The Act Of Stealing A Loved One |1| (Stanley Pines X Reader)

The Act of Stealing a Loved One |1| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

This is a beginning of a prompt I wrote. Please don't expect chapters quickly. Enjoy!

Story guide

Being the wife of a man who went missing was hard. Many told you it was time to move on, many told you he was dead, and hell maybe you should just move on. But if they knew what happened that night, what actually happened to the man you loved, they would know why you couldn't exactly give up hope. You told him to shut it down, to stop what he was doing, hell Stan even did, but none of that would matter.

When he got trapped in the portal, it was the day you shut yourself out from everyone, you moved back to the small town home you two had bought before moving to Gravity Falls, you couldn’t take living in the house he went missing in. Stan kept living in his brothers’ home, turning it into some ‘Mystery Shack’ tourist attraction after a few weeks, which you wanted no part of. And after that, it was just radio silence. You didn’t hear anything from Stanley, nothing about your husband, it was just silence.

10 years went by. You still had hope that he was going to walk in that door and embrace you, telling you about the crazy things he saw while he was away, promising to never leave your side. It was now August 1992. He was smart, he knew about this sort of thing, so he was going to be back in your small home in New Jersey any minute now. That was going to happen… Right?

Another 10 years went by. You were grasping at straws trying to keep the memories you had with him in your mind. It was February 2002. The ring on your finger was a reminder of the love you two had, your hope was beginning to slip away. You stared down at your phone. Some weird new portable phone you finally decided on getting after debating. You should call Stan…

You never ended up calling him.

10 years later you had a car packed, a for sale sign was up in your town home you once lived in. It was now June 2012. Your wedding ring was no longer on your finger, you put it back in its box years ago. He wasn’t coming back, it's been 29 years. You were headed back to Gravity Falls, Oregon. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you didn't know what to think. How would Stan react?

Shit. Stan. You had to call him.

After starting your car, you scroll through your contacts before landing on your brother-in-law, Stan Pines. The contact photo was an old photo of him from your wedding, he was being chased around by some smaller kids who were there tormenting him, thinking it was hilarious, you obviously had the photographer take a photo of it. Looking back on it gave you hope that he was willing to forgive your absence. You dialed his number before you started driving, praying he hasn’t changed it after all these years.

It was on its final ring before someone finally answered “.. kids don't do anything stupid! Ugh…Hello?” he sounded the same as you remember, almost identical to your Stanford. “Hello? If this is some telemarketer im not interested” he said again, you realized you did say anything “Hi! Uh Hi sorry. Stan.. Is that really you?” you heard him spit his water out before coughing, then clearing his throat “Y/n.. it’s you. Um, geez sorry not good at this, why are you calling me? It's been 29 years..” He sounded off put by you calling him. “I’m heading back to Gravity Falls Stan, I was hoping I could see you? Unless you don't want to then-” “Quit rambling.. You're sure you want to see me after all these years? I did uh, take over your old home” Stan muttered into the phone “That wasn’t my home Stan, and yes I'm sure. I'm driving so it'll be a couple days until I arrive. I have a place already so don't worry” You sigh slightly

“Grunkle Stan who are you talking to! Is it a girl?” you can hear a younger girl on the other side of the line, you must be on speaker. “Who’s that?” you ponder “It's no one” Stan quickly replies, hearing the girl gasp “Y/n Pines?! Grunkle Stan! You’re married?! DIPPER YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE THIS” She had to have seen the caller ID. Guess he just added you as a contact “Mabel you get back here! Shit, Y/n I gotta go, I’ll get it sorted out. I can’t wait to see you” Stan grumbles before hanging up. You slightly smile at the interaction.

You marrying Stanley? Hard pass.

Taglist: @cherryblom @leo4242564

vii. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Mentions of overdosing, Pills, Non-sexual intimacy, Mentions of death AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

The blood drained from Damian’s face, leaving him ashen and hollow. The horrifying truth sank in—you thought he was going to kill you. And he had nearly done it.

“No... no, no, no...” The words tumbled from Damian in a panicked whisper.

He dropped to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, but hesitating, afraid to touch you and cause more harm.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, guilt choking his voice. His fingers hovered near your skin, close enough to feel your warmth but hesitant to make contact.

“My sweet girl, you’re safe with me.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

DANGER. 

Instinct screamed louder than thought, flooding your veins with raw, primal fear—a visceral, choking terror that clawed at your chest.

Panic clawed its way up your spine, gripping your heart in a vice, as if every nerve in your body had been doused in ice. The sound that followed, the sickening lurch in your stomach, and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe— 

The blade pressed closer, its cold edge grazing your skin. White slits, the only features visible on Robin’s shadowed face, stared down at you from behind the blur of your vision. The edge of a rain-soaked cape trailed down, droplets mingling with the blood pooling on the floor. 

You couldn’t breathe. You were staring up at your own death, and you couldn’t breathe. 

“Don’t—” 

With a breath that felt like a desperate gasp for air, you crawled away from the blade, pleading for your life in ragged, broken whispers. 

Each inch you moved felt like wading through water, the crushing weight of fear dragging you down. Your helmet had long since uncloaked, and the remnants of your damaged suit clung to you, cracked and broken. Some pieces of the shattered armor lay scattered around. 

That white gaze slithered over the spider emblem on your chest piece, coiled around it, heavy with unspoken realization, before slowly unwinding to meet yours.

“Habibti?” 

For a moment, everything seemed to stop.

“It was you?” Damian’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with horror and disbelief. 

But then his expression shifted, confusion and hurt twisting into something darker. His brows furrowed, and his mouth set into a hard line.

"Why did you hide this from me?" Damian growled, voice rough as if dragged over gravel. His teeth ground together with a harsh, grating sound. As he advanced toward you, his hands shook, the katana gripped tightly in his trembling fingers. His knuckles were white with the strain.

“Why didn’t you trust me?!”  

Your head spun, confusion and fear intertwining—what was he talking about? You couldn’t—didn’t—understand. 

Damian’s boot came down on your chest with a bone-jarring thud, the impact forcing a violent flinch from you. Your torso buckled under the pressure.

“Stop—” you croaked, your fingers digging desperately into the worn leather and scuffed rubber of his shoes.  “What—what’s this about? I—I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but don’t—don’t you dare lay a hand on me!”

Damian hesitated for a fraction of a second, but his anger remained tightly coiled, ready to snap.

With a choked, anguished apology, you summoned your strength and swung at him. The punch landed solidly on his jaw, causing Damian to stumble back in shock. 

Seizing the moment, you scrambled away, but he surged forward with a swift, diagonal slash. The katana sliced through the air with a high-pitched whistle, narrowly missing your shoulder as you ducked and recoiled.

“Ngh!” you grunted as you hit the ground hard on your chest. Turning quickly, you saw Damian drawing his sword up. You paled and curled into yourself.

DANGER. 

Heaving, Damian held the sword up, his breath coming in ragged bursts. Anger consumed him, his entire being trembling with the force of it. But amid the storm of rage, flashes of clarity began to pierce through the haze. He saw the fear in your eyes, the way you shrank away from him.

The katana slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor with a cold, final sound.

CLANK.

The fury that had burned so fiercely began to crack, replaced by dawning horror. Damian stumbled back, eyes wide, chest heaving. What was he doing?

“Fuck,” he rasped, his voice cracking as he knelt before you, reaching out with trembling hands. But you recoiled, pressing yourself against the floor, the fear too fresh, too consuming.

“Please, don’t,” you gasped, voice shaking. “I’m not—please, just don’t... I’m begging you—”

The blood drained from Damian’s face, leaving him ashen and hollow. The horrifying truth sank in—you thought he was going to kill you. And he had nearly done it.

“No... no, no, no...” The words tumbled from Damian in a panicked whisper.

He dropped to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, but hesitating, afraid to touch you and cause more harm.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, guilt choking his voice. His fingers hovered near your skin, close enough to feel your warmth but hesitant to make contact.

“My sweet girl, you’re safe with me,” Damian whispered, his voice trembling. He pressed the emergency button on his watch, and an urgent alert blared out, sending a distress signal to the nearest Bat-vigilante.

You wanted to respond, to reach out, to say something. But the panic had you in a vice grip, squeezing your throat and chest, rendering you mute.

“Habibti, you need to breathe,” Damian urged gently.

You shook your head, the motion making the pain flare up again. 

“I—” you choked, “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he insisted.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the pain, but it only seemed to make it worse. The fear clawed at your chest, leaving you gasping.

“It hurts,” you whimpered, every breath a battle.

“I know it does, but you have to breathe. Breathe with me.” His tone was calm, grounding you even as you looked up at him through a blur of tears.

Damian’s hands numbed as he started to assess your injuries, pushing down his rising panic to focus on the task at hand. His training took over, and he methodically began an examination. 

He gently tilted your head, inspecting the gash on your brow. Blood smeared across your face, and the cut was deep—likely requiring stitches. He checked your pupils by shining a small flashlight from his utility belt into your eyes to assess for a concussion. Thankfully, none. 

When you shifted and winced in pain, Damian’s attention fell on your leg. He carefully palpated around your ankle, noting the swelling and deformity. 

“Broken,” he murmured.

The tense moment shattered with a metallic clang and the sharp sound of a grappling hook. Damian looked up to see Nightwing’s silhouette framed by the window. Dick’s face turned grim as he took in the scene, his eyes locking onto Damian’s with a look of horror.

“No time for explanations,” Damian said, lifting you from the ground. “We need to get her to the Cave—now.”

“No...” you murmured weakly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Both men turned to you, concern etched deeply into their brows as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Your head lolled back, and the darkness around you seemed to thicken, fueled by the poison coursing through your veins. “The Batcave... it’s too far...”

“Then we’ll bring the supplies here,” Damian grit out. He tightened his grip on you, trying to make you as comfortable as possible. “I’m not letting you go. Not now.”

The conversation between Nightwing and Damian became a muted blur. You felt yourself being carefully lowered onto the couch, strong arms guiding you down. A hand threaded into yours with a reassuring grip.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to muster the strength to reach for the comm link in your ear. Your hand trembled as you raised it, fingers just closing around the device when the door burst open. Morgan stumbled in, breathless and disheveled, clutching a bag tightly in her hand.

Your eyes locked onto hers, and she let out a sigh of relief. “Y/N.”

The moment she spoke your name, Damian paused.

The warmth in his eyes slowly hardened, replaced by a chilling coldness. 

In a heartbeat, he was across the room, moving with terrifying speed. He grabbed Morgan and slammed her against the wall with such force that the impact stole the breath from her lungs.

“Damian! Wait—” you winced, trying to lift yourself off the couch, but Dick was quicker, gently but firmly pushing you back down.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Damian snarled. The words dripped from his lips like venom as he rammed his forearm against Morgan’s ribs. “You shouldn’t be—”

“Holy shit,” Morgan sputtered, cutting him off with a heave. “Did—Did she just say Damian? You’re Robin?”

Damian’s arm pushed harder, his anger unabated.

“Answer me,” Damian snapped. The white slits in his mask glared at her like twin spots of ice. “You’ll explain what you’re doing here before I ensure you regret ever stepping foot in this place.”

“What the hell, dude?” Morgan shot back, pushing against his arm. “What’s your problem? I’m here trying to help!”

Damian’s grip tightened, suspicion deepening. “Help? How did you even find us?”

Morgan met his gaze without flinching. “I followed the signal from her comm link. I’m not here to mess with you, Batboy. And I sure as hell don’t have time for this bullshit! She’s seconds away from dying from poisoning!”

The word struck Damian like a physical blow. His shoulders stiffened, then faltered slightly, revealing a flicker of genuine panic. “Poison?”

Morgan rolled her eyes, exasperation lacing her voice. “Yes, genius. That’s what I said. Now, unless you want her to die on your watch, you need to get the hell out of my way and let me work.”

Damian staggered back, momentarily off-balance as Morgan forcefully shoved him aside. Without missing a beat, she moved to your side, setting her bag on the floor and beginning to unpack multiple bottles and syringes. 

“Hey,” she said, glancing at you with a frown. “How’s it going so far?”

“Trying not to die,” you croaked. 

“Well, try to hold on a bit longer. I haven't even started saving your ass yet.”

Damian and Dick hovered nearby, their eyes following every movement as Morgan set to work.

Her fingers moved quickly as she wiped down your arm with a sterile antiseptic, the scent of alcohol wafting up your nose.

“This is a batch I made following the journal I found,” Morgan explained. She drew a syringe filled with the antidote, the liquid swirling inside. As she gently pierced the needle into your arm, you felt a brief, sharp sting followed by a wave of coldness spreading from the injection site.

Gradually, the haze of disorientation and the crushing weight of nausea began to lift. The world around you came into sharper focus, and a soothing numbness slowly spread through your limbs.

