Withered Cards | III

Withered Cards | III

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.

Summary: Despite the many different problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.

Series Masterlist

"Mistakes are not something you can afford to make, Jason," Bruce commented, though his gaze was trained on the screen before him. "I told you this was an intel mission. You should have waited for my queue."

Jason adjusted his position on the chair he was currently sat on, his gaze burning into Bruce's back the longer he continued to stare at the projective computer before him. The tape that he had collected from the mission played on repeat, and truthfully, it was becoming painful for Jason having to rewatch it over and over.

Yes, he had been given strict orders to merely stay hidden within the shadows and report back to Batman with the intel he was instructed to gather, but Jason wanted to do more than be a sidekick to gather information.

“How was that a mistake?” He retorted, pointing to the screen. “If I hadn’t gone, you would have never known what was happening down there.”

Finally, Bruce turned in his chair, his voice just as deep as always. Like a parent scolding his child - which was true to an extent.

"You're telling me that you found out what that whole ordeal was about?" He questioned, gesturing a hand to the screen. "Because it sure doesn't look like you do."

It angered Jason more than he would have liked to admit that Bruce was mostly right. The most Jason knew was that the Joker was up to something, but when was he not? The best possible answer he got was that he has an alliance of some sort. You seemed to be around his age, possibly younger, and yet you were one of the most skilled fighters he's fought. You were experienced, and no doubt deadly.

His nose ached from the harsh punch that you had thrown, the wet rag that was now soaked with crimson blood was discarded beside him.

When Bruce noticed his silence, he continued to ignore him from then on. His fingers dancing along the computer and leaving an uncomfortable silence that Jason wished to break.

Alfred walked in with a tray of coffee; something Bruce had waved him off to go and grab whilst he worked. Whilst the silence lingered, Alfred's gaze flickered up to the screen of the masked girl.

"I do not recognize this criminal," Alfred spoke as he settled the tray down. "Have we seen this girl before?"

Bruce shook his head, a frown etched on his features. "No, but there have been witnesses. Apparently, she's only shown up around Gotham the past two months."

Alfred hummed. “And what does this criminal do, exactly?”

Bruce pushed his body away from the desk with a long sigh, his brows still pinched into a deep frown as his hand dragged down his face. “Jason’s body cam just managed to pick up a little of their conversation before she ran off. The Joker is in on this, too. She knows him, and well.”

Jason's curiosity was piqued. What was the Joker's intentions, now? Surely it was another scheme to lure Batman into a trap.

“Perhaps another laughing gas?” Alfred suggested as he glanced over at Jason, gesturing toward the tea as he offered to pour some, but Jason shook his head.

"Not a laughing gas," Jason concluded, digging into the suit that he still wore. He pulled out the familiar vial that he had managed to snatch from the masked girl, holding it up for everybody's view. "I'm thinking maybe a drug, or maybe some sort of crazy mutation serum!" He looked between the two, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Bruce remained silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving the vial in his son's hand. Jason was expecting praise, a congratulations, maybe even a pat on the back and allowed more freedom whilst on patrol. But Bruce's face remained stoic.

"Jason," he started, tone very far from what he had expected. Was it anger? Disappointment? Shock?

He was quick to saunter over and take the vial from his hand, analyzing it carefully as he twisted it in his grasp.

With a shake of his head, his frown deepened. If that were even possible. He placed the vial carefully onto the desk beside the computer.

"You're too reckless," he began. "Not only did you go against my orders, but now you are involved with a crime much deeper than what you can handle. You've put yourself in danger. And not only yourself," he pointed to the screen again. "But you got her in danger, too."

Jason felt his anger boil, ready to spill over any second. Could Bruce not see his success for once? Could he not give him the approval he desperately wished for? It was risky, but he had got the job done.

"I did what I had to," he defended, the anger evident in his voice as he took a step closer.

Bruce quickly snapped back. "And what you did was wrong."

A pause.

"Next time something like this happens, you follow my order... otherwise the title of Robin goes to somebody else."

In the heat of his rage, Jason stormed past both Bruce and Alfred and made his way out of the Batcave, cape flowing behind him with every long stride. Before the door had slammed shut, he just managed to hear a little of Alfred's voice.

"They're both just children, Master Wayne," he tried. "Much like you once were."

"I can't have him making more mistakes."

A harsh slap landed against your cheek, your head snapping to the side from the force. The burning sensation left behind caused for your eyes to sting with tears, your vision blurred.

His maniacal laughter was all you could hear despite the ringing in your ears, and you didn't fail to notice the very evident annoyance behind each deep inhale of laughter.

"I can't believe it!" Joker paced. "You really let that little rodent slip past your fingers, just like that? My, my, I might have placed just a little too much faith in you."

He crouched down before you, masking a frown as his thumb came up to swipe the blood from your lip. Your tongue darted out to swipe at the cut he had left, the metallic taste lingering in your mouth.

"I must say I am very disappointed," Joker hummed, but oddly enough his hand came to rest on your shoulder, like an odd way of comforting. "But that's why there's always room to learn from mistakes!"

The vial that you were sent to retrieve merely a few hours ago was no longer tucked away safely in your pocket.

You had only realized once you were in front of Joker's latest warehouse that he used as a current hideout, your hands searching every pocket, each shoe, in search for the vial. Robin had managed to slip it out without you noticing, and it enraged you.

He was fast, skilled, and very obviously sly. Although it was a tough fight, it brought some adrenaline and excitement into your night. Something you had craved for a while.

Joker clicked his tongue in thought, now sat on a torn couch across from you with his leg propped up on his knee.

"You'll make it up to me, right, my little clown?" his tone was almost mocking. "Perhaps next time you might run into the little birdy again, oh, that would spice things up!"

You inhaled a shaky breath. "I'll get it back," you said, but he waved you off.

"Nah, I'll just get the doc to make me a new one. Although, we can't afford any more mistakes now, can we, Y/N?"

He looked at you expectingly, dread washing over you the longer his gaze pierced your own.

"No, we can't."

