#planning on posting more about this au later

[morning-fragility]

🔊 Sleep Token — The Apparition 🔊

What remains of you and me so far:

[ Check out the first post about this AU ]

Hii, my mind has been running every direction all at once lately, so RAW BULLET POINTS IT IS! 💥🔫

● It all starts when Jimmy asks Grian to help him with bore holes for their survey last fall.

(In his head, Grian agrees the very first time Jimmy comes to him, but enjoys taunting him for another week nontheless)

The place is in the middle of nowhere, and the entire way there — the entire long, tiring, mostly off-road way there — Grian wonders how they found this valley to begin with. Locals in the last village they pass smile at them condescendingly; forester is a bit more straight-forward: they look like three presumptuous idiots, Joel, Jimmy and himself, with their car getting stuck miserably at one point.

The very first bore hole drills directly into a human skull.

The complex swirl of emotions on Jimmy's face is like nothing Grian has seen before.

And so it was settled.

● (Yes, the skull they drill into was Jimmy's.)

● Next summer Grian brings along Mumbo, his fellow geologist and dear friend ever since their university times; he has never worked with archeologists before and is, naturally, chuffed to bits.

Scar has been eager for some kind of vacation for a long time, too, and gladly takes the opportunity to try something new.

The only other wild card in otherwise pretty well-established group of archeologists is Tango, who lost a bet to Skizz and is now stuck helping his boys.

(Cub was invited by multiple people as well, but sadly he's too busy with work and couldn't make it, despite planning to. Scar calls him every time he's able to catch the signal).

● At first everything goes normally. They get to the place, set up their camp near old cabin of local gamekeeper, move their provisions and most of the equipment inside the cabin, check out the river and find a good spot to get down to it easily. The weather is pretty nice, the nature around is gorgeous. The first time they go to take a proper look at the site itself Grian feels a bit dizzy, but he doesn't pay much attention to it and quickly joins the discussion of outlines of the buildings visible on the ground.

● The oddities begin a couple of days later, when they finish with the camp and start the actual work.

Specifically, Grian starts acting weird.

Not like it's out of character for him, but neither Scar, nor Joel or Mumbo recall him having, say, troubles with hearing; now, often he's not reacting when someone calls out to him directly, but mentions hearing people talk when nobody spoke. Sometimes he looks openly lost or suddenly stops in his tracks and gives them confused glances, as if wanting to ask something or surprised to see them. A couple of times he wonders off into the woods alone (to "check what's out there" )

The gang are reasonably worried about him, but hesitate to confront him openly. Most of them are not exactly familiar with Grian's personal life and don't want to overstep, and each time someone who is tries, he brushes them off.

● At some point in the beginning of the second week, Grian suddenly breaks into laughter when they uncover yet another skeleton. It's loud, abrupt. Hysterical.

Scar, who's getting real concerns now, steadies him by the shoulders and leads him away from the sun, back to the camp; but Grian barely notices.

On their way from the site, Grian locks eyes with Scott, who goes pale and stays that way for the rest of the day. That's enough for Grian to gather he's not the only one who's rapidly going insane.

● And Grian starts thinking he's going insane. At first he blames it on the nerves. The last couple of months have been stressful, the weather is hot lately, he's not getting enough sleep, he must have overworked himself...

But this barely explains what he's actively hallucinating, and eventually it all sinks in. The realization, the deja vus. The dread. The feeling of being trapped, helpless, stuck in a loop he had no idea existed and likely has no control over.

He withdraws into himself and starts avoiding people; particularly Scar, because oh, Grian is terrified of visions of him. Of hearing his voice say words he can't understand, of echo of his laughter carried through the valley, of his silhouette following him along the treeline. Of seeing what remains of his bones and trying not to throw up.

There are visions of others, too, and they mess with Grian's head all the same, sure, but Scar is just... different. Too much. Grian can't look him in the eye now, can't stand the warmth of his touch. But can't get away either.

They must've loved eachother then, too. He can tell.

This revelation makes Grian feel relieved and betrayed at the same time, and all he can think about is the question of free will.

● Scar is very confused by this change, even when he starts getting visions of his own.

Grian doesn't kiss him anymore. Doesn't smile at him. Often doesn't even sit near him or Mumbo at breakfast and lunch, too deep in conversation with Big B. He refuses to talk about this; ignores Scar only to suddenly brush shoulders or lean into him, and then act like it never happened.

Worst of all is the way Grian is looking at him lately — well, mostly he doesn't, — but when he does, it's with an emotion Scar can't identify. A mix of anger, sorrow, longing, guilt, and something else, much softer, tender. It drives Scar crazy.

Most of the expedition members don't even know there's something between them. Although they were never officially together, so even Scar himself is not sure anymore. He thought they were fine, but apparently he messed something up, didn't he? Overstepped somewhere, misunderstood something, rushed, did something wrong... Otherwise why would Grian be like this when they're clearly meant to be together, what in the world is he doing to both of them? Is he blind??

● (I really liked how poetically Birdie put this when I rambled about it to them):

● And so, while Grian is staring at visions of Scar from the past with fear and sorrow, Scar chases the visions of Grian, curious about this version of him, needing to know more. He feels uneasy about some of the hallucinations at times, sure, but they intrigue him nevertheless.

● The expedition carries on, nevermind the awkward silences between people, half-truths, shared looks of confusion and deep, unspoken sadness.

● Scar paints local views, trees, mountains, the riverbank. Sometimes Bdubs or Pearl join him and they disappear together for hours, only to later return with hands full of sketches, wet canvases and Scar's trusty painter's case, with smudges of oil paint all over their hands and faces, laughing and chatting.

He tries to be a bit more sneaky about this, but he also draws people, Grian chief among them: little portraits of him are scattered all across his sketchbook, both real and the one from the visions. Along with Jimmy, Lizzie, Mumbo, Bdubs and others.

● They find a couple of old fishing rods in the cabin, and with a bit of tinkering and Etho's professional fishing kit, there's an impromptu fishing club on the weekends. Grian finds some peace in these evenings.

● The work goes at a fast pace; there are very few problems with identifying artefacts and deciding where to expand the excavation next. Nobody bothers asking questions anymore.

Pearl stops talking to Scott. Martyn doesn't seem to leave Ren's side. Cleo frowns at them and sticks to teasing Etho and Bdubs.

● The breaking point comes when the weather gets bad. There are several rainy days in a row, and they're forced to mostly stay at the camp and busy themselves with cleaning and cataloging the artefacts. Grian sorts through things that used to belong to some other version of him and decides he can't take it anymore. He wants to leave. As soon as possible, as far as possible. This prompts a heated discussion amongst archeologists, but Cleo gives Grian a knowing look and backs him up, assuring Martyn she'll deal with the paperwork herself when they return at the end of the season (and will personally make sure Grian doesn't get a single penny out of this). Besides, they've been planning on sending Joel to the store anyway.

● Scar is not as nonchalant when he learns about this, — did Grian even plan to tell him?

He's mad, in fact.

Upset and done with playing this silent game with ever-changing rules, he confronts Grian about what's going on; about them and their history (both as they knew it and the one discovered more recently).

