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lionneee · 5 months ago

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You ask Aemond about Alys

English is not my first language, please be kind

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•Warnings: taking of sexual themes and toxic relationship, Alys.•

Modern!Aemond x Older!Modern!Alys

Aemond and his girlfriend had just come home after dinner with some of their friends, when she asked him something he never would have heard.

“Tell me about Alys.” She asked as they took off their jacket and coat, slipping out of their shoes.

His expression hardened at the name of his ex-girlfriend. He hated hearing her name, remembering her.

“No.” He said in a cold tone, taking her coat and hanging it as she put away their shoes.

“Why not?” She insisted as they went in the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and the water from the fridge.

“Because I don’t want to.” He grunted, pouring the water in the glasses. His tone is still the same and he keeps staring at the glasses ahead of him. He remains silent, simply refusing to say anything about his ex, as in his mind he replays in his head what happened the last time he saw her. He closed his eye and shook his head, ashamed of that memory.

“I want to know about her.” She said, walking to him, hugging him from behind and resting her head on his back.

He sighed and got silent for a second. His tone became serious as he started speaking. His eyes were focused on the wall ahead of him.

“Why do you have to stick your nose in something that doesn’t regard you? Uh?!”

He was pissed, he knew she would have kept asking until he would eventually tell her. She pulled away from him, taking her glass and leaning back on the table.

“Jeez, what has she done to make you react like this now?”

He turned towards her but he kept his eye fixed on the wall ahead. She could tell he was thinking of something unpleasant as he stayed silent for a moment before sighing and starting to speak again.

“You don’t need to know what she did, okay?”

He didn’t look at her as he waited for her response, but his voice is not as angry as a moment ago.

“But I want to.”

God, she was stubborn.

His tone is still serious, but he doesn’t reply right away, he looks down at the floor, and after a few seconds he speaks again:

“Why do you want to know that so bad?”

“I’m curious.” She raised her shoulders as if she was saying something obvious. “You told me she was older than you.” She added then

Hearing the word ‘older’ he seemed to be more uncomfortable. He sighed deeply and he spoke again.

“Yes she was older than me.” He admitted coldly.

“How much?” She sipped her water, interested.

“She was thirty-five.” He glanced at her to catch her reaction, but she looked calm, just curiosity in her expression. She took her time to ask her next question.

“How old were you?”

Silence. His tone is now more stern.

“Seventeen.” He kept looking at her, studying her expression, but it didn’t falter, he still saw no judgment in her face.

“So… you were underage.” She stated. He stayed silent again for a while before speaking.

“Yes, I was.” His eye drifted back to the floor, as he clenched and unclenched his hand around the glass. She pressed her lips together.

“How did you meet her?” She took another sip of her glass, looking away from him.

The question brings back some memories, but he remains serious. His tone was more bitter, as he turned his head to the side.

“At a party. Aegon dragged me into a club.”

She smiled to break the tension, and hummed in amusement.

“That sounds like Aegon.”

He stayed silent for a moment before slowly nodding his head a bit. She could tell he started speaking with more anger. He’s not yelling, not answering meanly, but she could see he was holding back.

“Yeah, sounds like him. And it was because of him I even saw her in the very first place.”

She hummed and looked away. She was the one to bring up the topic, yet she felt uncomfortable hearing about Alys, but since he was answering her, she decided to keep going.

“So how did you two… you know… got together?”

His tone is colder and the bitterness in his voice increases.

“She approached me.” He stares at the water in his glass. If he thought about it enough, he could still smell her perfume, or hear her voice, even if it was now… five years ago.

“Mh. What was she like?”

She hated that she wanted to know that, but she was curious, she wanted the image of that woman in her head, even if what he could say would have hurt her or made her burn with jealousy.

He stops for a moment, thinking about how he could describe her.

“Dark eyes and hair, a bit curvy. Always nails, hair and makeup done. She always used this… red lipstick of hers. Rarely saw her without it. She always wore dresses that would shape her perfectly and show her breast.”

She was perfect.

She looked away, feeling a pain in her chest, and jealous of how that woman apparently always appeared perfect. Aemond looked at her, he put down his glass on the counter and stepped closer to her, taking her hand and kissing its back.

“She was beautiful, charming, and charismatic, but she was manipulative, mean and...” He sighed and looked away, leaving the phrase unfinished. “She acted in a kind and loving way towards me, at least in the beginning.”

“What about after?” She looked up at him, as he cupped her cheek with his hand, and she covered it with her own hand.

“It became a nightmare.” She furrowed her eyebrows, confused and concerned.

“What do you mean?” She asked worriedly.

He stays silent for a few seconds but his anger is obvious in his voice.

“She changed, or, well, she showed herself for who she really is. She was no longer the woman I met at the club. Her charming and loving behavior disappeared and she started to treat me horribly. She cheated on me often. Despite that she managed to keep me in her claws for three years.” He said in a mixture of shame and anger.

“How did she treat you?” She asked then, getting more worried.

Silence. His tone was very bitter and he seemed to be almost on the verge of losing his temper. This was a sensitive topic for him.

“She was verbally... and physically abusive towards me. She hit me on several occasions and did several other horrendous things I’d rather not describe.” He couldn’t look at her. He felt stupid. He felt stupid even after all that time, and he was ashamed of telling her how stupid he had been.

“Then why did you stay with her?”

At first, he didn’t answer her question and his tone remained bitter and frustrated as he stayed silent for a moment. When he started speaking again, he was clearly not happy to answer the question she just asked. He still sounded bitter and angry as he started to explain.

“Because she made me feel she was the only person who really understood me, that she was the only one who truly loved me.... That I wasn't worth it and I was nothing... And that no one else would ever want me other than her, or other things like that..”

She was surprised.

What the fuck?

She was… horrible. Who could even think of saying such things?

“… Wha- What kind of other things did she say to you?”

He looked at her in despair, but he knew she wanted to know, so he just talked.

“She used to say that I was ugly, that I was a disappointment, that I was too insecure, and that I was weak... that I would never be enough... I would have never been able to find another woman... That I would be alone forever.”

She felt like crying. He had to go through all of this? She wanted to keep him close and protect him from everything, everyone. He didn’t deserve that. Sure, he was complicated and a bit of a douche sometimes, but no one deserves such treatment. No one.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. She was cruel.”

He stayed silent for a moment but his tone indicated that her words helped him calm down a bit. He was less angry and less tense.

“Yes... She really was cruel. But I guess that's who she was all along, and I didn't notice it back then… But I think what I’ll never forgive her is that she made me a freak.”

She looked at him pained and even more confused.

“What? What does it mean she made you a freak?”

He didn’t respond right away and his tone became much more frustrated, he looked… ashamed.

“She was… my first time, and she was into some… crazy, disgusting things… and she kind of passed them to me, or at least, now I’m into some of those things too.”

She paused. She tried to elaborate his words.

“Like what?”

“I told you they’re disgusting. Why do you want to know? You’ll only get scared or… or you’ll be disgusted with me.”

She frowned.

“What? No. I won’t. Aemond, I won’t. Tell me.”

He seemed to consider your words again and again, taking his time to speak. He was embarrassed but he nodded and slowly started speaking again. He still kept his eyes down as he spoke.

“She was into painful things. Some very unpleasant things.”

“…Okay. Like what?” She softly encouraged him to say more.

The uncomfortable atmosphere was almost palpable. This was not a subject he wanted to talk about, but still, she could feel the burden that was placed on him. He was silent but finally he started to speak again, he sounded much more bitter. She could tell that this was something that really bothered him and hurt deep down but he would not go into much detail.

“She liked it rough. Like really rough. More rough than what we’ve ever done. She liked… to be slapped, she liked it violent.” He paused, as if to contemplate if he should have gone further, say it all. He sighed and he decided to be honest. “She liked some roleplay, but she was always the dominant part. So… I started fantasizing, and… I… I got into… like haunting roleplay. Haunting the prey and… once I caught her…” Rape her. He couldn’t finish it. He was too ashamed to say it out loud, but it was clear she understood. Yet, all she did was nod, she didn’t judge him. Though it was new for her seeing Aemond ashamed of something regarding sex. He was usually straight forward, confident.

“Obviously that would be consensual, I…” He sighed and looked away.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“No, I really think you don’t. I like it violent, disgustingly violent. I want to be the one to give it, not receive it.” He growled, as if he wanted to scare her away, as if he wanted her to be disgusted by him.

“I do understand, Aemond. I do.” She repeated softly. He shook his head and passed his hand over his face, rubbing his eye.

“How can you not be disgusted?” He mumbled, his face getting red with a mixture of frustration, anger and shame.

“You… You like what you like, there is no point in judging you. I know I can trust you.” She said with a soft smile. Aemond looked at her.

She was perfect.

It was all he could think. He leant forward suddenly and kissed her deeply, as she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and kept him close.

She was perfect.

He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, drinking in all of her, her taste, smell, her soft touch.

She was perfect, and she was his.

He pulled away and she smiled at him, caressing his cheek.

“Can I ask more?” She asked, and Aemond smiled. Her curiosity amused him, he was even more amused as now she asked instead of just insisting. He knew she was dying to know more.

“Yes.” He leant back on the counter as she unwrapped her arms from his neck and caressed his arms.

“Did she do something you didn’t like?” She asked then. Aemond nodded.

“Yes, but I… I always let her do it anyway.” He said, and she nodded, waiting for him to continue talking.

“She would… hurt me. She liked painful things, humiliation, degradation and violence.”

She bit her lower lip as she looked at him in pity. She knew very well Aemond was not into those kinds of things, actually, he was right the opposite. He had enough trouble during his childhood with his eye and bullying that he could never handle going back to being ashamed or weakened because of it, again. She put her glass down and she went to hug him.

“Oh, baby… I’m sorry I’ve made you go this far. I was just really curious.” She says sadly. Aemond hugs her back but after a while he pulls her away.

“No, it’s fine. I want to tell you.” He rubbed the back of his head as he looked away. “You might be the best person to tell this stuff to.” He added. She smiled softly, nodding.

“She… she used to treat me like a child, actually. If I did something wrong she would… punish me, let’s say that. She would ride me as punishment, slapping me and degrading me as she did so.” He took her hand as he looked down at it, and he started playing with her nails. “She was mean, before, and during sex, but she… she was nicer after it, telling me now I could go back to being good for her… she played nice for a while, so I wouldn’t go away. Not that I would have anyway, I… It was like I was addicted to her. She knew it and she used it. She used me.” Aemond clenched his jaw tightly as she kept looking at him worriedly.

“Aemond… but you got out of it.” She stated, putting a hand over his to reassure him. His expression contorted into one of disgust, and shame.

“I… It wasn’t nice, what I did. How I left.” He said in disgust. She put a hand on his cheek and turned his face to her, smiling at him softly, looking him in the eye.

“I’m sure she deserved what you did.” She said confident, but Aemond immediately looked away.

“No. Don’t say that, you don’t know that. You can’t know that.” He said angrily.

“Aemond, after what you’ve told me, I doubt you did so much worse than what she did. You were…” She shook her head, not really knowing what to say, but Aemond continued for her.

“What? I was what? Younger? I should have known better.” He said with his voice full of bitterness. There was a long moment of silence, as she looked down as he kept playing with her nails and fingers, then he went back to looking at her.

“If you could go back, would you have done something different?” She askec then, still looking down. He sighed and he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“No. I wouldn’t. What I did to her… It was… fair, but that doesn’t change the fact that… It was horrible.” Again, she took her time to answer. Then, she looked back up to him.

“Just like she treated you.” Aemond pressed his lips together and turned his head to the side, frustrated. She kept defending what he did like it was right, and he hated it. He felt guilty, he felt he had to feel guilty.

“You just can’t say things like that. You weren’t fucking there, you know nothing.”He spat out. she didn’t get offended, she knew he wasn’t angry with her, he was angry with himself, with his past, with Alys.

“Is she alive? Yes. Is she fine? Yes.” She stated, and keeping his head turned, he glanced at her.

“You don’t know what I did to her.” She nodded, and took a deep breath.

“Do you want to tell me?” She asked softly, caressing his hand.

“No. Not yet.” He looked back down, as images of that memory flashed in front of him.

She hugged him, and he immediately hid his face in her neck, bending down due to the height difference. He just wanted to forget, and be happy, even if he wasn’t sure he deserved it. He wasn’t even sure if he deserved to be with someone like her. She passed her fingers in his hair as she massaged his scalp.

He loved her.

Is this what love is?

All he wanted to do was keep her close all the time, feel her all the time, look at her all the time. He never had enough of her, not even of her stubbornness. She had her attitude, but just as he had his. Yet, he thought, he never felt he could fit better with someone else. He knew she was the one.

He hugged her tighter as she responded by kissing his neck.

She was the one. He would never let her go. There was no better place for her better than his side, just like for him, it was her side. She pulled away from the hug and took his hand, talking softly.

“Let’s go lay down, yeah?”

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xgryffinwhore · 14 days ago

Note

if you’re still doing johnny, could you do a smut where your basically ali. you broke up with him, and he is kind of like a obsessed ex? not sure where im going with this, but i hope you can do it way better than me lol

The spill

Summary: Johnny wants his ex back, seeing her at the movie theatre giving Tommy an idea.

Warnings: Smut, swearing

Word count: 6.8k

Johnny Lawrence had it all—captain of the Cobra Kai, All Valley cham, best of all, her by his side. She was different from the other girls, smart and always challenging him. With her, he felt like he could be himself—no Kreese, no pressure, just Johnny and her against the world. But things changed. She’d had enough of his temper, of the way he was always trying to be in control. It came to a head at the beach party, right there in front of everyone. She broke up with him, saying he was too possessive, too jealous, that she couldn’t take it anymore.

Since that night, Johnny hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that she was meant to be his. He’d go through his day, but his mind would drift to her—wondering what she was doing, if she ever missed him, if she’d realize that they belonged together. And then, every time he saw her with Daniel, the jealousy burned so hot it felt like it would consume him. Sometimes he’d end up driving by her house or showing up at the spots they used to hang out, just to feel like he was close to her. His friends started noticing, and even Kreese gave him a hard time, but Johnny didn’t care. She was worth it.

Tonight, Johnny’s parked outside the movie theater he knew she liked to go to, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, maybe remind her of what they used to have. He tells himself he just wants to talk, but the truth is he’s desperate for any reason to stay connected to her, no matter how messed up it looks.

Johnny’s leaning against his bike with the Cobra Kai's, eyes fixed on the theater doors, his mind replaying memories of her in his car, of their late-night talks, and the way she used to look at him before everything got so screwed up. He’s still holding onto hope, convinced she’ll come around if she just remembers the good times. His fist clenched as he thinks about LaRusso, about the way she’s letting that punk take his place.

"You don’t even know her, LaRusso," Johnny mutters under his breath, eyes narrowed. "You’re just… borrowing her."

"What was that, Johnny?" Bobby asks.

"Nothing," Johnny says, rolling his eyes. "Just… forget it."

Bobby shakes his head, Johnny was always pulling antics to try to get her attention, as if she forgot he existed. There were giggles coming from around the corner, sure enough her and her posse rounded the movie theater heading straight for the door.

As soon as Johnny saw her, his heart started beating faster. She was so close he could almost touch her. Her laughter floated through the night, as natural as breathing. Johnny felt a pang in his stomach, like he always did around her.

She noticed him and his crew, trying not to look over for more than half a second. He looked good, he always did, but he was too damn much. Beating up Daniel once a week really gave her a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Look who it is," her friend Susan whispered as she gestured toward Johnny. She huffs "I know."

