Jason Todd X Male Reader

Evonne Shannon was a poor student mother sponsored. She was also the crush I had been courting for a long time. Wanting to allow her to shine, I gave up my place in the piano competition for her. However, she glared at me with disdain for deciding this on my own. She then instantly turned around and handed the registration form to her boyfriend, Angelo Zambrano, and said, "Ange, only you deserve this competition." Evonne liked sports cars, so I begged my mother to buy her a limited-edition McLaren supercar. But in return, Evonne mocked me and called me shallow. "Don't think I'll accept you just because I'm accepting the car, Chase Shannon. You've never understood me." With my help, Evonne got to put on a facade of a mysterious billionaire's daughter. But the moment she got money from me, she turned around and went on a romantic getaway with Angelo. I thought of Evonne as my everything and even asked my mother to arrange for her to join the family company. Within half a year, she was promoted to a core team member. She then conspired with Angelo to drain the company dry and even forced me to my death. "What else can you do besides insult me with money and a materialistic lifestyle, Chase? You're the most disgusting obstacle on my path to success. Only when you're dead can I marry Ange," she declared. I was heartbroken when I heard this, and that was when Evonne pushed me off the sidewalk and into traffic. Immediately after that incident, I was reincarnated to the day I bought Evonne a piano. She was glaring at me with disdain. "If you don't want to buy it, just say so. There's no need to humiliate me like this." I let out a dismissive scoff. "Am I the one who's humiliating you, or are you the shameless one? You beg for food but complain that it's cold. You're worse than those stray dogs on the streets. At least they show gratitude after getting scraps."

Atasha Quinn thought she had a perfectly planned life not until a promise from the past hunts her down. Atasha has one goal in life and that is to become a well-known neurosurgeon but when Conrad Sawyer appeared in the picture her dreams came crashing down because Conrad made her realize that her life is full of lies. Atasha refused to accept her written fate but no matter how hard she tries to deny she can't change the fact that she is bound to marry Conrad, a ruthless Mafia who messed up everything. Atasha was forced to live in a world where she was told what to do but when secrets from the past unveils she found the strength to fight and get her sweetest revenge. Will love sprout when one's heart is filled with hate and pain?

For six years after their marriage, Miranda Stone devoted herself wholeheartedly to being Mrs. Gibson. She only found out later that while he was abroad, Felix Gibson had been secretly keeping his first love by his side. Miranda had once believed that even the coldest heart would eventually warm if she just loved hard enough. But that belief shattered the day his beloved first love won an international award and threw a lavish celebration—while their daughter was being wheeled into a freezing cold operating room. That was the moment Miranda finally woke up. She took back her worthless love, filed for divorce, and walked away with her daughter without ever looking back. Once she picked up her career again, the woman who used to be a stay-at-home wife transformed into one of the most sought-after experts in the medical field. Her research papers were published in top international journals. Her breakthroughs won prestigious awards across countries. When she stepped back into the spotlight, glowing with confidence and ready to give herself another chance at happiness, the man who had always held himself above everyone else—so composed and restrained—finally broke. He lost it completely. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse with desperation. He dropped to his knees in front of her, pleading like a man who had lost everything. “Mira, please don’t leave me.”

They are never going to find the bodies of the men she killed at her mating ceremony. Neither would they find her. Her name is Emmeline Carrington, and she is King Carrington’s daughter and the last female Lycan. ************** Emmeline loses everything on the best day of her life: her family, mate, and pack, all gone in an instant. She’s determined to survive and prepared for anything until she meets him: Darius Fletch. Sold to him for only £15,000, she must serve him with her body. But soon, she discovers that Darius, who owns her, may be the same devil from her past. The instant Darius sees Emmeline on the auction stage, he knows he’d have to outbid everyone else for her. He may know who she is, but she’s now under his command. He plans to leave her breathless and begging for more on his bed, but there’s one flaw in his plan: her feistiness. Will his darkness consume her, or is there more to Emmeline than meets the eye? Rated PG 18+ | Graphic scenes and explicit language | Trigger warning.

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

I'd loved my childhood friend, Colleen Decker, for ten years, until a car accident changed everything. She loses the ability to walk and never stands again. Her fiance, Ronald Coleman, and other self-proclaimed admirers disappear overnight. Even the Decker family turns their backs on her, cutting her off as the heiress. I'm the only one who stays by her side. I drop out of school and spend two years caring for her, doing everything I can to find the best specialists in the country. However, the moment she gets back on her feet—during the proposal I'd prepared—she announces in front of everyone that she's continuing her engagement to Ronald. When I confront her, Colleen grabs my hand, her voice soft and earnest. "Lucius, I'm not doing this because I want to. I'm marrying him to get back at him for walking away from me back then. You have to believe me. I only love you." But during a game of Truth or Dare, Ronald draws the King card. He points at me and says, "Lucius, choose any girl here and kiss her for one minute." I look to Colleen for help, but she turns her head away. "Don't look at me. I belong to Ronald now."

Our third wedding anniversary was coming up, but my wife, a programmer at a major tech company, suddenly claimed she had to work overtime to meet deadlines. She said she couldn't go on the trip we'd planned. That very afternoon, however, her intern posted a video on social media. My wife—the same woman who normally wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure—was holding a screwdriver, repairing an old flip phone. The caption read: [Having a programmer wife is the best. Even when Grandma's phone breaks, we don't need to pay for repairs.] I chuckled, liked the post, and commented: [Right up her alley.] Within minutes, the company group chat exploded. There were over ninety-nine unread messages speculating on when I'd finally snap. Not long after, my wife called. Her voice was ice-cold. "What was that comment supposed to mean? How is Shawn supposed to face anyone at work now? "His grandma's phone broke, so I fixed it. What's the problem? Your parents have always spoiled you. You can't possibly understand real hardship. "Delete the comment. I'll make it up to you over the New Year; we can take that trip then." The New Year? I'd already waited through two other major public holidays. I'd even taken special leave for this trip, and she still bailed. Now she was dangling empty promises again? I hung up on her. My leave ended around the same time as our divorce cooling-off period.