#neb.atz

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 Minho’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.

TAGLIST: @yuncheoligans-archive @tastymintchocolate @tattywood @bahng-chrizz @elllisaaa @xenkimmie @buzzkillem @atinyinateezverse @hooniewnderland @skteezcursed @unlikelysublimekryptonite @kangnina @kibs-and-bits

YEAR: 1011

You follow your teacher—Ms. Ahn, you recall—from the Headmaster’s Office quietly, brushing invisible dust off your pristine white Prestige Academy uniform. She had welcomed you with a warm smile and open arms, the wariness and borderline hostility you met her with entirely unwarranted. At least, from her perspective. From yours, which had spent the past three months in your new home feeling the stares of your new, richer Inner Sector neighbors following you and your sibling as you went about your daily lives, you were entirely justified. You think you recognize the woman currently guiding you as one of them; someone from your neighborhood who had stopped by briefly to wish you well with what was probably a fake smile. She gives you a sadder, softer one as she stops at the classroom door, ushering you through it first before following and pulling the door shut behind you.

Around thirty sets of eyes focus in on you like lasers with your entrance, and you tense instinctively, jaw setting and eyes narrowing just slightly as you stand straighter. Discomfort begins to seep into your bones and you start to take half a step back, just as Ms. Ahn steps up next to you, steadying you.

She smiles brightly again, setting a hand on your shoulder briefly as she speaks, “Class, we have a new student joining us this semester. Everyone, please welcome Y/N.” The silence your introduction is met with seems like it stretches on for hours. Soon, Ms. Ahn speaks again, this time turning to you. “Y/N, is there anything you’d like to share with the class?”

Glancing up at her, you began to shake your head, only to pause when your sibling’s words from that morning return to your mind. “Don’t let people treat you differently just because you’re from the Outer Sector, okay? We have to be proud of it, show them we’re not that different from them.” The soft smile they gave as they buttoned your coat returns to your mind, and you feel your nerves settle.

Instead of backing down, you nod, taking a deep breath and a step forward. “I’m Y/N. I just moved here from the Outer Sector so my older sibling could work with the Watch.” A few whispers begin, a few more eyes widen, and you square your shoulders, lifting your head high. “They won the Nightingale Commendation and they’re a really powerful Allomancer. My mom and I are really proud of them.” You settle back down and glance to your teacher, finding a glimmer of something like amusement behind her eyes. “That’s all, Ms. Ahn.”

“Thank you for sharing. You can go sit in the empty desk next to Chan, and we’ll begin our lesson.”

The whispers die down as your peers shuffle through their backpacks for tablets, notebooks and pencils but, unbeknownst to you, one pair of curious, dual-toned eyes follows you across the room as you sit next to the bubbly boy with the brightest, most genuine smile you think you’ve ever seen.

Wooyoung watches you as you settle down next to his friend, quickly recalling the conversation he had with Yeosang all those months ago. Something about the way your eyes lit up when you spoke, boldly announcing to the sixth grade class that, yes, you were from the other side of the Ring, before any rumors could begin swirling made the boy curious. I want—no, need, to be her friend, Wooyoung tells himself, already beginning to plot the how of his operation.

His plan begins at lunch on that first day. Changbin and Yeonjun are waving at him, calling him over to join them at their usual table, but he spares them only a bright grin and a quick, excited wave as he carries his lunchbox to the far corner of the room, where you’ve tucked yourself safely away. You don’t acknowledge him as he settles down, your eyes locked on the sandwich and chips you’d packed yourself that morning.

Distantly—warily—you become aware of the weight of your table shifting as someone settles across from you. You sigh internally—and so it begins. Thankfully, whoever it is keeps quiet, unpacking their own meal and letting an appetizing combination of scents waft in your direction. You allow yourself a quick glance up, eyes still fixed only on the food, to sate your curiosity as your stomach grumbles at the enticing aromas. Though you can’t see their face, you can see your unexpected companion hesitate, their hands freezing for a moment under your scrutiny.

Sighing, you pick up your own sandwich as your body loudly protests again and, without anywhere else to direct your attention, you meet the eyes of the boy who had decided to join you. The smile he gives you along with his wave is blinding, and you have to take a moment to process, wondering how someone can be so joyful at school, of all places.

“Hi. I’m Wooyoung. We’re in the same class,” he greets, and you nod in response—his single, vibrant blue eye stuck out among the matching pairs that stared you down earlier.

You blink slowly at the boy across from you, brow furrowing slightly and eyes narrowing warily.

“You don’t have to tell me your name, Y/N, Miss Ahn already said it,” he continues, barely distracted by the small feast he’s pulled from his bag. “I think we should be friends. You seem really cool!”

You recoil a bit in confusion as you meet his eyes again. “’M not cool,” you grumble in protest, “’m just some dumb loser kid from the other side of the Ring.”

Wooyoung’s megawatt smile falls into a concentrated frown. “Who said that? I’ll beat them up. Or ask Yeonjun to. Or my big brother. Oh, or yours! They're probably really good at fighting if they’re on the Watch so young.”

You ignore his assumption about your sibling with a little huff, asking instead, “Who’s Yeonjun?”

Your companion’s face lights up, his lips pulling once more into a grin. “He’s one of my best friends! He’s in the other class with Yeosangie and Changbin.” For a moment, he goes quiet, his pout returning. It’s all you can do not to giggle—he looks the epitome of a petulant child like that. “My mom put me in the other class with Channie and Sangie’s mom because she said Changbin, Yeonjun and I cause too much trouble together.” This time, your sigh is an exasperated one. I didn’t ask for your life story. “They’re over there,” he turns to gesture across the cafeteria to a group of four boys, their eyes all focused on your table, “where I usually sit. You should—”

“Why aren’t you sitting with them?” You cut in, eyes narrowing as you tilt your head.

Again, Wooyoung falls silent for a moment, blinking hard in confusion. “Because I’m already friends with them.”

“Don’t friends usually sit together?”

Wooyoung frowns deeply, brows scrunching up. “Yeah. But if I sat with them, I wouldn't be able to make friends with you.”

It was your turn to frown, that same pout that reminded him so much of his best friend on your face. “You… actually want to be my friend?”

The boy in front of you blinks rapidly, tilting his head in confusion once more. “Well, yeah. You probably don’t have a lot of friends here, right? So I thought I could help with that! I like making friends and, like I said before, I’m friends with Chan too, the guy you sit next to, so he can be your friend too, and Sangie lives down the street from you—”

“Young-ah!”

You both startle as one of the boys he’d pointed out earlier plops down next to Wooyoung, slinging an arm around his shoulder. Your defenses rise again at record speed, eyes narrowing with suspicion, and Wooyoung deflates a little, watching you close up at Changbin’s boisterous entrance.

“Why didn’t you come sit with us? You’re not replacing us, are you?” The teasing lilt to his friend’s voice makes Wooyoung start to giggle, but when he glances back to you, your jaw is tight again, a frown pulling at your lips. There’s little hint of the girl who’d been so bold before—you look a bit like a frightened animal ready to sprint away or pounce.

“Nope, I’m just making us a new friend!” He supplies quickly. “This is Y/N, she’s new in mine and Chan’s class with Yeosangie’s mom. Y/N, this is Changbin, one of my best friends!”

You sit silent and still, face still pinched. Wooyoung opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say a word, you spring to your feet, tucking your unfinished sandwich away. “Nice to meet you both. I’ll see you in class, Wooyoung. I have to go talk to the Headmaster about, um. Stuff.”

For a moment, he frowns, considering your flimsy excuse. Then, to your surprise, he softens, regaining the grin you’re quickly learning is his signature. “Oh, that’s my mom! I can show you to her office. I kind of want to say hi to her anyway!”

Your eyes go wide and you pale. “Th-That’s okay, um, she said I should just come by myself and I was in her office this morning already, so I know where it is! I’ll just see you after lunch!”

Before he can so much as wave, you’ve scurry out of the lunch room, leaving Wooyoung and his friend to stare after you in shocked silence.

Changbin broke it, tilting his head. “She reminds me of when I first met Yeosang.”

If it hadn’t been before, the comparison to his oldest friend sealed the deal for Wooyoung. He had to be your friend.

Despite your best efforts, you quickly find avoiding Jung Wooyoung to be a futile quest. If he didn’t find you in class, his friend Lee Chan would lean over from his seat next to you with comments that were making you giggle with increasing frequency. Seo Changbin had attached himself to you after that first meeting too, bringing with him Choi Yeonjun and the quieter Kang Yeosang. You recognize all of them once you’re properly introduced; Chan from class, Changbin and Yeonjun from that first day in the cafeteria and Yeosang from the house two down from your new one, just like Wooyoung said.

Slowly, you find yourself warming up to the five boys, each of them welcoming you into their fold with open arms. They began to provide a welcome respite from the sideways glances you received immediately following your move, Wooyoung and Chan working as buffers in class and the others joining them outside of it. The only one you had any “trouble” with was Yeosang, his quiet demeanor frequently leading to him fading into the background when the entire friend group was together.

Luckily, though, he does live just down the street from you, and you quickly gather that his house is one of Wooyoung’s favorite places to be during his downtime.

The first time the pair appears on your doorstep, you find yourself cowering behind the curtains of your mother’s bedroom window, only risking a single, brief glance after some amount of silence. With your sibling at work, the chore of your mother’s nightly routine naturally falls to you and, while you had become rather fond of your friends over the recent weeks, you still couldn’t stomach the thought of explaining her condition to them. You barely understood it yourself, after all.

So, you find yourself shamefully hiding away, frowning as Wooyoung’s voice filters up through the cracked window. “That’s so weird. I saw her come in after school and she hasn’t left… Maybe they have a back door she went out of?”

“You don’t think she’s avoiding us, do you?” Comes Yeosang’s hesitant reply, and your heart does something funny in your chest.

“Of course not! We’re her friends. Friends don’t avoid friends,” Wooyoung huffs, and the funny feeling in your chest tightens. “She’s probably just taking a nap or something. We’ll ask her about it tomorrow, come on.”

You risk another glance as their footsteps begin to recede, sighing in relief. You need a plan.

The next day comes and, unsurprisingly, Wooyoung corners you within minutes of the lunch bell ringing. “Y/N-ie! Where did you go last night?”

You can feel yourself flush. You never got around to making that plan. “I, uhm, what do you mean, Wooyoungie?”

“Sangie and I went over to your house last night to see if you wanted to hang out, but you weren’t there. Which is weird considering we all walked home together and then I never saw you leave.”

You can feel heat in the tips of your ears and apples of your cheeks building. “Oh, I, uhm. I was…” Your brain flickers back to the evening before, searching for any kind of excuse. “I was taking a nap!” You offer quickly, smiling tightly as you recalled the boy’s excuse for you.

“I told Yeosangie that, but he didn’t want to believe me!” he nearly shouts, drawing a few glares from nearby teachers and strange looks from your peers. “C’mon, let’s go tell him I was right! He thought you were avoiding us.”

Your heart does that funny tight thing again, and you hope the regret from your white lie isn’t seeping through your smile.\

“Berry,” you start, earning a playful glare from your sibling, “what do you tell your friends about Mom and Dad?”

“Because Wooyoung and Yeosang tried to come over a couple of days ago after school, but I… I didn't want to let them in and have to explain about Mom because I didn't know what to say, so I kind of just hid and I don't want to do that again.”

The look they give you feels almost the same way that weird tight heart thing did. “You don't have to tell your friends anything you don't want them to know, okay?”

“But I don't want to lie to them. I already did yesterday, and I feel weird about it. I really don’t want to do it again. Friends are supposed to be honest with each other, y’know?”

Luxe smiles and your heart warms as you return it. “That's very thoughtful of you, Bug. You’re right, friends shouldn’t lie to each other, but you don't have to tell them anything you aren’t ready to. You can tell them what I told you at first, that Mom’s sick.”

You frown, huffing a sigh and pushing your plate away from you. Suddenly, you’re not hungry anymore. “But what if they ask questions?”

This time, the smile Luxe gives you has a taste of something wrong in it. Their eyes seem just a little off as they push their plate away too and fold their hands in front of them. “Then you can tell them you don’t want to talk about it.”

Your frown deepens into a scowl. “But isn’t that rude? Friends share like… Everything, right?”

Your sibling pauses, thoughtful for a moment, before they finally respond. “They can, but I think if they’re good friends, ones who are worth it, they’ll respect your boundaries. What do you think?”

For a moment, you ponder the proposal then, slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Okay.”

Your sibling’s smile loses its touch of tightness and they grin, scooping up both of your plates and starting for the kitchen. “Come on, go get ready for school.” You groan, and barely catch the way Luxe chuckles quietly to themself as they clean up the remnants of your breakfasts. “Don’t you want to go see your friends? You’ll have plenty of time to hang out with them after, since I’m home today, but you won’t if I call you in sick.”

You fix your sibling with your most scathing glare. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” they hum, ruffling your hair affectionately as they pass. “Now go get ready, I’ll check on Mom, and I’ll walk with you to the Academy.”

You go, but not without another dramatic groan of protest. Luxe grins behind your back, shaking their head affectionately.

When you finally walk out of the school again for the afternoon, Wooyoung and Yeosang are buzzing with just as much excitement as you for your afternoon adventures. Over lunch, they’d told you all about the gardens they frequent and the pile of scrap metal they’d squirreled away in Yeosang’s backyard to tinker with, and you find yourself bouncing happily as your eyes roam the crowd of parents and guardians and older students in search of your sibling.

The moment you find them, you grab your friends by their wrists and drag them through the crowd, face pulling into a wide grin you expected to see returned.

“Berry!” You call as your friends scramble after you, Wooyoung with a squawk of protest, pulling your sibling’s attention to you. The smile they give you is weak as they bend at the waist, arms opening up to you.

You frown and slow, dropping Wooyoung and Yeosang’s hands. Usually, Luxe would greet you after any time away by kneeling to meet your height, scooping you up for a hug and spinning you around for their ‘day off workout’, as they called it. They only passed on your little tradition on days like today, when they were dressed in their Watch uniform and unwilling to let you crease or dirty its crisp grey material.

Behind you, Wooyoung makes a noise of question as your joy slowly slips away from you.

“I thought you didn’t work today.”

Luxe’s tight smile falls, their eyes dropping guiltily to the ground at their feet as they straighten up. “I know, Bug, but there’s been an emergency.” With a quick breath, their eyes meet yours once more, a sadder sort of smile on their lips now. “But I made sure my Captain knew I had to see my baby sister off first. Listen,” they pause, taking another quick breath as their brows knit together. “I know I said I’d be home to take care of… things today, and I promise I’ll make it up to you next time.”

“So I can hang out with my friends next week, but not this week?”

To your surprise, your sibling shakes their head vehemently. “No, you can still spend time with Wooyoung and Yeosang today—”

One of the boys in question cuts them off with a victorious whoop, and Luxe chuckles, shooting a fond smile over your shoulder.

“But can you stay in the neighborhood and check in regularly? Just in case Mom needs anything. You said Yeosang lives near us, right?”

You nod and their eyes turn to the boys behind them, glancing between the two until the pair nod as well. “So that means you have at least two places you can go; our house and Yeosang’s, if his guardian says it’s okay. I’m sure it’s not as exciting as whatever you three had planned before, but again, I’ll make it up to you next time, okay?”

Still frowning, you nod. “Okay. Can you at least walk us home?”

Luxe sighs heavily and mirrors your frown, shaking their head once more. “I can’t, I have to go now. Yeosang, Wooyoung,” they turn their gaze back to your friends in turn, “I expect you to keep my little sister safe on your walk home, okay? I’m counting on you.”

You glance over your shoulders just in time to see Yeosang’s ears turn pink as he gives a nod, Wooyoung following suit with his usual bout of extra energy. “You can count on us!”

Your sibling grins proudly, reaching out to pat each of the boys on their heads approvingly. “Good, thank you.”

You roll your eyes, huffing a sigh at their overprotectiveness.

“Y/N,” they turn back to you, opening their arms half-heartedly. “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

Like you have so many times before, you stretch up to throw your arms around your sibling’s neck, squeezing them tight enough they’d complain you’d creased their uniform. “Be safe, Berry.”

Sure enough, they flash you a glare as they brush invisible creases from the material. “You too, Bug. And have fun.”

YEARS: 1012-1014

Your walks home together quickly become a daily occurrence, after that. Most of the time, it’s just you, Wooyoung, and Yeosang, chatting idly about the latest bizarre creations you’ve dreamed up from the scrap pile in Yeosang’s backyard in the name of amateur Technomancy. Some days, Chan, Changbin and Yeonjun join you, though more frequently than not, the former two beg off to tend to “family matters.”

“Chan has siblings,” Wooyoung explains one day, although you hadn’t asked him to. “He’s the oldest, too, so he has to wrangle them most days; kind of like your sibling does with you, sometimes.” You look away at that to hide your frown. “Changbin’s family is kind of high up in the political world, so he has a lot of functions and stuff his parents make him go to.”

