#infidelity hcs

[tawus]

Hence, the Gojo x Reader Christmas drabble that's about a month late from actual Christmas ☃️🎄🤶❄️

“Hey.”

Your ears pricked. It was a voice you instantly recognised, though his tone had sounded strange.

Looking up, you found Satoru in his genuine surprise to see you up and out this late, bleached in the glow of the street lamps, your lashes clumping with snow.

“Hey!” you exclaimed up at his purple spaghetti outline against the backdrop of the snow-covered street.

“What are you doing out?” he asked, tilting his head and with it the balance of his upstrung white strands.

You bit back your smile at how cute he looked – think a husky puppy with its tall ears spilling to one side.

“I could ask you the same! It’s past midnight, you know?” you pulled your phone out and tapped the screen. “1:24 a.m., in fact. Your mom would be very worried, wouldn’t she–”

Wind shipped around you for a second, scattering snowflakes all around, as Satoru’s warmth suddenly breached your personal space.

“Good thing I don’t have a mom,” he muttered to your forehead, his hands still in his pockets, his height hunched over you. “So what the fuck are you doing alone this late out on Christmas night?”

You laughed at his tone, especially since his pronouncement of ‘fuck’ was coupled with his audible wide grin – not at all as if he wasn’t happy to find you alone this late out on Christmas…

You flicked your face up.

“First tell me why you’re out here! What were you up to?”

It took so much effort to not get crushed and pulverised into mush by the sudden weight of those white bandages that snowed down on you harder than the snow, those bangs of his which keened to you like the tips of icicles, and that grin that seemed more and more pleased with every second of him invading your personal space on this holiest of nights.

Satoru clicked his tongue, his spring smile sloshing sideways.

“It’s Christmas, baby, don’t you know? The one night in the year when everyone’s emotions run high and so do the curses. Besides the Valentine’s Day, of course,” he added after a deliberate pause.

You rolled your eyes. Right. That made sense. In Japan, Christmas wasn’t exactly a family celebration – it was more of a couple’s thing. And you could imagine the amount of tension infesting the air of Tokyo, both positive and negative, tonight of all nights. After all, you’d come out into this snowy night with an emotion, too…

You averted your gaze. Shimmering snowflakes interspersed your sight, falling in endless spiralling strings, shortening your scope.

You looked back up to the spaghetti-shaped snowman before you. Found him smiling, as though casually, but his eye bandages weren’t as good at hiding his true feelings as he thought.

Satoru’s eyes were shot wide under them. They forgot to blink. His irises were fixed in place, fixed on you. Blue and endlessly obsessed. His lashes, graved beneath the bandages, flew apart like fireworks to accommodate his inquisitive stare – the one that was dying to know:

What was on your mind tonight.

Instead of the answer he so craved from your beautiful lips – came from you instead a gesture, a movement, a touch: Satoru sensed your cold fingertips slide into his jacket pocket to find his own fingers. He wanted to warm them so they would never be cold again. He closed his hand around yours, settling you both, hopefully forever, inside his pocket.

With crystal clear eyes you asked of him, “Can I give you a riddle with an impossible answer?”

Satoru’s chest rumbled with his chuckle of anticipation. Ever since meeting you in that burger joint he’d figured you were one for games, for challenges, for riddles. But although you liked to play with puzzles, you were one yourself. And you were blind to it. Blind to the fact that he didn’t care about any artificial man-made puzzles or riddles you posed to him, not any crosswords that you spread before him. You were the only thing he wanted to solve.

“Try me,” he dared you with that air of challenge he knew you loved, trying his best to not betray his secret thrill.

Since, as much as he hated it, despised it, wanted to puke – he was dying to be your superhero. Your Clark Kent. Hell, he wanted to fell the tree of knowledge and make its forbidden fruits roll all around your feet...

So, order him! Tell him what you wanted! How did you want him to tire himself to exhaustion after this already draining night of eradicating curses and curse users?! He would do it all, not a second thought in sight.

“I came out tonight,” you began, your smaller fingers playing a harmonica inside his sensitive palm, “hoping to meet the one person I didn’t think I’d meet tonight...”

Satoru’s smile spread, his chest broadened, breath quickened – and you resumed.

“…who would whisk me away to do one of the clichéest Christmas activities ever – but in the most unexpected way.”

Satoru blinked from under the bandages. You smiled up sweetly, ending your harmonica in his palm on a swift allegro. You stepped forth, obliterating the bit of space he’d left between you for the sake of that modicum of propriety.

“Is my riddle unsolvable…?” you asked him with a feigned plea in your gaze, in your voice, in that supple sheen on your tonight yet unkissed lips.

It hurt. It ached. It fucking burned to not grab you by the shoulders right now and crush your smug lips in a bruising kiss!

“…For fuck’s sake,” Gojo swore from the bottom of his heart, just before your surroundings bent, reality warped, the lights around you imploded, and you got whisked away from the snowy street you were standing on.

Your butt landed on a seat crunchy and soft, whereas your head tumbled backwards uncontrollably until it hit something large and warm and stopped. You blinked your eyes open and found Satoru sitting next to you, his long arm extended behind you. You traced the sleeve of his purple jacket to find his large hand sprawled open behind you where he’d stopped your head from hitting, what appeared to be, the ridged trunk of a live fir tree.

Your eyes widened to see it, your breathing held, as you whipped your head directly up and saw above you the webbing of the tree’s branches. But they weren’t dark, not like arterial veins inside a blood-filled body – but were like constellations of the sky situated too close to you, blinding you, pouring down on you, embalming you.

The support of Satoru’s large palm was no longer there and you fell back onto the crunchy snow, eyes stunned, imagination assaulted and hijacked – you’d never seen such beauty before.

Stars kept shimmering and bursting all above you. The sky was a usually dome but right now each star was the brightest, none ceded its brilliance, each one kept bursting one after the other.

“Where are we?” you managed to mouth in barely a whisper, but Satoru somehow heard you.

He audibly smirked and laid back next to you, crunching some more of the pristine white snow.

“‘Whisk me away to do one of the clichéest Christmas activities ever, but in the most unexpected way,’” he quoted you musically and very much mockingly, word for word.

You looked at him beside you. To your breath-binding shock, his eye bandages weren’t there anymore. His hair lay in loose feathers over his forehead. His cheekbones were reflective and sharp. And his eyes were bare, bared – blue and golden swirling in them, but like oil and water, never truly joining. The gold of the Christmas lights upon the tree above you danced across the gaseous blueness of his eyes, both hues rioting and shimmering immiscibly inside his irises.

How could beauty of such scale be contained inside his eyeballs, you had no clue. But it was there nonetheless, gazing down at you, churning in your direction, addressing you.

The realisation struck you with a mallet. Your breathing froze with the next eddy of warm air. You ran out from under the constellations, the branches of the tree, the magical overhang.

You ran out, leaving Satoru behind, and found a busy public park around you. Filled with couples sitting together, taking pictures, gifting each other gifts and kisses, and those closest to the giant lit up Christmas tree – staring at you in shock.

You looked in their eyes like a frenzied animal, having run out from under the tree all of a sudden, breathing maniacally and looking all around you, before turning at last back up to the tree – to its towering height, your eyelids mellowing, your lips quivering and finally melting into a broad smile.

It was the Daiba Memorial Tree on the Odaiba island – one the most popular Christmas spots visited by couples of December 25th. And this motherfucker, this Gojo…

(you looked pointedly to his spot under the huge illuminated tree)

…had warped you right under it!

As if he felt your searing glare, Satoru emerged from under the tree, lifting its lowest branches and lights with his forearm.

“Very funny,” you muttered, as you now looked around you in embarrassment, at all these couples who glared at you like you were a nutcase out to ruin their picturesque night.

“I think…” Satoru stepped next to you, uncaring of them all, clumps of snow falling off of the back of his thighs, as he cursed his arm curled around your waist and pulled you close to him, with no more intimacy to be desired.

“…I solved the riddle. Merry Christmas, is it?”

You snorted. Shook your head. And finally laid your forehead onto his broad chest.

“Merry Christmas,” you conceded.

[a-fangirltrash]

Fiddleauthor nation when i put Bill third wheeling in my fiddauthor fanart is because i like to see Bill losing and Fidd winning!!! 😔 is like a revenge for all that fanart of Fidd being cucked

[canichangemyblogname]

*grabs popcorn* why did you tag 'the writing did her so dirty' re: taylor kelly?

I finally found the words for this answer. For me, it has everything to do with the way she was written in 5A as if they were domesticating her, partially at the expense of what really made her an interesting character. I’d like to have seen her as that girl everyone loves to hate, but for the right reasons. “She’s a bitch.” Yes, and? “She hurt all these people.” Yes, and? Also… and this is just fan-canon, not something that I think the show would’ve (or could’ve) done, but pansexual Taylor in an established relationship with a woman is my absolute favorite 🫶.

