#Werewolf!Jason

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Claws and Curses

Werewolf!Jason and Vampire!Reader. They’re best friends, your honor, even when Gotham gets weird. ~1.6k words

Being a vampire is hard. Seriously, five days of trying to adjust to sharpened fangs and claws has not been fun. You’re hungry almost constantly, and you can only take eating raw meat and draining the blood bags the GCPD has been giving out for so much longer.

On top of all that, you broke your bedroom door just by opening it. It hangs limply by its hinges now, and you haven’t gotten around to fixing it. You have no idea how metas with super strength deal with it.

You didn’t even get turned into a vampire the fun way. No, it wasn’t a bite that has you treating everything like it's made of glass but a curse. A witch with some sort of vendetta against Gotham cast a spell, and it left civilians, rouges, and heroes alike running around as monsters.

At first, it was funny, a day off of work wasn’t so bad, and you figured if Batman, who apparently got turned into some kind of wraith, couldn’t fix it, Red Hood would.

But by day three? You hadn’t heard from Jason once, and your boss was insistent that you could come back to work.

Day four, you still had radio silence from Jason, and Gotham was carrying on like Vicki Vale wasn’t delivering the morning news with snakes instead of hair and thick, heavy sunglasses hiding her eyes.

Day five, you were growing increasingly worried about Jason, and you were starting to wonder if you were gonna be stuck as a vampire forever.

Yeah, you had gotten used to opening doors without breaking them, but you had spent almost your entire shift trying to help one of your coworkers, who had been unlucky enough to transform into a yeti, try to deal with shedding. You were still trying to get tufts of white fur off your coat, even on your walk home.

You were so wrapped up in wondering if it was possible to curse a witch back, that you fail to notice the flock of harpies starting to box you in, eagerly trying to corral you into an alley.

They snap their talons at you, and it’s only then your attention focuses on the four bird-like creatures leering at you. “This is our territory,” one of them croons at you, sharp teeth glinting in the street lights, “and there’s a price to be here.”

Your mouth works before your brain does, and you tell them exactly what you think of their little power play, “That’s stupid.”

If they’re put out by your lack of fear, none of them show it. One of them inches forward, gesturing for your pockets, “Wallet and phone, unless you’d like for things to get ugly?”

Your lips curl into a frown. It would be smart to just hand over your things. You’re not exactly a seasoned fighter, and you’re not completely sure how durable vampires are in the face of other monsters.

A part of you wants to find out, to test how capable your strength and fangs and claws can really be.

You don’t get the opportunity to decide. A threatening growl fills the air, and as you whip your head towards the noise, as a large, intimidating werewolf stalks out of the alley behind you.

The harpies didn’t scare you. Most of the monsters you’ve seen haven't shaken you. But this one? He’s terrifying. Teeth and nails meant for shredding skin. Dark, matted fur, and eyes that seemed to glow. Just the sight of him is enough to have all your nerves on edge.

The flock behind you seems to feel the same way, and the air almost crackles with tension.

You’re not sure who moves first, if the wolf takes a step forward, or if the harpies turn to run from a clear apex predator, but someone moves, and your would-be assailants make themselves scarce before you’ve even registered they’re gone.

You half expect the werewolf to pounce, to hunt down the harpies, but he does neither. He sits himself down in front of you and gives you the most disappointed look you’ve ever seen, You didn’t even know wolves could make that face.

It’s then that you notice the clothes he’s wearing, the red bat emblem, the distinctive hooded vest. “No way,” you breathe out, unable to fight the grin spreading across your face, “Jason?”

He rolls his eyes at you, letting out a huff as if to say ‘Duh’.

“You’re a dog,” You point out, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice. Relief spreads over your body when he glares at your words. It really is good to see him alive, and just as expressive, even under the curse.

You reach out to scratch his ears, and he leans into your touch. They’re surprisingly soft under your fingers. “Shouldn’t we be fighting, or something?”

He blinks once, then twice. Jason lets out another low, almost indignant huff at your question. He lifts his head, questioning eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to elaborate.

Your grin wider at him, almost teasing as you run your hand lazily over the fur on his head, “It’s just, aren’t werewolves and vampires sworn enemies? Shouldn’t you be trying to bite my fingers instead of going all lapdog on me?”

Jason’s ears flatten slightly, and he lets out a quiet, frustrated growl. It's clear that he doesn't appreciate the implication that he would harm you.

You laugh, moving to scratch under his chin, “Yeah, I know. Who cares about centuries of fighting and stereotypes when we have trash TV to watch together.”

His ears perk up at your words, and his tail starts to wag. He offers your hand a slobbery lick, which you make a face at. He grins at the offended noise you make, all teeth and mischief.

You pull your hand away, wiping the drool onto your clothes, tone accusing and playful all at once, “Now, I know the curse didn’t take your manners.”

He shrugs at you, at least as much as a werewolf can shrug, and starts walking towards your building. He glances over his shoulder expectantly, like he expects you to follow.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for that witch? Instead of walking me home,” you ask curiously, quickly catching up to him.

He leans into you a little, huffing in a way that’s so familiar you know he finds your question ridiculous.

You delight in how warm he is against your side, you’ve been running cold since the curse turned you. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, going quiet as you take in the fact that he’s really here. Your next confession slips out thoughtlessly, “I missed talking to you.”

His steps falter, and he turns his head to look at like you’ve said something important.

“Plus, I need you to fix my door,” you say quickly, embarrassed by your slip up, “Broke it with my vampire powers.” You waggle your pointed nails at him, voice light and teasing as you try to mask how much you actually have missed him.

You’re not sure if you’ve managed to convince him, but he keeps walking all the same. You make a note to look into jinxes to curse the witch when you get home.

You really do miss his voice, and the easy conversation that usually flows between you. You find it almost cruel that it’s been taken from you.

It’s that feeling that drives you to keep talking as you near your apartment, “You know you could come over, right? Even if we’re all still cursed? I can turn on that show we’re watching and help you with your fur.”

He has the audacity to look offended, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he stares you down with faux hurt.

You have a stifle a giggle at his face, “C’mon, have you even had a bath since this whole thing started? At least let me brush it out if you’re still furry tomorrow. Deal?”

He’s reluctant about it, you tell by the way his ears flick back, but he nods anyway.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” you say happily, and reach out to pet his head. His eyes close when you do, and you bite back a fond noise at how his tail starts to wag contently.

You begrudgingly drop your hand from his fur, and you almost start scratching him again when he actually whines over it. You don’t know how he does it, but he gives you perfect puppy dog eyes that almost melt your heart.

“Don’t give me that look,” you whine right back, “Don’t you have to go save Gotham or something?”

He seems to contemplate your words for a moment, then gives in, nudging your side as if to say goodbye.

He nuzzles your side, almost long enough that you start to say something, before he pulls away to leave. It almost reminds you of how animals mark their territory with their scent, but you brush away that thought as quickly as it forms.

“Hey,” you call out, stopping him before he gets too far, “Make sure you come over, okay? Even if you still smell like dog.”

He grins at you and yips before disappearing into the Gotham night. You take it for the promise it is, and, as you head inside your apartment building, you wonder if he’ll be interested in the dog treats you keep around for Haley and Ace.

