BYE BYE, MISS AMERICAN PIE || JASON TODD X WIFE!READER

BYE BYE, MISS AMERICAN PIE || JASON TODD X WIFE!READER

MASTERLIST || CHAPTER FOUR : GUESS OUR QUESTIONS ARE HIDDEN SECRETS THEMSELVES.

SUMMARY: it takes a toll on jason to find nothing about joker’s target on his wife’s life. y/n struggles to come to terms if she is with child or not, the topic of children is brought up once again.

PAIRING: JASON TODD X FEM!READER, DAMIAN WAYNE, BRUCE WAYNE, DICK GRAYSON, TIM DRAKE

WARNING: CURSING, MENTIONS OF STALKING, TORTURE JUST A LITTLE I GUESS??,

previously || next

UH OH, LOOKS LIKE THE SECRET IS OUT!

NOW HOW WILL YOU HIDE HER?

YOU CAN’T, THEY ARE ALWAYS A STEP FORWARD.

“you’re wife?” “yes…my wife”

DICK, has asked that question at least ten times. he was doubting his little brother. mean, he just never expected for his brother settle down. everyone expects for the eldest in the family to have a family by now. don’t get him wrong he is happy for jaybird. but how in the hell did he manage to hide this for that long? dick grayson is a fucking cop!

in the batcave stood all the brothers along with BRUCE and ALFRED who stared at jason as he explained to them of his marriage with his wife. speaking of his wife, sat in the big chair that bruce would sit whenever he was searching or whatever Batman duties. and in that chair, y/n spun herself. it twirled quick for her liking. acting like she had not being vomiting her guts out an hour ago, y/n pushes herself by her foot. spinning in her father in-laws chair.

just a few inches away from her was ginger lazily playing with titus, DAMIAN’S cute dog who already had gotten attached to her baby. the pup playfully bites Titus who remained laying on his side unbothered by the behavior. jason bored, stared at his brother. “…you’re wife?”, dick asks once more. his patience was wearing thin right now.

“for fuck sake, yes his wife dick! we get it!”, tim scrolls in wearing his red robin costume just looking as much irritated as jason.

TIM DRAKE, third robin of the bat family. in his hands was a cup of coffee and some files in the other. dick dramatically throws his hands in the air pointing at jason who still stared at him, “I- come on tim! you have to admit you didn’t expect jason to be married”. tim sighed, no offense but he didn’t really care. he was happy for jason but not when his sister in-law is in danger. some people may forget, him and jay share common things. both smart, taken in by bruce, became robin…and joker.

there it was. that one, little big spot on the huge trauma in their minds and soul. joker. that clown-fuck both gave them heartbreaking trauma. both of them have the right to struggle and want to kill him.

“look as much as I-“ tim gets cut off by bruce who steps forward “we have more important matters in our hands now. a family member is in danger. y/n…”

at the mention of her name, y/n stops spinning in the huge chair. using her foot to slowly spin and look at the rest of everybody. she perked up seeing bruce looking at her. humming in response she sat quietly in her seat. “do you have anybody who would know of your relationship with Jason? someone who would know he is red hood?”, bruce starts to question his daughter in-law. thinking to herself for a moment, y/n shakes her head. “no one, i don’t really talk to anybody nor have close friendships beside jason”, she explains. tim sets down his cup of coffee next to y/n and walks over to bruce handing his the cream colored files.

“certainly isn’t anybody she knows. looks like joker has been watching jason for a while now”, tim states telling everybody his theory. opening the cream files to find street cameras of different men that was clear they were jokers men following jason or in the corners watching. hearing tim’s words, jason was quick to walk over to where bruce stood. himself grabbing the pictures in his hands, growing more and more worried as he sees the angles and how close all of them were to him. jason, got sloppy.

tim had his hands on his hips just above his belt, “now if we want to keep going and see what joker’s next plan is, I suggest we wake up and talk to clown junior” he suggests.

“clown junior?”, dick asks with his eyebrows raised at the dumb nickname tim gave joker’s henchman. “more like the poltergeist toy clown”, he says.

bruce than flips to the photos him and dick had taken at the scene from earlier of last night. taking his moment to look at it, bruce hands it to jason who gladly held it in his hands. “what is this?”, jay questions his father. “where you should of been that night if you answered your phone”, bruce says slightly coldly. and upon jason’s view, is a huge photo of y/n’s face on a building. joker left his message loud and clear for him specifically. jason took a minute, analyzing and skimming around at the message. he breathes through his nose shakily. y/n sees jason’s changed behavior, her eyes consist of concern. “jay? what is it?”, she asks him getting up from the comfy chair and walks over to him.

jason shakes his head hiding the evidence holding it close to his chest. “no”, he repeats stepping back away from his wife. y/n stops in her tracks, “why not? let me see jay”, she insists. stubborn as he is, jason refuses to show her the pictures. bruce steps in, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you have to show her son…”, he tries to reason with him.

“no no he knows bruce”, he grits his teeth sending his father a glare.

y/n crosses her arms firmly switching her attention between both jason and bruce. “okay we get it he knows, let me see the damn photo”, she hisses snatching the photo out of jason’s hand catching his off guard.

it was her turn to see what the fuss was about. freezing completely, her face stared right back at her through the photo. joker’s message made her skin crawl. goosebumps creep along her arm. beside her, y/n could hear jason ask tim if there was anything or any clues. “how the fuck does he know?”, she asks the room. all of them turned towards her, “it could be when they followed jason is what im guessing” tim says.

disagreeing with what tim had said jason shakes his head pointing right at the photos in his hands. “there is no way in hell he could know, I was always careful”, jason says with anger in his voice.

what sounds like a scoff coming from the farther right of the cave is damian carrying treats in his hands. his typical scowling look he always wore, “not careful enough”. a warning of ‘Damian’ coming from bruce who gave him a look. the robin shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “if you were really careful, he wouldn’t of been able to find you and l/n”, he says what sounds truthfully to himself.

ready to go and get up in damian’s space, jason threw the evidence on the floor angrily stomping over to him. till dick was quick enough to step in between them with jason looking like he wanted to rip someone in half and damian looked unfazed. “woah woah before, you two start fighting. i think, personally, it’s not Jason’s fault. two, enough with the blaming damian…right now we need to think fast just like tim said”, he tries to reason already wanting to just skip to the plan. y/n tears her eyes away from the haunting photo. her attention onto her brother in-laws and jason. “he’s right. before we know it he could know where I am, so might as well get started and interview that clown asshole”.

jason sighs, knowing she was right. stepping away from dick and damian, he looks to y/n than to bruce. “so? what’s the plan?”, he questions him.

below a dimmed light sits joker’s henchman still unconscious. his hands wrapped tightly behind him with rope along his stomach and feet around a chair. the clown masked man’s head lolls forward, his body feeling as if it was the most comfortable position ever. a strong welled fist hits him square and straight on his cheek. the hit was hard enough to awaken up brutally. he groans, head pushes back in the chair. he felt dazed and lightheaded. his spit pooled under his mask, blood mixed in. looking around where he was, his vision slightly blurred. but he could see that he was in a clear glass box, with no doors just empty. “wha-what? where the fuck am I?”, he questions confused.

and just behind him, was jason dressed as red hood. on the outside he looked cool and collected, but in the inside..he was fuming. “hey! what the f-“, he yells out in fear. a cold metal presses against his temple causing him to quieten feeling the familiar touch of a gun. the man could hear an robotic voice breathes deeply beside his ear. “shut up”, jason says with venom in his voice.

jason could feel him practically soiling his pants. it didn’t take long for the henchman to realize who was behind me right now. everyone knows who red hood is. and boy, does everyone shit their pants more than seeing batman himself.

“now, if you cooperate I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt as much. and if you don’t, a bullet will be in your fucking head”, jason darkly says.

not far from where he was holding the man in the glass cell was everyone in another part of the cave watching on the monitor. y/n watched with anxiety making a pit in her stomach nibbling on her fingers. she may be married to jason, but doesn’t mean she had yet to really see RED HOOD himself. it was odd to see knowing how jason is without the attire. of course they are different. but doesn’t mean she was afraid of him. beside her, was dick, bruce and damian in their costumes watching on as jason interrogates the henchman.

and for dick, he felt hesitant to let this go on. if that man says one wrong thing, who knows what jason would pick. torture him immensely or kill him. and that’s what dick doesn’t want him to do nor bruce. damian, we’ll be certainly wouldn’t mind either. and tim who stood off to the side looking through papers and files taking a fair share of coffee sips.

“this is a bad idea”, y/n says eyes still glued onto the screen.

a small sigh of agreement from dick who had his arms crossed, “agreed”.

“are you sure todd is the right person for this interrogation father?”, damian asks bruce. the batman himself stayed quiet.

jason rounds in a small circle around the tied up man before standing in front of him. his tall and muscular figure blocking his whole vision. his blank stare of his helmet looks down at him. “so, why the woman?”.

the clown mask stares back at him, echoes of laughter filling his ears. “i-i don’t know”, he says. SMACK! head now turned to the right from the bruising punch he just received.

“fuck! what the fu-“, a hand grips onto the man’s shirt. the grip was tight and angry, pulling him forward the robes rubbed against bare skin. a shaky breath upon being face to face with the vigilante. “no. you do know. don’t fuck with me now or you’re dead”.

“please! I don’t know alright! he wouldn’t tell us- AHHH!”, BANG! a wounded hole in the man’s thigh, blood squirts out spraying the floor and the man’s shirt. his leg shakes from the intense pain. almost zombish, jason stared down at the withering man. no single remorse. criminals like this were always so stupid. “what part of don’t fuck with me now did you not understand sweet tooth?”, jason snarks with the gun in his hand.

“it’s a twisted metal reference”, y/n tells everyone in the room. feeling glad she got her husband’s somewhat funny joke. only to be met with silence, mostly because no one understood what she was talking about. her lips going into a tight smile shrinking behind bruce’s chair.

his other unoccupied hand reaches behind him from his pocket, pulling out a crumbled photo. unfolding it and smoothing it out nicely jason holds it up in front of joker’s henchman, lightly dangling it. “now…why her? and why does joker want her?”, he breathes out pointing at a photo of y/n. the man whimpered, his loosened breathing turns into hyperventilating quick. the chair squeaks under the weight. brown eyes stare back into the whites of red hood’s helmet, they looked dead to him. the clown mask moves shaking back and forth, “he, he said something about robin. said robin found himself an ‘Apple pie’ life. I-I- don’t know what he meant by that”.

bingo.

jason steps forward with the photo still dangled in front of him, “what else?”.

the man cowers fearfully in his chair shaking like a scared chihuahua. “um I- something about having some fun with her. he mentioned-“ he takes a hardy gulp “that he’s been watching you for a while now. look,I don’t know his full plans man!”, he rambled. it wasn’t good enough for jason.

the feeling of frustration creeps inside jason, knowing that this asshole knows more to the story and what joker is planning. “you’re lying, if you won’t tell me ill fucking kill you right now”, jason says trying to keep himself calm with a clench of his jaw. the man freezes, whether it be from he got caught lying and trying to cover up for his ‘boss’ or the fact his life was threatened by the hands of Gotham’s most feared vigilante. he stared back at the white eyes of the helmet, behind him whether his hands are tied he grips onto the rope. “please I said I don’t know! I swear! the only people who do know is the other guys! please don’t kill me!”, he pleads more.

blood pours thickly from his wound spilling onto the once cleaned floor that alfred had cleaned up.

a blank stare. no spoken words. just silence. jason stands up straight, staring down at the man for about ten seconds before gripping onto the photo of his wife and clutching it into a fist. the now ruined photo bloodied as jason laid more hits on the man’s face over and over. from his face, stomach, chest, legs. and what gave jason the satisfaction was the pain the man let out when jason dug the end of his gun inside of his gunshot wound on his thigh.

it dug deeper and deeper. bits of flesh and blood spills out as the end of his gun dug it’s way inside.

restrained arms and legs shaken from the torturing pain, his screams pierced the entire cell. everyone else could hear them without the monitors. from under that clown mask was his saliva and drool pooling out from his screams. “please! I don-“, he gets cut off once jason firmly pressed his gun inside hitting the bone of his thigh. the continued screams leaving jason unfazed all the while y/n watched in horror. her eyes widened in shock, cringing at the sounds of flesh and blood spilling. she wanted to look away, but the curiosity is what made her stay. it scared her for sure yes.

tim did his very best to not look at the screen feeling it was better to just pretend nothing was going on and read the files gordon had sent over. dick, well he was doing the same what y/n was doing. watching in horror and cringing with closed eyes. “okay pull him out”, dick says to bruce.

“no”, he says.

dick looks at bruce with widened eyes pointing at the screen of jason torturing the bastard. “do you see this? he’s going to kill him bruce!”, now gesturing to y/n who turned away from the monitor back facing it. “you see?! even his wife can’t look at this now pull him out!”, he yells out.

if you think that was worse of what jason’s torturing was, well, not until jason pulled out his gun from the man’s thigh…slowly. jason could see flashbacks when he was being tortured himself by joker.

god, the pain…may not be compared to this shit.

but doesn’t beat the torture for hours.

without even a second thinking, jason stopped his gun only leaving a few inches inside of the thigh. before firing once more, deep in the bone. going through. the most blood watering scream jason had ever heard in a while. “you son of a bitch!”, the man screams out taking heaved breathes along pained whimpers looking down at the bleeding wound.

“not really, she was an addict though”, jason says nonchalantly.

his gun moves away from the now bullet-holed leg and onto the clown masked man’s forehead. brown eyes stare deep into the hole on the gun, he tenses in seeing it. “any last words sweet tooth?”, jason says ready to fire.

“fuck you, you motherfucke-“

and ready he was. ready to kill this asshole and be done with it. only for bruce’s voice to rang through his helmet. “jason. don’t.”

pausing, he thinks back to all the times bruce would tell him he’s too reckless. to this. to that. “yea well I don’t care what you say”, jason muttered. back to wanting to kill this clown asshole, bruce says once last thing that did make jason stop from killing this man. “it’s y/n…”

fuck, he had forgotten that she was also watching from the cameras and sees the horrors jason had done. something he forbade her from seeing this side of him. jason stared at the man, who let out gurgling what sounds to be blood and spit. gritting his teeth, he lowered the gun. breathing through his nose, he slowly placed his red stained gun back into his holster. already walking backwards still staring at the man.

a chuckle, a chuckle of stained amusement and blood. breathing was ragged and rough from the screaming of torture. “knew you were always chicken-shit. joker will get your girl. don’t know why but she sure is a pretty little thang”, he taunts jason. stopping his backing away to the cell doors, jason stops of hearing the disgusting remark about his wife. the man lets out laughter, almost sounded like his.

“that’s right…we know she’s your girl. say hi to her for me”, he proceeds to taunt him more and more.

now, from what he didn’t expect was for THE RED HOOD, to knock him out completely. losing consciousness once more. it didn’t take long for jason to attack him. not really. he beats the henchman, one, two, three, four and five hits in jason steps back. rage full breathes and grunts, his fist was freshly bruised along bloodied. god, he hated the smell of it. he steps away from the battered up man before stomping off with heavy boots. the cell doors open willingly before closing off, sealed off once jason leaves.

the bat cave was silent.

heavy tension filled the cave with some screeches from above from the bats that hung sleeping peacefully. all of them were waiting on jason to arrive, expect for y/n and ginger. bruce still sat at his chair, dick was leaning against the monitor table, damian and tim just looked at each other from the awkwardness in the room. and once jason arrived where his family stood, he noticed the lack of presence of his wife. bloodied hands reaches up open his helmet, a sharp hiss is heard. jason takes off the helmet throwing it on the table looking at his brothers. “where’s y/n”, he asks them.

he awaits for an answer only to hear once again, silence. his frustration and impatience grew, “where’s y/n?”, jason pesters on. dick looked up at jason with slight disappointment, something he grew to know. a gloved hand slams on the table, booming through the cave walls.

