#berlin imagine

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ cherry ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ berlin x hostage!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is a part one to this imagine, scarface!

˚ ༘♡ four trillion won.

˚ ༘♡ that was the amount they intended to steal, an unimaginable fortune. the audacity of their plan stunned you, even as you sat there in silence. you couldn’t understand why they hadn’t already taken the money and disappeared into the night. why target the korean mint, one of the most heavily secured institutions in the country, knowing full well that the highest figures in government and law enforcement would throw the full extent of their resources against them? it was only after you pressed your ear against the locked door of the conference room you were being held in that you learned the truth. two of the masked criminals spoke in hushed tones outside, unaware of your eavesdropping. they weren’t stealing money, they were printing it. trillions of won, created right there in the heart of the mint. they had turned the hostages into laborers for their grand design.

˚ ༘♡ the sheer boldness of their plan was breathtaking. how could they possibly believe they would escape unscathed with such a colossal operation? the more you thought about it, the more impossible it seemed, yet there you were, locked away in this quiet chamber while chaos reigned elsewhere in the building. the government had to be handling this delicately, you thought. surely, they were devising a plan to save you and the others. but doubt crept in. could even the most experienced strategists outmaneuver criminals who had taken control of the mint and were orchestrating a crime of this magnitude?

˚ ༘♡ time felt meaningless in the isolation of the room. the only sign that a day had passed was the clock mounted on the wall, its rhythmic ticking drilling into your ears. you hadn’t seen anyone since being brought here, hadn’t exchanged a word with a single soul. the only sounds were muffled voices from the floors below and the occasional shuffle of footsteps beyond the door.

˚ ༘♡ you sat on a velvet couch, its soft fabric a sinister comfort in this nightmare, staring blankly at the far wall. thoughts of your coworkers plagued your mind. you pictured their faces, their fear, their desperation. you knew they were suffering far worse than you, trapped in the thick of it while you were left here in this eerie silence. guilt gnawed at you, but so did dread. you wanted to believe the government would send in a rescue team, that the nightmare would end in a blaze of heroics. but you knew better. any such attempt could end in bloodshed, a massacre for everyone trapped inside the mint.

˚ ༘♡ the sharp metallic click of the door unlocking shattered the suffocating silence of the room, sending a jolt through your body. instinctively, you scrambled to your feet, adrenaline surging through your veins, but the moment your eyes landed on the figure stepping through the doorway, your legs nearly gave out beneath you. it was berlin.

˚ ༘♡ in spite of the hahoe mask obscuring most of his face, there was no mistaking him. you’d heard his voice, his threatening commands, his venomous tone bleeding through the walls. he wasn’t just another cog in this terrifying machine, he was at the heart of it, the one pulling strings inside the mint while another, someone they called the professor, directed the chaos from elsewhere. berlin wasn’t the kind of man you could reason with, his presence was a cold, oppressive force that turned your stomach to stone.

˚ ༘♡ he removed the mask slowly, revealing a face carved from ice. his expression was devoid of warmth, his eyes glinting with something darker than malice, a kind of calculated cruelty that made you feel like prey cornered by a predator. your breath caught in your throat as he slammed the door shut behind him, the sound reverberating like a death knell in the confined space.

˚ ༘♡ “did you miss me?” his voice was low, mocking, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t find your voice. your knees buckled, and you collapsed back onto the velvet sofa as he strode toward you with slow, measured steps, each one harsher, each one amplifying the dread pooling in your chest. his hand rested on the rifle slung over his shoulder.

˚ ༘♡ he stopped mere inches from you, so close that his legs brushed against your knees. the air between you felt suffocating, stagnant with peril. his shadow loomed over you and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up at him.

˚ ༘♡ “get up,” he ordered, his tone cutting like a blade. “we’ve got work to do.”

˚ ༘♡ your body refused to move. whether it was fear or disbelief, you weren’t sure, but the hesitation sealed your fate. his hand shot out, clamping around your wrist with a grip that felt like iron. before you could even register the pain, he yanked you to your feet with such force that you stumbled into him, your heart pounding wildly as his dark eyes bore into yours. there was no mercy in that gaze, no humanity, only control.

˚ ༘♡ “what do you need me to do?” you asked, the words tumbling out in a whisper, trembling as if your voice alone might provoke him further.

˚ ༘♡ his response wasn’t immediate. instead, his lips curled into a cruel grin, one that made your blood run cold. he tilted his head slightly, studying you like a wolf savoring its next move. then, without warning, his hand shot up, his fingers wrapping around your neck.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t choke you, not fully, but his grip was aggresive, sending a clear message that any resistance would be futile. his thumb pressed against your pulse, a mocking acknowledgment of the fear coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ “what i need,” he said, his voice a dangerous growl, “is for you to listen.”

˚ ༘♡ before you could respond, he pulled his pistol from its holster, the cold steel brushing against your forehead. your breath became erratic, and tears blurred your vision as terror consumed you. the gun pressed harder against your head, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. he didn’t speak, didn’t move, he simply held you there.

˚ ༘♡ the silence stretched into eternity, every second an excruciating reminder of how close you were to the edge of oblivion. then, as abruptly as he’d grabbed you, he released his hold.

˚ ༘♡ you stumbled back, crashing into the edge of the desk, the sharp corner digging into your spine. tears streaked down your cheeks, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you stared at him, your voice shaking with anger and desperation. “what kind of psycho are you?” you spat through the tears. “i’ve done everything you’ve asked. I haven’t disobeyed a single order!”

˚ ༘♡ his laugh was cold, abrupt, and vacant of humor. he holstered the pistol with a conscious indifference, his eyes never leaving yours. “i know,” he said, his voice ridden with disdain.

˚ ༘♡ he picked up the assault rifle with a practically casual motion, his cold gaze never departing you. the barrel of the gun rose slowly, aiming directly at your head. the air in the room thickened, suffocating, and the only sound was the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. your legs quivered beneath you as though the terror of his presence alone had crushed you. sliding to the floor, you tried to speak, to plead for mercy, but your lips trembled, and no sound came. the words dissolved into the air, swallowed by the apprehension that left you paralyzed.

˚ ༘♡ he placed his finger on the trigger, his expression unreadable, detached, like this was just another mundane task in a long list of crimes. you stared down the cold, unyielding barrel of the rifle, waiting for the inevitable. and then, gunfire. a deafening roar. your eyes slammed shut, and you flinched, the sound of bullets tearing into the wall behind you ricocheting in your skull. debris rained down, and your breath came in shallow, gasping bursts. when you opened your eyes, he was lowering the gun, his actions unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to terrify you.

˚ ༘♡ “rio, get in here,” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding, shattering the tense silence.

˚ ༘♡ you barely registered the door opening as your chest heaved, struggling to catch your breath. a younger man entered, casually carrying a camera setup as if he were walking into a studio rather than a hostage situation. rio, you guessed, from the name berlin had called. his demeanor was unnervingly lighthearted, a jarring contrast to the man who had just fired bullets inches from your head.

˚ ༘♡ berlin turned his attention back to you, his cold eyes piercing through you as he slowly stalked toward where you were curled up on the floor. his boots echoed against the hard surface, each step jarring. then, unexpectedly, he crouched down in front of you. he reached out, his gloved hand brushing against your trembling fingers before wiping away the tears streaking your face. the gesture was gentle, but it felt like he was taunting you.

˚ ༘♡ he tucked a stray lock of your disheveled hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so you were forced to look at him. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, his tone laced with condescension and faint amusement. “but you looked far too proper. too polished. not the image of a convincing hostage.” his words sank into you like poison, cold and sharp, leaving you speechless.

˚ ༘♡ before you could respond, rio’s voice cut through the tension, cheerful and jarring. “don’t listen to him. berlin just likes torturing people.” his grin was wide, almost playful, but it didn’t reach his eyes. the casual cadence in his tone made you shudder.

˚ ༘♡ berlin shot rio a hard, withering glare that silenced him instantly. the mood in the room darkened, the tension coiling tighter as both men pulled on their hahoe masks. rio stepped forward, adjusting the camera, and handed you a crumpled piece of paper. your hands shook as you took it, the paper feeling heavier than it should have, as though the weight of whatever was written on it could crush you.

˚ ༘♡ “what is this?” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse and shaking. your hair hung in messy strands around your face, your clothes rumpled and stained from where you’d slid to the floor, every inch of you a reflection of the chaos unraveling around you.

˚ ༘♡ rio positioned the camera with precision, angling it to focus solely on you. “when i say go,” he said with an unsettling lightness, “read it. and look at the camera. don’t mess it up.”

˚ ༘♡ you unfolded the paper with trembling hands, your tears smudging the ink as you tried to make sense of the scrawled words. your pulse thundered in your ears as you glanced between the two masked figures, their faces unreadable, their stillness oppressive.

˚ ༘♡ the camera’s red light blinked on. rio stepped back, folding his arms as berlin stood in the background, his rifle now resting at his side. “go,” rio said, his tone commanding despite the casualness of his earlier demeanor.

˚ ༘♡ the cold steel of berlin’s pistol pressed against your temple, leading you to freeze you in place. every nerve in your body screamed to move, to fight, but you couldn’t. his presence mounted over you, magnified by the hahoe mask concealing his expression. you could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, threatening to drown out the words you were about to speak.

˚ ༘♡ your lips parted and you forced yourself to read from the crumpled paper in your hand. “this is a message to the korean defense ministry,” you began, your voice thin and uneven. your hands shook, the paper rustling audibly in the tense silence. “the criminals have taken me, the daughter of the defense minister, hostage.” you paused, struggling to steady your breathing. the weight of berlin’s pistol and the red, unblinking eye of the camera intensified the unbearable dread coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ “they order that no action should be taken in aiding local enforcement in the matter of the crisis in the mint.” your voice wavered, breaking slightly as you swallowed the lump in your throat. the next line felt like poison, each word lodging itself in your chest. “as if any mandate is given… the defense minister will never see his precious daughter again.”

˚ ༘♡ an agonizing silence followed, the tension in the air so thick it felt like it might crush you. rio, standing behind the camera, finally broke it with an unsettling grin. “i think that’s good,” he said, pulling off his mask, his tone disturbingly mirthful, as though you’d just finished rehearsing a scene for a school play.

˚ ༘♡ berlin followed suit, removing his mask with slow consideration. his face was as composed as ever, his expression unreadable, yet his eyes betrayed a faint trace of satisfaction. he slid the pistol back into its holster, the click of metal echoing in the small, intolerable space.

˚ ༘♡ “you did well,” berlin said, his voice calm but dripping with mockery. “almost brought a tear to my eye.” he paused. “when your father sees this video, I have no doubt he’ll abandon any foolish notions of sending reinforcements. wouldn’t want him making a mistake he’d regret for the rest of his life.”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t speak. the words wouldn’t come even if you tried. your body felt limp, burdened by the fear coursing through you. your eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet his gaze, the humiliation and terror blending into a numbing haze.

˚ ༘♡ berlin exhaled sharply, clearly unimpressed by your lack of answer. “fine, don’t say anything,” he muttered. rio had already begun disassembling the camera, his relaxed efficiency grating against the gravity of what had just transpired. berlin turned to leave, but not before throwing one last barb your way.

˚ ༘♡ “i’ll send someone to bring you food later,” he said, his tone tranquil, as though he were discussing a room service order. “and stop acting so disturbed. i’ve already told you, you won’t get hurt unless your father does something idiotic.”

˚ ༘♡ his words hung in the air as he followed rio out of the room. the heavy door slammed shut behind them, and the sound of the lock sliding into place echoed ominously in the silence.

˚ ༘♡ you remained where you were, collapsed on the cold floor, your body trembling uncontrollably. your breath came in shallow gasps, each inhale feeling like it might rip your chest apart. the slip of paper dropped from your fingers, landing on the floor akin to a ghost of the words you’d spoken.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze drifted to the wall, where the faint outline of bullet holes from berlin’s earlier demonstration still lingered. it was a cruel reminder of how precarious your situation was, how fragile your life had become. you tried to gather your thoughts, to steady yourself, but the crushing reality of what you’d just done, what they’d made you do, settled over you akin to an inescapable gloom.

