#Jon Kent x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dulcet-aurora · 3 months ago

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scatterbrain . jon kent x reader ⸼ ࣪ ✿ ❛ kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. ❜

❪ in which. ❫ you make jon kent lose his mind a little.

⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. tooth rotting fluff. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚. this anon! ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕. 1.5k. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔. @di-lucss, @ephemerensis, @dollishmehrayan, @aangelinakii. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓. there was a note from an old situationship/talking stage/whatever term this fucked up generation has established for being in limbo with someone you like apologizing for fumbling me. it had been in there for a month. i didn't know. send help. also i'm kind of pushing the wasian!jon agenda idk. he's so 6'3 popular wasian boy coded. wasian!jon with glasses for the win! one last thing: ignore how i have no idea how to write teen!jon, i just know he's a sweetheart but incorporated themes of conventionally attractive teenage boys from my actual experience. i had to lock the conner kent lover inside of me behind bars. bear with me okay.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒆verybody loved jon kent. he never had anything bad to say about anyone, did his homework, loved his mom. he had a kind smile and a kinder heart, blue eyes and dark hair and glasses that always seemed to slip down his nose. there was nothing to dislike. you out of all people should be able to confirm that, taking as jon kent had been apart of your life since before there was a jon kent— your dads had interned at the daily planet back in high school and had been best friends ever since. you had known jon since you were squealing babies rolling around on a mat.

he'd been there when you were eleven and got your first period on the couch. you'd seen him through the awkward few years in middle school when his voice flew into awkward pitches and his shoulders and feet felt too big for him. he'd bandaged your scraped knees, learned to braid with your tangled hair. when the both of you were ten, you had sat next to him in the waiting room of the optometrist and comforted him due to his embarrassment with the new pair of clunky glasses sitting on his nose.

"you look just like your papa!" you'd said with a cheeky smile. you'd wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a hug as he smiled bashfully. lois had captured the moment on her phone and that picture sat snugly in a frame on his desk.

you leaned against his desk and stared at that photo, the frame cradled in your hands. on his desk sat another framed memory of you and him, much more recent. it was taken the previous summer when your family and his took a vacation to disney. he had his arms looped over your shoulders and his chin perched on your head as you stood in front of the tron ride. you held up a peace sign and were caught mid-laugh. you loved that picture.

everybody loved jon kent. but it was evident you loved him a little more.

raindrops drizzled down the windowpane and you set the picture back down on the desk. your eyes still lingered on the photo in the way warmth settled in your bones after a hug. a rumble of thunder echoed outside, rippling through the clouds like the tidal wave of warmth washing over your heart. you sank onto jon's desk chair and kept your eyes trained on the two framed photographs. different ages, but the same smiles, the same love for each other filling up the space between you.

you heard the click of a light switch turning on and you spun around in the chair to meet the startled eyes of today's jon kent, with a white towel wrapped around his waist and in complete lack of a shirt. droplets of water nestled themselves between his pectorals, dewy peach skin glowing in the golden light that bounced off the white towel, hugging perfect biceps and a sharp jawline.

you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands. all the warmth within your heart flooded your cheeks. jon jumped in time with a yelp, his hands scrambling to cover himself up. it wasn't as if you hadn't seen him without a shirt before, you had spent countless summer afternoons together in his pool. but this was different than seeing him in a swimsuit, being alone in his room with the chance of the towel around his waist dropping.

"what the fu—" jon cleared his throat and fumbled with his glasses that were balanced in his now shaking hands. you heard erratic footsteps that shook the floor and the harsh opening of his closet door. following was the desperate rustle for clothes and mumbled curses that were further muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

you babbled out apologies, attempting to bury your face even further into your hands than humanely possible. "sorry, sorry, sorry!" you shrieked, your squirming causing the chair to spin around slowly.

"what are you doing in my room?!" jon demanded, the sharpness of his words more flustered than angry.

"sorry, sorry!" you repeated, your face now buried in your biceps. you bit the inside of your elbow to keep yourself from screaming. "i— i thought you heard—"

"heard?!" jon exclaimed.

you heard footsteps outside the door and lois' voice called up, "is everything all right up there?"

jon glared at you, the fluster in his eyes shifting to desperation but still far from anger, before cupping a hand over his mouth and yelling back, "we're fine, mom!" you peered over your arms to see that— thankfully— he had clothes on now. a faded ac/dc t-shirt you'd gotten him at a thrift shop a few months ago that fit him disgustingly well and plaid pajama pants.

"you thought i heard?!" he hissed through clenched teeth before quietly closing the door to not cause anymore of a ruckus.

"i— i don't know!" you flapped your hands uselessly. "y-you have super-hearing and whatever, i don't know what your stupid periodic table genes give you!"

"periodic table?" he blinked, the agitation in his eyes clouding over in confusion before it finally registered in his brain. he looked at you with exasperated eyes, "ha, ha. you're as bad as damian." he shook his head to bring himself back to the current matter. "i was in the shower!"

"i was right outside!" you dug your nails into your cheeks. "you can hear people's heartbeats across the country! surely you can hear through a wall."

jon adjusted his glasses, giving you a look behind the lenses. "i'm not constantly checking your whereabouts."

you pressed the heels of your hands into your cheeks, trying to swallow down the awkwardness. it wasn't that big a deal. you exhaled and looked back at him with a look in your eyes that was a solution of earnestness and guile. "you should. i'm like, your best friend. in the whole wide world. the whole wide universe if i may be so bold. what if i went missing?"

"i'd find you, obviously," he muttered without missing a beat. he walked over, ruffling his damp hair and flicking your forehead as he passed you to get to his bed. you blinked and batted at his hand as the chair turned another circle.

you blew a stray lock of hair out of your face. "that's sweet." you smiled before turning back finding a bright blue hoodie and yanking it off the hanger. you slipped it on over your shoulders and let the warmth of cotton consume you. you caught a whiff of peppermint and aftershave on the hood. you hummed softly, the warmth of the fabirc and the comforting smell a mimic of jon's hugs.

"it's habit," jon gave you a shy grin. and that sweet something bloomed even bigger in your chest. he picked up a stray comic lying on his navy bedspread to hide the flush in his cheeks. "so... [ name ]." he dragged out the syllables of your name.

"so... jon." you mimicked his tone.

he looked up at you briefly, "that's my hoodie." he mumbled, his words sounding the slightest bit judgmental in your ears.

"i was cold," you said. "you gonna take it off?"

jon shot forward with a cough. "w-what?"

you toyed with the hem before closing the closet door and padding back over to his desk chair. "nothing," you said.

"what were you doing in my room," he asked suddenly, fighting to keep a casual tone as he grasped for another topic. he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"i spend more time in here than i do in my own house," you replied. "why the sudden concern?"

jon flipped a page with a harsh fwip and cleared his throat. "no reason. you staying for dinner?"

"probably." you eyed him suspiciously.

"cool. cool. that's cool." he mumbled, chewing the inside of his cheeks.

your eyes stayed trained on him, noticing the price sticker labelling the comic for two dollars resting on his knees. the comic was upside down. you snickered, "how's the book?" you drawled.

" 's good," jon said.

"you must be an exceptionally good reader," you teased.

jon looked up at you with sparkling eyes, "did i ever tell you i got put in the highest reading group in fourth grade?"

"yes, jon, i know. i was there with you."

"oh."

you giggled, standing up from the chair and sauntering over to the edge of his bed. "and miss harmon must've seen something truly special in you, jonny," you continued, tapping the top of the book. "if you can read a comic upside down."

jon's blue eyes stopped moving back and forth over the pages. your finger pushed the book down slowly until it fell onto his lap. he gave you a bashful smile, "hey."

"hi." you smiled back at him, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

he kissed his teeth and looked down at the comic resting on his legs. he pointed at it, then back at you. "kryptonian vision." he said with a quick nod.

"nice save."

#❪ dulcet-aurora ❫ 我 ⸼ ࣪ ✿#caroline writes ₊ ⊹ ❀#jon kent #jon kent x reader #supersons #superboy #jon el #jonathan kent #jon kent x you #dc #dc comics #dc x reader

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rizzanon · 4 months ago

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Babysitter

a damian wayne and batsis! reader oneshot ft. jon kent | m.list

Summary: your brother forces you to take him and his bestfriend along with you to wherever you’re going

You had a plan. A flawless, well-thought-out, foolproof plan.

Step one: Move quietly.

Step two: Avoid creaky floorboards.

Step three: Do not alert Damian Wayne, resident bloodhound.

You had your hand on the doorknob, your shoes were on.

You had one foot out the door. No one in sight. Freedom just within reach—

“Going somewhere?”

Your whole body froze.

Goddamnit it.

You knew that voice.

You closed your eyes, inhaled sharply through your nose, and prayed to whatever higher power was listening that maybe—just maybe—if you ignored him, he’d disappear.

No such luck.

A second voice, softer but just as damning, followed.

“Uh, I told him we should just let you go, but…”

You sighed. Of course.

With a slow turn, you met the unimpressed stare of Damian Wayne, standing in the dim hallway like the world’s smallest, most judgmental security system. His arms were crossed, his expression far too smug for someone who had no business being awake right now. And right beside him, slightly hunched and looking far too apologetic, was Jon Kent.

You stared at them. They stared back.

Finally, you spoke.

“I knew I should’ve left through the window.”

Jon winced. “Sorry. Again, I did say we should just let you go—”

“But he didn’t,” you deadpanned, shooting a look at Damian.

Damian tilted his head, unbothered. “Because you’re sneaking out.”

You scoffed. “I am not sneaking out—”

“You’re leaving without me. That’s the same thing.”

“It is not—”

“Semantics.”

You groaned louder. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

“Likewise,” Damian said flatly.

Jon, still watching this exchange like a confused referee, hesitantly raised a hand. “I feel like I should stop this.

At the exact same time, without missing a beat, you and Damian both turned to him and snapped—

“You stay out of this.”

Jon immediately took a step back, hands up in surrender. “Ah. Alright.”

You dragged a hand down your face, inhaling slowly before fixing your glare on Damian again.

“So,” you said, voice strained, “what do you want, Damian?”

Damian ignored your question. “Where are you going?”

You deadpanned. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Wrong answer.