“Stay with me,” Morgan said, tapping your cheek. “Need some painkillers?”

You nodded weakly, struggling to grasp the sudden clarity returning to you. The pain was still present but had dulled.

“Please,” you said, holding out a hand. “I think... I think the toxin’s affecting my healing.”

Morgan reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of fentanyl, dropping it into your hand. Clutching it tightly, you fumbled with the bottle of pills, your hands trembling. 

Twisting the cap off, you quickly poured a handful of tablets into your mouth. The sharp, bitter taste assaulted your tongue, making you grimace as it spread across the inside of your cheeks.

Both Dick and Damian reacted with strangled shouts.

“Stop!” Damian snapped. He lunged forward, his hands clamping onto your wrists in a desperate, vice-like grip. The pill bottle slipped from your grasp as Damian hurled it away, sending the remaining pills scattering across the floors. “What the hell are you doing?!”

You tried to speak, but the words were lost in a hacking cough that wracked your body. Dick’s face turned ghostly pale as he scrambled to pull some of the pills from your mouth, his hands shaking as he dropped them to the floor.

Morgan, now holding a syringe filled with a second dose, glanced between the two men, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. To her, it seemed as if they had completely lost their minds. 

You and Morgan exchanged looks of disbelief.

“How many did she take?” Dick demanded, his voice trembling as he grabbed the pill bottle and frantically scanned the label. His eyes widened as he read the text, shifting from confusion to horror. “Holy shit! I think I counted ten! That’s way over the safe dose!”

“That’s far from her limit!” Morgan snapped back. “She needs more, not less! The dosage for her is higher.”

Damian’s face flushed an alarming shade of red, his anger boiling over. A rapid stream of Arabic curses burst from him before he switched back to English with a snarl. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Just pumping her full of drugs and hoping for the best?!” 

Damian swatted the syringe Morgan tried to bring closer, snapping, “Your incompetence makes it a miracle she’s still alive!”

“Don’t lecture me, you oversized Boy Scout! She’s not a regular patient. You don’t get the dosage she needs. She’s not like you—” Morgan cut herself off, and shakes her head with a frustrated groan. “Look! Either you help or you get out of my way!”

Damian’s hands twitched at his sides, his fingers trailing dangerously close to the blade strapped to his utility belt. 

Cursing under your breath, you reached out, your hand grasping his wrist. 

“Dames, it’s fine,” you whispered, your fingers resting on his pulse point, feeling the rapid thrum beneath your touch. “Let Morgan do her job.”

“Beloved,” he glowered. “I will not allow this—”

“I’m a meta,” you cut him off.

A meta. You’d never said it out loud before—not like this, not even with Selina or Morgan. The word felt alien, a part of yourself you couldn’t quite embrace or accept, even within your own mind. It was as if naming it made it all too real, too undeniable.

The argument that had just moments ago filled the space with heated voices and frantic movement came to a halt. 

The apologetic look Morgan sent your way stung, intensifying the ache in your chest. She had known, of course—known what you were and had still stuck by your side.

That meant something, didn’t it? That maybe not everyone would see you as a threat. But Morgan wasn’t Batman. She wasn’t the one who held the city’s safety in his hands, who made decisions that could alter lives in the blink of an eye. 

"Fuck," Dick heaved a sigh and began to pace the room, a tense set in his shoulders. Damian’s face twisted into something unreadable as he stared at you. 

Meta. The word bounced around in his head.

Raised in a world of absolutes—right and wrong, justice and vengeance, friend and foe—Damian had little experience with gray areas. 

Metas had always been... complicated. Potential threats, variables that couldn’t be controlled. And now you, the person he cared for most, were one of them.

'What would Father say?' Damian thought as he edged closer, his movements hesitant, as he extended the pill bottle to you. His fingers trembled over the label. The bottle was just a vessel for what you needed, and you took it, swallowing the remaining pills.

As he sank to his knees beside you, his head bowed, his bangs falling over his eyes, he stared at his gloves, now darkened with the blood that had flowed from you.

Batman’s code was clear—protect the city, maintain control, and apprehend threats. If Batman found out—no, when Batman found out—what would Damian do? If Batman decided you were dangerous...

Damian tips his face into your side and sighs.

With the human barrier out of the way, Morgan resumed her work, administering the dose. The sting of the syringe was a distant sensation, barely registering through the fog in your mind.

“So...” Morgan murmured, the words heavy like syrup and lathered with forced lightness as she finished administering the tenth and final dose. “You guys into birds or something?”

You managed a small, tired smile and nudged her shoulder.

Damian lifted his head, meeting Morgan's gaze with a blank, white stare.

“What?" Morgan frowned. “You two show up with bird costumes and expect me not to ask questions? I need to know if this is some sort of family tradition."

The tension in the room began to ease, the atmosphere shifting from the intense panic of moments ago to something almost resembling normalcy—as normal as two vigilantes and one spider person could get.

You took a deep breath and slowly sat up, despite the weariness pulling at your limbs. Damian immediately moved to stop you, but you waved him off with a tired sigh.

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “Fast healing.”

Your eyes scanned the wreckage of the room, taking in the damage. The shattered window was a jagged lattice of sharp edges, with fragments scattered across the floor like deadly confetti.

“Mom’s gonna kill me,” you muttered, the weight of it all finally hitting you.

“Let’s focus on getting you back on your feet first,” Morgan said, shrugging. “The window can wait. Plus, I’m pretty sure we can come up with a good excuse. Maybe blame it on a freak bird accident?”

You glanced at the two men in the room. 

“Oh, it’s definitely a bird accident,” you quipped, the double meaning not lost on them.

Morgan rolled her eyes playfully, though her gaze softened with genuine concern. She moved toward a nearby closet, retrieving a broom and dustpan. “I’ll, uh... start cleaning up.”

The room fell into a quiet, contemplative silence. Dick stood there for a long moment, his eyes lost in thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with an emotion that was hard to pinpoint, his gaze flicking between you and Damian.

“So...” he began, the word hanging in the air. “What happened?”

Damian seemed to collapse inward, his shoulders curling as guilt bubbled up within him. He grumbled softly, moving to slip off his domino mask. As it came away, vibrant forests met your gaze with smudged black eye paint still clinging to his lids. 

Turning away, you sighed and ruffled your tangled hair, finding the motion oddly comforting. The persistent itching in your ankle and ribs was a constant reminder that your healing factor was still at work, not yet finished mending the damage from your earlier crashes.

"A lot," you replied, biting your lip as you addressed Damian. "Why did you...? I... I thought you were coming after me because of, uh, what I’ve been doing at Ivy's, but... I just don’t understand. Why? Why did you—"

Damian's head whips up, his jade eyes blazing. "What? I—You never told me you were a vigilante."

You blink at him, stupefied. "I did! I told you the night of the dinner!"

Damian’s eyes widen in disbelief. 

“No, you didn’t. You mentioned—” He stumbles over his words. “You only said you were—” His voice trails off as his expression turns grave. His lips press into a thin line, realization washing over him.

“Oh.” The single word is barely audible.

“You—” he stammers, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find the right words but failing. “I— I can’t believe this.”

Beet-red, he shakes his head vigorously, trying to dislodge the weight of his own mistake. 

“It’s my fault. I misunderstood. I didn’t realize...” As he trails off, his face flushes a deeper shade of red, blotchy patches spreading across his cheeks and forehead. He’s clearly mortified, his eyes cast downward as if he could sink into the floor to escape this. 

“What?” you sputter, completely bewildered.

Damian groans, burying his face into his knees. “I thought you were being hunted down...”

You jump in surprise and let out a soft scoff, placing a soothing hand on the back of his head and gently running your fingers through the scrape of his undercut. “Damian, seriously? You thought I was being hunted by my own... what, my secret identity?”

He nods against the kevlar of his suit, voice muffled and strained. “I thought... you were in danger. I didn’t realize— I didn’t make the connection.”

Dick, watching this whole exchange, finally lets out a huff and nods. “We all thought you were in danger. Guess we jumped the gun a bit. We were convinced you were being targeted by some rogue vigilante. Not exactly our finest hour.”

You turn to Dick with a weak, unintelligible croak. “And what, you didn’t think to double-check?”

“I am aware of how ridiculous we look right now.”

You wince as you lift your fingers to your temple, massaging it gently. Peering down at Damian through your lashes, you glare. “Ugh. You know... you threw me against the floor pretty hard...”

“I did not mean to hurt you,” Damian seethes, mouth dry and throat tight with regret. “But please, help me understand. What’s really going on?”

“You didn’t exactly make it easy to talk about everything when you slammed me into the ground,” you mumble, a hint of petulance creeping into your tone.

You know you’re being petty, but you feel justified. You rub your temple a bit harder, trying to chase away the pain.

His eyes flash with hurt, and you instantly taste bitterness in your mouth.

“I did not intend to be so forceful,” Damian says, his voice strained. “It’s just... with everything happening, I’m scared. I need to know what’s going on, Y/N. Please.”

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, you lean forward, pressing your hands together. “Okay, let's go over everything, yeah? ”

You start to remove whatever was left of your armor, letting it clatter to the floor with a dull thud. Rolling up the sleeves of your undershirt, you extend your arms, revealing the small dots on your wrists.

“I got bitten by a radioactive spider,” you begin. “Trained for a while. Months, actually. Been Spidey ever since. Lately, the media’s been calling me Nightcrawler. I’ve been stopping muggings, robberies, saving Morgan—twice, by the way. She saved me after I got shot. Then blackmailed me into letting her be my ‘guy in the chair. Then I infiltrated a shipment tied to Black Mask. Morgan built me this new suit. I got interviewed while lifting a helicopter with one hand, and... yeah, I ended up getting velocity edits on TikTok. Then, we hit up Poison Ivy’s old warehouse tonight, and Damian tried to hunt me down. And... here we are.”

Damian stares at you, his expression unreadable. Dick remains frozen, caught off guard. Morgan shifts awkwardly, reaching into her pocket and slowly pulling out her phone, waving it in the air.

“Do you guys want to see the edits?”

You shoot her a withering look.

“Shut up,” you groan, throwing a piece of your armor at her.

Morgan ducks, her phone clattering to the floor. Pouting, she picks it up with a scoff. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

She shoves the phone back into her pocket with a huff. “No more distractions.”

“So…” Dick crosses his arms. “You’ve been doing this alone? All this time?” 

“Not alone,” you clarify, glancing at Morgan. “Morgan’s been helping me. Keeping me sane. And... I’ve had Selina’s guidance.”

“And good thing too,” Morgan adds, her voice taking on a more serious note. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small, sleek device—a handheld scanner designed to detect injuries.

You straighten up, already familiar with the drill. Morgan’s device emits a soft, rhythmic beep as she runs it over your body, her eyes flicking to the screen.

PEPPER’s voice begins to speak, calm and clinical. “Regenerative healing is in progress. The antidote is fully effective, expected to take effect in about 30 minutes. Current injuries: broken ribs, fractured ankle, head gash, deep abrasions, and internal bruising. Estimated healing time: 7 hours. A bath is recommended for disinfection.”

Morgan, visibly relieved by the update, ruffles her hair and shuts off the device with a satisfied click. She looks around, trying to gauge the mood. 

“Well,” she says, “you heard her.”

“I’m never going to get tired of hearing PEPPER,” you smile, wincing slightly as you toe off your flats

Morgan rolls her eyes but manages a small smirk. “You hear her every week,” she retorts, shaking her head.

Footsteps thud heavily across the wooden floor as you stride across the room. The blood has been wiped off the floor, and the shards of glass are gone, but the broken window still gapes open. Explaining that to Selina later is going to be hell.

"You guys should head out," you murmur, glancing back at them. "Mom will be back soon."

Damian’s jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer. “I’m not leaving.”

Morgan huffs, crossing her arms. “Mm… No way. I’m staying put.”

Blinking slowly at the two of them, you grumble, “Yeah, I expected that.”

Turning to Dick, who’s been standing off to the side, you raise an eyebrow, silently pleading for some backup.

“I’ll… go,” Dick finally says, holding up his hands in surrender. “It makes more sense if both of them are here, but not exactly me.”

You nod appreciatively, a flicker of relief crossing your face. 

Dick moves toward a non-broken window but pauses, casting one last glance over his shoulder.

“I won’t tell B.”

“I know,” you murmur, offering him a faint, resigned smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“But… he’ll know eventually.”

“… I know.”

Dick’s nod carries the weight of the unspoken, a silent agreement between you. He steps onto the sill, the night air brushing past him, and the curtains flutter gently in his wake. The soft rustling of the fabric is the only sound as he disappears into the darkness.

You take a step towards the window to close it, but Damian strides over, cutting you off as he shuts it for you. His movements are quick, almost too quick like he’s trying to protect you from even the smallest of tasks.

