#youth shot dead

[best24news]

Murder in Haryana: रेहडी पर अंडे खा रहे एक युवक की गोलियों से भूनकर हत्या

Murder in Haryana: रेहडी पर अंडे खा रहे एक युवक की गोलियों से भूनकर हत्या

हरियाणा: झज्जर-बहादुरगढ़ जिले के कस्बा बादली में शनिवार शाम बाजार में एक दुकान पर अंडे खा रहे एक युवक की गोलियों से भूनकर हत्या कर दी गई। उसे सात गोलियां मारी गई। दुकानदार भी दो गोली लगने से घायल हुआ है। उसे अस्पताल में भर्ती कराया गया है। Haryana News: नई साल में राशन वितरण को लेकर होगा बडा बदलाव, जानिए क्यों ? बता दे कि बादली में लाडपुर मोड़ के पास गांव का युवक मोनू इस दुकान के बाहर खड़ा होकर…

[rightnewshindi]

मूर्ति विसर्जन के दौरान गोली मारकर की युवक की हत्या, बवाल के बीच उठी बुलडोजर एक्शन और एनकाउंटर की मांग

मूर्ति विसर्जन के दौरान गोली मारकर की युवक की हत्या, बवाल के बीच उठी बुलडोजर एक्शन और एनकाउंटर की मांग #youth #shotdead #idol #immersion #bulldozeraction #encounter

Uttar Pradesh News: बहराइच में महसी के महाराजगंज कस्बे में मूर्ति विसर्जन के दौरान गोली मारने से मृतक युवक का शव सुबह पौने आठ बजे गांव पहुंचा। मौके पर पहुंचे तहसीलदार को आक्रोशित ग्रामीणों ने खदेड़ दिया। शव लेकर ग्रामीण महसी तहसील मुख्यालय कूच कर आए हैं। यहां शव रखकर हजारों की भीड़ प्रदर्शन कर रही है। कई थानों की पुलिस संग डीएम व एसपी मौके पर लोगों को समझाने में लगी हुई हैं, लेकिन आक्रोशित लोग…

[lilpunkintater]

Make America mill again, tag anyone who lives in the woods

[manhandlememando]

i’ll beg whatever gods i need to. | cregan stark

cregan stark x f!wife!reader

format: one-shot

tw: MDNI warning (oh boy here we go) in depth descriptions of gore and bodily injury, blood, ANGST, cregan crying and in pain, mentions of religion and praying, hurt/comfort, more angst, angry cregan, insecure!cregan, unprotected piv, oral (both receiving), face riding, cowgirl, breeding kink (duh he’s a stark), uncut cregan. (written in 3rd person POV) (she/ her pronouns)

word count: 5,539

excerpt: Whatever angelic being had blessed this world with his form, she begged of it to leave him with her. However broken or scarred, she didn’t care, she just needed him. With tears streaking her face she looked up to the heavens in anguish, begging anyone who could hear her to please, let him come back to me.

- or -

cregan gets mauled by a direwolf.

song inspirations: youth by Daughter, human by Daughter, i gave you all by Mumford & Sons, heavy in your arms by Florence and The Machine, i found by Amber Run, roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent, work song by Hozier, family tree by Ethel Cain, in the woods somewhere by Hozier, glory by Dermot Kennedy

The hour of the owl came passing over Castle Black, and still Cregan had not returned from his patrol of the Wall. Her worry had grown tenfold, the knot in her stomach was now a heavy stone. She knew something was amiss. Moving from their shared chambers to the corridors of the small castle, she decided a short walk may alleviate some of her anxiety, allowing her to clear her head.

However after only several minutes of beginning to wander, she heard commotion coming from the direction of the courtyard. Yelling and shrieking, men could be heard barking orders at each other, calls for the maester were loud, but the one thing that rose above it all was the most blood curdling roar she’d ever heard. Not wasting any time, she ran through the narrow hallways towards the source of the noise, only to come to a dead stop, the beating of her heart doing the same.

There he lay on a gurney in the middle of the courtyard, thrashing against the hands trying to hold him still. Crying out in agony as the maester tried his best to assess the situation at hand.

“Oh gods…” she gasped when the source of his pain became clear to her. His armor was covered in deep crimson streaks of blood, the leather ripped to shreds revealing the metal beneath. His face, contorted in pain, bore two long gashes from above his right eyebrow and trailing down his temple into his hairline. It seemed as if a deep crimson curtain had been pulled over half of his face as the blood seeped from the deep, jagged cuts. However the worst of his injuries were to his left shoulder, which seemed to be attached only by the grace of the gods. It was so gruesome she began to feel ill. The bone of his upper bicep was exposed, the flesh hanging from it. Blood seeping profusely from the wounds, teeth marks littered his forearm and hands. The fabric of his pants torn and she could see more crescent shaped puncture wounds littered across his legs, and his right ankle was bent at a sickening angle. They were large, belonging to something much bigger than anything she had seen in the North. A direwolf.

A young knight was holding the Stark ancestral sword, Ice, which was now covered tip to hilt in blood. Another man standing next to the knight who bore her husbands sword, stepped towards her.

“My Lady you mustn’t be here, you should not witness this,” he said, trying to block her view of her husband.

“No! No, I must be with him,” she rushed forward, only to be stopped by the strong arms of the guard holding her back.

“Please! He’s my husband, I have to -,” she began to plead with the man keeping her in her place before Cregan’s loud yell stopped her sentence short. The maester and his assistant were beginning to pack his wounds with whatever clean cloth the other men could find, Cregan seemed as if he was trying to pull away. Arching at the contact to his arm and shoulder, neck straining and face red as another scream erupting from deep within him. Tears were streaming down his face as it crumpled into an expression she never thought she’d see from him; fear.

It took two full grown men to hold him still, even in his weakened state, as they began to move him from the damp ground. Although, consequently the motion caused his body to shift and in turn sent him into another fit of agony.

At the sounds of his screams getting even more broken and strangled, her knees fell weak, slumping into the man’s hold as the air left her lungs.

He could die, the thought crossed her mind when she caught a glimpse of the expanse of blood leftover on the muddy ground.

————————————————————————

They had placed him in their bedchamber and the maester had since given Cregan milk of the poppy to calm him. He had been cleaned up and mended as best as the maester and his assistant could manage. They had also taken measures to prevent infection, although they informed her that it wasn’t fail safe and to be prepared for any outcome.

“He will have an incredibly long recovery period… if he survives,” the maester said to her as he wiped his hands of her husbands blood, his voice lowering as he spoke of his Lord’s possible death. She only nodded, eyes wide, feeling as if she was submerged in water. All the words being said to her were muffled and distorted. Some of the men from the Watch had tried to pull her from the bedchambers when they had first begun to work on him, whispering false reassurances and pleading with her to not witness this.

She couldn’t look away from his limp form laying on their shared bed, smothered in white bandages that were slowly blossoming red. However, his torso was somewhat unmarked by the direwolf’s teeth and claws (save for several deep purple bruises beginning to show their full form) due to the steel armored chest piece he had adorned upon her request, just before leaving for his patrol.

This might be his deathbed, she thought to herself. Tears beginning to pool on her lashes.

“I shall leave you. I will return in several hours to replenish the milk of the poppy… if he wakes again,” the maester looked down at the floor in despair. Exiting the room, the maester bid his condolences.

Nearing the bed, she knelt down and lightly took his hand in hers, brushing her lips over his bandaged knuckles and letting out a shaky breath.

“Please, my love you must wake up. Heal well and return to me, do not leave me in this world without you,” she pleaded with the unmoving form in front of her. The tears beginning to fall as she placed her head upon the bed next to their interlocked hands.

She did not pray, she never had found an interest in paying much attention to the new gods or the old. But in this moment she found herself reaching out for guidance as she called upon the gods to help him. Whatever angelic being had blessed this world with his form, she begged of it to leave him with her. However broken or scarred, she didn’t care, she just needed him. With tears streaking her face she looked up to the heavens in anguish, begging any god that could hear her to please, let him come back to me.

————————————————————————

The night dragged on, as if time had been weighed down by the gravity of the situation, and on its continued trek forward it somehow had slowed.

The maester had come and gone twice before, but Cregan had not woken yet. She refused to move from his side the entire time, having wept for hours she now felt empty and void of anything at all.

“My Lady you must eat,” a guard had come in, trying his best to persuade his Lady of the North to eat something or else she would fall ill.

“I am not hungry,” she flatly responded to the young man, whose face fell as he nodded and exited the room.

It was several more hours before Cregan awoke, he was still deep within the fog of the poppy’s milk but he was whispering something. His mouth barely moving, the sound coming out more like a silent prayer than a word.

He spoke her name, breathed it more like. But still, through all the hell he had been through in the last several hours, his mind only fell upon her.

“My love,” she said softly, lifting his hand to her lips once more. “My love, can you hear me?” She asked, but was met with nothing. Cregan drifting back into sleep, leaving her in the silence once again.

He woke like this periodically over the next several days, the maesters visiting every couple of hours to assess his wounds and change his bandages. Still all the while providing him with an ample amount of milk of the poppy to ward off his pain. They were somehow successful in warding off any major infections to the wounds, which was nothing short of a miracle. They had spent hours on different herbal remedies to help the Lord of the North heal without a fever.

As the days passed, she still refused to leave his side. Six days had passed by the time Cregan finally gained enough consciousness to express his pain level.

She had been napping in a chair next to the bed where he lay. Waking suddenly to the sound of a loud, pained groan.

“Cregan!” She gasped, his eyes opened just slightly, and she saw they were bloodshot but open nonetheless. He hissed in pain as she touched his hand.

“What’s happened?” He asks weakly, looking down at the bandages still covering most of his body.

“There was an incident beyond the Wall when you went to patrol the perimeter several days ago. They say you and the men were attacked by a direwolf.” She explains softly. His face drops, his eyes going wide at the memory. With some effort he tried to look down at his left shoulder, and when met with the sight of layers and layers of white bandages, he grimaced.

“I remember,” he whispers. His eyes closing as he inhales deeply, wincing again at the movement. When he opens his eyes again she can see the tears gathered within them.

“I - I cannot feel my hand,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked down at his left hand once again, his dominant hand.

“I will fetch the maester, it must just be a symptom of the damage caused. They will mend it though, as they have everything else,” she reassured him and stood to leave and get the maester, but they both know her reassurance was empty of any fact.

Worry gripped at her stomach again as the maesters words rang within her ears; “he will have an incredibly long recovery period”.

But what if there was no recovering fully from this? What if he would never be able to wield a sword again? Or walk properly? The thoughts swam in her mind, each drowning out the other.

She returned shortly with the maester, who breathed a sign of relief at the sight of Cregan fully awake.

He tried to offer Cregan more milk of the poppy before he began assessing the healing progression of his injuries, but Cregan refused.

“My Lord, I do not wish to see you in pain. But I must remove the bandages -,” the older man tried to explain, but Cregan cut him off curtly.

“Then do it,” he said, his face stern.

“Cregan, please listen to the maester, this is going to be more painful than you think,” she tried to reason with him, but his jaw was set and so was his mind.

“As you wish, my Lord,” the old healer nodded solemnly, moving to remove the first bandage. Upon contact with his arm Cregan did not grimace or contort in pain, his brows furrowed as if confused.

“I cannot feel it,” he said, his voice sounding far away, as if was in shock at the realization finally setting in.

“What, my love?” She inquired, looking at his arm as the maester began to unwrap more of the white fabric. The stitches were surrounded by bruised skin, what couldn’t be stitched back together was healing under a protective salve the maester had prepared. It will scar badly, but it didn’t matter, they were able to save his arm when she was more than certain he would lose it. As the maester lifted his arm Cregan had no reaction, just staring blankly into space. She was sure he must be in pain but he wasn’t reacting to what the maester was doing whatsoever.

“My darling, are you alright?” She asked him quietly, placing a hand under his chin to turn him to face her.

“I cannot feel anything,” he said, still his voice was hollow.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, not fully understanding what he meant by that.

“In my arm, it does not hurt because I cannot feel it,” he explained finally meeting her eyes. That was where she saw the flicker of fear again come across his face, worry painting his features.

“This is my dominant hand, I must be able to use it whenever necessary. It is the hand with which I wield Ice. But now I am not even able to move it. I am no longer a sufficient warrior… or man,” he said, his voice shaking as tears came to his eyes. The maester gave Cregan a pitiful look that just upset the Lord more.

“No, no that is not true my love,” she rushed to comfort him, cradling his face, making sure to avoid the stitches on his brow and temple.

“Do not do this to yourself, my darling. Do you understand what you have survived? You were attacked by a direwolf, Cregan… and you survived. That is next to impossible, but here you are,” she said, her voice soft and dripping in empathy. Brushing a tear from just under his eye as it began to fall. He shifted his gaze away from her, his eyes hardening again.

“But what good is survival if I am no longer able to live how I am meant to?” He said, still not meeting her eyes.

“It will take some adjustment, but we will get through this. You will get through this,” she assured him.

“Cregan… look at me,” she says quietly, trying to get him to connect with her again and not sink deeper into his darkening thoughts.

“Look at me, now,” she commanded in a more firm tone, which caused him to finally look at her once more, a sheepish expression in his eyes.

“Stop this at once,” she said, still holding her firm tone. He nodded and sighed, knowing he would not win this one. But as he cast his eyes downwards and frowned slightly, she knew he couldn’t be swayed in this moment from the doubt that was consuming him.

This will be a long recovery indeed, she thought to herself.

————————————————————————

About thirteen moons after Cregan had been nearly killed by the direworf, the head of which now hung in the council room, he had recovered quite well by what the maesters had told her.

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell had since moved back from their residence at Castle Black when Cregan was finally well enough to travel. Although his body was healing well with time, his mind only sunk deeper into the belief he was now not worthy of his station as Warden of The North and the Lord of Winterfell. He had become easily irritated and many days she wished to not spend time with him, however she understood this too shall pass. She had sworn to him in her marriage vows to be by his side through sickness and in health, and she had no intention of breaking those vows in her lifetime.

As the Winter continued on, and as Cregan's strength grew back and the feeling began to make its way back into his limb, he was insistent on beginning his sword work training. She understood his urgency, finally having hope after such a long time of uncertainty was an addicting sort of feeling. It was hard for Cregan to accept that he would have to relearn how to use a sword with this new complication, and not train as he once did, as if nothing had happened.

Once the maester overseeing the Lord's care had cleared him to begin his lessons, she asked him if she would be able to accompany him. He agreed instantaneously, he was going to ask her anyways, feeling much better in her presence than anyone elses.

She busied herself with a book, perching upon several barrels of wine that sat on the edge of the courtyard, waiting to be taken to the cellars. Cregan had begun his lessons, and within minutes was already frustrated at the difficulty he had with even just handling the sword, let alone swinging it. She watched from the distance with a frown painting her face as he continued to struggle and bark at the knight he was sparring when he would try to offer his help. After much protest, Cregan finally gave into the offers to get him a wooden sword to wield instead. It was easier for him to handle, however his skill had rusted over with time and lack of use. His frustration became paramount when the young man bested him again, Cregan threw down his sword and stepped forward, grabbing his opponent by the collar.

"Do you wish to humiliate your Liege Lord?! Get out of my sight at once!" he roared in the mans face, causing him to stumble back and retreat from Cregan as quickly as possible.

She sat watching the scene as her own anger began to surface, standing and coming towards Cregan once he'd let the other man go, still breathing heavily and fuming.

"Come with me, now," she growled as she wrapped a firm hand around his good wrist, pulling him along behind her like a toddler being scolded and hauled off for punishment. She thought it best to bring him to their bedchambers as the conversation they needed to have was private.

Once they had entered their shared chambers Cregan immediately started in on his defense, to which she put up a silent palm in his direction, causing his sentence to halt before it finished.

"I can not do this anymore," she said softly, trying to keep her voice level, but to no avail. Placing a hand over her mouth as she began to silently weep, still refusing to look at him.

He softened immediately at the sight of her tears, hating desperately to make her upset. He took a step forward and brought his hand to her cheek, getting her to turn to him. She did not lift her gaze from the floor, sniffling lightly and trying to keep her tears from cascading and overflowing.

"You cannot do what anymore, love?" Cregan asked gently, moving his right hand to place at the back of her neck, and the other moving under her chin. His fingers intertwined into her hair at the back of her head as he tipped her head back slightly using the finger beneath her chin to raise her face to his. Taking another step closer to her he engulfed her in his size, pressed against her body, in complete control. Cradling her head completely in his hands, he moves the hand below her chin to place on her cheek once more.

"What was it, hmm?" he hummed to her, bringing his lips to brush against hers. She had become putty to mold as he wished, letting out a small sigh as he continued to tease the possibility of a kiss.

But in that moment she remembered her anger and could not let the lust for her husband overpower something that was becoming a serious issue between him and the rest of the world. She pushes away suddenly, putting space between them again. Cregan lets out an exasperated sigh as his hands fall to his sides.

"I can not possibly understand the stress you are under, and the constant unease you must feel within yourself. But I can understand how that affects me, and how that has affected our staff and those on your court. You were not slain, Cregan! You still have so much to live for, even if it means you cannot see battle again. That is what your army is for. Your value lies more in your character and not your physical form. Allowing that of which keeps you on solid ground to be the demise of what lies within your head, when you are so intelligent, and kind, and humorous. That is a sin, and the more treacherous of fates to befall a Warden of the North, even more so than a direwolf." She said, silence filled the room as Cregan realized he had no rebuttal. She was right after all, he could have been killed, and the fact he is allowing his mind to destroy what a direwolf couldn't, well it just seemed downright mad.

"I am so sorry, I never saw it that way," he responded softly, his heart feeling some what heavy in his chest as he felt the onslaught of emotion begin to creep up his throat. He had repressed so much in wanting to keep a certain image, and with his own wife being able to see through his facade so clearly, he realized how much pain he was really holding in. With that thought the dam broke as he let out a choked sob, leaning on the back of a chair closest to him he began to fall weak to his emotions.

At the sound of his whimper she turned around again, seeing him holding the bridge of his nose as he wept uncontrollably. Barely keeping himself upright with the back of the chair next to him.

"Oh, my darling," she went to him, quickly gathering him into her arms and bringing him down to kneel on the ground as she sat in the chair he was using for support. With his head tucked to her breast and his arms tightly wound around her body, hands finding purchase in her hair, he finally began to rack with sobs. She just let him collapse into her, stroking the hair from his face, tracing the scar on his temple and kissing his hairline. All the while cooing sweet reassurances into his ear.

"I have you my love, I have you," she whispered into his hair as he began to regain his breath. Not letting her go in the slightest, but relaxing nonetheless, Cregan began to breathe normally again, silent tears still coming from his eyes every now and then.

But he knew he was safe, and above all, he knew he was loved unconditionally.

————————————————————————

“Cregan, we cannot you aren’t healed properly yet,” she breathed out in a sigh as his lips traced the column of her throat.

“Your shoulder… and your ankle, it is too risky,” she tried to protest but the affect he had over her was undeniable.

“I am fine, my love. I am in need of my wife. It has been many moons and I cannot refrain any longer, injuries be damned,” he said, scoffing at the last part of his statement. Her skin was set alight with his touch as she leaned into him more. Laying in their bed, beneath a mountain of furs, he began to move atop of her, but she stopped him.

“If we are to do this, you will not lift a finger, is that clear?” She said firmly, and Cregan’s eyebrows rose in surprise at his wife’s sudden dominance, his cock twitching within his small clothes. He nodded quickly as he moved to lay back against the many pillows, eyes darkening as she rose from the bed to lean back on her heals. Very slowly she removed her shift, revealing the whole of her body to him.

“It is as if you are a goddess yourself, there is no need for religion when you are the alter I pray at, and the deity I pray to,” he whispered as he took in the sight. His mind putting to memory every curve, every inch of skin he laid his eyes on. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her naked before, but after such restraint it is like they are newlyweds once again. With her help he removed his tunic and small clothes, breath shaky as he looked down upon her naked form crawling up his body.