The idea makes you laugh, and for the first time since the curse took its hold on Gotham, you almost want to wake up as a vampire tomorrow, if only for the chance to tease your best friend.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I'm getting dental surgery today and would really appreciate some emotional support werewolf Jason? Please? For the poor?

Jason put himself between you and the man who was ogling you and the subvocal growl made the hair stand up on the back of Clark's neck- and made the human man turn his gaze away quickly.

He, Clark- tried not to hear what Jason was murmuring in your ear. You were upset. Overwhelmed. It was too much. All too much today. And he had no idea what that was doing to Jason but- it was sweet. In a way. Kinda. Maybe. He was snarling at people. And velcroed to your side. But. Whenever you reached out for him, he was there.

"Just don't think about it too much," Bruce said not looking up from his computer. "Just know, the wolf part of his brain thinks its his job to protect her. From everything."

"Isn't she just as scary?"

"Can be," Bruce hummed, "In theory, I suppose. But in her previous life she was a kindergarten teacher."

"Hm?"

"Honest," Bruce snorted. "She was a teacher. They snatched her out of a parking lot after parent-teacher conferences."

"Why?"

"No clue," Bruce said honestly. "Her family tree. Her blood work. We've gone over ALL of it with a fine-toothed comb and there's nothing genetically interesting that they might have been looking for."

"Odd." But as he watched Jason tuck you into his side and wrap his arms around you loosely- protective to you possessive to anyone watching- He wondered if the quirk they wanted was "appealing to male wolves". Or maybe just men in general

[pain-is-too-tired]

Valgrace au thoughts.

Were-wolf Jason trying to flirt/bond like a wolf would towards dragon Leo.

Bumping his body against Leo's, making soft whining noises, nuzzling him, rolling on his back why laying down, etc

Meanwhile, Leo would flirt more dragon like. Bringing Jason trinkets and gifts,bumping heads together,displaying his wings(which only show up in his smol dragon form,form which Jason finds adorable),etc

Both nuzzling and cuddling close together in Leo's nest/bed. When both are turned during the full moon, you can easily find them curled up in their other forms fast asleep. Jason curled around tiny Lil dragon Leo. He growls at anyone who gets too close hdhd

[bothoutsiders]

pls i recommend listening to this song on repeat while reading. ( this is part two from a previous ficlet. )

--

The cold, wet concrete beneath him felt oddly comforting, even as his chest tightened with every shallow gasp. It was difficult to pull air into his lungs, and whenever he managed to do it, it burned with each breath. The metallic, sharp scent of his own blood lingered in the air. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not now.

He had been alone for too long, and when things changed, when he became the monster he was now– he found someone who accepted him. Tim. Jason’s mind brought back memories of him. His warm, small hand petting his fur. His forehead pressing against Jason’s, as he whispered encouraging, kind words. Things were going to be alright, he only needed to focus on his voice.

The thought of opening his eyes never crossed his mind. Let alone the thought of even getting on his feet to look for shelter and heal his wounds. Even with the struggle of breathing, he was feeling strangely comfortable. Enough to want to take a well deserved nap.

“Jason!”

His ears twitched, tuning to the new sound, ignoring the one of his lungs slowly collapsing. The voice sounded real, but it could’ve been one of his many hallucinations. It happened occasionally, after all, his mind had been broken a few times. By now, he was barely aware of the state of his own body, not even noticing he had been lying on a puddle of blood for a while now.

“Jason! Jay!”

The voice was so familiar. He almost could tell who it was… But he couldn’t put a name to them. He could only see the image in his head of a pretty young man smiling up at him. It was a sweet, nice smile. 

Tim. Timothy was his name.

A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, his body fighting, refusing to surrender, because that was what he did best. To resist. To come back from death… But it felt so cold now.

With great effort, Jason opened his eyes, but his vision was blurred. The voice calling his name, and the sound of feet running on puddles of rain in the distance, grew muffled. His pulse thundered in his ears, louder than his breaths.

“Stay with me, Jason. You’ll be alright!”

With some difficulty, his exhausted eyes tried to focus on the thin figure kneeling in front of him. He felt small hands inspecting his body with practiced ease, and somehow, he felt safe. He felt he was back home.

When he looked up at Tim’s face, he saw his disbelief, the desperation as tears rolled down his pretty face. He could smell Tim’s fear in the night breeze. Jason didn’t need to see to know this was the end.

“Jason, look at me,” it took some effort to pull away his gaze from Tim’s hands. They were covered with blood. “You need to help me, I need you to stand up– we will take out the bullets, then you’ll be able to heal– Jason, listen to my voice!” 

He could hear Tim’s voice breaking as he closed his eyes again. He knew he couldn’t fight this now. 

Tim's trembling hands reached out, brushing against the black fur of his head. Some parts of his body were already matted with dried blood, making it impossible for Tim’s thin fingers to brush him as he used to. He tried to cup his face and lean against him as his boyfriend’s head rested on his lap, and his blood stained his legs completely.

“Stay with me, Jason. Stay with me, stay with me, stay with– Jason, please.” A broken sob. 

Jason nuzzled against him, seeking comfort in the only person who had accepted him, who had offered affection. The motion was slow, tender, despite the growing weight of death pulling him down. He was trying to imprint Tim’s scent in his fading senses.

Maybe it should’ve been better if Tim hadn’t seen him in this state.

His head dipped against Tim, whose sobbing filled the silence. He mustered up energy to look at him one last time. Jason’s eyes, now dull and fading, locked onto his as he tried to memorize every detail of his face, before darkness slowly swallowed his world, stealing the last bit of light.

He could rest now.

[igotanidea]

Cinnamon: werewolf!Jason Todd x reader

Request: Yes, by anon ;)

Happy birthday to the one and only Jay Todd!

***

“Out of everyone, it has to be him, why!?”

“Are you jealous, Grayson?” Damian raise an eyebrow at his older brother. Much to everyone’s surprise, the blood soon spend last half an hour listening to Dick ranting and complaining about how unfair it was that out of the entire batfamily it was Jason who get the ability to turn into a wolf. And to make the situation even worse, he was an alpha.

“Jealous?! No! Of course not! Definitely not! Maybe a little…..?”

“If anything he envies Jason that little beta girl, he’s been seeing…….” Stephanie chimes in, chuckling at Dick’shock.

“A…. a beta? So what, he’s got a girlfriend now? Why don’t I know it?!”

“Are you three having fun gossiping about my life?!” Jason leans on the doorframe clearly annoyed at his siblings talking and discussing his private matters.

“Plenty.” Damian smirks vindictively

“You have a girlfriend?!” Dick looks at Jason with the biggest doe eye possible, trying his best to get any information out.

“Screw you Dickhead…..”

“Come on, Jaybird, don’t be like that!”

“I’m not telling you shit!”

“Pleeeeaaasseeeeee…….” Dick grabs his little brother, clinging to him, dead set on not letting go before retrieving as little as the scraps “You never tell me anything anymore….”

