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wafflefries13 · 4 months

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Double Trouble (Floyd x Reader)

Summary: A certain pair of twins are found roaming around NRC campus. No, not those ones. (AKA, Floyd and your kids come visit from the future.)

AN: This was supposed to be a cute short fic. Now it's 20 pages and three weeks later.

Warnings: Maybe a little ooc near the end. Kids and mentions of how they're made. AFAB Reader with she/her pronouns.

It was a pretty quiet day at NRC, which meant (Y/N) was waiting with bated breath for something to go terribly wrong.

“You worry too much!” Grim complained, hanging off her shoulder as they walked along the main thoroughfare past the Great Seven statues. “We finally have a day off! No work from Crowley, no problems with the dorms, no weird stuff popping out. And! Sam had that sale on canned tuna!” Grim pawed at the can he was holding, trying to rip open the pull tab on top. With a frustrated huff, he reluctantly handed it over.

(Y/N) quickly popped open the can and handed it back to him. Grim gave a small cry of delight as he buried his face in the shredded tuna. “I know, I know,” She said, absentmindedly scratching him behind the ears. “I think I’m just not used to it anymore. It feels like something should happen, you know? Like, they say right before lightning strikes you can feel the static in the air. And be honest, when was the last time we had a real day off?”

Grim looked up, licking his lips. “Well, last month we - no, wait, that’s when the fairies stole that magestone and had that fashion show. Oh, what about the weekend when we - no, that was Camp Vargas, huh? Uhh, Port Fest was really fun!”

“We were working at the food stalls the whole time.” (Y/N) grinned at her feline-type companion. “Or at least I was.”

Grim frowned. “Hey! Taste testing is an important part of selling food! You have to make sure your product is up to snuff!”

(Y/N) giggled and took the empty can from Grim, putting it in the plastic bag that held the other odds and ends they had picked up from the Mystery Shop. “Of course, we couldn't have done it without you.” She shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting to look up at the sky as if to double check it wasn’t about to start falling. “I just think that-”

“Mama!”

Both (Y/N) and Grim jumped, the latter falling off the former’s shoulder with a yelp to float in the air. (Y/N) blinked the white sunspots out of her vision looking around for where the exclamation had come from. No sooner had she started her search than a tiny force threw itself against her legs nearly knocking her over. (Y/N) looked down, seeing a wailing child bury his head into her hip, arms clasped around her in an iron-clad grip.

“Whoa, hey, hey!” (Y/N) said, trying to get her bearings. She pried the child’s grip away just enough for her to kneel down so they could be closer to eye level. The boy had a cherubic face, big eyes and big cheeks, with big tears rolling down them. He had teal-colored (your hair texture) hair. One of his teary eyes was a stormy gray while the other was (your eye color). A set of sharp almost shark-like teeth bit at his quivering bottom lip.

‘Do Jade and Floyd have a younger brother or something?’ (Y/N) thought.

She patted the boy's hair down and whipped the tears off his cheeks. He was taking big gulping breaths, trying to calm himself down. “Hey, it’s okay,” She said in what she hoped was a calming voice. “You’re okay. Did you get lost? This can be a big scary place, huh?”

The boy took another shuddering breath and flung himself in (Y/N)’s arms. She fell back, sitting roughly, as the boy buried his face in her shoulder.

“Geez, who the heck is this crybaby?” Grim muttered, floating nearby with his paws on his hips.

“Grim, don’t be rude!”

“He’s the one who ran into you! That’s rude!” Grim floated a little closer, cocking his head to look at the boy. “You know, he kinda looks like-”

“Ah!” (Y/N) yelped, pain suddenly rushing through her hand. She had been patting the boy’s hair, trying to help him calm down, when he suddenly turned his head and bit down hard. Jerking her hand back, (Y/N) could see a fresh set of indents forming a perfect semi-circle around the joint of her thumb, two of the points already beading with blood.

Grim immediately jumped to the defense. “Hey! What’s the big idea?”

The boy let out another wail, picking himself up and dashing away before (Y/N) could take another breath. “Hey, wait!” She called after him. “It’s okay! Come back!”

“Okay?!” Grim said as incredulously as he could manage. “He bit you! Look, you’re bleeding!”

(Y/N) whipped away the blood from her hand on her skirt. “He’s clearly just scared, Grim. It was probably just an instinct. Come on, we better find him before he gets into any trouble.”

Ignoring Grim’s grumblings, (Y/N) jogged off in the direction the boy had gone. She wondered why a kid so young would be alone in a place like this. He was, what, maybe seven or eight? Not to mention obviously terrified. And… Wait, had he called her mama? (Y/N) faltered a little when she remembered that. Maybe it was like when a kid called someone they were close to auntie or big sister? But why mama?

“Say that again and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

(Y/N) was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a child’s voice yelling some… pretty violent threats. She couldn’t imagine the small crying boy from before saying something like that. Was there another kid wandering campus? Was it a family visit day or something?

(Y/N) turned the corner to see the boy facing off against a group of students. Or, no, it wasn’t the same boy. Sure, he had the same round face, teal hair, and mismatched eyes, but he held himself in a completely different way. Instead of curling in on himself with fear, his shoulders were back, chin up in defiance, his sharp teeth pulled into a scowl, tiny fists balled with rage instead of anxiety.

(Y/N) didn’t want to believe it, but the students looked like they were getting ready to square up with a kid. Channeling into her de facto role of campus peacekeeper, she put herself between the kid and the students, saying, “Hey! What’s going on here?”

One of them jabbed his finger at the boy. “This kid came out of nowhere and started insulting us! Saying our magic was weak!”

“It is!” The boy said, peering around (Y/N)’s legs. “My papa’s the strongest guy at Night Raven College ever! He could take you all on at once! Tell ‘em, Mama!”

“Mama?” Another one of the students said. “Prefect, you know this kid?”

“Uh, not exactly, it’s kind of complicated. Look, he’s just a kid, he didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just all cool down for a second okay?”

Another student stepped forward, punching his fist into his open hand. “I think he needs to learn some manners. And if his ‘mama’ isn’t going to teach them to him, we will.”

Instinct kicked in and (Y/N) scooped the boy up in her arms. “Now, just hang on a second, you’re not really going to fight a kid, are you?”

“Yeah, I can take all you sea cucumbers on!” The boy shouted from her arms. “You look like a sea cucumber too, and their face is their butt!”

“That’s it!”

As the student advanced (Y/N) took a step back. Her arms full, her body reacted without thinking about it. Her leg flew up in a high kick, landing squarely in the approaching student’s face. His face bore a perfect shoe print as the young boy in her arms started cackling. (Y/N) took advantage of the momentary stunning and booked it out of there.

“Grim! Cover!” She yelled. Grim blew a spray of blue flames at the pursuing students, giving the new trio an opportunity to escape relatively unscathed.

(Y/N) sprinted through the halls, the boy clutched in her arms, Grim flying close behind them. Dodging into an empty classroom, (Y/N) took deep breaths as she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. The boy leapt out of her arms, clapping his hands.

“That was so cool!” He exclaimed. “Uncle Grim was all like ‘Foosh!’ And Mama kicked like ‘bam!’ He had a footprint on his face! Did you see that, Mama? Did you see?”

(Y/N) held her hand up, trying to order her thoughts for a second before speaking to the overly excited boy. “I saw, I saw. Did you really just go up and start insulting those guys? They have to be twice your age, you could have gotten hurt!”

The boy pouted, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. “I know. I’m not supposed to start arguing with people. I’m sorry.” He recited the apology as if he had done it plenty of times before.

(Y/N) knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I just don’t want you getting hurt, okay? I know you’re probably really tough but you can’t blame me for worrying, you know?”

The boy grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. He threw himself into (Y/N)’s arms in a big hug. “I know. That’s why I have Papa and Mama! Nothing bad happens when you’re around! Oh!” He gasped as if suddenly remembering something. “Mama, have you seen Cas anywhere? We got split up! I need to be there to fight anyone who tries to mess with him!”

(Y/N) rubbed his hair. “What did we just say about fighting?”

Meanwhile, at the Monstro Lounge, Floyd was having one of his rough days. First, he had to break up a fight between a bunch of customers in the Lounge, which might have been fine normally, except they all cowered and begged forgiveness as soon as he got there, so we didn’t even get a chance to squeeze anyone. Then, Azul had started bothering him for his grades in his history of magic class. Like, yeah, it was easy and he could finish the homework no problem, but it was so boring! Why should he have to put effort into something like that, anyway? He was a great mage. Practical exams were a breeze. Why did the paper assignments even matter? Third, Jade kept talking his ear off about some rare new mushroom someone had sent him. Something about how it could let you see into the future, or bring stuff back from the past, or something. Floyd sort of zoned out in the middle of his brother’s explanation.