˚ ༘♡ the room was quiet now, but the cruelty of their threats, their presence, still lingered, suffocating and relentless. you were alone again, yet you could feel their eyes on you, even from beyond the locked door. the words you’d spoken would soon reach your father. whether they would save you or sentence you to death, you had no way of knowing. all you could do was wait and wonder how much further they’d push you before you shattered completely.

˚ ༘♡ another day dragged by, wretched with misery and isolation. the meal left for you was delivered not by berlin but by a masked woman, who you identified as nairobi. you only knew her name because the guard outside your door addressed her so casually, as if this nightmare was their mundane routine. the food sat untouched. the idea of eating felt almost laughable. hunger clawed at your stomach, but your appetite had long since been smothered by fear and despair.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t sleep. even when you closed your eyes, the silence of the room became deafening, amplifying every creak, every muffled voice, every thought. it left you no escape, only an endless loop of dread. the hours blurred together, and though you tried to find some shred of humanity in fixing your tangled hair and wiping away the remnants of smeared makeup, it was futile. the mirror reflected not a person but a ghost of one.

˚ ༘♡ you thought, bitterly, that the solitude would break you long before anyone had the chance to pull a trigger. this room had become a prison in every sense, its walls closing in, your own mind a tormentor. it felt like time itself was disparaging you, dragging endlessly on.

˚ ༘♡ on what must have been the third day, something shattered the monotonous rhythm. the muffled voices on the floor below you grew louder, more agitated, their tones sharper and more frantic. you pressed your ear to the door, your pulse quickening as you tried to make out the words. and then, suddenly, a gunshot.

˚ ༘♡ the sound was deafening and raucous. you flinched violently, stumbling back from the door, your heart hammering so hard it felt as though it might burst. the echo of the shot reverberated through the building, and then, silence. ominous, oppressive silence.

˚ ༘♡ your mind raced. had someone been killed? one of the hostages? one of the criminals? your breath quickened, each inhale feeling more shallow than the last. you strained to hear anything beyond the stillness, but nothing came.

˚ ༘♡ minutes ticked by like hours before the sound of approaching footsteps outside your door made you freeze. the lock clicked, and the door creaked open. berlin stepped in, and the sight of him sent a surge of fear crashing over you.

˚ ༘♡ he looked different. the composed, almost smug demeanor he had worn like armor before was gone. sweat clung to his sun-tanned skin, and his dark hair was damp, strands clinging to his forehead. his movements were sharp, erratic, like a man barely keeping control of something volatile within himself.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t move,” he rasped, his voice rough, the edge of it sharper than you’d ever heard before.

˚ ༘♡ you stood motionless, your body locked in place as he strode toward you with purpose. without warning, his hand slid along your midriff and waist, his touch invasive and deliberate.

˚ ༘♡ “what are you doing?” you managed to ask, your voice trembling as his fingers moved down to your hips. the sensation made your skin crawl, a mixture of fear and indignation boiling inside you.

˚ ༘♡ “making sure you’re not carrying something you shouldn’t be,” he replied coldly, his eyes narrowing as they bored into yours. his gaze was darker than before, something dangerous simmering just beneath the surface. “one of your co-workers decided to do something moronic,” he continued, his tone flat yet menacing. “and that will be the first and last time anything of that sort happens under my watch.”

˚ ༘♡ you swallowed hard, your throat dry as his words sank in. he stepped back slightly, but the tension in the air remained suffocating.

˚ ༘♡ “rules exist for a reason,” he said, his voice strained with warning. “and when they’re broken, there are consequences. severe ones.”

˚ ༘♡ his words dripped with malice, each syllable a remnant of the power he held. you didn’t need to ask what had happened downstairs, the gunshot told you everything. berlin’s words weren’t merely a warning, they were a promise.

˚ ༘♡ you stood there, trembling, your thoughts plagued with what might have led to the shot, who might have paid the price. you didn’t dare ask, he would not tell you. berlin’s gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he turned, his steps swift and purposeful.

˚ ༘♡ “wait,” you called out, your voice hushed but adequate enough to be heard through the quiet.

˚ ༘♡ berlin stopped in his tracks, his body tense, the sharp turn of his head exuding equal parts vexation and interest. his piercing eyes locked onto yours, and for a minute, he said nothing, letting the weight of his stare bear down on you. “what?” he demanded, his tone jeering, eyebrows raised in irritation.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze flicked down to the pistol strapped to his holster, then back up to his face. the thought that had formed in your mind was reckless, desperate, but it burned too fiercely to ignore. perhaps it was the days of isolation gnawing at your sanity, the endless hours of silence breaking you down. perhaps it was the suffocating fear that someone you knew might have just been killed, their life burnt out like a candle while you sat helplessly. or perhaps it was simply madness. whatever the reason, you made your choice.

˚ ༘♡ your legs moved before your mind could catch up. closing the distance between you, your breath unstable as you stood mere inches from him. berlin’s expression flashed with surprise, his body stiffening at your sudden proximity. you leaned in, your trembling lips brushing against his, and kissed him.

˚ ༘♡ for a heartbeat, everything stopped. the air seemed to crackle with tension, your pulse roaring in your ears. you had half-expected him to shove you away, to respond with mockery or fury, but he didn’t. instead, berlin leaned into you, his lips pressing firmly against yours. his hands, strong and willful, slid into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he deepened the kiss. his touch was practiced, commanding, and for a vanishing instant, you felt yourself lose control, immersed in the sudden intimacy.

˚ ༘♡ but the pistol. your mind screamed at you, yanking you back to reality. your hand moved instinctively, reaching for the cold grip of his weapon, but your fingers hesitated, trembling just inches away. the weight of what you were attempting began to sink in. even if you managed to grab it, even if you were fast enough, berlin still had his rifle slung over his shoulder. he was trained, dangerous, and ruthless. you would be dead before you even had a chance to fire. the consequences of your impulsive plan became glaringly clear, and your resolve vanished.

˚ ༘♡ finally, you broke the kiss, your breath uneven as you stepped back, your lips tingling from the lingering heat of his. berlin didn’t move for a short while, his hand still resting in your hair, his expression indistinct. slowly, he straightened, wiping the corner of his mouth with a measured motion. your crimson lipstick had left a faint stain on his lips, a warm mark against his otherwise cold exterior.

˚ ༘♡ he glanced down at his fingers, then back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you’re a lovely girl,” he said, his tone soft but laced with condescension, “but don’t you think you’re a little young for me?”

˚ ༘♡ his words stung, slashing through the haze of your reckless attempt. he reached for his pistol, not in alarm, but almost as if reminding you of its presence, and adjusted it in the holster, his gaze glistening with quiet amusement.

˚ ༘♡ “nice try,” he added, his voice low, his smirk widening slightly. “but let me give you some advice, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

˚ ༘♡ the door creaked open again, breaking the heated tension, and this time, it was nairobi and tokyo who stepped inside, their presence an abrupt shift in the air. their eyes immediately fell on you and berlin, and their expressions morphed into those of stunned bewilderment. nairobi’s brows shot up, her gaze drifting between berlin’s crimson-stained lips and your disheveled appearance. your hair was still messy, your lipstick smeared, and your clothes rumpled from the chaos of the last few moments. tokyo’s expression, however, was sharper, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene with a mix of suspicion and barely concealed fury.

˚ ༘♡ “i think our hostage has developed stockholm syndrome,” nairobi said with a laugh, her voice breaking through the awkward atmosphere. her tone was playful, almost teasing, as if she were enjoying the absurdity of the situation.

˚ ༘♡ you flushed with embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks. being seen like this, vulnerable, exposed, was humiliating, and nairobi’s comment only deepened the shame aching in your chest. you glanced away, trying to avoid their gazes, but it was futile. they had already seen enough.

˚ ༘♡ “berlin!” tokyo snapped, her voice sharp and accusatory. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

˚ ༘♡ the shift in berlin’s demeanor was immediate and unmistakable. his jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened, his irritation rising to the surface. it was clear from the way he glared at tokyo that he despised her, there was no mistaking the loathing in his face.

˚ ༘♡ “what do you want?” berlin demanded, his tone malicious and impatient. “this better be important.”

˚ ༘♡ tokyo crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at his deflection. “the professor wants to speak to the defense minister’s daughter.”

˚ ༘♡ the mention of the professor sent a chill down your spine. berlin’s presence was terrifying enough, but the professor, this unseen mastermind pulling the strings, was a obscure figure who appeared even more dangerous in his absence.

a/n: let me know your thoughts and if you have anymore requests for money heist!!! 🤍

[insidekatmind]

Assistent- Berlin(Song Jung-ho)

Wearning: +18,smut

The room is suffocating, the silence between the hostages heavy as lead. You find yourself in a corner, trying not to attract too much attention, but you feel it. You know he’s watching you. Berlin. You feel his gaze like a weight on your neck, as if you can sense it even without turning around. You’ve just grabbed the coffee, bringing it to him as if it’s just another task, but inside, something torments you. A knot in your stomach, a mix of nervousness and desire that you can’t explain.

As you take your first step towards his door, your legs tremble, but it’s only for a moment. Then you take a breath and step through the threshold. He’s there, sitting at his place behind the table, his eyes focused on the surveillance monitors. You stop a few steps away from him, the coffee in hand. You feel that every movement you make, every breath you take, is weighed, as if every action is measured in that moment.

"Bring me the coffee?" His voice penetrates you, calm and authoritative, without a trace of emotion. Yet there’s a kind of hidden malice behind those words that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s not an order. It’s something more. It’s a game. And you’re the pawn, aware of it, but unable to take a step back.

You move closer to him, your heart beating faster as you feel drawn to him like a magnet. You stop in front of his desk, your hands trembling as you offer him the cup. He raises his gaze, his black, piercing eyes locking onto yours immediately. There’s something in his stare that makes you feel as if you’re naked before him, as though he’s reading every thought in your mind, every beat of your heart.

"Thank you," he says, but it’s not just a simple thank you. It’s the way he says it. It’s as if he’s giving you something more, something that goes beyond courtesy. His hand reaches out to take the cup, but he doesn’t let you go. His eyes never leave yours, and his gaze is so intense that it feels like you can’t breathe.

"Come closer," he orders, and the word is a command, one that forces you to respond, even if you don’t want to. Your body seems to move on its own, as if it’s already been trained to follow him. You approach slowly, your heartbeat quickening, your hands cold, your breath irregular. When you finally get close to him, he gestures for you to sit, but not in the chair. No. He motions for you to sit on his lap.

A wave of embarrassment overwhelms you, but you can’t do anything but obey. You sit down, your legs trembling slightly as you adjust to his position. The atmosphere between you two is thick, as if the air around you is too dense, too hot. He looks at you as if he were a predator, and you his prey. His hands graze you slowly, but it’s as if every touch is amplified, charged with unbearable tension.

"You don’t seem very relaxed," he murmurs, his voice a warm whisper that makes you shiver. His hands move across your back, tracing thin lines, as if he wants to explore you, as if he’s marking your body as his own.

The silence is broken only by your labored breaths and the beat of your heart filling your ears. "Stop for a moment," he says calmly, but that calm is far from reassuring. It’s a calm that hints at something dangerous. He holds you still, forcing you to stay there, overwhelmed by his presence.

The air around you seems to grow denser, charged with something you can’t grasp. Every little movement feels amplified, every touch of his makes you tremble. You can do nothing but obey, and yet inside, another part of you doesn’t want to stop feeling it.

You rest your hands on the table, focusing on the cameras trying to distract yourself from the fact that you're sitting on his lap. He leans closer to you, pressing his chin onto your shoulder, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. “Not interested in the monitors anymore, huh? Do I make you that nervous?” He asks, his voice a low, velvety murmur.

His hands move, sliding down your back, as if to soothe you, but it's not calming. It's a slow, sensual caress that makes your heart speed up, its beat echoing in your ears. He continues, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smirk in it. “You’re trembling,” he says, his hand now tracing patterns along the side of your torso. “Don’t be so tense, honey. I don’t bite.”

His fingers reach the curve of your waist, his touch burning into your skin even through the fabric of your clothes. His other hand goes higher, up to your neck, gently tilting your head towards him. His eyes are now focused on you, studying you. There’s a deep, dark intensity in his gaze that makes you shiver. His hand is still on your neck, thumb gently caressing your skin. “Look at me,” he orders, his tone a calm but firm command.

