pairing: adam stanheight x gn!reader
warnings: angst, reader grieving adams death.
a/n: v v v short attempt at helping my writers block lol. requests r still open btw.
in the moment, it felt as if it could last forever. but, nothing ever does; the flowers sat on your bedside table that had wilted proved this true. there was no need in trying to revive them, some things were meant to let go of.
you had asked yourself the question, ‘why?’ so many times it didn’t seem like a real word anymore. why him? why not you? why weren’t you there to save him?
of course, deep down you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty. guilty that somehow you had been the one to cause adam to end up in that bathroom.
countless nights you’d spent awake, unable to think about anything but your boyfriends body just rotting away, alone, in a desolate, decrepit bathroom. wishing you were at least there — even if not alive — just so he wouldn’t be lonely during death.
you hadn’t touched any of his stuff, save for the t-shirt you were wearing (it still smells of him.) you didn’t have the heart to move or tidy any of it, because something in you was telling you that tidying his stuff would truly prove he ceases to exist; telling you if you left it as is, he’d eventually come home.
you’d never admit it to yourself, but you knew he was never coming home. it hurt too much. no matter how much therapy you had, you’d never heal from this. you truly believed he was your soulmate.
maybe in another universe.
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part 1 of regency era!ghost x reader
noodled from this.
warnings: angst, forced/arranged marriage, emotional neglect, Simon being an absolute dick.
you weren't an idiot. you knew better than to expect love from an arranged marriage. if watching your parents' has taught you anything, it's to not have such high hopes for something so impossible to achieve.
but at the very least, you hoped for some level of cooperation. a hint of companionship. a friendship, perhaps.
your husband has been so cold from the very beginning. he met you the day of the wedding. you both said your vows, kissed and briefly danced for the court to witness. after that, there was a few moments of the consummation of the marriage and you were sent on your way after that was over with.
it was difficult to adjust to his indifference, despite what you've been told. you thought that you would be the exception to it, that you would be treated with a hint of warmth, considering that you were going to spend the rest of your life with him.
but there was no such warmth nor care spared for you. you even doubt it was spared for his mistress too, but at least she seemed to be enjoying herself in his bed, which did break your heart even more. the thought of his infidelity did hurt, but it was to be expected. he is a king, after all. kings to whatever they want. and whatever needs you can't meet, he's surely finding them elsewhere.
yet you still tried. you tried your best to be a good queen, a good wife. despite what you've been told about his first love, about the woman he lost to another man, you attempted to be something he can look forward to at the end of the day.
you wore dresses that were in his favourite colour. sprayed all sorts of perfumes to make sure you smelled nice for him. kept your hair prim and proper so he might notice. wore jewellery that you thought he might find pretty on your skin.
left flowers in his study to brighten his day. sometimes sunflowers, sometimes roses, sometimes daisies. it was trial and constant error, just hoping that he might tell you his favourite ones so you can stick to those, but he never did.
the only reason you stopped doing so was because one of the maids heard him muttering complaints about how the flowers clutter his desk. alright. no flowers then. man needs to work hard and he needs all the space he can get.
but you were determined to brighten his study. so you painted the sunset for him. painted the sunrise, painted the night sky, painted the moon and stars for him, but he never even took the time to even look at one of those paintings. the canvases were left in the corner of the room and thrown away, per his request.
you even put all your violin lessons to use in trying to impress him, but it was all in vain.
read all his favourite books to try and open a fruitful conversation about them, only for him to shut you down when he lashes out and tells you "you will never be her".
a moment of silence passes as the tears we'll in your eyes before he commands you to leave the room because he can "barely hear his own thoughts with all that chattering".
yes, that one did sting. your shoulders dropped and your cheerful expression broke ever so slightly before you hid it with neutrality. you bowed and walked away, as per his demand request.
that was what stopped you from trying. if he found your presence that much of a hinderance to his peace, then you guess there's no point in trying to be friends with him at all.
from there on, you spoke less. in his presence and the presence of others. being a burden to anyone never sat right with you and his words aggriviated that train of thought, so you just tried not to ramble, tried not to fidget too much under the gaze of the lords and ladies and even the servants. kept your thoughts to yourself and only applied what was necessary and what was required of you. kept a blank stare at the ceiling and numbed your mind while you both performed in your monthly mandatory marital duties, waiting for him to jerk his hips and fill your womb with his spend then you'd be on your way.