(here's a little snippet):

They fight outside as the rain gets heavier and heavier, and Scar storms off to "check if the site is properly covered", secretly hoping to see a vision of Grian from the past there; he'd be much more pleasant to deal with right now, that's for sure.

Grian doesn't follow.

He returns to the camp alone. Joel tells him there's no way they're driving through the mess that are the forest roads right now, and nobody sees him for the rest of the evening.

● The next day Scar wakes up with a nasty cold. The sun comes out, though. It's getting hot again.

● The worst of the puddles and the mess on the road dry out in a day, and Grian and Joel set out for the trip. They're worried about Scar (Grian feels so, so bad about this) and propose taking him to the hospital, but Cleo gives them a look ("it's a bloody cold, Grian, he's not dying. Although he might, if you try taking him on that hellish roller-coaster with a fever") and waves them off.

Mumbo stays; he's glad to find Scar asleep when he comes to check on him.

● The entire way to the nearest village with a convenience store — the entire gloomy, bleak, mostly off-road way there — Grian contemplates on existence in general and the last several weeks of it in particular. On the concept of soulmates. On what Scar had told him. On assuring himself he's in charge of his own life, and living said life without Scar in it.

Joel curses his car on every bump and tries to pull Grian out of his thoughts. It works, for a while. But when they finally get to the store, all Grian can think about is the pack of pistachios on the shelf and every time Scar said he wanted some this month. About how Scar is wallowing in his tent right now, sick and miserable, in the middle of nowhere. How this is Grian's fault entirely, how he made this choice for both of them, and now runs like a coward.

How unimportant and not right everything seems suddenly, when Scar must be heartbroken and so lonely — bright, kind, handsome and mischievous Scar...

● Joel pays at the checkout and joins Grian at the stairs in front of the store with two cans of beer.

The moment Grian thinks he's about to be lectured, Joel is already starting his "alright, Grian, what's blummin' wrong with you, you stupid arse". So Grian grins into his can and enjoys playing dumb. Because oh, he's got no idea what Joel's talking about, who's going where? He never said he's leaving-leaving, just volunteered to help a friend with groceries, he's nice like that.

When he senses he's about to get punched, possibly in the face, Grian gets up and starts loading Joel's car with grocery bags and boxes (maybe that's what saves him from a bruise after all).

● Joel gets his first flashback when he and Grian are getting out of his jeep late in the evening, talking about families and prospects of Joel settling down and starting one with Lizzie. He's very confused, but his experience is the least traumatizing of them all :'D

● (another snippet):

And Grian stays, truly. He tries not to run from visions anymore, but searches for Scar's hand every time he feels panic crawl into his chest instead. It's not that he stops contemplating the questions of fate and free will in all of this, as much as he finds it doesn't really matter anyway.

They leave together with half of the group two weeks later, causing several surprised gasps (and a cheerful whistle from Mumbo) when kissing on the site one last time, as a goodbye to it and whatever happened there.

(And what exactly happened there? Nobody knows yet, and nobody will never know for sure. That's history for you, baby >:] )

________________

There you go! Most of this is directly from my notes, so hope it's not too chaotic and maybe even understandable :'D

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Okay okay okay I read your shapeshifter Stan au and now am thinking about what if Mabel was a shapeshifter too? Why is she a girl when Dippers a boy?? She was goofing around :) but I was like “guess twins don’t run in the family” then went “what if shapeshifters do??” Also I’m in denial, Tate will be Shifty’s Base- (gets dragged away)

Love your blog btw! Post banger after banger!!

Since shapeshifters can recognize each other, Stan knows immediately that Mabel is one. He and Mabels spawner would get in a fist fight over who's mentoring her, because they might have spawned her but she's now Stan's niece, so he has dibs.

He'd win of course, then pester his nephew to come visit constantly, so that he could bestow upon her his shapeshifter secrets and teach her proper socialization, and Ford could help Dipper learn how to live with a shapeshifting sibling.

I'm thinking the gender difference could go two ways.

One of the Mystery Twins is trans, because in order to shift, they need to see what their turning into, and gender is made up for shapeshifters. Stan's male because he's more comfortable that way, but Maurice is non-binary, because they don't believe in it. Mabel might have started as a boy, then later found girl shifts to be more comfortable, or Dipper was born female, then came out as trans.

It doesnt matter which one, because the end result is still identical girl and boy twins.

The only other alternative i can think of is that because Mabel is older, she hatched before Dipper had been born, and turned into a girl, before their spawner very quickly put her with Dipper and told her to fix it, causing, again, identical girl boy twins.

Either way, they're still identical, and Stan battled for the position as her mentor and won.

Very important to note, is that Mabel is not born a silly chaos master. Its a learned behavior, because shapeshifters are all born as sorta blank slates, then learn from their base. Even Stan straight up did not like Ford until they were almost four years old. Ford was his Important Person, but all that meant was that Stan needed to pay attention to what he was doing. They had a business relationship on his end, that turned into love through Ford's (perceived) acceptance of Stan's abilities and spending time with him.

Mabel would be similar, copying Dipper, but getting more off script as she grew and formed her own opinions on things. The turning point for her would be Dipper starting the chaos, through one of his plans, then sticking through it with her. She'd enjoy the feeling, and enjoy that Dipper taught it to her, leading to their close bond as they grew.

In this scenario, Mabel's growth would be similar to Stan's, in that she learned to do the opposite of Dipper, because Dipper was boring and she didnt enjoy feeling anxious all the time.

[undertale-gardensave]

Well... I hate to do this, but I think I'll abandon Gardensave

I'm sorry.I swear I tried really hard to continue AU in a new way and I really wanted to do it!But unfortunately it didn't work.

when I started this AU it was great to imagine the concepts and draw the characters but now, I don't know, it all seems to have become boring and annoying, like it's a job I'm obliged to do and I don't like that!I made this AU for fun so it seems more like it's lost the purpose TwT

Well, I don't really want to give up AU completely , I'm just going to stop the "process of creating it", I don't know if I'm explaining it right 🫠

My original plan (after restarting AU) was to gradually post the AU information, like:First shows Frisk and her "powers", then Toriel and the rest of the ruins, then the Sans and...well you get the idea

As I no longer intend to continue this story, I was thinking of stopping the mystery and simply answering anything you ask about the AU.Just to put these concepts that I had already created to some use -w-

Maybe later (If I can motivated myself to draw) I'll show you the few designs I've finished ?

So that's it, I'm sorry again and... let me know what you think

Also, here are some sketches of a sort of "introductory comic" which I was working on but couldn't finish for lack of inspiration

[dreamweave01]

So what if Wu wasn't the one who found them?

.

. . .

. . . . .

. . . . . . . I think this is the darkest Ninjago AU I've ever thought up of :/

[shouyuus]

sfw; modern neighbor!vi au

cool but enough about that. thinking about vi who lives in the same apartment building as you and is on the same floor just a few doors down, who sees you struggling with some boxes when moving in so she sweeps in to your rescue and well i mean you're not one to look a-gift-horse-muscular-butch in the mouth when she's so valiantly offering to carry these boxes for you.

who introduces herself and tells you that she lives here with her sister, who's studying mechanical engineering at the university. her? oh, she's a freelancer! you know how it is these days, teaches boxing at the local gym, helps her dad with the family bar on the weekends sometimes, "bit of this and a bit of that." and it sounds like she doesn't wanna talk about it all that much so you don't ask.

you ask her in for a cup of coffee, say it's the least you can do to thank her for helping you with the boxes.

