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pucksandpower · 7 months

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The Princess and the Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Princess of Denmark!Reader

Summary: in which you follow the time-honored tradition of Danish royalty falling in love with Australians

Note: dedicated to my favorite Dane, @struggling-with-drivers, who had to put up with me taking months to finally get the proper inspiration to write this

“And if you’ll just follow me, Your Majesty and Your Royal Highnesses, I’ll take you to meet Kevin now,” the overly peppy Haas PR representative says as she gestures down the garage.

You force a smile, trying not to physically recoil as you take in the assault of garish Haas branding surrounding you. The white, red, and black color scheme is far too harsh on the eyes this early on a Saturday morning.

“Oh goody,” your younger sister Josephine says flatly, eliciting a snort from your younger brother Vincent.

Your mother, Queen Mary, shoots the two a reproachful look before turning back to the PR rep with a polished smile. “We’re very excited to meet Kevin and support Denmark’s driver.”

The PR rep beams and starts leading you further into the Haas garage, rattling on about Haas’ ambitious goals for the season as you pass mechanics in matching black Haas polos barely paying you any mind.

You internally groan, already dreading the interaction ahead. As the Crown Princess, you’ve long perfected the art of feigning interest, but this weekend has tested even your limits.

“And I know meeting the future queen will just make Kevin’s day!” The rep continues enthusiastically. “He was so honored when King Frederik reached out about you all coming this weekend to support him.”

You resist the urge to snort. More like the royal communications secretary reached out when they realized the Australian Grand Prix overlapped with your visit to your mother’s family in Australia. Nothing like conveniently timing a royal appearance to drum up positive press.

Your younger sister, Isabella, sidles up next to you, linking her arm through yours commiseratingly. At 16, she’s already mastered your family’s signature skill — conveying boredom through a pleasant facial expression.

“I have some fresh sets of Haas merch we would love for you to wear when you meet Kevin,” the rep says, holding out stacks of Haas emblazoned caps and shirts insistently. “It would mean so much to the team for you to showcase your support.”

You force a smile, already shaking your head. “Oh, I’m afraid we can’t wear anything with advertisements or sponsors per royal protocol.”

The PR rep’s face falls slightly before she plasters the smile back on. “Of course, Your Royal Highness, I understand. Shall we?”

She gestures further down the garage to where the Haas drivers are standing with team personnel. Kevin Magnussen spots your approach, nudging his teammate before they turn towards you.

As you reach them, Kevin steps forward first, offering a short bow. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, it’s an honor to meet you.”

You offer your hand, which he takes, bowing again as he brushes his lips over your knuckles. “The honor is ours, Mr. Magnussen. Denmark is proud to have you representing us in Formula 1.”

Kevin smiles bashfully as you drop his hand. “Please, call me Kevin.”

You return his smile politely. “Very well, Kevin it is.”

The rest of your family exchanges pleasantries with Kevin before the PR rep guides you towards the pit wall to observe the action on track. Practice is getting underway, and you’re grateful for any chance to extract yourself from the oppressive Haas environment.

As you exit the garage into the sunlight, you breathe a sigh of relief. Two bodyguards fall smoothly in step behind you as you start down the paddock, taking in the buzz of activity.

You smile softly, the excitement infectious despite your general disinterest in motorsports. There’s something about the frenetic energy at a race that gets your blood pumping.

Your eyes light up as you spot the unmistakable papaya motorhome of McLaren up ahead. Now that’s a team you can get behind. Cool retro appeal and a driver line-up you’ve heard is full of young talent — what’s not to love?

You pick up your pace, eager to get a closer look at the iconic livery, when suddenly you collide headlong into a firm, muscular body.

You gasp as strong arms wrap around you, stopping your momentum abruptly. Your hands brace against a solid chest as you glance up, prepared to stammer out an apology.

But the words die on your lips as you find yourself staring into warm brown eyes set in an unfairly handsome face. The eyes widen in surprise, clearly not having expected the Crown Princess of Denmark to go careening into his arms.

His mouth opens, no doubt to ask if you’re okay, but you stand frozen as the hustle of the paddock fades into background noise.

In this moment, it’s just you and this beautiful stranger. A stranger who hasn’t let go of you yet, one hand still pressed gently against your back.

You know you should pull away, apologize for your clumsiness and be on your way. But something about his eyes makes you want to stay right here, wrapped safely in his arms.

You stand frozen, lost in the stranger’s mesmerizing brown eyes. You vaguely register your bodyguards stepping forward on either side of you.

“Your Royal Highness, are you alright?” Henrik, your lead bodyguard, asks urgently.

You blink, the spell broken as Henrik’s hand lands on your shoulder, gently tugging you back.

The stranger’s eyes widen further as understanding seems to dawn. His eyes flick over the royal crest on Henrik’s suit jacket before moving back to your face, a hint of panic in his gaze.

Before you can offer any reassurance, a voice calls out sharply from behind the man.

“Oscar! What are you doing, mate? We’ve got the strategy briefing in five!”

You watch as the man — Oscar, apparently — glances reluctantly over his shoulder to where a thin harried man bearing a McLaren team pass stands tapping his foot impatiently.

Oscar’s hands slip from your waist as he takes a small step back. “Sorry, I—”

But whatever he was going to say gets lost as the man strides forward, clapping a firm hand on Oscar’s shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s go. No time for chatting up fans when we’ve got quali coming up.”

Oscar allows himself to be steered away, casting one last, almost wistful look back at you before the brisk man hustles him around the corner.

You stare after them for a long moment before Henrik’s voice breaks through your daze once more.

“Your Highness, are you injured at all? Shall I call for a medic?”

You blink, shaking your head quickly as heat floods your cheeks. Honestly, they must think you a simpleton, standing here gaping after a man you collided with.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him quickly. “Just a bit clumsy this morning it seems.”

You force out a breathy laugh, hoping your flaming cheeks can be explained away as embarrassment from your blunder.

Henrik eyes you skeptically for a moment before nodding. “Very well. But please be more careful, Your Highness. Next time we may not be so lucky.”

You nod contritely before allowing Henrik to usher you back towards the Haas garage, your other bodyguard falling smoothly back in step behind you.

As you near the garage, you spot your family gathered by the pit wall, watching as a group of track marshals examines a particularly suspicious drain cover. Your younger siblings all turn as one to look at you, eerily in sync.

The knowing looks on their faces make you shudder. Of the many curses of growing up in a big family, the inability to keep secrets ranks near the top. You’re sure they’ll have the truth out of you before long.

“Nice of you to join us, Y/N,” your younger brother Christian remarks wryly as you reach them. “Have a nice stroll?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. Barely.

“Lovely, thank you,” you reply breezily instead, moving to stand between your mother and Isabella.

You determinedly avoid meeting any of your siblings’ gazes, focusing on the timing sheets instead. But you can feel their curious stares boring into you.

“You look a bit flushed, darling. Are you feeling quite alright?” Your mother murmurs, pressing a hand to your forehead in concern.

“Just peachy!” You chirp in response, internally cringing at the unnatural brightness in your tone.

From your other side, Isabella leans in, voice sly. “You do seem rather … distracted. Anything you want to share with the class?”

You glance at her sharply, taking in her knowing smirk. You narrow your eyes in warning, but Isabella just smiles innocently.

“Oh leave your sister be,” your mother chides. “I’m sure Y/N is just overwhelmed by the excitement of experiencing her first Grand Prix.”

You make a noncommittal noise of agreement, turning your focus back to the timing sheets. Isabella elbows you subtly and you pointedly ignore her, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

You’re immensely thankful when the Haas PR rep appears again, ushering you towards the back to “give the team space to prepare for qualifying,” and drawing your family’s attention away from you.

You trail after your family to the cordoned off hospitality area, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from the proffered cooler.

As the mechanics spring into action around you, Isabella sidles up next to you again, playful smile still in place.

“Soooo,” she drawls, bumping your shoulder with hers. “Who’s got you all flustered then?”

You nearly choke on your water, whipping your head to face her. “What? No one! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Even to your own ears, the denial sounds feeble. Isabella merely arches one perfect brow, clearly not buying it.

You huff out a breath, scanning the room quickly to ensure none of your other family members are in earshot before hissing under your breath. “I may have accidentally careened into a McLaren crew member during my walk.”

Isabella’s grin turns positively feline. “Oh, do tell ...”

“There’s nothing to tell!” you insist, face flaming once more. “We collided and his reflexes were quick enough to catch me before I fell. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure that blush is just because you’re so very embarrassed by your clumsiness and nothing else.”

You scowl and take a long swig of your water.

Isabella chuckles. “So was this mystery McLaren man at least handsome?”

You nearly choke again. “Isabella!” You admonish under your breath.

She holds up both hands innocently, still grinning. “What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question. No judgment here, promise.”

You narrow your eyes, considering her carefully. Before you can think better of it, you mutter reluctantly, “He … wasn’t entirely unfortunate looking.”

“Aha!” Isabella crows triumphantly. “I knew it!”

You shush her frantically, glancing around to make sure her outburst didn’t draw any unwanted attention.

“Do you know his name at least?” Isabella asks, slightly more quietly this time.

You hesitate before admitting, "... Oscar, I think. His colleague called him that.”

Isabella hums thoughtfully. “Very mysterious ...”

You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder. “Oh stop it. Can we please just drop this?”

“Of course, of course,” Isabella relents, though the impish twinkle remains in her eye.

You’re prevented from further interrogation by the start of qualifying. You rejoin your family, studiously keeping your gaze away from your siblings’ knowing looks.

You determinedly put the morning’s events from your mind, focusing on Kevin’s qualifying efforts. Though you can’t help the occasional wish that the handsome stranger from McLaren — Oscar — was the one flying around the track instead.

The session proceeds fairly predictably, with the top teams claiming the top spots and the backmarkers bringing up the rear.

As Kevin pulls into the garage after qualifying 17th, you paste on an encouraging smile.

“Excellent job out there, Kevin! You and the team should be very proud.”

Kevin smiles wryly back at you. “You’re too kind, Your Highness. But I think we all know 17th is nothing to celebrate for a team with our aspirations.”

You nod sympathetically. “Of course, there’s always room for improvement. But you showed admirable pace given the circumstances.”

Kevin inclines his head gratefully at your measured response. “You have a bright future ahead as queen with such judicious words.”

You thank him sincerely for the compliment before your family takes their leave, the day’s obligations finally complete.

As you all pile into the waiting cars, Isabella leans over and whispers, “Do you think Kevin would’ve qualified higher if Haas wasn’t so slow?”

You have to smother your snort of laughter into your hand.

“Without question,” you whisper back. “I think a snail could qualify ahead of Haas at this point.”

Isabella dissolves into muffled giggles next to you as the cars pull away from the circuit, leaving the chaotic world of Formula 1 behind. At least until tomorrow.

***

You stare contemplatively out the car window as the city lights of Melbourne streak by in the darkness. Despite your family’s teasing, you can’t seem to remove a certain McLaren crew member from your thoughts.

Oscar. Even his name sends a flutter through your stomach.

You know it’s foolish to get caught up over a brief collision with a stranger. And yet … those eyes. You can’t shake the connection you felt in that moment, however fleeting.

The car slows to a stop outside your hotel and you make a split-second decision. Turning to your mother, you adopt your most winsome tone.

“Mor, I was hoping you might allow me to go out for the evening. To experience the Melbourne nightlife before we depart.”

Your mother’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Go out? Alone?”

You rush to reassure her. “Oh no, I’ll take Henrik and Simone with me of course. I would just love the chance to explore the city a bit, like a normal young woman.”

You see a flash of understanding on your mother’s face and press your advantage. “In fact, didn’t you and Far meet during a pub crawl?”

Pink stains your mother’s cheeks but her lips quirk up. “I suppose we did. But those were different times ...”

“Please Mor?” You plead. “When will I have a chance like this again?”

Your mother regards you shrewdly for a long moment before sighing. “Oh very well. But Henrik and Simone must accompany you at all times. And I want you back by midnight at the latest.”

You beam, leaning over to smack a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll stay safe.”

As you exit the car, your younger brother Christian pipes up from behind you. “Hey, can I come too?”

“Absolutely not,” your mother shuts him down swiftly, leveling a quelling look at his crestfallen face.

You hide a smile as you sweep into the hotel to change, giddiness rising in your chest. A night out is just what you need to clear your head from a certain handsome distraction.

An hour later you slide into the backseat of one of the discreet royal security vehicles, now wearing jeans, heels, and a silky camisole, your long hair spilling over your shoulders.

Henrik raises his eyebrows at your outfit but doesn’t comment as he pulls away from the hotel, heading for the club district.

When you arrive, the bouncer’s eyes widen at the royal crests adorning your bodyguards’ suits. But a few quick words from Henrik and you’re granted access without a fuss.

The heavy beat of the music washes over you as you enter the fashionable club. Bright lights flash hypnotically over the crowded dance floor. You glance back at Henrik and Simone stationed near the entrance, allowing the music to carry you further inside.

You weave your way to the bar, excitement simmering in your veins. Tonight you’re just Y/N, anonymous clubgoer. No titles, no expectations, no watching eyes judging your every move.

Well, except for your bodyguards of course. But they’re discreet enough to give you space.

You’re so lost in the heady freedom of anonymity that you don’t notice the nearby figure doing a double take. But as you step up to the bar, waiting to order, a now familiar voice sounds behind you.

“Y-Your Highness!” He stammers, nearly dropping the drinks he just received. “I mean, Princess, uh Crown Princess? Sorry, I’m not actually sure—”

You whirl around to see Oscar standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in a button-down and jeans.

“Oscar!” You gasp, a smile breaking across your face unbidden. “What are you doing here?”

Pink stains Oscar’s tanned cheeks. “Ah, well my mates from the team wanted to go out and blow off some steam before the race tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But what brings Denmark’s future queen out to the clubs?”

You shrug lightly, grin turning impish. “Can’t a girl just want to dance and have some fun?”

Oscar’s eyes gleam with understanding. “Suppose she can. Well then, may I get you a drink … er ...”

He trails off, clearly unsure how to address you in this unusual context.

You take pity on him and lean in conspiratorially. “Tonight, I’m just Y/N. No need for fancy titles.”

Relief flashes across Oscar’s face and he smiles. “Y/N it is.”

Soon you’ve got drinks in hand and are chatting easily at a tall table beside the dance floor. Oscar is witty and charming, and laughs freely at your sarcastic commentary about Formula 1.

You’re amazed by how at ease you feel in his presence, the crown’s ever-present weight lifted from your shoulders. With Oscar, you’re not an heiress apparent, but just a girl talking to a boy she really really likes.

When he asks what you think of McLaren, you perk up eagerly. “Oh yes, what is it exactly that you do there? Are you an engineer or mechanic of some sort?”

Oscar’s eyes shutter briefly and he clears his throat. “Ah, something like that. Mostly just tinkering to try and make the car faster.”

He steers the conversation to safer waters before you can inquire further. You make a mental note to look up the full McLaren staff list later and figure out his specific role.

The night flies by in a blur of laughter and stolen glances. Oscar gamely joins you on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on your waist as you sway together.

When at last you note the time, disappointment sinks heavy in your gut. Oscar’s face mirrors your own regret as he insists on walking you to meet your bodyguards.

Outside the club, you turn to him reluctantly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

Oscar shuffles his feet, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Would … would you want to meet up again tomorrow? Maybe outside the McLaren garage before the race?”

Your face lights up. “I’d love that.” Overcome by boldness, you lean in and brush a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Oscar’s hand drifts up to his cheek, eyes dazed. “Brilliant. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You bid him goodnight before allowing Henrik and Simone to usher you into the waiting car, unable to keep the giddy smile from your face the entire ride back.

***

The next morning, you awake with a smile stretching across your face. The memory of Oscar’s brown eyes gazing into yours as you swayed together in the club fills you with warmth.

As you dress and prepare to head to the circuit, an idea strikes. There’s no rule saying you have to spend the entire pre-race hours cooped up in the Haas garage after all.

You slip into the hotel dining room, grabbing a piece of toast. “I’m afraid the petrol fumes in the garage were giving me a dreadful headache yesterday. I think I’ll take a walk around the paddock this morning for some fresh air before the race.”

Your mother’s brows furrow in concern. “Oh dear, that won’t do at all! Yes, a nice walk sounds wise.”

You thank her profusely on your way out, hiding your triumphant smile until the door closes behind you. Phase one complete.

You hold yourself back from rushing through the paddock once at the circuit, maintaining a sedate royal pace. But inside, excitement bubbles through your veins at the thought of seeing Oscar again.

As you make your way to the McLaren garage, your steps falter at the larger-than-life image emblazoned on the wall. Oscar beams back at you, brown hair just barely poking out from under his McLaren cap. The block letters beside the photo proclaim OSCAR PIASTRI #81.

You press a hand to your mouth to smother your gasp. Oscar is a driver? Your Oscar?

Speak of the devil, you spot him emerging from the garage, already dressed in fireproofs with his race suit half hanging around his waist. His face lights up when he sees you, lips curving into that boyish grin that makes your knees weak.

