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xtra7s · 9 months ago

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Could you do an enemies to lovers smut for Renee rapp? I can't find anything like it for this woman, and it's been sitting in the back of my brain for WEEKS🤣

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧

Pairing: Renee Rapp x gn!reader

Sypnosis: Renee and Y/N, past broadway rivals, meet again at a party.

Content: Renee Rapp x gn!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, alcohol

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: sorry there isnt much enemy to lover action, im completely writer blocked and I hope you enjoy. Not proofread

masterlist

The room pulsed with energy, and at the center of it all, Renee Rapp held court. Her laughter rang out like a melody, drawing attention from all corners of the glamorous party. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in the crowd, and the atmosphere shifted. Y/N, now 23, stood there, an unspoken challenge in their gaze.

"Well, well, if it isn't Y/N," Renee smirked, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Thought you'd be off somewhere trying to steal the spotlight again."

Y/N chuckled, unfazed by Renee's jab. "You know me, always craving the attention you seem to think you deserve."

The tension between them crackled like electricity, the memories of their past rivalry bubbling to the surface. They exchanged pleasantries with false smiles, each word laced with underlying competition.

"Still riding on that role you stole from me, Rapp?" Y/N quipped, a sly grin playing on their lips.

Renee leaned in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please. I didn't steal it; I earned it. Unlike some people who rely on sympathy and mediocre talent."

The banter continued, their words cutting deeper with each exchange. It was as if the years had melted away, and they were back on the Broadway stage, fighting for the same spotlight. The party became a battleground, and every smile, every gesture, was a carefully calculated move in their ongoing verbal duel.

The party raged on, the music pulsating through the crowded room. As the night wore on, the competitive banter between Renee Rapp and Y/N took an unexpected turn. Glasses clinked, inhibitions faded, and the tension transformed into a different kind of electricity.

"Admit it, Y/N," Renee slurred playfully, leaning in closer. "You always secretly admired my talent. It's okay; I get it."

Y/N's eyes sparkled with mischief as they responded, "Oh, please. I only admired how you managed to talk your way into roles you had no business getting."

Laughter erupted between them, a shared understanding weaving through the alcohol-induced haze. The lines between rivalry and attraction blurred as they engaged in a tipsy dance of words and glances.

Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, they found themselves in a quieter corner, away from the prying eyes of the party. The air was thick with laughter and a lingering tension that seemed to pull them closer.

"I'll have you know," Renee began, her tone low and teasing, "I could still outshine you on any stage, even in this state."

Y/N chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Challenge accepted, Rapp. But first, can we agree that we were both robbed of that role we fought over?"

Renee's eyes softened, and she nodded, a shared nostalgia washing over them. "Yeah, maybe we were both deserving. Broadway politics can be brutal."

As the night deepened, the flirtatious banter continued, their words becoming increasingly laced with innuendo. The competitive edge now carried a hint of something more, a mutual attraction that had been buried beneath years of rivalry.

"I have to admit," Y/N admitted, their gaze locking with Renee's, "you clean up well when you're not trying to sabotage my career."

Renee smirked, leaning in even closer. "Maybe I should sabotage something else instead."

The playful banter took a more seductive turn, and the air became charged with a different kind of energy. It was as if the years of rivalry had paved the way for a newfound connection – one that went beyond the stage and into the realm of shared secrets and stolen glances.

The raucous sounds of the party faded into a distant hum as Renee Rapp and Y/N slipped away, finding refuge in the dimly lit hallway leading to the bathroom. Y/N shot a mischievous smile at Renee, a glint of playfulness in their eyes.

"I need a moment to touch up my makeup," Y/N said, their voice low and suggestive.

Renee raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, I'm not one to let someone go to the bathroom alone, especially if they might be up to something."

Y/N chuckled, leading the way into the bathroom. The air was charged with anticipation, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead as they entered the small space. Y/N turned to face the mirror, pretending to focus on their makeup, but their eyes locked with Renee's in the reflection.

"You know," Y/N teased, their voice a sultry whisper, "I never thought I'd find myself in a bathroom with you. The stuff of dreams, really."

Renee chuckled, closing the distance between them. "Dreams do come true, especially when you least expect them."

As Y/N applied lipstick, Renee couldn't resist the temptation. She gently turned Y/N around, their eyes locking with an intensity that sent shivers down both their spines. The playful banter had shifted into a charged moment of unspoken desire.

Renee, with a smirk that conveyed both confidence and mischief, pushed Y/N gently against the bathroom wall. Y/N's breath caught, their heartbeat echoing in the confined space. The flirtatious tension reached its peak as Renee leaned in, her lips dangerously close to Y/N's ear.

"You talk a big game, Y/N," Renee whispered, her warm breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "But I wonder if you can handle me."

Before Y/N could respond, Renee closed the remaining distance, capturing Y/N's lips in a passionate kiss. The bathroom seemed to fade away, and all that remained was the electric connection between them. Y/N responded eagerly, their hands finding their way to Renee's jaw, as Renee holds their waist.

The kiss was a blend of years of rivalry, newfound attraction, and the intoxication of the night. The world outside the bathroom ceased to exist as Renee and Y/N lost themselves in the heat of the moment.

As they finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, the playful banter had transformed into a silent understanding. The bathroom had become a secret haven for a connection that went beyond the stage, leaving both Renee and Y/N wondering what the encore of this unexpected night would bring.

The remnants of their passionate kiss lingered in the air as Renee and Y/N pulled away, their eyes locking in a shared moment of realization. A playful grin played on Renee's lips as she looked into Y/N's eyes.

"Feisty," Renee remarked, her voice low and teasing. "But I have a feeling the night is just getting started. How about we continue this at my place, hm?"

Y/N's heart raced at the suggestion, a mix of excitement and curiosity dancing in their eyes. "And why should I be inclined to go, Rapp?"

Renee leaned in, her breath warm against Y/N's ear. "My place isn't too far from here. It's quieter, and we can continue our little encore without any interruptions."

A sly smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "Should I be concerned?"

Renee chuckled, her fingers lightly tracing Y/N's jawline. "Only if you can't handle a little adventure. Besides, it's just a short cab ride away. What do you say?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the magnetic pull between them undeniable. "Lead the way, Rapp. Let's see what kind of encore you have in mind."

As they exited the bathroom, the party continued to buzz around them, oblivious to the clandestine connection that had formed. Renee intertwined her fingers with Y/N's, leading them through the crowd with an air of confidence. The night held the promise of something unpredictable, and neither of them could resist the allure of what awaited at Renee's house.

Outside, the city lights shimmered, casting a romantic glow on the streets. Renee hailed a cab, and as they slid into the backseat, the anticipation grew. The ride was filled with stolen glances and the lingering heat of their earlier encounter.

Arriving at Renee's apartment, the door closed behind them, sealing the promise of a night filled with passion and shared secrets. As they stepped into the dimly lit space, the chemistry between Renee and Y/N ignited once again, setting the stage for an encore that would be remembered long after the final curtain fell.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Renee couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She pressed Y/N against it, her hands sliding up their waist and pulling them closer. Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's shoulders as they looked up at her with hunger in their eyes.

Renee kissed down their neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin and earning a moan from Y/N's lips. She had always been fascinated by the way someone's reactions could change when she kissed different spots on their body.

"Bedroom" Renee murmured, pulling Y/N by her right hand to Renee's bedroom. Renee pushed Y/N gently onto her bed, their bodies sinking into the soft mattress. She climbed on top of them, her lips never leaving their skin as she kissed and nipped along their jawline, down their neck, and across their collarbone.

Y/N's hands roamed up Renee's back, pulling her closer as they let out soft moans. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the occasional gasp as Renee's lips found new spots to explore.

Renee's hands slid under Y/N's shirt, her fingers trailing over their skin and eliciting shivers from Y/N's body. She leaned in to capture Y/N's lips in a deep kiss, their tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm.

As the kiss intensified, Renee's hand traveled lower until she reached the waistband of Y/N's pants. She paused for a moment, silently asking for permission before continuing. Y/N responded by arching into her touch and pulling her even closer.

Their clothes were soon discarded in a frenzy of passion, each touch sending sparks through their bodies. They explored each other with an urgency that couldn't be contained any longer.

With each passing moment, the intensity between Renee and Y/N only grew stronger. They were lost in each other, their bodies moving together in a perfect rhythm.

Renee's lips trailed down Y/N's chest, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along the way. She stopped to pay special attention to their breasts, kneading them roughly as she attached her lips to one of Y/N's nipples.

Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's hair as they arched into her touch. The sensation was overwhelming, causing them to moan loudly and lose themselves in the pleasure.

As Renee continued to lavish attention on Y/N's body, her hand traveled down between their legs. She ran a finger through Y/N's folds, teasing them with gentle strokes before delving deeper.

Y/N's hips bucked against her hand, their breath coming in short gasps as they became lost in pleasure. Renee slipped two fingers into them, increasing the pressure and speed until Y/N was writhing beneath her.

The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and heavy breathing as they moved together in perfect harmony. Renee knew exactly how to touch Y/N to drive them wild, and she took great pleasure in doing so.

Their eyes met for a moment before Y/N leaned down to capture Renee's lips in a passionate kiss. Their bodies moved together with a newfound urgency, both desperate for release.

Renee moved Y/N up the bed with no resistance from them. She trailed kisses and gentle bites down their body until she reached their thighs. Gently, she hiked their legs up onto her shoulders, exposing them completely to her.

Y/N let out a gasp as Renee's lips found a particularly sensitive spot on their inner thigh, sending shivers through their body. They could feel the heat building between their legs as Renee continued to leave a trail of kisses and bites along their thighs.

Without warning, Renee's tongue darted out and flicked over Y/N's clit, causing them to cry out in pleasure. She continued to work her tongue expertly on Y/N's most sensitive area, alternating between soft licks and hard sucking motions.

Y/N's hands gripped onto the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over them. They were completely at Renee's mercy, lost in the sensations coursing through their body.

As Renee continued to pleasure Y/N with her mouth, her hand slipped upwards to find its way inside of them once again. She worked her fingers in perfect rhythm with her tongue, driving Y/N closer and closer to the edge.

With one final thrust of her fingers and a flick of her tongue, Renee brought Y/N over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm. They cried out in ecstasy as they rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through their body.

Renee didn't stop there though. She continued to kiss and lick at Y/N's sensitive areas, prolonging their pleasure until they couldn't take it anymore.

Finally, when Y/N was spent and breathless from their release, Renee made her way back up their body to capture their lips in a deep kiss once again. Their bodies were still humming with energy as they kissed each other passionately.

Renee's body was still humming with pleasure from Y/N's expert touch, but she couldn't resist the invitation in their words. "Let me make you feel good, Renee," they murmured, their voice filled with desire.

With a lazy smile, Renee shifted over to give Y/N more space on the bed. She watched as they trailed a hand down her naked body, causing shivers to run down her spine.

Their lips found hers in a sloppy kiss as their hand continued its journey downwards. Renee gasped into their mouth as their fingers brushed against her sensitive skin.

Without hesitation, Y/N slipped their hand between Renee's legs, finding her wet and ready for them. They rubbed her clit gently before slipping a finger inside of her. Renee moaned into the kiss as pleasure shot through her body. They knew exactly how to touch her, and she could feel herself getting lost in the sensations.

Their kiss became more urgent as Y/N added another finger, thrusting them in and out of her with perfect rhythm. She could feel the heat building within her once again, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she reached the edge.

Y/N broke the kiss and looked into Renee's eyes with a mischievous grin. "Do you want me to make you cum baby?" they murmured against Y/N's lips.

Renee let out a pathetic yes, unable to form any sentences as pleasure consumed her body. Y/N leaned down to capture one of their nipples in their mouth, sucking on it gently while their fingers continued to work their magic between her legs.

It didn't take long before Renee was crying out in pleasure, waves of ecstasy washing over her body. She clung onto Y/N tightly as she rode out the intense orgasm that had been building within her.

As Renee came down from her high, she pulled Y/N up to her level and captured their lips in a passionate but lazy kiss. She could taste herself on their lips and it only added to the feeling of intimacy between them.

Renee reached over to grab a discarded blanket from the floor and pulled it over them, covering their naked bodies. She held Y/N close to her, enjoying the warmth and closeness.

"God, that was amazing," Y/N murmured against her lips, still catching their breath.

Renee smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of Y/N's face. "You were amazing," she whispered back.

They fell into a comfortable silence, content with just being in each other's arms. Renee couldn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed.

Eventually, they drifted off into a peaceful sleep, their limbs intertwined and breathing in sync.

#renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls #regina george x reader #wlw #lesbian

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astroa3h · 10 months ago

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lilith through the houses ✨🥀

Lilith in the 1st House: Here, Lilith influences your self-image and personality. It’s like having a shadow self that’s rebellious and defiant, constantly challenging the way you present yourself to the world. You might struggle with anger or impulsiveness, feeling like an outsider even in your own skin.

Lilith in the 2nd House: This placement touches on your values and possessions. Lilith can manifest as an intense, sometimes destructive relationship with material things and self-worth. You might experience deep-seated fears about security and survival, or find yourself obsessing over possessions as a way to fill emotional voids.

Lilith in the 3rd House: Communication gets a Lilith twist here. Your words might carry a sharp edge, often veering into taboo or controversial territory. Misunderstandings can be frequent, and you may feel like your true thoughts are too dark or intense for everyday conversation.

