#fic: duty is the death of love | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madame-fear · 6 months ago

Note

Okay but like am I the only one that thrives on angst?? Because imagine if Jacaerys and his young wife, who he by the way only married for the support of The Arryns, had marriage problems because there’s always been tension between her and Baela (just an idea, I love my Baela bc she’s my girl!!) as Jacaerys was supposed to be married to her instead..and might I mention that reader was shipped off to Dragonstone by herself to give birth to her son and she’s been alone and scared all the time, until she’s brought back to Kingslanding after her mother in-law, Queen Rhaenyra, finally claimed back the throne with a peace treaty between the Hightowers. His wife is so so shy and alone because she’s only used to being with their baby, and Jacaerys is just absolutely worried for her because he hasn’t visited her at all due to his duties as heir and it just so happens that his wife thinks he hates herr 💔💔 (this was a bit long..but idk)

𐙚 𝐐𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : the so awaited Arryn reader fic is here !! Hope it was what you expected, and overall enjoy it! Thought this was longer than 3.6k words! 😭🤲💗 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : ∿ request above! ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 3.6k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : angst to fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Arryn!Wife!Reader.

After many years of a long, nearly never ending war, it had finally subsided— bringing peace for once and for all. It had been the same war that provoked the death of innocent people, and the one responsible for your marriage with Prince Jacaerys, as well.

A rather complex marriage, you’d say it was— though, it was an engagement that could only be expected. Betrothals and marriages had never been done for the sake of genuine love, but only for the sake of allies & tying deeper bonds between the Houses; helplessly falling in forced, unhappy marriages.

There had been little to no time for any of you two to establish some sort of proper relationships between each other. It worked as an engagement with the sole purpose of gaining support from House Arryn amidst the war with the Greens. “A betrothal, in exchange for support”, and it served with it’s purpose as it should in a way, you guessed.

Except, for the looming tension that came along your marriage.

Jace’s previous betrothal to Lady Baela, firstborn daughter of the Rogue Prince, wasn’t unbeknownst to you; a betrothal that had to be broken off when you appeared in the picture, as the support from the Arryns would be placed as number one priority— with Jacaerys marrying you as the one and only condition for yet another ally. It was inconvenient, but very much needed.

The growing tension between you and his previous betrothed notoriously loomed in the air as soon as you both met one another— being presented with little to no words from Baela, and most of the time, all the endless attempts you did in order to establish a good relationship with her, were dismissed; thrown into the wind, as you were given a cold stare, with no words said... Being walked right past, left ignored.

Often times, you could feel her contemptuous stare fixed on you, each time you were sat next to Jacaerys.

Solitude had leisurely grown as a frequent monster lurking in your surroundings. “I can’t do anything about it, I can’t act as an intermediary to your relationship.” was the strict response given to you by your future Lord Husband, when speaking your mind regarding how the Lady Baela gave you a cold shoulder, despite the constant friendliness you had to offer.

Jacaerys didn’t seem to care much at all. You swore that the eldest Velaryon prince was as indifferent towards you, as his previous betrothed was— maybe, he even resented you for breaking off his already arranged betrothal. And you couldn’t say you didnt understand the situation, however.

Years of having known, trusted, each other, growing by each other’s side... Having their betrothal arranged for years— you could even silently observe the way in which they gazed at each other, occasionally. All of that had only been for it to turn into ash & dust when the time to seek support from allies had come.

But what other choice did you have, except none at all? Had you any blame, at all? Were you truly the one at fault? The growing solitude and the hefty weight of guilt was nearly asphyxiating. You felt desperately trapped in an escapeless labyrinth, being fully aware of how you had no one at all to release each one of your thoughts to— with your betrothed often giving you a cold shoulder as well, or simply, being far too engaged in his duties. Each private conversation, managed to quickly be dismissed; you had been forced to be kept to yourself, in a way.

All for a war between kin. All for the sake of allies. And you, right in the middle of it all.

Things hadn’t grown to become any better at all by the time you fell pregnant with your first child— with his child. Much less considering it was all still under the looming tension of war felt in the atmosphere.

Dragonstone had become your temporary home; one you had been sent to all by yourself, still being with child. Taking proper care of yourself throughout your pregnancy had been a difficult task, considering how the general situation provoked a constant state of fright and concern to you. Alone, with no one else to rely on; finding mere solace in talking to yourself... Or, rather, talking quietly to your unborn child.

It wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing for the fragile conditions you were mentally experiencing— it simply deepened that inner void, those bitter feelings of loneliness; poisoning you slowly with every quiet tear you dropped late at night in your chambers, after holding on to the knot that formed on your throat during the day.

The rocky castle had been the same place where you had birthed your child— a healthy boy, much to your fortune. Something that the Gods had finally graced you with. And that grace was, providing an heir for your husband... Though, you had given birth to your babe in the mere company of a few maids, and maesters. Your own mother-in-law couldn’t be there by your side, as much as she deeply desired to. Your own husband, with his duties as Rhaenyra’s heir, couldn’t assist, either— and much less, your own blood.

The Gods have a strange way of treating you, you thought. Blessing you with an heir to your husband, and, simultaneously, remaining to provide you with solitude throughout the entire way.

Not long passed after you gave birth, that war had finally subsided, moving from Dragonstone to King’s Landing with a small babe in your arms. Queen Rhaenyra had made peace treaty with the Greens, allowing her to claim her birthright, the Iron Throne, for once and for all— bringing a wave of relief, tossing aside a hefty weight burdening you.

Of course, just one small bit of a burdening weight had been removed from your life, and you dared to say, it was the most important heaviness lingering on the atmosphere— yet, you still had your own issues to solve. Moving all by yourself with a small baby boy towards the Red Keep wasn’t an easy task either, it simply stirred the occasional anxiety you suffered, along with bitter loneliness.

Those series of events happened in, what you considered, to be such a short time lapse— barely allowing you to process your wedding ceremony, the looming tension between you and his previous betrothed, not being able to have properly bonded with your husband as you married for mere alliances, having very little bonding with your mother-in-law, living in a whole different place from one day to another, having a babe, and moving once again this time with your child after the peace treaty...

... And you could keep naming each, and every single one of the little things that provoked an asphyxiating knot on your throat; one you had to bitterly swallow and keep to yourself. How could you not be overwhelmed with the circumstances?

You had grown used to being alone, with only the company of your little boy to keep your sanity hanging from a fragile, fraying thread. You briefly, and very feebly managed to interact with the rest of the members of House Targaryen— but you never throughoutly engaged in a deeper bond with them, or were often seen walking around the large halls, once the war had finished and you moved to the Red Keep.

The war had passed immediatly after the peace treaty with the Hightowers. No usurper on the Throne, no more dead men and innocent people— and all the burden you carried behind of you now, was that of the lurking solitude haunting you. It was just your small, sweet boy and you to spend time together; the one whom you found some warmth, despite still being practically a babe. Though, you couldn’t occasionally help but long for the company of anyone else from your new family.

At the present moment, you spent time on your private chambers. your little boy rested on your lap, as you quietly sat on the ground. On his hand, was a dragon wooden toy which he played with— making some cooing sounds. He had been your only companion for the moment, managing to spare you from any feelings of loneliness from the moment you had learned you were with child, being the one you often spoke to despite not receiving back an answer.

A faint grin graced your lips, with your hand gently caressing the back of his hair. You craned your head gently, releasing a soft chuckle at the sight of your boy engaged into his own world. You both were almost headed to sleep, but you preferred to spend some more time together— enjoying the quietness of the night, and the peace that came along.

The stillness looming in the atmosphere had been interrupted by a soft knock sounding twice against the wooden doors of your chambers. Raising your sight curiously as your boy remained playing in your lap with the wooden dragon toy. Not often having many visitors at the late hours of the night, you softly muttered “Come in.”

The door was gently swayed, revealing to be your Husband the one who knocked, closing the door behind him— which, it wasn’t a common occurence, for him to visit you in your chambers. The constant duties of the eldest Velaryon prince, on his role of being his mother’s heir to the Throne, were more than time-consuming; occupying the entirety of his attention.

But of course, with you being his wife, mother of his son, having shared little to nothing — plus having married only for alliances — and having some previous marriage problems regarding his broken betrothal, could only burden his thoughts. You had done an important effort to be a proper wife to him, one that couldn’t pass unnoticed.

You married to support what his mother fought for, you managed the notorious tension there was between you and his previous betrothed— you had given him a son, birthing all by yourself, and moved to Dragonstone, and then the Red Keep all by yourself, as well; only for him to spend his days focused on what was asked of him, leaving little time to even pay you and your baby son a short visit.

Guilt was overriding him in a constant, haunting manner. It was only natural for Jacaerys to be consumed by his preoccupied feelings towards you. Perhaps, you didn’t often engage or bond together in a convenient way, and you might’ve had troubles before when it came to discussing about your uneasy relationship with Lady Baela— but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you, much less notice your strenght in every sense.

It was only fair to show his appreciation, and his concern for your wellbeing.

“Hope I’m not troubling both of you with my presence?” Jace said in a lighthearted manner, with a faint grin appearing on his rosy lips, tilting his head briefly. His presence had been quite a surprise for you, and that expressed on the looks in your features, along with some tension in the air— not being used to being visited by Rhaenyra’s heir, your husband. Which, if anything, it deepened the looming guilt on him.

You shook your head gently, looking down at your son timidly, using your index finger to delicately caress him on his cheek. “Not at all, we were spending some time before heading to sleep.” you muttered in response. “Is anything the matter? Has something happened?” you inquired with slight concern, furrowing your eyebrows, lifting your gaze once again, staring into his dark coffee eyes. The innocence on your features were most beloved by him, managing to properly appreciate them as, now, it was just the two of you in the room— no duties in between, no one else to bother you.

Jacaerys shook his head. “Nothing’s the matter, fortunately.” he answered, with a tone of relief. His lips frowned for a split second, thoroughly processing his words before continuing. “I... Simply wished to pay you, and our son, a visit— as I haven’t been able to do so lately with my duties as my mother’s heir.” his eyes lingered on the ground shyly, before returning to stare at your own. “I wanted to know if you were doing alright as well, and if you felt comfortable around, of course.”

The expressions on your face softened leisurely. “Oh,” your lips partly opened in surprise, stuttering for a moment, before closing them rather quickly. You had been momentarily taken aback by his unexpected statement, as you had never shared a private moment like this with him before. It had been a situation you would have never guessed you would ever experience, yet, here you were— and it felt as if the world surrounding you stopped for a second.

You swallowed thickly, looking down over your boy, who stared at his father, and then at you. “Keep playing with your toys, my love. I will be right back.” pressing a smooch on your son’s forehead, you carefully moved him so he would sit on the rug decorating the room beneath both of you. A wide, almost toothless smile graced his features, before continuing to play with his own toys as you stood, and approached Jace.

It was almost admirable how much of a dedicated, loving mother you were, Jace thought to himself, staring at the scene— with a grin helplessly increasing on the corner of his lips. Your hands turned into fists, meekly fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. You almost couldn’t stare at him in the eyes, allowing him to notice as well a growing fluster in your cheeks.

“I-I’m... Doing quite alright.” the words came off whispered, and stuttered, from your lips, “We have been managing together all this time, after the war.” you mentioned, staring at your boy — who was absorbed into his own innocent world — before returning to stare at Jacaerys. “Thank you... For asking.” the eldest Velaryon smiled sweetly at you, noticing how you very faintly stared at him in the eyes.

“I’m quite relieved to hear so.” he replied back, in a low, casual tone, continuing to offer a kind grin to you as his eyes guided themselves towards his baby boy playing in the background. Brief moments of awkward silence passed, with a palpable tension in the atmosphere.

You had been given little time — to not say , none at all — to bond with each other, before your wedding ceremony. You knew nothing about one another, and it could only be expected that you would be awkward in each other’s presence. But now that the war had ended, the possibility of engaging in a proper, sweet manner with each other was now given. You could softly hear Jace take a deep breath, before continuing to talk with you.

“I came to visit you to offer my apologies, as well.” furrowing your eyebrows, your stare darted at his own— which lingered on the ground, noticing a rosy taint beginning to cover his cheeks. “What for?” it was a rather innocent ask, or at least, Jace considered it to be that way. With a lingering guilt that weighed constantly on him, offering his apologies felt very little with everything he actually owed you, after all the things you had done for him.

The heir nibbled on his lower lip for a moment, allowing himself to properly process in words each and every single little thing he had to thank you, and apologise for. “For many things, I dare to say.” he scoffed in a teasing way, provoking a frowny grin to grow upon your lips, as you kept delicately fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in a discreet manner. “One of the things I would like to apologise for the most, is for... Not simply not visiting you, and our baby son due to my duties as heir— but for having given you a cold shoulder all this time, in a way.”

Your expressions began softening, not uttering a single word to allow him to continue. The looks on your face were almost puzzling to him, as it contained several emotions— all mostly ranging from surprise, to a... relieved one. But mostly, a shyly relieved look began expressing itself all across your features. “I never expressed to you my admiration for your strength and courage. Much less, I have given you my gratitude for marrying me and giving me an heir, all in order to gain new allies amidst war.”

“You have done everything by yourself. Moved to Dragonstone alone, birthed alone, and moved to the Red Keep after the peace treaty all by yourself, with our boy. I often scorn myself for not having done the slightest effort of accompanying you.” it was true. All this time, you had grown to be used only to the presence of your little child offering you solace, and company.

Hearing his words shed a light of understanding to the implicances of war when it came to the perspective— after all, being heir to the Throne is not easy at all, much less when your birthright is usurped. But for Jace, being an heir occupied with his duties, before and after war, was no excuse to give offer you a piece of his genuine love and admiration. If anything, he resented himself for not having visited you earlier.

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about you, or haven’t grown any more preoccupied. And I’m sorry for not having shown it earlier, when I should have. Your efforts have never passed unnoticed.”

A gentle sigh spurred from you, nibbling shyly on your lower lip, with your gaze meekly darting towards the ground. Hearing such statement coming from him felt almost surreal, considering each moment you spent alone, wondering to yourself if your husband felt mere disdain towards you after breaking off his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. You had to process the moment for several seconds, leaving a few seconds of silence to hang in the air until you gave your response, but you couldn’t deny that a part of you was satisfied to know his true thoughts about you.

“I would’ve thought you... Resented me for breaking off your betrothal, and occupying the place of Lady Baela.” you muttered timidly, maintaining your eyes gazing at the floor. His eyes widened faintly in surprise. Gods, your words didn’t help with the intensely growing guilt-feelings he suffered, almost as if your statement sharply stabbed him in the heart— how could he ever resent you?

You had nothing to do with anything. You simply did your required duties, what was asked of you.

Jace stood silent for a moment, “How could I ever resent you?” he began, a certain desperation, and disbelief, vibrating on his tone upon hearing your statement. It almost shattered him, knowing you thought that— and all because his mind was consumed in war strategies and responsibilities as heir. The tip of his index finger placed itself on your underchin, delicately — yet firmly — lifting your face so you would stare at each other.

His dark coffee eyes stared profoundly into your own, “I could never resent you for something that was not your choice, much less after all the efforts you did.” you swore you could feel a knot beginning to form on your throat, from both the overwhelming sensation of having thought all this time that Jacaerys disdained you, and from content. “The idea of breaking off my betrothal to Lady Baela and become used to your presence for alliances might have been complicated initially, but I could never resent you for it.”

“Quite the contrary, I have grown to love and silently admire you.” both his hands had gone to cup your cheeks affectionately, taking the moments of quietness to admire every inch of your features. That was, before his arms rapidly embraced themselves around you, tightly wrapping you into a hug. One of his hands went to the back of your head, interwining his fingers in between your hair, as his other hand softly moved up and down, caressing your back; nuzzling the tip of his nose against your hair in a discreet manner— finding comfort in your sweet scent.

For a moment, you stood there, being firmly hugged by Jace, as you leisurely processed the — quite abrupt — situation. Your eyes had widened slightly in surprise, only to feel your body relaxing a few seconds after the eldest Velaryon held you in the warmth of his arms, slowly giving into the embrace. Your arms delicately wrapped themselves around his own body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. A wide range of emotions came afloat at the moment, but all you could feel, was a gleeful sensation of relief.

What you had so longed for, had been finally given in your life— to seek and find comfort in your husband.

“All I can only do, is constantly cherish the lucky fact of your existence, I have never felt a single ounce of resentment, or hatred.” he muttered, continuing to nuzzle his nose against your hair in a loving manner, before firmly pressing his lips against your temple for several seconds. “I hope you can forgive me, and know that I’ll be visiting and spending time with both of you more often— because I adore you, immensely.”

The ghost of a soft, shy grin began growing on the corner of your lips. You knew everything would be alright, from now on— it would all be less dreadful, and less lonely, knowing that your husband would now be accompanying you in a proper manner.

The Gods did have a strange way of treating you, but all for an ultimate good.

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#彡 ꒰ ✒ amira writes ; jacaerys velaryon.── ꒱#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #hotd imagine

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solxamber · 5 days ago

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I loved the platonic Malleus helps Yuu get Idia fic and I was wondering if you could so something similar with Cater or Trey or Vil or Leona or Floyd? You can choose, anything like that would be amazing my liege.

you asked and i answered, i love this concept so much

Fae Courtship 101: Romance for Dummies || Floyd Leech

In your desperation to confess to Floyd, you made the grave mistake of recruiting Malleus for help—now the only thing you’re courting is death.

For reasons beyond mortal comprehension—beyond your own comprehension—you have fallen for Floyd Leech.

Floyd. Leech.

The man who treats personal space like a suggestion, bites people for fun, and once chased a first-year across campus while laughing like a slasher villain because he was “bored.”

The man who once tried to sell you to Azul in exchange for a really nice hat. The man who could, at any given moment, be contemplating something as simple as “what’s for lunch” or something as horrifyingly chaotic as “what if I threw the prefect off the third-floor balcony to see how they bounce?”

It’s a bad idea. Objectively, scientifically, in every single way, this is a mistake.

Grim and Deuce have been holding interventions. The ghosts of Ramshackle have been looking at you like they’re already preparing to welcome you into their ranks. You're rapidly losing the moral high ground in any discussion about Ace’s bad life choices.

But the heart wants what it wants. And unfortunately, yours wants to make terrible decisions.

Which brings you here, pacing alongside Malleus Draconia, crown prince of Briar Valley, king of ominous nighttime strolls, and your designated therapist for the evening.

“I just—I don’t get it, Malleus!” you wail, gesturing wildly as you stomp through the moonlit campus. “I should like normal people! People who don’t consider attempted murder to be a love language! I should have instincts!”

Malleus hums in thought. “Hm. Concerning.”

“Exactly!” You throw your hands up. “I should be running in the opposite direction! Instead, I’m over here, wondering if he’d bite me gently if I asked nicely!”

Malleus stops walking.

You stop too, looking over to see him gazing at you with a carefully neutral expression. There’s a brief silence. A beat. And then, slowly—gravely—he nods.

“Understood.”

You blink. “...Huh?”

He turns to you with the air of a man who has just accepted a sacred duty. “You have chosen a perilous path, Child of Man.”

You stare. “I—??"

“But fear not,” he continues, raising a hand to his chest in solemn promise. “I shall help you attain your romance.”

Silence.

A breeze rolls through the courtyard. A crow caws in the distance. Somewhere, Grim is experiencing a deep sense of foreboding.

“…You’re going to what?”

Malleus nods again, expression determined. “Leave it to me.”

You suddenly have so many regrets.

Grim looks at you the way a doctor looks at a patient about to flatline. Gravely. With pity. With deep concern for the irreversible damage.

"Okay, listen hench-human, I’ve let a lot of things slide, but this? This I gotta ask—do you hate life that much?"

You blink at him. "What?"

Grim waves his little paws dramatically. "First, you fall for Floyd of all people. That’s already a death wish. And now, you’re actually listening to Malleus for dating advice? What’s next? You gonna ask Kalim for tips on financial responsibility?!"

You open your mouth. Close it. You… okay, you really have no defense. But before you can say anything—

There’s a knock at the door.

And you don’t even have to guess who it is.

