Could I have number 47 for the pairing Jaytim, please? If not, have a wonderful day!
@deepwithintheabyss
i hope smut is okay <3
bodyguard au, with jason being involved with the martha wayne foundation & tim working as his bodyguard. is tim a vigilante undercover? is being a bodyguard his actual job? is this a no capes au? reverse robins? alternate canon, where jason didn't die? i dunno, this is just what came out when i started writing ^^;
anyway! i hope you enjoy <3
edit: some sentence structure things i didn't pick up on before. funny the things you notice after you hit post <3
“No one needs to know,” Tim murmurs, breath ghosting over the shell of Jason’s ear. The resulting shiver rolls down his spine to his toes, where they curl in his shoes.
“I thought— I thought you were supposed to be keeping me out of trouble,” Jason manages, in a voice that stays mostly even, and only a little breathy. He doesn’t pull away from Tim, though; not even when those long, clever fingers start untucking Jason’s shirt.
“I’m supposed to be keeping you out of danger,” Tim corrects. “A little trouble is good for you, now and then.” His hands are hot on Jason’s hips, walking him backwards.
Jason doesn’t resist. “You’re a bad influence,” he accuses. “I— I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Dad had in mind, when he hired you.” His knees hit his office chair. He sits.
"Maybe not," Tim says—and sinks to his knees. Jason is scarcely able to breathe. Like he can tell, Tim smiles up at him; something almost predatory in the curve of his mouth. "Call it a bonus, just for you." He pops the button on Jason's slacks.
Jason’s face is hot. The office is hardly the place for this—especially not when Jason has a meeting in an hour. But… It doesn’t even cross his mind to refuse. Not when Tim is looking at him like he wants to devour him. “S-sweet of you,” he manages.
“I’m a real gentleman,” Tim agrees, lips quirking. He eases Jason out of his slacks and boxers. Cool air brushes his dick, already flushed and half-hard, making Jason shudder—a whine following when Tim’s eyes darken, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Jason’s thighs are trembling.
Ice blue eyes dart up to meet his as Tim begins to roll up his sleeves. “Lock the doors, Jay,” he says. “We wouldn’t want anyone coming in and seeing you like this, would we?”
The noise Jason makes is strangled. His cock twitches. He has to be red down to his neck, at least. He fumbles for the button on his desk, hitting it clumsily.
Tim doesn’t tease—verbally, at least. Instead, he wraps his hand around Jason's cock; bending his head to lap at the head like a kitten
The sight of him is one of the hottest things Jason's ever seen. His breaths turn shallow; fingers digging into the armrests.
Tim looks up at him—meeting his gaze with his mouth on Jason’s cock. He almost whimpers. “I love the way you taste,” Tim murmurs. There’s nothing Jason can do to stop the shudder that rolls through him, nor the way his teeth sink into his lip.
Fuck. The things Tim does to him.
Tim skims his lips and tongue over Jason’s cock, lavishing it with attention while Jason does his best not to squirm. It’s hard. Tim knows exactly how to drive him wild, and exploits that knowledge ruthlessly, leaving Jason putty in his hands.
Tim hums, pleased as Jason's cock finishes hardening. He kisses the underside, just above his thumb—and then drags his tongue up to the head, drawing a stuttery moan from Jason. The chair creaks under his grip. Tim glances up at him, lust-dark eyes glittering with amusement. Then he closes his lips around the head of Jason’s cock and sucks.
“A-ah!” Jason throws his head back. “F-fuck, Tim,” he whines. Arousal thrums in his veins.
Tim swirls his tongue and bobs his head, taking more of Jason in his mouth. His hand moves in short jerks, squeezing and slackening like the fluttering of walls around him.
Jason throws his head back, forearm braced over his mouth to muffle the way he moans, embarrassingly loud in the quiet room.
Tim keeps going; enveloping more and more of him with the wet heat of his mouth. Jason can’t help but move, now, little twists of his hips that make the chair squeak beneath him. His breaths come in sharp, rough pants now; broken only by small hitched moans and whimpers. He tangles his hand in Tim's hair, silk strands winding around his fingers. Tim makes soft noises of his own; appreciative hums that make Jason's toes curl.
Finally, his mouth meets his fist, both of them working in tandem; sending wave after wave of pleasure rolling through Jason's veins.
Then—Tim lets go of him, and swallows Jason’s cock.