“Good morning!” He chirps, moving in for a brief hug.

You return the hug distractedly, still grappling with this new discovery. As you pull back, you arch a questioning brow at him.

“So … you’re a driver. Funny, I don’t recall you mentioning that last night.”

Pink stains Oscar’s cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, right. I may have omitted certain details about my role here.” His eyes turn pleading. “I hope you can forgive me? I just liked talking to someone who didn’t already know everything about me for once.”

You regard him thoughtfully before allowing a teasing grin to emerge. “Well, I suppose I can understand the appeal of a fresh slate. And it’s not as if I was fully forthcoming either.”

Oscar’s shoulders sag in relief. “Too right. Quite the pair we make, Princess.” His eyes dance playfully.

You open your mouth to respond but are interrupted by a shout from the garage. “Oscar! Debrief in two minutes, let’s go!”

Oscar smiles apologetically. “Duty calls. But let’s continue this later?”

At your nod, he squeezes your hand briefly before jogging back inside. You make your way back to Haas, butterflies still fluttering wildly.

Once the race starts, you have to work to restrain your enthusiasm as Oscar quickly moves up the field. More than once, you catch your lips curving upward as he deftly overtakes a competitor, and have to rearrange them into careful neutrality.

A discreet glance sideways shows your family members focused intently on Kevin’s efforts in the Haas. You allow yourself a small smile. Watching Oscar race with no one the wiser feels like getting away with something deliciously secretive.

The checkered flag finally waves after 58 intense laps. Your heart leaps as the McLaren crew begins celebrating Oscar’s podium finish. You have to force yourself not to join the applause as he climbs from his car, settling for clasping your hands tightly to contain your glee.

Meanwhile, Kevin finishes in 18th position while his teammate Nico suffered a mechanical retirement. You paste on an encouraging smile, tamping down your excitement over Oscar’s podium.

“Nice recovery there at the end, Kevin. Surely the team can build on this result in the next race.”

Privately, you think Haas would be lucky to keep a wheel attached long enough to make it to the end of a full race, let alone fight for points. But you keep that thought to yourself for now.

As your family rises to congratulate a dejected Kevin on completing the race, Isabella leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Not a great showing, I dare say. Perhaps you are considering transferring allegiance to a certain papaya team instead?”

You press your lips together to contain your smile. Trust Isabella to have guessed your conflicted loyalties.

“Indeed,” you murmur back. “One must be open to supporting all teams in the spirit of global unity.”

Isabella’s eyes dance with mirth, but she simply links her arm through yours, giving a sage nod. “Spoken like a true diplomat.”

As the celebrations kick off for Oscar’s first home race podium, you sneak glances over your shoulder, hoping for another glimpse of him through the chaos.

Someday soon, perhaps you’ll be able to cheer for him openly. For now, you hold the image of his smiling face in your mind as you reluctantly follow your family back out of the disappointing Haas garage.

If nothing else, this surprise-filled weekend has shown you that your heart will not be so easily commanded. And it seems to have rather fixated itself on a certain charismatic McLaren driver.

***

You hover near the paddock exit, half hoping to catch one last glimpse of Oscar before your departure. Your family made their polite farewells to the Haas team and you seized the opportunity to slip away.

You’ve just resigned yourself to missing him when hurried footsteps sound behind you.

“Princess! Wait up!”

You whirl around to see Oscar jogging towards you, face freshly showered but still flushed with elation. He draws up before you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave,” you smile brightly. “I had to come say a proper congratulations for your podium first!”

Oscar ducks his head bashfully even as his eyes shine. “And, well, I hoped maybe you were cheering me on out there today?”

Heat floods your cheeks as you let out an embarrassed laugh. “You know I can’t answer that. But I will say you drove brilliantly and I’m so pleased for your result.”

Oscar’s grin widens, clearly reading between the lines of your diplomatic answer.

“Well I’m glad I could end your weekend on a high note after the woeful introduction to Formula 1 from Haas.”

You groan good-naturedly. “Ugh yes, I think Kevin was grateful when I finally made myself scarce from that garage of doom.”

Oscar chuckles before his expression turns wistful. “I suppose this means you’ll be heading back to Denmark now though?”

You shake your head, curls spilling over your shoulders. “Oh no, we’re spending a few more weeks visiting my mother’s family in Tasmania first.”

At Oscar’s look of surprise, you elaborate, “My mother is originally Australian. Her family is from Tasmania.”

Understanding dawns on Oscar’s face. “Well how about that! Danish royalty certainly seems to have a taste for us Aussies.” He winks playfully.

Heat blooms in your cheeks but you rally to return his banter. “I suppose we do. Though from what I hear, McLaren seemed rather keen on Danes once upon a time as well.”

A rather in-depth Google search earlier that day taught you that Kevin Magnussen once raced for the papaya team. You rather wish he never left, if only so you did not have to suffer through the tedium of being in the Haas garage for the past two days.

Oscar barks out a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth. “Too right, you’ve got me there.” His laughter fades to a soft smile. “But I can’t say I blame my predecessors in the slightest.”

The tender look in his eyes makes your breath catch. Before you lose your nerve, you hurriedly dig out your phone.

“I should give you my number. So we can keep in touch.”

Oscar’s face lights up as he scrambles for his own phone. You quickly swap devices, inputting your contact info and trying not to notice how his name looks lighting up your screen.

Once you’ve traded phones again, an awkward silence descends. You clutch your phone tightly, unsure how to say goodbye when this thing between you feels so new and delicate.

Oscar clears his throat, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “Well, I suppose I should let you get on your way ...”

“Right, yes ...” You trail off, searching for the right words. Because as silly as it sounds, the thought of not seeing Oscar’s smile for who knows how long makes your chest unexpectedly tight.

Acting on impulse, you step forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Oscar’s arms immediately curl around your back, clutching you close.

You breathe him in, imprinting this moment in your memory. The noise of the paddock fades away until it’s just this — the two of you suspended in time.

Far too soon, Oscar pulls back reluctantly. His eyes search your face like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Travel safely, Princess. I’ll see you soon.” His voice holds a promise.

You nod, not trusting your voice. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk steadily towards the exit. Your bodyguards fall in step behind you.

You don’t look back, though you can feel Oscar’s gaze on you until you disappear from view. As your car pulls away, you finally chance a glance backwards, just in time to see Oscar still watching wistfully after you.

Your breath escapes in a shaky exhale and you clutch your phone like a lifeline. Everywhere else suddenly feels much too far away.

***

You collapse back onto your bed, phone already pressed to your ear before the first ring even finishes. Oscar picks up on the second, voice warm and teasing as always.

“Eager today, are we Princess?”

You roll your eyes even as your lips quirk up. “Oh hush, you know you wait just as anxiously for my calls.”

Oscar’s answering chuckle makes your heart skip a beat. “Guilty. I’ll gladly admit your voice is the highlight of my day.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as you get comfortable against the pillows. “Flatterer. Now distract me from the drudgery of royal life with some F1 gossip. How go things in the glamorous world of racing?”

“Oh where to even start!” Oscar launches eagerly into the latest paddock drama — teammate clashes, contract disputes, and salacious hookups. You listen eagerly, living vicariously through his tales.

“Meanwhile Lando has been his usual chaos gremlin self ...” Oscar continues, recounting his teammate’s latest antics.

You laugh until your sides ache, picturing the outrageous scenes. “Honestly, I don’t know how McLaren copes with you two!”

“We keep things lively, that’s for sure,” Oscar agrees, audibly grinning. “Although we’d love an even livelier paddock with a certain Danish princess around again ...”

He leaves the statement hanging tentatively. You chew your lip, heart racing as you gather your courage.

“Funny you should mention that … I’ve been thinking lately that it would be nice to attend a race again soon.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale crackles through the phone. “Really? You’d come to another race?” His voice turns playful. “Any particular reason for the sudden interest?”

You laugh, hoping he can’t hear the breathlessness in it. “Oh you know, miss the atmosphere, the excitement ...” You pause before adding softly, “Getting to see a certain Aussie driver again.”

Oscar makes a pleased little noise that sends butterflies swirling wildly. “Well I’m sure that driver would be absolutely thrilled to see your face in the paddock again.”

Warmth spreads through your chest, emboldening you further. “As it happens, my godmother is the Queen of Belgium. So it should be easy enough to arrange an appearance at the Belgian Grand Prix.”

“That’s perfect!” Oscar enthuses. “Spa is one of my favorite circuits too. Say you’ll be there?”

His boyish eagerness melts your heart. “I’ll speak to our communications secretary this week. I’m sure they can make it happen.”

“Brilliant.” The tender hope in Oscar’s voice finds its mirror in your own thudding heart. A new chapter is beginning.

You chat longer about lighter topics until Oscar reluctantly says he should get some rest before practice tomorrow.

“I suppose I should let you go then ...” He trails off reluctantly, neither wanting to be the one to end the call.

You clutch the phone tighter, casting wildly for an excuse to keep him on the line. “Wait, you haven’t told me what ridiculous outfit Lando is wearing today!”

Oscar huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, words don’t do justice to the monstrosity. I’ll send pictures so you can experience it fully.”

“It’s a deal.” You know you’re only delaying the inevitable, but the thought of hanging up is unbearable.

Just then, the bedroom door crashes open and your younger brother Christian strolls in.

“Hey Y/N, Mor wants to know if … is that Oscar you’re talking to?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

You frantically shoo him away but Christian swoops in and plucks the phone from your hand. “Sorry mate, gotta steal my sister back. Royal duties call and all that. But great chatting, bye now!”

Before you can wrestle the phone away, Christian ends the call with a cheeky grin.

You smack his shoulder indignantly. “You little brat! I was right in the middle of important diplomatic relations!”

Christian just cackles gleefully. “Oh yeah, I could tell. Your dopey romantic sighing was a big clue.” He laughs harder at your outraged stammers.

“Just you wait until you’re madly pining over someone, I’ll get my revenge,” you threaten.

But inside, not even Christian’s teasing can diminish your euphoria. The promise of seeing Oscar again soon eclipses all else.

***

Your heels click rapidly over the pavement as you sweep through the Spa paddock gates. Bodyguards trail discreetly behind but you barely notice them, eyes scanning the bustling crowd for one face.

And then you see him. Oscar stands just ahead, back turned as he bounces on his toes, head swiveling in search of you.

Joy bubbles up in your chest. You break into a run, calling his name. “Oscar!”

He whips around, eyes lighting up when they land on you. His arms open wide and you launch yourself into them with a breathless laugh.

Strong hands grip your waist, swinging you in an enthusiastic circle before setting you back on your feet. Neither of you make any move to step back, standing tangled together.

“You came,” Oscar murmurs, voice awed like he can’t quite believe you’re real.

You lean into him, his warmth chasing away the months spent missing him. “Of course. After all, I made a promise to a certain driver.”

Oscar’s answering smile outshines the sun. Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, keeping one hand entwined with yours.

“Well then, allow me to escort you inside properly.” He presses a quick kiss to your knuckles before leading you towards the paddock entrance.

After scanning your VIP guest pass, courtesy of Oscar, you pass through security hand-in-hand, giddy smiles fixed in place.

The paddock buzzes with activity but you only have eyes for Oscar as he guides you straight to the McLaren garage.

Mechanics glance up curiously as you enter behind Oscar. He squeezes your hand, leaning in close.

“Ready to meet the team, Princess?” At your answering nod, he steers you confidently through the organized chaos.

You run a suddenly nervous hand over your hair as Oscar approaches a genial looking man conversing with a slimmer bearded man.

“Zak, Andrea — there’s someone special I want you both to meet.”

The two men turn, eyebrows raising in polite expectation. Oscar gently tugs you forward.

“This is Crown Princess Y/N of Denmark. Y/N, meet Zak Brown, our CEO, and Andrea Stella, team principal.”

Zak’s eyebrows climb higher but he recovers smoothly, extending a hand. “Your Royal Highness, welcome. We’re honored to host you in our garage.”

You return his firm handshake. “The honor is mine, thank you. Your team has been so welcoming.”

After greeting Andrea as well, Oscar steers you further inside just as a mop of fluffy brown hair zooms by.

“Oscar, mate! There you are, I’ve been ...” The words die on his lips as he spots you, mouth falling open comically. His eyes dart between you and Oscar rapidly.

“Lando, come meet the princess!” Oscar calls out cheekily.

Lando snaps his jaw shut, looking utterly bewildered but offering you a hasty bow. “Your Highness! I mean, lovely to meet you, really.”

Amusement flickers through you at his gobsmacked expression. Oscar shoots you a playful wink over Lando’s shoulder as he scrambles to regain composure.

“But, wait.” Lando glances between you again in confusion. “You mean all those times you cooed ’good morning, Princess’ over the phone … you were talking to an actual princess!”

Oscar bursts out laughing while you press a hand to your mouth to smother your own giggles. Lando flushes but eventually joins in your laughter.

After extracting a promise to explain everything later, Oscar steers you away so they can focus on final prep.

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of during the race before I have to suit up,” he promises, getting you settled with refreshments.

The anticipation builds until finally the cars are screaming away from the grid in a blur of color. Your nails dig into your palms as positions shuffle wildly on the first lap.

But soon Oscar settles into a rhythm, battling wheel to wheel with Lewis Hamilton. You’re on your feet with every overtake, yelling yourself hoarse.

The final laps loom with Oscar still fighting for a podium finish. But suddenly disaster strikes for the leaders. Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc collide attempting to lap a backmarker on the Kemmel Straight.

You watch in disbelief as both the Red Bull and Ferrari limp to a stop off the track, clearing the path for Oscar to sweep through into the lead.

The McLaren garage roars in elation as Oscar maintains the gap and finally, finally crosses the line to claim his maiden Grand Prix win.

Chaos erupts as a stampede of papaya uniforms makes its way towards parc fermé but Oscar’s performance coach Kim grasps your arm urgently. “Quickly, he’ll want you there for this!”

Kim rushes you down towards the area where Oscar guides his car to a stop. He vaults out, pumping both fists and clambering atop the chassis in triumph.

Your breath catches at the sight of his windswept hair and exultant grin. As McLaren swarms Oscar, his gaze catches on you at the barrier, pressed close by Kim.

In two strides Oscar is right there, joy and adrenaline shining in his eyes. His hand cups your cheek … and then his lips find yours.

The roar around you fades away. For one perfect, suspended moment, your world narrows down to Oscar’s lips slanted over yours, his fingers tangled in your hair.

When you break apart, eyes flying open, the full reality crashes back in. But with Oscar’s breathless laugh warming your skin, the rest of the world no longer matters.

***

You pace the plush hotel carpet, nerves jangling as you await the imminent video call with your family. Since Oscar’s podium kiss yesterday, you’ve been hyper aware of your phone blowing up with notifications but too anxious to check them.

A brisk knock precedes your royal secretary poking his head in. “The call is ready whenever you are, Your Highness.”

Squaring your shoulders, you take a seat at the polished desk as the large monitor springs to life. Your family’s faces fill the screen, ranging from sympathetic (Isabella) to highly amused (Christian).

Before you can get a word in, the royal PR advisors elbow into view, expressions like thunderclouds.

“Your Royal Highness, might we have a word about this … incident from the race?” The chief advisor’s tone drips disapproval.

Ice trickles down your spine but you keep your face neutral. “Of course.”

“I trust you’ve seen the coverage?” At your hesitant nod, the advisor continues, “Then you understand what an embarrassment this is, how damaging to the dignity of the crown.”

You clench your jaw, anger rising. But he barrels on, “Such scandalous behavior, and broadcast globally! You must see how this recklessness reflects poorly on Denmark.”

The rest of the advisors murmur emphatic agreement. Your cheeks burn in humiliation even as you desperately blink back furious tears.

“The narrative has already spiraled out of control. Such associations cannot be tolerated from the future queen.”

The scorn in his tone ignites your temper. But before you can spit out a scathing retort, a commanding voice interrupts.

“Enough!” Your father’s stern face fills the screen, pinning the advisors with an icy glare. They recoil, mouths snapping shut.

Satisfied, your father turns to you, expression softening. “My dear, you’ve done nothing wrong. What matters most is that you’re happy.”

Hope flickers tentatively inside you as the advisors gape. But your father silences them with another quelling look.

“I know a thing or two about duty versus matters of the heart.” His eyes soften, finding your mother. “I’ll not see my daughter denied the same chance at love that brought me such joy.”

Your mother smiles gently, affection shining through the screen. On her other side, Isabella squeezes her shoulder in solidarity.

The fight drains from the advisors under your father’s resolute gaze. With a few grumbled concessions, they disconnect from the call.

Your muscles uncoil in relief as your attention returns fully to your family. Isabella waggles her eyebrows.

“Soooo … looks like someone had an eventful race!”

Heat floods your cheeks but you can’t suppress a giddy smile. “It just sort of happened in the heat of the moment.”

“This Oscar must be something special,” your mother remarks kindly.

Your insides turn to mush at the memory of Oscar’s kiss. “He really is. I can’t explain it, but it feels … right with him.”

Your normally stoic mother looks touched. “Then he has my blessing.”