"That's my girl!" He clapped his hands. "Harley! Come get the poor girl cleaned up, will ya? She looks like she's been through hell!" He let out a loud cackle at what he considered a joke, slapping his knee.

Harley's head popped from around the corner of the cracked wall, pigtails swinging with every movement she made. With one look at you, she was rushing over.

"Puddin, what happened?" She practically squealed, ushering you to stand up, though the small smile never left her lips. "Oh dear, let's get you all nice and cleaned up!"

The bathroom that she had practically dragged you into smelt of urine and had broken tiles scattered across the floor. Mold was growing along the ceiling and puddles of water crowded at the base of the sink. You had to hold back the look of disgust when Harley took a small rag and wet it under some water.

It wasn't long until Harley was finally finished with dabbing your split lip with the cold water and tending to the few cuts you had littered over your flesh. It was a poorly done job, but the moment you had got to step into your own small room - a storage space that barely managed to fit the worn mattress you used to sleep on, you were instantly flopping down.

It was quiet and dark, but nothing that you weren't already used to. You enjoyed having some time away from the two clowns, after all.

Looking over, you reached for the same small bear that you've kept over the years, only now it wasn't as soft as it used to be, and the familiar smell of your old home was gone from the fur. Instead, it was now covered in dirt and grime. A button had been sewn on poorly as an eye after the last had fallen off, and its right arm was barely hanging on by a thread. Still, you carefully held it against your body as you laid on your side, alone and tense.

Your mind refused to settle, thoughts swarming with the Robin boy who had managed to make your night go from alright to horrific in only a few hours.

He had outplayed you - tricked you - and still somehow, he had managed to get your mind swimming. Your fight was oddly thrilling, and it confused you with his cocky comments. Batman was nowhere to be seen, meaning that Robin had let you go. Why?

Your knuckles had tightened their hold on the bear, a reminder of your life before any of this had happened. You didn't dwell on it, knowing that there was no way back. But the sadness lingered once you buried your face into the soft fur, allowing for the sleep to catch up to you. As usual it was never a peaceful one, but instead filled with nightmares and an all too familiar wide grin.

@annabellelee @stormz369

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Study Session

Pairings: Ethan Landry x Reader.

Warnings: MDNI, SMUT, swearing, PIV, switch!Ethan, oral (m receiving), handjob, blowjob, grinding.

Summary: How can he focus on his studies without a clear mind? That’s all Ethan Landry needed.

Everybody who had met Ethan Landry knew of his strong dedication to his studies and high grades.

Whether it be something he enjoys doing or not, he had made it a clear point that he was determined to pass his upcoming Economics Final - even if that meant he’d need to study with you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with you! No, he adored it - loved it even. But how could he possibly stay focused on his work when you were constantly running your mouth at him? You were oblivious, laying on Ethan’s bed with a bored frown etched onto your features, fingers mindlessly picking at the fabric of his bed sheets.

“Ethan,” you had drawled, voice low as you groaned. “How much longer?”

It hadn’t been too long. The last time you had asked, he was sure to let you know he would be at least ten more minutes.

That was twenty-three minutes ago.

With a frustrated sigh, Ethan closed his eyes briefly and leant back onto the headboard, his hands reaching up to rub at his face in annoyance.

“Please, baby. I can’t concentrate when you’re constantly distracting me. I need to get this finished,” was all he said, looking over to the girl who was still lounged carelessly over his sheets. Maybe if it weren’t for the fact that he was running purely on anxiety for the upcoming finals, he might’ve accepted your offer to take a break the first time you had asked.

You sigh as you grudgingly sat up, eyeing him. “When was the last time you slept? I haven’t even seen you once put down your textbook.”

“Last night,” he was quick to answer. “After I was done studying.”

You raised a brow. “And what time was that?”

He didn’t need to answer for you to know it was most likely way later than usual. You could tell from the slight bags under his eyes and the annoyance radiating from him.

“You’re grumpy today, E.”

He let out a long sigh, a pause before he responded. “I’m sorry, alright? But I really need to learn this within the next three days.”

You crawled up to his side when he let out yet another groan, hugging into his side as you inhaled his scent, pressing a small kiss onto his arm, and then another. Slowly trailing the kisses higher to his shoulder.

If he couldn’t learn to take breaks and relax himself, you’d be the one to show him.

“Just a small break, E… just for now,” you pleaded, adjusting your body so that it was now facing him, your soft lips peppering gently over his skin and slowly going up to his neck. “A break is all you need.”

You could practically feel his frustrations slipping away as you sucked at the spot just below his ear, tasting him on your lips as his hot breath brushed her cheek, causing shivers to erupt throughout your body in waves. You were quick to throw a leg over his own, now sitting on top of him so as to not let him pull away. Not that he could now; being far too gone into the many kisses you were littering over his skin.

When you felt his own lips begin to wander, you turned and collided yours against his in a deep kiss. Whilst desperate breaths mingled together, you pulled away briefly to nip at his bottom lip with your teeth, earning yourself a small gasp when his hands began to travel underneath your top.

The sudden desire washed over the both of you, and it was when you pushed against his shoulder that the both of you broke apart.

“Lay down,” you said, watching the way his swollen lips parted as if he was going to speak, but did as he was told nevertheless. He stayed quiet.

He adjusted his body from beneath you so that he was now lying flat on the bed, gazing back up at you with a blush that soon reached his ears.

When you began to grind down onto him through your pants, you could feel the growing erection forming from in his jeans, his attempts at staying quiet long forgotten the more you rocked your hips.

You could feel him against you, hard and straining as you attempted to gain more friction, wetness pooling between your thighs with every sweet moan of pleasure that escaped his lips. Despite his obvious attempts at letting you keep control, his hips subconsciously lift and buck into yours.

“Please, baby,” Ethan moaned as his hands pawed at your thighs, his nails digging into your soft flesh. You couldn’t help but to smile at him.

Your hands were already tugging at his shirt when you said, “Let me take care of you.”

Both of your clothes were off in seconds, tossed onto the floor carelessly and forgotten. It was almost funny to think that Ethan was obviously bigger than you, and yet he still laid a mess beneath your form.

