#money heist berlin

[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! 🤍

[meadowfics]

carebear

berlin (song jung-ho) x f!younger!reader

based off of this request here for fine shyt

warnings: reader is between 20-23 and berlin is his canon age, 41. this is a care bear if you do not know what a 'carebear' is

when you first joined the team, berlin was nothing more than a distant authority figure that you've happened to come across.

he kept to himself, barked orders with that effortless charm of his, and never really acknowledged you beyond what was necessary. you didn’t mind.

he was intimidating, older, too refined in ways that made you feel like you didn’t belong in the same world as him.

then, one day, he decided to teach you how to shoot a gun when you've revealed to the group that you've never shot one.

throughout your crimes, you used your hands and your many knifes. never a gun.

“you’ll need it,” berlin had said simply, handing you the weapon with that unreadable expression of his.

“it’s better to learn from me than to get yourself killed fumbling with it.”

so, you learned and somewhere between those lessons, between his patient instructions and your stubborn determination... you got closer.

late-night talks became a thing. when the others were asleep or too distracted with their own conversations, you and berlin would find yourselves sitting together, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

he never said too much about his past, always skimming over the details with vague answers, but you could tell.

you could tell there was something there, something dark and unspoken that lingered beneath his carefully crafted exterior.

so one night, as a joke, you handed him your stuffed animal that you brought inside of the mint with you.

it is a blue care bear you had since childhood, a gift from a family member who had long passed.

“here,” you had said, grinning, “for emotional support.”

berlin had scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t give it back right away.

instead, he held it, staring at it for a long moment before murmuring, “i never had a childhood.”

it slipped out, just like that.

suddenly, the joke wasn’t so funny anymore.

so, you left it with him.

“well, I guess it’s yours now,” you had told him, voice softer than usual, “i think you need it more than me.”

he didn’t argue.

he didn’t say anything at all, just gave you a look that you couldn’t quite place before walking away with the bear still in his hands.

a day later, the moment the care bear was spotted on berlin’s bed spot, the chaos began.

“wait, wait—what the fuck?” tokyo’s voice rang out first, eyes wide as she pointed at the small, blue bear resting on berlin’s pillow.

“is that—”

“no fucking way,” rio laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“that’s cairo’s bear.”

“no it can’t be,” nairobi chimed in, folding her arms.

“cairo would never give that away. it’s their first ever stuffed animal. it’s, like, sacred to them.”

moscow, ever the calm one, eyed berlin with suspicion.

“so, what, you stole it?”

denver, brows raised, looked between the bear and berlin like he couldn’t decide if this was hilarious or horrifying.

“man, cairo’s gonna kill you.”

before anyone could escalate things further, you walked in.

“what’s going on?” you asked, noticing how everyone suddenly turned to stare at you like you were holding the key to some great mystery.

nairobi wasted no time.

“cairo, did you give berlin your care bear?”

berlin, standing beside his bed, merely watched you, waiting for your reaction.

you blinked.

“yeah. why?”

silence.

tokyo was the first to break it.

“you did what?”

“why the hell would you give it to him?” denver added, “that thing was, like, your most prized possession.”

you glanced at berlin, finding him watching you closely, his expression unreadable as always, “because he needed it.”

that was all you said because to you, it was simple.

to berlin, it wasn’t.

for the first time in years, maybe in his entire life, he felt cared for in a way that had nothing to do with power or control. you had given him something that meant the world to you, not out of obligation, not out of manipulation, but because you wanted to. you saw something in him that even he struggled to see in himself.

suddenly, all those strange, unfamiliar feelings he had about you made sense.

he wasn’t just fond of you.

he was in love with you and things changed after that.

it was subtle at first. berlin was softer with you, more attentive in ways that the others barely noticed but you felt every second of the day.

he started lingering when you talked, his fingers brushing against yours when he handed you something, his voice quieter when he spoke to you.

he started looking at you differently.

eventually, in the quiet moments between the chaos inside of the mint, he kissed you.

the kiss slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

and for once, maybe he did.

the others are occupied, discussing strategy, bickering over details, but you and berlin find yourselves alone in one of the back rooms of the mint.

the dim light casts shadows over his sharp features, and there’s something unreadable in his eyes as he looks at you.

