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the b*tch who stole christmas

pairings ━ lee kangsoo x fem!criminal!reader

synopsis ━ kangsoo gets a hit out on a serial burglar. unfortunately, you attack homes around christmas time, stealing joy out of rich families. you have your reasons, which kangsoo will learn as he chases you down.

warnings ━ MDNI 18+ smut with plot. p in v unprotected. name calling (one "slut" comment). choking. handcuffs. childhood angst. crime. thief/burglary. long fic

notes ━ title is a spinoff of "the grinch who stole christmas"

stealing was an urge you got when you were nineteen. you remember that last christmas eve, an hour before it became christmas day. it was cool, not cold, but the weather was cool enough to have your boneslight shivering under a black windbreaker coat.

it was late, and surprisingly where you were away from the parties in hongdae, the streets were empty except for delivery vans rushing last-minute miracles to the rich.

your stomach growled louder than the church bells that would've rung at that midnight. somehow, you pictured your mom still asleep on the floor back home, too exhausted from double shifts to even pretend santa existed.

that's when you saw the mansion in hannam-dong. the holiday decoration might've costed more to setup than your yearly salary. the lights twinkling were an insult, you took it that way as your face cringed and your eye squinted at the lights.

observing the house, you noticed the front window that was covered halfway by a tree was cracked open because who bothers with security when you're that powerful?

the family inside, some chaebol heirs you'd read about in newspapers, were probably unwrapping diamonds while you had nothing but frostbite and dreams.

anger boiled your blood as you slipped through the side gate, heart hammering so hard you thought it'd shatter your ribs. you had no plan, just desperation wrapped in rage since your body seemed to move itself without any sense of logic.

the backyard tree loomed massive through the glass doors, piled high with presents that could've fed your neighborhood for months. you jimmied the lock with a hairpin and a credit card of yours that had some debt... this was something you'd practiced on your own door for fun.

at first, you struggled for a little bit. as you kneeled down from any potential witnesses.

after a few minutes the click on the lock echoed. you opened the door, very slowly, and you stepped inside at the smell of cinnamon and money. the air was so warm and it felt like another world you were engaging in.

your boots left muddy prints on marble floors, but you didn't care... smearing it so it couldn't be used as evidence later.

in a way... this was a war to you.

you walked down the long foyer, nothing how there was no noise or footsteps in the house. everyone is asleep... good.

walking around the archway into the huge living room, you had to stop yourself from freezing and staring everything in admiration. you are not supposed to be in here.

those small hands of yours reached to grab the first box underneath the huge tree. it was small. you reached for your book bag, flipping it in front of you, and threw the box inside.

afterwards, you got a rush and started grabbing the shiniest boxes... you did not know what they were... but you figured it was expensive shit.

for example, you grabbed a playstation wrapped in gold paper, and the newest samsung phone. each steal into your book bag had a kelpto rush going your veins like drugs.

you knew those kids would cry, and their perfect world would be cracked by the realities of witnessing crime for the first time... all while you finally tasted power.

a noise upstairs... which was loud laughter, broke your rush as you listened to the family upstaits be so carefree and cruel. you froze, bag half-full, but no one came down.

you moved faster, snatching jewelry from the tree skirt, and a rolex meant for some spoiled teenaged brat who was the oldest in the family. every ribbon torn felt like ripping away the lies the world fed you which was that work hard and you'll have this.

no.

they had it because they stole first from people like your mom, from kids like you.

this was justice.

by the time you slipped out the back door again, your bag bulged with thousands of dollars in materials. you ran through alleys and somehow your laughter came in a manic squeal like you were the joker or something.

you felt more alive than any christmas morning ever. you resold the materials to other criminals who paid you for the stuff, and you gained 29,211,000₩ won ($20,000 usd) that night.

that day birthed the pattern of you committing strikes in the winter and being a ghost in the summer. you targeted bigger rich families each year, but nothing matched that first pure hit.

the influential family's scandal hit papers with "chaebol christmas ruined with thieves stealing their heir's future." their tears fed you for months.

years later, you'd become the legend, but it all started there, on that christmas day when you stopped being victim and took matters into your own hands.