“GODDAMIT WHERE’S MY WIFE?!”, he yells out.

seeing as though no one would answer his brother, dick steps forward with his arms still crossed. a look of disappointment and sadness. “jay…”, he tries to tell him. the look he saw on y/n’s face. the bloodthirsty feel radiating from jason. jason points a finger at dick taking a threatening step forward, “enough of this shit richard, I wanna know where my wife is”.

the sudden use of his full name made dick raise an eyebrow at him. “okay no use for using my real name jay, she’s-“

“upstairs”, he hears alfred’s voice says standing on the long stairs. the older man’s posture was tall and more poise than ever. “might i suggest master jason, that you change out of your suit and comfort you’re wife…immediately”, he sternly says. in his eyes were more strict than jason had ever seen. turning his back from everyone, alfred goes back inside of the manor leaving everybody to being silent once more. comfort?

why would he…oh…

shit. was she afraid? scared of him? is that why she went upstairs? cursing under his breath taking off his suit, jason rushed off quickly to the changing room. was she mad at him? god, he doesn’t know.

and when he changes out of his suit and into more comfortable wearing, the blood stained hands of his catches his eye. he runs a finger across the bruises and the dried up blood. quickly, jason runs to the sink. turning it on, he runs his hands under the water. letting the pure water kiss his hands and clean them off. he doesn’t use soap or anything. just water.

thinking to himself, he lost control. he knows it. he was so, angry. memories over flowing him and his senses. scared, for what the futures of him and his wife. all because of what? he doesn’t know. and his wife…is scared of him.

he’s lost control multiple times. from strong emotions he couldn’t handle. and could you blame him? and all those times he didn’t want his wife to see that side of him. that’s why he always kept that part of his life hidden. jason never brought up anything vigilante related to her when he came home. he separated that part of him. and now, all of it is coming down onto her. and he couldn’t help but feel..like a terrible husband.

what felt like a thousand times to her of constantly wanting and feeling of vomiting for the entirety of the day, y/n was back to being hunched over the toilet. this time being her in-laws house and bathroom. in the bathroom, y/n felt like a wave of heat again washing over her. by the door that was certainly shut, ginger has her nose wiggling from the small slit under the door. a small whine in protest. though y/n was more busy throwing up and gagging. she didn’t know if it was whether because of seeing jason so brutally hurt someone or what could potentially be a bun in the oven. if it was both, god help her.

y/n has never seen jason act so…violent..ever. maybe from nightmares but from it going as far as hurting another human being ? no..she hasn’t. it was her fault. for staying and watching. and her fault for forgetting her husband is red hood. literally the man who delivered freshly cut heads as a message when he first arrived as the famous red helmeted vigilante.

and it’s her fault, for letting a bun in the oven happen. even though it takes two for one to be made. a promise her and jason had made in which they weren’t sure or even ready to be parents. with pasts of unstable parents and too afraid they both would end up being horrible parents. a cycle they wouldn’t want to repeat for themselves and their children. there was a few times y/n would think about if they did have any kids. a mini jason…would be adorable. the times she would just melt whenever jason and her go to the homeless shelter and help around and see him interact with the kids there…she could picture a kid running around.

jason was naturally good with children, and children and babies could sense when someone has a pure heart.

she’ll never forget when they had volunteered to help at a women’s homeless shelter, the one they would always go to, a woman just handed her baby to jason. and willingly he watched over the cute baby. no one looked at him with such innocence as the baby did. the baby stared at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. and y/n could see that he melted at the sight as well. but remembering the discussion her and jay had before, about wanting children, made her remember where she currently stands. with her life at the hands who murdered her husband years ago. but as much as she would love to start a family…it was too risky. too dangerous. and well, look where she is right now.

y/n shivered at the thought. she just wants all of this to end and go back to normal again. where they should of been. but no, none of that was going to happen. a gentle knock against the door breaks her out of her little thought bubble, still leaning against the toilet. “im fine alfred!”, she yells out flushing the toilet. watching the puke drain away, the bathroom door handle turns. revealing who was behind that door was jason.

“hey…”, he greets her lowly.

his head was down in shame as he approaches his wife. y/n looks at him, her attention onto jason’s bruises up hands that once were covered in blood. she stayed quiet, hopping up slowly to close the toilet bowl with the lid. sitting on it, y/n crossed her legs looking down at her feet. jason sighs seeing his wife not looking at him. he knows he had messed up. not messed up but fucked up. jason leans down into a squat to meet his wife’s eyes. only for her to avoid them once more. “y/n…I-I’m sorry, that I scared you back there. I just..I lost control..I was just so angry and-“, jason suddenly gets cut off. shaking her head, she finally looks up at him with tears in her eyes.

“you didn’t scare me jay…well I mean you did but I just- oh I don’t know”, she says running a hand through her hair feeling unknown to her feelings right now. her mind was all over the place.

jason shifts closer to her by his feet, placing a hand on her knee. just by looking at her closely he could see how pale she looks and more tired. but more importantly, distressed. “what’s wrong?”, he was quick to ask her. y/n chuckles at the question, her hand slaps against jason’s tilting her head up to the bathroom ceiling. and what was wrong? that fact all of this chaos is happening or just the downright fear of having a child inside of her.

she wasn’t sure of course. she just felt…unsure about everything. stressful it was. “I don’t know. I just don’t know what’s wrong”, she whispers biting her lip at the end. leaning her head back down to look at jason in the eyes. she could see the bits of worry and concern in them. the thumb on her knee provides her some sort of comfort. even though that comfort wasn’t really helping as of right now. “all of this…is too much right now jay”, she says to him.

“I know..I know..and I’m sorry. just I know there is something wrong right now and I want to fix that”, jason pleads shifting more closer and closer to his wife who leaned into his warm touch. “I know that jay..it’s just-“, she cuts herself off unsure if she should even say anything. his eyebrows furrowed, grasping on her hand into his. he gives her a look to continue in what she was saying. a slight encouragement of him pressing a kiss on her hand just now. his warm soft lips against her hand.

y/n sighed.

she shuts her eyes, taking a deep breath. the thought of a potential family running through her mind right now. subconsciously, her ringed hand reaches up touching her covered stomach. y/n opens her eyes looking down at jason’s soft dark blue eyes.

“how do you still feel, about having a baby?”

UH OH! A BABY?

LOOKS LIKE YOU SHOULD OF KEEP SH SH ABOUT IT!

WHO KNOWS? MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE.

CAUSE HE’LL KNOW NOW.

OR WILL HE?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi my loves! binx here! it’s july! wow, omg. now I’ll be honest, last month went by pretty fast which is nuts. so hopefully fall comes soon! than I could make some spooky Halloween jason todd x reader! ALSO! ALERT ALERT! i have some new upcoming stories! I will be releasing some sneak peeks somewhere this week so keep an eye out! now I do hope you all enjoy this chapter, sorry if it seems short! but if you wish to be tagged let me know!

BINX

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE TALK(S)

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SUMMARY ↳ You get some insight from some friends. And not friends. It's you. Despite everything, it's been you. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none wc: 3.5k

New York welcomes Spinnerette back with open arms.

Several articles span over night, questioning the disappearance and sudden return. They’ll have to keep questioning, because there will be no official statement from you. You’re Spinnerette, not Tony Stark, aka Iron Man.

One of the first things you do is go pick up your order at Delmar’s. It’s been far too long since you’ve tasted heaven.

Pepper comes up with a simple cover story as to why [Name] [L.Name] was gone from public eye. It’s elegant in its simplicity: during the time [Name] [L.Name] was absent from the public eye, they were undertaking an extended philanthropic research expedition abroad, focusing on humanitarian efforts and technological research in developing countries  in order to prepare for when they eventually take over as CEO to Stark Industries.

Delmar doesn’t ask too many questions, anyway. He only says how he’s glad you’re back and gives you your order.

You happily munch on it as you watch New York’s sunset. The view from Avengers Tower is always nice. It casts a warm, golden glow over the skyline, a picturesque reminder of why you love this city so much. The gentle breeze carries the distant sounds of traffic.

“Why are you having these thoughts?”

Wanda’s voice is soft but perceptive, her presence a comforting familiarity. She moves gracefully, even in her casual pajamas, and joins you by the edge, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

“What thoughts?” you ask, knowing it’s futile. You can try and pretend all you want, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Even without Wanda’s powers, she could’ve easily figured you out.

Wanda turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. “You know exactly what thoughts,” she says gently.

You sigh, taking another bite of your sandwich, buying yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. The flavors are as delightful as you remembered, but they do little to distract from the weight of Wanda’s words.

The sky turns darker, with the sun sinking lower, casting long shadows across the city. Wanda waits patiently, her gaze never leaving you. The silence stretches, comfortable and familiar, but charged with unspoken words.

"I missed this place," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I missed the people, the energy... but…" you hesitate, unsure if you want to voice the thoughts swirling in your mind.

Wanda reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's okay to feel conflicted," she says softly. "You’ve been through much. It's natural to question things."

You nod slowly, absorbing Wanda's words. The city below seems to hum with a life of its own, oblivious to the inner turmoil tugging at your thoughts. You take another bite of your sandwich.

"I guess I just didn't expect everything to feel so... different," you admit quietly, gazing out at the skyline. "I thought coming back would be like slipping into an old pair of shoes, but it's more like trying to break in new ones. I got so used to life over there.”

Wanda nods, humming. Her expression softens, voice gentle. “Jon. And Damian,” she echoes softly. “They’ve been on your mind since you came back.” You nod slowly, acknowledging Wanda's insight. Her ability to grasp the complexities of your thoughts is both comforting and unnerving at times.

"Yeah," you admit, a faint smile touching your lips. "They have." You pause, considering how much to share. "It's like... being torn between two worlds," you continue, your gaze drifting back to the skyline where the last vestiges of daylight paint the buildings in shades of amber. "I've grown close to them in ways I didn't anticipate. Jon's warmth and openness, Damian's... well, his complexities," you chuckle softly.

Wanda listens intently, her presence a calming presence amidst the bustling cityscape. "It sounds like they've left quite an impression," she remarks softly, eyeing your bracelet.

"They have," you affirm, a hint of wistfulness in your tone. "And now, being back here, it's like I'm standing at a crossroads, unsure where to go."

Wanda's eyes are filled with empathy. "Sometimes, the heart knows things before the mind can make sense of them.”

You look at her. "I remember when Vision and I were navigating similar feelings," Wanda begins softly, her voice carrying a nostalgic undertone. "He was... different, not just because of what he was, but because of how he made me feel." Her gaze drifts to the skyline, memories playing across her features like shadows dancing in the fading light.

"It was challenging, trying to reconcile our differences and the worlds we came from," she continues, her tone thoughtful. "But in the end, what mattered most was the connection we shared, the understanding that despite everything, we chose each other."

Her words resonate with you, echoing your own internal struggles. "Did it ever get easier?" you ask quietly, seeking reassurance in her experience.

Wanda smiles softly, expression tinged with fondness. "Not easier, but... clearer," she replies, her gaze returning to meet yours. "Love has a way of guiding us through uncertainty, showing us what truly matters." You don’t know about love exactly, but maybe…

"It's like they've opened doors I didn't even know were there," you confess, a sense of revelation settling over you. "And now, I'm standing here, wondering which ones I should go through.”

Wanda nods understandingly, a soothing presence in the midst of your introspection. "The paths we choose often define us," she muses softly. "But sometimes, it's not about choosing one thing over another, but finding a way to integrate both into who you are."

“What would we do without you, Wanda?” you say in lieu of thanks.

She returns your smile warmly. "Anytime."

With a final glance at the city below, you finish your sandwich, savoring the flavors that remind you of home. Whatever lies ahead, you know you'll face it head on.

You find Tony tinkering away in his lab (because where else would he be?) He looks up as you enter, a small grin spreading across his face. “Pass me that wrench, will you?” You pass Tony the wrench, settling into a comfortable silence as he continues his work. The hum of machinery and occasional sparks fill the air, a familiar backdrop to your thoughts.

Tony mumbles lightly, adjusting a few components on his latest project. "Pepper told me about the cover story," he mentions casually. "Philanthropic research expedition, huh? Not bad."

You chuckle softly. "Pepper has a knack for making things sound believable," you comment, recalling how she effortlessly crafted the narrative to explain your absence.

Tony grins mischievously. "She's got a way with words," he agrees, his gaze flicking back to his work. "So, how was it, really? Did you make friends with Superman?”

“No, I made friends with his son,” you jest.

“Well, of course you did,” he nods seriously. “You have a certain effect on people.”

You place your arms on his desk, leaning. “You know, you were my dad there.”

Tony looks up, eyes boring into yours. For a moment it’s silent. “Made up an identity for myself. Had to, of course. Listed you as my rich dad who was on vacation and had left little ole me all by myself.”

"Ah, playing the absent but wealthy father role, I see. I hope I lived up to your expectations as the neglectful billionaire." He leans back, crossing his arms with mock seriousness. “Though a vacation does sound nice.”

You grin. "They bought it though, surprisingly enough. I think they were more curious about figuring out if I’m Spinnerette or not than my supposed absent father." You lean back. “They did, by the way. But it all worked out.”

Tony chuckles, a hint of pride in his expression. "Well, that's my kid—always keeping them guessing."

“You’ll also be pleased to know that I did a "Tony Stark" while I was there,” you grin, coming up next to him.

“That’s not good.”

“I remade your new element.”

Tony raises a brow, but doesn’t look all that surprised. “You’re becoming just like me. Pepper won’t like that.”

“I was gonna use it to power my way home, put it in my watch somehow, but I didn’t get to use it,” you shrug. “Figure it’ll help their world, anyhow. The blueprints you left in the suit really helped.”

“Gotta take care of my own,” he shrugs.

You smile, the warmth of familiarity easing the lingering tensions from earlier introspection. "You did," you reply sincerely, a fondness in your voice. "It was... comforting, having you there in spirit."

As you watch Tony continue his tinkering, a thought tugs at your mind. You take a deep breath  "Tony, can I ask you something?" you venture, breaking the silence.

"Shoot," he replies, not looking up from his work but clearly attentive.

"How do you know when you're ready to make a decision that could change everything?" you ask, your voice laced with uncertainty.

Tony looks up from his workbench, his expression thoughtful. He sets down his tools and turns to face you fully, his gaze assessing yet warm.

"You're asking the big questions, aren't you?" Tony remarks, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Decision-making is a blend of gut instinct, logic, and experience. You weigh the risks, consider the consequences, but ultimately, it comes down to what feels right deep down."

You nod, absorbing his words. "But what if both paths feel right in different ways?" you press further, needing clarity on the conflict within you.

“Why should it be two paths? It could be just one.”

Oh. Hm. Guess so.

“Sometimes life’s about finding a way to blend them together, creating a new path that's uniquely yours."

You ponder his words, the gears in your mind turning as you consider the implications. "So, instead of choosing between them, I should look for how they complement each other?" you venture, seeking to clarify your thoughts.

Tony nods approvingly. "Exactly. Integration rather than separation. You're a smart cookie, kid," he says with a wink. “Trust yourself and go for it, [Name].”

His words echo Wanda's earlier sentiments, reinforcing the idea that perhaps the answers you seek lie within your own intuition. You smile gratefully at Tony, feeling a bit of the weight lift off your shoulders. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Anytime, kid.”

The two of you fall into a companionable silence, the hum of machinery and occasional banter filling the air. As Tony returns to his tinkering and you reflect on your journey, a sense of belonging washes over you, grounding you in the familiar embrace of family, wherever they may be.

Later, you leave Tony’s lab, a sense of clarity guiding your steps as you navigate through the halls of Avengers Tower. Thoughts of Jon and Damian linger in your mind, their presence like gentle echoes urging you forward.

You find yourself drawn to the training room, a sanctuary of sorts where you’ve honed your skills and found solace in the rhythm of combat. The familiar scent of sweat and metal greets you as you enter, the training mats beckoning invitingly under the soft glow of overhead lights.

You start with basic stretches, letting muscle memory guide your movements as you flow through familiar routines. Each stretch and strike brings a sense of  familiarity, a reminder of the strength and determination that brought you here.

As you spar with imaginary opponents, the echoes of Wanda’s words linger in your mind. Love, uncertainty, and the paths that lie ahead—all intertwined in a tapestry of choices and possibilities. In the midst of your training, Jon’s warmth and Damian’s complexities come into sharper focus. Their presence in your life has been unexpected yet undeniable, each offering a different perspective and a unique connection that resonates deeply within you.