You raise an eyebrow at him, caught between amusement and exasperation. 

“You’re still injured.”

Oh boy. You can already feel the arguments bubbling up, ready to spill out—reasons to defend your choices, to insist that you’re fine, that you can handle it. But the fight drains out of you before it begins. You’re too tired, too worn down from everything that’s happened.

“Alright,” you murmur, opting for a softer approach, hoping to defuse the tension before it flares. Your eyes drift to the remnants of your suit, lying crumpled on the floor, torn and battered. “Hey, Morgz. Can you handle… that?”

Morgan follows your gaze to the suit, then nods. 

“Sure thing,” she replies, already moving toward it in fix-it mode, likely running through a mental checklist of what she needs to do to patch it up.

Turning back to Damian, you step closer, slipping your hands over his shoulders. His muscles are coiled tight beneath your touch, like springs wound too tightly. 

You give his shoulders a gentle squeeze, your fingers pressing into the solid muscle, trying to ease some of the tension, even if just a little.

“As for you… we really need to get changed,” you say, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “We’re soaking the floors here.”

Damian nods silently, his gaze softening as he follows you into the apartment’s bathroom. The door clicks shut behind you, sealing off the rest of the world.

With gentle hands, Damian reaches for your undershirt, his fingers brushing against your skin as he helps you peel the damp fabric away. The material clings stubbornly, but he works patiently, careful not to rush or cause you any discomfort. Finally, the shirt comes free, and he lets it fall to the floor.

He kneels down, his hands steady as he slips your leggings down your legs, his touch light and deliberate, as if he’s handling something fragile. Once the clothes are off, he lets them drop with a soft thud, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours.

Without a word, he turns to the shower, twisting the knob until water rushes out in a steady stream. Warmth seeps into the air, the foggy mirror reflecting the both of you in a hazy outline. 

Damian wastes no time unclasping his cape, letting it fall to the floor in a dark, heavy pool. He then quickly strips out of his tunic, the fabric clinging stubbornly to his skin before he pulls it off with a yank. 

The tunic lands in a crumpled heap beside the cape, and your gaze is drawn to the red "R" emblazoned on his uniform. Your eyes lift to find Damian’s bare chest revealed—bronze skin etched with hard-earned muscle and a long, faded scar that traces a path across his ribcage. 

Tugging his hands up, you began to slip off his gloves, the dark stain of blood transferring to your own skin. The crimson smear seeped down your fingers, dripping onto the bathroom floor and forming dark, splotchy patterns on the tiles. 

When the blood was gone from his hands, you didn’t let go. Instead, you held onto his hands, feeling the slight tremor in them. 

You stayed like that, holding his hands until the shaking subsided, until the tremors ceased and the strength you knew he had began to return to his grip. 

Damian tightens his grip on your hand and pulls you under the shower with him, the warm water cascading over your bodies in a soothing wave. It’s a relief, the heat working its way into your sore muscles, washing away the grime, blood, and sweat from your skin. 

For a moment, neither of you speaks. 

Silently, you trace a nail along a scar on his collarbone. The only sound is the steady patter of water against tile.

"I'm going to start patrolling with you."

You feel a muscle twitch in your jaw as Damian says that.

"Damian, you're not patrolling with me."

"Yes, I am."

"Damian, no."

"Damian, yes," he insists. “I'm coming with you. I've seen Gotham, and I've been doing this much longer than you have."

“Rub it in. Okay,” you scoff. 

“Beloved, I’m trained for this.”

“I’m perfectly capable of handling this on my own.”

“That’s not the point. You can’t predict every danger.”

He’s not backing down. And you know, deep down, that this isn’t a battle you’re going to win.

With a strangled groan that rumbles up your throat, you lean into his chest, the warm, solid presence of him offering a small comfort. 

“Ugh. Fine, but I’m the one who gets to pick out the patrol routes.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 3:02 AM - Crime Alley, Gotham City.

A whip drags across the crumbling floor of the rooftop, its leather coiling and uncoiling with each step, like a serpent following its master. The sharp clicks of heels against the roof echo through the stillness of the night.

A bag, stuffed with Selina’s latest haul, is slung casually over her shoulder, the weight barely slowing her down. The contents shift with each step, the muted clink of stolen treasures singing to her. 

She hums a low, sultry tune, the sound barely more than a whisper against the backdrop of the city’s quiet. Her gaze sweeps across the rooftop and lands on her apartment building. Her eyes narrow at the sight of a broken window. 

The playful melody dies on her lips, her steps slowing to a halt. “Seems a stray found its way in.”

With a quick flick of her tongue against her teeth, she leaps down to the fire escape.

The faint creak of metal under her heels is the only sound as she crouches. The sight that greets her sends alarms ringing in her head—the door to her apartment is kicked open, the metal railing bent and dented, signs of a struggle or a forceful entry.

Selina creeps closer, moving silently as she readies herself. But suddenly, she freezes. The sound of voices drifts through the walls, muffled yet unmistakably clear.

"—f we like... cut off your hand, do you think it'll grow back?"

"I dunno. Wanna try cutting my hand off, Morgz?"

"What?! Habibti. No. Absolutely not."

"But think about the science! What if her arm grows back, like, full-on lizard style?"

"Yeah, but what if it grows back all freaky? Like, what if I end up with two thumbs or something?"

"Or better—what if you grow back a tentacle?"

"Oh my God. I could totally kick ass as a walking calamari."

"Are you two out of your damn minds? I forbid it. We're not amputating anything."

"Killjoy."

Selina walks in, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the scene. The three of you are curled up on the sofa, with a ridiculous TV show playing in the background that no one is actually watching.

Her gaze locks on Morgan, and she quickly realizes she needs to keep her presence discreet. With a swift glance around, she silently slips into her bedroom.

Moments later, she reemerges in civilian clothes. She steps back out of the apartment, pretends to head down the hallway, then doubles back and quietly slips inside once more.

Damian is the first to notice her, and he immediately tenses, like a kid caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Do I even want to know what's going on here?" Selina asks, one eyebrow arching as she looks at the three of you.

Damian straightens up, attempting to look composed.

Morgan smiles sheepishly, "Hello, Miss Selina."

You shift uncomfortably, letting out a sigh. 

“Hey, Mom.” You nod towards the broken window, and Selina’s gaze follows. “So… um, things got a little out of hand tonight.”

Selina's eyes flick between the broken window and the three of you. "You think?

She tries to shut the door behind her, but it barely clings to the frame, tilting awkwardly on its splintered hinges. The wood creaks in protest, a low groan that echoes through the room as she shoves it into place.

Damian flushes, his shoulders hunching as if trying to make himself smaller, knowing full well he’s the one responsible for the damage. You place a reassuring hand on his thigh, tapping gently, hoping to ease his embarrassment. 

The knowing look Selina sends him suggests she’s already pieced together what happened.

Moving toward you, Selina gently cradles your face in her hands, her nails lightly tracing over your injuries.

“Hey ma,” you murmur.

You lean into her touch, feeling the exhaustion of the night seep away as her warmth envelopes you. She meets your gaze with a tender, concerned look, her eyes brimming with both worry and motherly affection.

"What happened to your face?" Selina starts. Her eyes flick from the bruises on your arms to the bandaged cut on your forehead, then to the dark circles under your eyes. "And what the hell did you do to my apartment?"

You wince a bit under her touch but try to shrug it off nonchalantly. “Oh, this? Yeah. Yeah, I was… uh, fixing the window.”

“Fixing the window?” she repeats. “Why? You do know we have repairs scheduled monthly?”

“Whaaat?” you gasp, playing up your confusion. “I mean, I’m sure it needed it. Maybe.”

“It wasn’t even broken before I left. Did you break it on purpose just to fix it?”

You blink, looking baffled. “Seemed like a good idea at the time?”

“Um, hi! Mrs. Selina,” Morgan chimes in, her tone awkward. “Actually, you see, we’ve got this event at Stark Industries coming up. We were, uh, testing some new tech, and it didn’t go exactly as planned.”

You jump in, nodding vigorously. Morgan discreetly hands you a small gadget, which you hold up for Selina to see. “Right. I didn’t expect it to work as well as it did. We were hoping for a few tweaks, but it kind of... overperformed.”

Selina eyes the gadget and shakes her head. “Overperformed? Is that what you’re calling it now?”

Morgan hums. "Yep, pretty much. The tech’s still in beta, so it’s got some quirks.”

Selina just nods, clearly unimpressed. "Still. Did you have to experiment in my apartment? I still remember that time you overcharged a set of batteries for a project and nearly blew up the kitchen."

You cringe, rubbing the back of your neck. “That was in fourth grade.”

“Ten-year-olds don’t typically run experiments on household electronics and nearly blow up the kitchen. That’s when I knew something was wrong with you,” Selina says, her gaze drifting to Damian, confusion gradually clouding her features. “And why is he here?”

“I’m helping with the project and the funding,” Damian quips, the lie slipping off his tongue like honey as he glances at you for confirmation. “Isn’t that right, beloved?”

You nod, playing along. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Selina’s eyes narrow as she processes this. “Isn’t Stark Tech rich enough to cover all of this?”

Morgan shrugs casually. “Oh, sure, Stark’s handling the main tech stuff. But Damian’s covering the extra costs—like her decorations and outfits for the semi-formal event.”

Damian steps in, his tone polite but firm. "Precisely why we came to your apartment, Miss Kyle. I was hoping to ask for your permission to take her out tomorrow. We’ll be shopping for her gown. And if you’d like, you could join us."

You blink, caught off guard. "Uh..."

Selina considers Damian’s question for a moment, then shakes her head with a sigh. "No can do. I have a... job arranged tomorrow. And I need to get that—" she points to the broken window with a frown—"looked at."

Ruffling her hair in frustration, she turns back toward her bedroom. "You have my permission, though. Just please—don’t turn my apartment into a lab next time."

"Okay! Thanks," you rush out, your voice a bit too eager. "Love you, Mom!"

Selina pauses at the doorway, humming in acknowledgment. She casts one last, assessing glance at the mess, her eyes narrowing slightly, before slipping into her room and muttering about needing to call a repair service again. 

As the door swings shut behind her, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling the tension slowly ease from your shoulders.

Morgan turns to you. "That was close."

“Too close,” you agree, then turn to Damian with a scowl. “What the hell? You realize we actually have to go shopping tomorrow, right?”

Damian hums, his gaze settling on you with that infuriatingly charming smolder—dark, intense, and undeniably attractive. “Yes, I do.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Are you doing this to try and make up?”

Damian’s expression shifts, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. It boiled his blood to think about this, but he had a habit of torturing himself over mistakes.

“It’s the least I could do,” he murmurs. “I almost…”

He trails off, lost in thought. His gaze turns distant, haunted. “I thought, if I could at least do something—anything—to make up for it, maybe it would help... even a little.”

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm. 

“Nope. None of that,” you hush him softly. “We’re moving forward. We both are.”

Damian nods slowly, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. You rub his arm soothingly, then turn to Morgan with a raised brow. Morgan shrugs and holds up her hands in a mock surrender.

“The tech event is a real thing,” Morgan says, her tone matter-of-fact. “You didn’t think the internship was just a cover-up for all of this, did you?”

“Seriously? You guys actually have an event planned?” you ask, disbelief creeping into your voice.

“Yep. It’s the real deal and going to be a big deal. The whole fancy gown and decorations? Totally legit. We just had a few... detours so I couldn’t tell you.”

“What?” you groan, frustration mounting. “You didn’t tell me about this. I don’t even have a project ready to show!”

Morgan waves a dismissive hand, her grin widening. "Don’t worry, I’ll help with that. You still got a week and you’re a genius. The event’s about showcasing potential, not just completed projects. We can work something up, no sweat."

You roll your eyes. "Great, so we’re officially winging a multimillion-dollar internship offer that every single press outlet in Gotham is covering. No pressure, right?"

“Yep.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 4:13 AM - Stark Tower, Gotham City.

The elevator doors slide open with a soft whoosh, revealing the dimly lit tech area of Stark Tower. You and Morgan step out, with Damian trailing behind, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. 

Despite your protests about your healing ankle, he supported you the entire way here. The pain is mostly gone, but Damian’s insistence on playing nurse seems stronger than your actual injury.

Though you can’t help but notice the way he’s gripping you—a bit too tightly for comfort.

The three of you step out of the elevator and begin walking down the corridor. The air is crisp and slightly cool, carrying the faint scent of metal and polished surfaces. 

“Dad wants you to give the opening speech, by the way,” Morgan says, threading her fingers through her hair as she leads you both around a turn in the hallway. 

“Seriously? I’m not really a speech person,” you reply, knocking your shoe into hers. “Why don’t you do it instead?”

Morgan flashes a knowing smirk as she turns to walk backwards, facing you. “I’d love to, but Dad’s adamant about it. He’s all about that ‘new face of Stark Tech’ thing.”