You open it to find Malleus standing there, his expression set in earnest determination. In his hands is a book that looks older than your grandmother. The kind of ancient tome that looks like it holds dark secrets, forbidden spells, possibly even a recipe for soup made from human souls.

Standing right next to him, grinning like a goblin, is Lilia.

You feel your soul leave your body.

"Ah, Child of Man," Malleus intones. "I have found it. The ultimate guide to fae courtship rituals. You shall use these techniques to win the heart of your eel."

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Lilia cackles. "Do you know how long it's been since I’ve seen these methods in action? The devastation! The absolute carnage!"

You stare at them. You stare into the abyss. The abyss grins back.

Grim looks at you, his face a perfect picture of someone watching a loved one make the worst life decisions in real time.

"You’re really doin’ this, huh?"

…You sigh. "Yeah. I’m really doing this."

You are simply minding your own business, walking to class like a normal person, when you spot Floyd approaching from the other end of the hallway.

As always, you smile at him, because you have fully accepted your fate as a fool with horrible taste in men. You expect him to either grin back or threaten to suplex you for fun—classic Floyd things.

What you do not expect is the sudden sensation of a phantom hand shoving you forward.

And just like that, gravity wins.

You crash into Floyd with all the grace of a drunk goose, smacking into his chest with enough force to send both of you stumbling. Floyd barely moves (because he is built like a problem), but you rebound like a cartoon character, nearly falling over before his hands land heavily on your shoulders.

For a brief, dizzying moment, you stare at him.

Then, slowly, your brain remembers what just happened, and you whip around—

Only to see Malleus standing at the end of the hallway, looking extremely pleased with himself.

He gives you a smug, regal nod.

He is also holding a book titled "How to Romance for Dummies."

You are going to throw hands with a literal prince.

Before you can implode, Floyd’s grip on your shoulders tightens. You turn back to him, only to find him looking entirely too displeased about being your impromptu landing pad.

“Shriiiimpy,” he drawls, squinting at you like a judge in a courtroom drama. “What’s up with that, huh? Tryna tackle me first thing in the morning?”

“I—I tripped!” you stammer, trying to collect the shreds of your dignity. “I didn’t mean to crash into you, I swear!”

Floyd hums, unconvinced. Then, after a beat of consideration, he shrugs.

“Aaah, whatever.” His fingers dig just slightly into your shoulders, a slow grin stretching across his face. “You still ran into me, soooo… you owe me.”

You blink. “Wait. Owe you?”

“Mhm!” His grin widens, teeth sharp. “Now ya gotta hang out with me today.”

You blink again. Slowly. You could argue, but you have a sneaking suspicion that it won’t get you anywhere, and honestly? Maybe this is exactly the opening you need.

Maybe… Malleus isn’t that bad at this.

You take that last thought back immediately.

Because not even a day after that whole hallway fiasco, Malleus finds you again, pulls you aside with all the gravitas of an ancient ruler about to bestow divine wisdom, and insists that, in order to properly court Floyd, you must—

Compliment Floyd’s strength three times. At first, you thought, okay, easy enough, I can just tell him he’s strong and call it a day. But then—THEN—Malleus, in his infinite wisdom, handed you a quill and parchment and declared, “It must be in verse. Poetry carries the weight of true devotion.”

And now, here you are.

Standing in front of Floyd Leech. Holding a piece of paper with the most cringe-inducing attempt at poetry you've ever written in your life.

Floyd, to his credit, was already giggling the moment you approached with a look of sheer suffering. But when you clear your throat and attempt to actually read the thing—

"Oh mighty Floyd, with hands so bold—"

He just. Loses it.

Absolutely wheezing, doubling over, practically using you as a support beam to keep himself upright.

You glare at him and continue, determined to power through:

"A force unmatched, a tale retold—"

Floyd: "PFT—!!!"

He’s straight-up crying at this point. Tears. You swear you hear Jade laugh somewhere in the distance.

You don’t even make it to the third compliment. You just turn on your heel and walk away before your soul crumples in on itself like a dying star.

Malleus, watching from afar, sighs in clear disappointment. “You lack dedication,” he murmurs, shaking his head like an elder watching the youth fail at life.

You absolutely regret everything.

You don't know why you keep letting Malleus give you advice. Actually, no—that's a lie. You do know. It's because the second he heard you liked Floyd, his eyes lit up like he’d just been given a personal quest by the divine forces of romance, and now he refuses to rest until your love is secured.

Unfortunately, this means you are currently locked in yet another horrendous discussion about fae courting rituals.

"Scent-marking is a vital step in courtship," Malleus declares with the kind of grim authority that should be reserved for battlefields, not this. "He must recognize you as his."

You blink at him. "Oh, like giving him my hoodie or something?" That’s normal. That’s doable. That’s the kind of thing people do when they like each other, right? You’ve seen couples swap sweaters before. Maybe Malleus is finally onto something not-insane.

Malleus shakes his head gravely. "No. You must present him with something you have personally scented. Ideally, by rolling upon it."

Silence.

Rolling upon it.

You stare at him. He stares back. Completely serious.

You try to process what he’s just suggested. What he has just, with full sincerity, told you to do.

"Malleus."

"Yes?"

"You want me to roll around on an object like a dog and then give it to Floyd."

"Precisely."

You briefly consider just walking into the ocean.

It takes twenty full minutes to talk him down from this absolute lunacy and convince him that simply giving Floyd a sweater you’ve worn will do the job just fine. He looks at you the way a disappointed coach looks at a failing athlete.

"If you are not dedicated to the craft," he mutters, "you cannot expect great results."

You pretend you don’t hear him.

Fast forward to the next day, and you are sitting in class next to Floyd, who is draped over his desk in a deep and powerful boredom coma.

You pull out the sweater and awkwardly nudge it toward him.

"Here."

Floyd immediately perks up. Dangerously interested. He tilts his head, peering at the sweater like you’ve just handed him a rare treasure.

"Eh? What's this?"

"It's mine. You can have it," you say, trying to play it cool, despite the fact that your entire soul is trying to flee your body from embarrassment.

Floyd picks up the sweater and—without hesitation—presses his face into it.

You almost die. Right then and there. Instant expiration.

He leans back in his chair, grinning way too wide. "Heheh~ You smell nice, shrimpy~"

You barely manage to hold onto your composure. You are barely hanging on.

Malleus, watching from the hallway, narrows his eyes and mutters, "It is not the worst effort... but it lacks the impact of true commitment."

You ignore him. You ignore everything. You're just grateful that—for once—this wasn’t completely unhinged, and that Floyd somehow seems to like it.

"Nothing says romance like a meal made with your own two hands!" Lilia declares, slamming an ancient, definitely cursed cookbook onto the table.

You blink down at it. The title is in some language that makes your vision swim just looking at it. The edges are charred, the pages stained with substances you’re 70% sure are not food-safe, and Malleus—Malleus Draconia himself, looks a little unsure.

That should have been your first hint.

But you? A fool. An idiot. A desperate, love-struck buffoon? You press forward.

“Alright,” you sigh, rubbing your temples, already regretting this. “What ingredients do I need?”

Lilia beams, flipping to a page that looks like it came from an alchemist’s horror novel.

"Let's see! We’ll need:"

• Moonshade Truffle,

• A pinch of Sablethorn Dust,

• Three drops of Evernight Basilisk Extract,

• Seven Tears of a Joyful Banshee,

• And a Love-Smitten Fire Spirit’s Breath!

…

You stare.

"Lilia."

"Yes, beastie?"

"These sound like potion ingredients."

"Oh-ho!" Lilia chuckles, waving a hand. "You humans always get so caught up in technicalities. But what is cooking if not a kind of magic?"

…No. No, this is actual magic. You are not making a love potion, but this sure as hell sounds like one.

But, like the fool you are, you go along with it. You spend far too much money (your entire savings) at Azul’s Most Definitely Not a Scam Emporium for all of these ridiculous ingredients. He knows you’re up to something dumb. He does not care. He simply profits.

And now, here you are. In the Ramshackle kitchen. Grim watches from a safe distance behind a chair. Malleus stands off to the side with his arms crossed, looking like he is rethinking his life choices. And Lilia, that menace, is watching you mix the ingredients like a proud mentor.

Everything is going fine. Suspiciously fine.

And then—

"Alright, time to bake it!" Lilia claps his hands. "It says here to bake at 350 for 20 minutes!"

You nod. This is reasonable.

"However!" He flips the page. "In the olden days, we used a slightly different method."

Malleus frowns. Your stomach drops.

"Instead of 350 for 20 minutes…" Lilia hums. "It says here—750 for 10!"

…

"What."

"Don’t be shy! Give it a try!" Lilia gestures for you to do it.

Malleus shifts, looking like he wants to intervene. Grim is slowly backing out of the room. You ignore all of this.

Because you are an idiot.

You turn the oven to 750. You shove the pan inside. You watch in real-time as your dignity burns.

The oven makes a sound ovens should not make.

Something explodes. The smell is indescribable.

When you pull the pan out, it is a pile of pure, blackened charcoal.

You are horrified. Malleus looks concerned. Grim looks betrayed.

"Are ya tryin’ to kill me, Henchhuman?!" Grim yells. "I thought we were friends!"

But Lilia? Lilia is nodding approvingly.

"Ah," he sighs, nostalgic. "Just like how I remember it."

…This man should not be allowed in kitchens.

But you, an absolute buffoon, take the charred remains of your so-called courtship offering and bring it to Floyd anyway.

You find him in the cafeteria, dump the plate in front of him, and sit down. Defeated.

Floyd stares. Pokes it with a finger.

And then, he looks at you.

With pity.

"Shrimpy." His voice is gentle. You feel a chill of fear. "You goin' through hard times or somethin'?"

…

You die inside.

Your cooking was so bad that Floyd Leech—FLOYD LEECH—was feeling sympathy for you.

You have never known such shame.

You sit there, staring into the distance like a soldier who’s seen too much. A philosopher pondering the futility of existence. A person who has scent-marked a sweater and written poetry at the behest of a fae prince who thinks you’re simply not dedicated enough to the craft of love.

You are contemplating life, death, and the many, many decisions that have led you here.

And then, Jade sits beside you.

You don’t even flinch. You should. You should be wary. You should immediately launch yourself into the bushes and prepare to be interrogated in some terrifying eel version of psychological warfare. But you don’t. Because you have nothing left.

So you just turn your head slowly, look at him with the dull, hollow eyes of someone who’s really going through it.

Jade looks positively delighted.

"My, my," he says, in that syrupy, knowing voice of his. "What could possibly put you in such a state?"

You inhale. Exhale. Consider your options. Death is looking really attractive.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

Jade hums, obviously entertained, but then—then—he decides to make it worse.

"You know," he muses, "even Floyd has started to get concerned."

You blink.

"…Huh?"

"Oh, yes," he says, resting his chin on his hand, enjoying every second of this. "Between the odd gifts, the unusual behavior, and your general aura of suffering, even he has begun to notice. Which means you are being particularly obvious, because he rarely pays attention to anything that isn't entertaining."

You don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed.

"What’s your point?" you mutter.

Jade smiles like a predator about to land a final, devastating strike.

"You should simply tell him. Because this…?" He gestures vaguely at your soul-deep despair. "This is rather pitiful."

You stare.

You process.

And, somewhere in the depths of your heart, you realize he’s right.

You are in shambles.

Like, properly, horrifically, soul-crushingly in shambles. You’ve been through so much. You've spent weeks engaging in increasingly deranged behavior at the behest of a well-meaning yet hopelessly out-of-touch fae prince. You've endured ritual poetry readings, scent-marking disasters, and a culinary war crime that left you emotionally and financially bankrupt.

And now, standing in front of Floyd Leech—the very cause of your descent into insanity—you finally snap.

"I LIKE YOU!" you blurt, voice cracking like a cheap mirror. "I LIKE YOU AND I'VE BEEN ACTING LIKE A LUNATIC BECAUSE MALLEUS SAID I HAD TO FOLLOW FAE COURTSHIP RITUALS AND I—" your voice hiccups, borderline hysterical, "—I THINK I LOST A PIECE OF MY SOUL WHEN I TRIED TO BAKE THAT DAMN CAKE BUT IT'S FINE, BECAUSE APPARENTLY THAT'S JUST WHAT LOVE IS??? AND I DID IT ALL FOR YOU, FLOYD, BECAUSE I AM A DUMB IDIOT WHO LIKES YOU FOR SOME REASON."

You gasp for air, because this has been a lot.

And Floyd?

Floyd is laughing.

Not just a chuckle, either. No, this menace of a man is bent over, hands on his knees, actually wheezing with mirth as if you’ve just performed the comedy routine of the century. His shoulders shake. His teeth glint in the light. He looks absolutely delighted.

And you? You just stand there, a broken, hollow shell of a human being.

"You should’ve just told me, Shrimpy~!" he cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. "I like you too, y’know?"

...

There’s a moment of silence as your poor, battered brain struggles to process this information.

"WHAT."

Floyd grins, like you haven’t just endured weeks of psychological torment at the hands of a dragon prince. "I mean, you’re fun! You make me laugh, and I like squeezin’ ya. ‘Course I like ya!"

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, he lunges forward and grabs you in a hug so tight that your ribs beg for mercy. You are crushed, consumed, engulfed in the sheer force of his affection. Your spine may never recover, but at this point, what’s another injury to your dignity?

And honestly? You don’t care.

Because he likes you.

Floyd likes you back.

Which means—you realize, tears pricking your eyes in relief—you never have to perform another insane fae courtship ritual again.

No more humiliating poetry. No more dubious scent-marking. No more playing Russian roulette with your digestive system in the name of romance. You did it. You won.

And then Floyd leans down, cups your face, and kisses you.

It's a little rough, a little overwhelming, but you melt into it anyway, because Sevens, you earned this.

Somewhere in the distance, Malleus Draconia watches from the shadows.

Arms crossed, nodding sagely, he looks upon his greatest success.

"My expert techniques," he murmurs, pride swelling in his voice, "have secured my child of man their eel."

Behind him, Lilia wipes an imaginary tear.

"Beautiful," he sighs.

Masterlist

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech x you #floyd #floyd leech #platonic malleus draconia x reader #platonic malleus x reader #platonic malleus #malleus x reader

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lustlovehart · 1 month ago

Text

The Water You Drown

Pairing: Shadow! Azul Ashengrotto x Reader x Jade Leech

Summary: Your beloved husband has died, leaving you to be wedded to his friend due to a suspicious contract. No amount of insults seems to deter Jade from wiggling his affections into your every waking moment. In your grief, you miss Azul, but it seems his shadow misses you even more, doing whatever it takes to make you drown with him. [9k words]

Inspired by : @merakiui Shadow Azul & Morros fic!

Warnings: [ Yandere ], Kissing, Implied imprisonment, Contractual marriages, Regency Era, Tentacles, Harm to reader, Violent threats (To Jade), GN!Reader but there are references to pregnancy, All characters in their mid 20’s, Accusations of cheating, Mentions of nsfw, Desperate Reader, Unhealthy behaviors, Made up monster, Overblot Azul, Suggestive at the end, Some angst

You stand atop your once-alive husband, the pristine stone darkening with each raindrop that lands on its surface. Leaning down, your fingers gently trace over the letters with adoration, a sense of grief washing over you.

The rain is cold, but the feeling of mourning has always been even colder.

When you finish grazing the engravement, you draw a heart with your fingertip.

In loving Memory, Azul Ashengrotto, Beloved husband and friend

You slowly stand to your full height, dusting off dirt from your lap, you let the rain hit you, each droplet increasing in strength. Yet, you don’t have the will in you to cover yourself, deeply believing, or rather… hoping, that this rain is Azuls spirit reaching out to you from beyond the grave.

A gentle smile grazes your lips, yes, this must be him. He always insisted you visit the sea with him. You never did agree though, having duties to tend to day in and day out. But, you close your eyes, imagining each assault on your skin to be sea water splashing you.

This visage is broken when the rain suddenly pauses, a gentle hand finding its place on your shoulder. Gentle, yet you can’t help but find this man's touch akin to a rose’s thorn.

“It’s cold, perhaps you should find solace in our house, new Leech?” you don’t open your eyes, continuing to bask in the sound of hushed splashes. You allow for Jade's suggestion to go unanswered, your newly found fiance only laughing at the silence.

A fiance you never wished for. You were thrust into his possession due to Azuls will, a letter stating his last wish to be his right hand taking his place as your lover.

Why would he ever wish for such a thing? You thought he loved you, lavishing you in desires so sought over just to make you happy… Why would he ever promise you to such a… Deceitful man?

Yet, you can’t argue. The contract was composed entirely of Azuls writing, his signature only further instilling this truth.

“No, I should like to stay.” you finally peek through your eyelids, glancing at Jade before turning to his gloved limb, firmly swiping him off you, dusting the area off as if a pest had been there. But that’s not too far from the truth, is it?

“Is that so? But, it is cold. You will garner illness.”

“I said no, forgive me my lord but must you stay here? I wish for mourning towards my husband.”

“Dear, he is not your husband, I am. Surely,” he pauses, another one of his gratingly deep chuckles wafting the clean air, “You cannot be promised to a dead man.”

“He is not dead.” He is, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of giving up your beloved husband.

“I assure you, any man buried in the ground Is considered dead.” Jade continues, his smiling seeming ever continuous like his muscles have contracted to forever hold their shape.

“Ah, so you will be dead very soon, how wondrous!” you promised since Azuls death you would never smile for another man, but promises aren’t as binding as curses are they?

“If it is you who puts me under, I believe I’ll die a happy man.”

“… You have sullied this moment.”

“Don’t worry, I shall love you forevermore, even if you may have been ruined by another man.” his smile still doesn’t falter. If you could, you would jump at the chance to cut up his pretty face.

Alas, such wants can never be fulfilled because if it is true Azul wished for you to be with his… Right-hand man (Though you’re not too sure as Azul would complain about his unique persona day in and out) then… you should wish to be with Jade as well.

Because you love Azul. Ever since you were arranged to marry him. Well, at least you think that’s the case.

You reply to his retort with but a sigh, turning back to look solemnly at the words etched into stone, a cruel reminder of the man you once had.

Jade sticks his arm out, signaling you to interlock yours with his own, but this act is met with a huff. Your shoes click against the pavement as you speed away, uncaring for the rain that falls into your eyes, the liquid only further covering the tears you’ve shed.

It has only been a few months, but you can tell it will feel like centuries.

You endlessly toss and turn in the sheets of your bed, the unnerving hand of the slimy man… no eel. He must be one with how slimy he is curling around your waist. He’s pulling you in with a strength so ironclad you can’t pull away.

It’s unfortunate when you get home from the cemetery, the separate bed you had arranged in a room far far away from Jades, had been mysteriously tossed away. Jade claims a peg must’ve been lost, as when he came home the mattress had been tilted.

It’s a lie, you checked your bedding the morning of and no such thing existed.

”Am I some sort of commodity? Why won’t this man unhand me...?!” You’re sure this leech is awake, you haven’t been whispering any of your words.

You stop fighting his grasp, only loosely relaxing in his hold, yet not at all. Your eyes are fixated on one object, and one object alone.

A shell necklace made of pure gold.

Its light glimmers in the dark, a stark contrast to the everlasting black you find yourself in.

Soft snores finally begin to resonate through your room, a signal to Jade's final slumber. But, you’ve lost all will to escape him, you’re too tired and grieved to do such a thing. It’s only when you blink do you realize you still have tears left to cry.

“Azul…” Your words are hushed, so much so not even a mouse could hear your pleas. “Why must you have gone to sea… Was I not equal to the worth of land you bought?” your fingers reach up to wipe your tears, before pausing.

The necklace is no longer there.

The shock must’ve been the reason you needed to break free from Jade, as the sight immediately has you breaking his arms apart with a newfound determination.

It’s improper to bed out of bed with your sleepwear only, but you do not care, at this point, you’d much be naked than without that necklace.

“Are you looking for something? I believe I had all of Azuls stuff moved to a storage building of mine.” What? How would he even know you were looking for…? It doesn’t matter.

“No, I lost… Never mind go back to sleep you rake.”