On her other side, Christian smirks. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re in looooove.” He exaggerates a swoon, cackling when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Hush dear, let your sister be happy,” your mother chides, swatting his shoulder before smiling indulgently. “Reminds me of another young prince long ago, besotted with an Australian girl ...”

Your father laughs, eyes crinkling. “Too right, darling. Clearly our Y/N takes after me.” He winks at you. “We Danes do seem to have a weakness for Aussies.”

You groan good-naturedly at the gentle teasing, buoyed by your family’s support. With their love behind you, the rest no longer matters.

You conclude the call with hugs blown through the screen and a heart full to bursting. No matter what the coming days hold, you won’t be facing them alone.

Later, a hesitant knock interrupts your contented musings. You open the door to find Oscar, eyebrows pinched anxiously.

But at the sight of your radiant smile, the tension melts from his frame. His hands settle comfortably on your waist like coming home.

“So ...” he begins, nose scrunching up adorably, “Think your family will let you keep me around?”

You answer by pulling him down into a long, sweet kiss. When you finally separate, foreheads pressed together, Oscar sighs out, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Your answering laugh fills the space between you as he lifts you effortlessly into a spinning embrace. The setting sun gilds the hotel room in amber, basking you both in warmth and promise.

Let the world say what they will. You’ve made your choice, the only one your heart would allow. And with Oscar’s arms encircling you now, you know you’re right where you belong.

***

“Come on, it’ll be great! When’s the next chance you’ll get to come down under?”

Oscar’s pleading face fills your laptop screen, bottom lip poking out beseechingly. You try to stand firm, but your resolve is crumbling.

“I don’t know … won’t I be imposing on your family time?”

Oscar waves a hand breezily. “Nah, Mum and Dad have been hassling me nonstop to bring you for a visit. Trust me, they’ll smother you with Aussie hospitality.”

You chew your lip thoughtfully. A trip together does sound tempting. And you’re endlessly curious to see where Oscar grew up.

Sensing your wavering, Oscar presses his advantage. “There’s so much I want to show you! The beach I learned to surf at, my favorite cafes and shops ...”

His voice turns coaxing. “And just think, falling asleep under the southern stars ...”

Your heart flutters traitorously. Oscar knows your weakness for astronomy. With a defeated huff, you nod.

“Oh alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for next month.”

Oscar whoops, pumping a victorious fist. “Yes! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

The rest of the call passes in eager planning until Oscar reluctantly disconnects to start his day. As the screen goes dark, butterflies swell in your stomach. A whole trip together!

The weeks crawl by agonizingly until finally you’re boarding the royal jet bound for Melbourne, giddiness rising with each mile.

Oscar is waiting when you deplane, sweeping you up joyfully the second your feet hit the tarmac. You cling to him, breathing in the scent of home you’ve missed so much.

As the hug extends well past proper etiquette, your bodyguard Henrik pointedly clears his throat. You spring apart, blushing when you meet his knowing gaze.

Oscar just grins unrepentantly, grabbing your hand to lead you towards where his parents are waiting.

You spot them immediately — Oscar’s smile mirrored on his mother’s face and his kind eyes reflected in his father’s crinkled gaze. They hurry over, clasping your hands warmly.

“Your Royal Highness, we’re so honored to finally meet you!” His mother gushes. “Oscar’s told us so much, I feel as if we know you already.”

You smile, charmed by her easy manner. “The honor is mine, Mrs. Piastri. Please, call me Y/N.”

She pats your hand merrily. “Of course, dear! And you must call me Nicole. Now come, let’s get you home and settled.”

The ride to Oscar’s childhood home passes quickly, filled with lively conversation. His parents’ sweet banter reminds you so much of your own.

When you arrive, Nicole loops her arm through yours, bustling you inside. “We’ve freshened up Oscar’s old room for you, I do hope it’s comfortable.”

You take in the posters of racing legends and cricketers adorning the walls, the cluttered bookshelves full of well-loved texts. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

“Excellent!” Nicole claps her hands. “Now, you two get settled. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

She disappears down the hall with a parting wink that makes Oscar flush beet red. You stifle a laugh and let him tug you further inside.

Dinner passes in a blur of delicious food and easy laughter. Chris’ eyes twinkle knowingly as he refills your wine.

“We’re just delighted to finally meet the girl who’s made our Oscar so happy.”

Oscar covers his face in exaggerated mortification, but his fingers squeeze yours under the table. You lift your joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles when his parents aren’t looking.

The peaceful mood continues as Nicole breaks out photo albums. You coo over baby pictures of Oscar, smothering laughter at his gap-toothed grin and wild hair.

Yawns eventually take over and everyone reluctantly shuffles off to bed. In Oscar’s room, you borrow his old karting club shirt to sleep in.

Oscar looks up from turning down the duvet, eyes darkening as he takes you in. “This was a terrible idea, you looking so cute in my clothes.”

You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose before climbing into bed and patting the space next to you. Oscar obliges, pulling you close and nuzzling into your hair.

Outside the window, the infinity of the southern skies beckons. But here in Oscar’s arms, you have everything you need.

Oscar hums contentedly, dropping a kiss to your hair as your eyes drift closed.

“Sweet dreams, my princess,” he whispers. You float off cradled in his warmth, perfectly at peace.

The rest of the trip passes in blissful domesticity — lazy beach days, intimate dinners, long talks under the stars. Meeting Oscar’s family feels like coming to a second home.

On your last night, you creep outside to sit curled against him on the back porch, committing every detail to memory.

“I don’t want this to end,” you whisper into the quiet night.

Oscar presses a lingering kiss below your ear. “It’s only the start for us.”

And basking in his touch, the infinite potential of the future unfolding before you, you know he’s right. This is just the beginning.

***

You smooth your hands over your dress, peering anxiously out the palace window overlooking the winding driveway. Any moment now, the car bringing Oscar should pull through the gates.

It’s his first time visiting the palace and meeting your family officially as your boyfriend. You know they’ll love him, but nerves still flutter in your chest.

The crunch of tires on gravel draws your gaze back outside. You watch Oscar emerge from the car, craning his head back to take in the towering palace facade.

Unable to wait any longer, you gather your skirts and hurry downstairs just as he steps inside the grand entryway.

Oscar turns at the click of your heels, face melting into a smile. In a few quick strides, he sweeps you into his arms, spinning you joyfully.

You cling to him, breathing in the soothing scent of home you’ve missed. When he sets you down, hands come up to frame your face tenderly, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“There’s my beautiful girl. I’ve missed you so much, Princess.”

Heart swelling, you lean in to capture his lips in a kiss that conveys weeks of longing. Oscar responds urgently, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

A pointed cough interrupts your reunion. You pull back to see your brother Christian smirking knowingly.

“Well now I see why you were so eager for Oscar’s visit. Should I come back later?”

You stick your tongue out at him even as a blush stains your cheeks. Taking Oscar’s hand, you lead him towards the family wing.

“Come on, everyone’s excited to finally meet you properly.”

Voices carry from the dining room as you approach. Inside, your family looks up, faces alight with warmth and curiosity.

Your father strides forward first, clasping Oscar’s hand firmly. “Oscar, welcome. We’re delighted to have you here.”

Oscar returns the handshake graciously. “The honor is mine, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.”

More greetings follow before your mother guides everyone to the table. Oscar pulls out your chair, pressing a discreet kiss to your temple as you sit. Happiness bubbles up inside at having him here with your family.

Dinner passes enjoyably, conversation flowing. Oscar charms them all effortlessly with his quick wit and humor. Laughter fills the room, the atmosphere light and intimate.

With dessert finished, your siblings seize their chance to grill Oscar playfully.

“Sooo tell us,” Isabella begins, propping her chin on her hands. “What exactly are your intentions with our dear sister?”

Oscar just grins, unfazed. “Why, to make her happy every single day, of course.”

You melt at his simple sincerity, grasping his hand under the table.

“Good answer!” Christian crows. “But know if you ever hurt her, you’ll have the entire Danish army to answer to.”

Despite his teasing tone, you know Christian means every word. Oscar inclines his head solemnly.

“You have my word such a day will never come. Her happiness means everything to me.”

Your siblings appear satisfied, moving on to pepper Oscar with questions about his career and interests. He takes their antics in stride, witty comebacks drawing fond laughter from your parents.

The relaxed family atmosphere reminds you so much of that first dinner at Oscar’s childhood home. Your heart swells with quiet joy at how seamlessly he fits here too.

Eventually Oscar politely extracts you both, citing early flights in the morning. Alone in the hall, he sags against the wall in exaggerated relief.

“Whew, your family is something else! I think that interrogation was more intense than any press conference.”

You laugh and swat his shoulder before lifting on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You were wonderful. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Oscar’s eyes soften. “Me too, Princess. Being here with you feels like home.”

Heedless of any lingering eyes, you kiss him again under the twinkling chandelier.

A loud retching sound interrupts you. “Ugh, get a room you two!” Christian complains, dodging your swat.

Oscar just tugs you closer with a chuckle. “Don’t worry mate, I plan to.”

He silences Christian’s protests with another searing kiss. And surrounded by Oscar’s warmth, you can’t bring yourself to care who sees.

***

Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. You lay curled against Oscar’s chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his heart.

The steady rhythm soothes you, but your own heart feels anything but calm. There’s something you need to discuss, but nerves stall your tongue.

Sensing your tension, Oscar’s hand comes up to sift gently through your hair. “Penny for your thoughts, love?”

You lean into his touch, gathering courage. “I was just thinking about the future. Our future.” You twist to meet his gaze. “I know it’s still early days for us, but if this continues to get more serious ...”

You trail off uncertainly, but Oscar’s eyes are warm with encouragement. Bolstered, you continue.

“There are certain expectations that come with being attached to the heir to the throne. Traditions and duties to learn.”

You watch Oscar’s face closely, but he simply nods thoughtfully. “Of course, that makes sense. I’m happy to learn whatever I need to.”

Relief trickles through you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, smiling softly down at him.

“For example, even before my mother was engaged to my father, she decided to learn Danish. The protocol and duties, the public role … it was a massive life change.”

You take a bracing breath. “I don’t expect you to make such changes overnight. But someday, if this continues on the path we hope ...”

You trail off meaningfully. Oscar’s hand comes up to cradle your face. “Hey, if being with you means learning Danish, or attending stuffy banquets, or anything else, I’m in this 100%.”

His eyes bore into yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to build a life together.”

Emotion clogs your throat. You have to swallow thickly before responding. “Well, maybe we start small then. How about I teach you a few phrases?”

Oscar grins, pulling you back down against him. “Ja, det lyder perfekt.”

You jerk back in surprise, swatting his chest. “You brat, have you been practicing without telling me?”

Oscar’s eyes dance with laughter. “Maybe just a few key phrases. Wanted to surprise you.”

His smile turns tender. “I’d love nothing more than for you to teach me, sweetheart.”

Happiness bubbles up inside you. You snuggle closer, thinking. “Alright, let’s start simple. Like hej simply means hello.”

Oscar repeats the phrase dutifully, brow furrowing in concentration. You cover his hand with yours.

“Jeg elsker dig,” you murmur, gazing into his eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” Oscar echoes. “What does it mean?”

Sudden shyness has you ducking your head. “It means I love you.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale lifts your head. He grasps both of your hands, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” he repeats reverently.

Emotion clogs your throat. You lean in, whispering against his lips, “Jeg elsker dig, Oscar.”

The kiss starts soft and unhurried, a confirmation of feelings conveyed best without words. Oscar’s arms wrap securely around you as the kiss deepens, pouring every ounce of love and promise into it.

When you eventually break apart, Oscar keeps you cradled close, dropping kisses into your hair. “What else can you teach me?”

Happiness bubbles up at his tentative Danish endearment. You settle back against him, whispering translations as his steady heartbeat lulls you towards sleep.

But too soon, Oscar is reluctantly packing to leave, both clinging to these last private hours before he has to set off for the next race.

You wind yourself around him, unwilling to let go. Oscar holds you close, murmuring promises of next visits and calls into your hair.

As you finally part at the airport, his whispered “jeg elsker dig” warms you from the inside out. No matter the miles between you, your hearts remain entwined.

***

You adjust the diamond clips in your elegantly twisted updo, scanning your reflection critically. The deep blue gown hugs your frame perfectly, but nerves still flutter in your stomach.

Because tonight, Oscar will be attending his first official function as your partner — a lavish gala in honor of the new children’s hospital bearing your mother’s name.

A knock precedes Oscar peeking his head in, hands clapped over his eyes. “Safe to look?”

You smooth your skirt with a shaky exhale. “Yes, come in.”

Oscar drops his hands, mouth falling open. “Wow. You look absolutely stunning tonight, my love.”

He takes your hands, eyes roving appreciatively over you. “Going to have to beat all the envious blokes away with a stick.”

You laugh, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Oh hush. You look rather dashing yourself, Mr. Piastri.”

And he does in his impeccably tailored tuxedo, hair swept back neatly. You brush a piece of imaginary lint from his lapel, nerves melting away under his warm gaze.

“Shall we?” He offers his arm gallantly. You lay your hand atop it, spine straightening.

“We shall.”

The ballroom glitters under fairy lights as you make your entrance, immediately garnering interested looks and murmurs. On your arm, Oscar draws admiring glances of his own with his rakish good looks and easy confidence.

You greet various dignitaries and philanthropists, Oscar a steady, charming presence at your side. As you speak with the hospital’s key figures, his hand at the small of your back anchors you.

But as the speeches drag on, Oscar leans in subtly. “Is it terrible I’m already bored senseless? I’d rather actually meet these kids we’re meant to be helping.”

You hide a smile behind your wine glass. The same restlessness plagues you as schmoozing patrons preen and prattle.

As dessert wraps up, an idea strikes you. You catch Oscar’s eye, tilting your head meaningfully at a side exit before excusing yourself discretely.

Understanding dawns on his face and he trails casually after you. In the entry hall, you hurry to a secluded alcove, grabbing his hand.

“Quick, while we won’t be missed. Let’s actually go see the children.”

Excitement flashes across Oscar’s face. “Brilliant thinking. Lead the way, Princess.”

Adrenaline courses through you as you sneak out to the waiting car, bodyguards eyeing you curiously.

“Rigshospitalet, please. Quickly.”

At the children’s hospital, you sweep inside, Oscar at your heels. The receptionist gapes as you approach.

“So sorry to drop by unannounced. We were hoping there might be a chance for us to visit with some of the patients?”

The receptionist’s mouth opens and closes before she stutters, “O-of course, Your Highness, right away!” Clearly your boldness has paid off.

You exchange exhilarated looks with Oscar as she pages a nurse to escort you up. On the cheery pediatric ward, you peek into rooms, greeting curious families.

At one doorway, a gasp stops you short. A little girl sits up in bed, pointing.

“Mama, it’s the princess! And her boyfriend!”

You glance at Oscar to find him rubbing his neck bashfully. Clearly his fame extends beyond the F1 sphere here.

You laugh and enter slowly. “We were hoping we might visit you, if that’s alright?”

The girl — Else — nods eagerly, blond braids bouncing. Her mother rises to curtsy but you wave her off kindly as Oscar produces a small plush racecar from his pocket, to Else’s delight.

As you chat and play with Else, joy lights up her face. For a short time, she’s just a normal girl again. Your chest aches at her bright spirit despite her poor health.

All too soon, a nurse taps her watch. As you make your goodbyes, Else throws her thin arms around your waist.

“Thank you! This was like a fairytale.” Over her head, her mother mouths a tearful thank you of her own.

You hug Else gently before kneeling down. “It was our honor. You stay strong, little one.”

Her returning whisper warms your heart. “Don’t worry, I will!”

Similar scenes play out in room after room. Your cheeks ache from smiling but it’s a welcome ache. The children’s awed joy makes the real reason for tonight crystal clear.

Watching Oscar kneel patiently as a shy boy shows him a prized toy car, your heart clenches with love. Catching your gaze, Oscar’s eyes mirror the same emotion.

Far too soon, your bodyguards notify you it’s time to return before your absence draws notice. A chorus of disappointed groans follows you out.

Back at the gala, you slip in just in time for closing toasts. No one seems the wiser about your little detour.

Under the table, Oscar squeezes your hand. The contact says it all — this is what truly matters. Not accolades or commendations, but joy brought to hurting hearts.

You know you’ll be back. Both of you. Not for galas or acclaim, but for the chance to see young faces light up, if only for a moment.

Late that night, you slow dance alone in the empty ballroom, music and laughter faded. Oscar’s arms circle you from behind, chin tucking onto your shoulder.

“I think tonight was the most important royal function I’ve ever attended,” he murmurs.

You cover his hands with yours, leaning back into him with a contented sigh. No more words need be said.

The rest of the world may see events like tonight as social currency and networking. But you hold the truth in your heart — the only currency that counts can’t be bought, only given freely through love.

***

Two Years Later

You smooth your hands over your dress, pulse thrumming as you await the imminent news conference. Just hours ago, the palace formally announced your engagement to Oscar, sending the public into a frenzy.

Now, you’re about to face the media together for the first time as an engaged couple. Press stands crowd the palace gardens, cameras poised and ready.

