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seresinhangmanjake · 1 month

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The Harkonnen's Sweet Thing

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You watched your brother kill the man you love--a man you were once gifted to by the Baron--and now that he is gone, you think Paul will use you as a political pawn in his war. And you're right. But you're shocked to discover who is demanding to have you.

Words: 2650

Notes/Warnings: Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Angst but also fluffy-ish stuff. Implied smut. Mention of pregnancy. I think that’s it. TG:M people ignore me. I don’t know what I’m doing here either, but i'm embracing it for now.

Part 2

When your brother pierced through armor into pale flesh, you felt it as if he had driven that blade into your body instead of the body of the man you love. You felt the shock of icy steel penetrating warm and delicate tissue, and the suffocation that came from the mutilation of your lung. You felt droplets of blood run down your front as you reached for the blade that was not there. As children, you were taught not to remove it. Not unless sufficient care was nearby to stop the bleeding before too much was lost.

Paul did not respect that knowledge. He yanked his knife out of Feyd’s torso and watched with relief as he collapsed to the ground. His body landed with a thud that matched the heavy beat of your heart. A beat that reminded you your blood was rushing strong, keeping you alive while your lover was draining dry of the strength to keep himself from leaving this world, from leaving you.

You wailed in the silence of those around you. Screamed at the top of your lungs as tears streamed down your face. You tried to go to him but the Fremen snatched you before you could reach him, forcing you to your knees, one of them slapping a hand over your mouth. This was not the time for hysterical outbursts; it was a time to stare in awe as a new leader accepted his victory and claimed power over the emperor and his daughter.

“Shut up, girl,” a male voice spit in your ear. He was tired of the struggle you were putting up against the hand squeezing your face. You were ruining his opportunity to witness a beautiful moment in history. A defining moment. A moment you didn’t give two fucks about.

No one spared you a glance save for the witch whose vibrant eyes were drilling into the side of your skull. A woman your father had instructed you receive as a stepmother following your third birthday. A manipulative woman whose smile in front of the Duke had masked the scowl permanently seared onto her face when looking at you—a decades-long act that the capture and death of your father had freed her from. And she’d wasted not a second displaying her distaste for his daughter.

Not long ago you'd thought to thank Lady Jessica for not loving you. Her lack of love made her so terribly desperate to rid herself of you that when cornered the night your family was attacked, she’d thrown you right into the arms of the Harkonnens—a fate she believed would destroy you rather than thrust you into a life you would come to cherish.

“A gift for you, nephew,” the baron had said after the fighting ceased and the soldiers, with you in their grasp, had returned to their unfamiliar home.

Feyd-Rautha had not rushed when he descended the staircase and approached you for the first time. His eyes were unblinking as he’d taken in his present; a slow drawl from head to toe that sent shivers down your spine.

“An Atreides,” Feyd had said in a low voice, deep and thick and eerily lovely.

The baron’s voice did not contain the same appeal. “Yes. Do you like it? A new pet for you to ruin.”

You’d stood frozen as Feyd traced a knuckle down your cheek before grasping your chin and running his thumb over your bottom lip. He’d possessed not a lick of shame when his index finger drew a line from the dip of your throat to your cleavage. There had been no consideration for your feelings when he tucked that same finger between your breasts and the neckline of your nightgown and lightly tugged you forward.

You had gasped with your stumble, your hands pressing against his chest to catch your fall while he smirked at the blush tinting your cheeks. His tongue then darted out to dampen his lips before he moved his hand to the curve of your waist and squeezed.

“Perfect,” He’d said, not in a loud declaration of appreciation, but in a tone meant for your ears only. Then he’d grabbed you by the wrist and led you to his chambers.

When the door had slammed behind you after you were jerked inside the room, you were suddenly filled to the brim with panic. You’d heard the rumors. What would he do to you? How would he do it? Would you suffer long?

A tear had slipped down your cheek that, once noticed, was brushed away with his thumb.

“Do not worry yourself unnecessarily.”

You’d swallowed, stuttering, “Wh-What do you mean?”

He’d pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, exposing pale skin taught over defined, well-trained muscle. Then he’d stepped into your space, inching you backward until your spine was flush with the wall. He’d fisted the flimsy, nearly see-through fabric of your nightgown in his hand and slowly dragged it up your body until fingers could sneak under the hem to graze your inner thigh.

You’d sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable waves of heat that rippled from his touch.

“Atreides or not, you’re much too precious to ruin the way my uncle suggests,” he had said, his lips a hair's-width away from yours. “I've been looking for you for so long. You're mine now, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He hadn’t loved your hesitation—you could see it in his eyes and in the downturn of his lips—but he was satisfied when you’d truthfully said:

“No.” Because you weren’t. Not after he had brushed that tear off of your cheek.

His next question had caused your heart to skip a beat from the concoction of emotions it shot through you. Fear of the unknown mixed with unexpected excitement.

“Have you done this before?”

You’d shaken your head and in response he lightly nodded, his nose nudging yours.

“You want to?” he’d asked, hiking your leg up to his hip, and you found yourself nodding as well. “I won’t make it hurt.”

You’d replied with a soft “Ok” before accepting his kiss with as much fervor as he was giving it, thankful that what you’d imagined was awaiting you upon your arrival in foreign territory was far from what you were receiving.

Days later, when you had mentioned that he did not live up to the rumors of his cruelty extending to all areas of his life, he’d hummed. Said, “I make many bleed, and enjoy it. I feed off of their pain. Those who have been in my bed are not spared this, and it will not be uncommon for you to see me stained with the death of others, including my former pets.”

He’d paused then, allowing you a moment to question your future as one of those pets, if that's what he considered you.

“But I have been searching for something that I’ve wanted for a very long time,” he’d said. “Something that hasn't existed within these walls. Something I will never want to harm. Something…soft…and sweet,” he had admitted to your surprise.

He’d then told you that you were that sweet thing. That he’d known it from the moment he saw you. That he was choosing you.