You spar with renewed vigor, channeling your thoughts and emotions into each movement. The clang of fists against pads and the sound of your own breath become a cadence, a rhythmic heartbeat of determination and contemplation. Hours pass unnoticed, lost in the flow of training and introspection. By the time you finish, exhaustion mingles with a sense of satisfaction.

A week passes. You find yourself hanging out in one of the numerous lounges at Spider-HQ. You and Hobie wrangled some consoles, bean bags, fairy lights and other cozy things in (in spite of Miguel's exasperations) and dubbed this specific one yours. It's a place where you can unwind and escape the responsibilities that come with being the Spider.

Gwen, Hobie and Pav have taken to playing a ferocious game of Mario Kart. You and all your kindness have decided to help Miles with his Spanish homework. Miles listens attentively, occasionally interjecting with questions or sharing anecdotes about his latest escapades.

You sit down next to Miles, flipping open the textbook with a grin. "Alright, buckle up Miles.. ¿Listo? you ask cheerfully, ready to dive into the conjugations and vocabulary with him.

Miles chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, thanks for helping out with this. Spanish isn't my strongest subject."

You tsk. “Shameful.” He shoves you playfully in retaliation. As you guide Miles through the homework, laughter and banter fill the air, mingling with the sounds of Mario Kart battles and friendly debates over strategy. It's a relaxed atmosphere, a welcome break from the weightier decisions and reflections of the past week.

You sigh eventually, leaning your face into your hand. “How do you do it, Miles?”

“I don’t,” he scoffs, thinking you're referring to the Spanish. “That’s why you’re here.”

You snort, sliding away his assignment. “I mean, how is it so easy for you to just… be you?”

Miles looks at you quizzically, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Being me? It's not always easy, you know," he replies with a hint of sincerity beneath his playful tone. "But I guess I just try to focus on what matters to me, you know? Like family, friends, and doing what's right."

You nod thoughtfully, considering his words. "Yeah, I get that," you say, a small smile forming. "It's about staying true to yourself, even when things get complicated."

"Exactly!" Miles exclaims, his enthusiasm infectious. "You've got to figure out what works for you and roll with it. I mean, look at you—you've got this whole dual life thing down don’t you?”

You chuckle softly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone. "Maybe not always as smoothly as I'd like."

"But you're doing it," Miles insists, his gaze earnest. "And that's what counts. You're making it work. Just, do your own thing,” he trails off, looking at Gwen. It’s no secret that there is something going on between them.

Well, if that is testament enough, then what is?

“...There’s a first time for everything.”

Later, as the night winds down and your friends begin to disperse, you linger in the lounge for a moment of quiet contemplation. With a final glance around the room, you rise to your feet.

There is one more person you’d like to talk to.

This New York isn’t so different from your own. It looks the same, sounds the same, and feels the same. You even spot a Delmar's while you swing around. The nighttime lights blur into streaks as you move. The rhythm of your movements, the thwip of your webs, and the distant sounds of the city create a symphony of familiarity.

You land gracefully on a rooftop, taking a moment to survey the skyline. There’s an Avengers Tower, standing tall and proud in the distance, a beacon of strength. As you catch your breath, you feel a presence nearby—a silent observer, familiar and comforting.

familiar

“Never thought I’d see you here,” they hum. Coming to a stop beside. The spider symbol on their chest is the same since you last saw it. When they visited you to give you the catalyst back in the other universe.

The Spider that threw you there in the first place.

Strange times, huh?

“I guess you found your way?” they ask, fiddling with their web-shooters.

“I guess I did,” you hum. You gaze at them for a moment, the shared history and intertwined destinies palpable between you.

“So, to what do I owe the visit? Not that I’m not grateful that you’re not body-slamming me on sight, because I am.” That gets a chuckle out of you, and they seem to relax a little.

“I’m not so angry these days,” you explain. “Other things on my mind and all.”

“Fair enough,” they concede, their tone softening. They lean against the ledge beside you, their gaze fixed on the city below. “Seems like you've been through… a lot,” they observe quietly, their voice carrying a hint of understanding.

You nod. Silence settles between you, comfortable yet charged with unspoken questions. You study their profile, noticing the subtle shifts in their demeanor, the echoes of shared experiences between your worlds.

“I’m sorry,” they finally say, their voice tinged with genuine remorse. “For everything that happened back then.”

You turn to them, meeting their gaze with a mix of forgiveness and acceptance. “I know,” you reply softly, acknowledging the weight of their words. “We both made choices, good and bad. It’s... part of who we are.”

“As Spiders?” they question hands reaching up to hook under their mask.

“As Spiders,” you agree, eyes watching as their mask slips up.

It’s you.

Despite everything, it’s been you.

Your double, or perhaps you can call them your alternate counterpart, nods in understanding, their expression mirroring the mix of determination and conflict you feel within yourself.

“I’ll be damned,” you mutter as your own suit gives away to reveal your face.

“I suspected, when we had that talk. The one where you were probably gonna kill me,” they chuckle softly. “You said you were the only [Name], and it could’ve just been a dumb coincidence…”

“Dumb coincidences don’t really happen to us.”

They shake their head. “No, they don’t.”

You lean against the ledge, feeling tired all of a sudden. “So, who is it? Who captures the heart of [Name] [L.Name]? An MJ? Gwen Stacy? Black Cat?” Maybe you secretly like to suffer, and that’s why you ask.

They snort, head hanging. “Not sure who they are, but since you're asking…”

“...there’s these guys,” they grin softly, sheepishly, “named Jon and Damian.”

And your will completely gives away.

“Jon’s real sweet, complete cutie. Ball of sunshine, and really pretty eyes. Damian’s a rich piece of work, but he’s honest and loyal. Also really pretty eyes.”

You look into their eyes, wide and disbelieving. “Are they… so do… Superboy and Robin exist here?”

They look at you confused. “Batman? Superman?” you implore. “Not even.. the comics?”

They purse their lips and shake their head. “They’re just normal guys,” they mutter softly.

Your counterpart's words hang in the air, mingling with the cool breeze that sweeps across the rooftop. You can't help but laugh softly, shaking your head in disbelief. "Can’t believe it," you mutter, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m the one who isn’t normal,” they smile dryly. “They didn’t know anything about me until I got back. They were so worried sick, and I realized how much they care about me. What better time to tell them everything?”

“And it was worth telling them?”

“I love them, of course it was,” they shrug, like it’s just that simple. “They see me now, as both [Name] and Spinnerette. I wouldn’t give that for anything.”

You feel a surge of warmth and hope at their words, realizing that perhaps your own path can lead to a similar sense of acceptance and belonging. "It's good to hear that it worked out for you," you say sincerely.

Your counterpart smiles, a glimmer of understanding in their eyes. "It can work out for you too.”

You guess no one would know you better than you.

“Thanks,” is all you say.

“Anytime,” is all they say, nodding at you with a gentle smile before shooting a web swinging away into the night, disappearing amidst the glowing cityscape.

You remain on the rooftop for a while longer, lost in thought. The skyline stretches before you, a tapestry of lights and shadows that mirror the complexities of your own life. The pieces of a puzzle are slowly coming together, guiding you towards a path that feels uniquely yours.

With renewed determination, you take to the skies once more, letting the rhythm of your swings carry you forward. The night air is crisp and alive with possibility, each movement a step towards embracing yourself and your desires.

As you land on the familiar (familiar, but not yours) balcony of Avengers Tower, you take a moment to savor the view. The city stretches out beneath you, a testament to home. You made it back to a place that feels like home, where friendships and connections intertwine to create a tapestry of support and understanding.

You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. Jon and Damian are waiting for you.

“Trust yourself and go for it, [Name].”

“I’m ready,” you whisper to yourself, a quiet affirmation that echoes in the night.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

You input a location into your Web-watch.

"It can work out for you too.”

You step into the bright amalgamation of light.

notes: does that parallel i mentioned in chap 14 make sense now? lol

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: LONG AWAITED

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ When the going gets tough, you'll get going. You straighten up in your seat, feeling heat rush through your face. Damian beside you remains composed, his expression unreadable as he regards Ms. Varley with a calm demeanor. "Sorry," you squeak, quickly gathering your things and leaving. You ignore Victoria's questioning stare during ballet. You ignore Damian's heated gaze during art. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none at all wc: 3.7k

You finish the nanite chamber the day before you go back to school. The last thing you do is place some badassium and watch as the machine powers to life. The iron spider suit floats inside, a swirl of energy trailing around it.

Damian is off to the side, eyeing the thing. Jon sits crisscross in the air, hands in his lap. “What is your suit made of? I’ve never seen something like it,” observes Jon, watching the compacted suit bob up and down slowly.

Now, you know nanotech is a thing in the DC verse, but for the life of you you can’t remember what for. “No clue,” you lie, shrugging. “My dad made it. That’s all I know.”

“But you made this.” Damian gestures to the nanite chamber.

“He left blueprints for one in my suit,” you shrug.

Jon floats closer, poking the glass. “What does it do, exactly?”

“Its main purpose is to charge the suit.” You lean back, crossing your arms. “It also repairs the suit if it’s damaged, though.”

Damian eyes the chamber with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, his gaze flickering between you and the pulsating suit. "Impressive," he finally remarks, his tone guarded yet intrigued. "Your father seems to have thought of everything."

You nod, a hint of pride awakening in you. "Yeah, he's always been good with tech. I've just been following his instructions."

Jon tilts his head, looking at you thoughtfully. "Must be handy, having something like this. Does it take a lot of maintenance?"

"Not really," you reply, relaxing a bit as you explain. "The badassium is a strong power source. That's all it really needs."

Damian's expression softens slightly as he observes the suit, perhaps seeing it in a new light. "And you're sure it's safe?"

You nod confidently. "Who do you think I am? Of course.”

“Of course. You wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn't.”

You scoff, reaching out to swat at his arm. He lets you, then grabs your hand and pulls you to him. Damian's grip is firm but gentle, and you find yourself pulled into a moment of unexpected closeness. His eyes meet yours, the intensity of his gaze softened by a hint of warmth.

Jon watches with interest, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he hovers nearby. "Looks like Damian's impressed," he teases lightly.

Damian rolls his eyes but doesn't let go of your hand. "Impressed might be a stretch," he mutters, but his tone lacks its usual edge.

“I’ll take what I can get,” you grin, pulling your hand from his.

Damian releases your hand, a faint smirk crossing his face. "Don't get used to it," he says, his voice returning to its usual cool demeanor.

Jon chuckles, floating back a bit. "Damian likes smart people.”

Damian shoots Jon a glare, which Jon returns with an innocent shrug. "Can't blame him," Jon adds playfully. "You are pretty amazing."

“Aw,” you croon, reaching out to pinch Jon’s cheek. “You’re sweet.”

You catch Jon’s arms reaching out towards you, so you dodge. Alas, he is quicker, and he picks up into the air with him. Jeez, they’re touchy today.

Damian shakes his head, a faint smirk lingering on his lips as he watches the interaction between you and Jon. "You two are incorrigible," he comments, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Okay, food time,” declares Jon, carrying you out of the cave with you in his arms. Your protests are ignored. “Time for you to eat.”

Damian and Jon share a look as they leave.

Damian holds his hand out for you as you step out of the car. You think that spending time with Jon, who grew up in the country (aka where manners are automatic) has rubbed off on him. It’s still as snowy as ever, and you feel it crunch under your shoe. As you step onto the snow-covered ground, the cold air nips at your cheeks.

"Thanks," you murmur, giving his hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

Some people give you glances as the both of you walk in. They’ll be seeing the pair of you much more, since you now live with him. You just hope the news won’t catch on too quickly. You’re not all that interested in being a new “Wayne” kid.

Once inside, the warmth of the building envelops you, a stark contrast to the chill outside. It’s never a fun time being back in school after a break, but you think you feel less strongly than other kids. School is just easy for you.

Damian and you take your seats beside one another. You sigh at the familiar space. Ms. Varley looks even less happy to be here than your peers, not that you’re really surprised. Her monotone voice drones through the morning announcements, barely registering in your mind. You steal a glance at Damian, who seems equally disinterested in the proceedings. His focus drifts to the window, where snowflakes dance against the glass, a serene contrast to the mundane classroom scene.

Then, he glances at you. The two of you hold eye contact, simply just taking the other in. You find yourself drawn to his piercing gaze, a mixture of curiosity and something deeper stirring within you. He leans closer, you hope he doesn’t somehow hear you gulp. “You’re staring,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear.

“So are you.” The air between you feels charged. His closeness sends a shiver down your spine, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty swirling within you.

The classroom seems to fade into the background as you both exchange glances, each moment stretching with anticipation. You can almost feel the weight of his presence, his proximity stirring something deep within you. Ms. Varley's voice continues to drone on, but neither of you are truly listening. Damian's hand brushes against yours subtly, a silent reassurance that sends a thrill through you.

You tilt your head slightly towards him, catching the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering winter air. "Guess we're both guilty," you reply in a hushed tone, your breath barely grazing his cheek.

The bell rings, signaling the end of class. Students begin shuffling out of the room, but you and Damian remain seated, caught in your own private world. Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice low and intimate.

"Would you... like to do something after school?" Damian's question hangs in the air, laden with possibilities.

“Like what?” you echo softly, leaning in a bit closer. Your thumb travels up to your face. You take your nail between your lips, biting it in anticipation. His eyes stare unabashedly.

"Anything," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever you'd like."

“There's a new exhibit at the Gotham Museum of Art," you suggest, voice steady yet tentative. "I think you’d like it.”

“Ahem.”

You startle, because, holy shit, what were you thinking? Ms. Varley has her hands on her hips, glaring at you two. “Class ended two minutes ago.” Her tone is sharp, cutting through the lingering atmosphere between you and Damian.

You straighten up in your seat, feeling heat rush through your face. Damian beside you remains composed, his expression unreadable as he regards Ms. Varley with a calm demeanor. “Sorry,” you squeak, quickly gathering your things and leaving. Damian follows you out.

You ignore Victoria’s questioning stare during ballet.

You ignore Damian’s heated gaze during art.

Damian tells Alfred to drop you two off at the museum. He says it’s for your art class, that you've been assigned to study some pieces there. You wonder why he lied, since the two of you aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re just hanging out, right?

As Alfred drops you off at the museum, Damian’s demeanor is composed, his posture elegant as always. You step out onto the bustling street, the crisp air mingling with the sounds of Gotham's urban rhythm. The museum stands before you, its grand façade a testament to the city's rich heritage.

"Thank you, Pennyworth," Damian nods to the butler before turning to you. "Shall we?"

You nod, mentally preparing yourself. Preparing yourself for what? You’re not sure. Inside the museum, the atmosphere is serene, with the soft murmur of visitors and the occasional echo of footsteps on marble floors. Damian leads you through the corridors lined with artwork, his knowledge of the pieces evident as he shares insights and observations with you.

You find yourself drawn into conversations of others that range from the profound to the whimsical, discussing everything from classical masterpieces to contemporary expressions of art. Damian's presence is reassuring, his occasional smiles and thoughtful gestures adding to the richness of the experience.

As you explore the exhibits together, you notice how Damian's demeanor softens, his usual guardedness giving way to moments of genuine interest. The museum becomes a backdrop, noises muffling.

At one point, you find yourselves standing before a striking abstract painting, its vibrant colors and bold strokes capturing your attention. Damian watches you quietly, his expression contemplative as he takes in your reaction.

"This one's interesting," you comment, studying the painting with a thoughtful expression.

Damian nods, his gaze lingering on the artwork. "It's meant to evoke a sense of movement and emotion," he remarks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Movement? Emotion?” you remake, mind thinking inappropriately. You can’t help it.

You let out a surprised yelp as Damian pinches your side, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Hey!" you protest, swatting his hand away with a laugh.

He chuckles softly, a rare sound that warms your heart. "Pay attention to the art, not your thoughts," he chides gently, though his eyes betray a glint of amusement.

Your eyes catch color off to the side, and before you know it, your feet are carrying you across the hall. The painting isn’t grand or anything, but you resonate with it. A person, multiple persons, stare at you. The colors remind you of a portal. The faces remind you of you. And other Peter Parker's, and other Gwen Stacy's, and other MJ’s. All you are and all you'll never be.

