#soo ho imagines

[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]

Nsfw alphabet~ Berlin

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After sex, he will hold you close to him, with one arm resting on your shoulder while Berlin stands with a smile somewhere between satisfied and arrogant while smoking a cigarette.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Berlin loves everything about you, he is obsessed with you. He loves your eyes a lot, he could get lost in them for hours and above all he loves your ass and your breasts. He is also obsessed with your thighs and hips, he loves to touch and squeeze them.

Berlin likes everything about him, he knows he is attractive and is proud of it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Berlin loves to come inside you and in your mouth. He loves to have sex without a condom because he loves to fill you up and says that the condom is a waste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to fuck you with his gun and he loves it when you call him daddy and submit to him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lots of experience, makes you scream with pleasure.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves to fuck you doggy style while slapping your ass but he also loves to fuck you missionary style while choking you.

J = Jack off (handjob headcanon)

He doesn't jerk off much because he has you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Berlin has many kinks one of them are:

-Domination Kink:Berlin loves to be in control;

-Praise Kink: He loves receiving compliments from you, it boosts his ego;

-Daddy kink: He loves when you call him daddy, he loves hearing you so crave him;

-Degratation Kink: Berlin loves to slap your ass and choke you, it makes him even hornier for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He would fuck you anywhere, anytime.

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

Even your delicate everything could cause him to get an erection.He worships you and loves everything about you.

N = Nickname (as he calls you)

He loves giving you pet names but her favorite for you is darling.

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

He loves to receive but he doesn't mind eating your pussy at all, in fact he loves to do it, he could stay for hours and hours.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Berlin is rough, he loves to hear you scream and moan his name loudly and above all he loves to see you desperate for him and with your legs shaking.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves quickies very much, he would do them anywhere.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He loves the risk, it excites him even more especially because you don't know how to keep your moans silent and he wouldn't even try to make you stop, he likes the idea of someone feeling how good he's fucking you and only he can do that.

S= Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It has enough stamina to last all night.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's not very loud but his expression and when he grunts and growls will let you know that he's really enjoying it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It's big enough to give you pleasure and to make you scream.

[rystiel]

squid falls..….. gravity game……….?

[hyunjinners]

꒷꒦ ⊹ ๑ ❛masterlist: dp: dog day.❜ =͟͟͞♡ ‧ ˚ ₊

⊹₊˚ʚ❛αԋɳ ʝυɳ-ԋσ. . .❜ɞ

.ᨘ۫. ۪→ "The End Justifies The Means" (fem reader)

❝ ꒰ 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 ꒱ Although Jun-ho was in danger of defecting, he couldn't help but visit his lover, whom he was afraid he wouldn't be able to see for a long time.

.ᨘ۫. ۪→ "Comfort Home" (fem reader)

❝ ꒰ 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 ꒱ Jun-ho's family is full of ups and downs, but his days become better when Jun-ho ends up in the arms of his beloved.

⊹₊˚ʚ❛ԋɯαɳɠ ʝαɳɠ-ʂσσ. . .❜ɞ

.ᨘ۫. ۪→ (coming soon...)

: ♡₊˚𓂃⠀◟ New chapters will be added soon! Keep an eye out and tell me what you think. :)

꒷꒦ ⊹ ๑ ❛principal masterlist❜ =͟͟͞♡ ‧ ˚ ₊

[fav-exo-stuff]

Hwarang x Reader survey!!

First and foremost, I’d like to gauge whether or not this idea is worth writing!!

So question, is anyone still interested in Hwarang?

If I make a Hwarang fanfic where the reader (most likely fem, very sorry) is a True Bone Painter and Calligrapher that occasionally gets commissioned by the officials (and maybe the the royal family), would anyone read it? You can also suggest what you'd like to see! I personally am just strict about keeping the "Painter" part, but the bone status of the reader can be worked around!!

(More below the cut)

I initially had this idea that the reader would be mixed race/looked like the descent of a different race while maintaining their bone status by having one of the parents out of the picture and be unable to clear up the nature of their ancestry. (Essentially just plot armor so that they don't question you don't look a certain way/to make anyone fit into the narrative regardless of their natural features.)

I'm also not super strict on the reader's status! It's just that generally speaking, it would be more convenient for the reader in every sense of the word to traverse the Hwarang Universe with a little help lolol

So you can suggest to have be, "a half-breed" but just keep in mind the obstacles that might come this person's way!

To add to this, every other chapter (maybe) will feature an inked artwork to portray what the reader has worked on!! Like this;

This is an example of something I made in preparation for this idea (with random sketches of men with long hair, and a funny-looking Ji Dwi lolol) to make the story a little more worth looking into!! The "paintings" will most likely be of random characters that may be some of the reader's commissioners, or maybe even one of the main cast depending on the scenario!!

Anyways, here are some ideas I have for the reader!! Feel free to vote on what you’d like to see more :DDD

[aetisishere]

My Love is Sick - aetiswrites - Squid Game (TV 2021) [Archive of Our Own]

Go take a look if you want :)

Here's the summary:

Gi-hun wakes with no memories—except one undeniable truth: In-ho, the kind man with warm brown eyes and soft, fluffy hair, is his husband. Their life together is peaceful, domestic, filled with quiet moments of love and care. But sometimes, things don’t feel quite right.

Little inconsistencies. Fleeting moments of unease. A nagging sense that something is missing.

In-ho tells him it’s just the aftereffects of his sickness, that everything will come back in time. And Gi-hun believes him—he has to. After all, what kind of husband would ever lie to the one he loves?

[mangodelorean]

Kong Altan, Episode 02

Featuring: Lee Dong Wook; Shin Hyun Soo; Son Woo Hyeon; Han Min; Shin Seung Ho; Yoo Hyun Soo

[X]

[tbaluver]

hellooo!! i absolutely love your fluffy family imagines/hcs so so much! say, do you have a reaction idea on LADS men when their child cries because of them? like they unintentionally hurt their babies feelings or unknowingly broke their promise (cuz they were busy/forgot) or absolutely anything that comes to your lovely genius mind aaa :'3

thank you and hope you have an amazing daaaay!! (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

Making Their Child Cry- The Love And DeepSpace Men

in order: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus genre: fluff fluff + imagine a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you so much angel im happy to hear that! <3 this was such a cute idea i had soo much fun writing these and i had many scenarios for each one! i got most of my ideas thanks to @ilovemitsuya mwah ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) rafayel's part was also inspired by a mother and daughter from tiktok! <3 i lovee writing them as dads bc i just know they would make great dads and husbands! i hope you enjoy reading and i hope you also have an amazing day luv (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“what?”

“santa isn’t real,” xavier says softly, not fully grasping the weight of the words he’s just dropped onto his son. xavier never saw the appeal of santa. the idea of someone sneaking into your house, leaving gifts, eating your cookies, and disappearing without a trace never sat well with him. but now, as he watches his son’s world crumble in front of him, he realizes how wrong it was to voice his opinions out loud, especially to his baby that still believes magic is real.