A shudder of disgust visibly ripples through Damian.

“A marketing ploy,” he sneers. “Stark’s fully aware the media will devour the drama between our rival companies and turn it into a spectacle. Of course, Wayne Tech never needed such gimmicks to maintain its edge.”

Morgan chuckles, shaking her head. “Nah, I think he just wants to adopt her.”

The three of you turn a corner and enter a grand space where the hallway opens up into a wide, two-story room. Despite the hour, the floor-to-ceiling windows flood the area with a soft, muted glow from the city lights outside. 

At the center of the room, Tony lounges casually on one of the plush sofas. Gadgets and tools are strewn about him, and he’s engrossed in tinkering with a small device. He looks up as you approach, adjusting his glasses.

“Hey, kids. Didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Hey, Mr. Stark. Fancy meeting you here,” you murmur, trying to keep the mood light despite your exhaustion.

“I live here, kid.” Tony wipes his hands on a rag, tossing the gadget onto the coffee table in front of him. Crossing his arms, he leans back against the couch. “Who’s your little boy toy? You cheating on Morgan now?”

Damian’s face flushes with irritation, his jaw tightening. You can’t help but snort and rest your cheek against Damian’s shoulder, your grin widening at his discomfort.

“This is the famous Daryll,” you snark, giving Tony a sidelong glance.

Tony’s gaze bores into Damian, taking in the dark, brooding aura that seems to cling to him like a second skin. The kid looks like he’s stepped straight out of a Twilight movie, with those piercing green eyes smoldering beneath furrowed brows, carrying a weight far beyond his years.

It didn’t help that Damian was also the son of a billionaire. Tony remembers him from his younger years—back then, he was a pipsqueak, a sharp-tongued brat who acted like he owned the world.

Now, he’s taller, lean, and strong, with a coiled tension in his frame. That same intense, self-assured vibe still lingers, but it’s darker now, more honed like he’s seen too much and come out the other side more dangerous for it.

“Nice to meet you, Twilight Reject,” Tony says, pushing himself up and extending his hand to Damian. "Put 'em up."

Damian’s eyes flick to Tony’s hand with a look of absolute revulsion, as if it were some particularly vile insect. He hesitates for a moment, then grudgingly extends his own hand. His grip is firm, almost painfully so, as if he’s trying to crush the perceived insult out of Tony’s hand.

“It’s Damian. Damian Wayne,” he says, drawing out and emphasizing his last name, the irritation barely masked.

"Yeah. I know who you are," Tony scoffs, turning to you with a raised brow. “What’s the deal? Did you lose a bet or something? You're dating someone with all the personality of a damp towel."

“It’s called having standards, something you might not be familiar with,” Damian snaps back, his tone biting.

You sigh, sliding Damian's arm off of you and wincing slightly as you put weight on your uninjured foot. Stepping between the two of them, you raise a hand in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright! Let’s not turn this into a pissing contest.”

“It’s been a rough night, and we all need some rest,” Morgan interjects, her tone weary as she empties her jacket pockets, gadgets clattering onto the table. She tosses her backpack across the room, where it lands with a heavy thud.

Gesturing toward the sleeping quarters, she adds, “Can we save the bickering for later? They’ve got somewhere important to be tomorrow.”

Tony squints. “And where exactly are you two going?”

“Tt…” Damian tilts his head towards the man. “We have a dress appointment scheduled for tomorrow. Naturally, I’m covering all the expenses.”

“A dress appointment, huh?” Tony steps closer, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Well, someone’s got to make sure Sneakers here doesn’t end up in a ditch, so I’m coming along, Daniel.”

“It’s Damian,” he corrects. “And no, that won’t be necessary. We can handle it on our own.”

“Zip it, Dylan. I’m the one organizing this shindig, so I’d like to ensure my top intern doesn’t end up looking like a rag doll.”

Damian’s lip curls slightly. “If you insist on being there, then I’ll have to bring my father along as well. As her top donor, he should oversee it too, don’t you think?”

You blink, caught off guard. That’s a stretch. Bruce Wayne’s never actually thrown cash at your extracurriculars—though he’s tried, insisting on it more than once. Even tried to sneak you and Selina money through some probably illegal wire transfer, but you never took it.

“Oh, please. Anyone can throw money around,” Tony retorts. “He’s not special.”

“Well. If you have a problem with that,” Damian murmurs coldly, “you’re welcome to voice it to him. Tomorrow.”

Tony coughs, barely stifling his laugh. “Oh, I’m sure I can handle some prissy playboy,” he says, clapping his hands together. “Can’t wait to see how that goes.”

Your brow creases in concern.

Oh, you really don’t want to see how that goes.

 ༻⊰───⋅

IM SO SORRY ITS LATE! HAD TO REWRITE A SCENE BC THE DRAFT GOT LOST :(

Next chap out soon </3 It's the weekends so it'll be quicker

Also I'm gonna rework some of the earlier chapters :P (Just tweaking writing a little no plot changes at all)

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

master-list || CHAPTER TWO: SWEET AND BLOOD.

summary: it always him. a unhealthy reminder of jason’s nightmares and demons.

pairing: husband!jason todd x wife!reader, bruce wayne, dick grayson, jim gordon, damian wayne, ginger the pup.

warnings: ptsd?, traumatic experiences, talks of death, almost panic attacks? a little bit of smut??? y/n gets tackled twice, violence, injuries, almost attempted kidnapping.

previously || next

why is it called a secret, when you can’t be careful?

oh wait..it never was a SECRET.

“what..”

was all jason todd could say. not RED HOOD. not the man who killed criminals and terrorized any crime boss in Gotham city and left their heads rolling for police to take care of. but JASON. the boy who was left to fend for himself and starving until he met bruce wayne. same scared kid who was murdered by a clown. a clown who wore caked on face paint, green hair, laughed like his life depended on it. one who murdered so many lives. he didn’t take Jason’s life…he used it…and than torn it. all because, he was robin and because he was the son of his number one enemy.

memories of that torturing hours, of just being there with him.

he could hear him laughing, laughing so much like he was so goddamn funny to brutally beat a kid. jason could feel his hands on him. he could feel, EVERYTHING.

the crowbar, he could feel the metal beating him senselessly. from to his face to his toes. the ache and the throbbing. than to the numbness. it was like when you get sick, the chills and the fever and the feeling of not being able to get up mixed with getting stomped on by a giant over and over was what it felt like. it never stopped. the pain.

but that doesn’t compare when he had his finger nails pulled off. limbs broken. hanging by a thread. the cuts that fuckin’ clown would give him. but the most memorable besides the crowbar was HIM… carving a J on the side of his cheek. it was slow. painfully agonizing. he could hear his own screams begging to stop. he remembered he would always purposefully go slow and dig deeper into his bleeding skin. something the lazarus pit couldn’t fully heal, not even his autopsy marks on his chest.

he was littered, of death. and he cheated death, without him even letting it happen. you could say that the lady death let it slide…for now.

“jay?”, he hears his wife, oh his wife…the love of his life.

y/n sat down in front of jason who stared blankly ahead of her. his gaze was into space. gone he was. unresponsive. she was used to seeing her husband like this after he has his nightmares or panic attacks. a lot of times she would see if he wanted to have her console him, if not she wouldn’t touch him unless he gave her consent. she was patient. and that’s all jason asks.

“baby…you need me?”, y/n whispers to him but still not daring to touch him. she could hear his breathing hitch, it looked like he wasn’t breathing at all. “jason”, y/n calmly called out his name.

that caused him to blink a little before robotically looking down at her in between his legs. y/n held a worried look, worried he was going to have an episode. “jay? how can I help? mhm? do you want to list off some things?”, she questions him slow. jason blinked, shaking his head. y/n muttered a small ‘okay’ before placing herself fully on their carpet floor.

“okay…can i touch you?”, y/n asks him with her hands on her lap.

he stared down at his wife, all he sees..is her. jason nodded, his hair flopped as he did. y/n nodded with a frown. her hand reaches up with a pace of calmness, both the husband and wife’s hand clasped together. her thumb rubs against the scar on his knuckles.

“jay…I need you to breathe with me..okay? I need you to take deep breathes”, y/n reminded him. something jason tends to forget when he feels like something is going to cause him to have a panic attack or when an nightmares occurs. he inhaled from his nose before exhaling quietly, he does that a few times as y/n watched to make sure he wasn’t overdoing it. “there ya go…”, she cheers on.

jason closed his eyes, feeling a sense of relief. reminding himself he wasn’t there anymore and he was safe with his wife. “I know baby..I know. do you want to go and lie down? glass of water”, y/n began to ask him. ready to go and get some water anyway for him, jason grabbed her hand. her ringed hand. the gold wedding ring stared back at him. his calloused thumb runs over the band.

pressing a firm kiss on the ring he put on her himself. jason finally spoke to her “im fine..thank you babe”, he whispers under his breath.

worried still, y/n nodded her head as she reaches up and rubs jason’s knee that was shaking violently. he takes deep breathes to calm himself and allow his wife’s presence as well. his jet black hair tossles forward, in the sunlight, a few white streaks glides. the hair dye finally fading away.

y/n always remember when jay needed some help in dying his hair, said it was better than a constant reminder of his fate before. she did always like the white streak in his hair though. like a cute skunk. she looked at his hair before reaching up gently tugging on the growing whites. “you’re right.. we do need to dye it”, she whispers.

on jason’s face was a growing smile until it dropped remembering what y/n had previously told him. his frown deepened, “it’s my fault…I should’ve been more careful..I fucked up”, he says. hearing the fear and the blame coming from jason made y/n look up into his eyes. her eyebrows furrowed, shaking her head more.

“it is NOT you’re fault jason. none of it was your fault..you-”, cupping jason’s scarred cheeks into her warm hands. the cold wedding ring touching his skin. “protect me so well my love..you keep me safe. you never fuck up. you are the best husband I could ask for, no matter how many times you doubt yourself. know you done this for us. you are the greatest man I know..”, her words of truth and love made JASON TODD cry. tears fall drooping down his cheeks. one, two, three, four and five tears as more keeps on coming.

jason bites his lips as they wobbled. he lets out a choked sob before wrapping his hands around his wife’s. y/n’s eyes softened at the sight. “oh jay”, she coos at him.

her thumb wipes away his falling tears letting her husband cry.

everyone is allowed to be vulnerable. just because you’re vulnerable doesn’t make you weak. you have so much pain yet you still carry it, letting that pain go will set you free. be angry. be sad. whatever you’re emotion you feel, turn it into something greater.

those are what y/n told jason. on the night he revealed to her that his true identity and his story. he didn’t cry, that night. he just stared at the city. scared but accepting if she was scared and wouldn’t want to see him again. yet she never did. she stayed. and when she told him those words, god did he grew to love her more and more.

“why did you marry me?”, jason asks y/n from behind her. laying inside the porcelain bathtub was the two couple, naked and covered in foamy bubbles. the room smelled of warm cocoa butter and brown sugar, a hint of lavender essential oil. the only light in the large bathroom was red and white thick candles. the large man’s figure was behind y/n’s, he was pressed up against the cold porcelain.

playing with the foam and blowing into them creating the smallest tiniest of bubbles, y/n turned her head to look at jason with a curious look. “what? what kind of question is that?”, she asks him. her full attention to him.

he shifts, moving y/n along on his lap. “i just..want to hear it again. please?”, jay asks. she looks down at his wet chest before looking up at him. from her back being turned away, she quickly moves over chest to chest.

and as their chests touch each other..y/n wraps her wet arms around his thick neck. “the reason why I married you. is because I could have of chosen to be married to someone else. somebody who wouldn’t love me, as much as you do. you love me. but not as much as I love you. that night you saved me, I knew. and when you told me who you truly are. I knew. I love you and all you’re days and nights. red hood, robin, jason todd…all of you is what I love. marrying you, is my gift till the day I die…”

the words, so beautiful. jason stared at her with devotion, his heart beats every second. his eyes turned into hearts eyes the minute she spoke. “god I love you”, he whispers looking down at her lips.

his thumb runs along the plush skin. his right hand goes down to her hip and the other hand on her back. pushing her forward onto him, bringing each other closer and closer. their lips clasp each other.

y/n turns her head slightly to the left, taking in jason’s lips deeper. her hand grips the hair on the back of his head. she slightly tugs causing jason to groan. the room becomes more heated and intense. pulling away from her jason moves his face onto her neck. he plants soft kisses and as he touches the spot y/n likes, he pulls her skin in and sucks. “jay..”, she moans. the hand on y/n’s hip rocks her back and forth. the room is now filled of moans and groans.