at some point, you'd even given up those visits under the guise of faint illnesses and you hadn't heard a single word about it from the king. you figured it was because he most likely relished your absence, or didn't notice it at all.
either way, you were tired.
exhausted of giving one hundred percent of yourself and getting less than half in return. you've had to endure it with your parents, with your siblings and now your husband. if you could not be first or even second or third choice in anyone's heart, then you'd rather not be a choice at all.
unbeknownst to you, the moment you pulled away was when he started to notice you.
unbeknownst to you, Simon had gotten so used to your presence outside of his bed chambers that he felt somewhat pinched by the lack of it.
his desk didn't have a new boquet of flowers sitting in their vase anymore. the air lacked a particular sweetness in your absence. something about your scent and the sound of your voice telling him about the little details of your paintings that just... soothed the voices in his head.
Simon didn't want to admit that he found you charming. it felt like he was betraying the woman he loved. the woman who sailed out of the country once she'd gotten married and wished him well in life.
but the fact of the matter is that you were a stark reminder that even a king has responsibilities. you were the reason why he couldn't even have his freedom. yet somehow, after many moons, his freedom started to take shape in the form of your smile.
so much so that he tried to seek it out. eight months after he'd yelled at you and took a knife to you heart.
only to be met with a startled expression and a tense posture one breakfast morning.
he remembers the painful silence of that day in the gardens. the brief glance you cast to your handmaiden as if to say "what the fuck is he doing here???" not to mention the little shrug from your handmaiden telling you that she has absolutely no idea and she's just as shocked as you are before setting your wide eyes on him, a half-chewed biscuit stuck between your delicate fingers. the pure terror in your eyes because this has never happened before and you're unprepared for such an unprecedented event.
this being him coming to see you in the morning. or ever. this being him sitting down with you for breakfast before the painstaking day begins.
he wasn't prepared for the way your fear and confusion twisted something in his chest. even more so when he realized how quiet you suddenly were around him. never speaking more than ten words. never looking directly at his eyes anymore. sitting so stiffly in your chair with your hands on your lap that he couldn't reach out to attempt to comfort you.
you were polite to him, however. he thinks that might be the worst part. if you'd been angry or upset, he might have felt more comfortable to offer apologies and promises of reparation, but he's not sure how to proceed when he's faced with a wall of quiet fear.
he's not deterred, though. he's done being an ass to you and he should start making amends.
[part 2]
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you and simon were fighting.
it was such a dumb argument too, something that you've forgotten already, but of course he didn't. he got irritated at you and yelled, pointing fingers at you calling you stupid and bringing up all the times you've wronged him. he brought up the time when you got the two of you late for a reservation and costed him both time and money, or the time that you almost burned down the house after you fell asleep cooking something.
you were undoubtedly upset, telling him about how he didn't make you feel happy, how you were alone while he was going away for so long on deployments and you're at home with no means to talk to your husband hoping that he's still alive. or that he didn't even appreciate that you'd drag your ass out of bed when he wants some midnight snack because he's a lousy cook and he only likes your food.
the two of you went back and forth for a while, calling eachother out before simon put his foot down, yelling at you.
"i can't bloody stand you, i shouldn't have married you!"
that got you to shut up.
you looked at him in shock, eyes wide as tears slowly fell from your eyes. your lips quivered as you tried to process what he just said, wondering if he was being serious or not. wondering if he knows how much his words basically stabbed you on the chest.
simon, realizing what he just said, snapped out of his anger. knowing that he had fucked up. he tried to say something, but you quickly retreated back to your shared bedroom, locking it. your tears wouldn't stop and you started bawling, your choked sobs can be heard as he approached the door.
you thought that your marriage was over, seeing that he basically regretted his decision in making you his. he yelled at you without hesitation, making you cry and basically was quiet the whole time. you should probably go back to your parents, start separation, and—
your phone pinged, a message from simon. hesitating to open the text, your fingers trembled as you read it, eyes blurry from tears as you try to quiet your sobs.
you cried more, unlocking the door as you fling it open, jumping into simon's arms. he whispered lots of apologies, promising to make it up to you, and to never treat you this way again. you cried in his arms, feeling his tender touches on your hair and your back, hands still trembling. you're sure he's bad at this, that he feels awful for what he did (you could tell he was scared because he saw thay he slowly turned to be like his father and it scares him too).
he promised that he didn't mean what he said earlier, and he didn't regret marrying you. he'll do anything to convince you, he hated hearing your sobs and cries.
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