Your eyes slowly move to meet his, unable to refuse to obey. He’s so close that you can see the flecks of gold hidden in the darkness of his irises. His gaze locks onto yours, taking in every detail, studying your every reaction. “There you are,” he says, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “I like it better when you’re looking at me.” He leans in closer, his lips hovering just an inch away from your ear, his words a low, almost inaudible whisper. “You’re an interesting one, aren’t you? You think I haven’t noticed you sneaking glances? The way you watch me when no one else is looking.”

You swallow hard as you look at him. He watches you closely, noticing the way you swallow. His hand on your waist tightens its grip, pulling you slightly closer to him. “I see you, you know. Even when you think you’re being inconspicuous, I notice.” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice, a hint of satisfaction. “You think I don’t feel your gaze whenever I walk into a room?”

You can feel Berlin's hand caressing your ass. The touch sends an electric shiver down your spine, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making any noise. His hand glides down, giving you a firm squeeze, a gesture both possessive and pleasurable.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asks, his voice a low rumble in his chest. He can feel your tension, the way your body responds to his touch. “You’re not very good at hiding these reactions, sweetheart.” He continues to caress your butt and every now and then he gave you little slaps while looking at you with a smirk.

With every soft slap, you have to clamp down further on your lip to prevent yourself from letting out a sound. The mixture of pain and pleasure is almost overwhelming, and his gaze, heavy and intense upon you, adds another dimension to the experience. The smirk on his face is maddening, taunting you with his power, but at the same time drawing you closer, making you want more.

His hand then moves up, under your shirt, tracing warm lines on your bare skin. The touch is more possessive now, his fingers leaving behind a trail of heat wherever they go. “Undress” he orders you, slapping your ass before licking his lips and looking at you.

The command is firm, leaving no doubt that it's an order, not a request. A mix of arousal and trepidation fills you, but you know you have no choice but to obey. You stand up, away from him, and start removing your clothes, feeling his eyes on you, watching your every move.

As you begin to undress in front of him, the air in the room seems to grow thicker, charged with anticipation. His smile only grows wider, his gaze becoming more and more intense with each piece of clothing you take off. He gives you a sign with his finger to make you understand that you have to do a spin around yourself to make him understand your entire naked body. You hesitate for a moment, feeling incredibly exposed, but his gaze is so intense it feels like you can't refuse. You spin around, slowly, feeling his eyes on every part of your body, burning into you and searing into your mind. You can feel his gaze like a physical touch, and you shiver, unable to control the way your body responds to him.

He leans back in his chair, taking in the view, his hand rubbing his chin as he looks at you. You feel vulnerable, but there's also something strangely liberating about it, as if you're allowing him to see a part of you that no one else has ever seen.

Berlin waves you over and slaps his right thigh to let you know he wants you to sit on him. "sit on my right thigh" he orders you. You approach him, your legs feeling shaky and your body on edge. Slowly, you sit down on his right thigh. His leg is firm beneath you, and the feeling of being this close to him is overwhelming. You can feel his body heat radiating against yours, can smell his cologne, a subtle but intoxicating scent that seems to invade your senses.

He smirks and squeezes your ass before letting out a satisfied hum. “Ride my thigh like a good girl,” he orders, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The words ignite something inside you, a mix of embarrassment and desire. You shift, moving on his thigh as he instructed, feeling the friction of your body against his. He leans back in his chair, his hands on the armrests on either side of you, and watches you with an amused, self-satisfied expression.

"That's it," he purrs, his words a low rumble in his throat. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" His hands grip the armrests even tighter, a clear sign of his control, of his dominance over you. As you continue to move, his hand slowly slides towards your back, tracing lines on your skin. His touch is both gentle and possessive, sending waves of heat through your body. His leg moves beneath you, providing just enough pressure in all the right places, and you can't help but respond, your movements becoming more involuntary, more desperate.

He leans closer, his lips almost touching your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Keep going," he urges, his voice low and velvety. "You're doing so well, sweetheart."

You moan looking at him as you place your hands on his body to support yourself as you continue to ride his thigh. The feel of your pussy on his thigh as it repeatedly touches your g-spot makes you moan loudly. “Berlin,” you moan.

The sound of your moan hits Berlin like a wave, fueling his desire even more. He leans closer, his hand moving up to the nape of your neck, holding you steady so he can look at you. His gaze is intense, his eyes locked onto yours, and you can practically feel the heat coming off him.

"Say it again," he commands, his voice a low growl. He wants to hear you say his name again, he wants to hear how he makes you feel. You repeat his name, the syllables a strangled sound that escapes you with each movement. "Berlin," you moan again, and it's a sound he can't get enough of. His hand tightens on your neck, his touch possessive and demanding. "Louder," he demands, his voice now more hoarse, more strained. He's losing control, but he still needs to hear you say his name.

You moan feeling his hand on your neck and ride his thigh faster. “Berlin” you moan looking at him longingly. His name on your lips, combined with the feel of you riding his thigh, drives him insane. He's losing his carefully crafted control, and you can see the effect it has on him. His grip on your neck tightens, grounding him but also expressing his dominance. He looks at you, his gaze clouded with hunger and need. "You're mine," he growls, his voice possessive and authoritative. "Say it."

You moan feeling close "fuck, I'm all yours" you moan desperately and Berlin slaps you on the ass, growling satisfied and moving his leg under you quickly. The stinging pain from his slap mixes with the pleasure building between your legs, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You moan louder, the sound filling the room, and Berlin responds eagerly, his leg moving even faster, adding more pressure for you core. His hand moves again, running down your back, resting on your waist. He squeezes lightly, guiding your movements. "You're so close," he says, his voice gruff. "I can feel it. Come for me, honey."

The words are commanding, but they're also something more. They're a plea, a demand, and an acknowledgment of the power you have over him. He needs to see you fall apart, he wants it, and he's going to get it.

You moan and hide your head in his chest as you breathe heavily, you wet his entire thigh with your cum and Berlin smiled as he caressed your ass. "What a good girl".

He feels the wetness spread across his thigh, and that only adds to the satisfaction he feels. He continues to caress you, his touch tender but still possessive. “Well done,” he whispers, his voice a mix of praise and pride. He likes this, the way you respond to him, the way you surrender.

Berlin uses his free hand to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him again. The intensity in his eyes increased. He smiles and caresses your cheek, knowing full well that he has you in his grasp. He runs his hands over your body, his touch both possessive and tender. "You belong to me now," he says, his voice low and soft. "You're mine, do you understand that?"

His hands grip your waist, as if trying to anchor you to him, to make sure you're not going anywhere. The intensity of his gaze, his possessive touch, mixed with the occasional tenderness, it's a combination that's hard to resist. You nod obediently and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He's satisfied with your compliance, and his tone softens a bit. "Good," he murmurs, his hand moving up to your hair, running his fingers gently through it. "You're learning quickly."

Berlin leans back a bit, allowing you to nestle into him, his body providing a solid, supportive presence.

The atmosphere in the room has shifted, the tension giving way to something more intimate, something more vulnerable now that you've given in to him.

[naturesapphic]

Hiiiii can u write a fic about how Billie and reader met!! (With the Billie wall!!!) PLEASEE

Love you mwah Mwahh

Love At First Fan

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff

It was June 2024 in Berlin, Germany when Billie eilish went to do promo for her new album, “hit me hard and soft”. The last time she came here was in 2019 for her first album “when we all fall asleep where do we go”. Now she’s back after five years and you were finally getting to meet her. There were hundreds of fans waiting to see her and you were one of them. You waited out there for about an hour until you saw her.

It was the Billie eilish. Just a few yards away from you. You felt your heart beat out of your chest and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. She sat on the wall where all the autographs were, making it the Billie wall, and she posed for a photo, remaking the one she did five years ago. You watched her in awe and you hope that she would come over to you.

It’s been about an hour since Billie has been here, she signed a plaque that’s going to be placed on the wall, she did some photos, some interviews and even talked with almost all of the fans. Then she got to you and you were absolutely freaking out on the inside. “Hey sweet girl. How are you?” She said and you thought you were gonna pass out right then and there.

“Hi! I-im great! H-how about you?” You stuttered out and she just kept smiling at you, not even noticing or pointing it out which made you grateful. “I’m good! What’s your name sweetheart?” She asked you and you told her your name. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” She said while giving you a wink which made you go crazy. Billie went up to you and gave you a hug, she leaned in next to your ear. “Meet me here in three hours alone okay?” She whispered and she moved on to the next group of people waiting for her.

~ three hours later ~

It’s been three hours and you were walking up the stairs near the wall when you spotted Billie already sitting up there waiting for you. You smiled big and hurried up the stairs towards her. When she saw that you were coming, she matched the smile you had on your face and hopped down. You got up in front of her and smiled shyly. “It’s crazy that im doing this. I’ve never done this before but y/n you entranced me. I don’t know what it is about you or how you spoke to me but I was hooked the first time I laid my eyes on you.” She explained and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“R-really?” You sputtered out and she took a step forward, looking deep in your eyes. “Yes really. I would love to get to know you more y/n, if that’s okay with you?” She asked and you immediately nodded your head yes. Billie reached for her phone in her back pocket and handed it to you so you could put your number in. You put it in and handed it back to her. “Well I’ll tell you later okay? I need to go and finish some more things but get home safe.” Billie said and you nodded slowly, still not believing that this was happening. Billie smiled and waved bye as she walked down the steps and went inside her car as you stood there in disbelief.

A/n: thank you to the two anons who requested this and for y’all’s kind words! I love y’all too! Mwah! I hope the rest of y’all enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)

[damiansgoodgirll]

CAN THEY ADOPT ME PLEASE? I SWEAR I’LL BE GOOD

[mexxs-blog]

Now if i speak..

[juan-francisco-palencia]

Eine Blume auf dem Weg.

“Fate or luck. Some rare moments make us reflect on the mysteries of life and who we really are…”

I'm not a writer because I'm not sure that everything I say ends well. I am not a poet either because I am not sure if everything I say becomes an offering, sublime poetry or if it is insulting and does not end well. I'm just a poor being. Who carries in her heart joy, the mortal grace of a woman, a hope, the reason to live to love with all her soul.

—  Juan Francisco Palencia.

[depressopax]

La casa de papel NSFW alphabet

Fandom - La casa de papel/Money Heist

Part 3 - From K-O

»» Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4 ««

Pairing: Nairobi - Berlin - Denver - Tokyo - Professor - Alicia Sierra - x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content! MDNI. Sub/dom, (semi) public, possessiveness, mentions of mommy kinks, Words: 1.7K Summary: NSFW alphabet challenge D-F. What are the LCDP characters like in bed? 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 ||

Nairobi

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sub/dom & authority (in which she is more of a soft domme)

Sex toys (...especially strap-ons 🤭)

Praise & degradation

Breeding 

Semi/Public sex

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Preferably in bed

To provide you both comfort and give you good aftercare

Like I’ve said in earlier parts, she won’t mind being a bit risky and doing it in public places ;)

Especially to make you scream her name to let people know who you belong too

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Everything from big romantic/cheesy gestures

…To simple things such as you wearing skimpy clothes or trying to rile her up - she likes it when you act all needy and horny for her

A good, long foreplay gets her going too.

Teasing each other in public

Bonus: Homegirl ain’t scared to slide her hand down your underwears when at a restaurant just to see you flustered “I can't wait to strip you out of those clothes later.”

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes or “sharing” you

It’s a big NO

You’re hers, and the thought of someone else touching you the way she does? It doesn’t sit right with her

Anything that makes you uncomfortable turns her off tbh

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Likes both equally

That’s why she likes 69ing with you lol

Very passionate when giving you

Will have you on the couch, leg spread wide whilst she goes down

And B O Y she’s good 

When receiving, she loves bringing you to your knees

That way, she can place her legs over your shoulders for her own comfort

…And tease you by squeezing her thighs around you and force you in place

Very loud when receiving, and demanding

If you have longer hair she’ll pull it slightly and guide your head

And VERY praising afterwards

Berlin

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage

Impact play

Dom/sub & discipline

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bed, the couch, against the kitchen counter/table…

Prefers a bit privacy

So anywhere at home where he can bend you over will do it

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Simply… You.

And his own fantasies.

