#saltwaterwrites

dicktim | rated E | dubious consent

“I’m not gonna make you sit through the birds and the bees, relax,” he patted the comforter beside him, “just about—safety.” “Safety,” Tim repeated as he folded himself up on the bed. The belt’s excess slipped out of the last loop and flopped around.  “Can I have my belt back?” It pained him to see it leave his baby bird’s hips, but he filed away the speed at which Tim obeyed even a polite question. “Now, you should know the dangers of strangulation. Erotic asphyxiation carries the same risks, if you don’t do it right.” Tim blinked at him. “Wh…where is this going?” Dick looped the belt over Tim’s head. “May I?”

I kept telling myself I'd reply to this when I wrote it but I DIDN'T so the premise that comes to mind here is Reverse Robins 😌

Dick and Jason finally hook up. It sends him into a nesting frenzy, which Jason foolishly tries to remedy by bringing along a pup who isn't a pup at all anymore.

hehe hiii yes <3 there's a whole angle to this one about how dick indulges in his desire to be with tim by utilizing the fantasy that caroline is actually a different person...which is very normal and healthy of course

Tim's got hormonal problems, so his rut is really more like Horny PMS Time, and Jason never fully matured because of his death (and maybe because of the pit, or his lifestyle between those events, etc.). What starts in a territorial confrontation over Tim's rut scent ends in them roleplaying their respective fantasies--Tim as an omega capable of carrying a litter, and Jason as an alpha providing him with pups. They still have some hiccups wrt their alpha instincts, and wanting to treat one another as rival alphas in rut and/or omega mates <3 but they figure it out under the cut~

He followed Tim up to his bedroom, mouth stuffed full of mushy goodness and eyes glued to the way Tim’s silk shorts rode up his inner thighs. For his part, he had changed into civvies, a mostly bloodstain-free white tank and jeans. Sweatpants had been tempting, but Tim made him want to wear something akin to real clothes.

They ended up on the bed, Jason’s plate clean and Tim perched on his lap like he was made to be there. The silk was soft under his calloused fingertips, almost like it wasn’t there at all. “How was your night? You’ve been quiet,” Tim said.

“Busy.” He caught himself tightening his grip on Tim’s thighs and forced his hands to relax. “Met with Roman.”

“Sionis?”

“The same.” Tim swallowed, but he couldn’t gauge much else about his thoughts. “I couldn’t stand knowing he’d done that to you. Hurt you. No consequences. I had to do something.”

Tim was very, very still.

“I killed him, baby bird. I tortured him, and then I killed him. Do you want me to go?”

He swallowed again, twitching back into hesitant motion. His eyes were fixed on Jason’s. “W—what…how did you do it? How’d you…kill him?”

“You really wanna know?”

He nodded.

“In the end, all I did was break his neck.” It felt like they were two animals, circling, claws raised, but never striking. “I couldn’t let him walk away. I’m not sorry. It was for you. To protect you. So you never have to wake up knowing he’s still out there.” It was for him, too, maybe more so than Tim, and that was the unfortunate truth.

“I, um,” Tim shifted in his lap, “what else? You tortured him?”

He ran a hand down to Tim’s knee, squeezing gently. “You want a confession? Gonna tell all this to a better bat?”

jaytim + dicktim | warning: noncon | omegaverse, mpreg | 5.8k

Tim sprinted down the hall. His heat made him feel sluggish, disoriented, even though he was certain he could still run as fast as ever, it just hurt. His abdomen cramped up until he had to duck into a closet to catch his breath, hand over his mouth to muffle it.

“I can still smell you,” Jason called. The tone of his voice made Tim shudder and gush slick. He sounded like a predator. And he wanted to destroy Tim, punish him for ever taking on the Robin mantle. He was fucking terrified, and his heat-sick body was begging for a strong alpha to hold it down and—

No. He wouldn't let that happen.

The floorboards creaked outside. Tim readied a batarang. Jason threw open the doors, and Tim stabbed him between the ribs. 

“Robin!” he roared, grabbing him by his collar and throwing him into the hall. Tim was up and scrambling for the medbay in a second. Metal pierced the flesh of his thigh and he went down, hamstrung. He kept crawling, even as Jason's feet landed on either side of him. “That's cute,” he said, as he stomped a batarang out of Tim's hand. His fingers crunched under his boot. “You think you still have a chance.”

“I have to,” he gritted out, going still, trying to measure his next move. If he tried to grab anything else, Jason would break his other hand. “I’m Robin.”

He snorted, his boot coming to rest between Tim’s shoulder blades, pinning him, as if he could manage more than an army crawl. “Robin’s never been a little omega bitch.”