“Tt. Incorrect. It is my business, because you’re taking us with you.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“No, yeah, I heard you. I just don’t think I should have.”

Jon stepped in, looking a little apologetic. “Sorry, he kinda roped me into this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a flat look before turning back to Damian. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“To accompany you.”

“Why?”

“You require supervision.”

You stared.

“…I require— Damian, I’m older than you.”

“By an unfortunate number of years, yes.”

You inhaled sharply, clenching your fists. “I don’t need supervision, you little gremlin.”

Jon cleared his throat. “To be fair, I think he means he needs supervision.”

You stared. “You require— Damian, you’re forcing me to babysit you?”

“Tt. Babysit is a strong word.”

“That’s literally what’s happening.”

“I prefer guardian escort.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Yet here we are.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply before muttering, “Where’s Alfred?”

“Out.”

“Dick?”

“Busy.”

“Tim?”

“Comatose, most likely.”

“Cass?”

“Training.”

“Jason?”

“Wouldn’t care.”

Your eye twitched. “And Dad?”

Damian raised an unimpressed brow.

“…Right,” you muttered.

Jon shot you another apologetic smile. “So, uh… that just leaves you?”

You let your head fall back with a long, suffering groan. “You are not going out with me.”

“And you’re supposed to be grounded.”

“That’s why I’m sneaking out, dipshit.”

There was a brief silence.

Damian let out a long, dramatic sigh, like you were the most exhausting person alive. “You continue to delude yourself if you think you’ll be able to succeed in sneaking out.”

“I hate you.”

Jon cleared his throat. “Um—”

Your expression softened immediately as you turned to him. “Not you, Jon. You’re fine. You’re good. Damian’s the problem.”

Jon blinked. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a tiny, bashful smile, cheeks just a little pink.

“Oh. Uh. Thanks?”

Damian, meanwhile, squinted. “What the hell?”

You ignored him, turning back to Jon. “See? This is how you behave, Damian. Maybe take notes.”

Damian’s scowl deepened. “I am nice.”

You snorted. “To who?”

“To you.” Damian snapped, like it was obvious.

Jon let out a tiny, poorly suppressed laugh.

You shot him a look. “Jon. Don’t encourage him.”

“Sorry,” Jon said, not looking sorry at all.

Damian scoffed. “So where are you even going?”

“Out.”

“Not without us.”

You stared. “No. Absolutely not.”

Damian just blinked.

Jon shuffled a little, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “I mean… if you don’t want us to come, that’s okay, I guess…”

And there it was.

The puppy-dog eyes.

You winced.

Damn it.

Jon Kent had mastered the art of looking genuinely dejected, and it was so unfair.

You hesitated. Pressed your lips together. “…It’s not that I don’t want you to come, it’s just—”

“Great,” Damian interrupted. “Then let’s go.”

You groaned. “That’s not what I meant—”

“You’re not exactly convincing me otherwise.”

“I will fight you.”

“I will win.”

Jon coughed. “This feels counterproductive.”

You shot him a betrayed look. “Jon. I thought we were friends.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I do want to go, though…”

Your eye twitched. You knew he was being genuine. But damn, he was dangerously good at making you feel so mean. You sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers.

“I hate being the responsible one.”

Damian smirked. “Then be irresponsible and take us with you.”

You snapped your head back down to glare at him. “That’s not how this works, moron.”

Jon stifled a laugh.

Damian just tilted his head, completely unfazed. “Yet here we are.”

You clenched your jaw. Closed your eyes. Took a very deep breath.

Then, begrudgingly—

“Fine.”

Jon brightened. “Really?”

You shot him a look. “Not like I have a choice, apparently.”

Damian’s smirk widened, victorious.

“But there are rules.”

You pushed the door open, already regretting everything. “One: No causing trouble. Two: No running off. Three—” You turned sharply to glare at Damian. “No murder.”

Jon blinked. “That has to be a rule?”

You looked at him, dead serious. “You’d be surprised.”

Damian scoffed. “You act as if I lack self-control.”

“You literally tried to stab a man at the grocery store last week.”

“He cut in line.”

“You pulled out a knife, Damian.”

“And?”

Jon looked as if he was used to this.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You are literally going to be the death of me.”

“Unlikely,” Damian deadpanned.

Jon patted your arm sympathetically. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

“I don’t want to breathe.”

“Understandable, but necessary.”

Damian scoffed. “Are you done yet?”

“Oh, I’m done,” you muttered, pushing open the door. “So done.”

And with that, you stepped outside, the two boys following close behind.

This was going to be a long day.

The night air was crisp, Gotham’s usual symphony of distant sirens, honking cars, and murmured conversations blending into the background as you walked down the quiet streets. The dim glow of streetlights cast long shadows across the sidewalk, but your focus was on the two boys trailing beside you.

Jon was practically buzzing with excitement, barely able to keep himself from skipping as he shot off rapid-fire questions.

“So, what were you going to do?”

You hummed. “What do you think I was gonna do?”

Jon tilted his head. “Go fight bad guys?”

You chuckled. “Nope.”

“Scout for intel?”

“Nope.”

“Secret mission?”

“Jon,” you laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hold your horses, kid. We’re doing nothing of that sort. Not when I’m around.”

Jon pouted but grinned anyway, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. “Well, then what are we doing?”

Before you could answer, you caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye.

Damian.

The boy had taken two steps to the side, eyes locked on the nearest alleyway, looking entirely too ready to vanish into the night.

“Oh, hell no.”

You reached out, snagging the back of his hoodie and pulling him to a halt.

“That goes for you too, mister,” you said, voice firm.

Damian let out an audible groan. “Tt.”

Jon blinked, confused. “Uh—what exactly was he about to do?”

“Disappear into the shadows”

Jon turned to Damian, frowning. “Dude.”

Damian merely sniffed, looking vaguely offended at the idea that he of all people needed babysitting. “I was merely about to scout the area for any dangers.”

You gave him a flat look. “We’re on a sidewalk, Damian.”

“And?”

You exhaled sharply. “You are not ditching me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“Tt. You have no proof.”

“I have a brain.”

Jon held up a finger. “Technically, that’s not proof—”

You turned to him, exasperated. “Jon.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

Damian crossed his arms, unimpressed. “So, what are we doing?”

You just smiled.

Luxurious. That was the only word for the place you were in.

Soft, ambient lighting filled the space, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The gentle sound of water trickling from an ornamental fountain mixed with the low, soothing hum of instrumental music playing from hidden speakers. A faint scent of lavender, eucalyptus, and something faintly citrusy hung in the air, lulling your body into relaxation almost instantly.

You let out a slow sigh, sinking further into the plush lounge chair as the nail technician expertly shaped your nails. Across from you, Jon was already wrapped up in a fluffy white robe, a cooling face mask spread across his skin, and a woman massaging his shoulders. He looked blissful.

Damian, on the other hand, was sitting stiffly in a massage chair, arms crossed, looking like he was being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment. His expression was set into a deep scowl, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders had started to relax under the therapist’s touch—albeit reluctantly.

You smirked, wiggling your fingers as the technician moved on to buffing your nails. “Well?”

“Tt.”

Damian’s eyes were shut as if that alone could block out his misery. “You dragged us to a spa.”

You grinned. “I treated you to a spa.”

Damian let out another Tt.

You turned to him, amused. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

Damian scowled. “I don’t see the point.”

“The point,” you drawled, stretching your legs, “is relaxation.”

“I don’t need relaxation.”

“You literally live with Bruce Wayne. You need it the most.”

Jon let out a snort of laughter.

Damian shot him a glare. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just grinned wider, looking far too content. “Nope.”

You chuckled, letting your head fall back against the chair. “Face it, Damian. You like it here.”

“I hate this.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I loathe you.”

You didn’t miss the way his shoulders had slowly started to loosen.

Or the way his scowl wasn’t as deep as before.

“You love me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jon let out a happy sigh, sinking deeper into his chair. “I knew you had a good plan.”

You shot him finger guns. “Always do.”

Jon chuckled, then suddenly let out a little noise of contentment as the massage therapist pressed into his shoulders just right. He melted into the chair, the sheer bliss evident on his face.

“Aww,” you cooed, reaching over to gently pat his head. “Look at you, kid. Living the life.”

Jon made a happy little noise in response, fully leaning into the massage.

Damian scowled. “Are you coddling him?”

“Yes,” you said immediately.

Damian scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

You smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to be coddled?”

Damian’s entire face twisted into disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You laughed, nudging Jon. “See? He’s jealous.”

Jon barely opened one eye, too relaxed to care. “Yep.”

Damian turned his glare to him now. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just smiled. “Just saying the truth, Damian.”

“You wish.”

You stifled a laugh, watching Damian attempt to shrink further into his chair, clearly regretting ever coming along. You were definitely going to remind him of this later.

The spa had been a fantastic idea—well, for you and Jon, at least.

Damian? Not so much.

At first, he acted as if he were enduring actual torture. When they tried to give him a robe, he scowled as if they’d offered him poison. When they led him to the massage chair, he sat down stiffly, arms crossed, eyes darting around as though expecting an assassination attempt. The moment the massage therapist placed their hands on his shoulders, his entire body locked up.

“This is unnecessary,” Damian muttered as you and Jon stifled your laughter.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, leaning back as a technician buffed your nails. “Completely unnecessary. That’s why you’re staying right there and relaxing.”

“I am always relaxed.”

You and Jon shared a look.

Jon, his face already covered in a cooling mask, turned toward Damian. “Dude, your entire body is clenched like a steel beam.”

“Tt. I am merely prepared.”

“Prepared for what? A surprise attack by the scented candles?” you teased.

Damian glared at you, but then the massage therapist hit a particular spot on his back, and you swore you saw his soul briefly leave his body. His lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering for a split second before he forcibly locked himself down again, pretending nothing had happened.

“Oh my god,” you grinned. “You liked that.”

Damian turned his head away, nose upturned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But he did shift ever so slightly to let the massage therapist work deeper into his back. You and Jon exchanged victorious smirks but wisely didn’t comment further.

Well—except for Jon’s quiet, “Told you you’d like it.”

Damian kicked him under the table.

After a tedious amount of time, Damian had finally let himself relax. Not entirely—he was still Damian, after all—but enough that he no longer looked like he wanted to eviscerate someone.