“Yeah… wonder why is that…..” Stephane mutters sipping on her slushie

“You’re insufferable, Grayson……”

“I’m just your wonderful, caring, older brother……”

“Nosy, intrusive, controlling, gossiping…..” J

“Hey! That is….. a bit true…..” Dick pouts “but still caring!!”

“I’m done with you. I’m going out…..” Jace mutters turning towards the door

“Can I watch you turn?!” Damian yells after him, his love for the animals taking over as the youngest Wayne rushes after Jason, hoping to see him transform into that beautiful, majestic wolf. “Todd!!”

However, what comes in package with being a werewolf is speed and even Damian with Robin skills could not compare with the rate of transformation. When Damian reached the door, Jason was already gone, the only trail of him being the imprint of foot on the path leading to the manor.

“Damn…..”

***

Jason refused to answer any of Dick’s question not because of how intrusive they were, but because he was afraid to be forced to put a tag on what he had with Y/N.

She was… something.

And he felt something for her.

Even if he wasn’t sure what it was.  

It was not normal for an alpha to get connected to beta. The rule was simple as it was. Alpha paired with omega. ALWAYS. So Y/N was an anomaly. On every possible field.

And now his wolf instinct made him run to her. Her scent were calling him.

Cinnamon.

She always smelled like cinnamon.

Maybe it was because of her human profession, since she was a baker and her show-off dish was cinnamon rolls and apple pie. Or maybe not. Honestly he wasn’t sure of anything, but the animal in him felt that smell and craved her.

So he run. As fast as his furry body and four strong legs allowed him.

He needed her.

And he could feel something was wrong.

He found her in the forest next to her house, her white fur shining in the light, as she laid her head on the paws looking …. sad. Like a beaten dog.

But the second she sensed him, she put the head up, looking his direction tilting it at him in the same gesture she did in her human form. And it made him feel again, wanting to do something, anything to cheer her up somehow.

Maybe he could try chasing her around? That was something that would make him feel better, surely, but Y/N was a lady in every meaning of the word. As surprising as that sounded, she hated getting dirty, avoided getting dirty, always cleaned her fur after stepping into the mud. Like a royalty. Which was even more shocking considering the fact, that as a baker she had flour everywhere on her face and clothes and hair. Maybe that was why her fur was white.

“Hey, Jace….” She called to him telepathically

“You good, Y/N?”

“just tired. Busy day at the bakery. Needed to get out of the human form and just feel instead of think.”

“Explains why you’re in the forest.”

“You look like you needed escape too.”

“Oldest brother getting intrusive.”

“Oh, yeah, family troubles….” If she was a human he would chuckle at that moment.

“Speaking from experience?”

“Maybe…..”

“Wanna run?”

“No.”

“All right…..” he walks towards her and nudge her nose with his playfully, nuzzling his head into his, hoping whatever it is on her mind will subside when he make her feel.

“Jace….?”

“I know….” he plops on the ground, paws in front of him waving his tail a sign for her to lay next to him. He knows. He knows exactly what she needs. He can feel it. And he lets her. No matter how out-of –character it may seem for him. He signed up for this. He signed up for her. And to be completely honest (not that he would admit it to Grayson, of course) he likes those silent moment with her. Only them in their wolf forms, out of the civilisation, out in the open, feeling, hearing, sensing. It’s nice and peaceful and quiet and he feels like he can be himself when she’s next to him, so close.  And it was enough. It was perfect.

***

Couple hours later, still in his werewolf form he walked her back home, not that she needed escort, but he wanted to do this. Or maybe he didn’t want to part with her.

Acting like a gentleman he turned around when Y/N turned back into human, grabbing a shirt from behind the door to cover herself. She had a twig in her messy hair, her eyes were big and shiny and her heartbeat was significantly faster than it should. Side effects of transmutation.

He should go.

He really should go.

But the way she kept standing on the threshold looking at him made him stay, unable to make a single move.

They both felt the connection.

Wolf and human.

Human and wolf.

Two wolfs. Two humans.

“Jason…..?” she trailed, taking a step forward, reaching for his fur and stroking it gently, causing him to lean into his touch. Neither of them seemed to care that the neighbours might be surprised to see a giant wolf in front of the house in the suburbs.

He knew it was not easy for her to show herself to him in her human form. It could only mean one thing. She needed him to take care of her. She needed to feel his warm, big, strong, animal body next to her. His warmth, his presence, his soft, silky pelage.

“Stay?” she whispered. “I really need some company tonight. And I had the door rebuilt to make sure you fit in inside. Please?” she looks into his eyes and it’s like as if she was reaching straight to his soul.

He can’t leave her.

Even if his sibling would tease him in the morning about not coming home for the night.

He can’t leave her.

He’s more than happy to lay on the floor in her leaving room having her arms wrapped tightly around him, making her feel safe and taken care of. Serving as her pillow.

Feeling her.

Feeling the cinnamon smell.

[zahura]

Ok, so I was reading Ari’s (@xxgoblin-dumplingxx) Werewolf!Jason fanfics and there’s an order to them and it was a long and annoying process to scroll a million years to get to the exact one I wanted, so to save Future Zahra time (and you, too, what the hell) I organized it into a list. You’re welcome:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

[gentleman-todd]

So does beast word confirm Jason would absolutely be a werewolf or wolf-dog shifter in fic AU’s (like if you wanted to use canon backed information for your choice)?

[fcthots]

IMAGINE WEREWOLF JASON. and dick always teases him by calling him "pooch"

I never really got into the whole werewolf thing

but now I have the image of Jason acting like a dog when you get home. So happy to see you. Jumping on you until you run your hands through his hair. You get the picture.

[solelifauna]

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)

Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.

If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏

The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.

You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.

“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.

“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.

“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.

How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?

You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.

“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.

“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”

“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”

“Im guessing its about–”

“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”

“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.

“Kill me? Eat me?” 

She nodded.

You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”

“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.

“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”

“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”

“I’m aware.”

Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on. 

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.

You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?

“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!

“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.

The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.

“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”

And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.

“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.

“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.

Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.

Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”

Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”

“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”

As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.

When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.

But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.

The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.

“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.

Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.

“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”

Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.

You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.

Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.

The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?

You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless. 

As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline

Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.

“Im gonna kill myself.”

“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.

You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.

“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”

“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.

“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”

Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.

Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.

Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”

“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”

You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.

“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.

Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”

Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”

You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.

Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”

You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”

Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”

The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.

“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.

“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”

You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”

Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.

“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.

“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.

The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.

Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.

“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.

“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.

You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile. 

“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.

“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.

“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.

“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.

As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.

You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.

You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.

As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.

Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”

You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.

“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”

He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”

The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.

Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”

The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.

You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.

Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”

“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.

Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”

The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.

With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.

The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.

“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.

“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.

The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.

You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.

Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.

“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.

“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”

“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”

The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”

You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”

As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.

The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.

As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.

As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.

With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.

“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”

“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.

As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.

You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.

“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.

“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”

Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”

You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”

“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”

The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.

The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.

Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.

Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”

“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.

“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.

“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”

Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”

You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.

The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.

“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”

The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.

“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.

Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.

You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.

“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”

He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.

“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.

“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.

Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”

He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.

“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”

You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.

“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”

You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.

You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.

[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]

[the-thot-clown]

Halloween Pin Ups sneak peeks!

