#spell crossed lovers

[liam-summers]

Soulmates + their one (1) shared brain cell fighting for its life while under a spell

[im-a-satanic-ritual]

Hear these words, hear the rhyme

Head the hope within my mind

Send me back to where I’ll find

What I seek in place and time

Him. I seek him.

[hoshigray]

Satoru and Suguru having a competition over who can impregnate their sweet shared lover first, please?

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my goodness???....you got my attention.

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; implied geto is still a jujutsu tech sorcerer - satosugu taking turns with you - kissing; making out - lotus (geto) + eagle (gojo) positions - breeding kink - scratching - multiple orgasms - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, of get tf up) - cervix fucking - creampies - clitoral play (swiping) - pet names (angel, baby, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetheart) - humor - mention of drool + heavy depictions of come/semen.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

“Oooh—Haahh! Ohhh, God, Suguu, y’ feel so good…!”

“You feel good, too, princess...Hgghh! Shit, Y/n—“

“Yo, can you hurry it up? You know I’m not a patient guy, Suguru.”

Gojo sucks his teeth while watching you get it on with Geto. It was one of those nights when they’d come home and surprise you together. Usually, one would be assigned longer shifts or missions (that one mostly being Gojo), and the other would return home to eat dinner and sleep with you. But there would be those days when they’d arrive home in unison and try to do whatever they can to have you enjoy these rare moments with all three of you.

Sometimes, it would be Gojo taking you guys to some delicious café that sells parfaits that you’d probably like or Geto having the idea to have lunch at the park and enjoy the sun together. But, of course, there’d be those days when simply being inside the apartment, talking about each other’s day, watching a random movie, and then snoring while spooning would suffice. Because it doesn’t matter what they choose to do; all three of you being at the same place is always the best!

Tonight, however, was one of those nights where they’d pull you aside, drown you in kisses and gropes, and carry you to the bedroom for a more intimate occasion. For tonight, Geto and Gojo wanted to fuck you in the hopes you’ll be with child. And what better way for the two best friends to go about such an eventful issue than by a competition to see who can fill you up the most? 

Suguru has you propped on his crossed lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands kneading your asscheeks as you bounce on his cock and wail out his name in pretty notes. This was about the third round of the night, your cunt wet and filled with both Geto’s and Gojo’s cum. The fluids stream down with every jump of your hips from the base of his girth to his balls, the sounds of your union so filthy with the groans and moans that bounce around the bedroom walls. 

Geto sighs and burrows his chin into your shoulder. “Hahhh, oh, stop your crying, Satoru. You finished your turn and didn’t hear me heckle while you and Y/n were doing it.”

The white-haired man grunts with more complaints, to Geto’s dismay. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who takes longer to finish,” he persists, even if his raven-haired friend frowns. “I don’t want you to be the reason my dick falls asleep.”

“Tch, what you should be worrying about is finishing too quickly when it’s your turn. You act like being faster is better…Heh, maybe you can’t handle Y/n better than I do.”

“You son of a—“

“Hey now,” you’re the one who mediates the growing childish tension between your husbands, turning your face to lock Gojo in a spell with your gorgeous, hooded eyes. “Be nice, Toru; it’s Sugu’s turn now, so you can have me however you want when we’re done here, okay?”

Like a heart-struck fool, pink shades creep into the helix of Gojo’s ears as he happily complies with your request. “Okay, my princess.”

Geto rolls his eyes at his friend’s display; what a total loser. As if he has room to talk because once you turn back to face him and kiss his cheek, his breath hitches. “Come on,” you whisper. “Don’t let him ruin your fun.”

The dark-haired one chuckles before claiming your lips with his, “Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

As you two kiss, you rock your hips more to create a steady rhythm on top of Geto. His girth stretches your vagina nicely, and with his pulsing veins, you can feel them rub on the velvety texture of your inner walls. It’s good that the pace is at a respectable tempo, allowing you to feel him at your wits and pleasure truly.

But the best part of this position is how easy it is to stimulate your clitoris. Every time you rock your hips against Geto’s, the bulb rubs against his body and has your frame jolting. It feels so fucking good, having your cunt stuffed with his girth member and graze your walls deliciously while your precious button is being pressed.

The pacing soon goes in sync, his subtle thrusts as you bounce your ass on him while kissing. Your mewls are taken by his hungry lips, sucking on your tongue to evoke more cute noises, your hand coming to the back of his head to massage and grab strands of his onyx hair. He’s so romantic with you and your body, the position making this intimacy so much more personal. Your chasm frequently clamps on his cock when you pull your waist up, making the man below you hiss at the grip.

He breaks the kiss, “Shit, you tighten around me so nicely…”

“Really?” You giggle, laying more kisses on his cheek and ears. It sends shivers down his spine. 

“—Khhh, damn it, I can’t...” Suddenly, Geto thrusts upwards in a faster notion, and you scream to hold on quickly and follow his cadence. “Fuck, you feel too amazing, sweetheart…!” You can’t reply to him appropriately; your only responses are narrowed down to high-pitched whines and squeals. His hands wrap around your back to keep your body close as he chases his climax, his hot face melting with the sweat of your shoulder while he pushes his cock to meet your cervix. “Hmng! Hmmnn, I’m gonna cum, baby…!”

“Ohooo, me too, Sug’ruu, me—Tahhh! Ohhh, Jesus…!” Your clit keeps bumping onto Geto, your nerves getting activated with every rut. Shaky moans leave your puffy lips, and your hand scratches his back at every jab of your delicate cervix. You bring him in for another kiss – this one a lot more rushed and steamy – and your orgasm hits you both from the erratic speed of your hips.

You two sigh heavily into each other’s mouths, your body sinking into Geto’s gentle hold as his cock ejaculates his semen into your throbbing slit. His hands massage your back while his pelvis rolls to grind his dick and have your walls clench onto him more.

With a soft sound, you remove your lips from his, smiling gently while you brush his bangs off to view his left eye. “You love to finish strong, Sugu.”

He chuckles before kissing your nose. “Can’t help it if you drive me crazy, my love—“

“Alright, round’s over!” 

Before Geto knows it, Gojo’s already on the bed, yanking you off his best friend’s lap and laying you down with your back to the sheets. He voices his discontent, trying not to appear too upset. “Excuse you? Can’t let me have a moment?”

“Nope!” He shoves a middle finger to Geto’s face, and the black-headed one almost pops a vessel. “I practically went limp after watching you two for so long. So obverse from the side and let me have my fun.”

“So annoying,” Geto mumbles under his breath, yet the milky-haired one chooses not to listen with a huff and places all his attention on you.

“Now,” Gojo turns to you with half-lidded cerulean eyes, a smile beaming too much that his dimples show up. He spreads your legs to evince your messy chasm; Geto’s come spilling down to the crevice of your butt as he massages your inner thighs. Fuck, so fucking nasty, it had him bite his lip. “You ready for more of me, baby?”

You titter, bringing your legs up your chest and spread to a V-shape. “Yes, Toru, thank you for being patient.”

He snickers while pushing his glans to meet your soapy folds, humming when the excessive come lubes your labia sufficiently for his cock to be inserted. The hug of your walls makes him moan, and you jerk as his left curve scratches the plush itch. “Fuuuuck, so warm and tight for me, baby.” 

His arms support your legs in the air, and the position allows him to initiate with slow thrusts. Your purr at his movements; the curve has you howl with every push, stretching your pussy when he propels himself into you and rubs the upper wall of your vagina. Oh God, feels so fucking good…

You peer to where his dick is plunging into your cunt, silently awing at the mussy display of cum ringing around the base of his shaft and stringing to where your folds are. Holy shit, you chew on your bottom lip and move a hand to finger your clit, silently howling at the swipes you dance around your bud. “OhhhGod, hmmmm, right there…”

Gojo looks down and sees what you’re doing, and he chuckles, “Shit, you enjoying yourself, pretty girl? Hmm?” He ruts into you with sudden haste, and an abrupt hit to your cervix has you almost choking on air. “Like being filled up, huh?”

“Ahhh, y–yesss, I lov—Mmmph!!” He grinds his pelvis down, drilling his length deep inside to scuff your smooth walls. “I love y’r dick so much, Satoruuu…!”

“Awww, look at you playing with yourself,” the view excited him more, increasing his speed to pound into you. You cry out at the poke of your cervix, clamping onto him in response. “Ahhhh, there it is,” he coos while adding more weight onto you, making his rocks precise where he wants to hit. More shrieks fly out your lips, “Wanna be bred so bad, princess? Want me to fill you up again?”

Your head aches, ears ringing from the sloppy sounds of his dick rutting inside you, his balls smack your grundel with every push. “Ahhnn, mmoohhh, ye’sss,” you whisper.

“C’mon, angel, let me hear you.” Gojo places his forehead on your sweaty one, azure eyes examining your expression in a haze. “You want—Nnngh! Fuck…Want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? Make you a mama? ”

“Yess, ’Toru, yesss!! Give me y’ur babiess, make me all fat and full!!”

“Heh, good, pretty girl; so good for—Khhckk!! Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum…” He brings his lips to yours, moaning to the kiss with you while his hips turn up to a volatile rate. Your whimpers are sucked and drunk by him, your eyebrows furrowed from the cyclical hits to your cervix and rubbing on your silky tunnel.  

Your arms come around to his shoulders, beckoning him to deepen the kiss as your body gets ready for the orgasm that hits you like a train. Trembles climb up your frame, whines muffled, and drool slips out your mouth down to your chin. Your cunt contracts around his length, milking him into his own release and filling you with his essence, adding to the pile that squelches and trickles down to the sheets beneath you. 

Gojo nibbles on your lip as he pumps every last bit of his load into you, his tongue twirling with yours until he removes his face from yours. He smiles, dimples greeting you with disheveled strands of snow-white hair sticking to his forehead. Too distracted by his charm for him to sneak in more harsh thrusts to your aching frame. 

You gasp aloud, “—Ohooo! Satoru, nooo! I’m too sensitive nowww..!!”

“Mmmm, sorry, princess,” an apology with a smile doesn’t match, placing a kiss on your forehead as you wail for him while he ruts into your vulnerable slit. “You just feel too good, can never get enou—Owwww!!”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Witness to the entire thing, Geto smacks Gojo with a house slipper before pulling him off you and throwing him to the side. The blue-eyed man looks at the other with an annoyed face. “I should be asking you the same thing, you psycho; what’s with the assault!?”

“Did you forget? Your turn is up,” indigo eyes narrow with a dark glint. “So why are you still moving?”

“Oh, quit yapping, giant earlobes! Can’t a guy squeeze in a few more before I get off…Or what, you scared I’d make them pregnant first? Your frail soldiers can’t compete with mine, is that it?” 

“Hah, you tell me, blue-eyed snowflake; you’re the one still trying to fuck into them like you’re afraid your load isn’t enough. Poor guy; can’t be a sore loser too early, now.”

“Choke on my dick!”

“You first.”

The two bicker back and forth while you observe, unable to find the right cue to intervene as you’re still in a daze. You sit on your side, feeling the liquids inside you exit your frame and slide down your thighs.

As they fight, you remember that you had forgotten to tell them that you took a birth control pill earlier today after they texted about returning home together. It wasn’t until after dinner that they said they wanted to try and fuck and fill you to the brim, practically dragging you to the room before you could utter a word to them about the contraceptive.

…Oh well, surely they don’t mean to have a baby right this moment. Plus, there will be other times! So, for now, you watch your husbands argue before you while shaking your head with a smile.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[cybercore-creations]

To Love without a heart

"Axel, you infuriate me. Your recklessness, your defiance… they challenge everything I've come to accept. You make me question everything I've been."

Cw: None

In the twilight-hued corridors of The Castle That Never Was, tension was thick between two members of Organization XIII. Saix strode down the dimly lit hallway, his icy blue eyes narrowed in frustration. Axel leaned against a wall, a scowl etched on his face as he crossed his arms. The two Nobodies had been engaged in a heated argument that seemed to have no end in sight.

"You just don't get it, do you, Axel?" Saix's voice carried a sharp edge, his emotions seeping through the façade of stoicism he usually wore like armor.

Axel scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer to Saix. "No, I get it just fine. You're all about following orders, no matter how ridiculous they are."

Saix's nostrils flared, a flash of anger momentarily replacing his usually controlled demeanor. "Unlike you, I don't let my personal feelings interfere with my duty."

"Oh, really?" Axel's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And what about that one time you let Xion escape, huh? That seemed pretty personal to me."

Saix's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white. "You know nothing about that situation, Axel. It was more complicated than you could ever understand."

Axel took a step forward, his face inches from Saix's. "And what's so complicated about you always following Xemnas' orders without question?"

The tension in the air was palpable, the animosity between the two Nobodies reaching its breaking point. But in the midst of the anger and frustration, something unexpected happened. Saix's icy blue eyes softened, a conflicted emotion flickering within them. He hesitated, his breath catching for a moment before he spoke again, his voice quieter, tinged with vulnerability. "You think it's easy for me? To always follow orders, to suppress my own desires?"

Axel's brow furrowed in confusion, the fiery rage in his eyes giving way to surprise. "What are you talking about?"

Saix's gaze dropped for a moment, his hands relaxing from their clenched position. When he looked up again, his eyes held a mixture of trepidation and sincerity. "Axel, you infuriate me. Your recklessness, your defiance… they challenge everything I've come to accept. You make me question everything I've been."

Axel's expression softened, a glimmer of understanding replacing his anger. "Saix…"

Saix took a deep breath, his shoulders tensing as he bared his emotions, something he had never allowed himself to do before. "I've always followed orders, Axel. Always followed Xemnas' vision without hesitation. But then you came along, and suddenly there's this part of me that wants to break free from those chains."

Axel's gaze held a mixture of surprise and empathy. "Saix, I didn't know…"

Saix shook his head, his silver hair falling slightly over his forehead. "Of course, you didn't. I've kept these feelings buried for so long."

The confession hung in the air, the corridor suddenly feeling smaller as the weight of Saix's words settled between them. Axel's eyes widened, his surprise evident, but he didn't react with his usual sarcasm. Instead, he took a step closer, his expression shifting to something more genuine. "Saix, I… I didn't expect that."

Saix's breath caught, uncertainty clouding his eyes. "I know it's complicated. I know we're Nobodies, emotions and all that. But I can't ignore what I feel."

Axel's lips twitched into a small, thoughtful smile. "You know, you could've just bought me sea-salt ice cream like a regular guy."

Despite the tension, a flicker of amusement danced in Saix's eyes. "I thought I'd try something a little more dramatic."

Axel chuckled, and for a moment, the weight of their argument seemed to fade. "You definitely succeeded on that front."

Saix let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, a small smile gracing his lips. "So, where do we go from here, Axel?"

Axel's smile grew warmer as he reached out and placed a hand on Saix's arm. "How about we start by not arguing all the time?"

Saix nodded, his gaze locked with Axel's. "That sounds like a good place to start."

[chrissmou]

June Reads

Hi, everyone, every month I would like to tell you about the books I read this month and what a delight it was. I read 10 books this month, six of which are in the Stay a Spell series by Juliette Cross. I would say a little about the series I have already talked about, but you can go read the post I made last week on the series. So, let’s talk about them in the order I read them. As always, I am going to have their Goodreads links:

1.      The Golden Ball and Other Stories by Agatha Christie: A collection of short stories with topics from mysteries to supernatural and romance. A clear stand-out for me is “The Golden Ball” a story about a couple who fantasized that they were married and looking for a home with an unexpected ending.

2.      The Harlequin Tea Set and Other Stories by Agatha Christie: A Short Stories Collection with topics from mysteries to many others. A clear stand-out for me is “The Lonely God” about a painter and a rich girl who met in the museum looking at a statue.

3.      Five Little Pigs by Agatha Christie: An Hercule Poirot with a lullaby about a long-made murder and Poirot’s investigation with the main suspects. It is a wonderful example of her novels with a country estate, good characters, and a twist no one is going to see coming.

4.      Wolf Gone Wind by Juliette Cross: A good start to a good series of books about romance and sisterhood; this one makes you want to go and read the rest of the series. It says about the four creatures and the lives of the sisters and gives you clues for other books too.

5.      Don’t Hex and Drive by Juliette Cross: I liked the characters of the books and the plot I also liked the magic and how the author incorporated Indian culture in this one. We dipped more and into the world of the supernatural world of New Orleans as we follow the second sister going into her love story.

6.      Witches Get Stitches by Juliette Cross: I loved the friends-to-lovers romance of the series about a snarky witch and a lovable werewolf with a little obsessive behavior. I loved the issues of equality it had and how without saying something about the current issues in the real world she talked about them in a new way.

7.      Always Practice Safe Hex by Juliette Cross: I love in general the enemies-to-lovers romance and this had it all. Amazing characters, good rows, a work environment, and steamy sex scenes in a delight of a book.

8.      Resting Witch Face by Juliette Cross: I thought the two characters had chemistry in the previous books but in this one, it exploded with the bonus of going to the United Kingdom for a setting. I loved also, the one-bed plot in this as it was a good one early in the book, too.

9.      Grim and Bear It by Juliette Cross: Did you know that have a soft spot for blond sunshine girls and grumpy dressed in black with a soft spot? I have and this has the addition of butterflies, necromancy, and a murder mystery to solve, all with steamy scenes. Also, it has a romance book club with real books in it and most of them historical.

10.   Ties That Bind by Kika Hatzopoulou: I loved all of this book. From the great world-building to the mythology woven in. The murder mystery in this one and the social issues feel very real as it depicts a city with gangs and immigrants. Also, I loved the characters and how they were connected to ancient mythologies and the powers possessed by the descendants of ancient gods like the protagonist, Io who is Moira-born, the descendant of the Greek Fates, and the threads they weave to connect people and their life. It is a great beginning of the series and I can’t wait to read the next when it is published.

[goldenstring6123]

HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶

Lnds: Sticky little lover

Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.

Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~

Zayne:

Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.

The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.

When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.

Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.

Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.

Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.

You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.

When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.

Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.

Rafayel:

They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.

Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."

You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.

Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.

Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.

You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.

"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."

He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.

When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.

You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.

You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.

Sylus:

His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.

Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.

His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.

The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.

You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.

Xavier:

You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.

Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?

You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.

He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.

When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.

In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.

Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.

Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[logansdoll]

jim beam

navigating life in a new universe was already a bit of a struggle for Logan... and Wade just had to make it worse (or far, far, far better) by giving him a "house-warming gift".

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Deadpool 3, Wade is actually really hard to write for, Logan deserves the world, comfort, angst if you squint, etc.

"Honey, I'm home!" Wade loudly sang, kicking open the door to Logan's apartment with a dramatic flourish.

"Fuck me," Logan groaned from his spot on the couch, closing his eyes and allowing his head to lull back with annoyance.

This defeated the entire purpose of why he got his own apartment in the first place.

To avoid these types of interactions with the most persistently, consistently annoying asshole in the entire multiverse.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to the friend who's about to bring your long lost lover back from the dead?" Wade tutted, skipping into the living room, taking notice of the bottle of liquor resting in Logan's hand.

'So it's that kinda morning...'