"pleasure's mine, helping a pretty girl like you."

woof.

you swallow, busying yourself with your beat up little moka pot, asking her if she wants sugar or creamer. both, she says, and you pause, looking over your shoulder. she's leant up against your half-unpacked sofa, her arms knitted loosely over her chest.

"what? i've always like my stuff with a little bit of sugar."

it's a simple enough statement but the way she says it makes all your fingers and toes tingle. you swallow, fiddling with the fraying edges of your sweater sleeve.

"yeah, no -- that's --"

you jump as the moka starts to bubble and you pull it off the stove, feeling the same heat working it's way into your skin.

it's easy, so easy, after that. she offers to help you unpack (only if you need it of course) and well, you could use another pair of hands. you tell her that you'll pay her in pizza, and she smiles so wide you can see the hint of a dimple etching itself into her cheek.

you end up spending the whole day together, and when all the boxes are broken down and tamped into a pile by the door, your fingers grease-stained, sitting curled up on your now fully built-out couch, with plastic cups of prosecco, she sighs, staring into the bubbling liquid with a smile just a hitch away from sadness.

"cool! well -- thanks for the pizza," she sets down the cup and pushes up off the couch. you clear your throat and scramble up as well, pressing your palms into your thighs.

"no! thank you for helping me --" you motion around your apartment, "and uh --" you chew on your lips, teetering on the balls of your feet.

"if you ever wanna hang out," vi says, grinning as she rounds the sofa, glancing over her shoulder, "i'm just two doors down."

you slump down onto the sofa, pressing a hand to your chest, feeling it's wild, fluttering beat beneath your palm as you try to steady your breathing.

a few days later, you knock on her door, only to find a girl with shocking blue space buns and a pair of magnifying goggles on her head that make her look truly unhinged.

"who're you?"

you blink, fingers clutched around a large mug.

"uh -- uhm -- i just -- i moved in to the unit two doors down a few days ago and i was -- i was wondering if i could -- borrow some... sugar?" you hold out the mug, wondering if you've just royally fucked up.

"powder? who's at the door?" vi's voice calls out just as the girl with blue hair opens her mouth.

powder pauses, a sly smirk twisting the edge of her lips as she pushes up her goggles to reveal bright blue eyes just a few shades darker than vi's.

"oh no one, juuuuust... the super cute neighbor you couldn't shut up about from a few days ag --"

something clanks from further in the apartment and the girl named powder gets yanked back as vi appears, wide-eyed and a bit disheveled, clearing her throat as she almost crashes into her doorframe.

"h-hi! what -- what're you doing here?"

"i uhm --" you swallow, warmth prickling beneath your skin.

"sugar," powder says, rolling her eyes, waving a hand as she prances back into the apartment.

"sugar...?" vi asks, almost uncomprehending.

you lick your lips, holding out the cup, "yeah... i -- uh -- ran out..."

vi blinks down at the empty mug for a second too long before her eyes flash up to meet yours.

"yeah? what've you been up to, using so much sugar?"

you lick your lips, biting down on our bottom lip as she steps back to motion you into the apartment. it's not big, but it is cozy, sticky-notes and doodles littering almost every available surface, cups with day-old coffee/water/tea cluttered on the countertops. but vi reaches up into the cupboards and tugs down the sugar bag.

"i --" you cut off as she fills up your cup.

you don't want to tell her that you were trying to bake cupcakes of all things. and for her no less.

"ahh... don't wanna tell me? s'okay -- fine then, keep your secrets," she teases, shooting you a tiny wink as she leans up to put the sugar back.

"it's --" you nearly trip over your words as they tumble out of you, "i was -- wanted to make some cupcakes -- f-for... you..." you force out, turning away as her eyes widen slightly, "but i keep fucking up the measurements so --" you chance her another glance.

vi watches you with a soft smile, leaning against her kitchen counter.

"for me, sugar?"

you nod, now feeling impossibly hot as she vi slates you a knowing smile.

"well, lemme know when you're done," she says, "and uh..." she glances down at your sugar cup, "don't be afraid to put in a little extra for me, okay?"

you walk back to your own apartment in a daze, staring down at the cup of white sugar grains as you finally get back to your kitchen and set the mug down. you look at the two batches of failed cupcakes sitting on the counter and sigh, a helpless little smile ticking up the corner of your lips as you remember the twinkle in vi's eyes as she'd told you to add a little more sugar for her.

you drop your face into your hands with a loud groan, slumping back onto the couch, letting your feet dangle off the side as you stare at the light-stricken ceiling.

and you say, to no one in particular --

"i am so, so fucked."

[idlingmoons]

hi oc enjoyers, i now have ref sheets! in order, from top to bottom: apricot, bloodmoon, daydream, and sungrass

with all my ocs present here, i'll talk a bit about the universe that they're from! i've been calling it what's your worth (wyw), and i've been hoping to at least maybe plan a fic and sort out some details about it.

the base premise of wyw is that y/n has cut off their family and sold off any belongings related to them! after getting a trailer to get away from their family, they somehow keep attracting bots to them.

unfortunately, not every bots gets to stay with y/n, but i like to think that each one is impactful on y/n's journey, along with everyone else's. i like to think that y/n gets to kiss every bot that stays with them, and at least hug every bot that they meet. it's up in the air who stays with y/n for now, but it's sure fun to think about!

[asexual-shelly]

what if she was fucked up and evil actually

[izaya-is-life]

I've been obsessed with this pokemon idea inspired by a talk with my friends. Here's Hiei as a pokemon trainer!

Pokemon teams - Kurama art - Kuwabara art - Yusuke art

[limboneto]

Offers a wild Dingus and runs-

[pocketramblr]

Who knows what Gerudo culture or fashion would have evolved into by 'Rule's time but it's nice to think about him getting to experience a bit more of it in another universe... Before BLYGanon sours it for him... Also been thinking about that Great Fairy of the desert...

[anachronistic-falsehood]

i'm having ideas for like a qsmp character roleswap and how that would effect the story. like we switch the backstories and canon events of some characters and see what it does. pac and cellbit swap, mike and bagi swap, felps and forever, bad and phil, roier and fit, and tina and tubbo maybe??? or tubbo and niki??? idk those are the only ideas i have right now but i am rotating this potential au in my mind so hard. imagine kid pac running away from the island and ending up in a war with philza minecraft. cellbit and bagi living together in an orphanage before turning to robbery as a means for money. roier from an anarchist wasteland and fit with no memory of why he's here. ofc spiderbit still speedrun their wedding and fitpac still exist in the most agonizing slowburn ever except now cellbit is in a spiral of panic, roier is being recruited by the resistance, fit is depressed and emo, and pac is eating people <3

[starzdeath]

Fun fact: The Chaos Project and Sonic Star AU were both made one random morning in history class

[skitskatdacat63]

🔴+🎱 for both!!