L!nk in my pinned post!

[polarspaz]

-More Horror Bros AU doodles! I also updated Tim's werewolf design.

-Dick ALWAYS breaks when Tim gives him the sad puppy dog eyes. Bruce and Damian are also surprisingly weak against it.

-Tim likes to wear shirts that belong to either Bruce or Kon. Bruce's scent calms him down and makes him feel safe, while Kon's scent reminds me of the sun and makes him giddy. Tim will never admit this though, he will also never admit how embarrassed he is about how Kon's shirt is STILL too big for him, even as a werewolf.

-I said before that Jason can't eat, but I think I might make change that and make him have to eat brains, animal ones at least. It gross. So, so, gross and when Jason is feeling especially devious, he'll make digusting noises while eating, just to make Tim gag.

-When they got cursed, Dick was the first to go down and started coughing up his teeth, along with halve of his blood. Jason rushed over to help, but his own skin began to rot and peel off. Damian was hunched over next to Tim, clutching his throat while gasping for breath as tiny green fish scales blossomed all over his skin. Tim had only a moment to act and manged to grab Damian and yeet him into the harbor before he himself began to transform.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Instinct 

Beast World!AU- If you know nothing about Beast World, that is okay! This is essentially Werewolf!Jason Todd. I don't think I've written something like this before, so if it's bad, it was still fun to try and write. Honestly, this is kinda practice for when October rolls around because I have ideas. ~1.3k words

Jason Todd knows he should be in this cage. He's not quite himself, claws where there should be fingers and fangs where there used to be teeth. He's faster, stronger, larger. His senses are sharper. His body tends to react on instinct before he really knows what he's doing. 

So, yes, being behind six inches of polycarbonate ballistic glass in the Batcave is probably a good idea. 

If he could still speak, he'd tell you how good it is to see you everyday. Something about seeing you work around the Batcave on a cure, seeing you sit outside his cage and talk to him, is calming. He misses being able to answer you, misses being able to touch you, but it's still nice to hear your voice. 

It keeps him from pacing along the walls or scratching at what's left of the bedding. 

He's watching you now, head resting on his hands- uh, paws, now- as you push food for him through the small opening in his cell. 

He is hungry. He always seems to be hungry. There's an itch under his skin for something more, to be back in the streets of Gotham with blood on his muzzle. You always seem to make that feeling go away. He tracks you as you smile at him and turn to leave. He just needs to have you in his vision. There's no explanation other than this situation is better when you're here, when you're focused on him. 

He knows your smell, your scent, even through the glass separating him from the outside world, he knows. Jason has trouble, sometimes, remembering how he knows you. Whatever's made him sick, made him this thing, messes with his thoughts. But even his base instincts know you're special, something to be kept close. 

It doesn't really matter what you are to each other, he knows enough. How could he ever forget the feeling of you in his arms? Every memory of you is ingrained in every cell of his body; he just knows. Knows how you look when you laugh, how your tears feel against the pads of his thumbs. 

So even if the details come and go, you're a constant. The only reason he's even putting up with this cage. 

His ears perk up when Dick comes into view. He lets out a huff at the wave Dick gives him, and turns his focus back to you.

Jason doesn't really listen to what you're talking about, processing words isn't as easy as it used to be, but he lifts his head when Dick leads you down to the training mats.

The fur on the back of his neck raises when you start throwing punches at each other. 'Training. It's just training,' he tells himself. But all rational thought flies out the window when you hit the ground. He slams into the glass. Slams into it again as it cracks. Rams his body into the glass a third time as it finally breaks and splinters around him. 

You're worried about Jason. Everyone is. Gotham is in chaos, filled with humans turned animals from a disease no one’s figured out how to cure yet. It makes your stomach twist, to see him locked in a cage, unable to voice what he wants or how he's feeling. You spend more time than not in the Batcave now, talking to him, playing music while you work on trying to cure him.

You know Jason's still in there. You can tell in the way he tilts his head at you, barks out laughs at the stories you tell. But you also know he's not all there. 

Sometimes his eyes seem to glow, his gaze will change into something feral as he stalks back and forth. He growls when people get too close to the glass, digs his claws into the fabric littered throughout his cage. 

"You need a break," You look up as Dick's voice cuts into your thoughts.

"I know, but I'm close to something. I can feel it," You tell him, eyes darting to the computer running your latest analysis. 

Dick glances over at the screen, "Looks like you still have some time on that. Why not spar with me? Get some energy out?"

You think on it, then nod, "Yeah, sure."

Dick grins like it's the best thing he heard all day as he leads you down to the training area, "Better not go easy on me." 

You laugh, putting your hands up in a practiced fighting stance, "As long as you don't go easy on me."

Sparring with Dick does actually turn out to be the break you needed. It's almost relaxing to let yourself go on autopilot, dodging his punches and throwing your own in return. 

It happens before you realize, that he's hooked his ankle behind your knee. You hit the mat and exhale sharply, making a face at Dick as he grins down at you. He opens his mouth, probably to throw out some remark about having your head in the game, when the sound of glass shattering makes you whip your head towards Jason's cage. 

Two-hundred plus pounds of fur and sharpened canines are charging at you.

"Shit," Dick says your name, steps in front of you, but it doesn't do any good when Jason snarls and shoves him to the side. 

You barely have time to get a noise out before he's barreled into you, crushing you to his chest and turning to face Dick with a growl.

You sputter out a mouth full of fur, squirming to try and move back. Jason only crouches lower to the ground and holds you tighter. 

"Jason, hey, they're not hurt, okay? We were just sparring. No one's in danger." You hear Dick trying to soothe Jason, but you're more distracted by the rumbling of his chest against your face. 

You push lightly at him, "Jason, it's okay."

He falls quiet. 

Jason knows you're not hurt. Knows Dick wouldn't actually put you in danger. But that didn't stop him from breaking out of his cell. (He really could have done that at any time, but how else would he see you?) 

He carefully lets go of you, but keeps his body angled between you and Dick. It's not his fault his brain is screaming that you're in danger. That he should killkillkill anything that threatens you. You're not fragile by any means, but you're so precious. He should be protecting you, not separated from your side by glass. 

"Jason," your voice interrupts his thoughts, and he angles his head to look at you. You're sitting down and patting your lap. He tilts his head. "Come here, it's okay."

You sound relaxed, even if your heart rate is elevated, and he finds himself wanting to listen. He drops to the ground, keeping Dick in his line of sight as he rests his head against your legs. 

He notes your hesitation before you start petting his head and scratching his ears. He leans happily into your touch. This is what he was missing. He pushes his head against your stomach, wanting you to keep going. Jason doesn't miss the look you give Dick, or the helpless shrug he offers back. 

It's not like anyone can stop him from being where he wants. He won't let anyone get close enough to sedate him. And he certainly won't go back in a cage now he knows how nice your hand is against his fur. 

No, he'll stay by your side until whatever cure you're working on is done. It'll be nice, he thinks as he cuddles into your side, for both of you. He'll be able to keep you warm, keep you safe. And if there isn't a cure? You'll never have to worry about any of the infected. He won't let anyone near you. 

