#happy death day icons | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaira-diaries · 2 months ago

Text

Backstabber:

⚠️: Smut || Violence || death || description of blood || life threatening illness

wc: 15k …

pairing: fem!reader x In-ho

a/n: so the length is…something. This loosely follows the games of season two. LOOSELY !!

I hope you all enjoy, happy reading!!

summary: A young woman finds herself desperate when her family falls into crushing medical debt. Seeking a way out, she enters the deadly Squid Games. Unbeknownst to her, the enigmatic Frontman—her boyfriend of three years, disguising himself as Player 001 and in deep debt, enters the game to protect her, navigating the brutal competition while concealing his true identity from her.

-> Masterlist <-

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

Aware of every breath and movement, you were pinned down as In-ho finally peeled away your warm sweater, a contrast to the frigid temperature in his bedroom, completely naked before him and he before you.

However all you could feel was his soft lips against your chest, leaving you breathless as he pushed in and out of you with blinding pleasure and strength. His kisses were anything but gentle as you locked your legs around his muscled back, pulling him closer, and he groaned in delight at such a position, dragging his perfect teeth up your neck and eventually reconnecting with your mouth.

You'd been holding onto the weight of a conversation you needed to have with him, the one about your father's medical illness and the mounting medical debt that was dragging your parents under like a relentless tide. You've kept it from him for a while. Was it out of shame? You didn't quite know, but it didn't seem like the kind of conversation to strike up while his tongue worked between your legs, making a mess on the edge of the dining room table. He was on you the moment you got home and after the long day you had, you needed it.

Freeing him from your grip, you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, aching for control, something you've had to fight for with him the moment you began seeing each other. A look of disapproval shined in his eyes, but you pressed your palms against his warm chest, earning a scowl of impatience. You innocently smile, beginning to rock your hips. He held you, his grip like iron, as he watched you use him to reach your peak. With your head thrown back, his hands explored every inch of your chest; squeezing and grabbing at everything he possibly could. His grip on you was as tight as he could make it without hurting you, something he worries so much about.

Mumbling sweet praises up at you, you whined, picking up the pace.

"Fuck you're so beautiful riding my cock." He praised, almost making you shatter, and you would have right then and there until your phone began to buzz on the wooden nightstand next to his head. Your movements came to a sudden stop, making In-ho groan, "ignore it," he pleaded, but it was your mother's icon.

With the weight of your father's illness in mind, you pulled off him.

"It'll just take a second." You promised, answering the phone, trying to ignore the slow touch of In-ho's hand caressing your back and his lips sucking the skin of your neck. You slapped him.

"Hi, everything okay? it's late."

Your mother's panicked voice crackled through the phone, her voice trembling with raw fear. "Y/n, you need to come to the hospital now. I-I don't-"

"Ma, I'll be there," you interrupted, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Just stay calm." You hung up without waiting for more, already throwing the blanket aside as you scrambled out of bed.

"What’s going on? What's wrong?" In-ho's voice cut through the chaos, his concern evident as he sat up, his brows furrowed.

Your mind raced, and the first excuse that came to you spilled out in a rush. "Something's wrong with the cat." You blurted, the lie feeling ridiculous even as you said it. Your shaky hands pulled on a sweater, jeans, and some boots, the urgency in your movements selling the story better than the words ever could.

"What? the fucking cat? What happened?" In-ho looked confused but didn't question further as you fumbled to explain. "Their car's in the shop, and they can't get to the emergency vet. I have to go."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the sheets pooling around his waist. "I'll take you."

"No!" you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. The tension in the room palpable as his eyes searched your face for an explanation.

One thing about In-ho: he never questioned you, and right now, you were grateful for that. "Okay." He said. "Just be careful."

You nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to say more. Grabbing your keys and bag, you bolted for the door, your thoughts racing faster than your feet. The hallway felt suffocating as you sprinted to your car, your breath coming in shallow bursts.

Sliding into the driver's seat, your hands trembled as you turned the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life but didn't drown out the panic in your mind. What could have happened? Was it worse than you feared?

The rain from earlier had left the streets slick, and your headlights reflected off the wet pavement as you sped toward the hospital. You tried to steady your breathing, gripping the wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. Every red light felt like a personal attack, each second dragging on like an eternity.

Finally, you pulled into the hospital parking lot, barely bothering to park straight as you threw the car into park and leaped out. The fluorescent lights of the emergency entrance cast an unnatural glow over the scene, and the antiseptic smell hit you as soon as you stepped inside.

Your eyes darted around the waiting room until they landed on your mother. She was sitting in one of the plastic chairs, her face pale, her hands squeezing a tissue.

"Mom!" you called out, rushing to her. She looked up, her eyes red and puffy, and the sight of her broke something inside.

"Y/n..." she began, her voice trembling as fresh tears spilled over. "Its your father. They-they said he's in critical condition. The doctors are with him now, but-" Her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth, unable to finish.

You crouched down in front of her, taking in her hands in yours. “Ma, I'm here. I'm here, okay? We'll get through through this." Your voice was firm, but your stomach churned with dread.

As you comforted her, a nurse approached, asking if you were your father's family. You stood up, your thudding in your chest. "Yes, I'm his daughter. What's going on?" The nurse hesitated, her expression grave. "The doctor would like to speak with you. Please follow me."

Your mother let out a soft sob as you squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I'll be right back, Ma," you whispered before following the nurse down the cold, sterile hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last as you approached the room where your father's fate would be revealed.

The nurse led you to a small consultation room, where a doctor in scrubs was waiting, his face lined with exhaustion. He stood as you entered, his expression grim but composed.

"It's good to meet you, I'm Dr. Patel," he said, gesturing for you to sit. You barely registered the gesture, standing frozen as your pulse thundered in your ears.

"What's wrong with my father?" you demanded, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep steady.

Dr. Patel exhaled softly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of what he was about to say. "Your father's condition has taken a critical turn. His heart is failing rapidly, and the medications we've been using to manage his symptoms are no longer enough. He's in cardiogenic shock."

You blinked, the words slow to register. "What does that mean? Can you fix it?"

The doctor's lips pressed into a thin line. "The only long-term solution is a heart transplant. Without it, I'm afraid he doesn't have much time—maybe days, a week at most."

The air seemed to vanish from the room. You shook your head, trying to process. "A transplant? How... how soon could he get one?"

Dr. Patel hesitated, his gaze softening. "It's complicated. He'll need to be placed on the transplant list, and even then, matching him with a donor can take time. There's also the matter of cost. Even with insurance, the out-of-pocket expenses can be significant."

Your stomach twisted into knots. "How significant?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Typically, upwards of $150,000 for surgery, post-op care, and medications," he replied gently.

Your heart sank. You felt like the floor had dropped out from under you. "I can't… we can't afford that. Even with insurance, we're already drowning in medical debt. How am I supposed to…" Your voice cracked, and tears spilled over despite your effort to hold them back.

Dr. Patel leaned forward, his voice kind but firm. "I know it's overwhelming, but there are programs and organizations that can help. I can connect you with our financial counselor to explore options. Right now, focus on being here for your father."

You nodded numbly, standing on unsteady legs. "Can I see him?"

"Of course. He's sedated, but you can sit with him."

The walk to your father's room felt surreal, the hospital corridors stretching endlessly. When you stepped inside, the sight of him hit you like a punch to the chest. He lay still, pale and fragile, tubes and monitors surrounding him. The steady beeping of the machines was the only sound in the room.

You moved to his bedside, taking his hand in yours. His skin was cold, and the weight of his hand in yours felt too light, too fragile.

"Hey, Dad," you said softly, your voice breaking. "It's me."

Your thumb traced over the back of his hand as you blinked away fresh tears. "They said you need a new heart," you whispered, choking on the words. "And I know you probably don't want me worrying about it, but I'm going to fix this. I swear I'll find the money, no matter what. I'll get you what you need."

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You just hang on, okay? Just hang on."

The room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, but your resolve solidified with every passing second. No matter how impossible it seemed, you would find a way to save him.

Whatever it took.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

Your hands were frigid, the cold from last night's visit at the hospital still clinging to you as you sat in the dimly lit coffee shop. The air smelled faintly of roasted coffee and winter rain, but none of it brought comfort. Across the small table, In-ho sat rigid, his shoulders drawn tight like a bowstring. His expression was a mask of unreadable calm, but his eyes—those lifeless, glassy eyes—made your stomach churn. There was no warmth in them, no spark of humanity like normal. Just emptiness. You swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to shiver under his gaze.

It happened every year around this time, right before his business trip. Yet somehow, it never got easier. That hollow, dead look in his eyes unsettled you more than you wanted to admit, leaving a weight on your chest like a stone sinking in water. He always returned, but the man who sat before you now was different—a stranger wearing the face of someone you loved.

Cupping your warm mug of coffee, you took a tentative sip, hoping the heat would chase away the chill that wasn't from the weather.

"How long will you be gone this time?" you asked, keeping your voice steady despite the unease bubbling under your skin.

"A week or so," he replied plainly, his tone deeper than usual and flat, devoid of emotion.

You nodded, forcing yourself not to press him further. He never shared much about these trips, and you'd learned to stop asking. But this—this lifeless version of him he always snaps into—terrified you in a way you could never quite explain.

He was scheduled to leave today after your coffee date, which explained the gel in his hair and the matching grey outfit he wore, fit for the cold weather. He looked good, but you adored his messy hair. You loved running your fingers through it during sex or washing it while in the shower. It was one of your favorite things about him, the second being his age. You were always into older guys. Despite being 25, men your age still had some maturing to do, so you decided never to dabble with them altogether. Time was precious.

You traced the edge of your coffee cup with your finger, trying to fill the silence. It stretched thin between you, like a thread about to snap.

"She's been calling me a lot lately." you said, attempting to steer the conversation toward something lighter. "Mina, I mean. She's gotten into some trouble again."

In-ho's gaze shifted slightly, though his expression remained impassive. "Drinking?"

"And gambling, she's been asking for money," you added with a faint, humorless chuckle.

"Apparently, she lost a month’s rent at that underground poker game she swore she'd never go back to."

His jaw tightened, just for a second quick. You almost missed it. "The one near the station, right? The one run by that man who drives the black sedan."

Your brow furrowed as you stared at him. "How did you know that?" In-ho's expression didn't waver. "You said she was into underground games," he replied, shrugging. "I've seen people like that around. They're dangerous."

The explanation was reasonable, and you opened your mouth to change the subject, but he checked his watch and stood.

"I should get going," he said, his voice flat.

You stood as well, the knot in your stomach tightening. "Be safe," you said softly.

He nodded, leaning in to press a cool, detached kiss to your lips. It was brief, almost mechanical, and it left you feeling colder than before, but it was the same around this time every year. "I'll see you when I get back," he said, his hand briefly brushing your arm before he turned to leave.

As you watched him walk out into the gray morning, your thoughts lingered on his odd familiarity with Mina's troubles. Something didn't add up, but the question lingered unspoken on your tongue, lost in the wake of his retreating figure.

The bitter dregs of your now-cold coffee lingered on your tongue as you forced down the last bites of a stale croissant, its once-flaky layers now reduced to a dense, chewy mass.

The contrast between this hurried breakfast and the elegant comfort of In-ho's apartment wasn't lost on you—each step toward the train platform felt like moving further from a dream back into your harsh reality.

The morning crowd jostled around you as you weaved between commuters, scanning for an empty seat while waiting. The number "150,000" pulsed in your mind like a neon sign, growing larger and more oppressive with each passing moment. It was a sum so vast it seemed almost abstract—like counting stars in the sky—yet the weight of its importance pressed down on your chest with very real pressure.

Finding an empty bench away from the crowd, you hugged yourself tightly, your fingers digging into the fabric of your jacket. The fluorescent station lights cast shallow shadows under your eyes, and you barely recognized the exhausted person staring back.

Your father's time was running out like sand in an hourglass, and here you sat, drowning in the knowledge that your family's existing debts were already a noose around your neck. Each potential solution you considered crumbled before it could fully form—loan sharks were out of the question, banks would laugh at your application, and friends... well, who among them could even spare a fraction of such an amount? Mina sure as hell couldn't.

It's then a well-groomed man sits beside you. His hair gelled back, similar to In-ho's. You felt his gaze on you, but you tried to ignore it until it became extremely uncomfortable.

Snapping your chin in his direction, you broke.

"What?"

"Hello ma'am, can I talk to you?"

You sighed as he continued.

"Listen, I want to let you in on a great opportunity." You stared down at your hands, not saying a word, when he opened a suitcase beside you.

Looking down at it, you find the game Ddakji next to three stacks of neatly piled money. You perked up a bit at that. The money wasn't enough to pay for the transplant, but it was a cushioned start.

"I'm sure you've played Ddakji before, right?" You nodded.

In-ho appreciated the game.

He held up the two squares, one red and one blue. "Play a few rounds with me. And each time you win, I'll pay you a 1,000. Each time I win you, you pay me the same amount." You bit your lip, feeling how stupid this was. In-ho would tell you to turn and walk away, and you wondered if this man was from that underground poker place Mina indulged in. But, stupid or not, you needed that money for your father.

Exhaling sharply, you agreed but warned the man.

"I don't have any money to spare." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't true either. You had a decent income, but all of your money either went to paying off your parent's medical debt or to your father's treatments when you were able to pay out of pocket.

He held that same creepy grin, "How about you use your body to pay." You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as the words hit you like a slap. What did that entail? A chill ran down your spine, the blood draining from your face as you felt your breath catch in your throat. For a moment, you felt yourself sliding toward the edge of the bench, your limbs numb with terror.

The man, noticing your reaction, quickly shook his hands. "Not like that, no. I'll take 100 off per each slap to the face."

If a slap was the price to pay for losing, then you would endure it. For your father. You clenched your fists tightly, the memory of his quiet suffering and his desperate need for help fueling the burning determination inside you. You would do anything to protect him, even if it meant bearing humiliation, pain, or worse.

Anything.

You stood from the bench with a sense of purpose, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The salesman rose with you, his smile still wide, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor—something darker, more guarded—as you reached for your red ddakji. Without hesitation, you slammed it down onto the floor, the force of your movement sending it crashing against his, the paper flipping with a satisfying snap. You didn't just win; you dominated, the sound echoing in the still air.

A small wad of cash landed in your palm, the crisp bills a reminder of the stakes, the desperation that had brought you here. Your pulse quickened, the fear dissipating with each flip of the ddakji, each round stacking your winnings higher. The salesman's smile faltered, but you didn't care. You were in control now. The game was simple, but the stakes—your father's fate were anything but.

Round after round, you flipped his every time, effortlessly outplaying him, earning more money than you'd ever imagined in such a short span. The cash piled up between you like a small mountain, but you didn't stop. You couldn't stop. Each win felt like a victory but also like a countdown to something darker, something you weren't sure you were ready for.

Finally, you sat back down, your breathing steady as you finished the game. The salesman handed you a card, its front emblazoned with three distinct shapes, each one sharp and clean, almost menacing. You flipped it over, the number on the back staring up at you—simple, unremarkable, but somehow heavy.

"There are other games like this," he said, his voice dropping slightly as if the offer itself was something that shouldn't be spoken too loudly. "Where you can earn even more."

His gaze held yours for a beat too long. The words lingered, tempting and ominous in their simplicity.

"We don't have many spots left." He added, a subtle edge creeping into his voice as he picked up his briefcase, the leather creaking under his grip. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with the card, the money, and the quiet hum of uncertainty settling in your chest.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

POV: In-Ho

You sat at your desk, the glass of imported whiskey sloshing as you threw back the fifth pour, barely noticing as the amber liquid burned down your throat. The decanter was nearing empty, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. The quiet hum of the room was the only sound, and it settled you in a way nothing else could. Leaving y/n had always been difficult, but that was part of the game, wasn't it? Every year, it was the same—her muted resistance to your sudden change in demeanor, but every year, you also found yourself relieved to return to control, to snap back into that power you craved at your fingertips, to something that mattered all the same. Here, you were just mechanical; any genuine feeling of devotion dwindled until you returned home to her.

You leaned back in your chair, the leather creaking under your weight. The time you spent with y/n—it was never enough. And the more you tried to balance it with the games, the more you realized how impossible it truly was.

It was easy to pawn off the useless responsibilities to an underling, to let someone else handle the messes or orders that were beneath you. You had never cared about choosing the players. It was a waste of time. They were all the same to you: pathetic, greedy souls who saw the world through a selfish lens of self-interest.

Getting a phone call, you grabbed the receiver.

"This is The Frontman speaking. Yes, we are ready to begin."

You set the receiver back down, the soft click of the phone's cradle cutting through the heavy silence of the room. Without a second glance, you reached for the mask resting on the edge of the desk, its cool surface like a familiar presence. Your fingers brushed against the contours, feeling its weight and its unspoken authority. With deliberate ease, you secured it in place, the cold, smooth material pressing against your skin as your identity vanished beneath its form and lifted your hood.

You stood and moved toward the door, your footsteps controlled and purposeful. The air seemed to thicken around you as you passed through the threshold, a shift in atmosphere marking the change. The elevator was waiting—silent, steel, and patient. With a practiced motion, you pressed the central control room button, the elevator's quiet hum responding to your command. The walls around you seemed to close in as you descended. You were going to the heart of it all now, where the control pulse beat steady and unyielding. And there, you would resume your place.

The elevator doors slid open with a quiet, effortless motion, revealing the sterile, dimly lit expanse of the control room. Your men, standing at attention, parted like the Red Sea, clearing your path. They were all towering figures, silhouettes in the shadiness of the room, their presence unwavering and mute. As you stepped out onto the cold, polished floor, you felt the shift—the room realigning as though the game had officially begun.

You glanced at each man in turn, your eyes sharp, and you calculated behind the mask, assessing every one of them with practiced ease. They stood frozen, their posture rigid, hands at their sides, waiting for your next command. You could almost feel the anticipation in the air, stout and expectant.

"Let's start," you said, your voice cold, clipped and filtered. The words carved through the silence. Without hesitation, the men moved to their stations, their bodies sliding into their chairs with precise, mechanical ease. There was no wasted motion, no hesitation.

"Wake them up."

The room came alive, the screens flickering to life one by one. The quiet hum of machinery filled the air, a low, steady rhythm as the monitors illuminated, casting a cold glow on the walls. The lights in the player's quarters were activated, brightening the room as a spokesperson illustrated it was time to wake up.

You stalked closer to the screens, trying to get a sense of the new herd. Your gaze exhausts each face as they adjust, blinking groggily, some still lost in the fog of sleep. You monitored the strongest as they rose quicker, as the weakest fought off the remaining effects of the sedative.

Abruptly, it felt like the air had been punched out of your lungs, your heart plummeting into the pit of your stomach with a force that left you momentarily paralyzed. Your gaze locked onto the screen, catching something—someone—that sent a chill racing down your spine. At first, you thought it couldn't be real, that your mind was playing cruel tricks on you. But the unease clawed at you, refusing to be dismissed.

"Focus in on player 150," you ordered sharply, your voice slicing through the tense silence in the room.

The screen obeyed, zooming in on the figure until every detail came into agonizing clarity. And then you saw her.

Your breath hitched. Her messy bedhead—the kind you used to tease her about—was unmistakable. She stretched her arms above her head, a familiar routine you'd witnessed countless mornings. Her flawless lips, her face, her eyes. Every inch of her was burned into your memory, and now, there she was.

Standing in the middle of your slaughterhouse.

The woman you've bared your soul to.

"Y/n," you whispered, your voice barely audible, strangled with disbelief and fear. Panic gnawed at your insides, twisting and tightening until it felt like your very core would shatter.

How had she ended up here?

What is she keeping from you?

Of all the people, of all the possibilities—why her?

___________________________

POV: Y/N

The first thing you noticed as you stirred was the faint hum of distant sounds. Your sense of hearing returned before anything else, pulling you from the haze of sleep. You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes as the world around you came into focus.

Fragments of memory surfaced, disjointed but vivid—the musty smell of the van, the creak of its rusted doors, the tattered upholstery that looked like it had seen far too many years. You had hesitated, your hand hovering over the handle, your instincts screaming at you to turn around and walk away. The vehicle was a wreck, the kind of thing you'd imagine a junkie—no offense—might live out of.

But then you thought of your father. His face, his struggle, the weight of it all. That single thought was enough to override your doubts. You had climbed into the van despite every instinct telling you to do otherwise.

Sitting up, you took in your unfamiliar surroundings, momentarily distracted by the nagging awareness of your terrible bedhead. In-ho always teased you about it, though deep down, you suspected he secretly liked it.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the cot, you paused as your fingers brushed against the fabric of what you were wearing. A pajama-like tracksuit, simple yet strange. Your gaze dropped to your chest, where a number—150—was neatly sewn over your left breast.

