#money heist fics
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otrtbs · 1 year ago
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Okay Y'all
It has come to my attention that someone is selling copies of Art Heist, Baby! on Etsy this evening. If you've been here for a little while then you'll remember something similar happening to me on Amazon. This seller on Etsy is also selling copies of several other fanfics. Once again, this is not me, I do not condone this, I didn't give my consent for this, and I am frustrated beyond belief.
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I am taking measures to contact the seller and to get the Etsy listing taken down. (feeling super disheartened abt the people who have this fic in their basket rn icl. DO NOT pay (esp this ungodly amount) for fanfics you can read for free online. and don't profit off of fanfiction.)
I do feel like every time something like this happens, I run to tumblr, make a post, and make something like this everyone else's problem. And I want to apologize for that and say that this is in no way y'alls issue (unless you are the one selling fanfiction and/or buying it). It is my fanfic, my issue, and I am handling it (though, I always appreciate each and every single one of you going out of your way to help more than you could possibly know). However, I am making this post to let everyone know that
I am no longer allowing people to make physical copies of my fanfiction.
People have used my acceptance of hand binding my fic for personal use and abused it to sell my fic and mass-produce it. Not cool. So I would like to say I am no longer allowing physical copies of my fics to be made. I don't know if that will fix or change anything and I am extremely doubtful that the people who are the issue will even listen to or care about what I wish since they've already disregarded that but I really don't know what else to do at the moment. I am hoping this issue will get resolved shortly! As always, Art Heist, Baby! is available to read online for free on ao3! (how cool is that?) Thanks for reading and hearing me out. Sorry again about another post like this but it's always fucking something with this fandom and I just don't ever know what else to do.
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depressopax · 1 year ago
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HII could you maybe write something for Berlin like HCs being in a relationship with him, maybe with connections to the new show or sm.
(Im actually so glad I found someone who writes for this fandom bc there’s literally no one nearly 😭)
Berlin - Relationship headcanons
Thank you for the request!! <3 I'm happy to see more LCDP fans here omg 😭 Hope ya like it! :)
Smut version can be found here
Pairing: Berlin/Andrés de Fonollosa x gn!reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): Spoilers for LCDP. Cuss words, Berlin being a bit possessive, reader uses they/them pronouns Words: 1145 Summary: Being in a relationship with Berlin would include…  English is not my first language - lmk if there's any spelling mistakes so I can improve my writing! &lt;3
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Being in a relationship with this man would be a roller-coaster of emotions…
But you can’t really complain!
People see him as “cold and self-centered”, which is partially true.
BUT when he’s in love, it’s like his whole personality changes.
You are his whole world, and he will do everything to put his ego aside, and show you just how loving he can be.
And boy, he succeeds… 
When he first saw you, it was love at first sight, or at least for him.
He would find out everything about you, what you like to eat, what hobbies you have, and the places you like to be at.
He would just wait for you to approach him first, but it wasn’t that easy…
After a while, he stopped being stubborn and started talking to you.
Berlin would make sure you fall for him, and that would be his biggest goal.
He would take you on extraordinary dates and totally spoil you.
He prefers calm private dates, but wouldn’t mind going to a bar/nightclub if you like that.
Despite his sophisticated looks, he knows how to party. (That one scene in Berlin when he’s at the punk club LMAOO)
Seeing you hyped up makes him happy, so how can he not love partying with you?
The two of you having lazy mornings together. Berlin is a night owl, and getting him out of bed in the morning is a challenge.
He’ll also never let you leave bed. - “Just 5 more minutes, love! - “Are you gonna leave me, all cold and lonely in bed, huh?”
Berlin wouldn’t give up his flirting until you fall in love with him. 
Once that happens - he won’t shut up about you
Like, EVER.
He would drive Sergio and his other friends insane with how much he talks about you, telling them a bit too much about his love life… 
Berlin is the cheesiest guy you’ll ever meet, tbh.
And he takes that as a compliment.
He would write you love letters, send good-morning AND goodnight messages to you, and bring you flowers every now and then. 
Berlin is a man with many talents, and he loves impressing you, especially with his singing
Cheesy as it sounds, he even sings you serenades to express his love and devotion.
You’d have to put up with his weird and impulsive ideas.
Whether it’s planning a spontaneous trip, a heist, etc…
He needs someone to tell him to calm the hell down lol
As seen in the show, Berlin is very passionate and a bit unpredictable.
Being in a relationship is no exception.
Everyday with him is like an adventure, and he knows how to spice things up to not end up like a “boring couple”. 
His goal would be making sure the honeymoon phase never ends. 
He would make sure to tell you how amazing and good-looking you are EVERYDAY. 
He is not afraid to argue with you, but would rather admit he is “wrong” rather than have you be mad at him for too long. 
He’s not always good at reading your emotions and knows what you’re feeling, but tries to. 
It breaks his heart to see you upset, and will try to make you feel better. 
He can be rather possessive too. If someone stares at you for a bit too long, or flirt with you, he’s not afraid to show them that “you are his”.
He’s extra protective of you when you are around his friends. He wants to make sure you feel safe, and also that no one tries hitting on you…
Especially if you are shy, he’d be very close to you, smile at you when you talk and laugh extra loud if you say something funny. 
He makes sure your friends like him. 
He wants to make a good impression on everyone, but especially when it is your friends and family. 
Big fan of PDA. He’s a man that is not afraid to kiss you in public, and he practically never lets go of your hand when you’re outdoors together. 
When cuddling, he prefers being the big spoon. 
One of Berlin’s love languages is touch.
He enjoys having his hand on your thigh, giving your shoulders soft massages, and forehead kisses. He’s the type of guy to kiss your hands, too.
If you have long hair, he tends to fidget with it, running his fingers through it, stroking it away from your face and even braiding it.
Berlin definitely treats you like a god/goddess. 
But the relationship would also be challenging from time to time.
Berlin being a criminal does bother you.
Your fear is for him to get caught and end up in jail.
He’d have to reassure you a lot that he won’t get caught, promising you that he will be fine.
But don’t worry, he makes sure to keep that promise. 
His pet names for you: (My) love, honey, babe… 
His phone is full with pictures of you and you’re definitely both his home- and lock-screen. 
He has lots of money, and spends them on you, whether you like it or not. 
Berlin enjoys luxury and wants to give you a luxurious life.
His dream is to travel and see the world with you by his side.
If you don’t speak Spanish, he would offer to teach it to you. 
He is very overprotective and makes sure you keep a distance from his work. 
But he does enjoy impressing you with dramatic stories about his heists.
During his most difficult and dangerous heists, he will think of you and keep on fighting so he can come back home to you. 
When he’s away for a longer time, Berlin makes sure to text and call you with regular updates. But in all honesty, he just misses your voice.
Like I said earlier, he is an unpredictable man, and if someone is mean to you, yikes… - “Just drop it, Andrés!” “No, babe… I’ll have a ‘chat’ with them…”
Remember the throwback scene of Berlin and the man that made fun of his bow tie? 
Let’s just say, whoever insulted you will return to you and apologize, trembling and crying from pain and fright.  
…Berlin would just return to you with a smug smile, pretending like nothing happened… 
And act all clueless when you confront him about it. 
With you, Berlin is soft and passionate, but others view him as your “scary boyfriend”, a title he accepts with pride. 
To summarize… Despite Berlin's cold exterior, he is the complete opposite with you. He has so much love to give, and isn’t scared to do so. He will make sure to worship you and make sure you feel loved. All he wants is to spend his time with you, and give you the passion, excitement and devotion you deserve. Being together with him is definitely not boring.
I have such hate-love relationship to Berlin bruh 😭 Andrés in Berlin >>>>>>> LCDP
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eatingoutmen · 2 months ago
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would you guys forgive me for me literally not being active for 5 days if i post something smutty and juicy with these sexy men?😚
(I saw an edit with both of them and thought “yeah, this is gonna go so well.” LMAO, Idk if i can do if it’s gonna be a thirst or drabble, but they will be separate!!)
Anyway here’s the edit if ya’ll were curious😙
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jalicefanficblog · 1 month ago
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A Family Money Heist Story please?
Because our favorite Thieves deserve a happy Ending :-)
Plan - Save the Choclate
AU - They are on a top secret robbery mission and only have 5 minutes before their afternoon nap ends and the adults will go back into the Villa. Cincinnati knew he had to act quickly and in most cases he could rely on his friends - but friendship stopped as they rached their goal - so why should they share a bar of chocolate?
"They are still in the garden - we have five minutes" - Cincinnati had been closely watching the behavior of his parents and other adults over the past few days.
They always went to the large garden of the villa , while the children were taking their afternoon nap and never entered the house during this time. So they would have about five minutes left , until their parents would come into the room to wake them.
"How long are five minutes?"
"Very short for adults - but long for us"
"CC said it we steal a great treasure"
The now six-year-old son from Denver and Mónica nodded in agreement and told the small group, that mostly of them listened attentively, as CC told them about to the large chocolate bar,  that his Dad had hidden in one of the kitchen cupboards.
What could be more delightful for a group of children,  than sneaking out of the room and stealing the candy shortly before the end of their afternoon nap?
"The adults talk a lot - they're laughing and - I think Auntie Ágata opened the bottle of wine , that Uncle Martín brought along  and ....." - before Madrid could finish her sentence, Sergio and Raquel's daughter was interrupted - by her own twin brother Edinburgh, who roughly stood next to his sister at the window and watched the behavior of the adults.
"... and Uncle Aníbal is playing football with Aunt Julia, Uncle Marseille and Aunt Silene", Edinburgh finished his sister's sentence.
"Just because Daddy always says you're smart, doesn't mean you have to say the names of all adults every time Ed", Madrid said, and the girl just shook her head.
"Daddy also says,  you are smart too Madrid - hey we can play football too later", Edinburgh grinned and before the twins could end up in a discussion again , that it was strange that Ed was addressing the other adults with their real names - a girl climbed out of her bed, joined the twins with a grin and put one hand on each shoulder from the twins.
"Do we want to continue talking about how boring the non-cool city names of our parents are , or should we sneak into the kitcheb, to get the chocolate?" - and so the girl with the long dark hair grabbed each of the twins' hands and pulled them with her.
"Thanks Ibizia - come on, together we can do it", laughed Cincinnati, thanking the daughter of Ágata for her eagerness.
It wasn't long before the other children were awake and standing next to Cincinnati, who quickly explained to them, what the plan was.
"Venice? You take the key from my daddy's jacket pocket. It should be on the chair where he sits - take Ed with you for",  Cincinnati said to the daughter of Silene and Aníbal.
The dark-haired girl only nodded tired and then left the room with Edinburgh.
"Ibizia and Madrid? You get a small stool from the bathroom, so we can climb on the cupboard",  - ordered Cincinnati and a little later the two girls had disappeared to bring the stool downstairs.
"Andalucía? You can't go back to sleep. We need you and Toledo to climb up to the space under the cupboard. You two are the smallest from all of us and fit better there" - said Cincinnati towards the little daughter of Andrés and then the son of Helsinki and Palermo .
Both looked a little sleepy, but followed the instructions and went out of the room.
"Malindi? You come with me, we have to make sure , that no adults comes into the kitchen",  - he addressed the little sister of Ibiza and gave her a sign to follow him.
When the children had finished their tasks, Cincinnati made his way to the basement of the villa and tried to get an overview of the situation. The adults could come back into the house at any moment - and then they would definitely eat the big bar of chocolate themselves. Nothing he want to risk.
***
With a satisfied smile, Nairobi looked at all the people around her, who had been like family to her since the successful heist on the National Bank of Spain.
The events and the escape from the police had made everyone grow closer together.
They all built their lives away from further raids or dangers and once a year , they all meet in the professor's villa to spend two weeks together as a family.
While Nairobi put some of the opened wine bottle into a glass, her eyes slid over to her husband Bogotà, who was sitting right next to her and gave her a kiss on her hair.
They had known each other during the robbery of the Bank of Spain in Madrid, after Nairobi was hit by a policeman with a bullet and injured by a trick from Alicia Sierra, she had survived through a tactically very good plan from the professor and after the gold was melted, everyone had made it out of the bank alive and the police had been in a lot of trouble for that.
The gang had been hailed as heroes and now lived the lifes they always dreamed of.
She had married Bogota three months after the heist and made her wish to be a mother again come true. Her little Ibiza was born healthy and Bogotà had devotedly looked after the baby from day one and to took care of her.  Nairobi remembered the moment when Ibiza said Papi to him and how brightly her husband's eyes were shining.
And Ibizia shouldn´t be an only child , because shortly after Ibiza's second birthday, her little sister was born - Malindi. Nairobi loved her two daughters so much and still decided to contact her son Axel by letter and email and the boy wanted to meet her. This time not surrounded by a lot police officers  - but in a neutral place - and Nairobi could hardly believe her luck.
"Did I mention that you just look beautiful in this red dress?" Her husband whispered to her and Nairobi gave him a loving kiss, before she took a sip from her wine glass and her eyes slid to the opposite side of the table - where Berlin was sitting,  elegantly dressed as always and again with a drawing pad in hand.
Back at their first heist, instead of Berlin and Ariadna, they had several hostages that shot at the police officers and so the professor's half-brother was released through the tunnel in just the right time and there was another good news for Berlin, because it there was a cure for his illness and so his life was saved - even if his friends had to drag him to the treatment.
His life had turned upside down, when he took in the daughter from one of his ex-wifes in, after she died. And since the first meeting between Berlin and Andalucía it changed happened the noble man and Nairobi could say without lying , that behind the arrogant and light narcissistic behavior , was a loving and caring father. And this is exactly what the almost 4 year old confirmed every time Nairobi saw the child.
Marseille and Manila had also become part of this crazy family and are playing football against the others. And none other than Rio just shot with the balll a goal for his team - which gave him not so nice gesture from Tokyo.
Nairobi knew , that Rio and Tokyo had their ups and downs , but their heart was in the right place and since her daughter Venice was born, it changed the couple's life, it also seemed their luck was perfect. Especially since as far as Nairobi had noticed,  little Venice was as explosive as her mother, if she wanted to.
A loud laugh made Nairobi look away from the soccer players and Denver came up towards the table, an arm around Stockholm  and the two looked, like they were freshly in love again.
Which was not so normal, because during the heist on the Bank of Spain,  there had been a lot of arguments between the two - a clarifying talk when everything was over and a few days' vacation from the child showed them again,  why they got married and loved each other deeply. Now everything was fine between the two and they could watch her little Cincinnati growing up.
When Helsinki asked her for the bottle of wine, Nairobi handed it over to her best friend and nodded to him and Palermo. The two had also found love and made a very cute couple.
It had taken the two men a little longer to adopt little Toledo, and they too seemed much happier and more balanced with a child. Although Palermo was not yet able to completely abandon his old habits - but it was on the right way.
The Professor and Lisbon stood not far from Stockholm and Denver. As always, the two of them had immersed themselves in a book and behaved like the adult part of the group.
But their love had also got stronger, after the successful rescue mission of the Lisbon, for who the Professor felt so much emotions for, and after Paula had become an integral part of the family, Sergio and Raquel had decided to get married and a while later the twins Madrid and Edinburgh were born.
Satisfied, Nairobi took another sip of her wine and just enjoyed the Moment. 
***
"CC didn't say the chair with the jacket is outside"
Venice pouted in front of the large open balcony door,  that would lead out onto the terrace.
No adults were sitting at the table where the jacket was, but it would be very risky , if she and Ed were about to go out there now.
One of the parents just had to look in their direction by accident and they would be discovered.
"You have to be quick and - see that your shadow is not visible", Edinburgh said only in an strict voice. Something he had from his father.
"I can be very fast - okay you take care of,  that nobody looks at me Ed?" - After Venice was sure that Ed would take care of that point, the girl quickly sneaked outside and ran to the jacket,  that belonged to Denver,  to look for the key that would open the baby gate to enter the kitchen.
Someone had the great idea,  that it would be not so great, if 8 children aged 3-6 years could just walk into the big kitchen at every time.
That is why the Parents had put up this baby gate during the meeting last year and you could only open the baby gate, with a key,  if you had the same size as the children.
Moments later, Venice had the key in her hand and grinned at Ed, who signaled her,  that she should come back inside quickly. The young girl turned around and checked, that most of the adults were distracted, so she ran back into the house.
****
Less than five minutes later, the Children had entered the kitchen, a stool stood in front of the cupboard where the chocolate was supposed to be, and now it was up to Andalucía and Toledo to climb onto the working space under the cupboard and then get to the candy faster out of one of the cupboards, because CC couldn’t remember exactly in which of the many cupboards his father hide the chocolate.
"If you fall, we'll catch you - just like in the movies", Venice grinned as Toledo and Andalucía climbed onto the stool, so that they can climb onto the work surface. Then they opened the first closet doors while the other children made sure that everything worked as it should.
"There is no chocolate here -just plates and cups," said Toledo when he closed the cupboard door again, and Andalucía didn't seem to be very lucky either, because as far as she could look into the open cupboard, there was hardly anything that looked like an large chocolate bar.
"Look into the closets further to the right",  suggested CC and only gave the twins a questioning look. After all, they lived with their parents in the large villa and still had to know what was in the other cupboards.
"Mom sometimes puts flour and sugar in the closet on the right. Maybe there?" - it came uncertainly from Madrid.
"I see something - behind the pack of flour. Here Andalucía hold that" - Toledo could actually see something that looked like chocolate and that was behind a pack of flour.
When Toledo handed the little girl the package with the flour, the daughter of Berlin had a hard time holding the flour package and then put it down next to her on the work surface.
"The sugar too ... here" - before the girl could protested, the pack of sugar was pressed into her hand and the bag landed - luckily without the toddler on the floor of the kitchen.
"I have the chocolate" - this sentence was drowned out by the impact and the spreading of the flour throughout the kitchen and the children were very happy.
When the two smallest kids of the group had safely climbed off the wor surface and the stool, there was a second muffled sound and the pack of sugar fall off the work surface and landed as well on the floor.
But the children weren't worried about that - after all, they had reached the goal and the chocolate in was in their hands - there was only one small problem.
Who would split it up up or want to keep it to themselv? Within a few moments there was a discussion between the children, in which the bar of chocolate was passed back and forth, and various points of views  about who had done more with the plan  were said out loud - it wouldn't be long before chaos would break out between the kids.
"I pretend like I haven't seen anything niños" - Moscow was smiling with a camera in his hand in the door frame and had captured the moment when all the children wanted to grab the chocolate bar,  before CC's grandfather went outside to the Garden .
The children stopped confused for a moment and that could only mean one thing - soon their parents would show up here and no one would have a piece of the Chocolate.
And right at that moment - the Chaos break out.
***
CC grabbed the Chocolate bar and wanted to run out of the room. However, Toledo and Andalucía stood in his way and when they wanted to grab the chocolate bar out of his hands, CC, who was a bit bigger and stronger as the younger ones , pushed them into the sugar and the flour mix, that had spread out on the kitchen floor.
"CC why do you want to run away? Just because it was your plan?" - Before CC could continue his escape, Madrid and Malindi hold CC back on his shoulders and pulled him back.
"Yes and my plan was great!", came from CC selfish, who at the moment only thought,  that he had to somehow bring the chocolate to a safe place
. "It was our plan - now give us the chocolate-  that we can share CC",  said Madrid and Malindi impatiently, roughly put the package away from CC.
"Put the Chocolate down!"
These words confused the Children and before anyone could react, Venice found a some eggs and the mischief sparkle was in her eyes - the same that had always been with Tokyo when she worked out her own plan.
Venice already threw three eggs in the direction of CC, Madrid and Malindi. One of the eggs hit Toledo and Andalucía, which caused the two children to take a handful of the flour-sugar mixture and run to Venice.
When the Parents entered the Kitchen, alarmed by Moscow's nice advice, they couldn't believe their eyes.
Because the Flour and Sugar were everywhere in half the kitchen. The children's clothes were covered with the mixture and the remains of egg shells and in the middle of Argument that the children were still fighting about - luckily not with their fists - a Chocolate bar flew through the Air and landed right in front of the Professor.
"The efficiency of your nap time should actually lead to a different result...",  sighed the professor and when the children heard his voice, they stopped their discussion of what would happen , if the adults came into the Kitchen.
The eight children looked a bit shocked at the professor, who, like the rest of the Parents, looked at the chaos in the Kitchen.
"We ... didn't want to make mess Daddy ...", Madrid started.
"... really not Daddy but we heard ..." Edinburgh continued.
"... that a mean chocolate thief wanted to steal the chocolate that CC's daddy hide...", Venice got involved and tried to push the he pack of eggs with her foot under the Table.
"... and we had to prevent that otherwise ...", said Toledo and looked at his friends for help.
"... CC's Daddy hungry a lots..", Andalucía helped with a shy look at the Professor.