Johnny caught the glimpse she made in his direction, holding out hope that she still cared. But when she didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, Johnny knew he needed to make a move. "Hey, wait up!" he called out. She pretended not to hear, but Johnny knew better than that.

"We've been over this. I don't want to talk" annoyance laced her tone.

Johnny knew he was losing ground, but he couldn’t let her slip through his fingers again. "Just listen for a second, okay?"

She whipped around at an almost violent rate, "What!" she snapped. Johnny's friends chuckled at her fiery attitude.

Johnny raised his hands defensively. "Just five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for," he said, hoping his sincerity would get through to her.

Her eyes softened for a second, when she looked at him all she could see was the secretly sweet guy he used to be. But the menace he was on the surface loomed over her, she snapped out of her thoughts. "Yeah, I'll pass" she turns back around, her and her friends whispering and looking back at him as they head into the theater.

Johnny’s heart dropped as she walked away. He knew he’d been pushing his luck, but the thought of losing her for good was too much to bear. He stared at the door where she’d disappeared, feeling more determined than ever to win her back.

"What are you doing man?" Dutch shouted, his hands on his hips. "I thought they broke up," Jimmy sighed, rolling his eyes.

Johnny turned to face his friends, irritation clear on his face. "Stay out of it, Dutch," he snapped. "It's none of your damn business."

"It is my business when you drag us places acting like you want to hang out, when you really just want to run into her" Dutch countered.

Johnny bristled at Dutch’s words. "I can do whatever the hell I want, Dutch," he said through gritted teeth. "And if I wanna see her, I'm gonna see her. You got a problem with that?"

"Doesn't really look like she wants to see you," Dutch said while getting on his bike. "I'm out of here, it's been weeks man, This isn't like you, to be so weak over some girl." With that, Dutch started his bike and drove off. On one hand, Dutch was right, it really wasnt like Johnny at all-- but they dated for two fucking years, so it was different.

Johnny watched as Dutch zoomed away, his words stinging. He knew his friends were fed up with his obsession, but he couldn’t shake the need to be near her. He glanced at the theater door, then back to his bike, unsure of what to do next.

Bobby came up and patted Johnny on the shoulder, "Listen man, Dutch is just being an ass." Bobby pointed toward the theater "We'll go in with you, maybe there are seats behind her and her friends still open." Tommy and Jimmy nodded, parking their bikes and heading toward the theater.

Johnny let out a sigh, grateful for his friends' support despite their frustration. "Alright," he said, a small spark of hope reigniting. "Let's go see if we can ‘accidentally’ sit near her."

They all smirk, they knew Johnny's tricks all too well. As they bought tickets and came in, her and her friends were in the middle of the theater, the back was pretty open. She noticed him walk in and sighed, she couldn't believe he came in.

Johnny and his friends took their seats a few rows behind her and her friends. As the movie started, he couldn’t help but glance in her direction from time to time. Each glimpse of her sent a rush of longing through him.

Jimmy nudged Johnny, "So what's your big plan?" he whispered.

Johnny kept his eyes locked on the screen, trying to sound casual. "I dunno," he said, "Just see if I can get her attention, maybe." He took a breath, feeling more confident in his plan than he had a moment before. "And if she doesn’t... Well, I’ll just have to be more creative." The wheels were already spinning in his mind.

She shot him a look, trying to act like she was just stretching. She was curious as to why he and his friends followed them in; she knew he wanted to talk, but this was a romance movie- and Johnny couldn't stand those. "Man she totally just looked!" Tommy commemorated.

Johnny’s heart raced as he heard the others’ excited whispers. "Yeah, she looked at us," he said, trying to play it cool. "But that doesn’t mean anything. We need to be smart about this... " He glanced over again, studying her with a mix of longing and determination. "We've still got time. Let's see if we can draw her out of the theater."

"I think I have an idea" Tommy whispers, standing up with his drink and a malice smirk. "I'll get her away from her friends."

Tommy grinned, sauntering down the aisle. When he got just a few feet away from her, he exaggerated a stumble, spilling his drink all over the back of her hair. "Woah," he said in a mock slurred tone, making a big show of his accidental clumsiness. "Damn, I am so sorry."

She shot up, only seeing red "Tommy, seriously?" she shouted, the soda dripping from the ends of her hair. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she spat as Tommy feigned apologies. She stormed out to the bathrooms, her friends shooting glares at the rest of the group.

Johnny watched with a mix of worry and anticipation as she ran to the bathroom. "Great move, Tommy," he said sarcastically, "Real smooth." He turned to the guys, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

"Now's your chance, idiot" Jimmy exclaimed "She's alone in the bathroom.." he trailed off, trying to make Johnny connect the pieces.

Johnny's mind raced as he realized the opportunity in front of him. "Right," he said, rising quickly from his seat. "I'll go talk to her, see if I can smooth things over." He shot the guys with a determined glance before making his way toward the bathroom.

She washed her hair in the sink, the sticky soda washing away down the drain. She wasn't sure if Tommy was a clumsy fool, or if he tried to embarrass her in front of everyone. She tried off her hair with the paper towels available before exiting.

Johnny hovered outside the bathroom, waiting for her. When she finally came out, he stepped forward, a sheepish smile on his face. "Hey" he said tentatively. "I just wanted to check on you, see if you're alright?"

"I'm fine." She brushed him off, just as she did not earlier, and walked past him back toward the theater.

He stepped in her path, preventing her from moving further. "Hey, hold up for a second," he said, his tone demanding. "I know you're pissed, and you have every right to be, but you can't just ignore me like this."

She looked at him like he had three heads "Johnny, I broke up with you, what don't you get?"

Johnny's eyes darkened. "Yeah, and you just expect me to move on? It doesn't work like that. We were together for two years. You can't just dump me and move on like I never mattered."

"The whole point of breaking up is not being together and moving on" She huffed. Johnny never took no for an answer.

Johnny clenched his jaw, frustration radiating off of him. "So that's it?" he shot back, "You just woke up one day and decided I was disposable? Like our whole relationship meant nothing?"

"We both know that's not what happened" she shoved him out of frustration. "I waited for you to calm down for two years, but you couldn't help yourself" she shakes her head "you let your temper ruin everything good in your life!"

Johnny's face hardened, hurt and anger swirling within him. "My temper? That's rich coming from you. You never understood me, you wanted to change me into some perfect boyfriend who never got mad." He stepped closer, his voice low and intense. "That's not who I am. I'm not gonna be the guy who just smiles and pretends everything is fine all the time."

"You let every little thing set you off, while I try to tear you off of someone before you damn near kill them” she twitches.

Johnny's jaw clenched as her words hit home. "And whose fault is that?" he retorted, his voice rising. "You knew I was like this when we got together. You just wanted to be the hero who could tame the bad boy, make him into your perfect boyfriend. Well, newsflash- I'm not some charity case for you to fix."

"You're such a jerk" she curses "I saw the best in you, who you were outside of karate, outside of who you pretend to be in front of your friends. I'm not going to stick around and watch you make yourself look like an ass day after day." She saw this conversation was just turning into one of their classic fights. "Just leave me alone, Johnny."

Johnny's eyes flickered with a mix of regret and anger. He knew deep down that she'd seen the best in him, a part he tried to hide beneath his tough exterior. She was right, he'd lost himself in the cycle of aggression and bravado. He took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm within him. "Fine," he said, his voice low and strained. "But don't expect me to just walk away and forget about everything we had. You meant the world to me."

She felt tears well up in her eyes, she hated how hard it was to stay away from him. She opened her mouth as if to respond, but instead pushed back him to the door outside. She had to go home, take a long shower, and mull over what she was feeling.

Jimmy, Bobby, and Tommy came out a few seconds later "Man, you've been out here for a while" Jimmy said "What happened?"

Johnny turned to his friends, his eyes conveying a mix of disappointment and frustration. He shrugged, playing it cool. "She's just being stubborn," he said dismissively, trying to hide the pain that still tugged at his heart. "Nothing new. Just forget it, let's go."

"She'll come around man" Bobby said opening the door "that girl is crazy about you, she wouldn't let you get her all worked up if she wasn't."

Johnny managed a small smile at his friends' words. Maybe they were right, maybe she did still care. But he knew he couldn't just sit around and hope things would magically fix themselves. He had to take action, show her that he could change, that their relationship was worth fighting for. "Thanks, guys," he said, determination glinting in his eyes. "I'll figure it out."

She laid in her bed that night, restlessly thinking about seeing Johnny. Every time she saw him, his image lingered in her mind, he was real easy on the eyes, which is why she forgave him for two years. As she tossed and turned, the memories of her time with Johnny flooded her mind. She couldn't deny the chemistry, the spark that drew her to him despite his flaws. She remembered the moments they shared, the laughter, the stolen glances. His easy charm and confidence always seemed to win her over, making it hard for her to stay mad.

Johnny couldn't sleep either. He replayed their conversation in his mind, the hurt in her voice still lingering in his ears. Deep down, he knew he had messed up, let his anger get the best of him too many times. But the thought of losing her for good was unbearable. He couldn't shake the memories of their time together, the way she made him feel like he could be better. And he desperately wanted a second chance to prove it.

Johnny glanced at the clock, its numbers casting a faint glow in the darkness. It was late, but he couldn't wait any longer. He knew what he had to do. He rolled out of his bed, got dressed, and quietly slipped outside into the night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal light over the quiet neighborhood.

Johnny walked down the empty streets, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. He made his way to her house, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. He climbed the familiar tree that led to her bedroom window, just like he had done so many times before.

She laid there sleeping, the rise and fall of her chest as her lips part deep in dreams. Her window was slightly open, letting the cool night air in. Her room looked the same as it always did, band posters everywhere, and the picture of them from last year facing her bed on her night stand.

Johnny's eyes lingered on the photo on her nightstand, a snapshot of happier times. He carefully opened the window and climbed inside, trying not to make a sound. Once inside, he just stood there for a moment, taking in the familiar sight of her room. He knew he shouldn't be there, but he couldn't bring himself to turn back. He looked at her, sleeping peacefully, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing.

He moved closer to her, almost tempted to reach out and touch her. But instead, he just stood there, watching her sleep. He knew she would be mad if she woke up and found him there, but he couldn't leave things the way they were anymore. He took a deep breath and spoke softly, "Babe..."

She stirred, still in sleep, but somehow she registered his voice. "..Johnny.." she said.

Johnny's heart skipped a beat as she spoke his name in her sleep. It was as if she was reaching out to him, even in her unconscious state. He couldn't resist the pull any longer. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Hey," he whispered again, his voice filled with tenderness. "Wake up."

Her nose twitched, as her eyes fluttered awake slowly. She rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust to the dark. "J-Johnny?" she said shocked, almost yelling

Johnny quickly covered her mouth. "Shh," he whispered. "I know I shouldn't be here, but I had to talk to you." He looked into her eyes, hoping she could see how sincere he was. "Please, just hear me out."

She breathed heavily, her eyes darting down at his hand. She slowly began nodding.

Johnny held his hand over her mouth for a moment longer before letting go, his voice low and urgent. "Please. I need to talk to you." He took a step back, giving her space. "I know you're mad, and you have every right to be, but I couldn't go another night without telling you how I feel." He gazed into her eyes, pleading for her to hear him out. "I still love you. I know I messed up, and I'm sorry. But I'm asking you to give me another chance."

"You broke into my house to do this?" she questioned, not fully awake yet.

Johnny took a deep breath, knowing he was pushing his luck. "I know it was a crazy move, but I didn't know what else to do. You won't see me, you won't take my calls. I just... I had to talk to you, to make you understand." He reached out, gently taking her hands in his. "I'm not giving up on us. I won't let you go that easily."

She scoffed, putting her head in her hands. "Yeah well you should have thought about that while we were together."

Johnny sighed, his determination unyielding. "I know I made mistakes. I was hot-headed and let my temper get the better of me. But I'm more than just my mistakes. I know I can be better. I miss you like crazy, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove it to you." He looked at her, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Just give me a second chance. That's all I'm asking."

She is at a loss for words, she wants to take him back, she really does. But she knew he would always be a short tempered, violent mess, was that something she could live with? She knew he could make small changes, but there will always be a fire that burns bright in Johnny for fighting. "I.." she starts, taking a moment to collect her thoughts, "I still love you Johnny, more than I should."

Johnny felt a surge of hope as she spoke those words. His heart raced, his eyes never leaving hers. He took her hands, squeezing them gently. "I love you too. More than anything. I know I'm not perfect, but I promise I'll keep working on myself. I don't want to lose you again." He took a step closer, his voice softer. "Just... Please, give me another shot. Let me prove to you that I can be the guy you deserve."

"Okay, Johnny" she nods, his big, veiny hands making her own look so feeble and small.

Johnny's face lit up, his eyes filled with gratitude. He pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You won't regret this. I'm gonna make it up to you, I swear." He held her close, feeling her heartbeat against his chest, a reminder of the love they shared. "From now on, I'll be the best damn boyfriend you ever had."

"Yeah, yeah" she giggles, a weight being lifted off her shoulders by his touch. She laid down, dragging him down with her and nuzzled into his chest.

Johnny wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I've been such an idiot. But I'm gonna make it right, I promise." He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

She looked up at Johnny, his cocky smirk spreading across his face at her gaze. "What's the first thing you're gonna do, to make it right?" she teases.

Johnny chuckled, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Oh, I have a few ideas." He tilted her chin up, his lips brushing against hers lightly. "But first," he whispered, his voice low and seductive, "I think I owe you a proper kiss." Before she could respond, he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply, pouring all his affection and desire into the moment. It was a promise, a declaration of his love and determination to make things right between them.

As they lock lips, a warmth builds deep within her, one only he can produce. She never truly realized how affected she was by him, he molded into every crevice of hers perfectly, like he was meant to be hers.

Johnny's heart swelled as their kiss deepened. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, never wanting to let go. He knew he had to cherish her, protect her from his anger and hot-headedness, and he was determined to do so. In that moment, all he wanted was to hold her, to make her feel loved and safe. He broke the kiss, looking into her eyes with a mix of tenderness and devotion. "I love you," he whispered, "And I'm gonna spend every day showing you just how much."

"I love you, Johnny" she said, coming to smother him with another kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, gasping into his mouth while they reclaimed each other with a tongue numbing kiss.

Johnny responded eagerly, his hands roaming her body as their kiss deepened. He couldn't get enough of her, as if he was trying to make up for lost time. His hands traced her curves, pulling her closer, as he poured all his emotions into the kiss. He had missed this, the undeniable connection they shared, and he never wanted it to end. As they finally pulled apart, panting, Johnny rested his forehead against hers, a mix of longing and contentment in his eyes. "I don't ever want to let you go again," he whispered.

"So don't be stupid again" she banters back, her lips wet from the contact. She stroked his back, his pheromones and sweat mixing to make such a stirring aroma.

Johnny couldn't resist her playful banter, his lips curving into a crooked grin. "I'll do my best, but you know me," he teased, his voice filled with mischief. He pulled her even closer, savoring the way their bodies fit together perfectly. "You have no idea the effect you have on me," he said, his voice laced with desire, as his lips found the soft skin of her neck, leaving a trail of tender kisses. "I can't get enough of you."

"You never can" she purred, the blood rushing to her head from the high his lips gave her. She moved her hands to his hair, gripping onto his bleach blonde locks as he kissed her tenderly.

Johnny's heart raced as her fingers tangled in his hair, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. He trailed kisses down her neck, each one more intense than the last. "You're right," he whispered against her skin, his voice low and husky. "I can't resist you." He nibbled at her earlobe, his breath hot against her ear. "You're my weakness."