unfortunately for you, seoul's most notorious yadang was coming for you. the bitch who stole christmas.

seoul's underbelly is full of shit, and lee kangsoo moves through it like its a normal suburban neighborhood. the once uber driver turned yadang traded his soul for scraps of power in the drug wars.

he's not some noble vigilante since he's a broker, aka a snitch who feeds tips to prosecutors and cops, and dismantles rings while pocketing blood money.

mostly, he hunts the addicts like himself.... the broken ones peddling "philopon" (if this this not the correct term lmk) in dark alleys, and the runners who flood clubs with crystal.

lately, whispers have shifted for kangsoo.

there is a hit out, but it is not on dealers who have been the reason for seoul's many overdoses... but on an unnamed ghost.

the hit is on the serial burglar known to the rich kids in seoul as the bitch who steals christmas.

you've earned that name over three brutal years. it is almost winter tie, and kangsoo its determined to catch you before you have the chance to give trauma to families again.

every winter, from november's first chill to january's end, you strike many houses. sometimes, its two houses in one long night. you get rich homes in gangnam, itaewon, yongsan... places where families stack presents under glittering trees, oblivious to the world outside their gated walls.

you slip in like smoke, all black covered, and silent while filling a massive duffel bag with toys, gadgets, jewels, playstations, dolls, designer bags... anything wrapped in shiny paper.

christmas eve is your feast since you leave empty stockings and devastated kids which leaves parents scrambling to explain why santa skipped their house.

once spring comes you vanish and lay low while happily saving or spending the new wealth that has come to you.

to the underground, you're a myth and a curse in some way since nobody had no clue on who you are. with criminals, usually they knew eachother and never snitch. however, nobody has a single clue as to who the thief might be.

"I heard that she stole from gwan hee's family on the night that he got arrested..." people gossiped while nursing soju and playing cards.

kangsoo hears it too, but he dismisses it at first.

petty theft? not his lane.

yes, gwanhee's kids got hit twice in one night with the arrest of their corrupt father and getting robbed of their riches. however to kangsoo, drugs rot the city from the inside.... stolen presents are just rich people's problems.

however, the bounty climbs.

prosecutors want you for the optics since cracking down on joy thieves during the holidays looks good on tv. kangsoo? he needs another win. the high of taking down gwanhee was something, but now he needed more.

nailing you could buy him another high, a favor, and maybe even erase some debts.

november hits, and everyone was right... you're active again.

another mansion, the same neighborhood you hit for the first time in hannam-dong, loses a fleet of drones and gaming setups. a home in seongbuk-dong on the same night wakes to bare branches under the tree.

kids cry on the news, parents rage on forums about upping their security systems... even though it was easy for you to disarm those.

kangsoo's phone vibrates with an alert for another hit and this time it is in yongsan. many expensive ps5s vanished from a storage unit owned by a rich father with wrappers scattered like confetti.

he smirks at first... kids without toys?

tragic.

it is always winter, always presents, always the elite getting hit.

kangsoo notices how no poor person, or anybody middle class, gets hit. it is always the people with millions to their name. he started thinking about possible suspects to chase, trying to use his photographic memory somehow to see if he's missed something.

first, communists were his first wild guess.

it made sense in that paranoid, old-school way that seoul's elite getting robbed blind every winter, joy redistributed whether they liked it or not. h

he pictured some underground marxist cell in icheon full of bitter ex-professors or factory workers that were radicalized by inequality targeted chaebol heirs to expose capitalist excess. maybe they stole toys fand sold them to fund a stupid revolution or some shit.

kansgoo even shook up a few lefty student groups in sinchon and snarled at them about needing to steal to fund their cause... unfortunately they were just posers smoking weed and whining about tuition. no real communists.

the second suspects in his mind were north koreans. fuck, that one kept kangsoo up some nights since state-sponsored ghosts slipping across the dmz and hitting seoul's rich families during the holidays would start a democratic and worldwide crisis.

why presents? he wonders. maybe because of psychological warfare, obviously. it can make south korean kids hate christmas and deflate the miracle on the han river bullshit.

