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arsonlookers · 1 year ago

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Love me like there's no tomorrow

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Genshin men x reader Agnst

A/n: this is my first fanfic, you can also think of other characters other than Genshin men to your liking. this fanfic is just for me and my thoughts renting in my head. anyways, have a great day!

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He looked at you and then back to the paper he was holding.

even without knowing what was stated in the paper, with just his sad and distressed eyes straight at you. you concluded everything...

He moved closer to your bed and sat down, inching closer and embracing you closer to his warmed body

"I love you.., you know that right?" He said Kissing your palm, looking at you with those reassuring eyes of his

you smiled knowing too well what was going on "I know"

he hugged you tight as if you would disappear within his grasp, you shared the same feelings he bore.

You hugged him tight as silence overtook the two of you.

no words could explain nor express these feelings of sadness and unexplained pain on what the future holds for both of us. No words, not sorry, no promises just silence...

as he embraced you tight in his arms, you made a similar gesture to assure him that 'It was okay', ' I am ok ' 'I know and I'm ready '

You closed your eyes to everything that had happened in your life, and memories of us started to flash in your eyes.

He suddenly pushed you and excused himself from the room trying his best to hide his face

As you saw him exit the room, you smiled bitterly at the pain, regret, and sadness. you thought you were ready but proven wrong when tears shed from your eyes and how much you tried to wipe dry tear after tear from your cheeks. 'I am not ready yet ', you thought deeply about what will happen if ever-...

your thoughts were stopped midway when you heard cries outside your room It sounded painful it went on and on until you could only hear whimpers and sobbing from the other side, and everything went silent.

"he must have been so stressed because of me huh...I'm sorry..." you mutter silently as tears slip from your cheeks

you stared at the window blankly and something caught your attention

'It's already evening and it is raining outside' you thought 'I didn't even notice'

you slowly got up from your position and walked closer to the window. you opened it wide and put your right hand on the outside of the pouring rain.

Raindrops fall from your hand. It feels cold and soothing like it's not something you should shield yourself from, it's kind, and very inviting.

As you stare blankly at your hands, drenched. An idea popped into your head.

you closed the window and started to walk to the opposite side of the room, you gently opened the door and peeked outside, checking if someone was outside or if he was outside your room, and to your luck, no one was outside.

You executed your plan, you started to go on an adventure down the hospital halls avoiding nurses as much as possible, and in search of the exit door and bask in the downpour of gentle rain.

After some time you reached the exit door and before you could open the door

A hand suddenly grabbed your shoulder- you turned behind as fast as you could, His lovely hair color was the first you could see in your peripheral view.

"where are you going?" you can see his concern and distress in his slightly red and puff eyes, in his voice, and in his touch.

..Fear. you can see it deep in his eyes as you stare at it.

his grip on your wrist is firmed

he asked again "Y/n where are you going" This time its not a question

As you looked into his eyes again you stared at him and did not answer his question, the only sound occupying the silence was the sound of the gentle rain, the ringing of telephones, and the talking of some nurses in the corner, echoing through the halls.

"..." You opened your mouth as you constructed your words in your mind and closed it after as nothing came into your mind You feel blank... you stared at the ground not looking at his concerned eyes anymore ..as if ... giving up on everything...

'I don't want to be a burden to him anymore' you thought

He senses something is not right so he looks around, he looks straight head on the window door and takes notice of the y/n's drenched right hands.

he moved his left hand and opened the exit door in front of us

you looked at him with curious eyes as if he had done something ridiculous

He walked out first from the other side of the door, and then he pulled you to his side.

he looked at you and put a relaxed and reassuring smile on his lips

"What?" he said

you smiled. knowing what his actions meant, both of you had been together for so long, knowing that smile and look that says 'I know, it's OK, or you are free to do what you want'

You faced him sweetly, chuckled, and started to walk in the gentle rain, slowly drenching yourself in and he looked at you preciously and joined you in the rain,

You hold his hands and he holds yours. tight. We walked towards the center, drenching our clothes more and more, not caring.

as if both of you were the only people left in the world

We laughed like there was no tomorrow, and we danced joyfully you jumped and jumped, and he joined you, in your shenanigans.

you held his hand and looked at him smiling blissfully, you looked at his features from his hair to his eyes and down to his nose and down to his lips, he was smiling like a little child.

He looks at you, full of love in his eyes you can see it, feel it deep inside your heart, and body. The warmth that surges your body the more you look at him you fall in love again and again, like it's the first time. And you Love everything about it...About HIM.

It was a slow dance as he put his hands on your waist, you looked at him and put both your hands on his shoulders,

we were so close to each other bodies and we didn't care if someone could see us from the inside.

You like how you could hear his heartbeat, feel his warm body close to yours as you embraced him, and how he could feel your heartbeat and the heat of both your bodies providing warmth in the cold rain.

you both swayed your bodies close to each other as if there were music in the background. We just danced and swayed our bodies in whatever fits.

it was so peaceful as you looked into his eyes you wished it would stay like this forever, dancing in the rain enjoying together embraces.

he whispered close in your ear "I love you, I love so so much" he kissed you on your lips and looked at you and only you

You love whenever he confesses his love to you, he makes you feel that he is only thinking about you as he stares at you with those lovely eyes of his.

and you love it

You love how he makes you feel Loved

every year, every month, every day, every hour, every minute, and every second of your Life.

like time slowed down for us or time completely stopped.

The only thing you could feel was his warm embrace, his love, his loving smile, and his loving whispers of 'I love you'. You can only see him and on his every move, you can only think of him. He is occupying both your mind and heart at this very moment and promise yourself that you will forever treasure and remember this moment for the rest of your life without regret.

But of course, everything must come to an end.

A nurse suddenly comes and interrupts our time together.

On your way to your room after being talked out by the nurse a sudden eruption of giggles came from you and was followed by his

It was the first time something happened like that and the first time a nurse was nagging at both of you and it was refreshing. for the first time in a while, something was different and it was not anything unpleasant, to say the least.

after reaching the room You changed your clothes, and so did he and suddenly He hugged you from behind and just swayed right and left slowly at the rhythm of his beating heart

after a while he hugged you and led you to the bed, humming your favorite song, and just embraced you under the warm covers

The sound of the rain hitting the window and his heartbeat is lulling you to relax and start to drift you off to sleep

'it's warm' you thought before drifting to unconsciousness.

The next day

he surprised you with your favorite flowers and snacks, and he stayed with you until it darks outside you played games, and watched movies while cuddling each other.

as both of you watch the last film for the night

"thank you... and love you" you mutter under your breath

he looked at you, he held you in his arms firmly and rested his head on your shoulder.

"love you too"

after that day and the next day and next

He kept surprising you each and every day

Different surprises and experiences, each and every day from picnics to a trip to the beach, romantic dates, meeting his family or your family, hanging out with your friends, and doing your hobby together.

You know you are getting weak day by day, and proof of that is always being visited by the nurses and doctors. So weak that you can't nearly walk on your own. you're getting thinner and sometimes worst cases vomits blood. It's okay he is always been there to cheer you on

but even you know he is also suffering with you, every time a doctor visits your room, hearing this painful news every time and after he will exit the room in an excuse of going to the restroom. knowing very well how painful it must have been to hear your lover's condition getting worse and worse.

every night his cries of I love you, his promises, and prayers desperate silent tears after tears by your bedside thinking you have fallen asleep.

In reality, he is also enduring the pain of reality that in the future you might.... not be by his side anymore... the thought of losing you causes him to break.

You feel guilty every time you hear his desperate cries.

days passed by, it was painfully slow but fast at the same time as days were spent by his side and loved once. And in the blink of an eye, you realize it's your anniversary, the day he first met you, and on the same date, you became you confessed to him and became official. a very special day indeed. one of the precious memories together with him and you will cherish it forever.

You wake up like normal, the sun is starting to rise from your window, and you can hear birds chirping and the sound of cars passing by, it feels peacefully warm, not cold, nor do you feel anything painful when you rise from the bed. when you were about to reach the glass from the bedside table you noticed a box and a letter beside it.

reaching for the box and opening the letter, it was written by a very familiar penmanship

Morning dear, and HAPPY ANNIVERSARY love, how are you feeling? don't forget to drink water ok? And after you eat don't forget to drink your medicine. so you might be wondering what's inside this box and if you have opened it, I hope you like it.

you opened the box and inside was a necklace and a very familiar one at that.

Love, you might be wondering why it looks familiar because this necklace is the one you commissioned last year for our Christmas but because of some computer problem the store shipped our order to the wrong place and they just refunded us a different necklace because 'they are too busy' they say.

you can clearly imagine him rolling his eyes from saying 'too busy' even though it was a total fail for a Christmas matching gift. As you look closely you realize that the other half of the necklace is missing.

"he must be wearing the other," you thought

so you took the necklace and looked at it closely, it was a lovely necklace.

you start to lock the necklace around your neck and as you look at the mirror it fits you perfectly.

your day passes uniquely, every nurse who visits your room gives you your [favorite flowers ], and special people who have been with you for your whole life visit and spend time with you. But on this special day, you just wanted to spend this very very special day with him, but you still didn't see any sign or strand of hair of your beloved husband.

you were spending the day with other people and they were taking you to every place you cherished. someone blindfolded you and took you on a long ride, you don't know what the last destination you are going but this time you hope they will take you to him.

Someone with warm hands takes the blindfold off.

There he presents himself with a lovely smile on his face.

You look around as you realize where you are right now.

Moments of that night... The night you fall in love and fall deeper as time goes on

Just like the first time you met and the day you confessed, he looked stunning as ever. Lights that illuminate that charming smile that catches your attention and breath every time.

it never fails to make your heart beat faster. Beating inside your drumming heart. Badum.

