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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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Yes yes yes yes Curtis pull your head out of your fine ass PLEASE. I adore this fic and was just so excited to see the update ❤️

Heart of Glass - Six

Heart of Glass Series Masterlist

Therapist! Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, language, mentions of therapy, jealousy, angst, slow burn, me edging you at the end (you'll see...)

Summary | A bad breakup lands you in the office of Dr. Curtis Everett, who seeks to help you further at the request of your local therapist, due to his renowned talent in his niche profession.

The realization of what he’s done hits him in the morning, his calendar updated with the giant blocks of time free for the time being, before Justine fills up the spaces with more clients. For a moment, Curtis wants to keep the blocks of free time the way they are. His phone vibrates loudly on the nightstand, Roberta’s number flashing across the screen. Answering can mean he’ll get any version of her and most likely, the one he will receive is one that he will not enjoy.

“Roberta,” he greets, the deep sigh on the other end making him go silent.

“Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“I did it,” Curtis affirms. “I had to.”

“She doesn’t see it that way.”

Curtis pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering just how much you’ve told Roberta and how much of it painted him in the light that he knows he belongs in. Roberta never holds her tongue – something that he appreciates about her but wen he’s on the receiving end, it seems to get under his skin more than he lets on.

“I assume you’ll be stubborn and make no move to apologize. There’s unprofessional and then there’s… this,” Roberta fumes, Curtis already imagining her disappointed shake of her head. “But this isn’t about the doctor and patient relationship, is it, Curtis Everett? You started having feelings for her.”

“I did not.”

“You can lie to the masses, Curtis but you cannot lie to me. I told you that she was a special case. You had a lot in common and I was confident that you could get through to her.”

“Sounds like matchmaking to me,” Curtis points out dryly.

“I’m not finished,” Roberta snips. “Don’t interrupt me when I’m in the middle of telling you how much of a bullshitter you can be. You’re damn good at your job. The best in your field and you know that. But there is a big reason you’re still unmarried and it’s not because women haven’t tried. You never let them in. Until now.”

“Trying to diagnose me? It isn’t going to work. It was going farther than the usual doctor patient relationship and I put a stop to it. Plain and simple. I’m sorry that I hurt her but it had to be that way, Roberta, and you know I’m right.”

“Alright, you want to play this game? We’ll play.”

“What game?” His irritation rises, tossing back the sheets and blankets, making his way toward the closet, phone still pressed to his ear, waiting for Roberta to turn off the motherly façade.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“You’ve never denied a patient before. Which tells me she got to you. The great Curtis Everett has an Achilles heel after all. Which I always knew was there but I never knew when it was going to surface. Didn’t take long and how do you respond? By canceling the treatment that she needed. That she could get somewhere else but there will not be high standard of care and precision that you provide. All because you want to shield your feelings. I’ll find her a new therapist but let me ask you a question… do you think you could handle her sharing her thoughts with another therapist? Sharing those repressed desires with someone who isn’t you. You can’t think of it, can you?”

“I have to go,” he replies, his tone cold. “I’ll call you later.”

“When’s the last time you heard from Will?”

You know your co-worker Maia doesn’t meant to be intrusive, the way she leans in with a quirky crooked smile. Chalking it up to your own uncomfortableness to discuss your personal life, there’s no lie you can toss into the air, simply shrugging.

“He’s been busy,” comes your reply.

Maia nods in understanding, as if she knows exactly what you’re going through. The truth is that Will has been keeping in contact with you. Texts that you find yourself putting much more effort into than you should. He’s on his speaking tour, taking pictures of each stop to share with you. As handsome as Will is, the awareness that this could be a fling has come into question more times that you can admit to yourself. Judging by the times of when he chooses to engage with you, the feeling that you’re still on the line of this invisible fishhook frustrates you, enough to promise that you won’t reply to his messages as quickly as you have been.

“Everything else been okay? We’ve got that review in two days with the blueprints and I have to be honest, the concepts are a little underwhelming,” Maia admits, your head nodding with her statement.

Work has been brutal, the long hours providing you little time to think about the way you were dismissed from your now former therapist’s office. The memory of the dismissal still stings when you allow yourself to dip into that part of yourself that hurts to think about it, listing into the abyss of the strangely painful experience you had found yourself in. Even the amount of times that Bryce had cheated, treated you poorly had always been seen as acceptable within the realm of what he was capable of. You’d come to expect that from Bryce.

Never Curtis.

Being swept aside should feel like a second nature, a skin you can shed and grow back without pretense.

You’ve been used to being cast aside so much that it should feel like you’ve trained for this, to be ignored and have others move on while you pick at what little pieces of yourself are left to put together back together.

The amount of work piled up on your desk brings you back to reality. Somewhere Curtis Everett is taking on a new patient – someone who isn’t you – and he isn’t thinking about you in the slightest.

“I think I may take an early lunch,” you muse out loud, Maia giving you a thumbs up of approval, turning back to her desk to tackle another project.

“Good,” she says, biting down on a pen.

A nervous habit that you know she’ll regret.

That white blouse of hers will never recover.

Karma is a cruel mistress.

The moment Curtis steps inside his favorite coffee shop, the one with the ridiculous latte of the day featured at the front of the store, he pauses to read it.

Kermit the Frog Matcha Latte.

He won’t be ordering it but he has to hand it to the artist, who manages to capture Kermit’s likeness in a cup, an art he will never learn.

His order is on the tip of his tongue, effectively disintegrated by the sight of you tucked away in the corner at a high top table, legs idly swinging from the high barstool as he spies the heels, his gaze moving to your shapely calves and thighs that are hidden under your dark gray pencil skirt and tight black sweater.

You’re engrossed in a self-help book, turning a page and taking a sip of your latte. For a moment, he wonders if you ordered the Kermit special, your gaze lifting from your book to his stare.

It’s over before it begins, as if you saw right through him. Like a ghost.

He deserves it, he knows he does. It makes perfect sense that you would dismiss him – the same way he did you. By the time he makes it to the counter, he remembers his order, the usual, a creature of habit that the cashier has it rung up before he can get the rest of the words out. Normally he’d take it to go, to head back to his office but Justine has been especially opinionated with how things had gone with you and he isn’t in the mood to have a sparring match with his assistant, of all people.

Admittedly, it was a blow to his pride to know that you haven’t attempted to reach out, even if he knows the idea of it is ludicrous in itself. The sliver of hope he had is out of touch, even for him, to believe that you’d break down and contact him. That hurts his ego even more than he cares to admit.

Sifting through his emails only provide a slight distraction, ever so often looking across the table to see you pulling at your lower lip with your thumb when you turn a page, deeply engrossed in whatever you’re reading. The action makes him wonder what it would feel like if he was running his thumb against your lips and that small thought sends him careening toward what other parts of you would feel good, shaking his head in disgust.

He still hasn’t made up with Roberta, knowing that she’ll wait much longer than he ever will.

A notification pops up on his phone, Curtis staring at it for a moment to try to recognize the number before he finally reads the text.

Are you following me?

There’s only one person who could send him such a thing, Curtis typing out a message in return.

I could ask you the same thing.

You glance down at your phone, a smirk twitching at your lips before you flip your phone over, effectively cutting the communication that you had started. An olive branch snapped in half, your attention back to your book.

Frustration doesn’t take long to creep in, Curtis finishing his lunch, keeping an eye on you while you slide off of the barstool. With your book tucked under your arm, you toss your trash away in the respective bins, making no final eye contact with him.

It’s over before it even began, Curtis knowing that he needs to leave you alone, to give you the space he had unceremoniously gifted you with. But Roberta’s words ring in his mind, the possibilities swirling in his mind of who you could be talking to.

None of that matters though.

Not since he’s still in this coffee shop and you’re probably at your car.

Heading outside, he looks for any sign of your car, taking stock of what vehicles are still in the parking lot.

And not one of them is yours.

Dusk seeps into the sky, painting the sky in dark pinks and purples. By all accounts, you should be out, having that social life that you promised yourself you would have. You even told Roberta you were ready to move on, even if you know the expression on her face meant that she didn’t believe you.