But it was a choice that had its repercussions.

All things must have balance, and you had tipped the scales. From his gentleness toward you, a darker, more gruesome beast emerged when facing off with others. A brutal warrior who never surrendered and never lost. A sadistic man who showed no mercy to the opponents whose blood you would later wash from his body. He had annihilated his previous reputation as just the famed killer of Geidi Prime and evolved into something more, all because of you.

That was why you thought he would win against Paul. Your brother was skilled, but the universe had long known the name Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen for his prowess in combat and his ruthlessness which had only grown with time.

So why was it not your brother on the floor with his love sobbing and struggling to reach him?

In the thirteen days since your lover’s death, it is that question that has robbed you of all peace.

Despite your brother having escorted you back to Caladan for the time being, you find no sense of home or happiness in your birthplace. You walk the beaches and fields that, as a child, you dreaded one day leaving, but they are not the same. Nearly a year has gone by since you were last here, however, so much of what you once loved about this planet is overshadowed by the shattered heart caused by Feyd's death.

When you were young, your father would often express his wishes for your future. He would paint a beautiful image of you bringing your children to play in the gardens of your childhood home, carefree and unburdened. It was a source of comfort that he used to mask the reminder of your duty as an Atreides: that you would not be marrying and having children out of love, you would marry in the name of peace and produce heirs in the name of security. And it seems in the end, he was right.

With Feyd unable to claim you, Paul will be the one to secure new arrangements for your future, which just so happens to greatly fare in his favor. After all, he just declared war, and you are the ripened political pawn at his disposal.

“Are you well?”

You turn as sharply as you can at the intrusive voice, but the uncomfortable skirts of your dress are thick and stiff, restricting your movements. Feyd never made you wear anything like this and you forgot what it's like to be weighed down by layers of fabric. You fucking hate it.

Paul stands a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back and a light smile on his face. Clearing his throat, he joins you on the balcony attached to your old room.

“I know we haven’t spoken much about what’s to come. I’m sure you’ve been curious,” he says.

You shrug, shake your head, and return your gaze to the horizon where ocean meets sky.

“We have matters to discuss.”

Matters such as where he will be sending you off to be married, you imagine. He must act quickly if he intends to establish and gain control over house alliances, since they weren't overly enthusiastic about accepting him as their leader.

“Let's sit down,” he tells you. He grasps your hand before you can object and guides you to one of the balcony benches. Once you’re settled, he takes a seat beside you and says, “I am going to ask you something. And I want honesty.”

You sigh. “What?”

“When you were with the Harkonnens for those many months, were you treated like a slave as I had feared, or were you something far from it?”

Your eyes narrow. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because it’s important,” Paul states, staring you directly in the eye. “I’ve been thinking about the way you wept over him after we fought, and how he denied every offer I made in exchange for your release…” With his pause, he shakes his head. “I thought maybe he had messed with your mind, confused you, and that was why you were so hysterical over his loss…but that’s not right, is it.”

“Paul–”

“Does he love you?”

It takes conscious effort to keep your body from shifting uncomfortably. “What is it to you?”

“He survived his wounds,” Paul says.

The casualness with which he shares that news heavily contrasts everything that runs through you. Your heart stops. Your lips part, unsuccessful in drawing in oxygen. Your eyes no longer see anything but Feyd’s face as it flashes in front of you. The way he looked when he last smiled at you. The way he looked the last time he came inside of you. The look of him when he died—or almost died. Death had been there, looming over him.

You’re trying to will away the tears. Paul is watching you too closely. “Wh–What?” you say.

“He’s alive, and he is demanding you be returned to him,” he informs you. “So, tell me: is he truly threatening me so aggressively over one of his ‘pets’? Or is he threatening me to get back the woman he loves?”

The woman he loves. You never imagined yourself in a situation where your brother would ask if a member of a centuries-long rival house loves you. But then again, you never imagined a member of a centuries-long rival house loving you to begin with.

You remember the night he told you. It was late and your bodies were bare after having bathed together. You were searching for your nightgown when he said “Come to bed, my love.”

You sighed, defeated. He’d called you that before, but whether it was real or not was such a mystery and it hurt your heart a little bit more each time. “You shouldn’t call me your love unless you mean it,” you finally told him.

You heard his footsteps when he stood from the bed. He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “Why would I call you that if I do not mean it?” he asked. Then he hummed and said “You know me better than that, my love” before dipping his head lower and nipping the shell of your ear with his teeth.

So yes, he loved you—loves you. But there’s something in Paul’s voice as he asks you that question that gives you pause. It’s too gentle as if luring you into a false sense of security. The Harkonnens are not known for their capacity to love, and Feyd loving you could be seen as a weakness; his one vulnerable spot.

As monotone as you can manage, you reply, “If you’re being threatened you should just send me back and be done with it. I know you have more important things to worry about.”

Paul’s lips thin in disappointment. “I can’t send you back,” he says. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

He sighs. “Because I believe he loves you. And I need to see how far a Harkonnen is willing to bend for an Atreides,” he says. “If he wants you back, he will have to be open to negotiations.”

You stand sharply, take a few steps from him, and blow out a heavy breath through your nose. You were told your brother changed after drinking that magic water and it shows. Holding you hostage for political gain is not the same as marrying you off.

“I would like to be done with this conversation,” you say with a huff.

“I understand,” he replies, so you turn to enter your bedroom. But before you’re fully through the door, he says, “There’s more, though.”

You freeze.

“I had a dream,” he says, his voice coming closer. “There was a boy, no more than five years old. He had your features and your hair but his skin was of the same paleness as the Harkonnens.”

Sucking in a breath, you brace yourself with a hand gripping the door’s frame.

“You’re pregnant, sister,” he tells you, leaning against the opposite side of the doorway. “But I'm very glad to know that the heir of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is a product of love rather than an unfortunate incident,” he says. “Additional incentive, should it be necessary.”