"... that's why we came up with a plan  - to save the Chocolate from the Thief. We ...borrowed the key for the baby gate from CC´S Daddy's jacket -", Madrid added.
"- then we found the Chocolate and ... the Flour and Sugar got open and ... we couldn't decide who was going to split the chocolate - so we can share", said Malindi.
".... we are very sorry", CC finished the explanations and the children repeated the apology again and looked at the professor carefully .
And the Professor?
He looked from the Chaos that was in his kitchen to the Children, who were only now aware of the Chaos they had caused.
For a moment, the Professor considered whether he should give a speech about the rules - one of them was,  that they should only come out of the room during an afternoon nap when it´s important or theey need the help of an Adult - not for a stealing a bar of chocolate that Denver wanted to hide for himself in the Kitchen.
But against his intentions , only a short smile formed on the professor's lips and the amused laugh of Moscow, Denver and Tokyo made him reject this thought.
He had another idea for Kids.
The professor picked up the Candy and cleared his throat once , to get the children's attention.
"Your Teamwork has been good - you can use it , to clear up the Chaos later. And when you're done, come to me and I'll split the chocolate for you, so that you can share  - okay?"
The End
AO3
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abominable-space-they · 1 year ago
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Pay Me What You Owe Me, ch 3
Still You Get Wrapped Up in Misery(And I Love It)
The HEU Rhianna MV Mashup Assassin's AU
Sure Nigel had a bad feeling about it from the beginning, and the client was particularly awful. In their line of work, they didn't expect to like their clients, as long as they paid, everyone got to walk away
Well except their targets, but that's just business.
Now Mason Verger was paying them extremely well to get rid of both his husband & boyfriend at the same time, with enough spectacle to hopefully draw suspicion off of him & get him some public sympathy.
The massive payday is enough to convince them to take the job despite their misgivings.
But a week later, hiding out in third rate hotel w/ two hostages & no payment in their account, Will & Nigel are having a very bad day, Hannibal & Adam are having a surprisingly ok day all things considered... and Mason Verger is about to find out exactly who he's been fucking with
--
"Bitch better have my money
Y'all should know me well enough
Bitch better have my money
Please don't call me on my bluff
Pay me what you owe me"
-Rhianna
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justinewt · 2 years ago
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London, Punk Capital - MONEY HEIST: KOREA Chapter One
[MONEY HEIST: KOREA MASTERLIST]
Next Chapter (SOON)
Summary: When Jin-sol, a promising young sportswoman decides to send her whole life away, going as far as faking her suicide to get under the radar, and crosses paths with the Professor, she finds herself involved in the plan of an ambitious heist that reveals her true colors. The target: the Mint of the Joint Economic Area. 
Words: 5k
Warnings: Money Heist: Korea season 1 (episode 1), 1st person pov, mention of suicide: FAKE suicide (no blood etc), loss, backstory, screams, hostage-taking, tauting, guns
DECEMBER 2023
At only 18, the path I was going to take was already mapped out. Plans to major in Sports studies and have a brilliant career as a combat sports athlete. I practiced Taekwondo since I was 6 years old, and it was my dream to become a professional in this sport. My dream, to represent South Korea at the Olympics one day. If I had been born in North Korea and lived in poverty, like my mom did, I wouldn’t have had so many opportunities and options but ultimately, I chose to throw away one of the only things I was good at and end it all and give up the life of freedom she risked hers for. Years ago, my mother, a hardworking but private woman, died of overwork and left me in the care of my uncle. I was 10 years old. Nobody had ever told me anything about my biological father, even though she had known him quite well and my uncle was the closest thing I had to a dad anyway so after I found myself orphaned, he adopted me and I started to call him dad because I wanted to feel like my peers, who had their parents. But he died too, and not that long ago. He was a college professor and taught in the department of business and economics at the Seoul National University. This smart and caring man was the last family I had. Losing everyone just made me realise an honest life wasn’t always worth it.
The wind was blowing that night. I let my bag fall on the floor of the Mapo bridge sidewalk and took off my jacket, making sure my identity papers and suicide note were in the pockets. It was actually not my plan to take my own life. My only wish was to completely disappear from the radar screens and let life surprise me with whatever it could come up. I heard my grandfather died in a robbing, in the 90s. Maybe I could do that too, without the dying part obviously. This new life choice was a complete turnaround, but it was my choice. Living an underground life in the guise of a dead person wasn't just anything. I was calm as I tied my hair in a bun above my neck, staring into the distance. Cars drove by but no one pulled over to come and stop me and that was for the best. The bridge was notorious for suicides and dozens of telephones and signs to deter people from commiting were set up along both sides. Glancing around, I leaned on the railing, lifted my leg and tipped my body over to the other side, resting my feet on the ledge. I didn't even really want to kill myself; it was just to give the illusion of it, and despite the fact that it was good that no one was bothering me, I wanted someone to witness my fall so that they could then confirm to the authorities that I was the person who jumped. I was not yet such a famous sportswoman, few people would be sad to hear the news, maybe my old friends from middle and high school but that was all. Everyone would forget me, ultimately.
I tried taking deep breaths. Despite the bright lights all over the bridge, the water looked dark beneath my feet. After a minute of staring down at the Han River, I heard someone calling out to me. This was my cue. I didn’t even look at the person trying to talk me out of it, closed my eyes, held my breath and let go of the railing. My body fell forward, and I plunged into the water. For a brief moment, I forgot my plan and let the water carry me away but eventually, I swam. I swam all night long and hid under another bridge, far from the one I jumped off of. The police would check the bag and jacket I left, get a testimony from the witness and quickly rule it out as a suicide. They would try to find my body but after a few days of being unsuccessful at doing so and with no one stepping forward, like a family member or something, they would stop searching and I would be fine. I just needed to lay low for a bit. I hid in seedy hotels and dyed my hair red. On my ID, I had bangs and black shoulder-length hair. It was now quite different, and it changed my appearance a lot. I left Seoul and went where the wind took me. And the wind took me to Mungyeong where I joined an illegal fighting ring. I ran into some cool guy who became like a brother to me. You’ll meet him eventually. He is not especially sharp-witted but he's fun, I'm sure you'll like him. Just so you know, I’ll refer to him as 오빠 “oppa” most of the time. It’s Korean for brother.
We would fight at every illegal fight club we could find and never lost. He eventually beat up the gamblers who had bet on us and we left. He had told me his father was constantly in and out of prison and he was the last person we expected to see. Gamblers had lost lot of money because of the both of us and had sent their dogs after us. He played with them while I tried to fight them off. So much so I always had to urge him to keep moving. I was way younger but the most serious of the pair. We had slipped between two buildings, which roofs we were running on just a moment before, trying to escape them but we got stuck. These guys were above and below us. A few cursings came out of our lips as the wall exploded. We protected our faces and looked to the side. A man was sticking his head out of the hole made by the explosion. It was his dad. He helped us get out of there and we ran away. That’s when we were introduced to a man calling himself the Professeur, 규슈 “guyshu”. When I met him, the first thought that went through my head was that he reminded me of my uncle, but it wasn’t what this meeting was about. He needed us to join his plan, which was to rob the Mint in the Joint Economic Area. We were in. He had assembled a whole team of people like us, and he brought us together to where our hideout was. The place where we would learn all about his plan until the D-day came around.
I had no idea how he found this place. A whole hotel complex, abandoned. Perfect for us. As we walked down a tree-lined path to reach the disused resort, I looked at the faces around me. We were 10 in total. For the first day, we settled in the hotel swimming pool. The professor had set up a whiteboard and we sat around it, in an arc. I sat on a cube with the number 6 on one side and next to me was a stern man in a suit. I wasn’t in such fancy clothing, just wearing a black short-sleeved T-shirt with BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER in red writings, a faux leather skirt, a pair of pantyhose and combat boots. There was this little thing I hadn’t left behind when I faked my own suicide, and it was a gold ring that my mom gifted me. It was a ring she had herself been gifted, by her older sister for her 18th birthday. She had written in the letter she left me, that when triplets are born in North Korea, boys get silver daggers and girls get gold rings, as a gift from the government. Until I read this, I had no idea my mother actually had three older siblings. The 50-year-old ring hung from a thin cord tied around my neck.
“Before we start, I wanna make this clear.” The professor started speaking. “From now on, regardless of age or where you’re from, we’ll all speak informally. We’ll use code names to call each other instead of using real names.”
“I can do code names, but what about respect?” Oppa’s dad raised his hand. “What’s the reason for that?”
“It’s safer that no one knows. It’s out of serious precaution for each other’s identity. How about we use city names?” He walked over to a small table and grabbed a globe from it. “It can be a city you wanna live in once the job’s over or a name that you like the sound of. It’s up to you, so pick one.”
Gyushu sat down and the first of us that stood up was the other youngest of the group. W ewere called the “maknae”, literally meaning the youngest. He turned the globe and put his finger on the city of Rio de Janeiro, sketching an excited smile, chuckled and moved his body like he was dancing the samba. That guy who looks like your typical K-pop idol is Rio.       He’s a horrible dancer, but apparently, he’s an amazing hacker. Then came oppa’s turn. I already told you, his story.
“Denver. I’mma go with that one since it’s near the Rocky Mountains. You guys know Rocky. It’s, uh… It’s my favorite movie of all time.” He punched the air, making the sound effect to accompany his gestures. Faced with his little show, his father seemed quite embarrassed.
“Just so you know, that movie is set in Philadelphia.” The professor's intervention caused Denver to stop, and he awkwardly brushed the hair from his face.
“Oh- oh, really? Philadelphia. Phil… That’s a bit long. Denver sounds a lot stronger, right?” His father then picked Moscow as his alias. I did say he was in and out of prison in the years prior to this day but he also used to work in the mines, so naturally he’s a digging expert. That’s why he’s here. And where was here? The dead-end that was his life.
“Has anyone here ever been to Africa before? The cradle of civilization. Words can only try to describe. Did you know the area’s famous for diamonds?” This woman who introduced us to her ass as she chose her alias was Nairobi. A pathological liar. A forgery master, claiming to have been a part of every major crime, but I didn’t take her word for it. She was probably nothing more than a con artist. She went back to her seat and two fellows walked towards the globe, squabbling over its use, pushing each other around. That jolly pair was Helsinki and Olso. Fixers from Yanbian. Word had it that they wiped their entire gang and left. Next was the man in the fancy suit sat in the chair next to me. He went up to the globe, his hands in his back and picked it to take a look at it. Berlin. He had this gift for making people nervous, but he didn’t intimidate or scare me. He was from the Kaechon camp in the North, where only the dead are free. How he got here is a mystery that made him the most wanted man in the history of North Korea. I hopped on my feet before he even came back to his seat and crossed his gaze when he handed me the globe, stepping away. His eyes lingered on me as I turned the globe and put my finger.
“London.”
“It fits you.” I nodded, giving the professor a smile as I returned to my seat. The last to take an alias was Tokyo. She had come down here from the North after being discharged from the army.
“Out of all the places, why pick Tokyo?” Denver enquired.
“Because we’ll be doing bad things.” Some of us chuckled at the remark. I sketched a smirk.
“Yo, that’s really smart.”
“She’s right.” The professor stood up and she walked past him to go back to her seat. I leaned on my knees, listening to him. “We will be doing bad things. We are going to pull off the single largest heist in history. The North opened up its economy, and every Korean was promised that they’d benefit from this, but in reality, only the rich got richer. It’s time for us, the ones left with nothing to claim what’s ours. This is why we’ve formed this team. I’m going to make this clear. Not a single person will get hurt. Our goal is to steal four trillion won and then we’ll disappear. We’re giving the public the best show they’ve ever seen, live and in their faces. And they’ll have no choice but to root for us all.”
“There’s no way that’s possible.” Rio said.
“Okay, let’s say it is possible. Where are we gonna find that much money?” Nairobi wondered.
“The target for our heist… is gonna be…” He marched to a table covered with a red fabric behind us and pulled it off. The others stood up to see while Berlin and I just pivoted in our seats. “… The Mint.”
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FIVE MONTHS LATER
We all had to stick to our roles to make this plan work. I was one of the only ones to have no real decision-making power, but I was fine with it. It had been decided that Berlin would be the on-the-ground chief of operations, so I had to follow his orders and those of the professor to the letter, but my job did not end there. I didn't have a mere supporting role in the heist. What I had to do was a lot more vicious. We knew that there would be We knew that the hostages would not only be Mint employees, but also students from Myeongseong Foreign Language High School, where the US Ambassador's daughter was studying. She would be our key hostage. The most valuable of all. And what I was to do, prior to the heist, was get close to her and in order to do so, the Professor had provided me with a whole new identity to join this school, and more specifically the class she was in. I assumed a new name and wore a realistic wig that really gave the illusion that I had bleached my hair, but not to the point that it was white or platinum, but kind of straw blonde, with blunt bangs falling right above my eyebrows. It really changed my face. I wasn’t really into the whole going back to school thing, but I had to do it. At first, I was in school for about 90 percent of the time but once the professor brought us all together and we started working on the plan for the heist, I didn't go there as often anymore. One obvious excuse was that of the so-called chronic disease from which I suffered, or rather from which the student I played suffered and that I had to go abroad for a long time.
At the same time as preparing for the robbery, I was doing homework remotely and chatting with the classmates I had “befriended” to keep up appearances. I must have been very convincing in this role since I had totally succeeded in my mission and Anne Kim really seemed to consider me a friend. She was one of the people who texted me the most, often asking how I was doing and if I would be back in time to come with them to visit the Mint.
“It’s great you’re doing better.” Anne said as she was taking selfies in front of the Mint. I looked to the side and watched the students getting off the bus and nodded with a soft smile.
“It was hell having to stay in the hospital.” A group of girls then came running towards us, disrupting our quiet conversation and one of them grabbed my shoulder to bring me closer to them and take a picture of us. Right after the camera click shuttered, they ran back to the group of students. I stared at them. I couldn’t wait to take off that wig and stupid school uniform and take my place among the robbers. This little role-playing game had gone on long enough.
“Um, later can you send me the photos?” Anne and I turned our heads as we heard a classmate's voice rise near us. I hadn't even noticed he was there while we were taking the group photo. “You have insta, right?”
“I don’t.” Anne looked him up and down and took my arm to bring me with her to our classmates, standing two by two in line in front of the entrance to the Mint building. I was really getting tired of having to act like a 17-year-old teenager, but I played along and stood with her as the teacher invited us to follow her inside. With a quiet sigh, I looked behind us and saw two women standing by a tree. Nairobi wore a purple wig and was smoking, and Tokyo wore a light blonde wig. As I climbed the stairs, I held her gaze before walking into the hall and looking ahead. They now knew that Anne Kim and I entered the building, and surely told the rest of the team.
“Please stay in line as you follow me.” A lady greeted us at the entrance and guided us into the Mint, walking us down the monetary exhibition hall, telling us about the story of South and North Korean’s currencies. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to everything she was saying but rather waiting impatiently for when I would finally be able to swap roles. For now, I kept that jaded expression on my face and walked beside Anne. She stopped in her tracks to take a photo of a politician with a Snapchat filter on. The teacher reminded her not to take pictures and wait until the tour was over. We continued to follow the group and I saw Anne take a turn in the direction of the toilets. Glancing at our comrades, I slipped away, wanting to keep an eye on this precious hostage. I quietly opened the door to the restrooms and heard Anne speaking in English in one of the stalls. She was on the phone with someone, complaining about school, her uniform and her dad. Rolling my eyes in annoyance I turned around and the moment I let go of the door, I heard gunshots ring out. I was taken aback and jumped but quickly, a smirk appeared on my face, and I walked with a determined step while everyone ran and screamed around me. Nobody paid attention to my behavior, far too poised for such a situation. My fellow robbers were finally there, threatening the students and employees with their guns. When I found myself among the students, I started acting scared and let out a few screams of terror. I saw Tokyo arrive, she took off her wig and looked around. She held her gun against her shoulder, the barrel pointed in the air. When she met my gaze, she grabbed my arm and dragged me away. I cried out.
“Where’s the girl?” She spoke in a scolding manner, raising her voice and I did my part.
“In- In the restroom.” My body was shaking so much that I struggled to line up those three words and my voice broke into a sob as I answered. Tokyo looked at me with great surprise, eyes widened. She tightened her grip on my arm and looked me down, trying to hide that she had been unsettled by how intense but realistic my acting was. she let go of me, pushing me away unceremoniously before going to get Anne Kim. I lost my balance and the teacher caught me and brought me back to her and the students, asking me if everything was okay but I didn't answer, pretending to be so shaken that I couldn't answer, but on the contrary, her fear was very real. The robbers, dressed in red boiler suits and masks inspired by traditional Hahoe masks. Only Nairobi, with her purple wig, had yet to put the outfit on. As agreed, Berlin was leading the group. Despite the masks, I also knew very quickly which one was Denver since I saw him out of the corner of my eye wanting to approach me when he saw this distress on my face, and I also saw his hair tied in a bun. He had let himself be deceived by these artifices, but Berlin had prevented him from approaching me while they put blindfolds around the eyes of the hostages, lined up in two groups facing each other.
I was the last to be blindfolded and Berlin stopped in front of me, without a sound. I couldn't quite look him in the eye, but I stared at him anyway and all that fear I was faking was gone. His fingers lingered on the thread of my necklace and after holding the ring between his thumb and index finger for a hot second, he slowly lowered the blindfold over my eyes. They could have left my sight, but Tokyo had not yet returned with Anne, and it was important that the illusion remain intact for a little while longer, until the real moment of the reveal. Only then would they raise the curtain on the fact that I was one of them, and not a hostage. The latter were also shaking with fear and beyond this noise pollution, I heard footsteps coming towards us and I immediately thought of Tokyo. I didn’t need to see to have the confirmation that she had brought Anne. I heard the latter grunt when Tokyo pushed her after blindfolding the teenager. Berlin’s voice then rose as he took a few steps.
“Hello, everyone. I’m the one in charge here. I apologize for the invconvenience, but you are our hostages.” They whimpered, holding hands, shaking, but I stood still and listened to Berlin as he walked in front the hostages. “We each go through all sorts of moments in life, both good and bad. During the bad moments, it feels like the sky is falling down, but after some time, you’ll realize it was nothing. Each of you will have that experience, as long as you follow our orders. Many years from now, this will be an exciting adventure story that you can wow your grandchildren with. But in case any of you are thinking of causing trouble, let me tell you just one thing. I truly love when that happens.”
“Empty your pockets.” Moscow then ordered. The two hostaged that were holding my hands let go and I let out a sigh while they gave their access cards and cell phones, which were being put away in a box when suddenly, one of them rang, or so I thought but I quickly realized it wasn't a cell phone ringtone. I lifted the bottom of the blindfold and saw a landline phone on the reception counter. It was this phone that was ringing so loudly. I could also see that my fellw robbers had taken off their masks and Berlin was looking at all of them when the director of the Mint raised a shuddering hand.
“What is it?”
“That could be from headquarters.” He told him, trembling. “If we don’t pick up, th-th-they’ll know something’s going on.” The woman standing next to him gave him a shy blow with her hand. Berlin must have seen it but chose to act as if it was not the case.
“You know, I like your face. I feel like I’ll grow to like you. Answer the phone.” His voice suddenly grew harsher, and he grabbed the woman’s hand. She whimpered as he led her to the phone and was panting. He got her to calm down and take a deep breath and put her hand on the phone.
“This… This is the Minting Bureau.” Berlin and Denver exchanged a look. “We’re experiencing network difficulties." The woman's voice rose, taking on an aggravated tone. She told them off before hanging up abruptly. Berlin sketched a smirk as he properly replaced the phone on its base and took her hand.
“So, was it important?”
“It’s, um… it was nothing.” He looked at her and nodded with a large, drawn smile. His hand on her shoulder, he led her back to her place among the hostages.
“It wasn’t important. We won’t have any problems now, will we?” The woman and the Mint’s director nodded nervously. Berlin clapped the latter on the shoulder, and he whimpered, sticking to his secretary in fear. He then walked away from them and gave me a look as he passed in front of me. The blindfold he had put over my eyes was now up on my forehead, but obviously, since I wasn’t an actual hostage, he didn’t really care and waved at me to follow him. I smiled, knowing that I was going to leave this high school uniform. When they would remove their blindfold, Anne Kim would probably start to panic when she saw that I had disappeared, and she wouldn't recognize me behind my mask. She had no idea I had been wearing a wig for several months and that I was this red-haired robber. We would leave her the surprise and the pleasure that her good friend never actually existed. As we moved away from the hostages, Denver, Moscow, and Rio left the lobby and headed for the Mint vault. I watched them as I took off my blonde wig and let go of it into the bag from which I had retrieved the red suit, boots and Hahoe mask I was going to wear and walked to the nearest restroom. I had taken an earpiece as well.