“you’re tense,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“of course i’m tense. we’re in the middle of one of the biggest heists, and oslo dying didn't make that feeling easier...”

“ah, but you hide it well,” he says, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“better than the others, at least.”

berlin's voice is lower than usual, softer. there’s something different in his posture, something deliberate about the way he closes the distance between you.

the older man's hand reaches out, tracing the back of his fingers along your jaw, barely touching, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“berlin,” you start, but the way he looks at you, as if you’re something he’s trying to memorize, steals whatever else you were going to say.

he tilts his head slightly, studying you, before murmuring, “tell me if you don’t want this.”

you don’t hesitate.

instead, you close the space between you, fingers tangling in the collar of his pink suit (that matches yours) as you pull him down to you.

berlin's lips meet yours slowly at first, testing, but the moment he feels you melt into it, his control snaps.

one hand cups the side of your face, fingers threading into your hair, while the other finds your waist, tugging you flush against him. he kisses like he does everything else...with intention, with precision, like he’s savoring every second.

you kiss him back just as fiercely, matching him beat for beat, pressing up on your toes to get closer, to feel more. berlin's hand tightens on your waist, grounding you, claiming you.

when you part for air, he doesn’t let you go, his forehead resting against yours and your nose touching his, his breath fanning across your lips.

“cairo,” he murmurs, voice rougher now, raw in a way he never lets the others hear, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

you smirk, still breathless. “good. that makes two of us.”

the way berlin looked at you, with that smirk of his... of course you leaned back in without hesitation, hands gripping the lapels of his suit as you press your lips against his again, deeper this time.

berlin meets you with the same hunger, his fingers tightening at your waist, sure to leave bruises as he is pulling you flush against him.

the kiss is slow but consuming, his lips moving against yours with practiced ease, like he’s unraveling you one touch at a time.

the large hand of his slides up your back, his fingers tracing along your spine, sending a shiver through you. the warmth of his palm settles at the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head, deepening the kiss.

he kisses like he owns you, like he’s memorizing the shape of your lips, the way you sigh softly into his mouth when he bites gently at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue.

berlin's other hand drifts lower, gripping your hip, steadying you as he walks you back a step until your spine presses against the wall.

the shift only makes the kiss more urgent, your bodies molded together as he explores your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue.

you feel the way his breath hitches when you slide your hands up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit, holding him there like you never want to let go.

he moves like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s taking his time, even as the tension between you coils tighter.

the way he kisses you... thorough, possessive, like he’s letting himself lose control for the first time, makes your heart pound in your chest.

berlin's lips leave yours only to ghost over your jaw, trailing soft, heated kisses along the column of your neck, before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

the man's breathing is now uneven, his pupils blown wide with something unreadable, but he doesn’t step away. instead, his forehead rests against yours, and neither of you move, caught in the heavy silence of everything.

the next day:

inside of the mint, things were intense. you finally got the see the inspector face to face, where she wanted to make sure all of the hostages were okay.

after the whole thing, berlin always made sure you were taken care of.

if there was ever a moment of downtime, he would bring you water, insist you eat, remind you to take breaks even when you insisted you were fine. berlin's way of caring was subtle, but you could feel it.

when the professor sent orders, berlin always made sure you weren’t in the line of fire from his brother, always keeping an eye on you from across the room. you never were, since you were actually a favorite of the professors.

“you did well today,” berlin came up to you, voice softer than the others ever got to hear.

“so did you,” you’d reply, watching the way his face eased when he was alone with you.

sometimes, when the nights stretched long, and the weight of the heist pressed against your shoulders, berlin would let you lean against him, his arm a steady weight around you.

“you know,” he murmured once, as you rested your head against him, “i never thought i’d meet someone like you in a place like this.”

you tilted your head up to look at him.