Like… I hate to give buddie fans any points because most of them are committed to misrepresenting the point and a scene, but the whole “if Eddie were a girl, they’d have kissed already” held a bit of water during the Buck x Taylor era, but not because Buck and Eddie are queercoded, but because Buck x Taylor had the same vibe as “two people who met through work and only really have work in common, but dated anyway.” The two of them talked about their work lives more than any couple on the show. I feared that if either of them had a change of job, they’d cease to have anything to talk about, which *would* be the case for two people who are co-worker adjacent, but shouldn’t be the case for a couple. IMHO, Buck x Taylor wasn’t a result of Buck’s comp het, but societal comp het. They also—as I mentioned previously—seemed to stifle a bit of Taylor’s passionate, ambitious, career-above-everything characterization for a little bit there in 5A, and she kinda simply became Buck’s GF. There was a degree of domestication for her character there, and I hated that for her. 

Also… 911 honest opinion? I think Buck and Ali should have had a longer arc. 🫣 More on that below:

It really seemed like they had been narratively setting something up between Buck and Ali, given how the show paralleled Buck + Ali and Maddie + Chim with that one outro monologue about how sometimes the best things start with second chances. Because that monologue that introduced us to Buck x Ali had been all about “second chances,” I genuinely had assumed that she was coming back and that they’d work out their issues. Their relationship also felt narratively weighty because of *why* Buck chose to date her. He had a choice between old habits (re: Taylor Kelly) or making his happiness (re: the Buck Actually theme). They also chose an apartment together. Plus, their “break up” did not feel very final. Something about it felt unresolved.

Cast contracts permitting, if *I* had been on this project, I would have written Buck & Ali as tentatively working on their differences post-injury. When their relationship does end, I’d explore the concept that sometimes, genuinely liking one another—or love—is not enough (which I think would have been great to explore after the Daniel reveal, as love was not enough for a happy Buckley household). Ali & Buck may have progressed past health scares and job fears, but find themselves on two different paths in life (with her job and dreams taking her one way and his keeping him at the 118). Here we could also incorporate Buck’s Big Mistake™️ that we saw in his relationship with Taylor: keeping/hiding things from his partner and overcompensating for that out of guilt to keep the relationship. Maybe that something is family related (re: Daniel) or maybe job related (revisit old wounds that weren’t actually healed during the sniper arc, an emergency he expressly doesn’t tell Ali about for fear of her reaction). Hell, it could be Taylor-related (with Taylor, someone he has a previous dynamic with, “being Lucy” in this situation), if you really want, although I’m personally disinclined to taking this hypothetical story in that direction (mostly because I hate cheating arcs, but also because I think Buck and Taylor work better as friends).

I also think Buck could have still grown into the person he is now through this hypothetical of events instead of through shorter-term relationships.  Reasons I think this turn of events could have also worked for Buck’s growth:

We would still get Buck 3.0 seeking out therapy after being crushed, being dumped, and being assigned desk duty. Maddie points out that he’s not handling it well, and he takes it upon himself to do something about that, just like in canon. Maybe later in that season or early next, we find out that Ali had reached out, and Buck reaches back out to her following his conversation with Abby and some therapy, not wanting to leave things unsaid and knowing he hides his true feelings from people. Maybe he tells Ali about him wanting to work on himself and start again. This means that, yes, he’d spend season 3 single before getting back together in early season 4 to “try again” and “see where it goes.”

However, Buck will still be lonely at this time, now essentially having bought into the comp-het idea that part of the reason for our loneliness is not being partnered (just like in canon, but he’d be partnered instead of single during this). If work or a difference in life pulls Buck and Ali apart, we’d still get Buck dealing with this gaping loneliness. It’d be less of a “He hasn’t put himself out there since Abby” and more a “He’s in a relationship and still feels alone.” Maddie and Chim invite Josh to poker night not because of Buck’s “tragic singleness,” but because Ali couldn’t come (which means we still get everyone’s favorite Buck x Josh joke). The scene will lay the ground for the relationship issues he’ll run into in late 4B. Something like, “Buck never gets out of the house” or “He has a girlfriend, but no one would know,” while Josh tells him to be glad he’s got someone because it’s “rough out there” (all while still foreshadowing Josh’s later gay bashing that episode). And this hints at an element of compulsory heterosexuality to this scenario: Buck doesn’t just feel the need to make the relationship work because he wants to be there for people, but because he feels a need to be partnered. His parents are visiting and they’re always disappointed in him, but they’ve met Ali and they’re happy Buck’s partnered. So, he stays. He reads the love languages book (absolutely quackery of a theory, imho) for some ideas on relationship growth and making it work and he stays. He expresses that he really wants this relationship to be successful and meaningful (and that’s why he’s trying the self-help book), and he stays. But maybe we get the Buck equivalent of “my relationship feels like a performance.” Maybe Buck expresses some discomfort with what are essentially traditional aspects/dynamics of het relationships (something the 5 love languages is centered around). Things like, “I want to provide, but I also want to be taken care of.” We’ll also get a few scenes that suggest he and Ali don’t know each other well (like not knowing what to get each other for special occasions, and some conversations between Buck and Bobby). But, otherwise, Buck & Ali’s interactions with one another are sweet and romantic. He goes on a successful date with Ali instead of Monica. He also goes on a successful double-date with Monica x Albert, with Ali as his gf. Ali’s genuine affection for Buck really shines when Buck runs into his season 4 family issues, and she gets along with everyone in Buck’s life, including Maddie, Chim and Albert, and even his parents. Their personal lives will seem to go strong because it’s the way their work lives interfere with their personal lives that will drive the wedge between them. Red’s warning about being too consumed by the job and how hard this is to compete with swirl around in Buck’s head the whole relationship. Buck fears that much like Red, he’ll never be able to make it work.

Eventually, however, we would get Buck figuring out that he doesn’t have to stay with someone just to stay with someone. (“I’m not happy. And if this isn’t a healthy relationship, then maybe the best thing for me to do is be the one who leaves.”) So, in early 4B when issues he thought they’d worked through rise again and maybe Ali discovers that Buck’s keeping something from her (I’m leaning toward him purposefully keeping aspects of his job from her, like not telling her about the sniper [among other things], once more revealing how Buck puts other’s comfort above his personal life and happiness and again reinforcing the idea that Buck’s career is too “consuming” and too “dangerous” for some partners, but also revealing that he doesn’t trust Ali not to run again -> but this leads Ali to not trust that Buck won’t keep important things from her and also leads her to realize that he will ice her out of important parts of his life), Buck decides, “I do like you, but I don’t think this is going to work out.” He then spends all of season 5 single, and it would be cool to see a “I’m working on myself, I want to be single” storyline, which would factor well into his further self-improvement arc during the interim-Captain storyline. He will then still meet Natalia in season 6 and they’ll be drawn together and apart for many of the same reasons as in canon.

But crucially, this means that I’d have kept Buck and Taylor friends in seasons 4 & 5 because 1.) I think the men of 911 do not have enough women in their life platonically outside blood relations, 2.) I found their dynamic *before* they started dating much more compelling, and 3.) them making Taylor Buck’s GF seemed to stifle her character a little, so she was less the ambitious, passionate reporter and more just… a sweet girl. In my hypothetical, she’s still there in seasons 4-5, and ever the go-getting reporter. Maybe she has less screen time, but she’s still there. Many of the work-related scenes between her and Buck would and could (and should) remain. Anything related to investigations and her reporting would absolutely stay. I think that Taylor could neatly fit into a similar role that Josh does with Maddie. She’s blunt, no holds barred. He tells her about his family, roommate, and relationship issues in S4, and she always gives him the tough answer. She confides in him when the pandemic becomes too much. They team up for the hit-n-run investigation and the treasure hunt (Ali also joins them). She is his friend—and maybe one of the only ones outside the 118 family— who is there when his best friend, Eddie, gets shot (but clearly—and crucially—not in the same way Maddie is there for Chim or Karen is there for Hen because she’s *not* Buck’s GF or a potential LI, and also not in the same way that Ali is *not* there for Buck, given Buck goes to lengths to hide this development from Ali, like putting on his vest in secret). She is still hard on him for his “neediness” and “impulsivity.”

IMHO—not too much changes between them. There’d be fewer scenes between them, sure. They wouldn’t kiss. Some of their more emotional conversations would be less couple-y, like the coffee date where he talks about his family. (And I personally love the idea that this whole time they’re friends, Taylor is dating a woman and Buck has met this woman or heard about her, but that is, again, just fan-canon.) Also, we’d miss that scene of Taylor in her black lingerie (sorry lesbians) and Buck in that grey A-line Tee (sorry to me), but not much is otherwise changing. Hell, even the way things eventually break down doesn’t need to change (minus the issue with Buck asking Taylor to move in after he and Lucy kissed). Buck will still learn that he can’t fix everything because Taylor will still prioritize her career over her friendship. Plus, a friendship crashing and burning is its own beast, and one that would teach Buck that it’s not just in his romantic relationships that he gives too much of himself. (Cough, cough, a lesson he could learn with Eddie.)