Lilith in the 4th House: In the realm of home and family, Lilith can stir up deep, unresolved issues. This placement often points to a tumultuous home life or unresolved trauma from the past. You might feel like an outcast in your own family or struggle with a sense of belonging.

Lilith in the 5th House: Lilith’s presence here can bring intense, sometimes tumultuous experiences in love, creativity, and pleasure. Romantic relationships might be fraught with obsession, power struggles, or taboo elements. Your creative outlets could also be a source of inner turmoil, expressing the darker aspects of your psyche.

Lilith in the 6th House: In the house of work and health, Lilith can manifest as a rebellious attitude toward daily routines and responsibilities. You might find yourself in constant conflict with authority figures or grappling with issues around control and perfectionism in your work or health routines.

Lilith in the 7th House: Relationships are a battleground with Lilith here. Deep fears of abandonment or betrayal might surface, or you could find yourself drawn to partners who bring out your darkest qualities. Relationships may feel like a power struggle, where intimacy is intertwined with control.

Lilith in the 8th House: This house is already about transformation and deep bonds, but with Lilith, it goes to another level. You might have an intense fear of loss or betrayal, or find yourself drawn to dangerous or taboo aspects of sexuality and intimacy. It's a realm of deep psychic wounds and transformational healing.

Lilith in the 9th House: Beliefs and higher learning take a dark twist with Lilith here. Your belief systems may include taboo or unconventional elements, and you might feel a deep sense of alienation in your quest for truth. There's a potential for fanaticism or an obsession with dark, forbidden knowledge.

Lilith in the 10th House: In your career and public image, Lilith can manifest as a fear of authority or a desire to rebel against societal expectations. You might feel misunderstood by the public or struggle with a public persona that feels inauthentic or oppressive.

Lilith in the 11th House: Your friendships and social circles may be impacted by Lilith’s darker energy. You might find yourself drawn to social groups that are unconventional or taboo, or feel like an outcast among your peers. Your hopes and dreams could also be tinged with Lilith’s intense energy, leading to a sense of disillusionment.

Lilith in the 12th House: In the realm of the subconscious, Lilith can bring up your deepest fears and insecurities. You might struggle with feelings of isolation or be haunted by fears that you can't even articulate. This placement often indicates a deep need for inner healing, as Lilith brings to light the darkest corners of your psyche.

xox astro ash

Get your own Lilith Reading @ astroash.net

(Find Under Single Placement Reading)

TikTok - astroa3h

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nickeverdeen · 10 months ago

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how about five x reader when the reader accidently confesses feelings? Please and thank you!

Acidentally confessing your feelings to Five Hargreeves

TW: gunshot injury, mention of getting shot, reader taking care of a gunshot wound

————————————————————

The aftermath of the mission cast a subdued ambiance over the Umbrella Academy. Five Hargreeves, despite his usual uncanny ability to navigate danger unscathed, bore a minor wound—a gunshot graze on his shoulder. The living room, once a battleground, now transformed into a makeshift infirmary.

Y/N, a mixture of relief and worry evident in their eyes, found themselves tending to Five's injury. The air held a tangible tension, the near miss of danger lingering in the room.

As they delicately cleaned the wound, Y/N couldn't help but let their guard down, "You know, Five, for someone who can time travel, you sure have a knack for attracting trouble in the present."

Five, typically stoic, winced at the sting of disinfectant but couldn't suppress a smirk. "I like to keep things interesting."

With the task at hand, the Y/N's thoughts became a tempest of emotions. The sight of Five, vulnerable yet resilient, stirred something profound within them. It was in that charged moment, amid the quiet echoes of the mission's aftermath, that words slipped out before they could be reined in.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Y/N muttered, their tone a blend of exasperation and affection. "Getting yourself shot and making me worry like that."

Five, more accustomed to trading barbs than receiving concern, raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, it's not on my list of preferred activities."

As Y/N carefully bandaged the wound, they sighed, their gaze meeting Five's. "You have this way of making me care, Five. More than I ever planned to. I mean, who would've thought?"

The admission hung in the air, laden with a vulnerability that transcended the typical banter between the Hargreeves siblings. Five, though adept at masking his emotions, seemed momentarily caught off guard.

A beat of silence passed before Five quipped, "Well, it seems I'm not the only one who can make things interesting."

The room, steeped in a quiet understanding, bore witness to a confession that wasn't grandiose or cliché but was instead woven into the fabric of their shared moments—a revelation that unfolded amidst the aftermath of danger, a gunshot graze, and the quiet acknowledgment of something deeper.

#request #imagine #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #five tua #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader

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primaviva · 10 months ago

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PUCK YOU

featuring. hockey!ellie williams x fem!reader synopsis. after winning the final game of the season, ellie wants you to join her in celebrating in the locker room. warnings. descriptions of the female body, suggestive content, hardcore making out ( i. e. breast play, grinding, hair pulling…) read at your own discretion

eighty six—the number that defined your girlfriend's prowess on the ice.

it was the number you witnessed gliding effortlessly across the frozen surface, scoring goals with a mighty grip on the hockey stick. it was the number you saw when her frustration reached its peak, her helmet flying across the room, marked unmistakably with that bold eighty six.

and now, as you watched the game unfold, you proudly donned the same number on your back. the vibrant red jersey draped your frame in a comfortably oversized, boyfriend-style fit. originally ellie's, she had lovingly given it to you, fully aware of your affinity for wearing her clothes, with the added sentiment that it’s her team jersey adorning your figure as you cheered her on during games.

in the highly anticipated matchup against the seattle krakens, ellie found herself facing off against her arch-nemesis, abby anderson, who always seemed to harbor an unspoken animosity towards her. perhaps it stemmed from abby's envy of ellie's successes in the industry, or maybe it was fueled by a longing to occupy the same position. whatever the reason, their encounters invariably generated newsworthy headlines.

ellie was well aware of the power of making headlines, understanding that the public loved a good rivalry. the crowd, amused by the tension between ellie and abby, eagerly absorbed every moment of them clashing on the monitors. well, everyone but you. unlike the spectators, you knew the toll it took on ellie. while you delighted in witnessing the furrow of ellie's brows and the intensity in her evergreen gaze, you understood the weight of her anger, knowing how overwhelming those emotions could be for her during gameplay. ellie also just didn’t like getting angry, as she knew how terrible she could get when succumbing to the emotion.

as the game against the seattle krakens reached its exhilarating climax, the scoreboard displayed a tense deadlock. "ellie" and "abby" reverberated through the arena, transforming into a fierce battle of vocal support among the spectators. the names echoed through the crowd, each fan fervently chanting for their favorite player to emerge victorious.

you leaned forward, leaning over the barrier that separated the passionate crowd from the icy battleground. eager to catch a glimpse of the unfolding spectacle, you yearned for a front-row view of the action.

"kick her ass!" your voice rang out, carried by a surge of adrenaline as you fervently waved your hands in the air, willing ellie to triumph with every fiber of your being.

with each stride, ellie's instincts took over. in a swift, fluid motion, ellie seized control of the puck, effortlessly maneuvering past defenders with her unmatched skill. among the sea of opponents, her eyes locked onto abby, her greatest rival, who relentlessly pursued her, driven by a desire to strip ellie of the puck. with precision and agility, ellie danced around abby's relentless advances, her stickwork a symphony of finesse. the crowd watched in awe as the two players engaged in a thrilling duel, but with a burst of speed, your girlfriend left abby in her wake, weaving through the defense.the crowd held their breath, captivated by the scene before them.

the ice seemed to tremble beneath her skates as she closed in on the goal, her heart pounding in her chest. time seemed to stand still as she unleashed a powerful shot, puck sailing through the air and evading the outstretched glove of the goaltender, finding the back of the net. satisfying, it reverberated with a resounding thud as the puck found its mark, securing victory for ellie's team. the arena erupted in a chorus of thunderous cheers, the crowd's jubilation mirroring the euphoria in ellie's own heart.

as the final buzzer echoed through the arena, signaling the end of the intense match, the spectators began to disperse, their cheers fading into the background. ellie along with her team members, elated by their hard-fought victory, eagerly made their way to the locker room to celebrate.

that was the routine of those games. the teams would go to the locker rooms to change out of their gear until they come back out to wait for their bus which left a little later as the coaches made sure the media got some press with the stars of the teams. you would wait for ellie outside of the lockers to greet her with a well deserved kiss and hug before it was time to hit the road.

however, what wasn’t apart of the routine was ellie taking much longer than her teammates, to the point where everyone had left the lockers to go outside and get some fresh air in the dark night sky. usually ellie was eager to get out of her sweaty uniform and lay flat on the floor in relief that it was over, one time she had practically taken her shirt off before leaving the rink.

as you contemplated walking inside, dina, one of ellie's teammates, approached you with a knowing look.

"dina, where's ellie?" you inquired, crossing your arms over your chest as you eagerly awaited her answer.

the raven-head sighed softly, her eyes conveying a sense of understanding to your anxious state. "she's still in the locker room," dina replied, voice laced with empathy. "she needed a moment to calm down. it got pretty intense out there."

your heart skipped a beat as you took in dina's words. you knew all too well how overwhelming emotions could be for ellie, especially in the aftermath of a fiercely contested game like this one. without a second thought, you made your way towards the locker room.

as you entered the dimly lit space, the air was heavy with exhaustion. and there, in the corner, you spotted ellie, her figure slumped on a bench, her equipment scattered haphazardly around her. the sweat glistening on her forehead and the lingering fire in her eyes showed you all you needed to know.

her distant expression revealed a mind lost in deep contemplation, seemingly oblivious to the world around her, including your presence at the doorway.

"ellie," you softly called out, breaking the spell of her introspection.

in an instant, her head snapped up, the fog of her thoughts dissipating as a radiant, toothy smile graced her face. it was the kind of infectious grin that only ellie, with her unique brand of endearing quirkiness, could effortlessly rock. rising from the bench, standing tall as she strode purposefully towards you.

closing the distance between you, ellie enveloped you in her strong arms, lifting you up effortlessly off the ground. her face nestled into the crook of your neck, her warm breath sending gentle shivers down your spine.

the world outside the locker room faded away—as she held you, you could feel the weight of the game lifting from alongside her.

"there you are," she murmured against your neck, her voice muffled but happy nonetheless.

amidst stifled laughter, you attempted to speak. "did you hear me cheering?" you managed to ask.

"how could i not hear you, baby? you were the loudest one out there," ellie retorted, another smile gracing her face. she loved how supportive you always were of her. "thank you for always being there for my games. it means a lot to me, having my beautiful girl cheering me on."

tenderly, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her pale green eyes brimming with warmth and love. on the field, ellie exuded toughness and fierceness, but with you, her armor melted away, revealing a softer, caring side that you brought out in her.

you couldn't help but chuckle at her remark about being the loudest, preferring to describe her as passionate. "you good?" you asked, your gaze fixed on her as your vision readjusted from being taken to the ground. "i know how much it gets to you when abby tries to rile you up during games."

ellie let out a sigh at the mention of abby. "i'm fine, don't worry about her," she replied, her voice laced with frustration, her hand absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck.

but you could see the tension in her jaw, the way her body seemed to hold onto the irritation caused by abby's actions.

"thanks for checking on me," she expressed, her voice softer now. ellie leaned down, resting her forehead against yours, and released a deep sigh. it felt as if she were fully surrendering her body weight onto you, relying on your support. she was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

you weren’t buying tickets to her act.

as you studied her face, you noticed her tightly shut eyes and the creases forming around them. "i find it hard to believe you're okay. you look exhausted. sit," you firmly stated, placing your hands on her shoulders and gently guiding her back down onto the bench, encouraging her to rest.

ellie sighed and didn't resist as you made her sit back down on the bench. as tough as she was, she knew better than to argue with you when you used that tone.

"you know me too well,” ellie noted as she relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, closing her eyes. you always seemed to see right through her facade of being fine. the game had taken more out of her than she cared to admit.

you sat there, quietly observing her presence. the sheen of sweat adorned her forehead, causing strands of stray hair to cling to the sides. her skin appeared moist, a clear indication that she had recently stepped off the rink. your eyes remained fixed on her, capturing the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each inhale and exhale, a rhythmic cadence that grew slower and more deliberate. as you watched, your mind couldn't help but wander, envisioning the strength and definition of her abs concealed beneath her jersey. surely, the intensity of her performance left her core muscles taut and sculpted.

"will you sit with me for a bit?" she questioned, opening one eye to look at you hopefully. ellie just wanted a few quiet moments with you before the crowds dispersed. your presence alone seemed to ease her fatigue.

you nodded silently, a wordless affirmation of your unwavering support, before settling down beside her. her eyes attentively followed your every movement, capturing each subtle motion as you took your place next to her. she kept her gaze fixed on you, her emerald eyes shimmering in the softly lit room, as if trying to memorize every detail before finally closing them, her head finding solace against the wall.

"i really do appreciate you," she spoke amongst the silence. reaching for your hand, she brought it to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon it.

ellie, the dominant force on the field, always had a calm vulnerability in your presence. you provided the equilibrium she needed, a balance that no one else could offer.

you couldn't help but giggle at the sensations elicited by her tender kiss on your hand. "don't thank me," you playfully responded, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes. "come on, let me help you get undressed." as you rose from your seat, you noticed a devilish smirk on her face. "i didn't mean it like that, so don't even think about it," you emphasized, walking between her open legs as she sat, firmly grasping the bottom of her jersey.

she teasingly placed her hands behind your thighs, as if mockingly trying to keep you in place, before finally relenting and allowing you to proceed with removing her from her sweaty uniform.

