#anyways ill be crying in the club tonight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misch1efmanaged · 1 month

Text

(REPOST) heart swindler - J.WY (Part 1)

! REPOST ONTO THIS BLOG TO KEEP CONSISTENCY !

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ part 1: Moving back to a capital city seemed exciting enough but it also brings competition in your field. You work hard to provide for you and your nephew but business is harsh and your rival, Wooyoung seems to be having a streak of good luck. Wooyoung’s streak was not your only problem as you find yourself bumping into strange a man at the club, you have a feeling it is not the last time you’ll be seeing him either.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Female Pronouns Conwoman reader! x Conman Wooyoung! Enemies to Lovers. Angst. Fluff. Smut.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ smut themes in the future parts. Mentions of drug abuse. Abusive parenting. Violence. Bi? Wooyoung? Stalking. Slowburn!. Conning? More to be added... This is fiction and does not represent the real idol.

words: 7.8K

PART 2

---

The night club was jam packed this Saturday night. You recognize some charting rap song blasting through the bass-boosted speakers, blurring out the sounds of people around you. The clubs in the central area had no motivation in making a good mix for the night, rather re-using anything that could be considered loud and sexual enough.

At least the bass is alright here you thought as your eyes scan over the crowded dance floor from a balcony on the second floor. Some nights you felt like a hawk hunting for prey. Your eyes had been trained to see through the sharp strobing lights which helped you speed things up.

There were often times you wondered what name to put to your career. Some people from your past would scream conwoman…

Your eyes scan the gray and black newspaper as a small smirk spreads over your lips.

“Young woman conned man out of half a million dollars, read page five”

You quickly flip the light pages of the newspaper before landing on the page where you were met with the pathetic face of the said man. Asshole, he was the one who offered you the money anyway. That job was way too easy. He only went crying about being conned after his poor wife had received the anonymous message from you to her phone;

Anonymous: This is how much your husband loves you *image*.

You admit, that move was a little too asshole-ish even for you. Usually you would keep out of your target’s private life but it was simply sweet karma after hearing the bastard speak degradingly of his wife who had fallen ill and been hospitalized. The audacity men have. Damn you could even say you took some pity on her. That’s how you justified sending the video of him on his knees in front of you, worshiping you as if you are some greek goddess.

Anytime now…you thought and the loud chime of your phone ran through the luxurious hotel room just a few seconds later. You smirk and reach over to answer.

“Hey there sweetheart” you tease, holding the phone up to your ear as your eyes wander over the artwork hanging on the walls in the room. Many of them portrayed naked lovers, making you roll your eyes at the stereotypical art. You don’t even flinch as a loud voice curses you on the other side.

“I will kill you, you fucking bitch. You ruined my marriage- my career! I trusted a fucking conwoman” the older man that had so unfourtnarely been your previous target, curses in disbelief.

The words didn’t affect you anymore, hell you were in the luxurious hotel room thanks to his money to begin with, he could curse you all he wanted.

“Well, learn not to fuck women other than your wife, though I doubt she will let you near her again” you replied with a dry chukle, hanging up to block the number. Time to change phones…

Other times people recognized you simply as a tactful business woman who occasionally used men for money. You usually prefer this title anyway.

LUX, which was the name of the club you had settled on for tonight, was one of your favorites. It has beautiful architecture with many well-built bars spanning over three different levels, but that was not why you liked it so much. Neither did you really care about the club’s entertainment which consisted of half-naked girls dancing on poles spread around the first floor.

The reason LUX was your favorite was rather obvious. Anybody who entered, either had straight connections to the owner or was packed with millions. Both of those options ultimately meant that most men in attendance could give you what you were looking for; money.

Hongjoong, the owner of the place, allowed you to do business in the club in exchange for a friendly percentage. While you normally shrink away at the idea of sharing your profits, you have to remind yourself that without him you wouldn't even have access to a place like LUX.

After what felt like hours, you spot a man sitting alone on a bar stool on the first floor. White button down shirt, a golden watch on his left wrist that reflected off the strobing lights and a half empty drink. Perfect.

Time to act. You make your way down the spiraling staircase that connects the three floors at LUX. You feel the blood being squeezed out of your feet thanks to the tight high heels you wore. They were at least a size too small, but you were determined to show off the fancy brand in hopes of catching attention. You suck it up and soften your mischievous expression into a softer, more innocent look. Men and their pathetic instinct to act as protective heroes.