It would probably take a few minutes for the three others to take care of getting the vault open. I quickened my pace as I walked down the hallway and pushed open the bathroom door and dropped the stuff on the floor before taking off my skirt and blazer. Once the suit was on, I pulled up the zipper to the waist, put on the combat boots and tied my hair in a low bun before washing my face. Without this light makeup, I looked more mature already. In front of the bathroom mirror, my eyes fell on the ring hanging from my neck, the one that had caught Berlin's eye as I stood among the hostages. I stared at the reflection holding it between my fingers and after a few seconds, I sighed, put my arms through the sleeves of the suit and put the mask on my face. I then shoved the uniform into the trash can and grabbed the bag to tie it before heading back into the hall. Berlin watched the room from the central stairs and glanced at me as I returned. I grabbed a gun and slung the handle over my shoulder, finally taking on my role as one of the robbers. The hostages were shaking like leaves as the rest of my peers walked across the room carrying bags filled with banknotes retrieved from the vault opened by Denver, Moscow and Rio while I was gone off to the restroom to change. Berlin pressed his earpiece, and I heard him in mine speaking to the professor.
“Professor, we’re going out now.” Behind my mask I watched him slowly descend the stairs. Moscow and I walked beside him. An alarm went off and the thud of the main door opening echoed all the way to us. Seeing the director lifting his blindfold and sneaking a peek around him, we came to a halt and upon realizing that we had seen him, he jumped and looked down. This man was such a coward but what happened was a perfect example as to why I had to keep my mask on for now. To keep the element of surprise. Berlin smiled and looked at Moscow and I and while he slowly walked up to him, I looked at Anne Kim. She was just a couple feet away. I didn’t feel bad for lying to her all those months, but I was well aware that somewhere deep inside me, she had become my friend and I hadn't had one in a long time. I did an immediate head turn when I heard him rip the blindfold off the director's head. The latter was shuddering. He leaned forward and whimpered, squinting his eyes really hard.
“I didn’t see anything. I swear.”
“You can look. Mmh? It’s okay, mm? I said open your eyes.” Berlin grabbed the man’s head and held him in place. “Do you wanna know what we’re up to? Is that it, huh?”
“No. I swear!” He whined, keeping his eyes shut in fear. I was watching him with a jaded expression on my face. I found him to be of a really irritating and annoying character. One time, he acts as if he thinks he's master of the world and there he is, shaking and yelping like a wounded dog. “I know absolutely nothing, and I don’t wanna know anything—”
“No, no. I like you, my friend, so let me tell you exactly what we’re doing right now.” He patted him on the shoulder and took a step back, pulling out his handgun and aimed at his head. “We’re going to have a gunfight with the police, and people are going to die, like in movies.” The director opened his eyes and looked at the weapon, scared for his life. “BANG!”
He fell to his knees, yelping and whimpering and the other hostages clamored at the loud noise made by Berlin, while he chuckled. I would have laughed with him if I didn't have to make sure that Anne Kim wouldn't hear and recognize my voice, but the situation was, from my point of view, very funny. This moment of Berlin having fun terrorizing the hostages was really setting the tone for the whole heist, and I couldn't wait to see what was next. Everything had been carefully planned, down to the smallest detail. The Professor was prepared to any eventuality. He had emphasized from the beginning that it was important no one gets hurt or dies. Killing or hurting people wasn’t the plan. We tackled the subject during one of those study session in the swimming pool of the abandoned hotel complex where we had established our headquarters. As always, we were seated around him, in front of the whiteboard covered with maps, a model of the Mint on a small table next to it. Arms and legs crossed, seated between Rio and Berlin, I was slumped in my chair, fiddling with the ring around my neck as I watched and listened attentively to the Professor.
“When the police arrive, act as if you’ve been caught while trying to flee, and shoot at them, and retreat back into the building to hide…” He moved his hand towards the model of the Mint. “…like a rat caught in a trap.”
“But why exactly do you want us to fire into the air?” Denver wondered.
“I told you. Our plan is to not kill or hurt anyone.”
“But it’s not like anyone plans to die.” Nairobi stated, followed by Rio, backing up her words. My eyes went from one to the other without really turning my head.
“She’s right. Who knows what’s gonna happen? Couldn’t we just kill a few if the situation calls for it?”
“Absolutely not. This is crucial for our plan to work.” I heard Berlin laugh behind me.
“Our plan? Sounds like your morals are getting in the way.”
“What’s with all the comments?” Tokyo spoke, and he didn't seem so amused anymore, staring at her. She looked at everyone and let her gaze fall back to Berlin, raising her eyebrows. “Our job here is to execute the Professor’s plan. If you can’t, then leave.”
And I agreed with her. Which is why, like the brothers and Moscow, I was among the few to not say anything during the lesson. I was not to question the Professor's words and orders. I had promised. Because it didn’t matter the reason, when the Professor told us to jump, we asked how high. From the hall, where only Berlin, Moscow and I had remained with the hostages, we heard police sirens in the distance, a brief silence and then gunshots. The hostages gasped and screamed, as usual. The police were firing back at them and we heard from our earpieces that something had happened in Rio but we couldn’t see what was going on. In the following seconds, they must have pulled back inside the building since the closing of the door was engaged. Now that news of an armed robbery over the Mint would spread, the real heist could begin. Officials from the North and the South would scratch their brains really hard to find the best way to resolve the situation. The Korean Peninsula, the only divided country on earth, was soon to be unified after all. An unprecedented situation was unfolding inside a unique zone called the JEA. Short for Joint Economic Area. Korea’s neighbors weren’t the only ones paying attention… the whole world was watching.
Bags full of red suits and masks were lined up on the floor. The rest of the team was back in the room after the exchange of gunfire with the police a couple of minutes ago. I stood next to the two brothers, near the bags. I was slightly behind, my face still hidden. The surprise would soon be revealed to my dear school friends.
“My dear hostages, please take off your blindfolds.”
“Come on, everyone. You can take ‘em off.” Denver raised his voice, urging them to do so while Berlin walked in front of them. They eventually took them off, hands shaking. My eyes were on Anne Kim who was just taking notice of her surroundings after removing her blindfold. She would quickly notice my disappearance, and most likely comment on it.
“It’s so good to finally speak with you all face-to-face. There’s no need to be afraid. We are all trapped inside the same building together, which means we have to work together, hmm?” He sketched a large smile and nodded at us to bring the bags. Standing beside Moscow in front of the stairs, he watched the others proceed to give red jumpsuits to the hostages. Anne Kim was looking around her, frowning.
“Where is Park Ho-Yeon? What did you do with her?” She demanded answers. Berlin smirked and turned to her, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Back to them, I continued to give suits to hostages right in front of her.
“Who?” Berlin asked her, acting as if he didn’t know what she was talking about which he wasn’t supposed to so she must have mistaken his tone for mockery regarding her concern for her friend. He was, in a way, actually mocking and taunting her like he did with the director. Faced with his intimidating gaze which she held, she repeated herself.
“Where is my friend? The one with the blond—”
“What friend?” When she heard my voice, she went silent, probably not knowing what to think anymore. Time stopped for a few seconds. As I swiveled towards her, I slid my mask over my head and discovered the look of profound stupor on her face. She was shocked. Mouth open, she couldn't hide her shock. I took a few steps towards her.
“Ho-Yeon, you’re… with them?”
“My name’s not Ho-Yeon.” Berlin walked up to us, laughing and patted my shoulder, looking at Anne Kim, with a broad, amused grin on his face. This look of betrayal I saw in her eyes followed me as I walked towards the stairs with him.
“We have no intention of hurting any of you, trust me.” He then declared; hands clasped. He spoke with a smile. “Each and every one of you will return home without a single scratch, as long as you fully cooperate with us. I give you my word. Let’s just have some fun.”
Soon, the first day of this unprecedented robbery came to an end and night fell. We had been occupying the Mint for over 11 hours already and the whole world was kept in suspense, looking at us, wondering what was going to happen next. But people weren't the only ones racking their brains to figure out our next move. Even the task force was most likely confused. The one with the true upper hand was not the North or the South. It was the Professor. He developed plans and factored in everything. Like I said, he had planned everything, down to the smallest detail. The Professor came up with solutions for every possible situation and then a backup plan for each of those possibilities. I found it all very impressive and to be apart of it was beyond great and exciting. It had all just started earlier this day and I was already having a blast. All those months invested in preparing for this heist had been worth it. I was sure of that.
“They’ll be there very soon. Proceed as planned.” We were warned by the professor over the phone, that a military raid was coming to get us. We talked about this situation during our classes, which would happen if the North took over in the Task Force and they would never agree to negotiate with us. They would try to suppress us no matter what, and they would try to do so in secret.
“There is a total of five entry points. The main gate, the rooftop, the underground garage, the emergency exit on the side, and last but not least, the loading dock. If you remove the main gate and the rooftop where they’re likely to be seen, they’ll use the other three to enter.” Berlin raised his hand.
“Okay so let’s say we know when they’ll enter, thanks to the information from that woman.” I might have forgotten to mention it but yeah, the woman in question was the negociator, Seon Woojin. When I said the North took over amid the Task Force, I omitted that it would happen if she was sidelined. “How do we stop the Special Operations Unit when they have so many points of entry?”
“Well, that’s a good question.” He had this calm and collected look on his face, like he had it all figured out, which he had. I remember he asked us what we thought was the best strategy when we’re surrounded by enemies. We were only 9 robbers, but we had plenty of people at hand to repel the soldiers, without even having to fight. We outnumbered them, thanks to the hostages disguised as robbers. What they would see, no matter where they tried to get in from, would be masked people in red jumper suits holding guns towards them. With Rio in the office, watching the cameras, we were all with different groups of hostages turned into robbers for the subterfuge and the soldiers would never be able to tell a real robber with a gun from a hostage with a fake one. They would be forced to retreat. And it’s exactly how it happened. We handled the situation exactly how the professor told us to and everything went like clockwork. Everyone was then led back to the main room where there was a heavy silence among the hostages. Berlin, towering above us from the top of the stairs, broke the silence. I stood with my peers, on the other end of the room, right across the stairs.
“Now, my dear comrades, take off your masks.” He smiled as he watched them do as he said but quickly regained his seriousness. “Thanks to your cooperation, the police completely aborted their mission to raid the building.”
“Yes!” Moscow cheered and Denver and I chuckled.
“I want to applaud you all for being courageous and for your exceptional teamwork. We could not have done this without you.” He sketched another broad smile and slowly clapped his hands as he descended the stairs, and we joined in, walking in front of the hostages, mocking them with our smirks. We clapped strongly and eventually, one after the other, the hostages clapped along, and I laughed, meeting Berlin's gaze. We were both all smiles. The hostages didn’t look as happy as we did, obviously but how they felt went flying over my head. You can call me insensitive and self-centered, which I don’t think I was, but that still was the last thing I cared about. I did what I was asked to do, follow the Professor’s orders. I did my part and was satisfied. We had successfully prevented the raid, and the Task Force would be forced to recall their negotiator and forget about the use of force to enter. And with one of the hostages happening to be the daughter of the US Ambassador to Korea, that was no longer a possibility at all.
[To be continued…]  
Next Chapter (SOON)
Published (03/25/2023) by Andrea
Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64
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the--sound--of--rain · 2 years ago
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He leaned in closer, and the man’s breath hitched.
“I will kill you.” He whispered.
He was fully ready for him to start squirming.
“I know.” He uttered back, a slight tremble in his voice but his body still, pupils expanding like a pacing heart. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I first read about you.”
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The third and final chapter of my Spooktober fic "A lover in the story" ✨ A slasher for Valentine's day 💕
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moreaugriffins · 1 month ago
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Professor | Sergio Marquina Characters: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa, Professor | Sergio Marquina, Palermo | Martín Berrote Additional Tags: Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (eventually) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Suicidal Thoughts, Pining, Terminal Illnesses, Misogyny, (because it's Andres), bit of internalised homophobia (because it's andres), Martin doesn't appear but he's mentioned (a lot), Andrés de Fonollosa-centric, Unreliable Narrator, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary:
Ever since his god-forsaken diagnosis, Andres had been preparing for his death.
With the timer ticking down, as seconds turn to minutes turn to hours turn to days, he had to make the best use of his time, to prepare for the inevitable.
You see, there weren’t many things that Andres could control in his life, not after being given a death sentence. He couldn’t control his whore of a wife or his traitorous son, he couldn’t control the time that was quickly passing, and slowly but surely he started to lose control of his muscles, unable to stop the shaking without taking medication for it.
Death was the only thing that he could twist and mould into exactly what he wanted - something to be remembered, to be immortalised. A masterpiece, one might consider.
A man like him did not deserve to be mourned - but that did not mean he couldn’t be immortalised.
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OR : Andres' journey through the events of S1 and S2, his survival and captivity, and eventual healing
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the-acid-pear · 10 months ago
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Did I ever confess that the way I got the fact that Peter and Jack are related was thru a fanfic. Because I was light going lightheaded over that phoney as I still do and then I'm like huh only 3 fics how weird ! and then I saw the tags and his full name and I was like 😦. So I decided to close it and go to sleep and then spent the whole day actively trying to forget it 👍
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yourlocalbadgerscales · 3 months ago
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So
~
90 notes: I’ll post some random shit I’ve been planning to post forever
160 notes: I’ll post a chapter of a fic I have drafted on Ao3 (y’all if I don’t post it before Oct 2 it’ll automatically delete itself so please save my fic before it’s too late oml)
250 notes: I’ll start going on walks at least once a week (I really need motivation)
370 notes: I’ll tell my best friend some big news about my identity (why am I so scared? Idk)
530 notes: I’ll post an audio of me singing something (you can wish for any song in the comments if you like!)
1660 notes: I’ll post a lot of shit I have in my Tumblr drafts + I’ll gather the courage ask my friends for a little money so I can buy myself my own phone (I need a second one in case anything bad happens to me and I have to run away from home. No, I won’t elaborate.)
1850 notes: I’ll take more time to do the things I love this winter.
2000 notes: I’ll wear my lesbian pin in front of my mum and hope she sees it.
2300 notes: I’ll tell my therapist a lot of things… things she probably needs to know but I’m scared to tell her.
2800 notes: I’ll try to talk to my crush in school. Small talk, okay? Nothing more. I’m so scared don’t make me do it-
3100 notes: I’ll finish reading Art Heist, Baby! (No. Please.)
~
I won’t be tagging anyone because y’all are insane and I’ll be forced to keep my promises… sigh
ONLY TWO NOTES PER PERSON!!! Edit: Yup only 2 notes. Can y’all tell I really don’t wanna do all this lol
DOBT MAKE MUNOIST GET TO 2800 BECAISE I DONT WANT TO DO WHAT MY FROEMD WANST ME TO DO AJSHSJSJSJ
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claw-deen · 2 years ago
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with a black cat variant s/o (genderneutral!reader):
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miles would be like “no! stealing is wrong! 😤 but they look so cool while doing it tho 😩” his mind would be so confused, because yeah you're stealing, but only from rich people and he heard rumors about black cat helping people on the streets. one day he used his invisibility power to spy on you during one of your heist, he could have stopped you a hundred times that day, but he didn't. he might have developed the tiniest crush on you.
gwen thinks that you're the coolest person alive. yeah stealing is wrong, but she honestly doesn't care at all lol. as long as you're not hurting anyone you can rob as many rich people as you want she won't stop you. sometimes you meet on rooftops at night and often end up teaming up with her to defeat some bad guys, then you watch the sunrise together while chatting about your lives.
pavitr is suspicious of you at first, he understands that you're not a threat to the people he protects but he doesn't treat you like an ally either. he kept his distance from you until the day you saved his life; now he trusts you entirely and he likes to do his night shifts in your company. he knows you won't like it but he's very worried about you and your illegal activity, he'd rather have you doing vigilante work with him.
hobie is a big fan. he heard about you as someone who stole the rich to give to the poor and he was like “slay.” he's the one who came to you during one of your heists and asked you to team up with him. now you, pavitr and hobie want to rob museums to return all the stolen objects to their people. hobie admires you a lot, like gwen, he thinks you're the coolest person he ever met and coming from him, that means a lot.
GUYS I CAN ALREADY SEE THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS FICS COMING IN miguel wants to see you as nothing more than another enemy, he really wants to, but it's such a difficult task when you're helping people with the money of your robberies and you're looking so good while doing it too. he tried to stop you on multiple occasions, but every time he was about to put an end to your crimes something in his mind made him fail. for now you two will keep playing that cat and mouse game, well, cat and spider game, but one day you'll have to kiss him on the mouth, that'll calm him down.
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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 1 month ago
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The Cat Burglar's Heist (M)
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★ PAIRING: Ceo!Jaehyun x Cat Burglar! Reader
☆ WORD COUNT: 19.6k (sorry TT)
★ GENRE(S): Fluff, smut, angst, drama, strangers to lovers.
☆ SUMMARY: When you attempt to rob a wealthy businessman, things don't go as planned. Instead of calling the police, he offers you a job. Now, you're left uncertain about whether you can truly start anew or if your past will come back to haunt you.
★ ☆ WARNINGS: explicit sex, unprotected sex, minor character death, loneliness, theft
☆★ NOTES: probably gonna be my last fic for awhile so enjoy!
People might call you a pickpocket, a burglar, a larcenist, or a simple thief. Whatever the label, it didn’t matter to you; you always slipped away unnoticed. You never hit the same neighborhood twice, always staying light on your feet and never lingering too long in one place. There was only one rule you lived by.
Don't Get Caught.
Maintaining a low profile was essential whenever you scouted a new neighborhood. As the sun beat down, you strolled through the area with a dog at your side, scanning for the easiest target. The shades you wore partially concealed your identity while shielding your eyes from the scorching sun. Your friend’s dog trotted happily beside you, blissfully unaware of the role it played in your plan. If your friend found out you were using his beloved pet as cover for your schemes, he would kill you. You had to keep this under wraps—after all, your friends were all you had. Stealing was the only way you could keep pace with the lifestyle your friend enjoyed.
You refused to be left behind, so the money you made from stealing became your lifeline for fitting in. Each successful job meant another night out, another round of drinks, and another chance to blend seamlessly into your friend group’s lavish lifestyle. You had built your world around them, and you’d do anything to keep up appearances, even if it meant walking a dangerous line.
Daegal fit right in with the neighborhood, his designer leash and collar catching the sunlight. You wandered deeper into one of the city's wealthiest enclaves, surrounded by towering trees that served as natural barriers for the sprawling estates. Luxury cars glimmered in driveways, while some homes flaunted their riches with intricate architectural designs that spoke of unspoken fortunes.
As you walked, Daegal suddenly slowed his pace, his nose twitching at the approaching scent of another dog. You felt your palms grow clammy around the leash; the fewer people who noticed you, the better. You were keenly aware of the risks, and any unwanted attention could spell trouble.
The older lady, her silver hair gleaming in the afternoon sun, approached with her fluffy Pomeranian in tow. A wave and a smile erupted from her, directed toward Daegal, and you cursed under your breath. The last thing you needed was a conversation.
The two dogs tilted their heads, inspecting one another with the calm demeanor that only well-trained pets possess. You could feel her gaze on you, and you forced a tight smile onto your face, betraying none of your rising anxiety.
Wonderful!
"He's so cute! What's his name?" you ask politely, forcing a bright smile.
"His name is Prince, but the kids call him Pudding," the older woman replies with a hearty laugh.
You let a small chuckle escape your lips. "How adorable!"
"And what about this handsome fella?" she inquires, her eyes sparkling with warmth.
“His name?” Your mind races, almost short-circuiting. "He's… Fluffy!” you say, trying to keep your voice steady and convincing.
You know rich people have more connections than they do money, and there's a good chance she could be linked to your friend Chenle somewhere down the line. It’s safer to spin a little tale.
"Well, he's quite the charmer! I'm sure he’s brought you many joys," she continues, obliviously cheerful, while tension coils tighter in your veins. “It’s a pleasure to have you in the neighborhood! Someone as young and pretty as you would fit right in!” Her compliment catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly at her kind words.
“Thanks!” you reply quickly, hoping to deflect attention from the flush creeping up your face. "I love it here."
She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, about a month ago, this really young CEO moved in just a block down. He's a bit too young for me, but my goodness, he’s quite the sight," she said, laughing heartily as she swatted her hand playfully, as if sharing a scandalous secret.
Rich people thrived on gossip, and you realized you didn't have to say much for her to fill you in on exactly what you wanted to know.
"A man like that has to be tied down, right?" you asked, bending down to pet her dog.
"From what I’ve heard, he lives alone," she said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Apparently, he works all the time. Word is, he comes home late every night. My husband says he drives an Aston Martin."
Bingo
"Thanks for the heads-up about the neighborhood hottie, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now," you joked, lightly chuckling to keep the conversation light. Just then, Daegal began to fidget, sensing your restlessness, and you took it as your cue to leave. "I’ll see you around, okay?"
