the Beta kid from the alley gutters. He wasn’t the blood soaked Red Hood tonight. He still had a gun, two tasers, and three daggers hidden about his person, but that’s just because Jay’s not fucking stupid. “My bad, Trev. I’ll buy ya a drink, yeah?” Jason said, waving the bartender down for two more beers. By the end of the night Trev had declared Jay his best friend, before puking his guts out in the bar’s back allay and passing out at the bus stop. Trev was real crime alley trash.

 

And Jason had made a friend. Fuck yeah.

----

So he was a little more shit-faced than he’d intended to be when he pried open the door to one of his safe houses and found Tim sleeping on his couch.

 

Jason threw a shoe at him.

 

“Ow!” Tim must’ve really been asleep if the shoe managed to actually hit the little ninja. “What was that for, Jason?”

 

“Da fuck you doin’ on my couch, R’placement? Couldn’t’a waited another week for my heat and just decided to go straight for the cunt?” Jason growled, slamming the door shut.

 

Tim did that silent staring thing he did when he was thinking. And in replacement’s defense, he looked genuinely confused. And tired. Maybe he was still just asleep. Jason sighed and chucked his leather jacket on the coffee table.

 

“If I was here to push an uninvited booty call, why would I sleep on the couch?”

 

“Fine. Why are you here then?” Jason grunted.

 

“I finished my shift in the area. I was planning to head home, but I was so tired my vision started swimming. So I figured I’d crash on your couch instead of the highway.” Two months ago, Jason wouldn’t have questioned it. Now, every interaction he had with anybody was colored in the lens of “is this because of ‘mega shit?” 

 

Jason rubbed his face. “Fine. Whatever, Timbo.”

 

Tim yawned and said, “I can get you better scent blockers if you like. Ones that last 72 hours, are waterproof, and better match your skin color.”

 

Jason froze. 30 seconds. 30 seconds with a bat and they’d already found clues. Fuck. He was just feeling good about his Beta disguise too. “That obvious?”

 

“I’m a detective, remember?” Red smiled lightly, “Besides, I already knew.”

 

“Would ya have noticed the scent blockers if ya didn’t already know?” Jason asked, throwing his other shoe over his shoulder somewhere near the door.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Fuckin’ shit.”

 

“To be fair, I don’t think most people would notice. But your scent blocker patch doesn’t fully match your skin color, and you didn’t add a Beta scent on top. So you smell too…” Red waved his hands a bit, “Nothing. The lack of scent is a dead give away for someone trying to cover up their secondary gender.”

 

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Now that he mentioned it, Red Robin smelled like a Beta even though Tim smelled like an Alpha. Not something Jason had ever cared enough about to really notice until now.

 

Tim lay back down on the couch, and wrapped the blanket back around him. “I’ll get you those scent blockers if you promise to never again throw stuff at me while I’m asleep.”

 

“Yeah. Fuck. Sorry. I’ve had a weird coupla weeks. But I shouldn’t’a thrown a shoe at ya. I’ll buy you a drink, yeah?”

 

“I’ll pass. But I will take the opportunity to go back to sleeping on your couch.”

 

“Yeah, aight. Night Timbo.” Jason walks into his room and shuts the door behind him. He then proceeds to collapse on his bed in a boneless heap.

 

“Hey Jason?” A sleepy Tim asks from the living room. “Did you know your accent gets stronger when you’re drunk?”

 

“Go the fuck ta sleep, ya posh shit.”

----

Tim was gone by the time Jason woke up with a killer hangover. Maybe two beers after a whiskey was not the best idea. Laying on his coffee table was a bottle of Beta scent, and a pile of scent blockers that did indeed match his skin color exactly. Bloody stalker bat. There were also about six blankets and two containers of ground coffee. Jason took the coffee as a sign that Tim was planning to come over more often. There was also a smoothie of some sort and a box of over the counter painkillers next to a note reading “For your hangover. –T

 

Jason didn’t bother with the painkillers. After the pit and the League, the standard shit stopped working for him. He took the smoothie though. Then he gave the blankets a sniff. Fuck they smelled good. He dragged them all back to bed and buried himself in their layers.

 

The white one had the familiar scent of earl grey and roses. The silken black one smelled like smog and tapioca. The blue one smelled like sugar and rain. The dark green one smelled like it belonged to a small, fuzzy creature, but also held the distinctive smell of League incense.

 

The thick, black woolen blanket smelled of Gotham. The grime of the alleys, the pine trees in the park, the pollution in the air, the spray of the ocean, and the distinctive scent of paper money that had been passed through too many hands. Gotham. It was good.

 

But the final red blanket was Jason’s favorite. It smelled like coffee and caves. Fuck, it smelled good. Jason wasn’t sure if he wanted to jerk off or bury his head in the blankets and sleep his hangover off.

 

Well shit. Why not both?

----

A week later, Jason awoke feeling warm, sticky and empty. Too empty.

 

Fuck. He buried his head in the blankets and tries to put it off for as long as he can. He waits until his body is shivering. Until the sweat is beading his forehead and the slick is oozing down his thighs. This is it, huh? No turning back now.

 

He texts Tim. Then waits.

 

And waits.

 

If replacement was fucking with him, and not about to show up, Jason would FUCK HIS SHIT UP. If this was some goddamn elaborate hoax to make Jason suffer, Jason would—

 

Fuck. Jason would understand. An image of Tim, still a pup, staring up at him with surprised eyes as Jason beats him into the bloody basement floor of Titan’s Tower. An image of Tim, still a PUP, clutching at his throat from where Jason had slit it open, blood seeping from between his fingers. Making Jason suffer through a heat alone is the least Tim could do. It’s the least Jason deserves.

 

“Hey Jason, how are you feeling?” Tim opens the bedroom door and sniffs the air “Woa, your heat has progressed further than I anticipated.”

 

“Yeah, it smells like a Crime Alley whore house. Fuck… just… knot me up before I go insane.”

 

Tim hums and spends several seconds moving around the room, putting his backpack down and observing Jason like he’s a particularly tricky case. Or maybe he’s just waiting for something.

 

Jason gets onto all fours on the bed, shoving his dripping cunt up and spreading his knees apart. “Would you hurry the fuck up?” Jason snaps, the empty all-consuming need in his cunt scratching at the back of his brain incessantly. Look at yourself, Jason thinks, less than a few hours into heat and your presenting and begging.

 

“You’re very tense”

 

“No shit. Almost like I’m a bitch in heat or something. Why did you think I texted?”

 

Tim sighs and Jason kind of wants to punch him. “Ok, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to make you feel really good. Let yourself reach your pleasure as quickly and as frequently as you like.”

 

Jason buried his head in the pile of blankets that made up his messy bed nest and just grunted. He let Tim position him on his back with his legs spread, and covered his eyes with his arm. He almost jolted up when he felt a tongue lick the tip of his cock. Tim was at the foot of the bed licking his cock. What. The. Fuck?

 

“What the fuck kind of bitch Alpha are you?” Jason blurted, and regretted the words before they even finished leaving his mouth.  

 

 “If you don’t want me, I’ll leave,” Tim growled coldly.

 

“No! No. Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m just a fucking mess right now. I- please.”

 

Tim held his eyes for several seconds before nodding and lowering himself back down. “Just relax Jason. I’ll take care of you. Let yourself feel good.”

 

Tim’s mouth felt amazing. And just… the softness of it all makes a knot in his stomach loosen. By the time Tim’s fingers came up to rub at Jason’s clit, the Omega was already half melted into the pile of blankets and moaning softly. It didn’t take much to toss him over the edge.

 

Tim kept going, moving his mouth lower to lick at his cunt this time. Time had no meaning, but that tongue did. Things started to get hazy, and delicious. Soon Jason’s toes curled and his legs twitched with his second orgasm, this time without having his cock so much as gently stroked.

 

Jason was pretty sure he was 50% person and 50% goo when he felt something smooth, cool and big at entrance to his cunt. “Hnn… Alpha?”

 

Tim shushes him gently, the thing at his cunt moving in slow circles, stretching his lips wider and wider. “You’re doing so good my precious Omega. You’re so wonderful and gorgeous. Relax for me, Princess. There we go. So good for me.”

 

His cunt lips stretched even wider to accommodate the object- painfully so. But Jason’s blood was humming with pleasure, his Alpha was whispering softly in his ear, and he was pretty sure his body was 80% goo. Jason breathed slowly, eyes closed, until the knot (maybe? Probably) slipped into his cunt and his cunt closed around the head greedily. 

 

Oh. Oooh. Oh.

 

He was so full. It was so good. A deep instinctual part of Jason cooed with pleasure at being filled. He placed a hand on his slightly bulging abdomen. “Alpha,” Jason purred happily as Tim tucked him close. Seconds later, Jason drifted into a warm darkness.