You make your way over to the first-floor bar, not too close to the target you had picked out. Only a few seats were taken by the counter, most people having found a dance partner for tonight.

It was obvious when people turned their heads as you walked past and you had to keep yourself from smirking at the fact. At least with the act you were putting on.

You lean over the bar right to the side of the man who was sitting by himself, looking around as if trying to look for the bartender who was not present. Sighing dramatically, you look over at the man only to find he had acknowledged your presence.

With pouty lips and knitted eyebrows you wait for him to give you a friendly smile before moving closer.

“Excuse me, would you happen to have a phone charger? My friend left me here on my own and my phone has run out of battery” you offer a crooked smile, hoping he’d fall right in your trap.

Up-close, your target looked to be in his late thirties. This category was either a hit or miss. Some were too aware of your antics from earlier experiences, some totally oblivious.

The man ran a hand through his slicked back, brown hair, dimples popping as he smiled and leaned closer to yell over the blasting music.

“I don’t, but you could borrow my phone?” he suggested and you rolled your eyes in your head. You were rather impatient tonight, your last payment had been longer than two months ago and your savings account was drying out.

“Oh, I can’t remember the number though and she has my purse too- oh lord how will I get home?” You sound alarmed, acting panicked as you start glancing around the room, fingers intertwining as you fiddle in front or your victim who frowned with worry.

“Look dear, maybe I could just call you a taxi back home? And tomorrow you could meet up with your friend?” The stranger suggests. His intentions were nice for sure, but he didn’t seem to glance down at your red dress even once since you approached him.

“Would you do that? You are-” you begin with an innocent smile before somebody steps closer to you, shifting to stand between you and the stranger.

“-I’m back. Ready to go, pretty?” the voice makes you freeze. You clench your jaw to keep composure and not lose your shit in front of the whole club. The voice laced with honey belonged to someone you were more than familiar with.

You look up and lock eyes with him. Jung Wooyoung.

Wooyoung, who’s jet black hair now was dyed a shade of platinum blonde, looks down at you with his plump lips lifted into a signature smirk. He was well aware of what he had just done, and undoubtedly took great pride in interrupting your attempts at his target.

You offer him a tight-lipped smile, lacing it with spite that you were certain he could feel even if telepathy wasn’t a thing.

The man to your side stands up from his seat and smiles shyly, looking down at you as he hovers tall.

Pick somebody your height, asshole, you mutter in your head, wishing that Wooyoung would somehow hear it.

“I am afraid I have to leave, good luck getting home darling” the man comments politely as Wooyoung wraps an arm around the man’s waist. The men walk off towards the staircase and you could only imagine Wooyoung had the third floor full of private VIP rooms in mind.

Before disappearing out of your sight, Wooyoung glances over his shoulder at you with a mischievous smirk, shooting you a wink. You cock an eyebrow at him before flipping him off, middle finger adorned by the diamond your last target had been fooled into buying. It was always a game of show off between people who did what you did. And Wooyoung was one undoubtedly one of the best, to your dismay.

You take a seat on the barstool, slouching over as you decide to give up for the night. Truth be told, you were getting tired of this business. Having sleazy and naive men give you money was one thing, but entertaining them had slowly been eating away at your nerves and patience over the past year.

While the benefits of a successful job looked extravagant to anybody on the outside, the endless nights of guilt and feeling dirty after a job was not something one can ever be prepared for.

“The usual, bullet?” the bartender snaps you out of your thoughts by calling your nickname. You made sure that nobody ever found out your true identity. Switching names, ID’s and phones often to ensure the feds always were a step behind you.

You smile bitterly at the bartender and nod. It was alright, you thought. The weekend wasn’t over just yet.

The following night you are bending closer to the mirror as you trace the tip of a red lipstick over your lips as a finishing touch for tonight’s look. You made sure to switch up dresses, not wanting to risk being seen in the previous night’s outfit. The high heels from yesterday were switched for chunkier thigh-high boots, which complimented your black dress.

The dress in question was what one could call a lucky charm. You have been able to secure many deals whenever wearing it, hence why you created the belief that it would somehow make you luckier and keep you safe. Whatever the science behind such beliefs was, you just needed something to keep adding fuel to your hopes for the night. Tonight was Sunday, the last day of the weekend and your last chance of the week to secure a deal that would ensure stability for the upcoming future.

Honestly, you did not really give a shit about how you’d end up surviving a month without a deal. You could crash at an acquaintance's place. Or get some quick cash by selling a designer bag or two. But as your eyes meet a pair of soft, brown ones staring right at you through the full-body mirror, you are suddenly reminded of the reason why you keep trying.