She was gentle with her touch, ghosting it over the small scars that now cover each of his legs. He shivers at the contact but does not pull away, allowing the sensitivity to wash over him and settle within his groin. He reaches with his good arm to touch her face, but she retracts to his disappointment.

“No touching,” she said with a small smirk forming at the corner of her lips. The mischievous look in her eyes was enough for him to understand it would be better to not protest. Leaning down she places soft kisses across his thighs, moving closer to his stiff member, his hips buck involuntarily as she finally takes his tip into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around the top just before pulling down his foreskin to lick at his sensitive slit.

A groan erupted from deep within his chest, wavering at the end as he gasped and sputtered. She had taken him fully into her mouth at this point, beginning to move up and down his length in a rhythmic motion.

His chest flexed as he threw his head back, his right hand hovering just next to her jaw. Knowing she would stop if he disobeyed her direct instructions, he held himself back from caressing her face. Broken gasps and whimpers were falling unabashedly from the Warden of the North’s lips, his strong, muscled body molding into putty in her hands.

Suddenly she rose and removed her mouth from him, to his disappointment. Breathing hard he kept his eyes on hers as she began to move even further up his body. His brows knitting into one another as he wondered what exactly she was doing, until it clicked, and the biggest smile graced his handsome features. He understood and shifted himself to be fully lying down, moving down the bed slightly to give her room as she moved to take her rightful place on his face. He hummed happily at the sweet taste of her on his tongue once again, having not indulged in his most favorite delicacy in far too long. She let out a sharp gasp as his lips wrapped themselves around her sensitive pearl, sucking lightly before exploring her deeper. She looked down to see his eyes closed and the most blissfully content look upon his face as he continued to ravage her with just tongue. Switching between broad strokes of his tongue along her cunt to small kitten licks upon her clit that had her panting and grinding her hips down onto him. The scruff on his unshaven face added to the sensational feeling against her as he sank his tongue within her finally. Moaning uncontrollably and quite loudly, she found herself leaning against the headboard for support as her body began to give into the pleasure he was bringing her.

“That’s it, my darling. Fall apart for me, I have you,” he coaxed, breath hitting her clit, causing her to groan, which shortly turned into the most obscenely moan. He hooked his left arm around her waist and continued to guide her to completion. With his tongue in her cunt and his nose teasing her clit, she came apart with nothing short of a scream of his name. Throwing her head back as she felt her muscles go limp from the intensity of her orgasm.

“So perfect for me,” he whispers to her, kissing the inside of her thighs softly.

She smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief as she had been just as pent up as he’s been, and finally getting some form of release was euphoric to say the least.

As she moved from his face she could see the way his lips shown with the remnants of her. She looked down to see his cock almost impossibly bigger than when she had first taken him into her mouth. She couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could he. Grabbing ahold of her hips he quickly shifts her down his body back to his waist. The tip catching at her entrance ever so slightly and they both moaned loudly in unison.

With his right hand having an iron grip on her hip, he helped her position her on top of him. As she began to sink down on his length it was as if all the air in the room had suddenly been removed. The sensation punching the air out of her lungs.

Cregan thought he was seeing the gods, his vision almost going completely white as he feels her tight, hot cunt envelope him. Arching his spine while his eyes roll to the back of his head as soon as she is fully seated on him. Staying still for a second to give them both a minute to catch their breath, she regains her strength and begins to shift her hips.

“Touch me,” she commanded softly, he didn’t need to be told twice. He moved to sit up, his forehead resting on her sternum, placing open mouthed kisses between the valley of her breasts before taking one into his mouth. His left arm secures her hips in his hold while the other hand snakes its way into her hair. Grabbing at the roots he tugs her head back to expose more of her neck to him. Laying hot, wet kisses upon any expanse of skin he could reach. As his grip around her waist tightened slightly, he kept guiding her to ride his cock slowly, thrusting up every so often causing her to choke on a moan.

“Cregan…,” she moaned his name, groans continuing to slip from her mouth as he moved to suck on her other breast. Gently lapping at the nipple as she whimpered.

“So gorgeous, my love. So good for me. Taking me so - nnnggh - well,” he grunted out, groaning when she squeezed him as his words sent a shock wave to her core. She threaded her fingers into his chocolate strands, pulling slightly earning another pleased noise from her husband.

“I’ve missed this, I’ve missed us,” she pants, looking down at his face. As he looks up, her breath catches at the sight of her fucked-out husband and his pink cheeks and kiss swollen lips.

“I know, me too,” he responds breathlessly, she cups his face and brings her lips to his. It’s messy, he crushes his mouth to hers and suddenly begins thrusting upwards, hitting that one spot deep within her.

Her gasp causes him to pull away from the kiss, but not from her. Their mouths still close, breathing in each others air as he continues to thrust into her. Tipping his head back as his face scrunches in pleasure and groaning loudly, he then ducks his head into the curve of her neck as his thrusts get more and more sloppy. His right arm still snaked up her back and his hand tangled in her hair to keep her close. She was reaching the precipice of heaven for the second time that evening, and he could tell. The way she began to squeeze him, how she fluttered around him, he knew.

“I know, my love. Give yourself to me,” he begged, whispering the pleas in her ear before kissing the shell of it. With several more thrusts she was coming undone around him, moaning and gasping as she collapses into him. With only several more thrust he too was coming undone in the most beautiful way. Flushed and groaning, he is the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Only moments afterwards, still basking in their post-coital glow, he lays back against the pillows once more. Placing a hand directly over her womb, he mutters something about “seeing her round with child in several moons” and she felt his cock jump within her as he continues to cradle his hands around her lower stomach.

“I can’t wait for you to bare my children, my love,” he states, looking into her eyes with such adoration. Resting her hands atop his she nods.

“I can’t wait to be the mother of your children, I’m sure I will be soon,” she responds, equal adoration radiating off her.

————————————————————————

She missed her moon’s blood the following month, and he was the happiest he had been in a very long time.

Although the feeling never fully returned in his left arm and hand, he had re-learned how to wield Ice with just as much skill as he did before the incident. His ankle and legs did recover after more than a year of rehabilitation, but eventually he no longer walked with a limp.

The gratitude which he felt was immeasurable. Thinking about how many ways his life could have been different if he didn’t have her to keep him sane through the most difficult thing he had ever faced; losing his physical strength and health. Most days feeling as if he couldn’t go on, but then she would be at his side to aid him in whatever he needed. Never wavering in her love or loyalty to him.

He woke every day from then on thanking the old gods and the new for sparing one of their angels to be his wife.

[pseudowho]

As usual, I have no one to talk about this but... Have you seen those "mom instincts are cool, but let's talk about dad reflexes for a sec" vids???

Kento with dad reflexes? (Pretty sure he already has it when he's single or even in canon when Yuji is accompanying him in missions lmao)

I'm just in my bed giggling, kicking my feet because I can imagine him having those like when his baby girl would trip and he moves so FAST to catch her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 man idk where I'm going with this it's just making me go skkdkddkdjd

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The footsteps were slow, slick, echoing-- considered. At this stage, Kento didn't know if he and Yuuji were being hunted, or if they were the hunters. He suspected both.

The mansion fell apart around them, broken pipes lazily spewing sewage and muck. Kento felt the softly yielding floorboards beneath his feet, aware that if he wasn't careful, the second floor would very quickly become the first floor and--

"Oi, Nanamin!" Bounding, youthful footsteps hopped up beside Kento, who felt and heard the repercussions up the walls, the crack in the floorboards, the imminent collapse--

With the barest flash of movement, the floor beneath Yuuji's feet was missing, and Yuuji hung by his collar in Kento's iron grip, slowly rotating in the air as floorboards rumbled away with distant clatters. Otherwise, silence. A mildly dismayed hum from Kento, as he twizzled his blade in his other hand.

"Wow, Nanamin! Good refle--"

"Please make sure I do not have to use them, Itadori-kun."

"Ah...yeah."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Curse-killing on a moving Subway train in the middle of the night wasn't the sort of overtime Kento needed...but when he heard the mission had been given to you, and you alone, he felt a sickening twist of anxiety in his gut. Not that you knew how he felt.

Kento bridled with incandescent rage, seeing you tumble down the rattling carriage, pinballing between poles and seats. Your fatal blow to this filthy Curse was not fatal quickly enough.

"Come on! It's dead, time to--" Kento's call was cut short, sensing imminent disaster as you kicked the door through on the opposite end of the carriage, and the Curse staggered into the walls, making the carriage list sideways, making you list sideways at the open door in your bullet-shot speed through this gloomy tunnel--

All at once, you felt yourself falling from the moving train, rolling and tumbling but wrapped up in something so warm that smelled so good.

You rolled to a stop, still full-body bear-hugged by Kento. You lay under him for a moment, face to chest through the torn off buttons of his shirt. He unfolded you with a soft sigh, hands and knees planted either side of your head and hips.

"Wow, Kento. Good refle--"

"Dinner, I--...we should go out for dinner."

"Oh. Like...now?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Daddy, watch this--"

One little blonde girl, suspended and giggling upside down, caught. Kento, sighing, holding her by her ankle by the tree she was almost certainly too small to climb.

-----------------------------

"Jump, jump, jump, jump, ju--"

A full-suited barrel-roll across the living room, a near-miss with a tiny head and a coffee table corner. The boy peered sheepishly up at his daddy, whose narrow brown eyes glowered down in silent disapproval.

"Daddy, I was jumpi--"

"Hush. Be more careful."

-----------------------------

"I'll race you--"

"No, I'm winning I'M WINNING I'M---"

A flash of movement. One little boy and one little girl, hunched over and suspended by the backs of their jeans, spinning and surprised.

Kento grunted once, loaded down with shopping bags, hooking the boot of the car up with one foot, his keys between his teeth. He spat his keys onto the seat.

A truck barrelled past, its driver certainly not looking for little people. Kento grunted again, dropping children and shopping bags.

"Do not-- I repeat, do not run in the car park."

"...sorry daddy."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You reached out towards Kento, seeing something glimmer in the honey-blond of his hair. His hand snapped up, grasping yours reflexively round the wrist. He let go immediately, apologetic.

"Sorry, I--...rough day with the kids." You smiled, stroking his cheek, and he leaned into your soft palm, planting a kiss there. Your gaze wandered to his hair again. Kento raised an eyebrow at you.

"What?"

"You've, uhm...got a grey hair."

Silence. A moderately dismayed hum.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

I agree. Nanami Kento has dad reflexes.

-- Haitch xxx

[entitled-fangirl]

A second wife and a poet.

Cregan Stark x second wife! Blackwood!reader

Summary: The North pressured Cregan to marry again. He hates the thought of it, but at least the reader is someone he's comfortable with.

Warnings: mentions of death, fighting, battles, arguing, cursing, smut (p in v), and all that other stuff

A/n: Based on an ask sort of! This thing is so long I'm so sorry😭

Masterlist

..........................................

Cregan did not wish to marry again. The thought terrified him.

But he understood that his wishes were not taken into account when he was born with the Stark name.

Now, he nervously stood outside of the Winterfell walls, awaiting the young woman that would become his second wife. 

Lord Samwell Blackwood's only daughter. 

Cregan was not a religious man, but he prayed that this marriage would be better.

It would help further the alliance. That's what he told himself. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat as her carriage came to a halt. 

She stepped out.

She was different than what Cregan had remembered.

The Blackwood hair was obvious, the dark curly locks running down her shoulders effortlessly. He'd seen that same shade atop of Benjicot's head. 

But the manner in which she carried herself was different. Very… un-Blackwood like.

She was nervous.

He'd never seen any of the Blackwoods ever hold an inkling of doubt to them. It was a strange sight.

Not that he could blame her.

She curtsied out of politeness, keeping her head down.

He shook his head, "Y/n."

Her head shot up to look at him. To really look at him.

She remembered him visiting Raventree Hall in their youth. Cregan had found a friendship in her brother, Benjicot, as did their fathers.

This had prompted lots of visits in the past.

Until Rickon Stark died and Cregan took the mantle his father left behind. He was only thirteen.

Now in his twenties, the permanent exhaustion shown in his eyes. The years had been hard to him.

He was nothing like the young boy that had once sparred with her brother.

"Cregan," she greeted back.

Their eyes met.

It was awkward. What do you say to someone you know and yet, don't know at all? Especially when both sides had endured such grief.

"Did-"

"I heard-"

They both stopped, not intending to interrupt one another. 

"Please," Cregan gestured.

"No, I insist that you do."

An unsure breath escaped him. "Did Benji not accompany you?"

It was strange to hear the formidable Lord of Winterfell still refer to her brother as "Benji" as if they were kids again.

"No," she swallowed. "He had… more pressing matters to attend to. I hope you understand."

"Of course," he offered. "I was saddened, you know. To hear of the loss of your father."

The Battle at the Burning Mill had left her father, Samwell, and her cousin, Davos, dead in the dirt alongside many other men who fought by their side. It was a victory, but with victory came loss.

"As I, with your wife, I mean."

He nodded. "Thank you."

Silence swallowed them whole, both at a loss of what else they could possibly say to ease the other.

He took the time to study her, making a note of the way she tapped the tips of each finger to her thumb. A nervous tick, he made a note of. Benji did the same when he grew angry.

"Did your journey fair well-"

"-Yes," she quickly answered.

They both cursed inwardly.

"Right. Perhaps I should show you… Indoors?" He asked awkwardly.

She nodded. "Yes, yes of course."

…

She sat at the desk, laying her head down onto the wooden surface. 

Judging by the way Cregan had only lingered in the doorway before, she had guessed that he hadn't entered the room since the passing of his wife.

Everything in it had remained the same. 

It felt wrong. Like an invasion of privacy to open her own closet and see another woman's dresses in it.

"Shall I get these out for you, my lady?" Her handmaiden tried to ease.

"Leave them," she muttered. "I'll get them out when I'm ready."

"And when will that be?"

She sighed in defeat. "I dunno."

…

What a lousy first impression.

Cregan felt like punching a wall.

What an idiot.

Perhaps he was destined to always have a wife estranged to him. For that's how this one had begun.

It should've been easy. It was Benji's sister, for fuck's sake.

He tried to rack his mind of memories of his time in Raventree Hall. He was a much younger soul then and the memories of it had faded significantly with time.

But he did remember her faintly.

She was always around, but she never bothered them. Never spoke up. She always was somewhere near with a book or a thread and needle. 

He just remembered the essence of her, but that was enough.

And the thought that war had broken the siblings up put an ache in Cregan's heart. He knew she'd be safe with him, but still. Benjicot couldn't even leave his duties long enough for a wedding ceremony. And she had just… accepted that.

This was his second chance. 

He had to do better.

…

At dinner, he tried to ease the tension. 

He cleared his throat, "You can write to your brother. If you wish, that is."

She set her spoon down gently and folded her hands into her lap. "That's kind. It would ease his mind to know I made my journey safely."

He grunted and took another sip of his broth. He tried to think of anything else. 

But she spoke up again, "I was waiting to ask but… perhaps I should just ask."

He tilted his head down, "Yes?"

"Your son… he lived, didn't he?"

He could tell she shook a little as she asked. "He did. He eats in his room."

"Oh." 

"Did you… Did you want to meet him?"

She pauses and a genuine smile breaks out on her face. "I'd be hard to be Lady Stark if I didn't."

He hangs his head in mock shame and he chuckles. "Right. That was foolish of me to ask."

"No, I understand." She shifted in her seat. "You're hesitant to replace his mother. You don't have to explain that to me."

"It's not that," he countered. "Well, not exactly. It's confusing."

"Alright?"

"My…" he paused. "Arra was one of my greatest friends in this world. But she was no wife. Our friendship grew to duty, and the love we shared for other another faded quickly. We seemed to argue more than we got along towards the end. It was… disheartening."

"I see."

He looked up at her and pushed himself to continue. "I fear you and I are not an even match."

A sudden jolt was felt in the pit of her stomach. "What?"

His eyes widened as he realized his choice of words, "No. No. I just meant… gods." He rubbed his forehead. "I have… experienced all the wonders of a man and wife already and you have not." Cregan looked around in thought. "Just seems unfair to you. In many ways."

She considered his words. He was right, she couldn't deny that. "Do you believe my brother had any doubt in this betrothal?"

Cregan's brows came together in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Everyone thought him so eager to sign me away, but that's anything but the truth. He knows you, Cregan. If it were any other man wishing for my hand, he would have denied it. Not you."

That brought an unusual warmth to his chest. "Why?"

The ends of her lips quirked up into a smile. "He said he'd never seen an equal opponent such as you. And only an equal opponent would be worthy of something so precious to him."

"Do you agree with him?" Cregan's voice whispered.

"I'm starting to."

The silence that had once been full of tension began to ease into one of comfort. 

"All in your family are true warriors as well, my lady. Only a fool would deny that. Especially your father and… and your cousin, you said?"

She nodded, "Yes, yes, my cousin, Davos. Hard to think that we've considered the battle a victory with such a devastating loss."

He hummed, his interest shifting when speaking of something he may have insight on: war. "The Brackens lost family alike."

She scoffed. "All for a few more feet of territory? For stones?"

"Careful," he warned. "They didn't fight for stones. You're smarter than that. What did they fight for? Truly?"

She thought about it carefully before giving in to what answer she knew he was looking for. "Power."

"Exactly. Your father died for the chance of future Blackwoods gaining greater power. That's much nobler a death than stones, don't you think?"

"He died for Benjicot, then?"

"And you," he offered.

That struck a nerve in her. "Then why do I sit safely behind the walls of Winterfell when I should be fighting by my brother's side for future Blackwoods?"

There it was.

He knew she'd have Blackwood fire in there somewhere.

He only had to light it.

"Do you want to wage wars, sweet girl?"

"No," she countered. "But if it must be done."

"Spoken like a true noble," he chuckled. "It's not nearly the same, I know, but the Stark forces may appreciate your support. If you'll bless us with it."

She looked confused. 

"Please tell me you wish to become a Stark. I cannot bare to think I'm forcing you into a marriage you'll be unhappy in. I've done it before and I won't do it again."

She felt a twist in her stomach at the tough man's voice faltering. She breathed in sharply, "I… I think I do."

Cregan couldn't accept that. "Please," he urged her to continue.

"I… I've been caught on the idea of younger you." She tilted her head to the side in thought as she stared at her bowl. "I'd happily marry my brother's best friend. But… the Lord of Winterfell? I dunno."

"He is one and the same," he protested.

"Is he?"

Cregan had never been rendered speechless in his life, yet there was a first for everything.

She let the silence set before speaking up, "Cregan was a boy with the very essence of life in him. I always thought he'd become a brave knight. He had a fire to him that you so rarely see. But Lord Stark? He has duty written into his very skin. The fire seems to have been tamed by sacrifice. He doesn't want a second wife. Nor do I blame him."

"I never said that!"

"You and I both know if Arra had birthed you one more heir, you wouldn't marry again at all."

"Stop." He commanded.

She faltered, pausing her words at his tone.

"It is true that I marry out of pure encouragement from my council. But that does not mean the end of our friendship. Please don't let it be."

"Cregan, you and I were never friends. You marry me with the memories of friendship you have with my brother. You know I am not him."

"I do!" He yelled. He softened. "I do. You're not like him at all."

That weighed on the two of them like bricks. 

She stared down at her bowl again. "I wish you'd have known my cousin, Davos, closely. My father used to say that the gods placed twins in separate wombs to keep us from ending the world." She laughed lightly, "He and I were inseparable."

"I heard Lord Davos only loved sparring and getting into trouble."

"Do you believe he only managed trouble on his own?" She questioned. "He was fiery on his own, yes, but I only encouraged it. I should have been there. At the border. I could've… I could've kept the battle from starting."