Dum-BAdum -BADUM-dum- BAdum-- Badum-DUM-BADUM-DUM-DUM - BADUM-BADUM--bAD-DUM...BADUM-BADUMBADUM

and you meant faster,

and

FaSter

and

FASTER

like it's going to burst out of its confined cage.

You grip your shirt on where your heart is placed

your vision starts to blur and your body feels heavy and unstable, your hearing is not doing any good.

You realize at this moment that time and fate are never kind.

"Y/n?!!" catching your weak body

as both of you fall on the ground

You can hear the panic in his voice, and tears fall onto your face you don't know what's going on when before you just felt fine, you didn't feel sick or nauseous or something... But...

A small smile made into your pale face and you weakly reach to his handsome face.

'If I would die today... in his arms ... Oh... His warm arms... I really love his warm embrace... I love how he touches me...love the way he smiles.. '

'don't cry...smile, love" he looks at me shocked

"shhh, y./n ....do.nt....staystrong ....love" Everything is muffled

tears keep falling from his eyes but even though tears keep falling. He still looks angelic, The man I fell in love with again and again, His other half, and I am proud to be his Wife.

To say to the world that he is mine.

"I...Love... you..'

Forever and ever...

Until darkness is the only thing you can see...

notes: some of the characters that you are thinking might not fit their character in this fanfic may be too Ooc for you. And as for the sickness if you are wondering for the sake of the plot let's just say it is something uncurable .hehe. and you can always imagine other men outside Genshin if ever you don't know them:)

thank u very much for your time reading this fanfic;)

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linkemon · 2 years ago

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Voice line headcanons 3

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Aether and Paimon are looking for [Reader] because of a job found on a city board. It's a potential, well-paying occasion. If they manage to find an employer who forgot to write where you can meet them at all...

Mika Schmidt

✧Looking for Captain [Reader]? Ah... Uh... Maybe, maybe you'll ask someone else. No, I'm not afraid of you, Paimon. We've known each other for quite some time, so I'm not nervous, it's just... the thing about the captain is... No, they're not scary. Captain Kaeya, what are you laughing at?

✧ Captain [Reader] is a really special person. They taught me many things even though they are not much older than me. They help me on expeditions. They are very nice, very smart and very pretty. Erm... I'm sure you two will work well together.

✧ Captain Kaeya really told you that? Ah... It's not like that! I'm not jealous of them. We're not together, so of course I couldn't be. It doesn't mean that I wouldn't want to be their lover... Um, this is getting more and more confusing. You know what, why don't I just go back to work and you two go visit them? It's the door at the end of the upstairs corridor.

Dori Sangemah Bay

✧ Interesting your searches. Of course, the generous Dori will help her dear customers with all the problems. But to help customers, you have to deal with them and you haven't bought anything yet. Move, move! Check out what wonderful goods I have with me today...

✧ Mora is a wonderfully universal language, don't you think? Wherever you are, Dori is always happy to hear the clink of money and understand you. Back to your question, [Reader] is the steward of my palace. As an exception, I can invite you for tea and introduce you. Of course I have a vested interest in this, Paimon. I wouldn't do it for free...

✧ [Reader] is a very good worker. They're great at keeping secrets, and they can bargain. I don't like it when it comes to the paycheck but if you need to pick up a shipment of new items for sale, they're irreplaceable.

Faruzan

✧ You're looking for a really good Academy student. Unlike you, they know they should call me madame. What about you? It's a complete lack of education. The fact that we know each other has nothing to do with it. I deserve respect. After all, I'm older than you.

✧ [Reader] is a really special student of Kshahrewar. They have a chance to surpass Kaveh in his achievements. The room you are standing in now is their work. A delightful use of technology, isn't it? Their darshan will yet rise from their knees with their help. I'm sure of it. Soon you will be able to see their inventions beyond Sumer as well.

✧ These flowers? They are from them. What are you looking at, Paimon? It's obvious my lover is a well-mannered person! How come you don't believe we're a couple?!

Collei

✧ If you're looking for them, you're lucky! I was about to visit them because I hadn't seen them since I came to Mondstadt. We know each other from the time when I came to this city for the first time.

✧ They helped me a lot when I was going through hard times. When I went to Sumeru, they wrote me letters all the time. They told me everything that happened here. They're really great at lifting people's spirits. Anyway, you'll see for yourself.

✧ There they are! Let's go say hi. I will introduce you myself. They will be impressed for sure. You say, Paimon, that you haven't seen me so happy in a long time? Haha, maybe there's something to it. But you get it, meeting up with old friends is always exciting! Let's eat pita together, which I made especially for this occasion!

Bennett

✧ I'd really like to take you to her but with my bad luck, it might not be the best idea ever. It doesn't bother you? That's very kind of you but I'm talking about [Reader]. The last time they wanted to help me collect plants for a job, they were attacked by monsters. They made it out reasonably healthy but on the way home I bumped into them and broke their ankle. I wanted to carry them to town but on the way back I slipped and injured their leg even more. That's why I think it's better if I don't see them for a while. For theirsafety.

✧ Comission to carry heavy parcels? It makes sense. After all, now that they can't lift them and the flower shop certainly needs someone to take care of it. What a shame they have to suffer like this because of me... Hey, where are we going? I already told you it was a bad idea! I don't want to bring bad luck to them. They will be happy? I'm sure they'll be happy, but... All right, I'm going, Paimon!

#genshin impact x reader #bennet x reader #mika x reader #mika schmidt #faruzan x reader #collei x reader #dori x reader #dori sangemah bay #bennet #faruzan #voice lines #headcanons #over teyvat

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machisoon · 1 year ago

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Hello! I really like your writing, and I was wondering if you could perhaps write Bennett and Older Brother Reader? (platonic ofc, I'm not into incest)

The reader lives in Inazuma and decides to surprise Benny by visiting him during the Windblume festival!

-Aspheera

(AA... This scenario is so cute, I love writing platonic things!! Also sorry for taking this request extremely late! And sorry if any lore based things are wrong I haven't been on genshin in a while (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)..)

Pairing: Bennet X OlderBrother!Reader

CW: Nothing Bad Just Fluff, Platonic!

Synopsis: Recently You Heard News Of The Windblume Festival Going On And Desperately Wanted To See Your Brother Bennet! You Ultimately Decided To Surprise Him. (Beidou Is In This Because Obviously You Need A Way To Get Out Of Inazuma lol.)

This time you had too, you've been aching to see your brother Bennet. It's been a while, the complications mostly come from you guys living really far. You live in Inazuma as Bennet lives in Mondstadt, this makes you guys very separate and it makes it even worse knowing Inazuma is surrounded by nothing but the sea and it's just as hard to leave. Hearing news of Mondstadt's one of a kind: Windblume Festival you decided it was just the right time to go see your brother. You've been planning how to get out of Inazuma for a while but when you recently met "Captain Beidou." She recently offered to help sail you out of Inazuma and get to Mondstadt.

So here you were fixing your hair getting yourself ready, You had to sneak to a more sandy and secluded part where her boat would be parked, everything has been planned out as you were gleaming with joy, imagining Bennet turning around to the sound of you yelling "Hey Benny!" To him. And just as excited to step in the Nation Of Freedom. As you place your wooden brush neatly onto the shelf you run to your door swooping up your shoes fastening them tightly.

You take one final breath, storming out your house and to the place you and Beidou arranged. There was her big wooden boat with the nice flags for safe sailing. You've never actually been on a boat before so I guess it was more of a challenge to test if you had sea sickness.

"Beidou you up there?" You yell out. Suddenly she perks up staring down at you. She gives a soft smile. "Just on time I see, someone's quite excited." She says. She leans down on the wooden edge of the boat. One of her crew members throws down a ladder for you to easily climb. You make your way to a ladder climbing up onto her boat. You notice all the boxes lying around, and all her crew members eyeing you. "Welcome aboard, Y/N." Beidou says, giving your shoulder a pat. "So will there be complications getting out of Inazuma..?" You say. Beidou looks at you letting out a hesitant sigh. "It's more of a maybe. Sometimes these waters can be really aggressive. Especially with lighting. So I suggest you be careful." She responds. You nod your head, you never really went head on with the seas of Inazuma or the lighting but if those extreme measures were needed to see your brother you'd take them.

Your eyes shift open, you ended up knocking out on the boat. It was a very long exhausting ride. Beidou walks in motioning you to come out. You walk out and the bright sun hits your face along with this weirdly calming breeze.. You were here.. You took a moment to really take in your surroundings. You've been to Mondstadt before, it's where you were born before moving to Inazuma. But there was something so calming about the land that made it all the more better. "Y/N are you good from here or do you want us to get you to the town?" Beidou says, her eyebrows raising a bit along with her eye patch. "I'm good, I won't get lost." You say. You've already prepared a map. Beidou smiles and you wave bye to her and climb back down the wooden ladder stepping onto Mondstadt's land. Now the only task was just to get there..

When you saw them tall buildings and the nice stone bridge you knew exactly where you were. You also noticed how nicely decorated Mondstadt was even from a far view. But inside just made your jaw drop. Mondstadt was beautifully decorated head to toe with Blue accents and flowers extending across some of the buildings. You didn't know how it was possible but The Nation Of Freedom definitely knew how to make it feel like "Freedom." You noticed a bunch of people walking around talking to relatives and giving gifts to them as a sign of love and admiration.

Your eyes dart around for any sign of Bennet. And your eyes widen. There he was. He was on a balcony of some sorts seemingly just chilling there, but oh you can imagine what his face will contort into once he sees you. You decide your best bet is to not scare him but to sneak up behind him and say the nickname you gave him. You sneak your way to the staircase making it up the balcony, right behind him.

"Hey Benny!!~~" You say in a sly tone.