Also, with this breakdown coming so soon after breaking things off with his gf, his best friend damn near dying, and his sister running away, Buck will go to lengths to try and fix the issues in his friendship, lengths like going to Oklahoma to support her (a trip where he meets her GF in my fan-canon). He wasn’t enough to inspire Abby to stay. He couldn’t make it work with Ali. Eddie fucking got shot. Maddie’s run away. And now a difference in world views has put him and a friend at odds with each other (something that *seems* fixable). So, he’ll try his damndest to fix things, desperately wanting this to work out as everything else goes haywire. “I can’t lose a friend, too.” “You were there for me after Eddie got shot, I want to be here for you now.” “Everything else is a mess; I want to help where I’m needed.” No more losing people. Except, it doesn’t work. Meaning, Buck would still come to understand himself and his localized view of himself relative to others vs. Taylor’s more universal view of herself as their friendship falls apart.

This also all still leaves Tommy to be different compared to Buck’s past romantic relationships, most of which happened on his partner’s terms rather than his own. It also still leaves Taylor in the series and her impact on Buck remains without half-nuking her character. Buck also maintains much of his character growth, as I will always maintain that Taylor was very important to Buck’s character growth.

[impulsivemuses]

Yeah so, remember how I said earlier that Percy tends to be desperate and force relationships for the sake of trying to have people like him? Well... there's a flaw to him that I really think that I should make aware... Percy tried to get with Jeremiah even when Jeremiah already has a girlfriend. He was so desperate for love and attention and just anything to make him feel alive that he would be willing to have Jeremiah cheat on his girlfriend for the sake of feeling another's touch in a regard that WASN'T friendship like.

Percy didn't tell his girlfriend or tell Jeremiah his ACTUAL feelings for him. He just... tried to sneak a kiss or hold hands with Jeremiah even when they've only known each other for FOUR MONTHS mind you. I think after Percy was kicked out of his house, he saw Jeremiah's allowance of letting Percy stay at their shared apartment as a offer into their relationship or something... but, Percy was too much of a fucking coward to ACTUALLY kiss Jeremiah or hold his hands... afraid he'd get kicked out AGAIN for fucking something up good.

[ulircursed]

[ Grannvale ] [ Whisper ] "I heard something about you tonight, you know." Deirdre cannot keep the knowing grin from her face as she dances close to Andrei. The knowledge has powered the joy of her evening and even just thinking about it has kept her spirits high. It is a beautiful thing.

She leans in close to his ear and tries to whisper. It is an attempt at giving him some privacy in the matter but the longer she speaks on it, the more excited she becomes. And the more excited she becomes, the harder it is to control her volume. "My dear, dear friend, Lord Naesala, told me that the two of you accompanied each other to this ball! I am overjoyed for you both. My two best friends! Together!"

Lady Deirdre asks him for a dance, and of course, it would be Andrei’s pleasure.

(It is the correct answer, like clockwork. Even if they did not have any sort of personal relationship, his answer will not, cannot, ever change.)

Still, he can’t quite hide his surprise when Lady Deirdre leans in, the excitement in her tone not enough to erase the accusation that would come with such a claim. Perhaps she does not think of things that way, but the infamous stories of Duke Victor come to mind.

For the first time since the situation began, he thinks of Antares, of his station. He is, had been, the Duke of Yngvi.

(That life is in the past now. Is that enough to justify how easily he'd changed his life in the present?)

"I— I understand that it is... not the most appropriate of me," he says nervously, "To indulge in such dalliances."

(His blood, his position, had invited nothing but lies from the one he'd thought might bring about the renascence of the Yngvi bloodline. It's only here, when his bloodline no longer mattered at all, that he'd seen, in Naesala's eyes, something he could trust. Could that be enough?)

Andrei swallows hard. "It did make me happy," he says, barely above a whisper himself, "Being here with him."

[xmileshigh]

Dr. Sawyer Reid | 39 | Surgeon | Mother | Wife

if you’re hearing TRUST ISSUES by OLIVIA O'BRIEN playing, you have to know DR SAWYER REID (SHE/HER; CIS FEMALE) is near by! the THIRTY-NINE year old SURGEON/CONSULTANT has been in denver for, like, HER WHOLE LIFE BEFORE MOVING AWAY FOR SCHOOL, BUT GOT MARRIED AND NOW SHE’S BACK AFTER SEPARATING. they’re known to be quite PREOCCUPIED, but being BENEVOLENT seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble SOPHIA BUSH. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those WRINKLED SCRUBS FROM BEING SLEPT IN, CHAOTIC STACKS OF BOXES STILL PACKED MONTHS AFTER THE MOVE, TIRED RESIGNATION vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the THE WOODS OF WASHINGTON PARK long enough!

tw: separation, infertility, infidelity

Sawyer was born and raised in Denver, and enjoyed her life there. She only left for school at Columbia University, but the many years in New York had her enjoying her life there.

She met her spouse in her final year of residency. The spouse had a young child and Sawyer fell for both of them. They got married after 3 years of dating and cohabitating.

Sawyer was told shortly after marriage, because of PCOS, she would most likely never have children of her own making. They wanted to grow their family so they began the process of adoption. They adopted a preschool child.

Life between the couple and their two children was good but Sawyer's career had taken a backseat to motherhood and being a wife. She didn't need to work with her spouse's income, so most of the time, she didn't.

Once both of her children were older and out on their own, she was dug deep into her empty nest emotions. She chose to go back to work, giving herself something other than the absence of her children to bide her time.

In recent years, Sawyer has been very engrossed in work, leaving her spouse to their own devices more often than not. Her spouse cheated and shattered Sawyer completely.

She left her spouse and job in New York and returned home to regroup and hopefully heal.

Wanted Connections

spouse (35-50) they are separated bc wc cheated

eldest child (age) from a previous relationship of spouse wc

older child (age) adopted by Sawyer and spouse wc

childhood friend (age) gutted when Sawyer left for college

[pnkb1tch-archive]

okay, finally finished typing up the behemoth that is arlo's acting career (childhod trauma teehee!). eventually i'll do a write up on the specificities of arlo's trauma and his relationship w his sisters, but for now this has the most important things regarding arlo's history outlined. under the cut for a mobile friendly version.

Born on August 17th, 1997 to Veronica Thompson, nee Hughes, and Derek Thompson, Charlie "Arlo" Finn Thompson never stood a chance. Veronica, a former Elite London model & former favorite WAG, always saw a future for herself and her children that was covered in glitz and gold. Arlo's elder sister Tiffany was a Gerber baby, and the face of Pampers by the tender age of three. It goes without saying that Arlo was thrust into the limelight soon thereafter without so much as a second thought, with Derek, Veronica's former agent, taking up that very same role for his own son.

From diaper commercials to branding deals with Joules, Boden & the like, the Thompson family name very quickly became a household one, a name that when spoken aloud rung of success and good breeding. Arlo stayed a child model for a good portion of his early years, tottering around after his parents as they lavished their darling son with affection in the presence of others. They had him and Tiffany tag along for countless parties, charity event after charity event, Derek & Veronica the very picture of domestic bliss, their children shining examples of good parenting. Of course, when the lights went out and the cameras were nowhere to be seen, it was a different question altogether. A coke habit carried over from her modeling days and an eating disorder to match, Veronica's attention was rarely on her children , delegating the role of mother to the trusted family nanny Jen (whom the media didn't find out about until the cheating scandal, miraculously enough). Derek was a workaholic, the agent of several other young talents, constantly with his nose buried in paperwork and his eyes glued to the prize (re: his bank account). 

Derek and Veronica weren't abusive in the way the media is used to portraying the parents of child stars, they never forced Tiff or Arlo to work when they didn't want to, they were never physically abusive and they hardly spoke to their children enough to be verbally abusive. No, their abuse lied within neglect, the utter lack of consideration for their progeny when they weren't making them headlines or making them money. It got worse for Tiff around the time that Arlo turned seven and was cast in his first acting role, the younger brother character on a BBC family sitcom, "Our Family", that ended up taking the nation by storm the following five years. Arlo's character quickly became a fan favorite, with his button nose and big blue eyes, and of course, his point of origin (re; fans of Veronica). 

The show ended on its sixth season, a few months before Arlo turned 12 and a few months after Tiff had turned 15. The following three years are incredibly successful ones for Arlo, but tumultuous for Tiff. With his seasoned past and effectively endless CV, Arlo scored several on-screen leading roles, as well as a contract with Disney that resulted in two DCOMS and two more sitcoms. Around this time, the youngest Thompson, Bambi, had turned five, and was following in the footsteps of her elder siblings. Unfortunately, going through puberty with absentee parents and the baggage of being a child star weighing her down, things started to roll downhill very quickly for Tiff. Tiff was officially the least successful Thompson, and as the gossip rags put it, the 'least attractive' as well. Her self-esteem takes a turn for the worst, and she has no one there to take care of her.

At age 18, Tiff starts experimenting with the pill bottles she finds in her mother's bedside drawer, eventually discovering evidence of her mother's affair. In the following weeks, Tiff leaks the story to the papers, "former WAG rekindles flame with famed footy star—while still married?" The press eats the Thompsons alive, former nanny Jen coming forward as well regarding Veronica's coke habit and both her && Derek's child neglect. The five week whirlwind ends in Tiff's public overdose, which she just barely survives. The Thompsons retreat into the shadows, "to heal", as Derek tells the press, still attempting some semblance of damage control. 