Jon, meanwhile, had been living the dream since the moment you arrived. You’d made sure to book an extensive package for him, complete with a massage, a face mask, a manicure, and even a foot scrub.

The problem?

Jon’s Kryptonian genes.

The poor spa technicians had no idea what they had signed up for.

It started when they tried using a gua sha stone on his face.

The second they dragged the tool across his cheek, there was a horrifying screech—the sound of something hard scraping against something impenetrable.

The esthetician froze, blinking at the gua sha in her hand.

Jon winced. “Uh…”

Then she tried again. More forcefully.

SCCCRRREEEEEEE—

Damian cringed as the sound echoed through the room, making your ears ring. “That is unbearable.”

“I—I don’t think it’s supposed to sound like that,” Jon said weakly.

The esthetician, determined, switched to a jade roller.

The exact same thing happened.

“Okay,” the woman murmured, frowning. “We’ll, uh, circle back to that.”

Then came the body scrub.

Which was supposed to be exfoliating.

Except the scrub was doing nothing.

Jon, ever the polite one, just smiled sheepishly as the technician literally pushed down with all her strength, trying to get some kind of reaction.

“…You don’t feel anything?” she asked, breathless.

“Uh.” Jon paused. “I mean. It’s kinda nice?”

Damian looked deeply entertained. “This is absurd.”

You nudged him. “You’re absurd.”

“Tt.”

Then came the nail buffing.

Oh, the nail buffing.

The technician tasked with filing Jon’s nails was genuinely putting her whole body into it. You could see her arm muscles flexing as she went back and forth, desperately trying to shape his nails with an emery board that had already worn down to nothing.

At one point, she wiped her forehead. “Are you sure you’re not wearing, like… armor?”

Jon laughed nervously. “Nope, this is, uh, all-natural.”

The woman blinked. Then, deciding to just accept that reality was being weird today, simply nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll… figure something out.”

Jon beamed. “Thanks!”

You patted his head. “Good job, buddy.”

Jon grinned. “I think this is nice.”

And truly, it was. You were finally getting a break, Damian had sort of warmed up to the experience, and Jon was having the time of his life.

It was peaceful.

It was relaxing.

It was exactly what you needed.

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

The peace was shattered by the sound of screaming outside.

Your head snapped toward the spa entrance just in time to see a group of civilians running past in a panic. Then—explosions.

And the unmistakable whir of something mechanical.

You bolted upright.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Jon was already standing, ripping the robe off and revealing his Superboy costume underneath.

Damian, meanwhile, pulled a full Batman move by seemingly materializing his utility belt and weapons out of nowhere.

Before you could even say anything, the two boys were gone—leaping straight out the spa’s open balcony.

You turned to the wide-eyed spa staff, letting out a long sigh.

“Boys being boys, am I right?” You forced a smile, desperately trying to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. “They’re die-hard fans for action. Can’t help themselves.”

For a brief moment, the room was silent as the estheticians exchanged confused glances.

Then, in the most awkward and abrupt way possible, you scrambled to grab your purse, fumbling around as you threw an absolutely ridiculous sum of cash onto the counter—enough to more than cover the treatments, plus a hefty tip for the staff that definitely deserved more than a little credit for surviving this spa chaos.

The technicians just stared at the money, stunned into silence.

You didn’t stick around for questions.

You bolted after the two boys—still wrapped in your robe, your hair tied up in a towel, and your face mask half-finished.

You were praying—praying—that the day would somehow not end up on the news—though you knew full well that was already a lost cause. But hey, at least you were going to have one heck of a story to tell.

You finally made it to the street corner, and saw Amazo-tech robots rampaging through the streets, blasting apart cars and sending civilians running. Jon was in the air, flying between them, lasers shooting from his eyes as he took them down one by one. Damian was on the ground, expertly maneuvering around, slicing through the robots’ weak points.

You were impressed.

But you were also trying not to yell at the two boys.

Because Damian was still wearing his spa robe over his Robin suit.

And Jon still had his facial mask on.

“Just once,” you muttered to yourself, laughing despite the absurdity. “Just once, I want a normal day out.”

But then again, in Gotham, that was never going to happen.

The Batcave had never felt so… tense. The lights flickered above, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the dark expressions of the adults standing before you. You, Damian, and Jon stood side by side, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

Bruce was standing at the forefront, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes narrow and calculating. Alfred, behind him, looked as if he were about to take away all your privileges for the rest of your lives. Clark had one hand over his face, clearly trying to stifle an impending headache, while Lois had her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to explode in frustration.

The silence stretched on, suffocating. Then, finally, Bruce spoke, his voice quiet but stern.

“So,” he said, voice level. “Would you care to explain yourselves?”

Before you could even open your mouth—

“It was her idea,” Damian said immediately, pointing at you.

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me—”

He met your glare with a simple, “You were the adult in charge.”

You gaped at him. “Oh, so now I’m the adult?! When I was paying for the spa day, you were more than happy to—”

“Tt.”

“Don’t you ‘Tt’ me, you little shit..!”.”

Bruce let out a long, suffering sigh.

Jon cleared his throat. “It all worked out, though. We saved the day, didn’t we?”

The adults all exchanged a look, their faces unreadable for a moment. Lois then shakes her head and pulled out her phone, tapping something before showing the screen.

It was a photo.

A civilian had snapped a very clear picture of the battle—showing Robin, still in his spa robe, kicking an Amazo-robot in the face while Superboy, face still covered in a facial mask, was mid-air punching another.

It was already trending.

Jon looked at it.

Then, sheepishly, he shrugged.

“…It was nice...?”

Clark just let out a hearty chuckle.

“Well, it’s a memorable way to save Gotham. At least you three enjoyed yourselves.” he said, earning a small chuckle from Lois.

Bruce closed his eyes, clearly questioning his life choices. He rubbed his temples as Lois and Clark just share a look. “….We will discuss this later. Go and get yourselves cleaned up.”

It’s safe to say that your grounding just got a whole lot longer.

i had this as a scene to write for undoing fate but it didn’t quite fit into it as much as i’d like it to so it became a oneshot outside of it instead (completely unrelated to undoing fate but you can imagine it happening between chapter 7-9 when they’re posted lol) but hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality @shirp-collector-of-fixations @gneepgnorpsneepsnorp @skerbablo @dind1n @gwyneveire @yukixies @kristalag @greantii | ask to be added <3

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cherrrydragon · 10 months ago

Text

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

CHAPTER NINETEEN: INTERTWINED, SEWN TOGETHER

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SUMMARY ↳ And the universe said, "I love you." You stare at them. "Infinite universes. Infinite possibilities." pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none wc: 4.6k

It’s nighttime in Gotham, a city of shadows and contrasts that you've come to know well. The skyline is a jagged silhouette against the dark canvas of the night sky, punctuated by the occasional glimmer of lights from skyscrapers and streetlamps below.

You swing gracefully through the city, the rhythm of your movements second nature after months of navigating these streets. The cool breeze brushes against you, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and distant echoes of Gotham's perpetual hustle.

Arriving at a familiar rooftop, you land softly and take a moment to survey your surroundings. Oftentimes this is where, Damian and Jon often met you, a secluded spot where you can discuss plans, share moments of quiet, or simply enjoy each other's company away from the chaos of your nightly duties.

Tonight, however, the rooftop is empty when you arrive. The absence of their familiar presence gives you a moment to reflect on everything that has brought you to this point—the life you’ve led, the friendships you cherish, and the burgeoning feelings that have taken root in your heart.

You find yourself replaying conversations and moments in your mind, Jon's warmth and Damian's complexities intertwined with your own thoughts and uncertainties. The city seems to hold its breath around you, as if waiting for your next move.

You don’t get to, because you feel a sudden and violent gust of wind, and then there’s someone right behind you.

“[Name],” Jon breathes, pajamas and all. You turn around slowly, senses buzzing at his presence.

He takes two half-hearted steps towards you, before using his speed to get right in front of you in the split of a second. He reaches out a hand, almost instinctively, as if to steady you or perhaps himself. His gaze searches yours, his expression a mix of relief and something more complicated, something you can't quite decipher in the dim rooftop light.

“It’s you. It’s really you,” he says, reverently. His eyes trace your face, taking in every feature. “There’s no one else with that heartbeat.”

And, fuck, if that doesn’t just completely do you over.

He places his hands on your arms tightly, pulling you to him. As if you’ll disappear if he isn’t holding onto you. “What happened? Where were you?”

You try to speak, but no words come out. “You were just gone. I couldn’t hear you at all,” he whispers. He spots the Web-Watch. “What is this? Did whoever took you put it on you? Is it hurting you?”

His hand wanders over to it, and you suddenly remember how you first got stuck here in the first place. You snatch your wrist out of his range, because his strength is no joke. He looks at you confused. “It’s mine,” you choke out.

Jon's eyes narrow slightly, searching yours as if trying to unravel the mystery that surrounds you. He grabs your hands in his, gently bringing them up his face. “[Name], [Name][Name][Name],” he mutters. His lips move against your fingers, breath warm. “We’ve been searching for you everywhere.”

“I’m sorry.”

He closes his eyes tight and shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.” Jon's grip on you loosens slightly, his eyes flickering with a mixture of relief and lingering worry. "We missed you," he admits quietly. "Damian's been impossible, you know. He wouldn't rest until..."

You sigh deeply. “I honestly… didn’t think you’d care all that much,” you manage, your voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of the city's distant sounds.

“Why wouldn’t we care?” he near growls, looking at you fiercely. “With how we feel–” he cuts himself, breathing deeply. Jon's expression softens, his gaze holding yours with a depth of emotion that resonates through the quiet rooftop air. His hands remain on yours, a gentle warmth that anchors you in the moment. "I didn't think I'd see you again," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” he asks, hands moving to run down your sides. It feels nice.

“No.” Your hands lay gently on his, not moving them. “I need to tell you something. You and Damian.”

Jon's hands pause their gentle exploration, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that reflects both concern and a hint of apprehension. The rooftop seems to hold its breath around you, the city's distant sounds providing a muted backdrop to this moment of intimacy and vulnerability.

“Can you take us to the Den? To talk?”