She pulled him in tighter, she swore if he moved even a little bit away from her he'd disappear. "Hey I thought Kreese said you shouldn't have any weaknesses" she teased "It's not good for your karate."

Johnny laughed softly against her skin, his arms wrapping around her securely. "Screw Kreese," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "You're the best weakness a guy could have. I'd choose you over any trophy or title." He captured her lips in a hungry kiss, his hands roaming her body, as if to prove the depth of his devotion. "You've got me hooked, babe. There's no turning back now."

She giggled into his kiss, loved the rare moments when he was so needy and clingy to her, like his love was too much to bear. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, exploring him like she always used to.

Johnny reciprocated eagerly, his tongue meeting hers in a passionate dance. He poured all his desire and longing into the kiss, wanting to show her how much he missed her. His hands roamed her body, caressing every curve and dip, as if to memorize every detail. In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her, and the way their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. "I want you," he murmured between kisses, his voice heavy with need. "I need you."

She let out a whimper at his pleas, he was never one to beg. He usually made her do that, it felt arousing to feel him under her spell. "Oh yeah?" she managed to gasp out a tease.

Johnny growled softly at her teasing, his desire only growing stronger. "Oh, you know it," he said, his hands gripping her hips possessively. "But I know you like it when I'm in charge." He nibbled at her lower lip, his smoldering gaze never leaving hers. "Are you gonna make me beg for it, babe? Because I will."

"I think I like the sound of that" she bit her lip, oh how the roles have reversed.

Johnny smirked at her reaction, his eyes glinting with amusement and desire. "Begging it is then," he said, his voice low and husky. He pulled her closer, their bodies pressed against each other. "Please," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "I can't take another night without you. I need you, all of you. Show me how much you miss me too." He trailed kisses down her neck, his hands exploring the contours of her body as he whispered sweet nothings into her skin. "Please, babe. I'm desperate for you."

She smirks at his words, "Mm" she hums, goosebumps rising all over her.

Johnny continued to trail kisses down her neck, his lips grazing her collarbone. He moved even lower, nuzzling against her chest. "Please," he murmured, his voice filled with longing. "I'll do anything. Just say the word and I'm yours." He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and desire. "I can't live without you, baby. You're my oxygen." He gently took one of her hands, placing it on his chest, right above his heart. "Feel how fast it beats for you."

She felt the organ inside him beat like it was the last thing on earth. "I think I'd feel better if your shirt was off.." she teases.

Johnny's eyes darkened at her suggestion, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Is that so, babe?" he replied, his voice low and seductive. He leaned back, stripping off his shirt in one swift motion, revealing his toned, sculpted chest. He flexed his muscles playfully. "Better now?" he asked, a cocky smirk on his lips.

She was hypnotized by his biceps, I mean, how couldn't she be. He was a Greek god in the making and he was totally and utterly desperate for her, she felt so lucky. "A lot, thanks" she responded, her throat beginning to feel dry.

Johnny chuckled, his ego boosted by her obvious admiration. "Like what you see, huh?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He took her hand, guiding it to his chiseled chest. "You can touch, you know," he said, his voice thick with desire. "I'm all yours." His free hand snaked around her waist, pulling her even closer, his lips grazing her ear. "And I plan to show you just how much I need you tonight."

She reaches out and trails down his shoulders, his arms, down his chest and abdomen. She found it hard not to moan at just him under her hands, he was so fit. His warm tan skin felt smooth under her fingers, "I bet you are.." she meant to tease, but it came out as more of a plea.

Johnny's breath hitched at her touch, his body burning with desire. He couldn't resist the way her hands explored him, the way they sent electric jolts of pleasure through him. "Oh, I am," he said, his voice husky with passion. "And I plan to make you feel just how much." He leaned in, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss, his hands roaming her back, tracing every contour of her body. "You drive me insane, babe," he whispered against her lips. "I want to devour you."

She couldn't hold back the guttural groan at his suggestive words. "I missed how dirty you talk to me" she sighs, closing the gap between their lips.

Johnny smirked against her lips, his hands gripping her hips possessively. "You have no idea how much I've missed this," he murmured, his voice filled with longing. "And I'm not gonna hold back anymore." He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a heated dance. He pushed her down onto the bed, his body covering hers as he kissed a trail down her neck. "I'm gonna remind you just how wild I can get," he said, his voice a low growl.

Images flash in her mind of their past times, the steamy back seats, the sneaking off at the beach, him covering her mouth when her parents were in the other room. Johnny really did get wild. She squirmed as his lips moved down her.

Johnny could feel her squirm beneath him, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. He reveled in the way she responded to his touch, the way her body arched against his. He made his way lower, trailing kisses down her stomach, his hands tugging at the hem of her shirt. "You like that, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with desire. "Well, you haven't seen anything yet."

"Take it off" she begs him, her brain firing off rapidly at the sight of him doing what he does best-- driving her crazy.

Johnny eagerly complied, lifting her shirt over her hips and discarding it on the floor. He leaned back, taking in the sight of her. "Damn, you're so beautiful," he exhaled, his voice laced with desire. He ran a finger over the curve of her breast, savoring the way she arched into his touch. "How did I ever let you slip away?" he murmured, his lips finding her collarbone.

She moans as her body responds to him, it was nothing new-- how little he had to do to make her lose control of herself. "You're driving me insane."

Johnny chuckled against her skin, his lips curving into a wicked grin. "Good," he said, his voice thick with desire. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear." He continued his trail of kisses down her body, teasing her with the lightest of touches. He reached the waistband of her pants, tugging at them gently. "You want more, babe?" he asked, looking up at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She nodded feverishly, "Yes Johnny. Please. I need more." She writhes under the teasing touch of his hands.

Johnny relished in her response, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her pants, slowly slipping them down over her hips. "You're so impatient," he teased, his voice low and husky. "But I'm gonna take my time with you, babe. I want to savor every moment." He traced his finger down the length of her inner thigh, his eyes never leaving hers as he watched her squirm with anticipation.

He was pressing every single one of her buttons, he was too damn good at it. One thing about Johnny, he might mess up, but somehow she was always begging him for more after. Her breath hitched with anticipation, the skin under his touch tingled. "God, don't do this to me. Don't tease me like this" she whimpered.

Johnny chuckled, his fingers tracing circles on her inner thigh. "But I love teasing you, babe," he said, his voice filled with a teasing lilt. "It drives you crazy, and that's exactly what I want." He continued to trail his fingers upwards, just barely grazing over the fabric of her panties, his eyes locked on her face, savoring every reaction. "Beg for it," he said, his voice a low growl. "I want to hear you beg for me."

And just like that, the roles were back to normal. "Please Johnny" her throaty begs fill the quiet room "Do whatever you want to me- anything to me-- just make me feel good. I need you so badly."

Johnny's eyes darkened with desire as her words filled the room. He could feel her anticipation, her desperate need for him and it only fueled his own desire. He moved closer, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke, his voice low and seductive. "Anything, huh?" he whispered. "That's a dangerous thing to say to me, babe. But I'm more than willing to oblige."

He captured her lips in a hungry kiss, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her panties, teasing her with a skillful touch. He toyed with her core, his fingers tracing circles around her most sensitive spot. "How does that feel, babe?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Is that what you wanted?"

Her back snaps up as she arches in pleasure, her needs being quenched. "Oh god.." she whimpers, little pants slipping out of her mouth "Johnny it's amazing.. feels so good.."

Johnny's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched her writhe and gasp beneath him. He loved seeing her lose control, the way her body seemed to respond to his every touch. He intensified his movements, his fingers finding a steady rhythm, driving her closer and closer to the edge. "You like that, huh?" he whispered, his voice filled with desire. "You like how I make you feel?"

"Love it" she slurs, his digits making her lose all thoughts other than the circular motion of his fingers against her sensitive clit. "I fucking love it Johnny" she moans.

Johnny's heart raced at her words, the fire inside him burning stronger than ever. He knew he had her right where he wanted her, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With a final, skillful motion, he pushed her over the edge, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. "That's it, babe," he growled, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Let go for me."

She moved her hands to his pants, grabbing a hold of his bulge. "But.. I want.." she pants, giving him a knowing look.

Johnny groaned at her touch, his desire for her only growing stronger. He knew what she wanted, and he couldn't deny her any longer. He leaned in, his lips finding her neck, his hands working to release himself from the confines of his pants. "You want me to fuck your sweet brains out, don't you?" he whispered, his voice husky and filled with need.

She blushed at his bluntness, "Yes Johnny" she said softly as she slipped him out of his shorts and boxers. She began eagerly stroking him, showing him how badly she needed him inside her.

“Easy now” his self restraint snapping “You're gonna make me cum before I even got to wear you out.” He tore off her panties, spreading her legs sinfully as he slid between her legs. He bared his weight on both of his forearms, planking above her as he rested his tip at her entrance.

She lined him up, her eyes silently begging for him to take her. He slowly thrusted into her wet heat, shuttering at the familiar pleasure, she returned the shutter with the familiar burn. “Fucking christ” Johnny groaned “I dont know how I went weeks without this.”

She gripped tightly onto his biceps, digging her fingernails into him with each stroke. She wasn't used to his size, not after almost a month without it. He quickened his pace, both of them getting lost in the pleasure.

She let her head fall back, eyes pinned shut in pleasure, Johnny smirked at the sight he had drilled into her. “So pretty for me” he growled, his hand firmly grasping her neck “Look at me when I fuck you, baby” he demanded. Her eyes flew open, her lips parted as little moans and pans ran through her throat. He took his thumb and caressed her bottom lip.

He swiftly pulled out, flipping her on her back. He brought her hips up to his as he slammed into her once more God- he loved how easily he could use her, plus, it was a hell of a view, one he’d missed. “You like how deep I am?” he leaned down near here ear, fucking her relentlessly.

“Yes” She screams into her pillow, tearing of pleasure harboring at her lash line. She felt the coil inside her begin to undo itself.

He snapped his hips into her, his strokes getting slower and deeper “That's my girl.” He felt her tiger getting around him, he knew she was close to being finished. “Say my fucking name baby” he begs, getting lost in his own pleasure, being inside her was almost too much to handle.

She grips her bedsheets, her arch getting weaker as she approaches her climax. “Johnny! God, Johnny… Please Johnny” she cries out, tightening around him as her whole body is hit with weaves of ecstasy. This drives Johnny over the edge as he pulls out and paints her back with his cum. “Fucking-Shit..” he curses as hee strokes out the remaining fluids, admiring his work.

She lays there, quivering underneath him. He wipes the remaining evidence off her with his shirt, then collapses onto the bed next to her, the afterglow of their passionate encounter still lingering in the air. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, as he let out a content sigh. "That was incredible," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of awe. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, savoring the moment. "I've missed you so damn much, babe."

"I've missed you" she says trying to catch her breath. "I love you Johnny, I'm glad you broke into my room" she giggles.

Johnny chuckles, his heart swelling at her words. "I love you too," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "And don't worry, I'll break in again if I have to." He nuzzles her hair, inhaling her scent. "I couldn't stay away from you any longer. I had to see you, touch you, be with you.”

She kisses his shoulder, "Johnny, do you think you can stay the night?" she asks. He used to spend the night all of the time, he'd sneak over and leave when he wanted because she had a lock on her door.

Johnny smiles softly, his heart swelling at her request. "Of course, babe," he says, his arms tightening around her. "I'll stay as long as you want me to. I don't ever want to leave your side again." He kisses her forehead, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. "Just like old times, right?"

"Right" she smiled, resting her head and arm on his chest, listening to his heart thump in his chest. The sound makes a wave of peace wash over her, it's so soothing and cyclical. Her eyes slowly shut as she drifts back into a deep sleep.

#johnny lawrence #smut #johnny lawrence x reader #william zabka #johnny lawrence fan fic #johnny lawrence smut #the karate kid #cobra kai #johnny lawrence fic #the karate kid fan fic

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kckt88 · 3 months ago

Text

Fracture.

Summary:

After taking Harrenhal, Aemond is haunted by his past sins.

Warning(s): Angst, Swearing, Drama, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut, Oral Sex, (F Recieving), Loss of Virginity, P in V, Visions, Torment, Despair, Aemond POV, BAMF Alys Rivers, Ending Open to Interpretation/Ambiguous.

AEMOND x O.C

Word Count: 9870

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Prince Aemond Targaryen lay in a dilapidated bed within the blackened ruins of Harrenhal, the once-mighty castle now a testament to fire and war.

The room around him was in disrepair, with crumbling stone walls, broken windows that allowed the cold, damp air to seep in, and a ceiling that leaked, letting the rain pour in rhythmically.

Aemond's one good eye stared up at the ceiling, his mind replaying the events that recently transpired.

He and his men, including Ser Criston Cole, had ridden into Harrenhal with expectations of battle, ready to face his uncle Daemon.

But the castle had been deserted, save for a few trembling inhabitants too frightened to flee.

Initially, they had celebrated their bloodless victory, mocking Daemon as a coward who had fled before the might of the Greens.

But the victory was hollow.

News had soon arrived that King's Landing had fallen to the Blacks, and Rhaenyra now sat on the Iron Throne, his mother and sweet sister taken as hostages.

Daemon, far from being a coward, had outmanoeuvred him, drawing Aemond to Harrenhal while the real prize slipped away.

The realization had been a bitter one, and now Aemond lay in the ruins of a castle that was as broken as his plans.

The rain poured harder, as if the gods themselves were mocking him. Every drop that struck the stone was a reminder of his failure, of how his uncle had outsmarted him.

Anger seethed within him, a fire that threatened to consume him from the inside. He was trapped in Harrenhal, far from King's Landing, with little choice but to regroup and try to salvage what remained of the Greens' cause.

Aemond clenched his fists, the anger fuelling his resolve. He would not be beaten, not by Daemon, not by anyone.

As the rain continued to pour, Aemond began to form new plans, his mind racing with possibilities.

But for now, all he could do was listen to the rain and wait.

Aemond tossed and turned in the tattered bed, sleep evading him as his mind churned with anger and frustration.

The rain outside had grown heavier, its pounding relentless against the ruined walls of Harrenhal.

Suddenly, in the midst of his restlessness, Aemond noticed a shadow pass by the closed door of his chamber.

Who could be prowling the halls of Harrenhal at this hour? He rose from the bed and reached for his sword, unsheathing it silently.

Moving with the stealth of a hunter, he approached the door and slowly pushed it open, peering into the dimly lit corridor.

The hallway was empty, but he could hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing through the stone passages.

Determined to uncover the source, Aemond stepped out, following the elusive sound. The rain hammered against the castle even harder now.

The flickering torches cast long, wavering shadows as he crept forward, every muscle coiled and ready to strike.

He turned a corner and saw a shadowy figure slip into a room at the end of the hall. With a narrowed eye, Aemond quickened his pace, his grip on the sword tightening.

He reached the door, hesitating only for a moment before pushing it open and stepping inside.

The room was small and dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of herbs and something faintly metallic.

Before him stood a woman, the very one he had spared when he first took Harrenhal. She moved calmly, busying herself with adding ingredients into a bowl as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

"It's a touch late to be stalking about a strange castle putting its people to the sword," she said, not even looking up from her work.

Aemond’s sword flashed as he pointed it at her, his voice cold and sharp. "You—"

She turned to face him, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I'm Alys."

Aemond's eye narrowed as he assessed her. "Strong?" he demanded.

"No. Rivers," she replied evenly.

His sneer was immediate. "A bastard."

Alys only smiled wider, her gaze steady and unperturbed. "Once you get to know me, you'll find that I'm not so bad."

Aemond scoffed at her audacity. "What are you, a maester?"