“I believe I am plenty married.” He leans up from the bed, the blanket falling off and revealing his bare torso.

“Is that so? I feel horrible for your spouse.”

“Self-pity isn’t good for one’s health.” You scoff at his words before lighting a candle, not daring to answer his obvious jabs at your conscience. You leave the room without a sound, wandering the halls of the newfound house you find yourself in.

Each wall looks the same, obnoxiously elegant. At this rate, you’ll never find the whereabouts of that—

A quick shadow passes your peripherals, a gust of wind blowing your nightwear into the air, and in turn, the light of your candle.

“Who’s there? If it’s you, Floyd, I already told you I don’t want to wed you, and neither did I wish to be wedded to Jade!” No answer, only the sound of slimy liquid splashing.

Slimy liquids?

You turn the corner quickly, not even bracing yourself for whatever possible sight could appear. Yet, your lack of awareness is lucked out, all that’s left is a golden coin, one part of Azul's special collection. There was nothing special about it however, if anything, it is one of the few antiques that are essentially worthless.

But he found riches in the sole pence simply because you picked it up, claiming it to be luck.

You lean down with your fingers, picking the coin up with a certain care. It is still as pretty as the day you found it.

“Mine.” The voice immediately makes your shoulders tense, not daring to look back at its owner. The voice is aquatic, a certain echo sounding like the creature is underwater.

Should you run? Do you run? All these suggestions that should be commands run rampant through your mind, but the feeling of a wet tentacle wrapping its suction cups around your waist halts all ideas.

“Mine. You have something that is mine.” The coin, it must be the coin. You don’t turn your head, keeping your eyes pinned on the imaginary target on your floors. You lift your hand, the pence wedged between your fingers.

“Here, it’s…” you realize something. This piece… Your necklace is gone, who knows where it’s gone? This antique, you must keep it. “Not yours.”

“I wasn’t talking about the coin,” The voice that comes out this time is not nearly as echoed, the sound coming out the clearest it’s ever been. “Angelfish.”

It can’t… not it’s not…! But what if it…?

You look down at the dark shadow matter that holds your waist, a second one coming to wrap around your thighs underneath your nightwear. No… your Azul was never a shadow…!

“My husband was… is human, you can not be him.” The tentacles increase their grip on your skin.

“Don’t say such mean things dear, you’ll hurt my feelings.” It’s only when the feeling of hair tickling your face, and a pair of real hands wrap around your waist in tandem with the tentacles, do you smell something so familiar.

Sea salt.

Your head finally turns around, your eyes making contact with the man you’ve missed so much.

“Azul.” He looks different, no… He is different. There are faint traces of purple on his transparent body. Several tentacles flail about behind him, all seeming to have a mind of their own. But the most noticeable thing is his change in size, he’s practically three times bigger than before.

Yet, you think it’s Azul.

“My, is my charm still as captivating as it was when we wedded?” it takes you a while to register the fact you're feet are no longer touching the ground, your bottom half cold and wet as you sit on his thick tendrils. “I hope so, you’re still just as incomparable.”

You feel yourself struggle in balance with the continuous moving of his muscles, your hands finding refuge on his neck as you hug him tightly, the fear of falling being your sole reason.

“Azul, I do not wish to perish so soon…! Please… please put me down…!”

“So you can return to your new half?” there’s a certain firmness in his voice when he replies, a tone that was previously not there. “Have you moved on so quickly? I am still here and alive if you can’t see.” those words… Does this false image of Azul believe you to be baggage?

“Pardon? I know not what you speak. I have never exchanged whispers with that… that…! Conniving eel!”

“Calm down dear, I know that. You would never.”

“Yes, I would never.” you parrot. But, there’s a certain ache that is realized inside you, taking the form of an even bigger pain when you utter the words you say. “But, I must return soon.”

“You said you wouldn’t.”

“I never said that.” It’s the unfortunate truth, to have to tuck yourself back into the bedside of a man you don’t love. It makes you wonder though, why did he jump to marrying you?

You’re not broke, if you were, your marriage to Azul would’ve never come to be. But, you’re not rich either. If rumors you’ve heard hold truth, Jade was meant to marry someone with far greater wealth than you.

So why…?

“I see,” Azul utters with hushed breath. You sigh with relief, ready to thank him with the happiest of smiles.

“Thank you. Do not worry I shall return Azul—“

“No.”

…

Huh?

Transparent tendrils grow behind him, swiftly making their way towards your face. The suction cups gently graze your cheek before pulling away, confusion evident on your face. His face is dark, not from the shadows that shroud him, the expression on his face.

A blissful smile.

The last thing you feel is the hardwood against your head.

The lone duke reaches to his side, his hands groggily searching for the body of his dearly, though you wouldn’t agree, beloved. His eyes peek open when there’s nothing to grasp.

He wakes to an empty bedside, but he’s more so bothered by the lack of a warm body in his arms. Have you not returned from your midnight excursion? How interesting, he recalls a distant (not at all distant, in truth, only yesterday) memory of your preference to sleep as much as possible.

“Why must you wake me so early? I prefer staying in slumber to never see your horribly handsome face.”

“Oh? You think me handsome?”

“Unfortunately, but it’s all the better when I smuggle that pretty accessory with a pillow.”

“My my, please wait till we have an heir in you.”

“… I despise how you turn my acts of violence into such crude subjects.”

He upturns from the bed, groggily blinking with exhaustion only you’ve been present to witness. It’s one of the few moments he’s unguarded and not accompanied by a cunning smile.

He looks out the window and realizes, it’s still night, but the coming of day emerges with the lightening blue sky. He can’t help but wonder, where are you?

You could be downstairs, preparing food for yourself (You never did enjoy tasking his servants despite their willingness to assist you.), or maybe you’ve taken a stroll in his gardens. No, that’s not it… you claim his mushrooms to be a disturbing sight (He knows you’re only saying that to attack his heart. He sees you secretly tending to the fungi when he does not have the chance.).

Or perhaps you’ve run away. He certainly can’t have that.

He throws the covers off, walking to his closet, and allowing his naked torso to be covered with a dress shirt. He opens his door, a vigor in his lighting. This determination extinguishes when he spots you on the floor, your nightwear disheveled with circular bruises imprinted on your skin.

His lithe frame slows him to reach you in a few steps, scooping your unconscious body into his arms effortlessly. A low whisper sounds from behind him, threatening yet the way the voice trails is akin to a corrupt spirit.

“Jade… You…” He turns, his mismatched eyes locking with the vicinity he heard it from. But there’s nothing to be seen, only a pathetically desolate corner of the room.

At least, that’s what he’ll tell you. He knows he won’t ever mention to you the dark shadow that glares at him from a corner before disappearing.

He can’t help but feel that envied voice sounding much too familiar to his late friend.

It’s been a week since you last saw the shadow that calls itself your Azul.

You’re conflicted on whether he’s telling the truth and he is indeed your late husband who’s come from beyond the grave. He has the coin he’s always treasured. It’s the same one, down to the tiny scratches on its surface.

You know it’s not just your thoughts playing tricks on you either, the dark marks on your thighs and arms are proof enough.

You’re not sure when Jade found you, but you’re sure it’s when he found you, that “Azul” had disappeared. Is he perhaps a creature only you can see? No matter how much you ask Jade about what he saw, he refuses to divulge any details to you.

Goodness, you’ve even stooped to bargaining and begging! Entirely unbefit to someone in your position.

“Please. You must. I beg of you.”

“Your pleas are far sweeter than any wine I’ve tasted.” You wince at his words, stressing your face to not show any signs of distaste.

“… I will willingly stroll the town with you.”

“I see. I agree to your terms.” For once, and the only time, you smile at Jade, taking his hands in yours and lifting them to your cheek with the countenance of a true lover rather than an arranged one.

“So what do you know from the night of? Did you witness it? Hear it? You must tell me!”

“I know nothing. There was only a bug.” You roughly throw his hands away from your body, brushing him off like a leech.

“I wish to be married to the man who was courting me before you. Can I? It must not be too late.” Riddle, a bright suitor. He was kind to you. You like him much more than this man.

“Ah, Rosehearts, a fine choice. Unfortunately, you’re not wealthy enough for his mother, and married, twice.” You slouch back in your chair, a form utterly lacking in grace. All the servants will be sure to whisper of your strained relationship with the Duke.

“At this point, the Leech family will have to use that mad twin of his for an heir, the Floyd mister. Those two will never consummate…”

A sudden clatter of plates catches both of your focus, your heads turning in unison to look at the shattered porcelain on the ground. You’re unsure if Jade catches it, but the faint trace of shadow tells you exactly who caused the ruckus.

“You’re unbearable countenance has left me ill. I’m taking my leave.” For once, Jade doesn’t reply to you with a witty comeback. This shift makes you wonder if you should be more worried about that rather than “Azul”, but you refrain from asking.

You sneak away from Jade's grasp in the night, closing the door with a silence that seems impossible. The lights are the only illumination besides the moon's rays.

“Azul? Are you here? I’m… not mad about last time. Please come out to me.”

Silence.

You clasp your hands, sitting on the cold flooring of the house, a shiver going down your spine. A makeshift protest it is, you will sit here for hours until this thing reveals itself to you.

“You never liked it when I slept. So, I shall dream right here” You feel foolish for this display. Not even so much as a tentacle reaches out to you. Are you doing this for nothing? Is there no point—

A sudden tendril emerges from the wall behind you, finding its place on your waist before the rest of them takes hold of other parts of your body. Your weight is once again lifted in the air, cradled in a heap of muscle.

“Shall I help you wake?”

So his words are lies. This is not the Azul you know and love. Even in moments where he struggled to pass into dreams, he always made an effort to lull you to bed.

…

“Azul… It’s okay. The servants are sleeping, we shouldn't disturb them.” You rub your heavy eyes, and despite their weight, they just can’t allow you to sleep peacefully, even in the comfort of your mattress. You lean up, ready to leave the bed.

“Then I’ll serve you tonight.” your husband's voice is soft as if he isn't nearly as tired as you. No… he’s even more exhausted. He can hide it but you’ve engraved his being into your soul. Azul follows in your wake, the blanket falling down his form as he leans on his elbows.

Plus, he tends to snack late at night when he can’t sleep. The several tiny empty plates tell you all you need to know.

“That’s unneeded.” you place your hand on his chest, tenderly laying him back onto the bedding.

“Most needed.” he grabs your hand and sits back up again. “Seeing you well is a comfort. You want me to sleep as well right? I’ll only do so if you fall first.” truly… your husband is much too clingy.

…

Despite the hue of night outside your window, the harsh hail that drops from the sky reminds you of your entrapment. If you could leave this beast, would you even be able to leave this house?

This version of Azul has closed the distance between you two, his glowing cerulean eyes staring deep into yours. You’d confuse the hand that cups your cheek for Azuls if it wasn’t so cold.

“I was kidding angelfish, I could never allow you to harm yourself in such a way.” You’re able to control your face despite the shock. So then is he your Azul or not? It’s too late when you finally look to the side. Grotesque tentacles surround you from all sides, essentially trapping you to the floor.

But the thought of Azul distracts you from the impending danger. You should care, you really should in the scenario this isn’t your husband. But the tiny sliver of hope that emerges feeds into your delusions.

“Don’t cry.” You didn’t know you were. Azul hushes your sniffles, petting your head as he brings you into his chest. “There will be no tears for you to shed when we leave here.” Neither do you know what he speaks of, but you nod, eager to fall into the arms of your husband.

He lifts your head from his body, the lone smile he reserved for you especially, adorning his shadowed lips. The closer you look at it though, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, neither do they look genuine.

But you don’t mind. This is your Azul, it must be. No false intimidation of him could ever care for you with such adoration.

He leans in without your notice, his freezing lips only inches away from yours.

“We will leave this horrible house together.” His grip is tight, but does that matter? The ink that bleeds into your skin in all but a warm embrace.

…

Ink?

You’re about to turn your head down to look at the liquid, but before you can a strong grip holds onto your cheeks, squishing The fat together. Azul's forehead is rested on yours, the smile held for you no longer on his face, but rather the one for his clients. A smug smile of scheming.

“I promised I'd help you wake up—”

The sound of doors slamming open immediately draws his attention. He looks between you and the source of the sound, his face contorted with annoyance. His face quickly leans into yours, ready to enact the once-tender act of love. The sight of a light distracts him, a silent tut leaving him before disappearing into the shadows.

Your breaths are heavy at the release of pressure on your face. Your hands can barely hold up your body weight, they’re practically about to give up on themselves.

“Shrimpy? Whatcha doin’ on the floor.” it's been so long since you’ve seen Floyd, that you almost confused him for Jade, save for the unique manner of speech he has. It stands out among those in proper society. But it doesn’t matter.

You jump up from your place on the floor, hugging him with a swiftness you shouldn’t be so eager to do. But truthfully, if this was Jade you’re sure you would’ve hugged him just as tight, which is why it’s for the best it was Floyd and not him. Anyone but him.

“What? You excited to see me? What do yah say to ditchin’ Jade and kissin’ me stead’ yeah?” his firm arm wraps around you, picking you up with ease to spin you around. It may be night but with him around it must be the lightest it could possibly be. “Is what he would’ve said had he been here.” Your arms immediately fall at the tone shift.

You’ve been deceived, this is Jade.

You pinch his cheek from the vulnerable state he saw you in, a part of yourself you refused to ever bless him with. Even then… it’s hard to get out of his hold, he’s practically trying to merge with your own body.

“Do you take pride in watching me panicked? A very unfit trait for a husband…” you grit your teeth, but he continues to hold you like an ever-so-fawning husband. Even the way he grazes your face with the back of his hand is tender. He must be mocking you.

“No… Perhaps. But I do take pride in watching you live.”

“Then pretend I’m dead.”

“Then, I shall be the prince in the story who kisses you awake from that deep slumber.” You’re reaching to tug at the annoying asymmetric strand of hair on his head, but pause when the sight of cerulean eyes stare back at you from the shadows. The corner of the hall is desolate from the light of Jade's lamp, entirely untouched and untainted by its purity.

You’re about to point out the existence of the fiend to Jade but stop just shy when a familiar sight invades Azuls fingers.

The golden conch necklace. Its sheen glows despite the shadows.

The piece is just as beautiful as the day it was gifted to you. The face behind the jewelry, however, is much different. Rather than jovial at his present like before, a shadow overcasts his face, everything invisible except for his lone glowing irises.

“Is something the matter?” Jade tilts his head, his face ready to turn before you stop him. It’s a disgustingly affectionate act to hold his face in your hands, but it’s a must. “Oh my…”

“Let's go to sleep.”

“Are you ill? This is the first you’ve ever been willing. My…” Jade feigns worry as he rests his hand on your forehead. “Well, it’s only standard for me to care for you.” You swat your hand at him in response, yet an ironclad hold doesn’t set you free from him.

“Don’t test it.” He smiles, and you’re sure he’s about to open his mouth and annoy you. Seconds go by in silence, his large frame sticking his elbow out, pleasantly proving you wrong.

You take a single glance back, the octopus of shadows no longer sat in the lonely corner, only empty space. You hope when you turn around Jade and his jovial countenance will be gone from sight. You’re unfortunately proven—

… Right?

You slowly turn your head, looking in every direction for where your husband could’ve possibly disappeared. To no avail, there’s only air where he once occupied.

“Jade?” Since when did the manor become so cold? Your arms rub your skin, finding a way to save your body heat. The lack of response is only a further panic, he never does shut up. But even then, you’re starting to miss the grating silky voice he has.

You step forward, the floor is cooler than it was just a few moments ago. And… It’s wet too; it’s covered in a layer of seawater, bits of seaweed, and small fish floating in the body of liquid.

“… Azul?” there’s a faint hiccup that echoes through the hall, a sound you’re unfamiliar with. Well, sorta. This tone sounds familiar but you’ve…

It sounds like Azul, but you’ve never heard him cry before. Was he ever capable of that? He was more suave when courting you. Even during your marriage.

You drag your feet through the water, your nightwear wetting itself with each movement. You allow the weeping to guide your way, getting closer and closer to its source.

You were right.

You turn the corner and are greeted by the giant octopus, hunched over in a corner. His tentacles wave the water around, causing waves to form; all of them hitting you back with every attempt you make to get closer.

“Azul…! Whatever are you…?!” Despite the dark cloak of shadow covering his face, his eyes peak between the fingers enveloping his face.

“Do you love Jade now?” The hollow tone in his voice conflicts with the looks in his pupils. Pure envy. You don’t answer his question. But, this is entirely your fault. You’re not silent because it’s the truth. You’re quiet because how could this creature with your husband's face think such a thing?

“Azul… That’s not—…!” You’re not given the choice to retort when the feeling of cold-soaked fingers covers your mouth. Even with the distance he didn’t use those tentacles. Though you’re relieved he didn’t; the way they thrash around in the water tells you if he did, you wouldn’t have the chance to reply to him.

You’re ready to claw your upper half away from him, but pause when the sounds of wheezed laughs leave him. Another thing you don’t remember Azul ever doing.

Just further proof, this thing only has his face. No part of your true husband resides in him.

Or… maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe Azul was always like this.

“Ahaa… Ahh…haa…!” His pupils dilate at the last exhale, pulling you into him with a force that crashes your head into his chest, “Even here you fall for him.” His arms wrap around you, the hug much more tender than the suction cups that curl around your bottom half. “It’s okay… I still love you, much more than Jade.”

What is he talking…?

You don’t realize the way the air in your lungs dissipates, the water rising with each second, further engulfing you in his overwhelming obsessions. Not affection, obsession.

Your Azul would never drown you like this.

“…You can’t be Jades if you’re mine first.” It’s too late to get out of his hold now. The sea is much too terrifying when it’s around you. You don’t feel air in your lungs, but you don’t suffocate, if anything, you can’t suffocate. “It’s okay angelfish,” His voice is muffled, fingers steadily crawling up your neck until his finger reaches your lips, resting his forehead on yours, “Your husband shall care for you now, not that eel.”

Tears well in your eyes, but not from the pain. It’s from this thing saying such sweet things to you. You have to keep telling yourself… This man isn’t Azul. It’s not… You have to come to terms…!

Azuls mouth connects to yours, bubbles escaping you from the contact. He continues to exchange his affection into your lips, greedily quaffing your air like it’s his, his to breathe in.

It’s not how your husband kissed you, he kissed you with a gentleness akin to a flower. He’s kissing you as if he intends to swallow you whole, not allowing your love to be anyone elses.

Yet, a moment passes and you’re returning each kiss with a fever.

He’s not Azul. It’s not Azul. It’s not your Azul. Azul. Azul…!

In some miracle, you break your arms out of his tentacle hold, wrapping those freed limbs around him. You don’t notice the way you’re not even breathing anymore, too focused on each lipped exchange you have with Azul.

“Now Jade can’t have you. You’ve been ruined.” You were always ruined, ever since he left. Even now as you act so indulgently with the creature with Azuls face, you’ve been ruined.

But you know Jade wouldn’t care.

“You and Azul acted on your wedding night? Oh, dear… Hm? You thought me to be worried? Oh my, it’s quite the opposite… Why…? Well simply put, I’ll show you how much better I am.”

“We will drown together angelfish.”

It doesn’t matter. This thing is the closest to Azul you’ll ever be again, you have to savor it…—!

A tiny ray of light shines through the murky water, hitting Azul right in the eye. He falls back, clutching his eye, hissing through swollen lips. Your falls back into the water, a moment of stupor clouding your judgment before swimming away. What could’ve done that to him?

And what made you wish to stay?

You turn around, curious about the purification that suddenly hit him, and with it, your common sense. You were… indulging a demon. A shadow.

Your eyes glance at the projection, a window, stunningly showcasing the sun-rise that emerges. Azul continues to hiss, his ghostly form fizzing in the water. In a last-ditch effort, he extends his arm to you, his other limbs seemingly unconscious as they lay still.

But before he reaches you, your eyes flutter shut. Oxygen is no longer your savior, but perhaps a cross might be better.

A hand grabs onto your shoulder.