“b-but yes he is!” his son’s voice trembles, his lip quivering as tears begin to glisten in his eyes.

xavier’s heart sinks, his baby boy’s holiday magic is about to shatter and he didn’t realize that it would hurt this much to him. he reaches out but his son backs away, a tiny sob escapes his lips and runs away from xavier.

“momma! papa says santa isn’t real!” the words come out in sobs as your son clings desperately to your legs, his face wet with tears.

you gasp, your heart breaking hearing your baby boy cry as you scoop him into your arms. xavier watches, looking at you for a silent plea for help as you cradle your son close.

“hon it’s okay,” you murmur as you rock your baby boy gently. “santa’s real...it’s just that...well, your papa ate all of santa’s cookies last christmas and it made santa a little upset so right now, santa and papa aren’t exactly getting along. but i’m sure they’ll fix it.” you eye xavier, signaling him.

your son sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve, his little face scrunches, “h-he made santa upset! papa you have to fix it!”

xavier reaches out and wipes the last few stray tears from his son’s cheek, “alright, i’ll fix it. i promise.”

later that night

your son is fast asleep in his bed, his small frame curled up under the covers until tiny trails of sparkling light begin to swirl around his room. they twinkle like stars, softly glowing in his room.

your son stirs, his eyelids fluttering open, still heavy with sleep. he rubs his eyes as he tries to focus on the situation unfolding in front of him. at the foot of his bed, standing in a warm glow of light, is a santa and elf puppet.

“ho ho ho! hello there sweet child!” the santa puppet's voice exclaims but really it’s just xavier, hiding beside his small bed frame as he projects his voice through the puppet’s mouth. “i’m sorry i cannot be there in person right now,” the puppet- or xavier continues, “but i sent my best elf to deliver this as a message to you! your father and i have talked, and we have made up!” the elf puppet nods and claps enthusiastically.

your son’s eyes widen with joy, “really?! yay!!” hearing his son’s excitement and happiness makes his heart full and he wishes he can see the joy in his son’s face.

“you should sleep now,” the santa puppet says softly, “i’ll be seeing you again on christmas night. goodnight, little one!”

your son grins, wishing a goodbye to the santa puppet as he pulls the covers up to his chin and snuggles back into the warmth of his bed. but the excitement that was building up in his chest refuses to let him sleep fully. his eyes flutter once more and catches a glimpse of the twinkling lights and a trail of sparkling dust as the puppets disappear from his sight.

xavier peeks into his soon’s room, “is everything alright?” he whispers, stepping inside. his son sits up, wide-eyed with a grin plastered on his face.

“daddad! santa just spoke to me!” his voice filled with excitement and joy, making xavier smile.

he crouches down beside him, playing along as if he wasn’t there a few seconds ago. “really? i just spoke to him too.”

your son’s giggles and xavier can’t help but join in and laugh with him, “you guys are best friends now!”

“of course,” xavier says softly, “anything to make you happy. i’m sorry i upset you earlier.”

your son wraps his arms around his neck in a hug, “it’s okay dad. you never would upset me. i love you.”

xavier’s smile softens, returning the embrace. “i love you too, my little star,” he whispers, a small glow of dust still glowing in the room.

Zayne:

“we’re losing her!”

the panic in the room was almost tangible.

“don’t worry. it’s going to be okay,” dr. zayne replied calmly, even though he could feel the distress radiating through the room. his eyes remained focused on the patient in front of him.

earlier

“okay daddy ready?” his daughter’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she bounced up and down, clutching her beloved snow bear plushie. the little bear was dressed up as elsa from frozen and it was her most loved and cherished plushie she’s ever gotten.

zayne’s lips curled up into a smile from how cute his daughter was as he gives her a nod. he clears his throat before beginning. “let it go....let it goooo.” he sang flatly as tiny snowflakes and snowdrops danced in the air, falling gently on top of them. 

she gasped in delight as she watched the magic unfold before her eyes. to her it was way better than anything from the movie, it felt like real magic. she squealed with laughter, spinning in a circle until something unexpected happened.

an ice crystal drops into her plushie’s belly, forming a small tear on its soft stomach and its stuffing begins to fall out.

to zayne it was a minor mishap, just a small rip. but to his baby girl, it was an absolute catastrophe. her face twisted in shock and before zayne could even react, she screamed in horror, clutching her bear to her chest like she truly lost someone in a war.

“daddy!” she cries out, her tiny hands desperately trying to protect the bear as the stuffing slowly poured out. little did she know she was actually making it worse as she kept moving it around. “y-you monster!” her voice trembled.

hearing that made zayne’s heart sank but he swallowed his own disappointment and quickly scooped her into his arms. “i’m sorry, my little snowflake,” he says softly, rubbing her back as she hiccups with sobs. “it was an accident. we can fix her okay?”

she pulls away slightly, rubbing stray tears that fell from her eyes, “we can?”

zayne gives her a reassuring nod and a small smile, “i promise. she just needs a little surgery and she’ll be all better.” he brushes the hair from her face, helping her wipe away any tears with his thumb. “you must stay strong for her okay?”

he gently sets the plushie on the table in front of them, its belly exposed with cotton. “i’m going to get everything we need but i need you to stay and look out for her.” she nods seriously, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

zayne leaves the room momentarily and returns with a small pair of scissors, needle, and a thread. he kneels beside the table as his daughter stood nearby, watching anxiously.

the operation has begun.

zayne carefully snips away the thread, feeling the weight of his daughter’s gaze. a few clumps of stuffing accidentally falls out and she gasps, her eyes widening in panic.

“we’re losing her!” she cries, hiding behind zayne’s arms for comfort.

“don’t worry. it’s going to be okay,” dr. zayne replied calmly, even though he could feel the distress radiating through the room. his eyes remained focused on the patient in front of him. he continued to stitch, pulling the fabric of the bear back together, until the rip looked like it was never there. with one final knot, it was finished.

“there,” he gently smoothes her plushie’s fur, “all better now.”

her eyes widened, holding the bear closer to her chest. she squeezes it tightly, smiling widely. “thank you, you're the best!” she squeals, his heart lifting at the sight of her happiness.

she bites her lip and looks up at him, her voice small. “i-i’m sorry for calling you a monster papa,” she whispers.

zayne’s heart melted and scooped her up into a big hug, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of her small head. “it's alright my little snowflake. i know you didn’t mean it.”

she hugs him back tightly, her small frame nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “i love you daddy.”

“i love you too, dear. now let’s go get some deserving macaroons after our shift.”

Rafayel:

his son had always wanted to be just like rafayel. he’d watch with wide eyes as rafayel creates something beautiful in his studio. the way the artwork has come to life the moment he starts to paint or draw has always fascinated him.

as soon as his son announced that he had drawn something for him, rafayel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride.