----

Things got a little hazy after that as his heat truly set in. Days passed in a horny and pleasurable blur. He sucked Tim’s cock and choked on his bulging knot like a whore. He screamed like a slut when Tim fingered his clit and pushed on the knot in his cunt. He moaned like a true Crime Alley bitch when his Alpha tied his knees together with the silk blanket and fucked his thighs, painting his stomach white with cum.

 

The worst times were when his Alpha was asleep. Jason knew his Alpha needed to sleep more, so he didn’t want to wake Tim up. But. But his blood hummed with energy and hunger. So he would try to be quiet while he buried his head in his Alpha’s chest, or nuzzle next to Tim’s cock and fingered his clit. Hnn.

 

Jason was breathing through his nose, mouth stretched open over his sleeping Alpha’s still-swollen knot and fingering his clit lazily when he felt a string coming out of his cunt. Tugging at it gently, he moaned with pleasure as it pulled on the knot inside him. There seemed to be rocks (?) or something on the string, three rocks that slapped against his thighs when he swayed his hips. Jason couldn't look between his legs as his mouth was stuck on Tim’s knot, but he could tug the string of rocks until he was coming with a grateful moan and falling into contented unconsciousness. 

 

 “Come on Princess. If you drink this smoothie I’ll tie up your legs and fuck your thighs. You like that, don’t you gorgeous?” Alpha asked. Jason did like that. He loved it. He drank the smoothie down happily as he got onto his hand and knees, humming as Tim tied his legs together. They’d tried it without his legs tied together, but Jason kept spreading his legs for his Alpha, which was--- bad? Somehow? So his legs needed to be tied so his Alpha would fuck him. It felt good. So good. His Alpha’s body slapping against his ass, the growing knot pushing between his thighs, and Alpha pulling on his cunt rocks with every slap.  Jason moaned loudly until his body was shuddering with pleasure and he was once again falling into the deep delicious darkness.

----

Jason woke for the first time in days without the overwhelming urge to suck knot and tug at his cunt rocks, so he figured his heat was officially over. He still had the very noticeable post-fuck-bliss and warm-contentedness from the days before, but his mind was clearer than it’d been in days. And he was sore. His jaw and cunt throbbed with that familiar post-workout ache, and the drying cum and slick that stuck to every part of his body was starting to itch.

 

Tim was next to him on the bed, rolled up like a burrito in a pile of blankets, face barely peaking out at the top.

 

There was a rustle from the living room and Jason froze. Shit. Apparently, he’d been woken by a noise. And some doped up alley mutt was likely trying to steal his shit or slip their knot in to a passed out ‘mega bitch.

 

Grabbing his gun from under the bed—rubber bullets, so Timborino won’t be able to bitch about it when he wakes up—Jason prepares to sneak into the living room when his bedroom door opens.

 

Nightwing stands there, one hand on the door, the other holding up a batarang, jaw falling slightly open as he looks inside. And it’s worse, somehow, than if it had been a drugged up crime alley knot head.

 

“Well fuck.” Jason says eloquently, lowering his gun, “Sup Dickathy?”

 

Dicks jaw moves a bit, eyes flying from Jason to the lump next to him on the bed and back to Jason. You didn’t have to be raised by the world’s greatest detective to figure out what had happened here. Jason has seen crime scenes with less body fluids and whorehouses that smelled less like sex.

 

“I- uh- I’ll just—go. Glad you’re, you know, alive. ” Dick manages.

 

Jason sighs, “Look, just give me a few minutes. We can- talk- or whatever the fuck.”

 

“Right. I’ll just- uh- living room. Now. Okay.” Dick shuts the door firmly behind him, and Jason lies back down for a second, rubbing his eyes. So much for post-fuck-bliss.

 

He grabs a blanket and wraps it around his waist before heading to the bathroom. He showers and scrubs off all the—everything- from his body, but hesitates a bit at his cunt. It still has a string with three rocks dangling from between its lips, and every inch of it is sore. The rocks are red and seem to reflect light at times. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to let the rocks dangle or shove them up in there, but every time he moves they shift and rub at his folds. Then there’s the big rock—the one shoved up his cunt- it’s low-key distracting. He still feels so full. He gives the rocks a tug and- yup. It’s stuck up in there. Not coming out anytime soon. Fuck, that hurt.

 

He wears loose clothes and tries to keep himself from limping as he walks to the living room. Dick is sitting in a chair by the coffee table, facing away from the bedroom and bathroom. It’s night out, but just barely; the muffled sounds of pedestrians in the street below come in through the open window. This must have been Nightwing’s first stop.

 

Jason lowers himself carefully onto the couch so as not to disturb the rocks, sitting down across from his fellow ex-robin over the coffee table. Nightwing had changed out of costume and was sitting ramrod straight in his Dick Greyson clothes, clutching his knees with white knuckles.

 

“So,” Jason begins as casually as he can, trying not to wiggle his hips as he tries to get less uncomfortable, “any particular reason you broke into my apartment or do you just like breaking and entering now?” Jason actually has several safe-houses throughout the city, not just one apartment, but he’s not sure if the bats know that and he’s not about to volunteer information.

 

Dicks clears his throat and doesn’t make eye contact, “We-uh- hadn’t heard from you for a few days. No sightings of the Red Hood either. You weren’t answering your phone. B wanted me to check to see if you were still alive.”

 

“Well congratulations. Mission accomplished. Gold star for the golden boy. Now you can go tell B all my secrets. Better not leave any details out for Mr. meticulous clue-master. Out of curiosity, what adjectives are you planning to use in your report? Debauched? Cum-stained? Oder de Whorehouse? Got a lot of options, don’t cha?”

 

“Jesus, Jason. Can we not. Not EVER, talk about what just happened? Lets just burn it out of our respective memories, shall we?” Dick buries his face in his hands, “God damn. I’m not going to tell B that part. Just ‘yeah he’s alive, all good.’”

 

“Tell him I said I don’t work for him no more and he needs to back the fuck off.”

 

Dick lets out a chuckle. “Sure. I’ll do that. Congratulations, by the way. Don’t know how long you’ve been keeping this a secret but literally no one even suspected you had- um- bloomed?”

 

“Get the fuck out and never use garbage flower metaphors again Dickerini.”

 

“Blossomed into your true self. Revealed your inner rose. The petals of spring opening—”

 

Jason can’t help the grin on his face as he chucks a pillow at the little shit, “Fuck off Dick-head. I split a cunt.”

 

“I’ll just stick with ‘presented as an Omega’, shall I?”

 

Jason snorts and lets the silence sit for a few seconds. “It happened two months ago.”

 

“Two months ago? Seriously? At twenty-two?”

 

“I know, right? What the actual fuck biology? You literal cunt.”

 

“You think I may be next? If you can present at 22, why not 24? Might be because of all the toxins we’re exposed to as Robins.”

 

“Nah, I think my body got fucked up by the whole being dead thing and the pit rage, so my shit was just put on hold for like- seven years.”

 

“Coolio.”

 

“Yuuuuuup.” Jason popped the ‘p’ to emphasize his sarcasm.

 

It was then that the bedroom door squeaked opened and Tim- wearing only boxers- stumbled out of the room. Dick tensed up ramrod straight, still facing away from the door.

 

“Coffeeeeeee---” Tim groaned, grabbing the pot of cold coffee off the counter.

 

“Oh thank god.” Dick slumped like a marionette with his strings cut.

 

“Seriously?” Jason growled.

 

Dick grinned sheepishly, “I mean. I know I don’t have a real say in this, and I was trying real hard not to have an opinion, but thank god it’s pack. Shit. Can you imaging how B would have reacted if he found out some random mutt had knotted you?”

 

“Don’t need Bruce’s permission to do shit, Dickhead.”

 

“Theoretically yes. But less theoretically, I’m glad you trust at least someone from the pack, little wing.”

 

“I’m not pack, Goldie.”

 

“You may not think so, but we do.”

 

Jason wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He had tried to murder Tim, multiple times. He’d murdered so many people- and doesn’t regret it. Well, not all of it. That’s not pack. Not Wayne pack and definitely not Bat pack.

 

Tim grumbles something unintelligible and sits next to Jason, across from Dick, slurping his coffee.

 

“Good morning, baby bird,” Dick said with a smile.

 

“Hmm? Wha? Dick? How long have you been here?” Tim said, staring at Dick with utter confusion. World’s second greatest detective everybody.

 

“Literally the whole time you’ve been awake. So, ‘Important Titans Business’, huh?”

 

“Yup. Just got back,” Tim lies casually while being mostly naked and covered in cum, smelling like a fucked out Alpha.