Your body feels dry, warm if anything. It must be the candles Jade has lit around you. Even then, perhaps you never were in the water to begin with. The sight of a soft blue invades your vision. Right, your shared bedroom with the leech.

“Do be careful, it makes no good for your recovery if you continue to act like a fish out of water.” Jade's body emerges from the door, long legs striding over to take his spot next to your bed.

“Jade…” There’s a certain tenderness in your voice that makes him tense, but he resumes as if it never happened.

“Your voice sounds sweet. Perhaps I should keep you bedridden all the time.” He’s back to being coy. But you don’t have the energy to keep up. He stays silent when you do. He knows something’s wrong with the way your eyes stare longingly, even more so when you take his gloved hand like you would a lover.

He knows there’s something wrong, yet he can’t bring himself to do anything. If he did, you wouldn’t return his affections like you are right now, would you? Plus, why ever would he wish to shorten such a sight, you never let him this close.

You never let him look into your eyes for too long. They’re a beautiful enchanting hue, he wishes you’ll let them see them more often.

On your face of course. Though, if things ever become drastic, a jar wouldn’t be a bad option either.

…

You think you wanna run away. Far from here, you know it will follow through, forevermore you’re sure.

That thing, it dared to take advantage of you and implement fond memories, make you believe it was Azul. Monsters are horrific, but liars are much crueler.

“Jade you have other estates to live in, correct?”

“I do.” He rubs his thumb over your skin.

“Allow us to sanction ourselves there then”

“You can’t flee from a shadow dear.”

“… I… What are you speaking about…? Jade?” He doesn’t reply, only allowing his prophecy to implement itself into your veins. You shake his arm, attempting to make him spill more of his nonsense, but he doesn’t. He only smiles at you before gently taking your hand and placing a kiss on your bare skin.

He leaves the room with more questions asked than answered.

“Jade Leech…!” Your voice comes out gurgled, bubbles popping out rather than air. “…?!”

Salt water stings your vision, but in the tiny blear you have, something odd swims in front of the portrait at your feet. A large painting forcibly commissioned by Jade, where you’re sat on a throne adorned with different seashells and coral. That’s the only good thing about the portrait, for that throne was something of Azuls that you pressured Jade into letting you keep.

Your pupils trail down Jade's figure, reaching his hips, where a shadow covers his legs, making his limbs look to be one long tail.

…

The eel swims away the moment you start analyzing it.

You jump up from the bed, your blanket floating aimlessly in the air as you swim toward the painting, taking hold of the golden frame adorning its edges. Your fingers tighten their grip on the intricate detailing at your newfound findings.

There’s a faint reflection of grey hair in the decor of your chair.

You’re about to punch a hole through the canvas, already working to raise your fist at the cloth. When you finally throw your limb, you’re only stopped by knuckle meeting solid gold.

Limbs wrap around the string of the conch necklace, dark purple, accompanied by the feeling of a cheek nuzzling into your own.

“I found where Jade left this.” Any chance of fleeing is already taken from you, as tentacles grab hold of your legs. When you turn you’re met by Azul, a much softer look than what he had when you last saw him. “Mm, I’m sorry, Angelfish. I didn’t mean it, I would never truly hurt you.”

How is he back again?

You continue to only stare at the beastly version of your husband. No… your ex-husband, for Azul, is no longer in the land of the living.

And this pathetic replication of him will never live up to your true Azul.

“Won’t you forgive me?” he trails kisses up your neck when you fail to smile at him, or even touch him. “I found your gift, I hope you still like it.” He rocks you in the water, a familiar action Azul would do in private.

You reply minimally, only nodding along with whatever nonsense he spouts, all for you to understand the only questions in your mind.

What is this fiend? And how does it continue to appear in your home?

These two questions only continue to eat away at you with each twirl in the water. Truthfully, this seems like a scene you could only dream of, it’s so soft and so pretty. But you can’t bring yourself to enjoy the moment.

Your thoughts stop when you feel The mid-water waltz come to a halt. The grasp on your legs tightens once more, as he dips you down, forehead finding refuge on yours.

“Are you ready to leave now?” You choke on water.

No… No…!

“It seems we are, let's go then, Angelfish.” The cruel copy of Azul smiles lovingly at you while you struggle in his hold, air bubbles popping out your throat as you try to scream underwater.

You’d die… You’d rather die than destroy Azul's love for you by eloping with this evil tempter.

How…? How?! How in bloody hell do you rid yourself of him?!

Shadow-made tendrils begin to make their way across your vision, covering any chance of a plan you have. Despite your struggle, he shushes you like one would comfort a child.

You’re starting to feel your conscience fade away into his palms, your defeat inevitable.

Until you feel your curtains graze your fingers. Your hand weakly grabs a handful of the fabric. Will you even be able to pull this giant thing off? You can barely move…!

Despite your reservations, you try. You feel his thumb trace over your lips, a single tap acting like a kiss.

…

You bite his thumb.

He jumps back, still holding you. But, it’s enough force for you to yank the curtain down, light quickly stabbing its way through the water. The rays puncture his purple skin, his eyes widening as he quickly tries to drag you back into him. In his weakened state, the moment he pulls you close enough, you kick your legs into his stomach, pushing yourself away from him.

“No…! No! You didn’t! [Name]! Come back here! COME BACK!”

You swim as quickly as you can to the door, busting through its hinges. You don’t look back to see if he’s gone or not.

…

That only worked because it was day. You didn’t even know if there was sun.

“Jade…?” you stand up on trembling legs, looking around the vast halls of his estate. “Jade?!” You sound pathetic right now, but you need him.

It’s the only way you won’t die by that thing's hands.

“Jade—?!” your desperation finally begins to seep through, each shout of his name dripping with fear. You’re on the verge of tears with your last ask. “Jade, where the bloody hell are you—?!”

“I’m right here.” your head turns towards his voice. ”My, are you a masochist dear? It does seem like you enjoy pain much more than anyone else in society—” You run up to him, willingly letting yourself envelop him in a hug, pulling his neck towards you as your arms wrap around him.

“Jade… Don’t leave again.” You’ve forgotten his last statement before he left, the rage no longer resides in you for that. For a moment, Jade's hand hovers over you, before he finally allows himself to indulge.

“I do hope this is not another attempt at subduing me with your affection.”

“Are you saying if I tried that it might work?”

“Unfortunately, not might, would.” You don’t reply to him, only tightening your wrap around his figure. You wonder why he doesn’t question the fact you are soaked in salt water.

“When you asked me not to leave you again, I do admit, I thought you would be following me around rather than me pursuing you.” your fingers flip through dust pages as Jade sits at your side. He wouldn't dare to annoy you so heavily this time, for it’s the first time you've let him sit only a few inches away from you. So close he can hear each breath you make.

It’s lovely.

“Well, if you have an issue I can always request Floyd to come over. He looks enough like you that I can pretend he is you.” Jade smiles through his pointed teeth, opening his mouth to retort before you cut him off,” Though, I already like him much more, so I don’t believe I have to.” You don’t look at him, but you smile knowing Jade’s once sadistic smile has become much more strained.

“Was it not you who begged me not to go?” It’s your turn to strain a smile. “It was like a sweet delicacy to my ears, much better than any cries from a brothel.”

“Ha, do you wish me to accompany you to such an obscenity? I do regret to inform you that I am not that kind of spouse.”

“Well then, it’s good I don’t wish to act on such desires, for they’re all reserved for you and you exclusively.“ you roll your eyes at your husband, ready to reply to such a tempting statement. You pause when your eyes scan over the words you’ve been looking for.

Ombre: A shadowed figure that resides with those of the recently grieving. They appear to manifest through the belongings of the departed. There have been some cases where all items are gone but the beast remains. These are especially heinous for they can be entirely regular humans. Though, for a majority, your best chance of purification is to rid yourself of such objects.

…

Your fingers snake around the golden conch at your neck, your eyes furrowing at the writing. For a moment, you look down at the surface, the shine glimmering in the light.

For a moment, only a single moment, you can see Azul in its reflection. A cruel reminder of the love who gave you something so near to your heart.

…

You grab Jade's gloved fingers, mismatched eyes staring intently at the way you take hold of him. His face leans in, his forehead pressed on yours… You bring his hand to your chest, wrapping his fingers around Azuls necklace, tightening his grip. You allow him to continue resting his head on yours.

If you close your eyes, you can pretend he’s Azul. So, you close your eyes.

“Please…” you whisper, soft, so soft not even the dust in the air could hear you, but only Jade. “Azul, save me.”

Jade stays silent at the name you say. His free gloved hand finds itself on your cheek, wiping away the tear that trails down your face. You don’t see him take his thumb and lick the salt from your cries.

“Of course I will, Angelfish.”

Your cries increase with the sound of each crack resonating at your chest. Before you, your beloved parting gift from Azul is but golden shards and memories.

You finally open your eyes, ready to collect each piece to melt and send them far away. You’re met by Jade still pressing himself against you, not Azul.

“This is the part where you tell me I’m heinous, to get off you before I sully your clothes with my slimy countenance.” He hopes you’ll tell him to get off, to leave before the sensation of his supposed heart beating in his chest kills him.

“I’ll move when you do, Jade.” his inhale gets caught in his throat. The feeling of consuming you whole embeds itself into him, hands reaching out to wrap themselves around you.

They stop when he sees the way you look at the broken necklace.

…

Jade removes himself from your comfort, grabbing a pot and delicately plucking each one from your skin.

“It seems it’s time to gift Floyd. I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed at the knowledge it’s from you.” you look down at the broken conch once more, before nodding.

You turn back and forth in your bed, Jade sleeping peacefully right next to you despite your unrest. You’ve ridden yourself of almost every single gift and belonging you’ve still retained of Azuls.

Except one.

The damned antique coin of Azuls.

You throw the covers off, taking candlelight in hand. Truly… where could it have gone? You glance back at Jade, still slumbering completely fine in your bed.

It’s when you think back to your first meeting with that thing, do you remember where it is.

In the darkest corner of Jade’s estate.

The only good thing is that it’s a mere few feet away from your bedroom. You turn towards your doors, your forehead resting on its wood. The flame from the candle you hold flickers, a symbol of your wavering fear.

If you don’t get that coin, who knows when that ombre will decide to reappear again?

Your hands linger on the doorknob, a moment of hesitation striking you. You push through this fear, turning the handle and swinging the door open, the force blowing your clothes.

The false Azul is at the end of the hallway.

You shut the door swiftly, the slam resonating through your ears as you barricade the door with your body.

“Bloody hell— Jade! Jade wake up—!” you’re no longer met with the sight of your bed, neither Jade. Only a curtainless window allowing the light of the moon in,

And your dead husband's shadow.

“I love you.” its face no longer holds remnants of the love it showed before, completely expressionless as it looks down at you. The light from the moon backdrops it, the only light coming from its body being its eyes.

Its entirely shadow, the only part of Azul left in it being his eyes, and that hoarse voice.

“You…! You’re not Azul… Stop defacing him!”

The shadow moves its tentacles, scooting closer to your form. You can see a glint on its face, tear streaks.

“Do you love Jade now? Is that why you don’t love me anymore, Angelfish?” it slowly inches forward, and you bury yourself even further into the wood. You’re about to reply to such an accusation before spying on a familiar glint buried in the coral on its shoulder.

Azuls antique coin. You need it.

“… I could never love Jade.” you move off the door, “If… If you’re really my Azul, please,” you slowly walk to the shadow, putting on your best face, “proof to me that you're the man I love.”

It sits on the floor, opening its arms like Azul once did when he wanted you to sit with him, “that’s one thing… What else, Azul?” you walk over to it, placating it as you sit in its lap.

You slowly inch your arms up its torso, waiting for its next move.

“Angelfish, tell me if there’s anything you want, I shall get you it with a snap of my finger.” its arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into it. “After all, I'd do anything if it meant your happiness.” You successfully wrap your arms around its neck, plucking the coin from its shoulder.

“I wish for a puppy. Those little things are truly adorable.”

“Ah, they quite are aren’t they?” its fingers playfully trace up your spine, its face adorning the smile it must’ve practiced dozens of times. “Do you know what I wish for my love?“ you prepare yourself to rip from his hold and make a dash for the window.

There’s a river near this window, if you throw this coin there, the current can carry it away.

“What Azul?”

“For you to stop believing me to be so foolish.” Its smile quickly falls, throwing you to the door, far from your current objective. You grip the coin so hard, you fear it will embed itself into your palm, but it's better than losing it. ”Truly, am I that hideous the idea of leaving with me is unfathomable?!” its tentacles wave around the room in a rampage. You stand up, ready to run to the door with whatever it takes.

“No…! You have my Azuls face…!” You run through the swing of each appendage. “You could never be ugly in my eyes because of it!” You’re only a few feet away from the window, mere feet from removing this falsified version of Azul.

You’re met with the feeling of a slimy body blocking your path, a suffocating hug halting your path.

No…! No!

“It doesn’t matter if you hate me, I’ll always love you.” you’re so close… So close! “It doesn’t matter anymore, you’ll find your love for me again when we leave this place.”

Love.

“We’re leaving now, no matter what you convince me with—” You bury your lips into its own, those eyes widening at the feeling. You back it up with each exchange of your lips, caging it between you and the window. It’s too caught up in the way you kiss it, to notice your arm raising the coin.

It looks down at you when you part for air, staring deeply into your eyes, a trail of black ink connecting your lips.

It finally notices when you smile at it, a smile filled with the purest of love, for a man in your past.

“I love you, Azul.” you chuck the coin into the river, the water dragging it far into the ocean.

“No—!”

You watch as its form disperses into a cloud of black dust, the last action it takes is to reach out for you.

For a moment, you see its face take on the true appearance of your husband, smiling at you.

The wind drags the ebony sand out the window, leaving you stranded in your room alone.

“Azul…”

…

The light peaks through the tree's leaves, shining on Azul as he checks his books.

“My, it seems my husband is having an affair with money…! How cruel, and you always told me I mattered much more.” you laugh at your words as Azul rolls his eyes at you, opening his mouth as you feed him.

“Yes Angel, it’s because you matter much more to me that I do this, how else will I keep you happy?” He pushes up his glasses as you wrap yourself around his arm, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“Hmm… Perhaps take me out more often?”

“Oh? Is three outings a sennight not enough for you? Greedy greedy.” he tuts at you as you laugh.

“I’m greedy? Seems quite hypocritical from a businessman, hm?” he smiles at you before planting a kiss on your temple.

“Yes, greedy for you.” he shuts his book as he turns to face you. “When I die, I'm sure I'll be desperate for you even after death.” his hands hold your face in his palms.

“Don’t say such things! You’re going to send yourself to an early grave…!” he doesn't answer, only smiling at you.

…

You look down at Azuls grave, placing a bouquet of irises on his tomb.

“See you soon Azul.”

You turn back to Jade, his arm sticking out to guide you back home. He smiles when you take hold of him, talking about your day.

You knock down the books on the table as Jade places you on his desk, his lips bite marks into your neck.

“I won’t be able to return to society if you keep this up, Leech.” His hands trace up your sides as he removes his teeth from your neck, licking a stripe up your skin before burying his lips into your own. He’s so greedy with each kiss like he’s attempting to consume your love all for himself.

What’s left of it anyway.

“Perhaps that’s what I want, yes? To have you all by yourself in this home…” A string of saliva connects you two at the moment. When he thinks you’ve breathed enough, he traces his canines on your lip, biting the plush skin before reconnecting yourselves. You fall against his desk, his gloved hand wrapping your leg around his.

“Possessive, I don’t like that in men, unfortunately.” he laughs at your words, rubbing circles into your hips.

“Yes, then perhaps I should drop dead—”

“Jaaade.” you both stand up at the call, Floyd wandering the halls aimlessly.

Jade sighs, extending his arm to guide you out of the room and see his brother until he gazes at the current state you’re in. Messied hair, swollen lips, and ruined nightwear, you smile messily at him,

“… I shall see to Floyd, stay in here.” he turns toe and walks toward the doors, your smile falling as you look at him.

He doesn’t think you’ve noticed, but you can see the way his body grows wispy in the light. You’ve seen the way he grows bigger at night.

You’ve noticed that Jade Leech has never been the man he says he is, for he is anything but a man.

You should’ve known when the first moment you met him was through the remnants of Azuls shadow.

A/n: I hope everyone enjoyed this!!! So far I think this is my favorite fic i’ve written (≧◡≦) ♡. Honestly, I thought about having Floyd make an appearance, but I thought it would be funnier if Jade stop him from ever seeing you because he gets jealous you like him more LMAO.

It’s not explicitly stated there because I wanted reader to be in the complete dark about the contract, but the reason he had you wed Jade after his death is simply because he loves you so much, the idea of you forever being alone because of him hurts. So, he signed the contract with Jade to ensure someone will love you in his absence 😁😁😁

Plus, He noticed the way he gave you googly eyes whenever you were around and was like “really? In front of me?”

Poor Floyd curses the fact he didn’t make his lovey dovey eyes as strong as Jades ever since your remarriage, should’ve been him 😞.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yan twst #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere

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rhaenyraslaena · 1 year ago

Text

Duty is the Death of Love Chapter IX

Jerusalem Beckons

Available Here: ao3

“I do not recognize these banners, Eulalia. Might you recognize them because you are the princess that is most properly trained in court etiquette and knowledge?” Marwan reining in his horse in approach to her side is accompanied by a snark laced voice and an inquiring brow raised with curiosity.

“They belong to Godfrey of Ibelin, one of the great knights of Jerusalem.” Though her plain garments of white cotton may disguise her identity as Eulalia of Bethlehem , the growth of annoyance against her features is curbed though she may wish to grant a slap against the skull of her cousin for the mocking tinged commentary. “His banners are very common at court, especially now if he’s made his return from France.”

An utterance of an Aramaic name derogatory in nature for a person of French descent follows with swiftness as Marawn has never held any drop of affection for the nobility of foreign descent that took occupation of the lands upon the creation of the kingdom.

#kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #koh fanfiction #baldwin iv #baldwin iv of jerusalem #baldwin iv x oc #king baldwin iv x oc #penned by khadija #fic: duty is the death of love

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asykriel · 2 years ago

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Love is the Death of Duty - 12.

® do not repost or translate !

☆ Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Male! Targaryen OC

☆ Status: Ongoing

☆ Summary:

“He is half of my heart.”

War made monsters of them all, but it also brought the two second sons together in a flurry of death, love, deceit and delusion. The story of Aemond Targaryen and the eldest son of Daemon and Rhaenyra, Maegor Targaryen, second of his name.

☆ Warnings: Sexual content, explicit violence, dark themes, targcest etc.

☆ AO3 ☆ || ☆ Wattpad ☆

☆ CHAPTERS: (Prologue) / ( 1 ) / ( 2 ) / ( 3 ) / ( 4 ) / ( 5 ) / ( 6 ) / ( 7 ) / ( 8 ) / ( 9 ) / ( 10 ) / ( 11 ) / ( 12 ) / ( 13 ) / ( 14 ) / ( 15 ) / (16 from now on upcoming chaps only on- AO3 || Wattpad )

☆ Masterlist ☆ || ☆ Spotify Playlist ☆

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CHAPTER 12

Noon comes alive with the sound of laughter and the rhythmic clash of wooden swords upon the grassy clifftop next to Dragonstone castle. The sky stretches endlessly above them, its vibrant blue a striking contrast to the dark grey of the castle's stone walls. The sun's warm embrace bathes the landscape in golden light.

Jacaerys and Lucerys engage in a spirited sparring match, their wooden swords dancing through the air with a swift elegance. Despite the weight of the wooden brace that encases Jacaerys' injured arm, he moves easily. His torso is bandaged, a reminder of the injury he sustained during the incident on the beach. He reluctantly arrived on a Driftmark ship the day before, after being forced to leave Vermax behind with the Seasnake's fleet until he gets well enough to fly again.

On a higher vantage point, Daemon watches them nearby, his arms folded across his chest and eyes sharp.

Now, Jace acts like a training dummy for his younger brother to practice his moves on. He doesn't mind it though, he missed home like crazy and there was a point in the Stepstones when he was certain he'll never see Dragonstone again.