"you know i can’t help myself around you," ellie playfully remarked, punctuating her words with a wink. however, as you tended to her, ellie surrendered herself to your caring touch, feeling the tightness in her muscles melt away.

she raised her arms, a silent invitation for you to remove her jersey. with gentle and skillful movements, you carefully pulled the fabric over her head, revealing the glistening sheen of perspiration on her skin. moving on, you deftly unfastened her shoulder pads, followed by her elbow pads. the expression on her face spoke volumes, a mixture of relief and gratitude as the weight of the protective gear was lifted from her.

ellie grinned up at you, thoroughly enjoying teasing you even when exhausted. you were just so cute when you got flustered. but she resisted making any other suggestive comments as you helped remove her pads and gear. she could tell you were going into protective girlfriend mode to take care of her.

as the last piece came off, ellie sighed in relief. "god, that’s so much better, thank you. i feel lighter already." she pulled you closer between her legs so your bodies were pressed together, though mindful not to squeeze you too tightly in her tired state. the tension began to ease from her muscles.

you just had that calming presence which soothed ellie's nerves. just being close to you helped her unwind after the stress of competition. she leaned back and closed her eyes contentedly.

"come here," ellie beckoned, extending her arm towards you, her desire for your closeness evident. "i just want to hold my girl before having to sit through a three-hour bus ride," she joked, a bit of truth in her statement.

with hesitation and curiosity, you placed your hand in hers, uncertain of what she had in mind. but before you could fully anticipate her next move, ellie swiftly pulled you into her lap, enveloping you in her embrace.

the suddenness of the action surprised you, but as you settled into her lap, you felt a wave of warmth and security wash over you. nestled against her, you could hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

ellie wrapped her strong arms securely around your waist as you settled into her lap. she rested her chin on your shoulder and breathed you in deeply.

"mmm, there's my girl,” she whispered. holding you always made ellie feel centered. like the rest of the world faded away and it was just the two of you. she nuzzled softly against your neck, placing gentle kisses along your skin. "i love you so much," she spoke while holding you tighter, hoping you knew how much you meant to her.

ellie's tired muscles relaxed further as she embraced you. your presence alone seemed to ease the strain from her body. she rocked you gently in her arms, enjoying this quiet moment of intimacy.

"i love you too," you whispered in response, your words filled with nothing less of love. ellie's gaze locked onto yours, her pupils dilating as she immersed herself in the depths of your eyes. in that intimate exchange, she sought to discover every shade, every intricate detail that made your eyes uniquely yours.

her hand, which had secured your waist, embarked on a slow and agonizing path up your back, sending a tantalizing shiver along your spine. it finally settled at the nape of your neck, her touch both gentle and possessive. with a firm grasp, she guided your head towards hers, closing the distance between your lips.

ellie kissed you softly yet deeply, savoring the feeling of your lips against hers. all the anxiety and frustration from the game seemed to melt away in your affectionate embrace.

she gently traced her tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance in a way that was loving yet dominant. her hand cradled the back of your head tenderly even as she pulled you in closer.

kissing you always made ellie feel possessive yet protective at the same time. like she never wanted to let you go. she loved you so fiercely it sometimes scared her. but she knew you were the only one who truly saw her for who she was—not just an athlete but a person.

as your lips moved in perfect harmony, a sensuous dance of desire, you became lost in the intoxicating rhythm. the magnetic pull between you seemed irresistible, drawing you into a world where nothing else mattered but her body. the wetness of her mouth and the mingling of saliva heightened the intensity, an unspoken language shared between you both.

when you reluctantly parted to catch your breath, a thin strand of saliva lingered, connecting you both momentarily. ellie leaned her forehead against yours, her breaths heavy and labored. her pale green eyes bore into yours, radiating warmth and unbridled desire. “i need you,” she expressed with a raw simplicity, her voice husky and filled with need. in your embrace, ellie found solace, the only place where true tranquility resided.

ellie craved an outlet, a means to divert her frustrations and escape the overwhelming demands of the game. and in that moment, there was no better distraction than being consumed by thoughts of you, her mind freed from pucks and goalies.

with a swift gesture, she wiped away the saliva from her chin before firmly gripping your jaw, drawing your lips back to hers. the kiss intensified, akin to the crashing of rough waves against a sailor's vessel. each crash left an imprint, and you could sense the tender fullness of your lips bruising under the passionate onslaught.

a deep, resonant moan escaped your throat, merging with the union of your mouths. your hands found purchase on her shoulders as you adjusted yourself, straddling her waist with a sense of urgency.

ellie growled low in her throat at your moan, arousal spiking through her body in an instant. she gripped your hips tighter, grinding you against her as your movements stirred her growing need.

kissing you deeper, ellie dominated your mouth with her tongue, possessing you completely. one hand slid up your back, fingers clutching possessively. the other tangled in your hair to hold you right where she wanted.

she kissed like she played—with a fiery intensity and competitive drive to claim victory. ellie poured all her pent up passion and longing into the kiss, asserting her dominance yet caring for you completely.

when you finally broke apart again, panting heavily, ellie gazed at you with lust-darkened eyes. "fuck, baby, you're so hot,” she groaned, nipping along your jaw and down your neck, leaving her mark.

ellie was throbbing with want, craving the intimate release only you could give her after a game.

"ellie, did you forget we're in the locker room?" you began to protest, but ellie's touch interrupted your words, cupping your clothed boobs and giving them a slow yet tender squeeze. you hated how flustered she got you, especially when there were other people around. “cut the shit," you pleaded, but deep down, you knew that you were just as eager to help ellie find release from her stress.

ellie chuckled low in her throat at how easily she could rile you up. your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils told her exactly how turned on you were despite your words.

with a mischievous grin, ellie met your plea while giving your breasts another b squeeze. "aw, come on, baby, don't pretend you don't love it when i get you all hot and bothered," she teased, her voice low and seductive.

ellie lived for the challenge of pushing your buttons and claiming your body as her own, even with others so close. the thrill of potentially getting caught only served to heighten her arousal.

she leaned in to nibble your earlobe sensually, "bet i can make you cum before we even leave this room." ellie's hand slid down your stomach to cup your clit through your jeans.

"what do you say? want to put on a little after show for me?" she gripped your ass firmly with her other hand, grinding you down against her. ellie knew all your secrets and weaknesses, and was more than willing to exploit them.

you couldn't help but mumble, "fuck," as your hands gripped on her hair. you moved in for another kiss without thinking twice as you were too needy to keep her mouth to yourself.

ellie kissed you hungrily, all her earlier arousal igniting into an inferno. she moaned against your mouth at the feel of your hands gripping her hair firmly. oh, how the girl loved it when you took charge and matched her dominance with your own.

it was as if she was starving for you, devouring your mouth possessively. she grounded up against your core, feeling how wet you were already through your jeans. ellie delighted in unraveling your composure and leaving you a panting, wanting mess.

her hands roamed your body possessively, gripping your ass to grind you down harder. ellie sucked your bottom lip between her teeth, nipping teasingly. she wanted you aching and desperate for her. your girlfriend loved how responsive your body was to her touch, how you melted under her.

breaking the kiss momentarily, ellie gazed up at you with eyes dark with lust. "god, you're so fucking hot. think anyone would notice if i made you come right here?"

she traced delicate patterns on your warm skin, teasing ever closer to your core. ellie lived to unravel you, reduce you to a flushed, quivering mess before claiming your pleasure as her own. she rolled her hips up in a slow, deep circle, applying delicious friction directly against your clit now. ellie was determined to push you over the edge before letting you leave this locker room.

ellie groaned at your nails scraping across her scalp, spurring her desire higher. she kissed you back fervently, delving her tongue between your lips to tangle with your own.

your desperate little noises only served to spur her on. ellie was going to thoroughly ravish you right here, right now, and to hell with anyone who might catch them. you were hers.

"you're gonna make a mess of your uniform," you managed to gasp out, your words challenged by hushed breaths and the rapid beating of your heart. in the grand scheme of things, her uniform should have been the least of your concerns, but your mind was clouded, rendering you unable to think clearly.

ellie chuckled low in her throat as you panted and squirmed in her lap. you were always so cute when she had you this worked up.

"that's what the showers are for, baby." she rolled her hips up in another slow, deep grind against your clit. ellie nibbled along your neck hungrily, branding you with love bites. "don't care about the uniform, i just want you,” she declared while kissing you hard, refusing to break eye contact as her hand slid under your low waisted jeans.

ellie knew exactly how to unravel you, where to touch to draw out your pleasure. she could feel your arousal soaking through your underwear as you ground yourself down against her hand. your girlfriend swallowed your soft moans, owning your mouth completely as your hips began to ride her expert fingers.

her hands slid under the famous eighty six jersey she lent you to caress and squeeze your breasts skin on skin. ellie tweaked your nipples between her fingertips, rubbing them into stiff peaks.

"bet you’re close already," ellie muttered. she kissed you fiercely, tongue plunging into your mouth in time with her grinding hips.

ellie was throbbing with her own needs but lived for your pleasure above her own. she would push you over the edge a thousand times just to see your blissful expression.

the hockey player took such pride and satisfaction in reducing you to a quivering mess so quickly. and she hadn't even fucked you properly yet. by the time she was through, you'd be putty in her hands.

she smirked, loving how close she had you already. you began subconsciously grinding yourself on her through, back and forth as you sucked her tongue in your mouth. your moans of pleasure were like music to her ears.

"that's it baby, ride my thigh. feel how wet you're making me?" she continued to talk you through, emphasizing her words by grinding up against your core once more.

ellie captivated your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy. her hands gripped your ass possessively, helping lift and lower your hips.

“ellie,” you mumbled, the intensity of the moment consuming you, as rational thoughts and the ability to express them struggled to break through the haze of desire.

the brunette's head quipped up as soon as she saw your beautiful visage. it was one of her favorite things to do at these times, to simply observe the obscene looks on your face that she made herself, tight with pleasure.

ellie took such pride and satisfaction in reducing you to a quivering mess so quickly. and she hadn't even fucked you properly yet. by the time she was through, you'd be putty in her hands.

“yeah? if you have something to say, you gotta use your words (y/n). so if you want it, then tell me you want to cum all over my hand while i fuck you right here,” ellie taunted, now nipping at your bottom lip, her husky voice dripping dominance and desire.

the words that escaped her lips left you stunned, rendering you momentarily speechless. your eyes watched her intently as she adjusted her stance against the wall. her every movement seemed deliberate, commanding your attention.

with trembling hands, you reached out to steady yourself against a nearby surface, the weight of her words sinking in as you opted for the wall behind ellie. as she moved her arm once more, your gaze followed. her strong fingers dipped past the fabric to tease your entrance eagerly. "come on baby, don't leave me hanging,” ellie ordered gruffly, knowing the sound of her voice could send you over the edge.

she held you flush against her body, grinding up to meet your every roll of hips. you swallowed each other's moans with deep kisses, tongues tangling erotically. ellie was determined to push you over the edge right here in this very locker room.

all of a sudden, a disruptive knocking sound echoed through the locker room door, shattering the fragile bubble of intimacy that had enveloped you both. a voice, belonging to joel, ellie's hockey coach, seeped through the other side, brimming with impatience.

"ellie, hurry up! the bus is outside, and our asses will leave you here to hitchhike if you don't come out in the next five minutes," joel's voice boomed, giving his last warning to your girlfriend.

you exchanged a knowing glance, the disappointment and longing apparent in your eyes. ellie growled in frustration as joel's voice interrupted your intense moment. of course, right when she was finally forgetting her problems, the problem came knocking on the door.

"shit," she muttered under her breath. ellie rested her forehead against yours as you both panted from being out of breath, the rhythm of your heartbeats gradually slowing, but the desire within you remaining unquenched.

"we're not done here," ellie whispered huskily, giving your ass a possessive squeeze.

louder so joel could hear, she called out, "yeah yeah, we're coming!" you tried not to laugh, but ellie giggled to herself, a sly smile on her face at the double meaning which caused you to roll your eyes.

ellie's lips pressed against yours for one final, ravenous kiss, a bittersweet taste that left you yearning for more. "we’re gonna finish this later, i promise,” she declared in a hushed tone, fueling what already thrummed between you.

with a playful slap on your ass whilst she got off the bench, ellie teased you, her touch electric against your skin. time was of the essence as you swiftly assisted her in changing out of her hockey gear and into more comfortable clothes.

the weight of disappointment settled upon both of you, and with mutual understanding, you tenderly brushed each other's disheveled hair back into place. gently, you attempted to wipe the sweat from each other's faces, trying to look as unsuspecting as possible. Not to mention, it was also severely embarrassing.

leaving the confines of the locker room, you stepped outside and joined ellie's teammates on the bus. taking your places among them, you immersed yourself in the multiple topics that would usually take place, ranging from animated discussions about the game to reflections on personal improvement and snippets of their everyday lives. or, they simply just talked shit about the other team and how stupid their name was—it could even go as far as saying how ugly and mismatched the team colors would be.

ellie knew you'd be aching for her touch until then. it would be a long, frustrating bus ride for both of you back to jackson. but the anticipation would make the payoff so much sweeter.

she knew she would get her after-game reward.