 

Jason snorts as Dick pretends to nod in understanding. “Dickie knows, Timborini. Bedroom wasn’t exactly subtle.”

 

“Ah, well.”

 

Dick glances between the two of them, then says, “Just please tell me you used a condom. I mean, I can run to the store and get post-heat pills, but they’re not nearly as effective.”

 

“Nah, Timmy just shoved a rock up my cunt.”

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

Tim sighed, glancing at his coffee cup longingly, “It’s called a Maiden’s Jewel.”

 

“It’s a Cunt Rock.”

 

“It’s also known as a Princess’s Pearl, if you would prefer that.”

 

“Fuck no. It’s a Cunt Rock. Stop using your fancy Diamond District bullshit words, ya posh fuck.”

 

“Can we back up a step, guys, please? What is—that. Whatever you want to call it.” Dick asks.

 

“I fucking knew it wasn’t a real thing, Timbo. If you just have a kink for shoving rocks up people’s cunts, you should have just fucking said so.”

 

“A Maiden’s Jewel,” Tim growls, ignoring Jason completely, “Is a traditional gift among nobles for an Omega’s first heat, or upon their marriage into a new pack. It’s not ‘a rock’, by the way. The one I gave you is made of glass-coated rubies, they’re genuine jewels. My mother had one during her engagement. Matha Wayne did too. This is not something I just made up. It is, perhaps, a bit old fashioned- but it is effective as birth control.”

 

“No shit, can’t get a knot up in there if there’s a literal rock in the way.”

 

“The cord is made of copper. A secondary preventative measure.”

 

“Ok,” Dick says, raising his hands, “I’m just going to pretend you just said you used protection and not ask anymore questions. I should also, uh, go back to work, and let B know you’re alive.”

 

Dick flips over the back of his chair and heads to the closet, where he apparently stored him uniform. Why was everyone keeping their shit in Jason’s safe-houses? Within a minute, Nightwing is back in costume and heading out the window. “It was good to talk to you again, little wing,” he smiles before leaping out into the night.

 

“Ok,” Jason says, “time for you to go Timbo.”

 

“What?” Tim asks, staring straight at Jason.

 

“Yup. Heat over. I owe you one. Now fuck off.”

 

Tim stared at him in that calculating way of his. Jason stared right back. “Alright. I’ll get my stuff. I’ll see you on patrol.”

 

Jason stays sitting as Tim showers, dresses and leaves. Then he limps back to bed, buries his head in the absolutely filthy blankets and tries to sleep for a week.  Heat was… a lot. So much more than he was expecting. He still feels so sore and so full. Jason just needs to not have to think about anything for a while.

----

Nightwing knocked on his window the next night, grinning and holding up a six-pack of cheap beer. The Red Hood had just gotten back from patrol and was planning to head to bed, but he could do with a beer.

 

Hood pulled the window open and Nightwing swing in, doing a completely unnecessary flip just to show off. “You seen the game yet? Gotham knights vs. Metropolis Meteors? I was on patrol when it aired, but I’ve managed to avoid spoilers.”

 

Jason pulled his helmet off, grinning. “The Knights are going to beat the Meteors’ asses.”

 

Three beers and an hour of watching Gotham’s hockey team get their ass beat later, Jason was feeling pretty good. They were sprawled on his shitty couch, drinking and eating snacks, still mostly in costume. The sun was starting to rise, but normal work hours weren’t really a thing for vigilantes. Bruce and Tim would disapprove of their lax attitude while in costume, but Jason didn’t give a shit. The curtains were closed, it was fine.

 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Nightwing sat up, pulling out a small box from one of his pouches and tossing it at Jason, “I got you this.”

 

“You proposing Goldie? Because I got to say, 3/10 stars. You could do better than that. At least get on your knees.”

 

“Hilarious. No they’re earrings. Thought you might like them.”

 

Opening the box, Jason indeed found two studs with tiny rubies on the top. “Rubies?”

 

Nightwing blushed a bit, “Well, Tim mentioned he’d gotten you rubies, so I though I would stick with the theme. I know they’re small, but I’m not a multi-millionaire like our Timmy is, so um… yeah. Earrings. You like em?”

 

Jason did. Studs were dope. But that wasn’t really the main issue. “Why are you buying me shit Goldie?”

 

Nightwing rubs his neck, “Damn it Jay. I’m not really good at the whole pack dynamics thing. But even I know you’re supposed to give the pack Omega a gift to show you accept them. So, you know, I got you a gift. If you don’t like it I can get you something else. But I have like three dollars left on my bank account so you might have to wait a bit.”

 

“ ‘Mega bullshit aside, how are you so poor when your pack Alpha’s a multi-billionaire? Seriously.”

 

Nightwing crosses his arms, “I’m an adult. I am not taking B’s money. And yeah, ok. Ex-cop who works part time at a grocery store doesn’t bring in the big bucks, but I get by.”

 

“You lost your cop job? Shit Goldie, what’d you do?”

 

Dick shrugs, “Turns out the police force wasn’t really for me. Besides, I wanted to move back to Gotham, you know?” Jason levels him a look. “And also they fired me for showing up to work late and exhausted too many times.”

 

“That sucks man,” Jason commiserates.

 

Nightwing sighs, “Yeah. It sucks. Now the entirety of my estate consists of two half-eaten boxes of cereal. Part time grocery store work does not bring in the big bucks, turns out.”

 

“I am shocked, Goldie. Truly astounded.” 

 

Dick snorts, then lets the silence sit for a few seconds. “You don’t like the studs?”

 

Jason scratches his head and looks at them again, “No. They’re fine. I just—god, sometimes I hate this ‘mega shit, you know? There’s all these rules for pack stuff, and some of them feel right and some just feel weird. And I don’t know most of ‘em. My parents were Beta’s, man. I never learned this shit.”

 

Dick grins, “I know, right? I had to google some of this stuff. We were pack before you died, but it was just B as an alpha, and three Betas who didn’t give a shit about dynamics. No Alpha hierarchy, no Omega gift-giving. I think the only pack-like thing I ever did as Robin was letting B bite me. Now we have two Alphas, an Omega, two Betas, I have no idea what black bat is -if she’s presented she’s covering it up real good- and Baby Bat still has his pup scent but he’s already trying to enter the Alpha hierarchy. And it’s just so—so Pack-Pack. You know?”

 

Jason grunts in acknowledgement, “Shit was easier when it was just the four of us.”

 

Dick sighs, “Yeah. Not that I don’t love the bigger pack, it’s just more complicated.”

 

“I’m not actually pack though, Dick” Jason says, closing the box and trying to hand it back.

 

Dick stares at him but doesn’t take the box, “That’s why I got you the earrings, little wing. It’s what you’re supposed to do when an Omega presents: gift giving. So, well, this is me saying I see you as pack Omega. Yeah?”

 

Jason pulls the box back and opens it. Staring at the tiny ruby studs, he can’t help think about the Rubies in his pussy. Tim gave those to him. Tim also gives him blankets, and scent blockers, and food. He wonders if those have similar meanings. He wonders if he was supposed to have known that from the beginning.

 

“I’ll think about it,” Jason finally says, “Lets just finish watching the game, yeah?”

 

“Alright,” Dick says, with sad puppy eyes that Jason ignores.

 

The Gotham Knights get their asses handed to them. No one is really surprised. 

----

Red Hood’s back out the next night. ‘Cause Gotham criminals are dumb fucks and some of them seem to have already forgotten about Jason’s rules in just three days. He cracks a guy’s fingers after he touches one of Jason’s working girls without paying. He stops a girl with a knife who was staring at a pizza shop a little too intently and buys her chilidogs, giving her instructions to a homeless shelter for kids that Jason actually trusts. Then he finds one of Falcone’s men sniffing around.

 

Not in his territory.

 

Hood grabs the gangly gangster and slams him into the wall of an alley. “You have ten seconds to convince me not to break your teeth.”

 

“Fuck—look Mr. Hood, sir. I was just passin’ through. I wasn’t doin’ nothing.”

 

Ignoring him, Hood pulled open the goon's blazer and rummages around until he pulled out a crisp white letter.

 

“Now hold on there, Mr. Hood, you can’t just go robbin’ an innocent man of—”

 

“Piss the fuck off, and don’t let me catch you on my terf again, you gangly fuck.”

 

“Yessir”

 

The letter was nice enough to tell Hood what Falcone was planning, and that he was going to have a meeting with his goons in two days time. It forgot to mention the exact location, only mentioning “the usual place.” Damn. That means Jay’s going to have to ask Red Robin for any leads.

---- 

Jason enters the bar again, and is not particularly surprised to find Trev. The man’s already half drunk. He was loudly telling a story to a group of other men—a mix of alphas and betas, by the look of it. Their tan patterns, the dirt on their knees, and the calluses on their hands indicated that they were all construction workers- colleagues, likely.