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I’m foaming at the mouth for werewolf!Jason idk how you do it

Idk either, tbh

Jason stood over you, putting himself between you and Bruce and growled softly. Warning him.

The moon was singing in his ears. Calling the beast forward. And the beast was not kind. Or gentle.

He'd called you his mate. His.

And if anyone touched you, he would tear them to pieces.

"I don't want to hurt her," Bruce said. Trying to avoid a staring contest and keep his voice even. "I just need blood. I have a hunch I need to test."

You were improving. But slowly. And he wanted to know why. Wanted to know what they'd done to you to cause it. And if he could get samples to test- maybe they could find out.

Jason growled again. Turning to nip at you when you raise your head. Telling you to stay still as he crouched down, ears back. Not quite bearing his teeth but. His hackles were rising.

Bruce froze. Watching. And felt his heart clench when you whined. Forcing yourself up to nuzzle into the fur on his neck. Seemingly cowering in front of him. And he felt himself start breathing again when it broke Jason's concentration. It was all instinct. He knew that. But watching you expose your neck and your belly to his teeth and watching him gently sink his teeth into your neck- into your fur. Not hard enough to hurt you but hard enough to scold you- he felt the hair stand up on the ack of his neck.

"I'll wait," Bruce said backing up. From what he'd been able to find, he might have better luck when you weren't furry. But he appreciated you not letting Jason eat him. Apparently 'submissive' did not mean powerless.

[redr0sewrites]

Werewolf!Jason Todd Imagine

🥀A/n: veeeerrry self indulgent. happy late birthday jason todd my beloved!!!

🥀Cw: afab!reader, filthy smut, werewolf kink (?), switch!jason todd, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, very slight sub/ puppy kink on jays end if u squint, breeding kink, porn w no plot, grinding, masturbation, knotting, oral (m and f receiving), size kink

🥀minors dni

Jason was shocked at how well you took the news that he was a werewolf. he expected you to be outraged, or worse, break up with him. intrigue- and maybe even arousal- was certainly not the reaction he had expected.

with you being a human, Jason was very adamant about not hurting you during sex- especially when it came to knotting. he explains that not only is he bigger than most, but during a full moon, or worse, a rut, he changes.

the first time you sleep together, he's so nervous, all slow and gentle, prepping you for at least an hour and making you cum twice before practically splitting you in half on his cock. he's all sensitive and needy, struggling to stay in control as his primal instincts battle against his self awareness.

he wants nothing more than to flip you over and fuck you senseless, breed you 'till your carrying his pups, and yet, he waits. even wheb you both begin sleeping together more frequently, Jason cares about you more than anything else, and he pushes down his desires in favor of your comfort. that doesn't mean they aren't still present, and a horribly timed rut coinciding with a full moon certainly doesn't help matters.

Jason is powerless to his own hormones, and at first he's telling you to stay away, trying to handle it on his own. you can tell he's desperate from the straining rasp of his voice behind the door to your bedroom, and after some pleading on your part, he finally lets you in- and what a sight to behold. his cock is already at full mast, twitching against his abdomen. his hand is still wrapped around the base of his cock, and his most recent release is drying on his tip. he's so hard it hurts, his balls and knot aching to be inside you. the low baritone of Jason's voice rumbles across the room, beckoning you closer. your squeezing your thighs together at the mere sight of him, at how much his dick has grown in his half-transformation.

hes so big, you aren't sure you can even take him, but you know damn well you're going to try.

his heat is growing worse by the minute, and Jason is practically growling at you by the time you make your first move. he moves to the edge of the bed, watching you like an apex predator as you sink down on your knees between his strong thighs, admiring his toned body as you descend. his claws dig into the sheets, and just your breath on his cock has him practicing breathing excercises to prevent cumming too early. he's hot and heavy in your mouth, and you can barely fit his knot down your throat, let alone his entire cock. his full balls slap against your chin, and he lets out a low keen, almost a whimper, when you begin to suck him off.

Jason struggles not to take over and fuck your throat entirely, desperately trying to keep his hips from pistoning up off the mattress as you blow him. a clawed hand nestles on top of your head, gently but firmly controlling your movements.

it isn't long before his first orgasm of the night is approaching, hightened by his hypersensitivity. the sight of you on your knees in front of him, all sweet and innocent and desperate to help him out has him emptying his load down your throat in just a few minutes.

"fffuuck- oh fuck, baby-" Jason moans, thighs twitching as you swallow his cum. his grip loosens on your hair as he moves to cup your cheek. you pull away, leaving a trail of spit between his tip and your lips. Jason growls at the sight, pulling you up onto the bed with frenzied haste.

"i need to taste you..." he murmurs, directing you to lay down. Jason watches you squirm towards the head of the bed, peeling off your own clothes in anticipation. "stay there," you coo, tossing your panties to the side, leaving you completely bare. "wouldn't want you to be an impatient pup, would we?" you tease, and he whines under his breath. he watches your little show with mock amusement, ignoring the desperate ache in his cock when you begin to mischievously tease yourself. at the sight of your glassy eyes and spread folds he groans, your fingers, tiny in comparison to his, rubbing swift circles on your clit combined with your scent overwhelms his senses.

"stop teasing," he murmurs, but doesn't move. "aw, can't have a little self control? what are you gonna do about it?" you whisper, spreading your legs wider and curling a finger inside. you moan out his name and make direct eye contact, watching how his eyes darken as you continue to touch yourself. his self control wavers for a second, then snaps completely.

he crawls towards you on the mattress, animalistic with need as he parts your thighs, revealing your glistening cunt, already wet from your ministrations. you pull your hands away, noting how his pupils expand at the sight of you. your chest heaves as his hand makes its way down your navel towards your clit. his free hand grips hard on the skin of your thigh, holding you in place and leaving crescent marks in its wake.

"should punish you for teasing me like that," he murmurs, his breath hot against your cunt. "y-you wont," you quip, spreading your legs just slightly to accentuate your words. "you're too needy. like a bitch in heat," you coo, and Jason curses before pinching your clit between too fingers. his claws provide extra stimulation, almost painful but not quite, and you let out a yelp of pleasure.

in response, you move to touch him, but he shakes his head. "hands off, 'want you t'focus on me," he slurs, leaning down on his stomach to inhale your scent. you stubbornly oblige, realizing how truly needy he is, and bring your hands up above your head so you can watch him intently.

Jason begins by circling your clit with his thumb, his claws gently grazing your sensitive skin. entranced by the sight of your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing, he leans down to press a soft kiss against your aching cunt before licking a stripe up towards where he's circling your pearl. his pace never slows as he sloppily makes out with your pussy, sucking and swirling his tongue against your entrance while simultaneously rubbing harsh circles on your clit. his claws tease against your thigh, and you realize that he's humping the mattress as he's eating you out. he's so far gone he doesn't even realize, and the sight of his hips rocking against the bed in time with his tongue makes your cunt clench.

the coil in your gut tightens as you try to warn him of your upcoming orgasm and he shushes you, the soft vibrations of his words against your pussy making you buck your hips. "cmon, baby- ffuck- give it t'me. please... need to taste you.." he moans, grinding down even harder against the mattress. Jason's tongue laps against your aching hole, sucking and swallowing your juices as the coul in your abdomen snaps altogether. with a stuttering moan he cums too, not even pausing as he continues to ride out both of your highs. your bordering on overstimulation as he keeps sucking on your abused pussy, and you try to squirm away, only for him to pull your cunt flush against his face once again.