Just imagining what he wants to do with you

Or what he wants YOU to do to him, gets him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes and cuckolding

Anything that has to do with sharing you

Seriously, he’ll get seriously offended if you suggest it 😭

Doesn’t like humiliation, neither on you or him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Homeboy passionate AF

He adores and worships every single inch of you, so ofc he gives you a lot of attention… Down there ;)

He can spend hours giving you oral pleasure

Not only to satisfy you, but because he genuinely gets turned on from going down on someone. It brings him pleasure too

He loves receiving too

Will have you on your knees, loving the sight of you so submissive and eager to please him

Pushing into your warm mouth, rewarding you with praise and LOUD grunts and moans

He hates being the guy to fuck your face

…But if he gets too into it/eager? He’ll do it and not even feel sorry afterwards

He makes up for your gagging and sore throat afterwards tho 🤭

Denver

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dirty talking

Roleplay

…Breeding ;)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere, any time, ALL THE TIME.

He’s a horny guy, what can he say?

If you’re horny, he won’t let you be all bothered

If you’re in public he’ll find a somewhat private spot where you can take care of each other's “problems” ;)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Y O U

He’s easy to turn on

Kinda pervy when it comes to you, just watching you suck on a lollipop or ice-cream will have him aroused tbh 😭

Nudes too

If you’re comfortable sending them ofc

It’s the biggest motivation EVER, he adores and loves worshiping your naked body 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s not that kinky, so anything that is too “extreme” is not it.

Not that fond off BDSM etc

He’ll try it if you are into it, but it’s not for him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving tbh

Your warm lips wrapped around his cock works like a charm.

Stressed? Sad? Happy? Angry? Blowjobs!!! 🤪

Still likes giving too

Especially when you show your appreciation with sweet moans

It boosts his ego to know he can make you sound like that 

Just love to make  you feel good. 

Tokyo

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Worship & praise

Degradation

Sex toys

Semi/public sex

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Doesn’t matter really

If she wants you - she NEEDS you, right there, right now

Doesn’t mind fucking you in a dirty restroom if she’s horny for you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your presence alone is enough tbh

She is extremely attracted to you and everything you do turns her on

When you bend down to pick something up, smiling at her from across the room…

Touch is her love language, and she loves hugging you

Her hands wandering to your ass, thighs or stomach, feeling your body under her palms… It drives her crazy

Or if you do the same on her. 

She melts under your touch and craves more.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything where you could end up hurt

Sure she likes to be a bit wild, but your comfort is still prioritized.

She hates the thought of you bruised up in any way (except from hickeys, which she loves giving and receiving)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving

Just being able to sit back down and enjoy watching your mouth working on her pussy

Tokyo is the person to grind against your mouth

VERY loud too, and praising.

When giving - she likes surprising you

For example dropping to her knees when your least expect it and then work her way down

And she’s good at it too

Professor

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Authority

Roleplay

Dom/sub (in which he prefers being submissive)

Worship & praise

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Sergio is a classy man 💅

Prefers the bed, it’s the most comfy option, after all. 

He prefers slow, passionate session in the bedroom

If he’s feeling extra wild he’ll do it in the couch or shower  🤭

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You teasing him 

…Or purposely trying to turn him on - It works. 

When you make him feel hot and wanted.

Homeboy have low self-esteem, so you touching him, telling him he’s sexy/good-looking etc not only makes him feel good about himself…

But also flusters him and turns him on 🥹

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I feel like he is pretty “vanilla”

He is more of a sub, so he prefers it if you are taking charge tho

Likes experimenting but a big no for him is:

Humiliation, pain and being rude/disrespectful towards you

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers giving

He thinks it’s fascinating how you enjoy his oral skills so much

The first times were messy and awkward but he quickly learnt what you liked and improved his skills

His tongue and mouth *chefs kiss*

Could spend hours between your legs, watching you go crazy from something he’s doing

Won’t say no to receiving tho 👀

He’s not so picky, just you wanting to give him a blowjob turns him on

He’ll hold a gentle hand on the back of your head

You will earn some grunts and soft moans from his

Alicia Sierra

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This one either makes a lot of sense, or not at all.

Mommy kink

Said it before, but she is a domme

She doesn’t necessarily ask you to call her “Mommy”

But still, she likes the thought of dominating you but doing so in a soft way

She’ll absolutely destroy you in bed, whilst whispering words of encouragement and getting turned on by your whimpers and moans

…And even by those pretty tears in your eyes as she edges and overstims you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom

She prefers intimacy and privacy

Since she is a bit rougher she wants to provide you with some type of comfort, such as having you on bed, having a pillow behind your back or under your lower abdominal

Although, she’s keen on the idea of taking you in public places if you’re both in the mood, or if you’ve “been bad” ;)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Turning her on is not a challenge

Wear something revealing - or better, nothing at all! - and she’s ready to take you.

You’re a treasure to her and so beautiful, how can she not be horny for you?

Makes sure to rile you up too

With her wearing tops to show off her cleavage, whispering to you how badly she wants to fuck you… 

She also adores you being bratty. She sometimes ignores your need on purpose just to have you cry and turn into a whiny bitch to receive attention

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Yes, she likes being rough, but there are limits

She wouldn’t do something that could hurt you or inflict pain

Anything with blood etc is a big no for her

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers giving

But she expects you to do something in return, to thank her.

Absolutely drives you insane with her skilled tongue and warm lips, finding all the right places and spots to make you scream her name

Knows how to make you cum quickly and her goal is to at least give you 1-2 orgasms

She’s demanding when receiving.

Will have you lay down and sit on your face, grinding it and guiding the movements of your tongue and lips

Loves making you a mess and watching your swollen lips and the way her juices drips on your chin

Rough, fast movements over you as she praises you

Swells with pride as she sees the mess she’s made out of her perfect partner, knowing that you’re hers, and hers only.

[agent-grey-fics]

Breaking Point | Part 2 of ‘You don’t belong here’

Who: Denver x reader

Wordcount: 3400

Summary: After a chaotic heist at the Royal Mint, you find yourself shot and fighting for your life. Denver, determined to prioritize saving you over the heist, resorts to extreme measures to ensure your safety. Will you survive this?

Warnings: Violence, sexual tension, injury, trauma, language

Part 2 of You don’t belong here, you can read it here: X

A loud bang echoed through the Royal Mint. Denver and Tokyo exchanged a confused look. ‘Was that a gunshot?’ Without wasting time, they ran toward the entrance hall where they had gathered the hostages. Taking two steps at a time as they ran down the stairs. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ Tokyo yelled towards Berlin when she saw Rio on his knees, hunched over your body. Oslo and Moscow held the hostages at gunpoint, here and there a cry sounded in disbelief. A smug grin hung on Berlin’s lips, a young woman stood trembling on her legs behind him. He was disgusting, using fear to fulfil his own needs. ‘I told her to stay in line, she should not meddle in other people’s business.’ Denver could not grasp the image before his eyes. 

You lay motionless on the ground, Rio pressed his hands hard on your stomach and Nairobi looked in disbelief at Berlin casually holding a revolver in his hand. ‘He fucking shot her.’ When these words reached Denver’s ears he launched himself forward, toward the older gangster. ‘I’m going to fucking kill him!’ Denver was screaming at the top of his lungs. Tokyo did her best to stop her friend, clinging to his waist. But he was too strong. With a simple shove, he pushed her off him and she fell to the ground with a thud. Berlin pointed the gun at the young robber. “I warned her.” Denver seemed unimpressed and continued to run in his direction. Before Berlin had the chance to shoot at him, Denver had worked him to the ground and his fist collided with his jaw. ‘You piece of shit.’ Berlin resisted fiercely, allowing Denver only a few good hits at his face and body. ‘Enough!’ Tokyo crawled upright again and tried to pull Denver off of him with all her strength but it had no effect. ‘Denver stop, she needs you!’ It was Rio screaming over his shoulder to the frantic man. It wasn’t until Helsinki marched towards the two and pulled Denver backwards onto the ground with little effort that the fight stopped. 

‘You need to calm down and help me carry her towards the office space where we stationed Arturo.’ The Serb remained calm and began handing out orders to the other group members. He went into his military mode. ‘You stay the fuck here because if I see you near her again I’ll fucking kill you myself, understood?’ Berlin could only nod irritably when he heard the Serb’s words. ‘Rio and Nairobi, keep a fucking eye on him and if he tries something funny shoot him in the leg.’ ‘Yes sir!’ Nairobi gave him a military salute. ‘Tolyo, Oslo, Moscow stay with the hostages.’ 

Denver quickly crawled back on his feet and ran toward you, still lying on the floor. ‘Baby, come on open your eyes.’ His hands were trembling as he gently placed them on your face. ‘You need to apply pressure where she was shot.’ Rio nodded towards your abdomen, blood flowed down his fingers. ‘Pressure.’ Denver mumbled to himself. As Denver applied pressure onto your stomach, memories of your moments together flooded his mind. The laughter, the shared glances, the intimacy you had discovered amid chaos. Denver, usually calm under pressure, found himself teetering on the edge of despair. ‘Please babe.’

Helsinki sank to his knees next to Rio, pushing his hands away so he could place a makeshift tourniquet onto the gaping hole in your abdomen. ‘Come on sweety let’s get you patched up.’ Denver gently placed you in his arms so he could carry you towards the office space which now served as a makeshift hospital. His heart raced as he carried your limp body, your blood stained his hands, and the gravity of the situation pressed down on him like a heavyweight. Berlin had jeopardised everything, he wasn’t done with him. The heist was already stressful and chaotic since Arturo got shot on the roof. But Denver couldn’t afford to lose you, he was going to do everything in his power to make sure you were going to make it.

‘Do you see the irony of it?’ Helsinki mumbled to him as they placed her body on a table next to Arturo. ‘She was supposed to patch us up, not the other way around.’ Denver gently stroked your hair; he was afraid you were going to break under his touch. ‘I swear to god that I’ll kill Berlin for this. The bastard.’ His eyes became watery and he blinked a few times so his vision was no longer blurred. Helsinki patted him on the back. ‘Come on, your girl needs you.’ A shaky sigh left his lips. ‘Okay, what do you need from me?’ Helsinki listed a series of materials he needed.  In the confined space, he sought any medical supplies he could find. Realizing quickly that they didn’t have everything they needed. Helsinki tried his best to stabilize the girl he learned to love as a sister. ‘We’re going to do everything we can bro.’ Denver just nodded, he already knew what he was going to do. 

Denver’s eyes were fixed on the makeshift hospital room, where Helsinki worked tirelessly to stabilize you. The urgency in the air was palpable, heightened by the earlier chaos of Arturo getting shot on the roof and of Berlin shooting you out of nowhere. Denver’s mind raced, a plan forming like a storm in his thoughts.

As Helsinki barked orders for supplies, Denver’s gaze shifted to the entrance of the Royal Mint. The deal with the police had brought surgeons to attend to Arturo, but Denver couldn’t let them focus solely on him. He had to make a bold move to ensure the surgeons would save you first.

Without a second thought, Denver bolted from the room, gun drawn, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached the entrance hall where the surgeons were setting up to attend to Arturo. Determination etched on his face, Denver intercepted the lead surgeon, a middle-aged man in a white coat. ‘Listen, you’re not working on Arturo first,’ Denver declared, his voice low and intense as he pressed the gun against the doctor’s temple. Nairobi gasped for air as she saw his move. ‘Denver, what the fuck are you doing?’. ‘She’s dying! I cannot let her die, I won’t let her die!’ Tears were welling up in his eyes again. The surgeon, taken aback, stammered, ‘But we’re here to help the hostages, that’s the deal with the police.’ Rio cautiously approached his friend. ‘Bro, think this through. We must be careful here, they are just aid workers doing their jobs.’ Denver shook his head. ‘No, they’re helping her first. Then they can help him.’ Rio raised his hands in surrender. ‘Okay, okay. I’ll go and get her here. Stay calm.’ Denver’s eyes bore into the surgeon’s around the table. “You’re going to help her first,” he pointed back toward the makeshift hospital. ‘She’s dying, and she doesn’t have time to wait for your bureaucratic protocols. Do you understand?!’