Only the steady hands on his hips keep him from bucking up into Tim's mouth. His mind is spinning; brain leaking out of his ears—or maybe just his dick. Tim's throat works; the muscles squeezing Jason's cock. He moans, low and deep, pressing his arm harder against his face.
Eventually, Tim has to pull off, panting a little as he goes back to those little kitten licks—coupled now with gentle sucks to the most prominent veins, and the underside of his glans. He works a hand into Jason's boxers, palming his balls and giving them a light squeeze.
Jason whimpers. “T-Tim—”
Just as Jason gets used to the feeling of Tim's lips and tongue, Tim swallows him down again. This time, he does— something with his tongue or the muscles in his throat that has Jason seeing stars. His belly is tight. His skin tingles. He feels a hair's breadth from exploding.
Two fingers press on his perineum as Tim swallows around him.
Jason lets out a strangled cry. "C-close," he manages, hand tightening in Tim's hair.
Tim hums, making Jason's toes curl. Then he eases off until Jason's cock is resting on his tongue. He tightens his lips and sucks, pressing on Jason's perineum at the same time.
Jason shoves two knuckles in his mouth, biting hard to strangle his shout. His thighs clamp tight around Tim, hips jerking upward; stopped only by the hand still holding him down. Tim works him through the orgasm with lips and tongue; the gentleness bliss up until it isn’t, until everything is too much.
He pushes weakly at Tim's shoulder, and Tim goes. A little bit of come dribbles out of his mouth. Jason whimpers when Tim’s tongue flicks out, catching it before it can fall off of his chin and stain his well-fitted suit.
Tim settles back onto his heels, looking pleased—with himself, but also with Jason, which has his stomach doing flips. "There we go," Tim rasps. He tucks Jason back into his slacks with exceeding gentleness, and fixes his fly before rising to his feet. "C'mon. You'll be more comfortable on the couch," he says, offering Jason his hand.
It takes Jason a second to muster the energy to move, but when he does, he lets Tim pull him to his feet and then to the sofa Jason keeps in his office. It’s mostly for Dick and Steph, both of whom like to drop in on him and hang out—and sometimes nap, in Dick’s case. But—sometimes Jason uses it too, like now, with Tim sitting down and pulling Jason after him, adjusting until Jason is lying against his chest, legs curled up beside him.
He’d grabbed Jason’s thermos on the way over. He opens it, the scent of one of Jason's favorite tea blends filling the air. Tim takes a drink, humming appreciatively before offering it to Jason. Sometimes Jason forgets Tim likes tea—though he thinks he can be forgiven, the way the man mainlines coffee.
“I didn’t, um— What about you?” Jason asks, when he lowers the thermos from his mouth. Tim is still tenting his pants.
“Later,” Tim says, still hoarse but not as bad as before. He cards his fingers through Jason’s hair. “You should rest.”
Jason’s mouth twists, even as his body betrays him; slumping more fully against Tim’s warmth. “The meeting—”
“You’ve got time,” Tim cuts him off. “We can go over your notes together in a few.”
Jason huffs, but lets himself melt into Tim’s touch. “Bad influence,” he mutters, just to keep from going quietly.
“Best influence,” Tim counters, sounding amused. “You needed to relax.”
Jason makes a face. Tim’s probably right, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it. “Quiet, m’resting.”
He feels more than hears the quiet laugh he gets in response. Tim lets him have the last word. Jason is sure, somehow, he’ll find a way to be smug later, though. Tim’s annoying like that.
Jason isn’t used to being careful. He doesn’t usually have to be; the wolf can recover from anything but silver, and only the old hats like Cobblepot (and Deathstroke) have ancestral weapons for fending off lycanthropes. So when the needle pierces his skin, he rips the dart out without a second thought. He expects the nausea brought on by whatever they tried to tranq him with to peter out within seconds.
It doesn’t.
It spreads, pervasive and slow, wreathing his limbs in lethargy and he stumbles. He hits the ground with a gasp, and Tim calls out to him as a familiar, aching pain flashes deep in his gut. In his bones. His teeth are growing too big for his mouth.
“Hood!”
Jason breathes in through his nose, reedy and thin. Claws burst through the tips of his gloves as bullets whiz past his head. He wrenches his head up, dizzy, and stares at the crescent moon in disbelief.
This can’t be happening. The moon isn’t full. He’s looking at it now. It’s a pale sliver, barely reflecting the sun’s light, weak and impotent through Gotham’s smog. It’s not full.