His hair was a matted mess, a thin sheen of sweat glistening off his chest, and his cock lay throbbing and begging to be touched against his abs. The sight of him in such a position caused for warmth to flood throughout your body and travel straight to your core.

Your hand trailed up slowly from his thigh and grasped onto the base of his length, and you watched as his hips bucked up unconsciously into your hand, a moan escaping him as you began to slowly pump him.

You couldn’t help but to admire the deep frown set on his face as he stared at your moving hand, lips parted and inhaling harsh breaths with every small tug you gave. You leant your head down, feeling his gaze on you as his tip grazed your lips.

“Please,” he whined, his hand going to grasp at your hair when you pressed a kiss to the head of his cock. As soon as you felt his hand grasp tighter into your locks, you let out a choked moan as you took him into your warm mouth.

You let his tight grip stay on you as you began to bob your head, ensuring that your tongue swirled along his length and every vein you could find. You took pleasure in hearing his whines and desperate pleas for you to continue, begging you for release.

You pulled back, then took him in further, your eyes watering at the gag threatening to escape. Hallowing your cheeks, you tried your best to do what you knew Ethan loved - and it worked.

Just as he was getting closer to his climax, the slight throb in your mouth telling you he was close, you forced yourself to pull away.

He cried out, his hips lifting in a poor attempt at chasing the friction, cock red and covered in your saliva.

“Fuck, please no, I wasn’t done,” Ethan cried, and you noticed how his cheeks were now flushed and his hair now slightly stuck to his forehead.

You gave him one final kiss, straddling his waist once again as you positioned yourself above him, eagerly guiding his length to your wet entrance.

Ethan had seemed to think you were taking too long, because he jerked his hips as you began to sink down onto him, the both of you letting out breathy moans upon the contact. He started to lift his hips up into you over and over again, and you let him without a second thought. The pleasure soon became overwhelming as you felt his hands grasp tightly at your waist.

Whilst his gaze began to wander, so did his hands. He mindlessly grabbed at whatever he could; that being a hand at your hip and another grasping at your left breast.

“Oh fuck-“ Ethan breathed, his eyes raking over your body with each bounce you made on his dick. The lovestruck grin mixed with his pleasure caused for his eyes to flutter.

He was suddenly pushing his hand against your hip, your movements slowing despite the whine that left the both of you.

“I want to move. Let me do some,” Ethan spoke, and you could only nod as he carefully manoeuvred your body so that you were lying beneath him, his frame now towering over your form as you watched the muscles of his arms flex above you.

He was quick to place himself back inside your cunt and start snapping his hips at a desperate pace, the sound of skin slapping skin and the loud panting filling the small room. Your hands racked at his back, feeling it flex beneath your fingers, and you were sure that if you clawed him any harder, you would have drawn blood.

His face was hidden in the crook of your neck, lips and teeth attacking your flesh and causing your eyes to roll. His smell crowded your senses, and his body was all you could feel. You hadn’t even realised that your legs had gone to wrap around his waist until you were bringing him closer, his moans and whines going straight to your core and another rush of arousal to pool.

You gasped when a particularly harsh snap of his hips met yours. “Please, Ethan!”

Your gaze wandered over his face despite your vision being blurred with tears, his brows drawn in tight concentration and a bead of sweat rolling from his forehead.

His jaw clenched, revealing more of his sharp jawline, and your eyes wandered to find the few hidden moles that littered his skin.

With every small movement Ethan made, his muscles flexed from above you. A part of you wished to reach out and touch them, feel them move beneath your fingers if it weren’t for your hands already preoccupied and clawing at his chest.

His notebooks and laptop were now long gone, fallen off the bed in a heap, yet it didn’t faze either of you, too caught up in the burning pleasure that was catching up.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to go faster or to slow down, and it seemed he didn’t know either - his eyes closed tightly and his hips stuttering, growing sloppier and out of rhythm. He was close, and so were you.

You could feel the coil in your stomach churn, begging for at least a bit more friction, and without another thought your fingers found your clit.

“I’m close,” I moaned, only earning a quick nod of the head from Ethan before his hips were speeding up again. His moans and whines grew louder, adding to your pleasure as his hips stuttered to a jerking halt, both of your climaxes washing over you.

Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head and your hips bucked automatically into his, an attempt at finding any friction to ride out your high. Ethan was shaking above you with his mouth left agape, gaze trained on your face as you both eventually came down.

“Is that why you wanted my attention for so long?” Ethan panted, to which you lazily laughed.

“Am I not allowed to have my boyfriend's attention?”

Ethan merely rolled his eyes but leaned down to press one more kiss to your nose before he carefully pulled out, both of your release spilling out onto the sheets below you.

“We’ll clean it up later,” you told him, pulling him down to lay beside you. “For now I just want you to rest.”

This time, he didn’t think to argue with you, legs tangled together as you gently stroked through his hair with your hand, the rest of the night filled with sweet kisses and care.

Interlinked

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, major character death, blood, war.

Summary: Mattheo Riddle was hated by most, yet you saw more in him than what most could.

Mattheo Riddle knew that he wasn't the most approachable person out there, especially when more than half of the school referred to him as his father's son.

Besides his small group of close friends, anybody else was just another thorn in his side. He had come to learn that despite keeping his distance and reserved personality, he was still seen to be just like his father.

So of course, it was a shock to everybody when you had chosen to sit beside him in potions class away from your usual group of friends.

You hadn't said anything to him, merely sparing him a quick glance and small smile before you were placing your things down quietly onto the desk. He could see your friends in the corner of his eye gawking at you from across the room and silently waving you back over, one of them even going as far to call out to you, yet you paid them no mind and picked up your quill, scribbling down the notes written on the board before the professor continued on with the lesson.

He felt his gaze linger on you longer than he would've liked to admit, brows furrowed before he chose to let the silence thicken.

Mattheo knew then and there that this wouldn't be the last interaction he'd have with you.

It went on like this for a few more days. You coming into class and sitting directly beside him, showing him your bright smile that he desperately wished to hate despite the small warmth it gave him. At this point it became regular routine, and if you ever happened to be late for class Mattheo would ensure that your seat was kept empty.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you.