a soft sad whine is heard by door, a little black wiggling nose peeks right out from under the door. tiny claws scratching against the wood. both jason and y/n stop their actions before slowly turning to the door. a giggle comes out from y/n’s mouth from watching the poor alone pup on the other side of the door. “oh ging..”, she mumbled.

another whimper in response from ginger, begging to be let in with her parents. y/n giggled once more about to let herself up until jason goes back to nibbling on her neck. “jayyy”, she drags out.

continuing on his action of giving his partner pleasure, jason lifts up y/n in his hands before harshly slamming her on his lap. y/n shouts, feeling fullness before looking down at jason with widened eyes. “jason!”, she yelled. he pulls away from her neck to look up at her. an innocent look with a small grin before saying “what? im not getting cockblocked babe”.

rolling her (e/c) eyes at him slapping his chest. it wasn’t till jason rocks her back and forth once again that y/n stopped complaining. her eyes shut letting her husband do the work.

dried off, y/n runs a brush against her dampened hair. the smell of her shampoo and conditioner lingers in her roots and ends. in her view from behind is jason, still shirtless except for a pair of grey sweats cling to his hips. he always looked good in them. his large figure comes up from behind y/n before playfully flexing.

y/n laughed, “looking good babe…”.

from the mirror in front of them jason sends her a cheeky wink. “damn right I do”, he says back. looking down at the floor was ginger who happily sits on her butt with her tongue lolled out. “do I look good ginger?”, jason now asks the pup. the german shepherd barks in response cause the two to laugh.

y/n turns her head to where jason stood, his neck was littered of hickeys from their bath. she smiled before biting her lip to hide it. back to hair, y/n grabs a small bottle of oil now smothering it in her hands before running them against her hair.

amongst to her once she does her routine, jason watched her. it was satisfying to watch in his opinion. just now she takes care of her and now she does it, was nice. breaking the comfortable silence, was a phone ringing. y/n stopped herself, making eye contact with Jason from the mirror.

tension sprung. it wasn’t his personal phone but one he uses for work. jason drops his shoulders, he wasn’t leaving again. not when he just got back..it wasn’t fun to hear that familiar ring. he decided to just let it go on. and what felt like an eternity, it stopped. y/n knew it her stomach, it must be important enough for jason to be called. even though she just got him back. in defeat, y/n sighed. causing jason to shake his head in protest. “no..no I’m not gonna get that”, he argues.

“yes yes you do. jason it’s important” “not as important as you”

closing her eyes as jason argued, deep down he knows she is right. but she was more important than anybody else. this is his WIFE.

“jason…” “im not leaving. I don’t care. not after what happened today, fuck no im not leaving you alone”, he pushes on. his large hands turn y/n around to face him by the waist. y/n still under the influence for him to go. her face read of conflict. “y/n..look at me”, jason whispers to her. from looking at the floor to her husband. it was clear of his decision. his dark blue eyes looks into hers, y/n sighs once more. “im staying. okay?”, he asks her.

she was never the type to stop jason from helping others. neither was he. finally accepting his decision, y/n nods her head. quickly moving to go over and hug his large body. pressing his lips onto the top of her damp head. “come on, ill start dinner”, jason offers dragging her towel clung form.

guess jason will know what his family wanted him for tonight..

⋆˙.☾. ⋆˙

DICK curses under his breath annoyed and worried, his phone gripped tightly in his latex hand. the phone goes straight to voicemail making him whisper ‘shit’. he turns around to face bruce as batman who talked to JIM GORDON. “come on jay pick up..”, he prays to himself still attempting to call his younger brother who was absent as of right now.

only for him to sigh in disappointment. “YOU’RE CALL HAS BEEN FORWARDED TO AUTOMATED VOICEMAIL-“. dick pressed the end button before shoving his phone in a hidden pocket on his suit. his legs carry him over to bruce, looking more worried. bruce sees dick as he approaches him. “nightwing…anything?”, the batman asks in an deep voice. in a simple nod, jim sighs before looking up at the vandalized building.

“guessing he isn’t in Gotham right now. red hood leaving means more crime, no offense”, jim nods to Batman taking a smoke out of his cigarette.

batman stared at the commissioner blankly till turning to nightwing who looked at the building as well. “where could he be?”, dick asks under his breath. the building gave him the chills. mocking everybody but more so at both the two men. bruce turned his head away. where was his son? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t know anything. apparently a enemy does. “robin”, bruce calls out to the youngest one in the crime scene.

ROBIN, DAMIAN WAYNE, stands up tall and proud looking at the crime scene before him. he was disgusted on what was in his sight. the young boy walks over to batman with his katana by his side. “batman..”, damian says back to him.

“find red hood, he needs to know about this tonight..” bruce says. robin gives him a ‘tch’ scoffing at the idea of finding his incompetent brother who happened to leave two days ago. “wouldn’t be hard to find him anyways…commissioner gordon, nightwing” damian bids his goodbye before shooting an grappling hook to an building.

leaving three of the men looking up at the painted and bloodied building.

and on that specific building was a woman…all the once white sheets of paper had a large zoomed photo of either a cheek, an eye, a whole full. all the pictures glued together, like a puzzle it was. this woman had (h/c), (e/c), and had a smile so happy. but what made it more sickening was a familiar painted carved in smile of crimson red.

covering her (e/c) eyes was an ‘X’ mark on each eye.

all around the woman’s picture was big green and black colored ‘HA HA HA’s and just by looking at it was overwhelming for dick and bruce. he never stops. and just below the picture was bloodied words saying :

WHY KEEP MISS AMERICAN PIE A SECRET?

WHEN SHE DESERVES A LITTLE GREETING FROM ME? FLY HIGH BABY BIRD. WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU AGAIN BIG RED.

a white card of a joker, placed purposefully at the end.

⋆˙.☾. ⋆˙

it was another quiet night.

too quiet. almost haunting and cruel.

it was mocking her. taunting her. laughing at HER.

ONCE again, in their shared bed. lays both y/n and jason on their respective sides, sleeping peacefully alongside ginger on her dog bed. the tv plays in the background of a random show jason had picked on netflix. with jason’s firm grip in cuddling his wife, y/n slowly opened her eyes. her throat felt dry. just like yesterday night. she cranes her neck over to her husbands side, lifting up to see his alarm clock.

it was 3:00 A.M.

mentally cursing for jason not buying that damn mini fridge, y/n pries his thick arms away from her waist. from her movement, jason groans loudly before turning away on the other side. not caring, y/n yawns scratching her head now getting up from the plush bed. ginger, lifts up and watches her mother lazily walk over to the door. what y/n didn’t see was ginger stands up, alerted. a low growl in warning before whining loudly. but not loud enough for jason to wake up.

it was cold tonight. to the hall and down the stairs, y/n rub her eyes with her index finger. smashing away the eye boogers.

slowly stopping at the end of the wooden stairs, y/n is faced with the emptied living room. the shadow of the trees were still this time, causing y/n to shiver. she crosses her bare arms rubbing up and down on them for heat. her feet pick her up to the kitchen, doing the same routine she had done previously.

picking up a mason jar glass from the dish washing rack, placing it under the water distillery from the fridge and wait for the glass to be nearly full. bringing the cold glass to her lips, y/n drank and chugged the rest of the water. her throat now quenched. setting down the emptied glass, y/n places it in the sink quickly wiping away water droplets from the corners of her mouth.

looking around the kitchen, it was quiet. one that made y/n scared. remembering that jason is upstairs and is there to keep her safe along with ginger. and healthy reminder, that jason had set the security system in the house and told their ‘gate’ security man to keep an eye out tonight. ‘I’m just being paranoid. definitely not going to that grocery store anymore.’

about to head back upstairs, y/n glanced at the counter before looking away. only to stop.

her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, knowing that her and Jason had cleaned up before heading to bed. so why the fuck is a poker card laying on the counter? walking slowly to where the card laid, y/n stares at it. doesn’t pick it up or even touch it. from early events and remembering that what jason said…how you could tell it was also him, was by a poker card with a joker.

not wanting to know what was imprinted on that card, y/n backs away slowly. ready to break for it upstairs and wake up her husband.

and that’s what she does..

her legs speed past the opening of the kitchen and into the living room. hands were quick to grab the railing of the stairs only for a pair of hands to grab her by the stomach. y/n lets out a gasp, “JAS-“. cut off mid screaming, a hand lands on her mouth. muffling her screams of fear.

“i got her, get the van ready”, a gruffly man voice says. with her hand on the railing, gripped so tight she made sure to hold on to stop the man from taking her. his hands pull on her, struggling to take her away. he grunts angrily at the stubborn woman. “fucking stop”, he grits his teeth in her ear.

unable to pull him off and to scream out for the man upstairs, y/n turns her hand into a fist before slamming it on the wooden railing. her hand throbbed from the harsh banging. a loud bark from upstairs alerts the commotion happening. “fuck! enough you fucking bitch”, the man kicks y/n on her back.

pain spreads all over her back making her hunch over. but that didn’t stop her from grabbing on the railing.

y/n, smart she is, she lets go of the railing to unexpectedly kick the wood cause both her and the man to fall over. the kidnapper grunts in pain as he lays there with y/n. her elbow hits the man square in the face feeling a smush of skin and bone. a loud crunch was heard. the impact made the man scream of more enough pain. he lets go of y/n to cradle his nose. giving her the opportunity to run. “JASON!”, she screamed out for him.

from upstairs a loud noise of glass and punches being thrown was heard by y/n. coming down from the stairs now was ginger.

the dog growls of smelling intruders, the four legged pup runs over to the man who was still clutching his nose. ginger’s teeth sinks deep into his arm, growling with the shake of her head. “get the fuck off me!”, the intrude yells out trying to hit ginger. y/n immediately runs over to stop the man from hurting her baby by stomping straight on his crotch. her foot slams harder each time on his crotch effecting more of his mobility. loud footsteps from the kitchen and into the living room just behind her, rumbling and shaking the floorboards. those footsteps hands slam right into y/n’s side. tackling her like a football player.

her head slams harshly against the floor, a pained whimper escapes her mouth.

a sudden weight sits on her stomach rather comfortably. two hands rest themselves on her neck squeezing enough for her windpipe to close. y/n eyes widened, her hands rest against the person’s hands trying to pry them off of her. she chokes, gasping for air. her nails dug into the arms to create some kind of pain. her eyes shift up to who was choking her to see a man figure in a gross white tank top wearing a clown mask, the same one from earlier.

her breathing starts to quicken realizing who this was above her. it was that creepy guy who was watching her when the two of them went grocery shopping. ginger hears the sounds of choking, her attention turning to her mother being suffocated by a man in a mask. canine teeth lets go of the man that was withering on the floor, her throat grumbles into a growl.

y/n’s vision starts to blur, her strength leaves her bones. a loud bark from her left is heard till the sudden weight is gone along with the hands around her throat. the woman gasps for air loudly turning into coughing fits. just as her vision begins to fix itself y/n could hear screams from her right with gingers growling.

“y/n!”, jason’s voice yells out from upstairs. his booming bare footsteps stomp down the stairs. “y/n!”, he once again yells out. gun in his hand and blood on his chest illuminating his autopsy scar.

before going to his wife jason sees a man in a clown mask gripping his crotch in pain. craning his gun, jason pulls the trigger at him. a loud bang makes y/n jump with a scream. a dead man laid on the floor. jason breathes in, his attention now onto y/n who’s hand cradled her sore throat. “y/n”, he says with a sigh of relief. he runs over to his wife gently picking her figure up into his lap as he sat down. “baby…are you okay? are you okay?”, jason anxiously asks her looking all over her body for bruises or any wounds. with ginger, still angrily chewing on the masked man’s arm, jason looks up at where his pup was. a sharp whistle till ginger lets go turning to jason.

soft puppy eyes trot over to the two with a saddened whine in seeing her mother hurt. ginger lays next to the y/n’s side, a whimper escapes once more before sniffing y/n. a pink tongue gently licks against her cheek. “im fine ginger”, she says voice now hoarsely. jason looks down at y/n than back to the dude in a shitty clown mask. about to get up and hit the man into unconsciousness.

the end of a katana hits the man in the side of his head. knocking him out straight and cold. and in jason’s sight, is his little brother in his robin costume. damian.

damian, slides his katana back into his case gracefully. his face in a scowl when he looked down at the masked man. “damian?”, the young boy looks up at his older brother with an unamused look. “todd”, he greets him walking around the unconscious man. ginger and y/n both looked at the younger boy who looked more and more unimpressed as he looked around the living room. “what the fuck are you doing here?”, jason angrily asks.

stopping in his tracks, damian looked at jason than at y/n. a small ‘tch’ from him. “father requested for me to come find you. so I have. and come to find that you were attacked by joker’s men, I came to your rescue”.