"Lucerys, watch your guard." Daemon's voice occasionally cuts through the sounds of their training, offering advice.

But he seems distracted, almost completely disinterested on babysitting them. Despite his usual vigilant presence, there is a distant gloominess to his expression, a hint of preoccupation that lingers in his thoughts. Jace knows exactly why. When he returned to Dragonstone, Daemon did not ask him anything about Maegor or whatever else went down in the Stepstones, but Jace had a feeling he already knows a lot. The Rogue Prince has spies in a lot of places that act like his ears and eyes.

Lucerys, his swordplay nimble and determined, tries to find an opening, jumping from one foot to another, but everytime, Jace parries one handed.

"How are you ever gonna win if you keep dancing like that, Luke?" His older brother teases him, playfully smacking his shoulder lightly, with the practice sword.

Luke scowls and lunges after him again. The wooden swords clash harder this time as the younger Velaryon tries to put all his strength into the blow. Unfortunately, once again Jacaerys parries even with one good arm and trips his brother, causing him to fall on his back in the grass.

"This isn't about strength, use your head more." Jace drops his wooden sword and extends his hand to his brother to pull him back up on his feet.

"Ugh I think Maegor rubbed off on you. You're starting to sound just like him."

"If it makes you improve, I'll take it as a compliment." Jace ruffles his brother's dark locks as they catch their breath.

The usual comments and observations about their posture and strikes that they expect to hear from Daemon never come.

Instead, when they both turn their heads towards the high ground where he's standing, the Rogue Prince isn't even looking at them. Too lost in thought, fixing his gaze on the horizon with a stern expression on his face. Something changes in the atmosphere, a shift in the air that draws their attention skyward.

With his seasoned perception, Daemon sees it before his step sons do. The dark form becoming larger, flying at a lower altitude and high speed towards them.

"Maegor is returning already?" Jace questions. But Daemon remains silent, his gaze narrows and his features hardening as he assesses the approaching dragon, while making his way next to his step sons instead.

Soon enough, it becomes clearer that it's not the Cannibal, but Vhagar instead. The thunderous sound of wings grows louder until Vhagar touches down on the clifftop, the force of her landing causing the ground to shake and the air to stir. Lucerys loses color from his cheeks as he watches the giant beast land close to where they are standing, knowing well enough who her rider is.

The dragon's deep rumble quiets down as she lays flat upon the ground, her presence commanding respect. Yet, there is an unexpected urgency in her posture, a sense of agitation that speaks of something amiss.

"Help! We need help!" A voice cries out, the desperation cutting through the air like a blade.

When the dust settles, the three finally spots Prince Aemond climbing down the dragon while he's cradling a limp body, his face etched with panic, as his one eye fixes the unconscious figure he holds in his arms.

It takes a moment for Jacaerys and Lucerys to register who it is. The shock sends a wave of dread crashing over them.

Their brother's body.

Jacaerys wastes no time rushing over to them, with Daemon on his tail, leaving Luke to stare at the image in shock, still trying to process everything.

"What happened?!" The eldest Velaryon questions in disbelief.

Jace can't comprehend that the same person lying unconscious in the grass is his brother with how sickly he looks. Maegor's complexion was always fair, but now his skin looks deathly pale, breaking in a fever alternating with a cold sweat, his lips are cracked, colored in a shade of blue. He looks like a corpse.

"He's been poisoned! I tried to help him, but he's getting worse by the minute. I don't know what else to do, he looks like he's going to die any moment now!" Aemond pants, blabbering on, his voice full of anxiety. His hands shake as they clutch onto his nephew's clothes, refusing to let go.

"Jacaerys. Fetch the maesters, hurry." Daemon steps forward and Jace barely waits for him to finish his command before running off. Daemon reaches out to touch his son's burning forehead, then going down to his chest to feel his weak breathing and process his condition. However rattled the Rogue Prince may be, he does not let it crack through his stoic persona in front of his nephew.

"We need to get him inside. Now." He tells Aemond and they both carefully lift Maegor's body, carrying him on their arms inside the castle. There's no malice this time in Daemon's voice when he speaks or looks at his nephew. He cannot afford wasting any second showing his disdain towards the Green pup when his son is taking his last breaths before his eyes.

For Aemond too, nothing else matters right now. He forgets the grudge he holds for Lucerys even when his nephew follows them inside the castle, keeping his distance before disappearing, probably to get his mother. He pays no attention to the thoughts that he is not wanted here, not even when the courtiers and servants gather to witness the scene in shock. Not even when he can hear the whispers and gasps behind him when they carry Maegor through the halls to his bedroom. The thoughts that his sister surely despises him like she despises his mother. Or that Daemon probably wants to take his head and send it off in a bag as a gift to his family in King's Landing.

All he cares about is Maegor. Seeing him healthy and on his feet again, on the back of his dragon so that they could fly together, side by side once more. If he loses his beloved nephew, Aemond will never forgive himself, might as well drink poison willingly, than let him die because he didn't pay enough attention, because he wasn't close enough to stop the Martell bitch.

"Who did this?" Daemon turns his attention to Aemond as they both step aside from the bed to give space to the maesters to work on Maegor.

"Alliandra Martell." Aemond grits his teeth seething in anger as he, recalls the events in his mind.

Daemon lets out a bitter laugh. If he knew this would happen, he would've had Qoren's whole family murdered years ago.

"And?"

"She's been dealt with, along with whoever was left in Old Palace."

"Good."

That's all Daemon needs to know. That whoever laid his hands on his family is dead and he only hopes they suffered greatly before the end.

When Aemond immediately set flight to Dragonstone, the Cannibal strayed behind, instead of tailing Vhagar. He was just as thirsty for vengeance as the Prince and left the Old Palace a pile of smoldering ruins. Trapping everyone left inside to burn alive or be crushed by toppling ruble, blinded by the rage for what they did to his rider. The beast's fury spared the older Prince from another trip to Dorne, like he initially planned. Aemond wanted to fly back himself and destroy the seat of House Martell once he brought Maegor to Dragonstone.

There's no need for this however. He can stay here, next to his bedside and wait until his nephew wakes up or until Daemon decides to kick him out or throw him in the dungeons, but not even that will deter him.

"Daemon! What happened, what's the meaning of this!?"

Rhaenyra bursts onto the scene, her pregnant belly prominent as she rushes through the hallway to Maegor's quarters. Her steps are hurried and her expression a mix of confusion and fear.

Aemond makes eye contact with her briefly, the surprise on her face tells him no one updated her on what happened until now. He says nothing, stepping out of the way to let Daemon intercept her and take her aside, a hand on the small of her back, preventing her from entering Maegor's bedroom. The younger Prince can't quite hear the hushed exchange between his uncle and sister, but he can guess he's trying soften the blow, to deliver the news in a way that will spare Rhaenyra the full weight of the situation. But, as expected, his sister's emotions are too raw to be assuaged by mere words. It doesn't work the way Daemon intends.

"I told you not to send them to war Daemon! I told you!" Rhaenyra exclaims in her husband's face, her expression full of anger and worry.

Aemond's eye flickeres between the tense exchange. It's evident that Rhaenyra's nerves are running high, and the gravity of the situation is not lost on her.

As the tirade continues the Rogue Prince grabs her hand, an attempt to offer solace and reassurance. But Rhaenyra's response is anything but compliant. She yanks her hand away, her gaze unwavering as she barges inside the bedroom, passing by Aemond like he's not even there. Inside she finds the maesters fussing over her son, giving him all sorts of concoctions and treatments in an attempt to break down the fever that gripped him.

Aemond watches how Rhaenyra approaches the bed, understanding the shared pain of helplessly watching a loved one suffer. For a moment there's a tinge of jealousy gnawing the Prince as he wonders if Alicent would react the same if he was the one lying in that bed instead.

Rhaenyra's hand hovers uncertainly, her fingers mere inches from her son's forehead. But she withdraws it. Her emotions are laid bare along with her vulnerability. She decides against caressing her son, fiddling with her fingers, over her belly instead. , Her hesitation is driven by a worry that touching him might reveal the cold embrace of death. She's afraid, she'll touch him and it'll feel like touching corpse. Stiff and breathless.

"Come, you need rest. Let the maesters do their job." Daemon comes from behind her, putting his comforting hands on her shoulders to herd her away from the bed. This time Rhaenyra relents and allows herself to be guided away, keeping her shoulders tense and the turmoil in her eyes.

"You should return to King's Landing at once, brother. I'm sure your mother is worried about you." Rhaenyra stops in front of Aemond, this time his presence is no longer ignored.

"I will have to refuse, sister. I'm not leaving Prince Maegor's side." Aemond says firmly and honestly, trying to keep a polite tone. Daemon raises a curious eyebrow.

"I am not asking, Prince Aemond." Rhaenyra does not scowl or glare at him, but the tone in her voice makes up for the lack of harshness in her expressions.

The younger Prince bites his inner cheek, but keeps his cool. There's no need for snarky remarks if he wants to have any chance on changing his sister's mind.

Before he can answer, Daemon steps in instead. Surprising both his wife and nephew.

"Let the boy stay, it's the least you can do for saving our son's life."

Aemond's violet eye widens in surprise, his mind struggling to process Daemon's words. He wonders if exhaustion and anxiety are playing tricks on him, distorting reality.

But it was clear and real enough.

His sister's glance shifts between him and her husband, half surprised half cautious of the statement. Rhaenyra takes Daemon aside to whisper something silently in his hear before she leaves eventually.

Watch him, Daemon.

Aemond stays out of his uncle's way, he gave him the permission to stay, but it was clear that this is not a gesture of complete acceptance. He decides to slip back into Maegor's bedroom, choosing to sit next to the window overlooking the clifftop where Vhagar is resting. He watches over the maesters, carefully following everything they are doing with his eye.

It's not like his own maesters would harm him but after what happened in Dorne, Aemond finds it very hard to trust letting people around Maegor.

The sound of Vhagar's deep growl resonates through the window and Aemond moves his attention to her restlessness. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as he watches Saagael appearing out of nowhere to land next to the larger dragon. Aemond was so focused on getting Maegor as quickly as possible to Dragonstone, that he left him behind when the beast started destroying the Old Palace. Altough, he has a feeling that the Cannibal caught up with them not long after, thanks to the strong bond he has with Maegor. Staying out of sight, lurking high above the clouds. Even if he now has a rider he's still just as wild, maybe even more vicious now that he has someone to defend.

"I was wondering whether or not he survived. A fine beast." Daemon mumbles, joining Aemond next to the window. His nephew, stays silent, only humming in approval.

His love for dragons is not news for Aemond, and he admires him for it. Aegon often joked around that he probably loves Caraxes more than his wife, but Aegon is a spoiled fool and a drunk that never understood or at least never seemed to care enough for Targaryen customs and pride. Aemond admires Daemon for a lot of things, even if he will never step on his pride to tell him that.

The beasts bear their teeth and rumble in acknowledgement for each other's presence. Ever since their first meeting, they've started to accept and tolerate one another more, snapping and snarling less when either Vhagar or the Cannibal got too close to each other. Mutual respect.

A glint of hope shines in Aemond's eye as he moves his gaze to the bed and sees how Maegor barely stirs. He's been limp and unresponsive ever since they arrived, until now when the maesters start putting moist towels wrapped in who knows what herbs all over his upper body, their faces etched with a mix of concern and concentration for their Prince.

Outside, a roar erupts and Maegor shifts again, this time more noticeable and Aemond's focus is drawn back to the clifftop. The Cannibal fixes his cold stare on the window to the bedroom high up in one of the towers, making eye contact with both Daemon and Aemond.

Whether it was the strong bond between them or all the medicine starting to work no one knows.

The black dragon cries out with a roar again. Seeking, calling for his rider. A cry that seems to resonate with something deep within Maegor's unconscious. And then, as if in response to the call, a faint change occurs, a raspy groan escaping Maegor's lips as he moves, a small sign that life still flickered within him. Just barely.

Aemond's heart races with hope and he rushes to his nephew's bedside, the maesters stepping out of his way in surprise.

"Maegor...Can you hear me?" The Prince asks, gently brushing a finger across his nephew's eyebrow in a tender gesture.

No expected response comes. No other sign of life.

Just Daemon coming from behind and placing a firm hand on his shoulder, gripping it almost painfully.

"Come nephew. A servant will show you to your quarters." He tells Aemond calmly, his voice carrying an underlying warning.

"I will not leave his side." Aemond replies firmly and he almost regrets it.

The Rogue Prince's demeanor shifts in an instant, his expression hardening as he harshly pulls his nephew aside, away from the wary and curious looks of the maesters.

"Don't mistake my tolerance for kindness boy. I've only allowed you to stay for Maegor's sake." Daemon's voice was a hushed whisper, but the intensity behind his words is as undeniable as the glare in his violet eyes.

"And for that I am grateful, uncle. But I-"

"Good, then while you are in my home and under my roof, you will do as I say. Unless you want to return to your mother, be it still standing or in a coffin that depends on you. Don't think I forgot about the little stunt you pulled at the feast." Daemon's tone brooks no argument.

The tension in the air becomes palpable, the fragile peace shatters in an instant. Aemond clenches his fists, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of his uncle's authority.

He bites his tongue, swallowing his retort, realizing that he needs to tread carefully if he wants to remain in Dragonstone. For the sake of his lover, he decides to endure whatever his uncle throws his way.

Thankfully, the guest quarters he's given are not that far away from Maegor's, close enough to offer him some relief and comfort. Despite his exhaustion, sleep evades Aemond, and he paces the room in restless agitation. He attempts to distract himself with a book he picks from the available bookshelf, but his mind is too preoccupied to focus on the words. Back and forth, pacing turns into idle reading, which turns into staring at the rock ceiling. The passage of time feels torturous, each moment stretching into eternity as he waits in solitude, hoping for a miracle to descend on his nephew.

Finally surrendering to the strain of the day, Aemond lets himself fall onto the bed. Sleep claims him, but it was a fitful slumber plagued by nightmares he cannot recall. A gasp tears through his lips as he awakes, his body drenched in cold sweat. His fingers instinctively touch his eyepatch that he forgot to remove before falling asleep, a constant reminder of what was stolen from him.

The room is now shrouded in darkness, a weighty silence pressing in from all sides. Midnight has fallen, and Aemond is trapped in a realm between wakefulness and dreams, his thoughts consumed by worry for Maegor.

The moonlight filters through the window, casting eerie shadows across the room that add to his restlesness in his bones. Aemond's heartbeat quickens as he forces himself to his feet, his body tense with a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation.

The candlelight from the torches in the hallway slip under the door to his chamber as he moves towards it with cautious steps.

A soft sigh escapes Aemond's lips, a whisper of concern and longing. He raises his hand, his fingers hovering over the doorknob, before he hesitates once more. Aemond's resolve wavers, his emotions in turmoil. He wants to be there for Maegor, to watch over him, but he also fears the consequences of defying his uncle's authority, of testing his 'generosity'. He knows that defying Daemon's demands could strain their already fragile relationship even further.

Aemond's internal struggle plays out until he eventually gives in to his own stubbornness and worry for his lover.

Luckily, the dimlit corridor is silent, no servants or guards in sight at an hour so late. Akin to feline stealth, Aemond makes his way back to Maegor's quarters, and slips just as silently inside his nephew's chambers, carefully closing the door behind as if nothing but the a draft made it creak.

Herbs and incense burns, the pleasant and soothing aroma filling the bedroom as Aemond steps inside. He can only hope that the combined efforts of the maesters, who have been tirelessly tending to Maegor, will finally offer him some relief and bring him back from the clutch of that poison that will not let him escape.

Besides a steadier breathing rhythm, Aemond doesn't note any other change. But a small one is welcomed anyway.

Aemond sighs and drags an armchair next to the bedside. He sits in it, taking Maegor's feverish hand in his own and placing a kiss on his forehead as he starts his watch.

There's no telling how much Maegor can actually comprehend in his weakened state, but his uncle hopes that his presence, his touch, can offer some sort of comfort.

As the hours stretch on, Aemond's exhaustion catches up with him. The weight of his emotions and the constant vigilance he maintains all take their toll. Slowly, his eyes grow heavy, and he finds himself sinking into the armchair and back into slumber.

In the dim light of the chamber, the light sounds of Maegor's steady breathing serve as a lullaby of sorts. Aemond's breathing gradually match the rhythm, and his tight grip on Maegor's hand relaxes. Despite the turmoil that has surrounded them, the silence of the room provides a momentary respite.

As the night gives way to the first rays of dawn, a soft glow begins to filter through the window, bathing the room in a gentle, pale light.

In that serene morning hush, the door to the chamber creaks open.

Daemon steps inside, his footsteps quiet as he approaches Maegor's bedside. His gaze instinctively go first to his son. An expression a mixture of concern and relief on his face as he sees the subtle signs of improvement. Then his attention shifts to Aemond, who sleeps soundly in the armchair, unaware of his uncle's presence.

The sight is certainly unexpected, and Daemon's brows furrow at the defiance as he studies his nephew's vulnerable form. Aemond's very existence has been a source of tension in their family ever since his foolish son started pinning like a madman after him. But now, as his nephew slumbers so caressly. His defenses are lowered, his expression peaceful. It could be so easily for Daemon to just put a quick end to all of it. He could. He would if he had less wisdom. Firstly not because it would lead to war, but because of his son's reaction. Grief can turn people to insanity, he has seen it happen to others, the last thing he wants, is to put his son to go through it with his own hands.

Daemon's internal struggle is evident in his gaze as he regards Aemond. He prepares to awaken him, to address the situation and remind him of his place. Yet, a moment of hesitation stays his hand. Perhaps it is the sight of his son, the fragility of the moment, or a lingering memory of how Maegor was declaring his love for Aemond, shouting in Daemon's face, that makes him pause.

Instead of waking his nephew, the Rogue Prince steps takes him closer to the other side of his son's bed. He watches Maegor for a moment and his eyes fall to his hand held by his nephew's.

A bond that runs deeper than Daemon initially thought, blaming youthful lust and the natural curiosity of desires in the beginning. Now it was slowly becoming clearer to him that it's more than that, whether he likes it or not. Lust does not make people go to war and be ready to sacrifice their own lives for the other. Lust doesn't bond like this.

The faintest of smiles touches Daemon's lips as he lets out a silent snort of defeat.

With a final, lingering glance at the two, the Rogue Prince quietly turns and leaves the chamber. closing the door behind him and instructing the servants and maesters to not disturb his son until later in the day.

In this quiet morning, a temporary truce is granted, a reprieve from the conflicts that have plagued them, at least for a little while.

────────────────────────

(Fanart of Maegor and Saagael committing war crimes in Dorne drawn by rice.watermelon)

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myfictionaldreams · 1 month ago

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Seven // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: One week is all it takes for your world to come crashing down. Even though you could have everything you'd ever wanted, for some reason, something isn't right. Will your emotions and the smothering of overprotective Stucky come to an end?

Prompt: please read my 'origin' fics last hope (Ch 1) (Ch 2) for some reader backstory.

Requested by: 2 x requests mixed together. @hellsenthero for the safeword use, subdrop + lots of angst/comfort & anon with very overprotective Stucky. I hope you both enjoy, this gets quite intense so be ready!

Warnings (PLEASE READ): injuries, blood, safe word use, discussion of m*rder, severe panic attack. Not by the main characters: threats of abuse, unconsenting face touching, derogatory, misogony, slut shaming

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (!), Overprotective (!), Dom/Sub, threesome, hurt/comfort, possessive, sir kink, oral (f + m recieving), squirting, subdrop, crying, anal, double penetration, praise kink, begging, rough sex, aftercare (sorry if i've missed any lmao)

Words: 9k (it's a long one!)

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

One week. Seven days.

Not a significant amount of time for most in the grand scheme of a lifetime. How much could change in a single week? Everything it seemed and yet nothing at all.

A week of not acting like yourself. Days filled with conflicting thoughts between overreacting and not having the energy to emote. Excuses became your best friend. Maybe it was because you were due to start your period; perhaps it was a mental breakdown. Who knows?