You turn around, eyes landing on the young boy sitting at the edge of the hotel-room bed. The child was watching you get ready in silence, never interrupting or questioning what for.

“Y/n, do you really have to leave tonight too?” Jisung mumbles, looking down at his chubby fingers as they impatiently roll and fiddle over one another. You stay silent, gaze shifting to notice how he was growing nervous by the way his feet swung and hit the edge of the bed or the way his lips twisted outwards into a pout.

With a sigh, you take a seat beside him on the soft bed. Your hand reaches to grab his smaller one, squeezing it in reassurance. Although Jisung had just turned six, he was a lot smarter than most kids his age. He knew that the life you both lived was not ideal and he was humble and never took things for granted when you managed to bring in a lot of money.

You remembered how tiny he was when your sister first brought him over. She had taken something again, you weren’t sure what but her addiction seemed to grow stronger. The excuses of being busy or tired and needing help taking care of her only son, Jisung, only rolled in as soon as she had gotten a glance of you being responsible enough to take care of him. You were barely an adult when that happened, having to take care of a child throughout your late teens was not something you desired either. Shivers still run down your spine when you remember the night Jisung was to move in with you.

“Auntie? Can you please come get me? Mommy is scaring me” a tiny, familiar voice whispers. You were barely awake, eyes stinging as you lifted your phone from your ear, the bright screen blinding your sleepy eyes. You weren’t sure if you were dreaming still, your body engulfed by the warm and heavy blanket in your bed.

“H-hello?” Jisung whispered again and you finally realized that it was no dream. You were on a call.

You glance over to your night stand, the time reading 1:22AM and you wonder why Jisung was awake at such a time. And most importantly, how did he manage to call you using your sister’s phone?

“Hey buddy, what happened? What is mommy doing?” you ask gently, trying to mask your scratchy morning voice to not scare him further. Truth be told, as soon as the words “mommy” left his lips you could guess what this would be about, but you surely were not prepared for it to be as severe as it ended up being.

“Mommy is- mommy said she has to free me. She said I could meet daddy in heaven if I let her” he whispers, as if the call to you was a secret. As if he was hiding. “-And I wanna see daddy but mommy has a knife and I remember auntie said I can’t touch a knife” although he stumbled over his words and grammar, you did not need any clarification. You sit up in bed, throwing the covers off your body with such force that they end up on the floor. Never in your life had your heart dropped through your whole body so fast and ended down at your heels. It was as if a shock wave went through your body, sliding a heavy brick over your chest until you couldn't breathe properly. She had really gone insane now.

“Listen to auntie, baby. Where are you right now?” you ask as you reach for any clothing that could cover your body, never even sparing the pieces of fabric a glance as you rush to pull them onto your body.

“The toilet-” he mumbles but his voice is cut off by a gasp as you hear noises over the phone. Loud thuds make Jisung cry out and for a second you thought there was no way you would make it in time to see your nephew again.

“Lock the door baby, auntie is on her way, okay? Don’t hang up the phone” you command, leaving your dark bedroom, mind awake but body sloppily moving from exhaustion as you fumble with the stubborn lock to your apartment.

You weren’t sure how to get to your sister’s place. It was a twenty-minute car ride away and at this time no taxis were out by the worn-down neighborhood you had been living in for the time being. That is how you committed your first crime, legally speaking. Your eyes catch the tall street lamps shining straight down onto a row of bicycles, all alined perfectly and strapped to a metal bicycle stand. If that wasn’t a sign from the universe, you weren't sure what was. No guilt was ever felt as your eyes landed on a bicycle with a missing lock. It was way too tall for your body, the seat reaching way past your torso. But you were determined, you had to leave now and it wasn’t like you were stealing because you wanted to. You'd return it as soon as you’d be back, with your nephew.

“Auntie is coming, I’m coming to get you. Don’t open the door until I’m there” you breathe heavily, throwing your phone into the basket attached to the front of the steering handles as your feet push off the uneven ground to gain momentum and get the wheels spinning. You barely reach the pedals when you sit down on the bicycle seat, legs long enough so that your toes could push the pedals and keep rolling down the poorly-lit streets. Your lungs burned as you kept pushing your legs to work the pedals quicker. You could make out some sounds coming from the speaker on your phone as Jisung asked how much longer you’d be.