In your shock, you can’t look at him. He doesn’t need you to. You can see his smirk in your peripherals, then he pushes off the frame and heads toward the main door of your room.

“Try to get some rest, sister,” he calls over his shoulder. “You really shouldn't be on your feet too long.”

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune movie

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kingconia · 10 months

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hiiiiii! ugh, i am not sure if you take requests? but if you do, can i ask you leona one, where reader is the descendant of scar, and afterglow savanna always treats her like shit, thinking she will try to kill farena or leona?? idk tbh the dynamic between her and others, but maybe with a prompt "why are you keep protecting me?" "because if anyone kills you it will be me?" BUT NOT ANGSTY MORE LIKE CHEESY ONE like she is joking she has no plans to do so!!

(also maybe she is friend with azul bc both of them manipulative masterminds idk)

A/N: that's actually sounds so fun. i am genuinely invested, though, i had never thought that someone will ask me to write something. but, oh, darling, thank you. i would love do that more, so if anyone wants, i am open to your ideas.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR × READER, WHO IS SCAR'S DESCENDANT

warnings: not detailed mention of blood and some threats with mentions of gore? it is lighter than it sounds.

Hatred followed you from a very young age. And it wasn't necessarily yours.

You were six, when you learned to understand that kindness will not help you survive. But cruelty will.

Abandoned, throwed away, you were nothing in the world of kings and queens. Your whole existence were cursed from the day you made your first breath, and no one was going to tell you why. Why you were so hated by the whole country, by every single person in your motherland? Why your mother turned away from you? Why you were considered to be dangerous?

But the more you grew, the more you understood that it is for the better. Their hatred, their suspicion, their rage. It made you the independent person. The predator.

And you were fine with that.

At some point, you stopped caring about what all of them thought. Instead, it filled you with even more power to move forward.

And so you survived. Proudly, with chin up to the sky, ignoring the way others treated you.

Savannaclaw wasn't necessarily bad, though. You thought it will be; Farena Kingscholar never being kind to you, and his kingdom therefore, too. But Savannaclaw was different. There, your only king was Leona. And Leona didn't care whose descendant you were.

If anything, he never even took it seriously.

”Why the fuck I would care about that cursed king?” He spitted it out once, as Ruggie asked him in what he thought was a whisper, as you passed by. ”Stupid lion is dead for a long time. Why would she care about him, even?”

And that was it. Savannaclaw never acted like you were enemy, no one glared at you with participation, no one was suspicious about your every single world.

You were free.

And the freedom you had gained, finally, made your loyalty to Leona stronger.

So, you didn't really like, when someone offended him.

It was your job to annoy him, to try break his trust towards you by cynical remarks—”oh, my King, you shouldn't trust me with your nephew. What if I tear him apart?” or ”Tsh, tsh, little lion... Haven't your brother told you? You shouldn't really turn your back to the hungry animal,”—even if he never cared.

And if someone tried to steal your job... Well, that would be really-really bad.

”Remind me once again,” you yawned, throwing a grape in your mouth, ”why I am not allowed to fight that Pomfiore boy for you?”

Azul chuckled.

”You got almost expelled twice, tigerfish. I am flatted that you are willing to try it for me, too, but I have more interesting ways to get my revenge.”

Azul was probably the strangest friend you ever had—and you had the only one, who was Jack—but it wasn't necessarily bad. He always got you involved in his plans, and as both of you were thinking about this or that in complete solitude, scheming and laughing, you thought it actually was nice.

”I caught him applying foundation on his face a week ago,” you share with him quietly. ”On the whole face. And let me say, he is not that perfect without it, Zul.”

He gasped dramatically.

”And that after interview, where he says he hates unnatural beauty?!”

”Mhm.”

”Tigerfish, you are so cruel,” he smiled. ”I love it.”

”Sure you are,” your ears moved by itself and you turned your head on the right. ”Do you hear that?”

Voices. Very loud, very angry voices. Usually, you would ignore that, but it was a familiar scent that made you move forward, ignoring Azul's question.

”Are you fucking insane, Hunt?”

”Oi, oi, I only cared to see if you would react immediately!”

You groaned.

Fucking Pomfiore kids.

As you stepped closer, your annoyed expression shifted to a worried one. There was a crossbow in Rook's arms, and Leona was holding an arrow is his hand, face angry.

So, it was it: little hunter tried to hunt Leona down.

Before he acknowledged your presence, you moved forward, raising Rook by his collar, right from behind.

”Don't get frightened, little one,” you said, voice, despite a smirk, vicious. ”I only cared to see if you would react immediately.”

Leona scoffed.

”Aha, how nice! Jolie Lionne! Had you came to save your pretty prince from the trouble?”

You frowned.

”He is the king, hunter.” Your turned him to face you properly, still leaving him hanging in the air. ”Listen to me, sweet human, the next time I see you trying to shoot him, I will scratch your eyes with my claws, and eat them in front of your fake housewarden. And then, I am going to make a feast. Do you hear me?”

His face scrunched for a second, but he put his usual smile on the face rather quickly.

”My, my... We were merely playing! But, fine, fine. As you wish, jolie lionne!”

You freed him, and this time he was rather quick with leaving.

Other students shun you actively, so it wasn't surprising. Beyond Savannaclaw, Azul, and, well, Lillia Van Rouge, other either ignored your existence or avoided you in fear. You had one the hell of the reputation, and your own attitude never helped to fix the damage that rumours left on you.

”I didn't ask you to do that,” Leona clicked his tongue, moving to your right side.

”You never do,” you shrugged. ”I don't really care.”

Maybe it was the fact that you never denied his power, never looked down at him, that helped him to make a peace with the fact that you were so eager to protect him. Because, well, in the beginning, he thought it was offensive.

”You are so fucking strange that, do you know that?” You repeated your previous action, and he continued. ”If I were you, I would love to kill me. And my brother. Especially him. But you keep doing that. Keep guarding me like a lapdog. Why?”

