#Hinted jaytim

[yeetus-feetus]

WIP Wednesday

Tumblr prompt: Tim is the first to find out the Red Hood’s identity and from then on sticks to Jason during patrol like glue (much to Jason’s chagrin, dammit, it would feel wrong to beat up Robin when he’s that starry eyed…) Cue: panic from the rest of the batfamily who still think Hood is a 40-something year old crime lord and now assume they’re dating.

@ghost-bxrd

Jason sighs, looking up at the sky dramatically. “Robin, I know you’re following me”, he calls out into the darkness, and there’s shuffling behind him.

He turns around to see Robin step out of the shadows, letting his cape fall apart and reveal bright red and green spandex and kevlar. “I wish the outside of my cape was black, I was running around like a sparkling traffic light”, he pouts under the helmet.

“Mm, maybe you should’ve taken some initiative. I designed my Robin suit all by myself, you took whatever B gave you”, Tim replies teasingly.

Jason chuckles. “Mmm, and maybe you should try humbling yourself every once and a while”. He removes his helmet and quirks an eyebrow from under his domino mask. “Hard to believe Batman never noticed you following him, I noticed you 10 yards back.”

Tim grins, holding his camera up and Jason sticks his tongue out as he takes a photo. “That’s funny, Hood, considering I started following you 50 yards ago. I got bored and started wondering how long it would take you to notice me if I started being less careful.” he explains, looking down at the screen to check the quality of the photo he just took.

“Oh, that right huh?” Jason asks sarcastically, not really believing him.

Tim’s grin widens mischievously and he waves the camera in front of his face. “Want proof, big guy?” he asks.

Jason laughs and snatches the small device, clicking through the recently taken photos. After a moment he groans defeatedly. “Yeah okay, I should've known you’d do something like that you little weirdo. so, how’d I hold up to your little test?”

Tim shrugs. “I wouldn’t call it a test, more of a game to entertain myself really”. But Jason raises his eyebrows up at him, making him sigh. “Yeah okay, you lost the game or failed or whatever. But you did fare better than Big Blue, so there’s that.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason smirks, still clicking through photos.

“Yup”, Tim says, popping the ‘p’. And hoists himself up onto the brick parapet, back facing the city as his feet dangle about an inch off the concrete roof. He tilts his head at Jason when he doesn’t move from where he’s standing, low glow of the open camera screen illuminating his face.

“These are actually really good”, Jason finally says, looking up at him. “Like really clear and in focus. It’s impressive”. He walks over and hands the camera back, leaning against the brick.

“Thanks”, Tim smiles. “I’ve always been really into photography, y'know? It’s like capturing a moment in time and immortalising it, so it will exist forever, even when I'm gone. I really like that aspect of it”.

Jason hums in response. “Never took you as someone sentimental”, he comments.

Tim is quiet, but it’s obvious he’s thinking. And then he hums back. “I didn’t realise I was either”.

This time Jason is the one observing, watching Tim rub his thumb over the side of his camera, and wonders if Tim felt the same way about his photos from before he died, if he looked at the the same way he’s looking at these photos now… if he kept jason alive in still frames while he was gone.

Then he decides he’s making it too deep and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it as Tim turns his head towards him and scrunches up his nose. “Gross, dude.”

“What?” Jason asks, mildly offended.

“I hate the smell of cigarettes”, Tim states. “I don’t care if you smoke them just, not around me, please”, he says, nose still scrunched as he shimmies away, keeping his hands braced on the brick so he doesn’t fall backwards.

Normally, Jason would roll his eyes and take a deep inhale, maybe blow the smoke back out into the other person's face just to spite them. But Tim isn’t telling him not to smoke, he’s asking him not to smoke around him. And, maybe Tim’s scrunched up nose is kinda cute.

So he snubs the cigarette out and puts it back in its box to save for later. “Fine, but I’m getting something to eat then”, Jason complains.

“Cool, I know a really good burrito place not far from here”, Tim smiles, and then he’s throwing himself backwards off the roof, laughing loudly when Jason rushes up to look over the edge.

“You little fucker!” Jason shouts out as he watches Robin shoot his grappling line and swing from a lower roof across the way. “Oh, I’m gonna get that little shit!”, he grumbles to himself, taking a breath to calm the sudden spike of worried adrenaline Tim caused before chasing after him.

Tim pays for their burritos and a tub of Mexican rice before Jason even has the chance to get out his wallet, and they end up eating them on a roof together a block away.

“Ohh yeah, this is good stuff”, Jason moans around a mouthful, and Tim giggles around his plastic spoon. “Okay, you’re forgiven for scaring the shit out of me earlier”, he mumbles, taking another bite of his burrito.

Tim sits the rice aside to take a picture of Jason with food on his face, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. Then another photo of Jason sticking the finger up at him. “Lol thats gold, I might make that my laptop’s screensaver”, Tim laughs.

“The laptop you keep all your creepy stalker folders on?” Jason asks, mouth still half-full, leaning over to try and get a look at the camera screen. “oh my god I look so stupid, please don’t!” he laughs.

“Oh gross Jason!” Tim squeals, brushing little bits of burrito off his suit. “Stop talking with your mouth full, you’re getting food everywhere!” but Jason only laughs harder, and ends up choking.

Tim rubs his back as he chokes and sputters over the edge of the roof, and laughs at his expense. “Here, have some of my water.”

Jason ends up chugging all of Tim’s water, so Tim steals his Soda in retaliation. It ends up as a game of rooftop tag until they’re both out of breath and decide to head to their separate ways to get some rest.

And that becomes a frequent occurrence on quiet nights after that. Sometimes even working together on a few cases. It’s honestly quite a lot of fun for both of them, a nice change of pace from the usual doom and gloom of Gotham’s streets.

⧫

Tim is tinkering away with some sort of gadget in the Batcave one afternoon when Alfred stops by with some snacks on a silver platter. “Everything alright with you young sir?” he asks politely.

“Yeah Alf, everything's great actually”, Tim replies cheerfully. But Alfred loiters by him for a few moments too long, making Tim lift his head to look at him questioningly. “What’s up?”

Alfred frowns. “Nothing, Master Timothy. Just, do know that you can come to talk to me about anything if you need, absolutely anything”. He pats Tim on the shoulder in some kind of gesture of comfort before leaving Tim confused at his desk.

What was that about?

But Tim is even more confused later on patrol with Batman. Which was already odd actually, usually they don’t patrol together unless they’re working on a case together, or on a mission, or just something important– there’s nothing important happening tonight. B just told him that they were patrolling Midtown and to get in the batmobile.

And so there they were, driving around in dead silence.

“So… Tim, how’ve you been lately?” B asks, voice gruff and tone awkward.

That makes Tim turn around in his seat to face the older man with his whole body, confusion and worry on his face. “I’m good… why the sudden interest?” he asks cautiously. “Is there something up that I should be worried about?”

Bruce grunts and spares a glance at him before looking back at the road. “I was just asking.” and then, after a few beats of quiet: “You’ve been spending an awful amount of time around the Narrows and Crime Alley”, he states. Oh. That’s Jason’s territory.

Oh.

“Are you worried about Red Hood or something?” Tim asks. Well, this is… complicated.

Bruce grunts again. “Or something.” he turns the car around a sharp corner and Tim braces himself against the seat at the sudden change of route.

He thinks whatever that conversation is over, but a few moments later Batman speaks up again. “Just stay away from him. He’s bad news Robin.” Tim turns to give him a look. “I’m serious. No more patrolling Uptown”.

“What!?” Tim asks. “Are you banning me or something??”

“Yes.” And Tim knows his word is final. Batman’s word is law after all.

He huffs and sits back in his seat, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Fine, he won’t patrol in Uptown. He’ll just have to figure out a way to convince Jason to meet with him in Midtown somehow. No, that won’t work. Red Hood won’t leave his turf unattended to.

Buut. there is a loophole here that he can take advantage of…

[vivi-scera]

ohhhh i have so many questions to ask now that i apologize beforehand for throwing you questions instead of actually giving a response-reply to your ask 😭

1) “i like thinking about jason-robin's relationship with bruce the most but i like tim as robin best” plss if u could pls elaborate on this? this is so interesting bcs for a second i thought it would be jason robin or even dick robin since hes the first one!

2) ”i think i was mostly thinking bruce/jason since i was talking about johndean” this is interesting too bcs i was hyperfocused on comparing dean’s devotion to dick’s, hence my ask & why i bring dick robin specifically, and now im curious abt your comparison :D

3) “i'm going to be actively problematic and say that bruce sees dick as something less than his partner and something more than his son” is it like what i think it is is it more in line with smth smth owning smth smth *eyes emoji*

4) your tags!! thats interesting too that you prefer jaytim as batcest, instead of like timdick whos more like brothers or jaydick with jason’s “envy” (to simplify it) at dick’s golden boy ness (also to simplify it) which could be a source of conflict between jason & bruce

haha no worries, i did totally set you up.