You didn’t believe yourself either.

Seeing Curtis should not have made you think twice about picking up the phone to call him, your phone in your lap while you scroll through the menu of the few hundred channels on our TV, none of them catching your attention.

There is no excuse as to why you suddenly broke your rule about ignoring him. Out of sight and out of mind was the way to be and it had served you well for the most part. Except when your calendar would alert you about an appointment that you longer had. You’d sat in bed, painstakingly removing every single appointment you’d placed into your phone. There was nothing to mourn and everything to overanalyze.

Nothing makes you drop your phone faster than when your ringtone rouses you from your deep thoughts, nearly dropping it like a hot potato when you see who is calling.

“Yes?” you answer, trying to keep your voice cold.

“I need to apologize to you.” Curtis’ voice on the other line sounds too professional. “If you’ll let me.”

“I accept your apology.” You don’t really but if it means a truce, you’ll put your feelings aside and move on.

“That’s not what I meant,” Curtis denies. “I want to apologize properly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dinner.”

Sitting up, you hold the phone tighter, mouth dry at what he’s just said.

“Dinner,” you repeat.

“Is that a confirmation?”

Blinking owlishly, there’s little time that he’s leaving you to answer.

Not that you need to hesitate.

“Yes.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

#lulu reads #curtis everett x reader #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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These are all the fics that have a very special place in my heart because of the plot, characters or amazing writing. Beware as a lot of them are dark.

One Last Time (Dark! Peter Parker) by @cherienymphe

This explores how easy it is to stay in a very toxic, abusive relationship very well. The way Peter switched from sweet to awful was masterfully done.

Concubine (Dark! Steve Rogers, Dark! Bucky Barnes) by @cherienymphe

Royal! AU where Bucky and Steve are kings who share the reader. The twists and turns were amazing, the characters so compelling and the payoff thrilling.

Those were the days (Dark! Steve Rogers) by @syntheticavenger

In this one, the reader is a woman focused on her career and Steve wants her to take it slow by any means necessary...it was a wild ride and stays with me to this day.

As I sleep (Bucky Barnes) by @sgt-seabass

This story is a tragedy that still haunts me. The writing is beyond beautiful. Reader is kidnapped by Hydra and kept by them for several years. Amidst the daily horrors she suffers, she and Bucky fall in love. It’s that perfect, bittersweet feeling.

High value Hero (Dark! Steve Rogers) by @rustytricycle

What if Steve Rogers was an incel? This is what this wonderful story explores. His entitlement and creepiness were very well portrayed. I was so furious every chapter.

Too much is never enough (Dark! Thor, Dark! Loki) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

The twists and turns in this one...In this story, Thor is the reader’s best friend dad but it stands out to me because it doesn’t romanticize how dreadful a situation like that is. It shows how trapped and scared the reader is.

Heaven won’t help you (Dark! Bucky Barnes) by @musingsinmoonlight

A modern! Royal AU in which Reader is forced to marry Bucky for political reasons. I liked how the dark creeped up on me in that one. I wasn’t ready. The writing made my brain explode.

Pattycakes (Soft Dark! Thor) by @boxofbonesfic

The plot of this is kind of like a romantic comedy but a lot more spicy. I love Thor as a dad and how protective he is of a family he didn’t even know he had. I also enjoyed how possessive and territorial he is with Reader.

In Memoriam (Dark! Steve, Dark! Bucky, Dark! Sam) by @lokislastlove

I love love a good ghost story. This story kept me at the edge of my seat wondering what these men will do next the whole time.

Finding home (Bucky Barnes) by @jobean12-blog

A super fluffy tale of Bucky owning a pet rescue business. Cuteness and warmth galore.

You wish you knew (Dark! Rafe Cameron) by @softcoreparadise

Rafe feels incredibly in character in this. I like the portrayal of his relationship with reader. It’s painfully realistic and shows how one can fall into a dynamic like that where they’re manipulated by someone more powerful very easily. It also is written amazingly.

Love Bites (Dark! Vampire! Steve Rogers) by @cherienymphe

Great vampire tragedy. Complex and incredibly written.

The way you are (Tony Stark) by @frostironfudge

It’s a super fluffy fic in which Reader is insecure avout her body and Tony showers her with infinite love and support. I just about melted.

Wolf like me (Dark! Bucky Barnes) by @sgt-seabass

This is a great story of betrayal and longing.

taking care (Soft Dark! Nick Fowler) by @bellasburdens

This was so stressful to read all the way through. Nick comes home to Reader and accuses her of having betrayed him. I held my breath in some parts.

Untitled Bill x Reader fic by @angrythingstarlight

One of the funniest, well-written stories I’ve had the chance to read on here. It shows incredible skill and wit. I love it.

Reflection (Ghost! Ari Levinson) by @boxofbonesfic

This is a great horror fic that really translates that creepy feeling of something watching you in the shadows. The writing is breathtaking as it is in all her stories.

All Hail (Dark! King Hal) by @cocoamoonmalfoy

I loved how possessive King Hal was. I never read this character but the writing enthralled me.

F.R.I.E.N.D.S. (Dark! Best Friend Steve Rogers) by @cockslutpadalecki

Amazing angst. Steve’s wanted the Reader for a long time and finally snaps one night.

Something Pure and True (Dark! Bucky Barnes) by @syntheticavenger

One act of kindness from Reader turns Bucky obsessed. I really love this trope and how feral and possessive Bucky is.

Devil in the suit (Matt Murdock) by @fluffyprettykitty

This fic gets Matt Murdock so right. I loved how palpable his guilt was.

Waiting For the Night (Incubus! Stephen Strange) by @strangeprincex

This is such a sweet and sexy Stephen fic. I was literally swooning. Incubus Stephen is both arrogant and irresistible.

Missing Piece (Roommate! Bucky Barnes) by @navybrat817

This piece is part of a series of interconnected one-shots in which Bucky and reader are roommates. They are so cute and I couldn’t help but fall for their chemistry and amazing dynamic. I really like how supportive of Reader Bucky is and how much he takes care of her.

#lots of good stuff here #and stuff i haven’t read yet #tbr #lulu reads #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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Did you just bless me with Jake Johnson porn on this blessed Saturday? This was a filthy delight and I’m obsessed with this pairing. Pornstar Ari always hits but now you’ve gone and added Doug to the mix and I may never recover.

Want It Bad

Doug Renetti (Minx) x pornstar!reader x pornstar!Ari Levinson (RSDR)

1.1k wc, dubcon, casting couch vibes, exhibition kink, oral (m rec), anal (f rec), alcohol, spit kink, creampie, name calling, daddy kink (no ddlg)

a/n: thanks to @undutchable11 for getting me hooked on Doug lol and @fineanddandy for encouraging the filth 🥰

divider by @firefly-graphics

🍁 fluff/kinktober masterlist

"Fuck, look at you. Pretty little thing, ain't she?"

The man in front of you smells like whiskey and cigarettes, wafting off his breath and sticking to his clothes. He strokes your cheek and smiles as your mouth drops open with a gasp when the other man in the room enters you from behind. Your eyes roll back and you groan from somewhere deep in your chest.

"Easy there, big boy. Don't want her to black out before I get a turn." The man at your front takes a sip of his whiskey before sticking two fingers in the glass. You want to grimace but you can barely breathe, let alone think enough to be disgusted. He brings his wet fingers to your lips, wetting them too before sticking them down your throat.

"Suck."

It burns but you do so without hesitation and the man behind you grunts in satisfaction.

"Shit, Renetti, she's squeezin' me like a vice."

Your eyes are watering, the absolute beast of a man behind you is filling your ass more than you thought possible. He's barely started, only rolling his hips into you, moving in and out inch by inch. And, fuck he's got so many inches.

"Need you to relax for me, baby. Wanna pound this sweet little ass but you gotta relax and let Daddy in."

His words make you shudder. You're trying, you really are, but your nerves are getting to you. This is your shot, your big break, and if you can't nail this interview you'll never get to be centerfold one day.

Mr. Renetti, or Doug as he insists you call him, downs the rest of his whiskey and puts the cup down on the coffee table.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You gotta let my friend Ari here in. You want this spot right? You want to be out number one girl?"