You frowned, your brows knitting together. "What the hell?" you whispered under your breath.

Looking around, the murmur of movement drew your attention. Other people—strangers—were stirring, dressed in identical tracksuits with different numbers stitched onto their chests. They began to gather hesitantly in the center of the vast room, their expressions mirroring your confusion and unease.

The room itself was massive, stark, and cold, resembling a warehouse stripped of purpose. Above you, suspended ominously from the ceiling, hung an enormous glass piggy bank—empty but somehow radiating a strange sense of suspicion.

Your muscles ached, a dull soreness settling into your body as you stretched your arms overhead, trying to shake off the lingering stiffness, and stood to join the pack of people. The air was heavy, thick with tension and the quiet rustle of fabric as the other players moved cautiously, their faces tight with uncertainty.

As you loosened up, your eyes flicked back to the piggy bank, unease pooling in your stomach. Whatever was happening here, it was far from ordinary—and the number stitched onto your chest felt like it was branding you into something you didn't yet understand.

“Y/n!”

The sound of your name rang out, cutting through the murmurs around you. Your head snapped up, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces until your eyes locked onto someone you knew—a lifeline in the chaos.

"Oh my God, Y/n!"

It was Mina. Your Mina. Her face lit up with that unmistakable grin, even as the bold 067 stitched across her chest seemed wildly out of place. Relief flooded you, and without thinking, you bolted toward your best friend, your heart leaping in your chest.

"Mina!" you shouted, skidding to a stop just before throwing your arms around her neck. She caught you with a squeal, pulling you into a tight hug as you both burst into a flurry of half-laughs, half-cries.

"What the hell are you doing here, you bitch?" she blurted, pulling back just enough to hold your shoulders, her grin a mix of disbelief and sheer joy.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I could ask you the same thing!"

For a moment, the strangeness of the situation melted away. The towering walls, the eerie piggy bank above, the sea of strangers—all of it faded into the background. Because right now, in this surreal hell, you weren't alone.

Mina shrugged nonchalantly, her lips twitching into a crooked grin. "What can I say? It seems like my hobbies have gotten me into trouble again. Only this time..." She gestured vaguely to the massive, ominous piggy bank hanging above, her tone dripping with mock cheerfulness. "...the stakes are just a little higher."

Your brows furrowed, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. "Oh god, Mina. What did you do?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, biting her lip in that telltale way that meant she was about to drop a bombshell. "Well," she started, drawing out the word like she was recounting a funny anecdote, "I kind of... might've signed my physical rights away."

Your stomach flipped. "Excuse me?"

"Yup." She nodded, her voice light, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. "If I don't cough up what I owe by next month, I can kiss a kidney goodbye." She gave you a sly grin, trying to downplay the gravity of her words. "On the bright side, I've always wanted to know what it feels like to live with just one."

Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, your heart pounding in disbelief. "Mina...surely you're joking?"

She shook her head, the grin never entirely leaving her face. "Afraid not, babe. But hey, at least this mess has good storytelling potential, right?"

"Mina!" you exclaimed, punching her shoulder. She laughed, though it came out slightly strained. "What? It's not like I can do anything about it now. Besides, kidneys are overrated anyway."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Mina, could you please stop giving me reasons to worry?"

She gave you a sheepish grin, her shoulder bumping yours playfully. "I'll try, but no promises." Then, her expression shifted, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "What about you?" she asked, folding her arms. "Why are you here? And where's that delicious boyfriend of yours?"

Your cheeks warmed slightly, and before you could stop yourself, you swatted her arm, a soft snicker escaping. "He's on a business trip," you said, trying to sound casual. "Probably miles away from this place."

You turned your head toward her, but the knowing look in her eyes stopped you short. She tilted her chin, her gaze sharpening. "Uh-huh. But you didn't answer my other question."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the humor between you flickered, replaced by something heavier. Her gaze stayed steady, probing, as if she could see right through you.

A sharp, jarring buzz suddenly filled the air, slashing through the low murmurs in the room. You flinched at the sound, your heart skipping a beat as all heads turned toward the massive double doors at the far end of the room.

With a mechanical hiss, the doors slid open in perfect synchronization, revealing a line of figures that marched in with unnerving precision. They wore identical uniforms—a stark, unnatural shade of pink that contrasted sharply against the cold gray of the warehouse walls.

Their faces were entirely hidden behind black, featureless masks adorned with bold, white shapes: circles, triangles, and squares, just like the strange card you'd been handed by that man.

The sight sent a shiver racing down your spine. The guards moved with eerie coordination, their presence suffocating and cold, as if they were more machine than human. The room seemed to shrink under their gaze—or what you assumed was their gaze, though the masks gave away nothing.

"I'd like to extend my warmest welcome to you all."

"Everyone here will participate in six different games over the next six days. Those who win all six games will recieve a handsome cash prize." One of the guards stepped forward, his voice sharp and authoritative as it rang out, though it was muffled slightly by the mask. You strained to make out the words, but before you could process them, a man standing near the front of the group raised his voice, cutting through the tension.

"Why the hell should we trust you?" he shouted, his tone laced with anger and desperation. His words hit a chord, murmurs of agreement rippling through the players around you. It wasn't an unreasonable question—after all, you'd been drugged and dragged here against your will.

Your chest tightened as you remembered the van, the haze, the disorientation of waking up in this strange, sterile place. Beside you, Mina suddenly grabbed your hand, her fingers lacing tightly with yours. Her grip was firm, almost crushing, and when you glanced at her, her wide eyes told you she was just as terrified as you were.

The guard's reply came swift and clinical, delivered without an ounce of emotion. He mentioned something about a consent form, the words rolling off his tongue with practiced ease as though this wasn't the first time he'd said them. His tone made it clear there was no room for negotiation.

Your stomach churned as the players began to shuffle forward hesitantly, forming a disjointed line. Each person who stepped up was handed a pen and a sheet of paper, the details too far away to make out. The tension in the room was noticeable, every movement slow and deliberate, as if everyone knew they were crossing a threshold they could never return from.

When your turn came, you stepped forward on shaky legs, Mina's hand slipping from yours as she stayed rooted in place. You barely noticed her whispered "Y/n…" as you reached for the pen.

The words on the page blurred before your eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to read the fine print—it didn't matter. You already knew why you were here.

Your hand trembled slightly as you signed your name, the black ink cutting starkly against the crisp white paper. Whatever this was, whatever it demanded of you, your mind was made up. You'd get that money no matter what it took.

As you turned away, clutching the pen tightly, your heart felt like a drum pounding in your chest. Behind you, Mina's gaze burned into your back, her silence louder than any words she could've spoken.

As the last of the players signed their names, the guards gestured for everyone to move, their silent presence ushering the group out of the dorms and into a large, clean hall. The air was cool and clinical, the kind of atmosphere that sent a shiver up your spine despite the lack of overt threat.

One by one, each player stood in front of a sleek screen where their photo was taken. Mina, of course, couldn't resist making a ridiculous face, puffing out her cheeks and crossing her eyes as the camera clicked.

You doubled over, a genuine belly laugh escaping your lips, the sound echoing faintly in the vast hall. For a fleeting moment, it felt like old times, like the world wasn't crumbling around you.

As the line moved, you and Mina ended up side by side, trailing behind the group as you ascended a winding staircase. The metal stairs clanged beneath your feet, the sound rhythmic and oddly calming despite the tension in the air.

"So," Mina drawled, nudging your shoulder with hers, her grin mischievous. "Fill me in. How's it been going with In-ho?"

A warmth spread through you at the mention of his name, and you couldn't help the soft smile that tugged at your lips. "He's been… amazing," you admitted, your voice almost wistful.

Mina hummed knowingly, her grin widening. "I see. And the sex?" she asked, her tone teasing as her brows waggled suggestively.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Ugh, Mina, quit being gross. Let's focus on the game ahead."

She threw her hands up in mock surrender, snickering. "Alright, alright. I'll save it for later," she said, her tone light but her eyes scanning the room ahead, where more guards waited in eerie silence.

As the two of you continued up the staircase, her humor lingered like a comforting presence, a small anchor in the chaos. You couldn't help but feel grateful for her, even if she drove you nuts.

Turning the final corner, you stepped into a vast, open space that made you stop in your tracks. The ground beneath your feet was soft sand, its golden grains warm as they shifted with each step. Overhead, artificial sunlight bore down with an intensity that made you squint, the air thick with the illusion of a desert afternoon.

“Wow,” Mina muttered, her tone a mix of awe and unease. She kicked at the sand lightly, watching it scatter. “This is… interesting.”

You nodded, your eyes scanning the expanse of the room. It felt surreal—like stepping into another world completely removed from the cold, metallic dorms. The space stretched endlessly in all directions, its vastness unsettling.

As you wandered further in, something across the way caught your eye. Narrowing your gaze, you nudged Mina in the arm, breaking her attention away from the boy she had been half-flirting with beside her.

“What?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“What’s that?” you said, pointing toward a shape in the distance.

Her eyes followed your arm, squinting against the glaring light. When she finally spotted it, her expression twisted into a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. “It looks like…” she hesitated, leaning in slightly, “a creepy doll.”

Your stomach churned as you took in the eerie figure. Even from a distance, something about it felt wrong.

Before you could respond, a sharp, mechanical crackle echoed through the air, making you flinch. A smooth, automated female voice spoke over the intercom, its tone disturbingly cheerful.

“Welcome to the game room. For your first game, you will be playing Red Light, Green Light.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Red Light, Green Light?” you muttered, glancing at Mina with an incredulous smile. “You’ve got to be kidding. A children’s game?”

Mina shrugged, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “What? Would you rather play chess?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Definitely not.”

The voice on the intercom continued, reciting the rules with an unnerving precision that made the simplicity of the game feel sinister. “When the doll says, ‘Green Light,’ you may move forward. When the doll says, ‘Red Light,’ you must stop immediately. Any players caught moving during ‘Red Light’ will be eliminated.”

The word eliminated lingered in your mind, sending a cold chill down your spine.

When the announcement ended, a sudden, oppressive silence settled over the room. The guards lined the edges of the space, their presence a stark reminder that this was no ordinary game.

Mina reached for your hand, gripping it tightly. “We stick together, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, lacing your fingers with hers. Despite your nervousness, her touch grounded you, giving you a flicker of reassurance.

The two of you exchanged a nod, solidifying your pact, before turning your focus toward the looming doll in the distance. The game was about to begin, and there was no turning back now.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

POV: In-Ho

You could hardly bear to watch.

Your heart throbbed in your chest, a suffocating pressure building as your mind screamed with one agonizing question: What if she dies?

The thought hit you like a sucker punch, the weight of it crushing your ribs, stealing the air from your lungs. If she died—if she dies—you’d be left with nothing. Nothing but the hollow emptiness of a life that had lost its purpose, your balance between light and dark. There would be no going back. No reason to move forward. You'd be a shell, wandering through a world that suddenly felt unbearable.

The air in your quarters felt thick as if the very walls were closing in on you. You couldn’t stand still, couldn’t think clearly. You paced back and forth, each step fraying your nerves further. Your breath came in ragged gasps, shallow and fast, desperate for relief that never came.

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t—

The glass in your hand was warm, the drink inside it burning your throat with its bitter sting. And without thinking, you hurled it across the room, the sharp crash of glass against the wall.

For a split second, you stood frozen, staring at the mess. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Your chest tightened painfully, each breath harder to take than the last. You couldn’t control it anymore—the rage, the fear, the overwhelming helplessness. You wanted to roar and tear this facility to shreds, but it was all out of your hands now.

A player could only be removed from the game if they're eliminated.

The glass shards glittered on the floor like the pieces of your shattered resolve as you stared into it, and all you could do was stand there, trembling, fighting against the suffocating tide of emotions threatening to drown you.

"Green Light,"

Your eyes locked onto the screen, your gaze trained on her every move. You circled the couch, your steps restless, like you couldn’t stand still even if you wanted to. Every muscle in your body was tense beneath the grey jacket. Every fiber of your being was focused on her.

You could see Mina beside her, their hands tightly clasped together. It almost felt like an anchor, a momentary reassurance—but not enough.

Not nearly enough.

You silently begged Mina—pleaded with her—to hold it together. To not screw this up.

If Mina stuttered, if she moved a fraction too soon, if she hesitated for even a second—y/n would follow. And that thought made something tighten painfully in your chest.

You could feel your pulse roaring in your ears, a fierce rush of adrenaline as the seconds stretched on like hours. Your hand itched to pry her fingers away from Mina’s, to pull her closer, to shield her from the inescapable bloodbath.

"Red Light."

You exhaled sharply, your body going rigid as you watched her, your heart skipping a beat. Her number hadn’t been called, but the terror that played across her face as she witnessed the eliminations around her carved a hollow, painful hole in your chest.

She stood there, frozen, her eyes wide with raw fear as bodies dropped one by one, their lives snuffed out in an instant.

The sound of each shot rang out like a death knell, each one making her flinch, the horror of it all consuming her.

The games were necessary, but you never wanted y/n within a mile of them, and she didn't deserve a spot. She didn't deserve this.

You couldn’t bear it as guilt flooded your head, asking yourself how you could let this happen. How you could be so oblivious. How you could be so careless.

Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you rubbed your thumb over your lip, trying to steady your breath, but the panic was suffocating. She was scared, and you could see the paralyzing dread in her eyes as the remaining rounds went on.

Your torture had ended as she and Mina made it across safely, allowing your body to release tension.

Your mind raced, every thought swirling with desperation as you considered all the ways you could protect her. Every option seemed dangerous, every move a step closer to exposing yourself to her. Your fingers ran through your gelled hair, the tension in your shoulders mounting. You knew the truth—if she found out... It would destroy her.

And that was far worse than the lie you were living now.

Your gut clenched bitterly as the weight of the situation sank deeper into your chest. She’d never understand. She couldn’t. No matter how you tried to explain it, the truth would damage her. And you weren’t sure if either of you could survive the aftermath.

You sank into the loveseat, your eyes shifting to the mirror ahead of you. The reflection staring back was unrecognizable.

The image in the glass shattered every preconceived idea of who you were supposed to be in this place. The leader. The cold, calculating mastermind who pulled the strings from behind the scenes. The man who kept his emotions in check, who moved through the shadows without hesitation.

But now?

Now, you could feel the walls crumbling, the mask slipping off with each passing moment. The control you had so carefully cultivated was eroding, and it was because of her.

The realization hit you like a wrecking ball.

You were losing yourself to her—losing one of two things that had kept you alive this long. And the only reason you were willing to let it all slip was because of y/n. Because you didn’t want to watch her suffer, you didn’t want to see that terror in her eyes, knowing you're the cause.

A plan developed in your mind, sudden and dangerous. A twisted solution, but one that could save her.

You would have to enter the games.

For her.

And as the weight of that decision settled over you, you had an odd feeling that this was it.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

POV: Y/N

Your heart was in your throat, pounding so hard you thought it might burst.

Your legs gave out beneath you, trembling so violently that Mina had to grip your arm just to keep you upright. Her voice cracked as she shouted your name, her panic etching through the fog of your stunned silence. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe. You'd never seen someone die like that— so sudden, so violent. A clean shot, some might call it merciful. But there was nothing merciful about the way bodies crumpled to the ground, lifeless in an instant.

Now, back in the dorms, you leaned into Mina, your head heavy against her shoulder. Her breathing was ragged, her frame trembling beneath your touch, and for a moment, you felt like you were both about to shatter.

"So," Mina whispered, her voice raw and barely holding together. "If you lose the game….you die. The words hung in the air like a noose tightening around your neck. She tried to laugh, a sharp, bitter sound that made your stomach twist. "Quite the plot twist, huh?"

You jerked back, glaring at her through the blur of your tears. "Are you serious right now?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" She snapped, throwing up her hands. "We signed the damn contract, y/n. It's not like we didn't know there'd be consequences."

"Not like this," you muttered, your voice breaking as you clutched your knees.

Mina sighed, running a shaky hand through her hair. "What do you want me to say? Crying about it won't change anything. It won't bring those people back. It won't get us out of here."

Her words stung, sharp, and cruel, but you knew she was wrong. You bit down hard on your lip to keep from breaking apart completely. Crying wouldn't help. Begging wouldn't help. Whoever these people were, they weren't going to care about tears or fear. This wasn't just a game anymore—it was survival.

You sat silently next to Mina, absently picking at a loose thread on your shirt, your mind spinning in endless circles. The room felt suffocating.

Then you hear it—a voice you hadn't heard in what felt like forever.

"Y/n?"

The whisper of your name cut through the haze. Your head snapped up, and your heart dropped into your stomach. Standing in front of you was In-ho.

For a moment, you thought your eyes were playing cruel tricks on you. He looked exactly as you remembered—same disheveled hair, same piercing eyes. But his expression...it was off. Shock, disbelief, maybe even a glint of betrayal flickered across his face.

Your body moved before you could think. You pulled away from Mina, stumbling to your feet. Your legs felt weak, your breaths shallow, and every nerve in your body screamed that this couldn't be real.

"In-ho?" you choked out, your voice trembling.

Without a word, he closed the distance between you and wrapped his arms around you. The hug was tight, almost desperate, as though he needed to hold you as much as you needed to be held. His scent hit you like a jolt—so familiar, so grounding. It shattered the doubts swirling in your mind.

You froze, your arms hanging limply at your sides as the weight of his embrace pressed into you. Was this real? Could it be him? Tears blurred your vision as you returned the hug, clutching him like he might disappear if you let go. A broken sob tore from your throat.

But even as relief coursed through you, a shadow of doubt lingered, clawing at the edges of your mind. What was he doing here? Why now? And why did it feel like something was wrong?

Pulling back, In-ho's hands gripped your face tightly, his fingers trembling with barely contained fury. His eyes burned into yours, raw and piercing.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" he demanded, his voice low and rough.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. The tears you thought had subsided returned in full force, choking you. He guided you to sit, his movements sharp and forceful, like he was holding himself back from shaking you for answers.

You gulped for air, your chest heaving as you forced the words out. "My father… he's sick."

The admission felt small, fragile, and yet it hit him like a hammer. He exhaled sharply, the sound heavy with disbelief and frustration. His gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw clenching so tightly you thought he might snap.

Behind you, Mina shifted uncomfortably, her presence a tense reminder of the world around you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he finally said, his voice strained, the anger giving way to something else—hurt.

Before you could answer, he swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears with surprising tenderness. The contrast was jarring, his touch soft against the intensity of his gaze.

"I didn't want you to worry," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho scoffed, pulling back as he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "You didn't want me to worry?" he repeated bitterly. "Do you even realize—" He cut himself off, shaking his head.

But your own questions burned too hot to stay buried. You leaned forward, your voice trembling but steady enough to challenge him. "Why are you here, In-ho? Why did you lie to me?"

His head snapped up at your words, his expression hardening into something unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might not answer, that he'd leave you to drown in your doubts. The silence was deafening, the weight of everything unsaid threatening to crush you both.

"I'm here because I didn't have a choice, y/n," he said, his voice low and strained. "The company…I put everything into it. I thought I could make it work. I thought I could save it."

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting away from yours. "But the debt...it swallowed me whole."

Your stomach twisted, the air suddenly too heavy to breathe. "Debt?" you repeated, your voice shaking.

He nodded, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It got bad—worse than I ever let on. Loans, investors, deadlines. I tried everything to fix it, but nothing worked."

Your eyes filled with sorrow as you reached for his hand, your fingers trembling slightly as they intertwined with his.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of everything.

He huffed softly, his lips pressing into a thin line. "For what? I got myself into this."

You shook your head, gripping his hand a little tighter. "For everything. For keeping secrets, for the company. For getting ourselves into this mess."

In-ho's eyes softened, his resolve cracking just enough to let you see the pain behind it. He scooted, his free hand lifting to cup your cheek. His touch was warm, steadying you in a way words couldn't.

"I swear to you," he said, his voice low but filled with determination, "I'll keep you safe."

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a tear slipped free, wetting his palm. For a moment, the chaos and fear melted away, leaving only the connection between you.

"Everything I do," he continued, his voice softer now, almost reverent, "will be for you."

Your breath caught in your throat—until Mina's voice cut through the air.

"Okay, lovebirds, hate to interrupt your heartfelt moment," she said, leaning on her elbows, "but we're still stuck in a life-or-death situation. Maybe save the romantic monologues for after we survive?"

In-ho's eyes darted up to Mina, his expression instantly shifting from tender to thoroughly exasperated.

"Mina," he said flatly, his tone carrying the weight of someone barely holding onto their patience.

She flashed a wide, overly fake smile, tilting her head like she was posing for a sitcom. "Been a long time, hasn't it?"

In-ho's jaw tightened as he let out a sharp breath through his nose. "Not long enough," he muttered under his breath.