“Almost there, auntie is almost there baby” you yell, hoping he’d hear you even when harsh wind hit you as you turned and navigated the night to your sister’s house.

“Y/n?” Jisung’s voice cuts in, pushing the flashback back into the depths of your brain. You blink quickly and look over at him, meeting his gaze as he stares right at you with his questioning eyes. Jisung looked a lot like your sister, round shiny eyes and healthy curly hair, both colored by a combination of auburn brown. Yet he was very different from her. He was mature for his age, but also very sensitive and caring. He had experienced things he really shouldn’t have and you sometimes worry about the effects it could have on his future.

“Sorry buddy, I zoned out” you chuckle, playing it off as a goofy smile spread over your lips. You reach up and mess up his curls to get a high-pitched giggle out of him.

“You know that I have to work. But I promise to be back as soon as I can. I'll even bring you a burger” you raise a knowing brow at your nephew who’s lips now part slightly at your promise. Of course he’d be sold at the mention of a burger. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Now tell me the rules one more time” you tell him as you stand up from the bed, grabbing a small crossbody bag to hang it over your shoulder. This was routine every time you went out and left him all by himself. Something nibbles at your heart when you realize just how lonely Jisung must feel while you're gone, but you convince yourself you were doing it with his best interest in mind. And since you were leaving him all alone in a hotel, he may as well learn to stay safe.

“Don’t leave the room. Don’t open the door, even for staff and if they ask why I’m alone, I say my parents are out for dinner. Call you only in emergencies. Call the police in serious danger-” he lists the rules one by one, holding up his chubby fingers to help him hold count. You nod in affirmation. “Well done. Now be good, I will be home before you even know it” you lean over to place a kiss to Jisung’s forehead, stealing one last glance at the boy as he watches you leave with a small pout on his lips.

Sunday’s were not half as busy as Saturdays. The line of people outside was barely stretching down the sidewalk when it usually went all the way around the street. You make your way to the front of the line, never facing the people who vocally complain about you cutting in line.

“Hey Mark, new suit today?” You send the bouncer a charming smile as he recognizes you, nodding with a pleased look.

“New dress today, bullet?” the tall man winks and you roll your eyes playfully, passing by him and into the storm of loud music and people.

Today you decide to change your tactic, moving straight to the bar instead of making your way to a higher ground and picking a target out. You silently thank yourself for wearing boots instead of a tight pair of heels like the previous night.

The music blasting today was rather calmer than yesterday, a mix of RnB and reggaeton setting the mood to your advantage. Before you could take a seat you are suddenly interrupted by a body stepping in front of you. You look up at the man, raising your eyebrows at him before rolling your eyes and stepping aside to move out of his way. Yet the stranger follows, stepping right after you to block your way.

“Move” you say bitterly, wondering what the asshole’s problem was. He didn’t look much older than you and he wasn’t dressed to impress anyway.

“Y/n wasn’t it?” he says and it takes you everything not to react. Nobody in this area should have enough information to even know your name so why was this man in front of you saying it so proudly? You were careful not to expose the way your stomach squeezed for a second.

“Wrong person, buddy. Now move” you roll your eyes and this time push the man away with force to make yourself comfortable at the bar. You don’t turn around to check whether he was still after you. After a tense minute of waiting for something to happen, you sigh in relief. Maybe he had seen you years ago and recognized you but either way, you could not engage with anybody who threatened to expose you to the feds.

The bar was even emptier than yesterday, all people migrated to the dance floor but hey, at least Wooyoung seemed to be missing too, to your luck. He must've been successful with picking the right target yesterday, maybe he would have already left the country and was spending nights on a resort somewhere across the globe.

The bartender brings over a welcome shot of some liquor and you down it almost immediately. Chatting up people at the bar didn’t seem like the right tactic and you once again found yourself changing your plans last second as you stood up to disappear into a crowd of dancing people. The club wasn’t fully packed and you were sure that tonight, you would be able to handle the people around you. You notice the way people move in waves, eyes closed as their bodies sway them side to side to the music which means bodies start bumping and pushing into you the deeper you go. As much as you’d love to give in and just relax for once, you look around to spot any man decent enough to try hitting on.

Recently you have noticed a downfall in targets, downfall in successful deals and overall bad luck in business. You knew larger cities would have other workers of your field, but was it really that bad? People familiar with you named you bullet when you first started conning. You were quick, silent and lethal just like a bullet. But it seems as if your reputation was slowly going downhill as more and more nights left you empty handed or worse, beaten to a target by Wooyoung. You didn’t even notice when he had moved cities, started going to the same hunting places as you and now even stealing your targets right in front of you.