She smiled again, a sly, knowing expression. "In a manner of speaking. I took on the duties after the last one fled."

Aemond circled the room slowly, his sword still held at the ready. "Why?"

Alys shrugged lightly, still focused on her task. "He just never settled in."

Aemond watched her intently, the tension in the room thickening as the rain drummed louder against the stone.

He was caught off guard by her calm demeanour, her unflinching presence in the face of his hostility.

There was something about her that unsettled him, though he couldn’t place what it was.

"How are you settling in, my Prince?" Alys asked suddenly, her voice smooth and knowing. "I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. Sleep can be thin in this place." She began mixing the ingredients in the bowl, the sound of the pestle grinding against the mortar echoing in the small room.

Aemond bristled at her observation. "What would you know of my sleep?"

Without missing a beat, Alys took a lumpy red substance and tossed it into the bowl. "Harrenhal has been cursed since its first stone was laid," she said, her voice taking on a slightly ominous tone.

She licked the red substance from her fingers, her eyes never leaving Aemond's. "Black Harren felled a grove of weirwood trees that grew on these lands, with heart trees imbued with the spirits of those who lived long before he came. It’s said their whispers can still be heard sometimes."

Aemond scoffed, his scepticism clear. "Ridiculous."

Alys only smiled, her expression inscrutable as she continued her work, the eerie atmosphere in the room growing thicker with every passing moment.

Alys looked up from her work, her gaze steady as she spoke. "The very bed you sleep in was made from such a heart tree; you know. Its whispers are likely what keep you from finding rest."

Aemond frowned, his eye narrowing. "You are a very strange kind of woman."

Alys giggled softly, a sound that echoed eerily in the small room. "I’m no woman at all, my Prince. I’m a barn owl cursed to live in human form."

Aemond curled his lips in disdain at her strange words, turning to leave the room.

But before he could step out, Alys’s voice cut through the air, stopping him in his tracks.

"Your hands will never be clean of the blood you’ve spilled, all for the sake of a debt that you once claimed was worth the eye you lost when you gained your dragon."

Aemond froze, his heart skipping a beat. "What did you say?"

Alys turned her eyes on him, her expression grave. "It was not your niece’s debt to pay, yet you claimed it so and took her maidenhead. Your thirst for vengeance then claimed its next victim in the skies above Storm's End—a nephew's life taken in rage. And that, in turn, led to the loss of your other nephew, a son for a son. And then there was your brother, burned and maimed for life by your command."

Aemond's face twisted in anger, his voice low and dangerous. "Do not try me with your insolence, witch."

Alys didn’t flinch, continuing as if she hadn’t heard his threat. "You don’t realize what you’ve lost. Things could have been so different."

He scoffed, turning his back on her, but her next words hit their mark.

"Even now, you think of her—of what might have been had you not been so cruel."

Aemond paused, his breath catching in his throat. The truth of her words unsettled him, stirring memories he had tried to bury.

He turned to see Alys pouring the contents of the bowl into a cup, the mixture dark and steaming. She held it out to him, her expression calm and knowing.

"Here, drink this," she said softly. "You’ll need your sleep if you are to right the wrongs you have committed."

Aemond hesitated, his pride warring with the growing sense of unease she had planted in his heart.

But something in her gaze—something ancient and wise—compelled him to reach out and take the cup. He brought it to his lips and drank deeply, the liquid bitter on his tongue.

Aemond found himself adrift in a dreamlike state, his surroundings shifting and warping until he was no longer in the ruins of Harrenhal but back within the familiar walls of the Red Keep.

He was disoriented, as if he were both present and not, a ghost in his own memories. The hallways of the castle were dimly lit by flickering torches, and the echoes of distant footsteps reverberated through the stone corridors.

As he walked, his body moved with a purpose that was not entirely his own, as if some unseen force was guiding him.

He knew where he was going, even before the door appeared before him, the door to the chambers Lucella had been given during her stay at the Red Keep.

After the fight at the dinner, he had followed her that night, unable to banish her image from his thoughts.

She had been so beautiful, so enchanting, and yet he had convinced himself that she was nothing more than an opportunity—a chance to exact a twisted form of vengeance for what her bastard brother had done to him.

As he approached the door, he felt the weight of his own guilt and desire pressing down on him, but he had pushed those feelings aside at the time, replacing them with cold calculation.

The door creaked open as he stepped inside, and there she was, just as he remembered.

Lucella stood by the window, her back to him. She had turned when she heard him enter, her eyes wide with surprise and something else—hope, perhaps? He had seen it then, but he had refused to acknowledge it.

In this strange, almost out-of-body experience, Aemond watched himself move toward her, watched the way his younger self’s eyes had lingered on her, drinking in every detail.

She was so vulnerable, so trusting, and he had taken advantage of that.

"You shouldn’t be here, Uncle" she had whispered, her voice trembling.

He had ignored her words, stepping closer until he was right in front of her.

His hand had reached out, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, and he had marvelled at how soft it was, how perfect she was.

Even when he was a child, he had always thought she was beautiful.

But he had steeled himself, reminding himself of why he was there.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, the kiss searing and insistent.

Lucella pulled away, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and desire. But the intensity of his kiss, had been too much to resist.

With a soft moan, she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back passionately.

Aemond’s hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, his kisses growing more fervent.

His hands roaming over Lucella’s back as he slowly backed them towards the bed.

Their lips never parting; each kiss more heated than the last. Lucella breath hitched as she felt his long fingers deftly begin to untie the laces of her dress.

As the laces came undone, Aemond's hands brushed against her bare skin. Lucella shivered at his touch, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Aemond smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened his usual intensity.

His hands moved with purpose, sliding the dress from her shoulders and down her body, exposing her skin to the cool air.

Lucella’s hands found their way to Aemond’s own clothing, eager to remove the barriers between them.

Once she had removed the out layers of his clothing, her fingers explored the hard planes of his chest and abdomen.

Aemond groaned softly at her touch, his lips trailing down her neck as he laid her back against the soft sheets.

Aemond positioned himself above her, his expression a mixture of desire and determination.

Lucella’s breath caught in her throat as she gently cupped his face with her hands. Her fingers brushed against the rough texture of his scar.

Slowly, she slipped off his eyepatch, revealing the sapphire he had placed where his eye once was.

With tenderness, Lucella leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his scarred cheek.

She felt Aemond’s sharp intake of breath, a moment of pure vulnerability passing between them.

Her fingers moved to the tie that bound his long, silver hair. With a gentle tug, she undid it, and his hair cascaded down, framing his chiselled face.

“So beautiful,” whispered Lucella, her voice filled with affection.

Aemond’s gaze softened, the fierce intensity giving way to something more tender, more real.

“My sweetest-” whispered Aemond as he pulled away and descended down her body, kissing and nipping at her skin as he went.

A strange feeling of familiarity lingered within his mind. Almost like they'd done this dance a thousand times before.

“W-What are you doing?” asked Lucella shyly.

“I want to kiss you-here” replied Aemond as he pressed forward and ran his tongue over her warm wet folds.

She bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to slowly tease her entrance.

“None of that. I want to hear how good I make you feel” growled Aemond as he began moving his tongue against her, in rhythm with his fingers.

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Lucella, as she writhed against the sheets.

“That’s it-such a good girl for me” growled Aemond.

“OH-” whimpered Lucella, as Aemond continued to move his tongue and fingers over her centre.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen. Come for me” whispered Aemond, his tongue moving across her pearl.

Lucella arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.

Aemond slowly crawled up her body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.

Lucella blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.

“Calm yourself issa zaldrīzes” muttered Aemond, as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth, sucking off her slick. (My dragon).

“W-What are you doing?” asked Lucella as Aemond’s hand slid down her body and began teasing her folds.

“I-I need to prepare you a little more” whispered Aemond.

“P-prepare me?” whispered Lucella.

“You are a maiden-” replied Aemond.

“Aemond” exclaimed Lucella as he slowly slipped a finger inside her, the slick from her first peak easing the way.

Aemond buried his face in Lucella’s neck as he began peppering kisses along her smooth skin as he added another finger, moving them in and out slowly.

“So warm-so wet for me” rasped Aemond, his hot breath tickling her skin.

“I-I think I’m ready” whispered Lucella.

Aemond removed his fingers and then moved between her open legs, supporting his weight on his left arm as he reached down and took his hard cock in his hand and placed the tip of it against her slick entrance.

Lucella shut her eyes tight, taking a deep breath as Aemond sheathed himself within her.

Aemond leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to her cheeks, his tongue catching her fallen tears.

Aemond’s cock twitched and throbbed with need, and he released a shuddered breath while Lucella sighed in relief.

“Are you ok?” asked Aemond.

“I-I think you can move now” whispered Lucella her hands running along the smooth plans of Aemond’s back.

Slowly Aemond withdrew and then moved forward, his cock reaching deep inside her.

“Are you ok?” repeated Aemond as he thrust inside her.

“Y-yes-I think you can move faster”

Aemond rested his head in the crook of her neck as he thrusts faster, his moans muffled against her skin.

“Ooh Aemond-that feels good” whined Lucella.

“Your perfect-” whispered Aemond.

“P-please Aemond. F-faster. H-harder” exclaimed Lucella.

“Lucy-my Lucy” moaned Aemond as he began to pound into her, his hips slapping against hers.

“-I-I f-feel-” whimpered Lucella.

“-Let it happen-my sweetest, peak for me” exclaimed Aemond.

“ OH- ”

“Fuck-that’s it-that’s it” muttered Aemond as he slipped his hand between their bodies and slowly began rubbing her pearl.

“ AEMOND ” screamed Lucella’s her peak exploded, making her entire body shake.

“Fuck-” groaned Aemond as he felt the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“-Aemond” whimpered Lucella.

“Lucy-” moaned Aemond pushed into the hilt for one last time, his cock throbbing as he spilled rope after rope of his seed.

Aemond watched the scene, the bile rising in his throat, he knew what was coming.

He would pull his softened cock from her and redress himself with all the haste he could muster.

The sound of her sweet shaky voice asking him to stay was like a knife to the heart.

He watched himself hesitate, that inner conflict, he remembered it well.

Torn between staying or following through on his plan.

In the end, he chose the latter.

He convinced himself that this was justice, that she was nothing to him.

But the truth had been far more complicated. He had wanted her—truly wanted her. The fire that had burned within him that night was not born of anger or revenge, but of a deep, undeniable desire.

Even as he took her, he knew that she meant more to him than he could admit.

But he had buried those feelings, locking them away beneath layers of pride and pain.

He had told her she meant nothing, that she was just a means to an end, that he had taken her maidens blood in exchange for the eye he lost, but even now, in this strange half-dream, half-memory, he knew he had lied.

Then he had left her there, discarded her with her maidens blood and his seed between her thighs.

Her sobs had haunted him as he walked away, the weight of what he had done pressing down on him like a physical burden.

Aemond watched as his younger self walked out of the room, leaving Lucella behind. He wanted to scream, to reach out and stop himself, to tell her the truth—that she had meant something to him, that she had always meant something.

But he was trapped in this memory, unable to change what had already been done.

The memory began to fade, the walls of the Red Keep dissolving around him as the darkness closed in.

Aemond was left with the echo of his own voice in his mind, the cruel, cold words he had spoken, and the knowledge that he had lost something precious that night—something he could never get back.

Aemond sat at the head of the table, the once-grand hall of Harrenhal a shadow of its former self, much like his own fraying composure.

Ser Criston Cole spoke with authority, laying out plans for their next move. His voice was calm, confident, as he detailed a potential assault on the small town of Drarry.

The town’s levies could bolster their dwindling forces, he reasoned. It was a sound strategy, one that should have commanded Aemond's full attention.

But Aemond wasn’t listening. His mind drifted, the words swirling around him like the incessant rain outside, distant and meaningless.

His attention was instead captured by the young boy serving wine, a boy who shouldn’t—couldn’t—be there. It was Lucerys.

Aemond's heart pounded as he stared, unblinking, at the boy. The youthful, innocent face he had once known approached him, but something was horribly wrong.

Luke’s visage began to warp and twist, the fresh, unmarred skin turning a sickly grey, decaying before Aemond’s eyes. His eyes bulged grotesquely from their sockets; his flesh rotted away to reveal bone.

Deep, jagged gashes crisscrossed his body, and parts of him were simply missing—his left arm gone, his torso a ghastly open wound.

"Wine, Your Grace?" Luke rasped, his voice a nightmarish croak as water and bile spilled from his mouth.

Aemond lurched from his seat. The occupants of the table stared at him, confusion and alarm evident in their expressions.

Ser Criston Cole’s voice cut through the sudden silence, sharp with concern.

"Are you all right, Your Grace?"

Aemond’s breathing was ragged, his eye wild as he pointed toward the abomination before him. "Can’t you see him?"

Criston exchanged worried glances with the other men at the table. "See who?"

Aemond’s words died in his throat as he turned back to where the twisted figure of Luke had stood.

But instead of the grotesque apparition, there was now only an older, grey-haired woman, her movements slow and deliberate as she poured the wine.

Her face was lined with age, her expression calm, as if nothing had happened. The room around Aemond felt suddenly too small, the air thick and suffocating.

His breath hitched as he glanced back at Ser Criston, who was watching him with deepening concern.

"Are you all right, Your Grace?" Criston repeated, his voice softer this time, as though speaking to a man on the edge.

Aemond forced himself to nod, swallowing hard against the bile that rose in his throat. He tried to focus on the words still being spoken around the table, tried to ground himself in the reality of their situation, but his mind was spinning, unable to shake what he had just seen.

He reached for the cup in front of him, his hand trembling slightly as he brought it to his lips. The bitter taste of the wine lingered on his tongue, sharp and acrid, but it did little to steady his nerves.

His thoughts were a tangled web of anger, fear, and something else—something he couldn’t quite name.

Aemond sat slumped in a chair before the fire, the flames casting flickering shadows across the worn stone walls of Harrenhal.

His head hung low, cradled in his hands, the weight of the past days pressing heavily upon him.

He felt disconnected, as though the world around him had become a blur, the edges of reality fraying like the tattered banners that hung in the desolate castle.

With a sigh, he pulled off his eyepatch, exposing the sapphire that gleamed coldly in the firelight. The socket where his eye had once been throbbed with a dull ache.

He took a slow sip of wine, hoping the liquid might numb the gnawing unease that had settled in his chest.

But then, a sound pierced through the haze that enveloped him—a soft, mournful weeping.

The sound was faint, distant, but unmistakable. He set the cup down, the echo of its base clinking against the table, and reached for his sword.

The cold steel felt reassuring in his grip as he rose from the chair, the fire at his back now casting long, dancing shadows along the walls.

He moved through the darkened corridors of Harrenhal, the sound of weeping guiding him like a beacon through the gloom.

The castle was silent save for the rain still pounding against the stones outside, but the weeping cut through it all, a sorrowful melody that pulled him deeper into the bowels of the keep.

Aemond paused in front of a closed door, the source of the weeping just beyond. He hesitated for a moment, his pulse thrumming in his ears, before pushing the door open with a slow creak.

Suddenly, the world around him shifted, the cold, crumbling walls of Harrenhal melting away to be replaced by something entirely different.

He blinked, disoriented, as he found himself standing in a chamber unfamiliar yet unmistakable. The walls were adorned with carved dragons, their serpentine forms etched into the stone, and the distant roars of dragons echoed through the air.

The air here was warm, heavy with the scent of salt and ash. It dawned on him with a start—this was Dragonstone.

The weeping grew louder, more desperate, and Aemond’s breath hitched as he moved further into the room.