Mina, unfazed, grinned wider. "Oh, come on, don't act like you're not happy to see me. I bring joy wherever I go."

In-ho shot her a deadpan look. "Joy, or chaos?"

"Tomato, to-mah-to," she quipped, shrugging.

You tried to stifle a laugh, which only made In-ho shoot you a betrayed look. "You're laughing? Really?"

Mina threw her arm around your shoulder, grinning smugly.

"See? I'm a gift."

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

Meal time passed in a blur as you scarfed down a hard-boiled egg and a small cup of water. It wasn't much, but enough to stave off the gnawing hunger. In-ho, without hesitation, handed you his share, sliding the egg and water toward you with a sweet look in his eyes.

"You need it more than I do," he said simply, ignoring your protests. Mina, never one to let a moment pass with commentary, let out an exaggerated scoff, teasing In-ho and making her remark.

You shot her a glare, "Mina," you said with a sharp edge in your tone.

"Relax," she retorted, smirking as she propped her chin on her hand. "I'm just saying it's cute. Like a scene from a bad rom-com."

You placed a hand on In-ho's arm, silently urging him to let it go. Mina was a professional instigator, and her relentless jabs were as much a part of her personality as her quick wit. He huffed but turned his focus back to you, muttering something under his breath about how she'd been insufferable since the moment he met her.

Later, you lay curled up under the thin blanket on your assigned bed, its scratchy fabric doing little to shield you from the cold. The tension in the room felt slightly less suffocating with In-ho nearby. He'd managed to switch beds, though "convince" wasn't exactly the right word. You'd watched in uneasy silence as he cornered another player—a scrawny man with wide, fearful eyes—and murmured something low and dangerous. Whatever he said had sent the man scurrying away without a second thought.

You weren't sure how to feel about it. Grateful, maybe. Uneasy, definitely. But with In-ho so close, his steady breathing just within reach, you felt a rare sense of safety in a place where none should exist.

The stifling silence of the dorm settled over you as you tried to relax, but sleep remained evasive. The thin mattress beneath you felt harder with every passing moment, and a nagging pressure in your bladder made it impossible to find peace.

You sighed, rubbing your sweaty palms over your face before throwing the blanket off and slipping out of bed as quietly as you could. The cold floor sent a shiver through you as you tiptoed toward the heavy steel door.

With a hesitant knock, you waited, and after a moment, the small window slid open, revealing a pair of eyes behind an ominous black mask.

"I need to use the restroom, please," you whispered, your voice cracking slightly.

The guard's voice was mechanical and unyielding. "No one is permitted to leave during this hour."

You let out a frustrated sigh, shifting uncomfortably. "Please, it's an emergency."

The guard remained silent, and you opened your mouth to plead again when a voice from behind you called out.

"Let her out."

The command was sharp, cold, and filled with an authority that made the hairs on your neck stand on end. You froze, turning slightly to see In-ho standing a few steps away, his posture rigid and his eyes dark and unreadable.

The tone of his voice was unlike anything you'd ever heard from him before—calculated, commanding, chilling. It was the kind of voice that left no room for argument, and even the guard seemed to hesitate, the weight of the demand hanging in the air like a threat.

Your breath caught as the guard finally relented, sliding the door open with a reluctant nod towards In-ho. You glanced at him, his face shadowed by the dim light, and felt a strange mix of gratitude and unease settle in your chest.

The guard stepped aside, motioning for you to follow as the heavy steel door groaned open. You glanced back at In-ho, expecting him to stay behind, but he was already moving to fall into step beside you, his expression unreadable.

The cold air of the corridor hit you like a wall, sending a chill through your already tense frame. The guard's imposing presence loomed ahead, his boots echoing ominously against the concrete floor. You hesitated, then turned to In-ho, your voice low.

"You don't have to come with me, you know. I can take care of myself," you murmured your tone a mix of gratitude and concern.

His eyes flicked to yours briefly before scanning the dim hallway around you. The shadows seemed to shift and stretch with every step, making the atmosphere feel even heavier.

"I stay with you," he muttered, his voice quiet but firm, as though the walls themselves might be listening.

You noticed the way his shoulders remained taut, his movements calculated as if expecting danger at every corner. His eyes darted to the guard ahead, then back to you, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of something deeper in his gaze.

He stayed close, his presence a shield against the unsettling stillness of the corridor.

Reaching the bathroom, you pushed the door open, feeling the cool air inside as it contrasted against the heat building in your chest. You stepped forward, but before you could make it inside, In-ho followed, his movements swift and deliberate. With a forceful push, he slammed the door shut behind him, trapping you between him and the wood.

You gasped, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the situation. "What are you doing?" you started, but the words died in your throat.

In-ho didn't answer. Instead, he moved closer, his breath warm against your skin as he cupped your face with his hands. Before you could protest or fully understand what was happening, his lips crashed against yours, silencing everything around you.

For a moment, everything went still—your heartbeat, the weight of your breath, the tension in the air. Then, slowly, you let yourself sink into him, your body responding to his touch with a deep, aching need you hadn't even realized was there. You kissed him back with all the desperation and longing that had been building since the moment he left that coffee shop, your hands reaching up to pull him closer, craving the connection, the heat.

His lips were soft yet urgent, and the kiss deepened, a powerful force that seemed to push away everything else—the fear, the uncertainty, the danger. All that mattered in that moment was him and the way he made you feel safe. You hear the lock click, then feel the touch of In-ho's hand on your waist. You pull back, In-ho's lips working against your neck.

You chuckled, "We can't fuck in the bathroom," You choked as he bit your neck. "Says who?" he uttered against your skin. You smiled with a gasp, "The people that run this place." He only pulls you closer, scooping you into his arms. You look down at him, legs wrapped around his back, "don't worry about them."

Laying you gently on the nearest sink, you pulled him closer as he slid his hands under your shirt, cupping your breasts while sucking at your neck. You whined at the sensation, yanking his jacket and shirt off. You needed him.

Now.

"This is wrong," you arched into his touch as he squeezed. The thought of fucking in a place of death, a place of violence, chilled your spine.

"Tell me to stop, then." He orders.

You couldn't find the words, thoughts drowned out by need—by desire, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

Reaching for the edges of your shirt, he lifted the fabric over your head, laying it behind you on the cold granite.

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the silken strands as he groaned at the ache. You smiled, tugging his head back, attaching your lips and dragging your tongue to his jaw, his neck, his chest—anything and everything you could reach.

With one quick motion, he pulled you off the sink, turning you around and pushing you face-first into the sink. His palm held your head to the cool granite, keeping you in place. Your breath hitched as he pulled your pants down, taking your underwear with. His hands squeezed and grabbed at your ass before administering a sharp slap. You cried out as he leaned into your ear.

"You want me to fuck you?" You whined, your eyes closed, taking in the moment with him. "Fuck you so the guard outside knows who you belong to you?"

He tugged at his pants, removed them completely, and aligned himself to you. He pushed into you with a force that knocked the air from your lungs.

Your neck was pulled at such an angle that you could see yourself in the mirror—cheeks red, lips puffy, and mouth agape as In-ho was mercilessly fucking you. Your hips ached from the force of hitting the counter, making you shriek. He groaned, "I missed you," he leaned forward again, and you grabbed at his neck behind you, pulling him closer.

You whined, "I-I think—" he grabbed at your jaw, "cum for me," he demanded, forcing your climax to shatter through you. Biting at your shoulder, he fucked you through it, reaching his peak a moment later.

As he slowed, he kept himself right where he was, wrapping his arms around your front and offering a sweet kiss to your cheek.

"That was fun, but I really need to pee." You whispered.

Sitting up slowly, you watched as In-ho moved around the small bathroom, his movements almost automated as he dressed. The sound of fabric rustling filled the silence, but inside, you felt anything but calm. A wave of guilt, heavy and suffocating, crashed over you, the weight of it pressing down on your chest.

What had you just done?

You both had fucked like everything was fine, like you were on some sort of carefree vacation, lost in the moment. But this wasn't a vacation. This wasn't a time for pleasure or escape. People were dying here—people you didn't know, people you'd likely never see again. And yet, you had let yourself indulge in something as fleeting and intimate as this as if nothing mattered. As if you were safe.

The realization hit you with sharp clarity. You were not safe.

You stood quickly, your hands shaking as you hurriedly slipped your shirt and pants back on. The fabric felt tight and foreign against your skin, as if you were suddenly aware of the gravity of every movement, every breath.

You glanced over at In-ho, who had stopped midway through shrugging into his jacket, his eyes narrowing slightly as he caught the change in your demeanor. His gaze softened, but the concern in his eyes only made the guilt in your stomach churn harder.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

The next game arrived faster than you had anticipated, and the tension in your chest only deepened as you prepared yourself for whatever twisted challenge awaited. You instinctively attached yourself to In-ho, walking shoulder to shoulder with him, Mina's hand securely in yours. The three of you were a united front, or at least you tried to be. In-ho, however, refused to acknowledge it, his disdain for Mina simmering just beneath the surface, his gaze sharp and focused as he kept a distance between them.

Entering the game room, your breath caught at the sight before you: a massive merry-go-round, the painted horses eerily still, surrounded by a strange sense of foreboding. You couldn't help but glance around, trying to make sense of it all.

"Any ideas yet?" you asked Mina, but before she could respond, In-ho cut in with an air of certainty.

"Mingle," he said simply.

You turned toward him, a flicker of surprise in your eyes. "How are you so sure?"

Mina's brow furrowed with suspicion, matching your confused look as she eyed him closely. In-ho gave you both a quick glance before answering with a confidence that made your skin crawl.

"The rooms, the platform. It's obvious."

Without another word, he walked ahead, leaving you and Mina in his wake. Mina leaned in closer, her voice low, filled with an edge of concern.

"Don't you think he's guessing a little...too well?"

You pushed her lightly, a knot forming in your stomach as you caught onto the insinuation.

"Don't be silly. We don't even know if he's right."

But Mina wasn't letting it go. She grabbed your shoulders firmly, her eyes crinkling with worry, her voice taking on a more urgent tone.

"I'm saying this as your bestest friend, y/n," she insisted, her gaze locking onto yours, "but something feels off." Her grip tightened, and you felt the weight of her words settle in your chest.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible, as she leaned closer.

"I've been watching him. I've caught this look in his eye—this calculated look—and it's just giving me this god-awful feeling. The way he threatened that older man, how quickly he figured things out... doesn't it make you wonder why he just randomly appeared after the first game?"

You could feel your heartbeat quicken, the creeping unease crawling up your spine. Mina wasn't the type to stir the pot without reason, and her concern was palpable, making your own doubts resurface. You hadn't noticed it before, but now—he was different. His reactions, his confidence—it all seemed a little too... precise. Too perfect. Not to mention the guard shrinking from his demand.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the rising fear down. "Mina... you're overthinking it."

But the doubt gnawed at you, and the unease in your gut only grew heavier.

"Maybe I am," Mina said, her voice filled with uncertainty but still holding a note of conviction.

She paused, then added, "Just listen for the announcement. If he's wrong, you can spend the rest of our lives rubbing it in."

She gave a slight, teasing snicker, her smile a little more strained now, as if trying to lighten the growing tension.

"Just don't die on me and ruin the moment," she added, the last part almost playful, but there was an underlying concern in her voice.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound coming out a little too nervous to be genuine, but you couldn't help it. "Oh, don't worry," you said, forcing a grin as you nudged her shoulder. "I'm definitely going to outlive you."

Mina's arm swung around your shoulders, pulling you in tight for a brief, tight hug. Her grip was almost protective, and you could feel her warmth seep through your clothes, an odd comfort in a place like this.

"If you do outlive me," she muttered into your ear, "just promise me you'll still remember who had your back when no one else did."

Her words were light, but you knew she meant them as the two of you stepped on the platform next to In-ho.

The familiar woman's voice echoed, but it felt distant like you were hearing it through a thick fog, muffled and hollow.

"Players, welcome to the second game."

A chill ran down your spine.

"For your next game, you will be playing Mingle.”

Your heart stopped.

No, it couldn't be. Not this. The ground beneath you seemed to tilt, and for a moment, everything went still. Your body felt weightless, detached from the reality around you. The world felt like it was spinning, but you were anchored somewhere far away, watching yourself as if from a distance.

You glanced at Mina, your hand trembling in hers as your gaze locked onto hers, the panic written all over your face mirrored in hers. The sound of the woman's voice faded into static, her words becoming unintelligible as your hearing seemed to dull, the world slipping further from your grasp.

You squeezed Mina's hand with a strength you didn't know you had, but the pressure in your chest only tightened. Her expression softened into something akin to sorrow, the pity in her eyes somehow making everything worse. It was as if she could feel what you were experiencing—the crushing weight of the game's announcement.

Too afraid to look at In-ho, you kept your eyes fixed on Mina, clinging to her as if she could pull you back from the edge as if she could stop everything from falling apart. But the feeling—the sense of drowning in your own mind—was overwhelming, suffocating. The fear clawed at you, and you couldn't stop it, couldn't stop the sense of losing yourself in the chaos of it all.

It was like the world was rushing forward, and you were stuck, frozen in place, unable to breathe.

It was as if everything fell into place in that moment, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together with a sickening clarity. The rush of realization hit you all at once, and it was like a weight was crushing your chest.

You thought back to the things he'd said, the things he'd done—each one a thread leading you to this horrifying truth. The way he'd spoken to you at the coffee shop, so calm and calculated, the same cold detachment in his voice now. That look in his eyes—it wasn't just about the game, wasn't just about survival. It was something darker.

He knew exactly where Mina was losing her money. He knew, and he didn't care. And that violent threat he made to that man—it wasn't a slip of anger, wasn't a moment of desperation. It was deliberate. Purposeful. The guard, too, obeying him without question—it wasn't just chance.

"Don't worry about them," he had said in the bathroom. And now, the words echoed in your mind, twisted with new meaning, the lie hanging heavy between you.

You turned to him slowly in that instant, your heart hammering in your chest. The betrayal was like a sharp knife, cutting deeper with every passing second. His cold countenance met your gaze, and in that moment, it all became painfully clear. His indifference to everything, to everyone around him—it wasn't survival for him.

It wasn't coincidence. It wasn't a fluke. It was him.

You looked down and off in the distance.

The games — It was him.

Mina's grip tightened around your hand, pulling you forward off the platform in a blur. You hadn't even realized the game had started—your mind was still reeling, the weight of the revelation suffocating your thoughts. The number 2 echoed in the air, and the pressure of the game became all too real.

Before you could even process what was happening, a sudden force yanked you back, your arm jerking as a strong hand latched onto you. You were pulled against a hard, familiar chest, and you barely had time to breathe before you recognized the feeling—the cold, unyielding presence of In-ho.

A jolt of panic shot through you, but Mina wasn't letting you go that easily. She struggled to break free, her hand reaching for yours, fighting with everything she had to drag you away from him. But it was no use, as a passerby knocked her down with a strong force.

In-ho was swift, dragging you toward the nearest room without hesitation, his grip firm on your arm. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall, but before you could even register the danger, a man appeared from the shadows, lunging forward and knocking you to the ground.

Twenty seconds

The urgency of the countdown pulsed in the air. In-ho reacted in an instant, grabbing the man by the shoulders and slamming him back.

"Get in! Go!" he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

You didn't need to be told twice. Fear surged through your body, and you bolted for the room, throwing yourself inside. But as the door slammed behind you, your heart sank—there was already someone in the room. The man's partner, standing tall, blocking the way.

In-ho was hot on your heels, entering just a moment later. His eyes immediately locked onto the intruder.

"Out," he commanded coldly, his voice carrying authority. But the man stood his ground, refusing to move.

Ten Seconds

In-ho didn't hesitate. He circled around the man with lightning speed, his movements precise. Before the man could react, In-ho had him in a chokehold, his grip unyielding.

The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as your pulse raced in your throat. Terrified, you backed against the wall, eyes wide with panic. You could feel the countdown in your chest, each second more suffocating than the last.

5...4...3...2...1

A sharp, sickening crack split the silence, and the man's body went limp in In-ho's arms, his life snuffed out in an instant. The room seemed to freeze, and for a moment, all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

You slid down the wall in a daze, your breath shallow as you pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to stifle the shock and nausea threatening to overwhelm you. You couldn’t look away from the lifeless form, the reality of what had just happened sinking in, making your head spin.

Mina.

You jumped to your feet, looking out the small window of the room.

You couldn't find her.

That was a good thing, right?

Remaining in the room, that same woman's voice spoke over the loudspeaker.

"The following players have been eliminated."

"Player 022, 120, 207..."

You tried to block out the sound of the numbers, each one echoing in your mind like a drumbeat, relentless and deafening. But then, the one number you’d been desperately praying would never come—the one you feared more than any other—was announced.

"Player 067, eliminated."

The words felt like a physical blow, crashing into you with an intensity that took your breath away. A cold, sinking feeling spread through your chest as reality shattered. The world blurred around you, the weight of the announcement pressing down on your entire being, suffocating you.

You screamed, the sound raw and desperate, a cry that seemed to tear from your very soul. You screamed until your throat burned, until the pain in your chest was too much to bear, until everything in your vision distorted in the haze of shock and grief.

And then, cold hands gripped your shoulders—too cold, too steady. In-ho pulled you, almost as if he were dragging you into the abyss with them. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think. All that remained was the sound of your own voice breaking, the empty, hollow realization that you’d lost someone you couldn’t afford to lose in this hellish place.

His hands guided you down to the floor, but your legs refused to hold you. You crumpled, your body trembling violently as the weight of the loss crushed you.

There was nothing but the scream in your throat and the terrible, empty silence that followed the words you could never unhear.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You didn’t remember slipping into unconsciousness, but in that moment, it felt like a mercy—an escape from the crushing weight of reality.

When you awoke, everything felt distant, foreign, like you had been transported to a place where nothing mattered anymore. The world around you was different, but you barely registered it, your mind too numb to care.

In-ho stood in front of you, his presence all too much. His eyes bore into yours, but yours were hollow, glassy, stripped of the light they once had.

"Drink this," he murmured, extending an undersized glass of liquor. His voice was steady, yet cold, as if rehearsed. You took the glass with trembling hands but not to drink. With a sharp motion, you hurled it across the room. The glass shattered against the wall, fragments raining down like jagged tears.

"You're despicable," you spat, the words seething with venom. His face barely flinched, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something-pain? Regret? It didn't matter.

"You were never meant to be involved, y/n. If you would have just come to me about your troubles this wouldn't have happened."

You scoffed, your lip curling in contempt. "Oh, and everything would have been perfect, wouldn't it? You jetting off on your little 'business trips,' murdering people, while I stayed home like some clueless fool, keeping your bed warm and smiling like an idiot. Is that how you imagined it?"

Your voice wavered, thick with bitterness, as tears burned your cheeks.

"How....how could you do it?" He circled you, slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering prey. He sank into the loveseat behind you with an air of calculated calm, gesturing for you to sit. His hand barely moved, a silent command. You didn't budge.

He sighed, "I'm doing this for us, for you. Don't you see? The people chosen for the game are parasites—leeches consumed by greed and selfishness. They deserve to be eliminated from existence. Whether they're crushed in the process or crawl away with their filthy riches, it doesn't matter. Either way, they're removed from our world."

Your breath caught in your throat, the words slicing through you like a jagged blade. For a moment, you couldn't speak, couldn't even think. His voice, so calm, so calculating, made your skin crawl.

"For us?" you finally choked out, your voice trembling, caught between disbelief and anguish.

"How can you even say that?"

He didn't flinch, didn't waver, his eyes cold and distant. But you? You were unraveling. Your chest heaved as if trying to contain the storm brewing inside you.

"People. Parasites. Is that what you think they are? Is that what you thought Mina was? Is that why you had her killed?

"Is that what you think I am?" The words came out sharp, but your voice cracked under the weight of your emotions.

That seemed to get to him. He rose from his seat with slow movements, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You?" he said, his voice softer now but no less chilling.

"You're not like them."

He began walking toward you, his steps measured, almost cautious, like he was approaching a cornered animal.

"You're not here for your own gain, not for greed or selfish desires. You're here for your father, fighting to save him. That’s why I-I” He started, but you scoffed cutting him off.

But as he drew closer, you instinctively stepped back, your feet moving before your mind could catch up. A cold rush of fear swept over you. You'd never been afraid of him before, but now? Now, you couldn't trust what he was capable of.

"In-ho... don't," you whispered, your voice shaking.

He froze mid-step, his hand half-raised toward you, his brows knitting together. "Don't do that," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "Don't back away from me. Please, don't... don't be afraid of me."

Your heart clenched, but his words didn't bring comfort. They only deepened the chasm between you.

How could this be the same man who once made you laugh until your sides hurt? Who wiped your tears with such tenderness that you thought your heart might burst from the love you felt for him? Memories surged through you—the quiet mornings, the stolen smiles, the promises whispered in the dark. You thought of every moment you had shared, the man you believed in, the man you loved with everything you had.

