#but please don't I actually do appreciate the support

[myceliacrochet]

Itaf and Mazen's love is beautiful, I love to see it. We are Facebook friends. She said the other day that each donation and kind word is a rose we place on her path. May Itaf and Mazen live happily ever after.

The words of her GoFundMe:

"Hello!

"I am Itaf and this is my husband Mazen.

"My husband is everything to me, and I am his everything... and we are being starved. We want to be together, and we want to see each other smile again in peace. Our love is unique to us, we don't want to lose each other. We don't want a world where one of us doesn't exist anymore. We desire the end of this constant anxiety, hunger and danger. Our love is strong and we want to connect with the whole world, we have so much to give back. Please feel your power to support us through the tiniest contribution, so we can leave Gaza eventually for freedom and peace.

"What happened to us?

"My husband and I live in Rafah, Gaza under harsh conditions. For more than five months, we have been under bombardment, war and fire.

"My house was severely damaged due to the bombing that was next to me. The shrapnel fell right on top of us. We narrowly escaped death. Many of my neighbors and relatives died because of these attacks. So we couldn't stay and had to relocate. Our new "house" is mainly made of tin sheets (see picture below).

"We are now in severe hardship, hunger and thirst. We eat grasses, animal feed and drink polluted salt water to survive. There is no water, food, or treatment. Even though the little we have, every morning if possible, we feed the cats and make sure they got something as well.

"We want to escape by all means. Please support us get out of here. You can make a difference even by donating a coffees worth.

"Helping us means that you give us life and live safely. Help, to get us out of this burning hell here. The bombs are dropping mercilessly on our land.

"Every minute makes a difference. Every little amount counts. A small amount that doesn't hurt you, can make the biggest difference to us... you personally don't have to carry a huge burden, we are asking for a collective deed, when many people give a little, we will make it. Thank you so much.

"❤️

"---

"Adressing your commonly asked questions:

"1. Can we trust this?

"Our friend in Germany has started this campaing for us, because we in Palestine are not allowed to do a GoFundme. Our friend will make sure the money reaches us safely via Western Union. Thank you so much for helping and asking!

"2. It feels like a losing battle

"That's true for every time you give a Dollar to a homeless person as well, and you still do it from time to time, so they can get something to eat today.

"In our case, we are trapped in the real life squid-games or hunger games. You can actually help a ton by giving 1$ and spread the news! We are still alive... the battle is not lost yet.

"3. Focus on two people? Then what about all the other people?

"We love this thought, because it shows so much compassion, but it will cause hopelessness and inaction. You are here now, so if you want to help, here is a good place to start. Just even 1$ and spreading this campaign on social media to reach our goal will make the biggest difference. Thank you!

"(If you want to help furthermore, we'd greatly appreciate if you consider donating to the UNWRA Gaza relief fund as well).

"This is a scene from my diary of harsh conditions. It was a very good day I bought half a kilo of rice, cooked it, and now I'm done. I was trying to buy a kilo of sugar but it is insanely high priced.

"4. Why this specific amount and does it really help?

"The little bit of food we can still get here got extremely expensive, so even just staying will be costly if we want to stay alive. The costs of coordination at the Rafah crossing will go through the Egyptian Hala company. One of the burdens we have to carry is non-reliable bureaucracy, the cost is $5,000 - $10,000 per person. There are road and crossing fees from Rafah to Cairo of approximately $100 per person. I do not know how much it costs to fly from Egypt to the host country where Carolin invited us to. So our aim is to get $20.000 (which translates to 22.500 Euros incl. the GoFundMe fee) to at least get the Rafah crossing for sure. If we have extra we can afford to get to our host country as well, which would be the absolute dream - but our first goal is to get out.

"5. How do I stay informed?

"I post my Inside-Gaza diary on Facebook and Instagram, please feel free to follow me there, I will post updates!

"Follow my diary on Facebook

"Follow me on Instagram

"Furthermore Carolin will help keep this Fundraiser up to date!

"6. Why should I help?

"Because we can only succeed when everybody gives a little bit.

"This is our current home, thanks for your help even for the slightest bit! Greetings from Gaza...

"7. How often is the money being sent?

"The donations are being transferred on a regular basis, so that they are with Itaf and Mazen as soon as possible.

"8. How is the money being used?

"It will be used to evacuate eventually and in the meantime to buy food and water, to survive the harsh conditions.

"--

"Thank you for taking the time to read this and for considering supporting our cause."

Donate:

https://gofund.me/79bcce1f

Vetting:

I don't know of any vetting for Itaf and Mazen. I just know them on Facebook, and the RIS is clean on all the pictures in this post.

@acehimbo @butchfeygela @bisexualspeed @butchjeremyfragrance @k1teko @ohjinyoung @revoltingcocks @yampulp @eraserheadbaby2 @nocturnal-notes @rememberthelaughter2016 @parfaithaven @gryficowa @tittyinfinity @6o3o9 @fantasykiri5 @sadbiooi @battleofthegarys @illpunchababy @alliterate-accident @flashingdaydreams @s7ar-sai10r @tallytals @monotremesoup @dlxxv-vetted-donations @ilikefoodandyourmom @i-named-my-cactus-albert @pogasssm @thethrillbasisindeterminable @agremlinthing @huzni @bagofbonesmp3 @hussyknee @divorce-enjoyer @treffyfrinn @effen-draws @thatsonehellofabird @neechees @queerpotat @queerstudiesnatural @maester-cressen @lampsbian @freddyfazbearboyfriend

[kimbapchan]

Hi!

I'm not going to be the first nor last to say this, but your comics ARE enough! More than enough in fact!!

You don't have an obligation to share your gorgeous art and creativity, but you chose to and so many of us are so appreciative that fact alone! Your reverse AUs are wonderfully done and while I can't speak for everyone, I am always patiently excited to see what you have planned for the next installment you choose to share. There's no rush in it nor pressure for you to go outside your comfort zone on how you choose to present your art (at least from me and others who share this sentiment).

Please don't let anyone make you feel rushed or discouraged that you aren't doing more. As a fanfic writer, I can understand the want to read more of these AUs in a fanfic form, but it's a whole different medium that would deliver the story very differently than you have already. I quite enjoy how you've presented the stories thus far and I look forward to what you have in store for them next in comic form 💕

You're already doing so much and you should be proud of the work you've done so far 🫶

Oh my gosh thank you so much! You’re incredibly sweet and I really appreciate your words. Thankyou so much for the support and encouragement! 🥹❤️

I definitely look forward to progressing the story of my SVSSS au. We are just at the beginning and barely the surface of the actual plot/meat of the story. I reassures me that you guys support the comic au so far! Knowing there are ppl wiling to wait and read every episode is enough to motivate me to continue in the format i want. So really, thank so much 🥹❤️❤️❤️🤗

[cringefailvox]

where would alastor fit into the staticbelle au, :0 ?

staticbelle au

OKAY IT REALLY DEPENDS BC!! we still don't know exactly why alastor is at the hotel! it could be because he's there on orders from someone else, or he's there to entertain himself, or to manipulate charlie for reasons unknown, or something else entirely—and the reason will really impact whether or not he'd choose to try and get involved with charlie if she was already supported by vox. a lot of his sway over the hotel comes from the fact that it was crumbling into disrepair when he arrived and he fairy godmother'd it into a somewhat functional project, therefore winning him a ton of emotional brownie points with charlie, but he wouldn't have that opportunity at all here because i really don't think there's anything he could offer charlie that vox isn't already providing (or wouldn't be willing to START providing if it meant spiting alastor).

however. presuming instead that alastor is not at the hotel to protect or look after charlie, or help her project succeed (since these would already be satisfied by vox), it'd be fascinating if instead alastor comes back after seven years and immediately antagonizes vox into losing his shit and making charlie go "ooookay! i'm gonna have to put my therapy techniques in action because vox is clearly not over his situationship." and that's how her and alastor meet. i think she knows about the alastor thing but hadn't really seen what the problem was before he came back; everyone in hell has enemies after all, and a little healthy rivalry never hurt anyone, but seeing it in action is totally different. after the third time vox plunges the city into darkness because alastor called him an insecure freak on air she's like umm. we might need to talk about this.

she's super worried about vox because she's never seen him this upset about anything before. vox is relapsing hard into his paranoid-obsessive shit that he'd worked on really hard in the seven years alastor has been away, and now it's all rushing back and threatening to ruin everything he's built—but also, his sorta girlfriend princess independent contractor person (???) is now insisting he try to "make amends" and "practice healthy emotional regulation" and "please stop brooding over your pit of sharks with a bottle of tequila i'm really nervous about you falling in and electrocuting yourself even though i know you're waterproof, come watch a movie with me instead?" and he can't decide whether he resents it or appreciates it (both. it's both).

maybe having charlie around to redirect him and encourage healthier outlets for his anger, unlike how val and vel normally handle his radio demon bullshit, DOES actually get him to calm down a little bit. maybe even enough to reluctantly agree to supervised counseling sessions with alastor, because fucking dammit charlie has gone behind his back to talk to al about repairing their broken friendship and he was so excited, vox, you should've seen him, he practically insisted on having me arrange a meeting, i think he really regrets how things ended between you two and wants to do better, please just give it a chance?? cue the worst couple's counseling session in the universe with vox stiff as a board and shaking with repressed rage in his seat while alastor sips tea demurely across from him and asks oh-so-politely how him and charlie met, and isn't this such a charming little affair, and ooh, redemption? how interesting! charlie is eating this the fuck up, overjoyed at the thought of meeting TWO overlords interested in her plan while vox can't do anything about it but seethe and fantasize about shooting alastor in the face when charlie's back is turned.

this actually sort of turns into vox feeling protective over charlie completely without meaning to, because he knows alastor isn't being genuine, he knows he has ill intentions, and vox has invested too much time and energy and honest commitment into both charlie and her dreams to let fucking alastor destroy it all by taking advantage of her desperate need for validation. only vox gets to capitalize on her daddy issues, dammit. but there's real affection there too, reluctant and uncomfortable as he is with its existence, and it's making it extremely difficult for him to handle alastor's Everything without betraying the fact that he's become emotionally compromised and isn't just looking out for his business interests.

charlie, meanwhile, thinks she's going to get to kill two birds with one stone here: she can help vox get over / assuage a broken relationship that's clearly causing him a lot of distress, and she can rope another influential overlord into endorsing her project, which prods the door open that much further for her to enact real change in hell. but alastor isn't the same kind of monster as vox, and she might be a little in over her head this time—because she just can't stop herself from having faith in people's better natures, even when every indication is pointing the other way. it's a kind of earnest and willful naivete that's like blood in the water to people like alastor and vox. at least she knows—she hopes—vox would hesitate now. she can't really say the same for al. either way, she's going to keep trying, and it's really a race between charlie's ability to infect people with soft mushy friendship emotions by double-bluffing their manipulative plots and alastor's ability to pry people open like clamshells and inflict horrifyingly intimate betrayals on them.

(hint: charlie always wins the long-game. there's only so many times you can sarcastically banter about your feelings over scones with your archrival and your girlfriend supervising before you start actually making breakthroughs and unwillingly understanding each other. charlie has weaponized "ironically committing to the bit too hard" in her favor and it works everyyy time)

[signalhill-if]

Considering Donation Platforms

So with the demo out and the next lead well on its way, I've been thinking a lot about the future of this project and about how to dedicate more of my time to it. The honest truth is, I am a full time student and part time worker and it's difficult maintaining all three at the same time. I want to be as consistent with this game as possible, but I also don't want to sacrifice my marks, and I frankly can't afford to take fewer shifts at work right now.

The solution to this is pretty obvious- starting a Patreon or Ko-fi would allow me to make a bit of extra cash while working on the game, if I'm able to build it up enough. Obviously this is not right around the corner, as I'd like to have a bit of extra content built up by the time I launch either of those, and my primary focus right now is the main game. But I want to talk about those, which platform people generally prefer, and what kind of extra content people are interested in seeing.

Patreon has higher fees and is geared towards long term memberships. I'd be able to offer patrons early access to new updates (which will hopefully be relatively frequent, as progress during development has been pretty fast) and access to a back catalogue of art and side stories. It would also mean I could share NSFW content, like explicit stories or nude pinups, which is a bonus cause I know y'all nasty. But the biggest thing I'm excited for would be offering polls to decide what is worked on next. Because the game will be updated lead-by-lead, that means patrons would be able to directly decide what they see in early access that month.

Ko-fi has lower fees and more breadth of services, so I could use the same platform to offer commissions, sell side stories, and offer memberships for early access. However, Ko-fi doesn't allow explicit sexual content, so no sexy pinups and no sexy stories. Sorry nasty people. And since traditional romance won't exactly be the focus of the game, commissioned writing probably wouldn't be as interesting of an offer for you folks anyway. No polls, either. But the big benefit is that people may be more willing to pay a one time fee to purchase something rather than becoming a patron for a longer period of time.

Yes, I can set up both- but if I'm making content for Patreon, Ko-fi would just be a tip jar for people who don't want to use itch.io! I'm specifically thinking about which platform I want to offer content through.

I originall had a little google form here, but y'know what? I'm probably better off just doing a quick poll.

[miqojak]

.

[the-sera]

My name is Sera, you may not know me but you know my past work behind the scenes here and there, such as the Mass Effect trilogy, Dragon Age, Silent Hills, and many others.

I am an agoraphobic indigenous Kanienʼkehá:ka (Mohawk) mixed lesbian who has fought for several years a worsening health condition that is currently killing me. The point of no return is not that far away. I have spent years exhausting any paths and means to get help, enduring extreme and near endless pain. I have sold all I have, spent every dime to my name. I have received various forms of help over the years in this battle, but I have reached the critical point I have feared all this time. And to make matters worst, the family responsible for inflicting a lifetime of abuse on me is stalking me very heavily online, which has not only exacerbated my agoraphobia, but has also made the efforts to build this harder than I could describe. Know that I share as many details as I can while seeking to avoid undermining my immediate safety, I hope you understand. This post is a highly abridged version of the content in the link, the unabridged and unedited version is available below the Read More cut ❤

If you have been following me for a while, you are familiar with my struggle and saw me talking about it throughout the years. There are no other options or help besides this, besides you. I need your help or I'm going to die, this is the last chance I have left. I'm afraid to my core, I still have a life in front of me, dreams to pursue. If you read this far, I know you may be inclined to share and move on, but I am asking you to pause and think if you have a dollar that could make all the difference. I know it can be troublesome to stop and actually do it, I am asking you to please consider doing it.

If you yourself have a health condition, I salute you for fighting your own battle. Regardless of whether you donate or not, if you read this far, know that you are loved.

A warm thank you to @transmechanicus , the kind soul who made this possible. I would be lost and doomed without your help. Erika did not believe thank yous were necessary, but they are. Attempting to save a human being's life is no small act. Whether it succeeds or fail, no thank yous will ever be enough. Even as the pain consumes my body, I am able to feel hope thanks to this. There are no words invented to express this level of thanks, but if I get to live, I will search for it.

(Please don't put tags on this unless it is to actually talk or comment something. As always, kind words are appreciated.)

My name is Sera, you may not know me but you know my past work behind the scenes here and there, such as the Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age, Silent Hills, and many others.

I am an agoraphobic indigenous Kanienʼkehá:ka (Mohawk) mixed lesbian who has fought for several years a worsening health condition that is currently killing me. The point of no return is not that far away. I have spent years exhausting any paths and means to get help, enduring extreme and near endless pain. I have sold all I have, spent every dime to my name. The system, I feel, is indifferent to my situation. I have received various forms of help over the years in this battle, but I have reached the critical point I have feared all this time. And to make matters worst, the family responsible for inflicting a lifetime of abuse on me is stalking me very heavily online, which has not only exacerbated my agoraphobia, but has also made the efforts to build this harder than I could describe. Know that I share as many details as I can while seeking to avoid undermining my immediate safety, I hope you understand.

If you are reading this, you are one of the few people who can help save my life. A single dollar is enough to make a tremendous difference. There is no other options or source of help besides this, besides you. I need your help or I'm going to die, this is the last chance I have left.

The goal is a series of treatments and challenging surgeries that will remove small metal shards near vital organs and bones in my body. It is categorized as severe internal injuries secondary to a traumatic event. As medical professionals have put it, "the lack of immediate surgical intervention necessitates a comprehensive, multidisciplinary treatment approach aimed at mitigating the risk of disease progression and optimizing long-term outcomes."

My injuries are from a car accident which injured me immensely and took the lives of my two closest friends in the world. This page does not ask for the full amount of the procedures and treatments, since it is a very large sum of money that cannot be reached that quickly. The page only asks for enough to get me started in the process and access proper vital treatments in countries of the european union. Adding time to the clock, giving me a chance to fight this battle and launching an important part of the process towards saving my life.

I know you may be inclined to share and move on, but I am asking you to pause and think if you have a dollar that could make all the difference. You may be but a few clicks away from truly helping someone who desperately needs it. I know it can be troublesome to stop and actually do it, I am asking you to please consider doing it.

If this fails to reach its goal, I will die. I'm afraid and I need your help. I still have a life in front of me, dreams to pursue. If you read this far, you are the only chance I have left. Don't underestimate the difference a dollar can make, your dollar could be the one dollar we come short of. The expenses covered by this amount ranges from the medical consultations, medical treatments, surgeries and, of course, accessing said treatment, reaching the places where I need to go. I will have a true chance at fighting for the remaining amount myself.

As for cheaper alternatives, it is mainly temporary fixes that would not fix the issue and waitlists that I would die waiting on years before my turn comes. This is it, this is the only way I have that provides the care I need, in the timeframe I need it, with a success rate that gives me a chance to live.

Thank you for reading this and for persevering in the brutal system we all live under. If you yourself have a health condition, I salute you for fighting your own battle. May we all make it and may we all have the softest of epilogues. Regardless of whether you donate or not, if you read this far, know that you are loved.

I would like to thank Erika, a dear friend who has made this possible at all. Without her, I would be lost. I would also like to thank immensely Milica, who has been on this journey with me for so many years, almost since the beginning. Her medical knowledge and her kind heart, her support and dedication, have allowed me to survive long enough to get to this point. I would not be here still without her. I would like to thank the amazing and loving Dana, who has been here during the good days as much as the bad days. She has been a beacon preventing me from giving up hope. I would have abandonned before getting to this point had she not been there for me. And thank you to Oli, who has been my champion, it is thanks to his help that I can move around where I need to go. A great support and a great friend. I would like to also thank Bruna, a kind heart who has never failed to cheer me on, even when her life was not perfect, she never stopped cheering and supporting me.

I would also like to thank my tumblr mutuals, you know who you are, those who have been in my DMs offering me your kindness, laughter and support in these dark times. Your help has also saved me more than once. You are true blessings. Thank you for never giving up hope during the days I felt like doing so.

You have all carried the torch during the days I couldn't, and for that, I can never thank you enough. I have lived and survived because of you, your help in every form has made a difference in the world. I am ready to fight for my life, and whether I reach my goal and live, or fail and die, know that none of it was wasted. You have all made me a better person and that is the mark of true love transpiring from one person to the next. Thank you for believing in me when I could not. I love you all.

[astonmartinii]

a case of the cuddle bug | logan sargent social media au

pairing: logan sargent x fem!piastri!reader

someone check his temperature, he's got a serious case of the cuddle bug

author's note: thought we could all use some logan content to get us through the weekend

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 201,445 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: he's not racing :( more time to cuddle :)

view all comments

user1: if i find out that that t-shirt was made by them i may need to be shot in the head

yourusername: sorry to be the bearer of bad news 😕

user2: y/n where do we find a logan?

yourusername: date your brother's best friend - the romance books did NOT lie

logansargent: hard to be too sad when you're around

yourusername: awwwww logie bear 🐻 i love youuuuu

logansargent: i love you too come back to the motorhome the hospitality coffee is not worth it

yourusername: not even if i swipe you a cupcake?

logansargent: okay..... maybe ....

alexalbon: i'm sorry buddy, i promise i'll do us proud

yourusername: yOU BETTER 👹

alexalbon: i'm soRRY are you like a gremlin? did someone spill some water?

yourusername: i'm gonna ignore most of that cause gizmo is cute

logansargent: she loves you really alex

alexalbon: do you still love me logie?

logansargent: yes?

alexalbon: I' SORRY I HAVE.A GUILTY CONSCIENCE I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE BEING MAD AT ME

user3: lol mood ^

oscarpiastri: you could support your BELOVED BROTHER NOW (AT HIS (OUR) HOME RACE)

yourusername: ugh i guess

oscarpiastri: you literally said you'd support me any time logan wasn't racing :(

yourusername: unless he can come with me, we'll be supporting you from the williams garage

oscarpiastri: better than nothing i guess

logansargent

liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 459,046 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargent: no way around it, this weekend has been the hardest of my career. however, i'm thankful for alex for picking up a couple points for the team and for having y/n with me to support me this weekend, enjoy the cute picture of her (but not too much)

also i guess congrats to oscar on a podium at his home race 🤷🏻‍♂️

view all comments

user4: hardest weekend ever... here's a pic of my. hot gf :)))))

user5: he's real for that, just reminding us that he's still winning off track

alexalbon: thank you isn't enough logie, love you man, can't wait to see you back in the car next week x

yourusername: you're so lucky you got points otherwise your ass would've been grass xoxo

alexalbon: Y/N I SAID I WAS SORRY PLEASE STOP BEING MEAN YOU'RE MEANT TO BE THE NICE PIASTRI

oscarpiastri: you stole my soon-to-be brother-in-law's car and called me a shit padel player 🖕🏻

alexalbon: why is everyone ganging up on me :(

logansargent: you gotta take it for at least this weekend bro

alexalbon: i guess...

user6: they're so cute, but who is taking these photos of them?

yourusername: oscar makes himself useful sometimes

oscarpiastri: ugh i get NO CREDIT IN THIS FAMILY

logansargent: i at least appreciate it oscar 🫶🏻

oscarpiastri: that's all well and good and i love you, you're my bff but sometimes i don't want to see you be lovely dovey with that hellspawn

fredvesti: let it be known i will no longer be sneaking out with you guys for ice cream on a race weekend, the risk was not worth the third wheeling

logansargent: i paid?

fredvesti: thank the lord you did otherwise i'd raise an official complaint

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 793,209 others

tagged: logansargent & yourusername

oscarpiastri: got a podium at my home race and i'm still not my sister's favourite

view all comments

user8: have we considered that y/n and logan have attachment issues?

oscarpiastri: she sat at the window like a woman waiting for her husband at war when he DARED to go home for christmas when we were 16

yourusername: as if you haven't cried over lily 🙄

oscarpiastri: i ACTUALLY don't get to see her very often, i can't separate you and logan

yourusername: LEAVE ME BE

user9: oscar says this as if y/n wasn't crying her eyes out at the podium

user10: and logan wiping her tears to prevent smudging her eyeliner - sigh

logansargent: don't hate the player hate the game

oscarpiastri: what happened to blood being thicker than water

yourusername: you know what else is thicker than water ... 😩😩😩

oscarpiastri: okay you can sTOP RIGHT THERE

landonorris: they're really one being huh?

oscarpiastri: believe me the dinner at mine? they were being TAME

yourusername: okay for the audience we are not that bad, we're just affectionate we aren't like making out in front of everyone

landonorris: .... shame

oscarpiastri: yOU HAVE SHAME THAT'S MY SISTER

logansargent: THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND

yourusername: AND THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND

landonorris: damn tough crowd

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 212,934 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: a wee break before my boy is back to knock your socks off

view all comments

user11: they're so cute your honour

alexalbon: dating a racing driver and not wearing a seat belt? interesting.

yourusername: dating a professional golfer and still shit at golf? interesting.

lilymunhe: she did get you there alex, soz.

yourusername: also we weren't even driving, that hair acting is all a fan

logansargent: practically a professional photographer now (the model definitely helps, she looks perfect doing anything)

yourusername: hehehheheheheheheheheheheeh

user12: y/n really just gagging alex at every corner

user13: she saw logan wasn't holding a grudge and decided to double down on hers

user14: and we respect that

logansargent: you knock my socks off everyday babe

yourusername: as long as it's only me 😘

logansargent: i've been in love with you since i was 13 👍🏻

yourusername: SNAP🫰

oscarpiastri: once again left out of the photodump

yourusername: you are not 'my boy' that would in fact be inappropraite

oscarpiastri: you couldn't just change the caption?

yourusername: you're not cute enough to be a lannister (cersei and jaime call me)

logansargent: ????

yourusername: *call us 😉

logansargent

liked by lilymunhe, alexalbon and 592,309 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargent: glad to be back in the car this weekend, though if alex could stop terrorising y/n that would be great

view all comments

user15: were oscar and y/n's parents in the williams garage?

user16: so oscar wasn't lying about him basically being family already 🥹

alexalbon: i was not TERRORISNG I WAS ENGAGING IN SIBLING LIKE BANTER

oscarpiastri: hold on buster, that's MY sister 🤨

alexalbon: i can't win with any of you three 😭

yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO EAGLE BOY GOD BLESS AMERICA 🦅🇺🇸

logansargent: i'll let you have this one for once

yourusername: as an aussie that was very hard to say, please appreciate it

logansargent: thank you my little kangaroo?

yourusername: kinda offensive they're scary

logansargent: koala?

yourusername: YOU SAYING I HAVE CHLAMYDIA?

logansargent: well i've ran out of australian animals now :(

user17: thanks for the violent reminder of chlamydia being rife in koalas :(

oscarpiastri: gonna have to beat you this weekend to win back my parents' favour it seems

yourusername: let's be real, they prefer logan over both of us :(

oscarpiastri: true 😔

logansargent: i can't help the southern charm

williamsf1

liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,034,672 others

tagged: logansargent

williamsf1: LOGAN POINTS, I REPEAT LOGAN POINTS 😤

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user20: TRUST HIM, I REPEAT TRUST HIM

yourusername: THAT'S MY BOY LET'S FUCKING GO

oscarpiastri: you never get this excited for me?

yourusername: FUCK OFF THIS IS NOT YOUR TURN, IT'S LOGAN'S DAY

maxverstappen1: pretty sure i won the race

yourusername: FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU

user21: y/n crying her eyes out she's so real

user22: based on the faces in the garage i think she may have let everything out lol

user23: as she should

user24: can't expect two people to be attached 24/7 and not be ride or die for each other

logansargent: thanks for the support, glad to pick up some points for the team

yourusername: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

logansargent: i know you've shouted it in my face since i got back from media

yourusername: you need to know it :(

logansargent: i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user25: the whole piastri family going wild in LOGAN'S garage was not on my 2024 bingo sheet

user26: but it was cute as fuck

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 287,045 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: we're down bad with a case of the cuddle bug

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user27: the CUDDLE BUG?

user28: i need to be taken out of my misery

logansargent: i've got a high fever, a love fever

oscarpiastri: THAT WAS CORNY AS FUCK

yourusername: i thought it was cute :(

logansargent: and that's what matters

yourusername: exactlyyyyy

oscarpiastri: so fuck me, right?

yourusername: yes!

logansargent: yes!

user29: this whole interaction makes it so obvious oscar was the only boy growing up LOL

alexalbon: i'll concede, you guys are cute

yourusername: we been known

logansargent: no one does it like us

alexalbon: erm alex and lily erasure?

yourusername: lily cute, you not so much

alexalbon: stop being SO PROTECTIVE WHY ARE YOU A GOLDEN RETRIEVER WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND A RABID JACK RUSSELL WITH ME IT WAS JAMES' DECISION GO FOR JAMES' ANKLES

williamsf1: ???

yourusername: i thought it was friendly sibling banter (also james is logie's boss of course i'm not gonna go for his ankles dummy)

logansargent: she's my little guard dog 🫶🏻

yourusername: anything for you, come back to cuddle :(

logansargent: on my way cuddle bug!

fin.

note: i understand why williams made the decision they did, but i've had such a soft spot for logan since he admitted he's lonely in the paddock :( i hope he has a good next race to really prove himself to everyone xx hope you enjoyed! xx

[fernsnouveau]

I do think that Adrien forgiving all this would be "consistent" with his character, as in, his character at this point is someone who's been conditioned to put up with abuse and stay in abusive relationships and remain palatable, passive, and convenient. It would, however, be the antithesis of the character development he needs in order to stop being an abuse victim and start claiming agency.

Adrien shouldn't just be the crash test dummy for Marinette's character development (which she does NOT seem to be having!!!) to learn not to be(come) an abuser. Adrien's fate should not forever remain controlled by whether or not condescending people with power over him might finally grant him the basic human right of not getting treated as a Lesser Being anymore.

I don't wanna watch a miserable slowburn where Maribug just slowly spirals into treating Adrichat worse and worse for drama, but SOMETIMES it looks like the story acknowledges that it was wrong and she's remorseful, so MAYBE she will do better the next time (and then the situation just gets worse instead). At this point, following the show itself is starting to feel like being in an abusive relationship, where the canon will let you down, spout abuse apologia and get a big chunk of the fanbase to parrot it uncritically and judge and shun anyone who shows discomfort. But then, occasionally, the canon will show apparent remorse and imply that It Can Change For The Better, Just Stay And Watch, You'll See, (You Were The Bad One For Doubting It). That's, like, one of the main reasons why people stay in abusive relationships.

For the record, I actually really liked the emotionally difficult aspects of S4 lovesquare development. But by now it's getting clear that they weren't setup for later positive character development or improvement; the character development consequence has just been Adrien learning to further diminish himself, and start believing that he deserves to be treated badly, and that his free-willed actions would just damage and ruin everything. And now, the new special has pushed him further than ever before down that hole.

Maribug has now managed to break Adrien's spirit more thoroughly than Gabriel ever did.

Endlessly forgiving and staying with the kind of people who keep doing this to him, is the exact core thing Adrien needs to unlearn and get away from, in order to ever heal and be ok.

I really wanted Marinette to be there and learn to support him in that development, but she's made her big choice and sided with Gabriel instead.

Yeah, I am sorry, but Adrien just becoming kinda angry and then accepting Ladybug's 'apology' would be the complete character destruction of Adrien. I mean, his character has been treated pretty badly throughout the whole show but this is a whole new mess now. Normally, Adrien should go crazy at this point, but ofc the narrative wont allow that to happen.

Everyone around him has been lying to him about everything; His father has been lying to him. The person he sees as his hero and partner (Ladybuy, but who is also Marinette, so Adrien is being lied to by his partner and love interest at the same time and he doesnt even know it). His other close friend aka Kagami and kinda his cousin (Felix) have been keeping secrets from him and outright lying to him now (in Kagami's case for LB's sake). Nathalie is lying, and even Plagg has to lie. Adrien really has no one to actually rely on or trust. His entire agency is being ignored in favor of 'being protected'. It's just crazy how much Marinette/LB actually parallels Gabriel. Adrien has no say in anything, has no one to trust, has no agency, has no control, he is completely disregarded. And realistically in the narrative, this sh.t should have serious consequences and a character change moment for Adrien's development and reaction.

I do wonder how Plagg's gonna be handled here, we haven't actually seen him go back to Adrien yet. Marinette certainly didn't order him to not tell Adrien the truth, though I'm also not sure that he could outright say that Gabriel is Monarch, since Gabriel was, however briefly, his Holder. Plagg might squeak by with that excuse.

This would be a good time for Adrien to become closer with Nino I think. Nino's terrible at lying and keeping secrets, but that's exactly what Adrien needs right now.

I don't think that Adrien becoming angry but accepting Ladybug's apology would completely destroy his character, it'd be pretty consistent with it. I DO think that in order to be satisfying, we'd need to see Ladybug be tempted to fall into her old ways, her old patterns, of hiding things from him and lying to him, either to "protect" him or because she wants to control his reaction to something. And instead being truthful and letting him react in whatever way he does, knowing it's his right.

[acid-ixx]

How do think readers relationship with each of the batfam would be had they not been neglected?

what if...? ft. domestic headcanons w/ your family

series masterlist &. request masterlist — long post ahead !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 6400+ words, no beta i'm genuinely insane. help i literally thought abt this yesterday !! i may or may not post a drabble about this one specific dream the reader had about where they had a normal relationship with the batfam but at the same time i want to implement it in the next chapter instead so have food for thoughts instead! slight spoilers below. also please do comment and reblog if u like this ! ^^ supporting my writing just makes me further motivated to write even more !

if you were never neglected by your own family, then i could say that the process of them turning yandere would be a tad bit better or worse. i'm saying, because of your past and because of an incident during your elementary years (that could've been avoided if your family actually never ignored you; so let's assume that that incident actually never happened but it opened a gateway for an even more protective family) the batfam could easily be either a dream or nightmare.

let's say it was bruce and dick who had picked you up from the police station. the moment he sees his own firstborn child, all his thoughts would circulate from just how broken and hopeless you absolutely looked, how the injuries litter throughout your entire body, the way your empty eyes stare at anything.

the child, his child, looked exactly like him all those years ago. he knows just how painful it is to bare losing all your loved ones.

he wouldn't hesitate to approach your form, immediately picking you up and letting your head lean on his shoulders as dick follows in tow, cooing about his significantly younger sibling.

that would be the first time dick would call you his baby bird, with the way you'd stare at him with mixed emotions in your eyes.

if him and dick were to hear about what happened to you inside your old apartment from the police (drugged and abused by the same men who took your mother away from you), then be guaranteed that batman and nightwing would be more brutal during their patrol afterwards (dick would even take more weeks off from bludhaven just to care for his younger sibling), even going as far as formulating a plan for your captors, having oracle stalk each and every person involved in your life.

if anyone thinks the vigilante would abide by his no-kill rule then they're wrong, because he'd turn a blind eye for once if dick were to brutally stab someone at any moment. why? because batman will not settle until his own child's attackers are thrown into putrid prison cells with no guarantee that they'll see the light of the day. the criminals should be grateful that red hood isn't even in the picture yet.

your father would be more perceptive of your emotions if he had never neglected you. he will always be the one giving you rides, he'll shield you away from the mass media trying to take photographs of you— and you're getting carried throughout the manor if your little body were to even express fatigue.

bruce wayne wouldn't admit it, but he absolutely cherishes you and your youth. he had adopted dick and grayson when they were above the age of ten, when they were already growing some sort of consciousness about the world they live in. but you? you're so small and you have so much to learn, your innocence is something bruce would protect. you'll be absolutely coddled by your father, your grandfather figure, alfred, and your oldest brother, dick. even future members of the family knows just how important you are maintaining their sanity.

that means you have the manor in the palm of your hands. you had a nightmare tonight? don't worry, your dad would always be one step ahead of you and would immediately be in your room. hell, if you were comfortable enough, you'd be sleeping in the same bedroom as your dad for the first few years you'll live inside the manor. he'll read you bedtime stories if you want and even have alfred prepare you warm milk or chocolate before you go to sleep. his entire schedule would also be centered around you, making sure that he would always arrive on time from business meetings to have dinner with you, and coming home early from patrols. if he leaves the manor before you're set off to sleep, then he'll be giving you a good night's kiss whilst alfred would be the one substituting for your nightly bedtime stories.

you may call him overbearing once you start to notice the signs the more you grow older, but your father will always track your sleep schedule - he even makes you wear a watch that records your heart rate - from the moment you drift into dreamland to the times you get nightmares— he makes sure the food you eat before dinner is light, booking appointments with nutritionists to make sure you're healthy. he even does specialized training with you, for self defence and to also maintain a healthy lifestyle.

and dick grayson? his visits to gotham would be more frequent. even if his relationship with bruce is strained, he'll always be in the manor faster than you could say 'i miss you' to your older brother on the phone. he loves coddling his baby bird, especially since you were adopted right after jason's death; dick doesn't want a repeat of the past, always making sure you get proper cuddles and affirmations.

spending time with dick means you get all the power to draw on his arms or face or make arts and crafts with him. he enjoys it when his baby bird is at their comfiest state so even if you were seated on the floor, there would always be cozy blankets that count as your chairs and snacks right beside you. you could ask him to get something for you and he's right at it.

he would be the older brother who normalizes physical affection in the household. dick would constantly kiss your cheeks, your foreheads, and any injuries you would obtain (a habit that even bruce adopted once your dad realized how it's an effective way to soften your cries and ease your heart). he's not afraid of picking you up even! always tossing you to the air under alfred or bruce's supervision whenever you feel down. dick would always hold your hand, too, as an assurance that your beloved older brother is always there for you.

you'd probably ignore all the red flags he carries around because of how early he shows off his signs of obsessiveness. so don't question it if him and bruce wouldn't allow you to go to sleepovers with your other friends or if sometimes, just sometimes dick feels the need to just have you in his arms for hours without end after particularly brutal patrols. you're the only person holding him up and if he doesn't breath in that reminder then he might just lose himself.

your brother would literally prioritize you over anything else. he can and will pick you up from school, he makes sure nobody in your class is there to bully you, he'll spoil you with sweet treats whenever bruce is too busy with business meetings. he wants to be seen as your favorite ever since he's discovered himself to be your idol, so he'll always show off his acrobatic skills for your eyes only.

whenever dick would say "i love you!" it always translates to, "if you want me to, then i will give you the world." which means he'll drop anything he's doing right now the moment you invite him over to design your diaries or sketchbooks.

your talents very early on would be heavily acknowledged by your family. that means any single drawing or craft you'd do, whether poorly done or not, would be stored in very protective places or shows off in every crevice of the manor. any father's day gift from you would be framed in bruce's personal office, a personal reminder to him that you are the light at the end of the brooding tunnel he puts himself in. so even if he can't always be there for you, he will always have you in his mind and in his heart.

your existence in the manor would prove to be a healthier way for bruce to cope, for him to get his mind off of the loss of his second child. whenever he looks at you, he'll always be filled with a determination to protect gotham from any further danger, to save the city - if not himself, then for your sake, for his baby to feel safe whenever they would walk on the streets, for his baby to feel protected whenever you two would eat in fancy restaurants or go shopping for your diary's supplies.

criminals would immediately get the message that messing with you means getting on the bad side of both batman and nightwing. you may be the child of bruce wayne, (name) wayne, but if they even think of kidnapping you for ransom then they should pray; pray because if batman's baby even gets a single nick, a single droplet of blood on their body then they're gone. there's no such thing as holding back if it comes to you.

now, your older sister figure, barbara gordon, despite her constantly being busy because of her role as the oracle, would find ways to at least entertain you whenever you would visit her in the batcave. if you feel like your father's overprotective nature and your older brother's coddling is too much, then she will be offer you solace by her side. she may not always be physically there but you two are as close as you are to the other members of your family because you're a creative one. it's not often barbara gets to spend time with someone like you who enjoys having her as a muse for your art pieces. she allows you to also style her hair, and if you like to design clothing, then she'd be your model for as much as you want.

barbara is also your go-to for when dick and bruce are both unavailable. she lets you watch her hack through multiple security systems, explaining concepts that you don't understand. and, because she's the most emotionally stable out of all of them, you'd prefer gossiping to her about your school's drama compared to dick, as she actually gives you helpful advice!

well, little do you know that she had already hacked your school's camera footage and wired multiple recorders on your bag but you don't have to know that! after all, barbara wants to keep the only sane person in the household safe and happy. she's not openly obsessive towards you, but whatever secrets you have that don't compromise your safety are secrets she promises she will bring to the grave. that means if you ever have a crush on a someone then she will hide it from the others.