You nod as tears run down your face. Ari's hand rubs circles on your ass cheeks, squeezing them and spreading them so he can watch your hole flutter around his cock. You feel the long, cold drop of spit when it lands where the two of you meet.

"Y-yes, sir."

"That's my girl."

He pats your cheek a little rougher this time and smiles before moving to undo his belt. You watch with bated breath as he pulls himself free from his tight white pants.

"Just need to give you something to take your mind off it, right sweetheart? I know you're a good little slut, you can take it."

Bent over the arm of the leather couch in his office, you're right at eye level with his cock, thick and dripping, making your mouth water.

Tears spring from your eyes again as you take him in your mouth as deep as you can in one go. You're showing off, you need to show off, you have to impress him.

"Fuck, you're right. She's beautiful." Ari groans behind you as he watches you blow his boss. Gagging and drooling all over the other man's length like a pro. His dick twitches inside you and he knows he can't hold back any longer.

You groan around a mouthful of cock, the rhythm of your stroking fist faltering for a second as you feel Ari begin to move behind you.

"That's it, baby. Take this fat cock."

Ari grips your hips tight, pulling you back as he thrusts forward.

You stare up at Doug through your thick eyelashes, suckling on the fat head of his cock as you stroke him.

"You like getting fucked in the ass like a slut? Hm? Bet you'd let me in that tight little snatch right now too."

Your eyes flutter shut as Ari wraps his hand around your throat from behind. You squeak out a "yes" when Doug pulls himself from your lips.

"Keep going. Fuck her good, Levinson. I'm not paying you to mess around."

Now that you're loosened up, adjusted to his girth Ari's pounding into you, relentless with his thrusts. Your half-lidded eyes don't leave Doug's as you watch him watching you, his cock in hand, stroking to Ari's rhythm inside you.

Ari pulls you up by your throat to lean back against his hairy chest. You cry when the angle of his thrusts change, digging you out, carving space for himself in your guts like he belongs there. Fuck, maybe he does, you sure as hell don't want him to leave.

You're babbling, begging him to fuck you harder like he's not already giving it to you like no other man has. Ari reaches around and strums at your clit. Your messy cunt soaks his fingers when you come with a shout.

"Fuck, baby, that's it. That's it."

Your eyes never leave Doug, watching him stroke harder, faster. The angry red tip of his cock flashing from behind his fist. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling and spilling over when you think about him marking you with the cum churning in the heavy sac between his legs. You'd beg for it if you could speak.

"Gonna fill this tight ass up, baby," Ari smacks your ass once, twice before gripping it tight in his massive hand. "Want you gaping, leaking my cum."

You frantically nod your head.

Doug gets up from his chair and Ari brings you back down, holding you now by the back of your hair as he grinds his hips into your cheeks.

"Been such a good little slut. You ready?"

You nod, not knowing for what but you couldn't care less. Doug shoves his fingers in your mouth again, this time pressing down on your tongue so you hold your mouth open wide. You can feel Ari getting closer behind you, his hips faltering until he spills inside you, filling up your tight hole with a shout that rattles your bones. Doug comes shortly after, holding your mouth open with a tight grip on your chin as he shoots his spend into your mouth and across your cheeks.

"Fuck, that's it. Pretty little slut."

You shudder when Ari pulls out of you, splattering the couch with his cum.

"You're cleaning that up."

"I know, I know," Ari waves him off, using one finger to push the cum leaking out of your ass back in.

"So...," you sit there, on hands and knees on the couch as the two men right themselves.

"So?"

Doug looks at you, haphazardly tossing you a towel before pouring himself another drink. He hands Ari a wad of cash and Ari pockets it before coming back over to you. He grips your chin and kisses you deep and delicious. You could keep going for hours but he pulls away, running a hand over your exposed breast as he goes. A shiver runs down your spine.

"Hope I see you again, beautiful."

He leaves and you ask Doug again.

"So...did I...? Did I get it?"

"Get what?" A beat of silence before he remembers what he brought you in here for in the first place. "Oh! Yeah, kid. You're gonna be our number one girl."

#lulu reads #doug renetti x reader #ari levinson x reader #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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Why is it that whenever Sif shows up in a fic things get messier? Also this chapter made me want to get day drunk on spiked cider at a ski chalet with a handsome man. Sigh.

Little Lies 6

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon/dubcon, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss throws your comfortably dull life into chaos. (Boss AU)

Characters: Loki

Note: Thanks for being patient with this one. I have lots of chapters ready to go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like the Gingerbread Man loves gumdrop buttons. Take care. 💖

“I figured a sojourn into the city is due,” Loki says as he fixes his collar, sitting beside you in the back of the town car.

Your powder blue skirt fans out around you, the designer cape on your shoulders is from a bygone era, likely ridiculous on you. The fur hat, that you’re assured is faux, matches the pristine white of your blouse and trim of your white booties.

You nod as the car continues down the winding mountain road, overlooking a precarious drop into the crags.

Keep reading

#lulu reads #loki x reader #boss!loki #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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I know Frigga’s a stuck-up bitch in this but I kind of love her? She will just tell you to your face that you’re not shit and I respect it ngl. What is Loki playing at tho bc he had to know his mom wasn’t going to accept some commoner 🤔 Also was they just your garden variety morning wood or is there something more to it 👀

Little Lies 5

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon/dubcon, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss throws your comfortably dull life into chaos. (Boss AU)

Characters: Loki

Note: I feel as if someone is crushing my uterus between two stones so needless to say today is gonna be the wooooorst. But hope y’all are well.

Love you all like the Gingerbread Man loves gumdrop buttons. Take care. 💖

As you come out in frigid silence with Loki, you’re uncertain what to do with yourself. There’s no need to pretend. No one’s around. It’s just you and your boss in perpetual dissonance.

Keep reading

#lulu reads #loki x reader #boss!loki #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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Ok Thor knows exactly what he’s doing 👀 But also PUPPIES 🥰

Little Lies 4

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon/dubcon, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss throws your comfortably dull life into chaos. (Boss AU)

Characters: Loki

Note: Thanks to everyone. This is queued so I’ll probably be tired af from the concert.

Love you all like the Gingerbread Man loves gumdrop buttons. Take care. 💖

The table has seats for twenty or more, but is set only for five. You sit beside Loki, Odin at the head of the table, Frigga to his right, and another empty chair at her side. You wait patiently as your glass is filled by one of the numerous staff around the house. You’ll never be used to that.

Keep reading

#lulu reads #loki x reader #boss!loki #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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Lmao please he put her in coach I-

I can already tell Thor is gonna be messy and he hasn’t even appeared yet and I love Frigga’s subtle shade 😂

Little Lies 3

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon/dubcon, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss throws your comfortably dull life into chaos. (Boss AU)

Characters: Loki

Note: Thanks to everyone. This is queued so I’ll probably be tired af from the concert.

Love you all like the Gingerbread Man loves gumdrop buttons. Take care. 💖

The airport bustles ahead of you as you wobble in your heels, a bag on your shoulder, two more rolling at your side. Loki stops you as he pulls out a trolly and takes his suitcase from your left hand, lifting it easily onto the metal. He swiftly piles the pieces of luggage and tuts.

Keep reading

#lulu reads #loki x reader #boss!loki #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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I’m losing my mind this is exactly what I want right now. I’m about to devour this fucking fic like a feral raccoon.

Little Lies 2

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon/dubcon, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss throws your comfortably dull life into chaos. (Boss AU)

Characters: Loki

Note: Hoping to put out a few updates for other fics along with this for the rest of the week, however, I have a concern tn so it may not be possible.

Love you all like the Gingerbread Man loves gumdrop buttons. Take care. 💖

The flat white coffee sits on the desk as you pull shut the door behind you. Mr. Laufeyson isn’t in yet and you’re happy for it.

Rarely, outside of working hours, as little as that is, do you think of him. You left work at work and got on with life. But not last night. Last night, you couldn’t avoid the fiery heat that speckled across your cheeks every time your mind drifted to your strange encounter.