And, worst of all, he hadn’t seen his dear Shrimpy all day! Usually, on days off, he’d go track her down, making himself home at Ramshackle dorm, looming over her while she tried to study in the library until she finally paid attention to him and they could go do something fun, or dragging her to his basketball practice so he could show off. But he’d been stuck inside all day. He was starting to get stir crazy.

All he could think about was wrapping his arms around her soft, plush form and squeezing as hard as he could, until she gasped and made those cute sounds he liked.

Floyd giggled, kicking his feet. Maybe he could sneak out? Yeah, he could be sneaky when he wanted to! It couldn’t be that hard, right? He was already out of the Monstro Lounge, past the main entrance of the dorm. All he needed to do was go down the tunnel to the mirror chamber and-

“Well, hello there, Floyd.” Busted. Floyd grimaced, turning around to see Jade smiling at him, holding a huge stack of paperwork. “I was looking for you. Professor Trien gave me the assignments you’ve missed. He asked me to make sure you got these done before your next class. You don’t have anything else to do today, right?”

Floyd groaned, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Jade, I don’t want to do that! What’s even the point, huh? What’s some paper going to prove about casting spells?”

Jade gave a faux sympathetic look that Floyd could spot from 10 miles away. “Oh? So you did have plans today? Such a shame that you’ll have to cancel them, then.”

Floyd grit his teeth as Jade shoved the stack of papers into his arms. He briefly considered dropping them all and throwing a punch, if he didn’t know for a fact that Jade was one of the only people who could actually match him blow for blow. Floyd could count on one hand the amount of times they had physically fought with each other, but man, did no one ever suspect that the more calm and collected twin could be just as brutal.

Jade took Floyd by the elbow, not so gently leading him back into the main dorm, when Floyd froze, ears perking up at a sound.

Jade frowned. “Floyd, I said-”

“Shh!” He interrupted, putting a finger to his lips. Floyd cocked his head to the side, trying to hear that sound again. Suddenly, he shoved the papers back at Jade, bounding down the hall and taking the stairs two at a time down to the lobby.

The main lobby of the Octavinelle dorm took the same decor ques as the Monstro Lounge, or maybe it was the other way around. The lobby was seemingly empty, but Floyd was able to narrow in to the sound he had made out earlier, the hiccuping sound of a kid trying very hard not to cry.

Floyd stalked over to one of the couches, peering over. A small boy was huddled against the back of the couch, trying his hardest to make himself disappear.

“Hey, there, Guppy,” Floyd said, leaning over the back of the couch. “What’s with the sad eyes?”

Most children might have been frightened by the sight of a shark-toothed, manic eyed mer looming over them, the moody lighting on the lobby casting haunting shadows over his face. But the boy looked relieved, jumping on and over the couch to latch himself onto Floyd.

“Papa!” He wailed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I got lost and I couldn’t find Argo, and then I found Mama, but I had big feelings and I bit her! I know I’m not supposed to bite when I have big feelings, but I forgot and it was an accident! And then I ran away from Mama, and I know I shouldn’t have, and I still can’t find Argo, and-and-and-!”

Before he could say anything else, and before he had the chance to start crying again, Floyd scooped him up under the arms and brought him high in the air. “Wow, you have strong looking teeth!” He praised. “I bet you can bite real hard! Show me, show me!” Floyd flashed his own sharp-toothed grin, exaggerating gnashing down. The boy sniffled weekly before giving a half-smile. “Hey, come on, you know what I mean. We want a full smile, right, Guppy?” Floyd tossed the boy into the air, catching him and swinging him around so his legs flew out behind him. Despite himself, the boy started giggling. Floyd smiled, booping him on the nose. “There’s those teeth. Look how strong you are!”

The boy covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stifle his giggling. He made claws with his hands, baring his teeth. “Grr!”

Floyd gasped dramatically. “Oh no! This isn’t a guppy at all! It’s a shark! Jade, help me!” Floyd theatrically collapsed to the floor, making sure to keep the boy at arms length above him so he didn’t get hurt. The boy’s mood had fully switched now, laughing and holding his arms out so he could pretend to fly.

Jade stood in the doorway, smiling softly at his brother’s antics. But, more pressingly, wondering how a small child had found his way into Octavinelle in the first place. And, possibly, why he happened to have a certain family resemblance?

“Pardon me,” Jade said, stepping forward. “I couldn’t help hear you say ‘Papa?’”

“And then, I swung on this rope over the river, and it was probably, like a hundred feet high! And I let go and did a huge cannonball and it made the biggest splash ever!” The boy, (Y/N) had found out was named Argonaut, was regaling her and Grim with some pretty fantastical exploits from the last camping trip he and his brother Caspian had taken with their Uncle Jade. The name drops were getting much too specific, and (Y/N) still needed to find out what happened to Argo’s twin, so she decided a visit to Octavinelle was the best next thing to do.

“Wow, you did all that?” She asked. Argo walked beside her, holding her hand and swinging it back and forth in a large arc. “A hundred feet is pretty high. You must be brave.”

“The bravest!” He said with a big sharp-toothed smile. “Papa said I have to look out for Cas because he gets scared real easy. But he knows tons of stuff and he’s really smart, so that’s okay.” He frowned a little. “I can’t read really good, so Cas helps me out. That’s why we’re a team!”

“You sound like a very good team. We’ll find him soon, okay?” (Y/N) could tell Argo was worried about his brother. Even if he kept putting on a brave face, being lost in a big, strange place like NRC would put any kid on edge, not to mention that Argo had no idea how he or Cas got there in the first place.

“My tummy felt bubbly like when I had too much soda that one time and there was a big light and then I was here,” He had said when she asked.

‘More magic nonsense,’ (Y/N) thought to herself. She decided she was never getting used to it.

Stepping through the mirror to Octavinelle, the air temperature noticeably dropped at least ten degrees. The light took on the cool blue hue of the water surrounding the glass tunnels around the dorm. Its own little pocket dimension, or however the dorms actually worked, was like living inside an intricate aquarium full of coral reefs, darting fish, and cool temperatures to remind the largely mer-based population of home.

Stepping into the Mostro Lounge’s lobby, (Y/N) turned to Grim and said, “Okay, you stay here with him. I’m going to try and find-”

“Argo!”

“Cas!”

Argo sprinted away, colliding with his double in the middle of the Lounge floor, almost knocking a poor waiter off his feet. The two boys hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other for years instead of the better part of an hour. (Y/N) felt a pull on her heartstrings at their reunion.

“Cute,” She muttered. She took a step forward. “I-”

“Shrimpy!”

Before she could get another word out, (Y/N) was tackled in a bear hug. Floyd pinned her arms to her sides, picking her up and swinging her around. Behind the daze of dizziness and the feeling of her ribs creaking under pressure, she couldn’t help but compare her normal greeting from Floyd to the smaller twin’s reuniting.

“Urk, hello, Floyd. Good to see you too.”

“Aww, that’s all you got to say? With our kids here and everything?”

“With our- what?!” (Y/N) squirmed out of Floyd’s hold and stumbled back.

Floyd pulled the two careening boys close, beaming like a proud father. “Come on, Shrimpy, you met our little leptocephalus, right? I’m Papa and you’re Mama, right, boys?”

“Yeah, Mama,” Argo said, “Don’t be silly!”

“Argo,” Cas muttered, tugging his brother’s sleeve. “Something kinda weird happened, you know? Mama and Papa look different. I think this is where they met.”

“Yeah, Night Raven College, the best school in the world!” Argo threw his arms up in celebration. He turned back to Floyd and (Y/N). “Cas and I are gonna come here too when we get big. We’re going to be great mages just like Papa and Uncle Jade and Uncle Azul and Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce and Uncle Grim and everyone!”

“Everyone, huh?” (Y/N) said, starting to feel dizzy.

Cas pouted at his brother. “That’s not what I mean, Argo.”

“He’s right!” Grim cut in, paws on his hips with a smug look on his face. “Since I am going to be the world’s greatest mage!”

Floyd poked Grim’s exposed tummy. “You were last on that list, seal.”

“Mrow!” Grim started flailing his paws at Floyd, who easily kept him at bay with one long arm pushing his head back.

“Ah, here’s where you all went.” Jade came up to the group. He was gently cradling one of his terrariums that had a strange-looking purple and silver mushroom with a dripping cap nestled inside.

“Hi, Uncle Jade!” Argo waved.

“Hello, nephew.”

“Is that one of your fancy mushrooms, Uncle Jade?” Cas asked, standing on his tiptoes to try and get a better look. Jade held it down so the twins could see. Cas’s eyes sparkled in fascination while Argo screwed up his face in displeasure.

“It is,” He said. “And I believe this is why you two came to visit us.”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) asked, picking Grim up to rescue him from Floyd’s teasing.

