Work Text:
Jon Kent felt his nerves on edge as he ascended the private elevator. Today was the day: he would finally meet his niece. Arriving at the luxury hotel where the couple temporarily resided, Jon paused before the massive oak door, hesitating for a second before knocking.
The door was opened by Tim Drake. The atmosphere was immediately flooded by Tim’s pheromones — a dense aroma of roasted coffee and leather, now tinged with a metallic, protective Alpha note. With the baby’s arrival, Tim’s territorial instinct was operating at maximum capacity.
— Oh, hi, Jon. — Tim offered a restrained smile, though his sharp blue eyes clinically assessed his brother-in-law. — Did you come to see Conner?
Jon nodded, feeling small before the authoritative aura Tim exuded. The Alpha stepped aside, and Jon entered the apartment. The luxury was absolute; the minimalist design and panoramic view of Gotham screamed "Wayne elite." It was a stark contrast to the rustic simplicity of the Smallville farm where Jon grew up. Unlike him, Conner seemed perfectly at home in that splendor, a result of years of pampering and manipulation by his "other father," Lex Luthor.
Upon reaching the main living room, Tim’s scent was eclipsed by something much sweeter. Conner Kent exuded pheromones of ripe blueberry and milk, a fragrance so maternal and comforting it was almost intoxicating. The Omega was nestled in a velvet armchair, eyes fixed on the tiny life resting in his arms.
Tim approached from behind Jon, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
— Quite a sight, isn’t it? — Tim’s voice held a possessive pride.
Jon could barely speak. His own inner wolf seemed to bubble; he yearned for that peace, that completeness. Conner noticed their presence and looked up, smiling with a tenderness he rarely showed the world.
— Jon... — the Omega whispered. — Come meet your niece.
With movements choreographed by caution, Conner transferred the small bundle into Jon’s arms. The weight was almost nothing, but to Jon, it felt like he was holding the world. The baby had an ethereal scent of stardust and new skin. Unable to contain himself, Jon brought his nose to the top of the girl’s head, inhaling deeply and feeling a wave of euphoria hit his chest.
Conner watched the scene with a warm heart. For him, pack acceptance was everything. Clark, Lex, and Bruce had already paid their visits, but none of them had held the child with such vulnerability.
— Do you like her? — Tim asked, observing the almost religious adoration in Jon’s eyes.
— Yes... I love her — Jon replied, his voice choked.
— One day you’ll have yours with the "little demon" — Tim joked, extending his arms to retrieve his daughter. There was a pang of jealousy in the Alpha; seeing another Alpha, even if it was the uncle, showering his pup with so much attention triggered his biological alarms.
Jon pouted childishly, hugging the baby a little tighter before being reprimanded by Tim’s gaze. In the process, without realizing it, Jon’s pheromones — a scent of cut grass and summer sun — lightly leaked onto the baby’s blanket. Tim tensed his shoulders, his jaw clenching instantly as he smelled another Alpha marking his territory.
Conner, sensing the tension, held Tim’s arm and whispered:
— Leave him, Tim. He’s only eighteen... still a pup who can’t control what he exudes.
Tim sighed, forcing himself to relax. He was strict with visitors; until now, no one but the grandfathers and Conner had touched the baby. Jon was the exception, the only one truly allowed to feel her skin’s warmth.
— It’s a shame Damian doesn’t want one... — Jon commented, the sparkle in his eyes dimming to a shadow of sadness.
Tim let out a brief laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
— He might change his mind. You two are still too young, Jon.
— Don’t encourage that now, Tim — Conner interjected, giving his partner a light elbow. — Jon, focus on your college. Damian is deep into medicine; he doesn’t have a head for diapers right now.
— You’re right — Jon admitted, checking his watch. — Well... I need to go.
Tim didn’t wait for a second invitation. He moved abruptly, raising his arms. Jon gave his niece a final kiss on the forehead and handed her over with a sorrowful sigh.
— Bye, baby — he said, almost tearfully.
After a quick farewell to Conner, Jon walked out the door and left. The instant the lock clicked, Tim began to act. He sat on the sofa, bringing his daughter close to his neck, rubbing his face into the blanket and aggressively exhaling pheromones to bury any trace of Jon’s scent.
— You could have waited for him to turn the corner at least... — Conner commented, walking towards the kitchen to prepare dinner.
— Sorry, but his scent on her was suffocating me — Tim grumbled, his territorial instinct finally calming as his own coffee and leather aroma once again became the only dominant one on the child.
The scent of antiseptic and expensive books in Damian’s room at Wayne Manor was suddenly invaded by the strong, almost aggressive, odor of ozone and despair. Jon Kent landed on the balcony, not as a hero, but as a creature in agony. He didn’t knock on the glass door; he opened it with such force that the sound of the impact echoed down the hallway.