So once again when Mattheo caught himself staring at your bored expression in class, your head propped up onto the palm of your hand, he decided that for the first time it was time to break the silence.

"Not taking any notes today?" He couldn't help to hide the growing grin on his face when your head nearly snapped toward him, eyes wide as if you were checking that he was in fact talking to you.

You leant back further into your seat, shrugging as you turned to fully acknowledge him whilst also being discreet from the Professor as to not get caught.

"I'm just not really in the mood for it, I guess," you shrugged, giving him a small smile. "It's pretty basic stuff, anyways," you added.

He grinned once again, although this time he put no effort into hiding it. "Of course, one of the best students in class calls it 'basic.'"

He didn’t fail to notice the way your eyes lingered on his smile. He never smiled, really. Maybe the occasional half lipped smile to his few friends he had, but to you, it felt natural. Meaningful.

"It could be basic to you too, if you took notes and gave the lesson your full attention," you teased him, nodding to the board.

"Unfortunately, my attention is elsewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, and despite your attempt at hiding it, Mattheo noticed the obvious blush dusting your cheeks when he flashed you one last smile.

In truth, Mattheo wasn't awful at potions class at all. In fact, he found it to be one of his best subjects. He would never admit that to you, though. Not if it meant that you could continue to tease him about it.

The both of you quickly went silent when Professor Snape turned your way, eyeing mainly Mattheo for a second before he continued to pester poor Neville about what chapter to read from.

Small conversations would be thrown back and forth between the two of you, and Mattheo being himself, of course threw in many flirtatious comments, addicted to the way you'd attempt to change topic and hide the nervousness from him.

It didn't take long for him to realize he was craving for your attention every chance he could get. He found himself looking for you in the corridors and in the main hall when he happened to be walking with his friends, and it didn't fail to go unnoticed by them when his usual bored demeanor would instantly change when talking to you.

You would catch his attention with a bright smile and wave, before your friends were quickly pushing you away to giggle about the situation.

After practically begging you to help him study for the upcoming potions test, despite him not needing the help, he was insistent on getting to spend more time with you.

When you were both sat in the library with the few books you had brought over, Mattheo found himself watching as you concentrated hard on what you were explaining to him, with your brows furrowed and your eyes darting along each printed word on the page. Only it didn't last long when you suddenly closed the book and looked at him expectantly.

"You could at least pretend to be a little more interested, Riddle," you had teased when you discovered he hadn't been listening to you, earning a small chuckle from the boy sat across from you.

"Would it be a surprise to you that something else had taken my interest?" was all he said, watching you closely for a reaction. He caught the slight blush dusting your cheeks.

"You're funny, Riddle." You quickly turned away from him and picked up your book, opening to a random page to save you from the embarrassment of his words. You knew that he had you wrapped around his finger, and he loved it.

Christmas holidays had come, and of course the two of you were sad to go. The many bickering conversations and your smile would have to wait until next year.

"I'll send owls whenever I can, I better get some back, Riddle," you had said, throwing one of your jumpers into your bag as Mattheo sat watching from the common room couch.

He rolled his eyes at the comment, as if it were impossible to do so. "You'll be missing me that much, Princess?"

He caught you halting your movement, and you looked at him.

"Would it be a boost to your ego if I admitted I would miss you?"

He pretended to ponder, but he couldn't hide the grin on his face. "Not entirely sure, I guess were going to find out."

You rolled your eyes once more and zipped up your bag. "Then if it makes you feel better, I will miss you, Mattheo."

Nothing felt it had sunk in until you were stood on the platform to the train, Mattheo at your side and bags in hand. You would both be going to your homes, and the several months of friendship the two of you had built together would not make it easy for the next few to come.

Your father had insisted to pick you up himself, claiming he couldn't wait long enough for the train to arrive. Unfortunately, this would mean Mattheo would go by train alone.

So, when the both of you were saying your final goodbyes, of course it had surprised him to feel your lips press against the corner of his mouth.

You patted his cheek twice, to which he just silently gawked at you.

"See you soon, Theo," you smiled before turning away to find your father who was waiting somewhere nearby.

He watched you walk off, and without another thought he was turning on his heel and stepping on to the train.

Then he was gone.

Mattheo never sent a letter, and the months seemed to drag on the longer you waited. Every day you would run outside of your family home to check the mail, expecting, hoping, to see that he finally sent you a message. You couldn't deny the embarrassment every time you opened the mailbox to see it empty. Your hope was fading, but still, there was the smallest tinge of hope left deep in you.

You thought that maybe you were overthinking things too much. He did say he had plans for the holidays, after all. Your owl would wait by the window ready for you to clip another letter to her neck once again and fly off the moment you opened the window. No matter how many times you would send a letter, deep down you knew you wouldn't receive one back.

When school was finally about to start up again the coming week, you were beyond excited to see Mattheo again, despite the fact of his lack of letters. You were sure there was a reasonable explanation!

As he sat in one of the carriages in the train, his eyes zoned out of the window and watching the fog clouding the terrain, his memories flooded back in and for a moment he swore he felt a sharp sting on his forearm. Glancing down at the Dark Mark printed pure black, he remembers the exact moment his father had pressed the tip of his wand to his flesh and the searing pain that followed.

He felt as if the holidays had been the slowest they'd ever been. Being stuck in the same building as the Dark Lord feels like that, he concluded.

He was drawn away from his thoughts when he heard the carriage door slide open, and he wasn't surprised to see your face peeking in through the door with your usual smile, only it was brighter than he'd ever seen it.

Despite him not sending you letters; you were beyond happy to see him again.

Ignoring your excitement, you met his gaze and gestured to the seat across from him. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Truthfully, he wished for some alone time to dwell on his thoughts. He didn't need you or anybody else trying to strike up conversation with him, especially after he had been mostly ignoring your letters and leaving them stranded in piles upon his desk. The slight annoyance began to bubble in his chest, yet he gave a curt nod and continued to stare out the window.

You seemed to have caught onto his behavior, the awkwardness settling in once you closed the door behind you and watched in silence.