"one more, please baby, jus' one more, don' wanna hurt you," he moans incoherently against your entrance. you nod, and he lets out a few murmured thank you's against your flushed inner thighs before diving his tongue back into your cunt. slurping and sucking, he works you up slower this time, watching you squirm slightly from overstimulation. your previous orgasm left you even more sensitive than before and he'll gladly use that to his advantage.

removing his hand from your pearl, Jason hones in on your clit with his tongue, swirling in ways that make you see stars. his grip is firm on your thighs, large claws sinking into your soft skin. he's practically purring between your legs, moaning and mewling about how delicious you taste and how badly he needs you.

his fat cock is already hard, but he restrains himself from humping against the bed. he wants to savor the feeling of entering your pretty pussy, and edges himself to the thought of cumming inside of you. his pace becomes more fervent as your orgasm approaches, causing you to whine and buck against him.

Jason whispers out soft praises against your cunt, bringing you to the edge for the second time. your orgasm is even better than the first, and your eyes roll back into your head as a wave of pure bliss washes over you. Jason fucks you through it, unrelenting with his tongue until your squirming away.

your juices coat his face, and he doesn't hesitate to lick up the remains of your orgasm. you watch as he crawls up to you, capturing your lips with his own. you can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only makes you needier as Jason groans into the kiss. his cock is painfully hard and pressing against your thigh, and he pulls away to look at you with a pitiful expression.

"please, need to be inside you, ma," he begs, and you don't hesitate to allow him. "of course, baby, take what you need," you coo, cupping his face as he trembles. the pet name makes his cock twitch, and he struggles to restrain himself from fucking you right then and there. "are y'sure? i don't want t' hurt you.." he trails off, rubbing circles on your hips with his claws. your quite aware of the lust thrumming beneath the surface of his seemingly calm demeanor, the twitching of his fat cock and the consistent, slight rocking of his hips against your thigh gave him away.

"oh jay, you're so sweet, too good f'me, my pretty boy.." you coo, and he swallows hard. you gently push on his chest, flipping him over on his back. he's huge, all muscle and strength, and yet he melts from just your simple touches. you straddle him, and his head short circuits as everything around him starts to become fuzzy. when you take control it's like his head is filled with honey, leaving him all dazed and submissive for you. his eyes are wide and glassy as you situate yourself above his cock, teasing him by grinding down on him before slowly aligning his enlarged tip with your entrance.

"relax, honey. be a good pup f'me and take a deep breath," you coo, slowly starting to sink down on to his dick. Jason twitches at the feeling of your warm cunt beginning to suck him in. it takes everything in him to be a good boy, to not buck up into you and fuck you senseless 'till your drooling and whimpering, fucked full of his cum and begging for more more more-

Jason keens, struggling to differentiate between fantasy and reality while you struggle to take him in. his knott is thick, and his cock is bigger than ever before, which is to say, nearly impossibly huge. you can tell he's already too far gone to realize how much his cock is twitching, or even realize how he's shallowly humping up against you. his head is already so fuzzy, desperate to be inside you, but he doesn't want to hurt you either.

you swallow hard, gritting your teeth through the pain of the stretch as you sink farther down his cock. you're almost halfway there and Jason is already babbling, claws digging hard into your hips and hybrid ears pricked upwards. you brace yourself on his tummy, sinking down further until you've not only engulfed his knot but halfway down his length. Jason lets out a strangled whine, and you meet his desperate gaze.

"ffuck- can i- can i move, please, y'taking me s'well, wanna mate with you-" he babbles, claws digging into your skin in desperation. "mngh- not y-yet, baby, still gotta take you inside me," you manage out, and Jason nods, flushing an even deeper red at how needy he sounds. he's trying desperately not to blow his load and cum too quickly, but you're making it soo hard the way you're squeezing and fluttering around him.

you bite down hard on your lip, determined to take him to the hilt. you can tell Jason is nearing his breaking point, you know how painful his rut can be and you don't want him to wiat any longer. taking a deep breath, you sink down further and further, ignoring the pain of the stretch until your seated fully on his cock. Jason lets out a wanton moan, throwing his head back against the pillows as you grasp your bearings.

you slowly begin to rock back and forth on his cock, letting the pain melt into pleasure as his length reaches places you've never felt before. you let out a sharp whimper as his tip brushes your cervix, and Jason stills.

"wait- am i hurting you?" he gasps out between pants, immediately grabbing hold of your hips. "i don't want t'hurt you-" you cut him off with a kiss, struggling to control your breathing as his length twitches inside you. "no, honey, 'm ok, you're just so big, im not used to it," you admit, and Jason eyes you with worry. "are you sure? we can stop, i- i dont-"

"its okay, Jay, im okay, see?" you reply, trying to soothe his worries by increasing your pace. you immediately let out a soft moan as you grind down on his dick, and Jason follows suit. you can still see the anxiety in his eyes, when an idea strikes. you grab one of his large hands from your waists, bringing it to your stomach where an apparent bulge was forming from his size.

"fffuuck- see Jay? 'm not hurting, m just- o-oh- 'm so full, Jay, y'fill me so well.." you coo, increasing your pace yet again. Jason watches, mesmerized by the squelching sounds of your cunt with each thrust and the growing bulge in your tummy. Jason curses loudly, tears welling in his eyes as you flutter around him. "im so close Jay, fuck 'm so close," you whine, rolling your hips against his with increasing fervor. he lets out a near pathetic mewl, bucking his hips up against yours as tears stream down his face.

"oh fuck- shit, shit please ma im so close- mate with me please"

"o-oh- you can cum, baby, you can cum," you reassure him, grinding down harder as your release crashes through you. every nerve in your body is on fire as waves of ecstasy wash over you. you can barely breathe, barely think, everything replaced with him, him, him. the sight of you gushing around his cock and squeezing him like a vice brings Jason to the edge, and he cums in tandem with you, filling your pretty cunt with his seed and babbling out your name like a prayer.

"y'so good Jay, so so good f'me," you gasp out, slowing to a stop as overstimulation begins to overcome you. Jason, too incoherent to reply, merely nods, and you chuckle softly at his fucked-out state. his cock hasn't returned to its usual size, still swelled inside your heat. you don't make an effort to pull away, and neither does Jason, content in staying joined together for the time being. you lay down on his chest, matching your breathing to his as exhaustion weighs over you.

"thank you," Jason rumbles, hands running up and down your sides. "thank you so- hic- much-" you realoze he's crying softly, and the realization makes you tear up too. "why are we crying?" you ask, and he laughs. "i don't even know- i just love you so much," he replies, and you laugh too. you aren't sure if you're giggling or sobbing, but you do know that you're exhausted. you nuzzle into his neck, and Jason gently kisses your cheek.

"go to sleep," he murmurs. "you're human body can't take much more."