The familiarity in your voice elicits Bennet's head to whip around to look behind him. He lets out a short gasp taking in your presence. Before he takes everything in him to run into your arms. You swing him around happily. "I've missed you so much!!" Bennet says in pure happiness. "I've missed you too! I thought that maybe I could try to spend the Windblume Festival with my best brother ever!" You say back. Bennet finally decided to release you from his hug and he looks up at you. "How did you even get out of Inazuma?" He says. "A good friend of mine helped me... And uhh.. What is Windblume Festival about exactly?" You asked.

You were quite embarrassed by this question you asked. You completely forgot about what Windblume Festival is all about.. But Bennet smiles happily and clears his throat. "Well in my Terms it's a festival celebrating Mondstadt's Freedom. And it's about giving gifts to your loved ones and basically looking for love, oh! And to also offer Windblume's to Barbatos! It's just really a festival to spend time with the ones you love." Bennet says happily. "And now we can spend it together!" You respond. Just the thought of you spending such a festival with your Benny was enough to keep you on the edge.

Hours and hours went by of you and Bennet running around exploring all the nice things to do during the Windblume Festival. One thing you did was go to SpringVale to put the wreaths on the Foxes head. But when the sun started going down you and Bennet found yourselves chilling on the edge of Mondstadt's bridge.

Bennet randomly sniffles. You touch his shoulder quite confused till he hugs you tightly with tears running down his cheeks. "I'd never thought I'd see you again.. thanks bro.." He says. You couldn't help but smile and sigh before ruffling his hair. You playfully nudge his forehead causing him to laugh. You both stare at each other before both pulling something out of your pocket and saying in usion.

"I got this for you."

You both widened your eyes. In both of your hands was a heart necklace that interlocked. A souvenir you secretly bought for each other but wasn't expecting for both to buy the other half. "Wow.. Guess great minds think alike?" You say with a short giggle following. You and Bennet both put the necklaces on each other. "I can't believe we almost got the same gift." He says with a slight amused smile. "Hey... You're my other half anyways." You nudge Bennet and he rests his head on your shoulder as you guys watch the sunset.

"Do you have to back to Inazuma...?"

"No Benny, your big bro will stay here for as long as you like."

Silence filled the air until a short click was heard.

The heart necklaces interlocked.

#(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) machi #genshin impact #bennet #bennet x reader #platonic #writers on tumblr #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fluff #fluff #older brother core #x reader #windblume festival #monstadt #inazuma

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currebunz · 2 years ago

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Bennet Flirting Headcannon

-He is trying his best honestly, his flirting is just his normal praise but somehow cuter.

-He definitely consoled Kaeya about flirting or bought a book prior. He practiced in a mirror but he still feels nervous about saying anything a little too intimate or flirty.

-He stays toward complimenting your "adventure gear" and your "adventurer instincts". Which his way of complimenting your appearance and smarts. If he focuses too much on how you look he might say something weird.

-There is no suaveness in his flirting, he maintains his good natured self but his cheeks are red. If you notice then he will probably say he is just suffering in the heat from the sun.

-He will sometimes get bold enough to fix your clothes or hair, but it takes up all the courage he built up for the day. Like him just moving some stray hair out of the way has him shaking. He writes it down in his adventurer's journal.

-When you go on an adventure with him, he tries to show off a bit in front of you. It never goes well and Bennet dreams about the day he appears as a hero for you.

-Alternatively, he learns his best aspect is coming to you for medical aid. He manages to compliment that he trusts you the most or he thinks you are the best around. He only wants you to put bandages on him and scold him.

-It somehow works, which Kaeya teases him about.

#genshin impact #reader insert #genshin imagines #x reader #reader-insert #genshin impact bennett #bennet x reader #genshin bennett

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terriblesoup · 2 months ago

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Where the light lingers

A/N: k so ik that I said it would be a long fic but I think this is a perfect length for it, more and it would be dragging.

Pride and prejudice au, sfw, soft.

yall are gonna like because I like it and I'm picky as hell.

The first time Sylus met her, he was convinced she would be the end of his patience.

It was an evening drenched in golden light, the kind that softened the rigid lines of the world and made even the sharpest truths seem momentarily gentle. He had no use for such illusions. The estate’s gardens were lively with chatter, an unbearable buzz of pleasantries exchanged like currency, though he had long since ceased to care for society’s games.

And yet, there she was.

She stood apart from the usual crowd, not in the way one might expect. There was no air of careful distinction about her, no deliberate effort to outshine or impress. She was simply... at ease. Engaged in conversation with someone who hardly seemed worth her attention, yet she listened as though every word mattered. Her laughter, unrestrained and genuine, cut through the tedious politeness of the gathering, drawing attention despite itself.

Sylus was annoyed before he even understood why.

It wasn’t until they were formally introduced that he felt the first tug of something unexpected. Her gaze met his without hesitation, without expectation. There was no deference, no quiet acquiescence to his presence. If anything, she seemed... unimpressed.

He had long since grown used to admiration, to the weight of assumptions placed upon his shoulders before he even spoke a word. But she, with her measured look and easy smile, seemed perfectly content to view him as nothing more than a man she had just met.

Sylus disliked it immensely.

And yet, he found himself watching her more than he meant to.

The weeks passed, and by some wretched twist of fate, their paths continued to cross.

She had a way of drawing attention without meaning to. Not through grand gestures or loud proclamations, but simply by existing in a manner that defied expectation. She was clever, but not cruel; sharp, but never unkind. And, to his dismay, entirely immune to his carefully maintained distance.

They clashed more often than they spoke in civility. Not because she sought to argue, but because she questioned things others would never dare to. Where others nodded along to his statements, she countered. Where others shied away from his sharp words, she met them head-on.

Sylus told himself it was infuriating.

He refused to acknowledge the truth of it, that he was beginning to anticipate their meetings more than he should.

There was an evening when the air turned cold too soon, when the fire in the drawing room flickered low and restless. He found himself seated near her, not by choice but by circumstance. He told himself he would ignore her, that her presence would mean no more than any other person in the room.

And yet, she spoke to him.

“The sky is stubborn tonight.”

He glanced at her, drawn from his thoughts. “How so?”

She nodded toward the windows, where the last remnants of light clung desperately to the horizon. “It refuses to give in to the night. Look at it, it lingers, holding onto something it can’t possibly keep.”

Sylus studied her for a long moment. “Perhaps it knows the night is inevitable, but fights for what little remains.”

She turned to him then, something unreadable in her gaze. “Or perhaps it is simply afraid of the dark.”

A silence stretched between them, heavier than it should have been. He had spent years perfecting the art of conversation, of measured responses and effortless dismissals. But she was not the kind of person who allowed words to be meaningless.

For the first time in a long while, Sylus did not know what to say.

He did not want to care. He reminded himself of this fact often, as though repetition might turn it into truth.

But care he did. Against his better judgment, against every ounce of logic, he found himself watching her more often. Noticing things he had no business noticing; the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear when she was thinking, the quiet way she hummed when she believed no one could hear.

And worst of all, the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

He had spent so long believing himself above such things. Love, sentiment, attachment, these were burdens he had been raised to avoid. They clouded judgment, made men reckless.

He told himself he was not reckless.

He told himself he did not want her.

It was a lie he could not hold onto forever.

The moment everything shifted was not grand or dramatic. It was not the result of some catastrophe or revelation. It was simply an afternoon like any other.

She had been speaking with someone else, entirely unaware of his presence. The sun was bright, casting patterns of light and shadow across the garden. And then she laughed...

And Sylus knew.

It was not a sudden realization, not some poetic awakening. It was quiet, steady, something he should have known all along.

She had already unraveled him, thread by careful thread. He had been a fool to think otherwise.

But knowing was not enough.

There were still barriers between them, some spoken, others merely understood. She was proud, and so was he. But her pride was of a different kind, it was not arrogance, but certainty. The knowledge that she deserved more than what he had been willing to offer.

And so, he would have to be better.

He did not know if he was capable of such change. He did not know if she would ever see him as something worthy of her regard.

But for the first time in his life, Sylus was willing to try.

The courtship was unspoken, a quiet thing woven into the fabric of their days. He lingered in places he never would have before, listening when he would have once dismissed. She softened toward him without meaning to, the space between them closing in increments too small to measure.

Then, one evening, as she stood in the soft glow of candlelight, he found the courage to ask: "Would you ever consider loving me?"

She did not answer right away. Instead, she studied him, as though weighing something far greater than the question itself. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I already do."

Sylus, for all his certainty in the world, found himself entirely undone. And as she reached for his hand, fingers threading through his as though they had always belonged there, he thought, perhaps, for once, he did not mind being undone at all.

Their courtship in the days that followed was tender, filled with hesitant steps forward and secret joys too fragile to share. She turned toward him a second too late after he'd already looked away. He memorized the cadence of her laughter when she forgot herself. They spoke in half-sentences, unfinished thoughts that the other somehow understood.

They walked in the gardens, always keeping a respectable distance, yet every shift of the breeze felt like an excuse for their fingers to nearly touch. He found reasons to hand her books, each exchange lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary. She sought him out in quiet moments, in drawing rooms and moonlit corridors, speaking of nothing and everything.

At times, neither dared to meet the other’s gaze for too long, afraid of the truths it might reveal. But when she caught him watching her, and when he did not look away, the world felt smaller, as though it had been shaped just for them.

The anticipation of what lay ahead, the promise of a future bound together was more intoxicating than either had imagined. And yet, beyond the formality of proposals and promises, there was the quiet excitement of simply knowing. That soon, she would no longer have to glance over her shoulder to see if he was there. That soon, he would have no reason to resist reaching for her hand. That soon, they would belong to one another, with nothing left between them but love.

Dividers by @adornedwithlight

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 10 months ago

Text

Postcards

Summary: Tom Bennett is sweet on the Post Office girl, but only dares to approach it just as he's conscripted for war | Word Count: 7.2k~ (oops) | Warnings: ww2, mentions of death, smut, fingering

A/N: A very VERY Happy Birthday to @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 I hope you enjoy this and have a lovely day! ❤ And thank you so much to @theoneeyedprince for skimming over this 😘

“Get ‘im a cuppa, would ya darlin’!”