And they probably don’t want him associating with someone from the other side of the Ring, your brain provides, unhelpful as usual. The way he always breaks off from your group before his parents can see him hasn't escaped your notice.

Yeonjun is about a fifty-fifty shot on whether or not he joins you—he seems to live entirely on the other side of the Inner Sector though, so it isn’t often that he makes the trek all the way out to your neighborhood. Sometimes, Wooyoung will join him on his after school adventures, but most of the time he seems to prefer sticking beside you and Yeosang, chatting your ears off as you return to your half-done projects. You spend every day with the boys that you possibly can, and when you can’t, they see you into your front door with eager waves, promises to see you in the morning, and many a plea from Wooyoung to stay and join them. For a while, you can see Yeosang elbowing him in the side but, eventually, he gives up and just grins at you too.

It’s a routine you’re truly happy with, and you never feel alone, which is more than you could say for the few acquaintances you had in the Outer Sector. True to the stories you’d heard before your move, the people within the Ring seem to have more free time than anyone ever had in the Outer Sector. You can recall the local seamstress’ son running you and your sibling completed orders, eyes tired but a bright smile always on his face, and the fisherman’s adopted son dragging in the morning’s haul with him as his brother manned the booth, fending off the crowds before sale began. No one seems to do that here, or if they do, you don't see it.

For the first year, it’s a bit jarring. You explore what must be the entire Inner Sector with your friends, skirting around the Symposium, and all the shops have fronts, woven neatly into the middle of residential streets. There are a few squares and, sometimes, the stores take up a little bit of space in the streets before them to show off specials, but no one here maintains a ramshackle booth. There's no open-air market here. You think the stares you receive would be doubled upon anyone who would dare try it. It’s pretty and it’s new, but some part of you longs for the hustle and bustle of the too-cramped piers.

You voice as much to Yeosang one day, sprawled out in his backyard under the sun as summer morphs to fall. He hums thoughtfully.

“It would be cool to see where you grew up. You’ve seen most of mine and Wooyoung’s lives, we should see yours.”

You nod. “I’d like to show you. But there’s that gate, and there’s no chance they’ll let three kids from the Inner Sector through. The guards all act like it’s some free-for-all out there, even though it’s really not. Just a little busier and more cramped.”

Yeosang looks at you, a little confused. He’s about to say something before he’s cut off by a shout, Wooyoung joining the two of you once again from the house. You both sit up eagerly, and your worries are quickly forgotten.

The next year goes by in a similar fashion—despite your classmates swapping around, it seems you and your friends remain separated in the same groups the next year. Wooyoung pouts about it, naturally, whining that he can’t be in the same class as you and Yeosang both on the way home from the first day of the next school year, taking turns leaning on each of your shoulders while you walk home. The three of you collapse into a heap when you make it to Yeosang’s backyard, Wooyoung pinning the two of you below him as you and Yeosang share a fond look, tuning him out as you collapse into a fit of quiet giggles.

Its on one of these days, early in the year, that you first hear the words “Adept Potential Evaluation.” It’s Wooyoung, ever-excitable, who brings it up first.

“I’m excited for it. What if I become the first Technomancer with Allomantic abilities or something?”

From where he’s tinkering with his latest creation, Yeosang snorts. “They wouldn’t let you study both even if you did test for both. Which, in case you’d forgotten, is unheard of.”

Wooyoung narrows his eyes, tossing a spare bolt at his friend and, inexplicably, you feel a little pang of anger at the older boy as it hits his shoulder. “Hey, I can dream, okay? Not all of us have Adept parents.”

You watch Yeosang’s brow furrow and he straightens too, setting his project aside. “That’s not what I meant, Young-ah. I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just being realistic.”

“It did come off a little harsh,” you cut in, frowning.

In an instant, Yeosang shrinks back into himself, and you feel the anger that had so quickly welled up within you evaporate. Woyooung, too, softens.

“Sorry, Sangie. I know you didn’t mean it like that, I’m just… I’m worried, is all,” he admits.

Yeosang gives an understanding smile, nodding. “I think we all are.”

You squirm uncomfortably, frowning at the ground. “I’m always nervous for tests, but, um… what is this one for, exactly?” You ask, sheepish.

Wooyoung startles, and Yeosang seems to mirror his shock. It’s the latter who replies. “I figured they would have told you when you enrolled. Your sibling probably took it, too. It’s this… aptitude test, I guess, to see whether or not you’re an Adept.”

The frown you give is disgusted enough to have both boys laughing at you. “Why does it matter?”

Their laughter stops, replaced with confused looks again. “They really didn’t tell you anything about how the Academy works, huh?” Wooyoung asks, head tilted. “We split into different tracks next year. Allomancers are one program, Technomancers another, and non-adepts another.”

You must pull another face, because Yeosang quickly adds, “It’s not fool-proof. Sometimes non-adepts end up being Adepts later in life, but it helps make sure people can hone their abilities before they graduate. And, honestly, without it, it would be really hard to detect Shells or anyone who can use the Internal Metals.”

Slowly, you nod. “Makes sense, I guess. Still weird, but I don’t think I’m nervous for it.” When both boys glare at you, you shrug half-heartedly. “I don’t really have anything to lose if I do end up as a non-adept.” A pang of sadness flares up, just as potent and sudden as your burst of anger earlier, and you quickly turn back to the little metal sculpture you’ve created, thankful when Wooyoung moves on to other topics.

In preparation for the evaluation, your classes that year turn toward specifics of Allomancy and Technomancy. A select few of your peers, like your sibling, boast abilities they’ve found through happenstance. One of the girls does the same thing your brother can, sending a paper clip flying dangerously close to their eye with a mighty Pull, and another boy brings a construct he Animated himself. With each new display, you can see Wooyoung sink back into his desk a little more, his eyes cast down at the wood below him. He sulks through every presentation, radiating a grumpiness you sometimes swear you can feel, though no one else looks affected by it.

When you bring it up to Yeosang, his brow furrows thoughtfully, but he shakes his head. “He’s always kind of been like that. A big presence, y’know? Just as easily as he can make the room happier, he can bring it down if he’s feeling pissy enough. It’s just who he is.”

You accept the explanation and shrug the strange feeling off, even as it begins to come more often, even as it begins to slip into your backyard hangouts with the pair. It’s a slow shift, but you find him snapping at the pair of you more frequently, and you feel like you’re reacting more along with it. Yeosang, too, seems to have less patience for his best friend than usual.

The winter chill is once again beginning to settle around you when things come to a head. You’re in your usual spot in Yeosang’s backyard, sprawled out the grass and fiddling with a stray piece of wire. The elder of the two is relaying the day’s events; apparently this time a boy in his class had turned out to be a Coinshot.

“That would be cool,” you muse, twisting the wire into a spiral around your finger. You hold it loosely in front of your eyes, pouting and squinting with focus as you imagine it. “Being able to just…” You ignore Wooyoung’s scoff as you trail off, imagining the metal flying off into the sky.

Something within you responds, a fire burning low in your belly. A flash of blue lights up the path from your chest to the wire, and you gasp as it shoots upward, your body following the momentum as you shoot upright. The line remains as you sit up and the wire changes direction with you, almost as if you’re—

“—Pushing.” Yeosang sounds amazed as you tune back into the world around you.

The blue line—lines, you realize now; they’re a thick mess where they point to the scrap pile, one for each piece of metal you can see and some trailing off into the distance even—they remain, bursting from your chest in a spray of color. You can’t help but worry a little, glancing between your friends and your chest. Yeosang looks stunned and confused, but his eyes, filled with wonder, are focused on your face. Wooyoung is staring at the ground, still sulking in the way that’s becoming increasingly less uncharacteristic, so you turn back to the elder.

“Do you… see that?”

He blinks, frowns. “See what?”

“There’s… blue.” You gesture to yourself.

For a moment, Yeosang just frowns at you, confused, until realization sees to dawn. “Oh! That’s normal. If you’re a Coinshot or a Lurcher, supposedly there are these little blue lines that show you where there’s metal nearby when you’re burning.”

You eye the scrap pile warily. “That… seems true. I’ll have to ask Luxe if—”

“Wooyoung?” Yeosang cuts you off, and you follow his eyeline to the third of your trio, who’s rising to his feet. “Where are you going?”

“Home. I forgot we have a… thing tonight,” he mutters. “Dad wants the whole family there.”

Anger boils in your chest at an impressive speed, quickly overwhelming the excitement you’d felt a moment ago alongside your revelation. “Is this because I’m an Allomancer and you’re not?” You demand, eyes narrowing.

Wooyoung spins on you, and you could swear his blue eye is glowing. “You don’t know that yet! We haven’t been evaluated—I could still be an Adept! Just because my family aren't Adepts—”

“That’s enough, Wooyoung.” A stern voice cuts through the chaos, Yeosang’s mother stepping out onto the deck, and all three of you turn to her.

The anger deepens, and you feel your fists clench at your sides for a flash before it’s gone. It dissipates in a moment, replaced with a low pulse of hurt and a lot of confusion.

Ms. Ahn’s stiff shoulders slacken at the same moment, and you see her sigh as if in relief. “You have nothing do worry about, Wooyoungie,” she soothes as she comes down the steps to join you, a smile on her face. “I can’t be sure, but it seems to me that you’re going to be a very powerful little Rioter.” She pauses to kneel to his level, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. “It’s rude to use your abilities on your friends, though. You need to be more careful, okay?”

For a moment, the three of you stare at her, aghast. She smiles warmly, standing and offering a hand to the boy. “Come inside. I’ll make you all some snacks and we can talk more about it, okay?”

Wooyoung nods silently, feigned family plans all but forgotten, and follows her into the house. You and Yeosang share a look, amused and dumbfounded.

“Well,” he says as you begin to follow after them, “that explains a lot.”

YEARS: 1014-1018

Two weeks later, the Evaluation confirms Ms. Ahn’s suspicions and more; Yeosang is a Seeker, too. Wooyoung greets the two of you after school with the brightest grin you’ve seen from him yet and a squeal of happiness. The three of you will be placed together—”Maybe even in the same classes for once!”—in the Allomancy program next year. Yeonjun is the only one of your other friends to make his way into the Technomancy program, though Changbin and Chan both seem unsurprised and content with finding themselves in the non-adept program.

You carry your results home with a bright smile and a skip in your step, waving to Wooyoung and Yeosang as they continue the trek down the block to Yeosang’s home. The first person you tell is your mother, and you can swear you see her mouth pull into a smile as you read off the results to her.

“L/N, Y/N, projected Prestige Academy class of 1019. Classification, Allomancer. Specialty, Coinshot; Steel.” You pause, sighing, unable to hide your grin. “I’m really excited to see what this means. Maybe I’ll be as good as Luxe one day.”

You wait on the couch for your sibling to come home, eager to tell them, too. The sound of the door creaking open wakes you, and you sit upright as quickly as your sleep-addled little mind can manage. They begin to chastise you for being up past your bedtime but, predictably, halt when you throw your hands around their waist and the paper in your hand crinkles.

“’M a—” A yawn cuts you off, and you’re distantly aware of Luxe mirroring the action. “’M an Allomancer, Berry. Just like Dad.”

Your sibling stiffens and you start to take a step back, confused. They hold you fast, though, kneeling down to eye level with a fresh wakefulness in their gaze. “It was Eval Day,” they say, half a question and half an observation.

You rub your eyes and nod, offering the single sheet of paper out to them readily. They take it, eyes shimmering with excitement, but as they read, you can see some of that weariness seep back into their bones. When they look back up at you, their grin hides something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you, Bug,” they praise, wrapping you back up in their arms. You giggle as they lift you, starting for the stairs. “Did you wait up just to tell me?” Sleepily, you hum confirmation and nod. They chuckle quietly. “Let’s get you to bed. We’ll celebrate next time I’m off, okay?”

Your nod is barely noticeable as sleep begins to take you again.

The celebration comes two weeks later, when they pick you up from school, positively beaming, and scoop you up in their arms. You give your friends a confused, mildly concerned look from over their shoulder, fixing it on them as they set you down. “I’m a Watch Captain now,” they explain, still grinning. “I’ll be working nights, but that means I’ll be home to take care of Mom during the day. You can spend your summer with your friends.”

All three of you perk up, and you jump back into your sibling’s arms with a squeal.

“Let’s go celebrate that and your Eval results, shall we?”

The rest of the school year passes in a blur. A promotion to Watch Captain gives your sibling a more consistent schedule, leaving you with more free time than you had expected. End of year exams and evenings with your friends are all you're left to focus on, and before you know it, the sticky coastal summer heat is settling in. It’s better in the Inner Sector, you think, less stifling the further away from the water you are, but your friends seem to disagree. The first time you suggest going outside is met with a confused blink from Yeosang and a mildly disgusted scoff from Wooyoung.

“I feel like I’m going stir crazy!” You argue. “I need to touch grass. I haven’t gotten to lay in the sun in like a week.”

“What are you, a lizard?” Wooyoung shoots back from where he’s sprawled over the arm of an overstuffed chair. He squawks in surprise when you hurl a throw pillow at him.

“Y/N, we just walked over here. We were outside for a whole thirty minutes like… ten minutes ago. There was so much grass to touch on the way,” Yeosang grumbles.

“Yeah, but if I laid in it, people would have looked at me weird. And you probably would have left me there.”

“I would not have!”

“Yes you would! I had to half-jog to keep up with you, you were so eager to get out of the sun!”

“I’m not meant for the summer, okay?”

“Your birthday is literally in June, Yeosangie. That seems like the definition of ‘made for summer.’”

He has no retort for that, it seems, and as your bickering dies down, the silence that meets your ears feels deafening. The two of you share a suspicious look before turning your gazes to Wooyoung, who has his fingers steepled in thought.

“Uh-oh.”

“What are you plotting over there?”

He sits up to face you, a hopeful look in his eyes. “You know, Sangie, we still haven’t gotten a chance to show Y/N the Gardens.”

It’s Yeosang’s turn to look thoughtful. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s been a while since we’ve been, even.”

“It would solve all of our problems. We can keep out of the sun and heat while Y/N lays in the grass.”

“And no passersby to think she's weird for it either,” Yeosang hums.

You launch another pillow past his head as Wooyoung claps his hands together, drawing your attention. “Let’s go then!”

YEAR: 1015

It's counterintuitive, the way that everything seems to take up more space the further you go into the center of Sector One. The same thought had come to you when you first started exploring the Inner Sector with Wooyoung and Yeosang; it's wasn't by too much, but the houses were farther apart, the yards bigger, and the squares wider. The plants had seemed a little fuller than the ones you’d been used to in the Outer Sector, and the grass seemed greener, as cliché as the thought was. The changes were small, incremental, nearly invisible to those who weren’t looking for them.

Whatever subtlety was employed by the residents of the Inner Sector was blatantly ignored by those within the Symposium, you learn as you cross through the Inner Gates. The chips and cracks in the streets beneath your feet seem to disappear, the cobblestones smoothing out into an immaculately swept path before you. The home you thought big seems miniscule when compared to the manors that rise on either side of you, their towers quickly obscuring the wall as it curves around them.

You don’t realize you’ve stopped in your tracks, jaw dropped as you gape up at them, until Wooyoung reaches up, waving a hand in front of your face. With a start, you blink back into yourself, turning to him. “It’s all so…. huge. Yeonjun lives here?”

He chuckles and nods. “Mhm. Isn't it pretty?”

Slowly, you nod, brow furrowing even as you agree. “It's… big.”

Wooyoung snorts. “Downgraded from huge to big in the last few seconds, huh?” You frown at him, and he continues. “It’s not really that impressive. The Academy is bigger than that.”

Just inside the gates of the Symposium, you stop and cross your arms over your chest. When Yeosang looks back at you, his concern is apparent, eyes flickering between the pair of you. “Yeah, but that’s meant to hold hundreds of students at once, not one family.”

“There can be hundreds of people in one manor, sometimes.” Wooyoung grinned at you. “They throw parties and dinners for important people, so it’s not unheard of.”

Your jaw tightens, and you see something flash in Yeosang's eyes as they dart between the pair of you. “It's not, like, an everyday thing, though. This kind of wealth is…” For a moment, you're speechless, gesturing around at the buildings and their grounds in awe. When you look back at him, he's got an eyebrow cocked up to his forehead, smug. Something in you snaps. “If this type of money exists in Sector One, why did I spend half of my childhood in a two-room house with a leaky roof?”

That shuts him up, perhaps a little too well. Both boys stare at you, jaws agape, and you feel the heat of embarrassment rush up your neck, settling in your cheeks. You turn away, shaking your head. “S-Sorry, that was—”

You’re cut off with a muffled sound of surprise as Wooyoung wraps his arms around you, and the comfort you feel in his familiar embrace is about ten times what it usually is. He sniffles, holding you tight to him as he speaks, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t even think about that.”

Heaving a sigh, you wrap your arms around him in return, words muffled against his chest. “It is what it is, but if you want me to forgive you, stop Rioting me.”