- Penalanon (back from kidnapping Newey to AM HQ hiatus)

PENALANONNNNN I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹

I'd wait to answer this till I actually post at least one of the answers to yours, but that won't be for like 2 days, and I can't not say welcome back!! Cause I really missed hearing from you 😭😭 also ah so all those constant clickbait articles about how Newey is "definitely going to Aston" were bcs of you?? Makes sense. Are you really Mike Krack in diguise??

[boogiewoogieweeb]

looking at a wip you've worked really hard on and knowing that you're going to have to abandon it because things just aren't working out no matter how hard you try feels like throwing one of your beloved, trusting children down a well to drown so that their siblings can have a chance at survival at least

[kyeomofhearts]

Back For More | J.WW

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ "A little rain never hurt anyone." ᯓᡣ𐭩

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone you happen to share a history with. + pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader + genre(s): fluff, smut, romance, childhood acquaintances to lovers (?), angst (only if you squint at the end). + word count: 6.3k + content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, teasing. + warnings: heavy make out session, a lot of teasing in-between, oral (fem!rec), they switch positions like once, slight overstimulation, hair pulling, dry humping, wonwoo calls reader 'birdy'. [MDNI]

HC | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

[ᝰ.ᐟ] heyyyy! long time no see :D i know i took forever on posting this but at least i hope i made it worth the wait. if you like it please comment and reblog, it honestly pushes me to write more hehe! ALSO HUGE THANKS TO @facethesunflower for beta reading this for me!!

The helmet glared in your direction. It was taunting you in a way, as if it knew that you were scared. 

It was dumb, really—a mere helmet causing such unease—but here you were, voice wavering as you mumbled, “There’s absolutely no way I’m getting on that bike.”

Wonwoo chuckled softly, the sound teasing but warm. And as much as Wonwoo wanted to tease you about this, he knew it would only make you resist riding the bike with him. So for now, he planned to calm you down and make fun of you later.

“Yn, come on,” he said, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. The comforting weight of it anchored you, even as you felt your nerves spiraling all over the place. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that was almost disarming. “We’ll just ride through the streets,” he assured, “and I’ll go slow.”

His thumb moved in gentle circles as he spoke, a small, mindless motion that shouldn’t have been so calming but somehow was. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself under his touch.

There was a pause as you studied him. Wonwoo’s expression was earnest, his words reassuring. As much as your cautious side screamed at you to refuse, another part of you—the part that, unfortunately, trusted him—nudged you forward. Maybe this could actually be fun?

“Promise you’ll be careful?” you asked again, needing to hear it one more time.

“Absolutely,” he replied without hesitation, his voice firm.

With a reluctant sigh, you grabbed his backpack. It was heavier than expected, filled with a mix of his and your belongings, but it was manageable. “Let’s hope this thing even fits me,” you muttered, reaching for the helmet.

Sliding it on took more effort than you’d anticipated. The snug fit surprised you, given how helmets aren’t exactly one-size-fits-all. Probably just pure luck, you thought.

Wonwoo stepped closer to help secure the straps. His hands worked deftly, and before you realized it, his face was mere inches from yours. Heat crept up your cheeks, and you silently thanked the helmet for concealing your embarrassment. The last thing you wanted was to feed his already-inflated ego.

But as he adjusted the straps, you noticed the smaller details of his face—the faint blemishes, the tiny imperfections that only seemed to make him more human. More real.

“Having fun?” His voice broke through your thoughts. 

You blinked, refocusing on his smirking face. That smirk—arrogant yet endearing—should be trademarked at this point.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, attempting to salvage your pride. “I can still back out, you know.”

Wonwoo chuckled, clearly unimpressed by your empty threat. “And yet, here you are.”

You rolled your eyes, choosing silence instead of fighting back. You distracted yourself with the weather. The air carried a light warmth, a preview of spring’s arrival. Clouds lingered from last night’s rain, their soft edges catching hints of sunlight. It was, admittedly, a perfect day for a ride.

The growl of the engine pulled your attention back to the present. Wonwoo glanced at you, his helmet obscuring most of his face but not the playful tilt of his head.

“Ynnn,” he drawled, motioning for you to get on.

“Uh,” you hesitated, awkwardly gesturing at the bike. “How do I…?”

He laughed, the sound low and easy. “Okay, first, stand on the left side. Put your foot here.” He tapped the footpeg. “Then swing your other leg over.”

You followed his instructions, pausing halfway. God, this was nerve-wracking. 

“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I’m keeping the bike steady. Just hold onto me if you need to.”

Summoning your courage, you followed his instructions and managed to climb onto the bike. It wasn’t as bad as you’d imagined.

“Good,” Wonwoo praised. “Now, scoot closer to me so we can balance better.”

Your arms hovered uncertainly around his waist.

With a light chuckle, he reached back and pulled your arms firmly around him. “Like this,” he said, tapping your hands lightly.

The closeness made your heart race even more. You prayed he couldn’t feel it through his jacket.

Wonwoo adjusted his helmet and then turned slightly to playfully bump it against yours. He gave you a double thumbs-up, silently asking if you were ready.

Well, you’ve come this far, you thought. No turning back now.

With a deep sigh, you returned the gesture.

The bike jerked forward gently, easing into motion. Wonwoo kept the speed low at first, giving you time to adjust. As he twisted the accelerator, the wind began to rush past, carrying your nerves with it. 

The city unfolded around you, familiar streets taking on a new perspective. The freedom of the ride was exhilarating, the hum of the engine a steady reassurance to your being. Despite your initial hesitance, you felt… safe.

You tightened your hold on Wonwoo as the bike picked up speed, your heart pounding—not just from the ride but from his proximity and the warmth radiating through his jacket.

For the duration of the ride, neither of you spoke. Well, it’s not like you could, anyway. The world blurred in a rush of motion and colors, leaving you breathless in the best way.

And… when the bike finally came to a stop, you almost wished it hadn’t.

Wonwoo set the kickstand down and turned off the engine. He glanced back at you, smirking as he noticed your arms still wrapped tightly around him.

“Enjoying yourself, huh?”

Flustered, you quickly let go and tried to dismount without his help, only to stumble halfway.

“Careful,” he said, steadying you with a hand on your waist, “don’t want you getting hurt now, do we?” And with that, he hopped off the bike with ease, extending his hand like it was second nature.

Taking his hand, you let him guide you off the bike; your legs felt wobbly, but you managed to stand nonetheless.

“How was the ride?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled through the helmet.

“It was…” you said as you both pulled off your helmets, the sound of the world rushing back to your ears. “…it was actually kind of fun.”

Wonwoo grinned, happy with your response. “Told you so.”

There was a beat or two where you just looked at each other, not knowing what else to say. 

With little reluctance, you held out the helmet with both hands, feeling oddly shy. “Here. Thanks for letting me borrow it,” you said softly.

He took the helmet, his fingers briefly brushing yours. “You kind of needed it.” 

Ugh, there he goes!