Back where you started, everybody had their own place to perform business at, always resulting in getting at least one successful deal a month. But it seems the capitals have no rules. Whoever reaches first, keeps the target.

You lose track of time as the bass of the music travels through your body with a buzz, successfully throwing your concentration off course as you give in and sway to the enchanting music. Whatever happens tonight, you were not going to beat yourself up for not getting a deal, yet another week in a row. It feels good to not have to worry, but you have gotten way ahead of yourself as your eyes shoot up once a pair of arms wrap themselves around your torso from behind.

Suddenly, you are hyper aware of your body. The humid air in the club made it no easier to breathe, your chest rising dramatically to gasp for air as panic set in. You trash around and turn around in the embrace to face whoever had approached you from behind, eyes wide from the initial shock. You are met with a familiar face. The asshole from earlier stood in front of you with a cocky smile. Your hands fly up to push at his chest, yet to no avail. He had trapped you.

“Why so surprised, did you think I wouldn’t find you again?” He speaks over the music. His hands are locked behind you, pushing on your back to close the gap between your bodies as he practically glued your chests together.

“Let me go '' you yell over the music, heart beating harshly against your rib cage and you wonder whether you would start hyperventilating in a club full of strangers.

“You could at least dance with me” he answers and before you can reply, he moves to forcefully sway your bodies to the music and you can’t put your mind as to why he would go to such lengths to get you. The fact that he had so surely said your name earlier only fueled the anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach. You try to take a good look at his face but the strobing lights were throwing you off your guard, making it harder to see the man and also remember to keep yourself from going into an anxiety attack.

“I said, let-”

“-Let go off her” another voice cuts in from behind you, loud and clear. You don’t put much effort into identifying whoever was stepping in, just wondering how much longer you could keep breathing. Soon you feel lighter. You watch as the man’s arms swing back from your body as if somebody had forcefully pried them off.

You take a step back to free yourself from the proximity of the stranger but instead bump into another chest. You whip around, still in panic as the crowd around you seemed to quickly be closing in, every voice ringing in your ears. You catch a glimpse of blonde hair and as if on command, your body determines it safe for a time out. Your knees grow weak as your brain goes completely blank with bright white light blinding your vision.

“Fuck” Wooyoung mumbles, hooking his arms around your torso to keep you from hitting the ground completely.

“Fuck off” he barks at the man who watches with a blank face, nodding to himself before raising his arms up as if to indicate he was innocent as he disappeared into the crowd. With the man gone, Wooyoung's problems did not lessen. With determination, he squats down to wrap his arms around your upper thighs before lifting you off the ground and onto his shoulder. He makes sure to pull down on the elastic material of your dress, not wanting to expose you to the people around. Thankfully everybody seemed to be busy dancing or drinking, never looking twice in his direction as he carried you outside.

The line outside of the club had dissipated by now, it was way too late for people to keep entering. A queue of taxis were lined outside by the sidewalk, patiently waiting for customers to start rolling in but Wooyoung had other plans. He walks across the well-lit street filling up with people dancing and singing still as they come out of multiple packed clubs for fresh air.

Soon, he is at the parking lot he used whenever he took his own burgundy Mercedes to a night out. He unlocks the car and opens the passenger seat to set you down in it, making sure your body leaned against it comfortably before sighing. He catches his breath, allowing for questions to roll in. His most obvious one, why the hell had you passed out so suddenly? And who was the guy at the club trying to get to you? The question he refused to acknowledge though was why he had even gone up to help you in the first place. His mind convinces him he was merely being a decent human being, it’s the least he could do after snatching multiple deals right from under your nose.

The faded sounds of people shouting and music coming from the clubs is what slowly brought you back, eyes fluttering as the chilly wind grazes your exposed legs. It was silent now and the people from the club weren’t crowding you anymore. You catch the sight of a cream-colored car interior and suddenly realize you were not at the club anymore. Sitting up straight you immediately look around to get an understanding of your surroundings. The car door was open, so you were not being kidnapped. How did you get here?

