One Shots (Damian Wayne x reader)

My Decision

Trigger warning :  a sensitive subject is the main subject of this one shot. 

Feel free to leave at any time

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It clattered in the sink, my hands shaking too much to get a better grip on it as my mind had frozen. It couldn't be. It couldn't! Not now. I stumbled back and leaned on the tiled wall before slipping down and curling my body into a tight ball. Tears were burning the corner of my eyes. It couldn't be. We had been careful. I closed my eyes so tightly it's painful. A choked sob got stuck into my throat, fingers digging in the skin of my arms.

I just wanted to make sure. I thought I already knew the answer to my silly, so silly question. But I was so wrong. I didn't know how it was possible. We had been careful. I had been careful. I didn't want to... I didn't want...

A knock at the door stopped me from spiralling down my darkest thoughts. I raised my head, blinking at the harsh white light of the bathroom. I could finally feel the room around me, the cold tiles under me, the smell of soap and the bitter taste in my mouth.

"Y/n?" The voice was soft, behind the door, wondering prudently, ready to withdraw at any signs I might give to ask for space, for time.

I reached for the toilet paper and wiped snot and tears I had not realised had been running on my face. Sniffing and with shaky limbs, I stood up and flushed the toilet paper down the toilet. I felt nauseous. I felt sick. Tears were already threatening to fall again as I stepped toward the door. I leaned my head against it, breathing heavily.

"Y/n? Can I come in?" still soft but stained by worry.

My voice was lost, out of reach so I just opened the door. Damian appeared from behind, his arms stretching to catch me but stopping an inch away, as he realised the state I was in.

"Y/n." he uttered quietly. His eyes went to the sink and to the stick inside.

Two blue stripes.

One word.

"Oh", his eyes went back to mine. It was enough for me to break down into tears. My knees buckled under me and I would have hit the ground if he didn't catch me into his arms. With gentle moves, he helped me to my bed and laid down next to me, holding me as I cried and sobbed, his hands brushing my hair and whipping my tears away. His voice whispered soft words into my ears but I was deafened by my cries and thoughts.

Minutes or hours passed before my sobs turned into small sniffs and hiccups. My tears had dried, their trail shining on my reddened cheeks. I felt completely drained, boneless.

My ear was pressed against Damian's chest, his heart beating calmly. His fingers were playing with a strand of my hair.

I raised my head and his deep green eyes met mine. He leaned over and his lips brushed my forehead.

"I'm pregnant." I said, the words heavy on my tongue. But it was also a relief to utter those words at loud. His arms tightened around my waist.

"I'm pregnant." I repeated. "And ... I'm not.." I gulped. "I'm not ready."

"You're not alone in this Y/n. I'm here. We can get ready for it together." he answered.

I shook my head. I sat down on the bed and he followed my move so we could face each other.

"No, Damian. I'm not ready. And I'm not sure I will ever be." His hand found mine and he intertwined our fingers. "I know that when we started dating, I told you that I was no mother. And I've accepted the fact that I might change my mind someday but also that I might never change my mind." I said, my breath painful in my throat.