And now, here he was—a stranger standing before you, cloaked in the shadow of someone you used to know.

"How can I not be afraid?" You whispered, your voice barely audible. You felt the knife twist in your back. Your eyes dropped to the crimson spreading across your clothes, the sheer volume of people's blood making your stomach churn. You trembled uncontrollably, paralyzed by shock and disbelief. Through your haze of agony, you caught In-ho's gaze. His expression was a storm of guilt and regret, but it only deepened your devastation as you crumbled before him.

Finally, your voice cracked again. "I…I need space."

His expression faltered, pain flashing across his face. "Space?"

You nodded, wiping your tear-streaked face with trembling hands. "I can't… I need to think. Please."

He hesitated, then nodded slowly, though his posture screamed reluctance. "You can take the spare bedroom," he said softly. "Down the hall, second door on the left."

Without another word, you turned and walked away, your legs heavy and unsteady beneath you. When you reached the room, you stepped inside and slammed the door shut, locking it before leaning back against it. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your mind racing.

After a moment, you crossed the room, grabbing fresh towels from the small cabinet. You needed to wash it all away—the day, the deaths, the violence. Everything.

The bathroom was dimly lit, the only sound the steady rush of warm water from the shower. You stepped inside, sinking down onto the cold tile floor as the water poured over you, mixing with your tears.

Your mind raced, flashing back to the chaos of the day—the screams, the blood, the merciless decisions. And at the center of it all, the one pulling the strings was him. In-ho.

But then, as much as you wanted to hate him, memories of the past three years flooded your mind. His laughter that lit up even your darkest days. The way he'd hold you, whispering that everything would be okay. The small, thoughtful gestures that made you feel so loved. The way he'd make love.

You buried your face in your hands, the water soaking through your hair and down your bare skin. You still loved him. Even after everything, your heart ached for him.

But how could you reconcile the man who once made your world brighter with the man you'd seen today? The man who was capable of orchestrating so much death and pain?

Your shoulders shook as sobs wracked your body. You didn't know what to do. You didn't know if you could forgive him or if you could ever look at him the same way again.

And yet, even in the depths of your confusion and heartbreak, one thing was painfully clear—you still loved him, but you're not even sure he existed anymore.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

It had been two weeks, two long weeks of isolation. You barely left your room, only emerging when absolutely necessary —for food or the fleeting desire for a change in scenery. In-ho had tried, time and time again, to draw you out of your silence, but every time he spoke, every time his eyes met yours, you couldn't even bring yourself to acknowledge him. The pain was still too raw.

Now, standing in front of the mirror, brushing your damp hair, you let the motions soothe you for a moment. The simple act of taking care of yourself felt almost comforting. But then a knock at the door broke through the quiet.

You approached cautiously, heart beating faster as you turned the knob, only to find In-ho standing there. He said nothing at first, just looked at you, his expression unreadable.

"I want to show you something," he said, his voice low.

You hesitated, shaking your head, instinctively wanting to retreat back into the safety of your room. But his next words made you pause, the sincerity in his eyes pulling at something deep inside of you.

"Please."

It was a simple plea, but it held something genuine—something that made you want to trust him, just for a moment. You sighed, giving in, and followed him down the hall to his office.

The space was quiet and orderly as always. In-ho circled around his desk and sat down, and you stood, hugging your arms tightly to yourself, feeling the chill of the room. He beckoned you over, and you approached, curiosity and apprehension warring in your chest.

He opened a file on his computer, and as the video began to play, your eyes scanned the screen. You recognized the area instantly—it was right outside the city hospital, a place so familiar to you.

And then, you saw him. Your father, sitting in a wheelchair. Beside him, your mother. And the woman next to them…

Mina.

Your heart leaped in your chest, the tears welling up in your eyes as the weight of the moment crashed down on you.

You blinked, trying to steady yourself as you turned to In-ho, your voice shaky. "How..."

He looked back at you, his tone softer than you expected. "Mina was removed from the games. Her death was faked. And yours." He turned the screen toward you, showing more of the footage. "As for your father, I made sure the necessary funds were sent and lined him up with a donor."

A sense of relief flooded through you like a tidal wave. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but one thing was clear—everything was going to be okay.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you could breathe again. The people you cared about were safe. Your father was getting the help he needed, and Mina—Mina was alive.

Tears streamed down your face, but they were no longer tears of grief. They were tears of release, of a weight finally lifted.

In-ho's gaze met yours, his eyes unwavering as he reached out to take your hands gently in his. His touch was warm, grounding, as if he was trying to reassure you, to remind you that you were no longer alone in this.

"I swore to you," he said, his voice low and steady, "that everything I did, every decision, every action—it would be for you."

You slid into his lap, your knees trembling as you took his face in your hands, wiping away the stray tear that escaped down his cheek. His skin felt warm against your palms, a comfort you had clung to so many times before, but now it only reminded you of how much had changed—how far apart the two of you had drifted.

"All these years," you began, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes, "all I've known is what you've allowed me to know. Half of who you are. And I loved that half—I loved it with everything in me." Your voice faltered, but you forced yourself to continue, your fingers trembling as they traced the curve of his jaw. "But this," you said, gesturing to the cold, sterile facility surrounding you, "this is something I can't forgive. These people… they're not parasites or leeches. They're human beings, In-ho. Human beings who were dealt a bad hand. And you've turned their suffering into a game."

His brows furrowed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, but he said nothing. You could see it—the war raging in his mind, the guilt and conflict he was too proud to admit. You leaned in closer, your forehead almost touching his as you whispered, your voice trembling, "I'm going to give you a choice."

His hands slid up your waist instinctively, as if trying to anchor himself to you, trying to hold on to the one thing he couldn't bear to lose. You felt his grip tighten, desperate, but you pressed on, your words cutting through the silence.

"Come home with me," you said, your voice cracking with emotion. "Leave this all behind and we can reset. Walk away from this nightmare, because if you don't…" Your breath caught as tears spilled freely down your cheeks. "If you don't, In-ho, you will never see me again."

His eyes widened, a flicker of pain flashing across his face as he processed your words. You saw the gears turning in his mind, the walls he had built around himself crumbling under the weight of your ultimatum. His grip on you faltered, his hands trembling as he clung to you like a lifeline.

"In-ho," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "please. I can't save you from this. You have to save yourself."

For a long, agonizing moment, he said nothing, his silence filling the room like a deafening roar. And as you stared into his eyes, searching for the man you had loved for so long, you realized this moment would either be the beginning of something new—or the end of everything.

-> PART TWO <-

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #front man x reader #front man #in ho squid game #fanfic #squid game season 2 #the frontman #squid game fanfic #fan fiction #the front man x reader

1K notes · View notes

azzayofchaos · 10 months ago

Text

Since my other Nether worldbuilding post was received pretty well... I'm back on my bullshit!

This time featuring zoning and biomes of the Neath: Lore below cut

Nether (noun): the formidable hellscape straddling the boundery between the Fragments of the Overworld and Death's Realms.

Derived from Beneath -> Neath -> Neth -> Nether.

The Nether is most easily accessable through outer regions of the nether, regions that are comparatively closed-off, and lacking in biodiversity compared to the Deep Nether where most Neath civilizations are centered.

The Neth is divided into three primary zones, distinguished by altitude and general climates.

The Calfactory Zone: the largest and most iconic of the three, the Calfactory zone is blisteringly hot and bone-dry, it's most prominent features are its abundant seas and lakes of magma, and the massive Supermagmas atriums that are common above the magma. In the largest of these atriums, the ceiling may be so high above as to be completely invisible from the ground, obscured by an ever present smog of toxic vapor and minerals formed in the self-generated micro-climates that are generated from the rising heat of the lava that begins to cool at a higher altitude.

In the Basalt Deltas and other biomes around the edges of these lakes, massive pillars of rock and crystals bulwark the more-visible ceiling.

The most common of this zone’s biomes is the Crimson woods, home to hearty thermal-philic fungi and plants that grow on the minerals and vapors of the lakes. Many are carnivorous in their lack of access to water or sunlight, and these forests contain many sub-biomes and ecosystems of flourishing life.

The Wastes are perhaps the most desolate regions of the Neath, irradiated deserts of red-rock, brimstone, and sharp sand. Even the vast majority of nether-folk avoid these deserts due to the leftover radiation that rots and destroys anything that waits too long. The only forms of life are particularly robust lichens and bacteria that are happy to sit by the boiling pools of sulfur and mud and toxic sludge that dot the landscape. Growing within the rocks themselves are colonies of amorphous fungus, called geocorpus molds, they get their spores into cracks in the soft netherack and slowly feed on it; the ‘rock meat’ is considered a delicacy in nether cuisine.

The Temperate Zone: Cradled in the heights of the Neath’s atriums and sat below the roof is the temperate zones; the rising heat of the zone below begins to cool and by doing so, distinct weather patterns form within this zone, leaving it, while still sweltering, a cooler though much more humid climate.

The main biome are the luminescent warped-fungal rainforests that collect the high-rising minerals and odd moisture from the lakes. Liquid is actually present here, though, if it’s not safely filtered through the innards of the various plants and fungi, this water is usually aggressively corrosive, and it is best to shelter from the acidic precipitation to avoid chemical burns. The nether folk and ender local to these rainforests are suited to deal with these conditions and the ender especially do not have trouble with the extreme pH of the water here like they would in the overworld. The zone is lit almost exclusively by the biolumincense of the organisms there and have often been described as false-stars.

In the Deep Nether, the ceiling may give way, allowing one to pass onto the plateaus of the Nether Roof and the yawning void above. The bedrock of the nether roof is jagged and layered in huge slabs, sometimes broken up my mazes of pillar-like structures and shallow, thermal pools of crystal-clear liquid. The kind you don't want to touch of course. fogs may hang low to the ground, but when its clear, or above the fog, the entire universe seems to spill out into the sky. The nether roof was culturally significant and a source of much knowledge and inspiration in the early days, but I'll get more into that in a later post 0.0

The Rime Zone: Plunge deep enough and one might find themselves bellow the lava beds. Here, where the heat can't quite penetrate, the temperatures will drop rapidly to sub-zero.

Namely, the Rime Zone is made up of the soul valleys, flat steppes of cinder and clotted sand, you can imagine it almost with the blindness effect, a fog that pools by your feet, and a heavier darkness hanging from the sky, it feels massive and endless and claustrophobic all at once. Frost collects as crystals on the irradiated, soul-soaked barrens, and the bones of the massive nether wyrms lie fossilized, breaking up the landscape. The sands are also split with patches of crazing on the ground and vents of blue fire that spills out and sets the sand ablaze.

These same wryms can be found sometimes, ancient things that dig through sand and soft rocks and the magma lakes, far and few between and treated with both fear and reverence.

And in the deepest pits of the Neath are the glowing frozen lakes that are colloquially and rightfully called the Gates to Death, glowing blue from beneath their surfaces. Indeed, any further down and you pass into limbo, the edge of Death's Realms.

Extra Notes??:

Soul sand/soil is tread on carefully or not at all, is one form of remnants from the apocolyspe. Like the general radiated rubble present through the Nether, it's a fault of nuclear fallout. Unlike other areas of radiation, its also been infused with the souls of those who didn't survive the joining of worlds. That said, unlike soul sand, soul soil is used productively to grow certain nether crops. It’s minerally and magically dense.

This infused quality is also precent in Nether Debris, resulting in a material that takes magic particularly well.

Iron cannot be found in dense veins and crystals like gold or quartz in the nether, but it's a pretty rich mineral a lot of netherack, giving it its ruddy coloring.

Sorry for this massive rant that no one asked for. If you have questions please feel free to send an ask, I may not have an answer yet but I'll certainly come up with one if I can.

I'm also hoping to do a pass on my headcanons about history and culture in the Nether and then we might start talking about character headcanons since this is also an actual AU.

If you read this far, here's some notes on striders and ghast

#minecraft #minecraft worldbuilding #Minecraft lore #speculative worldbuilding #minecraft nether #the nether #dreamingverse au #my art

2K notes · View notes

astralphobia · 9 months ago

Text

anyone else think of how terrifying sock opera must have been for mabel

when bipper’s looking down at her with that shit-eating grin, holding the rope?? Yk, that iconic scene??

Yeah, I can’t imagine how Mabel must have felt or how many nightmares sprung from that.

just. Imagine with me, okay? You’re twelve. You have a twin brother who’s been there for you your whole life, and always has your best interest at heart. He’s given up so much for you, and you’ve tried your best to help him in return, helping him solve mysteries and engaging in the things he enjoys with him. You don’t have to do that, but you do, because you want him to be happy.

And one day, something odd happens. He hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep lately, so maybe it’s just sleep deprivation! Maybe he’s just. ..Acting so oddly,, because he’s tired!

yeah. That’s it. At least he wants to help you with your crush for once, even if he wanted to focus on that laptop earlier. You feel kinda bad about ignoring it, but c’monnnn!! This guy is. So hot. You can’t help yourself! .. probably.

When you’re almost halfway through your attempt to impress this guy, this.. puppet you made starts floating, talking to you in the voice of your brother, telling you that he did something stupid (made a deal), and his body is currently being possessed by this triangle jerk you encountered earlier in the summer.

… kinda a lot to take in, but hey!! At least you know what was off now. .. wow, you’re kind of a bad sister for not noticing, huh?

anyways, he needs your help! But it could totally ruin your chances with this guy…. But that doesn’t matter, he needs your help. This only happened because you didn’t help him earlier, so you gotta help him now, right??

you rush to find the only thing that could possibly help you in this scenario. The journal.

And when you do find it, well..

even though you know that is not your brother, that’s a demon, possessing your brother’s body.. it still looks like him. And never have you felt such utter horror, such primal fear at the sight of a simple grin, ear. to. ear.

seeing him above you, standing on the catwalk makes you feel small, useless, insignificant.

and the expression on his face is one you hope you never see his facial features contort into again.

And he’s holding onto the rope that could mean the difference between life or death for you, the rope that is holding you and the wooden cake in the air. You’re lucky he caught it in the first place.

He could drop it any time he wants. Let go any time he wants. And he does, briefly, toying with you.

When your eyes widen and fear squeezes at your heart, he laughs at your pathetic, meaningless actions.

and even though you know it isn’t your brother. You know it’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not, it’s not…

And yet. It sounds like him. His laugh. The little one he makes whenever you make a silly joke, or fall over dramatically, possibly at the expense of your dignity. The one you have heard so many times, usually just as innocent and sweet as the last. And now you hear it again, and even if it’s something else laughing through him,, you can’t help but hear it. Tainted with ill intent.

The day does get saved, however. Your brother gets back into his own body not too much later. And everything is back to normal!

….. but.

You can’t help but remember that moment whenever he smiles a bit too wide, or laughs a bit too hard.

You can’t help but stay awake at night, replaying that moment. Telling yourself that it wasn’t him.

And you still have nightmares about it, too. Where you don’t notice until it’s too late and that thing that looks and sounds like him but isn’t him is back and this time you’ve lost, you’ve lost, you’ve lost!

..you wish you were a better sister.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #bill cipher #astral yaps

582 notes · View notes

toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account · 2 months ago

Text

yeah no you sound insufferable. anyway

i know that when people say "hey we made it through the last four years! we can do it again!" it's usually because they're just trying to tell themselves it'll be fine because they're scared too so I don't want to be a dick about it but like. they didn't have a guy make a fucking nazi salute to a fucking cheering crowd in his inauguration on day fucking one eight fucking years ago. i mean not to damper down the optimism or nothing but. i feel like it's important to point out that it's not just going to be a Repeat of 2016-2020 All Over Again. it's probably going to be more like the Fucking Worst of it that we got in 2020 (or the 2021 Fucking Insurrection) will be the Starting Point for whatever the fuck happens next and we should. idk. plan for that

#this whole reply is so indecipherable but the instant you went 'oh well i suppose the death threats will hit soon! woe is me!'#i realized you were annoying as fuck lmao #how the fuck someone with a black butler icon is. somehow a maga is beyond me #but you also deny elon making the salute/blame it on his 'tism #so. instead of a rebuttal i drew trelon #'i wish you nothing but happiness and peace' after leaving the most insufferable message. out here sounding like my stepdad lmao #i'll get that 'happiness and peace <333' shit the day I turn on the TV and see 'in memoriam' next to that shitty fucking smile of his #(that's not a threat. i have no intentions of harm. that's just me saying how ecstatic i'll be the day he's gone)

2K notes · View notes

teenidlegirl · 17 days ago

Text

⠀✸⠀⠀𝓑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝓞𝐅 𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓜𝐄𝐒𝐒⠀⠀┈⠀﹙⠀𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟐⠀﹚⠀ა ︎ ﾞ .

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀ while miguel is gone, you navigate the final days of your pregnancy alone until you go into labor. luckily, he surprisingly returns in time for welcoming your daughter into the world. you and miguel finally start enjoying life as a family.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀angst, pregnancy, heartbreak, labor, vaginal birth, fluff, domesticity, family dynamics, breastfeeding, timeskip, mild smut (mdni), girldad!miguel, happy ending

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀ ❜

miguel’s departure left an open wound that’s unable to heal. it was so hard… no matter what you do, all you can think is him and constantly worried about him. you need him, you need him here, you need him back. since he’s in special forces, there is no way of contacting him. you didn’t know if he was still alive or… dead. horrible thoughts plague your mind. you want it to stop but you can’t. stress isn’t going for you and the baby, you know that and try your hardest to not overwhelm yourself for the sake of your baby. conchata has reminded you several times to try to not feel stressed out and allow those terrible thoughts to consume you since it’s unhealthy. she has been supportive throughout this whole thing. of course she’s constantly worried about her son, every mother would be and she has been dealing with this for nine years. no matter how many times miguel left, even when they weren’t talking to each other after gabriel’s death, she still worried about him.

since miguel left, you’ve been navigating the last stages of your pregnancy. conchata has not only been supporting you emotionally and mentally but physically and pretty much everything else. just like miguel, the woman didn’t allow you to do much but simply rest. she heavily insisted since you can pop at any moment. a very supportive future mother-in-law, well you already consider her that. to cheer up the both of you, she’d tell your stories when miguel was a little boy. how he used to dress up as spiderman for fun and pretending to be the iconic hero. sometimes gabriel would dress up as the green goblin and they would play together as hero and villain. he and gabriel taking swimming lessons together, pushed his younger brother off the diving board which he got a shit load of trouble for. the one time miguel fell off his bike and busted open his chin after hitting the ground hard, later required stitches. that almost gave conchata a heart attack, she was more traumatized than him. the times when george allowed miguel to ride his bike and do wheelies around the neighborhood, which he got in trouble for. you remember when miguel told you that. all the memories she mentioned did make those anxious thoughts disappear, making smile and laugh instead. but deep down inside, you miss the love of your life.

time has passed and you’re one week away from your due date. damn you feel exhausted from this baby. you look like you’re carrying a planet. well, that’s what happens when your baby daddy is literally 6’9 which is a giant. yeah definitely no more kids after this, not for a long fucking time if you and miguel consider more in the future. right now, you’re focusing on your daughter and anticipate her arrival. you’re excited for two things: your daughter and to finally pop her out. the nursery has been prepared and you can’t wait to see a cute baby in the crib. all the plushies and stuffed animals waiting for her.

you can’t believe you’re gonna be a mother. something you never thought of happening to you. since you were a teenager, you never had the desire or dream of becoming a mom. baby dolls were never your things as a child and you never mentioned being a mom as something you’d like to become on school assignments about what you’d want to be when you’re older. even when relatives ask if you wanted kids, you always said no or not really thought about it. at the time, you focused on school and career. but when you started dating joel and became a part of his family, that was a glimpse of motherhood or just being a parent figure in a way. sarah always viewed you as a motherly figure despite how young you were, considering joel was in his early thirties and you were in your early twenties at the time. you didn’t feel much of a motherly figure until later on. that was when you began considering sarah as a daughter to you. she was your first glimpse at motherhood.

after your relationship with joel ended, your thoughts on motherhood reverted back to what they were originally: uninterested. perhaps the break up soured your interest. those two years were fucking painful, especially the first year. but later on, you met a man who became the love of your life and forever changed your life. miguel changed your life in many ways. a true, loving relationship which unfortunately suffered for a bit but then rebuild itself back to that loving relationship. the biggest change was the baby, the tiny miracle that’s a combination of you and him soon to arrive. an unexpected miracle but you already love this child with all your heart and can’t wait to shower her with endless love.

this is your true shot at motherhood. not gonna lie, you’re a bit nervous and being a parent isn’t an easy task to know right off the bat. many things will come, changing endlessly diapers, breastfeeding until formula is needed, sleepless nights, crying during the night. what you dread the most is the sleepless nights. say goodbye to sleeping in, especially if your baby is a light sleeper and wakes up constantly throughout the night. god you really hope she’ll be able to sleep through the night. but either way you have to prepare for whichever scenario. all you hope for is a to be a good mother and try your best. to try your best for your daughter.

currently, you and conchata are shopping at the grocery store. despite her many objections and insistence on you staying home, your excuse was that you needed to move around after being cooped up at home for months and to stretch your legs. although she was against it, conchata knew you were right. after shopping for what you need, you head back to the car. once the trunk was loaded, conchata takes the cart back and you wait for standing outside basking in the warm sunshine. you wear a simple yellow sundress since it’s been recently warm.

while waiting for conchata to return, a small wave of discomfort suddenly hits in your lower abdomen. instinctively, you place a hand over the area of pain and hunch over a little. for a moment you believe it’s braxton hicks since you had them a few days ago. but another wave of pain shoots through your stomach again, more intense this time that makes you groan in pain and hunch over more. then, you suddenly feel wetness escape and down your legs. glancing down, there is a tiny puddle on the floor.

oh fuck, your water broke.

you’re going into labor, in a fucking parking lot.

groans and wheezing of pain escape your lips as the contractions begin. shit this can’t be happening now, it’s a week away from your due date yet babies can come whenever and your baby girl decides to come today. while hunched over groaning in pain, an older couple approach you with concerned expressions. they ask what’s wrong and if you need help until they register you are having contractions. thankfully, conchata returns but immediately rushed over after seeing you in pain. she recognizes that painful state.