“Geez, calm down, you’d think I was kidnapping you or something” Wooyoung snickers, seemingly having similar worries as you. He steps forward to reveal himself to you, unsure of how you would react to his presence. Both of you weren’t really celebrating the fact that you had settled on working at the same club. Would you tell him off for what happened yesterday? And many other nights before that? For the first time in his life, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

You look up at him, somewhat surprised that out of all the people that could have helped you, it was him standing in front of you. Small recollections flow back to you and you manage to piece together that you were in Wooyoung’s car after you so gracefully collapsed in the middle of the dance floor at LUX. You clear your throat and stretch your legs out of his car, standing up to face him.

You open your mouth to say something but you realize you were not sure what smart comment to insert in such a situation. Wooyoung's eyes look at you blankly, and you wonder if he thinks he has successfully caught you in a weak moment. You couldn’t allow him to even think such thoughts.

“Thanks for the help” you say, but curse yourself as your voice comes out thin and light. “But you didn’t have to. Don’t you have new money to spend?” you sure sound like a jerk. But rather a jerk than letting Wooyoung think he was superior to you.

“You can never just admit I helped you and move on with a simple ‘thanks’, can you? Besides if it wasn’t for me, who knows what that asshole would have done. Who is he even?” Wooyoung is quick to defend himself, his chin lifting higher as each word comes out quicker than the other. You notice how easily heated he becomes when he speaks yet for some reason it stretches your lips upwards into a humored look, which you of course quickly hide.

“If I knew him, do you think I'd react the way I did?” you roll your eyes, hoping that if you ignored the first part of his sentence, he’d forget about it as well.

“Forget it, since you don’t want help, you’re welcome to go” Wooyoung raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to act.

“Fine, good night” You spit but as you whip around to storm off, your foot catches the edge of the sidewalk, sending you flying down onto the asphalt ground. You catch yourself on your palms, wincing as the rough ground scratches your knees and if it wasn’t for your boots, you are certain you would have torn your skin apart.

Wooyoung is surprised to see your body sprawl over the ground below him and steps closer to get a strong grip around your arm, pulling you up effortlessly.

“Ow that hurts!” you yelp at his grip, standing up only to feel shocks of pain shoot up through your left ankle and up your calf. You look down at the dirty material of your boots and wonder how long it would take before you settle down on the sidewalk and just let all your frustration out.

Wooyoung sighs dramatically and instead snakes an arm around your waist, holding you up as you lift your left ankle off the floor to stop the pain.

“I don’t need your help, good night Wooyoung” he mimics a high-pitched voice, face grimacing as he mocks your earlier words. You stay silent, clenching your jaw to keep you from saying something you’d feel guilty for later at night. Besides, you needed the help for real this time and he was the only one around.

“I can give you a drive home, but I expect you to at least thank me. Sincerely” he offers, holding your waist tightly. Wooyoung subconsciously moves you closer until your side is pressed against his and you are suddenly aware of his scent. You couldn’t make out each individual ingredient in his cologne, but your mind settles that it's a mix of bergamot and musk. It is surprisingly not too strong and you hate how well it suits him. You wonder if he would notice you moving closer to catch another whiff of it, but decide against it. Men like Wooyoung shouldn’t be complemented, their ego would get too big and you had enough of his already.

“So?” he speaks up, the hand on your waist giving you a small squeeze to remind you that he was awaiting an answer. You bite down on your tongue before your ego gets the best of you and just chirp out a dry “please”.

For some astronomical reason Wooyoung is not in his usual cocky mood, but you tell yourself not to get used to it. He simply nods and carefully helps you sit down in the leather passenger seat of his car again. Shivers erupt over your bare arms when Wooyoung removes his arm from around you, suddenly realizing how warm he had felt against your skin. You push the thoughts towards the back of your brain, not wanting to overthink the matter. You get comfortable and buckle your seatbelt, observing the details of his car as he shuts your door and moves to get in from the driver’s side.

As Wooyoung focuses on starting the car, you finally have time to look him over closer. His hair was dyed blonde, that you knew already. But what you had failed to acknowledge was the way it made his golden skin glow brighter, accentuating it in a way that you hadn’t noticed before. He wore a button down with cheetah print and you wondered how anybody his age could pull it off, yet he made it seem as if it was made solely for him. The first three buttons were unbuttoned and you couldn’t help but trail your eyes down the vein on his neck that disappeared into his prominent collarbone. You let your eyes glance just a little further down to sneak a peek of the smooth skin that was the beginning of his chest.

“You done staring me down? I need your address” Wooyoung mused, never turning his head as his eyes focused on the road ahead. You catch the way his lips tug into a small smirk and you ball your fists in your lap to keep you from cursing at him. Of course you had been wrong to think he would be free of his cockiness.