Cregan scoffed lightly, "There was no way to keep an inevitable battle from beginning."

"But I might have prolonged it all further," she tried. "Kept the tension just a while longer."

"Until what? Until it is your brother losing his head? Or worse, you?"

"Yes."

She wasn't that nervous girl from before. No. She was indeed a Blackwood. There was no question about that.

He sighed and clenched his fist. "We wed tomorrow. I'd rather my betrothed sleep well tonight with hopeful wishes rather than regrets and guilt."

She stood. "Maybe you're marrying the wrong woman then."

He watched her walk out, completely stunned.

It reminded him too much of Arra.

…

The tension hadn't relieved itself if the glare in Cregan's eyes were any indicator.

It was a steady glare. More one that seemed to study her, trying to figure out what makes her tick. 

Seems she was the very thing that made him tick.

She had glared back at the beginning of the ceremony, insistent on giving back every look that was sent her way, but slowly, that had changed to something else.

Her nerves returned.

He didn't notice at first, but he saw the way her hand shook so violently she almost didn't get the cup to her lips without spilling the liquid inside.

He was wracked with guilt.

He had once again forced a woman to "love" him.

"I've called off the bedding ceremony," he spoke lowly. "If that's any help."

"It's not."

He was shocked by the way she had so easily pushed away his attempt to ease her. Like she'd kicked the last leg Cregan was standing on. 

"Get up."

"What?"

"Get up. We're going."

She stared in shock. "Cregan, forgive me. I was-"

"C'mon. I'm firm on this."

When she didn't move, he grabbed her by her bicep, yanking her up and beginning to pull her through the dining hall. Both ignored the cheers and chants of what the people believed would happen in the couple's private chambers.

Once dragged to his room, she pulled her arms from his vice grip and smoothed out her dress. "Is that what you wanted? A newly wedded wife in tears? Because you're awfully close to it, Lord Stark."

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. "I'm not sleeping with you tonight. I refuse."

"What?"

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight. I refuse." He repeated with more force. He ran a hand through his hair. 

She shrugged off his cloak that he had placed on her during the ceremony and threw it aside. "You won't even let me perform my duties because you don't want to fulfill yours?"

"Y/n," he warned. "That's not how I meant it."

"I can't read you. Do you hate me? Do you love me? Gods, you're insufferable."

"-and you're blind."

"Oh! Enlighten me, then, oh great Lord Stark."

"I loved you. I still do."

She spun around to face him.

Cregan stood firmly. His eyes spoke more than his words did. He was insistent on having her trust him. 

"I don't believe that," she scoffed.

"Oh really?" He walked to his bureau and pulled out a small wooden box. He threw it onto the bed. "Have a look for yourself."

She looked him up and down before hesitantly walking over to the box. Sitting next to it, she pulled it open and examined the contents. 

Letters.

"What is this?"

"Every letter I tried to write to you the day I became the Lord of Winterfell. I had… foolish dreams of maybe having you as a wife. I was only a boy then."

She sat straight. "Why keep them?"

He shrugged. "I'm sentimental, I suppose. I had tried to burn them- many times, in all honestly. Couldn't bring myself to do it."

"May I?"

He nodded, anxiety filling his gut. 

Her nimble fingers picked up the letter that sat on top.

"There's a few others in there," he informed her as he sat on the other side of the bed. "All regarding you, of course. Letters to your brother, your father, you know."

She unraveled the latter despite shaky fingers. 

My loyalist friend Benjicot, I heard of the passing of your father. You have my deepest condolences. I understand all too well the feelings of honor and duty that have now been placed on your shoulders despite the grief that already weighs them down.  Regarding your sister, perhaps she may find a home in Wint

The letter stopped there, and she looked up at him.

"Some are… more recent, actually."

She nodded. "I see that."

He leaned to her, reading the letter with a light blush. "I'm not very well-spoken in writing, so I make lots of drafts."

"And they're all here?"

"Yes. Yes, all of them." He tapped the side of the box with his large hand. "Well, most of them."

She decided not to press the matter, placing the letter back and picking up an older one from deeper in the box.

This one had much sloppier handwriting, the page evidently aged.

Lady Blackwood, As the Leader of the North, I want you and Benji to visit as often as possible. I might be a lord, but I will always have time for the Blackwoods. Perhaps I can even teach you archery like you have so desperately wanted. Everyone knows I'm better at it than Benji is. Cregan

"Why did you never send them?"

He scoffed. "Read that again and tell me that was ever appropriate to send as the Warden of the North."

"You were a child then, as was I. It's in good favor."

"It's unbecoming of a cold northern lord, though." He reached out to take the letter from her but she held it out of his reach.

"Only yesterday, you told me this boy and the man in front of me were one and the same."

"And they are," he urged.

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"It's not!"

"Prove it."

He stared with an unreadable expression. 

She was insufferable, stubborn, witty, gracious, giving, honest…

He crashed his lips onto hers.

She let out a small yelp in surprise, but just as quickly melted into him, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm.

"This," she panted again his lips. "This is a bad idea."

He kissed her again, then pulled away just enough to speak, pressing his forehead to hers. "What is?" 

"Loving each other."

He grinned. "I don't care."

She groaned and moved back to him, capturing his lips again. 

He pushed her onto the bed, throwing the wooden box onto the ground with a loud crash before getting on top of her. 

She tried to sit up at the sound, breaking away from him for only a moment, "you could've torn them."

"Why does it matter?"

"I want to save them."

He chuckled, "Lovely woman, you'd rather save scraps of paper from a man's youth than indulge in your desires with the very man that wrote them?"

She ignored the butterflies in her stomach as Cregan's thumb brushed over her cheek. "I never said that."

Cregan tilted his head in teasing disbelief. "Then tell me what you want."

"I want-" she paused. What did she want? Mere moments ago, she wanted to return to Raventree Hall and be rid of the northerner. Now, she wanted to bask in anything that he gave her. "I want Arra's dresses out of my wardrobe."

Cregan blinked, clearly taken out of the moment. He sat up. "What?"

She sat up with him. "You may keep them if you wish, but I'm tired of the reminder of her presence every morning, noon, and night."

"Consider it done," he urged. "I'll have them moved immediately. Any of it you want will be gone within the hour."

"No, I don't-" she sighed. "I don't want her gone, per se. She was a part of you, and therefore a part of us. She's given you a son. To rid Rickon of his mother's memory and you of your first wife should be considered a crime."

"But if I live in the past, I can't enjoy what's in front of me."

"Aye, but you're not doing that," she grinned. "You've got a pretty girl in your bed. Seems like you're enjoying the present."

He didn't grin back, only sighing softly and nodding. "I hope you do forgive me. For forcing this."

"Cregan, you did not force it. Benji gave me a choice." When he gawked at her, she continued. "He encouraged me to accept, yes. But he did not force my hand. I wanted to do this. I wanted to marry you."

"You wanted to please your brother and I or you wanted to be Lady Stark?" He questioned.

"I wanted to be the wife of the man I once knew when he was a boy."

He accepted her answer happily, kissing her once again. This time, it was soft and careful.

She reached her hands up into his hair, tugging delicately at the dark strands. His breath hitched and he brought one of his own hands up as well. His hand gripped over hers. He pulled his hand into a fist, forcing hers as well, and encouraged her to tug harshly on his hair. She took the encouragement, beginning to yank. 

He felt a shiver go down his spine and his mouth opened in a moan. She grinned and took that as an invitation to kiss down his jaw. He tilted his head up to give her room to do so.

"I… I lied," he whispered as his hands roamed over his waist. "I think I do want you tonight."

She nipped at a spot under his neck. "I think I want you too."

He grunted at that and pulled her away from him. "Tell me what you want. Truly."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed, "I've had a first wedding night. I want you to have yours the way you want it."

"I… I don't know what I want."

He absentmindedly rubbed at her hip. "Then perhaps we'll try things until you decide."

She nodded. "Th…things? There are multiple things to do?"

He pulled her head back a bit by her hair and kissed her pulse point. "Many."

"But how…"

He couldn't lie and say he hadn't been yearning for some kind of release these last few years. Between Arra's pregnancy, the birth, and the years after her death, Cregan had not laid with another woman. He found himself yearning desperately for touch, of any sort really.

And how lucky was he that hers was so soft. 

He pushed her down on the bed softly. "Trust me?"

"In every lifetime."

Overcome with lust, he pressed his lips to hers again, starting back up the heat in their stomachs that they had played with so eagerly. 

Cregan reached up the tunic on his back, pulling it over his head. He tried to connect their lips again but she kept him from doing so.

She trailed a hand down his shoulder and to his bicep, taking in the sight of his bare torso. Her fingers paused at the feeling of a scar on his arm. Her fingers faltered. 

"It's a rather nasty scar," he whispered.

"My brother gave it to you."

"Aye," His eyes lit up. "He pushed me into a stream and-"

"-and you fell on a rock. I remember my father being so angry with him."

He kissed her yet again, and the two continued as before with a deeper connection than they had thought.

He pulled her skirt up with one hand and caressed the inside of her thigh. 

She jerked at the feeling in uncertainty. "What d-"

"Just tell me how it feels, alright?"

When she nodded, he spoke again, "Sit up for me. We'll get this dress off of you."

…

"Cre… Cregan…"

"I know. You're doing good," he panted into her ear. 

"I… there's… a feeling…"

"I know. I know, it's alright."

He pushed down on her stomach as he thrusted deeper into her, making her moan and tears pull at her eyes. 

"Give in to it. It's okay."

"I can't… I… I'm scared…" she sobbed lightly.

The hand on her stomach moved around her body, arching her back up to him. He held her closely against him in an attempt to comfort her. "I've got you." He placed open mouth kisses on her neck.

She scratched at his back harshly as she reached her peak. A whine left her lips.

"I've got you," he panted as his hips slowed when his peak neared. "I've got you."

She felt overstimulated and exhaustion filled her body. She closed her eyes for just a moment. Just a moment.

…

She woke up to the feeling of sunlight on her skin. Her eyes creaked open.

She groaned at the ache between her legs, a slight shake in the muscles of her legs. 

But what caught her attention was the tray that laid on the other side of the bed. A full breakfast sat where Cregan had supposedly once laid. 

She sat up and picked up the note that lay on the tray. 

My beautiful wife,  I hope you'll take the words of a poorly worded poet to heart, for this is a letter that I finally am sending you. No more drafts hidden in boxes and no secrets to keep. My first draft shall always be my last when addressed to you. I dare say I despise arguments. I'm not as highly tempered as your brother, and I find that I don't run hot. I suppose that it's the chill of the North that has done that. Regardless, may this be our last fight for a long while. I have had Arra's clothing removed from all closets, and the traces of her are now few. Her portrait stays in the library and her remains in the crypts, but the greatest things she left behind were my boy and a gash in my heart. I believe you'll care for both of those things greatly.  But you'll not live in that room. You'll find your dresses in my wardrobe now. I don't believe I can part from you for too long now that I have you. This will be my first and last letter to you, for now you'll hear everything from my lips alone.  But I thought you deserved at least one letter after all these years. Your Cregan

"I told them to fetch me when you woke up," he commented from the doorway.

She gasped at his sudden appearance, "Good morning."

"It's after high noon, I dare say."

"Is it?" She looked at the window. "I'm sorry. It was not my intention to-"

"-Are you alright?" He interrupted.

Her brows furrowed. "I'm fine."

"I've never had a woman succumb to sleep like you did. Felt I did something wrong." He rubbed at his shoulder anxiously.

"No, it felt… it felt good. Quite good," she nodded. She took into account that she was still naked in his bed, but she was rather clean. "Did you…"

He flushed. "Oh. Um.. no. No, I didn't. Don't worry."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's not that I didn't want to," he tried to explain then backtracked. "I mean… you fell asleep and once I knew you were alright, I um… I couldn't do that to you."

"That's," she hummed. "That's noble of you."

He chuckled. "It's the least I could do for you. And the note?" He asked to change the subject.

She held it up and reread it. "Thank you. For… all of it."

He stepped to the side and kissed her head, "Anything for my beautiful wife."

"And you, my poet, Lord Stark."

He gripped her chin and forced her head up to look at him. "Don't let the others know," he teased.

"I dare not. This is something I want all to myself."

"Then you have me- heart, mind, and body."

.......................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867

[aloesarchives]

JJK Headcanon: Megumi cockblocks Toji/Megumi "Menace" Fushiguro/ Toji having beef with his 15 yr old son

Warning: Swearing, Female reader, Mentions of sexual activities but not explicit, ooc on Megumi’s part, Toji being Toji

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader(romantic), Megumi x Mom!reader(parental/platonic)

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader is referred to as mom, mama, and mother by Toji and Megumi)

Word Count: 2.2K

(A/N: This is based on my one-shot I did and I wanted to expand on it because I just felt the need to. This headcanon went off the rails and is in different directions. Let me know if I missed any warnings!)

[Edited and Proofread! on 12/9/23 8:05pm. Forgive the strange format, Tumblr wouldn’t let me edit the post so I had to do it on the original doc and paste the edited version.]

Please enjoy!

So Megumi cock blocking Toji started out unintentionally and by accident. But as he got older, he did it more to annoy his dad and get on his nerves.

I will die on this hill but Megumi is a Mama's boy. Though it goes unsaid(by him at least), everyone knows it. Toji knows it, Gojo knows it, his classmates and friends know it, and everyone at Jujutsu High knows it. Hell, his own shadows know it.

Obviously you know it but you don’t want to embarrass your son. But it does fill you with love and contentment to know your son loves you dearly.

But that’s the problem, he LOVES you. Loves you more than Toji. Well, Megumi loves Toji as a dad and father. It’s just as he gets older, especially as a teenager, he often butts heads with Toji and gets fairly annoyed by his presence. All Toji has to do is breathe in Megumi’s direction and your son groans, rolls his eyes, and leaves.

When Megumi was younger, he was attached to you. You were always carrying him inside the house, when you were cooking, and even when folding the laundry. He didn’t like being far from you. All you had to do was be within 6 feet of your son or where he can see you and he will be fine.

So when Toji holds Megumi because you need to get or do something where you can’t bring your son, Megumi is all fussy and cranky. He doesn’t cry often but he is just all over Toji. Pulling at his hair, shirt, and cheek. Toji has been mostly successful with Megumi when putting him down for a nap, feeding or bathing him but sometimes it’s a struggle.

When you do it for Megumi, he is all cooperative and easy to handle. Toji clicks his tongue when he sees it happen and looks at Megumi as your son nuzzles into your shoulder. “I see how it is Megumi. All nice and easy for Mama but not for me.”

After successfully putting Megumi to bed, Toji gets frisky as wants some alone time with you. Since Megumi was born, your son has taken up most of your time. Leaving your poor husband with a lack of attention and affection. You want to make it up to him for lost time so you let him have his way with you.

However, just before Toji could go down on you and make you see stars, you hear Megumi’s crying. So out of instinct, you grab one of Toji’s shirts and make your way to comfort your son. Half the time, the mood gets instantly lost and Toji gets sexually frustrated. He was so close to boning you and your son just has to stop him from doing so. 

Toji gets blue balls so many times during Megumi’s youth, it’s a straight-up crime to him.

There are times when Toji doesn’t care if Megumi starts to cry in his bed. He read somewhere that babies just cry for no reason so at times let them cry it out. When he reads that, he’s not letting you out of his grasp when his son is crying in his crib. You feel the urge to comfort him but when Toji makes you wait a couple minutes and start to hear Megumi’s cries grow quieter, then they stop. That gives you two the green light to each other to yourselves.

75% Toji would have success with you but there was the other 25% he didn’t.

When Megumi was a toddler, he mostly would knock on your door in the dead of night either because he had a nightmare or wanted to sleep with you two. Luckily, this happens after your “nightly session” with Toji.

But Megumi would ask Toji to help him with stuff or pop up out of nowhere when wanted to have a piece of you. Toji hugging your front and cups your body while you cook? Megumi is by the kitchen table asking what are you making for dinner. Toji cages you against the wall as you put away the laundry? Megumi pops his head out of his room and asks Toji if he saw his dog plushie that was on his bed. 

But Megumi’s clinginess to you is genetic because Toji is the exact same to you. Way before Megumi was on the drawing board, Toji was either all over you or near you. No in between, it was one or the other.

You felt bad because it feels like your son and your husband are fighting for your attention. You know Megumi’s a child, who needs more guidance and help, but you know your husband has needs too. 

But as Megumi goes to school, it was easier for you two to have some alone time. Mostly easier for Toji to be inside of you.

But as Megumi gets the hang of summoning his shadows, it’s all over for Toji. This happens when he’s older as Megumi sometimes lets his dogs out and roam around the house. Like their user, the dogs and shadows love you too. One time, they saw Toji being too close to you and thought he was harassing you. So the dogs ran and pounced on Toji. One of them caught Toji’s wrists in their mouth and started pulling him away from you. Obviously, you called Megumi over to stop his dogs or to call them back. He does so but not without giving Toji a smirk, he definitely may or may not put his dogs up to it just to fuck around with his dad.

For the timely and observant boy he is, Megumi really is just popping in at the wrong times. He didn’t mean to do that to you, he’s well aware of how much you love Toji, both body and soul. He just doesn’t like how Toji isn’t quick and sleek with his intentions with you. Sure, it was Toji’s house and he can do whatever he wants in it. But Megumi also lives here too, so Toji should be more cautious and considerate of his son. Because everyone knows that they would rather bury themselves than see their parents try to give them another sibling.

Though Megumi now dorms at Jujutsu High because of missions, he does come home on weekends and breaks. But it varies from time to time, he would mostly tell you in advance when he would come home or visit. But he sometimes forgets and just drops by unannounced.  

Thus, that’s how scenarios like this occur. 

He will come home, sometimes knocking/ringing the doorbell but mostly lets himself in, then he walks inside, takes off his shoes, and goes to the living room. His heart slightly beats faster as he awaits the inevitable. It’s like a coin toss, 50/50 chance he’ll be safe or not. He relaxes when he doesn't stumble upon another eye bleaching but when he encounters the other 50%. He cringes inside so hard, he just blames Toji. Nah, he never blames you.

Yes, he’s well aware of men and women having… carnal desires… But you were never shameless about it in public or out in the open. He doesn’t know when it’s just Toji and you. But frankly, he DOES NOT WANT to know or find out. So he believes his father is just a dog in heat almost every time there is an OUNCE of spare time with you.

He either coughs, grunts or speaks to make his presence known. 99% of the time when this happens you are the one to push yourself away from Toji and try to make the situation less awkward for your son. It always ends up embarrassing you in the end.

Toji, in his head, lowkey wants to smack his son to another dimension. Way too salty in his mind.

‘Brat, let me have a moment with your mother, it’s not that hard.’ ‘IDGAF if you're my son, I’ll smack and give hands to my own son if you keep doing this.’

Like father like son, Megumi is doing the same thing in his head.

‘That’s a skill issue’ ‘This is an issue, not an iss-me’ ‘You fell off, what happened? Cause you’re too old?’ ‘Fucking cope, Old Man’.

Because of this, Toji literally has beef with his 15-year-old son. 

Should he be pressed about someone younger than him? No! Does he care? Also No. If this man can beef and fight Gojo Satoru and LIVE to see another day, he can have beef with anyone. 

Even if it’s his own son.

You should be a good parent and spouse and try to dissipate the fact your husband and son have an unspoken feud with each other. But you can’t help but watch everything unfold when they interact sometimes because it’s just funny and you get a kick out of it. 

Just to clarify, it’s never a shouting match or an actual argument. It’s more of petty insults, backhanded compliments, or brutal honesty minus the honesty. It’s like being a spectator at an event. You were watching for entertainment and you were getting your money’s worth. When you would come by Jujutsu High, you would talk about Megumi and Toji’s “interactions”. Saying something along the lines of “They don’t see eye to eye.”