Your mind was swarming with questions you desperately wished to ask him - What did he do during the holidays? Why was he acting like this? Did he miss you?

You inhaled a breath before asking the question you had been craving to ask the most.

"You never sent me any letters over the holidays?" You regretted mentioning it the moment the words slipped your lips, and you bit the inside of your cheek when you heard a deep inhale come from Mattheo.

"Things get busy," was all he said, and the pang in your chest that followed caused for you to try think of anything else. He refused to look at you, and that only made the pang worsen.

"Oh, that's alright," you nodded, teeth pressing deeper into the skin of your bottom lip. "What did you do over your holidays?"

Mattheo shrugged, and you wished that he could just meet your eye the longer he stared blankly out the window.

"Nothing of much importance."

His bluntness to you confused you. Never had Mattheo attempted to be so short and bored with you, even when you were both at the awkward stage of just becoming friends. You took it as a sign to sit in silence the rest of the train ride back to Hogwarts, feigning it'll be back to normal once you're both settled into the regular routine again.

The longer the days passed at Hogwarts, the more Mattheo found himself hating your presence. You were always there - always following him like a lost puppy or trying to strike up conversation. He didn't want you here. Not at the moment. He couldn't.

You didn't fail to realize this either, firstly it being small things like the previous conversation on the train a few weeks ago. But then you found that Mattheo was physically avoiding you, changing seats to be on the opposite side of the class, leaving the dining hall whenever you attempted to sit with the rest of your friends. He never saved your seats anymore; even going as far as to make sure he was sat between other classmates to avoid you being near him.

You did miss him, but you also weren't one to push boundaries. Especially when it came to somebody you cared about as much as him.

You had tried to give him space, tried to give him time to come to you, but your own emotions were clouding, and you just wanted your old Mattheo. You had made sure to find Mattheo when he was alone, gently tugging on his arm and pleading for him to talk to you.

"Can't you just fuck off already? I don't need you here. You're a constant pain, how don't you see that?! I thought you would have gotten the hint ages ago!" He'd practically screamed in your face, and you had never felt more mortified than you did right now.

"Thats not what I'm trying to do at all, Theo-"

"You need to leave me the fuck alone, Y/N!"

He hated you. He hated you for making him feel this way. It was your fault. for making him care about anything in the first place, and it was your fault that he despised you for it. And most of all, he hated you for making him love you.

He could never forget the look on your face when he stood beside his father at the war, the tears seeming as if they were rivers along your dirty cheeks, cuts littering your body. Despite all that, in your pain seeing him, he still wondered how you had managed to stay beautiful even in these circumstances. Even with the blood from your wounds, you seemed like the brightest person here.

He so desperately wished to reach out a brush away the bloodied strands of hair away from your face, to apologies for everything. He couldn't stand the way your heartbroken gaze was practically burning into his soul.

Then the flash of green and a heavy thud echoed.

He hadn't even registered the war around him as he darted forward, tripping over his own legs as he dropped to his knees and cradled your body. He couldn't even hear his own wails and sobs over the screaming of his classmates.

He wished he hadn't looked down to the sight of you in his arms, because as soon as he did, he felt as if he had been stabbed in the chest. Your body was limp against him, your head lulled back to which he carefully readjusted his body to keep his arm supporting your neck. He could barely see with the tears cascading down his face and blurring his vision - some even dropping down onto your cheek and rolling off the slopes of your jaw. He quickly whipped it off with his thumb.

This couldn't be how you last remembered him, could it? He was pressing his forehead to your cold one the longer the seconds passed.

"You’re not leaving me, Princess, ok?" he was mumbling to you in your ear despite his sobbing. Deep down he knew you were gone, but the lingering hope that you'd flutter your eyes open and smile back up at him was haunting to him. He couldn't resist but to shake your shoulders in hopes that it would be true. "You need to get up now! It's dangerous," he cried longer, and in that moment, he couldn't care less what happened to him beyond that point, because the one thing he truly cared about was now gone.

He would never hear your voice again, your lips pressed against his, or your smile that he secretly wished to see every day. He wished that he could feel your hands running along his hair comfortingly as you whispered sweet nothing to him.

He would never be able to tell you that he did, in fact, read every single one of your letters. That he wished to write back. That he wished to see you every second of the day.

Your last memory of him would instead be of how he betrayed you. Left you, and fought against you in the war. Scared and broken because of him.

It was truly all gone, and he had never hated himself more in that moment.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Jealousy, Jealousy | Part 1

Parings: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Mentions/descriptions of sex, masturbation, swearing, manipulation, dub-con.

Summary: Coriolanus Snow is determined to make you his.

Part 2

The first time Coriolanus had seen you; it was during another one of the Covey's performances at The Hob.

He remembers that night vividly, having been stood at the back of the cramped barn and watching on as Lucy Gray sang one of her many songs with joy, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet with every step people took on the dance floor. The music of the band and the laughter that seemed to echo throughout the room caused for a sickly feeling in him. Despite telling himself that he deserved this night off away from his Peacekeeping job, all he really wished for in this moment was sleep and to be alone.

He debated leaving, his feet already shuffling closer to the door until his eyes were suddenly locked on yours.

It was quick and subtle, most likely to be forgotten in the next minute, but it was there. You had been smiling from ear to ear with your skirt waving around your legs as you danced, clapping along to the beat as you flowed your way around the crowd.

It was until the end of the song came that he realized he had been standing there watching you the whole time.

It was when Lucy Gray was tugging on your upper arm and leading you toward him that he finally allowed himself to move, barely managing a light smile when you and Lucy Gray stopped before him.

"I hate to be the one to disturb your thoughts, Coriolanus, but I knew you would've just loved to meet one of my dearest friends," Lucy Gray smiled, a mischievous gleam in her eyes that caught Coriolanus. When his eyes drifted back to you, he found that you were already smiling up at him, the same smile you had worn whilst twirling around the dance floor.

“I’ve heard lots about you, Coryo,” he didn’t fail to notice the mischief behind the tone of your voice, and upon hearing the nickname, a hot flush overcame him.