... that is until you actually end up trying to get into a relationship too early for even her eyes then she won't hesitate sending out the signals to bruce and the others. she can't afford exposing her younger sibling to heartbreaks and emotional attachment towards strangers! so do forgive her if there are times where you feel like there's someone constantly watching your back, because she is that someone; with all the intentions in the world that you wouldn't have to go through what she did with the joker or any other villains who could whisk you away from their arms.

it's obvious that, of course the oracle will use all the power in her hands to guarantee all eyes are on you, so that there would never be an opening for any danger towards you. even if you do know that she's the one in-control of the strings, there's not much you could do but accept it.

then there's tim drake. your brother who had stalked batman and nightwing just to prove a point. his parents are alive and he's fine being on his own, but fuck it if he prefers being in the wayne manor! once you're introduced to tim, he's immediately researching about the first biological child of bruce wayne. and thank god bruce requires the two of you to become familiar with each other because you're just so interesting to him, you and your curious eyes, your small habits— the way you shift in your position as your father's hands are clasped on your shoulder protectively.

tim can already feel himself blast off in excitement just solving the mysteries about you! yet he doesn't know it in himself that the longer you spend time with him, the more the urge to just stitch himself into your very life grows stronger.

if you were never neglected by your own family then you would instead be analyzed constantly. tim is just another set of eyes constantly watching you, but unlike the others, he picks off every single detail about you to a T.

you, your interests, your hobbies, your favorites, your friends, you name it; he will have an entire collection of case files on everything, picking apart your very mind to the seams. it's like he's eating up the information about you, spending sleepless nights researching about a movie you two would watch soon, because the look of amazement in your eyes feeds the growing love he has for his sibling.

at first he'd never understand why bruce and dick seems so smitten towards you other than the case regarding your mother. but he slowly starts to understand why— because just like him, you're perceptive of his well-being. if dick isn't around then you're always the one hanging around his room, visiting him with snacks in your arms or an invitation to watch a cartoon show.

he likes doing your assignments for you, especially your projects even if he neglects his own duties for his own school. and despite how emotionally constipated or unaware he seems, he's obsessed with your personal life. that means you don't even have to rant to him about school drama or your friends or crush because he can and will know it. what he doesn't like, though, is when your attention is towards anything but him. he may not be the most physically comfortable to cuddle but he will offer you his jackets which he would end up not washing right after you use them, instead he wears them, feeling closer to you than ever.

it even lulls him to sleep for the times you're unable to sleep over at his room.

tim may not know how to comfort you like dick whenever you wake up from nightmares but he does know ways to avoid them; he knows a lot of strategic methods to get you drowsy after a moment's panic.

bonus points if you cuddle him afterwards! he loves the warmth that you emanate, loves it when your body leans against him and makes him feel so important. tim loves it when you snuggle him unknowingly, tightening your already bruising grip on him, he loves reciprocating it too, feeling a special bond with his sibling that not even his parents could offer.

though he doesn't openly tell you that he loves you, he does so in his own ways! you don't want to see an entire photography room dedicated to his younger sibling— most pictures contributed by tim. you don't want to see the terabytes of files that are all about you and your interests, millions of video imagery of just you sketching or writing diary entries, sometimes eating or rambling senselessly. you don't know it but tim loves playing the videos of you in the background, especially the ones where you're humming a tune or singing a lullaby; those are his favorites.

it's not his fault that you're just so interesting to him, that your presence is so comforting, that you're the only person closest to him that has the ability to make him melt into you, unknowingly succumbing to your spoiled wishes.

jason todd comes into the picture later, and he is a very enraged man. he's mad at his replacement, at bruce, at you, at the entire universe.

at first he just doesn't understand anything. he doesn't understand why bruce finds it so easy to not only replace his status as robin but to also bring in another child, who's valued and loved more despite not taking the mantle of robin. he's mad at just how quick he was replaced, how it seems like bruce never avenged him, and yet if he threatens your safety then the old man suddenly turns violent towards him?!

jason wouldn't bring you into the fray, because you're unaware of the entire situation, but fuck, he doesn't understand why you are just so cherished when he'd watch the news and sees your picture plastered all over the reporters' walls, talking about the child who bruce never allowed to separate from his side. they talk about how you're the sheltered one, the hearthrob of all media with just how clingy the billionaire is towards his supposed younger sibling.

he's not jealous, he gets why bruce is protective and smothers himself all over you; but he hates feeling replaced, feeling discarded and forgotten by the very man who'll avenge your death if that ever happened.

hence why he has to see it for himself, has to see you for himself. it's a coincidence, a miracle actually that he just seems to easily find you by the kitchen of the manor— a manor whose aura is now different from last time, it seems like it now reeks of life, of personality. clearly you were the main cause of all of this.

you could simply be reading a book and sipping your nightly tea, but jason would soon realize just how... vulnerable you are at the moment. you find him hiding in the shadows and all you offer is a wide stare with no sense of self defense whatsoever. it's the same vulnerability that he sees off the cruelest streets of gotham. you're exactly like the innocent kids who get brutally murdered without justice, just like the children who have never once gained penance for the torture they had to experience just living off of personality.

jason isn't a dumbass, living near the crime alley means hearing the gossips of every citizen. your name, or preferably your last name is famed even in the underground. your mother is infamous for catching the attention of most crime lords by running off with their cash, successful staying hidden to care for her child, just right until she met her untimely demise. you lost her early just like how he lost his mother early as she had fallen victim to drug overdose.

he'll discover why gotham's vigilante seems to be so protective over you. the way you carry yourself, the warmth you give off as you offer him your leftover dinner despite not

you told him that your dad taught you to never talk to strangers— but clearly he's not because "how else would you be able to trespass the millions of security alarms in the manor? you must've lived here before." you'll state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, sipping your drink before you offer him a seat next to yours, unafraid of the dangers that lie ahead of you—

"you must've really been pampered by the old man, huh?" is all his reply, the voice changer of his makes him sound naturally intimidating, like he's ready to attack but no, that's not his intentions with you. he'll take a seat beside you, try to make out what book you're reading and that's when he knows that you truly have no idea that it's your dead brother who's talking to you. you have no idea of his resurrection whatsoever as you start to mumble off about the novel— he finds it quite amusing that, finally, he's not the only guy who enjoys literature in the family, even going as far as to recommend his own fair share of favorite novels to you.

once he leaves out of the window after a seemingly long session of talking, definitely aware that yes, bruce does have a microchip inserted under your skin, and the watch you're wearing has a voice recorder that sends recordings straight to the batcave's system; jason takes note to visit you more often, finding the normalcy you offer very welcoming.

he likes it, likes your mellow behavior. he'll even admit that you're the only proof that bruce can, in fact, raise a child right, even if that means tracking their entire life. but that's the old man's love language, and jason knows it in himself that he's already planning for a way to take you to ride his motorcycle at night without bruce's knowledge; just so his angel knows the feeling of gotham's breeze flowing through their hair since bruce seems to love dictating your every move.

once he does form a solid plan to take you away, even just temporarily, you don't have to worry about the criminals who litter the streets because jason made sure that nobody's gonna mess with him and his angel's bonding time together.

the youngest, damian wayne, and the second biological child of bruce is a special case. his upbringing as an assassin makes him susceptible to his fits of tantrums. the first time he steps foot into the manor is the same time he will threaten anyone around him; and that includes you, the bastard child. quite frankly, your first greeting with him would be the same as the one in the original storyline, you'll greet him with a tray of sweets in your hand and a small smile and he'll reply with a sword on your neck. but the difference would be the undeniable fact that dick and bruce immediately stopped him from even nicking your delicate skin.

dick's swearing was shut down by alfred's scolding and you, again! pulling on your oldest brother's sleeve with an assurance that you're okay.

that's the very first time he sees his father truly reprimand him with nothing but rage in his eyes. despite damian's annoying antics towards his father the entire day, it seems like you were the snapping point.

his father, bruce wayne, made it very clear that he can mess with anyone and everyone in the family but you. that you have nothing to

his only reply would be a sneer as he demands they take him to his room immediately, unable to shut you down when you offer to help bring his luggage despite bruce's firm unwillingness and dick's hesitant request that his baby bird should instead spend time in his room instead.

but it was always your word above everybody else's and damian hates that, hates that everyone just seems to succumb to your request as long as it doesn't compromise your safety. the bitterness that keeps resurfacing in his heart whenever he sees you wearing tim or dick's jacket, or if he caught sight of bruce giving you affection was a feeling he tried to convince himself wasn't jealousy.

not jealousy towards you, no, but towards them. your behavior towards him was nothing but kind, a kindness that was taught to him as weakness. he thinks you're weak and undeserving of being spoiled and yet he hates it whenever he sees his blood sibling (whom he called a bastard child so many times) become too close with anyone but him.

he hates it, he hates you and his conflicting feelings. he hates it when he pushes you away, hates it when he sees you pout after another failed attempt at trying to have your youngest sibling talk to you.

and as the days or even weeks pass by, with all your effort to try to bond with him, with the days where he can feel dick's energy drain because you insisted on spending time with damian instead of dick again, with tim's intolerable treatment towards the him because you chose to bother damian instead of that loser— are the days he feels himself actually becoming closer to you because he relishes in your insufferable behavior towards them, because you just seem so sweet to him.

damian feels that it's right that you make him the exception.

so it's inevitable that damian will eventually discover both your talents towards art and the love for nature. it's a mistake, really, when one day as he stalks through the hallways he'd find you in your own atelier, painting a portrait of a robin with a color scheme that matches his vigilante suit. the beams of sunlight seems to hit you just right because you looked so at peace with your surroundings, humming a tune, unaware of your youngest brother who has found himself at your most natural state.

he'll budge in without moment's hesitation afterwards, steering clear behind you as he analyzes your art. it would only be after a few minutes would he announce his presence in the room, expecting you to scream at him to buzz off but all you did was jump in your seat, looking back to eye the intruder only to find out it was damian all along, offering him a smile and a seat beside you.

after he does so, you'll both end up spending the entire day bombarding each other with art tips and animal facts. he'll give you comments about the bird's proportions and you give him guidelines on how to properly mix your colors without it looking muddled. it's like you two are meant to be siblings because damian swears he ended up clinging to your side after your painting session, refusing to even seat beside anyone during dinner time if it isn't you because he's not done rambling about the rainbow eucalyptus you had told him you'd seen in a nature documentary once— so it's rightfully his place to be beside you and not drake's or grayson's or even his father.

eventually you two would be as close as peas in a pod because you're seemingly the only one who knows how to calm him down, the only one with the right to raise your voice at him and to ask him of favors because you're his blood sibling. and because you both share the same blood, that means you both should share clothes that complement each other, share snacks and treats, share matching bracelets and necklaces and any jewelry, you're the only one allowed to hang around his room and him in yours.

the others find it annoying that you let him be, but what choice do they have? unless they would like to hear an earful from damian then they should stay silent because you both aren't done painting each other's nails yet!

stephanie brown is shortly introduced to you after her incessant insistence on meeting you right after stepping foot into the manor. she knows of your internet fame for being the beloved bruce wayne's 'favorite' child and she's not afraid to admit that you are indeed adorable in person! unlike your first meeting with damian, steph would immediately coddle you at first glance, insisting you call her by 'steph' and that

due to the short period of time as her robin and her being constantly reprimanded for her antics, you'd take it in yourself to become closer with her, and she accepts your offer without any complaints. she's also one of your muses for your art and it's a good thing she has a sense of style unlike your brothers who are either too flashy (you had to stifle a laughter looking at the discowing costume) or too dull. damian's fashion sense is good but he's often out during the time period you spend with steph, and even if she often doesn't stay still, you at least hsve someone to talk your ears off whilst you try to sketch the poses she chose.

her obsession towards you stems from your willingness to "match her freak" or whatever internet lingo she finds that day, but she's a fun company to be around! she's always there for you when you need to rant about anything regarding your feelings, especially since you're at the age where you're a teenager and your emotions towards your family would be all over the place and she'd relate the most towards that.

so other than barbara, you'll find yourself speaking up about any concerns you have to steph, and she turns your 'favoritism' towards her her entire personality.

but if you think of even spilling your secrets about a highschool crush to steph or news that someone had asked you out for prom them then spoiler alert! don't. like her mentor, steph will drop signs and clues and your brothers would promptly deal with that. awe, don't worry about feeling alone though or if you weren't permitted to go to your highschool prom because steph and babs will be the ones to convince bruce to throw you your own very elegant gala where you would dance with only your siblings!

see, isn't she so strategic that way? psht, you don't need a boy or a girl acting as your temporary reprieve when your entire family is there for you! steph is here for you and you did technically promise to go out with her today to go shopping so...

it's not that she isn't on your side, no! but you're very much the entire family's baby and she doesn't want you losing your attention on her, definitely not! her goofy personality towards you really does cover her intense urge to be by your side really well. unlike damian, it's not obvious that she's trying so hard to monopolize your time for herself but you're just so fun to be around and she's at her best behavior when it comes to you.

so what's wrong if she ditches her other friends to bond with her beloved sibling? it's not like they'd understand what it's like having someone who actually looks at her for her rather than just the surface level.

don't question why most of the gifts she had given you (which ranges from attires like jackets and shles, to matching bracelets, even little fidget toys) all don a shade of purple and blue! and don't also question why her gallery is filled with cute selfies of you and why your phone's lock screen wallpaper is now suddenly matching with hers.

after all, steph likes making it known that you are her favorite!

cassandra cain, when she first saw you, is, of course, silent. but she makes her presence known quickly after she has enough proof that you've no fight in your body. she may not be the most expressive in words but she is through actions.

you were actually the one who had first approached her after bruce initially introduced you two to each other, offering her a handshake and a greeting in sign language. albeit it being crusty, and her insisting that it's alright if you do the talking, it seems like you were more than willing to learn sign language just for the sake of your new sister and she likes it.

she really, really likes it, appreciates how there were no signs of malice in your movements and just how comfortable you seemed with someone who could potentially end your life with just a snap of her fingers. and yet you treat her like she's not a weapon of murder but rather another sibling who is welcomed into your own world.

you ask her if she wants to hang out with you and steph in your own personal sleepover inside your room and she accepts it because of just how comforting your presence is. it's been so long since she had last felt like she was treated as a human and you were proof that she's glad she never took the path to human carnage like her father intended her to because then she wouldn't meet someone who would soon be so precious to her.

cass may not talk a lot but she is a listener.

a listener to both your words and your body language. it's quicker for her to notice if you ever needed a hug or a catalyst for comfort. she knows your boundaries and when you need space the most. she knows it when you want to open up to her about how stuffy the manor is beginning to feel, how it feels as if they're becoming more sensitive about your social life, how you wish your friends aren't distancing themselves from you because of how intimidating your family is.

and you can say all that to her because cass, alongside duke and sometimes steph, would be the only ones keeping your deepest darkest desires to their grave. although she may not understand your reasonings on why you even felt like your family is coddling you too much (because they're not! they love you very much and she does too) in the first place, she's always the one offering you to hold her hands whenever you're going through a momentary panic attack or a shoulder to lean on whenever dick would scold you for something impulsive you've done.

unlike your neglected counterpart, cass would always be by your shadows, watching every one of your moves and to abide by bruce's order to make sure you wouldn't escape, shall you ever feel rebellious during your teenage years. you may be older than her but she's stronger than you, more experienced and can even combat your dad if she wants to.

yet she always seems to let her guard down when it comes to you because you just seem to have that alluring effect on everybody. can't you understand just how important you are to everybody? you're the most important to her, you're one of the first few people who had treated her like a human so she swears on her life to protect you from harm's way like you did her whenever she's often in a pit of despair.

cass isn't the most expressive, so she makes up for it by instead leaving signs that she really cares for you, or sometimes hiding little trinkets for you to find in your room. it's like her very own message that translates 'cass was here'.

whenever you sit beside her at the dinner table, she always slips in extra food by your plate without you looking or sometimes even filling your glass bottles with extra juice and you'll never know why until you realize that it's her way of telling you to eat more. sometimes, your clothes would go missing until you see your sisters wearing your own collection of jackets and hoodies then swapping them in your drawers for their own— you'd realize that cass got that idea from steph and you can't get mad at her or anybody else as it soon becomes tradition that you'll have an entire closet dedicating to the missing clothes you have that your siblings have replaced to their own attire.

cass really does love you and although she can't always say it out loud, you'll always have a constant reminder instead. as long as you're safe and sound then you don't have to witness the darker sides of her that she hides from you.

then finally, duke thomas. he may have been introduced to you the latest but you could say in terms of every trait, he'd be the brother you'd like to keep close for every situation. your first meeting with him is quite frankly the most normal one of them all, introducing yourself to duke through dinner. although he may be temporarily under bruce's guardianship over anything else, he's incredibly comforting to be around as he's quick to catch on your emotions but unlike the others, he doesn't push you to open up to him, but he won't leave your side at all either.

duke is the only metahuman you're probably allowed to be close with because your dad absolutely refuses you from even trying to talk with the superfamily. and duke heavily prides himself with that information, often secretly showing you his metahuman skills and answering whatever questions you have about them.

like jason, duke wouldn't fully delude himself into thinking you're innocent, that you need to be babied to the point they feel the urge to track even the food you eat— so he's your reliable source for any video games you were forbidden to play or any movies dick would consider too gruesome for you. he's chill, he even sneaks you unhealthy chips once in a while which makes him automatically one of the top in your tier list.

but don't think he's entirely on your side, because whilst duke seems the most normal to you - the only sibling who wouldn't smother you in blankets the moment you accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife - he's also batshit crazy for his own sibling and he'll sacrifice a lot for you two. so if you even dare try to suggest an idea that duke knows would risk not only him, but especially you, then that idea automatically is relayed to your dad and you wouldn't really want your father's gentle scolding anymore.

you can try to find a loophole to go out with him though! if you want to eat batburgers outside then you can do so when he's at his patrol, seeing as how he's the only batkid who does daytime patrol and that's way safer than eating at night, no?

so do expect spending more time with him the most outside, other than with dick and damian, but you'll be forced to sit in the sidelines where nobody can lay their hands on you whilst duke would be busy fighting crime and afterwards treating you to ice cream like he didn't just 'accidentally' and brutally body slammed a criminal into the wall for giving you heart eyes.

'most normal member of the family, my ass' would be the first thing that pops into your mind, but hey! at least you didn't have to be always locked up into the stuffy manor, right...?

at least you get to spend time with all of your siblings and a very loving and attentive father..!

little did you know that the only reason they allowed you out is to give you this false sense of independence, slowly but surely planning for the ultimate day where they truly would lock you up away from the world.

but they just can't help it, you know? the media's greedy hands are starting to take more than they could; so many eyes are on you and danger awaits at every corner in gotham— they can't afford having their beloved being pried away from their arms.

so is it truly a blessing or a curse in disguise? you don't know anymore.

[sanguineterrain]

Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken

this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!

clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰

****

Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.

The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.

You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.

You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.

"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.

A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.

The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.

You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.

"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.

You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.

Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.

And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.

"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"

You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."

He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."

You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"

Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.

"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."

Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.

"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."

Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."

Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.

"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.

"No?"

"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."

Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.

"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."

"Oh. Thank you."

You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.

He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.

"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."

"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.

"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."

Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.

"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"

You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.

"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"

He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.

Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Epilogue

doll!sunghoon x doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), threesome, unprotected sex, cream pie, eiffel tower, oral (m&f.rec), deep throating, doggy, soft dom!hoon/sub!jake, hoon&jae don't get it on but there is one kiss, cum plugging, nipple play, angst, mentions of heaven/hell, not a lot of jongseong (sorry jay lovers!) wc: 22k synopsis: you and jaeyun return to the house that started it all, however you didn't realise the impact that leaving would have on the demon you left behind, leaving you with a choice to make, and both involve visiting heeseung's room just one more time. heeseung | masterlist | a/n: hi! so if you haven't been keeping up with me or my blog then this epilogue will surprise you but with everyone wishing for just one more chapter i thought why not do an epilogue? i tried to give everyone an ending they deserved so i hope you all like it! likes, reblogs, feeback, comments are all appreciated as always! thank you so much for the love on tdh

“Y/N, can you please tell Jaeyun that this is a communal space,” Mia exasperates, pointing over to the doll and the current tornado of clothes lying over the living room floor. 

There are clothes everywhere; tops on the sofa, trousers on the carpet, and his underwear messily splayed over the small dining table situated in the corner of the room, the very location Mia happens to be as she tries to eat her lunch.

Mia and Jaeyun have developed a love-hate relationship over the past three months. To be honest, this wasn’t the problem you thought you would have when you told Mia that you are soulfully attached to a doll that is possessed by your should-have-been guardian angel. That was already a massive hurdle to overcome but you thought that maybe they could become friends once they get to know one another properly.

Unfortunately, Jaeyun holds a grudge, her words from her last visit to the mansion still stinging his heart, and Mia has never been a fan of dolls or supernatural entities living amongst the living. 

“He is WHAT?” Mia exclaims with her jaw slack enough to catch flies.

You look at Jaeyun who is standing one foot behind you, still wary of telling her, “He’s alive. Surprise!” you smile awkwardly, jazz-handing your way out of explaining any further about the situation you have found yourself in.

Mia turns pale, stumbling backwards and collapsing onto the table behind you, her body desperately seeking support. You understand it's overwhelming; after all, you weren’t prepared to handle such news back then either. Granted, a mere 20 minutes later your mouth was being stuffed with his doll cock so there wasn’t that much time to process.

“Y/N, you need to get that freak of nature back to his creepy dollhouse,” she quivers, pointing accusingly at Jaeyun.

“It’s not a dollhouse, it’s a house that dolls live in,” Jaeyun clarifies, rolling his glass eyes in annoyance.

And from there, it has been bicker after bicker between them.

You haven't told Jaeyun about his true background and who he was meant to be, knowing the others withheld this information for a good reason. Staying with him has revealed his true personality to you - a fragile soul not yet ready to face the harsh realities of his tragic death and his actual purpose in life. It might be selfish to keep this from him, but he's happy as he is. Why shatter that peace?

Besides, you would hate for him to see his brothers differently. The love he has for them is so pure that you can't bear to ruin it.

"This is actually mine and Y/N's place. You're just crashing here because your boyfriend dumped you and kicked you out," he retorts, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"It'll be your place once you start paying rent. Ever thought of mannequin work? You'd love it - they stick a metal pole right up your a-"

"Enough, you two," you interject firmly, quelling the rising tension. Memories of the last altercation flood your mind—it was not a pretty sight when Mia attempted to break his arm and toss it out the window. "Baby doll, can you hurry up and pack? We promised Soonyeol we'd be there by 2pm at the latest," you say softly, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

Nodding, Jaeyun bounds over the clothes, finally picking what he wants to wear. The way he was packing, you would think that you were staying at the mansion for a week, not just an overnight trip.

You had planned this trip for Jaeyun because it was so evident how much he was missing them all. He was on the phone to them every night, particularly Sunghoon, and once he hung up the phone he would look dejected and eagerly anticipate the next time it was appropriate to phone. One time, he was on the phone so long that you went to bed when it started and woke up just as it ended.

Of course, it's natural for him to miss them; it's all he's ever known in this existence. Part of you feels a twinge of guilt for taking him away from his home, but you also recognise that it would have hurt you both even more if you were apart, especially considering Jongseong's previous warning about being unlinked to your guardian angel. Moreover, he wanted to come of his own accord, and you've made it abundantly clear that he's free to leave whenever he wishes.

As you watch him pack, a sense of warmth fills your heart. Despite the challenges and uncertainties, you're grateful for every moment you get to spend with him. And as you prepare for this trip, you can't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the thought of seeing him reunited with his loved ones.

You would also be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to seeing them again.

"Are you almost ready, baby doll?" you ask softly, unable to hide the loving smile tugging at your lips.

He scrambles to fit in some final pieces, doing a quick verbal checkover before clicking his fingers in realization. "Two minutes! I forgot my sunscreen," he says before darting up the hall to rummage through the bathroom cabinet.

"You're made of plastic!" Mia yells at him, clearly flabbergasted, then turns to you. "Is he serious?"

"Be kind, you know how he is. Plus, he's made from thermoplastic elastomer, not plastic. You know this," you reply with a gentle chuckle, understanding Jaeyun's quirks all too well.

Ever since you brought him home, Jaeyun has been determined to be as human as possible, eagerly picking up traits and characteristics to blend in seamlessly. You often find him engrossed in binge-watching sitcoms and movies, the TV becoming his best friend as he tries to grasp human behaviour. After all, the only human he had ever come into contact with before you was Soonyeol, and everything he learned about cities and people was through her and some old books.

Exploring outside with you has been an adventure, though he requires glasses and a bit of contour to give his complexion a more lifelike appearance. So far, your cautious outings to the shops or bustling hubs of people have kept you inconspicuous.

You made it clear to Jaeyun that the last thing you wanted was for him to feel trapped in your flat, understanding the toll it took on your mental health all those months ago. Thus, you both make a concerted effort to integrate him into society, ensuring he experiences the world beyond the confines of your home. 

Once he comes back and packs his unnecessary sunscreen and an extra-extra pair of socks, he is ready to go, the excitement on his face evident as you both say goodbye to Mia and head back to the house that started it all.

_____

The crackle of gravel under your tyres fills the air, and suddenly, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. Is it odd to feel nostalgic for a place you were in just three months ago? Shouldn't that sentiment be reserved for moments like childhood memories of playing in a friend's backyard at age six?

Bringing the car to a stop, you gaze ahead and notice that the moss and bushes have been trimmed, giving the exterior a more manicured appearance. The daisy bush is still intact, if not more beautiful than the last time you set eyes on it. It's a subtle change, but it speaks volumes about the passage of time since you visited the place Jaeyun called home. 

You glance at Jaeyun and find the brightest smile lighting up his face, his left leg bouncing in eager anticipation. With a gentle touch, you tuck some of his hair behind his ear, pulling him from his trance of happiness. His leg stills as your touch renders him relaxed. "You ready, baby doll?"

He nods, clasping his large hand over yours, bringing your palm to his plump lips and kissing it gently. "Are you? I think that's the big question here," he replies, sensing your apprehension about returning to the mansion. It’s the downside to having a soulmate that feels your emotions with you, you can’t ever hide when you’re upset or nervous.

It's not that you don't want to see everyone; it's the simple thought of what if Jaeyun wants to stay here again? Being in the city with you could have been a nice holiday for him, but what if he decides he wants to go back to Soonyeol as soon as he sets eyes on her?

He doesn't have friends back in the city; he only has you. Sometimes, you wonder if that's enough for him. Soulmates or not, a person cannot survive solely on the love of one other person. He needs a network, and unfortunately, that network is here in this mansion.

You assure him with a grin and a nod, feeling the warmth of his affection as he presses his knuckles to your lips once again, sealing his love for you inside of it, reassuring you even only slightly. Together, you step out of the car and walk up to the grand front doors, the nervousness in your body different from when you arrived on your first day on shift.

Reaching out, you raise your hand to knock on the door, your heart beating just a little faster with each passing moment. This visit could change everything, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead fills you with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

A minute of silence passes before the door swings open, revealing Soonyeol with her cheery grin and bright energy. She looks as beautiful as ever, her long hair and pretty sundress almost making you curse at yourself for wearing a pair of shorts and an old band t-shirt that has faded in its whiteness from frequent wear.

Jaeyun lets go of your hand and leaps forward, embracing her tightly. His excitement is palpable, and you can't help but smile at the sight of their reunion, even if a pang of insecurity tugs at your heart. You step back slightly, giving them space, watching the reunion with a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. 

There's happiness for Jaeyun, seeing him reunited with someone who clearly means so much to him. But there's also a twinge of uncertainty, a fear that perhaps this reunion will change things between you two.

You take a deep breath, pushing aside those thoughts for now. This moment isn't about you; it's about Jaeyun seeing his found family and getting the much-needed time with them. His happiness is the upmost importance.

"Soonyeol, it's been too long," Jaeyun says, his voice filled with genuine affection as he pulls back slightly from the embrace, still holding her at arm's length.

"It really has, Jaeyun. I've missed you," Soonyeol replies, her smile softening as she looks at him.

You step forward, offering a tentative smile. "Hi, Soonyeol. It's nice to see you again."

Rolling her eyes playfully, Soonyeol reaches for your arm and pulls you into a warm hug. "Come on, Y/N, we don't need to be awkward here! You're part of the family now," she says happily, her voice filled with genuine warmth as she embraces you like a lifelong friend.

There is no weight of angst towards you in her body. She is so kind and generous that you wonder how on earth she has such a hold on Heeseung, considering someone with a pure heart like her must be the easiest target of all. 

"Thank you, Soonyeol," you say softly, grateful for her kindness.

As you pull back from the hug, she waves off your appreciation and gestures towards the inside of the house. "We're all in the living room," she comments, not offering to show you the way. It's a subtle acknowledgement of your familiarity with the mansion; after all, if anyone knows this house as well as she does, it's you.

With a nod of understanding, you follow her lead and step inside, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you as you reenter the familiar surroundings of the mansion. It’s strange how easy it is to fall back into place as soon as you cross the threshold; you’re almost seconds away from grabbing the green feather duster again.

You roll your case across the mahogany floor as you walk towards the living room, marvelling at the once creepy, dark walls with a sense of fondness. You missed this place more than you will ever admit to anyone, the tranquillity of it all was missed on nights of sirens and drunken shouting just outside your flat.

Jaeyun doesn't seem to mind the hustle and bustle surrounding him. In fact, he's fascinated by it, curious as to why so many people are in such a rush to skip through life when there's so much of the world they're missing. Whether their noses are buried in their phones or they simply don't care to interact with one another, Jaeyun sees the beauty in every moment.

If there were an award for chatterboxes, Jaeyun would undoubtedly win it. From the moment you realised he could converse, you knew he had a lot to say. Every day, he fills the air with his thoughts and musings, and you couldn't love it more. You are aware that his past got swiped from his memory, but it's truly as if he's experiencing his first life.

Yet, you can't help but wish he could speak to more than just you and Mia when he's back home with you. The world is full of people he could connect with, and you want nothing more than for him to experience the joy of making new friends and sharing his boundless enthusiasm with others. A person as pure and joyful as him should be able to enrich people's lives the way he has yours.

Reaching the living room, Jaeyun takes your free hand and squeezes it, prompting you to turn to him.

"Hmm?" you ask, tilting your head as you catch his soft expression.

"I love you, you know that right? You know I'm not going anywhere if it's not with you," he says earnestly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. His serious tone leaves no room for doubt; he means every word.

Jaeyun may exude the excitement of a puppy who loves being looked after, but he's also incredibly understanding of your own needs. He knows that sometimes you need verbal reassurance, especially now that you’re diving back into the complexities of life at the mansion. While it's easy to pretend to be just another normal couple back in the city, here you're acutely aware of the history that lingers in the halls and the events that transpired.

With a soft smile, you squeeze his hand back, feeling a rush of gratitude for his unwavering love and support. "I know, Jaeyun. And I love you too. More than you'll ever know," you reply, your voice filled with affection. 

Jaeyun leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before releasing your hand. "Let's go join the others, if they’re anything like me then they’re literally dying to see you.”

Walking into the room, you notice Jongseong entering through the back garden almost simultaneously with you and Jaeyun. His presence halts you all to a stop, and a warm smile spreads across your face, reaching your ears.

"Princess," Jongseong greets you, setting down the shears in his hand before striding briskly toward you. His arms open wide as he approaches, and before you know it, he's lifting you up and spinning you around, eliciting a delighted giggle from your lips.

"Hi, Jongseong," you greet him warmly, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. There's a sense of joy and ease in his presence that never fails to lift your spirits. Throughout your time in the mansion, he was always your backbone to getting through it, living up to his guardian angel ways.

As Jongseong sets you back down, your curious gaze sweeps over his attire. "What's with the new look?" you ask quizzically, noting the departure from his usual casual clothes. He's sporting dark green overalls, stained with mud and grass, paired with a black slouch t-shirt underneath, and gardening gloves.

Jongseong spins around, giving you a full view of the outfit before bursting into laughter. Soonyeol tucks under his arm, hugging him from the side and running her hand over his broad chest.

You can’t help but wonder if Jongseong ever told her about your night on the altar, or the one in the kitchen, or the countless ones on her bed. But by the way she's acting, it seems she remains oblivious to it all. For now, you'll let her live in ignorance, choosing not to disrupt the peace.

“Jjongie suggested it,” Soonyeol explains, looking up at him with an adoring stare.

"Yeah, wouldn't want someone to prick a finger or anything on the thorns now, do we?" Jongseong's voice carries a playful tone as he makes jabs at your past experiences with the garden.

Since your departure, he's come to realise that there's so much more to life that Soonyeol could be enjoying. Heeseung may have provided her with all the material comforts and companions she desires, but Jongseong knows that true fulfilment goes beyond mere possessions and superficial fantasies. He saw it in you - someone with everything the big city life could offer, yet still yearning for more.

So, he's been spending more time with Soonyeol, teaching her to play instruments and nurturing her interest in gardening. And with Jaeyun no longer by her side like a clingy pup, her schedule has opened right up, leaving more time for Jongseong to show her the joys of a fuller, more enriched life.

Jaeyun absentmindedly rubs his thumb over your once-pricked finger, as if Jongseong mentioning it might cause you to feel the pain again. You can't help but smile at his gesture of concern. It's a small yet meaningful reminder of his caring nature, his instinct to comfort you even in the most subtle of ways.

“Jaeyun can help me actually, I have some rubble to take around to the bins if you could help me?” Jongseong suggests.

"Sure thing, Jongseong," Jaeyun replies eagerly, ever willing to lend a hand. "Lead the way."

With a nod from Jongseong, the two of them head off to tackle the task at hand, leaving you momentarily alone in the living room with Soonyeol. It's not that you don't get along with her - she's been more than welcoming to you in her home - but it's still strange to be left alone with her, unsure of what she knows about your relationship with the boys or what transpired while she was gone.

You grab Jaeyun’s suitcase and hold it next to yours, “I’ll go put these away and come through,” you smile politely, trying to avoid being in a one-on-one conversation with Soonyeol just in case you talk about how big Jongseong’s cock is and how you felt it jump when he picked you up.

"I can get one of the other boys to do that," she offers kindly, but you decline, shaking your head. "Well, Jaeyun's room is all set up if you want to set up camp there."

"Thanks, Soonyeol. I appreciate it," you reply, grateful for her understanding. With that, you make a hasty exit, eager to avoid any potentially awkward conversations for now.

_____

On your way to the room, you make a tiny little detour. Should you, considering every time you linger in places you aren’t meant to be, you end up in peculiar situations? No. Did you, because each of those peculiar situations has made you feel alive and there’s no scaring you anymore? Of course.

Standing outside the library, you twist the creaking knob and push the door open slowly. The familiar smell of old books fills your nostrils, and a sense of nostalgia washes over you. It's been a while since you've been in here, and you can't help but feel drawn to the rows of dusty bookshelves, each one holding countless stories and secrets within its pages.

Sighing quietly, you step inside, letting the essence of the library envelop you. Despite the risks, there's something about this place that calls to you, beckoning you to explore its hidden treasures once more.

Perhaps it’s the literal phone to hell that brought you here first of all places in the house.

You glance over at the painting of the sheep, its head firmly back on its human shoulders but despite seeing it countless times and being fucked mercilessly on the other side of the door it shields, you can’t help but still feel some distress. It is so easy to forget about its existence when it isn’t staring back at you. 

You find yourself drawn to it, despite your better judgement. There's something about the way it seems to watch you, its eyes following your every move, that fills you with a sense of unease. You can't quite pinpoint which part of your body is drawn to coming back to it, but you hate it all the same.

“There’s still time to change your mind.”

That siren voice pierces your ears, instantly sending a shiver down your spine. Tension coils in your muscles as you recognise the voice, its allure tinged with an undercurrent of danger.

Turning slowly, you come face to face with the source of the voice, and your breath catches in your throat as you see Heeseung smirking before you. His lips glisten as he licks them, his eyes roaming all over your body with an intensity that makes you feel as though you might as well be naked.

His gaze pierces through you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. There's something about the way he looks at you, a hunger in his eyes that sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You swallow hard, trying to regain your composure in the face of his intense scrutiny. Despite the unease that grips you, a part of you can't deny the pull of his magnetic presence, drawing you in despite knowing better. He just has something about him that you can’t shake from your soul, like he has some weird grip on you.

With a forced calmness, you meet his gaze head-on, determined not to let him see the fear that churns within you. "Hi, Heeseung," you reply evenly, keeping your tone steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.

"Hi, baby. You miss me?" he asks, his voice low and seductive as he snakes towards you with deliberate steps.

You fight the urge to succumb to his magnetic presence, to fall to your knees and let him use you as he pleases. Instead, you stand your ground, ignoring the way your spine quakes with each of his measured steps.

"You know you're tempting fate by coming back here," Heeseung says, his eyebrow raised knowingly.

His observation cuts through the air like a knife, striking a chord of truth deep within you. There's no denying the danger that lurks within the walls of this mansion, especially when it comes to Heeseung himself. The Prince of Hell was once ready to offer you everything you desired in exchange for Soonyeol's existence, and you were dangerously close to accepting.

That's the trouble with Heeseung—he always seems to know what you want, even when you try to convince yourself otherwise. Deep down, a part of you still yearns for the life he could offer you, the power and influence that come with being by his side. But you have Jaeyun now and you’re happier than ever to come home to someone who loves you more than the trees love to blow in the wind. 

"I came here because Jaeyun wanted to, not for you," you argue back, mustering all the confidence you can fake as you fix your posture.

"My sweet baby," Heeseung tuts, closing the distance between your bodies with a smoothness that makes your heart race. It's as if you're two steps away from embarking on a lovers' tango. He reaches out, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him dead in the eyes. "Are you saying you didn't miss us?" he asks, his voice low and seductive, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Of course, you missed them - all of them. But the way you missed Jongseong and Sunghoon is vastly different from the way you missed Heeseung. With Jongseong and Sunghoon, it's a deep, heartfelt longing, born out of adoration and connection. But with Heeseung, it's different - it's a craving, an addiction to the thrill of his touch and the excitement he brings to your life with a mere snap of his fingers.

You can never admit that to him, though. The truth would only complicate things further, and you've worked too hard to suppress the nightly urges to pray to him and have him sweep you away. So you keep your lips sealed and push away any thoughts connecting to the matter.

Your silence only fuels Heeseung more, the once gentle grip he had on your chin now tightening to lock you onto him. “I think about that day you snuck into my room. How you were whimpering like a dog in heat,” he ridicules, leaning dangerously close so his lips are ghosting over yours, “Do you remember? You were grinding yourself on my foot like a pathetic little bitch.”

The humiliation washes over you in waves, threatening to drown you in its wake. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your body betraying you with its response to his words. Why are you getting wet over this? It's humiliating, degrading, and pride-destroying, yet you can't deny the visceral arousal coursing through your veins.

You're on the edge, teetering dangerously close to surrendering to the desire that simmers between you and Heeseung. Part of you wants to mewl out and ask him to do it again, to succumb to the intoxicating pull of his dominance. But another part of you - the part that still clings to the fragile threads of self-respect - fights against it, struggling to maintain some semblance of control in the face of his overwhelming presence.

Before you can say another word or do anything you will live to regret, you feel someone standing at the door.

“Heeseung, Soonyeol is asking for you,” Sunghoon’s deep voice rings out like a bell of relief.

Quickly regaining your composure, you take a step back, putting some distance between yourself and the lingering echoes of your encounter with Heeseung. Sunghoon's accidental interruption may have saved you from making a decision you would regret, and for that, you're grateful.

But while you're relieved, Heeseung is clearly disgruntled. An annoyed groan escapes his lips as he rolls his eyes, his frustration is evident in his demeanour. He knows how close you were to giving in, and if he had just a sliver more time with you, he might have ensnared you like a Venus flytrap.

With a curt nod, Heeseung heads towards the door, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room. But before he leaves, he turns his head to look back at you, his eyes piercing and intense.

"My offer is still on the table, baby," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and determination. "Come find me."

His words hang in the air like a tantalising invitation, tempting you with the promise of fulfilling your deep-rooted desires.

Sunghoon clears his throat, his gentle smile a reassuring beacon in the midst of Heeseung's lingering presence. "Did you forget where the bedrooms are in your time away?" he quips, his tone light yet mindful of the heavy atmosphere.

You manage a small chuckle, grateful for the diversion. "No, just got a little sidetracked," you reply, appreciating Sunghoon's effort to ease the tension. You won’t go into detail about how you were seeking out the altar on some nostalgia tour.

Just as you're about to speak, Sunghoon smoothly takes hold of the two pieces of luggage and begins to stride towards Jaeyun's room.

"I see that snooping habit of yours is still alive and well," Sunghoon remarks, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you, his tone playful.

You hum softly in acknowledgement, unable to deny the truth in his jest. Glancing around, you admire the porcelain dolls that line the hallway, their delicate features and intricate dresses catching your eye. They are so beautiful that you wonder how on earth anyone could be scared of them or find them haunting.

Sunghoon follows your gaze, his own eyes softening as he looks at the dolls you're fondly staring at. "They've missed you," he comments, his voice filled with a hint of nostalgia.

"I missed them too," you admit with a wistful smile, your fingers grazing the smooth surface of one of the dolls as you walk.

Sunghoon's playful demeanour turns gentle at your confession, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "I'm sure they're glad to have you back," he replies, his voice carrying a note of sincerity, “I know I am.”

His admission brings your attention back to him, but his stare quickly averts, darting around the corridor as if looking for an escape from your piercing gaze.

Moments like this are subtle with Sunghoon, he isn’t quite ready to be vulnerable but you know under the demonic persona that harbours his entity, there is a kindness to him. In your time here, you didn’t see it often, typically during the post-orgasm bliss or when you needed a bit of reassurance, but in those times his vulnerability lasted just long enough to seep through.

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon's admission, the playful banter lifting the tension that had lingered. Lightly jabbing his shoulder, you tease, "Did you miss me that much?"

Sunghoon's chuckle is warm and genuine, a sound that fills the hallway with a sense of ease. He nods in response, his gaze still fixed ahead, as if he's unwilling to meet your eyes. "A lot, more than I thought I would, baby girl," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. Despite his attempts to mask it, you can sense his words hold a strong susceptivity that he's not quite ready to fully embrace.

But you understand. Because you feel the same way.

“I missed you too, Sunghoon,” you murmur, your voice filled with the same quiet genuine feelings. Sometimes there is no need for loud, grand declaring gestures of fondness, sometimes it’s as simple as saying your feelings out loud.

Reaching Jaeyun’s room, Sunghoon halts, setting your suitcases down with care. "Here's where you get off, in every sense of the phrase," he quips with a playful smirk and a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. 

Your cheeks flare with a crimson hue as embarrassment floods through you, a groan escaping your lips at his suggestive remark. Truth be told, nobody's fooling themselves about you and Jaeyun - your intimate escapades are hardly a secret. Mia's blunt commentary hasn't let you forget it either, threatening noise complaints with each ‘Fuck, Jaeyun, you look so pretty sucked into my pussy like that’.

Sunghoon's hand gently cups your cheek, his lips pressing tenderly against your forehead. His gesture catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned. You're now with Jaeyun, and the sudden affection feels awkward, though undeniably stirring. You feel yourself at melting point as you succumb to his touch so easily.

You hadn’t spoken to Jaeyun about any of this, to be fair, you hadn’t imagined any of the dolls would care about you in this way now that Soonyeol was back, knowing their bond with her was much stronger than the one with you. You’ve silently asked Jaeyun not to go back to Soonyeol and that means in any form, which is probably why you feel so guilty because, in the past 20 minutes, you’ve wanted to jump on two out of three of his brothers’ bones.

Sunghoon's gaze meets yours, and he senses the rapid thumping of your heart, understanding instantly why you're so uneasy. With a gentle clearing of his throat, he withdraws from you.

"Sorry, force of habit," he confesses, his tone filled with remorse. Yet, it's a habit he shouldn't have slipped back into so effortlessly, yet it felt like breathing; as if touching you was his birthright.

You wave off his apology, understanding that his intentions were never malicious. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you know Sunghoon's actions stemmed from familiarity rather than any ill intent towards you and Jaeyun’s relationship.

He shared you with the other doll for so long that these things can easily skip his mind.

Inhaling sharply, he nods, “Soonyeol wants us all around the table for dinner, something about lasagna she found in the freezer.”

_____

After dinner, you find yourselves nestled comfortably in the living room, enveloped by the warmth of the crackling fire and the gentle hum of conversation. Soft melodies drift through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the group. 

You observe with a sense of contentment as the dolls and Soonyeol engage in lively discussion, their interactions filled with genuine interest and respect. There's a certain harmony to their dynamic, a shared understanding that speaks volumes about their bond.

It occurs to you that this must have been the essence of their existence before you entered the picture - the simple joy of companionship, the comfort of having each other's company. And while your presence may have altered the dynamics in some ways, tonight, surrounded by their collective warmth, you can't help but appreciate the beauty of their unity.

You don’t regret having Jaeyun by your side but his hearty laughter at Jongseong’s terrible jokes or playful pouts towards Sunghoon as he gets teased only make you wonder if you made the right choice.

You can't help but notice the intimate scene unfolding between Soonyeol and Heeseung, their easy familiarity and tender gestures speaking volumes. As Soonyeol recounts her childhood mishap, Heeseung's touch becomes a silent reassurance, his hand tracing soothing patterns along her arm while offering gentle squeezes of support whenever she mentions moments of pain.

Their relationship is a puzzle to you - a blend of affection and care. Soonyeol's adoration for Heeseung is evident in the way her eyes light up when she's near him, reaching for his hand with a longing that mirrors your own gestures of comfort with Jaeyun. And Heeseung, in turn, showers her with gestures of kindness and devotion, his actions speaking volumes about the depth of his feelings.

Yet, he is still posing the offer to get rid of her for you to stay. No person in love would give their partner up so easily.