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herlondonboy · 9 months ago

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arms tonite, clarisse la rue

summary: I cry in the afterlife I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive I try to escape afterlife I try hard to get back inside your arms alive VERY loosely based off of this request

warnings: mc death obviously, sad everyone, my lack of knowledge on the battle of manhattan because i read the books 7 years ago

wc: 1.7k

you sit against the ancient tree, the bark rough against your back, a painful reminder of the chaos that unfolded. your fingers clutch your stomach, the pain intensifying with each passing moment, a stark contrast to the distant roars of battle. your chest throbs where the drakon's claws had viciously slashed you moments ago.

the air is thick with tension as you watch your friends and family, armed and determined, engage in the fierce battle of manhattan. the clash of weapons, the echoes of spells, and the monstrous roars resonate through the air, creating a cacophony that drowns the world around you.

your gaze shifts from one familiar face to another, each caught in the chaos of combat. the weight of your injuries pales in comparison to the heaviness in your heart as you realise the magnitude of the conflict. the realisation that more lives are at stake than just your own sends a shiver down your spine.

tears blur your vision as you witness the sacrifices being made for the greater good. the ground beneath you trembles with the resonance of battle, a painful reminder of the fragile line between victory and defeat. you wipe away the tears, a silent vow to honour those who fight alongside you.

despite the searing pain and the exhaustion that threatens to consume you, you summon the strength to stand. your every step is a battle against your own limitations. as you move towards the frontline, determination replaces despair. the stakes are too high, and you refuse to let the sacrifices of those around you be in vain.

with each step, you feel the weight of responsibility on your shoulders. the tree, once a refuge, now seems like an anchor holding you back. but you press forward, driven by a desire to protect the ones you love.

the battlefield unfolds before you like a tapestry of chaos, but you find a rhythm within it. your own pain becomes a fuel, transforming into a relentless determination. you join the fight, your weapon cutting through the air as you face the challenges that threaten your world.

in the midst of battle, you catch glimpses of your friends, their resilience mirroring your own. the scars on your chest throb in sync with the beating heart of the battle, a constant reminder of the price of survival. yet, you fight on, not just for yourself, but for the future of those you hold dear.

the battle of manhattan rages on, a testament to the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity. and as the dust settles, you stand amidst the fallen, a survivor, a witness to the sacrifices that define the heart of heroes.

locked in the chaos of battle, your eyes meet clarisse's across the tumultuous field. the concern etched on her face speaks volumes, a reflection of the scars left by the loss of silena beauregard. the memory of silena's sacrifice lingers, and clarisse fears history may repeat itself.

summoning every ounce of energy within you, you manage a reassuring smile for clarisse, a silent promise that you'll make it through. the connection between you two transcends the battlefield, a source of strength that fuels your determination.

as you let out a ferocious battle cry, it echoes through the turmoil, a proclamation of defiance against the forces that threaten your world. the resonance of your voice, joined by the battle cries of others, creates a symphony of resistance that shakes the very foundations of the battleground.

with renewed vigour, you charge back into the fray, your weapon slicing through the air as you engage with the enemies that stand before you. clarisse fights by your side, a formidable duo that refuses to be broken by the looming shadows of kronos.

the battlefield becomes a dance of blades and magic, each movement a calculated effort to turn the tides of war. your connection with clarisse strengthens your resolve, and together you weave through the chaos, fighting back the forces of darkness.

clarisse's concern transforms into determination as she witnesses your tenacity. the bond between you becomes a beacon of hope in the midst of despair. silena's sacrifice, though painful, serves as a reminder of the strength that arises from unity and love.

amidst the clash of weapons and the eruption of spells, you and clarisse carve a path forward. the battlefield is a canvas of struggle, but your shared commitment to each other becomes a driving force that propels you through the hardships.

as the battle unfolds, you find moments to lock eyes with clarisse, exchanging silent reassurances that you're still standing, that the darkness hasn't claimed you. the weight of her worry lessens with each shared glance, replaced by a growing confidence in your resilience.

the battle of manhattan rages on, but your bond with clarisse becomes a source of inspiration for those around you. the echoes of your battle cry reverberate through the hearts of allies, spurring them on to face the challenges that lie ahead. together, you fight not just for survival but for a future where love triumphs over the shadows that threaten to engulf the world.

tears stream down your face, mixing with the dirt and blood on your cheeks. the pain radiates through your body, each breath a struggle. clarisse's hands, stained with the battle's residue, continue to apply pressure to the wound, her movements desperate and unyielding.

"sorry," she mutters through her own sobs, her voice breaking with every apology. but despite the pain, you recognised the strength in her touch, the fierce determination to defy the cruel hand fate has dealt.

you wince as her hands press against the wound, the searing pain intensified by the pressure. your breath catches, and you find it harder to form words. finally, you manage to muster the strength to speak, "sto... stop!"

clarisse's hands fall to the side, and she looks at you with a mix of sorrow and regret. you can see the pain in her eyes as she watches you, helpless in the face of impending loss. "stop, please," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible over the battlefield's cacophony.

she apologises again, her hands cradling your head as if trying to shield you from the cruel reality. you can feel her trembling, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. in this shared vulnerability, the world around you seems to fade, leaving only the raw, painful connection between two souls entwined by love and loss.

as the battle continues to rage, clarisse stays by your side, her gaze fixed on your face. the chaos unfolds around you, a stark contrast to the stillness of this intimate, heartbreaking moment. in the hushed pauses between your sobs, you confess the fear that grips your heart, the terror of facing the unknown, of losing everything you hold dear.

"clarisse, i’m scared," you admit, your voice a fragile whisper.

clarisse's eyes well up with tears, but she brushes them away with the back of her hand. "you're not going anywhere," she insists, though the lie hangs heavy in the air, a bittersweet attempt to offer comfort in the face of inevitable tragedy.

the battlefield's rhythm continues, a cruel reminder of life's relentless march forward. you feel the grip of mortality tightening, each breath becoming shallower. clarisse leans in, her forehead touching yours, a final act of closeness in the fleeting moments that remain.

in the quiet between the clashes of war, your final breath escapes you. clarisse's hands still cradle your head, her eyes closed, as if trying to hold onto the fragile threads of your presence. the battlefield's chaos, now distant, becomes the backdrop to a heartbreaking silence.

clarisse stays there, lost in a mix of grief and disbelief. the world around her continues to turn, but in that stillness, she remains with you, holding onto the memory of love and loss amidst the echoes of battle.

clarisse, fueled by the searing pain of your loss, rises from the ground, her eyes reflecting the torment that lingers within. the battlefield, now stained with the blood of the fallen, becomes the canvas upon which she paints her grief and rage. without you to return to, her actions are untethered, reckless in the face of her newfound solitude.

she charges into the fray with a ferocity unmatched, each swing of her weapon cutting through the enemy lines. the air crackles with the energy of her relentless assault, a testament to the storm of emotions that rages within her. clarisse fights not only for victory but to drown out the haunting echoes of your final moments.

as she carves a path through the chaos, a determination burns in her eyes, a fire fueled by the memory of your courage. the world around her blurs, and she becomes a force of nature, unyielding in her pursuit of justice. her every movement is a declaration that your sacrifice will not be in vain.

the battle rages on, and as percy confronts kronos, the culmination of their struggles unfolds. in the aftermath of percy's victory, clarisse stands amidst the wreckage, alive but changed. the victory is bittersweet, and the reality of a world without you sets in.

chris rodriguez, battle-weary and scarred, kneels beside clarisse. he sees the turmoil in her eyes, the weight of a heart burdened with grief and guilt. without a word, he offers her a silent comfort, a presence that understands the scars etched into the soul.

clarisse, attempting to remain stoic, fights against the torrent of emotions threatening to consume her. but as the battlefield falls into an uneasy silence, she crumbles. tears stream down her face, a torrent of pain and regret released in a torrential downpour.

"i couldn't do it," she chokes out between sobs. "the one thing i was born to do, and i couldn't protect them." the realisation of her perceived failure gnaws at her, leaving her vulnerable in the aftermath of the war.

chris, with a gentleness unexpected from a seasoned warrior, places a hand on her shoulder. he understands the depth of her grief, having faced his own demons. in the quiet aftermath, they share a moment of shared sorrow, acknowledging the harsh reality of a world that demands sacrifices, even from those who fight with everything they have.

as the first light of dawn breaks over the battlefield, clarisse rises from her emotional abyss, a survivor forged in the crucible of loss. the scars of battle may fade, but the wounds of the heart linger, a reminder that even in victory, the cost can be immeasurable.

you cried that night. because you died in the arms of your lover, and it couldn't have been more perfect.

#clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse my beloved #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse pjo #elijah writes #lyric fic #angst #YIPPEE #please reblog

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pixelnrd · 4 months ago

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The bedroom that Jasmine and Ginger shared was suddenly becoming a source of tension as the girls entered adolescence. Previously a space for play, it was now a battleground for space. Jasmine, who was always spreading her make up over their shared desk, was constantly enraged by the mess of stuff that Ginger left everywhere around their bedroom.

There were frequent shouting matches between the girls most mornings these days - Jasmine accusing Ginger of being messy, Ginger fed up with Jasmine being bossy. It got to the point where Quincy, uninvolved yet subject to their explosions, decided something needed to be done to make them shut up.

'Why don't you move into my room,' he suggested to Ginger, feeling sorry for her more than Jasmine. 'I'll move into the basement.'

'You can't live in the basement!' exclaimed Ginger. But she didn't really care where Quincy lived, and took up the offer immediately.

Quincy made his way down to the basement below the house, full of old furniture and baby stuff. He felt like he'd made a mistake - it was dingy and cold down here. Was it really worth it to stop his sisters argueing?

But with a bit of effort, and some help from their Moms, Quincy was able to transform the basement into his own exclusive boys-only space. And upstairs, peace reigned as Jasmine and Ginger finally had their own spaces to be themselves.

I never wanna act my age - what's my age again? What's my age again? 🎶

#sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 historical #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #the langston legacy #gen 11 #1990s #quincy prescott jones #ginger prescott jones #jasmine prescott jones

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sinkovia · 10 months ago

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Polaroids

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Angst, mention of suicide, mention of death.

Underneath the winter sky, the world transformed into a pristine landscape of snow-covered fields and frost-kissed trees. You and Simon found yourselves amidst this winter wonderland, bundled up against the chill, ready to capture a moment frozen in time.

With the camera in your hand, you pulled Simon close, wrapping your arm around him as you both huddled together for a picture. There was anticipation in the air as you counted down. "Three!" you exclaimed, and just as the flash burst into life, Simon seized the opportunity. A mischievous grin played on his lips as he swiftly smashed a snowball onto your head right at the moment the picture was taken.

"Simon!" a mix of laughter and surprise in your voice. Your hair was dusted with snow, and you looked at him with mock indignation, but the gleam in your eyes hinted at joy. Simon, with a mischievous grin, reveled in the success of his snow assault.

The snowball ambush marked the beginning of a delightful chaos. Laughter echoed through the winter air as you both dodged, ducked, and retaliated with fluffy ammunition. The pristine landscape transformed into a battleground, each throw leaving its mark on the snowy canvas.

As you dodged and weaved, Simon's infectious laughter filled the air, his playful spirit contagious. Eventually, he closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You felt a mischievous glint in his eyes, and before you could react, he playfully brought you down into the soft snow. The cold powder cushioned the fall, and you found yourself rolling together, laughter bubbling up between you.

In the midst of the snowy tussle, the world around you blurred into a playful dance of white. The winter air was filled with the sounds of your laughter and the soft crunch of snow.

Eventually, the playful roll came to a gentle stop, leaving you on top of Simon. Amidst the falling glistening snowflakes, you looked into each other's eyes, the two of you catching your breath between fits of laughter.

As your laughter gradually faded into a contented quiet, you leaned down, your smile lingering, and pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss. The softness of the snow beneath you mirrored the tenderness of the stolen moment, and the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in your snowy sanctuary.

In the midst of this tender exchange, a soft click resonated. You turned your gaze to the right, where Simon held up the camera, capturing another candid moment, immortalizing the post-snowball fight kiss.

Taking the polaroid, you began to huff warm air onto it, warding off the haziness that the cold weather threatened to impose. Squinting at the image, a frown creased your features.

"What's wrong, love?"

"My face is all hazy, damn cold weather."

"Let me see." you turned the photo over so he could examine it with squinted eyes.

"Hmm, only a little, but why would I look at a picture when I'll always have you next to me?" Shaking your head, you kissed him again. "For memories, Si."

Those words echoed in Simon's mind as he held the Polaroid in his hand, sitting alone on a bench. The serene snowy landscape looked dull and gray without you. It had been a year since you passed, your life cut short by a drunk driver hitting the passenger side of the car. The memory of that tragic day haunted him, and the Polaroid served as a bittersweet reminder of the love and laughter that once filled his life.

In the quiet solitude, Simon vividly recalled the moment he turned to look at you in the passenger seat. Laughter filled the car as you both shared a moment over an awful joke. He just wanted another glimpse of you laughing, savoring the way you closed your eyes and held a hand to your stomach in pure joy. Your radiant smile, the tears in your eyes—he longed to see your radiance, a sight he had always cherished.

Then came the headlights on the other side of the passenger window. Panic set in, and Simon tried to react, to steer away, anything to shield you from the impending danger. But it was too late. The impact sent the car flipping several times before landing upright. Simon, initially dazed, was jolted into awareness by the sound of your labored attempts to breathe, a shard of glass embedded on the left side of your neck.