kangsoo tailed a couple suspicious delivery vans near yongsan base and eyed every accent that sounded too pyongyang-ish.

unfortunately, no intel from his cop contacts backed it up since stealing presents was too clean for spies.

the third suspects were anarchists which fitted your own vibe like a glove in his head. in this case, it would not be about money but about burning the system doll by doll.

rich families symbolized everything rotten like inherited wealth, gated excess while half the city ate ramyeon on christmas. you weren't stealing for profit (or so he thought then) since you were vandalizing hope.

kangsoo crashed a few squat meets in mullae but it was nothing but crusty punks covered with bad tattoos.

your escapes were too slick and too personal for ideology alone. most groups would take credit for these robberies, and you never did.

the yadang was crazy and bold enough to suspect chinese triads muscle-flexing in the black market toy trade. kangsoo had leads from some scorched rich kid turned robin hood to a nanny with a grudge.

whoever you were, you had a life the rest of the year.

student doing bad shit during the winter break? a seasonal worker? or someone who could vanish into normalcy when the snow melted.

one crisp december night, kangsoo's cruising yongsan in his black g-wagon while keeping his eyes open for addicts lurking near parks or hiding around the influential neighbors in gangnam.

streetlights casting long shadows on snow-dusted paths as he drives along the salt covered roads.

it did not take long before kangsoo spotted a figure ahead walking alone.

this was a shadow in all black, hood up, moving with purpose and walking with a light stomp on their feet.

it was you, of course, with a large bag slung over one shoulder, bulging unnaturally.

something about you screams wrong to kangsoo. the yadang slows the car and his long window cracks open from his truck. unfortunately to him the cold air rushes in, carrying the faint scent of pine from nearby decorations.

"hey, what’s a young lady like you doing out here so late?" kangsoo's voice is casual, laced with that street lingo being part concern, part probe.

he's good at this, reading people like open books due to his great memory.

you freeze for a split second as heart slamming against ribs. this had to have been a cop, or someone employed by one.

you don't turn, and you don't speak at all. you just keep walking with your boots crunching softly on the frosty ground. the park's empty, and benches are iced over.

you've got the bag heavy with tonight's take with a haul from a penthouse down the street... limited edition controllers, vr headsets, stacks of gift cards. it was enough to fence for months.

the car trails you, engine purring low.

"come on, it's freezing and it is dangerous out here alone. do you need a ride, miss?" kangsoo calls out from the driver's seat.

you stay silent.

you've evaded cops, guards, dogs. this guy's just another nosy driver, which you later thought wrong. however something prickles with his tone that seems to be too knowing.

you pick up pace, bag thumping against your hip.

kangsoo matches, tires whispering on asphalt, "not much of a talker, huh?"

you did not walk for long before the path narrows into a small alley, graffiti-tagged walls closing in, dumpsters reeking of kimchi and rot. it was the perfect escape route since you've mapped these veins of the city like it was your own veins.

stupidity creeps in, adrenaline whispering run.

you hit feet.

with the back on your back, your boots slap the pavement and your breath fogs the air as you bolt down the alley where kangsoo could not drive his large g-wagon through.

the gift filled bag bounces wildly, with its contents clinking.

you hear the car door slam, footsteps pounding behind.

"hey!"

kangsoo's fast, years of chases honing him. this time you're faster since you had a head start. you vault a low fence, duck under a dangling chain, and weave through backstreets you know by heart.

of course your lungs burn but freedom calls and you lose him in the maze, slipping into a subway station and moving blocks away.

thankfully, the bag is intact. after a point, you rest your hands on your knees while standing, taking a deep breath before you continue the walk back home.

back in the park kangsoo groans in frustration, cursing under his breath. he scans the alley which is empty.

down the street sirens start to wail.

there was a hit and reports match from his intel.

black figure, large bag.

the yadang's mind clicks. t

he runner and the thief.... was you.

