Forgive me. And if you have it in your heart, forgive yourself into existence. If death is not to be, then consider this: while you are alive, what recourse do you have but to live?
Tumblr is rolling out a new reblog/notes system that completely disregards creators. In their new system, they're taking a twitter-style approach where reblogs will have their own notes that DO NOT contribute to the original post's notes.
Because of this, creators will no longer be able to see an accurate display of likes/reblogs/etc. This is completely altering the way feedback and responses to works are going to be received on this website.
If you come across a fan work that you enjoy, please take the extra step to go to OPs original post, and leave your comment/like/reblog there. Or go one step further and send an ask to OP directly to tell them what you liked!
I really hope Tumblr staff reverses course and reverts to the original reblog system for the sake of the large base of creators who use this site to share their works, but until then, please be considerate and make sure the creators here see/feel the love.
The Death of the Digital Ecosystem: Why Decoupling Notes Destroys Tumblr
@staff
For years, the total note count on a post served as a universal metric of a piece of content's impact. Whether a user liked the original post or a reblog fifteen branches deep, that engagement flowed back to the source. This ensured that the original artist, writer, or editor received the full credit for the viral success of their work.
Under this new system, engagement is trapped within the specific reblog a user happens to see on their dashboard. If a massive, high-traffic blog reblogs a piece of art from a small creator, every like and reblog that occurs through that larger account stays with them. The original creator is left with a stagnant note count on their own dashboard while their work generates thousands of interactions for someone else.
Erasure of Creator Visibility
Instead of seeing one post with 10,000 notes, a creator may now have to hunt through dozens of different reblog chains to find where the conversation is actually happening.
If the notes no longer flow back to the original post, the creator loses the ability to see who is enjoying their work, what the tags say, and how the community is responding.
On a platform where engagement often dictates visibility, splitting that engagement into tiny, unlinked fractions makes it significantly harder for original works to gain momentum compared to the high-reach blogs that reblog them.
Incentivizing the "Big Blog" Monopoly
This system rewards accounts that have already established a large following at the direct expense of the smaller accounts that actually produce the content. It transforms reblogging from a method of sharing into a method of acquisition.
When a reblog functions as its own independent post with its own note count, the incentive to click through to the original source disappears. The platform is transitioning from a collaborative ecosystem into a standard social media feed where the person who posts the content last—not the person who made it—reaps the rewards.
Impact on Collaborative Conversations
Tumblr’s unique culture is built on the reblog chain: a chronological, evolving conversation. By allowing users to like or reblog "any part" of the chain as an independent entity, the platform is breaking the narrative thread.
If engagement is siloed into specific branches, the incentive to add to a conversation is replaced by an incentive to simply own a piece of the engagement. This change doesn't encourage conversation. It encourages the commodification of individual posts within a chain, making it harder for the original voice to ever be heard over the noise of the rebloggers.
The Disincentive to Create
Perhaps the most damaging aspect of this update is the psychological toll on the creative community. When the platform actively diverts credit and engagement away from the source, it destroys the motivation to share original work at all.
For many, the reward for posting is seeing how far their work travels. If that travel is now invisible or attributed to others, the labor of creating becomes thankless.
This system makes creators want to share nothing. If the platform is built to harvest a creator's effort for the benefit of curator blogs, the logical response is to stop providing the raw material. I am one leaning into this category. Without us creators, the curator blogs have nothing to curate.
By making it harder to protect and track one's own work, the platform is effectively telling creators that their presence is secondary to the conversations happening around their work: conversations they may no longer even be able to find.
SOURCES: All references in this work and future installments of Through the Darkness to Allomancy are credit to Brandon Sanderson and the Cosmere. His brilliant mind gave birth to this magic system. I have taken liberties with it to suit our universe (and with a large amount of curiosity on the specifics of metals affecting their users). Development of this series happened with mostly the original Mistborn trilogy in mind, while only eras 1 and 2 were published and before my own reading of Wax and Wayne. For more information, please look here, here and here. Be wary of spoilers. If you like Allomancy, please read Mistborn and get in my DMs. Please.
STORY SUMMARY: After Hongjoong's disappearance and Seonghwa's death, your best friend has become a different person. Wooyoung's usually vibrant personality is shrouded, though the storm surrounding him seems to disappear as quickly as it manifested. You don't question it much… Until you have to.
RATING: mature, MDNI
GENRE: angst, smut, not enough fluff to make up for it
PAIRING: wooyoung x reader, attempted yeosang x reader & woosang
AU/TROPE: nonidol au, dystopian au, steampunk au, mistborn au kind of
WORD COUNT: 14.8k
WARNINGS: alcohol usage, smut, discussions of polyamory, yn thinks wy is cheating for a second, general vigilante things, politics
A/N: aaaaand she's done! after two years of work, this beauty finally gets to see the light of day. i'm very happy with how it's turned out, though i swear rereading it to edit was torture. tune in over on @cybrsan for the next installment!
LINKS: masterlist | join my taglist
BANNER CREDIT: @kwanisms
smut warnings under the cut.
pt. 1 | read on ao3
smut warnings: your honor they're in love and it's gross, so much praise, wooyoung will not shut up, first times, virgin!reader, experienced!wooyoung, oral (fem receiving), riding, unprotected sex (don't)
YEAR: 1020
Wooyoung can’t sleep. It’s becoming a more common occurrence lately, his mind spinning in circles and more restless than it’s ever been, but tonight he feels watched. The unseen gaze feels familiar somehow as he roams the streets just outside the Inner Ring. Things are more open here and with the guard towers every two blocks, he should feel safe. Each time he burns his zinc, he can only feel the increasingly familiar boredom of the guards. There’s no one there, he tells himself.
Still, he can’t shake the feeling. He runs out of zinc before he can figure out a way to lure the watcher out or calm himself, and he curses quietly. He should have brought something to replenish his reserves so he didn’t leave himself exposed like this. Breathing a frustrated sigh, he turns away from the Inner Ring, deciding home is safer than outside.
He’s halfway back when the presence makes itself known, a shrouded figure stepping out of the shadows in a way that puts all his senses on high alert. “I need to speak with you,” the figure says, their voice distantly familiar.
“You’re the one watching me,” Wooyoung mutters, taking a step back. He’s still close enough, he can run to grab the guards—
“I did always like to keep an eye on my favorite dongsaeng. You’re free entertainment.” Wooyoung stops. The figure looks up, pulling their hood back just enough to reveal familiar features that remind him of an elf in an old world storybook, even hardened as they are.
“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung breathes. “You’re alive.”
He breathes a little chuckle. “And we have much to discuss.”
“About what? Where would we even start? What happened, where have you been, why—”
“Wooyoung. You’re right,” the blond says. “About a lot of things. But we can’t have this conversation here.” His eyes dart nervously around them before he jerks his head back toward the Outer Ring. “Come on.”
With one final glance around, Wooyoung follows, a wild grin plastered on his face.
When the darkness that seems to have been consuming Wooyoung lifts, you and Yeosang are equally bewildered. It happens overnight—it’s like the shadow that followed him around after Hongjoong’s disappearance never existed. In private, you question it, but both decide to leave it be. Wooyoung’s moods have always been intense, and you know that use of his Allomancy only amplifies that. Better to let it lie, you think; appreciate the return of your best friend and not question it.
Luxe remains wary of him, though, frequently questioning you about why you were seen with him and whether he’s still in his “spiral.” You assure them he’s not, though you can’t quite be sure—you’ve interrupted quickly cut off conversations between him and Yeosang recently about some little passion project they’ve apparently picked up. Yeosang always looks a little more reserved and thoughtful, though Wooyoung seems to remain the same amount of excitable every time you see him. He’ll meet you with bright grins that make your heart flutter, and from time to time, it almost feels like you’re kids again. Wooyoung doesn’t spout anymore strange theories once he picks up his pet project and finally, on a night you’re sure Luxe will be out until morning with the Watch, you invite them back to your house for the first time in what feels like years. They slip in through the back door, and you feel like teenagers as you make your way upstairs. It’s a weekend, so they’ve come stocked with snacks and booze to while the night away, and it only amplifies the feeling. It feels like a sleepover.
You’re sandwiched between the boys, leaning on Yeosang’s shoulder while Wooyoung’s head is pillowed in your lap. Wooyoung is grinning up at you, and you can feel Yeosang’s shoulders shaking with laughter. You can’t remember exactly what was so funny, but your cheeks hurt from smiling, and you pinch Wooyoung’s side playfully. He yelps, grabbing your hand, still grinning.
“You swear you’re not Rioting us?”
Wooyoung laughs a little, rolling his eyes. “I ran out of zinc hours ago, and I didn’t bring anything to replace it. I don’t need to Riot you two! We’ve always been like this.”
You all fall into another fit of giggles, though Yeosang shrugs you off a moment later to use the bathroom. You and Wooyoung calm a little, and after a moment, you can feel your cheeks heating as you realize that your fingers are still tangled with his. His eyes are hazy and his cheeks are flushed—he’s blinking up at you lazily, something fond dancing in his eyes that makes butterflies take flight in your stomach.
“Y/N,” he says, soft and warm. “I think I might be in love with you.”
Whatever reaction you give him pulls another giggle from him that makes your heart flutter. He’s still beaming up at you, and you think you could stay like this forever and be the happiest person on the planet.
“You’re drunk, Woo.”
“And in love.”
“Wooyoung—”
“No, listen, I’m serious,” he insists, sitting up and meeting your eyes with an intensity that startles you. “I’d say this sober too, I… I really think I’m in love with you. Have been for years. But… I’m so afraid of ruining things between us that I haven’t said anything. You and Yeosang are my best friends and if I lost one of you I… I don’t know what I’d do, honestly. So I've been terrified to say anything, but…” He looks at your joined hands and takes a deep breath. “Would you do me the honor of taking you on a date some time?”
He’s staring at you with an intensity that makes you feel like you’re going to melt into a puddle, gaze open and honest in a way you haven’t seen since you were children. Cheeks and ears on fire, you nod.
“Yes. I'd like that.”
He gives a little cheer as Yeosang returns, earning a raised eyebrow from your friend. “Y/N-ie is letting me take her on a date.”
Something flickers behind Yeosang’s eyes. You can't quite place it in your addled state, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. “Gross. Now I have to third wheel.”
“I’ll give you kisses too if you want.”
Yeosang makes a face and holds out a hand as Wooyoung leans across you, lips puckered. One good shove sends the red-head sprawling out in a fit of giggles. It's infectious once again.
Before you know it, the first rays of light are peeking over the horizon, and you can see what looks like the squad Luxe usually leads cross back into the Inner Sector. Wooyoung and Yeosang are both dozing a little beside you, but they're easy enough to wake with a little nudge.