On the bed, shrouded in shadow and sorrow, was Lucella. She was huddled against her mother, Rhaenyra, who held her tightly, stroking her hair in a futile attempt to soothe her daughter’s anguish.

Lucella’s sobs were gut-wrenching, her small frame shaking with the force of her grief. Aemond’s breath caught in his throat, a mix of confusion and dread rising within him.

He took a step forward, the sword in his hand now feeling alien, almost wrong, in this place.

His gaze locked onto Lucella, her face buried in Rhaenyra’s shoulder, her tears soaking her gown.

Aemond’s grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles white, but he felt powerless, a mere spectator in this twisted dream. His mouth opened to speak, to say something—anything—but no words came.

He was paralyzed by the weight of his own guilt, the sight of Lucella’s broken form etched into his mind

Aemond stood at the foot of the bed, his presence unnoticed by the two women.

The air was thick with tension, the only sounds in the room the soft crackling of the fire and Lucella’s quiet sobs.

"On the night of the petition for Driftmark-" Lucella whispered, her voice trembling as she confessed the truth that weighed so heavily on her. "Aemond, came to my chambers, and he took my maidenhead-"

Rhaenyra's grip on her daughter tightened, her knuckles white as she struggled to contain the fury simmering just beneath the surface. "Did he force himself on you?"

Lucella shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No, Mother, he didn’t force me. He whispered sweet words and when he touched me, it was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. He was gentle, he made me feel good" Her voice faltered, a wistful note creeping in as she remembered that night, her words tinged with a sadness that pierced through Aemond like a dagger.

“Lucella-” whispered Rhaenyra softly.

"But when it was over," Lucella continued, her voice breaking, "He discarded me. Like I was nothing. He said that I was a means to an end, that my maidens blood was an exchange for the eye he lost"

Rhaenyra's expression darkened, her eyes burning with cold, calculated fury. "He took advantage of you and he will pay for it," she swore, her voice low and dangerous. "For what he has done to you, for what he did to Lucerys. I swear it. He will pay”

Aemond felt the weight of her words like a noose tightening around his neck. This was his fault—he had done this.

He had shattered Lucella’s trust, her innocence, and now, as he stood there, he was faced with the unbearable consequences of his cruelty. He had thought himself in control, convinced that this was justice, but now, watching the devastation he had wrought, he realized how terribly wrong he had been.

But then, Lucella spoke again, her voice trembling with something deeper, something that sent a cold chill down Aemond’s spine.

“Mother-forgive me” she began, her breath hitching, “His seed, it took root. I carry his child inside me.”

The room fell deathly silent, the air thick with the weight of her words. Aemond’s heart stopped, his mind reeling as he stared at Lucella, unable to process what she had just said.

A child. His child.

Rhaenyra’s reaction was immediate. Horror and disbelief flashed across her face as she pulled Lucella even closer, as if trying to shield her from the harsh reality of the situation.

"No-" she whispered, her voice breaking.

Lucella nodded, her tears flowing freely. “It’s true, Mother. I carry his child.”

Aemond’s knees felt weak, his body trembling as the full weight of his actions crashed down upon him.

He had not only destroyed Lucella’s innocence but had also left her with a child—a child that would bear the burden of his sins.

"Do you wish to keep the child?" Rhaenyra's voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of urgency, of desperate concern.

Lucella hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "The child is innocent of their father's sins," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I cannot condemn them for what he has done. This is my child, Mother”

Rhaenyra’s heart ached with a mixture of pride and sorrow. She held Lucella close, pressing a kiss to her forehead, her mind already racing to find a way to protect her daughter and the innocent life she now carried.

"You are strong, my sweet girl," she murmured. "But for your safety, and that of the child, we must keep the identity of the father a secret—at least for now. No one can know that the child belongs to Aemond”

Lucella nodded again, understanding the gravity of her mother's words.

The war had already torn their family apart, and the truth of her child's lineage could ignite a blaze that would consume them all.

"You will go to the Vale along with Aegon and Viserys, to stay with Lady Jeyne Arryn” said Rhaenyra, her voice firm with determination

Lucella's eyes widened slightly at the mention of her younger brothers. "Aegon and Viserys?"

Rhaenyra nodded. "Yes, they will go with you as will your dragon Silverwing. You will be well cared for in the Vale, but you must remain far from this war. Jacaerys has informed me that Lord Cregan Stark has agreed to take your hand in marriage, of course you being with child does complicate things, and I understand if you do not wish to follow through with the marriage-”

“What man would take a woman as his wife whilst she carries another man’s child” asked Lucella quietly.

“An honourable one-but it’s your choice my sweet girl, I will not force you” said Rhaenyra.

“I support my Queen, and I will consider the marriage”

Rhaenyra hugged her daughter tightly, as if trying to imprint this moment into her memory. "You are so brave, my love, I was truly blessed the day you were born"

As the embrace lingered, Aemond, still standing at the foot of the bed, felt an overwhelming urge to reach out to Lucella, to tell her that he had not meant for things to turn out this way.

But when he extended his hand, it was as if an invisible barrier prevented him from touching her.

He tried to call out to her, but his voice was lost in the void, drowned out by the increasing darkness that surrounded him.

The room, Rhaenyra, and Lucella began to fade, their voices becoming distant, muffled.

Panic surged through Aemond as he fought against the encroaching blackness, desperate to hold onto the last vestiges of the vision.

And then, in an instant, everything vanished.

Aemond jolted awake, gasping for breath. He was back in his bed at Harrenhal, the remnants of the dream clinging to him like a cold sweat.

His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with the revelation that Lucella was carrying his child. The weight of what he had seen, what he had heard, bore down on him like a leaden shroud.

This was no ordinary dream—it was a vision, a cruel reminder of the consequences of his actions.

Lucella, far away in the Vale, hidden from the war and from him, was carrying his child. A child he might never see.

Aemond sat there, staring into the darkness of his chamber, his mind a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.

The morning sun barely touched the horizon when Aemond stormed through the corridors of Harrenhal, his mind set with a singular purpose.

The events of the previous night, the vision of Lucella and the revelation of his child, had ignited a fierce determination within him. He could no longer afford to remain idle, bound by the chains of his own mistakes.

Ser Criston Cole, deep in discussion over battle plans, was abruptly interrupted as Aemond barrelled past him, disregarding his shocked protests.

The plans for an assault on Drarry, once deemed crucial, now seemed inconsequential in the face of the personal turmoil Aemond faced.

As he descended the stone steps toward Vhagar’s resting place, the sound of his hurried footsteps was interrupted by a familiar, unsettling voice.

“It’s too late,” Alys said softly, her tone almost too calm for the gravity of her words.

Aemond stopped abruptly, turning to face her. “What do you mean, it’s too late?”

Alys’ lips curled into a smile that held no warmth. “Lucella is no longer in the Vale.”

Aemond’s heart pounded as he demanded, “Where is she?”

Alys’ smile widened, her eyes glinting with a cruel delight. “Lucella now resides at Winterfell, as the soon to be wife of Lord Cregan Stark.”

The words hit Aemond like a physical blow. “What?”

Alys tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. “To secure the North for her mother, Lucella has agreed to wed the Warden of the North. It was a strategic marriage, one that consolidates power and allies. Your child will be raised in the North, under the protection of House Stark.”

Aemond’s face twisted in rage. “She carries my child! She belongs with me!”

Alys merely smiled again, her expression unchanging. “Aye, she carries your child. But Lord Stark is an honourable man. He has pledged to protect both Lucella and the child. Tell me, kinslayer, how does it feel knowing that your son will be raised by a wolf? That he will grow up calling another man father?

“You dare-” snarled Aemond, freezing as he felt something soft move across the back of he clenched hand.

He looked down and for the briefest of seconds a saw a flash of ribbon, gold and white.

“Your arrogance and pride have cost you the one thing you have sought your entire life. Lucella would have been a good wife; she would have loved you, given you many children. You would’ve had everything you ever wanted, but now, such things are lost to you.”

Aemond’s breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of what Alys was saying.

The world seemed to spin around him, the walls of Harrenhal pressing in on him as if mocking his loss.

Alys turned to leave, her form slipping back into the shadows as she offered no further comfort or explanation.

Her parting words lingered in the air, a cruel reminder of the choices that had led him to this point.

Aemond was left standing alone, his thoughts a storm of anger, regret, and despair. The realization that Lucella, the woman he had wronged, would soon belong to another, and that his child would grow up under another man’s name, crushed him under a weight he could barely endure.

As Alys disappeared from view, Aemond sank to his knees, the full impact of his actions crashing down upon him.

Days blurred into an unrelenting haze for Aemond, each one melding into the next as the weight of his actions and their consequences pressed down on him.

The war continued, relentless and unforgiving. Strategies were drawn and redrawn, plans for battles and sieges were made and executed with grim efficiency.

Patrols scoured the countryside, small settlements loyal to Rhaenyra were attacked and burned, their inhabitants driven from their homes or slaughtered.

The brutality of the conflict seemed endless, a grim reflection of the turmoil within Aemond’s own mind.

Yet, despite the relentless pace of war, the nights were far worse.

In the darkness, where shadows danced and the silence of Harrenhal was punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the hearth or the distant rumble of thunder, Aemond was haunted by nightmares that left him waking in a cold sweat, his heart racing.

Lucerys appeared to him in his dreams. Sometimes, he came as a sweet-faced child, his eyes wide and innocent, his smile unblemished by the cruelty of their world.

Other times, Lucerys was a grotesque, rotting mass of flesh and bone, his once-pristine features now distorted by decay and violence.

His body was marred by deep wounds, the sight of him a horrific testament to the fatal consequences of Aemond's vendetta.

As if the visions of Lucerys were not torment enough, Aemond was plagued by the weeping sounds of Lucella.

Her voice, broken and plaintive, filled the nights with a sorrowful lament. She would ask, over and over, "Why?"—a question that cut through Aemond’s soul with a sharpness that left him gasping for breath.

He could not answer her, could not explain why he had allowed the rage and hatred within him to consume his compassion, why he had been driven to such cruelty.

And then came the visions of his brother Aegon, a spectre of burnt and charred blackened flesh.

Aegon’s form was twisted and unrecognizable, his once-familiar features now a nightmare of burns and disfigurements.

His ghostly voice would accuse Aemond of betrayal, of causing his suffering and letting him fall.

"We are brothers," Aegon would rasp in the dreamscape, the anguish in his voice palpable. "How could you do this to me? Do you truly hate me that much?"

These nightly horrors, each one a reflection of his deepest fears and regrets, eroded Aemond’s sense of self.

The lines between dream and reality grew increasingly blurred. He would wake up trembling, the echo of his nightmares clinging to him like a shroud.

The faces of Lucerys and Aegon, the sound of Lucella’s weeping, all of it haunted him with an intensity that made the waking hours a desperate attempt to outrun the demons that plagued his sleep.

In the harsh light of day, he would rise, draw his sword, and return to the cycle of war and violence, but the burden of his actions weighed heavily on him.

The faces of the people he had wronged, the blood on his hands, the dreams that taunted him with their cruel reminders, all mingled together in a relentless torment that made him question if there was any escape from the darkness that had now consumed him.

Aemond stood alone in the ruined courtyard of Harrenhal, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow over the desolate stone.

He had taken to spending his time in solitude, seeking solace in the cold embrace of the night sky and the silence that now enveloped the once-majestic castle.

His thoughts, tangled in regrets and what-ifs, churned restlessly as he gazed at the distant, indifferent moon.

The serenity of his isolation was suddenly pierced by the soft, unmistakable sound of a newborn baby's cry.

The sound was so incongruous with the emptiness of Harrenhal that it jolted Aemond from his reverie.

He followed the sound with a mix of confusion and desperation, his heart pounding with a sense of urgency that he could not explain.

He came to a stop before a set of weathered wooden doors, their surface marred by time and neglect.

With a deep breath, he pushed them open and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, and his eyes were drawn to Lucella, who sat on the edge of a bed, gently rocking a small bundle in her arms.

Aemond’s heart ached as he saw himself sitting on the bed beside her, taking the bundle into his own arms with a tenderness that seemed foreign and distant.

He watched as this other version of himself whispered softly, “ēdrugon ñuha zaldrītsos” (sleep my little dragon).

The warmth in his voice was palpable, and Aemond felt a pang of longing for a peace and connection he had never fully embraced.

Before he could process the depth of the moment, the room began to fade, plunging into darkness.

The sound of a child’s giggle echoed around him, drawing his attention.

Aemond turned to see a silver-haired boy, no older than six, standing proudly in the training grounds of the Red Keep.

The boy swung a wooden sword with a determined grin, his laughter ringing out as he called, “Watch me, Kepa! Watch me!” (Father).

Aemond’s heart warmed as he observed this tender scene, the boy’s eager energy a reflection of his own youthful enthusiasm.

He watched himself teaching the boy the skills of the sword with patience and affection.

The bond between father and son was evident in their shared joy and the way they moved together in a dance of instruction and play.

In an instant, the scene shifted again. Aemond found himself standing beside Lucella as she gave birth to a baby girl.

The sight of the child being placed into her arms, Lucella’s exhausted yet elated expression, was accompanied by the sound of his own cries as he held their daughter.

The raw emotion on his face was a testament to the profound love and vulnerability he felt.

The vision continued to shift, and he saw another version of himself taking his children flying on Vhagar, with Lucella flying beside them on Silverwing.

The thrill of the flight was unmistakable, the sky filled with the sound of their laughter and the roars of their own hatchling dragons soaring alongside them.

The scene was a vivid portrayal of a life filled with joy and familial bonding, a life that seemed so out of reach, but at the same time it seemed like a memory, one that he couldn't place.

Aemond felt an intense pressure in his chest, as if the weight of the vision was physically constricting his breath.

The laughter of his children, so vibrant and full of life, became a haunting reminder of what he had lost. The scenes began to dissolve, and the joy that had filled them faded into the encroaching darkness.

Gasping for air, Aemond reeled backwards, clutching his chest as if trying to hold onto the remnants of the dream.

He stumbled and found himself back in his chamber at Harrenhal, the oppressive darkness of the room pressing in on him. He slumped into the corner, his back against the cold stone wall, and the tears that had long been pent up finally broke free.

As Aemond cried, the sound of his children’s laughter seemed to be swallowed by the void, leaving him alone with the heavy, crushing weight of his regrets and the unbearable knowledge of what might have been.

Aemond sat in the cold, dark corner of his chamber, his body trembling as he sobbed uncontrollably.

The overwhelming flood of grief, regret, and torment seemed to crush him from all sides. He could barely breathe through the anguish that wracked his entire being.

He cried out into the emptiness of the room, his voice hoarse and pleading. "Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone! I can't take it anymore-"

The silence that followed was heavy, almost oppressive, until Aemond felt a subtle movement in front of him.

He looked up, his tear-blurred vision struggling to focus, and saw Alys kneeling before him.

She reached out, her fingers gentle as they brushed through his dishevelled hair, an unexpected comfort in the midst of his despair.

Aemond, driven by an instinctive need for solace, moved forward and wrapped his arms around her, his grip desperate and tight. He buried his face in her shoulder, his cries muffled against her. "Please, stop tormenting me-to show me the chidren its cruel"

Alys remained still for a moment, her voice soft and almost serene. "Your only freedom is within the eye of the gods."

The words struck Aemond like a blow to the chest. He remembered his sister Helaena’s words, the chilling premonition she had uttered when he had begged her to come with him to Harrenhal and she had refused.

"Aegon will be king again," she had said, "he's yet to see victory, he sits on a wooden throne, and you'll be dead, swallowed up in the gods' eye, you were never seen again."