Jaeyun interrupts your thoughts as he starts up his Switch, the melody drawing your attention away from the complicated couple. He begins to show Jongseong the wonders of technology even though Jongseong has lived long enough to know what a gaming console is and what its purposes are. But as always, he lets Jaeyun yap away and acts clueless.

Glancing at the clock, you realise it's already 10pm, and the exhaustion from the day's long drive begins to weigh on you. Your social battery, already running low, signals that it's time for some much-needed rest.

"I'm going to head to bed," you announce softly, taking advantage of the momentary lull in the conversation.

Jaeyun's gaze shifts to you, his expression momentarily puzzled before softening with understanding as he notices your fatigue. It’s so refreshing to have a man care about you the way Jaeyun does, you almost don’t understand how at one point, a boy with his personality was just walking around and existing as a human. You understand why he was chosen to be an angel.

Puckering his lips playfully, Jaeyun leans in expectantly, silently requesting a goodnight kiss. Without hesitation, you lean in beside him, meeting his lips with tenderness. As your mouths meet, a gentle murmur escapes him, barely audible against your lips. "I'll come through in a bit," he suggests softly.

You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's okay, baby. Spend some time with everyone," you murmur in return, nudging your nose against his affectionately. He gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you're sure, to which you simply nod in reassurance.

"Okay, I love you," he smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his affection as he bids you goodnight.

"Love you too," you reply softly, your heart swelling as you reciprocate his affectionate words. With a lingering gaze, you reluctantly pull away from Jaeyun's embrace, a fond smile gracing your lips as you whisper your goodnight.

Turning to the rest of the group, you offer a warm farewell, exchanging nods and smiles before excusing yourself from the cosy gathering. As you make your way down the hallway to your bedroom, the soft glow of the dimmed lights casts a tranquil ambience, enveloping you in a sense of calm.

The gentle padding of your footsteps echoes through the hallway, accompanied by the occasional crackle of the fire in the living room. Each step brings you closer to the comfort of your own space, where you can finally unwind and recharge after the day's events.

You enter the room and head straight for your case, opening it to rummage around for the pyjamas you packed. Unlike your doll spouse, you packed only the essentials, that being Jaeyun’s oversized t-shirt and some underwear. You still don’t understand why he would bring a full set of plaid pyjamas when he always sleeps in his boxers anyway.

Your fingers pause in their search as you hear the soft knock on the already slightly ajar door. Swiftly turning around, panties in hand, you're met with the sight of Sunghoon standing there, holding a cup of water in his hands, his eyes lingering on the pink underwear you're holding.

"Those are my favourite," he remarks, tilting his head to nod at the delicate garment dangling from your finger, his tone laced with playful mischief.

You quickly shove the panties back into your case, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the moment. It's silly to feel bashful around Sunghoon - he's seen every pair you own, every part of you laid bare - he's even seen your period pants, and those are definitely not a pretty sight.

Sunghoon chuckles at your antics, choosing to ignore the urge to tease you about your now beetroot face. Holding the glass of water up to catch your sight he walks into your room. “Here, thought you could use some water. It’s been hot as hell at nighttime these days.”

You nod appreciatively, touched by his consideration, as he places the glass on your bedside table. As he turns back to you, you meet his gaze, silently exchanging stares. He’s grown a little softer since you last saw him. You don’t know if it’s just your imagination or the lighting, but his eyes look less cold and that black cloud that followed him around is a faded shade of grey.

Instead of leaving, he just stays put as if he wishes to speak to you about something but he doesn’t have the courage to. It’s ironic considering he’s a demon from the underworld and you’re just a girl, yet, he looks slightly scared of you. It’s such a juxtaposition to a few months ago that you wonder what transpired here after you left.

You decide to at least make some conversation to fill the silence, “How has it been here? I bet you’re all having a great time now that there is one less doll to fight for Soonyeol’s attention,” you jab teasingly, smiling softly.

He gives you a soft pity laugh, one that someone gives when the other couldn’t be more wrong in their assumptions. “It’s pretty much the same,” he shrugs, stepping closer to you, his demeanour shifting, anguish bubbling under the surface slightly. “She mushes over Heeseung and Jongseong, they go about their business.”

“And you?”

“I’m…here,” he breathes out, dejection laced within his tone.

Sunghoon settles onto the edge of your bed, clasping his hands together, and you can't help but feel a pang of concern for him. His internal struggle is evident, and you wonder if he's wrestling with something he's hesitant to share. Never once you’ve seen him look so human, his normal cold exterior could give you ice burn, so this is new territory for both of you.

With a soft sigh, Sunghoon finally starts to speak. It's clear he's grappling with whether to open up or keep his thoughts to himself. “You know, it never used to bother me, being the last choice or even just a choice for that matter. I got what I wanted, I was content with everything.”

Sunghoon's words hang in the air, heavy with a sense of resignation. You listen quietly, sensing the weight of his thoughts as he navigates the complexities of them. This has to be difficult for him considering demons aren’t known for heart-to-hearts, so you want to give him the respect he deserves and take in his thoughts.

"I didn’t care because I don’t think I’ve felt anything for a long time," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "The past however many years down there, and the almost five years here, I just didn’t feel a thing. No happiness, no sadness, no fucking thing at all." 

His words sit heavily in your heart, and you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him rather. You can understand having a lot of emotions at once but if he hasn’t felt them in years, he might as well be laying down in a stampede of turmoil.

He chuckles darkly and shakes his head, grasping the heaviness of the situation as he says it out loud for the first time. “When I was working as a soldier under Dis, it was like I had to switch them off to survive. I couldn’t keep any humane aspect of me because it would kill me to know that I was doing all these cruel and monstrous things.”

His words paint a vivid picture of the internal battle he's waged for survival, forced to suppress his humanity in order to endure the atrocities he was compelled to commit, the experience surrendering him to his demon ways. It's a harrowing revelation, one that leaves you grappling with the enormity of his suffering. 

Sunghoon's words challenge your preconceived notions about demons, forcing you to reconsider your assumptions about their nature. While you once believed that demons took pride in their wrongdoings and found pleasure in the pain of others, Sunghoon's experience suggests otherwise. Perhaps some demons are simply products of their environment, forced to adapt to survive in a world that demands cruelty and brutality.

As you reflect on Sunghoon's past and his evident lack of joy in his actions, you begin to question whether he truly belongs in the same category as the demons you once feared. Maybe he wasn't a bad guy at all, just someone who was given the wrong end of the deal. While he may not have been saintly enough to earn a place in heaven, he also doesn't seem to fit the mould of a typical demon.

The realisation dawns on you that perhaps Sunghoon defies easy categorisation, existing in a grey area between good and evil. Surely, in the universe you inhabit, with its myriad mystical creatures - demons, angels, goblins, and humans alike - there must be an understanding that no one person is entirely pure or wholly evil.

"I turned up, did my job, rinse and repeat, you know? And killing people, well, that was one thing, but the torture of people who didn’t even deserve it, or the…" he swallows harshly, as if suppressing the disgust that bubbles from his guilt, struggling to admit anything else he partook in, "I did all that, with no bat of an eye for so fucking long."

His admission is raw and unfiltered, laying bare the depths of his remorse and the internal struggle he's faced. It's clear that he carries a heavy burden of guilt, grappling with his past life as a soldier.

For a moment, there's a palpable silence between you, the weight of his confession settling over the room like a thick fog. You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure of how to offer comfort or solace in the face of such profound suffering. This isn’t someone's cat dying, this is years of mental torture, and nothing you say can console that.

Grabbing his hand, you interlock your fingers with his. "You must have had something good inside of you to stand up against Dis though, to fight your way out of his legion," you offer softly, hoping to provide some semblance of comfort.

It may not be much, but you want Sunghoon to know that you see beyond his past, beyond the darkness that once consumed him. You want him to understand that whatever happened down there in the depths of hell, you won't judge him for it. His struggle and sacrifice to break free from that life, to reject the cruelty and injustice he was forced to perpetuate, speaks volumes about the strength of his character.

"Dis wants death to everything he didn’t create," he growls out, his tone dripping with contempt. "He was being greedy and started hurting fellow soldiers. It doesn’t take emotion to know that it was going to end in a be killed or die trying situation."

The memory of his fellow soldiers' bodies burning before him flashes vividly in his mind, and you can sense the torment in his voice as he relives those traumatic moments. He thinks about the countless times he was made to strike the match, being complicit in the horror that unfolded before his eyes, and the guilt weighs heavily on his conscience.

"That doesn’t make me a good person," he continues, his voice trembling with self-condemnation. "It makes me scum because I watched it for so long, turning a blind eye when I should have been doing anything at all to stop it."

His admission is gut-wrenching, laying bare the depths of his remorse and self-loathing. In that moment, you're overwhelmed by a profound sense of empathy for him, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort and support as he grapples with the demons of his past.

Sunghoon’s body trembles as all his emotions flood him, his entity unequipped to handle such a vast complexity. 

"Oh, Sunghoon," you murmur softly, your heart aching for him as you envelop him in a tight embrace, offering what comfort you can in this moment of vulnerability. You hold him close, rocking him gently as he grapples with the weight of his confession.

"I can't imagine how you're feeling," you continue, your voice filled with empathy and compassion. "No one ever will, and I wish I could take the pain away from everything that you're feeling."

Sunghoon nods in response, his gaze fixed on the ground as his eyes flicker between black and normal. You hold him tighter, silently offering your support and understanding as he processes the tumult of emotions swirling within him. At this moment, all you can do is be there for him, a source of solace amid his inner turmoil.

Pushing you away gently, Sunghoon finally looks at you, his gaze searching your eyes for understanding. When he sees the genuine sympathy reflected in your gaze, he relaxes slightly, a sense of relief washing over him.

"I think you brought my humanity back," he confesses, his thumb stroking your hand to comfort you as if you were the one who just had vivid flashbacks to the worst moments of your life and not him.

You tilt your head in confusion, your brows furrowing. His light laughter at your concerned expression eases the tension slightly, but you're still puzzled by his words. 

"It's not a bad thing, baby girl, don't worry," Sunghoon reassures you, his tone gentle as he seeks to alleviate any concerns you may have. But there's a determination in his eyes as he continues, a resolve to confront the turmoil within him head-on.

"Yes, I'm going to have to work through whatever the fuck trauma I have because there are so many negative feelings right now," he admits, his voice tinged with resignation. "But you, fuck, you made me experience all the good ones again."

His words catch you off guard, a surge of emotion welling up within you as you realise the impact you've had on him. Despite the darkness of his past and the challenges that lie ahead, there's a glimmer of hope in his words. “You have done something that Soonyeol couldn’t do, something I couldn’t even do for myself.” 

Reaching his hand up, he cradles your face just like earlier, this time rather than instinct, it’s purposeful, to ease you into his next bout of words. “When you were here, I knew I wanted you around all the time. At first, I thought it was just because I was bored and you were there.”

Ouch. 

He sees your wince at his brutal honesty, and his eyes widen in realisation. "Oh god, baby girl, no, no no," he exclaims, his other hand reaching out now to cup both your cheeks as he shakes his head fervently. He rolls his eyes at his own passing comment, recognising that it's probably the last thing you want to hear.

"I don’t mean it like that," he clarifies quickly, his voice laced with urgency. "I mean, I stopped thinking like that after a few weeks in. I felt warmth for the first time in so long that I thought Dis had found me and I was being dragged back to hell with how warm it was."

You grasp his hands, gently pulling them away from your face as you listen intently to his words. You haven’t said much, but there's nothing to say right now. You can't interrupt him while he's pouring his heart out to you. Instead, you offer him your unwavering support, silently conveying your understanding and acceptance as he shares his innermost thoughts and feelings with you.

Once he sees that you’re no longer offended by his words, he continues, “When you left, I tried to turn it off, longing for you the way I did. I thought you would never come back so I tried to shut the pain out, but somehow it only made every feeling and memory I had suppressed come to the front of my mind, I missed you as soon as you drove off that day, and I miss you even more now that you’re sitting in front of me.”

“Sunghoon, you don’t have to miss me when I’m right here.”

“But you’ll never be mine. Jaeyun is your soulmate, how the fuck am I supposed to compete with that?” he asks softly, laughing away his anguish. He is trying to hide it but you can see this is as painful to him as reliving those memories. You didn’t realise the hold you had on him or how leaving would affect him.

In all honesty, you thought that with Soonyeol back, the other boys wouldn’t need you at all. Heeseung can say he wants you but that’s in no way the same way that Jaeyun wants you, the way Sunghoon clearly wants you. 

You had missed the acts of care he performed for you, the aftercare becoming more loving as the weeks passed, how he would spend the night in your bed and cuddle despite his inability to sleep. He did all of this for you because…

"Whatever love feels like, I think this is as close as I am capable of feeling," Sunghoon confesses, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Hooni-"

"I know, you have Jaeyun and we can’t share anymore, but I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me," he interrupts gently, his words filled with gratitude.

"We could."

You hear a voice in the doorway, and as you turn to face it, you see Jaeyun standing awkwardly, his eyes shifting between you and Sunghoon.

Removing yourself from Sunghoon's embrace, you're acutely aware of the situation's delicate nature. Jaeyun must have been standing there for a while, silently witnessing his brother's confession to you.

Sunghoon's expression tightens, a mixture of surprise and apprehension crossing his features as he exchanges a hesitant glance with Jaeyun. It's clear that he hadn't anticipated Jaeyun's sudden appearance, and the tension in the room thickens with his presence.

For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words lingering between the three of you. As you search for the right words to break the awkwardness, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the situation you find yourself in.

Jaeyun offers a small smile, his eyes softening with understanding. "We could share again, like before," he suggests gently.

Sunghoon shakes his head, his expression sombre. "Jaeyun, we can't. It's different now that you're both in a relationship," he explains, his voice tinged with regret. "Look, I didn't come in here to get in between you both. I just wanted you to know how I felt. I think maybe saying it out loud could help me process it all a little better," he confesses, his gaze shifting between you and Jaeyun.

"You love Y/N, I love her too," he begins, his voice calm yet resolute. "I think as her partner, I want her to experience love from every person she can receive it."

His words are met with a moment of contemplative silence, the weight of his proposition sinking in. Sunghoon's expression softens, a flicker of gratitude and relief crossing his features as he processes Jaeyun's unexpected response.

"Baby doll, relationships don’t work that way, I mean they can but not ours," you murmur softly, the words tumbling out as you try to make sense of the situation.

But Jaeyun's next question catches you off guard, causing you to pause and consider his words carefully. "You love him too, do you not?" he asks, his gaze steady as he waits for your response, no judgment in his tone.

Do you love Sunghoon?

There’s no denying there is something there between you both, but you never gave into it once you found out he was a demon, knowing that you already make bad enough choices with men nevermind falling for an evil entity - the men you’ve swiped on tinder are demonic enough.

But you know now that he isn’t evil. In no way is he a saint but who is? He’s been labelled evil yet as you stare at him, you see nothing but a bright soul staring back at you. You have feelings for him, those could be love if you open up your heart to him rather than closing it away.

You look into Sunghoon’s eyes and realise, there’s only one organ in your body that you should listen to, and it thumps so easily for Sunghoon.

"Yes," you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love him."

The admission hangs in the air, the weight of it settling over the room like a gentle breeze. In that moment, you feel a sense of clarity and certainty wash over you. 

Despite the happiness within your chest at the words finally leaving your lips, you worry about Jaeyun’s reaction to your words. Yet, when you look at him, your pretty doll is smiling widely, walking over to you both. Jaeyun's smile is radiant, his eyes alight with genuine happiness as he approaches. There's a warmth in his expression that fills you with a sense of reassurance as if he's silently affirming his acceptance and support.

“Then let’s do it. Sunghoon, you’ll love it in the city, there is so much to do and see. There are so many things to take pictures of, and they have indoor ice rinks, can you believe it? You don’t even need to wait until the lake freezes over in the winter to skate!”

Jaeyun’s excitement fills the air, any tension from Sunghoon’s past revelations or his loving confession is now swept to the side due to your boyfriend’s happiness. He’s one in a million because what other man could hear their best friend and girlfriend confessing love to one another and be thrilled about the prospect of a throuple?

Sunghoon smiles but shakes his head, “I can’t come with you, Jaeyun. Heeseung would never let me go. Plus, Soonyeol already had a hard time when you left, I can’t do that to her.”

"You mean the same Soonyeol who doesn’t pay attention to you anymore?" you inquire, your words cutting through the tension with brutal honesty. It's a difficult question to ask, but one that needs to be addressed.

Sunghoon's expression tightens at your blunt assessment, a flicker of pain crossing his features before he composes himself.

"What would the old you do? Not this Sunghoon, the one just before I arrived here?" you press, your voice gentle yet insistent.

He ponders your question, his gaze falling to the ground as he delves deep into his thoughts. After a moment of silence, he speaks, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I would have... done what I wanted."

"And what do you want?" Jaeyun prompts.

Sunghoon hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours for guidance. Then, with a sense of resolve, he confesses, "I want to come with you." His words hang in the air, a tangible declaration of his desires and aspirations. In that moment, you can feel the weight of his longing, his yearning for something more than the confines of his current existence. “It’s not that easy though.”

“Forget about all that, just follow your emotions for now," you say with a fond smile, urging Sunghoon to trust in his instincts. "What are they saying to you?"

“That I should kiss you.”

Your gaze flickers to Jaeyun, whose grin speaks volumes, his eyes filled with understanding. With a quick nod of agreement from your boyfriend, you return your attention to Sunghoon, who appears rigid and apprehensive, fearing he may have been too honest in his confession and jeopardised his chances.

Perhaps he should have expressed the deep-seated desire for freedom that has been gnawing at him. Heeseung had painted a picture of independence, free from rules and authority, a dream Sunghoon longed to pursue. But trapped within the confines of the mansion, he realises he's merely exchanged one form of captivity for another.

Was it as brutal as Dis? Not in any shape or form, but as long as Heeseung reigns over this mansion, Sunghoon might as well be back in the cell.

Sunghoon feels stifled, yearning for the freedom to chart his own course. In the months since you've been apart, he's come to understand that true freedom isn't just about evading control; it's about embracing the power to shape his own destiny. This isn’t the life he needs.

He needs a life with you.

Once you see his eyes soften, you know whatever turmoil is raging in his head is subsiding, giving you the opening to reach out and touch his face, providing any reassurance that you can. 

Looking into Sunghoon's eyes, you see a beautiful flicker of humanity, and you know that no matter what happens, you need to do everything in your power to help him leave the confines of this house.

Kissing your palm, Sunghoon closes his eyes and trails his lips up your arm, leaving a path of tender kisses. His touch is so gentle, so unlike his usual intensity, that your body melts under his love. You're acutely aware of how special this moment is, knowing that very few have ever experienced this side of him.

He shuffles closer to you on the bed, continuing his path along your shoulder and up your neck. He sucks softly and swiftly over your tender spot, eliciting a small whimper from you. It's been so long since Sunghoon touched you that his lips had become a distant memory. Yet for him, these kisses and caresses are second nature; he hasn’t stopped thinking about you or your preferences since you left.

Having spent so much time together, Sunghoon learned everything there is to know about you. He discovered your pleasure points, memorised your likes and dislikes, and committed them to memory. Even when he touched himself at night or shared fleeting moments with Soonyeol, it was you he thought about. His body instinctively moved to please you, even if it was another woman beneath him.

He wonders if that's why Soonyeol has become more distant. Perhaps she senses the difference, noticing how his movements lack the passion he reserves for his memories of you. Her body, as much as he might try to please her, is incomparable to yours in his mind.

Sunghoon's kisses grow more fervent, his hands roaming your body as if he's trying to memorize every curve and contour. You respond in kind, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. The connection between you is electric, a mixture of longing and hope that fuels your determination to free him.

"Let me have you," he whispers against your skin, his voice filled with vulnerability and desperation. "Even if it’s just for tonight."

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart aching at the raw emotion you see within him. “I’ll do everything I can to hold you forever, Hoonie,” you whisper tenderly, hoping your words convey the sincerity of your heart.

He closes the space between you, his mouth enveloping yours with such desire that it takes your breath away. His tongue wraps around yours as his hands grip your waist, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. The kiss is hot, making your whole body feel like it's on fire, your lips plumping with each lick and suck from Sunghoon. He loves the taste of you more than anything.

His hands slide under your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. You arch into his touch, feeling the intensity of his desire matching your own. Every movement, every caress, is filled with a desperate need to hold onto this moment, to make it last as long as possible.

Sunghoon's lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck, his breath warm and tantalising against your skin. You tilt your head back, giving him better access as he continues his path, his hands now exploring the curves of your hips and thighs.

Your fingers tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. You run your hands over his toned chest. He groans softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he returns his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

Jaeyun observes you both lose yourselves in each other, his hand subconsciously reaching for his clothed cock, palming himself for some relief. Although your back is facing him, the noises escaping your mouth are enough to tell him that you’re enjoying yourself. Every moan, every gasp, sends shivers down his spine and fuels his own arousal.

The sight of Sunghoon devouring you with his kisses, the way your bodies move together with such desperate passion, it’s all too much for Jaeyun to handle. He bites his lip, trying to suppress the groan building in his throat as his hand moves with more urgency.

Sunghoon's hands roam your body with a fervour that speaks of months of pent-up desire. He caresses your sides, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. His mouth travels from your lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, burning kisses that make you shiver.

You arch your back, pressing closer to Sunghoon, your breath hitching with each touch. Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging gently, eliciting a deep groan from him. The sound reverberates through your body, intensifying the pleasure coursing through you.

Jaeyun's eyes hood over, fixed on the way Sunghoon's hands knead your flesh, the way your body responds to every touch, every kiss. He can see the way Sunghoon's tongue glides along your collarbone, the way your skin flushes under his attention.

The room fills with the sounds of your shared desire, creating an intoxicating symphony that pushes Jaeyun closer to the edge. He can't tear his eyes away from you, can't stop the rhythm of his hand as he imagines being part of this heated exchange.

Sunghoon’s kisses grow more intense, his hands exploring the soft skin beneath your shirt. He cups your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples over your bra, drawing a sharp gasp from you. You press into him, craving more, and he responds by capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

Jaeyun's breath catches in his throat as he watches, his own desire building to a fever pitch. He longs to join you, to feel your touch, to lose himself in the shared heat of your bodies. He wishes there was a way to indulge in your session and give you just as much pleasure as Sunghoon is.

Noticing his friend's act of arousal, Sunghoon’s eyes flicker to Jaeyun’s crotch where the hard outline of his dick strains against his trousers. Jaeyun’s hand moves faster, dipping below the waistband in a futile attempt to find relief. It’s not fair to leave him out, especially considering it’s with his consent that you and Sunghoon can divulge like this, offering to share you is an act of love. Sunghoon would be cruel to leave him out.

“Jaeyun, come here,” Sunghoon commands, his voice husky and filled with an unspoken promise.

Jaeyun hesitates for a moment, his eyes locking with yours when you turn around to look at him. You nod, a silent invitation that sends a thrill through him. Although Sunghoon is only kissing you, you looked so fucked out already that Jaeyun wonders if he could have the same effect.

Because you’ve only ever had sex with both of them separately, Jaeyun has never thought about how you are with Sunghoon. He has never been jealous, always willing to understand that what Sunghoon gives you is different from him, but seeing it in action is making him want to prove his worth.

Shifting slightly backwards on the bed, Sunghoon creates space for Jaeyun to join, his hold on your waist tightening. When you both situate yourself in the middle of the king-sized bed, Sunghoon bucks his hips up, drawing out a long moan from you. “I’m still in charge, got it?” he warns you playfully, biting at your bottom lip. He knows you take control of the situation with Jaeyun but there’s no way Sunghoon will let you do that now.

Quickly, you nod and peck his lips, “Anything you say, but go easy on him, yeah?” you ask, your eyes searching his for agreement. You love how rough Sunghoon is with you but Jaeyun doesn’t like to be degraded the way you do; it’s important that Jaeyun gets the reassurance he needs throughout the experience.

As Jaeyun climbs onto the bed, you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his cheek before pulling him into a deep, lingering kiss. The sensation of having both men so close, so eager, sends waves of pleasure through you.

Sunghoon’s hands continue their exploration, his touch firm and possessive, while Jaeyun’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer with a gentler touch. The three of you move together in a rhythm that feels both natural and intoxicating.

Sunghoon leans in, his lips brushing against Jaeyun’s ear. “Let’s make her feel everything she deserves. Don't be selfish, understand?” he murmurs, his voice a sultry promise. You never thought you would be so turned on by the affection shared between them. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel Jaeyun whine into your mouth at Sunghoon’s close proximity.

With a firm slap on your thigh, Sunghoon signals for you to climb off his lap, only for Jaeyun to smile and pull you closer to him. While you’re busy kissing your boyfriend, Sunghoon’s fingers dance up your back, unclasping your bra to let your tits bounce freely. He presses his chest to your back and starts to grasp your boobs roughly, tweaking and pulling at your sensitive nipples.

He leans his chin on your shoulder and licks a long strip up your neck before nibbling at your ear. “I want you to ride his face, baby girl, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

You draw back from Jaeyun’s lips, eyes widening as you process his words. Sunghoon’s intense stare sends shivers down your spine, and you feel a rush of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. 

Normally you would say no because you don’t want to suffocate your partner, scared that you’ll get so lost in pleasure that you will trap them down there and cut off their oxygen, their last memories being succumbed to your pussy. But they don’t breathe so there is not a percentage of a chance that your apprehensions could come true.

Jaeyun’s ears perk up, curious to how you will react. You aren’t one to receive head from him, opting to focus on his pleasure rather than your own when it comes to oral; the noises he makes are enough for you most of the time, plus, it’s his cock that is the real star of the show after all.

Sunghoon’s hands wrap around your wrists, bringing them to a stretch. “Keep them there or else I’ll need to tie you up. You don’t want that, do you?” he murmurs against your skin, his hands snaking down your arms, ghosting over your armpit to make you shiver. 

Of course, you don’t want that because then you can’t touch them, you can’t run your fingers through Jaeyun’s hair or grip onto Sunghoon’s back when he drives into you. Touching them was almost as good as the sex itself.

With a nod, Sunghoon plants a peck on your shoulder as a thank you for your cooperation, although he is a little sad he couldn’t tie up your pretty body so he can use you as he pleases. Another time, maybe.

“Jaeyun, take off your clothes,” he instructs his best friend who eagerly bounces off the bed, shedding his clothes quicker than you’ve ever seen him before. His cock bounces to attention as it finally has the chance to breathe, its tip already pink with arousal.

Grabbing the hem of your t-shirt, Sunghoon whisks it off your body along with your bra, leaving your tits on full display for Jaeyun to gawk at, licking his lips as he smiles widely. “Take her bottoms off.” 

Jaeyun nods, his eyes dark with desire. Together, they begin to undress you, their hands working in unison to remove your clothes with a mixture of urgency and reverence. Each touch, each kiss, ignites your skin, making you feel worshipped and adored.

As your clothes fall away, Jaeyun’s hands move to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples while Sunghoon’s mouth patterns kisses into your shouldblade. You arch into their touch, your body trembling with anticipation, your glistening cunt dripping onto the sheets.

Jaeyun lays down, eagerly awaiting your heat atop of his face, tongue already sticking out in preparation. He looks so much like a puppy waiting for his treat that you can’t help but pout and smile fondly at him. You bring your aching arms down and manouvre yourself into position, hovering above him. 

“If you want to stop at any point, baby doll, you just tap my leg, yeah?” you smile down at him in gratitude, even if it wasn’t his idea. He hardly registers your words and nods absentmindedly, too busy staring at your folds and thinking about that first sweet taste.

The moment your thighs encase his head, he eagerly latches onto your core, his tongue delving into your folds with fervour. He grips your thighs as he gets to work, sucking and licking you like a man starved of his favourite meal.

Sunghoon’s hands remain on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, his fingers pinching your nipples each time you move your hips, trying to match some sort of rhythm. The dual sensations make you moan, your body is ignited with sensations from all over. Jaeyun’s tongue works expertly, exploring every inch of your heat, while Sunghoon’s touch heightens your pleasure.

Sunghoon’s lips find your neck again, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Good girl,” he whispers, his voice dripping with approval. “Feel how much he loves pleasing you. You deserve all this attention, baby.”

Your hands grip the headboard for support as you move against Jaeyun’s mouth, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements. The room fills with the sounds of your moans, Jaeyun’s eager licks, and Sunghoon’s whispered praises.

Sunghoon retracts from you, allowing Jaeyun to indulge in his own devices as he strips down, his cock springing into action, already leaking at the sight of you getting lost in pleasure. It’s strange to see you from this angle, usually viewing your contorted face through his lashes as he looks up at you.

Pumping his cock with his right hand, Jaeyun’s jaw slackens as he relieves himself, momentarily losing focus on you, much to Sunghoon’s disapproval. “Jaeyun, if I see you touch your cock one more time, I’m going to chop it off,” he says harshly, leaving no room for argument. “This is for Y/N, not your selfish needs.”

Jaeyun immediately halts his movements, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and obedience. He quickly shifts his attention back to you, his hands returning to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he resumes his dedicated task of pleasuring you. His tongue works with renewed eagerness, each flick and nibble driving you closer to the edge.

Sunghoon's eyes darken with lust as he watches the scene before him. He steps closer, his cock inches from your face. The sight of his rigid length, combined with Jaeyun’s relentless tongue, sends a new wave of desire coursing through you. You can't help but lean forward, your lips parting as you take him into your mouth.

A low groan escapes Sunghoon's lips as you wrap your tongue around him, the salty taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva. He threads his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper, your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.

“That's it, baby,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. “Show me how much you want this.”

With Jaeyun’s mouth still working wonders between your legs and Sunghoon’s cock filling your mouth, you're completely overwhelmed by the sensations. Every nerve in your body feels alive, every touch magnified by the intensity of the moment.

Sunghoon’s grip tightens in your hair as he begins to thrust, his hips rocking in time with your movements. You moan around him, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure: your muffled moans, Jaeyun’s eager slurps, and Sunghoon’s low, primal groans.

Jaeyun's tongue delves deeper, his pace quickening as he feels you nearing the edge again. He wants to push you over, to make you shatter with pleasure. You grind against his face, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

"Are you close, baby?" Sunghoon's voice, strained with desire, cuts through the air, the sight of your cheeks hollowed and tears glistening in your eyes only intensifies his urgency.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

Sunghoon hears two mewling responses, surprising him. Looking down at Jaeyun’s cock, he sees it jumping in need, ready to explode at any moment. He can’t reprimand him considering your pussy does the same to him, bringing him to the brink of busting a nut, although, never has it been free-handed.

With a swift motion, Sunghoon pulls you off his cock, wiping away the mess around your mouth before offering you his thumb to suck on. "Let it go, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with need.

Despite Sunghoon stopping the abuse of your throat, Jaeyun redoubles his efforts, his tongue working tirelessly to bring you to the peak of pleasure. He can feel your body tensing, the telltale signs of your impending orgasm driving him to push harder. His nose rubs your clit as he works your hips to move faster, each time it hits, your whine out.

The sensations overwhelm you as you teeter on the brink, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. But Sunghoon's soft words and Jaeyun's skilled tongue prove to be too much, and with a final, desperate cry, you shatter into a million pieces, your release washing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.

As waves of ecstasy ripple through your body, you cling onto Sunghoon’s waist, gripping so tight that your knuckles turn white. Your muscles contract involuntarily as you ride out the intense pleasure. Sunghoon's grip on your hair tightens as he watches you unravel,  satisfaction evident in his eyes. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans of ecstasy as you come down from your high.

Jaeyun continues to lap at your sensitive folds, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes as he savours the taste of your release. His own arousal pulses through him and as he unlatches his mouth, he groans out, coming undone on his stomach completely hands-free, his cock dancing of its own accord.

You feel some of his cum hit your ass, his load shooting high up his body, causing you to peel away from Sunghoon and turn your head to look. It’s a beautiful sight, the white painting his toned tummy as his dick pulses in the aftermath. 

Sunghoon watches with a smirk, his own arousal fighting against the erotic display before him. As you climb off, he reaches out to stroke Jaeyun's cheek, his touch gentle and affectionate. "Well done, Jaeyun," he murmurs, his voice filled with pride.

As Jaeyun's climax subsides, he sinks into the bed, his cock flushed with exertion. You reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort and affection. The touches from both you and Sunghoon are more than he could ever ask for, the attention and affection he is receiving is beyond his wildest dreams. 

With a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks, Jaeyun turns to you, his voice slightly hoarse from his earlier moans. "Sorry about that," he mumbles, his eyes betraying his embarrassment. "I couldn't help myself."

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. "How about you make it up to her and help me clean her up?" he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jaeyun gets up and wipes his tummy with some tissues from the box at the side of your bed before making his way over to you, peeling some more tissues to wipe you down. But Sunghoon stops him, shaking his head.

You watch with curiosity as they exchange silent words, a private conversation unfolding between them. As you lay back, anticipation tingles through your body, wondering what their next move will be.

Their synchronised actions take you by surprise as both boys wear smug smiles, their eyes alight with mischief as they slide down the bed, positioning themselves between your thighs with confident ease.

“What are yo- Oh fuck,” you moan out loudly, legs instinctively spreading wider.

Your breath catches in your throat as their tongues begin to trace hot stripes up the cum-covered folds of your pussy. Their mouths work in perfect harmony, their tongues intertwining in a tantalizing dance, as they meticulously clean you up. Each stroke of their tongues sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you trembling and gasping for more, lost in the dizzying sensation of their dual ministrations. 

You arch your back, moaning in ecstasy as they skillfully coax another wave of arousal from deep within you. Their combined efforts leave you teetering on the edge of bliss, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their dual assault.

Sunghoon's nose brushes against Jaeyun's as they share a knowing smile, their shared goal evident in the way they work together to pleasure you. Their synchronised movements create a rhythm that mirrors the pounding of your heart, each flick of their tongues sending you soaring higher and higher towards the pinnacle of pleasure.

You don’t know how you got lucky enough to have two eager-to-please dolls swimming around in your cunt, but you need to thank whoever let you be born in this lifetime to experience it.

Unable to hold back any longer, you surrender to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, your second orgasm crashing over you. Your cries of rapture fill the room as you ride the pleasure, your body trembling in their grasp as they continue to worship you with their mouths.

So much for cleaning up.

Your chest is tight as you fight for breath, your climax so overwhelming it winded you. Sunghoon notices you struggle and pulls you up from the lying position. “Sit here for me, baby girl,” he whispers, kissing you long enough that some of your essence transfers from his lips to yours.

Reaching over, he picks up the water he brought in earlier, bringing it to your lips. “Drink some. We aren’t done with you yet.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you take the glass from him, grateful for the cool relief it offers. You take a few sips, letting the water soothe your parched throat as you try to steady your breathing. Jaeyun holds the cup with you as he sees you struggle, his touch is gentle as he supports you, his concern evident in the way he watches you with tender eyes.

Once you've had your fill, he sets the glass aside and pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. "Are you okay, Y/N?" he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nod weakly, leaning into his embrace as you take comfort in his warmth. Despite the intensity of your climax, you feel safe and loved in his arms, just as you always do.

“Should we stop? Y/N looks pretty exhausted,” Jaeyun looks to his friend, seeking guidance from him. Jaeyun isn’t one to go rough so he isn’t used to you looking so dishevelled and out of it. 

You’re just glad he didn’t witness you at the merciless hands of Heeseung.

Sunghoon shakes his head, “She’s a tough girl,” he begins, stroking your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch. “Plus, she’s never satisfied until that pretty little cunt is being filled with cock, isn’t that right baby?”  

You feel a blush spread across your cheeks at Sunghoon's words, but you can't deny the truth in them. Despite your exhaustion, there's a part of you that still craves more, that yearns for the feeling of being completely filled and consumed by pleasure.

Nodding slightly, you meet Sunghoon's gaze with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. "Yes," you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you, Sunghoon. I want both of you."

Sunghoon's eyes darken with desire at your words, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips possessively. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "We'll take care of you, baby. Just let us know if it's too much."

With a silent understanding of your needs and his concerns lightened slightly thanks to your words, Jaeyun moves to sit beside you, his eyes filled with longing as he watches Sunghoon's hands roam your body. You can feel the heat between the three of you, the anticipation building as you prepare for what's to come next.

“I want you on all fours for me, baby girl,” Sunghoon’s tone is back to his commanding self, taking charge of the situation once he knows you can handle more. 

Jaeyun pouts, looking at him in confusion, “I should get to go first, I’m her boyfriend after all.”

Scoffing, Sunghoon shakes his head definitely, “Not a chance in hell, Jaeyun. You’ve had her for three months, It’s my turn.”

Sunghoon's words hang heavy in the air, a clear declaration of his intent. Jaeyun's expression shifts from confusion to a mix of disappointment and frustration. He opens his mouth to argue, but Sunghoon cuts him off with a stern look.

"No, Jaeyun," Sunghoon says firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you what's going to fucking happen." That dominating side of Sunghoon still rearing its head when faced with protest

Jaeyun's shoulders tense at the command, a ripple of frustration evident in his expression. Yet, beneath the surface, there's a hint of resignation, a recognition of Sunghoon's authority at this moment. With a heavy sigh, he acquiesces, albeit reluctantly.

You catch the glint of disappointment in Jaeyun's eyes and offer him a reassuring smile. "Your turn will come, baby doll. Just be patient with us," you say, your voice soft and comforting. "Be good for me and Sunghoon, yeah?"

There's a warmth in your tone that Jaeyun finds hard to resist. He nods in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his lingering disappointment.

"Yeah, okay," he murmurs, his words murmuring behind his pout. "I'll be good."

Sunghoon nods in acknowledgement, his attention already focused on you. He gestures for you to move into position, his eyes burning with desire as he watches you comply. His stare exudes a desire that sends shivers up the back of your neck, eagerness running through your veins as you prepare to be filled with his cock. 

The familiar ache of longing surges within you as Sunghoon positions himself, the tip of his cock teasingly brushing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as you await the blissful sensation of being joined with him.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, Sunghoon enters you, his length filling you completely as you gasp in pleasure. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, ignites a fire within you, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your mouth. Your nails dig into the sheets as you arch your back, welcoming him deeper into your warmth.

Sunghoon's movements are controlled yet powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he sets a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

Jaeyun watches with a mixture of longing and admiration, his own desire evident in the way he bites his lip, his gaze fixed on the intimate act before him. Though he may not be participating at this moment, the sight of you and Sunghoon together fills him with a sense of fulfilment and arousal.

He starts to pump his cock slowly, rubbing his thumb over the slit in his bell, pressing down hard as he watches you get railed by the tall doll.

You see Jaeyun struggling, knowing that he wants nothing more than to be inside of you, his hand only giving him some relief but not anything like what he wants. As Sunghoon piledrives into you, balls slapping against your skin and hands gripped tightly into your hips, you place your hand over his cock, replacing his as you kiss his tip, spilling some of your warm spit onto it.

“You’re being so patient, baby doll.” you gasp between thrusts as Sunghoon bucks his hips faster, the bed moving below you and the headboard hitting the wall. You stroke his cock, trying to match the pace that Sunghoon has set. 

Jaeyun leans into your touch, his body trembling with anticipation as he surrenders to the sensations washing over him.  You look so beautiful with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, lost in your own desires while still trying to fulfil his.

“Suck it, baby girl, give your precious puppy the attention he wants,” Sunghoon’s tone is laced with mocking, eluding to the fact that you will always cater to Jaeyun even when he has done nothing to deserve it.

You don’t need to be told twice before your mouth is stuffed with your boyfriend’s length. You slurp him up with ease, the familiar taste of his faux skin making your pussy clench around Sunghoon; the sensation causes his cock to graze your walls so deliciously that you can’t help but moan in pleasure around Jaeyun.

You are so overwhelmed by all the emotions you are experiencing that your body surrenders to them both, letting them have their way with you in any way they please.

For Sunghoon, he relentlessly fucks into you, feeling his entire cock in your stomach. And for Jaeyun, he is holding your head and thrusting into you in time with the other doll, both of their cocks penetrating you so deep you’re sure if this was a hentai, their cocks would be kissing at the midway point.

Jaeyun looks up at Sunghoon and sees how concentrated he looks, his features echoing the power and determination of each thrust. He wonders if Sunghoon is so focused on you that he is forgetting himself in this situation.

Reaching over, Jaeyun cradles Sunghoon’s cheek, dragging him out of his concentration to look at him with bewilderment. But that look doesn’t deter Jaeyun, instead, he brings him closer to him and presses his lips to the shocked raven-haired boy.

As their lips meet in a tender kiss, the room seems to hold its breath, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Sunghoon's initial shock gives way to a sense of warmth and acceptance, his body melting into Jaeyun's embrace as he returns the sweet kiss.

In that moment, all pretence falls away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection between them. It's a gesture of solidarity, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that binds them together, regardless of the circumstances.

As they break apart, their eyes meet, a silent understanding passing between them. Sunghoon's heart swells with gratitude for the newfound sense of closeness blossoming between them. He gets why you dote on Jaeyun so much more than he ever did.

However, with the moment happening above you, you’ve been left to fend for yourself, rocking yourself between impaling on Sunghoon’s cock and deepthroating Jaeyun. You don’t mind putting the work in, especially if it gives Sunghoon and Jaeyun a chance to at least start to understand that sharing you could also open the possibility of sharing one another.

You don’t know how their dynamic will blossom but that’s part of the fun of it all, it’s something you can all work through together once you figure out a way to get Heeseung’s blessing.

Sunghoon's gaze is filled with admiration as he watches you, his lips curling into a wicked smile at the sight of your desperate efforts to please them both. It's a heady rush, knowing that you're willing to go to such lengths for their pleasure, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him.

As you continue to fuck onto him with determination, Sunghoon's hands roam over your body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever it lands. He revels in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, the sensation driving him wild with need.

“Flip over for me, baby girl.” Sunghoon commands, slapping your ass to motion you on your back.

Obliging, you pop off Jaeyun’s cock and roll over, legs spread widely in the air as you pirouette on Sunghoon, his shaft never leaving you. The newfound angle just makes it easier to thrust into you, helping you reach that pinnacle peak of pleasure once again.

Jaeyun watches him take you roughly, too roughly for his taste because he can see the bruises forming over your gorgeous body. Jaeyun's concern for your well-being is evident in his eyes, his brow furrowing with worry as he watches Sunghoon's rough handling. Despite his reservations, he trusts Sunghoon to know your limits better than anyone, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to intervene.

"Sunghoon, please," Jaeyun implores, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Just... take it easy on her."