“The Imperial Hotel” is all that leaves your mouth as you turn to look out the car window, refusing to catch yourself loosening up and trailing your eyes over places where they shouldn’t be.

“The Imperial Hotel?” Wooyoung repeats, tone low and and curious. “Are you really broke enough to stay at a hotel?” he asks but realizes his mistake right after the question came out in a way that he didn’t intend for it to. “I mean, don’t you have a place?”

You snort, eyebrows raised as you turn to look at him, arms crossing over your chest. Who was he to question you like this?

“I don’t have a place because I like the anonymity. I like moving around so I don’t need a place” you bark back, hating how you felt threatened by his attitude. Not that you would admit it. “Besides I don’t have to explain anything to you, just take me there.”

Wooyoung stops at a red light, using the opportunity to raise a questioning eyebrow as your eyes meet. His gaze is challenging.

“Take you there?” he repeats your words, each word coming out of his mouth as if you offended him.

“Please” you mumble.

“Much better” he drives off with a pleased grin. The next moments you find yourself in silence, to your surprise comfortable. You listen to the sound of the wheels moving against the asphalt at different speeds as Wooyoung drives. For a moment you feel a warm feeling of what could be dejavu in your chest, as if this has happened before. As if driving together like this was something you did often. Your eyes catch a bright red and yellow sign and you are suddenly reminded of Jisung.

“Wait!” you yell out suddenly, making Wooyoung slam on the breaks as he looks over at you with a concerned expression. His sharp brows are knitted together as he questions you.

“What? What happened?” he breathes, seemingly awaiting something much more serious than the question that comes out of your mouth.

“Could you um, go through the drive through?” you ask carefully, nodding to the fast-food sign right off the freeway.

“Do you realize you just made me slam on my breaks and potentially crash my new car just for Mcdonald’s?” he snaps, immediately checking the mirrors behind him for traffic which was empty seeing as the time was about to hit three am. He clicks his tongue but follows your request, turning to drive up to the restaurant.

“Don’t you have food at home?” he grumbles as you lean over his seat to get a glance at the menu screen outside his window. You support your hand on the center control between your seats, stretching as far as you could over him.

Wooyoung’s gaze shifts to your face in front of his, eyes narrow as they jump over your features and the way you concentrate on the menu. He hesitates but slowly brings a hand forward, warm fingers pushing back a rogue strand of hair behind your ear in order to clear your view. You are busy ordering Jisung his promised burger to notice, voice loud and clear as you speak to the employee over the microphone.

As soon as you’re done placing your order you turn your head to look at Wooyoung, it would be nice to ask if he wanted something since he was nice enough to drive here. It was the least you could do anyway.

You blink in surprise at how close your two faces are. Close enough to feel his shaky warm breath on your cheek. His eyes immediately fall to your parted lips as he swallows harshly. You take notice of this, your own eyes following his actions as you watch the tip of his tongue peek out to brush over his lower lip, wetting it. His lips glisten in the harsh lights situated outside the fast-food restaurant, illuminating the skin.

“D-did you want something too?” your voice is almost a whisper as you speak, slowly sinking back into your seat as if whatever just happened would go unnoticed. Wooyoung bites down on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head as an answer before he drives up to the window, seemingly unbothered. You press your back against the heated seat, wondering why your heart suddenly had picked up its speed. At this point in your career, you always found yourself around men, none of which made you nervous simply by existing so close to you. Wooyoung’s expression seemed sour, jaw clenching as if he was in deep thought.

A part of you wondered if this was a part of his game that he played with his targets. In which case you’d totally understand why he scored successful deals nine out of ten times. You weren’t sure if you wished for another moment like this or if it was that lone single shot of alcohol you had taken at LUX coming back to make you overthink, so you decide against thinking at all. You are tired, that was the true excuse.

The rest of the drive continues in silence. Yet somehow your earlier plans to overthink had betrayed you as your brain jumped at anything you could connect to Wooyoung. From how you first met, to how you had seen him work his targets, to right now.

“We’re here” Wooyoung announces, stopping by the entrance of the obviously fancy hotel. Even though it was late night, a doorman stood guard and you kind of felt bad for him. You unbuckle your belt and shift to move but sudden pain shoots through your ankle again.

“Fuck” you mumble and look up at Wooyoung who was silently watching you struggle.

“Don’t tell me I have to carry you inside too” he says, wondering why he even bothered helping you if it would have taken so much time. Yet never truly complaining because he honestly hadn’t minded it all that much.