"The Den," he repeats softly, as if testing the idea. "Yeah, we can go there. Whatever you need." His voice carries a reassurance, tinged with an unspoken question. "Are you sure you're okay to talk about this now?" Oh, Jon. Ever the sweetheart.

You nod, taking a moment to steady yourself. "You deserve to know.”

He scoops you up in his arms tentatively. His eyes linger on your form wrapped in his arms, almost longingly. He sighs when he feels your arms wrapped around his neck. He flies you across the city, urgent but at the same time leisurely. Trying to savor whatever time with you.

As you arrive, Jon gently sets you down, his concern apparent and his touch gentle. The Den's interior is familiar and comforting, the place a testament to your resilience. It looks just like you left it, like it was frozen in time. The sight of it makes your heart squeeze.

His hands gently cup your face, turning you to him. “I’m gonna go get Dami,” he says, not making any move to let you go.

Your gaze is filled with infinite amounts of fondness for the boy. “I’ll be here,” you promise. You bring your hands to his face and angle him so you lay a sweet and cherished kiss on his cheek. “I promise.”

His eyes fall to your lips for a few aching seconds before he nods. Jon lingers for a moment longer, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek before he reluctantly pulls away.

"I'll be right back," he murmurs, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance as he turns to leave the Den.

You watch Jon go, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness settle in your chest. Alone in the quiet of the Den, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. . The soft light from the fairy lights cast gentle shadows around you, creating a cocoon of solitude.

Minutes stretch into a timeless space, each second filled with the weight of anticipation. You find yourself replaying moments with Jon—his earnest concern, the warmth in his touch, and the unspoken emotions that seemed to hover between you both. Damian's complex presence also flickers through your thoughts, his sharp wit and guarded vulnerability leave an undeniable mark on your heart.

Finally, the soft sound of footsteps heralds Jon's return. He enters with Damian in tow, the atmosphere shifting subtly with their presence. Damian's expression is a mix of relief and something harder to define—perhaps a blend of concern and guarded hope. He approaches with a measured stride, his posture betraying a readiness to hear whatever you have to say.

Jon moves to stand beside you, a reassuring presence at your side. His hand finds yours, offering silent support and encouragement. Damian's gaze flickers between you and Jon, his demeanor a mix of curiosity and a hint of apprehension.

"Where have you been?" Damian demands, his voice edged with a mixture of relief and frustration.

Jon looks at him sternly, and, surprisingly (is it really, though?), Damian’s demeanor stutters. The silent signal calms his initial intensity. His gaze softens fractionally as he looks back at you. Damian contemplates for a moment, before sighing and approaching you. He takes you in with a mix of guarded concern and curiosity, his usual stoic demeanor softened slightly by the relief of seeing you safe.

“Beloved,” he mutters without constraint. His use of the endearment catches you off guard, a rare display of vulnerability from someone so often guarded. It almost makes you want to cry. He takes your face in his hands, the same way Jon did.

You feel his fingers trace your lips, a gesture that speaks volumes in its tenderness. Damian's gaze searches yours, his usually sharp eyes softened by an emotion you rarely see openly displayed. "Where have you been?"

"I thought... we thought..." he continues, voice faltering for a moment, as if grappling with the weight of his own emotions. "Are you hurt?" he asks quietly, his concern palpable in every word.

You shake your head slowly, overcome by the intensity of the moment and the flood of emotions that threaten to spill over. "I'm okay," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the Den.

Damian exhales sharply, a mixture of relief and lingering tension leaving his frame. He pulls you into a tight embrace, surprising you with the strength and earnestness of his hold. His arms wrap around you protectively, as if to shield you from any harm that might dare to approach.

"I wasn't sure if you would return," Damian admits quietly, his tone tinged with a mix of vulnerability and something deeper, something you're beginning to recognize as a bond that goes beyond mere partnership or friendship.

Jon's presence beside you feels like a grounding force, and as Damian's arms wrap around you, you realize just how much you missed this—missed them. You close your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped by the warmth of their concern and the strength of their embrace. It's a moment that transcends words, a silent affirmation of the bond you share with them.

When Damian finally releases you, his gaze still holds that unspoken question, the need to understand where you've been and why you were gone. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to share the truth with them, to lay bare the secrets that have kept you apart.

Silence stretches between you, filled with words not said and emotions too raw to name. Finally, Damian breaks the silence, his voice steady yet filled with a quiet plea. "Don't disappear again."

You squeeze his hand gently, a silent promise passing between you. "I won't," you assure him, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to share the truth with them, to lay bare the secrets that have kept you apart. Jon and Damian's eyes remain locked on you, their concern and anticipation on display in the quiet of the Den.

"Where do I even start?" you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me, things I’ve kept hidden because…well, because I thought it was for the best." Jon's hand tightens around yours in silent support, while Damian's expression remains intense and focused, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m not from here,” you state, hesitant be damned. You’ve spent far too long hesitating. “I’m from Earth-143258 in an alternate universe.”

Jon and Damian exchange a glance, their expressions shifting from confusion to curiosity. Jon's grip on your hand tightens slightly, while Damian's intense focus on you doesn't waver.

“A universe where you, where the Justice League and Gotham and Metropolis don’t exist…” you look at them, “...outside of a series of comics.”

Damian's brow furrows, and Jon's eyes widen with a mix of intrigue and concern. The weight of your revelation hangs heavy in the air, the enormity of it settling in their minds.

"A different universe," Damian echoes, his voice filled with a blend of skepticism and curiosity. "And in this universe, we're...fictional?"

You nod, feeling the intensity of their gazes. "Yes. In my world, you’re all characters in comic books, movies, TV shows... You’re heroes in stories, legends. But here, you're real."

“A man named Miguel O’Hara, the Spider-Man of Earth-928, made an autonomous multiverse jump using a device like this.” You lift up your wrist to show them the Web-Watch. “Using it, he amassed an elite force of others like him from different universes. Including me.”

“Karen, would you mind?” you ask. Suddenly, a hologram forms, showing the intricate base of operations that is the Spider-HQ. “Our purpose is to protect the multiverse from anomalies and threats that could destroy entire realities. Sometimes people end up in the wrong universe, and we send them back to their home universe as well.” The hologram casts a gentle glow on their faces. “We call it the Spider-Society.”

The hologram shifts, changing into a bright tree. An intricate veil of webs expands around you, filling the space. “This is all of us. All of our lives woven together in a web.” You take a moment to admire the image. “The web of the multiverse.”

Jon and Damian stare at the hologram, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief. The tree of webs illuminates the Den, casting intricate shadows that seem to weave the narrative you’re sharing. Jon's grip on your hand remains firm, a silent anchor as you delve deeper into your explanation.

“All of our stories are pretty much the same. We get bit by a radioactive spider that gives us powers, and we use those powers to help people.”

Damian listens intently, his usual skepticism softened by the gravity of your words. He glances at Jon, silently exchanging a look that conveys both their shared disbelief and the realization that your story, no matter how fantastical, is being delivered with sincerity.

“Was there an… anomaly in our universe then?” ask Damian, looking at you.

“No,” you sigh. “I was never supposed to be here.”

Your legs carry you closer to the hologram, Jon following in an effort to not lose his grip on you. “I found a particle accelerator. Most of the time that means nothing good. Turns out, an alternate version of me,” you emphasize, “[Name] [L.Name], had gotten stuck in my universe and was just trying to get home. But seeing me,” you pause, taking a breath.

“All they saw was someone trying to get in their way. They activated the particle accelerator and threw me in it.” You turn to look at them. “That’s how I ended up here.”

Damian and Jon exchange a glance, their expressions a mix of disbelief and concern. Jon's grip on your hand tightens slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and determination.

“So, you’ve been… lost all this time?” Jon asks softly, his voice carrying the weight of the revelation.

“The whole reason I wanted to create the badassium was so I could use it to power another watch,” you say, looking down at it. “Since other me destroyed it.”

“A while ago, they visited me. In this universe.” You look at Jon. “On New Years.” You watch as recognition flickers in his eyes. “You can imagine how well I reacted.”

“That’s why you were crying,” he says softly in realization. “Suddenly seeing the reason you were… stuck.”

“I told them to find Miguel O’hara. And he did, a week ago.”

Jon's hand brushes your cheek gently, his touch a comforting presence amidst the weight of your words. Damian stands nearby, his expression unreadable as he processes the implications of your story.

“So, this entire time,” he begins, voice hinting with disbelief, “while we have been over ourselves with worry that you were somewhere hurt–”

“Damian,” cuts in Jon sternly.

Damian ignores him. “You were enjoying yourself, finally home and away from this cursed place you got stuck in? Somewhere we couldn’t even begin to look for you? Is that it?”

Your heart sinks at Damian's words, his anger and frustration cutting deeply. You can see the mix of emotions in his eyes—relief, betrayal, confusion—all battling for dominance.

“No,” you whisper desperately. “No, it wasn’t like that. In fact, the whole time I was home I couldn’t focus on being happy because I was focused on you,” you state. “On how I left things and how I wished I could explain everything to you but who could I when there’s such a disconnect between us–” you choke, cutting yourself off.

“Didn’t you think we cared? That we deserved to know?”

You flinch at his words, the truth of them hitting harder than you expected. “I… I didn’t know what to think,” you admit quietly, meeting Damian’s gaze with a mix of regret and vulnerability. “In my world, you’re… different. Fictional. I never expected…” Your voice trails off, unable to find the right words to express the complexity of your emotions.

“I would’ve never even considered the possibility of your existence before now,” you whisper. “I really should’ve known better.”

You stare at them. “Infinite universes. Infinite possibilities.”

“Then why didn’t you stay?” Damian asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you were finally home, why come back?”

You take a deep breath, the weight of Damian's question hanging in the air. Your gaze shifts between Jon and Damian, their eyes reflecting the depth of their concern and the complexity of their feelings.

“How could I?” you ask them. “After everything, how could you expect me not to feel the way I feel?”

"When I first got here," you continue, "I felt lost, out of place. But then I met you both, and everything changed. You became my friends, my partners, my family. The thought of leaving you behind... pretending everything that happened never happened. It was unbearable."

“You're real,” you say softly. “Everything about you, and everything I feel about you is real.”

Silence descends upon the Den, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Damian's gaze remains fixed on you, his usual guarded demeanor momentarily faltering under the weight of your sincerity. You feel Jon’s grip on you tighten, a constant presence of support and understanding at your side.

