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joshujin · 1 month ago

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dude, nice try!

◀ teaser • series masterlist • part one • part two ▶️

joshua hong has had the immense privilege of living 30 whole years without ever feeling so much as an ounce of jealousy. that is, until you come prancing into his picture-perfect life on your dumb burner account with evidence that his long-time girlfriend is cheating on him… with your boyfriend.

as he gets tangled up in your chaotic plan to get back at your adulterous partners, he begins to wonder if this growing discomfort in his chest was ever even heartbreak to begin with, or if it’s something entirely new to him—something that has the ability to eat him alive from the inside out.

♫ get him back! olivia rodrigo ⟡ hot girl bummer blackbear ⟡ lackin’ denise julia ⟡ mascara xg part one: 9.4k words pairing: joshua x fem!reader cw: strong language, mentions of/implied sexual activity, reader is highly emotional and tbh kind of crazy maybe even toxic but idc bc i support women’s rights and wrongs <3 tags: strangers to partners-in-crime to partners PERIOD, joshua pov, pining, he fell first AND harder oops, he’s also so incredibly whipped from the jump, a few smau bits but mostly writing, no smut, inspired by get him back! by miss rodrigo, basically john tucker must die except joshua is sophia bush hehe iykyk a/n: as stated in the teaser, this was a request for jealous!shua, though you should consider joshua’s affair with jealousy a slow burn in this one haha. if you read the teaser, i suggest you do not skip the parts you recognize here because i did cut some stuff out for the sake of length when i posted the preview! okay enough blabbing, enjoy!

dividers by cafekitsune! cover by yours truly!

prologue

the first message from you came in the middle of the night, as if the idea of reaching out to joshua had kept you up and tortured you mercilessly until you just couldn’t physically take it anymore. in retrospect, the thought of that is silly to him considering your first and only message was ridiculous and absolutely ineffective for what you were trying to do. but it makes him smile anyway. you’re just… so you.

of course, there was also the fact that joshua had been sound asleep at 3 a.m., so your plan really wasn’t well thought out—more a product of the rage that joshua isn’t sure whether he admires or should have you committed for.

his instagram notifications had been off back then, back before he felt the need to see everything you were doing and saying and posting on the stupid app.

it made sense that he kept you waiting, not noticing your first message until about halfway through his sunday morning.

he remembers feeling like it was an unfair assessment to make of his own long-term relationship, especially coming from a stranger. he also remembers having to sit back in thought for several minutes after reading that to contemplate what on earth you could even mean.

of course he loved mina. she was his girlfriend of a little over a year. you don’t stay with someone for a whole year and not love them, right? it was such a bizarre idea to him at the time—the thought that anyone could be in a relationship and not love their partner.

unfortunately, he learned that you were right pretty early on in your friendship. you've proven it enough times now that joshua knows you often are—right.

as he sits here next to you now, frowning at the odd sensation in his chest and listening to you frantically explain yourself to the bewildered officer across from you two, he realizes that not only did he never love mina, he's also starting to wonder if he ever loved anybody.

he has let go of all his ex-girlfriends so frighteningly easily when he thinks about it. on the other hand, he’s had a single month with you and he can’t imagine his life without you in it anymore. the thought makes him nauseous.

so now, it’s not a question of whether or not he ever loved mina; he knows he didn’t. now… he’s wondering if maybe, without even knowing it, he was just letting each relationship he’s been in happen to him—if he was just passing time.

passing time until what?

he doesn’t have the courage to respond to his own thoughts with the obvious answer, but he knows it’s the wrong question.

he watches you speak at a million words a minute, your cuffed hands waving in the air erratically and your brows pinching in the middle as you plead your innocence. he was sure you thought it was a pitiable enough expression for the officer to let the two of you go, but really, it was just painfully cute.

he bites back a sigh.

yeah. it was the wrong question. passing time until *who?

one month ago

“i believe her.”

joshua looks up from where he’s pulling up your messages on his phone and glares at jeonghan. “she’s a stranger. and you haven’t even seen what she said. how on earth can you already believe her?”

his best friend shrugs casually, bringing his straw to the corner of his mouth and sipping his americano nonchalantly like they’re not discussing the possibility of joshua’s girlfriend cheating on him. “i have eyes? ears? literally any one of the five senses? pick one and it can definitely pinpoint mina for the absolute snake she is.”

“okay, you’re biased, you hate everyone i date,” he mutters, returning to his phone so he can show jeonghan your conversation—if he can even call it that. most of it was just you screaming.

“yeah,” jeonghan agrees easily. he never made an effort to mask his feelings, something joshua still wasn’t sure if he appreciated or loathed. “because you date the most vapid, boring people.”

“oh, i’m sorry my tastes aren’t up to your standards,” he snarks, not bothering to look up.

“y’know, i’m glad you apologized—someone had to,” jeonghan says dramatically, making joshua roll his eyes. “i don’t know why you keep dragging these duds not only into your life but my life as well. why should i have to suffer too? you don’t even like any of these people.”

joshua immediately puts his phone down on the table. this is now the second time in 24 hours someone has claimed he doesn’t love or like mina. jeonghan raises an eyebrow at his sudden attention.

“what makes you say i don’t like mina?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

the man sitting across from him scoffs before putting his drink down and leaning his elbows on the table. “do you like mina?” jeonghan dodges the question.

“of course i like mina,” he says incredulously. “why would i stay with her this long if i didn’t like her?”

“beats me, i’d like to know too,” he retorts.

“jeonghan.”

he sighs, knowing he’s wearing joshua’s usually never-ending patience thin today. “okay, fine. you like mina,” he says in a way that blatantly confirms he doesn’t believe him. “what exactly do you like about her?”

“what?”

“what do you like about her?” he repeats easily.

“what do you mean?” joshua asks when his best friend doesn’t clarify.

jeonghan looks at him like he has two heads. “what do you mean what do i mean?” he asks, irritated. “it’s not some kind of trick question. what do you like about your girlfriend, dude?”

joshua is dismayed at his own silence. he realizes the first things that come to mind when he thinks about mina are physical traits. he likes her long hair. he likes the way she dresses. he likes the way she does her makeup. he likes her lip gloss—wait, no, not really because she doesn’t let him kiss her when she has it on… which is almost always. sure, she’s pretty, but… what does he really like about her?

he doesn’t have the time to ask himself what it could mean that he doesn’t have a meaningful answer, and jeonghan doesn’t have the time to laugh in his face and drive his point home. because at that moment, his phone pings, and it’s one message from you, just a little over 24 hours since your last message about him being heartless went ignored.

joshua glances down and feels his stomach turn.

i have evidence.

an hour later, joshua and jeonghan are sprawled across the latter’s living room. when they’d seen your message, both of them had quickly and wordlessly vacated the cafe they were holed up in, gotten to jeonghan’s apartment frighteningly fast, and rifled through the series of messages you sent—all of them photos you took of your boyfriend’s phone screen.

at first, joshua was just annoyed at how hard snapchat made it to read messages; most of the ones sent by whoever your boyfriend was were deleted. he was ready to wave you off and call your “evidence” a reach. but then, he got to more damning photos—photos he was a little vexed jeonghan got to see too.

because they just proved his know-it-all best friend right. mina was a fucking snake.

he’s shocked at the lengths they went to to be able to communicate with each other without being caught.

but perhaps the most damning piece of evidence of them all comes last: a photo of a woman’s naked back as she laid on her side in a bed—that wasn’t joshua’s or mina’s—away from the camera. it could’ve been anyone. the small tattoo at the base of her neck told joshua exactly who it was.

it wasn’t something he could refute anymore; you were obviously not a random person and you definitely weren’t mingyu playing some kind of sick prank.

“so what now?” jeonghan asks, both of them still starfished on the floor and staring at the ceiling after spending several minutes furiously swiping and cussing at his screen. “let’s fill all her shampoo bottles with hair remover,” he answers his own question before joshua can even open his mouth. “oh! or we can follow her around, inevitably find this tool, and kidnap him! i’m sure this y/n person will appreciate that too!”

joshua doesn’t bother entertaining his best friend with a proper response, choosing to ignore the suggestions altogether. his mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to find the point in his relationship mina might have started straying away. has it been happening the entire time? or did she recently decide joshua wasn’t fulfilling her needs to her liking?

“… his car and it’ll probably break down and explode at some point later that week?”

he frowns, realizing jeonghan has been suggesting ridiculous things they can do to mina and your boyfriend the entire time he was contemplating his relationship. it’s his first time getting cheated on, but he isn’t surprised at his best friend’s reaction to it. he’s more surprised when silence blankets over them for several long seconds before jeonghan asks:

“are you okay?” he sighs. “i know that’s a dumb question to ask. you’re obviously not going to be okay after finding out your girlfriend cheated on you.”

his frown deepens at that. it’s a fair statement. he always imagined this kind of thing would throw him into some kind of jealous rage—emotions he’s not really familiar with. rage like yours.

he wonders if he had been the one to find out about this, would he have had a meltdown the way you did? make a burner account and find you to tell you the way you did? try to find someone to commiserate with—even if it’s a stranger—the way you did?

no, probably not. he was telling the truth when he told you that all he would do is break up with mina.

and he’s incredibly confused to find that, contrary to what jeonghan is saying, he feels very okay with that. he can’t really imagine caring enough to do anything more, and he doesn’t know why. shouldn’t he care more?

if you and jeonghan were wrong about him loving mina the way he was so convinced you were, why didn’t he care more?

“joshua,” jeonghan reaches over and pokes his shoulder. “speak. you’re scaring me.”

he snorts. “i’m fine.”

“okay…” he responds slowly. “so still in shock?”

“no, i really think i’m fine,” joshua says, shaking his head at the ceiling. “i feel… normal. i guess just confused about when and why she decided to cheat.”

“you did nothing wrong. she’s just a conniving, slutty ingrate who doesn’t know that she’s throwing away the most decent man in the universe,” he assures him. “which brings me back to my initial question. what should we do now to punish said conniving, slutty ingrate?”

joshua sighs. “we’re not doing anything. i am breaking up with her as soon as she gets off work.”

jeonghan perks up, rolling over onto his stomach and crawling to him until his head appears in his line of vision. his best friend has a shit-eating smile on his face that makes him instinctively roll his eyes.

“can i be there?”

he knows he should say no. it’s an absurd request and it shouldn’t even take joshua more than a second to answer. but as he thinks about it, jeonghan continuing to smile at him like a little devil on his shoulder, he thinks it might be nice to have him there and shame mina for cheating in a way he knows he doesn’t really care to do himself.

he shrugs. “sure, why not?”

jeonghan squeals with delight, scrambling to get up. “come on, we have to make sure you look smoking hot so it hurts her twice as bad. you can borrow my leather pants.”

“leather?!” joshua repeats. “it’s the middle of summer!”

joshua texted mina to let her know he wanted to talk to her after work and he would be dropping by. she told him several times that tonight wasn’t a great time and insisted they wait until tomorrow, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about her convenience, so here he is, with jeonghan practically vibrating with excitement at his side, standing outside her apartment building.

“i still think you should’ve worn the leather pants,” his best friend says, “but you look killer. she’s gonna shit herself.”

joshua recoils at the idea but thanks him anyway.

“ready?”

he sighs. “yeah, i guess. ready as i’ll—oof!”

he stumbles a few steps and right into jeonghan as someone violently shoves him, continuing to push and slap at both him and his best friend until they’re several steps away from the entrance to mina’s apartment.

“what the—”

“and what the hell are you doing here?!” a female voice shrieks.

he wants to yell at this stranger for putting her hands on him. he wants to tell her to have some manners and to get away from him. at the very least, he wants to glare at her until she shrivels up in shame and scurries away. but all ideas of even attempting to do any of that die as soon as he lays eyes on the stranger.

your instagram photos don’t really do you justice (of course he looked. he really thought mingyu was pranking him and had even mentally applauded him for his effort to find a cute girl to post so consistently). your photos were well-taken and curated perfectly for your profile, but now that you were—for some weird reason—standing in front of joshua and jeonghan, he can confidently call your photos dirty liars. he can’t blame them, though. he has a feeling no camera in the world can capture how pretty you actually are in real life.

prettier than anyone i’ve ever dated, his intrusive thoughts remind him. prettier than mina.

“well?!” you screech when neither of them answer you, making them both flinch. you don’t notice your effect on them, though, because you’re busy frantically looking between them and the entrance of the building like you’re scared the three of you will be seen.

he knows jeonghan is thinking the same, exact thing he is because he is never rendered silent.

“i—uh,” joshua stammers for what he thinks might be the very first time in his life. “we…”

jeonghan glances at him, face twisted in amused confusion before he schools his expression and points his signature stunning smile at you. “you’re y/n! hi!”

“who the hell are you?” you turn back to them, cross your arms, and practically bark at him.

his best friend’s laugh is exaggerated and several decibels louder than it has any business being. it grates joshua’s nerves. he glares at him but jeonghan pays him no attention. “i like her,” he mutters to him before saying, “i’m jeonghan.”

“okay, jeonghan,” you spit his name like venom, obviously unimpressed, making him giggle.

joshua rolls his eyes at him and his increasing giddiness. his best friend doesn’t date often, but he shouldn’t be surprised that he enjoys this kind of vitriol. jeonghan is, at his core, attracted to the same chaos and mischief he himself is made of.

“what are you doing here?” you ask again, raising an eyebrow at joshua to make it clear you’re talking to him.

“i’m… here to break up,” he answers weakly. “with mina! i’m here to break up with… mina.”

he doesn’t know what’s come over him, but being confronted by you in person and unnervingly close in his vicinity has him forgetting how to properly communicate. the thought of blocking you was a lot easier when he had no idea if you were a real person. now, he feels like there’s no escaping you.

“what are you doing here?” jeonghan asks the question he forgets to return to you.

you ignore him, eyes staying trained on joshua as you speak, and something about you pretending like his best friend doesn’t exist forces him to fight down a smile.

“you’re not breaking up with her today,” you order him confidently, like you know saying it is enough for joshua to agree. if the way his palms start to sweat are a sign, you might be right. “she’s up there with siwoo.”

“who’s—”

“my boyfriend,” you answer before jeonghan can even finish his question. “i followed him here when he told me he was getting drinks with coworkers.”

joshua’s stomach flips. he’s not really sure how anyone can even think about another person in your presence, let alone cheat on you. maybe your intensity scares siwoo, though. it definitely kind of scares him.

“you mean… they’re up there right now… and they’re probably…” jeonghan’s sentence trails off, but you’re you and you don’t shy away from finishing it.

“fucking?” you ask with a biting and sarcastic enthusiasm. “yeah, jeonghan! probably!”

joshua winces. your rage was already palpable via DMs, but it’s near suffocating in person. it grabs him by the neck and shoves his face back into the dilemma he was quietly contemplating back at jeonghan’s apartment: why isn’t he sharing the same anger? why isn't he doubled over, throwing up at the idea of mina having sex with someone up in her apartment at this very moment?

“are you hungry?” you direct the question to him.

“what?” he asks dumbly.

“are. you. hungry?” you repeat, irritation laced in your voice.

“i am!” jeonghan announces.

you give him a blank stare before looking back at joshua. when he fails to say anything, you sigh, your temper appearing to deflate infinitesimally.

“they’re going to be a while,” you inform him like you’ve done this before. “there’s a fried chicken shop i like nearby.” okay, so you’ve definitely done this before. “we can eat and… talk, i guess.”

“we would love to talk. right, joshua?” jeonghan asks, pinching his side with more force than necessary. he fights to keep from jumping.

"sure," he finally agrees. "i could eat."

"thanks for ignoring me amidst my weekend-long menty b, by the way," you say sarcastically as you set down a pitcher of beer and three glasses next to the tray of friend chicken on the table.

"ment—?"

"mental breakdown," jeonghan whispers to him as he reaches to pluck a piece of fried chicken from the tray.

instead of depositing it on his own plate, he stretches across the table to put it on yours. joshua's eyes involuntarily narrow at the gesture. he doesn't realize he's glaring at his best friend until he speaks again.

"what?" he pouts at him but his eyes glint with mischief. "ladies first."

"thanks," you murmur, not-at-all sounding thankful. jeonghan snorts. "well? explain your rude behavior." he looks back over to you to find you sulking. you add more chicken to your plate even though you haven't touched the one jeonghan gave you.

"ah." joshua shakes his head. "i was just... not all the way convinced you weren't my friend trying to mess with me."

"mingyu," you say the name a lot like you said jeonghan's and for some reason, it makes him smile.

"yeah," he confirms, laughing a little. "mingyu. he's been known to play a prank or two on me."

"our joshua is just very gullible," jeonghan supplies as he serves joshua chicken now. the statement feels like a crack to the ribs. it's what mina called him when she was messaging siwoo. gullible. "so he's slow to trust."

joshua doesn't have a chance to argue that because you're, once again, ignoring jeonghan to ask him another question. "and now?"

"now what?"

"i take it you're all the way convinced?" you clarify as you tear into your first piece of chicken like you haven't eaten in years. with a full mouth, you add: "i mean, i assume you are if you're here to break up with your girlfriend."

"uh... yeah..." he nods slowly, distracted.

joshua is often described by his friends as a gentleman—elegant even. with the exception of jeonghan and mingyu—the two people who know him best—he is always polite and accommodating. he's careful that his clothes are always pressed and lint-free. he always has good posture, and he does his best to remember his table etiquette, especially in the presence of elders. he tries to be buttoned up and put-together almost all of the time, sometimes even to his own detriment.

so staring at you, wiping soy garlic sauce off your mouth with the back of your hand and talking with your pieces of chewed up chicken tucked into one, puffy cheek, he should absolutely feel repulsed.

he frowns at you and knows it probably looks like he is repulsed by you. but really, he's just confused about why you look so endearing sitting there, eating like it pains you to while taking turns glaring at your drumstick and glaring at him and his best friend.

"hello?" you wave your saucy fingers in front of joshua's face. "is he always this... spacey?" you ask jeonghan without taking your eyes off him.

