Ronon watches over Bruce and Logan because Sheppard asks him to do so. Bruce and Tony like having Ronon around. Smut ensues, lots of slashy smut.

My first attempts at Tim/Kon, and it shows. I've since made some edits, but not all that many as these things go. The fascinating thing to me is that, almost ten years later, I wouldn't change much of *anything* about the Kon.

Jason tilts his head and stares at the innocuous post it notes on his fridge.

Tim really, really likes it when Jason comes inside him.

I already have the post with Young Justice verse Jason & Damian comic strips where all my fluffy stuff goes, so this is where most of my horny bottom Jason art goes.

Jason raises his eyebrows. "So we like… spar? And you'll what, let me fuck you if I win?" "Sure. If you win." Tim smiles and a thrill goes up Jason's spine. He shucks off his jacket and shoes before making his way to the mat. "It's a deal, then. Hope you won't regret it, Replacement." Tim's teeth look strangely sharp under the Cave lighting when he says, "I'll try my best."

“Remind me why I’m the one on my knees again? I look ridiculous.” He’s not kidding. He doesn’t have the fucking physique to pull off submissive kitty cat. He’s broad, hairy, and thick with muscle. The expensive ears on his head, the detailed mitts on his hands, and the tail attached to his leather short shorts can’t possibly look anything but stupid. Not to mention the heavy black leather collar around his neck and its stupidly delicate Property of Timothy Drake-Wayne tag. He doesn’t know what the fuck Babs was thinking when she asked him to help Tim with this mission instead of Steph. Except he does, because of course their target just had to be into degrading big men. Fuck, but he hates honeypot missions.

The costume version of the Red Robin uniform that Cass provided Jason with has been altered to fit his proportions. The fabric is form-fitting but not uncomfortable, and the bandoliers snap across his chest without issue… except for the sordid way they frame his pecs. Between the chest action, the absence of a cup, and the feathered cape, he really feels like he's about to turn tricks. But, well… he can't complain. At least he has it better than Tim.

"Hell, Pretender. Look at you being all assertive and shit. You gonna ask me to call you Daddy while you're at it?" "Depends." Tim doesn’t miss a beat. He runs his fingers lower, caressing Jason's perineum and the back of his balls with his knuckles. "Do you wanna be my good boy, Hood?" Jason sucks in a sharp breath, hips jerking as his cock pulses. "Fuck off. Of course not." "I think you do. But you're right, Daddy doesn't really fit, does it?" Tim tilts his head, remembering Jason's propensity for feminine pet names. "How about Mommy?"

“Are you alright?” Tim squints, his new ears standing at attention, “You look flushed.” Jason tears his eyes away to stare at the ceiling, “I’m fine, and you look like Beast Boy’s deleted search history.” “That’s more like it,” Tim takes another step closer and Jason steps back immediately, “but you’re still being weird.” “I’m not being weird, I’m being nice and not trash talking you. Can we get to the case?” There’s a pause, then Tim’s eyes narrow and he brushes his tail against Jason’s leg with deliberation. Jason knows he’s been made when he fails to contain the shiver of arousal that runs through him. Tim’s eyes go wide, “Holy shit. You like it.”

Meonji

Kon is in desperate need of a bit of relaxation. Maybe his method of choice is a little unconventional, but hey, getting fucked until even his Kryptonian biology is exhausted is a harmless way to get there.

The problem is, there are too many Alpha's. Too many Alpha's on the League, and too many Alpha's at home. But Bruce, as always, has a plan to fix that.

A series to follow Apollo, Midnighter, Slade and Jason pucking and fucking. Follow Apollo, Midnighter, Jason Todd, Slade Wilson, Mark Grayson, and Dick Grayson through the world of this lovely hockey AU. A world where all the hockey fandom tropes meet DC! Goalie nesting, winner's room, kneeling, poaching... if we can dream it up, it'll be here!

Jason, on a mission, gets captured. Tim, working undercover, goes to get him out. There's...a side benefit.

“Why are there reporters-” Dick stopped. His eyes locked on the TV. “Oh, look at that Drake- you’re trending on social media.” Damian offered far too coolly to be any form of casual. XxX In which Tim's nudes get leaked online and he is surprisingly casual about it

"Timmers sucked me pregnant," Jason blurts, and Tim watches in morbid fascination as Bruce goes through the five stages of grief in a millisecond. "I thought you said you weren't… sleeping together," Bruce says reproachfully. "He means that I, uh, impregnated him with my teeth. When I drank his blood. No sex involved," Tim explains. "It was an accident. I didn't even know I could do that."

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?" "It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back.

“I need you,” Tucker blurts immediately as he bursts into the living room where he left Kon half an hour ago. Or maybe two hours ago. Hopefully not more than three . . . ? “Like in a sexy way?” Kon asks, sounding halfheartedly hopeful as he looks up from his position draped across the couch with one of Tucker’s mom’s blander gossip magazines, where he’s clearly been bored out of his mind. Tucker will make that up to him later, definitely, but right now– “Like in a rogue attack way,” he says, and Kon makes a face.