“what the hell does that mean?”

all he did was look air you, before turning his head away with that smile of his.

you smiled, knowing that berlin is not known for vocalizing his romantic feelings.

suddenly, you lift your head, murmuring, “oh, wait, i forgot something.”

berlin watches as you stand, stretching slightly before stepping away, disappearing into the adjoining room.

when you return, the small blue care bear is cradled in your hands, the same one you had given him days ago.

you don’t say anything, just press it against his chest before climbing onto his lap, settling against him with ease.

berlin doesn’t argue, doesn’t question it.

instead, he lets you tuck yourself into him, his arms wrapping around you as you bury your face against his shoulder, already beginning to drift.

the older man's fingers move lazily over your back, soothing, grounding, as your breathing evens out, sleep claiming you in the safety of his embrace.

he stays awake for a while, watching you, taking in the way your lashes rest against your cheek, the way your fingers are curled around the bear as if it’s second nature.

there’s something strangely soft about the whole moment, something he’s not used to...something he never thought he’d want. here you are, trusting him enough to fall asleep in his arms, giving him a piece of yourself without hesitation.

the weight of that realization settles in his chest, heavy yet welcome.

eventually, he exhales slowly, shifts slightly, and lets his eyes close, deciding, just this once, to rest inside of the mint.

masterlist

[sensationallysangwoo]

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚜: 𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗/𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐-𝙷𝚘 𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝! 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝙻𝚄𝙵𝙵 ♡

♡ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜.

♡ 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚂𝚎𝚖𝚒-𝙰𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝. 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢. 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎. 𝙰𝚐𝚎 𝙶𝚊𝚙 (𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙰𝙻 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙳𝚄𝙻𝚃.)

♡ 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Your hands are shaking. You feel like crying as you anxiously wait for the result of the test.

You honestly should have 100% expected this to happen, but in the moment, neither you nor Berlin were thinking about protection.

He was on top of you, kissing and worshipping your whole entire body as you came undone underneath him. The way he slammed in and out of you was heaven as your bodies intertwined passionately.

Before you knew it, he exploded inside of you and you were so caught up in the pleasure you didn’t even consider the outcome. All you could focus on was him.

Berlin is your boyfriend officially, but things are still very very new. You have only been together for a little less than a year now but you know in your heart that he’s perfect for you. He’s intimidating, bold, the slightest bit domineering. Your sweet, gentle disposition compliments him perfectly, making you two a match made in heaven.

He’s older than you as well, so much older. He’s 41, and you are in your early 20’s. You look up to him as sort of an authoritative figure, but primarily a lover. He guides you through life and you remind him not to take himself too seriously, despite the “business” he’s in.

The double line illuminates on the screen of the test. Positive. Your pulse throbs in your neck as anxiety washes over you.

What will Berlin think? You immediately do what your brain always does: imagine the worst case scenario. He’s going to be pissed, upset, stressed, and then leave you. He won’t want to deal with a baby at his age, let alone at all. Berlin, Song Jung-Ho, one of the most high-profile criminals in the country, is not going to want to be a father. Nuh uh. No way.

You hastily throw the test in the trash.

You’ve always wanted to be a mother. You love babies. You have always wanted to nurture a little one, watch them grow and develop their own personality, and share so many memories and experiences with them. Will Berlin want that too, though? You really truly don’t know, but as mentioned before, you’re almost certain he doesn’t want that. He’s too wrapped up in his “business.”

The front door jostles and heavy footsteps clunk in the foyer. Shit, he’s home for the day.

“My angel! Where are you hiding?” His voice echoes through the house as you slowly tiptoe out of the bathroom.

“Hey…how’s the planning going?” You ask, trying to make conversation while also keeping your cool.

“It’s going well. Those goddamn hostages better start behaving themselves, though. I’m tired of their shit. The only way to get ‘em to listen is to scare the shit out of ‘em.” He scoffs.

You nod slowly, a worried expression clearly donning on your face.

He’s quick to notice that you are not your usual cheery, bubbly self. Normally you’re all over him, arms wrapped around him, peppering his face in kisses. Right now, you’re noticeably somber.

He approaches you. His tall frame hovers over you as he brings a hand up to your cheek, cupping it tenderly.

“What’s wrong my little love? You can tell me anything.” He softens his gaze.

You smile bashfully at his touch. His dark, almost black eyes bore into you . Your own eyes fall to his chest, unable to maintain eye contact. He knows the hold he has on you.

“Nothing, Jung-Ho. Just have a stomach ache, that’s all.” You lie.