You breathe in. “I’m telling you this now, because you deserve to know. And if you’ll have me..”

Looking at them now is like looking at destiny. “I’d like to stay in your lives.”

Damian's expression softens imperceptibly, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of contemplation and something deeper that you can't quite decipher. Jon squeezes your hand gently, a silent reassurance that speaks volumes amidst the unspoken tension in the room. They look at each other for a heart stopping moment.

"Beloved," Damian murmurs softly, his voice holding a rare vulnerability. "You've been missed."

Jon nods in agreement, his eyes conveying a depth of emotion that mirrors your own. "We want you here," he says quietly, his voice a steady anchor in the midst of uncertainty.

You nod, a weight lifting from your shoulders as you step closer to them. Jon's arms wrap around you first, pulling you into a warm embrace that feels like coming home. Damian joins, his embrace steady and reassuring, his presence a grounding force amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of their embrace resonate deep within you. "Thank you," you say, your voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you for choosing me.”

Jon presses a gentle kiss to your temple, and Damian's hand finds yours, his grip firm and reassuring. "We always will," Jon vows, his voice steady.

“Well,” starts Jon, grabbing your shoulder to turn you to face him. “If it’s no trouble, I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Your chuckle breaks the tension, and you nod, unable to keep the smile off your face. Jon's eyes light up with a mix of relief and affection as he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

It’s different from Damian’s kiss. His lips move in tandem against yours, intertwined, sewn together. His hands rest on your waist, squeezing lightly.

Jon's kiss is a symphony of warmth and tenderness, a stark contrast to the urgency and passion that often defines Damian's touch. You can feel the depth of his emotions in every gentle movement of his lips, the way he holds you as if you're the most precious thing in his world. The kiss is a promise, a reassurance, and a declaration all at once.

Damian watches the exchange with a soft, almost imperceptible smile. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your chin, tilting your face towards him. "Beloved," he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate rumble. "My turn."

His kiss is different from Jon's—more intense, a reflection of his complex emotions and the guarded vulnerability he's allowed himself to show. It's a kiss that speaks of his longing, his relief. When he finally pulls back, his eyes search yours, seeking reassurance.

Later that night, you sit between Jon and Damian, cuddled up on a worn-out couch in the Den, the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a warm light around the room. Small talk fills the space.

“Wait, so, Wonder Woman doesn’t exist, but Thor, God of thunder, does?” asks Jon. You’re not paying all that much attention to him since the feeling of his fingers caressing your side is quite distracting.

“I guess the universe picked and chose,” you hum.

“So there’s no Justice League?”

“There's the Avengers,” you say. “Just as cool as the Justice League. And they’re my friends,” you grin triumphantly.

Damian listens quietly, eyes lidded and content. “Were you a fan of these comics you mentions earlier?”

Your grin turns a little shy. “Maybe just a little bit.”

Jon's fingers trace idle patterns on your arm, a comforting gesture that grounds you in the present moment. "Does that mean you know all our secrets?" he teases lightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. “I don’t need pre-knowledge to figure out all I need to know about you.” Your hand flattens against his chest, rubbing along it.

Jon sighs at your touch, eyes fluttering. “Smooth,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to yours. You melt into the kiss, the warmth of Jon’s lips against yours sending a shiver down your spine. His hand moves to cup your cheek tenderly, his touch gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity that speaks of promises and shared moments.

Across from you, Damian watches with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, his gaze lingering on the intimacy between you and Jon. He clears his throat, drawing your attention. “As much as I appreciate witnessing this... display of affection,” he says, voice tinged with a hint of dry humor, “perhaps now is not the time.”

Jon presses a few more kisses to your lips before breaking away. “You’re just jealous,” Jon teases, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied grin.

Damian rolls his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitch upward in a rare display of amusement. “Hardly. You two are insatiable.”

“Insatiable is right,” you mutter, staring at Damian’s lips.

Damian raises an eyebrow at your comment, a hint of amusement coloring his expression. "I beg your pardon?"

You shrug, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I mean, you're not exactly innocent in all of this," you tease, leaning closer to him. "The way you kissed me back then..."

You turn back to look at Jon. “Did you know he picked me up and pinned me against the wall?”

Jon’s eyes widen in mock surprise, his playful demeanor matching yours. “Did he now?” he asks, leaning closer with exaggerated curiosity. “You have to tell me all about it.”

Damian's cheeks color slightly, but he meets your teasing with a smirk. "I don't recall you complaining," he retorts, his voice laced with amusement.

You move, placing yourself on Damian’s lap, and wrapping your arms around his neck. Damian's hands settle comfortably around your waist as you settle on his lap, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of amusement and something deeper, a warmth that lingers beneath his usual stoic demeanor. Jon watches the exchange with a playful grin, leaning back against the couch as he enjoys your dynamic.

Damian’s expression softens slightly, his sharp features betraying a hint of the turmoil beneath. “I… I apologize for my earlier insensitivity,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a rare humility. “It’s… difficult to process.”

You lean forward, your hands playing with Damian's hair as you look into his eyes. "Don’t apologize," you say softly. "I get it."

Damian's gaze softens as he meets your eyes, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to a vulnerability that speaks volumes. "Thank you," he murmurs quietly, his voice holding a depth of emotion that resonates through the quiet of the Den.

Jon watches the exchange with a soft smile, his hand finding yours once more as he leans in closer. "We're here for you," he says gently, his voice a steady reassurance amidst the lingering tension.

You smile warmly, leaning in to press a kiss to Damian's forehead. "We're in this together," you assure him, your voice filled with sincerity. Jon leans in from his spot beside you, pressing a kiss to Damian's cheek with a fond grin.

Oh, you remember something. “You know what I found out?” A small grin spreads across your face. “I went to have a talk with alternate me.” Your finger gently traces patterns on Damian’s chest. “Found out something really interesting.”

“And what would that be?” Damian mutters, subdued by your touch. Jon’s hand comes up to rest on your back.

“Most of us Spider’s usually have the same people in our lives,” you begin, voice dropping. “A Gwen Stacy, an MJ, maybe a Felicia Hardy,” you lift your head to look at Damian. “AKA, the Spider’s very own cat burglar, Black Cat.” Damian raises a brow at that.

“However, they didn’t have any of those people. You know what they did have, though?” you ask, pausing for dramatic effect.

“They had you two,” you say softly, gaze shifting between them. “Damian Wayne and Jon Kent. Not Superboy or Robin, just completely normal people.” Jon and Damian exchange a glance, their expressions reflecting a mix of surprise and contemplation.

“I love you,” you say, smiling softly. “I love you in every universe.”

Jon stares at you, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and affection. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, a silent affirmation of his feelings. Damian looks up at you like you're a thing to be worshiped, face one of awe. “We love you too,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that resonates through the quiet of the Den.

Jon sighs contentedly, leaning back into the couch with a smile. "I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that," he admits, his voice smitten.

You laugh softly, the warmth of their affection enveloping you in a cocoon of happiness. "Get used to it," you tease gently, resting your head against Damian's shoulder. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Damian's hand finds yours, his touch grounding and reassuring. "We wouldn't want you to," he murmurs, his voice a soft whisper that echoes through the room.

Jon nods in agreement, his gaze never leaving yours. "You're stuck with us," he says with a playful grin, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

The three of you settle into a comfortable silence, the Den filled with the quiet intimacy of shared moments and spoken promises. As the night stretches on, you find yourself surrounded by the warmth of their presence, knowing that in this moment, and in the countless moments to come, you've found who you truly belong with.

Wrapped in their embrace, you let all your worries wash away, the echoes of their voices and the steady rhythm of their hearts lulling you into a state of peace. In the quiet darkness of the Den, amidst the city's distant hum, you find solace in the knowledge that you are home—at last, and always—with Jon and Damian by your side.

notes: see you guys sunday for the epilogue :)

#damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #jon kent x reader #robin x reader #superboy x reader

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hearts4mica · 4 months ago

Text

Darling never grow up

Imagine l Jon looking up to Batsis like an older sister and her reciprocating and Damian not liking sharing his sister.

Platonic! Jon Kent and batsis

Masterlist Part 2 Here!

———————————————————————————

——————————————————————————— The first time Jon went to the Wayne Manor was after school. Alfred drove them home to “do a proyect” to hang out.

The first time Jon met you was in the kitchen where you were grabbing some ice cream.

———————————————————————————

You felt someone watching you, so you turned around expecting that someone to be Damian cause that person was silent but when you turned around-

It was a small child well not that small- a short child around Damian’s age.

He looked at you. He had big blue eyes, he was staring directly into your soul. Just like those people with blue eyes do, he had a baby face.

You had never seen him in your whole life.

“Hello there uhm what is your name hun?” You ask curiously.

Was he another child Bruce adopted?

“Im Jon! Damian’s bff- ‘BFF’ means Best Friend Forever if case you didn’t know!” He said excitedly.

Wow. He was a really extroverted kid quite the opposite of Damian he reminded you somehow to Dick. Big blue eyes, extroverted- maybe being extroverted was a rule to have blue eyes?

In Jon’s side well he had never met you before. He didn’t even know that Damian had an older sister! He only knew his brothers.

You blink you didn’t know Damian had friends. Not in a mean way obviously but he always seemed so closed about this subject.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Jon. Are you perhaps looking for Damian?”

“Nope just looking for water!” He answered happily.

“Oh well let me help you then”.

———————————————————————————

In that moment Jon decided that he was adopting you as his older sister.

———————————————————————————

Some time after Jon flew home, you went into Damian’s room.

He was laying down on his bed reading some random book he probably stole from Jason.

“Soo?” you ask with a small smile on your face

“So what?” [name] be specific.” He says in a bored tone not taking his eyes off his book.

“You have a friend! Dami you listened to my advice! Im soo happy for you” you throw yourself onto his bed and hug him.

He sighs annoyedly and hugs you back. You knew he wasn’t annoyed tho. He loved you as much as you loved him

“It’s not a big deal-“ “Yes it is Dami! Now tell me everything!”

“You’re as annoying as Grayson when he found out”

“So everyone already knew but me?!- oh! my poor heart!”

———————————————————————————

The next time Jon came over was for a sleepover.