“ay dios, mija!” she comes to your side. “let’s get you in the car, okay?” you can only nod since you’re in pain and she guides you to the car, being very so carefully. she quickly thanks the couple for about to call an ambulance before rushing to get inside the car and take off to the nearest hospital.

thankfully, the hospital wasn’t too far. next thing you know it, you’re in the delivery room dressed in a hospital gown, laying in a bed, and still groaning in pain as the contractions continue. conchata contacted your family, your parents will arrive soon, your siblings will later when they can. while suffering from immense pain, your minds wanders back to miguel. he’s still gone and your daughter is about to be born. the thought brings tears to your eyes. you miss him so fucking bad. you’re in labor, about to give birth to your daughter and he isn’t here. not here sitting by your side, holding your hand, and whispering soft praises of love. instead he’s in south america doing god knows what kind of dangerous mission. he will be missing the birth of his daughter and it breaks your heart. you knew miguel was so excited for this day to come and witness it but now only to be taken away from him. he was so excited to become a father and prepare to shower his baby girl with much love. you remember he babbling about how excited he’d be carrying your daughter in the car seat once you were ready to go home. now that may never happen and it breaks your heart even more.

suffering from this shitty ass contractions increases your need for miguel. you need him here, you need his support, you need his comfort that he always provides. you just need him back. although conchata is here for you, you still feel alone because the man you love isn’t here. so alone dealing with this horrible pain that you wish it would stop. besides desperately wanting to pop this baby out, you need miguel. you can’t do this alone, you’re afraid to do this alone. tears begin trailing down your face as thoughts of miguel ran through your poor distraught mind.

you need him, you need miguel.

the contractions grow more frequent. the doctor and nurses inform you that you’re ready to give birth. the moment you’ve being waiting and dreading for. waiting because you’re finally about to pop this baby out and meet your baby girl. dreading because of the fucking terrible pain. but besides those two feelings, you also are upset that miguel isn’t here to witness it. the sad thoughts don’t help out with the contractions. pain and tears aren’t fun. there is no other choice. you have to do this alone, despite how scared you are, you have to do this for your daughter.

with conchata’s hand holding yours as she sits beside you, you begin pushing. even with the damn epidural, the pain still sucks ass. your screams and groans of pain echo throughout the delivery room. droplets of sweat trail down your face. never have you experienced so much pain. it’s so unbareable that every word of reassurance and praise from the doctor and nurses is pissing you off. telling you you’re doing great when actually you feel like absolute shit. yeah there is no way in hell you’re doing this shit again. it’s a damn oath for sure. with each push, the pain increases. you hate it so much. why does birth have to be so damn painful? remember those kid movies when babies were delivered by storks? yeah, you were that was real. how simple it would be if you want a child, they would brought down by a stork and dropped off on your doorstep. no pain, nothing. or if you want a baby, they’ll magically appear in your hands. but nope, you have to go through this awful pain to let that happen. being a mother is fucking rough.

the pain is too much. after too many pushes, the baby is still not coming out. she is stubborn as hell, pretty much like her father. you lay back against the pillow, crying out of exhaustion. it’s too much, you can’t do it. no matter what you thought earlier, you can’t do this. you can’t do this without miguel beside you. you need him here, you need his support. how can you bring a baby into the world without her father, the man that you love, here? no matter the words of encouragement and praises from the doctor, nurses, and conchata, none can compare to miguel. those sweet praises that always make your heart flutter. nothing can compare to his sweet words and praises. no one can compare to him.

“the baby is almost here! just one more push!” the doctor exclaims, offering an encouraging smile.

thank the fucking higher beings.

despite your wishes for miguel to be here for this moment, you have to do it alone. hopefully when he returns from the mission, he’ll meet the baby. as you prepare to give one final push, the door swings wide open. everyone, including you, turn with wide eyes at who suddenly barged in the room.

it’s miguel.

he is here. he is actually here. oh my god miguel is actually here. he came back, your love came back.

those gorgeous brown eyes wide open. chest heaving due to feeling breathless after running around the hospital to find your room. miguel immediately rushed over to you.

“um excuse me, sir. who are you?” one of the nurses ask, trying to stop him but miguel dodges her hand from preventing him reaching to you.

“the father.” he didn’t bother to acknowledge her, his eyes never tore from yours as miguel crouches next to you. “i’m here, mi reina. i’m here.”

you look at him with wide, glossy eyes of shock and relief. “y-you’re here. you’re actually here!” your hands immediately cup his face, confirming that he is real and here with you in this moment.

“sí, mi reina. i’m here and never leaving you again. not like that ever again.” miguel said sincerely, his larger hands cup your face as well.

you cry out of relief and immediately kiss him. your wish came true. miguel is back and here by your side. he’s here and finally has the chance to see your baby born. you aren’t alone now, the love of your life is here alive and well. you couldn’t be more grateful.

“i love you.” you whisper in between kisses.

miguel smiles against your lips. “té quiero tanto.”

“h-how are you back? what happened?”

he softly chuckles, shaking his head. “i’ll explain later. right now, let’s meet our baby girl, okay?” his thumb caresses your cheek ever so gently.

you nod then give him one final kiss before preparing to push one last time. his hand holds yours while the other is still occupied by conchata. miguel flashes a quick smile to his mother, silently promising to properly greet her later which she doesn’t mind and focuses on you and the baby. now with miguel by your side, suddenly you feel much better and confident. taking a deep breath, you give one final push with all your might. miguel feels your hand squeezing the shit of his but doesn’t care one bit. it hurts him to see you in pain but he admires how strong you are. that’s his strong woman. after the strongest push you can do, it was done. you lay back against the pillow in relief and tears of happiness when you hear the cries of your daughter.

you did it, you welcome your daughter into the world.

“you did it, mi reina,you did it. you did amazing. you brought our baby girl into the world, té quiero.” miguel kisses your forehead repeatedly as a tear of joy trails down his cheek while the nurses tend to your daughter and quickly wrap her up in a blanket.

“congratulations, it’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor announces as he passes your little huddle of joy to you and you collect her in your arms.

another batch of tears swell in your eyes as you look at your daughter for the first time. she’s here and she’s so beautiful. adorably wrapped in a pink blanket. your baby girl is finally here, you can’t believe it. you are officially a mother.

although she’s only a few minutes old, you’re not surprised to see how strongly she resembles her father. a load of dark brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and has miguel’s nose. you figured miguel’s genes would be the strongest. she’s a mini replica of him.

miguel, on the other hand, is an emotional mess. seeing his daughter for the first time makes him cry silently. she is so beautiful and tiny. the most beautiful tiny little being in the whole universe. his baby girl is here and he already loves her so much. he is also not surprised how much she resembles, which makes miguel chuckle softly. she may look like him but she is beautiful as her mother.

“hi, mi amor.” you whisper softly to her as she looks up at you with those big beautiful brown eyes. your heart swells with much love for your daughter. “she looks so much like you.” you glance at miguel.

he softly chuckles. “she really does. hola, princesa.” miguel whispers, leaning closer towards her. a heartwarming smile plastered on his face.

conchata looks down at her granddaughter with much love. “she’s beautiful. you did amazing, mija.” she offers kiss on top of your head, making you glance up at her with a smile as a thank you.

“do you have a name for her?” one of the nurses ask.

you and miguel share a glance, pondering. even to this point, you still haven’t thought of a name for your daughter. not a single one came to your that felt right. thanking of possible names, you come up with one that brings a smile to your face.

“what about… gabriella?” you glance at miguel through glossy eyes. “in honor of gabriel.”

you notice the way his eyes widen in surprise yet filled with emotion. “r-really?” a surprise smile graces his lips as tears swell in his eyes once again.

“yes.” you smile lovingly.

tears of happiness trail down his cheeks. miguel knows gabriel would’ve love the idea and adore his niece to infinity. he would’ve been a great tío.

“gabriella is perfect.”

you smile at each other and share a kiss before looking down in adoration at your newborn daughter, your precious gabriella. your beautiful little angel. she simple stares up at you both. you and miguel can’t help but smile. hearts filled with love and joy while appreciating this loving moment as a family.

gabriella o'hara.

your daughter.

after spending a few days at the hospital, it was finally time to go home. you’re escort in a wheelchair while miguel carries gabriella in the car seat, just like he dreamed of. despite his many objections of pushing you, you didn’t want him to miss his chance of carrying your baby in the car seat and the nurse will be the one helping you. besides, you wanted to take pictures of him carrying the baby because damn he looks so attractive doing so. being a good father is a major turn on. he slipped into the dad role so effortlessly. while in recovery, miguel helped with everything he could. get you food from the cafeteria, settle down gabriella whenever she was fuzzy, help you to the bathroom, take care of the baby to let you sleep. he was a big helper and you appreciate it so much. you love that man indefinitely.

miguel is already protective of you. now with you and gabriella, oh he’s extra protective than ever. he vows to protect you both, his girls. to him, you and your daughter are fragile. he was so anxious helping you get in the car, worried that you could get hurt but you reassured him you were okay. however, you can’t blame since it’s his nature. especially him proactive of gabriella is really cute. it melts your heart seeing him being so gentle with your daughter.

when you arrived back at your apartment and carefully settled down gabriella in her crib for the first time, yours and miguel’s hearts melt at the heartwarming sight. she looked so peaceful resting comfortably in the crib that miguel built for her. tears of joy and pride in his eyes. eventually, a routine was developed that was compatible. you and miguel were pretty decent as new parents. learning to be a parent isn’t something to know right off the bat, it takes time and you learn as you go. so far you two have been doing great. taking turns of changing diapers and calming her down when she’s fuzzy during the night, mainly miguel taking the role so you can sleep. it’s been a busy yet blissful process.

one of those nights, miguel went to care for gabriella. “i got it, go back to sleep, mi reina.” he leaves a kiss on your forehead before getting up from bed, head over to the crib, and tend to his daughter.

ever so carefully, he picks her up from the crib and carries her. “shhh… it’s okay, princesa. papí’s here.” miguel coos as he quietly exits the bedroom, shuts the door, and heads to the living room.

sitting down the couch, miguel slowly rocks his daughter to calm her down. ultimately, she does the moment she feels the comfort of her father’s embrace and warmth. even though it’s completely dark, miguel can somehow see those big brown eyes staring at him. she is so tiny in his big hands, it melts his heart into pieces. rocking her back to sleep seems to working when he notices her loopy eyes. the adorable sight brings a smile to his face as he admires his baby girl. while rocking gabriella to sleep, miguel begins singing her a lullaby. a famous mexican lullaby that his mother used to sing to him. miguel still can’t believe he’s a father and has a daughter. unable to accept the fact he’s the father to this beautiful baby girl. it feels like a honor. leaning closer towards her face, miguel pauses singing to make a silent promise to be the best father to her.

days go on, navigating family life. one peaceful afternoon, it was time to feed gabriella. sitting in bed and leaning against the headboard, you undo the top of your dress to release a breast and begin breastfeeding your daughter. exiting from the bathroom, miguel walks in on the scene. warmth filled his cheeks and shyly looks away. he knows breastfeeding is a normal thing, he just feels like he’s invading your privacy. you notice his shy expression and you can’t help but giggle softly.

“no need to be shy, miguelito.” you say teasingly.

your boyfriend rolls his eyes. “i’m not… i just feel like… i’m invading a private moment.”

“you weren’t shy when you were doing the same thing a few weeks ago.” your eyebrows wiggle teasingly, making miguel groan bashfully.

“okay, okay. you got me there.” he offers a shy, guilty smile before sitting down next to you. “you’re doing amazing as a mother, mi amor.” he brings up a hand and gently rests it on your shoulder.

now you’re the shy one. even though you’ve been dating for a while, the man still makes you bashful mess with his sweet praises. “thank you, i’m trying my best. this shit is still crazy to me.”

“yeah but you’re doing amazing, you’re a natural.” his hand reaches up to caress your cheek.

you scoff. “okay, now you’re being too generous.”

“i’m simply telling the truth, preciosa.”

“well, you wanna know who’s amazing? this little girl right here.” you glance down at gabriella.

his eyes follow yours and admire his daughter, who’s too busy enjoying the milk you’re providing. “she is amazing, the most amazing girl ever.” lowering his hand from your cheek, he gently strokes her hair, feeling the softness against his fingers.

“imma make her watch all the shows and movies i watched when i was a kid.”

that makes him snort. “all of them?”

“duh, gotta show her the best, not those shitty ass shows today like cocomelon.”

miguel laughs at that. “okay, fair point. the animation of that show kinda creeps me out.”

“see?! i’m not the only one!” you exclaim but not too loud to disturb your daughter. “gabi is gonna watch spongebob so she knows all the references.”

“your knowledge in spongebob references never fails to amaze me.” miguel chuckles.

“if you didn’t grow up watching spongebob, you didn’t have a childhood. our daughter is not gonna be one of those poor kids. she’s gonna know the best.”

that elicits another chuckle from him. “i won’t argue with that, spongebob is the best.”

you beam at that, brightly smiling. “that reminds me, i want her first birthday party spongebob themed so i can dress her up as gary.”

“the snail? you want our daughter dressed up as a snail for her first birthday?” he raised a brow teasingly, unable to hold back a smile.

“uh yes! imagine how cute gabi would look dressed up in a gary onesie. she has big eyes like him. i’m already looking for onesies online.”

miguel shakes his head, smiling. god you are so adorable. “well, she’ll be an adorable gary.”

you smile then look down at your daughter, whispering. “see? it was his hat, mr. krabs. he was number one.” you and miguel break into quiet laughter. first spongebob reference of the day.

a few months have gone by. when gabriella was ready to go outside, you and miguel plan a day for a picnic at the park. it was a beautiful sunny day. you and gabriella wear matching soft pink dresses. one thing you love having a daughter is dressing up together. make her wear the cutest clothes and even match sometimes. gabriella may look like her father but she has her mother’s sense of fashion. you want your baby to be a little fashionista, just like you. miguel can’t help but stare in awe of you both. the woman of his dreams and his baby girl. his two beautiful girls wearing matching dresses. the sight melts his heart. after finding a spot and setting up everything, you enjoy your picnic as a little family. miguel set up an umbrella to protect gabriella from the sun, and you of course. gabriella was old enough to sit up on her own, enjoying her food and being adorable as always. you take many pictures with your polaroid camera, savor the memories of course.

you’ve been trying to get gabriella into fruit. you packed bunch of fruit for the picnic. strawberries, blueberries, watermelon, and oranges. she has yet to try a strawberry so you take today’s change to do so and let miguel do it. grabbing a strawberry from the container, he holds it out to gabi with a smile. the little girl stares at it as if inspecting before those tiny hands reach out and grab the fruit on her own. the small action melts both your hearts.

“pruébalo, princesa.” miguel encourages her.

gabi stares at the strawberry before taking a bite. you and miguel anticipate her reaction, prepared for a fuchi face but instead she smiled and starts babbling excitingly. both your hearts flutter.

“she likes it!” you cheer. “you like it, mi amor!” gabriella continues to babble excitingly as a response. your baby girl likes another fruit.

“bravo, princesa!” miguel cheers.

hearing your praises makes gabriella squeal more, smiling at you and miguel.

another day, you and miguel are cooking dinner. tonight you settle on enchiladas. “bidi bidi bom bom” by selena blasts through your mini speaker in the kitchen. it’s a song you can’t resist dancing to. swaying your hips to the music, tapping your feet to the beat, miguel’s calloused hands on your hips sweating along with you, and singing along. it was a mini dancing session in the kitchen. gabriella sits in her high chair observing her parents having fun, squealing and babbling happily. while cooking, you let out a squeal when two large hands pull you away from the counter and swiftly turn you around.

“miguel!” you giggle as he begins leading you into a dance. one hand holding yours and the other holding your waist, chests pressed against one another.

he simply answers with a chuckle before raising your hand and twirl you. the movement seems to excite gabriella, making her squeal happily. you and miguel look at her with smiles. someone likes seeing her parents dancing together. you want to show your daughter what love looks like. as if you both thought of the same thing, you and miguel continue dancing. squeals and laughter fills the room. it was a beautiful night, a great dinner while indulging in fun.

TWO YEARS LATER.

“hey! be careful!” you shout with a smile from the kitchen window, watching your husband chase after your daughter in the backyard. luna chases after them both, barking and tail wagging.

gabriella squeals and squirms in her father’s arms as miguel catches her. “papí!”

“got you, princesa.” miguel chuckles. “todo bien, mi reina!” he shouts back at you, offering a smile. of course he would never put his precious gabriella in danger and is always careful with her, you know it too. you just find the scene so cute.

focusing back on cutting the carrots, you glance at the pretty diamond ring adore on your ring finger. flashbacks of your wedding day from a few months ago plays through your mind.

you and miguel got engaged the year before. you both agreed to wait for marriage until gabriella was a little older and wasn’t that needy. if it was in your favor, you two would’ve gotten married right off the bat but you needed time to adjust to this new life as parents. when the time came, you took the chance.

the loud thumping of your heart rings in your ears as you pace around the room. it was an small outdoor wedding taken place at your tíos house since they own a big house enough for a wedding. it was simply close family and friends. you and miguel wanted a small simple wedding with just the people you love. the extravagant shit wasn’t your thing. it felt so surreal. you were getting married to miguel, the love of your life, finally after so long. it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for and you’re still anxious about it, which is completely reasonable.

“¿estas bein, mija?” your dad approaches.

“yeah, just a little nervous.” you offer a smile. “i just can’t believe this is finally happening.”

“i know, seeing my little girl getting married.” a thin layer of tears forms in his eyes. he also can’t believe this is happening, his youngest daughter getting married. “you look beautiful, mija.”

“gracias, papí.” you smile with teary eyes, blinking them away to not ruin your makeup.

soon, the wedding theme song begins. it was time. with your arm linked with your father’s, you walk down the aisle. your heart beat races when you see miguel standing at the altar. clad in a tuxedo and slicked back hair. god he looks so handsome. he, on the other hand, is mesmerized by your appearance. a beautiful wedding gown that makes you appear so ethereal. miguel swears an angel is walking down the aisle. it’s unbelievable this angel will be his wife, that he will be your husband. it feels like a blessing to be your husband. you never fail to take his breath away. everyone has their eyes on you but yours are focused on miguel and his on yours, as if the world is a blur and the only thing that matters is you two.

once you reach the alter and stand with miguel, the ceremony begins and everyone takes their seats. after exchanging heartwarming vows which caused some tears, it was time for ring bearer to come. everyone turns to see the cutest thing ever. gabriella dressed in a baby pink dress being carried by her tío peter in one arm and the other he holds the pillow with your wedding rings. a chorus of awws fills the area as they watch the adorable little girl down the aisle towards her parents. everyone’s heart melted, including yours and miguel’s. traditionally, it’s a little boy who is the ring bearer but you wanted your daughter to take the role. once she and peter reach the alter, gabriella immediately squeals happily the moment she recognizes her parents. another chorus of awws fills the outdoor air.

“hola, princesa.” miguel coos at her.

“hi, mi amor.” reaching out with a hand, you caress her cheek then leave a kiss on her forehead which she smiles at. “thank you, peter.”