“Time to go.”
Wooyoung pouts but doesn’t protest, and you follow them downstairs, seeing them both off out the back door with hugs. Perfect execution, you think, finally snuggling into bed just as you hear the front door open, followed by the sound of footsteps as Luxe makes their way upstairs.
There’s a knock at your bedroom door then, and you pale a little as Luxe cracks it open. “Tell your boyfriends that they don’t need to hide in our bushes just because I’m coming home.”
You balk at them for a moment as they shut the door, cheeks ablaze, then call after them, “They’re not my boyfriends!”
YEAR: 1021
Your statement doesn't hold true for very long. One date with Wooyoung turns into two and three, until finally you find yourself beginning to attend events on his arm. He’s just as much of a social butterfly as he was when you first met him, but now, with zinc bolstering his prize-winning smiles and echoing laughter, it feels like it’s been amplified tenfold. He’s the center of attention at every event he organizes, flitting around between the guests and making sure they’re satisfied. His touch is subtle, but you can see its effects in almost every interaction. He always asks after what guests are enjoying, and as the Soothers on his team dampen negative emotions, he Pulls on positive ones. You don’t think you’ve ever heard of anyone walking away from any of them unhappy.
His family welcomes you with open arms, inviting you along to various functions with them as well. You see more of Luxe than you have in years as you attend ceremonies for the Vanguard as a guest of their drill instructor. Kyung-soo seems proud to see you next to his son, frequently pulling your sibling into conversations with a familiarity that shocks you at first. But, you reason, Luxe did go through the Vanguard program like every other Nightingale honoree. It makes General Nightingale a more frequent figure in your life as well, and you can tell she hasn’t forgotten Wooyoung’s words from that night so long ago. Her glare is piercing and ripe with disapproval every time she sees the pair of you arm-in-arm. You catch more than one heated, quiet discussion between her and your sibling, glancing over to you, and each time it makes a chill run down your spine.
Wooyoung is in tune with you, though, and every time your fingers tighten around your champagne flute, he sweeps you away for a dance or to mingle.
“Don’t mind her,” he mutters one evening as you’re pressed together. “She’s playing politics.”
You understand what that means now better than you did on the night of your first Symposium party. It makes you frown. “With Luxe? Why?”
He’s quiet for a long moment before chuckling softly. You feel it rather than hear it. “I wouldn’t want to say anything that would get me in trouble, jagiya.”
It’s bliss. Six months of joy, of Wooyoung visiting you at work, of attending his parties, pulling you away every chance he gets to press heated, open-mouthed kisses to your throat. It’s a bit overwhelming, but the part of you that remembers what living in the Outer Sector was like is overjoyed. Your promise to Yeosang stays true too; when the three of you spend time together, it’s almost like nothing has changed. You and Wooyoung have never been able to help but be affectionate with each other and, aside from sharing quick kisses, it’s not that different. You both still sling your arms around Yeosang’s shoulders, end up in piles on the floor, and Yeosang still flinches away when the ever-affectionate Wooyoung chases his cheek for a kiss.
Still, something in Yeosang seems to shift. You swear some days that he looks sad at the sight of your fingers interlocked with Wooyoung’s, even when you grab his hand in the next moment. It never lasts long—you’ll blink and he’ll be sniping at Wooyoung with some teasing remark instead—but it happens more frequently as the months wear on, and it sticks with you.
You try to bringing it up to Wooyoung, but with each passing day, he seems to grow busier. His mind seems to be elsewhere when you’re together, and those moments alone become less and less frequent. Dates are planned and missed, or shot down entirely.
“I’m sorry, jagi,” he says after the third time. To his credit, he does look pained about it, and you can’t feel his touch on your emotions as you melt a little. “I just have a lot going on at the moment. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
He does try. Wooyoung has always been a gift giver; he’s outfitted you with a whole new wardrobe already thanks to your never-ending event schedule—”I need everyone to see you the way I do. Gold in a world of iron and pewter.” —so he sends you jewelry, little pieces of tech, or old world books instead. Pricey each time, and clearly thought through as deeply as anything else he does, but…
It gets old. If he’s thinking through these gifts so deeply, why can’t he be present with you when you’re together? Why can he find time to go to the shops, but not to see you?
You’ve tried dropping in on him the same way that he did to you at the start of your relationship, but his co-workers at the civil offices know as little as you do.
“Last I heard, he was out location scouting. He’s pushing this a little close to the deadline, isn’t he?”
They’re right. Wooyoung’s contract says he’s supposed to organize something, no matter how small, every few weeks. It’s been almost a month, and you’ve seen him maybe twice in that time, never for longer than an hour.
You need to talk to him.
You’re on your way to do exactly that when you find the gift that becomes your breaking point. The necklace he’s gifted you this time is delicate, in line with your preferences. No other Inner Sector lady would wear something so simple, and your heart does a little flip at how perfect it is, how thoughtful he is. The chain is a simple silver one and the pendant is shaped like a teardrop, a thin line of silver securing a set of glowing silver fish scales that catch the light beautifully. You smile a little while you turn it over in your hands, then freeze. A familiar stamp is set into the back of the pendant; a stylized I.K. Hands shaking a little, you pick up the box it was resting in a moment ago, peeling off the wrapping to reveal the same stamp you’d seen so often in your childhood; every time your father came home with something for your mother, every time you ventured to the market by the docks.
Ilya had been such a kind man; he’d let your father lift you onto the counter to see his selections while you picked something new for your mother and helped you and Luxe make your first purchase for her after they’d saved up for months to buy her something nice, hoping it would ease some of the ache of your father’s passing. You’re happy that the jeweler is still in business, but it begs a different question; what is Wooyoung doing in the Outer Sector?
His aurvox rings through. Expectedly, Yeosang’s doesn’t. You only feel a little bad about the way you bite off his greeting.
“Where is Wooyoung?”
He’s quiet for a beat. “He should be at home.”
“But he’s not, is he?”
Another pause. “Have you checked?”
Yeosang is a terrible liar.
“Only every day for the past three cursed weeks. And now, I’m holding onto his latest gift and I’d like to know what exactly he’s doing in the Outer Sector. I know you two have your little secret pet project, so I’m calling you.”
Silence.
You take a deep, shaky breath. “Yeosang. Please. I need to know what’s going on.”
He sighs. “I’ll send him your way.”
“You’re with him?! Are you f—”
“No,” he cuts in, and you’re a little surprised at the bite behind it. “If he was here, I’d hand the aurvox to him. You deserve an explanation, Y/N. I’ll make sure you get one.”
He sounds so resolute, so determined and a little angry. It feels… nice. Validating. “Thank you, Sangie.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry he’s been… this way.”
“Me too.”
Wooyoung comes to you an hour later, looking flustered and a little disheveled, in clothes you didn’t even know he owned. As long as you’ve known him, he’s at least looked the picture perfect vision of an Inner Sector man. Sure, he’ll come to your hangouts with Yeosang or casual dates in comfortable clothes, but they’re still made and mended by Inner Sector artisans. It’s a far cry from the work boots, dusty cargo pants and worn shirt he’s currently in. There’s a cowl settled around his shoulders, and you can’t comprehend the sight before you.
He won’t meet your eyes. Your boyfriend looks shamed as he steps into your living room, and you’re so stunned that you let him pass, shutting the door behind him. The necklace is still clutched in your hand. You’ve been staring at it since you opened it, but now you can’t take your eyes off of him. He looks like a different person.
“Wooyoung,” you manage, thumbing at the fish scale pendant. Did the scales come from Donghyun’s stall? “What’s going on?”
He runs a hand through his hair, pacing the living room. Blessings, it’s a good thing Luxe isn’t here to see this.
You hold up the necklace. “This is from the Outer Sector.”
He stops, eyes locked onto it, and nods.
“You’ve been in the Outer Sector and haven’t told me? Why? How?”
His eyes dart around warily, like he’s expecting something to jump out at him. “Not here.”
“Like I’m going anywhere with you after—”
“Y/N.” His tone reeks of desperation and he looks a moment away from sprinting out the door forever, but he holds your gaze, insistent and pleading. “Not here. I can’t explain here, but I know where I can. Let me show you. Please.”
“Okay.”
The moment you’re out the door again, he morphs. It’s the only word that describes the drastic shift in Wooyoung’s demeanor, the way he goes from looking like a kicked puppy to the charming event coordinator you’ve grown to love. Once or twice, you try to ask him questions, but he cuts you off with sharp glares each time, so you bite your tongue. He walks with the same confidence he holds at events as he leads you toward the center of the Inner Sector, skirting the wall the whole way. There’s not much here apart from guards and the wall itself, so it’s not anywhere you’ve bothered to explore, but you can see signs of wear as he leads you along. Some of the bricks are crumbling and the little gates that were once meant to ease travel are boarded up—nowadays, the only ways in or out of the Ring are the North and South gates. Automatons are patrolling, of course, and as you pass a third one, Wooyoung pulls up his hood and the fabric in front of his face then slows his pace, some of the darkness you saw when he arrived seeping back into his body.
Once the automaton is a fair distance away, he steps up to the wall, pauses, then takes the final few steps toward the dilapidated gate in front of you. With one little pull to a board that you know is supposed to be keeping it shut, the gate swings open.
“Come on.”
You can’t help but hesitate, and Wooyoung glances about anxiously.
“Y/N, please.”
Despite the appearance he gives off—someone that, if you hadn’t known him for years, you would avoid with every fiber of your being—his voice is desperate and bordering on afraid. You dart through the gate. This is Wooyoung; no matter what conspiracies he spouts, he’s never led you into danger. He’s protected you as well as he can from the intricacies and evils of life in the Inner Sector, just like Luxe has.
He follows you in the next breath, and you feel yourself relax. It’s short-lived, though, as his hand finds the small of your back and presses you forward. It’s reminiscent of the way he guides you through crowds at events, but this time it feels more urgent, and you understand why as you catch a flash of a gold patrol automaton in the corner of your vision. After a few turns toward the coastline and once you’re out of sight of the wall, he sheds his hood and relaxes a little.
“I’m sorry I’ve been dodgy lately,” he says finally. “There’s… been a lot going on.”
“Obviously.”
You’re a little surprised when he chuckles. His pace is lazier now that you’re in the Outer Sector, and you suppose you can understand why. People pass you by without a second thought the same way they always have, bustling about to make their livings before the sun sets and the Sector Watch start to enforce curfew. It’s strangely comforting.
Wooyoung slows, leaning against the wall of a vacant shop, the signage faded with age. He sighs heavily.