…

Man, you miss home.

As you stand before the painting, its vibrant hues and abstract forms seem to swirl with a life of their own. Each brushstroke tells a story, evoking memories and emotions you thought were buried deep within. Damian watches you silently, his gaze contemplative as he senses your introspection.

"Are you alright?" he asks softly, his voice breaking the stillness around you.

You blink, refocusing on Damian's concerned expression. "Yeah, just... this painting," you begin, struggling to find the right words. "It's like... it's like looking into a mirror of sorts."

He looks at you. “I don’t always know who I am, or who I’m supposed to be,” you admit. “I just know I want to keep doing what I want to do.”

Damian listens intently, his expression softening as he takes in your words. He reaches out, his hand gently grasping yours, a silent gesture of understanding and support. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," he reassures you, his voice quiet yet reassuring. "Just know that you're not alone."

You try to pull away, but his hand grips yours, tight and assured. His touch grounds you, anchoring you in the moment as you look into his eyes. There's a warmth there, a depth of understanding that surprises you.

After a moment, Damian gently squeezes your hand, silently asking if you're ready to move on. You nod, but you find yourself reluctant to let go of his hand. You should let go, you know, but you just can’t.

Damian takes you to a smaller gallery tucked away from the main halls. The lighting is softer here, casting a warm glow over the carefully curated pieces. Damian stops before a painting that contrasts sharply with the abstracts and vibrant colors you've seen so far.

It's a portrait, meticulously detailed and imbued with a sense of emotion that transcends its stillness. The subject is a young boy, his expression a mixture of innocence and quiet strength. The artist has captured every nuance, from the play of light on his face to the subtle curve of his smile.

Damian gazes at the painting with a quiet intensity, his eyes tracing the contours of the boy's face as if searching for something deeper. "This," he begins softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "is my favorite."

You stand beside him, studying the painting with newfound respect. "It's beautiful," you murmur, your voice touched with genuine admiration.

"It's more than that," Damian continues, his tone thoughtful. "It's a reminder of... resilience. The ability to endure despite the odds."

You nod, understanding his words on a level that goes beyond the surface. The painting speaks volumes about Damian himself, about the strength and complexity hidden beneath his aloof exterior

As you both stand there, sharing this moment of quiet contemplation, you feel a connection deepen between you. It's not just about the art anymore; it's about the shared experience, the unspoken understanding that bridges the gap between your worlds.

“I get it.” Because a couple of months ago, Damian Wayne and Jon Kent were nothing more than words and colors. You’ve experienced his grievances, his growth. You understand because you know. And also, just look at yourself. You’re stuck in a universe not your own, but you’re doing fine. Dare you say… you’re pretty… content.

“You do?”

“I do.”

His eyes bore into yours, taking you in. His gaze is piercing, strong and relentless. Without a word, he takes your hand again, leading you away from the crowded gallery into a quieter alcove.

The moment stretches, charged with anticipation as you stand face to face. "You're amazing," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "I've never met anyone like you."

His hands raise, hovering at your sides. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Huh–

His hands grasp under your thighs, heaving you up against him with ease. His fingers squeeze into your flesh, sending your mind spiraling.

And his lips– oh. His lips crash into yours. They feel… they feel good against your own. Plush, soft, and oh so desired. An exploration between souls. The kiss deepens, giving in to a deep hunger.

Your arms betray you, hooking over his shoulders, hands finding their place in his hair. You ruffle and grip it, messing it up from its meticulous presentation. Damian presses you against the wall, breathing heavily through his nose. Your lips part, allowing him to slip his tongue inside–Jesus.

Your legs tighten around his waist, as it’s the only thing you can think to do. Where else would they go? He’s holding you up so good, it’s only natural. He draws you impossibly closer, moving his body against yours. He sighs into your mouth, shoulders flexing. Damian is all taking, like he’s drawing something out of you after so long.

You furrow your brows, drawing back. He chases you, unwilling to let you go now. He hums like he’s confused at your movement. Your pulse is thundering. You can hear his doing the same. Need claws at your ribcage. Your breath catches. He shudders against you.

Damian pulls back, only to take a breath. His gaze is unbelievably intense, as if he is unraveling secrets with his eyes alone. The air around you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You can feel the heat of his breath mingling with yours. Your proximity closes as he presses his lips to yours once more with one kiss, two kisses, three. A plethora of tiny fleeting kisses, no less mind-numbing than the other. Time seems to stand still as you both linger in the sweetness of those chaste kisses, each one leaving you yearning for more.

The area is filled with smacks of your lips. He moves languidly against you, completely content. Finally, he pulls away, leaving your lips tingling. His eyes stay on them for a while, looking down at you wrapped around him before trailing up to meet your eyes. You savor the way his chest heaves against yours.

“Damian,” you breathe. He closes his eyes, like your voice itself sets him off.

“Habib(t)i,” he sighs, leaning in to press his face against yours. Oh, God. “My beloved,” he croons. How whipped is he from just a kiss?

A kiss. Oh. Oh, wait. No. Nonono. This can’t happen. This cannot happen.

You push off of his shoulders, tugging against his grip to land on solid ground. His grip loosens reluctantly, his expression a blend of confusion and concern. "What?" he asks softly, reaching out tentatively as if afraid you might vanish. “What is it?”

“Damian,” you manage.

He stands there, watching you with an intensity that speaks of his own turmoil. "Tell me," he presses gently, taking a step closer, his hand hovering near yours as if seeking reassurance.

“You… Jon,” you say desperately, turning away. “You, you’re–” You risk a glance at him, hoping for clarity but finding only the storm of emotions in his eyes. “You’re confused.”

“I am not,” he growls, offended.

“I… this can’t happen,” you stress. “I’m sorry, but this can’t happen. Not for me.”

He scoffs, but lacks his usual bravado. “Don’t push me away because of fear.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you steel yourself, taking a deep breath to calm the swirling emotions threatening to consume you. “It’s not fear, Damian,” you reply, voice trembling.

“Then what?” he asks, borderline desperate. "Tell me what you need."

“I can’t…” Are you a… homewrecker? Are they officially together? “I just can’t. Right now.” You turn around, hands trembling. His hands reach out for you. “[Name]–”

“We’ll talk later. I swear.” Your feet carry out across the room. “But I just can’t right now.” The air crackles with tension as you move away, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Damian stands there, conflicted and vulnerable, his usual composure shaken by. His hand hesitates in the air, reaching out for you but falling back to his side as you retreat.

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest by the time you make it outside. You hardly feel the cold biting at your skin. What have you done? You hands struggle to get a grip on your phone, opening your texts with Jon.

please get this boy some brown contacts

jon im so sorry

He responds seconds later.

???

i kissed damian

!??!?!?!

LOOK OUT

You gasp, moving out of the way as a car barrels past you. The bastard honks at you, asshole. You sigh, looking back to your phone–your phone. That’s not in your hand anymore. Where is your phone?

Oh, no. You see it now. On the ground, screen cracked beyond repair. The car must of ran over it, you guess. You close your eyes and breathe, just breathe. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, pocketing the useless device. You glance around, feeling a mix of frustration and regret swirling inside you. The street is bustling with people going about their day, oblivious to the turmoil in your mind.

You detour into a nearby alley. Probably not the smartest thing to do in Gotham, but you can take care of yourself. Knees giving out, you sink the ground against the wall.

You just want to go home.

The world spins around you, the weight of your actions crashing down. Everything feels like it's slipping through your fingers. You rest your head against the cold brick wall, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaos.

Moments pass, or maybe it's minutes. Time seems to stretch and warp around you, the sounds of the city fading into a dull hum. You press your palms against your eyes, trying to block out the swirling thoughts.

What have you done? Jon. Oh, Jon. Damian. Damian Damian Damian.

Taking a deep breath, you push yourself off the wall, steeling yourself for what comes next. There’s an ache in your chest, somewhat familiar.

hey look it

Huh?

over there!

What is that? An explosion color. Visual kaleidoscope. A swirling vortex of hues, shimmering and pulsating with an otherworldly energy. Your heart races. The air around you crackles with energy, pulling you towards the known unknown.

A figure steps out hand outstretched. His blue and red suit is familiar.

“[Name],” he calls. Miguel.

“Miguel,” you whisper, hand reaching out without hesitation. He grasps yours reassuringly, slowly pulling you into the portal. The bright light is welcoming. You don’t even squint as you pass through the universe.

You breathe as you step into your destination. Nueva York is something ethereal to you. Your favorite part of this Earth might just be a Lunar Train. Really, a train to the moon? How cool is that? You can see the line stretching into the sky from here.

Miguel's hands land on your shoulder, gently turning you around. “Are you hurt?”

You manage to shake your head. “No.” His eyes roam you for injuries, nodding in satisfaction when he finds none.

“[Name]!”

Arms wrap around you, nearly tackling you to the ground. Soft hair presses into your cheek as Pav grips you tight. A grin stretches across your face automatically, arms coming up to embrace him. “Pav!”

He laughs breathily. “Missed you,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your shoulder.

“Missed you too,” you reply softly, squeezing him tightly before pulling back slightly to look at him. His eyes are a little watery. He turns to the side waving his arm. “It’s [Name]! They’re here!”

You watch as your friends barrel around the corner. Miles trips a little bit as he runs towards you. Gwen is tearing up as soon as she spots you. They join your little group hug with yells of your name. Hobie rounds the corner with Peter B., hands in his pockets casually. You hold out a hand to him and he joins in, gripping you all tightly. Peter beams at your group, Mayday in his hands.

“[Name],” sniffles Miles, “where have ya been?”

Gwen wipes away a tear, her expression a mix of joy and concern. "Are you okay? What happened?"

You only hold them tighter, eyes shutting tight. A traitorous tear falls down your face. Hobie diligently wipes it away. You don’t want to talk right now.

You’re finally back.

notes: everytime i write a damian scene he gets 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 i swear (its not on purpose it just happens </3)

i actually wanted jon to have the first kiss in the fic, but i dont think he'd let reader get away tbh lol, and if he did he's sticking an ear out because he's worried ab em.

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE TALK(S)

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ You get some insight from some friends. And not friends. It's you. Despite everything, it's been you. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none wc: 3.5k

New York welcomes Spinnerette back with open arms.

Several articles span over night, questioning the disappearance and sudden return. They’ll have to keep questioning, because there will be no official statement from you. You’re Spinnerette, not Tony Stark, aka Iron Man.

One of the first things you do is go pick up your order at Delmar’s. It’s been far too long since you’ve tasted heaven.

Pepper comes up with a simple cover story as to why [Name] [L.Name] was gone from public eye. It’s elegant in its simplicity: during the time [Name] [L.Name] was absent from the public eye, they were undertaking an extended philanthropic research expedition abroad, focusing on humanitarian efforts and technological research in developing countries  in order to prepare for when they eventually take over as CEO to Stark Industries.

Delmar doesn’t ask too many questions, anyway. He only says how he’s glad you’re back and gives you your order.

You happily munch on it as you watch New York’s sunset. The view from Avengers Tower is always nice. It casts a warm, golden glow over the skyline, a picturesque reminder of why you love this city so much. The gentle breeze carries the distant sounds of traffic.

“Why are you having these thoughts?”

Wanda’s voice is soft but perceptive, her presence a comforting familiarity. She moves gracefully, even in her casual pajamas, and joins you by the edge, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

“What thoughts?” you ask, knowing it’s futile. You can try and pretend all you want, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Even without Wanda’s powers, she could’ve easily figured you out.

Wanda turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. “You know exactly what thoughts,” she says gently.

You sigh, taking another bite of your sandwich, buying yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. The flavors are as delightful as you remembered, but they do little to distract from the weight of Wanda’s words.

The sky turns darker, with the sun sinking lower, casting long shadows across the city. Wanda waits patiently, her gaze never leaving you. The silence stretches, comfortable and familiar, but charged with unspoken words.

"I missed this place," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I missed the people, the energy... but…" you hesitate, unsure if you want to voice the thoughts swirling in your mind.

Wanda reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's okay to feel conflicted," she says softly. "You’ve been through much. It's natural to question things."

You nod slowly, absorbing Wanda's words. The city below seems to hum with a life of its own, oblivious to the inner turmoil tugging at your thoughts. You take another bite of your sandwich.

"I guess I just didn't expect everything to feel so... different," you admit quietly, gazing out at the skyline. "I thought coming back would be like slipping into an old pair of shoes, but it's more like trying to break in new ones. I got so used to life over there.”

Wanda nods, humming. Her expression softens, voice gentle. “Jon. And Damian,” she echoes softly. “They’ve been on your mind since you came back.” You nod slowly, acknowledging Wanda's insight. Her ability to grasp the complexities of your thoughts is both comforting and unnerving at times.

"Yeah," you admit, a faint smile touching your lips. "They have." You pause, considering how much to share. "It's like... being torn between two worlds," you continue, your gaze drifting back to the skyline where the last vestiges of daylight paint the buildings in shades of amber. "I've grown close to them in ways I didn't anticipate. Jon's warmth and openness, Damian's... well, his complexities," you chuckle softly.

Wanda listens intently, her presence a calming presence amidst the bustling cityscape. "It sounds like they've left quite an impression," she remarks softly, eyeing your bracelet.

"They have," you affirm, a hint of wistfulness in your tone. "And now, being back here, it's like I'm standing at a crossroads, unsure where to go."

Wanda's eyes are filled with empathy. "Sometimes, the heart knows things before the mind can make sense of them.”

You look at her. "I remember when Vision and I were navigating similar feelings," Wanda begins softly, her voice carrying a nostalgic undertone. "He was... different, not just because of what he was, but because of how he made me feel." Her gaze drifts to the skyline, memories playing across her features like shadows dancing in the fading light.

"It was challenging, trying to reconcile our differences and the worlds we came from," she continues, her tone thoughtful. "But in the end, what mattered most was the connection we shared, the understanding that despite everything, we chose each other."

Her words resonate with you, echoing your own internal struggles. "Did it ever get easier?" you ask quietly, seeking reassurance in her experience.

Wanda smiles softly, expression tinged with fondness. "Not easier, but... clearer," she replies, her gaze returning to meet yours. "Love has a way of guiding us through uncertainty, showing us what truly matters." You don’t know about love exactly, but maybe…

"It's like they've opened doors I didn't even know were there," you confess, a sense of revelation settling over you. "And now, I'm standing here, wondering which ones I should go through.”

Wanda nods understandingly, a soothing presence in the midst of your introspection. "The paths we choose often define us," she muses softly. "But sometimes, it's not about choosing one thing over another, but finding a way to integrate both into who you are."

“What would we do without you, Wanda?” you say in lieu of thanks.

She returns your smile warmly. "Anytime."

With a final glance at the city below, you finish your sandwich, savoring the flavors that remind you of home. Whatever lies ahead, you know you'll face it head on.

You find Tony tinkering away in his lab (because where else would he be?) He looks up as you enter, a small grin spreading across his face. “Pass me that wrench, will you?” You pass Tony the wrench, settling into a comfortable silence as he continues his work. The hum of machinery and occasional sparks fill the air, a familiar backdrop to your thoughts.

Tony mumbles lightly, adjusting a few components on his latest project. "Pepper told me about the cover story," he mentions casually. "Philanthropic research expedition, huh? Not bad."

You chuckle softly. "Pepper has a knack for making things sound believable," you comment, recalling how she effortlessly crafted the narrative to explain your absence.

Tony grins mischievously. "She's got a way with words," he agrees, his gaze flicking back to his work. "So, how was it, really? Did you make friends with Superman?”

“No, I made friends with his son,” you jest.

“Well, of course you did,” he nods seriously. “You have a certain effect on people.”

You place your arms on his desk, leaning. “You know, you were my dad there.”

Tony looks up, eyes boring into yours. For a moment it’s silent. “Made up an identity for myself. Had to, of course. Listed you as my rich dad who was on vacation and had left little ole me all by myself.”

"Ah, playing the absent but wealthy father role, I see. I hope I lived up to your expectations as the neglectful billionaire." He leans back, crossing his arms with mock seriousness. “Though a vacation does sound nice.”