Keep reading

#lulu reads #loki x reader #boss!loki #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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Finally digging into this one and I’m already all about it. You would never catch me doing that much work though. I don’t care how fine the man is I am not taking out his trash.

Little Lies 1

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon/dubcon, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss throws your comfortably dull life into chaos. (Boss AU)

Characters: Loki

Note: Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead an post this first part. Thoughts very much welcomed.

Love you all like the Gingerbread Man loves gumdrop buttons. Take care. 💖

In all your life, you’ve been barely seen and rarely heard. Those qualities praised as admirable or even absolutely innate for success elude you. You’re not especially interesting, nor extraordinarily intriguing. You are not too much of anything, just there.

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#lulu reads #loki x reader #boss!loki #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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Now I know that bitch Kayleigh is lying and I’m about to cunt-punch her to the fucking moon

I love Ransom in therapy so much like we stan a man trying to better himself and work through his issues so he can be a better man and better father 🥹

That sex was hot as hell too like unf this man is going to worship her when she gets a lil bigger and I am here for all the kinky shit 😈

Ransom's Revenge 8

Relationship: Ransom Drysdale x MILF!Reader

Summary: Ransom hates his new summer intern Hunter and the feeling is mutual. Ransom decides to put Hunter in his place the worst way he knows how – dicking down Hunter’s mom.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Non-Con, unprotected sex (piv), oral sex, mentions of infidelity, some violence, squirting, misogyny, pregnancy, trauma, angst

18+ ONLY - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“So fucking reckless,” you scolded yourself as you sat in your parked car near the cafe you were meeting Ransom.

Your palms were sweating from how nervous and embarrassed you were. You hadn’t seen Ransom in weeks and you didn’t think you would until some other society event, definitely not under this circumstance. Ransom parked a few cars behind you and you quickly ducked when you saw him approaching in your rearview mirror.

You hid hoping he wasn’t going to see you until you heard someone knocking on your window. You peeked up and saw Ransom looking at you confused. You gave him an awkward smile and a wave.

“Fuck!” you huffed as you collected your purse.

“Were you hiding from me?” Ransom asked with an amused grin as you walked towards him.

“I dropped something on the floor,” you muttered quickly as you nervously gripped your purse strap.

As you walked next to him your pinkies accidentally touched and you both quickly moved your hands away from each other. Ransom opened the door of the cafe for you and you could feel his hand hover over your lower back before he pulled it away.

“What do you want?” he asked as he neared the barista, “Your usual?”

“Yes…and um… can you get me a chocolate croissant too if you don’t mind?” you responded politely knowing the need for chocolate was definitely a pregnancy craving, “Thanks, Ransom.”

You found a seat at a table near the window and fiddled with your phone. You knew you didn’t have any new emails or texts, but scrolled through your phone to occupy yourself. Ransom finally sat down across from you and handed you your latte and croissant. The smell of the fresh pastry and chocolate was divine, but you were so anxious your stomach was in knots and you couldn’t touch it.

“Thank you,” you said as you tapped against the mug with your nails nervously, “Um, how have you been?”

Ransom’s face dropped and he cast down his gaze, “I’ve been better…There’s some shit that happened and -”

He cut himself off abruptly. His eyes moved up to yours and you could see hurt and sadness in them. You knew in your gut that something was wrong. The same sixth sense you had when Hunter was hiding something that was bothering him from you.

You furrowed your brow as you looked at him, “What kind of stuff?”

He hesitated for a second and then cleared his throat before sitting back in his seat, “I’m okay, Y/N. I promise. It’s…I just miss you a lot.”

You examined his face for a moment, but decided not to push him. You reached out and grabbed his large hand to hold it. His eyebrows shot up, taken aback by the gesture. His face softened as you gazed into his eyes. The way his hand felt in yours made you feel warm and calm. You felt comfortable enough to tell him.

“Ransom…I have something to tell you and I thought you deserved to know,” you took a deep breath before continuing, ”I’m…I’m pregnant.”

Ransom froze. He pulled his hand away abruptly and just stared at you blank faced without saying anything. He let out a shuddering exhale and you could have sworn you saw his jaw tick. You couldn’t read his expression and each moment of passing silence made you more and more nervous.

“Say something, Ransom. Please?”

He put his elbow on the table and rubbed his face, “I’m sorry. I’m just..this wasn’t what I was expecting.”

His response instantly put you on edge. You hadn’t expected him to be overjoyed but you were now worried he was upset. You could raise your baby on your own, sure, but you wanted Ransom to be involved too.

“Does this mean you want to get back together?” he suddenly asked you hopeful, “We can try again for the baby and -”

“I think we should take things one step at a time. We rushed into things before and we should move slowly because of the baby.”

“If this is about what happened with Hunter, I am sorry about that. I mean, he’s been a smug little prick since we broke up -”

“Ransom!”

“I’m sorry - I’m sorry, Y/N. Listen, I will do anything to make things right. I want our baby to have a family.”

“Our baby,” those words coming from Ransom’s mouth gave you a small smile. You bit your lower lip as you looked down and touched your stomach.

“We’ll still be a family, Ranson.”

“So… I definitely have a chance?” he playfully smirked.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Yes, you still have a chance. One chance. So don’t fuck it up.”

“Can I take you out to dinner Tuesday night then?” he asked as he leaned in, giving you a flirty look, “Sort of like…a first date do-over?”

“Fucking, Ransom,” you thought to yourself. You crumbled, instantly. You couldn’t deny the tingling in the apex of your thighs you had just from sitting across from him. You hated the pull he was having on you.

“I’d like that,” you smiled back at him, “Um, and you can come to the next doctor’s appointment with me too if you’d like.”

“Yes, I want to. I want to go to all of them - if you’ll let me.”

You opened your purse and took out the sonogram image and slid it over to him. He picked it up slowly and stared at the image awhile. A large grin stretched across his face as he looked at it.

“I think he looks like me,” he declared smugly, “He’s got my jawline.”

“He?” you laughed as you snatched the photo back, “Of course you think it’s a boy. I hope it’s a girl. I’ve always wanted one after I had Hunter.”

A mischievous glint grew in Ransom’s eyes, “Does he know? Have you told him?”

“Oh god no! No, not yet. And don’t you tell him either!” you scolded and warned him at the same time, “Don’t tell anyone, okay? It’s too early and something could happen. I mean, I’m older and –”

“Hey, hey, nothing is going to happen,” Ransom tried to reassure you as he grabbed and held your hand.

You shook your head, a sense of anxiety about what could happen started to rear its ugly head, “You can’t know that, Ransom.”

“I can,” he said confidently, “The kid’s a Drysdale. He’ll be fine purely out of spite for your doctor. He'll tell them to eat shit the moment he's out of the womb.”

You let out a deep belly laugh and had to wipe a few tears from your eyes. You hadn’t forgotten how funny he was. It was his best attribute, aside from another very large one you missed.

You and Ransom chatted for about another hour before it was time for you to leave. He walked you to your car and you hugged as you said your goodbyes. You wanted to bury yourself in his chest the moment the scent of his cologne hit your nose. It was warm, woodsy, and masculine. You knew you’d embraced him for longer than intended when you finally pulled away from him.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you later,” you said before walking to your car.

“Tuesday?”