At least he has the decency to look sheepish as you part, your emotions dropping back to their normal level. “Sorry.”

“Quit using your abilities on your friends, Young-ah,” Yeosang chastises as he steps up beside the pair of you, a pensive smile on his lips.

“It’s okay, Youngie, I promise,” you reassure the younger of the pair, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know we grew up really different; I’m not going to be mad just because you don’t see things my way.”

He nods hesitantly. “You know I don’t think you’re any different because you grew up in the Outer Sector, right?”

Surprising even yourself, you let out a breathless laugh and nod. “You don’t have to tell me that, Young-ah. You show me every day. I know.”

For the second time in the past few minutes, you leave the boy speechless. This time, though, it’s him who blushes.

The silence hangs for a beat too long, and Yeosang clears his throat, breaking the pair of you out of whatever trance you’ve found yourself in. “So… Gardens?”

Wooyoung’s flush deepens, and yours returns with a vengeance as you both nod. “Gardens!” he exclaims, his signature grin returning as he starts back down the path. “They’re not that far in, c’mon.”

True to his word, it only takes you about five more minutes of walking before you find yourself staring up at a set of massive wooden doors. To say you’re skeptical as Yeosang pulls the door open for you, bowing a bit dramatically as he ushers you inside, is an understatement. The sight that meets your eyes isn’t too different from the lobby of the bank Luxe has taken you to on occasion, its high ceilings supported by wood and stone. There are a few planters, at least, and a waterfall trickling away that you can hear but not see; you turn to Wooyoung and frown.

“You promised me grass,” you whisper, unwilling to disrupt the near-silence of the room.

He snorts, the effort in holding back his laughter evident in his face. When he speaks, his voice echoes. “There is grass. This is the lobby.”

Yeosang is ahead of the two of you already, beelining toward a second set of doors with a little spring in his step that you don’t think you’ve seen before. When he turns back to you, his grin is wide. “Come on, I wanna show her the tree!”

Warmth fills your chest as you return his smile, eagerly bounding up beside him, Wooyoung following close behind. “What tree?”

“It’s where we spent most of our off time before Sangie moved closer to the Ring and before you came to the Academy. It’s good for climbing, and the branches are wide enough to sit on,” Wooyoung supplies.

“We found it when we were little—”

“—well, my brother showed us, actually—”

“—and we’ve just been coming ever since. It’s been a while though, I think close to a year.”

You frown at that, thoughtful. “Did… Did you guys stop coming here because of me?” Your eyes are wide when you look up at them, pouting just a bit.

Both boys look away from you, red tinting their ears. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” Yeosang stutters.

The furrow in your brow deepens. “I’ve been keeping you from somewhere you love so much?”

Wooyoung steps in front of you, placing his face in your vision and following your gaze with his body when you try to shift it away. “Don’t think of it as a negative thing. We just found something we liked doing more—hanging out with you.”

His words make your heart clench, and you smile. Once again, you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s sweet, Youngie.”

Once again, Yeosang coughs quietly to get your attention. You pull away with a quiet giggle, grinning at him. “Okay, lead the way, mister impatient.”

His smile is soft and fond as he presses a button in the wall. The well-oiled mechanisms within make no sound as the doors in front of you unseal and slide open, verdant green meeting your eyes.

Your jaw drops.

The buildings outside had been their own ostentatious forms of luxury, custom built towers and stained glass windows boasting the wealth of those who lived within them. This was another, and one you thought you much preferred. Like the roads between the manor lawns, the little paths that branch out from beneath your feet and weave their way into the treeline are the only breaks in the vibrant colors of the flora. Bright yellows, reds, purples and oranges pop against the rich browns of the tree trunks and the green carpet of the grass they sprout from, and for a moment, you’re a little overwhelmed, chest tight.

“This has been here this whole time… and you didn’t think to bring me to it?”

The sharp bark of Wooyoung’s laughter breaks the peaceful silence around you. “First we’re abandoning the place to hang with you, then we’re keeping it a secret… Which is it, Y/N-ie?”

Rolling your eyes with a huff, you reach out and shove against Wooyoung’s arm to throw him off balance. You hear Yeosang grunt as the younger of the pair stumbles into him. Another quick shove from him has Wooyoung leaning back toward you, and the flustered apology you’d been preparing dies on your tongue. You catch your friend with a startled squawk, nudging him back the way he’d come.

When Yeosang’s hand lands on Wooyoung’s shoulder for the second time, he takes the time to direct his own momentum, taking a step forward and turning back to meet your twin grins with a grimace and a glare. “If you’re done using me as a pendulum, can we show Y/N what she's been missing?”

Peace and quiet is what you’ve been missing, apparently. Even ever-excitable and energetic Wooyoung seems to mellow when the trees begin to shade you, breathing a sigh that might be relief the moment you step into the shade. You let them lead you a little way down a path, then off of it, until you're staring at a tree with a thicker trunk than you've seen yet, its branches sprawling outward rather than rising toward the roof. Wooyoung is grinning as he pulls ahead of you two in a jog and leaps up to grab at a low branch, pulling himself up with an ease that surprises you. Your eyebrows raise as Yeosang follows, settling comfortably on a branch next to him. They grin down at you, and you shake your head, hopping up to grab a branch next to Wooyoung. He startles a little at the suddenness of it, but is kind enough to bite back his laughter as you pull yourself up with much more effort than either of them.

YEAR: 1016

Though their schedule remains consistent, you see much less of your sibling as school begins anew. The hours they spend on the night watch means your schedules are entirely opposite of each other, leaving the mornings and afternoons as the only time you see them, and even then only for minutes at a time. They come home with just enough time to see you off with a hug in the mornings, exhaustion clear in their face as they usher you out the door. They stop by Yeosang’s house on the days time gets away from you, reminding you to look after your mother needlessly. It’s a bit of a bittersweet routine, but it brings stability to your home you’ve never known, so you sink into it with a sense of peace.

It’s a sunny morning when Luxe comes home looking more exhausted than you’ve ever seen them, their stormy demeanor contrasting the weather of the oncoming spring. The door shuts behind them and you count the seconds before they join you in the dining room, frowning when you hit sixty and there’s no sign of your sibling. Frowning, you stand, peering around the corner into the living room. Luxe hasn’t shed the outer layer of their uniform, the fine fur along their collar sticking out against the worn upholstery of your couch where they’ve sprawled out, eyes shut. You clear your throat and they sit up, a practiced smile plastering itself on their face at the sight of you.

“Morning,” they greet with a yawn.

You tilt your head, thoughtful. “How was work?”

Luxe’s brow furrows, and they hum noncommittally.

You raise an eyebrow. “I know it’s your job to be the guardian, Berry, but you know you can talk to me if you need to, right? I’m not that much of a kid anymore.”

They’re quiet for a long moment. You’ve nearly given up, turning to return to your breakfast, when they heave a sigh. “There was this kid early this morning. About your age, if I had to guess. He… He was lost, we’ll say that.” You frown. “In more ways than one. It worked out, but…” They shake their head. “It was intense. He was a Scrapyard kid by the looks of him.” Another heavy sigh, and they smile at you again, standing and stretching. “Don’t worry yourself about it, Bug,” they hum, ruffling your hair as they pass you by. “Thanks for asking, though.”

The smile you give them in return is confused, but you nod slowly. “Sure, any time.”

Another yawn leaves them as they finally shrug their coat off and fold it over their arm, still weary but less distressed. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

Wooyoung is buzzing with energy when you make it to class that day, glancing over at you every five minutes and tapping his fingers against the desk. He glances in your direction every chance he gets, and your brow furrows questioningly each time your gazes meet. It’s frustrating, the way he continues to turn away from you, desk vibrating with the bouncing of his leg. You try to corner him at lunch but he avoids the topic bluntly, ignoring every time you bring it up. By the end of it, your mutual friends are throwing you confused looks, and no amount of Rioting Wooyoung does to your happiness can counteract the frustration you feel.

You’re ready to ignore him and head home at the end of the day when he dashes up between you and Yeosang, throwing his arms around your shoulders and tugging you both into his side. You grit your teeth and try to shrug him off, but he only pulls you tighter against him.

“Anybody wanna take a trip to the Gardens?”

You frown. “I should get home, Luxe—”

“Has the night off after this morning. Everyone who was working last night gets leave after what happened,” he explains as if it’s common knowledge.

Confusion creases your brow as you turn to him. “What… what do you mean?”

For the first time today, Wooyoung meets your eyes first, and a shiver runs down your spine. “We can talk about it if you come to the Gardens with me.”

You and Yeosang share a look, communicating silently in the way you’ve picked up from them over the years. “Fine,” you agree in unison.

Wooyoung’s lips pull into a tense smile, and he switches your direction, steering you toward your safe haven. He doesn’t bother climbing into the branches, today, instead settling against the trunk of the tree. “What do you think about this whole thing?”

You blink slowly, frustration peaking at the cryptic question. “What whole thing, Wooyoung? What is your deal today? Why have you been all weird, and what do you mean Luxe has the night off? They’re my sibling, they would have told me if their schedule changed—”

“They didn’t tell you?”

Your jaw clenches. “Tell me what?!” Yeosang settles a hand on your shoulder, and you take a deep breath.

Wooyoung blinks. “They stopped some Scrapyard Techie from blowing up half the Outer Sector this morning… and they didn’t bother to tell you?”

All at once, your frustration vanishes. You blink once, twice, and lower yourself to the grass, Yeosang following. “What?”

“I can’t believe they wouldn’t tell you about this! Hyung told me about it this morning—he heard it from one of his friends,” Wooyoung starts, eyes wide. “Apparently some kid came in from the Scrapyard last night and when the guards cornered him, he pulled a massive automaton out of nowhere and nearly crushed the whole block. One of the guys had to run off to get Luxe—Watch Captain and all—” you roll your eyes, nodding, “and they like… talked him out of destroying whatever he could reach. Got him to surrender the automaton and took him in, I guess. Your sibling’s a hero.”

You blink slowly, stunned.

“It’s kind of weird, though,” he continues, laying back in the grass and pillowing his arms under his head, “because apparently this was just on the other side of the Ring. I’ve always been told that kind of stuff happens further out.” He frowns. “I wonder if this was a fluke or if the Speakers have been lying to us. It makes me wonder…”

The dam holding a whole day’s thoughts has broken, but your best friend’s ramblings quickly become white noise as you process what he’s just told you, weighing it against your sibling’s words from that morning.

He was lost, we’ll say that.

Your sibling’s a hero.

Just like your father.

YEAR: 1018

Another promotion comes quicker than you thought possible, only three years after the last, and your sibling’s speedy rise through the ranks of the Sector Watch becomes a hot topic as graduation creeps closer. Their shiny new “Watch Master” title seems to gain you some amount of notoriety among your classmates, and you’re unsure what to do with it. Fewer distasteful looks follow you throughout the halls of the Academy and the streets of the Inner Sector, and you find Wooyoung’s family inviting you and Luxe over more often, though your sibling can rarely attend. Changbin and Chan don’t scurry off after school quite as quickly as they did before, instead taking the time to talk with you, Yeosang and Wooyoung before you split off in your different directions. Some days you head into the Symposium, curling up in what’s become your spot in the gardens and sharing stories about the few classes you have separate from your best friends while you ignore your homework. Less time is spent in Yeosang’s backyard, and the pile of scrap metal that used to be so large dwindles. None of you are Technomancers, you know now, and now that you’re well into your teenage years, there seems little reason to keep pretending.

You can’t be both, after all.

Things change for the better, subtly, bit by bit. Luxe has to upend their sleep schedule again, shifting from working five nights a week to most days a month, but after the first few weeks, they’re back to their normal self. Now that they’re not on guard duty, they have the freedom to come home and check on your mother, leaving you free to maintain the routine you love so much. You’re both happy to have matching schedules again, and on their monthly three days off, you notice some of the citizens you pass by greeting them with a smile and a nod. Pride swells in you each time, though you stop pestering them about it once it becomes a regular occurrence.

The only real surprise comes at the end of your second-to-last year at the Academy. Luxe has been attending the graduation ceremonies each year since their own passed—”It’s an obligation that came with that pretty copper medal I have,” they explained when you were younger—but never once had you gone with them. Wooyoung explained some time earlier in the year that the incoming class of graduates was expected to attend the ceremony of their seniors, you recalled now that you were staring across the table at your sibling, jaw hanging open.

“I thought he was kidding.”

Luxe raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “No. It’s a tradition at the Academy. Unfortunately for you, that means you’ll probably be expected to join me at the Vanguard Ceremony as well.”

You crinkle your nose. “Why?”

They shrug. “To be polite? I don’t know—the politicking is still a little beyond me. Ask Wooyoung. He probably knows, or at the very least has a theory.”

“But you didn’t do that,” you grumble.

“Yes, I did. You probably just don’t remember.”

You sigh, poking at the food on your plate. “Can’t we just say that Mom needs me or something?”

It’s nearly imperceptible, the way Luxe tenses. If you weren’t their sister, you would have missed it. “No. You need to go; it’s tradition. I know it’s not fun for you and probably seems silly, but tradition matters a lot to the people here. And aren’t you getting graded on it?”

Groaning, you rub at your brow. “Don’t remind me.”

Your sibling shrugs. “Just doing my brotherly duty. It’s only your grades at stake; why would that matter?” They stand, the way they avoid your gaze pointed, and you scowl at their back as they stroll into the kitchen.

The ceremonies are as boring as you expected. You’re pleased when Wooyoung and Yeosang stick around for the second ceremony to honor the graduating Vanguard—apparently a few of the Speakers’ sons are graduating, and the Jungs need to attend to keep their political allyships. Yeosang shrugs when you ask why he’s staying, telling you it’s better than sitting at home alone. Wooyoung seems excited, grinning as the newest recipient of the Nightingale Commendation takes the stage. Luxe looks a bit nostalgic and proud as the cadet makes his speech, and you narrowly resist the urge to tease them right then and there.

You and Yeosang hug the wall as the post-ceremony congratulations begin, your sibling ducking out for a moment to congratulate a few of the cadets they seem to recognize and Wooyoung following his mother around after flashing the pair of you a hearty pout.

“Is this what we have to look forward to next year?” You mutter.

Yeosang snorts. “I don’t know about you, but I am not interested in the Vanguard Program. Even if you were, honestly, I doubt Luxe would let you anywhere near it—too much violence.”

For a moment, you open your mouth to argue—Luxe went through the program themself, after all—but think better of it. “You’re probably right.”

The time seems to pass quickly as you and Yeosang scan the crowd, quietly commenting to one another about outfit choices and the haughty demeanors of some of the attendees, giggling quietly at your commentary. If they weren’t so flustered, you think you would have missed Luxe coming up beside you, settling against the wall with their arms crossed.

You mirror their puzzled expression, and they huff a sigh as they answer the unasked question. “We’ve been invited to a party.”

With narrowed eyes, you glance over at them, and open your mouth to speak—

“By a Speaker. No, we can't just skip it.” You groan.

You were, of course, expecting an obscene display of wealth within the walls of the manor, but nothing could have prepared you for this. Crystalline garlands seem to drip from the pillars and ceiling like water, flowing out from the gilded chandelier dominating the foyer. A grand staircase curves down either side of the massive room—you swear it’s the size of your entire house, for Jupiter’s sake—and you find more gold glinting back at you from its railings, the posts wrapped in a deep red velvet. You’d expected to feel out of place here—Luxe warned you that, despite their years of practice at this point, they still weren’t entirely adjusted—but this… The dress clothes your sibling had helped you pick out feel like rags in the face of the riches in front of you. And this is just the entryway.

You don’t realize you’ve stopped in the doorway, jaw agape, until you feel your sibling’s hand settle between your shoulder blades, nudging you forward just gently enough to keep you from stumbling. Flashing them a glare is second nature, but instead of meeting their teasing grin, you find yourself looking at a near stranger.

Luxe stands tall beside you, face painted in an expression of careful, pleasant neutrality that you’re not used to seeing. You blink, opening your mouth to question them; before you can, a lithe, grinning figure steps up to them, a drink in one hand and the other extending toward your sibling.

“Watch Master,” the man croons, and you barely contain the grimace that threatens to surface. Luxe smiles, though it doesn’t reach their eyes, and you frown a little. “So glad you could make it.”

“Junghwa,” they greet, shaking the man’s hand and bowing in greeting. “It was very kind of Speaker Park to invite us.”

“Of course,” he hums, “all of the most important people in the Sector are here. How could we not?”

Something in the man’s demeanor irks you, though you can’t quite place what. He slides his arm around Luxe’s shoulders, stepping between the two of you, and you watch a muscle in your sibling’s jaw twitch.

“Come, you must be interested in meeting the guest of honor officially, so—” the man continues, steering your sibling toward the grand staircase, and to your surprise, you watch them pull away from him a bit too quickly to turn back to you. The stranger balks.

“Of course, I’d love to congratulate the newest member of the Nightingale family,” they reply, their pleasant smile having returned, “but I should make sure my sister is settled first.”