The surgeons hesitated, caught between the demand and their professional obligations. Denver, fueled by desperation and love, leaned in closer. ‘If you don’t help her, you’ll have a bloodbath on your hands. I’ll fucking kill them all.’ There was a tense moment of silence, and then they nodded, realizing the severity of the situation. Denver led him back to the room where Helsinki was working. The surgeon assessed the situation quickly, understanding the gravity of your condition.

‘Alright,’ the surgeon said, taking charge. "Hook her up to the monitor and prep a sterile field for the equipment. Now, someone assist me.’. Denver, feeling a mix of relief and determination, jumped in to assist. The room buzzed with urgency as the surgeon and the makeshift medical team worked together. Denver stole glances at you, hoping against hope that the medical intervention would be enough to save you.

As the surgeons worked to stabilise you, Denver couldn’t shake off the guilt and anger toward Berlin. He vowed silently to make the older gangster pay for what he had done. The heist had taken an even darker turn, and Denver was willing to break any rule, defy any expectation, to ensure the woman he loved would survive.

‘Clamp!’ The surgeon ordered his colleagues as he poked at you with tweezers. 'I can see the bullet, wait I-’ A clanging sound resounded as the bullet fell into the metal dish. Denver breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the metal ball on the table. ‘Needle and thread, I have to be quick.’. With determination, he began suturing the wound. 'Give her a bag of O- too, she’s going to need it.’ Denver watched with wide eyes as they hooked you up to an IV so you could get enough blood again. "Are you sure she can get O-? The surgeon nodded. 'Universal donor.’ ’ He muttered as he tied the last loop. ‘This is all we can do for her inside here, if you let her go outside with us we can guarantee her safety.’ Denver immediately shook his head. 'No, no if she goes out, she’ll get at least 30 years in prison. Is she stable?’ The surgeon nodded. 'Then she stays here.’

Helsinki moved the table you were lying on to the corner of the room. Denver followed on your heels. As soon as the Serbian led the surgeons toward Arturo, he sank down on his knees. 'We should have left while we still had the chance. I knew it. He dropped the weapon beside him and grasped his hair desperately. ‘You’re going to be okay, you have to be okay. I’m not walking out of here without you’.

You could hear what Denver was saying to you but you weren’t able to respond, you were in a strange twilight zone. You weren’t awake but you weren’t unconscious either, you had felt all the pain, it was burning. It was a strange state you were in.

Denver stormed down the stairs straight to the entrance hall with an assault rifle in hand. ‘Denv-’ Tokyo tried to reason with him but it was to no avail. He put his Dali mask back on and pointed the rifle at Berlin’s face who was sitting on the ground near the hostages. ‘Get up.’ A cocky grin appeared on his lips. ‘What didn’t your girl make it?’ Denver was seeing red. ‘I’m going to ask you one more time and if you don’t listen I’ll blow your brains out.’ He raised his hands in surrender and stood up. He didn’t want to risk it to see if he was bluffing or not. ‘Towards the entrance.’ Denver pointed his gun towards the massive door that was shielding them from the outside. ‘You’re kidding?’ He shook his head. ‘Rio, go open the fucking door.’ Rio didn’t waste a second and ran towards his computer. ‘Everyone up, masks on and weapons at the ready!’ Tokyo yelled towards the hostages. They all obeyed and stood in a V-shape behind Denver, all their weapons pointed at Berlin. Nairobi casually walked toward him and pulled the Dali mask from his hands. ‘Didn’t think so.’ She took her place next to Rio at the door. ‘Rio, now!’. 

Before anyone could object, the young man opened the doors. 'Drive him out. The crowd stepped forward evenly with their weapons drawn so Berlin had no choice but to walk out of the bank.  ‘Adios bastard!’ Nairobi shouted. The police did not understand what was happening, one of them was thrown out of the bank. Without a mask. Within seconds they had his name: Andrés de Fonollosa. The special units marched forward and charged him. His hands were harshly held behind his back and they dragged him into the interrogation tent. As Berlin looked over his shoulder one last time, Denver raised his middle finger at him. One last sign of envy. 

Rio closed the doors before the police fully realized what just happened. When they were fully closed, Tokyo pulled off her mask. 'The professor is going to kill you. How are we ever supposed to get out of here alive?’ 'Calm down, we’ll find a solution to it. Besides, I don’t think I was the only one who wanted him out.’ Denver looked at the other gang members. Rio and Nairobi nodded in agreement; the others shrugged. 'He was just there to perform fear on the hostage takers, he had no real job. I’ll take over his duties. We’ll get out of here, with the money as agreed. Promise.’ Tokyo wearily stroked a hand through her hair. 'I hope you’re right Denver.’

Three days had passed and you still hadn’t awakened. The gang members had planned out a rotation so there was always someone sitting by your side. It was Denver’s turn. He held your hand and absently stroked your knuckles with his thumb. 'We haven’t discussed where we would go when we walk out of here.’ He muttered more to himself than to you. ‘I thought we were going to live on a remote island and party on the beach every night?’ Your voice was hoarse and your throat hurt from days of not speaking. ‘What happened?’ You tried to sit up but a hellish twinge of pain stopped you. Your face twisted in pain. Denver was in shock. ‘You’re awake,’ he muttered to himself, ‘you’re alive.’ He gently pushed you down so that you were back on the table. 'No, don’t move too much. Berlin shot you. Don’t worry I made him pay.’ Confusion was on your face. 'How long was I out for?’ Denver gently stroked hair out of your face. 'Three days, we leave in two hours.’ He stroked a strand of hair behind your ear. 'I’d never have left you behind, Helsinki and I made a stretcher.’ 'What happened to Berlin?’ Denver chuckled irritably, an angry expression crossed his face.�� 'We handed him over to the police. He crossed the line, we’re a team and he betrayed you.'  Flashes of Berlin forcing a woman into sexual acts moved before your eyes again. 'I couldn’t let him have his way,’ you muttered. 'I know sweetheart, I know.’

You had completely forgotten about the Professor, how would he have reacted? "El Professor? Denver saw the question in your eyes. 'He was angry, but he understood our reaction. We couldn’t trust him anymore.’ You nodded gently, thankfully he wasn’t the most important link you thought to yourself. How could you have been so wrong about someone, he seemed to be a strong leader type when he was just a pervert. 

'Would you like to try standing and walking around a bit?’ You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. ‘Come on, I’ll help you.’ Denver stood up again and placed a strong arm around your shoulders to gently help you upright so you were in a sitting position. ‘Take a deep breath baby.’ He mumbled when he saw the painful grimace on your face. Air filled your lungs when you did what he said. You resisted the pain and swung your legs over the edge of the table. 'Put your arm around my shoulders so I can support you.’ Obediently, you did as he asked of you and clung to his neck. He gently wrapped one arm around your lower back and the other along the front of your hips. He was careful so he didn’t touch the gunshot wound. ‘On three, one, two, three.’ You got to your feet. It was a strange feeling, they felt very heavy but that was probably because you had been lying on an uncomfortable table for three days. Everything was a little stiff. Cautiously taking some steps, Denver did not leave your side afraid you would fall. ‘And?’ His voice was hoarse. ‘I’m a bit sore and not the good kind.’ His laughter roared through the room. 'I can take care of that in a few days when you’re feeling better.’ Blood rushed to your cheeks. 'Don’t be so vulgar.’ Before he could object, the office door flew open and Helsinki walked in. ‘You’re awake?’ A grin spread across his lips. ‘You’re awake!’ The Serb walked toward you but Denver raised his hand protectively. 'Gunshot wound and haven’t been awake for three days, be careful big boy.’ Helsinki rolled his eyes before gently wrapping his arms around your frame. 'Oh I am so glad you’re okay. I hadn’t doubted my ability for a moment but still.’ You laughed softly. ‘Thank you, I owe you my life.’ He shook his head. 'Well, I did a lot but if Denver hadn’t obliged the surgeons for Arturo to help you I don’t think we would be standing here now.’ You looked at Denver with a raised eyebrow. He had a sheepish expression on his face. ‘I might have held them at gunpoint until they agreed to operate on you,’ he admitted. Your mouth fell open in astonishment. ‘Dude, they’re EMT’s. You gotta show them some respect.’ He nodded. ‘I know, but I was panicking, and we couldn’t do everything because we didn’t have the right equipment. They were our only option. Your only option.’ You nodded. ‘Bring me to the others so we can leave here as soon as possible, please.’ The three of you walked towards the large entrance hall where everyone had gathered. ‘Havana!’ Nairobi exclaimed upon seeing you coming down the stairs. Tokyo and Rio turned around when they heard her scream. Moscow winked at his son, who couldn’t contain a grin. ‘Sorry I couldn’t help more,’ you mumbled as you stood among the others. Everyone expressed relief that you had pulled through and assured you that everything was going smoothly. ‘We’re leaving in 30 minutes.’ Helsinki announced. Everyone nodded. ‘Let’s do this.’ 

2 months later 

The two of you lay side by side on the sun-soaked sands of the deserted island, the rhythmic sound of gentle waves providing a soothing backdrop. With the golden sun kissing your skin, you took turns applying sunscreen, laughter dancing in the air as you playfully teased each other. ‘Give me a kiss.’ It wasn’t a question, he ordered you but you didn’t mind. You crawled towards him and straddled his lap, one knee on each side of him. ‘Told you we would end up on an island.’ You mumbled before you pressed your lips softly on his. He hummed in agreement. You placed your arms loosely around his neck and his hands slowly crept up. First over your thighs until they found a spot above the edge of your bikini bottoms. You leaned back a little so you could look at him. 'I could do this forever. Just the two of us on a deserted island.’ He nodded in agreement. ‘I assumed this was forever from now.’ He had that boyish grin on his face that you loved so much. ‘If we’re really going to do this, then-’ You didn’t finish your sentence and kissed him again, more intensely than before. You fought for dominance as your tongues swirled around each other. He didn’t just give in. His hands moved a little higher and he played with the string of your bikini top. Tired of his wait-and-see attitude, you untied the string yourself, followed by the string at your neck, causing the top to fall between you. 'I thought you promised me I was going to be sore? Or am I remembering that wrong?’ He didn’t wait a second and pushed you back into the sand. His lips found the pulse point on your neck. He sucked it gently until the stinging sensation earned a moan from you, then soothed it with his tongue. 'Havana you drive me crazy.’ he mumbled against your neck. ‘Call me y/n, please call me y/n.’ He was stunned for a few seconds and pushed himself up on his arms so he could look at you. ‘Y/n’ he mumbled, a grin appearing on his face. ‘My actual name is Daniel, but everyone calls me Dani.’ You smiled back as you repeated his name. ‘That’s easier to scream when I’m fucking you.’ You laughed out loud. ‘I hope that’s a promise.’  Instead of answering, he pressed his lips hungrily to yours again.

[minniieee]

la casa de papel preferences

Berlin

having a love-hate relationship with Berlin.

- would def call u nicknames to bother u.

- always arguing over stupid shit, n y’all def tried to kill each other before.

- sneaks into ur room occasionally.

- even tho he acts like he despises u, he gen cares abt u and makes sure u don’t get hurt.

how secretly dating berlin would be like.

- always sneaks into ur room at night.

- giving u glances here n there.

- secretly making out in the bathrooms

- Nairobi always being suspicious but js stays quiet.

- eventually getting exposed by Tokyo.

- berlin always talking to his brother abt u.

- protects u obv.

- has a soft spot for u that no one else gets to see.

- calls u nicknames (in Spanish 🥴).

- let’s pretend he survived n y’all lived happily ever after.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Good evening! I dearly hope this query of mine finds you well. I am a mere traveller on a quest for answers, a sage if you will, I am on the cusp of great discovery, but first! I must know, what is your favourite dinosaur?

That is all, as I must away to the hills by the morrow, farewell!

Not really a big fan of anything bipedal, so probably something Brachiosaurus related

[thegreatyin]

i think about the neon future way too much. i am so incredibly abnormal about the neon future

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ scarface ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ berlin x hostage!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ “i’m afraid you comrades have become our hostages.”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t see the man speaking, none of you could. the blindfold pressed against your face, blocking the light that shone through the polished windows, just as the criminals had blocked every avenue of escape. you stood no different to the others lined up alongside you, all you could do was listen. the nervous shuffling of feet, muffled sobs, and the erratic breathing of strangers filled the air, feeding your already frayed nerves. the tension was suffocating, tightening around your chest like an iron grip.