Why?

You wondered about it too, once. But the answer came easily to you.

It was a boy with unusual scar on his young face that stared at you without hatred the first. Simply stared, without any particular emotion, and handed you a little red flower, before leaving.

And though, he probably didn't remember it...

It was still him, who looked at you without despise in his eyes, when both of you grew up, meeting here and there, as your presence should have been always controlled and seen by the royal family.

And it was him, who made Savannaclaw respect you, as he joined this school, a year later than you did.

It was always him.

”Having trouble with creating another lie?” He smirked, moving to stop in front of you, clearly disliking the fact that you ignore his presence.

”You want to know why, Leona?” You tilted your head, meeting his curious eyes. "Because I consider you to be the King, more than your brother ever will, and therefore, I should protect you.”

Before he opened his mouth, you caught him by the chin, moving him closer. He stared at you, not annoyed, but quite lost by this action. Your eyes shimmered with a familiar hunger that always lived inside you.

A hunger for fame. Acceptance. Peace. Blood. Cruelty.

Love.

”And because,” your lips brushed the corner of his, as you breathed out on his cheek, ”if anyone ever tries to rip out your golden heart, my King, it is going to be me.”

His lips curled in a same wicked smile that played on your face.

And as his arms fall on your hips, he accepted the game.

”What a coincidence,” his whisper came out like a purr. ”Because if ever try to rip our my heart, my dear Consort, I will allow it to you.”

A laugh that escaped your chest sounded so taunted that others would find it scary.

But you know Leona didn't. In fact, he enjoyed it very much.

And both of you had a very long journey to find out what else you enjoy about each other. Gladly, you had plenty of time for that.

#leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst leona

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cator99 · 18 days

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Last year around this time I was in Chicago trying to buy shrooms off some underweight white dreads boy at addison station after trying to go to some "sapphic night" at a bar only to pull up and be told that tickets were $30 absolutely not happening I went back to my old time fav Charlie's but it was lowkey a flop wasn't feeling it at all crowd was boring as fuck not a single latino offered me coke which was how I knew it was an off night so I went back to the train. Omw back I hung out with a bunch of black dudes who were sitting on fold out lawn chairs out the back of a suv celebrating one of the dudes nephews graduating top of his class and getting a university scholarship and little dude was gay so they wanted to show their support but like since he was too young to go into the gay clubs they decided to just hang around in boystown getting wasted together and that was really fun those dudes were dope but by the time I got back to addison i was like um i came out here tonight looking 4 shrooms and will be disappointed to go back empty handed so when I saw the opportunity I took it but this white dreads californian refugee was acting wack from the start despite the fact that he also clearly was prepared to sell to me--- he started sayin I looked like a cop (normie hair, all black fit, shoes that are far too reasonable and would in hindsight be considered cop shoes to the average drifter from the west coast unaccustomed to the east coast way of life (yes I was wearing hokas), mostly sober, suspiciously in shape for someone trying to buy drugs from strangers)- I remember exactly what he said: "if you're a cop I will kill myself- no joke, straight up, I will kill myself." By the time I took out my flip phone to get his number... it was all over for me. Absolutely not happening. Please– I pleaded– I'm Canadian! "What, they don't have smartphones in Canada?" Dude I feel like cops have the budget to get normal burner phones for stings... I don't! I just want shrooms! Also worth mentioning is that there was some sort of annoying-type lesbian that had just left the sapphic party Very Disappointed By The Vibe who had been trying to hit on me prior to my asking that dude if he knows where to get shrooms since he asked to bum a smoke first and sure from her perspective I'm sure she felt as though we had been hitting it off but I'm just a friendly person and when I quickly diverted my attention away to ask some bum for drugs... she scoffed, full on scoffed. Proceeded to make a whole thing about backing away slowly and saying "I'm going to go waaayyy over here now! Good! BYE!" You're wearing cut off overalls. A tie dyed crop top. A choker. You're going back to your parents place in Evanston. I do not want to continue our conversation all the way up the red line til I get off at morse, I will kill myself- no joke, straight up, I will kill myself.

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slowandsteddie · 10 months

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Hi!

Since you’re asking for fic ideas, how about Claudia Henderson taking Steve in when he’s younger? She knows Wayne Munson got custody of his nephew the year before, so she asks him for advice helping Steve adjust.

Maybe Steve and Eddie getting to be close friends? Bonus points for little brother Dustin!

Thank you so much for the request! I love it and have been thinking about it nonstop.

CW: mentions of divorce, previous child neglect/abuse, C-PTSD, mention of minor character death (murder), swearing

I’m not sure what happened here exactly. I just know that I like it.

1953 words.

Claudia Henderson had always wanted two boys, a fact that almost everyone in Hawkins knew about. So, it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her that Jim Hopper was standing on her doorstep. He was holding his hat in front of him and the look on his face proved that he knew he was probably going to ask too much. Again.

“How can I help you, Chief?” She asked as though she couldn’t see Steve Harrington sitting in Hop’s car and looking straight ahead.

He cleared his throat. “I need to watch over the kid for a few days. Maybe a week while we try to get ahold of some relatives.”

Jim never was one to beat around the bush, but neither was Claudia. “Why?”

“His father is… going away for a while.” He seemed uncomfortable.

“Why?” She repeated, subconsciously crossing her arms when she had to press for more answers. He came to her for a favor, she had every reason to demand answers.

“He killed his wife and the kid has nowhere else to go in the meantime. I don’t want to have to hold him in a cell just because we don’t have a child services division in this small town.”

“Sorry we aren’t New York, Chief.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. That poor kid. Did he see what happened? Was she going to have to take him into the station to answer questions in the morning? “Does he have anything with him?”

“Just some clothes. He didn’t really want anything out of that house.”

She sighed again at that. “Bring him, then.”

Tomorrow, she was going to see if he wanted to go to the store and get anything. Probably best to keep him busy if he was willing. Besides, she needed to take Dustin to go pick out a new coloring book anyway.