“I don’t really know how to explain all of this,” he says, digging the toe of his boot into the dirt. Frustration rolls off of him in waves, intense enough that you’re a little worried he’ll Riot the whole block into the same mood. “I didn’t want to involve you in the first place—”
“Why not?” You snap. “What’s so bad—”
“Dangerous,” he cuts in, finally meeting your eyes with a look that reminds you a little too much of Luxe warning you to keep your distance from this very man. “Not bad. Dangerous.” He takes a deep, unsteady breath.
“You’re precious. You deserve the world and then some—all of the riches of Jupiter and beyond. And if anything happened to you…” he trails off, shaking his head, then takes in another sharp breath. “I found out that I’m right a few months before we started seeing each other. The Symposium is keeping so much from us.” You start to cut him off, but he holds up a hand. “I’m not crazy, I swear it. We have proof. But there’s a reason I haven’t told you. Knowing these things, seeing the proof firsthand… It’s stressful. I thought about it every day for week straight the first time I learned of it. And if anyone important finds out you know, there’s a target on your back. Jagiya,” he takes your hands in his. “The things I’m going to show you, the things I’ve already shown you, you can’t tell anyone about. Not even Luxe.”
It feels like your chest is going to explode, it’s so tight. Wooyoung’s gaze is locked onto yours, filled with a combination of hesitance, hopefulness and the ever-present determination. All you feel is your own roiling anxiety and confusion, so you know he’s not Rioting you to feel more comfortable; he would never.
He’s still your Wooyoung.
“Promise me,” he breathes.
“I promise.”
He doesn’t grin at your response but he does smile, still looking a little weary and concerned. With a kiss to your forehead, he steps toward the door of the shop, eyes darting about to make sure the alley is clear. “Okay. Come on then.”
The building is barren inside save for the counter, clearly picked through by some combination of the shop owners themselves and Scrappers. Only one door remains closed and it has no knob, so you’re stunned when it swings open in response to the rhythmic pattern Wooyoung taps on the counter. The man behind it eyes you warily but says nothing as Wooyoung leads you down a set of stairs that are more like a ladder.
You'd heard stories of bunkers like this before, built for shelter during the raids of the Outer Sector Rebellion. The walls and ceiling are a thick concrete, made to both block out the use of Allomancy from outside of it and protect against automaton blasts. Out of curiosity, you burn your steel, looking up toward the ceiling to see if you can detect any blue lines that would lead up to the street above. Nothing. It's been converted into some sort of base, it looks like. Maps are tacked on the walls and spread on the tables that fill the vast room, marked with various colors of ink and symbols you can't begin to decipher the meaning of. Shelves that might have once been for food are filled with file folders and journals instead, cluttered and jammed tight to the point of bowing.
Wooyoung shifts anxiously beside you as you take it in, your eyes drifting from the walls to the ceiling to the shelves and finally landing on a familiar face, doe eyes looking up at you warily.
“You told me you weren’t with him,” you huff at Yeosang, frowning.
He barely looks up from the map he’s annotating. “I wasn’t. He was out on a supply run.”
“Supply run? What would you need supplies for? Wooyoung, what is this?!”
“The answer to that depends on how much you’re going to tell that brother of yours.”
You nearly jump out of your skin, whirling around at the sound of a new voice. Behind you, it seems the base continues on, a dimly lit corridor stretching out behind none other than Kim Hongjoong. You hadn’t heard anything to give away the Tineye’s approach, and you force back a shiver. His eyes are sharp and calculated as they take you in then meet yours once more. He looks more rugged than when you last saw him, exhausted in a way Inner Sector life could never bring you and sporting a few more scars.
“She already said she wouldn’t say anything,” Wooyoung huffs.
“That was before she saw all of this. It's a lot, and it wouldn’t be the first time a new face has been overwhelmed by it.”
You sigh, taking it in for a long moment. “Are you killing or hurting anyone?”
Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. “Not if we don't have to. Sometimes violence is necessary to secure supplies or if we cross paths with Technomancers, but I can’t think of any run-ins that have been lethal.” He pauses. “To be honest, I think I did more killing in the Vanguard than I ever will here.”
“And why exactly does all of this,” you gesture to the room, “exist in the first place?”
“Because the Symposium is trying very hard to rip autonomy away from everyone who disagrees with them or doesn’t meet their standards. I’ve seen it firsthand and been a part of the problem before. Now, I’m doing everything I can to make up for that and bring a stop to their insanity.”
You take a deep breath. “Sounds like a good enough cause to me. I won’t tell Luxe, but I reserve the right to if things go off the rails.”
Surprisingly, Hongjoong chuckles. “Sounds fair to me.” He steps around you and your boyfriend, then gestures grandly to the commandeered bunker behind him. “Welcome to the New Paradigm. We’re a group of Allomancers looking to bring down the Symposium, expose the corruption within it, the Nexus, and the Speakers, and put a stop to what they call Operation Utopia.”
“What’s Operation Utopia?”
Hongjoong’s jaw sets and his gaze darkens. For a moment, fear crawls up your spine, fearing you’ve asked too much. Then, he breathes out a frustrated sigh. “We aren’t certain. It involves the implantation of a parasite into a subject. I was told it would enhance my Allomancy and general physical prowess when I was volunteered for the project, but I don’t believe that for a second. What it actually does…” He runs a hand over his face. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“But it can’t be anything good,” Wooyoung adds. “We’ve been tracking patterns of the flu that came out of nowhere years ago, and we think there’s some sort of connection.”
“I just can’t put my finger on what exactly.” Hongjoong huffs another sigh. “If I’d stuck around longer, we’d have more answers beyond just General Nightingale and Speaker Park’s involvement and the bare bones of the procedure.”
“If you’d stuck around the Nexus any longer, your brain would have been worm food,” Yeosang pipes up, his tone surprisingly venomous. “Happy birthday, here’s your pet parasite. Have fun!”
All three of you look a little bewildered at the outburst. Yeosang shrugs, just as the door on the floor above creaks open again. Two figures drop down from the ladder in similar clothing to Wooyoung, pulling gloves from their hands.
“Good haul today; all hands on deck!” The taller one calls, his voice booming through the room and echoing into the halls. Within them, you begin to hear movement as people respond to the call, filtering into the main room and up the ladder. “You especially, Jung. You can’t fuck off mid-run just to come back to base and expect no consequences.”
There's something familiar about the way the man speaks and holds himself, though you can't quite put your finger on what. His voice alone makes you think he’s probably a dockworker, carrying so easily and laced with an Outer Sector drawl that reminds you of the smell of saltwater and fish.
“I didn’t just… fuck off back here; I have a girlfriend to reassure,” Wooyoung huffs, pressing a kiss to your head before stepping away to help.
“What poor girl would ever let you—”
It feels like time slows as the shorter newcomer meets your gaze and you find yourself starting into familiar, wide brown eyes that haven't changed a bit since the day you met Jongho. He pulls his hood and cowl down, then smacks the man beside him, who yelps with the force of it.
“Don’t hit me while you’re still burning—”
“Mingi. Shut the fuck up.” He follows his brother’s gaze as the younger takes a step toward you. His hood and cowl get the same treatment Jongho’s did and you feel your heart soar. Wooyoung, halfway to the ladder, has stopped in his tracks, gaze narrowed.
“Y/N,” Jongho breathes, looking and sounding as awe-struck as you feel.
“Is that really you?”
You nod, laughing a little at the absurdity of the situation and the joy rising in your chest. Breaking into matching grins, the pair rush you, Jongho scooping you up with surprising strength and Mingi swaying with you as he presses you up against his chest.
“Holy shit!”
“It’s been like ten years!”
“I thought I’d never see you guys again, what in Jupiter’s name—”
“I take it you three know each other,” Wooyoung hums, the tension in his body disappearing.
You step back from Mingi with a nod, grinning and wiping away tears of joy. “We were friends before I moved. Or, as close as we could get with the pace of life here. Obviously, we weren’t allowed to leave the Ring as kids, and I was finally about to have time to come visit when the travel restrictions went out…” You laugh, stunned, and turn back to the brothers. “I thought I was never going to see you guys again!”
“Same here, honestly,” Jongho agrees, still beaming. Then he pauses. “Wait, if you’re here, does that mean you’re joining us?”
You hesitate for a moment, then shake your head. “I don’t think so. Luxe is still Watch Master and I wouldn’t want to put them at risk by playing vigilante. Working in the Nexus, too, means I should keep a low profile. Besides, I’m not really used to life out here anymore. I might be around, since I do enjoy spending time with my boyfriend and friends, but I don’t think I’d be much help to the cause.”
He frowns a little but nods in understanding as Mingi pouts.
“We have so much to catch up on.”
Hongjoong, arms laden with packages that had been dropped to the floor of the bunker, clears his throat. “You’ll have all the catch up time you want after we unload. Come on, before the patrols hit.”
It’s a joyous night once they finish. You all sit down in the common area—Hongjoong included at the boys’ insistence—and swap stories. Mingi still hasn’t heard from their older brother in years, which sends a little pang of hurt on his behalf through you. You fill them in on life in the Inner Sector; how you met Wooyoung and Yeosang and how well taken care of you are now. Wooyoung pulls you close, looking impossibly fond. Jongho fakes a gag, telling you that you need to raise your standards. Even Yeosang and Hongjoong laugh at the stories you reminisce over and how worried you were about Wooyoung, that his gift from the Outer Sector is what tipped you off.
“Something from Ilya’s shop or Soo-ah’s. Those were always Dad's go-to gifts,” you hum, turning the necklace over in your hand. “How is Yunho?”
Jongho and Mingi share a look and the mood dims. “We don’t see much of him these days. He’s a Technomancer, and he… He’s part of a group that’s like the New Paradigm, but for Technomancers. We're kind of rivals.”
It takes a moment for you to process the words. You’ve spent so many years in the Inner Sector, watching Adepts work side by side regardless of their Affinity, that the stark divide in the Outer Sector feels alien. You remember now, though. Being the daughter of a rising Allomancer had brought scorn from both those who resented your father for his work on the watch and those who held contempt for Allomancers for one reason or another. The set of Jongho’s jaw now and the way he won’t meet your eyes, his leg bouncing furiously, only deepens the pit in your stomach as memories flood back. Your father turning you away from a man with a strange look in his eye and a device around his wrist, tech crushed to scrap with braced Pushes, whispered words from a young Mingi as he explained why Jongho stared at that cute little puppy automaton like it was going to bite him.
You shiver, arms wrapping around yourself. “I’d forgotten how bad it was. I’m sorry. That’s…” You shake your head, at a loss. The boys had been inseparable, once upon a time.
“It is what it is,” Jongho huffs. “He made his choice, we made ours.”
Mingi squirms a little, and you swear he and Yeosang share a look, but it’s gone before you can be sure.