At your side, Oscar seems calm and collected, fingers threaded loosely with yours. But you sense the storm brewing beneath his tranquil surface.

You reach up and gently adjust his suit collar, fingers lingering on the lapels as you meet his eyes. He gives you a small, grateful smile before you both turn to face the expectant crowd.

Because today also brings another announcement — one that will upend Oscar’s world irreversibly.

Your father steps forward first to formally confirm the engagement and expound on Oscar’s character. As he returns to your side, Oscar squeezes your hand and you nod in encouragement.

Oscar clears his throat, stepping closer to the microphones. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Y/N and I are over the moon at the chance to spend our lives together.”

He gazes at you softly before continuing. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world to have won the heart of Denmark’s lovely princess.”

You have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless then and there. Cameras flash brightly as Oscar details your romantic (and heavily abridged) love story, punctuated with charming wit.

But gradually, his mirth fades. With another fortifying hand squeeze, he steels himself for the harder part.

“While I’m elated at this new chapter ahead, it also brings difficult changes. I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1 following this season’s conclusion.”

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Oscar’s grip tightens as he pushes forward.

“As a member of the royal family, I will no longer be able to continue racing competitively. I am grateful to have achieved my dream this year of winning the championship.”

His voice falters briefly and your heart clenches. Racing is Oscar’s passion — having to walk away is unimaginably hard.

Oscar visibly gathers himself. “But as difficult as this is, marrying Y/N is worth any sacrifice. She is my true dream now.”

He turns to you then, eyes glistening. “The honor of being your husband eclipses any trophy or medal. You are my greatest victory.”

Emotion clogs your throat and without thinking, you wrap him in a fierce embrace. The rules of propriety fade away, only your pride and love for Oscar remain.

His arms clutch you close as flashes erupt around you. But in this moment, you see only each other.

Eventually you separate and Oscar takes your hand once more, gracing you with a tender smile. He turns back to the microphones for one last address.

“Til Danmark og det danske folk. Jeg lover at tjene jer med ære, respekt og kærlighed.”

The Danish press reacts first, visibly surprised and impressed at Oscar’s speech in their native tongue.

You blink back a fresh wave of tears at his poignant promise — to serve Denmark with honor, respect, and love.

Overcome with emotion, you step forward to the microphones as well.

“Oscar’s love for me and Denmark is clear to all who meet him. I am truly blessed to have found such a selfless, caring partner.”

Your voice wavers with feeling. “Though it grieves me to see his racing career ended prematurely, I could not be more proud of the man he is.”

You reach for Oscar’s hand, gazing at him through tear-filled eyes. “He gives up much out of love for me. I only hope I can bring him a fraction of the joy in return.”

Oscar’s fingers tighten around yours, eyes shining with affection. Cameras flash furiously at your raw display of love and emotion.

But you remain lost in Oscar’s eyes, the rest of the world fading away. In this moment, all that matters is your shared devotion and the bright future stretching before you.

Questions start flying from the excited press corps but Oscar politely extracts you both, ceding the floor to the waiting palace officials.

Alone inside once more, Oscar sags against the wall in clear emotional exhaustion. You wrap him in your arms, heart aching for the pain this transition causes.

Oscar clings to you tightly, face pressed into your hair. “I meant every word,” he whispers fiercely. “You are my whole world now.”

You draw back just far enough to meet his eyes, hoping he can see the depths of your love reflected there.

“I know, min kæreste. We’ll face this new future together.”

The answering kiss speaks what words cannot. No matter what comes, your love remains constant.

A new path lies ahead now, one you will walk hand in hand, till the end of your days.

***

Five Years Later

The roar of engines draws nearer as your car nears the Copenhagen street circuit. In the seat beside you, Oscar bounces his leg restlessly, face alight with anticipation.

In the backseat, your three-year-old daughter, Margrethe (affectionately called Maise for short), mimics her father’s excitement, chattering cheerfully about anything and everything.

You reach over to still Oscar’s jostling knee, smiling indulgently. “Easy there, we’ve barely arrived and you’re already wound up.”

Oscar shoots you a boyish grin. “Can you blame me? It’s been so long since I was last in the paddock. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Your heart swells with quiet awe once more at the sacrifices Oscar has made for your future together. While racing still runs through his veins, his duties as Crown Prince of Denmark now take precedence.

But today offers a joyous reunion, with Oscar instrumental in bringing Formula 1 racing back to Danish soil for the first time since 1962.

As the car pulls through the paddock entrance, Oscar cranes his neck eagerly, drinking in the familiar organized chaos. Before the door even opens, you hear a familiar voice shouting.

“He lives! The prodigal prince returns!” A blur of McLaren papaya hurtles towards Oscar as he steps out.

Oscar just manages to brace himself before Lando Norris tackles him in an exuberant hug. Laughter bubbles out of Oscar as he returns the embrace.

“Good to see you too, mate. It’s been way too long.”

You round the car to find Oscar’s former team already swarming him, clapping his back and jostling each other good-naturedly to greet their long-lost driver.

Oscar’s eyes shine as he falls back into easy banter, trading inside jokes and reminiscing. With Maise balanced on your hip, you hang back contentedly, letting Oscar have this moment.

As the reunion finally winds down, Lando gestures to you and Maise. “And who do we have here? Don’t tell me this little beauty is your daughter?”

Oscar beams, waving you both over. “She is indeed! Lando, meet my little girl.”

Lando pretends to stagger back in shock. “No way, our little Oscar is all grown up and domesticated now!”

Oscar shoves him playfully before sweeping Maise into his arms. “What can I say, my fast living days are behind me now.” He kisses Maise’s wavy hair, eyes finding yours. “I’ve got all I need right here.”

Your insides turn mushy at the adoration in his voice. The years have only deepened your love further.

More drivers trickle over to greet Oscar, ribbing him good-naturedly about his new royal status. But the obvious affection underlying the teasing is clear.

Zak Brown claps Oscar on the back. “It’s so good to have you back, even just for a day. You and your family should stay, watch the race from the garage!”

For a fleeting moment, naked longing flashes across Oscar’s face at the thought of experiencing race day excitement again up close.

But reality settles back in quickly, his expression turning regretful. “That’s a lovely offer, truly. But I’m afraid we’ll have to make our way to the royal box.”

He bounces Maise gently, tone wry. “Some of us have a job to do handing out trophies later.” Maise giggles and tugs at his ear happily, blissfully unaware of the wistfulness simmering beneath her father’s smile.

You slip your arm through Oscar’s, offering a comforting squeeze. His answering smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

After more fond farewells, you exit the nostalgic bubble of the garage. Oscar pauses, taking a moment to just breathe and gather himself.

You shift Maise to your other hip, wrapping your free arm around his waist. Oscar leans into you gratefully, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Can’t believe it’s been five years already,” he murmurs. “Feels like another lifetime.”

You smile up at him sadly. “I know, my love. But look at everything you’ve accomplished for Denmark in that time. This race wouldn’t even be happening without you.”

Oscar huffs a small laugh. “Too right. Who needs driving when I’ve got you two anyway?”

He tickles Maise playfully, eliciting delighted giggles. The melancholy edge has left his eyes now, replaced by contentment.

Hand in hand, with Maise toddling happily between you, the three of you set off together towards the royal box. The Danish Grand Prix awaits, along with the bright future you continue building as a family.

This may no longer be Oscar’s world, but he now shapes the path for future generations of drivers. After the race, as Oscar graciously awards the beaming winner while Maise excitedly cheers from the side of the podium, you know this is precisely where he’s meant to be.

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

Text

Remy fic for @littlekidsteve

It has only been a little while since you and Remy had managed to escape the void along with Electra, Laura and Blade before biding them farewell, all the while you and Remy took a long walk as you both tried to figure out what you were going to do now that you were free.

Out of everyone you and Remy were the closet and so the idea of saying goodbye to one another after everything felt wrong, Remy had become apart of you as you became a vital part of him, so much so to the point neither of you could fathom an life without the other being apart of it some way or another.

‘Got any plans now that we’ve escaped the void?’ You asked him and he hums while shuffling his playing cards, a habit you noticed he had whether he was in need of a distraction or in deep thought.

‘I have been in the void for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever get out mon Cher, nor would get out so I made my inescapable prison a home, so all this is…rather new to me.’ Remy admits as he looked over at you with a soft expression before nudging you with his shoulder. ‘You have lived a life before the void, I think you’d be better suited for that question.’

You chuckled as you rubbed the back of your neck. ‘Yeah well I’m pretty sure they’ve pruned it by now, so I’m just as lost as you are and I haven’t been in the Void nearly as long as you have.’ You told him and Remy couldn’t help but chuckle as he went to grab your hand, intertwining it with his own. ‘Then we shall find a way to navigate our new life, together.’ He promised as he then brought your hand up to his lips before softly kissed it.

‘You promise?’ You asked.

‘I promise mon Cher.’ Remy echoed and suddenly everything felt like it was going to be okay, the void was long behind you both as the future was on the horizon, waiting for your both to take it

And soon enough with time and patience you and Remy found yourselves in your own little apartment -that was funnily enough not far from where Wade, Blind Al and Logan lived- and living a quiet, domestic lifestyle, just like you had wanted for a long time but couldn’t due to certain circumstances. You couldn’t help but smile softly upon first seeing Remy with an peaceful expression on his face as he slept, he looked beautiful and at ease with everything that you found yourself admiring him in silence, not wanting to ruin this moment by sneezing or shifting your weight and waking him by accident.

‘Wade is right. You are beautiful.’ You muttered lowly as you memorised his face and the way the light from the window made his skin glow an almost golden hue, making him look ethereal, as you took the time to appreciate the way his eyelashes kissed the apples of his cheeks. Remy was a handsome man and you were in no shape or form to deny it when you were more then aware of this face since the moment you met, but it wasn’t his physical appearance that drew you in but more or less his heart and his ability to light up anything that he touched, and soon enough you found yourself falling for the Cajun Frenchman more then you’d originally thought.

Remy has consumed your every waking and sleeping thought, claimed your body and heart as his own with how his eyes never seemed to leave you the moment you entered the room, smiling at you warmly before cross over to stand next to you for the rest of the day while occasionally showing off a new card trick he learnt. Even during combat Remy would stay close by to keep you safe when he felt that someone was getting too close for comfort by throwing one of his kinetically charged playing cards at them, and when you look over at him he just winks at you and continues the fight.

‘I can sense you watching me mon Cher.’ Remy said as he smiles cheekily, opening one eye to look at you as he brought a hand behind your head, pulling you in for a brief but sweet kiss before pulling away to look at you. ‘Am I really as beautiful as you say?’ He adds in a whisper as though he didn’t want anyone else to hear your conversation.

‘You can’t be blind to your own beauty can you Remy?’ You asked as you moved a hand to rest upon his chest, tapping your fingers against his skin in an unheard rhythm.

‘I’m not, I just want to hear you say it.’ Remy replied as he found his eyes wandering across your face with fondness and admiration. You couldn’t help but laugh as you rested your head against his chest, nuzzling into him. ‘You are indeed beautiful Remy Lebeau, the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on.’ You admit as you look at him, pressing a kiss to his chin as you felt his arms tighten on you, restraining you from moving away from him.

‘You flatter me Cher, but it is you who’s the most beautiful.’ Remy says as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in the shampoo and conditioner you used and closing his eyes, never having the luxury of experiencing peace before in his life but finding himself falling in love with it as fast as he did with you. Remy felt as though he could stay in this bed forever with you but knew with your plans for later today he wouldn’t, though that didn’t stop him from doing whatever he could to keep you in his arms.

‘Wade, Logan, Laura and their friends are coming over soon.’ You murmured.

‘I know.’ Remy relied.

‘We should get up soon.’ You continued.

‘I know.’ Remy repeated as he kissed your head again, cuddling you further into his chest. ‘We’ll get up soon, but for now can we just…stay here, please Cher.’ He adds in a plea and you couldn’t help but feel yourself slipping into sleep the longer you stayed in Remy’s comforting and strong arms.

‘I guess five minutes wouldn’t hurt.’ You said as you nuzzled yourself into his neck, kissing it. ‘Then we’ll have to…to…wake.’ Before you could finish your sentence you had found yourself fast asleep as Remy smiled down at you. ‘I’m sure they won’t mind Cherie, they’ll understand.’ He says before joining you in dream land.

Bonus:

‘Where the fuck are they?!’ Wade shouted as he, Logan, Laura, Al, dogpool and the rest of his friends stood outside in the hallway to yours and Remy’s apartment after banging on the door for the past five minutes.

‘They’re probably still asleep, best we leave them be before we fucking wake the rest of the apartment complex.’ Logan said, side eyeing Wade as he sifted the welcome gifts in his arms.

Wade pouts and just as they were about to leave, a rugged and scruffy looking you and Remy opened the door to greet them as Wade laughs. ‘You two looked like as though we’ve interrupted something between you two.’ Wade the leaned towards you to whisper. ‘Is the French dick that good?’ You glared at him as you flicked him on the forehead, watching him as he winced and rubbed his forehead with a pout.

‘We may or may not have overslept thanks to someone.’ You nudged Remy in the side as he smiles cheekily and brings an arm to your waist, tugging you into his side. ‘Guilty as charged.’ He said proudly as you both stepped aside for everyone to enter your shared apartment before joining them, happy to have known such weird yet beautiful people.

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writing-fanics · 8 months

Text

Playful Banter ‘Stayed Gone’

Alastor x Reader

[a/n: I’m not a song writer don’t be mean if the lyrics don’t match up I’m sorry I tried! I haven’t written for Alastor since I think 2020. The entire song isn’t here in lyrics it opens when Alastor and you are walking down the stairs]

Song

Alastor and You, walked down the stairs and noticed sinners gathers around the Voxtech television. You glanced up at him knowingly, and you couldn’t help put clip your heels together. As you made you swiftly made your way, to the radio tower.

‘While they’ve hid in radio, we've pivoted to video’

‘Now their medium is getting bloody rare.’

‘Hell's been better since they’ve split’

You grinned dusting off your clothes; bringing the cup of tea taking a sip. As you glanced ver at Alastor smiling, “Let’s have some fun shall we, darling?” He asked, and you lifted your head with an upturned smile. “We shall.” You chuckle, as you turned on the broadcast. Leaning in closer into the mic.

‘Where's they’ve been? Who gives a shit?!’

You had a devilish smile plastered on your face, “Salutations!” You and Alastor said into the microphone, grinning ear to ear. “Good to be back on the air,” You smiled, holding your cup of tea in hand.

You were ready for some fun, excited, Vox didn’t know what he was getting into with you two.“Yes, we know it's been a while.” You two sang, into the microphone.

“Since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast” You two said into the mic, “Sinners, rejoice!” Alastor and You exclaimed, as the crowd seemed to gather around the old timey radio.

The sinners gathered in front of both, glancing back and forth between the two. “What a dated voice!” Vox spat, and You could only chuckle as you brought the mic closer.

“Instead of a clout-chasing mediocre video podcast.” You and Alastor sang, smiling

“Come on!” Vox shouted, angrily annoyed. As the two went on, “Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure?” Alastor sang, and making fun of Vox.

“Fitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?” You sang, smirking and standing beside Alastor.

“Ignore their chirping!” Vox spat.

“Every day, he's got a new format!” Alastor sang, grinning. Vox groaned in annoyance.

‘You're looking at the future, he's the shit that comes before that!’

Alastor sang, “Is Vox as strong as he purports?” as other sinners listened in the feud, “Or is it based on his support?” You sang.

“He'd be powerless without the other Vees,” Alastor sang, then leaning closer into your respective microphones. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“And here's the sugar on the cream,”Alastor sang, leaning closer into his microphone a a devilish smile on his face.

“He asked us to join his team!” Alastor sang, revealing the truth. “H-hold on!” Vox stammered, nervously. You smiled grinning ear to ear leaning closer holding; your microphone close to you.

A devilish grin grew across your face, “A jealous one he surely is!” You sang, stifling back a laugh. Remembering when Vox asked if you wanted to go out. As in start a relationship with you. You couldn’t help but laugh back then. And still laugh even now.

You chuckled slightly,“years ago he asked if we could court!” You sang, into the microphone. You could only imagine the horrified and embarrassed looked, on Vox’s face right now and thought alone. Made your grin wider.

“I said no, and now he's pissy.” You say down in your chair, next to Alastor and smiled. “That's the tea!” Alastor and You sang, sitting back into your respective chairs smiling. Leaning back in them kicking your legs back, as you two sang.

“You two old-timey pricks, I'll show you suf-ffering,” Vox stammered, as his screen started to buffer. “Uh oh, the TV is buffering!” You and Alastor sang into the microphone, with you adding slight coo at the end.

Vox stammered as he started to shorting out, his screen buffering continuously as he was about to lose single. “I'll destroy you, yo-ou lit-tle—” He stammered, suddenly all power across Pentagram City went out. The only source of power coming from the radio tower, attached to the Hazbin Hotel.

Alastor chuckled statically, “I'm afraid you've lost your signal,” You said, grinning. You looked down for a moment before looking up. Your eyes glowing a bright red.