 

Trev waves him over before continuing his story, “- and she just won’t stop buggin’ me, yeah? ‘Like where you been? Who ya talking to? Why you smell like lilies?’ So here’s what I do- see? After payin’ a good bitch on Red Light Street, ya go back to work to shower then buy some food. Seriously, don’t need to be expensive shit, just like bread and jelly or some shit. She doesn’t even ask where I been. Bitches love food.”

 

The men laugh, and Jason pretends to smirk at the dumb story.

 

“Who’re youse, big feller? New to the Alley?” One of the men asks Jason.

 

“Jay, and no. Alley brat born and bred. I work at the docks.” Beating up gangsters and blowing up drug stashes.

 

Jason’s accepted into their group without much trouble, especially after he buys them a beer each. Jason nurses his own beer as he might be going out later tonight. He beats a shmuck at arm wrestling. He finds out that the men do indeed work at the same construction group. It was turning out to be a good, rowdy night when Trev slaps Jay’s shoulders lightly and motions for the group to look at the doors.

 

“Look at who just walked in. If that aint some Diamond District fucker I’ll eat my hat. What’s a posh shit like that doin’ in a dig like this?”

 

Jason knows who it is before he turns, but turns to look anyway. Tim. Of course. That stupid posh fuck wore a SUIT to CRIME ALLEY. Does he want to be robbed? Tim approaches them as if it’s perfectly normal to wear formal wear to a shit bar and Jason is dreading what he’s about to say.

 

“Ah, Jason, there you are,” Tim says as he approaches. The building crew breaks out in laughs and whoops.

 

“Jay, you didn’t tell us you were fuckin’ a pretty rich boy!” Trev laughs.

 

“Lookin’ for a good time with some downtown studs, rich boy?”

 

“Bet you’re Daddy doesn’t know you’re here, does he pretty boy?”

 

“Whooooo!!!!”

 

Tim ignores them and hands Jason a business card, “I know we’ve had a bit of an unpredictable relationship in the past—” Jason grunts because “unpredictable relationship” is such a Diamond District term for ‘multiple events of attempted murder’.

 

“OOOOOOOOHHHHH!!!” Trev calls behind them.

 

“But I would like to offer you your job as my bodyguard back. You do good work, and I have an event coming up that will require your services.”  

 

“Hey pretty boy, you need anymore ‘bodyguards’ to give you some good ‘servicing’? An actual Alpha one, maybe?” Trev grins, thrusting his hips back and forth to emphasize his point.

 

Tim smoothly pulls his scent patch off his neck, letting his Alpha musk float through the air as lets his eyes coolly drift over Trev’s shorter, muddy form. He lets out a single, unimpressed “hm.”

 

“Ha. Trev you just tried to fuck an Alpha.” Urin laughs drunkenly.

 

 Trev’s hands clench, and Jay can hear his teeth click before he turns abruptly and walks out the bar. He stumbles a bit as he goes.  Some of the building crew tries to call him back but no one makes too much of an effort. Jay lets him go cool his head.

 

Jay looks at the card in his hand, coordinates. Likely the coordinates for Falcone’s meeting tomorrow. Jay sighs, “I’ll think about it, Mr. Drake. In the meantime, why don’t I walk you to your car before you get yourself mugged.”

 

“Shit,” Wei says, staring at Tim a little harder, “Mr. Drake-Wayne? The billionaire CEO? No fuckin’ shit.”

 

Once outside the bar, Jason pulls Tim aside to hiss, “What are you actually doing here, Tim? You could have left this on my kitchen counter, you break in often enough.”

 

“I live in the area.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yes, I bought and renovated the old theater here in Crime Alley. I’ve seen you drunkenly wander home several times now and wanted to see what the appeal of the bar was. And… I may have wanted to see if there was any competition.”

 

“Competition? Fuck off. We’re not…” Jason hesitated. What where Tim and Jason? Whatever. “…and even if we were, Trev’s not competition. Fuck off. He thinks I’m a Beta.” 

 

“He may not consciously be aware of your designation, but he is awful familiar with you.”

 

“You’re imagining shit baby bird. Also, who the fuck wears a suit to a bar in crime alley? Seriously, do you want to have your ass beat?”

 

“It’s a good thing I have my bodyguard with me then, isn’t it?” Tim smirks.

 

Jason grunts out a laugh then stops as he looks across the road. Trev is there, pissing on a motorcycle. A familiar red motorcycle.

 

Tim and Jason walk up behind Trev. Tim clears his throat and Trev turns with a sit-eating grin. He doesn’t stop pissing on the motorcycles seat though, the little fuck.

 

“Oh, sorry mate. Was this your motorcycle? My baaaaaad.” Trev slurs with a smirk that conveys his absolute lack of sincerity. Jason was simultaneously impressed at the audacity and itching to punch him. Tim, an actual Alpha, was probably going to punch the guy.

 

Tim, completely blank faced, pulled out his phone and took a picture. “I look forward to working with you again Jason,” Tim said coolly as he turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

 

After Tim had left, Trev guffawed a laugh and zipped back up, “That’s what I thought. Diamond District Alpha-lets like that got no real bite to them, ya know? Common Jay, I gotta go tell the boys I pissed on that fuckers fancy wheels.”

 

Jason tucked Tim’s info into his jacket and stepped away as Trev tried to clap him on the shoulder with his potentially piss-covered hands. “I’ll see you Wednesday Trev.” And Jason headed home feeling… oddly disappointed.

----

“Now you see, I’m going to let you live, Falcone” the Red Hood growled. The mob boss under his boot started talking back about how he was so glad they could come to an arrangement, and that his men would be out of crime alley by midnight, but Jason increased the pressure on his throat to shut him up before continuing, “But just to be sure you won’t accidentally forget this deal, Falcone, I’m going to make sure the words are pressed into your brain. And every time one of your men enter Crime Alley, I’ll come back for a little reminder. We clear?”

 

“Now Mr. Hood, I am a man of my word. I don’t forget deals, especially not with esteemed men such as yourself. I—” Falconi’s words cut off with a scream as the Red Hood smashed the mob boss’s head into his fancy desk repeatedly. His nose crunched. Jason threw the man to the floor once he started spitting blood. The Red Hood was feared throughout Gotham’s underworld for a reason.

 

Two goons burst through the doors holding machine guns. “Boss!” “You die now, Hood!”

 

Jason pulls out his gun and prepares to fire when both men drop to the ground, unmoving. Well. Ok, then. Black bat slinks out of the shadows and stays completely still, making Jason grin. Fuck yeah, he loves that gal.

 

He kicks Falcone again for good measure before stalking out of the mob boss’s underground office, flipping the bloodied man the bird as he leaves.

 

On the rooftop, two minutes later, Jason removes his helmet. He still had his red domino on, so it was fine. Black bat appeared behind him with a grin and a twirl that looked distinctly like a ballet move. BB didn’t smell like Alpha, Omega, or Beta. She had what Tim would call a ‘distinctive lack of scent’. But honestly, that could mean anything with a league-trained ninja like Cass.  Beta? Alpha? Omega? Has internal organs sacrificed to evil ninja god? Who the fuck knows. Not Jason.

 

“Thanks for the assist, BB. I owe you one.”

 

“No. Pack help each other.”

 

“Not really pack anymore BB.”

 

Black bat frowned, tilting her head. “You have killed.”

 

“Yeah, and the old man has a pretty strict no-murder policy.”

 

“I have also killed,” Black bat holds up her hands, “Was little girl. Ripped out throat. Blood on hands. Lots of blood. Screaming.”

 

Well that was new information. What the fuck Bruce, where do you even find all these bloody orphans?

 

“Batman says I am still good. Batman says I am still a person. I am still pack.”

 

Jason holds himself very still. Fuckin shit. Why’d BB get complete love and acceptance while Jason was too fucked up to accept? Was it because he murdered way more people? Was it because he was older when he blasted their heads off? Was it because he didn’t regret killing some of the darker monsters that absolutely deserved to die? Probably.

 

“Hood good too. Hood pack too.”

 

Jason swallowed a lump in his throat, subconsciously rubbing his abdomen over where Tim’s Jewel was placed.

 

Black Bat frowned for a second, observing him. Then her face broke out into a big smile, “Baby!” she gasped.

 

“Nope!” Jason immediately shut that thought down, “Rock.”

 

Cass walked forward cautiously, reaching toward his abdomen but hesitating before touching.

 

“Yeah, go ahead,” Jason sighed, internally trying to count how many minutes it had taken for BB to figure out he was an Omega. Five? Sometimes Jason hated that the bats were all detectives.