"oh, shut it," you reply, but don't argue. as you melt into his embrace, you let sleep slowly claim you, knowing that you'll clean up in the morning.

hhheeeyyyy guys. my only explanation is im ovulating rn. so. erm. yippee!!! 3k words of werewolf smut!!!!

[bothoutsiders]

"All I'm asking is for you to say the words. That's it."

Tim stared at the man across him for a little too long, processing the words he had just heard. After a moment, his brain went completely blank.

"... What?" Maybe he had been up for too long and now he was having auditory hallucinations. It wouldn't be the first time.

"You're the only one that Jason would listen to. Calm him down, keep him from moving away. I'll do the rest."

There was a strange sensation under his skin. A cold that lifted his spine, changing his stance to a defensive one.

"Does Dick know about what you're planning to do?"

Although if he knew, Bruce wouldn't have asked for something like this. The idea was completely absurd. How was he asking for Tim to do such a thing? Out of everyone he could have asked; he chose Tim. Tim!

"No, he's busy with other things, and I'm here left to clean after Jason's mess."

He still thought this request was unbelievable. Was Bruce toying with him?

Bruce sighed.

"Tim, I know about your relationship with Jason, and I also know about this werewolf Jason going in a killing spree every now and then. I've known it from the start."

Tim's body was tense.

"But I also know that you are smart. Smarter than all of us." Bruce lifted a corner of his lips, resigned. "And you know this is the best for everyone. Even for Jason."

His lips tensed, and his lungs filled with air, ready to speak, to defend Jason, but then he remembered...

Every time he witnessed his transformation, he could hear Jason scream and his bones break. It was a painful transformation, and when it ended, Tim needed to be there.

Sometimes after that, nightmares followed, tormenting an exhausted Jason in his sleep.

"But you don't kill, Bruce."

Tim didn't know where to look, he felt confused, pressured and... sad. If he accepted, he would be betraying Jason. His favorite Robin, that guy who had opened up only to him. But Bruce was right, Jason was suffering too.

"He's not going to die, Tim." Bruce shook his head. "I'm only going to kill his werewolf side. After we finish, he will be only human. Maybe you two can move out somewhere nice and start a new life."

After a moment of silence, Tim nodded.

Jason was hard to catch. There were always a plan B, C, and D for him. Perhaps Bruce had taught him well or perhaps this was how Jason had always been. Either way, Bruce needed Tim for this. He knew that the only one who had been able to tame Jason was him.

The plan was simple: give him an order to stay still and then Bruce will shoot him.

One silver bullet to pierce the thick werewolf skin.

One shot to kill the beast inside.

"He's here." He heard through the comms.

Batman moved closer to the place they had agreed on and observed the beast that Jason was now. Even taller than what he used to be, leaning down to Tim who was whispering to him, caressing him, as if he were just a big, big wolf. Not a beast. Not something to be exterminated.

He could see how Jason closed his eyes, trusting the other and enjoying the affection. Bruce wondered if he could've made Jason's life better if he had placed him in a loving family...

Lost in thought, he didn't realize the wind blew, and it carried his scent to them.

To Jason.

In an instant, Jason turned and began to growl.

"Wait- everyone wait!"

Bruce didn't move. He knew that if he was reckless and tried to shoot right now, he would miss his shot. He couldn't risk wasting a bullet.

Tim removed his domino mask and just then Bruce realized his eyes were red and swollen. He cupped Jason's face as he began to sob.

And maybe there was something deep inside Bruce that felt bad for him. Tim was too smart. He knew that the bullet wouldn't only kill the werewolf, but also Jason. It was wrong, but it was something that they needed to do. Bruce needed to end what he had started.

"I'm sorry, Bruce... I'm really sorry."

Now it was Batman's turn to stare at him, trying to understand what he meant. Was Tim regretting everything and now wanted him to stop?

In a blink of an eye, the werewolf was next to Bruce, growling and hovering over him.

"Jason," Tim wiped his tears with the back of his hand. "Kill him."

--

yesterday i was in the car and i heard the guy in the radio speak about a song (blue moon by the marcels) that is also in this movie about a werewolf guy. i guess his gf keeps him busy or something while someone else shoots him, and while the werewolf is dying, he changes back to his original human form but he also dies and the girl cries. for some reason it made me think of jaytim but i decided to give it a lil twist and while i didn't write it, i want to add that jason does kill bruce in this one. :))))) also apologies if there's any mistake, wrote it quickly because i wanted to post it today. have a good one! happy friday the 13th!

[igotanidea]

Species relationship (Cinnamon rewritten) : werewolf!Jason Todd x werewolf!fem!reader

Yes, I think this is way better than previous one. :D

***

„Where’s Jason?”

All the batfamily has gathered in the batcave, the only one missing being the wayward son, the black sheep.

“I believe he’s with that girlfriend of his….” Damian muttered with the roll of his eyes.

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes, father… a fellow female…. Ugh… I don’t understand that concept either….”

“Hm.”

“Was it like a good hm or a bad hm?” Dick chimed in. “I swear your grunts are sometimes so hard to decipher, Bruce…..”

“Who is she?”

“We don’t really know…..” Dick threw up his hands “He’s very…. protective over her….”

“Is she…..?” Bruce hesitated. Sometimes it was still hard to admit that werewolves and all the supernatural occurrences to come with it were real. Yes, Bruce had an open mind when it came to technology and reality, but accepting the fact that his second adopted son could transform into a hairy beast was… a lot. However, if there was anyone who could pull that thing off, it was definitely Jason with his 6.0 ft height and 225 Ibs weight.

Imagine the heart attack Bruce would get if it was tiny Damian with such skills…….

“Is she what Bruce?” Dick teased “come on, say it… you can do this….”

“Is she…..a werewolf?” Bruce hissed through clenched teeth.

“Good job, Bruce!” Dick laughed

“She is.” Tim answered, trying to mitigate the situation before someone does something regretful. “A pretty one from what I heard….”

“Who is she Tim?” Bruce turned to his third adopted son.

“How would I know?!”

“You have access to all the Wayne Technology and you’re you. Don’t tell me you haven’t googled her”

“I did no such thing! That would be a gravy invasion of privacy!” Tim made an innocent face that no one bought.

“Hm.”

“What?! I’m serious. You can’t just go and spy on people….werewolves… whatever. “ Tim said it with so much belief that Dick couldn’t help it and burst out laughing.

“Dick.”

“I’m not sorry Bruce. You’re definitely wasting your comedian and acting talent, Tim.”

“I’m being serious. She’s just a girl. A girl who turns into a giant animal every full moon and then sometimes…. It’s not her fault she imprinted Jason…. I won’t be searching for that poor unfortunate soul.”

“Imprinted?” Damian and Bruce asked in unison.

“No.” Dick says sternly. “Just no.”

“But…..”

“You’re too young to hear about it Damian.”

“I’m 11 years old, Grayson!”

“Precisely my point.”

“You will tell me everything……” Damian reached for his katana, but before he could actually do something, Bruce held him back by the cape. “Let me go father…… this is humiliating….”

“You will now go to your room Damian.”

“But….’

“I got some things I need to discuss with your brothers.”

And with those words and Bruce stern expression Dick and Tim knew. They were toasted.