"Jim Beam at 10 am on a Tuesday?" he noted, "Well, I guess it's five o'clock nowhere... so have at it."

"What did you just say?" Logan sat up straight, brows furrowed as he focused on Wade's previous statement.

"Alcoholics everywhere salute you for taking your liver where no organ has gone before."

"Wade."

"I'm honestly starting to believe you do it for the love of the game rather than the expositional, look how sad he is plot device the author is currently using... I mean, seriously? Can we skip past all this bullshit and get to the—"

Quickly, Logan grabbed him by the front of his suit, yanking him closer with an angrily confused expression.

"If anything besides a goddamn answer comes out of your mouth... I will stab you in the face," he growled, spelling out each syllable to further his point. "What the hell do you mean bring her back from the dead?"

To Logan, you were everything

The sun. The moon. The air. The clouds.

Despite seeing all the horrible thing he'd done, and knowing firsthand just how much of an asshole he could be, you still smiled at him.

No matter how many times he pushed you away, you were relentless.

Keeping his room together while he was away finding himself.

Making him meals when you noticed he he'd gone without eating.

Forcing him to take breathers after intense sessions in the Danger Room.

For the longest, he couldn't wrap his head around someone like you caring about a jackass like him.

Until he got fed up and just outright asked.

But, as if nothing, you answered:

"Your past makes think you don't deserve love, Logan," you started, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned up against the counter. "You storm around here with a rude ass attitude and a smart mouth hoping to convince me of that... but if anything, you're only making it worse for yourself."

You smiled, looking up at him with a glint in your eye that sent shocks running down his spine.

"Because in my heart of hearts I know you're a man who wants care and attention, just like everybody else."

With a chuckle, you rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"And I'll keep shovin' dinners down your throat until you realize that."

Despite having everyone else fooled, you saw right through him, and true to your word, you didn't give up.

With every made bed, every meal, every conversation, Logan felt himself falling deeper into your charm, and over a glass of Jim Beam did he finally realize that he was in love with you.

But, like everything else he cared about in this world, you were taken away from him.

Unable to find your body in the rubble of the mansion, he looked high and low, quite literally going to the ends of the Earth to find you.

But after years of searching with nothing to show for it, he returned to the bottle, drowning himself in sorrow and regret.

Or, at least... until now.

"Well, according to the manual, she's not exactly dead, but she is unconscious," Wade answered, matter-of-factly.

"Unconscious?" Logan's brows furrowed, still quite confused.

Freeing himself from the man's grip, Wade stood up, going back around the couch and pulling out a small tablet from his pocket.

"See, I've noticed your humble abode could use a little sprucing, so I went back to our buddies at the TVA and kindly reminded them that you saved the multiverse and, godammnit, you deserve a reward."

"Get to the fuckin' point, jackass," Logan spat, turning to face him.

"So they sent some men back to your universe and found your girl!" Wade cheered, opening up a portal and reaching his hand in, pulling out a cryo-chamber with you inside.

The moment Logan's eyes met your sleeping face, all color and vibrancy seemed to return to the world.

He was at a loss for words.

You were here... not some dream or hallucination of guilt... but actually, truly, physically here.

"Apparently, some science fuckers were keeping her in a black site and testing to see how long she could go without aging. I won't bore you with the details," Wade explained, pulling out a small knife from his boot. "Now, let's break this bad boy open and meet the future Mrs. Wolverine!"

Before Logan could stop him, Wade stabbed the keypad at the side of the chamber, opening the door and sending you falling forward.

In an instant, Logan dropped his bottle and leaped over the couch, catching you just before you could face-plant on the hardwood floor.

"Watch it!" Logan roared, less than happy that you'd only been there for about three minutes and Wade had already almost broken your nose.

"I am so sorry!" Wade gasped, his hands slapping his cheeks in shock. "I didn't think she'd actually fall out the chamber when they told me she'd fall out the chamber... Nice save, though, Romeo."

Turning you over, Logan cupped your cheek, the chill of your skin already beginning to warm.

But you were still out cold, limp in his grasp as he held you close to his chest.

"She's not waking up..." Logan noticed, brows furrowed. "Why the hell isn't she waking up?"

"Easy there, tiger. They told me how long it takes varies from person to person," Wade assured, shutting the portal. "Some take minutes, others hours. It could be a couple of days before she even opens her eyes."

An expression of solemnity slid over Logan's face as he gazed over yours, your skin still so flesh colored, it looked as if you were sleeping.

Just as soft and tender as he remembered.

And he had full intentions on keeping it that way.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he ghosted his hand over your cheek.

In that moment, he swore to himself that he'd never leave you again.

He'd be a friend, a bodyguard, a lover, whatever you wanted, but no matter his title, anything that wanted to harm you would have to do so over his dead body.

And even then he'd force himself to get back up and fight.

This world was giving him a second chance at life, a second chance at a life with you, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it.

Suddenly, you took in an aggressive gasp, scaring the shit out of Wade as your eyes snapped open.

"Holy fucking shit nuggets!" he jolted, jumping from his spot across he room as Logan allowed his shoulders to sink, mumbling a quiet thanks to whatever god or deity brought you back to him.

Feeling a strong set of arms cradling you, you looked up, solace setting into your bones at the sight of the familiar man before you, who was unable to stop the few joyful tears escaping his eyes.

"Logan—"

Without a moment's hesitation, his lips were on yours, making up for what felt like a lifetime of loss by dumping all of his passion, all of his love, all of his devotion into one Earth shattering kiss.

You melted into it seamlessly, your hand finding home in his scruffy hair as he pulled you flush against him, clutching you with a death grip.

Donning a cheeky smile under his mask, Wade turned away to give you both a moment, thought not without making a crude sex gesture behind his back.

'I don't think Miss (Y/N)/Girl Sitting At Home Reading This is gonna be able to walk tomorrow...'

With a gasp, the two of you separated, Logan's hand raising to cup your cheek, relishing how easily you leaned into him.

"(y/n)... I thought I lost you," he panted, his eyes scouring over your face, committing every detail to memory.

"For a while, you did," you sighed with a grin, carding a hand through the few gray strands in his hair, before comparing them to your own. "Time looks good on you."

He chuckled, quietly relieved you still found him attractive after all these years.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled the man into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not really sure what happened... or how I'm alive..." you weakly laughed, starting to get choked up. "But I know that if you go out drinking without me ever again, I'm putting your head on a spike."

Instantly, Logan's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you reverently as if he let go for one moment, the powers that be would part him from you.

"I swear on my life... I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

[gubsbuubs]

I hate it when you're right

(18+)

Pairing: Jake Peralta x Female!Reader

Warnings: Friends to lovers; LOTS of teasing, slow burn?, Smut; Creampie; Dirty talk.

Request:Could you do a Jake Peralta x Reader work partners to hookup? Like they’ve been work partners forever, until one night way too late at the bar they hook up? And realize “oh fuck maybe i do like him like that?”

A/N: Hi, my loves! I´m not dead I swear. Here's the first Peralta smut, hope everyone enjoys. 🍒

English is not my first language - My requests are open!

"How much longer is this going to take?" Peralta's agitated voice echoed through the dark alley as he paced back and forth, his restless energy practically bouncing off the walls.

I understood his frustration; we'd been waiting for what felt like hours, when in reality, it had only been about forty minutes. Compared to the nearby street, this alley was dark and dank; graffiti adorned the walls, and the air smelled faintly of waste. At the end of it stood an abandoned store, rumored to be a hotspot for illegal drug deals. After receiving a tip earlier this nigth, we had been staking out the area in hopes of catching distributors. Slowly, I watched as Peralta's impatience grew, and I couldn't help but wonder if our tip had just been a false lead.

Amidst the distant sounds of traffic and the faint hum of the city, Jake's distressed movements seemed amplified; every passing car and footstep only seemed to fuel his uneasiness. Honestly, I couldn't blame him; this place gave off major creepy vibes, but we had a job to do, and that meant keeping our cool and waiting for the right person to arrive.

"Hey, take a breather," I suggested, attempting to soothe his nervous demeanor. "You're coming off a bit suspicious."

He halted in his tracks, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. I just can't stand waiting, you know?"

"I understand, but we really need to keep it together," I stressed, aiming to ease his tension. "Can you just stand there and act normal?"

"I'm tryiiiiiiing," his voice tinged with a hint of whining as he continued pacing.

"Well, try harder," I urged, "You look like a total cop right now."

His pacing halted abruptly, and he turned to me with wide eyes, a look of realization dawning on his face. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," he muttered frantically. "We look like cops, and we´re getting shot in the face."

"Relax, Peralta," I chuckled, trying to inject some levity into the situation.

"Y/n" He sighed deeply, standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets,"I don't want to get shot; my face is my prized possession." His brow furrowed as he confessed dramatically.

I tilted my head, "Come on, Peralta," I quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corners of my lips. "If you get shot, I think your face would be the least of our concerns. I mean, you'd be dead!"

"Man, I should've prepared a character for a cover-up," Jake exclaimed, shaking his head ruefully. "We can't just stand here looking like this... like cops."

"Well, it's a little late for that now,"

He let out an exaggerated sigh, crossing his arms in frustration. "Let me think of something," he declared, his hand moving to his chin and rubbing it thoughtfully as he pondered our predicament.

I couldn't help but chuckle softly as I glanced around at the dimly lit street nearby, feeling the tension slowly dissipate as Jake's panicked expression softened into one of contemplation.

But then, with a sudden clarity, Jake snapped his fingers, "I've got it!" he exclaimed.

His words were accompanied by his familiar, stupid, and playful smirk. It was a look that spelled trouble, and to be honest, although I knew nothing good would come out of his mouth, I couldn't help but feel intrigued.

"Spill it, Peralta," I said, my hands tucked into my jean pockets, adopting a casual stance as I awaited his response. With Jake, you never quite knew what you were going to get, but you could always count on it being entertaining, if nothing else.

"You see, Y/n," he approached slowly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as his left hand found its place against the wall behind me, anchoring me as he leaned in. "I was thinking..." he trailed off, his tone dripping with exaggerated suspense.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes playfully at his teasing manner. "Oh, here we go again," I retorted gently, halting his advances with a hand on his chest. "Another one of Jake's brilliant ideas, right?"

"Come on, Y/N, don't be like that," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and pleading. "You know you love my brilliant ideas."

"Oh, absolutely," I replied with a touch of sarcasm. "They're right up there with 'let's infiltrate this wedding' and 'let's dress up as clowns for the undercover operation.'"

"Hey, those are classic moments in my detective history," he protested, a grin spreading across his face. "One day they'll make a movie about me."

I couldn't resist lightly patting his chest. "Sure, buddy, for sure."

As Jake leaned in closer, I couldn't deny the surge of warmth that spread through me. Despite my attempts to conceal it, his proximity was starting to affect me.

Jake and I had a playful dynamic, often flirting with each other, and he wasn't shy about expressing his interest; he even told me countless times how I was "missing out" on a chance to be with him.

And don´t get me wrong, while I did find him undeniably attractive, I was hesitant to entertain the idea of taking things beyond friendship. Our coworker-turned-friend relationship was something I cherished, and I didn't want to risk complicating it with romantic entanglements.

So, no, nothing ever happened apart from the casual, harmless flirting. Our banter kept things light and enjoyable, never crossing the line into anything more serious. Despite the occasional temptation, we both understood the importance of maintaining boundaries in our friendship.

"Seriously, hear me out on this one," he continued, "What if we… I don't know… pretend to make out? It's the perfect cover-up!" His suggestion hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence as we both processed the absurdity of his idea. His head fell to the side, awaiting my response with a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"You wish, Peralta." I laughed and shook my head. "I mean, I know you'd do anything to steal a kiss from me, but making out in a dark alley? That's a bit too romantic even for you, don't you think?"

"Hey, it was worth a shot, right?" As he moved to step away from the wall, I caught movement at the beginning of the street behind him. Acting quickly, I grabbed him by the tie, the one he always refused to wear, and shot him a warning look. Understanding my silent cue, he lowered his head to mine, trying to appear inconspicuous as he whispered in my ear. "Is it them?"

"Maybe," I quietly answered, my heart pounding as I realized we were being watched. The figures stood at the beginning of the street, whispering to each other; they wore on to us for sure.

"Oh my god, they know, don't they?" he whispered, his voice tinged with worry. "What do we do, Y/L/N? I don't want to get shot in the face," he pleaded, his panic palpable.

Fuck I hate when he's right...

"Screw it," I whispered, my voice filled with determination. Pulling him closer, I crashed my lips into his. He immediately reacted, his arms encircling my waist as he pinned me against the wall. His lips were softer than I imagined, but his hands were rough as they traveled up my sides to rest on the back of my neck, pulling me even closer. Although the kiss was a desperate attempt to obfuscate the approaching perps, it was evident that Jake was definitely enjoying it more than it was intended. I couldn't help but give in to the moment as our kiss intensified as his tongue traced over my lower lip, kindly begging for more.

The footsteps grew louder, signaling the approach of whoever was out there. Without a second thought, his hand found its place on the back of my thigh, pulling me in closer. With my leg lifted around him, our bodies pressed together, and his fingers lightly held me in place.

Abruptly, the footsteps ceased and a voice cut through the moment. "Hey, what are you guys doing here?" one of the men asked, his tone cautious.

Jake broke the kiss. "Do you mind?" He retorted sharply, giving the guy a pointed look, before catching my lips again. I eagerly responded, letting my hands tangle up in his hair as he leaned closer to me.

The two guys just chuckled and exchanged knowing glances before sauntering off to the end of the alley. It worked; the stupid plan actually worked.

I waited until the footsteps were barely audible before breaking the kiss. I raised my head to get a better look, and Jake let his lips travel, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses down my chin and into my neck. I bit my lip as I suppressed a moan I knew I was holding, glancing to see the two figures waiting by the door. "Jake, they're just standing there." I breathed out.

"Keep your eyes on them," he ordered, as he pressed himself against me.

I fought to keep my focus, torn between the intoxicating sensation of Jake's lips on me and the need to maintain our cover. Despite the overwhelming desire to lose myself in the moment, I stole quick glances towards where the perps stood, ensuring we weren't drawing any unwanted attention.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a new figure emerged, a brown bag in hand, joining the other two with a casual greeting. My heart pounded in my chest; it was going down, and we were going to get these guys. "Jake... Jake," I whispered urgently, breaking our embrace. His eyes met mine, and he immediately understood. Without hesitation, we sprang into action, charging towards the unsuspecting trio.

"NYPD!" Jake's voice boomed, cutting through the tense silence with commanding authority as he brandished his gun. I followed suit, drawing my own weapon, the weight of it familiar and reassuring in my hand. The perps froze, their faces registering shock as they realized they had been caught red-handed.

—xx—

It had been a few days since that night in the alley. With the intel we extracted from the three guys Jake and I caught, we successfully dismantled one of the biggest drug operations in Brooklyn. And to top it off, we managed to nab the ringleader himself. It was a major win for the team and definitely a cause for celebration. So naturally, we found ourselves at Shaw's, ready to toast to our victory.

"To the Nine-Nine," Captain Holt's voice resounded with strength as he lifted his glass high in the center of our circle. "To the Nine-Nine," we all echoed, raising ours in unison. With cheers and the clinking of half-empty glasses, we celebrated our hard work.

"Now disperse," he announced, his tone carrying a hint of warmth. "I want you all to have fun tonight; you deserve it." and with a wave of his hand, he indicated for us to move from our celebratory circle, encouraging us to enjoy the rest of the evening.

With that, I abruptly turned to face the bar, my attention drawn to the array of bottles lining the shelves. Caught off guard by a sudden collision, I stumbled backward, my balance momentarily disrupted. As I blinked in surprise, I found myself locking eyes with Jake, his hands reaching out to steady me by the waist. A rush of warmth flooded through me at the contact, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as our gazes lingered.

"Whoa, sorry about that," I mumbled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as embarrassment washed over me.

His expression turned sheepish as he offered a tentative smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine warmth. After a brief moment of silence, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey, no worries," he said lightly, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. Raising a hand, he scratched the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture. "Guess I should've watched where I was going, huh?"

Our eyes remained locked, neither of us willing to be the first to look or moove away. "Well, at least we're not in an alley this time," I blurted out, trying to break the awkwardness with a touch of humor. He chuckled softly, the tension between us easing slightly as we both shared a small laugh.

"Dark alley or not, this was a great case," he said, his tone softening as he spoke. "I loved working with you, and I think we did a great job." His sincerity warmed my heart, and his light squeeze on my side felt like a silent reassurance.

Taking a step back, I broke away from his hold, trying to compose myself. My heart raced with the sudden rush of emotions. "Well... um..." I stammered nervously, my mind scrambling for something coherent to say. "I think we should celebrate. I'll be with Rosa at the bar," I continued, my voice wavering slightly as I awkwardly backed away from where we stood. "I'll see you around, Peralta."

As I approached the bar, Rosa's amused expression was already evident. Her playful tone cut through the air as I settled onto the bar stool beside her.

"What the hell was that?" she quipped.

I offered a weak shrug, attempting to play it cool. "What was what?" my voice slightly shaking as I avoided her knowing gaze.

"Oh, come on," she teased, gesturing toward the table behind her where Peralta and Charles were now seated. "That little dance back there, the eyefucking," she continued.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, no eyes were fucking back there!" I held my finger up in protest, trying to suppress a nervous laugh.

She sighed and took a sip of her drink, her gaze thoughtful. "Man, what the hell happened on the stakeout? You guys have been so weird…the glances, the lingering touches..."

"Hey, we have been doing none of that," I lied, attempting to deflect Rosa's probing with a forced casualness. Deep down, I knew she wasn't the only one who noticed. Despite being preoccupied with the bust operation for the past few days, I couldn't ignore the subtle shifts in Jake's behavior around me. He looked at me more often than usual, sat closer, and his touches lingered longer. I understood it all too well. I wasn't oblivious. We shared a kiss, and it wasn't just any kiss. There was something there—something I couldn't shake off.

"Bullshit," she retorted, "I mean, I understand tuning Boyle out when he talks, but Jake is literally not listening to a single word."

I glanced from my drink to the booth where Jake sat, slumped against the leather cushions with his legs spread out. He appeared relaxed, toying with his whisley glass that sat on his thigh. His gaze was already on me, peeking through his lowered eyebrows.

Our eyes met, and in that moment, I found myself unable to look away from him, captivated by the intensity of his gaze. What the hell was this man doing to me? It was as if every fiber of my being was drawn to him, despite my best efforts to resist.

"See, you're doing it again!" Rosa exclaimed loudly, her voice cutting through the chatter of the bar.

I immediately shook my head, laughing nervously. "Oh my god! Doing what, Diaz?" I turned toward the bar, signaling for another round of drinks, hoping to distract both of us from the uncomfortable topic.

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she leaned in closer. "The. Eye. Fucking," she punctuated each word.

"Rosa! No!" I exclaimed, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "No eyefucking going on," I added quickly, hoping to put an end to the teasing before it went any further.

"I know you kissed him," she said casually, her tone soft but firm, leaving no room for denial.

"What? No, that's not true!" My voice probably went up an octave, betraying my attempt at denial.

Rosa didn't waver, analyzing my reaction with a knowing look that seemed to cut straight through me.

"Fuck," I shook my head, looking to the side in resignation. "Okay, fine, I did, but it was only for the mission," I admitted reluctantly.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Sure, sure, just for the mission."

"Oh, shut up," I lightly smacked her arm, playfully annoyed. "Who told you anyway?"

"Let's just say I have my sources,", a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Diaz!" I threatened, pointing my finger at her. "Spill it now or else!" My tone was half-joking, but there was a hint of determination in my eyes.

"Okay, okay," she conceded, raising her hands in defense. "It was Boyle."

"Boyle knows?" My eyes widened with shock. If Boyle knew, then everyone knew.

"Yeah, apparently Jake was glowing," she confirmed, "All smiles, couldn't stop grinning like a kid in a candy store." She took another sip of her drink, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "So Boyle insisted, and eventually, he spilled the beans."

"Man, that's so embarrassing," I groaned, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks as I buried my face in my hands.

"Why?" Rosa regarded me with a serious expression.

"Well, because, you know... it's Jake," I mumbled, struggling to find the right words. "I don't want to... to..."

She held knowing look in her eyes, like she could read my thoughts, "To what?"

"Well, you know... be with him... I don't want that," Despite my attempt at denial, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I wasn't convincing anyone, not even myself, that I didn't want Jake.

"Man, it's obvious you guys want to be with each other; just go for it," she said with a shrug, her tone matter-of-fact. "I mean, he's still eyefucking you across the room," she added, gesturing once again in Jake's direction, her point crystal clear.

"He is, isn't he?" I lightly smacked my forehead, as if to hide my face, letting out a chuckle. I felt a sense of relief wash over me; deep down, I knew she had a point.

Glancing over to Jake, it seemed like he hadn't moved an inch since I last looked at him.

"He's not the most subtle," she said, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

I pondered for a moment as I swirled my drink. Well, if Jake was willing to put himself out there to show his interest so openly, then maybe I should do the same. Maybe it was time to stop dancing around each other and just go for it.

"I have to fuck him, don't I?" I quipped with a smile, my voice low and filled with a hint of mischief.

Rosa burst into laughter at my bold declaration, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Well, you don't have to, you know?" she replied between giggles, shaking her head at my blunt honesty.

I finished my drink and set the glass down with a determined nod. "I think I do," I admitted, my voice firm and resolute.

Rosa grinned approvingly. "That's my girl," she said with a proud nod.

"See you tomorrow, Diaz!" I said, giving her shoulder a friendly pat as I left the stool and made my way towards his table.

As I approached, Jake supported a knowing smile, his gaze unwavering from mine, completely focused on me, completely tuning out the random story Boyle was spewing about.

"Hey guys," I announced as I reached the table, "I'm not feeling really well," I admitted, but my tone lacked any hint of tiredness or distress making Jake's eyebrows perk up at my unconvincing excuse. "So I'll just head home, I think I can still catch the last train." It was a statement crafted with a specific purpose in mind—a subtle cue for Jake to follow me. So, I waited for the response I knew was coming, and Jake didn't disappoint.

Quickly drowning his drink, he stood up from his seat. 'No, no, train, come on!' His fingers motioned in an approaching gesture. 'I'll take you home.'"

"Oh…But!" Boyle exclaimed, "But you said you'd take me home…"

We stood in silence for a moment and watched as Boyle's expression shifted from confusion to realization in an instant. Standing up from his seat, he enveloped Jake in a bear hug, practically lifting him off the ground in his excitement. "You know what? It´s a great night! I guess I'll take a stroll along the river," he exclaimed cheerfully, patting Jake on the back before waving us goodbye.

The car ride had been silent so far, the only sounds filling the air were the gentle hum of the engine and the soft background music playing from the radio. Despite the lack of conversation, I couldn't shake the feeling of Jake's eyes on me, his scrutiny palpable, and I was keenly aware of the warmth creeping up my neck. Glancing over, I found Jake stealing glances in my direction, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Eyes on the road, Detective," I said, my finger lightly pushing his chin in the direction of the road, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

His grin widened, but he quickly turned his attention back to the task at hand, his fingers tapping lightly on the weel. "So, you weren't feeling well, huh?" Jake quipped, "Must be that sudden wave of 'I-can't-resist-Jake syndrome,' huh?"

Raising an eyebrow, I turned in my seat to face him slightly. "Oh, you think you're so funny, don't you?"

"It's a burden, really," he added with an exaggerated sigh. "Having to be this funny all the time,"

"Sometimes I wonder if you're compensating for something with all that humor."

"Oh, please, like you're not secretly enjoying every moment of it." He let his head fall back sligthy as he let out a troathy chuckle. "I couldn't help but notice how your eyes kept wandering over to me tonight. Got a little crush, Y/n?"

"Please, Peralta, don't flatter yourself. I was just admiring the artwork on the walls" I remarked with a sly smile as I leaned closer, my arm resting behind his seat and my breath brushing against his cheek. "You, on the other hand, were really pushing it out there. I mean, could you have been more obvious?"

"Oh, come on," he glanced over at me. "You can't fool me with that excuse. I know you were totally checking me out."

"Maybe…" I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, a playful glint in my eyes.

"Of course you were," he replied, his hand moving from the steering wheel to rest lightly on my thigh. "And can you blame yourself? Of course not. I mean, look at me."

"Please, Peralta, you're not that irresistible." I scoffed while looking down at his hand, trying to maintain my composure despite the growing warmth between my legs.

"Oh, I beg to differ," he murmured as his fingers now traced gentle circles on my thigh, "Admit it, Y/N. You've been dying for me to touch you like this."

My breath caught in my throat, and I simply let out a chuckle as I slumped back against my seat. "You're trouble, you know that?" I shook my head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in my tone, as I let my gaze drift out the window.The familiar facade of my building stood tall against the city skyline as the car gently came to a stop.

"Yeah, guilty as charged," he murmured as we stepped out onto the sidewalk.

With a coy smile, I glanced back over my shoulder. "You know that if you're guilty of something, you shouldn't be confessing your crimes to a cop."

"Well, lucky for me, Detective, you've been off the clock for..." He glanced at his watch as he trailed closely behind me, "...3 hours and 38 minutes now.

"I might be off the clock, but I can still cuff you, Peralta," I said, tapping the handcuffs at my waist.

As I turned the key and my fingers fumbled with the locks I heard him inching closer. I could feel the warmth of his body as he pressed against my back, with gentle precision, he lowered his head, and I felt his breath grazing the nape of my neck.

"Me, in cuffs, at your mercy?" His lips brushed against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh, but wouldn't that be the highlight of your night?" His voice was low and filled with playful suggestion.

With a soft laugh, I finally managed to open the door, turning to face him, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Are you projecting, Peralta?" I countered as I met his gaze, slowly backing away, inviting him in as he approached me at the entryway.

He quickly stepped in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The room felt suddenly smaller, warmer, with just the two of us. As he reached me, he circled his arms around my waist, pulling me closer "Mehh, maybe just a little,". His fingers deftly undid the zipper of my leather jacket, and his eyes didn't tear away from my chest.

"Like what you see, Peralta?" I quipped, letting my hands meet his own on his chest.

"Yeah," he chuckled as he leaned in to press a kiss on my collarbone. "You changed your curtains, didn't you?" He added playfully, his breath warm against my skin.

"Oh yeah?" I slowly started undoing the buttons on his shirt. "I can't believe you´d noticed that."

As we reached the sofa, his hands guided my jacket off, the leather slipping down my arms with a subtle force. Our eyes remained locked as the leather pooled at my feet.

I gestured with a tilt of my head for him to take a seat, and with grin he complied, his fingers skillfully undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt. I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed under the fabric as he discarded it to the side. Then he eased onto the sofa, spreading his legs and letting his arms rest casually on the back of it, lightly tilting his head back.

As I removed my pants, he drew in a deep breath, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on me. Straddling him, I rested my hands on his shoulders, sensing his firm grip on the back of my thighs for stability. With my knees on either side of him, I gradually eased myself onto his lap, the heat of his chest pressing against mine, still covered by the random top I threw on this morning.

"No perps today?" he joked, his hands settling on my ass while his nose lightly brushed against my chest, inhaling my scent. "I kind of enjoyed the audience."

I shook my head as I leaned down to grab his chin, urging him to meet my gaze. "Just you and me, Jake," I murmured against his lips. "What do you think?"

"Well, Y/n," he whispered, "I think you should really kiss me."

"Yeah, I should," I nodded, but just as our lips were about to meet, I pulled back slightly. "Or maybe I'll just leave you hanging," I teased as I leaned back, keeping him at arm's length.

Jake's eyes widened in surprise. "You're playing dirty now, huh?" His hands cupped my flesh forcefully as he pulled me forward, spreading my cheeks slightly and pressing me against him. The sudden movement elicited a gasp from my lips, feeling the subtle grind of his crotch against mine. A soft moan escaped me as I surrendered to the satisfying friction rocking my hips against his bulge.

"Maybe," I teased once again, leaning in close before pulling back again. I intensified the grind of my hips as his hands moved to my shoulders, sliding the straps of my top down, the fabric gathering around my stomach, exposing more of my skin to his hungry gaze.

"You're killing me here," he protested as his fingers traced the delicate lacy edges of my bra.

"Oh, but where's the fun in making it easy for you?"

As his head fell back against the sofa, a deep exhale escaped him, a mix of frustration and pleasure. Seizing the opportunity, I pressed my lips against his neck, relishing the shudder that ran through him, accompanied by a low sigh of pleasure. My hand lightly closed against his throat, keeping him in place as I continued to kiss upward, tracing the line of his jaw with eager lips.

"You're driving me insane," he growled, his voice thick with need. Grabbing me by the nape of my neck, he pulled me into a kiss.

As our bodies pressed together, he skillfully unclasped my bra, freeing my breasts to his eager touch. His mouth descended upon my right nipple, and as he sucked and nibbled, I couldn't help but grind against him with more force.

I tugged on the hairs at the back of his head, urging him closer, craving more of his touch. His fingers trailed down my abdomen, teasing the hem of my panties before boldly slipping beneath them.

I gasped as his cold fingers met my warm skin. "Fuck, Jake," I breathed out, my voice trembling with desire.

"Oh, my name sounds so good when you say it like that," he confessed, his fingers moving slowly against my clit. My head rested on his shoulder, and his fingers continued to explore my soaked folds, "Yeah, just like that, doing so well," he praised as he lightly brushed my entrance, slowly dipping his middle finger inside of me.

With a desperate urgency, I moved my hands to his sides, tugging at the belt loops of his jeans. "Off, off," I managed to say.

He nudged his hips forward, lowering his jeans and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out. I immediately took him in my hand, stroking him lightly as a pornographic moan escaped his lips.

His hand then moved my panties to the side, allowing me to guide him against my clit before lining him with my entrance. Slowly, I lowered myself on to him, feeling every inch of him stretching me as he filled me completely.

His right hand met the back of my neck once again, pulling me into a kiss, as his left cupped my ass with force, aiding me with the up and down movement of my hips.

God, you feel incredible," he groaned against my lips, his voice husky with desire.

With a breathless laugh, I whispered back, "You're not so bad yourself."

A playful chuckle escaped him "Always got something to say, don't you?" He teased, his hips rising to meet mine with eager intensity.

My head fell back, overcome with pleasure, as the familiar coil of ecstasy began to build in the depths of my stomach. "Fuck, don´t stop.". His movements remained steady, his hand reaching out to play with my clit, intensifying the pleasure coursing through my body. "God, Jake... it's... it's too much," I gasped, desperation evident in my voice as my hands clung to his shoulders and arms for support.

"Oh, I can't fucking last with you sounding like that," he admitted, letting his forehead rest against mine.

"Then don't," I whispered, my voice barely audible amidst the sounds of our heavy breathing and the pounding of flesh. His pace quickened, pushing me closer as I arched my back. "I´m cumming.. Oh.. Fuck"

A moan escaped his lips as he watched me with intensity, his eyes tracing every contortion of my face as pleasure surged through me. I felt the wave of bliss crash over me, my body trembling with the force of my release.

In that moment, I could tell he couldn't hold back any longer. "Do it," I urged, locking my gaze with his and giving him a reassuring look.

"You sure?" His eyes searched mine, seeking reassurance.

I nI nodded eagerly, feeling my body tremble as I sensed him pulsating inside of me. The sensation of him nearing his climax, his moans reverberating through the room, was intoxicating and overwhelming in the most delicious way imaginable. As he released into me, I let out a satisfied sigh, capturing his lips once again.

We remained intertwined, his arms wrapped around me protectively, as his cock still throbbed gently inside me. His fingers traced soothing patterns on the small of my back, and I nestled closer to him as his lips found their way to my forehead, planting a tender kiss.

"You know? I hate when you´re right," I whispered, my voice soft against his skin.

"About what in particular?" He chuckled.

I smiled against his neck, feeling a warmth spread through me. "About... this," I confessed, lifting my head slightly to meet his gaze. "That I'd been missing out."

"Well, lucky for you, Y/n, we still have plenty of time to catch up,"

--XX--

Tagg: Hi my loves, I took the liberty to tagg everyone who liked my post about writing smut for peralta - Hope you enjoy <3

@haikyuuhoee @1dilflover @Airu_wu @gingersnap126126 @Gingersnap @her5 @bellaabee @bestnottoask @Taylorswiftsboatinglicense @tortelliniturtle7 @sabage101 @izzyyyyy777 @dilflover-3 @yomamacrusty @Outsiderslover @vintagevickyy @spencerreidmyst3ry @ikea2-0 @jj170623 @icybluefox @sxphiarz @syrk @raven-kroe @longlostishmael22 @joonbum @angrygirlloudvoice-blog @mandarinmoons @apple-dilf-shake @readingblogsstuff @m1keyj @luciferdelivery @hunter-ameliaredstone @laciruelaa @iloveslashers @bellaaggg @reiderrambles @strapsforyoonie @spencerreidmyst3ry

[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 | ☀️

[aboutcustardcreams]

Wake up call

Agathario x reader

Another scene I'm deeply in love with is Agatha and Rio's fight happening in the first episode. So, here it is what would happen with r joining it.

pt. 2

Rio leaned closer to Agatha with a lopsided grin, “I’ve missed you,” she purred, tracing her former lover’s jawline with the curved blade in her hand. 

Agatha’s chest rose and fell, an expression of pure hatred flashed upon her blue eyes, mingled with a hint of something else, mabe fear. “I hate you.”

Rio lolled her head back and laughed bitterly, “course, you do.” 

The day you and Agatha vowed to never see her face anymore, her heart shattered until nothing was left of it. But she was Lady Death, meaning that no matter what you wanted, someday your paths would cross again and that’s what kept her going. 

You had just parked in the driveway, when an explosion coming from inside the house alerted you. On your way back from the grocery store, your memories came back one by one, and you almost hit a pedestrian or two at the realization that you and Agatha had been trapped under a spell for about three years. And now that you were ‘awake’, you were pretty sure she was too. You quickly got out of the car and stepped inside, silently praying that Agatha was okay. 

Last person you thought you’d see was Rio. 

“Drop the dagger now,” your voice came out sharp and dangerous. 

Both witches snapped their heads towards you. Your eyes locked with Agatha’s first. She breathed a sigh of relief at your sight, her blue orbs filled with all sorts of thoughts. 

“Hello, mi nena,” Rio quipped, tone softening at the sight of you. “Glad you’re awake too. Agatha and I were just.. catching up, right?”

You took a step closer, keeping your eyes on Rio. “I see– rude of you to start without me,” there was a hint of sarcasm in your voice, that both witches grasped. “Now, don’t make me repeat myself, you know I hate it.” 

“Uhm, I don’t know.” Instead of listening to you, Rio pushed the blade deeper against Agatha. The witch struggled to keep the blade at distance, trembling while doing so. 

Your hands turned into fists, a gust of wind rose up around you. Objects started levitating, the chandelier in the lounge room swayed and Agatha’s lips curled upwards, happy to realize your powers were still part of you. 

The vibrancy of your magic brought back all sorts of memories of the time you three spent together. “Looks like our sweet girl over there is in control of her powers. How does it feel, Agatha?” Rio asked in a mocking tone. “Don’t you resent her like you resent me?” 

The purple witch was quick to shake her head, scoffing to herself at the same time. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

When she looked at you, she saw one of the most incredible witches she ever had the pleasure to meet.

“You’re nothing like her.”

Rio let out a whiny sound, “why does she get special treatment and I don’t, huh?”

In the meantime, your irises turned the same color of your magic, a bright hue of silver and enveloped your entire body as well. 

“She did everything she could, while you–” she winced when the tip of the dagger pressed further against her skin. “What, huh? What are you blaming me for? I’m the natural order of all the things baby, and you know it. You always knew it!” 

When she pushed the blade further closer to her skin,  Agatha’s grip on Rio’s wrists loosened and the dagger scraped her. While Rio grinned at the sight of Agatha’s blood flowing so deliciously from her collarbone to her chestline, you levitated from the floor and your palms opened wide, exploding with your magic. 

“You’re nothing!” 

Rio let out a strangled yelp, as her body was thrown on the other side of the corridor. Agatha let out a sigh of relief, mouthing a fragile thank you in your direction as you rushed towards her. You didn’t say anything at first and simply hugged her, your heart thumping in your chest at incredible speed. 

“Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head, but you knew better. While that small cut wasn’t anything serious, you knew the pain in her heart was greater. You pressed your lips together, giving her a skeptical look. With a flick of your finger, you healed the wound on her skin,  and for some reason, it made Agatha feel even worse, but she didn’t say anything to you. 

Rio pulled herself up, stretching both arms and legs, “Ahw, did she make it better?” 

Agatha growled, fingers wiggling as if she could actually summon magic. 

You immediately stood in front of her, “don’t come any closer,” you warned her. 

The Green Witch hummed and her brows knitted in a frown, “where did I see this scene before?”

You swallowed thickly at the painful memories she was able to bring back with such ease. You had so many questions going on inside your head, the most important would probably be, why? Why the betrayal, why the lies, why the pain? 

“Cut the crap, Rio,” Agatha snapped, worrying about your sudden discomfort, “what do you want?”

She fake pouted at her angry tone, “you used to be much nicer to me,” with the tip of the blade, she moved a strand of hair from her face. And when you scoffed, a dark shadow passed through her eyes, “I’m just missing the old days. I want you back– in a way or another, meaning that if I have to kill you both, I will,” she added the last part with a strange look in her eyes. Almost hysterical. You only had a couple of seconds to react. Rio’s dagger flew in your direction, missing you and Agatha by a nose, as you shoved her to the side, shielding her with your body. 

Agatha grunted at the sound of Rio’s giggles, “I’m gonna kill her.” 

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “it’s not possible, unfortunately.” 

Propping yourself up, you helped Agatha do the same. 

While doing so, you spotted the dagger behind you. You pointed at it to Agatha with a nod of your head. She was closer to the weapon so she lunged forward to grab it. Rio ignored her and focused on you. She gave you little time to anticipate her move and with a yelp she sprung forward, fuelled by her magic. Before you knew it, her fingers tightened around your neck and squeezed. 

Her head lolled to the side, and watched you with a mixture of nostalgia and admiration, “naughty, naughty–”

“Let her go!” Before Agatha could even make an attempt to stab Lady Death on the shoulder, Rio sent her flying in the lounge room, her back hitting a cabinet that after the impact, crashed on top of her.  

Your eyes snapped open, as you squirmed but to no avail, “Agatha!” 

“Do you remember pain, my love?”

“I never stopped feeling it since the day you betrayed us.”

You still resented her for the things she did. And you probably would for the rest of your life. Her face dimmed and her lips pursed into a grimace; the grip around your neck loosened, but she didn’t let go. Was that disappointment settling in her chest? 

“You’re so clueless about the things I did for you.” 

Tears pricked at your eyes, but despite them a choked chuckle slipped from your lips. She did nothing for you, nor for Agatha and even less for Nicky. She only took, betrayed your trust and hurt you in the most inexplicable way. 

“All you did was make things worse.”

Rio snarled at your accusation,“you knew that messing with the Fates wasn’t without consequences!” 

Your answer came out in a faint, yet determined whisper, “you were the one to send the Furies my way.” 

In the meantime, Agatha straightened herself out, wincing at the pain in her arms, as shreds of glass cut through her skin. She scanned the surroundings  in search of something, anything that could be used against Rio. While her eyes landed on a wooden tray, Rio blasted you against the wall behind you with full demoniac force, her voice distorted as well, sounding deeper and animalistic, “I had no other choice!”

Agatha mentally screamed at the chunks of plaster coming down at you. 

You whimpered, feeling Rio’s body towering over yours, “sorry, did it tickle too much?” 

Despite the dizziness, you found the sassiness to roll your shoulders, “No.” With the corner of your eye, you spotted Agatha coming your way, holding something in her hands. Realizing what it was made you almost chuckle. “But I bet this will.” 

Before Rio could ask you what you meant, the purple witch hit the back of her head with an angry growl and a deadly stare in the eye.  

“Dark Mother, I’m so sick of her,” she muttered, glancing back at you. 

You chuckled briefly, before erupting into a fit of coughs. Your throat felt on fire because of Rio. You were pretty sure it was bruising already for how much she squeezed. Agatha kneeled in front of you, her fingers hovering over your neck, but barely touching it, for fear of causing you extra pain,  “I’m sorry about–” 

“Don’t. The ‘s’ word isn’t allowed,” you chided her softly. She nibbled the inside of her cheek, blinking back the tears from her eyes. She hated feeling powerless, even more now considering you could really use some of her purple as backup.

Noticing the veil of sadness in her eyes, you tried to cheer her up, giving her a playful nudge, “what you did was rather hot by the way.” 

She snorted out a laugh, “are you turned on, love?” 

A playful smirk tugged at your lips, “maybe.”

She pulled you closer, tugging at the fabric of your blouse. Her forehead adhered against yours and you closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to inhale her sweet. Her hand ran from your collarbone up to your chin, her thumb gently grazed your bottom lip, pushing it down and making you smile. When you reopened your eyes, you took her hand in yours, and intertwined your fingers together in the attempt to brush aside all the worries you spotted in her eyes. 

Rio let out a frustrated growl, “Good job, Agatha. I’m impressed. A little higher and that would have really hurt.” 

On instinct, you tried to move Agatha behind you, but she resisted, making you frown. 

“Ugh!” Rio swept her tongue over her lips, “the way she would throw herself in Hell for you really warms my heart.” 

You said nothing because it was true. You would do the craziest things for her, just like you did for Nicky. 

Agatha smacked her lips, almost laughing in her face. “Please, you don’t have a heart.” 

Rio locked eyes with her, and for a moment you spotted a veil of hurt in her brown orbs. “Yes, I do,” she argued, before dropping her voice into a softer murmur, “it’s black and it beats for both of you.”

Agatha said nothing, while you couldn’t bring yourself to be quiet after that colossal lie, “you’re pathetic.”

Her gaze narrowed towards you; a flash of fury dimmed her features. “Madness turned you into a real brat. Perhaps you fancy another ride?” 

You swallowed thickly and turned stiff. Those words stung painfully, there was no point in hiding it. You hated how easily she could bring back the memories of your trauma, making you feel as if you were reviving it all over again. 

A single tear slipped from your eye, but you were quick to wipe it. Agatha’s hand found yours and squeezed; she felt your magic tickling her skin, it was mirroring your emotions and she knew it would burst soon. 

“You’re a monster,” Agatha’s voice came out in hiss. 

Then it happened. You let go of Agatha’s hand and tackled Rio on the floor. Her back hit the ground with force, and despite that, she laughed. You pinned her wrists above her head, digging your fingernails into her skin, wishing to hurt, to tear the skin apart, and make her feel even an ounce of the pain you endured because of her. 

Agatha’s eyes widened both in shock and surprise at your outburst. 

“My, my, aren’t you sexy when you’re mad?”

You smacked her across the face. Hard. 

“Woah, okay girl–”, she conceded, calling a truce, “tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to get the fuck out of my life.” 

Rio lifted her chin up, a dark chuckle escaped her lips, “All roads lead to me, mi nena. Whether you like it or not, you’ll die. Why can’t we speed up the process?” 

“You’re not allowed to kill us,” your voice dropped in an icy growl. 

“I second that,” Agatha quipped. 

Rio scoffed amusedly, “are you sure about that?” Before you could respond with another sassy remark, she headbutted you straight on the nose. You fell to the side, letting go of Rio’s wrists and allowing her to flee from your grasp. You groaned and cursed under your breath, when she kicked your side with the boot of her shoe. Agatha took you in her arms, as quickly as she could, then started crawling backwards with you firmly pressed against her chest, “you okay?” 

“Fine,” you croaked out, in annoyance. 

By the look on your bloody face, she realized you’d very well use a break. 

But Rio seemed to have other ideas, the knife was back in her hand as she approached you. 

“Wait, just wait a damn second–” Agatha held out a hand towards the Green Witch, while the other remained wrapped around your underarms. 

Rio hummed and traced the tip of the blade with her fingertips. 

“This isn’t what you want. Plus, I don’t have any powers so it’s not exactly a fair fight, is it?” She gave a nervous chuckle, hoping her words would buy you some time to recover. “Don’t you want us at our best?” 

Rio grinned, with a devilish light in her eyes, “Horizontal, in  a grave?”

“Not exactly,” she muttered, “I mean, in full control of our powers. Just let me get my purple back, let her recover and if you really want to– come back and find us.”

Your breath hitched, it was hard to breathe properly with the blood clogging your nostrils. You summoned your magic, and despite being a tad weaker, you knew it could heal you if given proper time. 

“Why don’t you take mine?” Rio’s suggestion made your stomach lurch. 

“That’s cute,” Agatha mused. “But you know that would kill me.”

“Then what about hers?” 

It didn’t seem like a terrible idea to you. But Agatha’s answer was categorical, “No.” 

You looked up at her, noticing the hesitation in her features. Maybe fear too. Truth was, she didn’t trust herself to do such a thing, not to you. You knew she found immense pleasure in sucking away powers from witches, she knew it was wrong, and for years the only reason why she did that was to keep Nicky alive. That’s the reason why you helped her do it. As a mother you could back up from your responsibilities and as a witch, you learned the hard way that in order to survive you had to do all sorts of things. 

There was something about your magic that scared Agatha. You were the only necromancer witch she ever crossed paths with, so she wasn’t sure she would be able to pull away from you, once she got a taste of your forbidden  magic.

Rio pursed her lips in a grimace, “you’re such a coward.”

“She isn’t,” you argued back. 

When Rio finally put the dagger down, both you and Agatha frowned in confusion. “Show me, then. Blast her. Help her restore her purple.” 

“We aren’t doing this, Rio,” Agatha insisted rather adamantly. 

“I’d think about it before making a decision, my love,” Rio leaned closer, her voice soft and eerily calm. “You see, I'm not the only one that wishes you dead. I’d expect guests at sundown.”

You frowned at her words, “who do you mean?”  

Rio’s eyes flashed with excitement. “The worst of them. The Salem Seven.” 

For a moment both you and Agatha fell quiet. You felt Agatha turn still behind you, and your heart ached for her. You turned to face her, as the grip around your middle loosened. 

“Hey, I’m here, Agatha,” your voice came out both firm and tender. “It’s going to be alright”

Rio laughed softly at that. She shoved your shoulder in a playful way, “I have a feeling we will meet again, very soon.”

She paused where once it stood the front door, “Hasta luego,” she waved her fingers before stepping out of the house. 

You considered Rio’s words, and as much as you wished to find another solution, there wasn’t really another way to restore Agatha’s powers, especially not in such a short time. 

“Maybe–”

“Don’t,” she cut you off, sharply. 

You raised your hands defensively, “Fine, sorry. But I think we should at least think about it.”

When she didn’t respond, you decided to give her a moment. Pushing yourself up, your eyes darted to the mess around you. There were pieces of furniture pretty much everywhere, shreds of glass, plates and cutlery and even sections of ripped wallpaper, along with chunks of plasters, “this is not how I imagined to spend this Friday…” you hoped your little joke would put a smile on Agatha’s face, but she remained motionless. 

Agatha started to regret having woken up from Wanda’s spell. Now not only was she awake, but she had no power, the Salem Seven and Rio wanted her dead, her house was falling to pieces, and on top of that, you were in potential danger because of her. The only reason why she survived the loss of Nicky was because of you. But if she lost you too…

She clenched her eyes and took a deep breath, refusing to dwell in such thoughts. 

“Uhm, Agatha?” You were wrong to think nothing else could surprise you that day. 

She made a hum sound, finally getting on her feet, face turned towards you. 

“Why is there a gagged boy in our wardrobe?”

[ceceslibrary]

CECE'S FIC RECS

BTS

Updated: April 24th, 2024

Fic Rec list 2

Namjoon

TRY AGAIN | jiminscockr1ng

Tonight We're Dancing | unique-high

"Cry for me" | prettyprincejk

Cleaning Day | gojosnympho

About Love | jjkeverlast

Closer | joon4eva

Between the pages | hwanghyunjinenthusiast

Cross Your Mind | dearlyjoonie

Lifeline | downbad4yoongi

Late Night Texting | hobistyles

My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold | daechwitatamic

Sundress | cheolhub

Doom boy | soft4gguk

Sexy Feeling | btsrunmylife

My Goddess | purpleyoonn

Quid Pro Quo | sopejinsunflower

Dream Girl | nmjoon-n

Rival Academia | aseaofyoongi

Cat and Mouse | aaagustd

Too sweet | teenytinyjimin

Jin

Payment Plan | trivia-yandere

Oh Baby | k00sblogger

Yoongi

Angel | sailoryooons

So it Goes | prodagustd

A New Rhythm | sluttywoozi

Three tangerines | kithtaehyung

Wife | mggsv

Jhope

"Missed you." | dilfhoseokie

Daisies | jeonaachu

Jimin

Disease | piedinthepiper

Camping | swanlakebaby

Missing You | swanlakebaby

My girl | k00sblogger

Daddy's Home | lovecoree

Taehyung

His Special Secret | kooktrash

Craving You | hoseokhasmyheartxx

The End is You and I | yonkimink

Distraction | lovecoree

Jungkook

Malibu | joonberriess

Seven | joonberriess

All mine | tanniefm

Side B!tch...? | bubbbii

Sunkissin' | peachyjeonss

Wild Thoughts | sxtaep

On and Off | gashinabts

The Broken Vow | lleldey

Blackout | jjungxkook

Long Way Home | sparklingchim

Over The Odds | jungk0oksthighs

Between Roommates | kooktrash

Shut Up and Kiss Me | ahgasegotarmy116

I miss you, I'm sorry | teenytinyjimin

Let me take care of you | ahgasegotarmy116

Nothing Serious | kooqitas

OT7/Multiple Members

Boyfriend for Hire | remedyx

All Bite, No Bark | spiderlilyserendipity

3 strikes | mapofthesea

Wolves in Sheep's Clothing | peachypinkgloss

Agains The Odds | jungk0oksthighs

WWE

Jey Uso

White Lies | tribalhoochie

We Ain't Going to Bed Angry | rays-hunter01

She My Bestfriend, Yeah We Ain't a Couple | kyleoreillylover

Mr. Right Now | femdisa

Massage. | miyuhpapayuh

Chasin' | southerngirl41

Warm | msbigredmachine

This is Cinema | romanreignseater

Baecation | tribalhoochie

Jimmy Uso

I Hate You Too | femdisa

Dressing Room. | miyuhpapayuh

Beauty Calls | aintnorainbows

Pull Up | harmshake

It's A Scream, Baby | theninthwonder

Stay By My Side | aalyssah

Tension | visionarymode

Permission | theninthwonder

Can you focus on me? | pr0wlerpunk

Roman Reigns

Lingerie Fun | strawberry-milku

Can't Handle It | visionarymode

Under His Spell | southerngirl41

Forgotten Kisses | uceyreiignss

Michael B. Jordan/Erik Killmonger

I get high, high, high | cocoa-puffs

Just Friends | cocoa-puffs

Freshout | cocoa-puffs

Domesticity | cocoa-puffs

In the Morning | nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Office Bae Series pt. 1, pt. 2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6 | nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Neighbors to Lovers pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4| nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[youraverageaemondsimp]

A chance for salvation. // WitchHunter!Aemond Targaryen x Witch!Reader

Halloween Special 🎃

DD:DNE ; DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.

Summary: being a witch, there was someone who you've avoided after the rise of witch hunts, Aemond Targaryen who was the leader of the hunt, you thought you had avoided him successfully until— well, he catches you.

WARNINGS: NONCON/DUBCON, dark fic, mdni, smut, dark romance, enemies to lovers(?), highly religious themes (faith of the seven), slight misogyny, hexing kinda, description of witch hunts and trials, tiddy sucking, unprotected p in v sex, dacryphilia(?), body betrayal, mind betrayal, breeding kink, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, reader is helpless, aemond is narcissistic as fuck, asshole aemond, hatred against witches. + not proofread.

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this fic contains dark themes and content, if you find it uncomfortable please just scroll away instead of dwelling on this, please do not take the warnings lightly if you cannot stomach it, do not read it, do not interact. With that said, it's been a while since I properly sat down to write and finish a fic so it's a little rusty, don't mind it <3 // divider credits @cafekitsune

The smell of burning flesh penetrated your nose as you scrunched up your face in disgust watching the woman before you burn at stake, her agonising screams echoing throughout the town centre.

“THE WITCH SHALL BURN, THE WITCH SHALL BURN” They all chanted while you stood on the sidelines watching the entire scene take place.

You stared at the man that stood by the burning woman, his posture tall and calm, he didn't react nor did he attempt to put out the fire. Why would he? He was the one that set her ablaze in the first place.

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you watched him, he had gotten another witch, he was very good at hunting them down. A skilled witch hunter one might say.

You knew who he was, why wouldn't you? The witches had to be on the lookout from him, not wishing to cross paths. He might be blind in one eye but he has a very sharp eye, catching witches with just one look.

He was none other than the King's second son, Aemond Targaryen.

For some odd reason, he was out on a mission to hunt down all the witches as they had been spreading very fast, causing havoc and chaos, but he failed to understand one thing.

There were both good witches and bad ones.

It didn't matter to him who were who, you just had to be under the suspicion that you were a witch, you'd be put on trial immediately and once proven guilty, you'd be burnt at the stake.

The once human form began to fall apart on the stake like a melted wax figure, Aemond stood there with a stoic expression before he came down.

“Poor woman,” You heard a woman standing beside you say and you look at her, she was the daughter of a local baker “But she deserved it, she was a witch after all.” She snickered cruelly and you felt nothing but intense disgust towards the woman.

Maybe you'll hex her later onwards, you hated scums like this, the ones who thought they were doing better for the human race, while doing quite the opposite.

You left the scene immediately, travelling back to your cabin that was located deep in the woods before shutting the door tightly and going to the shrine you've set up in your house, praying to the forsaken god to give you power and to protect you from these creatures.

You placed the fabric of the dress torn from the woman who encouraged and celebrated the death of a witch onto a doll before closing your eyes and placing a curse upon her. You pick up a candle.

“Ye will not be able to consume food without consequences. Ye will suffer sickness for a month until you are cured.” You whisper into the ears of the doll circling the doll in the wax that was dripping from the candle before blowing the candle out.

It was the next day, your daily routine consisted of casting spells and creating healing potions for your sickly younger brother that lived in the village, you woke up and grabbed the potion in the vial, putting it in your bag before venturing out into the woods and out to where the civilians lived.

You decided to visit the bakery, to see how the woman is doing, it was surprising to find it closed as you probably knew the reason. The family must be worried sick for their daughter. You shrugged it off before going to the house your brother lived in, you knocked on the door to be greeted by your mother who gave you a hug before she invited you in.

You saw your younger brother, still laying in bed but looking more alive than before. “It's been weeks since you visited us ya know? But your brother has been recovering slowly.” Your mother speaks out and you nod, “The work at the castle is tough, tending to all the sick ones is tiring that I merely have time to visit, they don't give me any time for myself.” You lie. The reason why you hadn't been visiting them was because you were trying to hide from Aemond Targaryen's eye. To avoid it so you don't have the same fate as the other witches.

Your family doesn't know you practise witchcraft either, they believe that you study medicine and make healing nectars which work really well. You give the vial to your mother before sitting down alongside with her, she immediately dilutes it with water before feeding your brother.

“Have you heard? About the witch hunts lately?” You stiffen at the mention of the hunt, “I have heard, Aemond Targaryen, The prince is going around eradicating all the accused.” You reply and your mother shakes her head, “He's humiliating them by burning them alive at the centre of the town each week, I'm surprised at how many women he's catching.” She continues to talk about the hunt which makes you anxious, but just nod along.

You spend some time at your mother's before saying your goodbyes and leaving home, you've decided to stop by a small shop on the way to grab something to eat, you smile at the woman after you've purchased bread and some jam. You carefully hold them in your arms before you continue on your way towards your house.

It seemed as though fate had other plans for you when you reach your house and see a horse waiting outside with a man with platinum blonde hair standing outside. Your eyes widen at realisation.

Aemond Targaryen.

Before you could hide, he looked in your direction, his face stoic and blank. “Do you live here?” He asks, his voice monotone but underlace with malice. You gulp before nodding and making your way near him. “Y-yes my prince, why?” you reply, he just hums looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“There seems to be activity of a witch here, may I look inside?” He questions raising an eyebrow, you gulp knowing that if you refuse he'd force himself in anyway, but you can't comply either for there is a shrine of the forsaken inside.

“I-i'm afraid it's a little dirty, I can't allow a prince like you to step inside such a dirty place, shall I clean it up?” You ask, you know how stupid you sound but you'd be willing to try before you are sent to your own death.

He scoffs, “So you can clean your evidence of witchcraft? Do not anger me further woman, open the door now before I have to commit to violence.” He grits his teeth and you nod immediately going over to the door and opening it. He steps inside.

You close your eyes, accepting the end of your life, knowing now he'd just apprehend you and take you to the town centre to burn you. He smirks as the evidence of your activity is revealed, your house is donned in herbs and potions with a big shrine of the forsaken god in between.

“Will you burn me now?” You ask him, looking down at your feet not having the courage to look up at him but he remains silent. Your life is literally at stake right now.

“You prefer to be burned alive or stabbed to death?” He asks, drawing his sword out and you visibly flinch, “Or rather, beg for mercy?” He finishes his question staring down at your form and you close your eyes.

“You won't spare me even if I did, will you?” You didn't know where your boldness came from, asking him such a question.

You yelp when you feel him grab your hair and tilt your head to make you look at him, you look directly into his eye with a slight expression of defiance and he just smiles cruelly. “You're right, I won't.” He chuckles, his grip on your hair becoming tighter; making you wince, his nails digging into your scalp.

“I've had my eye on you for a while, you've been avoiding me.” He reveals and you stare at him wide eyed, “You thought I would not notice? That's how you witches give yourselves away, by avoiding me. If you weren't guilty of a crime, you'd not be afraid to face me.” He mutters. “I've only spared you this long because I knew of your family, a younger brother who is bedridden, a mother who relies on you, you've got responsibilities.” He reveals everything he's learned of you leaving you trembling and terrified, wondering how exactly he found all of this out.

“I have my ways, I indeed have a keen eye.” He answers, noticing your surprised expression. His breath fans your face as he pulls you closer, his grip further tightening in your hair which makes you reflexively reach out your hands towards his, trying to pry his hands off. Tears well up in your eyes knowing that you'd die soon.

“You're an odd witch.” He raises an eyebrow, “Not pleading me for mercy, ready to accept your death? I do not like it.” He tuts. “I do think you have a chance for salvation though, you're not as bad as the other witches or too deep in the craft.” He suddenly lets go of your hair causing you to stumble back.

He puts his sword back in the sheath, his eye takes in your features trailing down your body stopping at the cleavage that was slightly exposed before he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Pretty young too.” He comes nearer, kicking the door shut, like a predator stalking its prey, you try to run but he's quick— grabbing you by your waist and pushing you backwards, causing you to fall down. He gets on top of you, pinning your hands with his hand above your head as he straddles your waist.

“I told you, you can be saved, yet it seems like you want to die.” He speaks annoyed by your attempt at escaping. “Confess your faults and beg for forgiveness, you'll be saved. I won't hurt you.” He lies through his teeth. “P-please let me go—” You beg, your body shaking with the amount of adrenaline surging through your body.

He rolls his eye, using his other hand to grab your throat, choking you harshly, cutting off your air supply. You struggle beneath him, writhing your body as you try to escape his grip.

“Beg for forgiveness woman, I never give any witch a chance to live, you should consider yourself of utmost luck.” He tightens his grip on your throat further making you gasp for air.

With your survival instincts kicking in you gasp before choking out a sentence of forgiveness which makes him immediately let go of your throat. “What did you say?” He asks and you take a gasp for air before uttering the same words again. “F-forgive me, I am sorry.” You plead, making his lips contort into a winning smile.

You watch as he breathes heavily, enjoying the power he holds over you, “Beg, beg harder, plead to me, tell me that you're sorry, maybe then the Gods will forgive you.” He leans down whispering in your ear. You shiver in fear before you do as he says. “I- I am sorry, forgive me, I deeply regret my actions—.”

“Take my name.” He interrupts and you furrow your brows “My prince i—” you begin, “No, no, no. My name.” He cuts you off once again staring at you with a wild eye. You take a deep breath. “I am sorry Aemond, forgive me, I repent my actions.” You go on again and his expression changes to that of a pleased one.

Things fall silent between you both after you begged for forgiveness until he let goes of your hands before getting off your body. You sit up right as he stands up, towering over your body.

“On your knees.” He commands and you look at him confused before you notice the visible bulge in his breeches. You stare up at him wide eyed, knowing where this is going.

“You don't think that you'd be forgiven this easily? I'd have to cleanse your body, your mouth that has chanted prayers to your God, get on your knees and close your eyes. Now.” He threatens you, grabbing his sword which makes you immediately obey. You do as he says, getting on your knees and closing your eyes.

You could hear the shuffle of his clothes before a thud of clothes falling down, then you felt it, something pressed up against your lips, it was wet. “Open your mouth,” He grumbles but you hesitate which makes him forcefully open your mouth by himself. Before you could react; he shoves his cock inside your mouth.

You open your eyes, staring at him in terror as he looks at you with a sadistic expression, “Bite and I'll cut your head off.” He grits his teeth before he grabs your hand and shoves his cock further into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Drool leaks from your mouth, dripping down your chin and neck as he thrusts inside your mouth, using your hair as leverage as he continues his assault in your mouth. Tears stream down your cheek, as you blink them away hoping not to upset him.

He closes his eyes enjoying the pleasure of fucking your mouth, ramming his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace— his balls slapping against your chin. You hold onto his thighs for balance, gripping them tightly, trying to resist his motion but it only further motivates him to gain control.

“Fuck— I'm gonna finish. Keep your mouth wide open.” He pulls out his cock, using his fist to finish himself off. His seed spills on your face and some of it goes into your mouth. “Swallow, it will cleanse you.” He utters expecting you to swallow, and you do; not wanting to anger him.

You hoped that this was the end, that he'd be done with this alone. “Lay on the ground, legs spread.” The command shatters your hope and you stare up at him, shaking your head no.

This angers him, and he forces you down, pushing you hard against the floor, laying you down while grabbing your legs and spreading your legs after hiking your skirt up.

“P-please my prince! Anything but this!” You cry out, pushing against him as he settles himself between your legs. “I need to cleanse you from the inside out, woman. This is very much required.” He grunts, keeping your legs forced open as he lines up his cock against your entrance.

Your eyes widen as you feel him prodding your entrance, before he gently pushes himself, he marvels at the sight of your blood leaking onto his dick “Your maidenhead is still intact? Do you witches take a vow for chastity like Septa's do too?” He mocks before pushing further in.

Your hands shoot up to his shoulders, gripping him tightly while you put in an effort to push him away, yet all of it is deemed futile when he doesn't budge an inch. He lets go of your leg before balancing himself on his arms placed on your sides as he just as quickly moves them to rip off your bodice, revealing your mounds of flesh.

He wastes no time before groping them with his hands, you shriek as he twists and plays with your nipple, leaning in to take your teat into his mouth; all while simultaneously pushing himself gently inside your cunt.

He suckles on your nipple, grazing it with his teeth and swirling his tongue around it, you couldn't help but feel ashamed as you looked at the sight.

The prince of the realm suckling away on your tits.

This sent a shot of thunder down your spine making heat pool between your legs, were you seriously getting aroused by this? You felt guilty as your own body betrayed you, welcoming the intruder into your body by providing the necessary needs.

Aemond pulls away from your breast before focusing on the other one, giving it the same attention as he did to the one before, one of his hands slowly trails down the outline of your waist to your belly before it finds itselfs cupping your heat before he further reaches down to where you both were attached.

He lets out a soft moan of approval when he finds that you're wet; pulling the slick up to where you clitoris is before he rubs small circles upon it. “Mhm, you're so fucking wet down there.” He mutters against your nipple, making you feel even more embarrassed.

Aemond lets out an audible moan when he feels you clench around him, he's now settled in cosily inside you, he lifts himself up and positions himself upright, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders before he begins to move inward and outward, slowly thrusting into you.

Your body adjusts to his size quickly, coating his cock with the essence of its approval which makes him chuckle. He accelerates the pace, driving himself into you like an animal, rutting against you like a beast in heat.

You find yourself a moaning mess amongst all of this unwillingly, the way his cock penetrating your cunt felt way more pleasing than it should have, and his hand was working its magic on your clit.

“Fuck— you feel so fucking good, darling, I'm lucky to have spared you.” He growls as he increases his speed even more, the stretch of his cock felt so euphoric that you couldn't help but enjoy it. You knew your body has already betrayed you, now even your mind has become its accomplice.

“Oh- I'm gonna finish inside you, my witch, with it you'll be cleansed of your wrongdoings.” He groans, feeling himself near the edge, his hand rubs faster against your clit, determined to make you cum before he does, all the while he's ramming into your sweet spot.

“Aemond—!” Both the stimulation cause a sudden burst of pleasure to explode in your body, its impact being so heavy that you moaned out his name involuntarily which ended up further pleasing him.

He comes to a sudden halt as he moans loudly, spurting his seed inside you; painting your walls white. He rides his orgasm out before completely pulling out and admiring the scene before him.

You were a panting mess with his seed leaking out of you, dripping down onto the wooden floor as you look dishevelled, your clothes are torn up and hair all messed up. You breathe heavily, processing what just happened.

“Do not waste my seed witch, it will cleanse you from in and out after it takes root in your womb.” Those words make your eyes widen at the implication and you slowly gaze upon him in shock as he puts on his pants back before lifting you off the ground.

He grabs your cloak from the nearby hanger and covers your body with it and soon he lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulders. “W-what are you doing?!” You yell at him as he takes you out of your house before throwing you onto his horse, forcing you to sit on it.

“Oh my sweet witch, you didn't think I was done with you did you? I'm taking you back to the castle, you're going to carry my children and give me heirs.” He says nonchalantly before he gets on the horse himself, holding the reins before taking off.

He had taken quite the liking to you more than he wanted to admit, he had no reason to spare you but he did anyway, perhaps witches weren't bad after all?

You survived but at what cost?

That's all you could think about as you leaned against his chest, the air hitting your face and blowing through your hair as he was taking you to the castle.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[pin-k-ink]

PARAMOUR ⋆✦⋆ hoshina soshiro

synopsis ➸ hoshina is used to getting strange messages as a well-known member of the defense force, but a sexy photo from a random number really catches him off guard. what starts as something casual soon becomes an obsession

tags ➸ strangers to lovers, male mastúrbation, semi-public sèx, dirty talking, bíting, rough séx, manhandling, fingêring, sqùirting, cunnìlingus, overstimúlation, unprotected sèx, multiple orgàsms, spánking, anàl fingèring, hair pulling, slight asphýxiation

wc ➸ 9.1k

The deafening silence of the empty office pressed in on Soshiro from all sides like a smothering weight. He let out an audible groan, dropping his forehead into his upturned palm as boredom gnawed at his already frayed nerves.

Seriously, what fresh hell was this endless stack of paperwork even for?

He eyed the precarious towers of manila folders and disheveled reports littering his desk - each one housing enough dull legalese and procedural jumbo to induce the kind of brain-melting boredom even seasoned bureaucrats would balk at. Fuck, at this point he'd almost welcome a random kaiju attack in the middle of downtown just for the sheer distraction.

At least kicking some oversized lizard's ass would briefly scratch that primal itch simmering beneath his skin - the one begging for furious physicality, adrenaline, and the raw thrill of combat after weeks trapped behind this goddamn desk.

A humorless chuckle rumbled up from Soshiro's broad chest at the mere thought. Yeah, because getting flattened into a fine red mist by a rampaging leviathan's club-sized fists was definitely preferable to revisiting the third subsection of this month's payroll audit one more...fucking...time...

He squeezed his eyes shut and dragged both calloused palms down his stubble-lined jawline, barely restraining the urge to howl out his rising frustrations to the empty room. This shit was supposed to be a means to an end - a temporary detour strengthening his administrative credentials. Not some sadistic exercise in lobotomizing his last shreds of patience and morale with each passing hour.

Just as the thought crossed his mind to start browsing apartment listings for some remote mountain monastery, a sudden shrill beep sliced through the stifling silence like a thunderclap.

Soshiro jolted ramrod straight in his creaky desk chair, hand instinctively whipping out to snatch up his vibrating cellphone with the honed reflexes of a lifelong combatant. Eyes narrowed and hyper-focused, he scanned the bright display with a mixture of apprehension and deeply buried need for some, any external stimuli to crack this stagnant purgatory wide open.

12:37 AM...

So much for that hoped-for kaiju attack interruption. It seemed a mundane text notification would have to scratch that itch for now, no matter how minuscule. He swiped his thumb across the illuminated screen to reveal the sender—and felt his brows knitting together in a bemused frown.

Unknown Number?

Well, that was...unusual, to say the least. The mysterious digits blinked up at him innocently from the display, unlisted sender with zero context beyond those stark alphanumerics. No name, no identifying icon or thumbnail - absolutely no context whatsoever to indicate whether this could be a legitimate communique from JAKDF command or, at worst...spam?

Despite himself, Soshiro's curiosity spiked as he stared down the glowing text preview like a viper coiled to strike. With little else capturing his rapt attention at present, solving the mystery of this bizarre late-night message had suddenly become priority numero uno.

Besides, you never knew - maybe the universe was feeling generous and decided to toss him an intriguing lure during this agonizing dry spell after all? A tempting breadcrumb leading somewhere far more tantalizing than dredging through paperwork until his mind liquefied completely?

Curiosity rapidly snowballing into outright temptation, Soshiro swiped open the strange notification before rational thought could intervene. He barely registered the loading symbol flickering across the display precursor before—

"What the everloving fuck..."

The sibilant curse punched through his parted lips of its own accord as his vision abruptly swam with eddies of smooth, unmarred skin. Shapely feminine curves blurred together in tantalizing motion across the small screen - a tangled vista of exposed backs and sensual valleys utterly devoid of context beyond sheer gratuitous indecency.

That is, until Soshiro's stare honed in on the breathtaking centerpiece with visceral intensity and everything fell into deliriously filthy place.

There, brazenly showcased against the dimness of some half-glimpsed bedroom backdrop, the gloriously unobstructed view of a stranger's pert little ass packed into lacy crimson lingerie flooded his senses with molten lust. His mouth went instantly dry as the tantalizing hint of a matching negligee top riding up hinted at the feminine bounty lying just out of eyeshot overhead.

It wasn't just some indiscriminate thirst trap or porno clip blasted to his device...no, this was clearly a meticulously framed personal photo angled with lush, sensual deliberation for maximum impact. Soshiro found his hungry gaze skating down the indecent thigh gap and sleek inward curves with unstoppable greed despite himself.

Just as he gulped down a fresh inhale to reestablish equilibrium, the glowing words accompanying the scandalous photo finally swam back into focus at last.

Wait! Oh god, I'm so so so sorry! I didn't mean to send that to this number, please delete right aw—

Soshiro couldn't bite back his derisive snort quickly enough, already envisioning the startled panic blossoming on his mystery admirer's flushed features. How precious...his angelic little minx was simply begging for forgiveness after doling out such glorious sin completely unbidden, wasn't she?

Well, far be it for him to disappoint such a winsome supplicant desperate for penance. With a few deft taps, he fired off a response dripping with his signature insouciance and devil-may-care mirth. Can't rattle the cage too harshly too soon, after all...not when such interesting prey was already slipping into his web of its own delicious volition.

You know, most girls avoid sending nudes to randoms like the plague. I'd hate to think my night's entertainment was a total accident...

Send. Soshiro leaned back in his squeaky desk chair with a lewd grin painted across his rugged mug, shamelessly giving the scandalous photo one more unhurried perusal in all its provocative glory before clicking the save button.

His appreciation of feminine beauty aside, a delicious new game had fallen into Soshiro's lap - one he had no intention of dismissing so easily, not when the howling boredom had left him starved for stimulation. With a low hum of simmering relish, he swirled the scotch beside his overflowing inbox patiently, waiting to see how this encounter would unfurl.

The reply pinged through quicker than expected, those same mystery digits blinking across his lockscreen accompanied by a fresh message preview:

Well if you insist on holding me hostage... maybe return the favor so we're not total strangers? ;)

Soshiro couldn't quite suppress the rakish grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he swiped the notification open. So his coy little minx was feeling emboldened after the impromptu nude's unintended delivery, was she? Doubling down on baiting him into an equal display rather than beating a hasty retreat with her tail between her legs?

He had to give the girl credit - she definitely had a spark of audacity burning beneath all that stammered apology. A fact that only served to stoke the rising flames of Soshiro's prurient interest more intensely. After all, what was life without chasing down the occasional daring conquest to really get one's blood pumping hot and hard?

Rather than firing off a response, Soshiro leaned back in his desk chair and allowed his burning gaze to slowly wander back up toward the scandalous photo still illuminating his device's display. That flawless expanse of soft skin sculpted over those delicious feminine curves...the lush crimson lace cupping such an exquisite ass it practically deserved to be bronzed...god, he could perfectly picture palming every lush inch while grinding his throbbing—

A tiny grunt of arousal nearly punched free before he could bite the sound down. Soshiro shifted subtly, suddenly and keenly aware of the uncomfortable tightness rapidly straining against the front of his trousers with every heated exhalation.

Fucking hell...just the sight of this random thirst trap was already fully capable of reducing him to white-knuckled want like some overeager virgin again? What strange power did his mysterious online woman wield to already have him half-delirious without even so much as a face or name to attach those stunning assets to?

Still, even as his smirk deepened with rueful self-awareness, Soshiro found himself cradling his swiftly swelling cock through the fabric with his free palm. He shamelessly drank in the image anew, allowing the full effect of such raw, lush indecency to blossom in heated flushes across his skin.

Just watching that tempting bounce of ass cradled in those clinging crimson ribbons was enough to make pre-cum drool from his straining tip already. To reduce the normally unshakable monster hunter to such a pathetic, needy state pulsing with single-minded longing.

And wasn't that just the bitter irony of it all? After countless brushes with the most catastrophic behemoths to ever tread this earth, finally some faceless online tart had him untethered and howling for relief like a bitch in heat...all because she'd slipped him a tantalizing peek at her sweet little body wrapped up in silk and sin with no thought beyond teasing him mindless, surely.

Well...two could play at that particular game of torment, couldn't they? Because Soshiro wasn't one to leave any challenge unanswered once the gauntlet of temptation was thrown...no matter how salacious the battlefield.

With a few decisive swipes of his thumb, he typed out a reply already dripping with dark promise:

Careful now...you don't want to go whetting a strange man's appetite without being fully prepared for the consequences, little one. Why don't you keep those pretty pics coming and we'll see if you're entertaining enough to earn your peek later...?

Soshiro could only imagine the scandalized shiver rippling down his anonymous admirer's spine at his blatant disregard for propriety. Could picture the hunger dawning behind those wide, naive eyes as she realized this hunt had found its predator ready to prowl regardless of innocence or intent.

Grinning like the wolf he was, Soshiro fired off the challenge before sliding his free hand down to fully unfasten his belt buckle. The telltale hiss of leather parting and metal clanking punctuated the sudden silence like a thunderclap. He didn't even try to stifle the groan of relief surging through him as he popped his swollen cock free of its confines.

God, the mere anticipation of watching his little mystery slut send even more scandalous pictures had him painfully rigid...aching with the sheer need to thrust into something warm and wet and tight. Something that would milk his heavy cock for all it was worth until he exploded into ecstatic release and stained that perfect skin with his filthy, sticky claim.

Shameless, depraved fantasies aside, Soshiro knew it was far more satisfying to draw this little game out with slow, calculated precision. To make his unknown admirer dance in just the right way before offering the ultimate reward of a face and name to put behind those tempting curves and sinful lingerie.

Besides, a little patience would make the eventual payoff all the more savory, wouldn't it?

The rhythmic tapping of Soshiro's pen ricocheted off the office walls with maddening consistency once more, each percussive beat drilling deeper into his skull. He squinted down at the seemingly endless cascade of forms and files proliferating across his desk in fresh waves - the mere sight enough to rekindle that special breed of existential torture reserved solely for bureaucratic busywork.

At least this time around, a delicious new distraction kindled in the back of his mind like the cherry-red ember of a cigarette glowing defiant in the gloom.

His mystery online admirer had fallen conspicuously silent since their heated exchange the previous evening. No response to his boldly suggestive demand for further entertainment, no follow-up photos teasing the identity behind that world-class ass shot seared into the backs of his eyelids whenever they drifted shut.

Still, the blessed anticipation of further correspondence made each in terminable hour hunched over these godforsaken requisitions just a little more bearable. The potential for some wicked mischief to unravel amidst the tedium sat there like a baited hook, only needing to be set and reeled with the right provocation...

A wry grin tugged at the corner of Soshiro's mouth as the notion solidified. Why not test those tantalizing waters and see if his conquest could be lured out from whatever shadows she currently stalked? Give the poor girl's nerves one more tweak to see if sparks flew in either direction again?

With a few deft strides across his cramped office quarters, Soshiro freed his cellphone from where it rested on the windowsill and thumbed open the strangers' thread without preamble. The suggestive photo she'd teased him with the night before winked up at him from the display impishly, daring him to indulge in another lascivious perusal and rekindle those delicious embers of want.

Smirking despite himself, Soshiro wasted no time in firing off a barb of his own in retaliation:

You know, a guy could start feeling insecure when his favorite anonymous admirer deprives him of their...artistic talents for so long at a time. Figured you just got cold feet about properly entertaining me again later tonight?

He punctuated the deliberate provocation with a few choice emojis - tongue poked out in saucy challenge beside the peach icon for good measure. Let the girl chew on the not-so-subtle reminders of what scorching delights awaited should she decide to keep pushing those buttons purposefully.

The response was nearly instantaneous, buzzing through with a lively ding that kickstarted Soshiro's pulse instantly:

Lol yeah right you wish! For all I know you're just some wrinkly old perv fapping to me behind that screen...what makes you think you've earned another show after that?

He barked out an audible laugh at the saucy rejoinder, already eagerly firing back another round:

Guilty as charged on that second part, although I can promise my appreciation for the female form hasn't dulled with age one bit. As for earning my keep though...? That's exactly why I keep asking nicely for you to come up with some better reference material, babe. Gotta be prepared in case you live up to my wildest hopes after all...

The banter flowed like a raging current between them after that, punctuated by lulls where Soshiro could practically envision his mysterious chat partner stewing in feverish consternation over what salacious retort to fling back into the fray next. All the while, his eyes kept skating back to that tantalizing photo as if magnetized - drinking in the sumptuous lines and valleys with helpless relish as his neglected cock rapidly swelled.

Before his mind could fully register the passage of time, Soshiro's wristwatch began chirping out the late hour. Startled, he glanced at the device in shock - only to find nearly an entire evening had fled by in the blink of an eye while their flirtatious volleys dragged him deeper and deeper into temptation's swirling vortex.

Around him, stacks of overlooked paperwork blanketed every conceivable surface like the fallout of some administrative apocalypse. The forgotten chaos was a stark reminder of just how thoroughly this torrid game of tease and chase had eclipsed every other distraction vying for his attention mere hours ago.

Yet despite the damning wake of unfinished busywork surrounding him, Soshiro couldn't quite muster the appropriate shame or regret over being so thoroughly derailed yet again. Not when the hunger gnawing at the pit of his belly felt so sweetly sated for once - if only by the mere prospect of his sultry correspondent finally revealing her true tantalizing colors in the flesh rather than suggestive neon...

He sank back against the desk's unforgiving edge with a ragged sigh, absently palming the impressive swell tenting his pants shamelessly. There'd be no blissfully obliterating climax to cap off the evening's indecencies tonight, he acknowledged - not without a few more chess moves needing to play out first amid this deliciously charged stalemate.

But the sweet anticipation of that final reckoning, of bending this faceless siren to his whims and uncovering whether she was truly worth his deepening ardor? Why, that singular promise alone would sustain Soshiro through a thousand more agonizing, soul-sucking paper prisons if required.

After all, he wasn't some wet-behind-the-ears ingenue to be so easily caught up in a few torrid heat waves and saucy nothings fired across the digital ether. No, he was a creature of focus and discipline honed to an unyielding edge through endless trials of mind and body alike.

So the mere fact that this mysterious hedonist had already captivated his attentions so thoroughly was worth every second of unbearable restraint flexed...for now. Until the dam inevitably cracked and every unspoken longing could be drowned out in the rapturous floodwaters they'd summoned together with each lurid photo and breathy promise whispered out across the glowing night.

The digital flashing of the bedside clock seared 3:17 AM into Soshiro's bleary vision as he blinked himself awake yet again. A ragged sigh rattled up from his chest while he scrubbed both palms over his stubbly jawline in aggravation.

Another goddamn sleepless night starring down the barrel of his cellphone like an addict seeking that next hit of delirious, addictive sin...

Except his particular vice took the form of whispered indecencies typed out in rapidfire beside the tantalizing bounce of a strangers' ass packed into skimpy red lace. The image alone was practically tattooed behind his eyelids at this point despite the weeks having slipped by since its fateful arrival.

With a low growl, Soshiro rolled over onto his side and thumbed open his phone's lockscreen to reveal that familiar thread glowing from the display. Sure enough, those same mystery digits blinked up at him innocently amid the suggestive emoji exchanges and playful taunts that had rapidly become his sole beacon during the tedium of long, empty nights.

A tendril of frustrated heat coiled low in his abdomen as he gave the photo one more relentless perusal from top to bottom. How many more agonizing nocturnal hours had slipped by with his calloused palm chafing over his aching cock to this lone cherished trophy while sweating through fevered fantasies about getting his mouth all over those tantalizing curves in the flesh?

Too damn many to tally, that was for certain. And all without a single new breadcrumb to stoke these relentless hungers further beyond her unashamed goading and the occasional saucy comeback fired off across the digital divide.

A sudden volley of renewed buzzing from the device clutched in his free hand made Soshiro's eyes blow wide with a startling clarity. There it was again - the telltale signal of his elusive siren resurfacing to tease and taunt in equal measure no matter the hour.

He didn't bother checking the incoming missive at first, content to simply drag the moment out as long as humanly possible. To savor the frissons of electric expectation crackling over every hypersensitive nerve ending while his thumb hovered over the notification icon.

Whatever delirious promises or filthy demands awaited this time, Soshiro would commit each syllable to memory like divine scripture before inevitably spiraling further down the lust-maddened rabbit hole keeping his addict's hungers in perpetual torment...

My my, somebody's grinding that axe pretty hard again this evening, aren't they? Just couldn't resist seeing if I'm still in heat for you...?

There it was - that same impertinent lilt wrapped around every irreverent turn of phrase that made Soshiro's spent cock twitch with renewed interest. He pictured her pretty lips curved around those brazen taunts with dark amusement, lush and kiss-swollen from his attentions while coy innocence swam in her siren's stare despite the increasingly indecent game taking shape.

I figured you'd lost my number by now, baby. A girl could start getting insecure if her biggest fan went totally dark for days like this...

He fired back the retort immediately, eager to goad her into leaning into the charged heat steadily building between their forms once more across the miles. Wasn't often he encountered somebody so thoroughly game to trade blistering salvos without breaking stride.

On the contrary, gorgeous...felt like giving you breathing room before my thirst started feeling too heavy to bear. Figured you could use a break from me obsessing over that sweet little peach in your last shot.

Thankfully, her saucy reply was instantaneous - complete with a choice peach emoji of her own that made Soshiro's cock pulse between his thighs eagerly.

Awww, how considerate of you handsome! But you must know by now there's no such thing as 'too thirsty' for this lil peach when it's earned the privilege ;) I'd say we're WELL past due for you to sample the fruit while it's still ripe for the picking...

Soshiro swallowed hard, already picturing the scene with visceral intensity - him pinning that perfect, shapely ass down onto his tongue to suck and lave worship into every lush crease and sinful fold while she came undone above him. So lost to rapture that those taunting words melted into litanies of shattered prayer under his relentless tongue...

A sharp trill from the distress alarm made him startle abruptly from the spiraling fantasy, blistering promises already curling across his frayed psyche like lush vines. With an indelible groan of deepest resignation, Soshiro dragged himself upright and off the mattress to retrieve the summons that could only mean one inevitability.

Duty calls...again. Of-fucking-course it did.

The acrid stench of smoke and residual chemicals clung to Soshiro's sweat-damp form like a noxious shroud as he stalked away from the smoldering wreckage. Shrugging out of his suit's top layer, he gulped down deep, ravenous lungfuls of the cool night air in a vain bid to flush the bitter aftertaste of industrialized ruin from his mouth.

Mission success, at least on their end - the kaiju contained and any trapped civilians successfully evacuated before shit hit the fan. Soshiro chanced a glance over his shoulder at the ravaged factory and the kaiju carcass being meticulously cordoned off and documented by the cleaners. Just another harrowing Monday night at the defense force, really.

God, he couldn't wait to scrub the stench from his pores and collapse into some semblance of a recharge before inevitably being summoned topside again. Maybe he'd even get to avoid any further bullshit detours lobbed his way for once tonight...

"Hoshina!"

The sharp bark of his captain's voice sliced across the makeshift staging area, shattering that naive respite before it could fully take root. With a resigned sigh, Soshiro turned to find Mina waving him over from where she conferred with the medic lieutenant. Of course...he really should've known better, shouldn't he?

"Got a final errand for you before you check out," Ashiro rasped out without preamble as soon as he drew within earshot. "Low priority, but Arashi could use an extra hand to see one of the evacuees squared safely away. Downtown address, probably nothing more than a five-minute shuttle."

She passed him a folded slip of paper that Soshiro took automatically, already anticipating a protest bubbling up from his wearied bones. Only the full weight of Ashiro's expectant look gave him pause - because damned if the woman didn't have a preternatural way of dismantling his gruff impulses to reckless defiance before they could even unfurl fully.

Still...a damn glorified taxi service tonight of all nights? When they'd just survived another raging monster while scores of their boys risked permanent lung damage in the chemical factory? Soshiro felt the muscle in his jaw tighten imperceptibly as reason warred with the ingrained soldier's discipline inculcated over decades in the field.

Ashiro seemed to read his burgeoning objection plain as day across his set features. Before he could voice it brazenly, she stepped closer and pinned him with a pointed look from beneath her disheveled bangs.

"Look, I get it - this detour seems small after the clusterfuck you just hauled us through," she murmured, just loud enough for his ears alone. The candid solidarity laced around her normally brusque tone gave Soshiro pause once more.

"But this particular civilian..." Ashiro paused before continuing more quietly, regret pulling at the creases around her mouth. "Let's just say they've had about as shit luck as any of us trudging through that hazardous waste tonight. A bit of consideration beyond our call of duty ain't exactly gonna kill you, now is it?"

Soshiro stared back evenly for a long moment, unsure of how to parse the vague implication underscoring her simple request yet unable to dismiss it cavalierly all the same. At length, he broke eye contact with a curt nod and made to turn on his heel.

"Should've known you'd never steer me wrong, captain..." he rasped, already orienting toward the nearby transport vehicle that would complete his obligation. "I'll see our stray home safe and be back before morning briefs start...long as they don't decide to make themselves too difficult."

For some reason, a faint smile seemed to tug at the corners of Ashiro's expression at that proclamation. But all she offered was a brisk "good to know" before dismissing him to his task without further elucidation.

Not that Soshiro wasted too many brain cells lingering on her cryptic reassurances anyway. No, with the prospect of a solid night's rest twinkling before him like a shining beacon, his churning thoughts had already veered toward more...salacious distractions lying in wait.

Specifically the luscious little siren who'd been haunting his restless nights with a relentless drip-feed of illicit photos and ever more suggestive taunts volleyed across the digital ether at all hours. His fiery temptress who remained utterly shrouded in mystery beyond the tantalizing hints of feminine curves spilling over from lingerie or the occasional flashes of soft skin, tormenting him with what he still couldn't claim despite months of breathless pining.

But soon...oh so very soon if the unspoken promise lingered in her most recent teasing salvo. Soshiro refused to believe that their game of increasingly sinful escalation could continue on indefinitely, not with the way her messages had taken on an insistent urgency as if stoking the smolder of each imminent collision.

The real question was, would Soshiro expend his considerable resolve to ignore her unanswered provocation until they next crossed orbits? Or would he break down first to text her some lewd goad, unable to stand being rendered even temporarily adrift of her siren's attentions for another night longer?

He'd just settled into the grimy shuttle's cab, already reaching for his cellphone tucked in his pants pocket when his eyes flickered over the expectant figure seated across from him amid the vehicle's gloom. Soshiro felt his formerly resolute focus rupture completely as all context scattered from his muddled psyche at the sight of the woman staring straight back at him with undisguised pique.

You...

He knew those pouty, lush lips immediately despite the shadows obscuring most of your figure - the same pillowed contours that had starred across countless lurid photos fired off without context nor identity attached. The exact sumptuous mouth that promised to lave unrestrained worship across his cock in delirious soliloquies whenever he tormented himself with those forbidden snapshots late into the night...

As if magnetized, Soshiro's unblinking crimson stare roamed over the rest of your features in a slow, scorching perusal. That flawless visage and familiar cheekbones so tantalizingly obscured across his grainy camera roll now sprang into sublime clarity before him. And those molten eyes, blazing with unabashed annoyance and challenge in equal measure from beneath thick sooty lashes...

It couldn't be, and yet the impossible truth slammed into Soshiro with the force of a physical blow, stealing his labored breaths despite himself. Because somehow...some way...his indecently worshipped digital goddess had manifested into the flesh right before his stunned senses.

A shrill chirp from his jacket shattered the weighted trance, alerting him to another text undoubtedly languishing from his torrid muse amidst the darkness. Yet there was no need to check the sender ident now - not when Soshiro had finally placed the alluring pieces into their deliriously complete puzzle at last.

Your head swiveled sharply at the sudden vibration, irises flaring wide before locking onto his transfixed stare with that same razor edge he'd hungrily committed to fantasy. The undisguised surprise mingling with the annoyance etched across your striking features made Soshiro's mouth go instantly dry.

"Well?" you huffed out that smoky alto woven of sin and temptation itself, upper lip curling into a petulant sneer as he drank you in helplessly. "Are you just gonna sit there staring at me like a creep all night? Or do you plan on telling me why in the hell I'm being detained after getting checked over for—"

Soshiro couldn't bite back the low, rasping chuckle that punched free from his broad chest before you could finish your indignant diatribe. He watched in mounting delight as confusion and shock rippled over your stunning visage in turn, replacing the fiery censure with naked befuddlement.

Rather than giving voice to the thousand fevered thoughts whirling through his muddled consciousness, Soshiro allowed his eyes to drift down your seated form deliberately. To roam over the sumptuous curves cradled by those snug little skirt and lush thighs splayed carelessly before him with open greed.

And there, positioned at the perfect vantage point to torment and tempt from the shadows, winked that unmistakably familiar glint of rose-gold metal clinging to the subtle flare of your hip. He locked on the stylishly sleek phone case with ravenous intensity, as if mesmerized by the scant glimpses of lingerie-clad flesh all over again for the first time.

Only now, the reality of his indecent muse's identity grounded the feverish imaginings into sublime truth made manifest before him. That sinful soliloquy would drip straight from your plush lips with tangible smokiness rather than mere pixels spun into fantasy across dimly lit screens...

You bristled as that low, heady laugh swelled anew in response to his ravenous assessment. Every line of your body tightened, drawing his eye inexorably from the elegant column of your throat down to the gentle swell of cleavage unintentionally accentuated beneath thin cotton.

"Okay buddy, I'm not sure what your deal is here," you snapped, crossing your arms defensively over your chest in a subconscious flare of modesty. "But if you don't knock off the creeper staring contest in about three seconds, I'll—"

But Soshiro cut off your indignant threat with a few precise strides forward into the shuttles cramped interior. Your eyes blew comically wide as he loomed into your space without ceremony or preamble, forcing you to crane your neck back to meet his piercing ruby regard from beneath shuttered lashes.

"Careful now, sweet cheeks," he rumbled, pitching his voice into that liquid velvet rasp that made you visibly shudder despite yourself. "Can't go making threats like that against the Vice Commander of one of the city's finest frontline combat division, now can you?"

He watched your throat work convulsively on a sharp inhalation, entire body tensed as every muscle hummed with sudden hyper-awareness. Yet rather than retreating or shrinking beneath his implacable proximity, you seemed to draw every ounce of sultry defiance forward in one single glare of molten incredulity.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you rasped out in naked disbelief. "There's no way you're—"

"Hoshina Soshiro, in the scorching flesh after being subjected to your torments day in and out," he crooned, deliberately pitching each word into the lower registers that stroked over your hypersensitive nerve endings. "Although I have to say...not a single nude or vulgar emoji barrage could ever hope to capture how utterly exquisite you are up close like this, gorgeous."

At last, blessed recognition dawned behind your widening eyes alongside the flickering embers of unmistakable heat. Soshiro watched with relish as your spine straightened from its defensive hunch, shoulders squaring instinctively as you studied him with ravenous consideration anew.

"Then I have to say, you put those brooding hero shots all over the news to absolute shame, stud..." you murmured with a subtle shift closer to his looming silhouette that drew a predatory growl from somewhere deep in Soshiro's chest.

He responded by closing the remaining distance until your parted thighs cradled his muscular bulk with barely a sliver of space for propriety between. Threading one meaty palm into the lustrous tresses cascading down your back, Soshiro tilted your head until your gazes locked and mingled harsh breaths in the electric divide.

"Well then," he husked against the velvet pout of your lips with molten promise flowing from his tongue at last. "Now that the masks have fallen completely...how about we get this firestorm started properly for once, kitten?"

You swayed into his hulking frame with infinite grace, nose brushing his in a deliberate tease that made his engorged cock throb between clenched thighs. Yet rather than finally bridging that last electrified inch, you simply cracked one corner of your mouth higher in a smile sharp enough to sunder atoms.

"Mmm...thought you'd never ask," you purred, smoky voice caressing over Soshiro's nerves like a physical brand.

Unable to resist claiming a taste after so many agonizing nights spent fantasizing, he surged forward to seal his mouth over yours in a searing glide. You moaned shamelessly into the velvet heat of his insistent tongue delving between your parted lips to plunder and map every slick crevice with greedy fervor.

"Fuck..." Soshiro groaned without breaking the filthy glide of your mingled breaths. "Taste even sweeter than I imagined, baby girl."

He punctuated the growled praise by dragging you forward with the hand fisted in your silken hair. Your plush chest crushed against the sleek bulwark of his torso as your throats undulated in shared rapture, allowing zero space for propriety to linger between your rapidly aligning forms.

"Easy there..." you managed to pant out against the scorching brand of his mouth, all honeyed sin. "We've still got a few things to sort out before the real fun even starts..."

Soshiro snarled wordlessly in response, free hand snapping out to cinch around the lush flare of your hip and grind your molten cores together mercilessly. The delirious friction of your bodies sliding in sinful tandem made you both keen out twin whimpers of blissful torment.

Rather than relent beneath the bruising onslaught of Soshiro's feverish demands, you allowed one elegant fingernail to trail from the nape of his neck all the way down the bulwark of carved granite at his nape. Every flex and shiver of tensed muscle rippling beneath your teasing caress drew a fresh hiss through his gritted teeth.

"Like...how does a sweet little tease like me end up on your very important list for playing naughty delivery girl, hmm?" you purred against the heated line of his stubbled jaw, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek deliciously. "Last I checked, my selfie skills didn't quite qualify as acts of civic duty, handsome..."

Soshiro allowed himself to be tugged into the sensual sway of your taunting seduction, relishing how every sultry note bleeding from those honeyed lips seemed to vibrate straight through to his throbbing length grinding against your soaked heat at last. When your mouth skated over his in a ghosting brush, teeth raking his bottom lip in passing, his ragged groan punched up from somewhere primordial stirring awake in his abdomen at last.

"Your guess is as good as mine, gorgeous," he husked against the sinful pout you presented like forbidden fruit begging to be devoured. "Although if you really think I'm gonna waste the first taste of this sweet pussy on dull conversation..."

He emphasized the vow by slamming his hips up against yours in a visceral grind, fitting the swollen ridge of his cock directly between your molten folds with devastating friction. You jolted against him with a shattered whimper, head lolling back in unmistakable ecstasy as every lush curve undulated with rising fever.

"Then you've got another thing coming, don't you kitten?" Soshiro growled with merciless intent, already shucking his jacket down over his forearms to free up hands dedicated solely to mapping out all your most scorching hollows in graphic worship.

Before you could peel back another insolent retort, he sealed his mouth over the frantic thrum of your pulse and sank his teeth into the soft skin of your neck in a vicious bite. The sound that ripped from your chest could only be described as a keening howl, torn free as if by force and ringing throughout the small space.

Soshiro's answering snarl of savage victory was muffled against your neck as his fingers clawed into the plush flesh of your thighs and forced them wide in one brutal shove. In response, you simply curled your calves around the hard slab of his lower back, anchoring him into place with no room to spare between your joined bodies.

"Fucking hell, baby girl..." he ground out through clenched teeth as you rocked and writhed against his grinding cock, seeking friction like a mindless creature. "If this is your way of trying to get me fired...it's fucking working."

"Not...trying anything..." you managed to gasp out in broken fragments, eyes rolling back in their sockets with every roll of his hips grinding his bulging arousal directly over the soaking fabric of your panties. "Just...fuck...wanted...to give my hero a proper thank you for—"

"By teasing the ever loving shit outta me all these weeks?" Soshiro bit off with another punishing rock of his hips that punched a breathless cry from your chest. "I'd call this a downright hostile fucking reception, princess. So tell me...how do you plan on making it up to me?"

As he spoke, one hand slid around the curve of your hip and dove beneath the elastic of your panties to stroke the molten slit of your folds directly. Your choked off moan echoed through the small space, accompanied by a fresh flood of molten arousal drenching the pad of his index finger and the sensitive flesh around it.

"Holy fuck...soaked to the goddamn bone already," he snarled with vicious approval, allowing his fingertips to glide across your engorged clit before dipping just a fraction inside the clutching entrance to your molten channel. "This tight little cunt has been waiting for my fat cock from the start, hasn't it, baby? Just like the rest of you..."

The next ragged sound that punched from your chest could only be a whimpering sob of affirmation as he sank one digit to the knuckle, stretching the tight band of muscles clenching around him desperately. His answering snarl was a feral, animalistic sound - more beast than man as he began to fingerfuck you with a punishing rhythm that sent your bodycareening forward.

"I asked you a fucking question, kitten," he growled into the sweaty column of your neck, relishing the frantic thrash of your body as he crooked his finger inside you and scissored against the molten walls. "And you better have the right answer ready by the time I get my tongue in this pretty little pussy, or else..."

You keened at the filth pouring from his lips and the wicked curl of his finger against that spot deep inside you, writhing and undulating into his touch in a sublime dance. Soshiro allowed his free palm to snap up and cinch around the fragile bones of your throat, exerting the barest hint of pressure against the thrumming artery as his mouth hovered mere inches above yours.

"Or else what?" you dared to rasp, lips brushing his with a teasing nip. "Gonna spank me like a naughty schoolgirl, Vice Commander?"

Soshiro responded by adding a second finger to the first, wedging his way inside your tight heat with a guttural groan and a fresh rush of sticky arousal. Your choked off cry rang through the shuttle car and beyond as his thumb slammed down on your engorged clit and pinched in a rolling, ruthless grind.

"Not today, baby girl," he husked with savage relish, watching in rapt delight as the molten heat pooling between your legs began to coat his wrist with every pistoning pump. "Today, I'm just going to make you cum so many times you're damn near passing out from it. Because the second you're done squirting all over my fingers and face like a filthy little whore, I'm gonna fuck you stupid."

Your eyes blew wide at the crass threat, pupils dilating so fully that only a thin rim of iris remained. You whimpered brokenly against his lips, hips rolling with wanton abandon as his fingers plunged into your soaked pussy again and again.

"That's it, sweetheart..." he rumbled, free hand winding into your silken locks and yanking back until your gaze met his in the dim lighting. "Fucking cream all over my fingers so I can taste your sweet cunt just the way I've been dreaming about for weeks now."

As if triggered by his command, your entire body jolted and quivered in his arms, arching off the seat in a violent shudder as a deluge of fresh arousal coated his fingers and palm. Your inner walls clamped down on his digits like a vice, milking his knuckles as a flood of clear fluid gushed down his wrist and soaked the seat below.

The keening cry that ripped from your chest was utterly debauched, and Soshiro drank it in with unhinged fervor as he rode out your orgasm with relentless fingers. Without wasting a moment, he withdrew his hand and hauled you up until his massive bulk sprawled across the bench.

When you could finally see through the dizzying haze of aftershocks, Soshiro held up the two fingers still dripping with the evidence of your arousal, smearing them obscenely across his tongue. He let loose a primal, guttural growl at the flavor, and then his mouth was on yours again.

The kiss was all raw, feral hunger - teeth clashing and tongues dueling as his hands shoved beneath the hem of your shirt to palm your breasts. You arched into his touch as if electrified, and then his mouth was tearing away to suck the pebbled peak of your nipple directly through the damp cotton.

"You've got ten seconds to tell me why I shouldn't toss you onto the floor and fuck you stupid, baby," Soshiro snarled against the lush curve of your breast, nipping and suckling until you were keening and bucking up into his hungry maw.

"Because...oh god..." you panted, fingers digging into his shoulders with bruising force. "Because y-you promised to eat me out first…"

Soshiro reared up at that, the molten embers in his ruby eyes igniting into a full blaze. Without ceremony, his hands hooked beneath your ass and dragged you forward until your knees draped over his shoulders. "So I did, baby..." he growled, mouth poised directly over the sodden fabric of your panties.

With no further preamble, his teeth sank into the soaked lace and yanked with brutal strength. He tossed the torn fabric aside without a glance, too enraptured by the slick, puffy lips of your glistening sex mere inches from his face.

"Fuck me…" he groaned, fingers clamping down on the ample globes of your ass and yanking your dripping pussy up to meet his parted lips. His tongue swept through the silken folds in a single, broad swipe that made your hips jerk and grind against his face with wanton desperation. Soshiro chuckled against the molten heat, dark and feral, before sealing his lips around the engorged bud of your clit and sucking it into his mouth.

"Oh fuck...fuck fuck fuck..." you chanted like a mantra, spine arching and undulating like a livewire as the wet, filthy suction of his mouth pulled a fresh surge of arousal straight from the molten depths of your cunt. Soshiro growled with ravenous approval, lapping at the nectar that poured out in a sticky stream with every roll of your hips against his lips.

He could feel the tight coil of your impending climax, the desperate clench and flutter of your soaked channel around nothing. Unable to resist, Soshiro's tongue plunged inside your molten entrance with single-minded focus, fucking you open as his nose bumped your swollen clit in a punishing grind.

"So good...so fucking good...oh my god, keep going," you gasped out in a torrent of words and moans, the filthy squelch of his tongue pistoning inside your soaked channel the only thing louder than the roaring thunder in your ears.

When his mouth latched onto the swollen bud of your clit again and sucked until his cheeks hollowed, you came with an unearthly scream that would have been heard throughout the entire complex if not for the loud thrum of the shuttle car and the heavy thump of rain against the roof.

Soshiro allowed himself to be ridden through the storm as you bucked and writhed against his tongue, his throat and jaw working to drink up the endless stream of clear fluid that coated his face and chin in a sheen. It took several long moments for the wild jerks and twitches to abate, and by the time they did, Soshiro felt certain you'd been completely emptied out.

"That was two, princess..." he growled, dragging your limp form upright until his mouth could reach yours again. You whimpered softly as his tongue surged inside, tasting yourself on his lips and the slick, velvety glide of his tongue.

"Such a good girl..." he murmured, allowing the pad of his thumb to drag down your jaw and trace the plush contours of your mouth. "So sweet and delicious. You gonna let me fuck this tight little cunt now?"

You nodded frantically, reaching down with shaking hands to claw the waistband of his slacks. With a low rumble, he lifted his hips and allowed you to shuck the offending fabric down his muscular thighs. When you finally managed to wrestle the thick length of his cock free, he hissed in a breath through clenched teeth as the air rushed across the exposed glans.

"F-fuck..." you whispered, eyes blown wide and unseeing as your palm slid down the velvet steel and gave an experimental stroke. Soshiro's only response was a guttural snarl, one hand clamping down on the base of his shaft as if to stave off his own imminent release. Just the sight of your soft hand gliding over his engorged cock, smearing his leaking precum over the pulsing head, was nearly enough to make him blow his load.

"Don't you dare, baby," he ground out through gritted teeth. "I'm not fucking coming anywhere except inside this sweet little cunt. Now turn around and stick that ass in the air for me."

A fresh rush of arousal coated your molten folds at the crass demand, and you complied without hesitation. Soshiro watched in rapt hunger as you scrambled off his lap and turned, bracing your forearms against the bench and presenting the flushed swell of your ass directly before his gaze.

"Good girl," he growled, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver of anticipation straight up your spine. His palms dragged up the supple curves of your hips, thumbs digging into the dimples at the base of your spine. He allowed his aching shaft to slide up and down the slick valley between your legs, gathering up the moisture that leaked from your slit to glide over the pulsing head.

"You have any idea how many times I've jerked off to this ass?" Soshiro husked, eyes riveted on the hypnotic sway of the round globes as he rolled his hips and ground his cock against the puffy lips. "Every night for the past three weeks, princess. This perfect, juicy ass has been starring in my wet dreams since the moment I saw it in those naughty, little panties."

You whimpered and rocked back against him, the swollen folds parting to accommodate the pulsing length grinding against them. Soshiro hissed in a breath as the fat tip caught on the clenching entrance and sank inside with an agonizing thrust.

"God, baby girl...your little pussy's sucking me in like a fucking dream," he snarled, fingers biting into the flesh of your hips as he forced himself to still inside the clenching grip of your cunt. You were so impossibly tight, and with the barest trickle of slick easing his way, Soshiro could have sworn he was about to die and ascend to the heavens right there.

"Please, Soshiro...need you to fuck me," you gasped, head lolling forward until your forehead hit the backrest. The angle of his thrust had the fat head grinding directly into the sensitive spot just inside your fluttering entrance, and the pressure was already driving you mad.

Soshiro obliged without another word, one hand fisting in your hair and the other digging into the soft flesh of your hip. He withdrew with agonizing slowness, hissing as the clinging walls of your cunt fought to suck him back in. Once he was nearly free, only the bulbous crown lodged inside the molten clutch, Soshiro slammed forward with a punishing thrust that had you screaming and jerking beneath him.

"Fucking shit, baby," he gasped, fingers scrabbling for purchase on your hips as you arched back into his every thrust, desperate for more. The sight of his massive, veiny cock splitting open the puffy folds of your pussy was almost enough to send him careening over the edge.

Soshiro allowed himself to bottom out a few times, sinking in to the root and grinding his hips into the soft cushion of your ass. On the third pump, he withdrew completely and slammed inside, reveling in the breathless cry that fell from your lips as his balls slapped against your clit.

"That's it, baby girl," he panted, leaning back and spreading his thighs to allow you to grind back into his punishing rhythm. "Fuck yourself on this cock...goddamn, your cunt is so fucking tight and wet. I'm not gonna last, princess."

You could only respond with a choked whimper, fingers clawing into the upholstery as the thick, blunt head of his cock slammed against your cervix. You nearly passed out when you felt something prod at the puckered rim of your ass, and then Soshiro's thumb was sinking inside to the knuckle.

"That's my girl," he crooned, twisting the digit and hooking the pad against the fluttering wall of muscle. The rest of his fingers were splayed out across the supple curves of your ass, spreading you wide open and allowing him a view of his cock sinking into your clutching pussy. He could see the way your juices clung to his shaft as it pumped inside you, the frothy ring of white forming at the base of his cock with every thrust.

"Soshiro...Soshiro, I'm going to—"

"Cum on this cock, princess," he snarled, his thumb popping free of your ass and his other hand slapping down across the plush flesh. Your shriek rang out through the shuttle car, bouncing off the walls as your inner muscles clenched down on the pistoning shaft.

The molten heat that pooled in the cradle of your hips boiled over and erupted, a geyser of clear, creamy fluid gushing down the insides of your thighs and soaking the bench below. Your vision whited out as you were sent hurtling over the edge, body jerking and undulating with every punishing pump of Soshiro's hips.

"God damn, baby...gonna make me cum," Soshiro choked out, his fingers clawing into your hips and lifting you off the seat with a single-minded determination. Your entire body was limp and lax, held up only by the vice grip of his hands and the relentless slam of his cock.

Your inner muscles were clenching in a desperate bid to milk him dry, and Soshiro couldn't have stopped his release even if he tried. With a savage snarl, he yanked you back against his cock, grinding his hips against your ass until his balls were flush with the sticky lips of your pussy.

His cock twitched and throbbed, a veritable flood of his seed erupting inside your soaked cunt. You moaned as his spend gushed and splattered against the delicate walls, and Soshiro's hips jerked with every new pulse that left his cock.

The sweaty aftermath found you both tangled together in a delicious heap against the narrow bench, chests heaving with satiated pants. Soshiro's large palm traced idle patterns along the slick planes of your back, raising goosebumps wherever his calloused fingers grazed.

Finally breaking the blissful quiet, he rumbled out a low chuckle against the nape of your neck. "Well...can't say I ever expected an escort mission to go quite like this."

You hummed languidly, leaning back against his sculpted chest with a contented smile. "Oh? And here I thought you Defense Force types thrived on beating expectations."

His laugh was rich and deep, vibrating against where you lay draped over him shamelessly. "Only when the surprises are as delightfully mind-blowing as you, gorgeous."

Craning your neck, you met Soshiro's molten gaze - admiring his dark, tousled hair and the way his toned torso glistened with a sheen of exertion. You couldn't resist leaning up to trail a series of teasing, openmouthed kisses along the sharp cut of his jawline.

"Speaking of surprises..." you murmured between kitten licks and nips. "Care to elaborate on how exactly we ended up...undressed and tangled back here, Vice Captain?"

Soshiro groaned at the provocative path your lips blazed, large hand coming up to fist in your hair and angle you closer for a deep, indulgent kiss. When you parted, he was gazing at you with a heavy-lidded smolder akin to a predator satisfied after devouring its prey.

"Seems there was one kinky little minx I just couldn't keep my hands off any longer," he growled, giving your lower lip a teasing nip. "Not after spending all those weeks talking dirty back and forth."

You shivered at the reminder of how this heated tryst had kicked off between the two of you - graphic messages and enticing photos swapped in the dead of night before you even knew his face.

"Something tells me you aren't exactly complaining though," you purred back, rolling your hips in a slow grind that made you both gasp.

His pewter stare darkened with renewed hunger, free hand spanning the generous curve of your ass to grind you more insistently against his growing cock. "Not one damn bit, baby girl. But how about I take you out for a real date this time before we get too carried away again?"

You blinked at him in surprise before the words clicked into place, followed swiftly by a surge of warmth and feminine satisfaction spreading through your chest. Here was the notorious Vice Captain, all rakish charisma and endless skill in the bedroom from what you'd just experienced...and he wanted to actually court you outside the sheets, too.

Allowing your most tantalizing smile to curve your lips, you ducked in for one more smoldering, openmouthed kiss that left you both dazed and flushed. "I'd like that, Soshiro," you breathed against the damp heat of his swollen lips. "But for now...how about we take care of the issue that's just started poking into my stomach again?"

[bontentrio]

ATEEZ STUCK IN THE FRIENDZONE

ot8 x gn reader

summary: they are down bad for their best friend

tw: mostly fluff, maybe angst. also alcoholic drinks and being drunk in yeosang’s and wooyoung’s. parts. (+ possible spelling mistakes since english is not my first language!)

a/n: friends to lovers > any other tropes lol also requests are open rn!!

part 2: hongjoong + seonghwa | yunho + yeosang (more soon!)

HONGJOONG

hongjoong felt helpless. he didn’t know if you were messing with him on purpose or if you were genuinely clueless to his feelings, but he is sure he’s about to lose his mind. how much more will he be able to take of your soft touches on his skin? or how close to his face you would get when you wanted to show him something on your phone?

everything would change if he just closed the distance between you two. or if he said those three dangerous words that had been appearing in his mind every time he saw you. three words. one kiss. or both?

“joong, are you with me?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. he blinked rapidly and nodded “something about buying a new laptop right?”

you hummed in response, shoving your phone in his face while scooting closer. “i think i like this pink one, it’s so very cute, but do you think it will be able to take all the digital material for class and all my sims expansions? or should i just go with the boring one that has more storage?” you asked, looking at him. it took everything in him to not kiss you right then and there, so instead, he bit his lip, pretending to think about it.

“i mean, you can always personalize it with stickers so it’s less boring” he suggested. your eyes immediately widened, not having thought about that option. “hongjoong you are a genius! i can’t believe it didn’t cross my mind”

“i know you like the back of my hand y/n” he said in a whisper, but you heard him nonetheless.

“that’s why you’re my best friend, you always complement me” you said, smiling and returning to your seat beside him, as you started purchasing the ‘boring’ laptop.

hongjoong never wanted to bang his head against a wall more.

SEONGHWA

“so he told her that she was the crazy one! can you believe that, hwa?” you asked, crossing your arms as you walked beside him. you have been rambling non stop about what happened to one of your friends and her now ex boyfriend. “bold of him to accuse her of being crazy when he was the one that cheated with her cousin” he answered, turning his head towards you and smiling.

“right, thank you! that’s exactly what i told her!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air dramatically. “i swear guys are so dumb these days”

“the dumbest” he said, chuckling.

“not you of course, you are always the exception whenever i talk about men and their stupidness” you said, patting his shoulder lightly in a friendly manner. seonghwa’s heart skip a beat. he wanted to be an exception, he wanted you to realize his feelings so bad and for you to reciprocate them.

“trust me, i would not be friends with a dumb man” you continued, now grabbing his arm and leaning your head against it. “i genuinely think you are the only exception”.

he was about to start jumping from joy, were you about to realize how meant to be you both are? how you both were each other’s ‘exceptions’?

“i think you’re an exception too” he said, testing the waters as he stopped in his tracks, causing you to lift your head up to look at him. you smiled, and he swore his heart stopped beating for a second.

“of course i am! that’s why we’re best friends, hwa!” you exclaimed happily. in contrast, he internally screamed, hope slipping through his fingers slowly.

YUNHO

it was a sort of tradition to have game night every week in order to de-stress, followed by a slumber party of two. you would bring snacks and drinks, and yunho would provide the tv, playstation and games. it was the perfect arrangement.

tonight was no different: you were lying on the coach with your legs resting on top of yunho’s lap, as you quickly pressed on the buttons of your customized controller that he had gifted you for your last birthday. meanwhile, he played with his spider man joystick, silently cursing whenever he got hit by enemies.

“noo yunho i’m down! come and revive me!” you groaned when your character died. he chuckled in response “you are really bad at this game, y/n”.

you playfully hit his arm and rolled your eyes “i would be better if someone covered for me instead of running off!” you said. “i was getting supplies!” he complained, making his character bring you back to life. before he was done though, another player killed him. “what were you saying about my gaming skills, baby?” you asked, playfully.

yunho.exe stopped working, as every time you called him that nickname. he knew that you were just being friendly, but he couldn’t help how fast his heart would start beating each time. for you, it was just a word. but for him? the nickname meant everything: hope. hope that someday you will use the nickname in a way that would trascend friendship. hope that someday, you will realize his feelings and reciprocate them.

maybe if you used the word often enough, you would soon realize it.

YEOSANG

the first time you kissed was a drunken mistake. you both took one too many shots at san’s birthday party, and one thing lead to another and you ended up straddling his lap as you hungrily kissed him. despite his *very* drunk state, yeosang was over the moon, hoping this would change the direction of your friendship.

he realized how wrong he was when he woke up the morning after with a text from you that said “i hope that last night doesn’t change anything between us, i’m sorry”. he knew you were probably spiraling into the worst case scenarios, so he thought it would be healthier to just leave it there, for now at least. “we’re still friends, don’t worry” he texted back, hating himself for being a coward.

the second time was a dare at some party you attended of a mutual friend. he was the designated driver, and you knew he would have a hard time dragging his drunk friends back back to the car, so you offered to stay sober with him. he told you that it wasn’t necessary, earning a warm smile from you as you replied “that’s what best friends are for”.

the music was loud and the place was filled with drunk people, some making out in corners of the room, others engaging in incomprehensible conversations. yeosang and you were gathered in a circle with your friends as you played some sort of truth or dare game. it was mingi’s turn to spin the empty bottle of beer, having just finished his dare. to your misfortune, it landed on you.

“truth” you answered, earning groans from your friends, complaining about how ‘boring’ that option is. “y/n you picked truth last time! it’s dare time” mingi said in between giggles. “ugh fine, dare then i guess” you said, rolling your eyes as a smile creeped on your face.

“i dare you to kiss someone from this circle” he said, quickly glancing at yeosang, who immediately paled. you blushed, meditating your options for a moment before turning to your best friend. “we kissed once and remained friends. please don’t let this change”, you said, crashing your lips against his.

and he was, once again, over the moon, choosing to ignore the last part of that sentence.

SAN

“sannie!” you exclaimed, running up to him and throwing your arms around his neck. his arms immediately wrapped around you, holding you in place as he hid his face on your neck, inhaling your scent in discretion. it’s been too long since he last saw you, felt you near him. “i missed you so much, san! tell me everything about the tour”

you spent the afternoon talking about his adventures while on tour, showing you pictures of different places and telling you funny anecdotes of his members. each time he finished a story, you would smile so big and radiantly he found himself trying to control his heartbeat from racing. you also told him about how you were doing, of course! he wanted to know every new detail in your life, even though he knew many of the updates since you both regularly texted.

“i missed this” he confessed, before adding “i missed you”. your eyes softened at his words, taking his hand on yours. “i missed you too, sannie. it’s hell not being able to see your best friend every day as usual” you said. unbeknownst to you, you had just broken his heart a little with that last part. he just nodded, giving you a small smile.

on tour he felt your absence in words he couldn’t describe, always reaching for you when you weren’t there or aching to just grab his phone and call you. so, he decided he had enough of that. he was determined to tell you his feelings.

“actually, i bought something for-“ he started saying, but got interrupted by your phone vibrating beside you. “sorry, hold on” you said, before picking up. a smiled immediately appeared on your face, lighting up your whole aura as you talked back to whoever was on the phone with you. san couldn’t be more in love with you.

“sorry sannie, i have to leave. i thought my date cancelled tonight but apparently will be able to make it on time. so i have to leave right now to get ready for it” you explained.

his heart broke once again, letting go of the silver necklace he had bought for you. maybe another time, or maybe he was already too late.

MINGI

you were starting to get annoyed, and mingi knew it. you stood in front of him, crossing your arms as you looked at him questioningly. “i just don’t understand why you won’t let me read your songs”, you complained.

mingi sighed in response, leaving his notebook on the table beside him. “because it’s personal, y/n”. you rolled your eyes in annoyance, not believing a single word that came out of his mouth. “oh so now it’s personal? wasn’t it also personal when you, without my knowledge may i add, read my diary?” you argued back.

“that was different and you know it! i literally didn’t even know it was your diary” he said. “plus you forgave me for that!”

on normal circumstances, he would let you read his song notebook as many times as you wanted, hell, he would even sing/rap the verses for you. but ever since he realized that the meaning behind those songs revolved around you, about how you, his best friend, were his main source of inspiration, he decided to never let those songs see the light of day. unless until he was ready. what if you were repulsed? what if you decided he was creepy and distanced yourself from him? he didn’t even want to think about those scenarios.

“yes i did, but that doesn’t change the fact that you still read about my deepest thoughts and-“ you started saying, before your eyes widened and your voice started stuttering “wait. do you- do you actually not trust me? do you think i would leak the songs to the media?”

mingi honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. or worse, what you said next: “is this also why you’ve been avoiding me?”. mingi felt like punching himself, had he been avoiding you unconsciously? he knew he started keeping his distance a bit more, not replying as quick and not visiting as often as before. but he thought the changes were not noticeable by you.

you stared at him, tears forming slowly but surely on your eyes, as you tried so hard to keep them from falling. mingi was looking down, too lost on his thoughts. you waited a few moments, before muttering a low “i would never do that to you, mingi”.

he realized you were gone when he heard the door closing behind you.

WOOYOUNG

“if looks could kill, that guy would be long dead” yunho said, wrapping an arm around wooyoung as he smiled teasingly. he huffed, not taking his eyes from you and the random guy that had been keeping you entertained for longer than appreciated.

you were just getting drinks from the bar, but a random guy approached you suddenly and stole your attention before wooyoung could do something about it. you didn’t look uncomfortable, so it’s not like he could just walk up to you and steal you away. you weren’t even “his” to steal to begin with, his official title being “my bestest friend in the whole world” as you would say. a title that he, in fact, despised.

“you can always intervene you know? i mean they were supposed to get you a drink” yunho pointed out before sipping from his beer can. wooyoung looked at him. then looked back at you. his decision was made the moment he saw the man reach for your waist.

“love, what’s taking my drink so long?” he asked as soon as he approached you at the bar, stealing you away from the man and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. you turned to him, unknowing of his true intentions “oh my god woo i forgot! here it is, i’m sorry”

but wooyoung’s eyes didn’t leave the man, who immediately averted his gaze. “i didn’t know you had a boyfriend” the man said, glancing back at you. “he’s actually my best-“ you started saying but wooyoung interrupted you.

“boyfriend, yes. i think you should leave” .

JONGHO

jongho felt your arms wrap around him from behind the coach, pulling him back and stilling him in his place. he looked up at you and smiled softly, as you looked down with the same kind of smile. then, both of your attention was drifted back to wooyoung, who was dramatically telling a story about how hongjoong almost lost his laptop again.

“correction: someone stole it the first time, i didn’t lose it” hongjoong pointed out, earning a laugh from you. as cheesy as it seems, jongho truly believed that it is his favorite sound.

actually, you were his favorite everything: favorite person, favorite singer (despite only hearing you sing in the car or shower), favorite cook. the sound of your voice and laugh was his favorite, along with the way your face expressed clearly how you were feeling at the moment. to him, you were an open book, his favorite book.

the only problem was that he wasn’t sure if he was yours. yes, you were closer to him than with the rest, often confiding in him with your deepest secrets. you built an irreplaceable bond with him, one that he was truly afraid to break if he told you about his feelings. so for now, he settled with enjoying the skinship you offered.

getting too entertained by the dramatic scenery displayed in front of you, neither of you noticed mingi looking at your small, almost unconscious, interactions.

“hey how come we never get to hug you without getting kicked, jongho?” mingi asked, making everyone take notice of the way you were hugging and resting your head on jongho’s, as he traced his fingers along your arms.

“best friend privileges” you answered, noticing the way jongho flinched while he tried to think of a quick way to answer. what you didn’t know, was that your explanation made him want to scream. “oh really? isn’t it because-“ mingi started teasing, only to be interrupted by jongho abruptly standing up to kick him jokingly as he screamed, trying to block what he was trying to say.

he was willing to die with the secret that he had fallen deeply and stupidly in love with his favorite everything.

[xinghius]

There Is A Place For You

"Saeee?"

It's supposed to be on for another three minutes, the face mask he's wearing — given how much he paid for it, he sure as fuck planned on getting his money's worth — but if the way you call out for him from the bedroom isn't enough to get him to peel the soaked sheet off his face in haste, he isn't sure what else would be. "Coming," he intones.

Four minutes earlier than planned, Sae steps out of the bathroom, his footsteps silent as he crosses over the threshold, the towel in his hand soaking up excess droplets of water forming puddles in his hair. Hanging it over his shoulders when he's finally done, his forehead puckers at the sight laid out in front of him.

You're huddled up in bed, blanket tucked underneath the dip of your chin, your arms spread over its surface — like melted butter over toasted bread.

He almost melts, too.

It's nothing out of the ordinary, seeing you like this. The only stroke out of place in this picture of normalcy is the fact that you're still awake; you've usually tilted to sleep by now.

(Despite valiant efforts to stay up to welcome him with open arms, with how demanding his schedule is — and how often it translates to him staying overtime to take showers in musk scented locker rooms — it's no more than an exercise in futility.)

"I got lonely," you confess

You pat down the area beside you in invitation — the space you reserve for him, despite how often vacancy occupies it in his stead. "Join me?" you say, your lips just out into a pout. The same one that never fails to get you what you want.

He rolls his eyes, slipping on a fresh shirt over his head — an action you respond to with a whiny protest — before reprimanding you on the importance of routine.

His, at least.

Still, he ends up lying next to you anyway, the final step of his skincare neglected, his shirt long abandoned on the floor, and your fingers tracing arbitrary shapes on his chest.

Wherever the fuck his towel went, he has no idea either.

You hum in content, pressed warm against his skin. He has half the mind to say something, but he's never been much of a talker, and the whirring of the ceiling fan above feels sufficient enough to inhabit the silence.

For you, not too much.

"Can I kiss you?" Your voice slices a clean cut right through it, reaching his heart as well.

He glances at you askance, raising an eyebrow. Inquisitive. Maybe a tad vexed. Flipping onto his side and propping up against an elbow, he looks almost betrayed. "That's a stupid question," he arraigns, the accusatory inflection in his tone unmistakable.

"There's no such thing as a stupid question," you say.

He scoffs.

"Coming from your mouth, there's always plenty."

You feign hurt like the liar you are, pressing a hand over your heart as if guarded. "So mean, Itoshi-san," you scold. "Watch your mouth before I throw you on the couch," you warn, inching away.

"Last name basis?" he teases with guile, closing the new distance you created. "You're going to be an Itoshi someday, too," he reminds, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

The warmth of it sends a lick of heat creeping up your spine. You tell him to shut up, maintaining feigned annoyance for a good minute. Twenty seconds after that you're melting into him again, falling victim to his spell. He squeezes your thigh and you frown.

"You suck."

He laughs. "I know, baby."

"And you're mean."

This, he clicks his tongue at. His eyes crinkle at their corners and he lets out a noise of dissent. He wouldn't call himself the beau ideal of a lover, per se — then again, no one would — but for all his imperfections, his actions make up for the lack of honesty he can't seem to put into words.

"You're the mean one."

He doesn't struggle, dragging your weight to drape you across his chest. Your thighs cage the sides of his own in the blink of an eye and you can't help letting out a gasp at the suddenness of it all. This contact. Where you press against. Where he allows you to.

A millimeter of distance occupies the gap separating you and him; you still, unsure whether you can move, or even breathe.

He thinks it's cute, your hesitation. On the other hand, it can be annoying at times, how shy you are. How you always feel the need to hold back. To ask, when he's always been willing to give you anything. Anything. Even his last name.

It's offensive how you have yet to see it.

"Look at me," he says.

Wordless, you obey.

He cradles your head in his hands, swiping his fingers along the length of your jaw and reveling in the way you shudder at his touch.

"I told you last time—" he whispers. Still, it remains as sharp as a reminder, one he prays will stick "—you don't need to ask."

It's delicate, this line he treads. He has always been one for taking, after all. Never giving. And often, he is wary just how much generosity he can offer before it turns into some sort of weakness. But when he kisses you and you reciprocate in kind, if not with more desire, he understands why Caesar surrendered himself into the hands of Cleopatra, understands why Antony devoted himself to that love, too.

Maybe it's a horrible analogy, and maybe he's got his facts wrong — he doesn't know much about history, doesn't care enough to, either — but if you can learn to take, and he can learn to give, maybe one day he can learn to be a suave romantic.

But for now, he's content with interrupted giggles and pleads to resurface for air.

[chrissmou]

Gushing the Stay a Spell Series

Hi everyone, I know we have a week before the end of the month but I couldn’t wait to gush about this book series I have been reading this past two weeks. Stay A Spell by Juliette Cross is a series of fantasy romance books about 6 sisters and witches in New Orleans and their love lives. The supernatural community in this world has four species witches/warlocks, vampires, grim reapers, and werewolves. The witches also have different abilities with each witch in this series with her own. I will talk more about them in the books. First, the world-building is amazing and we see how New Orleans reacts to magic. Second, the books’ plots are amazing; some take on equality and social issues without bringing the books out of the supernatural and fantasy elements. The series ended with the sixth sister this past month and I wholeheartedly recommend all of them and to read them in order because they give spoilers for the next and previous one. That is the reason why this isn’t a ranking but just talking about them. Also, the ranking this time that I just finished them would be very difficult for me as I love all of them. The reviews of the books are under the cut. I will leave the Goodreads links of the books too.

1.      Wolf Gone Wild (Evie and Mateo): Mateo is a werewolf and Evie is Hex-breaker. The werewolves in this series have become a species through a hex from a witch in the Spanish Civil War and this hex also except turning has made them very creative, so each of them is very good in a type of art. The book starts with Mateo being hexed by someone and him going and finding Evie who can break it. After the meeting, Mateo’s wolf which he can hear in his mind is fascinated so they start a friendship with each other so he can continue to work. The book is full of pop culture and comics as Evie is fascinated by them.

2.      Don’t Drive and Hex (Isadora and Devraj): Isadora is Conduit, a type of healer in the witch community and Devraj is Strygon, a type of a vampire with special abilities. The book starts with Isadora getting hit by Devraj while riding her bike from a friend’s home to her own. He helps her get to her destination where we learn that he is their new next-door neighbor and that he is also a former Bollywood actor with Indian roots. In the beginning, she doesn’t but as the plot thickens and helps the local Overlord, Rubin with a mission in which they need Isadora she learns more about him.

3.      Witches Get Stitches (Nico and Violet): Violet is a Seer and Nico is Mateo’s cousin and a werewolf. Nico and Violet met on New Year’s Eve two years before Nico moved to New Orleans. In the present day, Violet has partnered with him to open a tattoo shop after thinking about the art of spell tattoos some witches can do. In the beginning, we learn that Violet made a telling with tarot cards about her and Nico and because of that, we learn that she decided to just be friends. One of the tattoos she has spelled is about werewolves, so a different pack or gang of wolves wants them too. And all of that give tension to the theme of equality as werewolves are the most misjudged of the species in the supernatural world. It is perfect for those who love to friends romance.

4.      Always Practice Safe Hex (Livvy and Gareth): Livvy or Lavinia her full name is an Influencer and Gareth is a Grimlock, a type of grim reaper. Gareth and Lavinia have hated each other since they met in a contest about their careers as social media managers. They are both in the last step before the announcement of the winner. They are both very competitive but attracted to each other and they have sexual chemistry from the beginning. I love that Gareth is a computer geek and that till this book grim reapers are invisible so that he can tell Livvy all about it as they become more close. I love that they both want to help with equality issues in adoption in the supernatural world and also the werewolf thing from the previous thing. I also that Livvy is Bisexual as all the books have members from the queer community but as background characters. With all of this, we see that this is the perfect enemies-to-lovers romance.

5.      Resting Witch Face (Rubin and Jules): Jules is the oldest sister, a Cyphon, and the Enforcer of New Orleans and Rubin is the Overload of the vampires in New Orleans. We start with the history between the two main characters, which is a lot as I have a complicated relationship. In the present day, they are starting a campaign together, so that they can help the werewolves to have equal rights in the supernatural community. It is also the one that has the most international appeal as we start in New Orleans but we go to Salem and London, and then to Scotland for a masked ball. I love this second-chance romance because it is steamy and also has the funniest plot points of all.

6.      Grim and Bear It (Henry and Clara): Clara is an Aura and Henry is a necromancer, a special type of grim reaper, also Gareth’s cousin. This is the typical pining relationship between two characters so opposite as oil and water but that is what makes it so special to me. Clara is the sunshine thrown into the world and Henry is the typical gloomy character with a heart of gold. The book is about how Clara helps to come into contact with his necromancy magic and be more confident about himself. They also have the best past times with me as they love baking and reading romance books for Clara’s book club. I loved the steamy parts and the rest of it as I believe is very romantic and sweet with the connection they have.