“alright, show me what you’ve got my little glub glub!” rafayel grins, his heart was racing with excitement to see what his son had created.

but the moment his son had turned his sketchbook around, he froze. a chuckle escapes before he could stifle it. the drawing was rafayel’s face and it was....certainly unique. many would call it abstract. the proportions were comedically off and the colors were, well, not quite what rafayel expected.

“wow! this is....nice!” rafayel says, forcing the words out with a grin while desperately fighting back the laugh that was threatening to escape.

“raf....” you whispered, pinching his arm as a warning, your eyes narrowing with concern. you could tell rafayel was trying to hold back the sarcasm and you feared that their son might pick up on it.

“ouch!” he winces dramatically but it didn’t stop his amusement from creeping in. “i mean seriously, where did you learn to do this? and is this....pigmentation? where were you all these years?!” he lets out a small laugh, digging himself deeper into the joke.

unfortunately, his son was not laughing. his son pulls the sketchbook away and hugs it tightly to his chest, hiding the drawing.

“nono!” rafayel scrambles to fix it, “i promise my little glub glub, it’s sooo good!” but his words could not mask the laughter still lingering in his throat.

a pout forms on his son’s lip, arms crossed, just like what his father would do. “then why are you and mommy laughing?” his voice trembled, tears threatening to spill in his eyes.

rafayel froze, guilt washing over him once he saw tears streaming down his cheeks. “glub glub, mommy doesn’t know anything about art!” he tries to explain, his tone trying to remain gentle as he tries to cover your face with a pillow. 

he pulls his baby boy into his arms, “hey hey i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset. your art is nice. i think you’ve got talent. i love it. i really do.”

your son didn’t respond for a few seconds but he relaxed a little later in rafayel’s arms. “you promise?”

rafayel nods, his lips curling into a smile as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of his baby son’s head., “i promise my little glub glub. now let’s frame your masterpiece on the fridge!”

your son squeals in joy, bouncing on the couch with excitement but you intervene with a teasing smile. “how about we let daddy display your masterpiece in his pieces as well?” you give rafayel a mischievous grin, watching as his eyes narrow at you

“that’s even better!” he says, trying not to drop his playful sarcasm. “see my little glub? i love you so so much that i’ll even put your beautiful artwork in mine.” he throws in a playful wink as he lifts his son into his arms for a tight hug.

Sylus:

your little girl had waited for sylus for hours. he had promised her playtime as much as she wants before bed. but now, now it was almost too late. she clutched her favorite crow plushie as if it was a stress ball. she sat in front of the window, glaring at the headlights of his vehicle that flashed by.

when the door finally swung open, it wasn’t the usual welcoming scene of you and your daughter running up to him and greeting him. instead it was just you greeting him, your lips met his in a soft and tender kiss and his baby girl, well, she glared at him with all the fury and intimidation she could muster.

“sweetie?” his eyebrows furrowed as he knelt down to meet her height but she only puffed out her cheeks further, gripping her poor crow plushie.

“you lied!” she points at him accusingly, “you promised playtime!” she whined, her voice going higher, a sign that she was this close bursting into tears.

he sighed deeply, “i’m sorry, sweetie. i didn’t-”

before he could finish his sentence, the crow plushie was thrown at his face that made him pause mid sentence.  he let out a long exhale, brushing it off. she was already upset and he did break her promise.

“i didn’t mean to break our promise my little dove,” he continues, “but i;m here now, okay? i’m here.” he extends his large hands to wipe any stray tears that were already forming in her eyes.

his heart shatters when he sees her bottom lip quivering as she sniffles in protest and when he sees tears starting to form and spill. he cooed softly, his large hands tenderly brushing the tears from her cheeks. “it’s okay sweetie. here. i have something to make it up to you.”

suddenly the door swings open and luke and kieran trots in, both dramatically holding up a mountain of her favorite dolls and toys. “little hunter!” they exclaimed in unison, striking a pose.

her eyes widened, noticing those were her favorite toys. the toys she had been dreaming and wanting for a while. “are those for me?” she gasped, her eyes sparkled with excitement.

sylus smiles, picking her up gently as she squeals in delight. her pout disappearing into a cute grin. “of course,” he replies, his voice much more playful and softer as he boops her tiny nose. “we can play as much as you want now.”

her little arms wrapped around his neck, not reaching all the way due to her tiny frame and his much larger frame. “thank you so much! i love you daddy!”

sylus chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i love you too sweetie.”

you couldn’t help but watch in awe at the scene, “what do you say sweetie?”

she paused, her face scrunching up as her head drooped down. “i-i’m sorry for throwing my plushie at you,” she whispered, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

sylus lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “it’s alright sweetie. let’s not let it happen again. we can always work things out differently okay?”

she nods, listening intently.

“now, let’s all play, yes?” he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

the excitement in her eyes was truly adorable as she bounced in his arms, her little legs kicking with pure joy. “yes yes! let’s go!” she squealed, clapping her hands together in excitement.

luke and kieran had already made their way to her playroom and sylus held her close, guiding you to the room as well, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back.

[boozerbooz]

Hi, I saw you were taking orders so I was wondering if you could make one for the squid game (specifically for Dae-ho) Please 🙏

The reader is a player, almost no one approached him because his appearance was intimidating, so he spent his time alone in his place.

So, Dae-ho had been watching him and told his team that the reader could be a good ally, but they weren't very convinced. They told him that it wasn't a very good idea, since he seemed like a bully who could get them in trouble, and blah blah blah, but Dae-ho didn't pay attention to them and still went to approach the reader to talk.

Dae-ho introduced himself (with that cute smile of his) to the reader. He responded kindly and they had a conversation. Afterwards, Dae-ho took him to perform with his team. Although they were surprised because it was not what they imagined, the reader became friends with Dae-ho, always following him (taking care of him, flirting and so on). Sometimes, when the reader is not with him, the others take the opportunity to make fun of Dae-ho for the reader's behavior towards him.

..Ill be watching you

Pairing: Kang Dae-Ho x Male reader

Contains: He/Him+ you pronouns for reader, fluff, flirting

M/n feels eyes on him as he moves through the crowd to the back of the room, his intimidating presence causing people to move and make way for him. Dae-Ho was a partially.. questionable player, I mean, he always watched you in every game for no reason, always watching every breath you take , so you found him a little weird..

You finally moved to the back of the room and sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk beds before you hear footsteps and see someone’s shoes in front of you.

Dae-Ho fidgets with his fingers a bit before he introduces himself to M/n. “Hello!..” He says, trying to make a bit of small talk before he says his name. “Im Kang Dae-Ho, Dae as in large, and Ho as in tiger!” He says, holding up his hands in a tiger claw motion.

You saw this a little cute and chuckled a bit, smiling at his hand gesture before you introduce yourself to him.

“Im M/n” You say before extending your hand out towards him and he shakes it. The duo talks for a bit, talking about their interests, favorite color, foods, and things like that.

After a nice conversation between the both of them, Dae-Ho brings M/n to the others in his group. Everyone was.. suprised to say the least when they found out M/n was nice.