 

Cass placed her hands on his abdomen, patting it. Then poked it, and then pressed down real hard. Jason gasped and had to clench his cunt to prevent one of the smaller jewels from slipping out between his lips.

 

“Rock,” Cass agrees a bit sadly, “Who?”

 

“Red Robin.”

 

Cass pats his abdomen one last time before leaping backwards with the grace of a dancer, landing on the head of a gargoyle. The city lights sparkled behind her as she grinned wide, “Pack gift. Good.” Then she leaped into the night, blending into the shadows within seconds. Sneaky shadow ninja.

 

Jason really shouldn’t be surprised when he kicks open his bedroom door, hours later, and finds a red silk sash with a ruby encrusted buckle lying in the middle of his nest.

 

Cass’s gift.  

----

Falcone was up to something. The Red Hood narrowed his eyes Falcone’s men at the docks. It wasn’t technically in Crime Alley, but it was less than a stone’s throw away from Jason’s territory. This just screamed trap. Or stupidity. But probably trap.

 

Three of Falcone’s men were smuggling something into the warehouse. One of the goon entered the warehouse. The other two kept looking around, as if they’d been told to keep an eye out for nightly visitors. Which they probably had. The Falcones hadn’t gotten any drug shipments recently though, which means they weren’t smuggling drugs. Guns maybe? Why be so obvious and so clearly near Red Hood’s territory though? These men weren’t even trying to be sneaky.

 

Jason huffed and turned around. As much as he’s like to shoot first and ask questions later, this was obviously a trap. He wasn’t about to do something stupid for three low tier goons.

 

Then something caught his eye. A figure sneaking into the warehouse via the rooftops. Too small to be an adult; wearing green, yellow and red. Robin.

 

“Oracle, why is Robin going into warehouse 7 alone? I’m pretty sure that place is a Falcone trap. Who’s with him? Batman?” Jason asked, tapping his comm. If Batman was with him, they definitely had a plan.

 

“One second,” Oracle responded. Then, “Red Hood, Robin was not scheduled to be out tonight. I am sending Batman to your location. Hold your position.”

 

“I’m going in.”

 

“Wait, Red Hood, if this is a trap—”

 

Jason turned his comm off. If this was a trap Robin needed backup now. Jason wasn’t letting another Robin die, not on his watch. The Red Hood descended on the two goons standing out front, punching one out cold before he even knew someone was coming. The other good raised his gun, but the Red Hood shot the thing out of the goon’s hand before kicking him in the face. Goon 2 dropped like a stone.

 

He pulled the doors of the warehouse open. It was full of crates, but Jason knew there was at least one goon in here, and one Robin. “Alright shithead, I’m here. What does Falcone want from me?” Subtlety is overrated.

 

No answer. Red Hood narrowed his eyes and climbed a tower of crates, looking out over the warehouse. The doors slammed closed behind him. Jason turned, he could hear the rattling of chains and the footsteps of several people outside. OK, they wanted to lock him in here—Explosions?

 

He looked around at the corners and the pillars holding the warehouse up. It was dark but… there! Explosions. And if the flashing red light meant anything, they were already active.

 

Fuck.

 

OK.

 

How did Goon #3 exit the warehouse? He’d walked in earlier, he hadn’t come out the front, nor did he leave through window Robin had snuck in through.

 

There, on the floor- a trap door. Likely to some kind of cellar or exit route. Red Hood Grappled over and ripped the trap door open. No locks. Dark, but concrete and safer than up here in the warehouse that was about to collapse.

 

“ROBIN! I know you’re in here. The place is about to blow, so either swing out the window you crawled in from or get down here right this goddamn second!” Red Hood called into the rafters.

 

There was a rattle and the Red Hood turned to see Robin tugging at the window- now sealed from the outside.

 

The explosives continued to flash with red light. “IN! NOW!”

 

Jason will give the littlest Robin this- kid had skill. Within three seconds the kid had grappled into the center of the room and dropped down into the basement. Jason jumped after him and slammed the trap door shut behind him.

 

“Tt. What the hell was that about Todd?” Robin hissed, “Did my Father tell you to contain me? Because if so I guarantee that I am not so easy to subdue as you believe. I am no mere child.”

 

Jason ignored him, pulling Robin further into the cellar and away from the trap door. He used the night-vision on his helmet to look around the room. There were some crates down here, probably extra-secret contraband. There was also a door at one end, likely the escape route Goon #3 had used to exit the warehouse. He tried the door. It was locked, but it had some give. He could probably—

 

There was a near deafening explosion and Jason turned and threw his body over Robin’s smaller frame. He stayed above the boy as the walls shook and dust rained down. The trap door at the far end of the cellar collapsed and a metal beam of some sort crashed through it, but the rest of the cellar held.

 

Jason huffed a deep breath. Not the worst warehouse explosion he’s been in.

 

He didn’t want to think about that.

 

Fuck.

 

Jason pulled away from the brat below him. “How you holding up kid? Any injuries?”

 

Damian was looking up at him with large eyes. “Todd, you—” Attempted murder and warehouse explosions must be hard for this kid to process.

 

“You are an Omega?”

 

“Oh for Fuck Sake!” Jason groused, sitting back, “How the fuck did YOU figure it out?”

 

“I was raised by the league of assassins, I know how to identify the scent of synthetic beta scent. Additionally…” Damian looked mildly embarrassed, “I think your chest is leaking.”

 

“What the garbage?” Jason growled and looked down. His uniform was wet. Had he been hit by shrapnel? He hadn’t felt anything, but you never knew with adrenalin. Jason looked around. The warehouse above them had collapsed, the trap door impassable, and the only other door locked. They had some time for injury assessment.

 

A few clasps later and Jason removed his breastplate, letting it fall to the cellar floor as he examined himself for injuries. There weren’t any, but his chest was wet and weirdly sensitive.

 

Jason took his helmet off and set the flashlight option on. The small cellar flooded with light and Jason could see the liquid on his chest wasn’t red. He sniffed it, then licked it. “Milk?” Jason asked, confused as fuck- why would he be covered in—

 

Oh.

 

Oh Fuck.

 

Kid. In distress. Near Jason. Kid that was kinda maybe sorta pack.

 

He squeezed his own tit to confirm and a jet of milk shot out. “Well, fuck.”

 

Damian was sitting across from him, entranced. “You made milk for me. No one has ever produced milk for me.”

 

Jason frowned, “No one? Seriously? What about your mother?”

 

Damian shook his head, “Mother was an Alpha, incapable of such forms of affection. She grew me in a vat.”

 

“Well shit. Sorry.” Jason’s own Omega mother (or, technically step mother?) had fed him for years. He remembered happy puppy days at her breast, the feeling of warm milk and contentment in his tummy. “Do you—want some?”

 

Damian looked up at Jason with such a shocked look of awe, “You honor me with you offer, Jawhara.”  Jewel.  Damian reached out hesitantly to touch one of Jason’s slightly swollen tits. A slight squeeze had Jason flinching as a jet of milk came out. “Shit. My tits are as sensitive as--.” ‘As sensitive as his thighs after Tim’s fucked them raw’ is probably not an acceptable thing to say in front of a pup.  Luckily Damian doesn’t seem to notice as he surges forward and clamps his mouth around one of Jason’s nipples. He sucks hard and Jason muffles a scream. “Ugh. Fuck. Ah.” It was painful, but something in his mind was glowing with pride.  He was feeding his puppy. He kept his puppy safe, and now he’s feeding his puppy. Jason brought a hand up to run through his puppy’s hair. Damian came up for a breath and Jason could see his pupils were blown wide. A second later Damian was clamped back onto Jason’s tit. Jason couldn’t help the moan this time.  Jason let himself lie back onto the floor with his puppy in his arms as his body flooded with happy fuzzy emotions even as his tits stung.  “Red Hood. Come in Red Hood. What is your situation?”  Was that his alpha’s voice? It was. Jason purred. Look alpha, he’s taking care of the pup. Happy pup. Hmm… Why did his alpha look like a red flashlight?  “Red Hood. Please come in. Hood please.”  Oh right. His helmet. The collapsed warehouse. Red Robin. Batman.

 

Jason reluctantly put his helmet back on, keeping his hands in his pup’s hair. Good puppy. Hungry puppy.

 

“Red Hood here. Robin and I are alive. We’re in a cellar—hn – below the warehouse. Likely a secret route Falcone’s men used to smuggle things through.”

 

“Hood,” Tim’s voice was audibly relieved, “Are there any injuries? What are the oxygen levels? How stable are the walls? What’s the situation?”

 

Hungry puppy situation. Purr…

 

“What?”

 

Jason blinked. Had he said that out loud? Focus Jason, focus.

 

“No injuries. Walls are stable. Oxygen is—”he read the numbers on his screen, “19%, acceptable. There is a second exit here. A door, but it’s locked.”