You grin. "They bought it though, surprisingly enough. I think they were more curious about figuring out if I’m Spinnerette or not than my supposed absent father." You lean back. “They did, by the way. But it all worked out.”

Tony chuckles, a hint of pride in his expression. "Well, that's my kid—always keeping them guessing."

“You’ll also be pleased to know that I did a "Tony Stark" while I was there,” you grin, coming up next to him.

“That’s not good.”

“I remade your new element.”

Tony raises a brow, but doesn’t look all that surprised. “You’re becoming just like me. Pepper won’t like that.”

“I was gonna use it to power my way home, put it in my watch somehow, but I didn’t get to use it,” you shrug. “Figure it’ll help their world, anyhow. The blueprints you left in the suit really helped.”

“Gotta take care of my own,” he shrugs.

You smile, the warmth of familiarity easing the lingering tensions from earlier introspection. "You did," you reply sincerely, a fondness in your voice. "It was... comforting, having you there in spirit."

As you watch Tony continue his tinkering, a thought tugs at your mind. You take a deep breath  "Tony, can I ask you something?" you venture, breaking the silence.

"Shoot," he replies, not looking up from his work but clearly attentive.

"How do you know when you're ready to make a decision that could change everything?" you ask, your voice laced with uncertainty.

Tony looks up from his workbench, his expression thoughtful. He sets down his tools and turns to face you fully, his gaze assessing yet warm.

"You're asking the big questions, aren't you?" Tony remarks, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Decision-making is a blend of gut instinct, logic, and experience. You weigh the risks, consider the consequences, but ultimately, it comes down to what feels right deep down."

You nod, absorbing his words. "But what if both paths feel right in different ways?" you press further, needing clarity on the conflict within you.

“Why should it be two paths? It could be just one.”

Oh. Hm. Guess so.

“Sometimes life’s about finding a way to blend them together, creating a new path that's uniquely yours."

You ponder his words, the gears in your mind turning as you consider the implications. "So, instead of choosing between them, I should look for how they complement each other?" you venture, seeking to clarify your thoughts.

Tony nods approvingly. "Exactly. Integration rather than separation. You're a smart cookie, kid," he says with a wink. “Trust yourself and go for it, [Name].”

His words echo Wanda's earlier sentiments, reinforcing the idea that perhaps the answers you seek lie within your own intuition. You smile gratefully at Tony, feeling a bit of the weight lift off your shoulders. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Anytime, kid.”

The two of you fall into a companionable silence, the hum of machinery and occasional banter filling the air. As Tony returns to his tinkering and you reflect on your journey, a sense of belonging washes over you, grounding you in the familiar embrace of family, wherever they may be.

Later, you leave Tony’s lab, a sense of clarity guiding your steps as you navigate through the halls of Avengers Tower. Thoughts of Jon and Damian linger in your mind, their presence like gentle echoes urging you forward.

You find yourself drawn to the training room, a sanctuary of sorts where you’ve honed your skills and found solace in the rhythm of combat. The familiar scent of sweat and metal greets you as you enter, the training mats beckoning invitingly under the soft glow of overhead lights.

You start with basic stretches, letting muscle memory guide your movements as you flow through familiar routines. Each stretch and strike brings a sense of  familiarity, a reminder of the strength and determination that brought you here.

As you spar with imaginary opponents, the echoes of Wanda’s words linger in your mind. Love, uncertainty, and the paths that lie ahead—all intertwined in a tapestry of choices and possibilities. In the midst of your training, Jon’s warmth and Damian’s complexities come into sharper focus. Their presence in your life has been unexpected yet undeniable, each offering a different perspective and a unique connection that resonates deeply within you.

You spar with renewed vigor, channeling your thoughts and emotions into each movement. The clang of fists against pads and the sound of your own breath become a cadence, a rhythmic heartbeat of determination and contemplation. Hours pass unnoticed, lost in the flow of training and introspection. By the time you finish, exhaustion mingles with a sense of satisfaction.

A week passes. You find yourself hanging out in one of the numerous lounges at Spider-HQ. You and Hobie wrangled some consoles, bean bags, fairy lights and other cozy things in (in spite of Miguel's exasperations) and dubbed this specific one yours. It's a place where you can unwind and escape the responsibilities that come with being the Spider.

Gwen, Hobie and Pav have taken to playing a ferocious game of Mario Kart. You and all your kindness have decided to help Miles with his Spanish homework. Miles listens attentively, occasionally interjecting with questions or sharing anecdotes about his latest escapades.

You sit down next to Miles, flipping open the textbook with a grin. "Alright, buckle up Miles.. ¿Listo? you ask cheerfully, ready to dive into the conjugations and vocabulary with him.

Miles chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, thanks for helping out with this. Spanish isn't my strongest subject."

You tsk. “Shameful.” He shoves you playfully in retaliation. As you guide Miles through the homework, laughter and banter fill the air, mingling with the sounds of Mario Kart battles and friendly debates over strategy. It's a relaxed atmosphere, a welcome break from the weightier decisions and reflections of the past week.

You sigh eventually, leaning your face into your hand. “How do you do it, Miles?”

“I don’t,” he scoffs, thinking you're referring to the Spanish. “That’s why you’re here.”

You snort, sliding away his assignment. “I mean, how is it so easy for you to just… be you?”

Miles looks at you quizzically, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Being me? It's not always easy, you know," he replies with a hint of sincerity beneath his playful tone. "But I guess I just try to focus on what matters to me, you know? Like family, friends, and doing what's right."

You nod thoughtfully, considering his words. "Yeah, I get that," you say, a small smile forming. "It's about staying true to yourself, even when things get complicated."

"Exactly!" Miles exclaims, his enthusiasm infectious. "You've got to figure out what works for you and roll with it. I mean, look at you—you've got this whole dual life thing down don’t you?”

You chuckle softly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone. "Maybe not always as smoothly as I'd like."

"But you're doing it," Miles insists, his gaze earnest. "And that's what counts. You're making it work. Just, do your own thing,” he trails off, looking at Gwen. It’s no secret that there is something going on between them.

Well, if that is testament enough, then what is?

“...There’s a first time for everything.”

Later, as the night winds down and your friends begin to disperse, you linger in the lounge for a moment of quiet contemplation. With a final glance around the room, you rise to your feet.

There is one more person you’d like to talk to.

This New York isn’t so different from your own. It looks the same, sounds the same, and feels the same. You even spot a Delmar's while you swing around. The nighttime lights blur into streaks as you move. The rhythm of your movements, the thwip of your webs, and the distant sounds of the city create a symphony of familiarity.

You land gracefully on a rooftop, taking a moment to survey the skyline. There’s an Avengers Tower, standing tall and proud in the distance, a beacon of strength. As you catch your breath, you feel a presence nearby—a silent observer, familiar and comforting.

familiar

“Never thought I’d see you here,” they hum. Coming to a stop beside. The spider symbol on their chest is the same since you last saw it. When they visited you to give you the catalyst back in the other universe.

The Spider that threw you there in the first place.

Strange times, huh?

“I guess you found your way?” they ask, fiddling with their web-shooters.

“I guess I did,” you hum. You gaze at them for a moment, the shared history and intertwined destinies palpable between you.

“So, to what do I owe the visit? Not that I’m not grateful that you’re not body-slamming me on sight, because I am.” That gets a chuckle out of you, and they seem to relax a little.

“I’m not so angry these days,” you explain. “Other things on my mind and all.”

“Fair enough,” they concede, their tone softening. They lean against the ledge beside you, their gaze fixed on the city below. “Seems like you've been through… a lot,” they observe quietly, their voice carrying a hint of understanding.

You nod. Silence settles between you, comfortable yet charged with unspoken questions. You study their profile, noticing the subtle shifts in their demeanor, the echoes of shared experiences between your worlds.

“I’m sorry,” they finally say, their voice tinged with genuine remorse. “For everything that happened back then.”

You turn to them, meeting their gaze with a mix of forgiveness and acceptance. “I know,” you reply softly, acknowledging the weight of their words. “We both made choices, good and bad. It’s... part of who we are.”

“As Spiders?” they question hands reaching up to hook under their mask.

“As Spiders,” you agree, eyes watching as their mask slips up.

It’s you.

Despite everything, it’s been you.

Your double, or perhaps you can call them your alternate counterpart, nods in understanding, their expression mirroring the mix of determination and conflict you feel within yourself.

“I’ll be damned,” you mutter as your own suit gives away to reveal your face.

“I suspected, when we had that talk. The one where you were probably gonna kill me,” they chuckle softly. “You said you were the only [Name], and it could’ve just been a dumb coincidence…”

“Dumb coincidences don’t really happen to us.”

They shake their head. “No, they don’t.”

You lean against the ledge, feeling tired all of a sudden. “So, who is it? Who captures the heart of [Name] [L.Name]? An MJ? Gwen Stacy? Black Cat?” Maybe you secretly like to suffer, and that’s why you ask.

They snort, head hanging. “Not sure who they are, but since you're asking…”

“...there’s these guys,” they grin softly, sheepishly, “named Jon and Damian.”

And your will completely gives away.

“Jon’s real sweet, complete cutie. Ball of sunshine, and really pretty eyes. Damian’s a rich piece of work, but he’s honest and loyal. Also really pretty eyes.”

You look into their eyes, wide and disbelieving. “Are they… so do… Superboy and Robin exist here?”

They look at you confused. “Batman? Superman?” you implore. “Not even.. the comics?”

They purse their lips and shake their head. “They’re just normal guys,” they mutter softly.

Your counterpart's words hang in the air, mingling with the cool breeze that sweeps across the rooftop. You can't help but laugh softly, shaking your head in disbelief. "Can’t believe it," you mutter, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m the one who isn’t normal,” they smile dryly. “They didn’t know anything about me until I got back. They were so worried sick, and I realized how much they care about me. What better time to tell them everything?”

“And it was worth telling them?”

“I love them, of course it was,” they shrug, like it’s just that simple. “They see me now, as both [Name] and Spinnerette. I wouldn’t give that for anything.”

You feel a surge of warmth and hope at their words, realizing that perhaps your own path can lead to a similar sense of acceptance and belonging. "It's good to hear that it worked out for you," you say sincerely.

Your counterpart smiles, a glimmer of understanding in their eyes. "It can work out for you too.”

You guess no one would know you better than you.

“Thanks,” is all you say.

“Anytime,” is all they say, nodding at you with a gentle smile before shooting a web swinging away into the night, disappearing amidst the glowing cityscape.

You remain on the rooftop for a while longer, lost in thought. The skyline stretches before you, a tapestry of lights and shadows that mirror the complexities of your own life. The pieces of a puzzle are slowly coming together, guiding you towards a path that feels uniquely yours.

With renewed determination, you take to the skies once more, letting the rhythm of your swings carry you forward. The night air is crisp and alive with possibility, each movement a step towards embracing yourself and your desires.

As you land on the familiar (familiar, but not yours) balcony of Avengers Tower, you take a moment to savor the view. The city stretches out beneath you, a testament to home. You made it back to a place that feels like home, where friendships and connections intertwine to create a tapestry of support and understanding.

You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. Jon and Damian are waiting for you.

“Trust yourself and go for it, [Name].”

“I’m ready,” you whisper to yourself, a quiet affirmation that echoes in the night.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

You input a location into your Web-watch.

"It can work out for you too.”

You step into the bright amalgamation of light.

notes: does that parallel i mentioned in chap 14 make sense now? lol

BYE BYE, MISS AMERICAN PIE || JASON TODD X WIFE!READER

MASTERLIST || CHAPTER SIX: BANANA CHIPS & RED MESSAGES

SUMMARY: spending the night out on patrol with his family was not on his list of tonight. on the look out for joker’s next move, jason comes to find no where is safe for his wife.

PAIRING: JASON TODD X FEM!READER,

MENTION: VIOLENCE, DEATH OF AN MINOR OC, EXPLOSIONS, PANIC ATTACKS, BLOOD, KIDS BEING KIDS, PREGNANCY CRAVINGS, BREAKING IN, ALMOST ATTEMPTED MURDER.

prev || next

PERFECT-TIMING FOR YOU AND I.

WHAT IF I TELL YOU HE CREATED A PERFECT DISTRACTION?

TOO BAD HE’S FAR AWAY FROM YOU.

“…absolutely not”, JASON hissed at DICK through the comms. 

RIGHT NOW, the two of them were beating the absolute shit out of the thugs that wanted to harm an mother and a daughter. well more like jason was. luckily they were there. and meanwhile they were arguing mid way into the fighting, jason could see in the corner of his eye the huddled mom and kid. it made his heart ache a little. imaging if that was y/n and- nevermind. all this ‘baby talk’ made him feel more timid. about everything. “come on red, you have to remake the wedding for me! I can be your best man”, dick dressed as NIGHTWING reasons with jason. the older brother hits the thug by the escrima sticks causing a grunt to come out of the thug. 

“no, arsenal would be the best man..”jason admits throwing a random pipe at the running man. 

almost comically falling face first on the cold wet alleyway floor, a loud ‘Aah!’ comes out from his mouth. jason grinned at the funny sight. until it fell hearing dick protest with an dramatic yell. “what?! and not me? that’s on another level of disrespect”, dick had objected. jason already knows he’s going to bother him all night and day. the previous conversation was of how dick would of wanted to be at the wedding, cheering on his baby brother for getting married. rolling his eyes under the helmet jason looked around for more thugs to knock out. relaxing to realize that all of them were unconscious. leaving dick to fight off the last one by himself. 

on the ground in between the two vigilantes and the mother, was a small brown teddy bear. instead of fluffy coat it developed to be wet and floppy. absorbing the water from the ground. gross. jason looked up to see the still frightened mother who stepped forward shaking. tears in her brown eyes as mascara falls from her cheeks, she looks at both nightwing and red hood watching as dick punches the last thug. “t-thank you. thank you so much”, the woman sniffled holding onto her daughters hand. she was grateful for the such kindness of the two masked men. dick placed his sticks on his back feeling them attached themselves.

”of course ma’am, are you injured?”, jason rolled his eyes at dick’s voice. it was sounding to proud and boyish almost like superman’s voice. 

even the golden boy couldn’t help but stand like he always does with that stupid stance of his. catching his eyes was the little girl that wore a pink jacket, the hood pulled over her small head as she looked up at jason with no fear but curiosity. jason looked down at the puddle where the teddy bear laid helplessly. bending down he picks it up by it’s shoulder. it felt wet in his hands as he held it. growing up, jason didn’t have any toys. too poor to have any and cause his mom or dad wouldn’t buy him any. not like he really had a problem with it. he remembers he would always make his own toys out of anything he could find whenever he wasn’t taking care of his mom. 

now with his current life with y/n, he could live his childhood through his kid. it sounded crazy saying that. his kid. a life he created. 

jason wished many times before he didn’t want to be alive again. but he quickly stopped when he met y/n. he has two purposes to keep living on. for them. 

squatting down to the height of the little girl’s jason held out the teddy bear. “here”, he spoke softly. hesitate, the little girl looked at jason’s hand holding her stuffed animal. she looks up at her mother who watched the interaction with a watery smile. her mother soothed a hand on her covered head, “it’s okay charlotte. go ahead”. and than, ‘Charlotte’ waddles over to jason wearing a pair of rain boots. cute. approaching the huge man her smaller hand grabs onto her precious bear, even though it was wet she hugged it close to her chest. she looked up at him with the biggest pair of eyes he’s seen. “thank you”, she mumbled out her thanks still clutching on the animal. if he wasn’t wearing his helmet, everyone would see the large smile he had on his face. he gives her a nod before standing up tall looming over the girl.

”anytime kid, you two need an escort or” “no no we live right up ahead. thank you so much”, the woman places a hand on her heart still in awe and calming down. an assured nod from red hood till he stopped to look down at the little girl who still looked up at him with beaming eyes. 

jason gave her one last look before walking out of the alleyway purposefully stepping on a thug’s back. a grunt made him kick him on the side in exchange. “of course, if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call the cops if the-“ dick says getting cutting by jason who harshly grabbed the back of his suit. “-what? wait red, let me, LET GO!”, he yells out dramatically while being dragged by jason. 