1.yeah so tim is my favorite robin <3 relatively unpopular opinion to have in my immediate circle apparently. though probably not as unpopular as saying damian is your favorite. but like, tim's the underdog! the odd one out!! he understands the meta-narrative role that robin plays in batman's life and tries to fulfill it. he's such a deeply interesting character not only in how he views himself as the weakest robin/the robin batman didn't choose, but also in how the other robins, canonically, view tim as the best out of them (because he's the most like daddy). i don't mind as much when fanon obfuscates his characterization because he really can be such a blank slate, more or less. as in, meta-narratively, tim decides to be whatever/whoever is best for batman, erasing the part of himself that is tim drake in favor of coalescing with "robin". he's the only robin who really is robin. which is really very tragic if you think about it. but also makes for fantastic bruce/tim fodder :) i would expand more on my love for tim but this ask would get WAY too long. read Liminal Space by Calamityjim on ao3 if you've watched young justice and have read the red robin 2009 run (an EXCELLENT read btw) if you want the gist of the angst.

as for the others, i think jason has had the best character evolution —not just in the batman storyline but as a comic character in general. i really think his death, and to a much lesser extent his rebirth, is the best/most impactful development in all of superhero comic history. superheroes as we know them today would largely not exist without his character. dick is fine, i like him third best. just because he was the first doesn't make him special to me lmao. the fact that others came after him is what makes him interesting to me, in addition to his relationship with batman— which is currently the most interesting batman-robin romantic relationship to me rn. i've seen some insane meta about him around but mostly based on somewhat outdated runs, which really doesn't mean anything when it comes to comics i guess. i don't think he's been in anything interesting/good in over a decade. i also wish i could mail tom taylor anthrax <3 damian is... my least favorite (skipping steph, sorryy i do love her but there's not enough canon for me to have an actual opinion). i think damian's interesting but only as a source of conflict (and ofc his dynamic with dick-batman). he doesn't really stand on his own and he's annoying.

2. i don't necessarily think that bruce/jason is closer to johndean than bruce/dick is (i actually think bruce/tim is closer relatively, but there's not a comparable pairing imo. i also just don't think dick is necessarily "devoted" to batman as much as tim is. his goals, like mentioned, align more with being able to call himself bruce's equal, which could be conflated with desire i.e. in bruce/dick). but there are a lot of functional aspects of the jason-robin & batman dynamic that is parallel to the relationship between dean and john as hunters imo— mostly having to do with consensual practices. is dean/jason-robin in control of his narrative purpose as a hunter/sidekick or are they doing what is necessary to survive? what does it mean for either of them when duty and pleasure are conflated? etc. i really love the headcanon that jason was a child-prostitute, which would be a functional role that carried over in being robin for another older man, so that was mostly where i was coming from. child soldiers... can't get enough of em.

3. haha i don't really know what the "something" is that i was referring to, just some vague middle ground that's gonna go undefined because where's the fun in defining the relationship that a man shares with the preteen ward in his possession who he may or may not want to be his son but who he treats like a spouse because mentally & emotionally he hasn't moved on from the day he was 9 years old and his parents died. maybe dick grows up but bruce never will :'). well, maybe he grows up a little when each robin leaves him

4. and yaaaa jaytim, favorite pairing of all time. they can be enemies to lovers. the ghost and the haunted. rebecca and the narrator. brother-rivals trying to become their father but who are held back by the lack of a quality that the other possesses (see nearmello death note). i'm gonna go the fanon route and say jason was tim's robin (even though, timeline wise, it could totally have been dick). so there is that adoration-envy (that tim would have for jason) that jason would have for dick in jaydick (which is a pairing i also like, don't get me wrong! i just maybe like it as a one-sided thing. or we could have the worst love triangle in the world with damian->tim->jason->dick->bruce all unrequited lmao). but in jaytim there's the addition of the danger element— jason at one point or another did want to kill tim. and not only was jason tim's robin, he was also his ghost story! an example of what would happen to tim if something went wrong. so adoration-envy-fear which transmutes to sexual interest. very sadomasochistic route we could take there. and for jason, tim is the kid who replaced him! who's evidently better at being daddy's favorite! he can die psychosexually mad about it. neither timdick or jaydick have that enemies/lovers edge that i really like (see kurokura hunter x hunter). they also just have some interesting canon history that writers never get into— like batman-jason trying to conscript tim as his robin during battle for the cowl. i am TRYING to write a jaytim fic but i keep getting distracted by other pairings. i thought i was gonna get to it after finishing the one i'm working on but i might just do brudick next so we'll see. send more questions/responses if you have them <3

[bee-a-garbage-shipper]

Red Robin gets hit with a love spell during battle that knocks him out and will make him fall in love with the first person he sees when he wakes up.

The Bats takes him back to the Cave and while they wait for Bruce to get Zatanna or some other magic user to come help break the spell they all agree Red Hood should be who Red Robin sees and he can deal with a lovestruck Red Robin.

Since he'd be the one best able to handle that without the awkwardness of being his ex.

(Steph is his ex, Dick is in Bludhaven, Cass is in Hong Kong and Duke has a girlfriend. Which leaves Bruce. (He refused.) Barbara. (She laughed.) Or Damian. (Everyone agreed it was best not to.) So, Jason is what's left.)

Only, when Tim wakes up and sees Jason, he doesn't act any differently. He just gets up and demands a mission report and tries to go about business as usual, much to everyone's confusion.

(And to the disappointment of Stephanie, who had her phone out ready to record.)

They explain the love spell and wonder why nothing happened and Tim just says that obviously it didn't work and to not worry too much about it.

The spell did work it's just that Tim was already in love with Jason so nothing actually changed outwardly.

Bruce manages to get Zatanna there a few days later and examines Tim, and is also confused because there's definitely a love spell on him and there's no reason it shouldn't be working. To prevent her from looking further into it and making a big deal, Tim, in private, hints at why there might not be any effects.

Zatanna gets it and agrees to remove the spell and say that it just wasn't that strong after all.

Everybody seems to accept that explanation and move on, except for Jason, who knows Tim is hiding something and he's determined to find out what.

(Bruce also realizes that something is up but wants to respect Tim's privacy.)

Inspired by This SuperBat Post with some edits for JayTim.

[ladytauria]

i am soooo predictable but.... Hands firm on their thighs, keeping them from snapping them shut. for jaytim my beloved <33333

i combined this prompt with these two---or, well. this prompt from you and @waffleinator-inator <3

um. click under the cut for 3k of slow, tender jaytim body worship <3

this is. barely proofread. apologies for any mistakes ^^; pls don't be afraid to point out any typos <333 i will give this a more thorough edit tomorrow--probably. for now! enjoy <3

>> AO3 <<

Jason has a body made to be worshiped, in Tim’s opinion. How lucky he is to have him spread out on cotton sheets, naked as the day he was born, so utterly willing to let Tim have his way with him.

Tim starts at his feet. He cups his hand around one ankle, raising it in the air, pressing the softest of kisses to the sole. Tim isn’t particularly into feet, the way some people are—but he adores how sensitive they are. As if in testament, Jason jerks. Tim’s grip is firm, keeping him in place, but his toes curl.

“T-Tim,” he says, too tremulous to be properly chiding. Color blooms over his face, the loveliest shade of rose-red.

“Jason,” Tim replies, a little bit mocking, a little bit a reminder. He decides how this is going to go. Just to really let it sink in, he kisses again; this time with a hint of tongue. The bitten off noise he gets is delightful. His mouth curls.

He kisses Jason’s ankle next; lingering over the jut of it. He angles his neck to kiss the tendon, his achilles heel, before lifting the leg higher so he can trail a string of kisses up Jason’s calf.

Both of them are scarred all over—a hazard of the job. Tim gets grafts put on anything too obvious; anything else can be simply explained away by both the treacherous nature of Gotham City and his own athletic pursuits. Jason has not had the same luxury. Nor does Tim think he would take it if anyone offered it. Jason’s scars are part of him, whether he likes them or not, and he doesn’t let go of what belongs to him.

It’s a trait they share.

Jason doesn’t have many scars on his calves, though, and those that are there are faded. Tim pays extra attention to them anyway.

He doesn’t get another noise until he reaches the back of Jason’s knee—the skin there is thin and delicate, and he knows from experience that it’s one of Jason’s sensitive spots. He nuzzles first; relishing in Jason’s sharp intake of breath. Then he kisses with the slightest scrape of teeth. Jason makes a low, tremulous sound.

Tim glances up at him—he has an arm thrown over his face. His teeth dig into his lip, and his face and throat are both still painted red. His other hand fists the sheets.

Precious.

Tim repeats the process on the other leg—Jason trembles and twitches under the ministrations. Tim relishes each and every reaction. He loves how responsive Jason is. He reacts so beautifully to gentleness. It makes Tim want to keep him like this forever.

Tim skips over his thighs for now. Jason’s cock is still mostly soft. Tim can’t help the urge to plant a kiss on it, the flesh soft and hot under his lips. Jason makes a high, embarrassed sound, his flush darkening, spreading over his chest. Tim’s mouth twitches, unable to resist doing it again.