One day, Toji and you decided to pay a visit to the campus because Principal Yagi needed to ask you about something in person. Since it was only you, Toji just wandered the halls and the school’s grounds, waiting for you to be done. As the odds were in his favor as he stumbled upon Megumi and his group doing some training. Toji just pops in and starts talking to Megumi. He acknowledged Yuuji and Nobara but he didn’t spare a glance at Gojo. In fact, he straight up looked at Gojo, gave a look of disgust, and continued talking to Megumi whilst ignoring him.

It didn’t take for some banter to rise between father and son, while no loud voices or malice was felt or seen. This was probably the few times Yuuji and Nobara had seen Megumi get heated, but this was the first time they saw Megumi beefing with his dad.

After a few minutes, Megumi summoned his shadows and Toji decided to change into his fighting stances. Yuuji thinks this is a bad idea but Gojo just smiles, saying that seeing them spar was a “learning experience”. Plus it would be good for Yuuji to watch Toji because Toji was a physical fighter considering his Heavenly Restriction. Though Yuuji has some curse energy, he must box it out with his opponents so he considered and the three watched the two fight it out. 

Megumi forgot his old man was an actual threat to the Jujutsu Society because Toji was straight up dodging Megumi’s shadows, their attacks, and even Megumi's own physical attacks. Though Toji wanted to have a little fun, he had to hold back so he wouldn't destroy/kill any of Megumi’s shadows. If he did, you would definitely find out and he would be a dead man for sure.

Anyway, it was so fast-paced that only Gojo was keeping up with the action. He was smiling but he had a shiver up his spine as he remembered that Megumi’s dad was the very reason for his enlightenment and Hollow Purple ability. It was obvious that Megumi wasn’t going to win but he wasn’t one to admit defeat. Then like a blur, Toji charged at Megumi from above and when he landed he created a decently large cater with Megumi at the center. Megumi’s shadows disappear since he is low on curse energy and is completely exhausted.

Both men were heaving and sweating like crazy. Yet out of nowhere, they suddenly hear your voice, LOUD and DESTRESS. You ran over to the two, eyes widening as the carter became bigger the closer you got. You see your son lying on the floor and help him up. You tried dusting off some of the dirt on him while looking concerned. You snapped your head towards Toji, whose smirk disappeared and then returned back again. You began to reprimand him for what he had done. Fighting his own son and damaging the training grounds, like wtf man.

You weren’t really raising your voice or yelling at him. But the firmness and seriousness in your tone about the small sparring session was enough to make someone straighten their posture and use very respective language towards you. There were moments where you tugged at Toji’s ear, pulled at his shirt so he was looking straight at you, or held his forearm tightly while you expressed your disappointment and concerns to him.

Ngl, Toji was a bit bricked up when you were all serious and angry at him. He didn’t mind sleeping on the couch if it meant he got to see this side of yours more often. 

Megumi reassures you that he is not physically hurt but his pride is wounded. You told him that if his dad pulled this again, to not engage with it and back off for his own safety. Megumi, because of his agitated mood, felt a bit offended that you didn’t believe your own son could hold his own. Let alone, go toe to toe with his own father.

“Mom, I don’t understand. Why don’t you trust me in fights even though I can handle myself.”

“Megumi, sweetheart, it’s not like that at all. I know you are a strong, smart, and capable person. You are my son, after all.”

“Then why don’t you want me to fight with dad?”

“Oh Megumi, honey. You have no idea the strength and capabilities of your father. You do realize, my dear, your dad was holding back a lot when he was sparring with you.”

Megumi looks shocked at his Pops, who winks at him, before turning his attention back to you.

“Wait, what? Just how strong is he, Mom?”

You didn’t give him a full answer.

All you said was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.”

Megumi and his two classmates look at their teacher to see what you were talking about all the while Gojo was sweating bullets. That’s a story for another day, now you are dragging your husband home and telling your son to call you if anything changes.

So Toji and Megumi have eternal beef with each other. Though it’s more of annoyance and for shits and giggles really. Toji really does love his son and Megumi loves and respects his dad a lot.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading and hope you have an amazing day with your favorite drink!

[yeokii]

SAND CASTLES AND FIRST LOVES — PARK SUNGHOON

synopsis . a day at the beach was for relaxing and also apparently for meeting your first love?

psh : new kid! sunghoon x fmr O.8K — fluff, crack ❨ warnings ❩ 🫧 teeth rotting fluff I PUKED. 𓍼 note — chat can u tell im tweakinh┆(bookshelf)

The sun iced your hands as you squinted your eyes under the hot weather. It was perfect. All you could do was sit down and relax and just babysit your sister? Right? It couldn't be that hard to watch over a five year old.

But one small thing you quite forgot was how hyper that little brat could be. Now you were stuck in being the little devil's assistant in help make her numerous sandcastles.

"Y/n! Don't you think that one is a bit crooked?" Your little sister pointed at the sand castle that you just made.

You dramatically sighed at your sister's remarks, "Jeez, wouldn't hurt for a compliment."

"Crooked towers don't get compliments!" Your sister huffed, "Now get to work." She said and continued making more sand castles, filling the mold with the damp sand sitting on the land.

You oughta throw her into the ocean if you could, but you stayed calm and followed the boss's orders.

Just as it started to get calm with no more snarky remarks from your little sister and calm waves crashing the sand near you, you were towered by a tall, slim figure.

Before you could even let out a warning, one of your precious sandcastles were toppled down by the boy's feet. Your sister didn't seem to care as she continued to make more sand figures to compliment her sandy mansion, but that was the one that you were most proud of so you knew you had to give him a piece of your mind.

"Hey! Watch it!" You stood up to face the rude boy, your hands on resting at your hips.

The boy turned around and you realised that it was the new kid in your school. Sunghoon looked youthful and charming as ever, his dark hair was slightly tousled from the breeze.

But the thing that caught your attention the most was the genuine look in his eyes, "I'm really sorry about that." He said, looking at the destroyed sandcastle.

"Oh— no it's fine!" You awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of your head after resizing you just screamed at the cutest boy you met.

"No really," He smiled sincerely. "Let me fix it." He knelt down, ready to fix the structure of the sandcastle.

"You don't have to do that you know," You giggled, kneeling down to his level. "I've seen you around..."

He furrowed his eyebrows and shot his eyes at you.

"Oh no! Not like that." You laughed once again. "I meant at school. New kid, yeah?"

He chuckled with you, nodding his head. "How come I've never seen your pretty face around?"

Oh jeez.

You blushed at his flirty remark, shrugging your shoulders not really knowing what to say.

"Hey! Stop flirting and get back to making the sandcastles. New kid, quick!" The little devil sassed, making your eyes widened.

"Shut up!" You whisper-screamed at her and looked back at Sunghoon with a sheepish smile, "Sorry about her. She gets a bit bossy sometimes."

"No she's right." He laughed, "Sorry miss, I'll get straight onto it." He said, trying to fix the sandcastle as quick as possible which made a snicker escape from you.

Sunghoon looked back up at you, finding your giggles really cute. The way your hair ever so slightly brushed against your face due to the light breeze and the sun slightly reflecting in your eyes, making it twinkle just might've been the cherry onto to make his heart skip a beat.

Gosh, you looked really pretty.

He was in a daze watching you make some sandcastles, craving out the minute details onto it with a slight smile fixed onto your face. He slowly panned it to your little sister staring dead straight at him.

Sunghoon went right back to the sandcastle he was fixing, clearing his throat hoping your little sister would be a little less intimidating.

"There, all done." He smiled, while getting back up.

"Hmm, good job new kid." Your little sister crossed her arms together. "It's better than Y/n's" She giggled, making you glare at her.

"Thank you though," You thanked him once again.

"No it's my fault." He brushed it off, "How about I make it up to you? What about some ice cream?"

You smiled at the request, "Of course, I'd love to."

"Me too." Your sister butted in as she walking closer to Sunghoon making him giggle.

"Sure princess." Sunghoon said, ruffled her hair and looked back at you. His warm brown eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

As you three walked away to head to an ice cream stand, Sunghoon stayed close by your side. He knew he didn't need to say nothing more; the look in his eyes said it all. And as your arm gently brushed against his, you suddenly became aware of how close you were.

And that today might be the day you would never forget, the summer leaving a fresh stain in your mind—the summer where you met your first love.

tags . @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @aishigrey

[enviedear]

you've picked some easter lillies !

— jason todd

! one shots ੈ♡˳

honey don't feed it, it will come back ━━━ in which working undercover alongside your ex-boyfriend feels like cruel and unusual punishment. like a feral hound—he keeps coming back into your life.

loving alone is what you make it ━━━ jason having (what he thinks is) an unrequited crush | requested

you should let me ride shotgun ━━━ in which jason todd shares in your dilemma of keeping this security arrangement professional. lines tend to blur so easily though. bodyguard!jason

you didn't see my valentine, i sent it via pantomime ━━━ could i request jason todd being jealous of dick and reader who is slightly older and he’s harboured a crush on since his robin days? AND jason todd/reader + jealousy | requested

the legend of gotham hollow ━━━ your small town is overrun with strange happenings. murders and deceit run rampant, so much so, that you're wary of trusting a single soul. superstitions have become as sacred as the holy book, delusions making up most of the townsfolk's minds. particularly that of the feared headless horseman. so when constable jason todd comes into town, impassioned to find an end to the madness, you vow to aid your mission. sleepy hollow!au

the ghost in your room ━━━ on hallows eve, jason todd undergoes his worst nightmare. death, or rather, the thin line between living and death. he's cursed to reanimate, walk the earth again—only as a malformed spirit, a mere shadow of life. a cruel fate, that he’s dead set on making enjoyable. for him, at least. ghost!jason

the beast of the unknown ━━━ there’s a known beast within the woods—the fearsome death of hope. he’s known to run amok every full moon, hunting for victims. searching for the last of their hope to steal away. how unfortunate for you to get lost in his woods tonight. eldritch!jason

! hc's & thoughts ੈ♡˳

jason and never saying the right thing... | ...unless the helmet is on

jason owning a body shop / mechanic!jason

jason can't push you away

jason todd + scream

jason's views on domesticity (imo)

bodyguard!jason

jason + love letters | jason + post cards

jason and being shown off

jason todd is a man of action | nsfw 18+

jason is a yearner

jason mourning his youth

jason helping you control rent prices | nsfw 18+

jason's hair

jason steals your things

jason will always make your birthday special

jason loves to hear you talk

jason and getting the last word

college!jason thoughts

jason todd and control | nsfw 18+

farmer!jason | 👤ྀི 🎧ྀི 🧸ྀི 💋ྀིྀི

buying a home with jason

jason's big three and enneagram (imo)

fanart for this fic by @luffyadolover !!!!

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Dear Diary

Emo!Anakin Skywalker x Femme reader Oneshot

Warnings: CNC, Dom/Sub, predator/prey, rape kink, unprotected PiV, misogyny, derogatory comments, knife, bondage, gagging, blood, whipping, spanking, spitting, slapping, biting, mask kink

Info: never leave your diary unattended, he loves you so much that he’ll do anything for you, don’t question why Anakin is so good at being scary (he’s straight up terrifying)

🕊DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT 🕊 This is DARK

“Hey, you know there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” Anakin’s soft voice floated down to where your head rested in his lap on this sleepy Sunday afternoon.

“Mmm?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly to look up at his face.

You expected to see a soft expression to match the gentle tone of voice, but you were mistaken. His lip had a sneaky little curve to it, like he had a secret that he was dying to share. He reached his long arm over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. Fishing something out and holding it up for you to see.

Your diary. It wasn’t one of his secrets. It was yours.

You squealed in protest and shot up from your resting place much too fast. After being sedentary all day long your brain had a hard time remembering what it needed to do in a high-stakes situation. After the dizzy spell settled slightly you tried and failed to snatch that horrid little book away from him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

You should’ve known better than to keep a written record of anything, let alone your darkest secrets, with Anakin around. That handsome little shit can’t keep his dirty little paws off of your or your stuff.

“Anakin please!” You pleaded, pouting out your bottom lip.

“Shhh baby.” He laughed, flipping through the pages. “I occasionally read a few pages… just to make sure you’re happy with me of course.”

Right. Of course he would do that.

“Cause sometimes you don’t like to talk about your feelings right?” He chided.

“Yeah.” You grumbled.

“And it seems like my sweet sweet girl had some dirty thoughts since the last time I checked this book.” A sickly saccharine smile materialized on his lips

“Anakin no!” You gasped, hiding your face in embarrassment.

“Bunny, yes!” He teasingly replied.

“Look, right here it is princess. About a month ago. I took you to that new horror movie remember?”

“Yes.” You squeaked.

Anakin nodded, clearing his throat as he ran his finger under the messy scribbles in your diary.

“You said: ‘that scene where he’s chasing her through the woods and caught her? Christ that growl was sinful, but coming from Anakin? I’d be a goner. Knife and all.’”

You blushed fiery red and snatched it from his hands, tossing it to the floor defiantly despite knowing the damage had already been done.

"Anakin that is none of your business!" You pouted.

"But it is now, isn't it?" He whispered, tracing circles on your throat with his thumb.

"It’s okay darlin’ I don’t need that silly little book. I’ve memorized the good parts.” He chuckled as he spotted it on the floor.

“What else did you say? 'I want him rough, maybe even have him wear a mask like in the movie.'” He grinned gripping your cheeks to puff out your lips and give you a playful kiss.

“So I said to myself: ‘Anakin, that sounds like a challenge.’ and you know I love a challenge.”

“Anakin! You weren’t supposed to see that!” You yelped. “That’s embarrassing!”

Anakin chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh no? I think I need to see this fantasy of yours come true."

He released your cheeks and stood up, rummaging through the closet until he found an old hockey mask that he'd worn during his youth.

"Stay here," he commanded before disappearing into the living room.

You sat and stewed in your embarrassment, thinking of all the ways you’d like to squeeze his tiny head until it popped off. How dare he? He read your diary! Ridiculous.

His voice called your name and you were snapped out of your emotional festering.

“C’mon. We got places to be.” Anakin grinned, the car keys in his hand and a small backpack slung over his shoulder.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

He wants to go somewhere now? After he’d just humiliated you in front of your entire collection of stuffed animals?

Anakin nodded, a devilish grin on his face. "We're going on an adventure, Bunny."

Oh. Oh no.

“You’re serious?” You gasped. “like right now?”

He tossed the backpack into the backseat of his Ford pickup truck and opened the passenger door for you, waiting for you to get in. He clicked his tongue like he was calling for a dog, patting your head to scoot you along.

"Come on, baby," he urged, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "Where we're going, no one can find us."

You blushed, but obeyed regardless. You trusted him with your life and depending on how this excursion went you might just end up putting that trust to the test.

“W-we don’t have to do this Ani.” You said quietly.

“I mean… I never even- I didn’t think you’d ever find out.”

Anakin's grin faded slightly, his eyes softening as he cupped your face. "Baby, it's okay. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," he reassured you.

"I want to make this happen for you. Plus, I think this will be fun." He added with a smirk, the sincerity in his voice reflected in the icy blue of his eyes.

He climbed into the driver's seat, starting the engine and pulling out of your driveway.

“Like you’re sure you wanna do this? Like you actually want to? Not just because you know I wanna try it?” You asked, picking at your fingers as you forced myself to make eye contact.

Anakin met your gaze, his eyes filled with an understanding for your concerns. "I want this as much as you do, Bunny," he promised.

"So let's go have some fun, shall we?" he asked, pulling out onto the highway.

You slipped your hand into his, the drive was only about 30 minutes. Even with the short distance it seemed like you were far, far away from anyone and anything. The afternoon sun was dwindling quickly over the horizon. It made you wonder if Anakin had done alittle research and a lot of planning before enacting this ambush on you.

“Look at me bunny.” Anakin said softly.

“Safe word is red okay? You say red and every thing stops immediately. Understand?”

“Yes.” You nodded giving him a little smile.

“Good.” He agreed with a kiss to your forehead. His eyes bright and sparkling with this new brand of adrenaline. “Here’s the plan.”

“Once we get out of this truck, you’re the pretty little victim and I’m the big scary killer.” He teased, though he held a serious tone behind the playful words.

“Is that okay? I won’t talk like myself, I’m gonna do my best to be mean and scary okay?”

“Yeah that’s okay,” You blushed at the thought.

“I want you to run. I’ll give you a pretty good head start. Don’t look behind you until you hit the tree line okay?” He grinned.

“Okay I can do that.” You giggled, the reality of your situation kicking in as you began to realize Anakin *had* done his research. He really did want to do this just as much as you did.

“I’ve got a mask.” He pulled out the hockey mask from his bag. “A rope, a knife, and a bandanna. Are these things okay? It’s a real knife, it’s one of the kitchen knives.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, biting your lip as you looked at him, already imagining him in character. “yeah that’s all okay.”

“Do you want me to cut you?” He asked, staring you in the eyes.

“M-maybe alittle.” You nodded, your expression turned serious again. “just not where anyone else can see okay?”

“Got it babydoll. I promise.” He said gently.

“Okay.” You smiled, nervous but so so excited.

“I’m gonna put my hair up.” You giggled. Tying your hair up in a ponytail.

Anakin watched you, a mix of excitement and protectiveness in his eyes. "You look so fucking hot," he muttered, his voice low and rough.

"Alright, princess," he said, his voice now deep and menacing. He grabbed the hockey mask, and held it in your direction to point at you.

"Get out of the truck and run as fast as you can. Don't look back until you reach the tree line." He paused, reaching for the knife, sheathing it on his hip. Shoving the rope in his hoodie pocket, the bandanna in his jeans pocket.

"Remember, red means stop. Whatever happens from here on out, I'll make sure you're safe."

You watched him put the mask on, heart pounding in your chest as you unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out of the truck into the cooling dusk air. Anakin got out of the truck on his side, looking over at you and nodding his head.

“Run.” He snarled, his features completely hidden by the mask and distorting his voice a bit more than you’d anticipated.

Your only light source was the setting sun and rising moon as you booked it through the field, keeping your eyes forward as your heart beat quickly. You reached the tree line and finally looked back, seeing Anakin running at a full sprint toward you. The prey instinct in your hindbrain kicked into overdrive and adrenaline flooded like ice through your veins.

You froze for a moment until you heard what could only be described as a psychotic laugh ripped through Anakin’s chest. Finally back to your senses you turned on your toes and started running again, only to be tripped by your own feet.

You steadied yourself quickly and recovered your pace after a sharp squeal left you when your knees hit the ground. Your burst of fear driven speed surprised you, but only fueled Anakin’s laughter. You weren’t sure if he was laughing as himself or as the character he was playing, either way… it was terrifying.

You made the mistake of looking back again and realized how quickly he was gaining on you. He had given you a generous headstart for a good reason. Like he’d anticipated you’d fawn instead of flee.

How did he know that?

Anakin was closing the gap, his breath heavy but not labored as he chased after you. You wondered what his eyes looked like behind that mask. Would they be familiar? Or would they be akin to a cold blooded killer?

You stumbled as you whipped your head back to the path ahead and he lunged forward, wrapping his arm around your chest and tackling you to the ground with a heavy thump.

The mask hid his grin as he pinned you down with his body weight, but you could * feel * it. The satisfaction he felt at catching his trophy was palpable, now… now you weren’t completely certain your Anakin was really there behind that hard plastic mask.

"Caught you bitch." He growled, his voice remained menacing. "You're mine now."

You struggled against him, the sides of your fists not even coming close to making contact with his chest. His grip on you was painful, bruising and just what you wanted.

“N-no!” You whimpered. So incredibly turned on by his aggression.

He was surprisingly great at this role, he was doing everything perfectly as if he’d done it before. A nagging thought tickled your mind, what if? But he gave you no time to consider it.

“No?” He laughed, rolling you underneath him so that your face was pressed into the forest floor. His knee pressing down on your back as he roughly tied your arms together behind your back with a practiced ease.