“Go lie down, then.” He squeezes your cheek before kissing it, then pats your head and makes his way to the bathroom. Oh fuck.

Your heart races. You lie down on the couch and hope and pray he doesn’t notice the test in the trash. This was futile.

The bathroom door creaks. Berlin stands in front of you. He crosses his arms, smirks, and cocks an eyebrow. “You thought I wouldn’t notice, huh?”

You gulp as you quickly stand up.

“Jung-Ho, I’m so sorry—I was way too scared to tell you—If you want to leave I understand—“ Your face burns red hot as your stammer.

He smiles so widely that the corners of his eyes wrinkle. He immediately pulls you into a strong embrace. He nearly breaks you with how tightly he’s holding you. You melt into him, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. His lips meet yours in a gentle, soft kiss.

“We’re going to be parents!” He exclaims. Your heart melts at his enthusiasm. You’re extremely excited and also extremely relieved.

He presses his forehead against yours. “Why were you afraid to tell me, little love?” His words ghost against your lips.

“I-I didn’t know how you were going to react. I was afraid you were going to leave me.”

“Leave you! That’s ridiculous, my darling. I would never leave you no matter what. Also, you’re a horrible liar. I knew something was up with you the minute I stepped in here.” He laughs.

You beam at him. You look at him and see your future. The father of your child. Your future husband, hopefully. He rubs your belly tenderly. “Well what are we waiting for? We need to prepare for our little one!”

Over the next couple of months, your belly grows and so does your love for Berlin. He’s always been a completely different person when he’s at home, with you. Now he’s an extra different person with the pregnant version of you.

He gets you whatever you want at the drop of a dime. If you mention you are craving something, he will buy you 100 of them. He cooks for you, cleans for you, and watches you like a hawk to make sure you’re safe and healthy. He’s follows you everywhere, you’re his top priority.

He’s so worried about you that it could even be a little overbearing at times, but you know he means well. He doesn’t want anyone even so much as looking at you while you’re pregnant.

“Do you need anything? Do you want anything?” You hear these phrases come out of Berlin’s mouth over a thousand times a day. His tough exterior completely fades when it comes to you and your child. He’s always holding you close by, his arm around you protectively.

He holds your waist, holds your belly, and is constantly giving you kisses and cuddles and reassuring you that you look beautiful, even if you might not feel that way.

The night before your due date rolls around, and Berlin is as excited as ever. His phone rings, but he doesn’t care about anything relating to the heist right now. He just wants to meet your precious angel who he will love forever, along with you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @yxluana , @swtt4hk , @massivecheesecakesmuttss , @miss-conjayniality , @ladiesman21777 , @dilfismz , @vkeyy , @kudiikis , @daeholuvs , @insidekatmind , @sealcowboy , @torasgfreal , @melfresita-ruri , @ellfucksup , @hrh007, @m4nbl00d , @phoebecatesl0vr , @meadowfics

[megsvway]

rio move that should be me 😞

[dailytvwomen]

Itziar Ituño as Raquel Murillo — in Money Heist: Berlin (2023)

[screenbeanz]

Pedro Alonso as Berlin (Season 1).

[berlindefonollosa]

BERLIN | Date Announcement

That's the beauty of theft

[81buttons]

I Shouldn't Have Met You

La Casa de Papel/ Money Heist

Sergio Marquina / El Profesor x OC

Summary : After the heist, after Berlin's death, Sergio and you decide to live together. However, this turns out to be more complicated than expected.

Warnings: character death in the past, pregnant reader, angst, and a bit of fluff.

———————————————————————

You collapse, the weight is too heavy, your knees buckle. The pain is so intense you scream in agony. You cry out, hoping to stop this massacre, you scream until you have no air left to breathe. You reach out towards his body, the red suit half-destroyed, and you see his face and his lifeless eyes.

"NOOOO!!" you wake up with this word in your mouth. No, it wasn’t possible. No, no, no, it must have been a nightmare. Indeed, it was a bad dream, but one based on elements that actually happened.

Andrés was dead.