His firm grip on Jason’s thighs is all that keeps them from snapping shut; a second, higher noise escaping him at the same time. He looks up at Tim, eyes already wide and a little pleading.

It breaks Tim’s heart a little, how easily Jason folds under a bit of softness.

At the same time—it’s truly a pleasure to see him so sweet and vulnerable under him. “Ah-ah,” he scolds. “You’re mine right now. I want to enjoy you.”

Jason’s bottom lip is red and swollen, caught between his teeth again. His eyes are glossy. “Y-yes sir,” he whispers, a tremor in his voice.

Tim rubs his thighs reassuringly. “Just lie back and  relax, sweetheart.”

Jason hesitates a moment. Tim waits for him to use his safe word, or otherwise indicate he’s too overwhelmed to continue, but—then he settles back down again.

As soon as he’s relaxed again, Tim slides his hands up to Jason’s hips. He nuzzles his belly, before kissing down the trail of hair leading to his groin. Tim trails more kisses over his pelvic bone, nibbling a little at his love handles, and the pouch of fat over his groin. He lavishes his stretch marks with attention, too; following their paths with his tongue, tasting the salt of his skin.

Jason’s breaths come faster now; bitten off moans and gasps getting stuck in his throat. Tim hates how quiet he is—well. That’s not quite true. He wouldn’t mind if Jason was quiet naturally. What he hates is the way Jason suppresses all noise; like he’s afraid of letting on just how good he’s feeling.

That’s alright, though. Tim has time, and plenty of patience. He can coax those pretty sounds out of him.

He makes sure to pay special attention to the places on Jason’s sides where he’s most sensitive, delighting in the way he squirms. Then, finally, he goes back to Jason’s stomach, where the bottom of his Y-incision starts, and follows it up to Jason’s chest, kissing to each end, and then back to the middle again.

Jason’s breaths sound wetter now—Tim rubs his sides reassuringly, glancing up at him just as a quick check-in. Jason smiles tremulously; a sheen of tears over his eyes. Tim smiles back at him and nuzzles his collarbone.

He cups Jason’s chest in his hands; the relaxed muscle of his pecs not that different from a pair of tits. Jason arches into his hands when he squeezes, sighing sweetly. Tim tweaks his nipples with his thumbs; the buds already hard and pointed despite the heater warming the bedroom.

As much as Tim wants to suck one into his mouth, he decides the circuitous path is the better one. He follows the defined line of his pectorals with his lips and tongue—cups and squeezes them again so he can bite them.

Jason is panting now—his hands coming to rest on Tim’s ribs, the breadth of them almost spanning his whole ribcage. It’s insanely hot. He can feel his cock filling out more, the arousal in his gut starting to burn hotter, more insistent.

Tim takes one of his nipples in his mouth. He sucks, swirling his tongue around the bud—the low groan he gets in response reverberates through Jason’s chest. Tim suckles at it for a bit before gentling his mouth, licking at the skin a few times before scraping it with his teeth.

The whimper Jason makes is loud and unrestrained in the silence—followed quickly by the slap of skin on skin when he covers his mouth, cheeks blazing scarlet.

Tim immediately slides up, taking Jason’s wrist in his hand. He pulls his hand from his mouth, pressing a brief kiss to his palm before kissing his cheek as well. Then he nuzzles him too, mouth against his jaw as he whispers, “Let me hear you, baby. I want to know I’m making you feel good.” He pauses. “You deserve to feel good.”

Another, quieter whimper. Jason squeezes his eyes shut—moisture gathers in the corner of his eyes.

Tim hums, lingering there, giving Jason time to compose himself. Eventually his eyes open again. He blinks quickly to dispel the tears, and then says softly, “I— I’ll try, sir.”

Tim smiles at him, kissing his nose. “Good boy. Thank you.”

That makes him close his eyes again, a shiver rocking his body. Tim gives him another second, and then returns to Jason’s chest. He follows the same path around the other pec; gives his right nipple the same attention as his left.

Jason does well at first, soft sighs and sounds escaping him. But the first higher, louder noise he makes startles him, his mouth immediately clamping shut again.

He opens it again as Tim trails kisses over his shoulders. He sits back so he can kiss down his arm;  over his bicep, the inner part of his elbow, down his forearm, his wrists. He kisses his palms, and each fingertip.

Back up again—down the other. Tears trickle down Jason’s cheeks now; his breaths hitching softly. He’s so pretty when he cries. Tim admits he gets a little eager, going back over his shoulders, his neck, not lingering as long as he means to. (Though he does, at least, remember to spend a little extra time on his throat scar.) 

At his face again, Tim rubs noses with him before kissing the tears away; licking the salt from his lips. “You’re doing so well for me, darling,” he murmurs. As much as he wants to lay the praise on thick, he doesn’t dare—not yet. Instead he kisses his chin, jaw, and cheeks. He nuzzles their noses again, kisses the corners of his mouth, over his eyelids, and the center of his forehead. He kisses back down his nose and ends at his mouth, kissing Jason deep and sweet.

Jason utterly melts beneath him. His mouth opens easily to Tim’s tongue. It’s Tim’s mouth that muffles his moan this time, but otherwise, there’s nothing restrained about it.

It’s music.

Makes Tim linger a little longer, just to hear more of them. And Jason gives them to him, his hands spasming on Tim’s skin.

When he pulls away, a line of spit connects them. It breaks when Tim pecks him again, and then slides down his body. Jason’s cock bumps his stomach on the way down—no longer soft but half-hard. Tim rubs his cheek against it when he passes it, returning to Jason’s thighs.

Fuck.

Jason’s thighs are glorious. Strong, muscular, easily capable of crushing a man’s skull. Dusted with fine hair, shimmering with stretch marks, and textured with a few ridged scars. Tim explores all of it with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

Jason tries—Tim can tell he does. But he keeps muffling himself, automatically biting his lip and clenching his jaw when he thinks he’s going to be too loud.

Tim finishes with his thighs. He nuzzled the base of his cock, cupping his balls in one hand and squeezing. That gets him a breathy sound, his thighs trembling. Tim kisses up his shaft, all the way to the flared mushroom head at the top. He rubs his cheeks against it; precome smearing sticky on his skin.

More high, whimpery moans come from Jason. His body shakes. The musk of his arousal fills Tim’s nose, making his mouth water.

He kisses the head; probes the slit with his tongue. Jason yelps at that, biting it back too late, causing a squeaky sort of sound at the end Tim almost wants to coo at.

He doesn’t. There are more important things to focus on.

Like lavishing his whole cock with little kitten licks. Jason is squirming now; not trying to get away, but the pleasure is clearly getting to him.

Gorgeous.

Tim sucks Jason into his mouth. The taste of him is thick; the girth of him heavy on his tongue. It’s good. Better is the way Jason shouts, body curling up automatically; chest heaving as he pants harsh and rough.

He collapses back into the bed; fingers tangling loosely in Tim’s hair. Tim would smile if his mouth wasn’t full.

He bobs his head a few times—and then swallows him down, nose buried in the thatch of hair at the base. Jason’s whimper sounds strangled. Tim pays him little mind, devoting his attention entirely to Jason’s cock

Tim uses his hands to cup and squeeze Jason’s balls, occasionally dipping behind to press and rub at his perineum. He can feel Jason’s muscles jumping; the way his legs twitch, his chest heaves, his fingers tugging at Tim’s hair. But he doesn’t buck into Tim’s mouth or try to guide his head.

He lets Tim set the pace.

Such a sweet boy.

Still—Tim can tell that, through the pleasure, he’s getting frustrated with himself. It’s in the tension in his belly, the way some of his noises sound more pained than others, the way sometimes he huffs when he should be sighing instead.

Poor darling. Tim eases Jason’s cock from his mouth. He suckles at the bundle of nerves under the head, then trails kisses down the shaft, over his balls. He cups them in his hand, lifting them to expose his [taint]. The high, reedy noise Jason makes when he kisses there is quickly cut off—and followed by a frustrated breath.

Tim kisses again, then turns to nuzzle his thigh before pulling back.

Jason whines. There’s no pleasure in the sound. It’s all panic and fear, and Tim rushes to cup his face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over his cheeks as he hushes him.

“Shh-hh, darling. I’m not upset,” he soothes. “You’re trying so hard for me, aren’t you?”

Jason blinks up at him. He looks so upset, his poor boy. 

Tim nuzzles him. “Don’t worry, baby. I know it’s hard. Let me help you.”

Jason makes a soft, inquisitive noise.

Tim smiles slyly as he lets go of Jason’s face. “Open up.”

Jason’s brow furrows, but his jaw drops obediently. Tim cups his jaw with one hand; his thumb sliding over Jason’s tongue, pressing down, forcing his mouth open.

Jason’s eyes go wide with realization. He can’t flush any darker, but Tim can see the embarrassment anyway. The way he leans into Tim’s hand, though, is distinctly thankful.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Tim tells him. He can’t not. Jason’s too damn pretty with his face all red and his mouth hanging open, drool already starting to collect on his bottom lip and spill down his chin. Tim wants. Besides—he can’t hold his mouth open and rim him too, so that’s off the table for now.