“my rescue? im doing just fine damian”, jason points behind him at the dead man with his gun. “well ill have you know todd, all of us know of you’re bride. no use to keeping everything a secret”, damian unconcerned stands right in front of the couple. his smaller frame looks down at y/n who was still coughing as she laid on jason’s lap.

“y/n l/n. nice to finally meet you sister in-law ..”, damian coldly says to y/n. behind his mask he glares down at her form.

if you can’t keep a secret hidden, why even try?

they’ll always know.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi my loves! thank you all for loving last chapter! hehe! big smooches for y’all! here is part two! for part three I’ll be making it longer so if I haven’t really been posting that’s why! but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! if you want to be on the tag list let me know!

BINX

Mr. and Mx. Mystery

S1E1 - Tourist Trapped

The sun was shining in the clear blue sky as a family were having a fun day outside.

‘Ah, summer break-‘ Hank was grilling burgers for his family and his two kids Shmipper and Smabble were laughing and chasing one another, while the rest of the family sat at a picnic table. "You want cheese on that, hon?" Hank asked his wife, flipping a burger. "Sure, Hank."

‘A time for leisure, recreation, and takin' 'er easy... Unless you're me.’ 

A golf cart crashes through the "Welcome to Gravity Falls" sign with Dipper and Mabel screaming as they drove thorugh the woods. The ground shakes as something large makes it way pass trees, knocking them down. Mabel looks back toward the forest, "Aaaah!!! It's getting closer!" A giant hand tries to reach for the cart but missies as the cart files off a rock and lands as the kids swerve.

‘My name is Dipper. The girl about to puke is my sister Mabel. You may be wondering what we're doing in a golf cart fleeing from a creature of unimaginable horror.’

 "Look out!" Mabel screamed as Dipper turns the wheel to the left hard, almost knocking the cart over, leaving both them screaming.

'Rest assured, there's a perfectly logical explanation.'

'Let's rewind. It all began when our parents decided we could use some fresh air.' Mabel gets their pet cat taken out of her hands while a video game console gets taken out of her brothers. In replace they were both given packed bags and sunscreen on their noses.

“They shipped us up north to a sleepy town called Gravity Falls, Oregon, to stay at our great-uncle and auncle's place in the woods.”

Mabel begun to put up all kinds of boy band and cute posters on her side of the room. "This attic is amazing! Check out all my splinters!" Mabel holds out her hand which is covered in, all places that shouldn’t be, with splinters. Dipper walks backwards toward his bed as he gets a good look at the room they’ll staying in for the whole summer. As he does he gets jump scared by Gompers who's standing behind him, "Baaa!”

“And there's a goat on my bed."

Mabel walks over to them has she holds out her hand trying to be friendly toward the goat but he ended up chewing on her sweater sleeve, "Hey, friend. Oh! Yes, you can keep chewing on my sweater. Ha ha ha ha ha!"

'My sister tended to look on the bright side of things.'

"Yay! Grass," Mabel exclaimed as she rolled down the small hill, having the "time of her life".

A woodpecker starts to peck the top of Dipper's hat. Y/N makes a gently shooing motion to make the bird fly away without looking from their book.

‘But I was having a hard time getting used to our new surroundings, our great-auncle, (Y/N), was trying to make things better by trying to bond with us and to get me to see the brighter side of things.’ 

Dipper and Y/N were sitting under a tree together, Dipper writing in a journal and Y/N reading. Y/N lightly slapped the insides of the book with the back of their fingers.

"Ok, now I think you might enjoy this book, sweet pea.” Next thing Dipper knew, his great-uncle jumped behind the tree he and his auncle were sitting under on wearing a mask, "Boo!"

Both Dipper and Y/N scream at the top of their lungs, dropping the books in their hands as Dipper falls over.

"Aha ha ha ha!" Stan laugh as he takes the mask off.

 'And then was our great-uncle Stan.' Stan slaps his knee has he takes the mask off of his head.

'That guy.'

"Aha ha ha ha, ow!" Stan started hitting his chest from laughing so hard, then he doubled over in pain as his partner punched him in the stomach.

"Stop doing that!" Y/n picked Dipper up, fixing his hat and made sure he was ok.

"It was worth it."

'Our uncle and auncle had transformed their house into a tourist trap they called the Mystery Shack. The real mystery was why anyone came.'

A coward follows the Pines couple through out the museum, their arms linked together as Stan points to attractions with his 8-ball cane, "Ladies and gentlemen, behold! The Sascrotch!"

‘And guess who had to work there.’

“Oh," Mabel reaches to touch a giant eyeball, when Stan comes over to smack her hand away.

"No touching the merchandise!"

'It looked like it was gonna be the same boring routine all summer, until one fateful day...'

Dipper was wiping down some merchandise sweeping while his Graunkle was sweeping. His sister, Mabel, was too busy stalking her latest boy target behind selves of Stan and Y/N bobble head figures.

"He's looking at it. He's looking at it!"

The boy opened the note reading it out loud, "Uh...'Do you like me? Yes. Definitely. Absolutely?'” He started looking around, trying to find the source of where the note could have come from.

"I rigged it!" She uttered excitedly has she placed her hands on her cheeks.

Dipper stopped cleaning and rolled his eyes, “Mabel, I know you're going through your whole "boy crazy" phase, but I think you're kind of overdoing it with the "crazy" part."

Mabel turned towards her brother with a disbelieve look on her face and blows a raspberry, "What?! Come on, Dipper! This is our first summer away from home. It's my big chance to have an epic summer romance."

"I agree with Dipper on his, Hon, don’t you think you're moving too fast?" (Y/N) asked, "I mean...how many boy does make now?”

"I bet she doesn't even know, she flirts with every guy she meets!" Dipper said, shrugging.

Mabel is standing next to a boy in the mystery shack, fluttering her eyes, "My name is Mabel, but you can call me the girl of your dreams. I'm joking! Ha ha ha ha!" She exclaims pushing the boy into the greeting cards display knocking him and the stand over.

Mabel then pops up from behind a bench, that has a guy sitting with his turtle in his hands, "Oh, my gosh, you like turtles? I like turtles too. What is happening here?"

Inside the mattress store, a boy dressed as the mattress king is working, "Come one, come all, to the mattress prince's kingdom of savings!"

Mabel pops out from behind a set of colorful balloons and she whispers, Take me with you..." Causing the boy to run away screaming.

"Mock all you want, brother and Graunkle, but I got a good feeling about this summer. I wouldn't be surprised if the man of my dreams walked through that door right now." Mabel said confidently has she pointed toward the mystery shack exhibit door.

Stan walks through the door holding signs under his arm and a pitt cola in his hand. Using his other, he clutched his stomach as a burp gets caught in his throat, "Oh! Oh. Not good. Ow." 

Mabel looks at Stan in disgust, "Oh, why?!"

Dipper and Y/N laughed, high fiving each other as they do.

"All right, look alive, people. I need someone to go hammer up these signs in the spooky part of the forest." Stan said as he holds out the signs toward Y/N and the twins.

"Not it!" Dipper and Mabel say at the same time, behind them Soos raised his hand while he drilled a shelf with his other.

"Uh, also not it."

"Nobody asked you, Soos."

"I know, and I'm comfortable with that." He pulled out a chocolate bar and took a bite out of it.

Y/N can see Stan giving them a side eyed look, “No, Stan. I’m not doing the job that I told you to do!”

Stan rolls his eyes as he sighed in annoyance, he then turns towards the teenage red head, who’s relaxing on the job with her feet on the counter, reading a magazine. "Wendy! I need you to put up this sign!"

Wendy tries to reach for the signs from where she's sitting, with a bored expression on her face not looking up from her magazine, "I would, but I, ugh, can't, ugh, reach it, ugh..."

"I'd fire all of you if I could. All right, let's make it eeny-meeny-miney..." Stan then points his finger at Dipper, "You."

"Aw, what? Grunkle Stan, whenever I'm in those woods, I feel like I'm being watched."

"Ahh, this again." Stand begins to rub the corners of his eyes as Y/N gave him a light hit on his shoulder.

"I'm telling you, something weird is going on in this town. Just today, my mosquito bites spelled out "BEWARE." Stan and Y/N leaned in closer to Dipper’s arm, both squinting their eyes. After looking at it for a couple of seconds Stan leaned back up, looking at Dipper, confused.

"That says 'bewarb.’” As he said this, Y/N gently grabbed Dipper’s arm and examined the bites. “Do you believe me, Graunkle Y/N?” Y/N shook their head, letting go of his arm.

”Oh, Sorry. I was just seeing if that needed to have cream put in it. It’s looks bad, Sweet pea.” Dipper then lowers his arm in embarrassment and rubs the bites.

“Anyway, look, kid.” Stan voices, “The whole "monsters in the forest" thing is just local legend drummed up by guys like us to sell merch to guys like that," Stan pointed to a man sweating like there was no tomorrow laughing at a bobble head Stan doll in his hands. "So, quit being so paranoid!" He then threw the signs into Dipper's arms. Fumbling with them, Dipper looked up at his uncle in annoyance.

Watching Stan leave through employees only door, Y/N sighed. Crouching down to meet Dipper’s height, Y/N placed a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. Dipper didn't make eye-contact with them.

”Hey, don’t let Stan get under your skin, alright? If you say there’s something going on, maybe, you could look for evidence to rub in his mean face."

Dipper sighed and nodded his head, "Yeah...Yeah! Grunkle Stan might not know it but this town had some weird stuff going on and I'm gonna prove it!" Dipper grips the signs tighter has he marches out of the shack toward the woods. Y/N stood back up, cracking their back, "Oof! Stupid old body." Taking a look around they noticed that Mabel was no where to be found, signing again they crossed their arms over their chest and walking through the employee only door. In there, they found Stan in the kitchen finishing his Pitt soda.

"He's gonna found out about this place eventually, you do know that right?" Stan groaned, taking a long drink from the can. He waved his finger in 'no' motion, bringing the can down from his mouth. "You don't think I know that, toots? Boy seems too smart for his age," he leans on the kitchen table muttering the last part of his sentence under his breathe. "Almost like someone else we know."

Y/N slowing walked over to the table and leaned on it next to Stan, rubbing his back. "I know, that's why I think we should be honest with them. To protect them from all this crazy stuff this place has going on. If we keep lying-" Stan cuts Y/N off.

"If we keep lying, we can keep them away from it." Stan gets up and walks out the kitchen to go upstairs, you turn your gaze to your feet. Thinking about how you could tell the kids about everything in this town, but a part of you didn't. It felt too soon, so you decided to wait until maybe they trusted you and Stan a little more. You groaned in annoyance, rolling your eyes. Opening the freezer, you grabbed a popsicle walking out of the kitchen to sit on the couch outside.

Some time passed, but you don’t know how long as you were sitting there lost in thought, until the front door slammed next to you. It was Mabel and she looks excited as ever.

“Hey Graunkle! I’m going to see if I can find Dipper, ok bye!" Mabel screamed as she started running toward the woods, you didn't even get a chance to understand what she was saying. And you didn’t have to think about it because pulling up to the front of the shack was a tour bus, you stood up, crushing the stick of the popsicle in your mouth.

After Y/N and Stan finished the tour, you two went upstairs. You rubbed the back of your neck, "Hey, you're not like mad about earlier, right?" Stan chuckled under his breath, turning to face you.

"Why would I be mad at ya? You just care for those rascals." You smiled, you both turned toward the stairs having heard the twins return. You walked over to Stan as you wrapped an arm around his waist and he wrapped his around your shoulder, hip to hip. “Now, let’s go see what those two are up too.”

You gave him a hard kiss on his cheek, giggling. Stan laughed, “Ugh, gross.” You both walked done the stairs laughing. As you got closer, you could hear the twins talking about something. Then you see Mabel rush to the door as you and Stan stood at the door way of the living room.

”What you readin' there, slick?”

Dipper quickly hides the journal under the cushion he was sitting under and grabs the nearest thing he can find. ”Oh! I was just catchin' up on, uh… gold chains for old men magazine?”

“Dipper don't read that, it'll rotten you.” Stan playfully pushed Y/N, laughing. They both walked over to stand behind the love sofa. “What?! That’s a good issue and you like my gold chains!”

You wagged your finger at him, smirking, ”I don’t know who told you that lie.” Just as you said that Mabel came back but she was with someone. He was taller than her, wearing a back hoodie and his back was facing the room.

”Hey, family! Say hello to my new boyfriend!” Mabel presented him as he turned around. His hair was covering one of his eyes and he had some red substance dripping from his cheek. He waved his hand halfway up in a greeting. ”Sup?”

”Hey…” Dipper greeted him first then Stan and you both at the same time.

”How's it hangin'.” Stan threw up finger guns.

“Hello.” You lazily waved at him.

“We met at the cemetery. He's really deep.” She then placed an hand on his arm, squeezing it a bit. “Ooh! Little muscle there. That’s… what a surprise.” Dipper raised his eyebrows, examining this new guy his sister brought in, ”So, what's your name?”