There was never a day that you EVER doubted your love for Steve Rogers and James Barnes. The term soulmates didn’t even come close to how much you loved these men. The loves of your life. Saving you from a lifetime of pain, saving you from yourself. There would never be a day that you weren’t grateful for these men, and every day, you tried to show them your appreciation with love and affection.

Yes, you were still human. There were days when you couldn’t even cope with their assertive overprotectiveness. Yes, it was for your benefit; they loved you as much as you loved them. Scared of losing you, cautious of the horrible life and background that they’d saved you from. Their job as heads of the Rogers Mafia was rifled with dangers, violence, and death. There was always a target on their backs and anyone they encountered. The list was endless as to why Steve and Bucky acted as they did.

For years, there was nothing but appreciation for this way of life. The dangers that surrounded every second were always at an arm's length away from you as you lived a comfortable, loving life with the men you loved.

Steve and Bucky were renowned for their protection of you. Going to extreme lengths to make sure you were safe. This ranged from 24/7 security, personal bodyguards always by your side unless they were there, and weapons hidden throughout your home that you had been thoroughly trained on just in case.

Next were the verbal and physical threats Steve and Bucky would give those who dared to look at you for more than 5 seconds. People died. MANY people had been killed, as a matter of fact, in the line of duty, love and a little bit of crazy. The lines that were crossed to make sure you were safe had no boundaries.

Except on these small occasions. Just one week for your patience to lose all hope.

MONDAY

It had been a calm day for you. You complete chores at home until you’re satisfied while your boyfriends are at work, making money and continuing to prove they own Brooklyn. You wanted to treat them to something special and decided to cook a hearty meal and have a romantic dinner.

The table was decorated with candles and fresh flowers from the garden. Even your dog Dodger was handsome in his blue and red bowtie around his neck. He sat his head on his paws, watching you chop vegetables.

“What do you think Dodger? Does Mama move well?” you ask him whilst shaking your hips in time with the song playing on the radio. The rottweiler’s head tilts as if to say you’re really going to ask me that?

“Fine, maybe I can’t dance, but I can cook; if you’re good, you’ll get some of the meat scraps”. Dodgers ears perk up at this, and you can’t help but grin down at your baby, “Of course, you’re going to be a good boy, you’re always my good boy- OW SHIT!”

The pain is intense, and the burn radiates from the centre of your palm. Blood, that's all you see at first. The crimson drips from the end of the knife in your hand before it clutters onto the cutting board.

“Honey, we’re home!” Bucky hollered from the front door.

You couldn’t reply. Utterly frozen and helpless as more drips continued to coat the surface. This is how you die from chopping vegetables. You’ll be the laughing stock of the infamous mafia leader’s lover dies from cutting a carrot.

Dodger, ever the inquisitive boy, began to bark hysterically, running out of the kitchen towards Steve and Bucky, jumping up at them, biting onto their clothes and pulling in the direction of the kitchen. He’d been trained for moments like this to protect and alert if you’re in danger.

“What is it, Dodger? Where is she- Fuck! Bucky, get the first aid kit. Baby, let me see.” Steve’s hand's cup yours, pressing firmly against the area that was now throbbing and you couldn’t help but hiss as the sting intensified. “I know it hurts, but I need to stop it bleeding”, he explains whilst coaxing you toward the sink.

With surprising gentleness for such a big hunk of a man, Steve washed your hand, able to inspect the wound as Bucky appeared to your other side with the first aid box opened and ready.

“It’s not deep enough to need stitches, thankfully, but I’m going to need to press on it for a couple of minutes to stop it bleeding”. Nodding your head in response to Steve, you lean against his body, finding comfort in his warmth and firm body.

“I guess that’s the last time you try and do anything romantic, huh, Doll?” Tilting your head toward Bucky, you glare hard at his joke as he sticks out his bottom lip in a pout. “Oh, I love it when you try and look angry with me; you look so damn cute”, he finishes his teasing with a bop at the end of your nose with his finger.

“Bucky, stop being a jerk”, Steve chastises as you hide your face in his chest.

“I just wanted to make you both a nice meal”, your voice muffled against Steve’s white shirt.

“As much as we appreciate the sentiment, maybe use the precut carrots next time, yeah?” Knocking your shoulder against Steve’s chest, he laughs and kisses your cheek as an apology for his joke.

Your hand is then thoroughly wrapped in a bandage, probably more than necessary, and you’re nudged to sit at the table while they continue cooking the meal you’d planned. Guilt settled uneasily in your stomach. It was meant to be a pleasant surprise for them, but now they’re left clearing up after you.

Dodger came over, licking at your uninjured hand, begging for pets you’re more than happy to give him as you contemplated how to make up for your mistake.

However, Steve and Bucky had other ideas as they took it upon themselves to ensure you were effortlessly cared for to the point that they refused to allow you to cut up your food or feed yourself, cuddling you into Bucky’s lap as he fed you. Next, they’re undressing you slowly, carefully and tenderly, bathing you, being careful of your injury, and ending the day with enough orgasms to have your mind fuzzy and body sated.

You were treated to the care and attention you were used to, and Steve and Bucky did not complain once. In fact, they had smiles on their faces, and they enjoyed looking after you, which is where your conundrum occurs. Sometimes, the overprotective attentiveness verged on being smothering.

TUESDAY

It did not end. You’re washed, dressed, and hair combed by them. Even lifting the damn spoon for your cereal to your mouth.

“I can use a spoon; I’m not incapable of everything!”

All you’re given in response from Bucky is a soft smile, his eyes flicking across your face like he’s trying to memorise every pore, and then once more, he continues to feed you. “I like looking after you like this”.

“What, like a baby?” you ask in a monotone voice.

“You know exactly what I mean” he rolls his eyes playfully but doesn’t stop.

You knew he was trying to be innocent and caring, but for some reason, this time, it was hitting you the wrong way. One small mistake, and now you aren’t even trusted to do anything for yourself? Maybe it was because you were irritable, as they were only being nice to you, but something didn’t feel right. You need a breath or moment to be independent, but for today, you let it go, thinking it would all be back to normal by tomorrow.

WEDNESDAY

There was never a single complaint when it came to sex. They worshipped every inch of your body. Your trust in them was never-ending, especially in your most vulnerable positions. They both knew you better than you knew yourself in those intimate times.

When you need soft, they will give you love and gentleness. When you needed a more brutal, rougher fuck, they would absolutely be up for the job, which is why in the different situations and scenes played out in the bedroom, you all used the traffic light system for safe words. What might be right for one person doesn’t always suit the others.

It wasn’t even like you used the word ‘red’ often, but today, you needed it just because of your uncomfortable position. Kneeling over the back of the chair, Steve had one hand roughly gripping your hip as he fucked you from behind, blinding you with the pleasure pulsing in your cunt from his engorged cock. The other hand was in your hair, pushing you towards Bucky’s cock as he fucked your mouth.

It was perfect, hard and highly satisfying. Until Steve lifts your right leg, trying to rest your knee on the arm of the chair, giving himself more room to push his cock deeper. However, the angle at which he lifted your leg had a sharp pain shooting through your hip joint as it clicked.

Tapping your hand three times on the back of the chair, the pressure on the back of your head eased as Bucky’s cock slips out of your mouth as you rush out the word “Red”.

There’s instant relief as Steve moves away, allowing you to lower your leg and rub the sore area that had clicked. The leg wasn’t dislocated; it was just a bad angle and horrible timing.

“Did I hurt you? Christ, baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to”, Steve begs as he hovers behind you, looking helplessly down.

“I just- need a minute”, you say, trying to catch your breath enough to explain what had happened. The muscles around your hip ached, but nothing more as your breathing slowed enough that you could look up and try and give a reassuring smile. You hated how they both appeared terrified, glancing between your hip and face. “It’s fine; I just twinged my hip a little. Maybe if we just move positions or something so I’m not kneeling”, you suggest whilst trying to stand, but wince when the soreness returns to your hip.

Steve’s eyes are almost bulging out of his head, and he is concerned as he shakes his head, leaning down to lift you into his strong arms. “Absolutely not; I’m taking you to the hospital. I could have broken your hip; I’m not risking it”.

Gripping his cheeks, you force him to look at you while trying to remain calm and stern. “Steve, stop! It’s fine; it was just a little twinge. I’m not going to the hospital. Nothing is broken; I would have told you if it was, and you’d never break me.”

Steve didn’t look convinced as he carefully settled your body into the centre of the bed, his calloused hand lowering over your body until resting over your right side. “You don’t know that. I could have dislocated your hip or something.”

Moving your leg to emphasise that this much damage hadn’t happened to your hip, you comb your fingers through his blonde hair to soothe him. “Steve, please stop overreacting. I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine”.

Bucky suggested, “If you won’t go to the hospital, then I’m still going to call Doctor Banner to come and check you over. There could be a trapped nerve or-”

“No! You aren’t listening to me. Please, will both of you just stop? I don’t want to go to the hospital, and I don’t want the Doctor to come and see me. It was a little twinge and nothing more. I’m perfectly well.” The blonde and brunette exchanged an uncertain glance but thankfully didn’t say anymore.

It was safe to say the pleasurable mood was thoroughly out of the window as they began to tentatively and extra carefully give you aftercare. Cleaning you up, ensuring you’d had something to eat and drink and wearing comfortable clothes. One of them continued to touch you at all times, even as you fell asleep, stroking over your back and massaging any aches and pains away.

THURSDAY

Usually, after an emotional night, you’re feeling needy, but today, you’re withdrawn, potentially experiencing a subdrop where your emotions are heightened and vulnerable.

If you thought Tuesday Steve and Bucky were constantly at your side, this took smothering to a whole new meaning. Even when going to the bathroom, one was there to ensure you were okay, to the point where you stopped answering and continued with your day. It was too much, and it wasn’t like you meant to push them away, but you just needed space, a moment, a second, to catch your breath. It was like you were drowning with the want to be ok, but being constantly reminded that you weren’t made it more difficult to recover.

Your friends who had children would always speak about those moments when they’re overstimulated with touch by these kids. No matter how much they love them, it becomes too much when someone constantly needs to be on you at all times of the day. This was exactly how you felt. You love them with all your heart, but it becomes too much.

By the time the sun had set over your home, you were hardly conversing with either of your boyfriends, which had them both tense. Deep lines were imbedded between their brows; fists clenched to stop from wringing their fingers together. Some of you felt sad and guilty even for pushing them away, especially when it came to bed, and you wanted to spoon a pillow rather than one of them.

FRIDAY

Due to their lifestyle, there were days when they could stay at home and others when they were needed at work. Today, they were needed at work and for a change of scenery, you wanted to join them, which had never been an issue before. Especially after the last few days with your emotions all over the place, you just wanted some normality with the two men you loved.

“Wait, what do you mean I have to stay here?” you ask in a state of shock, feet planted into your living room carpet.

The men share a look you’d seen multiple times this week already. Where no words are shared, but enough was said for you to read between the lines. The mafia leader stepped forward, all towering and handsome in his suit, enough to distract you momentarily. Especially as his big hands cup your face, tilting it back so that he can kiss you enough to take your breath away. As he pulls away, you’re lifting onto the tips of your toes for more.

His hands remain framing your face as he explains, “We just think it would be best for you to stay here and get some rest, that’s all. There’s also an important meeting today with some unkind people, and we’d rather you stay here where it’s safe.”

You sigh exasperatedly, holding onto his wrists to keep him in front. “But there are always meetings with those types of people. I’ve attended many, might I remind you? I’ve rested enough this week; I want to come with you both.”

Steve’s blue eyes drill into yours as he chews on the inside of his cheek, contemplating before glancing over to his boyfriend, but it’s your turn to hold onto his face, forcing his gaze back to yours. “No!” you snap, “Don’t look at Bucky for backup. I want a genuine reason for being forced to be kept in the house. I want to stay with both of you today, and I thought that’s what you wanted over the last few days?”

It was a low blow, and you had to refrain from cringing.

“I can stay”, Bucky begins as you look over at him as Steve’s hands fall to his side.

“No. That’s not fair. I’ve been here for four days now. Please let me come with you”. It wasn’t often you had to beg either man for anything other than during an intimate moment. They were always happy for you to do anything, especially if it meant for you to remain at their side.

However, as both of their blue eyes clash in another knowing gaze, you give up. Feeling once more vulnerable and tired. It had been an odd week, to say the least. Stepping away from them, your shoulders drop in defeat. “You know what, I’ll just see you both when you get home. Please be safe”. With that, you escape up the stairs with the plan to rot in bed for the remainder of the day to catch up with your emotions.

Bucky heaves a sigh as you reach the top of the stairs. A small part of you wished that seeing you this upset, they would have chased you, but this didn’t happen. As the front door opens and closes, you can’t help but drown in the emotions of the last few days, crying into your pillow.

Later, when they return home with bags of take-out and unharmed, useless, this would be enough to pick up your spirits. However, you aren’t in the mood, unable to pull yourself out of the grump, mentally still blaming it on your impending period.

So, you ate the delicious food and climbed back into bed. It wasn’t like you were going out of your way to be distant, but the rejection from earlier still hurt, so being petty, if they wanted to be without you, they could continue that way.

SATURDAY

Wake up alone, but you know they’re somewhere still in the house. It takes you considerable time to even crawl out of bed with how groggy you feel. You’d probably spent more time in bed this week than any other time, so you decided enough was enough. You texted your friend Laura Barton.

I haven’t seen you in a while and need a distraction. Coffee date?

Five minutes passed before your phone was lighting up with a response.

Love in paradise? You know I’m always free for you; I’ve just got to bring Nate along as no babysitter, but I’m down!

My mind’s just all over the place, and I really need a friend, you respond immediately.

I can pick you up in 20, and we’ll head to a coffee shop.

Your fingers are typing before you have a moment to think about what you’re sending, and you reply, "That’s if they will let me leave the house."

The three dots on your phone appear and disappear multiple times before Laura’s text arrives. Wow, if you’re revolting against their overprotectiveness, things must be tough there. I’ll be there soon. I’m sure if you bat your pretty lashes at them, everything will be fine.

If only you thought rather than responding and taking the next 15 minutes to prepare. After getting dressed, you feel much more motivated and in better spirits; speaking to them about leaving the house is the only issue. You just needed an hour or two away to clear your thoughts from all of the protective, macho-man bullshit that seemed to surround you on the daily.

They’re both working out in the gym, and for a second, you admire them, your mouth slipping open in awe. Dressed in only their gym shorts, you’re momentarily jealous of the sweat dripping down their chests, the muscles covering their bodies flexing with each movement.

“If you want a closer look, Princess, why don’t you come here?” Bucky eyes you just as hungrily as he lowers the weight, wiping a hand over his stubbled jaw.

Taking a deep breath and trying to remain on the plan, you shake your head, straightening your posture. You can do this.

“I’m going out”, you firmly state. Usually, you ask so that they can prepare a bodyguard or security guard to patrol the area, but not today. You were a grown-ass woman who didn’t need to ask.

Steve nods, moving some strays of his wet blonde hair out of his piercing eyes. “I hope it’s somewhere fun”.

Your gaze is still flicking between them, especially Bucky as he saunters over, his eyelids lowered, and he looks like an animal on the way to pouncing on his prey. You’re like molten lava by the time he’s by your side, all but ready to jump into his arms, kissing him until you’re breathless. Your fingers slide over his firm chest, feeling his muscles, thumping heart and skimming over the scars where the metal of his arms connect with his skin.

You mewl pathetically as he pulls back, grinning as he realizes how needy you’ve become. “If you give us a few minutes, Sam can prepare a car.”

Sam is your trusty bodyguard and best friend, and as much as you love spending time with him, today, you didn’t want to be reminded of how you always needed to be coddled.

Taking a hearty step away from him, you firmly say, “No. I don’t need Sam. I’m just going out with Laura, and she’s picking me up. It’s just coffee. I’ll be fine”. Much like the rest of the week, the atmosphere soon sours as Bucky’s grin fades until you can see his jaw tighten as he swallows.

“Ok, that’s fine”, he begins slowly, like he’s careful with what to say. “Laura can drive you, but Sam’s still coming with you, Sweetheart. It’s too dangerous out there”.

A negative heat flushes through your chest as rage slowly takes over. “No. I just need some space, I just-”. You hated how difficult it was to articulate yourself when angry. Most of the time, your instinct was to cry, but you needed to explain how you were feeling to them.

Steve enters your eyeline as he lowers his height so you’re both eye to eye. “Ok, Sam won’t go.”

“But-” Bucky tries to interrupt but stops when Steve holds up a hand to silence him.

“Take my card with you and buy yourself something nice. Have fun, baby girl”. You’re so shocked by Steve’s reaction that you hardly respond when his lips caress yours in a simple kiss.

“Really? You’re letting me go like that?” you ask suspiciously.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we? We’re a team, right?” There’s something in how he looks at you with such uncertainty that your chest is tightening. A beat passes before your arms are locked around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him slowly and deeply. Savour the touch of his stubble against your cheeks, the softness of his tongue. You’re relieved when his fingers dig into your waist, holding on with just as much eagerness.

Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. The reminder that Laura has probably arrived outside has you taking a step back, licking your lips while looking down. Your fingertips slip over his abs, which flex as you touch them.

“I’ll see you both later, love you” Quickly pecking Bucky, you turn and leave the gym, tickling under Dodger’s chin as Steve and Bucky simultaneously shout ‘Love you’ back.

Sitting with a coffee that probably had a week's worth of caffeine and a cake the size of your head, you could finally go into detail about what was happening with Laura.

“So after all that, they really let you come out with no security? I’ve never seen that happen before”, your friend muses whilst sipping her drink and trying to entertain her toddler, Nate.

“I guess not that I’m going to complain about it. Feels rebellious to be out here by myself”.

The time passed, and it was relieving to catch up with her, definitely needed someone to validate your feelings. You still absolutely loved them and appreciated everything they did for you, but you were smothered over the last few days.

Just as you’d taken another sip of your coffee, the fine hairs on your neck rose as you felt like someone was watching you. Keeping the coffee at your lips, your eyes darted, looking out the window to the street and the patrons in the coffee shop when you saw them. Both of them.

Sensing your change in demeanour, Laura frowns as she looks at you. “What is it?” She looks around the room, and it takes seconds before she chuckles. “You’re joking, right? Did they really think a baseball hat and aviator sunglasses would be a good enough disguise?”

The fury that had first hit you when spotting Steve and Bucky soon turned to sadness. It was like they didn’t trust you at all, feeling overwhelmed by them. Initially, you wanted to confront them, but there was no point; you just wanted to escape and go to your safe space.

“Can you take me home, please?” you quietly ask Laura, pushing away the rest of your coffee.

You try to ignore your friend's sad look as she leans across the table to hold the back of your hand. “Honey, I’m sure they’re just trying to look out for you”.

“Yes, I know, they just could have told me. It makes me feel incompetent when they sneak around behind my back.”

“It’s not that, you know it’s dangerous to be dating them-”

“Yes, I know. Please, can we just go”. You didn’t mean to snap at her, and it was clear she didn’t seem offended as she packed up her belongings and rested Nate on her hip.

Standing, you walk without stopping towards the exit, conveniently where your boyfriends are sitting. Out of the corner of your eye, they both stand, and Bucky tries to reach for you.

“Just listen, we can explain why we’re here”.

You don’t stop. Even as the tears begin to fall and you see the visible flinch from Bucky, you don’t stop.

Laura tried to comfort you in the car, but it was useless. You’re home with a brief goodbye to your friend. Weaving past the security to the entrance to your home, you finally are at your front door.

By the time Steve and Bucky return, you’re upstairs, changing into your pj’s with a tub of ice cream and Dodger at your side. “Baby, where are you?” You don’t answer, but it doesn’t matter as in a matter of seconds, Steve is standing at your bedroom door, breathless and clearly distraught. “Just give us a minute to explain. It’s too dangerous to be out by yourself. We didn’t want to make you feel crowded by having someone at your side, but you need someone close just in case”.

Allowing him to speak, you’re too much of a coward to face him, turning away as the tears continue to fall and soak your clothing. “Mmm hmm, I understand”. You feel drained of energy, and the caffeine from earlier has no effect. Moving towards your bedside cabinet, you unplug your phone charger, collect your phone and ice cream, and bundle the fluffy decorative blanket from the bed.