STARIN’ down at the gladden city from the edge of the building. beside jason was his favorite gargoyle, the one he always sits next to when he’s looking out at the city waiting for something to happen. it was the same one jason would be seated to when he was robin. he always said it gave him comfort after the times him and bruce would argue. and it still is his favorite. also because it was the biggest one. man, jason almost regret not taking y/n up here knowing she would love this view. 

behind his helmet pops up a signal and an incoming call from ‘MISS AMERICAN PIE’, jason was quick to assume something was wrong. “answer”, he demanded. the call was quick to transfer him to the recording line. “baby? what’s wrong?”, jason asked standing up tall on the ledge of the building ready to jump off and back to the MANOR. on the other line y/n was quiet with a few rustling sounds. 

“nothing, just wanted to call you baby”, y/n finally spoke sounding like her mouth was full. he could hear the slight crunching what could be chips or a type of snack. 

jason remember that it was rather late here in GOTHAM, almost three a.m. meaning y/n would of been awake. and awake she is. relaxing, his shoulders slouch. he leans against the actual building wanting to hear more of her voice. closing his baby blues under the helmet all he could think of was y/n. “how you feeling?”, jason question his wife who happily munched on a few snacks she may or may not stolen from the pantry. “eating”, y/n stated nonchalantly shoving a few more chips in her mouth. a deep chuckle at his wife’s simple words. normally whenever y/n called him when’s out for a couple of weeks nor months, they would have long talks. planning out things to do with each other once he came home, how his family was or how his day went. the last one was the least his favorite. but unlike now, she was just ‘chilling’ which eased jason’s mind. 

“and what are you eating there gorgeous”, jason tried to sound as charming with a cheeky smile.

hearing his wife giggle behind the phone, y/n pops a few more chips in her mouth. the sound of a dog tag clinking, ginger was there. “someone’s chips I stole, ginger’s here too”, she said. a little grumble comes from the sleepily puppy begging for a crumb of the chip. sneaking in a few chips, jason could hear ginger lick her chompers at the barbecue taste. “how’s patrol going?”, he could hear himself sigh at the question. it was, alright? boring? no lead on joker’s whereabouts. dick had sent himself out to find something while jason stayed on the building. “it’s going, fine…”.

”just fine or just boring?”, a smile she probably had on her face right now. “both? is that bad?”, his turn to ask her a question. 

y/n chuckled softly through the phone. she always loved phone calls with her husband. “nope,” she said with a slight pop at the end of the ‘p’. being on house arrest wasn’t something she would fight on. she does stay home all day and night and only goes out when she wants to. the silence between them as they stayed on the line. y/n could tell how much all of this is stressing out jason. though she wanted to know the updates with the ‘joker’ situation. maybe will try and help jason take down the son of a bitch. “you find anything on him?”, the highlighted word really let jason know who she was talking about. not really bothering to use his name, knowing it’ll make jason uncomfortable just by thinking about him. jason stayed quiet on the line for a couple of seconds biting his lip. “no”, he responded.

the line went silent once more. 

“we’ll find something jay”, y/n tried to sound positive. someone has to be the one to be optimistic here. 

and of course jason was the one that had to look at the negative outcomes. meaning he was being a ‘negative nancy’ is what y/n or dick would say to him. jason bites his lip a little harder drawing some blood, the familiar taste of metallic entered his mouth. “hopefully tonight we will. I’m not waiting any longer”, jason said sounded angrily and impatient. 

“and we won’t”.

”if it does than that means the longer you’re life is in danger”

she sighs knowing that jason was right. if no one acts now, potentially y/n will end up dead sooner than later. 

“no need for a reminder please”, y/n spoke jokingly to lighten the mood. an expected answer of silence from jason as he did not find this funny. quietening down y/n could feel jason clenching jaw grinding his teeth in thought. “jay”, she sang calling to him. “if you keep making that face you’ll just keep grinding your teeth”, his wife giggled hearing a smile start forming on her pretty lips. 

stopping his jaw mid way sentence jason fixes it. “I was not grinding my teeth”, he lied not giving into the teasing. 

“oh definitely not grinding your teeth. cause if you were, you already know I’ll just grab your jaw to stop you”, y/n states. a light gulp sound comes from the speakers from his helmet. the same grin on his face knowing that she gets hungry during later in the night. a habit she always had when she was a kid. “last time you almost punched me babe”, jason jokes about a memory the time she almost did in fact punch him when he was asleep while grinding his teeth waking y/n up. 

suddenly a loud BOOM! shakes the city almost making jason fall over down to the air. he holds onto the building to steady himself carefully, “what the fuck?”. up north ahead was a smaller building that had exploded with shattered glass spreading dangerously in the air. cars honking and tires swirling along of terrified screams rang down below. “what? what happened?”, he heard y/n ask him worriedly. definitely going to have to call her later. “sorry babe duty calls. I’ll be home soon, don’t wait up for me”, jason says apologetic with seriousness. pressing a leather finger on the side of his helmet jason ends the call unexpectedly not hearing y/n say goodbye. he grabs his grappling hook before shooting it at a nearby building. pressing the button and off jason leaves his comfort place. swooshing through the air another incoming call flashes through his screen. 

INCOMING CALL : DICKHEAD.

jason muttered “answer” in the mouth piece. the call switched over to hear dick’s voice breathing heavily in a panick like state. “jay!”, he yells out to him. a grunt along of curses on the line. he was fighting someone. “where are you? you might wanna see this. im by the nearby-“ “I know I saw. I’ll be there in two”, jason smoothly responses jumping through rooftop buildings. the call ends abruptly by dick who was rather busy fighting whatever goon it was. please let it be something, he says to himself. wanting to see what could lead the way in finding the joker before he finds his wife. 

for all he knows, for what everyone knows why his wife specifically.

an innocent bystander who just lives her life normally. no criminal record. hates the smell of strong candles from bath and body works. and has a sensory issue when it comes to feeling carpet that hasn’t been vacuumed. 

his wife was just a normal person. so why would the man who murdered him want her for? 

jason rasped speeding through the buildings already feeling the adrenaline pumping through his body. he looks down as he ran, seeing the familiar clown masks coming out of the building with guns in their hands. a few hostages being thrown around. stopping at the nearest building jason watches what the henchmen were doing. mostly consist of yelling at hostages and insulting each other waving around the heavy AK-47 like it wouldn’t set off. 

he looks up at the destroyed building looking for any sign of dick. only to see nothing but building remains. where the hell was he? 

“shut up! if you don’t say quiet about boss’ shit than we’re all ducking dead”, one of the goons says wearing a full on clown costume with blood stains at the bottom of his pants. a white glove finger pokes at another masked man who protested angrily smacking that finger. “not like he can fucking hear us dipshit”, he says waving around the gun in the air looking around mentioning joker. that perked up jason’s interest. another goon that knows where he is. perfect. he grabs his gun from his holster to shoot the goon with the gun in the air. the bullet shoots through that air causing the gun to fall on the floor with a clank. the goon screamed in agony clutching his leaking arm. “shit! it’s red hood!”, the clown-wearer panics grabbing the shot henchman dragging him back inside the destroyed building leaving the terrified hostages on the street.

already taking a leap into the air, jason grapples his hook to the lower floor. he ducks and rolls breaking his fall. the floor was completely empty. only a few desks and tables were ruined from the explosion. it was quiet. too quiet that is. no one was up here. carefully, jason creeps forward to the door with his gun aimed at incoming passers. where the hell is dick at? he has to be here. 

jason moves to various different empty rooms to find nothing but destroyed furniture and paper work fallen on the floors. something was right about this. he could feel it. light on his footsteps jason sees one last room he still hasn’t taken a look at yet. the crunch of his boots stepping on broken glass he could feel his heart pounding heavily. it couldn’t stop fucking beating like that. the rack of nerves, the twist in his stomach felt like he was going to throw up. swallowing down with a low gulp, jason swiftly turns to the room with his gun in front of him. his eyes scan the room for any henchmen or signs of dick around. they widen at the unexpected foreseeing sight of a dead woman…

she laid there motionless with her limbs placed neatly and planned. her hands were over her stomach along with her legs and feet laid together. a stiff position. reminding him of when Snow White was laid in her clear casket by the dwarves. but what really terrified him was the way her mouth was carved into a stretched smile. it was bloodied running down her cheeks and chin, onto her white blouse. her eyes were opened staring back at the dusted ceiling. already dried tears dropped from her eyes. candles were around her form as she laid there.

stepping forward, jason breathed raggedly. he inched closer to the cold woman. the candles were bright in the room. as he examined her up closely this time, he could see she was young…

she looked to be the same age as y/n…

he could never image that was her. the very thought made his stomach knot. as he looked down at the poor woman, he couldn’t help but feel guilt. she would of been alive if he was here on time. what if he- no. no he can’t think like that. especially when it comes to y/n. 

lifting up his metal covered head he looks over to the wall, turning his head once more only for it to turn back to the wall not expecting the red painted words in bold. jason turns his whole body to face the wall. under his helmet his eyebrows pinched together a little stretch in between. stepping back in the room as he read the words, the last word made his whole body jump. his back hits the other side harshly. a breath of air escapes him. 

‘LOOKS LIKE MISS AMERICAN PIE IS FINALLY HOME? YOU KNOW I LOVE SURPRISES BABY BIRD. SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE WOULD HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SMILE. YOU WOULDN’T MIND, WOULD YOU JAY? ‘

and right next to the blood painted words was a joker card.. the same one that was left on jason’s kitchen counter couple night ago when y/n was attacked. he could feel his breathing pick up. jason could hear his heart pounding faster than ever. his hand reaches up and clutches his chest. ‘oh fuck, oh fuck’. 

he couldn’t control his breathing anymore. 

too focused on his panic attack, a light patter of footsteps comes out from the floor building. dick, running through the rooms in search of any oncoming henchman. his head and eyes ready to search every room until it lands on finding jason. dick stops on his tracks, “red?”. 

now, in the room dick’s sky blue eyes examined the very room. he comes across the deceased woman laying about six feet away from jason. the only thing that caught dick’s attention was the large carved smile on her face. “shit…”, he mutters under his breath. dick presses a finger against his ear calling in the comm link. “bats, we got…something. im sending you my location”, dick says limply putting his arm down. he presses forward into the room to come face to face with the same handwriting dick saw before nights ago. reading the message carefully, dick clenched his fist. the threat was loud and clear enough for jason. 

dick turned his attention to jason who’s breathing was starting to slow. his lips pursed, jaw clenching. he couldn’t help but feel distraught for his brother. all this was too much for jason to handle. and what dick could do was be there for him and make sure joker doesn’t go as far as to be near to y/n. but what seems like the clown already knows too much. 

the polished floor of the manor’s kitchen kissed coldly against her back thighs, y/n sat on the floor munching on some snacks she had taken out of the pantries with the pup by her side. in her hand was her cellphone watching YouTube videos on jewelry making. she really wants to make some necklaces right now. y/n had orders to fulfill and yet here she is in her in-laws sitting on the floor eating like a gremlin. popping a piece of dried bananas in her mouth, a loud crunch as she bites down on the piece. the flavor of heavy sugary coated banana tingles as she tastes the fruit. 

‘this baby is really getting some good stuff right now’.

for the last couple hours jason had gone on patrol allowing y/n to have some ‘alone’ time by herself. which means to mope and stare at nothing lost in her own world. that was until she wanted a little snack. “help yourself miss y/n” is what ALFRED said to her before he left to go down to the BATCAVE. and help herself she did. 

Alfred, for sure, knows the kind of snacks the children want in the household along of healthy homemade snacks. saying it was required to eat something to boost the vigilantes’ health. “and now we are just going to-“, the video tutorial says showing a woman’s hand holding different beads and pendants. these type of videos help y/n whenever she ran out of inspiration for her shop. even her anxiety due to the fact her equipment was back home, untouched and waiting for her. she’s going to apologize to her customers and make sure to give them a free gift with the delay. y/n sighs stuffing more banana chips in her mouth. they were rather good, not the ones that hurt her teeth when the chip is too hard to chew on.

GINGER whined staring up at y/n with big puppy dog eyes, begging just for a nimble of the treat. bananas were her favorite. y/n turned her head down to see ginger, she giggled quietly shaking her head. “no ging, I’m sorry but these aren’t regular bananas”, she apologized placing a gentle hand on the back of her head. her fingernails scratched the pup’s fur making her heteroachroma eyes close at the touch. leaning her head up to increase the head scratches, ginger grumble in relaxation. “good ginger”, y/n coos at her ignoring the banana chips. a few chips fall out of the bag turning y/n’s attention again. “oh shit”, she hisses grabbing the fallen pieces placing them in the palm of her hand.

y/n stared at the fruit in her palms, a frown on her face at the wasted chips. 

no one’s around. realizing that she was completely alone expect the pleading pup, y/n shrugged her shoulders with a pout. “ahh what the heck”, she says throwing the bananas into her mouth. ‘mm dirty bananas’. 

a satisfied crunch and swallow with the corner of her eye she could see ginger side eyeing her, both y/n and ginger stare at each other. “don’t judge me…”, she mumbled to the pup. 

“miss y/n”, a voice is heard by the doorway. y/n jumped frightened at the suddenness. she places a hand on her heart looking up at the butler who stood with amusement on his face. “oh my- you scared me”, she states taking a breather from the jumpscare. the corners of his lips quirk up into a smile. “I dearly apologize miss. just come to check up on you is all”, he says walking into the kitchen and around ginger’s form. 

“let me guess, jason had you check up on me?”, y/n sits up on the floor placing the bag of banana chips farther away from her. knowingly that alfred had spotted them by her side. “not quite. seen as I believe you haven’t been feeling the best, I thought it would be better to check on you myself. how are you feeling?”.

her eyebrows furrowed, alfred came to check up on me? though y/n had only heard the greatest things about the grandfather figure and just now gotten to meet him, she couldn’t help it with the fact he was content on seeing if she was alright. bruce had yet to directly speak to her except for dick. for tim, he was lost in his own world. and that fact they are family ever since she married jason, she felt more awkward than ever. “oh..well I’m alright, thank you alfred”, y/n thanks the older man who gave her a curt nod.

if there is anything you would prefer I make or provide you assistance, don’t hesitate to notify me”, alfred spins on the heel of his polished shoe disappearing away from the kitchen. 

y/n felt refreshed to see someone other than jason to at least the slightest bit of care. with no any contact with her parents due to their relationship with their daughter, it tends to get lonely. the click of alfred’s shoes goes further and further away, y/n sighed looking down at ginger near on her lap. once again running a hand through her neatly coated fur soothing the pup. a loud DING echoes in the empty kitchen. her head turns down onto her lap to see the notification from her phone. 

           GOTHAM NEWS: SUDDEN EXPLOSION, TEN HOSTAGES HELD BY JOKERS MEN. RED HOOD AND NIGHTWING SPOTTED.

‘what?’ clumsily grabbing her phone as it almost slipped from her hands, y/n was quick to open her phone and onto the news outlet online. she scrolled through the article reading on the update on what’s happening to the city while her husband was out there doing who knows what. the explosion was sudden. it captured jason and dick’s attention pretty easily. and seeing it was joker’s doing it was quite clear on who he wanted to come and see the destruction. deep within her gut, she felt the anxiety creeping up. trying to soothe herself by taking deep breaths and using one hand to caress ginger’s fur, it didn’t much as so help her. that psycho still wanted jason’s eyes on him just like bruce’s as batman. and that’s what scares her the most. worried for jason. 

scrolling and scanning the article made by one of the daily reporters in Gotham, there was video attached at the very bottom. the thumbnail showed Red Hood jumping off from the destroyed window. slowly, y/n pressed on the play button. the noise coming from the video echoes from her phone.

a reporter appeared in the very beginning of the video, microphone in hand as her painted red lips moved introducing herself. the news headline caught her attention, ‘JOKER HELD TEN HOSTAGE, ONE DEAD’.