After awhile, M/n started to care for Dae-Ho more, sometimes checking up on him after games, hugging him, and flirting with him.

In one incident, M/n called him cute once and he swore he saw Dae-Ho’s cheeks flush with a rosy pink color. After that, Dae-Ho KNEW his group was gonna tease him after that.

I accidentally posted it once soo.. yea.. but I hope you like it!

[kuroyuki-kokuyoku]

Random TCF Thought - Betting Pool

Whenever I'm reading a fic about the whole transmigration reveal and Heni!KRS and the rest of Team 1 are in the room (now that I think about it, most has Heni!KRS giving the explanation first which makes sense since KRS!Cale needs to be handheld into explaining himself), I imagine Jang Sejong raising both hands in the air and screaming loud enough for Earth 2 and maybe a few worlds next over to hear, "FUCK YEAH, I WON THE POOL!!! KOREAN BBQ ON ME, FAM!!!"

Why?

Cuz ever since Heni!KRS came back from his week-long personal leave, it's like he's become another person altogether, and almost everyone noticed the change and is hella curious as to why.

As a result, people got to theorizing. Some say that it's because of all the assassins sent to eliminate him. Others say it's an elaborate April Fool's prank, even though April 1st is a long way's off. Many more are saying that it's because he's actually seriously thinking about retiring.

Eventually, the debates as to the reason why got so heated that a betting pool was made.

Jung So Hoon offered up that he might have had a head injury that went unnoticed.

Park Kyung Ho thinks that he's going through a mid-life crisis.

Agent Cha just thinks he's finally snapped after all the bullshit he went through.

Kim Min Ah wants to be optimistic and say that he's become more open with his feelings because of his niece.

Even Director Ma got in on the pool and offered up that he's only being a little shit now because Heni!KRS has always aimed for his position in the Company and has finally set off his decade long plan to usurp his status.

Then there are troll entries in the pool. A drunken bet gone wrong. Aliens had probed him. The Unseen Gods have chosen him as our messiah to our world. Purposefully getting fired so he can be a farmer. The Illuminati replaced him with a clone. The ghost of Lee Soo Hyuk has possessed him. The deceased spirits of his niece's parents transmigrated into Heni!KRS in order to take care of her. The Giant Spaghetti Monster got bored and wanted to sew chaos. They're all starring in a hidden camera show.

Meanwhile, Jang Sejong picked the most outlandish reason that came off the top of his head. Bodysnatcher.

Who knew the newbie was right?

[midnight--sadness]

So I've seen a number of anons bring up potential Gi-hun pregnant during the second games scenarios, but I think for maximum comedy he should have zero idea he is pregnant and randomly go into labor either during or in between one of the games.

Gi-hun, during the search for the Frontman, slept with "Young-il" nine months before, who claimed he was grieving the death of his wife and unborn child. Really, In-ho wanted to see Gi-hun, and one thing led to another. So when they "run into each other" at the second games, it seems like a massive coincidence.

Gi-hun has been displaying some strange symptoms like nausea and stomach pains and the occasional odd food craving that he has dismissed because of his stubbornness and determination to stop the games. Plus, the thought that he is pregnant just never even occurs to him because he is not showing because he has not eaten much or rested and simply because he believes he is far too old to worry about such things anymore. So when his waters break at the second games, it is a big "what the f*ck" moment for all parties.

I would love to imagine how In-ho reacts, but I have already taken up a lot of space 😂

this is soo gihun 😭😭😭😭 this would definitely happen to him vnienkgv

sometimes he feels some fluttering in his stomach but he just thinks it's something bad he ate, neverming that he never actually eats anything 🙄

i'm trying to think of the funniest moment he could go into labor and it's either as he is about to vote on the games or when they are playing mingle or the pentathlon.

let's say it's during mingle.

they have just crammed ten of themselves into the room and the shaman is yelling like a maniac and inho is staring creepily at gihun and gihun is bent over, clutching his stomach and watching the remaining players be gunned down outside.

his abdomen is cramping and his hips and lower back ache really back but he thinks it's the physical stress of the game and the result of not eating anything while being nauseous all the time. again, pregnancy flies right over his head because he. is. old.

the labour is one of those that is super quick!

gihun is still watching through the door slit when he feels something wet down his legs and he looks down to find his pants are wet.... daeho of course, would ask if he is okay and jungbae would chuckle that he peed his pants but gihun is just horrified and geumja is like "that doens't look like pee 🤨"

and gihun curls up in pain, holding his abdomen and inho is like "are u pregnant? 😟" and gihun says no, that's impossible... except that they had sex nine months. his contractions are worse and everyone is freaking out and the door won't open!!!! and inho feels like he is about to pass out bc what do u mean he's having another kid????

gihun has the baby right in that room, there isn't even time to get anyone out. junhee has a lovely preview of herself within the following month and daeho can't look gihun in the eye bc he's seen ALL of him. jungbae immediately claims to be the baby's fav uncle and geumja is admonishing gihun for not noticing that he is pregnant. of course, hyunju, our queen, held gihun's hand through the whole thing and let him yell at anyone he wanted, particularly inho 🥰

OR - he has the baby during the night while everyone is in the dormitory asleep

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ chapter one ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ season one | episode one | part one

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! please note this is a squid game fanfiction featuring original characters! read more about the main characters in this post and see the story masterlist for other chapters, i hope you enjoy reading! 🤍

˚ ༘♡ seong-ah moved through the bustling streets of seoul, her steps light but purposeful, weaving between pedestrians lost in their conversations and laughter. the afternoon sun hung high in the cerulean sky, casting long shadows against the pavement, while the aroma of sizzling fried food and sweet, sugary desserts wafted from the street vendors lining the roads. the city had an energy, one that was both electric and detached, alive with movement yet impersonal. she had spent a year here, and still, she felt like an observer rather than a participant.

˚ ༘♡ her gaze wandered ahead, catching sight of the small café nestled at the street corner. the signage was modest, the windows slightly fogged from the warmth of brewing coffee inside. and there, just outside, stood cho sang-woo. he held a cigarette loosely between his fingers, the smoke curling in the crisp air as he exhaled, his eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the present. he was dressed professionally, attired in his work clothes, dark slacks, an ironed white shirt, and a navy blazer, his tie loosened slightly as though exhaustion clung to him even in stillness.

˚ ༘♡ her breathing became somewhat apprehensive, her steps slowing. she pulled out her compact mirror, clasping it open with a practiced ease, scanning her reflection. no smudged mascara. no lipstick staining her teeth. not that her appearance mattered, this wasn’t a date. she couldn’t call it that. but they weren’t simply platonic friends either.

˚ ༘♡ when she first arrived in south korea from russia, everything had felt insurmountable, the language, the customs, the unfamiliar traditions of life in seoul. she had left behind a country that felt stagnant, a culture that had grown suffocating, chasing after something undefined but desperately needed. a better education, a better future, maybe even a version of herself she hadn’t yet met. but the transition had been isolating. she existed in the city, but she did not belong to it.