As you walked a block down, your heart raced when you spotted a sleek black Aston Martin parked in a long driveway. The houses in this neighborhood were enormous. Although the properties weren’t far apart; the homes were set back from the road, mostly hidden by towering trees that provided an extra layer of privacy.
A young CEO who lives alone and works late.
You mentally sifted through the details you had gleaned from your earlier conversation. He was the perfect target.
Rich people were easy targets. Their homes, adorned with elaborate security measures, falsely reassured them of safety; all it did was signal that they had something worth taking. The flashy yard signs proclaiming "This home is under surveillance by _" told you their security company, which then told you the equipment they used. It wasn't hard to figure out how to disable it from there.
It had been a week since you first gathered your intel. Through careful observation, you had mapped out a schedule for when the house was empty and discovered how to bypass the alarm system. You’d managed to catch glimpses of the homeowner from a distance. The rumors were true; he carried himself with a confidence that only added to his undeniable charm.
Tonight was the night you would make your move. Clad in a black hoodie and sweatpants, you pull your bag over your shoulder and approach the perimeter of the house. Your heart was racing with adrenaline. You navigated the landscape smoothly, well aware of the blind spots in the security cameras. Timing was critical; every second counted.
You pressed yourself against the side of the window, heart pounding as you carefully peeked through the curtain. The green light on the alarm system by the door confirmed it wasn’t armed. This was a stroke of luck. According to your calculations, he should still be at work, and it appeared he had rushed out without arming the system.
You hesitated briefly, knowing this part was your least favorite. Breaking a window was always an awkward and potentially noisy affair. No matter how silent you tried to be, it was impossible to avoid the sound entirely. Taking a deep breath, you picked up a nearby rock, and with a swift, calculated strike, you shattered the glass.
The clatter echoed in the stillness, sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins, but you quickly reminded yourself to keep moving. You reached inside and unlocked the window, then climbed through carefully, stepping over the brittle shards that crunched beneath your feet as they scattered onto the plush carpet.
You found yourself in an open den, its decor exuding wealth and taste. Valuable paintings adorned the walls—masterpieces, maybe—but nothing small enough to pocket. You needed to keep going, focusing on finding something worthwhile.
Peeking your head out of the room, you scanned the hallway. Silence enveloped the house, amplifying the sound of your racing heartbeat. No sign of any pets, which was a relief. You made your way toward the primary areas, passing under the large winding staircase that commanded attention in the center of the home.
The layout seemed to follow suit with luxury; hallways branched off to what you assumed were the kitchen and living spaces. The primary room was likely upstairs, but there were many drawers and cabinets you could check on this level. Eager to find where the real valuables might be stashed, you decided to take a brief look around before venturing up the staircase. You shuffled quietly down the hall.
You glanced into a few rooms—one vast space was styled as a study, filled with leather-bound books and expensive-looking gadgets. A quick search through the drawers revealed a few electronic devices you could easily pocket. Moving on, you turned towards the kitchen, where gleaming countertops hinted at a lifestyle of lavish dinners and entertaining guests.
You couldn’t imagine why he would ever need a home this large if he lived alone; the sprawling floor plan was almost excessive. Each room you passed seemed to hold its own story, yet they stood untouched, as if waiting for guests that would never arrive. The formal dining room sported an enormous mahogany table, set for a feast that would never happen, and the living room boasted a grand piano that echoed a silent invitation to a party long forgotten. The atmosphere felt eerie, the elaborate decor clashing with the emptiness—like a stage set for a play that had never opened.
Your eyes darted toward the staircase. The rich wooden banister glimmered in the ambient light, inviting you to explore the secrets that lay above. You took a deep breath and ascended carefully. As you reached the landing, you spotted a door at the end of the hallway slightly ajar, the flicker of a light spilling into the dim corridor.
When you enter the room, the sweet aroma of cologne lingered in the air like a ghost, a faint reminder of its owner. The sheer magnitude of the space left you speechless. Adrenaline surged through your veins, propelling you forward to the side tables flanking the expansive bed. There, you quickly spotted a discarded high-end watch, its polished surface glimmering in the light. Alongside it lay a selection of intricate rings, each one whispering tales of luxury and allure.
As you rifled through the drawers, your fingers brushed against something solid—a wallet. You opened it, and your eyes immediately fell on the ID card nestled inside.
Jung Jaehyun 02/14/1997
Beneath the ID, you found a stack of credit cards and a few loose bills, all waiting to be claimed. You quickly slipped the wallet into your pocket. You approached the closet, and a gasp escaped your lips as the sight hit you—it resembled a mini-designer store. Expensive shoes, luxurious clothes, and shimmering jewelry lined the walls and shelves, all begging to be claimed. You wasted no time, swiftly swiping rings, watches, chains, and even a pair of stunning shoes, each item adding to the growing bounty in your backpack.
As you rummaged through the treasures, something caught your eye: a safe tucked behind a row of suits. Intrigued, you pushed the garments aside to inspect the lock. Cracking your neck, you glanced at the time—plenty of hours remained before he would return.
Just then, you heard footsteps outside the closet, and your heart dropped. You instinctively moved to hide behind the rack of suits, heart pounding in your ears.
“What the fuck?” A voice sliced through the silence, unmistakably belonging to the man you had been eyeing all week.
You held your breath, peering through the fabric. The hope flickered that he might just turn away and call the police, giving you a chance to slip out unnoticed. But instead, he stepped further into the closet, and your heart raced as you caught your first glimpse of him up close..
His hair glistened with moisture, and he wore nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still cascading down his skin, the steam from his shower enveloping him like a shroud. You had never seen him this close before, and the image was seared into your memory. He looked as if he had been sculpted from stone by the most masterful artist, every muscle defined, every feature striking.
His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the chaos—the discarded clothes on the floor, the missing racks of jewelry, the disarray of his closet. An annoyed sigh escaped his lips, and just as he seemed ready to turn away and leave, his gaze locked onto your hiding spot.
A jolt of panic shot through you, and you instinctively jumped back, trying to press yourself further into the fabric of the clothes. You held your breath, heart racing, as he took a step closer, eyes narrowing in suspicion. It was a moment of vulnerability and danger, a breathless standoff between the two of you.
Don't get caught
His steps were cautious as he approached, each footfall echoing in the silence of the closet. One hand gripped his towel tightly, clearly trying to maintain his modesty, while the other reached out hesitantly toward the clothes.
If it came to it, you knew you would have to fight him off and make a run for it, but with each passing second, you realized just how difficult that would be. He was built solidly and his height towered over you, casting an imposing shadow.
What if he got his hands on you? The thought sent a wave of dread through you. There would be no escaping him then.
Fuck
In a surge of adrenaline, you dashed out from your hiding spot, heart racing. His eyes widen in surprise as you rush past him, but the exhilaration of your escape was short-lived. Just a few feet away, you felt a sudden tug on your backpack that yanked you backwards.
You hit the floor with a thud, groaning as the impact jolted through you. Before you could recover, you felt a strong grip pinning you down, his hand firm against your shoulders. Panic set in, and you thrashed against his hold, fighting to break free, but he was unyielding.
As your struggle continued, exhaustion began to creep in. The fight drained from you, and you finally stopped, staring up at the man who had you pinned beneath him. His wet hair hung down over you, droplets cascading down onto your face.. His stern eyes bore into yours—there was an intensity that made your breath hitch, a mix of disbelief and something else entirely.
"Let me go!" you demanded, though your voice came out weaker than you intended. If it weren't for the predicament you found yourself in, you would have been unable to stop your wandering eyes. The towel around his waist was precariously close to slipping, a detail that, in ordinary circumstances, might have made you blush. But now, survival instincts prevailed over all else.
“If you try to run, I’ll call the cops,” he said matter-of-factly, and the gravity of his threat sent a chill down your spine.
A beat passed, your heart pounding in your chest, and finally, you nodded, conceding to the reality of the situation. There was no escape now; he had you right where he wanted you.
He released his grip on you and pulled himself off the floor, adjusting his towel. “Back to the closet, now,” he commanded, and you shuffled reluctantly back into the space that had formerly felt enticing but was now suffocating.
As you stepped in, you found yourself standing in front of the center island, where the glimmer of jewels had once laid. He followed you, shutting the door behind him, his body leaning against it like a barrier between you and freedom.
“Is everything you took in that bag?” He asked, his tone even, but there was an undertone of curiosity mixed with authority.
With a heavy heart, you hung your head and nodded, pulling your backpack off your shoulders and placing it on the floor in front of you. You could almost feel the weight of the stolen items pressing down on your conscience. You'd had visions of making thousands selling his valuables, the thrill of your heist driving you forward. But now, in the dim light of the closet, remorse washed over you like a tide.
“I’m really sorry, I—” you started, the words stumbling from your lips. What could you possibly say in a situation like this? Sorry, I almost stole a fortune from you? It felt absurd, but you didn't know how to express the chaos swirling within you.
He moved closer, looming over you as his intent gaze seemed to dissect every part of your being. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt small beneath his scrutiny. When he reached down, you thought he was about to pick up his possessions. But instead, he grabbed a discarded pair of sweats, and you felt a rush of a different kind of embarrassment as he stood up straight, his towel dropping to the ground. You instinctively looked away, sparing him what felt like an invasion of privacy.
Once he was dressed, he stepped back out of the closet, leaving you with a mix of relief and confusion. "Straighten this up, then come see me. Bring that bag and everything you tried to take with you," he ordered.
You swallowed hard. “Where are you going? Are you going to call the cops?”
Your mind raced with possibilities—how clever would he be if he made you tidy up while the police were on their way?
“Do as I say and you will have nothing to worry about," he replied, and there was an edge to his voice. "I don't like messes; clean that up before I change my mind."
Frustration mingled with a strange sense of gratitude. You were infuriated that he was ordering you around like a subordinate, yet the alternative—a police record—loomed much larger in your mind. Why wasn’t he calling the cops?
Taking a deep breath, you began to survey the mess you had made in your frantic attempt to bag his stuff.
It took you at least an hour to set everything back in its rightful place. You meticulously reorganized the jewelry, aligning necklaces and bracelets, smoothing over the disarray you'd caused. You busied yourself with invisible tasks afterward, finding solace in the repetitive act of pretending to straighten his shoes for the fifth time. Avoiding the inevitable confrontation with him was becoming a game of denial.
“I know you’re done; come here,” he commanded, and you froze for a moment. Biting your lip to gather your thoughts, you hesitantly grabbed your bag and stepped out into his room. He was seated on the massive California king bed, an imposing figure that radiated a mix of authority and casual dominance. Leaning back against his hands, he looked every bit like a king surveying his domain, and the sight sent a fresh wave of nerves through you.
“I know it probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but again, I’m really sorry,” you said, forcing the words out as you handed him the bag.
He took the bag from your grasp without much acknowledgment, his focus elsewhere. “Sit down,” he instructed.
You shifted uncomfortably, the anxiety bubbling to the surface. What more could he possibly want from you? He had said he would let you go, hadn’t he? “Sit where?” You looked around the spacious room, taking in the lack of chairs or any other furniture that might serve as a place for you to perch.
He finally lifted his gaze, his hair still damp from the shower, falling into his eyes. “Sit on your knees, right there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the floor in front of him.
You bristled at the command, a mix of confusion and indignation flooding through you. Kneeling before him felt like a submission you had not anticipated, and despite the gravity of your earlier actions, you hesitated to comply with his demands.
“I—" you stammered, trying to find the right words, but nothing came out that didn't sound foolish or defiant.
Seeing your hesitation, his expression shifted slightly, a mixture of patience and something else in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. "You can either sit down like I asked, or we can have a much longer discussion about how this is going to go," he suggested, his tone low but firm, setting the stage for whatever decision you had to make next.
Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the floor, feeling the cool surface beneath your knees, and looked up at him, preparing for whatever was to come next.
He reached behind him and pulled out his phone, an unmistakable sense of dread washing over you as he dug into your bag, retrieving the stolen items one by one. Each piece felt like another nail in your coffin.
He was definitely calling the cops TT
But instead of pressing the call button, he seemed to be calculating something. “$532,724,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.
Your throat tightened at the reality of that number. You were going to jail. Panic bubbled in your chest, and you fought the urge to cry.
He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident on his face. “Let’s see how well you clean up,” he said, standing up and ushering you back toward the closet with a wave of his hand.
You stared at him, your heart pounding as his eyes scanned the confines of the closet where you'd made sure to return everything to its original place. His expression was unreadable at first, a blank canvas that made fear swirl in your stomach. But then it softened, surprising you further.
“Not bad. What’s your name?” He asked, his tone almost casual.
You swallowed hard before nervously answering, “Y/N.”
“How would you like a job, Y/N?”
Your eyebrows shot up, and your jaw dropped in disbelief. This had to be a sick joke. “Excuse me? I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following,” you stammered, incredulous.
“You will work for me to pay off the debt that you owe,” he replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Wait, I didn’t actually take anything!” You argued, your mind racing to process his proposal.
“But you tried,” he shrugged, his casual demeanor shifting to something more serious. “It’s about principle. You made a choice, and now you have to make it right.”
“Are you seriously saying I have to work for you to pay off half a million dollars?” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a mix of indignation and disbelief gripping you.
“I could always call the police,” he said lightly, but the weight of his words sunk in with more gravity than you expected.
“Whoa now, no one said I wouldn't help,” you laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood but failing to shake the anxiety coiling within you.
“Great! You start tomorrow. Come in business attire,” he said with a yawn, as if he were sending you off to a regular job rather than a complicated arrangement born out of desperation.
You turned to follow him out, not sure why you're trying so hard to argue him down “Wait, wha—”
Suddenly, a bright flash burst in front of you, and you stumbled backward, temporarily blinded. You blink a few times, trying to regain your bearings. “Ow! What was that for?” you exclaimed, rubbing your eyes.
He smirked as he lowered his phone, the camera still pointed at you. “If you try to run, I’ll post this picture online and tell the world what you’ve done. Then I’ll hand it over to the police so they can track you down.” His gaze was icy as he scrutinized you, taking in every detail. “I have the resources to find you. Don’t make me have to look for you.”
You felt a mix of anger and fear bubble up inside you. “So you’re blackmailing me?” you huff.
“I’m giving you a second chance,” he corrected, his tone slipping back into that unsettling calmness. He stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with a surprisingly firm grip. “8 a.m. tomorrow. Now get out.”
Before you could respond, he gave you a gentle push by your shoulders, urging you toward the staircase. You stumbled slightly but regained your footing. As you made your way down the stairs and out of his house, Your circumstances settled squarely on your shoulders. He wasn’t just a thief of your freedom; he was now your employer, your keeper—at least for the foreseeable future.
He walked with you to the front door, his face a mix of annoyance and curiosity. Just as he was about to close the door in your face, he paused and turned back. “How did you get in?” he quirked a brow.
A small, nervous smile crept onto your lips as you fumbled for an explanation. “Uh, I broke a window,” you admitted.
Jaehyun regards you with an unimpressed stare.
“I’ll clean it up tomorrow!” you added, trying to lighten the mood. “Heh… add it to my bill?”
The door slammed shut in your face, the sound echoing in the cool night air. You turned away from the door and took a few steps down the front path, your mind racing.
The situation was certainly absurd.
You roll out of bed at 6 a.m. with a groan, the early morning light cutting through your curtains. You’ve never been a morning person, and the thought of facing the day fills you with dread. After washing up, you slip into an outfit that fits the dress code he set for you—a blend of professional and approachable that feels foreign against your skin.
As you glance at your reflection in the mirror, a fleeting thought crosses your mind: what if you just ran away? With the money you’ve saved up, you could leave everything behind and start anew.
Dont make me find you.
His words echo ominously in your head, sending a shiver down your spine. Jaehyun was an enigma; you could hardly wrap your mind around him, but one thing was clear: he had the resources to track you down, wherever you might try to escape.
You gather your things and head out. When you finally arrive and buzz through the gate surrounding his property, it feels surreal to be walking through the front door. Just a day ago, you’d been climbing over his fence and breaking windows—now you were entering as if you belonged.
As Jaehyun lets you inside, you take in the surroundings anew. The sunlight floods the foyer of his mansion, revealing the space you'd barely noticed in your previous haste.
“Stop gawking. I’ll be back down in a bit; I need to finish getting ready. Go clean up the glass you broke,” he commands coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument as he strides back upstairs. His words and the task ahead settle over you as you prepare to face the mess you made, both physically and metaphorically.
“StOp GawKinG….gO CleAn Up thA GlasS,” you mumble under your breath when he’s out of earshot.
You roll your eyes at his cold demeanor, dismissing it as you head toward the den where you had sneaked in during your last visit. Peeking into the room, you’re greeted by a messy carpet littered with shards of glass. At least the window has been boarded up now. As the daylight streams in, you start to appreciate the paintings that line the walls, each one vibrant and expressive in its own right.
One piece catches your attention more than the others—a striking red canvas that emanates an intense energy. The angry strokes twist together in a way that’s both chaotic and mesmerizing, leaving you to ponder what the artist was trying to convey. As you peer closely, you can’t help but notice the name “Jung Jaehyun” inked subtly in one corner. Your gaze travels around the room, noticing the easel and paints tucked away in the corner; it dawns on you that this isn’t just a display but his workspace. The hard wood beneath your feet breaks the carpeted expanse, revealing about a third of the room transformed into an art studio. Impressed by his talent, you find yourself captivated, the earlier tension momentarily forgotten as you admire the skill behind the chaos.
You shake yourself out of the trance, the allure of the art momentarily fading as you remind yourself of your task. You need to find a vacuum and a trash bin—cleaning up that glass is a priority. Determined, you set off through the rest of the house.
You remember stumbling upon the cleaning closet during your earlier escapades, and you make your way back to it. As you wander, a sense of loneliness hangs in the air, and your suspicions about Jaehyun’s solitary lifestyle only deepen. There was no waitstaff, no other residents—just him in this grand mansion.
You finally locate the vacuum in the cleaning closet, and with the trash bin in hand, you retrace your steps back to the art studio. You kneel on the floor, methodically clean up the shards of glass and place the larger pieces into the bin. You finish cleaning just in time for Jaehyun to come back downstairs.
He fixes the cufflinks on his suit before grabbing his keys. “What else should I tidy up for you? Is there a list somewhere?” You ask.
Jaehyun gives you a puzzled look. “You’re coming with me,” he replies.
You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “I thought I was…" You trail off.
He lets out a laugh, one that surprises you—it's light and genuine, completely at odds with his usual demeanor. His eyes crinkle up, revealing warm dimples that you find surprisingly charming in that moment. “You thought you were going to be doing housework?”
You roll your eyes. “Well, what else is there for me to do?”
His expression becomes more serious, though the hint of a playful smile still lingers. “I said I had a job for you, and I meant it. Come on.” He opens the door for you, locking the house behind him with a click.
As you both walk toward his car, you can’t help but ask, “Where was your car yesterday?” Strapping yourself in, you feel a mix of bitterness and curiosity about how you ended up getting caught snooping—you really should have paid more attention. If his car had been parked outside, you’d have known he was home.
“It was in the shop,” he replies casually, turning the key in the ignition. “I needed new rims. Have you eaten yet?”
Your stomach growls audibly, and you nod in agreement and Jaehyun stops to get breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked biscuits fills the car as he orders.
As he goes to pay, you watch him rummage through his pockets, brow furrowing in frustration. It’s then that you feel a pang of guilt. You had meant to return his wallet, found tucked away in your pocket after your first encounter. Nervously, you pull it out and offer it to him, trying to lighten the moment. “Whoops, how’d that get in there?” You joke lightly, but when you glance up, you notice the glare he’s giving you.
“Seriously?” he replies.
You stutter out an apology as you take a cautious bite of your biscuit, almost choking when you see where he’s pulled into next. Your eyes widen as you take in the imposing tall building—it’s sleek and modern, with huge glass windows reflecting the bustling streets of downtown. The heart of the city is alive, and your heart races with both excitement and nerves.
Jaehyun turns to you, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Surprised? I did say I had a job for you.”
“Uh, I thought we were just going to tidy up at home?” you say, trying to mask your nerves.
As you walk through the lobby beside Jaehyun, you can't help but notice the stares that follow you. Heads turn, whispers flit around as employees greet him warmly. "Good morning, Mr. Jung!" They say, beaming at him with admiration. When their gaze finally shifts to you, you catch a mix of confusion and curiosity on their faces. It’s both flattering and mildly embarrassing standing next to someone so well-regarded and polished. You try to maintain your composure, forcing a smile in response, even as you feel a bit out of place.
After navigating through the maze of cubicles and glass-walled offices, you finally enter Jaehyun's office—spacious, elegantly designed, with a view that overlooks the bustling city streets. The decor is smart and sophisticated, reflecting his professional persona. Once the door clicks shut behind you, Jaehyun makes his way over to his desk to settle into for the day.
Jaehyun leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looks at you with a serious expression. “You’re going to be my secretary,” he states plainly.
