so romantic i might die, very interesting plot and engaging dialogues tooâlove this series soooo much!! i'm looking forward to the side stories!
Insert Your Name (12)
Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader
Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven!
Notes and TW: Last chapter! Side stories will follow. Thank you for sticking with this series for so long! This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!
Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi
7:30 P.M. DD/MM/YYYY
I thought I knew the truth for a whileâthat this world existed inside a story. That this was a world which revolved around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around me existed to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world was created for â(Y/N).â
I was Friend A. Friend A was never mentioned again after page two of that story.
It turns out that I was sort of wrong. This world is made for stories, from stories, and (Y/N) happened to be the main character at the time. Now that Iâm the author, I made myself the main character.
You wrote âstoryâ and âworldâ so much that they hardly look like real words anymore. The tip of your pen hovers over the first page of your journal. Itâs your first time keeping one, and you arenât certain how to proceed. What tone do you use? Should it be informal or professional? How long should each entry be? How detailed should you make it?
The trapdoor to the attic flips open. Floydâs head pokes through it like a garden eel in the sand.
âWhatcha doinâ over there? Still lookinâ for that manuscript?â
You shake your head. The manuscript for (Y/N)âs story disappeared without a trace after your meeting with Hans. No matter how hard you searched, nothing turned up, so you could only assume he retrieved it.
âNo use in looking for it. Iâm starting on my journal.â The pen twirls in your hand. âIâm not really sure how I want to write it.â
He hoists himself up and saunters over to where youâre curled up at the window. He peers at your handwriting. Flippantly, he flops on the floor next to you and yawns.
âWho caaares. Write whatever ya feel like writinâ. Itâs not like the one before was any good.â
The previous authorâs manuscript was riddled with inconsistencies, plot holes, and grammar mistakes. It wouldnât be a massive problem. Hans would simply have to work harder to fill in the gaps.
âThe previous one failed, though.â
âThen just donât fail.â He grins up at you. âEasy, right?â
You pinch his nose, laughing when he swats at your hand.
âEasier said than done.â Despite that, his words ease the burden on your shoulders just a bit. You donât need to overthink this. Itâs your story, yours to tell however youâd like. âThanks for the advice, though.â
âSure, sure.â Your name rolls off his tongue dismissively. âYou worry too much.â
You glance at him. âYouâve been calling me âRed Handfishâ recently, whyâd you switch back to my name?â
The lamplight glints in Floydâs eyes briefly, then he closes them. A lazy grin spreads on his lips.
âI was calling ya âRed Handfishâ âcuz I was hopinâ youâd get your hands all red and bloody again.â A huff of air escapes him. âShoulda been there when you beat up the security.â
âTypically, youâre supposed to not hope Iâm beating up your men.â
âItâs fine. Not like Jade and I need much protectinâ.â His voice quiets down to a mumble. âYouâre enough for security or whatever.â
His voice trails off at the end. Soon, quiet snores fill the attic. Seeing that he isnât planning on disrupting your writing, your attention returns to your journal. Following his advice might not be a bad idea.
My main priority was to break the curse on Mr. and Mrs. Leech. I thought Iâd have to ask (Y/N) to reach out to Vil Schoenheit or write something in this journal, but it turns out I didnât have to do anything. Hans went ahead and nudged the odds in my favour already. At least, I suspect he had a hand in it. But Iâm never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so Iâll happily accept that Walrusâs team and our own people have found a way to break the curse.
Azul was slightly disappointed that he didnât manage to find a method on his own. He really wanted to put the twins in his debt, but I guess heâll have to sulk. His specialty is potions, after all. Not curses. Heâs also a little salty because this implies Vil Schoenheit is still more skilled than him on the subject of curses. His competitive nature never dies down when it comes to other competent people, even after all these years.
Anyway, the curse was undone three days ago. Theyâve woken up perfectly stable and healthy, if a little tired. The twins have spent nearly every waking hour in their room. Iâm glad theyâre all looking much more lively.
Their parents wanted to go right back to work, but Jade and Floyd have been very insistent on making sure they rest. Right now, Jade and his parents have decided to split up the work equally, but Jade plans on eventually relinquishing his position as the temporary head of the Leech Mafia. He doesnât want it back anytime soon. His parents might want him to keep observing their work, but I think heâll take a long breather after the Carpenter Mafia dissolves. He says he wants to join a research lab on fungi. Iâm sure heâll enjoy himself there.
Speaking of Jadeâs interests, Floyd owes him quite a bit for breaking his terrariums. You cast a glance at the twin dozing off on the floor. Jadeâs been working him hard. Just as youâre about to pull a knitted blanket off the window seat and drape it over his torso, Jade climbs up to the attic.