The memory was like a dagger twisting in his heart, amplifying the sense of doom that had followed him.

He pulled away from Alys, his face a mask of anguish and realization. "Leave me," he said, his voice breaking. "I wish to be alone, just as I always have been."

Alys’s hand reached out to him, a gesture of compassion, but he snatched it away with a harsh movement. His anger and sorrow surged together, mingling with a desperate need for solitude.

"I said leave!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

Alys stood, her expression unreadable, and then she slowly walked away, her footsteps fading into the distance.

As the last echoes of Alys’s departure faded, Aemond slumped back against the cold stone wall, the chill seeping into his bones.

He closed his eye, trying to shut out the overwhelming sense of loss and failure.

With a whisper barely audible even to himself, he repeated the one name that seemed to encapsulate his pain, his regret, and his longing: “Lucella.”

As the days dragged on, Aemond’s mind grew increasingly fragile, the weight of his regrets and visions pressing down upon him with relentless intensity.

The once-proud prince who had thrived on determination and strength now found himself teetering on the edge of madness.

Each night, the visions that plagued his sleep became more vivid, more insistent. Lucerys haunted him with that same blend of innocence and grotesque horror, Lucella’s weeping echoed in the corridors of his mind, and Aegon’s charred, accusing form lingered at the corners of his consciousness, sniping and hurling insults at him.

'Coward, treasonous dog and vile cunt' were some of the one's his brother favoured.

When word reached Harrenhal of Helaena’s death, Aemond’s fragile grip on reality began to unravel entirely.

The news that his gentle sister had thrown herself from the window of Maegor’s Holdfast struck him like a dagger to the heart.

Helaena, who had seen visions of the future in her dreams, had become yet another victim of the war that had torn their family apart. The shock of her death sent Aemond spiralling deeper into the abyss of his own despair.

He withdrew further from the world around him, preferring the cold comfort of solitude over the company of others.

He stopped attending the war councils, even as Ser Criston Cole and the remaining host of thirty-six hundred Greens prepared to march south from Harrenhal to meet the Hightower forces.

Aemond refused to join them, claiming he would follow later, though deep down he knew he had no intention of doing so.

Instead, he lingered in the empty halls of Harrenhal, haunted by the ghosts of his past and the weight of his failures.

He ate alone, trained alone, and slept fitfully in a chamber that seemed to grow darker and more oppressive with each passing day.

After Criston and the men had left, the silence in Harrenhal became deafening. The once-mighty fortress, now nearly empty, seemed to breathe with the echoes of lost battles and the whispers of curses long forgotten.

Aemond’s thoughts turned inward, his despair and grief consuming him whole.

There was no longer a way forward, no victory that could redeem the losses he had suffered. His mind circled around the same grim conclusion: there was but one way out now.

With a heavy heart, Aemond sat at a table in his chamber, a quill in hand. He stared at the blank parchment before him, the candlelight casting flickering shadows across his face. He hesitated for a moment, then began to write. finality, each stroke of the quill marking a step closer to his inevitable end. The letter was addressed to his uncle, Daemon.

"Daemon," the letter began, the words sharp and direct, "The time has come for us to settle this war as it should have been settled from the start—between you and me. I challenge you to meet me in the skies above the Gods Eye. Let this war end in fire and blood"

Aemond set the quill down, his hands shaking. He folded the letter carefully and sealed it with wax, pressing his sigil into the hot, red wax.

The task completed, he sat back in his chair, feeling the weight of the decision he had made settle heavily on his shoulders.

The room seemed to grow colder, the shadows lengthening as the candle flickered and sputtered. Aemond closed his eye, the sounds of Lucella’s weeping and the laughter of his lost children echoing in his mind.

The visions that had haunted him were not gone, but now, they seemed distant, as if they were preparing to leave him for good.

The next day, he would send the letter. And then, he would wait for the response that would seal his fate.

Two long weeks passed before Daemon finally arrived at Harrenhal.

Aemond spent those days in a fevered state of anticipation, his mind torn between dread and the fierce desire to end this war, to end himself.

When the day finally came, Aemond watched from the crumbling ramparts as Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, descended from the skies, his crimson scales glistening like blood in the fading sunlight.

The sight of his uncle astride the fearsome dragon filled Aemond with a cold resolve. This was it. The end.

He made his way to Vhagar, and with practiced ease, Aemond ascended the rope ladder and secured himself into the saddle.

He could feel Vhagar’s own anticipation, the bond between rider and dragon thrumming with shared purpose. With a roar that shook the very stones of Harrenhal, Vhagar took to the sky.

The two dragons met in the air, their roars echoing across the sky.

They circled each other, two titanic forces of nature, before clashing in a fiery, savage battle. Vhagar and Caraxes locked talons, their wings beating furiously as they tore at each other with teeth and claws.

The sky above the Gods Eye was filled with the sound of snapping jaws, the ripping of flesh, and the heat of dragon fire.

Caraxes was the first to find purchase, his long, serpentine body coiling around Vhagar’s neck. With a vicious twist, Caraxes latched onto Vhagar’s throat, his fangs sinking deep into the thick scales.

Blood, hot and dark, poured from the wound, raining down upon the waters below. Vhagar let out a deafening roar of pain and fury, her massive wings beating frantically as she tried to shake the smaller dragon off.

In a final, desperate act, Vhagar managed to tear into Caraxes’ belly with her claws.

The Blood Wyrm’s entrails spilled out, steaming in the cold air. But Caraxes did not release his grip on Vhagar’s throat. The two dragons were locked in a death embrace, neither willing to yield.

As Aemond struggled to keep control, he looked up in time to see Daemon leaping from the back of Caraxes, his sword, Dark Sister, gleaming in his hand.

The older man’s face was a mask of grim determination as he hurtled through the air, landing with catlike grace in front of Aemond on Vhagar’s back.

There was no time to react as Daemon moved with the speed of a man possessed, thrusting Dark Sister into Aemond’s remaining eye.

The blade pierced through flesh and bone, driving deep until it burst through the back of Aemond’s throat. The young prince gasped, a final, choking breath escaping him as the world went dark.

Below them, the two dying dragons plummeted toward the Gods Eye. The impact sent a gargantuan splash of water into the air, the surface boiling with the mingled blood of the two beasts.

As Caraxes, his strength failing, clawed his way onto the bank, he let out a final, rattling breath before collapsing, dead.

Vhagar, her throat torn out and her life slipping away, sank beneath the surface of the lake, her massive form dragging Aemond’s lifeless body with her.

The weight of the ancient dragon pulled them both down into the cold, dark depths.

Aemond jolted awake, his hand instinctively pressing against his remaining eye, his heart pounding with the intensity of a nightmare that lingered as a grim reality.

The sensation of the sword piercing through him still felt vividly real, the ghost of pain haunting him as he tried to calm his racing breath.

The room around him seemed to spin, the shadows from his nightmare clinging to the edges of his vision.

He felt a gentle hand on his arm and turned sharply to see Lucella gazing at him with concern.

For a split second, he was paralyzed by fear, convinced that this was yet another vision sent to torment him.

He gasped, moving backwards and falling out of bed with a heavy thud that echoed in the quiet room.

Aemond scrambled to his feet, the words of the witch, telling him that his freedom lay in the eye of the gods, seemed to mock him from the depths of his confusion.

He began pacing the room, muttering to himself about the unreality of it all. “It’s not real- another vision-sent to torment me-why must you keep tormenting me” His mind was a tumultuous storm, and he could barely grasp the threads of sanity slipping through his fingers.

Lucella got out of bed and moved to his side, taking his hand and pressing it gently to her cheek.

“I’m real, ñuha jorrāelagon” she said softly, her eyes filled with a tenderness that cut through his panic (my love).

But then Aemond’s voice wavered as he asked about the war. “The Greens repudiated the succession-crowned Aegon as King. Lucerys-he died in the skies above Storm’s End. Jaehaerys was murdered in retribution. A son for a son-” His babbling grew frantic, but Lucella’s calm presence seemed to anchor him, if only slightly.

Lucella placed her hands on his face and shushed him gently. “All is well,” she assured him. “Your grandsire had the intent to crown Aegon, but he lost his head for it, along with those who conspired against my mother. But it was our marriage that truly united the family.”

Aemond blinked, stunned and stammering. “M-marriage? What about your marriage to Lord Cregan Stark?”

Lucella grimaced slightly. “Cregan? He’s married to Alysanne Blackwood.”

Aemond’s eyes widened in confusion. “He is?”

Lucella sighed, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “What in the hell was in that wine you were drinking with Aegon?”

Aemond paused at the mention of is brother.

"A-Aegon. How is he?"

“Other than being deep in his cups, he was fine the last time I saw him.” replied Lucella.

“What about Helaena?” Aemond pressed.

“She’s recovering well” said Lucella.

“F-From what?” asked Aemond.

“From birthing another child—a son named Maelor. That’s why you were drinking with Aegon; you were celebrating the news of his son.”

“S-Son? But he and Helaena, t-they d-don’t-” muttered Aemond.

“Things aren’t perfect between them, but in recent years they have found comfort with one another-Aegon is trying and that’s all we can hope for” said Lucella softly.

The revelations were disorienting, but the most startling came next.

Lucella glanced towards a corner of the room, where a soft babble could be heard.

Aemond’s attention snapped to the cot, and he moved swiftly to see the babe inside. He stared down at the child, who reached up toward him with tiny, outstretched arms.

He picked up the baby, cradling them gently, and rocked them with a sense of deep, overwhelming affection.

Lucella’s smile was warm as she observed him. “You always were better at soothing our daughter than I was,” she said.

Aemond looked at her, his eye wide with astonishment. “D-daughter? What about our son?”

Lucella smiled softly. “Aerion is asleep in his nursery across the hall.”

The enormity of it all seemed to sink in. Aemond was overwhelmed by the flood of memories that quickly returned to him—the execution of his grandsire, the crowning of Rhaenyra, the wedding to Lucella, the birth of their son, Aerion, and the moments of being with his family.

He remembered reading to Aerion, singing to him in High Valyrian, helping him learn to walk and talk. He saw Lucella beside him once more, giving birth to their daughter, Daenys.

Stunned and teary-eyed, he whispered, “It’s real-all of this is real.”

Lucella’s expression softened, and she gave him a playful pinch. Aemond winced, and Lucella’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she said, “Is that real enough for you?”

Aemond furrowed his brow but then his eye caught sight of the gold and white ribbon, delicately wrapped around a book.

Lucella followed Aemond's gaze and smiled, "The ribbon that bound our hands on our wedding day-"

"Y-You kept it" muttered Aemond, remembering the feel of it on the back of his hand.

"Yes-I did" replied Lucella softly.

Aemond’s face broke into a genuine smile as he leaned in to kiss her lips. She then went on her tiptoes, whispering in his ear, “I’m with child again.”

Aemond’s joyous laughter sounded round the room, his arms holding their daughter even closer.

“T-Truly?”

“Yes-it seems that your seed really likes to take root inside me ” replied Lucella smirking.

As Aemond pressed another kiss to her lips, his attention was caught by the door as it creaked open softly.

Aemond looked to see their son, Aerion, standing in the doorway.

The little boy was sucking his thumb and clutching a stuffed dragon teddy to his chest, his silver hair tousled from sleep. His big, round eyes gazed at his parents, filled with the innocent worry only a child could have.

Lucella smiled warmly at the sight of their son. "What’s wrong, sweet boy?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Aerion shuffled into the room, his thumb still in his mouth as he mumbled, “No sleep, Mama.”

Lucella’s heart melted at the sight of him. She walked over and scooped him up in her arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "How about some snuggles with your father?" she suggested softly.

Aerion nodded, his thumb popping out of his mouth as he hugged his stuffed dragon tighter. Lucella carried him to the bed and placed him beside Aemond, who had just settled with Daenys resting on his chest.

Aemond smiled tenderly as Aerion snuggled up against his side, seeking comfort and warmth.

Aemond gently adjusted his position, leaning back against the pillows to support both children.

Daenys, nestled on his chest, made small, contented noises in her sleep, while Aerion curled up close to his father.

The boy's tiny fingers clung to Aemond's loose cotton shirt, his stuffed dragon tucked securely under his arm.

Lucella climbed into bed beside them, her eyes filled with love as she watched her family. She reached out, gently brushing her fingers through Aerion’s hair before leaning into place a soft kiss on Aemond’s cheek.

Aemond turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze, and smiled—an expression filled with deep contentment and peace.

In that moment, Aemond felt like he finally had everything he had ever wanted. The weight of his past, the burdens of a war that would never come to pass, and the haunting visions that had plagued him all seemed to dissipate, replaced by the warmth and love surrounding him.

His family was whole, safe, and with him—everything else faded away.

As they all settled into the quiet, Lucella lay her head on Aemond's shoulder, her hand resting lightly on Aerion's form.

The gentle rise and fall of their children’s breathing filled the room, a soothing rhythm that lulled them all into a sense of serene calm.

Aemond glanced down at the two small faces resting against him, then over at Lucella, who smiled up at him, her eyes shining with the same love he felt in his heart.

The world outside could wait.

For now, in the sanctuary of their bed, surrounded by those he loved most, Aemond was content.

He finally had his family, his children, his wife—the life he had longed for, and it was more beautiful than he had ever dared to dream.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut

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dragonknightofsummerset · 7 months ago

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I'm not crying, you're crying 😭

#alie replays ds #distant shores #edward x mc #tbh idk why im taking it so hard this time around #so emotional about them though 😢#although. not to bring *that* up again. but how do we go from this to the reunions in blades? idk

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high-voltage-rat · 3 months ago

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Blood and Roses was a confusing time for them both.

#late nights with ali #ali plays ae #dragonfable #oc: ravyn #they're pals too. ravyn tries to act as a mentor figure and starts off a lot of sentences with 'as the one with more experience ravyning...#she thinks she's hilarious. raven does not agree lmao #anyway I'm replaying the valtrith plotline and ough ouch

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a2a2a2-1 · 5 months ago

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Back in Town Part 4 (Ali)

Check out Part1 (Back story) and Part2 (Megan) Part3 (Dave) As noted before Disclaimer: This is my first story so please forgive any typos and Errors. This is fiction.

Ali: Oh my I thought as I pedaled away from Megan and Dave’s house. That was unreal!! Their house was at the bottom of a hill, so I had to stand and pump the bike to get up to the top. My Mind was in a daze. I was reliving the nights activities as it climbed. Replying how big Dave was as Megan released it from his pants. How she caressed and teased his long shaft while playing with his hanging ball sack. There was a beauty to the rhythm both of them had as she worked his cock while teaching about each step. Then the beauty of Megan’s wet pussy. Dave was so deliberate as he teased her. He clearly enjoyed watching his wife squirm and whimper as he let her orgasm build. I could hear the Fap Fap fap in my head of Dave balls pounding against Megan clit. I never realized how wet I could get from just watching others playing. I heard a car coming up behind me was brought back into reality. It was then realized I was already past the top of the hill and had instinctively rested back down on the seat. I now also realized I was grinding on the front of the bike seat. The fear of a stranger seeing me teases by clit washed over me. As they passed, I returned to grinding and a little harder as the thrill gave me a rush. I settled down to let the road vibration tease me further as I coasted home. I was getting rather close to climax when I heard Dave’s Rule for Megan replaying in my head. I had never really thought about resisting the Release before. So figured would see if I could hold off until I got home. I felt like I was in a gentle fog as I got home. Grampa was half asleep on the couch when I came in and Gramma busy in the kitchen baking something as always. I did what I could to ask normal as I walked in. Saying my hellos then headed up to my room. I sent a text to Megan to let her know I was home and if I could stop by tomorrow as well? She agreed with no objection, and I could feel a wave of excitement flush over me. Got my pjs and hoped in the shower. I couldn’t help but play with the handheld shower head. I got back to the edge very quickly and the rush of willpower vs pleasure was so exhilarating. Finally, as the hot water was starting to end, I let myself release as I imagined what would happen tomorrow. I cleaned up quickly with the last of the hot water and headed off to bed.