Your mouth drops open in surprise. “Wait, what? A secretary?” The idea is almost absurd. “Isn’t that a bit… much? I mean, you do realize I’m not exactly qualified for that, right?”
“I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Plus, it’ll pay way better than doing house chores.”
With a deep breath, you straighten your posture, letting determination creep in. “Whats there to lose?”
Being Jaehyun's secretary meant answering his calls, scheduling meetings, and running errands. Of course you could do those tasks… you just couldn't do them well.
A little desk had been set up in Jaehyun's office, where most of your day-to-day tasks took place. His office boasted expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city. At night, the bustling streets below transformed into a magical landscape, with streetlights, headlights, and stoplights twinkling like stars.
You couldn’t help but blame the close proximity of your workspaces for your increasing difficulty with even the simplest tasks, like getting his coffee order right.
You had brought him his morning coffee, like he asked. You still hadn't gotten used to running his errands in his car. You felt so out of place at the office and the whispers and curious glances from your “coworkers” only heightened your anxiety.
When you finally brought him the morning coffee he had requested, your heart raced with hope for approval. But as he took a sip, his focus remained elsewhere, and he set the cup down without meeting your eyes. “It’s wrong, but you’ll get it right next time,” he said, casually brushing off your mistake. “There's plenty of time for you to improve.”
You bit your lip, anxious to prove that you could handle this role. You didn’t want to be seen as a screw-up, but everything felt overwhelming lately. Jaehyun shoos you away, giving you a task to retrieve printed papers from the printer. Your mind was a flurry of thoughts as you returned, but when you stumbled slightly, you fumbled the stack of papers in your hands.
As the papers fall from your grasp, you accidentally knock over a coffee cup, sending the contents spilling across the desk. The dark liquid splashed over papers, pooling on the surface.
Heart racing, you froze, staring at the mess you had just created. “Oh no!” you exclaimed, scrambling to grab napkins from the nearby drawer, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Just breathe,” he said, reaching over to help you clean up the spill. “How do you call yourself a cat burglar with how clumsy you are?” Jaehyun asked, the bemused look on his face suggesting he genuinely wanted to know.
The napkins did little to absorb the liquid, and you could feel the heat seeping through, burning your fingertips. You let out a small wince, instinctively pulling your hand back. Jaehyun sighed at your reaction, and you flicked your wrist in an attempt to shake off the pain while still trying to contain the mess.
“Just hold on,” you muttered to yourself, picking up his laptop and elevating it to protect it from the potential disaster. The last thing you needed was to add an expensive repair bill to the debt you already owed him.
As you awkwardly juggled multiple items that had once laid neatly on his desk, trying to salvage the situation, you suddenly noticed Jaehyun stand up. He took off his suit jacket and, before you could protest, he used it to mop up the spilled coffee.
You gasped as the coffee splashed onto his jacket, but Jaehyun seemed completely unfazed. With purposeful strides, he walked over to you and gently took the items you were juggling, placing them down safely on a part of his desk that wasn’t sticky. Without a word, he grasped your hands, examining your fingers, which were twitching from the pain and already showing signs of red irritation from the hot liquid.
He blew softly on your fingertips, and for a moment, the world around you faded as you met his gaze. The warmth in his chocolate depths almost pulled you in, but before you could lose yourself in that moment, you quickly pulled away.
“I’ll go grab a towel. That’s going to make the wood sticky,” you stammered, turning quickly to leave, your cheeks burning from the tension that hung between you.
You hurried to the bathroom, running cool water over your fingers to soothe the slight burn. Leaning against the edge of the sink, you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. After a moment, you gathered a few items from the cleaning closet, bracing yourself for what lay ahead.
As you walked back, you passed the break room and inadvertently overheard a conversation that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.
“She’s probably sleeping with him. Mr. Jung has never taken on a secretary before,” one voice whispered.
“That’s what I heard. Not to mention she’s terrible at her job. She just gets in the way. Last week she accidentally printed 300 copies of a page because she didn’t know to hit the cancel button! We ran out of ink because of her, and now I have to go downstairs for my copies until a new order comes in!” another voice chimed in, laced with irritation.
You bristled at their accusations, knowing they were talking about you. It stung, but you pressed on, scurrying past and heading back to Jaehyun’s office. After giving a soft knock, you stepped inside.
Jaehyun had moved away from his desk, now seated on the couch in the corner of his office. He was typing away on his computer, still nursing the little coffee he had left that you had brought him earlier—a cup you knew he didn’t like, judging by the face he made when he first tasted it. His sleeves were rolled up, the tie discarded on the armrest, and the first button of his shirt was undone.
You tried not to stare, focusing instead on the mess at his desk. Moving over, you began cleaning up the sticky residue left by the spilled coffee.
“Excuse me,” you clear your throat. “Is it okay if I drop this off at the cleaners?” you asked, holding up his soiled jacket.
He didn’t look up from his screen, continuing to type away on his computer. “Go ahead, but please be careful,” he replied, pulling his keys from his pocket without sparing you a glance.
“That’s okay; I can just walk. There’s one not too far from here,” you said, attempting to dismiss the need to take his car.
Finally, he looked up at you, his brow slightly furrowed. “You never had a problem with driving my car before. Did something happen?” He asked, setting his laptop aside, his focus entirely on you.
“Well, no, I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea. I mean, I just kinda showed up out of nowhere and suddenly I’m moving into your office and driving your car,” you tried to explain, feeling your anxiety spike. “No one knows why I’m really here, and I can only imagine the types of things people are imagining.”
“What kind of things could they be imagining?” He replied, staring at you blankly.
You laugh at the statement but when you realize he's not being sarcastic, your face drops. You often wonder what kind of person Jaehyun was and what he did for fun. He always seemed to be looking at the world for the first time.
"Well,” you began, gathering your thoughts. “Imagining the types of things I would’ve had to do to get this job,” you said, hoping he would fill in the blanks.
He waited quietly, eyes steady on you, prompting you to continue. “Things like sleeping with you to get this job,” you finally admitted, your heart racing as you vocalized the thought.
Jaehyun's eyes widened, and you noticed his ears reddening, making you wonder if he truly hadn’t known about the whispers circulating around the office. Clearing his throat, he seemed to collect himself.
“You don’t need to worry about things like that,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t want you being gone long. Take the car, and if anyone has something to say, they can come to me about it.”
His gaze was stern, the kind that made you feel as though challenging him would be futile. You could sense the protective edge in his words, and it surprised you. There was a part of you that appreciated his willingness to shield you from the gossip. “Okay, if you insist,” you replied, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. The gesture felt surprisingly comforting. “I’ll be quick.”
He seemed to relax a little at your compliance, his expression softening. “Thank you. And, uh, drive safely,” he added, almost shyly.
As you walked to the car, you found yourself reflecting on his words. Maybe it was time to focus on proving yourself here, to rise above the whispers and make your mark in the company. Regardless of how you came to be in this position, you were determined to show them—and yourself—that you were worth it.
Ever since that day, when you arrived at the office, the halls were silent, and no one stared at you and Jaehyun as you walked side by side.. The building buzzed along like usual. You were relieved. Your shoulders felt lighter in the absence of judgmental glances, and instinctively, you walked a little straighter, head held high, eyes forward rather than downcast.
As you entered Jaehyun's office, you set your things down at the little desk he had allotted for you, diving into your daily routine of answering emails and organizing his meetings. You found your rhythm quickly, the morning shift feeling productive as you ticked off tasks. The sound of your typing filled the room, creating a comforting background noise.
Halfway through the shift, you stretched your arms overhead, stifling a yawn. Out of curiosity, you peeked over at Jaehyun to see how he was faring. He had leaned back in his chair, his neatly combed hair falling over his closed eyes, looking surprisingly peaceful in the soft glow of sunlight streaming in through the window. The light danced around him, illuminating his desk, and for a moment, you couldn't help but admire how beautiful he looked.
Even after a month of working together, you still didn't know much about Jaehyun's personal life. You had gone over the basics: he lived alone, was single, and kept his family life largely private. Each interaction left you with more questions than answers, and you found yourself scratching your head at the blank spaces in your understanding of him.
You assumed that the high-ranking position had simply been handed down to him—a legacy passed through generations. But you had never heard any whispers about a preceding CEO or what led Jaehyun to take the helm.
Amidst the riddles, the only one you had solved was his coffee order: a no-foam skimmed latte with an extra shot, plus three drip coffees with room for milk. It was a peculiar detail to cling to, yet it felt like a small piece of Jaehyun you could call your own, a little insight he had unknowingly shared during your numerous morning coffee runs.
Your thoughts whirled as you watched him sleep, a wave of warmth washing over you. It was strange how quickly you had grown accustomed to his presence and how much you found yourself wanting to know about the man behind the polished façade. What did he do on weekends? What made him laugh? What were his dreams and aspirations beyond this office?
Suddenly, he’s awake and staring back at you, and you stop smiling, turning to busy yourself. You clear your throat. “You have a meeting at 3 PM,” you mention, making an excuse.
“Thank you,” he responds.
He yawns and cracks his neck before standing from his desk. “We should go grab something to eat before then.”
You don't expect him to take you halfway across town; normally, you just grab him something from the cafe down the street. A bit apprehensive, you worry about making it back on time with the traffic ahead.
Silence engulfs the car as it inches through the congestion. Jaehyun sits relaxed in his seat, his thumb tapping a rhythm against the steering wheel as he looks ahead. You decide to kill the time with some conversation.
“How do you manage living in that large house all by yourself?” you ask, trying to chip away at the silence.
Jaehyun shifts in his seat. “You get used to it, I suppose. It’s peaceful. Quiet.”
“Yeah, but don’t you ever feel lonely? I mean, it’s a huge place. I can’t imagine wandering through all those empty rooms.”
He pauses, eyes still on the road. “Loneliness is…relative. I find solace in my work. It distracts me.”
“But work can only fill so much, right? Everybody needs someone sometimes.”
“Not everyone has someone to lean on, A. Sometimes it’s easier to just…keep to yourself.” Jaehyun looks over.
“I get that. I guess I’ve been on my own for a while too. Never really had a stable family or anything. Just me and the streets.”
“So, what was it like? Living like that?” Jaehyun asks curiously.
“It was tough. You learn to be resourceful and to adapt. But it also gets exhausting.”
You had a rough upbringing; your parents were neglectful, and as soon as you turned 18, they kicked you out. You turned to the streets to get by, making connections with a few questionable figures, but they taught you what you needed to survive. Soon, you were taking care of yourself and hanging out with better crowds.
“Why don’t you talk about your family or friends? It feels like you’ve built up walls—like you’re living in that house, but you’re not really there,” you ask.
Jaehyun takes a deep breath, carefully choosing his words. “It’s complicated. I’ve lost people—friends, family… When you start at the top, it’s hard to trust anyone. Everyone has their own agenda.”
You wince slightly at his words; of course he didn’t open up to you. Trust issues are understandable, especially after you tried to rob him.
“Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith and give people a chance. You never know who they might turn out to be,” you suggest gently.
He pauses, letting your words linger in the air, before responding with a nod of acknowledgment. As traffic finally begins to move, you turn to look out the window, watching the world blur by.
Eventually, the car pulls into a cozy little bakery nestled on a side street. The overgrown greenery surrounding it gives the place a charming, almost hidden feel. A LED sign in the window brightens the words “Doughyoungs.” Stepping inside, a small bell chimes, and the delectable aroma of freshly baked bread wraps around you like a warm hug. Your mouth waters as you glance around.
The bakery is empty, but it exudes warmth and invites you further in. The display case is filled with tempting treats: crusty artisan breads, flaky croissants, colorful macarons, decadent cakes, and an assortment of cookies. Your heart feels lighter in this space; it seems like a hidden gem, the kind of place that just might feel like home.
“BE RIGHT WITH YOU!” a voice calls from the back of the shop. A tall man in a flour-dusted apron steps into the front room, wiping his hands on the fabric, a broad smile spreading across his face.
“Oh, Jaehyun! It’s been a while!” He steps closer, his tone filled with a sense of familiarity. “You brought a friend?”
You glance at the man’s name tag—Doyoung. It clicks; he must be the owner of the bakery.
“Yeah, this is my secretary, Y/N,” Jaehyun introduces, gesturing toward you. “And Y/N, this is Doyoung. He’s a good friend of mine.”
“His only friend,” Doyoung corrects with a playful wink before extending his hand toward you. “Nice to meet you!”
The three of you settle down at a small, round table in the corner of “Doughyoung’s,” sunlight streaming through the window and illuminating the inviting atmosphere. A warm plate of croissants sits in the center of the table as Doyoung pours steaming cups of coffee for you and Jaehyun.
You reach for a flaky croissant, the buttery aroma enveloping you. You’ve just met Doyoung, but your instant fondness for him grows as he recounts hilarious stories about Jaehyun, leaving you wiping a tear from the corner of your eye at one particularly embarrassing tale.
“How long have you two been friends?” you ask, still chuckling.
“We go way back to college,” Doyoung replies, a reminiscent smile on his face. “We were both fresh out of high school, and honestly, we couldn’t have been more different. He was this focused, ambitious guy trying to conquer the world, while I was just… well, trying to figure things out.”
You nod, picturing the difference between the two of them. “What about you?” Doyoung adds, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How did you manage to land such a serious guy as your boss?”
You stuff your mouth with croissants, desperately trying to think of an answer that isn’t a lie.
“Sorry to cut story time short, but I have a meeting at 3,” he says, finishing his coffee and rising to push in his chair. You follow suit, a little relieved that your escape has come so soon. Doyoung was kind and you couldn't bring yourself to lie to him, but you couldn't exactly tell him you had attempted to rob his best friend.
“It was really nice to meet you, Doyoung,” you wave goodbye, offering a genuine smile as you shuffle out after Jaehyun.
Doyoung smiles and waves as you leave, his infectious energy lingering in the air. The drive back is quiet, but this time, the silence feels different—more comfortable. The gentle hum of the engine and the sounds of the outside world fade into the background as you steal glances at Jaehyun, who remains focused on the road ahead.
Since you started working with Jaehyun, today was probably the first time that everything seemed to go your way. You even managed to finish your tasks early. As you straighten up your desk, gathering papers and tidying the space, you’re on your way out when he walks in, his expression curious.
“You’re leaving?” he asks, making his way toward his own desk.
“Yeah, I finished up early,” you reply, grabbing your bag. “I was just going to catch the bus home.”
He nods, pausing for a moment. “Did you organize that pile of paperwork I gave you?”
“All organized and labeled,” you confirm, a sense of pride swelling in your chest.
“What about that email I sent you to look over? Did you make sure everything was in order for that conference?”
“Done and scheduled,” you say, feeling accomplished.
Jaehyun looks like he wants to say something more, as if he’s searching for another reason to keep you there. “Well, if you’re finished, we can head out together,” he suggests, beginning to pack his briefcase.
“Are you sure?” you ask, a hint of hesitation in your voice. “If there’s something you need to finish up here, I don’t want to hold you back.”
“I can finish it at home,” he replies, already standing and heading toward the door.
You share a brief glance, and there’s something in his demeanor that tells you he genuinely wants your company. You can’t help but smile as you follow him outside.
When you get back to Jaehyun's house, you expect him to finally let you off the hook, but instead, he keeps you around a little longer. He finds minuscule tasks for you to do while he works in his study—organizing his files, dusting the bookshelf, separating his pens by color—anything to keep you in his office with him.
“Jaehyun,” you yawn, stretching your arms overhead. “I’ve done everything! I’ve even organized your books by the Dewey Decimal System. I think it’s time for me to head home.” You really don’t mind Jaehyun’s company at all; in fact, you enjoy being around him. Plus, every task you handle for him counts toward the debt you owe, but it’s getting late, and the last thing you want is for him to fuss about you driving home in the dark.
He glances around the room, searching for another task to assign you, but all he finds is a sigh of resignation. “Are you sure you don’t want to just stay over?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned. “There are plenty of rooms for you. It’s getting late, and you seem really tired. I don’t want you to fall asleep at the wheel.” He closes his laptop, giving you his full attention.
You think it over. Spending a night in his mansion feels like the opportunity of a lifetime. Staying here is akin to a luxury hotel experience. You weigh the pros and cons in your mind, but then a concern arises. “I don’t have any extra clothes,” you say.
“You can wear mine,” Jaehyun offers, and your face heats up at the prospect of slipping into one of his shirts—an oversized garment that would probably swallow you whole.
“I guess that would save me the commute of having to drive back over here in the morning.”
You can’t help but smile back, finding his stubbornness endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize he might be holding onto you not out of obligation but rather because he enjoys your company. After all, he’s been doing everything in his power to keep you around, perhaps because he is alone most of the time. You’d probably become the closest person to him after Doyoung.
"Well, if that's all, I'm going to go get in the shower,” you say.
“Ill meet you upstairs, I just want to finish this up,” he says
You head upstairs, navigating your way to Jaehyun's room with an ease that comes from having spent so much time in his space. You step into the bathroom connected to his room and turn on the shower, relishing the luxurious feel of the gold dual heads—it’s almost like being in a spa.
As the warm water envelops you, the stresses of the day wash away. The towels are fresh and warm as you step out, feeling utterly pampered. You can't help but marvel at the abundance of skincare products lined up on the counter, likely a key contributor to Jaehyun's flawless complexion. After cleansing your face and brushing your teeth with an unopened toothbrush you found in his bathroom pantry.
Peeking your head out of the bathroom door, you confirm that the coast is clear. With nothing but your towel wrapped around you, you make your way toward his closet. As you rummage through his clothes, memories flood back to the first time you were here—a completely different feeling, one of nerves and uncertainty. Little did you know that you’d be invited back as a guest, spending the night in his company.
Finally, you find a large shirt that looks incredibly comfortable and toss it over your head. Pairing it with some pajama pants that are a bit loose around your hips, you tie them with the strings, feeling cozy and at ease.
With a determined smile, you head back downstairs, wanting to say goodnight to Jaehyun. As you enter his study, though, you find him fast asleep, his head resting on a pile of documents. His hair is pushed back by a pair of glasses you haven't seen before, and you can't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes. You never realized how taxing it must be for him to carry the weight of the company on his shoulders.
Gently, you shake him awake. “Jaehyun, come on, let’s go to sleep,” you whisper softly.
His eyes open slowly, taking a moment to adjust as he rubs them and slides his glasses back on. Confusion flits across his face before recognition sets in, and he begins to put his things away, a little disorientedly, but it makes you chuckle lightly.
You watch him for a moment, your heart swelling with fondness. You wish you could do something to help him relax—an idea pops into your mind. “I’ll meet you upstairs, okay?” you say before darting back up the stairs.
You run a warm bath; you make sure to adjust the water to just the right temperature. Bubbles foam up and you lay out his clothes neatly on the counter—a clean, comfy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, paired with some fresh socks. The soft tune playing from a speaker fills the air, adding to the calming ambiance.
You hear the heavy footsteps of Jaehyun making their way up the stairs, and you work quickly, eager to ensure everything is perfect for him. When the door finally opens, he lumbers into the room, flopping onto the bed still clad in his work clothes.
“Come on, I ran you a bath,” you coax, gently taking off his glasses and tugging him up from the bed. His eyes are still closed, but he doesn’t resist, letting you guide him toward the bathroom.
“Your clothes are right here,” you say, pointing out the set you prepared for him. “Just let me know if you need anything.”
As you start to step away, eager to give him some privacy, he unexpectedly grabs your wrist. His grip is gentle yet firm, and he turns you back to face him. The air is thick with tension as he pushes you up against the sink.
“Help me undress,” he says sleepily, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes—a sight that makes your heart race. You’re practically chest to chest, and the proximity sends a rush of warmth to your cheeks.
Your face heats up and you find yourself a stuttering mess. Jaehyun seems to realize what his words imply “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying,” he fumbles, suddenly a little more awake. “Excuse me, I’m just really tired.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure him quickly, your cheeks ablaze. “I want to help you relax. I can do that.”
He looks down at you, and you briefly meet his gaze before you shyly avert your eyes. As your hands shake, you manage to unbutton his shirt one by one, the fabric parting to reveal flawless skin beneath. He stands there, shirt completely undone, his gaze holding a mixture of curiosity and something deeper. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you find yourself captivated by his happy trail, your knees feeling weak beneath you. Jaehyun’s hands gracefully move to his belt, taking charge of the moment. You watch, entranced, as he slowly removes it, each movement deliberate and inviting. Your heart races in your chest, a frantic drumbeat that drowns out the soft music still playing in the background. You could practically feel the air thickening between you—a magnetic pull that makes you want to fall to your knees for him—to surrender.
His belt clatters to the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet bathroom, but then a hand catches under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. You’re drawn into the depths of his eyes, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. “I’ve got it from here, thank you,” he says, his voice low and confident.