"i'm glad you asked! no," the man next to him answers—also through cheeks full of chicken. "i've actually never seen him this nerv—"

"sorry, what were you saying?" joshua interjects before everyone at this table, including him, has to face the fact that yes, he is very much nervous and he's unsure why.

you sigh as you wipe your fingers on a napkin. "what is it about me that men's eyes just begin to glaze over as soon as my mouth opens?" you complain, the signature rage joshua has come to expect from you in the one hour he's known you bubbling back to the surface.

his eyes widen in horror at the thought of you mistaking his fascination with disinterest. "oh! i didn't—no, i'm not—i—"

"what joshua is trying and failing miserably to say," jeonghan cuts in, sneaking him a look that screams get it together, "is that no one here is ignoring you. he's just... trying to process all of this. after all, you had all weekend to think about this, and he just realized you were telling the truth, what? two hours ago?"

you stare at jeonghan with the same unimpressed expression you’ve been forcing on him since you met him. after a moment, your gaze travels to joshua, and he gives you a meek smile. you finally hum in understanding.

“sorry, i know i’m projecting. i’m just all…” you wave your hand wildly near your temple to mimic a muddled brain. “siwoo has done a number on me.”

joshua finally gains enough composure to string a sentence together. “i’m sorry i ignored your messages… and blocked your burner account.” you cringe at that but nod an acceptance of his apology. “and i’m sorry i’m not fully present right now. jeonghan’s right.”

kind of. not really. he was processing your existence more than he was processing being cheated on, to be frank.

“i’m just… trying to understand what’s happening, i guess. for what it’s worth, i find it really unbelievable that anyone would ever cheat on you.”

he ignores the way jeonghan inhales deeply and slowly through his nose. only joshua would be able to tell it’s the equivalent of him scream-giggling and kicking his feet when he’s trying to be discreet.

your eyebrows rise like you’re shocked joshua is capable of more than grunts and one-word replies.

“ditto,” you say plainly. joshua can’t help the immediate laugh that escapes his mouth at that, and he’s pleased when you smile for the first time since you met. “mina seems dumb. and not just because she and siwoo are ruining my life. you’re very handsome. and if you blocking me on instagram so fast is any indication, you seem very loyal too.”

you say it easily, as if giving out compliments like that is no big deal to you. maybe it isn’t, but even if that’s true, he’s going to appreciate it nonetheless.

unfortunately, that appreciation manifests in a fierce blush joshua feels spreading across his face like wildfire, much to his mortification. he doesn’t remember the last time he blushed like a pathetic schoolboy with a crush. it was probably when he was an actual pathetic schoolboy with a crush.

he clears his throat, choosing to ignore the compliment. “yeah, i guess we have the same, bad taste in dummies.”

you suddenly groan, throw your head back, and blink rapidly at the ceiling like you're trying your best not to cry. both men glance at each other and fidget awkwardly at the abrupt change of mood, neither of them being great at handling a crying woman. joshua has little to no experience with it and jeonghan tends to fall back on ill-timed jokes during times of distress.

"i followed him here months ago," you tell them unprompted. “i followed him here so many times because he was always so fucking sketchy. but his lie always involved ‘one of the guys,’ so i just thought his friend lived in that building.”

“and you found out this weekend…?” jeonghan asks carefully. joshua rubs the back of his neck nervously.

you nod, squeezing your eyes shut briefly before bringing your line of sight back to them. your eyes are glassy but your efforts to keep from crying were mostly successful.

“he lent me his laptop because mine stopped working,” you explain, rolling your eyes like having a broken laptop on top of all this is almost enough to send you over the edge. “his texts are connected on there too. i was at a cafe with a friend, and one of those verification texts came through. i ignored it but a few seconds later, it messaged again and i saw that he’d replied on his phone.”

“he told her it was safe to text,” joshua says, remembering the photos you sent.

“yeah…” you breathe, hugging yourself tightly and rubbing your arms as you try to self-soothe. “and i just sat there in front of my friends, watching him make plans with her in real time… brainstorm the lies they agreed to tell us… and i just had to pretend to be normal or else i would’ve burned that cafe to the ground.”

jeonghan coughs as he chokes on his chicken a little. joshua pats him on the back absentmindedly, eyes never leaving you, even as his best friend stretches across him, still coughing, to pour everyone a glass of beer. you sniffle as you accept your glass with a small nod, your body visibly relaxing as you take your first sip. he tries not to gawk when you down it all in one go.

joshua thinks this is probably what someone in love should look like when their heart has been broken: drunk and sad. now that the initial shock of seeing you in person has worn off, he can see how tired you really look. there are dark, bruising circles under your eyes, visible even under your makeup, and your hair looks like it was haphazardly put up into a ponytail to avoid having to wash or brush it. your eyes are tinged pink, a little swollen, and dull, like you’ve been crying all weekend. you have been crying all weekend.

and joshua? he’s asking himself why he hasn’t felt the urge to cry at all yet because right now, he could be the poster child for soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend who is going to be okay has been okay, is okay, and will always be okay. aside from his irritation with mina and her insane audacity, today is like any other day.

he’s never had his heart broken before this, but maybe it’s just different for guys. he read somewhere that men’s emotional intelligence develop a lot slower than women’s; maybe he just hasn’t reached a level of maturity you have.

“anyway,” you say as you stifle a tiny burp that makes jeonghan giggle for the nth time tonight, “i’m going to ruin his life.”

okay, so maybe maturity is the wrong word.

“wh…” joshua glances at jeonghan for confirmation he heard correctly.

his best friend’s eyes are lit up with excitement as he leans forward with impossibly even more interest in what the pretty lady across the table has to say. joshua would slap him if they were alone. what for, he doesn’t know, but he would.

“sorry, what was that?” he asks, trying not to sound judgmental at the risk of setting your anger off again.

“she’s going to ruin his life,” jeonghan answers for you giddily. “what are you going to do? i told joshua he should fill mina’s shampoo bottle with hair remover.”

that earns the two men another smile from you, but this time, joshua finds himself annoyed it was because of something jeonghan said.

“oh my god, that’s vile,” you say even though you’re grinning and obviously love the idea. “maybe i’ll add that as a little cherry on top for siwoo.”

“oh, he’ll be so ugly,” jeonghan claims like he’s already daydreaming about it.

“you don’t even know what he looks like,” joshua murmurs.

“i don’t need to,” he responds, smiling as he stares off into the distance. “a stupid motherfucker who can cheat on our lovely y/n, here, like that has to look like ass.”

you roll your eyes at the compliment but your cheeks turn a cute shade of pink anyway.

“well, making him bald will look like child’s play when i’m done with him,” you match jeonghan’s dreamy tone, and joshua feels a chill of fear from having the two of you at the same table crawl up his spine. why was he a magnet for agents of chaos?

“is that why you haven’t broken up?” he asks. “you’re scheming to ruin his life?”

you frown. “what makes you think we haven’t broken up?”

joshua shrugs. “maybe the fact that you followed him here and then shoved me and my best friend into next week to keep us from attracting any attention?”

jeonghan snickers and your cheeks turn a darker shade.

“ah, right.” you nod once. “sorry about that.” you don’t look sorry at all and joshua finds himself thinking it’s amusing. “i suppose that was a bit… rude.”

joshua hums like he’s contemplating your apology but he knows it’s clear he’s fighting a smile as he brings his beer to his lips.

you sigh. “anyway, yes. that’s why i’m still with him. he doesn’t even know i know. i’m trying to get my ducks in a row and figure out the most devastating way to leave him.”

jeonghan smirks. “my kind of girl.”

joshua’s foot finds his best friend’s and stomps on it as hard as he can without thinking twice about it. it almost shocks him—how much it felt like instinct—but after the day he’s had, he thinks he’s entitled to a bit of a tantrum. maybe this is how he is when his heart is broken. a little mean.

“ow, what the fu—”

“so what’s the plan?” joshua asks loudly when your eyes snap up to jeonghan mid-sip over the glass of your beer.

you lick your lips clean of foam before setting the glass down, and joshua forces himself to look away when he notices how plump and pink they are.

“well, to be honest… i haven’t been the smartest,” you admit, seeming timid for the first time since you barged into his DMs. it’s an odd look on you. “i—um. i kind of rely on him… financially.”

the explanation comes tumbling past your lips after that like you’re afraid the two of them are going to judge you if you allow even a second of silence to pass.

“i had a job! i had a great job! but siwoo’s a bit traditional, and he comes from a more conservative family that really buys into gender roles, and i mean, fuck that, right?”

you give them no chance to agree.

“i’m a feminist! i swear to god i’m a fucking feminist!” you’re practically shouting now and the two men are so stunned, they can’t bring themselves to notice or care that the other patrons of the restaurant are starting to look over. “but i was in love! and i thought i was going to marry this moron! so i convinced myself i wanted to stay home and i wanted to clean the house and take care of a man—”

you say the word with so much disgust, both joshua and jeonghan struggle to keep from laughing.

“—and he was so happy when i quit my job like he’s been asking me to, and i thought i was happy too, like, what woman doesn’t want to be taken care of by a rich man?!”

you pause to burp briefly but it still isn’t enough time for either of them to get a word in.

“though again, i was in love! i was looking at that shithead through rose-tinted glasses! he’s nothing but a spoiled mama’s boy with a rich family! that asshole doesn’t have to do anything for the wealth he has! so, like, really… what woman wants to be fake-taken-care-of by a 30-something-year-old mama’s boy?!”

the words come with even more disgust than “man.”

“and he had the nerve to act like he was better than me because i had to work for everything i had before him! like, dude. if your bank account is still connected to your fucking mom’s, lower your goddamn voice when speaking to me!”

his best friend’s mouth drops open in absolute joy-filled shock at your biting remark. he’s enjoying meeting someone as chaotic as he is too much.

“and what was it for?! empty promises that he would propose soon?! endless faked orgasms for a man who’s afraid to give a woman head?!”

jeonghan chokes again, this time on nothing. joshua has more decorum but he can’t help the way his face turns bright red.

“you’d swear i was harboring a monster down there the way he cringed at the mere mention of oral, like, what is he, 12?!”

joshua has to avert his eyes to the ceiling of the restaurant at the mention of your “monster,” and he can’t even get it together long enough to nudge jeonghan when he bursts into hysterical laughter. they might as well be nonexistent, though, because you keep barreling through your rant.

“i was on track to be a director before 30! i was a fucking star! and look what he made me!” you screech, words slurring.

it takes your slurred speech and yet another burp for joshua to realize with mild horror that the pitcher of beer is almost empty, and that he and jeonghan are still on their first glasses. he elbows his best friend, who’s still cackling, and motions at the pitcher. jeonghan sighs happily as the last of his laughter leaves him and mutters a quiet: holy shit, pretty aggretsuko can drink.

“he turned me into a housewife! and i remind you: I AM A FEMINIST!” you slam your palms against the table to each word to punctuate your point. joshua can see why you picked aggretsuko for your burner account. “i support a woman’s choice to be a housewife if that’s what she wants, but my dumb ass didn’t realize that this isn’t the life i wanted until this fucking weekend! god!” you groan miserably. “all of this heartache and for what?! he cheated on me and now i’m jobless and about to be homeless and completely broke, and i…”

you abruptly run out of steam, slumping in your seat and looking at your near-empty glass of beer pitifully. joshua has the urge to round the table and give you a hug, but he stays put, trying to process the whiplash of witnessing what he imagines is a mini “menty b.”

you take a few breaths before quietly saying, “i can’t believe this is what being in love got me.”

something violently lurches inside joshua’s chest when you say that.

“i can’t believe something that’s supposed to be as beautiful as love blinded me so badly.” your voice cracks. your eyes well with tears and this time, you make no move to stop them as they begin to streak your face. “how the hell can love hurt this much?”

joshua’s mouth falls open to say something—anything. any kind of comfort or kindness or advice. but no sound escapes his lips as he watches your heart break into tiny, little pieces in front of him.

he’ll look back at this moment and realize this was the first time his heart knew something before he, himself, did: what he had with mina wasn’t love—that he had actually never even been in love before. there’s no world where mina would ever have the kind of effect siwoo has on you on him, and there isn't anything mina can do that would make joshua scorn the concept of love because it's something he never even experienced with her in the first place.

but for now, all he can think is that, despite barely knowing you and despite being somewhat afraid of you, he has an insatiable want to fix this for you. he wants you to stop crying. he wants to see the rare smiles they were gifted tonight on your face once more. most of all, he wants to make the man who made you cry sorry for ever entering your life.

the words are out of his mouth before he can think twice about them.

“i’ll help you.” you immediately stop crying and look up at him with wide eyes. “i’ll help you ruin this idiot’s life. and when the two of us are through with him, i promise you he’ll be afraid to breathe within a 10-mile vicinity of you.”

joshua is surprised you haven’t already responded to tease him about his fickle typing bubbles because for the last ten minutes, he’s tried and stopped, tried and stopped (stopped, stopped, stopped) to find a response to your question that was not only honest with you, but with himself.

it’s not lost on him how unconcerned and unbothered he was with the repulsive and heinous death his relationship suffered last night. jeonghan made sure to point it out the entire way home, all while nearly choking him and stimming his socked, shoeless feet against his torso during his piggyback ride.

“so are we going to talk about the fact that you had zero reaction to mina having a guy up in her apartment?” jeonghan muttered not one minute after demanding joshua carry him home.

“we were in the presence of a stranger,” joshua grumbled, adjusting jeonghan higher on his back. “how should i have reacted?”

jeonghan hummed in thought. “i guess if it were me, i wouldn’t have really cared about strangers. i would’ve started with busting into her apartment and hoping you were present to keep me from committing second-degree murder. that’s a start, no?”

joshua sighed. “you’ve known me practically my entire life. i’ve never been like that.”

“i know.”

he said it in a resigned way, as if a visceral reaction was a healthy one and joshua was depriving himself. as if jeonghan wanted more for him—like he wanted him to cause a scene and make a fuss. the thought confused him but he stayed silent as his best friend continued.

“i kind of just… i don’t know, worry?”

joshua smiled. he could practically hear the wince on jeonghan’s face from having to be serious as he spoke.

“i lowkey expected a meltdown like y/n’s from you at my place. are you sure you’re okay? i feel like i’m waiting for the aftershock of an earthquake.”

“are you saying you think i’m emotionally repressed?” he asked, putting the pieces together and saying what jeonghan was dancing around.

“well, if you think that’s what i’m saying, who am i to argue with your interpretation of my words?”

he snickered. “i literally cried when you told me about that deep-sea anglerfish that swam to the surface of the ocean to see the sun before it died. i wouldn’t call myself emotionally repressed.”

“okay, repressed isn’t the right word,” jeonghan conceded. “it’s just—ugh, hold on.”

he suddenly started wriggling in his hold, obviously asking to be let down without vocalizing it. joshua squatted down to let him off his back, and before he could straighten all the way up, jeonghan had him by the shoulders and was turning him around almost violently.

“ungh!” joshua grunted as he came face-to-face with him.

“listen,” he said, capturing joshua’s face between his hands, forcing his wide, surprised eyes to meet jeonghan’s. “i’m going to ask you something seriously, and i want you to answer just as seriously, okay?”

joshua frowned. “okay…”

jeonghan nodded curtly once before speaking. “your girlfriend of over a year is cheating on you.”

“dude. i kn—”

“uh-uh, i’m speaking,” he deadpanned, tapping a finger against joshua’s temple.

he sighed. “okay, go on.”

“your girlfriend of over a year is cheating on you,” he repeated, this time slower and with more emphasis, as if it was something he was convinced joshua didn’t totally understand. “she went out of her way to sneak behind your back, and not only lie to—your—face!” he practically shouted. “but laugh about lying to your face with that scumbag asshole. and when you went over to break up with her, she was entertaining her side-piece in her apartment!”

joshua fidgeted under his hold. having it repeated like this did hurt him, and although he spent a lot of this time wondering why he wasn’t as affected as you were, he felt a little sad and lonely now, standing there being reminded that his relationship just imploded.

“in all of this,” jeonghan continued, “the most reaction i saw from you was some quiet cussing when we looked through y/n’s screenshots, and i know you’re capable of being upset.” he smirked. “anglerfish aside, i know that you can express emotion healthily. so…” he took a deep breath.

when he didn’t say anything for several seconds, obviously hesitating, joshua raised his eyebrows. “so…?”

jeonghan’s gaze flicked down to him from where he had been frowning at nothing above his head.

“so…” he inhaled slowly. “do you think you really… truly loved mina?”

he hadn’t been able to answer a barefoot jeonghan last night, and even after tossing and turning for hours and thinking of nothing else this morning, joshua finds that he still doesn’t have an answer.

if he measured love by how heartbroken someone was after it ended, he’d say you were (are?) madly in love with siwoo and he’s basically been in a committed friendship with mina—apparently a shitty one at that. but is that even the proper way to measure love? did the way he cared for mina for the past year count for nothing? a tender, aching hurt bloomed in his chest when jeonghan stopped him and forced him to look at his love life closely, and it has just grown since then. he doesn’t know if it’s telling him that love is more than the way it ends or if it’s telling him he’s been living life without it.

the jarring sound of his phone ringing interrupts his introspection, and he’s startled to find your contact on the incoming call. he quietly gets up from his desk and vacates his cubicle, where he has been neglecting his work to figure out a way to respond to you. he slips into one of the office’s private phone rooms and answers.

“hello…?” he rolls his eyes at how confused his sounds. smooth.

“you’re taking ages to reply,” you inform him, forgoing a normal greeting. “thought i’d call and see what has you so committed to sending me nothing but typing bubbles.”

joshua sighs harder than he needs to, sinking into the seat in the booth. “do you have nothing better to do than stare at my messages and wait for a reply?”

“no,” you scoff. “should i remind you i’m a stay-at-home girlfriend?” you spit the words out like you’re ashamed of them. he knows that you are and winces, silently chiding himself for the poorly timed joke. “i’m not doing anything for that cheater and his apartment while i have to continue living in this hellhole.”

“fair,” joshua says quickly. “sorry. forgot for a second.”

you snort. “it’s fine. what are you thinking about?”

“um, i’m at work, so… work?”

“no, dude, in regard to my question,” you remind him, laughing. he squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to groan. he knows he’s not doing a good job of convincing you that you don’t make him nervous. “why are you overthinking your answer so hard?”

“i’m not overthinking,” he mutters petulantly. “i’m just…”

“thinking overly hard?”

he hates that he cracks a smile at that. “fine, i might be overthinking.”