˚ ༘♡ you were not supposed to be here. as an executive assistant for the korean mint, your job revolved around order, organizing reports, managing schedules, ensuring things ran smoothly. yet none of that prepared you for this chaos. the only reason you were here at this godforsaken hour was because the sleazy director had called you back after your shift ended. under the pretense of a scheduling issue, he had summoned you to his office, but his leering gaze and thinly veiled intentions made you regret not making an excuse to stay home. now, that regret burned even brighter, a pang of apprehension wretched in your stomach.

˚ ༘♡ the voice came again, stony and slicing through the panicked murmurs of the hostages. heavy footsteps echoed in the vast room, measured and unhurried, each step landing with intent. your pulse quickened. the sound grew closer, louder, more oppressive, until it felt as if it would stop directly in front of you. and to your fright, it did.

˚ ༘♡ a hand reached out, rough and sure, grasping your face. it wasn’t harsh enough to hurt, but there was no tenderness in it either, only control. your breath grew unstable as you felt the blindfold torn away, the fabric scraping against your skin. the sudden exposure to light stung your eyes, but you didn’t dare look up. fear rooted you in place, your gaze fixed on the ground as your hands trembled at your sides.

˚ ༘♡ “look up.” the voice was deep, mocking, the hint of a smirk woven into the thick north korean accent. the command wasn’t shouted, but it didn’t need to be. its weight was undeniable, pressing down on you like a hand on your throat. trembling, you hesitated, your fear begging you to keep staring at the floor.

˚ ༘♡ “i said, look up.” this time, there was steel in his tone, and the words struck like a whip. your body betrayed you before your mind could argue. slowly, reluctantly, you lifted your gaze.

˚ ༘♡ and that’s when you saw him.

˚ ༘♡ a man stood before you, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. his features were pointed and unyielding, his sun-tanned skin stretched over high cheekbones and a jaw that clenched with latent superiority. his dark hair was slicked back, further emphasizing the austerity of his appearance. he did not wear a hahoe mask like the others. you could see his face clearly, and that fact alone sent a frigid sensation of fear through your veins. there was only one conclusion to draw from this, you would not leave here alive. no one could see a criminal’s face and live to tell the tale.

˚ ༘♡ “hmm.” his voice was quiet as he pondered what was on his mind, the sound of it drawing your breath to a halt. he leaned in, his piercing gaze narrowing as it swept over your face, studying you with disturbing focus. your chest rose and fell in rapid succession, struggling to expel the air caught in your lungs.

˚ ༘♡ “take a deep breath, would you?” his words were deceptively calm, but there was an authority in them you dared not defy.

˚ ༘♡ your hands trembled as you tried to obey, forcing an unstable inhale that did little to steady your racing heart. his eyes landed on your wool coat, where your phone protruded in the pocket. before you could react, he extended his hand.

˚ ༘♡ “give it to me.”

˚ ༘♡ hesitantly, you reached into your coat, stiff with fear, and handed the device to him. the instant it left your grasp, he tossed it to the ground. the sound of the screen shattering against the cold floor jolted you, but what came next made your stomach drop. with one swift motion, he raised his boot and brought it down, crushing the phone into a pile of broken glass and metal.

˚ ༘♡ you gasped aloud, stepping back as your limbs threatened to give out. your lips parted in shock, but he remained unfazed, standing there as if nothing had happened.

˚ ༘♡ “i’m berlin,” he introduced himself, his tone harsh and taunting. his gaze didn’t move as he continued, his voice softening into a contemplative murmur. “and you… you’re the daughter of the korean defense minister, aren’t you?”

˚ ༘♡ his words slashed through the sinister atmosphere, leaving you motionless where you stood.

˚ ༘♡ “i recognize your face now.” his lips twisted into a bemused grin. “tell me, why is the daughter of a wealthy minister working as a lackey in the mint?”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t answer. your voice, if it even existed, was trapped somewhere between fear and disbelief. your eyes darted down to the shattered remains of your phone, then back up to meet his unyielding gaze. the glass fragments seemed to glint like shards of your own hope scattered across the floor.

˚ ༘♡ what he said was true. you were the eldest daughter of the defense minister, a man appointed to his position after the unification of korea. your father, once a prominent figure in the south korean national assembly, had earned his power and influence through a career focused on military affairs. but none of that mattered now. the consequence of that identity, the very thing you had tried so hard to keep hidden, was now fully exposed.

˚ ༘♡ berlin turned away from you with an air of satisfaction, as though he had uncovered some magnificent treasure. “how lucky are we, huh, denver?” he said, addressing one of the masked criminals in a red jumpsuit. his tone was darkly delighted, dripping with smug arrogance. “the daughter of such a prominent figure, right here, as our hostage.”

˚ ༘♡ “sir…” you finally managed to stammer, your voice weak. every fiber of your being told you that begging or pleading would be futile, this heist was too carefully planned, too calculated for something as pitiful as that to persuade them. yet, despite the tremor in your voice, you forced the words out. “if… if i could just know the reason behind your mission.”

˚ ༘♡ he sneered at your question, his lip curling as if amused by your naïveté. “that,” he said coldly, his tone sharp enough to slice through you, “is none of your concern.” he stepped closer, and you instinctively leaned back, though there was nowhere to go. “don’t waste my time with stupid questions. it will do you no good.”

˚ ༘♡ before you could retreat further, his hand reached out, firm fingers tilting your chin upward. his dark eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your pulse thunder in your ears. his touch was ice-cold, akin to winter frost against your skin, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

˚ ༘♡ “moscow,” he barked, not breaking his gaze from yours, “head upstairs and inform the professor of our… fortunate discovery. i think he’ll find it rather interesting.”

˚ ༘♡ a stout man, dressed identically to the rest of the criminals, gave a nod and slung his rifle over his shoulder. without a word, he ascended the staircase, his laced boots thudding against the metal steps.

˚ ༘♡ you glanced around, your fear morphing into panic as your gaze drifted over the rest of the room. your co-workers from the mint, along with the high school students from the field trip, were still lined up, trembling and blindfolded. their muffled whimpers and shaky breathing filled the space like a grim symphony.

˚ ༘♡ but berlin’s attention was locked solely on you. “you,” he said, his voice dropping to something inexplicable, perhaps intimate, yet no less dangerous, “don’t belong here with the rest of the hostages, do you? no, you’re quite special.”

˚ ༘♡ his grip constructed around your arm suddenly, rough enough to make you wince. “rio, tokyo,” he barked, not sparing a glance at the others. “get the rest of the hostages dressed and armed. i’ll handle our guest here.”

˚ ༘♡ two figures stepped forward from the line of criminals. the younger man, who you assumed was rio, removed his mask without reluctance and began moving to obey berlin’s orders. his expression was subdued, almost resigned, as though this were routine. the woman, tokyo, followed suit, her softer features contorting into a glare she didn’t bother to hide from berlin. though she clearly didn’t agree, she complied without protest.

˚ ༘♡ before you could process what was happening, berlin began dragging you toward the stairs. his grip was unrelenting, and you stumbled to keep pace. the acrid scent of cigarette smoke clung to his breath, filling your senses and heightening your unease.

˚ ༘♡ as you were pulled upstairs, you glanced over your shoulder. the rest of the hostages were being herded like sheep, their blindfolds removed and their devices confiscated. there was an air of chaos and helplessness, but the criminals operated with a cold precision that made it all the more horrifying.

˚ ༘♡ you knew he had ordered you not to speak, but the aching concern for your colleagues at the mint outweighed your better judgment. you forced the words out, your voice barely above a whisper, “sir, what will happen to the others?”

˚ ༘♡ his reaction was instant, cruel and unforgiving. “enough with the questions. are you deaf?” his tone was laced with irritation, his hand tightening on your arm as he halted at the top of the stairs. his free hand moved briskly to rest on the rifle slung across his chest, an action that sent your pulse into overdrive. “as long as they do as they’re told,” he said coldly, his eyes flicking down to meet yours, “they’ll live.”

˚ ༘♡ the intent behind his words sank solemnly in your chest, but they provided little comfort. what did doing as they’re told mean? what did that entail? you didn’t dare ask for clarification. fear had locked your throat shut.

˚ ༘♡ at the end of the hallway, he forced you into a conference room. it was meant to be a professional space, a place for meetings, discussions, plans, but now it felt like a suffocating cage. berlin shoved you forward with a careless force that sent you stumbling to the floor. the tawny carpet felt rough beneath your hands, and as you tried to gather yourself, you realized your legs wouldn’t stop shaking. you were trembling so violently that getting back up seemed impossible.

˚ ༘♡ he stood over you, shaking his head with a theatrical sigh, his expression twisted into something resembling mock pity. “get up,” he ordered, his voice ridden with feigned concern. “it’s a pathetic sight. if i wanted to kill you, don’t you think i’d have done it by now?”

˚ ༘♡ yet even his attempt to rationalize your survival did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. when you didn’t rise fast enough, he moved toward you, his impatience evident. before you could brace yourself, his hands gripped your waist, hauling you to your feet with little regard for your pitiful form.

˚ ༘♡ “relax, damn it!” he lashed out, though there was no softness in the demand. his hands lingered a second too long before he let go, stepping back. “you’ve got the easy end of this,” he continued, nodding toward the door. “out there? they’re the ones who’ll do the hard labor. you? you get to stay here, comfortably out of the way.”

˚ ༘♡ your eyes widened, the tears you’d been holding back streaking down your pallid cheeks. you couldn’t stop yourself from inquiring, the words escaping your mouth negligently. “but why… why do i need to stay here?”

˚ ༘♡ his lips curved into a faint, sardonic smile, as though your confusion entertained him. “another question,” he droned, his tone coarsely indulgent. “but i’ll allow it, i was going to tell you anyway.”

˚ ༘♡ he stepped closer, the austerity of his presence bearing down on you. “the police will come,” he began, his voice calm but charged with menace. “it’s only a matter of time. they’ll gather intel on the crisis, and they’ll try to ruin everything for us, storm the building, act recklessly.” he paused, his dark eyes boring into yours. “but they won’t. not when they know we have the minister of defense’s daughter in our grasp.”

˚ ༘♡ the reveal of the grand scheme hit you like a blow, leaving you breathless. you stared up at him, horrified, as the full reality of your situation sank in. you weren’t merely a hostage, you were leverage, a bargaining chip, a pawn in their game. and there was no escaping it.

˚ ༘♡ “i already know what you’re going to say,” berlin said, his voice deadly quiet, yet every word seemed to reverberate in the air around you. his finger grazed your cheekbone, the touch sedated and delicate, as if savoring the terror etched across your face. the lightest brush of his skin against yours was enough to send a shudder through your body. his hand continued its path, stopping just at the curve of your rosy lips, his dark eyes watching your every reaction with a formidable pleasure.

˚ ༘♡ “and if the police don’t heed your father’s words?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as though contemplating the question himself. his finger hovered over your lips, lingering just long enough to make you careen in your stance. “then that pretty face of yours won’t see another day.”

˚ ༘♡ there was a chilling contradiction in his expression, brutality melded with a macabre thrill, as if he relished the power he held over you and everyone else. it was distressing in its intensity, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away, no matter how much you wanted to.

˚ ༘♡ he pulled back slightly, his tone shifting into something almost casual, as though he hadn’t delivered a forthcoming death threat. “if the police act accordingly, it won’t have to come to that,” he said, his tone smooth and reassuring. “you’ll leave here unscathed, so don’t worry too much.”

˚ ༘♡ he smirked then, the expression devoid of true sincerity but brimming with confidence. “i’m willing to believe your dear father will do everything in his power to ensure his precious daughter’s safety. a man like him doesn’t let something like you go to waste. he would heaven and earth for you, wouldn’t he?”

˚ ༘♡ your politician father’s influence, his position, his wealth, it had all painted a target on your back. now, you were nothing more than power in their hands, a negotiation tool that could either save or destroy you. and berlin appeared to revel in the knowledge of it.

a/n: a money heist korea fanfiction for berlin! let me know if you have anymore requests for him as well as your thoughts! 🤍

[insidekatmind]

Answer- Berlin (Song Jung-ho)

The silence was deafening inside the Korea Unified Mint. The only sound was the labored breathing of the people next to you, all blindfolded with a red cloth over their eyes. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your sweaty hands clenched into fists. You couldn't see anything, but you could feel the imposing presence of the masked robbers around you.Suddenly, a phone rang.