Her grandfather’s low baritone seemed to rumble through the floorboards so much so it made her eardrums throb, and she shook her head as she descended the creaky staircase at the back of the store room, running a hand over the collar of her dress to keep it flat.

“Yes, Granda,” she sighed, filling the kettle and placing it on the lit stove. Gone were the days when she was young, afraid of the tiny flame that appeared when her grandfather struck a match to light the gas. He’d always laugh at her concerned expression, chuckling that no grandchild of his was going to be such a ‘scaredy-cat’.

He’d had her lighting matches on the stovetop since she was eleven years old. No exceptions.

A harsh but fair upbringing, given that she was his only grandchild.

She brushed a wavy lock of hair from her face, her pumps clicking on the floorboards as she let the water boil and joined him at the front of the post office. She rolled her eyes when she saw him struggling with the sack of post, grunting and grumbling to himself as elderly men often do.

“Get off, granda, let me.”

“Cheeky beggar! Can do it on me own, ya pesky-”

“Granda.”

He finally turned, perhaps recognising the same tone he’d heard in his wife and daughter in years gone, and knew not to argue. She saw that when her grandfather, turned while bent over and withered with his years, with a smattering of white on his chin and waved sparsely on the crown of his head, had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, the end almost chewed right through with the effort he’d used in trying to lift what he easily could have several years ago.

He raised an eyebrow, bringing the cigarette from his age-weathered lips and blowing the smoke out, “Go on then. Tea on?”

“Course, it is,” she sighed, bending to pull the sack of post from the floor and into the corner to be sorted later. “I’ll do that later, you go upstairs”.

“Bollocks, will I. I’m staying ‘ere.”

Her grandfather was stubborn, though it was something they accused each other of being regularly. A family trait, some would say.

The postman, clad in his dark uniform trudged through the front door, ringing the bell with it. His satchel was empty and his cheeks were pink like the wind had been at them.

“The usual route please, darlin’”.

She nodded. “Cuppa first?”

“Yes, ta, milk, one sugar-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she smirked, “same as every day.”

As the postman settled into the familiar chair, reserved for him if anyone asked, her grandfather gave a low grumble, shifting his weight with the slow deliberation of age. He looked over at his granddaughter, the same stubborn glint in his eye that she mirrored back at him.

"You're not still jawing, are you?" he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray like he had done a thousand times before.

The kettle whistled, and she moved with ease, pouring the steaming water over the tea bags, the rich aroma filling the small, worn kitchen. She added the milk and sugar to the postman's cup, stirring it with a practised hand.

"Here you go," she said, placing the cup in front of him. "Warm yourself up."

"Bless you, lass," the postman replied, wrapping his hands around the mug as if to soak in its warmth.

The grandfather watched the scene with a softened expression before he straightened, a hint of urgency in his voice cutting through the usual routine. "Put the sign out, will you, love?"

With a tired sigh, she set her teaspoon down and retrieved the sign her grandfather had already sorted that morning, today’s headline written in white chalk across the blackboard surface. She didn't usually pay it much attention, but as she held the frame in her hands, her eyes were drawn to it. One word stood out like a beacon:

‘Britain Declares War on Germany’

“It’s official now,” her grandfather mused, having clocked her shocked, mildly terrified expression, his voice carrying an air of aged wisdom. He had seen another war before this one after all, even then, he had been too old to actually fight in it.

Her breath caught for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. "Today?"

"Aye, today," he confirmed, as if it made any difference, a solemn nod accompanying his words. "The world’s about to change."

She stepped outside, the gravel crunching under her feet as she made her way to the front of the shop. With a steady hand, she hung the sign where it would be seen by all who passed by. She stepped back as if to make sure the words were true and not a trick of the eye, and couldn't help but feel the gravity of the situation settling in. The world was indeed about to change, and their quiet corner of it would not be spared.

As she stood there, contemplating the significance of the headline, she heard the familiar sound of a bicycle approaching. Douglas pulled up, half-dismounting with a hurried air.

“Y’alright, Douglas?” she greeted him, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

Douglas’s eyes flicked to the sign, and he visibly flinched. A deep furrow appeared on his brow, and his jaw tightened, frustration evident in his tense posture.

“Not seen my boy, Tom, have ya?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Fortunately not. Why, is he in trouble?”

Douglas let out a frustrated sigh. “Is he. If you see him, send him back home.”

She nodded, then glanced back at the sign, understanding the unspoken pain in Douglas’s reaction. “I will, Douglas. Take care.”

Douglas gave a curt nod, his eyes lingering on the sign for a moment longer before he mounted his bike again. He gave her a brief, strained smile, the weight of his past experiences clear in his eyes, and pedalled away. She watched him go, feeling the heavy burden of the news. He and Tom were alike in many ways, stubborn mostly though, and set in their ways once their mind was made up. But Douglas was gentler since the first war had changed him, and Tom was never the same after his mother. Turning back to the house, she couldn’t shake the feeling that their small world, like so many others, was on the brink of something monumental. Something far beyond their understanding.

The week passed in a blur of routine tasks and quiet contemplation. She worked diligently, covering the post office as her grandfather went off to the social club, seeking the comfort of familiar faces and shared memories. The steady stream of customers brought a sense of normalcy, yet the weight of the headline hung over her like a shadow, and many others as well.

Each day felt heavier than the last, as the reality of the declaration of war settled in. Conversations with customers often turned to the uncertain future, and the usual gossip was replaced with talk of enlistment and preparations.

As the afternoon sun began to wane one gloomy day, the door to the post office swung open with the chime of the bell. She looked up from the counter, her heart skipping a beat as Tom Bennett walked in. His usual carefree expression was absent, replaced by a seriousness she’d rarely seen before now.

She smiled. “Three guesses who you're skulking away from.”

Tom approached the counter, a faint smirk rose at the corners of his mouth, and his serious depression faltered somewhat. “Box of matches, please.”

She rang him up, the familiar clink of the register grounding her amidst the day's uncertainties. Even from here, behind the counter, she caught the faint scent of cigarettes on his weathered coat, for some reason making her head feel airy. As she handed him the matches, she couldn't help but broach the topic.

“Heard you signed up,” she said, her voice gentle but curious. “What made you do that?”

Tom’s face hardened slightly. She knew immediately why but dare not say. “Don't carry on, had enough of this off Dad.”

“Not Lois?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tom let out a short, humourless laugh. “Nah. She can’t wait to see me gone.”

“How will she cope?” she smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.

Tom shrugged, pocketing the matches. “She’s tougher than she looks. She’ll be alright, both of ‘em will.”

Granda trudged past the doorway leading to the back room, leaving a large heaved sigh with a cigarette between his weathered lips. Tom nodded up at him, “y’alright, Granda? Keeping steady?”

She couldn't help but smile as she glanced back. Nobody called him by his real name, only ever what she had always nicknamed him, from a time where she was unable to say ‘grandad’. At first it embarrassed her, but now to hear everyone else call him Granda, well, it was endearing.

Her grandfather simply glared with hooded eyes, blowing smoke between his lips and permeating the air with musk, “bugger off, ya bone idle twat-”

He was still muttering things as he walked off and she gave Tom a face that showed she was trying her hardest to remain stoic.

“Your own fault really. Should know better.”

Tom chuckled, “Yeah, I should.”

From the first day she stepped behind the counter, Tom had made it his mission to tease and charm her, testing the waters with playful remarks and lingering glances. He would lean in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, just to watch her cheeks flush a delicate pink. It was a game they played, a dance of words and looks that neither was quite brave enough to escalate.

She found herself looking forward to his visits, the highlight of her day amidst the routine tasks of sorting mail and ringing up customers. Tom seemed to delight in the effect he had on her, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in close. “You’re going to spoil me with all this attention,” he’d say, and she’d laugh, trying to hide how much she enjoyed their playful but enigmatic banter.

Now, as Tom stood before her, the weight of his decision to sign up for the war added a new layer to their unspoken bond. The cheeky glint in his eyes was tempered by a newfound seriousness, and she felt the fragile line between them tighten and shift.

As she handed him the change, their fingers brushed, and she felt a familiar warmth rise to her cheeks. “You know,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “you’re going to make a right mess of things if you keep winding everyone up.”

Tom leaned on the counter, his smirk widening. “Oh, you like it when I wind you up. Admit it.”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress her smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Big word for a post office clerk-ow!” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief, rubbing his shoulder in faux offence when she smacked him lightly. If she were honest with herself, it was just an excuse to touch him.

“One of these days, your cheek will get you into real trouble,” she warned, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Tom leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll be the one to give me a proper telling off.”

She rolled her eyes, busying herself with doing a recount of the till, mostly so that she could have something to do with her hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible to resist?” he quipped, his grin widening.

“Impossible to deal with,” she corrected, though her cheeks flushed with a hint of colour.

Tom watched her for a moment, his smile softening, blue eyes flickering to the pile of post she still had to sort. “Got anything for me? I'll take it back on my way home.”

She hummed a laugh, shaking her head as she sorted through.. She always sorted the Bennett Household’s post separately, so she’d be prepared for another one of Tom’s spontaneous visits. “To face the wrath of Douglas?”

He scoffed, leaning back against the counter with a mock look of horror. “Don't make me laugh. I can handle my old man.”

“Brave words, Mr. Bennett,” she teased, handing him a small stack of letters. “But I’m not sure anyone can handle Douglas when he’s in a mood.”

Tom took the letters, their fingers brushing for a brief moment. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” he said with a wink. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

She smiled, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her. “I believe it. Just don’t go getting yourself into too much trouble, alright?”

Tom’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “No promises. Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go.”