Claudia looked out through the darkness and gave herself a moment to mourn, though not to cry. Steve’s mother had been her friend, even if they had drifted apart after Claudia’s divorce had gone through. Tonight couldn’t be about her. Not when her best friend’s son needed someone to take care of him.

“Thank you, Ms Henderson,” Hop said as he passed the backpack over to her and Steve stood on her doorstep.

He was so skinny. And was that bruising or shadows on his tiny face? That was a question she’d leave for the morning. Right now, he looked like he was about to collapse.

“I’m not doing it for you,” she replied before kneeling down to Steve’s level.

Hop took the opportunity to leave. The young male looked to him the same way a terrified boy would look for his father and Claudia made a note to reprimand the police chief later.

“Hi, Steve. I know this isn’t your home, but I want you to be comfortable here. Do you want to stay in the spare room tonight, or my room?”

He looked at her, wide eyed, as if she had a second head. “I get to choose?” He asked so softly and it broke her heart.

“You always have a choice here, Steve. As long as you stay safe and don’t hurt anyone.”

He chewed his lip and winced. It made Claudia lean more towards bruises than shadows, but it was hard to tell in the lighting and she wasn’t going to push. He had been through a lot.

“Spare room please,” Steve eventually decided.

Claudia made sure to show him where the kitchen and the bathroom were in case he needed anything. She also pointed out her own room being right across the hall before opening the door to the spare room for him. She did her best to make sure that he was as settled and comfortable as he was going to be under the circumstances. She stood in the door frame for a few seconds, holding on to it gently. She didn’t want to leave him, but he had requested to be alone.

“Anything you need, Steve. Just let me know. And Dustin might pester you in the morning if he wakes up before I do.”

“Okay,” he said simply.

Claudia went back to bed, leaving her door open. She really was going to have to call Wayne in the morning.

If Steve snuck into her room and laid on the floor beside her bed, she pretended not to notice.

—

“Wayne?” She was speaking a little lower than normal, but she did have two sleeping boys in her house and she was doing her best to keep it that way. “How did you help Eddie cope when he had to move in with you?”

“Why are you asking Claudia?” His voice was rough, but she knew him well enough to know that it was because he was tired.

“Have you heard about what happened at the Harrington’s yet?”

“You mean the murder?”

“I have Steve. Hop brought him to me last night,” she said in a rush before looking down the hall to make sure neither boy was going to sneak in on this conversation.

“Just make sure he feels safe and knows that things are going to happen at his speed, as much as possible. Have your limits and stick to them. Don’t let him push you over just because you know the hell he’s been through. And most important? Don’t try and be his Mama unless he asks you to.”

“Don’t have to worry about that last one. Hop said it should hopefully only be a week until they find some family willing to take him.” There was a tiny sniffle behind her. “Shit, Wayne. I gotta go. I’ll call you back tonight.”

When Claudia turned around, Steve was already disappearing back into the spare bedroom. The door closed with a soft click.

Shit.

“Mom, what’s for breakfast?” Dustin demanded as he walked out of his room and straight to the kitchen.

She’d check in on Steve soon. He probably needed a minute anyway.

“Pancakes sound good to you, Dusty?”

His toothless grin made her heart hurt.

How could anyone look at their child and feel anything but love?

—

It had been a few months and it seemed like Steve was staying. No one wanted to step up and take Steve. Honestly? Claudia wasn’t heartbroken about it. The longer he stayed, the more she loved him. She wasn’t fully convinced that she would let anyone take him away from her at this point. She wasn’t sure when she started looking at Steve as a son exactly, just that it happened quickly. Even Dustin, spoiled as he was, was excited to have an older kid in the house to hang out with. He said it made him seem cool to his friends that he suddenly found himself spending a lot more time with a Harrington. Whatever that meant.

She was just happy they were getting along. Happy that Steve was getting more comfortable with them. He was back up to a healthy weight, all the bruises were gone, and his injuries had turned to faded scars. Steve was safe. Most importantly, he was happy and loved. Claudia tried to not let it get to her that those were new feelings for the boy who previously only knew neglect or abuse at the hands of his biological parents.

—

Claudia woke up in the middle of the night, her heart pounding. What was that? A second thud had her throwing her covers back and running to the kitchen. The sight that greeted her would have made her laugh if Steve didn’t look so terrified.

Both boys were covered in flour. Honestly, the fact that most of the kitchen also had at least a thin dusting of the stuff was kind of impressive.

“What’s happening in here?” She asked with a smile.

Steve flinched and she tried to not let it get to her. He had to know by now that she would never hurt him, but the past doesn’t just go away like that.

“We were trying to make you a cake, but you put the flour too high and Steve wasn’t going to crawl on the counter. So I had to do it.” Dustin supplied after looking at the older kid and realizing that he wasn’t going to talk.

It happened a lot, Steve suddenly not talking. He also tended to leave the room a lot and hide in what had become his room. At least he felt safe enough to walk away now. He wasn’t walking away this time.

“It’s your birthday,” Steve said so softly. “It’s your birthday and you deserve a cake. I never got a cake.” His words got quieter as he kept talking, the last part of what he said barely audible.

“Oh, Steve,” Claudia’s heart was breaking. Shattering, really. “That’s really thoughtful of you, sweetheart. How about this? We clean up this mess and try again together? Yeah? Then I’ll move some stuff around so you can reach all the food in this kitchen.”

His eyes were shiny with unshed tears as the fear on his face gave way to a shy smile. “Okay,” he said simply.

And that was that.

—

Claudia was flustered.

She had been talking to Wayne a lot lately because he could relate to what she was going through. Taking in a kid who had nowhere else to go.

Somehow, that translated into them going out for dinner or lunch a few times to talk in person. To complain about the hardships and brag about the worthy things respectively.

That turned into her actually asking him on a date. Even more surprisingly, he agreed! Even though she knew he wouldn’t care, she was dressed in her absolute best and even took the time to tame her wild hair.