***

 Regardless of what was happening in the batcave, Jason couldn’t care less. He was in fact meeting Y/N, but to say she was his girlfriend or that he imprinted her would be too much. There was something happening between them, but they never really put a tag on it. Besides, the whole concept of finding your soulmate just by looking at them was a false ideology blown by movies like Twilight and Jason scoffed (both internally and externally) every time one of his siblings (or honestly anyone) came as close as even suggesting it.

They felt good with each other, sure, but neither of them were fully convinced whether it was because of the fact that there weren’t really that much werewolves in Gotham and it was nice to have someone to go through the same struggles or whether they liked each other as humans.

Not that they had many opportunities to see one another in that shape.

Werewolf form was… comfortable. It was easier to hide oneself in all that fur and muscle and avoid unnecessary emotions. Being human meant vulnerability, awkwardness and too many words and feelings.

And Jason was not good with feelings. And, to say the truth, he never trusted them.  He was rather used to teasing, deflecting and covering that side with snarky, harsh humor.

At least until he met Y/N.

She was working at the little bakery in Gotham. The only bakery. Maybe that was why it was so easy for Jason to figure out her true identity.

It was not even a challenge considering the fact that as a human, she was always covered in flour and her wolf fur was a mix of tawny and white, almost as if someone sprinkled that ingredient all over her. And what was more, her signature dish was an apple tart with flavoring, and she always smelled of cinnamon. And wolf senses never fails, especially when it comes to nose.

What he didn’t realize what that Y/N was not only a simple baker girl.  And it was amazing what a smart head could do with the access to the Internet and some dot connecting.

Let me repeat: there weren’t many werewolves in Gotham.

For months it was their tradition to meet at the meadow on the outskirts of town to run together or hunt together or just do anything together. He used to swing by her place by the end of her shift, always as a wolf and let her tag along (of course he was not going to admit that he wanted her company. He was an alpha after all. ). So the surprise he felt one day when he showed up at the bakery seeing her as human, not ready for the unwinding was beyond words.

She was just sitting on the threshold of the shop, reading a book, but it was pretty obvious there was something going on in her mind. Again: wolf senses never fails and he could literally smell how distracted she was.

“I know who you are.” She simply said looking straight into his animal eyes.

Jason shook his wolf head. She couldn’t …….

“Jason Todd….”

Whoops.

“Wasn’t really hard to figure.” She shrugs. “You should cut on smoking it’s not good for your health and you reek of cigarettes.” It might have been the first time since they knew each other that he heard her laughing.

The way she acted was… doing something to him. For the hell of it he couldn’t figure why that light reproach made him feel…. Guilty. Chastened. Maybe it was unfair. He knew her identity, maybe he should have told her sooner? It was actually pretty funny that a giant, predatory animal let out a whimper and hung his head in shame in front of a girl, so much smaller than him. It was like at that moment, she got some power over him. A beta!

“Can I?” she asked reaching her hand for his fur and holding back before touching it. Only when he nodded, she tangled her fingers it his silky pelage. “It’s ok, Jason. I know it’s hard to reveal yourself…. Been there, done that… But you’re not alone anymore.” She cooed, caressing his back lightly. “We’re the same kind…..”

In any other circumstances, he would never let anyone touch him like this. But she was… different. The way she talked and comforted him… but surely it was only because of the wolf in her calling to the wolf in him. Kind of a “species relationship”, nothing more.

Definitely nothing more……

So why did he felt the sudden urge to nuzzle her and actually acted on it?

Just a species relationship……

It was month ago and their acquaintance developed.

He learnt that while being a little messy human in her wolf form Y/N was full of grace and gentleness. Acting like one of the Aristocats, even if the werewolves were in fact.. dogs. When she was hunting it was never bloody. She always took care to be clean of the mud, to avoid unnecessary dirt and to choose the nice paths to run in the woods. Each and every of her move were careful, thoughtful and intentional.

Absolutely opposite of Jason who was the perfect definition of running wild and free. But even with her queen-ish attitude she never complained. And he really appreciated that, since Y/N was so different from all the members of his family, who were constantly trying to shape him, tell him what, how, why and when to do (or nor).

With her… he could just be himself.

Just a species relationship.

And after a long night of patrolling he was searching for that freedom he felt with her.

Just like he was doing at that point, escaping the batcave, leaving Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian and all his Red Hood shit behind, running to the bakery just to spend some time with that beta.

It was purely coincidental that of late she’s been working night shifts, finishing in the very early morning. Her boss found out about the little ailment of her which was hypersensitivity to light. To put it simply, working during the day was nearly impossible for her since she was becoming half-blind, getting clumsy and ashamed of said incapability. But still, she was the best employee, letting her go was not an option, hence the work schedule alteration.

Pretty lucky work schedule alteration.

Pretty lucky work schedule alteration that gave them opportunity to spend some more time together.

But still it was just the species relationship.

Nothing more.    

And his wolf heart definitely did not start beating faster when he saw her turned into that majestic animal, waving her tail awaiting his arrival.  When she senses him approaching she tilted her head playfully, imitating the way she used to do as human when something got her attention and her eyes sparkled.

Jason let out a single howl as a form of greeting. Of course, he had to show off. He was an alpha and had to underline his presence and position. And it scaring the shit out of Y/N’s coworkers came in pair with that, he was more than willing to tease those people a bit. Even if his werewolf female friend shook her head in disapproval and was definitely going to tell him off later.

He knew better. He knew she liked him being like this and her every action was only proving that theory.

However, at the moment they were just looking into each other’s eyes. Two giant animals in the middle of the city, lost in the connection they had. Just a for a second though, because Jason got a bit scared of what Y/N may see in his mind if they were standing like that for too long and started running, signaling her to follow him. 

She just couldn’t ignore the calling of an alpha. Her alpha. It was too strong to disobey so she followed right after him, keeping safe distance to avoid getting hit with the dust he raised. She was a lady after all.

Soon enough, with their speed, they reached the meadow in the forest. Their spot. Their place for relaxation and sleeping after a hard day (night) of work.

Jason just tumbled to the ground not having a care in the world, but Y/N took a few turns to make a proper place for herself and settle down. The sun was about to raise and she needed a spot in the shadows to avoid extensive exposure. Even  if in her wolf form she wasn’t really prone to the light sensitivity, it was a bit of a habit now. Not every human instinct was turned off during transformation.

Unfortunately, the place she choose was too far from Jason for his liking as he raised onto his paws and moved closer to her, laying close enough that if they were humans they would be cuddling. And this time she couldn’t care less about his dirty, messed up fur.

It was Jason.

It was her alpha.

And she was the part of the pack. She had to obey.

Obviously only because of that she let him approach her and lay his head next to her, their noses almost touching, their tails waging happily at the presence and warmth of one another.

Only because of that she felt comfortable and safe enough to close up her eyes and enjoy that fuzzy feeling inside her. 

Only because of that she let him shift his position slightly so that he laid in a way that would give her additional protection from the light. Just in case.

Only because of the pack thing they let their guards down, slowly drifting off to sleep, away from all the people, away from reality, lost in one another. Protected by one another .  

Species relationship, my ass.