 

“Don’t try to explode it Hood. Batman and I will be able to open it from the other side.”

 

“Oooookkkkaayyy. Byyyyeeee” Jason hummed, then took off the helmet so he could kiss his puppy's fuzzy head. The helmet kept talking. Jason ignored it.

 

It might have been minutes or hours later before Damian grew full. Having drunk both tits dry, there wasn’t much more for him to eat. Jason’s tits hurt like they’d been stung by bees from hell, but the rest of his body was having such a pleasant happiness high that Jason honestly didn’t really care.

 

He put his armor back on, but kept his helmet off as he pulled Damian close. His puppy had drunk his fill and looked up at Jason with such happy sleepiness that Jason couldn’t help cuddle him.

 

“Thank you, Jawhara.” His puppy hummed.

 

“Of course puppy. My precious puppy.”

 

By the time the doors burst open and Red Robin and Batman rushed in, Damian was asleep. Jason handed the pup over easily enough to the pack alpha. Then he left as soon as he could. Brushing off Tim’s questions and grappling back home. His body was all floaty. His mind was all fuzzy. He needed to sleep.

----

Jason woke sometime around noon. He crawled out of bed sometime around 2pm to make some food and was entirely unsurprised to find a card and a small box on his kitchen counter. In the box are two rings with nail-sized rubies on the ring loops.

 

Dearest Jason Todd, Omega of the Wayne pack and Jewel of the Bat clan,

 

I present to you these ruby nipple rings so you may remember my presence even when I am absent. By doing so, I formally acknowledge you as pack Omega. You have been trained by the league of shadows, overcame the effects of the pit, and have a truly powerful and nurturing body. Your beauty and accomplishments make you uniquely qualified to bear the heir to both the al Ghoul kingdom and Batman’s legacy.

 

While I am currently still unpresented, I know I will soon present as Alpha. Worry not, for when I present, I shall challenge Drake for his tenuous position as your “mate”. While Drake is incompetent in many ways and completely unworthy of you, he has done us both the boon of keeping you pure during the time I am not yet of age to claim you. A ruby Maiden’s Jewel does suit you, my gorgeous future mate.

 

I await the day of our union Jawhara,

Sincerely,

Damian al Ghul-Wayne

The true hair to Ra’s al Ghul and Batman

(unlike Drake who is not worthy at all!)

 

Tim did not find the letter nearly as funny as Jason did.

----

The evening after Dami and Jason got out of the warehouse, Jason was carrying a bag of groceries home when Trev runs up to him. Trev is more of a mess than usual, which is saying something. “Jay! Jay-man. My man. Just who I was looking for.”

 

Jason stops. He knows that tone. “What d'ya want, Trev?”

 

Trev twitches a little, looking around at the empty road before turning back to Jay. “Look man. Can you call your employer? And just, let him know it was just a joke, you know? Just a little joke between friends, it didn’t mean nothin’, I swear.”

 

Jason raised an eyebrow, “Da fuck, Trev?”

 

Trev ran a hand through his hair, “Look. Fuck. I was drunk, ok? So I pissed on his motorcycle. But like- fuck Jay. Come on, that’s just a dumb thing people do sometimes, yeah? Just some harmless drunk shit, you know?”

 

“But he has this evidence, a photo of me, and a DNA sample because apparently piss has DNA in it? And- fuck Jay. The police say that he’s going to press charges and that they’re going to run the DNA sample as part of the evidence. Fuck Jay. I may have done some shit when I was younger, and if they run my DNA, it’s gonna flag some old cases. Maybe. Fuck I don’t rightly know. But maybe.”

 

“And if I get any more strikes on my record my boss is gonna fire me. I can’t loose this job Jay, I don’t got any other skills, ya feel? If I loose this job, I’m gonna loose my apartment. I may even go to jail for a while. I won’t do good in jail Jay.”

 

“And shit- shit Jay. My ‘Mega Marrin. You know Marrin? She found out I was sleepin’ with some of the girls down in Mike’s bar, you know? She fuckin’ left me man. Fuck. She fuckin’ left man!”

 

“Everything is a fuckin mess Jay. Fuck. Can you just- call your boss? The Diamond District Alpha? And just- just let him know I didn’t mean nothin’. It was just some dumb drunk shit. I can pay for the cleaning of the motorcycle, yeah? So he don’t press charges?”

 

Jason closed his eyes for a second. Tim. Of course.

 

Tim was a Diamond District Alpha, the type of beast that didn’t do pissing contests (literally, in this case), but used quieter means to ABSOLUTELY FUCK UP someone’s shit. Additionally, Tim was a vindictive genius.

 

Jason set the bag of groceries down and pulled out his cell.

 

“Tim, what the fuck?”

 

“Hello Jason, how may I help you?”

 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m impressed. But seriously, what the fuck?”

 

“I’m assuming this is about the charges I am pursuing against Mr. Trevor Jefferson? Is he with you?”

 

Jason glanced over at Trev, who was pale as a sheet. Jason handed him the phone with a shrug.

 

“Hey buddy, I just wanted –”

 

“It’s Mr. Drake-Wayne to you, Mr. Jefferson.” Tim’s voice doesn’t hold any humor.

 

“M-Mr. Drake W-Wayne. I-I just. I’m sure we can come to some agreement without getting the coppers involved. How-how about I pay for the cleaning of your motorcycle, eh? Water under the bridge?”

 

“Hmm…” Tim hummed noncommittally and let the silence sit for several seconds, letting his victim sweat. “I may be persuaded to let the charges drop.”

 

“Thank you- Thank you Mr. Drake-Wayne, I knew we could—”

 

“IF you clean the motorcycle yourself…”

 

“Of course Mr. Drake-Wayne.”

 

“… with your tongue.”

 

Jason froze for a second, because- damn. What the fuck Tim? Trev had frozen as well, eyes wide, staring at Jason. Jason just shrugged.

 

“Do we have a deal, Mr. Jefferson?”

 

Trev swallowed loudly, his fist clenched, his mouth opening and closing several times before answering, “We have a deal.”

 

“Wonderful. I will meet you by my motorcycle in ten minutes.” Click.

 

Jason was not going to miss this petty shit. Which is why he and Trev were standing in front of Tim’s motorcycle- remarkably unstolen- when Tim arrived. He was walking down the street wearing a full professional suit, because of course he was.

 

Tim was wearing his business face. Trev on the other hand, was beginning to smell like sweat and fear. He was a mess. Jason nodded as Tim approached.

 

Tim looked Trev over again, before motioning toward his bike with a nod. “Go on.”

 

Trev clenched and unclenched his hands, glancing at Jason with desperate eyes. Jason raised an eyebrow. Trev got himself into this dumb shit himself, Jason wasn’t stepping into this Alpha bullshit.

 

Trev looked away and walked toward the motorcycle, then slowly lowered himself to his knees. After a second of hesitation, he leaned forward and licked the motorcycle. Then again. And again. Tim stood behind him silently, watching.

 

Jason shook his head. Alphas, man. He was glad he was a Beta—or. Well. Beta-ish. Omega. Whatever.

 

Jason waited a full minute before walking up to Tim, “Tim, that’s enough.”

 

Tim looked over at Jason, and at the desperate man still licking the motorcycle at his feet. “Alright Mr. Jefferson. That will be sufficient. I will be dropping the charges. Just be a little more careful about your actions while you’re drunk next time you go out with my bodyguard, would you?”

 

Trev got to his feet, wiped his mouth, and nodded without making eye contact. He scuttled off without a word.

 

Jason watched him go, then turned to Tim. “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”

 

Tim grinned back at him, “He had it coming.”

 

Jason huffed a laugh, “He’s real crime alley trash, all right. Were you the one who told his girlfriend about the cheatin’?”

 

 “Of course. I can’t abide infidelity,” Tim said tapping a button on his phone. His motorcycle roared to life and drove off down the street without a rider. Cool. “See you around?”

 

Jason hesitated then held up his bag of groceries, “Dinner?”

 

“My place?” Tim asked. Jason shrugged but nodded.

 

Tim did indeed live in Crime Alley now. The old theater had been renovated into several apartments, all of which Tim owned under various pseudo-names. The top floor looked out over the alley, and had the rest of Gotham in the background. Tim undoubtedly also had a secret bat-basement.

 

Jason made Korean stir-fry. They ate on the rooftop. Tim thanked him for dinner by pulling him down for a kiss under the stars.

 

They ended up sixty-nining on Tim’s ridiculously large bed. Jason falls asleep with his mouth stretched around Tim’s swollen knot, his body humming with post-fuck pleasure, and his Omega hormones purring with contentment.