You turned to look at him, tears streaming down your face. Pure desperation filled his gaze as he swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching over to hold your neck in an attempt to stop the blood spurting from your neck.

"S…si…" Your eyes conveyed agony as your choked attempts at breathing became more shallow.

"Shh, sweetheart, it's okay baby. You're gonna be okay, I promise." He spoke with a tremor in his voice, desperately denying the gravity of the situation when your hand fell limp from your neck, landing in your lap. He reassured himself that you were still alive.

"Help is coming, baby, I promise. Just hang in there, okay? For me, can you do that for me, baby?" His words were a desperate plea, and when he heard you stop trying to breathe, he continued to deny the reality, reassuring himself that you were still alive.

"Just breathe slow, sweetheart. Please, just breathe, baby. Please just—" When your head slumped against his shoulder, he felt his hands begin to shake, a lump forming in his throat that made it hard for him to speak.

"Y/n, baby, I need you to lift… I need you to lift your head up, baby. I can't… I can't." He choked out a sob as his hands slowly moved away from your neck. He started heaving in breaths as he threw open the driver door and collapsed on the ground. His chest tightened, and his heart raced a million miles per hour. He couldn't bear to see your lifeless body. He clawed at his chest as a sharp pain tore through.

He was having a heart attack.

The paramedics arrived just in time to tend to Simon, nearly saving his life, a fact he later cursed them for. Why couldn't they just let him follow you into the afterlife?

Staring at the two Polaroids in his hand, he longed to go back to that day. Back to a time when everything that reminded him of you didn't cause insurmountable pain, a time when he still felt warmth—a time when you were still alive.

Despite the accident not being his fault, Simon carried the burden of self-blame, haunted by the regret of not noticing the oncoming car. The echoes of that fateful day lingered, casting a shadow over the stark winter scene surrounding him. Rising from the bench, he walked back to the house you once shared—a place you had made a home.

In the hallway, he stopped and looked at the framed photo of both of you, taken on your first date. You insisted on framing it, and he softly smiled, almost hearing your voice echo through the walls of the house.

He continued walking until he reached the edge of the bed, where he sat down and pulled out his phone, dialing 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

“I heard gunshots at my neighbor's house, the address is 1311 Amberville Rd,” he reported stoically before hanging up and reaching for the metal box under his side of the bed. Slowly opening it, he revealed a pistol.

He tried his best to carry on, to honor the memories you had together, to keep you alive through the love in his heart. However, the weight of living without you became unbearable. Tired of waking up each day without you by his side, exhausted from the relentless nightmares that plagued him.

He was simply tired of experiencing life without you.

He took the gun from the box, raising it to his temple. Without hesitating he pulled the trigger.

His eyes flew open, and he quickly sat up in bed, confusion clouding his gaze as he realized it looked just like your shared home. The surroundings appeared brighter, more vivid than before. Slowly getting up, he walked through the hallway, glancing at the framed picture on the wall before searching the entire house, only to find it empty. Opening the front door, he stepped outside, the soft crunch of snow under his shoes echoing with each step. The snow seemed to stretch out for miles, and trees covered in a thin layer of snow surrounded the yard.

Furrowing his brows at the unfamiliar scene, he noticed it was odd—they never had trees in their front yard. He remembered your dream of having big oak and willow trees. He smiled when he remembered the small pout you made when he told you that trees take years to grow full size.

Suddenly, a snowball crashed onto the side of his head. He heard your laughter and turned wide-eyed to see you running up, tackling him to the soft snowy ground. Rolling with you until he stopped, you ended up on top of him. He looked up at you in disbelief, tears welling in his eyes. Cupping your face with shaky hands, he questioned if it was too good to be true. Was he dreaming again? No, this felt too real. You felt too real.

“Y/n?” You smiled and gently pressed your lips to his.

“You came too early, Si.” He shook his head, his eyes bouncing all over your features. “I didn't come soon enough. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, love.” You smiled as you gazed down at him, your heart swelling. He combed his fingers through your hair.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.” You nestled your head in the crook of his neck. He took in a deep breath, your scent filling him with warmth. “I missed you too, Si.”

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guywithbeer · 2 years ago

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Enjoy this gameplay video of the turn based tactical game, TRANSFORMERS BATTLEGROUNDS.

#transformers battlegrounds #transformers #gameplay #xbox #videogames #turn based tactics #gamepass #gaming

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prettyforwoso · 10 months ago

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Lay Back Baby

Lucy Bonze x Ona Batlle smut

Summary: Ona is staying home from training with the cold, yearning for Lucy's touch, she pushes the the whole day without, the second Lucy gets home, she knows what she needs.

a/n: Based on the large amounts of requests for this one !! hope you enjoy :) requests open

Ona awoke with a heavy sense of lethargy, her body feeling like a battleground between fatigue and discomfort. The room around her was dimly lit, the soft glow of daylight filtering through the curtains casting a muted atmosphere. As she blinked away the remnants of sleep, the realization of her sickness settled in, a weight on her chest that matched the heaviness in her head.

The air in the room felt stale, and Ona's groggy mind struggled to focus. Her and Lucys room, once a haven of comfort, now seemed foreign, as if the familiar surroundings had transformed into an unfamiliar landscape in the course of her nap. She gingerly sat up, her limbs protesting with every movement, and the blankets clung to her like an extra layer of fatigue.

Ona's nose was stuffy, her throat scratchy, and a persistent ache echoed through her body. She reached for the tissue box on her bedside table, a comforting ally in the battle against her symptoms. Each tissue she pulled out seemed to absorb a small part of her misery as she blew her nose, the soft sound a pitiful reminder of her unwell state.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the outside world continued its oblivious hustle. The play of sunlight on the curtains formed patterns that danced in a rhythm detached from her own discomfort. Ona sighed, the sound a mixture of resignation and frustration, as she contemplated the tasks and responsibilities that awaited her beyond the confines of the couch.

She remembered how Lucy always took care of her when she was unwell – making tea, giving forehead touches, and saying comforting things. Ona scrolled through pictures of them together, smiling and happy. She sent Lucy a text, telling her how much she needed her right now.

Ona: missing you baby…

sent

Wrapped up in her blankets, she waited for Lucy's reply, hoping for some comfort. When Lucy's message came, it was like a virtual hug. Lucy promised to be home soon, and Ona felt a bit better just thinking about it. With the idea of Lucy's return from training in mind, Ona relaxed, knowing that love had the power to make her feel better even when she was at her sickest.

She peeled her body off the couch and headed for their bedroom, hoping to find a change of clothing, clinging to the idea that it might make a feel better to freshen up. She pulled out some sweat shorts and one of Lucys jerseys, desperate for anything from her, even just her smell.

Her legs led her to the kitchen, where she found herself making some toast, too exhausted for any sort of creativity if it included any sort of hard work.

She’s been sitting around all day, occasionally moving location to follow the days sunlight, but no amount of light would satisfy her intense craving for the touch of Lucy. Her mind wandered, the idea of Lucy laying her down and having her cum over and over, all she needed was for Lucy to be inside of her, and any kind of way, Ona was not feeling picky.

Her sudden burst of energy came when she heard Lucys keys in the front door. Her body was lifted from the bed out of excitement, her feet skidding on the floor as she ran to the door, jumping into the arms of her girl.

Lucy didn’t even have time put her stuff down, having to drop it to support Onas tiny frame, wrapped around her waist.

“Hey baby” Lucy says, gently placing her down.

“Lucy, I have missed you so much today” Ona says looking up at her, with the strong grip on the centre of Lucys shirt, scared by the idea of letting go.

Lucy leans down and presses a kiss on Onas soft lips, not worrying about getting sick, if anything, it would give them time off together.

Ona raised herself onto the tips of her toes, desperate to get the most of out Lucys mouth. She wraps an arm around her neck, pulling her closer.

“Oh, you really have missed me haven’t you little thing” Lucy says, breaking the contention.

Ona simply bites her lip in response.

“No baby, you are sick and need rest” Lucy tells Ona with the stern tone. Ona is in her lap, getting more and more needy by the second.

The pair have been on the couch simply making out for a while now, Ona in Lucys lap, as per usual, desperately grinding small on the tiny seem of Lucys pants that are rubbing on her needy clit.

“Lucy please” Ona begins the whining. “You can’t leave me alone all day, them come home and refuse to fuck me” she finishes with a mumble.

“I can when you are sick darling girl” Lucy delicately fights back.

“agh Lucy please, I’m all wet, and you’re the person I want to share that with” Ona begging is something that could almost get Lucy on her knees for the small girl.

Lucys body has a physical reaction to Onas words. A long deep breathe escapes her mouth and her eyes soften. “Your all, wet baby?” she says, trying not to give in to her racing mind when she quotes Onas words. “I don’t want to hurt you sweet girl”

Ona is quick to reply “You’re not going to hurt me Lucy” she says franticly trying to get the words off her tongue. “Just please open my legs and fuck me” She shoots Lazers into Lucys eyes “Please Lucy”

“Stay here for a second” Lucy says, lifting Onas frame off her and on to the couch, leaving the room and leaving Ona alone. She isn’t sure is her begging had worked out in her favour or not, but alas, she did as she was told and stayed on the couch.

Lucy is soon to return to her good girl. A strap in one hand, and a small dildo in the other. Ona has never been the type to be able to take anything big, and Lucy has never wanted to push her too hard.

Ona makes space for her on the couch and Lucy lays her body down, motioning for Ona to straddle her waist once more. Ona places her body weight down and leans into the lips of Lucy. Lucys hand wraps around the back of her neck not allowing her to leave the kiss until she was finished.

Lucy pulls Ona by the back of the neck away from the kiss “Baby my face” she begins “Come onto it okay”.

Ona doesn’t have to answer, she quickly pulls herself Lucy and starts to undress. “keep the shirt on pretty girl” Lucy instructs, referring to the ‘Bronze’ jersey that Ona wore loose on her shoulders.

Ona doesn’t need to be asked twice. She knows the way Lucy just gets weak in the knees at the sight of Ona in her jerseys. Something the possession it holds. Her name, on Onas back

Lucy manhandles Onas body to the way she wants her, before pulling her onto her face. Ona breath hitches at the sudden friction of Lucys nose on her clit. Onas bare bottom half finds itself begining to grind back and forth on the face of her girlfriend. With Lucys slick tongue exploring its way around Onas’s hole, Lucy finds that its just not quite enough for her. Lucys arms wrap around Onas spread thighs, digging her nails into her ass and pulling her down, forcing her to put all her body weight onto her tongue.

It usually takes a lot of reassurance to get Ona to fully place herself onto Lucys mouth, always being hesitant that she will hurt her somehow, but Lucy is always quick to deny that idea. Sometimes even having to go as far as holding her down onto her face with all her strength. Lucy fucking loves it. Onas’s thighs around her head, her slick dripping down her chin.

Onas getting good use out of Lucys noes, feeling the texture of her skin on her most intimate parts. Lucys tongue is venturing in and out, occasional pressing flat on her hole, catching all her leaking goodness, swallowing it with pure bliss.

The mix of Lucys mouth and her strong eye contract from beneath her, has Ona beginning to spiral. She knows she doesn’t need to communicate this with Lucy. Having been clearly aware due to the speed in which her actions were getting too. Lucys grip on Ona was pulling her even further with each second that pasted. Lucy could barely breath underneath her, something that hardly worried her, knowing how fast she could get to Onas high.

“Agh, yes Lucy” Onas frantic pleading has Lucy smiling against her. “Yes Lucy” her pitch gets higher at the end of each statement. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, telling out a smooth hum of a moan as she lets herself go into Lucys mouth, shaking her legs and squeezing them around her head.

Ona steals a breath from the air, moving herself off Lucys face and sitting on her clothed stomach. Lucy being fully clothed with Ona bare wasn’t a completely uncommon practice in the household.

“Ona darling help me put this on”. Lucy breaks the silence, referring the strap in her hands, passing it to Ona. She moves down Lucys body and kneels between her legs. She picks it from Lucys hands, fiddling with the harness and getting it around Lucys hips, covered by her boxers.

“You think you can take this one baby girl?” Lucy double checks, the strap is small, but so is Ona, and the last thing Lucy wanted was to push her when she was sick.

“Yes, ill be good” Ona struggles to get full words out, due to the pure bliss she feels, just looking at the toy in front of her.

Lucy takes the answer, tightening the harness to her waist before pushing Ona further down. “I was you back to face me while you ride my cock” Lucy says, in a gently demanding tone.

Onas bottom lip is swollen from all the bitting, Lucys voice and demanding tone, not helping the situation. Ona grabs a hold of Lucys thighs for balance, turning herself around and putting her legs over Lucys waist. Onas’s ass sits on Lucys stomach, Lucys hands find it almost immediately. She lifts herself up with the help of Lucys grip and hovers over the strap, nervous about letting herself fall.

Ona suddenly feels tired, worried she might do this the wrong way. She stays hovering for more than usual and Lucy begins to wonder the expression on her girlfriend’s face.

“Can you take it sweat girl?” Lucy asks again, in an almost teasing tone this time.

Ona doesn’t reply, beginning to squirm in her position.

“Darling, do you need help?” Lucy asks, caressing the skin of Onas soft ass.

“yeah”

“Lay back for me” Lucy pulls her back. “Come on, nice and comfy”.