"fuck," he mutters but grinning despite himself, "got you now, you little shit."

he has your face now.... photographed perfectly in his memory from that brief glimpse under the hood.

you were young, an attractive woman.

it was strange, though.

why presents? why kids?

most thieves grab cash and jewels but you target joy itself. it's… personal in a way and intriguing.

kangsoo dives in, calling favors. cctv pulls were blurry, but enough for him. the black market whispers get back to him about someone fencing toys in bulk.

he stakes out fences, and shakes down informants with his intel and charm.

you're careful, but patterns betray you.

you feel the heat once jobs get riskier. guards doubled at homes and alarms upgraded thanks to some of your victims being owners of security companies themselves.

however, you knew that the yadang's on your tail.

lee kangsoo, the snitch who topples drug empires. soon, you realized that the guy in the g-wagon was kangsoo himself, and he was s close to catching you if you didn't run as fast as you did on time.

you've survived worse, you reassure yourself.

three weeks later, one week before christmas:

it is midnight as you sit in a dingy diner in jongno. the grease lingers in the air as you slump in a booth, dressed normally in a blue flannel soft against skin, nice blue jeans, and a white clean tank top.

your hair was down with no hood. you did not want a rob tonight, since you had plans with your sibling in the morning.

in a third person point of view, you just looked like a tired young woman nursing potatoes, with steam still rising from the plate. you did not have the large duffel bag with you, all you had was your purse filled with some cash and chapstick.

while poking your fork into some potatoes, the door of the diner jingles.

a group piles in with rough men, some with leather jackets. their laughter fills the diner as soju orders fly.

at first, you stared at your dinner plate. you were at least pretending to be hungry, intimated by the loud men in the diner.

once you glance up, your fork pauses as your soft eyes look directly in front of you.

him.

kangsoo scans the room, a habit. this before his eyes lock on yours. in your mind, you can see the recognition and realization pop up in his features.

it is your face from the park, a little more awake now in the light, but unmistakable.

those eyes of yours, according to kangsoo, are still defiant even seated.

you stare back at him with your potatoes forgotten.

of course your heart drops since the yadang after you is in here and you notice how he freezes too with his crew chattering oblivious.

a slow smile creeps on his face. a smirk like a predator spotting prey.

minutes stretch and you can't move, pinned by that gaze. the yadang's crew settles in a booth opposite but he sits facing you, never breaking eye contact.

once you notice him whispering to his men while smirking, you signal the waitress.

"check, please. now." slip her cash, way more than what your total was.

you grab your purse with your legs feeling like jelly as you nearly speed walk out the door. you did not notice the cold slapping you while the parking lot gravel crunches under your boots.

the streetlights are yellow and empty cars gleam with frost.

as you start to walk away from the diner building, you hear the diner's door so a jingle... the same jingle that was heard when the yadang came into the place.

you walk and a voice echoes across the parking lot,

"so.. you're the bitch who's been stealing christmas, huh?"

as you freeze in the diner's dimly lit parking lot snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, sticking to your blue flannel and jeans. however your heart hammers hard enough to shake them off.

you turn slowly, spotting kangsoo leaning against the doorframe, his silhouette broad under the neon sign as he smirks with a knowing look, seeing you with widened eyes.

the man's crew of three men linger behind him but the yadang's eyes locked on you alone. that smug curl to his lips says he knows he's got you cornered.

you bolt with feet crunching over gravel and ice as you sprint toward the alley behind the diner. the potatoes you scarfed down sit heavy in your stomach, but the adrenaline in your body propells you forward.

shouts erupt behind you as his voice starts to bark orders while running but you weave through the narrow streets of seoul's dark corners..

yongsan district blurs past with flickering streetlights and shuttered shops along with the distant hum of traffic on the han river bridge.

he's faster than you expect.... or maybe you're just tired from the long night. heavy boots pound closer, closing the gap as you duck into a side alley stacked with overflowing dumpsters.

your lungs burn and your legs start aching from the uneven pavement but you push on, glancing back to see him gaining, his shirt flapping like a predator's wings.

"stop running!" he yells but his voice laced with that infuriating amusement.

you round a corner, aiming for the main road where you might blend into the late-night crowd, but kangsoo lunges.

the man's arm snakes around your waist from behind, fingers digging into your side with a grip that's too firm, too close. it steals your breath how the heat of his body presses against your back. however you twist, elbow jabbing at him.

the yadang anticipates it, yanking you off your feet and onto the hard pavement.