Something heavy settles over the room, but before you can find a way to break it, your aurvox pings. You frown and pull it from its place at your waist, eyes widening at the time and the message from your sibling. You curse under your breath and smack Wooyoung on the shoulder.
“We’re about to be late for your brother’s banquet!”
He huffs a sigh and pouts a little as he looks up at you. “We could skip it.”
“Because the Watch Master wondering where we are is any better? I’m going. And if you leave me to bat Junghwa off of Luxe all night alone, I’ll never forgive you.”
To that, he concedes. Wooyoung sighs and stands. “Alright. I’ll see you guys later. I have appearances to keep up.” He squeezes Hongjoong’s shoulder on the way out and, as your eyes follow the movement, you can’t help but notice how the man’s demeanor has darkened. He gives Wooyoung some sort of half-smile.
“Y/N, come visit soon, please,” Mingi calls as both he and Jongho stand to give you hugs.
“I will,” you assure, “as long as that’s okay…”
The three of you turn to Hongjoong. With a nudge from Wooyoung, he seems to snap out of whatever stupor he’d been in. It takes him a moment to process your words, but he smiles more genuinely and nods.
“Of course. The rules still apply, but…” His eyes scan the gathered group. “When my most trusted allies and, dare I say, friends, are this excited to see you…” The soft smile turns into a crooked sort of grin, his eyes shining with something like satisfaction. “You’re welcome here any time, Y/N. Just don’t rat us out unless we start going haywire.”
There’s something a little dangerous in the way he holds himself, but there’s a sincerity in his eyes that has memories flooding back to you, disjointed as they are. You hadn’t been paying much attention at the graduation ceremony all those years ago, but you recall the look he got when he called out one name during his acceptance speech, and the one he’s giving the boys now isn’t all that different. This is a man who doesn’t—can’t—trust easily, and he’s extending that to you.
It warms something in you and you nod. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
You ruffle Yeosang’s hair affectionately as you say another round of goodbyes, then practically drag Wooyoung out of the base and back the way you came, skirting patrols and darting through the little side gate much quicker this time at his urging. He parts from you with a quick kiss and you both rush home to ready yourselves for the event. You make yourself presentable in record speed and join your sibling downstairs, the pendant resting just below your collarbones. It feels good, carrying a piece of the Outer Sector into something like this, doubly so after seeing your friends for the first time in years. You’re still floating from the encounter a little, so you miss the narrowed look your sibling gives the jewelry as you step out of the house.
“Pretty necklace,” they hum, the picture of nonchalance. “You’re not breaking your travel restrictions, are you?”
Your blood chills. Luxe is smart, terrifyingly so sometimes—it’s part of what makes them so good at their job—and in all your years, you’ve never had a reason to lie to them directly. They had never asked you to stop seeing Wooyoung entirely, just to be careful. You were the one who figured it would be better to stay away from your house.
They’ll see straight through it if you tell them no, you’re certain.
Instead, you dodge, just like you always have. Smiling faintly, you toy with the pendant. “Woo got it for me. If I’m remembering right, it’s from Kuzmin Jewelry. I think I recognize Ilya’s little stamp.”
Luxe hums fondly and nods, but you can tell there’s more on their mind. Sure enough, “What’s he doing so far outside of the Ring?”
You shrug. “He’s always looking for new things for me.”
They don’t seem quite satisfied with the answer but, thankfully, press no further.
Expectedly, Wooyoung is waiting for you as you approach the Nexus. He beams when he sees you in a way that makes your heart skip several beats, extending a hand to pull you to him as your sibling continues inside.
Just like he does every time, Wooyoung draws his eyes over your form and you feel your cheeks heat. His gaze lingers on the pendant and his grin turns a little self-satisfied as he meets your eyes again, pulling your hands to his lips to press kisses to your knuckles. “You, my dear, are an absolute masterwork.”
You giggle, leaning in to press a kiss to the little scar under his blue eye. Every time, he does this. Every time, it flusters you out of a response. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He’s back to being the picture perfect Inner Sector socialite, his fitted black suit a stark contrast to the baggy, worn clothes he’d sported a little over an hour ago. He nods to the doors beside you. “Shall we?”
The unveiling banquet isn’t as dull as you expected it to be—you find yourself sandwiched between Wooyoung and Yeonjun, of all people, who apparently played a large part in making sure the building’s tech was top of the line. Wooyoung lets out a whoop when Jiwoo acknowledges the work in his presentation, and you bite back laughter at the contrast of the pink on Yeonjun’s cheeks and the scathing glare he fixes your boyfriend with as he sits back down. Conversation flows easily between you, your sibling, Yeonjun, and Wooyoung’s family, and the two childhood friends keep you entertained. It’s easy, casual in comparison to many of the functions you attend. Wooyoung isn’t flitting about to keep everyone happy, and there’s no General Nightingale breathing down your neck, though you’re sure she received an invitation out of social obligation. It’s nice, having a bit normalcy and relative peace to outweigh the sheer chaos of the rest of the day.
Yeonjun has been dragged into a conversation about the building—some addition to the complex that surrounds the Nexus, though you weren’t paying enough attention to Jiwoo to say exactly what—a few tables down, Wooyoung’s parents and younger brother are chatting with old family friends, and Luxe has just stepped away to take a work call when you feel Wooyoung’s hand slip up your shoulder to rest at the nape of your neck. You turn to him, a question in your eyes, to find him beaming at you with a warmth and openness you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. Your boyfriend has always, you thought, been an open book to you. Looking at him now, though, the relaxed set of his shoulders and the hint of relief in his gaze, you can tell that keeping his life in the Outer Sector from you has been weighing on him.
His hand traces the chain of your necklace, following it down until he can run his thumb over the pendant itself. “I knew it would look good on you,” he muses, meeting your eyes again. “Thank you for trusting me, jagiya.”
“Of course,” you reply, catching his hand and bringing it up to press a kiss to his palm. “Thank you for trusting me, too. It can’t have been easy, knowing what’s at risk.”
“It was the least I could do. I couldn’t have you thinking I was cheating on you. And it was too much to explain in a message.”
“I probably wouldn’t have believed you anyway.”
“I don’t think I would have either in your position,” he chuckles. “Still, I’m sorry for being so scarce these past few weeks.” It’s his turn to press a kiss to your hand. “Let me make it up to you.”
“You don’t need to,” you assure.
“But I want to. Badly. The fact that you had to call Yeosang just to get ahold of me… I feel awful,” he explains. You feel a little pang in your chest. “It should have never gotten to that point. I want to spoil you and make you feel loved and treasured, not make you question me and your sanity.“ You can feel heat rising to your cheeks as his gaze darkens a little. “Come home with me tonight. Let me show you.”
Heat flushes your whole body as you nod, taking a sip of your wine to steady yourself. The grin he gives you is sharp and wolfish as his hand drops to your thigh, squeezing it lightly. You shoot a message to Luxe—the thought of facing them with the statement that you’re going home with Wooyoung for the night is too much for you to bear, you think. They’re across the room, cornered by Junghwa and unfortunately, rather than missing the blink of their aurvox, they use it as an excuse to extract themself from the situation.
You groan as you watch them read it, flash you a look, and make their way over. Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. “I was… hoping for a clean exit,” you mutter, pulling a laugh from your boyfriend.
“Then we should have left before you said something.” He hums, amused, standing and offering a hand to help you up. He’s acting nonchalant, ignoring the way your sibling approaches, but you can see tension in his shoulders.
“I’m right here, you know,” Luxe hums. One hand is tucked in the pocket of their slacks, the other cupping their glass of wine. They look relaxed at first glance but their gaze is sharp, darting between your hand in Wooyoung’s and both of your faces. “You could have at least faced me if you’re going to let your boyfriend sweep you away.”
You groan, turning into Wooyoung to bury your face in his chest. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tight against him. “I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”
“You had better,” Luxe warns, then sighs. You hazard a peek from where you’re hiding, and they have the bridge of their nose pinched between their fingers. “Just… be safe, alright?” They manage, giving you a stern look before turning to Wooyoung with a narrowed gaze. “I don’t want to see any evidence of whatever happens tonight when she comes home tomorrow, understood? And if I find out you’ve done anything to hurt her…” The corners of their mouth turn up, but you certainly wouldn’t call that look a smile.
The words hang. A flash of silver catches your eye from where Wooyoung still holds you, and you both startle as one of his rings is tugged off of his finger. It slips onto Luxe’s outstretched index with a soft tink of silver against their glass, which they raise to their lips. You and Wooyoung both gape a little—a less talented Allomancer wouldn't have been capable of keeping the glass intact, much less catching the ring on a single, still finger. He squeezes your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he’s just as bewildered.
Removing the ring almost immediately, Luxe hands it back to your stunned boyfriend, a self-satisfied look on their face. “Have fun, you two. Be safe,” they hum, turning to rejoin the still-mingling banquet guests.
“Your sibling is terrifying.”
“I didn’t even know they could do that.”
The little power move is forgotten quickly as you step out into the night, the reality of what you’re doing settling over your shoulders along with Wooyoung’s blazer. You smile up at him, excited and a little nervous, and he tugs you in for a kiss. It's quick, but it still takes your breath away. He has one arm still wrapped around your waist as his hand skates up your body, fingers dancing over the pendant before he cups your jaw. “I love you so much, Y/N. I haven’t said it enough lately.”
You grin, pressing your forehead to his own. “I love you too, Woo.”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
It’s all he can say now as his hand drops back down, tracing his gift again. If you open your eyes, you know you’ll see the guards at the Nexus gate, most likely Tineyes, burning enough to hear everything between themselves and the door. But for now, bathed in the soft glow of aether imbued in the Nexus walls, you feel like it's only the two of you left on the planet. For a moment, you bask. It feels good to have him in your arms, to know the truth.
You smile a little wistfully as you break the reverie, leaning back and pressing a hand against his chest. “Take me home.”
He squeezes your waist, presses his lips to your forehead, and obliges with a sly grin.
His hands only wander a little as you make the silent, short walk to his home. There’s so much to discuss, but each time you reach for a new topic, you discard it, reminding yourself how well-monitored the Symposium and Inner Sector around it are. The glances you get from Wooyoung tell you he’s thinking along the same lines, and you settle for enjoying one another’s company.
He pushes open the front door with a sweeping gesture and a bow, pulling a giggle from your lips that has him grinning.
“Where’s this perfect gentleman every other day?” You tease as he offers you his arm, steadying you while you step out of your heels.
“I have no idea what you mean. I’m always a perfect gentleman,” he fires back, tone a little extra haughty.