“Where are you going?” Bucky now asks where he appears at Steve’s side, appearing just as concerned as his boyfriend, with the hat and sunglasses gone.

“The spare room”.

You can hear the audible breath that your boyfriends suck in. It took everything in you not to change your mind immediately. It hurt them, but they also hurt you this week. It wasn’t like you were gathering all your stuff and going to stay in a hotel; it was only across the hall for the rest of the day.

It was just a break, a place to cry without having someone watching and then consequently feeling guilty for having emotions.

One of them begs, “Why are you going there? Just let us talk,” but you’re done.

“I don’t want to talk” Your bottom lip wobbles as you hold back the sobs, threatening to burst free.

Bucky steps forward, whose metal hands are cupping the point of your chin to tilt your face up to his, “Don’t stay in the spare bedroom; if you don’t want to sleep with us, we’ll stay on the couch. Just give us a minute, please”.

Trying to ignore the pleading in his tone, you shake your head, not trusting yourself to talk. Walking around them, they let you walk past, and no word is shared as you walk across the hall to the spare room.

Locking the door, you can just turn the TV on before releasing the pent-up sob you’d held in. Nearly the entire tub of ice cream has been emotionally eaten, and eyes are sore from the crying. It also felt soul-soothing to get all your emotions out, and by the time hours passed, you were ready to speak to them both, except for one long blink, which turned into a full sleep.

SUNDAY

There was no sense of time when you began to stir, only aware that the room was mainly cast into darkness except for the glow from the TV that was still playing whatever trash TV show you’d picked on Netflix.

You’re so incredibly comfortable you have to hold back a groan of pleasure with how content you’re feeling. It was like you were in a cocoon of warmth and contentment as you nuzzled further into the firm yet soft heat beneath your cheek as the bubble surrounding you tightened.

Thump thump. Thump thump. The therapeutic beat against your cheek was something you had already memorised in your dreams.

All the memories came flooding back. The crying, the argument, the locked door, the ice cream and more crying. The locked door. Something you specifically remember doing, yet somehow, you’re wrapped in a boyfriend sandwich, and you’re pretty sure the heavy weight across your feet is Dodger.

In truth, you were happy to be there and had planned to speak to them before your eyes had closed. You’d never fallen asleep during an argument before; it felt unhealthy in a relationship to do, and god knows how stressed Steve and Bucky must have been.

Snuggling closer to Steve’s chest with your back pressed against Bucky’s, you finally feel content after a week of wobbly emotions. You’re sure you need to speak with a therapist or something with how up and down you’ve been all week. You didn’t want to move from this spot ever again.

However, the urgency and pain radiating from your bladder had you cursing. Carefully and with great difficulty, you can wiggle out of your beefy cuddle and sneak to the toilet with Dodger following closely at your side. On the way, you’re able to see the door knob to the room has been shaped like it has been gripped, assuming that Bucky’s metal hand was behind the breaking into the room whilst you’re asleep.

Once in the bathroom, you take in your dishevelled look, showering, freshening up, rebandaging your hand, and dressing in one of Steve’s comfortable jumpers. On your way back to the boys, you pause, overhearing them awake and whispering.

“I told you we shouldn’t have broken in”, Steve groans frustratedly.

“Yeah, well, I’m not sleeping without her”, Bucky argues, his voice crackling lowly from where he’d just woken up.

There’s a momentary pause, and you’re about to go in when they continue. “You don’t think we’ve pushed her too far, do you?” Bucky asks.

“You tell me. She’s not in here now. She’s kept up at arm's length for days. I feel like I can’t do anything right. I just want to keep her safe, but I feel like we’re losing her”.

Broken. That’s how they both sounded, and you have done this. Your eyes sting as they, once again, well with tears, and you move back into the room, pulling the sleeves of your jumper down over your hands to wipe away the moisture.

“I’m sorry I made you both feel this way”.

Strong arms wrap around your body, cradling you carefully against their body as you’re moved to sit across Steve’s lap, and Bucky takes your feet into his lap so that you are facing one another. “I love you both. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know whether it’s my impending period that’s finding everything too overwhelming. I’m sorry!”

You’re hysterical as they both attempt to ground you with soothing shushes and strokes of their hands over your back and legs. “Sweetheart, it’s ok”.

“No, it’s not okay! " Reaching up, you take Steve’s face in your palms and say, “I love you! I would never leave you. EVER!” Next, you hold onto Bucky, half crawling fully into his lap to get your point across: “I love you so much; I’m sorry I wasn’t there to fall asleep in your arms.”

“Hey, hey, calm down, Mama. I’ve got you, we’ve both got you. We aren’t going anywhere”.

Eventually, you can calm down enough, cuddled up against Bucky with Steve massaging the souls of your feet. You all discuss everything from feeling smothered by them to your up and down moods, feeling incompetent, and yet understanding why they are the way they are to keep you safe. It was like the world had tilted back to the right way up. Boundaries are set, so some understanding will be shared if you ever feel overwhelmed again.

“We just need you to know that we’re never going to stop protecting you until our last fucking breath”, Bucky promises as he kisses your temple.

“Good thing neither of you is going anywhere. Did you really think I’d ever leave either of you? Do I need to remind you of the hell hole you saved me from all those years ago?”

“Yes, and you’ll never have to live like that again. You’re mine and Bucky’s. No one will touch you again”.

If only Steve knew what was to come.

It was the early morning hours after your long chat, but it was late enough for Steve and Bucky to forgo sleeping and head to the office. Having a couple more hours of sleep after they left, you were fresh and ready to go by the time Sam was knocking on your front door.

It had been a long week, so you surprised your bodyguard by hugging him. “Did they tell you about my week?” you ask, needing to know if Sam had been updated about everything from your boyfriends.

“I don't know what you mean” Judging by his tone, he damn well knew what had happened, but nonetheless, his arms tightened around you, “as much as I love your company, the bosses will kill me for touching you”.

You pull back, alarmed to see him trying and failing to hide the smile on his face. Rolling your eyes at his jokes playfully, you climb into the waiting SUV.

“Just a warning, boss lady. There’s a meeting being held over the next 10 minutes,” Sam explains as he pulls into the parking lot that opens into the warehouse.

“Oh? Do you know who it is with?”

Sam shrugs, helping you out of the car whilst looking around at the chaos surrounding him as men and women rush around the crates and trucks. “Some hotshot guy who owns a couple of clubs wants to have the protection of the Rogers team so he can run his underground market. HEY! That’s not supposed to be in that shipment, you dickwad! Sorry, do you mind if I go kick their heads in?”

You know he’s joking, but he nods, grinning as Sam, the group's mother hen, rushes toward the offending truck. “Good luck! I’m going to head to the office. I’m sure the meeting will be over soon.”

Lost in your daydream world, you’re half paying attention as the elevator arrives at the corridor leading to the office. Stepping out and into the elevator, expecting it to be empty but stopping short when, you find a man leaning against the wall, staring at his phone.

The walls felt as if they were caving in. Everything, including your breath and heart, pauses momentarily as you know who it is. You’d know him from his voice, aftershave, and grimy hands. He was one of the many that plagued your nightmares from a past you were trying to forget. No happiness existed when your brother controlled every aspect of your miserable life until Steve bulldozed his way into it.

Ralph Pannone, the man before you, was one of the highest individuals in your brother's gang, but over the last few months before it all came crashing down - thanks to the Rogers mafia - he had been missing on a job. It had been a relief, if not a blessing, those weeks without him and the years that followed, and it’s easy to think you’re safe from those past demons when they don’t haunt you in reality.

The wolf tattooed on his throat is ingrained into your mind. The silver of his fingers glinted in the dimmed light that was shockingly cool against your skin from all the times he had inappropriately touched your face.

Later in therapy, you would talk about your instinct to freeze when in a shocking, fearful situation. For example, on Monday, when your palm was accidentally cut, and today, staring at one of Hell’s workers in your safe space, all you could do was freeze.

He must have smelt your fear because his face slowly turned to yours, his typical devilish smirk causing your knees to shake. You wanted to scream. Scream for help for Steve and Bucky to save you.

“I was saddened to see my little kitten wasn’t on her knees and waiting for me in that meeting like I thought she would be. But, it appears she wants her own personal meeting”. He’s now walking towards you, and there’s nothing you can do except tremble with fear.

Kitten. That nickname that always had you flinching. It was his favourite thing to call you. He’d say it’s because you’re soft and cut, and whenever he decided he had the right to touch your face, you would swat him away with your ‘sharp little claws’. He was degrading, misogynistic and utterly terrifying.

The tip of his boots brushes against the front of your shoes as you breathe in his nauseating aftershave. “Come on, kitten, cat got your tongue? It’s funny how your brother gave you everything, but it wasn’t enough, was it? You still had to have my BEST friend killed and sleep your way to the top of Brooklyn.”

You finally have a visible response when you flinch away, staring at the floor as you struggle to catch your breath at his derogatory words. Your throat burns with the threat of vomiting as his fingers graze against your forehead, brushing aside a strand of hair until it's tucked behind your ear.

Leaning even closer until his lips are close to his fingers around the shell of your ear, he whispers, “Don’t worry, my sweet kitten. You’re going to be mine soon. These pretend soldiers aren’t going to stop me from getting what’s mine.”

And then he’s gone.

Like that, your world is once again tilted on its axis—the safety net you’d been cocooned in, shattering into dust. Time doesn’t seem to exist when you’re in this state of shock as the next minutes or hours flash by in brief glimpses.

Lying on the floor of the corridor, high-pitched ringing in your ears.

Sam’s face hovered above your own as he shouted, but you couldn’t hear what he said as the world felt muffled. All you could tell was that he was conflicted between being scared and furious.

Now you’re in the office, specifically Steve’s personal office on the couch, your head in Bucky’s lap as Steve paced a hole into the carpet.

Natasha was here, by your side, talking lowly to you. It feels like you’re responding, but you can’t be sure. It was like your body was in a weird limbo of sorts.

Home. At last, you were home, in your bed, with Doctor Banner lightly touching your wrist with his eyes closed. He was counting, you thought, and as he finished and glanced up at your face, he was happy to see you were awake. A bright light flashed in your eyes as you flinched away, trying to shield yourself.

“I’m glad you’re back with us.”

“What happened?” you croaked from the dryness in your throat as you tried to sit up.

“Careful, here’s some water. It appears that you had a panic attack and fainted. Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be any head injuries or lasting injuries. Maybe a bruises here and there. Do you remember what happened? What was the last thing you remember?”

Ralph.

The next thing you know, you’re breathing into a paper bag as the Doctor rubs slow circles over your shoulders, trying to reassure you to breathe slowly. It took a few minutes to calm down before you could ask, “Bucky, Steve, please, I need to see them”.

“Of course, I’ll go right and get them. I’m on call tonight, so please don’t hesitate to get them to phone me if you need anything”. You’re hardly paying attention as he leaves, and suddenly, you’re first welcomed by a lick on the face by an excited Dodger and arms around your waist and back as Steve and Bucky are finally at your side.

They all hold you as you cry, not a single tear reaching your shirt as either Dodger licks them away or Steve and Bucky wipe them with their fingers.

“I’m not expecting you to explain what has happened, and I have never been more scared than seeing you on the floor, barely conscious, without an obvious reason for it. I want you to know you’re safe, and the threat has been eliminated”.

Turning towards Steve, you give him a questioning look so he continues explaining. “We watched the security camera from the corridor. He saw what he did, and we heard what that scumbag said to you. For some reason, a background check wasn’t completed on him so he could weasel his way into a meeting with us. We found plenty of evidence of his involvement in your brother's gang.” Steve has to take a deep breath as his anger increases again, his jaw tight.

Bucky, therefore, continues, but you can tell by the venom in his voice that his anger is just as severe as his boyfriend's. “It took me minutes to track him down whilst Natasha and Sam stayed by your side. We wanted to stay, but we needed to be the ones to end that fuckers life. I wanted to see the light leave his eyes”.

“To be honest, we killed him too quickly. I wanted to inflict as much pain mentally as he had done to you, but know that he died screaming and begging for his life”.

Steve and Bucky held no remorse when he came to you. This was the life they lived, the protection they offered for someone they loved.

Appreciation and regret are the two words spiralling through your thoughts. Appreciation for them both, for everything they’ve ever given for you and regret for how you’ve overreacted this week. Yes, you were human; it was expected to have ups and downs days, but right now, there was nothing more you wanted than to show how much you loved them right back.

You were done being the victim.

You’re in Steve’s, thighs burning from the stretch of straddling over his, your fingers desperately clutching into his blonde hair, pulling onto it and drawing his face towards yours. You feel his body tense and then wholly break. Warm hands grip your waist, dominantly tugging your body closer until you flush against him.

“Dodger, go to bed, buddy,” Bucky instructs, clicking towards the door. The good boy that he is, your baby strolls out of the room to his bed downstairs.

Your hands are all over Steve, combing through his locks, to the stubble on his cheeks, to the muscles over his shoulders. You needed to feel all of him, the softness of his skin, the power in his legs, the hardness of his cock.

“More, I need more”, you beg against his lips whilst trying to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Woah, ok, hold on a moment”, Steve urges gently whilst cupping both of your hands away from his chest. “I think we need to walk about this. You’ve been through a lot, and I just need to ensure you’re alright”.

“I can and will talk about this, but not right now. I need a distraction, and I need you to remind me that everything is alright. I need you to remind me that I am yours, and you are both mine, and no one will change that!”

“Damn right, you’re ours”, Bucky growls possessively, tugging on the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, angling your head back and devouring your mouth. At the same time, Steve’s on your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nippin' in the sensitive spots. Your hips instinctively grind against Steve’s crotch, needing pressure and stimulation to your pussy.

You’re rewarded with the outline of Steve’s cock, hard and squished within the confines of his suit trousers. Bucky’s tongue enters your mouth, and he groans at your taste, his sharp teeth catching your lower lip and soothing the bites with more kisses.

“Need this off!” Steve demands as he roughly grabs the hem of your shirt, tearing it down the middle and discarding the pieces across the room. His mouth is then attached to the swell of your breasts, sucking until pain and pleasure pulses in the areas. With a simple snap of his fingers, the clasp of your bra is the next to be removed.

Topless, his bare hands are finally able to cup your breasts, his thumbs pressing on your hardened nipples. “These are mine”, he speaks against your skin before sucking a nipple into his mouth, pulsing the sensitive area until you’re crying out his name against Bucky’s lips.

Your panties feel uncomfortable and restrictive with how warm and wet you are between your legs. However, your needs are the last thing on your mind right now as you need to please your boyfriends and show them your appreciation.

Reaching between your bodies, your fingers press against the swell in Steve’s crotch, massaging the throbbing erection until he’s bucking into your palm. Undoing his buckle and zipper, you’re able to free his cock, moving your tight fist up and down his length as he groans hungrily against your breasts.

With unsteady legs, you climb off Steve’s lap and lower to your knees on the carpet; however, his hands pull up against your arms, stopping your movement. “No, this is supposed to be about you”.

Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you move back to your knees, massaging your hands up Steve’s thigh. “No, actually. It’s supposed to be about all of us. Now, please, let me suck your cock, sir”.

The name works wonders as his cock visibly throbs against his abdomen, and his eyes darken as he licks his lips. To his side, Bucky pulls off his shirt, muscles flexing as he does so, and you continue with your plan for the rest of the evening. “I want to take you both at the same time. So why don’t you help me, sir?” you’re looking directly at Bucky now, who grins in response.

“Fuck yes, Doll”.

He helps to take off the remainder of your clothes until you’re left kneeling, back arches and ass perked up with Bucky behind you, his hands massaging your ass cheeks.

“I want your pretty little mouth on Steve’s cock whilst I make you cum. Do you think you can do that for me, Princess?” Bucky asks whilst kissing up the length of your spine.

You don’t need to verbally answer him as your mouth is instantly on the blonde’s cock, teasing at first with licks around the sensitive head before wrapping your lips around the thickness and sucking inches of it back into your mouth. You’re welcomed with a sinful gasp from the man who spreads his legs further, giving you more room to settle between them, his big hands resting on the back of your head.

Bucky watched whilst removing the rest of his clothes before delving into his own personal feast. Growling with hunger as he spreads your cheeks and licks from your clit up to your puckered back hole. Your body reacts by pushing back into his face as his tongue slips into your pussy, slurping all your juices lewdly.

His tongue played special treats against your clit, circling, sucking, pulsing whilst his finger dipped into your asshole. He knew exactly how to get you worked up as he used your wetness to lube one finger, then two, gently easing in and out, trying to stretch the area for his cock. It burned, but it was a delicious pain you’d hoped for when asking him to complete the task.

Just as he had three fingers penetrating your hole, your orgasm burst in pleasurable, mind-numbing waves as your pussy squeezed his tongue desperately. Your moan also caused your mouth to vibrate around Steve’s cock as he verbally coached you through your pleasure.

“That’s it, cum around Bucky’s tongue. Taking his fingers so well, aren’t you, baby girl? You’re made for us.”

Nodding with his cock still in your mouth, you’re suddenly pulled off by the hand on the back of your head as Steve leans down to heavily make out with you, not caring that your mouth had just been on his cock. “I need to taste you”, he demands against your mouth, and within seconds, you’re led out over the bed.

His head dips between your thighs, his mouth hungrily eating and sucking away as your back arches, fingers and nails desperately clawing into his hair. “Yes! Sir! Oh my god!”

“Damn right, I’m your god now”, he spoke the words against your clit. Your mind was rushing with the need to agree verbally and yet desperately hold on to his hair.

A cool hand cups your cheek as Bucky tilts your face in his direction, and you open your mouth, accepting his cock as you had done with Steve’s. Bucky isn’t as demanding as he’s fucking your mouth as he rolls his hips carefully so that he’s slowly fucking your throat.

It takes almost no time at all before there’s overwhelming tightness between your legs like everything down there is going to explode. Pulling away from Bucky’s cock, you cry out, “I can’t- it’s too much!”

“Yes, you can. Come for us, Baby,” Steve encouraged as he slipped two fingers into your wet pussy, curling them to hit that perfect spot within. That was all you needed to both cum and relax all your muscles between your legs, and without shame, you could feel the bed soaking beneath you as Steve and Bucky cheered you on, “That’s it, squirt for us! Damn, you’re so beautiful”.

The breath is knocked out of you by the time the waves of pleasure have subsided. However, your arousal is still at a ten as Steve’s arms circle beneath your body, and you’re now koalaed around him. Arms around his shoulders and ankles crossed behind his back.

“Steve!” your head tips back as the thick length of him slowly enters your pussy. No matter the number of times the two of you fucked, there was never a time when you weren’t shocked by how full you felt with him inside of you.

“Feels so good to be inside of you. Do you think you can still take Buck?”

“Yes, please, sir, I need you both inside of me”.

The warmth of Bucky’s chest finally surrounds your spine as he kisses the junction between your shoulder and neck. “Easy there, got to be careful when slipping this big dick in this tight little hole back here”, Bucky teases as you feel the head of his cock pressing against your asshole.

Your head tips back and rests on his shoulder, mouth gaping open with a constant string of curses and pleads. Much like with his fingers, the initial burn mixing with the pleasure is the perfect mix as the head of his cock gently breaches your warmth.

“You’re so fucking wet and tight”, Bucky moans against your neck as you take inch after inch of him until you’re stretched and full of them both.

The first orgasm with both of them fucking you at the same time is enough to nearly have you passing out again as you continue to squirt until there’s a small puddle on the floor.

The second orgasm has every nerve in your body feel as if it’s burning with pleasure. You’re entirely limp in their arms, but they’re holding you up with firm hands on your thighs and waist. By the third orgasm, you were hardly coherent as both men finally joined you in that blissful state, their cum filling your used holes and dripping into the puddle below.

It was hard for you to stay awake as they carefully cleaned you with warm wash clothes and fresh clothing. You’re thoroughly wrapped in their arms as the three of you settle into the centre of the bed.

“I’m so happy to be yours”, you admit tiredly before sleep takes you.