“oh! well, welcome to my page. i’m glad we’re now on the same one.” he can’t help but grin even wider at your apparently never-ending well of sarcasm. “so what are we overthinking about?”

we. you just met last night—barely agreed to help each other last night—and already, there’s a we. and already, joshua feels comfortable with the notion of that.

he shrugs even though you can’t see him. he slides down until his neck meets the curve of his seat and he stares at the ceiling as he speaks. “i was there to break up with her last night.”

you hum. “i remember. and you still want to.”

it’s more an observation than a question.

“well, i guess that’s what i’m overthinking about.”

“bro, i get it,” you say, shuffling around in what he assumes is your bed. he narrows his eyes at the word bro. “staying with your awful partner and pretending like everything’s okay when all you want to do is strangle him is certainly not for the weak.”

“okay well, thankfully, i don’t want to strangle mina.”

you laugh again and he suddenly wishes he’d gotten to see and hear you do that in person last night. “so what do you want to do to mina?” you ask as the sounds of you moving around the apartment come through the phone. “please don’t say nothing. i already feel like a horrible enough person as it is.”

the statement derails joshua’s train of thought. “why do you feel like a horrible person?”

“probably because i’m committed to doing whatever it takes to burn siwoo’s life to the ground instead of just breaking up with him and moving on like a normal, well-adjusted adult, and if you say ‘nothing,’ it will just remind me moving on is exactly what i’m supposed to be doing. and i don’t want to do that! not without fucking some lives up first!” you end your ramble with a grunt of frustration.

“i don’t think that makes you horrible,” joshua counters. “i think that just makes you… human? i feel like the normal reaction is to want to hurt someone as badly as they hurt you, right?”

at least from how joshua sees it, he thinks that’s probably the normal reaction. if jeonghan’s pressing questions say anything, it’s that his lack of reaction isn’t normal.

the sounds in the background pause like you’ve stopped to think about what he said. after a few moments, your only response is: “thanks.”

“i’m just being honest.”

“i know. thanks for saying it anyway,” you sigh as you continue to do whatever you were doing. “well?”

“well, what?”

“you haven’t answered my question.” you repeat it for him. “what do you want to do about mina?”

he groans, letting his eyes fall shut. “i want to break up with her and forget she happened.”

“do all men move on that fast?” you ask, sounding genuinely curious. “like, do you all just decide you don’t love someone anymore and move on after, like, a week?”

“i’m not moving on fast,” he argues, opening his eyes once more and sitting up. “i just want to give myself a chance to move on at all.”

“so mature of you,” you comment. something tells him you don’t believe that, though, and you prove him right with your next sentence. “or you just don’t love mina as much as you think you do.”

“what is with you guys and insisting i didn’t love my long-term girlfriend?” he complains.

“who’s ‘you guys’?” you sound too excited to realize more than one person in his life has made this observation about his relationship.

“nobody,” he practically hisses, not wanting to give you and jeonghan something to bond over and tease him about.

if he had his way, he’d probably make it so that you two never hung out again; your threatening energy as a duo honestly freaked him out a little and something about the way his best friend acted around you irritated him to no end. but he knows that helping you with siwoo will probably entail jeonghan butting in somewhere at some point.

“i loved mina, okay?” he insists, annoyed with the way he sounds like he’s trying to convince not only you but himself. “why do you even think otherwise?”

he doesn’t think he needs to point out that ultimately, you two don’t really know each other. you don’t have enough evidence to make such a massive assumption about him.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, “ugh.” he hears something clink against what sounds like porcelain. “i guess i’m having a hard time knowing that i’m devolving into this… child who’s having a world-war-sized tantrum, but someone who’s going through the same, exact thing i am is able to handle his emotions maturely... and gracefully… and just walk away. you’re so level-headed. meanwhile, i feel like my anger is consuming me.”

he rolls his lips over his teeth and bites, like that will help him from saying something too intimate to someone who’s still virtually a stranger. he suddenly feels sad for you again. it shoves away the newly formed pain in his chest that jeonghan forced there last night and burrows deep in his ribs the same way it did when he was watching you sob over fried chicken and beer.

“it’s kind of funny,” he starts, his voice soft and hesitant. “i thought something was wrong with me for not reacting the way you were.”

“nothing’s wrong with you,” you assure him. “sorry, i know me joking that you didn’t love mina probably makes you feel that way. i’m just trying to find an excuse for why you’re doing this so well and i’m… not. guess it’s easier to tell myself you’re moving on so fast because you didn’t love her in the first place.”

“you know,” joshua starts making his own observation as he thinks about the way you apologized for projecting your feelings about siwoo on him last night, “you’re super self-aware.”

“pfft, well as my therapist would point out, what good does that do if i’m aware i’m being self-destructive and i do it anyway?”

he smiles. “does that make me an accomplice to your self-destruction?”

“of course. you’re still willing to help with project destroy-siwoo-and-maybe-y/n-in-the-process, though, right?”

he grins wider. “of course,” he parrots before getting serious again. “but hey, i’m definitely not a good bar to set yourself against when it comes to break-ups. i’ve had too many to be someone you want to compare yourself to. you’re not not doing well.” he frowns at himself. super eloquent, joshua. “i think you’re handling this as best as you can. plus, i’m not going to pretend like siwoo doesn’t deserve everything that’s coming to him.”

you giggle like the thought of siwoo’s life crashing to the ground excites you. he knows it does. “okay, well if you’re committed to enabling me, i’m not going to make you stop.” joshua laughs loudly at that and you join in. “you have a nice laugh,” you tell him once you both stop.

“yah,” he whines. “are you always so bold?”

“didn’t we already establish that i am? what’s the big deal, anyway? i think we should all compliment each other more. it balances out my devotion to rage and revenge.”

he shakes his head, smiling once more. his cheeks are beginning to hurt. “fine. i’ll try to get used to it.”

“good!” you chirp as he hears more clinking in the background.

“what are you doing, by the way?”

“uh, i’ll tell you later,” you give him a non-answer before quickly directing his attention elsewhere. “so are we leaving mina out of this? should i just let you move on and grieve however emotionally healthy people grieve and tear up the mina section of my revenge plans?”

he snorts. “wow, okay, i need to stop letting your antics surprise me.”

“i agree. it’ll make this friendship easier for you.”

“i’ll bite. what’s in the mina section?”

“oh, nothing huge yet since i know nothing about her. i have jeonghan’s brilliant hair remover bit in there though.”

joshua glares at the wall across from him. he agrees that jeonghan is generally brilliant but he’s irked to hear you say it anyway. “right.”

“mhm,” you hum.

“well,” joshua sighs, knowing that after several minutes on the phone with you, he has yet to give you an answer and he should really get back to work. “i guess that’s what makes the most sense for me. tearing up the mina section of the plan.”

honestly, nothing really sounds better to him than getting her out of his hair.

“okay,” you agree quickly. “i can’t lie, i’m a bit disappointed because the scorned woman in me of course also wants to ruin mina’s life, but you’re the boss.”

he has no idea why he’s the boss when this is all your master plan, but he appreciates the grace you give him. he knows it’s probably not easy for you to redirect your disdain for mina and refrain from including her in your mission to ruin lives. well, life—one life: siwoo’s.

“at least i can keep my girl’s girl reputation in tact.”

he smiles at your priorities: 1. ruin siwoo’s life 2. remain a girl’s girl.

“exacting revenge on mina would do nothing to your girl’s girl reputation,” he assures you. “she’s the one who isn’t being a girl’s girl. she’s the asshole here.”

“oooh,” you sing, very clearly delighted, “joshie’s getting mad!”

he’s glad you’re not here to see him blush for no reason. when he’s too flustered to respond, you chuckle.

“i guess we don’t really need to go after mina, anyway, huh? you’re probably just as angry at siwoo for stealing her away too,” she thinks aloud.

he stills.

joshua is a little embarrassed to admit he didn’t even consider that. he’s typically a proud man—humble and grounded, but he takes pride in himself nonetheless. is it weird that he didn’t think twice about the fact that siwoo disrespected him and his relationship by pursuing mina? up until now, his anger was mostly feeding off of your sadness.

“joshua?”

“uh, yeah,” he stammers. “yeah. siwoo’s enough.”

“figured. we’ll make him pay real good for the both of us then.”

joshua nervously squirms in his seat. “yup. well, i should get back to work,” he says awkwardly. if you notice, you don’t point it out for once. “let me know what we should do next whenever you’re ready.”

he can practically hear the smile in your voice. “okay, and you let me know how breaking up with mina goes.”

if he had his wits about him, he'd probably give you shit for sounding so happy about the looming end, but he doesn't. so all he does say is:

“bye, y/n.”

“later!”

just a few moments later, he’s back in his cubicle when another text from you comes in.

he wasn’t scared, just like he wasn’t annoyed that you ate like you were discovering food for the first time. the right word didn't come to him until he was almost done with the report he had been working on before you texted: he was charmed.

a/n: thanks for waiting! hope you liked it! as you can probably tell, this is already way longer than i planned on it being so i’m not entirely sure how many parts this will be, but it’s my priority fic rn so i’ll work hard on updates! for now, keep reading to see a teaser for the next part! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

if you’d like to be added to the tag list, comment here or send me an ask! if you requested to be on the list but weren’t tagged in this post or the reblog, it’s bc you don’t have an age indicator on your page. pls add that if you want to be tagged next time.

part two teaser

and when he felt a little better in his own skin and ready to put a “realer” version of himself out there, he met mina. mina, his longest relationship, and up until now, someone he was convinced was his first love. he said as much anyway. he was the first to tell her he loved her, he reminded her he did every day, and he thought they had a nice, long future ahead of them. what he pictured in that future exactly, he had no clue. but after an odd and somewhat unlucky streak in dating, he finally felt like mina was a nice and comfy place to land.

he’s never been more wrong about something in his entire life.

and after the laughable amount of breakups he’s experienced, he’s also never been angrier after the end of a relationship in his entire life.

mina was proving to be a lot of firsts for him—first cheater, first master manipulator and liar, first person who’s ever made him wonder if he could possibly switch over to dating men instead… or simply stop dating at all! sure, he would die alone but he would die in peace.

whatever the case, he's quickly approaching the conclusion that “first love” is not among those firsts, and it probably never was. no amount of teasing from you or jeonghan did it, but in less than a handful of minutes spent breaking up with mina, he is a million percent sure this was not someone he could have loved. or else what did that say about him and his taste?

sixteen minutes earlier

joshua arrives at mina’s apartment exactly two hours after work ends for her—5 p.m. every day because she always scheduled a pilates class at 5:30 p.m. thirty minutes for her to get to her class, one hour for her to finish it, 30 minutes for her to get home, zero minutes for her to get clean because he doesn’t care how presentable she is when he dumps her.

plus, however long it takes joshua to end this.

he hadn’t bothered to tell her he was coming over; he didn’t think she really deserved that courtesy. he may be intent on a clean break, but he also wanted this to be as annoying for her as it has been for him.

so at a prompt 7 p.m., joshua finds himself casually leaning against the elevator’s railing, ascending the floors of mina’s apartment and feeling almost excited to be free of this experience.

after he got off the phone with you, he decided he would bite the bullet when work was over. he spent the rest of his day absentmindedly finishing his reports, periodically stopping to scribble an idea for what he would say to his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

he takes the folded piece of paper out of his pocket now and runs over his options again.

his levels of shame and self-pity were sky high when he first pulled out his notepad at the office to write his thoughts out, but after texting you and letting you know what he planned to do, you insisted on meeting at a cafe beforehand to brainstorm together while he waited for mina’s pilates class to end. and once you both workshopped the entire list, his embarrassment diminished almost completely.

it was clear you took this a lot more seriously than he did. he doesn't know what he expected; you probably have a manila folder stuffed full of notes for what you plan to do to siwoo.

as such, you were very helpful. sure, you were also really distracting, with your subtle, spiced perfume he recognized as lola james harper, and your daunting and unrelenting eye contact, and the way your eyes smiled all on their own when they weren’t busy crying over siwoo, and the fact that you graced him with your laugh in person for the first time (every bit as fun as he thought it would be), and everything else that came with just existing in your presence.

all of it was really distracting—almost to the point of it being entirely counterproductive for him. almost, if it weren’t for the fact that you were so determined on his behalf to make this the most unpleasant experience for mina. he was mostly pleased with where you two landed, and if anything, he at least had a better idea of what he wanted to say. he reads the completely ruined paper, a mess of his black ink and wrinkles where you kept trying to grab the paper out of his hands. it was already a vulnerable enough occasion talking about this with you; he did not need you seeing his notes on top of it.

TALKING POINTS FOR BREAKING UP WITH EVIL GF i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because someone sent me proof! — cannot say this without exposing that y/n knows about siwoo!!! i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because i went through your phone and saw your text messages! — better, but am i willing to look crazy just to cover for y/n? yes what am i saying NO this will do ✓ how could you do this to us, mina? i loved you! — seems disingenuous? note: yell at jeonghan and y/n for putting ideas in my head later! i literally gave you everything you could’ve wanted, and that still wasn’t enough? what does any other man have that i don’t? — ok met with y/n for feedback. she says this sounds pathetic and that i can't let her think this has affected me. but she cheated on me? this LITERALLY affects me. i will come back to this one ok y/n made a different, better point: i am perfect and i should not present myself as lacking. so true. she's very good at this! do you really think anyone with half a fucking brain cell who's willing to homewreck a relationship is really going to give enough of a fuck about you to be capable of putting up with your insufferable ass and treating you as well as i did? — y/n suggested this one. had to workshop bc she's alarmingly vulgar. plus, it sounds a little toxic to say i "put up" with mina ??? not sure do you even regret hurting me? — y/n says this is silly bc siwoo and mina obviously do not regret anything, but i told her i do want mina to feel guilty even if i'm not sure that i'm all that hurt. she now agrees and says i should add: "or are you just so heartless you don't care?" she said this more colorfully, but i will remain respectful why should i remain respectful? mina is literally the most disrespectful person i have ever met. i will say what y/n suggested: ↳ my bad, i forgot your commitment to being a heartless fucking asshole has you by your ugly ass neck and it's squeezing with both hands and i hope it kills you GET HELP! — more for catharsis. will not be yelling this at her you're going to regret this and if you think there's a world where i take you back when you do, you're mistaken — wow, no notes from y/n! must be very good. definitely say this one!! please never contact me again — note from y/n: "why are you being so goddamn polite? tell her to fuck off and if you ever see her number on your phone screen, you'll set up an appointment on her behalf to get a lobotomy." ????? note from ME: have a serious discussion with y/n at a later time about why i, a MAN, can't just talk to WOMEN like this!

tag list: @coupsma @tokitosun @nothingbutadeadesceane @ateez-atiny380 @minghaofied @reiofsuns2001 @turtash @https-seishu @gaslysainz @dawn-iscozy @mrsjohnnysuh @sunnysidesins @thepoopdokyeomtouched @faizaa09 @hearts4itoshi @iamdkayyyyy @randojeon @iwannakisspoutycheol @youre-on-your-ownkid @justanotherkpopstanlol @sanaxo-o @seokqt @bath1lda @ilouvwonwoo @littlemisshyperfixation @mxelatrix-x @papichulomacy @o-schist @sumzysworld @alyssa19123456

#{ 📝 } → joshujin fic #svthub #joshua x reader #joshua x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #joshua x y/n #joshua hong #joshua hong x reader #seventeen smau #svt smau

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satorena · 1 year ago

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᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ SUCK ‘N SQUEEZE !?

featuring. g. satoru, f. toji, s. ryomen.

warnings. explicit content, foul language, a lot of tit play, lots of biting, nipple frottage, riding, true form!kuna, cunningulus, degradation (sukuna calls you a slut and whore), impact play, cowgirl riding, facials, reader has nipple piercings in sukuna’s, sub undertones for gojo, afab!reader + feminine descriptions.

rena’s note. repost cause i didn’t last two minutes without getting a community label… anyway pearl anon if you see this i did it !

☆ ☆

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔.

“holy fuckin’—shittt, ‘m so sensitive—can’t focus baby, ride it faster—rub ‘em harder, ngh!”

both of your moans bounced off the walls of your shared bedroom and echoed into the night. with your thighs straddling over his hips and cock sunk deep into your gummy pussy, you ground your hips and rode him with everything you had to offer.

your back arched whenever the tip of his cock would kiss that spongy area in your cunt that had you blinking stars away from your vision, resulting in your love bitten chest pressed up right against his sweaty one.

the friction of both your nipples rubbing at each other, the weight of your heavy chest pressing up against his, the tender mounds massaged by the proximity your boyfriend forced between you both— it admittedly turned you on more intensely than you’d assume. and judging from the trickle of drool pooling from gojo’s parted lips, it was safe to assume it was working wonders on him too.

“oh shit, babyyyy—this feels so fuckin’ good, god i can’t take anymore but i need it forever!” satoru whines, head thrown back as his arms tremble and struggle to support himself up. his pink buds are painfully erect just like the rest of his body, standing tall in their arousal as your own repeatedly enforce a foreign but welcomed feeling of stimulation.

both your erogenous zones are being attacked—nipples weeping and rubbed against the other, lubricated by body fluids in which eases the slide, and his cock being sucked into the warmth of your sacred cave. gojo swears he’s on cloud nine, a bunch of different mixtures of feelings overwhelming him in a way he hadn’t learned to experience earlier on in his life.

your thighs and back begin to ache from the domination, and so you opt on a change of pace. you switch the motions of hopping to grinding, dragging your hips back and forth as your pussy clamps down the penetrating penis inside of you. you feel your lashes flutter shut, consuming the newfound pleasure of the underside of his dick rubbing at areas you had yet to explore.

“shittt, toru—you’re in so fuckin’ deep!” the words roll off your tongue before you realize, your hands cupping at your breast pressed against his, joints in your wrists twisting as you drag your perky nipples onto his for more precision.

you zero in on him with intensity, analyzing as his cerulean eyes roll to the back of his head, cheeks flushed in an embarrassed hue of rose and thin lips all glossy. he’s crumbling—sweat dripping down his hairline to his chest as his heartbeat thuds intensely against your tits. you feel his dick twitch in anticipation as you proceed to grind down, your wetness suffocating his dick to the point of explosion.