You heard the door burst open, and Sergio rushed in, out of breath, holding a pistol, terrified. It wasn’t his nature to use weapons; he rarely did, only when necessary. But becoming the most wanted man in Spain, perhaps in Europe, left him no choice but to get a weapon. Hearing you scream in the dead of night was reason enough for him to pull that pistol from its hiding place.

"I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was a bad dream, I’m sorry," you said, breathless.

Sergio finally relaxed, though his heart started pounding again when he saw you crying. He approached your bed and sat on the edge, taking you in his arms.

"I’m sorry, sorry…" you kept repeating, sobbing, beginning to cry harder. Sergio held you tighter, quickly checking your arms and head to see if you were hurt.

You were a mess. Then again, he was a mess too after his brother's death, but he wasn’t pregnant with the man he loved and hadn’t watched him die in front of his eyes. Thank God he hadn’t seen his brother's face; he wouldn't have been able to sleep either… he wouldn't have been able to live.

You and Sergio had known each other for years. Since childhood, in fact. You were neighbors, and you quickly grew close, even though you didn’t share the same interests. Sergio was a very shy child, spoke little, read a lot, and was often alone. You were always energetic, had two brothers, and stood up for yourself. You were the one who made the first move. You couldn’t understand how someone could stay cooped up at home reading when the weather was so beautiful outside. After some insistence from your mother, you rang his doorbell, asking if he wanted to play at the park with you. And that’s where it all began. From that moment, you were convinced your life changed.

If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have discovered a love for reading. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have become best friends. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you might have crumbled after your mother’s death. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have had your first kiss with him. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have had the courage to leave your abusive father for good.

Indeed, your life changed after meeting him. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have joined the heist. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have met his brother and fallen in love with him. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t be carrying the child of the man you love, but you wouldn’t have seen him die in front of your eyes either. So yes, for you, a meeting can change a life.

"Try to go back to sleep," he whispered in your ear after you calmed down a bit.

"I can’t, if I sleep, if I sleep, I see him," you paused for a moment, "and I don’t want to, not like that," you said, trying to stifle a sob.

"Do you want me to stay for a while?" he asked, not even sure what he was offering. "Until you fall asleep."

You hesitated for a moment, but deep down you knew you couldn’t refuse, you didn’t want to refuse.

"Please," you replied.

Sergio lay down next to you, a protective arm still around your shoulders. Slowly, you closed your eyes.

Sergio couldn’t. Not with you beside him. Not the "you" his best friend he grew up with. No, the new “you", the one who was his brother’s wife.

He couldn’t sleep next to this “you”. Not with the you who was pregnant. And certainly not with the you he had fallen madly in love with over the past few months. No, he couldn’t.

It was wrong, wasn’t it? Being attracted to you wasn’t part of his plan when he offered to have you live with him on this island, to help you with the pregnancy, with the child.

After all, you were right.

If you hadn’t met Sergio… you wouldn’t have fallen in love with each other… especially in this situation.

[stimtfil]

tw bright colors and eye strain❗❗

[cherryhaesoo]

god I need them

[raventargaryenaep]

Money Heist: Berlin 1x01 - Cameron Gifs. Reblog and Share! DO NOT STEAL.

[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!!! 🤍

[meadowfics]

keep your eyes on me

berlin (song jung-ho) x f!reader

based off of this request here

warnings: threats, mentions of injury, jealousy

you've never been the jealous type, or at least that's what you tell yourself.

however, there's something about the way tokyo looks at berlin, something about the way they exchange glances in silence, the way they seem to understand each other without words even in their arguments and fury.

it's been poking at you since the heist began. it's probably nothing. berlin has been yours for years now, since the moment he crossed into south korea, bloody and half-dead, desperate for escape.

tokyo has a thing with rio anyways. however, you've stood by berlin through everything, watched him rise again, rebuild himself into something terrifyingly magnificent. y

ou've seen every inch of him, every flaw, every secret...so why does tokyo make you feel like you're missing something?

maybe it's the stress. maybe it's just the paranoia that comes with a job this big. every time you see them lock angry eyes across the mint’s floor, your stomach knots up, and your hands clench into fists.

so, you decide to do something about it.

it starts small.