“of course.” he offers a smile at you and miguel. peter is already an expert on handling babies since he has one of his own, mayday, who is a few months younger than gabriella.

once miguel takes the rings, peter hands back gabi to your mother and back down with his family. after saying the i do’s and slip on each other’s rings, you and miguel finally kiss as husband and wife. the crowd cheers and clasp for the newlyweds. it was a dream come true. it truly felt like a fairytale.

your heart swells with happiness at the beautiful memory. glancing up again to check on your family, they seem to having lots of fun. you can’t ask for anything more. it all seemed perfect.

later that evening after putting gabriella to sleep, you and miguel retire for the night. or so you thought. you’re already in bed by the time miguel comes from the bathroom after a shower. a soft hum escapes your lips when you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face nestled in your neck, feeling miguel’s breath against your skin. as you’re about to drift off to sleep, miguel’s hand slowly begin to roam around your body. caressing, touching, and gently groping your soft curves through your silky nightgown. his hands runs over the line of your waist, down to your hips and thighs, then back up to your sides right underneath your breast. each touch set your body on fire. that familiar pressure in between your thighs begins to grow. oh you know exactly where this is leading to and you can’t help but smile.

“very touchy tonight, huh?” you tease, relishing those large warm hands roaming over your body. miguel’s touch is your weakness.

“you’re just so beautiful. mi esposa hermosa.” he murmurs against your skin. a hint of seduction in his tone as he continues those sneaky touches.

then, you feel it. his erection pressed against the back of your thighs. your clit begins pulsating. since gabriella is asleep and thankfully a heavy sleeper, one night of fun won’t hurt. with a smile, you turn around and capture miguel’s lips with yours in a messy kiss. wrapping one arm around his neck to bring him closer as your spicy makeout session continues. a soft moan escapes your lips when his hand gently gropes one breast. the silk fabric of your nightgown against his fingertips. before you know it, miguel is on top of you and slipping off your panties before doing the same with his boxers. a shared moan mingles in the air as his cock slowly slides through your tight, wet walls. his thrust start slow, feeling each other and indulging in this intimate moment.

“té quiero.” miguel’s breath fans over your face as he continues thrusting, making sweet love to you. “mi esposa hermosa, té quiero tanto.”

“té quiero, miguel. oh~” you moan when his bulbous tip hits your sweet spot, arching your back. your nails dragging into his back, creating marks and indents.

it was passionate love-making. just you and miguel in the comfort of your bed. relishing the intimacy of your love. soft moans and groans mingle in the steamy air. eventually, his thrusts increase until it’s nothing but moans coming from your mouths. soon you both reach the pinnacle of pleasure. you let out a soft whimper when miguel releases his warm load inside you, filling up your womb to the brim. once you both recover from your highs, miguel cleans you and himself up with a towel and rejoins you back in bed. his broad chest against your back, an arm around your waist, your hand resting on top of his.

“té quiero, mi reina. you and our daughter. thank you for everything.” miguel whispers so lovingly.

“thank you for choosing us. té quiero, mi osito.”

everything was perfect. you have a beautiful family. your handsome loving husband miguel, your beautiful daughter gabriella, and your adorable dog luna. you couldn’t ask for anything better.

𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll @marshmallowsforever @ibelyss @imissubaee @demonic-bird @fandomtrash5092 ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

#⠀⠀૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა⠀˚⠀.⠀ℬ𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝒪𝑓 𝒯ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℳ𝑒𝑠𝑠⠀ ྀ⠀.⠀♡⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #military!miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #across the spiderverse

265 notes · View notes

folkling · 1 year ago

Text

SLASHED A 12 Day Spooky Season CAS Challenge 🩸💀

Hi friends! It's getting closer to one of my favorite holidays, and I thought I'd make a CAS challenge to help bring in the spooky season. I've had this challenge in mind for a while, and now is the perfect time for it. I love slasher films, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, you name it. So, that's the theme of this CAS challenge. No rules, these are your slasher film characters. Just share, tag me (I'd love to see), and have fun!

Remember, use #windbrookslashed

*update: Day 6 “The Sacrifice” now encapsulates “The Fool” (stoner/ and or comic relief) character archetype - more details in glossary*

Find a character glossary below

Character Glossary

The Final Girl

Usually the one that survives the onslaught, they give the killer a run for their money

The Jock

A douche. They’re arrogant, irresponsible, and usually one of the ones to die first.

The Bad Girl

Flirtatious, sexy, and catty to a fault. Usually stuck up. They mean well, but ultimately cares only for themselves.

The Outcast

Responsible and level-headed, they're often perceived as a "Debby Downwer".

The Academic

Nerdy, kind-hearted, and loyal. They're either finding clever ways to outwit the killer or making the cast easy prey - by accident of course.

The Sacrifice/The Fool

We care about them, they’re funny and relatable. Usually ridiculed by The Jock and The Bad Girl. As much as we care about them, they typically die a gruesome death, ultimately warning the others of just what kind of danger their in.

The Skeptic

“See it to believe it” is their motto, and by then it's usually too late.

The Meddler

If there's a demonic ritualistic book locked by key, they're usually going to find a way to pry it open. Everyone suffers because of them, everyone.

The Harbinger

A creepy old person usually warning the main cast to stay far away from whatever impending danger they seem to be crashing into.

The Detective

Thinks they know best, and the main cast hates them for this. They're always poking around, checking things out. Typically they're a blessing to The Final Girl, helping best the killer, or a curse, in which you're happy to see them die.

The Hunter

Knows the killer's weakness and the best way to beat them. The Final Girl typically teams up with them to finally nail the killer. Usually, they're considered the other final character to survive.

The Killer

Iconic. The bringer of doom. It gives them pleasure to pick of the cast, reveling in their own cat and mouse game. No matter their backstory, it always leads to slaughter in the end.

#sims 4 cas challenge #sims cas challenge #sims halloween challenge #simberleen #s4 cas challenge #sims 4 challenge #s4 challenge #sims 4 halloween #windbrookslashed

1K notes · View notes

slashericons · 2 years ago

Text

Tree Gelbman —Happy Death Day 2u (2019)

66 notes · View notes

moonshynecybin · 1 year ago

Note

if you have the time or inclination, can i ask what the deal with motogp/those boys is about? i don’t mean that in a mean way btw, im just curious and i love drama

i will try to be brief (1/4358)

SO! valentino rossi (born 16 February 1979, aquarius. italian.) is one of the most iconic people in motorsport, CERTAINLY in motogp. he's a 9 time world champion, your favorite driver's favorite driver, and is generally credited with revolutionizing the popularity of the sport by: a. being insanely good at motorcycle racing, and b. in general having a lot of fun about it. lethally charming and charismatic. all time active listening face. just a fun and funny dude that everyone pretty much likes and MANY younger riders idolize. VERY good at handling the media and his legions of cult-like fans. sometimes treated more like a god than a person. i was in the store yesterday and saw one of his themed monster energy drinks despite him retiring two years ago. his fun retirement activity is racing BMWs and running his own motogp team/training facility/cult for young italian racers. (this is where cele and bezz and basically every italian rider not named enea bastianini come from!)

so in 2011ish valentino had won 9 titles, and he decided to leave his current manufacturer and move to italian manufacturer ducati where he generally had a stone-cold terrible time. EXTENDED flop era for a couple years. any time ive watched content that covers this period everyone is so sad. so sad. anyways he GOES BACK to his old manufacturer in 2013 and is much more competitive. kind of just happy to be winning sometimes and be on the podium. 2013 is also where marc comes in. what could go wrong.

marc marquez! (born 17 february 1993, almost exactly 14 years after vale which i'm sure means nothing. also an aquarius. spanish.) childhood sports idols include: dani pedrosa, VALENTINO ROSSI.

marc carved his way up through the feeder championships until casey stoner unexpectedly retired at the end of the 2012 season leaving a seat empty on a VERY good bike for his rookie season. rocked up and was immediately VERY good at winning and very good at being a crazyinsane person on track that made people mad at him lol. hilarious habit of pissing people off via on-track crimes that i really enjoy. motogp riders are already crazy (they do death sport) but marc is famous for taking risks no one else will. basically if he's not winning, he's crashed out or he's maybe crashed YOU out. he wins the championship as a rookie (insane) and the next year's championship as well. heir apparent to the throne. sweet and goofy but is now known as one of the more reserved riders with the press. probably because of all this drama tbh. undisputed GOAT of acting like a slut on camera

throughout 2013-2014, marc and valentino had a good relationship! marc very clearly idolizes him and is like. bowled over completely with delight every time valentino looks his way. vale likes him! theyre buds! truly an endless well of pictures of vale explaining something with his hands and marc babygirling at him. highly recommend checking out @pgaslys every rosquez podium tag for contextual brain damage. insane times.

(IT SHOULD BE NOTED: before the 2015 season marc visits valentino at his practice track in italy, where they compete to break the track record and almost kill each other bc they are so pathologically competitive. APPARENTLY, marc showed up with some official mechanics and valentino was a little pissed off because it was supposed to be a like. fun thing. and to marc winning is the most fun! if you dont come to win why come at all! anyways marc breaks the track record and credits that to cooling their relationship a bit. good post about it here.) here they are that day:

so what could go wrong, right? WELL. valentino has a chance to win his tenth title in 2015. marc is on a flop bike and crashed a bunch so he's not in the championship conversation but vale is leading the standings from the jump, with his main opponent being jorge lorenzo. i think he really wanted that tenth, and dedicated himself to the season in a way he hadnt really ever before (he was a very effortless competitor when he was young. gym-adverse. king).

marc and him start to get into some scraps along the way, notably in argentina (where they made contact and marc crashed out), assen (where they made contact AGAIN and vale won the race), and phillip island (marc won. GREAT race available here for free). phillip island sees vale finishing P4 and jorge lorenzo finishing ahead of him in P3, reducing his championship lead by quite a bit. no real indication of any tension during these races, and they are asked about it!

this is where valentino's delulu era begins! basically, ahead of the next race (🔥🔥SEPANG 2015🔥🔥) in the pre-race press conference, he goes after marc, saying he was deliberately sabotaging valentino in phillip island because marc wanted jorge to win. in valentino's mind. marc wants jorge to win because a. they are both spanish (??) and b. it would mean marc has to win less titles to equal valentino's total. record scratch. freeze frame.

everyone (including marc!) thinks valentino is joking at first bc that is bananascrazyinsane. he was not joking. (it should be noted valentino STILL thinks this lol.) anyways marc is completely blindsided. he thought they were good! yeah they've been chippy on track but that's racing!! truly like. 22 years old and your friend (AND CHILDHOOD IDOL.) is calling you a snake in front of your face with NO prior warning to the entire motogp establishment writ large including your coworkers and REPORTERS. valentino wont even look at him the entire time. the press conference is available here on vimeo. excruciating gifsets of marc's very stiff bewildered PR smile found here.

anyways so. the race. marc is uh. pissed off. he's stuck to valentino like GLUE the entire time and they trade places a bunch of times. now marc is kind of famous for being a little asshole on track anyways, but its not like he's gonna get out of valentino's way and just let him pass after what he said in that press conference so. hand in unlovable hand <3. truly very fun to watch imo even with the sword of damocles hanging over them. marc is fucking on one the entire race and basically refuses to give valentino an inch until vale gets so fed up with his antics that um. well. it certainly looks like he kicked him. vale says he didnt, and that his leg accidently made contact with marc's bike. marcs says. he fucking kicked me. judge for yourself here!

so valentino gets hauled in front of race direction and penalized for the next race (the deciding race for the championship). he has to start from the back of the grid and it kills his chance at a tenth title stone dead. vale places the blame squarely on marc's shoulders and his legions of fans decide marc is public enemy number 1. him and jorge have to get security at the next race because of death threats, someone tries to break into marc's childhood home back in spain, marc's mom throws away all of marc's valentino merchandise from when he was a kid. vale says nothing.

but the thing about marc. is that he loves very hard and chooses his people pretty carefully. didnt really move out of his tiny hometown until he turned 30 and also made his baby brother move in with him kind of guy. so all this is not really enough for him to let go of vale entirely! 2016 is where the pain lives! bc marc is still reaching out and vale himself stays pretty cold for a couple years. they seem to faintly reconcile for a bit but its not anywhere like it was before sepang.

the real nail in the coffin is argentina 2018. another insane race where marc has to start from the back and goes on a rampage through the field and crashes out like three people. i cant remember. this race is also available on youtube for free its very entertaining. every five minutes marc does something insane. vale is one of the people marc crashes out and afterwardshe goes on a big rant about how marc is destroying the sport and is actively dangerous. marc goes to valentino's garage immediately after the race to apologize and vale doesnt even look at him. he gets turned away at the door after vale's best friend/assistant/henchman yells in his face1!!! and thats kind off all she wrote in terms of reconciliation

anyways that's where we are! they are both very much not over it. vale goes on podcasts and is like. in 30 years i will still be mad, im literally never going to get over it it was such a big and unfair thing and i think about it all the time like it was yesterday. and marc (lying) says as time goes by i dont even think about it :) and i care about valentino less and less :))) but yes he hurt me deeply lol. CANNOT stress enough how much this entire thing is now inextricably liked to both of their legacies. the two arguable GOATs of a sport had an epic fleetwood mac-style beatles breakup divorce and everyone wants to talk about it allllll day long including me :)

additional context! really recommend checking out marc's little docuseries he put out this year about his recent struggles with injury. he is so not right in the head and it goes over the valentino drama in ep3. theres also hitting the apex (2015) which goes over the 2013 season (marc's rookie season) and is a really good introduction to all the major players at the time. its like less than 2 hrs long so its not too much of a commitment

also recommend following scholars @babynflames, @its-always-silly-season, @baking-soda, and @f1vegas as well as many others im forgetting rn bc its 2am!

#truly. i am new here. so grain of salt etc #motogp #callie speaks #asks #long post #rosquez #primer

1K notes · View notes

yurinaa-world · 6 months ago

Note

I see your requests are open so give me a chance!

Can you please do something like Jiaoqiu,Moze,Aventurine and Jing yuan with a Kyouka like (From bsd)reader?

Pls...

"𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Jiaoqiu, Moze, Aventurine & Jing yuan x Gender-neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader that's like Kyouka

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: I'll always give you a chance anon!

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

He’s always chided you about those minor injuries you show up with, even if it may be a scratch on your skin, it can get worse, and he rather do anything in his power to make a simple scratch on your skin disappear, as if wasn’t there at all.

Now, no different than before, he even force feeds so you regain all your strength even when you decline his offer, he still won’t take no for it, not one single excuse either! Why must he love someone who so willing to throw theirlife away?! Very iconic...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You don’t have to do this...” you say blankly, staring at the bowl of food he’s made for you. You’re grateful about everything, better than when he was freaking out over the copious amounts of blood on your body and clothes, most of which wasn’t even yours, to begin with, just minor scratches here and there (not even caused by anyone, just by your carelessness).

Forcing you into a shower immediately to get the scent of death off of your body with a nice hot shower, before fixing your injuries (just a couple of bandaids here and there, nothing big as he makes his reaction out to be).

Now you can hear the emotion in his sigh as he makes something extra for you to eat. “It’s almost like you’re living to starve yourself,” He worried, stirring the pot gently, you can’t help but feel guilty about how he’s feeling, guilty and torn about how worried he is about you.

Take a large spoonful of food from the bowl to at least give a try to whatever he’s made for you and it’s truly not so bad, taking more and more spoonfuls as the flavour of the food gets better.“It’s really good” You smiled, making him so joyful, seeing you give the food a chance and like it.

“Isn’t it better than starving yourself?”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

You both are quiet, silent love is what you both share. He can’t help but take your hand and kiss the top of your knuckles without any hesitation or fluster in his eyes as he gazes into your own. He has no fear of directly showing his love before leaving for the day.

He knows everything, even when you secretly glance at desserts displayed outside a bakery, maybe taking more of a glance—which never goes unnoticed by him, you have such a sweet tooth it’s obvious.

Every day he brings you that cake you’ve always been looking at, just seeing that happy expression on your face when you see the cake in his hands always makes him go soft for you. (It might just be his way to avoid you noticing his injuries).

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You can put the knife away.”

He held your wrist firmly, just so that knife in your hand wouldn’t stab him in the face from your reflexes—he really shouldn’t set your reflexes off with his silent footsteps—your ears were made to hear even the sound of pen dropping—he might just be asking for a death wish.

Seeing your eyes go from murderous into soft ones as you sigh, realizing it’s him, prompts him to let go of your wrist, and watches you put down that dull kitchen knife.

“You should be more careful, I could’ve killed you.” You chided. No doubt that you could leave a deadly injury even when that dull knife is in your hands—even the dullest of objects you could make into the sharpest of weapons.

“I got you a gift.”

Revealing his other hand to a boxed-up cake from that new bakery that opened up in the Xianzhou Yaoqing you’ve been interested in—shocking he even noticed that quickly, you didn’t even mention it to him. Seeing your expression light up as if you were a kid receiving a huge gift, even holding the boxed-up cake like a kid.

“Thank you. Let me cut this properly so we eat this together” You smile brightly, ear to ear, watching you skip to the kitchen.

He was glad you were happy with this gift, and he couldn’t allow your happiness to be ruined by a foolish injury of his—a worried expression if you had noticed his arm bleeding through his previous bandages—trying to quickly bandage a new wound on his arm before meeting you in the kitchen.

He can’t help but wrap his arms around you while you just get a spoon and eat right from the cake instead of cutting it—it looked too good!—“It’s so good,” You mutter, before taking another spoonful of that soft dessert.

“Thank you, Moze.”

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

Your little obsession with little trinkets, makes him laugh whenever you stop in your tracks in the middle of the sidewalk just to look at the little fragile trinket displayed behind a window. Your eyes light immediately, which prompts him to take you into the shop, so you can buy something (even if you refuse).

He could buy you the entire trinket shop if you truly wanted, yet it’s quite fun following you around while you stop to pick the little trinket in your hand, holding it in your palms like it were an animal.

Showing him the little thing and asking him what he thought of it, before quickly moving on to see a different part of the store like a needy child with a craze to see anything.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I could just buy you the entire shop.”

His words just went one ear and out the other—you disliked too much of his spoiling, it made you lose yourself, in case you needed to protect him, one it enough for you—while you stayed crouched down looking at a little bunny trinket on the bottom shelf. Which just boosts his grin, watching you pop back up with the little thing in your palms as if it were alive.

“Doesn’t it look so cute?” A pretty smile accompanied by a happy tone of voice makes him weak for you—irresistible as always—and he just goes soft. “It does look cute, yet it seems like it's missing something,” he smiles before giving you a confused look, the thumb on his chin just puts the whole act together.

“What’s missing?”

“Its lover, of course.” Saying like it's fact, which causes the light bulb in your head to shine brightly, before looking back at the shelf to look for another trinket that matches. He can’t help but to one out for you to match with, a little dolphin with a smiley face.

“How about this one?”

“It matches perfectly!”

“But…” He seems to get more confused.

“But?”

Forgive him for taking a little advantage of you, watching you lean in closer with your whole body. “Her friends are missing.” Was This his way of making you spend more, maybe? Not as if you're declining, so it’s a win-win in his books.

💫𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈"

He’s quite the lover, dozing off whenever he can, which just leaves you to gently wake him up and take him back to bed so he doesn’t catch a cold.

When you drag him back to bed just to be faced with no pillows, ah…how could this have happened…(orchestrated by a certain general, of course)..there’s nothing you could find which just leads you to lay him on your lap so he doesn’t hurt his neck without having anything under his head.

It was an enjoyable feeling when he feels his head on your lap as he wakes up from his slumber, he might just dig his face more into your lap. A general abusing his knowledge to have you to himself, not the first or last.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Gently caressing his hair while a peaceful expression was spread upon his face, known to you, Jing Yuan was half awake just enjoying the amazing feeling—it was too good to let his tired body let go of—he forced himself to stay up, only to be caught by his selfish desire to want more before slumber gets to him.

“Is this comfortable for you?” You whisper, leaning down to caress his cheek with your hand, his lidded eyes staring back at you—as if it were a scene out of a romance novel. “More than comfortable.” He yawned, before digging the side of his face into your thigh as much as he could.

“Jing Yuan.”

A worrisome expression spreads on your face, prompts him to grab your hand and lean more into your touch—he’ll any type of physical affection he can get from you. “You shouldn’t be sleeping outside so leisurely, there might be assassins or spies who would take their chance.” You fretted, while he didn’t seem to take words only enjoying the feeling that he’s waited for.

“You worry too much, soon the hairs on your head might turn gray,” he hummed, such worrier you are, yet any man wishes to have such caring lovers as someone like you. He doesn’t want that worried look on your face to stay present for long, he gently moves your hand until your fingertips are on his lips, pressing a kiss on those precious hands of yours.

“I'm only teasing, I’ll be fine.”