“oh fuck me— c’mon baby, if y’keep doing that, i won’t last, ngh, much longer,” satoru protests with wet snowy lashes, his whines telling you one thing despite his body telling you another. betrayal at its finest, he thinks as he arches further into your touch, the sting in his nipples from overstimulation driving his brain to mush. this overwhelming feeling struck him through all of his six eyes, the pleasure weighing down on him in ways he wasn’t sure he could ever explain into words.

he feels your warm breath tickle the column of his neck and your lips trail up his skin. the plumpness graze at his jawline before moving up to the shell of his reddened ears and bite gently at the lobe. his hips stutter, searching for something more intense and his body jerks as he feels his climax suddenly approach, balls aching and ready to empty their load inside of you.

“oh yeah, y’like that toru?” you urge on, voice honeyed and teasing as you lean forward to ghost your lips over his parted ones. you slip in your tongue in his mouth and he moans eagerly while accepting your intrusion too easily, his own hands sliding down to grope tightly at your plump ass.

when you do pull away, a trail of saliva connects to both of your mouths and you flash your seductive smile at him once more, hips never ceasing to rock against his. “you like it when i rub my tits on yours? does it—fuck— feel good? c’mon, talk t’me baby.”

he nods his head feverishly and god, he wishes he could explain just about everything he’s feeling. the rush of arousal spreading from the tip of his toes up to the top of his head, limbs liquified and heating up, heart thudding so intensely against his rib cage, your sweet and sensual scent filling his senses and clouding his mind.

he’s turned to mush, completely melting down and he thinks he hears himself blabber about how good your pussy feels squeezing the cum out of him, how numb his erect nipples are from this constant stimulation but it’s shamefully turning him on, in ways that his orgasm hits him out of the blue and he wails with tears streaking down his rosy cheeks and his body shuddering against yours.

“shitshitshit—god, fuck, love you baby—love you s’much, fuckin’ love you and this pussy, hnng, fuck i can’t stop cummin’!”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈.

“ooh shit— work yer way up and down… there we go, fuck, throw some tongue in there, mama.”

toji had always been a boob man. and knowing his woman had the fullest rack, with a perfect amount of naturalness and plush, it was a no brainer that he needed to fuck your chest. to watch how you submissively kneeled and watched with pretty doe eyes as you perform something so slutty in his satisfaction.

kneeled at the edge of the bed, you wrapped toji’s cock in the crevice of your chest, sliding his dick in the warmth of your mounds. your hands cupped at your heavy chest, palms too small to fit the entirety of your rack as it spilled forward, nipples pressed together to entrap his entire length against your chest.

toji hissed as he jerked his hips up, working his cock into you. with one firm hand grabbing at your hair in a tight ponytail, your jaw slackened and lips parted to welcome the mushroom tip of his hard-on into your slick mouth.

“atta fuckin’ girl,” he clicks his tongue when you latch your lips around the perimeter, your tongue sliding to the underside of his dick and flatten at the sensitive skin. he watches as you struggle to take his girth, eyes misty as you gagged on the inches that fucked into your mouth.

“yer doing great doll—shit, that’s it, keep playin’ with your tits f’me.” toji brings his free hand to pinch at your nipples, the pleasurable sting jerking your own body as you moan around his cock, the vibrations running straight up to his spine.

hair matted to his forehead from sweat, toji groans as he throws his head back, running his tongue over his fangs. there was something about the softness of your breast suffocated his cock and watching as he disappeared and reappeared in the crack of your tits, sliding right up into your mouth and having your throat muscle restrict around his dick.

it felt as good as a regular handjob but so much more gentle, a touch so feminine and soft, almost with a hint of fondness but simultaneously slutty. the movements of gliding, how you pressed his veiny girth into your chest and rubbed your tender breast together, moaning whenever your stiff nipples grazed one another. his balls would rise into the crevice, ultimately sensitive as they tighten and beg for release— to stain your soft skin and pretty face in his cum.

“holy fuck—shit baby, ‘m gonna cum on your face, ‘kay? open up wide,” toji pulls out of your throat, and doesn’t miss how you whine from the lack of dick down your mouth. you pout slightly, a strand of saliva connecting from his flushed red tip to your bottom lip, but you urge on further to jerk him off with your tits.

saliva drips and pools from your mouth and dribble onto your chest, the squelching sound caused by the friction of toji’s dick rutting into you echoed loudly in the room. you push your upper body forward, and keep your gaze on him, jerking him off intensely as you watch his brows crease and furrow at the centre of his forehead.

the corner of his scarred lips tug into a tight smirk, and he releases his tight grip on your hair in favour to cup at your jaw. his balls ache terribly as you tilt your cheek into his warm palm, eagerly accepting the thumb he sticks in between your plump lips before pulling sea with a wet plop. “give it t’me papa, need it bad.”

it doesn’t take much more than your moaning around his digits and additional help of your fingers twisting and jerking at the tip of his cock for him to spill onto your hand, spritz at your face, onto your lips and naturally your chest.

“fuckkkk, shit, keep lookin’ at me like that, slutty fuckin’ eyes, yeah, take all of my cum mama.”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍.

“the fuck d’you need all’em tits for? you slutty fuckin’ thing—no no, don’t you dare look away now.”

when you tilt your head away, you feel one of his arms claw at your jaw and force your eyes back to all of his. his fingernails sting as they sink deep into your skin, and you’re certain it draws blood, but the pain oddly subsides into a pleasurable feeling.

you’re barely able to keep your faux annoyance, the facade succumbing as your body trembles from the overstimulation. you’re rounds of an orgasm in—sukuna determined to make you cum with every arm and mouth he owns. he smirks as your eyes slowly roll to the back of your head at a specific plunge to your golden spot, and you feel his fingers trail from your jaw and past your lips, the taste of your pussy sitting at his skin.

“barely even able to look me straight in the face—have i fucked ya up that badly already?” sukuna laughs, tone all but mocking and you’re half tempted to biting down at his fingers in your mouth in retaliation.

you want to bark back, push him off and slap the smug look off his face but how can you when he’s bringing you nothing but pleasure? you feel his multiple hands roam at your body, touches fleeting but electrifying, aiming at all your sensitive areas. even if you’d wanted to, he’s got you straddled over his lap on his throne, fingering you so deep that all you could about was pushing out more of your juices.

a big hand pulls and tugs at your tit, aggressively moulding the flesh and nipple, tweaking the bud with intention. his mouth sucks at the other, tongue flicking around the jewelry pierced into your skin. his breath is warm and his tongue coats your skin in saliva, ever so often releasing the nipple with a plop and blowing cool air on it, the chilliness sending shivers at your spine.

“you may be a foolish mortal,” sukuna mumbles against your skin, teeth baring and grazing teasingly at your abused breast. the jewelry shines in spit and one of his eyes spot his tiny reflection. “but this might’ve been your smartest move yet—fuckin’ whorish but smart.”

“stop callin’ me a w-whore.” you tumble on your words, bottom lip tucked into your teeth. you hold back every whine and moan that threatens to spill, desperate to keep the least of your dignity left.

sukuna chuckles at your attitude and before you realize it, your head jerks to the side and the heat emitting from a sting at your cheek has you moaning, tears falling from your lash line. your hips shamefully jerk and roll into his hand, your swollen clit grazing the palm of his hand.

“watch how you speak to me woman.” he sinks his teeth into your boob and you whine, back arching as you force more of your flesh into his mouth.

his eyes stare deeply at you, analyzing and soaking in every reaction you give. how you shudder and clamp down on the three digits that scissor your tight cunt open, how your tits bounce in waves that match the rhythm of his precise movements, how every time he curls his fingertips at a specific angle, you drool and flutter your eyelashes close.

your chest is tainted in bites and hickeys and sukuna doesn’t think he finds you any prettier— marked and claimed as his. try it as you may, hate him as much as you want, you’ll always crawl back to him, plump breast all painted red and purple, begging for him to please you once more.

you were his and only his. and if sucking at your breast until they fell off of your body meant keeping you as his, then so be it.

“ngh, f-fuck, ‘m cumming again— fuckin’ hurts but don’t you stop kuna!” you demand, voice cracked and scratched as you begin to bounce on his fingers, easing the job and chasing at that pleasure you seek.

it all happens so quickly, as you spray his lap yet again in your essence, pussy clenching uncontrollably around his fingers. sukuna takes the time to come off of your breast, letting a free hand handle the tender flesh as he then targets your hickey littered neck, tongue grazing at your jugular.

“go on slut—gimme everything you got, already got yer pussy beggin’ for more huh? let kuna know how good he’s makin’ yer pathetic ass feel.”

pearl anon, if you were looking for hcs then i’m so sorry 🧍‍♂️.

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swordgrace · 11 months ago

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𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄.

༺ cregan stark x fem!northern!reader.

SYNOPSIS: a longtime friend of cregan stark, you seek him out to train you with a longsword. though, a duel in the wolfswood leaves you with more of a desire for other things instead of swordplay.

anonymous request.

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 9.3K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, sexual tension, mutual possessiveness, size difference / size kink, cregan is much bigger than the reader, dominant cregan, cregan is a big, brooding hunk, sexually-charged dueling, p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, all stark men have a breeding kink, neck biting / marking (biting in general), rough sex, cunnilingus / oral sex (fem!receiving), hair pulling, fingering, groping, light bruising, mild manhandling, soft ending & soft aftercare.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: You can tell that I’m inspired because I’m putting out fanfics at the pace of a madman. I absolutely loved this request, huge thanks to the anon who gave me this wonderful idea and allowed me to bring it to life! ❤️ I loved writing for Cregan and I definitely wouldn’t mind doing so again! Thank you to all the love & support, you all mean the world to me! Enjoy!

“𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 — 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫.”

Lord Cregan Stark’s usual stoicism held a vast amount of protectiveness, the desire to better you in the right way, the Northern way. You had been taught all about swordplay by your father, but through the years, as you grew into your place as Lady of Barrowton, your skills had declined.

Ladies of your station were admonished for possessing any inclination of violence — a woman could not hold a sword, she could only hold an embroidery needle. A woman could not rule, only guide the men that do, and a woman could not become tempestuous, for it meant that she was simply a bad product or undesirable.

Thankfully, Cregan defied all expectations and pledged to teach you, hone your skills again from the ground up, if necessary. You could not be anymore grateful to him for assuming that mantle when he didn’t have to.

Your longstanding relationship with the Warden of the North, Cregan Stark, was the byproduct of many childhood years spent together — it was often you, Cregan, and his late younger brother. A deadly trio, to be sure, running through the Wolfswood and terrorizing Winterfell with typical childish antics.

The joy of youth had begun to run dry — you were nine-and-ten now, Cregan one-and-twenty, ruling over the entirety of the North. Your father was Lord Roderick Dustin, Lord of Barrowton and an infamous fighter, bannerman to House Stark. Of course, his duties were often torn between Barrowton and Winterfell, and so you were left in the care of your uncle.

Learning to fight again as a man would involve many hours and countless sessions held within the Godswood behind the Great Keep. It was only a handful of times each week, provided that Cregan was able to attend despite the rest of his duties.

His closest advisors had beseeched him to abandon teaching you, to let it die and rest with those with more time on their hands. Cregan refused to leave you in the hands of a less capable swordsman — what good was that, letting you learn the wrong way?

A crow’s cry reverberated throughout the Wolfswood, the beat of a flock soaring through the heavily wooded hills. Your sessions inevitably relocated from the Godswood to here, to allow for the cover of privacy and a lack of wandering eyes.

Hardened earth had turned damp and muddy in the presence of a deluge days before, certainly not sturdy ground for true fighting, but it would prove to be a challenge for the both of you. Rain wasn’t common in the North, but it proved to be quite a nuisance whenever it fell — and it fell hard.

He was under great scrutiny for doing this anyway, and Cregan preferred to keep the lectures of old men at-bay for a time, if he could. The young Lord sat beneath the sprawling branches of a massive oak tree, his horse tethered several feet away.

Using a sharpening stone, he turned dull steel into razor-sharp weapons, abandoning the practice swords he often brought with him whenever he met with you. That happened to be another point of contention — meeting with a young maiden, alone in the woods, without any chaperone.

Cregan would never tarnish your honor or sully your dignity — betrothal was inevitable for a man of his station, but he wanted to forget about it. Things were easier when it was just the two of you, sparring in the woods — he did not feel so weighed-down by duty, by leadership.

He felt less like the Warden of the North and simply Cregan Stark.

The mantle of leadership had become heavier with the visit of Jacaerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, asking that he supply his mother’s armies with Northmen. House Stark was an honorable one — he wasn’t about to break vows of fealty sworn before the late King Viserys to make his daughter heir.

It meant that war was on the horizon, a war that would involve himself and his people, a war that held the potential to rip the realm asunder. Cregan had prepared himself for a time like this, when oaths and honor transcended old traditions. Whatever storm was approaching, he was prepared to face it head-on.

His head lifted from admiring polished steel, gray eyes searching for the dappled coat of your horse as it thundered through the Wolfswood. His heart felt lighter when his gaze found you, guiding your steed toward his own to tether it to a sturdy branch.

Love was a dangerous thing, just as perilous as any war fought by men — both on different fronts. Cregan had lost plenty in his life, and he feared losing you. This friendship you had, it almost seemed to take on a life of its own, abandoning the line of propriety and molding into something else, something affectionate.

Cregan didn’t know what he felt for you, but he knew that it wasn’t anything a friend should feel.

Despite the bitter chill of the North, the day was temperate enough, one where he didn’t feel the desire to wear a heavy cloak or layer himself in furs. The adrenaline of swordplay often got his blood rushing anyway, and he would be hot by the time this was all said and done.

The cheer and excitement you often felt was displayed so openly upon your face, lips curled into a bright smile. Cregan had teased you for being too amiable for a Northerner, but admittedly, he looked forward to seeing your sweet countenance and sparkling eyes. There was a warmth you possessed, a warmth hot enough to keep him comfortable when in your presence.

“Dour, as always,” You hummed, dismounting from your gelding with a look of mild amusement. You abandoned the lengthy silks and pretty dresses of a maiden whenever you came to train, outfitted with leather armor that seemed somewhat ill-fitting on you. “I wish to see you smile, Cregan.”

With a sardonic huff, a twinkle reached Cregan’s stormy-gray eyes as he looked to you, brows furrowing together. “I suppose you caught me on an odd day,” He replied, placing the sharpening stone upon the pillar of flat rock he sat atop. “Duties of the Warden of the North.” He sighed, turning his eyes toward the dismal skies.

You could detect his stress from where you stood, moving closer to him until you reached the smooth rock, taking a seat at his side. “Something is wrong,” You stated. Despite the constant banter you shared, you were still friends — Cregan wore his exhaustion on his sleeve in moments of vulnerability. “What is it?”

His shoulders rolled in a shrug, letting the blade of his longsword turn downward into the dirt, its weight resting against his thigh. “Winter is here,” Cregan murmured, countenance etched with a somber look. “War is brewing in the South. I am torn on two fronts.”

The conflict between Rhaenyra and King Aegon II — you knew of it. The realm was prepared to rip itself apart instead of seeing a woman’s ascension, something that you felt a great deal of sympathy for. “What will you do?” You inquired, able to see the furling of tension within his body, even beneath his sparring leathers.

“Uphold the oath made before King Viserys I, and before the realm,” Cregan replied, his eyes filled with something stern and solemn. He would never break an oath — it wasn’t something Northerners took lightly. “We swore to see the ascension of Rhaenyra Targaryen, and we shall fulfill it. I’ve pledged two-thousand greybeards to send South, when the time comes.”

The admiration you felt for Cregan only grew tenfold — it was the Cregan Stark that you had felt affection for, grown fond of. He was honorable, a gentle yet powerful man who wielded leadership with thoughtfulness and integrity. Your lips curled into a warm smile, as smoldering as a summer’s eve as you reached his arm.

“You’re a good man, Cregan.” It was all that needed to be said. There were plenty more sentiments conveyed in your softening stare alone — many things left unspoken, but some of it boiling beneath the surface.

A soft huff escaped him before he shook his head, dismissing your praise with a shrug of his shoulder. “I do what any honorable man would do,” He murmured, but the both of you knew it wasn’t true. Cregan showed great humility even when he didn’t need to. He moved to his feet, holding a longsword in each hand. “But we didn’t come here to speak of a grim future.”

The noticeable difference in stature was a point of teasing between the both of you, and one that Cregan took full advantage of. You stood across from him, head canting to one side. “The only grim future that I see is your face, my Lord.” You chimed, and he let out a mirthful scoff at your prodding and playful use of his title.

He stepped closer, offering you the glimmering blade of a longsword. Your surprise was noteworthy, and he very nearly made a comment, electing to hold his tongue. Cregan knew how to handle a blade — he was a talented swordsman, seasoned and experienced despite his age.

“These are real,” You stated, feeling the weight of the blade within your hand. You half expected the practice swords, but this was a welcome surprise. “Do you think that this is wise?” Admittedly, there was a pang of fear at the thought of swinging a real sword. What if you accidentally maimed him?

Cregan huffed, visage one of stoicism despite the amusement that crept into his stern, Northern timbre. “You’ll have to learn to leave the play-fighting behind, my Lady,” He murmured, watching as you white-knuckled the hilt. He was surprised that your hand didn’t rip apart. “Don’t hold it too tight.”

With a sharp exhale, you glanced at Cregan, whose gray eyes were akin to the onslaught of a winter storm, dark-chestnut tresses framing his face. He was beginning to grow a bit of scruff on his face, likely a byproduct of the stress of his duties.

He was handsome — Northern perfection made flesh and bone, a gentle mountain of a man. In your youth, you had always fancied Cregan to some degree, but his birthright often prevented you from acting on impulse. Then again, it was best left as a fantasy.

You froze when his hand wrapped around yours, calloused digits forcing your grip to loosen. “Don’t keep your hands together,” Cregan rumbled, repositioning your grip — one toward the top of the hilt, and the other closer to the pommel. “You’re acting as if this is day one.” He challenged, and that got your attention.

“It’s heavier,” You murmured, recoiling away with a disdainful expression. Cregan knew that he was beginning to get a rise out of you, lips twitching into the ghost of a smirk. “It’s not as easy to handle as the swords we used before.”