Jade turned to his brother. “Floyd, do you recognize this?”

Floyd stuck his tongue out. “Bleh, yeah. You made that nasty tea from that mushroom the other day and tricked me into drinking it.”

“Tea?” (Y/N) asked. “Oh, was that the tea in the thermos you had the other day?” She frowned. “You tricked me into drinking it too, Floyd. You said it was tasty and so excited to share it with me, then laughed when I started choking on it because it was so bitter.”

Floyd had picked the boys up, holding one in each arm. “That’s because it’s funny when it’s you, Shrimpy.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Mmhmm, sure.”

“I apologize that you were roped into my experiment, (Y/N),” Jade said, not looking or sounding apologetic at all. “But I believe it led to an even more fascinating result than I could have hoped for. This,” He held up the terrarium. “Is an oracleum mycoculous, the fortune-telling mushroom. A very rare specimen a fellow mycologist friend of mine sent me from the Shaftlands. He knew I attended NRC and he asked me to study the effects of magic on this particular species.”

“A fortune-telling mushroom?” (Y/N) asked. “Like, if you cut an apple in half the shape of the seeds can tell your future?”

“It’s a bit more extreme than that. It’s rumored that when prepared in a certain way, eating an oracleum mycoculous can give one insight into future challenges, typically giving a person a strong intuition into choices they should make in the near future. My colleague had heard rumors that making a tea with the mushroom infused with magic could give the person who drinks it clearer visions of the future. I only intended for Floyd to drink it and record any dreams or premonitions he had, but if you drank it as well, Prefect,” he booped Cas on the nose, who giggled while intently studying the mushroom. “It would seem we were able to bring your future children from your future to our present.”

(Y/N) gulped hard, finally starting to accept what she had been suspecting this whole time. “Our children?” She squeaked.

Floyd nuzzled the two boys. “Aww, Shrimpy and I had little guppies!” He smiled wickedly. “How many tries do you think it took before we ended up with these fry?”

(Y/N) felt her face explode with heat. “Floyd! That - I mean - We’re not even together!”

“If I may,” Jade said. “The visions associated with the oracleum mycoculous are said to only be possibilities. It shows you options for possible futures depending on certain choices made. So perhaps your boys were drawn from one of these possible futures.”

(Y/N) felt dizzy at ‘your boys.’ “Okay, wait, hang on-”

“Mama, are you okay?” Cas asked. He reached out to her. (Y/N) felt a thud in her chest and took him from Floyd.

“I’m okay, Cas,” She said, trying to hide her anxiety from showing on her face. “Just a little confused, is all. I bet your actual parents are really worried about you.” She turned to Jade. “So, how do we fix this?”

He smiled slyly. “I have no idea. But wouldn’t it be fascinating to find out?”

“Absolutely not.”

The Leech family, plus (Y/N) and Grim, although, if the current children were to be believed, (Y/N) would be part of the Leech family in the future, stood in front of an annoyed-looking Professor Crewel in the alchemy classroom.

“Sorry?” (Y/N) asked.

“I absolutely do not approve of any relationship of this sort. Any pup of mine could do much better.”

“Aww, Beakfish,” Floyd pouted. “That’s no way to talk to your future son-in-law, is it?”

Crewel frowned deeper, his grip tightening on his teaching pointer that often doubled as a whip. He obviously didn’t approve of Floyd commenting on his pseudo-adoption of (Y/N). Although he had been in somewhat of a custody battle with Headmage Crowley in that regard. (Y/N) anticipated a negative reaction from her one father figure, but at least there was a higher chance Professor Crewel would be able to get something done in a timely manner, rather than the crow-coded Headmage dramatically lamenting without much work actually being done.

(Y/N) frowned, feeling her face heat up again. “Sir, we’re not actually together or anything…”

Floyd draped himself over her shoulders, trapping her in a backward hug. “Aww, my wifey Shrimpy is so mean to me. Why’s your Mama so mean, guppies?”

“Mama’s not mean!” Argo defended, taking one of her hands. “Mama’s the nicest! She lets me stay up past bedtime and eat tons of ice cream and watch PG-13 stuff on TV!”

(Y/N) looked down skeptically. “Do I really do that?”

He smiled slyly. “If I say it’s in the future then would you?”

“Nice try.”

“Grandpa,” Cas said, looking up at Crewel with big puppy eyes. “You’re going to help us get back to Mama and Papa, right?”

Crewel faltered. Not even he was totally immune to the child’s charms. He crossed his arms, huffing in feigned annoyance. “Well, of course we’ll get them home. But after we’re having a serious conversation about your future prospects, pup.”

“Like I said, we’re not even together,” (Y/N) protested weakly.

“Jade,” Crewel said, holding out his hand. “The oracleum mycoculous.”

Jade clutched the terrarium close to his chest. “But it’s my only sample. I made the other one into the tea that Floyd and (Y/N) drank.”

Crewel raised an eyebrow. “And we are in this situation because of that. I’ll have to use the mushroom to reverse-engineer an antidote to send these two back.” Jade reluctantly handed the mushroom over. “I’ll start research right away. Hopefully, we’ll get some answers soon. In the meantime, I’ll have to entrust these two in your care.”

“Not a problem,” (Y/N) said. “You guys can stay at Ramshackle with me and Uncle Grim.” (Y/N) caught herself, wondering when it had become so easy to refer to her friends as ‘Uncle’ as her theoretical future children did.

“Papa’s gonna come to, right?” Argo said.

“Absolutely not!” Crewel said, griping the terrarium so tightly (Y/N) was afraid it might break.

Floyd sniffed. “You’re going to tell me I can’t be with my children? You’re going to separate us?”

“You’re already on thin ice, don’t push your luck.”

“I’ll take care of it, Professor,” (Y/N) said before tempers could rise any further. “Thanks for helping us with this.”

“Of course, dear,” Crewel said, his tone softening. He cast a suspicious eye at Floyd, who was getting a bit too close to the alchemy ingredients along the walls, lifting the boys up high so they could get a better look. “Just let me know if you need any help.”

In the end, Floyd did end up staying at Ramshackle for the night. (Y/N) could hear the three Leech boys loudly playing in the living room while she tried to make something quick for dinner. Macaroni and cheese would probably work. Kids liked mac and cheese, right? Even if they were mer kids from the future. Or, half mer? (Y/N) wondered how that worked, specifically biologically speaking. Did the boys have mer forms like Floyd and Jade did? Did they look more human in some parts and more eel-like in others? It occurred to her that there was still so much basic mer and beast-man biology she had no idea about. But how do you ask that sort of thing without it being awkward about it?

“Mama!” Cas called, poking his head in the kitchen. “Can Argo and I go pick out our rooms?”

“I call the big one!” Argo yelled, sprinting past his brother up the stairs.

“Hey, don’t run inside!” (Y/N) warned.

“Yeah, and you can’t have the big one,” Cas scolded. “That’s Mama and Papa’s room.”

(Y/N) gulped. A sly smile stretched over Floyd’s face. “Yeah, where is our room? I should go unpack right?”

(Y/N) shook her head, trying to get rid of certain thoughts while organizing others. She clapped her hands together. “I know. Why don’t we build a pillow fort in the living room? It’ll be like a big sleepover.” She weakly kicked at Floyd’s shin, more out of show than real malice. “Because that’s all this is.”

“Like when there was that big storm!” Argo said, racing back down the stairs. “And the lights all went out and we had to stay away from the windows so we made that big tent in the middle of the kitchen!”

(Y/N) smiled fondly at a memory she hadn’t made yet. “Sure, like that.”

“I know where the biggest pillows are!” Grim called, racing up the stairs. The boys eagerly followed, making plans for their blanket fort that would stretch all across NRC campus.

Floyd sighed dramatically, draping his full body weight over (Y/N)’s back as she tried to stir the macaroni and cheese. “How’d we get so lucky, huh?” (Y/N) purposefully ignored him, something that didn’t slip Floyd’s attention. “They’ve got my looks, of course, handsome devils. Hey, do you think we live on land or in the sea? Ooh, or we could do both! Like a summer house! I bet I make a ton of money, I got to take care of you and the guppies, right? Aww, you’d be a cute little house wife. I’ll come home after work and you’ll say ‘Welcome home!’, I can’t do your voice too good, it’s higher than mine, you know? But you’ll say ‘Welcome home!’ and I’ll give you a big hug and say ‘I’m home!’ And I’ll bring you and the kids gifts and we’ll play games after dinner, and when they’re all tuckered out and in bed I’ll pick you up and go to our room and I’ll squeeze you real tight and say-”

“Floyd!” Floyd jumped at (Y/N)’s sudden exclamation. He felt her body tense and then sag in exhaustion. “Just… You shouldn’t say that kind of stuff, you know?”

Floyd blinked. “Huh? Why not, Shrimpy?”