As he turned to leave, he glanced back over his shoulder. “And don’t worry, I’ll come back before I ship out. Wouldn’t want to miss another chance to see you blushing for me.”

With that, he straightened and headed for the door, leaving her with a smile and a heart a little lighter despite the day’s heavy news. She watched him go, the weight of their unspoken connection lingering in the air. In her heart she knew she was afraid of truly letting him go, at the prospect of not seeing him walk through those doors every other day. Her heart felt like lead, deep in her chest, wondering if it was already too late, with war reaching their horizons, to admit how she really felt about the man who had just signed up to fight in it.

The days continued to pass in a blur of activity and mounting tension. The declaration of war had cast a long shadow over their small town, and everyone was feeling its effects. Life carried on, but the underlying anxiety was palpable.

A week later, Tom walked into the post office, a different kind of seriousness in his eyes. He held an official-looking envelope in his hand, and she knew immediately what it was.

“Got my papers,” he said, handing her a letter to post. “I’m shipping out in a few days.”

She felt a lump form in her throat but forced a smile. Don’t cry. “So soon?”

He nodded, looking around the familiar space of the post office.

“There’s a…leaving do at the Cross Keys, if you want to come and see me off with the others.”

And why on earth would she have said ‘no’.

A small gathering was held at the local pub to send off the men who had conscripted to do their bit. It was a tradition of sorts, a way for the community to come together and show their support. Friends and family gathered, raising their glasses to wish him well and offer their prayers for his safe return. It was all bright faces, pink cheeked from ale, clinking glasses and all. And all she could do was watch from her seat. Watch him. As if she wanted to print the very image and soul of him into her mind on the off chance he might not return to her, or if he already had a sweetheart to write to, and wouldn't spare a second glance to her.

The pub was filled with laughter and conversation, but she could see the sadness in everyone’s eyes. As the evening wore on, people began to drift away, leaving behind a quieter, more intimate group.

Tom found her sitting at a corner table, nursing a drink. He slid into the seat next to her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Mind if I join the prettiest girl in the room?”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. Tom looked around, then back at her. He was antsy, she could feel his nervous energy a mile away. He was probably annoyed as well. Douglas hadn’t come to the pub that night, and there was always something in Tom that craved his approval. “Got anything you want to say to me before I go, or are you just going to miss me in silence?”

She looked down into her lap, tracing her thumb over the rim of her glass, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know what to say without sounding like a fool, Tom.”

“Then be a fool. I won’t mind.”

Her chest was all tight with anxiety when she finally had the courage to form the reply, looking up into his blue eyes, “this place just won’t be the same without you.”

She’d always seen Tom a certain way. Sure. Cock of the walk. Ever since his own mother died he’d almost put on this thick outer layer that was impenetrable. But here, sat with half a beer left in his glass, tapping his fingers against it nervously, his eyes gave way to something more vulnerable. They both know he was off to go and do something important, that he needed to feel valuable in some way, and this was his way of proving it. But his expression showed that he was also a young man, like so many others, who was afraid.

“I won’t miss much about his place.”

Her heart sank a fraction, deep, forming a pit in her stomach. And it seemed Tom sensed it, as he twisted his body to face her, nudging her arm with his elbow to grab her attention again.

“But I will miss you. Especially you.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze. The pub was nearly empty now, the noise reduced to a low murmur, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable in her chair, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt in a gesture of uncertainty about herself. “Tom, I–”

His lips pressed to hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was a moment they had both imagined countless times, but reality was far sweeter and more poignant.

When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers and chuckled softly. “About time we stopped dancing around it, isn’t it?”

She could laugh. Cry even.

Tom sensed her surprise and something that lingered deeper, but his bravado didn’t allow him to approach it, but it was enough that his thumb brushed a wayward hair from her face. “Had to get that in before I left. Didn’t want to regret missing my chance.”

She let out a relieved, breathy laugh. One that expelled all the tension from her body for a moment. Her eyes never quite left him, as if in wonder. And she was hit with the endless thought that she did not want this moment to end, she didn’t want him to leave. But knew she could never ask that of him.

“Promise me you’ll write,” she said instead.

A classically-Tom Bennett smirk rose to his face. He always did that when he saw the colour rise to her face. “I might.”

They both laughed lightly, with some uncertainty, when she swatted his shoulder. That attitude would get him in trouble, if not with her.

“How about I do you one better,” he started, “I’ll come back, and we’ll have our time.”

She knew then she could ask no more of him. She felt a mixture of hope and fear, knowing how much she was already relying on his return, how much she already craved it. But in response to his weighty promise, she nodded softly, her eyes feeling heavy with tears she did well to keep back.

It almost felt cruel, to have this moment the day before he would leave her for the seas. There had been no time…

Tom’s cheeky grin returned, albeit with a touch of tenderness. “Good. Now, let’s get you home before I change my mind and decide to stay here with you.”

She wished he would.

It was only when she was at her doorstep, watching him walk away, the darkness gradually enveloping him, that she finally took a deep breath, clutching the memory of his kiss and the promise of his return close to her heart.

The days following Tom’s departure were filled with a bittersweet mixture of hope and anxiety. She busied herself at the post office, trying to keep her mind off the worry gnawing at her. The routine tasks that once felt mundane now served as a distraction from the ever-present uncertainty.

On the morning Tom was scheduled to ship out, she was on shift, sorting through the morning post with a heavy heart. She couldn’t bring herself to go to the docks to see him off, knowing it would be too much to bear. Instead, she stayed at the post office, her mind wandering to thoughts of him, imagining his cheeky grin and the promise in his eyes.

After a fortnight, she was giddy with joy when she was sorting the post and saw her name amongst the pile, she nearly gave herself a papercut in her fervent attempts to open the letter, wanting to see his words, in his hand, it would give her happiness beyond belief.

Little Miss Postie, You wouldn't believe the state of things here. It's a lot different from our quiet little town. The lads are a good bunch, though, mostly, and they’ve already learned to put up with my jokes. They’ve got no choice, really. It’s either that or Hitler and I wouldn’t like those odds. I miss seeing your face every day, the way you blush when I tease you. You remember that night at the pub? I bet you do. I wasn’t joking about regretting not kissing you sooner. Let’s just say I’ve had some pretty vivid dreams since then. Don’t worry, I’m keeping my head down and staying out of trouble. Mostly. But it’s hard not to think about you when I’m supposed to be focusing on training. The open sea allows a man to think a bit too much, and every time I see the stars at night, I think of you. And, well, there’s not much else to do out here except think… and maybe imagine a few things I shouldn’t put in a letter. Write me back soon. Tell me everything. And don’t leave out the parts that make you blush. Yours, Tom

She sat at the counter, Tom’s latest letter in hand, a smile tugging at her lips as she read his words again. The warmth of his cheeky tone and the sincerity of his affection made her heart flutter. She knew she had to reply, but she wanted to make it special.

Rising from her seat, she walked over to the display of postcards near the entrance of the post office. The assortment included scenic views, cheerful illustrations, and wartime propaganda. Her fingers brushed over each one until she found a postcard that seemed perfect—a World War II specific postcard featuring a charming drawing of a sailor in uniform, waving from a ship, with the words “Keep Smiling and Carry On” printed in bold letters.

She took the postcard back to the counter and carefully penned her reply, choosing her words with care and affection. When she finished, she read it over, her cheeks warming at the bolder parts. With a satisfied smile, she addressed the postcard and prepared to send it off.

Dear Tom, I’m glad to hear you’re getting along with the lads and keeping them entertained. The town isn’t the same without you, and I miss your cheeky grin and those comments that always get under my skin—in the best way, of course. I hope you continue to write to your father and Lois, they miss you greatly. I’ve been thinking about that night at the pub too. More often than I should admit. Sometimes I catch myself smiling like a fool. Granda thinks I’ve gone mad. He’s just a few pennies short of putting me away. Since you were so forward in your letter, I suppose I can be a little brave too. I’ve had a few dreams myself, some of them involving a certain navy man and that uniform you hate. I’m looking forward to seeing you out of it as much as in it. Stay safe, Tom. I can’t wait for your next letter. Yours, ‘Little Miss Postie’

Little Miss Postie, I knew there was a reason I liked you. I couldn’t stop smiling when I read your letter. And blushing? Don’t worry, I’ve been doing plenty of that myself. Don’t tell anyone though or I’ll tell everyone you’re lying. I can’t wait to get back and see if those dreams of yours are as good as mine. Maybe we’ll have to find out together. And as for that uniform, well, I’ll make sure to wear it just for you. But you might have to help me out of it later. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. Training is tough, and they’re keeping us on our toes, but thoughts of you keep me going. The lads are starting to wonder why I’ve got this goofy grin on my face all the time. I’ve been telling them about you—well, only the parts that won’t make them too jealous. They all say hello, by the way. Take care of yourself, love. And keep those letters coming. They’re the best part of my day. Yours, Tom

Her reply was affectionate, written with that telltale blush to her cheeks that Tom would have made fun of her for. Every scratch of the pen on paper, telling him that him blushing at her letter would be their little secret, and that he shouldn’t give the lads too high of expectations of her, made her heart feel as light as air. And as she signed off the letter, urging him to come back to her, she would not let that little whisper of uncertainty grow at the back of her mind. And as she turned over the postcard, appreciating the watercolour design on the front, she thought of his face when, and how she imagined it would light up when he received it. Just as hers does.

She waited for a response. But none came.

She found herself anxious, restless. Had she said something wrong? Gone too far? Scared him off with her incessant affections and flirtations? Surely not, she thought. But the lack of any real response had tensions rising in her gut, and the seed of doubt had long been planted.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, she checked the post every morning with a mix of anticipation and dread. Each time the mail arrived, she sifted through the letters, hoping to find one from Tom. But there was nothing. No letter, no word. Her heart sank a little more with each passing day.