˚ ༘♡ and then there was sang-woo.

˚ ༘♡ their first meeting had been nothing extraordinary, he had merely stepped in to translate for her at a convenience store when she stumbled over her ill-spoken korean while trying to buy lunch. she had been flustered, embarrassed, but he had only been matter-of-fact, offering the words she needed before paying for his own items and walking away. she hadn’t expected to see him again. but their paths kept crossing in the way fate enjoys taunting strangers, and when she finally asked for his help with something small, a document, a recommendation for a bank, he obliged.

˚ ༘♡ she had come to cherish these rare meetings, stolen moments between his grueling hours at joy investments. he was over two decades her senior, an esteemed businessman with tired eyes and a clever mind, and though she should have found his reserved nature impenetrable, she didn’t. instead, she found herself drawn to the quiet spaces between his words, the way he carried the sentiments of something unspoken.

˚ ༘♡ and now, as she hesitated outside the café, watching the rise and fall of his cigarette, she wondered if he ever thought about these moments the way she did. questioned if, merely for a second, she was something more than an afterthought in his carefully constructed and affluent life.

˚ ༘♡ though, that was dangerous thinking, sang-woo could never harbor affections for a woman such as herself. their cultures clashed, their socioeconomic statuses were lightyears apart, and they were from two entirely separate worlds. she was a young woman trying to carve out a future in an unfamiliar country, he was a man whose life had already been written in ink, burdened by choices he had made long before she ever stepped foot in seoul.

˚ ༘♡ seong-ah cast aside the thought and stepped forward, closing the little distance between them. as she approached, sang-woo glanced at her, his expression unreadable. his eyes, discerning, glistened with something she couldn’t quite place, acknowledgment, maybe even a trace of fondness, but gone before she could be certain.

˚ ༘♡ she offered a polite nod and a smile. “hello,” she said, her voice serene despite the pang in her chest. “how has your day been?”

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo exhaled a final curl of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette against the metal trash can, his fingers deft and practiced. a raspy cough escaped his throat, a consequence of the habit he refused to break. “i’m sorry, seong-ah,” he said, his voice low and hoarse, “i know you don’t like me smoking.”

˚ ༘♡ her smile widened just a little, though there was an exasperated fondness behind it. “i know no matter how much i bother you about it, you won’t quit.” she crossed her arms loosely over her chest, tilting her head. “you always say you will, next month or after this deal, or when work settles down, but that never happens, does it?”

˚ ༘♡ a small, nearly imperceptible grin ghosted across his lips, but it never fully formed. “maybe someday,” he said, the words too vague to be a promise.

˚ ༘♡ she sighed, shaking her head, but there was no real bite to her frustration. the reason for her constant nagging was that she was anxious about his health.

˚ ༘♡ “it’s cold out here,” sang-woo said, shifting the conversation with the ease of a man who had spent his life avoiding difficult topics. “why don’t we head inside? i’ll get us some coffee.”

˚ ༘♡ seong-ah nodded, following him into the café. a warm gust of air greeted them as they stepped inside, a stark contrast to the crisp chill of the street. the place was small but charming, its wooden furniture well-worn from years of quiet conversations and late-night study sessions. the scent of fresh coffee beans and vanilla lingered in the air, wrapping around her and bringing about a comforting sensation.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo approached the counter, and without asking, ordered for both of them. he remembered her usual order so effortlessly, a vanilla latte for her, and a black coffee for himself.

˚ ༘♡ they found a seat near the window, where the city stretched out before them in a blur of headlights and moving figures. seong-ah curved her hands around the warm cup, the heat seeping into her fingers. she watched as sang-woo took a sip of his coffee, his expression softening, as if the bitterness grounded him.

˚ ༘♡ as they spoke, their conversation meandered through the usual topics, his work managing stocks and handling high-stakes investments, her far more unremarkable job as a waitress in a modest restaurant. seong-ah often felt the depth of their differences in conversations such as this one. his life revolved around numbers, strategies, and multimillion-dollar transactions, while hers was dictated by the mandates of a crowded dining hall, balancing plates and forcing smiles for tips.

˚ ༘♡ but as she listened, she found her attention drifting away from his words and landing instead on a deep purple bruise shadowing his cheekbone. it wasn’t the kind of wound one got from a simple accident, it was far too grim with how dark and swollen it was.

˚ ༘♡ her brows furrowed together, concern creeping into her voice. “sang-woo, what happened?” she asked, her gaze searching his. “your face…”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t flinch, but she saw the way his jaw tensed, the way his fingers curled slightly around his coffee cup.

˚ ༘♡ “it’s nothing,” he said smoothly, waving a dismissive hand. “i walked into something while getting ready for work this morning. i must have been exhausted and not particularly mindful of my surroundings.”

˚ ༘♡ it was a flimsy excuse. sang-woo was many things, cunning, calculated, always in control. but careless? no. she knew better than to believe that. yet she also knew him well enough to understand that pressing the issue would get her nowhere. he wouldn’t talk if he didn’t want to. so, she let it go. for now.

˚ ༘♡ he must have sensed her lingering worry because he quickly changed the subject. “how’s your cousin?” he asked suddenly, his voice shifting to a tone of casual indifference. “is she still sick, or has she recovered?”

˚ ༘♡ her cousin. albina ruslov. the name alone brought a complicated mix of emotions. albina had been more like a sister than a cousin, but their lives had diverged in ways neither of them could have predicted. raised in privilege, albina had married a russian oligarch at only eighteen and now spent her days flitting between luxury boutiques and extravagant luncheons, draped in silk and diamonds. where seong-ah had struggled to carve out a place for herself, albina had waltzed through life with the ease of someone who had never known hardship. and yet, despite her gilded existence, albina was prone to bouts of melancholy, as fragile as the porcelain tea sets she collected.

˚ ༘♡ “she’s fine now,” seong-ah replied, taking a sip from her sweetened coffee. “actually, i should call her, she’s probably waking up soon, and if i don’t catch her now, she’ll be off running errands all day.”

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo sighed, rubbing his temple. for a vanishing instant, he looked as though he wanted to say something, something important, but then he shook his head, exhaling heavily. “ah, never mind. go ahead. family is important.” his voice dropped slightly, quieter. “i’ll see you another time, seong-ah.”

˚ ༘♡ guilt tugged at her. she hated leaving so unexpectedly, especially when something about him, his bruised face, the weariness in his eyes, felt off. still, she pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. before she could say goodbye, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. the warmth lingered, a tainted, tender touch.

˚ ༘♡ “i wanted to tell you in a less abrupt way,” he murmured, “but i have to go on a business trip for a few weeks.”

˚ ༘♡ her heart sank. “what?” she asked, sorrow edging into her voice. “to where?”

˚ ༘♡ he hesitated. just for a second. “japan,” he said finally. “but i’ll call you when i’m back, alright?” his fingers brushed against her face, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. his touch was careful, delicate, as if memorizing the feeling. “i’ll bring you back a souvenir. something pretty, like you.”