Sunghoon's laughter fills the room, the sound mixing with the symphony of moans and gasps as he continues to pound into you with relentless force. “Jaeyun, listen to her, she fucking loves it.” He presses down on your stomach hard, feeling himself deep inside you, “Tell him how much you love it.”

“I love it, I love it so much,” you whimper out, body squirming as it becomes overrun with a sudden urge to release, your walls clamping down on Sunghoon. 

Jaeyun's expression softens as he watches the interplay between you and Sunghoon. Despite his lingering concerns, he knows that Sunghoon cares for you deeply, and he can see the mutual trust and understanding that exists between you.

Still, he can't shake the feeling that you could use some extra tenderness and care, especially with the intensity of Sunghoon's actions. With a determined expression, he moves closer to the two of you, his hands gentle as he traces soothing circles over your skin, massaging your skin softly as if to ease the tension and forming bruises on your skin.

It’s all too much, the juxtaposition between gentle and rough is sending your mind into a tizzy and before you know it, you’re coming undone over Sunghoon’s cock. “I’m cumming! I’m fucking cumming!” you exclaim through laboured breaths, gasping out.

“I know you are, baby girl, cum all over my cock like a good girl, show Jaeyun what a good pup looks like.”

Sunghoon's thrusts grow more urgent, his movements fueled by the primal need for release. His guttural moans fill the room, mingling with your own cries of pleasure as you both approach the pinnacle of your passion together.

With a final, desperate thrust, Sunghoon pulls out and releases his load onto your stomach, his essence painting you like a canvas as he marks his territory. There's a possessiveness in his actions, an unspoken claim over you that speaks volumes despite the supposed arrangement of sharing, but he wants Jaeyun to see you covered in his seed, how your body is glistening because of him.

You only add to his ego as you cry out, wishing he was filling you up instead. Your pussy craves cum, it needs to be stuffed and Sunghoon just denied you the simple pleasure. “Please,” you plead, not saying exactly what you want, but rather your actions speak as your fingers scoop some of the cum on your tummy and start to finger it into you.

Jaeyun can hardly tear his eyes away from the erotic scene before him, his own arousal reaching new heights as he watches you, desperate and hungry for more. 

“Come on, give her what she wants, Jaeyun,” Sunghoon begins, moving to the side to let Jaeyun take over, “Fill that pretty pussy up with your cum. Be a good boy.” 

A shiver runs over Jaeyun’s body and his cock leaks at Sunghoon’s words, a desperate whimper escaping his throat as he trembles in anticipation. He’s been watching Sunghoon manhandle you so long that he’s scared about hurting you, your cunt is too sensitive to take him.

Opening your eyes, you see Jaeyun holding his cock with contemplation clouding his eyes. You sit up on your elbows, using whatever energy you have left and tilt your head. “Go as hard or fast as you want, baby doll, I can take it,” you assure him, beckoning him closer for a kiss.

Your words ignite a fire within Jaeyun, his desire overcoming his hesitation as he moves closer to you, his cock throbbing with need. He leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his hands trembling with anticipation as he positions himself between your legs.

With renewed confidence, Jaeyun guides his cock into your heat, his breath catching in his throat as he pushes inside. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock enveloped in the warmth and tightness of your slick walls, driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

You moan into his mouth, encouraging him to go harder, faster, as you eagerly welcome him into your depths. Jaeyun's movements become more assertive, his hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency as he strives to give you the pleasure you deserve.

Sunghoon watches with rapt attention, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he observes Jaeyun messily bucking his hips into you, still cautious, but going at a speed that is perfect for you both. 

He can see the pleasure written all over your face, your moans filling the room as Jaeyun drives you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Sunghoon's smirk widens as he takes in the scene before him, revelling in the shared pleasure between you and Jaeyun.

With each thrust, Jaeyun's cock plunges deeper into you, eliciting a chorus of gasps and moans from both of you. Sunghoon's own arousal surges at the sight, his cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment.

For Sunghoon, there's a sense of satisfaction in seeing Jaeyun take control, knowing that he's capable of pleasuring you just as effectively as he can. He understands that Jaeyun likes to be coddled and you also like to coddle him, but in situations like these, your satisfaction is the utmost importance.

If Sunghoon can’t leave with you, he a least wants to make sure you’re being fucked right.

As Jaeyun continues to thrust into you, Sunghoon leans in closer, his voice a low growl of desire. "That's it, Jaeyun. Show her how good you can make her feel," he murmurs, his words fueling Jaeyun's passion even further.

Jaeyun continues to thrust into you with growing confidence and Sunghoon's attention shifts to your stomach, where his cum still glistens on your skin like a badge of ownership. With a hungry look in his eyes, he dips down, his tongue trailing along your abdomen as he licks up his own essence.

You let out a gasp of surprise at the sensation, the warmth of his tongue sending shivers down your spine. Sunghoon's movements are deliberate and sensual, his tongue dancing across your skin as he savours the taste of himself mingled with your arousal still lingering in his mouth.

Jaeyun's thrusts falter for a moment as he watches Sunghoon's intimate ministrations, a flush spreading across his cheeks at the sight. But the sight of you writhing beneath them, lost in pleasure, reignites his passion, and he resumes his rhythm with renewed vigour.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon laps up his cum from your stomach with increasing urgency, each lick more fervent than the last. His movements are messy, driven by the desire to taste every last drop of himself mingled with your sweat and arousal. He's lost in the moment, completely consumed by the act of claiming you in this intimate way.

As he finishes, your stomach now clean, Sunghoon looks up at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes, his desire burning brightly. "Open your mouth," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

Your mind is hazy, overwhelmed by the sensations and unable to fully process his command. Sensing your confusion, Sunghoon's hand slides down your body, his fingers finding your clit and massaging it with expert precision. Your jaw slackens, a moan escaping your lips as you involuntarily obey his command, your mouth opening in response to the pleasure.

Taking advantage of your open mouth, Sunghoon leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to share the mingled tastes of his cum and your arousal. The kiss is deep and demanding, a testament to the intensity of his desire for you.

Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, quickens his pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he chases his own release. He groans into your ear, the sound vibrating through your body and heightening your pleasure.

Sunghoon finally pulls back from the kiss, his lips lingering close to yours. "That's it, baby girl," he whispers, his voice a seductive growl. "Take everything we give you."

You nod weakly, your body trembling with anticipation and need. The combined sensations of Jaeyun's cock driving into you and Sunghoon's commanding presence are almost too much to bear. You feel yourself hurtling toward another climax, your body tightening in anticipation.

Sensing your nearing orgasm, Jaeyun adjusts his angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Sunghoon, not wanting to miss a moment, resumes his attention on your clit, his fingers working in tandem with Jaeyun's movements.

"Cum for us, Y/N," Sunghoon demands, his voice a low growl. "Show us how much you love being filled."

Your body obeys, your orgasm crashing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You cry out their names, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations. Your walls tighten around Jaeyun, triggering his own release as he spills into you with a loud groan.

Sunghoon watches with satisfaction, a proud smirk on his lips as he sees you both reach your peak. "Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers still gently stroking your clit as you come down from your high. "That's exactly what we wanted."

As you tremble in the aftermath of your intense orgasm, Jaeyun's moans in ragged gasps, his release still coursing through him. He slowly pulls out, his cum beginning to seep out of you. Without missing a beat, he uses his fingers to gently push his seed back inside, wanting to ensure you remain filled with him, just like you want.

Sunghoon watches Jaeyun's actions with a pleased smile, appreciating his attentiveness. "Good job, Jaeyun," he praises, his voice low and approving. "Now, go grab the water again. Our girl needs to stay hydrated."

Jaeyun nods, quickly getting up to retrieve the glass of water from the bedside table. As he does, Sunghoon turns his full attention back to you, his touch becoming tender and caring. He gently strokes your hair and brushes a few strands away from your face, his eyes softening with concern.

"How are you feeling, baby girl?" Sunghoon asks, his tone gentle, a stark contrast to his earlier intensity.

You manage a weak smile, your body still buzzing from the dual sensations of pleasure and exertion. "I’m...good," you breathe out, leaning into his touch.

Sunghoon's lips curve into a warm smile. "Good girl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Just relax. We’ll take care of you." He has always been good at aftercare, even when he was shut off from his emotions, it’s just who he is. He might fuck you within an inch of your life, but he will make sure to revive you after.

Jaeyun returns with the water, handing the glass to Sunghoon who carefully brings it to your lips. "Drink up," he instructs softly, his eyes locked on yours to ensure you’re okay.

You take small sips, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Once you’ve had your fill, Sunghoon sets the glass aside and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as Jaeyun takes a seat beside you, his hand resting on your thigh in a comforting gesture.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice filled with gratitude.

Jaeyun nods, his eyes filled with affection. "Just rest for now. We’ve got you."

You nod, allowing yourself to relax fully between them, feeling safe and cherished. The intensity of the moment has passed, leaving behind a comforting warmth that envelops all three of you. You close your eyes, a contented smile on your lips, knowing that no matter what, they will always be there to care for you.

As long as you can convince a certain Prince of Hell.

_____

Feeling a comforting weight on your chest, you pry your eyes open to find Jaeyun's head nestled there, his legs entwined around your waist. No - Sunghoon’s legs wrapped around you. He lies beneath you, his shoulder supporting your head, his hand reaching around your neck to scratch Jaeyun's hair.

You can’t believe that this is your life right now, that you could truly be this happy every day for the rest of time. The warmth of their bodies, the thump of your heart echoing your happiness, and the tender connection between all three of you feels like a dream you never want to wake from. Every worry and stress melts away, replaced by a profound sense of contentment. In this moment, you know that this is where you belong, wrapped in the embrace of those you love most.

But as nice as this is, as easy as it is to get lost in their embrace, you know there's still one obstacle in your way to achieving this paradise forever.

Heeseung.

If he doesn’t let Sunghoon go, there's no point in getting your hopes up. This bliss you've found yourself in can be ripped away in an instant if he says no. However, you believe you've got an offer he can’t refuse. 

Sunghoon notices you stirring and presses his lips atop your head, kissing your crown tenderly. “Good morning, baby girl,” he whispers with such softness that it almost blends with the morning air.

Jaeyun looks up with his big eyes and smiles, then kisses a heart pattern on your chest, a ritual he has performed countless times since becoming yours. It’s his unique way of saying good morning and expressing his affection.

You kiss Jaeyun first, your lips lingering as you savour the softness of his petal-like lips. In all your life, you don’t think you will ever tire of the way his plump mouth encloses yours, each kiss a reminder of the deep connection you share.

Turning your head slightly, you find Sunghoon's eyes already gazing at you with a mix of adoration and warmth. You lean in and kiss him next, your lips meeting his in a tender embrace. His kiss is different from Jaeyun’s - firmer, yet filled with the same depth of love. Sunghoon's hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as your mouths move in perfect harmony.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaeyun asks, gently rubbing your arm as you pull away from his best friend.

You nod, sitting up between them as you all shuffle to find comfortable positions. Sunghoon keeps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. There's a flicker of hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes as he watches the love of his life being embraced by someone else, a reminder that while sex might be easy to share, morning cuddles and other gestures of affection are something he'll need time to get used to.

“Yeah, it was amazing,” you say, smiling between both of them, grateful for the peaceful slumber and the two men who left you blissfully exhausted.

Jaeyun smiles warmly, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “You look so pretty right now,” he whispers, a daily ritual of his to compliment you in the morning, even when your hair is tousled and some mascara smudges remain from the night before.

Kissing your neck, Sunghoon nods in agreement, “Always.”

God, you could get used to this. But to get used to this, you have to have it.

“I’m going to see if Soonyeol wants to make breakfast,” you say, using it as an excuse to leave the bed, knowing you can’t let them catch onto your true intentions. “If you guys stay here, I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

“We can make yo-”

“No, no. I want to spend some time with her, you know. She’s important to you, and I haven’t spoken to her much,” you interject with a touch of urgency in your voice, masking the true purpose behind your words. It’s a blatant lie, but the underlying intention is genuine; you just won’t act on it at this moment.

Slipping from their grip, you adorn Jaeyun’s t-shirt and Sunghoon's boxers that were hastily discarded last night, tying your hair up, and focus on getting what you want, on what is best for everyone.

_____

Standing apprehensively on the other side of the door, your fist hovers, refusing to knock. The heavy wooden door feels like a barrier not just to Heeseung but to the future you desperately want to secure. Your heart races, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You’re scared, you’ll admit that—no amount of time or mental preparation could make this any less nerve-wracking. Every possible outcome runs through your mind, amplifying your anxiety.

But for Sunghoon, for you and Jaeyun, you’ll suck it up like you always do. You straighten your shoulders and square your jaw, determination settling over your features. Yes, you know what Heeseung can do and what he will ask for, but you can’t let him see any signs of weakness within you.

The sound of your knuckles against the wood echoes in the hallway, and you feel the weight of each passing second. 

“What?” Heeseung's voice pierces through the door, clearly annoyed by the disturbance; you would be too if someone knocked on your door at 6 am, regardless of whether you slept.

Taking a deep breath, you steady your nerves, feeling the weight of your decision. Despite the turmoil in your mind, you nod to yourself, trying to convince the part of you that's crying out, saying this is a bad idea. But determination drives you forward, pushing aside doubts as you prepare to face whatever comes next.

The door creaks slightly as it opens, revealing Heeseung sitting up against the headboard, the sheets tangled around him as though he had a restless night's sleep. The dishevelled state of the room hints that he had company, yet Soonyeol is nowhere in sight; but when he stands up and his naked form reaches your eyes, you can picture everything that went on; or maybe it’s flashbacks to your own rendezvous with the prince. Either way, you feel a rush of heat pooling between your thighs, your pussy weeping instinctively to the raw allure of his present state.

No matter how much you convince yourself that Heeseung has no hold over you anymore, your body proves you to be a liar.

“My pretty girl. Have you come to take me up on the offer finally?” Heeseung's voice carries a hint of amusement as he stares you down, a wicked grin painting his features. Despite the casualness of his words, there's an intensity in his gaze that sends a thrill down your spine. Even as he reaches to grab his boxers, his eyes never leave yours, holding you captive in their dark depths. You're ashamed to admit that your eyes don’t even meet his as you gawk at his delicious length, your body betraying your desire with each passing moment.

Heeseung notices your lustful gaze, a smirk playing on his lips as he pumps his cock gently. “So you came for this? I suppose I should have known Jaeyun could never satisfy you,” he says, his voice dripping with smugness as he voices his thoughts. His hand squeezes just before the bell of his cock, emphasising his arousal. “How do you want to take it? On your back or on your knees?”

On your ba-

“No. I didn’t come here for that,” you interject firmly, clamping down on the lascivious thoughts swirling in your head. As easy as it would be to surrender to the temptation, you know in your heart that giving in to him is the last thing you should do, no matter how much your body craves it. You shake off the filth from the crevices of your brain, steeling yourself against the allure of his naked form. The primal urge to submit to him lingers, a constant battle against the rational part of your mind that screams for restraint.

You wonder if it’s a general Prince of Hell thing or a Beelzebub thing that every time you come within 5 feet of him, you’re ready to open every hole you have. The thought makes you shiver, a mix of desire and frustration coursing through your veins as you struggle to maintain control.

Heeseung laughs darkly, withdrawing his hand from his shaft and returning to his original task of putting on his boxers. You feel a twinge of disappointment as he packs away his 7-inch friend, but you’re also relieved that you can now concentrate on the matter you came here for.

“So what did you come here for?” he asks, his voice now void of the earlier taunts, as he walks around the end of his bed to stand a meter from you. His demeanour shifts, becoming more attentive and serious, knowing that this is probably worth his time.

“I have a counteroffer,” you proclaim, the tremble in your voice betraying the weight of your proposition.

Heeseung smirks, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Oh? And what’s that, baby?”

“I want you to let Sunghoon leave with me and Jaeyun today,” you declare, the words hanging in the air as you wait for his response, your heart pounding in your chest.

Heeseung's smirk widens into a mocking laugh, disbelief evident in his expression. The sound echoes in the room, taunting you as if your request is nothing more than a joke. His amusement seems to fill the space, making the air feel heavier with each passing moment.

But you stand your ground, refusing to back down despite his dismissive reaction. Every fibre of your being is focused on this moment, on this plea that could change everything. Though uncertainty gnaws at you, you push it aside, determined to see this through. 

"I'm serious," you insist, your voice firm despite the ripple of anxiety that lingers beneath the surface. Your words twirl in the air, a silent challenge to his disbelief.

Heeseung's laughter fades, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze as he regards you. The intensity of his stare feels like a physical weight, bearing down on you as if searching for any hint of weakness. You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to falter under the pressure.

“I already gave you Jaeyun, baby. I hope you’re not taking my kindness for granted?” Heeseung's voice carries a note of warning, his words a reminder of the favour he believes he's already bestowed upon you.

You feel a chill run down your spine at his tone, a subtle threat lingering in the room. It's a stark reminder of the power he holds over you, a reminder that even in this moment of negotiation, you are still at his mercy.

Clearing your throat, you nod, meeting Heeseung's gaze with sincerity. “I don’t take it for granted,” you begin, your voice steady despite the nerves, “You know I appreciate it.” 

It can never hurt to suck up to a demon and agree with him when you need something from him.

Sucking his teeth, Heeseung hums in acknowledgement of your statement, clearly satisfied with your rebuttal. It's a small concession, but it feels like a victory nonetheless. You exhale slowly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, but it only lasts a moment because his eyes are back to swirling that red ocean in his stare. He knows now that you didn’t come here empty-handed.

However, before he asks you the inevitable question, he wants to settle his curiosity. “Why Sunghoon when you could stay here and have all of us? You had so much fun here, didn’t you?”

You did, you had the most fun you’ve had your whole life, but that was also when you had no real life back in the city. Now you have Jaeyun with you, and things are different. You wake up happy and you suddenly love the life around you because Jaeyun has a way of painting everything golden even when the skies are grey.

“Because this isn’t about me, this is about Sunghoon,” you admit, sensing Heeseung's curiosity. He gestures for you to explain your thoughts, clearly amused by your confession. “I just think, respectfully to Soonyeol, that he just isn’t… thriving here.”

"You mean because Soonyeol isn't fucking him like a banshee?" Heeseung interjects, his tone laced with sarcasm as he cuts straight to the point.

You flinch at his blunt words, a mixture of shock and discomfort washing over you. Heeseung's crude remark hits a nerve, stirring a mix of emotions within you. 

Sure, that is part of the reasoning in some sense. Sunghoon enjoys having sex, that much is obvious considering he has fucked you in almost every available room in this place, against every nook and cranny he could find, and in every which position he could bend you. Yet, it’s more than that.

He needs to explore his newly found emotions in an environment that will help him express his innermost thoughts and feelings. In this mansion with the same people and the same routine, it can be damaging to some people, and clearly, it is to him. He’s also incredibly lonely, and in a house with three other bodies shouldn’t be the case.

Heeseung’s sigh draws your attention, prompting you to lift your eyes to meet his. “Tell me something, and please, for the love of Lucifer, engage that stupid little brain of yours for once,” he says with a sly grin, though mock disappointment flickers in his gaze. 

Despite his harshness, you feel yourself strangely pulled to him, a tinge of pleasure building within. You blame Jongseong and his punishments for awakening this new love for degradation. 

“Don’t you think it’s irresponsible to let a demon loose in the wild? He is evil and destructive, I mean, you heard how he defied Dis because he hated being told what to do. What if you suffer the same fate, baby?” He feigns concern, using his warped words to make you think differently about Sunghoon and just be trapped in this house with him. 

You’ve caught onto his game and you refuse to play.

“Sunghoon is dif-”

“Don’t say he is different, Y/N. Every red-horned prick is the same, trust me, I am one,” Heeseung scoffs, his tone filled with bitter amusement at your innocent viewpoint on the matter. “We are monstrous and manipulative, it’s our job, and as far as I know, Sunghoon was one of the best. Did he ever tell you about the time he skinned that poor woman alive? Right down to her bones, and all he was ordered to do was snap her neck.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of Heeseung's revelation. You feel a chill run down your spine at the gruesome image he paints, the reality of Sunghoon's past deeds hitting you like a punch to the gut. 

But you know that whoever that was, wasn’t the Sunghoon you saw last night. He did what he had to in order to survive hell’s grip. You know his past is never going to be pretty, and you understand that. Whatever he’s done, whoever he has hurt, it’s in the past, and he's seeking redemption. And if he can't find it from God, he can get it from you.

Crossing your arms, you shift your body language as you guard yourself from Heeseung’s foul plays. “If he is such a threat to humans and as you call it ‘evil and destructive’, why keep him around Soonyeol?”

Heeseung doesn’t expect you to throw such a question at him, his face falling. “Because I can kill him if I need to and he knows that,” he explains, eyes secretly warning you to not push him too far. “But you, precious little you, you wouldn’t hurt one of my flies, he could take advantage of that.” he feigns sincerity, holding a hand over his nonexistent heart.

He speaks about Sunghoon being a manipulator but you’re staring at the master. Heeseung is using condescending tones and sympathetic body language to get you to trust him, a classic Beelzebub manoeuvre.

Returning to your flat those months ago, the weight of your encounter with Heeseung heavy on your mind, you wasted no time delving into research about the demon. The mere mention of his true name sent chills down your spine, and you were determined to uncover the truth behind his dark reputation.

You learned that Beelzebub is a master manipulator, skilled in the art of gaslighting his victims. He preys on their vulnerabilities, convincing them that his offers are the only solution to their problems. With each twisted lie, he tightens his grip on their minds, rendering them helpless to resist his control.

Your knowledge might not be extensive, but you've gained insight into his tactics, leaving you feeling more prepared to confront him, even if you're relying heavily on feigned confidence. After spending two months in close quarters with him, you've gleaned enough to believe that if anyone can outmanoeuvre this Prince of Hell, it's you.

“You said you don’t break promises,” you assert, redirecting the conversation to the purpose of your visit.

“And what promise have I made to you, baby?” he questions, a smirk playing on his lips.

“None yet, but once I give you something, you have to keep your promise.”

His eyebrow arches in intrigue, his manner shifting as he leans forward, assessing you with renewed interest. “You’re going to have to offer more than just your pretty little pussy for me to grant you Sunghoon.”

Of course, you're aware that indulging his desires likely played a significant role in his decision to allow Jaeyun to accompany you home last time. You understand that it will take something substantial, something unique to you, to strike a deal with him. Sunghoon might not be Soonyeol’s top priority as of late but he still offers her something she needs and Heeseung isn’t going to let that up easily.

“My soul. Take it.”

A heavy silence settles in the air, thick with tension as you lay out your offer. Your gut churns with unease, a nagging sensation urging you to retract your proposition and flee from the impending consequences. Meanwhile, the voice of your beloved Jaeyun echoes in your mind, pleading with you to abandon the deal and escape this precarious situation with a quick "sike," finger-gunning your way out of harm's reach.

Yet, despite the turmoil raging within you, you remain resolute. You've made your decision, and you're determined to see it through, even if it means silencing Jaeyun's protests and disregarding the warnings of your own instincts. It may seem foolish to press forward, but your love for Sunghoon eclipses any doubts or fears.

For you, this is more than just a risky gamble—it's a chance to offer Sunghoon a lifeline, a path to the freedom and happiness he so desperately craves. And if you didn't seize this opportunity, if you didn't at least try to give him a shot at a better life by your side, how could you ever live with yourself?

Heeseung steps forward, his movements sleek and predatory. “You would give me your soul for a demon’s freedom? I know I fucked you good, but I didn’t know I fucked you dumb,” he taunts, his eyes gleaming with a sinister red hue as Beelzebub comes to the forefront.

A chill runs down your spine as he speaks, his mocking tone cutting through the air like a knife. You feel a knot of fear tighten in your chest, but before you can react, he flicks his finger with a casual gesture and the door behind you clicks shut, the sound echoing ominously in the silence of the room. Your heart skips a beat as panic floods your senses, realisation dawning that you're now trapped, alone with a demon whom you’ve just offered your soul.

You’ve had calmer Sundays, that’s for sure.

Your voice quivers slightly as you press forward, determination warring with the creeping sense of dread. "I'm serious. Tell me your terms. Ten years? Twenty? When will you claim it from me if I do this?" you ask, though the strength in your tone wavers as Heeseung looms closer, his presence suffocatingly familiar, much like yesterday.

A sharp, disbelieving laugh escapes Heeseung's lips, shaking his head in amusement. “Baby, you think you have it all figured out,” he mocks, stepping even closer, if that's even possible. Your instinct to create some distance is rendered powerless as you stay transfixed in place, his proximity overwhelming.

His chest presses against yours, the closeness sending a shiver down your spine as if you're seconds away from dancing a lover's tango. “I’ll tell you what will happen, and I’ll let you make the final call, since I’m in a good mood,” he adds, his voice dripping with a sinister charm.

You swallow hard, steeling yourself for whatever he's about to reveal, knowing that your fate - and Sunghoon's - hangs in the balance.

"Here's the deal," Heeseung begins, his tone laced with a predatory edge. "I'll grant Sunghoon his freedom, no strings attached to me or Soonyeol," he begins, his words initially sounding like a lifeline, but the following conditions twist your stomach into knots. "But you surrender yourself to me.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you struggle to process the weight of his demand. The tension in the air is palpable, suffocating you as you grapple with the impossible choice before you.

"Good news is, your soul stays in your body, but that body? Oh, Sweetheart, that belongs to me," Heeseung continues, his voice dripping with malevolent satisfaction.

“But-”

"Don’t fucking interrupt me," he commands, his voice lowering to a menacing octave.

Mumbling a quick apology, you bite down on your lip, forcing yourself to remain silent, lest you incur his wrath further.

Heeseung's terms hang heavy in the air, the weight of his expectations pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "You do as I say. If I say jump, you ask how high. If I say to kill someone, you do it and thank me for the opportunity. I’m not being cruel, these are my terms for everyone."

That means Soonyeol too. It makes you wonder what on earth he has made her do while she has been under his control. Perhaps that two-month trip was more sadistic than you once thought.

The reality of the situation sinks in, and you realise that agreeing to his terms means surrendering not only your freedom but your very humanity. It's a choice that no amount of love for Sunghoon can make easy.

You draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for his response. "How long for?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing deep down that the answer may haunt you for eternity.

"Forever. Even after you die, you’re mine," Heeseung replies, his tone carrying a weight of finality that sends a chill down your spine.

The reality of the situation crashes over you like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under. The prospect of being forever tethered to Heeseung, subject to his whims and desires for all eternity, fills you with a sense of dread and despair. And yet, despite the overwhelming fear and uncertainty, there's a perverse allure to his offer. The magnetic pull he has on you, the intoxicating blend of danger and desire, whispers seductively in the depths of your mind. It's a dark and twisted fascination, one that you can't seem to shake no matter how hard you try. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you gather your courage and issue your counterproposal, determined to protect the ones you love from the potentially devastating consequences of your agreement. "If I say yes, you need to promise me that whatever you instruct me to do won’t hurt the people I love," you assert, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your request.

The audacity of your bargaining with a Prince of Hell is not lost on you. It's a bold move, one born out of desperation and fueled by a newfound determination to safeguard those closest to your heart. You can't help but marvel at your own bravery, even as uncertainty gnaws at the edges of your resolve, considering the closest you’ve seen to a haggle is two ladies trying to buy a bronze teapot on Bargain Hunt, you’d say this was a little out of your comfort zone.

Heeseung considers your proposal, his gaze flickering as he weighs the implications of your condition. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face as he pieces your words together, “Oh… Oh, you’re good, baby,” he begins, a chuckle escaping his lips before he continues, “Asking me to not hurt your loved ones so then I can’t touch you or the two Bratz dolls. You are not as dumb as I pegged you to be earlier.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of fear and perverse satisfaction swirling in the pit of your stomach. As he leans closer, his lips dangerously close to yours, “Fucking hell, you turn me on.” You can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline at his words and the realisation that you may have just outmanoeuvred a Prince of Hell. It's a dangerous game you're playing, but at this moment, it feels like the only option you have.

“So deal?”

Jaeyun’s voice floods your ears like a bad case of tinnitus, his shrieks bouncing inside your skull. But he is not here in your presence like last time, he can’t save you from Heeseung this time.

“Deal.”

_____

You walk back into the room to find Jaeyun and Sunghoon sitting on the edge of the bed, engrossed in a heated game on Jaeyun's Switch. Jaeyun's brow is furrowed in concentration, his thumbs moving rapidly across the buttons, while Sunghoon, surprisingly adept for a first-timer, wears a smug grin.

"How are you this good?" Jaeyun mutters, frustration seeping into his voice as Sunghoon wins yet another round.

Sunghoon chuckles, his pride evident. "Beginner's luck, I guess."

Watching them, you feel a warm sense of contentment. You think about what your life will be like with the two of them. There's a simplicity to the way they interact, a normalcy that almost makes you forget the supernatural forces that bind you all together.

Jaeyun, with his easy-going nature and inherent kindness, has always been your rock. His innocence is something you cherish deeply. On the other hand, Sunghoon, with his intensity and passion, brings out a side of you that's fierce and unapologetic. The thought of balancing these two very different but complementary forces fills you with a sense of adventure and anticipation.

Should you tell them that it was Heeseung you spoke with? Sunghoon would surely know you had to make some sacrifice to get Heeseung to agree. Jaeyun doesn't know about Heeseung's true identity or the lengths you went to ensure your collective happiness. The thought of deceiving them, even for their own good, weighs heavily on your conscience.

As you step into the room, they look up, pausing their game. "Where did you go?" Sunghoon asks, his eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity. You said you were going to make breakfast with Soonyeol, but you were away for a long time, too long for that matter.

"Just a walk," you replied, climbing into the bed between them. Their warmth enveloped you from both sides, a comforting presence amidst your swirling thoughts. You savored the feeling for a moment, then turned to Sunghoon. "Are you okay with car journeys?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though your heart pounded in your chest.

"I think so," Sunghoon replied, a hint of confusion lacing his voice. "Why?"

"Because it's a long drive back to the city," you said, your voice steady despite the nervous energy bubbling inside you. What if he changed his mind and you’ve just sold your soul to Beelzebub?

Sunghoon's eyes widened as he processed your words. "You mean...?" he trailed off, disbelief and hope mingling in his expression.

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. "Yes. You're coming with us."

Sunghoon's expression morphed into one of pure elation. "How did you...? Did you speak to Heeseung?" His question hung in the air, heavy with implications.

You forced a smile, praying your lie would be convincing. "Actually, I spoke to Soonyeol. But anyway, what matters is that you're coming with us." You deflected any more questions, shaking your head to signal you didn't want to delve into the details.

Sunghoon leaned in and kissed you softly, the affection in his touch making your heart swell. His lips were tender against yours, a stark contrast to the raw intensity you often shared. It amazed you how a demon could feel so deeply that he almost seemed human.

Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, pouted and tossed his controller aside. He scrambled over, a wide smile on his face, and wrapped his arms around both of you. "My two favourite people!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy as he squeezed you both tightly.

You revelled in the embrace, feeling Jaeyun's hug against your side and Sunghoon's steady warmth pressing into you. This moment, this tender connection, was everything you had fought for. 

As you lay there between them, you wondered how your life would change. The future seemed both daunting and exhilarating. You imagined the three of you navigating the complexities of your relationships, finding joy in the simple moments, and facing the inevitable challenges together. Could you balance the love and care they both needed? Would they understand the compromises you had to make to keep you all together?

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching for yours. "Are you sure you're okay? You really didn’t speak to Heeseung?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern. His worry is that you did something rash, something to put your life at risk.

You nodded, the sincerity in his gaze making your chest tighten with emotion because you know you're lying to him. “No I didn’t. I just asked Soonyeol to convince him."

Sunghoon's smile widened as he accepts your lie as the truth, and he kissed you again. Jaeyun, not to be outdone, leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek. "I'm so glad we're all going back together," he murmured.

The three of you stayed entwined for a while, the silence filled with unspoken promises and the steady rhythm of your breathing. Eventually, Sunghoon and Jaeyun begin to get up to start packing, leaving you to your thoughts.

Your life was about to become a whirlwind of new experiences, challenges, and unknowns. Yet, despite the looming uncertainty, a thrill of excitement coursed through you. Your life was about to become a living hell, but as you watched the two boys move around the room, your heart swelled with a sense of anticipation. 

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

Maybe, just maybe, it was a hell worth living for.

[tojis-gf]

lactation kink w/ toji x reader

an: okok this has been something i've wanted to actually indulge in for a minute and i'm rlly nervous abt it >_< if you aren't into this stuff, pls just skip past. + not proofread !

it was any other tuesday night, toji had put your two children down for bed which you couldn't appreciate more as you've been so exhausted. sure you're on maternity leave, but being at home doing chores around the house is so exhausting on your poor little pregnant body, especially with having to take care of two littles : ( but toji makes sure to help out when he's around and not working.

you're currently 27 weeks along and as of lately, your breasts have began to leak. toji doesn't mind, if anything, it makes the blood rush straight down to his cock. it absolutely turns him on. you're almost positive that toji loves seeing you pregnant because of how dense and plump your tits get, all filled up with milk for his baby that he put inside your warm womb.

as you watch some shitty reality tv show to try and relax for a bit, you begin to massage your breasts, as they're so sore, heavy, and full of milk. toji makes his way over to the couch, plopping down next to you, noticing your discomfort, "what's wrong baby" he says, reaching out to squeeze your tits, "are the girls feelin' extra full t'day? hm, y' want me t'make em' feel better hm?" he says with a smirk on his face. he knows the answer to that, he just wants to hear you beg for him to suck on your tits. "mhm, they're s'full, pretty please baby, make me feel better" you whine and of course he's wasting no time, not even bothering to lift your cute little lace tank top that can barely support your tits, rather pulling them out, letting the neck-line rest under them.

he begins with your right tit, mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking like there is no tomorrow, your sweet milk dripping from his mouth onto your tit, eventually dripping onto your pants but you didn't care, it felt sooo good. when it comes to your tits, that is definitely toji's oral fixation. if he could suck on them all day long he 100% would. he peers up at you through dazed eyes, drunk off your taste, "how does that feel babe, feels fuckin good right?" he says before switching to your left tit, attacking it like there was no tomorrow, you swear you could cum just from the sight of this "hah~ y-yeah baby, feels s'good mhm..keep goin' pleaseee" you babble in even more of a daze than he's in.

at this point, he's just kissing all over them, leaving love bites on the parts that'll be non-visible in tops, your nipples are so sore at this point you're unsure you'll even be able to bare it any longer, as much as you do enjoy all the love toji shows for your tits. "b-baby, thank you" you say as you go down to kiss the top of his head, "as much as i love you sucking on my tits, i'm starting to become a bit more sore than i initially was" you giggle, "lay here though, i'd like that a lot...". and he does, head resting against your bare chest as the two of you drift off into a slumber, quickly interrupted by the cries of your two-year old son. "don't worry, i got it, relax mama" he says, planting a kiss onto your chest, rising from the couch to tend to your son.

[solar-wing]

⚣ One Kent Was Enough 👦🏻

⚣👦🏻 A/N → You spoiled little brats got a damn near 40k word fic out of me! No complaints, EVER again. Also, if anyone remembers, I posted about doing something like this before when I got inspired by this post from @cipheress-to-k-pop. Hope you enjoy and thank you for your patience and support! WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Canon Divergence | Domestic Fluff | Angst & Fluff | Minor Conner/M'Gann mentions | Slight Enemies To Lovers trope | Implied Mpreg |

⚣👦🏻 Summary → Conner and Y/N had a very tense relationship; tense meaning there was rarely a moment the two could be in the same room without arguing. Their friends didn't see a future where they would ever be close, let alone cordial. But, a timely visit from some special individuals could end up changing things for the better? Or worse, depending on the perspective. Could the world actually be ending?

⚣👦🏻 Words → 39.4K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 👦🏻

In the dimly lit garage hangar of Mount Justice, Batman, and Red Tornado stood solemnly by the ramp, awaiting the return of their young proteges from a mission that was purportedly successful, though marred by "minor complications," as Aqualad had cryptically reported. The exact nature of these complications remained unclear until the bio-ship's hatch door swung open, releasing a cacophony of shouts and arguments into the cool air of the hangar.

The first to disembark were Y/N and Conner, their heated argument escalating with each step they took from the ship. Their faces, illuminated by the harsh overhead lights, were twisted in frustration and anger—emotions that had clearly brewed long before the bio-ship touched down.

"You always undermine me, every single mission!" Y/N's voice echoed off the metal walls, his anger palpable. "With your encyclopedic brain, how can you not grasp the simple phrase 'I don’t need help'? Is English somehow the exception in your multilingual repertoire? Shall I translate it into Spanish? Russian? Swahili perhaps?"

Conner responded with equal venom, his voice low and menacing. "If you weren’t such a constant liability, maybe I wouldn’t need to intervene. And a 'thank you' might be nice, considering this is the fourth time this month I’ve had to bail you out."

As they continued their verbal duel, Batman and Red Tornado exchanged a glance, their expressions a mix of resignation and concern. The other team members exited the ship, their faces tense and weary, evidently disturbed by the ongoing conflict between their comrades.

"Report," Batman interjected, his voice cutting through the bickering with authoritative clarity.

"We neutralized Bane’s operation and apprehended him," Aqualad reported, maintaining a composed demeanor despite the slight twitch of irritation in his brow. "The mission was successful."

"Yeah, barely," Wally added, arms crossed, his tone dry. "He almost got away, thanks to Yin and Yang over there."

Aqualad shot Wally a sharp look, signaling him to tread carefully, but the damage was done. Batman’s gaze hardened, his attention now fully on the quarreling pair behind him.

"And what do you do besides scream like a monkey and throw tantrums?" Y/N shot back at Conner, his voice rising with each word. "If it weren’t for your so-called Kryptonian powers, you’d be less useful than my dog in a fight!"

"Don't compare me to a monkey," Conner growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "And last time I checked, these 'weak' Kryptonian powers kept your behind safe more than once. Like that time you hid behind me when those League of Shadow goons cornered you?" Conner retorted, his fists clenched at his sides, the veins in his arms bulging with restrained fury.

"You baffling monkey head, I was casting a spell, not hiding!" Y/N snapped, his aura crackling with magical energy, a clear sign of his escalating temper.

"A spell to boost your courage, perhaps? And stop calling me names," Conner growled, stepping closer until they were nose to nose.

"What are you going to do? Thrown another tantrum if I hurt your wee little pride?" Y/N taunted, floating a few inches off the ground to meet Conner’s height, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Enough!" Batman’s command reverberated through the hangar, silencing everyone. He swiftly positioned himself between Y/N and Conner, his presence alone demanding peace. Aqualad and Kid Flash pulled Conner back while Zatanna and Robin gently guided Y/N to the ground, their actions preventative.

"This is the third time your arguments have nearly jeopardized a mission," Batman stated coldly. "Resolve this conflict, or you’re both sidelined until you can act like professionals."

With a final, piercing glance at the two, Batman turned and strode towards the mission control room, Red Tornado following in his silent, measured steps. The rest of the team dispersed quickly, their looks of sympathy and frustration cast toward Y/N and Conner as they left.

Fuming, Y/N rounded on Conner. "This is all your fault!"

"How is this my fault? You’re the one who can't keep his mouth shut," Conner shouted back.

"You're the one who can't take a hint and leave me alone," Y/N countered, his aura flaring.

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a pain in the ass, I wouldn't have to intervene," Conner said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, is that what you call it? Intervening? Because I'd call it something you tried to describe me as earlier with your self-projecting ass. And if you don't learn how to stay out of my way, I'll show you just how much of a pain I can be," Y/N threatened, his eyes glowing with unspent magic.

"Is that a threat?" Conner asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Oh, please, I wouldn't waste a threat on you. Your primate brain might not be able to understand it. But, it's definitely a promise," Y/N replied, his voice equally low as he turned away, his footsteps echoing in the empty hangar.

"Whatever," Conner muttered, turning and stalking off in the opposite direction.

As Y/N headed towards the showers, his mutterings continued, a stream of insults and grievances pouring out, unheard by all but Conner, who paused to listen with a heavy sigh before shaking his head and walking away.

The tension between Y/N and Conner had been growing for months, and their teammates were becoming increasingly concerned. The two had never seen eye to eye, but their animosity had recently reached new levels and now the rest of the team was beginning to suffer from it as well.

A couple of hours later, Zatanna and Y/N were deep in their studies in one of the library rooms at the base, surrounded by ancient texts and spellbooks. Y/N was particularly agitated, aggressively flipping through pages and muttering curses under his breath about Conner. This was typical following their arguments; Conner would withdraw and brood, while Y/N became irritable and quick to anger.

Their dynamic puzzled their friends and mentors. Despite claiming indifference toward each other, Y/N and Conner managed to elicit intense reactions from one another, more so than anyone else on the team. Initially, Y/N had been keen to form a bond with Conner, driven by an attraction he barely acknowledged. However, Conner’s apparent disinterest only fueled a series of confrontations, worsening their interactions over time.

As Y/N's frustration grew, Zatanna decided a break was needed. “Hey, I’m going to grab a snack. You want anything?” she asked, hoping to ease the tension.

“Conner’s head on a stake would be nice. If not, then apple juice, please,” Y/N half-joked, half-serious, not looking up from his spellbook.

Zatanna rolled her eyes at his melodramatic response and headed toward the lounge, where the mood was lighter. M’Gann was baking cookies, filling the room with a warm, inviting aroma. Dick and Wally were engaged in a video game, with Artemis spectating, while Kaldur was absorbed in a book.

Upon noticing Zatanna, M’Gann offered a spoonful of cookie dough. “Hey Zatanna, want to try my new recipe? I’m hoping it’ll cheer Conner up.”

“Sure, who would ever say no to free cookie dough?” Zatanna smiled, taking the spoon.

Artemis, overhearing the conversation, commented wryly, “M’Gann, you’re too good for him. I’d only bring back lawsuits for my exes.”

“We’re not exes!” M’Gann protested, a blush coloring her cheeks.

“So, you guys are still together?” Artemis raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing.

“No! Well—technically yes, but it’s complicated. We haven’t talked about it, but we haven’t broken up either. It’s just... things are different now. I’m not sure what we are. I mean, we’re not dating, but we’re not not dating. Does that make sense?"

"Not really, but whatever makes you happy," Artemis shrugged.

Zatanna offered her a sympathetic hand while washing the spoon in the sink. “Just give him some time. Where is Conner, anyway?”

“Either in the garage hangar or the training room, letting off some steam after his fight with Y/N,” Dick answered, his attention briefly diverted from the game.