“Yeah, Tuesday.”

~~~

Ransom was on edge as he sat on the plush couch in his therapist’s office. His foot tapped the ground anxiously as he took another sip of water.

“So, tell me, Ransom, how does it feel knowing you’re going to be a father?” his therapist, Dr. Jones, asked.

“Overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming? Hm..let’s sit with that for a moment, because that word can mean a lot of things.”

Ransom paused as he took a few moments to think about the answer. There were so many feelings that he didn’t know where to begin and there were some he didn’t want to even admit. Not to mention the ones he didn't even have the vocabulary to express.

“The thing with Kayleigh that happened,” Ransom finally started, “That really fucked with me. I mean, it’s still fucking with me.”

“So the impact of your assault is adding to the feelings you have surrounding being a father?”

“Yeah, it’s a lot. It’s just a lot.”

“Let’s try to name or talk about those other feelings. What else is at play here too?”

Ransom gulped and looked down, “I don’t want what happened with Kayleigh to make me fuck things up with Y/N. I only have one shot to prove myself to her and that makes me nervous. It’s stressful as fuck.”

“Okay, and anything about being a father in particular?”

Ransom took a deep breath and let out a long exhale. He didn’t want to admit what was probably the biggest reason he was overwhelmed, even though he and Dr. Jones had touched on it in multiple sessions already.

“I’m scared,” he admitted with a mixture of relief and shame, “I don’t want to fuck my kid up. I don’t want to be some cold heartless asshole like my parents. I don’t want my parents fucking my kid up with their bullshit either.”

“These two things are solvable and you’re already in the process of doing that. You’re here, doing the work and healing from your parents’ emotional neglect and abuse. Part of what will help both you and your future child is learning to set boundaries. Just the anticipation of doing that can be stress inducing.”

“Then why do I still feel like such a pussy for not being able to handle this?”

“Does all of you feel “weak” when you talk about your feelings? Or is there another part of you that doesn’t feel that way?”

Ransom contemplated the answer for a moment, “Yeah, there’s another part of me that tells me I’m not weak. That this is normal and I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. But that other part of me that thinks I am is louder and stronger.”

Dr. Jones nodded as he jotted something down in his notebook, “That makes perfect sense Ransom. The part that tells you you’re weak is just like what your parents would have told you. You didn’t grow up with someone to acknowledge your feelings or to be a caretaker in that regard. So where would you have learned to do that on your own?”

Ransom thought about when he came home from school crying in first grade after having his nose busted by a bully. His dad scolded and mocked him for not being able to fight back properly and called him a pussy. His mom simply rolled her eyes when he said he was afraid to go back to school and called him ridiculous. Ransom was left to solve the issue on his own and suffice it to say, it was by hurting people psychologically and emotionally before they could hurt him.

“You’re off somewhere else, Ransom,” his therapist said to pull him back to the conversation, “How does this make you feel? When you think about having to be your own caretaker?”

“It makes me pissed off,” Ransom gritted out as his fist clenched, “And it’s something that I don’t want to do to my kid.”

“Okay, well then let’s practice with yourself first. When you think about that part that tells you you're weak, think of that as your parents’ voice. Not yours. Practice working on the more nurturing caretaker part of yourself. Practice listening to and amplifying that part. Can you work on that?”

“Yeah, I can,” Ransom agreed.

“Good. And I want you to know Ransom that feeling overwhelmed with all of this is completely normal and rational. You’re dealing with the trauma of your assault, stress about your relationship with Y/N, anxiety about setting boundaries with your parents to protect your child, and the fear that you may hurt your child the same way your parents hurt you. That is a lot to carry. These feelings are valid.”

“I know,” Ransom agreed quietly, not able to look Dr. Jones in the eyes, “I know it’s a lot. I know that mentally, I mean.”

“As for Y/N. I think you should take things slowly. Not just because those are her wishes, but it’s also the healthiest route for you.”

Ransom hated that. He knew that you and Dr. Jones were both right, but that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to be back with you yesterday. To be in bed with your head laying on his chest. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and to just talk and make you laugh.

“I know that’s going to be hard for you, Ransom. I know that’s not what you want.”

“It isn’t…but I’ll try my best.”

Dr. Jones took a look at the clock and put down his pen and notepad, “Well unfortunately we’re at time. See you next week?”

Ransom got up and chugged the rest of his water before tossing the paper cup in the trash, “Yeah, doc, I’ll see you next week.”

~~~

Linda walked into the bustling country club restaurant to meet Kayleigh and her mom Karen. Linda and Karen were friendly enough. Their husbands both worked at the same company and they’d often play doubles tennis together. The servers and other guests greeted Linda as she made her way to the back table where the two women were waiting.

Karen had called her seemingly out of the blue and asked her out to lunch. It was odd given that outside of tennis, Linda only saw her at the ladies’ luncheon every other week.

She smiled and waved as she approached. Karen stood up to hug her and the two women exchanged air kisses. Kayleigh looked nervous as she got up and straightened the skirt of her sundress. She hugged Linda as well before both women sat down.

“So, how are you two doing?” Linda asked as she tried to get a server's attention.

Karen let out a deep sigh, “Doing well, given the circumstances.”

“Oh?” Linda raised an eyebrow, “What circumstances? I haven’t heard anything from Richard. Did something happen?”

The server approached and before he could ask anything Linda started with her order, “I’ll do a dry gin martini with a twist, along with the cobb salad. Dressing and bacon on the side, please.”

“Um, I’ll have a glass of the chardonnay,” Karen chimed in, “And…I’ll do the caesar salad, no croutons and dressing on the side.”

“And for you, miss?” the server asked Kayleigh.

Kayleigh held her stomach and shook her head, “Um, I think just soup for me. Minestrone, please. Thank you."

The server smiled and repeated their orders back to them before leaving. Karen took the server interrupting to divert the conversation to Linda for the time being. The two women caught up while Kayleigh sat silently looking out of the window.

“Have you heard from Ransom?” Linda suddenly asked, pulling her from her thoughts, “I’ve been telling him to call you.”

Karen and Kayleigh became awkwardly silent. Kayleigh looked down at the table, not wanting to make eye contact with Linda. Her mother cleared her throat before speaking.

“Linda,” she started cautiously, “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.”

The server suddenly arrived and handed Linda and Karen their drinks. Linda took a sip before motioning for Karen to continue. The other woman let out a sharp exhale before starting to speak again.

“The thing is, Linda -”

“I’m pregnant,” Kayliegh blurted out, “And it’s Ransom’s”

Linda spat out her drink and unfortunately for Karen, it splattered all over her face. The other woman closed her eyes and flinched as the liquid hit her. She looked both disgusted and shocked. She quickly grabbed a napkin and dried herself off. Karen’s makeup was now a mess, her mascara streaked down her face.

Linda couldn’t care less about Karen’s state, “What do you mean pregnant?! Ransom’s?” she whispered loudly at the two women.

“Yes, the night of the auction,” Kayleigh boldly lied as she started to fake cry, “We had sex and…I don’t even know how to contact him. He’s blocked my number.”

“Fucking Ransom!” Linda fumed. She wasn’t just shocked, but also deeply disappointed in him.