“I regret ever saying anything,” you groaned out, already making your way past him.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything as he trailed behind you, too busy basking in his victory 

As you made your way inside the elevator, you couldn’t resist the urge to tease him back. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

He shrugged casually. “Just following my backpack,” he murmured, giving a light tug on the grab handle of his backpack—the one that you forgot you had on.

Oh.

“If you just wanted to invite me over, you could have said so.” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was thoroughly amused with himself.

You huffed in annoyance, there was no winning when it came to him. “Just shut up.”

You shrugged off his backpack, taking your squished tote from its confines. “Here you go! Now you can go on your way.”

Wonwoo laughed at your little attitude. “Well, now that I’m here… it would be rude to just have you walk alone, wouldn’t it?”

While you would be more strict on letting a guy walk you to your apartment—more for privacy and safety reasons—you couldn’t help but be more lenient for Wonwoo. Part of you thinks that it’s due to knowing him for many years, but you know that wouldn’t be the complete truth.

You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. 

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Cat got your tongue?”

You didn’t say anything, only opting to flip him off as a response.

The elevator finally dinged, and you stepped out, leading him down the hallway. When you reached your door, you turned to face him fiddling with the handle. “Well, this is me. Thanks again for today, Wonwoo. Really.”

He leaned casually against the wall, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “Anytime.”

And just as you were about to respond to him, the sound of an apartment door—more specifically yours—creaked wide open. 

The sight of Yubin standing in the doorway startled you, and you stepped aside just as Sohee appeared behind her, holding a cup of coffee.

The pair froze at the sight of Wonwoo by the door.

“Oh,” Yubin said slowly, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Didn’t realize you were… busy.”

“Oh—I’m not!” you managed to blurt out. “I mean, we’re not. We just…” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward nothing.

“Right,” Yubin said, her tone neutral but laced with that teasing tone you’ve grown accustomed to. 

You groaned inwardly, knowing they wanted an introduction. “This is Wonwoo,” you mumbled, motioning toward him. “He’s an old friend.”

“Old friend?” Yubin repeated, her tone still teasing. “And I was beginning to think that you didn’t have any friends besides us…”

You shot her a glare. “Well, we only knew each other back then—”

Sohee’s eyes widened as she continued to look at you and Wonwoo. “Oh my god! Yubin, it’s that Wonwoo!” She said as she violently shook Yubin’s shoulders.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but laugh at the cute dynamic between the three of you. He also couldn’t help but feel more interested to know about what you may have told them about him.

“Didn’t know you spoke about me, birdy,” he piped in, looking directly into your eyes.

“She actua—” Sohee started, but you quickly covered her mouth with your hands, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

“Relax. We’re just messing with you,” Yubin said, giving you a playful nudge. Her attention turned back to Wonwoo. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat, but we were actually heading to the library. Don’t have too much fun, you two.”

“Yubin!” you hissed as she sauntered past, Sohee close behind.

“See you later, Yn. Don’t let the rain get to you, Wonwoo!” Sohee called over her shoulder, shooting you one last knowing grin before disappearing down the hallway. Rain?

As the door softly clicked shut, you were left in an almost suffocating silence. You exhaled heavily, your cheeks still burning from the encounter.

“Your roommates seem fun,” Wonwoo said, his lips twitching with amusement.

“Very,” you agreed almost instantly.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You know,” he said casually, “I don’t mind being teased, especially if it’s about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fumbled for a response. “That’s… I mean… they’re just—”

“Glad to know that you talk about me, though,” he said, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”

You blinked, your breath catching. 

His smile deepened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to say something else. But instead, he straightened himself and stepped back. “Although, what’s this about rain?… Wasn’t it just sunny when we got here?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure either, I was kind of confused by that too.”

Wonwoo only hummed. “Well, a little rain never hurt anyone.”

Maybe he was right, a little rain wasn’t the end of the world. If anything, it should be sprinkling at most right now. The weather can’t change that fast.

“I’ll see you on Sunday?” he said, ruffling your hair a bit.

You swatted at his hand only to reply with a meek, “Sure.”

With that, he turned on his heel, slipping out into the hallway. You watched as he walked back to the elevator, hands in his pockets, before finally shutting your apartment door. 

A little bit after Wonwoo had left, you decided to change into something more comfortable, opting for sweats and an oversized shirt. You put on one of your favorite shows for background noise only to notice how loud the it was outside. 

Wanting to see, you went over to the window near the kitchen, peeling back the curtain slightly—the sky was considerably darker than before. 

Your brows furrowed. Huh?

The rain was coming down in thick sheets now, the wind faintly whistling as it rattled the nearby street signs. That was weird. It hadn’t even been a full thirty minutes since you came in with Wonwoo, and now it was pouring? The sight of it made your stomach churn in concern. 

“A little rain never hurt anyone.”

You sighed. What an idiot. 

Still, he was an adult. He could take care of himself. You turned away from the window, trying to ignore the pit growing in your stomach. He’ll be fine.

To take your mind off of him, you decided to pull out some of your favorite candles—to help boost that rainy day ambiance, at least.

While lighting them up, you heard a loud knock at your door. 

Then another. The second knock was a lot louder this time. Frantic, if anything. 

Hesitant, you made your way to the door, checking to see who it was through the peephole, only for it to be Wonwoo. Ha.

Opening the door, you immediately burst into a fit of laughter—he was completely drenched. His black jacket clung to him, rainwater dripping from the ends of his hair, strands plastered to his forehead. His face was set in a deadpan expression, unamused by your amusement.

“Oh my God,” you wheezed, covering your mouth. “What happened to ‘a little rain never hurt anyone’?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, peeling his wet jacket off. “Are you going to keep laughing, or are you going to let me in?”

You pretended to think for a minute, tapping your chin as if you were in deep thought. “Hmm.”

Annoyed, Wonwoo began to move away from you—only for you to catch his wrist and drag him inside. “Yeah, okay, fine. I’m only doing this because you look pathetic.”

He muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue. You shut the door behind him, shaking your head as you turned to look at him again.

“You should’ve just left when you had the chance,” you teased, disappearing into the hallway closet. You returned a moment later with a clean towel, tossing it at him.

He caught it effortlessly, rubbing it over his face and hair before sighing. “It wasn’t that bad at first. But then the wind picked up like crazy, so I just ended up covering my bike.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress another laugh.

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

You grinned back at him. “No, you don’t.”

He didn’t respond, just continued to dry his hair before reaching for the hem of his soaked shirt. You turned away before he pulled it over his head, quickly rummaging through your dresser for something dry. Eventually, you found another oversized t-shirt and sweatpants—courtesy of your ex-boyfriend from many years ago.

“Here,” you said, handing it over without looking. “Change before you get sick.”

He raised a brow. “This yours?”

“No, it’s Casper’s,” you deadpanned. “Yes, of course, it’s mine! The bathroom is the first door to the right. Now go.” He didn’t need to know the truth…

Wonwoo only hummed, clearly amused by your response. He grabbed the set of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

As he changed, you busied yourself in the kitchen, setting water to boil for tea. The rain continued its steady rhythm against the windows, filling the space with a soothing ambiance.