M’Gann’s expression soured at the mention of Y/N, prompting Zatanna to add, “That’s why I’m out here. Needed a break from all the mumbled threats and angry huffs.”

“What were they arguing about this time?” Artemis inquired, genuinely curious.

“Who knows? Those two bicker so much, I doubt even they remember what starts it half the time,” Wally chimed in, his fingers busily working the game controller.

“But seriously, is it just me or is the tension between Y/N and Superboy getting worse?” Wally interjected, pausing the game.

“It’s not just you,” Dick replied, setting his controller aside. “They’ve been at each other’s throats lately.”

Wouldn't it be funny if everyone were currently thinking of a memory where Y/N was literally at Conner's throat, trying to choke him out? Not that that actually happened or anything.

...

Okay, it definitely did, but Batman definitely did not have to get Zatanna and Zatara to magically restrain Y/N from trying to suffocate the half-Kryptonian with his powers.

...

Okay, he definitely did.

“I thought they were past this,” Zatanna sighed. “I mean, it’s been a year since their first big fight, and things seemed to have calmed down. But now, it’s like they’re back to square one.”

“I just want to know why Conner always seems to pick fights with Y/N for no apparent reason,” Artemis pondered aloud.

Zatanna noticed M’Gann mixing her cookie dough with more force than necessary and decided to distance herself from the counter, eyeing the bits of dough that were escaping out of the bowl.

“True, but Y/N can be just as provocative. He gives as good as he gets, which only escalates their conflicts,” Kaldur observed, not looking up from his book.

“It’s like a vicious cycle with them. Last week, Y/N cast a spell on Conner during an argument at school just to shut him up—literally removed his ability to speak temporarily,” Zatanna recounted, shaking her head.

“Yikes,” Wally winced.

“Yeah. Thankfully, no one was around to see it or the damage caused to the hallway in the aftermath. They should feel lucky I was there to clean up their mess,” Zatanna frowned, recalling the incident.

“Why are they so hostile towards each other? They’re supposed to be teammates, not enemies,” Dick wondered.

“Maybe they’re secretly into each other and are too stubborn to admit it,” Wally joked, earning a pillow thrown at his head by Artemis.

“Wally, that’s not funny,” M’Gann chided, her expression darkening.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just kidding,” Wally apologized, raising his hands in surrender.

“Why hasn’t Batman done anything about their constant fighting? Surely, he’s noticed how disruptive it is,” Artemis asked, her tone exasperated.

“He has, and he’s given them multiple warnings, but they haven’t listened,” Kaldur responded.

“Well, hopefully, they’ll sort out their issues eventually. For the sake of the team, and their own sanity,” Dick sighed.

“Yeah, those two getting along? Might as well be a sign of the apocalypse,” Wally joked.

No sooner had he spoken than the room was suddenly engulfed in a brilliant, searing light that pulsed like a living thing. It expanded rapidly, washing over everything in sight with an overwhelming glow, casting sharp shadows and making it impossible to see more than a few inches ahead. Zatanna stumbled backward, instinctively reaching out for the edge of the counter, her knuckles whitening as she gripped it tightly while M'Gann covered her face with her arm and did her best to hold onto the counter.

It was an intense magical energy that felt thick, almost tangible, vibrating in the air as it intensified. Zatanna could feel it coursing through her, every hair on her body standing on end as the power surged from the epicenter while the others struggled to remain upright.

The force of the magic tugged at everyone, like an invisible hand trying to pull them closer to the blinding core of the disturbance. Papers flew off the table, books flipped open and fluttered their pages wildly, and the very air felt charged with potential—like the moment before a storm unleashes its fury. M’Gann’s telekinesis instinctively flared, her eyes glowing as she erected a weak barrier to keep the scattered kitchenware from hitting anyone. Dick dropped his controller and braced against the couch, feeling the gust of wind push against his frame, while Wally, ever the speedster, darted to the side and ducked behind Artemis, trying to shield her with his body.

“What the heck is that?!” Dick yelled out, though his voice was drowned out by the roaring sound that accompanied the light.

“I have no idea, but I’m not sticking around to find out,” Wally shouted back, grabbing Artemis and speeding her around to behind the counter where M'Gann was.

Zatanna, eyes squinting through the blinding light, reached out with her magic, trying to push against the force, but even her well-honed abilities struggled to contain it. It felt wild and potent—untamed, but also somehow new and pure, like a water source that never experienced the effects of pollution. “What is this?” she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of sound and energy.

“Everyone, get down!” Kaldur ordered, shielding his eyes.

As the light grew in intensity, it became almost painful to bear. Everyone was holding on to something—whether a counter, a chair, or each other—bracing themselves against the sheer force of the phenomenon. It was as if the very fabric of reality was being stretched thin, ready to snap at any second. And then, just as quickly as it had started, the light dimmed, the energy receding, leaving the room eerily quiet. The gusts of wind ceased, and the magic that had filled the space dissipated into the air, leaving only the scattered remnants of their surroundings in disarray. Everyone stood frozen in place, breathless, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

The team slowly emerged from their various hiding spots, still shaken by the unexpected display of magic. Dick was the first to stand, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear the spots from his vision. “Can someone explain why we just got hit by a magical freight train?” he groaned, squinting at the mess left in the room.

“Is everyone okay?” Kaldur asked, breaking the silence.

“I think so,” M’Gann replied, her voice shaky.

“What the hell was that?!” Artemis demanded, her heart racing.

Meanwhile, Zatanna stood frozen, her gaze fixed on something no one else seemed to notice. In the midst of the scattered books and overturned chairs, three new figures now stood in the room, looking completely out of place and, oddly enough, not at all concerned by the chaos around them.

“Uh, guys…?” Zatanna started, trying to catch someone’s attention.

Kaldur frowned, inspecting the room as though he could assess what had just happened with logic alone. “That was magic. Though, I've never felt anything like it. That energy felt…different. More raw than what we’re used to,” he noted, his brows furrowed. “It wasn’t one of Zatanna’s spells, was it?”

“No, it definitely wasn’t me,” Zatanna responded absentmindedly, her eyes still trained on the three figures. “But seriously, guys…”

M’Gann, still rattled, glanced around the room at the damage. “Do you think it was a new villain attack? It didn’t feel like a typical threat, but—”

“I don't think it was an attack,” Kaldur interjected, his eyes narrowing as he tried to piece it all together. “At least, not in the conventional sense. The magic was too unfocused.”

“But, how could someone attack us here? It seems unlikely any villain would consider attacking here, knowing we know that they know about the Cave,” M'Gann added, clumsily repeating Wally's words from their first week in the Cave.

“No, but it isn’t the first time we were attacked here,” Artemis reminded her.

“Guys!” Zatanna said again, this time louder, but still no one paid attention.

Dick continued to rub his temples, his patience wearing thin. “Whatever it was, we need to figure it out fast. We can’t just wait for Batman to—”

“GUYS!” Zatanna practically shouted now, waving her hands wildly in the air.

“What?!” Wally finally turned, looking exasperated.

Zatanna pointed dramatically toward the three new presences in the room, who were standing in varying degrees of awkwardness and curiosity. One of them was casually flipping through a spellbook that had landed on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the team’s presence.

“Uh, guys… You see three random kids in the corner too, right?” Wally asked, bewildered.

Artemis, peering towards the corner, responded dryly, “Of course, genius. Why else would we all be looking that way?”

The one with the spellbook, seemingly the oldest, stood confidently in the center, observing with an amused smile as Wally and Artemis bickered. The second boy, positioned slightly behind, crossed his arms and frowned—a familiar gesture that sparked a sense of déjà vu among the onlookers. The youngest clung to the eldest’s hand, peering from behind with wide, apprehensive eyes at the array of new faces, a strong resemblance to someone they all knew catching Zatanna's attention.

“Uh...when did they get here?” Dick asked, blinking rapidly.

The one holding the spellbook glanced at the Boy Wonder, his bright, yet calculating smile like he knew you and everything about you with just one look. “Oh, we’ve been here for a while. Hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”

The rest of the team’s jaws dropped simultaneously.

Before anyone could react to the newcomers, the sound of loud, heavy footsteps reverberated through the space, and Conner barreled into the room. His usual brooding expression was replaced by a combination of panic and anger, his hands clenched into fists. "What the heck is going on in here?!" he demanded, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger.

As the Kryptonian burst into the room, the youngest boy's face lit up with recognition. “DADA!” he exclaimed, releasing the eldest's hand and sprinting towards Conner with surprising speed.

Conner, caught off guard, froze, his eyes widening as the child collided with his legs and wrapped his arms around him.

"Dada, dada, dada!" the little boy repeated, his voice muffled against the older man's leg.

"What the...?" Conner mumbled, his brain struggling to process the situation.

"Um, Conner, care to explain?" Dick asked, his confusion evident.

"Explain what?" Conner shot back, his eyes darting between the team and the child clinging to him.

The team's faces registered a mix of shock and slight amusement as Superboy, taken aback, tried to gently remove the enthusiastic toddler clinging to his leg. The boy's laughter filled the room as he attempted to shake him off—unsuccessfully.

“I wouldn’t do that,” the eldest boy advised calmly. “That’s his favorite thing to do when you get home from work. The harder you try and shake him off, the longer he’s going to hold on.”

Conner stopped moving, and the child’s grip loosened slightly but remained firm. Frustrated yet curious, Conner looked around at the bewildered faces of his teammates. “Whose kid even is this?” he asked.

"Yours, apparently," Wally snickered.

"Not funny, Wally. Now, whose is it really?" Conner replied, his tone laced with irritation.

“Um... dude, judging from that kid’s reaction and the fact they seem to know you more than anyone, I’m gonna make an educated guess and say he’s yours too,” Dick replied, his voice filled with astonishment.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Conner snapped, his frustration growing.

"Language," the eldest boy warned, his eyes narrowing.

"Sorry," Conner grumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly, feeling scolded in a way only someone else ever made him feel. Who the hell were these kids?

Conner’s confusion deepened as he looked down at the smiling boy and then at the other children. Upon closer observation, their similar features became slowly unmistakable now, making it increasingly difficult to deny the reality: he was indeed their father.

Where was Maury when you needed him?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Conner groaned as the boy began climbing him like a playground.

“Welp, might as well continue down this crazy train since we're at full speed. So if we've summarized that these three random kids that just appeared out of nowhere are our resident Kryptonian's offspring, then who's their mom?” Wally asked, his gaze sweeping toward the female members of the team.

Zatanna raised an eyebrow menacingly, challenging him to continue, while Dick glared disapprovingly at the implication. Artemis watched the exchange with an amused yet intrigued expression.

M’Gann stood up abruptly, her voice ringing with a mixture of excitement and certainty, “Hello, Megan! If they're Superboy’s kids, there’s only one logical explanation.”

“They’re all clones made in a lab too?” Wally suggested, which earned him a round of exasperated looks.

“No, Wally. I was going to say that if they’re Conner’s kids, then I must be their mom!” M’Gann exclaimed, flying over to the three boys. Conner, looking increasingly overwhelmed, watched silently as she approached the children with open arms.

“Hi, little guys. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m M’Gann, or Megan here on Earth, but you can call me Mom. What are your names?” she asked with a warm smile.

The boys exchanged looks, seeming to communicate silently before the eldest responded cautiously, “Uhm, hi. Don’t know how to say this without sounding mean, but—uhm...”

“You’re not our mom,” the boy behind him said bluntly.

Everyone cringed slightly as that statement hit M’Gann like a physical blow, her face a mixture of confusion and hurt. But before she could gather her thoughts to respond, the room’s attention was diverted by more footsteps, these lighter but just as quick.

“What in the world is going on out here? Do you wombats not understand I’m trying to meditate? And where is my apple juice?!” Y/N’s voice, gruff with irritation, cut through the tension.

The youngest boy, still clinging to Conner, pointed excitedly at Y/N. “Papa!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the suddenly silent room.

“Does anyone want to explain why this random child currently playing monkey bars on Conner just pointed at me and called me Papa?” Y/N asked, his surprise evident as he stared at the child reaching out to him.

The team exchanged stunned looks, each as speechless as the next while M’Gann displayed a blend of horror and anger, Conner’s embarrassment and irritation at the "monkey bars" comment clear.

The heavy silence was finally broken by Wally’s incredulous remark, “Oh my god, the world is gonna end.”

Everyone gathered in the living room, with Conner and Y/N positioned centrally, while their three unexpected young guests sat casually on the couch.

“Okay, let me go over this one more time, just to make sure I’m not missing anything,” Y/N began, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he eyed the two oldest children exchanging knowing looks before turning his attention back to the group. “You three are from the future and used a magic spell that you're claiming I taught you to come back in time because you wanted to meet your parents?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re claiming,” the oldest affirmed.

“And you’re also saying that me and Conner are those parents?” Y/N gestured between himself and the Kryptonian, who was observing the children with a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.

“Yep,” the boy replied confidently.

“LIAR!” Y/N’s voice boomed suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger at the child. The sudden outburst caused a stir among his teammates.

“Y/N!”

“Dude!”

“What is wrong with you?”

The children merely covered the youngest brother’s ears, though the little one giggled, oblivious to the chaos. Even Conner shot Y/N a disapproving look, though that wasn’t unusual.

“What? He claims I taught him that spell—something I would never irresponsibly share with a child, especially one that could cause all of this! Plus, that spell isn’t even in my book,” Y/N defended himself, his exasperation causing sighs and head-shaking among the team.

“Really?! That’s the part you find hard to believe?” Wally interjected incredulously.

“What? You don’t think they’re from the future?” Y/N retorted.

“Uhm, how about the fact they’re claiming to be your kids?!” Dick countered, his disbelief evident.

“Oh, right. Yeah, that’s not hard to believe at all,” Y/N responded dryly, drawing stunned looks from everyone, particularly Conner and M’Gann.

“This must be some sort of test by Batman, trying to teach me and Conner a lesson. Seriously, me and him? Together? Don’t insult me,” Y/N scoffed, dismissing the idea as utterly preposterous.

Conner’s expression shifted from confusion to anger, a storm brewing behind his eyes. He wasn’t the only one offended by the remark.

“Hey! You shouldn’t talk about Dad like that!” the middle child yelled at Y/N, mirroring Conner’s growing irritation.

“And what are you going to do about it, little boy?” Y/N taunted, only to yelp in pain as a blast of heat vision singed his thigh. “Ow! Did this little gremlin just fry me with heat vision? How does he even have heat vision when you don’t?!”

The room fell into shocked silence as the oldest child stood, calmly walking over to Y/N and healing the burn with a wave of his hand, leaving no trace of the injury. His powers were undeniable, as was the ever-clear fact that these kids were exactly who they claimed to be.

“Dude, Dad told you not to use your heat vision on people,” the eldest scolded his younger brother.

“Yeah, well, Papa warned you about snooping through his spellbook, and look where we are now!” the middle child shot back, waving his arms animatedly at the chaotic situation around them.

“AH-HA! Told you!” Y/N exclaimed triumphantly, though most of the team just rolled their eyes at his stubbornness.

“Dude, you’re focusing on the wrong thing. One kid just blasted you with heat vision, and the other healed you with magic that looks a lot like yours,” one of the others pointed out.

“I know, but I proved my point, and that’s what matters,” Y/N replied, his tone a mix of vindication and annoyance.

“As you should,” the oldest child agreed, earning a wary glance from Y/N.

“Okay, how about we start this whole thing over,” Zatanna suggested, cutting through the tension. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured extra seats for Y/N and Conner to sit across from their children. “Let’s try introductions first, and then sort the rest out.”

As everyone repositioned themselves, the youngest child sprang from the couch and darted back to Conner, once again climbing him like a jungle gym.

“Not this again,” Conner groaned, clearly exasperated.

“Told you, it’s his favorite thing. He loves when you come home from work or pick him up from daycare. He also loves tickle fights,” the oldest explained, pointing to Y/N as the little one began poking playfully at Y/N’s side.

“Tickle, tickle…” the young boy giggled, his tiny fingers eliciting the faintest smile from Y/N, despite himself.

Zatanna and Artemis both cooed at the adorable sight, and even the rest of the team seemed to soften at the moment. M’Gann, however, couldn’t hide her discomfort. Abruptly, she left the room, her departure noted by all but especially by those who understood the depth of her feelings.

“So, about those introductions again?” Y/N said, redirecting attention back to the children, who were now all grinning at the prospect of formally meeting their parents.

Conner Kent Junior, or 'CJ' for short, was the oldest of the three future children. Before he was born, his father had embraced the tradition of naming children after oneself, opting for 'Junior' rather than 'The Second.' Surprisingly, Y/N—usually stubborn six days a week and double on Sundays—had agreed to this tradition. Present-day Y/N found it hard to believe he’d relent on anything, especially to Conner. The idea that they were a couple in any reality was hard enough to swallow, let alone the fact that he would so easily give in to Conner’s whims.

Yet, here was CJ—living proof of their future union. The boy was a spitting image of Conner: the same eyes, the same jawline, and the same stoic demeanor in displeasing situations, so much so that one might mistake him for a clone. However, certain subtle traits also revealed the undeniable truth that Y/N was his other biological parent, such as the shared hair texture and, of course, the child’s inherited magical abilities.

But beyond CJ’s physical resemblance to Conner, his personality was a carbon copy of Y/N’s. His attitude, his way of speaking, and even his mannerisms echoed his magical parent so closely that it was both amusing and slightly disconcerting. Apparently, in the future, Y/N had become a powerful wizard—capable of rivaling entities and deities—which CJ mentioned with a hint of pride that threatened to inflate Y/N’s ego even more than usual.

CJ’s adeptness at magic was remarkable, something that nearly rivaled his father’s power. Zatanna had felt the raw and potent magic when they first arrived, and CJ explained that his abilities were tied to ancient magic Y/N had encountered in the past—or was it the future? It was confusing, but either way, it was clear this magic was the reason CJ and his siblings even existed in the first place. The revelation left both of his parents intrigued—and for Y/N, particularly, nervous.

CJ and his brothers had used his magical skills to travel back in time, doubting the stories they’d been told about their parents' rocky relationship. According to their Aunt Zatanna, their parents had not always been the most harmonious duo, and the kids wanted to see it for themselves. Zatanna had told them tales of Y/N taking away Conner's voice in the middle of an argument or using magic to strangle him (briefly) after Conner made a snarky comment about his weight.

"Isn't it ironic that Dad's the one with the temper, but Papa's the one prone to murderous behavior? It's always the quiet ones," CJ had mused with a smirk. "But we wanted to see it for ourselves. You wrote the spell that got us here, but you wouldn’t teach it to me until I was older, or unless it was absolutely necessary."

"Well, that explains why I don’t have a spell like that in my book. But you’re admitting that I didn’t teach you the spell and you went behind my back?" Y/N raised a brow.

"No, I’m not admitting anything. I’m just saying that you didn’t teach me the spell, but you did write it," CJ replied casually.

"That’s not the point, and you know it," Y/N huffed, crossing his arms.

"I’m not saying anything without my lawyer," CJ shot back, barely hiding a smirk.

The quick wit and smart attitude were unmistakably Y/N’s influence. Despite CJ’s striking resemblance to Conner, his magical aptitude and sarcasm were all Y/N—he was clearly his father's son.

Colin, the middle child, was the wild card of the bunch. While CJ bore Conner’s serious demeanor, Colin had inherited Y/N’s mischievous streak and free-spirited nature. He had his father’s hair and eye color, but he possessed all of Conner's powers and temperament. He could also perfectly replicate his father's neutral, glaring expression—his signature stoic face.

The earlier heat blast Colin had unleashed during their arrival was a clear testament to the volatile mix of his genetic heritage. Colin’s abilities, however, had raised a lot of questions, especially since he seemed to have powers that Conner didn’t. Before CJ could elaborate further on Colin’s abilities, Zatanna had quickly stepped in, cautioning them against discussing too much about the future. Revealing too much could damage the timeline—and Y/N certainly didn’t need any more ego boosts.

Colin had also made his feelings about M’Gann very clear when he spoke of a mysterious "green lady" trying to separate his parents, a sentiment that left everyone silently grateful that M’Gann had left the room.

The youngest sibling, Camden Kent, was a perfect blend of his parents. His dark hair and eyes were from Conner, while his skin tone clearly came from Y/N. Though Camden didn’t display any powers yet, his cheerful personality and playful nature brightened any room he was in.

Though there was an undeniable charm to the whole situation, it didn’t make it any less complicated. Y/N had been right about one thing—the spell the kids had used wasn’t supposed to be in their hands. Colin had graciously snitched on his older brother, explaining how CJ had managed to get his hands on the spell by sneaking into Y/N's study while he and Conner were distracted.

"It was all CJ! Papa was making dinner and yelling at Dad about being overprotective, and something about not wanting a repeat of the Phantom Zone thing. CJ snuck into the study, took the spell page, and we used it in his room. I think they heard us, though, 'cause before we zapped out, I heard them rushing upstairs," Colin had said smugly.

Y/N had chuckled, "Me mad at Conner for getting in my way and trying to play hero? Sounds about right."

Conner’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as Y/N’s words hit a nerve. The jab about playing hero had always been a sore spot, and hearing it now—especially in front of their potential future children—only made the sting sharper.

"Are you serious right now?" Conner growled, his blue eyes narrowing as the tension in the room escalated.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "What? Did I lie?"

"You always do this," Conner bit out, stepping closer. "Acting like you’re above needing help. I was trying to keep you safe—"

"Safe from what? Myself?" Y/N scoffed, crossing his arms. "I can handle things without you jumping in and messing everything up. If you’d stop being such a—"

"Hey!" Zatanna’s voice sliced through the rising tension. "Reirrab." With a wave of her hands, a glowing barrier appeared between them. "Can we not start another fight in front of the kids? I know this is overwhelming, but we need calm heads here."

Conner glared at Y/N but stepped back. Y/N, though clearly annoyed, shifted his stance and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," Y/N muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Before Conner could respond, a sharp hiss from the couch interrupted them. "You didn’t have to rat me out, you little brat," CJ growled at Colin, who grinned smugly.

"You’re the one who got caught, not me," Colin taunted, sticking out his tongue.

CJ opened his mouth to argue, but a sharp look from Y/N silenced him. "Enough," Y/N said firmly, making both kids sink into their seats.

The room, now charged with tension from the glowering parents and their children was silent. That is until  Wally decided to speak up.

"Man, it’s like watching a mini version of you two go at it," he snickered, glancing at the kids. "Like father, like son—times two."

Dick raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Yeah, except I always thought Conner would be the one laying down the law. Not Y/N."

Wally laughed. "Right? Seeing Y/N as the bad cop—"

"Are you kidding?" Artemis cut in, crossing her arms. "Y/N’s always been a strict little stick-in-the-mud. I’m not surprised."

Y/N, who had been pinching the bridge of his nose, finally looked up. "Excuse me, I have always been the responsible one. Conner’s the one who probably thinks letting kids jump off roofs builds character."

Conner scowled. "I don’t see why not. They need to know how to fall."

"Typical," Y/N shot back, grinning sarcastically. "And you wonder why I don’t leave you alone with the kids."

"He's right," CJ chimed in.

"Yeah, Papa never lets you watch us alone for more than an hour after that one mission," Colin added matter-of-factly.

"See! And they said I didn’t know how to make smart decisions," Y/N replied dryly.

Conner sighed in frustration. "I can’t believe this. You’re blaming me for something that hasn’t even happened yet."

"Well, maybe if you weren’t so reckless, I wouldn’t have to worry," Y/N snapped.

"Reckless?" Conner scoffed, his voice rising. "You’re the one always running off and putting yourself in danger!"

Before the bickering could reignite, Zatanna cleared her throat. "Look, we’re not here to debate your future parenting dynamics. We need to figure out how to get these kids back to their timeline."

CJ, who had been fuming after Colin’s betrayal, hesitated. "Uh, about that…"

Y/N narrowed his eyes. "What now?"

The oldest child shifted nervously. "There’s kind of a problem with that."

Wally grinned. "What? You didn’t plan for the return trip?"

CJ flushed. "No, we did! But…"

"But what?" Conner asked, his patience wearing thin.

Colin piped up, "CJ lost the spell page."

All eyes snapped to CJ, who raised his hands defensively. "I didn’t lose it! I just… may not have held onto it tightly enough."

Y/N groaned, rubbing his temples. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"Yep, definitely your kid," Dick commented with a chuckle.

Zatanna’s lips twitched. "Let me guess, you didn’t memorize the spell before casting it?"

CJ shifted uncomfortably. "We didn’t think we’d need it right away. I was focused on making sure it worked, not the clean-up."

"You didn’t think that maybe—just maybe—you’d need a way to get back?" Y/N asked, his exasperation evident.

"I was going to figure that part out later!" CJ snapped, sounding just as defensive as Y/N usually did when backed into a corner.

Conner crossed his arms. "This sounds familiar."

Y/N shot him a withering look. "Not helping."

Artemis laughed. "So what’s the plan now? We can’t keep these mini-you’s hanging around."

Zatanna nodded. "I can try to reverse the spell, but it’ll take time. I’ll need to gather some materials and maybe consult our spellbook. If future Y/N made it, it shouldn’t be too difficult."

"Hey!" Y/N protested, his ego bruised.

"She’s right," CJ admitted, earning a glare from Y/N.

"So we’re stuck with them," Y/N sighed.

"Hey, we’re right here!" Colin interjected indignantly, crossing his arms. "And it’s not our fault! CJ’s the one who messed it up!"

"Quit throwing me under the bus you ill-brained bug," CJ hissed, his narrowed eyes practically throwing daggers at his younger brother. "Don't call me names! And you did lose it," Colin shot back, his tone equally venomous.

"Enough," Y/N said, eyes hard. "No fighting."

Conner, meanwhile, looked at Camden, still hanging off his arm. The situation was far from what he’d imagined for his future. A family? Kids? He had never pictured it. And Y/N… he never thought they’d become something together. Yet, here they were.

"I'll start working on the reversal spell. In the meantime, we'll have to find a place for the kids to stay," Zatanna continued, ignoring the wounded expression on Y/N's face.

"They’ll stay with us," Conner stated, his tone firm.

Y/N’s brow shot up. "Excuse me? Us?"

"Yes, us. Did I stutter?"

CJ and Colin exchanged quick glances before Colin smirked, nudging his older brother. "Did Dad just use one of Papa's lines against him?" he whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. CJ grinned, nodding. "Yeah, and somehow he's still breathing. Must be a miracle."

The room erupted into soft laughter, with even Wally doubling over in amusement. Artemis gave Conner a playful nudge, her grin wide. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Kent."

Conner and Y/N stood there, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. Conner clenched his jaw while Y/N crossed his arms, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"Okay," Kaldur intervened, saving them from further embarrassment. "We need to focus on getting them home. Zatanna, you and Y/N can both do research together. CJ can help since he's the one who used it so he may remember some things from it."

Zatanna smiled faintly. "Sounds good. I’m gonna look into a few other things first, though. In the meantime, you might want to prepare yourself for a lot of questions, especially from Batman."

Conner groaned, clearly dreading the inevitable debrief. "Great."

"I have nothing to answer for," Y/N retorted. "I didn’t bring a bunch of kids from the future into the past."

"Maybe not, but you made them," Conner shot back.

"Oh, please. Like you didn’t have a hand in that."

"More than a hand," Artemis snickered.

CJ narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean by that?"

The entire room, as if rehearsed, answered in unison, "Nothing."

Y/N and Conner had no choice but to let the kids bunk in their rooms until they could figure out how to replicate the spell and send them back to the future. The children, after all, had vehemently refused to sleep in the lounge. CJ had opted to stay with Y/N, while Colin chose Conner's room. Camden, at first, didn’t show a preference, but eventually made his decision clear by reaching for Conner. Despite wanting to wipe the smug grin off Y/N’s face, Conner gave in without much protest.

However, Y/N found no peace, especially with CJ bombarding him with questions about their relationship:

"Have you and Dad gone on a first date yet?"

"No."

"Have you guys kissed yet?"

"No—I... That’s a grown folks' question."

"So, when do you think you'll go on a first date?"

"Do you have an off button?"

"Do I look like a toy from Target to you?"

"Damn, you really are my son."

"Bad word."

"Sorry."

"Why do you guys sleep in separate rooms? You have your own room together back home."

"Uh... what did I say about grown folks' questions?!"

The questions seemed endless. Despite Y/N growing increasingly tired, he found himself surprisingly unbothered. Normally, anything that disturbed his rest would drive him mad, but for some reason, he found it hard to get annoyed by CJ’s relentless curiosity. Perhaps he understood. If Y/N were in the kid’s shoes, he’d probably be asking a million questions too.

"Hey, Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Does it ever end?

"Sure, kiddo," Y/N sighed, staring up at the rocky ceiling of his bedroom.

"What's the deal with you and Dad?"

Y/N froze, his eyes fixated on the ceiling as CJ’s innocent question hung in the air. He shouldn’t have been surprised, especially considering how sharp the kid was. This conversation was bound to happen at some point—though he would’ve preferred it to be later. He didn’t even know the answer himself.

What was the deal between him and Conner? That was the real question. The relationship was complicated, to say the least, and it was certainly not something Y/N was eager to explain to his future son. A nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he shifted on the bed, trying to buy himself some time. “That’s a... big question, kiddo.”

CJ, lying on his side, propped his head up on his hand, eyes wide with curiosity. “Yeah, but you guys love each other, right?”

Y/N gulped. Of course, the kid would jump straight to the heart of the matter. How was he supposed to answer that without messing up CJ’s perception of the future—or worse, letting his complicated feelings for Conner bubble to the surface in front of a child? He didn’t want to lie, but the truth... well, the truth was messy. And kids didn’t handle messy well.

“Well...” Y/N began, stalling as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Love is... complicated.”

CJ’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by complicated?”

Y/N winced. Damn, these kids ask too many questions. He shifted again, trying to figure out how to tiptoe through this conversation. “I mean, sometimes people have... feelings for each other, but they don’t always know how to deal with them right away. Like, your dad and I... we argue a lot because we’re still figuring things out.”

CJ tilted his head, clearly not convinced. “But Auntie Z said you guys argue a lot in the future too. She said you love each other, but you’re both kinda... stubborn.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of his nose. Zatanna, I’m going to kill you. He sighed deeply, turning his head to look at CJ. “Yeah, that sounds about right. We’re both pretty stubborn. And when two people are like that, it takes them longer to... you know, get on the same page.”

CJ’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “So you do love each other!”

Y/N’s stomach flipped. He wanted to deny it, to downplay everything. But looking at CJ’s expectant face, he realized he couldn’t outright lie. He’d never been great at lying anyway. “It’s... complicated, like I said.”

CJ groaned, clearly frustrated with that answer. “You keep saying ‘complicated,’ but what does that even mean? Do you want to be with Dad?”

Y/N tensed, his heart racing. Okay, this is too much. “Uh... I think we should save this conversation for when you’re a little older, kid. Like, maybe a lot older. Or, you know, when you’re back in your timeline and it’s Future Me’s problem.”

CJ gave him an unimpressed look. “That’s a cop-out answer.”

Y/N snorted despite himself. “I... Who taught you that?”

“You did.”

“Of course I did,” Y/N muttered, shaking his head.

CJ wasn’t letting this go, and Y/N knew it. Y/N sighed, glancing back up at the ceiling, emotions stirring up that he wasn’t prepared to deal with. It wasn’t just complicated—it was a mess, a tangled web of miscommunication, stubbornness, and unspoken feelings that spanned the years since he joined the Team. He thought back to when he first arrived, how Dr. Fate had sensed the raw potential in him and demanded that he go under the Justice League's protection. Y/N didn’t have much of a choice back then, and neither did the Team when they were told he’d be joining.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. Y/N got along with everyone easily, even found a mentor in Zatanna and Zatara who was still being used as a host by Dr. Fate which is how he found him in the first place.

 But Conner? Conner was different. It was as though the Kryptonian had built a wall the size of Metropolis between them, remaining cold and indifferent despite Y/N’s attempts to connect. Y/N hadn’t expected to become best friends overnight, but the sheer lack of acknowledgment hurt more than he let on. He remembered how Conner would barely look in his direction, like Y/N didn’t exist, even though he treated everyone else like family.

It was confusing, especially when Y/N noticed how Conner always positioned himself near him during missions—ready to intervene but never willing to share a word afterward. That subtle protectiveness should’ve been reassuring, but it drove Y/N mad. If Conner didn’t care, why hover around him like some kind of silent guardian?

After months of trying, Y/N finally gave up. He mirrored the cold treatment, stopped reaching out, and focused on the rest of the team. But then, something shifted. The moment Y/N stopped trying, Conner started. The once silent indifference turned into sharp comments and antagonistic behavior. It was like Conner needed to get a rise out of him, and no one could push Conner’s buttons the way Y/N could.

Pretty soon, they were constantly at each other's throats (sometimes literally), bickering over the smallest things. Everyone else just rolled their eyes and let them sort it out, but the tension between them was palpable.

Looking back now, Y/N wondered if something had always been simmering beneath the surface, something neither of them knew how to admit. Maybe Conner’s way of dealing with whatever feelings he had was to push Y/N away, to lash out. Y/N wasn’t sure what scared him more—the idea that Conner never cared or the possibility that he cared too much and didn’t know how to handle it.

And now, faced with a future version of himself that had apparently figured it out, Y/N was stuck in a mess of emotions that defined their present. The thought made his chest tighten, and he shook his head, trying to push it aside. He wasn’t ready to untangle all of that just yet, especially not with CJ watching him, waiting for answers.

He glanced over at the kid, still staring at him with a mix of confusion and determination.

“Look, CJ, it’s... complicated,” Y/N repeated, knowing it was a weak excuse. “Your dad and I have a lot of history, and a lot of that is... well, not great. It’s a work in progress.”

The room fell silent for a moment, and Y/N hoped the interrogation was over. He closed his eyes, trying to relax, but CJ’s voice cut through the peace again.

“So... if you’re not together yet, does that mean I could mess it up by being here?” CJ’s voice was quieter this time, tinged with genuine concern.

Y/N’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected that. “Hey, no, no—nothing like that,” he said quickly, turning to face CJ. “You being here isn’t going to mess anything up. Don’t ever think that.”

CJ’s big eyes looked up at him, full of uncertainty. “But what if Colin, Camden, and I being here changes things? What if you and Dad aren’t meant to be together because of us? I don’t want to mess up your future.”

Y/N felt a pang in his chest. He could see how much CJ cared, how much this meant to him. The kid didn’t want to lose the family he had, and Y/N couldn’t blame him. Hell, Y/N didn’t know what the future held between him and Conner, but seeing CJ so worried made him realize just how important that future was—to these kids, at least.

He placed a hand on CJ’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. “CJ, listen. No matter what happens, you three aren’t going to change what’s meant to be, okay? Whether your dad and I figure things out now or later, that’s up to us. But you don’t need to worry about it.”

CJ’s expression softened slightly, but he still seemed unsure. “You promise?”

Y/N hesitated for a second, then nodded. “I promise.”

CJ studied his father for a long moment, then let out a sigh of relief and flopped back onto the bed. “Okay, if you say so.”

Y/N smirked, feeling like he’d defused the situation—until CJ spoke again.

“But seriously, you guys need to hurry up and kiss. You’re taking forever.”

Y/N groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god, please stop.”

CJ giggled, clearly pleased with himself. “Well, it’s true. You’re way more lovey-dovey in the future. Like, gross sometimes.”

Y/N pulled his hands away from his face, narrowing his eyes at the boy. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

CJ shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face.

Y/N rolled his eyes, turning back to the ceiling. He tried not to think about the fact that his future self was apparently a lot more affectionate with Conner, or the fact that CJ was clearly comfortable with it.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across his cheeks. This was going to be a long night.

Just as the eleven-year-old finally appeared to be settling down, a knock at Y/N’s door pierced the growing calm. He couldn’t mask the annoyance in his grunt as he called out for whoever was there to enter.

The door opened to reveal Conner, struggling to soothe a fussy Camden, with Colin in tow. Both Kryptonians looked exhausted, their matching bed-heads and disgruntled grimaces completing the picture.

Y/N was caught off guard by the endearing yet disheveled sight of them—Conner in his casual home attire, with Colin standing by his side like a shadow, and Camden, a perfect blend of Y/N’s and Conner’s features, in his arms. The scene felt surprisingly right.

“He won’t stop crying and fussing,” Conner explained, his voice tinged with fatigue. “I’ve tried everything. I think he wants to sleep with you.”

Taking Camden into his arms, Y/N immediately felt the toddler relax. “What’s up, buddy? Is your Daddy keeping you up with all his grumbling?”

“I didn’t do anything! He was fine half an hour ago, then he woke up crying. When I tried to calm him down, he just got fussier and started calling for his 'Papa’ over and over.”

CJ, from his spot on the bed, chimed in, “He probably had a nightmare. It’s hard for him to go back to sleep afterward.”

“And how do we get him back to sleep?” Conner asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“He usually sleeps in bed with you,” CJ answered.

“He was already doing that, and it didn’t help,” Conner replied, clearly exhausted.

“With both of you,” CJ clarified.

Y/N and Conner exchanged stunned looks, the suggestion hanging awkwardly in the air. “Uh, are you sure there’s no other way to calm him down?” Y/N asked, his voice laced with hesitation as he and Conner avoided each other’s gaze.

“Nope. So, scoot over and make some room,” Colin said, settling the matter with a tone that brokered no argument. With a reluctant shuffle, Y/N and CJ made room on the bed, both Y/N and Conner still clearly uncomfortable with the closeness but willing to do what was needed for the youngest Kent.

As they settled into an awkward silence, Camden, now nestled between them, began to quiet down, his sniffles subsiding as he felt the reassuring presence of both his parents. The soft glow of the nightlight spell Y/N conjured cast gentle shadows across the room, softening the edges of the tense atmosphere.

“Well, ain’t this cozy,” Y/N quipped, trying to cut through the awkwardness with a bit of humor. Conner just grunted in response, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, clearly wrestling with the intimacy of the situation.

CJ and Colin, seated toward the middle of the bed between their parents’ legs, watched the scene with knowing looks. “You guys are really weird about this,” CJ commented, shaking his head. “You do this all the time back home.”

Conner sighed, his gruff tone betraying his discomfort. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly 'back home,’ kid.”

CJ shrugged, then finally settled down, his eyes growing heavier as the night’s events took their toll. Conner, still visibly uncomfortable, shifted slightly, turning on his side to face away from Y/N, while Y/N remained on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The room fell into a profound silence, the only sounds being the gentle breathing of the boys as they finally succumbed to sleep.

In the dim light, Y/N and Conner lay awake, each lost in their own thoughts. The physical closeness, necessitated by Camden’s need for comfort, forced them into a proximity neither had anticipated—at least not under these circumstances. As the minutes dragged into hours, neither spoke. The air between them was thick with confusion, unresolved tension, and an undeniable sense of familial bond that neither could quite embrace nor deny.

Y/N’s mind raced with a mix of future possibilities and present discomforts. He turned his head slightly, glancing at Conner’s back and noting the tension in his shoulders. The fact that they could be a family—a real family, with laughs, fights, bedtime stories, and morning cuddles—felt absurd. Yet, somehow, it also felt right, in a way that scared him.

It was a future that felt like a dream, one so vivid during sleep but absurdly distant upon waking.

Conner, for his part, was equally conflicted. The physical presence of Y/N so close yet so far in spirit was jarring. He was used to tackling problems head-on, not lying silently next to them. The warmth from Y/N’s body, the sound of his breathing, and the soft rustle of sheets each time he moved—all served as acute reminders of what could be—a future intertwined with Y/N, a man he had known as a teammate but never as something more.

As Camden shifted in his sleep, mumbling softly and curling closer to Y/N, Conner let out a soft sigh. This was what family felt like—messy, uncomfortable, yet filled with unexpected moments of tenderness.

Fate was a cruel thing to dangle something so perfect right next to him, knowing that once this night was over, it would be back to reality.

The night stretched on, and though sleep tugged at their eyelids, both Y/N and Conner resisted, each caught in their own whirlwind of thoughts. They remained awake, guardians of the quiet peace that had settled over their children, protectors of a future still unwritten.

Finally, as the first hints of dawn crept through the curtains, signaling a new day, Y/N and Conner allowed themselves a moment of rest. Their eyes closed, not out of comfort with each other, but from sheer exhaustion. The sun would rise on two men still unsure of their path forward, but for now, they were bound by a shared responsibility and an unspoken commitment to the well-being of the children who had started the process of slowly bringing them together.

The next morning, Y/N and Conner were greeted by three simultaneous realizations. The first was the peculiar sensation of being surrounded on all sides—Y/N found CJ and Camden clinging to him like koalas, while Conner awoke to the unpleasant surprise of a foot in his face and a toe nearly up his nose, courtesy of Colin.

The second realization came when they noticed how close they had ended up to each other during the night, their bodies naturally gravitating together as if seeking warmth in the pile of kids nestled between them. It was a proximity neither had planned for, yet somehow, in the night’s deep silence, it didn’t feel… wrong.

Didn’t stop them from trying to scoot away from each other, though.

The third and most jarring realization came when the sound of cooing and giggling shattered the morning calm. Y/N blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the bright lights, only to see Zatanna, Artemis, Dick, and Wally gathered at the doorway, barely containing their laughter, smartphones in hand.

“What the—” Y/N started, his voice groggy and laced with confusion.

“Morning, sunshine!” Dick greeted with a smirk, snapping pictures as quickly as possible. “Don’t you all look nice and cozy?”

“It’s not every day we see such a picturesque family moment,” Zatanna added, her tone dripping with mock sweetness.

Conner, fully awake now, grimaced as he gently removed Colin’s foot from his face. “Can you guys not?” he muttered, trying to salvage some dignity.

Y/N, who, like many others, was not a fan of being photographed first thing in the morning, shot a glare at the group. “You all better consider yourselves lucky I’m still half-asleep. Otherwise, you’d all be something I could swat at right about now.”

Artemis, unfazed, grinned. She knew Y/N wouldn’t hurt a fly (unless it was an actual fly), especially not his friends.

Dick, on the other hand, was not so confident and took a cautious step back, just in case.

Wally, always the instigator, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease one of his closest friends. He leaned against the doorframe, a mischievous grin on his face. “So, how was your night, lovebirds? Get up to anything interesting?”

Colin rubbed his eyes groggily, blinking up at Wally from his spot on the bed. “What do you mean by ‘interesting’?” he asked, his voice innocent but filled with curiosity.

Without missing a beat, everyone—Y/N, Conner, Dick, Artemis, Zatanna, and Wally—responded in unison, “Nothing.”

Colin blinked again, clearly not satisfied but too sleepy to push further. He shrugged it off, snuggling back into the blankets.