It’s as though the man—Junghwa—is seeing you for the first time, though you’ve been beside Luxe since before his appearance. You school your expression into something you hope mimics your sibling, bowing respectfully even as his calculating gaze drags over your form and makes your skin crawl. The smile he gives you when your eyes meet again isn’t half as wide as the one he’d greeted your sibling with, and his expression hides what can only be disdain poorly.

Throat tightening, you shake your head, smile tight as you turn back to Luxe. “I’ll be okay. I’m probably just going to go find Yeosang and Wooyoung—”

“Jung Wooyoung?”

You blink and frown at Junghwa as he interrupts you. “Y-Yes. They said they would be here when we talked this afternoon, so—”

His demeanor shifts to something closer to what he greeted your sibling with, and he steps away from them just a bit, leaving enough room between the two for you to walk beside them. “Coincidentally, both your objective and ours are upstairs,” he provides, gesturing toward the grand staircase. “You’re more than welcome to join us, Miss…?”

“Y/N,” you provide, and as you step into the space he cleared, you see Luxe relax a little. “Thank you.”

Seeing your friends is a relief. Your shoulders fall from your ears as you cross into the dining room, and you break into the small talk Luxe and Junghwa are making with a gentle hand on your sibling’s forearm, nodding toward the corner Wooyoung is waving at you from. They smile and nod as they catch his eye, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “Go have fun. I’ll come find you when we need to head home.”

Smiling, you wave goodbye to both him and Junghwa, bowing to the latter. You walk off as quickly as you can without seeming rude, relaxing more the further you get from the older man’s gaze and the closer you get to your friends. You can feel the moment he turns his focus entirely back to your sibling, a sigh of relief leaving you as you float into Wooyoung and Yeosang’s orbit.

“Are all the manors like this on the inside?” You whisper as you join up with the pair, eagerly taking the drink Wooyoung offers out to you.

“For the Speakers… pretty much, yeah,” he confirms with a shrug. He looks natural here, his suit pressed and tailored.

“Jupiter above.” You down whatever is in the thin flute and cough around the carbonation. Wooyoung and Yeosang both bite back giggles, the former with some struggle. Your eyes narrow. “What?” As their gazes remain fixed on you, small grins plastered on their face, anxiety seizes you. “Please don’t tell me I’ve already made a fool of myself.”

“No, stopping in the doorway and gaping before downing an entire glass of champagne is the perfect first impression to high society.”

You flush bright red, and send Yeosang a grateful smile as he elbows Wooyoung in the ribs hard enough to force a grunt out of the younger. “It’s not the worst first impression we’ve ever seen, honestly,” he admits with a shrug. “The Watch Master themself was worse.”

You wrinkle your nose at the title, pulling a laugh from both of your friends. “What did they do?”

The grin Wooyoung gives you is wicked. He gestures dramatically toward a circle of chairs and couches in the corner, and for a moment, you’re reminded of the man that greeted you. Your stomach turns. Must be a Symposium thing, you decide.

“Join me where it’s a little more comfortable and I’ll tell you.”

You have a second glass of champagne in your hand by the time Wooyoung finishes his story, cheeks sore from giggling and grinning. You’ve just gathered your wits when Wooyoung stands suddenly, startling both you and Yeosang as he extends a hand to someone behind you.

“There’s the man of the hour! I haven’t seen you all night. Too busy with all your new elite friends to come say hi to your favorite dongsaeng?”

You turn over your shoulder just in time to see the commendation recipient—Kim Hongjoong, you recall—take a step toward your group, a smirk pulling at his lips. The flat look he fixes Wooyoung with instead does nothing to hide the fondness twinkling behind his gaze. “I would have preferred it to be sooner, but Speaker Park has kept me busy with introducing me to anyone he deems important enough,” he sighs. You catch a flicker of hurt in his gaze, and you try and follow it across the room, but you can’t seem to pick anything out of the crowd. Wooyoung hums knowingly, and you file it away to ask him about later.

When Hongjoong turns back to your group, he’s smiling warmly again. “Yeosang,” he greets with a grin and a wave that your friend mirrors. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Where has Young-ah been hiding you?”

Yeosang chuckles, shaking his head, but you see tension rise in his shoulders. “Ah, you know. The usual places.”

His eyes narrow for a fraction of a second, like he’s picked up on your best friend’s emotions too, before he turns to you. “And you are most certainly a new face. Kim Hongjoong.” He bows deeply.

You flush a bit—he looks a like a prince in his dark suit, you think as he straightens again—and rise to your feet, returning the greeting.

“It’s not often we have new faces,” Hongjoong comments carefully, glancing to Wooyoung as if for an explanation.

“I’m the new Watch Master’s sister. They were given a plus one from the Speaker,” you explain.

A quiet ah leaves him at your words, and he smiles, genuine. “Of course. Speaker Park is… generous that way.” Wooyoung disguises his snort of laughter behind a cough—not well—and, to your surprise, Hongjoong looks like he bites back a wry smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

“You as well, Hongjoong,” you reply politely.

Wooyoung steps up beside you, ready to continue the conversation, but something seems to catch the guest of honor’s eye at the same moment. His smile vanishes as his gaze shifts, replaced with a creased brow and a frown, and once more you follow his gaze only to find yourself confused. “It’s lovely to see you two again as well,” he tells the boys quickly, smile a bit tight. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, though.”

Before any of you can say anything, he steps into the crowd. Wooyoung and Yeosang share a frown.

“Is that… Normal for him?” You ask.

“Not for Hongjoong,” Yeosang mutters. You join them in their frowns.

There’s a clear hierarchy to the way you end up seated, you notice. You, Luxe, and Yeosang end up on the opposite end of the table as the host, Wooyoung’s family seemingly acting as a buffer between the three of you and the rest of the party. They’re pleasant—they know you and Yeosang well, after all, and Wooyoung’s older brother and father seem content to speak with Luxe about their career as you wait for everyone to be seated. Your eyes roam the room, taking in the fine dishware and crystalline glasses, the guests in their silk dresses and suits, one of whom catches your eye unexpectedly. His disoriented—drunk, maybe?—state is what draws your attention, and you startle a bit as your eyes land on his face. For a moment, you think it’s Junghwa despite the fact that he looks closer to your age, but a quick glance reminds you he’s sitting beside Speaker Park. His brother, then.

If not for your curiosity, you’re sure the small scene that follows would have slipped past your notice; no one else seems to pay any mind as he seems to move on instinct to the host’s right. Then the younger brother stops, blinking hard when he sets a hand on Hongjoong’s chair and the man speaks, beginning to rise from it. The other conversations and whirring of little aether ****engines and gears drown out the words that are exchanged between Hongjoong, Speaker Park, and the stunned man, and for a moment, you wish you were a Tineye so you could tune into the conversation. He looks stunned and near tears as he circles the table to sit next to his brother, who is once again wearing a discomfiting grin that you now know he inherited from his father.

A hand waving in front of your face pulls you back to the people around you, Wooyoung’s brow furrowed as he brings your gaze back to him. “You okay over there?”

“Uh, yeah, just…” you try to glance back at the man, frowning at the various bodies blocking your way as the guests pile food on their plates. You follow their lead. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Wooyoung’s expression is the definition of unconvinced, and you nearly drop your plate at the narrowed stare he’s fixing you with. “Come on,” he huffs, following where your gaze had been, “what are you—oh.” He scowls, grinding his teeth. You can almost see the curses he’s swallowing alongside his wine. Yeosang’s brow furrows, and both of you turn to your friend. The young Rioter has never been the best at hiding his emotions, but at the moment, he’s being blatant enough with his distaste that even Luxe picks up on it, turning to you with a questioning, concerned glance between questions from Wooyoung’s brother.

“Park family politicking,” Wooyoung grumbles. Yeosang grimaces, and Luxe seems to wince a bit in understanding.

Your brow furrows further. “Don’t worry about it, Bug,” your sibling murmurs in your ear, at the same time Wooyoung says, “I’ll tell you later.” They frown at your friend, who smiles with a faux innocence and shrugs.

You open your mouth to speak, picking up your fork, but before you can take a bite of the mouthwatering spread you’ve made for yourself, the sound of metal against glass cuts through the room like a knife.

“Everyone, can I have your attention please?” Speaker Park calls. He pauses for a moment, glancing about to make sure all the attention is on him before continuing, “As you all know, we are here tonight to celebrate the recipient of the Nightingale Commendation, Kim Hongjoong. I decided to host as he is a cherished friend of my son, Seonghwa.”

The Speaker smiles at the younger brother—Seonghwa—and your gut twists. It’s like the smile Junghwa had offered your sibling earlier when you entered, but with a glint of something sharper in his eyes. Park family politicking. Your sibling’s shoulders have tightened and a glance across the table toward your friends shows Yeosang shifting uncomfortably and Wooyoung looking downright murderous.

“Before we continue, I feel it is only appropriate that he make a toast to celebrate his future squad mate’s accomplishment.”

The room falls so quiet you swear even the automatons stopped whirring. Seonghwa and Hongjoong wear matching expressions of surprise, and next to the man now in the spotlight, Junghwa smiles that same smile again. You can see the family resemblance as you glance up at his father.

Though you can’t hear what is said from your place, you can tell the elder brother says something, because Seonghwa rises to his feet a bit too abruptly, and sways in place. Hongjoong leans forward as if to stand, but a hand on his shoulder from the host seems to stop him.

Your sibling tenses next to you as shaky fingers raise a near empty glass, as though they’re preparing to jump into action.

“To Hongjoong,” Seonghwa begins, voice strained and shaking. “To a friendship… a friendship that has meant so much to us both. And to… to a future that…” He trails off, and you can see the tears from earlier welling anew as his eyes glaze over. Sympathetic hurt lances through you and you frown, tensing. The silence seems deafening as it drags on, you and others glancing about with concern until the sharp crack of the glass in Seonghwa’s hand shatters the silence.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong gasps, shooting up from his seat as the man winces. Luxe stands too, eyes glued to the younger man’s bloodied hand. A pointed look from the Speaker keeps both of them from aiding his son, Luxe sinking back down next to you with a slow nod and Hongjoong dragging a narrowed gaze back to his friend.

“Stay where you are, Hongjoong.”

You frown. Hadn’t Luxe been ready to help, too? A glance to them is all it takes to register their frustration, jaw tight and eyes burning with something you think might be anger. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a memory begins to rise to the surface.

“Everyone, please excuse my son’s poor manners,” Speaker Park continues, drawing your attention back to the present, “it appears he has had too much to drink.” His father addresses the guests, a tense smile on his face that portrays only his displeasure. “Seonghwa, apologize and then go get yourself tended to.”

You watch as Seonghwa takes a deep, unsteady breath, eyes fixed nowhere in particular, gaze unfocused. Blood drips from between his fingers, staining the tablecloth red, and you can see a few of the Speakers seated near the head of the table turn away, covering their mouths.

“I… I’m… I’m sorry,” he stutters, voice barely audible to you. “I’m so very sorry.” He bows his head once more in apology before quickly turning and practically sprinting out of the room.

Silence rolls across the room in his wake, broken quickly by Speaker Park clearing his throat once his younger son is out of earshot. “I offer my sincerest apologies, everyone,” he says, setting his glass down and bowing deeply, a hand pressed over his heart. “It may be a bit less formal, but perhaps we can return to the ballroom for our dinner.”

An automaton appears at your side with a wave of his hand, and you startle as it plucks your plate and silverware up from in front of you. It turns toward the door and waits as those sitting closer to the head of the table make their way from the room in pairs, chatting with each other in hushed tones. You catch a glimpse of Hongjoong’s profile as he walks beside the Speaker and, though he nods politely along with the words leaving the man’s mouth, you can see the tension in his jaw—he looks a bit sick. Your chest tightens, and you sigh.

You’re the last person out the door, walking alongside Yeosang. The cliques you’d identified earlier are only confirmed as you cross into the ballroom, which has been laid out for more intimate, pre- and post-dinner groupings. Speaker Park and his eldest son have settled with their guests of honor at a table at the front and center of the room, framed by the night outside behind them. A woman dressed in a stark white pantsuit with greying blonde hair and a hard expression settles with them—you think you remember her droning on and leading the call and response at the ceremony—along with another bearing a striking resemblance to Hongjoong—his mother, you guess. Families and friends seem to drift toward each other, and you stick close to Yeosang beside you and Luxe and Wooyoung in front of you, fingers drumming nervously against the side of your wine glass. The room is nearly full by the time you enter. A seat remains open next to Junghwa—meant for his brother, you presume—and Wooyoung’s family begins to head toward the one remaining empty table. Yeosang follows—he’s Wooyoung’s guest, after all—and you see him smile a little as he greets Yeonjun, now seated directly behind the pair.

You frown, looking to your sibling for guidance. Luxe scans the room quickly, more used to these functions than you are, and nods to the opposite side of the room where two open chairs sit together, beside a group of people you don’t recognize. Swallowing your nerves, you give them a soft smile and a nod and begin to follow, only for a voice to make you freeze in your tracks.

“Watch Master,” Junghwa calls. You bite back a grimace as you turn with Luxe, who wears a polite smile. “Why don’t you join us? We have an empty seat, after all.”

You think you see his father frown, but beside him, the blonde woman sits up a little straighter, smiling at your sibling. They look at you, then back at the crowded table. “I’m flattered, but—”

You place a hand on Luxe’s arm, making eye contact with Wooyoung. He’s nodding eagerly, waving you over as Yeonjun kicks the open seat next to him out. “I’ll go sit with my friends,” you offer. Luxe’s smile tightens, but they nod, and you part ways, your automatons following behind diligently.

It’s like a breath of fresh air as you settle between your friends, and for a moment, you wonder if Wooyoung is poking at your emotions to make you relax. He seems just as preoccupied as you are with the light conversation in the more intimate atmosphere of the ballroom, and you quickly brush away the concern, letting yourself sink into the plush chair and relax.

“That was… quite the scene,” Yeonjun mutters as you settle down next to him, and you nod.

“You’re telling me,” Wooyoung grumbles from behind him, turning in his seat to face the pair of you. “If I were Seonghwa, I wouldn’t have been that nice getting put on the spot like that.”

“We don’t… know that he was put on the spot for sure,” Yeosang mutters. “He looked really drunk.”

Wooyoung frowns, and for a split second, you feel frustration you were barely aware of spike. He takes a deep breath, forcing his zinc to turn off, and the feeling disappears. “I don’t think so. I’ve sat in on some of his presentations this year, and he’s a very well-prepared person—almost obsessively so—and a great speaker. If he knew he was going to make a speech tonight, he wouldn’t have been drunk or unprepared. And look at Hongjoong,” your eyes pull up to the guest of honor, seated across from your sibling, “he looks as pissed as he does worried.”

“That’s… fair,” Yeosang concedes with a sigh. “I just don’t know why any parent would do that to their own child.”

You hum in agreement, but Yeonjun and Wooyoung share a look you can’t quite pick up the meaning of.

YEAR: 1019

The last year of your schooling is entirely uneventful, but you come out of it with a much better grasp of your Allomantic ability and graduate with honors. Yeosang does too, and you’re both pleasantly surprised when, despite his marks against him over the years, Wooyoung does well enough to make the honor roll for the year. You attend both of the ceremonies once again, supporting Changbin in his decision to join the Vanguard Program, but this year is blessedly free of upper class afterparties.

The summer is what brings chaos. Just as you begin your new job as a librarian in the Nexus, a flu sweeps through the Outer Sector. Your first instinct is to rush out and check on your friends, thoughts of everyone you spent the first years of your life with falling ill making your heart twist. Luxe barely stops you from dashing out the door with a weary look on their face, reminding you that it’s late enough that travel between the Inner and Outer Sectors is restricted. You heave a sigh and head to bed instead, a restless night ahead of you.

You’re half-awake and the sun is barely peeking over the horizon when your aurvox pings, and you heave a sigh as you roll over to check it. It takes a moment, in your dazed state, to read the words staring back at you from the screen—[URGENT] NOTICE: NEXUS PERSONNEL TRAVEL REGULATION—but when you do, you’re shocked awake. The missive outlines a new constraint on travel between the Inner and Outer Sectors for all employees working directly in the Nexus. Your heart sinks and you hope, silently, that those you knew will see the other side of the mystery flu.

It makes Luxe’s hours longer and, more often than not, the only time you have to spend with your friends is over your lunch break, when you can meet in the gardens or one of the few squares within the Symposium. Wooyoung can tell there’s something troubling you the moment he lays eyes on you, and his Allomantic touch is so light now that you barely notice him tugging at the joy you feel when your eyes land on his figure. You do, though, and flash a glare as you settle across from him.

“You look tired.”

You roll your eyes heartily. “Thanks, Wooyoung, that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear. You’re such a charmer, it’s a wonder you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

He blushes a little and glares back. “How dare I worry about my best friend.”

“You saw the notice?” You redirect.

Something in his posture has you narrowing your eyes at him even as he nods. “Yeah… freaky.”