"gotcha," he murmurs, hot breath on your neck as he hauls you toward his black g-wagon idling at the alley's southern mouth.

you kick and thrash to get away from him and to escape, once again, but he's stronger. the man tosses you into the backseat like you're nothing more than a sack of stolen goods.

the door slams, and he's in the driver's seat before you can scramble up, with his crew piling into the car behind his.

the engine roars to life, tires screeching as he peels out, leaving the city... and your freedom... in the dust.

the drive to his hideout is silent tension, your wrists already zip-tied behind you by him and kangsoo's eyes flick to the rearview mirror every few seconds, catching yours with that mix of a hunter's triumph and something darker.

you glare back with your chin lifted defiantly.

inside, fear coils tight because who is this yadang bastard, and what does he want with you?

the car pulls into an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts, the kind of place where no good shit happens. kangsoo drags you inside with his hand firm on your bicep, leading you down a dim corridor to a stark interrogation room.

the room has bare concrete walls, with a single metal table bolted to the floor, a harsh light overhead. there are no windows, just the echo of your footsteps and his steady breathing.

kangsoo shoves you into a chair, but instead of cuffing you to it, he circles you like a wolf and takes off his windbreaker coat to reveal the taut lines of his body under a black shirt.

"sit pretty," he says.

you stay silent, watching as he pulls a pair of real handcuffs from his pocket which is cold steel that clicks around your wrists, chaining you to the table's edge.

the metal bites into your skin and it hurts as it restricts your movement. however, you look up at kangsoo and see that his gaze pins you more, roaming over your face with your flannel straining against your chest.

"you know why you're here," he starts, leaning in close enough that you smell the faint smoke on his breath, "three years of hitting those rich fucks around christmas. stealing kids' toys, gadgets, all that shit. leaving 'em crying while you cash in on the black market. what's your deal, huh? some junkie habit? are you a kleptomaniac or just a bitch with a grudge?"

you spit back, "fuck you. i don't owe you answers. give me an attorney."

kangsoo chuckles as he starts stepping behind you.

when his hands land on your shoulders, you flinch as his thumbs press into the knots there.... massaging, almost, before they slide down your arms.

"oh, you'll talk. pretty girls like you always do." kangsoo's fingers trace the curve of your waist, echoing that alley grab and you shiver despite yourself.

he's attracted to you, you realize.

it is the way that his touch lingers on your clothes body. the man's eyes darkening as they take in your features.

how can someone so beautiful be so goddamn mean? wrecking families for her own twisted payback?

"let me go," you hiss.

the yadang ignores it, yanking your chair back from the table just enough to free your cuffed hands' range.

one hand of his fists your hair, tilting your head back to expose your throat.

"tell me where you fence the goods," he demands, but his other hand is already unbuttoning your flannel, exposing the lace of your baby blue bra.

you gasp as he shoves it open, with your breasts spilling to the air itself. kangsoo thirsts as his hand goes to palm your breast roughly, thumb circling your nipple until it hardens.

"fuck you," you stutter as your body's betraying you. you can feel how wet you're getting in your jeans as his plump lips brushing your ear, "such a mouth on you.... i bet it's good for more than backtalk."

he straightens, hauling you up by the cuffs so you're bent over the table, ass plump to kangsoo's eyes.

the cold metal presses against your hips as he kicks your legs apart. kangaroo's hands reach around to unbutton your jeans before he yanks down in one swift pull, your baby blue panties following.

you're so exposed but the thrill of it makes your pussy clench.

kangsoo's groans at the sight while palming your ass cheeks and spreading them to see the wetness collecting your your vagina hole.

"fuck, look at this... you pretty little thief with a perfect cunt. you hurt those families, you know that? you know that those kids waking up to nothing.... but damn if it doesn't make me hard thinking about breaking you."

you hear kangsoo's belt clinking and his zipper rasping. the yadang's cock springs free which is thick while slapping against your thigh.

he rubs the head along your slit, coating his hungry tip in your swollen and growing wetness.