“Let's begin.” Alastor sang into staff, as he slowly transformed into his demon form. Placing down bis staff as his eyes glowed bright red, and his antlers grew bigger. His form slowly started to resemble that of a wendigo.

“We’re gonna make you wish that we’d stayed gone, tune on in,” you two sang, as you slowly transformed. Your body stretching and neck becoming longer.

As your body stretched, into its demonic form. An ‘X’ revealed itself on the side of your neck. As your nails became sharp claws, as you gripped the control board. “When I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run,” You two sang leaning closer, as your eyes and body grew longer.

“Oh, this will be fun,” You and Alastor sang, smiling. Vox stared at the screen in disbelief, as it went blank and fell back into his seat, “Fuck!” he whined, their laughter continuing to taunt him. Leaning back into your chair you smiled, “We still got it.” You said, smiling of course the two of you would. Nothing beats, radio. “I couldn’t ask for a better co-host.” said Alastor, as he smiled at you. “And I couldn’t ask for a better husband,” You said, blowing a kiss his way a smile on your face.

Wonder what Vox’s reaction would be since he still hasn’t moved on, from you rejecting him. To him noticing a ring on your finger.. hmm I’d imagine he’d be buffering

a/n: I did my best with this.

#alastor x reader #Alastor x you #Alastor x y/n #Alastor radio demon x you #Alastor radio demon x y/n #Alastor radio demon x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel #vox Hazbin hotel #Stayed gone #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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srjlvr · 17 days

Text

,, 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT MY EX ’’

JUST when you thought your life couldn’t get any worse after your biggest break up of the year, someone posted your (very) much hateful list about your ex.

PAIRING. Ex!jake X Ex-fem!Reader

GENRE. fluff(look at me putting this first in genre) , angst , exes to lovers.

WARNINGS. y/n is kind of a bitch towards jake ig, jake is a big big player, lots of miscommunications, also very much not proofread!! i shall add more if i missed something!

WORD-COUNT. 7.8k+

NOTE. there we go again with this story cover, im outta here, graphics and me are not friends UGH i gotta start paying for someone to actually do this for me smh. anyways!! everything here is FICTIONAL!! i do NOT see jake nor any of the characters like that in any way!! if you don’t like it—youre very welcomed to skip!!

you thought you had your brightest future in your hands.

being an ace student, scoring A+ in all of your tests and winning the teacher’s favoritism, all of that while also being the most popular cheerleader of your school.

you’re literally living everyone’s dream, not only being a popular student, but also dating the most popular student who also happened to be your highschool’s basketball team leader, jake sim.

girls swoon for him, beg him to notice them, even go as far as to send him gifts that costs probably more than their own house, but no, his eyes search for one person and one person only, and that’d be you.

“i’m sorry, i can’t continue all of this”

“this? what do you mean—“

“i mean us, this relationship, i don’t think it’s going to work anymore”

“oh”

“that’s all you got to say?”

“do you expect me to cry and get on my knees, begging you to regret this?”

“what?”

“speechless now, are we? i’ve been waiting for this day”

denial was your best friend, and you might’ve realized it a bit too late.

you were hurt, fuck you wanted to break down and cry. but he doesn’t deserve to see that.

you ignored so many red flags in your relationship, you were lovesick and pathetic, all for him, it broke you apart. but you do not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

“y/n…”

“i don’t want to hear it jake, i’m actually glad you took this step”

you’re not glad at all, you do love him.

“i wish you the best” he said quietly and left.

this whole relationship felt like a mistake for the both of you, it was toxic, too toxic.

like those you see on TV shows where the popular girl and guy just date for fame and nothing more, yeah, just like that.

but you loved each other, you really did. communication was your biggest enemy, and that’s what lead to this whole toxic relationship mess.

“what a fucking asshole! it hasn’t even been a month and he’s already all over the girls! pathetic”

“yeji!”

your best friend rolled her eyes, “am i wrong? he was always a player”

you shook your head.

she wasn’t totally wrong, even before you started dating he used to hold a different girl in his hands every other day.

big player indeed.

you on the other hand, no matter how popular you were, you stayed reserved. many boys tried their luck, but it was no use.

though being reserved, you didn’t mind the looks the other boys gave you, and took every chance you had to show yourself off.

therefore it was so surprising to everyone that you and jake started dating.

the biggest player and the reserved popular girl, dating? this had to be a joke.

the truth is that jake had been keeping his eyes on you for long, and he knew that he has to hold you in his arms and show you that a player like him can actually love.

at first it took him time to break down your walls, but he did his best to assure you that he’ll never let anything bad happen to you.

that was….well, until he decided to break things off.

“yeah, he was, once a player, always a player” you agreed with her, glancing at jake and rolling your eyes when noticing that the girl he was flirting with is having too much fun.

“let’s just go, i’m tired of watching those clowns” you sighed and walked away.

“y/n! i’m sorry you had to witness….well—“

“it’s okay sunghoon, really”

before you and yeji could walk too far, sunghoon stopped you.

sunghoon is jake’s best friend, you and him weren’t the best at making conversation while you and jake were still together, but when you broke up, something changed between the two of you.

“don’t mind him, he can be a total asshole sometimes”

“sometimes?” yeji chuckled and sunghoon nervously scratched his nape.

“thank you sunghoon, i’m fine though” you gave him a weak smile and walked away.

“well if there’s one thing that’s good about jake is that his best friend is smoking hot and totally into you!!” yeji clapped her hands.

you rolled your eyes in disbelief, “yeji i don’t think you get it, he’s just being nice because he feels bad about his best friend acting like a dickhead”

“oh y/n, i can read face expressions, he’d definitely ask you out if only things weren’t so difficult”

“don’t push it!”

“that’s the ONLY good thing about jake though, i feel bad for that walking red flag, he’s so bad at keeping his relationships”

“i should make a list of things that i hate about him and send it to every girl in school so they’d know they need to run away from him!” you joked.

“i’d definitely help you, i’m sure as hell that it’ll make his ugly face vanish” she was joking as well.

you both were joking, you knew it very well.

so how the hell did you find yourself sitting in your room desk, writing a list about the things you hate about your ex?

“one, he’s smoking hot, his visuals can mess up your mind” you’re writing everything down as you’re saying them out loud.

complimenting him on your first point? way to go girl!

“two, he’s a big fat player, once your date is over he’s already probably running to find his next” you rolled your eyes to this one.

not even a month passed and he’s already flirting with others? what a loser!

“three, so full of himself! it actually hurts to see a person who loves himself so much he could probably die!”

that one time he wouldn’t stop talking about how many girls asked him out in one night? yickes!

“four, so toxic and possessive! don’t want you around any guy while he walks around and talks with any girl he sees”

when he got jealous that you spoke with your childhood friend about the most random thing ever? disgusting!

“five, puts milk before cereal, i don’t even need to explain!”

a walking red flag or what?

after finishing the rest five points you had to make, you decided to call it a night and drifted away to dreamland.

“psst”

“hm?”

“i know we were joking about the hateful list yesterday, but i actually made it”

“what?!”

you put your hand over yeji’s mouth and giggled.

“it just felt so good! i feel so relieved now! i don’t even want to post it, but it just felt so right to just let everything out”

“so proud of you, girl! finally let it go and move on!!” she pat your shoulder and then proceeded to hug you.

“where did you hide that list?” she raised her brow.

“i just brought it with me today, i put it in my locker and i’ll probably burn it by the end of the day, i just wanted to show it to you first before i do it”

“now that’s my girl!”

yeji is the bestest friend you could’ve ever asked for. she was always there for you.

ever since you were little you were stuck like a glue, you had each other’s backs and you were more than thankful to have her in your life.

“hey y/n! i was just wondering, do you perhaps have notes for the last maths class? i missed it because of practice and i’d really like some help” sunghoon showed up with a grin.

“sure, they’re in my locker, i’ll bring it to you” you nodded and he shook his head.

“i’ll come with you”

“oh? okay”

he followed you to your locker and waited for you to give him the notes.

“what’s in this paper?” he asked as he looked at the very cute designed paper.

“oh? that’s nothing really” you shrugged it off and quickly closed your locker, “bring them back to me when you finish”

“i will, thank you!” he said and walked away.

you opened your locker again to take out the paper, you sighed heavily and shoved it into your bag.

“six, he can’t keep his promises! if he’ll ever tell you he’ll play some video games with you, don’t believe it!!” yeji read it out loud and laughed.

you laughed with her, suddenly finding this list so funny.

“seven, his puppy eyes are definitely misleading! he’s a one manipulative bitch and he won’t be afraid to use his cute puppy eyes!” she rolled her eyes, “is that a good or a bad thing?”

“bad thing obviously! it’s literally written there that he’s manipulative!”

“girls love puppy eyes! you should know that!” she preached and you rolled your eyes.

you spent the rest of your lunch break giggling and laughing about this stupid list.

“i’m returning this to my locker, i’ll burn it after practice today” you told her and she nodded.

“i need proof of that, video call me when you do it!” she said and sent you off to practice.

arriving at the field, you found your friends and practice started.

“hey, y/n!” as you were packing everything in your bag and exiting the dressing room, sunghoon, who was already there waiting for you called you.

“hey, you” you grinned.

“will you let me do the honor and walk you home today?” he asked ever so nicely.

“sure!” you smiled and began to walk with him, completely forgetting about the paper you had to burn.

“i can’t believe you forgot the paper in your locker! what if someone steals it?” yeji complained over the phone right after you texted her that you forgot about it.

“yeji! no one knows it’s there except you! it’s not ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ story! you can calm down” you sighed.

you were right though, who knows this locker holds up something that can completely ruin not only yours but also your ex’s image?

“i guess i’m gonna let this slide today, but i’m going to burn this paper with you tomorrow!”

“hm”

“how was your walk with sunghoon~?” she teased.

“it was cool, he’s such a cute guy, surprised that he’s still single honestly”

“i think we both know why”

“i’m gonna go sleep!” you changed the subject and before she could ask any more questions you hang up.

the next day you found yourself yet again a victim to yeji’s new gossips while trying to take out a few things from your locker.

“so as i was saying—are you even listening to me?” she looked at you while you looked at the mirror that was hanged in your locker and applied your lipstick on.

“hm? oh yeah”

“you’re a lost case”

“we’re gonna burn this paper today! and then i will finally be able to feel free from this relationship” you smiled, explaining to her that it was the only thing on your mind.

“you’re damn right! this hate list about jake is going to be burnt today!!”

“this hate list about who?”

you jumped hearing someone else’s voice behind you.

“oh! yena, didn’t see you here” you chuckled nervously.

“just here to tell you that coach said there’ll be another practice today, i came here privately because, you know, you’re too busy in other things to care” oh she’s a one of a kind bitch.

you gave her a sarcastic smile, “i already know that, but thank you”

she returned the fake smile and walked away.

“that was so close!”

“you should be more careful, this girl is just looking for something that’ll bring you down” yeji whispered and you nodded, “i guess you’re right, at least she didn’t really hear all of this”

school ended and so did your practice, yeji leaned on the wall next to your locker as you searched for the paper.

“i could’ve sworn i put it right there!!”

“y/n think!! maybe you put it in your bag?”

you handed her your bag for her to search it.

“oh! i found it! it was between those notebooks” you giggled, “but i could’ve sworn i put it under all of my books”

“at least you found it” she sighed and put her hand over your shoulder.

“let’s burn this bitch!”

looking at the little fire you made with yeji made you feel excited and mostly happy.

you let all your thoughts together with this paper to burn.

your relationship was toxic, but this time was the most beautiful time in your life.

you and jake really did love each other.

one time you were sitting together in the library, trying to study the new material your teacher gave you.

“what are you up to?” he asked.

“studying, that’s why we’re in the library” you smiled.

“that’s so boring!” he pout. you giggled and pecked his lips, “you can be on your phone or something until i finish”

“no” he shook his head, “i want to do something with you”

“jake—“

“let’s go! i’m taking you on a date!” he grabbed your hands and dragged you out.

you spent the rest of your day together, sharing a few snacks and joking around.

it was the perfect kdrama couple everyone dreams of.

you ended up sleeping at jake’s house that day, and he made sure you knew how much he loves you.

“i can see our future together,” he smiled and held your hands, “me, a famous basketball player and you, my pretty partner”

you were sitting right across him on his bed and raised a brow, “oh? so i get to do nothing?”

“i’ll make sure to work hard so you could rest and never work for your entire life” he hugged you and pecked your cheek.

“remember that promise, i’ll use that against you in the future” you joked.

“that means…..you too see a future for us?”

“of course”

he put his hand on your cheek and moved you closer to him, he kissed you so deeply you could feel his love to you was sincere.

that small flashback of this romantic moment made you smile, you really do miss him.

but a dark memory came right away, not leaving any place for the sweet memories to stay,

“oh so i didn’t pay attention for you for once and now you’re giving fuck eyes to my best friend?” he yelled.

“you’re such an idiot sometimes! sunghoon was actually kind enough to apologize on your behalf! you were basically embarrassing me in front of everyone!”

“so now sunghoon’s the hero? go to him then!”

“why are you so stup—“

“i don’t want to hear your complains, y/n!”

“oh really?—“

“yes! go away!”

thinking about those moments reminded you why you’re still here looking at the hateful list you made about him.

he was toxic, possessive, and full on narcissistic, it was so hard to love him sometimes.

yeji came up to hug you when she noticed a few tears streamed down your face.

“let it go now, you already proved yourself you don’t need him” she smiled and you nodded.

“let’s go home”

the next day felt a lot better than the others, the sun was shining brightly, birds were singing, a big smile was smeared all over your face and most importantly, you felt free.

“morning, y/n!”

“morning yeji! lunch is on me today”

“i look up to you so much, my queen” she faked a bow and you giggled.

the day is going to be amazing, and so are the other days! you’re so sure of it.

you decided to keep up with jake’s game and even started flirting with other guys, not even minding if your ex was watching or not.

usually you would, but not now, or never again.

“what’s your fucking problem?”

while talking to some guy you don’t even remember the name of, jake grabbed your wrist and stopped the conversation.

“what do you mean—“

“i mean flirting with him, he’s supposed to practice—“

“you don’t return from break for the next ten minutes, i can talk with him in the meantime” you rolled your eyes.

“coach said—“

“don’t make up things now and don’t act like you care, we’re already over”

“y/n—“

“don’t play this game with me now jake, you can return to your fangirls and leave us alone” you scoffed and released his hold on your wrist.

he rolled his eyes in annoyance and walked away.

“did you see the way he looked at you? i bet you my whole money that he still loves you” yeji sounded as annoyed as he was.

“be ready to go bankrupt because there’s no chance”

“this asshole thinks you’re still in a relationship, he’s sooooo pathetic!”

“yeji, let’s stop talking about him” you groaned and she nodded.

you were in a really good mood today but he totally just ruined it.

the next few days went by so fast, you felt happier by each day that comes by, and nothing could ruin your mood.

that was until today’s morning.

as soon as you stepped your foot in the school’s hallway, people started gossiping.

“y/n! about point five, does he really put his milk before cereal? that’s disgusting!” a random student just popped up and asked you that question straightforwardly.

“huh?”

a few more students gathered around you and you couldn’t even understand a bit of what they were saying.

“excuse me! coming through!” yeji yelled and pushed everyone aside.

when she noticed you in the middle of the circle, she grabbed your hand and dragged you away.

“are you crazy? why would you post the list?!” she asked frustratedly.

“what list?”

“don’t play dumb!”

“no i’m really serious, what are you talking about?”

she glanced up at you and showed you her phone.

“no way!” you gasped.

someone posted your list!

“yes way! are you that stupid?”

“yeji that wasn’t me! i would never do something so dumb!” you reasoned yourself.

right, why would you even post this if you knew it was going to ruin your reputation?

she sighed and walked back and forth.

“it wasn’t me either!” she said almost instantly.

“yeji, you’re the only one who knows about this list” you said suspectedly.

“y/n, do you really think i’d post this? after shit-talking about him and threatening to kill him multiple times?” she looked genuinely hurt.

you know her ever since you know yourself, she wouldn’t do such a thing.

“you’re right” you sighed.

“so,” she spoke, “who’s the asshole?”

“i wish i knew” you scoffed, “i’d like to know who wants to ruin my image”

there were a few seconds of silence, “yena!” you and yeji shouted together with wide eyes.

“this bitch!” yeji spat, “she probably heard us talking about it!”

“oh i’m gonna give her some good bea—“

you were cut off by the bell and had to head straight to class.

you waited for everyone to get in and told yeji you’d come right after you get to your locker and take your notes.

the hallway was empty and you sighed in relief.

“YOU!!” you heard someone shouting across the hallway.

guess it wasn’t so empty after all.

you looked at the person and found the last person you wanted to see.

“you ruined my life!” the person just got closer and closer and you closed your eyes tightly.

“is it because of our break up? that’s how you get back at me? you ruined everything!”

you sighed heavily.

“and what’s with those points? eight, he’s such a nerd for physics it actually hurts, he won’t stop talking about it all the time, nine, thinks his dog is the cutest and will argue you if you don’t think like him, and ten, he’ll use your deepest secrets against you, he cannot be trusted???” he read out the list for you in disbelief, although you already know it.