When there was a knock on the door, she was quick to answer it before Steve or Dustin had a chance. What she saw took her breath away. Wayne had put an effort in as well, and he was even holding a bouquet of flowers. Her cheeks heated and she smiled widely.

“They’re beautiful,” she breathed.

“You’re beautiful,” Wayne replied.

“Come in, come in,” she insisted as she stepped out of the way. When she saw Eddie, she smiled at him as well. “Thank you for agreeing to babysit my kiddos for me.”

Eddie grinned. “Uncle Wayne said he’d get me an Iron Maiden cassette.” Then he was running off to Dustin’s room, following the sound of laughter.

Claudia laughed softly before returning her attention to Wayne.

He shrugged. “Flattery and bribery get you everywhere with that boy,” he joked before going to grab a vase to put the flowers in.

Obviously he had been around the house a few times and paid attention to where she put things. Briefly, Claudia pictured Wayne and Eddie moving in - in the future.

It wasn’t a bad thought.

—

When they got back, Claudia was greeted by an adorable sight. Dustin was asleep, spread across the couch. Eddie and Steve were cuddled up in the recliner. Of course Dustin would claim the couch for himself and make two people share the smaller seat.

“Let’s not wake them just yet,” she said softly after a moment. “I’ve never seen Steve look so relaxed.”

Wayne had no objections. “Let’s put a note on the coffee table and then head to the backyard?”

Claudia had no objections, either. She scrawled out something on a piece of paper that was on the table already before leading the way outside. They sat on the outside loveseat, their knees touching.

Everyone was going to be spending a lot more time together. She just knew it.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie fanfiction #claudia henderson #wayne munson #dustin henderson #Claudia Henderson is an amazing mom #I take requests #requested fic #pre steddie #early Steddie #slowandsteddie

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lovelykhaleesiii · 11 months

Note

My lovely Hel!!! Please, if you could.

Aemond and Aegon taking turns with reader and face fucking her? All the degradation and praise please? (Daddy kink what) And wonderful aftercare! Any other kinks is up to you!!!

beans your request is my command, this is everything & more….. oh to be face fucked by this duo, lord have mercy.

hope this was everything you dreamt of and more ✨

Exceptions.

PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

WORDS: 2,280.

WARNINGS: NSFW, degradation kink, praise kink, mentions of innocence kink, female receiving (fingering), p in v sexual intercourse, male oral receiving, Daddy kink, slight mentions of breeding / lactation kink.

A/N - OKAY so I attempted to do a contrast between the brothers regarding their treatment towards the reader. hope I did it justice :) NO PLOT JUST S*X !!! Did I put my whole helussy into this? maybe…

How they found you hidden away in the solace of the castle's library, your nose buried in between the ancient pages of a book, you could not say for certain. Although, it was a keen skill of theirs, and you knew those guarding and tending to the castle grounds spoke, especially when questioned by the royal inhabitants, probing for your whereabouts, they'd have the answer in a split second.

Your elder Uncles cherished you since your youth, something about the way you looked at them, spoke to them, touched them, even if it was as innocent as gripping their arm, drove them far beyond the hatred they had for their Strong nephews... Your half-brothers. Having grown into the mature, young woman that you were, Aemond often dotting you as "ethereal", the maesters had highly proclaimed as a true Targaryen beauty. Nonetheless, many noble and highborn lords of the realm sought for your hand, yet you remained indignant in refusing to engage, for your heart was set elsewhere, closer to home.

Aemond and Aegon also made no effort to hide their infatuation with you. Especially Aegon, refusing to engage in small talk or relations with maidens his grandsire would arrange, as means to provoke an heir from him, Aegon was solely fixated on you. The proposition of Aegon marrying Helaena, was shut down immediately by the Prince himself, for he'd rather set himself aflame than take his sister to bed.

Nonetheless, the family grew aware of his deep admiration for you, and felt defeated in retaliating against it any further. Whispers of a betrothal between yourself and your eldest Uncle were in the midst. And although your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, much preferred Aemond as a suitor, as you both were far closer in age and Aemond having less arduous tendencies, she was agreeable to the arrangement if it meant a form of peace-keeping between herself and the Dowager Queen.

Although, from time to time, you'd confide in her how Aegon the First, took two wives... Would it be so terrible for you, to take two husbands in the ancient traditions of your House?

Regardless, amongst the three of you, you had your own little plots and ploys at hand. If Aegon secured this marriage with you, he'd made the promise that his younger brother too, would take part, even if it was concealed in secrecy. You loved them both incomparably, and they had accepted this respectfully. For you, they would travel to the ends of the Earth for, kill for and bleed for... No one else came close.

You were always the exception for them.

****

"Here she is brother. Too preoccupied for us it seems-" Aegon utters. Slowly he strides towards you, plopping himself down by your side on the lounge, as he plants a soft peck at your cheek, before fiddling and flicking the pages of a smaller, overused book at the table side.

Aemond, tediously following behind remains quiet and unfazed, as he too follows his elder brother's gesture: planting a soft, longer-lasting kiss at your other cheek, before seating himself on the arm rest of your chair.

"You two have been in meetings since the mane, I thought I'd keep myself tucked and busy as I waited for you both."

"My sweet thing-" Aegon steadily arises as he plants a tender kiss atop your head.

"Have you missed us?" He utters, plopping himself back down, one hand embracing your from behind, the other free one begins to hike your dress up, high enough for his hand to sneak in between your thighs. Pulling aside your cotton undergarments, his fingers creep inside, now lightly grazing over the bare, sensitive skin of your cunt.

"Hmm, yes."

"How much?" Aemond sternly interjects, subtly biting at his lower lip, as he watches his elder brother teasing you.

"V-Very much."

Aegon's thick fingers slowly began to etch between your thighs, motioning in small circles, as your wetness began to naturally stir.