Reality crashes over you like a wave, pulling you back with a jolt. You process the situation: Jaehyun standing before you, his pants hanging loosely around his waist, his shirt sliding from his shoulders. Heat floods your cheeks.
In a rush, you scramble out of the bathroom, the words tumbling from your lips in a hurried mess. “R—right, I’ll be in the room across the hall. Good night, Jaehyun!” You don’t dare look back, your heart racing as you leave the bathroom, and you swear you hear a deep chuckle escape him, warm and teasing.
You slip into the bedroom across the hall, the plush bed feeling foreign and oddly comforting at the same time. You let out a heavy sigh, shaking off the feelings that swirled between you two.
The silence of the house wraps around you. It’s an odd comfort, yet it amplifies the sense of isolation that looms over you. You stare at the clock on the nightstand, ticking slowly towards the early hours of the morning. You toss and turn under the covers, unable to settle. Thoughts of Jaehyun haunt you—thoughts of the way he looked, the way he made you feel—the anticipation, the nervousness. You cover your face with the pillow in an attempt to silence your racing thoughts.
Suddenly, a soft but loud crash reverberates through the house, breaking the stillness. You sit upright, heart pounding in your chest. A sense of dread settles in as you carve your way through the shadows, crossing the hall to Jaehyun’s room.
“Jaehyun?” You call softly, knocking gently on the door, but it creaks open at your touch, revealing a scene that makes your breath hitch. Jaehyun is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking disheveled; his face pales from what you can only assume was a nightmare. There’s sweat glistening on his forehead, and you can see the stark tension in his shoulders.
“Hey, what happened?” You take a step in, closing the door behind you.
He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “I just—I had a nightmare. It’s nothing.” He waves you off, but you can see the unsteadiness in his demeanor.
“No, it’s not nothing,” you assert, walking closer. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You can talk to me.”
His eyes meet yours—a fleeting vulnerability. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” you say softly.
“I dreamed about… losing my family. It’s a nightmare I’ve had more times than I can count.” He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and you can see the pain that runs deep.
You quietly urge him on, your heart thrumming within your chest. “What happened?”
He swallows hard before continuing. “I used to live here, in this house, with my family. It was our summar home. Life was chaotic but… it was fun. My parents were always busy with the company, but they made time for us. Then…it just all fell apart.”
You can hear the tremor in his voice, the unsteady strength behind each word. “There was an accident,” he finally admits, his brow furrowing as if the very thought is a wound that never heals. “A car crash that took them away from me in an instant. I inherited everything. This houses the company and the money. Sometimes I feel like an imposter, like I’m not good enough for all of this. It helps that there are fewer memories here. Its emptier.”
Your heart aches for him, the stark reality of his loss weighing heavily in the air. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun,” you whisper, feeling a surge of compassion for the boy he once was. You couldn't imagine how alone he felt. The weight of an entire company thrust upon him at such a young age. You understand why he found it hard to let people in.
“It’s been years,” he continues, “but every now and then, I wake up in a cold sweat, feeling their absence like it was yesterday. Sometimes Its so bad I won't sleep at all.”
You step closer and sit beside him on the bed, your heart aching to comfort him. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself. It’s okay to talk about it. It’s okay to feel. You deserve to express that pain instead of bottling it up.”
You take a deep breath, the weight of your own past pressing against your chest. It feels only right to share your truth with Jaehyun now that he’s opened up about his own pain. “I get it, you know—feeling like you’re not enough. I felt that way growing up too,” you begin, your voice steady yet soft as you look into his eyes. “I didn’t have the stability of a family like yours. My parents were often absent, lost in their own world, and I was left to navigate everything on my own. I longed for connection.”
You pause, letting your words sink in. A part of you feels apprehensive, but telling your story also feels liberating. “I did meet some friends along the way. They were a bit snobby, but I loved them. They were everything I wanted to be—popular, carefree, surrounded by laughter. I wanted to fit in so badly that I was willing to do just about anything to be part of their world.”
Jaehyun nods, his gaze understanding as he absorbs your story. You take another breath, your heart racing slightly as you reveal more of your past. “I started to steal. Not just to survive, because there were times when I truly needed food, but mostly to impress them. To show them I could be just as cool, just as daring. Those friends were all I had, and I felt like I was grasping at straws. I never wanted to feel alone again.”
As you speak, you can see the pain in Jaehyun's eyes—he understands the need to connect, the lengths people go to feel accepted. “Most of the time, I felt like a fraud. Like I was pretending to be something I’m not. Their world wasn’t mine, but it was better than being alone. I guess in some way, I thought being with them would fill the emptiness, but it never did.”
“I know what it feels like to wear a mask,” he says, his tone gentle yet earnest. “It’s exhausting isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” you reply, a small but relieved smile creeping onto your face. “But sharing it feels freeing. I think that’s why I wanted to tell you. Seeing you so vulnerable made me realize that maybe it’s okay to let myself be seen, too.”
Jaehyun reaches out, tentatively placing his hand over yours. It’s a small gesture, but it ignites warmth where your hands connect, sending a comforting pulse between you.
But just as the moment deepens, a loud crack of thunder rumbles outside, reverberating through the walls, making the lights flicker. A flash of lightning illuminates Jaehyun’s startled expression, momentarily freezing both of you in place until you’re instinctively drawn closer. A storm rages outside.
“Let’s… let’s just stay like this, okay?” You murmur, catching his gaze before looking down at your joined hands. “Just for tonight.”
He nods slowly, the tension shifting into something more profound. You slide under the covers beside him, and even though there’s a noticeable space between you, his warmth envelops you. The moment sinks into something intimate, something that goes beyond the mere physical closeness or the warmth of shared body heat.
— Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you hesitate before answering an unknown number. But curiosity compels you to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Where have you been?” The voice on the other end drips with annoyance. Taeyong. Just hearing him makes your stomach churn. It's a voice you've been avoiding, one you hoped you'd never have to hear again. It reminds you too much of the past your trying to forget.
You bite your lip, your gaze flickering nervously around the bustling cafeteria. It’s lunchtime, and the air buzzes with chatter as people gather at tables. Jaehyun is tied up in a meeting, leaving you surrounded by a few friends who have become a surprising source of comfort. You've been at the company long enough now that the initial gossip has faded, allowing you to forge genuine connections beyond just your complicated relationship with Jaehyun.
You cover your phone as you pull it down from your ear and mouth a quick sorry to your friends as you make your way somewhere else secluded.
“Sorry, you caught me at a bad time,” you murmur, moving away to a quieter corner.
“A bad time? You've been ghosting us for weeks! We have a big job lined up and need you back,” he says, impatience slicing through his tone.
“I told you, I’m not doing that anymore. I’m in a good place. I can’t mess this up,” you reply, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
He scoffs, a sound that irritates you more than it should. “You think you can just bail on us? When we had your back when no one else did?”
His words resonate, stirring unwanted memories. They taught you everything you know about survival.
“Without us, you’d be scraping by,” he adds with a cocky lilt that grates your nerves.
“What do you need me for?” You huff.
“A quick job. In and out. Johnny’s got his eyes on this jewelry store. Thinks it’ll impress some girl he’s crushing on,” he explains, the casual tone in his voice only making you more uneasy.
“A jewelry store? Are you serious? You know that’s risky,” you almost yell before you remember where you are.
“Yeah, well, the guy’s moving across the globe. Apparently, his heart is in Vegas or something. Listen, you owe us. Let’s call this your last job before Johnny bails.” He says.
You pause, weighing your options. You knew how persistent these guys could get and you didn’t need them digging too deep into what you’ve been up to. If they found out about Jaehyun, your not sure what they would scheme.
“If I do this, you lose my number. Don’t ever contact me again. I appreciate everything you guys did for me, but I’m trying to move on.” Your voice is firm.
“Great to have you back, princess. I’ll send over the details,” he says before hanging up.
Your hands were shaking and you could feel your throat close up as tears began to well in your eyes. You wanted to cry. You lean against a wall, trying to calm your breathing.
You could always ask Jaehyun for the money; whatever Johnny was looking to score from the jewelry store, Jaehyun could match it; the only issue is you already owe him enough and Taeyong would definitely ask you where you got such a large sum of money.
You could not get Jaehyun involved. You didn't want him mixed up in any of this. This was your problem, your past, that you had to fix.
You tilt your head back, trying to will the tears away. If Jaehyun found out—Jaehyun couldn't find out.
You try to act normal when you head back up to Jaehyun's office. You bury yourself in paperwork and emails as an excuse for how unnaturally quiet you were today. You couldn't avoid him all day, though.
“How was lunch” he asks after returning from his meeting.
You don't turn to acknowledge him; instead, you give him a “it was good” before returning to your work. He doesn't comment on how quiet you have been but you definitely see it in his eyes that he wants to. He walks to his desk without another word. He knows when to give you space and probably figured now was one of those times.
You were making mistakes again. The chaos of the office felt louder than ever as you stumbled through the busy halls, your arms full of files that seemed to have a mind of their own. Papers slipped from your grasp, fluttering to the ground like fallen leaves as you scrambled to collect them, heart racing as you barely managed to avoid having someone step on the important documents.
The printer was your sworn enemy today; it jammed at the worst possible moment, leaving you flustered and anxiously trying to free the stuck sheets while praying no one noticed your struggle. You were constantly tripping over your own feet, rushing back and forth, trying to juggle tasks that felt increasingly overwhelming.
Jaehyun's eyes lingered on you longer than usual, suspicion bubbling just beneath the surface. He could let a few things slide, but it was clear he was picking up on the fact that something wasn’t right.
Finally, you excused yourself, heart pounding as you left for the bathroom. Clutching your phone tightly, it buzzed with a message that made your stomach drop. You glanced down and read:
[Meet us at xxx on Sunday at 3 AM].
This was it—tonight would be the night.
You quickly composed a response, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. As you headed back to the office, you tried to shake off the brewing anxiety. With every step, you reminded yourself that soon, after tonight, you wouldn’t have to hide anything else from Jaehyun. After tonight, everything could go back to normal.
You had packed a small duffel bag. Its contents reminded you of the significance of the night ahead. Dressed in all black, you made your way to Taeyong's place, the night air cool against your skin. As you arrived, the tension in your stomach twisted tighter when you saw Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta waiting for you.
“Hey.” you greeted, trying to sound more confident than you felt. You joined them, your heartbeat thumping in your ears as you went over the plan, going through every detail. The stakes were high; robbing businesses was far more complex than the petty house break-ins of the past. There was far more security to navigate this time, and your palms began to sweat at the thought of what would happen if you got caught.
“Stop overthinking it,” Johnny said, flashing you a reassuring smile as he finished loading the last item into the car. “It’s gonna be just like old times.”
You rolled your eyes. “This is the last time,” you declared, shooting a look at the back of Taeyong's head as he settled into the driver’s seat but you couldn’t stop the thrill that snuck into your heart. There was a small part of you that loved this thrill, loved the challenge that the night would bring
Johnny slid into the passenger seat, and Yuta hopped in beside you in the back. “I understand if you don’t want to steal, but we’re still family,” Yuta said, his voice calm and steady. “Don’t forget that, no matter what happens.
Your heart clenches painfully in your chest, a storm of emotions battling within you. You knew you were being cold towards them, shutting off parts of yourself that had always been open to them. They were your everything before Jaehyun came into your life, your partners in crime and laughter, and now you felt sickness coil in your stomach at the thought of discarding them for something that might not even last.
You bit back tears, feeling the sharp sting of regret and longing. One part of you mourned the life you were desperately trying to hold onto—the stability, the calm, everything that came with Jaehyun. The other half grieved for the carefree moments you’d shared with Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta and for the friendships that felt more like family than anything else.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” you finally managed to say, your voice wavering as you fought to steady it. “Let this be it for all of us.” Your words hung in the air.
“Y/N…” Yuta began, an understanding between all of you that couldn’t be voiced.
“Please,” you interrupted softly, desperation coloring your tone as you looked from one familiar face to the other. “I don’t want anything happening to you guys.”
Silence settled in the car. No one answered you; there were no reassurances to offer, no words that could change the precarious situation you were all in. They couldn’t up and leave this life and you knew it.
As Taeyong turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbled to life, breaking the stillness. You glanced out the window, taking in the familiar streets you had navigated countless times, the memories flooding back.
The blaring alarms pierced the night like a siren's wail as you moved to grab one more bag full of jewelry. Every clang of metal against metal made your stomach churn. Your hands were shaking, and as you tossed another bag over to Yuta, you felt a sense of disgust washing over you. How had it come to this? You stuffed your feelings deep down and concentrated on the task at hand—the only thing you could control. Yuta caught the bag and hurried it to the car, urgency fueling every movement.
Then came the wailing of sirens that sent a jolt of panic through your body. The familiar blue and red lights flickered on the walls of the alley as they crept closer, and your heart raced faster.
“Out now! GO!” Taeyong shouted, urgency slicing through the chaos. You hurled yourself into the car just as the engine roared to life, Taeyong hitting the gas pedal with a force that slammed you back against the seat. Your head twisted around, searching for any sign of the approaching police cars. Relief washed over you when you didn’t see their flashing lights right behind you—yet.
Then, terror gripped you as a police car roared around the corner, lights ablaze, barreling towards you.
“We’re not going to make it!” You cried out, panic rising in your chest like bile.
“Shut up! Let me think!” Taeyong snapped back, his voice sharp and focused.
With skill, he made a sharp left turn and then another, weaving through the streets as your heart thundered in your ears. The fear began to lift, the thrill of escape practically intoxicating, until the dreaded sight of the police car revealed itself again, like a predator stalking prey.
He maneuvered the car swiftly into a dark alleyway, the bright streetlights fading behind you, swallowed by the inky shadows of the narrow passage.
“Get out!” Taeyong shouted suddenly, and you whipped your head around to look at him, wide-eyed, disbelief painted across your face.
“Are you crazy?” you exclaimed, your pulse racing even faster. The alleyway loomed dark and empty beyond the car.
“What are you—” Yuta started to say, confusion evident in his voice.
“I’ll lead them away; just go!” Taeyong insisted, urgency etched deep into his words. “We don’t have time!”
You knew if he was caught, he would never snitch—Taeyong was loyal, he would take the fall for you without a second thought. But the prospect of him behind bars was more upsetting than you'd ever anticipated.
“That wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” you murmured, helpless, as Johnny dragged you along through the darkness. You struggled to comprehend what was happening through the haze of tears obscuring your vision. Out of instinct, you pulled off your mask and dark jacket, tossing them into a nearby trash bin.
With your heads down, you walked in silence, the distant sirens haunting the air. It wasn’t long until Kun, Yuta’s friend, pulled up to a nearby park to pick you all up.
You didn't go home that night. Instead, you ended up at Chenle's place. He didn’t ask any questions when he saw your tear-stained cheeks; he simply pulled you inside and set about making some tea to soothe your frayed nerves. Chenle was always the one who understood you the most.
Tonight, the weight of secrets felt heavier than ever. You couldn’t keep it all inside any longer. As you sank onto his couch, the dam broke, and you began to tell Chenle everything—from the very beginning to the events of the night. Sobs wracked your body as you relayed the tale, the guilt and shame spilling out with each word.
You were a liar, a thief, a fake.
Chenle sat in silence for a moment, absorbing your confession. He let out a heavy sigh and rose from his seat, your teary eyes tracking him as he rummaged through his cupboard.
“We’re gonna need something stronger than tea tonight,” he said, pouring you a shot.
When you wake up the next day, a piercing headache pounds through your skull. You had fallen asleep on Chenle’s couch. Blinking against the sunlight filtering in, you glance around the large living space and spot Chenle sprawled on the other end of the couch, still blissfully asleep.
Rummaging around the couch cushions, your fingers finally brush against your phone. You remember that you powered it down last night, a decision made during the chaos of emotions. You turn it back on, the screen lighting up and revealing a barrage of messages.
YUTA [taeyong got away last night] [Just keep your head down and we should be fine]
JOHNNY [TY PULLED THROUGH LET'S GO!]
You can’t help but roll your eyes at that. “Selfish bastard.” you think, feeling a stir of resentment alongside the relief.
JAEHYUN [are you coming into work today?] [are you hurt?] [if your sick i can bring you something] [call me when you can]
You wince at the notification count—Jaehyun had called you at least five times this morning
Just then, Daegal, Chenle’s dog, leaps onto the couch, nudging your leg. Chenle stirs awake, cracking an eye open, squinting against the bright light that seeps into the living room.
“Taeyong was able to get away somehow,” you inform him quietly.
“Don’t know whether I should be happy or upset about that,” he replies, his voice still thick with sleep.
“I’m sorry about lying, and I’m sorry for bothering you, but this was the only place I knew to come.” You let out a heavy sigh, tossing your phone down on the coffee table.
“If it makes you feel better, I’m not upset that you lied,” Chenle says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I understand what you were going through, and if that’s how you made ends meet, I won’t judge you for it.” He stretches and yawns, then narrows his eyes playfully at you. “What I am mad about is the fact that you’ve been seeing a hot CEO and didn’t tell me about it!”
A weight lifts off your shoulders at his playful reprimand. At least you wouldn’t lose your best friend. You crawl toward him on the couch and envelop him in a warm hug. “I love you,” you smother him with affection.
You sit across the table from Chenle, a steaming plate of breakfast in front of you. As you tell him everything about your relationship with Jaehyun—the sweet moments, the little things that made you blush—it feels like a breath of fresh air. It takes you back to those late-night gossip sessions in high school, a sense of comfort washing over you. For that brief moment, you felt like yourself again, like the world around you wasn't being held together by a single string.
But soon reality creeps back in. You check the time and realize you can’t put off Jaehyun's calls any longer.
[im ok]
[where have you been?]
[Can we meet?]
[i can meet you at home]
Your heart clenches at the word ‘home.’ You aren’t sure when you two became this close, but the thought of lying to Jaehyun anymore feels unbearable.
As you approach the house, a heavy silence envelops you. It’s eerily quiet; the only sound is the faint shuffle of papers filtering in from Jaehyun’s study. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation ahead.
You clear your throat, your voice slightly shaky. “Hey,” you announce, trying to keep your tone steady.
Jaehyun looks up, his expression distant and unreadable. “Where have you been?” he asks, setting aside the documents that had consumed his attention. Frustration flickers across his face as he stands and closes the distance between you. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, the muscles evident even beneath the wrinkled fabric of his work clothes, a testament to the long day he’s had.
He leans back slightly against his desk, exuding a mix of authority and weariness. His glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose, casting a shadow over his eyes and intensifying his gaze as he studies you, waiting for an answer that feels heavy in the air
“I was at a friend’s,” you reply, your words catching slightly in your throat.
“Why weren’t you answering my calls? What’s been going on with you lately?” His voice is firm, perhaps too firm, sounding too much like your boss, and you can feel your irritation simmer.
“It won’t happen again. I’ve just been taking care of some business,” you mumble, but it feels inadequate.
“You need to let me know if you’re not going to show up!” he says, and you can see the frustration etching lines across his forehead. But beneath that, there’s something else—something more worried.
“Is this all I am to you? Just another one of your employees you have to keep track of,” you challenge, the heat of your annoyance flaring. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up to work, Mr. Jung!” You spit his name like it’s a bitter taste in your mouth.
“Don't do that. I was worried about you!” He snaps back, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and concern.
“I just needed some time!” You fire back, defending yourself but feeling the weight of his gaze.
“Time for what? I’ve been giving you time! Time to text, time to leave, time to make calls to whoever it is you’ve been talking to,” he replies, the edge in his voice sharpening with jealousy.
“Why do you even care who I talk to?”
His lips are on yours in an instant and he kisses you for the first time. You can feel his anger, frustration, and annoyance at you through the way he kisses you. It was as though the heavens had opened and a lightning strike had struck you, igniting every nerve ending in your body. The kiss was electrifying, sending waves of warmth cascading down your spine, and you felt as if your lips were two magnets with an irresistible force drawing them together. The kiss is harsh, and your teeth clink together as you kiss him back with just as much heat. Everything that had been boiling within you—the frustration, fear, and anxiety—pours out as you let it all go. Your fingers pull at his hair, and you bite at his lips. His hands grip your hips roughly, like he's barely holding himself back from breaking you. He pulls you against him, and you can feel him hard through his slacks.
The tension in the room was high, and when it snapped, it was like the barriers that you both worked hard to keep up around each other had fallen.
He switches positions with you, pushing you up against his desk as he kisses down your neck. You have half the mind to be mindful of the things that litter his desk, trying not to knock anything over as his hands explore your body. He senses your hesitation and clears his desk with a swipe of his arm, not breaking the kiss in his haste. You moan into his mouth as he lays you down flat against his desk.
“Who have you been texting?” he asks, his chest heaving. You knew it must have been eating him up over the past few days.
“It was no one. I’ll explain later, just don’t stop,” you whine and pull him back to your lips.