“I wouldn’t call a flu freaky. Unless you’re a germophobe, which…” You raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re not.”

Wooyoung grimaces, picking at his food. “I guess, but… It’s spread really fast. Like, we knew nothing about this a month ago, and suddenly they’re saying like half of the Outer Ring is sick?” He glances around. “Seems weird to me, I dunno.”

You sigh, leveling him with a flat look. “You’re being a conspiracy theorist again, aren’t you?”

His ears tinge pink as he huffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m just making observations.”

You snort, shaking your head fondly. “Aren’t you always?”

Worry fades to the back of your mind, ever-present but never pressing—after all, what can you do?—through fall. It’s only when the autumn leaves have all fallen and the air has lost all warmth that you consider Wooyoung’s words again—seems weird.

Word spreads quickly in the Nexus. There’s often little to do but study, work and gossip, and the library is a prime spot for both. By now, the flu is old news, and besides, the season for sickness is upon Sector One. Different gossip reaches your ears as you’re shelving late one evening—a Nightingale Commendation recipient has apparently deserted his post and was officially marked absent without leave earlier this morning.

For a moment, your heart stops as you think of your sibling. But no—you saw them this morning, heading off to their shift as usual. It takes a moment of listening, but eventually, you catch a name. Kim Hongjoong.

The memories come back almost immediately of that disastrous dinner and the ceremony that preceded it. His speech was inspiring, his dedication to and respect for the Vanguard apparent in every word. It seemed… Strange, to say the least, that the dedicated new Elite would abandon his post. Luxe shares the same sentiment when you bring it up over dinner, their brows furrowing thoughtfully with a hint of concern.

“I can ask Wooyoung if he knows anything if you're worried. They—”

“No,” Luxe cuts you off quickly and with a little bite, frowning, and you startle a little. They blink and take a breath, softening. “It's okay. If there’s anything I can do, I'm sure I'll hear about it at work. You shouldn't concern yourself with something like this.”

Slowly, you nod. There had been a darkness over their gaze when you brought up Hongjoong's AWOL status. As much as you wish you could pick it apart, you can see the shutters your sibling puts on the topic fall into place and latch tight. They’re worried, even if they refuse to admit it. Silently, you resolve to find a way to take the stress from their shoulders.

When you finish your shift, you’re a little surprised to find Wooyoung waiting outside the library for you, Yeosang by his side. The usually bubbly Rioter is curled in on himself, arms crossed over his chest and leg bouncing furiously. He's dyed his hair a bright shade of red since you last saw him, and you can't help but giggle a little to yourself at the thought that it nearly reflects his mood. Yeosang looks considerably less tense, but there’s worry clear in his eyes as they dart between the library entrance and Wooyoung. He's the first to notice your approach and he seems to sigh in relief.

“Y/N,” he calls, apparently relieved.

That seems to snap Wooyoung out of his thoughts, but not his sour mood. He jumps to his feet. You can tell he has something to say, but the way his eyes dart around anxiously send a silent message—not here.

Sharing a worried glance with Yeosang. You turn to head home, unsurprised when the boys follow with no prompting. “You’re worried about Hongjoong,” you say once you’re seated on the living room. He nods.

“I didn’t think Luxe would have told you,” Yeosang mutters.

You shake your head. “They didn’t. Everyone in the Nexus is a terrible gossip.”

“I talked to Seonghwa,” Wooyoung says suddenly. Both you and Yeosang go quiet, focusing in on him. He thinks for a moment, jaw tight. “Hongjoong had some kind of… Mental break before he disappeared. I guess he came home one night and Joong was panicking, muttering something about a lab… And then he just… shutdown. A few days later, he was gone.”

“He was a Vanguard Sergeant, right? Maybe he just couldn’t handle the stress. Luxe says it’s pretty common.”

To your surprise, both Yeosang and Wooyoung look at you sideways. “I didn’t know him that well, but that’s not like Hongjoong.”

Wooyoung nods in agreement with Yeosang. “He’s always been really good under pressure. And he’s wanted to be in the Vanguard his whole life,” he says, “I can’t imagine why he’d just… snap like that.”

“But Seonghwa wouldn’t lie to you, either. He cared about Hongjoong more than anyone—they were inseparable.”

Again, Wooyoung nods. He’s silent for a long moment, then sighs. “What if this has something to do with that flu?”

Yeosang groans. You don’t see Wooyoung as much, now that you have your careers to think about, but Yeosang sees him almost daily, you know. “Not everything has something to do with the flu, Woo.”

“Okay, but the guy directly under him in command got sick like the day after he left!”

“If he were sick, he’d be in the hospital, not missing,” you say. “And I’m sure that if the flu were making people have psychotic breaks, they’d have more travel regulations than just ‘don’t go to the Outer Sector if you work in the Nexus.’”

“What if they’re trying to hide something like that, though? To not incite mass panic or whatever.”

“I don’t think anyone in the Symposium is sober enough to register what panic is,” Yeosang chuckles.

You nod. “You two can still travel to the Outer Sector, can’t you?”

Both of them nod, Wooyoung frowning. “With the usual amount of difficulty, yeah.”

“Wouldn’t they have locked down the entire Inner Sector if the flu was making people have mental breaks? We’d know whether they wanted us to or not. Like half of the Outer Sector has this thing last I heard. We’d be seeing it.”

Wooyoung’s frown deepens. “Would we, though? We don’t know what happens in the Nexus, not fully anyway. They control what news we receive and what we don’t.” He pauses, wringing his hands as he thinks. You and Yeosang exchange a concerned look. “He was climbing the ranks. He’s one of the most ambitious people I’ve ever known, and he’s never had any mental health issues, no matter what kind of stress he was put under.” He hesitates. “I think Hongjoong found something.”

“Found what, exactly?”

You and Yeosang spin, nearly jumping out of your skin at your sibling’s voice. Wooyoung’s head snaps up. They’re looming a little in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and still in their uniform. **

“Something,“ he insists, standing. “I don’t know what, but they’re hiding something from us and—”

“Wooyoung,” Luxe says, their tone carefully neutral. They look like they’re still in work mode, and you can feel your stomach drop. It wouldn’t be the first time Luxe has had an after-hours meeting at home—your mother’s well-being needs constant monitoring, so you’re within a five minute walk from the Watch Command Center, after all. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Your friend balks for a moment. “Why? I’m trying to figure this out here! Hwa said there was some secret project Hongjoong wouldn’t talk to him about, and now he’s missing! You can’t tell me it’s not a little strange.” When Luxe says nothing, he takes a step forward, eyes narrowing. “If you know something and you’re not spreading it like wildfire, then you’re no better than Soohyuk and his freaky little clique. You’re suppose to be protecting the people, not feeding into whatever f—”

“That’s enough,” a familiar, stony voice calls. General Nightingale steps into view behind Luxe, gaze icy. They bow their head and step back as Wooyoung pales. “Your concern for your friend is admirable, Jung Wooyoung, but I assure you there is nothing nefarious going on in the Nexus or the Vanguard. Though we’re not sure what caused Sergeant Kim’s desertion, I assure you that we are doing our utmost to find him and ensure his safety.”

Wooyoung’s jaw tightens, and you can see the contained rage behind his eyes. “Sure.”

“I would watch your tongue a little more carefully if I were you,” she says, the corners of her mouth curling. “You never know who may be listening.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, do clear out,” Luxe says, smile tight. “I hate to bring work home, but this flu is only making tensions rise. We have a lot to discuss and it’s not for your ears, so if you’re sticking together, go to Yeosang’s or something.”

You hesitate, glancing between your friends, the general, and your sibling. Wooyoung grumbles something under his breath and leaves, Yeosang quickly following. With a shaky sigh, you watch them go, parting ways at the street. “I’ll go check on mom,” you mutter.

Luxe’s weary sigh follows you upstairs.

The next morning, they’re lingering in the dining room. “If there’s enough to be done that you needed to bring General Nightingale here, shouldn’t you have gone in early?”

They sigh. “I wanted to talk to you. Things are chaotic in the Outer Sector—the war is worse with the flu, both sides are blaming each other…” They trail off, shaking their head. “Not the point. The point is, you need to be careful around Wooyoung.”

You blink, stunned. “What? Is this because of yesterday? You know he always says stuff like that.”

Their jaw tightens, eyes growing stormy. “And that’s exactly why you need to stay away from him. For both of your sakes.”

“Luxe—”

“I’m serious. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but it sounds dangerous. I know he’s your friend, but… Be careful, okay?” Their tone softens a little at the end, a bit of worry showing. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

They’re gone before you can say anything more, and you feel like there’s a hole in your chest at the thought of honoring their request. So, you don’t. You’re quieter about it, letting Luxe believe that you’re being careful, but still spending lunches with both Yeosang and Wooyoung, though the latter does seem to keep to himself more often. Neither of them question why the three of you don’t spend any time at your house anymore. He doesn’t talk with you about his theories anymore but sometimes, when you’re filling them in on the latest gossip, you can see his gaze go dark as the cogs in his brain spin.

There’s one piece of information that you vow to keep to yourself, though it’s such big news that you’re sure the boys will learn of it sooner rather than later. Wooyoung’s theories keep coming back to you as you process it.

They’re hiding something. Hongjoong figured out what it was.

Seonghwa said he had some kind of mental break.

Why would he run away from everything he ever worked for?

When you see them that day, both of the boys look solemn. For once, you can tell Wooyoung isn’t spinning up a theory or trouble, or if he is, the news is hitting him too hard to complete the process. He’s the one who finally looks up at you from the strange stasis they’re in with a slow blink and says it.

“Park Seonghwa was killed in action two days ago.”

>>

TAGLIST: @yuncheoligans-archive @tastymintchocolate @tattywood @bahng-chrizz @elllisaaa @xenkimmie @buzzkillem @atinyinateezverse @hooniewnderland @skteezcursed @unlikelysublimekryptonite @kangnina @kibs-and-bits

🌙 SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: clothed sex, dom/sub dynamics, dry humping, cumming in pants, emotional release crying, traffic light check-in system, pet names ([my] Sangie, baby, angel, baby boy, sweetheart, good boy), reader is possessive, gratuitous praise, humiliation if you squint, sub!yeosang, dom!reader

The moment your apartment door swung open, you knew something was wrong. It wasn’t the act itself that threw you; unannounced visits weren’t Yeosang’s style and, as you had come to expect, he had texted you before coming over. There was nothing telling about the way it opened either, the quiet creak of the hinges a welcome familiarity over top of the tension you felt radiate through the space. No version of the sing-song greeting you were accustomed to met your ears as you heard it click shut, and you frowned. The crease between your brows only deepened as you heard his bag hit the floor of the entryway, your jaw tightening. 

This wouldn’t do.

Quiet footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen but you paid them no mind, focusing entirely on the pot of soup in front of you. A small, pleased noise sounded from the doorway, and within moments, strong arms were wrapped around your waist and Yeosang was burying his nose into your hair. You basked in the touch for a moment, letting yourself indulge despite your boyfriend’s disregard for your rules. With a steadying breath, you clicked your tongue in disapproval, moving to step out of his grasp as you reached for a cabinet above you. He only coiled tighter around you as you shifted, a broken little whimper leaving him and three gentle taps landing on your hip.

Your heart broke as you settled back onto your feet, recalling a months-old conversation for the hundredth time.

“So, I’m okay with all of that. It’s really stuff I already do anyway,” Yeosang affirmed, a pretty blush coloring his cheeks and ears as he looked over the tablet in front of him. “I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m like… breaking in or something when I walk in.” 

You both giggled at that. “So greeting me should be easy, then. We’re starting out simple, Sangie, that’s kind of the point of this.”

He nodded in understanding, fingers tapping against the table. “So, one thing I already do and one new thing.” 

It was your turn to nod, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. It’s kind of selfish too, honestly… I know I don’t have a lot of space, but even just giving your bag a more permanent home than by the door just… feels nice. It feels like you’re not going to run out on me over the little things.” 

The look he directed back up at you was one of sheer adoration, and you felt your stomach flip. “Of course I wouldn’t.” 

It was your turn to blush. You had to pause, gathering your wits before opening your mouth to speak but, to your surprise, your boyfriend beat you to it. “There’s just one thing. I… Sometimes, if I have a particularly overwhelming day, I don’t always… have words. And I don’t want to keep myself away from you or get in trouble with you on my worst days just because I’m too in my head to speak.” 

Something gripped at your heart, squeezing it tight. “We can do nonverbal cues, like we do during regular scenes. You could tap me three times to let me know you’re out of words, if that works? That way you can still use your double tap to safeword, even outside of the bedroom, but you don’t have to push yourself to provide an explanation.”

His eyes lit up, a soft little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s perfect.”

You had known it would happen at some point, but that didn’t keep your heart from hurting. “Oh, my Sangie,” you murmured, reaching back to card a hand into his hair. Another pitiful whimper left him and some of the tension drained from his shoulders at the attention. “I need to finish dinner, baby.” Again, a whine of protest, and his grip around you tightened. “Angel,” you prodded, and sighed internally when the pet name had him melting against you. “You can have all the attention you want in ten minutes after I finish dinner. Why don’t you go put your bag where it’s supposed to be and curl up on the couch in the meantime, hm? Pick out a show for us to watch while we eat.” 

He huffed a sigh but you felt him nod against your neck and squeeze you tight once more, pressing a kiss to your head before heading off back into your apartment. You turned, watching him go with a pained expression. 

No, this wouldn’t do at all.

The moment the last drop of soup was gone from both of your bowls, your dishes were swept away, deposited in the sink by your boyfriend, who quickly bundled himself up into your lap upon his return. You chuckled quietly, carding a hand into his hair as you sprawled out on the couch, his ear pressed against your steady heartbeat. Between the dull roar of the drama on the screen, the soothing rhythm of your fingers in his hair, and the warmth of the blanket across his legs, Yeosang quickly found the worries of his day fading away. His mind went hazy as he melted against you, eyes slipping shut as comfort and safety overtook him, lulling him into a familiar, floaty headspace. He felt more than heard your chuckle as you took note of the change, scratching fondly at his scalp.

The drag of your nails sparked the pleasant warmth in his gut to something stronger, a low groan leaving him that seemed to startle both of you. He jolted in your lap, eyes blinking back open, and you chuckled quietly as a flush painted his cheeks and ears. You grinned at him and he whined, burying his face back into your chest. The squirming only brought another fond laugh to your lips, this one cut short in a gasp as Yeosang froze, another whimper leaving his lips.

He was hard beneath his sweats, his length now pressed into your thigh from his shifting. The tips of his ears were tinted bright red, and you smiled fondly as you cupped his chin. He turned his chin up to you willingly, eyes wide and glassy. 

“Needy, baby?” You teased, and he nodded immediately in response. “Do you have your words back? You know I don’t like playing if my angel can’t talk to me.” 

His eyes left yours for a moment as his brow furrowed in thought, but when he met your gaze again, he nodded resolutely. “‘M green,” he murmured, voice gravelly from disuse.

You beamed at him, shifting to grind your thigh against his arousal and delighting in the weak little noise you pulled from him. “My good boy,” you purred, carding a hand back into his hair. 

Yeosang groaned as he shifted up and braced himself on his forearms, burying his face into your neck to press soft kisses to your skin. Slowly, you let one hand drop to his hip, guiding him to grind against your thigh. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, another broken sound leaving him as he quickly settled into a steady rhythm.

“Is this what you want, angel? To grind yourself on my thigh and cum in your pants like a teenager?” He whined, burying his nose against your neck. You sighed as the combined sensations lit a shudder down your spine, holding your boyfriend close to you. “Want me to get you off just like this?” His hips stuttered, and you felt him nod against your neck. “Words, baby.”

“Y-Yes,” he gasped, and you bit your lip to bite back a groan. God, he sounded so wrecked already. Had floating in subspace for you really affected him this much? “If… Wanna take care of you, too, but it feels so good, ngh…”

He trailed off, hips rolling faster against your leg, and this time you couldn’t bite back a quiet, pleased moan. “Don’t worry about me, angel. Tonight’s all about you, okay? My baby boy had a long day,” he buried his face into your shoulder at this, another whine leaving him, and you felt your chest tighten again, “so he gets to choose how he cums tonight.” 

Once more, his hips stuttered and his breath caught at once. “Wanna… like this. Then,” he gasped, teeth nipping at your throat as he rutted harder against you, “then…” He trailed off with a high whine, his movement against you becoming more desperate.

“Don’t worry about what comes after, sweetheart. Just worry about now. You’re here, with me, doing so well and looking so pretty for me, and that’s all that matters, okay angel?” 

He tensed in your arms, a half-choked sob escaping his lips, and when you felt the first warm, wet tears drop against your skin, your heart dropped. The hand still resting against his scalp dug in and you tugged, trying to pull him away from you. A sound slipped from his lips that was positively wrecked, and one hand snapped up from the couch to bunch your shirt up in his fist. The desperation he clung to you with as he chased his high had you hesitating, but the tension in your shoulders remained.