----

The problem was that his fucking tits didn’t understand that Damian wasn’t around 24/7. They hadn’t stopped leaking milk. Every few hours they ACHED, as if letting Jason know it was feeding time. BUT THERE WEREN’T ANY PUPS TO FEED YOU STUPID MILKSACS!

 

Tim had spent the morning after massaging Jason’s aching tits until the milk was spilling between the alphas fingers. Then he suckled them, drinking Jay’s titties dry so they finally stopped aching.

 

“Gods, your chest is fantastic Jason. You are so gorgeous. You’re breathtaking.”

 

“Like my titties, do ya Timmy? Wanna fuck em?”

 

Tim’s eyes blew wide and he pulled himself up to straddle Jay’s chest. “I do, my gorgeous princess. I really do,” Tim said. Jason grinned up at his—boyfriend? Alpha fuck buddy? Whatever.

 

Tim grabbed Jason’s tits and pushed them together. His tits leaked milk. Soon, Tim was thrusting between Jason’s leaky boobs hard enough to create loud, wet slapping sounds. This position was new to them; Jay had never been able to see Tim’s face before. The way the normally calm eyes blew wide with lust. The little smile he sent Jason’s way when they made eye contact. The way he threw back his head with a silent scream of ecstasy when Tim’s knot popped and he came all over Jay’s face.

 

The way Tim’s chest heaved as he leaned down to kiss Jason.

 

It was gorgeous.

----

Still. Jason’s tits didn’t stop leaking even after a good fuck. So Jason found himself sneaking into the last place he thought he would ever break into: Wayne Manor. He was met with a sword.

 

“If you think me an easy target, intruder, you have sorely miscalculated.” Damian hissed.

 

“Hello to you too bat boy,” Jason grinned, pulling the sharp edge away from his throat.

 

Damian’s eyes widened and he quickly sheathed the sword stepping away from the window to let Jason in. “I apologize Jawhara. I had not realized it was you,” Damian looked down at the ground, “If you wish to enact revenge for my insult-“

 

“Damian,” Jason growled, letting his hand run gently through his pups hair, “I’m not mad. I’ll never want to extract vengeance for something so minor. Come here little pup.” Jason pulled Damian close.

 

“Jawhara, I know I swore to present as Alpha and earn your favor by defeating Drake, but I have not yet presented,” Damian said.

 

Jason snorted, “No shit. It’s been less than 24 hours. Look, pup. Ugh, shit. This is weird. But, you hungry? My tits are leaking and they hurt like a bitch. You seem to have activated milk mode, and I’m not sure how to turn the fuckers off. So-” Jason pulled off his shirt, “Hungry?”

 

Damian’s eyes sparkled, “Jawhara. Truly, you are unrivalled in your talent and generosity. Though if I may ask, was my gift not to your liking my Jewel? I could purchase you a different set? Or a bejeweled dagger, if that was more to your liking?”

 

Jason couldn’t say no Damian’s literal puppy eyes. “No, no, puppy. I loved your gift. I just- haven’t had time to insert them. I will. They were beautiful; thank you for them.”

 

It wasn’t long before Jason was lying bare chested on Damian’s bed, the kid suckling on his nipples. He’d occasionally let out a contented chirp, a sign of a happy puppy. Jason let himself relax into the cushions. The room smelled heavily of incense, but also like—cats? or dogs? Fur, at any rate. Incense and fuzzy animals. Just like one of the blankets Tim had gotten him. What a coincidence.

 

Puppy. Hungry puppy. Jason’s whole body seemed to purr with contentment.

 

Then there was a knock on the door. Jason’s eyes snapped over. Damian was too lost in his happy puppy world to react to the sound. Jason had ten seconds to silently agonize about what he should do. Respond? Push his pup away and hide? Jump under the bed with his pup?

 

Alfred opened the door. The butler was carrying a cup of what looked like milk. “Master Damian, your bedtime glass of—oh.”

 

Jason kind of wanted to die. Fuck. “Hello Alfred.”

 

“Master Jason. It is good to see you again, my boy. Even if the occasion is somewhat unexpected. Perhaps I may expect to see you tomorrow evening? I believe there are a few things we may discuss.”

 

Jason gulped, “Yes Alfred.”

 

“Wonderful. I shall see you tomorrow Master Jason,” the butler said before taking his leave and closing the door behind him.

 

It took another 20 minutes for Damian to drink his fill and fall into a contented sleep.

----

That night the Bat clan descended on Falcone and all his goons. The Falcone's electronics died first. Then screams were heard from inside supposedly abandoned buildings, Falcone drug boats were set ablaze, and men were picked up from the streets one by one. As dawn broke, more than forty men and woman with battarang shaped bruises were found tied op on the Police station’s front steps. A USB full of incriminating evidence was found sitting on top of the commissioner's desk. 

 

No one fucks with the bat’s kids.

----

Jason readjusts his jacket a few times nervously before ringing the front door to Wayne manor. After a few moments, Alfred answers the door with a subtle smile.

 

“It’s good to see you, master Jason.”

 

“Good to see you too, Alfred.”

 

Later, they’re both sitting in the guest room. Alfred has poured them both tea and is taking a careful sip.  “Master Bruce is out of the house at the moment, master Jason. You need not worry that you’ll run into him before you’re ready.”

 

Jason’s shoulders sag, and he makes an effort to take a sip of tea. The tea is fantastic, as always. “Thanks Alfred. I just don’t think I’m ready to talk to him yet.”

 

“Regardless, I am glad to see you my boy. Although perhaps in the future, lock the door when feeding young master Damian?”

 

Jason blushes. “Yup. Yeah no. Got that.”

 

Alfred smiles slightly and puts his cut down gently. “I also have a gift for you,” he says as he passes Jason a small velvet box. “It is traditional, of course. But I must confess to have a second reason for my gift. I hope that it may help you watch your tongue, especially around young master Damian.”

 

Jason laughs, “Fuck.”

 

“Master Jason. Really.”

 

Jason grins as he opens the box. It was some kind of stud with a ruby in drop of glass on top of a thin bar. “Tongue piercing, I’m assuming?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

Alfred places his hand gently on Jason’s arm, “How have you been Master Jason? Truly?”

 

Jason smiles hesitantly, “Confused, mostly.” Taking a deep breath, Jason tells him more. Not everything, obviously. But about the pit. About the anger. About feeling like garbage for so long. About the absolute clusterfuck—“language, Master Jason”—that was presenting as an Omega. They make a second batch of tea.

 

Jason doesn’t leave until hours later, after he’s fed Damian.

----

“Why do you smell like Damian?” Tim growled as Jason leans over him to put dinner on the table.

 

Jason growls back. He goes through all the effort of making food and Tim decides to act like a jealous shit? Fuck no. “I’m feeding him. He’s a pup. That’s what ‘Mega’s do.”

 

“Do you have to smell like him though?” Tim grumbles, “baby Alpha’s crawling all over you.”

 

“You’re right, I should just get my attachable tit hose and feed my pup from a five foot distance shall I?”

 

Tim pauses, “When did Damian become your pup?”

 

Jason freezes, “A pup. Not my pup. ‘m not parta da pack.”

 

Tim reaches out and grabs Jason’s hand. “You are part of the pack. Bruce would accept you back in a heartbeat if you asked. And even if he didn’t, you have gifts from the rest of the pack. If he rejects you we’ll start a new pack without him.”

 

Jason pulls away and sits down with his own bowl of pasta, not making eye contact. “Why are you so jealous of a pup, but practically pushing me into another Alpha’s arms? Not worried I’ll smell like him too?”

 

Tim snorts as if Jason had just told a joke, “Bruce isn’t interested in his kids. Besides, he’s gay.”

 

“What? No he isn’t.”

 

“He is pretty much only interested in Alpha woman. Talia? Cat woman? Pretty sure he and Wonder Woman were a thing too, for a while.”

 

“Shit. Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re so pissed at Damian.”

 

“Little brat is a bloody thorn in my side. You read his bloody letter. How am I supposed to be casual about a person who has declared his intentions to challenge me to a mate-stealing duel? How old does the brat need to be before punching him in the face no longer counts as child abuse?”

 

“If you hurt my pup I will hurt you twice as much. So don’t even think it. Besides, I choose who my alpha is, not some dumb ass Alpha squabble. You’re mine till I tell you otherwise. ”

 

Tim grumbles, but Jason can see him smile.

----

Jason was wearing all his gifts. The ear studs, the nipple rings, the sash, the tongue piercing and of course his cu- Maiden’s Jewel. Signs that his family wanted him, acknowledged him. Signs that they would back him even if their alpha threw him out.

 

“Want me to come with you?” Tim asked. Tim and the rest of the pack were a few feet behind Jason in Wayne manor.

 

“Nah. I need to talk to the old man myself,” Jason readjusted his leather jacket awkwardly, and then reached toward the office door. Show time.