Your fingers start working at the pesky buttons of his shirt. You try to work them one by one, but only get half way before you give up. You slide the fabric half way down his shoulders.
You run your hands down his back, savoring the feel of his skin beneath your palms. His hands move to your shirt, pulling it over your head with ease. His lips trail kisses down your collarbone, causing you to arch your back involuntarily. He pulls your bra open, the fabric falling away to reveal your breasts. His mouth descends on one nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub as his hand cups the other breast, squeezing gently. His tongue circles your nipple, teasing and tormenting until you’re practically begging for release. His hand slides lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your sweats. His thick fingers pinch and tug at your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that elicit moans from your lips. You’re soaking wet, and it’s not hard for him to slip his fingers inside your tight pussy.
Your eyes meet his, and his pupils are dilated, like he’s lost in pleasing you. His fingers pump into you at a steady pace, and your thighs spread wide for him, giving him complete access to you. His hand presses against your abdomen as he curls his fingers inside you. He wants you to feel it.
“Say you’re mine,” he commands. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” your voice trembles, and you can feel your stomach clench with how close you are. Your back arches as you squirm under his ministrations. He leans down and attaches his mouth to your clit as he fingers you, and that’s all you need before you’re cumming all over his fingers. He continues to suck and lick at you until you’re pushing at his head to stop.
Once you have caught your breath, you pull your clothes back on as a heavy silence engulfs the room. You know you need to tell him the truth. You need to tell him what happened.
“I robbed a jewelry store.” You say as he helps you down from his desk.
He freezes, eyes widening in disbelief. “You did what?”
“There’s nothing to worry about! It’s over, okay? I just didn’t want to lie to you anymore,” you say defensively.
“Are you serious? What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t want to drag you into this! It was my past that got me here. I can’t rely on you to fix everything for me,” you explain.
“But you were the one who taught me not to bear it all alone!” he counters, hurt flashing in his eyes.
“Not this Jae, I couldn't drag you into this. I care about you way too much”
“And you think I don’t care about you? You throw yourself into trouble like it’s nothing, and you want me to just forget it? Tell me what really happened.” His gaze is piercing, demanding honesty.
You tell him everything.
You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “I didn’t want our lives to cross paths like this. I thought I could leave that stuff behind but they kept reaching out. It was just one last job, and I thought I could handle it.”
“You should have told me. I could have helped,” he says, brow crinkling in frustration.
“I was scared,” you admit, stepping closer to him. “Scared that getting you involved would get you hurt.”
Jaehyun sighs deeply, processing what you’ve just shared. “No more secrets, okay? You need to promise me that.”
The way your life had fallen into rhythm with Jaehyuns was scary; you couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when this arrangement finally came to an end. You found yourself practically living in his home, spending almost every day together. You cherished the moments you shared working side by side. Each laugh, each quiet evening, felt like a treasure you never wanted to lose. Still, you understood that, like everything else, even the best things must eventually come to an end. You just hoped that day would remain far off.
Unfortunately, today was that day. After the countless hours you’d spent with Jaehyun, both on and off the clock, you had officially repaid your debt. Of course, your coworkers gathered around the dinner table at the prestigious restaurant had no idea. They believed you were simply celebrating your one-year anniversary. You forced a smile; would they still see it as a celebration if they knew the full story behind your relationship with Jaehyun?
The atmosphere in the restaurant was a blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and the delicious aroma of carefully prepared dishes. As the celebrations for your one-year anniversary at the company unfolded around you, a wave of anxiety gnawed at your insides. You had worked hard for this moment, but all you could think about was what came next. You glanced down the table, where Jaehyun sat, a warm smile plastered on his face as he engaged in conversation with your coworkers, but he hadn’t looked your way once.
It was a stark contrast to the intimacy that you two shared. He didn’t bring up that night. He didn't bring up how he made you promise that you were his. For awhile, you thought you had just imagined it all but you could feel the shift in your dynamic. His touches lingering a little longer and the way his eyes wandered to you when he thought you weren't looking.
You find yourself looking back on your relationship with Jaehyun. Surprisingly, Jaehyun wasn’t the cold, distant person you first encountered; now, he trailed after you like a loyal puppy, and there was something sweetly comforting in the role reversal. You remembered how he had seemed so vast and imposing on your first day at the company, while you had followed him around like a lost puppy trying to match his stride. Now, as you walked through the hallways with your head held high, Jaehyun was the one keeping pace behind you, as if he feared losing you.
But as you looked at him now, across the expanse of the table, he felt miles away. The realization that the debt you owed him was fully paid loomed over you, casting a shadow that threatened to eclipse the joy of the evening. What would happen after tonight? How would your relationship change? You couldn’t shake the nagging fear that everything you had built together might soon unravel.
The cake arrived, beautifully adorned and lit with candles, drawing enthusiastic cheers from your coworkers. Jaehyun raised a glass to toast the moment, and when he glanced around, his eyes skated over you without recognition. You blinked, a pang of hurt lacing through you as the reality of it all settled in.
After the dinner wound down and laughter faded into the background, Jaehyun drove you back home—well, to his house. The silence hung between you like a tightrope, and it was nearly suffocating. Once inside the house, the familiar warmth enveloped you.
Finally, unable to contain your feelings, you broke the silence. “Jaehyun,” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “Why have you been so quiet tonight?”
He paused, fingers brushing through his hair as he leaned against the kitchen counter. The flickering light above cast shadows across his face, making it difficult to read his expression. “I—” he hesitated, eyes dropping to the floor, “I know your probably getting ready to leave since the debt is paid and I guess I was just preparing myself for that”
Your heart raced. “Is that why you haven’t brought up that night in your office?”
"I just didn’t want to grow more attached than I already am. I thought if I could pretend that night never happened, it would hurt less when you left.” He takes a deep breath as he searches your face for the right words to say. “I want you to stay with me. I know you’ve paid me back for everything… but I need you to understand that I want you in my life for reasons that go far beyond debt.” He took a breath, as if gathering the courage to continue. “I care about you. More than you know.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Jaehyun. I'm not going anywhere you don’t want me to,” you say, stepping closer to him and cupping his face.
Jaehyun reached up, touching the hand that was caressing his face. “Then let’s stop pretending that all this is just transactional. I want something real.” The sincerity in his gaze melted your worries away, replacing them with something brighter, something full of possibility.
When he leans down to kiss you, your fingers caress his cheeks, memorizing the contours as you breathe in the essence of him. His hands roamed over your hips, exploring with an urgency that both thrilled and comforted you. The way they eventually tangled into your hair was possessive, a silent promise that he wasn't going to let you go.
Your bodies pressed together tightly and with every passing second, the kiss grew hotter, needier, and wetter as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You panted softly, surrendering to him, allowing him to take over completely, losing yourself in him.
As the fervor of the moment intensified, you felt his hands traveling back down to your hips. Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself being lifted off your feet. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring yourself as he backed you up against a nearby wall. The cool surface contrasted sharply with the heat radiating between your bodies.
The makeout session became heavier and more desperate as passion consumed you both. Each kiss felt like a promise, filled with hunger and longing, as if you were trying to convey everything that words could never fully express. Finally, as your lungs burn for air, you part, a thin string of saliva connecting you.
The way he looked at you suggested a man starved—and that only fueled your desire to explore him further. As his hips rocked against yours, a low moan escaped your lips, the friction backing your toes curl. You welcomed his touch and his kisses but you wanted more. You wanted to take your time, savoring each curve and contour of each other’s bodies.
His face nestled in the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending shivers racing down your spine. A dampness was forming in your panties, an exhilarating rush that clouded your thoughts. Gathering the courage, you gently tapped him on the shoulder, hoping to break the spell that enveloped you both.
He lifted his head, planting soft kisses along your neck, climbing up to press a tender peck against your lips. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes holding a raw sincerity that made you forget the world around you. “Should we stop?” he murmured, his voice low and earnest.
“It’s not that,” you replied, your breath coming in soft gasps as you regained your composure. “I just want to move to the bedroom.”
You expected him to set you down for a moment, but instead a gasp slipped from your lips as he tightened his grip. He effortlessly began to ascend the opulent winding staircase. The walls were adorned with portraits, their painted eyes following your every movement, as if they were witnesses to this unfolding moment. Rich mahogany railings glimmered under the soft light of the chandelier.
You felt like a princess from a fairytale, swept away on a wave of romance and fantasy as he carried you up the staircase. Yet, amidst the enchantment, a small knot of doubt tightened in your chest—a complicated mix of guilt and disbelief. You don’t deserve this, you thought, battling the insistent voice in your head. This isn’t your life.
This dreamlike encounter with Jaehyun, who seemed to embody the very essence of Prince Charming, felt almost too good to be true—like a scene plucked straight from a storybook. The way he held you, the intensity of his gaze, and the atmosphere were intoxicating. But hessitation tugged at you, casting shadows over the light of your fairy tale.
As he gently set you down on the edge of his bed, Jaehyun kneeled before you. He looked up, his deep eyes searching yours as if trying to read the secrets hidden within.
“What’s wrong, pretty?” he asked, his voice a low, soothing murmur that seemed to wrap around you like a protective embrace. His hands enveloped yours, thumb stroking over your skin in a languid, comforting rhythm.
You forced a smile, desperate to maintain the illusion of this fairytale moment, but you knew better than to lie to him. Jaehyun had a way of seeing through your facades, as if he had developed some sixth sense when it came to understanding you. The light in his eyes flickered, a mix of concern and curiosity, as he waited for you to speak.
This was all so surreal—when the world outside seemed so turbulent, here he was, the embodiment of calm and acceptance. But as much as you tried to bask in this moment, the shadows of your past crept in, reminding you of who you once were.
“About that night…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, throat tightening. Sudden shame washed over you like a cold wave. “I can’t help but feel like I don’t deserve all of this.
Jaehyun’s gaze softened, and he leaned in closer, brows furrowing slightly in concern. “Everyone has a past. What matters is who you choose to be now.” he said gently, as if unfurling your tightly wound shame with each word.
“But I’m a thief, Jaehyun… I tried to steal from you. I lied and even robbed a bank” The admission hung in the air.
“I don’t see a thief when I look at you; I see someone who has struggled but is capable of so much more. Someone I care about.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles.
You looked down at him, finally meeting his gaze, and in that moment, you saw a man who would stop time for you if he could, who would pause the world just to shield you from its harshness.
He was your man.
Without a second thought, you leaned in and pulled him into another kiss, the warmth between you igniting once more, filling the room with an undeniable heat. He broke away for just a moment, a playful glint in his eyes, before he gripped your hips and effortlessly lifted you. In one swift motion, he tossed you onto the middle of the soft, inviting bed.
You bounced with a delighted laugh, the sound echoing through the air as you playfully crawled back toward the headboard, an exhilarated sparkle dancing in your eyes.
Jaehyun crawls to you and you tug off your blouse before he reaches you. It was like he couldn't keep his mouth off of you. He kisses the bare skin of your chest and stomach as his hands toy with the button on the dress pants you wore at dinner. He tugs them down your legs until your only left in your bra and panties. When he's done, you push at his shoulder until your able to sit up, stradling him.
You begin undressing him like the time in the bathroom but this time he lets you strip him down until hes in his boxers. You could see him straining against the fabric of his boxers and you whimper. You had to have him in your mouth. He tries to lay you back down, insistant on taking care of you but you shake your head; thats not what you needed right now. You connect your lips and grip him through his boxers. He lets out a slight gasp, and you can feel him twitch in your grasp. His eyes are closed, but you can see the tension in his jaw and the way his hands grip the sheets beneath him. You’ve been thinking about this for a while now, about how you want to unravel him, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left.
“Can I show you what's been on my mind?” You whisper against his lips, your voice low and sultry. “Do you trust me?”
His eyes flutter open and he nods. You slide down until you settle between his legs, your fingers trailing over the fabric of his boxers and you kiss along his chest. Finally, you pull him out of his boxers. His tip is a pretty pink, begging for your attention, and there’s a vein that follows along the base of his cock, pulsing with every heartbeat. You make a mental note to pay extra attention to that. His breath picks up before you can even do anything, and when you finally tear your eyes away from his cock, you see that his cheeks are dusted pink and his ears are red. Even at a time like this, you find him endearing. You smile, but it comes off more sultry than you intend.
You gather spit in your mouth to wet your tongue, savoring the anticipation as you lean in closer. The moment your lips wrap around his tip, he lets out a sharp gasp, his body tensing. You take him into your mouth, feeling the warmth and saltiness of him as you bob your head gently. You circle his tip with your tongue before pulling off to lick him from base to tip, spreading your saliva and making him slip easier into your mouth.
You look up, meeting his gaze as you take him deeper, your throat working around him. Jaehyun’s head is thrown back, his chest heaving as he tries to keep still, but his hips betray him, thrusting slightly into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. Each time you pull off, you leave a trail of saliva connecting you, making your next descent even slicker.
“Fuck…hah,” he breathes, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good.”
“When was the last time someone did this for you?” You ask, your voice muffled around his cock, noticing how sensitive he is.
“I can’t remember,” he groans.
“We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” You say seductively, your eyes locked on his as you take him back into your throat, not holding back as you show him the pleasures he had probably been withholding from himself. You moan around him, pumping him vigorously as you suck on him, making a show of giving him the sloppiest head possible.
He was polite in the beginning; he didn’t push your head or tug your hair, and he didn’t buck his hips. Instead, he gripped the sheets and bit his lip, trying to control himself, trying to be a gentleman. But after he hits the back of your throat a little too roughly and you gag on him, he loses it. The way your throat convulses makes him bury his fingers into your hair, pressing you down until your nose is nuzzling against his happy trail. Tears burn your eyes as you let him drown in his pleasure, your own arousal building in response.
You know your panties are ruined at this point. Your free hand snakes down between your legs, your fingers gliding over your clit, circling the swollen button as he uses your throat. You barely notice the ache in your jaw, too consumed by the sensations coursing through your body. Suddenly, he pulls you off, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild with desperation.
“Lay down,” he commands, his voice gruff and urgent. You don’t even have time to follow his command before he manhandles you onto your back, his hands moving with a mix of urgency and precision. Desire and desperation swirl in his eyes as he practically rips your panties from you, his fingertips grazing your inner thighs as he strips them away. He’s far too impatient to unclip your bra, so he just pushes it up, exposing your breasts to the cool air.
Your back arches into his touch as he attaches his mouth to your nipples, flicking and nibbling at them with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. You moan, your nails scratching down his arms lightly, urging him on. He kisses down to your thighs, leaving a few love bites along the skin there that have your hips twitching for more. Finally, he pulls back, his eyes raking down your body like he’s seeing you for the first time.
“Hurry, I need you,” you cry, your voice breaking with urgency, your fingernails digging into his arms.
He shushes you with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a brief but intense moment of connection. Then he lines himself up, coating himself in your slick, making sure he’s slick enough to slide right in. Your breath hitches when he presses against your entrance, the head of his cock nudging at your folds. You were definitely feeling how big he was. Not only was he long, but he had a nice girth as well, stretching you in ways that had you clenching your teeth a little at the sensation.
“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he begins to push in. “Let me in.”
You gently press him back, creating a space between your bodies, your eyes drawn to where your bodies connect. You can feel him deep inside you—only a third left before hes in completely and you already felt full. A soft whimper escapes your lips, vulnerability flashing in your gaze as you look up at him, searching for assurance.
“It’s okay, baby. You can take it,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.
You stay still, allowing the initial sting to fade, his fingers intertwined with yours, rubbing gentle circles into your skin as a calming gesture. You focus on the warmth of his hand against yours and the tension slowly dissipates. The discomfort begins to melt away, replaced by a delicious ache. You give him a slow nod, a silent agreement, and he takes that as his cue. His hips pull back, and you can’t help but watch, mesmerized, as he slips out—he was so big but still so perfect.
“Keep your eyes on me, baby. Focus,” he urges, his voice a deep rumble that resonates in your core.
You meet his gaze and its so intense you almost shy away. “Thats right baby, im right here”
One of his hands grips the underside of your thigh before pressing it up against your chest. your back arching involuntarily at the delicious rush of pleasure that courses through you. You could feel him in your gut in this position. His eyebrows furrow in concentration as he drills into you again and again. Short, fast thrusts gradually deepen into long, languid strokes that have you pushing at his hips weakly.
“Fuck, Jae… it’s too deep,” you cry out, your thighs trembling.
He pulls out slowly, leaving you empty and momentarily disoriented. “Turn around,” he commands, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. You pout, suddenly regretting opening your big mouth.
Taking a deep breath, you prop yourself up on your hands and knees, glancing over your shoulder at him with a pleading gaze. “I can take it, I promise,” you reassure.
“We’ll see,” he replies, his tone low and teasing, as he leans down to lay a line of soft kisses down your spine.
You shudder at the gesture and just as the last kiss lingers on the small of your back, you feel him slip inside again. This position gives him more control but he isn't as deep as before. You roll your hips back into him, urging him to fuck you as deep as he was before.
But he slows, his thrusts coming to a halt as he watches you move, his gaze dark with pleasure as he just watches you fuck yourself on him. He hums a noise of pleasure. He lets it go on for a little while longer before he is gripping your hips and stilling your movements.
“Let me take care of you”
He pushes the space between your shoulders, urging you down into the softness of the mattress until you're face down, ass up. With one hand gripping your hips, he resumes his thrusts. Picking up a brutal pace and this time you don't fight it. Each thrust strikes with precision, sharp and calculated, as he takes you from behind. His movements are relentless.
A low growl reverberates from deep within him. In an instant, he pulls you up until your back presses against his chest, your body perched in his lap as he continues to drill into you. You tilt your head back against his shoulder, gasping as his hands roam over you. One grips your chest, kneading your breast, while the other slips between your legs to expertly rub your clit. You let out unrestrained moans, the sounds echoing in the room without a care.
Your thighs tremble and you can feel tears prick your eyes as the overwheliming sensation consumes your body. Each thrust, each caress pushes you closer to the edge, and your chest heaves as you squirm in his hold. It was too much.
“I got you. Let it go baby.” he whispers breathily in your ear. His hand that was kneading your breast moves to hook beneath your shoulder, anchoring you down as he thrusts deeper, pulling you back into him as his hips drive into yours.
It isn't long until your an incoherent mess, until finally you collapse against him as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. You moan shamelessly, feeling your heat pulse around him and coating his cock as your release spills out, dripping down his balls. Jaehyun groans, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he holds you in place, burning himself into you over and over again until hes lightheaded.
“Just a little more, baby, please. You can take it, yeah?” Jaehyun's voice wavers slightly, the raw need evident as he edges closer to his release. The urgency in his tone drives you wild. With a few more deep thrusts, he finally reaches his peak, filling you with thick, hot strands of cum. You shudder in his grasp, a wave of pleasure washing over you as he exhales harshly, breaths mingled with soft curses. “Fuck… mmmh… fuck,” he murmurs.
Jaehyun breathes as he slowly tries to catch his breath. You both take a few moments to come down from your high. His grip loosens at last, and with a gentle touch, he pulls out, laying you delicately on the mattress. You sink into the sheets, breathing heavily as he gets up to run a bath.
A few moments later, he returns, scooping you up in his strong arms. Together, you step into the warm water, which soothes your tired muscles instantly. You sit in front of him, letting the warmth encapsulate you as he takes on the role of caretaker, washing your back caringly.
He massages your shoulders, and you let out a content sigh, a sound that embodies the perfect blend of exhaustion and bliss. The water laps around you, and you feel a sense of tranquility settle in, wrapping around you just as warmly as his hands.
After you both wash up, you're enveloped in a comfortable silence. You were too tired to talk anyway. You lean back against him, feeling his fingers play in your hair. Eventually, when you finally muster the energy to pull yourselves from the bath, he wraps you both in warm towels. You don’t even bother with clothes, opting instead to pad back toward the bedroom
The bed was a chaotic mess, sheets crumpled and soiled from the nights activities. You yawn, too exhausted to even think about changing the linens, and way too impatient to wait for Jaehyun to take care of it. Without hesitation, you reach for his wrist, pulling him gently out of his disheveled room.
You guide him into the room across the hall—the very one where you first stayed. As you get under the covers, you tug them up and slip in beside him, legs tangling with his as you get comfortable.
Jaehyun can’t tear his gaze away from you as you settle next to him, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your features. Your eyes feel heavy, and you yawn again, surrendering to the fatigue. “Go to sleep, Jae, stop staring like a creep,” you grumble, nuzzling deeper into his chest.
“I'm afraid to,” he admits, his words muffled against your hair as he leans down to press a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“Why?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern.
“Because I’m afraid that when I wake up, this will all be a dream,” he confesses.
“Jaehyun. I’m right here,” you murmur with a soft yawn, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second. The warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a sense of comfort that makes it hard to resist the pull of sleep. “I’ll always be… right here,” you promise, your words fading into a whisper as sleep finally overtakes you.
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depressopax · 9 months ago
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hey! Are you good? Hope so!