you stop standing at berlin's side, opting to linger near denver instead. denver, who is easy to get along with, who doesn't have the same unreadable expressions and complicated histories as berlin. denver, who laughs with that ridiculous hyena-like cackle, who doesn't take everything so damn seriously.

he flirts easily, and you let him. even though the both of you know damn well that you guys do not like each other. denver has a thing with that beautiful hostage, and you support it.

however, denver seems to notice that you're using him and he wants to piss off berlin too as revenge.

you let yourself laugh a little louder with denver. you touch his arm when you talk, lean into him when you're standing close. it’s harmless...at first.

then you start choosing denver’s side over berlin’s.

when a small argument breaks out over how to handle a hostage trying to make a run for it, berlin says to use fear. denver says to use charm. you agree with denver.

you make a point of siding with him, nodding along as he grins. berlin’s face barely changes, but you know him. you know the tension in his jaw, the slight twitch in his fingers.

so you push further.

when denver struggles to move a heavy stack of cash pallets, you rush to help, grinning as you brace against the weight with him. berlin watches from the other side of the mint, his arms crossed over his chest.

he doesn’t say anything, but you feel the weight of his stare, burning into you like a brand.

it’s working. god, it feels good.

you don’t speak to berlin unless necessary. if he gives you an order, you act like you don’t hear him the first time. you only respond when he repeats himself, your tone clipped and indifferent.

he isn’t used to this. he’s used to controlling you, to knowing where you stand, to having you in his orbit. he doesn’t like this new distance.

by the second day, berlin has had enough.

the professor is gone, caught up in his careful dance with the inspector. the others are preoccupied. the moment he finds you alone in the office, berlin shuts the door behind him and locks it.

the sound of the bolt sliding into place echoes in the small space, and before you can react, he’s in front of you, his hand wrapping around your neck...not tight, not enough to hurt, but enough to command your full attention.

“i know what you’re fucking doing.”

jung-ho's voice is low, controlled. the man's thumb brushes against your pulse point, and you know he can feel how fast your heart is racing.

still, you tilt your chin up, keeping your expression blank.

“what are you talking about?”

berlin lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking his head.

“don’t play dumb, barcelona. i know you too well.” jung-ho's grip tightens just slightly, just enough to make his point.

“you think i don’t see the way you’ve been throwing yourself at denver? the way you go out of your way to undermine me?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you repeat, voice steady, even though your whole body is tense.

“don’t you?” he leans in, lips brushing against your ear.

“you’re trying to make me jealous. trying to piss me off.”

you scoff, trying to ignore the way your skin burns under his touch.

“get over yourself, berlin.”

berlin hums, considering you. then, his other hand trails down your side, slow and deliberate, his fingers pressing into your waist.

“you want to know how i know?” he asks, almost lazily, “ it is because i threatened denver today.”

your breath catches.

he smiles, slow and sharp, like he can taste your reaction,

“told him if he didn’t stop entertaining your little games, i’d make sure he regrets it. and the hostages? well, let’s just say they almost suffered for your little stunt.”

your stomach twists. you know berlin. you know he’s capable of anything. your anger flares, hot and sharp.

“you’re sick.”

“and you’re reckless,” he counters, “playing with fire just to get a rise out of me? you should know better more than anyone else here.”

you glare at him, hands pressing against his chest, shoving him back just enough to breathe.

“maybe if you weren’t so fucking close to tokyo and arguing with her all of the time, i wouldn’t have to.”

berlin blinks, then exhales through his nose, amused.

“so that’s what this is about.” he tilts his head, eyes searching yours, “you’re jealous.”

“i’m not—”

“yes, you are.” berlin's fingers trace patterns along your collarbone.

“you think i want her?” he leans in again, lips just barely brushing against your jaw, “when i have you?”

your breath stutters. you hate how easily he does this to you, how effortlessly he dismantles your defenses.

“tokyo means nothing to me,” he continues, voice softening, but not losing its edge, “she’s a soldier. a piece in the game. but you?” his thumb presses against your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“you are mine.”

you hate how much you love hearing it.

berlin watches you carefully, reading every flicker of emotion across your face.

“say it,” he murmurs, “say you’re mine.”

the silence stretches between you, thick with tension. you should fight it. you should push him away, walk out that door, keep playing your game.

you don’t.