Neither of you can keep it together, collapsing into each other in a fit of giggles. He holds you close, both arms around your waist as you drape yours over his shoulders. Carding one hand into his hair, you lean back just enough to pull him in and connect your lips. He hums into it as you deepen it, grip loosening on you ever so slightly as one hand drifts lower, settling at your hip.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he mutters as you finally part for air, foreheads pressed together. His fingers are twitching with the urge to wander further and, though he’s giving you an out, you can feel how reluctant he is at even the though of letting you go now that he has you back in his arms. “This is about you, us, and making up for lost time. We—”
You tug him down again with a fist in his hair, delighting in the little gasp he lets out against your lips at the fierceness of your kiss. His grip on you tightens, one hand wandering back to knead at your ass.
“It’s you asking, Woo. Of course I’m ready.” You feel his grin. “And you have a lot of apologizing to do for ignoring me for so long.”
With no more warning than a quick intake of breath, he scoops you up in his arms, carefully tucking your skirts under you. You squeak in surprise and giggle, kicking your feet lightly.
“Indeed I do.” His eyes are filled with joy and warmth as he carries you up to his room, gently shutting the door before settling you back on your feet.
You expect him to drag you against him immediately, to seek out your lips the same way he does when he drags you away from prying eyes and kisses you breathless. Instead, he slides his hands down your arms and takes one hand in his, stepping back to let his gaze rake over your form. You feel your cheeks heat once more.
“I can’t believe I almost lost an absolute treasure like you. I don’t think cogbrain even begins to cover it.”
“Woo—”
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says, turning to drag you in front of the full-length mirror hanging from the back of his door. “Look at you. A creation beyond comprehension.”
His chin rests on your shoulder, his hands roaming over the embroidery on your dress as he studies your reflections. Gently, he turns to press an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. “Nothing and no one will ever compare, and I can’t believe I nearly let you slip away to go play rebel. Will you ever forgive me?”
He meets your gaze in the glass, a little pout on his lips that makes you a bit weak in the knees. You look good together, you think as his fingers run up the buttons along your spine.
“I could be convinced to.”
One hand shoots upward, gripping your chin and turning your head to capture your lips again. Your breath catches as, at the same moment, his fingers begin to unfasten the buttons of your dress.
“I’ve been told I can be very persuasive.”
You turn as he guides you, letting him push the sleeves down and help you step out of your skirts. His gaze turns hungry as you’re left in just your undergarments, a flush heating your skin. You feel exposed, unbalanced while he remains clothed, but can’t find it in you to feel uncomfortable.
“You’re not Rioting me out of discomfort, are you?” You mutter as your fingers work at the buttons of his shirt.
He shakes his head, guiding you back to sit on the bed. Pulling your hands into one of his own as the other deftly finishes what you started, he presses a kiss to your knuckles. “I flared everything I had in reserve when we left the Nexus. I may Riot freely in many situations, but never one like this. I promise.”
You nod, pulling him down for a kiss as his shirt joins your dress on the floor. It’s slow and deep, and you can feel him groan against your lips as he meets you, hands coming to rest on either side of your hips. His self-control is admirable, you think with a little smile—you can feel the tension in his arms as you run your hands up over them, and when you pull back, his gaze is dark and dangerous in a way that thrills you.
“You… Everything you do makes me short-circuit, I swear.” Heat flashes through you and you squirm a little as it pools in your gut. Wooyoung grins a little wickedly as his hands slip up your sides, working to bare you to him entirely.
“My masterwork,” he mutters, kissing down your neck. “The shining gem sent just for me.”
You’ve overheard much in your time at the Nexus—women complaining that their husbands wouldn’t stop chattering, that it took their pleasure from them. His words only spur yours on, making warmth prickle under your skin.
“Gilded steel.” He presses a kiss to your collarbone, just beside the pendant, thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts and sending a shiver down your spine. “Exquisite and so, so strong.”
A quiet whimper leaves you and his breath catches. He guides you down against the plush mattress as his lips trail back up your throat, bracing himself above you with one hand while the other kneads at your chest properly. He’s gentle with it, exploratory and testing, fingers flicking quickly across your hardening nipples—and oh, isn’t that something. You twitch beneath him and he parts from you, studying the way you arch and whine, eyes going hazy with pleasure when he does it again.
“Jupiter,” he breathes, more urgent this time as his lips wander lower. It feels like he’s unraveling as he works his way down to your chest, teeth scraping at your collarbone, until he can finally press kisses to the tender flesh he’s been toying with. The sigh you let out isn’t enough; he closes his lips around your nipple, eyes fluttering shut in satisfaction as he lets out a hum to match your own.
Your hands tangle into his hair like it’s second nature, holding him there as his tongue flicks over your skin as you jolt with each burst of pleasure. He laves attention on one, then the other, until finally pulling away, swallowing your whine of protest at the loss.
“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he breathes, letting you drag him back into a kiss while his hands fumble with his pants. You shiver at the loss of his body heat as he stands to shove them off, letting your eyes drag over his form.
Jupiter above, he’s beautiful.
You don’t realize you’ve spoken the words aloud until he’s on you again, devouring your lips.
“You…” he shakes his head, lowering himself between your legs. “A treasure like you would know firsthand.”
His teeth sink into your thigh briefly and you gasp. It’s the reaction he’s hoping for, if the way he grins is any indication. His lips trail up the soft, sensitive skin until they’re hovering over your core. You whine, embarrassed, trying to close your legs only for him to press them further open. He blinks up at you.
“What’s the matter, jagiya?”
“You don’t… have to,” you manage.
He raises an eyebrow, smirking up at you. “If you’re worried about my enjoyment, you shouldn’t be. I have a lot of apologizing to do, remember?” He presses a kiss to your core and you jolt at the sensation, pleasure reviewing through you. “Consider this step one.”
He’s gentle as he begins to taste you, tongue exploring as though he’s trying to map every inch. With his eyes closed, he’s a vision of blissful peace, content to keep his eyes shut and bask in your taste for as long as you’ll let him. The sight alone punches the air out of you, and you tangle a hand into his hair, eyes slipping shut. He groans quietly against you and you feel his hips twitch against the mattress. When you pull your eyes open and back to him, he’s staring up at you with a siren’s gaze. He doubles his efforts as you twitch at the sight, ripping a heady moan from your chest.
“Wooyoung…” He raises an eyebrow and you can feel his smirk against you. For a moment, you wish you could wipe it from his face, but the thought is quickly gone as his lips seal around your clit, his tongue delving past your entrance in the next moment.
Another cry is torn from you and you tug urgently at his hair, receiving a noise of protest as you do. “What’s the matter? Too much?”
“I—no, I just… Isn’t your family coming home soon?”
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your core that makes your twitch. “Jiwoo is staying with his girlfriend. Everyone else is staying with the Parks at the Nexus. We’ll be the only ones here all night.”
You curse, letting your head fall back against the pillow as he returns eagerly to his delightful ministrations.
He takes his time with you, letting your pleasure build lazily, as though you have all the time in the world. Your mind is a haze of need, that coil in your gut so close to snapping when he pulls back. You wine sharply and tug on his hair, earning a low groan and a glare. His grip on your thigh tightens in warning and you flush, surprised when the dull pain prickles as pleasure under your skin.
“Trust me.”
You do, invariably. Nodding, you loosen your grip, and Wooyoung brings a finger up to prod at your entrance.
“Good girl.”
The words are so simple, but the way he purrs them has you whining, walls fluttering around the single digit he presses into you.
“Of course, my masterwork loves her praise,” he chuckles, sounding a little cocky. You move to kick him lightly in reprimand, but his lips seal over your clit again and you go boneless against the sheets.
He works you open patiently, one finger becoming two when your hands in his hair tighten again. The pleasure feels like it will be endless, a constant knot in your belly that he doesn’t seem keen on unwinding any time soon. Your moans become more desperate and your thighs twitch around his head as he scissors his fingers, tongue darting between them. The fullness rips a moan from you and you squirm, trying to direct him somewhere specific, to find something more, though you’re not quite sure what.
His tongue leaves you and you nearly curse in protest, but then his fingers crook and pleasure explodes through you. Your whole body tightens as the knot in your belly unravels, thighs shaking on either side of his head as he works you through your orgasm. The touch against that spongy spot within you and the suction on your clit become gentle laps and kisses as he brings you down, not letting your pleasure dissipate entirely. Head spinning, you blink your eyes open to stare at the ceiling for a moment and catch your breath.
Shifting from the other end of the bed pulls your attention back to him, and you’re surprised when he settles beside you instead of above you. Wooyoung’s cock is flushed a pretty pink, hard and leaking where it rests against your hip, but he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, drinking you in. The kiss he presses to your forehead feels out of place and perfectly Wooyoung at the same time. You huff a laugh.
“Satisfied, darling?” You nod, smiling, and he chuckles. “Good.” He rolls onto his back, arms spread wide and inviting just like he has so many times before. “Come here.”
The look you give him is one of confusion. “But you haven’t…” You glance down.
“I don’t need to cum. Tonight is about you, and me making up for the hurt I’ve put you through. I’ll be alright, I promise.”
Something about that feels wrong. Frowning, you shift toward him until, in one smooth motion, you can throw a leg over his hips to straddle him. The noise he makes as his length is trapped below your heat is broken, pitiful, not too dissimilar from the ones you were making moments ago.
“You’re not through apologizing yet,” you hum.
His voice comes out rough, a little chuckle and smirk alongside it. “Is that so?”
Confident, you nod, rolling your hips down against his own. “I want you to feel pleasure too. And I won’t consider you forgiven until I feel you. All of you.”
Wooyoung sucks in a breath between his teeth, then nods, guiding your hips up to hover above him. “What ever my lady wants.”
He slides into you at the same slow pace he opened you up with and you both groan as your hips meet. When you lean down for a filthy kiss, you can still taste yourself on his tongue, and the way your walls flutter around him makes his hips cant up. He’s holding back, you can tell, and you’re determined to make that stop. Gently, you pry his hands from your back, lacing your fingers and pinning them to the pillow above him. He looks a little stunned, eyes glassy as you hold him there and roll your hips experimentally. You both moan in unison.
“I won’t last long,” he admits on a breath. “Finally having you like this, I—” You pull an outright whine from him as you shift your hips up and sink back down. “Jagiya.”
You silence him with a kiss, settling into a steady pace. “You don’t have to last, my love. I just need you to feel even half the pleasure you brought me.”
Another pretty whine and his hips twitch up, meeting yours. Desperation is a good look on him, you think.
“Let go, Woo. Please, I need it.”
He meets your pace then, using your grip on his hands against you to pull you down until your body is flush with his own. Slipping out of your grip, he tangles one hand into your hair to lock your lips again, the other pressing down against the small of your back. The shift in angle has him dragging against your sweet spot once more and you can feel your pleasure building quickly alongside his own, the urgency and sensitivity from your first orgasm rushing you forward. Your hands crumple the pillowcases and within moments, you feel your pleasure spiking again.