347 notes · View notes

giuseppe-yuki · 1 month ago

Text

lovers in every timeline

carlos sainz x reader

w.c.: 3.6k

warnings: reference to sex, curse words, probably wildly inaccurate historical portrayals, mentions of death

summary: where, when, how - did it really matter as long as you were in his arms?

a/n: happy valentine's day!! sending hearts, kisses, and flowers to everyone :)) mwah <3 💋 -anais

picture credits from pinterest :)

rome, 80 CE

"carlos!" you whisper, head peeking through a crack in the decorated bronze door.

a gold gladiator's helmet, complete with a crimson-dyed plume, stares back at you, from its spot on a crudely carved wooden desk across from the door. a man's figure is outlined by the sun streaming through the windows in the well lit room, back facing you. he fiddles with a leather strap holding his sleek golden armour chest-plate together.

when he hears the lilt of your singsong voice, he whips around, as fast as an horse.

carlos' familiar face splits into a grin when he sees you in the doorway.

"venus mea!" he gasps, abandoning his original task of tightening his armour, and hurriedly crossing the room to greet you.

the pads of his worn, but still soft fingers brush against the back of your neck as his lips attaches themselves to your own. maybe it's the lengthy time you spent away from him, but he tastes sweeter than normal, like honeyed wine or sun-ripened grapes.

a giddy smile stays on your face when you both pull away to regain the breaths that were stolen from your lungs.

feeling a like you need a bit more, you reach out a finger to trace the molded gold plating that accentuated the muscles on his body. "so - carlitos, what did you think about my letters?" you ask, reaching out a finger to trace the molded gold plating that accentuated the muscles on his body.

it's a loaded question, of course, considering the contents of the said letters you had sent him during his time starting as gladiator had a few intimate descriptions that would probably make your own mother faint.

"i- i-" he starts, most likely thinking of the sentences that your reed pens had inked into the papyrus in the dead of night when you were longing for his touch.

you take pleasure in watching the pupils in his golden brown eyes enlarge as your hand moves closer and closer to-

carlos suddenly grasps your hand and pulls it away before you can touch him like you so desperately want to.

"i have my- my duel in the colosseum soon- the emperor commands me to-"

the way he shakes lightly, as if holding back his urges, betrays his words as he holds your gold jewelry covered hand an arm's length away from himself.

you rescind your hand, pouting at his words. yes, you understood he had to focus for the upcoming duel, but you also haven't seen him for so long.

as if to distract himself from your persuasive wiles, he turns his attention back to adjusting his leather buckle and slipping his iconic golden helmet onto his head.

"after," he promises, talking your hand and pressing a chaste kiss to it. "it'll be quick anways - some rookie gladiator named olivarious - and then we can do like you said in those letters."

you laugh. he always thought like a winner.

"i will be waiting, my champion."

england, 1066 CE

"carlos sainz vasquez de castro," your court herald announces, voice echoing through the gilded throne room. "duke of-"

"yes, yes," you say flippantly, waving your hand dismissively. "i know- thanks."

you turn your attention back to the man in front of you.

magically, the heavy, jewel-encrusted crown atop your head stays still when you move forward in your plush seat to peer at him. the strands of pearls on your neck along with your ruby earrings clack against one another as you shift.

it is obvious the way his eyes rake over your body, no doubt taking into account the countless priceless jewels hanging from your body, along with your gown made the most expensive silks in europe.

you watch with amusement from your platformed throne as he bows deeply, the gold awards lining his own furs and rich patterned clothing clinking.

"your majesty," he addresses you in a lilting, accented tone.

a slight nod from your head approves his presence.

"what to you have to offer me, lord carlos?"

he snaps his fingers, and one of his advisors hurry over with a bottle.

one of your own advisors gently takes it from carlos' hands, before making his way up the carpeted stairs and places it in your awaiting arms.

upon closer inspection, it's entirely made of pink-tinted glass, complete with a heart made entirely of rare red glass. it must have cost a fortune to make, but you knew carlos didn't lack such money.

"rose and lavender perfume," he explains. "only the best for your majesty."

gently, you pull the cork off, and waft the smell of the perfume towards your face.

the entire court awaits your reaction.

when the scent of the perfume registers in your brain, you realize the perfume isn't rose or lavender at all. instead, it's a familiar honey and vanilla - the same refined cologne smell as a certain duke that you often had naked and twisted in your sheets.

from your spot on your throne, you can see carlos' eyes twinkle mischievously, as he knows he is the only person that can get away with putting his own cologne in a bottle and gift it to the queen.

"lovely," you note aloud. "the rose fragrance balances quite nicely with the lavender."

carlos nods, satified, before leaving the court with a bow to you and with his advisors in tow.

the court bursts into chatters, most likely your ladies in waiting discussing how to get their hands on their own rose and lavender perfume scents.

as you begin to suggest a walk in the gardens to discuss some "important political treaties" with lord carlos, the herald next to you clears his throat.

your head snaps towards him, annoyed at him for cutting you off.

"your- your majesty," he stutters out, unused to the burden of your attention. "but- you have a lunch planned with his majesty the king on the upcoming banquet- i don't think it's wise to-"

"are you telling me how to run my court?" you snap at him, all of a sudden filled with a rage.

his eyes widen as the court goes silent. licking his dry lips nervously, he shakes his head.

"no, no, your majesty, i was just- a suggestion- please-"

"alright, you're dismissed," you say quickly, not wanting to hear his pathetic excuses. "ladies, help me to 'the garden.'"

even with your pounds of jewelry and expensive silks weighing you down, you float quite elegantly out of the throne room with the help of a few of your ladies-in-waiting.

they stay mostly silent as you walk towards a door decorated with bunches of painted flowers and greenery. before you open the door, seraphina, one of your younger ladies-in-waiting, touches your arm lightly. "your grace, you mustn't," she cries. "the king- if he catches you this time, he'll-"

the implications of her words hang heavy in the air.

you shrug them off, however.

"i don't give a damn. i will lay with who i please," you state plainly.

when you push the door open, exactly who you expect is laying on the velvet covers.

carlos breezes over to you, one hand automatically fluttering towards the cotton ties of your corset.

"my queen," he breathes into your ear, gently untying the knots that your ladies-in-waiting had painstakingly tied hours before.

florence, 1492 CE

"carlos, is his name." your maestro states. "he will be our model this workshop."

you pick up your charcoal as he continues to lecture on three-dimensionality, chiaroscuro, and how that it could be applied when sketching models like carlos.

the other students in the class listen aptly to your maestro, eyes trained on how he waves his hand over the way the model's hair fluffs up a certain way, creating shadows, or how the curve of the model's jaw is excellent for practice in drawing three-demensionality.

you know, of course. without looking up, you know how to sketch the soft strands of his dark brown-black hair, how to shape out his thick eyebrows and stupidly big chocolate brown eyes, how to outline his pillowy pink lips, etch the light stubble on his chin and jawline, how to trace his thick neck, how map out the bulging muscles on his arms and abdomen, how to illustrate his long fingers that were dusted with hair, and how to draw the way his loose breeches hang around his hips.

you know because you've drawn him hundreds of times for practice, sprawled on your shared bed, reading underneath a tree, or even playing with his puppy, piñon. you know, because, well, he's yours.

when your maestro lights the waxy white taper candle to lighten up the rapidly darkening room, only then do you dare peer over your canvas to look at the model.

carlos looks back at you with a sparkle in his eyes.

he can't move, of course, to ensure accuracy and detail for the other artists. but the way he twitches his eyebrow at you automatically makes a soft smile spread across your face.

the candle flickers, half-way burnt, but still stays kindled when you start mixing your oil paints to create the perfect shades for your shadow and three dimensional study.

by the time the nub of a candle wavers and flutters out into a waft of smoke, the stars have begun to show in the sky, visible from the open window behind carlos. your maestro and the other students have already went home hours ago, half-done canvases littering the room.

when it's clear you are finished, carlos finally moves from his spot.

"you're not going to say anything about me modeling today?" he asks, head tilting like piñon when he's confused.

your silence speaks volumes.

"i know, i know, you're just jealous that the other painters will be looking at me and making paintings of me that are going to hang in some famous collectors' private collection," he jokes, making you roll your eyes.

"mine is better anyways," you say bluntly, rolling your canvas around for carlos to see.

he is about to make another joke, but his eyes grow wide at your artwork, practically glowing in the moonlight.

"is that- is that me?" he whispers, hands barely skating over the still-wet oil paint slathered on the canvas.

you crack a smile at his reaction.

"no, i actually decided to paint my secret lover that looks suspiciously like you but not quite," you shoot back.

unfazed, he still stares, wide eyed, at the practically lifelike strands of hair on his portrait, and meticulously drawn eyes that look like they were about to blink back at him. the painting-carlos gazes gently at the audience - a look of love - accompanied with a knowing smirk painted across his face.

walking over to stand by him, you press a kiss to the side of the real-carlos.

"this is how i see you- whenever you look at me," you say gently. "maybe now you can see how you look from my point of view."

caribbean sea, 1717 CE

"carlos!" alex groans exaggeratedly. "mpphh! please!"

you feel your cheeks heat up at the sound of alex's mocking words.

"that is exactly how you both sounded last night when i was trying to get some beauty sleep!" he snaps. "i could barely get through handling the ropes and almost fell off the crow's nest because i didn't get enough sleep!" he continues, rubbing at his eyes as if to prove his point.

carlos' strong arms loop around your waist and squeezes you comfortingly from your spot perched on his lap.

as alex continues his rant about how it should be plain decency to do your "nasty copulation" 500 miles away from the nearest human instead of one wall away, carlos graciously allows you to bury your face into the crook of his neck in embarrassment.

maybe that's why franco purposefully avoided eye contact with you this morning and logan hurried past you when you tried asking him a question about rations.

"whatever cabron," carlos shoots back. "you're just jealous you didn't have enough guts to talk to that stupid british sailor i know you were eyeing up at port last week."

hearing this, alex leaps up from his place on a barrel near the middle of the room starts to storm over to carlos' place on a crudely carved wooden chair propped at the back of the room.

carlos doesn't move an inch, knowing that although alex was tall and dangerous looking with his sword hanging in his scabbard, there was no way he would dare swing at carlos and his girl.

"he's not stupid- you're fucking stupid." he retorts. "and, by the way, just in case you were too dumb to comprehend, his name is geo-"

"enough!" a voice speaks up from the doorway.

you turn to find captain james, standing there, looking more pissed than you had ever seen before.

"why are we fighting??"

carlos speaks up.

"alex started it! i did absolutely nothing!"

enraged, alex snips back.

"well, i was just making an statement on how rude it was for carlos and his girlfriend to be fuc-"

"alright, alright, alex, you can stop right there," james cuts in before the conversation starts heating up again. "carlos, go take your girl and go clean the deck while i talk to alex."

happy to leave the conversation, carlos leaps up, simultaneously grabbing you from your place on his knee to throwing you over his shoulder.

you squeal something about your dress flipping up, while carlos laughs, leaving a seething alex and a slightly annoyed captain james vowles.

practically only one slab of wood on the whole deck gets cleaned before you both give up, and instead sit at the edge of the ship underneath the stars. they glitter like diamonds, winking like they knew some secret that mere mortals like you weren't allowed know.

next to you, carlos is close enough where you can feel his body heat around your body and the slight pitter-patter of his heart. the steady rhythm lulls you in slowly, making your eyes droop lower, lower-

"i have something for you," carlos says suddenly, breaking the silence.

you force your eyes to pry open.

from his pocket, your boyfriend extracts a heart-shaped object.

your eyes fly open, all traces of sleep erased when you realize what is in his hand. a pure ruby, shaped like a heart. in the corner sits five bluntly carved letters, "c s v d c" - his initals.

when carlos slips it into your hands, you hold it tight, like it could disappear at any moment. even in the faint moonlight, it glows a deep red, redder than the curling edges of bonfires, redder than any pomegranate-rind red dye, and redder than the blood of those you both have slayed.

"you didn't kill anyone to get this, did you?" you ask, half-joking and half-not.

carlos snickers.

"of course not, mi amor- i'm not a monster," he replies, as if he didn't just kill a man with his own bare hands a few days ago in a raid when the a shopkeeper tried laying his hands on you. "i simply slipped it into my pocket when the stupid merchant at the port wasn't looking.

you smile at him, as wide as you can, and press a rough kiss to his stubbled cheek.

he hums contently, patting your hands where you clutch at the rare gem.

"so, god forbid, if one day i am gone, you will still know my heart stays with you."

monaco, current times

"carlos sainz and his girlfriend have approached the building," you hear a suited bodyguard hiss into a walkie-talkie.

you roll your eyes. they were always sooo dramatic. monaco was basically chock full of the world's richest and most talented stars. who really gave a fuck if carlos sainz and his girlfriend were visiting a museum on a tuesday afternoon??

even the valet guy seemed unphased as carlos handed him the keys to his daytona sp3.

the museum's state of the art white exterior looms over you both as you approach the front door, advertising the latest special collections: the formula racing collection and the lovers collection.

"the lover's collection seem pretty cool," you note as carlos opens the door for you to pass through. "but, we can obviously also visit the racing collec-"

"carlos sainz and his girlfriend are inside the building," the suited bodyguard practically screams into his walkie-talkie, having somehow appeared inside the building without you both realizing.

carlos glares at him.

"what the hell is your problem, dude? can we look around in peace please?"

under both you and carlos' watchful eyes, the bodyguard squints suspiciously before sliding away out of view.

"anyways," your boyfriend says, sounding exasperated, "yeah, we can of course visit the lover's collection first- if you'd like!"

after a few wrong turns into a rather interesting exhibit on dung beetles, and an eye-opening one about jellyfish, you finally turn into a large room decorated with pink, red, silver, and white decorations, a scattering of hearts, and a banner announcing:" the lover's collection."

many families stroll around, looking at the multiple collections, so you decide to check out the first part of the exhibit that was open: several pieces of papyrus papers drenched in blank inked letters.

honestly, the papyrus looked like it is on the cusp of disintegration and the ink looked like it was one blow away from flying off the paper, so it was good that it was housed under a sturdy pane of glass.

as you admire the precise strokes of the latin letters on the scroll, carlos strays to the side and looks carefully on the the exhibition label hidden under a sheet of paper that is labelled ominously, "warning, letter translations."

he takes one look before turning an alarming scarlett red shade.

"are you- are you okay?" you ask, wondering what was possibly on the paper for him to turn redder than ferrari's livery.

"er, yeah," he says, gesturing awkwardly at the letter translations.

you take a peek.

oh. maybe his reaction was reasonable.

at the top, it clarifies that they were letters from a young woman, in roman times, to her gladiator lover.

the first letter starts, my dear, i lay here thinking of you with my hand between my thig-

you put the warning sign back atop the museum label, feeling a bit embarrassed as well.

"my nickname might be chili, but that was a little bit too spicy for me..." your boyfriend jokes, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

"let us just move on to the next one, shall we?" you declare, dragging carlos to the next piece on display - a pale pink perfume bottle.

the museum label isn't covered this time, thank god.

it reads, this perfume bottle belonged to a queen in the 1060s. it was gifted to her by a duke in her court. it is presumed they were lovers. however, they were both beheaded by order of the king several years later for unknown reasons. to the side, you can smell a recreation of the scent that was in the bottle. it was said to be rose and lavender scented perfume.

"interesting," carlos notes. he leans forwards towards the display case where it says, "smell here" in big letters.

you lean forward by default too, taking a waft of the perfume.

"weird," you comment. "that lowkey smells like honey and vanilla, but maybe that's just me."

carlos just shrugs.

"i thought that smelled like my cologne i use back home in madrid, so maybe we are both wrong."

before long, you arrive at a third piece of renaissance art on display. it's a man, looking longingly- or is it lovingly? towards the audience, mouth curved in a mischievous smile. several people take pictures, and there is even an art student sketching it into her notebook.

the subject of the painting has dark hair and dark eyes, reminding you a little of-

"carlos, don't you think that guy in the painting looks like you?"

your boyfriend turns around towards you, having been momentarily distracted by a stray silver heart balloon floating up to the ceiling.

"huh?" he says, looking over.

he takes a few seconds to give the painting a once-over before responding.

"do i look like that?" he questions, looking towards you. "the-" he points towards the figure- "the hair and the expression and everything?"

"um, lightly brushed by melancholy?" you state in an obvious tone, "uh, yeah!"

carlos flashes you a weird look.

"if you say so."

you both move on to one of the last displays - an enormous pure ruby heart, with a crude carving of "c s v d c" on the corner.

"assumed gift from a pirate sailor to an unknown person, theorized to be a lover. his initials are carved on the ruby heart. uncovered from a shipwreck on a caribbean island," carlos reads from the plaque.

"that's kind of tragic," you remark. "the pirate sailor's name- well, his initals- lives on but whoever his lover is will never be known again."

carlos frowns.

"yeah, that is kind of sad," he expresses. "i wonder what his name was though.. c. s. v. d. c..."

the intials click in your head the same time it does in his.

"holy cow, what if his name was carlos sainz vasquez de castro??" he just about yells, earning a few glares from a few guests nearby.

you shush him hurriedly.

"okay, carlos, mr. tinfoil theorist- like you would ever survive being a pirate. besides, it probably stands for clueless, stubborn, very dull carlos."

"hey!" he yelps, clearly offended, before you have to drag him out of "the lover's exhibition" before he causes he scene.

"anyways," he sniffs exaggeratedly, when you both change courses towards the formula racing exhibition, "i'm just going to pretend you didn't just call me clueless, stubborn, and very dull."

he turns towards you, suddenly becoming serious. "i'm glad though, that we saw that. there were so many lifetimes- i'm glad i met you in this one."

taglist: @ellelabelle

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #cs55 x y/n #cs55 x reader #cs55 x you #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you

120 notes · View notes

solar4seekstron · 4 months ago

Text

Trapped 150 followers special!

Tf1!SG!Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Reader Oneshot

Introduction Movie Oneshot Masterlist

Content: Orion pax becomes Optimus Prime and with that power he becomes your Conjunx. You don’t find out his true colors until it’s too late. At least…that’s what you tell yourself.

TW/Tags: Toxic Relationship, Manipulation, mention of Pregnancy, mild dubcon/noncon, threats, mild cursing, death, couple sex scenes (will be in purple if uncomfortable), OP is loyal but evil, I think that’s all??

Note: The reader is basically the same in the regular universe. I just got this idea because I saw some cool art with their SG versions. This fic is pretty dark so please read TW/Tags if you are uncomfortable. I have been cooking this one up for a while so I hope you enjoy! In my stories when the reader is GN! They both have a spike and valve since they’re both genders and genderless. So they can get pregnant and get other gn or femmes pregnant.

You were best friends with the iconic duo. Although D was a bit of a cry baby. You were always so gentle with him. And had to scold Orion when he would make fun of him. You were even used to Orion's flirts and quick remarks towards you. You were like a mix between the two being both strong and kind.

You always had a strong personality and quiet when it came to your actions. You are gentle but tougher than what most people would expect you to be.

Overtime you and D became more like siblings if anything.And Orion mostly kept to himself unless he wanted to hang with you two. Even at times placing both of his cervos on your hips when you two would be talking to each other.

At times when it was just you and Orion. He would always flirt and mak you smile. Even when he got touchy at times. You dint mind. You just wanted him and D to be happy. You did have a bit of a crush on him.

You wont lie. But you didn’t always agree with him and you didn’t really know how to deal with them.

Youre certain he has a good heart and you know he has feelings for you as well. He even started courting you a few days before he disappeared.

He became intimate with you one day when he asked you to go with him to the sign for the Iacon 5000 to just “Hang Out.” You weren’t against it. To finally feel his embrace was wonderful. And he was so gentle. That was the start of his courtship.

And the next day made a promise to you as Disclocure. To always protect you and keep you by his side. His Prefference by showing that he truly sees and treats D as his own brother.

The next day he was to give his devotion as the final part of your courtship….but..After a day though they disappeared…Until that day.

When the events happened you weren’t able to fully know what they were talking about but just their actions told a story…

You didn’t know who to believe and you just tried you best to find out what happened after you had to watch one of your best friends leave with the high guard. You were spark broken. After some time some guards found you as you spoke with the crowed. They took you by force and flew you to the tower that once belong to Sentinel.

Now belonged to the city its new leader Optimus Prime.

As you made your way in you noticed Elita and a blue bot with yellow shades glare at you as they leaved the room. Once you entered you realized it’s just you and Optimus Prime. His back to you. When he turned to you he was holding a data pad and had a grin on his face.

“Ah Y/N my closest friend.” He sat in one of the chairs. “Please come. Have a seat.”

You walked forward and pulled the chair next to him and takes a seat. He watched you with a grin and once you sat down he spoke.

“So old friend. Was worried I’d never see you again.”

His cervo rested on top of yours on the table as he smiled down at you. His optics narrowing down at you as he grinned. You decided to just get to the point.