“You know why.” She didn’t say anything after that. Floyd let the remark sit. After a minute of silence between them, listening to the cheering and shouting from the boys upstairs, (Y/N) finally sighed and said, “You shouldn’t say stuff like that to a girl. Not when you don’t mean it.”

Floyd chuckled feebly, his heart not in it. He felt torn between squeezing tighter and getting as far away from here as possible. “How do you know if I mean it or not?”

“Because you’re always like this. You’ve been like this since we’ve met, you’re like this with everyone. And you know-” She cut herself off. She seemed to be deliberating something serious and finally continued. “And you know how I feel about you.”

Floyd felt his mouth go dry, his heart started thumping a million miles an hour, and his stomach turned into knots. He had to say something. This was one of those moments where you had to say something, right? Of course he knew how she felt, it was pretty obvious to everyone how she felt, Floyd included. And the garden, especially what had happened at the garden. Or, rather, what hadn’t happened.

Now, had he taken advantage of that little fact over the school year to wring out some more entertainment out of the magicless Prefect? Well, yes, of course he had. Had he meant to have his own feelings grow into something he couldn’t manage over that time? No, but it had happened anyway, sneaking up on him and socking him in the heart like a mantis shrimp when he least expected it.

He tried to say it without saying it. He tried to show it without saying it. But why couldn’t he just say it?

“(Y/N),” Floyd started. “I-”

There was a crash from the living room, accompanied by a shriek and laughter.

“Papa!” Cas called. “We need help!”

Whatever seriousness had come over Floyd’s countenance disappeared in the blink of an eye. His signature wide grin cut across his face. If anyone was paying attention, they would notice his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He quickly reached over (Y/N)’s shoulder and stole a spoon, scooping a chunk of the mac and cheese from the pot to shove into his mouth before dashing out into the living room.

(Y/N) stuck her tongue out at his retreating form before turning back to the stove. As she slid the dish of mac and cheese into the oven to finish cooking, she paused. Had Floyd used her real name?

“Argo!” Cas whispered in the darkness.

A large quilt hung over their heads, precariously draped between several chairs. Pillows were stacked on all sides making soft walls and they had layered several duvets and couch cushions below to create an improvised mattress. Mama was on the couch, which served as the left-most barrier of their fort, the quilt draping down close to her head with Uncle Grim curled up on her lap. Papa lay sprawled between Cas and Argo, arms and legs out like a starfish.

“Argo, are you awake?” Cas asked again.

He heard his brother mumble something before his head popped up from the other side of their dad, hair flattened against one side of his head and sticking out in every direction on the other. “Wassup?” Argo said sleepily.

“Did you hear what Mama said with Grandpa Crewel?” Argo rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “She said she wasn’t dating Papa!”

Argo squinted at his brother in the darkness. “But they are. Mama and Papa said they started dating at Night Raven College.”

“But they’re not yet. Remember what Uncle Jade said? We’re only from one future. What if Mama and Papa don’t start dating in this future?”

It took Argo a second to register what Cas was suggesting. His eyes went wide and he gasped loudly. Cas shushed him and Papa mumbled in his sleep, finally turning over on his stomach without waking up.

“You mean we won’t exist?” Argo whispered, panicked. Cas nodded. “What do we do?”

Cas smiled. “Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

The next day, amid a bright blue sky painted with thin wispy clouds, Floyd had insisted on visiting Heartslabyul to “Show off his guppies to his best friend, Goldfishy!” (Y/N) sarcastically predicted that this could only end well.

The group of five had, as anticipated, balked at the two visitors and their explanation for being there. But the boys had taken to seeing their pseudo-uncles like, well, like merboys to water. They were outside, near the rose garden maze. Argo was practicing some kind of gymnastics, holding Deuce’s hands tightly, walking up his stomach and chest to flip in a practice summersault. Cas munched happily on a cinnamon roll almost as big as his head while watching in fascination as Ace showed off some card tricks.

“Have you heard anything from Professor Crewel?” Trey asked, setting down a new plate of danishes on the table.

“Nothing yet,” (Y/N) said, taking a napkin and wiping off some smeared frosting from Cas’s face. “But I assume something like this will take some time to get right.”

“And you’re…” Trey waved his hand in a circle. “Doing alright?”

“I’m… Okay.” (Y/N) looked over at the boys now playing tag. “This isn’t the worst magic thing that’s happened since I’ve been here.”

“That doesn't mean it makes everything easy,” Riddle commented, gazing over the rim of his tea cup. “Especially given your… choice of partner.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware. Floyd’s not too bad, though. He’s pretty good with kids.”

Riddle huffed. “Considering he basically is one himself I’m not entirely surprised.”

“Hmm? Are you talking about me, Goldfish?” Floyd said, appearing out of nowhere. He grasped the back of Riddle’s chair, pulling back so Riddle was thrown off balance, throwing his arms out to try and reestablish equilibrium. Riddle scowled, face turning red. He looked like he was going to say something, but bit his tongue as Cas and Argo ran up and started digging into the pastries. “It’s not nice to gossip about people.”

“Yeah,” Argo said, a mouth full of cherry danish. “It’s impolite. You’re the one telling us about manners all the time.”

“All the time?” Riddle asked.

“When you come over for dinner!” Cas chimed in. “You come over with Papa cause you work together and we all eat and you help me and Argo study!” Argo stuck out his tongue at the last part.

Riddle went from red to white. “We work together?”

“Yeah! You and Papa are best friends!”

(Y/N) was momentarily worried that Riddle was going to faint.

“And Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce come over all the time! Uncle Deuce is going to teach me how to ride a blast cycle!” Argo said.

“We’ll revisit that later,” (Y/N) said, ruffling his hair.

“Can Uncle Trey still teach me how to bake?” Cas asked. “Uncle Cater was going to help me make a Magicam account to show off the stuff we make! Before Argo eats all of it.”

“Don’t be so good at baking and I won’t be so good at eating,” Argo replied, stuffing another danish in his mouth before darting off, Cas close behind him.

“I feel dizzy,” Riddle mumbled.

“Sounds like you’re keeping busy,” Ace said, watching Floyd duck around the hedges with the twins.

“When am I not?” (Y/N) said. “But at least it sounds like we’re all still close in the future. I like that.”

“It sounds like you don’t go home, though,” Cater said, mostly to himself. “Back to your world, I mean.”

(Y/N) hummed. “Maybe home is what you make of it.”

“Hey, Goldfishy?”

Riddle growned, shrugging off Floyd’s arm for leaning on him. “What is it, Floyd?”

Floyd was quiet for a moment, such a rare occurrence that Riddle looked up at him to make sure he had been heard. Floyd was looking out at the rose garden, watching the two children darting around bushes, chasing and being chased by Ace, Deuce, and Grim. (Y/N) stood nearby, watching with a serine look on her face, chiming in every once and a while to make sure the younger boys (and the older ones, too, let’s be honest) were being careful of their surroundings.

“You know about all that formal romantic stuff right?” Floyd finally asked.

“I don’t know about ‘romantic.’ What are you getting at?”

Floyd has a lazy smile on his face. “Do you know how to write a love letter?”

Riddle felt himself blush. “I’m not getting in the middle of whatever exploits you’re up to, romantic or otherwise.”

“Aw, come on,” Floyd said, poking Riddle’s check, causing Riddle to swat at him like a fly. “(Y/N)’s real nice, you know? She deserves something fancy. And I want-” It was rare that Floyd was at a loss for words. Riddle looked up at him, seeing determination and focus scrunch his brow as Floyd tried to choose his next words. “I guess I want to prove it to her. That I like her. That I really like her. That I-” Floyd groaned, letting his body go limp and dragging Riddle with him to crash to the lawn. “See? I’m not good at this kind of stuff! Help your best friend out!”

Riddle yelled, “If you weren’t so cavalier all the time, you’d be able to focus when you had to be serious!”

Ace stalked through the high hedges of the rose maze, having been called It in the boys’ game of hide-and-seek. “Better watch out,” He called in a sing-song voice. “Uncle Ace is going to find you!”

“Psst!” Ace whipped around, seeing Cas peeking out from behind a hedge, waving him over. He went over, seeing Cas, Argo, Deuce, and Jade sitting together, huddled under the shade of the maze. Argo had smuggled a few more pastries from breakfast and was tearing them apart to share with the group.

“Jade?” Ace asked. “What are you doing here?”

“My dear nephews called me,” He said.

“Papa let me borrow his phone!” Argo said, holding up the cell, smears of frosting covering the screen. “He doesn't know he let me borrow it, but I’ll give it back before he misses it.”

Cas put his hands on his hips. Ace had never seen a more serious looking eight-year-old. “That’s still stealing, Argo!” He huffed. “Whatever. We have something super important to talk about!”

“Yeah!” Argo chimed in. “We need to make sure Mama and Papa kiss!”