It was then that Coriolanus knew you would be his. Whether it was your decision or not.

He had made it his mission to chat to you throughout most of the night, drunk on the sound of your laughs and your gaze gleaming back up at him. So innocent, so stupid, and completely oblivious to the rush of blood going straight into Coryo's pants.

That night once he was back in his silly little cot, sure that the rest of the Peacekeepers were asleep, his hands were eagerly pushing down his pants from his waist, a sigh of relief escaping his parted lips as his hand grasped at his throbbing base.

You flashed in his thoughts. Your skin that was soft against his fingers, your breasts that rose and fell with every breath, your pretty mouth that he wished was sucking him in deeply, then your eyes.

He had to stifle a moan by burying his face into the plush of his pillow, brows squinted in concentration and mouth open in a silent 'o'.

With a few more silent pumps, he held in a gasp as he hit his climax, his spend hitting his sheets in a sticky mess.

The next time he had crossed you was when he was on duty in the merchant's section. He was stood beside a wall, gun held securely in his hands as his eyes observed his surroundings. And despite this, despite the loud chatter and occasional children screaming as they were chased by their friends, he still couldn’t get his mind to focus.

He wants to see you again. Needs to.

He wants to feel your presence, smell your scent once again, hear your soft voice.

It was as if the universe had heard his exact thoughts, because he felt his heart leap once he spotted you within the crowd, dirty dress and small bag at your side, observing the many small stalls around you.

He watched as you held up a piece of bread, offering the lady the few coins you had left over and give that darling smile of yours.

Oh, how he loved it.

He was just about to move from his position to get closer to you, until he halted in his tracks.

A man had strode up beside you, gleaming down at you with a wide smile that you gladly returned, and Coryo couldn’t do anything but watch as his lips pressed against yours, sweet and short, but full of love.

No.

He inhaled hard, teeth clenched and averted his gaze, his eyes travelling anywhere by back to you. You were his, and his only. How dare this man - this pathetic poor man - take you from him? How dare you do this to him.

His hold on his gun tightened, yet he kept his composure. Stood back in his original place, his eyes locked onto your interlocked hands with the man he now hated.

You were his, even if you knew it or not.

His thoughts were quickly snapped away when Sejanus nudged his arm, a concerned frown etched into his features.

“You ok, Coryo? You don’t look too good.”

His annoyance was growing. Did it look like he was ok? Could he not just back off him for once? With only a small nod, Coriolanus inhaled a sharp breath.

“I just need a minute. I saw something weird at the back, might check it out,” was all he said before he began to walk off, ignoring the confused look Sejanus gave him.

When Coryo made it to the back of the markets, he found that nobody was there. Only stacks of crates and old broken pieces of wood.

Ripping his helmet off, he ran a hand through his blonde hair and clenched his fists.

It had been a few minutes with him just basking in the silence. He needed this. He needed a break, but still, he didn’t open his mouth once he felt a presence beside him.

Your presence.

You didn’t say anything, obviously aware of the change in his demeanor, yet you stayed at his side. He had to hold back from pulling you in closer when he felt your fingers graze against his arm, and he opened his eyes to meet your own.

“Coryo? You ok?” You asked gently, almost like a whisper as if anybody could hear.

He couldn’t help but to let a small grin escape.

“Fine,” was all he said, watching as your fingers traced up and down his arm in rhythmic patterns.

So oblivious, yet so sweet.

You frowned slightly at his answer, unsure of his response.

“I saw you earlier, I was going to say hi but then you walked off and Sejanus said you seemed... off. I was just checking if everything was alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” he was quick to reassure once again, and he didn't mean the sharpness to his tone.

Your smile slowly lit up, and he swore that if you were to look hard enough, you would have seen how his face went flush, how his eyes flickered down to your lips and back to your eyes, yearning.

He couldn't help but to let the question slip. "Was that your boyfriend I saw over there?"

Your smile only grew, and as much as he loved the sight, he wasn't too pleased on as to why.

"Ryan? Yeah, we've been together for a few months now," you had said, looking over your shoulder to see if he was anywhere in sight. He wasn't.

Coryo nodded thoughtfully. "You looked happy."

Not as much as he could make you.

"Oh yes, I am," you smiled, and tugged on his arm. "Let me introduce you!"

He felt his heart pounding against his rib cage when you tugged on his hand, your hand fitting his perfectly.

Hesitantly, he pulled his arm back and out from your grasp.

"Maybe next time," he brushed you off. "I'm still on duty and I'm not feeling the best at the moment," he lied, hiding the fact that he hoped to just keep distance from the man.

Coryo felt a pang of guilt once your face changed from excitement to disappointment, and he resisted the urge to tug your hand back and tell you he'd come purely just for you.

Then the day came he had been dreading since the beginning. He had absolutely no desire nor intention of bumping into the man - but when Ryan had been pushed into Coriolanus' side at another busy night of the Hob, he couldn't have hated it more.

"You're Coriolanus, right? Y/N's told me heaps about you," Ryan said, his arm outstretching in order to give Coryo a handshake, although Coryo merely glanced down at his hanging hand which he awkwardly retrieved back.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Look, uh, mate... I'm glad Y/N has somebody else she can come to, but I can't help but think maybe it's a little... too much."

Coriolanus felt a spike of hatred flaring within his chest. Nothing would ever stop him from getting closer to you, even if it were to be your boyfriend.

He continued. "Just thought that maybe we could tone it down a bit? Y/N likes you, and I don't want to take that friendship from her," he finished.

If Coryo didn't hate this guy before, he definitely did now. He swore his blood would boil over if he was left alone with this guy any longer - maybe even get one of Dr Gauls terrifying mutts to get rid of him. But no, she would never approve, despite her sickened mind, and of course he'd never wish your precious eyes to lay on sight of his mutilated body.

He'd just have to do it himself.

It was him who had to tell you the tragic news, and he watched as your eyes welled in tears and your heart ached, your cries and please for your now ‘ex-boyfriend’ to come back to you were filled with emotion. Coriolanus had to resist the satisfied smile forming upon his lips as you clung to him for support, your face buried in the fabric of his uniform and soaking up your warm tears.