Her grandfather and the regular customers noticed the change in her. She became quieter, more introspective, holding onto the hope that Tom would keep his promise and return. The thought of his words, “I’ll be back, and we’ll have our time,” became her lifeline, the thing that kept her going through the long, uncertain months.

Sometimes, she'd allow herself a trip to the house Tom used to inhabit, remembering the times she'd pass by on her way to the post office and spot him leaning against the doorway, smoke blowing from between his curled lips, amused to see the way she was watching him.

She'd hand Lois the post, come in for a cuppa, sometimes Douglas would say a quick hello as he was passing through the kitchen. But whenever she saw him, she was reminded very much of Tom, thousands of miles away from her, and the way his eyes crinkled like Douglas’ did when he smiled.

Every morning, she performed her duties with a determined smile, greeting the postman with a hopeful glance, on the off chance that some letter had accidentally ended up at Douglas’ home, only to be met with a sympathetic shake of the head. She would take a deep breath, steel herself, and continue with her day, refusing to let despair take hold. If she ever let it stick, it would swallow her whole.

It was funny how life had a way of testing people in their worst times.

Granda had always been stubborn. So much so that even when she told him she would put out the sign in a moment, he was too impatient. She only found him later, collapsed alongside the sign for that day's news. But no news seemed as important to her as that very minute, knelt beside her dying grandfather and shouting at passerbys for help.

If her little town was good for anything, it was community. Her grandfather left enough to cover the costs for the funeral, but all who remained put in as much as they could so that they could give the very beating heart of their slice of peace a good sendoff. Her grandfather would have hated it, everyone snivelling and crying over him. But it took the edge off her grief to see that he had touched the hearts of so many, despite his grumpy attitude.

At least, she thought, she wouldn't have to let go of the post office and go work in a factory. This small slice of peace was all she had left of her grandfather. And she counted her blessings that he had left her a good amount in his will, and what remained of his savings.

She only hoped that this brief didn't come in pairs. And she couldn't help but think of Tom now she was truly alone, running the post office by herself, her loneliness only exacerbated by the fact she only had herself to make a brew for in the morning now. She has the most vivid nightmares about the day someone would come and break the news that he wouldn't come back.

Then, one crisp morning, as she stood behind the counter, sorting the latest batch of letters, the door to the post office swung open with a familiar chime. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat as Tom Bennett stepped inside, dressed in his navy uniform, looking weary but very much alive.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The weight of all the months of worry and hope melted away as he crossed the room, a tired but genuine smile spreading across his face.

“I told you I’d come back,” he said softly, his voice carrying the same mix of cheekiness and sincerity that she had missed so dearly.

For a moment, she stood frozen, unable to believe her eyes. Then, in a rush of emotion, she ran around the counter and threw herself into his arms. As she hugged him tightly, the dam of her emotions broke and she began to sob uncontrollably. He smelled of cigarettes and the sea, a mix of salt and smoke that was uniquely him. The scent brought a rush of memories and emotions, grounding her in the reality of his presence. His uniform carried the faint tang of saltwater, a reminder of the long months he had spent away from her, battling the elements and the enemy.

Tom hugged her back, a bit confused by the intensity of her reaction. “Hey now, what’s all this? I’m back, aren’t I? In one piece and everything.”

She laughed through her tears, clutching him even tighter. “You look terrible in that uniform,” she said, her voice shaky but filled with affection.

Tom chuckled, a familiar warm feeling pooling in her gut, rubbing her back soothingly. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t join the navy for the fashion. Besides, I was hoping you’d be so happy to see me that you wouldn’t notice.”

She wiped her cheek, feeling like air was finally making its way into her lungs. “Y-You didn’t write me back. I thought I'd lost you too.”

“I’m sorry, love. I never meant to leave you in the dark. It was just complicated out there, I–”, Tom furrowed his brows, his head cocking down at her slightly. “Too? I—”

He only had to look around. It was never usually this quiet. And she saw the realisation dawn across his war-hardened face when he spotted the framed picture of Granda on the counter.

“Oh, no,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “When?”

“A few months ago,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Stroke. The tobacco must have caught up with him.”

Tom’s expression softened, and he pulled her into a tighter embrace. “I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered, resting his cheek on her head, “you're more a soldier, doing all this on your own.”

She held onto him, his presence like a balm for her aching heart, growing stronger every day around the pit that was grief. “I didn't feel very strong.”

Tom didn't reply. He hadn't felt very strong himself either. And she knew from the way his large hand rubbed her back to comfort her, that there was more to his easy-going facade than he wanted to let on. And he knew for her equally, that the months were tough on her own, and that she was still healing.

“Missed you so much,” she confessed, pulling away slightly to look up at his half-worried expression, “it felt like I was losing both of you at the same time.”

Tom sighed, a light, almost pretty sound from his lips, his gaze drifting down slightly to her lips, as if he were just remembering all the details he didn't want to admit he'd forgotten all those months at sea.

“Don't cry.” His thumb lingered, swiping away a tear from her under eye, before he lightened the atmosphere with his smile, “I'd prefer to see you blush again. Suits you better.”

She couldn't help a smile breaking across her face, and the warmth that crept up her neck made her feel like a schoolgirl.

Tom winked. “There it is.”

Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, as if testing the waters. Her hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his uniform as she kissed him back, the warmth of his lips against hers sending a shiver down her spine.

She pulled back slightly, a playful protest on her lips. “Tom, we’re still open…”

He gave her a devilish smile, turning around to flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ and locking it with a swift motion. “Not anymore, we’re not.”

He wasted no time, pulling her back into his arms, his lips growing more insistent and passionate. His hands roamed her back, finding the familiar curves and contours he had missed so much, but had no time to explore before he’d left. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire.

She felt her own longing mirror his, her body responding eagerly to his touch. “Show me,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Tom’s grin turned wicked as he trailed kisses down her neck, his hands exploring with newfound urgency. “I've been dreaming about this,” he murmured against her skin, his breath hot and tantalising. “Every fucking night.”

She laughed softly, feeling a delightful mix of anticipation and excitement. “Tom Bennett, you are impossible.”

He gave no reply, his fingers already working on the buttons of her blouse. His movements were deft, practised, as if he had imagined this moment a thousand times over. She gasped as his hands brushed her skin, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

His lips found hers again, their kiss deepening as he pulled her blouse free, letting it fall to the floor. “Yeah, but I knew you’d come around,” he said with a cheeky grin, his hands sliding to her waist and pulling her closer.

Their kisses grew hungrier, their bodies pressing together with an urgency that had been building for months. She reached for the buttons on his uniform, her fingers trembling slightly in anticipation as she worked to free him from the fabric. He shrugged off his jacket and pulled her into his arms again, his hands caressing her bare skin and breasts through her brassiere, sending waves of heat through her.

She sighed, her head falling back as his lips trailed down her neck, his kisses leaving a path of fire in their wake. “Tom,” she breathed, her hands clutching at him, needing more.

“I know, love,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “I know.”

He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the small sofa in the back of the post office where she sometimes took breaks. Gently, he laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers. Their movements became a dance of passion and longing, each touch, each kiss, a testament to the months they had been apart. Tom’s hands explored her with a reverence that made her feel cherished, loved.

As if by muscle memory from those dreams he would write about, his knee slid between her thighs as his hands roughly bunched up her skirt to her hips, two fingers tucking between them to tease her bud through her knickers.

“Tom,” she gasped, her body arching against his.

“Shh,” he soothed, his lips capturing hers once more. “I’ve got you.”

She was enraptured by the way he nipped at her lips, that she only realised he had pulled the gusset of her underwear aside when he gently, but insistently, pushed two fingers inside her, crooking upwards and finding that rough, sweet spot with unyielding precision.

He swallowed every sound she made, every now and then a grunt of approval slipping past his own lips as he stretched her open on his fingers, his pace teasing. Her fingernails left crescent moon shaped welts in his now bare shoulders, the muscles tensing beneath them.

Tom hummed against her lips, pleased with himself. “Not so shy now, are you?”

His teeth slid across her neck, no doubt marks left behind, but she couldn't even focus on that with the way he was insistent on teasing that wild spot inside her that made her body feel like white, fluttery flames.

“I've missed your reactions…especially this one.”

His thumb joined in his ministrations, applying gentle but firm pressure to her bundle of nerves in tandem with his fingers plunging in and out of her wet heat. And if her face hadn't been buried in his shoulder, she would have cried out, embarrassed at the sounds she and her body was making. Tom however, seemed to revel in it, his hand soaked with her arousal as she teetered on the edge.

The tightness in her gut spiralled as she clutched him tighter, her body aching pleasantly with the force of her peak rushing through her, all while Tom grinned and didn't falter, as if to watch her linger on that border of pain and pleasure.

Before she had even fully come down, his fingers were gone and she felt she was able to fully breathe again. Her flushed expression snapped open to him as he pulled her thighs towards him, on the sofa, and watched as he righted himself and slid his belt through the loops of his trousers, a sound that made her belly flutter.

He raised his eyebrows, pulling his trousers low enough to free himself and leaned over her again. “Missed me that much?”

She laughed, and hid her face, the dull ache still thrumming through her body ignited again as the head of is cock parted her folds and nudged her bud. “Tom-”

Warmth crept to her face again when his hand turned her face towards him again, his pupils near eclipsing the blue with want as he sheathed himself within her, holding her there to watch her expression as her walls stretched to accommodate him.

In any other scenario, she would want to slap that self-impressed look off his face, but not now, not when it felt this good.

His eyebrows barely furrowed, struggling to keep his composure. “Christ, you're so fucking tight—”

His words shot straight to her core, clenching around him and eyes slipping shut as he began a tortuous pace, like he hadn't gotten to this part in his dreams before. His arms wrapped around her like choking ivy, pushing her body to his with every needy thrust, his breath hot against her neck and the metal of his identification tag cold against her chest.