Deuce choked on his cinnamon roll. Jade tilted his head and smiled.

“Oya?” Jade said. “That’s quite the goal.”

“We want to get Mama and Papa together!” Cas clarified. “Because they’re in love and stuff! And we want to exist in the future!”

“I don’t know how much we should be messing with (Y/N)’s love life,” Deuce said. “It feels kind of invasive, you know?”

“Anyway,” Ace said, crossing his arms. “It’s Floyd’s fault anyway.”

“Is it?” Jade asked.

Ace gulped and scooted away a little before continuing. “Well, yeah. Come on, we all know (Y/N) likes Floyd, for some reason, whatever, that’s on her. If Floyd can’t string together 2+2 then that’s on him.”

“Floyd isn’t exactly subtle with his emotions, either,” Jade said. “He might have issues directing them to a specific conclusion, however.”

“So, you think he likes (Y/N), too?” Deuce asked.

“Undeniably.”

Ace rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, liking is one thing, but we are sort of talking about future marriage and kids here.” He nodded his head at the twins.

“But Mama and Papa are in love!” Cas insisted. “And the stories Mama tells us says true love conquers all!”

“That does sound like the sort of sappy thing (Y/N) would say,” Ace relented.

“I mean,” Deuce said. “We can’t really force anything, right? If they decide they want to get together that’s up to them. But,” He winked at Cas and Argo. “A little push couldn't hurt, right?”

“Great!” Cas said. “Phase one is complete! Now, we need recruits for phase two!”

It was Day 3 of having Argo and Cas at NRC. (Y/N) was fretting about what to do with the boys while she and Grimm went to class.

“I can skip class and stay here!” Grim volunteered.

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N). “Your grades need all the help they can get.” Floyd had offered to spend the day with the boys as well, when he had tried to worm his way into spending another night at Ramshackle. But (Y/N) had insisted he go sleep in his own bed at his own dorm. And it totally had nothing to do with the fact about how her heart had fluttered the morning after his first night there, when he’d woken up with a big yawn, hair a mess, and smiled lazily at her while wishing her a good morning. Nope. Absolutely not.

“We’ll be okay, Mama!” Cas promised. She had set him and Argo up at the kitchen table with a box of crayons and coloring books she had snagged from the Mystery Shop (Sam really did have everything in stock). “Argo and I will stay right here and not do anything sneaky!” Argo punched his brother’s shoulder. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, even more nervous about leaving the boys in the large dilapidated dorm for an entire school day.

“Don’t worry about it, Prefect!” Phineas, Ezra, and Gus, the Ramshackle ghosts, said, materializing in the kitchen. “We’ll take care of them.”

(Y/N) sighed in relief. “Thank you, guys. Boys, you be good for the ghosts while Uncle Grim and I are away, okay?”

“Yes, Mama,” They both said dutifully. They listened intently for the sound of the front door closing before jumping up and smiling at the ghosts.

“Okay!” Argo said, clapping his hands. “Phase three of Operation Angelfish is a go!”

For once, everything seemed to be going as normal. (Y/N) and Grim went to classes, got an update on the return potion from Professor Crewel (Just waiting for it to reduce to a concentrated form), had lunch, went to gym, nothing out of the ordinary. Which, as previously established, put (Y/N) on edge.

Everything seemed to be normal. Too normal, as far as (Y/N) was concerned. If she didn’t know better (and she did) it would seem like her friends were going out of their way to make it seem like nothing important was going on. There had been at least three times already where (Y/N) had walked up to a group, only for them to immediately stop talking, or very obviously switch topics, all while casting side-eyes at each other. She also couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t seen Floyd all day. Well, maybe out of the corner of her eye, or hearing his voice, but it was always cut off, he was pulled away by his brother, or one of her friends suddenly desperately needed her over there right this second.

She tried not to take this as some kind of commentary on the possible future relationship the two out of place children suggested. It wasn’t really that bad, was it? Her having feelings for Floyd? She knew Ace, Deuce, and Grim were pretty shocked when she had first confided in them. (“I think I like Floyd. Thought?” “And prayers.”) And while no one had ever said anything explicitly negative, besides the occasional teasing or complaining about her crush, there wasn’t anything actually encouraging either. (Y/N) knew she let Floyd get away with way too much most of the time, and only after interacting realized how moon-eyed she’d been acting. Half the time she thought Floyd might return her feelings, and the other half felt like he was taking advantage of her swayed good graces. It made her head spin and chest ache.

And now, with Cas and Argo appearing out of nowhere? Saying that they were married in some possible future? Happily married with children? The picture the boys painted was idyllic. The kind of thing (Y/N) had only seen in magazines or at the end of some Jane Austen novel. (Y/N) felt herself blush every time she thought about it, whether it was out of embarrassment or longing, she wasn’t sure. Dinners together, people from NRC coming to visit all the time, (Y/N) bringing traditional holidays from her world to celebrate, a beautiful house by the Coral Sea where the boys would learn to swim in their human and mer forms.

Was there a lingering darkness in the back of her mind that told her this meant she would never go back to her own world again? Sure, of course. Was there a nagging that this was only a possibility, and her own future still had a chance of being completely different? Yes, definitely.

Did that stop her from planning how exactly she would formally confess to Floyd once she made sure Cas and Argo got home safely? Not a chance.

Finally, it was the end of the day. (Y/N) was already planning in her head what to make for dinner when she heard someone call her name. Well, sort of her name.

“Child of man,” Malleus called, raising a hand in greeting from the quad.

“Oh, Horton,” She said, jogging over to him. “Hi, I don’t usually see you around now. How are you?”

Malleus puffed up with pride, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “I’ve been recruited.”

“Recruited?”

“By my future nephews. I’m meant to distract you.”

“Future-? Ah, I see.” (Y/N) had an adorable image flash in her mind of the twins and their doting Uncle Horton. “Any particular reason I’m being distracted?”

“I’m not meant to say.”

If they had managed to wrap Malleus into whatever they were doing, (Y/N) thought it couldn’t do that much harm. Why not let the boys have fun while they were still in the past? But just to be sure…

“Grim, you’ll make sure the house doesn't burn down while I’m gone, right?”

Grim saluted, giving a conspiratorial nod at Malleus before flying away.

Malleus offered his arm which (Y/N) took while they strolled away. “Should I be worried about what you’re all planning?” She asked.

He hummed. “Not at all. Now, have I ever told you about the controversy surrounding bat-styled gargoyles versus griffin-styled gargoyles in 15th century cathedral architecture?”

Floyd was mad. Actually mad. Sure he got annoyed or frustrated every once and awhile, but actually angry? That was a rarity that no one wanted to witness.

Not only had Shrimpy not let him stay the night at her dorm again, which, fine, it was her house, but he’d been trying to see her all day to no avail. Either someone would pull her away, Jade would appear out of nowhere and stall him until she was gone, or they’d just keep missing each other. It would have been one thing if circumstances kept them apart, coincidences were coincidental after all, and it’s not like they had never gone a day without seeing each other. But this was intentional, pointed and deliberate. He was in a Shrimpy drought and the people around him were building a dam.

And he couldn’t find his phone anywhere.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. His skin felt too tight and all the lights were too bright and he wanted to scream. He cut his last few classes and returned to Octavinelle. He had already started tearing off his jacket and shirt as he walked through the mirror portal, leaving clothing in a scattered trail as he marched his way to the decompression chambers that let out into the surrounding water around the dorm. He jumped into the water, the icy chill shocking his human system. He felt his muscles stretch and a comforting pressure encase his body as he shifted back to his mer-eel form, legs melding together as one as he whipped through the water. He shot through the water, scattering fish as he went. He didn’t have the patience to play with any of them today. He was finding he didn’t have the patience for a lot of things.

She’d try to tell him, once, that she liked him. That maybe she loved him, or that could have been him projecting. (Oh, dear Seven, did he love her?) She’d asked him to meet him in the gardens after school. She said she’d been thinking a lot and there was something extremely important she needed to tell him. He’d poked her, saying she should just tell him now, in the passing period between classes surrounded by curious and eavesdropping classmates. She’d said no, that she still needed to get her thoughts in order. She’d written a letter, she said, that she was holding firmly in her hands, but she thought he would appreciate a more direct approach. So. Garden. After school. She’d be waiting. And then the bell had rung and she’d run off.

And he’d left her waiting.

He hadn’t shown up. He’d heard later that she’d been there so long the grounds keepers had to ask her to leave so they could lock up the bio-dome at night. He’d seen her the next morning, eyes red and puffy, huddled with her first year friends who were speaking in low, comforting tones, trying to be affectionate and reassuring in that awkward way teenage boys did. And he had waltzed right over, picking her up and spinning her around. And she hadn’t mentioned the garden. She hadn’t mentioned the letter. She never mentioned any of it again. They fell back into their old rhythm, the one Floyd knew, the one he was comfortable with, the one he could predict.