“No! Please!” He mocked you in a whiny impression of your voice.

“Pathetic.” He hissed.

You fought harder, wriggling and trying to get out of his grasp. His hand gripped your ponytail with enough force to make your scalp sting, yanking your head back.

“Stop fucking moving.” He growled as brought his lips to your ear, then he let go of your hair cruelly letting you face plant into the dirt.

“Ow!” You whined in pain, it actually did hurt. Not bad, just enough to make you see stars and feel heat bloom across your cheek.

“P-please! Stop!”

He laughed, the sound gritty and almost unrecognizable. He used both hands to roughly tug your jeans down your thighs, using the knife to cut your underwear off.

You wriggled and squirmed, panting helplessly as all your movement did was undress you further. Your jeans bunched around your knees, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to whatever he had planned for you.

Anakin's breaths were ragged, his heart pounding in sync with yours as he stood over you. Lightly tapping your hip with the toe of his shoe.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," He snarled. "You made me work for it."

He took the knife, running it down your side, as he kneeled beside you. Forcibly turning your head to make you look at him. He trailed the knife along the back of your thighs, leaving tiny threads of red behind.

"Now you're gonna pay for your insolence." His voice was harsh and cold with an undeniable lust hidden beneath.

“No! No I’ll do anything I swear!” You cried out. Kicking and fighting against him as best as you could.

You heard him taking off his belt, felt him shoving his jeans down and even the familiar grunt as he pulled out his cock.

“I told you to shut your fucking mouth didn’t I?” He snapped at you.

Gripping his belt tightly in his hands he cracked the leather across your ass hard, causing you to scream out in pain.

“Stupid whore.” He scoffed. “what did I just say? You want it again?”

“N-no! Fuck that hurt!” You yelled.

“God you really are stupid aren’t you?” He laughed, cracking the leather down on your red ass cheeks again.

This time you were able to bite down on your lip and suppress the loud crying moan that tried to escape. You knew the tender flesh of your bottom lip would definitely be an angry red for the next few days as a taste of blood hit your tongue.

“That’s better.” He scoffed.

Pumping his cock a few times behind you before spreading your ass cheeks wide and smacking your hip hard to get you to lift up just a bit.

He set his sights on your incredibly drenched pussy. The view might make a weaker man cum on the spot, but Anakin wasn’t a weak man. He’d made that very clear today.

“Never seen you so fucking wet.” He whispered, in awe of the dripping mess you’d made of your cunt. The momentary break of character that you weren’t supposed to hear reassured you that it was definitely still Anakin under that mask.

Anakin's cock twitched, his eyes locked on your pulsing hole, watching it flutter around nothing. He chuckled and spit on his hand before rubbing it on the head of his cock. Letting out a low groan as he tugged on his balls for good measure.

"You're going to take this like a good little slut," He growled, lining up his thickness with your entrance. "And you're not going to fucking scream."

With a low hiss he thrust into you, your body protesting the sudden intrusion with a jerk. You failed to listen to his command and let out a muffled cry behind closed lips as he sank deep inside your heat.

"Quiet, bitch," he warned, pulling back and thrusting again, setting a rough rhythm. "Or I'll really give you somethin’ to cry about.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you whimpered and moaned and drooled in spite of his warnings. The feeling of being taken so roughly, but knowing you were safe… was intoxicating. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt.

Anakin moved suddenly and you saw a flash of red before he yanked back your head, shoving the bandanna in your mouth to use as a gag.

You coughed and gagged on the dry fabric as he forced it in your mouth. Anakin's thrusts became more frantic, his hips moving in quick, hard strokes. With the gag in place you let yourself be loud, there was no point in staying quiet right? If you were heard it would be * his * fault for not properly securing your gag.

"Dirty little thing aren’t you? Filthy. You like this don’t you!? Huh?" He snarled, slapping your ass hard with his free hand. "Scream for me, you fucking whore. No body can hear you. No body is coming to help you."

You moaned into the gag, body trembling as he pounded into you relentlessly. Each slap of skin against wetness echoed in the still night air, punctuating your defilement.

"C’mon, you can fight harder than that." He growled, grinding against you he placed one hand on your lower back and used it as leverage to hold you in place.

He laughed loudly, clearly enjoying the power trip he was on. He’d never fucked you like this before, he’d been rough yes… but this? This was blinding. Hot, white, blinding pleasure that spilled over into pain.

“So fucking tight.” He groaned. “pitiful little pussy. Bet you were a virgin weren’t you?”

You whimpered, the bandanna in your mouth wet from saliva. Tears dripping down your cheeks from his rough treatment. Your legs shaking violently as he fucked you into the dirt.

And he expected you to speak?

“Answer me.” He demanded, ripping the fabric from your mouth, the suddenness of it being pulled from your throat made you gag violently.

“C’mon. Talk to me. You’ve been dying to fucking talk and now you’ve got nothin’ to say?”

“Y-yes.” You sobbed, unable to form more than a few words. “Virgin.”

“Oh I knew it. Fuckin’ knew it.” He groaned.

Anakin's thrusts grew more furious, his cock sliding in and out of your tight ‘virgin’ pussy with each word grunt and groan that fell from his pretty lips. His hand gripped your hair, pulling your head back when you started squirming out from under him again.

"You think you can get away from me? Think you can run? You’re mine now, bitch." He spat, slapping the side of your face. "I own your little cunt now."

You cried harder from the pain, tears streaming down your dirt streaked face as he continued to pound into you without mercy.

"No one else is gonna touch you. No one else is gonna have you." He growled, his words thick with possession.

“Gonna take you home. Tie you up.” He grunted. “Fuck you whenever I want.”

“No one’s gonna miss you are they?” He laughed, “Just a worthless little nobody aren’t you? Yeah, you are.”

“That’s okay though sweetheart.” He cooed, sweetness laced with venom. “I want you. I want you all to myself, show you that all you’re good for is this.”

He spit, ripping his mask off to bite you hard, leaving clear teeth marks on your shoulder. The mask hit the ground near your head and you stared at it with big wide red-rimmed eyes as a violent orgasm ripped through you. Your cunt spasmed around him, slick leaking out and coating your thighs.

The squelching noises filled you with a new wave of embarrassment and fresh tears wetted your cheeks. You might’ve been done, but Anakin wasn’t. He had no plans of stopping now, this wasn’t over until he said it was.

“Stop! Please oh god.” You whined, scrunching your nose up as your body vibrated from the overstimulation.

“Stop? Oh you don’t mean that.” He moaned. “you just fucking creamed all over my cock.”

“Don’t lie to me. You know you like it.” He snickered, you could hear the grin gracing his lips.

“No! No! Please! I don’t!” You struggled, trying to get out of your bindings, the rope digging further into your wrists. “Please stop!”

“Fuck toys don’t talk.” He growled.

Anakin shifted his weight, now leaning with his forearm across your back, his sharp elbow cutting into the muscle to give himself an extra edge to his brutality. You thought he was comfortable in his position, but you were wrong. This was just a transition period.

His arm slid up your back to wrap your hair around his fist, exposing your neck and pining you in place.

A glint of sliver shined in your peripheral, followed by the cool metal blade of his knife on the soft skin of your throat. He had the flat side pressed firmly beneath your Adam’s apple. Anakin's thrusts grew more frantic, his cock sliding in and out of your tight, weeping pussy as he held the knife.

"One word," he growled, his eyes dark with lust and dominance. "And you’ll wish you were dead."

You whimpered, body shaking as you struggled against my bindings. Your cunt clenched around him, milking his cock with each powerful thrust.

"Make me cum, bitch." He snarled, his breathing labored. "Or I’ll slit your fucking throat right here."

His words sent a jolt of electricity through you. This was sick, you were sick. How could you possibly like this? Being threatened with a knife against your throat? You didn’t know, didn’t understand and maybe didn’t even want to. Maybe the logistics behind the thrill of this was better off unexplored. You decided then and there you would never let yourself explore that nagging little ‘what if’ about Anakin too.

His grip on the knife tightened, his thrusts becoming harder with each passing second. You controlled your breathing as best you could. Trying desperately not to move as another orgasm washed over your tired body. Your entire being vibrating with the intense energy, cunt spasming around his twitching member, leaking and dripping slick all over again.

“That's it," Anakin growled, his hips moving faster and harder, growing sloppy. His breathing ragged as he felt himself nearing the finish line. "C’mon, make me fucking cum and I’ll let you live."

"You're gonna say thank you after I cum. You hear me?" He snarled, biting the nape of your neck roughly like a dog in heat.

His balls tightened up, his cock pulsating inside you. Your pussy tightly enveloping him, feeling every twitch and jerk.

You squeaked as the cool blade dragged across your throat in a way that felt alittle too real, a little to close to being sliced open. Though you breathed a sigh of relief as the knife now pressed into your shoulder blade. The sharp tip popping through your skin.

“Gonna put a little ‘A’ right here. You want that? Answer me!” He asked through clenched teeth, staving off his orgasm in favor of torturing you.

“No! Please it hurts!” You screamed, the pain bringing you so incredibly close to cumming again.

He let out a familiar whine, followed by a choked moan as he carved the first letter of his name into your unblemished shoulder.

“You should’ve kept still. Now it’s crooked.” He scoffed.

You screamed out in pleasure, hiccuping as you tried to catch your breath. Anakin’s cock throbbing inside your abused walls. You whimpered as an overwhelming orgasm took hold of you. Your body convulsing in a way it never had before, with Anakin never slowing his hard albeit mess pace. He laughed as he watched your bound hands clasp themselves together as you held your breath.

The dam broke and you squirted, making a mess of yourself and him. You could feel the hot wet liquid dripping down your legs, hear it sloshing and squelching with each thrust.

Anakin’s laugh cut off into a choked groan, his cock jerking violently inside you as he came. His thrusts becoming wild and erratic, his body shaking with the force of his release.

"Fuck," he growled, collapsing against you as he finished. "You're a fucking mess, aren’t you?"

You sobbed into the dirt, body still trembling from the intense orgasm. Your pussy clenching around his softening cock, milking him for every last drop of cum.

"That’s right. Good girl.” He moaned, slowly pumping in and out of your swollen and well used cunt.

“Atta girl. You’re a good fuck so long as you keep your mouth shut.” Anakin let out a pained whine as he pulled out of you, leaving your pussy gaping and filled with his seed.

He cut the rope from your wrists and hissed when he saw the red marks. He broke character again for the simple fact that he felt terribly about accidentally hurting you. It was one thing to do it purposely, but this was unacceptable, he chided himself for tying you too tightly under his breath. He leaned down to kiss each wrist gently before tapping your ass with his hand.

“Get up. All fours.” He growled. Back to playing your big scary killer.

You sniffled, doing as he said as quickly as you could even though your body felt weak and jittery.

“Fuck.” He groaned spreading your ass cheeks apart, his thumbs keeping your pussy lips spread so that he could see his hard work; the mess he’d made of you.

He dove into your slick, reddened folds. His tongue laving and sucking your clit. He moaned and whined like he was the one getting pleasured. He shoved his tongue into your hot, raw hole and licked his cum out of you, mumbling dirty words with each breath.

"You taste so fucking good." He groaned, his voice muffled. "So wet and fuckin’ messy. I love it."

You whimpered, his tongue darting in and out of your still-throbbing cunt, tasting the evidence of your rough sex.

"You’re gonna be mine forever." He growled, his words slurred with lust. "No one else is ever gonna touch you again."

His fingers found your entrance, teasingly playing with it before sliding inside, stretching you open again. Your body trembled, pussy clenching around him in protest of his reentry. He leaned forward licking the trickles of blood from your shoulder and gathering it in his mouth. He sat back on his heels and then spit the mixture of his cum, his spit and your blood into your pussy, gently shoving it inside with his fingers.

The act was filthy. Disgusting. But so fucking hot, so sexy, so much so that your pussy contracted around his fingers again. Alittle bit of squirt dribbling out as your body shook. Anakin's eyes darkened as he felt you clench around his fingers once again.

"Fuck." He grumbled, hid grip on your hips tightening. "You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?"

You sobbed, body trembling with the impending orgasm or maybe just from the humiliation. Who knows? At this point you couldn’t tell left from right.

"You just want to get used and ruined, don’t you?" He growled, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. "So fucking ready for it. So desperate for a cock like mine to take care of you."

His words sent you over the edge, body shaking as you came yet again. Your pussy fluttering around his fingers, dribbles of liquid leaking down his hand.

“N-no more.” You whimper, begging for a break.

“Oh poor thing.” He laughed. “it just feels so good that it hurts huh?”

“Y-yes.” You cried, sniffling. Your arms weak and wobbly.

“You’ll get used to it.” He said pulling out his fingers and roughly smacking your pussy with his hand.

You screamed, a choked whimpering sob. You were beyond sensitive, you could feel how swollen you were. But even through the pain, a jolt of pure pleasure shot through your core.

“Get up.” He growled, tucking himself back into his jeans, pulling you to your feet by the hair.

He shoved you against a tree and barked out the instruction for you to stay there. He picked up the knife and bandanna, kicking the ruined rope aside and shoving the ripped panties in his pocket. He grabbed his belt and cracked it against your ass hard one last time before putting his belt back on.

“You didn’t say thank you.” He reminded you.

“Say thank you. Ungrateful bitch.”

M’sorry!” You whimpered. “th-thank you. Thank you.”

“That’s better.” He grunted, yanking your jeans back up and leaving them unbuttoned. The fabric wet and sticky from all the abuse.

“Turn around. Can’t leave those gorgeous tits without any attention right?” He chuckled darkly.

He grabbed your chin examining your face when you slowly turned around. His other hand pulling up your shirt.

“Still pretty. Even after all that.” He said softly a small glimpse at your Anakin, not this brutal character he played. But it was gone quicker than you could blink.

"Beautiful." Anakin murmured, his eyes lingering on your tits before he leaned in to lick and kiss each one. "You’re gonna be so pretty covered in bruises, huh?"

Your breath hitched, nipples pebbling as he sucked and licked at them. His hands cupping and squeezing your breasts roughly, leaving red marks on the soft skin.

He bit down and pulled your nipples with his teeth causing you to yelp in pain. Eliciting a dark laugh from him.

“C’mon,” He grumbled. “let’s get going. I’ve got plans for my new whore.”

He grabbed the back of your neck and shoved you forward, making you stumble and almost trip. You stayed silent other than your sniffling and wiping your nose and eyes as you walked on jelly legs.

"Don't think you're done." Anakin growled, his grip on your neck tightening as you walked. "I’ll never be done with you."

His free hand grabbed your ass, squeezing it roughly before letting go. His eyes never leaving the path ahead.

"You owe me. You know that? A lifetime of obedience and gratitude." He laughed, pushing your forward again. “I could’ve killed you and I didn’t. That’s called a life debt baby.”

You nodded, seeing the truck in the field and breathing a sigh of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk much further.

“Almost there.” He said plainly.

Once you reached the truck he opened the door and helped you inside gently. Giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

He walked around to his side and shoved the items along with his hockey mask down inside the bag. Tossing it to the floor board as he climbed in beside you, pulling you against his chest in a comforting, soothing hug. You sighed, leaning into him. His warmth and closeness comforting you.

"Good girl." Anakin whispered into your hair, his voice softening. He kissed the top of your head gently. "You did so good. I love you doll. I love you so so much."

"Hang tight, baby. We’ll get you cleaned up and back home soon enough." He murmured, his hand resting on your thigh reassuringly.

You gripped his shirt, there was something thrilling about his possessiveness, his control over you. “I love you too Ani.” You whispered, voice shaky.

Once the short drive was over he helped you out of his truck, turning around and leaning forward to give you a piggy back ride to the house.

You sighed thankfully and climbed up. Hugging around his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. Nuzzling into his neck as he carried you into your home. Locking the front door behind him. He softly sat you on the couch, giving you a gentle forehead kiss.

Wordlessly he went to the kitchen and got himself and you a glass of water. Placing the cup in your shaking hands, making sure you drank some before he chugged down his.*

“You okay babydoll?” He asked, pulling you into his lap. “that was pretty intense.”

“I-I’m okay.” You nodded. “y-yeah it w-was intense.”

You gave him a soft smile. “It was fun though… I’m just gonna be really, really sore.”

"You’re so fucking precious.” He murmured, nuzzling your neck. "All worn out and sore, but still smiling at me."

"We'll take it slow next time, okay?" He whispered in your ear, kissing your temple softly. "You tell me when you’re ready for sex again baby. I’m not gonna ask until you come to me.”

You nodded, sighing contentedly. Your head resting against his chest as he held you close, breathing slowly returning to normal.

“Are you glad I read your diary now?”

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @bunnylovesani @offthethir/wall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee

@sweetcheesecakesblog@rga11 @luvskywxlker

@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled

@graveyard-stray

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag list

[cheriecelestial]

Angel Pt.1

pairing*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Red Hood!Jason Todd X fem!reader

disclaimer*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ fluff. slight suggestive content (?). swearing. canon typical violence. kinda long. not proofread !

a/n*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ based on that one prompt “Wow ! You’ve grown so much since I last babysat you” “I want to rail you so bad”. Reader is like 26 and Jason is 19-20. Set in the WFA verse + joyfire are a team. Kinda non canon complacent. Smut in part II

Part II

Under the nocturnal skyline of Gotham perched on a towering building was the vigilante anti- hero Red Hood watching, observing the city like a hunter stalking its next prey. His jacket whipped against the wind of the boisterous and animated city. He closed his eyes and listened to song of wailing sirens and the distant cries of people, ready to respond to the city's calls for help.

Gotham was a city that, much like its vigilantes, thrived in the night. The city was hued in the rapturous and vivacious of the nightlife. Neon signs flickered casting flashes of colours across the pavements of the night clubs. People scattered across the pavements like ants, some making their way home from a tiring day of work, others more aimless and leisure - their destinations less defined and indulgent. He pulled out his grapple hook gun and shot to a building a few blocks away from where his bike was parked.

In the shadowed alleyways, Red Hood felt a sinister presence stir. He kept walking without letting them know that he noticed their presence. By the footsteps, he could tell six no.. seven. Four of medium build and three a bit more burly. Judging by their lack of ability to mask their footsteps, he could guess they're amateurs. Well in all honesty, almost everyone was an amateur compared to him. Slowing his pace, Red Hood's hands instinctively moved to his holster, anticipating a potential confrontation. Nothing beat the thrill of beating up bad guys. However, amid the approaching group, he discerned another set of footsteps — urgent, lighter, tinged with fear, and most importantly heading directly toward him.

He felt someone clutch the lapel of his jacket desperately. "You're a vigilante, aren't you ? Please help me sir. I think there are bad people following me." Red Hood looked to his side and saw a woman much shorter than him and shaking like a leaf in wind. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. It had been almost a decade since he had gazed into those warm large eyes—a fragment of his childhood that he had long relegated to oblivion. Jason Todd had what most would call a troubled childhood. Abandoned by his birth mother and the only other one he had dead from drug abuse and an even worse father who died the hands of Two Face. Tossed through the foster system, he eventually found himself on the unforgiving streets of Gotham. Amid the darkest moments of his youth, one saving grace remained —his angel,Y/N L/N. One he completely forgot about when he assumed the mantle of Robin.

"Help me please." She implored, her voice trembling and on the verge of breaking - the same one who would calm his raging storm on bad nights and tell him that he was going to be okay, and in the moment he swore he was. Her gaze shifted between the men and the vigilante, moving closer to him without realizing to shield herself from the villains in the shadows. Almost as if in a trance, he raised his gloved hand to caress her cheek as if to check if she was real or not. "Just follow my lead." He spoke in a low tone and the woman nodded frantically. His hand encircled her wrist and he started running, dragging her behind him the second he heard the thugs charge. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't think twice before starting a fight and having it his way. But he couldn't bear endangering her in the slightest so getting her to safety was the only viable option.