“Did you expect a longsword to weigh as much as a feather?” Cregan inquired, attempting to smother his amusement when you rolled your eyes at him. He prepared himself, squaring up into an attack formation, handling his ancestral blade with ease.

A scoff escaped you, and you mirrored his stance, holding the blade to the best of your ability. There was a burn in your arms from the newfound weight, but you pretended that it didn’t bother you. “I might throw this feather at you.” You grumbled, and at last, that earned you a brief chuckle from Cregan.

“Ready yourself,” He warned, circling you with steady steps. Cregan knew that he wouldn’t hold back for your sake — you were strong enough to take it. You insisted upon it many times before, even if he was initially reluctant to do so. “Don’t hold back.”

With a soft grunt, you brazenly charged at Cregan, hoping that it would catch him by surprise. He seemed to be expecting this, nimbly dodging your sloppy charge as he stepped to the side. You swiveled around, blades clanging together as they reverberated throughout the Wolfswood.

The silver of steel glinted within the pale rays of sunlight glistening through the canopy above. Cregan maintained a stalwart expression, though it began to crack at the seams as you swung again. He parried the blow, shuffling within the fallen leaves and damp earth.

“You’re swinging like a drunkard,” Cregan quipped, knowing that you were smarter than this. In one smooth stroke, he shoved you aside, grabbing the bicep of your sword arm. “Don’t fight like one.” He grunted, brows furrowing together as you struggled within his ironclad grasp.

In a brief stroke of genius, you smacked Cregan’s side with the pommel of your longsword, causing him to loosen his hold as you shimmied away. He let out a grunt, watching as you quickly made distance. It was a dirty fighting tactic — he most certainly didn’t teach you that.

The flash of a triumphant smile crept onto your features, but not before the King in the North charged forth, the both of you bringing your swords up. Something blossomed between the both of you, a strange tension fueled by unspoken feelings. Cregan bared his weight down upon you, causing you to maneuver to the side in order to evade him.

There was a fire within his eyes whenever he fought, a spark that turned into a bright flame. Adrenaline made his blood run hot, and the more the two of you brought your swords together, moving about as if it were a dance, the more enticed and invigorated he became.

Cregan found you beautiful, strands of hair sticking to your shimmering temples, framing your creased brow. The concentration written upon your visage was enough to make him pause, admire the intricacies and commit them to memory. Even when you wore men’s garb to spar, you were still enchanting.

You were perfect when fighting, pouring all of your efforts into beating him, if that were a possibility. Cregan didn’t want to doubt you, knowing that you possessed a raging inner fire, a quiet strength that grew with the tenacity of a wolf whenever you were provoked.

Steel ripped against steel, the duel commencing deep within the heart of the Wolfswood. His heart hammered with excitement, breath hot and labored as he parried another one of your quick, flourishing strikes.

He pressed his advance, barreling forward as he began to back you toward the rock underneath a sprawling tree of reddish leaves. Cregan noticed the panicked look in your eyes, the way in which you tried every move he’d taught you to gain distance.

“The wolf descends, my Lady. Think hard,” Cregan rumbled, wanting you to try and get out of this situation. “The enemy will not wait — they will strike, and you will end up here.” You were intelligent, a quick thinker — he wanted you to be smarter than this.

In what you considered to be another dirty tactic, you kicked a mound of damp dirt in his direction, providing enough of a distraction for you to hop the gap. Again, it only seemed to corral you into a corner. You attempted to swing down with an overhead strike, but Cregan very nearly knocked you into the ground.

“Never strike like that again, unless you want a blade through your belly,” He grunted, watching with mild awe as you brought it down to the side instead, forcing him to parry. Both of your blades locked at the side, struggling to maintain your balance. “Good.”

The dance continued, becoming a game of wit — outthinking and outmaneuvering the other, blades clashing again and again. He pressed you back into a corner as he had before, the distance slim. Cregan didn’t want you to yield — he knew that you wouldn’t.

Anticipation grew, and you found yourself weighing the odds. Perhaps you were simply too prideful to surrender to Cregan, even if all of this was a learning moment. Either way, you continued to fend him off with quick slashes of your blade, to no avail.

The rock became dangerously close, nearly brushing against your back as Cregan pressed his advantage. In a stroke of what you deemed as desperate thinking, you lashed out with a mule kick to his sword hand, loosening his grip enough to knock it away.

You shoved him with all of your strength, and much to your own surprise, he fell right into the dirt. Your heart hammered within your chest, and seeing the King of the North strewn across the ground made you feel some sense of victory.

Cregan huffed, brows knitting together as he stared at you from below, quickly recuperating. “I didn’t teach you to fight like a sellsword.” He grunted, but he had to admit, it was good thinking on your end — even if it was dirty and unsportsmanlike.

A smile fluttered across your features as you wiped the sweat from your brow, preparing to assail Cregan with whatever witty blows you could think of. “It wouldn’t hurt you to learn a thing or two.” You mused, canting your head to one side.

With a stoic grunt, Cregan decided to employ a dirty tactic of his own. It was a playful move, acted out without any malice and instead, wanting to hear the end of your teasing. He lashed out with his boot, sweeping your legs right out from underneath you.

Cregan smirked, watching as you buckled and toppled over, though he never intended for you to unceremoniously land right on top of him. You dropped your longsword somewhere along the way, forehead narrowly avoiding smacking into the hard earth. Cregan caught you before that could happen.

With labored breaths, you immediately hit his chest with a light punch, not enough to ever cause any real harm. “What was that for?” You grumbled, realizing how close the both of you were. He was a large man, warm and muscular beneath you.

“I’ve learned a thing or two, my Lady.” Cregan corrected, a twinkle within his stormy-gray eyes. When he fully noticed the compromising position the both of you were in, his breath hitched slightly. There was nothing stopping him from grabbing your hips and kissing you then and there.

Before fantasy could become reality, you hastily rolled off of him, feeling a light sting of arousal growing between your thighs. You wanted to avoid such a disaster — Cregan was your friend, he was the King in the North. To ascend all bonds of propriety and try for something more would be improper.

He stayed on the ground for a moment longer, moving into a sitting position as he shook his head. “Throwing dirt, pommel-striking, and kicking,” Cregan remarked, planting a palm atop his knee. “Have you been training without me?”

“Never,” You wouldn’t dare seek out another swordsman — there were none like Cregan Stark. “I wouldn’t dream of having another teacher,” You hesitated, lips twitching into a bemused smile. “Though, if I am not mistaken, you do sound jealous.”

Cregan happened to stand before you did, outstretching a gloved hand for you to take. You did, murmuring your gratitude as he hauled you up and right into the expanse of his chest, emblazoned with the direwolf of House Stark. There was something indiscernible within his eyes, steely yet softening in sight of you.

The unusual tension had crackled from mere sparks to an open flame, your throat becoming tight as Cregan’s gaze bored into you. His shadow swallowed you whole, wisps of dark, chestnut hair sticking to his face, perspiration glittering across his temples. You still held his hand, watching as his jaw tensed.

“I sound jealous, my Lady?” Cregan rumbled, timbre gentle and thick with his Northern accent. The closer he pressed, the more the reality of the situation dawned upon you, keeping you grounded. You were afraid of resorting to action, afraid that something would happen to tear you both apart.

It was easy to tear down your teasing, playful side to nothing more than a smitten maiden when Cregan huskily addressed you that way. His eyes momentarily flickered across your beautiful features, particularly the soft curve of your mouth, and what little of your neck had been exposed to him.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, lips parting as a soft exhale escaped you. “You do,” You whispered, searching his countenance for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. When you found none, you began to lean up, rocking closer than ever before. “Quite jealous.”

Cregan silenced you with a kiss, one that could melt even the hardiest of ice. It was blazing and passionate, yet slow enough to savor the moment. You reciprocated, palms flat atop his chest as he wrapped a thick, bulky arm around your hips, hauling you in until no sliver of space remained.

You kissed him fervently, allowing your many months of smothered affection to boil over. Despite Cregan’s indomitable, intimidating appearance, he was as gentle as they came. He handled you with respect, his other hand coming to seize your waist, kneading into your curves through your sparring leathers.

Tension boiled over, fueling the fire that had been stoked between the both of you for some time. Ravenous was a mere understatement — you wanted Cregan then and there, if he would indulge you. The ground was muddy and certainly no place to bed.

He bit at your lower lip with a grunt, brows furrowed together in concentration. He hunched in on you, bringing you flush against his body, heat replacing the bitter sting of the Northern chill. Cregan was rough, but inherently passionate with how he treated you — no malice, simply a wolf’s hunger.

“Cregan,” You huffed, mouth agape as you attempted to regain your composure. Whatever restraint you had was hanging on by a mere thread, prepared to snap. “I …” Admittedly, you were at a loss for words, still reeling from the shock of having your affections reciprocated.

His mouth pressed against your jaw as he buried his scruffy visage into the crook between your neck and shoulder. “Seems you’re cold, my Lady.” Cregan grunted, feeling the onslaught of gooseflesh that had permeated your skin, continuing to prickle along your spine.

With a brief chuckle, you reached for his chestnut tresses, tugging on his hair in order to bring him closer. “Fortunately, I have the King in the North to keep me warm,” You hummed, gasping when he brazenly groped at your haunch, strong hands kneading into you. “I want you, if you’ll have me.”

“Here?” Cregan uttered, timbre deliciously thick and husky with desire. Even if he wanted to claim you for himself, he would’ve taken you somewhere warmer, somewhere comfortable. “You’re no animal, my Lady. I wouldn’t fuck you into the dirt like one.” He rumbled, able to taste your yearning.

Honorable and gallant — you only wanted him more after that. As much as you desired to rip your armor off and let him have his way with you upon the rock, the mud and grime afterward wouldn’t have been pleasant. “Your chambers, then?” You mumbled, feeling his warm lips clamor from your jaw to your mouth.

“If that’s what you want,” Cregan murmured, a playful smirk toying at either corner of his mouth. It shattered his stoic countenance, melting away all of those dour inclinations he held before. “You might change your mind, and I wouldn’t fault you for it.”

A huff escaped you, brows furrowing together as you shook your head. Cregan thoroughly enjoyed that you spoke bluntly and plainly — he wanted you more than you realized, keeping his composure for the sake of propriety. There was no telling what could happen once you reached Winterfell.

“I will meet you at Winterfell.” Your answer was clear, solidified in stone. You appreciated that Cregan had given you an out, but that was the last thing you wanted. He gave you another kiss, teeth nicking your lower lip before you retrieved your longsword and mounted your horse.

Cregan watched you ride off from the Wolfswood — the new Lady of Winterfell.

A cold dusk cast its looming shadow over Winterfell, and with it, bringing the sting of ice and a light snowfall. Clouds made their presence known, gray and ominous, covering up the stars until none remained. Snowfalls in the North often ranged between fleeting and treacherous, and tonight seemed to be somewhere in the middle.

Following your dance in the Wolfswood with Cregan, the ride back to Winterfell gave you plenty to consider. You found his hesitation to be noble, but you had made your mind up some time ago. The moment where friendship now transcended into something else had come, and you knew what you wanted.

Perhaps you had kept him in suspense on purpose, waiting until the rest of the Great Keep was silenced before you made the tenuous trek to Cregan’s chambers. You had cleaned up perfectly well, clad in thick, furred robes, ones that left little to the imagination. You assumed that you wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight at all, if Cregan were still intending to follow through.

The doors to his chambers were heavy, embossed wood carved from the thick trunks of Wolfswood oak, the handles resembling the heads of wolves. There was no guard posted outside — there never was.

If anyone knew Cregan at all, it was his staunch independence and his desire for privacy. He was one of the greatest fighters in the Seven Kingdoms, and no guard would change such a thing. You stood outside, steeling yourself for what was to come.

Your hand hovered above the wood, palm pressing against it before you knocked thrice, breath hitching slightly at the sound of footsteps from the inside. Nervousness suddenly gripped you — none of this felt real at all, and you were prepared to wake up in some distant dream.

For the longest time, part of you had silently yearned from afar for Cregan, knowing that he would someday take a wife, and it wouldn’t be you. You were just friends, and you were cursed to admire him for all eternity with nothing coming to fruition. You had come to terms with it, but now?

Everything had changed.

He kissed you with a fervor in the Wolfswood, a kiss reserved for lovers — had he felt the same way, as you did? Was it simply the desire to have someone he trusted warm his bed? You were uncertain, and you wanted clarification.

The groan of oak reverberated throughout the stone corridors as Cregan opened the door, standing there, tall and indomitable, a tunic clinging to his chest. You could see so much more of him without the chain-and-leather armor, without the obstruction of a thick hide cloak. His broad shoulders seemed to relax in your presence.

Gods, you looked beautiful — Cregan had seen you dressed up on a handful of occasions, but they all paled in comparison to how you looked now, clad in the pelts of wolves, visage free of dirt. His grip tightened along the edge of the door, an effort to restrain himself from devouring you then and there.

“May I?” You asked, wringing your hands together in order to alleviate some of the tension. Cregan stepped aside, stormy-gray hues transfixed upon you as you crossed the threshold into his chambers. Your heart hammered within your chest as he shut the door, crossing the room to tend to the fire.

“I must know what this is, before we go any further.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, strained and desperate for an answer. “What have years of friendship come to, in your mind?” The question was direct, demanding that he state his intentions.

Cregan appeared perplexed, stepping toward you with a hooded expression. “Was that kiss in the Wolfswood not clear enough, my Lady?” He rumbled, hooking an arm around your hips. “I am a man of honor, and I wouldn’t dare tarnish your own. I am still your friend,” Cregan uttered, reaching up to cup your face, “And I am your lover.”

“If I wanted you to tarnish my honor?” You murmured, watching his countenance contort into a look of desire, as if you were invoking a challenge. Heat radiated from him in waves, sinking into your bones, making residence there. He was comfortable, a mountain of a man who held you so gently.

A brief huff escaped him, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, yet it did not come to fruition. “I would do as my lady commands.” He grunted, pressing a kiss against your jaw. You tasted perfect, if that were even an accurate description.

His honeyed, husky words excited you — his commitment to you was laid bare before you, and you felt a familiar surge of arousal deep within your bones. “No one else?” Possessiveness swelled within you — you wanted Cregan for yourself. If this were to become something serious, you would make it clear.

“I am yours,” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together as he made his pledge to you. “And you are mine. I would not have it any other way.” He assured you, calloused hand kneading into the swell of your hip through the thick layer of fur that concealed your body. He wished to see it all for himself.

Your foreheads touched for a moment, and despite the charged, tenuous element of sexuality floating about, you quite enjoyed the tenderness of it. “I am yours, and you are mine.” The pledge was soft-spoken through you lips, prompting Cregan to press a kiss against the top of your head.

Without hesitation, your fingers curled into the coarse fabric of his tunic, gripping tightly as you pulled yourself up for a kiss, but Cregan met you halfway in a frenzy. His kiss was ravenous, filled with a rapturous hunger that did not appear subtle at all.

Gone was the chill of winter, replaced by the burning fire that smoldered between the both of you. He kissed you hard, teeth raking across your lower lip as he hauled you close, until there was no sliver of space left between. There was no shortage of desire or passion either, as Cregan’s hand pushed against the leather ties of your robe, wanting to feel your soft skin underneath.

“Cregan.” You exhaled, shivering when you heard that growl reverberate within his throat. Your hands joined him in their lascivious crusade, untethering the rough leather strings of your gown, loosening it up until it sagged upon your body. You nodded to him, a subtle signal that he could have whatever he wanted.

He pushed the thick material aside, watching as it fell around your feet, softly thudding against the stone. You wore nothing at all underneath, supple and beautiful, skin as soft as silk, all belonging to him. “Expecting something from me, were you?” Cregan murmured, pushing your tresses aside, exposing the expanse of your pretty neck to him.

A soft groan tore past your parted lips, belly filling with a fire that demanded to be extinguished. He pressed a hot trail of kisses along your face, starting there as he began to move downward. “Perhaps.” You huffed, listening to his chest vibrate with a brief bout of laughter. The sound was like music to your ears.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled his praises into your flesh like a prayer. His roughened palm moved to clasp against the nape of your neck, digits reaching for your hair as he brought his mouth to your jaw, teeth and lips working in-tandem.

Cregan shivered when your colder fingertips hitched beneath his tunic, feeling the thick, corded muscle of his torso, the few scars here and there. Your digits toyed with the leather waist of his trousers, skimming upward to flatten your palm against his abdomen.

You moaned when he bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark, but delicate enough not to break through your skin. He felt along the soft dips and bends of your curves, traveling wherever he pleased until he sank his hands sank your haunches, unable to keep from touching you.

Everything about you invited him in, intentionally or unintentionally. The scent of various herbs and perfumes clung to you, intertwined with that of leather. Each embrace of his mouth was purposeful, burying into the hollow between your shoulder and throat, seeking to make his mark, imprint himself upon you.

He moved enough for you to remove his tunic, assisting in maneuvering the garment off and away from his body. You let it drop to the floor, kicking aside your robes to form a growing pile of garments.

Cregan was perfect — a true Northman, with a hardened body to prove it. He was all thick muscle and strength, sturdy and broad-shouldered. It was refreshing to see a man that didn’t lack in fortitude, and you reached forward, caressing your fingers over the plane of his musculature. He shuddered at your embrace, lips parting slightly.

He kissed you again, devouring your mouth with an unrestrained desire. Even if lust had taken hold, Cregan preferred displays of rough passion instead, wanting to show you just how much you meant to him, the things you did.

A growl stirred within his chest, hands grabbing your hips as he steered you toward the furs in front of the hearth. You reached for his head, tugging on his chestnut tresses as you reciprocated each kiss with one of your own, one that echoed his own fervor.

“Lay down.” He rumbled, gaze simmering with ardor as he watched you descend onto the furs, pelts of direwolves that enveloped you perfectly. Cregan towered over you, lowering himself onto his knees as he pushed your legs aside, bullying himself between them.

You shivered when he kissed your collarbone, roughened palm kneading into the pliant flesh of your thigh. He wanted to savor all of you first, taste you upon his tongue, let your scent linger. Cregan’s mouth was domineering and rough, biting wherever he could, listening to your satisfied whimpers.