˚ ༘♡ her lips parted slightly, her expression confused. “please don’t try and flatter me to get me to stop asking questions,” she said calmly. “if you want to keep your business affairs private, that’s fine with me.” she searched his face, looking for something, an answer, a truth he wouldn’t speak aloud. but whatever it was, he kept it locked away. so instead, she simply said, “i hope you have a safe trip.”

˚ ༘♡ seong-ah turned to leave the café, but even as she stepped away, she felt the intensity of his burdensome gaze treading behind her.

⋆.˚🦢⋆࿐♡⋆.˚

˚ ༘♡ “there’s a phone call for you, dear,” rurik’s deep voice broke the quiet hum of the grand living area.

˚ ༘♡ albina turned away from the polished mirror where she had been admiring her reflection, tilting her head slightly as she caught sight of her husband lounging on the leather couch, a crystal glass of brandy resting in his hand. the golden liquid swirled gently as he leaned back, his expression indistinct.

˚ ༘♡ rurik ivankov was a man of immense wealth, power, and influence, a figure both respected and feared in russian oligarchic circles. much older than her, he carried the sharp, angular features of a man who had once been strikingly handsome in his youth. time had not been entirely unkind to him, his ashen hair and dark eyes still held a certain allure, but there was a coldness to him, a detachment that reminded her, constantly, that theirs was not a marriage of love.

˚ ༘♡ no, it had never been about love. it was about status, wealth, and the unspoken arrangement between them, she was his pretty, young wife, a prize to display at lavish gatherings, and in return, she was granted a life of unimaginable luxury. it had only been a few months since their wedding, but already she had settled into her role, spending as she pleased, wrapped in the finest furs, dripping in diamonds, wandering through life with the kind of ease most could only dream of.

˚ ༘♡ “it must be seong-ah!” albina exclaimed, momentarily breaking free from her reverie. the fur coat draped around her delicate shoulders slipped onto the plush persian carpet as she rushed across the room toward the telephone.

˚ ༘♡ “hurry up, would you?” rurik’s tone was cool, measured, impatient but not unkind. he never raised his voice, never resorted to unnecessary cruelty, but there was always an underlying expectation in his words, an unspoken command. “we have to leave for south korea before nightfall if we want to arrive on time.”

˚ ༘♡ she rolled her eyes, though he wasn’t looking at her, and gestured disdainfully before lifting the phone to her ear.

˚ ༘♡ “anvara…” albina caught herself too late. she had spoken the name she had known seong-ah by since childhood, the name her cousin had abandoned when she left russia for a nation miles away from home. but she brushed past the slip of the tongue, continuing as though nothing had happened.

˚ ༘♡ “seong-ah, how’s seoul?” she asked brightly, her voice effortlessly mirthful, though a trained ear might detect the underlying boredom beneath it. “russia is as dull and miserable as ever. i’ve been thinking of going to western europe again, perhaps paris this time. or milan. perhaps monaco?”

˚ ༘♡ there was a pause on the other end. then, a hushed, tired voice. “seoul is lovely,” seong-ah responded, though there was no warmth in her words. if anything, she sounded exhausted. drained. “i’ve been more focused on school and work.”

˚ ༘♡ albina frowned, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist as she leaned against the grand mahogany desk. there was something off about her cousin’s voice. she had always been good at reading seong-ah, even when they were little children.

˚ ༘♡ “you sound upset,” albina noted, narrowing her eyes as she twirled her dark curls idly between her manicured fingers.

˚ ༘♡ on the other end of the line, there was a pause, long enough for her to hear the faint hum of seoul’s city life bleeding into the receiver. distant traffic, muffled voices speaking a language that was still slightly foreign to her ears. even through the crackling static of the phone, she could sense something heavy in seong-ah’s silence.

˚ ༘♡ “it’s nothing,” seong-ah finally said, but albina understood her too well to believe such a blatant denial.

˚ ༘♡ her rosy lips curled into a small frown, unimpressed. “don’t lie to me,” she pressed, her voice taunting. “is it that businessman of yours? cho sang-woo?”

˚ ༘♡ there was no immediate response, and albina grinned knowingly. she had struck the right nerve.

˚ ༘♡ she had only met sang-woo once before, during her last visit to seoul a few months ago. the memory played out in her mind, cordial and refined, akin to a scene from a motion picture.

˚ ༘♡ albina slipped her black fur coat from her shoulders, draping it across a chair as she carefully set her leather suitcases against the wall. her light brown eyes immediately caught sight of the older korean man standing quietly in the living room. she raised an eyebrow and murmured in russian, “oh, i’ve come at a bad time?”

˚ ༘♡ seong-ah turned, her expression calm but with a hint of unease. “no, nina,” she replied in a measured tone, “he’s just a good friend. nothing more.”

˚ ༘♡ albina’s gaze narrowed slightly, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “you should be more cautious about letting these kinds of men into your apartment,” she said coolly, her voice laced with suspicion. “i hear they can be quite salacious people, not the kind of men you want to get involved with.”

˚ ༘♡ seong-ah stiffened, biting her lip nervously before speaking in a low voice. “albina,” she warned, her tone wary yet gentle, “he understands russian.”

˚ ༘♡ albina’s cheeks flushed faintly as an awkward laugh escaped her. she avoided the man’s dark, unreadable eyes, brushing a lock of hair from her face in a practiced gesture of composure. “how rude of me,” she said, her korean accented. “please, forgive me. i’m albina ruslov.”

˚ ༘♡ the man, cho sang-woo, appeared entirely unfazed by her earlier remarks. his expression remained calm, even courteous, as he gave a small nod of acknowledgment. “i’m cho sang-woo,” he said, his voice steady and deep. “it’s a pleasure to meet you. seong-ah has told me all about you.”

˚ ༘♡ not her proudest interaction, certainly. but in truth, sang-woo had left an impression on her, though not for the reasons seong-ah likely hoped. he was different from the men she was used to. he had a demeanor of silent calculation, a man who had learned how to exist in the world by keeping parts of himself hidden away. not quite cold, but distant.

˚ ༘♡ and yet, despite all his restraint, albina had caught the way sang-woo looked at her cousin when he thought no one was watching, eyes obscured with a carnal desire that could not be put into words.

˚ ༘♡ “albina, it’s not like that,” seong-ah said at last, her voice weary. “he’s just a friend.”

˚ ༘♡ albina let out an incredulous laugh. “please. you are head over heels for that man, absolutely enamored with him. i personally don’t get it. i could find you at least ten better, more handsome, and far richer marriage prospects here in russia.”

˚ ༘♡ “you’re so worried about money and status,” seong-ah teased lightly, though there was a faint edge to her voice, “it’s a shame you didn’t become an economist.”

˚ ༘♡ albina sighed dramatically. “if only i could do arithmetic. but you don’t need to know that nonsense if you’re married to a wealthy man.” she simpered. “regardless, i am right, am i not? you’re upset because of sang-woo?”