It seemed Yeosang noticed, his lips pressing urgently over your neck to soothe you, words spilling from his lips unfiltered as you remained rigid. “I’m good, I’m okay, I’m s–so, oh, green, please, it just f–feels s’good and I… need this, need you—”

His reassurance had you relaxing, nails scraping against his scalp once more and pulling another pretty noise from him. “Just feels too good, doesn’t it, angel?” He nodded furiously into your neck and you breathed a laugh, shifting where you sat. There was no denying the effect this—your boyfriend, trembling and sobbing in your lap, overwhelmed with pleasure—was having on you. 

Gently, you coaxed his chin up as you had before, meeting his teary eyes with a warm smile. “You look so pretty like this, Sangie. You can cum whenever you want, okay? You have my permission.” 

He let out another broken sob, hips rolling against you once, twice more before they stuttered into aborted little jerks. You watched, enthralled, as his jaw dropped open and his eyes blinked shut, the pooling warmth of his release evident even through the layers separating you.

“There you go, baby,” you sighed, leaning in to catch his lips in a deep kiss. You were both breathless when you parted, resting your foreheads against each other. “Feel better?” Yeosang nodded, humming affirmation. “Good. Now, let’s go clean you up, and you can tell me all about those plans you have for later, hm?” 

The groan he muffled into your neck had you giggling once more, pressing a reassuring kiss into his hair. This was better.

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you can't help yourself. when he dips under the water once more, you quietly slip into the pool beside him, and the moment he resurfaces, your arms are twining around his slim waist and your chest is pressing to his back. he jolts for a moment, a bright grin painting his features as a shrill giggle leaves his lips. he turns, pressing a quick kiss into your hair when you don't let him turn to face you.

"jagi—" he began, quickly cut off with a gasp as you sink your teeth into the meat of his shoulder. for a moment, you hear his breathless, amused chuckle, but it's quickly cut off by a broken sigh as your hands come up, thumbs brushing one after the other over his nipples. "jagiya."

you hum against his skin, sucking the beginnings of a mark into it. he moans this time, back arching as he leans back against your shoulder. you pull back with a sweet little pop, soothing over the sting with your tongue as he whines. the sound echoes off of the tiles, and both of you sigh at the sound. once more, he jolts, squirming as one of your hands sneaks lower, toward the waistband of his swim trunks until your fingers are slipping under the elastic.

wooyoung reaches back, a hand tangling into your hair as your mouth finds a place on his other side to work another pretty, pink mark. when you pull back, you sigh, grinning at the sight of the two marks now bordering his tattoo. pressing your lips to it, you sigh, mirroring his gasp as your hand finally slides fully under his swim trunks to cup his half-hard cock.

"i love you, my wooyoungie," you murmur as you wrap your fingers around his shaft, toying with him loosely.

he shudders, his grip in your hair tightening as he chokes out, "i... i love you t-too..."

San still ordered a slice of apple pie, warmed up, à la mode, while he doctored his coffee with a little creamer cup and a packet of sugar. He still held his steaming mug in both hands, clutching it close to stave off the winter chill that had followed him. He still made small talk with the waitress before she sauntered back to the kitchen to fill his order, and his eyes still drifted over to the windows, watching as the snow fell lazily. The lights still reflected back at him in the glass, the one in the back corner, just above the kitchen door, flickering every few seconds.  

Silence fell over him, no one peering out from behind him in the reflection to prompt him with a question or lean over and show him a new cat video. That had changed. 

So little had changed, but so much had changed. San closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, held it, and exhaled shakily. 

The waitress still spoke the same chipper greeting as she set his food in front of him, but her smile these days was just a little melancholy. He still savored his treat, balancing each bite between the pie and the ice cream and making sure not to wash the taste away too quickly with his sips of coffee, but when he finished and looked at the clock, only fifteen minutes had passed, and he hadn’t needed a refill of his mug. He still went up to the same cash register to pay, but now, his bill was half the price it should have been. The long brown coat was the same one as last winter, and he pulled it tight around himself in the same fashion he always did as he stepped into the night, but it felt stuffier with the fleece scarf around his neck, too.

Last winter, it would have been around yours. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, where he’d gone wrong. One morning, he’d woken up beside you, pouring his love into every soft kiss he planted on your lips. You looked at him like he’d hung the stars. The next, his bed had been cold, and when he’d found you staring out the balcony window at the winter’s first snow, you’d slipped away from the wrap of his arms around your waist.

“Jagiya?” 

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

The breath left him like he was still in the room, still staring at you, still stunned and floundering for the words to beg you to stay. San inhaled sharply, the chill air filling his lungs bringing him back to his senses, and kept walking. He wasn’t sure when he had stopped.

He’d spent a few hours angry. At you, at the world… At himself, for whatever it was he’d done to make you leave him. It faded quickly, leaving a simmering hurt behind, sadness mixing with confusion. It had been so sudden, and even in the minutes you’d spent gathering your things, you hadn’t bothered to spare him an explanation.

His search for one had been entirely fruitless. Texts went unanswered, calls rang through, and after the first time that little red exclamation point taunted him, telling him his message could not be delivered, he gave up. The anger came back for a split second, of course, but most of what he’d felt was a sense of defeat and a fresh wave of sadness. He would never have an answer, would never know why. 

He still wondered, of course. On nights like tonight that were a little too quiet, a little too cold, a little too dark, he wondered. Without you, everything was still the same. His coffee tasted just as bitter, his pie just as sweet. Snow still fell and lights still flickered and the world still turned. He was still the same man, still had the same cat you’d loved so much, laughed at the jokes you’d fall over onto him to and worked at the same dead-end job you cheered him on through. He had not changed, nor had the world, but it seemed so much dimmer without you beside him.

Joyous laughter contrasted the sorrowful sigh he released as the bus doors opened. He stood just to the side, let the people filter off—and barely caught you in his arms as you stumbled down the slick steps and nearly fell into the snow. You still looked the same. The snow still fell, the wind still chilled him, and the bus doors began to close.

San smiled as you righted yourself, a joyless thing, and let you go.

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: first time together, light praise kink, fingering, oral (fem receiving), wooyoung’s nose, they’re both switches, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control but boo), riding

The weeks following Wooyoung’s birthday had been a flurry of activity for nearly as long as he could remember. Whatever energy had been put into planning his celebration was rapidly redirected to coordinating the family’s annual trip to the mountains—an event that seemed to grow with him. It had been going on for as long as he could remember, beginning as a much-needed post-holiday getaway for his household. The first expansion came in middle school, when he met and attached himself to Kang Yeosang—the two families melded together naturally when the Kangs moved in next door, and one cabin rental became two, right next to each other and nestled among the pines at the Jungs’ favorite resort. It had been on one of these early trips that you and Wooyoung had become nearly as attached to each other as he and your older brother had been and, much to Yeosang’s chagrin at the time, their duo became a trio.

Despite Wooyoung and Yeosang having graduated and moved out, they both still found themselves drawn back to that same resort year after year. You, on the other hand, had not been so lucky. Your degree had proven a bit more demanding than either your brother’s or Wooyoung’s and, after your first year, they found themselves sharing deflated smiles as they watched you breeze through your parents’ front door after Christmas dinner. Something within Wooyoung ached each time, and the cabin he now shared with his brothers and yours—the cabins had long since been shuffled from ‘Jung’ and ‘Kang’ to ‘Parents’ and ‘Kids’—never quite felt the same.

He’d never quite figured out why his favorite tradition had begun to taste so bittersweet. Maybe, he decided, it was the monotony finally getting to him. Yeosang liked to call him a child of chaos, reminding him often that his creative slumps usually just meant he needed a change of scenery. He’d discovered every nook and cranny in both of the cabins they rented each year by the time he was 14. He’d been through every freestyle zone and explored every tree trail his board could fit through over the years, and even taught Kyungmin a few tricks. Now that he was of age, he’d been to every bar within walking distance of the slopes, too. The novelty had to have worn off; he’d seen and done it all. He’d give anything to see his safe haven for the first time again.

Maybe, just maybe, seeing it through someone else’s eyes would have the desired effect.

“Sannie, you said you snowboard, right?” He called from the couch, barely glancing up from his phone.

Wooyoung’s roommate blinked at him from the kitchen, leaned against the breakfast bar with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “I have before. I don’t… do it regularly.”

“And you had fun, right?” 

San blinked, confused, and let his cereal settle back into its bowl. “Yeah? What is this about, Wooyoung?”

“Great! You’re coming on the ski trip this year.” 

“Are you paying?” San scoffed half in jest, rolling his eyes heartily before turning his attention back to the book he had pinned to the counter.

“Yes.”

The flat tone of Wooyoung’s voice had him stunned, eyes wide as he slowly looked back up. “Are you serious right now?” When the younger nodded resolutely, no twinkle of mischief in his eyes, San gaped. “You’re not going to come up short on rent for this, are you?”

Wooyoung snorted. “No. It’s a family thing. My older brother can’t go anymore, so we’ve got an empty spot. Wanna come?”

“Absolutely.”

Pulling up to the cabin two months later with San in the passenger seat of his rented

SUV, he was certain he’d found the piece he’d been missing over the past few years. His friend’s excitement was palpable and contagious, the elder’s leg bouncing furiously and his cheeks split into a wide grin as he drank in the scenery. Wooyoung couldn’t help but laugh a little as he launched himself from the car the moment it was in park, spinning in the snow-covered driveway to take in the full view.

“Do you really come here every year?” He asked, his voice a little breathless with awe. 

Wooyoung grinned, nodding. “Since I was a kid. We stayed in the cabin next door until I was in high school, but that’s for the real adults now,” he snorted a laugh. “Once Sangie and I hit high school, we were trustworthy enough to watch my little brother, I guess, and it’s been kids and parents since. My older brother usually stays with us too, but he has some work thing, I guess.” San nodded, silent and still staring, and Wooyoung couldn’t help but watch him for a moment with a stupid grin. “C’mon, help me unload before everyone else gets here. Yeosangie’s ruthless about first-come, first-serve room picking.” 

That seemed to snap his roommate from his awe-struck stupor, and within moments, they found themselves wrapped in the familiar warmth of the cabin. Crossing the threshold into resounding silence had a pang of something wrong echoing in Wooyoung’s chest, and he frowned for a moment as he tugged his boots off. 

“This is nice.” 

San’s voice tugged him out of his thoughts, and Wooyoung forced a smile. “Right? Follow me, the good bed’s upstairs.”

They were each draped over separate arms of the couch, half-focused on the drama Wooyoung had put on, when the rumble of tires on the driveway pulled him from his half-asleep daze. San perked up with him, eyebrows raising as he blinked at his friend in question. “Your parents?”

Wooyoung gave a noncommittal shrug. “Or the Kangs.”

“Should we see if they need help?” He offered, standing and heading for the door. 

“Fuck that, it’s cold as shit out there,” the younger complained, nestling further into his blanket cocoon. “Have fun freezing your ass off.” 

“So thoughtful of you, Wooyoung-ah,” San teased, disregarding the grumble that left his friend. 

He listened as the front door shut and his friend called a greeting toward the car, a familiar female voice responding. Huffing a sigh, he turned his attention back to the TV. He could deal with his mother’s chastising of his terrible hosting later. 

What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was the door of his own cabin to swing back open wide minutes later, a blast of cold air cutting through the air along with an all-too-familiar laugh. His chest tightened inexplicably as it rang like a bell, San’s low chuckle echoing after it, and he turned toward the sounds.

“Two years, and you can’t even come help me with my suitcase, Youngie?”

At the sound of your voice, Wooyoung felt the air around him shift. The cold light filtering in through the windows seemed to warm with your entry, and all at once, the vast, empty cabin once again felt full. He stood, eyes wide and shining with glee as his jaw dropped open for a moment, his chest tightening with something he refused to acknowledge. Schooling his expression into his usual mischievous smirk, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re a big girl, Y/N, you could handle it yourself.”

You sighed heartily, rolling your eyes playfully before turning your gaze to San, who was busy shutting the door behind you. “At least chivalry isn’t completely dead.”

He perked up with wide, round eyes, flashing a megawatt smile at you, and Wooyoung felt the cabin dim a little again. “It’s no problem at all. Where do you, uh… Wooyoung hasn’t given me the full tour, so I’m not sure where to take your stuff.”

Once again, your mirthful gaze turned toward your childhood friend, and his smirk ticked back up. “I assume this one took the good bed all for himself already.”

“The early bird catches the worm, and all that,” he taunted back, San nodding affirmation beside you.

You clicked your tongue in disapproval, sighing and shaking your head. “Can’t even let me enjoy it. I have to get my gear from the car, but I can show you when I get back in, if this one’s still intent on becoming one with the couch.” You nodded back toward Wooyoung, pulling a bark of laughter from San, and something within the younger twisted. 

“I can show him, go get your stuff,” he sighed, waving you away as he started for the hall. San glanced between the two of you for a moment before catching your amused, warm smile and, confusion alleviated, followed his friend.

“You didn’t tell me your friend had a sister.” 

Wooyoung hummed quietly in acknowledgement, pushing open the downstairs bedroom door. He hadn’t stayed in this room in years, preferring to curl up in the upstairs bedroom with Yeosang and leave this space for his brothers, and for a moment, he was surprised at how small it felt. The twin beds in their corners and the heavy wooden dresser had seemed impossibly big, once upon a time, and lonely as the moonlight filtered through the blinds. Now, the space felt close and cozy, the patterned quilts and stripes of sunlight bathing the room making it look like something out of a catalog. Wooyoung’s chest tightened again and he smiled, nostalgia settling like a blanket around his shoulders.

“Honestly, I didn’t think it would be relevant,” he admitted, pulling open the closet door to check for extra blankets. “You can put her stuff on the bed by the window; she prefers that one.” Behind him, San’s eyes narrowed. “Like she said, it’s been a couple of years since she’s been here, and nobody told me she was coming.” 

“Are there going to be enough beds?”

Wooyoung paused, lips pursed in thought and hands on his hips as he turned to face San. “That… Is a very good question. I think we have air mattresses? Worst case, we can stick the kid on the couch or something. We’ll worry about it when—” The sound of a car horn cut him off, and Wooyoung peered through the blinds to peek at the driveway, a grin splitting his face. “After everyone else is through unloading. C’mon, we can still hide in the bedroom if we hurry.”

San fixed him with a flat look, shaking his head gently. “I am going to be nice and help your family unload their car. You can come with me, or you can leave me unattended to gossip with your mom for however long this takes.”

Wooyoung blinked owlishly until San turned to leave, following along behind his roommate on autopilot. “I hate you,” he muttered as they paused to tug on their boots, and San grinned.

Preparations for the traditional, joint-family, first night dinner were underway as you bustled around the kitchen with Wooyoung and both of your mothers. Yeosang and San had both offered their assistance; your brother had been met with a resounding, unanimous ‘No’ from the four of you, which he responded to with a cheeky grin and a small giggle, and San had immediately rescinded his offer. It felt natural for the four of you to be here together again, dancing around each other with a practiced ease as your mothers set themselves up at the island, massive metal bowls and all of the ingredients for kimchi spread out between them. You and Wooyoung quickly sidled up together at the stove, whisking the tteokbokki and potstickers that had been waiting into the living room to keep your fathers, siblings and Wooyoung’s friend occupied while you made the main course. You weren’t surprised to find your brother sat on the floor, his arms open as Kyungmin rushed him for a hug, but you caught the small, choked noise Wooyoung made at the sight of San alongside the pair. You flashed him a private little smile, and a swarm of butterflies kicked up in his stomach.

When you settled at the stove together, you nudged him with your hip, prompting a huff of laughter and a return of the gesture.

“I like your friend.”

Wooyoung nearly dropped the skillet in his hand, the heavy dish clattering against the stovetop loud enough to put a stop to your mothers’ conversation. They peeked back at you, but Wooyoung waved them off as he swallowed bile.

“San?” There was an edge to his voice, he could tell, and he could only hope you hadn’t noticed it, too.

“Yeah,” you nodded, seemingly oblivious as you stirred black bean paste and brown sugar together. “He fits in well and he’s really sweet. You should bring him every year.” 

Something vile twisted in Wooyoung’s gut. “Maybe. I’ll see if he wants to come back. Who knows, maybe you’ll scare him off?” He snarked, flashing you a wicked grin. You barked a laugh, elbowing him and earning a squawk of indignation as his pork-filled skillet shifted over the fire. “Careful, you’ll burn dinner! Or worse, me!”

“What’s this about you being the worst?” Yeosang chimed as he slipped over to the fridge, his sudden appearance pulling a shout from the man next to you.

“Oh my god, you need a fucking bell!” 

“Watch your mouth, there are children present,” you chastised, clicking your tongue. “We were talking about San,” you supplied as you turned back to your work, and Wooyoung frowned. Yeosang caught the look before he could wipe it away, cocking an eyebrow and smirking knowingly over the neck of his bottle. 

Whatever that meant. 

Wooyoung glared at him.