“If it burdens you that much, I’ll just hop on one leg” you scoff, if he chose to help, he might as well go through with helping you all the way to your room. But the Mcdonald’s take-away bag suddenly reminds you that Jisung was in the room and there was no way Wooyoung could find out. “Help me to the elevator at least?” and as Wooyoung opens his mouth to cut you off, you add a silent “Please”.

Wooyoung sighs and gets out of the car as a way of agreeing. He walked around the front before opening the door for you. Shivers run down your spine when the cold air hits your legs but you choose to stay silent, knowing that if you would complain it would only turn into endless bickering between the two of you.

You place a foot on the ground, lifting your hurt ankle up and Wooyoung immediately leans closer to reach for you inside of the car. One of his arms sneak under your thighs while the other wraps around your back, lifting you up into his embrace with ease before shutting the car door with his foot. You stay silent as you let him carry you, eyes trailing back to the golden skin peeking out of his buttoned down shirt once again. Since when is a tiny piece of exposed skin something to be shy of? Your eyes trail further up, running along his neck and sharp jawline. You weren’t sure why you were so keen on disliking him, maybe it was in fact that he was too pretty and that he was aware of it.

Wooyoung sets you down by the elevator. It was as if any time you spent with him, whether it was in the car or him carrying you inside, was over in a few seconds and you felt somewhat disappointed as a weight settled in your lower abdomen. Even though you found yourself surrounded by men almost every weekend, there was none that you had sincerely liked. Then, do you like Wooyoung? Probably not. He simply caught you in a weak moment and that was all. You will probably not hear the end of his heroic actions next weeknd at LUX.

“Well... you’re welcome” Wooyoung teases, straightening up as he pushes the button to call on the elevator. The doors open immediately and you dread leaving him. Wait, dread was too strong of a word.

“Thanks” you reply, putting on a poker face to make sure he wouldn’t crack your ego any further. Wooyoung snorts lightly at your attempt at thanking him, but decides to accept it.

“Well then, see you next weekend, honey” he shrugs and turns to leave, raising his hand above his head to wave goodbye as he walks off. Dick, can’t even face me when he leaves, you think and stumble into the elevator, hissing as painful shocks shoot up your ankle.

“Don’t say it like that, people will think you are someone to me” you raise your voice, knowing he’d be able to hear it.

“And am I not, honey?” he glances over his shoulder but just then, the elevator doors separate you as they trap you into the tight compartment. You sigh, shaking your head to yourself.

The elevator was surrounded by mirrors and you catch yourself staring back at an expression of a teenage girl who had been out on a first date with her crush. Only as you look at yourself do you realize your cheeks had heated up and your lips were pulled up into a tiny smile.

You quickly furrow your brows again, trading the smile for your usual scowl to seem unaffected by anything, or anyone.

The elevator gives a metallic ding to indicate you arrived at your floor. The number 13 stands out in golden numbering, how ironic.

You assume Jisung is asleep because nobody greets you as you enter the hotel room. Throughout the year of living together, you’ve mastered the technique of going into rooms almost soundless. As if you're a mouse sneaking in to steal a piece of cheese. Finally you are away from any watching eyes. Finally you do not need to think about the way you act and what to say.

Your cellphone comes to life as it lights up the hotel room and you curse, hopping towards it on your only useful leg. Who is even awake at this time? Could it be…Wooyoung? No, you can’t expect him to even know your number. And even if he did, why would he text you?

You slide the message open and see an attachment. The number was unknown and you wondered if somebody had sent you a drunk text by accident. You open the image. It does not even take two seconds for you to register what it was. The number 13 stood out in gold and the background wall was a warm beige, just like the one on your floor if not the exact same one. You furrow your brows before a text bubble pops up.

“You got away too quick tonight, thank your little boyfriend for that. Next time, it’s over for you”

#ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez scenario

47 notes · View notes

lilhwahwa · 2 years

Text

heart swindler - J.WY (Part 1)

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Female Pronouns Conwoman reader! x Conman Wooyoung! Enemies to Lovers. Angst. Fluff. Smut.

words: 7.8K

tags: @bl3ss3d-curs3d @mayosgrises @k-queen

MASTERLIST

---

The night club was jam packed this Saturday night. You could recognize some rap song blasting through the bass-boosted speakers, blurring out the sounds of people around you. The clubs in the central area had no motivation in making a good mix for the night, rather re-using anything that could be considered loud and sexual enough.