˚ ༘♡ there was a short while of silence, and then, barely above a whisper, seong-ah admitted, “he’s leaving for a business trip. it’s not that he owes me anything, but…”

˚ ༘♡ but. that single word carried so much significance. so much longing.

˚ ༘♡ before she could respond, a voice interrupted from across the vast living room.

˚ ༘♡ “nina! what’s taking you so long?”

˚ ༘♡ rurik’s voice was authoritative, a command, carrying from the grand staircase where he stood. albina turned her head, watching as her husband descended the steps, his soulless eyes sliciing through the dim glow of the chandelier above. he was already dressed for travel, tailored coat, leather gloves in hand, his expression one of mild impatience.

˚ ༘♡ albina rolled her eyes and exhaled in annoyance. she pressed the phone closer to her ear. “hey, i have to leave,” she murmured. “but i’ll text you, and you need to tell me everything, okay?”

˚ ༘♡ “of course. are you going somewhere?”

˚ ༘♡ “mm.” albina hesitated for the briefest moment before curating an effortless lie. “we’re just going to moscow. rurik has some business stuff to deal with. i don’t know, I only care about seeing what the stores have in regards to jewelry and designer heels.”

˚ ༘♡ “your husband sounds stressed.”

˚ ༘♡ “rurik always is.”

˚ ༘♡ seong-ah sighed on the other end. “well, i’ll leave you be then. goodbye.” the line clicked, going silent.

˚ ༘♡ albina stood still for a minute, gripping the phone as she stared at the floor, as if deep in thought. but in reality, there was nothing to think about.

˚ ༘♡ seong-ah would never know the truth. she could never explain what rurik’s business dealings truly entailed, or the kind of cruel people he worked with, men who operated in the shadows, orchestrating games where human lives were nothing more than wagers in a grand massacre of violence.

˚ ༘♡ this year, rurik had told her, they would be attending the games in south korea.

˚ ༘♡ his trusted friend, hwang in-ho, the front man of the infamous squid game, had personally extended an invitation. a private gathering for the privileged few who understood the art of blood and power.

˚ ༘♡ and so they would go.

˚ ༘♡ and they would watch.

˚ ༘♡ and they would revel in the brutal spectacle.

˚ ༘♡ a strange hollowness etched itself deep in her chest, but albina ignored it. she had learned long ago that it was best not to feel too deeply about things beyond her control.

˚ ༘♡ from the luxurious foyer, rurik cleared his throat. “are you ready to leave?”

˚ ༘♡ she turned, flashing him a beautiful and compliant smile that was as polished as it was practiced.

˚ ༘♡ “i’m coming,” albina said.

a/n: i am so excited to write this fanfiction as i have planned the entire story until the end of season two as i am waiting for season three to decide the ending! please let me know your thoughts!! 🤍

[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.

[redvdress]

MORE UA HAWKS FOR THE SOUL

PERSISTENT GUY(part 𝐈?)

A/N i’m soo glad you liked ua hawks, so here’s the prequel of persistent guy, and how he (spoiler) didn’t give up on you! i imagined the reader with a shadow quirk and reading you’ll understand why, if that doesn’t match your likes, let’s picture he calls you ‘shadow queen’ because of your introverted and grumpy nature. requests are open so feel free to ask for different reader. part 𝐈𝐈𝐈’s outtt!

The late afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky, casting long shadows across the U.A. High School’s combat training grounds.

You were trying your best to blend into the background, as you often did, your eyes darting around as you assessed the situation.

Hawks, or Takami Keigo as the teachers insisted on calling him, was not doing the same. In fact, Hawks was very much in his element, chatting away with other students, giving them pointers, and flashing that signature grin of his to anyone within eyesight. He had been a rising star in the class since day one, not just for his quirk, but for his energy, confidence, and natural charisma.

But today, his attention was particularly focused on one person—you.

Each student was supposed to demonstrate their quirk against a randomly assigned opponent. You had hoped to go unnoticed, but the fates were not so kind. The teacher’s voice cut through the murmur of the class.

“Alright, yln, you’re up. You’re going against…” He glanced at his clipboard, pausing for dramatic effect. “…Takami Keigo.”

Your eyes flicked up at the mention of Hawks’ name. Of course. It just had to be him.

Across the grounds, Hawks’ expression lit up like it was Christmas morning. He’d been itching to get closer to you for weeks now, and this was a perfect opportunity.

“Guess it’s my lucky day, huh, yln?” he called over to you, already starting to walk towards the center of the training field. His voice was light and teasing, as always, but with a note of genuine excitement behind it. “Finally get to see what the legendary Shadow Queen can do up close.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, your annoyance growing. “Don’t call me that,” you muttered under your breath, though you doubted he even heard you.

The other students, curious about the match-up, began to murmur amongst themselves.

“Whoa, yn and Takami? That’s going to be crazy.”

“Hawks is so fast—can she even keep up with him?”

“I’ve seen yln fight before. Her quirk’s no joke.”

“Still… Takami can fly. What’s she going to do about that?”

As the two students faced off, you stood in your usual stance—arms crossed, your eyes sharp and calculating. You weren’t one to show off, preferring to let your quirk do the work. But Hawks… Hawks was all about the spectacle.

“You ready for this, yln?” Hawks asked, stretching out his arms and flaring his wings wide, letting the wind catch them. “Don’t hold back on me. I wanna see what you’ve got.”

Your eyes narrowed. You weren’t one for flashy entrances or playful banter. Your quirk was as much about subtlety as it was power, and you had no intention of giving Hawks the satisfaction of playing into his game.

“I’m not interested in putting on a show for you,” you said bluntly.

“Show?” Hawks chuckled, giving you a playful wink. “Come on, you know you’ve got style. Let’s have some fun with it!”

Before you could respond, the teacher blew the whistle, signaling the start of the match.

Hawks didn’t waste a second. In the blink of an eye, he shot into the air, his wings carrying him high above the field. From above, he could see everything—every shadow, every movement. It was one of the reasons he was such a formidable opponent in combat.

You, on the other hand, didn’t move from your spot. Instead, your body began to melt into the shadow beneath your feet, disappearing entirely into the darkness.

You could feel the cold embrace of the shadows as they carried you across the field, reemerging in a nearby shadow cast by a large tree.

“Oh-ho!” Hawks called from above, already spotting her movement. “You’re gonna have to be quicker than that if you wanna hide from me!”

With a powerful flap of his wings, he shot downward, aiming to close the distance between them in seconds. But you weren’t planning on letting him get that close. With a sharp movement of your hand, the shadows around you rippled and expanded, creating a wall of darkness that rose to meet Hawks mid-air.

He swerved at the last second, narrowly avoiding the wall of shadows with an agile twist of his body. He laughed, exhilarated by the near miss. “Nice! I wasn’t expecting that!”

You stayed silent, your focus entirely on the match. You weren’t here to play games. Your shadows coiled around you like living serpents, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

Hawks, still flying just above the field, seemed unphased. In fact, he was enjoying himself more than ever.