âAh, I thought I might find you two here.â He ignores your shushing motion, speaking nearly louder than his usual conversational volume. âHave you made any progress on that journal?â
âKeep it down, Floydâs sleeping.â
âOh? I suppose he is.â He smiles as though heâs entirely innocent. âEven though he should be running an errand on the west side of the city right now. Isnât that so, my dear brother?â
Floyd stirs, brows furrowing as he grumbles. âFuck off, man.â
âIâm afraid youâre late. Why donât you head out? It wouldnât do for you to procrastinate.â Jade leans over him, his shadow eclipsing Floydâs face. The latter gripes some more before rolling away and hopping right through the trapdoor. His footsteps echo through the halls, eventually leading to the sound of the front door.
âHeâs tired. You should let him rest.â You close your journal and set it beside you.
He kneels by your seat and rests his head on your knee. Gingerly, you reach out and comb your fingers through his hair. His entire body melts against the wall and your knee.
âI am also tired.â His eyelids drop halfway, a pitiable pout on his lips. âMuch more so than he is, Iâm sure.â
âAnd what? You want a gold medal for the Fatigue Olympics?â Despite your words, your other hand holds his jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek. âCome on, get off the floor. It canât be comfortable.â
He sighs in contentment. âWith the way youâre touching me, I have half a mind to stay where I am.â
Youâve come to realize that Jade acts this way when heâs looking for attention, and he only actively looks for attention from you. With a sigh escaping the smile on your lips, you ease his head off your knee and move your legs so that your feet touch the floor. He has the gall to look like a kicked puppy.
âYouâre so dramatic.â You pat the cushioned space next to you. âSit up here.â
Itâs like his fatigue disappears as soon as you extend the invitation. He wastes no time in sitting next to you, his thigh pressing against yours. One of his hands reaches behind you. You feel it causing the cushions to shift under you as he uses it to support his weight. Strangely, it feels more intimate than if he had touched you directly. The knowledge that his arm is there creates a sense of security. Sturdy, safe, like the face of a cliff that has your back. Heâll never be a threat to you. You think back to what you once thought of people who trust Jade, and you wonder if youâre a fool, desperate, or if you have something on him.
It might not be so bad to be a fool once in a while.
You lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. A pause, followed by the light pressure of his cheek against your hair. His body is cool to the touch like always, and you find comfort in it.
âIâll help you make new terrariums to replace the ones Floyd broke.â
âHow kind of you.â The hand behind you lifts, only to find its place on your waist, securing you to his side. âIn that case, I should consider what Iâd like to grow in them. Lichen would decorate some surfaces well, but I doubt it would be possible.â
âLichen?â You often see it back home near the shore. âWhy not?â
âIt cannot survive in a closed system like my terrariums.â His voice lowers to a soft, almost sweet tone. âIt requires clean, fresh air, outside the confines of a box that I control. The charm of keeping a terrarium is that I control every factor within it, down to what lives or dies. But despite the fact that it eludes my grasp, I adore observing its beauty in the environment where it thrives.â
Somehow, you donât think heâs talking about lichen anymore.
âLichen grows on trees and rocks, right?â You think about the cliffside. Patches of pale green life covered the rocks where you met Jade. It brought a sort of earthy, rustic quality to the area. âItâs pretty. I think Iâve seen a few of your photos focusing on it.â
âYes, it needs to be anchored to a sturdy surface.â He adjusts his grip on your waist. âUnassuming, allowing other elements of the scenery to shine, but charming and effective in its own right.â
You donât want to ask if heâs referring to you. Heâll surely tease you for being self-absorbed. However, you are not so prideful as to not acknowledge what heâs trying to say.
âI sort of understand wanting to be anchored to something.â You place one hand over his. âItâs easier to let my guard down when thereâs something that can protect my back.â
âAllow me to assist you with that.â He intertwines your fingers. âIf you must be anchored to something, Iâll be more than happy to provide you with support forever, until you ask me to stop.â
âAll this talk about âforever.ââ A grin pulls at your lips. Thereâs no harm in teasing him once in a while. âItâs like youâre trying to marry me. Whatâs with that, huh?â
His entire body freezes. You lift your head from his shoulder, trying to look at his face.
âJade? I was jokingââ
He gently presses against your temple, his wrist blocking your eyes as he guides your head back down to his shoulder. What a letdown. This time, you really wanted to see his expression.
âIncidentally,â he says, âwould you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?â
âYou changed the topic way too abruptly.â Laughter bubbles in your throat. âI thought you were better at making conversation than that.â
âIâm inclined to disagree.â He doesnât elaborate. âAre you free tomorrow evening? We can book a reservation for that restaurant you wanted to try.â
Usually, you wouldnât turn it down. But . . .
âSorry, Iâll be out with (Y/N) all day.â Youâve missed her. And after she called you in distress over losing the polaroids you took together, you promised to replace them with new ones. Thereâs so much you have yet to do with her. âMaybe the day after?â
Jade sighs loudly, as though heâs the most pitiful being in the world. Amidst teasing laughter, you close your journal and focus your attention on him. Itâs alright to take your time writing it. Your story is a process that does not need to be rushed. It may only be a page at the moment, but one day, youâre sure this journal will fill with your experiences, plans, and thoughts. You will continue on living as your own personânot a side character or a main character in a grander scheme, but as yourself. To live as a human being with your unique experiencesâthat is your story.
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