Her breath came in rapid gasps, and beads of sweat glistened on side of her forehead as they navigated the maze of alleyways in their path. The flickering glow of distant streetlights created fleeting glimpses of their pursuers. Her heart pounded in her chest like the strumming of a frantic drum as adrenaline pumped poisoned her veins. Jason noticed that she couldn't run fast enough to outrun the thugs with her stamina. "Sorry about what I'm about to do”,he warned in a hushed whisper and without hesitation, he lifted her over his shoulder and began running. Y/N gasped, clutching onto the vigilante for dear life. Wind ruffled her hair as she watched the vigilante leave behind their pursuers effortlessly. "You know if this vigilante thing doesn't work out you could try out for the Olympics." She muttered not realizing she said it out loud. Red Hood let out a gruff laugh, "I could but I like beating up bad guys and saving people such as yourself just a tad bit more angel." Y/N blushed at the nickname but waved it off as commonplace banter.

He set her down next to his bike. And took off his chocolate coloured jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "How could I ever thank you?" The h/c haired woman smiled at him with a smile so infectious that the corners of Jason's lips curled up without his realising under his mask. "Don't thank me just yet princess. They aren't near done." Y/N blinked in confusion and followed Red Hood's line of sight where she saw three black cars racing towards them. Her features morphed from relief to horror and alarm in the blink of an eye.The vigilante revved his bike and looked at her,"What are you waiting for?" The woman looks at the approaching cars and back at the vigilante, contemplating her options and got on the back of his bike. His hand envelops her and plants it onto his waist as if silently asking her to hold onto him. Y/N flinches at the contact as it she touched something really hot and retracted her hand.

The masked vigilante plucks a helmet out of the saddlebag and strapped it on her head."You might want to hold on angel." Y/N hums in acknowledgment and holds the grab handle behind the seat. Jason rolled his eyes at her refusal to hold onto him and revves the engine making her lurch forward and crash into his back. Realising that doing this any other way apart from his was futile, Y/N timidly encircled her arms around his waist.

The vibrations of the engine shook her whole being as he raced down the streets. The streets, trees, people blurred in her peripheral vision and she started feeling light-headed. Gathering all the morsels of courage she could find, she looked behind her to see the thugs chasing them. They hadn't lost the three cars and things just got worse when she saw a man peek his head out of the window with a fun in his hand. I'm so dying today. She clasped her hands tighter around him and pressed her face against his rigid muscular back in fear.

Sensing her unease, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her infront of him. Y/N let out a yelp from the suddenness of the contact.

"What are you -"

"You don’t want your back facing them when they start shooting soon." Y/N looked over his shoulder to the thugs and then sunk back into and then sank back against his chest.

"You know if it makes you feel better just know this is an average Tuesday for me." Y/N blinked at him incredulously and in a small voice muttered,"It's Thursday today." A nonchalant shrug was all the answer he decided to give her. How the hell does he manage to remain calm through it? I'm on the verge of a panic attack and he's swerving as if this is a joyride in his kingdom. And in that moment if someone said that he was the king of Gotham, Y/N would find it hard to refute it.

The bike picked up speed causing the h/c haired woman to crash against his chest harshly. It was as if the pressure of the wind glued her against him. To calm herself, she decided to try concentrating elsewhere. Absentmindedly trailing the ridges of his armour and the red bat symbol on his chest. She heard whispers and rumours about Red Hood, the prince of crime, the scourge of the underworld—an outlaw employing more lethal methods against crime than Batman. Despite initial conflicts with Batman, he was acknowledged as a Bat vigilante some time ago. This man was dangerous and unpredictable then why did he feel so familiar to her ?

“I know I have god-tier pectoral muscles but I’d appreciate if you stopped distracting me like that.” Red Hood quipped, sounding almost smug at her fascination. Heat rushed into her cheeks and she quickly withdrew her hand, realising how inappropriate that must’ve felt and hastily clarified,“ I’m so sorry, I’m not a pervert I swear.” Y/N felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

“Hold on.” Red Hood skidded the bike across the road with a loud screech, making Y/N wince at the sound of the metal scratching against the gravel. He loaded his gun with one hand still wrapped around Y/N protectively and aimed at the tires of the approaching car. “I’d suggest for you to not look at it.”Y/N averted her gaze and moments later, she heard a series of crashes and explosions.

“Jesus Christ I thought I was going to die !” She exhaled in relief. Red Hood turned his face towards her slowly and looked at her as if deadpanning through the mask,“ I’m here you know. What makes you think I’d let you die ?” He retorted taking full offence of her words. “I- I didn’t mean it like that -” she stammered, partly scared to offend the vigilante.

"Whatever I'll drop you off." Jason rolled his eyes and patted the seat behind him. Y/N hesitated, remembering her mother's warning about getting on bikes with strange men, but given her current situation, she realized it was too late to dwell on that now. With no one pursuing them, the ride felt much more pleasant. The speed and the wind against her hair seemed to turn her blood to gasoline as the air dissipated from her lungs. Adrenaline fueled activities weren't for her, at least that's what her sense of self preservation told her. Y/ N pressed her cheek against Red Hood's back. Vigilantes had a symbiotic relationship with the city and as was a common saying in Gotham "The less bats you run into the happier your life is." She knew that this encounter might be a fleeting one, so she decided to relish the moment for now.

Feelings and thoughts were long forgotten, where everything faded into the background and only her physical self exists and the dancing lights at the hazy edges of her vision offered an intoxicating taste of freedom that was indescribable — stripped of obligations, responsibilities and consequences.

Y/N almost doesn’t notice when he stopped the bike. “Do you plan on holding onto me for long ? Not that I mind but we’re here.” Red Hood hopped off the bike and Y/N took off her helmet and hung it onto the handlebar. She scanned her surroundings, they were in front of a five star hotel with sports cars parked on either side of of the road. “Why are we here ?” The woman asked following behind the masked vigilante. “Well for one I don’t know your address so I can’t drop you home and second it’s too late so you should stay the night at a hotel and go home in the morning. It’s safer that way.” Y/N stared at him in disbelief,“ But I don’t have the kind of money to rent a room in a place like this.” Red Hood retrieved a key card from his pocket and placed it on her palm,“Who said anything about paying ?” The h/c haired took it reluctantly and slowly walked to the entrance of the hotel, looking back at him again and again. It wasn’t until she was inside the hotel that she saw him drive off. Y/N walked to the concierge desk and showed her the card. The receptionist eyed her with suspicion considering how she looked so out of place compared to her opulent setting. “Please fill this form. It’s for security purposes.”

The form asked things like her address and her phone number. As reluctant as she was, the receptionist looked like she wasn’t letting her through unless she filled it. Wary of the dangers of misuse of information, Y/N tried to keep her responses as brief as possible. Paranoia was the best friend of a Gothamite considering everything that went down in this hellhole. It was good to always assume the worse and subsequently prepare for it.

The receptionist offered her a tight smile and walked her to the suite. Calling it a suite was an understatement since it was the penthouse on top of the hotel. Just how rich is this guy ? Y/N assumed that the house was a property he didn’t live in because the place lacked personal touch. Either that or he was a real minimalist which was unlikely considering bat vigilantes’ love for theatrics. Y/N wondered if all the bat vigilantes were like a huge family with Batman as papa bat. Where would Red Hood fall in the hierarchy ? If she were to guess, she’d say he was probably the black sheep of the family. Y/N looked around the house, it was one straight out of architectural digests with its high ceilings and cool grey and white interior. She looked at the time and decided it was best if she hit the shower and go to bed and finally put an end to this crazy day.

Jason Todd checked into the hotel the next morning and was greeted by the overly friendly receptionist, personally he didn’t mind fangirls but anyone with even half a braincell knew the risks of being a vigilante groupie. She passed him the form that Y/N filled. He couldn’t help but smile at the form. Filling her work address and a phone number both which were most likely false give the conspicuous number of 7’s in the number ? She’s smarter than most civilians, he’d give her that. The penthouse looked almost unhampered with. His jacket was neatly folded on the dining table with a note reading “Thank you so much for saving me. Regards.” The tone of the note was clear ‘I appreciate you saving me but I hope we never meet again.’ Jason pocketed the note and left the penthouse. Fates had been kind enough to reunite him with his angel and he’d be damned if he let her get away .

“Yoohoo Y/N to earth. Anybody home ?”Y/N’s coworker snapped her fingers in front her face, snapping her out of her reverie. “Sorry about that Steph.” Y/N apologised with an awkward laugh. Stephanie Brown, albeit several years younger, was one of Y/N’s closest friends. She was a bubbly and cheerful soul anyone could tell that by the first impression she projected.

Since the night almost a week ago with the mysterious vigilante, Y/N often found her thoughts plagued by him. Curiosity of where he would be or what he would be doing right now. Her eyes often looked for any news of him while watching the news. I really have to stop thinking about him, even though they lived in the same city, the odds of them running into each other were minute.

The door opened and the bell on top of it clanged, announcing the arrival of a customer. “Mornin’ ladies.” The customer greeted. Y/N turned her attention at the newcomer at the counter. “Good morning detective !” she greeted the customer with a bright smile.

Dick Grayson served as a police officer under the GCPD and was one of the cafe’s frequents. From experiences of her own childhood, Y/N consider the police nothing but corrupt individuals on payroll of powerful people who bullied those weaker than them. But detective Grayson was one of the good and honest ones. He played a massive role in restoring Y/N’s faith that there were those in the police force who could be relied upon and ones that fought for a better Gotham.

"I'll go with the..." he glanced at the menu, a ritual he often performed. "the regular?" Y/N finished his sentence. He responded with a smile, revealing his dimples. "I never understand why you bother with the menu when you always order the same thing," she remarked. He shrugged nonchalantly, as if saying 'who knows.' A smile crept onto her face as she made his order.

“So how’s everything with the family ?” Y/N asked, making small talk. Beyond his consistent ordering and punctual 9:00 AM café visits, he frequently shared his sibling issues. "Oh, where do I begin? My brother is acting up, yet again. He pulled some crap about a week ago. He broke one of Dad’s rules, even though he said he did it to help someone but Dad was just not having it."

“ Which one ? The cool rebellious one or the little gremlin one ?” Y/N laughed sympathetically. She didn’t feel the need to probe and ask much but she always lent an ear to a friend so naturally she knew them by characteristics and not by name. From what she knew, Dick Grayson had three younger brothers - the broody rebellious one, the caffein addict smartass and the 4 foot gremlin edgelord from hell.

“The rebellious one.” he sighed wearily. Y/N placed his order on the counter, including a small pack of cookies. “On the house. You could use some sugar anyway. They’re free testers before we put them on the menu.” Dick accepted the coffee and cookie packet, flashing a bright smile. “Thank you so much. You’re an angel.” An odd feeling resonated within her when Dick called her that. That’s what Red Hood called her. Somehow the way the word rolled off his tongue seemed so different compared to when anyone else said it.

“Hey Dick do you mind if I ask you something ?” Dick nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “What do you know about the Red Hood ?”

Dick choked on his drink and burst into a fit of coughs. It took him a while to compose himself. “He’s alright. I mean he does help the GCPD I guess but he’s too unpredictable and we don’t exactly approve of his methods. He doesn’t hurt innocents but he’s bad news. Why do you ask ?”

“No reason.”Y/N brushed off the inquiry, and although Dick seemed skeptical, he left after leaving a tip. There. Is your curiosity satiated ? Even Dick said he’s bad news now can we stop thinking about him ? Her inner conscience reprimanded her.

Y/N's weary steps echoed in the quiet street as she walked home from work at night. The flickering light from the street lights streetlights casted long almost sentient looking shadows. Her thoughts — a mix of the day's challenges, the longing for the comfort of home blurred into oblivion when a strange chill crept up her spine with a sense of foreboding. Cautious of her surroundings, Y/N constantly kept watch around herself. Just a few yards before her apartment building, she heard their neighbourhood strays agitatedly hiss to something near the dumpster. Not wanting to get involved in whatever trouble Gotham had brought to her feet, she fastened her pace. Suddenly, a flash of vibrant red —the same shade she had been secretly craving to see in the past week, caught her eye.

“Red Hood ?” Y/N stepped into the shadows cautiously as if ready to flee at the first signs of trouble.

“Angel ?” He asked gruffly. Y/N walked closer and found him against the wall, clutching his side. His wound wasn’t a death sentence but needed to be tended to quickly. Her eyes widened in horror when she noticed the crimson coating his fingers,“You’re hurt !”

“ ‘Tis but a scratch m’lady.” He let out a pained laugh seeming to ease her nerves. “We need to get that treated.” Y/N urged. She knew that vigilantes couldn’t just walked into hospitals to get patched up because of the whole secret identity thing. And she also knew that taking it upon herself to treat him would go against every plan of self preservation she had. But she owed him his life. I’ll pay off my debt and we’ll never meet again. Y/N mentally decided and looked at him with newfound determination in her eyes. “My apartment is just upstairs. I have a first aid kit. Come with me.”

Red Hood gazed at her, momentarily lost in thought, then lifted his other hand to gently stroke her cheek. Y/N flinched at his touch, making him withdraw his hand. “Sorry I thought I was hallucinating you because from the blood loss. ” He admitted meekly. Y/N sighed and placed his hand over her shoulder. “Can you stand?” The masked vigilante nodded, rising slowly with a grunt.

Swallowing her rising concern, she brought him to her house and beckoned him towards her couch. Red Hood’s every step betrayed a hint of discomfort, his grimace almost visible even behind that signature mask. The second he dropped on her couch, she disappeared. He caught flashes of her running around the house like a busy bee at work. In seconds, she produced a first-aid kit and knelt next to him. “Lift your shirt.” She maintained her clinical tone, but the concern was evident with her eyes trained on the wound.

“Angel you know if you wanted to –” Jason started with a cheeky tone but was cut off by a stern glare, “Ahem yes ma’am”

Y/N breath hitched every so slightly when she saw the injury. It didn’t look like a bullet wound, the malformed spindle shape resembled a stab wound. “I’m sorry I don’t have any anaesthetic.” She didn’t look up from the wound as her cotton swab glided over the grevions injury. Shifting her elbow to his other hand on his thigh, Red Hood tilted his head seemingly questioning her,“ You can hold my arm and squeeze it if it hurts. I’ve heard that helps.”

“Appreciate the gesture angel but I’m pretty sure I’d snap your arm in half if I did.” His tone was both dismissive and endearing. Y/N didn’t insist, given his strength what he said was probably true. Vigilantes were exceptionally trained, surpassing conventional human limits. Unlike the caped metahuman from Metropolis, the bat vigilantes were more cryptid in nature. None would be where they came from and where they went. Invulnerable and insurmountable. Despite him being in a position that would render others vulnerable, he appeared unfazed, akin to a wounded yet formidable beast. There was a natural aura of dominance and power about him. They don’t call him the Prince of Gotham for no reason that’s for sure.

“You’re good at this. Like one of the best I’ve seen.” He spoke up, seemingly trying to come off as capable of being civil. “Well three years of med school. Some stitching is the least I can do.” She explained. Red Hood visible froze for a good second and inquired,“ You’re a doctor ?”

Y/N scoffed,“ Look around. Do I look like one ?” Red Hood looked around her apartment. Although well maintained, an ode to her efforts, the apartment was old and almost pitiful . Most of the furniture looked second hand and cheap. The curtain rods were rusted and the paint was peeling off from the walls with damp spots on the ceilings.

“You dropped out ?” He guessed. “Yeah. Couldn’t afford it.” She chuckled bitterly.

“Didn’t they offer scholarships or something ?” Jason was aware of Wayne Enterprises’ scholarship programs for talented students. When Bruce took him in, he assured Jason that if Y/N met the criteria, she would be enrolled in the program. Y/N’s intellect had always impressed Jason since childhood, he remembered that she would often sneak into libraries and memorise books worth of stories to recite them to Jason to help him sleep. There was just no way she wouldn’t be accepted into the program.

“They did but that didn’t pay bills. I needed to find a job to pay for my mom’s hospital bills.” She kept her response short, clearly not wanting to delve deep into the topic. “Work for me.” The statement was like a whiplash for Y/N. Work for him ? There weren’t many things Y/N had to take a double take for but this proposition was entirely unexpected. It caught her off guard, she stared at him incredulously with widened eyes. Red Hood was know for operating in the gray areas between legality and criminality and wasn’t exactly your quintessential example of a righteous lawful hero.

“Not in the way you’re imagining.” He hooked his free hand under her chin, gently closing her agape mouth. His tone was soft and reassuring,“ I’ve been meaning to find a backstreet surgeon to stitch me up. Comes in handy for a guy like me. I’m sure you understand angel.”

“B-but why me ?”Y/N stuttered, avoiding eye contact as her nerves threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel a chill of nervousness and panic creep up her spine. What if he got angry if she refused ? Jason noticed the change in the air around her and the stiffening of her muscles in panic that she was clearly trying to hide from him.

“Because you’re convenient. Your place is easy to get in and out of undetected, you’re talented and most of all —“ He gently lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Y/N let out a shuddered breath as Red Hood stroked her cheek with the back of his gloved hand. “— you fear me enough to not go around squeaking to the wrong people about me. No ?” Jason couldn’t help but relish in the reaction he elicited to the feeling of the leather gliding against her cheek in a silken featherlight touch. How adorable.

Y/N swallowed nervously before nodding slowly. A beat of silence passed and she let out a small sigh, recollecting herself and weighing her options. “How much are we talking ?” She asked him in a low voice. Jason could hardly contain his excitement, grinning wildly under his mask. A sense of pride washed over him as her first question after his offer focused on the financial aspect.

“Let’s see how about 2 grand a month ? Too less ? 3 grand ? 3.5 ? That enough ?”he suggested eagerly. Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief, almost bulging from their sockets. Without waiting for her response, he added, “Plus, there’ll be extra incentives when I’m feeling generous.”

“All that for some stitching ? There has to be a catch.” She reasoned. It seemed implausible that he would offer such a substantial sum for such a minor task. Jason chuckled," You’re smart. I like that in a woman. And to answer your question, it’s not just stitching. It’s about your discretion and loyalty. It’s a complete package. Plus that sort of money is pretty much pocket change to me.”

“And if I were to betray your trust ?” Y/N asked in a hypothetical sense, of course she had more sense than to betray someone of his stature and power. “Do you really want me to answer that ?” He countered sounding equal parts smug and menacing. Y/N shook her head in negation and continued stitching his wound. The process of stitching became a meditative rhythm - the needle piercing the skin, the pull of the thread, the knotting, and the slight twitch of Red Hood’s muscles with each stitch.

“I’ll take it.” She muttered. Jason was grateful for his mask and injury otherwise, he might have been unable to hide his urge to jump up and punch air in celebration. Agreeing to his proposition marked just the beginning of his grand plan for making Y/N his and for now, everything unfolded according to his wishes and he couldn’t be happier.

Y/N wrapped gauze around the wound and secured it with a metal clip. “Normally I’d suggest a few days’ rest but I have a feeling there’s no point in saying.” Red Hood commented with a shrug as he inspected the injury. Y/N rose and fetched him a glass of water from the kitchen, setting it on the table. “If you’re trying to get me to remove my helmet, it won’t work.” he remarked. As much as his distrust stung, Y/N rationalised that it was typical for someone like him.

She retrieved a scarf from the coat rack, folded it and tied it around her eyes before taking a seat on the edge of the couch, keeping a respectable distance from the masked vigilante. "What's with the blindfold angel ?" Red Hood asked, his tone tinged with amusement.

"Isn't trust earned through actions?" she responded. Y/N heard the thud of his helmet being placed on the table. Jason seemed genuinely impressed by her gesture. His gaze lingered on her figure as she remained motionless, noting how much she had changed since his childhood memory. Yet her kindness to those in need while still keeping herself guarded from those who would abuse it still remained unchanged. Jason’s hand twitched with the impulse to touch her. To hold her. He wondered how her face would look in his palms with her bare body melded against his own.