She turned to the nearest server and snapped her fingers repeatedly, “Miss, another martini! Please!”

~~~

“Fuck! Right there, Ransom. Right there!” you begged as Ransom fucked you into the mattress.

“I’m going to take things slowly this time,” you had told yourself earlier, “I won’t take him home.” Lies. All lies and you knew they were the moment he picked you up for your date.

You were both covered in sweat and your legs were sore from your body quaking during the numerous orgasms he’d managed to pull from you that night. He held one of your legs wrapped around his thin hips while he rested his forearm next to your head. He leaned down and gave you a hungry yet sloppy kiss.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned through his labored breathing, “God I missed you so much, baby.”

His smooth meaty length massaged every sweet spot of your inner walls. Your toes began to curl again and your legs tensed as they shook. You dug your nails into Ransom’s back as your own arched off the bed. Your orgasm shot through you like lightning, making your eyes roll and you scream with wanton abandon.

Ransom hammered into you as you clenched around him, each hard thrust squelching as his cock pummeled into your quivering soaked pussy. You looked up at him as you came down. He was glistening with sweat and his brown locks were astray against his forehead. His bright blue eyes were now black as he looked down at you with intense lust.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you before he quickly turned you over. You squeaked at the sudden movement before letting out a guttural moan as he slowly slid back inside of you. Ransom wrapped his arm around your neck and held his cheek against yours as he started to snap his hips frantically to chase his own release. You bit your lip and mewled at the sound of his thighs smacking against your ass.

“You look so fucking good with my baby in you,” he rasped into your ear, “You’re gonna look even hotter when you’re nice and round and everyone knows you’re mine.”

“Ransom!” you moaned as your nails dug into his bicep.

“Can’t wait to fuck you then,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppy, “With your huge tits all filled with -”

Ransom grabbed you tightly and roughly sheathed himself inside of you as far as he could go. He held you in place as he came, his hot spend painting your velvety walls. You felt each pulse of his cock inside your overstimulated pussy. His body shivered on top of yours and he struggled not to collapse on top of you.

He rolled off and plopped down on the bed. You panted as your body still trembled from the aftershock of your orgasms.

“So much for taking it slow,” he teased you with a sly grin.

You whacked his arm as you got up to lay your head on his chest. You knew you shouldn’t have had sex with him, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Part of you hated how little self control you had around him.

“Taking it slow doesn’t just mean not having sex,” you tried to justify your actions, “It can mean how often we see each other, when we tell people we’re dating again. That sort of thing.”

Ransom chuckled as he stroked your hair, “So you mean you want to keep this and your pregnancy secret for as long as possible?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I want to be more comfortable in where we are after what happened. I need to to know that you’re mature enough and -”

“Hey, mom!” Hunter suddenly called out to you as he knocked on your door.

You instantly froze, your eyes wide in fear that he’d realize Ransom was there with you.

“Don’t say anything!” you whispered to Ransom who was now covering his mouth to hide his giggling.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is someone there with you?” Hunter asked curiously, “I heard another voice.”

“Oh, um, it’s just the TV,” you lied quickly, now getting even more nervous, “What do you need?”

“Can Trevor come over and hang tonight?”

You laid your head in your hands, “Fuck!”

“I have a migraine,” you quickly recovered, “How about tomorrow night?”

Ransom leaned over to whisper in your ear, “You and I both know it’s not gonna be your head hurting tonight.”

“Shut up!” you sniped at him.

There was a long pause on the other side of the door. Your heart pounded against your chest, worried that Hunter might have heard you.

“Okay. Well, text me if you need anything. I’m gonna just head back out then.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Have fun!”

You waited as you heard the sound of his footsteps retreating until you couldn’t hear them anymore. You let out a deep exhale before falling down on the bed.

This little game of secrets was going to be much harder than you imagined.

Chapter 9

Taglist: @rededfoxy @straywords @eralen @daniphantom1 @rebekahdawkins @loki-lover23567 @po3ticb3auty @phildunphyisadilf @buckymydarlingangel @in-umbra-gratia @himbos-on-ice @winchestersister5 @gh0stgurl @samfreakingwinchester @uncle-eggy

#lulu reads #ransom drysdale x reader #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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The scheming! The plotting! The intrigue! I am hooked on this. Also he gave her a cub 🥹❤️

reign - iii.

Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged and commented on this little fantasy fic of mine. We have a series masterlist now!

reign masterlist

King! Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, family toxicity, angst, minor character death/murder, mentions of magic, language, mentions of rumored incest (gossip).

Summary | After the untimely death of the King, a family is thrown into a dangerous game of politics, navigated by a man who offers up his niece as a bargaining chip to secure his place in the realm.

��I must say I was surprised at your inquiry,” Lord Formad says, his servant pouring them both goblets of wine before she bows her head, taking her leave. “Though I believe it was only a matter of time before our paths crossed, Lord Hanad.”

The keep is large, airy and bright with the sound of the sea crashing against the rocks. Formad looks at Hanad’s hand, carefully bandaged, that he quickly moves under the table.

“An accident,” Hanad explains, the man across from him nodding his head. “I asked for a meeting to discuss your concerns with our Lord Chancellor.”

“Mm, indeed, Lord Chancellor,” Lord Formad gripes, stroking his beard. “Merely a boy who believes to know our politics, much like our King to be.”

He pauses, giving a small smile.

“I mean no ill will toward t our future queen, of course. It’s quite interesting, my Lord Hanad, that your niece was hidden away for so long and yet, never set foot in Greymount until earlier today. Most men would have loved for their daughters to come to court. Your brother seemed content to keep her away from here. It does have the people talking of course. They say many things. Including the bond between brother and sister. Twins, I believe, yes?”

“Yes. My brother is very strict with his household. Since she was a babe, she was under lock and key. I aimed to change that. My niece has many gifts.”

“One or two that I’m certain our new king will enjoy.”

Hanad ignores the lewd comment, leaning forward as Formad empties his goblet, wiping his mouth.

“Emeric believes that he has the upper hand. He was installed after King Richard’s death, in the middle of the night. My supporters were dismayed at the haste decision. I had been a faithful steward to our late King Consort Richard and the Queen. As you can imagine, the slight is still raw with myself and my allies.”

“So I have heard. I come to you with listening ears and an open mind, my Lord.”

“You have positioned yourself wisely, Lord Hanad. I saw the way our Prince Ransom looked at your niece. He is quite taken with her, though I am not sure she has been trained to deal with men like him. He could devour her. What then of you, my Lord Hanad? What hand would you have to play?”

“Devour?”

“They say our new king killed his father,” Lord Formad whispers. “A delicate situation, one rife with swift discipline if the word got out. I trust that this piece of nonsense with you goes nowhere else. As you can imagine, our lands are thrust into turmoil with such gossip. It would mean that our new king would be illegitimate.”

“Indeed,” Hanad agrees. “Has it been spreading?”

“Only to my allies, the ones who believe it to be true are weighing options to bring the prince to the council.”

“Do you believe it?”

Formad sighs, leaning his beefy arms on the table.

“What I believe is that Ransom is cunning. Cruel hearted and darkness follows him where he goes. A position of great power could have appealed to him. But I don’t believe that he would get his hands dirty. I believe, my Lord Hanad, that he gave that edict to one of his own.”

“You believe Emeric killed King Richard.”

“I do,” Lord Formad says with a hard nod. “And he would do it to keep his seat at the table. To keep his future king happy. I aim to bring that to light, my Lord Hanad.”

Hanad taps his fingers on the table. Formad slumps in his chair, a shapely young woman calling out to him as he turns.

“Ah, Romeria,” he calls out, the much younger woman placing her hand on his shoulder, her robe pulled against her. “This is my associate, Lord Hanad of Ulyera. My wife, Romeria.”

“Pleasure to meet you, my Lord Hanad.”

He gives her a smile, nodding his head as Formad turns her back, patting her backside as she disappears.

“The hour is late and my wife needs attending to,” he says with a sly grin. “I’ll send word for you, my Lord, when we have another meeting. I welcome your thoughts on what our realm is dealing with. You may be able to provide some clarity. Maybe some direction.”

“Of course.”

“What business do you have with me now?” Ransom snaps, tossing down the fabrics as Walter closes the door shut.

“We need to discuss what I’ve just heard.”

“Discuss what? You’ve been prattling on for days now.”

“The people are talking about your future bride. They say that she and her brother are…” he pauses, nearly spitting out the words with disgust. “Intimate.”