”Ori-Optimus. What really happened that day. That moment with D…” His grin was soon gone. He then closed his optics for a moment then opened them. His cervo gently squeezing your cervo as he leaned a bit closer.

“He betrayed us. He’s nothing but a traitor to you and me. He wanted to continue to enslave us!”

He lied as he stared down at you. You took in his words and sighed as you turned your cervo to hold his. “I…I just can’t believe it….”

Optimus optics narrowed. “You know, we are no longer slaves to our city. I’ve been thinking.” He then held your cervo then kiss the back of it as his optics stared at you.

”Will you be mine sweetspark? Be a part of my life as I will for yours?” You only stared at him as you looked at your cervo in his… “I…..”

Is this the right call? He’s devoted to you and it shows… almost and he only stared at you. You then descide..

“Yes. I’ll be your Conjunx Optimus.” You gave him your usual gentle smile. He loved that smile. He created for that smile.

He gently pulled you to him. As you stood up he set you on his lap and gently held you. His cervos on your thigh and aft as he still looked down at you as your cervos rest on his shoulders. “Let’s make it official now, shall we sweetspark.” He gently pulled your frame against his.

Both frames now pressed together as your dermas connects. You both stared at each other for moment until you both closed your optics the room was quiet as you both heard nothing but your kisses.

One of your cervos gently holding the side of his helm as his cervo that was once on your aft move to your lower back to keep you pressed against him.

You both two stayed in this moment for a while longer. After what felt like minutes he tried to press his glossa against your dermas asking for access. But before you can accept. The doors opened. You turned to look at the entrance of the doors much to Optimus annoyance.

“What do you want Elita?”

She then speaks of how they need to get started with rebuilding the city. Optimus rolled his optics. Your frame no longer against him as you listened to her. Who just seemed annoyed to even see you right now.

His cervo now resting on your aft once more as his helm rests on his fists as he listens to her. He’d then sit a little straighter as Goldbug walks in and starts to pick a fight with Elita. You were basically sitting on his thigh as your cervos rested on your own lap.

”I should probably go…I’m kinda hungry.” You got off his lap and stood as the two continued to bicker. His cervos gently grabbing your waist and the other your arm.

”Wait hold up sweetspark no need to go. We can both grab some energon together.”

He said softly as he stood up bringing you a bit closer as he stared down at you. You only looked up at him with an unsure expression. “Optimus you are a leader now. I’ll bring you some treats on my outing, alright?” you leaned up and gently kisses his dermas as his expression seemed more annoyed.

You then walked off as he stared at you. Passing by the two and walking through the door.

———————————————————————————

After some time you returned through the doors to the meeting room. You knew he was in there thanks to the guards letting you know. When you walked in you didn’t see Elita or goldbug. And Optimus was speaking tp a few other high councils that you knew who were once miners.

They were speaking and when you peaked through the door. They seemed to still be busy and slowly closed the door.

You noticed Elita and Goldbug weren’t there. You were then told by one of the guards that you and Optimus have your own sleeping quarters. He led you there and told you by orders you must wait there. And so you did. Looking out the window. “I hope his meeting is going alright..”

After a few hours. The door finally opened. You head down the stairs in the apartment as Optimus walk in. Locking the door behind him as he walked past the kitchen area and living room. As you got down stairs you treated him with snacks you got when on your day out. He seemed out of it. “Would you like to lay down. You look exhausted.”

He only stared down at you and slowly nodded a small smile on his dermas. And so you both walked up stared to your shared room. You held his cervo as all he looked at was your aftas you walked unaware.

Once in your shared room, he’d gently picked you up like a bride as he walks to the berth. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kiss his helm.

You heard him chuckle as he lays you on the berth. Him ontop with one cervo on the bed to support him as the other gently rubs the side of your waist. Your cervos holding the side of his helm and pulled him down to you and kiss him. The kiss a lot more hungry as he let out a moan against your dermas. He has been waiting to do this all day. You could tell just by the way he pressed his panel against yours as he thrust against it a few times. His cervos around yours waist lifting you up. Your arms around his neck.

You accepted when he pressed his glossa against your dermas. Accepting the kiss only became more hungry.

As his panel rubbed more against yours as he growled in the kiss, you finally finished teasing him and opened you panel.

He was quick to open his. His spike large and- pretty girthy. He wasn’t too gentle though. Shoving his spike into you without preparing. This caused you to moan and groan loudly against the kiss for a moment in mostly pain then pleasure.

He left his spike in there as you adjust to his size. Your legs shaking as he placed gentle kisses on your neck cables and shoulder.

His cervos holding your hips up against his own. His knees on the berth now as your arms remain around his neck. It took you some time as tears run down your cheeks from your optics. He gently kissed your tears away and he whispered to you.

”Breath sweetspark. It’s alright…” He whispered.

After a few moments you slowly nodded to him and he began to thrust into your valve. Slowly pulling out at first then pushing back in.

This causing you to continue moaning. His dermas against the front of your neck, gently sucking on the sensitive cables. You can feel his grunts and moans against your neck.

Even the berth moving with your body as he thrusted. each one fast and rough.

This continued on for what felt like hours. He mustve overloaded in you at least four times now. You loaded at least 7 times.

And you were becoming exhausted. You tried to speak saying you were exhausted for the past few minutes but your moans always got in the way.

Until you finally was able to say “Stop”. He did so. He looked at you. Seeming like he was barely not out of breath. So you looked at him with tired optics. “You have showed…Your devotion…” He stared at you and chuckled.

”Ready to bond Sweetspark?” You slowly nodded, his spike still in your valve as his load slowly leaked out.

He gently kissed your forhelm as you closed your optics. You chest slowly opening which you weren’t sure why it did. His spark then opened a lot faster and you were hit with a pleasurable feeling.

Both of your sparks dancing together as a bond begins for you both.

After a moment your both are bonded. You two stared at each other as you continue to catch your breath. He only looked down at you with loving optics and gently lifted you against his frame.

Then laying you on the berth closer to the window. As he lays on the other side. Your legs were closed and still shaking a little.

Your frame over heated as your helm turned to him. He was smiling as his cervo gently rubbed your other arm. Your other cervo against his chest as he used his other arm to support himself “You did so good sweetspark.”

He’d give you a gentle kiss as he sat up and grabbed a towel and started to clean you up gently. Being a true gentlemen. After he slowly cuddled you. You were on your side facing the window as he came behind you also laying on his side.

His arm wrapped around your waist as his front frame is against your back and aft. As his legs pressed against yours.

You turned your helm a bit to look at him. He leaned his hel forward to be able to kiss your dermas as a good night kiss. You both then lay your helm down and fall asleep as you both closed your optics. Though….it took you some time to fall asleep yourself. Not to mention his grip around you was pretty….firm.

———————————————————————————

In the morning as the sun started to rise. The window was the cause for the sun to hit you first. Your optics slowly opening and as you slowly sat up.

Your valve and thighs were very sore. As you sat up, you noticed Optimus was on his back still asleep. But his cervo was resting on the side of your hip. As you sat up you moved his cervo to your lap.

Using your body to keep the sun from hitting his optics as you sat up. Using your arm above his helm as support as you leaned down to kiss his forhelm. You’re sure because of you moving caused him to wake up.

He grumbled a bit, his optics stilled closed as his cervo that was icloser to you was now under you. It now resting and holding your waist as you kissed his helm. Your cervo that wasn’t supporting you up now on his cervo that’s on your lap.

His optics slowly opened as he stared up at you. “There’s a view id like to wake up to every day”

You chuckled. “Good Morning to you too.” Both of your dermas connect. Both closing your optics. As his cervo that was once under yours moved to the side of your helm, his other one on your waist was pulling you closer. Until you stopped him.

”Why don’t I fix us some breakfast before our day start, yeah?” You gave him your usual soft smile. He held back a groan and just nodded. Giving to a half smile as you got up. Out of his grasp. He sat up, moving his cervo up to protect his eyes from the suns light as he watched you make your way to downstairs.

He’d then get a comm by Ratchet. He soon had a frown on his face.

You made it downstairs and started to get some energon ready for the both of you on some nice plates in the room. As you sat the plates on the table and sat down. Optimus came down and seemed annoyed.

“I have another damn meeting with the new council.”

You stood up and walked closer to him. “You should eat before your meeting sweetspark.” You hand him his plate. He only stared down at you with a bit of a frown before closing his optics for a moment. Then gives that same fake smiles as he leaned down and kissed the top of your helm. Gently taking the plate and sits down as he eats. You watched himm. Noticing the change in him. You summed it up to the council and meeting he has coming. You just picked up a data pad on a shelf and started scrolling through it as you stood there. Your back to him.

He noticed and finished his food. Then walking to behind you and looked over your shoulder. His helm a bit closer to you. “And what are you doing sweetspark?” He glanced down at you as you payed not much mind to him. using your gig it to scroll through a page as you spoke.

”I’m just looking for any opened jobs. I should do my part for the city sweetspark. I cant be just the Leader of Iacon cities Conjunx.”

You speak with optimism. A gently smile gracing your dermas.

Little do you know his optics are dark as he stared at you. Until his cervo rests on our hip. The grip firm as this caught your attention. His other cervo grabbing the data pad as he moved it behind him as he stared down at you. You turned to look at him with confused optics.

“Optimus I need that.”

”No..you don’t..I descided. You can join me. My personal assistant as that you are with me. How about that?” You chuckled. “We’ll get bored of each other. And besides I wish to help others. So why not out of the tower.”

He sighed and his other cervo once on your hip moved to hold your chin. “Please…I already lost my bestfriend…..I just want what I have left with me….Please?”

His optics were almost… sincere. You weren’t sure how to respond. You just looked down as he put the data pad down. Little did you know he had a grin on his dermas as he stared down at you. “Just come with me. I’m sure we can find a job for you sweetspark. Now be a good Conjunx and join me. Hm?”

His digit gently held your chin as he then kissed your cheek. You let out a small hum and looked at him. “Sure…why not sweetspark.” He chuckled

“Good Conjunx.” He takes your cervo and you both walk out of the room. As you made it to the meeting room.

———————————————————————————

There were other Cybertronians speaking amongst their self. Optimus walked forward as you stay close behind. As he made his way to his chair, you follow behind and notice some of the femmes and mechs look at you as you stand next to Optimus once e takes his seat.

”Alright. Let the meeting commence.” You stayed next to him with a few data pads in your arms for him. The others sitting down. You noticed one of the femmes making ‘eyes’ to Optimus. You had to remind yourself that Optimus is Loyal. Isn’t he?

Your spark implied a bit of pressure. Something he can feel through the bond. And out of no where. The bond from him sent a wave of annoyance and warmth. He moved his cervo back toawrds your gently holding the one that isnt holding all the data pads in your arm.

He kissed the back of your cervo, you noticed the femme looked annoyed and glared at you as he glanced at the femme with very dark eyes.

He did not like this femme making you sad.

You continue to just look at the statues of the former primes around you as he spoke during the meeting. Your cervo still in his larger one as it continues to hold yours. His digit gently rubbing the back of your cervo.

You’d keep a few of the data pads with one arm. As the meeting continues on, some of the mechs looked at you. You ignored them. But you could feel through the bond that Optimus was getting annoyed by the meeting still going on.

Eventually the meeting soon ends and as the bots left and you watched them exit the door.

You felt Optimus cervo gently pull you closer as he stayed in his seat. He took the data pads and set them on the table far from him.

He then sets you on the table in front of him even scooting closer as he spoke.

As he spoke he wrapped his arms around your waist as he looked up at you with hungry optics. Having his usual devious grin as he sets his chin on your chest as you looked down at him. You had a shy smile on your dermas.

“Now sweetspark. I believ with you as my assistant it can give a better chance for me and you to grow….closer as Conjunx. If you be a good Conjunx. I’ll be sure you’re always treated as a Queen.”

”Queen?” You chuckled

”Well you are the wife of the relationship my dear.” He kisses your chest and waist as his cervo gripped the side of your waist and pulled it a bit closer against his dermas and his other cervo rested on your thigh. That cervo then moved to your panel.

You chuckled as you cervo gently rubs the top as his held as the other rests against the table.

“Sweetspark if I’m the wife. Does that mean I will the soul carrier for a future sparkling?” He stops for a moment. His optics soft as he thought for a moment as his body moved up in his chair getting closer.

His chest against your waist as his chin rests on your chest.

”Yes….Our sparkling. My successor.” His dark optics look up at you. You almost felt fear. Something telling you to stop at the back of your head. He’d then gently pat your panel.

”Let me see that lovely spike of yours my love?”

”Optimus we really shouldn’t do this in here. We’re disrespecting the primes aren’t we?” He forcefully opened your panel. Showing your valve and then spike. You shivered at the cold air.

He starts to gently stroke your spike. Having a firm grip and squeezing rather tightly. Your legs slowly shaking as he licked at the tip. You were a bit smaller then him and not as thick. But you can stretch a valve pretty well.

Your hips almost thrusts forward a few times. He chuckled as he continued. Your cervo grabbing the one still stroking your spike. As your other cervo covers over your intake. Trying to hide your moans.

“O-Optimus please we shouldn’t-“

“I will please my Conjunx. Will you so rid me of that?” His helm leaned down to the tip and gently licked at the tip. This made it harder to not thrust forward as you stared down at him…

You couldn’t stop him for a good while……

….You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there. But your cervos gripped his helm as he deep throated your spike in his intake. You came in his throat a couple times now. A few small moans escaping your dermas a few times. Your legs shaking as both of his cervos held firmly under your thighs.

Once you loaded for the third time. He finally pulled your spike from his intake even licking at the tip. Then licking his dermas as he stared up at you. “W-Why did you..-“

“The only good thing of use this spike will have is for me to pleasure you. And your valve is for you to pleasure more.” He gently rubbed the lips of your valve making you shudder. “Now then….be a good bot and sit on your Conjunx lap as the next meeting commences hm?”

He sat against his chair once more. Holding his cervo out to you to take it. You were hesitient at first as your cervo reached out for his. But when he noticed you were holding back he was quick to grab it and pull you onto his lap. His chuckle was deep as his cervos firmly grab your arm and upper thigh.

“You were so good for me.. Now how about we enjoy some time before lunch. I don’t have another meeting for a while my dear.”

He kisses you once more. You took a moment to return the kiss. You had a horrible feeling in your stomach…You told yourself it was hunger. He noticed. His hands gripping tightly to you as a sort of warning.

You both kissed for a moment longer and all that’s heard in the room was your kisses and moans. He’d then stop and stood up holding you and gently sets you down. “Now there’s a really nice restaurant I wish to take you to sweetspark.” You could only nod. As he walks with your cervo in his.

——————————————————————————

Once at the restaurant he was often stopped and asked mid sentence about himself and more now that he was the leader of the city. You only looked at the menu as many people continue to talk to him.

You noticed even as femmes and mechs flirt with him in front of you, he’d always shut them down rudely and glance at you as your looked down as you only feel nervousness.

He didn’t like feeling that through the bond. His side of the bond made you stop that and to be good. You sighed as told the waiter what you wanted. He then asked for the fans to be taken out so that he can eat.

After that the rest of the day went by before you knew it. He’d often pul you closer to him by your waist when walking around. In and out of the tower. You’d always notice femmes, mechs, and neutral bots either give you stink eye or admiration of lust or affections. You still don’t know how to feel about it.

He’d go around, with you with him as he makes speeches and promises. Even going to some charities. Although some of his actions seemed forced. This took all day and before you knew it. It was night.

Once at the tower and back in the meeting room after stopping by a few of the rooms to see what Goldbug and Elita were working you. You noticed they had a few dents in them. Something that made your body shiver as you felt Optimus larger cervo on your waist.

Keeping you close. Once you made your way to the meeting room he took his spot in the sweet. He seemed tired but willing based on how tired his optics appeared.

As he sat he rested the side of his helm on his fist as his other cervo rests on the arm of the chair.

You stand next to his chair as you looked over the updated data pads as he glanced at you. “Sweetspark. Why don’t you take the seat next to me. No one else took it in our meeting before.”

You’d slowly nodded and sat in the seat he told you. He’d then brings you closer by the chair and rests his cervo on your lap as his other cervo holds a data pad. As the others came in the one femme who made eyes at Optimus before glared at you. She then took as seat next to Ratchet. Who descided to sit next to you. You didn’t mind as much. As the meeting continue Optimus kept his cervo on your thigh. Gently squeezing it so often. God do you feel trapped. Ratchet would speak to most with Optimus as the others listened. You’d then notice he seemed annoyed. Even feeling it through the spark bond.

Once the meeting was over you watched as Optimus moved his cervo that once held a data pad go to his face as his digits held the bridge of his nose.

Your cervos moved from the table to the top of his still ontop of your thigh. You then noticed how late it was and stood up. Gently holding Optimus chin with your digits making him look at you.

He watched you as you leaned forward and kisses him gently. “Let’s go to bed sweetspark. You earned it.”

You said as you took his cervo and started walking to the other door to your shared room.. He was quick to stand up and walk with you. Liking the view of you taking a small lead. Not noticing how Moonracer was watching and waited by the door.

As you both made it to your room, you tried your best to not slap his cervo away when he set it on your aft.

You turned around to face him and he was quick to pick you up. Placing your legs around his waist as you wrapped his arms around his neck on your own. Your kiss was soon hungry and passionate as he made his wa the sofa and had you laid down. Having one leg on the couch as he kept kissing you. His panel against yours. Gently humping against it as he whispered between kisses and moans “I love you.”

That’s until you’re interrupted by a knock at the door. He groans and sat down between your legs. Rolling his optics. “It’s probably something important Optimus.”

You sat up as he only looked more pissed off. You then set your cervos on his chest as you looked up at him with a smile. Trying to calm him down. You’d then stand up to go answer until he stopped you.

“Just sit here and look beautiful sweetspark.” He said with a smile and gave you a small kiss.

As he walked to the door he had a huge frown on his face. But he didn’t let you see it.

Once he answered the door it was Moonracer. She instantly started flirting with him. Telling him how she’s been watching him. How she’ll be a loyal bitch and all that. Even a good Conjunx. You could only watch as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

He only watched her with an unamused expression. She’s then trying to pull him down closer to her as she tried to kiss him.

You stood from the couch as you made your way, about to speak that she needs the cut that out. Yes you were angry. You are his Conjunx after all.

But when you were about to speak, Optimus noticed you. And raised a cervo to stop you. Only turning his body a bit to look at you. She then looked at you.

”What are you doing here you Bi-“ Before she could finish. She’s then blasted on the side of the face.

Her head completely off as her body falls to the direction the same as when her head was shouted at.

You…were frozen…Even backing up.

”Ugh you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fo that. Just to shoot her from across the table.” He groaned as he turned to you. You could only fall onto your aft as you looked at him with wide optics. “Oh come now sweetspark don’t be scared. The others can clean this up in the morning.”

He put his canon away and kicked the body out of his way.

He walked to you. Even as you backed up he still grabbed your cervos and pulled you against him. He had a large and….terrifying grin on his dermas as he stared down at you. “Let’s go lay down…” He pulled you closer. “Shall we?” His optics glowed.

———————————————————————————

You were sitting on the berth. Your back against the wall as you stared out the window. Optimus was laying on his back His helm on your lap as he looked up at you with a…..’smile’.

You only had an uncertain frown on your lips as you kept looking out the window. Seeing the city lights as many Bo’s still flying around late.

Your cervos gently holding the side of his helm as his cervos hold the side of your thighs. He was loving his spot. After was felt like almost an hour he sat up. You kept looking out the window.

He was on his knees. His cervos grabbing your arm on both sides and pulled you close onto his lap.

”You love me…Don’t you my dear?”

He stared down at you as his cervo held your chin to make you look at him. Your optics were narrowed and tired. You didn’t know how to feel. His optics….They were a mix of love….lust…and hate. He was so possessive and……a killer….

Your intake slowly opens and….aganist your better judgement…you know he can hurt you..and so..

”Optimus…I love you.”

His smile only grew. As he leaned down and connected his dermas with yours and closed his optics, the kiss passionate. You were quick to return the kiss. Your cervos resting on his chest. Closing your optics as you both stay together as so. For a little while longer….but dread rests in your spark…for a moment longer…..

Primus….what have you done?…

This one I have been working on for a good while. I hope you guys enjoyed this and can’t wait to see the comments after. As always a repost is appreciated and hope to see you all in the next post. Hope you all have a good rest of your day!

#x reader #transformers one #transformers one x reader #transformers #transformers x reader #orion pax x reader #transformers one optimus prime #transformers one optimus #optimus prime x reader #tf optimus prime #tfo optimus #tf shattered glass #transformers shattered glass #tf shatter glass Optimus prime #transformers shatter glass Optimus Prime

227 notes · View notes