"How much is 'very much', dear niece? Do not be shy now. Tell your Uncles, exactly what you desire, and we shall see to it that your needs are met," Aemond firmly pressed, kneeling down on the ground, as he lifts your leg, planting a trail of small, tender kisses from the shin working his way up.

"I-I want y-you both... Inside me," Stuttering your words, only just above the volume of a whisper, Aegon's digits now deeply immersed inside your folds, churning in larger, sensual circular motions, as his longer index rubs at your clit. Helpless moans escaping your mouth, as Aegon buries his head against the crook of your neck, his plump, wet lips latched at your soft skin, harshly suckling at it.

Aemond remains below, now feeling the sharpness of his canines faintly biting at the flesh of your inner thighs.

"Hear that brother- Spoiled, little girl wants to be full of us both. Such a pampered babe, wants to be coddled and fucked stupid by her Uncles."

"And we shall-" Aegon utters, momentarily breaking free from your skin, as he responds to his brother's despotic words.

"On the floor now, Y/N," Aegon growls, as he stops his lustful pursuits, hastily removing his eager hand from below, causing your breath to hitch suddenly, as you firmly grip his forearm instinctively. Once you regained your senses, Aemond aided your descent to the carpeted, stony floor. Aegon begins to lay down a few silk, plush pillows from the lounge, behind you, as he too follows your steps.

"On all fours, brat," Aemond spits, as he props himself on his knees, his rough hand entwined in the free, loose strands of your hair, guiding your head towards him. Your face, now, just a few, mere inches apart from his cock, beneath his pants. You could sense Aegon behind, his hands firmly grasping at your waists, as he aligns himself with you. One hand finding its way between your legs, pushing at the sides of your inner thighs, as he urges them to spread.

"Wider baby, you know I need more space- That's it-"

In sync, your Uncles begin to hastily undo their trousers, watching Aemond unbutton his with a smug appearance on his chiselled face, and hearing Aegon groan in relief from behind.

Aemond's lean, stiff cock, sprung before you, the veins and its natural hue evident, as his tip flushed red with colour, glistening with a white, cloudy film oozing from the tip.

From behind, Aegon once again, hiked your dress up, folding it on your back, as he ripped apart your undergarments completely with his bare hands. You knew he was desperately eager now. Shuffling himself more forward, shoving himself between your thighs, closer to your frame, you could feel his thick, fat cock rigid against your soft ass cheeks. Taunting you with his girthy size and unyielding posture, his hands gripped firmly at your waist once more, pulling your backside deeper to his dense mass.

"If only you could see brother. Just how avid she is for our cocks. She cannot even bring herself to look me in the eye, though rather my cock."

"Do not jest with her, brother. She has waited long enough, and we too have been kept from her. My poor Princess-"

One hand still gripped on your waist, Aegon sets the other one loose, as it wanders over to your naked ass cheek, kneading at your flesh, before giving it a quick, sharp slap. Positioning his stiff cock to entrance, Aegon spares no second to thrust himself in, earning a moaning plea, as the intense pain of your walls stretching out beyond comfort, desperate to accomodate for his substantial mass.

In doing so, as your mouth shapes blatantly open, Aemond seizes the grand opportunity to shove his into your mouth. His hand remaining tightly entangled in your strands, tugging to pull your face towards him.

Gleaming down towards you with a complacent smirk strewed across his face. His one remaining, good eye, lurks down intently upon you, as he begins to sway himself slowly, backwards and forwards, his eye flutters in conjunction to the unfathomable sensation.

"Th-That's it, my petty, little brat. Show me how well that spoiled mouth of yours can treat me, show me how well you think you deserve my cock."

Hot tears began to swell in your eyes, although from the glorious pain and fulfilment you felt in that precise moment. Aegon's growling grunts, your mouthful gags and Aemond's deep moans, ricocheted across the walls of the ancient library, like an orchestral symphony.

May the Gods be good, that no one dares to venture in your vicinities.

Aemond's lean, long cock, shoved its way deeper, as your soft, wet lips stroked againsts its circumference in rhythmic motions, sensing the urge of the hard tip at the back of your throat. His hot wetness began to pool, coating your insides, as he roughly jammed himself in.

"F-Fuck, that feels so good, Y/N."

Simultaneously, Aegon's thrusts, although not as synchronised and steady as Aemond's, began to grow sloppier and faster, as he plunged himself partially in and out, forcing himself back in. The friction brewing between your inner thighs, lessened as your natural wetness began to ooze from the gaps of your clenching entrance.

"Poor Princess, so needy for my cock. I can just feel you tightening for me, baby. Is that how bad you wanted your Daddies, huh? Needed your Daddy's fat cock inside to comfort you, hmm?" Aegon breathlessly exclaimed: the vulgarity as he confidently spat the term 'Daddy' out, provoking you to quench tighter around his throbbing, hard cock, earning a mindless, low moan from him.

"Fuck Y/N!" Aegon roared, raking another piercing slap against your bare ass. Sensing from the sweat and heat of your flesh that your sensitive skin was marked with a reddening handprint, mimicking that identical of Aegon's palm.

"Insolent, weak Princess. Crying from how full and weak she is, Seven Hells. Aren't you a pathetic, little thing, struggling to take her Daddy's cock front and back, huh?"

Aemond immediately wretched his cock free from your mouth, as he tugged at your head once more, pulling it back before leaning down towards you. Faces an inch apart, his hungry eye lusts over your wet, soiled lips with his pre-cum, inadvertently he licks his own lips, before succumbing to a passionate yet short-lasting kiss.

"Tell me, brat. Can you take much more?"

"Y-Yes, Daddy-" You weakly whimpered and sputtered, gasping from deep, full breaths as you impatiently sought for fuller consciousness.

"What was that, whore? Have we not given you enough yet? You hear that, Aegon? Keep at it. The whore is not yet satisfied."

"I-Is that so? My innocent babe will reap her desires, j-just as she deserves." Aegon menacingly growled, his grip firmer than before on your waist, you felt your skin growing numb beneath.