"You. Answer the phone."Berlin’s deep, authoritative voice made you flinch. There was an amused tone in his words, almost a smirk hidden behind his mask. You felt a hand gently grab your arm, guiding you forward.

Instinctively, in your confusion, you grabbed onto Berlin’s arm, clutching it in fear of tripping. He paused for a moment and then chuckled softly.

"Oh? Getting attached already?" he whispered, amused.

The warmth of his body was reassuring, but the panic inside you refused to subside. Your hands were trembling as you finally reached the phone. Sensing your unsteady breathing, Berlin took your hands in his, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Breathe, Y/N. Small breaths. Like this."His voice had softened, becoming hypnotic, almost soothing. You tried to obey, but the tension made it difficult to even follow his instructions.

Berlin sighed, and before you could understand what was happening, his lips brushed against yours in an unexpected kiss.It was brief, but enough to make you forget your fear for a moment. Your breathing steadied as the warmth of his lips left an indelible mark on yours.

He pulled away just slightly, his lips still dangerously close to yours."Now you can answer the phone, darling." he said with a mischievous smile.

Your heart was still racing as you tried to collect yourself. You took several small, shaky breaths, trying to calm your nerves. With your hand, you blindly searched for the phone, your fingers trembling slightly as they grazed over the cold, metal surface. Finally, you grasped the phone, holding it tightly in your hand.

"Y-yes?" you managed to speak, your voice quivering slightly.

Berlin leaned closer to you, his breaths caressing your ear. You could feel the heat emanating from his body, the subtle scent of masculine cologne filling your nostrils.

"Good girl," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now, I want you to listen carefully. Do exactly as I say, understood?

You nod and answer. "Korea Unified Mint. , who's speaking?" you said trying to be as normal as possible. Berlin leaned even closer to you, his body now practically pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you couldn't help but shiver slightly.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

The phone line crackled to life, and a voice spoke up."Is this Y/N?"

You recognized the voice on the other end, a familiar one that you couldn't place."Y-yes, it is," you replied, your voice still shaken with fear. Berlin chuckled softly, amused by your nervousness. He seemed to be enjoying the situation far too much for your liking.

"Say something charming, darling," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear once more. Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity of his lips, but you tried to calm yourself down. You took a deep breath and attempted to speak as normally as possible, despite the fear and the presence of Berlin.

"How can I assist you today?" you responded, your voice slightly shaky but mostly steady. Berlin's smirk widened, clearly pleased with your attempt at normality. He ran a hand through your hair, his fingers gently grazing your scalp. His touch was strangely intimate, sending a shiver down your spine.

The voice on the other end of the phone spoke again, unaware of the bizarre situation that was unfolding."What happened to the network?"

Berlin's hand moved from your hair, trailing down to your jaw, his touch almost possessive. “We had a network failure,” you say, trying to remain as normal as possible.

Berlin's fingers traced a path along your jawline, his touch leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He chuckled softly, clearly amused by the situation."A network failure, huh?" he mused, his hand now resting on your cheek. "How convenient."

You could feel your heart racing beneath Berlin's touch, the conflicting emotions coursing through your body. Fear and attraction warred within you, creating a dizzying mix of sensations.The voice on the phone continued, oblivious to the tension in the air."When will the system be back online?”

“I don't know, we're working it out, I have to go now” you say and put the phone down finishing the call. Berlin let out a soft hum of approval as you put the phone down. His hand remained on your cheek for a moment longer before he slowly withdrew it.

"Impressive," he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You handled that quite well, darling." You could feel the weight of Berlin's gaze on you as you stood there, trying to regain your composure. His touch lingered on your skin, leaving a burning trail of sensation in its wake.

He stepped closer to you, his body almost pressing against yours. "You have nerve, I like that," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. Berlin's hand came up again, and this time, it was his fingertips tracing lightly along your collarbone. The touch was so painfully intimate, it sent heat pooling in your stomach despite yourself.

"I could use someone with your... talents," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. His hand continued its journey, exploring the curve of your neck, mapping out every inch of your skin. His touch was feather-light, but it seemed to sear your flesh with its intensity.

You remained frozen in place, your mind a chaotic mess of confusion and excitement. Berlin clearly relished in your turmoil, his smirk growing wider as he watched you struggle to maintain your composure.

"From now on you will be separated from the other hostages and you will stay with me, you will be my assistant" Berlin murmurs, caressing your side. You felt a mix of emotions coursing through you as Berlin gave his order. Fear, intrigue, and a strange sense of anticipation flooded your senses.

His hand on your side felt like a brand, leaving a trail of heat wherever it touched. You could feel the power in his grip, the strength contained within him.

"Your... assistant?" you managed to croak out, your voice betraying your nervousness. Berlin chuckled softly, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path along your ribs. "Yes, my dear," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "You will be my personal assistant, attending to my every need, fulfilling my every request."

His hand came up to your chin, tilting your face towards his. His gaze held yours captive, his eyes dark and intense."You should feel lucky," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking your jawline. "Not just anyone gets to experience the privilege of being my assistant."

You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine as Berlin continued his gentle exploration of your body. His touch felt both soothing and terrifying at the same time.

"What exactly will this... job entail?" you finally managed to ask, your voice still trembling slightly. Berlin smirked, the fire in his eyes growing brighter. He moved closer to you, his body now mere inches away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and you couldn't help but notice the way his chest rose and fell with every breath he took.

"Well," Berlin murmured, his hand moving down to your waist, his fingers tracing possessive circles on the exposed skin above your hip bone. "It will require your complete obedience, your unwavering loyalty, and your utter submission."

You swallowed hard, the words striking a nerve deep within you. Something about Berlin's demand sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching your ear. "You will be at my beck and call, ready to attend to me regardless of the situation," he whispered, his voice sultry and commanding. "Do you think you can handle that, darling?"

You nodded slowly, unable to trust your voice to speak without trembling. Berlin noticed the subtle movement and chuckled softly, a low, dark sound that set your heart racing."Good girl," he murmured. "I can already tell you'll be a fast learner."

Berlin's lips brushed lightly against your skin as he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent. You could feel the heat of his breath against your neck and the slight brush of his stubble against your skin."Vanilla and coconut," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "A delightful combination. So sweet... just like you, darling."

His words sent tingles down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver in response. Berlin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you."You're even more responsive than I thought," he said, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "So sensitive... so receptive."

Berlin continued his exploration of your body, his nose tracing a path along your neck. At the same time, you could hear the sound of the other hostages, their voices carrying fear and concern. Berlin seemed amused by this, a soft chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Don't mind them, darling," he said, his lips hovering near your ear. "They're simply afraid of the unknown... of men like us."

Berlin squeezes your side and then puts his arm on your shoulder to lead you to the others. "Come darling, I have to make a little speech"

You sigh, realizing that your survival depended on staying in Berlin’s good graces there was no other choice. Resigned, you accepted your fate.

[smimon]

I don't have any good photos from Berlin gig but I still know how to draw so here are some of my favourite moments

Käärijä removing his sunglasses to reveal pure joy and exitement on his face upon seeing so many people in the audience 😭

Jaakko judging me (without breaking character) for taking photos of him specifically while he was just standing there

Jukka shooting his sniper guitar at the audience

Allu performing live the lines "ku mul on puutetila vitamiinist" etc from Hirttää Kiinni, his voice is so good 👌 gdy śpiewa, panie mają dreszcze i wzdychają "jeszcze, jeszcze"

When we were singing happy birthday to Luna from Stuttgart-- I mean from Vodka - the Dalttons joined, but not Häärijä, who right at that moment pretended he's one of them

After Cha Cha Cha Häärijä high fived the entire first row as if to say "good job everybody" 😭

[damiansgoodgirll]

it’s gonna be so good after bash in berlin and tonight’s raw!

can’t wait for you to read this!

[lalalaugenbrot]

Attempt at a Comprehensive List of

Alexander von Humboldtʼs Potential Boyfriends

When if not now that Alex came 2nd in the @napoleonic-sexyman-tournament (what a time to be alive) would be the perfect time to finally thoroughly pick his private life apart. Strangely it has always been a mystery even to me (and of course overall it will remain a mystery until the end of times), but I still thought it was about time to at least get some order in the few things that we do know – mainly for myself but also, I dare say, for the public. You (the public!) will find a short text for every friend under the cut ￬.

disclaimers:

a) I tried to pick the most appropriate picture of everyone but please imagine especially the first ones a lot younger than they are in the pictures

b) it’s a potential boyfriends list, meaning: I’m not saying Alex definitely had romantic and/or sexual relationships with any let alone all of these men, it’s just a list of men where it seems at least possible; but ultimately, of course, we do not know and will never know

c) Alex lived for almost 90 years, and even though his textual remains can seem infinite, there is a lot we don’t know about him, especially his private life, not least because he habitually destroyed almost all of his private letters (which is also why for all of his correspondences we only know the letters he wrote but almost never the ones he received) − so I don’t think there’s any way this list is exhaustive (let me know if you think anyone is missing?)

d) Bonpland is not in this because Alex went out of his way to specifically state that his relationship with Bonpland was purely scientific

e) the point of this post isn’t to determine his sexuality, but since it has already come up, just a couple of words on him being on the asexual spectrum: that is perfectly possible and maybe not even unlikely, he said things about himself that could be interpreted as such (not wanting to marry, not having sensual needs); but I think it’s good to keep two things in mind about that: 1. not wanting to get married was a big thing in 1800, something you had to explain yourself for and not wanting to get married as a man also obviously meant not wanting a wife, it was by no means a question on whether or not wanting a significant other and/or sex; 2. the narrative of his sex-less life at least partly derives from the (mainly 19th/20th century) wish for him not to have been (actively) homosexual

f) I hate to be that person, but it has to be said: language and culture back then were much more emotional and expressive than we are used to today, so not everything that sounds super intimate or even romantic to us (language-wise) has to actually have been meant that way; of course this doesn’t rule out anything either but it’s a thing to keep in mind

g) if anyone is interested in sources or further reading on anything particular, do not hesitate to hit me up! But i’m not adding any of that to this post because 1. it’s already 2 km long and 2. this is tumblr dot com

Wilhelm Gabriel Wegener (1767-1837)

18-year-old Alex met Wilhelm in 1787 during the one semester he studied at the University of Frankfurt (Oder). Wilhelm was a (protestant) theology student and on 13 February 1788 they made a “holy” oath to “eternal brotherly love”. They wrote each other very cheesy letters, very much in the Empfindsamkeit fashion of the time, proclaiming their eternal and ever-growing love for each other. There was no one on earth, Alex wrote to him once (and in Italian no less), whom he loved as ardently as him (“Non vi è uomo sopra la terra ch'io amì così ardammente che lei…”). He also told him that, ever since he had met him, it seemed to him that God had created people only in pairs, because no one else could ever compare to what he meant to him. In his letters Alex also repeatedly refers to the many hours spent together (“chatting”) in a certain armchair in Frankfurt and proclaims that he has never been happier than in that very chair.

They kept contact for a couple of years after their time in Frankfurt, but at some point their friendship faded out.

Carl Ludwig Willdenow (1765-1812)

Willdenow (a published botanist) and Alex met in 1788 in Berlin, when Alex had one day decided to just call at his house to ask him to teach him botany. Willdenow agreed and they became friends quickly, spent a lot of time together, and when Alex wandered through Berlin on his own to collect plants, he would afterwards bring them to Willdenow who would then identify them for him.

We do not know a lot about their friendship during that time (and maybe I only included him in this because I needed 9 tiles) but at least one phrase in Alex’s autobiography fragment calls our attention, not least because it’s highlighted by what I like to call a Streisand strike-through: “I became enthusiastically fond of him” or “I grew to love him enthusiastically” (“Ich gewann ihn enthusiatisch lieb”, written in 1801 and crossed out roughly 50 years later).

They stayed in contact even after Alex had left Berlin a couple of months later: in 1795 Alex became godfather of Willdenow’s son and in 1810 he convinced him to come to Paris to work on his botanical collections from the South America trip. Sadly, Willdenow fell ill in 1811 and died in 1812 in Berlin.