“those are all lies aren’t they? why did you even—“

“well what am i supposed to do now? it’s already posted, and no! these are not lies! they’re the truth, if you only cared about how i felt in our relationship you’d realize how much of a dick you were” you scoffed and closed your locker, prepared to go to class since you were already too late.

you glanced at jake one last time, he looked speechless, confused and hurt.

were you too much? maybe. but he deserves it.

“hey y/n! should i be careful if i want to date you? i don’t want a hateful list posted about me if i ever break up with you” a random student yelled from across the hall as you were busy talking with yeji.

you glared at him and decided not to reply.

“ignore them, this whole thing will probably vanish in a few days” yeji caressed your back and you sighed.

“i hope you’re right—“ before you could continue, a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from yeji.

you looked at the person in charge and when you noticed it was very angry looking jake, you started panicking.

“hey, let me go!” you tried to let go of his hold but it was no use.

“why didn’t you delete it yet?” he asked angrily when you got into an isolated place.

“delete what?”

“are you that stupid?”

“obviously if i’m still talking to you”

“i’m talking about the post”

“it wasn’t me!” you argued.

“sure, and i’m actually queen elizabeth” he rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you.

“think about it, why would i ruin my reputation?”

“i don’t know, to get sunghoon’s attention? that’s all you ever did” he shrugged.

“you’re a piece of shit, you know that? try to figure who it was on your own” you spat and walked away, leaving him deep in thoughts.

“oh! there you ar— are you okay?” sunghoon who casually bumped into you noticed your frowned eyebrows and tightly closed fists.

“go to your friend, i think he needs you more than i do”

he slowly nodded, still worried about you but you just kept walking away.

“hey dude! what’s going on?” sunghoon noticed his friend’s weird behavior.

“sunghoon,” jake spoke, “who do you think posted it?”

sunghoon shrugged, “it could be anyone”

“who wants to destroy my image? do you think there’s someone that does?”

sunghoon looked at his friend in disbelief, does he really think only about himself now?

“maybe it was someone who wants to get back at y/n and not you? not everything revolves around you, you know”

ouch. truth hurts sometimes.

but it seemed to hit a nerve and jake suddenly got up.

“yena!”

“ugh! just when i thought my life got better without him now i have a huge scandal because of him” you whined.

“are you sure it was only because of him? i mean, you did leave it in your locker and…” yeji was about to continue but stopped when she noticed your glare.

“on who’s side are you?”

“every coin has two sides and you know it” she pressed her lips and you sighed.

maybe she’s right, instead of always blaming your ex about your life problems, you should face the truth sometimes.

“well if it isn’t the famous y/n!” you heard a voice you wished you’d never hear again.

“yena! it’s so good to see you here” you faked a smile, “what brings you here?”

“i study here” she answered sarcastically and you tried to resist the urge to punch her in the face.

“anyway, your list got so famous that everyone at school talks about it! i think you should thank whoever posted it”

“maybe i should! it really got me some fame, even your boyfriend came up to me today” you teased and her face turned red.

“you’re lying!”

“your boyfriend would say otherwise”

she scoffed and ran away, “tell him i agree to go on a date with him!” you shout as she walked away.

“you should go easy on her” yeji, who was there to witness everything that happened shook her head.

“it was her who posted it, she deserved it” you huffed and sped up your walk to the classroom.

your last class was finished after what felt like a year and as you got out you finally took a deep breath.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, try not to think about what happened today!” yeji sent you off and you smiled at her.

as soon as you stepped your foot in school you wished you could run away.

before anyone would notice you, you tried to sneak around and look for yeji.

“y/n!” god how much you hate universe.

“what do you want jake?” you answered rudely.

“just wanted to say thank you for that list,” he said sarcastically, “it’s not like you ruined my reputation or something like that, hey by the way! do you think i should make one too? i think that would be fun”

“don’t you dare” you groaned.

“then let’s date again”

“what?”

“are you deaf? i said let’s date again”

“what makes you think i’d actually do that?”

“well, we could lie to everyone that we tried to trick them into thinking that we hated each other to see how others will react” he shrugged, “think about it, it’ll save our image, plus you owe me”

“i owe you nothing”

“it’s because of you that we’re in this shitty situation!”

“you can just let it be and people will forget about it sooner or later, now let me go—“

he caught your wrist before you could leave.

“one week, one week of just pretending and then we’ll part our ways peacefully”

truth is, his idea didn’t ring so bad, but you were scared. you were scared you’d fall in love with him all over again.

“what is it, some fake dating love story? you can go fake date sunghoon and that’ll create a bigger scandal than this one” you shoved your hand and rolled your eyes while walking away.

a part of him just wanted to hold you back again in his arms, for real.

“hey jake!” sunghoon greeted him and jake gave him a weak smile.

“did you just talk with y/n? i thought you were angry with her?”

“i don’t know, sunghoon” he sighed, “i just want my old life back”

“yeah you kinda fucked up your life, hey why did you even break up with her in the first place?”

when sunghoon heard about your break up, he was the first to come up to jake and ask him about the reasons, only then he realized jake didn’t really want to speak about it at all.

but now jake felt ready, he felt like he needed someone to hear his side of the story, every coin has two sides right?

there they were, sitting in the field’s seats, looking at the empty space, it was just the two of them.

“when we first got together i was so happy, you already know how much i liked her that time, you even helped me planning all those dates” jake sighed.

“‘sunghoon how do you take someone on a date without telling them straightforward it’s a date?’ i remember you asking me those questions nonstop!” sunghoon laughed.

“yeah, i was on cloud nine, but,” jake paused, “i was scared to lose her, i was so scared to lose her to the point i became overly possessive and anxious when she was around other boys, i was so used to have a one time thing and i didn’t know how to keep relationships, it all became messed up, this whole relationship happened in the wrong time”

sunghoon pat his friend’s shoulder, feeling sad for him.

“each time i tried to fix it, it got worse and i didn’t know how to stop, so i just decided to break it off, it’s better to let her live her life than to stay selfish and keep her to myself” jake sighed yet again, emphasizing the disappointment he feels with himself.

“i actually wanted to say this for awhile, but deep down i know you’re insecure about yourself, and you tried to hide it by boosting your ego and lying to everyone about your true self” sunghoon chuckled, “you were some kind of an asshole before you started dating y/n, and even became more of an asshole after getting into a relationship, you should’ve just talked it out with y/n”

“well it’s too late now isn’t it? she made that very clear that she hates me by writing down that list” jake groaned.

“maybe you should just make one about her and ruin her chances to have any relationship in highschool as well” sunghoon shrugged but jake looked at him curiously.

“i was joking! don’t do that!”

“well? how are we feeling today?” yeji handed you your favorite snack to cheer your mood up.

“thinking about ways to kill yena, how about i poison her food?”

“how about you just talk it out with her?”

“not a chance! i can’t look at her face without fighting the urge to punch her”

“well it isn’t going to help you, is it?”

“no, but it’ll make me satisfied”

“maybe i should just accept his offer?” you murmured.

“offer? what offer?” yeji asked.

“promise me no matter what happens, you’ll never abandon me” you grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at you straight in your eyes.

“have you gone mad? i—“

“promise me!”

“okay, okay!” she laughed, “you’re acting like you’re planning to get back with jake”

your silence told her everything.

“don’t you dare—“

“i have the perfect plan! you know how yena always wanted jake, right?”

“doesn’t she have a boyfriend—“

“boyfriend my ass, she was all over jake all the time”

“continue please”

“she probably posted my list to make sure i’ll never date him again, so she could have her chance,” you raised a brow, “by dating him i could only piss her off, but maybe that’d actually get her to confess about it”

“and then what?”

“then HER reputation would be ruined forever, boyfriend? gone, cheerleading? gone, friends? gone!”

“y/n,” yeji held your hand, “you’re so smart i feel like a proud mom!” she wiped her fake tears away.

later then you searched for a specific person you knew you’d find in the field.

“so,” the person said, “you actually agree?”

“jake, don’t make it harder than it already is” you rolled your eyes, trying to keep up with your cool girl energy, but deep down you were so excited to be close to him again and to hold him in your embrace.

“have you heard? jake and y/n are back!!” as you were walking towards your classroom you heard mumbling from other students.

“i literally just now agreed to this stupid idea how-“

“you know how fast rumor spread here, it’s actually scary”

your thoughts kept running through your mind all the way to lunch break, which was the only time you could ever relax and—

“attention please!” oh no.

“yes, me and y/n are back! this whole list thing? it was just to check everyone’s reaction about it! it’s so smart isn’t it? my sweet baby thought about this idea, and we did figure some weird actions after this whole thing blew up” jake dragged you right next to him and stared right into your eyes, “you’ll never break us apart”

cheers and claps were heard all over the hall and the only thing you thought about now is how to run away.

“congratulations! i was so scared it was real, was just now about to pay (student’s name) a hundred bucks, who lost the bet now huh loser?” one of the students came up to you with a wide smile.

you awkwardly smiled back as you set her off.

“did you really have to do that?” you glared at him.

“i did, see? now no one’s talking about it again” he shrugged.

“everyone stopped talking about it a day after! you’re just too busy thinking about yourself to notice your surroundings” you rolled your eyes.

“you agreed to do that, so be my guest, you knew there will be consequences”

“you’re the worst!”

“you don’t mean that”

you just rolled your eyes in return and stormed off.

“hey my sweet darling, how’s your day?”

“jake, we’re out of school, drop the acting”

you failed to notice his smile dropping.

“can’t i just be curious about your day?”

“jake, it’s weird, it’s been a while since we last talked or had a normal conversation, don’t act like nothing happened”

“what do you mean?”

“see you always does that! even when we were in a relationship! you fail to understand how badly you always hurt me and proceeded to just move on so fast, always running away from your problems”

he stopped his tracks as you continued walking away, this left a huge impact on him.

the next day you were back to acting, according to you, to jake it seemed very real.

you were sitting on one of the benches, casually talking with sunghoon about whatever.

jake seemed to notice every small detail about you.

the way you smile when he’s complimenting you, the way you crack at any of his jokes, even those who weren’t so funny.

you never laughed at his jokes.

“hey, can i steal my girlfriend?” jake sounded calm but his whole face screamed anger.

sunghoon, his best friend who had already recognized that face, slowly got up and smiled, “she’s all yours”

“hey, what was that?” you scoffed.

“you were being too close to him”

you rolled your eyes, “i can’t believe we’re back at it again”

“again?”

“yes, again! jake, get it right into your mind, we are not together! we’re just putting a small show for everyone’s entertainment and that’s it, it’s all about saving your ass here as well” you sounded really pissed off.

jake was taken a back for a few seconds but got right back to his senses, “oh”

“yes, oh! we’ll act like a couple when we’ll really need it” and with that you walked away.

“so,” you heard a devilish voice haunting you from behind as you were taking books out of your locker, “you and jake?”

“oh hey yena!” you smiled, “fancy seeing you here”

“answer my question” she furiously said.

“why are you curious? dropped your boyfriend because you thought you’d get a chance with him?” you smirked.

“oh! here’s my boyfriend!” you called jake who seemed to be very deep in thought.

he looked straight into your eye but decided to just walk away and ignore you completely.

“what the hell…” you cursed under your breath.

“boyfriend, huh?” yena was the one who’s smirking now, “well have fun!”

“what the hell was your problem back then?” you let yourself yell at him as you were out of school and on your way home.

“oh, i thought that we need to act like a couple when we really need it—“

“don’t play dumb right now!”

“i don’t get you y/n seriously! you’re always saying something but mean the exact opposite, what do you want, really?” he returned the attitude.

“what?”

“if you’re that suffering you should just go to sunghoon!”

“again with the sunghoon scandal—“

“yes, again with him! how come you never laughed at my jokes? how come you never smiled at any compliment i’ve given you? why did you always push me away when i tried to get closer?” the heated conversation turned into a quiet one, his tone made it very clear to you that he was hurting.

“w-what…” you whispered.

“you just don’t get it do you?” he chuckled, “my reason to being this jealous”

you stopped to think, all this time, all those arguments, he didn’t mean any bad at all.

“have you tried thinking about those beautiful moments we had? those were the most precious moments that ever happened in my entire life” you voice came quiet, “it was my first relationship ever, my first love, my first everything, i didn’t know how i should react, or what i should do in order to keep you to myself”

his glossy eyes were looking at you.

“you were so not used to doing ‘first time’ things that you failed to notice every little thing that i tried to do to keep us together, have you ever thought about that?” you preached, “i loved you, maybe i still do, but that won’t change anything, will it? it just doesn’t matter anymore”

he tried moving closer to you but stopped, “i-i’m sorry…”

“just go” you wiped the tears that were already streaming down your face.

both of you were hurting, but you didn’t know how to fix it all, it’s so stupid really, you think you’ve grown up to be a better person, but somehow communication puts on a wall that stops it all.

“have you heard? i think y/n and jake are over now, for real!”

“how the fuck did i became the hot topic again? and how come everyone knows about what happened yesterday?” you asked yeji.

“rumors, they spread so fast here” she shrugged and you rolled your eyes.

you watched jake pass you, you took the time to focus on his face.

his eyes seem so tried, puffy and hurt…. you thought.

“well someone had a rough day yesterday” yeji commented and you nodded slowly, still lost in thoughts.

“hey, can you let teacher know i have a meeting with coach today?”

“hm? but you don’t have any—“ “thank you!” you ran off quickly before she could ask any more questions.

“psst! sunghoon!” you whispered as you watched him getting ready for class.

“oh? y/n!” he smiled widely.

“come with me!” you grabbed his hand and dragged him outside the school building all the way to the back.

“y/n can we do this other time? class starts soon and—“

“shh!!” you put your finger over his lips and kneeled down with him, hiding from any teacher or student.

“i need you to help me” you gave him puppy eyes.

“yes of course, what happened?” he instantly asked.

“i’m gonna guess that you’re already aware of what happened yesterday”

“yeah, whatever that was i’d rather forget hearing about this”

“focus! i need you to help me figure out this!”

“what do you mean by ‘this’?”

“i mean everything! you’re his best friend, i’m sure you know about our whole relationship status, i-i just need to know why he broke up with me in the first place” you sighed.

“y/n, you’re not going to like what you’ll be hearing, are you sure you want that?” he genuinely asked.

you looked down to the ground and sighed, “yes, tell me everything please”

maybe asking him not to drop any detail was a mistake, because now after he told you everything and left you alone to get some time to think, you can’t help it but overthink about any step that you did.

“that only shows how bad you were for each other” sunghoon’s last words sent shivers down your spine, maybe he’s right.

“miscommunication sucks!” you laid back on the wall next to you, was this whole relationship a big mistake?

it did nothing but to hurt the both of you.

“there you are!” yeji sounded out of breath.

“so, jake might’ve gotten himself into a tiny fight and—“

“what? where!”

“it was right outside of our classroom but—“

before she could even finish her sentence you ran all the way back to your classroom and she after you.

“there’s no one here” you frowned, “you did this on purpose!”

“i tried to tell you he’s already in the nursery!” she yelled after trying to catch her breath.

“fill me up with information please” you asked quietly.

“you asshole!” as soon as you stepped into the nursery and saw jake laying down on one of the beds, a few tears came down your face.

“y/n! be careful he’s still recovering!” the nurse warned you from causing any more harm.

jake slowly opened his eyes and you scoffed, “fight? really? because of me?” you looked at him in disbelief.

he stayed silent, as if he knew what he did was wrong.

“you have nothing to say?”

“he called you a whore who likes to play with any boy that comes around, what did you expect me to do?” he sounded defensive.

“oh, i don’t know, maybe try to insult him with words and not physically! you got yourself into trouble now because of me” you complained.

“it was worth it” he smirked.

“jake, i’m being serious right now, you can’t act like we’re a couple when we’re absolutely not” as soon as you said this the nurse got the clue and went out of the room.

“that is exactly the problem!” he shout, “i can’t pass another day without you being by my side, you drive me crazy only by looking at me, and hell, i cannot look at any other man flirting with you without fighting the urge to punch him!”

“jake…” you whispered.

“i still love you, don’t you get it?…..i feel like i just can’t continue my day without holding you in my arms….” he held your hand.

you wiped the tears that continued to stream down your face, “you’re probably still suffering from concussion after the fight, i’ll go speak to the nurse”

you let go of his hold and walked out of the room.

a lot of thoughts were haunting your brain, how you wished things would be as simple as they sound.

he confessed to you and you love him, what’s stopping you from running into his arms?

“you’re just scared of giving whatever this was a second chance” yeji said as she took a bite of her food.

“whatever this was, it was toxic, i don’t want that to happen again” you sighed.

“yeah, it was pretty shitty to watch from the side, but i think he genuinely mean it this time” she took another bite from her food.

“how do you know that?”

“i mean really, ever since that list was posted he was around you 24/7, probably looking for excuses to be with you, that whole ‘oh we were just joking, we’re still dating’ thing was a dumb excuse for him to be next to you more, any nine years old can tell you that”

“you don’t have to be that harsh” you scoffed.