The next day it was all I could to from telling the other girls what had happened while we were on our run morning. I had hoped to see Dave as yesterday, but that wasn’t in the cards today. I got back home, showered and did all I could to keep my mind occupied waiting for the day to tick by. I let Gramma know I was going to head back to head back to Megan’s for dinner so headed out as they started eating. I was so giddy with excitement on the ride over. I could not help but tease myself a little as I coasted down the hill to their house. I got there before Dave got home. Megan was clearly in the same mood as I, given she answered the door in a shimmering pink silk robe. My eyes were glued to the v created by the two sides that pointed to her beautiful cleavage. As last time she pulled me in for a hug, my face squeezed right in between her breasts. I held on as she brought it into the house. We talked for a little while as Megan was just finishing making dinner. Dave was able to get out of work a little early and before long we were done eating. Both Dave and Megan were enjoying some wine and much to my excitement they let me have a little sip here and there. Dinner was filled with sexual innuendoes, and it did not take long until Megan and I found ourselves in the bedroom while Dave cleaned up the Dishes. I tried to reach forward and pull to untie Megan’s robe, but she caught me. “Oh you have to be quicker than that” she said, as she grabbed my hand and spun me around, then pulled me in close for a kiss, while backing me update against the wall. Before I realized what was happening her soft tongue was dancing in my mouth and waves of lust followed over me. She slowly helped me out of my tank top and tight spandex shorts. Her soft hands and lips teasing me as she worked her way down my thin young body. I giggled a little as she leaned down and caressed my thin wisps of public I hair I had. “Oh look who’s already wet!” she said as finger slid between my lips. Right on cue Dave walked in. Megan sucked her finger and looked at Dave. “I think she’s ready for some fun” she said. I couldn’t see her Face, but Dave returned a nefarious grin and wink. Megan stopped back and said, “Now to see if you learned for yesterday’s lesson.” Pulling my hand she guided me over to the edge of the bed then looked and Dave. “I think some’s a bit over dressed” I picked up on the hint and helped Dave unbuckle his belt as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. I could see movement under his dress pants as I unzipped his pant and pulled down his slacks and boxers. My eyes were glued to his long dick that looks bigger that yesterday. I studied the mushroom head and hanging ball sack as he stepped out of the last of the cloths. This thing looks almost long as my forearm I thought. I reached up and felt the warmth radiating as I followed my finger along a big vein that ran down his shaft. The change from shaft to tip was intriguing. I lifted it up and around studying in detail. I could feel it getting rigid as I moved it around and was surprised by how firm the shaft seemed as compared to the softer tip. I gripped my hand around his shaft and jerked it forward and back like Megan done yesterday. I sensed Dave liked this as he took small stop forward and had a smile on his face. Remembering further I reached up with my other hand up alone his thigh and Dave moaned a little as I gripped by hand around his balls. I leaned in and kissed the tip of his now fulling ridged dick. Stretching my jaw a bit I wrapped my lips around and teased the tip with my tongue. I felt Megan behind me and felt her soft hands cup by budding nipples. She massaged them as I them as I played with Dave. Her hand then slid down my abs and down to my legs. Her hand slid down to my knee, encouraging me to spread my legs wider. She then slid her hand up slowly teasing my sensitive inner thigh.

I caught myself slowing my other duties a little in anticipation. Realizing this, I pulled out his now very hard unit from my mouth and used give it some longer strokes, as I studied how the skin slid up and down his shaft. I looked up at Dave who was watching Megan tease around my wet lips. I pumped a few a few more times watch is balls giggle and move around with the motion. As Megan had done, I lifted his shaft and started kissing just under his tip. We then locked Eye as I felt Megans hand finally reach my clit. He Smiled looking down at me as I melted with pleasure. My mind when blank as she teased and toyed with my clit. I tried to regain my senses and pulled his dick back down and sucked on the Tip some more. I tasted a new tag as I wrapped my tongue all around his Mushroom. I moved my other hand back to his balls squeezing softly as Megan had demonstrated. I felt Megan’s hand shift down and I moaned as finger entered. Dave moaned as well and I realized I had gripped a bit tight and was pulling on his sack to steady myself. “Ohh Sorry” I said before I even had his tip all the way out. “That was pleasure sweetie, you’re doing Great! Such a fast learner!” Dave said as he ran his hand thought my hair. I smiled wanted to please he even more now. His hand guiding me deeper on his shaft as I felt Megan working to get a 2nd finger in me. I moaned with please and it was all I could do to concentrate on Dave. I pumped my hand faster as Megan’s fingers were sliding in and out of me. I couldn’t take it much more. Pushed a little deeper on Dave, then pulled out to catch my breath. “Oh look like someone’s getting close” Megan said, taking the opportunity to sneak in for a kiss. Her tongue beckoned for every bit of Dave’s precum still in my mouth. Dave started stroking as he watched us kiss. Megan pushed me on my back. Straddling me as she stripped off her robe, then her Lace Bra letting her beautiful mountains rest back at their natural position. I could see a nice little wet spot as she pulled off her matching panties. She spun me around, so my head was on where I was sitting. I squealed I muffles excitement as my mouth was covered by her wet pussy while at the same time her tongue immediately when to town on my clit. I was in sensation overload! I licked up savored Megan’s juices as fast as I could but could barely concentrate. Megan’s tongue was going crazy. It was like a tornado spinning all around. With each flick I could feel the hood of my now hard clit slowly moving up and out of the way. I started to squirm as was almost too much. Megan repositioned her leg and lifted her pussy just enough for Dave to seize the moment and slid in his Shaft into Megan’s wet pussy. The timing was perfect as it distracted Megan from my clit for a moment. I wanted to cum so bad but riding this edge of potential release as exhilarating. I reached my hand around and adjusted so I could explore Dave’s balls and sack. I studied Dave’s long shaft moving in and now. Quickly the two were in a rhythm Dave had clearly found the right spot judging by Megans moans. I massaged Dave’s balls pulling slightly as I did before. They picked up the pace and I could tell they were both getting close. I leaned up and kissed Megan’s clit. I tried to do the flicking motion she had done to me. I apparently did things right as I heard Megan cry out. “Fuckk… MMeeee” I wiggled my pussy as I shifted up further to lick up the mix of juices that were dripping as Dave fucked her even faster.

“Cum on my Dick” Dave said with a commanding tone.. I worked my tongue as fast as I could. And feel Megan bury her face in my pussy and let out a loud moan of pleasure. Dave pulled his dick out after a few more thrusts and I reached up and pulled to luck it clean. Megan started to return to her senses and moved from on top of me. Dave was still very hard, and I asked for confirmation “Did you cum yet?” while looking up at him. “Not yet Sweetie” Dave said with a smile. “Did you want a ride too?” I was so horny I almost came at that just the proposition. I just Nodded and smiled. Megan that spun me around and lifted my legs up to my chest, then spreading them as wide as I could. I felt a wave of nerves and excitement full by body as Megan presented my wet pussy to Dave. He moved in and started by rubbing is dick between my lip and I couldn’t help but let out a Moan at the soft touch. He worked his tip up and down then slowly pushed in my tight pussy. Megan reached down and teased my clit slightly as he worked his dick inside of me. He pulled back and slid in and out, working a little deeper with thrust. I felt like I was in a fog. The tight pain was overwhelmed by the pleasure. I didn’t want this to stop. I could feel him in me can couldn’t keep from moaning as he worked me deeper. Megan then moved in taking turn teasing my click with her tongue then sucking off my juices from Dave’s cock “I… need…” works were lost on me as I tried to speak Dave winked as worked himself deeper inside of mee and I could not hold any longer. “Cum for us Ali!!! Dave said as I locked deep in his eye. Megan’s tongue when into overdrive as Dave pushed in deeper and pushed me right to the edge. I was about to explode as I ran my fingers thought Megan’s hair. I pulled her in as I felt the waves of euphoria explode all over me. I could feel my self-squeeze down hard on Dave’s shaft. I felt my muscle converse in waves of pure pleasure. Closing my eyes enjoying the ride. I was brought back to reality with the cocktail of Dave and myself on Megan’s tongue as it slid in for a succulent kiss. I was still in a fog as Megan teased my nipple slightly as she continued to kiss me. I heard Dave give Megan a spank and realized the rocking motion I was feeling was Dave pounding Megan hard and fast. Megan pulled up from the kiss clearly in need of air and to adjust for a more stable position. She was now straddling my leg with her left knee right between my legs. And I could feel it inching close to my wet and sensitive pussy. I shifted my had around and squeezed Megan hanging nipples, as the danced right front of me. I could tell they were both getting close, so I moved my hand down searching for her clit. Megan moaned at the touch as I worked to match the rhythm. My hand sliding with ease as she was dripping wet with enjoyment.

Twisted and reached for Dave’s sack and right on queue they both came hard and loud. I found myself teasing myself on her knee and leg with Dave’s final thrusts. Megan collapsed next to me I snuggled up close to her. I was in aww. I had cum before on my own a couple time but nothing like this. We were brought back to reality with a low steady rumble. I did not process it at first but then when I saw the lightning strike I realized it was time to head home. Dave came back partially dressed and advised us to get dressed and they would drive me home. We loaded my back in Megan’s suv and we headed back home. Along the way the 3 of us mapped out the lesson plan for the rest of the summer. This was gonna be the best summer ever…

The End

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sl33paholics · 11 months ago

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Why Can't You Love Me Back?

Yan!Ali Jr x black!fem!reader

Warning(s): General yandere behavior, stalking, harassment

"Leave me the fuck alone."

Was something you said to the man you were once a fan of weeks ago, but how did it get to this point?

The famous Ali Jr., the son of the world's greatest boxers of all time, Muhammad Ali, was hitting on you. You always attended the boxing events where he was the main star fighting with someone else in the ring. Amidst the roar of the crowd and the energy of the fights, Ali Jr.'s charismatic approach caught you off guard. His attempts at flirtation carried a unique intensity, a blend of confidence inherited from his legendary father and a genuine interest that hinted at more than just a passing connection.

In the afterglow of the boxing spectacle, the buzzing excitement persisted as you finally found yourself face-to-face with Ali Jr. out of all the eager fans getting pictures and autographs. His attention shifted toward you, his gaze holding a certain recognition. To Jr., it was love at first sight. Your beauty seemed to have cast a spell, making that moment more than just a fleeting exchange in the afterglow of fame. With autograph and picture in hand, you left the buzzing scene, hyped up, and pumped that you got to meet the man you always wanted to see. However, unaware that this seemingly ordinary encounter would soon be one that you regret.

On his way back to the hotel, in the dimly lit interior of the limo, Ali Jr. couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. The city lights blurred outside the tinted windows as the hum of the engine provided a backdrop to his thoughts. "You seem to be deep in thought, sir," his driver would say, making a casual observation. Breaking from his thoughts, Ali Jr. met the driver's gaze with a thoughtful smile. "Yeah, I met this pretty lady at the after show, I hope to see her again." He'd simply say, looking out the window.

As more events happened, he'd see you in the crowd cheering him on. Your crop top hugging your breasts as you held up a large sign with his name on it, your presence alone made him want to win the fight just for you, and you only. It encouraged Ali Jr. to throw another harsh jab at his opponent just to show off how strong he was to you.

So when he asked you for your socials and phone number when the event ended, it caught you off guard, but of course, you couldn't deny the offer. He was your favorite!

It started off with a few compliments and replies to his Instagram story until it turned into full-blown conversations. Now, you could tell he was flirting with you through these messages, but you didn't give that same energy to him. Which he noticed, but Ali Jr. brushed it off and believed you were too oblivious to notice it via text.

On days free from the whirlwind of boxing events, Ali Jr. found solace in spending time with you. He'd whisk you away on rides, the city's pulse blending with the engine's hum as you explored streets together. You watched him spar at the gym with other inspiring and upcoming boxers. Ali Jr. would tell you stories of his childhood and his famous father.

To you, you only saw him as a man who wanted to become close with one of his dearest fans turned friend. Although, to Ali Jr., he saw this as an opportunity to court you and potentially ask you to become his girlfriend.

When the moment arrived, you surprised the boxer with a straightforward rejection. "I appreciate the time we've spent, but I gotta boyfriend, and I'm committed to our relationship. Let's keep things friendly," you conveyed. The honesty in your words made his mind go blank. Was it shock? Was it anger? He couldn't tell. Jr. stared at you with a terrified look. "Did I do something wrong?" Ali would ask. "No! Not at all, it's just that I'm not interested in you like that. At all. You're a cool guy with tons of skills, I just don't see myself being with you. Let's stay platonic."

Since then, he's been out of his mind. Those texts stopped for a while, and then it started to get excessive out of nowhere. Just leaving your phone down for a short time can have this man sending you over 50 messages. You no longer answer his calls. You told everyone around you of your encounter and called him "a weirdo." It was exhausting.

So many voicemails from this guy alone. Over a hundred messages, most of them are Ali asking why you aren't picking up his calls or not responding. The guy's voice ranges from pleading to frustration, and the tone is unmistakably hurt. Each message seems to carry a weight of its own, painting a portrait of a man grappling with the realization that his feelings are not reciprocated as he had hoped.

You can't even walk peacefully around the city without this man somehow finding you. It's as if he's always just around the corner, his eyes scanning the crowds for a glimpse of you. The encounters are awkward, filled with a mix of longing and resentment as Ali Jr. struggles to come to terms with your decision.

Now, you don't know how he found your address, but he's been sending you a ton of gifts lately. Surprisingly, they're things you always wanted, each one arriving with a little note attached. The notes are heartfelt, expressing his regrets and other times it's obvious flirtation. It's as if each gift is an attempt to bridge the gap created by your rejection, a silent plea for another chance. Sometimes, Ali isn't so heartfelt in those messages whenever your boyfriend comes to receive them at your front door.

Ali's messages become less heartfelt in those instances, almost passive-aggressive, hinting at a desire to undermine your current relationship. The gifts, once symbols of his remorse, now carry an undertone of possessiveness and jealousy, as if he's trying to assert his presence in your life despite your clear boundaries. The situation grows increasingly uncomfortable as the boundary between genuine remorse and manipulation blurs. It came to a point where your boyfriend begged you to go talk to the man after seemingly being followed by some of his men at one point nearby the residence.

Ali was so giddy to get a text from you agreeing to meet him late into the evening. His excitement was palpable as he hastily made his way to the rendezvous point. The night air was charged with anticipation, and every passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity as he waited for your arrival. It was a chance for him to express his feelings and plead his case once more, hoping that this meeting would be the turning point in your relationship. When he saw you approaching, he was going in for a hug only for you to move him away with your hand.

"(Y/N), I'm so happy to see you! I-I thought you hated me, so I sent you the gifts, and it seems like they worked," Ali exclaimed as he approached you, a mix of relief and excitement in his voice. His words tumbled out in a rush, betraying his nervousness. The gifts, once a gesture of his longing and remorse, now seemed to have shifted the dynamic between you. As he stood before you, his eyes searched yours, hoping to find a spark of forgiveness or understanding in your gaze. "Listen, Ali, what can't you understand?" You sighed, scratching your elbows. "I'm not interested in you at all." The words hung heavy in the air, punctuating the tension between you. Ali's expression shifted from excitement to disappointment, his features contorting in a mix of hurt and disbelief. The reality of your rejection seemed to sink in, casting a shadow over the hopeful anticipation that had fueled his eagerness to meet you.