He can do that later.

With Jason’s help, Tim gets his knees hooked over Tim’s shoulders. There’s already a pillow supporting his hips, making it easy for him to reach under him and grip the plug he’d worked into him earlier. He pumps it a few times, grinning at the way Jason moans, before pulling it out and tossing it to the side.

He reaches for the lube. It’s a bit of a trick, getting it open one handed. He can’t exactly pour it onto his hand, either, so he just drizzles it right on his dick, flinching a little at the cold. He smears some on Jason’s hole, too, though he’s still fairly slick from the plug.

Jason shivers when he does, the tight ring of muscle fluttering under his touch. He makes a breathy noise, soft and sweet, his breath hot on Tim’s thumb.

It’s strangely erotic, keeping his finger in Jason’s mouth as he lines his cock up, slowly pushing inside. Jason’s body gives to him beautifully, swallowing his cock eagerly. The head slips into his rim with a soft ‘pop’—Tim’s hand moving from his dick to the back of Jason’s thigh.

“Nn—look at you,” Tim breathes. “So eager to be full, aren’t you, baby? Fuck. You fit me so well, like you were built for me. My gorgeous little cocksleeve.”

The sound he makes is beautiful, high and needy, a moan tinged with a whine. His eyes are wide and pleading when he looks at Tim. “Pl’s,” he says, around Tim’s finger.

Tim taps his jaw. “Ah-ah, darling. We don’t speak with our mouths full.”

His hips stutter at the noise that gets him. Tim grips his thigh tight enough to bruise, fighting the urge to snap his pelvis forward and bury himself to the root.

Slow. He’s going to take this slow.

Speed can come later.

For now he watches Jason’s face; each minute twitch of muscle. His eyes get more and more hazy, eyelids drooping. He pants in between moans and sighs. Drool drips down his chin, onto his neck and chest. He’s so fucking pretty.

Tim wants to eat him.

Jason’s body is a furnace. His walls flutter and clench around Tim’s cock; drawing him deeper, deeper. It’s both forever and no time and all before Tim is fully seated in him; his balls slapping Jason’s ass.

Jason’s got his head thrown back, now, the column of his throat pretty and exposed. Tim can’t resist leaning down, scraping his teeth over his adam’s apple before finding the spot where neck meets shoulder and sinking his teeth in.

He doesn’t draw blood, but he sure as hell leaves a bruise, worrying it with lips and teeth until he’s sure it will be a nice, lurid shade of purple by morning.

Jason’s moans, no longer stifled, are high and sweet. They’re softer than Tim might have expected. He adores them. He can’t help but kiss over Jason’s cheeks—smiling indulgently at the way Jason tips his face up to receive them.

He steadies his grip on Jason’s thigh. Rolls his hips, just to test—delights when Jason mewls, clenching tight-tight-tight around him in response. A fresh pair of tears roll down his cheeks, dripping into the puddle of drool on his neck.

Tim presses a little firmer on his tongue—and then he fucks him.

Not fast and punishing, although he knows Jason takes that beautifully, but slow and deep; rolling his hips in a way he knows will leave him a little sore tomorrow. It’s worth it for the way Jason responds. His cries are so beautiful—and each and every one of them is for Tim. Because of Tim.

All the praise he’d held back before tumbles from him now. “Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect. S-sound so pretty. Wanna keep you like this all the time, split open on my fingers, my cock. Nn—” Tim’s hips stutter as Jason clenches around him. His breath catches, too. “A-and— shit. You’re so— You’re gorgeous. J-just— All I wanna do is w-worship you.”

Jason’s cock is twitching. Precome drips onto his belly; pearly liquid beading on his hair, shining on his skin.

“U-unh.” Tim lifts his leg a little higher; angling his hips to thrust deeper, the head of his cock bumping right up against Jason’s prostate. Jason mewls again. His body is shaking. Tim can feel his own legs starting to tremble.

“F-f— Jason,” he gasps. “Baby. You’re so good for me. T-take me so well.”

He squeezes Jason’s thigh before letting go, slipping his hand under where their bodies meet. He waits until he bottoms out—and then he presses two fingers against Jason’s perineum.

Jason shouts. His hips buck, cock spasming as come paints his chest and belly. His walls clamp around Tim’s cock like a vice. Tim switches to short, shallow thrusts, fucking Jason through his orgasm. His own is close at hand—there’s a part of him that wants to pull out, stroke himself until he adds to the mess painting Jason’s body, but. He won’t. He’ll leave his claim deep inside Jason, the way he’s earned.

Jason loosens after a moment, but his walls are still spasming, like they’re milking Tim’s cock. It leaves him breathless.

“Nn— Jay— So beautiful,” Tim praises. Jason’s expression is one of utter bliss. Tim keeps fucking him—faster, now, using Jason’s body to chase his own pleasure. Jason makes encouraging noises beneath him; gripping Tim’s ass, pulling him forward, deeper, kneading the muscle with his fingers.

With that kind of attention, it doesn’t take long for Tim to spill, body bowing forward, Jason’s name on his lips.

His hips move shallowly, fucking Jason through the aftershocks. Come trickles out, onto the sheets—it makes Jason shiver, whine. Tim rubs his side soothingly, easing his legs off his shoulders and pulling out slowly. More come spills. The sight of his hole clenching just about does Tim in.

He swallows hard. Slips his thumb from Jason’s mouth. Jason whines at that too. So needy. Tim loves it.

“Shh-hh. I’m not going far, babe,” he reassures. He doesn’t, either; barely has the energy to shift over a few inches so he can collapse beside him. Jason snuggles into him immediately. Tim kisses his forehead, wrapping his arms around him. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“L’ve y’ too,” Jason mumbles, nuzzling into him.

Tim knows they can’t stay like that long. The mess will start to dry soon, and stick, and— He knows neither of them have any interest in waking up like that.

But for now… 

He closes his eyes and basks in the warmth of Jason beside him.

[kieran-granola]

for post-kinktober prompts—how do you feel about jaytim & a predator/prey dynamic? the particulars of that are in your hands, especially since you’ve yet to write a fic i didn’t enjoy <3

The sweat dripping from Tim’s hair stings his eyes with salt.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been running, but it’s been a while since he gave up on presentability. His lungs are burning. The ambient noise of the city has been swallowed by the beating of his heart in his ears. Every step he takes turns his body heavier and heavier, and he can tell that it won’t be long before it fails him altogether. He leaps from one building to the next on shaky legs, the taste of iron rich in his mouth—

A hard body collides into him mid-air.

His assailant plucks him out of the sky with an easy strength that reminds him of Kon. Tim tries to use their momentum to roll away when they land — to escape, not to fight, not this time, not when he's so obviously outmatched — but he fails. His head spins as he finds himself pinned to the rooftop on his belly, panting into the gravel with his arms twisted behind his back.

“Gotcha,” the Red Hood hums into his ear, the modulated voice coldly steady.

Tim’s heart quickens impossibly. Fuck. He’s been caught. There’s no way for him to free himself, not without breaking something. He should have left his pride behind and called Batman and Robin for help. He should have run for Cass's patrol route instead of trying to reach his Nest. He should have done anything but try to outrun the Hood on his home turf.

He hears a click and a hiss behind him, then the sound of Jason's helmet hitting the ground. He scrunches his eyes shut on instinct as Jason leans down to lick his cheek. His tongue is warm and wet. By contrast, the air feels freezing when it hits the trail of saliva on Tim's skin.

“You gave me a good chase, little bird," Jason praises. His luminescent eyes give the night an unsettling green glow. "It's going to make taking you all the more enjoyable."

"You can't do this," Tim tries. "You won't get away with it."

Jason laughs. "Yeah? Who's going to stop me?"

"Batman knows where I am. You know that."

Jason ties Tim's wrists together with the ease of practice. He finds the closure of Tim's suit without a hint of hesitation and pulls the zipper down far enough to expose his throat and the curve of one shoulder.

"And where are you? On your territory. Two blocks away from your own bed. Do you think he'll be worried when he sees that your tracker has stopped moving here?"

"There are cameras everywhere."

"Not in the Alley, there aren't."

Jason straddles Tim's thighs, his weight heavy and foreboding. Leather whispers behind Tim's back, then Jason's hands find his throat. They don't linger, but the threat of suffocation is enough for his pulse to spike… right before humiliation blooms in his stomach as he realizes that Jason is collaring him.

"You can't just—You can't just claim me like this. Let me go."

"Birdie, I caught you. I'll do whatever I damn well please."

The collar falls into place, its buckle burningly cool against Tim's nape. Tim's body goes pliant as a wave of submission crashes into him.

So this is it, then.

He lost.

Oh, of course, he could hurt himself. Thrash, bite, fight like a trapped wolf gnawing its own paw off. He could spit and scream, and hope for anyone to stumble on them. But he's so tired. His head goes fuzzy as the last dredges of adrenaline fail him, and he lets the buzz fill him from head to toe.