Karl Freiesleben (1774-1846)

Alex met Karl in 1791 in Freiberg, where both studied geology and mining at the renowned Bergakademie. Karl was the son of a local mining family and Alex learnt a lot from him about his new profession. They both were nerdy about stones and minerals in ways you couldn’t even begin to imagine. They gifted each other minerals, went down into the mines together, and in August 1791 they made a 200 km long geological expedition through the mountains of Bohemia on foot. But aside from pages-long enthusiastic rants about geology, Alex’s letters to Karl are also full of sentimental love declarations. He called him Herzens-Freisesleben, Herzens-Karl or Herzensjunge (roughly “my heart’s Freiesleben/Karl/boy”) and once finished a letter with: “going to bed now and I’ll be happy when I dream of you” — a passage Karl thoroughly struck through later, probably so no one else could read it, but someone deciphered almost all the struck through passages anyway (not all heroes wear capes!).

Karl and Alex stayed (sporadic and long-distance) friends for the rest of Karl’s life.

Reinhard von Haeften (1772-1803)

The above picture shows a snippet from one of Alex’s travel journals where he noted Reinhard’s birthday (“14 Mai R.”) because sadly we don’t have a picture of Reinhard. But let’s hear how Alex described him:

“This Reinhard v. Haeften has been my only and hourly company for a year now. I live with him, he visits me in the mountains. [...] I have already ridden 8 miles [60 km] just to see him for a couple of hours. He is very tall, taller than most men and he’s only 22 years old but looks more mature than me [at 25]. He has a very remarkable face and everyone finds him to be one of the most beautiful men, and I too think he’s beautiful, but most importantly I have never seen purity of the soul, kindness and courtesy being reflected in anyone’s features as much as in his.”

Alex and Reinhard met in 1793 in Bayreuth (where Alex now worked as a mining official) and they quickly moved in together. However, shortly before meeting Alex, Reinhard had also managed to make a baby with a married woman 4 years older than him. Alex was friendly with Christiane, the child’s mother and helped to keep the birth a secret. The boy (named Friedrich Gustav Alexander, Alex’s godson and surely named after him) had to spend the first years away from his parents. In the meantime, Reinhard continued to live with Alex, accompanied him on business trips and mineralogical expeditions and in 1795 they went on a two-month trip through Northern Italy and Switzerland. It was only with and through him, Alex wrote to Reinhard once, that he could live, only close to him that he could be fully happy.

Later, after Reinhard and Christiane had finally gotten married (and reunited with their son), Alex wrote him a very long letter, proposing for the three of them to (continue to?) live together with Reinhard as head of the family and to settle for quiet life in Switzerland, Italy, or some small town in the west of Germany. That plan never worked out, but “Rein” (as Alex called him), Christiane, their by now two children and Alex lived and travelled together for another two years while Alex was already preparing for his big journey.

After he had sailed for the Americas in 1799, he tried his best to stay in contact with them. In his letters, he called them his “Herzensmenschen” (again, roughly: “his heart’s humans”), wrote them that he was dreaming about them day and night and how much he wished that his – their – Rein could be with him to see all the marvels, too. But cross-atlantic communication was bad during that time and in both directions most letters never arrived.

Sadly, Reinhard unexpectedly died in 1803 while Alex was still in America, meaning they never got to meet again. Alex stayed in contact with Christiane and the children − the only survivors of the shipwreck, as he put it − and wrote Christiane how he still remembered their time together, along with all the hopes and dreams that they had had and that despite the “all-robbing fate”, there was something unalterable in the depth of their love, that could only die with them. When Christiane remarried and had another son in 1806, she named him Gustave Louis Reinhard Alexandre. Alex continued to financially support Christiane and the children and in 1813, Reinhard’s son Fritz (Alex’s godson) visited Alex in Paris for three months.

Carlos Montúfar (1780-1816)

Alex met Carlos in 1802 in Quito and despite him having no scientific qualifications whatsoever, Alex chose Carlos to accompany him on his further journey. This decision offended botanist, geographer and astronomer Francisco José de Caldas (who himself had hoped to join the expedition) so much that he, in a letter to botanist José Celestino Mutis, famously called Carlos “[señor Barón de Humboldt’s] Adonis”, probably insinuating that Alex had picked Carlos purely for his looks, or even more.

Together with the rest of the party, Alex and his supposed “Adonis” travelled what today is Ecuador (where they climbed the Chimborazo), Peru, Mexico, Cuba and the USA. At least once during that journey (but perhaps regularly?) they shared a bed (as in some kind of temporary/mobile  accomodation) which we know because Alex explicitly says so in his travel journal when he describes a night in which Carlos had very bad stomach cramps which Alex tried to ease by heating handkerchiefs over the fire for him in the middle of the night.

Carlos accompanied Alex back to Europe in 1804 and stayed with him in Paris for a couple of months (where they most likely both attended Napoleon’s coronation) until he ultimately left to go to Madrid. But since Carlos had trouble getting money from South America, he still had to rely on Alex’s support. However, over time his contact to Alex seems to have broken off, because in a letter from 1806, Carlos complained about Alex not answering him anymore (“¡Qué largo silencio!”) and then told him, quite dramatically, that he was running out of money, and that he, Alex, was his only friend, his only hope, and the only person he knew in Europe who could tell him what to do. Whether all of Alex’s letters had gotten lost in the mail and whether Alex ended up helping him out or not, I think we don’t know. (But knowing him as I do and since he after all kept that letter, I’m sure that he did.)

Later, Carlos went back to South America, where he (alongside Símon Bolívar) fought to liberate the continent from the Spanish Crown − a fight he unfortunately didn’t survive: he was captured and executed by the Spanish in 1816.

Joseph Louis Gay-Lussac (1778-1850)

Alex and Gay (that’s what Alex called him, no pun intended) first met in 1804 in Paris, just after Alex’s return from America. Before, Gay had done two things: 1. contributed to a harsh critique on one of Alex’s papers, 2. ascended 7016 m in a hot-air balloon to investigate the air up there − a world record at the time and more than 1000 m higher than Alex had been on the Chimborazo, which had then also been a world record (in recorded European history).

Evidently, these were the best conditions for them to totally hit it off: they almost immediately started to work on the evaluation of Gay’s balloon ascent and often spent entire days working together in Gay’s room, from 9 am until after midnight. In a letter to his father, Gay wrote that Alex was the man with the best heart he had ever known, that their tastes and sentiments were absolutely the same − and that their hearts felt a great need to see each other very often.

After the publication of their paper (in which they, without fully realising it, also first identified the chemical composition of water: H2O), they (and another friend) went on a six-month field trip through Switzerland and Italy − where they were lucky enough to witness both an earthquake and a resulting Vesuvius eruption. They ended their journey in Berlin where Gay stayed at Alex’s for a couple of months and even started to learn German until he unexpectedly had to leave for Paris. His absence, Alex wrote after Gay had left, pained him a lot.

When Alex finally returned to Paris as well, they shared a single room at the École Polytechnique and even after Gay became a father in 1808 and married in 1809, Alex continued to (at least occasionaly) live with his family for many years. Gay’s first son (born in 1810) was named Jules Alexandre and while I have no proof that he was named after Alex, I think it’s safe to assume. Alex seems to have also been very intimately integrated into the family life, because he once wrote to Willdenow (with a humorous undertone of course): “We are always pregnant and just had a girl again. Right now we’re not feeling anything though.” Alex was also there to help when an explosion in a laboratory accident injured Gay’s eyes so badly that Alex and another friend had to take him home in a blindfold.

No letters between the two have survived (that we know of), but we do know that in the years after they first met, Alex considered Gay his best friend and “one of the kindest beings in the world”, that he named an American plant genus after him (Gaylussacia), and that they used “tu” with each other (which was very uncommon in France at the time except for childhood friends and family). They stayed friends for the rest of their lives and formed a kind of trio with Arago (see below).

Karl von Steuben (1788-1856)

We don’t know when exactly they first met but according to Alex they started to see each other daily in 1812 at the studio of painter François Gérard, where Alex had then started to take drawing lessons. Steuben, a young aspiring artist, lived and worked at Gérard’s studio. According to Alex, they “drew and painted” together “daily” for at least one or two years. Withdrawn from all other society, he wrote, this was now his “only joy” (interestingly almost the exact same wording he had used to describe his relationship with Reinhard 20 years earlier). However, it had perhaps been one of Alex’s exaggerations because he at least seems to have attended the famous salons Gérard held at his studio, where all the cool Paris people came to hang out. Alex reportedly talked incessantly, stayed late into the night (the main thing usually didn’t get going until midnight) and was found there again, freshly dressed and shaved, already at 7 in the morning.

In the meantime, Alex had started to torment basically everyone around him to commission Steuben to paint them, their sons, daughters, fiancés etc. to help Steuben support his poor mother in St. Petersburg. In 1814, even Alex’s brother noted that Alex had suddenly become strangely interested in art. In the same year, Alex became godfather to Steuben’s newborn son Alexander.

However, the biggest commission Alex got Steuben was a life-sized full-body painting of himself, which he intended to gift to his sister-in-law. It took 7 years to finish and in the end Alex’s brother had to pay for transport and framing because Alex had run out of money. Neither his brother nor his sister-in-law were overly enthusiastic about the likeness of the painting or Steuben’s talent in general but they still put it up in their home because after all, as his brother put it, they loved Alex and always liked a picture of him around.

Alex and Steuben stayed in at least loose contact for many years and Alex occasionally even still tried to get him commissions. Steuben’s painting of Alex hung in the Humboldt residence in Tegel for over a century before it was ultimately destroyed in WWII. Apparently though, another Alex portrait by Steuben from 1815 still exists in a private collection somewhere.

François Arago (1786-1853)

Arago, a young astronomer, was on a scientific expedition through Spain when he got entangled in the Peninsular War: mistaken for a French spy, he got arrested and incarcerated, managed to flee, was captured again, transferred, released, drifted off at sea to Algeria, all the while managing to hold on to his most valuable possession: his scientific records, which he kept hidden under his shirt at all times. When Alex heard about this (the two had never met before), he was so impressed by his courage and determination that he sent a letter to congratulate him — and to offer him his friendship. And in fact, one of the first things Arago did when he finally returned to Paris in 1809 was to go and meet Alex. It was the beginning of a 44-year-long friendship. They saw each other almost daily, worked together at the observatory, planned an expedition to Tibet (which never happened), and actually travelled at least to London in 1817 to visit Alex’s brother, who commented to his wife: “Alexander has arrived yesterday. But he isn't staying with me, even though his room had already been prepared. You know his passion to always be with one person who is his favourite at that time. Now he has the astronomer Arago who he doesn't want to part with (...) So they're staying at a nearby inn.” Just as with Gay, Alex and Arago used “tu” with each other and after Arago had gotten married in 1811, Alex was close with his wife and children as well as with his siblings, nieces and nephews — in some letters he even considered himself part of the Arago family.

When Alex was forced to move back to Berlin in 1827 to work for the king, he wrote Arago desperate letters on how much their separation pained him, how much he missed him every hour of every day. In the following 26 years, Alex’s letters to him were full of yearning pleas for just a couple of lines of his hand, which, as he wrote, always made his heart flutter. However, Arago often didn’t respond for months, but when he did, he at least knew to reassure Alex, writing things like: “Outside my family, you are, without any comparison, the person I love most tenderly in this world.” Alex kept a portrait and a large Arago bust in his study in Berlin, and until his late seventies, he travelled to Paris regularly (that is, every few years), first and foremost to see Arago. (Actual quote from 78-year-old Alex in a letter to his niece: “Every morning at half past eight without interruption, I’ve been at Arago’s in the observatory, today for the 62nd time.”) According to Arago, he and Alex have only been angry with each other one single time in all those decades and even that went over in an instant.

They saw each other for the last time in January 1848, on the last night of Alex’s last stay in Paris. When Arago fell ill five years later, his family informed Alex of his worsening condition — but Alex couldn’t travel to Paris to see him one last time. Even over a year after Arago’s death, Alex wrote that the memory of those last moments in January 1848 vividly came back to him during the night at least once a week. He outlived his friend by 6 years.