By the time Wonwoo returned—his hair was still slightly damp, but he looked much warmer—he accepted the mug you handed him without question. You led him towards the couch since the kitchen was too cluttered for your liking. For a few minutes, the two of you simply sat there, comfortably sipping your drinks. 

“That’s a lot better,” he admitted. 

You hummed in agreement. And then, just when you thought the moment would pass without incident—

“So,” he said, setting the mug down on the coffee table. “Your roommates seemed very familiar with me.”

You groaned. “Seriously? We’re back to this again?”

“Uh-huh.” He stretched, letting out a satisfied chuckle. “Any hint to what you have been saying about me?”

You glared at him. “That you’re super annoying.”

He grinned. “And…?”

“I plead the fifth!”

His smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened. “Oh, that’s interesting.”

Your face burned. “That’s not—”

Wonwoo shifted closer, fingers grazing yours, his voice dropping ever so slightly. “It’s cute, birdy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched.

The smirk on Wonwoo’s face lingered, but his eyes darkened slightly, scanning your expression like he was waiting—for you to pull away, for you to say something, for anything that might indicate that you don’t want to explore this with him.

But you didn’t move.

Your heart pounded in your ears. The warmth of his hand near yours suddenly felt scorching, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, setting every nerve on fire.

“Birdy,” he murmured, the nickname rolling off his tongue softer this time, almost teasing but laced with something else—something heavier.

You swallowed hard. “You’re so—”

But before you could finish your sentence, Wonwoo closed the distance.

His lips pressed against yours—light at first, testing, lingering just long enough to make your stomach flip. But the second you melted into it, his restraint snapped.

Wonwoo moved fast, one hand slipping around your waist while the other cradled the side of your face, tilting your face just enough to deepen the kiss. He tasted like the tea you had made for him earlier mixed with something distinctly him—something you knew you would crave later. His lips moved against yours like he was trying to make up for all of the times he had almost kissed you but didn’t.

And God, he kissed like he meant it.

Your fingers fisted the fabric of his borrowed shirt, pulling him closer. Wonwoo groaned softly at the movement, the sound low and utterly wrecking. His grip on you tightened as he shifted, guiding you back until your arm met the cushions near the armrest. 

He hovered over you now, his body pressed deliciously close, his weight grounding you in a way that made your head spin. His knee slotted between your legs, just barely brushing against you, the contact sending shivers down your spine.

Wonwoo pulled back for a brief moment, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath warm against your skin. His thumb traced along your jaw, his eyes flickering between yours, searching. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, voice hoarse, “and I will.”

That was the last thing you wanted, you needed Wonwoo right now.

Instead of answering him, you surged forward, tugging on the collar of his shirt to bring his lips down to yours again. This time, it was you who deepened the kiss, pressing your body against his in a way that made his breath stutter.

“Shit,” he muttered against your mouth, his hand sliding beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing over the skin of your waist. He wasn’t rushing anything—just feeling, mapping out every reaction, every sharp inhale, every soft noise you let slip past your lips.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and Wonwoo let out a strained curse under his breath before pressing his lips to your neck, trailing heated kisses along your jawline. 

“Didn’t think you’d ever let me get this close,” he murmured, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Felt generous today.” You replied casually, trying to hide your nerves.

His low chuckle vibrated against your throat, and then his teeth grazed against your pulse point, making your fingers dig into his shoulders. “How lucky of me.”

Your mind was sent into a frenzy—you didn’t know where this was leading to. But the way his hands were gripping your waist, combined with the heat of his kisses, you knew that this was something neither of you wanted to stop anytime soon.

And, judging by the way he whispered your name before claiming your lips again, you weren’t going to.

Wonwoo’s lips were relentless, moving against yours like a starved man. Every touch, every press of his fingers against your skin was filled with desire or frustration—one of the two, the weight of whatever had been building between you for far too long taking over.

But then came a sharp knock at the door.

Your entire body tensed. Wonwoo stilled too, his breath fanning against your neck as you both listened—a beat of silence, then muffled voices passing by in the hallway.

Your heart pounded in fear.

Wonwoo exhaled a quiet laugh, his forehead pressing against yours. “We should—” He sucked in a breath when you shifted against him, his fingers tightening on your hips. “—probably move this to your room.”

It took a second a second for you to fully process what he was saying, your mind still fogged with the way he was pressed against you. But then reality hit—your roommates. If they came home right now, they’d find you both tangled up on the couch, and you would never hear the end of it.

You hesitated, but Wonwoo tilted his head, watching you carefully. “Unless you’re into that…” he teased, voice lower now, rougher.

You glared at him, but the effect was lost when he playfully nipped at your jaw. “Freak,” you muttered, shoving at his shoulder. “Come on.”

There was a flicker of something dark in his eyes before he pulled away from you, allowing you to grab his wrist and lead him to your room.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, Wonwoo had you against it almost immediately.

The kiss that followed was hotter and messier. His hands were a lot bolder now, skimming beneath your shirt, fingers tracing over your heated skin like he was trying to memorize every detail. You gasped against his lips when he grabbed the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up until your legs wrapped around his waist again.

“Fuck,” he muttered, guiding you toward your bed. “You’re making this so hard for me.”

You barely had time to process the words before your back met the mattress, Wonwoo hovering above you, his weight deliciously solid between your thighs, hips rutting up slowly—testing the waters. His lips were on you again in an instant, trailing from your jaw down to your neck, lingering at the sensitive spot just beneath your ear.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, voice husky.

Your breath hitched when his hands slipped up, thumbs brushing just beneath the curve of your ribs. You weren’t sure if he meant the teasing, the back-and-forth banter, or just the fact that you were here now, beneath him, letting this happen. 

Maybe all of it.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. The sound sent a thrill through your body, heat pooling low in your stomach.

“I guess I could say the same about you,” you managed to whisper in response.

Wonwoo chuckled, his nose brushing against your collarbone before he kissed along the exposed skin, each press of his lips making your pulse stutter.

Minutes blurred together—clothes shifted, touches became more desperate. Heat swirled between the two of you, every movement of his pulling you further into the haze of want.

But just as things started to pick up again, Wonwoo suddenly slowed down.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Wonwoo?”

His fingers skimmed along your arm before stopping at your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Are you sure?”

“About?”

“This.” He exhaled sharply, like he was forcing himself to hold back. “I don’t want to rush you, that’s all.”

Your chest tightened at his words.

Despite the heat of the moment, despite how badly you knew he wanted you, he was still thinking about you.

Your fingers trailed up his spine, grounding yourself in the warmth of him. The intensity in his gaze made your stomach flip, but you found yourself nodding. “Please.”

A flicker of something—relief, maybe—crossed his expression before he kissed you again, slower this time, softer.

He pulled away again, but before you could complain, he was already tugging at your sweats and underwear.

You helped him slide them off by moving your hips upward, anxiously waiting for his next move.

Wonwoo sat up, throwing your clothing to the ground. Feeling overly exposed, you tugged at his shirt, wanting him to take it off. Balance it out, you know?

He let out a low chuckle at your insistence but didn’t hesitate to peel his shirt off, tossing it somewhere near your pile. Your fingers instinctively traced over his toned stomach, feeling the heat radiating beneath your touch.