For a few brief moments, the world outside the post office ceased to exist. There were only the two of them, reconnecting in a way that was both familiar and new. Tom's cheeky comments and playful touches had yielded to blend seamlessly with his genuine affection, creating a moment that was perfect in all its imperfections.

She can feel his hips growing tired the closer he gets, and if she is being truthful, the cooling sensation of the buckle of his belt and the friction it gives her is only flinging her to the edge right alongside him. And when he breathes her name all shaky and low like that, she can't help herself, and she lets go again with a choked cry, the second sneaking up on her so quickly it feels like she never really recovered from the first.

With a stuttered groan, mirrored by his own hips, he crushes her in his arms and pushes forward as hard as he can, burying himself as deep as he's able as he comes hard nestled in her silky walls. She held him on top of her, his weight a comforting reminder that he was real, that he was here. Her fingers gently traced the contours of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his breath.

Her heart was still racing, but not just from their shared passion. It was the sheer relief, the overwhelming sense of having him back in her arms after so long. Every night of worry, every day of longing, all melted away in this moment.

She buried her face in his hair, inhaling the familiar scent of him, mixed with the faint hint of the sea. Tears of relief welled up in her eyes, but this time they were tears of joy, of profound gratitude. And she wanted to say so much, but whenever she tried, her throat closed up, not wanting to interrupt this quiet, loving slice of peace in her arms. For the first time in months, she felt whole again.

When he finally pulls back, breathless and flushed, Tom rests his forehead against hers, his eyes filled with love and mischief, her his voice low and intimate. He means to say so much more. The depth of his feelings, the fears, and the nights he had spent longing for her, it all threatened to spill out, leaving him vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. She saw it, though, in the way his eyes darkened with emotion, the unspoken words lingering just beneath the surface.

“I think we might need to close early more often.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

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fictoculus · 1 year ago

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౨ৎ pyro; the masterlist...

"the light of pyro - the element typically (and wrongly) associated with acts of malice and destruction - is unparalleled. it's flames dance freely in the gentle breeze, their energy contagious as the wind swirls around them. this element radiates pure warmth, and provides comfort in many homes across teyvat, just like those who wield it's power..."

➛ go back

✧ bennet.

their voicelines for you; part 5

✧ diluc.

their voicelines for you; part 2 how their bedrooms would look; modern au how they kiss how they hug the perfect apple; drabble them w a tall partner how they kiss; rewritten genshin men; love languages

✧ klee.

their voicelines for you; part 4

✧ lyney.

how they kiss; rewritten

✧ thoma.

their voicelines for you; part 2 how their bedrooms would look; modern au how they hug how they cuddle; inazuma ver how they kiss; rewritten genshin men; love languages

✧ yoimiya.

their voicelines for you; part 2

can't find what you're looking for? feel free to send me a request, and check out my rules if you haven't already!

#—☆ fictoculus resources #genshin x reader #genshin masterlist #pyro #bennet x reader #diluc x reader #klee x reader #thoma x reader #yoimiya x reader #lyney x reader

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unabashednightmarepizza · 2 years ago

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Damn, there are so many choices but these are the ones I have a mild idea to put on work 🥹🥲

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eraenaa · 1 year ago

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Most Ardently

Inspired by Pride and Prejudice

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen had accompanied his younger brother to Highgarden in hopes of securing Daeron a wife— he did not expect he would want to secure a wife for himself as well.

Warning: Not Proofread, Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy

Word Count: 3,702

Aemond walked stiffly as he was about to enter a hall filled with merriment. He only wished to go to Old Town with the purpose of visiting and checking upon his younger brother’s well-being as requested by their mother— he had no wish to be dragged to Highgarden and attend a ball hosted by its Lord. Aemond walked behind Daeron as they entered the hall, all eyes upon them. All attendees bowed when they passed— all showing respect to their princes except for one. Aemond saw you by his right, a chalice in your hand, whispering to a girl beside you with a grin on your lips— completely disregarding the presence of royalty.

When you finally realized that everyone around you had grown quiet and the music had stopped, you turned to face forward—locking eyes with the unique gaze of Old Valyria. Quickly curtsying as you remembered it was the protocol, bowing your head and breaking your gaze from the prince who only had one eye. His name seemed to elude you. You knew of Prince Daeron well, the prince having spent the week’s end in your family’s keep, hosted by your lord father because he was courting your elder sister. You seem to forget which brother Prince Daeron now walked with— was it Prince Aegon or Prince Aemond?

“Which prince is that again?” You whispered to your sisters as your father scanned the crowd in search of you two to be presented to the esteemed guests. “That is Prince Aemond,” Your sister answered. “He looks miserable, poor soul,” You whisper, making your sister shake her head in amusement. “Miserable, he may be, but poor, he most certainly is not.” You frowned at your sister’s words. “I was told he has twice the inheritance than any of his brothers— even though he is only the second born, he is greatly favored by his mother and grandfather. That he is set to inherit Dragonstone once Prince Aegon is King.” You hummed and could not think of a reply as you two were finally seen by your father and were whisked away to be presented to the princes.

Music flooded the room once more as you stood before the princes. A lone eye would intermittently fly to your frame as your father spoke. “Prince Daeron, my daughters, you already know of.” Your father began, and you wanted to playfully roll your eyes at your sister as the moment she and the younger prince locked eyes, a blush ran on both cheeks and a giddy smile plastered on their lips. “Of course, and my I introduce you two to my brother, Aemond.” Prince Daeron smiled as he was delighted to be accompanied by his older brother.

You and your sister curtsied once more, smiling expectantly at the newly arrived prince who simply stood stiff as a board and offered no signs of recognition to you nor your sister. Simply blinked as his lone gaze would shift between the two of you. You wanted to frown, but your sister who knew you too well took hold of your arm and lightly pinched it as a communication to keep your expression neutral.

As the song ended and a new one began, you and your sister, along with the prince who courted her, went off to the side to chat whilst your father spoke formally with the One-Eyed prince whose gaze would fly over to your group with each moment passed. “I apologize for my brother— he is just not keen on large parties… nor small ones to be honest,” Prince Daeron explained. “And so you decided to take him to a ball instead?” You asked making your sister nudge your side, fearing that you spoke offense but Prince Daeron simply laughed. You passed your gaze where the older prince stood, seemingly glaring at the room, passing his gaze around the sea of people as if they had wronged him.

Prince Aemond found his way and stood next to his brother once more. Silent as you three were enveloped in conversation. As a new song began, you smiled as you watched the younger prince escort your sister to the floor for a dance. You passed your gaze to the prince, who stood stoically beside you, unmoving except for his eye. “Do you dance, Prince Aemond?” You inquired, his lilac eye still scanning the room filled with glee— judging as everyone around seemed to be intoxicated with joy.

“Not if I could help it,” He coldly responded. Not even turning to you as he spoke. It was then that you finally let the confused frown slip your face. But you shrugged him off and walked away, determined not to let his demeanor dampen your mood. Aemond’s eye followed you as you walked off, a small smile on your lips as you admired the merriment around. It did not matter that you were not asked to dance; you were completely fine to watch your sister get more acquainted with the youngest prince of the realm, who had been courting her for the past three moons.

After two songs passed, you found yourself resting your feet behind a pillar, your presence unbeknownst to anyone who walked past. “She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld,” You hear the familiar voice of Prince Daeron speak and you could not help but smile at how enamored he was with your sister. You hear Prince Aemond hum, and you peek from behind the pillar to listen more into the princes’ conversation. “And her sister is very agreeable, do you not think so? She is of celebrated beauty here in the Reach.” You smile at the younger prince’s recognition of your beauty but quickly vanishes as you hear Prince Aemond’s response. “Perfectly tolerable, I dare say, but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

You scoff to yourself as you hear their footsteps depart. Greatly offended by the prince’s words. Your tried to proceed with the night and forget you had heard his offensive words. But as you were forced into the chatter of a group with him, you could not help but let a hint of animosity show. “I wondered who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?” You ask as your mother embarrassingly recalls you and your sister's past suitors who were keen on writing you sonnets after sonnets but never fully committing to marriage. “I thought that poetry was the fruit of love?” Prince Aemond asked, the group hiding away their surprise when the prince finally spoke and joined in on the conversation.

“Of a fine, stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination, I’m convened one poor sonnet will it stone dead.” You replied as you gazed at his lone eye that would fleet away, unable to hold the intensity and teasing mirth in your orbs. “So what do you recommend to encourage affection?” He asked, finally holding your gaze as you felt a smirk rising to your lips. “Dancing, my prince. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.” You smiled and curtsied, watching as his eye flooded with the realization that you had heard what he had said. You walked away before he even got a chance to reply. His gaze followed you as you blended into the sea of guests.

When the night ended, you told your sister what you had heard while hiding behind a pillar. “Count your blessing, sissy, if he liked you, you’d have to talk to him.” She says as she brushes your hair, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Precisely, as it is, I wouldn’t have danced with him for the whole kingdom, let alone dreary Dragonstone.” You tried to laugh it off and brush away the wound he had inflicted on your pride. After a few moments of silence, your sister spoke once more. “I still cannot believe what he said about you,” she muttered as she finished brushing the fine locks of your hair. “I could easily forgive the prince’s vanity if he had not wounded mine,” You say as you tucked the strands of your hair behind your ear, gazing at the mirror. “Me? Perfectly tolerable? He’d be lucky if anyone who had half of my beauty would find him tolerable,” you scoffed with a roll of your eyes, making your sister laugh at your pride and confidence that muddled with each other. You sighed and stood, “I do not wish to think more about the One-eyed Prince. Good night, sister; I shall see you when morning comes.” You say and kiss her cheeks before leaving her room.

When morning came, Prince Daeron was quick to send an invitation to you and your sister to visit him in Old Town. An invitation your sister giddily accepted, and you politely declined— no want to see the One-Eyed Prince once more. But as your beloved sister was taken by fever whilst on her journey there, you had no choice but to follow her.