“i’m yours.”

berlin’s lips curl into a victorious smile, “good girl.”

then, he kisses you...hard, claiming, punishing. you meet him with equal intensity, fingers twisting in his hair, pulling him closer. berlin's grip on your neck eases, sliding down to your back, pressing you flush against him.

the heat between you is undeniable, electric, all-consuming.

when he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips, his hands finally leave your body.

“no more games, barcelona.”

you nod, but you both know better.

berlin may have won this round, but the game between you is far from over.

masterlist

[sensationallysangwoo]

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚎: 𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗/𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐-𝙷𝚘 𝚡 𝙶𝙽!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝙻𝚄𝙵𝙵𝚈 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃 ♡

♡ 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐-𝙷𝚘. 𝙷𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 “𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗.” 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞?

♡ 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃, 𝙰𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙾𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙿𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖!𝙱𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗 (𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚝), 𝙰𝚐𝚎 𝙶𝚊𝚙 (𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙰𝙻 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙳𝚄𝙻𝚃)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“I want you to be honest with me.”

Your gentle voice cuts through the silence in the room.

Your thumb caresses his soft cheek. His usual arrogant, confident demeanor has shrunk down into something somber. Something soft.

His dark eyes meet yours as his breath hitches. If he loves you, he needs to open up to you. And he does.

With a deep exhale through his nose, he begins telling his story.

“I’m from the North. When I was a child, my mother and I tried to escape by swimming across the river. She was killed, and I was thrown into a prison camp. Served 25 years. 25 years of hell that I’ll never get back. We were beaten, starving, and you know I’m sick. No treatment, obviously.”

You gulp. Berlin always, always kept his past hidden from you. You two haven’t been romantically involved for too long, but if you wanted to get serious about this relationship, you had to know his story.

You continue comforting him. Still cupping his face, you study his expression. He’s got a certain sadness in his eyes. You can see right through him. You see a broken, traumatized, vulnerable man.

He continues.

“I was in solitary confinement. I did some…rather violent things….” He trails off.

Deep down, he’s absolutely terrified of your judgement. He’s terrified of losing you, someone who’s brought so much joy and happiness into his life. He can only hide the real him from you for so long.

“There was a riot and a guard was killed. We escaped, and now I’m here. I’ve met some people who I…work with. You could call it a gang.”

Your expression remains soft. You love him so much. Nothing he is saying is changing your mind, but he thinks the exact opposite.

“Crime is all I know now. You wanted to know so badly, so what do ya think? Do ya still love me now, or what?” His eyes find the floor. You have never, ever seen him like this. The boisterous, theatrical Berlin you initially met is just a broken man.

The smallest, slightest smile tugs at your lips. “Of course I still love you. Nothing will never change that, Jung-Ho.” You gently reassure him.

He nuzzles his face into your touch. The faintest smile graces his lips. You read his energy. He feels safe with you. You are his security.

You lean in, your face inches away from his. Your lips are about a centimeter away from his. “You’re stuck with me Jung-Ho…” You gently graze your lips against his. He melts into the kiss, moving his mouth perfectly in sync with yours.

The kiss is soft, tender and passionate. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you as if you’d be gone the second he let go.

“I know the way I am. I just want you to love me.” His words break you. You can’t even imagine what he had to endure, and yet, knowing the way he acts and behaves all adds up now.

“Wanna see how much I love you?” You whisper against his lips. He nods, and before you know it you’ve scooted yourself onto his lap, on his office chair.

Your tongue is deep in his mouth. Heavy breathing and panting fill the room. His hands grab your ass harshly, possessively. He looks up at you with glassy eyes. He almost looks drunk off of you.

“Mmmm sweetheart, you drive me fucking crazy, y’know that?” He purrs.

His lips burn kisses into the soft skin of your throat. You close your eyes and a moan escapes yours lips.

His hands find their way under your shirt. His fingertips are cold, causing your to shiver at the sensation. His bulge presses into your core and the pressure alone causes you gasp and crave more.

“Need you so fuckin’ bad, little love. Fuuuuck—“ he groans as your fingers tug at his hair.

“You think you can handle it, Jung-Ho?” You ask as you grind down on his bulge.