----

This was it. The rest of the pack was waiting outside the office. It was just Jason and Bruce. Bruce was sitting behind his desk, his full attention on Jason. Those piercing blue eyes looking right through him.

 

“Bruce, I-” Just tell him. It’s just words, this should be easy. Just say it. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. Even if he rejects you Tim would still—the pack would still--. Ok. Fuck. Ok. “I’m an Omega.”

 

“Thank you for telling me,” Bruce said, serious and still.

 

Jason narrowed his eyes. Bruce was not nearly surprised as he should be, unless… “Fuck, you already knew, didn’t you?”

 

“Language.” Bruce chastised, but didn’t deny it the claim.

 

“How did you find out? Was it Nightwing. I bet it was Nightwing. Goldie can’t lie to you.”

 

“I found out on the day you presented.”

 

Jason groaned. Burying his head in his hands. He should have expected this, honestly. He was the freakin’ Batman. “How?”

 

“Red Robin mentioned you left the mission early, without post-mission banter. That’s outside your normal MO, so I investigated whether or not you’d been injured. Red Robin had placed a GPS on all of the gangster’s vehicles before entering the warehouse. Following the motorcycle you hotwired to your safe house wasn’t difficult. The seat of the vehicle was covered in Omega slick, and both scent recognition and DNA testing confirmed that it belonged to you.”

 

“Great,” Jason grumbled, “So if you already knew, why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“You seemed to be having trouble adjusting to your secondary gender. I thought it would have worsened our relationship had I reached out to you shortly after your presentation.” Bruce held his eye contact, “Jason. I always wanted you back in the manor, I still do. Both before and after you presented. You’re pack, Jason. You’re my son.”

 

Jason swallowed around the familiar lump in his throat and tried not to sob like a baby. “Fuck, Bruce.”

 

“Language.”

 

Jason couldn’t stop the tears from streaking down his face or the sob that escaped his lips. Pack. Pack. He was pack. “Bite me,” Jason whispered, “please Alpha. I want to be pack so bad. I know I fucked up. Fuck, I know. But, please?”

 

Jason presented his neck. It felt right. Bruce was his pack Alpha.

 

Bruce growled deeply, the sounds running down Jason’s spine. “You are pack, Jason,” he growled, walking forward and pulling the Omega close, “You are the heart of the bat clan, the jewel of the Wayne pack, our Omega. We all love you so much, Jay.” Bruce bit down hard, and Jason keened, legs turning to jelly.

 

Pack. He was pack.

----

*Three months later*

 

Jason was wearing his gifts. And only his gifts.

 

His ear studs glinted in the room’s dim light. His nipple rings barely held back the milk from his swollen tits. His sash was tied around his knees, preventing his legs from spreading as Tim used his thighs. He was biting his tongue piercing as he tried to stop himself from screaming in pleasure. Bruce’s collar was wrapped around his neck- officially marking him as “Wayne pack” for all to see- and the ruby-studded gold tag thudded against his collarbone with each of Tim’s trusts.

 

His presentation gala was in half an hour and he was supposed to be getting ready. He was about to be officially presented to high society as Gotham’s Maiden Princess, but he was too busy being bent over a vanity and having his thighs fucked.

 

 “You’re so gorgeous, princess,” Tim whispered in his ear, “Look at yourself darling- look how beautiful you are.”

 

Jason moaned deeply, letting his tongue ring click against the back of his teeth to prevent himself from swearing. He looks at Tim through the mirror he’s being fucked into. The Alpha’s in a fancy suit, eyes lidded and so fucking hot. Fuck.

 

Tim’s swelling cock pokes through his wet thighs, poking at Jason’s own tiny cocklette before disappearing again. Like most male Omega’s Jason’s balls had completely disappeared over time, and his cock had shrunk to less than half it’s previous size. His cocklette was now about as long as Tim’s swollen knot was thick.

 

Tim cooed as he reached around and grabbed Jason’s cocklette. “Look at how good you’re being, Princess. How good you’re being for me,” Tim started to rub Jason gently.

 

“No, no. Tim. Please,” Jason breathed between gasps, “Don’t tease. Please. I want—”

 

“Nonsense, my gorgeous Omega,” Tim said, jerking Jason’s cocklette faster, squeezing a little tighter, “Come for me baby. I know you can do it, beautiful.”

 

Jason shivered as his cocklette squirted a few drops of sterile cum onto his stomach. He almost cried. His cock could still cum, but it was a weaker partial pleasure compared to when his cunt was pleasured- in other words, a tease. “Fuck! Fuck! Please! Alpha please! I need the real thing. Please Tim. I need it so bad.”

 

“Hmm… Tell me Princess, which one of your gifts is your favorite?” 

 

“Yours. Please Alpha. Your gift. My-my Maiden’s Jewels. Please, let me come Alpha. Please.”

 

Tim stopped his thrusts for a second and Jason almost sobbed. Then he felt Tim’s fingers pulling at the string of jewels in his cunt- moving it around gently. The thrusts started back up in earnest. Jason’s limp cocklette bobbed up and down due to the power of Tim’s movements. Jason clicked his piercing against the back of his teeth to stop from swearing. *click*. Then Tim started to tug and twist the jewels in time with his thrusts.

 

In and out and twist. In and out and pull. In and out--- “Ahhh!” Jason’s entire body shivered and shook as he –FINALLY- reached a proper orgasm. He rode the waves of pleasure as Tim’s hips stuttered and sped up.

 

Several seconds after Jason had turned into a pile of goo, cum splattered over his chest as his Alpha came between his slick thighs.  He could feel the knot expand and set; pressing his own spent cocklette against his abdomen.

 

For several moments, the only sound in the room was heavy breathing. Then Tim untied the sash keeping Jason’s legs together and pulled away.

 

“Tiiiimmm, no. Come back, g’damn’t.”

 

“Jason, my gorgeous princess, you need to get ready for your presentation gala.”

 

“Diamond District bullshit. What kind of *click* even have f-*click* gala anymore? ‘Sides, your knot's still swollen and I want to sit on it.”

 

“Is that any way for Gotham’s Maiden Princess to talk, my gorgeous Omega?”

 

*click* *click* *click* “I am literally covered in your cum.”

 

“On the outside. So your virginity is intact, according to Omega standards. Now get refreshed and dressed. I will join the gala in a bit.”

 

“Wipe off all the cum and slick staining my skin and then get dolled up for the dumb-ass party while you hide in a room and wait for your knot to unpop so you don’t waltz around with a giant stiffy- Got it.”

----

Jason wore his leather jacket over the elegant black dress someone had laid out for him. The black apparently make his red sash and jewelry “pop” or whatever.

 

He tried to be polite and acceptable to high society, but got pretty tired of their fuckin’ bullshit pretty fast. If it weren’t for Dick interfering on his behalf, he probably would have punched two judgmental old ladies in the face. When someone tried to grab his ass during a boring dance, Jason would have thrown the guy over his shoulder if Cass hadn't pulled Jason away and twirled with him on the dance floor. Cass smelled like a Beta, but also smelled identical to the fake Beta scent Jason had bought a few months back. Bruce’s “Brucie” persona was in full swing at the party- vapid, drunk and loud. Brucie shows off his long lost son Jason to all of his high society friends.

 

Jason knew the paparazzi was going to insist on taking pictures of his gifts, but that didn't mean he was going to sit pretty and bat his lashes at the camera. So when the paparazzi swam forward to take pictures of Jason, he flipped them all off and opened his mouth wide to show off his tongue piercing. His earrings, sash and collar were visible to everyone. His dress was tight enough to show off the shape of his nipple piercings. And somehow, before the end of the night the rumor that Jason was still a maiden due to the “traditional method” of virginity protection had made it’s rounds among Gotham’s elite. Tim, undoubtedly. Little shit.

---

The party made headlines around the world the following day.

 

“Gotham’s Punk ‘Princess’ is still a Maiden!”

 

“One of the world’s richest men presents unmated Omega as part of pack!”

 

“What other ruby piercings does Gotham’s Punk ‘Princess’ have? Read more on pg.3”

 

“What is a Maiden’s Jewel, and why does Gotham’s new ‘Princess’ have one?”

 

“Gotham’s new feisty ‘Princess’ from Crime Alley!”

 

“Will you be the one to mate the richest Maiden Omega in the world? More on pg.7”

 

Jason burned them all.

 

The ‘Punk Princess’ porn that flooded the Internet the following weeks was even worse.

Notes:

It should be noted: Please do not try shoving rock into any body parts. This is absolutely horny fiction that ignores the rules of medicine whenever I so wish.

So enjoy Omegeverse horniness, but do not try this at home. :P

Series this work belongs to: