#Conner Kent one shot

[a1307s]

Kinks #2

(Conner Kent Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to evinist]

Requested by: jasontoddloverblog

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6,602

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Slight domestic violence

Cursing

Hickeys/Brusies 

Oral (male and female receiving)

Creampie

Hair Pulling

Choking

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     "Conner, my guy!" Roy yells as he walks into Wally's bedroom. It's been about a month since our last 'boy's night' and Wally decided we need another one. I don't know why we need another one, or the first one to begin with, but I'm still here like I'm supposed to be. Even though I'd much rather be in Y/N's bed with her.

     We've been having the sex. Or sex. We've been having sex. Y/N doesn't like when I call it 'the sex'. She says it ruins the mood when I word it like that. We've been having sex a lot, almost every day.

     Sometimes, usually, when she gets into a fight with someone, we have sex more than once a day. When that happens, it ends up happening somewhere that's not her or my bed. Last time it was on the kitchen counter. I don't enjoy having sex outside of our rooms, but she does so I usually try not to worry about someone seeing us.

     Despite that, until yesterday Y/N wouldn't have sex with me. I kept asking her why and she only told me it would be messy. Her noes only lasted a couple of days so I don't think she was saying no because of me. Her reasoning doesn't make sense to me. It's always messy. We get stuff all over our legs and the bed sheets. I let it be though. Kaldur told me it's important that we both say yes and if one of us says no, then the other needs to leave it be.

     "Roy," I answer back, debating if I should also add a 'my guy'. I decide not to.

     "I hear you've been getting busy!" He cheers, almost singing his statement.

     I think over his statement for a couple of minutes, replaying the last couple of weeks in my head. I don't think anything extra has happened. I've had the same amount of missions and the same amount of repairs to do. "I haven't been any busier than normal," I finally answer, looking at the other hero a bit confused.

     "No, Sups. Busy," he repeats, singing the last word again as he pumps his arms by his waist and moves his hips forward. "You know, with Y/N."

     Once again, I think over his words. Y/N and I have been hanging out more. We watch movies sometimes after sex, or we'll take a bath together, or she'll just lay with me for a while. She calls it 'aftercare' and says it's important for our mental wellbeing. I don't see why it matters. As far as I know, after Robin and Zatanna have sex, Zatanna just leaves. But it makes Y/N happy, so I do it. It makes me happy too, I just don't understand why we need to do it. I like spending time with her, so I don't care what we're doing as long as I'm doing it with her.

     "I guess so. We've been watching movies together," I answer, assuming that's what he means.

     "You crack me up, Bud" Roy says, his words followed with a chuckle before he sits next to Kaldur on the ground.

     "Sup, my guy, my man!" Wally calls, walking up to me and placing his hands on my shoulders. "Roy is talking about you having sex with Y/N," he tells me, shaking me a bit as he speaks.

     "You guys know about that?" I ask, still being shaken around by my teammate.

     "Yes, we do. You're not exactly hiding it," Robin says, his usual smirk on his face. "Y/N's been pretty open about her hand necklace."

     "Her what?" I ask, confused once again. I'm starting to hate these 'boy's nights'. They also end with me being confused about stuff.

     "Bla, bla, bla. Enough pitter-patter. I want details!" Roy says, waving off my question. "Does she give good head?"

     "Does she taste good?"

     "Did she let you creampie her?"

     "Is Y/N your girlfriend now?"

     "Is she a moaner or a screamer?"

     "Does she look hot in doggie style?"

     "What's her body count?"

     "I bet her titties look good when she rides you. Are they soft?"

     Questions are thrown at me from all directions, and from all the teammates - well, besides Kaldur. All the noise is upsetting me. Their questions make no sense, making me even more confused. Besides, who gives them the right to ask those questions? To know the answers to those questions? Y/N is having sex with me, not them. That must mean something, right? Maybe she is having sex with them.

     More questions are asked as I stand up and walk out of the room. I don't have the patience for this. I need to calm down before I hurt someone. I don't like them asking those questions about Y/N. I don't like them wanting to know the answers either.

     I especially don't like the idea that Roy might already know the answers. The idea that Robin or Kaldur or Wally might already know. They want to have sex with her too, right? Why else would they care? Why else would they ask? It makes me angry to think about them doing those things to Y/N. Thinking about them making her sound the way I do. I have sex with Y/N, she makes those sounds for me, not them.

     Some of the guys call after me as I walk off but I ignore them. Canary's voice reminding me to take my frustration out on my punching bag fills my head. Punch the bag, not the people. Punch the bag, not the walls. Punch the bag. Punch the bag. Punch the bag.

————————————

      "Con?" Y/N's voice calls from the doorway. It's soft enough that the sound of my fist making contact with the leather almost drowns it out. I ignore her, hoping she'll go away. Hoping that if she goes away maybe some of my anger will go with her.

     She doesn't leave though. Instead, Y/N walks through the garage, stopping right behind me. Don't do it. Do not touch me. I swear, do not poke the bear.

     "Con?" She calls again, placing her hands lightly on my shoulders.

     Before I can stop myself, I turn around, grab a fist full of her hair, and snap her head back. Y/N's nails dig into my shoulders as she looks up at me, her eyes brimmed with tears as they look sharply at me. Her jaw is locked tight as she clenches her teeth.

     "What do you think you're doing? What? Did Roy, and Wally, and Robin, and everyone say no to sex so you're here to ask me?" I snap out, my anger bubbling over despite my attempt to take it out on the punching bag.

     "Conner, you're hurting me," Y/N says, her voice calm and even. Despite that, I can still hear the undertone of fear in her words. Her heartbeat is faster than usual in my ears and unwilling tears slide down her face, adding to the evidence of fear in her.

     We stay like this for a beat, her digging into my shoulders and me glaring down at her as I hold her in place by her hair. Once my senses come to me, I let go of her hair and gently slide my fingers over her scalp, massaging it softly. "I'm sorry," I murmur, glancing down at her before focusing on my fingers.

     As soon as she's released, Y/N grips my jaw, tugging my head down so I'm looking at her. Her eyes are still watery, but harder than before as she looks at me. Anger is written all over her face. "If you ever touch me like that in anger again, you will never hear from me. You will never see me again. It'll be like I never existed in your life; do you understand me? What the fuck is wrong with you, Conner?"

     I stay silent, blinking as I look down at her. Her words roll around in my head on repeat. The situation a second ago does so too. How could I hurt Y/N? How could I use something intimate between us to hurt her? How could I lay my hands on her? Yell at her for stuff I don't even know if she did or didn't do?

     "I... I'm sorry... I didn't... I got in my head."

     Y/N stays silent, her nails still digging into my jawline as she chews on the inside of her cheek. "That is not an excuse for hurting me... but, what are you in your head about?"

     "A lot... the other boys... they know we're..." I glance away from her face, trying to urge the words out of me. Even though Y/N and I are intimate, it's still difficult to talk about, even with her. It's especially hard to talk about it with others, even Canary.

     "Well, duh, Conner. You leave fingerprints on my neck, and I tend to leave hickeys on yours. People are going to know." Y/N's hand drops from my face, making me a bit sad. I like when she's touching me, even if she's mad.

     "Oh," I mumble, looking over her neck. She's right, my fingers have left dark outlines on her throat. "They kept asking questions... about you and... I don't know why. Are you having sex with them too?" The words make my stomach feel like it's filled with stones. I don't like asking that question, but I need to know.

     "That's just what guys do. They like talking about sex. It gives them new ideas of what to do with their partners or whatever. It doesn't mean anything. They're just acting like normal people. And God no. The only person I'm having sex with is you. Are you having sex with anyone else?"

     Y/N's face is hard once the question is out, making me worried. "No," I answer shortly. It's weird that it's normal for guys to talk about sex, but it does put my mind at ease. It's not because it's Y/N, it's because I'm having sex. Knowing she's not having sex with anyone else also makes me feel good. I'm still special to her. "I have questions," I add, watching her face soften at my answer.

     "What are your questions, Con?" She asks, walking past me.

     I watch as she heads over to my workbench and lifts herself onto it. She always sits on my workbench when we're in here together. It's another thing that makes me feel special.

    "What is 'good head'?" I ask, walking over to her. I gently push her legs apart, watching for her reaction. She stays still for a second but does end up looping her arms around my shoulders, letting me know it's okay to stand between her legs. I happily push my way against her, sliding my hands over her legs and holding them against my hips. Her vagina is pressed into my groin, making my head start to fill with the idea of sex.

     "Well, head is having your genitals sucked and licked and such. 'Good head' just means it's enjoyable," she answers, playing with the ends of my hair as she tightens her legs around me. Maybe she is thinking about sex too. The idea of having it here, on my workbench, feels nice. It's a weird thought since I don't like doing it out of our rooms, but the idea makes me warm up.

     "How would that work? You giving me head?" I ask, trying to make sense of her answer and push down my thoughts until all my questions are answered. "If I were to give you this head, would that be me knowing what you taste like?"

     Y/N giggles a little, tipping her head down and pressing kisses into my cheeks. "Yes, you would know what I taste like, and if you finish in my mouth, I will know what you taste like." The idea of getting to taste her doesn't help the thoughts stop. I really want to know what she tastes like. 

     "Oh, okay... what is a creampie?"

     Her lips stop for a second before she gently continues along my jaw. "A creampie just means you cum inside me instead of on me."

     "But that would get you pregnant."

     She hums softly, placing another kiss before tipping her head back up to look at me. "Usually yes, but there's pills and such you can take to stop from getting pregnant. There's birth control but that takes a month or so to work. Or there's Plan B but you shouldn't take it often."

     I roll the answer over to make sure it makes sense. It does. It's just medication to stop a baby from forming. That makes sense. I want to creampie her too. I want to see what it would look like. I want to do all these new things to her. I want to know even newer things I can do to her.

     "What's a hand necklace?"

     "It's just a kind of nickname for the bruises you leave on my neck," she answers, loosely twirling my hair around her fingertips.

     "What's a body count?"

     "The amount of people you've had sex with."

     I think of the answer for a couple of minutes, leaving the room silent. "What's your body count?" I ask before I can stop myself. I probably shouldn't have asked that. It'll only make me angry again.

     "Two, counting you," she answers, once again making me think. Who else has she had sex with? Was it someone on the team? Was it Roy? I don't think I want to know. No, I don't want to know.

     "What's doggie style?"

     "I'll show you next time we have sex." I don't like that answer. I want to know now. Why won't she tell me now?

     "Can we have sex now?" I ask, deciding to no longer ignore the growing pressure in my groin.

     Y/N's face snaps from being soft, back to being filled with anger. "You just put your fucking hands on me and still have the audacity to ask for sex? What the fuck Conner? Get the fuck off me," she yells, shoving me away from her. I obey, backing away from her, confusion swimming around my head again today. What did I do? I know I hurt her, but what does that have to do with us having sex? We've gotten in fights before and still had sex.

     I watch as Y/N hops off the workbench and storms out of the room. I made her really mad, I just wish I knew how I managed to do that. I probably shouldn't ask right now though. I glance around the garage, looking for something to work as a distraction so she'll have time to cool down. I'll fix up Robin's bike as I wait.

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     It's been a couple of days since I managed to piss off Y/N. She's ignored me the whole time, which hasn't been easy. Well, until today. She told me good morning and let me kiss her cheek, so I thought we were making progress, but she did move away when I tried to hold her waist. Maybe I'm not making progress on her forgiving me.

     I've talked about the situation with Canary in my alternating sessions. I had a session yesterday, so I won't have another until tomorrow. Canary said when I hurt Y/N, I betrayed her trust. She also said I probably 'made Y/N feel used' when I asked for sex right after. That makes sense now, but in the situation, it didn't. I wish she'd just talk to me so I can fix it.

     We haven't had sex since the day of the blow-up, which has left me feeling very needy. Canary recommended 'doing it myself' but I don't like that idea. It doesn't feel the same as having sex with Y/N. Despite that, I'm laid in bed debating whether to do it myself. I need to let it out, but I want Y/N to let it out. I put myself in a bad situation.

     Just as I go to undo my pants, there's a knock on the door. I sigh a bit at the sound. I'm just going to have to wait for Y/N to make me feel good again. 

     "Come in!" I call, sitting up straight. I have to shift a bit to hide my personal problem, making myself a bit uncomfortable.

     The door swings open, Y/N filling in the now open frame, in an outfit that's not helping my situation. She's in a pair of PJ shorts and a tank top, showing the bruises I have left on her. I blink a couple of times, trying to figure out if I'm going crazy or if she just happens to be here at this moment.

     "I'm still mad at you," she hisses, her look pointed as she stares at me.

     "I know. I'm sorry," I answer back, trying to push down the tension in my pants and the thoughts of her on top of me. I probably shouldn't want sex this much, even if Canary says it's normal for my bodily age.

     "But," Y/N says, walking into the room and closing the door behind her. That doesn't help my situation either. It's getting really hard not to ask for sex again. "I am horny, and I want sex."

     "Me too," I race out a lot faster than I meant to. That gets me another pointed look, but her body stays relaxed. I'll take that as a good sign. "Can... we try head?" I ask carefully, trying not to upset Y/N any more than she already is. I want sex and she does too, I don't need her storming off when I'm finally getting what I've been craving.

     She thinks it over for a second before walking up to my bed. "I suppose so," she answers, her tone slightly softer but still a little pissed. Y/N drops to her knees on the side of my bed, shooting sparks of hormones up my spine. Her boobs look nice, all propped up as she kneels. "You're going to need to shift so I'm between your legs."

     I obey her, moving so my thighs are gently pressed on either side of her shoulders. I really like looking at Y/N like this. She looks so small, though that's more so me being built like a brick than her body type. I want to touch her boobs, see if they're soft like Robin asked. 

     Y/N's hands feel nice as they work on unbuttoning my pants and they feel warm as she gently runs her fingers across my boxers, her other hand laid against my thigh. I let my eyes flutter shut as I focus on my breathing, Y/N's fingers sliding up and down my clothed cock is not helping with that. After going so long without her touching me, it feels like I'm going to finish just from these small touches. She rubs me a few more times before my boxers are pulled down and pooled at my ankles alongside my pants.

     I slowly open my eyes again, noises stuck in my throat as Y/N starts running her fingers over my bare cock. Somehow, she feels even warmer now. I watch as she slightly parts her lips, her tongue sliding out as her head ducks down. It doesn't take long for her tongue to come in contact with me, the soft muscle running over the slit of my dick as her hand works up and down my shaft.

     Y/N's head tilts up some as she continues licking the head, her eyes soft as she looks at me. I open my mouth to say something, to beg her to not look at me like this or I'm going to finish too soon, but I get cut off. Her tongue slides further down, the tip of my penis pushing her lips open as she takes it into her mouth. Instead of my begs, a moan slips out, my head tilts back, and my hands ball up the bedding under me. Y/N's tongue circles around me, sliding up and down as she moves, but refuses to take more of me into her mouth. 

     Her mouth feels warm and smooth, just like the inside of her vagina, but slightly looser. Y/N moves up and down a couple of times before pulling away, her hand still working on pushing me closer to my release. I groin at the lost warmth and flip my head back up. "If you're not going to look at me, I'm not going to suck your dick, you understand me?" Y/N asks, a small smirk on her lips as she looks at me with those same big, teasing eyes.

     "Yes, Ma'am," I breathe out, my hands shaking as I reach for her. I go to slide my hands into her hair, but Y/N shifts away from me.

     "Absolutely not. You pull my hair once and you can jack yourself off," Y/N hisses, the teasing replaced by anger as she looks at me. I glance away from her, dropping my hands down to her cheeks instead before looking back at her face. Y/N moves her hand a couple more times, her eyes slowly shifting back to their teasing tone before her mouth is back on me. This time she goes lower, about halfway down me. 

     Groins and her name stumble out of me as Y/N bobs her head up and down, her hand following after her mouth over the next few minutes. Not once does her mouth pull fully off of me, leaving me wrapped in warmth. I rub soft circles into her skin, trying to calm myself down. It doesn't work though, all of it shoves me closer to my release faster than I want it to. Y/N's mouth, her hand, the feeling of her drool sliding down my shaft and pooling on my balls, the sloppy sound of me moving in and out of her mouth, is all too much, it's pushing me forward too fast. 

     Her eyes constantly scanning my face don't help either. They're watery but still soft, her pupils still blown out as she looks at me. I feel my muscles tighten, my hand automatically sliding down and softly wrapping around her throat. Y/N's other hand slides off its place on my thigh and dipping down to my balls. Her fingertips are soft as they massage me, this little act pushing me even closer.

     "Y/N..." I breathe out, my hand tightening on her throat. Her eyes stay locked on me as she slides all the way down my shaft. I can feel myself slide down her throat, new parts of me getting to feel the warmth of her mouth. Y/N's nose bumps into my stomach, her mouth and throat muscles working to suck on me as her fingers continue to massage my sack. When the sound of her gagging reaches my ears, it pushes me over the edge. It feels like she's sucking my cum right out of me. I groin again, my chest heaving, and my eyes snapping shut as I release down her throat.

     We stay still, my hand still around Y/N's throat and her throat muscles still wrapping and unwrapping around my penis resting down her throat, gags still spilling out of her. It feels like electricity is speeding through me as Y/N's muscles unwillingly rub against my sensitive dick. I slowly pull myself out of her throat, my gaze focused on her as she gasps for air. "That... that was... really good," I murmur, softly rubbing the skin I was previously squeezing.

     "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Y/N pushes out in between huffs of air. Her head tilts down, her forehead resting against my thigh as she catches her breath.

     "Can you show me how to give you head?" I ask, gently patting the side of the bed. I want to run my hands through her hair, but she's not okay with me touching it yet, which is okay. I know she doesn't fully trust me after my actions the other day. I don't blame her for not fully trusting me.

     "Ya," Y/N answers shortly, staying on the ground for a beat before standing up. I watch as she crawls on my bed, laying herself on her back with her legs open. "Take your shirt off... please," she orders, which I obey, sliding my shirt off and kicking the rest of my clothes off my ankles. 

     "Now what do I do?"

     "You need to kneel on the ground like I was earlier."

     Once again, I listen, placing myself in Y/N's previous spot. When I'm set, she shifts again, sliding down the bed so her knees are resting on my shoulders and her legs dangling down my back. "So, now you tease me some. Kissing the inside of my thighs, running your fingers over my clothed pussy, all that stuff."

     "What's a pussy?" I ask, glancing up at her before littering soft kisses over the exposed parts of her thighs.

     "It's another word for a vagina," she answers, her hands sliding into my hair and gently twirling it around. 

     "Oh," I hum, glancing at her again before feathering my fingers over her like she did to my boxers. Y/N's thighs shift a bit, letting me know she likes my touches. "Can I take your shorts off?" I ask, slithering my tongue out and rubbing it against her flesh. Her tongue felt nice against my skin, so it should feel good against hers. I hope.

     "Yes," Y/N answers, her breath a bit heavier and her fingers tighter on the ends of my hair.

     Her answer starts my dick up again, a rush of blood running through me. I take my time, slowly sliding the material down her body. I have to move a bit to take them off, but I don't mind since Y/N's legs are right back in place afterward. Her panties have a small wet spot, another good sign. I let my fingers go back to their placement, this time rubbing soft circles into the spot. This gets me a few moans. I watch her attentively, rolling over her reactions at different spots I touch.  

     "I want to feel your tongue," Y/N says, a bit of a whine following her words. I like it when she whines, it means I'm making her feel good. I listen to her, going back to sliding my tongue over her thighs. "No," she whines again, using my hair to pull my head up some, my nose hovering over the growing wet spot. 

     I glance at her for direction, but her head is tilted back, giving me no reaction other than her chest pumping a little faster than normal. I continue my circles for a beat before sliding my tongue out again, this time sliding it over her clothed pussy. This gets me a sharp moan, a needy moan. The same moan I get right before I push myself inside her. I continue my licks, trying to remember what all the guys said about giving head and 'eating pussy' at the first 'boy's night' since Y/N isn't giving me much direction. I guess I'm going to have to rely on trial and error.

     Y/N's thighs get closer and closer to the side of my face before they're gently rested against my head. "I want to taste you," I voice, letting my fingers slide up to the waistband of her panties.

     This gets me a tighter grip of her thighs against me. "Please?" Y/N begs, her thighs releasing me a bit. "Please eat me out."

     I blink at her a few times, my fingers skirting under her waistband as I work out her words. I'm going to assume she means eat out her pussy. I'm pretty sure that's what she means. I tug her panties down, slowly, before moving around again to pull them fully off. Once Y/N is back in place, she shifts forward, moving her vagina closer to my face. It's hard to see it, so I gently push her legs open.

     I stay still, looking her over. I've never really looked at this part of her. It's weird to think this is the part of her that makes me feel so good. "Stop staring," Y/N says, gently pushing my head down. She must be really needy. I ignore her command, keeping my eyes open as I get closer to her intimate parts. 

     "What do I do?" I ask, now barely an inch away from her.

     "Lick me, fuck me with your tongue, suck on me, I don't care, Con. Just make me feel good," she whines, tugging on the ends of my hair. That's a little helpful, but not as much as I wish she would be. I slide my tongue out again, slowly moving it from her hole up the rest of her. When I get to the top of her vagina, Y/N lets out a low moan and tugs on my hair. That must be a nice spot for her then.

     I lick the spot a couple more times, Y/N's thighs tightening on me each time I do so. Yes, this is a good spot. I listen to another one of her requests, shifting closer so I can suck on her. "Fuck, Conner," she whines as I suck on her skin, her thighs permanently locked around me now. "You... I need... your fingers inside me," she pushes out, soft moans and heavy breaths breaking up her words. 

     That is a very vague statement. It takes a second for me to figure out what she means, but I do get to an answer. I walked in on Y/N's fingers inside herself before, inside her vagina, so I think that's what she means. I go to push three fingers in like I saw her doing, but she cuts me off. "Hey, hey, hey! Only one until I'm stretched a bit," she says, shifting away from me.

     That makes me a bit upset. I'm enjoying making her feel good, but I can't do that if she moves away. I work one finger into her, pulling her back in place so I can focus on sucking and licking her nice spot. I pump my finger in and out of her a few times before adding a second one. This gets me a buck of her hips and another hair pull. "Con... Con, Con, Con," she almost sings.

     I tug my eyes away from her pussy, looking back up at her. Y/N's back is arched a bit, pushing her boobs up and her head further back. I like when she does this, it means I'm making her feel good. It also usually means she'll start tightening around me. "Can... Can... you curl your... Con," Y/N starts her new request but cuts herself off by moaning my name.

     I try curling my tongue against her but don't get a response. Must be the wrong thing to curl. I go back to licking her good spot, which has started to harden a bit. This time I try curling my fingers. That gets me a good response. Y/N arches her back more, my name pulled out in a whine again. I continue curling my fingers in her, the feeling of her puffy flesh against my fingers instead of my penis for once. I go to pull my fingers out of her, but Y/N's hips move down after me. "Hey," she stutters out, the word drawn out, and her walls tightening around my fingertips.

     I smile a bit at that. When Y/N starts tightening it means she's going to cum soon, which means I'm going to get to taste her. I give her what she wants, my fingers curling against her. I keep my eyes locked on her chest, watching it heave for air as I make her feel good. "Conner," she calls again, her legs squeezing my face and her pussy squeezing my fingers. I let my eyes drop down, watching as her cum spills out onto her thighs and my bed. 

     This makes me happy. I get to taste her. I softly tug my fingers out of her, wrapping my hands around her thighs before dipping my head down to her opening. "Con, please, fuck," once again, Y/N cuts herself off when I dip my tongue into her. I circle it around her, licking up all her juices. My penis pulses as I slurp Y/N's cum up, letting the mix of salty and sweet overtake my taste buds. She tastes good, really good. I understand why I was asked how she tastes.

     "Please make me feel good," Y/N begs, trying to pull me up by my hair again.

     "I don't know how you want me to do that," I answer back quickly, going back to licking her clean. I would be content doing this all day long. Y/N tastes nice, she looks pretty arched up and wrapped around me, and she sounds pretty begging me to make her feel good.

     "Please fuck me. I want you inside me," Y/N whines, trying to pull me up her body again. Reluctantly, I let her tug me up her body. My dick is pressed against her thigh, my arms on either side of her head, and my chest hovering over hers. I want to feel her chest, I want to know if her boobs are soft.

     "I want to touch your boobs," I say, glancing at her before looking back at her chest.

     "Fine, fine, just get inside me," Y/N says, her hands dropping to my hips and shifting me over. My dick slides against her, the warmth from her rolling against me as my tip snags on her hole. Y/N's nails dig into me as she pushes me forward, trying to stuff herself full of me. Once again, I give in, letting myself slide into her as I work her tank top up and over her head. 

     Her boobs spill out, no bra under her top to hold them in place. I'm gentle as I cup them in my hands, her nipples hard against my palms. Her skin is soft under my touch, her pussy already squeezing around me. "I want to creampie you too," I tell her, dipping my head down to press a kiss against her lips.

     Y/N is eager as she kisses me back, her hands sliding up my back and her nails digging into my shoulder blades. I squeeze her boobs softly as our lips slide against one another. The feeling of them leaking through my fingers makes my dick pulse again. When we pull apart, I work on littering her neck with kisses, my fingers tightening and releasing her boobs time and time again.

     "If I say yes, will you fuck me?" She whines, trying to move her hips from under me. It doesn't work very well, giving her minimum friction and giving me a disappointed whine from the girl under me.

     "I'll have sex with you either way," I answer, dropping my hands from her chest to her hips. I move her slowly, helping her hips meet mine as I start thrusting in and out of her. "I just want to see what it'll look like."

     "Yes, yes, fine, cum in me, Con," Y/N answers, her chest still heaving, causing her chest to come in contact with mine when she breathes in. "Please move faster."

     I do as I'm told, picking up my past and moving her faster under me. Y/N's nails dig in deeper, sliding up and down my back as I move her. These touches hurt, but somehow also push me toward a second release. "I'm not... I'm going to finish soon," I murmur, letting my head rest against her shoulder.

     "No," she whines, tugging on me, her nails sliding to the sides instead of down my skin. "Con, I need you to move faster. I want to cum again."

     One of her hands slides down my shoulder, my arm, and wraps around my wrist. She tugs my hand off her hip, shifting it down. "I don't know what you want me to do," I tell her, slowing my movements and trying to focus on my breath. I want to last longer, I want to make Y/N feel good for longer, and I want her to release again too.

     "I want... I want you to rub my clit."

     "What's a clit?" I ask, dipping my fingers down and rubbing the good spot I was sucking and licking earlier.

     "That," Y/N breathes out, her hands back in their previous place. Oh, the good spot is called a clit. Whines tumble out of her, nails dug into my skin, and her pussy tightening around me. "Please move faster," she begs again. This time I listen, picking up the pace of my hips and my fingers. A few thrusts in, Y/N is singing my name again. I like it when she says it like this, when I'm in her, when she's whiney with needs I only fix for her. "Conner!" She whines, her back arching again.

     I look down at the spot where we're joined. Like earlier, Y/N's juices spill out, this time coating both of us instead of just herself. Her fingers go gentle against my skin, her arching falling back down. Her needs have been met so now I can focus on finishing inside her. It doesn't take long, another two or three thrusts. When I feel my release start, I thrust in, pushing every inch as far into Y/N as I can. "Conner," she whines, her nails digging into me a bit before going gentle again.

     "Y/N," I call back gently, letting my forehead rest against hers. Her eyes are soft, not the teasing soft but a sleepy, spent-out soft. We stay like this, even after I'm finished, the sound of our heavy breathing filling the space.

     After a couple of minutes, I shift, lifting myself off of her and slowly pulling out. Y/N's hands slide up me, rooting themselves in my hair again as I duck down. My head rests against her thigh as I tug her legs open, putting her on full display. Y/N looks so pretty with the white of my semen pooled in her and slowly spilling out. She goes to close her legs, but I tug them back open. "I want to watch," I tell her glancing up at her. 

     Her cheeks are bright red and her eyes a little wide as she looks down at me. Y/N doesn't say anything, just lays back down and lets her legs rest open. I turn my attention back to my mess and continue to watch it spill out. What doesn't spill out slides down deeper into Y/N, causing my dick to twitch again. "I think you should go on the baby medication," I say, glancing at her again.

     "Why?" She asks, sleepiness coating her words.

     "I like to creampie you. I like to watch it seep into you." 

     Y/N's thighs shift some, bumping against my face before falling open again. "Ya, okay, I'll go on the pill," she finally answers, bumping her legs against me again. I smile to myself, turning back to my new entertainment. I'm going to get to creampie Y/N every time we have sex. Maybe she'll let me creampie her again today. "I want to take a nap," she says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

     "Okay," I answer, looking at her pussy for another beat before curling up the bed. We'll take a nap, and then I'll have sex with her again.

———————————————————————

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Boys VS Girls (Part 2)

"Todays mission objective: Interrogation."

Said Batman and you all shared glances

Ever since Batman had gotten wind of your little contests, he began incorporating it into mock missions

Once you were diffusing bombs

Another time you were simulating fire rescue procedures

And it seemed today, you would be interrogating each other

"Boys. You need to find out about: The Secret."

You all froze

The secret

It was the best kept secret that the girls had kept

You refused to tell anyone about it

Swearing that you'd each take it to your graves

Even when your boyfriend, Nightwing, had pleaded you kept a firm no

Which was quite an accomplishment honestly

Considering you had to turn down his sweet begging eyes

They had to admit that you all looked quite adorable with blood drained faces and discomfort

"B that's so cruel! Even for you!"

The reason all of you were so scared was because last week, it had been the girls who were interrogating the boys

Needless to say you did NOT go easy on them

Long story short, they were separated to cut the weak ones out

Wally was starved

Kaldur was put into a warm room

Conner was placed into highly stimulating room

And once again, Nightwing was avoided like the plague

He had already received his own training from B

So all you had to do was check up on him and make sure he hadn't escaped

While also giving him food and some cuddles

You could only hope he would return the gesture

But you could tell by the evil smirk on his face that you were dreaming too big

This would take all your strength

All your determination

And all the mental strength you had

And so you found yourself in a dark room with your hands bound to the chair

And in entered Wally and Nightwing

"Uncomfortable, are you?"

"Quite uncomfortable considering Artemis told me you have a thing for ropes."

Wally might as well have burst into flames then and there

Nightwing narrowed his eyes at him before turning to you

"Last chance to tell us babe. Before we actually have to do something you'll regret."

You scoffed

"I'm not scared of you two and I know that you're not gonna do anything that might actually hurt me. So why don't you just stop right here before you do something you'll regret."

You smirked and glanced at your boyfriend

"We both know I can hold a grudge."

That had his cocky smile slipping off his face

"Yeah, I'm out."

"WHAT? YOU'RE SUCH A SIMP!"

"I'M PROTECTING MY OWN INTERESTS!"

"PLEASE YOU JUST WANT TO GET LAID!"

"I'M INTERESTED IN THAT!"

You glanced at Wally

"Wanna try again?"

There was absolutely no chance they were getting you to spill

But just because Dick didn't want to get on your bad side

Didn't mean he was not afraid of poking the bear

The others got grilled for hours

So four hours later you were gathered back into the training room with Batman

They had very much targeted your weak link M'Gann

Once you saw her come in with that apologetic look on her face, you knew you had lost

They smirked at you, turning to Batman

"The secret is that Artemis didn't actually like Wally romantically until 2 months into their relationship."

A slow grin spread on all your faces when you turned to M'Gann who had a victorious smile on her face

You squealed in happiness, hugging her

"That's a secret but it's not the secret." Said M'Gann, cool as a cucumber

They groaned, accepting defeat

"I blame nightwing."

Your boyfriend glared at you and you returned it with a wink

"You're the worst."

It was then that Dinah decided to come into the room

Terrible timing

And it seemed she had heard only the end of this conversation

And immediately jumped to conclusions

"Don't be mad Nightwing. It's not like she stripped with him."

Utter silence

You could hear each and everyone's breathing

The girls looked absolutely mortified

The boys looked shocked af

Nightwing looked like you might as well have punched him

And even Batman looked confused

You hid your face in your hands to avoid the frown on his face

"Explain. Now."

It was then Dinah realized that she had made a mistake

"The guys lost, didn't they?"

You opened your mouth but all the words died in her throat when you saw the glare he was sending you

"Don't be mad at her Nightwing. She did it for me."-Zatanna

"And it was my idea."-Artemis

"Guys, it's okay."

You took a deep breath, shrinking at his gaze

"You remember Zatanna's shitty ex-boyfriend?"

"The one who cheated on her and took every available opportunity to hit on you? Vaguely."

Oh boy, he was really pissed

"Well, after he cheated on her, she wanted to get back at him. So I dmed him on insta and asked if he wanted to 'netflix and chill'."

You were really not improving your case

And with each word he just frowned deeper

You just hoped he wouldn't be too upset with you

You avoided the guys gazes as well

Although you could feel it burning your face

If Conner had laser vision like Clark, you're unsure what would even happen to you

"Long story short. I drove him up with me to makeout point and then left him there in nothing but his underwear until his mother came to pick him up. I didn't do anything though! And I sanitized and exorcised the car as soon as this was done."

Dick looked offended

"You let someone else take their clothes off in front of you?!"

You looked down, pouting at your lap

"I was there to take pictures." - M'Gann

"And I blocked the other path so if anyone wanted to leave they'd have to drive past him crying in his underwear." -Artemis

"And I was there with another guy to show him what he missed." - Zatanna

If they were being honest

They were kind of scared of all of you

Wally and Conner shared a glance

Is this their fate if they ever managed to piss them off enough?

You put on your best puppy dog eyes and the kind of pout that you knew had his knees weak

"Don't be mad? It was just a prank."

He looked unimpressed

"We're talking about this when we get home."

Uh-oh you know what that meant

You sighed, shooting a glare at Dinah from the corner of your eye

She smiled apologetically and averted her gaze

"I'm so telling Oliver about that time you got pulled over."

"Tell him and I'm telling about the incident at the last mission." - Dinah

"Why are you bringing me into this!? If anything it should be about the abs thing since it was Artemis' idea!" - M'Gann

You all froze

And then turned back to the boys

"There are more secrets?"

You all shut your mouths

They shared a glance before smirking

"In the mood for another interrogation?"

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@hanbedumbaf

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

[calystacat]

Summary:

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you everything. You’re from a world where Clark wasn’t so nice to me at first, no?”

“Er… yeah, you could say that.”

“Well, here, he was cordial. Not really cold, but not really family either. But I was lucky to find someone who became family for me.”

“Oh, nice. Who was that?”

Kon smiled even more and took one of Tim’s hands in his. "You, Tim. Well, not really you, my Tim, living here. Timmy pulled a Batman. I'm Conner Drake now."

-

Tim just wanted a coffee before a WE meeting and got far more than expected when he went through a random portal.

[nothesunisadeadlylazer]

Can y'all gimme some soft Timkon fics?

Like there little to no angst and Tim and Kon are just in love? Like they are just so in love and happy??

[sexy-n-stressed]

Deck the halls (Conner Kent X Male Reader one shot)

A/N: Hi everyone, so, this will be my first post on writing Tumblr, and a bit of a pivot for me. I have a history of writing fanfiction, but have decided to start writing one-shots (and smut….soon…) as I am terrible at committing to full-length stories. This is just a quick story, which I'm planning to follow up with in the next part. Also, it's Christmas for me today so yay fluffy Christmas?

Also, most if not all of my stories will be male readers, as I am a male and want to make stories for people like me who have struggled to find stories like this with male representation. That being said, all gender identities are allowed to interact with my stories, and I may accept female reader requests. So fire away!

Please send me story requests, and follow and comment so I know you're reading! Thank you!

Side note, in my version of things, Conner’s introduction happens like that of young justice but a fair bit later, meaning Dick Grayson is grown etc while Conner is still freshly….minted?

————————————————————

Christmas was a time of snow, cheesy movies and overplayed sellout Christmas albums. And, as Y/N would find out, boys. Specifically Conner Kent.

The holiday had started innocently, with the newest adopted son of Bruce Wayne being invited along to a combined lunch with the Kent family, which was also apparently the family of Superman. Being adopted into a wealthy socialite family was one thing, especially after bouncing around the foster system among families in the Narrows, Gotham's seedy underbelly. Being adopted into the Batfamily was something else entirely.

With the whole new host of Vigilante siblings and father, came an immense amount of pressure to live up to the moral standard they had set. Between attending Galas, etiquette training, crime fighting and fitting into a family of ‘misfit’ angsty superheroes, the chances of failure kept building and it was obvious that everything was doomed to come crashing down.

Lately, you had been missing training sessions, forgetting to show up for the rich socialite events Bruce was forced to attend, even the ones in your own home, which was more of a haunted house anyway.

It was obvious that Bruce was less than happy, disappointed even in your behaviour, though he wouldn't voice it. Having just been adopted into the family meant that everyone was still walking on eggshells around you, not paying you much mind when you both were and weren't present, only engaging in simple small talk. It wasn't necessarily their fault, you had made no real effort to reach out or connect. A side effect of an unstable home life you guessed.

Arriving at the Kent family farm was like a deep breath. There were no looming crystal chandeliers, no extravagant staircases or dining tables and absolutely no overbearing elitists. You felt free among the cutesy knick-knacks and homemade furniture.

“Welcome!” A warm voice beamed as the thick oak door creaked open, laced with a typical southern drawl one would expect around these parts. The voice belonged to Clark’s mother, or ma as she liked to be called. A southern thing you assumed.

As greetings and gifts between the two initially standoffish families took place, a firm hand was pointed in your direction. Quickly shaking it, you remembered to force eye contact with Clark, or, Mr.Kent as you would confusingly call both him and his father for the rest of the gathering, regardless of any request to “Please, call me Clark”

The sturdy man emitted a soothing warmth, both from his comforting personality and from the literal solar warmth the man contained, powering his God-like abilities. It may have been snowing, but the Kent’s felt like a warm sunburst in the backdrop of a picturesque photograph.

Clark made a comment about speaking to you more later in the evening, most likely welcoming you into the family and wider network of connections Bruce held, and swept away to greet his other guests while preparing the most likely gargantuan amount of food about to be consumed.

Eyes sweeping the room, you looked for somebody to strike up a conversation with, both to follow the etiquette training rules of sociability and to escape an awkward, overbearing conversation with the more intense few present, such as Ma Kent. While you held absolutely nothing against the woman, her booming laugh and exaggerated body movements made you almost queasy with nerves.

You weren't waiting long though, as the boy you guessed to be Conner Kent, who you had been told not to ask about his relation to the Kents for some reason, dropped a cartoonishly large crate of apples behind you, with the stragglers rolling off into every direction.

Dropping to the floor, you began helping the boy gather the fallen produce, heaving armfuls of the crisp red apples back into the crate.

He seemed mad, muttering words you assumed to be swears under his breath as he practically threw the apples back into the crate, bruising them.

“At least it wasn’t eggs?” You awkwardly interjected. He stared at you silently, for what felt like an hour, before lightly chuckling.

“What?” The boy stared blankly at you, seemingly not understanding the joke.

“Well because if it was eggs then they would… break, y’know?”

“Oh!” He burst into laughter at the explanation, somehow enjoying the joke.

Still laughing, he stood up, brushing off his knees before extending a hand towards you. “I'm, uh, Conner..”

He subtly cringed as he spoke, stopping himself from saying the word Kent. You understood that all too well, not feeling right calling yourself a Wayne.

“I'm Y/N…” Your avoidance of the word Wayne seemed to strike a cord within him, and the two of you felt instantly closer. Shaking hands with Conner was like playing a thumb war with a gorilla. He seemed to force himself to subdue the intense Kryptonian strength he possessed.

“Thank you for your help” Conner spoke, standing uncomfortably in a way that suggested he was unfamiliar with social interaction. You, on the other hand, were just uncomfortable with it.

“You’re welcome.” came the awkward reply. “Need a hand with that?” gesturing towards the large apple crate. Did you seriously just ask a Kryptonian if they needed help lifting something? You were already blowing this lunch.

“Why would I need a hand? I have two” Conner confusedly responded, looking down at his hands to confirm he did, in fact, have both.

“No, like, help lifting that.” You once again pointed to the apple crate.

“Oh,” He sounded dejected, clearly upset with himself for misinterpreting that.

“No, no it's my fault. That didn't make any sense” you quickly spoke, moving towards Conner and beginning to lift the crate, to which he effortlessly heaved it into the air. You would feel embarrassed if the endearing tensing of his back and arm muscles wasn't completely distracting you.

The two of you walked the crate to the kitchen, as Ma gleefully rubbed her hands together while mumbling about making apple pie better than someone named Dolores ever could. The murderous glint in her eye told you she was not playing about her apple pie.

“Ma really likes her apple pie” Conner explained as you exited the kitchen. He stopped, before turning to you with an excited look.

“Would you like to see my room?”

A/N: Y/N may have W rizz. Also, the formatting of Tumblr is new to me, so if there is anything annoying with how this is laid out, let me know! Pease send Requests too! I'm excited to see what comes in!

[lemonyos]

Blushing Insecurity by calamityin

( M | 1 | 7,434 )

Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Bart Allen/Kon-El | Conner Kent Characters: Bart Allen, Kon-El, Tim Drake Additional Tags: Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, One Shot, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Friendship/Love, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Cussing, Angst, Mental Health Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Kissing, Panic Attacks, Humor, Pre-Relationship, Healing, Miscommunication, Confusion, Relationship Reveal, Misunderstandings, First Kiss, Angst with a Happy Ending

“I just had a nightmare,” he said around a forkful, “I didn’t mean to call him, but I was sitting outside and it got lonely. We need a new plant." Tim shook his head and pointed his fork at Bart. “Absolutely not! I don’t know what you did to Adeline, but I was finding pieces of her for months. I am not bringing another plant into this apartment just for you to massacre it.” Bart pouted. “Okay, but that means you can’t complain when I invite people over because there’s no one to talk to in the middle of the night.”

[litanyrobin]

The sky was getting dark

Summary:

After got engage, Tim and Kon steal a motorcycle.

The sky was getting dark (Tim Drake/Kon-El Conner Kent) by anyrobin in AO3

Tim inhales deeply the icy air that hits his bare face carelessly as he moves down the road clinging to the soft, cold leather jacket that wraps around the strong back of his companion, who drives the motorcycle they are riding.

On the back of the garment, which he holds tightly, there are large, carelessly embroidered white letters that are assiduously illuminated by the dazzling lights of vehicles overtaking on the side of the road, making the inscription "Ndivil" on the garment absolutely clear.

Tim smiles to himself as he notices the strange situation they find themselves in, as if they were the protagonists of a romantic movie, making their most wonderful utopias come true, escaping from the world to focus solely on their happiness, side by side. However, that's not their real situation, not even close. It's just him and his boyfriend doing a prank, the biggest one of all. The last one.

Hours earlier, they had parked their car in a passing tent on the way to the border, near the forests and mountains; they stopped halfway through their car trip with the intention of eating something to regain energy and unwind their legs.

"Then I'll have a tea, a medium latte with two sugars and the cream, and two servings of pancakes," the tall boy asked the cashier, with a smiling Tim clutching his arm, glad that his boyfriend ordered what he liked without the need to ask first.

They went together to a table away from the critical and prying eyes of families and truckers who stopped by to eat as well and sat facing each other to make the company less invasive and more enjoyable. Facing each other, they could chat more easily and would not miss any of the other's details.

"Thanks for this, Kon, it will do us good," Tim mentioned, playing with the ring on his ring finger.

Conner, who had just removed his leather jacket, smiled at him shaking out his own blackish hair, and then pointed to the ring on his finger.

"You don't have to be thankful, think of this as an early honeymoon. You needed to detach yourself from all the wedding preparations and so did I, plus your stupid business at Wayne Enterprises and the bats. The trip is for the greater good. I was desperate to get you away from all those hoarding vampires, though."

Tim nodded leaning back on the cushioning behind him and inhaled deeply, losing himself for a moment in the details of the varnished wood of the ceiling. The restaurant they were in was cozy, different from the cold or pompous places in the city; he liked the countryside, the sound of the wind beating in the groves and the wooden houses that looked like cabins. Conner, his fiancé (he loved how the word sounded on his lips), knew all that, so he was doing him the favor of getting him out of the city environment for a few days before continuing preparations for their wedding in less than a month. They were both tired of all the paperwork and organization, so they had run away without telling anyone and forgetting everything they still had to do. They knew they could be easily tracked, but at least they were trying.

Tim loved that about his boyfriend: his spontaneity. He felt that he could wake up one day feeling tired of the monotony of their lives and it would only take one look at Kon for him to understand how he felt and fly him away from it all to put it back together again.

He was fantastic, that's why he had not hesitated for a moment to say "I do" when he proposed to her; although in reality Conner had not even managed to formulate the proposal when Tim was already accepting. The detective saw a ring between his fingers and hadn't even had to think about it, to his luck he got the purpose of that ring right, otherwise it would have been embarrassing.

"Do you think it will take us long to get there? I appreciate you agreeing to ride in your car and not just fly," asked Tim with the cup of latte in his hands. He inhaled the steam coming off of it and smiled taking a sip.

"Three more hours, maybe, it's a long trip."

"But it'll be worth it," he mused with the cup pressed to his lips. Kon smiled at him, enraptured by the tranquility Tim conveyed.

Sometimes his boyfriend was explosive and sizzling, but at other times (rare, really) he was the most passive being his eyes had ever seen and he adored that duality.

They finished their breakfast in complete quiet, deaf to the constant murmuring around them and the sound of cars parking on the other side of the wall. They paid the bill ready to end their little tryst once and for all and continue their journey to the cabin in the mountains that Tim had rented at the last minute the night before.

They walked out holding hands, sporting the gleaming pair of white gold rings on their intertwined fingers and with wide smiles on their faces that they were sure no one and nothing could erase from them.

However, after walking a few steps in the direction of where they had left the car parked, they realized something.

The vehicle was missing.

They looked at each other at the same time, puzzled because they both remembered having parked in that specific place, but there was definitely no car there. They began to scan every part of the parking lot, trying to remember exactly the path they had taken from the store to the car and back, hoping to find the whereabouts of the vehicle, but to no avail.

Their car had been stolen.

"Shit. Kon..." called Tim, tightening his grip on his hands.

"Yes?" he asked, swallowing saliva.

"Where are the car keys?"

Conner immediately patted his pockets, trying to make them jingle and thus find the object his boyfriend was asking for. He was absolutely sure that he had taken them out after parking and put them in his jacket, but no matter how hard he looked for them, he couldn't find them. He knew then, by chance, that he had left them inside the vehicle before leaving.

"They must have fallen into the seat when I got out of it to get out of the car," Conner lamented, smacking his forehead.

Tim remained undaunted and nodded slowly.

"Kon-El, Conner Kent..." he called again.

"Yes?" he repeated.

"I know we're not married yet," he said, "but I already want a divorce."

Conner had intended to laugh, but for a moment he questioned the falsity in his fiancé's words. Even though he would be angry if Tim lost the car in the middle of nowhere, it was no time to joke about it.

He looked around the parking lot again, fluctuating between his options to get out of the situation. They didn't have the car, nor its keys and much less all the belongings they had left inside it, so he didn't have many alternatives to get out of that situation, but he needed to fix the mess he had just got into, otherwise, he would have to resign himself to ruin his early honeymoon and maybe have to delay the wedding because of the loss of his car, which was not exactly second hand and even less a cheap one, since he had insisted that they pay for it themselves without any financing related to Wayne. It may not have been the latest model or anything exclusive, but it had cost him a lot of effort and years of work on the farm and saved allowances, as well as a lot of money. She'd acquired it so he could go on normal dates with his -now- fiancé and lost it in the blink of an eye. Idiot.

"And what are we supposed to do now? ", Tim said quietly and then let out a sigh. He wasn't angry, maybe annoyed, but mostly disappointed. He was looking forward to the trip and all his happiness had been interrupted in a matter of seconds.

Feeling even more pressured by the tone of voice in his partner's words, Kon grabbed him by the wrist on impulse (untwisting their joined hands) and pulled him towards him to start running in the direction of the opposite side of the parking lot.

"What are you doing?" questioned Tim with a frown.

"Just follow me. "

Tim allowed the opponent to continue dragging him to where a young man was parking his motorcycle, but what happened seconds later he could not have foreseen.

In one swift movement, Conner rammed the guy from the side, pushing him to the ground, and when he fell he snatched the keys of the vehicle which he held between his fingers. He did not hesitate before jumping on the motorcycle and dragging Tim with him to help him quickly climb on his back, making him hold on to his leather jacket tightly and then simply start the engine and start the motorcycle.

"Sorry, but it's an emergency," said Conner already behind the wheel of the vehicle, backing it up so he could get underway. "We'll get it back to you right away, I promise! "

"Are you crazy!", Tim exclaimed with his hands clutched tightly around his boyfriend's waist, straining not to choke on the air that was crashing against his face due to the speed with which his boyfriend was already moving down the road. "They're going to...!" he moaned. "They're going to take us to prison! I'll have to lock myself up in it! Why didn't you just fly?"

"I can't hear you!", Conner shouted without taking his eyes off the road. He was thankful that they were traveling on an uncrowded route and not having to watch out for hitting someone else while moving so fast, but he slowed down anyway after a couple of minutes when he made sure there was no way the guy they had just taken the bike from was chasing them or checking his features to file a report with the local police. "You were saying?"

Tim leaned his forehead against Conner's back and squeezed his eyes shut so that the air would stop making them sting, swallowed hard the little saliva accumulated in his mouth cavity and shook his head waiting for his boyfriend to feel it.

"Fuck the super audition- you're crazy, Kon!"

The named only laughed, more focused on getting through a curve. Tim squeezed his waist tightly, still fearful that something was going to happen to them.

"Let's get the one who stole from us!" jocularly shouted Conner. "We are the unstoppable duo!"

Tim wanted to hit him and yell back that they weren't in a movie and that they had gotten themselves into a gigantic mess by taking a stranger's motorcycle, but he didn't want to be the voice of conscience in that situation and tried hard to get used to the adrenaline sensation caused by crossing the road at a dangerous speed and without any protection. He would definitely not commit such a madness with anyone else but Conner, he was sure; so he would try to enjoy it for as long as it lasted, until they were caught or had no choice but to return without their car and face the consequences of their actions.

෴

A few hours have passed since they escaped from the restaurant on a motorcycle that doesn't belong to them and Tim has already gotten used to the speed, the cold and the strange situation they are in. He no longer feels the same fear as some time before and imagines what he is living as an experience that he will mention during his wedding ceremony as the greatest folly that Conner led him to commit... Or the most civil one.

He feels warm, satisfied, and even fulfilled with the feat they have accomplished. He no longer thinks about the consequences or the future (referring to their robbery), but is dedicated to living the adventure they are undertaking.

"It's useless," he hears Conner say as he slows the vehicle and leans over to park on the side of the road that is arranged as a lookout into the woods.

When Conner turns off the motorcycle and gets off it amid frustrated huffs, Tim mimics his actions, only he wears a painted-on grin he's not willing to wipe off for the world and hangs on the taller man's arm to get him to lift his head and stop shaking his hair angrily.

"It's not pointless, it's exciting," says Tim. "I like to have some extreme fun where we don't have to make sure no one gets hurt. Well, except the poor guy we took the bike from."

"But there's no sign of our car," Conner snorts, but Tim nudges him in the ribs and shrugs.

"Hey, stop worrying, okay? It's not your fault. Besides, we have a nice replacement bike now."

Conner lets out a dry laugh that makes Tim frown and separate from him. The optimistic demeanor the boy had at the beginning of his prank has completely disappeared as he didn't get the desired results, making Tim feel annoyed out of nowhere, because he was the one who had gotten them into that bigger mess than the initial problem, to begin with, and he doesn't like it when he behaves inconsistently. They had already started with that, now they had to finish it.

"Conner Kent, look at me," he demands.

"Timothy Drake, I'm looking at you," Conner replies with a weariness that he tries to disguise with jocularity. He tries to ignore the fact that Tim hasn't called him "Kon," which is typical of him when he starts to get angry.

"I don't want you to look like a punished child, do you hear me? We've been through this and we're going all the way," he declares solemnly. "We've been through worse, and I've put up with a lot more bullshit from you, so don't even think I'm going to let you put your head down over something as stupid as not finding a puny car in the middle of nowhere. I repeat, did you hear that right?"

Conner's face reddens from anger and embarrassment, for if he didn't look like a scolded child moments before, now Tim has left him looking like one, and it bothers him that he is behaving this way, as if assuming that he has already put his head down and plans to give up on his quest. He feels ridiculed and as if his boyfriend has lost hope in him.

"I heard right," he states, with a frown. "I don't need you to tell me things over and over again, I'm not a child, Tim!"

Tim purses his lips, self-conscious at his fiancé's response. He himself had not expected to hear himself like this, his intention was not to come across as squeamish or paternal, he just wanted to raise his spirit, but apparently, his words had backfired.

"Maybe Clark was right and it's too soon to get married? ", muses Conner suddenly, turning around and walking to the railing of the unusual gazebo. He wants to lose himself for a while watching the endless trees, but the sound of Tim approaching from behind prevents him. He knows his comment was over the line, but the frustration of the situation comes crashing down on him and out of nowhere all his worries are weighing on his shoulders.

"Why are you bringing it up now?" asks Tim with a clear tone of indignation in his voice.

Such an adventure, with both of them escaping on a stolen motorcycle in search of something they can hardly find, shortly after getting married and after feeling like the kings of the world, should serve to strengthen their relationship, to reaffirm their feelings for each other? However, suddenly, doubts invade Conner and make Tim tremble, because there is the possibility that this prank only made his boyfriend realize that he did not want to do dangerous deeds with him, that he would not want him in the bad things too; that he did not want to marry him.

"Forget it."

"No, Conner, tell me why."

Conner sighs and turns to look at it, leaning on the railing and with the lights of some passing cars being his only illumination, besides the moon that begins to be seen in the still clear firmament.

"Look at us, honey, we're still young and irresponsible... We take a bike and run around as if we were a couple of kids with no conscience of our actions. A step as big as getting married.... Maybe we are not ready yet. "

Tim angered, clenches the ring tightly in his hand and angrily denies it.

"Speak for yourself, because I am," states Tim. "We've been through horrible things, fought worse battles. I lost you once, Conner! So now what, you're going to use age as an excuse? We're grown-ups now, Conner! My parents got married at seventeen and didn't stop to think about their ages because they were sure they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. They were sure of their love, aren't you sure of ours, Conner?"

Conner clenches his fists and looks at the certainty in his boyfriend's eyes. Tim comes across as convinced of everything he says, no hesitation of any kind and no trace of doubt; it makes him feel embarrassed and foolish. An idiot for even mentioning the idea of postponing their wedding. He had just gotten angry because he felt he was treated like a coward, yet now he does act like one.

He is sure that he loves Tim, has no doubt that he wants to give the rest of his life to him, and yet he made such a foolish comment. Conner was convinced when he bought the pair of engagement rings they both wear on their ring fingers, and he finds no reason not to be convinced then too, because when he sees Tim he knows there is no one else in the world for him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... It's not like that, I love you. I got carried away. "

"I love you too, Kon," Tim declares, relaxing his shoulders; "but we can't always be arguing about things like this. Don't mention doubts you don't have or you'll create misunderstandings that can ruin everything, okay? And don't take it as a scolding, take it as a suggestion."

Conner nods and smiles stretching his arm towards his boyfriend, when Tim takes it, he pulls him to his chest to hug him tenderly. Tim tries to hide his own smile, but holds his arms lovingly around his chest anyway.

"Oh, and about the age thing    We're nowhere near thirty, insecure baby, no kidding. Seven years of dating hasn't been enough for you?" "I'm never satisfied if it's about you, T. I want it all from you, love."

"That's so cliché," Tim says feigning a retch. "Sometimes I get sick of your cheesy comments."

"Oh, yeah?" Tim nods. "Well, as long as we're being honest... I don't like the yellow shirt you bought for me, I'll look like a duckling at the altar!"

The shorter one jumps up in surprise and immediately separates from his boyfriend, looking indignant in front of him.

"You can't complain! You bought a white suit for me and I didn't refuse, now you quietly dress up as a duckling!"

"But it's different! ", Conner appeals. "Have you seen yourself in white? It's not because I want to accomplish something stupid like you playing the bride in your equivalent of a dress that color, but it's just that in white you look."

"Wow?" Conner nods with a smile and he smiles too. "I always look wow, Kon. It's part of my nature."

They both laugh together until the sky begins to darken. Neither of them has noticed, but the day has almost completely passed (not yet approaching the night) and they continue chatting as if nothing had happened until Conner gets ready to walk to the motorcycle again and return to his last stop to assume the consequences of taking someone else's vehicle without permission and return empty-handed -without his car. The only motivation he has left to return is that he knows he will do it with his boyfriend holding his hand and receiving the penalty with him, because this adventure belongs to both of them, and they will both get to the end of it.

Tim watches his boyfriend approach the motorcycle and his eyes suddenly lose sight of the inscription on his jacket as it is suddenly illuminated by the headlights of a speeding car.

"Kon?"

"What's up?" asks Conner already on the bike.

"What does Ndivil mean?"

Tim recalls, then, his freshman year in college when he and Conner had decided to start attending together in San Francisco in certain quiet times, when he would hear talk in the hallways about a sophomore "Ndivil"- so-called because of the embroidery on his jacket, a new design for his civilian version that Tim never asked about - who was described as haughty and bold, someone manly and tough looking, but also funny and charming to those who suited him...The typical bad boy stereotype that made a girl or two drool in the movies. Although of course, Tim had not taken long to show how in love they were and disprove all that, because his Kon was not arrogant or daring, yes charming and funny, but above all affectionate and even shy and awkward. He was six feet and so much of pure sweetness that Tim had managed to hoard just for him.

"Ah, that," he says, smiling. "It's Kryptonian. It has several meanings like any name, but I like it for one in particular: 'he who shines'; isn't that cool? "

Tim gives a disappointed pout, as he was hoping to find an interesting story behind it all. Some amusing anecdote or something much more profound and far-fetched than a simple search for meanings on the internet.

Without answering him, Tim climbs up behind Conner and hooks his arms around the taller man's waist, leaning on his back to wait for him to depart.

Conner starts the engine, but before he even makes a move, he decides to speak:

"Tim."

"What is it?"

"Do you know why I no longer introduce myself as Ndivil?"

Tim raises his head from his hiding place and looks at the back of his opponent's head as if he could give him understanding that he is listening to him, but Conner doesn't catch his signal and instead waits a few seconds before speaking again.

"For when I'm with you, the only one who shines out of the two of us is you. "

Tim smiles, touched by the cheesy words of his boyfriend, who never fails to speed up his heartbeat and make him feel moved. Anyway, it doesn't take him long to give him a push, making the bike wobble, and let out a giggle.

"Don't be silly, Kon," he muses settling back in. "When we're together we both glow. "

"I guess you're right," Conner agrees with a smile and starts the motorcycle, moving along the same road they had been riding hours before.

Now, Tim again inhales deeply the cold air that blows against his face as he moves along the road holding on to Conner's jacket; he no longer takes the time to analyze the embroidery on it and instead, he is with his eyes closed recapitulating every second of the day he had spent walking the streets clinging to the back of his partner's back. This time he is not getting carried away with the feeling of living a romantic movie, because he is convinced that his life together with Conner is better than any good movie cliché, and he has just repeated to himself that in reality that would not be his last prank, since Kon and he have a whole life ahead of them to keep making mistakes together, but he is sure that each one of them will be as unforgettable an experience as having stolen a motorcycle in the middle of their anticipated honeymoon.

Tim is about to start dozing off, leaning against his boyfriend's warm back, when under the darkening sky and with the moon slowly beginning to creep in-he spots a familiar gray car ahead. His car.

"Kon, stop!"

By the time night falls completely, neither of them is still on the road; neither of them nor the vehicle that belonged to them. Instead, on the side of the road, the motorcycle that accompanied them throughout their impromptu adventure is parked, with its keys hidden behind the front wheel and a makeshift sign on it with "Thanks for the favor" written on it.

And when the sun rises again, they are already sharing a bed in the cabin they had prepared, laughing at their mischief and kissing slowly until they lose track of time again and continue to give each other their love. Both ready to seal before all those feelings the following month through a simple word:

"I do."

[freedvmrouge]

KNITTING AND SEWING.

fandom: dc comics.

character(s): kon el/conner kent.

word count: 530.

tags & warnings: pov kon el, college au-ish.

summary: kon is trying to catch up on his college projects when he gets a notification of martha's upcoming birthday and shifts focus.

masterlist.

a/n: i've had this hc where kon is a fashion design major, so i couldn't not write it for this prompt.

Kon pulls a thread through the needle and silently cheers. He slides onto the floor as if that'll make him concentrate better. He has two other sewing projects to do for different classes and he needed to start this one yesterday. The deadline is in two weeks and he's only just begun making his designs into reality.

As much as he would like to blame the delays on his side gig as an international superhero and a very active Young Justice member, he really did forget about these assignments.

Out of sight, out of mind. 

He sighs as he goes through the routine motions. Even though he can technically move faster and get these done sooner, he's still experiencing every millisecond. The design process was a lot more enjoyable, he laments.

Just before he finishes sewing his first design, his phone goes off. What he initially assumes is a call turns out to be a calendar reminder. Where were you when I needed assignment reminders? Kon groans as he clicks on the notification.

Martha's birthday is in three days.

"Ah, shit." Kon throws his head back onto the couch cushions. "I didn't get anything. What do I get her? Did Clark already get something? He probably has." He whines into the empty space. The only witness to his moaning and complaints is his own supplies.

His head swirls for ideas. He has half a mind to abandon his existing sewing projects now that he has something more immediate to attend to. He has plenty of time... right?

Kon floats above the couch and looks over the entire room. He lazily skims through one of his many sketchbooks. Maybe he can design something for Martha? Should he go for something practical or something for fun? It can't be something too fancy. Even though that'd be a lot more fun to think about, it'd also be a lot more complicated to complete in time.

Scrolling through Pinterest, he finds all sorts of gift ideas. He saves plenty of pins to boards associated with different people in his life. Wait.

He already has a Pinterest board for Martha. Kon sits up and rushes to find it, looking through the pins with excitement. "Shoes? Too difficult. I could paint a base, though. Maybe."

By the time he's gotten to the end of the board, he's got several ideas and none that stand out from the others. He groans, locking his phone and leaving it face down on his chest. There's got to be something he can make within three days. Hopefully, nothing too crazy happens in the world in the meantime either.

The door opens suddenly, and in the quiet, it sounds like an explosion of noise. Kon's eyes snap open and finds Cassie coming in with a knitted scarf and hat. Cassie ignores him, taking one look at the mess Kon's made on the floor and walks past.

Kon's eyes follow her or rather follow her clothing pieces. He could knit Martha a sweater, something better than the name brands, surely. It'll be pretty inexpensive, too.

Clasping his hands together, he floats back down and grabs his kit. Time to get to work.

[jinxs-gf]

Can I? (kiss the hurt away)

YJ!Conner Kent x Spider!Reader

summary: you get hurt during a mission and Conner just wants to help. this finally brings you two together.

content/warnings: set in s1, lots of wounds, blood mentioned, awkward flirting…this was a shared prompt w my two besties, here’s my version! (I switched it up a bit), funny writing bc it’s from spider!reader’s perspective (mostly)

word count: 2.1k

a/n: FIRST CONNER FIC YAYAYYAYAYAY I hope people actually read for him lmaooo…enjoy!

There's a ringing in your ear for a while, your vision blurred. Just as you come out of it there's a voice—

"You okay?"

One you're very familiar with.

You slowly blink your eyes open. You're not sure what the hell your enemy just blasted you with, but it was enough to knock you out and make everything hurt. A lot.

"Uhh I think so?" Conner watched the white eyes of your mask blink, he could tell you were in fact, not okay.

He could see it from a distance, the distance he unknowingly made while fighting. He promised himself he'd stay close at all times when the team was in danger, when you could potentially get hurt. And look at you now. His ignorance to what was going on around him got you hurt.

At least that's what he told himself.

You swat his hands as he starts fussing over you, too disoriented to think about the action. Until you see his hurt face. He was only trying to help.

But Conner thinks, you were pushing him away, and rightfully so when he's the reason you're hurt in the first place.

"No no it's-" you heave a rugged sigh, your lungs feeling heavy. "I'm just out of it. Sorry. What was that guy packing in his gun anyways?"

Conner's reluctant in his assistance to you now, but you encourage him with a smile. He lifts you to your feet, securing an arm around your waist to ensure you wouldn't fall back down. You definitely weren't in a state to be walking and that's proven when your legs wobble and all your weight falls onto him. Something he doesn't mind and in a different situation would smile at.

But you hiss as his pulls you up, and he's brought back to reality.

"Thanks Con-man." Another smile for him and his shoulders relax.

"I have no idea what that man was packing in his gun. All I know is it hurt you...really badly. You were out the rest of the fight."

"I was?" A quick look around and sure enough, you were. The quietness of the area should've been a clear sign there was no longer a battle going on.

"Looks like I was." And suddenly the team is behind you. It's a miracle the rest of them avoided getting hurt the way you did (which was a little embarrassing considering your spider senses).

"You alright, Spidey?" Wally and Artemis ask at the same time, they glare at each other for it.

"Jinx. Artemis, you owe me a soda."

"I do not-" you cut them off, ending the argument before it could start.

"Yeah I'm alright." But the way you leaned heavily onto the SuperBoy and breathed unevenly told a different story. Although that was nothing new, was it? You somehow were constantly hanging off the boy one way or another (not literally...though you wish it was).

"Are you sure? We'll have you get checked back at headquarters," Kaldur speaks. You simply nod, too weak to really do much else.

Robin was looking worriedly, trying to hide it but you could see right through him. You shot him a smile.

While the team discussed what to do with the bad guy, you stayed with Conner. There was an awkward silence until he spoke up, having enough of your small hisses and puffs at his side.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, everything? I'm hurting everywhere," you were practically mumbling, fatigue evident with every word you spoke.

He huffs and places you on the floor again, carefully avoiding any rubble from the fight. Another pained hiss from you.

"Sorry sorry, I know," he's trying to figure out his next move. "I don't know how to make it better."

You shake your head, "that's alright Conner. You don't need to, you're not a doctor or anything."

And yet he looks guilty, like your wounds and the fact that he hasn't already done something to ease the pain was his fault. He eyed the arm you've been holding around your abdomen this whole time.

"You being here right now is enough. I promise. And this," you lift your arm finally, making a soft noise of pain in between, "it'll go down by tomorrow-"

"Shit! When did that happen?" His voice startles you, the sudden noise rattling your probably concussed brain. You finally look down to see blood dripping from a scratch in your suit.

"Shit. When did that happen? How..."

"I didn't realize it was that bad. I'm sorry."

"No Conner, it's okay-"

"Can I?"

"Huh?" And Conner is gesturing to your mask, your eyes widen.

"You're breathing too heavily for it to be comfortable. Please?" He wouldn't say part of it was because he needed to see your face to comfort him.

You nod.

He doesn't freak out when he takes it off, so that's a good sign.

"How do I look?" he doesn't answer for a few seconds, he's carefully observing your face it seems. You can't help but smile.

And he smiles back, "still beautiful as ever."

"Okay lover boy," you desperately wish the mask was on, if only to hide your timid expression. "You don't need to flatter me."

Conner clears his throat quickly, awkwardly. As if he didn't realize he said it out loud.

He really didn't mean to. But seeing how shy and...dare he say happy you looked after he said it, he thinks it wasn't such a bad thing.

"You have a few scratches. But you're still-"

"Beautiful as ever, yeah yeah I heard you," maybe he wasn't going to say it again, but you weren't going to risk it. You don't think you could take it if he said it. You'd probably do something stupid like kiss him—

He swallows thickly, still embarrassed. "We need to get you back," he goes to pick you up, only this time it's not so you can stand upright. No. He's preparing to carry you bridal style. Oh no. Now you really might kiss him (that is if you don't pass out within the next few seconds). "Can I carry you? I don't think you're in good enough shape to walk right now."

"Rude."

"No I didn't mean-"

You laugh, maybe a little meanly, you knew he wasn't good on certain social cues yet, making teasing him easy, "sorry- I know what you mean. Yeah it's...alright. You can totally carry me." Now you were beginning to feel awkward.

He picks you up easily. And you're starting to agree with him, you definitely weren't in any shape to walk if him lifting you was enough to make you dizzy.

You weren't kidding yourself when you said you'd pass out before you could kiss him.

Your head lays comfortably on his chest...right over his heart which happened to be beating like crazy.

Was that your doing? You really hope so.

He carries you a little behind the rest of the team, murmuring reassurances and praise. 'You did good back there.' 'You're gonna be okay, I'll make sure of it.' 'Stay close to me okay? I'll make it better.'

Bioship took you all back to Mount Justice, M'gann talking your ear off the whole time. Starting with worried rambles about how hurt you looked and fading into a new tv show she got into. One she wished her people on Mars could enjoy.

Usually you wouldn't mind it, but you could feel an oncoming headache the whole ride. You didn't have the heart to tell her to stop nor that you weren't really listening. Not feeling bad only because Wally seemed enthralled with her storytelling (suck up) and flirted here and there.

You were too busy focusing on your shadow anyways. Aka the SuperBoy who refused to leave your side and was quite literally on you the whole way. Between him, M'gann, and Wally's flirting with her (and Robin's occasional butting in to tease) you were surprised you didn't go insane on the ride back.

When you did get back, they told you it was bad (fatal for a normal person) but nothing you couldn't handle. Just a broken rib (unfortunately common for you) and a slight concussion. Great. Accompanied with bruises and the big gash on your abdomen. That weapon really did a number on you. Conner went off on the adults for saying it was "nothing you couldn't handle" because you were "on the brink of dying". Which is a bit dramatic, but having him be so protective over you was kind of nice...or whatever.

They suggested you took a break for a week and a half (a conclusion you came to after you'd negotiated with them for a good 5 minutes. because who do they think they were benching you—for good reason—for 2 weeks?!) should a mission come up within that time.

You sighed on the couch, everyone was either in their rooms or went home for the day. They said their goodbyes and wished you well, to which you replied 'pfft I'll be better by tomorrow. just watch.' It would be really embarrassing if you weren't better by tomorrow...you unfortunately bet money on it. Stupid.

"You okay?"

"A little better now. Thanks for taking care of me."

"I wish I could've done more...I said I would but all I did was sit back and watch everyone else take care of you." This was clearly eating at him, although it's a wonder why.

Nothing about the situation was his fault nor should he feel guilty about "not doing enough."

"Conner, I told you it's alright and that you being there for me was enough. And I meant every word."

He sits with you, thigh to thigh with his head in his hands.

You pat his shoulder, "it's alright big guy. I'm okay, I'll be fully recovered soon."

"Not soon enough."

You sigh, he could be really stubborn sometimes. Frustratingly so.

"Con, please. Look at me?" He listens. And you regret asking him. You hate the look in his eyes, or rather you hate the way it makes you feel. Another case of you're going to kiss him if he keeps this up.

How could such a big, stubborn, and (apparently) non-affectionate guy have the biggest puppy eyes? Ones that have you melting.

His face is now in your palms. With the way he's looking at you, surely he wouldn't mind if you gave in and...kissed him, right?

"Can I kiss you?"

He's stunned for a moment before finally speaking up, "isn't it obvious that I want you to?"

You both share shy smiles thinking, finally.

You lean in, hands still cupping his face, his now doing the same.

Although the kiss was a little awkward, the two of you not exactly experienced in that department (him coming out of a literal tube only months ago), as well as a little...messy—it was everything you could've wanted in your first kiss with him. A kiss that was going to be the start of the two of you. SuperBoy and the Spider. You hated how warm the thought made you.

You were practically radiating giddiness, Conner could feel it. He pulled away still smiling, "I've wanted to do that for a really long time now."

"Me too. You know what also was great about that? You kissed my ouchies away. I'm all better now."

"Ouchies? What are we, five?"

There's silence, not of awkwardness, but from two of you reeling from the kiss, processing the fact that it was real.

"I don't want to be the one to break this up but...we should really get to bed. With your concussion and training being early tomorrow..."

"Yeah, of course," the giddiness hasn't left, "would you uh...want to come? With me? To bed."

"Gee Spider, at least take me to dinner first."

"Oh, so he's got jokes now?"

"Only for you, babe."

"Ew, you sound like Wally."

"Ouch? Don't insult me like that," but he doesn't look offended in the slightest. There's probably the biggest smile you've seen on his face, ever.

Safe to say it was not fun explaining why Conner was in your bed the next morning, trying to convince everyone it was purely innocent.

Batman was disappointed, reminding you that you needed to wait until you were healed before you did anything physical. Haha. Very funny.

And the team snapped pictures that they would definitely use against Conner (seeing as he was the more...emotionally constipated and reluctantly affectionate one).

But you honestly couldn't be happier. And neither could he.

does it seem a bit rushed at the end? unfortunately

do I have the patience to fix it? no

hope you enjoyed :D

[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 | ☀️

[a1307s]

Kinks #1

(Conner Kent Smut)

[Art is not mine! Credit to kămenOWL ]

Request By: dogma0325

Keys:

Y/N - Your Name

E/C - Eye Color

Word Count: 3,527

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Catcalling

Mild name calling/bickering/cursing

Choking

Hair pulling

Lost virginity (Conner)

Bruising

Grinding

Semi-domination

Mentions of degrading

Spanking

Stroking/Riding

Thigh cum shot

———————————————————————

Conner's POV

     The living room is super noisy this afternoon. Wally and Robin decided to invite Roy Harper for what they called a 'boys night' in. Apparently a 'boys night' is all the boys hanging out without any of the girls on the team around. In a counter action to this, Artemis invited Zatanna over to hangout with Y/N, M'gann and herself for a 'girls night'. I have learned that the only difference between a 'boys night' and a 'girls night' is the genders who are hanging out in what room.

     If I'm honest I would much rather be at the girls' night in Y/N's room than in the living room with the boy teammates - and Roy. The boys are loud and only talk about this thing called 'football'. I was interested in some of the conversation when Roy was talking about fixing his motorcycle. I like machines, they're understandable and unchanging; unlike humans.

     A whistle pulls me out of my thoughts, pulling my attention towards the direction it came in. "You're looking hot, Y/N," Roy - who I assume whistled - says with a smirk and a wink.

     My head snaps upward at the sound of Y/N's name. I'm not sure what I feel about her yet. When she's around it's hard to breathe and my stomach feels upset but when she's talking to Wally or Kaldur touches her back I get angry. I explained these emotions to Canary last week when she was here for our training and she told me it sounded like a 'crush'. After some research and an explanation from Robin apparently a 'crush' is when you have romantic love feeling things for a person. From how he explained it, it's supposed to make me feel good, but it just makes me feel confused and angry.

     "Keep your tongue in your mouth, Harper," Y/N says, a small giggle following her words. Y/N leans over Roy's chair, her chin resting on his red hair and her arms folded under her chest. From what I can see she's wearing one of my shirts along with her tight velvet necklace. Last month Y/N explained to me the tight necklaces she wears are called 'chokers'. Her conversation with Roy makes my nervous boil with anger but seeing her wear my shirt makes my stomach warm up.

     "Hurry up and get out of here! It's boys night," Wally whines, throwing a piece of his popcorn at Y/N. "What are you even doing out here?"

     "The girls wanted a snack and I lost the drawing so I got the great joy of seeing you boys pig out in the common room," She says, letting her feet fall back on the floor before walking over to the kitchen.

     "It's only Wally that is pigging out," Says Kaldur with a sweet smile. The smile makes my anger even more unbearable.

     "Suck my dick, Captain," Y/N mocks with a slupy salute.

     "You don't have one," Roy reminds her as if that's something a girl could forget. Maybe Y/N did forget she doesn't have a penis.

     "And yet my cock is bigger than yours," She snaps back at Roy, opening a cabinet and pulling out two bags of chips. "Maybe if you pulled some of your dick out of your personality you could keep a girlfriend," Y/N finishes before walking out of the living room and back down the hallway. Her comments towards Roy make my stomach even warmer, but this time it starts to tighten in a way I haven't felt before.

     "God it would be so fun to sleep with her," Mumbles Roy, getting a chuckle out of Wally.

     "Gosh not very humble, are we?" Wally asks, making himself chuckle even more. "Honestly Y/N is probably super vanilla."

     "Vanilla? As in the ice cream?" I ask, confusion over taking me. How can Y/N be an ice cream flavor?

     The guys laugh at me before Robin grabs my shoulder. "Big Guy, Vanilla is a term used for someone that isn't kinky in bed. Like you!" He explains, giving me more questions instead of answers.

     "Dude I swear Y/N is a hundred percent into choking," Roy says before taking a drink of his pop.

     "We are aware. Her chokers are a dead give away," Kaldur adds on before going back to his book.

     "I know she's into hair pulling," Robin says, catching the attention of Roy.

     "What makes you say that?"

     "I accidentally pulled her hair the other day and instead of saying 'ow' or being pissed off she said 'hey'," The youngest boy explains.

     "I'm still confused," I say as my confusion starts quickly turning into anger.

      "Ask one of the girls to explain it later," Wally says before going back to talk to Roy about Artemis's 'kinks'.

——————

     A little after ten everyone left the mountain for the night. Well everyone that doesn't live here anyway, which leaves Kaldur, M'gann, Y/N, and me.

     The question from earlier still eats at my brain and after talking to M'gann it's come to my attention that Y/N is my only hope for an explanation. So, here I am, standing outside her door. My stomach is upset again and my lungs feel like the air is being forced out of them. Is my question really important enough to disturb Y/N?

     Before I can make up my mind her door comes swinging open. "You know, your heart beat is really loud right now and is making it hard to sleep," She tells me, but it's hard for me to focus on her words. She's standing in her doorway with nothing but my T-shirt from earlier on. The warm and tight feeling comes back from earlier.

     "What?" I ask, completely forgetting to register her words.

     Y/N sighs and rolls her eyes at me before repeating herself. "I said your heart beat is too loud right outside my door so I can't fall asleep, so what do you want?"

     My mind struggles to make sense of Y/N's words as I look at her. She has to have shorts on or something under my shirt, right? Right?! "Because of your super-senses?" I manage to push out as I focus on the ended hem of my shirt. It rests gently against her thighs. If there's even a gentle breeze it'll move and expose everything. That's very pervy of me to think, isn't it?

     "Good conclusion captain obvious," Y/N says, crossing her arms over her chest, causing her boobs to plump up on top of her arms. I'm definitely a pervert. "What do you want, Sups? I'm tired and want to go to bed."

     "Can I ask you some questions? The boys were talking about some stuff today and I don't really know what they mean," I ask, tugging my eyes away from her chest and nervously scratching the back of my head.

     "Sure," Y/N says, turning around and heading back into her room but keeping the door open for me to follow. "Close the door when you walk in," She says, plopping down on her bed. Y/N lays down on her gray bedding. Her knees are bent up, causing my shirt to pool as high up her thigh as possible without showing anything. Her arm is over her eyes and her hair is fanned out in all directions across her pillows.

     I walk in and softly swing the door closed. The click of the door closing and the view of Y/N causes that pressure in my groin to grow more. "What were the boys talking about?" She asks, not moving her arm from her eyes.

     "Umm..." I mumble, walking over to her bed and folding myself in a seated position at the foot of it. "I think they called them 'kinks'," I finish, willing myself not to reach out and touch Y/N's knees.

     "What?" Y/N's question comes out sharp as she sits up. She folds her legs under her in a criss-cross sitting position. Her underwear pokes out from under my shirt, exposing the red color of it. I quickly snap my eyes away from that area and decide to focus on her E/C eyes. "Do you not know what a kink is? Is that your question?" She asks, reaching her hands out to hold my shoulders. Her eyes are tense as they focus on my face.

     "No I do not," I say, taking a quick glance down at her chest before snapping my eyes to the wall parallel with us. "Roy and Robin said you have a choking and hair pulling kink. That sounds like it would hurt".

     Y/N's cheeks go red at my words and she quickly moves her hands off my shoulders. "They're not wrong," She mumbles, fussing with her hair like she usually does when she's flustered. "I mean, it does like hurt but like... it's a good hurt, I guess? I don't know how to explain it..." Y/N slides off into thought after she tries to explain it to me.

     The thought of wrapping my hand around her throat takes over my thoughts, I want to know how she'll react. I want to know what she means by a 'good hurt'. Before I can stop myself I reach out and gently wrap my hand around her throat. "Wh...What are... what are you doing?" Y/N questions, her cheeks getting redder and her pupils widen some.

     "I wanted to see what you meant by 'good hurt'," I answer, carefully watching how she reacts.

     Y/N wiggles around, moving herself into a kneeling position in front of me. Her hands reach up to mine, filling my head with worry. What if I'm not doing it right? What if I upset Y/N? "You're doing it wrong," She says, moving my fingers to a certain spot on the side of her neck and gently pushing my palm up and off her windpipe. "You're supposed to gently squeeze the veins next to my neck. If you push down on my windpipe you'll break it. For someone like you I strongly suggest being extra careful," She says, looking up into my eyes again when she's done moving my hand into the right spot.

     "Can... Can I squeeze?" I ask, glancing down at my hand before looking back up at her. She nods yes, biting the bottom of her lip. "I want to hear you say yes."

      "Yes," She says, gently leaning into my hand. I gently squeeze, afraid of hurting her, "You can squeeze harder," Y/N says, her voice soft and her eyes half lidded. I obey, squeezing slightly more. "Perfect," She says, her voice coming out husky.

     "Is this a kink?" I ask, my eyes raking down her body. Gently I place my hand on her thigh so my fingers barely touching the hem of my shirt on her body.

     "Mhm," Y/N hums, her eyes completely closed now. "A kink is something someone likes to happen to them in bed. My kinks are choking - obviously. I also like getting spanked, my hair pulled, and being degraded. Sometimes I dabble in being a submissive too," She explains, scooting herself closer to me. "Can I sit in your lap?" She asks quietly, opening her eyes to look at me.

      "Umm... sure," I say, reluctantly letting go of her throat. Y/N gently climbs into my lap, wrapping her legs around my torso and softly resting her arms over my shoulders. Her area feels warm pushing up against my jeans. "Can you teach me how to pull hair?" I ask slowly, waiting to see how she responds.

     "Sure!" Y/N chirps out, her pupils growing even bigger. "So you're going to want to take a good chunk of my hair in your hand. You can take all of it if you want," She explains, and I obey, taking her hair in my hand and making a sort of ponytail out of it. "Next you're going to want to pull it back until I'm looking up at the ceiling. Don't pull super hard though or you'll actually hurt me."

     I listen to Y/N again, using the same amount of strength as I did on her throat. A strange sound comes out of Y/N as her head leans back from me pulling on her hair. "Am I hurting you?" I ask, losing my grip on her.

     "N... no..." She murmurs, blanking her eyes a few times before leaning her head back again. "You're just... turning me on..." She says, focusing on the ceiling. "Can you pull my hair again?"

      I pull her hair back again, focusing on the skin on her neck. It's slightly bruised from where I had my hand before. "What does that mean? 'Turning you on'?" I ask, trying to ignore the hard feeling forming in my pants.

     "Umm... being turned on... it ahh... it's the feeling where you want to have sex. I'm not sure how it is for guys but when us girls get turned on it's... it's like this pressure around our stomach, I guess? When girls get turned on they start,.. Like... leaking? That's not the right word..." She mumbles, rotating her hips to move forward. The feeling sends chilling waves through me. "When girls get turned on we... we form these like... juices? I don't know. Our pussies just get super wet. When guys get turned on though their dicks get a rush of blood and that's how boners are formed."

     "I think I'm forming a boner," I mumble, slowly leaning down to Y/N's neck. Every nerve in me wants to kiss the skin on her neck. It's just so smooth and beautiful that I can't help myself. "Is that wrong?" I am worried that I'm crossing some imaginary line I'm not aware of.

     "No... no it's... it's not," Y/N mumbles, tapping on my arm. In response I let go of her hair. Y/N's head flips up and she looks at me, her eyes burning into mine. "I really want to fuck you right now, Conner." She tells me, making the boner in my pants grow even more.

     "As in like... wanting me to put my... in... in your?" I ask, awkwardly resting my hands on her shoulders.

     "Ya, but we don't have too! We don't have to do anything you don't want!" Y/N yelps, starting to push herself off of me.

     "No! I... I want to... to do the... the sex..." I mumble, pulling her back into my lap. "How's... how's it going to feel?"

     "First, never call it 'doing the sex' again. It's just 'having sex'. Second, Roy explained it as a like warm and tight feeling."

     The mention of Roy makes my anger bubble and before I can stop myself I have my hand back into Y/N's hair and her head snapped back up. "Roy isn't here so I don't know why you need to say his name. Is he here? Are you sitting on his lap? Do you ask him to fuck you?"

     Y/N's woman hood beats under me like her heart has fallen from her chest. "Fuck Conner," She mumbles, rolling her hips aginst mine again. "N... no he's not here right now."

     "I'm sorry," I mumble, finally giving in and letting myself kiss her neck. "How do we...?" I ask, releasing her hair.

     "Don't apologize, I like when guys say stuff like that," Y/N says, crawling off my lap. She positions herself on all fours in front of me with her ass sticking high in the air towards me and her weight leaning on her forearms. "Can you... um... spank me?" She asks, slowly moving her hips so her butt shakes in front of me.

     "Umm... sure... if you explain how to do that," I say, my eyes following her butt as it moves and my penis straining against my pants.

     "Just smack my ass. Just be aware of how much power you're using, I don't want to get badly hurt," Y/N answers back, turning her head to look back at me.

     I roll her words over in my head as I gently rest my hands on her waist. "Just smack it?" I ask, getting a humming yes from the girl exposed in front of me. "Okay," I mumble, settling her hips in place before taking a hand off of her. I draw back my hand before swinging it forward and connecting it with Y/N's behind. A soft mew spills out of her as she hangs her head. "Like that?" I ask, rubbing the redding spot.

     "Ya," Y/N breathes out as her legs start to shake. I take that as a good sign, drawing my hand back a few more times and connecting it back into the same spot. With every smack her noises get louder. By the sixth time Y/N's voice is shaky. "Please Conner," She whines, rubbing her thighs together.

     "Please what?" I ask, rubbing the tender skin. Y/N wasn't lying when she said women leak. Sticky clear liquid coats her thighs. Curiosity gets the better of me, causing me to stick my hand on her thigh and coat my hand in the watery substance.

     "Please fuck me," She whimpers, moving her hips back and rubbing her butt aginst my penis.

     "I don't... I don't know how to do that," I say, rubbing the liquid between my fingers. "Can you show me?"

     "Ya," She says, turning around and pushing me back into a seated position. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Y/N asks, starting to undo my pants.

     "Yes, I'm sure," I answer, watching her movements carefully.

     Y/N wastes no time undoing my pants. Her hand presses against my boxers when she finally manages to undo my bottoms. The touch is small but still manages to shoot sparks through my body. I clench my jaw, holding back noises as she gently pulls out my cock. It stands up on its own but that doesn't stop Y/N from running her hand up and down on it. "I'm going to sit on it," She says, letting go of me and wiggling her way out of her underwear.

     "Isn't that going to hurt?" I ask, focusing on the ceiling to avoid looking at her womanhood.

     "No it won't. There's this... hole? That your dick goes into so like I'm not sitting-sitting on your dick. I'll just be sitting on your lap... with you.. In me..." She explains, glancing to the side before she rests her hand on my face.

     Gently, Y/N pulls my face down so I'm looking at her. She's so close to me that our noses are rubbing. "I'm going to kiss you," She says, rubbing her thumb on my cheek.

     "Okay."

     She takes her time to lean up and close the gap between us. When her lips touch mine they're soft and puffy against my own. The feeling of us kissing is a nice break from the heat and tension in the room. After a minute or two Y/N pulls away from me, dropping her hands from my face to my shoulders. "I'm going to put you in me now," Y/N mumbles, lifting herself and hovering herself over my dick.

     Slowly, Y/N settles herself on my lap. The feeling in her is exactly as she explained. It's nice and warm. Her insides wrap tightly around me which I take as a good thing because Y/N lets out a little gasp. "You're... you're so big," She mumbles, gripping tight on my shoulders.

     "Is that a bad thing?" I ask, settling my hands on her lower back.

     "Fuck no," She whispers into my ear, slowly lifting herself up before plopping back down on me. She goes slow a few more times before picking up her pace. "Fuck," She whines, sliding her hands up to my hair and gripping on to the strands. "You... you should... Um... buck your hips."

     I obey her wish, lifting my hips up as she falls back down. "God damn it!" She yells, tugging on my hair. I repeat the actions a few times, feeling Y/N's insides tighten around me, causing the tension in my groin to grow and making my dick quiver in her. "Y/N?" I ask when the feeling becomes overwhelming. "My... my dick... it feels-"

     "Like it's going to explode?" She asks, kissing the side of my neck. "When that feeling gets really really tense tell me to get off because you can't finish in me," Y/N says, bouncing on my lap some more.

     "You... you should get off... like now," I say, gently pushing her away. Just as Y/N slides off of me a white liquid comes spilling out. Unable to stop myself I let out a low growl and dig my hands into her side.

     Once the tension is all done spilling out I look down at Y/N. She stretched out on the bed with her knees still folded at my thighs. Her chest rises and falls fast as her heart beats faster than usual. Her hair is a mess and her thighs are coated with the juices from the both of us. "That was fun," She says, looking up at me with sparkles in her eyes.

     "Y... ya..." I say back, leaning down and gently brushing a kiss to her lips.

———————————————————————

[stealingyourbones]

Submitted Prompts #160

I was listening to that song "Space is Cool" that a fan made with Markiplier videos (what can I say, the music is really good).

And it reminded me of Danny, who's also so very in love with space.

And now I'm getting a clear mental picture of Danny full-on GUSHING about Space, in a sort of Outside POV thing.

Like, a Danny who's going to Uni in somewhere like Gotham or Star City, and got into the Astronomy club. And their "recruitment video" is just the cute freshman who adores space and will take any chance he gets to gush about it.

There's a lot of shots zoomed in on his pupils doing the cat thing of going from slits to big pools of black (like a black hole at the center of a galaxy) and his freckles start glowing in constellation patterns.

They go on an outing to the nearest Observatory, make it a sleepover thing, and sleepy Danny stretches and howls like a star, flops onto the nearest classmate and Club Member, and starts purring whenever they pet him.

He may be a meta, but they'll be damned if anyone blabbers to Batman about it.

Cue one Conner Kent coming to Gotham to tour their University, to pick where he wants to go when it's his turn next year, and find himself sitting next to Danny when he goes off on a rant about some deep space scans that caught images of Krypton before the explosion.

When asked about his opinion on the Supers, Danny, who's gotten so used to casual affections being directed towards him in the form of head scratches and hugs (they make Danny purr and light up in all kinds of patterns, so the club members do it as often as they can), pats him on the head and quietly praises Superboy for all the important work he does, and how his cloned little sister has always seen him as a mark that being a clone means nothing in the grand scheme of things, and it's who you are that counts.

Conner goes back to his parents in happy tears and with an invitation to attend Gotham U if he so chooses.

[prettysuper]

@reddrakebird:

If there was one thing Conner Kent could put his mind to - it was sulking. If there was a world record for the number of days spent wallowing in self-pity, Kon was fairly certain he could win it outright out of sheer stubbornness. During the disaster in Metropolis, Kon had spent the entire day rescuing people from the destruction of his own rage manifested. Finally, Kal had placed his hand on his back and told him to go home. But where was home? Kon didn't know anymore. He was starting to doubt everything all over again. Hurt tugged at his heartstrings like a grappling claw from an arcade machine. Humiliation crawled up the back of his throat. Stupid boy. He spent the next several days on the moon, wanting to isolate himself from everything and everyone, lost in self-deprecating thoughts. But there it was safe to kick at the dust, pull off his shades and just yell; eyes heating up as he shot heat-vision far off into space. Screaming where nobody could hear you. It was ugly. It was lonely. But most of all it was cathartic. Memories replayed in his head; those blue saddened eyes haunting him 384,400 km away. Eventually, he had to go back to the farm. Ma would worry about him. Ma worried about everyone. And sooner or later, Krypto would track him down and then he'd have to deal with talking to Kal about his feelings. Hard pass. Kon eventually headed down to the Kent farm, spending lunch with Ma reassuring her that he'd be fine - just on a mission with his friends. It was a white lie, and one he wasn't sure she entirely bought but she didn't probe further and he appreciated that. Eventually, he got out his phone to check on Bart. That's when the number of missed calls and messages hit him; a perfect twenty. How very like Tim. His stomach wavered as he clicked on the notification, scrolling up to read from the top. At first his eyes rolled, breath hardened as Tim asked if he was okay, then a few messages later if he wanted to talk. But the more he scrolled, the more he felt his chest tighten until eventually he crumbled and messaged the other man a simple, short text back. He busied himself helping out the farm with iits chores the rest of that afternoon before heading inside to grab a shower in he early evening. Taking the time to wash the grime off his skin, Kon got out (this time with a towel wrapped around his waist), heading to Kal's old room, which had temporarily become his when the Kents unofficially adopted him. He pulled out a fresh costume and grabbed his jacket, fixing his hair in the mirror, before doing up his boots and belt and sticking his shades securely onto his face. He got to the studio in Bludhaven deliberately a minute late just to keep Tim sweating. Hovering outside Timothy's window, Kon tapped a rare and gentle knock on the glass as he floated in the air outside, waiting for permission to come in. In his other hand, he held a small box of glazed doughnuts, picked up on the way there.

He waited for Timothy to open it, before passing him the box and slipping inside, careful not to bang his head on the window frame.

"Hey." He mumbled awkwardly; no hint of anger or malice left in his voice. He'd already exhausted that harshly into space. His face saddened at the visible darkened circles underneath the smaller man's eyes and the sunken in cheeks beneath them. "Long week, no sleep huh?"

[bluerosefox]

Supersons vs Ghost Gal (It started with Grandma's Kent Cookies)

Jon huffs as he tosses himself on his bed.

He didn't do it! He really didn't! At least not this time and yet he's in trouble for 'lying'!!!

Sure he liked to sneak pieces of whatever his grandmother would bake for dessert for the night, heck sometimes she sneakily let him, but he swears this time he didn't do it! And if he did he wouldn't had taken so many cookies! He may not be the sharpest but even he knew better than to take so many from the tray!

And yet no one believed him! His mom was so disappointed he wasn't 'owning up' to it that she banned dessert for him for like three days! He's totally innocent!

He frowned and began to wonder if it was Conner but remembered he was off world doing a reunion of YJ in space for the last few days.

But still someone had taken those cookies. And it wasn't him! Or grandpa, or his dad, he knew it wasn't his mom and his grandma loved feeding people over eating it for herself, it was her love language! And-

Jon's eyes widened and shot up when he realized something

Someone stole his grandma's cookies... without alerting him, the one with super-hearing!

And...

And no one believed he dint steal them or realized this either.

Oh... he... he needed help. And he knew just who might be able to help him.

-×-×-

FarmBoi2.0: Damian! I need your help!!!!!!ndjekeormekzndiekdkdprjwnaofnfl

TheHeir is typing....

-×-×-

Meanwhile, hidden not to far from the Kent's farm, hiding in a old tree house that had been built for a young Clark Kent, a girl roughly around Jon's age with white hair and glowing green eyes happily munched away on the cookies she had managed to snag for the night.

'I'll write a sorry note tomorrow. They smelt so freaking good and I haven't had chocolate chip cookies in ages' she thought as she stuffed another in her mouth.

[lexkent]

clex fic rec part 1:

Identical Series by Lanning (400,450 words)

summary: Lex loses everything, and finds something better.

If He Would Fall by sabershadowkat (5,291 words)

summary: Lex realizes Clark will always catch him.

Most Regretted by Tallihensia (5,062 words)

summary: A meteor mutant shows Clark what he will most regret in his future. Will Clark learn from it?

Reconcilable Differences by astolat (38,799 words)

summary: Luthor Family Values.

Soothing out the Hurts by Tallihensia (4,977 words)

summary: If one learns to harm people, one must also learn to heal. Superman accidentally hurts Lex and decides he has to make up for it.

The Perfect Life by A_Fallen_Sister (9,042 words)

summary: A little Thanksgiving tale. Lex and Clark have been angst-free for years, but life is not entirely without problems.

To Legends by Tallihensia (655 words)

summary: A final toast to legends.

Ants And Other Higher Lifeforms by Dayspring (3,123 words)

summary: He really didn't want to come back as an ant.

Escape Velocity by Bagheera (7,119 words)

summary: What if the meteor rocks had given Lex super speed?

Two Halves by Dolimir (31,254 words)

summary: A 'what if' Lex found Clark before the Kents did story.

Lex and Clark: the New Adventures of Superman by arysteia (16,816 words)

summary: Evil-doers have seized control of the Daily Planet building. Can Clark save the day, rescue Lois, Perry and Jimmy, and reconcile with Lex, all without revealing his secret identity?

Of Gods and Men by Lenore (17,176 words)

summary: What does it mean to be great?

i think that possibly maybe i'm falling for you by Nicnac (3,058 words)

summary: After the incident with Duncan, Lex is quietly asked to transfer to a different school. Lionel decides to send him to Smallville High as punishment for his misconduct, and Lex is chosen as that year's Scarecrow. Luckily, he's saved by local college student and unofficial town hero, Clark Kent.

Sealed with a Kiss by laceymcbain (28,613 words)

summary: Pete: "We're standing in Lex's office with Lana serving coffee right outside and I'm waiting for you to kiss me so we can see if you poison me or not. That's weird, Clark--even by Smallville standards."

Not a Villain by Tallihensia (156,782 words)

summary: When Clark makes a discovery about Conner, honor forces him to tell Lex. Lex comes by to see for himself.

Dancing at The Purple Parrot by laceymcbain (17,965 words)

summary: Lex couldn’t believe it, but the man seemed to be blushing. An awkward stripper in plaid who was blushing. “Oh, no,” Lex murmured to himself. “Oh God, no.”

Fixing Things by Tallihensia (45,049 words)

summary: Lex Luthor is his father's fix-it man for failing companies. But when Lex unexpectedly comes across Clark Kent again, can he fix what went wrong between them eight years ago? And will Clark let him? Through the meteor mutants trying to kill them, Clark and Lex try to find their way again.

Someone To Watch Over Me by Dolimir (22,034 words)

summary: What if the government had stepped in and collected people affected by the meteors when Clark was still a toddler?

Lover's Choice by Tallihensia (3,383 words)

summary: Lex's old lover wants him back in her cold embrace. Clark doesn't want to let him go.

Catharsis by arysteia (4,285 words)

summary: Aristotle says that tragedy purges the negative emotions of the audience. Can angsty porn purge the negative emotions of the Smallville audience? Let's give it a shot. Lex finally calls Clark on a few things.

Devil's Deal by Bagheera (29,560 words)

summary: Lex sells his soul to the devil to bring his son back from the dead. Can Clark get it back for him? 

Cookie Dough & Candy Hearts by Dayspring (3,853 words)

summary: Lex, liquor, and Martha Kent make for an interesting Valentine's Day.

iHero by I I B N F (iibnf) (80,571 words)

summary: Bitten by a radioactive CD player, Lex gets super powers and just about everything he ever wanted, not that he'd ever admit he wanted what he gets.

Cooking Considered As One Of The Fine Arts by Caro (thestarsexist) (2,906 words)

summary: Sometimes part of being a good mother is knowing the best chocolate chip cookie recipe.

Manifest Destiny by Liviapenn (24,180 words)

summary: Giant robots and things exploding.

The Lost Soul by tasabian (4,975 words)

summary: When a malicious act of magic separates Clark's soul from his body, only one person realizes how to help him.

Run by Dayspring (31,667 words)

summary: "The castle blew up right after I dragged him from the shower. We've…we've been running ever since." 

The Reset by tasabian (4,764 words)

summary: An unexpected portal opening in Smallville causes Lex Luthor from 2002 to trade places with Lex Luthor from 2018. How will it change the timeline as we know it?

Purple by Dayspring (13,922 words)

summary: Martha doesn't need an advanced degree in Art to figure it out, but Jonathan might.

Shadows & Stone: Smallville Stories by laceymcbain (83,680 words)

summary: Lex's evening has scored particularly high on the Luthor Scale of Tragic Dates. When he confesses to Toby that he thinks he's destined to be alone, an eavesdropping Clark is determined to change his mind.

Pheromones by Tallihensia (4,009 words)

summary: Lex and Batman take on the Bee Queen. It doesn't quite end up the way they planned and Superman has to step in to save Lex.

Time and Chance by Dayspring (111,267 words)

summary: Lex is pregnant. Nobody's happy. This is an mpreg (male pregnancy story). But this isn't one of those funny, life-is-great mpregs. It's full of bad days and sad days and people being ordinary pain-in-the-butts.

A Mad Season by Dolimir (22,683 words)

summary: An AU look at what might have happened if all of Lex's Smallville memories had been erased when Lionel ordered electroshock therapy.

Golden by CJAndre, Noelle (28,676 words)

summary: Lex smirked at his wishful thinking, but he knew that whatever the situation, he could handle it.

Then, confronted with the sight in front of him, he realized that maybe he couldn't handle it at all.

Memoirs Of An Alien Who Fell To Earth by Dayspring (10,566 words)

summary: See the title. FUTUREFIC.

Feel free to message me if you'd like trigger warnings on any specific fic listed. There's some very dark content here and not all is tagged.

Also @clarklexlois has an excellent clex fic rec list with descriptions, and it's actually what got me into fanfic!💖

[lemonyos]

A Sense of Duty (For Falling) by calamityin

( T | 1 | 11,981 )

No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Bart Allen/Kon-El | Conner Kent Characters: Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bart Allen, Tim Drake, Preston Lindsay Additional Tags: One Shot, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Not Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Dorks in Love, Guilt, Bad Flirting, Friendship/Love, Running Away, Platonic Cuddling, Pining, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Getting Together, Rescue

As the summer grew closer and they all spent more time in the sun, Bart’s hair was turning brighter and brighter. His ginger tints were now overtaking the darker brown and it made his skin glow even more. The smattering of freckles around his face and down his arms were darkening in turn, making him look more like an impressionist painting. or; Kon spends a lot of time thinking about Bart while he's there and while he's not.