You come apart together, panting into each other's mouths and breathing each other's names, and you don’t have the mind to feel sorry for the way you go boneless on top of him. Wooyoung laughs, breathless, and lets you lie there, hands wandering over the expanse of your back as you exchange kisses. It’s only when the stickiness of sweat and other bodily fluids start to make your skin crawl that you roll off of him.
“That was… incredible,” you breathe.
Wooyoung hums, pleased. “Good. I wanted to make your first time memorable—in a good way, of course.”
You flush. “I, erm… Thank you.”
“It’s only what you deserve.”
You should know by now, you think, that it’s nearly impossible to be around Wooyoung without heat creeping up your cheeks.
“You… Seemed like you… had experience,” you murmur, heart racing. It’s nagging at you a bit, now that you’re cooling down.
Wooyoung blinks, then props himself up on an elbow, reaching out to trace patterns along your skin as he meets your gaze. “I do. It took me a long time to realize where my heart belonged.” He pauses. “Does that bother you?”
Strangely, you find it doesn’t. He’s still ended up here, with you, despite whatever happened in the interim. Smiling, you shake your head, pulling him in for a soft kiss. He chuckles against your lips.
“Good. Sex is much better with someone you love, if tonight was any indication.” He leans in again, this kiss deeper but still heatless, his grip a little possessive on your hip. “No one will ever measure up.”
You beam up at him, cupping his jaw, at a loss for words once again. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars themselves in the sky.
“Come on, let’s go get cleaned up.”
Things even out over the next few weeks, a new sense of normalcy settling over the two of you. Wooyoung finds a location for his next event, submitting the full proposal the night before the deadline, and makes an effort to set aside the New Paradigm while he’s within the Inner Sector. It comes after a talking to from Hongjoong, of all people. For a moment, you’re surprised, but you remember quickly that his mother is a Speaker.
”If you want to play both sides, you need to remember that we are much more flexible and forgiving than any politician.” His stern stare leaves no room for argument.
You see more of Mingi and Jongho than you thought you ever would, and your heart is full on the days you show up at the base to wait for Wooyoung to come back from recruiting. The three of you are often joined by Yeosang, who seems to have formed a close bond with both of them in the time he’s spent here, and sometimes Hongjoong when he pulls himself from his office. Yeosang seems to flit away quickly once you and your boyfriend are in the same room, though, each time with mission prep or work to handle. At first, you attribute it to the way Wooyoung can’t seem to keep his hands off of you anymore, but once you convince him finally to dial it back, his behavior remains the same.
It hurts, and you can tell Wooyoung feels it too.
“It feels like something’s missing without him,” you say over lunch one day, eyeing the empty seat at your usual table.
Wooyoung nods.
“I wish there was a way to go back to the way things used to be. All three of us, all the time.”
You can see the gears turning in his head. “Why can’t it be?”
Stunned, you blink at him. “What?”
“Why can’t it be all three of us? I mean… I love you, and I’m happy with just you, but… don’t we both love Yeosangie too?”
You sit back, processing his words. After a moment, you nod slowly. You’d already considered the possibility, just after you noticed the first changes in Yeosang’s behavior, that he was secretly in love with one or both of you. It had been cast aside quickly—the more likely answer was him being uncertain with the changing dynamics of your long-standing friend group. Now, with you and Wooyoung becoming more affectionate with one another and Yeosang pulling further away, you’re reconsidering your logic.
“I hadn’t thought much about it before,” Wooyoung mutters, “but now that we’re sitting and talking about it…” He pauses, floundering for a moment in a way you don’t think you've seen before. “It’s not that I’m unhappy with you or that I’d be happier with Sangie—well, I would be, but that’s more a case of having our best friend back than anything—”
“Woo,” you cut him off gently, placing a hand on his thigh. “I get it. It’s not about being happier with him as a part of our relationship, though I’m sure that would come naturally. It’s just a different kind of happiness. I love Yeosangie as much as I love you, I just haven’t explored whether that could be romantic or not.”
He beams. “That’s exactly it.”
There’s a pause, anticipation swirling in the air between you.
“How do we bring this up to him?”
It takes a few days for the pair of you to find the words and gather the courage to speak to Yeosang about your revelation. The day you do, you’re buzzing with excitement, strolling hand-in-hand down the alleys of the Outer Sector as you make your way to the base. Wooyoung helps you down the ladder with a little flourish, the two of you unaware of the chaos surrounding you for only a moment.
Jongho breaks your bubble. “Blessings, there you are! Do you know where Yeosang is?”
You and Wooyoung exchange a confused look. He’s been spending less and less time in the Inner Sector, preferring to while away the hours after work with the New Paradigm. You had knocked on his front door before coming all the way here, and he was nowhere to be found. As you relay this information to the group, Hongjoong’s jaw sets firm, the embers of anger burning in his eyes.
“That’s it, then. He’s left us for the birdies, hasn’t he, Mingi?”
The Captain’s glare makes the man flinch. Jongho and Wooyoung whip around to face the Smoker, offense and betrayal etched on their faces.
“What?!”
“Who?” You ask, tone gentle.
Hongjoong turns to you, remaining stock-still, and you’re quickly reminded of the elite cadet he’d been when you first laid eyes on him. “The Blue Birds. They’re a relatively new group of Technomancers, but their rise has been swift. Within a couple of months, they've become our biggest rivals.” His eyes lock back onto Mingi. “And you knew.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did,” he grits out. “I’m a very difficult man to keep secrets from.” Your eyes dart to your old friend and you watch as realization dawns on his face. Hongjoong, a Tineye who rarely sleeps, wouldn’t have to burn off his reserves every night as other Allomancers do. He's awake, burning, on watch most of the night. The thought makes you worry for him. “I heard him ask you about it.”
Mingi’s shoulders slump, and he huffs a sigh.
“And you didn’t think to stop him?!” Wooyoung snaps. You jolt a little as he steps around you, fuming.
“He was determined. He sounded like he already had his mind made up. I did my best, but…” Mingi trails off with a shrug. You don’t think you've seen him look this small, not even when he got chewed out by his father for leaving the stall unattended to help a stray cat with a broken leg out of the middle of the street.
“He’s not even a Technomancer! What was he thinking? They’re not going to need or want his help,” Wooyoung huffs.
“If that ends up being the case, then we’ll welcome him back happily,” Hongjoong says. His eyes narrow at Wooyoung as the Rioter’s mouth opens, and you watch your boyfriend’s jaw snap shut. He sighs. Of course he won’t turn his childhood best friend away. “In the meantime, I’ll need to train another Seeker to take his place.” He runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “If he’s made up his mind—which it sounds like he has—then there’s no use chasing after him, as much as we all may want to.”
Wooyoung seems to deflate a little as he mutters alongside the brothers, “Yes, Captain.”
You feel unmoored as you take it all in, like a ship set adrift with no crew. Your plans to mend things, to better them, all gone with one stroke of bad luck. Today, of all days, Yeosang turned his back on the New Paradigm for their rivals. You can feel Wooyoung's anger, Jongho's disgust and Mingi's shame. The conversation you would have had is over before it had the chance to begin.
Gently, Wooyoung takes your hand, pulling you into his arms. Your heart cracks as you press against him, and you let him guide you deeper into the base as the first of your tears stains his neck.
It takes you weeks, but you finally manage to corner Yeosang on his lunch hour. He looks stunned when he sees you and nearly turns in the other direction, but you call after him. He hesitates, the kindness you love so much and Inner Sector politeness warring against his newfound loyalties.
“Sangie,” you try again. This time, he turns, a tight smile on his face. “I'll treat you to fried chicken for a chat. It's been too long.”
His shoulders slump and he makes his way over, not meeting your eyes. “If you're here for the Captain—”
“I just miss you. Woo and I both do.” Yeosang's eyes dart around, nervous. “He's not here. He doesn't know I'm here either. He's mad at you—they all are—but he still talks about how much he misses you.”
Yeosang closes his eyes, taking in a breath.
“Will you have lunch with me?”
His shoulders jump with his silent laugh, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “I'm not enough of a cogbrain to decline free food.”
The place is just around the corner, and though tension remains in the silence between you, you feel a little victorious. The feeling fades a little with each failed attempt at small talk, Yeosang’s responses remaining vague and trailing off, as though his mind is elsewhere entirely.
Finally, as you sit down at a quiet corner table, he sighs. “I owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me anything, but I’m not opposed to hearing one if you’d like to share.”
He takes a deep breath. “Remember when we were kids, playing in the backyard with that massive pile of scrap my parents kept around?” You smile at the memories that flash through your mind, nodding. “It didn’t matter that my mom was an Allomancer and I was playing Tinker in the backyard. She loved me all the same. Wooyoung and Yeonjun are still friends, Seonghwa and Hongjoong worked together side-by-side for years after their exam results came in. Everything in the Inner Sector is blended together for one cause. Allomancer or Technomancer, Adept or not, it doesn’t matter.”
You raise an eyebrow at that bold statement, and Yeosang rolls his eyes with another hint of a smile. “Alright, it matters in politics and personal biases, but we’re not at each other’s throats constantly.”
“Right.”
“So why does it matter so much in the Outer Sector? Why are we constantly trying to undermine each other? We have the same goal. Why can’t we work together on it?” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “The only answers I could really think of were the lasting civil war and the personal biases of the leaders of each group. Both spent time in the Scrapyard, which isn’t particularly friendly to outsiders of any kind and is where the divide is the most obvious, and there’s the constant battle for resources of course, but… It still doesn’t make sense. I think they’re both just playing it safe, too scared of what could happen if the groups combined, even if they should. Resource and territory sharing make much more sense on paper than whatever it is we have going on right now.”
“That doesn’t… explain why you left, but it does make sense to me. Even when I was living in the Outer Sector, the fighting didn’t make sense to me either. I would see it everyday, in fights on the streets, the way people looked at me and my family because my dad was a well-known Allomancer.”
Yeosang nods, some of the built up tension from his impassioned rambling draining from his shoulders at your words. “I thought I could act as a bridge between us. Well, Mingi and me. His childhood best friend is a member of the Blue Birds. From what I’ve gathered, they don’t really talk much anymore—something about double standards and being on opposite sides of this conflict—but they’re friendly enough that Mingi introduced me.”
You smile fondly. “That sounds about right. Even if they’re at each other’s throats, those two can’t be separated for very long. Yunho’s a good guy, too.”
A genuine smile spreads across Yeosang’s face and he nods. “He looks a little intimidating at first, but he’s really just a big puppy.”