”reporting live, an sudden explosion just west of Gotham has caused disturbance to the residents as ten hostages were being held by the recently escaped criminal known as the joker. joker has been last seen months prior after his escape from ARKHAM ASLUYM. with his recent activity more and more citizens have ended up disappearing or have turned up dead at the scene. one woman from this building has tragically been murdered by what looks like the joker’s doing. more details have yet to come out from police nor our city’s heroes, Nightwing and Red Hood-“

the video has come to a quick pause. y/n could see the outcome of the explosion alongside frightened citizens that have been rescued and taken in by ambulances and police. while the camera caught her husband leaving the scene, it was quick to pan to dick who was speaking to police. even with his mask, she could see her brother-in-law was distressed. joker, had gotten away once more. and one person ended up dead. putting the pieces of her husband’s sudden leave normally it would be due to him not wanting to speak to the cops, something like this would happen..someone turned up dead and he would come home disappointed with himself and wouldn’t sleep for two days because of the guilt he felt.

the screen turns to black, y/n carefully uses her feet and hands to push herself off the floor purposely awakening ginger while she was at it. unconsciously y/n placed a hand on her stomach trying to balance herself out while gripping the counter. she grunts stretching her limbs out from the long snacking on the floor. it would be better for her to end upstairs in case jason comes in. knowing that her husband had a night that made him upset just like the other nights before. 

with her slippery slippers on y/n walks away from kitchen not before taking the banana chips in her hands, to snack on later. 

ginger trotted next to her sleepily. once the two reached jason’s childhood bedroom, y/n could smell jason’s cologne that still lingered deep in the room. she took a breath to take in the scent. always loving how he smelt, jason always took care of himself. and every time he would be gone y/n always loved smelling his sweaters. his smell brought her the comfort she needed. 

her lips quirked up into a grin as she stared at the screen. he looked peaceful in his sleep. it was one of those rare moments him and y/n could just be a ‘normal’ husband and wife. and it let y/n enjoy it before jason would leave. 

quick to go on her contacts to message jason, y/n typed an reassuring quick message before heading to bed in case he doesn’t show up till morning. 

MISS AMERICAN PIE

hey baby, just checking on you. I saw the news…I hope you’re safe. I’ll be upstairs once you’re home. I love you.

the wind breezes brushes against his leather caramel jacket, jason perched against the ledge of an apartment buildings roof. the red helmet long forgotten laying on the ground next to a puddle of water. his gloved hands were tugging deep at his roots almost pulling too rough. by now if he wanted to, he would look like a ruined barbie doll with only a few strands of hair left. tears pooled underneath his domino mask. he couldn’t stop them if he wanted. why couldn’t he just stop? 

jason tugged more harshly on his hair, till he could almost hear his wife’s voice telling him to stop tugging on his beautiful hair. and so, he let go of them. the hot pain on his scalp lessened more and more once the harsh hold was gone. 

his domino mask was already damped, some of the build up of the tears leaked out from underneath. his nose was stuffed to the brim. he should really carry some tissues some day. as much as he wanted to take off his mask, it was high risk of someone seeing him without it and will say ‘HA I KNOW YOU’RE IDENTITY’ and he would be absolutely fucked. back there, it was…something. seeing that woman, made him think of his own pain the joker had put him through. and she suffered the same fate he did before. the only difference was he was still alive against his will. the worst part, she was the same age range as his wife. for a moment he almost saw y/n taking the woman’s place. bloodied smile carved into her own beautiful face. he just didn’t want to imagine it. but he couldn’t stop. 

with his state of distress, he just knows y/n would question him and if he didn’t want to say what happened tonight, she’ll just silently cuddle with him. letting jason breathe and not force himself to talk about anything. that’s one of the best parts of his wife. she was patient and gentle with him when he felt the most vulnerable. ‘go, I’ll handle everything else red’, is what dick told him after trying to calm down jason which failed seeing reporters and cops coming in before jason left through the shattered windows to escape onto an apartment rooftop.

and here he was, crying all because he saw another impacted threat against him and his wife. and an possible future outcome of his own wife’s future. why did it have to be this way? jason would do anything to leave with y/n by his side. maybe live on the countryside of some European country or live in metropolis. but y/n knows how much Gotham means to him, in doing so she would refuse to leave home. 

unknowingly to jason as he dried up his tears and the pit in his stomach was a little boy behind him. the small child’s frame stood with baggy clothing of a red sweater along black sweatpants. a shaggy tuff of brunette hair sat on his head. with a small tilt of his head he curiously looked at the vigilante that still had yet to notice him. playing with the sleeves of his rather large sweater, the kid steps forward towards jason. 

the muscular man that sat on the ledge of the roof still sat faced at the other buildings in front of the apartment. distracted with his own, the kid around to see jason’s masked face. and out of nowhere he spoke curiously, “why are you crying?”. this scared the hell out of the infamous Red Hood. a little kid no older than five scared him. a quick turn of his head jason could see him. 

“what?”, jason asked the boy. using his sleeve of his jacket to wipe at the fallen tears and his nose, that he will wash later, jason turned his entire body towards him. 

“why are you crying?”, the boy asks again stepping forward to jason. he wasn’t scared. after all he seems to not know who he is yet. 

he never felt more unsure of what to say to a toddler that caught him crying and having a crisis in the middle of the night. jason furrowed his eyebrow clearing his throat from any mucus that had settled in. “just having a tough night kid”, he tried to deepen his voice. from the corner of his eye he could see his helmet laying there, looking at him for a cry of ‘well come and get me!’. jason never felt more exposed than ever. except the time he revealed who he was to y/n. and of course when first came to Gotham to try and get to Bruce. but this is different, kids could easily reveal identities with a point of their finger. 

“why?”, the response was purely innocent. definitely far from being purposely annoying. 

a watery chuckle leaves from jason’s mouth along a small smile. “just saw something scary i guess”, he says swinging this legs over to touch the concrete floor of the roof. once he stood up, the boy backs away from him not noticing before how tall the stranger was in front of him. hazel eyes scan jason’s form as he looked in awe of the height, “you’re tall…”. 

it reminded him when jason first met bruce in the alleyway stealing the bat mobile tires. he wasn’t scared of THE Batman at all. but will always remember how much of a pipe squeak he was at the time. “and you’re short…” a offended look creases on the kid’s face thinking it was an insult while it wasn’t. jason was simply stating the obvious as he did the same. “I am not!”, he crossed his arms together glaring up at jason.

“sure you aren’t kid”, jason teases reaching forward to ruffle up the boy’s already messy hair. letting out a whine in protest at the vigilantes playfulness, stomping on his boots he walks over to where he carelessly threw his helmet on the ground. picking it up, jason slides it on his head feeling the coldness it had sucked up earlier. a small gasp is heard just behind him where the kid stood. “you-you’re red hood!”, he blurts excitedly looking up at him with a wide smile. a few teeth were missing along the front tooth. 

it always wondered to him why kids weren’t as scared of him. sure, he helps the homeless. orphanages. street kids. always beating up the ‘bad’ people. but jason always felt kids would of feared him and looked at him like how others looked at joker. children saw red hood as a hero to them. and it always warmed his heart knowing he wasn’t a monster…he never was. under his helmet jason’s smile quirked up at the boy’s excitement. “I am…”.

there was a loud ringing that pierced jason’s ear drums, countless calls and text messages from everyone. 

jason froze in his spot as he read over the messages.

DICKIE

jay where are you

BRUCE

you need to get here now. 

DAMIAN

joke-

                          INCOMING CALL: DICKIE

before he could read damian’s text message which he found alarming as he barely gets any calls or responses from the pre-teen himself, dick’s caller i.d. pops up. “answer”, he demanded. 

“jason, where the hell have you been?”, dick says. he noticed that he sounded…defeated. anxious. and that made jason panic. 

“what? what happened?”, he questioned his older brother. 

on the other end of the line, dick was quiet. he could hear the deep breaths alongside of other people muttering in the back. jason felt the panic and anxiety crawling up inside of him just like moments ago. “dick! answer me, what the hell happened?”, jason yells through the call completing forgetting the kid that looked at him with wide eyes. dick didn’t know how else to tell him. whether it be stalling more and more or yell at him to get his ass back to the manor.

“I-…she’s gone, jason”. 

with that jason was already back on feet turning to run on his heavy weighted boots. each stomp was loud and rushed. without saying goodbye to the boy who pleaded him “wait! wait!”, jason was dead set on running to the direction to the Manor. it was far. but he was quicker than anything. more determined. he couldn’t shake the feeling as he ran. under his breath he muttered, “nonono”. jason repeated it over and over. his worst nightmare has just happened all because he wasn’t there. deep down he didn’t want it to be true. and yet, with one phone call it was. it had to be. even though he didn’t want it to be. 

UH OH! LOOKS LIKE JOKER GOT YOUR GIRL JASON!

LOOKS LIKE YOU ALL FELL FOR IT. 

LOOKS LIKE HE’LL KEEP HER FOR QUITE SOME TIME. TICK TOK BIRDIE.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi my loves!

sorry for going MIA for a while. I’ve been feeling unmotivated for a bit and only been writing my drafts on another website and using that to place the writing on here so that’s why it’s been taking a while for another chapter. and since July is almost done im going to be moving in august. hopefully by than I have a new phone and laptop. I have started writing that one star in the sky remake only the prologue though. next chapter will be about the attack! but I hope you all enjoy this chapter! let me know if you want to be tagged please!

LOVE,

𝓑𝓲𝓷𝔁 <3

tagged: @idkjustsupersonic @edgycatx @heylosers06 @6000-fandoms @swagangelllamawolf @ashleyandanxiety @honey-on-mars @natthernandez @tadpolesxbabyturtles @princessbl0ss0m @dreamsdemxn@vanessa-boo @thebestrouge @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog @devotedlyshadowytheorist @bbiaa420 @aalunar @grandstrangerphantom

BYE BYE, MISS AMERICAN PIE || JASON TODD X WIFE!READER

MASTERLIST || CHAPTER FIVE: BUN AND THE OVEN

SUMMARY: sometimes we deserve more than we think. maybe the good things are a sign? maybe not. jason takes a minute to realize what could become of his life with his wife. while y/n, makes a decision.

PAIRING: JASON TODD X WIFE!READER, with DICK GRAYSON, ALFRED PENNYWORTH, DAMIAN WAYNE, TIM DRAKE AND BRUCE WAYNE.

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HE LOVES HER, AND SHE LOVES HIM.

WHAT GREATER PARENTS RIGHT?

BUT WHAT HAPPENS WHEN A MANIAC CLOWN COMES

IN?

a baby.

are we truly ever ready for something like that? the answer is, fuck no.

not even jason is ever ready. especially y/n. pregnancy can take a big toll on women. with changed hormones. change of body. depression.. hell anything can happen in giving birth. and as his wife had shown him on the app ‘tik tok’ that a girl made a list of ‘REASONS TO NOT HAVE A BABY’. and that specific list made his skin crawl..

“I think I’m pregnant, jay”, is what she said.

and what he did in that bathroom that day, was him being a coward and left. jason was too overwhelmed with thought and panic. he wasn’t ready to be a father. a damaged man like him, he felt he couldn’t. he knows that y/n could be a great mother. but him, a father? no. not after his birth dad. that piece of shit. however, he did love his mother so much…

and here he was, smoking outside by the pool looking at the cemetery that wasn’t as far away from the manor. the same one he used to be buried in. he stopped smoking for a bit. only when he was really stressed or out of it. and where was his wife, y/n? upstairs in jason’s old bedroom, crying her heart out with GINGER by her side.

god, he never felt more like a fucking dick.

speak of dick, jason could sense and smell dick’s strong cologne just behind him. trying to sneak up on him. “if you think trying to scare me is going to work dickie, sorry but seeing bruce naked before already beat you to it”, jason says with almost a dead voice taking a long puff of his cigarette. he could also hear dick snorted like a dork with his sentence. the horrifying image of bruce having a woman in the comfort of his bed when he was younger ruined his brain. “you’re not wrong there baby bird”, dick agrees. and there is was, the famous DICK GRAYSON smirk. behind that smirk, was worry.

the older brother leaned against the doorway that lead to the kitchen looking at jason who looked at the cemetery.

“thought you quit smoking”, dick says in thought with his arms crossed over his chest. jason inhales the cancer stick letting his lips go of it. in two seconds, he let out the heaviest of smoke from a cigarette. in the moonlight, dick could see jason’s wedding ring glistening. “yea well, sometimes a good smoke doesn’t hurt anybody”

“except I don’t smoke jay bird” “what do you want dick?”, jason gets straight to the point. he knows that dick is going to talk to him about ‘manly’ and ‘brotherly’ stuff. not really looking forward to it in his opinion. dick sighs, shifting his legs to cross one another as he leaned against the door. “you seem more out of it than usual. what happened back there?”, he questions with the playfulness from earlier to now downright worry. not willingly to answer dick’s questions, instead jason took another puff.

he knows he was out of it for sure. he almost killed a man earlier in front of his wife’s eyes. something he swore to never EVER do. yet he did. blinded by fear and rage. funny enough, his wife might be pregnant. no kid would want jason as their father. he was always angry, violent, an asshole, the bad traits of his dad. and the more danger of him being RED HOOD and his family being vigilantes themselves. and he can’t have a kid of his to be part of it. not after what happened to him… “look im sure bruce is fine with yo-“ “it’s not about bruce”, jason states.

dick looked at his brother with sheer confusion on what he was talking about until it clicked for him from the events of earlier. “it’s about y/n..”, he says. jason nodded with his messy hair flopping, he really needed a haircut. he took a deep breath before taking one last puff from the stick.

“she alright?”, dick asks innocently about his sister in-law who he only found out about not too long ago.

no, y/n wasn’t alright at all.

with jason’s silence was enough answer for dick to know. he knows jason is really verbal with his feelings like most people are. he’s more of the action type of guy. “was it, from earlier or ?”, dick tries to imply without sounding awkwardly but managed to fail. from what he was implying, it definitely was from earlier but as well from the lack of not feeling physically good due to the constant dizziness and the throwing up.

to be fair, jason is the only person who knows dick is the one to trust. him being the closet to jason after his death, he could guess dick was the only one he could tell everything…well almost everything. dick was the one who managed to try and get into contact with him again. besides bruce and alfred of course.

so, could he tell dick about his wife’s little bean problem?

that answer is, no.

because it wasn’t his voice to tell someone a woman’s situation like that. and if his own wife wasn’t pregnant, would he be happy? somewhat. if he wasn’t so fucked up than he would a lot of kids, that was an exaggeration.