“ ‘Suppose it is.” Jason chuckled as he downed the glass of water and put his helmet back on. “I’m finished. You can remove that blindfold now, although it does look adorable on you.” He noticed her chest rise with a sudden hitch, and her cheeks flush red. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed, knowing the other implications blindfolds carried. As she removed the scarf and looked around, Red Hood had vanished without a trace. Her window was open and it was as if disappeared into the wind just as he came. She got why the bat vigilantes were often likened to cryptid beings and phantoms. Y/N was left to ponder over the events that had unfolded. Under the glass of water she offered him three hundred dollar bills were tucked. “I suppose I’m now working for the Prince of Gotham now.” Y/N mused to herself, realizing her attempt to avoid getting involved had failed miserably.

Jason's parents engaged in another round of screaming matches, this time he decided he’d had enough and thought of running away. Despite previous fleeting thoughts of escape, each time night fell — he faced the harsh reality of lacking sustenance and shelter. Convinced that the streets offered a marginally preferable refuge to the shithole he was force to call home, he wandered aimlessly till he found himself at the dumpster of a bakery. He knew shops like those threw away left overs even though they could’ve given them out — Jason saw it as a glaring manifestation of selfishness of adults.

He hid behind the dumpster and waited for someone to come and throw away the leftovers. After waiting for almost half an hour, the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Glancing cautiously from his hiding spot, Jason spotted a young waitress walking out. She was likely just a few years older than himself, a middle school or a high school student maybe, he thought to himself. As she approached to dispose of the food, she paused midway. No way did she see him ? Jason shrank back against a cardboard box, hoping she wouldn’t notice him.

“Hey kid you can come out. I already saw you.” the waitress said softly. Jason slowly crawled out and approached her. He eyed the tray of leftovers in her hand, wondering if he could snatch them and escape quickly enough ? The waitress seemed to notice this and raised the tray above his reach. “Against bakery policies kid. Where are your parents ?” She asked. Of course she wouldn't be generous enough to offer him any. In his mind, all adults were rotten to the core and selfish —why would she be any different ?

Jason scoffed,“ Does it matter ?” His statement was met with a sigh from the waitress, her expression conveying annoyance, a scene all too familiar to him. Bracing himself he said,“ Just do it already. I’ve had it from guys thrice your size.” Jason was well acquainted with the drill with diner employees — catch a few shoves and slaps, pretend to go away and wait for them to leave and then come back pick up the food.

He shut his eyes and waited for her to slap and swear at him to drive him away like everyone else. Yet moments passed but the expected blow never came. Instead, Jason felt a gentle pat on his head and looked up to see her smiling empathetically, though her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. Wondering why she seemed so melancholic, he accepted the loaf of bread she offered and wolfed it down. “Won’t you get in trouble for this ?” He asked. With a forced laugh she admitted,“ I probably will but I can’t let a kid hungry now can I ?”

“I won’t tell anyone.” The young boy promised earnestly and she returned his smile. His gaze fell upon her nametag—Y/N L/N. Maybe not all adults are bad.

It had been barely four days since she last saw him that she heard from him again. In the dead of night, her doorbell rang. She approached the door cautiously and grabbed a baseball bat from the umbrella rack as a just in case. She didn’t hear any movement on the other side of the door so she cautiously opened the door, peering out. To her surprise, she found only a small, shoddily wrapped parcel resting on the floor with her name written in red.

There was no one except a small poorly wrapped parcel on floor with her name on it. Retrieving it, she carried it inside. Within the parcel lay a modest yet exquisite golden necklace accompanied by a handwritten instruction manual. Observing it she realised it was one of those necklaces that acted as an SOS signal. The parcel also contained a big folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, she discovered a map of Gotham City with specific locations ominously marked in red and the stark warning “DO NOT GO” emblazoned in bold letters. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtful gesture, maybe this is not all that bad.

Over the following days, Red Hood would appear unannounced giving Y/N enough jumpscares for lifetime, when she would walk into her living room and find him bleeding out on her couch. He wasn’t much of a talker which wasn’t a surprise.

His injuries presented a variety of shapes and sizes each time he visited, but recently, his injuries bore uncanny resemblance the markings of knife wounds. Some were superficial, while others cut deeper. However, considering the depth, placement, and angles, Y/N questioned whether they were the result of his typical fights. "Are you testing my loyalty? Seeing if I'll betray you?" Y/N clenched her teeth with silvers of anger and frustration glinting in her eyes. Red Hood appeared slightly taken aback but remained silent in response to her outburst. "Do you really think I wouldn't notice ? Either that certain type of knife has become Gotham’s thugs number one choice or you're doing this to yourself. Why ?" She pressed further.

“ I knew I shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”Jason wasn’t accustomed to others fussing over his safety. Typically he received, at most a pat on the back from those who worked alongside him, knowing he had endured much worse and could handle it. Her anger and frustration hinted at concern, echoing the tone when he would go and pick fights with boys twice his size.

“What’s that supposed to mean ?”

Red Hood let out a sigh and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, I enjoy spending time with you and I wouldn’t bother coming unless I needed medical attention. So you know —"

“— So you cut yourself ? To hang out with me ? What’s wrong with you ? What if you actually got into a fight with those injuries ? What if you got hurt for real ? You could really get hurt. How could you do that to yourself ? ”

Jason lowered his head in remorse, realizing he hadn't fully considered his actions. Despite understanding her perspective and acknowledging the wrong in purposefully hurting himself for her attention, he couldn't deny a secret sense of satisfaction. "I’m so sorry," he muttered his apology, genuinely meaning every word. Y/N released an exasperated sigh and took a moment to compose herself before speaking again. "Next time, just ask. It's not that complicated."

Jason's head lifted with hopeful curiosity, resembling a puppy eager for a treat. " I can do that ?" he asked tentatively, unsure if her words were genuine. Jason blinks, and then smiles. Her words cause something to stir within him, a sensation of warmth and affection he hasn't felt in a while. Y/N nodded and got up to dispose of the bloody cotton swabs in the kitchen. Jason’s eyes followed her eyes, watching closely and to see if she was still mad at him. Y/N was a pretty forgiving person but in all honesty, he did mess up pretty bad. She returned and settled back down with a sigh, causing a slight nervous flutter in Jason. “So what do vigilantes when they’re not fighting bad guys ?” Y/N initiated as an icebreaker, much to Jason’s relief. It’s not like he could say ‘hey I’m in love with you please hang out with me with marriage in mind’. Wait marriage ? Where did that come from ? Images of Y/N in a white gown walking down an isle flashed through his mind. Y/N Todd. That had a nice ring to it, Jason mused silently. He had heard that Bali was a popular honeymoon destination but Y/N once told him that she always wanted to see the stargazing so the Atacama desert isn’t a bad destination either.

“Um earth to Red. You still here ?” Y/N waved her hand in front of Jason who seemed to have spaced out.

“Red ?”Jason asked sounding positively amused by the unexpected nickname. She shrugged and replied,“ Calling you Red Hood seemed too long, so Red it is. Not very creative, I know.”

Jason chuckled,“ I’ll allow it. And to answer your question, vigilantes don't have much time for leisure. When we're not fighting, we’re either training or passed the fuck out from exhaustion.” Y/N felt tired just hearing that, understanding the reasoning behind it, but the question remained: he wasn’t wasting time by being here, was he ?

“Seems like there’s no room for hobbies?” Y/N quipped, eliciting another soft laugh from Jason as he visibly relaxed. "I suppose so but pros can squeeze in time for special things here and there." he replied, his voice still quiet but now tinged with a smile. His body language seemed brighter and happier, and for the first time since she saw him actually looking relaxed.

Y/N reached for the TV remote, flipping through channels before tossing it onto his lap and standing up. “I’m going to fix myself something. Do you want anything?” she asked politely. Jason shook his head, declining, “I’m good.” Y/N walked to the kitchen and started making herself popcorn. What sort of movies and tv shows would vigilantes enjoy ? She guessed they might lean towards crime-related or action-packed content, but then remembered her friends’ complaints about the inaccuracy of such portrayals.

“Seriously Janet ?! There’s no way you’re picking that dress. Just cuz it would look good on Jessica doesn’t mean it would suit you ! I can hear the wails of the colour theory all the way from here.” Jason shook his head, sounding genuinely disappointed. He probably didn’t even notice Y/N shuffling closer to the television, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. So I guess that answers my question.

“That’s an interesting choice.”

Jason rolled his eyes and diverted his attention back to the television again. “What ? Can’t a man enjoy some good entertainment ?” He retorted. Y/N laughed lightly dismissing his remark,” No no it’s not that. Personally I’m more of a k-drama and anime girlie but I hold nothing against reality tv.” He nodded in acknowledgment of her preferences and resumed watching. Sitting beside him, Y/N observed as he commented on almost everything the people on TV said, finding herself amused by how much more entertaining his live commentary was compared to the actual show.

Minutes rolled by and after almost a couple hours, Y/N got up to go use the washroom and when she returned he had vanished once again, as was his habit. A small note lay where he had sat on her couch earlier. She picked it up and read, “Had a great time. Thanks for today - R” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, Damn these bats and their theatrics.

Jason would show up every three four days, most of the time unharmed thankfully. The two would do a variety of things like watching movies and tv shows together, playing board games and video games and just talking in general. At first it was just discussing their common interests but eventually he would sporadically divulged minor, unimportant details about himself. Some things she was able to piece together were that one, the bat vigilantes was a dysfunctional family with Batman as their patriarch. Second, the Red Hood worked alongside Starfire and Arsenal as his teammates. And third, that he had to be the biggest classic literature nerd she had come across.

“What do you mean your best friend tried to set you on fire while you were taking a shower ?! Didn’t you like lock the door or something ?”

“Locked doors don’t really do much to people like us angel.”

“So who’s your favourite bat sibling ?” Jason fell silent at her question, contemplating the answer. “Well that’s a tough question. I have my set of challenges and grudges with all of them. We’ve tried to kill each other atleast once. More so with my brothers than the girls. I’d say I get along pretty well with spoiler and batgirl. And if you ask about my brothers, I’d say Nightwing. He’s the funny nice one, Red Robin’s the smart, loyal one and Robin is the little obnoxious one.”

Y/N chuckled,“ Guess the article checks out.”

“What article ?” Jason asked curiously. Most of his intel came from law enforcement agencies databases, informants, surveillance technology, his fellow vigilantes and his own investigative work so he didn’t really feel the need to keep up with the cheesy articles in Gazette.

“The cinnamon roll tier list !” Y/N’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

“The what now ?”

“So there’s this popular meme going online,”she started to explain,“ so there are four categories - first, looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll. In that category are the signal, the spoiler and nightwing. Second, looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you. That one is for Red Robin and the Robin. Third, looks like could kill you but is a cinnamon roll, that one is for Batgirl and the last is -” she paused because she knew the next tier on the list might potentially sting him.

“Looks like could kill you and would kill you ? Let me guess that’s one for me ?” Jason chuckled humorlessly, fully aware of the kind of reputation that preceded him. He wondered if she held the same perception of him. Y/N remained silent, neither confirming nor denying his statement.

"You know, you don't need to constantly worry about offending me. Believe me, I've heard far worse than anything your pretty mouth could say to me." Y/N couldn't help but feel upset, while his words were true, there was more to it than that. She wanted to express that she wasn't entirely afraid of him, but that wasn't entirely true either.

“Anyways – ”She interjected, clapping her hands once to shift the flow of the conversation,“ I got a new video game from a friend. Let me go get it. DO NOT DISAPPEAR. I’m serious it’s creepy.” Jason responded with her a cheeky salute,“ Yes ma’am.” Y/N disappeared into the bedroom briefly and returned with the DVD. When she came back she noticed Jason had reclined on the couch, appearing to have dozed off.

“Red ?” she asked softly, approaching him. She tried to get his attention again, but he remained unresponsive. He must’ve fallen asleep, she figured remembering what he said about his schedule. Retrieving a blanket from the side of the couch, she gently covered him. She sat there for a while, observing him as he slept. Watching him like this felt natural and familiar. Leaning back on the couch herself, she tried to unwind in the peaceful silence. Y/N couldn't help but admire him and all that he had achieved. Finding a friend in such an extraordinary circumstance was something she had never anticipated.

After a while, a somewhat wicked notion crept into her mind. She tried to shush the voice. Hanging out with Stephanie was sure working its magic, she thought to herself. It was a harmless little prank really, surely he wouldn’t mind. Against all logic and rationale, she decided entertained the idea. Tiptoeing to her closet, she retrieved the item from her closet and cautiously returned, double-checking if he was asleep. Here goes nothing.

[reveluving]

angel in hell ; the ghoul x reader

summary: hell on earth is more tolerable with his light by his side.

warnings: allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), very brief mentions of attempted su~icide, reader as an 'entertainer' is used loosely (for your creativity!), cocky (softer) hard-ass x beautiful badass darling trope mmm, reader was born before the war, age gap but not really (think him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but in 200-ish years old), strong language, bits of angst and more fluff overall!

a/n: just a little tester because I could not help it HAHAHA had this in my mind for a few days, and now that I've started the show, I have an excuse to post it 💅🏼 please enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

'You wondered how your dead father would react to your relationship with a deadly and smitten cowpoke.' ;

You were an entertainer before it all. The best of the best. A real knockout of the century and the kindest of them all.

If only you knew it had its downsides.

Your admirer (read: obsessor) being none other than the Overseer of 33 himself, forcing you into the vault lifestyle with him to be his beloved.

But your mental strength, your humanity, your free will was unbudgeable.

Not even the experiments could budge you.

Not until that one fucking serum.

You tried everything. Before and after your escape.

But the afterlife, or whatever the hell that existed outside of this godforsaken world, just wouldn't take you.

Your mama always said that by living a good, long life, the universe gets to show you what they had to offer.

Thank the heavens she didn't live long enough to take her words back, if she knew the hell her only daughter was put into.

And though the Vault taught you how to survive better than the poor souls on the surface, sometimes you wished you didn't remember how to. Yearning for the ignorance and the near-zombified state they were in over the pristine lifestyle that would jump out of you every once in a while.

At least whatever the underground snakes injected you with kept your youth intact.

Though, you weren't the only one reminiscing your old days, remembering the smiles that immediately bloomed from your presence.

Howard, The Ghoul remembers you.

Nobody at his great age could ever forget a sweet face like yours. Standing out from all the yuppies, despite being well-off yourself at the time, much like you were now. You knew your rights from your wrongs, and they were never for show. Regardless of the bags under your eyes on sleepless nights, or the scars that would decorate your skin after a rough-up, just until your curse magically wooshes it away.

Despite your scoffs, your wave-offs over your old life, that the present had no need for an entertainer, he would say otherwise.

All. The. Time.

Always countering your modesty with the highest praises, albeit sometimes lewdly.

But… not always.

He knew that you knew you were one of a kind if he was able to tell you his life before the bombs dropped. That he was able to tell you stories of his late family. That he was able to tell you that you were 'somethin' special t'him'.

You wondered how your dead father would react to your relationship with a deadly and smitten cowpoke.

But you were on your own now.

Always been for over two hundred fucking years.

At least, that was the way it was before.

Not anymore. Not with the foul-mouthed gunslinger and his pooch, who, to the chagrin of your man, adored you more than him.

Which, really, how couldn't you talk Howard's ear off for harming the sweetheart at first?

Disbelief was something he had lived with from the day he stumbled upon you in the badlands one fine night. The pretty little lady who didn't look like she could hurt a fly back then now aimed her trusty rifle at him with an unlit ciggy in between your lips. Not a tremor in sight as you looked through your scope.

He was half-tempted to be shot.

And well, you did, taking the shot. It did as good as a chocolate teapot, and as you quickly tried to reload, he took a good look at you.

You were a sight for sore eyes before, but today, gorgeous wasn't even cutting it, and if he wasn't daydreaming about your messy hair and sorry clothing article for a sleepwear, then he definitely was about that one night—your first night.

How you teasingly pulled the wide collar of your top down, revealing more and more of your velvety skin. How gentle your kisses were, brushing your lips along his neck like he'd finally break after a lifespan of wandering. How you looked up at him, lips parted and eyes dazed with lust and dare he say, affection.

He knew he was a goner.

But like all the time, he wanted to be greedy.

And for once in his life, after an eternity, the future was finally shedding him some light of hope.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: if something ain't right, no it isn't ❤️ don't worry about it, still hope you enjoy! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[hritika13-tamboli]

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 4....

°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°

Series :

Moonstruck || Werewolf & Vampire Hybrid!AU, Supernatural!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader | Werewolf!Taehyung x Hybrid!Reader (ft. BTS) || @jeonsweetpea

Summary: You couldn’t wait for Jungkook to break his sire bond with you. Not like you were thrilled an ungrateful brat was sired to you anyway. Just a hundred more days and it would all be over. He would no longer be loyal to you.

Chasing cars || brother's best friend!Jungkook x reader | forbidden love?au | college!au | slice of life!au || @oddinary4bts

Summary : when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

The Farmhouse || cowboy jungkook x reader | childhood bestfriends au | friends to lovers au |slice of life || @solecize

Summary : every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision. despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

Fool for you || jungkook x reader | college au | fake dating au | strangers to friends to lovers au || @btsgotsvt-blog

Summary : When Jungkook is finally single, you shoot your shot.

Supercharged || Jungkook x reader | supernatural au | superheroes au / villain au | Enemies to lovers au || @btsmosphere

Summary: starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?

Long way home || dilf!jk x best friend!reader | single dad jk | boxer!jk | friends to lovers au || @sparklingchim

Summary: jungkook's life makes an 180 degree turn when he's suddenly a single dad and while you're trying to help him come accustomed to the new circumstances, your long-standing friendship takes new turns as well.

°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°

One-shot :

Meraki || grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader | not exactly e2l but more like "i find you pretty annoying" to lovers || @taegularities

MERAKI (v., Greek). "to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself in your work." Summary: Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

Silent treatment || Gamer Jungkook x cat owner reader | Established relationship au || @angelic-vibez

Summary : Jungkook gives you a silent treatment after your cat ruins his whole gaming setup

But we loved too young || Bestfriend!jungkook x reader | friends to lovers au | lovers to strangers au | big timeskip au | college to adulthood au || @jl-micasea-fics

Summary : Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.

First class || rich student!jk x rich student!reader | universityau | bestfriends au || @girlygguk

Summary: in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

The witch sisters || heartthrobwitch!jk x witchfem!reader | witch au || @rkivepetals

Summary : When your seven witch sisters come across your almost- boyfriend.

Not like you || dilf!jungkook x boxer!jungkook x childhood enemy!reader | Enemies to lovers au || @oureuphoria

Summary: God had favourites. Jungkook figured that out early in his childhood, when every waking moment was spent trying to impress his parents at the expense of you. He ran away at 19 to escape the immeasurable pressure to succeed but he couldn't escape you. Six years and a daughter later, Jungkook met his childhood enemy again, except this time he didn't want to run.

Limerence || exes to lovers au | ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!reader || @kooktrash

Summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

Infinity || Three-shot | alien!Jungkook x human!female reader | alien!AU | dystopian!AU | dark romance | S2L || @runariya

Summary: As the last human in existence, what will be your fate?

Sweet apple biscuits || Jungkook x reader || @rosaetae

Summary: a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy.

“Hold him and love him. Tell him how you feel. Tell him how much he means to you. And whatever you do, never let go of him.”

Disney+ and bust || app developer jungkook x reader | Established relationship au || @1kook

Summary : There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. 

The lucky ones || Jungkook x reader | University!AU | Soulmate!AU || @today-we-will-survive

Summary: unique soulmate mark stains the skin around your right eye, making you an outcast in a world where everyone has a mark showing where their soulmate will first touch them. Unlike others with marks on their palms, arms, or cheeks, your eye mark sets you apart, leaving you to question its meaning and the fate of your soulmate.