_________________________________________

There was a knock on the door. You were the closest to the door so you went to open it.

There was Jon wearing his superman pajamas holding a small plushie and a blanket, you let him into the Manor and welcome him.

You tell him that Damian is currently showering so he decides to hang out with you in the meantime.

“So how’s school Jon?”

“It’s really good! And everyone is nice and teachers teach well and- lunch is well eateable i guess” he starts rambling but you don’t mind he somehow reminds you of your brothers

“Im glad you like school” “Yeah me too!”

“Jon what are you doing here?” Damian walks into the room wearing his themed pajamas Dick bought for him.

“Oh im just hanging out with [name]! Telling her sbout school and teachers and food and work an-“

“yeah okay we get it Jon let’s go we have things to do” Damian grabs Jon’s hand and drags him to his room

“Bye [name]!” He frantically waves his hand goodbye.

———————————————————————————

“Your sister is really nice Damian! I really like her!”

“Mhm”

“Why didn’t you tell me like ever you had a sister! We could share sisters?!- i mean i don’t have one but yeah why don’t you share?”

“Share? What?- No.”

“No what?”

“I am not sharing my sister Jon.”

“Why not?!” Jon pouts

“She is my sister get one yourself!”

“Sharing is caring!”

“I don’t care for you”.

“So not true! We are BFF’s”

———————————————————————————

The next time he comes over to the Wayne Manor he brings you a small gift

———————————————————————————

“Hello [name]! I made this for you!” He gives you a small bracelet that said ‘Sis KW’.

“What does Sis KW mean Jon?”

“It mean Sister Kent Wayne!”

“Oh?- That’s really cute Jon! Did you make it yourself?”

“Yes i did” he says seeming really proud of his creation.

“Sister Kent Wayne?!” Damian grabs the bracelet “Jon! she is my sister! Not yours you idiot!

“Damian don’t be rude! I already have 4 brothers 1 more wouldn’t make a big difference!.” Grabs the bracelet back. “Its a nice gesture. Thank you Jon i’ll definitely wear it.”

Jon smiles “Thanks [name] you’re the best!.”

“Jon . A word.”

———————————————————————————

“You can’t give my sister a bracelet! And even less one that says Sister Kent Wayne! And you dare to put the W of Wayne on the second place! After Kent?!”

“Why not? It’s not like it says [name] Kent! I added Wayne there!”

“Because she is not your sister!”

“Three words! IDC!”

“Those are letters!”

“IDC!”

———————————————————————————

Reposts, comments and likes are appreciated!

Requests are open!

Masterlist

Part 2

———————————————————————————

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mixingandmelting · 6 months ago

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Can you please write Damian and Jon innocently crushing on reader who has same powers as scarlet witch? Batman found her and decided to join her in batfam. When he introduced her to Jon and Damian (as they are same age) they started to crush on her.

On day one, they didn’t expect much where Damian was expressing his typical criticisms of what his father possibly saw in you while Jon, having inherited the “cheerful and friendly” gene of the Kents, was trying to make small talk with you. Despite being meek and shy, you had blown them away when you revealed your current skills in magic. The Supersons were rendered speechless from the mini show-and-tell where you showed your various skills in witchcraft. It was as if they weren’t on-guard already having Batman fill them in prior about your powers and your potential of becoming a Nexus being. Since then, their feelings had developed overtime, from best friends to realizing they had a crush on you.

Just because they have a crush, though, on you doesn't mean everything changed. Simply take everything the two boys already had and ramp it up ten-fold. They’re constantly quipping and jabbing at each other, nudging, punching, and kicking literally right behind your back when the three of you are hanging out and walking. It also happens during missions, where it had jeopardized missions time to time as they vie for your attention; Damian displaying his intellects and tech while Jon showcases his powers as a half- Krpytonian. When you’re out of ear shot or when the duo are the only ones for the day, most of the time is spent with one of them trying to one-up the other. Jon brags how he’s able to physically stay next to you the most with his abilities that defies common-sense and the law of gravity. Damian gloats he’s the one you spend the most time with considering the fact you’re living with him at the manor.

Ironically, having the same crush allows them to be completely in-sync. They never once talked, not even sharing a single word, when it comes to being overprotective. They’re already coordinating on-spot when they feel you and your well-being is being threatened. Damian in-charge of being the guard dog at home, where he doesn’t allow Dick, Jason, or Tim to get close to you, nonetheless sit next to you. He’s heard the rumors and read the files on Dick and Jason’s infamous rendez-vous with multiple ladies. As for Tim, it’s simply from him disliking the other. When it’s the three of you, it’s Jon’s job to distract you while Damian gets to work and makes anyone who seems suspicious to back-off through all means without letting you notice. Jon would randomly point at something so you wouldn’t see the glare and words Damian mouths to the offending party as both worked to make sure they don’t get any more rivals.

During the one time when Batman was brainstorming with Superman who to call to help you hone your skills, they didn’t notice their sons walking past them and slowly scan the lists of names they had written so far. The world’s finest had faced many threats before but they have never felt so much fear and eeriness when the boys gave their blood-related fathers a look after loud squeaking echoes in the Batcave from the force exerted on the red marker used to draw a large X over John Constantine’s name. Little did the two men knew at that moment they were to be merely the first victims when out of nowhere, their sons appeared at the Watchtower. Forget about scolding them for eavesdropping on the Justice League’s conversation, the two vigilantes along with Nightwing, who had to get shaken out of his state of shock, were focused on stopping their respective child from further scaring the Flash into drilling through the floor from vibrating on the same spot. And it was all over the joke of his son Jai to become a vigilante pair with you just like Beast Boy and Raven.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #jonathan kent #jon kent x reader #jon kent

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sleepingdiaryzzz · 5 months ago

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ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ɪᴛ...ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ♥︎

ᴊᴏɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

platonic, ig? Jon is 10 while you're 18+ in this LMAO in which Jon has a crush on you but you, despite being a 18+ year old ahh vigilante is oblivious to all of it. Not a yandere content, jst chill rn

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

The Kent farm always felt like a second home to you. The golden fields stretched endlessly, kissed by the late afternoon sun, and the gentle hum of the wind was a melody you had grown fond of over the years. It wasn’t uncommon for you to find yourself here, sitting on the porch with Lois and Clark, sharing laughter and stories about the League, or helping Jon with his homework at the kitchen table.

Jon had always been a sweet boy—bright, cheerful, and endlessly curious. You had known him since he was a wobbly infant, drooling on your shoulder as you cradled him. You remembered the way he giggled when you’d tickle his tiny toes or sing lullabies softly enough to lull him to sleep. Those memories made your heart swell with affection for him, even now that he was ten years old and growing faster than the crops in the fields.

But lately, something about Jon had changed.

“Y/N, are you staying for dinner?” Jon’s voice piped up from the living room, where he sat cross-legged on the carpet, pretending to read a book. His eyes, however, were fixed on you like you were the most fascinating story in the world.

You glanced up from the kitchen counter, where you were helping Lois chop vegetables for the evening meal. “If it’s okay with your mom and dad, sure. I don’t want to impose.”

Jon’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “You’re not imposing! You can stay as long as you want!”

Lois, standing beside you with a knowing smirk, muttered under her breath, “He’d probably ask you to move in if he thought you’d say yes.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He’s just being polite, Lois. He’s such a thoughtful kid.”

Lois froze mid-chop, her knife hovering above the cutting board. She turned to look at you, arching a brow. “Thoughtful, huh? Y/N, sweetheart, I love you, but you’re dense”

You frowned, tilting your head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Jon likes you,” she said bluntly, the words hanging in the air like the stillness before a storm.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. Then you laughed, the sound light and airy, brushing away the tension Lois was trying to create. “Of course, he does. I’ve known him his whole life. We’re close.”

Lois groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, Y/N. He likes you. As in, he has a crush on you.”

Your laughter faltered, replaced by a puzzled expression. “Lois, come on. He’s just a little boy. He’s sweet and affectionate—that’s all it is. Kids are like that.”

Lois stared at you, her lips pressing into a thin line as she fought the urge to bang her head against the counter. “Right. Sure. Just a sweet little boy. Nothing else.” She shook her head and muttered something about needing a Pulitzer for dealing with this level of obliviousness.

Meanwhile, Jon, who had overheard the entire exchange from his spot in the living room, felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He buried his face in his book, hoping the ground would swallow him whole.

The truth was, Jon’s crush on you wasn’t just a passing whim. To him, you were the most incredible person in the world. You were strong, kind, and effortlessly cool. He’d seen you fight alongside his dad and the Justice League, holding your own with a grace that made his young heart race. But it wasn’t just your power that captivated him—it was the way you smiled, the way your laughter filled the room, and the way you always treated him like he mattered.

When you were around, Jon felt like the most important person in the world. And he wanted to be worthy of you.

Clark, ever perceptive, tried to broach the subject later that evening while you sipped tea on the porch swing. The sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, and the air was thick with the scent of freshly tilled earth.

“You know, Jon talks about you a lot,” Clark began, leaning against the porch railing with an easy smile.

You looked up from your mug, your lips curving into a soft smile. “Does he? That’s sweet. He’s such a bright kid—always curious about everything.”

Clark nodded, his smile faltering slightly. “He looks up to you, you know. You’re a big part of his life.”

Your heart swelled with warmth at the thought. “I love that kid, Clark. He’s like a little brother to me.”

Clark hesitated, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “Right, but maybe he sees you as...more than that.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “Clark, he’s ten. Kids get attached to people they admire—it’s normal. He’s just a kind-hearted little boy.”

Before Clark could say more, Lois stepped onto the porch, her arms crossed and her eyes filled with exasperation. “For the love of God, Clark, give it up. She’s as clueless as you were when we started dating.”

Clark straightened, looking mildly offended. “I wasn’t that clueless.”

Lois snorted. “You didn’t even realize I was flirting with you until I spelled it out.”

As they bickered, you sipped your tea, completely oblivious to Jon peeking through the screen door, his heart sinking with every passing second.

Jon decided that if words weren’t enough to make you notice, he’d have to try harder. Maybe he’d write you a poem, something that captured how he felt when you smiled at him. Or he could bake you a cake, like the ones he saw on TV shows, with “You’re amazing” written in frosting.