His lips were on you in an instant—starting at your mouth, then trailing down the column of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He took his time pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, then lower, his hands mapping out the curves of your body as he went.

Your breath hitched when he reached your stomach, his lips grazing over sensitive skin. His fingers splayed over your waist, holding you in place as he continued downward, his mouth painting a slow, deliberate path. The anticipation was dizzying, every brush of his lips making you ache for more.

When he finally settled between your thighs, his gaze flickered up to meet yours—searching, waiting for permission.

You quickly nod, needing him now more than ever.

With your approval, he moved his arms down toward your thighs, his fingers gently pressing into the soft flesh, pulling you closer to him. His breath ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he made sure to take his time with you.

He started off slow, pressing fluttering kisses near your cunt, his lips barely brushing the sensitive skin, his touch featherlight. The softness of his kisses was a gentle reminder of the tenderness between you both, teasing as well as coaxing you into the moment.

As the seconds passed, he grew more confident, his mouth finding its rhythm, draggin a long, slow lick up to your clit, the pressure light at first but just enough to make your breath catch. Your body arched instinctively toward him, a soft moan escaping your lips, and you found yourself pulling him closer, urging him on.

Wonwoo’s movements were deliberate and controlled, but there was an undeniable hunger in the way he continued, each kiss, each lick sending waves of pleasure through your body. His tongue circled around you, experimenting, drawing out every inch of pleasure as you melted into the feeling.

You moaned softly, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his tongue moved with purpose, the sensation making your hips instinctively buck upward. Each time his mouth pressed against you, your body trembled, and a heat bloomed deep within you.

Wonwoo’s hands tightened around your thighs, holding you steady as his tongue flicked and teased, bringing you closer to the edge. He was deliberate, each movement calculated, but there was a sense of urgency in the way his lips parted against you, the hunger in his eyes evident as he looked up at you, gauging your reactions.

You could feel the tension building inside of you, coiling tight as he slowly dragged his tongue up again, swirling around your clit before sucking it into his mouth with a steady pull. Your breath hitched at the sensation, the pressure mounting, your chest rising and falling with each sharp inhale.

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “Please, more.”

His eyes darkened at your plea. He didn’t need another invitation. His hands moved up your body, pulling you closer, urging you to open yourself to him fully.

The way his mouth devoured you, his movements were more urgent now; he was like a drug, leaving you with no control over your reactions. You clutched at his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he took you higher and higher. 

You were on the brink, so close, your body tense with anticipation. With one final flick of his tongue, your hips jerked as you reached the edge, a breathless cry escaping you as you finally shattered, your body shaking as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

He didn’t stop; instead, he slowed down, licking you gently, helping you ride out the waves. His mouth soft and tender as he continued to kiss and soothe you, his hands never leaving your body.

As you came down from your high, your body still tingling, Wonwoo didn’t move away. Instead, he pressed lingering kisses along your inner thighs, his lips warm and teasing as he worked his way back up. The slow drag of his mouth against your skin sent another shiver through you, anticipation curling in your stomach all over again.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with something smug yet fond. His hands slid up, fingertips ghosting over your waist before settling on your hips. “Didn’t know you could be this sensitive.”

You wanted to fire back with something, but your brain was too mushy to come up with anything, your body still trying to recover from the way he’d completely unraveled you. Instead, you groaned and weakly pushed at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Wonwoo only chuckled, low and throaty, before he crawled back over you, his weight pressing into you in the best way. His knee slotted between your thighs, his bare chest warm against yours. You barely had a moment to adjust before you felt it—his hard length pressing against your thigh through his sweats.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you shifted slightly, feeling the way he twitched against you. “You’re really worked up, huh?”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched, his arms bracketing your head as he hovered over you. “What do you think?” His voice was strained, deeper, and it sent a thrill down your spine.

To test him, you shifted your hips ever so slightly, dragging against him. He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, his grip on your waist tightening.

“Yn,” he warned, but there was no real threat behind it—just desperation.

Grinning, you reached up, threading your fingers into his hair. His breath hitched as you gave a small tug, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut for a brief second before snapping open again, darker and hungrier than before.

“You like that?” you mused, your voice teasing.

He didn’t answer, but the way he groaned, pressing his hips down against yours in response, told you enough.

“God,” he muttered, dropping his forehead against yours. “You’re going to kill me.”

You giggled but quickly gasped when he rolled his hips again, this time more deliberately, seeking friction. The warmth of him, the weight, the sheer neediness of it all made your head spin.

His hands found yours, fingers slipping between yours as he pinned them against the mattress. His grip was firm, grounding, like he needed to hold onto you just as much as you needed to hold onto him.

“I should make you pay for teasing me,” he murmured, lips brushing against your cheek before trailing lower, nipping at your jawline.

You hummed, squeezing his hands as he continued to kiss his way down your neck. “I think you’re the one who’s suffering here, not me.”

Wonwoo huffed a soft laugh against your skin. “That so?” His hips rutted against you again, a little more desperate this time, his breath coming out uneven. “Feel that?”

You did. You felt all of him—hot and aching against you, his restraint slipping with each passing second.

“Tell me what you want, Yn,” he rasped, lips brushing against your collarbone.

Your breath hitched, your nails digging into his hands. “I think you already know.”

Wonwoo groaned, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he rutted against you again, the friction between you both drawing sharp little gasps from you. His hands released yours, only for one to slip under your shirt, fingers toying with your breast as if he was trying to ground himself with it. The other trailed up your thigh, slow and deliberate, before he hooked it around his waist.

You tangled your fingers in his hair again, tugging just enough to make him hiss. He retaliated by rolling his hips down again, sharper this time, making you whimper in response.

“Still want to tease me?” he murmured against your skin.

You bit your lip, barely holding back a whine. “Maybe.”

He scoffed, tightening his grip on your waist as a warning.

Wonwoo shifted again, suddenly sitting back on his heels, dragging you up with him. His arms wrapped around you, pressing you against his chest as he settled you onto his lap.

“Better,” he mumbled, his hands soothing over your bare thighs as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Easier to hear you like this.” 

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t deny the way your body reacted to his words, the way the need between your legs only grew worse.

His hands slipped under your shirt again, his palms warm against your back, and when he kissed you this time, it was slower, deeper. He let you set the pace, guiding the way your hips moved against his, taking his time with you.

You gasped as his hands roamed, tracing gentle but deliberate patterns along your spine. His kisses grew more languid, as if he wanted to take his time memorizing every inch of you, every shuddering gasp you gave him.

You moved against him again, chasing that intoxicating friction, and he groaned low in his throat, fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough, breath warm against your lips. “You feel so good—”

A shiver wracked through you at his words, the heat between you becoming unbearable. You tugged at his hair again, earning a delicious groan from him as his hips stuttered beneath you.

The rhythm between you both turned desperate, more frantic, your hands clinging to each other as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach. Wonwoo’s forehead dropped against yours, his breaths coming in short, unsteady pants, his grip on you firm as he chased his own high.

“Wonwoo—” his name slipped from your lips, a breathless plea.