“she’s just, shaken up from all of this”, is how jason told dick. a half lie.

dick can sense the lie. jason always lies when something is wrong or too much, but deciding to not press on…dick looked at him with a downcast look with a tight lipped smile. “alright jay”, he says walking over to him. the entire conversation jay never once turned around to face him. he almost felt like collapsing. like he wanted to scream his fucking head off.

raising a hand on jay’s muscular back, dick clapped on it giving him a small pat. “look, I don’t know anything about this whole ‘marriage thing’ but if you need to talk..let me know. alright jay”, dick reassure him.

he knows dick means well. “I know…”, jason whispers out into the night.

with a firm nod, dick was off ready to head back downstairs to the batcave. time to patrol. while jason stayed there at the manor.

just as dick left him to stare at the cemetery. gravestones popping up, mocking him over and over. the cigarette in between his two finger reach up to his lips only to halt. god, he really need to stop smoking for real. deciding to call it a night, jason threw the cigarette down by his feet before stomping on it with the top of his shoe. giving it a little crush the cigarette dies out with a little flatten body.

jason bent down his upper body to pick up the dead cigarette. he placed it in the palm of his hand now walking away from the doorway. walking over to the kitchen he spots one of the very trash bins, using the same foot he stepped on the paddle. as the top opened, the smell of rotten food and drinks jason dumped the cigarette inside with a little ‘plop’ heard. lifting his foot up, the lid falls back slowly. he placed his hands on his strong hips, jason closed his eyes tilting his head up to the ceiling. it felt like a heavy weight on his shoulder right now. he let out a small breath through his mouth. the sound of the clock in the kitchen ticks.

tick. tick.

he ran a hand through his hair now opening up his eyes, the irises lightly flash a light green. jason walks back to where he once stood moments ago, closing the door only to stop. he looked back up at where the cemetery stands. if he wasn’t here, he would of been there. sometimes he felt he was better off dead.

it was nearly twelve o’clock in the morning already…and jason still hasn’t gone up to go to sleep or even see her. and yet here she laid, waiting for him.

tear stains kissed her skin. they felt tight on her cheeks. she felt…angry? upset? she doesn’t know anymore. everything was too much. she wanted to go home. she had stopped crying for a bit. the emotions and crying and sobbing made her more tired than ever. it was one of those crying moments someone would have.

beside her was their dog, ginger, the german shepherd puppy that was trained to protect her did her job pretty well. not just by protecting her mom but in giving her comfort whenever she needs someone. y/n sniffled heavily, her nose felt clogged with mucus. her hand reaches up to pet ginger by the ears. the soft puppy fur greets her skin kindly. “oh ging”, she whispers watery.

such a sweet girl ginger was. already, the feeling of sleepiness fills her bones. as much as she wanted jason to be by her side, might as well get some more rest. maybe even go to the store…with protection of course she wasn’t stupid. the hand on ginger’s fur stops, lightly laying there. and now, y/n sleeps. with no disturbance to keep her awake. a peaceful yet sad sleep. except, no dream ever enters her at all that night. light snores escapes her along ginger.

heavy footsteps walk extra slow towards the bedroom door, the door knob twists lightly with a squeak. ginger opens her mismatched eyes, her head turns a little to see who was at the door and entering. a non threat. the door opens to present jason. he was greeted with a dark room, the only light giving him the visible view was from the hallway. jason could see a lump on the bed of a familiar figure turned away from jason’s side. along his dog who gave him an side eye before closing her eyes once more. damn, even ginger didn’t want to talk to him.

stepping forward into the dark bedroom of his, he closes the door slowly to make no noise to awaken his wife. jason walks over to the bed where y/n laid, whether she really was asleep or not ran through his head. that was until he stepped to the right to see her face. guilt trails through his veins seeing the same tear streaks on her cheeks. his wife was cuddling with the dog to what seemed to be for comfort and love. one he didn’t give her in that bathroom. damn him.

he made him own wife cry…and he felt like a complete asshole.

jason was hoping to see her and talk to her about what happened earlier but his wife is in need of rest. walking over to the other side of the bed, his side. his large fingers nibble their way to the end of his shirt, he slips it off with a swift move. throwing the shirt on the floor with a small plop. jason sat on the cold bedside of his, the bed slightly dips but not enough to awaken y/n who remained asleep.

his index finger scratched an itch on his forehead, his back turned away from y/n. not even the cigarette could take away the pleasure of being stress-free. running a hand now all over his face in frustration.

jason turns his body to the side to look at y/n, her hair laid messily against the soft pillow cases. he always liked seeing her sleep. she would always say she was an ‘ugly’ sleeper but never to jason. he grinned at the argument him and y/n had about her being the ugly sleeper while he was the peaceful looking one. he really wasn’t especially when nightmares happen.

what feels like an eternity, jason finally lays against the bed. his body turned to y/n. the blanket that once under him lays right on top of him. bringing both him and his wife closer. jason looked at the back of her head in thought, he always cuddled her when he went to bed. and she’ll always melt right in.

he hated when him or y/n went to bed angry, said it wasn’t healthy. expect they both weren’t angry. both have mixed emotions and none of them don’t know what to do. jason lifted up a hand under the blanket, deciding whether or not to even touch her after his actions. he bites his lip still unsure of himself. the hand still up waiting for the next move.

until, his hand finally lands against her warm skin. it soothed down her arm back and forth. she always felt warm to him. jason let go of his lips from his teeth. he moves his whole body closer to y/n’s, wrapping his arm on her waist. near her stomach. her back kissed against the bare ness of his chest. if she was awake, she would of felt the heavy jagged autopsy scar. with y/n in his arm, jason moved his head towards the crook of her neck. he breathed in her scent of lavender oil along some of her nature smell. god he loved that smell. pressing a small kiss on her neck, jason felt his whole body relaxed itself. telling him it’s time to get some sleep already.

“i love you…”, jason lightly whispers into her neck pressing one last kiss in the same spot he kissed before.

his head moves away to rest on the pillowcase, he could feel the cold and the sense of familiarity as times he had slept in his bedroom as a teen. the eyelids shut themselves, blocking his blue eyes. the darkness filling the void. with that, sleep had taken over his mind and body. he too, received a dreamless sleep.

she wasn’t angry.

before jason had awoken from his sleep, y/n had woke up earlier than he did. she sat on the bed, feeling almost zombie like. almost numb. her head was turned towards jason who slept peacefully with one arm under both hers and his pillow. and the other arm laid limply at the spot she once laid. she wasn’t mad at jason, she never could….

she understood his fear and him not being ready to be a dad. but y/n wasn’t ready to bring a child into this world where so much blood is spilled and is filled with hate. no.

y/n gives props to mothers out there. a lot of them just…do it. something she felt like she could never do.

her ringed hand reaches to jason’s arm, the wedding band shining from the sun. she caresses his arm with a soft touch. he always looked peaceful when sleeping. leaning down her upper body, y/n pressed a firm kiss on jason’s forehead. a few hairs tickled her chin.

and with that, y/n gets up from the shared bed to walk over to where alfred had dropped off their belongings. she dug straight in for some fresh pair of leggings, a white tank top, and a bra. she heads in to the bathroom quickly changing the clothes she didn’t get to switch out of last night. and she knows, germs. once y/n was done and now wears the picked clothing, she couldn’t help but look at herself in the mirror. turning to the side, she looked down at her stomach. a hand slowly reaches up, rubbing at the covered skin. y/n sighed, little images of mini jason’s and y/n’s run through her head.

the corners of her lips quirk up at the image. she would imagine, a little baby girl. with big eyes. long soft eyelashes just like jason’s. raven black hair. and the cutest gummy smile. cute.

a knock on the bathroom door alerts her, y/n jumps at the unexpected sound. her hand moves away from her stomach and to her side. “babe?”, she could hear jason ask through the wooden door.

“come in”, she says loudly enough for him to hear her.

the door knobs opens to reveal jason, looking disheveled with his hair messy and lazily opened eyelids. he was still shirtless and only wearing a pair of sweatpants. he’s tall figure leans against the doorway, his eyes scans her form. “hey…”, he says. jason’s voice was more rough after just waking up. y/n swallowed the gulp her throat, “hi..”

both husband and wife stood in the open bathroom, uncertain of what to even say to each other. the two of them were both as exhausted.

deciding to say something first, y/n spoke. “I don’t know if I would want to keep it or not”, she says with a small whisper. y/n starts to play with her fingernails as a way to avoid looking at jason. and while he looked at her, he could see she was nervous. her words hit him straight in his heart. he continued on being silent to let her continue on her sentences. “if I decide, what I want to do. we can talk more later on. right now I just really want to be sure that I am…”.

jason nodded his head. he thought about the words he wanted to say very carefully. he doesn’t want to hurt his wife’s feelings or make her feel a type of way of the situation. “I don’t want you to do something because of me. that’s your choice”, he states in her response. he pushes himself from the doorway and towards y/n who still hasn’t looked up at him.

his large hands reaches to her waist, firmly grasping it. one hand touches her chin, pushing her head up to look at him. her attention to her fingers long gone. and up she sees, is the handsome face of jason’s. the scars illuminated from the light in the bathroom. his messy hair falls forward covering her forehead. “im sorry i walked away last night. I was just…overwhelmed. I know that’s not an excuse. just please, please don’t force yourself to do anything you don’t wanna do. okay?”, he sounded soft. sweet.

she could feel her eyes water from his kind words. god, he was amazing. y/n bites her lips try to stop herself from crying.

“okay?”, jason asks her rubbing his large thumb on her chin to her cheek. y/n stared at his baby blues before nodding. afraid to trust her own voice. jason pulls her in to his bare chest, whispering a quiet ‘okay’. y/n immediately relaxed in his warmth, she could smell him. he smelt like home.

the pair held each other in each other’s arms. these two know how much they love each other. they understood one another. they know what’s their quirks and such, but that doesn’t mean they are the perfect couple. jason makes mistakes. y/n makes mistakes. and yet, whatever path leads them on, they always have each other. secret or not.

how the fuck you use a pregnancy test?

jason and y/n stared down at the stick laying on the ceramic sink in the manor’s bathroom. an hour ago the both of them went out to go to the pharmacy to pick one up, along a pack of goldfish and apple juice. both, had their arms crossed as they stared with confused looks. a pit in their stomach with nerves. “this is stupid”, jason states bluntly. y/n let out an tsk before grabbing the box the stick came with.

reading the simple instructions on the back, she reads out loud enough for jason to listen. jason rolled his eyes childishly as well grabbing the pregnancy stick in his hands. he uncaps the end inspecting it, “you pee on this right?”.

“seems like it”, y/n respond. her eyebrows pinched with a lip bite as she read the rest of the instructions.

two grown adults, that do not know how to use a simple test…huh. “okay, well, do you want me to stay or?”, jason questioned his wife. y/n slowly turned her head towards jason with a lion of disbelief. “no jason I want you to watch me piss on a stick and see if i have conceived your child- NO! I do not want you to stay in here”, y/n says mockingly before grabbing him by the shoulders. turning his body towards the bathroom door, y/n lightly shoved him away.

she could hear him start chuckling at the sarcasm. once jason was out the door, he made sure to close the door behind him leaving y/n alone in the bathroom. and now the creeping feeling as she turned back towards the cursed stick laying by the sink. letting out a breath, her shoulders droop at the feeling. walking over to the sink, y/n picks up the white stick. instructions were, simple in a way. not like she really done this before. her and jay were always, and I mean ALWAYS, careful. might as get it over with, she quickly walks to the porcelain toilet.

already finished with the test, y/n laid a piece of toilet paper on the counter with the pregnancy test on top. “babe? you can come in now”, she yelled out. without looking up from the test itself she could hear jason come in through the door. jason quickly stands right next to y/n, his large arms crossed as he too stared down at the white stick.

“so…you really peed on a test…”, “yup…”

two lines. means pregnant. and one line…hopefully not.

jason could feel the bundle of nerves forming in his stomach, if he was sitting his foot would definitely be shaking from the anxiety. a couple of minutes, and the results come in quickly. but what felt like forever for it to come. y/n could see a line forming. her stomach felt lifted from the anxiety, slowly becoming relief. about to take a deep breath, y/n’s stomach began to sink…

“oh shit”, she whimpered out. her limbs felt limp. her heart felt like it just dropped to her stomach. the breath she longed to let out only sucked in. jason turned his head fast towards y/n in surprise. he leaned forward towards the test, his eyes slightly widen in shock. he closes his eyes in the disbelief he just saw. both of his hands grip the counter firmly, letting his arms hold him up. y/n’s eyes began to water in the realization.

a little bun, in the oven.

with shaky legs, she gets down on the bathroom floor slowly. her hands shaking as well reached up to clasp against the side of her head. y/n lets out ragged breaths. in a fetal position with sitting up, y/n began to cry..the sound of her whimpers alert jason. he perked up at her vulnerability only for him to quickly rush over to her on the floor. “baby…”, jason cooed now collecting her into his arms. gently, he began to rock her back and forth. something y/n found comfort in whenever she had really bad anxiety or panic attacks. usually she would just sit there, and well she wasn’t. “i know baby…”, he whispered pressing a firm kiss against her head.

as much as he was saying ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ in his head millions of times he could beat the world record for saying the word ‘FUCK’, jason could see how devastated his own wife was. this was more harder on y/n than for him to be honest. he knows it is hard yes, but the idea of y/n either pushing out a chubby ass baby from her privates and going through hell yea…she definitely is going through it now. y/n continued to cry in his arms, her hands rub roughly against the sides of her head. jason’s hand reaches up to grab her hand to stop her rough treatment.

“stop stop stop”, jason consoled y/n holding her hand against his lips. he proceeds to press little kisses on her head. “stop…”, he pleads.

y/n sobs loudly against his chest feeling herself began to somewhat calmed down with his soft kisses. her head lightly shoved it’s way deeper into his touch. “I’m sorry jay..I’m sorry”, she apologizes over and over with watery sobs. jason shakes his head gripping onto her more tightly. “stop, stop baby please. it’s not your fault”, he mumbled.

“like I said…it’s your choice in what you want to do. you don’t have to decide right now…I just want you to be happy baby”, he states with loving and reassuring words. hope she feels somewhat better. maybe not. but what jason could do, was support her. and now time will wait…

a knife twirls swiftly against a white gloved finger, a prick of blood seeps through the fabric. in front of the knife and finger was a picture of y/n and jason from the supermarket they had went to a couple of days ago. it laid out on a huge screen just for himself alone. he stared at that photo for hours, days almost. the same photo one of his men had taken of them. “ooOhhh little birdie~”, the voice of a familiar clown purrs.

the photo alone makes him feel excited, full of joy just wanting to get his hands on his favorite robin’s wife.

the screen switches from the supermarket photo to a single picture, y/n in her own kitchen wearing a nightgown waiting for her own husband to come back home to her. a dog laying on the floor. the photo looked to be taken not far from the house itself.

“oh birdie…ill come and get you, and we’ll give him a little surprise”, he continued on purring. the mischief in his voice. show time is happening very soon for both of the couple. but he will say, he enjoys surprises…

“you need anything else?” “no, thank you”, y/n said hiding underneath the heavy comforter. ginger hops up on the bed beside her, sniffing her mother causing y/n squirm a little from the wet nose of her beloved dog. jason grinned at the sight, it took a good couple of minutes till y/n slowly ‘calmed’ down. she says she is fine but really all she wanted to do was crawl in bed and stay there for the next couple of days.

with y/n now in bed, jason decided to go out on patrol with bruce, damian and dick. and stephanie and tim offering to stay with y/n upstairs. but of course, she still doesn’t know about the chosen guards for her in case. “alright, if you need anything don’t hesitate to call me” he says softly. y/n wiggled in the sheets with the top of her head nodding. “especially for snacks?”, jason chuckled giving his wife a pat on her butt. “even for snacks. I’ll see you in the morning”, he leans down to where her covered head was. pressing a small kiss on the sheet giving one last pat on her butt before walking towards the door.

taking off the comforter from her head, her hair becomes messy and staticky. y/n looks down at ginger who laid on her back looking up at the ceiling, paws up. “looks like you will maybe have a sister..or a brother”, y/n says giving ginger a small head scratch. the soft fur soothing her.

y/n uncomfortably sighs out, she stares back at the ceiling. what the hell is she going to do now?

NOW, in the bat-cave with dick, bruce and damian all suited up. jason stood in the middle wearing his red hood suit. practically forcing himself to go out in case any new leads about joker and his men. “ill admit jay, im quite happy you get to go out with us tonight”, dick says now standing in front of jason. sure, he was really happy to have his younger brother with him tonight. jason rolled his eyes, checking the safety of his gun for any stray bullets. “yea yea “, he says to him stuffing the same gun in his holsters. he wants to just have the night end so he can come back and cuddle up with his wife.

“how’s the missus? haven’t seen her the whole day?”, dick questions jason.

jason didn’t know how to describe on how his wife is doing…so instead he just shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.

both dick and bruce noticed jason’s behavior when it came to his wife. even though dick was nosy, he decided to have another brother talk with him later. and bruce, well, he was unsure what to even say or do. he wanted to talk with his son but seeing how he was right now. not a great time especially with joker was after his own daughter in-law. damian, on the other hand squinted behind his mask as he stared at jason with crossed arms. “let’s go”, jason says stuffing his head in his helmet securing it in place.

he walks past both dick and bruce heading over to an motorcycle jason had in the bat cave. the two of them watched him, wondering what was up with the second eldest that made him more quieter than usual tonight.

A BUN IN THE OVEN YOU SAY?

AW THAT IS JUST PRECIOUS. WHAT NOW?

THAT IS A DOUBLE WIN FOR THE JOKER!

MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T KNOW FOR JASON’S SAKE.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi my loves! binx here! woo hoo! chapter five is out yay! a lot of you my loves have been wanting to be tagged for the next part and it warms my heart and makes me so happy!💕 hehe! also thank you everyone for 800 followers my love! im sorry if this was short! I’ve been also busy with other stuff I won’t get into but next chapter is better I promise! I hope you all enjoy!

𝓑𝓲𝓷𝔁 <3

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