Some way, some how || autoshop owner!jk x businesswoman!oc | slice of life | childhood crushes | friends to lovers || @1kook

Summary: Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you.

It was always you || naval aviator!jungkook x professor!reader + editor!jungkook | childhood friends to lovers au || @hueseok

Summary: as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.7

Warnings: Mention of Injury, Some Smut, 18+

Ch.6 Here | Ch.8 Here

***

You were not happy about being dragged to the Illyrian war-camp with everyone else. Azriel had demanded it, refusing to go anywhere without you since that night after the Hewn City. He acted as if he let you out of his sight you would disappear from him forever. Nothing more had happened since then, besides his need to be more protective than normal. Even at night you would feel the cool brush of his shadows running over your arms, checking in to make sure all was well.

You didn’t mind any of that, but bringing you out here when you had no reason to come? You were annoyed with him and he could certainly tell. You hadn’t said a single word to him since he had dropped you in this cabin. Not that you particularly wanted to stay at the House of Wind when all the Illyrians were gone, but that was beside the point. You didn’t appreciate him making you come, especially when it meant more time around Rhysand.

Luckily for you, he and Feyre had been gone for a few days. You sat on the plush chair with your feet tucked up under you, a book in your hands as usual. You were pointedly ignoring the shadows twirling through your fingers as you read, even more so ignoring their master in the corner of the room. You could tell he was growing agitated with you, not quite understanding why you were so upset.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” He asked, voice low. You didn’t look up from your book or respond to his question. “I know you’re mad I brought you here, but I don’t like the idea of you being alone up there. What if you needed one of us?”

You turned the page in your book.

A shadow swirled up your neck and hooked around your chin, forcing your gaze up to the Shadowsinger. He had stalked closer to you, standing in front of you now. “I don’t like being ignored,” he murmured, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. You shoved down the heat that was creeping up through you, reminding yourself that you’re supposed to be angry.

“I don’t enjoy being forced to come wherever you go like i’m your little toy,” you shot back. He leaned down closer, hands coming to rest on the arms of the chair below you. His shadow remained on your chin while the others ran over your arms and legs.

“You’d rather I left you unprotected, stuck miles up in the sky?” His eyes were hard, his breath fanning over your cheeks. You glared right back at him.

“It would have been preferable to being stuck here.” Your disdain for the violent Illyrian camps was not something you hid. You remembered the stories Rhysand had told you of their youth, and how hard he had worked to try to change things. How slow that change was coming.

Azriel leaned down even more, lips close enough to brush yours as he spoke. “Mmm, but then you wouldn’t have me around.” His voice was teasing, a light in his eye. You hated how easily he could bring your brain to mush, turn a bad mood into a good one.

You were seconds away from closing the minuscule gap between the two of you and press your lips to his. A loud bang outside accompanied by yelling tore you from the moment, Azriel running to the door as you stood behind him.

You heard the faint voices of Mor and Feyre, and then Cassian was dragging in a near-dead Rhysand. You despised the way your heart stopped at how he looked, the decades of your love for him making his pain your pain. Azriel helped Cassian pull him onto the couch as you hurried to the kitchen, grabbing any healing supplies you could find.

You ran back to the injured male on the couch, kneeling down next to him as you assessed what had happened. Azriel and Cassian shifted behind you, upset at the state of their brother and unsure what to do. “Go,” you told them, “stand outside. Watch for anyone coming. I can handle him.” The pair nodded at your command, following each other out the door. You knew their anxieties would only make this harder, and sending them outside to pretend to do a task would make everyone’s lives easier.

You undid Rhysands shirt, pulling the blood-soaked fabric off of him. He groaned at your touch, eyes rolling back into his head. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, focusing on the injuries in front of you. You took out a warm washcloth and began dabbing the blood away, trying to find where each wound began and end. You had trained in some healing techniques long ago, a useful tool when you married an Illyrian.

You had been in similar situations, cleaning blood and stitching up your husbands wounds. This time was drastically different, and not just due to the fact you weren’t really together anymore. He was quiet. In the past even his worst injuries he had joked through, lightening the mood as you worked on him. Now, he had nothing to say. He wouldn’t even open his eyes or acknowledge what you were doing. It was like something had been sucked out of him, something had destroyed him.

You finished stitching what you could before moving to his wings. “Rhys,” you said, “I am going to have to touch your wings to help you. Is that okay?” You knew he didn’t deserve this kind of respect from you, not after what he had done. You didn’t need to ask his permission to touch the soft leather you knew all too well. Yet something told you that this moment was not the one to start acting on your hurt and anger.

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse, hollow. His eyes stayed closed as you washed his wings with the rag, tears pricking your eyes at the deep slashes through them. You knew how much an Illyrians wings meant to them, how devastating it would be for them to be taken away. You were gentle with them, heart heavy as moans of pain came from Rhysand. You took your time making the stitches as even as possible, spreading a healing balm over them when you were finished. The last thing you did was pull out a roll of bandages, going back over all the wounds you had stitched up. With his fae healing he should be fine in a matter of days, but until then he would be forced to rest.

You had just finished placing the last bandage when his hand shot out for your arm. You startled at his touch, looking up into his now-open eyes. He was staring down at where his hand rested on your elbow, pressing your forearms together. You looked down as well, taking in the sight of your matching marital tattoos. “What I have done is unforgivable,” he murmured, hand tightening on your arm. You were inclined to agree, and you probably would have torn your arm out of his grasp and left in any other situation. The male in front of you now bore no resemblance to the cruel Rhysand of the past few months.

“Perhaps not unforgivable,” you gave, trying to ease his pain in any way. Your gaze caught his, taken aback by the tears lingering in his eyes.

“Do not lie to me to try to preserve my feelings.” His voice was thick, on the verge of tears. “I have treated you in terrible ways. I have said and done truly awful things to you.” He looked down at his chest, at the bandages cleanly placed there. “And yet here you are, tending to me as wonderfully as ever. I never deserved you.”

You sighed. “No, you didn’t.” His head shot back up to you as you pulled your arm from him, cleaning the healing supplies up. “However, that does not change what was done. What we had, once upon a time. Can you truly tell me it was all a lie?” There it was. The question that had been haunting you for months.

He took his time to respond, the silence taking over the room. You carried the remaining bandages and healing balm into the kitchen, putting them away while your question hung heavy in the air. Minutes passed while you cleaned, broken only by the sound of Rhysand’s struggling breaths.

“She’s going to reject the bond,” he finally said, avoiding the question. Your movements stilled, not quite expecting that. “She did enough to keep me alive before dropping me here and disappearing.” Truth be told, you couldn’t blame her. You washed your hands, drying them slowly on a towel.

“So she knows?” You asked, understanding that he must have told her. You walked back to the couch, looking down at him. He nodded, avoiding your gaze.

“She trapped a Suriel, to try to find a way to heal me. It told her. She’s angry that I would hide it.” You gave a humorless laugh, kneeling back down next to him.

“For the most powerful High Lord of all time, you certainly are also the dumbest.” Your blunt words shocked him, making him look back at you.

“W-what?” He sputtered out, not used to you talking to him like that.

“Rhys, please. She is your mate, is she not? You have already devoted yourself completely to her, something she had to have noticed months ago.” You sighed, pulling his hand into yours. “She will come around. Give her time.”

He held on tight to you, the ends of your tattoo lining up perfectly when your hands were connected. That was how it was made to me, to show the unbroken love between the two of you. The love that was now shattered into a million minuscule pieces.

“Remove this bond, Rhysand. It does you no good being tied to me like this.” You knew he still may not agree, that you didn’t not know his true motives behind keeping you around. However, you weren’t sure if there would ever be another chance to ask. When he was vulnerable enough to be kind.

You were pleasantly surprised when he nodded, thumb stroking over your hand one last time before he let go. “Okay,” he agreed, voice weak. “I’ll summon a priestess.” You nodded, standing from your spot next to him.

“Rest now, Rhys.”

***

You found Azriel and Cassian outside, sparring to relieve the tension. They stopped when they saw you, rushing over to ask how Rhysand was. You raised your hands, silencing them before they could even speak. “He will be fine,” you assured. “Feyre found out about the mating bond.”

“Feyre did that?!” Cassian asked in disbelief, eyes wide. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped at his shock, shaking your head.

“No, no, she found out while trying to heal him. Where is she?” You looked around the two males in front of you, catching no sight of her.

“She asked Mor to take her somewhere far away. Where Rhys wouldn’t bother her,” Azriel explained. You can’t help but wish you had thought of doing that.

“I see. He is resting now, but you may come back in.” You opened the door for the two, Mor winnowing back at the same moment. She pushed past you to get to Rhysand, demanding to know what happened. You don’t try to stop her. While you could feel bad for his current state, you couldn’t deny you enjoyed seeing him get a little taste of his own medicine.

You grabbed the book you had discarded and headed upstairs, mind heavy with the thoughts of your conversation with Rhysand. You were concerned he was only being nice due to the possibility of Feyre rejecting the bond, and where that would leave him. A beat of fear ran through you at the thought of Feyre rejecting him, and he decided to turn back to you. You shook your head as you pushed open the door to the room you were staying in, banishing that idea from your mind. You would never let that happen.

***

You had fallen asleep while reading, waking up with a sore neck and a rumbling stomach. You slept right through dinner, if it was even had. You stood from the bed, walking slowly to the door. You cracked it open and listen for any sounds of life before deciding to sneak downstairs to grab something to eat. You rubbed your neck as you made your way down, regretting falling asleep at such an awkward angle.

You enter the dimly lit kitchen, catching sight of Rhysand asleep on the couch in the living room. You say a silent prayer to the Mother that he stays that way. One interaction with him is enough for the day. You turn your back on the sleeping male and browse the cabinets for an easy meal. You begin to reach up for a pack of crackers when a cool shadow brushes against your waist. You smile down at the thing, wondering if Azriel knows one is out.

Your question is quickly answered when a hard body presses against your back, an arm reaching over your head to pull the crackers down for you. You turn your head to smile at your friend, a little surprised to find his face so close to yours. One of his hands comes to rest on your waist, the other landing on the countertop in front of you. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, voice low as to not disturb the High Lord only feet away.

You shake your head, a bit lost in his eyes and his proximity. You turn so you are facing him, hands coming up to rest comfortably on his chest. “Midnight snack?” You tease, gesturing to the crackers he had grabbed for you. His eyes darken and shadows swirl around you.

“Something like that,” he murmurs, leaning closer to you. Your heart is ready to rocket out of your chest, knowing Rhysand could wake up any second and catch you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, glancing at his lips. You should stop this, push him off and run back to your room. You shouldn’t allow his hand to move up to your neck, a long finger angling your head up to him while his thumb rests on your throat. You shouldn’t allow your arms to wrap around his neck, hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You definitely shouldn’t lean up and kiss him.

You no longer cared as Azriel’s lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, hesitant. You could feel in the unnatural stiffness of his body that he was holding back, allowing you to decide what happens. You pull him even closer to you, increasing the speed and passion of the kiss. Your body melts into his, the hand on your waist wrapping around and splaying across your lower back. Your hand slid up his head, tangling itself into his soft hair. You opened your mouth for him, needing him in every way. You gasped as he lifted you up onto the counter, pushing your nightgown up to step between your legs. You wrapped your legs around his hips, tugging him closer, closer, closer.

He groaned into your mouth, nipping your bottom lip. The hand on your back dropped to your thigh, running up and down the exposed skin. His shadows were twirling around your ankles, your arms, your hair. Everything about him was intoxicating. He pulled away from your lips, traveling down to kiss and suck on your neck. You moaned lightly as the hand on your neck dropped, fingers sliding ever so slightly under the top of your gown. “Azriel,” you breathed, arching into his touch. He growled against your skin, placing a harsh bite in a spot anyone could see.

Not that you particularly cared.

Your hips pushed against his, desperate for him. Your mind was a blaze of lust, of need, and it could only be sated by him. His fingers dug into the top of your thigh at your movement, a warning to think before you did that again. His lips came back up to yours, kissing you so hard you were sure you would bruise. You felt something cold brush against your heat, an almost embarrassing whimper coming from you. “They want to touch,” Azriel said, his voice deep. You moaned when the shadow ran against you again, teasing the edge of your underwear. “Would you like them to touch, my love?”

He was going to be your undoing.

“Yes,” you gasped out, the shadow delving to where you needed it most. You bit hard onto Azriel’s shoulder to muffle your moan, pleasure radiating through your body. He resumed the kissing and sucking on your neck, hand fully sliding down under your top to cup one of your breasts. You dug your nails into his back, the sensations overwhelming. His thumb ran over your nipple as his shadow gave a delicious twist against you, cries falling from your lips. He pulled his hand out of your nightgown to bring your head to his again, lips silencing the noises coming from you.

The shadow began vibrating against you, your legs falling open to allow it more access. You felt the cool breeze of another one dip inside you, Azriel’s hand on your thigh keeping you available to them. You shook against him, moaning his name into his mouth as he kissed you. You felt the shadow push in farther, the sensation unlike any you had experienced. It stretched you open delightfully, it’s twin increasing the speed against you. You bit down on Azriel’s lip, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth. His nails raked down your thigh at the pain and pleasure as you licked over the wound you had made.

You were close, too close. You didn’t want this moment to end, but the shadows seemed to sense the tightening in your body. They held their current speed and movements, bringing you to the edge. You arched against Azriel, head falling back against the cabinets as stars exploded behind your eyes. You shook against him, his shadows working you through the last bit of your release. He hummed in satisfaction as he watched your mouth drop in a silent scream, the sight one he had dreamed about for far too long.

He called the shadows back when he could tell your mind was blank with overstimulation, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. You brought your head back down, glassy eyes looking up at the Shadowsinger. Rhysand had never made you feel that good, and Azriel hadn’t even touched you yet. He smiled at you, brushing your tangled hair back. He took in your swollen lips, spit and a hint of blood glistening on them. You were the most magnificent thing he had ever seen in that moment.

“What are you doing with my wife, Brother?”

***

This is my favorite chapter so far 🫣 Please let me know what you guys think !!!!! I LOVE hearing your thoughts on this story <3

Taglist: @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @onlyangellh @hnyclover @greenapplesaucepi @just-a-social-casualty-1 @heyyitsnat21 @mirandasidefics @bubybubsters @mybestfriendmademe @thaynarajejheje @brujitafantomatico @justdreamstars @thisblogisaboutabook @lees-chaotic-brain @abeltownshipslittlebitch @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @fxckmiup p @its-sam-allgood @miluiel1 @nickishadow139 @hailqueenconquer @mika-no-sekai-blog @books-hlmc @stonerpersona @starsinyourseyes @meshellexplosionmurder @acourtofbatboydreams @captainsbaby

*crossed out users it wouldn’t let me tag :(

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Niuta Teitelbaum

Niuta Teitelbaum was a Jewish resistance fighter in Poland who despite her innocent, youthful appearance was a deadly assassin who shot dead four Nazi officers.

Born in Warsaw in 1917, Niuta was raised in a religious Jewish family. When the Nazis invaded Poland in 1939, Niuta was one of the first volunteers to join the underground resistance movement. She said, “I am a Jew. My place is in the struggle against the Nazis for the honor of my people and for a free Poland!” Niuta was 22 but petite and baby-faced, she looked much younger. Wearing her blonde hair in two long braids, she resembled a Polish farm girl, which enabled her to move around Warsaw without arousing suspicion among the Nazi guards stationed around the city. Niuta transported weapons and helped Jews find safe havens even as she put herself in danger repeatedly.

With audacious bravery, sometime around 1942 Niuta approached the Nazi headquarters in Warsaw. Questioned by the officer guarding the front door, Niuta, acting shy and embarrassed, said she needed to see a certain high-ranking German officer. She said it was a “personal matter” implying that she was pregnant out of wedlock. The guard at the door snickered as he told her the officer’s room number and gave her a special pass to enter her supposed paramour’s private office. She thanked him shyly, and walked through the building to her “lover’s” office. Niuta entered the room to find the officer sitting at his desk. Before he could say a word she pulled out a pistol with a silencer and shot him in the head. He died instantly. Calm and collected, Niuta made her way back through the building to the front door and thanked the guard sweetly.

Because her resistance activities were so secretive, information is incomplete. What is known is that in another startlingly courageous episode, Niuta shot three Gestapo agents, killing two of them and wounding a third. Then she obtained a white lab coat and pretended to be a doctor to gain entry into the agent’s hospital room, and shot him again, killing him this time. Niuta landed a spot on the Nazis’ Most Wanted list, and was given the nickname “Little Wanda with the Braids.”

For three years, Niuta evaded her German pursuers and continued her resistance activities, until she was captured in 1943 and imprisoned with thousands of other Polish Jews in the Warsaw ghetto, where she participated in the famous uprising of April 1943. For most of the ghetto fighters it was a suicide mission; they knew they were likely to die but wanted to go down fighting. Niuta was one of the few who survived the ghetto battles and managed to escape. However, in July 1943, her hiding place in Warsaw was discovered and she was arrested by the Gestapo. Niuta was beaten and tortured for several weeks, but she refused to give information about any other resistance fighters or activities. Niuta was executed by the Germans later that year at age 25.

For her heroic resistance activities, including killing four Nazi officers, we honor Niuta Teitelbaum as this week’s Thursday Hero.

[haveihitanerve]

What I believe would have happened to all the batkids if Bruce hadn't come in and been Batman, dark version-

Dick- he would have been consumed by vengeance and tried to kill Tony Zucco without Bruce’s guidance and support. Would have tried. He is dead by age eight. If he succeeds at killing Zucco, he is immediately caught by the police commissioner. At eight years old Dick Grayson is thrown in jail. He dies two years later, still behind bars. If he escapes the cops, he succumbs to his Talon nature as his tooth is not bitch slapped out of him by his father figure. He becomes a Talon and works for the Court of Owls, always present but never truly in control.

Jason- Jason never meets Bruce, never steals his tires, never gets killed by joker. He does not die at age 15. He doesn't even make it to age fourteen. He dies in an alleyway in Gotham, on a cold winters night, alone at age twelve. 

Tim- Tim does not stalk Batman and Robin. He is neglected by his parents and because there is no neighbor for him to stay with(cough cough bruce) Janet and Jack Drake take him with them on their cruise. Tim Drake is skinny as a bean pole and underweight. He gets rocked off the side and drowns because he never learned how to swim. 

Babs- Barbara Gordon becomes a detective just like her father at a very young age and makes it her mission to capture all the villains in Gotham. She succeeds almost and has about half of them in Arkam when she falls into a Joker trap. Due to the lack of technological access, she dies of a fatal wound at age twenty. 

Steph- Stephanie does not become a vigilante because of her father because he is taken down by Detective Gordon(age 18) before she has a chance to. Babs sees herself in the ten year old girl and starts to teach her how to be a detective and work with the law instead of outside it like vigilantes do. They create a strong bond however after Barbara dies Stephanie seeks revenge and is about to kill Joker when she gets shot from behind by none other than her own father, Arthur Brown, because with Detective Gordon out of the way he had a massive prison break. She dies at age 13. 

Cass- cass escapes from her father after her first killing and flees to Gotham, but without the protection of the Bat is captured by her father again and forced to become Ra’s Al Ghul’s bodyguard. Sickened with the death and killing required of her Cass committed suicide, but continually got resurrected by the pit until she could stand it no longer and stayed. 

Damian- Damian is never born, as there is no Batman. Talia never becomes pregnant with him. She does however, create a child with another assassin who is her lover and she gives birth to a strong, healthy boy named Aziz. He grows stronger every day until the day he turns twenty three, when Ra’s Al Ghul puts him in the pit and absorbs his youth, the same fate that would have befallen Damian had he stayed with the league(or in this case even been created).