But for now, all he could do was watch you, his young heart beating wildly every time you glanced his way. To Jon, you were a constellation in human form, shining brighter than any star in the sky. You were the one who made the world feel magical, who turned ordinary moments into memories he wanted to keep forever.

When you smiled at him later that evening, ruffling his hair affectionately, Jon felt like he could fly without his powers.

“You’re going to grow up to be such an amazing man, Jon,” you said warmly. “The world’s lucky to have you.”

Jon swallowed hard, his cheeks turning pink. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Lois, watching from the kitchen, slapped a hand over her face. “This is painful to watch,” she muttered to Clark.

“Give it time,” Clark said, though even he looked concerned about how long it might take for you to catch on.

And so, the cycle continued. Jon adored you, wearing his heart on his sleeve, while you remained blissfully unaware. To you, he was just a sweet kid you’d known forever. To him, you were everything.

But Jon was nothing if not determined. One day, he promised himself, he’d make you see. For now, though, he was content to sit by your side, basking in your presence, while his dreams of the future danced in his young mind like fireflies in the twilight.

Jon n you fr:

#what'd u guys think of my new look😏#😻– one shot #jon x reader #jon kent #jon kent x reader #yandere superboy x reader #superboy x reader #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #dc x reader #superman x reader #yandere dc

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shortnsweetsposts · 8 months ago

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Damian: Prince, your size nor your mouth intimidate me.

Jon: wat

Wonder!reader: Pardon me?

Damian: “Pardon me?” Oh, don't we get posh?

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 10 months ago

Text

The Lost Condom

Synopsis: You were in the middle of a spicy time with your boyfriend, when something odd happened: the condom disappeared. Inside. Of. You.

The solution? Go to the hospital.

The problem? Your family didn't know about your relationship.

Pairing: Jon Kent X Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Only mention and slight description of genitals and sex, but nothing too explicit; All characters are aged up of course; English isn't my 1st language.

Word count: 1,8k.

Requested? Nah.

Extra notes: This isn't an original idea of mine, it's based on a real life story someone told me. Also the family finding out scene was inspired by this fanfic from @dccomicsimagines and this scene from Megamind. Also, eventually I will work on the asks waiting for me I swear 😭

General masterlist

So… You were in the middle of… Having fun… With your boyfriend… When suddenly, he said something that really confused you.

— Hmm… Babe… Where’s the condom? — Your head snapped back to look at him, since you were on all fours.

— Where's the ‘what’? — Your eyes were wide, unconsciously. Jon was blushing intensely, looking from your eyes to your entrance. He didn't know how to explain.

— I-I-I put it inside with the condom on, but now it's… Gone! — You narrowed your eyes. You watched him wrap and then enter you, you didn't feel him pull out at any moment, and even if he did, why would he tell you that he pulled out, took the condom off and then put it inside again secretly while you were still going at it?

You were both silent for a few seconds.

— Search for it! — You practically yelled at him, making him scramble to get off of you. You laid with your back down and legs open, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm down and not feel embarrassed. You felt him entering you with his fingers and searching around for minutes, grumbling and getting frustrated. The sensation was good… But you had bigger priorities at hand!

You huffed and changed positions a few times. A pillow underneath your butt, legs up, on all fours. Nothing worked. You even searched around the room and the bed, just to be sure. At some point, you both defeatedly decided it was best you go to the hospital.

The thing is, your relationship was still new, and no one in your family was aware. Lois and Clark already knew and approved, and you thought Cass suspected you were seeing someone, but you hadn't told them yet.

Especially Damian.

You and Jon knew each other years before Damian was even part of the family, since Bruce raised you since your birth — you were the product of one of his affairs, your biological mother didn't want to raise you, but she also didn't want to abort, so she and Bruce agreed that he would have you as soon as you were born — and he's best friend was Clark. Although, you didn't see each other much back then. It was after the Supersons became a team and besties that he started frequenting the manor more. You always had a childhood crush on each other — Jon thought you were beautiful and nice, and you thought he was cute and sweet, very different from the gross and rude boys from your school. —. Until you were each other's first kiss, then years later, first relationship, and first time. Of course, all in secret from Damian. The older family members only knew about your crush because of your physical language, but since you grew older and learned to hide, they assumed it was just a childish crush from the past.

Lois and Clark knew and approved, but they also always reminded you that you needed to tell Bruce soon, or at least Alfred, especially after you started being sexually active.

Unfortunately, the day came. Yes, you and Jon were old enough to have sex, but too young to be mature and brave enough to go to the hospital by yourselves. Lois was in another country for work, Clark was in the Watchtower in a League meeting, your dad was there too. Leaving the 2nd best option: Alfred — the best would be Lois, then Alfred, Clark, Cass, and then you would have to discuss which one of your other family members would it be.

Since you were in Metropolis — again, no one knew. More privacy wink wink —, Jon flew you back to Gotham, and you both almost cheered when you realized you were completely home alone, except for Alfred, of course.

Poor Alfred knew something was up when you suddenly were back from your “shopping trip”, with messy hair and clothes, red face and Superboy looking almost sick. He released a long sigh.

— Mx/Miss/Master (Y/N). Young Mr. Kent… — You cleared your throat.

— Alfred… We need help…

After you explained everything, Alfred looked ten years older. He didn't comment on anything, but his face showed how unimpressed he was. He just gestured for you to follow him to the garage, took the keys and started driving.

— Let me warn Master Bruce while we are-

— NO! — You yelled, started. He looked at you through the rearview mirror disapprovingly.

— Should I remind you that he will see the hospital bill and go after the truth? — You bit your lip.

— No, I know that. Just… Can't we pay on cash? — You smiled at him hopefully and nervously, but it was more like a grimace. Alfred was silent. You groaned. — I will tell him okay! Tonight! — Jon’s eyes snapped to yours, wide. — Relax! You're not gonna die!

— Yeah, until Damian whips out a kryptonite sword… — He groaned, hiding his burning face in your neck. You huffed, now wasn't time for him to be adorable.

— He doesn't have a kryptonite sword. Dad didn't let him do it. He would have to build it first. That would give him enough time to calm down. — Jon looked at you, indignant. Alfred cleared his throat.

— While we're there, I can't make any promises that if your father asks, I will hide the truth. He will know. — You and your boyfriend groaned, rubbing your faces with your hands.

— Yes, Alfred, I know…

Two hours later, you were finally laid down in position for the doctor to begin the procedure. Since if wasn't anything serious, you were on the emergency and there was only a curtain separating you from the rest of the patients outside. Alfred was sitting just outside, waiting, while Jon was standing by your side, holding your hand, as if you were about to give birth. The doctor was amused by your story, and her jokes helped you calm down.

She searched around you for a few minutes, the instrument she was using inside you being a little uncomfortable. Jon was silently horrified when he saw, you were startled too, but maintained the composure.

— AHA! Found it! It was really deep inside, almost on your cervix! — When she pulled out the condom, you both let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding.

You quickly put your clothes on again, you and Jon chatting as everything seemed lighter, and then left.

What you didn't know was that when Bruce got home and you and Alfred weren't there, it made him call, finding out just that you were in the hospital. Alfred refused to say much more than reassure him that it wasn't urgent and that he would soon know, thus he didn't have to crazily drive all the way there. That didn't stop him from alerting all your siblings.

When you got home, your whole family was there.

— Jon?! What're you doing here? — Alfred kept a straight face. Wow, he really wasn't going to help.

— Hmmm... — Jon subtly and subconsciously hid behind you. You shifted from one foot to another. Damian got up with a threatening scowl. You just came from the hospital. With a kryptonian.

— Kent! If you hurt my sibling I will-

— I didn't! — Jon almost yelled, then covered his face with his hands.

— Then, what is happenning here? — Bruce got up with a raised brow, analyzing the situation.

You thought for a moment. You either told them now and made things easier, or you spent all the way to dinner with them bothering you to tell. You could take it, Jon couldn't.

You took a deep breath.

— JonandIwerehavingsexwhenthecondomdisappearedinsideofmewecouldn'tfinditanywheresoweaskedAlfredforhelpandwenttothehospital.

They blinked.

— … What?

You huffed.

— Jon and I were having sex, when the condom disappeared inside of me. We couldn't find it anywhere, so we asked Alfred for help and went to the hospital. — You said, slower this time, although uma lower, more abashed tone.

Silence.

— … But… It was stuck inside? Weren't you wet, though…? — Tim's analysis broke the silence.

— SEX?! — Dick and Jason exclaimed.

— YOU WERE HAVING SEX WITH MY SIBLING?!

— Knew it. — Cass smiled and nodded, proud of herself.

Bruce heaved a sigh and sat down again.

— I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS! — Damian threw Tim's coffee mug in your direction and Jon zoomed in front of you. The mug broke. Jon had a sheepish expression.

— Tim, go grab kryptonite. — Jason ordered and got up, walking toward the hidden compartment in the shelf where he kept his guns. Dick held him back while Damian threw a flower vase at Jon.

— No! Don't do that, Tim. — Dick ordered back. Tim shook his head.

— I wasn't going to anyway… — He mumbled. Damian threw the center table.

— YOU ACTED BEHIND MY BACK! YOU TRAITOR! YOU- OUCH! PENNYWORTH STOP! — Alfred tutted, pinching his ear.

— I'm sure civilized conversations don't involve breaking the forniture. — Alfred shot a pointed look at Bruce. — Master Bruce! Say something! — Your dad just kept gazing at you and your boyfriend.

Cass sighed, stepping toward Bruce and sitting beside him.

— (Y/N)’s happy. He’s good. They're careful. — Bruce nodded, finally showing some reaction and looking pleased. Jason stopped struggling against Dick and looked at you.

— I don't care. I'm going to kill him. — Damian growled, starting to pace around the room in anger. Jon silently sighed in relief that Damian kept his distance by being on the other side of the room, the couch and the whole family serving as a barrier. You stepped forward.

— It's not casual. We've been together for almost two months now. — Everyone but Alfred and Cass gasped. Damian burned holes in Jon’s head with his eyes and your dad looked at you, masking his mix of emotions.

Cass tsk.

— So clueless. Many signs. — She shook her head.

— (Y/N), why didn't you tell us before? — Dick asked carefully, walking in your direction and stopping in front of you. Jon fiddled behind you. You shrugged.