The following three years find Veronica and Derek divorced, and Tiffany having cut off her parents completely. Now 19, Arlo enters the world of acting once again, with Derek still as his agent. Despite their family's marred reputation, Arlo's talent and history thankfully speaks for him, and he's able to land several smaller roles in assorted dramas and sitcoms that eventually build back his reputation enough to where instead of attending open calls, he's being invited to audition for roles personally. 

From age 20 to 23 he stars in a superhero trilogy as the titular character, "Firesong", winning "Best Hero" award for his performance at the MTV Movie && TV awards three years in a row. At age 24 he decides he wants to branch out and try new roles, break out from the typecast that he's been stuck with since effectively age seven (the golden boy, boy-next-door type). He and his father fight about it, with his dad wanting him to "play it safe" as to not risk the success he's seen thusfar the past three years. Arlo tries reasoning with his father by opening up to him, explaining how his whole life, his career has been a source of depression for him, and how if he keeps playing these roles, he's afraid he'll never be able to escape the painful memories that come along with playing them. 

Unable to sympathize with his son for even once in his life, Derek responds to Arlo's pleas like an agent would, instead of a father, still prioritizing a paycheck over his son's overall wellbeing. This is the final straw for Arlo, who fires his father. Derek insists that Arlo will be nothing without him, and that if he goes down this role, he'll never land a successful role again in his life—thus, Arlo not only fires his father, but fully cuts him off, Like Tiff did all those years ago. The next three years are a whirlwind of success for Arlo. He takes the leading role in an upcoming A24 movie, "Serendipity", one so avant garde and raw and real that upon seeing the trailer, Derek blows up Arlo's phone, insisting that his son's going to make a laughing stock of the family name. Of course, no such thing happens, and Arlo's performance is so emotional and captivating that he wins an Oscar for Best Actor that year. After his Oscar success, he scores another leading role in an HBO original, an adaptation of a cult-classic fantasy novel series, "Court of Deception", that's taken the internet by storm. For this performance alone, he earns himself two Emmy noms.

During filming of the second season of COD, Arlo takes up songwriting, avoiding therapy but still trying to find ways to cope with his childhood trauma. In the time he has off filming, he releases an album under the name "The Sound", gaining himself a cult following with his indie alternative music. The following summer when filming has wrapped for the third and final season of COD, he and The Sound go on tour, the last show on Arlo's 26th birthday that August. 

Between the time he fires his father up until present day, he becomes close with both of his sisters, who are also suffering from the aftermath of their parents neglect. Tiff, now 29, is a successful museum curator, and is going to art school in London. Bambi, only 19, still lives with Veronica, but is slowly freeing herself from their parents clutches, and seeing a therapist weekly that's paid for by Arlo.

[edwardallenpoe]

i'm sorry what

the "canon isn't real we make our own rules" to "i am begging you people to revisit the source material" pipeline

[civicmuses]

Things Jason did to Marsha while they were dating:

Mocked her interests/personality

Assaulted her repeatedly (did it pretty badly when she tried to break up with him)

Cheated on her repeatedly

Criticized her appearance

Made remarks about her father and sister

Pressured her into doing things she didn't want to do

Frequently showered her with (backhanded) praise and gifts

Refused to let her leave the relationship

[spongeyspot]

Toxic Traits/Red Flags HC

Characters: Arthur, Javier, John, Lenny, Dutch, Micah, Charles, Sean, Hosea, Mary Beth, Abigail, Tilly, Karen, Sadie, Molly

(A/N): WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT THIS DAWG. I LOVED @cowboyfromh3ll 's take on that shit sm and these hcs have literally been swimming in my head for weeeeeeeeks bro

Edit: some of these were kinda hard because there's not a lot of bad in the characters themselves... I had trouble with specifically Charles, Lenny, Mary Beth, and Tilly. Sorry if they may be OOC. IM EVEN DOING THE GIRLS BECAUSE IM IN A SILLY GOOFY MOOD

Content Warning: female reader, jealousy, self hate, narcissism, gaslighting, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, mentions of murder and violence, mentions of infidelity, mentions of sex (Sean, Micah, Sadie kind of) (MINORS DNI)

Not edited btw

The boys

Arthur Morgan

- Honestly, I feel like Arthur would have this insane, crippling fear of rejection, especially when it comes to dating. - His self hate/deprecation plays a huge part in this, and quite honestly, him and Mary not working out probably also probably contributed to it. - Very emotionally distant. Has a hard time expressing his feelings openly due to that same fear of rejection.🚩 - Bottles shit up until he feels like he's gonna explode 🚩 - His impulse control is almost nonexistent 🚩 - Will resort to saying things that he doesn't even mean. He just says things when he's angry🚩 - Will hate himself even more if he makes you cry - Won't hesitate to run away from camp for a while to cool off. This isn't necessarily a bad thing per se, but he usually takes his time away to overthink the fuck out of everything - Prone to acting violent. (not to someone he cared about, but to other people, absolutely)Also due to his poor impulse control. 🚩

Javier Escuella

- Has a flirty personality, but around women, it just seems to get worse. 🚩 - Tells you you're overreacting if you tell him it bothers you🚩 - Overprotective of you. Always has his eyes on you, and practically orders you to stay in camp where it's safe. - As if you step one foot outside the camp without him, you'll spontaneously drop dead - Jealous asf. Are you laughing at what Bill just said? It wasn't even that funny. Why are you standing so close to him? You should be at least 6 feet away from him, not 5 and a half. 🚩 - Also has a problem with how you dress sometimes. God forbid your shirt is ever low cut. He'd probably ask you to change. 🚩 - And if you get offended or upset, he'll lie and tell you it's because he can't stop staring at your chest, and he'd like to focus of whatever it was he was doing.🚩

John Marston

- Stubborn as all hell. Doesn't listen to anybody for anything.🚩 - Commitment issues up the ass - Says mean things out of anger and sometimes actually means them 🚩 - Won't apologize half the time. He thinks kissing it better actually makes it better 🚩 - Regularly ignores his own bad habits instead of actually facing them 🚩 - Will run away from problems like Arthur, but worse. He'd be gone a really long time.🚩 - Gets annoyed with you if you get angry at him for leaving and staying away for a while. He told you he needed space, didn't he? What else do you need from him?? 🚩 - Ignorantly clueless half the time. Head empty, no thoughts.

Lenny Summers

- Not assertive in the slightest, and usually, respectfully, keeps to himself. -Takes orders without verbal complaints but inside he's annoyed as fuck 🚩 - Even if he hates doing something he'll probably just go "Okay" and do it anyway, and he'll sulk all day afterwards - Refuses to tell you what's wrong because he thinks he'll sound childish.🚩 - If you push the issue, he might snap at you out of annoyance like "Would you just let it be??" - Immediately feels guilty and shameful, and he'll hide away until he's ready to apologize and face you again - Also kind of a know-it-all... He'll correct you a LOT. It would get annoying 🚩 - Would blatantly tell you you're wrong before correcting you🚩 - Not necessarily an asshole about it but he still tends to get under your skin sometimes

Dutch Van Der Linde

- The BIGGEST Narcissist you'll ever meet.🚩 -He loses another piece of his mental state with every breath he takes. Slowly but surely losing his mind.🚩 - King of gaslighting🚩 - How could you even think that about him? He could never do anything wrong! You must be crazy...🚩 - Tries to recite his "pretty words" from Evelyn Miller to try and sound smarter than he actually is 🚩 - Expects you to just feed his ego without him actually doing anything to earn it🚩 - Will try to correct you even when he's wrong🚩 - Refuses to admit he's wrong. He can never be wrong. That word isn't even in his vocabulary unless he's talking about literally anyone but himself🚩

Micah Bell

- Where do I even start with this guy - Not above putting his hands on you if he doesn't get his way. Let's be honest here.🚩 - Mega Narccisist, almost as bad as Dutch 🚩 - Will brag and share every sexual encounter you've ever had with him like he's talking about the weather🚩 - VERY prone to Violence 🚩 - NO impulse control. Murders people for fun.🚩 - Backhanded and borderline abusive compliments 24/7 "You'd look so good if you weren't so fucking fat..." 🚩 - Selfish lover. Thinks just sticking it in will do the trick, and it does, for him at least.🚩 - Little to no affection. What are you? His girlfriend? Wait...🚩 -If he actually does show you affection, and you react in surprise, he'll tell you to go fuck yourself, and that that's the last time he ever does anything nice for you.🚩

Charles Smith

- Impossible to read sometimes - Like Arthur, Charles tends to keep a lot of his emotions bottled up until he feels like he's gonna pop 🚩 - Like most of the men in the Van Der Linde gang, Charles is also prone to acting violently. I mean, he started a bar fight with a fucking chair, and he fights in street fighting rings, let's be real for a second.🚩 - He's incredibly quiet and reserved a lot of the time, and sometimes you just assume that he's listening to you when you talk, but a lot of the time, he's lost in his own thoughts. - Will do everything anyone asks him to at the expense of his own free time and energy, and sometimes he works himself to exhaustion just to try and please everyone.🚩 - In doing so, he sometimes doesn't have time for himself at the end of the day. It also seems like you spend time together less and less as the days go on. - If he ever got himself hurt and you tried to help him, he'd decline any help with anything to save his own pride. The last thing he needs is you thinking he's weak. 🚩 - Extremely Overprotective. Like to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anybody you asked him to🚩