"where's the next hit?" he growls, but before you can snark back, he thrusts in deep, stretching your pussy around his length.

you cry out, the sudden fullness making your walls flutter but he doesn't wait, pounding into you with brutal snaps of his hips, the table rattles under the force.

"talk... you know i'll fuck the info out of you."

kangsoo's hand wraps around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make stars burst behind your eyes, cutting off your air in pulses. you gasp, bucking back against him involuntarily, the choke heightening every drag of his cock inside you.

"that's it," he rasps, "take this dick while you think about confessing. your pussy's gripping me so tight... bet no one's fucked you like this, huh? a mean but pretty little slut stealing christmas joy."

you moan, as words start tumbling out in fragments.. "black… market in itaewon… fuck, harder." kangsoo's not satisfied, releasing your throat to slap your ass.

he pulls out briefly, only to flip you onto your back on the table. the cuffs on your wrists twist painfully but erotically as he hikes your legs over his shoulders diving back in.

he fucks you face-to-face now with his eyes boring into yours with that fascinated intensity.

"ahhh, you're gorgeous when you're wrecked," he mutters. the man's thumb finds your puffy clit, rubbing circles that make you arch against the table, "how's a face like this ruining holidays? tell me everything."

you shatter around him first and your orgasm rips through you as his cock hits that good spot deep inside. kangsoo's hand chokes you again lightly to prolong it. h

he follows with a guttural curse, slamming home and flooding your pussy with hot cum.

he stays buried, panting, as aftershocks fade.

finally, he pulls out, cum dripping down your thighs as he uncuffs you, rubbing your wrists gently.... a contrast to the roughness from before.

you slump as he zips up, but his expression softens, that attraction lingering in his gaze.

"listen," he says, "we still have to talk.... but.... if you stop this robbing shit, i'll cut you a deal which will be community service... you will get no jail time. just… walk away from it. for both our sakes."

you nod tiredly.

"deal," you whisper, still in a gaze from lust.

ten months later:

you're reborn in kangsoo's world.

there was no more lone wolf since that night in his interrogation room since you're his shadow now, in a strange way. he teaches you the yadang shit... sniffing out dealers in hongdae clubs, tailing addicts through mapo alleys, feeding tips to prosecutors for fat envelopes of cash.

you learn fast, but kangsoo's crew was wary about you at first. they still referred to you as the christmas thief for a while but after you stopped a ring fencing fake philopon in dongdaemun, they shut up.

everyone knew that you were kangsoo's in his g-wagon, your body is always pressed close to his, making out while his hand rests on your thigh like ownership.

he's charming, and soft when nobody else is around.

when october ends... the itch starts.

that itch.

you pace the tiny apartment of kangsoo's that you live in now... paid for with blood money as your fingers twitch for black clothes, for the weight of a sack, for that rush of torn wrapping paper and shattered illusions.

it's not about the stuff anymore since it was the suffering of those rich brats waking to empty trees, and parents' faces crumpling on the news.

you craved it like air and kangsoo finds you nearly planning to hit a house in apgujeong.

kangsoo doesn't yell at you or anything. as you're on the ground, with your hands on your head in shame... he crouches and tilts your chin up with calloused fingers.

"what do you want, baby?" kangsoo's voice is intimate, and the way he says it is like each time he's buried inside of you.

you glare through tears you hate, "i want them to hurt again. the ones with everything. i want to steal their fucking joy, soo."

the yadang studies you with thumb brushing your lip, smearing a drop of blood from where you bit it raw earlier. there was no judgment in his eyes..... he's seen worse monsters.

hell, he is one.

that's when he smiles, "there is no need to steal presents anymore." he pulls you up and rests you against his body in a hug, "we're gonna catch someone bigger. park min-jun... that chaebol bastard pushing premium crystal to gangnam kids. we are going to capture him, later." kangsoo continues, "you get to break in, plant the bugs, and make him suffer without touching a single toy. the rich prick goes down, and kids stop dying from overdose... see pretty girl... your hate still gets fed proper."

you nod, slow at first, before realizing that kangsoo has found an alternative... just for you.

kangsoo's hand is on your back as he smirks down at your pretty face... "good girl,"

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