“i’m telling the truth babe, as much as i hated his guts, and still do, i think he was genuine about his feelings this time, and by the way you told me everything that happened, i think he really wants to fix it and try all over again” she shrugged.

“i….i don’t know what to say”

“just go and tell him yes already” she rolled her eyes and you nodded.

it’s time to fix your broken relationship.

you walked—ran back to the nursery only to find it empty.

“um…do you know where’s—“ “i saw him going to the field” the nurse answered before you could ask.

“thank you!” you smiled and walked excitedly to the field.

“i did it” you heard a familiar voice, “i posted that list”

before you could see who’s talking, you quickly hid behind a side wall.

“what?” you’re 100% certain this is jake’s voice, but who is he talking to?

“i thought this would finally break whatever you had going with her, i mean, you always had heart eyes for her even after your break up, it was making me sick”

“still, how could you do this to me?” jake sounded betrayed and…hurt.

“you had to move on, seriously, it was becoming unhealthy, i didn’t think it’d only bring you closer, it was such a mistake”

“please stop…”

“when you broke up i thought i’d finally have chance with her, but she was actually always looking your way, not even batting an eye at me”

“sunghoon just stop! i can’t believe my best friend would do this”

was it sunghoon this whole time?

“so it was you?” your thoughts voiced out.

“y-y/n?” you saw jake and sunghoon standing right in front of the other, sunghoon wore a shocked expression while jake just stood there looking completely hurt.

“what kind of an idiot would call himself a best friend? and to think you did all of that for what? to hurt not only him but me as well” you tched, “you’re nothing but an egoistic asshole”

“please just—“

“just go the fuck away! you did nothing but to hurt people, you’re disgusting me” you tried to shoo him but he didn’t budge.

“not going? okay then” you grabbed jake’s hand and walked away, not before shooting him an angry glare.

after a few minutes of walking you sat him down on one of the benches.

“you okay?” that was the first thing you asked.

“yeah, not like my best friend tried to sabotage me or anything” he chuckled.

“i’m sorry for that” you placed your hand on his shoulder, pressing it lightly, “he does not deserve to be called your best friend though”

he looked up to you and his eyes were filled with tears. you wiped the tears away and smiled at him.

“i don’t know if it’s going to help, but i didn’t feel anything for him, and never will”

he chuckled and sniffled, “i always trusted you, but i couldn’t find myself to trust him, i guess now i know why”

you rolled your eyes, “yeah, yeah you were right, i was wrong”

he gave you his infamous smile and the butterflies you felt never felt this good, “thank you” he said.

“for what?”

“for being there for me, and even if you don’t want to fix things right now, i think we might be—“

you shut him down by kissing his lips, he was shocked at first but quickly caught up, caging you in his arms and holding you tightly.

as you broke the kiss you smiled, “i do want to fix things, i want that more than anything”

“do you mean it? aren’t you afraid?”

“as long as i’m with you i have nothing to fear” you smiled.

“ugh! you’re back again? i can’t keep up with this anymore!” you heard an annoying voice.

“hey yena? fuck off” you flipped her off and she stormed away.

“since when did you become so confident?”

“ever since i realized i want to cherish and hold the most precious thing to me forever”

“i love you” he held your hand and kissed it, “i love you too” you replied with a quick peck on his lips.

“aww lovebirds, get back in class now the day’s not over yet!”

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @jjeoni-7 @dimplewonie

#enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen jake #sim jake x reader #jake scenarios #jake imagines #jake fluff #jake oneshots #jake drabble #jake x reader #enhypen x reader

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andy-15-07 · 7 months

Note

Heyyy , I love your blog❤️! Can you do a fic with Feyd Rautha, where y/n gives birth to their first child

Seraphina

masterlist ! pairing:Feyd Rautha reader

Dune Masterlist

In the dimly lit birthing chamber of House Harkonnen, the air was thick with anticipation as Feyd-Rautha stood by your side. The momentous occasion had arrived, and the echoes of your shared breaths reverberated through the room. The Harkonnen legacy was about to be expanded, and the weight of the future seemed to rest in the hands of the next generation.

As the contractions began, Feyd-Rautha, usually an enigmatic figure of political maneuvering and calculated decisions, displayed a rare vulnerability. His gaze never wavered from you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and anticipation.

The midwife, clad in the rich fabrics of Arrakis, guided the process with a calm authority. "Lady Y/N, the time is near. Brace yourself for the final push."

The room seemed to hold its breath as the culmination of your love and lineage unfolded. Feyd-Rautha, known for his unwavering confidence, now stood at the edge of uncertainty, his hand tightly gripping yours.

With a final, intense push, the cries of a newborn filled the air. The midwife's hands worked swiftly, placing the newborn in your arms. Feyd-Rautha's eyes widened with a mixture of awe and overwhelming emotion as he caught a glimpse of your child.

"Our child," he whispered, his voice filled with a depth that transcended his usual stoicism.

As you cradled the newborn in your arms, a wave of love and protectiveness washed over you. "Our legacy, Feyd-Rautha. She carries the blood of House Harkonnen."

The newborn, wrapped in the regal fabrics of Arrakis, squirmed in your arms, her eyes opening to reveal a gaze that seemed to hold an ancient wisdom. Feyd-Rautha, a formidable presence in the political landscape, now knelt beside you, his eyes locked on the tiny being that symbolized the continuation of House Harkonnen.

"What shall we name her?" Feyd-Rautha pondered, his usually sharp mind momentarily softened by the enormity of the moment.

You exchanged a knowing look, a silent agreement passing between you. "Seraphina," you suggested, a name that carried the essence of grace and strength, a name befitting the union of your love.

"Seraphina," Feyd-Rautha echoed, a rare smile playing on his lips. "A name worthy of our House."

As the newborn Seraphina rested in your arms, Feyd-Rautha by your side, a newfound sense of unity enveloped your family. The once-feuding houses were now intricately connected through the birth of this child, a symbol of love prevailing over the shadows of political intrigue.

In the birthing chamber of House Harkonnen, the cries of a newborn marked not just the beginning of a new life but the dawn of a future where love and legacy intertwined. Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic figure of power, now stood as a father, embracing the vulnerability and joy that came with the arrival of his firstborn. The legacy of House Harkonnen continued with a new chapter, written in the cries and whispers of the newborn Seraphina.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd oneshot #feyd x you #feyd x reader #dune x you #dune x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #feyd rautha imagines #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagines #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler imagine

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the-fiction-witch · 3 months

Text

Little Sister P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Daughter of Viserys and Alicent) Rating - Smut Word Count - 2409

Aegon took Y/n to his chambers making the maids bring her things so they could get ready together, the servants ran a hot bath which she took first of course, Aegon watched as Y/n eagerly undressed and climbed into the bath, a smirk on his face as he admired her form. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, knowing that he was betrothed to her,

"You know, little sister, if we keep this up we might never make it to dinner." He laughs and began undressing himself, tossing his clothes over a nearby chair.

"why? Will we play too much?"

Aegon chuckles as he steps into the tub with her, the warm water surrounding them both. He sits opposite Y/n, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yes. We might play too much. If that happens, I'll be content to keep you in my chambers instead. No way I want to attend some boring dinner with my mother if I can have you all to myself all night."

she giggled as he climbed into the bath with her she splashed in and kicked at him, Aegon laughs and splashed her back, his laughter echoing off the walls of the bed chamber.

"Oh no, the splashing game! We haven't played this one since we were children." He smiles, enjoying the innocent fun they were having. He splashed her back, sending waves of water her way, as they continued laughing and playing like kids.

she giggled hysterically splashing and kicking till she got tried or just bored and jumped on him cuddling up into his chest "will we have bath cuddles when we're married?"

Aegon wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and holding her tightly against his chest. He nuzzled her neck, planting soft kisses along her skin. "Of course, my little sister. When we're married, we'll have baths together whenever we want, cuddles and all. We'll have everything we've ever dreamed of and more." He smiles, imagining their future together, filled with love and happiness.

"ummm! Can we have big sleepovers?"

Aegon chuckles, enjoying her innocent enthusiasm. "Yes, we can have big sleepovers, little sister. Every night, if you want. We'll curl up together in our bed, wrapped in each other's arms as we dream the night away. And in the morning, we'll wake up to each other's smiles and share all sorts of cuddles and kisses."

"ummm!" She squeezed him "and play times?"

Aegon grins, tightening his hold on her and planting another kiss on her neck. "Oh, plenty of playtime, little sister. We'll have all the playtime we could ever want. We'll explore every inch of each other's bodies, and we'll find new ways to pleasure each other that we could only dream of. We'll make each other feel things we never thought possible and we'll grow even closer than we already are."

"and babies?!?"

Aegon chuckles, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Yes, my love. We'll have babies. Many, many babies. We'll fill our castle with tiny, wriggling, giggling Targaryens and we'll watch them grow and play together, just like we do. Our children will be the most beautiful, most cherished, most fearsome children in all the Seven Kingdoms, and we'll love them more than anything in this world."

"ummm... I want a hundred babies"

Aegon laughs wholeheartedly, clearly amused by her boundless enthusiasm. "A hundred, you say? Well, my little sister, you're certainly ambitious. But let's start with just a few, shall we? We'll make a few beautiful, strong, healthy children, and then we'll see where it goes from there. Maybe we'll even reach a hundred in time, who knows?"

"okay..." She nods "can we have a sleep over after dinner? Pretty please"

Aegon smiles, running his fingers through her hair. "Of course, my love. After dinner, we'll have all the sleepovers you could ever want. we'll have all night together to cuddle, play, and dream. And we'll start planning our future and the family we're going to have. "

She nodded and finished up her bath before she climbed out drying off and wandering around his chambers nude as she waited for the maids to bring her dress and do her hair

Aegon watched her move gracefully around his chambers, admiring her naked form as she waited for the maids to bring her dress and ready her for the evening. He stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist. "You look so beautiful, little sister. Just standing there, so free and unabashedly yourself. I could spend hours just watching you move like that."

"ohh? I like walking around like this my dresses can be very uncomfortable so sometimes in my chambers, I just spent all day like this"

Aegon nodded, understanding her point. "I can only imagine how uncomfortable those dresses must be, especially given your...uh...curvature and how most dressmakers seem to think all women are the shape of planks. Perhaps I'll commission some new clothes to be made for you. Something more... accommodating... and yet still regal and befitting of a princess, of course."

she giggled and nodded, jumping on him to sit on his bed cuddling for a while

Aegon chuckled as she cuddled up to him, enjoying the closeness and warmth she provided. He held her tight, running his fingers through her hair. "Do you think our children will inherit your fiery spirit and beauty, my love? Or do you think they'll take after me?"

"I don't care so long as their babies" she giggled nuzzling into his chest but she stopped and giggled even more

Aegon chuckled, enjoying her giggles and nuzzling. He planted a light kiss on the top of her head. "Well, babies they will be, that's for certain. But it's not just about being babies, little sister. They're going to be Targaryen babies, and as such, they'll need to have the right blood, the right spirit, the right look, and the right fire. After all, we're bringing them into a family of greatness, and they'll need to live up to our expectations and our legacy."

she ignored his words and giggled "You sword things it's playtime again" she giggled moving her hips a little as even though the towel it was obvious he was hard again,

Aegon chuckled, feeling her shifting hips as she giggled. He raised an eyebrow in amusement, a smirk on his face. "Playtime again, is it? You're always so eager to play, aren't you, little sister? But we can't keep playing now. We've got to get dressed and presentable for dinner with our mother. We wouldn't want her to suspect what we've been up to in here, would we?"

"but Aegon..." She whined moving the towel away so she could rub against his hips with her own

Aegon smirked, biting his lip as he felt her rubbing against him, the towel doing little to conceal his arousal. He tried to remain somewhat composed, attempting to be the responsible one. "Little sister, we mustn't. We've got to get ready...oh gods, you're making it difficult to think straight."

"please" she begged "just a little playtime aegon. Please my master" she toyed with him making sure he felt as her cunt rubbed on his cock though the thin towel,

Aegon groaned, his resolve weakening at her eager pleas and her touch. The feel of her intimate rubbing against him was almost too much to resist. "Y/n, you temptress... You're a mischievous little one aren't you? How can I say no to those pretty eyes and those pleading words? Fine...a little playtime. Just enough to... take the edge off."

she nodded excitedly almost ripping the towel away and moving herself over him taking him in her hand and wasting no time moving him inside her, she moaned loudly and she happily began to bounce

Aegon groaned loudly as he slipped inside her cunt, the sensation of her bouncing on him taking his breath away. Aegon gripped her hips, helping her set a steady, rhythmic pace.

"Aegon!" She begged her hands on his stomach as she gets faster

Aegon groaned again, the pace quickening and intensifying his sensation. He reached up to caress her face, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of lust and adoration. "Y/n...you feel so good...so right. You're...my perfect little sister...my everything..."

She pulled on his wrist moving his hand down from her face down her neck to cup her breast as she moved,

Aegon groaned again, the feeling of her flesh beneath his fingers only amplifying his desires. "Gods, I love you" he panted out, his breath coming in heavy breaths as she continued to move on him, pleasure coursing through his body like wildfire

she continues happily often giggling and screaming out for him "my master..." She cooed

Aegon's heart raced as he looked at her, her sounds of pleasure and her words sending waves of desire through him. "Yes...your master..." he groaned. "I'm all yours, my little sister." He pulled her closer, his hands roaming across her skin, touching and caressing every inch he could reach.

Suddenly the door opened to the maids coming to get them ready but of course immediately saw the two having sex

Aegon had been so caught up in the moment with Y/n that he hadn't heard the door open. The sound and the sight of the maids entering the room brought him back to reality with a jolt. "What! What are you doing here!? Is there no privacy in this castle? Can't we have a moment without unwelcome interruptions?" Aegon's voice was sharp and annoyed, as he sat up but his body still intertwined with Y/n's his hands still on her and she still bounced.

She maids went back outside without a word and as soon as they did,

Aegon's annoyance quickly turned to pleasure and surprise as he felt her reach her orgasm, her scream echoing in the room. "Oh gods...Y/n...you're incredible" he gasped, overwhelmed by her intensity and passion. He held her tightly, his own body teetering on the edge of release as she tightened around him. As the sensations washed over him, Aegon felt his own release building up. The intensity was almost too much to bear "Oh gods, I can't hold back anymore" he groaned, his body tensing as he reached his own orgasm, sending his seed deep inside her with an intense mix of pleasure and frustration,

she giggled her hips and legs trembling as she felt him lay his seed in her "umm baby number one?" She asked stroking her tummy,

Aegon chuckled breathlessly at her comment, taking a moment to recover from their shared release "I hope so, little sister. Nothing would make me happier than to watch you carry and bear our children. A whole castle full of Targaryen princes and princesses." He lifted her chin, kissing her softly and nuzzling her neck.

She smiled and kissed him too before she jumped out of bed and called the maids back who quickly came in to begin prepping the two for dinner.

Aegon groaned, reluctantly leaving the bed and joining her in getting ready. He still wore a grin, the memories of their intimate moment still fresh in his mind and the anticipation of the future still running through his veins. He glanced at her every now and again, sharing secret smiles with her as the maids fussed over them, dressing them up for the evening's events.

Y/n sat on the bed given she had no vanity as she was in Aegon’s chambers as the maid did her hair braiding it beautifully even as Y/n sat nude clearly something the maid was used to,

The other maid made a fuss of Aegon trying to clean his hair and nails, But Aegon chuckled at the image of Y/n, sitting nude on his bed, completely comfortable in her own skin while the maid fussed over her hair. He took a moment to admire her, his eyes roving over her curves and smooth skin. "Do you always sit like that while maids tend to your hair, little sister?" he teased, a smirk on his face.

"mhm" she nodded "humm?" She asked noticing the dress that had been brought for her the dress was black, not green.

Aegon looked at the clothes the maid had laid out for him and again all black no green "What is this? Why have you laid out only black clothes for us, maid? Where is the green? Where are our house colours?"

"your mother insisted Prince Aegon. Your half-sister princess Rhaenyra is coming to dinner with her family and your father insists on a swap of colours you shall wear black than green" the maid explained

"Very well," he sighed. "If my father has commanded us to wear black tonight, then black it shall be. But make sure you lay out our green clothes for tomorrow. I want everyone to know who we are and that we're not to be messed with."

Y/n dressed too, into a beautiful black gown but her maid did shoot Aegon a glare when dressing Y/n into her undergarments given she has to clean some spilt seed on her leg

Aegon watched as Y/n's maid dressed her into the black gown, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he noticed the maid's glare. He knew what she was cleaning up, given their earlier activities. "Is there a problem, maid?" he asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"no Prince Aegon" the maid nodded

"Good." Aegon turned his gaze to Y/n, admiring her in the black gown. He couldn't help but notice how sweet she looked,

"You look stunning, Y/n," he said, walking over to her and taking her hand. "Black suits you far more than it suits me."