“Anyway,” Dick started, his tone slightly more serious, “Batman’s here. He’s waiting for you and your ‘guests’ in the mission room.”

Y/N groaned, the dread immediately washing over him. “Oh, come on. This early?”

“Batman doesn’t sleep, Y/N,” Zatanna quipped, smirking as she crossed her arms.

The kids, on the other hand, perked up at the mention of Batman. CJ’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he nearly launched himself out of bed. “Uncle Bruce is here?!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing in place. “We get to meet him in his prime!”

Colin’s face mirrored his brother’s excitement. “Yeah! We’ve never seen Uncle Bruce younger than when he was old and retired!”

Y/N winced, rubbing his temples. “Great. Because that’s exactly what I needed today. Batman in his prime.” He glanced at Conner, who was already starting to untangle himself from the bed and the web of blankets.

Conner met his gaze, both of them instantly realizing the same thing: one of them was going to have to explain this entire situation to the Batman. Neither looked eager to volunteer.

Y/N groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh... you're explaining this to Batman, right? Cool, great!” he said, trying to shift the burden onto Conner.

Conner shot him a sidelong glance as he finally freed himself from Colin’s grasp. “Why should I explain it? You’re the one who created the damn spell. This is on you.”

"Ah, future me did that. Present me, on the other hand, has done no such thing. So, therefore, this falls on you. See, math," Y/N said with his usual sarcastic tone. “And I didn’t bring three kids from the future back here. That’s not on me!”

“Oh, but I’m not their only father, am I?” Conner shot back, keeping his voice as low as possible but still sharp.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so when it’s convenient for you to use the father title, now you want to use it? Yesterday you were acting like it was some cosmic mistake!”

As the bickering continued, Wally leaned over to Artemis and muttered with a grin, "Man, they’re already nailing the divorced parents thing. Ten out of ten performance."

Artemis smirked, not missing a beat. “Yeah, all that’s missing is the custody battle.”

“I didn’t say—” Conner started, but CJ, who had been watching the whole exchange, interrupted with an amused but exasperated tone.

“You know, if you guys are trying to keep quiet, you’re not doing a very good job,” he pointed out, his voice deadpan as he hopped off the bed.

Both men stopped mid-bicker, realizing the volume of their conversation had escalated. They shared a brief, awkward silence before Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Right. Sorry, CJ.”

“Are we going or what?” Colin asked, looking ready to sprint toward the mission room, his excitement bubbling over.

Conner grumbled under his breath as he pulled his shirt on, shooting Y/N another look. “I’m still not explaining it.”

Y/N threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine! I’ll explain it to Batman. But if he glares a hole through my head, I’m holding you responsible.”

“Deal,” Conner muttered as he turned to usher the kids toward the door.

Wally, who had been watching the entire exchange with great amusement, shook his head. “You guys are so much fun in the mornings. Really sets the tone for the day.”

Y/N shot him a half-hearted glare. “Wally, if you don’t stop talking, I will personally turn you into a decorative garden gnome.”

Wally just grinned wider, following the group as they headed out. "Try me, magic boy."

As they all made their way down the hall, CJ and Colin buzzed with excitement at the prospect of meeting the Dark Knight in his prime, while Y/N mentally prepared himself for what was sure to be a long conversation with Batman.

When they arrived at the mission room, Batman stood with his arms crossed, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Superman and Dr. Fate flanked him, both with differing reactions already written across their faces. Superman wore a look of quiet curiosity, while Dr. Fate’s imposing helmet tilted slightly, as if analyzing every moment with critical intensity.

Y/N barely had time to feel the weight of their combined presence before a chorus of "Uncle Bruce!" filled the room, followed by the stampede of three excited children. CJ, Colin, and Camden rushed past Y/N and Conner, crashing into Batman with a level of enthusiasm normally reserved for holidays.

Batman barely moved, standing firm as three small bodies collided with him. His expression never wavered from his usual deadpan. He looked down at the kids clinging to his legs and tugging at his cape like it was any other Tuesday.

"Hello, boys," he greeted, his voice even, betraying no emotion.

"Uncle Bruce, you're so young!" CJ exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Yeah, you're not old and retired yet," Colin chimed in, his tone equally awestruck.

Camden, meanwhile, had attached himself to Batman's leg, refusing to let go. "Bat Bat," the toddler babbled, his voice muffled against the fabric of the suit as he began his usual routine of climbing up the grown man who, once again, was not fazed by the action.

A chorus of "Awws" echoed from behind Y/N, as Artemis and Zatanna both cooed at the sight of the two-year-old climbing all over Batman like a jungle gym. Meanwhile, Conner stood there, his arms crossed tightly as he watched his youngest son cling to the Dark Knight, not feeling a slight ounce of jealousy at the sight. Not one bit...

Y/N exchanged a glance with Conner, both of them unsure how to proceed. Batman’s piercing gaze and silent command made it clear someone needed to start explaining. But the Dark Knight simply looked back at the three of them, his expression unreadable, as if a trio of future children showing up out of nowhere was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Uncle Bruce! Can we see the Batcave later?" Colin asked, practically vibrating with excitement.

Batman merely raised an eyebrow under his cowl. “We’ll see.”

Y/N’s nervousness spiked. The fact that Batman was completely unfazed made him even more anxious. The Dark Knight was known for his cold efficiency and intimidating nature, but this calm acceptance of three kids who claimed to be the future children of his two protégés felt... ominous.

Superman, on the other hand, chuckled warmly as the boys shifted their attention to him.

“Uncle Clark!” Colin shouted, springing off the ground into the air toward the Man of Steel with just as much enthusiasm. “You still look the same, but somehow still young. That's so cool!"

Y/N, Conner, and pretty much everyone else in the room (except for Batman) stared in utter shock, watching the eight-year-old hover in the air next to Superman, who also looked a bit surprised.

"Is he—" Wally started, his eyes wide.

"Flying?" Artemis finished, her mouth hanging open.

"You can fly," Conner stated, his voice a mix of astonishment and confusion.

"Well, duh," Colin said, rolling his eyes. "Dad and Uncle Clark showed me how. Uncle Clark, look at this trick I learned," he added with an excited grin.

Before anyone could react, Colin rocketed upward, performing a flawless loop in the air, zipping in a spiral before descending slowly to hover near Superman. His face radiated pride, clearly relishing the opportunity to show off his flying skills. Superman watched him, still a bit stunned, but with a warm, amused smile on his face.

"Ta-da!" Colin shouted, floating back down beside him, his excitement undiminished. He began circling around Superman. "Do you not age because you're Kryptonian? Wow, I can't wait to be strong and ancient to!"

Superman chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Colin's hair. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said, his voice light but tinged with curiosity. "So, this is what the future looks like for you guys, huh?"

Colin grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yep! And you’re still the strongest! I can't wait to show you some more tricks."

As Colin continued to hover, defying gravity with ease, Conner stood frozen. He hadn’t moved, his gaze locked on his son as he watched him hover so effortlessly. A strange tightness formed in his chest, bittersweet and unspoken. Colin could fly. Not with the assistance of a shield like him, but on his own. Part of Conner felt immense pride, but another part couldn’t help but feel that uncomfortable tightness deepen—a sense of longing for something he couldn’t quite articulate.

"He can fly," Conner muttered, catching the attention of CJ, who was watching his brother show off with an annoyed expression that softened when he saw his dad's reaction.

"Yeah, we found out just after Colin turned about five. That was a fun day for you two, especially since you had to chase him around the house for hours. He thought it was hilarious, but you and Papa weren’t too happy," CJ explained, his voice softer than usual.

Conner, still a bit stunned, nodded slowly. "That sounds... fun," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

CJ looked like he wanted to say more, but his Aunt Zatanna's warning and the thoughts from his conversation last night with his Papa loomed over him. Instead, he decided to change the subject.

"So, um, yeah, that's Colin—middle kid," he said, turning back to his uncles, hoping to shift the conversation.

"What about you?" Superman asked, turning his attention to CJ.

"I'm Conner Kent Junior, or CJ for short. I'm the oldest and the leader of our team," CJ replied, puffing his chest out a bit.

Everyone chuckled softly, except for Batman, though, for the smallest sliver of a moment, the corner of his lip upturned into a tiny smirk.

"And that's Camden, the youngest," CJ continued, gesturing to the toddler who was now perched on Batman's shoulder, playing with the pointed ears of his mask.

"Bat Bat," Camden repeated, his adorable smile plastered all over his face.

"Yes, I am," Batman said, his voice as flat as ever, but his expression softened just a little.

Y/N turned, catching Conner’s gaze, which remained fixed on Colin, who was still hovering effortlessly in the air. The look on Conner’s face—bittersweet and filled with a mix of pride and something else Y/N couldn’t quite place—tugged at him. It wasn’t often Conner wore his heart on his sleeve, but in this moment, the unspoken emotion in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Y/N found himself feeling something unexpected—a sudden, quiet protectiveness. It wasn’t just about Colin flying, but the realization that Conner was watching a part of his son that he could never truly share. There was no jealousy or bitterness in Y/N's own heart, only a desire to make sure Conner knew that he wasn’t alone in this, that Y/N understood.

He cleared his throat softly, stepping closer to Colin, who was still circling around Superman in excited loops. “Alright, Colin, time to come down.”

Colin, his face flushed with excitement, ignored him at first. “But Papa, I haven’t shown Uncle Clark the trick where I—”

“I said down, Colin,” Y/N interrupted, his voice taking on a particular tone. A tone he probably inherited from his own parent—the one that could stop him in his tracks as a kid, and evidently, one that worked on Colin too.

Colin froze mid-loop, his defiant expression faltering for a moment as he hovered a few feet above the ground. “But—”

“Now,” Y/N added, his voice firm yet still gentle, his gaze unwavering.

With a dramatic sigh that only an eight-year-old could muster, Colin slowly descended to the ground, landing lightly on his feet. “Fine, fine,” he muttered, crossing his arms and scowling slightly. “I was just having fun…”

Y/N smiled softly, crouching down so he was eye-level with his son. “You can show Uncle Clark more later, okay? Right now, we need to focus.”

Colin huffed but nodded, the defiance in his eyes giving way to a grudging understanding. He glanced up at Superman, who gave him an encouraging nod, and then back at his dad, the scowl easing from his face.

“Good,” Y/N said, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Thanks, kiddo.”

As Colin sulked back to his brothers, Y/N straightened, his gaze shifting back to Conner, who had been watching the exchange silently. There was a flicker of something in Conner’s eyes—surprise, maybe? Or perhaps a quiet gratitude that Y/N had stepped in, that he understood without needing Conner to say anything.

For a moment, Y/N hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken between them. It was strange, this sudden need to make sure Conner was okay. Usually, they were too busy pushing each other's buttons, too wrapped up in their own frustrations. But now, seeing the vulnerability in Conner’s expression, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the tug of something... different.

“You good?” Y/N asked quietly, his voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear.

Conner blinked, as if caught off guard by the question. His eyes flicked from Y/N to Colin, then back again. “Yeah,” he said after a moment, though his voice was softer than usual, almost contemplative. “I’m fine.”

Y/N gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. He didn’t press further, didn’t want to push. Instead, he let the silence between them linger, a silence that felt strangely comfortable for once, even with all the chaos surrounding them.

For a split second, the air between them felt... less heavy. Less filled with the usual tension. There was no sarcastic retort, no biting comment. Just... an understanding.

But before either of them could dwell on the moment, CJ, ever the instigator, piped up with his usual boundless energy. “So, can we see the Batcave now?”

Batman’s stern voice cut through the room, as calm and composed as ever. “Later.”

CJ’s shoulders slumped dramatically. “Ugh, fine...”

After introductions were made, in true Batman fashion, he had DNA tests administered to confirm what Y/N, Conner, and all their friends already knew.

"The results are conclusive," Batman announced, his voice as stoic as ever. "Superboy and Y/N are both the paternal fathers to these children."

"Well, duh," Colin replied, rolling his eyes. "We told you that. But, what does paternal mean?"

"It means they're both our dads, dummy. And there's no need to be rude, Colin," CJ admonished, his tone exasperated. "It's not like we're lying."

"Stop calling me names! You're not the boss of me," Colin shot back, his cheeks flushing with anger.

"Actually, I am. I'm the oldest, so I'm the leader," CJ countered, his voice rising.

"No, you're not," Colin argued, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes, I am," CJ insisted, his temper flaring.

"No, you're not," Colin repeated, his voice growing louder.

"Yes, I am!" CJ yelled, his voice matching his brother's volume.

"Boys," Y/N warned, his voice firm.

"Sorry, Papa," CJ and Colin replied, their voices instantly contrite.

"I can't believe this is my life," Y/N groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"It's not so bad," Conner offered, his tone surprisingly gentle. "At least they're not fighting anymore."

Y/N let out a long, dramatic sigh, rubbing his face. “Fifteen hours ago, my life was normal. Now I have three kids from the future, and one of them’s trying to order around his brothers like he’s Batman.”

Superman chuckled warmly, offering Y/N a smile that somehow practically radiated paternal understanding. “It’s just the beginning, Y/N. You’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

"You got a kid I don't know about, Clarkie?" Y/N responded with a raised brow.

Superman returned his own raised brow at the nickname. "Clarkie?"

CJ turned his head toward the two men. "He calls you that all the time. Though, you seem a lot more surprised and annoyed about it now than you do in the future."

Y/N groaned while Clark chuckled at the kid's sharp observation.

"If this is what my mother meant by my kid being the karma to me for what I was to her, I want a do-over."

"Too late for that," Conner remarked, his lips quirking into a small, amused smile.

"Would you hush?" Y/N grumbled, shooting him a half-hearted glare.

“Well, I can't wait to see how we survive this,” Wally chimed in, shooting a look at CJ and Colin. “I mean, you’ve got two kids who are basically replicas of their parents, with an equal level of emotional control. One's trying to play leader, and the other... well, let’s just say I’m seeing Conner 2.0 with a side of ‘no chill.’”

Conner shot Wally a flat look but remained silent, his arms crossed as he watched Camden poke and prod at Batman’s suit. The toddler was giggling uncontrollably, practically hanging off Bruce’s arm, tugging at his cape like it was a new toy. Meanwhile, Batman stood perfectly still, as if he didn’t even notice. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something—just a hint—that suggested he wasn’t exactly unhappy with the tiny human attached to him.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Y/N muttered, glancing at Bruce’s unflinching demeanor. “A kid hanging off Batman, and he’s... not scowling. And here I am, trying to make sense of how this is somehow my life now or going to be my life in the future.”

Zatanna stifled a laugh, leaning against the wall. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? One day you’re acting like the kid, and the next you’re trying to manage three kids.”

“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” Y/N responded, glancing down at CJ, who was still trying his best to act like the "responsible" one, even if Colin was clearly not having it.

Artemis smirked. “Maybe both. We could use the entertainment.”

Y/N groaned. “I’m not here to entertain, Artemis.”

“You’re doing a great job of it, though,” she shot back with a grin.

Just as Y/N was about to respond, the door slid open, and M’Gann entered the room, holding a tray of snacks. Her presence caused an immediate shift in the room’s atmosphere. She smiled, but it was tight, strained even, her eyes flicking toward Y/N and the kids with clear unease. “I, uh, brought these for the kids,” she said, her voice polite but distant.

CJ, who was always quick to pick up on tension, noticed M’Gann’s discomfort and shot a wary glance at his brother. Colin, oblivious as ever, simply perked up at the sight of snacks. “Snacks! Finally!” he shouted, taking a step toward M’Gann’s tray, only to be yanked back by CJ’s firm grip.

Colin pouted but didn’t argue, instead crossing his arms and muttering, “I hate it when he acts like he’s the boss.”

Y/N couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the exchange. “You’re not helping, CJ,” he muttered under his breath before his attention shifted back to M’Gann, who stood awkwardly near the doorway, the boys clearly unsure how to approach her.

Wally, noticing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. “So, Camden looks pretty comfortable over there,” he quipped, gesturing toward the tiny toddler still clinging to Batman’s shoulder. “Who knew Bruce would be such a hit with kids?”

Camden giggled, poking Bruce in the cheek. “Bat Bat!”

Batman didn’t move, though Y/N could have sworn he saw the tiniest twitch of his lips. He wasn’t exactly scowling—and in Batman terms, that was practically a smile.

“I’ll be damned,” Y/N muttered. “Yeah, I’m definitely living in some weird alternate universe.”

M’Gann, however, remained tense, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. The kids seemed to pick up on her discomfort, and though Colin’s attention was still focused on the snacks, CJ’s eyes flicked nervously between her and Y/N. There was an awkward silence, the unspoken tension between M’Gann and the family hanging in the air.

Just as Y/N considered trying to say something, the atmosphere shifted dramatically, an intense, almost suffocating pressure filling the room.

"Ahem."

The weight of the room shifted, all eyes turning to Dr. Fate, his presence more imposing than ever with the golden cape draped over him, the helmet of Nabu gleaming ominously in the dim lighting. Giovanni Zatara's mortal voice was completely gone, replaced by the booming, ethereal tone of the Lord of Order. His deep voice reverberated off the walls, demanding attention.

"This situation is not to be taken lightly," Dr. Fate intoned, his words hanging heavy in the air. "The arrival of these children from a future timeline—brought here through magic—has the potential to disrupt the balance of time and space. The consequences of their presence could ripple through the past, present, and future, with devastating results."

The lighthearted energy in the room immediately deflated, the playful mood dashed away by Fate’s dire warning. Even Camden, perched on Batman’s shoulder, seemed to sense the seriousness of the moment, his babbling quieting as he curiously played with the pointed ears of Batman's cowl.

Superman’s easygoing smile faltered, his expression shifting into one of concern. “How bad are we talking?” he asked, his voice lower and more cautious now.

Fate’s helmet tilted ever so slightly, the glowing eyes narrowing. “Temporal magic is not only complex but perilous. The smallest disruption can lead to unforeseen consequences. The longer these children remain in the past, the more likely the timeline will fracture. Their very presence risks creating divergences—events that may never occur, or worse, events that should not happen but will.”

His gaze shifted to CJ, the weight of his words intensifying. “But of greater concern is the fact that a child of his age was able to perform such a powerful spell with no guidance or oversight from his father.” The glowing eyes behind the helm seemed to bore into Y/N, though the judgment lay with CJ. “No matter who taught him, such magic should not be wielded by one so young. It requires control, experience, and most importantly, restraint—qualities that take years, if not decades, to master. And yet, he succeeded in casting it.”

Y/N swallowed hard, his attention snapping to his son, who shifted nervously under Fate’s scrutiny. The weight of the implications settled over the room like a heavy fog. CJ, barely eleven, had performed a spell far beyond what should be possible for someone his age.

Fate’s voice remained steady, but there was a dark edge to it. “That a child of his age can even wield such power in casting a spell of that magnitude without proper teaching or supervision is concerning in itself. Magic of this level, cast without the necessary experience, is not only dangerous but reckless. The consequences of a misstep—of even the slightest deviation in its execution—could have been catastrophic.”

CJ bit his lip, his earlier enthusiasm fading under the weight of Fate’s words. He looked down, guilt flickering in his eyes, as Y/N’s stomach twisted with both concern and the unspoken pressure of responsibility.

Superman and Batman exchanged glances, the levity of the moment completely gone. Batman’s expression had hardened, though the toddler still clung to his shoulder, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“I didn’t mean to—” CJ began, his voice small, but Fate held up a hand, silencing him.

“Intent matters little when tampering with forces that defy time and space,” Fate continued, his voice resonating like an ancient echo. “The fact that you were able to do so speaks to an alarming raw power within you. A power that, without proper control, poses a threat to not only yourself but everyone around you.”

Y/N inhaled deeply, his heart heavy as he took in the full weight of what Fate was saying. His son—his eleven-year-old son—had tapped into something dangerous. And though Y/N had always known CJ had potential, this was... beyond anything he could have anticipated.

Fate’s eyes glowed even brighter, his voice growing more severe. “Raw power without discipline is more dangerous than any external threat. It is chaotic, unpredictable. You acted without full comprehension of the consequences, and that is not just reckless—it is irresponsible. Your abilities, if left unchecked, could tear the fabric of time itself.”

CJ’s shoulders hunched, his earlier confidence slipping away entirely. His eyes darted toward Y/N, then to the ground, his hands trembling slightly as he wrung them together. The weight of Fate’s words was pressing down on him, hard and unrelenting. He hadn’t meant to cause any harm, hadn’t realized just how dangerous his actions could be. The gravity of the situation—of potentially damaging the timeline and putting everyone he cared about at risk—was sinking in, fast.

Fate, however, didn’t let up. His voice echoed like thunder in the stillness of the room. “You are a child. A child with access to power that can upend entire realities. Do you understand the responsibility that comes with such abilities? You cast a spell beyond your understanding—beyond what should even be possible for someone your age—and in doing so, you’ve placed the timeline, and everyone within it, in jeopardy.”

Tears welled up in CJ’s eyes, his face crumpling as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions now overwhelming him. “I-I didn’t mean to... I just wanted to see you all... I just wanted to—” His voice broke, a sob escaping before he could stop it. He wiped at his eyes, trying to stay composed, but the guilt and fear were written all over his face.

Y/N’s heart clenched at the sight. Just the night before, he’d seen how worried CJ had been about messing things up, about somehow ruining the future for him and Conner. And now, Fate’s harsh words were doing exactly that—filling the kid with an unbearable sense of guilt. Y/N could feel it rising in him—an anger that came from a place deeper than usual, that soft protectiveness from before now something fierce he couldn’t ignore.

“That’s enough,” Y/N said, his voice sharper than anyone had heard it all day. He stepped forward, grabbing CJ and pulling the boy against him who immediately wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his side, desperately trying to hide his tears. “He’s just a kid, Fate. You’ve made your point.”

Colin made his way over to his brother to comfort him, a red hue in his irises as he looked ready to blow a hole through that helmet with his pointed glare at the sorcerer, matching the glowering expression on his father’s face as the Kryptonian also took his place beside the wizard and their two kids.

Fate’s glowing eyes bore down on Y/N, his voice unwavering. “A child or not, the consequences remain. The danger—”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, his entire body tense as he held CJ protectively against him. His tone, usually layered with sarcasm or lightheartedness even in stressful moments, was now razor-sharp, the edge of it cutting through the air. It was the kind of tone that made everyone freeze, even Batman, who stood stoic but noticeably more alert, his eyes flicking to Y/N as if assessing an emerging threat.

“A child or not?” Y/N echoed, his voice dropping into something deadly quiet. “He’s a kid. And you think berating him, making him feel like he's already damned the timeline to hell is helping? He’s eleven years old, Fate. Eleven. You might not care about that, but I do. And I’ll tell you this right now: you will not make him feel like a walking disaster just because he made a mistake.”

Fate, despite his unearthly power and presence, seemed to register the shift in the atmosphere. He held his ground but didn't move forward, the glowing eyes behind the helm unreadable. “I speak only of the risks—”

“And I heard you,” Y/N interrupted, his voice still steady but with a bite that could cut through steel. “We all heard you. Loud and clear. But let me make one thing perfectly clear to you: if anyone thinks for a second that they can make my son feel like he’s some kind of ticking time bomb, they’ll have to go through me first. I don’t care if you’re wearing the Helm of Nabu, a cape, or a bat on your chest—no one, and I mean no one, gets to treat him like that.”

There was a heavy pause, the weight of Y/N’s words hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. Even Batman, who rarely showed hesitation or uncertainty, shifted slightly, his eyes flicking toward Superman as if silently communicating to be ready, just in case. Superman’s usually easygoing expression had hardened, though he was watching Y/N with a level of caution he typically reserved for far more volatile situations.

And Conner? His presence was something else entirely. If Y/N’s sharp, cutting words hadn’t been enough to put everyone on edge, Conner’s silent but simmering anger was enough to make the entire room feel ten degrees colder. His voice, when it came, was low—dangerously controlled. “You heard him,” he said, his hand resting protectively on the eleven-year-old’s shoulder. “He made a mistake, but he’s not going to stand here and be chewed out for something he didn’t fully understand. He’s our kid, Fate. Not one of your hosts that has to sit there and listen to you lecture them down.”

CJ looked up, eyes wide and brimming with tears, first at his dad and then at his papa. The anger in Conner’s voice wasn’t something he heard often—not directed like this. It was a quiet kind of anger, a controlled force that was all the more intense for how subdued it was. And that made CJ feel something else entirely: relief. Despite their obvious tense relationship in this timeline, his parents were standing up for him together, even in the face of someone as powerful as Fate.

Some things don't change even with time.

CJ sniffled quietly, his face still pressed into Y/N’s side, but it was clear the boy was taking comfort in the way both his parents stood there, a bit younger than he was used to, but still firm and unyielding. He knew the kind of power Dr. Fate held, knew that his presence alone could silence rooms, but right now, it was Y/N and Conner who were commanding the space.

Zatanna, Wally, Dick, Kaldur, and Artemis stood together, watching with bated breath as the tension in the room thickened. They had all felt a deep, instinctive protectiveness over these three since getting to know them—like an extension of their own makeshift family. But seeing Y/N and Conner, two of their closest friends, united in defense of their children? That was something else entirely. The raw intensity radiating from both men was a force of its own, sharper and more intimidating than any argument they’d ever had with each other. It was like watching two titans—formidable on their own—become unstoppable when their fury was aimed at a common enemy.

Even M’Gann, who had kept her distance from Y/N and the boys, couldn’t tear her eyes away. She crossed her arms, tension still visible in her posture, but the air crackled with something unspoken. Despite her unease, she couldn’t ignore the power shift happening right in front of them. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would happen next.

Fate’s eyes glowed brighter, but there was a brief hesitation now, as if weighing the situation. Beneath the room's tension, he could feel it—a subtle but undeniable pulse of magic rising in Y/N, simmering just beneath the surface, like a storm waiting to break. The potential that had long been sensed in him, untapped yet dangerous, now crackled in the air around him. The last thing Fate wanted was to turn someone as powerful as Y/N—given how potent his son’s magic already was—into an adversary or even a rival.

“You misunderstand—”

“No,” Y/N cut in again, sharper this time, his hand tightening around CJ’s shoulder protectively. “You misunderstand. I won’t let you stand there and intimidate my kid, make him feel like he’s already done irreversible damage just because he wanted to see his family. I get it—you’re worried about the timeline. Guess what? So are we. But if you try to guilt him, shame him, or talk to him like a liability again, I promise I will show you just how reckless I can be with my magic.”

It was the threat in Y/N’s voice—delivered in a tone that wasn’t raised, wasn’t shouted, but was filled with so much venom—that made everyone pause. Even Batman, who rarely reacted to emotional outbursts, visibly tensed. Y/N’s presence right now wasn’t just a protective father; it was something else, something primal. A warning.

Fate, still unmoving, regarded Y/N for a long moment, the glowing eyes behind the helm unreadable. Finally, the Lord of Order spoke, though his voice had lost some of its earlier authority, now more measured. “The consequences remain, but I will refrain from further...discussion. For now.”

“You’ll refrain permanently,” Y/N shot back, the edge still there. “I’m not asking.”

Conner’s eyes flicked between Fate and Y/N, his expression still cold but tempered by a quiet pride in the way Y/N had stepped up. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected Y/N to go full protective mode in a way that was somehow scarier than his own outbursts. But damn, was it effective.

After another long, tense silence, Fate finally stepped back, his glowing eyes dimming slightly as if in reluctant acceptance. “Very well. But understand this: time cannot be ignored. The longer they remain, the more unstable the timeline becomes.”

“Yeah, we get it,” Conner replied, his voice low but steely. “We’ll fix it. But don’t think for a second that we won’t protect them every step of the way.”

Fate’s gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before he turned away, his cape billowing as he floated back slightly, allowing the tension in the room to ease, if only by a fraction. Batman, still standing with Camden on his shoulder, exchanged a glance with Superman, made a motion for them to intervene now.

Superman cleared his throat softly, stepping forward with a more diplomatic tone. “Alright, let’s all take a breath. We’ve got a situation to handle, and we’re all on the same side here.”

Y/N didn’t respond, his eyes still locked on Fate for another moment before he finally exhaled, the tension in his posture easing as he turned his attention back to CJ, his voice softening instantly as he murmured to his son. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

CJ sniffled again, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, still clinging tightly to Y/N’s side. “I-I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” Y/N whispered, pulling him close. “I know you didn’t.”

Conner knelt down beside CJ, his large hand gently resting on the boy’s back. “You’re not in trouble,” he reassured him quietly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

CJ nodded, still visibly upset but calming under the combined presence of his parents.

And as the room began to shift back to a more measured tone, Y/N exchanged a glance with Conner, a silent understanding passing between them. For all their bickering and back-and-forths, they were united in this.

For now, at least, the storm had passed. But the underlying tension remained, and everyone in the room knew one thing for certain: you can poke at Y/N and Conner, but their kids? That was a line you should never cross.

After their little confrontation with Fate, and managing to calm CJ down enough, Y/N and Zatanna along with the eleven-year-old wizard headed off to their study to start doing research on the spell future Y/N created so they could send the kids back home. CJ was more than happy to be getting quality time with his magical father and aunt, completely forgetting his dour mood from before.

The rest of the group split off to the their own quests and whatnots while Batman and Fate stayed behind in the mission room to discuss a bit more. Meanwhile, Conner along with Colin and a giggly Camden who was now hanging off a Superman's shoulder, playing with his cape made their way to the lounge area so the kids could have some breakfast.

As they stepped into the living area, the atmosphere shifted slightly. It was still tense, but there was a quiet comfort that came with being away from the others, especially with the kids now more focused on food than the overwhelming situation they were all thrown into. Colin, his hair tousled and his eyes full of curiosity, plopped himself down at the dining table and immediately began stuffing his face with the nearest food he could find, which happened to be a stack of waffles. Camden, ever the cheerful toddler, giggled uncontrollably as he played with Superman’s cape, his tiny hands tugging at it like it was his new favorite toy.

Conner, however, was lost in his own thoughts. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he watched the kids. Colin’s carefree attitude was a stark contrast to the weight on his own shoulders, and he couldn't help but feel conflicted. It was strange—looking at these kids who were supposed to be his, knowing they came from a future that felt so far removed from his current reality.

Clark, noticing the heavy silence, walked over to the counter where Conner stood. His cape fluttered slightly as Camden continued to swing from it, but the Man of Steel didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered Conner a small, knowing smile.

“You seem quieter than usual,” Clark observed, his tone gentle but probing. “What’s on your mind?”

Conner let out a deep sigh, his gaze shifting to Camden, who was still laughing at Superman’s cape antics. “This whole thing... It’s just a lot to take in. I mean, I’ve barely figured out my own life, and now I’ve got three kids from the future showing up, acting like we’re some happy family.”

Clark nodded, his expression understanding. “It’s overwhelming, I’m sure. But they seem to know you—both of you—pretty well. You and Y/N. There’s... a lot of history there, and not just the tension we’ve all seen. There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

Conner stiffened slightly at the mention of Y/N. He wasn’t ready to dive into that just yet, but Clark’s gentle prodding was hard to ignore.

“Yeah,” Conner muttered, his voice tight. “History.”

Clark’s brow furrowed. “You want to talk about it?”

Conner hesitated, his arms uncrossing as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings, not even with Clark, but something about the situation—the kids, the unexpected future they were facing—made it harder to stay silent.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Conner admitted quietly, his eyes drifting to Camden, who had now taken a seat next to Colin and was trying (unsuccessfully) to eat a waffle without dropping syrup all over himself. “I mean... I had things figured out. M’Gann and I... We were good. Comfortable.”

Clark nodded slowly, letting him speak at his own pace.

“And then Y/N showed up,” Conner continued, his voice almost a whisper now. “Out of nowhere. And everything changed. I didn’t... I didn’t expect to feel anything for him. I thought I had my life planned out, you know? M’Gann and I... we were supposed to be the future. But then he came along and it was just...”

Clark’s gaze softened as he watched Conner wrestle with his thoughts. “Sudden?”

Conner nodded. “Yeah. And confusing. I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t even want to handle it.”

Clark remained quiet for a moment, letting the silence between them settle before he spoke again. “I know what it’s like to have everything you think you know shaken up. Feelings can be... complicated. And sudden, like you said. But that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

Clark remained quiet for a moment, letting the silence between them settle before he spoke again. “I know what it’s like to have everything you think you know shaken up. Feelings can be... complicated. And sudden, like you said. But that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

He paused, his gaze softening. "You know, when you first came into our lives, it was a shock—especially for me. No one expected it, the way you were discovered, and suddenly becoming a part of my life that I didn't know how to accept. And because of that, I wasn’t... exactly welcoming, was I?" Clark’s voice grew quieter, the regret in his tone unmistakable. "I didn’t handle it well at all. I remember Batman trying to have this talk with me about how I needed to be there for you, cause the transition you were going through was tough, but I didn't want to listen. It made me uncomfortable—angry even—and I let that get in the way of treating you the way you deserved."

Clark’s voice faltered slightly, the weight of those memories heavy. "I distanced myself. I barely talked to you, and when I did, it was cold, indifferent. And I know that hurt you. I can see now how much of a toll that took on you." He looked Conner in the eye, the sincerity in his expression clear.

Conner shifted uncomfortably at the memory, the wound of Clark’s initial indifference still raw even after all these years. His fists clenched slightly as Clark continued.

"And because of that," Clark added gently, "I pushed you away. I made you feel like you weren’t wanted, like you didn’t belong. That’s on me and I was wrong to do that. Now, this whole interesting scenario and being a witness to some of you and Y/N's expressive disagreements, I'm wondering if, in a way, you were doing the same thing to Y/N that I did to you." His tone wasn’t accusatory, but the weight of his words hung between them. "You and I... we’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we? What I’m saying is, sometimes the most unexpected blessings come from the most unexpected places."

Conner’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting to the table where Colin was still busy devouring his waffles. The kid looked so carefree, so unaffected by the tension in the air.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Conner admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Being a dad... being with Y/N... It’s all too much.”

As if sensing the weight of the conversation, Colin paused mid-bite and glanced up at his dad and uncle.

Colin smiled, his eyes bright. "Dad, can I have some apple juice?"

Conner blinked, the question catching him off guard. "Uh, yeah. Sure." He turned, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with the apple juice from the fridge. He handed it to Colin, who took it eagerly.

"Thank you!" Colin chirped, taking a sip.

Conner watched Colin, his eyes narrowing as the boy eagerly drank his juice, his messy dark hair falling into his eyes. The kid was a near replica of Y/N—sharp features, the same mischievous grin, and that glint of playful defiance. But even with all of Y/N’s traits so clearly stamped on his face, Conner could see bits of himself too. In the way Colin held himself, a certain stubbornness, and the unmistakable spark of defiance in his eyes that promised trouble wherever he turned. The thought made him both proud, and a little nervous. It was like looking into a mirror, one that reflected not just his own past but Y/N's influence as well, creating something that was uniquely theirs.

As Conner’s thoughts swirled, Camden toddled over, his tiny feet padding against the floor as he made his way to his father. Without warning, Camden jumped up, grabbing onto Conner's arm with a delighted giggle. Conner caught him easily, his big hand wrapping protectively around his youngest son as Camden snuggled against him, giggling softly. The warmth of the moment momentarily pulled Conner out of his anxious thoughts, grounding him in the simplicity of Camden’s affection. Less than 24 hours and the move was almost instinctive—the way he cradled Camden close, his strong arms wrapping around the small boy like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Clark, standing nearby, observed the scene with a faint smile. The ease with which Conner held Camden, the tenderness in his normally stoic expression—it was a side of him Clark rarely saw. It was a glimpse of something deeper, something real and undeniable. "Well, I wouldn't use the word ready, seeing as you're still young and have a lot to learn, from this point of view, you seem just fine to me," Clark commented softly, his voice filled with pride and reassurance. Conner looked over at his mentor, the weight of his worries momentarily lifting as he realized, despite everything, this—being a father—might not be as overwhelming as it seemed.

Clark’s smile softened, and he straightened himself out from his crouched position over the counter, “No one’s ever ready. But that doesn’t mean you’re not capable of handling it. You’ve always been stronger than you think, Conner. And look at them—” He gestured to Colin and Camden, who were now both completely focused on the plate of food in front of them. “You’ve done something right if these two turned out this way.”

Colin, oblivious to the compliment, wiped syrup from his chin and glanced up again. “Dad, you think too much,” he said plainly, as if stating an obvious fact.

Conner blinked in surprise, and Clark let out a soft laugh. “Out of the mouths of babes.”

Colin, sensing he was being teased, shot a quick glare at his uncle before turning back to his plate. “Papa says the same thing. You’re always thinking and not saying how you feel. Maybe you should try that. Just... you know, say what you’re thinking.”

Conner stared at his son for a moment, the kid’s words sinking in. It wasn’t just a child’s naive observation—it was Y/N’s influence. Y/N had always been the one to push him, to force him to face things he didn’t want to. And now, even through their future children, that push was still there, urging him to stop hiding and start feeling.

“I’ll think about it,” Conner finally said, his voice softer now, more thoughtful.

Colin nodded as if that was enough, shoving another bite of waffle into his mouth.

Clark stood up, giving Conner a knowing look. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

Conner didn’t reply, but the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. For the first time since the kids had arrived, he didn’t feel completely overwhelmed. It wasn’t easy—nothing ever was when it came to his feelings, especially when Y/N was involved—but maybe, just maybe, he could figure it out.

The kids kept eating, and for the first time that morning, the tension in the air seemed to ease. There were still questions left unanswered, still emotions to sort through, but for now, Conner let himself breathe. Clark’s words, and Colin’s surprisingly wise insight, lingered with him.

Maybe he had been thinking too much. Maybe it was time to start doing.

Conner stood outside the study Zatanna and Y/N used to study and practice their magic, his hand hovering over the knob. He stood frozen just in front of the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he listened to the low murmur of voices from inside. His pulse quickened as he took a deep breath, steeling himself. He knew he couldn't avoid Y/N forever, but the thought of facing him, of confronting the mess of emotions swirling in his chest, was almost too much.

It had been a few hours since his conversation with Superman and the advice from his middle son, and already it felt like his courage was slipping away, drowning under the weight of old insults, arguments, and uncertainty. The thought of facing Y/N, of peeling back the layers of resentment they had built up over time, felt like an insurmountable task.

He'd already been by 15 minutes earlier, coming to grab CJ so the kid could also eat before heading back to help his Papa and Aunt with the spell to return them to their original timeline. But something about seeing Y/N, the look he'd been giving him since this morning, made Conner hesitate in returning to the room to talk to him. There was an intensity in Y/N's gaze that rattled him—like the magic user could see right through him, past the facade of indifference, straight into the mess of emotions swirling beneath the surface. It wasn’t a glare, not exactly, but something sharper, more discerning. And it unnerved Conner in a way he wasn't used to.

Anger, frustration—those were familiar. He could work with those. They fueled him, gave him something to push against. But this? This nervous, anxious feeling? That was foreign territory. Normally, when he got anxious, he'd channel it into anger—yelling, snapping, getting into yet another argument with Y/N. But here, standing outside the door, knowing what he needed to do and how he should approach it... it made his stomach churn. Because as much as he hated to admit it, every time he reacted in anger, he realized it only proved Y/N right. And the last thing he wanted to do now was give the smart-ass a reason to smugly say "I told you so" over and over until who knows what end.

He may be irrational at times, but he wasn't dumb. And his pride could only take so much.

No, Conner needed to do this right. But how was he supposed to do that when it felt like his nerves were crawling under his skin, making it impossible to think straight?

He exhaled slowly, trying to steady his nerves. Just as his hand tightened around the knob, ready to push the door open, his superhearing picked that moment to tune in on the conversation happening inside.

"Conner? Attractive?" Y/N’s voice cut through the muffled conversation, a sarcastic edge to his tone. "Yeah, I thought so. Once. You know, back before he treated me like I wasn’t worth his time. I don't understand how this seems funny to only me. How people can just… change their tune overnight. One day, I was just a nobody on the team to him, then when I start treating him the same way, suddenly, it's like I'm the only one on the team—but for all the wrong reasons."

Conner’s heart skipped a beat, his grip tightening on the knob, but he didn’t turn it. Instead, he leaned closer, his superhearing focusing in on the conversation and the harsh but strained sound of Y/N's words.

"Y/N..." Zatanna’s voice came through softly, as if she was trying to comfort him.

"No, seriously," Y/N continued, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You can't not admit how funny and ironic this whole situation is. Me and Conner, together? The universe could not come up with a more hilarious joke."

Conner froze at Y/N's words, his stomach knotting as he strained to hear more. His pulse quickened, the sarcastic bite in Y/N’s tone cutting deeper than he expected. That bitterness, though, the strain in it—that was what really threw him off. It wasn’t just sarcasm for sarcasm’s sake. It was the sound of someone who’d been hurt and was still trying to laugh it off, even when the pain was clearly bleeding through the cracks.

Inside, Zatanna’s voice came through, softer now but insistent, a mix of empathy and reason. “Y/N, come on. You’re not being fair to him—or to yourself. I know Conner wasn’t exactly Mr. Warmth when you first joined, but you gave it right back to him. And you have to admit, a lot of the time, you weren’t just defending yourself.”

Y/N snorted, and Conner could almost see the exasperation on his face. “Oh, really? What would you call it then, Z? I was supposed to just sit back and take it? Let him look through me like I didn’t exist? And then when I finally matched his indifference, suddenly, I'm the bad guy?” His voice grew more animated, like the floodgates of resentment had been opened. “I didn’t ask for any of this! I didn’t ask to feel anything for him. Hell, the attraction I had? I thought it was done the second he made it clear I didn’t matter. But then... now? When I’ve finally learned to put a wall up, he wants to start giving me these long and sad looks like I'm supposed to feel sympathy for him. Zatanna, we'd literally just got sidelined by Bats not even a few hours earlier because me and him could not stop fighting on the mission. Don't think I didn't see all of your tired and annoyed looks while me and him kept screaming at each other."

Conner’s stomach twisted painfully, a knot of guilt and frustration coiling tighter with every word. He wasn't even in the room and he could feel the weight of Y/N’s resentment settling on his chest, like Y/N was saying all of this directly to him, staring him straight in his blue eyes. It felt heavy and suffocating.

Hearing Y/N talk about his walls, about the way he felt forced to build them up—it stung in a way the Kryptonian wasn’t prepared for. He had always thought their arguments, their constant bickering, were just a reflection of their differences, not realizing how deeply he had hurt Y/N in the process.