#mafia!stucky #mafia au #stucky x reader #stucky smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #marvel smut #mine*

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gffa · 2 months ago

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I'm still trying to navigate my way through the absolute avalanche of Arcane fic, but I am here to scream at everyone about the fics I've loved so far and try to drag a few more of you down into this hellpit of feelings with me. It's nice down here, I promise! Totally normal and with soooo many hinges, nothing off a single hinge here!

JAYVIK RECS:

✦ To love is to risk the soul's quiet by Disguised_Bird, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 32.7k When an anomaly suddenly transports an older, scarred version of Jayce into the Jayce of Viktor's timeline, the two must navigate the strange collision of past and future while grappling with feelings neither fully understands. As they work late into the night to find a way to send Jayce back, tension turns into intimacy, pushing Viktor to confront vulnerabilities he has spent a lifetime burying.

✦ Say My Name by Acryllic, jayce/viktor, NSFW, eventually post-canon, 77.2k wip “Tell me now if you don’t want this.” He stroked Viktor’s bottom lip with his thumb, “Keep saying my name if you do.”

✦ This ain't goodbye no more, it just began by SirCumference, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 7.1k After he and Viktor save the world, Jayce wakes up in his old bed on the day it all started. Things are different, this time.

✦ first times, second goodbyes by tragicperformer, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 1.6k “What do you mean pull out?” He teases, the corners of his lips quirking up into a stupid, dopey grin. “I have separation anxiety.” “Yes, I know,” Viktor intones. “We were just discussing this. It is why I’m currently visiting you, rather than focusing on my duties back in the commune.” “Yeah. And when I pull out, you’re going to leave again,” Jayce rationalizes. Not entirely incorrect. “Just a few minutes. Please, Vik? Let me pretend for a little longer.”

✦ The Threads of Our Mind by Darling_Pigeon, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 3k Snapshot of Jayce and Viktor’s new life of exploration after the finale: Viktor helps Jayce adjust to his brace, but they discover they may be connected in another, strangely magical way.

✦ Time For Space by yurikazen, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 6.6k First, there’s a wave of blinding light, tearing through the cosmos like a free-falling comet. Then, Jayce opens his eyes to find a smooth, unfamiliar ceiling above his head. (Jayce dies, holding Viktor close to him, yet death is just another beginning.)

✦ two left feet by ChiliCheeseCornDog, jayce/viktor, 4k Jayce rises from his seat, face set with a soft smile, and holds out his right hand with the palm facing up. “Let me teach you how.” The pause is long and unrelenting. “You are joking,” Viktor manages to say. or: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance, Piltover-style.

✦ destabilise by antiparticular, jayce/viktor, 3.6k Jayce was naked and in Viktor's bed. Don't get him wrong - Viktor had dreamed of this happening, both literally and on slow days in the lab when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent, but for it to manifest outside of his overactive imagination? He was half tempted to pinch himself to check he'd actually awoken. Why was Jayce Talis in Viktor's bed? And more pressingly, why did Viktor not remember?

✦ Run It Back Again by Withercrown, jayce/viktor & vander/silco & cast, 18.9k wip Sometimes there's nothing you can do except scrap the whole experiment and start over. The worst possible outcome becomes an opportunity for a new beginning. Viktor and Jayce, estranged enemies in a brutal war, go back to the start - and then earlier than that. The key to their salvation ends up being an undercity brat named Silco. He's not quite the person they remember.

✦ Electric Desires by abisbookcase, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 1.2k Viktor gets an important phone call in the middle of sex, and Jayce keeps fucking him roughly, trying to make him slip up while he talks.

✦ Between gears and parties by chaosheadspace, jayce/viktor, 3.6k "Why do you think it is so hard for people like me to get a footing here?" Viktor asks. "Aside from the obvious classism, of course. I'll tell you. Bureaucracy. Do you know how difficult it is to even find a place to live without a last name up here?” Or: Jayce wants to save his partner some trouble and gets them married on paper.

ZAUNDADS RECS:

✦ Take Me Like You Mean It by Anonymous, vander/silco, NSFW, 2k Young! Silco and Vander have sex in the alleyway behind the last drop after closing.

✦ Mr Eye of Zaun by limeta, vander/silco & jinx & vi & cast, 28.8k wip Mylo and Claggor would say there’s nothing that scares Vi. She can dish out punches and evade danger better than anyone. She’s their fearless leader, always ready to take them on a job and back without losing anyone. It’s that level of assurance that they have in her, that confidence she exudes, that makes them trust and believe in her. But they’re wrong. Powder knows there’s something that scares Vi. And that’s because it scares Vander. Or: Silco reads the letter Vander left in the mines and sticks around as a boogeyman in the Last Drop.

✦ let fall the world by perfidiousalbion, vander/silco, nsfw, 4.2k Or: before it all went wrong, Silco and Vander had something good.

✦ The Lives of Others by Lilbaebloo, vander/silco & ekko & benzo, NSFW, 5.1k Ekko drops an emotional grenade on Silco and Vander when he brings up their fated night at the river thirteen years earlier. The plunge into the past reminds them both of how far they've come, together and apart, and what they have to keep living for.

✦ The Shore From Which I Fell by ClutchHedonist, vander/silco, NSFW, 1.2k “I knew you still had it in you.” Silco’s mouth tastes of ash. His tongue, tacky and dry with the suffocating weight of it, threatens to stick to the roof of his mouth as his lips fall shut. He does his best to swallow past the whisper of bruising already blossoming in his throat where Vander’s broad hand has yet again left its mark.

✦ Night Business by spicedrobot, vander/silco, NSFW, rough sex, 2.6k The rulers of Zaun play a game.

✦ While the world turns around by Blue_Daddys_Girl, vander/silco & jinx & benzo, 8.9k In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

TIMEBOMB RECS:

✦ Little Crow by shroomyystar, ekko/jinx, 2.1k There’s a monster under his bed.

✦ Let's Give It One Last Try by the_whole_shebang, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 12.3k The war is finally over, and Ekko is finally home, but an old friend has one more favor to ask of him. Jinx found the strength to walk away, but something told her not to let go just yet. Maybe if Vi and Ekko hadn't given up on her yet, then she wouldn't either. Plus, thanks to Ekko, she was starting to think that the past wasn't as set in stone as she though it was.

✦ Let Me Try by Blue_Daddys_Girl, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 4.3k Ekko walks away from the final battle in a daze after learning that Jinx is dead. Or: An alternate ending to the show, in which she isn't, no matter what Vi believes.

SOMETIMES THE SHIPS AREN'T THE POINT RECS:

✦ wait 'til your sister sees where you've been by QwahaXahn, vi & jinx & cast, post-canon, 12.9k OR: Jinx falls. The bomb explodes. Everything goes white. ...And Vi wakes up in a different world.

✦ was it the worst you'd never know by Anonymous, jinx & silco, 2.2k “Fix him,” she demands, voice barely decipherable through the breaking and raspiness from crying. Gentle, gentle, as gentle as Singed knows how to be, which is not very. Jinx will have no qualms killing him if he steps wrong. “He is… very far gone.” And indeed he is. His chest does not rise, and his eyes are vacant. He is gone. “FIX. HIM.” aka jinx refuses to let her father die and brings him to singed. it goes better than expected

✦ Six Weeks Since by argonautoida, jinx & viktor, 2.1k Six weeks after Silco died, Jinx finally makes a friend.

#lumi.txt #arcane #jayvik #zaundads #timebomb #fic recs #arcane fic recs

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subbmissivesuccubus · 1 year ago

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Breeding – Gyomei X Fem Reader.

Will slowly be releasing my Kinktober fics hehe. Of course, if you don't want to wait and would like to read all of them, check out my Patreon! (link in bio) they are very good and very very spicy <3

Summary : You and Gyomei try for a baby. That's it. That's the fic.

You gulped as you tried to not let your nerves effect you but failing as you jittered on your bed. Every single noise that came from within your house made you jump before you realised it was nothing, and definitely not the person you were waiting for.

You knew it was only a matter of time before your husband showed up, the man always punctual and never negotiating coming home to his wife. It was a bit odd, of course, having to wait for your husband to come home when the sun rose, but you had quickly gotten used to waking up early. Afterall, how could you sleep when your lover was out there, fighting for his life everyday to slaughter man-eating demons?

Your routine with the man was simple. He’d go out at night to do his duty and come back when the sun rose, tired but proud of a successful day of slaying demons. And you couldn’t be prouder to be called his wife. The first thing you’d both do when he arrives home is fill his belly with some nice, warm and comforting food before he took you in his arms and slept, recovering from the exhaustion of a long night. And of course, if you’re feeling particularly needy, he’d make love to you before getting some shut eye, your husband often just as desperate for you as you are for him.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, you were not waiting for him with warm food and the promise of good sleep.

Not yet anyway.

You jumped as you heard the telltale sound of your door unlocking just as the sun started to rise.

Never a minute late.

Familiar footsteps padded through the house, each stomp making your body grow hotter. You heard him call out for you; the man clearly confused as to why you didn’t greet him as you usually did. You responded back to him by letting him know you were in the bedroom. As his footsteps got closer, your body grew hotter and hotter and you couldn’t help but jump as the door to the room opened.

Your husband walked in, tall and handsome and oh so muscular, looking adorable with the slight confused expression on his face. “Darling?” he called out.

“H-How was work today?” you asked, wanting to make sure he was alright first.

“It was fine.” Gyomei said, “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Not even a scratch.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You knew Gyomei was an incredibly strong man but even he wasn’t immune to injury or even death.

“What’s going on, my love?”

“Well, um…” you said, feeling incredibly shy once more as the attention was brought back onto you, “I…wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Yes?” Gyomei asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“It’s about…what you said yesterday…”

Gyomei was about to fall asleep, his face resting on your chest as you spoke to him, your voice often comforting him and lulling him into slumber. You were telling him random stories about what you did during the day, talking about a particular story where you were playing with the neighbourhood kids. Right before he was about to fall asleep, arms wrapped tightly around you, you heard Gyomei whisper something:

“I want…a baby…”

“You…You said you wanted a baby.” You reminded, feeling your ears turn red, “and- well- I’d like one too.”

“Oh.” Gyomei said, his hesitation making your blood run cold. Did you misunderstand? Or maybe he thought about it and decided he actually didn’t want kids. Or-

The man brought a hand upto his face and you felt your anxiety melt away as he tried to hide his blushing face but failing to cover up his red ears.

“You didn’t say anything so I thought that you didn’t want to talk about it…” he confessed, “But you’re right. I want to have kids with you.”

You gulped, blushing like a virgin. This was ridiculous! You were married to this man for so long and yet, he still makes you feel like a teenager whose crush smiled in her direction.

“Is that why you were waiting for me here?” Gyomei asked, a hint of a smile on his face, “You want us to get started right away?”

“Well- that’s- um-“ you sputtered, fanning your blushing face, “If you’re not too tired- oh!”

You gasped as Gyomei suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed, making you fall back onto the mattress. You squealed as your husband crawled onto the bed as well, his tall, hulking figure towering over you. He had already taken off his haori and was just in his uniform which he knew you found attractive on him.

“I can go on for hours more, my love.” He said, a hand coming up to thumb at your lips, “question is, can you?”

~~~~~

“Mmph- ah- fuck- ah!”

Gyomei growled as he lifted his head from where he was buried between your legs, his lips wet from your juices. “Don’t muffle your moans.” He ordered.

“B-But I’m so loud-“ you whined, pushing your hand away from your mouth.

“I know. Be loud for me.”

With that, he lowered his head again, making your squeal as his hot tongue made contact with your pussy once more. Two fingers stuffed inside your dripping hole, he gently fingered you open, preparing you to take his cock. Even after all these years, Gyomei refused to fuck you unless he gave you can orgasm beforehand and making sure your body could take his girth with the least amount of pain. Despite you telling him that you had gotten used to his size, he refused to change the routine and hey, why would you ever complain about that?

He moaned as he drank you up, your taste like a drug to him. Not having the gift of sight enhanced Gyomei’s other senses which meant your taste, your scent, your moans and the feeling of your hot cunt against his mouth were all the more addicting. Shaking his head from side to side, his ran his tongue all over your pussy before settling on your clit.

“Ah! Honey- oh!” you moaned out loud, a hand coming down to grab his hair. You shivered as you felt him growl against you, his lips sealing around your clit before giving it a harsh suck. “Oh fuck- ah- gonna- gonna cum!” you announced, voice high pitched and whiney as he ate you out like you were a delicious meal, his fingers curling just right and teasing your g-spot.

“Cum for me, my love.” Gyomei said, tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, “Cum in my mouth~”

“Ah- yes- yes- oh- cumming!”

With a shout, you climaxed, back arching and toes curling as your orgasm washed over you. Your thighs clamped around Gyomei’s head which the man loved, still eating you out as you rode your orgasm on his fingers and tongue. The room was filled with moans and the sound of slobbering, his cock dripping in his pants as he heart your sweet cries of ‘yes’ and ‘more-‘. Your orgasm tasted like nectar and the sharp pain of you pulling at his hair was addicting. Gyomei truly loved eating you out and he’d do it for hours if you’d let him.

Eventually, you came down from your high, your back colliding with the mattress once more and your legs relaxing. You pushed at Gyomei’s head, a silent plea for him to stop mouthing at your pussy, the man still licking up your juices and thrusting his fingers. With another kiss to your clit, he slowly pulled himself away from your cunt, sitting on his knees and his fingers slowly pulled out of you. You blushed heavily at the squelching sound, your cunt so unbelievably wet that you knew you were staining the sheets.

But your pussy somehow grew wetter when you saw your husbands bulge throb against his pants. Gyomei had already taken his shirt off beforehand, right after he had stripped you naked, and was only clad in his baggy pants that didn’t do nearly enough to hide his erection. You gulped down your drool as you stared, your pussy throbbing for him and your womb aching for his seed.

Gyomei didn’t need his sight to know that you were staring, the man smiling as his hands found their way to his belt. “Are you ready, my love?” he asked as he started to undo the material, groaning as he grew more excited, “Ready for me to put a baby in you?”

“Yes-“ you said with no hesitation, “I’m ready- I need you-“

“And you’ll have me.” Gyomei said, ripping his belt off and tossing it aside before he started to unbutton his pants, “You’ll have all of me.”

You couldn’t help but slide a hand down your body to lightly pat at your pussy, watching as Gyomei stripped completely. He slid his pants and underwear down together and you started to drool as his dick popped out. A long and girthy cock with delicious veins that you loved to trace with your tongue and a pair of heavy, full balls that you always wanted to be drained inside you.

Once he was completely naked, he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pushed up, pressing your legs against your chest and folding you to his desire. You squeaked at the embarrassing position; your puffy cunt even more exposed that before as he caught you in a mating press.

“Ready?” Gyomei asked, bringing one hand to the base of his cock to slap his dick against your cunt, making the both of you moan from the contact. He started to rub his cock up and down your slit, gliding it between your pussy folds with no resistance, his member getting coated in your juices.

“I’m ready. I’m so ready.” You said, not even caring about how desperate you sounded, “Fuck me- breed me, my Darling.”

Gyomei smiled before he pressed the head of his member against your hole, teasing it a bit before he slowly started pushing in. You whined, tossing your head back against the pillow as you felt the familiar burn of Gyomei stretching your pussy, bullying his way inside you. Your wetness helped as his cockhead popped inside you, already taking your breath away.

Gyomei groaned as he felt your cunt squeeze him, the man never getting tired of this feeling as he continued to push and push and push, burying inch after inch into your sweet pussy. His hand left his dick to once again, press your leg against your chest, keeping you nice and folded for his cock to reach as deep inside you as it could.

Both of you moaned as he finally bottomed out, the man so long and fat that you felt like you couldn’t breathe. His cock always took your breath away- always rendered you speechless. Gyomei was in no better position, your pussy squeezing his dick like a vice and no doubt, he’d have to fight against your hot, velvety walls if he wanted to fuck you silly.

And he was going to fuck you silly.

Making sure you were ready, he used his hold on your legs and leverage as he slowly pulled out before slamming back in, making you scream. The man was immediately kissing your cervix, his cock so, so deep inside you it made your head spin. Again and again and again- Gyomei pulled out and thrust back in, each time getting smoother as your bodies got used to each other.

“Fuck- fuck- yes!” you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sensation of your husband fucking you open on his fat cock, “So good- faster darling-“

“As you wish, my love.” Gyomei said, obeying you as he picked up the pace. He grit his teeth as he set a fast rhythm, fucking his cock deep inside you, your wet pussy feeling heavenly against him. He always wanted to have children with you but never found the appropriate time to bring it up. With his past as someone who looked after kids, he still had the desire for a big, happy family. If you were willing, he was ready to breed you over and over and over again, ready and eager to have multiple children with you.

His balls clapped against your pussy, the impact making you tighten around him. Your moans were music to his ears, your fingers digging into the skin on his forearms barely noticeable in comparison to the feeling of your cunt. You babbled out sweet nothings, cries and pleas for more along with words of love for your husband and Gyomei wondered how he got so lucky.

“Oh yes- so big- Darling- so good!” you squealed, toes curling as his cock fucked you mercilessly, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air and making you dizzy. The intimacy and love you felt from Gyomei whenever you made love or even fucked like animals made your heart swell. Seeing him above you, sweat marring his handsome face and his sculpted, strong body holding you down as he fucked you- his abs contracting each time he thrust inside you- his strong thighs flexing as he pounded your pussy- the veins on his arms as he pressed your legs down- everything about Gyomei was a work of art and you’d never understand how you got so lucky to be his.

Neither of you paid attention to the time as you continued to fuck with one intention only. Maybe it was half an hour maybe it was two hours- but the both of you reached the edge simultaneously.

“D-Darling-“ you moaned out, voice horse from all the screaming and moaning, “I-I’m close-“

“Me too, my love.” Gyomei groaned out, a deep moan leaving his lips which made your pussy gush, “Fuck-“

Ah, you loved it when you got Gyomei to curse.

“Together-“ you begged, eyebrows furrowed as you watched his cock continue to slam into you, “Let’s cum together!”

Gyomei nodded, putting more force behind his thrusting as he reached as deep as he could go, the familiar knot on his abdomen threatening to break. “Be a good wife and get pregnant for me, ok?”

“Mmhmm!” you hummed, nodding enthusiastically as he picked up the pace, going even faster than before, “P-Put a baby in me, Gyomei! K-knock me up!”

“Anything for you.”

The room was filled with the filthy noise of the two of you desperately fucking, getting each other to reach their climax. His balls slapped against you, his sweat mixing with your own, your bodies craving for release. And finally, finally- you got it.

The two of you moaned as you both climaxed together, the sensation heavenly. You gasped and whined and mewled as your cunt gushed, cumming all around Gyomei’s cock. Your pleasure was fueled by the sensation of your husband unloading inside you, his balls clenching as he pumped rope after rope of his seed deep inside you, flooding your womb with his cum. He held you down, keeping you in place as he milked himself of every drop. He was getting you pregnant, that’s for sure.

Gyomei tossed his head back as he pushed his hips flush against yours, growls of pleasure leaving his lips and pleasure overtook him. His body shivered and his muscles tensed, moaning as your pussy throbbed around him, squeezing him dry which he was more than happy to oblige with. “That’s it- oh yeah- take my cum~” he panted out as he slowly rolled his hips, making sure to get his sperm deep inside you, not taking any chances.

Eventually, when both of you were done cumming and were brought back down to reality, Gyomei leaned down, cock still inside you and kissed you. You moaned and wrapped your arms around him, groaning against his lips as he gently let go of your legs, allowing you to stretch your muscles. But you simply wrapped your legs around his waist, making sure to keep him inside you as your lips danced against his.

“I love you.” He whispered against you as he broke away from you for a second before he kissed you again, tongue massaging your own. You kissed him back just as passionately, conveying your love for him with action rather than words, especially since Gyomei didn’t seem interested in pausing your makeout session even if it was to hear you say you love him.

But you did love him. So very much.

And you figured you could enjoy this moment as the second he allows you to breathe, you’re going to ask him for another round and another load of cum.

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