Ona relaxes into the precents of Lucy, legs spread wide and open. Lucys hand sneaks under her and onto the toy, lining it up with Onas’s cunt.

“Look at me” Lucy says, turning Onas’s face to look her in the eye as she thrusts herself in, so slowly, so soft.

Ona’s gentle moan has her snuggling into Lucys grip. Lucys hands now holding Ona’s legs open as she slowly thrusts in and out, causing Ona to whine in her hold.

“Shh baby girl. I know you can take it” Lucy places kisses all over Onas red face. Her pace starting to speed up, much to the overwhelming pleasure of Ona.

“yes, yes lucy” Onas words come out more breathy and pathetic than intended.

Lucy legs go of one thigh to hold Onas’s face, looking down into her eyes, Ona looks like she’s been to a whole new level of pleasure. Eyes watering and checks red.

“Are you going to cum for me like this?” Lucy asks, already knowing the answer.

Ona can’t get words out, simply humming in reply as she begins to shake in Lucys grip. Lucy responses by going deeper, getting a yelp from Ona, who now finds refuge in the neck of her girlfriend.

“Let go baby” It’s all Ona need to hear before she is riding an absolute high, legs shaking and hips rocking, she floats to the point of pure stimulation, no longer feeling anything around her but the warm embrace of Lucy, who, without Onas’s knowledge had completely pulled out of her.

“Good girl, shhh baby, you’re okay” Lucy says, helping Ona gain control of her breathing and come back to the room, her mind elsewhere.

“sh sh sh, deep breaths” Ona’s breathing returns and she is turned over, chest to chest with Lucy who takes her hair in her hand, stocking her scalp with nothing but pure love.

“My good baby”

#ona batlle #lucybronze #lucy x ona #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso community #woso #lionesses #woso fanfics #womens football #woso imagine #woso soccer #woso x reader #fcb femeni #lucy bronze #smut promts #fluff #sickness #fanfic

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slavicdelight · 11 months ago

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The Last Embrace

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Lannister! OC

Summary: Lorelle, Tywin Lannister's youngest daughter, forms an unexpected alliance with Oberyn Martell after defeating him in a duel. Their love blossoms, but tragedy strikes when jealousy leads to everything falling apart.

Warnings: death, cursing, angst

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In the heart of the Westerlands, Tywin Lannister welcomed his youngest daughter into the world, a fierce and spirited girl named Lorelle. From the beginning, her fiery nature clashed with the traditional expectations of a lady born into such a prestigious family.

As Lorelle grew, her independent spirit grew with her, driving her further away from learning of noble etiquette. She abandoned needlework for the training yard, where she observed the art of swordsmanship. Tywin, torn between pride and concern, could only watch as her interest differed from other young noble ladies. Word of Lorelle's exceptional skill with sword spread through the Seven Kingdoms, reaching the ears of Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper of Dorne. Although he despised the Lannisters for what happened to his beloved sister Elia, he was curious if the rumours were true.

The first encounter between the two was marked by a clash of swords, or in this case - a spear and a sword. Each duel became a battleground for dominance, a fierce dance where neither was willing to yield.Oberyn's disdain for the Westerlands and its houses fueled the fire of their rivalry. In his eyes Lorelle was not just an opponent but a symbol of everything he despised about the realm.

Despite their hatered for each other, they decided to combine forces to travel together through Essos.The tension between them kept both nobles balanced on the egde.Yet, amidst the clashes, moments of understanding and mutual respect began to emerge.It wasn't until a decisive duel where Lorelle emerged triumphant that Oberyn's disdain began to shift. As he lay defeated, he finally acknowledge her skill. The dislike eventually evolved into a strange alliance, a bond forged on the edge of blades and the heat of their conflicting personalities.

During their tumultuous journey, Lorelle and Oberyn faced numerous challenges, each encounter adding layers to their complex relationship.One day, as they were riding through Pentos, a group of men attacked them. They were strong and quick. It was obvious that they’ve been trained to steal and kill. Thankfully, Oberyn's quick thinking and combat finesse saved Lorelle from an ambush, blurring the lines between adversary and ally. The tension that once defined their interactions slowly transformed into something more.

When Oberyn knelt before her, proposing a marriage with sincerity in his eyes, the tension reached its zenith. Tywin, recognizing the potential for an alliance, reluctantly agreed to their union. Lorelle became the Princess of Dorne, thrust into a political landscape that mirrored the complexities of her relationship with Oberyn.Yet, tragedy struck their already fragile union.

Ellaria Sand, fueled by jealousy and resentment, plotted against Lorelle. In a venomous act of betrayal, she poisoned the Princess of Dorne. As Lorelle's life slipped away, Oberyn's grief transformed into a burning desire for revenge, reigniting the tension between them in a different, more profound way. In a fit of righteous fury, Oberyn confronted Ellaria. The clash was brutal, mirroring the intensity of his battles with Lorelle.

In the end, justice was served, but the cost was high. Oberyn stood still after delivering avenging the woman he loved, a shattered man, his heart torn between the love he discovered and the unresolved tension that lingered between him and the memory of Lorelle.

In the aftermath, the halls of Sunspear echoed with a haunting silence. Oberyn, having avenged Lorelle, found himself with conflicting emotions. The memory of their fierce clashes lingered, intertwined with the love he discovered and the unresolved tension that defined their relationship.

As Princess of Dorne, Lorelle's absence left a void in the court. The alliances formed through her marriage hung in delicate balance. Oberyn, once fueled by a desire for revenge, now faced the aftermath of his actions. The people of Dorne witnessed a Red Viper who had lost his venom, a man torn between the love he found and the ghosts of his tumultuous past. The court of Sunspear whispered of Lorelle's legacy – a fiery princess who defied conventions, a skilled swordswoman who left a mark on the pages of history. Yet, the tragedy that befell her cast a shadow over the realm, a stark reminder of the fragility of alliances and the cost of vengeance.

Oberyn, haunted by the memories of Lorelle, retreated into solitude. The tension that once fueled their clashes now manifested as an internal struggle within him. The flames of revenge had consumed him, and in their wake, he was left with the ashes of regret.In the quiet corridors of Sunspear, Oberyn's gaze lingered on the places where he and Lorelle had faced both adversaries and each other. The sword that once clashed with hers now rested, a silent witness to the battles fought and the love lost.As the years passed, Dorne found itself in a delicate dance of politics and intrigue.

The memory of Lorelle became both a symbol of defiance and a cautionary tale. Oberyn, a once vibrant force, moved through the shadows of the court, a man forever marked by the flames that burned between him and the Princess of Dorne. And so, the tale of Lorelle and Oberyn became a legend – a story of love, rivalry, and the high cost of vengeance that echoed through the corridors of Sunspear, leaving behind a legacy as enduring as the ancient stones of the castle.

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A/N: This is a shorter story, but I hope you'll enjoy it just like the other ones.

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whereforarthur · 2 months ago

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Love and Hate are Blurred Lines

Pairing: George Clarkey x Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Category: Smut

*****

I loved her. I still love her, though I curse her in my sleep, so nearly one are love and hate, the two most powerful and devastating emotions that control man, nations, life. - Edgar Rice Bourroughs

“Why are you always so... infuriating?" George Clarkey's voice echoed through the cobblestone streets of London, bouncing off the brick walls of the alleyway where they stood, face to face.

The rain pattered softly against the ground, mingling with the distant sound of the city's heartbeat. The air had the scent of damp earth and the ever-present aroma of tea shops that permeated the neighborhood. Y/n stared back at him, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and something else, something deeper. It was a dance they'd performed a hundred times before, each step a silent challenge, each glance a wordless retort.

George's grip tightened on her wrists, his eyes searching hers for a hint of the fire he knew was hidden beneath her defiant exterior. The energy between them was palpable, a taut wire stretched to its breaking point. Every touch, every breath was a spark that could ignite the smoldering embers of their tumultuous relationship. They were two magnets, forever drawn together by an irresistible force, yet forever repelled by their own volatile natures.

Y/n felt a tremor run through her as his warm breath ghosted over her neck, sending shivers down her spine. The rain had matted her hair to her face, but she didn't dare move to brush it away, not with his body pressing so insistently against hers. She knew this game, knew the thrill of the chase and the sweet agony of surrender. Her heart raced, a wild stallion fighting the reins of propriety. She wanted to beg him to stop, but she also wanted him to never let her go.

The words she wanted to scream remained lodged in her throat, transforming into a whimper as his mouth traveled lower, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin above her collarbone. Her body betrayed her, arching into him despite the anger burning in her eyes. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a silent battle they both craved and feared in equal measure.

George felt the shift in her, the moment her resistance crumbled like sand beneath the relentless tide of his passion. He took a step closer, his body a cage around hers, his mouth now a whisper away from hers. "You're mine," he murmured, the words a promise and a threat. Y/n's eyes fluttered shut, and she could almost taste the desperation in her own breath as she responded, "Always."

Their kiss was explosive, a clash of teeth and tongues that left them both gasping for air. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her roughly against him as he ground his erection into her stomach. The world around them faded into a symphony of sensation, the rain a gentle backdrop to the storm raging within them. The alleyway was their sanctuary, their battleground, where the lines between love and hate were so blurred that they were indistinguishable.

George's voice was a dark caress in her ear, detailing his every desire. "I'm going to strip you bare, leave you exposed and trembling before me," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "I'll kiss every inch of you, licking away the last of your innocence until you're begging for the relief only I can give." His words were a potent mix of seduction and domination, leaving her knees weak and her mind racing with anticipation.

The cobblestones were cold and rough against her back as he pushed her against the alley wall, his body a solid presence that seemed to swallow hers whole. He kissed her harder, his tongue demanding entry to her mouth, which she granted eagerly. The world around them melted away, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the thump of their racing hearts.

Y/n's legs wrapped around George's waist, her heels digging into his back as she pulled him closer, urging him to consume her. The rain soaked through her dress, plastering it to her body, revealing every curve and contour. He groaned, his eyes raking over her with a hunger that was almost feral.

His hands found the zipper of her dress, and with one swift motion, it was pooling around her ankles, leaving her in nothing but her sodden underwear. He took a step back, admiring the beauty of her form, the way the rain painted her body, making her seem almost ethereal. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze.

He slid his hand into her panties, his fingers finding her slick heat. A gasp tore from her chest as he began to explore her, his touch sure and confident. The alley was theirs, a hidden stage for their carnally charged dance. The grime and the grit of the city only served to heighten the illicitness of their encounter, the stark contrast between the cold, hard stones and the warm, soft flesh of their bodies.

Her hips rolled against his hand, seeking more friction, more pleasure. His thumb found her clit, stroking it in slow, torturous circles that had her biting her lip to keep from screaming out. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice a dark symphony in her ear. "So fucking wet for me."

The words were like gasoline on a flame, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her whole. She bucked against his hand, desperation seeping into her movements. The alley was a blur of shadow and light, the only real thing in her world the feeling of him touching her, owning her, making her feel alive in a way she never had before.

"Beg for it," he whispered, his voice a dark command that sent a shiver down her spine. "Beg me to make you come."

Her eyes snapped open, meeting his intense gaze. "Please," she rasped, her voice barely audible over the hammering of her heart. "Please, George, make me come."

He leaned in, his teeth grazing her neck as he picked up the pace, his fingers working her with a skill that left her trembling. The alley was a cocoon of desire, the world outside forgotten as she focused solely on the sensations he was pulling from her. Her breath grew shallower, her moans growing louder with each stroke.

"You're so close," he murmured, his own breath hot and ragged. "Let go for me, baby."

And with those words, she did. Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving her a trembling mess in his arms. He didn't stop, though, his fingers relentless as he pushed her through the peak and into the blissful oblivion beyond. The alley was a canvas for their passion, painted with the vibrant colors of lust and need.

As the tremors subsided, y/n leaned her head against the cool brick wall, panting heavily. George's grip on her wrists loosened, his touch turning gentle as he traced the red marks he'd left. "You're mine," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Mine to ruin."

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his once more. The hunger in his gaze was unmistakable, and she knew that this was only the beginning. With a nod, she whispered, "Yes, I'm yours."

They were lost in a world of their own making, a world where only the two of them existed. The rain fell harder, a physical manifestation of their tumultuous emotions.

As George's mouth found hers again, y/n could feel the beginnings of something she hadn't expected, something that scared her more than his dominance ever had. Love. It was a feeling she'd buried deep, a treasure she'd kept hidden from the pirate who'd stolen her heart. But now, as he claimed her body with a ferocity that bordered on obsession, she realized she could no longer deny it.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a silent confession of the love and hate that had twisted and tangled them together. The sounds of the city were muted by the rhythm of their breaths and the slap of skin on skin. In that moment, they were the only two people in the world, their hearts beating in sync like a drum that sang the story of their tumultuous love.

He leaned in, capturing her mouth in another bruising kiss, his hand still buried in her pants, her legs wrapped around his waist. The cobblestones dug into her back, but she didn't care. All that mattered was the feel of him, the taste of him, the promise of what was to come.

For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the thunder a mournful lullaby to their shattered hearts. And then, as if on cue, George's grip loosened, and he took a step back, breaking the spell. Y/n felt the cold seep into her bones as the reality of what they'd just done set in.

They were two people who'd danced on the edge of a volcano for too long, and now they were teetering on the brink of an eruption. The lines between love and hate had become so indistinguishable that it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.