With a bright laugh, you nod. “Sounds like Yuyu.”
He’s grinning now, and your heart swells at the sight. Regardless of Wooyoung’s feelings on the matter, you’re glad to have your friend back. “They’re all so nice. I was expecting some sort of pushback, but they all know I’m an Allomancer, and most of them don’t care. One of them is a Scrapyard kid, so he’s a little wary, but the fact that I’m a Seeker instead of having any of the external or physical abilities seems to help.”
“I’m glad, Yeosangie. You sound like you’re having a lot of fun.”
Another eager nod. “And I feel like I’m helping them more than I ever helped the Paradigm. I was never much help on missions, but as a Scholar for the Blue Birds, I can stay in and research. It's something I can do at home, too, so I’m not spending as much time traveling or risking as much going through the Ring. I just do my research, send it along, and then I’m through.”
“That sounds perfect for you.”
The smile he gives you is so fond that you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry for avoiding you and leaving without saying anything, but I knew everyone would try to talk me out of it.”
“Everyone but Mingi,” you agree.
“And you, apparently.”
Your ears heat a little, and you nod. “It’s not my place to talk you out of something that could bring you joy. I have no stake in the goings on of the crew, aside from the safety of my friends.”
An aurvox alarm goes off and Yeosang jumps, pulling the device from his belt. “I have to get back to work. Thank you for listening, Y/N.”
You stand, giving him a quick hug before he has to dash off again. “Thank you for sharing, Sangie. Keep in touch, okay?”
His little grin and wave make your chest tighten. “I will! See you!”
When you bring the interaction up to Wooyoung the next day, he goes still. For a moment, as irrational as it is, you think he’ll turn and yell at you. Instead, he nods. “I’m glad at least one of us gets to keep in touch.”
“Why can’t you?” You ask. “You both live and work in the Inner Sector. Mingi and Yunho still keep in touch sometimes.”
Wooyoung shakes his head, sighing. “I’m not as kind as Mingi is. Maybe some day I’ll be alright with it, but I’m still upset with him for leaving without so much as a goodbye.”
Nodding, you let him pull you against his side, head resting on his shoulder.
“I really am glad you still have each other, though. One of us should always be around to keep an eye on our Sangie.”
The topic drops then, between the pair of you and within the New Paradigm. No one mentions Yeosang or his perceived betrayal—more bodies are moving about the base these days, and you figure it would be bad for recruitment if nothing else. You continue your little lunch dates with him nonetheless, on the rare occasion that your breaks align. It’s peaceful, for a while, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Sector One, it’s that peace doesn’t last forever here.
Luxe sends you an ominous message the night everything collapses, demanding more than asking you to stay at home. Minutes later, there’s a tapping at your window, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sight of Jongho peering through it. Confused, you rush to open it, tugging him inside.
Before you can even begin to question him, he asks, “Is Luxe home?”
You frown. “No. Why? What’s going on?”
“Has Wooyoung come here?”
“No. Jongho—”
“There’s not much time to explain. Something happened while he was out today, we’re not quite sure what, but a bar in the Outer Sector was leveled. He was seen fleeing and we need to find him, get a debrief, make sure he’s alright.”
Your heart skips a few beats, then picks up like it’s on override. Panic settles in quickly, your mind reeling. “He… What… Jongho—”
“Hey,” he grabs you by the shoulders, shifting until his face is the only thing you can see. “It’ll be okay. We’re gonna get him out of this, one way or another. We don’t have numbers, but we’re quick, smart, and Hongjoong-hyung is the best strategist I’ve ever seen. He was a Vanguard Elite and escaped the Nexus silently. If anyone can make sure Wooyoung gets out of this in one piece, it’s him. It’ll be okay.”
You nod, breathing deeply to calm the anxious current running in your veins. “Yeah… Yeah, okay. It’ll be fine.”
“I’ll come find you the second I know anything, I promise.”
Swallowing thickly, you nod again, and pull him into your arms. You’re relieved and stunned when, instead of protesting, he wraps strong arms around you, squeezing just enough to ground you back into your body. “Come back soon,” you mutter.
“As soon as I can.”
You pace while he’s gone, a bundle of nervous energy. It’s well past dinner time and you’ve busied yourself with as much care as you can mange for your mother, yet Luxe still hasn’t come home from work and Jongho hasn’t returned with any news. You’re beside yourself with worry, resolving to dismiss Luxe’s demand entirely and go searching for Wooyoung yourself, when a familiar tapping on your window knocks you from your thoughts.
Scrambling to open it, you immediately step back to let Jongho in, eyes searching his face as though the answers are written on it. He looks almost the same as when you saw him earlier and for a moment, your heart soars with hope. Then, in an instant, you watch fatigue hit him as he turns off his pewter, bracing himself on your desk against the wave. Quickly, you pull out the chair and guide him into it. He gives you a grateful look as he takes a few deep breaths.
“They brought out quite the cavalry to arrest Wooyoung,” he manages, “but we got him out of there. Last I saw, he was headed for the Outer Sector, away from here. Hongjoong probably went after him once he got out of his melee with Nightingale.”
“General Nightingale was there?” You can’t keep the panic from your voice.
He nods, then stares at the ceiling for a long moment. “Luxe too.”
Your heart drops into your stomach. “He has no chance. They’ll catch him. Jongho—”
“Wooyoung is quick and smart. There was a patrol nearby when the bar exploded, and he managed to evade them.”
“But with Luxe and the General and if there were as many people as you say—”
He reaches up, hand settling over your own where you're digging your nails into the back of the chair. “We gave him a pretty good headstart, Y/N. Piki dropped a few sprays of cogs as a deterrent while we scattered, and I’m sure they’ll be more focused on Hongjoong after he went straight for Nightingale.”
You take a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah, okay.”
“They might send out search parties, but as long as Hongjoong finds him first, he’ll be alright.”
Another nod. “You probably shouldn’t stay for long. Our relationship is pretty public, so Luxe will probably be home soon to see if he’s come here.”
Jongho sighs, then pushes himself up reluctantly. As though summoned, you here the front door swing open to signal your sibling’s arrival. The pair of you exchange worried glances.
“Go,” you whisper, nodding to the window. “I’ll come by later to see if there are any updates.”
There’s no time for him to protest as the stairs creak and you practically shove the pewterarm out onto the roof, quietly shutting the window behind him. You grab the book by your bed and settle into your desk chair just in time for the knock on your door.
“Bug?”
“Come in,” you call, heart racing.
Luxe looks far more disheveled than Jongho did as they step into your space, and you rise to your feet quickly with concern. If things got that intense… You shake the thought away.
“What happened to you?”
“Wooyoung was supposed to be arrested tonight.”
You blink at them, silent, hoping the look on your face reads as shock. “What?”
“There was an attack in the Outer Sector today, and he was seen fleeing the scene. Between the incident today and his historical anti-Symposium narrative, we have good reason to believe that he is involved in stoking the fires of the civil war. He escaped with the help of three masked individuals, two of which we’ve confirmed to be Allomancers, and Kim Hongjoong.” Their gaze hardens as they speak, making certain you hear every syllable of the Captain’s name. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about any of this or know where your boyfriend has run off to, would you?”
They spit the word out like a curse and it lands like a dagger in your chest. Gaze dropping to the floor, you shake your head. “I don’t know where he is. We had breakfast this morning, but he said he had to location scout afterward. I haven’t heard from him since.” You’re surprised by how quickly Wooyoung’s typical excuse rolls off of your tongue.
Luxe raises an eyebrow. You know you only answered one of their questions, but you’re not sure you can lie to them. When you remain silent, staring at the floor, they heave a sigh. “And you wouldn’t happen to know anything about Kim Hongjoong and a group of well-trained vigilante Allomancers?”
“No,” you say simply, shaking your head once again.
The deep, steadying breath they take tells you they’re not convinced. “Y/N, I know this is difficult, and I’m sorry. But the safety of the entire Sector is on the line.” Silence stretches for what feels like an eternity, until finally, they give up. “Alright. If you do find anything out or hear from him, you come to me, understood?”
“Okay,” you mutter.
“I’m sorry it came to this, Bug. I love you.”
“Me too,” you reply, wiping at tears you hadn’t realized began to fall as the door quietly shuts behind them.
YEAR: 1023
It’s more difficult to sneak in and out of the Ring after that, but with some help from the New Paradigm and a few nights spent studying their maps of the guard patrols, you become just about as good at it as they are. Luxe works longer hours, and on nights where the Outer Sector is near upheaval and drawing them away, Wooyoung comes to you. It’s different than it was, no parties or lunch dates or lavish presents, but you stick by his side and the necklace he gifted you when you got dragged into all of this stays around your throat. You spend your days with Yeosang, ignoring pitying glances and whispers. They fade with time, your proximity to the teacher aids in it, the gossip shifting to the nature of your relationship instead. Even Luxe has picked up on them, asking you at a rare dinner together about it.
You take a deep breath, memories flashing of conversations past, you and Wooyoung realizing together how deep your feelings for him ran. Wooyoung has no way of seeing him now, though much of his anger has faded.
“I can’t,” you tell them. They look confused for a moment, then glance to your pendant and sigh.
“I understand.”
After that first night, they’ve asked no more questions. Whether they trust you to keep them informed or would simply prefer plausible deniability, you’re not sure. Things settle into a new type of normal. Though you catch yourself occasionally longing for simpler times, Wooyoung seems happier without the obligations of Inner Sector life and constantly surrounded by his friends. It’s nice enough, for a while.
You’re curled up on the couch with a book when Luxe comes home, a storm cloud above their head. They toss a stack of papers in front of you silently and you jolt a little, marking your page. It stretches, heavy, as they hang their uniform coat neatly and you shuffle through the stack. Wanted posters; eight of them. You spread them out on the coffee table, dread settling in your stomach. There’s only one face you don’t recognize.
“This has to stop.” Your sibling’s back is to you, their posture rigid where they’ve paused at the base of the stairs. They sound weary, pained, and there’s a shakiness to their voice that you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. “Whatever it is, whatever you’ve gotten yourself wrapped up in, it ends now.” They flash you a sharp, steely glare. “Make it happen.”
The Watch Master leaves without another word. For the first time, perhaps in your life, you feel completely and utterly alone.
Summary: After another exhausting day dealing with your various sorcerer missions, you get a text from your lovely boyfriends Satoru and Suguru— with nothing but a picture of various piles of rope sitting on the dining table, captioned “come home soon, beautiful; we miss you.”
A/N: HELLO HI IFINALLY FINISHED THIS. this is my submission for @cherrys-wrld 2K event, Pussywhipped! I really hope you all enjoy!