“Tell you what,” he called out, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “If I win this, you’ve gotta have lunch with me tomorrow.”

Your eyebrows shot up, your focus momentarily broken. “What?”

“You heard me! Lunch! It’ll be fun!” Hawks grinned, knowing full well how much his suggestion would irritate her. “And hey, if you win, I’ll… I don’t know, I’ll stop bugging you for a whole week.”

“Deal” you said coldly, already plotting your next move. You had no intention of losing.

A small crowd had gathered by now, watching the fight unfold. Some of the students were whispering to each other excitedly.

“Is he seriously asking her out during a match?”

“That’s so like Hawks. He never stops, does he?”

“He’s definitely gonna get her this time. I mean, who could say no to him?”

Among the crowd, a few of the female students looked particularly envious, casting jealous glances toward you.

“I don’t get it. Why’s Takami so obsessed with her? She’s so… distant.”

“Yeah, she’s always by herself. Doesn’t even talk to anyone.”

“Maybe that’s why. He likes a challenge.”

“I’d trade places with her in a second…”

The jealousy was palpable, but you were far too focused to care about the chatter around you.

Back in the training field, Hawks dove toward you again, his wings tucked close to his body for speed. But this time, you were ready. As he closed in, you extended your arm, and the shadows around you surged forward like a tidal wave, forcing Hawks to bank hard to avoid them.

But Kara wasn’t done. The moment he was airborne again, you vanished into the shadows beneath you, reappearing in a completely different part of the field. Your movements were like a ghost’s—unpredictable, silent, and impossible to pin down.

“You’re slippery,” Hawks admitted, coming to a hover high above the field. “But you know what? So am I.”

With a quick flick of his wings, Hawks released several red feathers, each one glowing faintly as it shot downward. They spread out like a net, their tips sharp and precise, aimed to cut off youe escape routes.

But you seemed to be always a step ahead. As the feathers closed in, you dissolved into the shadows once again, dodging each one by reappearing elsewhere.

This back-and-forth continued for several minutes, with Hawks trying to pin you down and you deftly avoiding his every move. The other students watched in awe, impressed by the display of skill from both sides.

“Look at them go,” one of the students murmured. “It’s like they’re dancing.”

“Yeah, except if they mess up, someone’s getting hurt.”

Finally, Hawks decided to go all out. He shot into the sky, gaining as much altitude as possible before diving straight toward you at breakneck speed. His wings flared wide, the wind rushing past him as he descended like a missile.

But you, standing calmly in the shadow of a large building, didn’t flinch. You’d been waiting for this.

Just as Hawks was about to reach you, your shadows expanded outward, enveloping the entire area in a pitch-black dome. Inside, everything was darkness. No light, no sound—just an impenetrable void.

Hawks was momentarily blinded, his sense of direction thrown off. He flapped his wings, trying to regain control, but the shadows were everywhere.

“What the- yn!” he called out, his voice echoing through the darkness. “Alright, you win this round! Just let me out of here!”

A moment later, the shadows receded, revealing you standing in the exact same spot, your arms crossed and a slight smirk playing on your lips.

Hawks landed lightly on the ground in front of you, slightly breathless but still grinning. “Okay, okay. I admit defeat. You’re a tough one to catch, yln.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Man, you’re no fun sometimes.”

But there was no malice in his words, just that familiar playful tone. Hawks gave you a sideways look, his smile never faltering. “So, how about that lunch? I mean, you won, but we could still—”

“No,” You cut him off, already walking away. “I don’t do lunch.”

Hawks sighed dramatically, his wings drooping in mock disappointment as he watched you disappear into the shadows once again.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he muttered to himself, still smiling as he turned back to join the rest of the class.

As he did, the other students erupted in chatter once more, speculating about what would happen next between Hawks and you. But one thing was certain: Hawks wasn’t going to give up that easily.

[arosesstorm]

BTS as k-dramas 𖡄̽ݴ᭄ᭂ ⠀

jungkook: dream high

this drama got me into Korea in its all and into Kpop as well. it's so close to my heart I can't help but put it with my favorite Korean boy. the Kirin art school's students have a dream, and they grow up learning to become stars, ultimately succeeding, just like jungkook did.

jin: business proposal

the main character is exactly how I imagine jin in a relationship to be like. a stoic, successful, kinda naive man who warms up and becomes devoted as soon as he sets his eyes on someone. and the rest his history.

taehyung: nevertheless

i imagine taehyung loving this drama. its complicated explanation on love reflects all the flaws of the human spirit and portraits love as chaos in a life full of art.

jimin: true beauty

jimin's just like Lee Soo Ho would like someone regardless of his flaws. I always imagines jimin as a kind and careful soul who cares about people's feelings and emphatazies with them. I imagine jimin to like light, fun and cute dramas and this is it.

namjoon: what's wrong with secretary Kim?

namjoon gives me the impression of being a controlled and calm person, but just like young-joon he loses his composure when he likes someone and gets tested by a potential lover. I feel like he'd be as funny as the main character when he finds a partner who challenges him and, frequently, beats him at his own game.

yoongi: descendants of the sun

if I ever imagine yoongi liking someone, I imagine him playing it cool. no drama, no embarassment, simply a cool strong man who admits he fell in love. in descendants of the sun life gets in the way of love one too many time and I imagine for yoongi too life sometimes is pretty heavy to carry around without getting crushed.

hosoek: strong woman do bong soon

I thought hoseok belonged in an historical drama, but I see him as well as the ceo of a company who meets a strange girl who ends up being his bodyguard and lover. he's as funny as MinMin and he gives me Labrador boyfriend vibes.

Mia

© 2023 of Mia (arosesstorm). All Rights Reserved.

[stormdragon23]

A scene I tend to overthink is this one

And Woo Jin-Chul isn't the person I think about here (although it's a very iconic moment of him)

The one I keep thinking about is Baek Yoon-Ho

This is a manhwa-only moment as far as I know (since the anime hasn't gotten here yet), but in theory, Hwang Dong-Soo should be stronger than Baek Yoon-Ho because his powers are likely being upgraded by Norma Selner

Woo Jin-Chul also says they held back at the last second (which is most likely said out of courtesy more than anything), but while Baek Yoon-Ho would have done that (especially with his reflexes), Hwang Dong-Soo doesn't really have a reason to (it's not exactly in his character)

However, the arm that shakes and that Woo Jin-Chul checks isn't the one that stopped Hwang Dong-Soo. It's the one that stops Baek Yoon-Ho

There are a lot of different factors here, like Hwang Dong-Soo using his fist unlike Baek Yoon-Ho, how serious both of them are taking the fight, and how strong Baek Yoon-Ho is at this stage of his transformation, but just based on this scene, I like to imagine Baek Yoon-Ho is stronger than Hwang Dong-Soo (if Baek Yoon-Ho really went all out, but I think that's unlikely given his personality)

Anyway, this is just me brain-rotting