"I won't accept that for an answer." Ali would say, making you raise a brow. "I spent my die-hard money on those gifts to make you happy. We went out together, called each other, and we texted each other every day!" Ali grabbed your shoulders, giving them a firm grip. "And you suddenly stop replying to me? You had me sick and worried. No texts back, no calls back, NOTHING! Why did I have to resort to shit like this?!"

"You stupid ass! You harassed me after I rejected you to be your girlfriend. I told you I have a boyfriend. Sorry to hurt your feelings, but that doesn't mean you have to blow up my PHONE!" you exclaimed, your frustration boiling over. Pointing your index finger at Ali, you made your feelings clear, leaving him looking at you in shock. "Somehow getting my address and sending stuff I didn't ask for? Your men following (B/N)?" The accusations hung in the air, the intensity of your words reflecting the depth of your exasperation. The two of you went back and forth, of course people around the area watched you two bicker at one another, some even recording.

"I'll say this once, leave me the fuck alone. I don't want you near me again," you stated firmly, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The weight of your words hung in the air, a final declaration of your boundaries and a stark reminder of the consequences of crossing them. Ali stood before you, his expression a mix of shock, hurt, and realization. He watched you stomp off to your car while standing there.

As much as your words hurt, Ali couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He was happy that he got to meet you face to face after weeks of being ignored and unanswered. To see you in person instead of through a photo and video made Ali excited, as if he's meeting you for the first time again like he did that faithful day.

Ali wasn't going to back down. No matter what. The man was determined to find a way to win you over, to change your mind about him.

#anime #black writers #female writers #poc writer #black reader #x black reader #fluff #baki #baki son of ogre #baki the grappler #baki hanma #yandere baki #muhammad ali jr baki #ali jr #yandere smut #yandere scenarios #jack hanma #yujiro hanma

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albertasunrise · 3 months ago

Text

Hope You Can Forgive Me - Hope

Masterlist

GIF by olisgifs

Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (So here is my first fic update since having Lando! I hope this was worth the wait and I can't wait to hear what you all think. There is some time hopping in this chapter but it's all necessary. Enjoy ♥️)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

The words hung in the air between you. Swirling around in his head as he processed that he was sitting at a table with you after all this time. That you were smiling softly at him, not growling at him in frustration because he’d gotten on your nerves for the final time.

“Tommy told me that you ended up going back to the hospital after you left that day and I-“

“You mean the day you tossed me out?” He interrupted, surprised by how he suddenly felt 10 years of anger surge to the surface.

“Joel I-“

“I don’t need your sorries.” He stated plainly and you nodded numbly “What I needed then was for you to see how badly I was doing but you couldn’t.”

He couldn’t say he blamed you really. You were facing life with a partner who was never going to walk again whilst you had to raise his toddler and the newborn baby you shared.

‘Dwelling on the past isn’t going to change it so let's just agree to move on.” He piped up after a tense pause and he could have laughed at how your shoulders dropped and you allowed yourself to relax.

You both sat in awkward silence for a while before Joel finally broke it. His question brought a proud smile to your face.

“Noah’s turned out to be a fine young man.” He stated as he took a sip of his coffee “Sarah’s besotted with him.”

“He’s just like his father.” You gushed “Patient and kind.” You continued as you looked down at the wedding band and engagement ring that you still wore “He’d never said a cross word to me till recently. Learning that he and Sarah had been inseparable as babies was tough on him.

“He pleaded with me to reach out to you but I confess… I didn’t think you’d want to speak to me after everything.”

“I never stopped caring.” Joel stated honestly “I have spent the last decade blaming myself for that crash… it should have been me that-“

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” You pleaded as you stared at him with round, tear-filled, eyes “The accident was not your fault! The truck driver is the one to blame for what happened and it was wrong of me to blame you.” You let out a long sigh before taking a large sip of coffee before continuing “I was pregnant and hormonal and facing having to care long-term for my partner as well as raise a toddler and a newborn.

“Life looked bleak and I just needed someone to blame… but I shouldn’t have blamed you.” You choked out, voice wobbling as you spoke that last statement.

Joel remained silent. Watching you as you pulled yourself together before continuing.

“I should have seen that you weren’t well, you're right.” You started again after a few tense moments of silence “After Tommy told me what happened… my mind started to replay everything and it was so obvious that something was wrong. I should have seen it… not shut you out so I could wallow in my own misery.”

“I get it… I do-“

“But it doesn’t excuse it, Joel.” You interrupted “I should have done better by you and I’m sorry.”

Joel nodded. Giving you a small smile before downing the last dregs of his coffee.

“Well… now that all the tense formalities are out of the way… shall we get another coffee and catch up properly?” He asked with a grin, instantly lifting the mood.

“That would be wonderful.”

2 months later…

Joel watched from the patio as Noah and Sarah played a heated game of swing ball, Ali watching from the sidelines as she cheered her brother on. Tommy was at the grill, having promised Joel that he could ‘cook some damn burgers’, leaving the older Miller to watch the two childhood sweethearts play. Memories of a little Noah showing an even smaller Sarah how to throw a ball flashed in his mind. They had always played so well together.

Some things never change it seemed.

Joel’s attention was torn away from Sarah and her beau and towards you, as you placed the salad and condiments in the centre of the table.

“Foods up!” Called Tommy and soon the table was filled with chatter as everyone dug in.

It felt like old times. Only, someone was missing.

Once the food was consumed and the dishes dealt with, Sarah, Ali and Noah slunk away to read their books under the tree at the bottom of Joel's garden, leaving you, Joel and Tommy to sip at your cold beers and catch up.

"How's things been with you?" Tommy asked you as he turned to face you. It was something that you had always liked about Tommy. When he was talking to you he gave you his undivided attention and never butted in when you spoke. Something that Alec and his family had always done that had driven you to distraction... But never the Miller boys. They always listened to what you had to say.

"Yeah, they're good." You nodded as you replied and placed your bottle on the table "Starting to meld well with the nice team. Making some friends too which is nice."

"Any hot men in the office catch your eye?"

Tommy's question took you by surprise and you couldn't help but glance at Joel a moment before you answered. He was looking anywhere but you and Tommy as they both awaited your answer and you felt a small pang of hope fill you. Why, you weren't sure.

"Not really looking for anything at the moment." You said, shrugging your shoulders "Been so focused on work and the kids the last few months that I haven't really thought about what comes next."

Your eyes drifted to Noah and Ali who were talking animatedly about, you assumed, something that had happened in the books they were holding. Both had ended up bookworms like their dad, something you were glad of as they had grown up. Buying them books to distract them from the reality of how sick Alec had been.

"Plus Alec hasn't been gone long. Would be wrong for me to just move on."

"You're entitled to be happy." Tommy stated plainly as he gave you that signature Miller look "He would want you to live life to the fullest. Lord knows you've earned that."

"I guess." You shrugged.

Truth be told, since coming back into the Miller's lives your feelings for Joel had started to stir again. He had turned out to be an incredible father, not that you had doubted him for a second but he had been forced to take on parenthood completely on his own when you had left. Ali's parents had died a few years after the accident leaving Joel with just Tommy for family but he had been in the army. So he had to take it all on by himself and he had flourished. Sarah was a kind, polite and caring young girl and the spitting image of her mother. Something that had made you both happy and sad. Happy, that she had turned out so beautiful, but sad because there wasn't a day that went by that you didn't miss Ali. So much so that you had named your own daughter after her.

"How about you brother?" Tommy asked, taking the attention off of you "How's things been with that chick you're dating?"

"We've been on like two dates Tommy." Joel sighed but his brother shrugged.

'Still dating her." He chuckled as he took a long pull of his beer "Given her the Miller magic yet?" Joel choked on his beer as the words settled between you and your stomach sank.

He was dating?

Of course, he was dating. He was an attractive young man, why wouldn't he? Yet this information felt like a punch to the gut. You knew you had no right to feel this way about Joel seeing someone yet it was a fight to keep the tears at bay. You would later realise as you analysed your feelings over a large glass of wine at home that a small part of you had always held onto the hope that one day, you and Joel may have had your chance.

That after all these years, he would realise how you felt and would return those feelings. You would later realise that that was a fool's hope.

You had broken things beyond repair with Joel all those years ago.

There was no hope for the two of you now. There was no way he felt the same way about you.

Oh if only you knew.

You had found yourself quickly falling into old traditions with the Millers. Regular gatherings at Joels where food and laughter are shared only this time Noah and Sarah weren't babies anymore. You found yourself missing their antics. Howthey used to hide behind the wooden castle climbing frame that Joel had built Sarah before she'd even made her entrance to the world. They would crouch behind it and giggle, thinking no one knew they were there and you would all chuckle at them and how perfect together they were. Even from such a young age.

You had found yourself wondering if Joel had ever thought about having more kids. He was still young after all, having had Sarah in his early twenties same as you had had Ali so young yourself. You had definitely thought that there would have been more children in your future but Alec's health hadn't allowed for that and so that dream of another baby had died along with him.

When Sandy had stepped into the fold, you had had your question of whether Joel wanted more kids answered from the moment she'd opened her mouth at the annual pre-Christmas get-together. She was young, late twenties and perky. Both physically and personality-wise.

She had sat there for hours talking about how she had no interest in having kids. That she liked them but that it had never appealed to her personally. You had asked Joel if he had thought about having any more to which he'd replied "Nah, one and done for me."

It had shocked you how blasé he had been about the subject and it had stung you. Why, you weren't sure but you supposed its because you had secretly hoped you'd have one with him one day.

Now though, that pipedream seemed an impossibility that Sandy was in the picture. You hated her for it...

You knew you had no reason to. She was sweet. There didn't appear to be a bad bone in her body but she grated on your nerves with her big eyes and sickly sweet smiles.

Your feelings for Joel may have had some bearing on your opinion of her you supposed.

Those pesky feelings had only continued to grow the more time you spent with Joel. You and he would alternate some nights during the week for dinners or movie nights. Ali and Sarah had become fast friends, something you had worried would irritate Noah now that his relationship with Sarah seemed to have developed a third wheel but on the contrary, he seemed to welcome her.

They still managed to find time to spend together without his sister hanging around but he didn't begrudge her presence when she was there. He'd always been a great big brother to her.

But now it seemed that you had become the third wheel in Joel's relationship with Sandy. These once peaceful evenings had been overtaken by her loud personality but Joel seemed to lap it up, completely oblivious to how you were starting to pull away. Unable to watch them be so sickeningly happy.

It all came to a head three months later. Unable to keep up the fake smiles any longer.

"So, I found a new taco recipe I want to try for Taco Tuesday this week." Joel stated as he dried the last dish and placed it on the drying rack beside the sink "Churizo with fried potatoes, avocados, onions and Cilantro... Read it in a magazine this week and I knew I had to try it."

"Sounds good." You answered numbly as you picked up the last few dried plates and cutlery to put away "I'm sure the kids will love it."

"You okay?" Joel asked upon sensing your tone.

"Mhmm." You knew your reply wasn't fooling anyone.

"Okay, what's up?" He asked, letting out a sigh as he turned his whole body to face you, rested his hip against the counter and crossed his arms, accentuating his strong arms and broad shoulders.

"Nothing it's just... I won't be able to make Taco Tuesday this week. Or movie night on Thursday." You replied, not looking at him as you spoke.

"Okay, I'll save that recipe for next week then."

"I can't go next week either." You replied bluntly and his brows furrowed as he looked across at you.

"Why not?"

"I'm going to be busy the next few weeks is all."

"Few weeks?" He questioned and you simply nodded.

"Yeah."

"Care to look at me whilst you lie to me?" He growled and you let out a long sigh before returning his gaze.

"I'm not lying to you, Joel." You growled "I have a lot going on with work so I won't be able to make our usual arrangements for a month or so.

"But the kids-"

"Can do all that shit without me." You replied, more snappy than you'd meant to.

"That shit?" Joel pushed, his tone sounding a little wounded "Is something going on? Did I do something?"

"No." You replied as you sighed loudly "You haven't done anything wrong."

It wasn't exactly a lie. His dating Sandy wasn't wrong. It just hurt you to watch.

Joel didn't push but he knew you weren't being honest with him. You had always been easy to read, wearing your heart on your sleeve for the world to see but he didn't understand why you were suddenly going cold on him. Things had fallen back into place so easily. He thought things were good. He didn't push it any further.

"You're still coming to the cook out week after next though right?" He asked and your heart broke at how hopeful he seemed.

"Yeah, I'll be there." You lied, hoping he would believe you and would drop it.

He seemed to buy it because his shoulders relaxed and he gave you a small smile. You smiled back but your stomach twisted painfully. You had two weeks to come up with a decent lie for why you couldn't make it. You knew it had to be believable or Joel would be around yours banging on your door and you knew you'd not be able to lie to him if that were to happen.

You left with Noah that evening barely gracing Joel or Sarah with a goodbye and it was from that that he knew something serious was up. Just didn't know how to find out.

...

Sandy had arrived a little after you had left. Cuddling on the couch, she instantly picked up on Joel's distracted state and didn't wait to question him on it. So he told her about how weird you had been that evening. How you'd suddenly become cold and closed off.

"I don't know what I've done." Joel sighed "She was just so off this evening and then she's suddenly telling me that she's going to be busy for the foreseeable and I just... I don't get it."

"Oh Joel, baby, you're such a typical bloke." Sandy chuckled sympathetically as she turned her top half to look at him "She's obviously got feelings for you."

"She doesn't have feelings for me." Joel scoffed "Don't be absurd."

"Why else would she suddenly stop hanging out with her friend the moment he meets someone?"

"I-"

"I've had my suspicions for a while but the last few times we've hung out it's been pretty clear that she's got feelings for you Joel."

"But she..."

"Would you like it if you had a crush on someone and their new beau was there all the time?" She asked and Joel sighed "I am happy to back off a little if you want to spend more time with her but I don't think she'll want to."

"She can't have feelings for me." He muttered and Sandy chuckled as she watched his mind whir.

"Perhaps you should go see her and find out." Sandy shrugged, smiling sweetly at Joel as he looked up at her "Give her some closure."

Joel parked across from your house before wiping his clammy hands on his jeans and willing his heart to slow. It had been a few days since that conversation with Sandy and what she'd told him played on repeat in his head. Did you really have feelings for him? He had never dared hope that maybe one day you would feel the same way he did.

He had been practising what he wanted to ask you all evening. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do if it transpired that you did feel the same. He supposed he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Tommy had agreed to watch Sarah for the evening so that he could come to speak to you. He wasn't sure how this was going to go but he had wanted the option to stay a little later if things went the way he hoped they might.

Finally, as he had willed his heart to slow, your door swung open and grabbed his attention. He watched as you stepped outside slightly, looking at someone who was out of Joel's eyeline. You were smiling at them as you spoke, words that he could not hear from the cab of his car but you seemed to smile shyly at whoever you spoke them to. He hoped that youwouldn't notice his truck parked across the street as he watched you from the shadows. His stomach twisted when a man he didn't recognise stepped into view and leaned closer so he could place a kiss on your lips.

A myriad of emotions flooded him at once. He felt a pang of despair fill him as he watched you say your farewells for this man, but it quickly morphed into anger as he watched the man get in his car and drive off.

You hadn't bailed on him because you have feelings for him. You bailed because you wanted to focus on your new boy toy. You'd rather spend time with someone you barely know over him and his family. You had other priorities now.

And Joel wasn't one of them.

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