Ransom stills, lifting his head to glare at his uncle.

“Who?”

“The people.”

“No, the people know better. Your circle of acquaintances don’t. Which of them spoke ill of my future queen? Which of them had the audacity to utter those words?”

“Ransom, you aren’t listening,” Walter urges, pulling up a chair as he sits. “That night, they saw her and Dominic in her room at nightfall.”

“One time? Cannot a brother and sister see each other?”

“Are you blind? This is unnatural.”

Ransom slams his hand on the table, silencing his uncle.

“What is unnatural is that you believe your acquaintances before your own nephew. I will appease you and ask her, dear uncle, if these rumors are true. But I will also have my revenge if I find a name. Does that sound fair?”

He’s met with silence, a hard knock breaking their conversation.

“Who is it!” Ransom shouts, the door opening as a woman stands in the entryway. Immediately, he glares. “Out.”

Walter lifts from his chair, giving a slight bow before he moves out of the room, leaving the woman to stand in front of the door after she closes it.

“Weara,” he greets, her eyes narrowing at the fabrics on the table. “What brings you to my door? Especially after I have told you countless times I do not wish to see you.”

“Since I was so cruelly removed from your bed weeks ago, I wanted to confirm the truth. The great Prince Ransom has a thawing heart? One would have thought that was a myth,” she hisses. “I always expect cruelty from you. But never deceit.”

“Deceit?” Ransom asks, his tone soft. “You mistake priority with deceit. You matter so little to me, Weara. You warm my bed for months, to do a duty your own mother did with my father and you expect a full accounting of my day? You think I would share the details of what goes on inside this castle to a whore? Have you gone mad?”

“I cared for you, Ransom,” she starts, voice cracking with emotion. “You cast me out the minute your father died.”

“I had no need for you any longer. You served your purpose. Don’t try to pretend that you were not aware of how it would end.”

“And if I were to bear your bastard?”

“You wouldn’t,” Ransom answers. “I’d feed you to my pets before you could tell a soul. But we both know you’re infertile, Weara. It is a curse that you flaunt well to your customers, or have you forgotten? For one who speaks of deceit, you have no problem with it flowing from your own lips.”

“You cannot marry her!”

“By who’s ruling?” Ransom demands.

“I warmed your bed, Ransom,” Weara sobs. “For months, I heard your schemes and I kept them quiet.”

“And so you believe you should queen as a result of your silence? You interrupt my meeting with my beloved uncle for a hissy fit? You are lucky I did not have you thrown out into the streets. Go.”

“Ransom, please I -”

“I am your King! Get out before I remove you myself!”

With a hard sob, Weara flees, the door slamming as he exhales loudly, grabbing a glass before throwing it against the wall, watching it shatter.

Fingers coast over a silky leaf, checking the health of the plant as a heavy knock rouses you from your thoughts, the door opening to reveal Prince Ransom. You curtsy, still trying to get used to the heavy dresses that feel unnatural to wear.

“Your Majesty,” you greet, his expression one of curiosity before he sits, motioning for you to do the same.

As childish is it is to dream, you are enamored with his handsome face, nary a wrinkle on him as he offers a cool smile. It’s dangerous to think about this future king, one who you cannot get to know as of yet. Many walks in the gardens have taken place with the future King at your side. The conversations are surface level, leaving much to be desired, much more questions to ask on the tip of your tongue.

“A moment of your time, my lady,” Ransom begins as you sit. “I need your assistance in a matter I find… distressing.”

Judging by his stare, you realize it is better to listen than to speak, nodding quickly.

“You are very close with your brother. As an only child, I can’t imagine the bond that you must share. Envious, as I may be, it appears that to others, this bond is too familiar.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“I believe you do. There are witnesses who say that they saw you and your brother on your balcony on your first night.”

You swallow, thinking of who you saw that night.

“Say it,” you whisper, heart pounding in your chest from anger. “Tell me what they suspect.”

“There are whispers that you and your brother are intimate.”

“Do you believe these whispers, Your Majesty?”

It takes every bit of you to maintain your composure, to block out the thoughts you have so that Dominic does not come crashing into your room, defending your honor. More importantly, you are surprised at how quickly rumors have started.

“Have you given me any reason to believe them?” Ransom counters.

“No. My brother is my closest confidant. I trust him where I trust no one else. In times of hardship and struggle, he has always been my constant. I don’t expect any of your followers, your people to understand that. But we are not deviants, Your Majesty. While I would lie on the sword for my brother, there are limits and boundaries that one will never cross, nor ever entertain,” you state, lifting from your seat. “Please excuse me.”

Ransom doesn’t let you get far, his hand on your upper arm as you stop, eyes welling in your eyes while he shakes his head.

“You’re angry,” he confirms, your lip trembling as he spies your tightly gripped fists at your sides. “Do you know who spoke such lies?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” Ransom murmurs, pulling you closer. “It matters that my future queen is distressed over a blatant lie. I want the name.”

Shaking your head, you won’t start anything you can’t finish yourself. You’ll have your vengeance in time, the hurt of the words and the weight of what Ransom has told you hangs heavy in your heart. You’ve grown used to the words that have been hurdled against you since you were a kid. Every unholy name was casted upon you from children to adults, who hadn’t believed in your gifts, who thought you daft for planting a garden when there were flowers blooming across the hills.

Dominic has always been your savior, protecting you from the grieving widows who blamed you for their husbands’ deaths in the forests due to the hardwinds, calling you a witch and begging for your death to appease their suffering.

Blood was always thicker than water but the bond you have with Dominic is unbreakable. One that would not be sullied by anything unclean.

Ransom’s hand coasts over your cheek, thumb rubbing against it, blue eyes boring into yours.

“Tell me,” he urges, gently pulling you closer as his soft lips press on your forehead. “Let me put to bed these rumors so that you may be at ease. Do not deny me.”

Closing your eyes, your heartbeat slows as you allow him to soothe you, even if it’s temporary. You can see the man in your thoughts, clear as day.

“Lord Formad.”

The hushed whispers cease when Lord Emeric enters the council hall, the men following him with their eyes as he sits.

Dominic stands at the door, listening intently as he hears your fervent plea to not intervene.

“I called this emergency council meeting to discuss a very troubling concern,” Lord Emeric begins, looking around the table. “It appears our future queen became very distressed over some very vile accusations of her character.”

“Already?” Lord Ghentam exclaims with a shake of his head. “She’s only been here for less than a week.”

“What allegations does she speak of?” Lord Formad inquires. “My Lord Ghentam is correct. It could be the gossip of milk maids, of the women of the night. Jealously knows no bounds.”

“My Lords,” Lord Emeric says loudly. “There is someone who sits presently at our council who has been confirmed spreading these inaccuracies. The King would like to speak with them in his chambers to verify the validity of these accusations.”

The eerie silence that follows makes Emeric narrow his eyes.

“Am I to take this silence as you all agreeing to meet with Our Majesty?”

“I would do no such thing to our future queen,” Lord Ghentam speaks up. “She is still of virtue! A maid! I know her father, Lord Kulane, well. They have no depravity in their household.”

“And you, Ser Dominic?” Lord Formad speaks up. “What say you of this accusation?”

“I know nothing knowing of you what you speak, my Lords,” Dominic replies. “My duty is to serve Greymount and the King. I have not been made aware of any gossip regarding my sister.”

“You might as well know it,” Lord Emeric says with a sigh. “Someone at this table believes you are sleeping with your sister.”

“Which?” Dominic asks angrily, hand on his sword as he takes a step forward. “Tell me so that I may answer them.”

“Now, Ser Dominic,” Lord Emeric sighs at his infuriated face. “I mean to put an end to this. My Lord Votelnar, will you explain what you heard the night our dear lady came to Greymount?”

They turn their heads to face him, Lord Votelnar lifting his head.

“I heard my Lord Formad make an observation of Ser Dominic who was in her room. He said he found it odd that Ser Dominic would come between our Prince Ransom and his future bride at their first meeting, only to end up in her bedroom late that night.”

“Do you believe Lord Formad thought they were intimate.”

Lord Votelnar nods, staring at Lord Formad as he answers.

“He told me he believed it to be so.”

“Lies!” Lord Formad shouts, standing up as his chair scrapes loudly, pointing at Lord Emeric as spittle rests on his chin. “This is madness! This entire council rests on its laurels when a witch is placed in our midst, brought here by our Lord Chancellor to cement his place at our king’s side.”

“She is not a witch!” Dominic shouts. “Nor would I ever lay with my sister, you conniving -”

“That’s quite enough,” Lord Emeric says with a nod. “Ser Dominic, Ser Ulrich, please escort Lord Formad to our Prince Ransom for interrogation.”

“You’re mad!” Lord Formad shouts, the knights grabbing each arm of his. “You’re not the real Lord Chancellor! My allies will hear about this!”