Jason hums in approval. Then, with a possessive growl, he sinks his teeth into Tim's exposed shoulder.

———

(Later, when they're done, the collar will come off. Jason will help Tim clean himself up, and massage his sore arms. He'll carry him to their shared bed and compensate for chasing him and fucking him to exhaustion by feeding him and holding him safe and sound.

He'll be kind, considerate, and tame. Nothing like the ruthless predator Tim asked him to be.

But Tim will remember the chase. He'll remember the fear, the exhilaration, and the rush of submission. He'll remember being owned, and helpless in all the ways he never dared to want.

And somewhere, deep down, he'll hope that his skin will hold the shape of Jason's teeth and remember it too.)

[disniq]

stop trying to get me to watch Titans 😭

I can't do it just for the Jason and Tim moments

stop trying to lure me in with posts ur so evil /j

LISTEN.

I am absolutely not recommending that you watch 4 full seasons of extremely questionable writing just for a hint of JayTim in the penultimate episode, *BUT*

I will recommend watching this 2 minute long scene of them flirting training

(Yes, I'm sorry, the show is always this dark and yes, the brainworms are terminal <3)

[anawrites3]

the result of my smutwriting for @zeroducks-2  💕

Jaytim drunk sex

Jason took in the sight in front of him, desperate to carve it into his mind so he'll remember it even after waking up tomorrow. He admired Tim's face flushed from the alcohol, his lips swollen and wet from kissing, those beautiful eyes glazed over from the pleasure and looking back at him with adoration. Then he slowly lowered his gaze, staring at Tim's neck full of marks he sucked onto the skin there, at the perk nipples he wanted to play with again, at the hard muscles of his stomach that were tense with effort it took for him to move up and down Jason's cock.

”You're so beautiful” he panted out and groaned when Tim tightened around him in answer. ”Fuck, Timmy-”

”Feel good?” Tim asked breathlessly, pleasure dripping off his voice like a honey. His lips curled into a little playful smirk as he moved his hips in a sinful way that made Jason moan loudly. If he was less drunk, he'd probably worry about someone hearing them, but right now he didn't give a single fuck.

Nothing else mattered, just Tim and the way he jumped on his dick like a porn star.

”Yes yes- you're doing such a great job, baby.”

Jason couldn't reach far with the way Tim had his arms trapped against the mattress - half to support his weight and half just to show Jason who really was in control right now - but it was still enough for him to reach towards the strong tights that squeezed his waist. They were adorned with teeth marks and hickeys he left there just a few moments ago, and Jason couldn't stop himself from tracing them over with his fingers, stroking and digging his nails into the skin to leave yet another reminder of this night, of himself.

He wanted to remember all of this, he wanted Tim to remember and he intended to leave as many marks as it was possible to ensure that their bodies won't be able to forget, even if they did after sobering up.

”Call me that again, Jason.” Tim demanded, leaning down enough for their lips to brush.

Now it was Jason's turn to smirk. ”Oh, did you like that, baby? Like being called pretty names?”

Tim whined against his lips, before finally pressing them together in a proper kiss. Jason didn't hesitate to slip his tongue inside, eager to taste him again, to feel the bitter hint of beer that started it all.

”Again.”

”Baby.” Jason breathed out without stopping the kiss. ”So beautiful, Timmy.”

Done with just laying down, he grabbed more firmly at Tim's tights and thrusted up, making Tim moan so loudly it sounded almost like a scream. Tim's nails dug into Jason's skin hard enough to draw blood but neither of them paid it any attention. If anything, Jason was just happy with yet another reminder of Tim on his body.

”Jason- fuck, Jay-”

”Such a good boy, taking all of me like that” Jason praised. He met every roll of Tim’s hips with his owns and made him moan in that breathy way that drove Jason absolutely fucking crazy. ”I can't believe we never done this before, fuck, I'm never letting you go, baby.”

Maybe when they'll wake up in the morning they'll regret it. Maybe they'll consider this whole night a mistake, the biggest one they've ever made. Maybe they'll be so ashamed of what happened that they won't be able to look each other in the eye. Maybe.

Right now, nothing else mattered more.

[yaderyngoch]

I made a comment a while ago about a JayTim Tailor AU, and then the brainworms wouldn't stop so now I've actually written it.

Disclaimer that I'm super new to the fandom so this is my first time writing for it, and I also written one little fanfic in the past 3 years for a different fandom so I am Rusty and they're probably very OOC lol.

--

Tailor’s shops, Tim had found, were rather soothing places. Quiet and smelling faintly of amber and cedar. His chosen shop was an octagonal room lined with built-in shelves and racks of suits and armoires of darkly stained mahogany. A table in the centre of the room housed a swatch book of different types of wool and lining silks that Tim liked to flip through just to feel the delicately woven fabrics.

On one side of the shop window, there was a mannequin dressed in a half-finished suit, one side left without the facing so onlookers could see the canvas and careful stitching that gave the suit its structure. On the other there was an old treadle sewing machine, though Tim doubted it was still functional. Nevertheless it helped add to the timeless sort of atmosphere of the shop, something that felt so far removed from all the computers and cold artificial displays Tim usually worked with.

He’d been coming to this tailor for a few years now. Bruce had recommended him, and Tim had been coming ever since. There was something calming about the familiarity. Coming in and greeting the salesman who recommended a few suits for him to try on, settling on one that he thought looked best before the salesperson called the tailor out to him. It was always the same tailor, an elderly man with small, quick hands and soft eyes by the name of Lucius Fox.

Tim waited for him now, dressed in a neat blue suit the salesperson had chosen off the rack for Tim. The shop did offer entirely bespoke suits, but Tim had always found that to be much more elaborate than he felt he needed. As long as he looked neat and presentable, it worked for him.

He flipped through that fabric swatch book, tracing fingertips along the pinked edges of soft blue wool and reading the sticker on the back of the previous swatch as though he had any idea what any of it meant. Camel hair, it said. Tim didn’t think the fur of a camel would be particularly soft or good for suitmaking but evidently he was wrong.

“Mr. Drake?” Called a voice from the door to the tailor’s workshop itself, a voice lower and smoother than Tim had been expecting.

Tim looked up to see a man walking towards him, tall and broad with a streak of white through dark hair, a ruler and chalk in one hand and a pincushion secured to the other wrist with a band of black elastic. He’d forgone the jacket of his three-piece suit, the sleeves of his dress shirt neatly rolled up to his elbows, a tape measure draped around his neck. The suit was fitted just enough to display a figure far sturdier than Tim would’ve expected for a tailor, just hints of a broad chest and arms that filled out the sleeves far better than most.

His face was just as chiselled, with sharp green eyes that seemed to shimmer with amusement, the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly.

It took Tim far too long to realise he’d been staring, and he quite quickly flicked his eyes back down to the book before him, feeling warmth rise on his cheeks. “Yes, that’s- uhm.” He cleared his throat. “That’s me.” He looked back up at the Tailor. “Sorry, I just was expecting someone… else.”

The Tailor smiled in something between understanding and amusement. “Yes, Mr. Fox is out for the week so he’s left me to handle the shop. I’ll be taking care of you today.” The blush rose higher on Tim’s cheeks, and if he didn’t know better he’d assume the Tailor was doing that on purpose, with that honeyed voice of his and those smoothly spoken words. “My name is Jason.”

“Tim,” he answered, picking at the band of his watch.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tim,” answered Jason, and Tim was almost irritated at how well such a simple and common name rolled off Jason’s tongue. Jason gestured towards the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror, a platform just a little bit above the ground that made fittings easier, evidently. “Stand up there and face the mirror,” said Jason, tone polite and professional despite the command.

Tim nodded, trying not to follow Jason’s order too quickly and trying even harder not to fidget. He’d gotten better at it over the years. At his first fitting, Mr. Fox had smacked him upside the head with a ruler and told him to sit still. Now though, he had a feeling he’d find it just as difficult to behave as he had back then.

Jason came to stand close behind Tim, and it was with another small amount of irritation that Tim noticed even atop the pedestal, Jason was still slightly taller than him. “Tell me a little more about how you like your suits to fit.” His voice was softer now that they stood closer together, a gentle sound rather close to Tim’s ear. Tim couldn’t tell if he could feel the body heat radiating off of Jason, or if it was his own body that was warming up.

“Well… I’m not really sure I have much of a preference. Mr. Fox just fixed whatever he thought looked bad.” Tim wasn’t particularly meticulous when it came to fashion.

Jason hummed in understanding, stepping back just slightly to sweep his eyes over Tim, analysing the way the suit fit him with a careful, sharp stare. “Well, Mr. Fox is very good at what he does, but between you and I? He's also ancient and tends to prefer older, boxier styles, which I don’t think particularly suit you.” Tim felt rather like a blank canvas, where Jason could see the vision of the finished piece and Tim couldn’t. “You have a much narrower waist than most of the men I see. I think you’d look far better in something that showed that off a little more.”

Tim tugged at the hem of the jacket, trying to see what it was that Jason saw, but as far as he was concerned a suit was a suit and as long as it fit he wasn’t sure the cut of it made much of a difference. It was something to wear to a formal event and want to take off as soon as he got home. As far as he knew, the one he had on already fit fairly well for the most part.