“I want to taste you.” Cregan murmured, his voice a husky timbre that sent shockwaves throughout your body, striking at the pit of your stomach. It filled you with a sense of desire, goosebumps cascading along your spine. His inquiry was masked as a statement, but he awaited your approval.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you nodded, feeling a lick of excitement trail down until it settled between your thighs. “Please.” It was all you really needed to say, your incendiary gaze alone inciting a rapturous hunger inside of him.

His descent was slow, ensuring that you felt every nip of his teeth, every kiss emblazoning itself upon your flesh. You sighed with passion, meeting his tempestuous, gray-eyed stare, one that smoldered with desire. You reached for his face, fingers sweeping around his jaw, and you watched as he kissed your palm.

The gesture was brief yet sweet, a break in the swelling tide of carnality and wanton need. Cregan pressed a kiss against your collarbone before he continued his downward venture, lips drifting over both of your breasts, hungrily making his mark against your sensitive skin.

A low grunt escaped him when your digits threaded themselves into his tresses instead, finding their purchase at the base of his skull. The warmth of his mouth drifted over your stomach, feeling Cregan bite at your hips, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. It drove him wild, the desire to claim you seeping into his bones.

Cregan wasn’t much of a talker during acts of sensuality — he preferred to show you through action, instead. When he made it to the apex of your thighs, he settled against the furs, orange firelight dancing across the taut, thick muscle of his shoulders. He pushed your legs apart, letting them rest across his back, rough hands kneading along your legs.

Your breath hitched within your throat, stomach churning with excitable butterflies and arousal. The slick warmth that had coagulated between your thighs was a welcome sight to Cregan, who felt a twinge of smugness knowing that you’d gotten wet already.

He listened to the tremor within your exhale, the squirming of your body atop the furs, the subtle twitch of your thigh when he bit into the sensitive flesh. You were endlessly soft — velveteen beneath his fingertips. The contrast between his rough palms and your smoothness was a perfect duality.

The gray intensity of his stare left you breathless, and he did not break eye contact as he kissed your slit, prompting you to shiver. His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, deliberate and intentional, driving you to an agonizing madness.

Cregan pulled you closer, a growl ringing within the depths of his throat as he sought your cunt, greedily lapping over your slit. He split past your folds, ravenous for whatever you would give him. It made you moan, hand gripping his hair, hips absentmindedly jolting into the vigor of his mouth.

He seemed so herculean, even now as he rested between your legs, broad shoulders etched with a slight tension. His brow was creased in concentration, a low hum escaping him as he devoured your cunt. Cregan did not have any qualms about staying there, head buried between your thighs.

That taut heat within your stomach had been wound so tight, like a coil threatening to snap in two. His mouth was voracious, lapping and kissing wherever he pleased, with the enthusiasm of a man starved. He was passionate and somewhat rough, occasionally turning to bite into the pliant flesh of your thighs.

“Cregan,” You moaned, writhing beneath him, feeling his strong hands clamp down upon your legs, locking you into place. It was pure bliss and agony all rolled into one, your other hand fisting the thick furs beneath you. “Don’t stop,” A whine tore past your mouth, with the wolf more than willing to oblige. “Don’t stop.”

A huff escaped him, one that filled his belly with a raging fire. His cock throbbed within his leather breeches, aching with want for you. He wasn’t about to let you buck and move at your leisure — he wanted you all to himself. His tongue continued to lap at your cunt with heavy strokes, stoking the flame of your arousal.

You tasted sweet upon his tongue, honey-thick and a feast to sate his appetite. If he would choose his fate, it would be in between your legs, listening to the myriad of moans and throaty whimpers leave you. It was satisfying to know how much you enjoyed this; derived pleasure from it.

A tremor gripped your legs, little spasms of delight making their way throughout your body. Cregan’s mouth forged a blazing path from the hood of your cunt to your entrance, tongue greedy and hot, before he went back up again.

The sound of your soft, pleading voice calling his name made him grunt, digits digging into your thighs, hard enough to leave faint bruises. You enjoyed the display of strength, his desire to mark you, claim you for his own. The wolf festered within him, and you were prepared to submit to him.

Cregan was stoic and dominant, yet those storm-colored hues softened whenever they flickered toward your visage, the image of grace and beauty. You had always been pretty, yet your perfection reared its head fully when you opened yourself up to him. He was enthralled, reduced to a mere pup in your presence.

His mouth pursed around the pearl of your cunt, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. You gasped, the sensation sudden yet blissful, causing your thighs to squeeze his head slightly. Cregan grunted, forcing you apart again, nose grazing your folds.

The growing shadow of his coarse beard scratched against your thighs, providing you with a brief sting — a delicious sting, at that. You had often teased Cregan for being baby-faced, but he had elected to grow out a bit of scruff, and for that, you were grateful.

He wanted to stay there, rooted between your legs, mouth consuming your cunt as if it were his last meal. Cregan favored it, thoroughly reveling in the way your body reacted to him, visceral and ecstatic. He gingerly suckled on your clit, feeling your fingers tighten within his chestnut locks, grip him tight.

The warmth from the hearth danced across your body, illuminating your soft curves and silky skin. Inklings of perspiration began to shimmer against your chest, the fire’s intensity combined with Cregan’s constant body heat. He ran hot, hot-blooded like any Northerner.

His mouth didn’t relent, continuing to suck and kiss at your clit, tongue flicking against your slick entrance. He let one hand drop from your thigh, yet the other still kept you pinned into place. The first stroke of his thick digits against your core made your head spin in a delirium of desire.

Your hips lurched forward, attempting to gain any shred of friction, despite Cregan keeping you locked into place. You felt as if you were going to explode, seeing stars within your vision as his teeth grazed your clit. The sudden sensation made you shiver, hand fisting into his hair.

Cregan teased your entrance, searching your face for any signs of discomfort as his digits worked their way inside of you. You were tight, slick and warm around him as he sluggishly pumped them in and out of you. “That’s it,” He rumbled, grunting when you pulled on his tresses again. “Easy, my lady.” His tone held a playful remnant to it.

A brief huff escaped you, one of mild amusement. The sweetness that ebbed between the both of you soon dissipated into an air of seriousness once again, with Cregan tormenting you, mouth on your clit. He drew each sound out of you with a vengeance, feeling your legs tremble on either side of him.

A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, intermingled with the sounds of your pleasured cries and Cregan’s sonorous grunts. That heated coil within your stomach began to unfurl, bringing an onslaught of arousal with it as you bucked into his mouth.

“Cregan,” You moaned, grabbing his hair so tightly that you feared you might rip it from his scalp. The roughness of it only spurred him on, enjoying your ironclad grasp as he assailed your cunt with careful laps and thrusts of his fingers. “Gods, I’m close!” You huffed, back arching off of the furs.

He wanted to do it to you again — again and again, make your body submit to him. Lust and passion swelled within him, blossoming through his chest, coupled with the possessiveness he felt over you. You belonged to him, now — his Lady of Winterfell, his.

Cregan didn’t intensify his pace or slow down, and instead, continued his ministrations with a sense of fervor and duty. His fingers and mouth worked in a blissful tandem, nose occasionally bumping into the hood of your clit, tongue dancing across your slit. He felt you shudder beneath him.

A flood of sheer ecstasy consumed you, flesh prickling with an overwhelming warmth as you shivered, reaching your climax in a white-hot crescendo. Your back arched completely, head tossed back against the furs, hands wrangling with Cregan’s tresses.

The buzz you felt afterwards was a pleasant feeling, and as you rode out your peak, you sank back into the mounds of wolf’s fur beneath you. Your grip began to slack on Cregan, enough for him to lift his head, gaze hooded and affectionate.

He pressed a series of sweet kisses along the inside of your thigh, reaching up to the bend of your knee. Perspiration glittered along his temples, but he was far from over — his hunger still prevailed. “You’ve got a grip like steel.” He grunted, moving forward to rest his head against your stomach.

A brazen, lascivious thought passed through him — your belly swollen with his child, an heir to Winterfell, a child of House Stark. It was reckless and wild to think of something so bold, but he couldn’t get it out of his head.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, somewhat flustered at your capability to nearly rip Cregan’s tresses right from their roots. He shook his head, his steely-eyed gaze flickering toward you. “I was quite consumed by the moment.” You confessed.

Cregan crawled forward, pressing a kiss against your mouth. You could taste yourself upon his tongue, evoking a whimper from between your lips. “Never apologize.” He rumbled, briefly nudging his forehead against yours. You observed him in silence, gaze swimming with affection as he rolled off of you.

He immediately stooped down to scoop you right off of the furs, hooking his bulky arms underneath you. You laughed, palms flat against the warm expanse of his chest, foreheads pressed together yet again. You didn’t need to say anything — you knew what came next.

Cregan gently deposited you onto his bed, his shadow eclipsing the glow of the firelight. He seemed massive at this angle, but his gentleness was notable with how he handled you. He unlaced the leather ties of his breeches, stepping out of them.

You happened to swallow at the sight of him — a mountain of a man, truly. A pang of nervousness struck at your gut, afraid that he wouldn’t fully fit inside of you, but it was fleeting. You knew that he would make sure that you were comfortable above all else.

His countenance, often laced with an unapproachable stoicism, softened at the sight of you — it wasn’t something commonplace. You had certainly eased the tension, his shoulders no longer weighted with stress or the burden of leadership.

A brief ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth — if you blinked, you might’ve missed it. “Are you smiling?” You whispered, doe-eyed and enamored with your Northman. Your hands trailed across the honed muscle of his shoulders, nails tracing across his back, and then to his chest.

Admittedly, it was difficult to keep a stony face around you, especially now, with your vibrant, exuberant smile and smitten gaze. Though, in the spirit of playfulness, he let out a rumbling hum, joining you atop his bed. The frame beneath groaned slightly in protest. “Perhaps.” He murmured.

He covered you with his burly physique, chestnut tresses framing his face, gray eyes drinking you in with a hint of tenderness. For as rough and rugged as he could be, Cregan became gentler for you — it wasn’t something he was used to.

Chest to chest, you craned forward, lips seeking his own as you kissed him. It was sickly-sweet, as gentle as a maiden, and Cregan found himself wanting you all over again. A low grunt of approval emerged from his throat, brows furrowing together as he reciprocated.

You reached for his bicep, palm unable to grip around the bulk of his muscle. It made you realize how much smaller you really were than him, in all senses of the word — stature and muscle mass. He had all the advantages on you, but you quite enjoyed the amusing contrast of sizes.

To Cregan, it thoroughly aroused him, seeing your silky digits attempt to wrap around his arm, only to fail miserably. He treated you like a prized jewel, afraid to harm you, afraid to drop you — it made his cock twitch against your thigh, and he heard the hitch within your throat.

“I’ll be gentle.” Cregan assured you, calloused palm gliding along the length of your thigh in an attempt to ease your worrying. You feared that he would split you in half with his cock — not that it was a terrible way to go, but you did want to walk on the morrow.

He lowered his head to your chest, peppering kisses all along your breasts and collarbone, the ridge of his nose brushing over your sternum. The tip of his hardened length slid across your slick entrance, prompting you to shiver with anticipation.

With a shove of his hips, the head of his cock pushed into your cunt, his girth and size something you needed to adjust to. A strangled whine left you, lips agape and slack, hands clawing at his biceps as he gingerly made his way inside of you, inch by agonizing inch.

The discomforting pang of being stretched made your body crawl, attempting to get comfortable beneath him. Cregan noticed the twinge of pain that fluttered across your countenance, and he soothed you with a kiss against your brow, palm still caressing your thigh.

It felt incredible — certainly an adjustment, but pleasurable nonetheless. The girth of his cock filled you completely in ways you hadn’t felt before, and you knew that he would be the only one you would ever want. Discomfort inevitably dissipated into bliss as Cregan gave you time to grow used to him.

“Need you to move,” You whimpered, noticing the fire burning within his eyes, like smoldering embers come to life. Those stormy-gray hues drank you in with the hunger of a starving wolf, and he moved your back up enough to place a feather pillow beneath your hips. “Cregan.”

The newfound angle made you reel from ecstasy, feeling the way in which his cock hit that spot of pleasure for you. He shuddered when you moaned his name, and it activated something salacious inside of him. He thought of you, the Lady of Winterfell, Lady Stark, full and round with his child, his heir.

He moved, then.

His hips snapped forward as he attempted to restrain himself from fucking you into a stupor, executing a great amount of gentleness, fueled with an amorous intensity. Cregan was passionate, cock rutting into you, hitting new depths as he began to show you just how much he wanted you.

A grunt left him when your knees bumped into his hips, occasionally squeezing him like a vice, but the bulk of his musculature kept you properly spread apart. Your mouth clamored for his, lips meeting in a tangle of tongue and teeth. Your nails dug into the thick muscle of his bicep, other hand reaching for the nape of his neck.

You felt him reach for your hand, roughened digits intertwining with yours as he placed it beside your head, pounding into you with a gentle fervor. Cregan was tempered and measured about his movements, sheathing his cock inside of you fully with each thrust.

A myriad of needy moans and whimpers left you, and you did little to conceal the height of their volume. You groaned into Cregan’s mouth when he snapped forward again, and you felt as if he might break you in half — in the best way possible, of course.

His cock was akin to the force of a battering ram in slow motion, ensuring that every thrust drove you to madness, your walls tight around him. The friction between your bodies only contributed to the tension, your chest snug against his, lips tangled together, his roughened digits groping at your thigh.

Your nails raked faint trails of red across the thick muscle of his bicep, prompting him to growl into your mouth, kissing you as if it would be his very last time. There was a subtle desperation to Cregan, coupled with that innate instinct to breed, fill you with his seed and let you carry his child.

The Northern winds began to howl outside, bringing with it an onslaught of snow, and yet you had never been warmer, happily trapped beneath the herculean mass of Cregan Stark. Your foreheads touched on occasion, each kiss building with want until it had exploded into something hot and messy.

Perspiration lingered upon both of your bodies, as his chambers became increasingly hot, like that of a fever pitch. Cregan used some of his body as leverage, pushing himself inside of you again, cock sheathed within you completely until he pulled back, and thrust again. The action became increasingly intense, yet he kept himself in-check.

Your body was perfect, a sight for him alone, made by the Old Gods — he couldn’t thank them enough. Cregan gave you another blistering kiss, letting you linger upon his tongue before he withdrew, mouth lowering towards your chest once more. He was hellbent on pleasing you while chasing after his own release.

As he took one of your breasts into his maw, he felt the sly return of your digits tangling within his hair, and he couldn’t help but briefly smirk into your flesh. He reveled in the way you manhandled him so brazenly, gripping him tightly as your leg hitched around his hips.

Cregan didn’t relent, cock driving into you with a needy force, aching and throbbing inside of you. Your thighs twitched and trembled, and he continued to trace his hand across it before grabbing at your haunch, pliant flesh filling his palm.

Grunts and low rumbles escaped him, colliding with your own symphony of moans and whimpers, desperate for him to come undone. You rolled your hips forward whenever you could, friction creating another delicious wave of heat between the both of you.

He gently bit at your chest, face nestled there as his pace became a touch quicker, cock battering into you, kissing your slick cunt over and over again. Those tantalizing fantasties of filling you with his seed tormented him, driving him into a frenzy.

He hit that spot between your legs that seemed to make you writhe, grabbing at his chestnut tresses, back arching slightly as he turned your senses into mush. Cregan groaned, the sound heavy and husky in your ear as he came, spilling himself deep inside of you. He continued to thrust into you afterwards, the motions considerably softer and less invigorated.

A huff escaped him, a quick breath to regain his composure. His stamina was rather impressive, and if you asked it of him, he would’ve continued on well into the night, but your countenance seemed etched with mild exhaustion.

You whimpered when he stayed inside of you, head bowing towards yours as he pressed a kiss against your forehead, and then to your lips. The gesture was inherently tender despite his rough demeanor, enough for you to loosely drape your arms around his shoulders.

Cregan rolled over to lay next to you, his large form taking up a sizable portion of his bed. He coaxed you close, thick arm snaking around you as he tugged you into the warm expanse of his chest, propped up against the pillows.

The silence was a comforting one, a blissful aftermath of affectionate sentiments and declarations of adoration. He made sure that you were comfortable, shrouding you in the blanket of wolf pelts, showering you in gentle kisses. His grasp was inherently protective, as if he were shielding you from some invisible force.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” Cregan uttered, checking to see if you were unwell. He sometimes got carried away in the moment, and you weren’t exactly tall and stocky like himself. He needed to accommodate you, and that sometimes included being gentler.

With a smitten smile, you nodded, peering up at him through your lashes. Your thighs continued to scream with a dull ache, cunt throbbing and sticky with his seed and your arousal. “Very much so.” You replied, head resting atop his chest as you traced patterns against his abdomen. “If I weren’t so spent, I would ask you to do it again.”

A brief huff of amusement left Cregan, who held you close, reaching for your hand as he cradled it within his own, his other hand firmly situated atop the swell of your hip. “I cannot promise that I would not ravage you the second the opportunity arose.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“If that’s what I wanted?” You challenged, noticing the way his expression contorted into a look of desire, but above all, pure devotion. Cregan enjoyed your flirtatious remarks and subtle challenges, chest vibrating with a hum of approval.

“Then you are in for a long night, Lady Stark.”

#house of the dragon #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #hotd x reader #cregan stark #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon smut #cregan x reader #hotd fanfiction

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luvvyouforever · 7 months ago

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Hello, could I request Stardew Valley Sam relationship headcanons with a female reader? Sfw and nsfw, please and thank you!

absolutely! <3

sdv sam boyfriend headcanons ౨ৎ

content: fluff, cheesy things, nicknames, cuddling, overstimulation, dom/sub mention, nudes, praise, fantasies. author's note: i've never actually romanced or married sam in sdv but i did research for this so i hope it's somewhat accurate hehe

sfw:

-loves doing cheesy stuff with you! like if you see any internet couple trend you wanna do, he would jump at the opportunity to do with you!! is just totally not afraid to show his love for you, even if it can be a little corny at times.

-he probably calls you "babe" and "baby" a lot! they're easy pet names that roll of his tongue easily. tbh, he probably uses them more than your actual name! if he's addressing you all flirtatiously, he uses "cutie." i think he also likes coming up with a very special nickname for you that comes from an inside joke.