Even when you hiccuped and sobbed, he still saw you as beautiful. All his. He let his fingers weave through your hair and whispered reassuring words into your ear… your body was shaking within his grasp, and Corio couldn’t help but love how much smaller your body was compared to his.

Coryo finally had you, and he loved it.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

StarWars Masterlist

Published:

Anakin Skywalker -

Headcanons

Works In Progress:

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Withered Cards | I

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.

Summary: Despite the many problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.

Series Masterlist

No child would ever imagine the world to be as cruel as it really is.

Yet then again, most adults would refrain from exposing their children into the world, the harsh reality of it, at least, and Gotham was definitely a place of violence and rage.

The small nightmares every child would experience would never live up to the cruel reality of the world.

"Y/N, baby, get up," your mother whispered into your ear, panicked and rushed, causing for your eyes to flutter open.

It was still dark, meaning that it couldn't be morning, but your mother was hunched beside your bed with her fingers trailing through your hair, and that was when your gaze met her own fearful ones.

Her voice was so low in a whisper that you could barely manage to hear, fearful of what - or who - could hear us.

"We need to leave, baby. Come on."

With your eyes still groggy and barely comprehending the situation, your mother's arms carefully scooped your body up from beneath the warmth of your blankets, her grip tight and secure as she adjusted your body in her hold. You didn't fail to notice the heavy thumping of her chest and the pale complexion to her face.

“Mummy?” You asked, but she was quick to hush you, her gaze burning into the door with a look of terror you would never forget.

She waited, as if she were expecting the door to swing open any moment, but it only left the both of you in a deafening silence. Despite the obvious confusion set on your face, your mother chose to ignore it, not giving any indication as to what was occurring on the other side of the door.

With the few passing moments, your grip on her tightened, and the many fearful questions were swarming your mind. You were scared, but of what?

Without a word, she took a single step toward the door with you still held tightly in her arms, and just as her hand went to grasp the handle-

“Mum!” You spoke, too loud for her liking, because she jumped back away from the door as if it had burnt her flesh and clasped a tight hand over your mouth. She listened carefully, and when she was comfortable enough, she took her hand away.

“What did I tell you?” She whispered harshly, but her eyes softened when she saw the fearful gaze you held. “What is it?”

You pointed behind you both, back to your bed where your favorite teddy laid beside the unmade sheets. It was only small, the perfect size for a small child, with soft brown fur and button eyes. You remembered that night your father came home from work, a bouquet of various different flowers for your mother in one hand, and in his other hand he held the brown bear. He had just gone away on a long business trip, and you were overly excited after not seeing him the last few weeks. Maybe it was the fact it was from your dad, or maybe it was simply because of the soft fur, but it was by far your favorite teddy to hold while you slept.

Letting out a long cautious sigh, your mum quickly picked up the bear before giving it to you, your hands instantly going to clutch at the teddy while your mum went back over to the door.

“Ok, sweetheart. I’m going to need you to play a game with me, ok?” She looked down at you, and you nodded despite the darkness of your bedroom, only your lamp casting a small glow around the room.

She smiled gently and gave a quick peck to your forehead.

“Ok, we’re going to see who can be quiet the longest. I know you always beat me, and that’s why when I put you down, you’re going to run and hide so we can do some hide and seek.”

If it weren’t for the dim light, you only just managed to catch a glimpse of the hot tear streaking down your mother's cheek.

“Do you understand, baby?”

You nodded once more, holding a finger up to your lips as your sign you knew you had to be quiet. She let out a quiet breathy laugh.

You watched as she reached forward, her hand shaking as she grasped the door handle and slowly twisted it, pushing the door open. It was dark, the only source of light being the living room light from downstairs. You heard a small muffle of voices, one you recognized to be your father.

You wondered if maybe your dad had decided to play with you, too. Maybe that’s why your mum had been so quiet and told you to hide.

Your mum knelt down, carefully placing you down onto your feet before she stood up to her full height. You thought that it was your time to start hiding, but right as you went to turn, her hand was grasping yours tightly and she was walking down the stairs to where your father and the unknown strangers were.

There was a wall dividing the living room and the stairs, so anybody on the other side wouldn’t be able to see your mother and you crouched down at the bottom of the stairs. You watched as your mother peeked around the corner, probably to check that nobody was looking, because she was quick to pull you along to the other side of the room. You only caught a glimpse of the living room.

Your father was leant up against the kitchen counter, still clad in his pajamas, whilst five men you had never seen before stood beside the dining table. Four of them were each dressed in black, but the one in the middle was wearing what looked to be a clown costume. A purple suit with a weird bow tie, his skin as pale as a sheet of paper that made him look almost sickly. His hair was also a deep green, and for a moment you wondered if you even saw right.

The clown had a huge grin plastered onto his face, almost too wide to be natural, revealing his slightly yellowed teeth.

Your mother pushed you against the wall to remain out of sight, and when she knelt down to your level to get a good look at you, you could see the tears now freely falling from her eyes.

“Ok, my sweet girl. It’s time to hide,” she whispered next to your ear, her breath tickling your skin.

You nodded, and that’s when she leant forward to press a lingering kiss to your cheek, her fingers combing through your hair, just like how she would do it any other day to simply play with your hair.

With a quick nod, she gently pushed on your shoulders and watched as you sneakily crept to your chosen hiding spot.

It was by far your favorite spot, a small hatch underneath the desk pushed up against the wall. It was hidden beneath the few piles of shoes cluttered around, and you had to hastily move them enough to open the hatch.

You cringed once the hinges made an old rusty screech, and with ease you crawled inside, making sure to close the hatch securely behind you. Hugging your knees to your chest, you shuffled your position and felt the rough dirt and dust cling to your clothes. The bear that was still held in your hand was put at your feet, even though you couldn't see it with the darkness.

Although you could still vaguely hear the ongoing conversation, most of what you could hear was muffled. You tensed once you heard the loud cackles of the green haired man, shivers erupting over your body.