“I like him,” Yeosang offered, “he’s sweet. And handsome.” Wooyoung flashed him another glare, this time unintentionally, and your brother shrugged innocently.

You, completely unaware, hummed in agreement. “I was telling Youngie he should bring him back next year. Maybe we could talk to Mom about swapping cabins so I could bring Somin with me and introduce them; they’d be a cute couple.” 

The nastiness in Wooyoung’s gut untwisted, and he sighed silently. “I like that idea!”

“I don’t,” Yeosang grumbled, frowning. “Then I’ll be stuck as the fifth wheel.” 

You both whipped your heads up to him, brows furrowed in confusion. You thanked whoever was listening that your brother was on the other side of Wooyoung, because you flushed bright pink at his teasing. He was well aware of the little crush you had on your mutual best friend, and he took every opportunity to tease you for it.

“Last I checked, everyone else here was single, and that’s probably not going to change any time soon,” you huffed, stirring the mixture in the wok with a bit more vitriol. Yeosang hid his smile behind his bottle as Wooyoung, too, glared at him.

“You never know,” he hummed, sauntering off back into the living room.

The silence that fell between you and Wooyoung held more tension, this time, as you both processed. Wooyoung stared at the kitchen backsplash, unblinking, until your voice broke him out of his thoughts. 

“You’re burning the pork.” He startled, promptly pulling the skillet off the stove. You laughed, and just like that, things returned to normal. Shaking your head, you spooned the black bean paste into a bowl and offered him the wok. “I thought you said you knew how to cook now.” 

Wooyoung huffed indignantly, hip bumping you to the side. “I can make jjajangmyeon.”

“That was mean, Yeosang, rubbing it in like that.”

Your brother hummed from his place on his bed, eyes glued to the ceiling. Lazily, he turned over and blinked at you. “I’m not rubbing anything in. I’m trying to open your eyes here. He’s been in love with you since we were kids, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes, flopping onto your own mattress. “If he had been, he would have done something about it.” Yeosang snorted. “I’m serious! If there’s one thing I know about Wooyoung, it’s that he takes what he wants.”

“You think that rule applies to his best friend and other best friend’s sister? He’s probably worried I’ll be pissed if he tells me or something.” 

Again, you rolled your eyes.

“I wouldn’t, honestly,” San replied, eyes wide as he tracked Wooyoung, pacing the floor in front of him. “I know how mad I’d be if it turned out you were in love with Haneul.” 

“That’s what I’m saying, Sannie,” Wooyoung huffed, collapsing on his back and spreading out across the mattress. He squirmed, situating himself with his head in San’s lap, and the elder obliged, petting at his hair. “But she’s so pretty.” 

“She is,” he agreed, holding his hands up in surrender as Wooyoung glared daggers at him. “I’m just saying! Your friend’s sister is pretty! Would you rather I disagree?”

Wooyoung huffed a sigh, frowning and settling back into his roommate’s lap. “God, this week is gonna suck. Having her here is like… It feels better, but it also feels worse, y’know? She’s so close but so far away.” 

“You could always, like… Ask Yeosang for permission, first.”

“Didn’t you just advise me against that? Whose side are you on here?”

San shrugged. “I’m just trying to help so I don’t have to listen to you complain all week on the slopes.”

Wooyoung reached up, the back of his hand coming into contact with San’s shoulder and pulling a pained noise from him.

In the morning, you were all up early. Breakfast was a quick, chaotic affair of the four of you cycling in and out of the kitchen, breezing past each other and shouting across the cabin as you made plans. Within an hour of pulling Yeosang from the comfort of his bed, you were all crammed into Wooyoung’s SUV, flasks on your hip to warm you in the snow and your gear strapped to the ski rack. Yeosang, much to your surprise, had slipped into the back seat before you'd even left the house, and was chatting away happily with San as you slid in the passenger seat. 

“Who are you and what have you done with Kang Yeosang?” you teased, flashing your brother a skeptical half-glare. He huffed a breath through his nose and rolled his eyes, flopping sideways to lay his head on San’s shoulder, The man flushed bright red but he didn’t flinch or pull away, and you filed that information away for later. 

“I made a friend. Let me enjoy him.” You thought San flushed brighter at that. 

“Good luck, Sannie, you’re never getting rid of him,” you warned good-naturedly, flashing him a smile in the rearview mirror.

He gave a nervous half-smile, nodding. “Can’t imagine wanting to.”

Your brother’s lips pursed into a small ‘o’, and you watched with a grin as pink dusted his cheeks, too. 

Wooyoung seemed surprised by your presence in the front seat, too, as he poked his head in and met you with a “deer-in-the-headlights” look. “That’s not the Yeosang I know.”

You gestured at him, smacking his arm lightly as he climbed into the car. “That’s what I said!”

He grinned, laughing his signature, unfiltered cackle, and your heart clenched. “God, I’m glad you’re back.”

Whether or not Wooyoung noticed the way you sheepishly smiled at your lap, your brother did. He grinned, nudging San, who blinked at him in confusion. This would be a fun week.

The four of you began the day together, meeting at the base lodge with the rest of your family to distribute lift tickets and set an emergency and end-of-day meeting point. You started as you always did, cruising down some of the shorter greens at the base of the mountain as a whole unit as you got your legs under you. You, Wooyoung and Yeosang were ready to crank it up in minutes and, for the most part, your parents were ready to follow. Kyungmin and San were falling more than the rest of you, the former sticking close to his brother and the latter frowning and sighing as he fell into the snow. Yeosang chuckled and laughed at the pout visible under his helmet, skiing over to offer the snowboarder a hand up, and you were left alone to drink in the scene. 

You sighed happily, staring up at the peak and drinking in the scenery as you leaned on your poles. People darted and dashed around you, cutting through the snow with ease and creating the perfect soundscape of white noise. You didn’t notice when Wooyoung slid up nex to you until he spoke, startling you out of your reverie. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

You jumped, leaning hard on your poles and reaching out to steady yourself. Wooyoung dropped his board into the snow and planted his boots, arms wrapping around your middle as you stumbled on your skis. Sighing as you found your balance again, you rested your hands on his arms, eyes slipping shut. 

“Thank you,” you hummed, turning over your shoulder with a smile to—oh.

He was so close to you. You felt your cheeks heat again, this time not from the sting of the cold. “You’re… welcome,” he muttered, and you felt your heart leap into your chest.

“Hyung!” You nearly fell back over as you and Wooyoung jumped apart at his little brother’s excited cry. “Did you finally tell Y/N-ie that you love her?!”

When you looked back at Wooyoung, stunned, he stood stock-still, his expression unreadable under his helmet. The tension could be cut with a knife as silence settled between you.

It was your brother that saved you, head snapping toward you like a meerkat at Kyungmin’s shout. With a quick word to San, he zipped over, calling out to the youngest. “Kyungmin-ah! Why don’t you come help Sannie? He’s having a little trouble.”

“But Yeosang-hyung—”

Before the boy could protest further, your brother grabbed his hand, tugging him across and along toward the rack San was sat beside, leaving you and Wooyoung alone.

“Y/N, I—”

“You love me?”

You both began at once, but your words cut through the air like a war cry. 

Wooyoung was quiet for a beat and you squirmed, glancing away to your brother for an escape. He afforded no assistance, his back turned to you and shielding the younger Jung’s gaze in a way you knew must have been intentional. 

Finally, he spoke, he voice barely audible over the roar of the lodge activity. “I always have.”

You huffed a sigh, rolling your eyes and shuffling on your skis, starting away. “Of course you have, Wooyoung. Like a brother does, always. Never anything more.”

“No, Y/N, you’re wrong.”

You froze as he called after you, turning over your shoulder to stare at him. He had taken his helmet off, it and his goggles hanging limply at his side, giving you a window into his heart through his warm brown eyes. He swallowed thickly and stepped forward, offering out a hand. His was shaking just as much as yours was as you took it, using him to balance as you popped your skis off. He gave you no time to pick them up before he was in front of you and dropping his helmet to the ground, taking your other hand in his and breathing a quick sigh.

“I wanted this to be romantic and blow you away and this may not be the best time, but god dammit if I don’t tell you now, I might never.” He paused, taking another breath. “It’s been more since I knew what ‘more’ meant. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember—not as your brother or his best friend. I love you for you; for the woman you are, the girl you always have been, and whoever you may become. You are… so gorgeous and so sweet, and I’d do anything to call you mine.”

You were beaming at him, clenching his fingers tight like a vice as he paused. The silence had him squirming, you could see, and you scrambled for something, anything to match his heartfelt confession. In the end, what came out of your mouth was, “All you have to do is ask.”

“Kang Y/N, will you do me the incomparable honor of being my girlfriend?” His grin matched yours. 

“Yes, absolutely,” you sighed, breathless between the mountain air and the affectionate tightness in your chest.

The next instant, his lips were on yours, and you grasped desperately at his shoulders as you scrabbled for your footing in the snow. Behind you, you thought you heard San cheer, and you laughed quietly against Wooyoung’s lips. When you parted, breathless for an entirely new reason, you were happy to find your boyfriend just as disheveled, beaming at you like you hung the stars. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Wooyoung.”

Out of sight—not that you would have noticed—your brother held out a fist for Kyungmin to bump.

“What was that you said about ‘never having a chance?’” Yeosang teased over dinner that night, the four of you sprawled out between the two couches in your cabin. You pulled your sweater over your face to hide your embarrassment, snuggling deeper into Wooyoung’s arms.

“Oh, shut up! He’s been your best friend and one of mine since we were kids. How was I supposed to know—”

“You were supposed to trust his best friend and your brother, is what should have happened,” he huffed.

“How did you even know?!” Wooyoung protested. You could hear his glare.

“You’re not subtle, she’s just oblivious.”

“Hey!”

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about!”

Yeosang sighed, rolling his eyes heartily and pushing himself up off the couch. “I’m already sick of third wheeling. San, come help me move your stuff so they can have their own room.”

Wooyoung grinned against your neck, squeezing you tight. “Oh, they might regret that,” he hummed in your ear, tapping your thigh to guide you off of his lap. “I’ll help! Sannie can stay.”

Your brother raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smirk. “Oh, now he’s helpful. A changed man.”

“Only the best for my princess,” he teased, shooting you a wink over his shoulder. You pulled your sweater up over your nose again, grinning and hiding your flush.

An hour later, your stuff had been moved into the upstairs bedroom with Wooyoung’s, and Yeosang and San were gathering their gear. You turned to peer at them over the back of the sofa, eyes wide and innocent. “Where are you off to?”

“We saw signs for night skiing, and he was interested,” your brother explained, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to leave him with mom and dad, so I’m going too. I think Wooyoung was thinking about coming, but…” he gave you a knowing look. “I thought if we gave you a couple hours of alone time, we could sleep tonight.” 

Your cheeks heated. “Yeosang!” 

“Thank you, bye, have fun!” Wooyoung called as he slid up behind you and looped his arms around your waist. “That’s enough talk about our future sex life. Be safe.”

“Two and a half hours,” your brother warned, giving you both a pointed glance. Behind him, San’s cheeks were tinged pink. “Remember what I said.”

This was directed over your shoulder to Wooyoung who, when you turned, had gone a little pale. The door shut with a purposeful slam and you turned in his arms, cupping his face.

“What did he say?”

“That, uh… If he hears anything, he’ll give our moms the details. And tell your dad.”

“We’d better get it out of our systems while he’s out then, huh?” 

You’d watched Wooyoung short-circuit before over Yeosang babbling on about his engineering studies, mostly. Being the reason he did so now, especially when it was enhanced by the pretty pink tinge that rose in his cheeks and ears, was an entirely new and delightful experience. 

“Unless you don’t—” you began when the silence stretched, only to be cut off by his lips on your own.

“Absolutely the hell not,” he practically growled, and you felt your knees go a little weak. “I’ve waited way too long to have you—I’m not waiting any longer.”

“Then don’t,” you breathed, stepping back from him and catching his hand in yours as it fell between you.

The two of you practically dashed up the stairs, barely pausing to kick the door shut and lock it before your lips were pressed together again, both hungry for each other. His hands ran up your sides and under your sweater, rucking it up and grabbing at the soft skin he found underneath. Your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, pulling a pretty moan from him that you wanted to hear more of right then and there. He gave you no time, however, spinning you and walking you back toward the bed. 

When your knees hit the mattress, you both fell in a giggling heap onto it, Wooyoung caging you in below him with his hands on either side of your head. His lips found your jaw the moment you both settled and he let his eyes flutter shut as he trailed kisses down your throat. There would be time to watch you come apart for him later; now, he wanted to bask in all the pretty little sounds you let out as he worked you up. It didn’t take long before you were squirming under him, hands grasping at his hair while his lips and hands sought each other through the barrier of your sweater. When his lips reached your neckline, he guided you up and pulled your sweater over your head, tossing it to the side, your bra quickly following. 

He sat back on his heels, hands on your waist to keep you upright as he drank you in, eyes wide and earnest. You felt your cheeks heat, tugging at the hem of his own shirt to resist the urge to cover yourself. He obliged immediately, the garment discarded like yours, and your hands immediately found his skin. Wooyoung shivered as you ran your fingers up his chest, tracing over the lines of his abs and ghosting over his nipples, delighting at the shiver that lit down his spine and the whine that spilled from his lips.

In the next moment, his lips were on yours and he was guiding you onto your back once more. His hands stopped only to squeeze your breasts and tweak at your nipples in return, pulling a gasp from you and a grin from him, before they came to rest at your waistband, fingers dipping under it. You lifted your hips obediently, your lounge pants and underwear being pulled off and shucked away at once and earning a purr of “Good girl,” from Wooyoung.

You whimpered at that and he grinned, raising an eyebrow at you as he lowered himself between your legs. “Noted,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Sit there and look pretty for me while I open you up, okay.”

At a loss for words, you nodded dumbly, gasping as his lips met your skin again. You melted back into the pillows with a moan as his breath ghosted over your core, hips twitching in anticipation. “W-Wooyoung,” you tried. He grinned wickedly up at you. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

Without another word, he was pressing his tongue to you and lapping a fat stripe up your core, flicking his tongue over your clit with a little flourish. You squirmed and he grinned against you, moaning into your heat as you tugged at his hair, silently begging him to come closer. He obliged and buried his tongue between your folds, the curve of his nose bumping against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he lost himself in your taste.

His hands came up under you to cup at your ass, kneading at the soft flesh as your thighs landed over his shoulders. You whimpered and squirmed, thighs twitching by his ears, and Wooyoung couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be. His fingers prodded against your entrance and he glanced up questioningly as your hips jerked, as if both you and your body were unsure if you wanted more or less. The sight that met him was one of beauty; your hair was spread across the pillows around you and the hand that wasn’t tangled in Wooyoung’s hair had begun kneading at your breast—and Wooyoung rutted down into the mattress with a low groan. 

You nodded frantically as he pressed more insistently against your core, and he quickly slipped a finger into you, preening at the sigh you let out. He worked it slowly in contrast to his quick tongue, and the difference quickly had you seeing stars. Eyes still locked on your writhing form, he pressed a second finger in with the first and crooked them up, seeking out your sweet spot. The moment he found it, he grinned, committing the little squeak of pleasure that left you to memory for later.

It took seconds, then, for the coil in your gut to snap, and your back arched off the bed as you rode out your high against Wooyoung’s sinful mouth. His eyes were wide and innocent as he worked you over your peak with no sign of halting, only freeing you from your torment when you tugged him back by his hair. He surfaced with a gasp and a grin you quickly wiped off his face as you crashed your lips against his own.

There was no time for him to react as you shoved him down next to you and climbed into his lap, settling your weight over his clothed cock. He groaned and winced, neglected length throbbing painfully at the sudden stimulation. You giggled and he glared, hands settling on your hips to encourage you to start grinding against him. With a coy smile, you moved his hands back to the sheets and shifted back to his thighs, fingers tucking under his waistband. What you found made you freeze, and you were gifted with another beautiful Wooyoung giggle as he grinned up at you. 

“You were expecting this, weren’t you?” You muttered as you tugged his pants down and, just as you had guessed, found no underwear beneath.

He shook his head, expression suddenly softer. “Expecting, never. Hoping?” He grinned like a Cheshire and leaned forward, cupping your ass and dragging you up to press your core against him. “Always,” he purred, darting up to catch your lips once more. 

You hummed happily as you ground down against him, the friction welcome but far too little after experiencing his tongue and fingers. “Wooyoung,” you managed between kisses, shifting further up so his head caught on your entrance. “Wanna ride you baby, please?”

He let out a wrecked groan and nodded, wrapping an arm around you to lift you as the other positioned his cock at your entrance. “Wait, shit,” he murmured, shifting under you. You whined, thighs clenching to keep him in place. “Condom.”

“I’m on birth control,” you muttered, grinding against him, “wanna feel you, please.”