-will totally write and dedicate songs to you, are you kidding me?? and oh my god he's so cute and cheesy with it too. like, when you guys have just started to flirt and get closer to each other, you're hanging out at sunset on the pier or he's watching you excitedly play video games on his bedroom floor and he looks at you all puppy-eyed and says, "i could write a song about you." and it becomes a phrase he uses for those extra special moments in life.

-loves watching you support him and his band. seeks you out in the crowd, points to you, and makes eye contact with you through the whole show. pleaseee make a t-shirt with the band name on it and wear it around him. he's never been more in love.

-when he's working at joja, he's totally the kind to have you come over and just hang around him while he's at work. does morris find it incredibly annoying that the farmer trying to put him out of business is distracting one of his only workers? yes, but are you gonna stop? no, your bf needs company!

-speaking of keeping him company, his love language is def quality time. feels so loved when you just want to spend time with him, regardless of what you're doing. he's so happy just to have you in his room while he's playing games or playing the guitar and you can work on whatever you'd like! just loves your presence and really values it.

-would also be incredibly happy if you got along with abigail and sebastian. those are his best friends and bandmates! he invites you to their practices and hang outs and he feels his heart grow a little wider when you're laughing with everyone like you've been there the whole time.

-likes doing things around the farm with you! he might not be the best at some of the chores (aka he once pulled up an entire patch of carrots thinking they were ready to be harvested...they were not), but he's gonna offer to help anyway! maybe give him the job of petting all your cows and pigs and chickens, or collecting the honey from your beehives.

-learns your favorite song on guitar and plays it for you when you've been having a bad day. he's so sweet.

-is such a cuddle bug. before he moves into the farmhouse, he always sadly leaves you at night and looks back at you with a pout on his face the whole walk home. you laugh at his antics from the porch, but really, you get the best sleep when you both are a tangled mess of limbs with the blankets folded beyond recognition.

-he is such a typical skater bf. tries to teach you to skateboard and holds your arms really steady as he pulls you along the sidewalk outside of his house. he's so encouraging and keeps telling you, "look! you're doing it! you're doing so good!" if you fell, he would ask if you're okay and if there's no injuries, he will let out a little giggle.

-he really wants to support you when you go into the mines. even goes as far as offering to come with you! he lasts through the slimes and the flying bug things, but the minute he sees the ghosts and the skeletons and the golems, he's finding the next elevator and leaving immediately. shouts "you got this babe!" from the top of the cave.

-loves putting you in and see you in his clothes. if it's cold, he likes wrapping you up in his jacket. if you're sleeping over, will not hesitate to offer one of his shirts to wear. if you're in the saloon watching him play pool, he offers you his denim jacket to wear. it's not really a possessive thing, but more so a "ohmygodyoulooksocute" thing.

-gets cuteness aggression with you, tbh. like when you've woken up in the morning engulfed in oversized hoodies and sweatpants with a tired pout on your lips, he just wants to bite you and squeeze you.

-forgets everything. poor baby. like his memory is just awful and he won't forget the chords to your favorite song or how to do a trick on the skateboard that impressed you early on, but he will forget to set out food to thaw for dinner and he will forget to put the newest batches of wine into the shipping box.

-really finds your connection with his family to be incredibly important. like he would be okay if you didn't click well with his friends, but if you weren't playing with vincent on the living room floor or helping jodi wash the dishes after dinner, he would be a little more than turned off.

-if you're the type of person to mess with lewis and steal his purple shorts and use them in every event, he's right behind you. giggles when the only thing you've brought for the showcase is his shorts and even stalls him while you place them in the box. loves getting all the town gossip from you too!

-sam just really wants to be with someone who appreciates his presence, who is willing to be a part of his life, and someone he can have a lot of fun with. he just loves loving you and he makes sure you know that too.

nsfw:

-i don't think sam's got a lot of experience tbh. i don't think he's entirely new to the concept of sex, as in i don't think he's a virgin, but he's just on the younger side in a small town where everybody knows everybody!

-that's not to say that he doesn't know what he's doing with you. in a more modern stardew valley world, he's likely consumed at least some kind of pornography (probably in normal sdv too, idk what they get up to at nightime), and also knows what gets him going.

-he's also a quick learner and adaptable. if you don't like something he's doing, he wants you to guide him to where you want him. once you've taught it to him once, it becomes second nature after that.

-is really allllll about pleasure during sex. he can't really put up with teasing or edging too long because damn it, let the man make you feel good! would much prefer to overstimulate both you and himself than deny both of your pleasures.

-in fact, he actually thinks overstimulation is hot both for you and him. you'd have to tug him off of you because he just never wants you to stop feeling good. he thinks seeing your scrunched up face and hearing your intense moans is soooo hot. as for him, he loves when you keep touching him even after he's came. whether it's with your hand or mouth or pussy, he doesn't care. he loves the way it feels.

-is such a sucker for lingerie. when he's not with you in bed and really needs to jerk off, he imagines stripping you down, starting with your pants, then moving to his band t-shirt that he throws to the side, revealing the prettiest, lacy set underneath that makes his mouth water.

-definitely fucks to music and even makes a CD to play while you guys are having sex. it's a combination of songs he loves, songs that fit the mood, and songs you love. he just likes having the background noise accompanying your moans.

-can really either be more dominant or more submissive. i see him as a very sweet, soft dom though. he's calling you all kinds of cute names and adorning your body with a billion kisses and encouraging you to cum for him or to cum another time and then he's caressing your body really gently while he slides in. as for being submissive, he just thinks there's something so hot about a strong woman taking lead. he'll listen to you like a puppy and thrives on praise.

-speaking of praise, the man lives and breathes it. tell him how good he's doing, let him know that you're feeling fucking amazing. in turn, he'll spill compliment after compliment, so many, in fact, that you have to tell him to hush.

-kinda thinks the thrill of you and him fucking in his bedroom is so hot. it's late at night, the rest of the house is definitely asleep, but you're giggling and sneaking in through the window and kissing him so his moans are subdued.

-i think sam really needs to be with someone who thinks hands/fingers are hot, can i say that? like the man plays guitar so his fingers are long and slender and i feel like he's got these nice veins that pop out when he plays, and he blushes when you can't stop staring at them, imagining all the things those hands could be doing right then.

-regardless of whether he's feeling more dominant or submissive, he's so incredibly needy. when he's in the mood, he's touching you all over from the minute the both of you are home to the minute you fall asleep after having sex. he's whispering pleases and giving you these big puppy dog eyes. he's all pouty when you have to get him to stop touching you, like when he's at work or when you're at the saloon.

-if you imagine a modern sdv with phones, he's such a sucker for nudes. before he moves in, when you're in separate bedrooms, you'll surprise him with a pic of you in his t-shirt lifted up to show what's underneath. he responds within seconds, telling you how pretty you are. it just grows from there. he's soooo the kind of guy to send you videos of him touching himself. and cumming too.

-really loves you riding him i think. he's a boob guy and likes having them right there in front of his face. he's running his hands all over you and groping you and throwing his head into your chest. i think he's also down to try 69ing. both of you get pleasure while also giving pleasure??? he's all for it.

-before you actually make a move and have sex with him, he's all about sloppy makeouts in his bed. you've snuck into his room after jodi went to bed and he has you perched in his lap, making out to some kind of soft rock music.

-is such a sucker for hickies too. while he does try to hide them the day after, he just love seeing your handiwork in the mirror the morning after. he gets needy again seeing the huge purple and red splotches on his neck and touches them while reminding himself how he got them. would send you a picture too with a winky face and a cheeky comment hehe.

-i think he has a lot of fantasies in his head. like he adores you for how you are, but when he's by himself, he's imagining these scenarios like rockstar x fan backstage or, dare i say, professor x student (w you as the professor of course). he'll be so ashamed to admit these out loud, but once you encourage him enough, he gets so excited and makes it an entire production.

hope you enjoyed! (i might need to romance sam on my next farm)

#stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley smut #stardew valley sam #sdv sam #sam sdv #sdv sam smut #sdv sam x reader #sam x reader #sam sdv x reader #sam headcanons #sdv sam headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley x reader

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xiepheer · 4 months ago

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can you do one where shadow milk let Truthless recluses wife (reader) stay in the spire with him, cause idk he's trying to be a somewhat good boss, and its just basically a fic (or headcannons if that's what you'd prefer) about Truthless recluse with his wife, while Shadow Milk si tryna hype him up like

TR: ....(just resting his head on readers shoulder cause he's depressed or whatever)

SM: Awwww! Truthy reclusy seems to like you Mrs reader BAHHAHSHAHH! TR: ....shes my wife.... SM: I-... (starts thinking before doin a young Sheldon eureka moment) awww! didn't think we had a Mrs and Mr on our hands! black saphire cookie better get his radio started cause I think we have the cutest couple!

The Truth and his Light

Truthless Recluse x Wife reader

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait! I've been quite busy lately so I haven't written!

Anyways thank you guys so much for the support!

I love yall!

You're Pure Vanilla cookie's dear sweet wife.

And even though he had forbid you to go with them to beast yeast, you insisted and went anyways.

"Oh you know how dangerous this could be! I do wish you could've stayed in the Vanilla Kingdom dearest..." he spoke. His voice filled with worry as you and Gingerbraves team walked through the forests of Beast Yeast.

"It's okay honey. You do need company and I can help you too yknow?" you spoke, holding his hand gently and squeezing gently to reassure him.

Pure Vanilla cookie just nodded, the worry still visible in his face. He feels something is off walking in Beast Yeast.

As you all walked, soon enough, you were getting lead to the Spire Tower (I forgot what it's called) where you met the beast cookie, Shadow Milk cookie.

The original holder of his soul jam.

There you had to watch so many thing happen but mainly, watch your dearest husband turn into a cookie you've never thought he will ever be.

Turning into Truthless Recluse, turning into a cookie that devoid of anything.

But you stayed by his side. Always.

And Shadow Milk cookie noticed that you two would be often stuck to each other.

Now of course, Truthless Recluse still remembers that you're his wife and he doesn't deny it.

"Awwwe do we have a new pair here?" said by Shadow Milk cookie himself with a teasing voice.

Truthless Recluse just furrowed his eyebrows and stated at him as he pulls you closer.

"She's my wife..." Truthless Recluse spoke. His eyebrows still furrowed as he stared at the clown in front of him.

"OOOOH HOHOHO WE'VE GOT A COUPLE IN OUR HANDS!" Shadow Milk cookie yelled out loud.

"Ahehehe! You never told the audience that you're couples! We'll now since they know, APPLAUSE APPLAUSE to our contestant, Silly Vanilly!" Shadow Milk cookie yelled out again.

"Shut up..." Truthless Recluse spoke with an annoyed tone. He was clearly done with Shadow Milk cookie's shenanigans.

And you just laughed along softly as you massaged his hand to clam him down from crashing out again.

Shadow milk cookie DID NOT stop teasing you two and did NOT stop following you two all day.

24/7 he'd be there to tease you even in your sleep.

You two would be cuddling when he interrupts your sweet cuddling session.

But you two learned to eventually ignore him until Gingerbraves team arrives.

Hello everyone! Sorry if its short but I do hope you guys enjoyed it!

I skipped almost all the eps of PV and SMCs eps SO SORRY but I'm omw to finishing it rnn so I'm very sorry that I don't know or my writing is confusing.

Anyways I love you guys!

#beast cookies #cookie run fandom #cookie run kingdom #beast cookies x reader #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk crk #pure vanilla x reader #pure vanilla crk #pure vanilla cookie #truthless recluse

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mari-lair · 5 months ago

Text

Let's talk about Nene and how she find power in other people.

Nene gets overwhelmed easily and is very insecure, not just about her body but about her power, and smarts too.

When she thought Hanako may like her she wasn't sure about her judgement, but when Aoi who never even met hanako said 'oh yeah, he likes you~' she became far more confident.

Aoi must have been her reassurance for most of Nene's school life, so much so that when Aoi tells her "he might confess to you in the confession tree <3" Nene acts like that's the truth and spend the rest of the chapter giggily waiting for it.

She is right that Hanako have a crush on her, but when he start hiding behind excuses, she believes it right away. She never consider that his excuses and his feelings can both be true, she trust what he says more than her own judgement

When she started getting involved with the supernatural she start getting more and more doubts about herself. Her issues growing from the simple 'do they find me cute? can i get a boyfriend?' to questions about what is right and how much power she have.

She have a crisis when she learns Hanako used to be a living student, with a real life, who killed a real person. She become so helpless by this realization that she can't look at him in the eye.

Reality is so overwhelming, that she keep running away from Hanako.

There is no "Hanako is my friend anyways! His life doesn't matter what matter is the now!! Let's gooo!!" self talk in the garden. She want to hide. To give up.

Kou is the one that come to her side and reassure Nene that her feelings are valid, that not knowing what to is alright. That there is nothing wrong with being overwhelmed and doing all you can do, even when 'all you can do' isn't much.

They find strenght in each other.

Throught the entire manga Kou is there to cheer Nene up or to back up her plans. They are in this together.

Break the fake world? Rescue Hanako? Go to the Red House cause a kid is crying?? That's a Nene and Kou plan. That's their team effort. They got each other's back! They can do it!

Even when the idea isn't that good, Kou constantly cheer her, rewarding Nene for trying instead of giving up.

Most of the time Hanako is with Kou cheering her up, albeit not as upfront, being his indirect and 'haha just kidding i would die if i was vulnerable!' self.

Regardless, Nene got support through every step of this new and scary supernatural world!

Or at least... most of the time. Let's go over the instances where times were tough and Nene didn't have Kou and Hanako by her side. The times when she become her most vulnerable and insecure. She ceases to be "Your overwhelming grass type and beloved heroine Yashiro Nene!" and becomes Nene, the insecure high school girl.

When she learned about her death she was lost and confused, she didn't try to imply she could conquer death, she couldn't do anythnig, so she asked for guidance.

When she was given no real answer, just cryptic orders to stay in her caje forever cause hanako will 'solve everything', Nene was even more lost. And she was alone. No one to talk to in her time of need, no one to cheer her up.

We have no panels of her trying to break her window of wiggle between her caje bars because she isn't determined, she was devastated. So she cried and cried and tried to comfort herself

ONLY AFTER who knows how many doodles and time to process her feelings does her hopelessness turn into anger for Hanako and determination to change her situation.

She only fully enter "I will fight this! I can do it!! I won't do what Hanako want!!" mode after Mei visits her with a friendly dispossition and comforts her, giving her sweets to soothe her heart and give her energy.

Nene say her tears are false here, a mere ploy to make Mei lower her guard!! But it is rotted in real sadness.

The fire she gained after doodling her friends in the real world only spread into an inferno of determination when she is told she is deeply loved, that Hanako would sacrifice everything for her sake. That love is why this was made in the first place.

This world want to protect her, not kill her. Her hapiness is cheerished. And she isn't happy. She haven't loss the real world yet, she can still change things.

She was already determined to change things, but she doubles down on it, she gain more confidence and becomes bolder. She will kick and scream and try her best to win! Is amazing. She is sweating but she know what she is doing is right so she will do it!!

Throught the manga, as the time passes she start to stand up for herself more, she tries harder, she takes any opportunity she can to do something and believe in herself. She stop seeking superficial attention to feel worth.

Take her play of Oz for exemple, she want to be dorothy, the big role that is worthy of a beautiful dress and all the spotlight! Despite all her development and traumas she still cares that she was given a unimpressed role, that she 'isn't worthy' of the main role

But instead of being unable to focus on anything else except how bad her role is and how uncute it makes her, as the Nene from the start of the manga would, she get the strenght to move pass it and have fun, keeping her head high because she won't be alone.

Hanako will be there for her.

Hanako is one of her biggest strenghts, and when he is gone she is hit hard.

Her first instinct is to seek someone to talk too.

And when she can't, she falls. There is nothing she can do, her friends are already dead, and just like her own death, she doesn't know how to solve it.

Even when she feels better, going out to the arcade instead of being trapped alone in her room, the moment she remembers that she can't talk to her friends, that they are gone, she relapses again, sapped of all of her strenght.

She is 15, she can't handle this.

Her major sorces of comfort is still her close friends, which is normal, but she does gain strenght from other people.

Enters Teru and Akane.

Akane is one of the characters that push her to act when things are at their most hopeless, but unlike Kou and Aoi he isn't her cheerleader, he never coddles her. If she ask for reassurance that she is beautiful, or useful, or doing the right thing, he will either not give her that or straight up say "I dissagree".

Akane is not a source of hope for Nene, his belief in her is not nearly as strong as Kous or Hanako or Aoi's belief in her. Just as Nene's believe in herself isn't very strong in hopeless situations.

He never sugarcoats tragedy, in fact he consistently drag her back to how bleak things are. Ignore the arcade, don't distract yourself: Face reality.

He is open about his misery.

It mostly feel like he is processing his own feelings when he rants to Nene, but the end message is clear "I hate this, i want to try to change it. You want to, don't you?" which is exactly how Nene feels.

They are hopeless but they're not alone in this hopelessness. Despite Nene never working up with Akane during the rescue arc. This served as a reality check, which serves to process her feelings better.

Reality does sucks, there is no clear solution, she is unhappy, she does want to change things, she hates crying and being helpless while her friends are dead/suffering. So she eat a sugary sweet to comfort herself and she chin up.

Akane never says "you can do it, you are stronger than you think!" he sucks at comforting, I love him but oh god he sucks. But the message he gives her is till important "You have to do it." "You have to try anyways or you'll stay helpless."

Teru is the savior, Nene already idolized him from the start, but he is the one that showed them a way to rescue Aoi too. He is amazing. He can do the impossible!

Now let's jump to the new timeline.

Kou, her buddy, her biggest cheerleader, doesn't know her. It hit hards and she was so so happy to have him back!!

But just as quickly as she gets to see her buddy, Kou is gone, this is just a shell trying to lure her to death, the real one is dead at the bottom of a wheel.

She doesn't have the time to process that, because Hanako, her big source of comfort, doesn't exist. Amane, who she had watched be brutally slashed by Teru, have been possessed and wants to kill her and all her friends instead of protecting her.