"humm... I don't like it" she pouted "We should wear green"

Aegon sighed, the frown returning to his face. "I know, little sister. I agree with you. We should be wearing green tonight. But our father has commanded us to wear black, and there's nothing we can do against him. Believe me, I've tried."

she hummed and grabbed a green belt from his wardrobe and wrapped it around him, she then grabbed only her green jewelry as a silent way of showing her annoyance

Aegon couldn't help but smile at her small but rebellious rebellion. He appreciated her insistence on maintaining their Targaryen identity, especially against his father’s orders. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side. "You're as willful as ever, little sister," he whispered in her ear. "But I suppose that's what I love about you. Thank you for honouring our house colours, even if it's our little secret."

she smiled and the two shared a passionate loving kiss before heading down to the dinner.

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thinkingotherwise · 4 months

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can i request umemiya and reader that they are a couple and since he is like the guys big brother she would be like his big sister? ugh, umemiya is so handsome, gentle, sexy, i love him, i fell in love, i need more content about our number 1.

Umemiya making our expectations for partners way too high. The man seems too perfect.

Hajime Umemiya and his girlfriend being the older siblings or maybe something else to Bofurin members

I think that some Bofurin members give off the youngest sibling energy. Guess who?

You loved Hajime, not only because he was smokin' hot and very charming, even though you loved it as well, but also because of his kindness, the playfulness he showed to everybody, and the attentiveness to, as well as, care about others. He just seemed so perfect and you always told him how lucky you felt to be with him.

As time passed and you spent more and more of it with your ideal man and Bofurin, you also got used to them and the unique relationship they shared. They even started calling you their big sister, as Hajime would usually name himself the big bro, and what other name could they call the girlfriend of their leader?

Honestly, you'd need to be the harsher of you two because your boyfriend was just too soft and playful. He'd pamper the "kids", as he did with the first years, and encourage them to use their youth however they want. You, at the same time, were the voice of reason, trying to keep the Bofurin members under control, as the chaos they could sometimes create was a little too much.

When there was trouble and Bofurin was involved, however, Hajime would become a very protective and firm "older brother". A person you can depend on and leave all your troubles to, and you, as his partner, were responsible for keeping him at bay and not letting him get hurt too much.

The family-like relationship between you, your boyfriend, and other members of the school didn't prevent you from the arguments that arose, thankfully, very rarely.

While you were having a heated conversation with Hajime, the present Bofurin students, who observed it would try to ease you up.

The best ones at that were the first years, because of their awkward, yet playful comments that just made you stop and look at them not believing the words that left their mouths.

"You two always argue like an old married couple." Suou commented loud enough so you could hear him and stop your argument.

It did work and you turned to him but he was far from done and continued with a wide grin on his face.

"Do you plan to adopt all of us in the future, I think some wouldn't mind it."

"The parents are arguing again, what shall we do?" Kiryu joined in on the fun.

You felt your heart beating faster at their teasing getting easily flustered. In the hopes of stopping that your gaze moved to Hajime, who wore a matching grin like the first years, already forgetting about the argument he had with you.

"Well, I wouldn't mind marrying her one day. I'm sure (Y/n) would make a great wife." He commented smiling lovingly at you already imagining the life he could have with you.

"You're getting married?!" Sakura asked loudly getting the attention of other Bofurin members nearby.

That included Hiiragi, who the moment those words left the first year's mouth bent in half feeling the ache in his stomach coming back. He had enough of their shenanigans and slowly walked away to sit somewhere else and calm down.

As well as, Sugishita, who turned with wide eyes to look at the leader in betrayal. How could he not tell him that he was getting married, before telling Sakura?

The whole misunderstanding made you embarrassed and when you saw how much joy it brought Hajime you smacked his arm repeatedly trying to unload the feeling on him. He just laughed loudly and embraced you keeping you close to him.

"Stop it, it's not funny. Sakura, Kiryuu, and Suou you're in so much trouble when I get you!" You called to them trying to push away from the tight embrace but it was impossible.

"Well, hopefully, one day she'll be Umemiya." Hajime said and looked at you with his big loving eyes and you just couldn't take it.

You scrunched your face before hiding it in his shoulder and slapping his biceps twice. You gave in to your fate letting him hug you and shower in love.

Tags: @misticbullet

#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #hajime umemiya x reader

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sunny44 · 10 months

Text

Lights out and together we go

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Girlfriend (or future wife)! reader

Warnings: max and reader getting deunk, mentions of sex and another stuffs

Summary: Where Max and y/n think it's a good idea to get married drunk in Vegas.

Y/n and I arrived in Vegas a day earlier than planned; she had never been there and wanted to explore the city. We were in the paddock now, and I was finishing adjusting my racing suit to get ready for the race. As I closed it, I felt someone hugging me from behind, and I knew it was my girlfriend.

"Hi, love," she whispered, and I smiled.

"Hi, love. Everything okay?" I turned around, and she smiled.

“Yes, just came to wish you good luck."

"Good thing you didn't forget." I smiled, bending down to her level. She smiled in the middle of the kiss.

"Good luck, and take care." She ran her hand through my hair and gave me another quick kiss before going to the spot where she would watch the race.

On the track, I got into the car and prepared for what could be the best or worst race of the year.

"MAX VERSTAPPEN, YOU ARE THE FIRST WINNER OF THE LAS VEGAS GRAND PRIX," my engineer shouted on the radio, and I celebrated.

I stopped the car in the first position and got out, seeing the team and my girlfriend among them. She was much smaller than everyone, so she was hidden among the mechanics.

"You won," she said excitedly, hugging me.

"Yeah, after almost dying a few times." She slapped my arm, and I laughed, kissing her and then weighing in before heading to the podium.

...

Now, we were in a club celebrating the victory with the team. Y/n was chatting animatedly with Kika about something I wasn't paying attention to, and I had my arm around her waist as she stood in front of me.

"Do you wanna dance?" She asked in my ear, and even though I'm not a big fan, I knew how much she enjoyed it, so I agreed.

As the hours passed, we were more than drunk, still dancing together and completely sweaty.

"You know," she said, and I knew something crazy was coming. "There's a chapel nearby."

"You want to get married in Vegas?"

"Don't you?"

"Married to you, yes, but I never thought you'd want to do it here." I held her tighter and kissed her neck. "But I would never refuse to marry you, so..."

"Shall we?" I laughed and agreed.

[…]

I woke up with a throbbing headache and a persistent ringing in my ears. I opened my eyes, looked around and saw the ridiculous decoration of the hotel room that wasn't ours.

I looked at Y/n lying next to me, and under the red sheet, we were both naked. I searched for my phone and saw it lying on the floor with a cracked screen.

When I unlocked it, I noticed several missed calls from Christian and messages from Daniel. I replied to them and put it aside again.

I got up to go to the bathroom and laughed seeing that the bed was heart-shaped. I entered the bathroom and saw marks on my neck and back, and some flashes of the previous night came back as I smiled, remembering a bit.

"What the hell happened last night?" I murmured to myself. After going to the bathroom, I returned to the room, and my girlfriend was sitting on the bed with wide eyes, staring at the floor.

"What happened?" She didn't say anything, and I approached her, touching her shoulder, which brought her out of the trance. "Is everything okay?"

"We have a problem." She said, and I waited for her to continue. "Two problems, actually."

"What are they?"

"We're married." She said, and I widened my eyes.

"What?"

"We're married, Max." She lifted her hand, showing the ring.

It was the ring I had bought a while ago to propose, but I hadn't had the chance to do it, at least not in the way I felt was ideal.

I approached her and took her hand, looking at the ring that I was preparing to use for a proposal. It was now on her finger after apparently getting married drunk in Vegas.

"But that doesn't mean anything." I said nervously.

"What do you mean nothing? There's a ring on my finger, Max, it can only mean one thing." She said, raising only in her panties and grabbing my shirt from the floor.

"It could mean that we're just engaged." I said quickly, and she looked at me.

"And where did this ring come from then?"

"It's mine." I said, and she widened her eyes. "It's yours, actually. I bought it a few months ago because I had plans to propose to you, but I hadn't felt there was an ideal moment yet. Apparently, my drunk self thought it was the right time."

I felt on the bed completely outraged by my stupidity in ruining something important.

"Maxie," she said affectionately, and I felt her hand on my face as she sat on my lap. "You know I don't care about these big things."

"I know, but I wanted it to be something special, not us drunk and sweaty in Vegas." She smiled and gave me a peck. "Is everything okay?"

"It's okay." She kissed my forehead and hugged me. After a few minutes, she got up and grabbed her phone. "Max."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't propose to me."

"What?"

"We're already married." She showed several pictures of us in the chapel set up in the paddock, both clearly drunk, being married by an Elvis.

"We're crazy." I said seriously, and she started laughing. "What are you laughing at?"

"Why are we making such a drama?"

"What do you mean?"

"We were happy; you already planned to propose to me, and I would have accepted." She said calmly. "I love you, and I would marry you any way, no matter where or how."

"Really?" She nodded, and I hugged her.

"Really." I gave her a peck, and we hugged.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I'm very happy to be your husband, Mrs. Verstappen."

"And I'm also very happy to be your wife, Mr. Verstappen."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Maxie."

[…]

Since the race was on the Saturday night, today at Sunday night, we have dinner with all the drivers, organized by Charles to celebrate our first Vegas race. I was sitting on the bed looking at the photos of our "wedding," laughing at our pictures.

"How do I look?" She came out of the bathroom and ran her hands over her dress.

She was wearing a red strapless dress with glitter, and her hair was pulled back.

"WOW, you look beautiful." I said, getting up and going to her.

"Thank you, so do you." She said, adjusting the collar of my shirt.

"Can we go?" She agreed, and we went to the private room that Charles had rented. When we entered, everyone was already there.

"Good evening, everyone." She smiled and started greeting everyone. I went to where Charles, Carlos, and Lando were.

"I have a serious question." Lando said coming near me. "Look I get why you’re with her, I mean I have a soft spot for brunettes too. What I don’t get is why she likes you? I mean look at her."

"Haha very funny. But now you can stop fangirling my wife."

"Wait did you say wife?" Charles asked, and I cursed myself and my big mouth.

"Fuck." I said. "Look, Y/n and I agreed to keep this a secret so just pretend I didn’t tell you guys."

"Okay but tell us the story." Carlos asked.

"Well, we got drunk after celebrating my win, and then apparently we got married in the F1 chapel by some guy dressed as Elvis." They started laughing. "It’s not funny; I was pretending to propose to her the way she deserved and not just marrying in Vegas and fuck her after and not remembering later."

"Okay stop right now, we don’t need all the details of your night."

"Well, if you look at my back, you will imagine how it went." I said, showing them.

"Oh wow, now I’m interested.”

"Max." She said coming to me. "Hi, boys."

"Hello, Mrs. Ver..." I widened my eyes at Lando. "Actually, now that I've noticed, your eyes are blue."

"They are."

"They are beautiful." He said.

"You know I'm committed, right?" She said confused by his behavior.

"I know." He said nervously. "I'm going to get a drink."

"Is he okay?" She wondered turning to me.

"You know how he is, not used to drinking."

"Neither are we." She said laughing.

...

It's Monday and we're leaving Vegas after a hectic and crazy weekend. We're going to Abu Dhabi for the last race of the year.

"Did you see the news this morning?"

"That our marriage was revealed." She nodded. "Yes, I saw, I'm sorry."

"No need to feel sorry; I'm not ashamed that people know I married the love of my life," she said, giving me a kiss. "It's okay, don't worry."

"Okay." I said, kissing her forehead, and remembered something she said that morning.

"Remember you said we had two problems but got distracted by the marriage thing? What was the other one?"

"Oh my God, I had forgotten." She said nervously. "It's that we had sex without protection, and I'm in my fertile period."

"What? Is that serious?"

"Yes."

"My God, we're going to have a baby."

"Not necessarily, it doesn't mean I'll get pregnant."

"But what if you do?"

"We'll have a mini Verstappen in a few months."

"Okay, we won't come to Vegas ever again." She laughed, and we boarded the jet heading to Abu Dhabi.

Bonus scene!

Y/nverstappen Instagram stories

“Yes I’ve changed my user and now I’m Mrs. Verstappen”

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d4yl1ghts · 4 months

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late escapes (2)

benedict bridgerton x shy, fem!reader

summary: after an unlikely spark flies between you and benedict, you spend a scandalous moment in a carriage together

warnings: breast play (barely)

A/N- here is the much requested part 2! it is a bit cringe but…

part 1

You and Benedict had been talking in your hidden corner for an hour and a half before you decided to leave. The two of you talked about the most obscure things; it was typically Benedict who spoke his new thought. That is what lead you to now, gazing into Benedict’s gorgeous eyes as he stared back with his lips curved upwards.

“Shall we head home? You can enter my carriage with me if you would like.”, he offered. “Of course. Thank you.”, you smiled at him before glancing down at your hands nervously. He then linked your arms which left you with a blazing blush across your cheeks. As you reached the entrance of the carriage, Benedict guided you up the stairs like the gentleman he was.

Amidst the cosy atmosphere of the carriage, you couldn’t help but feel slightly claustrophobic as Benedict was opposite you with your knees almost touching. You liked it but also didn’t at the same time.

You delicately gazed out of the window, admiring London’s landscape. Benedict was almost admiring something- you. You turned to look at him after seeing him staring at you through your peripheral vision. You looked at him quizzically and he looked down in shame almost. You continued to ignore him for most of the journey.

Benedict abruptly grabbed your hand with a careful touch and you alarmingly pulled away. You flushed deeply. “Sorry.”, you muttered as you avoided his caring eyes. “I am sorry.”, he apologised. This time, however, you felt more confident and so you decided to gaze at him for short periods of time.

At that moment, the carriage just had to drive over a large bump and so you were shoved onto the edge of Benedict’s lap. “I apologise. It seems the carriage drove away a bump.”, you gently stared at him. You pulled away from his lap but before you could do so, Benedict grabbed your hand as he did before. You had the urge to move your hand away but resisted.

He stared into your eyes and you could feel his breath fanning your face. “Benedict…”, you mumbled quietly. “Hmm?”, he uttered as he surveyed you and admired your features. You simply stared at him. He slowly leant in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips before you could kiss back. You placed your hands in his chestnut hair before gently kissing him and he copied you with an increased sense of passion.

He moved his forehead against yours as you pulled away for air. He then began kissing your neck and you pulled at his hair. He continued kissing down until he reached your breasts where he stopped and glanced at you for consent to which you nodded.

Benedict placed his lips on your right breast and gently bit it as he moved his hand to your other breast, squeezing it through your dress. You let out quiet noises of approval. He continued nipping and playing with your breasts until the carriage suddenly stopped and only then did you realise that you were outside your house.

“I hope no one saw us.”, you voiced your worries. “If they did, they will have only sped up the process of our marriage.”, he stated charmingly. You glanced at him before exiting the vehicle. “Lady Y/N, it has been a pleasure. I do hope to see you soon. I’m sure I will find you in a corner of a ball.”, he smirked as he waved you off. You knew that you would see him in the future and as he had previously mentioned, you could even get married soon.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #fem!reader

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kanotototori · 5 months

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The welcoming and friendly and bright facade of "Mother" and the family she raised at the Hearth, whose cruelty was hidden just beneath the surface - raising children as brothers and sisters so that they might slaughter each other in the future for the title of "King",

Versus

Arlecchino as the "strict" and "unfeeling" and cold and emotionally distant Father, who teaches her children that they should rely on each other, love each other, cherish each other and their own lives, stand on their own two feet in the world. The names of Arlecchino's constellations - "You shall become a new member of our family / You shall love and protect each other henceforth / For alone, we are as good as dead / From this day on, we shall delight in new life together" - are her teachings to the children of the House (and her hopes, too - we shall delight in new life together).

And the warm gentleness in her voice when she begins speaking - "come with me" - that turns into cold monotone, "like a strict and unfeeling Father". You can literally hear the moment she creates the persona of that "cold", "unfeeling", "strict" Father, when she puts on her mask.

And that's not even getting into how it's also a continuation of this vicious cycle - "I will raise you as my child" - because while Arlecchino's House is certainly leagues better than Crucabena's, she is still raising soldiers and ultimately leading many of them to their deaths* (despite her best efforts, it seems), she is actively priming Lyney to be the next "King", and the throne of the "King" is upheld by much death and bloodshed.

*As an aside, I gotta wonder if Arlecchino's crimes were pardoned only in exchange for her becoming a Harbinger, so now she's locked into a job where she has to raise more child soldiers and send them to die, just like her siblings were sent to die. It would explain why Childe clocks her loyalty to the Tsaritsa as being very shaky (him being a Tsaritsa fanboy in the first place, anyway). But if she didn't become "King"... well, wouldn't that mean all her siblings' sacrifices would be in vain? That would be kinda fucked up innit.

#it took me SO MUCH not to keysmash all over this post DEAR GOD #I AM NEVER EMOTIONALLY RECOVERING FROM THIS #genshin impact #arlecchino #my meta #kinda #they made her in a lab specifically for ME.#so many themes i go absolutely batshit for IN ONE PLACE #genshin leaks

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solar-wing · 6 days

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⚣ 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 👦🏻

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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.”

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 | ☀️

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