Almost as if pains him to speak he answers the question, ”Uh Normal Man!”

“He means "Norman.” As Mabel corrects him, Y/N noticed the red substance on his check dripping to the floor.

“Are you bleeding, Norman? We could patch that cut up for you?” 

Norman’s eyes widened as he looks at the liquid on his face. ”It's jam.”

Mabel gasped has she lightly shoved him. “Oh! I love jam! Look at this!” She exclaimed moved her hands back and forth between them. Norman shrugged as he looked around, ”So, you wanna go hold hands or whatever?”

”Oh! Oh, my goodness. Don't wait up!” Mabel giggled, bouncing up and down. She then runs towards the door Norman shoot finger guns at the others in the room and followed Mabel, hitting the doorframe and other walls in the process.

Y/N looked around the room at the others, "Well, he was weird. Right?" You saw Dipper nodding his head slowly, gaze focused on where Norman stood.

"Yeah," Stan began, he than clapped his hands and started making his was to the gift shop, "Come on, angel cakes, we got a shack to run!" Y/N ruffled Dipper's hair through his hat and started making their way towards the door, before they opened it they turned to look at Dipper.

"Hey bud, you alright?" They didn't get an answer cause he was already making his way up the stairs. Y/N signed, made sure they looked presentable, fixing their suit and little butterfly pin, and went through the door.

~ TIME SKIP ~

Y/N was stocking inventory as Stan handled the last group of tourists, you hummed thinking to yourself on where the twins could be. Finishing up your task you walked over to where Stan was with the guest.

Stan holds up a swirly pattern on a stick, pulls the string and rotates into a continuous spiral, "Behold! The world's most distracting object!"

The group of tourist was amazed at the simple object, Y/N rolled their eyes at the crowd. Looking passed the all to look through the window seeing the twins and some kind of giant monster. You stood there, mouth agape, your gaze not leaving the the window. Y/N reached out to tap on Stan's shoulder.

"Just try to look away you can't! I can't even remember what I was talkin' about." You groaned and ran outside, seeing the kids about to get hit by a giant fist. You ran towards them and grabbed them. Resulting in you all rolling until you hit the wall of the shack. The twins landed safely but you rolled until you hit the wall with your back, knocking the air our of your lungs.

Dipper was able process what happened to them quickly, he shuffled over to Y/N. Shaking their shoulder, "Graunkle!? Are you ok?" Before you could catch your breath and answer, the monster, which you now see is made of tiny men, gets closer.

"It's the end of the line, kids and weird person that came out of nowhere. Mabel, marry us before we do something crazy!" The one sitting all the way at the top spoke out. The twins each take a side by you, Dipper holding your shoulder and Mabel holing your hand. Dipper turned his hard to look at his sister, "There's gotta be a way out of this!"

Mabel looked from you to her brother with a worried expression. She them closed her eyes and, sighed through her nose. Letting go of Y/N's hand, she stood up and walked towards the gnomes. "I gotta do it."

Dipper's eyes widen, he stood and walked over to his sister, "What?! Mabel, don't do this! Are you crazy?"

Mabel looks back with a determined look on her face, "Trust me." Dipper shook his head and threw his arms up.

"What?!"

"Dipper, just this once Trust me."

You grabbed Dipper by his shoulder, making him turn towards you, "Dipper, I don't know what the hell is going on, but your sister seems like she knows what to do..." Dipper looked back and forth between you, his sister and the pile of gnomes. Walking backward toward the wall, he nodded.

"All right, Jeff, I'll marry you."

"Hot dog! Help me down there, Jason!" Jeff starts to climb down using the other gnomes as a ladder. "Thanks. Andy, left foot, there we go, watch those fingers, Mike." When he makes it to stand in front of Mabel, he pulls out a diamond ring from his back pocket. "Ehh? Ehh?" Mabel's eyes flutter as she presents her hand towards Jeff, he then puts the ring on her finger and does a little jig. "Bada-Bing, bada-bam! Now let's get you back into the forest, honey!"

"You may now kiss the bride." Mabel says as she examined the ring on her finger.

"Well, uh, don't mind if I do." Before he could so anything, he gets sucked into the nozzle of a leaf blower that's Mabel picked up without him seeing.

"Aah! Hey, wait a minute! Ahh-aahh Whoa! Whoa! W-what's going on? Aah! Aaah!"

"That's for lying to me!" She then turned the know on the leaf blower, increasing the power. "That's for breaking my heart!"

"Ow! My face!"

"And this is for messing with my brother!" She then aims the leaf blower toward the gnome monster, Dipper coming to stand next to her. She turned to him, gesturing the leaf blower toward him.

"Wanna do the honors?" She asked Dipper, he came to her side grabbing half of the leaf blower, "On three."

"One, two, three!" They both counted, shifting the leaf blower from 'suck' to 'blow'. Blasting Jeff through the other gnomes and towards the forrest.

"I'll get you back for this!!!!!" He screams as he sails over the trees. Meanwhile the giant monster falls apart as the gnomes fall to the ground. They all start complaining until Mabel starts aiming the leaf blower at them, making them all run away.

"Anyone else wants some?" Mabel screams, the twins laugh for a bit until the turn around, hearing their Graunkle trying to get up. They both run to take one of your sides, helping you up. "Thanks, kids. I don't know you two got in a mess like this but I'm just glad its over."

Mabel rubs you back looking up at you, "Are you gonna be ok Y/N." You chuckled, ruffling both of their heads, "Just peachy, gonna need my pillow though. Are you two alright?" They looked at each other smiling then back up to you, nodded. You smiled and started making your way towards the gift shop door, looking behind you, you called out towards the twins. "You coming?"

Dipper was about to answer, but Mabel stopped him, "We'll be there soon, I gotta talk to Dip-stick real quick." You nodded once more, not having the strength to speak again and went inside.

Inside you found Stan who was counted some of the earnings for the day. Y/N walked over and place their hands on the counter.

"Whoa?! The hell happened to you?" You mouthed, 'I'll you later' as the twins came dragging themselves in. Y/N nodded their head towards the beaten up looking twins, eyeing Stan.

"Sheesh! You two get hit by a bus or somethin'?" Not paying Stan too much attention they continued towards the employee only door.

"Aha! Uh, hey! W-wouldn't you know it? Um, Y/N accidentally overstocked some inventory, so how's about each of you take one item from the gift shop on the house?"

Mabel spun around with a twinkle in her eyes, "Really?

"What's the catch?" Dipper asked as he folded his arms and raised his eyebrow, staring his Uncle down.

“The catch is do it before I change my mind. Now take something.” Stan exclaims has he elbows the cash register placing the money inside, rolling his eyes playfully at you as you laughed. You walked over to stand next to Stan, him taking one of your arms and helping you lean on him. You both watched the kids look around the ship. Dipper chose one of the merch hats, slipping it on his head and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Hmm. That oughta do the trick."

“And I will have a Grappling hook!” Digging into box Mabel pulls out the grappling hook and holds it over her head in excitement. “Yes!”

You smile and gently clap your hands, encouraging her, while Stan and Dipper look at her then each other in disbelief and confusion. As they look back at her again Stan ask, “Wouldn't you rather have a doll or something?”

She then proceeds to launch the hook toward the ceiling, the hook then wraps around a beam, pulling her up in the process, “Grappling hook!”

Stan shrugged, "Fair enough."

Y/N knocked on the attic door, waiting until the twins gave permission for them to enter. You opened the door, peeking inside, you notice Mabel jumping on her bed and Dipper with his knees up a book or something laying on them.

"You two ready for bed?" Dipper nodded as Mabel shouted a 'Yes', not stopping her jumping. You laughed, "Well, I hope you too had a good day today."

"It was awesome, Graunkle," Mabel yelled. She stopped jumping and began to aim her grappling hook all around the room, trying to see where to shoot. "Ok, just be careful with that, sweetie."

She nodded as you were about to close the door, Dipper called out to you.

"Wait, um, don't you want like... I don't know some kind of explanation after what happened today?" You chuckled, shaking you head.

"Dipper, I've lived in this weird town for many years. I don't really need one." The expression on his face lighten up, looking as happy as can be. "Well, if that's the case, maybe..." He stops him self looking over to his sister who's nodding at him.

"Maybe, we can show yo-" Before he could finish his sentence you all heard Stan calling out your name, you signed.

"Don't worry about him, I'll get to him later. Now, what were you saying, Dipper." You looked back at him, his expression full with concern. He looked down at his lap, "Never mind... It's nothing."

Y/N frowned looking at the ground, "Ok, sweeties, hope you have a goodnight." And with that you closed their room door.

As you started to make your way down the stairs you heard a crash and laughing come from the twins room. You straighten out your PJs, decided not to question what they were up too. Crossing the final step, you made it back downstairs into the living room. You started humming some tune you couldn't remember as you made your way to the vending machine. You hit the side a couple of times, making the door of it pop open, grabbing a bag of chips.

A light came from outside the gift shop, until the door opened reveling Stan carrying a lantern. "You better pay for that," He nudged Y/N joking. You rolled your eyes, as he typed on the vending machines keypad. The machine slides open like a door, Stan walked in with you following behind him.

Before you closed it behind you, you turned and looked around to making sure you were alone. Seeing that you both were, Y/N closed the machine with a soft click.

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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: HOME

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ Home is where the heart is. Tony's eyes study you carefully. "You sure you're okay?" "I'm home, Tony," is all you say." pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none wc: 3.2k

all of your replies from last chapter really made me chuckle, glad to see that the writing hit like it was supposed to lol

Miguel refuses to let you go anywhere without getting checked out by somebody. A Spider-Doctor looks you over, poking and prodding at you. She asks you a bunch of questions, some miniscule and some strange.

“Does it hurt when I press here?”

“Is your vision blurry?”

“Does your body feel different on an atomic level?”

She deems you good to go. Your friends are all waiting for you outside the office. Miguel immediately hands you a Web-Watch before stalking off somewhere (grump, you swear). It feels heavenly in your grip. Man, how you missed it. You quickly wear it, placing it just under your web-shooters. The weight of it is reassuring.

With a glance at your friends, you feel a surge of gratitude for their unwavering support. “I should…”

Peter smiles, waving you off. “Go, kid.” The rest of them nod encouragingly. You almost want to cry at their understanding expressions. The watch beeps as you put in your destination. That familiar hum of the universe greets you as the portal opens up. With one last wave to them, you enter it.

Earth-143258

Queens, New York.

Home. You’re finally home.

You breathe in the air. It’s night time now. Avengers tower stands tall, a lighthouse providing a way home. The cool night air swirls around you, carrying with it echoes of past memories. You decide you’ll walk there.

As you walk through the familiar streets, the city feels simultaneously unchanged and yet subtly different. The sounds of the city—distant traffic, people chatting, the occasional siren—blend with the comforting hum of all that New York is.

The familiar sights and sounds evoke visuals, reminding you of the countless times you've swung through these very streets, fighting crime and protecting the innocent.

Passing by old haunts and familiar landmarks, your heart swells with a mix of nostalgia and determination. You catch glimpses of everyday life—families out for an evening stroll, street vendors closing up shop, and the occasional patrol car passing by. Each step feels like a reunion with a part of yourself that you've missed during your time away.

Avengers Tower looms ahead, its imposing silhouette against the night sky serving as a beacon of hope and security. With each stride, you feel more grounded, more connected to this world than ever before. As you approach the entrance to the main lobby, you pause for a moment, taking in the scene before stepping inside.

“Welcome home, [Name],” greets FRIDAY. It sounds like she’s smiling. The warmth in her voice is noticeable, almost as if the building itself is happy to see you return. The spacious, modern interior of the lobby feels like a sanctuary, a place where you've spent countless hours.

“Where’s… where’s everyone?”

“Would you like me to tell them you’re here?”

You swallow. “No, can you just. Can you tell me where they are?”

FRIDAY's voice, smooth and comforting, responds immediately, "Of course. Tony is in his lab, working on a new project. Natasha and Clint are in the training room, sparring. Steve is in the gym, and Bruce is in the kitchen.”

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. It’s been too long since you’ve seen them, but you need a moment to gather yourself before facing even one of them. After a few moments of reflection, you stand up, feeling more grounded. It’s time to reconnect with your team, your family. You decide to head to the lab first. You have to see Tony first.

The lab is a hive of activity, filled with the hum of machinery and the soft glow of various screens. The familiar sights and sounds embrace you like a well-worn glove. Tony is hunched over a workbench, tinkering with what looks like a new piece of tech. For a moment, you simply watch him, the flickering lights casting shadows on his face.

“Hey, Tony,” you call out softly, your voice carrying a mix of emotions.