So I don’t really know how this requests work, and I’ve read the rules you wrote so I’m so sorry if I do something wrong, if you can of course, could you do some fluff/comfort with Sergio Marquina from La casa de papel? Something like she risks herself for him because of a mistake that the guys did from inside the heist, and as they were the only ones out there and he was working with something else, she goes and solves the problem herself, but she puts herself in risk and Sergio is super worried but feeling loved and wanted at the same time.
Even if you can’t do it thank you for your time and attention anyway, have a good day!
HIII! Thank you for the request!  Sorry it took a while, but here it is!  I changed some things up, but tried keeping to the suggested plot.  I hope you like it and thanks for your patience!  Have a good day! <3
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I did it for love
Fandom - La casa de papel
The Professor/Sergio Marquina x gn!reader
Pairing: The Professor x gender neutral reader Genre: Hurt/comfort Warning(s): Spoilers for LCDP! Injury, guns, Berlin being a jerk lol, cuss words and insults. Reader is referred to as "Athens" and is gender-neutral, goes by they/them! Words: 1.5K Summary: After The Professor dissapears, Reader is dissapointed and tries dealing with the hostages alone. English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||
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“What happens if the plan goes south?” The others grunted at the question.
“Athens… Por favor! Have some faith in us.” Berlin chanted with a smug grin. 
How you wish you could erase it from his face. Instead, you turned to look at the Professor. He adjusted his glasses. 
“If it would go south… I’ll be there to guide you all. Remember, I’ll be one call away. And you have Berlin to handle whatever dangers you might face.”
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I’ll be there. - One call away.
Bullshit.
24 hours have almost gone by without a sign of life from the Professor. Shit is escalating. With arguments, disagreements, Berlin’s cruelness and Tokyo’s pathetic attempts to overpower him, together with Denver and Rio, the crew is totally fucked. 
You don’t know what’s worse - the fact that the plan is falling apart, the Professor's betrayal - or the fact that you, despite all- feels worried for him. You want to be angry, you should be angry. Still… The worry grows. Did he get arrested? Is he hurt? Why the hell isn’t he calling?! With determined steps, you walk into the office that is used to communicate with the Professor. Berlin is the only one allowed to keep in touch with him. But the plan is going south. Berlin has lost his mind, so has Tokyo. Who gives a damn if you break one rule? So you call him on the red phone. You wait, and wait, and wait… You repeat the same procedure three times before slamming the plastic phone back in its place. 
When leaving the room, Berlin stands outside the door. He’s leaning against the wall and looks smug.
“Athens. Are you sneaking around?” 
But you don’t have the energy to reply. As you walk off, he grabs your arm. 
“Let go!” you hiss.
“You tried calling him, didn’t ya?” 
“So what? At least I’m not sleeping with a hostage! I haven’t killed anyone, fuck! I haven’t raised my gun once. I have followed you, and the Professor since the start. But you? You and the others?” You laugh and shake your head. “No. You just had to ruin it. And now? The Professor is gone.” 
Berlin's grip around your arm tightens and his face twists into a look of pure madness. 
“I’m in charge here, Athens. Know your damn place.” he hisses right back at you and for the first time you feel threatened by him. 
Suddenly… Gunshots. And the scream of frightened hostages.
Berlin lets go of you and for the anger towards each other fades. Disagreement asides, you have a job to do. Together, you grab the guns and run. 
Is this the time when I’ll have to use the gun? You think and hold it out like a shield  as you run straight into the room where the hostages are kept. 
Arturito you idiot.
A confused and angry Denver's stands with his arms in the air and a gun to his head. Without thinking twice you sneak down the stairs. You must look wild, with fury in your eyes and a raised gun. Of course no hostage dares to warn Arturo about your presence.
“Drop the gun, Arturito.” He flinches when realizing someone’s behind him. His few seconds of fright is all it takes to regain control of the situation. 
“You ok, Denver?” 
“Yea, thank you, Athens. Let’s deal with this son of a bitch.” you both stare at Arturo. 
How he got the gun, you don’t know. But this could've ended poorly. Really poorly. Just as the situation is under control, it happens. “Athens!” Denver yells and raises his gun. You turn around, and suddenly something slaps into the side of your head.
A sharp pain courses through your body and you fall. 
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“Athens? A word, please.” The professor had said to you, after class. The others left and you stayed. 
“Yea? What’s up?” 
You both sat down and the bearded man looked at you. 
“You’re worried. About the plan”
“Well… Yes, I am.” you had admitted. “No offense, Professor, but… What if something happens? And what if you don’t answer the phone when we need you, for some reason?”
“If that happens, Berlin will take over for me. Do you trust me, Athens?” A nod in reply. “My top priority is safety for you and the others. I promise to get all of you out. Okay?”
“Okay.” 
He smiled reassuringly at you and from nowhere… A warm feeling spread through your body. You’d never had him smile at you before. That day, you’d been at the Toledo House for two months. Professor saved your life and ever since he took you under his wings, you felt something towards him. Something besides friendship. 
“Do you trust me?” you had asked. He seemed startled and adjusted his glasses whilst nodding.“Of course I do, Athens.”
“You’re a good person, Professor.”
He blushed up.
“Uhm, thank you.” 
“I mean it.” 
During those two months, the two of you had built a connection. Both could feel it, but denied it. Mainly because of the “No relationships” rule. But you couldn’t help it. You wanted him. When you moved closer to him, he didn’t say anything. But when you leaned forward…
“Athens.” His voice was firm. 
“Sorry.”
“You know the rules.” He stood up and tried meeting your eyes, but eye contact was the last thing you wanted. You looked away in shame. 
“Sorry.”
He sighed and walked closer again.
“It’s ok. But I don’t feel the same. I’m sorry.” he turned to leave the classroom, but then added. “You’re a good person, Athens. And I trust you. Don’t you forget that.” 
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He hurries back to the hideout. That was a close shot. Sergio had gone back to the Toledo House to plant some false evidence for the dear police force. But he didn’t expect that he’d almost get caught. When he enters the room, the phone is ringing. He’s ashamed. It’s been 24 hours. 
He, the mastermind of the heist, left his team to fight alone. He hates himself for it.
My top priority is safety for you and the others. I promise to get all of you out. Okay?
That’s what he once told Athens. They probably hate him now, all of them… But the thought of you hating him, that hurts. He picks up the phone.
“Berlin.” “Where the hell have you been?” his half-brother hisses on the phone.
“I had to fix some things. Sorry.”
Berlin sighs.
“Alright. Well, shit is going down here. The hostages tried escaping. They wounded Athens.” 
Sergio almost drops the phone. Athens. Athens. 
“Are they ok?!” 
“Will be. They’re unconscious right now.” 
Berlin continues updating him about the situation at the Royal Mint, but the Professor, the mastermind behind the heist, and the calm man with a plan for everything - isn’t listening. He’s thinking of you. Your smile, laughter, and the confession… And now, you’re wounded, all because of him. He broke his first rule, because at this very moment he realizes he indeed likes you.
More than a friend. 
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After giving Berlin and the others instructions on how to handle the hostages, he scrolls through the security cameras, to keep the team updated in case he sees something shady. But his eyes remain on the camera showing the room you’re in. He just wants to see you wake up and make sure you’re ok. And finally, you blink your eyes open. At first, you feel a bit disoriented. Then the memories come back. The hostages. As you sit up, the room spins and you have to lay down again with a grunt. You hold yourself up on your elbows and take deep breaths. The back of your head feels sore. 
Sergio almost throws himself over the red phone as he sees you’re awake. When the phone rings, you pick up.
“Professor?” “Athens…” He whispers, letting out a loud sigh in relief. Guilt washes over him and he rubs his forehead. “I’m so sorry”
“It wasn’t your fault. I was acting reckless.” “I promised I’d be there, Athens. And I wasn't…”
“Alright then… We’re both idiots.” 
He laughs at this, and without realizing it, he’s crying, too.
“But I’m the biggest idiot.” “Can’t argue with that, Prof.”
“I’ll make it up to you, somehow. I promise.”
“Are you ok, Prof?” He can hear the worry in your voice and it both flusters him and makes the guilt worse. You just got injured by a damn hostage, but worried for him?
“I’m just glad to hear your voice.”
The silence is comfortable.
“I should go back and help the others…”
“Athens. No. You need to rest.” 
“But I-” but when you sit up, everything spins again. “...Ok.” “I wish I was there right now. To protect you.” Sergio realizes what he just confessed too, and how it might come across. But he doesn’t care. He means it. 
“I’ll hold you to your words.” 
With that, Sergio finds the strength and motivation needed to be a good leader again. He’ll get you out of the Royal Mint. You and the others. And after he’s done that - He will never let you go.
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Thanks for reading! If you've made it this far - Please check out my very first chapter fanfiction! I'll link it down below. It would mean a lot to me, if not to read but to like or share! Thank you. <3 Take care!!
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marigoldenblooms · 9 months ago
Text
An Important Lesson - One-Shot
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Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)
Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.
MINORS DNI - 18+
Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 
A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)
Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 
The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 
Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 
You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?
Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 
As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------
Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 
“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 
You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.
------------------------------------------
“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 
You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”
Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”
“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”
“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”
“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 
“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.
“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 
You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 
“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 
“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 
“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”
“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.
Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.
Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 
You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 
“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 
“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 
If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”
“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 
“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 
Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 
And your secret?
You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.
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allwaswell16 · 21 days ago
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🔔 It's December! That means it's One Direction Advent fic season! Advent fics are generally posted daily from December 1 to December 24/25. Don't forget you can subscribe to the author to get a daily email reminder to read their Advent fic! 🔔
🕯️ All The Lights by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 {Fic post}
“As you know, every year Syco Industries throws the Holiday bash of the year. Their annual Christmas Eve charity ball, held in the building’s lobby.”
Louis arches a brow. “Robbing a Christmas charity? That’s your brilliant idea? That’s a little low don’t you think?”
Niall snorts. “The only charity that money is going to is in Simon Cowell’s pocket and we both know it.”
He’s not exactly wrong.
“Alright sure, but I’m pretty sure Santa still frowns upon stealing.”
Niall just grins.
“Being on the nice-list is vastly overrated anyway.”
(Or a holiday heist featuring a rag-tag team of lovable criminals, a pair of exes who hate each other except for when they don’t, and a lot of festive chaos along the way).
🎁 You Should Be Here With Me by @lululawrence {Fic post}
The festive period is a traditionally hectic one in the world of Premier League football, and this year is no different. A lot is riding on how Manchester United is able to come through the fixtures in the coming weeks.
Louis and his teammates know all too well the pressure that is on their shoulders. They need to prove, not just to fans of the club but the entire league, that they still have what it takes to be a team worthy of fighting for the top of the table.
Throw in the fact that Louis is all too aware that he's not getting any younger in a profession that demands your peak physical fitness year round and the incredibly fit Harry Styles, who is part of the club's social media team, and this year's festive period might just be the most important one yet.
🎅 Your Reign is Free (to give along to Santa) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {Fic post}
It’s Christmas Eve. It’s a totally normal Christmas Eve. Harry and Louis have some friends coming by, and some totally normal birthday and Christmas plans. It’s a totally typical totally normal Christmas Eve.
A fic that takes place over 24 (+1) hours where surely everything will go totally to plan.
🦌 You'll Never More Roam by @tommokat {Fic post}
Harry likes his job as a traveling nurse. It pays well, it allows him to travel across the country, and he doesn't have to worry about an annoying coworker past an average of 13 weeks. The pros of never staying put have always beat the cons. Until one of those cons has bright blue eyes, a fluffy companion, and a heart of gold.
Tax exemptions don't hold a candle to Louis Tomlinson. And as Harry's about to find out, neither does his heart.
🌟 Find a light, hold tight by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics {Fic post}
a fic about finding light and holding tight - hanukkah for everyone!
Told from the gentile perspective of Louis, recently widowed and trying to cultivate his son’s connection to his paternal Jewishness, Find a light is intended for everyone — Jews and gentiles alike — who might find comfort in the light, wisdom, and warmth of Hanukkah.
🔔 Larry Xmas Countdown by 28goldensfics / @28goldens {Fic post}
Harry and Louis will stop at nothing to make each other happy, even if that means robbing Buckingham Palace for a set of priceless bells they use to ring on Christmas morning.
✨ Twinkling Lights, Fated Nights by Darling28 / @darling-28 {Fic post}
Louis is an Omega who doesn't like being told what to do and is happy with his single life in the snowy town of Frostbrook after a terrible previous relationship. But then Harry turns up - an Alpha who is anything but the typical macho. Instead of giving commands, he makes an effort to understand Louis, which annoys him more than anything. But Harry doesn't give up.
And maybe that's exactly why they fit together so well: Two people who don't fit the cliché at all, but who suddenly feel more for each other than they would have expected. In the midst of lights, snow and mulled wine, something begins to grow that neither of them had planned - even if Louis would rather not admit it.
A story about healing, love and finding home in each other.
❄️ Fluffcember 2024 by Candy_Kittens / @candyfloss-kittens
A collection of one-shots for Fluffcember 2024. All of these one-shots will be for One Direction rpf.
🌲 Through the Riots – Will You Guide Me When I'm Lost? by childofthelarents
His hands had a death grip on Harry's arms, making him unable to push back. "Fuck you," Harry growled, looking like he was seconds away from punching Louis straight in the face. The softness of his features had been replaced by pure fury, the green of his eyes burning into Louis' soul. As the seconds passed, Harry seemed to realize the lack of space between them, his eyes growing less piercing and more irritated as he scanned Louis' face.
~ Louis had his heart set on rooming with his best friend Zayn, but fate—or a cruel housing assignment—stuck him with Harry, who seems to hate him instantly (and boy, is that feeling mutual). Determined to find a way out, Louis quickly realizes that their fiery clashes only make things worse, fueling the hostility between them. Yet, as tempers flare and boundaries blur, their battles take an unforeseen turn, shifting into something neither of them expected.
☃️ Fading Shadows by Arezou_Styles
A cosy tale of life in 2024, almost canon, centers on Harrys and Louis marriage, their family life and quite some self-discovery that this year brings for both of them. Loads of info on ADHD included.
🎄 Christmas Play by @itstilliswhatitis
December is Harry's favourite time of year. The neighbourhood he bought a house in three years ago has a yearly Christmas decoration competition, and this year, he's set on winning. At least until his new neighbour, Louis turns out to be a grumpy Christmas Grinch. To make matters worse, his new neighbour happens to be his co-star in the new play Harry just bagged, playing the love interest to his role as first lover. The play is like a really bad fanfic, and everything is a disaster. This might be the worst December ever!
❤️ Hearts All Whole by @justanothershadeofblue {Fic post}
Father Louis Tomlinson hasn’t seen or talked to his high school boyfriend in over a decade, not since they went to different colleges and slowly grew apart. This means it’s a bit of a surprise when he looks out from the pulpit on the first Sunday in Advent and sees Harry Styles’ unmistakeable head poking up from a pew halfway back and on the left. How’s a priest supposed to make it through the madness of the holiday season with his very friendly, very attractive ex distracting him at every turn?
🛷 You are my home, my home for all seasons by starryhaze / @starryhaze28 {Fic post]
“I love you,” Louis says quietly, his voice tender. Harry’s not sure if Louis is talking to him or the camera, but either way, the words settle warmly in his chest.
Louis moves closer, holding the camcorder up, and Harry blushes as the lens focuses on him. “Look at your mummy,” Louis coos, directing his words at their unborn baby. “Isn’t he just the prettiest, carrying you?”
Harry giggles, shaking his head. “Your daddy is ridiculous,” he responds, looking pointedly into the camera, his voice light and teasing.
Or the one where Harry is seven months pregnant and he and Louis navigate the chaos of Christmas as they try to juggle festive traditions, their families, and friends while preparing for the greatest gift of all, the arrival of their baby.
🎁 Wrapped it up and Sent it by downcamethelightning / @downcamethelightnings {Fic post]
Harry was the only real crush he’d ever had. There had been people he’d shared classes with, or seen in the school hallways who he’d thought were cute, but he never had any interest in anyone beyond that point. Louis had always felt like he simply didn’t care enough about anyone to actually dedicate any time or energy to liking them, or going out with them.
But Harry was the exception.
With some (heavy) convincing from his friends, Louis decides to risk it all and tell Harry how he feels about him, and Christmas seems like the perfect time to make a move. Everyone's happy during the holidays anyway. Maybe it'll weaken the possibility that Harry will hate him forever if he doesn't feel the same.
An incredibly fluffy, teenage Christmas advent fic.
🧣2024 Advent Calendar by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way {Fic post}
25 independent one-shots with wintery/Christmas themes centering Larry Stylinson
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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hi hun!! i have another in a week :]] it's a little less cute than sunshine reader, but i read the fic where reader swore at someone and everyone was shocked and i thought it was so funnyy
i was thinking a.. hothead!reader who's got a sailor mouth and quick temper, so naturally she curses a LOT. and the boys dare her to try not to curse for just one day, and she accepts it, but without them even doing anything mischievous to tick her off, she drops something and she's like "fuck- shit, damn it!" and the boys are just giggling their head off and constantly reminding her to put money in the swear jar
ooh and maemae, i love the way you write descriptions omgg <333 especially when you write from james' pov, he's such a sweetheart!! ahh you're such an amazing writer, your stuff gives me all the warm fuzzies :] i hope you're taking care of yourself in the midst of writing all these requests!!
- ✏️
Thank you my love!
join the party
poly!marauders x hothead!reader ♡ 677 words
You know your boyfriends are plotting something. You eye them suspiciously as Sirius whispers to James, both of them giggling like children. 
“What,” you say flatly. 
James doesn’t even bother trying to hide his grin. “Nothing, sweetheart.”
You huff, biting your lip before you can call him any name that’ll make you lose your prize. It’s nine in the morning, and you’ve only got about sixteen hours to go with no cursing. Twelve if you go to bed early as a measure of self-censure. 
Remus had raised an eyebrow at you after a particularly colorful stream of expletives the night before, asking as you made your contribution to the swear jar, “Do you think you could go even one day without swearing like that?” You said you could, and Sirius had pounced on the opportunity for a wager, betting you that you couldn’t go the entire next day without using a single curse word. 
You’re sure the boys were hoping you’d forget overnight, but you weren’t accustomed to losing, and damned if you weren’t going to get your prize. Sirius had so little faith in you that he’d agreed to letting you pick what movies you all watched for the next month if you won the bet. The next month. That meant a month-long reprieve from those stupid fucking heist movies they all loved so much. 
You’re also certain that, failing their first plan of your poor memory, your boyfriends are going to be cooking up some other scheme to make you falter. One of their famous pranks, to be sure. They tease you incessantly for your short fuse, and they’re bound to try and ignite it any way they can today. 
You wonder what it’ll be. Dog breath potion slipped into your water bottle? Stink pellets tossed into your room? Or maybe something so simple as salt in your coffee?
You look down at the mug Remus handed you a minute ago, sniffing at it. They always use Remus when they want to be inconspicuous; it’s so hard to suspect him. But he wants you to lose the bet as much as anyone. 
You stand, carrying your still-full mug into the kitchen. 
“Not this time,” you mutter. 
Remus looks up from his paper, frowning at you as you stomp over to the sink. “Dove, what are you doing?” 
“You must think I’m so gullible,” you drawl, pouring the hot coffee down the drain. “There’s no way I’m ingesting anything you—” the handle of the mug slips from your grasp, the dish shattering in the sink “—ah, fuck!” You look up to see Sirius’ eyes widen, glee sparking to life, and realize what you’ve done. “Shit. Damn it!” 
Remus puts a hand over his mouth while Sirius hoots, and James simply collapses in giggles, disappearing behind the couch. 
“Tha—that was too easy,” Sirius cackles, using his forefinger to wipe under his eyes. “We didn’t even do anything yet!” 
“Sweetheart, I’m almost disappointed,” Remus says, shaking his head even as he grins from ear-to-ear. “I thought you’d make it to the afternoon at least. Get your money for the jar.” 
“That’s, what?” James' voice comes from behind the couch. “Three dollars?”
“Five,” you say gravely, holding up your favorite finger on each hand. “Fuck you, you assholes.” 
“Pretty sure that’s six, babydoll.” Sirius cheeses at you. “Gestures count, don’t they Prongs?”
“A dollar per hand,” James agrees, now recovered enough to sit up on the couch. 
You seethe at them, and Remus comes into the kitchen to help you clean up your mess, patting your shoulder consolingly. 
“We’ll put it towards date night,” he says. 
“Good idea.” Sirius kicks his feet up on the table, making a show of lounging in his chair. “I’m thinking tonight, we order in from that Indian place and watch The Italian Job. What do you think, lads?”
You bristle, but Remus sees the comeback sizzling on your tongue and squeezes your shoulder warningly. “Save your money, dove. Want me to make you some more coffee? Seems like you might need it today.”
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