“Here, I’ll show you what I mean and you can see what you think,” Jason continued, stepping closer to Tim again, standing right behind him so that in the mirror he could see his own silhouette overshadowed by Jason’s. Jason stroked gentle fingers up Tim’s spine, a featherlight touch to smooth out the wrinkle at the base of his neck. Tim suppressed a shiver as Jason leaned in close to place a pin to mark where the extra fabric near the collar needed to be taken in.

“Generally, off the rack suits were designed to fit men with far worse posture than you,” Jason explained, moving on to pin the sides of the suit. He sounded… appreciative, nearly praising despite the aforementioned posture making more work for him.

Tim could definitely feel his body heat now, attention narrowed down to where he could feel the delicate brush of skilled fingers along his waist, sliding a pin through the fabric with ease and precision Tim wouldn’t have associated with larger, stronger hands, far less wrinkled than Mr. Fox.

Tim could feel the warmth of Jason’s breath, could see him leaning in close in the reflection of the mirror. Now that Jason wasn’t looking at Tim’s face, Tim couldn’t help but stare at Jason’s, at the piercing, intense gaze, careful and precise in his work. He was much younger than Tim assumed most tailors were, likely only a few years older than Tim himself.

Jason moved to the other side, momentarily placing a hand on Tim’s waist to pull away the fabric needed. Tim wondered what he was thinking, so focused and diligent, fingers so much more skilled than Tim would’ve expected. It was an art, really, and there was beauty in simply watching the way Jason worked, in feeling each gentle brush of fingertips along the fabric, light and delicate and telling of so much skill in those hands. Some part within Tim desperately wanted to ask for more, for a taste of what those feathery sweeping touches promised.

“How does that feel?” Tim snapped his eyes away from Jason’s face and back to his own reflection, reminded quite quickly that Jason was a professional only doing his job and Tim desperately needed to get it together. Jason was reminding Tim that he desperately needed a few things.

“Uh… what?” Tim asked, feeling suddenly rather silly and realising he hadn’t been paying any attention at all to any of the things he was supposed to be paying attention to.

Fortunately, instead of the irritation Tim had been expecting, Jason simply laughed, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “The suit. Does it feel too tight? Too loose?” Oh- right. That was why Tim was here.

He looked at his silhouette in the mirror again, this time actually looking at himself instead of at Jason, and found he quite immediately knew what Jason had been talking about before. More than just fitting him better, Tim felt like he looked more… like himself. Not someone putting on a costume to go play the character of some high-society heir. He looked… really good, and good in a way he hadn’t expected to see in himself.

“Well?” Jason asked, smirk tugging at his lips again. “You seem quite easy to leave speechless, but I would appreciate at least some feedback.”

“Oh- sorry. It feels good. Thank you,” Tim answered, looking back at Jason in time to see his satisfied smile.

“Good,” said Jason, stepping closer again. “Now for the sleeves, I think they’re a little long for you, hmm?”

Tim nodded, knowing at least that much needed to be fixed. The hem of the sleeve was barely above his knuckles. Jason leaned in, left shoulder brushing Tim’s right as he slid one hand past Tim’s hip, one hand on either side of Tim’s.

Tim’s breath hitched, trying to calm the way his heart raced at their proximity. He knew this was part of the fitting, that this was the easiest way for a tailor to roll up his sleeve. Mr. Fox had done it too, but when Jason touched him, it was… different. No- Jason was just doing his job. He was a professional, Tim shouldn’t be thinking these things.

Jason’s index finger brushed Tim’s palm as he started to roll the sleeve up, tucking the excess fabric inward so it looked more like what the finished product might be. He slid two fingers beneath the sleeve to help smooth out the folded edge, the backs of them brushing along the sensitive skin of Tim’s wrist. Tim would be surprised if Jason couldn’t feel his racing heartbeat like this, but if he did, he didn’t say anything of it, simply curling his fingers and bringing them down slightly to bring the sleeve down just a little.

“How’s that?” Jason asked, voice hardly above a whisper now that he was practically speaking in Tim’s ear, their faces only a few inches apart. He slid his fingers out of the sleeve, pulling away again so Tim could examine the length for himself.

“Yeah,” Tim answered breathlessly. “Yeah, I like that.” He realised now that Jason had pulled away, he very nearly felt cold. But at least the distance gave Tim room to catch his breath and chase away those creeping thoughts.

Then, Jason stepped in front of Tim, between him and the mirror, and Tim’s heart stuttered in his chest. Tim had nearly forgotten about how Tailors marked the second sleeve, and he was swiftly reminded when Jason dropped to his knees in front of him.

Tim immediately held his breath, staring directly forward and absolutely refusing to look down.

“You know, I can’t do this if you don’t relax,” Jason teased. It was then that Tim realised he’d balled his hands into fists, and then that he knew that Jason definitely knew what he was doing. He released the breath he’d been holding, unclenching his fists and relaxing his arms at his sides.

Jason hummed in satisfaction, and Tim felt that gentle brush of warm fingers against his own as Jason held the ruler up to measure the new length of the sleeve from the tip of his thumb, sliding a pin into place before repeating the process with the other sleeve. Tim was trying not to tremble, trying to ignore what he could see of Jason in his peripheral vision, trying not to wonder what it might be like if he used that tape measure for something other than its intended purpose.

Finally, Jason stood again, face so close to Tim’s that Tim could make out the different shades of green and blue in his eyes.

“Wonderful,” he said. “Now, if you’d please remove the jacket, it’s time to mark the pants.”

Tim was going to die in this tailor’s shop.

[aceofshitposts]

Have you considered... JayTim cabinfic? 👀 👀 👀

i'm considering it as we speak

-

It's supposed to go like this: Tim is working a case tracking down a corrupt politician. Said politician is also part of one of Jason's human trafficking cases.

Who is also taking a very convenient vacation into the mountain wilderness where he will be attending a conference.

Timothy Drake-Wayne will also be in attendance with his body guard.

They attend the conference, bust the human trafficking and are home before the holidays.

What it actually goes like is this: Tim and Jason arrive to the resort village where this is supposed to go down just in time for a freak blizzard to blow in, dropping the temperatures enough to rival a Mr Freeze incident.

The politician's flight is cancelled along with the conference, losing both Tim and Jason months of work.

Now they're stuck together in an overpriced two room cabin, being told the storm will blow over any day now.

That was three days ago.

Which would be fine, Tim has certainly been through worse except...

Well. He must have some kind of cabin fever from being stuck in such a small space with Jason because Jason keeps...

(This is the part of the story where is Tim was trying to retell this to the family Jason would helpfully interject with, "being nice? Attempting to hit you over the head with hints?" and Tim would turn beet red and tell him to shut up.)

They've barely argued the entire time, Jason insisted on making all the food (and thank god for all the food these rich resorts would stock the fridges with despite knowing most rich people would just end up eating at the various resort restaurants) and he keeps goddamn smiling at Tim.

Maybe they're both suffering from cabin fever, actually.

The power hasn't gone out yet at least; due to the underground electrical grid to "preserve" the view although every communication tower and wifi signal in the area is kaput. Which gives them plenty of opportunity to watch the ample DVD collection that Tim is half convinced is only there for aesthetic purposes.

There's everything anyone could ever want here from explosion heavy action movies, to comedy to the complete collection of Saw movies.

Somehow though, they've ended up steadily making their way through various romantic holiday movies.

"She reminds me of you," Jason says about the plucky, career oriented female lead who was currently oblivious to the male leads obvious flirting.

Tim snorts. "I'm not like that."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Jason mutters, frustration obvious even as he keeps his eyes trained on the screen. Plucky female lead throws the coffee cup with male lead's phone number written on it in the trash, never even noticing the number was there.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tim snarls, turning to sit sideways on the couch so he can round on Jason. Why would he be choosing now of all times to start picking a fight? Is this about something with the case? If it was why wouldn't Jason say anything sooner--

"How many times do I have to walk around shirtless after a shower or give you heart shaped pancakes for you to get it? We're sitting here watching romance movies."

What?

"I thought the pancakes were just a fluke?"

Jason barks out a laugh, head dropping to his hands.

"Once is a fluke, Tim, I made heart shaped pancakes three days in a row."

There really isn't anything Tim could possibly say to save face at this moment.

Unfortunately, neither his brain or mouth get that message and he says, "oh, shit."

They truly are both afflicted with cabin fever at this point because Jason starts laughing, gasping for air and shoulders shaking with his head still covered by his hands.

Tim hiccups once before he's laughing too, gripped by the absolute madness that is his life.

"You're an idiot," Tim says five minutes later through more hiccups.

"Me?! You're the one who wilfully ignored heart shaped pancakes!"

"Fine, we're both idiots. You" - Tim emphasizes this by reaching over to punch Jason in the shoulder - "could've just said something, though."

"So, you're saying I should have dyed the pancakes red?" Jason asks with a smirk that Tim wipes off his face by launching himself at Jason and kissing him.