Sean Macguire

- An Alcoholic🚩 - horny 99% of the time, but half that time he probably has whiskey dick. Still asks you to try but doesn't understand that it's like trying to play pool with a rope... - If he can manage to be sober enough to actually get it up, and you're not in the mood, he'd get pissy and annoyed with you for "wasting his boner" 🚩 - Will probably also brag about having sex with you to everyone🚩 - Needy as all hell - Bro sulks on purpose - Low key loves the attention you give him when you continue to ask him what's wrong, but he never actually tells you and constantly says "I'm fine..." or "It's nothing..." 🚩 - But then sighs dramatically and continues sulking and dragging his feet so you keep giving him more attention 🚩

Hosea Matthews

- Ignores his physical health until he's practically dying. You've told him to get that cough looked at for literal years and he just says "I will" and does nothing 🚩 - sometimes talks to you as if you're a child especially if he's around Dutch -low key gaslights you sometimes 🚩 - and he says it with such a gentle tone, its hard to catch it 🚩

The girls

Mary Beth Gaskill

- Daydreams way too much - Likes to live in her romance novel fantasy land rather than face reality 🚩 - Cries a lot - Tries to be angry but can't help but cry instead - If crying makes you feel bad for her, she'll probably do it on purpose so you comfort her and give her attention🚩 -If you're in a fight, she'll turn on the crocodile tears to get you to stop being angry with her or whatever it is you're arguing about.🚩

Abigail Roberts

- She can be verbally abusive if she's pushed far enough 🚩 - Holds in a lot of her emotions🚩 - Neglectful of her own personal needs to make sure you or Jack are fully provided or cared for🚩 - a lot of the time, when she's upset with you, you're probably given the cold shoulder and the silent treatment - incredibly protective. Not necessarily a bad thing, but she can sometimes be super overbearing.

Tilly Jackson

- Tells it how she sees it, sometimes accidentally sounding a lot colder than she means to 🚩 - Too sarcastic for her own good 🚩 - Laughs a little too much sometimes when you tell a joke, and you can often tell it's actually incredibly fake🚩 - gets irritated really easily, especially if she's bothered while doing her chores. The last thing she needs is Grimshaw on her ass again.🚩 - irritable a lot of the time, unintentionally becoming short or snapping at you - like john, she also believes that kissing it better is better than actually apologizing

Karen Jones

- An alcoholic 🚩 - picks fights with you for fun, finds it entertaining to see how red your face can get from anger 🚩 - Screaming matches are a regular occurance between you guys, and she starts it almost every time 🚩 - Pretty jealous when it comes to the opposite sex🚩 - Has self doubt and believes that she can't give you everything a man probably could

Sadie Adler

- The nosiest woman in America. No chill. She reads everyone's mail. - Makes a lot of loose threats 🚩 - Anger issues🚩 - Low impulse control🚩 - Can be a little too rough sometimes 🚩 - If she's upset with you, she'll either yell or storm off. Sometimes both. 🚩 -(She tends to walk away a lot more often because she's actuall self aware that her anger issues are a problem) - She'd never admit that to you though.

Molly O'Shea

- Even more jealous than Javier🚩 - Glares at and envies anyone you talk to that isn't her🚩 - Has immaginary conversations with people in her head🚩 - Rubbing her hands together when the real life conversations are following the script she had planned out in her brain - Needs constant reassurance - "D'you even love me anymore?!"🚩 - Overthinks everything 🚩 - Paranoid as hell about infidelity - Gets mad at you when she dreams about you cheating on her🚩

[chloeangelic]

seeking what is desirable masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader Explicit, 18+ No use of y/n Read on AO3

Series summary: Albert Camus said that "A man is always a prey to his truths. Once he has admitted them, he cannot free himself from them,” and it made me wonder how we justify romantic affairs — if we are free when we enter them in secrecy, or only truly free when we have burned the bridges we ran over to reach the arms of the other.

Warnings: Infidelity, smut, drama, no outbreak AU, age gap, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, neglectful, toxic and messy relationships, dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, size kink, family issues, loneliness, domesticity, marriage and divorce, fluff, emotional volatility, jealousy, fighting, soulmates AU, possessiveness, dick from a man you wish was your father, HEA, breeding kink, pregnancy, toxic fighting and conflict, resentment, marriage and babies™️

All chapters can be found HERE

Thanks to @5oh5 for chapter summaries and @papipascalispunk for being my second pair of eyes🤍

~

🌙 Spotify playlist - mostly Toronto RnB vibes

🤎 Preview

🐻 Joel's physicality HC's drabble

⚡️ Stracciatella meme

🐞 Moodboard by @noxturnalpascal

[sl4sh3rsub]

patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)

patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions

a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention

if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card

show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him

if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night

his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent

he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation

yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?

he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(

he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm

you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust

after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship

something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask

whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view

patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<

he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)

if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day

your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight

patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone

he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending

he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.

if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3

despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties

you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)

if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera

he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing

patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway

if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock

patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly

patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease

you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare

get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles

while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired

if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear

when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you

he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you

imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries

expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine

although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle

in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity

if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat

whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat

when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick

patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit

it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<

patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3

bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom

mtf hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>

if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

[outoftheseine]

- THOMAS SHELBY FIC RECS PART 2 -

alexa, play jealous girl by lana del rey | note: some fics are 18+ so minors DNI. be aware of canon trigger warnings (blood, violence, death, guns, etc)

main masterlist | part one

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

the royal wedding of small heath • thomas shelby x fem!reader part 2

↳ by @sneakyblinders (fluff, slightly explicit)

protection • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @writers-hes (angst, death, mentions of abuse)

romantic escape | romantic capture • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @anonymooseforever007 (fluff, slight angst, overprotective!thomas)

immune to his charms • thomas shelby x american!reader

↳ by @readyouforfilth (love their banter so far, can't wait for updates)

happy birthday, my love • dad!thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @teenwolf-theoriginals (so so so fluffy)

safe with me • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @kgficz

a man with a reputation • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @kadwrites (arranged marriage trope)

your house | our home • thomas shelby x wife!reader

↳ by @vintunnavaa (angst, fluff, mentions of infidelity, looved it)

the cigarette girl • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @huntingingoodwill (very angsty, thomas is mean)

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC'S

i got you • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @madame-wilsonn (panic attacks, hurt/comfort, mentions of a loved one's death, fluff)

gentle love • thomas shelby x wife!reader

by @vintunnavaa (fluff)

what could've been • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @toms-cherry-trees (angst)

love is sweeter than vengeance • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @pherelesytsia (angst, blood, death)

the secret garden • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @celticmelody (very angsty, domestic violence, blood)

the layers of thomas shelby • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @theonewiththefanfics (angst, mild fluff)

november • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @moral-terpitude (fluff, a little angst)

you reap what you sow • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @springsteens (mentions of abortion, angst, fluff)

ain't she sweet • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @look-at-the-soul (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, injuries)

love will keep you up all night • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @look-at-the-soul (very fluffy)

girl dad • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @runnning-outof-time (fluff, fluff, fluff)

men with blue eyes and dark hair • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @dandelionprints (angst, blood, name calling, fluff)

little you's and i's • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @multific (fluff)

a small mishap • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @gypsy-girl-08 (mention of violence, injuries, fluff)

thomas shelby as a father • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @fanficwrit3r (very fluffy)

wailing teapots • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @oddaodd (angst but happy ending, mentions of abuse)

as if you are still here • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @speckledemerald (so. much. angst)

do you get déjà vu • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @calummss (fluff and humour)

venus rising • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @ay0nha (angst, this one is 🤌)

the sapphire ring • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @kitixie (angst, but fluff)

the brother that always wins • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @runnning-outof-time (fluff)

business and dates • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @princessofmarvel (fluff and slight angst)

[intheheartoftheking]

Painting The Roses Red

Jacaerys Velaryon/Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader

canon divergent, mentions of war/ptsd, a lot! of fluff, yearning, forbidden love, mentions of death and infidelity, dragonrider!reader

summary: HEAVILY INSP by this HC from @enviedear Reader is restless from nightmares of the war and Jace soothes her back to sleep by reading stories of Targaryen History while reminiscing on their past. Jace wonders how their story will fit into the future of Targaryen History.

word count: 1,566

a/n: It started off short because I was inspired by @enviedear 's head cannon (THIS ONE IS FOR YOU BABE) about Jace reading you to sleep with Targaryen History but then it became a whole thing of its own since I crave fluffy Jace and I love forbidden love. I want to write the wedding so pls let me know if a part 2 with memories of their wedding or any other of their war adventures would be interesting.