He should have gone to the garden.

Why the hell hadn’t he gone to the garden?

Floyd burrowed into a reef section of a shallow, tearing at floating kelp with his claws and snapping jaws. He was trashing and writhing, kicking up the loose sand so it created a hazy cloud around him. The sand started getting in his mouth and eyes but he didn’t care. He welcomed the sting of it.

Argo and Cas being here meant everything was okay, right? If they had kids in the future, it meant everything worked out, right?

Floyd was mad. He was angry.

And he didn’t understand why.

“Floyd!” Floyd looked up, seeing Jade swimming towards him.

He scowled, turning away to focus on wreaking havoc on the underwater flora. “Not now,” He said through gritted teeth.

“Floyd, this isn’t the time-” Jade tried to reach out and touch his brother. Before he could make contact, Floyd whipped around with a snarl, swiping at Jade with his sharp claws.Jade quickly jerked out of the way, his surprise quickly melting to aggravation. Jade surged forward, catching Floyd around the stomach and tackling him to the sea floor. Floyd gnashed his teeth, clawing at Jade’s back. “What exactly do you think you’re going to accomplish here?”

“Get off!” Floyd writhed, wrapping his tail around Jade and spinning to loosen his brother’s grip. Momentarily free, Floyd took the opportunity to lunge at Jade again.

A fight, good. This is exactly what he needed. He needed to do something physical, something violent, something to get his mind out of whatever stoop he was stuck in, something so he didn’t have to focus on how bad he felt, something where the outcome could be predictable and certain, even if the certainty was pain. That was better than not knowing. That was better than letting feelings he couldn’t control take over his mind.

He and Jade wrestled, throwing each other into the sand, striking with teeth and claws, whipping with their tails. They didn’t cast any spells, which is the only way each twin was able to understand the severity of their fight, even if it was a subconscious understanding. Fighting was one thing, using magic against each other was another.

Finally, the two faced off, gills heaving with underwater breaths, scratches and gouges bleeding, eyes locked. Jade pushed back a little, careful not to make any sudden movements.

“Do you really think this is the best use of your time right now?” He asked.

Floyd snapped his teeth. “Who asked you? What do you know about anything, anyway?”

“I know (Y/N) tried to confess to you.”

Floyd froze, then felt another surge of anger bubble under his skin. Why did Jade know? What right did he have to know (Y/N)’s inner thoughts when Floyd himself couldn’t even have them?

“She told me,” Jade continued. “Or, I gathered from context clues. She asked if you had ever dated anyone back home, what sort of person you liked. She wanted to know if you prefer meeting in person to discuss important things or if she should leave a letter. Not that she really needed to discuss much. I would say it’s been rather obvious to anyone paying attention for the last few months. The real issue, I find, is why you haven’t confessed yourself.”

Floyd yelled, grappling Jade and sinking his teeth into his shoulder. Jade bit his lip to keep from crying out. He took advantage of the grapple to twist and pull Floyd into a headlock.

“I went there,” Jade continued through gritted teeth. “I went to the garden. I was planning on spying, I thought it’d be fun. But you never showed up. I kept waiting, and so did she, and you never appeared. Why in all of the deep blue sea didn’t you come?”

“I don’t know!” Floyd confessed. He went limp in Jade’s grasp, all the fight going out of him. He let out a choked cry, something Jade hadn’t heard from his brother in who knows how long. “I don’t know, I don’t know!”

Floyd sank to the rocky coral outcropping, collapsing. Jade observed him for a moment. He swam down, curling up next to Floyd.

“She still has feelings for you, you know.”

Floyd groaned deep in his chest. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t tell her. I can’t hear her say it. What happens after that, huh? What happens after we both say it?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s the problem! How do I know what to do? Do I change, does she? And what if neither of us do? I can’t risk it, I can’t lose her!”

“You’re losing her anyway.”

Floyd felt his anger flash again and lashed out with a claw which Jade easily dodged. The fight drained out of him again and he flopped back down.

Jade regarded Floyd. When he determined that Floyd wasn’t about to fly off the handle again, he came closer. “Don’t you think it’s selfish, keeping your feelings all to yourself?”

“Eels are cowards,” Floyd mumbled.

“But humans are brave.” Floyd peaked up at Jade. “They can’t survive long in water, they don’t have the heightened senses of beastmean, nor the longevity of fairies. They don’t have claws or teeth or endless magic supplies. But they’re brave and stubborn. That’s how they’ve lasted so long, become such a force in the world. And there’s a certain human we know that is exemplary in that regard.”

Floyd hummed. “She’s amazing. She’s pretty and smart and clever and strong and… What if I mess up, Jade?”

Jade patted Floyd’s back. “Then I’m sure she’ll let you know and you’ll figure it out together. Relationships require two people, after all.”

“You think she’ll forgive me? From before?”

“If you apologize, I’m sure she will. And, brother dear, I have the perfect setting for such an apology. Come on, we need to get you fitted with your suit. And maybe some stitches there above your eye.”

“Ow!” (Y/N) cried as she banged her shin for the third time.

“Sorry, Mama!” Argo said, pulling her hand to maneuver her around the low table.

“It’s fine. Are you sure I have to keep this blindfold on?” She reached up for it.

“No!” Cas gasped. “It’s a surprise!”

(Y/N) sighed and let herself be pulled along, gritting her teeth when she stubbed her toe on the side of a chair.

After Malleus had brought her back to Ramshackle after their walk and gargoyle lecture, she had immediately been set upon by the boys who kept insisting that she absolutely not look anywhere near the backyard. Almost immediately after walking in the door, Vil appeared seemingly out of nowhere and shoved a garment bag in her hands. The dress was beautiful, of course, and probably worth more than she could ever afford, in her old world or this one. It seemed like almost everyone she knew was bustling around the dorm, being extremely secretive. Finally, her boys had come to get her, giving her a blindfold to wear and gingerly escorting her down stairs.

‘Her boys.’ When exactly had she started thinking of them like that?

(Y/N) felt a cool breeze as she stepped outside. She could feel the boys walking her up the hill in the backyard, stopping suddenly.

“Okay, Mama,” Cas said, his voice bubbling with excitement. “You can look now!”

(Y/N) removed the blindfold and gasped at what she saw. The large oak tree in the back dripped with tiny string lights and paper lanterns. Fireflies gently bobbed around in the oncoming twilight. A small table, (Y/N) recognized it from the Heartslabyul rose garden, had been set up underneath the glowing bows, decorated with a candelabra.

“Oh, boys,” (Y/N) said, taking each of their hands. “This is beautiful. Is this what you’ve been up to all day?”

“Mostly!” Argo said.

“Yup, now it’s phase 4!” Cas said.

“Phase 4?” (Y/N) asked. The boys just dragged her over to the table and pulled out the chair for her. They made to rush away before Argo hastily corrected himself and pulled out a wireless speaker from behind the tree trunk. He took out what suspiciously looked like Floyd’s phone, sinking it up to the speaker. Soon, it began to play a string quartet. Argo smiled triumphantly, he and Cas taking hands and rushing back to the dorm.

(Y/N) smoothed her dress and sat down, watching the fireflies and sunset with the calming music in the background. There was a tea set on the table and she poured a cup. She paused for a moment before filling up the cup across from her as well. As she sipped the tea, she saw the silhouettes of Cas and Argo dragged someone around the side of the dorm. In the low light, she couldn’t exactly tell who it was, but based on the lanky form and fond body language, she guessed it was Floyd. She sighed inwardly, half excited to see him and half dreading it, especially in such a romantic location. So this way the boys’ real plan. She wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about that.

She stood up as Floyd came closer, stepping into the circle of light around the tree, ready to disperse whatever plot the boys had set up, before gasping. “Floyd! What happened?” Although Floyd was wearing a nice suit and tie, he had a black eye, a split lip, and a cut above one of his eyebrows that looked like it had been hastily patched with stitches. She rushed to him, her hands hovering around him. “Are you okay? Should we go to the infirmary? Who did those stitches - why do you have stitches!” She frowned. “Honestly, I keep telling you to stop getting into fights! One day you’re going to fight someone stronger than you and then where will we be? Look at you, you’re still bleeding!”

Floyd only grinned, leaning down so his forehead touched hers. “Shrimpy’s worried about me.”

She weakly pushed him off. “Of course I’m worried. Gosh, did the boys see you like this?”

Before she could take a step away, he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her in a tight hug. “I like when you’re worried about me.”

“Is that why you keep doing stupid stuff?”

Floyd hummed. “Maybe. If it makes you pay attention to me, then it’s worth it, right?”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to reply. She felt heat building up in her checks, a mixture of embarrassment and longing and something else she couldn’t quite place.