"Look what you've done," George murmured, his voice thick with a mix of satisfaction and disbelief as he stepped back to survey the wreckage of their clothing and the battleground of their desires. Rain dripped from his eyelashes, painting a stark contrast against the fiery need in his eyes.

Y/n shivered, not from the cold, but from the stark reality of their situation. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. "It's what we both wanted," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the patter of rain. The words hung in the air, a feeble attempt to justify the tumultuous maelstrom of emotions that swirled within her.

He reached out, brushing a wet lock of hair from her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone with a tenderness that seemed out of place in the harshness of the alley. "We're a disaster waiting to happen," he said, his voice filled with a sadness that made her chest ache. "But I can't stay away from you."

The rain had soaked through her underwear, leaving her trembling not just from the cold but from the intensity of their encounter. George noticed and his eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to her trembling body. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his warmth as he carried her out of the alley and into the relative shelter of a nearby doorway.

There, out of the rain, he set her down, his hands lingering on her waist. The intimacy of the moment washed over her like a wave, crashing down the barriers she had built to keep him at bay. "We're not good for each other," she whispered, her voice cracking with the effort it took to form the words.

"But we're so good together," he countered, his breath warm against her ear. His hand slid up her back, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her in for another kiss, one that was softer, slower, more deliberate than the ones that had come before. It was a kiss that spoke of love and regret, of passion and pain.

The rain continued to fall around them, a silent chorus to their unspoken confessions. They were a mess of tangled limbs and emotions, their hearts beating together like two wild animals caught in a hunter's snare. And as the storm raged on, they realized that their love was the eye of the hurricane, a calm yet destructive force that had the power to consume them both.

Their breaths mingled in the damp air, each one a silent promise of what was to come. The tension between them was a living entity, pulsing and growing with every second that ticked by. They knew they couldn't sustain this tempestuous dance forever, but for now, they were content to be lost in the storm, two souls forever entwined in a passion that was as fiery as it was destructive.

George's eyes searched hers, a tempest of emotions swirling within their depths. "You drive me mad," he whispered, his voice a hoarse growl that sent shivers down her spine. "But without you, I'm nothing." His thumb traced the line of her jaw, a gentle caress that belied the strength of his grip on her hips.

Y/n leaned into his touch, her body craving the warmth and the pain that came with it. "And you're my addiction," she admitted, her voice barely above a murmur. "One I can't seem to quit." The words hung in the air, a stark confession that seemed to echo the very essence of their tumultuous relationship.

The rain fell harder, a relentless symphony that mirrored the intensity of their feelings. They were two halves of the same coin, forever spinning towards each other, forever repelling at the last second. The lines between love and hate were so blurred that they could no longer tell where one began and the other ended. It was a dance of desire and anger, a dance that had no clear beginning or end.

Their kisses grew more desperate, as if trying to fill the void that threatened to swallow them whole. Each touch was a declaration of war, each caress a silent apology. They were two people caught in the crossfire of their own emotions, their hearts a battleground where love and hate waged a never-ending war.

The alley was their sanctuary, their prison, a place where they could let go of the facades they wore for the world outside. Here, in the shadows, they were free to be the monsters that lurked within them, free to embrace the chaos that defined their bond.

The thunder crashed overhead, a fitting soundtrack to the tumultuous scene playing out between them. Y/n's hands clawed at George's back, her nails leaving trails of red on his skin. He didn't flinch, instead, he reveled in the pain, feeding off of it like it was the air he breathed. It was a twisted symphony of love and aggression, a dance that could only end in one way.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed her against the cold brick wall, his hips grinding into hers with a desperation that was almost palpable. She could feel him, hard and insistent, the evidence of his need pressing into her stomach. The rain soaked through her clothes, making her shiver, but it was his touch that set her alight, turning her tremors into a bonfire of passion.

Their movements grew more frantic, each touch a declaration of war, each kiss a silent surrender. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a battle of wills that had no clear victor. They were two lost souls, forever caught in the hurricane of their own making, destined to either destroy each other or be destroyed by the very love that bound them together.

And as the thunder roared and the lightning illuminated the alley in stark white flashes, they gave themselves over to the storm, letting it consume them, letting it tear them apart. The rain fell in sheets, a curtain that shielded them from the prying eyes of the world, allowing them to be nothing more than two bodies, two hearts, two souls intertwined in a passion that defied logic and reason.

In that moment, as the storm raged on, they were free. Free from the constraints of society, free from the expectations of their peers, free from the very essence of who they were supposed to be. They were simply George and y/n, two people who had found refuge in the chaos of their love.

The alley was their battleground, their lovers' lane, a place where the lines between love and hate blurred into something so potent, so all-consuming, that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. It was a love that could either save them or destroy them, and as they stood there, drenched and trembling, they knew that they would never truly escape the storm that was their love.

George's hands roamed over her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Each touch was a silent apology, each kiss a promise of more pain to come. Y/n's breath hitched as his fingers danced over her skin, her body a canvas for his artistry of passion and aggression. She could feel the blurred lines of their emotions coiling around them, tightening with every beat of their hearts.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, she saw the love and the hate, the desire and the anger, the tenderness and the brutality. It was a toxic cocktail that had them both in its thrall, a dance that could only end in ruin. But even as she knew this, she couldn't help but lean into his embrace, craving the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his kiss.

The rain fell harder, a blessed relief against the heat of their bodies. The cold water washed away the tears that had mingled with the sweat on her face, a silent confession of the turmoil within her. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, as if she could somehow absorb his very essence into her own being.

Their breaths grew ragged, their movements more frantic as they sought to claim each other completely. The thunder rumbled above them, a bass line to their passionate symphony, as if the heavens themselves were applauding their tumultuous love.

Their kisses grew deeper, more demanding, as if they could drown in each other's mouths and never come up for air. The rain fell in a torrent, a mirror to the emotions that surged through them. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a battle of wills that had no clear winner.

Y/n felt herself slipping, losing herself in the chaos of their love. Her body arched against his, her legs tightening around his waist as he pinned her against the wall. The world outside was a distant memory, replaced by the pounding of their hearts and the slickness of their skin.

The lightning flashed, illuminating their love in stark relief. For a moment, they were gods, writhing in the throes of passion amidst the fury of the storm. And then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, leaving them gasping and trembling in the aftermath.

The rain had turned their love into something wild, something untamed. It was a love that could not be contained, a love that could not be controlled. It was a love that could only be felt in the throes of a tempest, a love that could only be expressed in the language of the storm.

Their eyes searched each other's, looking for answers, for a way out of the madness that had overtaken them. But all they found was the reflection of their own desires, their own needs, their own darkness. They were two lost souls, forever tangled in the web of their love-hate.

And as the storm outside began to abate, they knew that the storm within them had only just begun. They were two people, forever bound by the blurred lines that separated love from hate, forever destined to dance in the eye of the hurricane.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23

@xxkatxgracexx

#imagines #george clarke fics #george clarkey #George clarke #british youtubers #smut #george clarkey x reader

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flameofthescorpion · 12 days ago

Text

And so Icarus fell into the ocean

WARNING: Plays after the events of Transformers One, spoilers Ahead! Please watch the movie first before reading this all!

Canon-divergance!

also warning, both characters are assholes --------0--------

Sentinel laid on the cold floor of Iacon’s metal surface, his final resting place as his fading spark watched with his weakening senses as D-16, or rather Megatron, was banished from the once Grand City temporarily turned battleground. As his thoughts started to blur, as his hatred for the new Prime started to fade and go numb. The new glows of blue hues started to blur and dance in his remaining vision; he felt a presence, as if Death himself had decided to claim his very spark instead of letting it simply fade.

He could not hear the sound of pedes heading into his direction. He could feel it. Feel as the ground next to him aggressively shifted as the figure came closer, as if it was trying to avoid the mech without much success, the air filled with electrical tension to the point Sentinels frame lightly prickled.

“It's a shame really.”

Sentinel heard a gruff, dull and nearly drowned out voice next to his dying body, his auditory receptors barely able to differentiate clear words from white noise. Yet he could make out the disappointment in the bot's tone, not melancholy for his fate, no, closer to simple disappointment and even boredom. For the mech, it seems almost like some sort of entertainment value had been lost. ”I really thought you would have lasted longer. The great Sentinel Prime himself. You may have been a sleazy traitor but being beaten by a bunch of miners. a group of bots BENEATH your greatness? Tsk tsk tsk.”

Sentinel slowly saw as the bot walked into his vision. Due to laying on the floor, currently bleeding dry, he could only look at the bot's pedes as they seemed to circle him, analyze him. He could not tell much about the bot, his voice was alien and his frame seemed to have a golden color, similar to Sentinel’s wings in tone. “But I could help you turn the tables, I could give you everything back you once loved. everything you have lost and so much more, and unlike the quintessons I do not want to be compensated in precious Energon, oh no no, i just want you to complete a few…errands for me, errands where I am sure we can come to a mutual understanding. For example, we both want Optimus Prime dead, no?”

The false Prime didn't know what was worse, the constant pacing, or the fact that the bot was speaking in such an indifferent tone, as if he wasn't talking to a bot about to die. Save him? How was that supposed to work? Something did not add up, yet the promise of getting everything back was so luring. “A great Prime such as yourself does not deserve such a fate. What does it matter? You did some shady deals, you had kept us safe after all, even if it came at a price, that is what no one else understands. You are our true savior yet these fools were so blinded by Primus and his choice of messiah that they do not realize. You and me. How about we make them realize?”

Sentinel debated mentally with what strength he had left, already seeming to the point of numbing sensations and desperate thinking that he didn't even know how the figure hissed out Primus’ designation like it was a toxic poison. He would have everything back? everything? He did not even have to try to speak out that a deal was a deal before the bot spoke up again. “Save your words, I know the answer.”

Was all Sentinel could make out before passing out from having lost too much of his own life force, thinking this was all going to slow, nothing was going to matter anymore and that he simply wouldn't activate again.

However fate had other plans as he came back online in what seemed to be an abandoned medical office, the air stagnant and the silence deafening. He slowly sat back up from the medical berth he was resting on.

Observing his own self he could see how his colors seemed to have significantly darkened, his once deep and rich blue resembling more the tones of gray or black with blue tints. His wings seemed to be intact for the most part only to have become jagged and blackened, a far cry from the gold they once were. Even his optics have become “stained” as his reflection showed them how they have become the colors of a golden flame. Yet the most concerning detail was his torso, large scarring seen on the ripping seams, making him believe he was simply just welded back together instead of having had any qualified medic look at him. Going over those scars however he could tell everything worked like it was supposed to.

“Active?”

Sentinel recognized that voice, instantly tensing. Turning around to finally analyze the bot who had helped him for no reason it seemed. He was definitely right with his prior thoughts of the bot being mostly golden coloured, yet some details seemed so…wrong. Optics such a deep purple that it seemed almost unreal to look at them, and a wolfish grin revealing plenty of sharp teeth, especially the canines which were more fangs than anything. Sentinel could make out Alt mode details on the bot, they were cogged, but yet he had never seen this individual before. Someone completely new. They had wings, that must mean the bot was some sort of aerial cybertronian. In a way it was almost like looking into some kind of twisted mirror image of himself, it was uncanny to say the least.

“You owe me an explanation.”

Sentinel huffed out in slight irritation, he was in no mood to put up an act after nearly dieing

“Who are you, why are you helping me?” He added, as he kept a steady position, he couldn't let the bot know that he was somewhat intimidated by their appearance after all, he? of all bots? intimidated? No. At least he shall not show that he is.

“A mere fan of your work, an admirer. a fan you could say.” The figure spoke again as they walked out of the shadows, their facial plates were white similar to Sentinels which only further intensified their purple optics that had locked onto the false Prime. “My name is not noteworthy. I doubt it is of any importance for someone like you.”

The bot replied, their words composed and tone showing indifference.

“I would like to know the name of the bot who is going to be my business partner.” Sentinel doubled down. Finding it suspicious how his new partner was not willing to even give out their designation. “Tsk. See it this way. If you get caught, you can't say it was me who helped you because you can't refer to me, I won't suffer just because you made a mistake. it is a mere safety net for me.”

The same way Sentinel doubled down, so did the other individual in the room. While Sentinel held his ground, the other bot was starting to get a rather annoyed attitude, clearly not enjoying being talked to like that. Sentinel was still before finally dropping the matter, cutting the clear tension in the room. The golden bot seemed to mirror his action, demeanor switching back to indifference as they took a big vent in “Do we not have more urgent matters to address?” Sentinel hated how the other seemed to try taking the lead in this all. HE was the Prime, HE was entitled to be in the higher position of the two, yet he was smarter than go against someone who clearly had just welded him back together. The air still thick he relented and accepted the fact that the other would have the lead for now, but his time would come.

“Listen to me, Sentinel. I don't see why you should do any errands for me NOW. we have time with everyone figuring out how to lead things without you.” Sentinel perked up as the other bot essentially started to circle him again.

“You told me I would get everything back.”

Sentinel stated matter of fact, he wanted to see what hook this…creature had in its deals.

“Patience, patience. With time. It's not instantaneous. Why not start off small with that task? Who was at fault for this all?”

The figure questioned as they grabbed one of his servos, urging him to leave the empty medical bay with them.

“Optimus Prime and Megatron.”

Sentinel scoffed out, as if the answer was obvious. “Was that REALLY where things got out of servo? Was it?”

The individual questioned, leading them out to the abandoned halls, the debris in the dusty walls showing how long this station had really been abandoned as he began to think. “If Darkwing just would have done his task correctly then.-” “None of this would have happened.”