You threw off your sweat-drenched sheets and found solace in the cold breeze through the window. Your sleep had been restless all through the war, and you thought once it was over, you would finally have some peaceful rest, but the fear had settled into your bones, and you would never be the same again. Tears welled in your eyes as the memories of the past two years replayed in your mind. You didn't even realize that soft sobs had begun to leave your body as you stared out at the sea; however, Jacearys did notice. His coarse hand wrapped around your wrist, startling you out of your trance as he pulled you into his chest. "We're safe, you're safe," he whispered into your hair, rubbing soft circles on your back. This had become a routine for both of you since you found yourselves back at Kings Landing, and both of you constantly had to pull one another out of the distant memories of war. "I know," you murmured, "but that still doesn't change the chill in my bones and the fear in my heart as I watch you die over and over again." you whimpered as he tightened his grip on you. "Jacearys, you almost died. I fished you out of the water and watched you come and go from consciousness. The maesters believed you dead." He sighed. "But I am alive, and our victories will be written in the histories. The greens will only grow to be a stain, but a footnote in the rich Targaryen history." He pulled away from you to grab a large leather-bound book containing the tales of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters wives before settling back on your bed. "Come," he beckoned you over softly, "we shall be the rulers our descendants look upon with admiration and seek guidance from just as we look to our ancestors."

You shook your head, offering him a sad smile as you climbed alongside him, adjusting yourself in his chest. His voice was a lullaby that warded off the fear that threatened to destroy your peace, and with the vibrato that escaped his chest, you could feel yourself being pulled by sleep. Your eyes are heavy as you cling to every word of the stories of Rhaenys and Aegon. As Jace looks down to see you opposing your rest, he aids the sleep process by entwining his hand in your hair, softly running his fingers along your scalp. 

You can feel yourself losing your battle, and Jace knows he's won as he hears your soft snores in his embrace. He looks down at your peaceful face in admiration and sadness. It was rare to find you so calm. It had been years since he had seen you so happy and carefree. 

The war had taken so much from you, your home, your family, and most importantly, it shook your lineage. You were a firstborn daughter, a lady created for more domestic pursuits, the beauty of Highgarden. You weren't fire and blood, or so you thought. However, when the war made you a dragonrider, the garden's secrets became revealed as your mother had to uncover the truth of an affair your great-grandmother had with a Targaryen prince during the rule of King Jaehaerys. The gods were merciful, and this child bore only a tiny resemblance to the Targaryen prince who fathered him, and your grandfather, the heir of House Tyrell, would pass his Targaryen blood to you. Amongst learning to ride dragons and fight for the rightful Queen, you learned the news that your home and your family had been taken and slain. You were now the Lady of Highgarden, thrust into a position you were not born for and fighting to make your place in the world while also trying to preserve whatever you had left of the life before the war. 

Jacearys wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, and you weren't supposed to fall in love with him, but you two were drawn to one another, bound together by some invisible string. He thought that he knew what love was supposed to feel like. After all, he and Baela were affectionate and devoted to one another, but with you, it was different. He felt electric when you accidentally brushed your hands against his while adjusting your riding gear. Or the way that it felt that the air had been sucked out of him when you gazed into his beautiful ember eyes. The way that your laughter filled the room and made his heart sing. Being with you made Jaecarys feel like the world had stopped and only you two were transceding through time.

It was only a short time before Rhaenyra noticed her son became fond of roses and would always request them no matter how difficult the import may be to Dragonstone. She also noticed how their newest dragon rider began to shed the colors of her house in favor of the colors of House Targaryen. It was hard not to notice the late hours you spent with Jace in the library, desperate to learn the language and customs of old Valyria as you both filled the castle with laughter into the hours of the night. You and Jacearys trained together, constantly pushing each other to your limits as you both developed a dance, a routine where your motions almost mirrored the other and your fierce devotion to one another became unmistakable, as when one of you was assigned to a mission, the other was desperate to go along to protect the other. This devotion would make you the woman who saved the heir to the iron throne, Prince Jacearys Targaryen.  

Once you became the Lady of Highgarden, Baela came to Queen Rhaenyra requesting to end the betrothal between herself and Jacearys. "He loves her, Your Grace," she stated, "and I do not believe he will ever stop loving her nor she. As we have witnessed, they would give their lives for one another if necessary. It would not be fair to Jacearys to watch the woman he loves marry another man; he is far too honorable to take her as a lover. Instead, he will be trapped with me, always longing for someone he can't have. Wondering of a future that could have been."

Rhaenyra sighed, knowing all too well what comes from loveless and forced marriages. She knew her son's behavior, and Baela was right. Unlike herself, Jacearys was far too honorable to lie with another woman, but he may never bring himself to love Baela. Instead, the two young rulers would be forced to be yearning gazes at court with Baela caught in the middle of an unspoken desire. Rhaenyra sighed. "I will grant your request." 

Queen Rhaenyra announced the end of the betrothal that same night, causing mixed uproar from the lords and ladies at court. Jacearys looked at his mother and Baela in horror and confusion as one of the lords called out, "Who shall be the bride of the prince now, Your Grace!?" "Shall we all present our daughters?" "I have a girl of marrying age!" Jacearys eyes searched for you and found you staring back at him, hopeful. He felt guilt as he looked back to Baela, who only nodded at him. A small smile crept on her face, and her eyes gestured at you. "Go to her," she mouthed. Jacearys blinked in confusion as his emotions raged inside him, and he felt his body begin walking toward you as his mother tried to quiet the unruly crowd. 

The crowd hushed as they noticed the prince making his way to you, the court, holding their breath as the realization dawned on them. The prince had fallen in love with the most beautiful but thorniest rose in the Highgarden. "My prince," you whispered, "they are watching." 

Jacearys only hummed in response as he lifted your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back. Hushed whispers rang through the crowd. "The Highgarden girl?" "There are rumors that they are a love match, but the Prince was promised to the princess." "She saved the prince's life; I, too, would fall in love with any woman of the sort." Jacearys chuckled as he caught some of the whispers and looked at his mother, who gave him a permissive nod.

"I have decided to marry Lady Tyrell, the Lady of Highgarden, if she will have me." Tears welled in your eyes as Jacearys publicly declared for you. "I will accept your proposal, Prince Jacearys." You nodded, a smile covering your face. Your heart overflowed with your love for Jacearys; you had spent so much time holding back due to duty and scrutiny. He laughed heartily as he kissed your forehead, pulling you in for a hug. "A love match!" someone shouted out, causing the court to erupt in applause and cheers. This union would promise peace amongst Westeros, for the people would know that the dragon prince and his thorny rose would furiously protect each other and their people. 

Jace shook himself from the memories and kissed your head, closing his eyes to breathe you in. "I love you," he whispered before shutting the book and drifting off to sleep. He staved off the nightmares from both of you for just another night and dreamed of what tales they would write for you both. 

[barefoothighlander]

the vow - i

summary: you’re betrothed to the future king of Guilder and a fearsome knight is assigned to protect you. medieval au

knight!simon ‘ghost’ riley x princess!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), age gap, violence, arranged marriage, infidelity

next part masterlist

a/n: @/dinalgo on tiktok posted some hc art of knight!ghost and i’m obsessed, so here’s my interpretation of that except I refuse to write in old English, also points if you catch the references I threw in

The sun shines brightly through the large window, the breeze blowing the trees outside your room, for a small moment, the world is quiet, just the songs of morning birds chirping on the balcony fill your ears, there’s no noise, no worries. 

The moment is quickly ruined by the sound of your maids bustling into the room, arms full of clothing and various tools, you turn your gaze to them slowly,

“Princess, good morning”

“I’ve told you a hundred times, please use my name”

“The Prince requests that we refer to you by your title m’lady”

“Well we wouldn’t want to upset him would we” Your tone is sarcastic as you make your way over to the women, one of them fixes your bed while the other prepares a bath, setting out your clothes. You step into the warm water, soothing a rag over your muscles to clean yourself before one of the ladies takes over, dumping water over your head to wash your hair. You sit for a few minutes in the water, allowing them to work around you, 

“You’re quiet this morning”

“Mm not much on my mind I’m afraid”

“You’re not excited for the festivities?”

“The feast should be nice, I don’t care much for the rest”

“Don’t talk like that” The older woman scolds, Clarice had known you since birth tending to you as a young girl, always by your side while you grew up in court, more a mother to you than your actual mother. “The Prince is handsome, a worthy adversary”

“Yes handsome, but also rude, stubborn, cold, everything I despise”

“With time you will grow to love him”

“I surely doubt that” You scoff

She furrows her eyebrows at you, “There, now let's get you dressed”

She helps you out of the bath over to the other maid, Beatrice, you had known her for less time, her position assigned to you when you came to the court after your engagement was announced. Your Father was the king of Florin, and you as his only child had the unfortunate position of being in an arranged marriage to the Prince of Guilder, the Monarchs of the country being old and weary, their son was to be crowned before the year ended and he needed a wife. Your countries had been at war for years, the violence only ceasing when your engagement had been announced, you had been in Guilder for a week now, hold up in the castle away from the public eye, today was the day that your engagement would be formally announced, a festival for your sake being held on the castle ground, thousands of people crammed inside the grounds all trying to get a look at you and the Prince, the idea made your stomach turn.