“Floyd, I-” “I like you, (Y/N).” She froze at his words. “I couldn’t say it before. I mean, I could, but I didn’t. And that’s my fault. It was bad, I was bad, I still am bad. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I just - You’re so much of everything. And I want that everything. I want us to share it, forever. I want to see you all the time because you make me so happy and I want to make you just as happy. I think we can be, together. I promise I’ll try, really hard. And I-” Floyd sniffed as (Y/N) pulled back. His face was flushed, tears dotting his lashes. He was trying to keep up his usual confidant grin, but it crumpled at the edges. “I’m sorry, Shrimpy. I’m so sorry I hurt you, that I acted like nothing was wrong, that nothing happened. I love you, you know that right? You know it now. I love you.”

“Oh, Floyd,” She muttered, brushing his hair away from his face. “If I kiss you now, is your lip going to start bleeding again?”

Floyd broke out into a real smile, letting out a choked laugh. He crushed (Y/N) to him, picking her up and spinning her around. He peppered kisses on her face while she giggled too. She took his face in her hands, gently lowering him closer and kissing him.

Back at the dorm, spying out the windows, Cas and Argo high fived.

The next morning was bright and sunny and (Y/N) couldn’t help but think it was all for her.

Cas and Argo were making their rounds in the quad, saying goodbye to their uncles, many of whom grew misty eyed and the imminent departure. Floyd was squeezing her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“Alright, pups, everyone settle down,” Professor Crewel called, waving everyone over. He took out a paper bag and shook out two dark purple oval candies, handing one to each boy. “Here, this will get you back to your time in the blink of an eye.” He patted each of their heads. “Be good, pups.”

The two took the candies and rushed over to Floyd and (Y/N). Floyd crouched down and picked each boy one at a time, throwing them in the air and catching them before repeating with the other. (Y/N) pulled them both into a tight hug, kissing the tops of their heads.

“I can’t wait to meet you boys for the first time,” She said.

“We’ll see you soon, Mama!” Argo said.

“Mama,” Cas said. “You’re going to take care of Papa, right?”

(Y/N) laughed as Floyd frowned. “Hey, shouldn't I be the one taking care of Mama?”

Cas frowned, a perfect mirror of his father. “Only kinda. Mama’s the one who does all the taking care of.”

“Well, when you get home, tell your Papa and he promised you ice cream.”

(Y/N) quickly whipped away the tears that were forming in her eyes. She cleared her throat to try and speak without faltering. “Speaking of, I’m sure your Mama and Papa are worried about you. I think it’s time to head off. But one more hug.” They crashed back into her open arms. Floyd threw his arms around all of them, squeezing tight.

Finally, the Cas and Argo each took the others hand, popping the candy in their mouth. Cas screwed up his face and Argo stuck out his tongue at the bitter taste of it. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh, comparing their reaction to hers when Floyd had first gotten her to drink the oracleum mycoculous tea. It seemed there was no good way to mask that taste.

Before their eyes, the twins started to fade out, as if they had been projections. They stared in fascination at their disappearing bodies. They looked up and waved and everyone waved back. Eventually, they slipped out of view. The group waited another moment, giving some sort of solemn respect to the family they would meet again in the future before dispersing.

“So,” Floyd, leaning down to speak quietly to (Y/N). “You never did answer me, Shrimpy.”

“Answer what?”

He grinned deviously and (Y/N) immediately regretted asking. “How many times you think it took before we got them.”

#fanfic #my work #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #magic plot points #this took me way to long #you have no idea #wafflefriesfic

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yorsgirl · 6 months

Text

Perfect Choice

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Sukuna didn't know getting you as his girlfriend would mean he had to step up and watch you try on a hundred dresses.

In which you take Sukuna for dress shopping.

Tropes: Fluff, Established relationship

Warnings: suggestive, No Curse AU, Human!Sukuna, Sukuna is Sukuna, healthy relationship, kinda OOC, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 2.7k

Sukuna didn't sign up for this.

Watching you choose through a rack of dresses wasn't on his list of fun things. It was a chore, at most. He'd much rather be sitting before his PC with his headphones on and play COD than be standing in a fashion boutique.

"Aww c'mon, don't make that face now," You stifle the urge to chuckle at his obviously irritated expression.

He rolls his eyes, pushing his hand in his pocket. He should have never agreed to accompany you in your little find the right dress expedition.

And he would have said no, if only you didn't conjure your eyes into one of the cutest baby faces while jutting out your lower lip. On top of that, you had to go with the little – Please, at the end.

How could he not give in?

God, he was weak in front of that expression. Not that he'll ever admit it out loud. But he thinks, you already know that.

"Would you like to try that on, Ma'am?" An attendant approaches the both of you, gesturing to the dress you have in hand.

You pursue your lips and nod, "Yes but I would like to see some more."

"May I know the type of dress you require?"

"An evening gown," You knit your eyebrows but keep the smile. "Its a formal party so if you could..." You trail off and the attendant gets the message as she points the trial room for you and leaves to get some more dress which you can try.

"When will this end?" Sukuna sighs and mutters under his breath.

"When I find my dress, come." You turn on your heels and start walking.

"Why should I?" He asks exasparately.

"Don't you want to see me try them on?"

"I don't care."

"Well, too bad." You give him a sheepish smile. "You have to. Now, follow." You command, skipping over to the trial rooms to which he grumbles something under his breath but follows regardless.

There are four trial rooms, each one has a stool with multiple hooks on the left wall and two full length mirrors. Outside, a small yet broad lane passes before them with a common full length mirror situated on one wall. Opposite to which there is a white couch.

Good for both of you, its a weekday so there isn't much rush and the trial rooms are free. The attendant returns with a few other dresses, hangs them up in a room and leaves.

You look at Sukuna, "Just cause you agreed to come, I will let you have the first pick." You point to the flurry of dresses hanging on the hooks.

Pick a dress? Like he knows anything about them in the first place. His crimson eyes flicker with annoyance as they narrow, "Just wear whatever you want, woman."

"I will wear whatever you pick." You say confidently and his lip twitches but he doesn't let the smirk show yet.

"I don't know shit about your shitty dresses."

"Then you'll learn something, today." You tease which earns you a scowl from him. "Pick one."

He groans, momentarily glancing up at the ceiling then turning to the dresses. He doesn't even take two seconds before pointing the one at center.

"Orange?"

"Yes."

"Fine," With a smile on your face, you enter the trial room and start to get changed.

He sighs and sits down on the couch. It'd be a long day but at least he gets to sit.

Sukuna wants to laugh. Previously, he wouldn't have taken a second look at these stores and now he is waiting for you to get changed in any of them and put on a show for him.

Just what have you reduced him into? He swears, you are a witch behind that pretty facade.

Three minutes later, he hears the door being unlocked. You come out and you are... glaring at him.

"Your choice sucks." You declare as soon as you step out of the trial room.

Sukuna has to stifle the snort on the brink of his lips. He obviously didn't care while making the pick and its showing. You are wearing the orange dress he chose and it's a clear indication that it's a - No. With a large bow on the black waistband and the number of layers of skirt, it looks like you are inflated.

But your fury is amusing so he retorts back, "You're my choice."

"Yeah, the only place it did not suck." You shoot back and march inside the trial room without waiting for his response. Finally, he can let out the snicker.

You come out a few minutes later wearing a green dress. You take a spin, "So?"

"Add feathers and wings, you can cosplay a parrot." He mocks.

"Still better than your pick."

"Really? You are picking this?" He raises an eyebrow, you stay silent and walk back into the trial room. The answer is clear. No.

You come out wearing another one, its got a white bodice, a pink belt and a dark (he doesn't know what exactly it is except it looks like the middle color between grey and blue) skirt. The conclusion is apparent: it's hideous.

"And you got the nerve to say my choice sucks?" He lips curl up into a smirk and you glare at him.

"We all have our moments." You shrug, taking a twirl in it. Looking at your reflection, you grunt, "God, I look ugly."

"The dress is ugly," He corrects, leaning back on the couch, just then the attendant returns. His eyes move to her, lips curving down in a disapproving grin. "What are you, blind?

"Sor–"

"Does your choice range from a grandma to clowns?" He remarks with a roll of his eyes.

"Sukuna!" You exclaim in panic. Forcing a smile on your lips, you glance at the attendant. "Ah- sorry, he didn't mean that..."

"Of course I di–"

"We'd see something in different style," You say before your boyfriend can run his mouth. You shoot him a glare and he shoots back another.

Keep your mouth shut.

No.

Yes.

Try me.

It's like you are communicating with eyes alone and a grin stretches on his lips and boy... that isn't good news. He is again about to say something but you speak first.

"Can you bring us something more modern and maybe... formal?"

"As you say, ma'am." The attendant answers politely, walking out of the room.