Damian, who was folding a silk shirt with surgical precision, didn’t even flinch. He merely sighed, boredom evident in his sharp green eyes.
— Kent. I don’t recall scheduling a mass hysteria for today.
Jon didn’t respond with words. He crossed the room in two strides and threw himself at Damian’s feet. It wasn’t a graceful kneel; it was a collapse. He grabbed Damian’s legs with excessive force, burying his face in the Omega’s thigh.
— Damian... please. Please — Jon soluçou, his deep Alpha voice broken, wet with tears.
Damian looked down, his expression unreadable, but a cold glint began to dance in his pupils. The sight of the most powerful man on the planet reduced to a puddle of tears at his feet... that was interesting.
— What is it now? — Damian asked, his voice dropping to a dangerously low and calm tone. — Solte-me, you’re wrinkling my clothes.
— I saw... I held Conner’s baby — Jon stammered, lifting his face. His blue eyes were red, swollen, the picture of misery. — I felt it, Damian. I need... I need a child. Ours.
Damian let out a short, cruel laugh. He didn’t move to comfort Jon. Instead, he used his foot to push Jon’s chin up, forcing him to look at him.
— A child? — Damian repeated, the word sounding like an insult on his lips. — You know very well my stance on this, Jonathan. I’m in my 8th semester of medicine. I’m not going to pause my life to carry your genetic burden because you had a primitive instinct outburst.
— I’ll do anything! — Jon pleaded, grabbing Damian’s foot that was on his chin, kissing the tip of his shoe in desperation. — I’ll drop out of college if I have to. I’ll take care of it. I’ll clean. I’ll build a house with my own hands. Just... let me get you pregnant. Please, Damian. I’m begging. I’d do anything. Anything.
Damian tilted his head. The words "anything" hung in the air. Jon’s scent was changing; the Alpha was humbling himself so much that his dominance pheromones were being suffocated by a scent of submission and pain. This stirred something dark and territorial in Damian. If Jon wanted to be an irrational animal guided by instinct, Damian would treat him as such.
— Anything, Kent? — Damian smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes. — Prove it.
Damian pressed his foot harder, forcing Jon to lay his chest on the floor. The Alpha didn’t resist. He lay there, at the Omega’s feet, silently crying, his body trembling.
— You want me to carry your child? You want to put this burden on me? — Damian continued, his voice lashing at Jon. — You’re selfish, Jonathan. A pathetic Alpha who can’t control his own basic impulses. Look at you. Crawling on the floor like a mangy dog. Is that the father you want for my child?
— I love you... I love you so much — Jon murmured against the floor, the humiliation burning more than any kryptonite, but the desire was greater. — I would be the best slave for you and the baby. Please, Damian. I can’t breathe without thinking about it.
Damian felt a shiver of sadistic pleasure run down his spine. The Alpha’s total breakdown was intoxicating. He removed his foot from Jon’s chest and knelt before him, taking Jon’s face in both hands, his nails lightly digging into the hero’s skin.
— You want to fill me with your seed so badly, Kent? — Damian whispered close to his ear, deliberately releasing his own sharp, provocative Omega pheromones, instantly dizzying Jon. — You want to use me as a vessel for your selfish instinct?
Jon gasped, Damian’s scent clouding his already weak judgment.
— Yes... yes, please...
— Then understand this, you idiot — Damian said, his voice rising, cruel and final. — If I do this, I will own every second of your life. You will have no career, you will have no rest. You will live to serve me and the child. And if you fail in a single aspect, I will take the baby from you and never let you see the light of day again. It’s take it or leave it, Kent. Crawl to me or leave now.
Jon didn’t hesitate. He buried his face in Damian’s hands, sobbing with relief and distorted gratitude. He kissed Damian’s palms with sickly adoration.
— Yes. Yes, my master. Yes. I am yours. All that I am is yours. Just... give me this chance.
Damian truly smiled now. A predatory smile. He grabbed Jon by the hair, forcing him up and throwing him onto the bed.
— No condoms, Kent. Do your worst. And remember: from today on, you are no longer a hero. You are my slave.
Jon Kent, the Superman of the future, didn’t care. He was broken, humiliated, and completely happy as he threw himself upon the Omega who possessed him entirely.
Two weeks later, Damian threw the digital pregnancy test at Jon’s face while the Alpha was kneeling, massaging his feet.
— Congratulations, Kent — Damian said, the voice cold, without a hint of warmth. — You got what you wanted. Now go get my tea and don’t you dare be slow.
Jon Kent looked at the result, tears of joy streaming down his face as he kissed Damian’s feet with even more fervor. The humiliation had been worth it. He had gotten his bond.