“Mrs. Y/L/N! How lovely to see the family together- oh wait, no… your little girl isn’t here?” He mocked sadness.

“She won’t be coming, Joker,” You heard your dad speak before your mother could, his voice stern and protective.

“Aw, what a shame. I was really looking forward to meeting the little lady! Perhaps maybe I can after this has all blown over.”

At this point, your confusion only grew. Nobody was coming to find you yet, and your mum was now in the same room as your dad and those other men. You felt your gut twist uncomfortably, and the fear was coursing through your body.

You wanted your parents. You didn't like this game anymore. You could only wish you were back in the warmth of your bed, peacefully asleep and unaware of the world around me.

Your mother let out a sudden loud sob.

“Please, just- just don’t hurt us or our baby. She doesn’t know anything,” you heard her cry more, and before another word could be said, a loud gunshot echoed throughout the house causing you to jump and bump your head on the hatch door.

“No!” You heard your dad scream, and it was then that you knew none of this was right. His voice was a tone you had never heard before, filled with pain and anger. You didn’t hear your mother anymore. Was she-

“I did you a favor,” the Joker cooed, your fathers muffled crying echoing throughout the house. “Women are picky. You can’t tell me the girl didn’t annoy you at least once?! You should be thanking me!”

“You monster!” Your dad screamed, before he was harshly cut off by him grunting in pain.

“Now, now, don’t be so picky. She was bothering the both of us. Now, where’s your little girl?” The Joker said, clapping his hands in a ‘chop-chop’ motion.

There was no response from your father, and you didn’t even realize the fresh tears streaming down your cheeks and falling onto your knees. You held back any whimpers in order to stay hidden.

“If you won’t tell me,” the Joker started, his tone switching from cheerful to dark. “Then I’ll get her myself.”

It was barely a few seconds, five at least, before the hatch door was swung open and your arms were grabbed. You screamed and thrashed, before you were harshly pushed forward onto the floor. Your head made impact with the wooden slats, and you cried out.

Despite the tears clouding your vision, you didn’t fail to notice the body of your mother laying lifeless on the floor, hot crimson blood spilling from a hole in her head and pooling around the floor, her blue top now stained red. Her eyes were open, glazed over and lacking life, and it looked as if she was merely frozen in fear.

You weren’t crying anymore. The tears had stopped, and now you could only watch with wide eyes the sight before you. Your mum, who you had touched and talked to and heard only a few minutes ago, was dead.

“Y/N,” your dad called, his arms outstretched, and you were knocked from your thoughts and practically stumbled into his open arms.

“Don’t look, baby. It’s ok, just don’t look,” he whispered into your ear, but his voice was shaky, and you could feel his own tears soaking into the fabric of your pajama shirt.

You heard footsteps near, but you refused to remove your face from the crook of your dad's neck, the only way to hide the scene behind you. You felt a cold hand pat your head, and your dad tugged you away from the stranger.

“Beautiful little girl you’ve gotten yourself, Xavier. She looks almost identical to you,” the Joker teased. “You know, I bet she’ll become just as great a fighter as you, huh? Just imagine it, father and daughter, working alongside the one and only Joker to rule over Gotham! Oh, it will all be so much fun, what do you say?”

You turned your head a little, catching a glimpse of the Joker crouching at the knees in front of your father and you, the smile never leaving his face. When your dad didn’t say anything, the Jokers sickening gaze drifted to you.

“How about we let the little one decide, huh? What do you think, little clown?”

You didn’t need to try answering, because your dad's grip on your body was tightening to the point you could just barely breathe.

“No, you sick shit! She’s only a kid! She’s only just started second grade. She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

For a moment, it was quiet.

“You’re right…” You heard Joker sigh, standing to his feet. “Maybe that’s why we need to let her choose for herself, and to not be influenced by the wrong kind of people.”

The Joker clicked his fingers once. Two of the guards came forward and pried you from your father's warm embrace, and once more you were crying, reaching out for him. You watched as he attempted to fight to get you back but was pinned down by the other two guards while Joker stood over him.

“Such a shame, really. I did enjoy your small family. Unfortunately, it might just need to be a little smaller now.” he reached into his suit pocket, pulling out what looked to be a long needle filled with a black tinted liquid. “Recognize this?”

You watched as your dad's eyes widened, and tears streamed down his face while his voice cracked with each word.

“P-please, not my little girl. Not my girl. I’ll do anything!”

Joker laughed, loud. “Oh, you poor man. This wasn’t for the child! I’m not that cruel!” He stalked closer to your father, watching in amusement as he thrashed wildly in an attempt to escape. You saw the fear flash in his eyes.

The Joker leant close to his face, licking his lips in a mocking manner while holding up the small needle so that your dad could see.

“This wasn’t meant for your daughter, it was meant for you, silly!” And just like that, the sharp tip of the needle was penetrating your dad's flesh at the neck, his eyes grown wide in horror. He didn’t even try to fight anymore, his body giving up while he turned his head to you for the last time.

“Y/N,” he chocked, and you watched with frightful eyes as black veins spread across his neck, traveling over his body like bolts of lightning. He groaned in pain.

"I love you so much, baby. I'm sorry," he cried. "Do you understand? I love you so much."

Your body shook as his eyes met yours. You didn't have the voice to say it back, and you saw the hurt flash in his eyes. Opening your mouth, the only thing that would come out was a chocked sob.

He fell onto his side, limp.

The Joker wiped a fake tear. "Oh my, how sad..."

He paid no mind as you continued to cry, calling out for your parents. You were sure that you were next, and you flinched when you felt the Joker's hand pat your head. He let out a maniacal laugh the more you cried, and you physically struggled to inhale more air. Nearly instantly, he frowned to what you thought was sympathy, tutting.

“Don’t worry about them, my new apprentice! Life would have been so boring here; I'm giving you another chance! How exciting! Harley will be thrilled!"

You didn't fight as he took your hand, your shaky body going to stand beside him. Even when he continued to drag you toward the door, your gaze was trained on the bodies laid out in the middle of the room, and it was then that you realized that the only person you had now was this man.

A monster brought from your nightmares.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.