Of course, this was the moment when he was reminded of Superman's words from before about how he’d treated him in the beginning when Dick, Wally, and Kal broke him out of Cadmus. It just made the sting feel worse, considering Conner knew exactly how Y/N was feeling because his mentor had once made him feel the exact same way, even if their circumstances were a bit different.

And now, to hear that Y/N had once felt something for him—attraction even—only to have it turn into this bitter, sarcastic shield... It made Conner feel like he had been blind to it all, and now he was paying for it, unable to untangle the mess he’d helped create.

Zatanna sighed. “I’m not saying he didn’t screw up, Y/N. We both know Conner can be... complicated, especially with his emotions. But you’re not being honest with yourself either.” Her tone was gentle but firm. “You built that wall out of your own fear too. You’re as stubborn as he is. He pushed you away, and you pushed back just as hard.”

Y/N groaned, clearly growing frustrated with the direction of the conversation. “Look, Z, I’m not saying I’m perfect, alright? But do you blame me? Every time I tried to be decent, I got shut down. Every time I tried to be patient, I got a door slammed in my face. And now—now we’re supposed to pretend like none of that happened? Like the past just doesn’t exist because we’ve got some kids from a future I can’t even picture?” His voice wavered for a moment, a crack in his bravado. “You, him, and everyone else must have a lot of faith in me if you think I want to sign myself up for something like that just because three little boys popped in from the future to tell us our fortunes! And you know what? You really shouldn't, because I don’t want to live in a world where I have to constantly wonder in the back of my mind if I’m worth someone’s time or if they’re suddenly going to change their tune at the drop of a dime because of this, that, and whatever the hell the third might be! I’m not going to live like that. And if that means walking away from all this, then so be it. The kids will get over it. Shoot, they won't even be here to see it!”

Conner’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles going white as Y/N’s words echoed in his ears. The frustration bubbled up inside him, twisting and coiling into something darker, something harder to control. Y/N’s dismissal of the kids—their kids, his sons—like they were some temporary nuisance, some fleeting inconvenience that would disappear once this whole mess was over, set Conner's blood boiling. He could feel the anger rising in his chest, threatening to burst out in a way that had always felt second nature to him, the way it always had when he and Y/N fought.

But this? This wasn’t just about him anymore. It wasn’t just another fight between him and Y/N where they could trade barbs and insults like it was some kind of sparring match. No. Now it felt personal in a way that cut deeper than all their previous arguments combined. Y/N wasn’t just throwing him under the bus with his biting words and sarcastic remarks—he was dismissing the future that their kids came from, the life that, according to CJ, Colin, and Camden, they were supposed to build together. Y/N wasn’t just rejecting him. He was rejecting all of it—the family, the possibility, the kids—and that hurt worse than anything Conner had ever felt before.

He couldn’t tell if the anger in his chest was fueled more by his own pain or by the thought of the kids overhearing something like this. What would Colin think if he knew Y/N felt this way? The kid who loved his parents more than anyone. Or Camden? Did Y/N consider for one second how CJ would feel, knowing that boy practically looks up to and tries to follow every step his Papa takes? This would absolutely destroy all three of them, especially the oldest one. The thought of Y/N throwing them aside like a passing inconvenience tore at him, and Conner had to fight every instinct and nerve in his body telling him to march into that room and turn the whole conversation into an all-out brawl.

Inside, Zatanna’s voice softened, but there was a slight edge to it now, the first sign of her patience wearing thin. "Y/N... that's not fair to the kids and you know it. You already told me how CJ talked to you last night and how terrified he is of him and his brothers interfering. You know this will only break him. He, Colin, and Camden practically worship the ground you and Conner walk on. They didn’t ask for this any more than you did. And you’re right, you didn’t sign up for this, but you can’t just treat them like they're some temporary burden. They're your family too, no matter how far in the future it may be. You see how CJ looks up to you, how protective Colin already is of not just his brothers but his parents as well. A trait I'm sure he more than gets from his father. They’re real, Y/N, and they’re here. You can't just wish them away because you're scared of what this means for you and Conner."

There was a beat of silence, and Conner could almost imagine Y/N gritting his teeth, wrestling with the emotions he so desperately tried to hide behind sarcasm and bravado.

"Yeah, well, I didn’t ask to have my life turned upside down, Zatanna," Y/N shot back, his voice cracking just enough to betray the vulnerability underneath. "I didn’t ask for kids to show up and tell me I’m supposed to end up with someone who can’t stand me half the time! I didn’t ask to be put in a position where the second I feel like I can breathe, I’m right back at square one wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now."

Conner felt like he was suffocating, standing there just outside the door, torn between barging in and finally letting all the anger and hurt pour out or walking away before he said or did something that couldn’t be taken back. His heart hammered in his chest, the fury building alongside the urge to just smash something, anything, to release the pressure that was pushing down on him. But he couldn’t. Not like this.

Zatanna sighed heavily, the sound filled with both exasperation and empathy. "I get it, Y/N. I do. This situation isn’t fair to you. It’s a lot. And I don’t envy the position you’re in. But pushing Conner and the kids away isn’t the answer. You’re scared, and I get that too, but don’t let fear make decisions for you. You care about them—I know you do, even if you won’t admit it. And maybe—just maybe—you need to stop fighting against this so hard and try to see it from Conner’s side. You might find that you’re not as alone in this as you think."

Y/N let out a bitter chuckle. "Alone? You think I’m not alone? Have you seen how we’ve been? Every time I try to meet him halfway, I get shut down. Every single time. I’m done fighting for something that’s never going to work. He’s made that clear. Hell, if it weren’t for the kids being here, I wouldn’t even be considering any of this! Tell me, Z, in what world do you see me and Conner—two people who are always at each other's throats—sharing a bed for absolutely no reason at all. I'm surprised nothing in my room was broken or destroyed by the time the sun came up."

Conner’s jaw tightened. So that’s it, huh? The only reason Y/N was even still in this mess was because of the kids. That was the line. That was the breaking point. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the frustration turning to anger, sharp and hot. His vision blurred at the edges as he fought the overwhelming urge to kick the door down, to confront Y/N and make him understand how wrong he was.

But what would that solve? Another fight? Another shouting match that would just end with more resentment and more unresolved tension between them? He couldn’t do that again. Not now. Not after hearing everything Y/N had just said.

But walking away wasn’t an option either.

Zatanna’s voice softened again, but there was a weariness in it now. "Y/N, I get it. You're angry, you're hurt. But saying things like that—about the kids, about their future—it’s not fair to them or to yourself. You’re scared of getting hurt again, but pushing everyone away isn’t going to protect you. It’s just going to make things worse."

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other side of the door. Conner’s heart pounded in his ears, the conflicting emotions swirling inside him like a storm. Part of him wanted to scream, to let Y/N know exactly how wrong he was. But another part of him—the part that had heard the hurt in Y/N’s voice, the vulnerability behind the sarcasm—wanted to do something else entirely. Something that scared him just as much.

Before Conner could make a decision, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. He turned just in time to see Wally, Dick, and Artemis heading toward him. Wally raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting between Conner and the closed door. "Uh... everything okay, man?"

Conner stiffened, his fists still clenched. "I... it’s fine."

Dick frowned, clearly unconvinced. "We need you in the mission room. Batman just got a hit on something. It’s big."

Artemis glanced toward the study door, her sharp eyes catching the tension in Conner’s stance. She gave him a knowing look before she stepped forward. "I’ll go get Y/N and Zatanna."

Conner wanted to protest, wanted to stop her, but he couldn’t find the words. Before he knew it, Artemis had already knocked and entered the room, leaving him standing there with his heart still racing and his mind still tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

A moment later, Y/N emerged, his eyes immediately finding Conner's like a magnet. There was a flash of something in his expression, but it was gone before Conner could even begin to decipher it. Y/N brushed past him without a word, his shoulders tense and his jaw set.

Conner watched him go, the anger and frustration still simmering beneath the surface. And as they turned to leave for the mission room, the Kryptonian couldn’t help but glance toward Y/N in front of him, his retreating back a stark reminder of the distance between them. His anger hadn’t faded—it still simmered just beneath the surface—but there was something else now too. Something he couldn’t quite name. Something that made it impossible to walk away, no matter how much he wanted to.

And that scared him more than anything.

Batman’s gaze remained locked on the multiple video feeds displayed across the console, his usual stoic expression growing more grim by the second. "Late yesterday, our computers picked up on a surge of interesting reports," he began. "People reporting their cars stolen or missing, wild animal sightings, and sudden changes in temperature. At first, we thought they were isolated and random events. But we kept an eye on them just in case it turned out to be more."

Kaldur, ever the attentive listener, leaned in slightly. "They turned out to be more?"

"Much more," Batman responded, his fingers swiftly typing across the console to pull up a series of chaotic images and videos from Boston. The entire team turned to face the screens as footage of cars, objects, and even large pieces of buildings being torn apart and flung into the air played on the screen. More clips followed—animals that clearly weren’t native to the area running rampant through the streets, attacking anything in sight. The streets themselves seemed warped, as parks and intersections were transformed into different ecosystems—a tundra, a jungle, and even a volcanic landscape, each more out of place than the last.

"A small number of the Justice League was deployed early this morning to respond to these incidents," Batman continued, pulling up a map showing the spread of the chaos. "But the situation has only escalated. The environments are not only unstable, they’re... evolving. What started as small, localized disruptions has grown into widespread chaos. And they’re intensifying by the hour."

Artemis crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. "How bad are we talking?"

"Bad," Batman said, turning to face the team fully. "I believe the warning we received from Doctor Fate had more merit to it than we hoped." The mention of Fate caused a ripple of tension through the room. "He believes we’re dealing with an ancient magical anomaly, something that hasn't been seen in centuries, and that these chaotic events are due to the arrival of our... special guests." His eyes flicked briefly toward CJ, Colin, and Camden.

The kids stiffened at the mention, exchanging glances.

"Wait... you’re saying this is because of us?" Colin asked, his tone tinged with both confusion and worry.

Batman’s response was direct. "Yes. The random reports and strange events started just last night. We weren't aware at the time, but the beginning of these events coincides with the time you three arrived." His voice didn’t carry accusation, just facts. But the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

CJ’s expression remained strangely neutral, though Y/N noticed something in his son’s eyes—something like understanding, but not the kind of fear or confusion he would expect. Y/N’s gaze lingered on CJ for a moment, but he didn’t say anything.

"So, what do we do?" Conner asked, his expression hardening.

Y/N's eyes flicked to Conner, catching the hard edge in his voice, the tension unmistakable. It wasn’t just the situation weighing on him; there was something deeper, something personal brewing beneath the surface. And Y/N wasn’t the only one who noticed. Colin's gaze dropped, his usual mischievous energy dulled as the weight of responsibility settled on his young shoulders. CJ, however, remained quiet, still unreadable, though Y/N could feel the tension radiating from him like a coiled spring.

Batman didn’t miss the shift either. His voice remained calm, but there was an urgency to it now. "We need to stabilize the situation in Boston before it spreads. Many members of the Justice League haven’t reported back, and their silence is concerning. The biggest problem, though, isn't just the animals or the environmental disruptions." He pressed a button on the console, and the screen shifted to show a massive tear in the sky over Boston. A swirling, violent rift of dark energy hovered ominously above the city, crackling with magic. "A magical rift has opened, centered over Boston. That rift is the source of the anomalies."

The team stared at the image, eyes wide. The rift pulsed with a dark energy that made the hair on the back of Y/N’s neck stand on end just by looking at it.

"The entire Justice League was sent out to respond," Batman explained, "but we haven’t heard back from them for some time. There’s been radio silence from their end for the last thirty minutes."

"That’s not good," Dick muttered under his breath.

"No, it isn’t," Batman agreed. "I'm sending you all there immediately to investigate and intervene. But..." He turned his gaze to Y/N. "Zatanna will stay behind to continue working on the spell with CJ’s assistance. I believe sending them back home to their timeline may be the only way to stop these anomalies for good."

CJ’s expression remained passive, though Y/N noticed the way Colin stiffened at the mention of going home, his eyes wide and filled with guilt.

"We don’t want to mess things up," Colin whispered, his voice tight.

Y/N placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, this isn’t your fault, Colt. We’re gonna fix this."

Colin’s worried expression softened as a small smile crept across his face, and next to him, CJ’s lips curled into a matching grin. They exchanged a quick look before turning back to their father, the tension from a moment ago fading slightly. Y/N caught the change in their demeanor, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What are you two smiling about?" he asked, his voice gentle but curious. Colin glanced at CJ before looking up at Y/N. "You called me 'Colt,'" he said, his grin widening. "That’s the nickname we came up with in the future. You always call me that." CJ nodded in agreement, his own smile reflecting the same fondness.

Y/N blinked at the revelation, a strange warmth spreading through his chest at the thought that, in some future timeline, he and Colin had this kind of bond. It felt oddly natural, like he was slipping into a role he hadn’t quite realized he was ready for. Colin and CJ were still smiling, their expressions lighter, and for a brief moment, Y/N let himself feel the weight of their affection. It was... nice, for a brief moment.

He opened his mouth to say something—maybe a teasing remark about how he should’ve guessed the kids would come up with such a cool nickname—but the seriousness of the situation quickly pulled him back. They were still in the midst of chaos, after all. His gaze shifted to the rest of the team, and that familiar, nervous tension returned to his gut.

Before Y/N could say anything further, Batman's voice sliced through the air, firm and commanding. "Alright, we can’t waste any more time," he said, cutting off any brewing conversations or potential arguments. "You'll be split into two teams based on your abilities. Here’s how this will work."

The room fell silent, everyone turning their attention to him. "Aqualad," Batman continued, locking his eyes on the Atlantean, "you’ll lead the first team to handle ground operations along with Superboy, Kid Flash, and Artemis. Your focus is handling the anomalies, managing the chaos, and protecting civilians. Also, locate any League members and assist them as needed. Keep them safe and minimize further damage. Use whatever resources you need."

The room remained tense as Batman continued, his gaze shifting toward Y/N. "Y/N, you’ll lead the second team with Robin and Miss Martian. Your task is to deal with the rift directly. It’s magical in nature, and based on what we know, you’re the only one with the necessary skills to close it. Miss Martian will assist with psychic communication, and Robin will handle any technical or tactical complications."

Y/N nodded, his expression serious. "Got it."

Before Y/N or anyone else could move, Conner’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and unyielding. "No way. Y/N, you’re staying here with the kids."

Y/N blinked, standing up from where he knelt beside Colin, his brows knitting together. "Excuse me?"

Conner crossed his arms, his expression firm and unwavering. "You’re not going to Boston. You’re staying here."

Around them, the tension in the room skyrocketed. Zatanna and Artemis exchanged uneasy glances, while Wally shifted on his feet, clearly bracing himself. Everyone knew what was coming; the team instinctively prepared for another explosive clash.

Y/N narrowed his eyes, frustration building in his chest. "And why exactly would I stay behind when I’m one of the only people here who understands how to deal with magical threats?"

"Because I’m not letting you get caught in the middle of this while our kids are here!" Conner snapped, his voice rising.

Y/N’s jaw clenched. "I’m not some helpless bystander, Conner. I can handle myself, and right now, the rift is the priority."

"The kids are the priority!" Conner shot back, his eyes blazing. "I’m not letting you go out there and risk your life when our sons are—"

"Enough." Batman’s voice cut through the argument like a knife, sharp and commanding. He stepped between the two of them, his gaze stern. "Y/N is the only one who might be able to close the rift. His magic is directly tied to the arrival of CJ, Colin, and Camden. If the rift was caused by their presence here, then Y/N’s magic may be the only thing capable of closing it."

Conner glared at Batman, his fists clenched tight enough that his knuckles turned white. "Then I'm going with him."

Batman didn't flinch. His tone was calm but firm, the kind of authority that couldn’t be ignored. "No, you're not. You're needed on the ground, dealing with the environmental and animal threats. This is a magical anomaly, and the team needs someone with the expertise to handle that. That's Y/N."

"I'm not letting him go alone," Conner growled, taking a step forward as if challenging the decision.

Batman’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerously low register. "You're not the one who makes that decision, Conner. And Y/N won’t be alone. Robin and Miss Martian will be with him, along with any League members still on the scene. They'll ensure he has the support he needs."

Before Conner could respond, CJ stepped forward, tugging at his dad's arm. "Dad, it’s okay," he said, his voice steady in a way that was unnerving for a kid his age. "Papa's strong. He'll be fine. He’s got this." CJ’s quiet confidence washed over Conner like a calming wave, his blue eyes—so much like Conner’s own—looking up at him with unwavering trust.

Y/N noticed the subtle exchange, his gaze lingering on CJ. Something in the boy’s demeanor, that calm assurance, struck Y/N once again. But he held back from saying anything, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand. Conner, for his part, let out a deep breath, his posture softening slightly, though the tension in his shoulders remained.

Before anyone could take a step forward, a small voice broke through the tense silence. "Papa... Daddy..." Camden’s soft, trembling voice wavered as he looked between Y/N and Conner, his tiny hands clutching the hem of his father’s shirt. His wide eyes brimmed with tears, lip quivering as the realization settled in—both his parents were leaving. "No go," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "Stay wif me. No go."

Y/N immediately knelt down beside his youngest, his heart twisting at the sight of Camden’s tears. He reached out, gently cupping the little boy's cheek. "Hey, hey, it’s okay, Cam. Papa’s not going anywhere forever. We’re just going to fix the big problem, and then we’ll come right back. Okay?"

But Camden wasn’t having it. His small hands reached out, grabbing onto Y/N’s shirt as if to anchor him in place. "Noooo, Papa! No go! Stay wif Cam!" The words came out in hiccuping sobs, and before Y/N could even respond, Conner had already knelt down beside them.

"It’s okay, bud," Conner murmured, his voice softer than anyone had heard it in a while. He gently lifted Camden into his arms, holding him close against his chest. "We’ll both be back before you know it. Aunt Zatanna’s gonna take care of you while we’re gone, alright? You’ll be safe."

Camden buried his face in Conner’s neck, his tiny body shaking with sobs. "Nooo... wanna stay wif Daddy... Papa..." His babbles were barely coherent now, muffled by Conner’s shirt as his small fists clung to him.

Y/N’s chest tightened at the sight of Camden’s tears, the sound of his son’s soft sobs tugging at his heart in a way nothing else could. But he forced a reassuring smile, placing a hand on Camden’s back. "We’ll be back really soon, okay, Camden? Aunt Z can show you some new magic tricks while we’re gone. How does that sound?"

Zatanna stepped forward, her expression soft and understanding. She held out her arms toward Camden, her tone gentle as she addressed him. "Hey there, big guy. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit? We’ll have fun, I promise."

After a few more moments of coaxing from both his parents, Camden finally loosened his grip, his tear-streaked face still buried against Conner's shoulder. Slowly, hesitantly, Conner passed him over to Zatanna, though the little boy still whimpered softly as she took him into her arms. "You’ll be okay, Cam," Conner whispered, brushing a hand through Camden’s dark hair before stepping back.

Y/N couldn’t help but watch the way Conner handled Camden, the tenderness in his touch, the quiet murmurs of reassurance, so different from the fire and stubbornness that had flared just moments ago. It was strange—how easily Conner shifted from the abrasive, hot-headed fighter to the soft-spoken, caring father. And despite all the chaos, despite the argument they’d nearly launched into, Y/N felt a tug of something deep in his chest. Fatherhood, it seemed, suited Conner more than Y/N would have expected. The Kryptonian’s natural protectiveness extended beyond just brute force; it was in the way he held Camden close, the way he whispered calm reassurances, like every word was meant to soothe the little boy’s fears. For a moment, Y/N almost forgot about the mission ahead.

He shook the thought away as Zatanna cradled Camden in her arms, the young boy finally quieting down, his hiccups slowing as Zatanna whispered softly to him. "I’ll keep an eye on them," she said to Y/N and Conner, her voice steady. "They’ll be safe here. Focus on what you need to do."

Y/N nodded, giving her a grateful look. "Thanks, Z." He turned to CJ and Colin, offering them a reassuring smile. "You two behave, alright? Help Aunt Z as much as you can."

CJ gave a small nod, his usual calm demeanor still present, though Y/N noticed the subtle determination in his expression. Colin, on the other hand, tried to put on a brave face, but Y/N could see the worry flickering in his eyes. "We’ll be okay," Colin said, though his voice wavered slightly. "Just... come back quick, okay?"

"Promise," Y/N replied softly, ruffling Colin’s hair before stepping back. He exchanged a final glance with Conner, their earlier tension still simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something unspoken between them—an understanding, however fragile, that they would both fight for their kids, for each other, even if they didn’t always agree.

Batman’s voice broke the moment, pulling them back to the task at hand. "Time to move. We’ve already lost too much time."

With a final look at his family, Y/N squared his shoulders and turned toward the zeta tube, the familiar swirl of light surrounding him as he prepared to confront the chaos in Boston.

The mission was a disaster before it even started.

The moment they arrived on the scene, it was like stepping into a nightmare—or worse, a magical hurricane on steroids. Boston wasn’t just in chaos; it was in pieces. Buildings hovered mid-air, entire streets warped into bizarre, shifting landscapes, and what looked like glowing neon vines were spreading across the city like it had been chosen as the set for an apocalyptic rave.

The team didn’t even have time to blink before they were hit with a wave of magical energy, the force of it sending shivers down their spines. Y/N, standing at the forefront, felt the familiar buzz of magic, but this was different. Wild. Unhinged. It was like a thousand magical threads all pulling in different directions, completely untethered. He could sense the power surging through the air, crackling with energy that had no business being there.

“What the hell is this?” Kid Flash muttered, staring at a car that was literally floating by like a balloon.

"Language," Robin chimed in, though he was just as unnerved.

Kid Flash shot Robin an unimpressed look. “Really? Now you’re pulling that?”

Robin gave a sheepish shrug, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, force of habit. The kids, you know?"

Conner scanned the area, his jaw clenched. "This isn't just magic. It’s chaos."

Y/N grimaced, eyes narrowing. "It’s more than that. The magic from the rift is spiraling out of control and destabilizing everything. Warping reality all around us.”

"Three kids caused all of this?" Artemis asked, incredulous.

"Well, technically, they haven't been born yet," Kid Flash pointed out. "So, yep, sounds about right."

As they moved deeper into the city, it became clear that nothing was untouched by the rift. People ran through the streets, some of them glowing as if they'd been hit with magical radiation, others transforming into strange, otherworldly creatures. One moment, a guy sprinted past them, looking normal enough—until he sprouted wings and took off into the sky like it was a completely rational thing to do on a Tuesday morning.

“Is that dude... part bird now?” Kid Flash asked, not even bothering to mask the disbelief in his voice.

Y/N watched with a mix of panic and fascination. “Yeah, it looks like it. That’s the kind of magical chaos we’re dealing with. Try to keep up.”

The air crackled again, and with each step closer to the rift, the environment shifted more dramatically. It wasn’t just the people being affected—entire blocks were freezing over in seconds, only to melt and turn into jungles or deserts moments later. One building seemed to be trapped in time, flickering between its current state and what looked like a medieval fortress.

It was like reality itself had been thrown into a blender, and someone had hit the highest speed setting.

Aqualad’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and focused. “We need to split up now! Artemis, Kid Flash, Superboy—fan out. We need to get people to safety and keep a lookout for any members of the Justice League. Y/N, Robin, Miss Martian—head for the rift. We’ll cover your flank.”

Superboy hesitated, his gaze lingering on Y/N as he nodded. There was something in Conner’s eyes—concern, frustration, maybe both—but Y/N couldn’t focus on that right now. He had his task, and the last thing he needed was to get distracted by Conner’s protective streak. Conner opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, but Y/N gave him a quick, determined nod before heading off toward the rift with Robin and Miss Martian in tow.

The team split off, each group moving with purpose through the chaotic cityscape. Superboy’s fists clenched as he watched Y/N disappear into the swirling madness ahead. "Be careful," he muttered under his breath, though Y/N was already too far to hear it.

As Aqualad led the others into the thick of the chaos, they dodged bursts of energy and tried to maintain a safe path for the civilians. Kid Flash darted from person to person, grabbing anyone who looked even remotely human and speeding them to the nearest shelter that wasn’t floating or shifting between realities. “Dude, this is like a magical acid trip gone wrong,” he muttered, dodging a glowing tree root that suddenly shot out from the ground.

“Stay focused, Kid,” Aqualad called over his shoulder. “We need to find the rest of the Justice League.”

Artemis fired a volley of arrows, knocking aside a swarm of neon-colored birds that were swooping down toward the civilians. As she reloaded, she glanced over at Superboy, who was busy punching a giant, glowing slug-like creature into the pavement. She watched as he ripped a car door off with far more force than necessary, letting the terrified people inside scramble out. "Hey, Supey, you doing okay?"

Superboy grunted, his fists clenching as the creature writhed beneath him. "Fine."

But he wasn't fine. Not even close. Every punch he threw was fueled by more than just the chaos around them. It was the gnawing worry at the back of his mind—twisting tighter with each passing second. The rift, the magic, Y/N out there somewhere—too close to the danger, too exposed. And then there was the conversation he'd overheard earlier, still simmering beneath the surface like a hot ember he couldn’t put out. Every word Y/N had said, the sarcasm and bitterness, how he had basically dismissed everything that had happened like it was nothing, felt like salt in an open wound.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen, and the thought of being away from Y/N while he faced that rift felt like trying to fight with one arm tied behind his back. Worse, part of him was still angry—angry at Y/N for throwing up those walls, for acting like none of it mattered. But what made it worse was that Conner couldn’t tell if he was more furious at Y/N or at himself for not realizing how deep those scars ran.

His anger and worry mixed into a volatile blend, and every punch, every kick was a release he desperately needed. But none of it made him feel better.

"You sure?" Artemis pressed, her tone cautious as she loosed another arrow. "Because you seem a little tense."

"I'm fine," Superboy repeated, though his jaw tightened with each word, his voice a little more clipped than before. He slammed the slug creature into the ground again, more aggressively than necessary, trying to focus on the task at hand. But no matter how hard he hit, it didn’t stop the weight pressing on his chest—the same weight that had settled in the moment Y/N disappeared into the chaos.

Conner just wanted to get this over with, to punch his way through every problem and make sure Y/N was okay. But magic wasn’t something he could punch. And that made him feel powerless. Useless.

"Uh-huh." Artemis wasn’t convinced, but she knew better than to push him when he was like this. She pulled back another arrow, this time aiming for a cluster of glowing tentacles slithering toward a nearby building. But she could see the tension in Conner’s stance—the way his fists stayed clenched even when there was nothing left to hit. He wasn’t fine. He was worried.

Meanwhile, Y/N’s team moved swiftly, the eerie glow of the rift growing stronger with every step. The air was thick with magic, the kind that sent chills up Y/N’s spine. He could feel it as they got closer—something ancient, powerful, and very, very angry. The energy was wild, and the closer they got, the more erratic it became. Sparks of light crackled in the air, and the ground beneath them shifted as if reality itself was struggling to hold together.

“We’re close,” Robin said, his eyes scanning the distorted environment with a mixture of curiosity and unease. “But, is it just me, or does something feel really off? It feels like…”

“Like we’re being watched,” Miss Martian finished, her voice steady but tense. She hovered a little higher, her green skin glowing faintly as she reached out with her mind, trying to get a sense of what was ahead. But she quickly pulled back. “There’s something... someone near the rift. I can’t tell who, but their presence is overwhelming.”

Y/N's heart raced as the sensation grew stronger. He felt the energy around him tightening, like a binding rope or python trying to squeeze him. “Whoever—or whatever—it is, they’re using the magical energy from the rift to fuel themselves. We need to be ready for anything.”

He could feel his own magic stirring, a rush of energy he didn't recognize but still somehow felt humming through his veins. It was a strange sensation, like a muscle flexing, preparing for a fight. His fingers tingled, and the air around him seemed to shimmer, almost imperceptibly.

"I can feel it," Y/N murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "The energy. It's... it's like nothing I've ever felt before."

Robin frowned, his eyes darting around the area. "That's not good, is it?"

"Nope, probably not," Y/N answered.

The closer they got to the rift, the more oppressive the energy became, like walking through thick, suffocating fog. The sky above them was torn open, swirling with dark, crackling energy, but it wasn’t just the rift that was the problem anymore. The presence Miss Martian had sensed—it was stronger now, looming over them like a shadow just out of reach.

As they approached the clearing near the rift, the ground shifted again, this time pulling away as if something massive was displacing the air itself. The sky above them darkened, the swirling mass of the rift glowing with an intense, unnatural light. And that’s when they saw him.

Y/N’s breath hitched as a figure began to emerge from the rift, hovering above the ground. At first, it was just an outline, a silhouette against the chaotic sky, but as the glow of the rift illuminated it, their worst fears were realized. Cloaked in dark, swirling magic, Superman floated in the air, his eyes glowing an unnatural, eerie green.

Something was wrong—terribly wrong. His normally calm and composed face was twisted in a snarl, his eyes glowing with that eerie, unnatural glow. Tendrils of dark energy spiraled around him, almost like chains, binding him to the rift.

Y/N’s breath hitched. “Oh no...”

Superman’s gaze locked onto them, but it wasn’t the familiar gaze of the Man of Steel. It was something else—something darker. And then, as if pulled by some unseen force, Superman’s attention shifted directly to Y/N.

Without warning, he shot toward them like a bullet, fists clenched, eyes blazing with magical energy. Y/N barely had time to react, throwing up a protective shield just as Superman’s fist collided with it, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. The force of the impact knocked Y/N back, his shield flickering as he struggled to hold it in place.

“Uh, guys. I think something's wrong with Superman,” Robin yelled, eyes wide with shock.

"Oh really, you think so?" Y/N shouted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I couldn't tell!"

Miss Martian, her eyes glowing white, tried to reach out to Superman, hoping to break through the haze of magic. But, the moment she touched his mind, she recoiled, her expression pained. "It's like his mind is screaming. I can't get through."

Y/N gritted his teeth, his hands shaking as he held up the shield.

“Y/N, can you—?”

“Working on it!” Y/N grunted, his magic straining against the overwhelming power of Superman’s attack. He could feel the dark energy coiling around Superman, like some kind of dark spirit or entity was latched onto him, controlling him. And worse—it looked like it was focused solely on the young magic user.

The rift above them pulsed violently, feeding the entity’s strength as it drove Superman forward again, his fists glowing with that same dark energy. Y/N braced himself, sweat trickling down his forehead as he prepared for another onslaught.

But, before Superman could strike, a blur of black and red shot past, tackling him mid-air with an angry shout.

Superboy.

The half-Kryptonian slammed into Superman, the force of his impact sending both Kryptonians crashing into a nearby building. The structure shook, but thankfully it held. Superman barely seemed fazed, his glowing eyes snapping toward Superboy as he regained his balance mid-air. The tendrils of dark energy flickered around him like an agitated beast, coiling tighter as if preparing for another assault.

Superboy landed in front of Y/N, fists clenched, his breathing heavy. His jaw tightened, his gaze locked on Superman, who was hovering ominously above them. "Stay behind me."

He didn’t even flinch as Superman’s eyes narrowed, a fresh wave of dark energy coiling around him. But Y/N was already bristling, his frustration bubbling over. “Are you insane?!” Y/N snapped, scrambling back to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger. “Do you know what you just did?”

Superboy didn’t tear his gaze away from Superman, his muscles coiled like springs ready to launch again. “Yeah, I saved your behind.”

“No, you didn’t!” Y/N’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp with anger and panic. “You’re supposed to be with Aqualad, helping the others! Not throwing yourself into a fight you cannot win. Superman’s juiced up with magic, Conner—he’s stronger than ever. You’ll get yourself killed!”

Superboy’s eyes flared, his own frustration boiling over. “And what, I’m supposed to just stand by and let you handle this alone? I’m not leaving you out here to face him by yourself!”

“I’m the one who can actually deal with this!” Y/N snapped, his fists clenched in frustration. “You’re only making it harder! I swear, you pull this stunt every time.”

“What, care about you?” Superboy shot back, his voice strained with a mix of anger and desperation.

“No, you put yourself in danger because you think you have to protect me,” Y/N hissed, his eyes flashing with fury. “Like I can’t handle it.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so reckless and actually stayed at the Cave like I told you, we wouldn’t even be in this mess!” Superboy countered, his jaw tightening as his temper flared.

“Who do you think you are?” Y/N scoffed, his frustration peaking. “And I’m not the one who just launched myself at a possessed Superman. You do realize that’s the textbook definition of reckless, right?”

Superboy’s growl deepened, his fists clenched so tight they trembled. He stepped closer to Y/N, frustration etched in every line of his face.

“If you two lovebirds are done, we’ve got bigger problems,” Robin cut in sharply, his voice tinged with urgency.

Y/N and Superboy froze mid-argument, their eyes snapping up toward Robin. Whatever anger had bubbled between them fizzled away as they realized what he was pointing to.

Superman hovered menacingly above them, his eyes glowing an even more vivid, unnatural green. Tendrils of dark energy coiled around his body like a living shadow, pulsing with an eerie power. His once-familiar face was a mask of pure malice, the heroic expression they knew replaced with something far more dangerous—predatory. His gaze locked onto them with a chilling intensity, his posture tense, ready to strike.

“Focus, guys,” Miss Martian urged, her voice tight as she floated beside them. “He’s about to attack.”

Superboy’s jaw tightened, and Y/N’s heart raced. Whatever had taken hold of Superman wasn’t letting go, and it had them squarely in its sights.

Back at the Cave, the quiet hum of the lights overhead was the only sound filling the air as Zatanna sat with CJ and Colin, keeping a watchful eye on the youngest Kent. Camden was currently asleep on one of the couches in her and Y/N’s study, wrapped in a blanket. It had taken some time to calm him down, especially since he had gotten more antsy after not being able to see Conner and Y/N before they left, but CJ had been a big help.

Speaking of CJ, Zatanna, ever perceptive, had noticed the strange and quiet behavior from the oldest Kent, something that Y/N had picked up on as well before they left for Boston. Y/N had even reached out through their magical connection, asking her to check on CJ and make sure everything was okay. There was something about the way he acted—like he knew something the rest of them didn’t.

“CJ, is there something on your mind?” Zatanna’s voice was soft, coaxing without pressuring.

CJ, sitting beside her, barely glanced up from his phone, his expression guarded and unreadable. “What do you mean?”

Zatanna offered him a kind smile. “You’ve been pretty quiet since the others left. Is everything alright?”

He hesitated, a flicker of conflict crossing his face before he sighed softly. “I’m fine. Just... worried about Dad and Papa.”

Zatanna watched CJ closely, noting the way his eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite place—hesitation, maybe. There was something more behind the boy’s silence than just the usual concern for his parents.

"Your fathers are strong, you know that, right?" Zatanna offered with a warm smile, hoping to ease whatever tension was weighing him down. "Whatever they're facing, they’ve got each other and the team to back them up."

CJ nodded, but it was clear her words weren’t doing much to lift the cloud hanging over him. His fingers drummed lightly against his phone, his eyes distant. "I know they’re strong. I'm not really worried about that," he muttered.

Zatanna leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowed. "Then what are you worried about, CJ?" Her tone softened further, sensing there was something deeper at play. "You’re holding something back, I can tell. If you’re worried about more than just the fight, you can talk to me. I’ll keep it between us."

CJ glanced at Colin, who had been quietly sitting cross-legged on the floor. The younger boy looked equally conflicted, like he knew exactly what CJ was thinking but wasn’t sure how to express it. After what felt like forever, CJ sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not the fight. Not really."

Zatanna waited patiently, giving him the space to continue.

"It’s just... the green lady," CJ said, his tone carrying more weight than she expected. "I don’t trust her. Neither of us do."

"The green lady?" Zatanna’s confusion was brief before realization dawned. "You mean M’Gann?"

Zatanna’s mind raced as she connected the dots. She had noticed it too—the way the boys interacted so easily with most of the team. They had a natural rhythm and rapport with nearly everyone, treating them like family. To them, everyone was either an Aunt or Uncle. They were always joking with Dick and Wally, learning fighting moves from Kaldur, and laughing at Artemis’ stories. Even their comfort around Superman and, surprisingly, Batman had caught Zatanna's attention. They had slipped into these relationships as if it was second nature.

But with M’Gann, it had been different. The boys were distant, almost cold, and while M’Gann wasn’t unfriendly, she too seemed hesitant. Zatanna had chalked it up to natural awkwardness, considering their sudden appearance, but now, hearing CJ refer to her as "the green lady" in such a cold tone, it was clear something deeper was going on.

"I’ve noticed you two keep your distance from her," Zatanna said carefully, studying both CJ and Colin’s faces. "And... she tries to get close, but there’s always some wall. Do you mind telling me why?"

CJ glanced at Colin again, and this time, it was Colin who spoke, his voice soft but steady. "She’s... different where we’re from. Really different."

Zatanna raised an eyebrow slightly. "Different how?"

CJ shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze dropping to his hands. "She... doesn’t like us much. Not really. She doesn’t like the idea of Dad and Papa together, and she’s—" He hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words without revealing too much.

"She tries to keep them apart," Colin finished quietly, his eyes trained on the floor. "She says things, does things... to make them fight sometimes. We’ve seen it."

Zatanna frowned, her heart aching at the weight these boys were carrying. She leaned in a little closer, her voice gentle but firm. "That sounds... complicated. But remember, this is a different timeline. People here aren’t the same as the ones you know. You’ve seen that, right?"

Colin nodded, but his eyes remained downcast. "We don’t mean to be mean, but she’s very different from the one we know with our parents. We’ve tried to find ways to tell Dad and Papa... but we don’t know how. Every time we try, something stops us. It feels like something is stopping us from interfering, and I don’t know how to make them see what we see." His voice cracked slightly, and he glanced at CJ for support.

CJ picked up where his brother left off, his voice steady but filled with frustration. "The M’Gann from our timeline, she’s... worse. She always tries to come between our parents, always messing things up for them. Sometimes she makes them fight each other. We’ve seen her do it so many times, and it always makes Papa and Dad upset. Sometimes at each other."

Zatanna’s eyes widened slightly, the pieces falling into place. "So, that’s why you two act so strange around her. You’ve been calling her 'the green lady' because you don’t trust her."

CJ nodded again, his expression darkening. "Every time I look at her, I see everything she did to hurt them in our time. And now, with us here, it feels like we’ve managed to do the one thing she’s been trying to do for as long as I can remember—keep them apart. What if we really messed things up? What if Papa never forgives Dad for everything that happened? I see how Dad looks at Papa, but... it doesn’t feel like Papa feels the same way. Especially when Dad’s around. It scares me. Like we’ve made things worse, just by being here."

Zatanna sighed softly, her heart aching for the boys. She could see how much they were carrying—fear, guilt, and the heavy burden of a future they weren’t supposed to interfere with. She knew they were holding back more than they were saying, but she also knew the dangers of knowing too much about the future. They were in a precarious spot, balancing on the edge of what they could share and what had to be kept hidden.

“CJ, Colin," she began gently, leaning forward to meet their eyes, "you’re not responsible for your parents’ lives. It’s easy to think that because you’ve seen so much, but love is complicated. There’s a lot of history between your Papa and Dad—some of which you haven’t seen yet, and some you might never need to see. What matters now is that they’re both strong, and they’re both fighting for what’s right. You being here... I don’t think you’ve ruined anything. If anything, I think you've actually opened their eyes.”

Before they could respond, the air in the room shifted—a crackle of magic filling the atmosphere, a familiar, tingling sensation that made Zatanna straighten immediately.

The atmosphere grew thick with energy, and a bright light bloomed in the corner of the room, just like when the boys first arrived—though this time, it was focused in one spot, far more controlled than the chaotic arrival from before. Zatanna’s senses heightened immediately as she recognized the magical aura, though there was something different about it. It was familiar, but stronger, more commanding, like CJ’s presence magnified, though this one carried with it a weight of experience.

As the light dimmed, Zatanna turned around, her eyes widening at the sight of two figures standing in the room—one taller, broader in the shoulders, still wearing a shirt that looked a size too small, while the other carried the same mischievous glint she knew all too well, tempered now by time and wisdom. Her breath caught in her throat as CJ and Colin’s faces lit up with pure joy.

“Zatanna, are you telling my kids stories again?” His voice was unmistakable, carrying that signature teasing, sarcastic tone.

"You are such a freaking idiot."

The words came out in stuttered breaths, each one sharp and ragged as Y/N lay pinned beneath the weight of Conner. His chest heaved with exhaustion, every breath a reminder of the strain his magic had taken on him during the battle. Conner didn’t move, his broad form pressing down heavily against Y/N, arms still wrapped protectively around his middle as though the fight wasn’t over yet. His grip was firm, almost too tight, as if letting go would mean surrendering Y/N to the chaos that had just unfolded.

They were both breathing hard, lungs burning as they tried to recover. The wreckage of the building around them was a brutal reminder of what they had just been through. The entity that had possessed Superman had been relentless, breaking free from the rift, driven by an insatiable hunger for power—magic, specifically. It had been searching for the source, seeking something ancient, something it believed would restore it to full strength. It had sensed CJ’s magic first, the magic that had torn the rift open. But when it found Y/N’s magical presence, something familiar, it zeroed in on him with a terrifying, singular focus.

Y/N could still hear the chilling words the entity had spoken through Superman’s lips, his voice distorted and twisted with malevolence:

"Ah, now it makes sense..." The entity’s voice slithered out of Superman’s mouth, twisted and unnatural, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine. "The power I felt... that magic I sensed, so potent, so ancient... it called to me, even from within my prison. A power like that could only belong to someone with blood like yours." The entity's voice dropped, dripping with venomous amusement, each word laced with a cruel edge. "Yours is different from what I felt before... refined, controlled. But the first pulse I sensed was raw, untamed—much like you once were. A child, then. A child with blood like yours."

Superman’s—no, the entity’s—eyes gleamed, glowing with an eerie green light, filled with a malice that made Y/N’s stomach churn. "Your child, I assume. Familiar, yes... a direct descendant. How fitting." The thing let out a low, sinister chuckle that felt like nails on glass. "I will enjoy watching your line fall. I’ve waited so long... and today, both you and your whelp will suffer for what was taken from me. What your bloodline stole so long ago will finally be mine again."

The words hung in the air like a curse, dark and twisted, and Y/N felt his heart lurch in his chest. His hands shook, both with fear, but also a surge of protectiveness so strong it nearly overwhelmed him. He’d known CJ and Colin for less than 24 hours, but the very idea of anything harming them lit a fire inside him that burned brighter than any magic he’d ever wielded.

His jaw clenched, his breath quickening as he stared down this ancient evil wearing Superman’s face. The entity’s words echoed in his mind, its chilling threat against CJ ringing louder than the chaos of the battle around him. His magic flared to life, sparking at his fingertips. Not his kids. Not today.