You shoot Sukuna a scowl, "Are you crazy?"

"I call it honesty." He says with conviction. "Don't tell me you really liked any one of these shits."

He may not be a dress expert but he knows a good outfit when he sees one and among the ones you tried on, they are level below of what is considered good.

He knows he's right, your frown shows as you shake your head.

You again vanish into the changing room, the attendant arrives with a few more dresses for you before leaving you two alone again.

"I'll be quick."

He hears you from inside and he wants to say - make it quicker, but he can't. The last thing he wants is you sulking all day cause you couldn't find your perfect dress. And even though, you wouldn't bother him but he will be bothered just by looking at that expression.

"Take your time, I am here."

You don't answer but he thinks you have heard him. For the next fifteen minutes, you try on a few dresses. They are better than the first three, still not up to the mark. Either mobility is a problem or the fabric being tight around certain areas or the color being unflattering.

Sukuna has his phone out and he is scrolling through his messages when he hears you curse from the trial room (his ears are sharp).

"What happened?" He asks, standing up from the couch.

"This is... bad."

"How much?"

"Borderline stripper."

That catches his interest, his eyebrow twitches. Would something really that revealing be in a fashion boutique? Considering, its one of the posh stores in city, the chances are slim.

"Can't be."

"It is," You quickly reply.

"Prove me wrong then," He adds, crossing his hands over his chest. "Come out."

You don't speak for a minute and he opens his mouth but you croak out a, "come here." Sukuna obliges quickly, standing before your door when the lock turns and he sees you.

It's like all his blood ran down to his manhood.

You are wearing a black full sleeved dress. The color is flattering. And it would have been fine if it was just that but it isn't.

The V neckline runs too deep to the end of your chest, revealing your skin and your side breasts. A shimmering belt adorns your waist, a slit emerges from your right thigh giving him the full view of your exposed leg.

Sukuna could feel his throat going dry and stomach tightening. His finger twitches and he wants to feel your skin on his. He swallows a lump, trying to keep himself from staring at your tits which would have spilled out if not for the tight fabric (as if that does any good either as it only sticks to you as a second skin). He tears his eyes off the cleavage window, returning to your face.

"And?"

And what? This is a no. He wants to say that.

The dress itself isn't bad and you look good in it. But its too revealing and he's too much of a selfish man to let the lust filled eyes of those shitheads from campus wander on your body.

No, that's not permeable. No way in hell is he going to let others see you in that way.

He clears his throat and answers, "If you want everyone looking at your chest then go on."

"Told you, its bad." You place your hand on your waist and lean a bit forward. He has to resist his eyes from wandering below to your breasts and cleavage which is accentuated by your new pose.

A fire alights in his body and his thoughts are flickering to a direction he doesn't want them to. Still, the temptation of running his fingertips on your– NO.

He shakes his head. "Remove this dress."

You need to remove this dress. He needs you out of this dress.

He pauses before quickly adding, "change into another."

Yeah, that's what he meant, obviously. You need to change into another dress.

You nod and pivot around, he is trying not to stare at your the curve of your ass. You push your hair to one side, glancing at him from the periphery. "Can you uh... can you unzip it? The sleeves are tight."

The dress was already enough of a problem, now your insane request.

He complies wordlessly. Each second feels like eternity to him, your zipper comes down in a agonizing slow pace. And he has to refrain himself from pressing his lips on your nape.

He steps away from the room as the door closes. He clenches his fist and curses under his breath, "Fuck..."

"I'll take a trip to the washroom." He shouts to let you know and is stomping out before you can answer.

He doesn't realize that his face is red and he is sweating until he reaches the stalls.

Now you are staring at yourself on the common mirror of the lane.

A pink gown reaching till your ankles, its got poofy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Sequins adorns the bodice, small glitter stars on the white net over the skirt.

Sukuna watches from behind you, his arms folded over his chest. A ghost of a smile on his lips, "Like it, princess?"

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at him from the mirror. The corner of your lip curls involuntarily, "Princess?"

"Do look like one while wearing that." He answers.

You know it's not his attempt at flirting, he's being honest but the your cheeks tinge just a bit of red.

You playfully roll your eyes, pushing the strands of hair from your eyes, "I am more eligible for a queen."

He already believes you are his queen. But he'd never say it out loud to you but anyone who knows him, they know that you are his queen. You are his.

"Like it or not?" He questions again, watching as your fingertips glide over the garment.

Pressing on the larger sequins and the broach placed over your heart. He notes the uncertainty clear in your expression, the hesitance clear. You are bothered, somehow.

"I mean... it's good and the color's nice and there- there's no problem but its uh..." You pause, trying to find the right words. "What should I say? It's Uhm..."

"Too much?" He offers.

"Too much."

His crimson irises meet yours in the mirror. The tender stare isn't missed, stark contrast to his attitude half an hour ago. No words are spoken in between but its almost like a conversation is held in gaze alone.

After a second, both of your lips stretches into a smile (his looks like a smirk more).

"Am I indecisive?"

"You have tried almost ten dresses, woman." He states with a roll of eyes. "Of course, you are."

You frown and Sukuna wants to hit himself for making that comment.

"I can take thi–"

"Now don't settle for something which you obviously don't like," He interrupts you. "The last thing I want is my girl wearing something she hates."

You have to pinch your lips together to not let the smile show but it's damn difficult when he has that smirk on his face and blood rushes to your cheek.

There's just something that happens when he calls you his.

You march up to the changing room, "Want to make another awful choice for me?"

His answer would have been no but he can't say that cause he wants to pick a dress for you.

No, he wouldn't admit that it's fun. He is just... amused. Yes, amused.

He looks at the dresses again. And by look, he is actually looking. Analyzing the styles, colors and fabric before he points the one at right.

"Red?"

"Red."

"Red it is," You affirm and step into the room again.

He leans against the wall of the common area, scrolling through his phone to kill time. But the wait is killing him and the device doesn't distract his impatience to see you in his pick.

After a minute, he hears your voice, "This is it."

Curiosity plagues him again, he straightens himself up and you step outside.

You are glowing.

Sukuna's breath hitches in his throat, eyes widening just slightly. He takes every inch of your form, engraving it in his mind.

The dress isn't one with complex designs or embellishments. A simple off-shoulder red dress reaching till your ankles accentuating the waist and the skirt then flows all the way out.

Less is more; whoever said that, they were damn right.

However, it isn't the dress that has him transfixed. It's the fact that you are smiling. You are twirling. You are posing. You are beaming.

"It's perfect," You tell him, taking a spin as the skirt twirls in the air and you giggle like a kid.

It is. The dress is perfect. You are perfect.

"Like it, princess?" He asks even though he knows the answer, he wants to hear it from you.

You look at him with disbelief still with the smile. "Like it? Oh no, I don't like it. I love it."

You skip over to him, still beaming. Standing on your tip toes, you press your lips on his cheek. "Thank you." You express while grinning.

You don't get a second to react when Sukuna grabs your chin, tilting your face aside and smashes his lips on yours. Heat rushes to your face when you feel him smirk against your lips.

The curve of his mouth still remains even when he lets you go. "Thank me properly, princess."

"Will this nickname go on?"

He pushes a strand of your hair back your ear, "Now and forever." He pulls you in for a kiss again and you happily oblige.

When he is driving you back home, the dress packed in a bag and rests in the backseat. You are still smiling while looking out the window.

He keeps on taking secret glimpses of you once in a while. A thought stick his mind.

Sure, he never signed up for this but he is 100% sure that he made the perfect choice.

Either in dress or you.

He has made the perfect choice.

His hand involuntarily reaches for yours which rests on your thigh. Interlocking your fingers, he brings it up and brushes his lips on the back of your hand.

You take a peek at him which he returns it with a grin, his canines glinting in the dim light.

"Next time you go shopping, you are calling me."

A/N: There's a lack of Sukuna fluff in tumblr and I was in desperate need for some soft moments. Hence, I wrote this. Hope you liked it! Likes and comments are appreciated :)

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna fluff #jjk sukuna #sukuna jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna fanfic #ryomen sukuna fanfiction #sukuna jujutsu kaisen

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sl4sh3rsub · 8 months

Text

patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)

patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions

a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention

if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card

show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him

if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night

his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent

he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation

yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?

he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(

he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm

you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust

after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship

something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask

whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view

patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<

he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)

if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day

your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight

patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone

he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending

he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.

if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3

despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties

you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)

if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera

he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing

patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway

if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock

patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly

patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease

you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare

get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles

while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired

if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear

when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you

he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you

imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries

expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state

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luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine

although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle

in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity

if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat

whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind

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patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat

when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick

patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit

it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<

patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick

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patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3

bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom

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patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>

if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length

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thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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