He smiles at you devilishly. “You don’t know who you’re talkin’ to sweetheart. Come on, fuck me.”

You didn’t need to hear that twice. You practically rip his vest off and his button down shirt, revealing his perfectly tanned body underneath. Your hands explore every inch of his skin. You feel possessive, too. You’re both that territorial over each other.

You tug his pants down, followed by his boxers, freeing his dick. You drop to your knees and instantly take him in your mouth. He watches you intensely. His eyes are not leaving you as you sink your mouth down on his length.

He throws his head back and moans at the first contact of your warm mouth on his sensitive tip. His face scrunches up in pleasure. You take him as far down as you can until you feel yourself gag. You press on, though. You want to give Berlin everything you can.

He begins to thrust slightly, fucking your mouth gently. His hands are locked tightly in your hair. “Nggghh…don’t move, sweetheart. Just let me use you for a sec, okay?” You moan around his cock to show your obedience. The vibration causes him to shiver.

You gag obscenely as his whole entire cock is inside your mouth, prodding the back of your throat and cutting off all of your air intake. He holds you down all the way, his hands are so strong you can’t even move your head even if you tried. You look up. His chest heaves with a laugh as the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Ohhh you’re so fucking cute with my dick in your throat, baby.”

Hot wet tears stream down your face as he roughly pulls his dick out of your mouth. You whimper at the newfound soreness.

“Get on top of me again and fuck me like you love me.” He commands.

You climb on top of him and sink yourself down on his dick slowly. You feel yourself being stretched and you hesitate, afraid of the pain.

“Come on, my angel. I thought you loved me? Sit on it. Come on.” He coaxes you. Even though he’s technically “On the bottom” he’s still calling the shots.

You sink yourself further onto his hard cock, wincing at the full feeling inside of yourself.

“My sweet sweet angel baby. Oh so, so good. Fuck, ride it.” He groans.

You begin to slowly bounce on it, trying so hard to adjust to his huge length inside you. You are absolutely stuffed full of him. Slowly, the pain turns into pleasure as your walls accommodate him.

He slaps your ass sharply as you ride him. Your own moans and groans fill the room as he hits your sweet spot. His large hands guide your waist up and down. He’s basically fucking you like a fleshlight.

“Lean back a little.” He demands, and you do. With one arm wrapped around you so you don’t fall, he presses his other hand down on your abdomen.

“Feel that?” He smirks.

The pressure increases and you feel your orgasm crashing through your body.

You shudder and dig your nails into his shoulders, red pricks of blood dotting his tan complexion.

He comes undone too, moaning your name over and over and over again as he rides out his orgasm.

He spills inside of you. His seed overflows and drips everywhere, but neither of you care at all. You’re both wrapped up in the moment so intensely. Your eyes locked on each others. Your lips meeting once more in a hungry kiss.

You’re both panting, sweaty messes. Feeling satisfied and exhausted, you slink off of him. As you’re putting your clothes back on, Berlin reaches his hand out to you.

You grab it and hold it, feeling the rough callouses on your soft palm.

“So you still wanna be with me?” He asks you, seeking reassurance.

“Of course I do, Jung-Ho.” You smile, lean down, and kiss his lips once more.

You don’t even know what you’re in for just yet, but Berlin is yours, and that’s all that matters.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

AHHHH MY FIRST BERLIN FIC POSTED TO TUMBLR IM FREAKING OUT. I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVED IT OMG. I TRIED I REALLY DID BUT IM STILL TRYING TO GET A FEEL FOR HIS CHARACTER. GONNA START WORKING ON DEM REQUESTS AGAIN!!! This one was just kinda self indulgent hehehehe. Have a great day everyone!!! Love, G!!! 🤍

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @yxluana , @swtt4hk , @massivecheesecakesmuttss , @miss-conjayniality , @ladiesman21777 , @dilfismz , @vkeyy , @kudiikis , @daeholuvs , @insidekatmind , @sealcowboy , @torasgfreal , @melfresita-ruri , @ellfucksup , @hrh007, @m4nbl00d ,

[shhuuga]

im obsessed with him. it's not healthy.

[amalthiaph]

Alicia Sierra you will always be iconic to me.