Y/N wasn’t ready to be a parent—hell, he wasn’t sure he ever would be—but that didn’t matter right now. This thing, this twisted, malevolent force had come here looking to destroy his child. And no matter how outmatched he was, no matter how much stronger this entity might be, Y/N wasn’t going to let that happen. He’d take on anything—demons, gods, even Superman himself—if it meant protecting CJ.

"You’re not touching him," Y/N growled, his voice low and dangerous. Magic surged around him, crackling like wildfire. "I don’t care what you think you’re owed. You’re not getting past me."

Even as the odds stacked against him, Y/N felt something unshakable in his core. A new kind of strength, one that didn’t come from spells or incantations. It came from the protectiveness he felt for his son—the child who had come from some future he barely understood but who he was already willing to lay everything on the line for.

The entity grinned, the malice in its expression deepening. "Brave words for a dead man. You will watch your child fall before I take you next."

Y/N didn’t respond, his entire focus shifting to the battle ahead. His fear was there, gnawing at him, but so was something more powerful. For CJ, Colin, and Camden—for his sons—Y/N would fight until his last breath.

The battle had been nothing short of a nightmare, each moment a desperate attempt to stop the possessed Superman while keeping the team safe. Y/N had thrown every ounce of magic he had into protecting them—shields, energy blasts, containment spells—but none of it had been enough. The entity had twisted Superman’s powers, amplifying them with its own dark energy. Magic that would have at least slowed Superman down had no effect. And if they hadn’t been able to handle Superman without magic, how could they hope to stop him with it?

Still, it hadn’t stopped Conner. He fought like a man possessed himself, throwing everything he had between Y/N and the corrupted Kryptonian. Blow after blow, Conner absorbed the hits, bloodied but undeterred, keeping Superman distracted just long enough for Y/N to work out a plan. The rest of the team, alongside a few Justice League members Aqualad and the others had managed to find, had joined the fray. They'd been overpowered early on, knocked out when the entity first took control. The dark magic amplifying Superman’s abilities had caught them completely off guard.

But he never wavered.

Y/N quickly realized that fighting head-on would be a losing game. The entity's power, amplified by Superman’s, was far too overwhelming. But the rift—the thing that had brought it here in the first place—was still open, pulsating with chaotic energy, tearing the fabric of reality apart. That was when Y/N knew what had to be done. If he could close the rift, the entity would lose its anchor to this dimension. And with any luck, that would drive it out of Superman’s body.

It was a gamble, and a long shot at best.

Throwing himself into the task, Y/N channeled every ounce of magic he had left, weaving a spell to close the rift. The entity sensed it almost immediately. It directed Superman’s relentless attacks toward Y/N, trying to stop him. But Conner—bruised, battered, yet still standing—fought tooth and nail to keep Superman at bay, taking hit after punishing hit to buy Y/N just enough time.

Y/N could still feel the power surging through him, every part of his body alight with the energy required to seal the tear in reality. But it drained him. The spell needed everything he had, and in those final moments, just as he forced the rift to close with a deafening crack, he felt his consciousness slipping away. The world blurred, the sounds of battle fading as he fell from the sky, too exhausted to keep himself afloat.

That was when Conner leaped. He caught Y/N mid-air, his powerful arms wrapping around him as they fell into the wreckage of the collapsing building below, shielding him from the worst of the impact.

The rift sealed, and with it, the entity’s hold on Superman shattered. It was pulled back into the prison from which it had escaped, leaving Superman himself unconscious but finally free from its control.

And now, here they were—lying in the rubble, both too exhausted to move, trying to catch their breath. Y/N groaned again, the full weight of Conner pressing down on him, his body too heavy and too warm against Y/N’s aching frame.

"You do realize you're crushing me, right?" Y/N rasped out, each word strained and breathless, still pinned under Conner’s weight. His chest was heaving, trying to catch up with the breath that had been knocked out of him. Conner, on the other hand, didn’t budge. His arms remained locked around Y/N, his breath still hot against Y/N’s neck, and while the battle was over, it felt like the two of them were still fighting... something.

"Don't care," Conner murmured, his voice rough and strained. "You're not going anywhere."

Y/N groaned, the exhaustion creeping into his bones, mixing with the heat of Conner’s body pressing against him. "Dude, in case you didn't notice, the fight's over and you're kind of heavy. Please, get off me," he managed to huff between labored breaths.

Conner made no move to shift. "You’re fine," he said, though the protective edge in his voice didn’t waver. His arms still refused to let go, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of Y/N slipping away, even for a second.

"Seriously, man, I’m suffocating here." Y/N squirmed a little, not so much because he couldn’t breathe, but because the warmth and proximity were... uncomfortable. Not physically, but in a way he didn’t want to think too hard about. "Get off already."

"No." Conner’s voice was unyielding, a stubborn refusal that sent an involuntary shiver down Y/N’s spine.

"Are you serious right now?" Y/N craned his neck to glance at him. "This is ridiculous."

"I’m serious," Conner replied, his voice low. "I’m not moving until I’m sure you’re okay."

Y/N narrowed his eyes, irritation flaring up despite the exhaustion. "I’m fine. I’m alive, aren’t I? Now get off me before I hex you into next week."

Conner snorted softly, but his grip still didn’t loosen. "Like I’d let you."

Y/N bristled at the arrogance in his tone, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was hammering a little too fast. "What’s your deal, huh? Why are you always trying to play hero?"

"I’m not—" Conner’s voice was rough, and he shifted just enough to catch Y/N’s eyes. "I’m not trying to be a hero. I’m just trying to keep you safe."

Y/N’s temper flared at that. He shoved at Conner’s chest, trying to push him off, but of course, it was like shoving a brick wall. "I don’t need you to keep me safe, Conner. I’m not some fragile little flower. I’ve been dealing with stuff like this long before you ever decided to—"

"That’s not fair," Conner cut him off, his voice hardening. "You’re the one who’s always putting yourself in danger. What am I supposed to do, just sit around and wait for you to get hurt?"

"I can take care of myself," Y/N snapped, eyes flashing. "I don’t need you or anyone else to protect me. I’m not a damsel in distress."

"That’s not what I’m saying—"

"Then what are you saying?" Y/N challenged, his voice rising.

Conner’s jaw clenched, his breath coming in heavy, frustrated bursts. His eyes locked with Y/N’s, something dark and stormy flickering in their depths, and for a split second, it looked like he was about to argue back—like they were going to keep bickering until one of them snapped.

But then something shifted in Conner’s gaze, something that made Y/N’s breath catch in his throat.

Before Y/N could get another word in, Conner’s hand shot up, his fingers gripping Y/N’s jaw with firm but careful pressure. He tilted Y/N’s face up, his grip unyielding, and Y/N’s heart raced, heat flaring in his chest as he realized what was about to happen.

"Conner, I swear—"

The rest of Y/N’s protest died in his throat as Conner’s lips crashed down onto his, cutting off any words that might have followed. The kiss was sudden, fierce, filled with a rawness that felt like all the frustration and tension that had been building between them was finally boiling over. Conner’s mouth moved against Y/N’s with a desperation that sent a jolt of fire through him, the heat between them blazing in an instant.

Y/N’s first instinct was to shove him away—to push back against the overwhelming intensity of it all—but his body betrayed him. His hands, which had been pushing against Conner’s chest moments ago, faltered, fingers curling against the fabric of Conner’s shirt as he fought between wanting to resist and wanting to melt into the kiss.

Conner’s other hand slid down, wrapping around Y/N’s waist, pulling him even closer—if that was even possible—until there was no space between them. Y/N felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of Conner’s body and the sheer force of the kiss, and yet... he didn’t hate it. In fact, the heat of it, the possessiveness, the way Conner’s lips moved against his like he couldn’t bear to let go—it was enough to make Y/N’s mind spin.

His breath hitched, a small sound of protest caught somewhere in the back of his throat, but it was swallowed by the heat of Conner’s mouth. Y/N’s heart pounded so loudly in his ears that it drowned out everything else—the rubble, the aftermath, the fact that they had almost died. None of it mattered. Not in this moment. Not with Conner’s lips moving so fiercely against his, like kissing Y/N was the only thing tethering him to the ground.

Y/N should have been angry. He should have shoved Conner away, demanded an explanation, demanded they talk it out like they always did. But as Conner’s fingers tightened their grip on his jaw, forcing Y/N’s lips to part just slightly, and as his tongue brushed against his bottom lip with an insistent hunger, Y/N’s thoughts scattered.

Every nerve in Y/N’s body was alight, buzzing with the sensation of Conner’s touch. He felt like he was being burned alive from the inside out, his skin tingling, his heart racing so fast he thought it might explode. He wanted to scream, wanted to shout at Conner for being such an idiot—for making everything so complicated—but at the same time, he wanted to drown in the heat of the kiss, in the way Conner’s hands felt like they were made to hold him.

The push and pull inside Y/N warred with itself, but the kiss—it was relentless, pulling him under, making his mind go blank. It was overwhelming, suffocating, but in the best possible way. Every time he tried to pull back, Conner’s hand would tighten just a bit, his lips pressing harder, like he wasn’t ready to let Y/N go.

And maybe Y/N wasn’t ready to let go, either.

When they finally pulled apart, gasping for air, Y/N’s head was spinning, his lips tingling from the bruising intensity of the kiss. Conner’s forehead pressed against his, their breaths mingling in the small space between them, both of them panting like they had just been through another fight.

"That’s what I’m saying," Conner murmured, his voice rough, his breath hot against Y/N’s lips.

Y/N blinked, his mind still trying to catch up to what had just happened. His heart hammered against his ribcage, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he stared up at Conner, wide-eyed and completely disoriented. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words got stuck in his throat.

All he could do was stare at Conner, his thoughts a chaotic mess of confusion, anger, and something else—something warm and dangerous, something he didn’t want to admit he felt. His lips still tingled from the kiss, his skin still burning from where Conner’s hands had touched him, and Y/N had no idea what to say.

"I couldn’t just... stand by," Conner said, his voice a rough whisper, his forehead still pressed against Y/N’s. "I couldn’t lose you."

Y/N swallowed hard, his pulse racing as he stared into Conner’s eyes, the weight of everything between them pressing down like a storm about to break.

"You can be so damn reckless," Conner continued, his voice low and strained. "I can't stand it."

Conner’s chest heaved with every breath, his forehead still pressed against Y/N’s. His heart was pounding, louder than the chaos around them, louder than his own thoughts. There was so much he wanted to say, and for once in his life, Conner Kent wasn’t sure where to start. His hands, still gripping Y/N’s waist and jaw, felt like they were the only things tethering him to reality.

"You can be so damn reckless," Conner finally muttered, his voice low and strained. "I can’t stand it."

Y/N was about to snap back—about to say something sharp or sarcastic, probably both in response—but Conner wasn’t done.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" Conner’s voice cracked, a rare vulnerability leaking into his tone. His fingers tightened their grip on Y/N’s waist, his breath shallow as he tried to piece his thoughts together. "From the moment you joined the team, I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t understand why I was so... drawn to you. It scared me and I just tried to avoid and ignore it and you. But then when you started avoiding me, ignoring me... and I didn’t know how to deal with."

Y/N’s lips parted to respond, but Conner shook his head, not letting him interrupt. "It irritated the hell out of me. Every time we argued, every time you shut me out, it just made me... angrier. But not in the way I was used to. I wasn’t just mad—I was hurt. And I didn’t know how to handle it, so I lashed out. And then I’d regret it. Every damn time."

Conner’s voice softened, his forehead pressing even more firmly against Y/N’s. "You always pushed back, fought me at every turn, and instead of backing off, I wanted to fight harder. Because... I hated how much I cared. It didn’t make sense to me, not at first. I didn’t want to care."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, his pulse quickening as Conner’s words sank in. But still, he remained silent, letting Conner get it all out.

"And then these past 24 hours... I don't know, Y/N." Conner’s voice cracked again, this time from the sheer weight of everything. "Since CJ, Colin, and Camden showed up... I didn't know what to make of that and I just tried to ignore my thoughts and feelings harder. Seeing them, knowing what could be... it scared me. But it also made me realize how much I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you. I don’t care about the past or the arguments or the crap we’ve been through. All I care about is the fact that... I can’t imagine my life without you in it."

Y/N’s breath hitched at those words, and Conner’s gaze softened, his thumb gently brushing against Y/N’s jaw. "I know I hurt you. I know I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to deal with it—hell, I still don’t, but I can’t keep pretending like you don’t mean more to me than just... a teammate or a friend. I tried to ignore it for so long, but now, after everything, I can’t."

The tension in the air shifted, the weight of Conner’s words pressing down between them. Y/N’s chest felt tight, his mind spinning as Conner continued, his voice softer now.

"At some point, it started to feel like you didn't—like you don’t want me around, and it ate away at me. I get it, because I’ve been there too. But every argument, every stupid fight we had... it wasn’t because I hated you, Y/N. It was because I was terrified of how much I... cared."

Conner’s forehead finally lifted from Y/N’s, and their eyes met, the intensity between them crackling like static. "I’m sorry for all of it—for making things harder on you. But I need you to know... I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore."

Y/N’s heart was hammering in his chest, his head spinning from everything Conner had just laid out in front of him. He wanted to say something—anything—but for once, Y/N was at a loss for words. He stared up at the Kryptonian, wide-eyed and dazed, trying to make sense of the flood of emotions coursing through him.

But he wasn’t done yet.

"You’re important to me," Conner whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "More than I’ve ever let on. More than I’ve ever let myself admit. And if you need space, if you need time, I’ll give you that. But I can’t pretend anymore, Y/N. I can’t act like I don’t want you in my life. Because I do. I always have."

Y/N swallowed hard, his pulse still racing as Conner’s words finally sank in. Everything—the tension, the arguments, the hurt—it all clicked into place. This wasn’t just some pent-up frustration or tension from the battles they’d faced. This was something deeper. Something neither of them had fully understood until now.

Conner’s hands tightened their grip on Y/N’s waist, his thumb brushing softly against his jawline. "You’re not alone in this," he said quietly. "I’ve felt everything you’ve felt. I just didn’t know how to say it. Until now."

Y/N’s heart was pounding so loudly he was sure Conner could hear it. The rawness of Conner’s confession, the vulnerability in his voice... it was overwhelming, but also something Y/N hadn’t realized he needed to hear. Now, at least, he couldn't use the excuse that he didn't understand Conner anymore.

He'd probably still use it though if it helped him win an argument but that's just a toxic habit that will have to be unpacked later at some point.

Y/N blinked up at Conner, his heart still thundering in his chest, his mind racing to catch up with the sheer weight of everything Conner had just laid on the table. He wasn’t used to this—being the one someone poured their heart out to. And hearing all of it, laid bare like that, especially from someone as guarded as Conner, it was... overwhelming. Too much, almost.

And as much as Y/N wanted to take a moment, to gather his thoughts and sort through what he was feeling, the weight of the situation was all too literal.

"Wow," Y/N finally managed, his voice breathless, though not just from the emotional onslaught. "That was... deep. Really deep. And you know, I’d appreciate it more if I wasn’t currently suffocating under the weight of your muscled chest."

Conner blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes as he processed Y/N’s words. The tension broke for just a second, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh, right." He shifted, his body easing off Y/N’s a little, though he still didn’t let go entirely. His arms remained locked around Y/N’s waist, as if he wasn’t ready to fully separate just yet.

Y/N groaned as the pressure eased, the slight relief allowing him to take a proper breath. "Thanks. You’re built like a tank, you know that?"

Conner’s smile was small, but there was a warmth in it that made Y/N’s chest tighten. "I’ve heard that before."

Y/N felt the corner of his own lips twitch, the sarcastic comment easing some of the tension between them, but only for a moment. He glanced away, his gaze flickering to the wreckage around them, trying to find something—anything—to focus on other than the sheer vulnerability hanging in the air between them.

But Conner was relentless. His grip on Y/N’s waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling Y/N’s attention back to him, grounding him in the moment. "Y/N..." Conner’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I’m serious. I meant what I said."

Y/N swallowed hard, his chest tightening again as he forced himself to meet Conner’s gaze. "I know," he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. "I... I get it. And... I hear you. It’s just..." He trailed off, his mind scrambling for something to say that didn’t feel too raw, too exposed. Vulnerability wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

He let out a shaky breath, trying to force some humor into his voice, though it didn’t come out as smoothly as he hoped. "Look, I’m not exactly great with... feelings, okay? You know that. You’ve seen that. And honestly, this whole thing is... a lot. It’s a lot to take in."

Conner didn’t say anything, just watched him with those intense blue eyes that made Y/N feel like he was being seen in a way he wasn’t used to.

Y/N’s fingers fidgeted slightly against Conner’s shirt, his mind still racing as he tried to find a way to explain how he felt without completely losing his nerve. "I’m not saying I don’t feel the same way," he continued, his voice softer now, more serious. "I’m just... I don’t know, Conner. I don’t know how to deal with this. With us. I didn’t exactly expect to have you drop... all of that on me right after we nearly died, you know?"

Conner’s lips quirked into a small, almost sheepish smile. "Timing’s never been my strong suit."

"Yeah, no kidding." Y/N let out a breathy chuckle, but it was laced with something deeper—an edge of vulnerability that he couldn’t quite mask with his usual sarcasm.

The smile faded from Conner’s face, replaced by that same look of quiet intensity, and Y/N felt his stomach flip. "You don’t have to have it all figured out," Conner said softly, his voice steady. "I don’t, either. But... I just needed you to know. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t... care."

Y/N’s throat tightened again, and he struggled to find the right words. "You’ve... definitely made that clear," he muttered, his voice catching just slightly. His heart was pounding again, that uncomfortable mix of emotions—fear, warmth, something close to hope—tugging at him.

There was a long, heavy pause between them, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. Y/N’s hands, still resting against Conner’s chest, flexed slightly, feeling the steady thrum of the Kryptonian’s heartbeat under his palm. It was steady. Strong. A quiet reminder of the man who had just thrown himself straight into danger, quite recklessly if it may be noted, just to keep Y/N safe.

"I’m scared," Y/N admitted before he could stop himself, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t easy to say, but it was the truth. And if Conner could lay everything bare like that, then maybe Y/N owed him the same. "I’m scared of... this. Of what this is and means. Scared that at some point, you'll change your mind and go back to ignoring me and pretending like I don't exist. I'm scared of getting hurt, but, I also am really scared of... losing you as well. Don't let that go to your already ginormous head."

"I’m scared," Y/N admitted before he could stop himself, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t easy to say, but it was the truth. And if Conner could lay everything bare like that, then maybe Y/N owed him the same. "I’m scared of... this. Of what it means. Scared that at some point, you’ll change your mind, go back to ignoring me, and pretend I don’t exist. I’m scared of getting hurt. But..." He hesitated, his voice faltering for a moment. "I’m also really scared of losing you. And don’t let that go to your already ginormous head."

Conner’s grip tightened around him, his eyes softening with an understanding that made Y/N’s heart stutter in his chest. He leaned in, their foreheads brushing lightly as Conner spoke, his voice low and rough, thick with emotion. "You’re not gonna lose me. Not ever." The conviction in his words made Y/N’s chest tighten even more.

"I’m scared too," Conner continued, his voice gentler now, like a confession he hadn’t meant to voice aloud. "But we can figure this out. Together. We don’t have to rush into anything. Just... give me a chance. Please."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, his throat tight as his fingers curled into the fabric of Conner’s shirt, gripping just a little harder. Whatever was happening between them, it wasn’t simple—far from it. But hearing Conner lay it all out there, hearing him say the things Y/N hadn’t even realized he needed to hear... it made the fear a little less overwhelming.

For a long moment, Y/N didn’t respond. He just stared at Conner, the weight of everything settling in his chest, heavy but somehow comforting. "Alright," Y/N finally whispered, the tension in his voice easing, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "But seriously, don’t let that big head of yours get any bigger."

Conner chuckled softly, the sound sending a warmth through Y/N that he wasn’t quite ready to deal with. But for now, it was enough.

As the group stepped through the Zeta tube, the familiar whirring and beeping of the system was the only sound filling the otherwise tense silence. The battle had left everyone exhausted, and the weight of what they’d just faced hung heavily over the team. Wally, always one to lighten the mood, was the first to speak up.

“Okay, but can we just take a moment to appreciate how insane it was to see Y/N go full-on wizard against Superman?” Wally said, his eyes wide with lingering awe. “Like, I knew magic was cool, but that was next-level.”

Kaldur nodded, though his expression remained serious. “It was a battle none of us could have prepared for. The entity’s power... it amplified Superman in ways we couldn’t have predicted.”

“Yeah, but Y/N went all Gandalf on him,” Wally continued, gesturing wildly. “I thought he was going to pull out a staff and scream ‘You shall not pass!’ any second.”

Conner, walking silently behind the group, shot Wally a sidelong glance. “It wasn’t funny, Wally. That thing nearly killed him.”

Wally raised his hands defensively. “I know, I know! I’m just saying, it was impressive. You have to admit it.”

“Yeah,” Artemis chimed in, her voice quieter but no less impressed. “He held his own. I don’t think any of us expected him to hold off a superpowered Superman for that long.”

Before anyone could respond, the Zeta tube beeped again, signaling their arrival back at the Cave. As they stepped forward, though, what they saw waiting for them froze everyone in their tracks.

Standing there casually next to the console as if this was completely normal were two very familiar figures—familiar, yet slightly more older, their features more mature, their presence commanding. The older versions of Y/N and Conner were standing side by side, along with CJ, Colin, Camden (perched on his dad's shoulders of course), Zatanna, and Batman, all waiting for them with expressions ranging from amused to unreadable.

The team stood frozen, eyes wide as they took in the sight of their future counterparts. Wally’s mouth dropped open, and his head darted between the two older men and their younger selves. His brain scrambled to process what he was seeing, but Future Y/N’s casual greeting broke the silence.

"Hi, kids, welcome back. Did you have fun?" Future Y/N asked, a smirk playing on his lips, as if this whole situation was perfectly normal.

Wally blinked, raising a hand and pointing between the two Conners and Y/Ns. "Uh... you all see the duplicate Y/N and Conners too, right?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief.Artemis rolled her eyes, though she was just as stunned as the rest. "Yes, Wally, we all see them. They're not clones."

Wally, ever the wise-cracker, couldn’t help himself. "Well, technically, Conner still is," he quipped, flashing a grin. Both Conners, in perfect sync, rolled their eyes at the comment, their shared exasperation almost comical. Before Wally could revel in his joke, Artemis delivered a swift smack to the back of his head.

"Ow!" Wally yelped, rubbing the spot. "What? It was accurate!"

Future Y/N chuckled at the playful banter, casually crossing his arms over his chest. "Ah, some things never change," he remarked, his tone light and teasing. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned his gaze to his past self, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So... how was that first kiss, huh?"

Present Y/N froze, his face instantly flushing a deep red as he stammered, completely caught off guard. "W-Wait, what—who said anything about a kiss?!" His voice cracked slightly, and he cast a panicked glance at Conner, who wasn’t faring much better. Conner’s cheeks were quickly turning a shade of pink that rivaled Y/N’s, his eyes darting anywhere but at the group, avoiding everyone's curious stares.

The room fell into a stunned silence as the rest of the team blinked in disbelief, their gazes bouncing between the two. Artemis raised an eyebrow, Kaldur seemed momentarily at a loss for words, and even Batman shifted ever so slightly, though his expression remained as stoic as ever.

CJ and Colin, on the other hand, exchanged grins—CJ’s particularly smug, mirroring the exact cheeky smirk their father wore. The boys’ amusement was palpable, clearly enjoying the show unfolding before them. Little cheeky bastards indeed.

This story concludes on Archive of Our Own.

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[qqueenofhades]

i registered to vote for the first time ( i feel old) now that im an adult but my state has closed primary elections which i was wondering if you have an opinion about. my initial thought was that its bad because i had to register democrat (rather than my states green party which represents my beliefs more) just so i could vote between democrat candidates, which feels like being pressured into supporting the weird pseudo two party system we have. but then i looked it up and apparently a reason for this is so that people from opposing parties wont purposefully mess up the votes just so that their preferred candidates have an easier time winning, and i think that makes sense too. but is that actually the reason theyve closed it or is it just to force us dem/republican?? cause it feels strange

Okay, look. I respect the fact that you're a young person, and I appreciate that you have not only registered to vote, but plan to vote in the primaries, so I don't want to lecture you too much. That said: I am taking you out for coffee, I am sitting you down, I am looking into your eyes, and I am urgently telling you the following:

The Green Party is a scam. It is a scam. It has existed for decades in American politics as an empty shell corporation weaponizing the good intentions of young people like yourself, because all it theoretically stands for "it's good to save the planet maybe." Which is not something that any non-insane person seriously disagrees with, but there is no world in which that cause is actually furthered by registering/voting Green (you mentioned that you did vote for Democrats, which -- good, but listen to me here, youngun, okay?) It ran Jill Stein in 2016 to siphon more votes from HRC, and this election it plans to run Cornel West, a pro-Russian tankie who positively equated Bernie and Trump, as another spoiler candidate. It does not stand for "protecting the planet" or America in any real way. It has never elected a single senator or congressman, let alone a president. It stands for empty performance/grievance political theater by those people who feel too morally superior to vote for/affiliate with Democrats, often because the internet has told them that it's not Cool or Hip or Progressive enough.

If your main priority is climate/the environment, you're doing the right thing by registering as a Democrat and voting for Democrats. (Also: the adjectival form is Democratic. It is the Democratic party and Democratic candidates, otherwise you sound like the Fox News host who wrote a book literally entitled "The Democrat Party Hates America.") They are the only major party who has in fact passed major climate legislation and have made environmental justice a central tenet of their platform. As opposed to the Republicans, whose Project 2025, along with the rest of its nightmare fascist prescriptions, openly pledges to completely wreck existing climate protections and forbid any new ones, just because we weren't all dying fast enough under their death-cult rule already. That's the main logical fallacy I don't get among both the Online Leftists and the American electorate in general: "the Democrats aren't doing quite enough as I'd like, so I'll enable the active wrecking ball insane lunatics to get in power and ruin even the progress we HAVE managed to make!" Like. How does that even make sense?

On a federal level, the Greens have contributed nothing whatsoever of tangible value to American or international climate policy/legislation, environmental justice, or anything else, because as noted, they don't have any elected candidates and mostly focus on drawing voters away from Democrats. There might be plenty of good candidates on the local or city level, which -- great! Vote away for Greens if they're available, or the only other option is a Republican! But on the federal/primary level, please understand: once again, they are a scam. There is no point in affiliating yourself with them. You're welcome to register Green and vote Democratic, if that makes you feel better or if you prefer having another label next to your name, but once again, I'm telling you in my position as a salty Tumblr elder that they have done nothing but harm to the causes they claim to care about, because "environment" is such a nebulous priority and has demonstrably been hijacked to stop the American government entity, i.e. the Democrats, that is actually working to improve on it.

As for your question: nobody is "forcing" or "pressuring" you to vote in primaries. By your own admission, you made a conscious choice to register as a Democrat in order to vote for Democratic candidates. If you were just a regular registered voter of whatever party affiliation, you would vote in the general election for whatever candidate the primary process produced. But if you are sufficiently vested and committed to that process that you would like to have a say in who is running under that party label, it is not unreasonable that you would register as a member of that party. Nobody has twisted your arm behind your back and made you do so; you are taking a considerable level of initiative on your own. Likewise, open primaries can be both a good and bad thing. This falls under the "the political system we have is flawed, but we can't magically pretend it doesn't exist and act according to our own fantasyland versions of reality" thing that I keep saying over and over. So yes, if you want a role in shaping the Democratic candidates who emerge from a Democratic primary process, you will usually register as a Democrat, and nobody has forced you to do that. It's that simple.

Likewise as a general programming note: I'm trying to cut back on politics a bit right now, because I don't have the spoons/bandwidth/mental health to deal with it. I apologize. So if you've sent me a politics-related ask recently and haven't received a response, I'm not deliberately or maliciously ignoring you; I just am not able to handle it as much as usual and will have to put it on pause. However, I feel as if this is important enough to be worth saying, so, yeah.

[astonmartinii]

kiss it better | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x first responder!reader when oscar crashes into the barrier at monza, he thinks he sees his guardian angel, in reality he's just got a concussion and that's a first responder, but it's the thought that counts.

f1

liked by arthurleclerc, liamlawson and 1,206,700 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

f1: woah. huge shunt for oscar piastri in turn three. the australian was pulled out of the car by first responders and is getting treatment. red flag for now.

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user1: omg like my breath was completely gone, i hope oscar is okay

user2: holy shit that's the worst crash i've ever seen i'm so glad they aren't replaying it

user3: i tuned in late and i knew as soon as they didn't replay it it had to be bad

user4: thank the lord for the first responders, they were so fast i hope oscar is good

user5: i'm gonna need netflix to take the backseat on this one i can't take the dramatic editing this is already stressful enough

user6: the grosjean crash was bad enough, i can't deal with it with oscar

user7: are there any updates yet?

user8: not yet.

user9: i'm sat in the grandstand right where this was and it was literally so scary, the first responders literally had to jump on the car

user10: so so lucky that they were stationed so close to where he crashed

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,309,761 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: first of all i'd like to thank everyone for their support and well wishes, i really appreciate it. it's actually thanks to y/n and the rest of the first responders that i'm back on my feet as fast as i am. big thank you to y/n for sacrificing her ability to shower comfortably to help me out of the car and avoid the flames, i am eternally grateful and mama piastri would like you over for dinner to thank you.

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user9: i'm so so happy he's okay, that crash was so scary

landonorris: glad to hear you're okay mate !

oscarpiastri: you can't get rid of me that easily norris

landonorris: woah, no joking about dying when you've only been discharged for 24 hours

oscarpiastri: sorry, skipped over that one in my contract

danielricciardo: make sure you always read that mclaren contract carefully

user11: thank you y/n for your service

user12: for real she put her leg on the line for oscar she needs a raise

yourusername: it was my pleasure to do my job and help you out oscar. and i'll always take up an offer for a mum's dinner

oscarpiastri: she'll be very happy to hear that

yourusername: text me the details and i'll be there

user13: it's so crazy to me how f1 drivers just get up and walk out of crashes like that

user14: no for real how is the medic more injured than him 😭

logansargent: you are so lucky there were no cameras when you were on painkillers cause you were talking some shit

oscarpiastri: please don't remind me

logansargent: just because there weren't cameras in the room doesn't mean i didn't record you, i look forward to my birthday present this year

oscarpiastri: you wouldn't

logansargent: you wanna bet?

user15: so like how bad do we think what oscar said was?

user16: and how much do we need to pay logan to release it?

mclaren

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 609,778 others

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri & yourusername

mclaren: after her heroics in the first half of the season, y/n finally took oscar up and is a guest of mclaren this weekend. as a medic, y/n is one of the most important aspects of a race weekend, and it's an honour to host her!

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user17: did oscar write this caption? that man was BLUSHING in the fan questions video

user18: awwww mama piastri is also there this weekend and in a load of the pictures in the paddock they stuck together

oscarpiastri: so happy to see you again y/n !!

yourusername: my pleasure, oscar. racing is a lot more fun from the garage

oscarpiastri: i'll try my best not to crash this time, i know my favourite medic isn't on duty

yourusername: oh wow what a title, i'll wear it with pride

user19: they're such dorks i love them so much

landonorris: can someone get me some popcorn, i'm enjoying watching oscar squirm and blush all weekend

oscarpiastri: i am NOT !!

landonorris: don't worry i'm sure y/n finds it cute

oscarpiastri: can you please STOP !!

yourusername: not to prove lando right but it is very cute

user20: lando is taking his big brother role a bit too far

alexalbon: you were right @logansargent this is fun to watch

logansargent: oh just you wait until you find out the stuff he was saying in hospital

oscarpiastri: please stop telling people

alexalbon: from what i heard she was right there @yourusername what did he say logan is being a good friend (for now)

yourusername: considering i literally fried my leg getting him out i don't remember most of that day

alexalbon: UGH you people are no help

yourusername: ???

oscarpiastri: ???

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,560 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: no pulling this one out of a burning wreck this weekend 👍

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user21: omg oscar's smile ??? i am faint

landonorris: do i mean nothing to you?

yourusername: i am literally oscar's guest let me rep him in peace

landonorris: booooooo if you're going to wear his number might as well ask him out while you're at it

yourusername: mind your business, i know what i'm doing

user22: Y/N?????????

oscarpiastri: i see you know my angles already, can you come every weekend?

yourusername: i'd love to but i have a lil thing called a job :(

oscarpiastri: boring, can't you be my full time personal photographer?

landonorris: and his girlfriend?

oscarpiastri: do you mind?

landonorris: what? i'm just trying to help

oscarpiastri: you are MEDDLING

yourusername: you guys done?

oscarpiastri: yes

landonorris: NO

user23: lando is a no 1 y/n x oscar shipper he's so real

user24: y/n is so much stronger than me i'd hand in my notice right this second

yourusername: believe me i would if i could

landonorris: to both options?

oscarpiastri: LANDO STOP

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 19,056 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: happy to be your guardian angel baby x

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user29: new f1 parents just entered the chat

landonorris: i'm taking responsibility for this happening, you’re welcome

yourusername: stop right there buddy, this was all ME

oscarpiastri: nuh uh it was ME

yourusername: i asked YOU out?

oscarpiastri: technically yes, but i asked you to dinner first

yourusername: actually, if i remember correctly that was your mum

oscarpiastri: FINE you asked me out and i'm very glad you did and you ARE my guardian angel and you ARE way out of my league

landonorris: you said it i didn't

oscarpiastri: LANDO LET ME FLIRT IN PEACE YOU NUISANCE

landonorris: woah, you've changed bro

yourusername: are we finished boys?

landonorris: yes, and for real i am very happy for you guys

user30: lando saying he made this happen is the most lando thing ever

logansargent: can you tell him to stop ignoring me now?

yourusername: soz under strict rules not to fraternize with a traitor

logansargent: I'M SORRY BUT I CAN'T HANDLE SPICE

user31: at least logan is self-aware

oscarpiastri

liked by aussiegrit, yourusername and 702,443 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: sometimes all you need to do is flip an f1 car into a barrier and burst into flames to meet the love of your life (and give her third degree burns)

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user32: OSCAR WITH A BACKWARDS CAP TEACHING HER TENNIS SOMEONE CALL 911 I AM NOT OKAY

landonorris: okay we get it now you guys are cute

yourusername: for someone who was 'the reason we got together' you've changed your tune

landonorris: yes i am glad you have each other but that doesn't change the fact that i am LONELY and don't need to see gross couple stuff

oscarpiastri: you poor baby

landonorris: NO SYMPATHY?

oscarpiastri: i'm gonna cite all of your tomfoolery in the other comment sections

landonorris: okay fair

user33: okay but can we promise to never have a crash like that again?

yourusername: agreed

aussiegrit: happy for you kid

oscarpiastri: thank you mark :)

yourusername: so this is mark... hi?

aussiegrit: don't worry i've heard nothing but wonderful things about you, i look forward to meeting you at the next race

user34: y/n already has all of the approval oh wow

yourusername: i love you dummy (never do that again or i'll never talk to you again)

oscarpiastri: you got it, wins only from now on 🫡

yourusername: ur the champion in my heart

oscarpiastri: 🧡 🧡 🧡

logansargaent

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 304,788 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

logansargeant: public shaming is good sometimes. though now i third wheel with only a fish by my side

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user35: i am SCREAMING

yourusername: oh florida boy, your time will come (don't put that fish pic on your tinder, i know you want to)

logansargeant: girls love fish?

yourusername: trust me they don't

logansargeant: is this just because oscar is bad at fishing?

yourusername: DELETE IT FROM YOUR TINDER PROFILE NOW OR THIRD WHEEL FOREVER

user36: what is going on here?

alexalbon: god logan this is tragic, how did you expose him and end up with a fish as your date

logansargeant: but is the size of the fish not impressive?

alexalbon: no, take y/n's advice

oscarpiastri: fine, you're forgiven. only because y/n found it cute, if she found it weird it would be you found at the bottom of a lake

logansargeant: ???????????? there was a chilli oscar

oscarpiastri: stop hiding behind your american passport, i'd eat that chilli for you

logansargeant: but it all worked out?

oscarpiastri: thankfully for you

yourusername: is it bad that this is kinda sexy?

logansargeant: he threatened to murder me?

yourusername: he's so protective 🫶

oscarpiastri: hehehehe thanks babe x

logansargeant: i give up.

note: WOAH two in one night? i am on a roll. anyhow, do enjoy, i love oscar so much so glad he extended !! xx

[mypoisonedvine]

"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader

(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth

once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!

Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.

The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately.  No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it.  And believe it or not, he wanted more than that.  Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone.  He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night.  Either, or both, would do.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you.  He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job.  It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels.  The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security.  This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.

But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window.  His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…

He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation.  But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.

Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.

~

The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you.  He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with.  Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.

For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you.  It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction.  Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong.  This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been.  His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike.  God, did he really have a crush?  How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.

"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.

"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said.  He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.

"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.

"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.

"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"

Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."

He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive.  "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.

"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”

As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.

“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."

"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer.  Like fish in a barrel.  "How old is it?"

"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.

"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again.  "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious.  Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."

You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about.  He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.

“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson.  It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”

You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him.  “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”

“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”

“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained.  “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”

Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying.  And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still.  A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do.  And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people.  You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again.  He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it.  No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all.  Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.

And he also found that annoyingly attractive.  Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.

….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!

“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied. 

“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.

“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around.  Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”

“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own.  I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled.  “For me it’s probably cocktails.  I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.

Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess.  Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected.  All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.

“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”

You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.

“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.

For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh.  “You were on the right track,” you admitted.

“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration.  After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.

“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself.  Your drink order, I mean.”

Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far.  Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment.  “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.

He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown.  Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off?  You’d seemed so flattered before.  “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice.  “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?

“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face.  “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there.  So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch.  “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there.  I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly.  “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on.  “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”

You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace.  “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply.  “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.

“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.

“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.

Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself.  Bitch.  But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course.  Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted.  Do what I say, or he gets hurt.

Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician.  But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.

~

The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.

“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.

And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him.  He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties.  “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him.  But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going.  Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.

It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth.  “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck.  “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”

Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.

“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while.  “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."

Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long.  That made you feel more violated than anything.

“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait.  I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”

You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything.  “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”

It was the way he said that word: sweet.  It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day.  Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that.  “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”

“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.

“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”

“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face.  “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly.  “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”

“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.

“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned.  “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers.  Don’t give me one.”

Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself.  Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen.  And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.

“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.

You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.

“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.

“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.

“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.

“Yours!  Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek.  “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this.  Please don’t do this.”

You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest.  “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”

You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.

“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.

“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck.  “You’re right— you can do whatever you want.  I can’t stop you.  Isn’t that what you wanted to prove?  Just… just don’t make me—”

“Make you?” he repeated.  “No, no— you wanted me.  I could tell.  Only thing stopping you was him.”

He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.

“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you.  “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”

Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.  

“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts.  “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”

You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come.  “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.

“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.

“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick.  “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic?  That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only.  That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least.  You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”

He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.  

“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.

“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved.  “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”

"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"

Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.

A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin.  You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.  

"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"

He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"

As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.

"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself.  You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head.  He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip.  “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”

You shook your head.  “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say.  Don’t hurt him.”

“Open your legs,” he ordered.  

Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.  

“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.

He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further.  His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.

Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum.  "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled.  You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away.  Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other.  "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.

Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.  

You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking.  Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you?  Or was it for his own benefit?

He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open.  Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.  

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course.  Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely.  “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”

You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips.  “So wet.  Fuck.  When’d you get like that, huh?  Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”

He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.

“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly.  “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”

You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.

“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed.  “Fuck, I might break you…”

He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction.  There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips. 

“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless.  “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”

He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.

“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised.  “Now you try it.”

This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside.  He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.

“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks.  “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl.  Knew you could.”

You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet.  He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.

“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head.  “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”

You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned.  “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”

Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.

“Go on!  Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.

You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this.  From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening.  Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…

But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.

“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”

“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.

“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly.  “Please fuck me.”

You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you.  You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, it’s tight.  Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town.  I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”

Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.

Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this.  The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.

Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment.  “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.

“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously).  “Not used to anything this big, huh?”

You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend.  You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.

“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust.  Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life.  “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”

The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to.  It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.

“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this.  “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”

Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once.  Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder.  He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore.  Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck.  One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.

“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss.  “Fuck.”

But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him.  “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”

“God,” he growled, “say my name again.  That’s so hot.”

You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late.  “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.

“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.

“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this.  “Jackson, f-fuck—”

He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…

As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair. 

"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.

Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.

Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.

You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole.  “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.

“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.

“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain.  “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper.  Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling.  “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”

Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.

“See?  Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb.  Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.

He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck. 

"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"

He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass.  You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…

"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."

You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.

“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster.  “Needy little slut.  You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”

You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Answer me," he insisted.

"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.

"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.

"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.

“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone.  “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”

“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"

He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.

"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue.  "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."

You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.

He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction.  "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"

You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why.  It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird.  Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.

“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.  

At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting.  But in a literal sense, it hurt less.

“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back.  Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected.  You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly.  “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”

Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly.  “F-fuck, wait—“

He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him.  For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure.  “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”

As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going.  “Fuck!” you screamed.  “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.  

You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something.  Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized.  Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.

“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder.  “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll.  Show him who you really belong to now.”

“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries.  If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).

It felt fucking good.  You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious.  And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless.  You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually.  Shameless.  Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed.  “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.  

It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.  

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"

“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.

“Mm?  Why not?” he smirked.

You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that.  “What?” you just asked groggily.  “Why… why do you think?!”

He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going.  Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?

“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific.  “Fuck!”

He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing.  But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could.  You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.

He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?

As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.

“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.

You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.

“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.

Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor.  Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him.  He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat.  “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.

He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest.  You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.

When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.  

It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved.  It’s over, he’s finally done with you.  You did it.  It’s over.  But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.

“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you.  “You see it, don’t you?  He looks different now.”

You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time.  His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing.  You suddenly felt sick.

“He looks at you different now.”

You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that.  Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you.  But what had you done wrong?  All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person… 

Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder.  “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.  

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.

“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”

Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek.  “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault!  I didn’t want this to happen!”

“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”

You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly.  After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.

He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence.  “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.

“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took.  Everything. From me.”

“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you?  Can’t help that?”

“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.

“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?” 

Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience.  You shook your head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that.  I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”

“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.

“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked.  “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”

You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself.  “Work…?”

“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”