The figure completed the sentence for him as they let go of his servo. Leaving him on his own for now. “Tell you what. Why don't you go your own path for a while, and I will just call you once it's time to hold up your side of the deal, yes?”They did not give Sentinel the entitlement to even answer as they walked off and disappeared behind a corner. Sentinel picked up the pace, in confusion before turning the corner and seeing no sight of them. What is this thing? Not a Cybertronian that was clear, and that worried him. However, this entity was right, he had an open bill, and he would destroy anyone in his way, they betrayed him, they all did.

Wandering the silent halls he began to think, to plan. He could not just run into danger afterall, Darkwing wasn't an issue however someone in the possession of the matrix of leadership very much is and that isn't if the Quintessons haven't already noticed some things off and started the war all over again. However he found solace in the fact that Optimus and Megatron have been separated and thus he wouldn't have to face them at once, Optimus’ little friends however were another thing, afterall Optimus did not achieve all of this by himself, they managed to turn everyone against him. He paced angrily, no no, Optimus shouldn't be on his mind, he should keep his mind on the next step instead, and that is Darkwing. If Darkwing would have just appropriately gotten rid of him like he insinuated, then none of this would have happened in the first place and Darkwing was much easier to beat than his other options as of current since his “guardian angel” will quite clearly not assist him in this. Repositioning his wings he made up his mind, first Darkwing, and then he will plan accordingly to take out his bigger enemies, something in his mind truly just tells him to go ahead and cause as much as chaos as was possible, mayhaps it was revenge, or maybe it was something else, but Sentinel could care less. He was alive. That was good enough for now.

Darkwing was easy enough to find, due to the new Prime’s rule changes deaths are minimized. All Sentinel had to do was find where Darkwing is holed up and then snuff out his miserable spark for being a failure in his book.

However the problem was that he couldn't get spotted, everyone would probably think he was some sort of horrific demon, well in their defense he did not exactly look the best either. But that was an issue for later, he had one advantage to this situation, they thought he was dead, so if that is the case all he had to do was take out Darkwing without being seen and they would never suspect him. That gave him an idea.

------------

Silently he crept through the dark night, trying to remain in the shadows of Iacon, his dark colouration giving him the advantage now that the city was only partially lit up. The false prime had been to 3 holding cells he had knowledge of already, and Darkwing was in none of them, he had around 5 to go and he knew his chances of finding Darkwing would increase each time. He had made up his mind by freeing Darkwing first and once the mech was away enough from society that was when he was going to strike. Just like how he used to do it, he could stage this as a simple accident while Darkwing was breaking out and before anyone would find out what really happened, Sentinel was long gone before they could patrol the city.

As the false Prime checked out the next holding cell he couldn't help but wonder who to next take out. He wouldn't let Megatron and especially Optimus get out of this alive, HE would get the last laugh, he supposed Megatron due to being banished would be a next appropriate target before taking on the new Prime himself, he would claim the Matrix, as he was supposed to claim it first before Primus dared robbing him of his rightful place. The thought of Primus alone gave him a feeling of frustration and even disgust. He WILL get the Matrix of Leadership. HE was the rightful owner!

Sentinel was snapped out of his thoughts when he finally spotted Darkwing from the shadows, now he couldn't let Darkwing see him, or else the fool would shout or scream or whatever to alert the guards either on purpose or on accident. So he waited…and waited and waited.

Waiting until Darkwing went to recharge before fiddling with the Lock, now having claws made that very difficult and it felt like an eternity before he managed to unlock the cell. Slowly approaching he attempted to wake Darkwing, slowly shaking him as to not immediately startle him online, afterall Sentinel needed a while to back up. Slowly noticing Darkwing coming online, the false Prime ran off, leaving the door wide open so Darkwing gets the point and once again waiting in the safety of the darkness he had gotten so used to.

At first Darkwing seemed unsure, looking around for any present guards who seemed suspiciously absent, which was Sentinels doing, they weren't dead to say just…out of service for a while. Yet Darkwing didn't seem to know that.

Darkwing eventually took the opportunity, foolishly sneaking off while the guards were still out like a light, not knowing he was running right into his death.

Sentinel took up the chase, just far away enough to not be on Darkwings radar until they were far away enough from the facility before catching up to Darkwing and giving him a swift end by piercing his spark with what seemed to be built in blades on his forearms…since when?- Does not matter. His “guardian angel” must have had something to do with this.

A shame really, Sentinel would have loved if Darkwing would have at least put up a fight but it'll do. As he positioned Darkwing to make it look like his death was a simple accident on Darkwings part he felt a prickle in his back struts, electricity gathering in the air, he expected to turn around and be faced by a firearm but instead he was faced by his “angel” once again.

How long had they been following him? Did they see everything? “Who are you?! And this time do not give me a vague answer!” Sentinel demanded as he approached the mech, who slightly backed off, not in any fear, more irritation and bitterness as their facial plates contorted in an expression of unamusement and frustration. Their body language slightly hostile and wings in a defensive position as their purple optics locked onto the false Prime with their teeth nearly beared in snear as they approached him again, seemingly fed up with the attitude they had been given until now. “Someone you really should not have deleted from the archive records, Sentinel.”

#transformers #transformers one #tf one #maccadam #okay so this is the first fanfic i actually posted #bear with me im not that good at it #I have no idea how im gonna call this AU so for now its just gonna be called “Herald of Chaos Sentinel”#sentinel prime #unicron

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alyrasturnz · 4 months ago

Note

fuck the happy ending shit!!!! i need a super angsty fic with no happy ending/fluff whatsoever

its time to go {{ chris sturniolo }}

summary — chris and y/n have been grappling with the tumultuous waves of their relationship, their desperate efforts marked by a white-knuckled grip that seems to tighten with each passing day. despite their relentless struggle to hold onto what they once had, y/n comes to the heart-wrenching realization that, no matter how much it tears at her soul, she must find the strength to let him go.

— angst (no happy ending)

warnings :: cheating 😡

the restaurant was enveloped in a soft, muted glow, casting a veil of mystery over its patrons. it was the kind of place that whispered promises of intimacy, with its flickering candlelight and secluded corners, yet it offered only the elusive dance of shadows and the hushed murmur of secrets.

each table seemed to harbor its own private world, where words were spoken in guarded tones and glances were exchanged with caution, creating an atmosphere thick with unspoken emotions and hidden desires.

you and chris sat across from each other, the dinner growing cold and the chatter even colder, each word a hollow echo of what once was. the air between you was thick with the weight of unspoken thoughts, a testament to a relationship that had once thrived but now struggled under the burden of time and unaddressed wounds.

the clinking of cutlery and the distant hum of the restaurant only served to underscore the growing chasm, a silent reminder of the intimacy that had slowly slipped through your fingers.

of late, it has become unmistakably evident that you and chris have arrived at the inevitable conclusion of your shared journey. each exchange of words seems to transform into a tempestuous whirlwind of conflict, where even the most trivial of disagreements escalate into vehement confrontations.

it is as though both of you are ensnared in an endless cycle of trying to assert your perspectives, yet these attempts are met with mutual disregard. the once gentle flow of communication has turned into a battleground, with every conversation leaving behind a residue of unresolved tension and deepening wounds.

the emotional landscape between you has become a field of strife, where the echoes of past arguments linger, and the prospect of reconciliation seems like a distant mirage.

you and chris sat in a heavy silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. he absently toyed with the food on his plate, his fork pushing remnants around in an aimless dance.

you let out a weary sigh, the sound of resignation filling the space between you. with a sense of finality, you dropped your fork onto your plate, the loud clink echoing through the room as you signaled for the tab.

chris lifts his gaze to meet yours, his head still bowed slightly, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. after a moment, he averts his gaze, turning his head to the side, as if seeking refuge from the intensity of the moment.

“y/n, she’s just a friend. i swear,” chris mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. you scoffed in response, rolling your eyes with a mix of exasperation and disbelief, leaning back into your chair as if trying to distance yourself from the weight of his words.

“friends don’t look at each other like that,” you shoot back, your voice laced with a sharp edge. your words compel chris to meet your gaze, the intensity of your accusation lingering between you like a palpable force.

“yes, they do,” he insisted, his voice unwavering, each word carrying a quiet defiance.

a heavy silence enveloped the room as the tab was discreetly placed before you. with a measured yet swift motion, you slipped some cash onto the table, the rustle of bills breaking the quiet. standing up abruptly, you grabbed your purse with a sense of urgency, storming out, leaving the tension-laden air behind.

chris lets out a weary sigh, the sound heavy with resignation, as he hastens to follow after you, each step echoing with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension.

he leaned forward, his eyes brimming with a desperate intensity that seemed to beseech your very soul for understanding, "she’s just a friend, nothing more. you have to believe me."

you looked away, your heart laden with doubt, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest like an unrelenting burden. "just a friend? friends don’t look at each other like that."

he sighed deeply, attempting to mask his growing frustration, his breath escaping in a slow, controlled exhale. "i’ve known her for years. we’ve weathered countless storms together, but it’s never been anything more than friendship. you’re the one i love."

you met his gaze, your voice trembling with the fragility of your emotions. "then why does it feel like i’m competing for your attention? why do i feel like i’m losing you to her?"

he reached for your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, as if trying to anchor you in his reality. "you’re not losing me. i promise you, she’s just a friend. i need you to trust me."

but you could see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the hesitation in his voice, the slight quiver that betrayed his calm demeanor. tears welled up in your eyes as you pulled your hand away, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. "trust? how can i trust when i see the way you look at her?"

his voice softened, but the sincerity was gone, replaced by a hollow echo of his earlier conviction. "because i look at you with love. with her, it’s just friendship. please, believe me."

your heart ached with an almost unbearable intensity, knowing deep down that his words were merely a delicate veil for the truth he couldn’t bring himself to admit. it was a fragile facade, one that was beginning to crack and crumble under the oppressive weight of your shared silence, each unspoken word adding to the tension that threatened to shatter the thin veneer of reassurance he tried to offer.

your heart ached with an intensity that seemed to reverberate through your very being, knowing deep down that his words were nothing more than a delicate veil, a fragile facade designed to obscure the truth he couldn’t bring himself to admit. this fragile construct was beginning to crumble, piece by piece, under the immense weight of your shared silence, each unspoken word adding to the pressure, threatening to shatter the thin veneer of reassurance he so desperately tried to maintain.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not."

his eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. "what are you saying? don’t do this. we can work through this."

you shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks. "no, we can’t. i’ve tried to believe you, to trust you, but it’s tearing me apart. every time i see you with her, it feels like a knife in my heart."

he reached for you again, desperation in his touch. "please, don’t leave me. i love you. she’s just a friend, nothing more."

you stepped back, putting distance between you, your voice breaking. "just a friend? i didn't want to do this but if she’s just a friend then what is this?” you said, shoving your phone in his face, a screenshot displayed on it

his face paled, and for a moment, he was speechless. "i... i can explain." he stood there, silent, the weight of your words sinking in. "i never meant to hurt you."

"explain?" you echoed, your voice rising. "how do you explain this? 'last night was amazing. can't wait to see you again.'"

he ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt battling in his eyes. "it was a mistake. it didn't mean anything."

"a mistake?" you felt a bitter laugh escape your lips. "you don't just accidentally cheat on someone. how long has this been going on?"

"it was just the one time," he insisted, but his voice lacked conviction. "i swear."

you shook your head, tears blurring your vision. "how could you do this to me? to us? i thought we were happy."

"we are," he implored desperately, closing the distance between you, each step laden with a silent plea for forgiveness. "please, just let me explain."

"explain what?" you snapped, stepping back. "that you threw away everything we had for a night with someone else? that you lied to me, betrayed me?"

"i know i messed up," he uttered, his voice fracturing under the weight of his own remorse. "i'm so sorry. i love you."

"love?" the word resonated with a cruel irony, each syllable twisting the knife of betrayal deeper. "if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. you wouldn't have hurt me like this."

he reached out, but you recoiled, the pain too fresh, too raw. "please, give me a chance to make it right."

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "i need time," you said finally. "i need to think."

he nodded, tears in his own eyes. "i understand. i'll give you all the time you need."

with that, you turned and walked away, each step feeling like a release from the invisible chains that had bound your heart for so long.

as you moved forward, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions began to lift, leaving him standing there, a solitary figure etched against the backdrop of your fading memories.

the light around him dimmed, symbolizing the end of an era, a poignant reminder of the love and pain that had once intertwined your lives so deeply.

you knew deep down that this was the last thing you wanted to do, yet the tears that streamed down your face betrayed your resolve, refusing to let you proceed.

your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of yearning and longing, each beat echoing the depth of emotions that words could never fully capture.

it was as if every fiber of your being was pulling you back, pleading for a different outcome, one where love and desire could find their rightful place.

your entire being seemed to rebel against your decision, every fiber of your body rejecting the path you had chosen. the tears that welled up in your eyes mirrored the turmoil within, each drop a testament to the inner battle you fought.

despite the overwhelming urge to turn back, to undo what had been set in motion, you clung to the conviction that this was for the better.

it was a necessary sacrifice, a step towards a future that held the promise of healing and growth, even if the present moment was steeped in pain and uncertainty.

the inner conflict raged on, a tempest of emotions threatening to consume you, but you held firm, believing that sometimes, the hardest choices pave the way for the most profound transformations.

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