[the-alice-of-hearts]

If you're still taking requests- if not please ignore this- can I plz request either 40 or 48 for Jaytim (Maybe with a hint of chubby jay-) ty for your time!

Okay, so I combined these because they work well together. also, I wrote more than expected... Hope you like it! (and I will always and forever be accepting requests) 40: exes meeting again after not speaking for years au 48: meeting again at a high school reunion au I also wasn't able to get the hint of chubby Jay in there, but know that I personally think he's built like a strongman competitor, so imagine him still jacked, but with that layer of fat that makes him the perfect shape for perfect hugs.

Jason walked off the stage to the sound of Bruce and Dick cheering for him, but his eyes were glued to Tim’s back. The genius had skipped two grades and graduated with Jason, and there he was talking to his best friend. Benard waved at Jason and Jason gave a fake smile that dropped from his face when Tim turned to look at him. The younger man quickly turned away, but Jason could see the hurt in his eyes. He had done that, but he couldn’t regret it, not when they had both worked so hard to get where they were going. Jason was going across the country to study creative writing and stage management at CalArts and Tim was headed to MIT for medical engineering, and Jason couldn’t hold him back. Tim needed this, he needed to focus and get through the hardest degree program he could possibly choose, and Jason wasn’t about to have any free time either. College was going to be murder, and no matter how much Jason wished that he could stay with Tim, they just couldn’t risk the heartbreak. He couldn’t risk the heartbreak… 

---

“You sure about this?” Artemis asked. “There’s nothing that says you have to go to your high school reunion.” 

“Yeah, not like I went to mine.” Roy laughed. 

Jason shook his head and kept packing. “You both are terrible influences. They want me to give a speech, I kinda feel like I have to.” 

“I thought that you were going in hopes of seeing your high school beloved.” Kori pointed out and Jason winced.

“What?” Roy flipped over and stared at Jason. “You think he’ll be there?” 

Jason shrugged. “Maybe? It’s not out of the question at least.” 

“This the guys you’re head over heels for?” Artemis asked. 

“Okay! Everyone is about to be kicked out of my production if we don’t stop!” Jason slammed his suitcase shut. “No, I don’t know if he’ll be there, yea I hope he will, no I didn’t write my speech about missed opportunities because of him, that’s the prompt that was given to me by the committee.” 

“Good luck my friend,” Kori whispered in his ear as she hugged him tight. 

“Make sure someone records you, I wanna see the speech later!” Roy smirked at him. 

“I leave for the airport after practice. So let’s go please.” Jason started leading his idiot friends out the door. 

---

Jason stepped up to the podium and smiled. “Well, we made it.” His former classmates who showed up laughed softly. “Look, you all got enough speeches out of me in high school, so I’m gonna make this short and sweet.” 

He took a deep breath and then stilled. Tim was standing there staring up at him, and he looked just as beautiful as the last time that Jason saw him. 

Jason cleared his throat. “So, as some of you may know, I am now a big fancy stage director of a theater here in Gotham. Shocker I know.” He paused for the light laughter before continuing. “There’s something huge about getting to do the thing that I wanted to do so badly all through school, but there’s something to be said about missed opportunities. I know, it’s not really the thing most people talk about, but I know that each and every one of us sits at home at least once a week and thinks about something that we regret not going for. Not quitting a dead-end job, not applying for something we know we could have gone for, saying no to an opportunity, saying goodbye to someone you loved.” He glanced at Tim who was still listening. “There are so many moments of regret that we can be filled with, so here’s my advice to you. Think about your missed opportunities, look at each of the ones you can change, and go for them. I know, not that much of a speech, but I mean it, go ahead and take the chance. Thank you all, and as a reminder, it’s an open bar, so drink up!” He held up his glass in a toast to the room. 

Jason wandered away from the stage accepting congratulations from his former classmates and trying to make his way to where he last saw Tim. 

“Jason!” Brad called out to him and Jason went over. 

“Good to see you man, what are you doing now a days?” Jason asked. 

“Well, I married Ashley and we have a kid on the way, I’m actually working at your old man’s company now.” Brad motioned toward one of the tables where his now wife was sitting and talking to some of the other women at the reunion. “How are you man?” 

“Livin the dream,” Jason laughed. “Just making it through.”

“Oh! That’s Bernie, I better go say hi.” Brad said his goodbyes and rushed off.

Jason continued in the direction where Tim was but by the time he made it through the crowd he was gone. 

A voice that Jason was worried he would only hear in his dreams came from behind him. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.” 

Jason turned around and saw Tim standing there. He licked his lips and took a step closer to Tim. “There’s nothing more that I want.” 

“I saw your last show, the production of Newsies was amazing.” Tim commented. 

“I didn’t know you were in town.” Jason couldn’t help himself, he took another step toward Tim. 

“I was visiting friends.” Tim smiled. “When I saw the article about you being the stage manager I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to get close to your passion again.” 

“Oh, where are you living now?” Jason asked, he couldn’t uproot himself, but maybe Tim wouldn’t be too far away. 

Tim’s eyes lit up like he was about to tell Jason a big secret. “I just finished up a big project in Texas, so now I’m moving back to Gotham. I knew I couldn’t leave the city forever, but I needed to have my foot in the door first. I signed my new lease last monday.” 

“You’re back?” Jason whispered. 

“Gotham is my home, where would I be without her?” Tim responded. “So, do I get to know what regret you’re gonna try to change?” 

Jason nodded. “Tim, if you’ll have me, I would love to take you on a date, and maybe many more after that. I never stopped loving you, and breaking things off just because we were going to live on opposite sides of the country was the most idiotic thing I have ever done. Please, let me try to make things right.” 

Tim leaned in and pulled Jason forward by his lapels. “Kiss me, and it’s a date.”

[archtroop]

Re: @ my post of Titans!Jason as Red Hood spinoff and fic material, I gotta put out there all the shipping and team up brainrot this setup can sustain. I'll devide those posts for my own sake.

Literally, Tim. S4E11 had Jason's closure and Tim's beginning as Robin. He gets his suit and his first assignment (a gauntlet!). They are very cute together, Tim is eager to learn, and Robin is his dream. Jason passes him the mantle and teaches him a few lessons. Their back and forth is fun and playful, but also there is a hint of a deeper mutual understanding: Tim understands that this person in front of him is not 100% back on track. Jason is a very damaged individual and has many demons. On the other hand, Jason sees Tim's tenacity and will and writes him down as worthy. All in all, great potential, if I ever found jaytim compelling, it's in this setting. Jason is slightly older and oh so disillusioned. Tim is slightly younger and very optimistic and eager. Tim is established as either bi or gay in this universe (I'm guessing they were going for bi to support comics, but both still fit in here. As fate would have it, all characters have a queer flavor anyway, and Gotham has zero straight ppl as is, so there). Tim mainly (solely?) trains under Dick. Whenever he comes to Gotham, does he fly alongside Batman? How does Red Hood fits here? Robin seen with Red Hood???

Both Tim and Jason are Gothamites to the core, born and raised. Jason's past being on the extreme side of the scale, Tim's being much more nurturing but in close proximity to Jason's upbringing even if only geographically. They have Gotham as their stage, past, present, and future.

Great potential overall.

Conclusion: Titans JayTim has a solid basis. It's sweet but also has a nice flavor of angst to it, but can go in a very optimistic direction.

[if-not-gay-why-sexual-tension]

My Lazarus Pit Headcannons

Since I'm working on a project in which gold ol' Timmy boy just a dunk in the green kool-aid, I figured I should just establish some rules.... mostly for myself to look back on for continuities sake....

The Pit doesn't just make you rageful, in fact that only on of the possible outcomes. In my universe, it enhanced your more negative traits instead of just making you go feral

In Jason's case it was his rage and jealousy/possessiveness over what he feels is his. And he's a special case in my universe because he came back from the dead on his own before the pit.

In Ra's I decided that his power lust and greed would be the traits that the pit latches on to. Sure he was a leader before his discovered what it could do, but afterwards he wanted everything.

And for poor Tim, I chose Apathy, because one; I had this great idea for a piece of dialogue to go like "The Pit might've made you angry, but do you know what it made me? Cold." and two; it'd by a great tragedy for Tim because he's worked so hard to care for people. Also I can't resist a fire/ice ship dynamic. ;)

But to be clear, there is a sort of feralness that comes with the pit, but it's more an enhanced fight or flight thing. The pit can take over in survival situations or when adrenaline is high (like the mom picking up a car to save her baby), and give the user enhanced abilities. But the pit is focused on keeping whatever thing touched it all, and that overrides any moral dilemmas.

So yeah if you couldn't tell, this story is going to be post Red Robin, maybe with a hint of Joker Jr. and a whole lot of JayTim. I think a new force is going to show up in Gotham and offer to team up with Hood to take down Bruce and it'll be really angsty. Stay Tuned!!

[chibinightowl]

Tagged by @the-rebellious-one

Rule: Post the first line of your current WIP.