Your early years had been spent wandering the grounds of your families castle, the tall stone walls becoming a home after the years you spent in them, you felt sick for your old life, your freedom, you could run around the gardens, ride the horses whenever you wanted back home, but here, every action of yours was watched, criticized, you were told how to look, where to be and when, every part of your life was in the control of the Prince and your Father, you hated it.

You had gotten dressed, your breaths feeling tight due to the corset you wore, another freedom you yearned for was being able to wear clothing of your choosing, now everything was blue and green, the colours of Guilder, always tight on your chest to emphasize your figure, your hair was done up in a knot, a few loose strands falling to tickle your neck and cheeks.

“Beautiful” Clarice says, a soft smile on her face

“I look like a peacock”

“You do not, you’ve grown into such a beautiful woman, my little princess” Her hand is soft on your cheek, you smile at the tender action, always finding comfort in her. “Now, we must go, you’re needed downstairs”

You struggle to take a deep breath, silently cursing the fabric binding your chest as you make your way through the wide halls, they were lined with various adornments, some tapestries, a few swords hung beside scattered candles, it felt cold here, no comfort in the walls, everything was jagged and silver.

“Now, the Prince will introduce you, then the jousting will begin”

“Is anyone from Florin going to be in the duels?”

“I’m not sure my dear, there’s plenty of men from across the countries”

You nod, looping your arms through hers as you walk side by side, you stand at the large opening that leads out to the balcony above the castle grounds, everything is decorated in the countries colours, it’s so formal, you feel like a stranger in your new home, everything so similar yet so different, you had no family here, no friends aside from Clarice, you give her a soft smile before unhooking your arm, waiting for the Prince to announce you before walking out.

You step out onto the balcony, the warm sun hitting your skin, there’s a symphony of clapping and whistling, you look down at hundreds of people, all staring back at you, you wave to them,

“Sit down” The Prince speaks, you turn to him, his face is stoic, there’s no softness in his features, you abide, sitting down in the tall chair next to him. They begin the jousts, two by two the men file out, setting up on their horses, the Prince turns to you with every new competitor, explaining who they were and where they were from, including his personal opinion on the men.

You see a tall man enter the field, his armour pure black, his horse the same, he’s larger than the rest of the competitors, his helmet shaped like a skull, his chest plate donning an emblem you didn’t recognize.

“Who’s that one”

The Prince leans over the balcony to get a better look, eyes squinting in an effort to make out the symbol,

“I’m not sure, must be some farmboy playing make belief”

You respond with a small oh, the knight approaches the balcony, his hand reaching to remove his helmet, the light hits his face, streaking colours through his blonde hair, you can make out a few scars on his face, even from your distance you can see the deep colour of his eyes, his face is firm staring up at you, you’re frozen in your spot, staring back at him, he raises his lance toward you, without thinking you reach behind you, grabbing a ring of flowers held together by a ribbon, and throwing it onto his lance, it falls to the base, the flowers close enough that he could smell their aroma, he says nothing, not even a nod, he simply puts his helmet back on and moves to mount his horse.

You step back, your eyes stuck on him as you return to your seat,

“What was that?”

“Sorry?”

“You gave him your favour”

“Thought the farmboy could use some luck against Ser Michael”

“Ah, yes” The Prince goes on to ramble about the accomplishments of the opponent, his success in battle, how much he admired his bravery, but you aren’t listening, your focus completely taken by the shadowy knight galloping toward the centre of the pit, his lance raised as he thrusts it into his opponent, throwing him off his horse. The crowd erupts in cheers, you swallow thickly as you watch him get off his horse, moving toward you, he kneels in front of you,

“Simon Riley your highness”

“Where do you hail from Ser?” The Prince stands, your eyes are focused on him as he bows his head

“The North, but I am no Ser”

“You’re not a knight? You wear the armour of a knight”

“The armour belonged to my father”

“And where is he, your father?”

“Dead 10 years ago your highness”

“And tell me, why have you come”

“I come to prove my honour, to serve you”

“Very well, you may go”

You watch a few more rounds of jousting, growing bored with the same thing happening, they announce the final duel before urging the groups to attend the feast, you make your way down from the balcony, towards the high tables in the gardens, your eyes roaming over the groups of people, struggling to find a familiar face in the crowd.

“So what did you think?” The Prince asks

“About what?”

“The jousting” He scoffs

“They were all quite good”

“What about that Simon Riley”

You whip your head towards him, “I thought little of him, why?”

“Well he was rather large don’t you think, I might add him to my guard”

“Add him to mine” You speak before thinking

“Why would I add him to yours”

“I have no guard, no one to protect me”

“Well, I’ll arrange for you to choose a guard tomorrow then, perhaps then you’ll finally feel at ease here”

You nod your head, turning quickly from him, you greet the King and Queen, making small conversation about the state of the castle, the blooming bouquets of blue poppies that adorned the various pillars, your eyes are drawn to Simon, his dark appearance a stark contrast to the brightly dressed patrons that mingle around the grounds, you watch him disappear around a corner, it’s not until the Queen calls your name that you realize you had been staring at him the whole time.

“Sorry your majesty, my brain has been a fuzz all week, what did you ask?”

“That’s alright dear, with all the excitement I can hardly focus myself, I was just wondering if you had decided on a dress for the wedding”

“Oh, not yet, you’ve brought so many beautiful options I haven’t been able to decide”

“I understand, we have the best dressmakers here, but do make time to choose, we wouldn't want to delay such an important decision”

“Of course”

She smiles at you, looping her arm through her husbands as they walk on, you stand there, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of everything happening around you, you had only a week until you were to be wed and you had every decision already made for you, your fiancee and his mother picking out every detail of the wedding down to what bouquet you’d be carrying, they had decided that you would hold a large grouping of the blue poppies you see everywhere, the royal flower of Guilder, no part of the wedding made notice of your heritage, all traces of Florin erased from the ceremony, you were to be wed according to Guilder law rather than the customs of your home.

They had arranged for your father to attend but no one else, claiming that there simply wasn’t space for extra people to join, they had cut you off from your old life completely, forcing you to conform to their way of life, moulding you into the perfect Queen, obedient and meek, you despised it, you longed for your freedom from the confines of the castle.

When the feast ended and you had spoken to all the nobility you needed to, you were escorted back to your quarters, the silence of the large stone walls consuming you once again, no birds singing, no rushing of maids, just you and the night sky. It was late, the dark consuming the outer land in a blanket of shadows as you stood on your balcony looking over the moonlit gardens, that was the only good thing about your new home, a perfect view of the perfect gardens, every shrub perfectly manicured, bending and winding in a maze that led to a small fountain in the centre, each flower a shade of green and blue. Truth be told you didn’t think much of the colours before moving but now, you despised them, every shade a sharp reminder of how you didn’t belong, the colours mocked you as they invaded your eyesight, you huffed a breath to yourself, eyeing the grounds below for any sign of guards. 

There was one roaming the grounds, you thought you could easily avoid detection if you were quick, you grab your robe wrapping yourself in it, a small attempt to keep yourself warm from the cool air of the night as you creep towards your door. They were heavy, large slabs of wood, you open in slowly to avoid any creaks, slipping through the opening and rushing down the hallway, there was a small door meant for staff that you entered, making your way down the thin stairs and peering through the door outside, the guard has his back turned, you inch the door open and slide through, quickly moving towards the gardens. You walk under a large arch of shrubs, the smell of the flowers invading your senses, bushes of wolfsbane, oleander and wisteria fill the gardens, all beautiful but deadly, a worthy metaphor for your new home, you roam the isles of the garden, lost in the hidden openings and similar corners.

After a few minutes, you find yourself in the middle, a tall fountain in front of you, it’s stunning, the intricate details of the stone swirling as the water crashes into the pool, you sit in the grass, listening to the sound, letting it relax you, finally a break from the quiet that wasn’t the screaming of citizens, or the demeaning words of your future mother-in-law. You close your eyes, the grass tickles your skin as you relax, breathing in the fresh air, you hear a small rustle in the grass, breaking you from your state, you turn your ear to the noise, calling out quietly to see if anyone was there. There was no reason for anyone to be in the gardens at this hour, in fact, the Prince practically forbade it, you stand slowly, following the rustling noise, peeking around a corner you see a quick movement turning the corner, moving faster you approach it, your heartbeat heavy as you near, you turn to find the culprit and let out a small gasp, a small white rabbit was sat, chewing on some shrubs, you kneel down extending your hand towards it.

“Come here little guy, these gardens aren’t safe for you” It hops toward you, nearly touching your hand before it turns on its heel and sprints away, you furrow your brows in confusion,

“They aren’t safe for you either Princess”

Your breath stops, you feel the looming figure behind you as you slowly stand, you heartbeat now thrumming in your ears, you turn to face him, he almost melts into the darkness of the garden, his armour pitch black,

“You should get back inside”

Goosebumps cover your skin, your breaths shallow as you stare at him, you back up slowly, turning around to move through the gardens, you turn around the corners, trying to find your way out, your feet carry you through the grass, you follow the lights inside the windows, trying to get out. You rush towards the exit, eyes focused on the light as you collide with the guard, stumbling into him,

“I’m sorry”

“Princess? What are you doing outside?”