TAGS: pegging, gojo is extremely pathetic, established relationship!- suguru is usually the dom, but lets you dom for once, shibari/rope tying, orgasm denial (for sugu), early/premature ejac, piercings (lightly mentioned), nipple play, reader is very much giving stone top when they get in this headspace
word count: 2.1k
You were unsure what to expect when you walked through the door, but regardless, you felt excited. Your face flushes bright as you stare at the small window of your phone screen, throat gulping for air. You knew those tools, of course, you did– Suguru loved to practice different ties on both you and Satoru, and he had taught you a few different types over your relationship together.
This mission was beyond exhausting; your bones ache, and you're unfortunately aware of every single muscle as they ache. But this, this put a little extra pep in your step now.
Excitement pulsed through your chest in waves as your hand turned the knob, calling out for them both. The door swings open, soft floral incense flooding your senses as you walk through the entrance. The lights were off, only soft candlelight illuminating your vision as you moved.
“Toru? Sugu?” you called out, bending down to pull off your shoes as you waited for signs of life.
“In here, love,” Suguru's voice rings out, signaling his presence in the shared bedroom. It doesn't take long before you're in the doorway, heart racing at the visual now in front of you.
“H-hey, sweetheart,” Satoru mumbles, face flushed pink as he's completely tied up and splayed in front of your very eyes. His legs were bound in double spiral futomomos, hands completely
bound in a Hojojutsu capture. His cock was leaking pre like a broken faucet, tip flushed and angry from the torture alone of being tied up. His pouty lips were wet, swollen from kisses, eyes big and striking blue as he looked up at you, looking for mercy without words.
Oh god.
“I tied him up, and I'd love it if you’d tie me up too, beautiful,” Suguru approached, a soft smile on his face as he outstretched his hands, dropping piles of rope into your own. His breath fanned your ear as he moved closer, nipping the edge before speaking.
“I know you love it when Satoru subs, but…how about us both, this time, hm?” his voice is so sultry it nearly makes you melt. Shudders run down your spine as your hand tightens against the rope, now filled with motivation.
In what feels like less than a second, your demeanor shifts into dom headspace. Using your free hand, you push Suguru towards the bed until his calves hit the edge, forcing him to sit down. Your mouths connect, lips desperate against yours as your tongue slips into his. He lets out a soft grunt, hands reaching to tangle in your hair.
“H-hey! Don't forget about me, p-please,” Satoru whines loudly, hips bucking up in torture, hoping for any sort of attention from you. You break the kiss to look over at him, smiling.
Your hand reaches to his face, fingers lifting his chin to focus his gaze on you. “Ask properly, baby. You know how, don't you?”
He whimpers, pouting exaggeratedly as he speaks, eyes sparkling as he watches you. “P-please momma, pleaseplease–” you smirk in satisfaction, gripping his jaw to kiss him. He's already pathetic, soft whimpers escaping his mouth as you kissed. He sucked on your tongue, then licked against every corner and crevice before you ultimately pulled away. Another loud whine escapes Satoru, mourning the loss of your lips against his as you begin tying up Suguru.
You pressed Suguru onto his stomach, his violet eyes watching you with lust as you replicated the ties pressing against satorus skin.
“You’ve gotten so good at this, darling,” he coos, his hips softly beginning to rut against the mattress. He had tied you up many times before, tied up Satoru countless times. This felt so much different, to watch you put him in that vulnerable position he had put you in so many times before. Admittedly, it made him leak pre like a fountain, knowing you’d take advantage of him and Satoru in just a moment.
You slide on the strap, harness clinking as you adjust it. Your harness was fitted with your go-to choice: a purple, thick 8-inch dildo, with a barbell pierced at the tip. It was pierced similarly to sugurus, to replicate the bliss you feel when his dragsss against your walls.
Noticing Sugus soft grunts, your hand reaches up, pressing into his lower back to stop his hips from moving. “Did I say you could move, handsome?” You whisper, reaching over his figure with your own— straddling his hips, lying on his soft ass.
Another loud whine rips from Satorus's pretty throat, trying his best to get your attention yet again. You sigh.
“Satoru, stop being so fussy,” you breathed, grabbing the rope fitted around his hip to pull his body closer to you. You pull him until his hips are flush to Suguru, where Gojo immediately reaches his face in desperation to him, begging for kisses. “Pleaseee, pleasee, wan you” he nearly sobs, and Suguru smiles, leaning into his impatience, locking lips slow and deep. Heat pools in your gut, arousal slicking you as you reach for the lube to get started.
“Okay, boys, pay attention to me now, Kay?” You smile at them both, blue and violet eyes watching you with excitement. Starting with wet kisses down Suguru's spine, he shudders, grunting as your hands graze down his sides, squeezing into the soft skin of his hips. You part his soft cheeks, squirting lube down onto his skin. He whimpers softly into the sheets below, tight hole fluttering around nothing but the cold gel coating him. Your fingers reach him carefully, thumb circling his ass as he whined.
Reaching over to Satoru, you begin rutting his cock in your hand, a sob of bliss tumbling out of his mouth, hips fucking himself into your fist. “F-ffuckkkk,” his voice trembles, a mix of moans and grunts from them both heightening as you give Gojo a soft squeeze on his base, the other hand thumbing Sugu, slowly pushing inside him.
He gasps in surprise, the gasp slowly turning into a drawn-out moan as your thumb keeps pushing in, reaching just up to the first knuckle. “Mnggh— y/n, keep going, p-please, my love,” his voice is so sweet, so sultry as he begs, pleading with all the breath in his lungs.
“Let me work you open first, honey,” you whisper, thumb slowly beginning to work in and out of him, slow, deep thrusts, in and outtt, in and out, until he’s slowly moving back against you, desperately trying to get more of you inside.
Satoru is jittering under your touch, bucking wildly up into your hand while pre cum sticks to your fingers, dropping and drooling all over your skin. He tenses, thighs clenching together, whimpers endless as he gets close to his high.
“Momma—— m-momma!! ah, ah, I’m gonna cum, nghh, oh god,” he’s babbling incoherently, lost in the pleasure. Finally, you thrust your thumb in all the way, hand pressed against him as you fuck him deeper.
“O-okay, okay, I’m ready. please, I want more,” his voice turns shaky, his violet eyes nearly glowing with pure lust and need. You nod, deciding to first have Satoru finish so you can focus on Suguru.
You turn your gaze towards your beautifully pathetic boyfriend, how his pure snow white lashes flutter, how his blue eyes strike in the air with pure frantic energy as he cums. His mouth slips into an O, cheeks flushed pink as his hips buck sloppily. “Aahhh, hah, oh y/n, fuck, fuck, I love you, iloveyouy/n, i loveeyouuu,” your name and L-bombs slurred out his mouth as thick ropes of white paint his heaving stomach and chest. Some drops leak onto your fingers as you give him another soft squeeze, making his body jolt with a strung yelp.
You smile sweetly down at his shaking form, lifting your cum soaked fingers to his pouty lips.
“Clean,” it comes out of your mouth simply, a command Satoru has heard countless times before. He takes your fingers into his mouth greedily, sucking with loud slurps and thwacks as he cleans you off perfectly. You hum in appreciation, removing your hand to wipe the moisture of his mouth on his own face. His eyes widen, then settle into pure love. You swear you can see soft blue hearts form in his eyes as he stares at you, reveling in the feeling of your hand smearing his spit all over his cheek. You tap your fingers against him, then offer him a deal.
“Toru, would you be a good boy and sit under suguru please?” voice full of silk, watching him scramble like an obedient puppy to move Suguru on top of him.
“Be good and play with sugus cock while I fuck him, kay?” you whisper towards him, a brighter blush taking form on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he nods in agreement.
Finally turning all your attention onto Suguru, you squeeze the fat of his ass, checking in one more time. “Are you sure you want to do this, Sugu? We can stop if you change your mind.” You caress the skin available to you, rubbing soft circles into his hip as you await the man's response.
Suguru, usually the chatty type, responds with only action. His eyes turn to face you once again, pupils blown completely as he reaches behind himself, grasping the tip of your strap to align with his entrance. Soft whimpers and grunts escape him as he rubs the tip on his clenching hole, never breaking eye contact with you.
He wants it.
So fucking bad.
Who are you to deny him?
You respond with a soft thrust forward, letting the tip catch on his entrance, making him emit a soft groan. Reaching for the lube, you add a glob to his quivering hole, legs twitching at the cold temperature.
“Spread,” you whisper, watching in amazement as he bends forward, spreading himself for you to get a clear view.
“So beautiful sugu…” You begin to push in, his breath shaky as he tries to take you. You spit a fat glob of moisture onto his hole, watching it roll against his skin as you go deeper.
“Breathe, handsome, you can take it,” you coo, urging him to relax. He exhales a large breath, muscles relaxing enough for you to inch closer and closer, until your hips are flush to his ass.
“Holy shit, f-fuck, it's so much,” he groans helplessly, Satoru taking this as the perfect time to wrap his hand around Suguru's cock. Slow, languid strokes of his hand to drive him crazy.
How's it feel, my pretty boy? Your hand runs down the center of his back, nails racking against the skin softly to make him shudder.
“S-so..s-so full,” he whispers, barely audible as he clenches around the toy. You giggle softly at him, knowing that exact cockdrunk, dumb fucked state. One roll of your hips has him crying out, legs trembling like earthquakes. Satorus's hand moves up and down his length easily, so much precum that his hand is drenched.
“I can't, baby, oh god, I'm–” he gasps out, hips already bucking into torus hand, ready to release.
You flash a look, one he knows all too well. With just that flicker of an expression, his hand releases Suguru, providing no relief. He whines loudly, dazed and confused as to why his high was stopped.
“Can't cum so soon, baby boy,” you complain, faux pout on your lips as you start to move again, one free hand reaching his nipple to tweak. His entire body is so sensitive– it only takes a few more strokes beforehe'ss reaching his high yet again.
You stop moving, Suguru growing increasingly humiliated and desperate.
“Please, please let me cum, Please he’s begging with every fiber of his being, eyes burning holes in your soul as he watches you with the most desperate face; one you weren't even sure humans could make. By now, it's only fair to let him, considering how good he was, even begging. You look at him with pure adoration as you rock your hips into him, your other hand now reaching to stroke his cock as you simultaneously tweak one stiff nipple.
“O-oh god, love, oh I'm c-cumming,” he gasps out, little, punched out breaths rhythmic as he reaches climax. His whole body shakes, thick ropes nearly pressurized with the force they emit when they burst out of his sensitive cock. His cum gets everywhere– painting satorus face, your hand, and even his own chest.
“Wowwww, baby,” a soft chuckle comes out with your statement, rolling him onto his back to rest. “So, how's bottoming feel?”