— Didn't want to deal with you all while we were just starting things. Especially if it didn't work out.

— When were you planning to tell us? — You pouted.

— I don't know… In a month or two? You guys probably would find out by yourselves. — You shrugged.

— You've been sneaking out a lot… — Tim spoke up for the second time, catching everyone’s attention. He was fiddling with his laptop, likely doing his own investigation. The ones closest to Tim looked from the monitor to you again.

— When did you go to Metropolis?! — Jason exclaimed, indignantly.

— Hehe…

Damian growled.

— So that's why you've been ditching me?! — Damian pointed a finger at Jon, who scratched the back of his head.

— Surprise...? — Jon weakly sang the word.

Bruce cleared his throat.

— So that's why Clark’s been acting like he was happy he knew something I didn't… — He got up and pointed at you. — No more sneaking out. Ask permission before going anywhere. — You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. — Either that or you're grounded. — You pursed your lips and nodded in defeat. — Now we will talk about birth control…

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon

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criibibi · 9 months ago

Text

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 1 - Home Sick

Okay, let’s start this from the top. Once upon a time and all that shit.

You had somehow, some way, ended up stranded in another universe when you were going toe-to-toe with the Spot that (unfortunately) Mile’s apparently created (unintentionally). Got it? Good.

Now the question is how you got stranded in another universe while fighting the Spot is another shebang that you do not know, and frankly, not your top priority as of right now.

Your mission is finding a way to power your web-watch (no offense but the gizmo name sucks), and either use it to find Miguel, the spider-society, or your very own earth. You honestly weren’t choosy on which option you land, as long as you safely made it out alive and unscathed.

Speaking of unscathed, which in fact you are not, you quietly swung across many buildings, in the shadows, making sure you were hard to spot. Your dark spider suit being perfect for night patrol is a blessing for the camouflage it provides you in this god forsaken gloomy city.

Now, to get back on track, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to process that you have basically been thrown into a world where in your universe is all but fiction.

Have you kept up with the comics?

No, of course not. After Aunt May’s passing, you honestly gave up everything and just solely dedicated yourself into fighting crime. Well, you know some things, since Peter was also a mega comic nerd.

He would go on for hours and hours and hours about Batman and his kids (adopted and biological) and whatnot. You didn’t mind, since spending time with a talkative Peter was better than being in your own headspace. If you recall the latest one to come under Batman’s wing was someone named Duke? Well, that’s as far as you remember.

Regardless, now you're looting someone’s clothing wire. Picking out a thick gray turtleneck and black leggings (thank god) you don them over your suit, making sure nothing was visible. Now the issue is your footwear. Maybe you can get away with it?

Taking off the mask you were able to stuff it inside your bra (extra pocket, am I right?) while your gloves were hidden among your sleeves. Making sure nothing was out of place you pulled out the wallets of the two petty criminals, counting the money.

“Four-fifty, not bad.” Though you don’t condone your actions, you are in a precarious situation at the moment. Oh well. Tossing one of the wallets away (making sure not to touch it with your fingers), you also placed it inside your bra for safe keeping.

Maybe this would be enough for a motel? How expensive- or cheap are those in Gotham? With how often crimes occur, it shouldn’t be that expensive, right? Regardless, first things first, find a place to eat, find out the date and then a place to stay. Shouldn't be too hard.

Quietly climbing down the side of a complex building, you made sure the coast was clear before heading out. The lack of a jacket made you feel very vulnerable and exposed. Head down and hands to your sides, the cool breeze of the city causes shivers down your spine. “This fucking sucks.” you mumbled, making sure to avoid gothamites as much as possible.

No time to gawk at your environment when you’re so out of place. You honestly just kept walking around, hearing police sirens and the occasional cop car driving by while you try to not lose your goddamn mind.

Walking around, using back streets and alleys you shiver as the cold nips at your face. It’s not that you’re sensitive to cold, it’s just that you can’t afford to get sick here. In a world where you don’t exist.

“Wait a minute…” thinking back on something, it’s true that you don’t exist here. But that doesn’t mean that a you- doesn’t exist. Maybe somehow there is a version of you or spider-woman here. A far reach but hey, just hours ago, this was all fictional to you. But something worth looking into.

With a heavy sigh you walk inside an alley, looking up to gauge the time to see- oh, what’s that? Another clothing line! And guess what? It has more clothes to loot! Score! Don’t mind if I do! Finders keepers baby!

And you thought your spider luck was ass.

Discreetly looking around to see for any cameras that can potentially identify you only to come out flat. Perfect. Using the fire escape you parkour to snag a black oversized zip up sweater.

This would be perfect in covering you even further (and now you have pockets for your mask) and making your figure harder to identify. Now you can start acting like a true gothamite.

With a pep in your step, you exit the alleyway.

Spotting a diner up ahead, settling yourself inside you order your drink of choice and a bagel just to have something to entertain yourself while you calm your nerves.

Sitting down next to a window, taking slow sips and bites from your meal you subtly look around (making a point of subtly ignoring the gaze of the cashier). It seems to be late afternoon, heading to night. Not good, not good at all.

Besides finding a place to stay, you glance at your wrist, the web watch looking pretty obvious and suspicious out there in the open on your wrist. But, without it, you could perish in this foreign world. Should you pull a Hobie Brown and create a new watch from scratch? No, you don’t have the time, tools, or luxury. Thank god for the hoodie covering it up.

Right now, staying on task is essential. A job, maybe? With what credentials? Hell, you don’t even have an ID. Maybe a fake one? Who would do such a thing for a reasonable price and isn’t a criminal? Another note, you need supplies, enough to build web shooters and the cartridge. Unlike other spiders, you had the ability to shoot webs from your wrist, gross. But (with Peter’s intellect) you ended up also creating webs on your own in case yours fails. And it has- a lot both in comical and crucial times. Peter wouldn’t let you live anything down (god you miss him).

And being in a new world and everything going on, the last thing you need is a web block because of the high anxiety and stress this place is already giving you. You’d rather be safe than sorry. Now, how to get supplies? Stealing them seems easier than working for it. You just don’t have the time. How were you going to steal them, and from where? Who the fuck knows. Probably from a college science room or something.

In order to do even that, you need to find out the layout and what not of this place. So maybe the best place to start is the library? Doesn’t someone from Batman’s little possie work at the library? Can you risk that? Probably.

Fuck, this was going to be harder than it looks. No phone, basically no money (not counting the one you stole from criminals), no ID (or insurance), no place to stay, no allies, ya got nothing. Zip, zero, nada.

You feel so lost and alone, so vulnerable. And the thoughts in your head are slowly getting louder and louder. Eating away at your insecurities and feelings. God, you’re starting to get homesick. Will you make it back? Will you find a way back home? Is anyone even looking for you?

Last thing you recall was fighting the Spot with Miles, Hobie, Gwen and Pavitr. You remember hopping onto Spot’s back while he was absorbing but then he poof and you along with him. Everything went black for you and then you landed here in this city (ungracefully might I add).

You just want to go home…even if it’s lonely without Uncle Ben, Aunt May and Peter Parker.

You really have nothing, rock bottom, baby. But then again, the only place to go is up, right?

Sighing you finished your drink and bagel before leaving the diner, making sure to look at the clock above the exit, and aimlessly walking around. Would they let you in one of those shelters? Are those even a thing? Probably, maybe.

Couldn’t hurt to try. Buuuuut, then again, you need the privacy, so maybe the shelter was a no go. Okay, perfect, back to square fucking zero. A cheap and possibly dangerous motel it is!

Hopefully your spider luck doesn’t fuck you over. You’re honestly thankful for not coming across any batsonas and whatnot. And you were able to get clothes so you say you’re two for two.

After looking around for some time, emphasis on some, you managed to find a motel and get yourself settled. No ID required, just cash, and you internally sobbed at the remaining funds you had left. You really will need a job or a sustainable income.

“Are underground rings still a thing? Is it a thing here?” You mumbled, discarding your stolen clothes before fiddling with your watch until its screen flashes before abruptly turning dark again. “Well now, how fucked am I?” A deep sigh resonated in the empty room. Hopefully while it turned on, Miguel would somehow by some god given miracle (or your spider luck but don’t bank on it) that he received at least a signal, no matter how microscopic it is.

You had to get home. At all costs. This place isn’t your home. It’s not like you should play by the rules. But, Ben, May, and Peter would be so disappointed in you if you break laws just to return to your home universe. And if you’re being truthful, it wouldn’t sit right with you either…

But Miles needs you.

If this world doesn’t have a- you in it, then you aren’t needed here. So you shouldn’t waste time twiddling your thumbs. Maybe you really do need to break into a computer lab to see what’s up with your watch or scavenge for parts. Hobie built it with parts from Miguel’s earth. Meaning, you can too, with whatever scraps you can find.

You’ll prioritize your watch first, then this city. It’s unfortunate, but you really have to get back home, and you can’t let your feelings get in the way and distract you.

Maybe you should call it a night? Figure things out in the morning? A yawn takes over your thoughts. “Yea, sleep sounds really good right now.”

These problems are for tomorrow’s you. For now, you’ll catch some Zzz’s and flesh out a detailed plan on how to get back home.

You’re banking on hacking a computer at the library despite the risks. Shooting a web at the door to prevent any possible and/or unwanted inconveniences because let’s be honest, trust no one but yourself, especially in this bat(ha)shit crazy world, better to be safe than sorry. You need your sanity to fix or at least charge your watch in order to get back home.

“Ben, May, Peter- give me strength.” and into dreamland you go.

“Hey B, come look at this.” A female voice spoke out, catching the attention of the adult in the cave. “I got something to show you. I got a trace of a disruption- but it happened quickly and only once.”

“Where.” A gruff and stern voice asked.

“Around the East End.”

“I’ll let Selina know.”

“Should I get someone to look into it?”

“No, I’ll do it myself.”

With that, silence once again enveloped the Bat cave as Batman stepped out.

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I'll be honest, I have no outline of where I want this story to go, this is just brainrot hour for me. Less go. A very high chance this will soon turn into somewhat of "yandere" but it's mostly just them being "possessive" honestly. Slooow burn. This was the last thing i had typed up, and I have no clue where I will drive this story, oops.

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