I have way too many WIPs, but here are some snippets for JayTim Week! I'll tag @glaciya, @themandylion, @bionerd2point0, @aceofshitposts, and @bumpkin-is, along with anyone else who cares to share!

~

“Oh, for the love of god,” Lord Jason Wayne cursed, frowning like a thundercloud as distant hoofbeats echoed in his ears.

~

“You need a break.” Jason’s long fins lash from side to side in the water, his green gaze intent on the tablet in Tim’s hands.

~

Popcorn. Grease. Fry bread. Roasting meat. In the background, a faint hint of manure. The late afternoon air is awash with scents that spell out one thing and one thing only. 

~

“Hey, Tim. I got a massive favor to ask.”

[ladytauria]

45 for the wip ask game?

(jaytim) the sweetness of honey, tim’s pov

what it says on the tin more or less lol; tim’s pov of the events of sweetness of honey! i have 3 and a half chapters done.

have a snippet from their first meeting <3

please forgive my brackets, lmao.

The pup’s hold on his scent loosens. The acrid scent of fear nearly drowns the rest of it out, but… Tim is able to catch a hint of something. A spiced sweetness that makes his mouth water, his fingers twitch.

“Where did you find him?” he asks.

At the sound of his voice, the boy’s shoulders loosen, his growl quieting. Perhaps it’s not related. But… Tim finds that he wants to keep talking. To see if the pup will relax further, if that fear will fade so Tim can pull him close and scent him properly.

He resists the urge—the same way he bites back a growl when [Sleazeboss] reaches over and pets the boy’s hair, proprietary and possessive.

The pup’s growl starts up again. He twitches, as if to pull away—but the guard pulls his leash tight, forcing him to stay still.

Tim curls his fists tighter.

“Crime Alley. Can you believe we caught the bitch trying to do his own bidding?”

The boy isn’t skilled enough at hiding his reactions to stop the shame from filling his expression or his scent. Tim swallows another growl. How desperate must he have been, to offer up such vulnerability? And rather than offer him safety, these men took advantage of him. Snatched him up, and now—

Now they want to offer him up to him.

“How fortunate,” he murmurs.

They won’t live long enough to regret it.

[Sleazeboss] grips the boy’s hair, roughly yanking his head back. He leans forward, rucking the boy’s shirt up to his neck. Tears glimmer in the boy’s eyes. One rolls down his cheek; shining slightly in the light.

The boy’s breasts are small. They would fit perfectly in his palms—Tim can feel to me now, soft and warm and plush in his hands.

Tim suppresses a shudder. He drags his gaze down to the boy’s navel.

A bruise, purple but fading, colors his side. Tim has had his fair share of bruises; this one looks tender and painful. It stokes the fire of his anger—and Tim lets it. Gladly embraces the feeling, if only so he doesn’t have to think about the way his mouth waters, his fingers itch, the way he wants to kiss the boy’s tears away.

[Sleazeboss] cups one of his breasts. His grip is none-too-gentle, and the boy flinches—the guard keeps him still.

“As you can see, he’s still quite… underdeveloped.” [Sleazeboss]’s tone makes Tim feel dirty—like he needs a very long, a very hot shower. “With him being so close to presentation, we haven’t had time to train him up yet, but—” Tim makes himself look away, look at the man and his wide, terrible grin, “—you strike me as a man who enjoys getting to take a bitch down a peg or two, am I right?”

Tim resists a snort.

Not in the way [Sleazeboss] thinks.

[Sleazeboss] lets go of the boy, his shirt falling back to cover his torso. The boy slumps forward. His shoulders shake. More tears roll down his face; his sobs silent, but no less heart wrenching.

Tim can’t stop himself from reaching out this time. Two fingers, curving under his jaw, tipping his head back. The boy’s eyes open, meeting his through a glassy sheen of tears. His lashes flutter. And then—

He leans into Tim’s touch.

Tim’s breath catches. There’s something—pleading in his eyes. Tim is helpless to resist it. He slips his fingers lower, hooking them into the collar. He doesn’t even have to tug. The boy moves, climbing onto the couch cushion beside him. The guard passes Tim his leash as he does. He holds it loosely.

Tim guides his head back, exposing his delicate, slender throat. The collar blocks his scent glands, but—it’s no matter. He tucks his nose right at the edge of it, the tip brushing the boy’s skin.

Spicy-sweet, like cloves and honey, and still a bit milky. A pup, but not quite as young as he looks.

Tim breathes in deeply, savoring it. It’s…

He yearns, almost too much to hate himself for it. The boy shudders, a soft noise leaving his mouth, muffled by the muzzle. His scent— Some of the terror is edged away, by something Tim cannot quite place.

He pulls back, letting the boy’s head fall back where it was. His expression is—dazed, almost, like Tim had licked him, and not just scented.

It’s… cute. Sweet.

Tim wants to do it again.

“Well, would you look at that.” [Sleazeboss]’s voice drips with something smug and excited that makes Tim want to snarl. “He’s given my men nothing but trouble, and now he’s docile as a lamb. You’ve a master’s touch.”

Ugh. Tim’s desire for a shower grows stronger. He reluctantly turns to the omega to look at him coolly. “I find,” he says with a hum, “when it comes to omegas, they simply have to be handled the right way.”

Like they’re people, preferably.

[ wip ask game ]

[kieran-granola]

Find a Word WIP game

I was tagged ages ago by @setsailslash, and sort of... forgot. So uh, sorry about that 😂 Here is what comes up for your words!

Apron [JayTim, Minute Maid, aka Maid Costume Kink]

Jason looks beautiful. His skirt flares out around his wide hips, buoyed by his petticoat. The tied apron makes his waist look impossibly trim, and the star-shaped ribbon detailing over his collarbones accentuates the fullness of his chest under the blouse-like top. His skirt lifts up behind him when he bends down to secure his thigh-highs, and Tim nearly passes out. Fuck. He wants to disappear under Jason's petticoat to lick him open. He wants to raw him over the couch. He wants to see him on his knees worshiping his cock, and he wants to wrap his legs around soft silks while Jason pounds into him. He wants anything and everything and— Jason lets out a disgusted noise as he inspects himself. "Right. Well I won't be winning any beauty contests but it'll do I guess. Let's get this over with." He flips off the hidden camera in the ceiling before straightening up and bowing his head. "How can I serve you today, Master?"

Hands [JayTim, Show Your Pain, aka Fae Blessings gone wrong]

Jason's mouth falls open in horror. The cigarette falls out of his hand as he rushes to catch Tim. He lifts him without hesitation and drags him inside the Nest, taking cover away from the windows as he moves to patch Tim's throat closed. "What the fuck, who did this?" he asks, and Tim doesn't quite understand why there's so much fear in his eyes all of a sudden. "Y-you," Tim gurgles through the pain. "What?" Jason's hands are moving fast, through field stitches and bandages, and Tim can't help but look at him. He looks beautiful, all sharp angles bathed in moonlight and unwavering focus. Tim smiles in amusement. All in all, it's not the worst view he could have died to.

Soft [JayTim, Sun's Out, aka Omega/Omega feat Jason in a dress]

Tim is pretty sure that it's bad form for him to be soaking wet in his shorts at the Wayne pack picnic, but he can't bring himself to care. Jason is here. Jason is wearing a dress. And Tim…  Tim is so very queer. In his defense, the way Jason's dress hugs his body is obscene. The white, gauzy material emphasizes the fullness of his breasts and the breadth of his hips. It turns his silhouette into a haven of soft, sun-kissed curves that make Tim's teeth hurt with the need to bite. Not to mention the lacey bra that peeks out of his split neckline whenever he bends down. Hell, for one heart-stopping second, Tim can even see a hint of matching panties when Jason's skirt flutters in the breeze. 

Cock [SladeJay, Secure the Back, aka Non-Con Underage AOB Awfulness]

Slade has to admit that he didn't think the new Robin would be this tight. He knew he'd be snug — kid that size, there was no way he'd be loose. Still, he thought Grayson and Wayne would have trained him better. As it is, fitting his cock in the tiny split of the second Robin's body is much harder than he expected, even with the kid dripping slick in his induced heat-fever.  In all fairness, the breeding bench probably doesn't make things easier on his body, but Slade has earned the right to indulge. Kidnapping an omega from under the nose of two possessive alpha Bats wasn't exactly a walk in the park, after all.

I am tagging @themandylion, @ladytauria, @chibinightowl, and anyone who wants to participate with the words cat, sleep, wet, and magic!

[disniq]

Hey, happy new year! Do you ship Jaytim? If you do, what about "Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you...?"

If you don't, backup plan is Brujay with "What happened doesn't change anything."

I'm so sorry this took me literally six months xD I hope you like it!

(BruJay, M, angst)

When Bruce wakes, the sheets are still warm.

The room has a tell-tale chill to it, though. The gentle swishing sound of the curtains shuffling in the breeze and the hint of menthol cigarettes on the air tells him before he sits up that the balcony doors will be open.

He reaches for his robe and finds it missing.

Maybe he needs to be naked for this. Exposed.

Everything between them finally laid bare.

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