He’s changing anyway.
Tim is at his side, urging him up with one of Jason’s arms over his shoulders. They stumble away from the fight, leaving Nightwing and Robin to cover their retreat. Jason cries out as his muscles seize and tendons snap, fur bursting in itchy waves over the skin beneath his body armor. They don’t get far before Jason collapses.
“Red,” he gasps, mangling the codename with his incisors, and he wants to cry. He might be; his vision is blurring, and bloody at the edges. “Get… get away. You have to—”
“No. I’m staying with you.”
“Red—”
“I’ve got you,” Tim insists fiercely, and Jason rakes his eyes over his face, memorizing him while he can. “It’s okay. You’re not going to hurt me. You’re not going to hurt anyone.” As the pain crescendos, Jason wants desperately to believe him.
@imaginationcenter replied to your post “i know i've said this before but man writing for...”:
Can you send me a link to your futurama fanfic?
sure! you can find it here on my ao3 > https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karkachu (where you can also find my homestuck, dr who, and other stuff; ignore my pony stuff bc either it's already on fimfiction or its TEL which i gave up on uploading after chapter 3 lmao)
and also, for future ref, I'm mostly blogging about it on my leeler futurama tumblr @leelersupremacy
Tbh they went hand in hand with me? Lexana was never a separate thing from Clana (or the Clark-Lex... Thing, which very much involved Clark-Lana-Lex). Like it's just not something I see as independent from Clana? It drinks from it and feeds back into it.
So I guess the answer is Clana lol. But I can't see them as "rival" ships even if I wouldn't be surprised if you told me there were shipwars during the show's time (I didn't see them but that might be because Chlark-related drama drowned everything else lmao).
SEND ME TWO SHIPS AND I'LL TELL YOU WHICH ONE I PREFER
Admittedly I'm not excesively familiar with other versions of Clana but... Clois is THEE Clois. I do like Smallville's Clois, but it's not THEE Clois, not for me -Clana is too obviously the showtp there, and it really *pops*
SEND ME TWO SHIPS AND I'LL TELL YOU WHICH ONE I PREFER
I like Jaysteph! Always has. It was probably the first Jason ship I read, back before the reboot/around the time it had started (but with the fic still set in new earth), and I liked how the fandom did it. It's not like, a huuuuge otp but I vibe with it. They have potential. One day I'll probably write a fic about them (rn I do have ideas that involve focus on their dynamic, but none of them lend themselves to shippiness between them, woe is me. At least not for now).
Meanwhile, I don't see DickTim with romantic goggles at all tbh; unlike Jaytim I do see them as brothers [1], and I'm almost never inclined to ship fanon incest/pseudo incest (or even able to perceive it lol), unless like, the freudian reading is Very Much There and done in a way that's particularly enjoyable to me. Which simply isn't the case with DickTim (plus I do tend to go for f/f and f/m, both in general and with this). Though I will say I do headcanon Dick was Tim's proto-crush lol, which he probably realised when the "oh yeah I'm bi" moment came and proceeded to tell absolutely no one [2] because. Aaaaaawkward.
[1] my brain immediately went "how do I know Jason and Tim aren't brothers? Because Dick and Tim are" lmao. They claimed each other!! And that had nothing to do with Bruce's inconsistent adoption tendencies!! (IIRC neither of them had even been adopted by then).
[2] this doesn't necessarily mean no one knows. It probably wasn't a subtle proto-crush.
SEND ME TWO SHIPS AND I'LL TELL YOU WHICH ONE I PREFER
Since your fine with batcest, I just wanted to ask what your opinion on the ships DickTim and CassJay are?
For DickTim, I like the ship! While it isn’t my favorite or on my top-liked batcest ships, I still ship it <3
I was thinking about CassJay for a little bit, and I don’t really have an opinion on the ship. I don’t dislike it but I don’t love it either. However, I sorta ship it though.. just a little.
For a Jaytim art idea, I have one that takes place in a universe where during the battle of the Cowl Tim agreed to be Jason's Robin, thus Jason and Tim have become the new Batman and Robin. For this AU, could you potentially draw a scenario where Jason is making out with his Robin Tim while they are on patrol?
YEAH gimme a day or two I usually draw at work like a responsible employee and my shift is almost over (and my ipad battery is suffering since I wrote and drew shit today), so I’ll work on it tomorrow!!!!!