"Lets finish her-"

As Aemond spoke his final words, taking one final, crisp breath in, he shoved his cock back into your mouth, its lengthy size and rapid thrusts, rewarded with muffled moans echoing from your mouth watering lips.

"That'll shut up the bratty whore."

The aches of your arched, lower back grew sorer, a dull pain brewing as the weight of Aegon's mass leaning over from behind, and having been stationed in that exact position for a solid period of time, began to take its toll. Although, just as your desires had been fulfilled, you felt yourself reaching a climax from below, just as Aegon's cock grew tenser inside, the throbbing sensations of his cock was blinding. Your eyes rapidly flickering shut, all your senses incoherent and stunned beyond awareness.

"I'm gonna cum, baby, I'm gonna cum- Fill you up with my hot seed, you might just take. And then what? Ugh- To see you swell with my babe, for being such a good girl-"

"Do it, brother. May her tits also swell with the Mother's, sweet milk, that she may bless us with her treat."

The grunts and groans your Uncles ravenously exchanged, was once more, a melody to your blessed ears.

"Then we shall see to it. Cease every opportunity to fuck her senseless, until her cunt is drowning in our seed, until she takes. That belly will grow healthily with a royal heir," Aemond breathlessly proclaims, before releasing a deep groan, as his hot load shoots against your uvula. Coating your mouth to the brimful, before slowly pulling his twitching cock out.

In sync to his younger, the rigid and pulsing tensity of Aegon's cock begins to dissipate as he instantly releases his hot cum inside. Pooling all over your delicate walls, some naturally streaming out, as he cautiously removes himself from your tight hold.

"That's it, baby. You did such a good job," Aegon softly coos, as he massages small circles against the lower part of your back, where your hand momentarily was tending to the soreness.

"Lay down, sweetling-" Aemond lowly interrupts, guiding your tiresome, weary body to lay. Your head gently rests on Aegon's clothed thigh, as his hand begins to soothe through your mottled hair, brushing the messy strands away, tending to the mess his brother invoked.

"Now we rest for a short while, Princess. Regain your strength and us, ours, till the next lot of fun and pleasure-" Aemond slyly murmurs, as his fingers softly trace random trails across your back, just as he knows you enjoy.

"Mayhaps we'll move this to the bedroom, dear brother. I shall carry her back, and you can see to it, fetch for the servants to bring up some replenishments. And then, can we resume this deed, once and for all."

general taglist - @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @rafesbarbiegirl @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

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lilhwahwa · 2 years

Text

heart swindler - J.WY (Part 1)

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

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.

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, thought 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”

thank you for reading. i haven't written for ages and had this idea for the longest of times. i hope you are here on my writing journey and see me evolve but also have fun reading this word. all feedback is welcome because i want to improve as best as i can. are you looking forward to part 2?

#wooyoung x reader #ateez reactions #ateez fic #wooyoung #ateez imagines #enemies to lovers #kpop fic #ateez imagine #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #kpop imagines #ateez reaction

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soldier-lodbrok · 2 months

Note

Ok, so what’s your opinion on Glenn and little Seph’s relationship? I know you drew the hug scene and it was so cute!! Do you see them as brother-types, dad/adopted son, it’s complicated, or maybe something else? I’d love to hear! :p

Aw, that's a good question!

I see them more as brotherly or uncle-nephew relationship.

Glenn himself is only about 18-22 years old himself at the time of that mission, and even though I lean towards the older age of that range for him personally, that is just about 7-8 years older than little Sephiroth. It's obvious from Glenn's behaviour he isn't the most mature. He also constantly teases Sephiroth in a friendly but relentless manner. The little guy can't catch a break with Glenn, if he can find an opportunity to tease him. Like when Sephiroth opens up about the locket and picture of his mother and admits he knows it "isn't cool to ask" about his mom, Glenn reacts with laughter and "As long as you know!". Pulling his leg even in such a vulnerable moment.

Nonetheless, even Lucia in the game calls Glenn out on him having his "paternal instinct" woken up. It is in reference to Rosen, but Glenn shows equal concern towards both boys. I like how it is often when Rosen or Sephiroth are specifically not around that Glenn is openly wondering how they are doing or whether they need help. He once complains that Sephiroth simply won't "let" him help.

After getting over the initial anger, he really does care for Sephiroth and is quite protective and extremely understanding. When Sephiroth kills ALL Rhadorans he can find? Even the kids his own age? And says its justified because they knew how to fight, too... I can see usually many would have a horrified reaction to that. Especially with Sephiroth declaring he has been taught to kill or be killed.

Glenn seems shocked, too. But that is also the moment he hugs Sephiroth. Providing him with a grounding point and trying to guide him to more empathy. Softly. He doesn't scream, insult, scold or ridicule Sephiroth for his deed. He doesn't even mention it. he just realizes the fastest that Sephiroth was abused in all the wrong ways in his 'training' and he wants to help that kid.

Also the very opening scene? Where the flashback quickly changes to Glenn threatening to kick Matt's ass? That means he also used those words towards OLDER Sephiroth after already using them on young Sephiroth. A man who can stand in front of Sephiroth, the greatest SOLDIER of all time, who just killed several Behemoth's and seems distressed, about to attack - and Glenn seems to have taken that all for banter and then comes out with the raised fist and "I'll kick your ass!"-threat. That's peak older brother/uncle behaviour. And I think it's quite unique behaviour towards Sephiroth, I can't remember Angeal or Genesis being like this, they were more equals and serious... but me playing CC was years ago, so I might misremember.

I wish we get to see more of that all soon! Thank you so much for asking! I rambled a little there :D

#.ooc #glenn lodbrok #Sephiroth #.headcanon #ofc my own interpretations #so it's nothing set in stone! just my two cents :D

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misch1efmanaged · 3 months

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

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

words: 7.8K

PART 2

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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.

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”

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

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.

“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…