“I know,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to your temple, his movements growing more erratic. “I got you, birdy—just let go for me.”

The sound of his voice alone nearly undid you, and when he dipped his hand between you, adding just enough pressure where you needed it most, your body tensed before unraveling completely. A sharp cry left your lips as pleasure crashed over you, your nails biting into his shoulders as you clung to him.

Wonwoo wasn’t far behind. The way you trembled in his arms, the way you moaned his name like it was the only thing you knew—it sent him over the edge, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he buried his face in your neck, riding out his own high. His grip on you tightened before slowly loosening, his breath shaky as he tried to come down from it.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths. Your bodies were still tangled together, skin damp with sweat.

“I’ll be right back,” Wonwoo whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder before slipping out of bed. You watched as he padded out of your room and toward the bathroom. 

He returned a few minutes later, looking more at ease now that he had cleaned himself off. Then, without warning, he flopped back onto the mattress, draping himself over you dramatically.

“Wonwoo—” you groaned, squirming as he pressed his weight against you.

“Shhh,” he murmured against your neck. “Just let me have this.”

“You smell like sweat,” you deadpanned, but your hand was already threading through his hair.

You sighed; your body was still jittery from the intensity of everything, but the pressure of his body against yours was grounding. Wonwoo shifted slightly, pulling you close. His hand moved up to cup your face, thumb brushing along your cheek.

“You good?” His voice softened, and for a moment, the teasing tone melted away.

You hummed in response, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Mhm… just a little tired.”

He chuckled softly, his breath tickling your ear. “Me too.”

You shifted, nuzzling closer to him, and he responded by pulling you even tighter against him, his warmth lulling you deeper into sleep.

And as the night stretched on, with his steady heartbeat beneath your ear and his arms wrapped securely around you, you let yourself relax completely—safe in his warmth.

Silence settled between you, the heat from his body lulling you toward sleep. And just before you drifted off, you swore you felt him press the softest kiss against your forehead.

When you woke up the following morning, the other side of your bed was empty. 

Your heart dropped at the coldness from it. For a second, a pang of something—disappointment? hurt?—settled in your chest. Was this a mistake?

Before you could even wallow in self-pity, you noticed one of your sticky notes clung to your phone.

Had an early shift today. See you on Sunday :)

And while you were conflicted about last night’s events, you couldn’t help the feeling of relief you felt from the note. 

A sigh escaped you as you sank back into the pillows, only to realize that his scent was now embedded in your bed. Great.

Sunday.

You have no idea what to expect when you see him again, but one thing is certain—there is no going back to how things were before, well, not for you at least.

…

Part Four: Coming Soon…

[☻] hiii! i know i already left a note, but i just wanted to shout out @stendy4life for reminding me that people were actually waiting for part 3! also big thanks to @cherry-zip and @facethesunflower (again) for pushing me to finish this part <333

[beloveds-embrace]

duke au angst, but könig isn’t a knight. He’s either not in it and reader just sinks into a pit of depression and withdrawals so much that rumours start speculation around the ton that reader is either dead or murder and it starts to take a toll on john reputation (they start going after why him, simon, johnny and kyle are so close) or a könig is an Austrian duke/way closer to royalty and when he’s over for business with John and/or simon, he and the reader hit it off (much to the boys dismay) and reader plans on leaving without a word, leaving nothing more than a vague letter that details why and a set of divorce papers (helped achieved by könig) and by the time they realise their mistake readers already living the high life in austria

….okay but the first one’s got me downright obsessed, anon 😩 second one too and i feel like i will absolutely end up caving and writing it later but for now, have this!

Angst dukedom post

Non-angst dukedome post(no konig in this one)

No but seriously, there is only so much you can take. Between everyone’s dismissal of you, the lack of any meaningful company, the loneliness- it was only a matter of time before you just… can’t do it anymore.

The change, though it starts slow, is impossible to hide. You stop having dinner with John, finding no solace in the taste of lukewarm, half-heartedly prepared food. You tell yourself it’s not worth it- the stilted conversations, the empty looks, the way his eyes always drift to anything but you. He’s too busy sharing hidden glances with Kyle, exchanging quiet touches with Johnny when he hand delivers the food, speaking to Simon with an intensity that has never been for you.

You stop attending the endless galas and balls you are meant expected to attend as the Duchess. You withdraw from the tea parties, from every suffocating event where you were paraded as nothing more than an ornament on Duke Price’s arm. You withdraw from the public eye itself.

Instead, you drift through the duchy, through the rooms that are suddenly empty when you arrive. You drift to and fro, in a haze of lonelinthat and slow-setting exhaustion.

The maids whispered of you before, but it used to be out of your earshot; now, you can hear them clearly, none of them afraid of being punished when not even your own husband can stand your sight. They mutter about how sickly you look, how your eyes are dull and lifeless.

She’s wasting away.

Maybe it’s for the best.

No one can love someone who fades into the walls.

But of course, the whispers aren’t just within the duchy. Rumors ripple out beyond the duchy’s walls-

The Duchess has gone mad, they say. Locked away by her husband, for her own good.

She ran away in the dead of night, they say. Couldn’t bear her husband’s coldness. Maybe he drove her to it.

He’s always with Duke Riley, isn’t he? Or the butler. Or the chef.

Poor thing. No wonder she vanished.

All of it gnaws and bites at John’s reputation, at yours, but he never comes to you and it doesn’t surprise you at all. He would rather find a way to bury it all then simply check on you. The facade has always been more important, and he keeps it with half-hearted excuses half-believed by some and dismissed by others.

But they are relentless, and soon they taint every interaction he has. No one meets him without a hint of suspicion in their eyes. How much of it is true, they seem to ask. What did you do to her? Is she really gone? She was a good woman, how could you do that to her? There is more scrutiny now on the time he spends with Simon, with Kyle, with Johnny. He starts to avoid public events himself, unwilling to face the relentless gossip that hangs over him now like a dark cloud.

Eventually, you stop dressing for the day, leaving your hair unkempt, your gowns crumpled and out of style. No one comes to check on you, the maids happy at having less work, and you tell yourself that you prefer it that way. No eyes to judge. No lips to lie. The solitude is nothing new, even if it’s never been this severe before.

Time blurs, too. You stop looking at the newspapers when they stop being delivered. The days mean nothing when every morning brings only a new kind of numbness, and some days you spend entirely in bed, too tired to even think about taking a step outside.

Yet, even with your noticeable absence, nothing changes. No one knocks on your door, not even once. No one checks to see if you’re eating, breathing, surviving. You feel so achingly lonely.

John doesn’t approach you once. You have become a specter, more distant than ever. And though he and the others feel a creeping sense of guilt- Kyle finds himself lingering outside your door, only to turn away with clenched fists; Johnny’s jokes die in his throat when he hears your name; Simon stares at the spot you used to take during the dinners and lunches he’d join; John stares at the very few portraits of you that line the walls and wonders how he’d even go about approaching you- none of them move to truly mend the gaping distance between you. They regret their neglect, but they do not know how to fix it. Or maybe they are simply too late.

dukedom au masterlist Part Two: Fix-it