Tony freezes, pausing his work. He turns around slowly, and for a heartbeat, his expression is unreadable. “I’ve officially gone crazy. I’m seeing things.”

You step further into the lab, your heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Tony's gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to discern whether you're real or a figment of his imagination.

You chuckle softly, trying to ease the tension. "If you're seeing things, then we both are, because I'm definitely standing right here."

Tony sets down his tools, his eyes scrutinizing. "Well, I'll be damned. Look who decided to drop back in from the multiverse." His sass seems infinite.

He strides over, and before you know it, you're enveloped in a bear hug that speaks volumes of relief and genuine affection. "You’re here," he murmurs, his voice gruff and wavering. “You came back.”

You smile, eyes watering. “Miss me?”

“Every damn day,” he replies fiercely. “It’s been months, kid.”

Your heart tightens at his words, and suddenly the dam breaks. A choked sob escapes you without your permission. You bury yourself deeper in Tony’s embrace. Tony only holds you tighter. The weight of everything comes crashing down on account of you finally letting go of everything you’ve been holding in for far too long.

Tony feels like a lifeline, grounding you in a flood of emotions built up. You’ve longed to feel this safe since you first landed in the other universe. His silent reassurance speaks volumes. There is no need for words in this moment, only the warmth in familiarity.

Tony doesn’t pull back until you do, brushing a hand down your face to wipe away your tears. “You wanna go see the others?”

You nod, feeling a rush of gratitude for Tony's understanding as you sniffle. Tony asks FRIDAY to gather your folk into the common room. He fills the silence with mindless chatter about what’s happened since you’ve been away—small little missions here and there, new tech he demanded Miguel to learn about.

“Oh, I’ve gotta let Wanda and Strange know you’re back. Wanda especially has been a little restless.”

“You asked them for help?”

He looks at you. “You were suddenly stranded in the multiverse. Why wouldn’t I?”

Your legs feel so numb you’re not sure how they still work. “Right.” A realization overwhelms you with a sense of belonging. It’s a feeling you haven’t felt in a while.

When you enter the common room, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You just want to sink into the comfy couches and take a three year nap. It feels like stepping back into a cherished memory. Natasha and Clint are already there, looking up as you and Tony walk in. Natasha’s eyes widen imperceptibly, you’re surprised you catch it. Clint’s usual expression breaks into a warm smile.

“Hey, stranger,” Clint says, voice barely above a whisper. His smile is warm, genuine, and it feels like coming home.

“We were starting to think you were avoiding us.” Natasha’s steps toward you are careful and coordinated, everything about her is. But her eyes are softened.

You manage a watery laugh. “Missed you guys too.”

Natasha is the first to move, closing the distance between you with her characteristic grace. She wraps you in a hug that is both gentle and firm, conveying unspoken words of relief and joy. It surprised you greatly, her willingness to openly show affection like this.  Clint follows suit, patting you on the back with a warm hand.

“Steve’s on his way,” Natasha says, stepping back but keeping a hand on your shoulder. “He’s been worried sick.”

Bruce arrives next, hair messy. His eyes dart around the room, landing on you. He breathes a sigh of disbelief, crossing the room to get to you. Bruce's hug is tentative at first, as if he's afraid you might disappear. But when he feels the solid warmth of your form, his grip tightens.

“Hey, kid.” It’s all you need to hear. You smile and wrap your arms around him. 

“Hi.”

Before long, Steve bursts into the room, his expression a mixture of disbelief and joy. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you, and for a moment, he seems rooted to the spot. Then, with a few long strides, he closes the distance between you.. “You’re really here,” he says, pulling you into a hug that almost lifts you off your feet.

You return the hug with equal fervor, feeling the tension and weight of your absence melt away in the embrace of your friends, your family. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Currently breaking several traffic laws to get here,” he chuckles, letting you go reluctantly. 

“And Pepper?” you ask Tony, looking over Steve’s shoulder at him.

Tony blinks. “FRIDAY, please tell Pepper [Name]’s back.” You roll your eyes, not really surprised. “She’s out right now,” Tony says, giving a winning smile. “Nevermind that, let’s throw a party.”

Chuckles fill the room as Tony rounds behind the bar. Typical Tony, ever the partygoer. “Can I drink too?”

Tony squints at you, so you pull out the puppy eyes. “Come on, I deserve it. I was so far from home,” you pout. 

“One drink. One,” he points at you, turning to grab you a bottle to pour.

“They’re not legal, Tony–” cuts in Steve, because of course.

“Don’t be a party pooper, Cap.” Tony passes you your drink. You grin at Steve as you sip it. “You’re a bit of a rule breaker yourself.”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head in mock disapproval as he takes a seat nearby. You imagine a warm blanket settling on you after a long night. Everyone gathers around, sharing stories and catching up on what has transpired during your absence.

Sam shows up with Bucky, walking towards you with a grin and his arms out. You don’t think you’ve ever received so many hugs in one night before. Bucky awkwardly pats your head, then pokes it for “leaving us so long.”

Wanda shows up next, dragging Vision behind her. She smiles widely upon seeing you, looking a little wistful. You kind of wish the drinks you’d been sneaking could take effect. Cursed super metabolism. Too many emotions have been felt tonight.

"Wanda," you say warmly, reaching out to embrace her. She returns the hug with a heartfelt squeeze, her voice tinged with relief. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Vision nods, a faint smile on his lips as he greets you warmly. Wanda’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she embraces you tightly, whispering how much she missed you. “Strange sends his regards,” sniffles Wanda, fondly brushing her fingers against your forehead.

The doors to the common room slide open again, and this time, it's Pepper who walks in. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of you standing there, and she rushes forward, enveloping you in a tight hug. "I can't believe it," she murmurs, her voice trembling with emotion. "Welcome home."

You feel your heart squeeze. You would’ve thought she wouldn’t be able to meet you tonight, since she had prior plans, but here she is. For you.

Throughout the night, amidst the laughter and shared stories, you find yourself reconnecting not just with your friends (read: family), but with a part of yourself that had felt lost. Tony asks FRIDAY to play your favorite song. 

Tony's eyes study you carefully. "You sure you're okay?"

“I’m home, Tony,” is all you say.

He seems to relax at that, nodding slowly. “You are, and we’re not letting you out of our sight anytime soon."

The night outside is calm, New York’s lights twinkling like stars. The moment feels precious. You wish you had your camera to capture it.

Your camera that was gifted to you back in the other universe.

Hm.

You're fingers start to fidget with your green and blue bracelet.

Eventually, the revelry winds down. Everyone bids their goodnights, and you find yourself standing on the balcony of Avengers Tower, gazing out at the cityscape that stretches before you.

The night air is cool against your skin, carrying with it a sense of peace and contentment. You take a deep breath, letting the moment wash over you. In the quiet of the night, with the city bustling below, you feel a renewed sense of self.

You will all your worries away. You’re right where you need to be. You’re heart must truly lie here.

You find that your room is the same as you left—comfortable, familiar, and filled with reminders of your life here. Pictures litter the walls, ones of you, of your friends, you with your friends. The bed is inviting, and you collapse onto it, exhaustion mingling with the exhilaration of being back home.

You reach for your Web-Watch, now resting beside you on the bedside table. It's a tangible reminder of where you've been and where you are now. In the other universe, you felt like you were constantly flying. Never a moment’s rest. At the very least, you were flying with people you liked.

But here, in this room, surrounded by mementos and the quiet hum of the city outside, you feel grounded. This is your home, your family, and they've welcomed you back with open arms. 

No matter, now you just want to sleep. You nestle into the softness of the pillows, allowing the weariness of your journey and the emotional release to finally catch up with you. Your thoughts are a jumble of faces and voices, memories and new beginnings.

Sleep comes easily, cradling you in its embrace as you drift off into a deep, restful slumber. 

Gwen’s Earth has always been pretty. Soft hues captivate you. It’s a world where the sky seems perpetually painted in pastels, casting a serene glow over the city below. Since you dipped on them last time to go home, they’ve decided that today is hang out time.

It’s always a sort of dance, swinging with the others. You and Gwen are more effortless in your grace, Pav comes close. The two of you twirl around each other, feeling the rush of wind and the freedom of the swing. The cityscape blurs past, a vibrant tapestry of lights and shadows.

“Show offs!” yells Miles, a ways behind you. Gwen's laughter rings out beside you, a melody of happiness that lifts your spirits even higher. The two of you share a glance, matching grins under your masks.

Miles zips past with a playful whoop, joining in the aerial dance with his own unique flair. He’s getting faster with his swinging. Hobie passes by as well, bumping you with his shoulder teasingly. You all swing through the cityscape, weaving between skyscrapers and navigating the intricate web of New York's skyline. 

As the night winds down, you find yourselves perched atop a familiar rooftop, looking out over the city sprawled beneath you. The lights of the city twinkle like stars, a breathtaking sight that never fails to inspire awe.

"I missed you guys," you admit, the words carrying a weight of sentimentality. "Being here, with all of you."

“Awe,” coos Pav, hands squishing his cheeks.

Miles grins, nudging you playfully. "You’re the one that disappeared on us.”

You laugh, feeling a surge of gratitude for these friends who have become your family across dimensions. "I promise, no more disappearing acts without warning."

With a final glance at the city below, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. In this moment, you’re surrounded by friends who care about you. Who could ask for more?

Together, you watch the sunrise paint the sky in hues of orange and pink, a new day dawning over the city that never sleeps.

“So…” hums Gwen, hands behind her back. You raise an eyebrow at her. “What was it like?”

You shake your head good-naturedly at her. Pav nods at her, looking at you. “Yeah, what did you do there?”

“Well for starters,” you clap your hands together, turning to face them all. “You guys got DC comics in your universe?”

“Like, Superman and stuff?” ask Miles.

You nod. He blinks. “No way.”

“Yes way,” you chuckle at their reactions, enjoying the disbelief on their faces. “Yeah, and guess where I landed.”

“Central City?”

“Themyscira!”

“Metropolis?”

You suck in air through your teeth dramatically. “Gotham.” They share a wince. Seems about right. "It's like someone took the grittiest, darkest parts of New York and turned them up to eleven," you explain, gesturing animatedly. "Never a dull moment. You've got Batman and the whole Batfamily running around. Don’t go to a carnival because Poison Ivy will attack it.”

Gwen raises an eyebrow. "Wait, you hung out with the Batfamily?"

You nod. “Yeah, I got like, initiated. I got myself enrolled in school, and Damian Wayne got involved. That snowballed into me getting involved with their superhero world, ‘cause you know, I wasn’t gonna stop being Spinnerette.”

Hobie fist bumps you in agreement. “Met Superboy, he’s a real sweetie. Consequently met his parents, and holy shit, Lois Lane is so cool.” Gwen nods hard in agreement. “I also technically made history when I remade Tony Stark's new element.”

You shrug at their stares. “I was trying to build a watch to get back home!” you defend, then turn to Hobie. “Which, by the way, you have to teach me how you did it. I’d rather not get stranded again, thank you.”

“Sounds like you had a blast over there,” teases Gwen, hooking her arm around you.

You scoff. “Once I got past the looming realization that I could be stuck there forever and never see my friends and family again, sure.” It’s a joke, but not really. “It was a bit unfair, I guess. I knew just about everything about them and they knew nothing about me. But I did… make friends there.”

“Just friends?” Pav leans in. You gulp, remembering what happened just before Miguel found you.

“Just friends,” you huff, shoving Pav back playfully. “Damian’s about as complicated as you’d expect, but he’s a good friend. Touchier than I thought he’d be. Intense, blunt, but still kind. And Jon’s… Jon’s Jon,” you continue, thinking back on your life in Gotham. “Real sweet, like I said. Earnest, kind, and desperately needs some brown contacts,” you chuckle fondly. “They’ve got a dynamic going on. But they’re also… just people. Like us.”

“Sounds like a really crazy telenovela,” hums Miles.

“Trust me, it was,” you agree, thinking of the rollercoaster of emotions and events you experienced. “But it was also… eye-opening. I learned a lot about myself, about what I’m capable of, and about what really matters to me.”

You lean back on your hands. “I just hope everything's okay. I kind of just… left.”

“You wanna go back?”

You hesitate, considering the question carefully. “Part of me does. I left things unfinished. But another part of me…” You glance at your friends, feeling a swell of warmth in your chest. “Another part of me knows that this is where I belong. With you guys. With my family.”

“Damn right,” says Gwen, punching you lightly in the arm.

“They don’t need me, anyway. I just hope they’re not too worried.” The sunrise bathes the rooftop in golden light, casting long shadows and warming the cool morning air. You take a deep breath, feeling at peace with your decision. For now, in this moment, you’re exactly where you need to be.

notes: if you don't know, '143' is slang for 'i love you', each number corresponds to the number of letter in each word of the phrase. reader's universe, earth-143258 means 'i love you in every universe', same rules.

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