Wooyoung cursed, hips rolling up against your own. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

You beamed, pressing another quick kiss to his lips as he lined himself back up. His hands held you steady, setting the pace for you as he filled you inch-by-inch and you whined in protest, brow furrowing. Pressing his wrists down into the sheets, you sat yourself on his cock in one fluid motion, pulling cries from both of you. Ravenous, you slotted your lips against his and immediately began riding him in earnest, grinning against his lips at the squeak he let out.

“F-Fuck, babydoll,” he gasped out, hands returning to your hips when yours grasped the headboard for balance. “Not gonna last if you keep at this—shit.”

“Play with my clit,” you breathed, walls clenching around him at the hungry look he gave in return, “and I won’t either.” 

Wordlessly, he nodded, tongue flicking out to wet his thumb before settling over your clit, pushing back the hood before rubbing tight circles over it. You let out a broken shout and he moaned quietly, cock twitching pleasantly inside you. 

“G-G’nna…” he gasped, swallowing thickly as he staved off his climax.

You nodded, pace picking up just barely as you chased your releases. A moment later, your walls began fluttering around him and your back arched, mouth open in a silent scream as you plummeted over your peak. The sight of you was all it took for Wooyoung to follow, reaching up and pulling you down into his chest as he emptied into you.

The silence was jarring when you both came back to your senses, only the sound of your heavy breaths filling the space now. You sighed with a smile and let your eyes flutter shut, allowing yourself to bask in the afterglow before the sweat would force you to the bathroom. Your boyfriend held you tight, pressing kisses into your hair as his hands roamed over your back.

“I love you, Wooyoungie,” you murmured sleepily, smiling as you felt him chuckle.

“I love you too, Y/N-ie,” he replied readily.

“This is the best year yet.” 

He beamed. “And it’s only day one.”

TAGLISTS: [open, apply here.]

permanent: @justhere4kpop @thatonenoona @tastymintchocolate @bahng-chrizz @elllisaaa ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @tattywood @xenkimmie

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NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: pwp, pet names (love, dollface, little dove, angel), hickeys, thigh riding, edging, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (boo 👎), possessive!joong strikes again, creampie; lmk if i missed any

It had begun innocently enough. You were laid out across the couch with your head in Hongjoong’s lap, the most recent episode of what you two had deemed your show playing on the TV. He was enthralled, eyes glued to the screen, stomach twitching with his gasps and fist clenching the cushions every time something big happened. Your gaze, however, had been locked onto the black calligraphy etched into his skin, “NO1LIKEME” on display for anyone who dared think otherwise. The seasons were changing, the weather just this past month turning warm enough to force your boyfriend out of his sweaters and hoodies and, just as you had every year since he got it, you found yourself obsessing over his tattoo.

Thoughtlessly, you reached up, your fingers barely coming in contact with the ink before he jumped slightly, and you jerked your hand back. “S-Sorry.” You huffed a laugh, turning back to the TV to hide your visible embarrassment.

To your surprise, he let out a quiet giggle, and you glanced back up to find a curious half-smile on his face. “It’s okay," he reassured, “I just wasn’t expecting it.” You nodded slightly dismissively, lost in your own little world of mortification. Of all the things for him to catch you ogling, it was his tattoo. How weird did he think you were, now? 

Before you could delve too far down that particular shame-filled rabbit hole, a weight settled on your stomach, yanking you out of your spiral. Hongjoong’s hand had dropped from the couch, and when you tossed a confused look in his direction, you were met with a warm, reassuring smile. “Now you don’t have to reach up as far,” he muttered, giving your hip a squeeze before turning back to your show. The heat that had risen to your cheeks amplified as you blinked up at him in mild shock. 

When you reached up again, you caught his eyes flickering your way, and you could have sworn his arm shifted toward you, but he didn’t pull away this time. Gingerly, your fingers brushed over the line of text, one after the other, up and back down his inner arm. You felt his muscles twitch under the attention, his fingers tapping out the energy you were filling him with as you set his nerves alight. You smiled softly, sneaking one more glance to his face before all your focus shifted entirely back to the characters curling up over his bicep, touch remaining feather-light as you resolved to trace each one. The little jolts that shook his arm only grew in intensity as you continued your ministrations, entranced by every curve and line, lips parted in awe. 

The first quiet, nearly imperceptible change in his breathing was the little gasp left him when you were halfway through, your fingertip dancing over the loops dotting the ‘I.’ He shifted under you and you snuck a glance up to his face again and, finding his eyes still glued to the TV screen, you let your fingers continue their journey. The second came shortly thereafter, a ragged sigh leaving him when your touch left his skin just long enough to shift from the first ‘E’ to the ‘M,’ and this time he shifted with it, sitting up straighter and forcing your head closer to his knees. When you glanced up, you caught his gaze flickering away, eyelids hooded and plush lips parted as he turned back to the screen. 

You bit back the sly grin that threatened to break over your face, taking your time drawing over the last two letters before letting your hand fall back to your side. He let out another shaky breath, glancing down to flash you a slight smile. “Have fun?” You nodded, and his warm smile spread. “Good. It’s there any time you want it.”

His hand left your hip to reach for the couch cushions again, but before he could stray too far, you caught his wrist and flashed him a playful glare.

“I wasn’t done,” you huffed, earning a quiet giggle from him. 

“Okay, okay, go ahead.”

You grinned, shifting to sit up and watching with glee as his face shifted to confusion. You’d settled cross-legged, your back turned to the TV as you draped his arm over the back of the couch, returning it to its original position. Hongjoong had turned his attention from the show to you, following your movements with a confused, crooked smile. You flashed him an impish grin, trailing your fingers up and down his skin once more, delighting in the way his gaze darkened and he sighed. Barely managing to tear your eyes away from his face, you zeroed in on your next point of focus while your thumb swirled around it—the face doodled into the ‘O.’ 

Before he could protest, your head darted down, lips pressing against it. You felt him jerk underneath you, the couch cushions shifting beside you as he moved closer. Grinning against his skin, you let yourself wander, pressing increasingly open-mouthed kisses over the tattoo. You could feel him inching closer, each one making his arm twitch underneath you and pulling a quiet noise from him. Your eyes slipped shut as you drank them in, as you drank him in, your kisses lingering and your teeth beginning to graze his skin lightly. He hissed quietly with the first pinch, and you giggled to yourself, soothing the pain with your tongue. 

The feeling of his free arm wrapping around your waist made you jump, turning to find his face mere centimeters from your own with a dangerous fire sparking to life in his eyes. 

“What do you think you’re doing, love?”

You met him with that same impish grin he always wanted to wipe off of your face. “Having fun.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes with an amused smile, and if you hadn’t already decided on your next course of action, you would have right then and there. Flashing him a glare and a disgruntled frown, you leaned back down to his arm, sinking your teeth into the bare skin below the crossbar of the ‘K.’ Hongjoong jolted under you, his muscles tensing and a choked off groan falling from his lips as you sucked and bit at it, your tongue following closely behind to lessen the sting. When you sat back on your heels again, the pretty pink spot left behind had you beaming with pride, and you darted down to press another kiss over it. 

Before you could give anywhere else the same treatment, his grip on the cushions released and his hand snapped up, quickly fisting into the hair at your nape to pull you into a bruising kiss. Your noise of surprise was muffled by his lips and you melted into him, hands planting themselves firmly on his shoulders. His free arm wrapped its way around your waist and he tugged at you, guiding you to straddle his thigh. You were both breathless when he pulledyou back, lips red and swollen and eyes already glazing over. 

“You really like my tattoo, huh?” he breathed, letting his right arm fall back against the couch. Immediately, your eyes zeroed back in on the ink, and you nodded. “Give it some more attention, then, dollface. Show me how much you love it.”

The grin fixed on his face made your stomach flip, a pleasant mixture of anticipation and arousal lighting through you. Biting your lip, you nodded, attention turning back to the text curling up his bicep. After pressing a kiss to the mark you had already left, you quickly shifted to dot the ‘I’ with a mark of your own making, sucking and lapping at Hongjoong’s skin. The quiet sighs he let out were music to your ears, and you spared a glance toward him, catching his gaze as you found it fixed solidly on you. The corner of his mouth ticked back into that signature smirk of his and you felt his thigh twitch under you, your breath catching in your throat. You paused your work, pulling back with a satisfying pop to face him better. 

His smirk dropped, one eyebrow raising, and he relaxed again. “Done already?”

Heat and nerves coiled in your gut as he stared you down and you floundered for a response, shaking your head silently. Hongjoong always had a way of making you feel small with only a single look, like a mouse caught between a cat’s claws. Slowly, he let his eyes trail back to his tattoo, then back to your face. With a shaky sigh as your mind went a little hazy and lust-clouded, you returned your lips to his skin, resolving to trace every inch of the ink with your tongue. It only took seconds this time for his thigh to flex under you again, and you whined, grinding down against him. His quiet little giggle graced your ears and his free hand settled on your hip, encouraging you to continue your movements. With a soft whine, you complied, hips rolling against him. 

It was only a few short minutes before your arousal had you abandoning your work halfway through, moving instead to press open-mouthed kisses over his skin, nipping at it every so often. You could hear his breathing becoming increasingly ragged as you too became more desperate, the soft whimpers and sighs you let out becoming more frequent as he toyed with you. They were music to his ears and, when coupled with the feeling of your lips worshiping his skin and the sight of you rutting against him, he could feel his own arousal quickly becoming unbearable. A particularly hard bite had him groaning openly and his thigh pressing harder against your aching cunt as his hips sought friction. You released him, throwing your head back with a moan, and he took the opportunity to grab a fistful of your hair again. 

In a matter of seconds, Hongjoong had you face down against the couch, his fingers curling under the waistband of both your lounge shorts and your underwear. With one swift tug, you were left exposed to both the cold air and his hungry gaze. He let out a pleased sigh, one finger coming up to trace lightly between your folds, and a quiet giggle left him as he pulled it back, taking in the slick already coating it.

“Needy for me already,” he purred, and you nodded into the cushions, letting one of your legs fall from the side of the couch to spread yourself further for him. 

Leaning down, he lapped a fat stripe over you, earning a choked, breathy moan. Humming happily, he quickly dropped back down to your clit, lips quickly closing around the sensitive bud. You cried out as he sucked harshly on it, hands stretching out in front of you in search of anything more substantial to grab onto. He quickly shifted up, and you sighed in relief, eyes slipping shut as he began to work you open on his tongue—not that you needed the prep. You would never complain about the magic your boyfriend worked with his tongue, though, your hips rocking back eagerly against his face as you let out little whimpers and sighs. 

When he pulled away with one last lingering suck to your clit, you let out a keen he wanted on a recording, playing on loop in his ears. Sighing contentedly, he pressed one last kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves and sat back on his heels, promptly shoving his sweats down his thighs. You had barely recovered from the second high he’d dangled just out of your reach when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance, and your whines pitched up again, hips nudging back toward him. He pressed into you in one fluid motion, both of you letting out heady moans—you at the fullness of him, and Hongjoong at the way your walls hugged him. 

Once you had both had a moment to adjust, he pulled his hips back and snapped into you, the suddenness pulling a shout from your throat. He chuckled as he leaned over you and grabbed another handful of your hair, bracing himself on his right arm and forcing your gaze onto the marks you had left. He held his hips still as he pressed his back against yours, lips finding the skin just below your ear. 

“I’m yours,” he muttered against your skin, tugging at your hair lightly. 

A lazy smile spread across your lips and you nodded, committing the sight of his tattoo, painted with your marks, to memory. He laughed quietly at your already fucked out state, the noise sending electricity lighting down your spine. Without warning, he sank his teeth into your skin, pulling it between his teeth, sucking and laving at it enough that you were sure the mark he’d left would be a deep purple in the morning.

“And you’re mine, my little dove. Now sing for me.”

Pressing one last kiss to the mark he’d left, Hongjoong straightened back up, quickly setting into a brutal pace. Your quiet sighs and breathy whines were traded for full-throated moans and needy keens as he railed into you, one hand still in your hair while the other rested firmly on your hip. Each snap of his hips against yours punched another unfiltered sound or curse from you and you melted under him, back arching further into the couch below you. The shift had his cock dragging across your sweet spot with every stroke and you cried out his name, the high you’d lost building rapidly.

“Cum for me, angel,” he managed, pace picking up that much more as he began to use you to chase his own high. 

Only seconds more passed before you were unraveling around him, walls spasming and pulling him in tighter. A drawn-out groan was forced out of him as he fucked you through it, hips stuttering as his own climax washed over him like a wave. He bottomed out within you and you sighed happily, your own orgasm prolonged as thick ropes of his release painted your insides white. You were sated, full of him, surrounded by Hongjoong, a blissful smile gracing your features as you let yourself bask in the afterglow, floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

You were vaguely aware of movement in your peripheral when you came to again, and a shiver lit down your spine. You were cold, lonely and empty; but in a moment warmth and a familiar scent of home surrounded you, and your sleepy smile returned. Your eyes blinked open to find Hongjoong’s arms wrapped firmly around you. A few of the marks you’d left were visible from this angle, and you let out a pleased hum, leaning forward to press a kiss to one of them.

“Mine,” you sighed, and felt the little giggle that shook his chest.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to the space below your ear, echoing quietly, “Mine.”

TAGLISTS [all open]: permanent: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @soul-jae ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @thatonenoona

tags/warnings: gn!reader, woo's a lil jealous, lil bit of public sex, voyeurism, sorta poly, woo's a creep (affectionate), pet names (baby, my little charm), mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex (boo)

Because the thing about San—about nearly everyone in that dingy, sweat-filled basement, is that they do their best work when their blood's already pumping. Even when the place is nearly empty, only the fighters and their select entourages milling about, the residual energy is palpable. Wooyoung is not immune to it, as much as he may turn up his pretty nose at your pre-match antics. You think he does it more for his own pride than anything, trying to put himself above the fighters he manages, to maintain some degree of separation. Both you and San can see straight through that façade, and it's quite a laugh for the both of you each time he "accidentally" stumbles upon you. Each time, you're met with exasperation, and each time, once you're both sated, you fall into a fit of giggles over it.

Neither of you are stupid. You can see the way Wooyoung's eyes drag over the taut muscles of San's back and ass as he rails you against the wall under the stairs. San catches lingering stares when he's got you bent over the bathroom sink, his friend's eyes glued to where his cock is disappearing into you. You both have caught him glancing back at you in their dingy van's rearview, and San has his own little secret tucked away, having caught your name falling from Wooyoung's lips late at night. It's kind of fun to see how long he'll keep it up, so you bide your time, waiting until he comes to you. Until then, San has you, anywhere and everywhere he can.

At first, the whole "C'mon, baby, it's like a quick little testosterone boost" bit was just that, an excuse to get you under or over or on him (as if he needed one), but after the first match you couldn't make became San's first loss, you became his good luck charm. They'd shown up at your place before the next match, their blacked out van sticking out like a sore thumb, and both practically begged you never to miss a match again. Who were you to say no to their cute little pouts? Time was tight that night, you having gotten off work with just enough time to make it to the match yourself, so San had yanked you into the back and taken you then and there.

You were distantly aware of Wooyoung's wandering eyes, catching his gaze in the mirror once or twice for fractions of a second before he had to pay attention to the road again. Each time, you found yourself clenching around San's cock, a lazy smile spreading across your lips as his moans grew louder, hips snapping more roughly against your own. Your moans pitched up with the rough-handling, and your eyes snapped back to San's face, finding him smirking down at you.

Within seconds, he had also glanced up to the front of the van, smirk breaking into a grin as he moaned lowly into your ear. "He's eating this up," he muttered, leaning down to suck a mark into your skin. "Might wreck us; he's too busy jerking himself off up there."

Your walls fluttered around him as you felt the coil in your gut tightening, a heady "Sannie!" leaving you.

He hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, this time speaking loud enough for your companion to hear. "I know, baby, I'm almost there, can you just hold out a few more minutes for me? You know how much more it helps when my little charm cums with me."

The soft moan you let out pitched up violently as the van jerked to a stop, the sudden change in momentum driving San deep into you, his cockhead slamming against your sweet spot. You saw stars as you came unraveled, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling of the van. Wooyoung's voice and the shifting of San's hips brought you back down to reality, the latter muttering in his pout, "I was so close, dammit."

"Too bad, we're here. Put your fucking pants back on and take your frustration out in the ring," you heard Wooyoung mumble, the engine dying a second later. "I'm going in to stall. You have five minutes, tops."

San sighed as the driver's side door shut, his head hanging just slightly. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before moving to your lips, muffling your whines of overstimulation as he slid his still-hard cock from you.

"Not gonna use your five minutes?" you prodded, sitting up with him to straighten yourself out.

He shook his head. "And leave you with more of a mess to clean up? I've already got my lucky charm taken care of."

"Such a gentleman."

He grinned, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. "I'd rather save it for a victory lap anyway. Especially if you can get Woo to join us."

You raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously as you buttoned your pants back up. "I'll see what I can do."

taglists (open): permanent: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @.soul-jae ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @thatonenoona special: @jaehunnyy (come get ur mans baby)