“I just needed some air” Your breathes are shaky as he scans your face,

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, completely, just need to go back inside I think the air was a little too cold”

“Well hurry in then” He nods, stepping aside to let you pass, you move past him hastily, opening the doors inside you make your way back up the stairs, you enter your room and release a breath, rushing towards your balcony to try and catch a glimpse of him. Your eyes scan the gardens, the night doing its job of concealing anything within the green walls, you see nothing, no movement anywhere, it's like he wasn’t even there, you think you imagined him, his deep voice ringing in your ears as you lay in your bed.

The next morning was calm, you woke early to the sound of your maids making their way inside, Clarice helping you dress and doing your hair while Beatrice makes your bed, tidying the room.

“Exciting day today” Clarice says

“What do you mean?”

“The Prince has arranged for you to pick a guard, I suppose he fears a possible war and wants you safe”

You nod at her, “I don’t believe the Prince fears for my safety as much as you do” you whisper, she shushes you, her eyes darting to Beatrice to make sure she didn’t hear, “Bite your tongue child”. You let out a small giggle, amused by how concerned she is, allowing her to finish your hair before you make your way to the throne room, you enter through the massive doors to a room of scattered men, all donning their house armour, you look around and see no sight of the dark knight. You stand atop the small set of stairs, looking down at the men as they announce themselves one by one, giving you their names and listing all their accomplishments, victories in battle, how they were undefeated in jousting in their home. You’re bored after an hour of their bragging, your mind oblivious to the fact that you have to choose one of them to be around you for hours at a time, an older man stands to speak but is interrupted by the sound of the doors opening, everyone turns their heads at the sound, their eyes widening at the sight of the tall man clad in black, he keeps his helmet on as he enters, only removing it to kneel before you.

“Simon Riley m’lady”

“Not Ser?”

“I beg your pardon”

“Everyone else here is a knight, why are you not?”

“I’m the last remaining member of my house m’lady, we’re a forgotten house”

“I expect my guard to be knighted”

“I may not hold a title Princess, but I assure you I would lay my life down for you” He turns his head to look at you as he speaks, and you release a strained breath,

“You may all leave” You address the room, Simon stands, “You stay” You look to him and he nods, the room is consumed in silence as the other men exit, leaving you alone with him, “Why were you in the gardens last night?”

“I needed to clear my head”

“It’s forbidden to be on castle grounds after dark”

“And yet you were there” He looks up to you, you swallow a thick gulp.

“You’ll be assigned to me, keep me safe”

“Thank you, Princess” He bows his head, 

“And don’t wear your helmet inside, it’s unnerving”

He fights the smile that creeps up on his lips as you turn away from him, exiting through the back of the room, you make your way to the Prince's quarters, his guards stand outside the door.

“Princess” They greet you

“Hello, I need to speak to the Prince”

They look to each other and back to you, “He’s busy I’m afraid”

“It’s a matter of staff” You try to push past them but they stop you, you furrow your brow at them, one takes a moment, knocking on the door.

“My Prince, the Princess wishes to speak with you” He shouts through the door, you hear shuffling through the door, the Prince mumbling something before he steps to the door, opening it, he’s half-dressed, his hair a mess, you watch him peer backwards, mouthing something and it all clicks in your head, you feel your chest tighten.

“What did you need my love” The name feels like a stab to your chest,

“I’ve chosen my guard, Simon”

“Simon?”

“The black knight from the feast” You watch the gears spin in his mind

“Yes very well” He turns away,

“He needs to be knighted”

He sighs, “He holds no title?”

“Not yet no”

“Fine, inform him that he should be in the throne room by nightfall, I shall do it then”

Before you can respond he closes the door, the shuffling and giggles behind the door resuming, you spare a polite smile to the guards, turning away and making your way to your quarters.

You sit at the small table in your room, your eyes watching through the window as people wander the grounds, you call for Clarice who meets your side in an instant,

“Please inform my guard he is to be in the throne room after dinner”

“Very well Princess” She smiles at you before leaving, you sit quietly in your room, daydreaming about being outside in the fields, exploring the ponds around the castle grounds, being anywhere but here. The time passes quickly, a servant knocks on your door to inform you that dinner was prepared, you make your way down to the dining hall, the air of the room feeling colder as you sit down, dinners were the same, just you, the Prince and the Queen, the King being in poor health was kept in his room, only brought out for special occasions. You sit and eat, picking at the meal in front of you as the two of them discuss wedding preparations like you aren’t there, they don’t ask for your input, deciding on things alone, after a few minutes you stand to excuse yourself,

“You’re done eating?”

You stop in your tracks, “Not particularly hungry this evening”

“Well, I should see you in a few moments in the throne room then,” He says, turning back to his conversation, disregarding you.

You make your way to the large room, the walls high, large windows separating the spaces in them, you stare at the ceiling, it’s ridiculously tall, with large chandeliers hanging from the crossing beams, there are pictures hanging on the wall, you stride past them not bothering to spare them a glance as you hear the doors open, The Prince walks in beside his own guard, Simon trailing behind them, your gaze softens as you look at him, he kneels in front of the Prince, removing his helmet, you’re close enough now that you can properly make out his features, the sharp line of his jaw, the scar that crosses through his eyebrow, and his eyes, dark and rich, his hair falling slightly across his forehead as he bows his head. The Prince declares a few words, taking a sword from his guard and tapping it onto Simon's shoulders, the knight stands to his height, he towers over the Prince, having to look down to meet his eyes, he swears a few words, giving his oath to the Prince before everything is settled. The Prince nods, stepping away and leaving the room, Simon turns to you,

“Ser Simon” You nod

“Princess”

You stand there looking at him, words unable to make their way from your lips, you simply turn and leave, his eyes following you as you exit making your way up to your room, he trails behind you, his helmet under his arm as you reach your door, he stands with his back to the wall, his eyes focusing around the halls as you enter your room. You step in and close the door, your back falling against the hard wood as you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, bracing yourself against the door, you take a few seconds to gather your thoughts before moving further into the room, stripping yourself of your dress to put on more comfortable clothes, feeling like you could properly inhale without the burden of a corset.

You spend an hour alone in your room, pacing around trying to occupy your mind, the pale walls doing little to aid your efforts, you think to yourself for a minute, your legs carry you across the rooms towards your door where you stand for a moment, collecting yourself before opening it,

“Princess, is there a problem?” He asks

You shake your head, you’re entranced by his gaze, “Where is your family Ser?”

“My family?”

“You come here holding no title, no accomplishments, who are you?”

“I’m no one”

“Nobody is no one”

He smiles slightly, his eyes crinkling, “I come from England Princess, my family owned a farm before the war, and now I am here”

“And your family, what of them”

“Dead m’lady”

Your face drops, your heart thumps with empathy, “I apologize for my words, I had no idea”

“How could you have”

“Yes well, how did you come to be in the country?”

“I’m not sure, I left home one day and just kept going until I arrived in the countryside”

“And you chose to stay here?”

“It’s beautiful here”

“It seems that way”

“Seems?”

You stumble over your own words, careful to not give yourself away, “I simply mean it’s not my home”

“You’re not from here”

“No, I come from Florin”

“I have never been”

“Well I hope you get to see it one day, it’s beautiful, tall cliffs with waterfalls, every part of it breathtaking”

He watches you speak with deep interest, hanging on to every word that falls from your lips, “You miss it?”

“More and more every day” You admit

“And you can’t go home”

“Not if I am to be Queen” Your smile fades

He nods, you turn your gaze to him, oblivious to the fact that he’s been staring at you the entire time, his eyes memorizing every feature of your face, every smile line and ridge, you turn from him quickly, nervous under his stare.

“It’s late Princess, you should be in bed”

You turn back to him, a polite smile on your face as you walk back into your room, your hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment, wishing you could keep talking to him. You lay in your bed wide awake, the words exchanged with Simon the first conversation you’d had that didn’t concern the details of your marriage, he was the first person to ask about your feelings, your home, you figured he must’ve just been being polite, too nervous about getting sent away to say anything different to you.

Simon stands guard over your room while you sleep, turning away any guard who tried to take his position, intent on ensuring your safety within the confines of your room.

[theladyfae]

thanks for the tag sadie ! <3

my 72nd song was into you by ariana grande (v fun to walk to)

@queer-cosette @sunfoxfic tell me your 33rd song <3

knowing what my #1 spotify song has become predictable (its august by taylor swift) BUT my #21 is Looking For Somebody (To Love)

im tagging:

@ohcaroline @medeas-chariot @heavenfalls @backgroundagent3 @footprint-in-the-snow @eyeofthemoose @rawrkittenpurr @malewifebillcage @gendryastarkers

to tell me their #21, then pick another random number between 2-100 and tag other people to post theirs and pick another number