Teru, this invincible guy (Nene wasn't present when No.6 took Teru down, so for her he is unbeatable) that made saving Aoi possible, is the first one down.

Everyone is doing what they can, so Nene does too, she want to help her friends, she can't let them be in danger! While Aoi takes charge, she doesn't allow herself to be too shocked and focus on destroying the tentacle attacking Akane.

But she is still terrified.

The last thing she want to do is to be alone. But she have too. Once more, Akane doesn't sugarcoat the situation, he says "This reality, it sucks, and if you want to change it, you have to act! Go!"

But this time he is left behind too. Nene is completely and utterly alone.

She has the weight of the world on her shoulders as she run through the city for who knows how long, but she is terrified and she doesn't have Akane to be terrified with her, just the weight of his words and the faint hope that they'll meet her in the big clock to keep her going.

She is doing something so so big, she need to talk to someone first, she need strenght. She need people.

So she seek them. And no one answers.

She crumbles, she becomes small. There is no heroine to be seem, just a teen girl in shambles after losing every. single. person that used to give her strenght.

That's why Tsuchigomori was needed.

Let her cry. Let her process the situation with a comforting sweet to gather the strenght to do what she must.

#yashiro nene #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #tbhk #tbhk spoilers #aoi akane #akane aoi #aaaah i am not that confident in this analysis but i had to say something #kou minamoto #minamoto teru #hanako #nene yashiro

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chickadeethoughts · 2 months ago

Text

reread this post and maybe this is an unpopular mclennon opinion? but i think they both didn't actually understand each other as well as they thought they did. i think both of them believed the other could read their mind and then filtered their subsequent actions as a conscious slight. like. john should know that paul is someone who keeps his feelings very closely guarded, who will always choose to keep the peace and to put on a good face when he's upset. but throughout the breakup, when paul seemingly stays as productive as ever, staying distantly polite to yoko while urging john to keep writing, keep beatling, everything's fine, time to put on a show, john takes it that paul doesn't care one way or another about their partnership dissolving, he's a perfectly capable one-man band hit machine anyway. this is seemingly confirmed by paul announcing the breakup to "sell a record," effectively ending all hope of quietly reconciling and supporting john's theory that paul was done with the beatles (john) anyway and had been on his way out once he learned he could write a #1 song without anyone's (john's) help. all he cares about is hits and money and his new perfect family and farm.

meanwhile. paul should know that john wasn't handling the pressures of the beatles well. he should know that he needed more support. but paul seems to be someone who gets stuck in his ways of thinking about people (see also: george), and doesn't seem to have ever shaken the image of john as the older, cooler teddy boy on the bus who he'd do anything to impress. he thinks the world of john and spends the 60s thinking they're in a friendly competition, not realizing john has started falling into the paranoia that he's losing. you can see it in get back. paul is waiting for john to write his next great song, to set a new bar for paul to push himself to reach. paul got john by impressing him with his music and when he's losing john he doubles down on it because he thinks that's the only valuable thing he has to offer. he might have offered the support john needed instead if he knew what that was, but he didn't. but mid-60s john, who still thinks paul understands him, thinks paul knows he needs him but chooses to spend his time flitting around swinging london instead, which deeply hurts him. john clings to yoko because she's a breath of fresh air from the constant race he's been running for a decade. a creative partner he doesn't have to chase down. someone who needs him as much as he needs her. a woman he can marry, can have a real commitment to. he can be everything to the person who is everything to him. but paul sees this as john finally outgrowing him and finding someone better.

paul also should know that john often speaks first and decides whether he believes what he said later. but it seems he only ever takes john at his word. when john leaves the beatles that's it, no negotiation, because if paul has lost john to someone more interesting, more artistic, then that's that. when john starts to talk publicly about paul's muzak and granny shit that must be true too, it's why john left after all. and granted john just wont stop shit talking him and it's not like he just fell on a keyboard and how do you sleep came out. but this is how you get a paul who starts to see himself as a villain and questions whether john did love him. he doesn't think too many people was that nasty compared to what john was saying about him in interviews because he doesn't realize that one of john's biggest fears is that he's incapable of being a great songwriter without paul. so to john, the lucky break line is paul admitting he agrees with that assessment and twisting the knife. but paul wouldn't see it that way because he's only ever had john on a pedestal.

so by the 70s, on their worst days, john thinks paul is cold marble statue who knows he's better than him and delights in it and paul thinks john is entirely out of love or use for him, if he ever had it in the first place. and of course, they could never talk about any of this openly because neither of them were willing to face the pain of confirming that their love really was one-sided.

#i really didnt mean for this to get that long it's just that theres so much Stuff #more for my own reference than anything im sure this has all been said before #also i do hold a fairly conservative opinion on mclennon #in that i think they both wanted each other romantically/sexually but mostly weren't aware of it #i am so often convinced otherwise though and there are many many things that make infinitely more sense if theyd been fucking #mclennon #john lennon #paul mccartney

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justmymindandstuff · 5 months ago

Note

Would thou spare a mere peasant a moment??

Imagine Targ!reader visiting the wall with Cregan (similar moment he had with Jace, and maybe Jace is there too, it’s up to you)

And reader forces her dragon to go beyond the wall by jumping off the top of it

I’ll leave the rest to you 😚❤️

jump scare - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

summary: you and your twin Jacaerys follow Cregans invitation to the wall. As your Dragon refused to fly over the wall he sees a glimps of your temper. At that moment he knows that you, as the future Lady Stark, will bring trouble into Winterfells halls.

words: 2.691

warnings: kissing, Cregan has a crush (but he doesn´t know it)

a/n: Reader is Rhaenyras daughter and described with black hair and purple eyes// no use of Y/N// English is not my first language // not proofread // AO3

I love this idea so much, soo thank you anon🧡, but I had a hard time writing this, so it´s a bit short and I not completely like how it came out (edit: you can read part 2/6 here- seriesmasterlist/moodbord)

anyways I hope you like it.

Have fun and be kind 🧡

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Cregan shifts from one foot to the other as the elevator slowly jerks up the Wall. The brothers of the Night's Watch and Castle Black grow smaller beneath him. His breath forms white clouds in the cold air. The Warden of the North tries to get rid of his inner restlessness. He wishes the elevator would go faster, while at the same time hoping this ride would never end.

At the top of the wall, he will soon meet the Prince and Princess of the Seven Kingdoms again, of course with their two dragons.

Jacaerys and you landed in Winterfell's courtyard a few days ago with Vermax and Veraxes. And you brought war with you. At the thought, Cregan's insides twist.

Jacaerys made him an offer on behalf of his mother: Cregan and his men would ride south for the queen and support her claim, in exchange for a marriage with the princess. Rhaenyra Targaryen gives him her only daughter as a wife.

Cregan knows he can't refuse such an offer. Nobody turn down a Targaryen offer.

And he could have done worse.

He doesn't like the thought, but he knows he could have done worse. His future wife is beautiful. Long black hair that stands in stark contrast to your pale skin, delicate features, and those sparkling eyes. There is something in it, Cregan can't quite put his finger on it yet. You have a fire, a wildness behind your eyes that Cregan has never seen before.

A woman like you is actually worth his entire army. Cregan would theoretically have to arm every man, woman, and child in the North and send them south to redeem his debt.

But he can't.

He can only send 2,000 men, Greybeards. Cregan cannot spare more, he needs his men here for the coming winter. And like his House words are saying: winter is coming.

That's the reason why you are here, that's the reason for Cregan's invitation to the Wall. You and your brother need to understand why he can't send more men. You both need to see it. Before Cregan takes you as his wife in a few days at Goodswood of Winterfell and thus seals the pact of ice and fire.

"It is an honor for me to be able to fulfill my duty, and Winterfell is very beautiful. I look forward to making it my home."

More than that, you haven't said about your marriage. Cregan doesn't know if you really mean it or if you have memorized these words, because your mother told you so. He hopes you meant it.

He can't figure you out. In the past few days, Cregan was able to spend a little time with you, but he hasn't really gotten to know you yet. Also because Jacaerys was present at each of your meetings, of course Cregan would never do anything that would endanger your honor and reputation. He is a Stark, a man of honor. That's why you two always have your brother as achaperone.

What Cregan has learned in the short time is that you are definitely not a little princess who needs to be rescued from a tower.

You train with swords, fly almost daily on your dragon, can curse like a sailor, and are not too shy to give your brother a piece of your mind everytime he gets on your nerves.

On the other hand, you have a razor-sharp mind, smile kindly at Cregan, dance skillfully and make every move with an elegance that only a Targaryen princess possesses.

You attract him like light attracts a moth. Your attractiveness has captured him, and the fragments of your being that you show him only make him more curious about the rest. He wants to get to know you, everything about you. Cregan can hardly think of you without his thoughts and feelings swirling around inside him like a storm.

A loud crack next to him makes the Warden of the North flinch and snaps him out of his thoughts. Cregan looks to the side. Veraxes slams his claws into the ice of the Wall with full force, her body crashs against it, and the Wall seems to tremble under the impact. Cregan hears you curse loudly in a foreign language, high valyrian, he is sure. Jacaerys' laughter rings out above him and Vermax flies over him before the dragon lands on the wall, noticeably gentler than Veraxes.

Cregan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. He pushes all thoughts of you and your future marriage aside. One step at a time. First he must show you what the Night's Watch and House Stark do for centuries, protecting the realm before the dangers beyond the Wall.

The elevator stops at the top, the doors open. Cregan allows himself two more heartbeats to gather himself, then steps outside onto the Wall.

Immediately, the cold wind whips around his ears, but apart from a brief shiver it doesn´t bothered him.

Veraxes climbs the Wall, her claws break off large pieces of ice that fall down. Cregan hopes that no one gets hit. You and your dragon arrive at the top and you place Veraxes next to Vermax. You slide down her wing and land next to your twin brother, snow swirling around your boots.

Cregan's gaze shifts from you to the dragons. Vermax and Veraxes, twin dragons you told him on the first evening, both dragons hatched from the eggs in you and your brothers cribs.

The dragons make whistling sounds, turning their heads. They seem nervous. The young Lord finds his own thoughts ridiculous in the next moment. What could possibly make dragons nervous?

Cregan has to swallow and takes the last steps towards his royal guests. The siblings are completely engrossed in their usual bickering.

"I told you she wouldn't fly over." laughs Jacaerys, you jab him in the stomach and then jump two steps to the side so his counterattack doesn't hit you.

"She'll do it." you say as you look over the edge of the Wall.

"Please don't go so close to the edge." the prince's voice sounds alarmed.

"Don't be such a coward, Jacey."

"Don't call me that. I'm not a little kid anymore." the prince snaps.

"Then don't act like one." you say dry and still don't take a step away from the edge. On the contrary, you push your feet a little closer to the edge, the tips of your boots no longer have any grip.

Cregan cleared his throat to get your attention. "My Lady, your brother is right. You shouldn't stand so close to the edge of the wall."

You tilt your head slightly, a hint of a smile dancing on your full lips. "Good thing you'll only be my husband in three days My Lord and only then you can give me orders." you say, your cheerful tone doesn´t match your bitter words.

Cregan feels as if you had hit him in the stomach and looks helplessly at Jacaerys, but he just shrugs and gives him an apologetic smile.

Suddenly, the dragons move. Cregan manages at the last second to prevent himself from flinching as Vermax's claw strikes the ice beside him. The dragons make whistling noises again, Veraxes restlessly lashes her tail back and forth.

Cregan looks at the twins. "Is something wrong with them?" he can't manage to suppress the concern in his voice.

You look at him, smile again as if your last comment had never been made. "Do you know the story of Queen Alysanne Targaryen?" you ask instead of answering.

Cregan tries not to show his confusion about your behavior and nods. Everyone knows the story: The queen wanted to fly over the wall with her dragon, the dragon refused. That has never happened before.

"My dearest sister here thought she was better than Queen Alysanne and wanted to fly Veraxes over the Wall."

"I didn't think I´m better than Queen Alysanne." you interrupt your brother, but he simply ignores you. The prince turns directly to Cregan.

"You saw how well the attempt worked."

Cregan furrows his brow. "So the dragons refuse to fly over the Wall?" he asks just to be sure.

"Obviously. They don't like it here." you say, again your gaze goes over the edge downwards. "7000 feet, right?"

"Yes, My Lady," Cregan confirms. He doesn't know if his uneasy feeling comes from the fact that you are half leaning over the edge of the Wall or from the fact that the dragons refuse to fly over it. It doesn't matter right know. The young Lord has to swallow and suppress the urge to go to you and pull you away from the wall.

The dragons also lean further forward, but their noses never go beyond the edge of the Wall. You and Jace watch your monsters closely as they move. While Jacaerys looks worried, you are curious.

Cregan seizes the moment and looks at you. The winter sun shines on you, makes you glow, and gets caught in your dark braids. Your cheeks and nose are slightly reddened from the cold up here. Cregan's fingertips tingle slightl as the desire arises to caress the soft skin of your cheek.

Would you lean into his touch? Or slap his hand away? Cregan has no idea, but he's eager to find out. Again, he has to pull himself together to come back into the moment. Again, he reminds himself: one step at a time.

"Forget it, sister. Silverwing didn't fly over the Wall, Veraxes will do it neither." Jacaerys sounds annoyed. Cregan sees out of the corner of his eye as he shifts his weight slightly forward, ready to catch you if you trip.

"Just because you can't get Vermax to do it." you say, the challenge clear in your tone and the way your eyes sparkle. Cregan has the feeling that you are hatching something, and the way your gaze goes from him to your brother tells him that it won't be anything good.

"Veraxes won't fly over it either." Jacaerys insists.

A mischievous grin appears on your face, your intentions now clearly visible. "Bet?" you ask, turning to your brother. You say something in high valyrian that Cregan doesn't understand.

The next second you wink at him, spread your arms and let yourself fall backward from the Wall.

Cregan's heart stops for a moment, Jacaerys calls your name, his voice trembling. Both men run forward, but of course, neither of them manages to hold onto you anymore. Cregan looks over the edge and sees you falling quickly. His entire body tenses up in fear. Not only is he watching you fall to your own death, but it's happening under his watch as well. The Dragon Queen would probably turn the entire North to ashes if she hears that her only daughter has met her end in the North.

And he would never hear your melodic laughter again, Cregan immediately gets annoyed by this inappropriate thought.

Suddenly, he is caught by a gust of wind and almost falls off the wall himself as Veraxes flies just a few centimeters past him and throws himself after you. The dragon lets out a cry that sounds angry and desperate. The sound reminds Cregan of a mother weeping for her frozen baby.

"I'll kill her." Jacaerys murmurs quietly next to Cregan as they watch your dragon catch up with you, fly under you, so you land on her saddle. Cregan is sure that must have hurt.

Veraxes spreads her wings and catches her fall, the Lord of Winterfell isn't quite sure how much space there is left to the ground but from up here it doesn't look like much.

He has to take a deep breath, relief flooding through him. Thank the gods you're not dead.

You turn your dragon vertically and fly steeply up the wall. As you shoot past Cregan, he flinches a step back but can't take his eyes off you.

You throw your head back and laugh a loud, joyful laugh. The wind tousles your braids, and the winter sun makes your eyes sparkle. And there it is again, that freedom, that wildness in your gaze. Cregan's heart skips a beat at the sight. By all the gods, he knows in that moment that you are fearless, maybe a little insane, but definitely fearless. You will fit well in the North, you will fit well with him.

Cregan is impressed, he can't help but stare at and admire you as you let your Dragon land right next to Cregan at the edge of the wall. You are still laughing.

Veraxes stands so close that the sulfur smell rises to his nose and he feels the warmth of the dragon. Your dragon blows hot air from its nostrils, accompanied by a rumbling noise from its throat that makes Cregan's neck hairs stand on end. Her tail crashes against the ice on the other side, causing the ice under his feets to tremble. You are sitting on her back and sticking your tongue out at your twin.

"I told you so." you say, still laughing at Jacaerys and his shocked face.

"I swear to you if mother..." begins the prunce, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.

"You're just angry because you lost the bet." you say. "And besides, in a few days I won't be Mother's concern anymore."

Jacaerys opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes from his throat. Then he looks at Cregan, and his neck turns slightly red.

"My Lord future husband." you break the silence with a gentle voice, and Cregan immediately turns to you. "A helping hand?"

His feelings are completely mixed up, still he steps closer to Veraxes without thinking, extends his hand to you and helps you dismount from your dragon. Even though you all know that you don't need help.

You land right in front of him, so close that he can make out the different shades of purple in your eyes. Your pleasant scent envelops him, for two heartbeats Cregan forgets everything around you. He recognizes that wild sparkle in your eyes again, and before he can react you stand on your tiptoes place your hand on the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. When your lips meet, the brief moment of surprise is dispelled by a hot shiver that runs through his body. Instinctively, his hand reaches for your hip and he pulls you closer to him. Your soft lips move perfectly against his, and his heart begins to beat faster at the sensation.

You part breathlessly from each other, for a brief moment you look deeply into his eyes. A smile dances around your lips. Cregans can't help but smile with you, this time it's him who winks. He is rewarded with a radiant smile from you. Cregan blinks, and the moment is gone.

While you turn back to your brother, Cregan has to take a deep breath to calm his heartbeat.

"Brother. It was nice to beat you again." you spit at Jacaerys and lift your chin. But when you turn back to Cregan there is a soft smile on your face, which makes his heart stumble again. "My Lord. Please excuse me. I want to look at the rest of the Wall." you nod to him and then turn away.

The Lord of Winterfell can do nothing but stare after you as you walk along the wall. You don't even have to call Veraxes, she takes off again and flies north of the Wall beside you.

Cregan looks at the prince again, fearing for a heartbeat that Jacaerys will now burn him with Vermax. After all, Cregan has dishonored his sister.

The prince, however, appears more annoyed than angry. Jacaerys bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head slightly. "Good luck with her, Lord Stark. She only causes headaches." he says then.

"Aye, probably." says Cregan, but can't suppress a grin. Yes, you mean trouble, but Cregan is ready for this journey. He is looking forward to it.

part 2

#cregan stark x you #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fic #cregan stark fanfiction #hotd fic #house of the dragon #hotd #cregan stark x targaryen!reader #cregan stark fic #game of thrones x reader #hotd x reader #cregan stark request #ice and fire

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