“Lady Tyrell, Your Highnesses,” They announced your arrival, and you walked into the room. Biting the inside of your cheeks when Prince Aemond abruptly stood from his chair and bowed. You quickly curtsied and turned to his brother, “So good of you to come so quickly; your sister has missed you terribly.” Prince Daeron said and walked towards you. “Follow me, and I’ll escort you to where she rests.” He said, and you followed him out of the room but gave one last look at his older brother before doing so.

Aemond silently trailed behind the two of you. His mind was plagued by your eyes, by your voice, by your smile. His brother had no intention of sending an invitation for you to come to Old Town, but he had infiltrated his thoughts and lightly manipulated him to send the invitation, which you declined, disappointing the prince. It would be cruel to him to admit that he saw your sister’s illness as optimal because now you had no choice but to join them in Old Town. “Oh, sissy,” You fretted as you saw her lying on the bed, pale and had a damp cloth on her forehead.

“Thank you for taking care of my sister so diligently,” You said to Prince Daeron, who gave a nod and a smile. “Of course, it’s a pleasure she’s here,” You smile at the prince you suspect would be your brother through marriage soon enough. “I shall give you two privacy— if you are in need of anything, do not hesitate to ask,” you smile and nod, watching as Prince Daeron reluctantly removes his gaze from your sister. “He is completely in love with you; I’m quite certain of it.” You smiled at your sister and took her cold hands in yours to warm them. “I’m so glad you’re here; I feel such a terrible imposition.” You laugh, “Please, the prince seemed thrilled that you are here being ill.” You smile, and your sister shakes her head.

“I’ve come to know of something the other day,” She said, piquing your interest as you thought she would share gossip. “Apparently, your invitation was sent for by Prince Aemond,” Your sister smiled, but you did not mirror it. “He is the one who sent you an invitation— he wishes for your presence.” Your sister further explained as she saw concussion in your eyes. “What for? To insult me once more?” You say bitterly. “Oh, sissy, you cannot let one’s transgression sully your entire image of them. People are bound to make mistakes— I’m certain Prince Aemond did not mean what he had said.” You rolled your eyes and stubbornly shook your head. “It does not matter if he is the one to send the invitation or not— my only purpose of coming here is to see how you are.” You said, and thankfully, your sister no longer brought the subject up.

Days passed as you were in the presence of the Princes as you waited for your sister to recover. You found yourself engaging in more arguments than conversations with the Prince, whom your sister said was the one to send you the invitation. If not engaged in lively arguments, both of you would simply catch each other’s eyes. Gazing at each other silently, secretively until caught.

You were in the parlor with Prince Daeron, playing a round of cards, when his brother came in with a book. “You waste your time with the frivolity of gambling,” You feel yourself frown but quickly take hold of your expression, turning to the younger prince whose turn it was to disagree with his brother. “It is just a bit of fun, brother. Not everything in life must be overly serious. Come, join us,” Daeron said and discarded in the middle of the velvet table.

“I’d rather read of civility than play cards and be at the threshold of a scoundrel,” Prince Aemond stated, his eye flying to you. Resisting the urge to smirk as the furrow in your brow returned as well as the pout on your plump lips. When your eyes locked, he raised his brow in question. “Anything to share, Lady Tyrell? Any musings or disagreement you’d wish to discuss with your prince?” He hummed, tone almost teasing. You knew he was baiting you, and if you had more energy that day, you’d happily take it, but you shook your head. “None, Your Highness.” You say, slightly disappointing the prince, for the only opportunity he had to speak with you and keep your attention with him was through your arguments.

When supper came, you entered the dining room expecting two princes, just like the other nights. But only the One-Eyed Prince waited for you. You quickly curtsied as he stood, “Where is Prince Daeron, your Highness?” You inquired as you were assisted to sit by one of the footmen. “My brother says he wishes to retire early tonight— it would be just us… if that is agreeable with you. If not, then say so, and I’ll take my supper in the servant’s quarters.” You looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out why he was still challenging you. “I am completely fine with any arrangement, my prince,” You say and proceed with the overly quiet meal as the prince and you shared no word but only stare at each other— challenging gazes that neither fell victim to.

The following morning, your sister had recovered enough for the both of you to head home. No anger wanting to impose and overwelcome your stay with the princes. “Prince Daeron, I do not know how to thank you,” You hear your sister say in gratitude, “You’re welcome anytime you feel the least bit poorly,” You bit back your smile as you followed your sister to the carriage. “Prince Aemond,” You cursed stoically— only doing it as he was a prince, and it would be impertinent not to note his presence. You turned to Prince Daeron and let a smile slip your lips, curtsying to the prince you hoped to be your brother in marriage in the near future.

You raised your leg to step foot in the carriage but were slightly startled as you felt someone take hold of your left hand, assisting you in boarding the wheelhouse. You turned to the prince, who took hold of your hand. Aemond quickly savored the surprise in your eyes and how your plump lips parted before relinquishing his hold of your hand and returning to the keep without another word, stretched his hand that touched yours as an unfamiliar tingle consumed it.

It was not a week later that you returned to Hightower, where another ball was to commence. You and your sister walked, arms linked, you wearing the green of your house whilst her the yellow, both of you had flowers adorned in your hair. “Will this perhaps be the night you will finally be a prince’s betrothed?” You teased and laughed as your sister’s cheeks bloomed with color. “Do not get my hopes up, sissy; it has been three moons since the Prince had first started courting me… in all honesty, my faith is running thin.” You frowned and shook your head. “Do not speak as such, sister. He is in love with you— I am quite certain of it,”

You straightened your back as you neared the hall's threshold, the hosts standing before it to welcome their guests. “I—I’m so pleased you’re here,” Prince Daeron told your sister whilst your gaze was traveling the room, distracted and trying to ignore the challenging yet indifferent gaze of a lone lilac eye. “And how are you tonight, my lady?” Prince Daeron asked, but you were too preoccupied. “My lady?” He called once more, and your sister elbowed your side. “Are you looking for someone?” Prince Aemond drawled, and you shook your head at his inquiring eye, glancing over to where your gaze was. “No, not at all,” You said and quickly curtsied to enter the hall, an eye following you as walked away.

Aemond tried to refocus his gaze to anywhere or anyone else but he could not. It had been steady on you since the moment you arrived, watching you whilst you were chatting with a group of girls you had known since childhood, when suddenly you were approached by a young man from house Redwyne, and a gnawing feeling in his gut announced itself as he saw a smile bloom into your pink lips as you gave your hand to the young man who escorted you to dance. Aemond’s hold on his chalice tightened as he saw you giggle with the man who spun you around and dared to keep his hold on your waist. The prince saw red as he watched the man dip down and whisper something in your ear, earning a sweet, bashful blush on your cheeks.

The prince dug his nails into his palm, quickly moving to the sea of dancers to take your partner's spot before anyone else would have a chance to dance with you— before anyone else would have a chance to hold you. “May I have the next dance, lady Tyrell?” The prince asked the moment the first song ended. You looked around the room as most eyes were on you, a peculiar scene as the stoic prince, who seemed to detest dancing and preferred to stand by the side, asked you for a dance. You licked your lips before answering, “You may,” You quietly said.

“Did I just agree to dance with Prince Aemond?” You whispered to your sister, who had a teasing smile on her lips. “I dare say you will find him very amiable, sissy.” Your sister smiled, and you shook your head. Stubborn and still holding a bias against the second-born prince of the realm. “It would be most inconvenient since I have sworn to loathe him for all eternity!” You rambled but could not help but laugh at your fate. Your sister joined along and pulled you towards the dance floor as the second song was to start, and two princes waited for the two of you.

You were stood across the One-Eyed Prince. His stance is still stiff, and you began to wonder if he’d be any good at dancing. Aemond bit his tongue as you curtsied before him, your dress and lowered stance giving him a slight view of your bosom. He clenched his jaw and willed any thought of impropriety may leave his thoughts and body.

“I love this dance,” you say as you circle around the prince, his eye following your every movement. Aemond would note that they would waver upon his gaze if it were anyone else but not you. “Indeed, it is most invigorating,” he answered, slightly cringing to himself if that was the proper response. There was another moment of tense silence between the two of you, you sighing as you were starting to grow accustomed to it, but in all honesty, you’d rather talk that night, even if it were with him. “I believe it is your turn to say something, my prince.” You say and feel your lips twitch upward as you have the devilish thought to tease him.

“I talked about the dance; now, you ought to remark on the size of the room or the couples present.” You say as you feel his hold on your hand tighten ever so lightly. “I am perfectly happy to oblige you, my lady. Please advise me of what you would like most to hear,” You let a smirk slip your lips at his sardonic response. “That reply will do for now,” You said as you focused on the dance. But you could not truly do so because it seems your whole being was intent on focussing itself on the prince. The way he stared you down, the way his lithe body gracefully glided with the dance, the way it felt to hold his hand. It would shame you to say that after the dance, your body felt alight, and the beat of your heart ran almost alarmingly in your chest.

You excused yourself from the crowded room, finding calm outside in a marble gazebo. The structure barely lit and only illuminated by the light of the moon. You rested your back on the cool pillar, hoping it would ease the inner heat that torched your body. You closed your eyes and tried to control your ragged breathing and raging thoughts of the One-Eyed Prince.

“Lady Tyrell,” You jumped in your spot, eyes growing wide as you were startled by the prince's presence. “My prince,” You breathed out, uncertain why he had followed you. “In vain have I struggled. It will not do.” He began to speak rendering you more confused. “What… your highness, I—“ He shook his head and dared to step forward. You stared at his eye, lilac darker in the dim light.

“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell I admire and love you.” Aemond watched you as your lips parted and your fine eyes filled with utter shock. “Most Ardently.”

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