Pulling him up the steps, he calls for his supporters before the doors slam shut.

“Leave us,” Ransom instructs, watching a cowering Lord Formad on his hands and knees.

Dominic and Ulrich bow before they leave, Dominic giving him a threatening glance before disappearing out the door.

Ransom circles the man, taking a bite of an apple as he chews thoughtfully, inhaling slowly before he swallows.

“Do you know why you are here, my Lord Formad?”

“I do.”

“Then you are aware that this matter is of utmost importance and needs to be dealt with.”

“I ask for mercy, Prince Ransom,” Lord Formad whispers, getting to his feet slowly.

“You may certainly ask for it, Formad. But I will deny it.”

“Deny me mercy? Your Majesty, I have served you and your family for decades,” Lord Formad begs.

“And you sully your service with lies about my future queen, do you not?”

A low roar and a growl gets Lord Formad’s attention, his shaky hands gripping the table as he looks out over the balcony.

“You can’t see them, Formad,” Ransom says with an irritated sigh. “That’s half the fun.”

“You can’t do this.”

“I can’t?” Ransom pauses, tapping his finger against his chin as he thinks. “I think I can, actually. I made sure of it.”

Ransom grips him by his robes, lifting him as Lord Formad’s eyes go wide at his strength.

“Did you believe I would not find out about your treachery? That you met in darkness with Lord Hanad?”

“I…I…” Lord Formad gasps for air, Ransom’s eyes burning into his own.

“You severely underestimate me, my Lord Formad. You singlehandedly tried to turn my uncle against this union and you spread your lies about my future queen to the point of her tears. You underestimate what she can do to this entire kingdom and beyond our realm. What we can do together.”

“I can make it right,” Lord Formad wheezes, his legs kicking as his face goes red. “P-Please, Your Majesty.”

“You are going to make it right, my Lord Formad,” Ransom replies with a cold smile, letting him go as the man drops to the ground, trying to crawl away before he’s dragged toward the balcony.

“No, no, please!”

With a shrill whistle, he can hear his pets, growling as tears prick at Formad’s eyes

“I hate it when nobles beg,” Ransom seethes. “Go with dignity.”

He tosses him over the balcony, the sound of his body hitting the ground with a thick thud, his screams overpowered by the loud roars of Nero and Brutus as he looks over. Formad’s eyes look up in terror as the lions wait, looking up at their owner, their tails flicking as they lick their chops.

“Nunc est devorandum,” he commands, the lions roaring before they tear into Formad, Ransom leaning over as he observes him being devoured.

Standing in the moonlight, you let it bathe you in its light, the root now spouting another branch. Inhaling deeply, you focus on where your uncle could be. Your mind is a map, voices in your head acting as a guide to your path.

“You believe Emeric killed King Richard.”

“So I have heard. I come to you with listening ears and an open mind, my Lord.”

A vision clouds your mind, eyes opening as they turn to milky white, face upwards toward the sun.

Your uncle, locked in an intimate embrace with a woman, candles around them as he pulls on her hair. The woman looks up at the ceiling, her face one that you’ve seen before.

When you first arrived, introduced to the nobles that stood around you.

Lady Formad.

The vision is clear, the sound of the door opening to your chambers that breaks you of your meditation, heart pounding at the realization that your uncle is sleeping with a married woman.

“Your Majesty,” you gasp, curtsying to him as he stands in the darkness.

“The hour is late. I thought you may have been asleep. I come with a wedding gift.”

“A gift?”

Ransom steps into the light, holding a black leopard cub in his arms. Its yellow eyes shine in the moonlight like jewels.

“You’ve yet to meet my pets but I wanted you to have one of your own.”

He places the cub in your arms, watching it snuggle into the crook of your arm.

“Do you like her?”

Petting her soft fur gently, you nod, unsure of what makes you worthy of such a precious thing when your head raises at the remembrance of his words.

“Wedding gift.”

“I will announce to the council tomorrow with a larger celebration planned prior to our wedding. If you will allow me to do so.”

“I do,” you respond.

“Then,” Ransom says against your lips, kissing you slowly as his fingers slide up the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let the celebrations begin.”

#lulu reads #ransom drysdale x reader #medieval au #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

Text

Ok Ransom feeding people to his pet lions has me feeling some type of way I just-

I love this Reader so much too this is Good Shit right here.

reign - ii.

I told myself I was going to wait to see if people liked the first chapter and I guess it was enjoyed, haha.

So here you go, have another chapter.

King! Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, family toxicity, angst, mentions of murder, threats.

Summary | After the untimely death of the King, a family is thrown into a dangerous game of politics, navigated by a man who offers up his niece as a bargaining chip to secure his place in the realm.

Ransom gazes over the balcony, his two beloved lions, Nero and Brutus, fighting over a carcass. Brutus rips an arm from the body, settling down to enjoy his selection.

He’s inclined to toss another body over, just for the frustration that runs through him at the thought of what he had promised. His own dawning empire could be threatened by a careless moment but he stands strong in his belief that he has made the right decision.

Even if others disagree.

“How can you stand there and watch them eat?” Walter asks, his uncle leaning on his cane for a moment, refusing to come any closer.

“They are powerful. A good reminder of what we are,” Ransom replies. “Are you here to try to attempt to have me reconsider?”

Walter taps his cane on the ground in irritation.

“Do you trust Hanad?”

Ransom watches his pets for a moment longer, turning back to his uncle who sits on a chair, eyeing him carefully. His uncle has been worried since the beginning, from the day his mother, the Queen, died mysteriously, leaving the King Consort to rule.

And it ceased as quickly as it began.

“I trust no one, Walter, you know that.”

“Then why agree to the marriage? You should have rid yourself from him the minute he saw you. You gave him power, Ransom! We don’t give our enemies what we’ve held for centuries!”

“Is that what you think? That I freely gave him whatever he wanted?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. He doesn’t belong in our lands, doesn’t belong in this castle. You invite him in, to potentially hold a council seat because you couldn’t kill your father as cleanly as you liked. I warned you that he was going to struggle and you didn’t believe me. I could have cleaned up the mess on my own.”

“One death would lead to two,” Ransom counters slowly. “Then what would you have me do? Kill the rest who took his body? Kill you for your insolence? Men like Hanad aren’t stupid, Walter. He will protect what he believes to be my secret as long as he is rewarded by it.”

Walter lets out a groan of annoyance, running his hand down his face.

“Exactly my point.”

“But you underestimate me, dear uncle, as you tend to do,” Ransom continues, circling Walter as he looks up at him. “His niece will be Queen. When I put a baby in her belly, my son will be a prince. Naming him and his brother as lords are nothing to me. They are titles, Walter. Which can be stripped away at a moment’s notice. Whenever I see fit.”

“And if he puts up a fight? Tells your secret?”

“ I will invite him into the lion’s den.”

Arda glances at you inside the garden, lifting up a gnarled root and placing it into a bag. Your deep blue cloak, a gift from the soon to be King, swallows up your frame before Kulane steps outside to see his wife, her hand over her mouth. The distress has been mounting for days, the telltale lack of sleep on her face, dark smudges under her eyes.

“It feels wrong,” Arda murmurs, Kulane tucking back a wavy strand of hair over her ear. “This is her home, Kulane.”

“She’s going to a better one,” Kulane argues. “With more power and stability.”

“Better,” your mother scoffs. “Better than being kept safe? Knowing I can see her in the mornings? To help her tend to her garden?”

“Don’t let your heart cloud your judgement,” Kulane admonishes gently. “She will be a queen. Hanad -”

“I don’t care what he said, what he promises,” Arda argues, pulling away from her husband. “Does he know of her gifts? Does the Prince know?”

“No.”

“All the more reason for her to stay here. I don’t care about our titles, Kulane. I care about our family.”

“Then think of the good it can do when she’s ruling a kingdom. Everything we’ve taught her has led to this moment.”

“And Dominic? What of our son?”

“He will stay at the castle.”

Arda gasps, shaking her head in disbelief. It feels cruel to break the news in such a way but he knows that Hanad would not have hesitated to tell her the truth. In a few days time, they will eventually travel to their new holdings, land gifted by the Prince to benefit their new titles.

“Then I’ve lost both of my children on this day.”

She leaves him behind, Kulane calling out to you. When you lift your head, you notice he’s dressed in much finer clothing. He stands proudly when you come to him, holding your bag in your hands.

“The carriage will be approaching soon,” he reminds you.

You nod, saying not a word. You haven’t since he had cruelly told you that you would be moving to the castle, to meet the Prince and be his wife. Spoken to you without a pause for your questions, your concerns, your uncle had left you alone, your father trying in vain to back up the claims that it would be better for you to listen to him. That your future would be much more than what you have now.

“No words for me this day, I assume,” Kulane comments, your head lifting at his words before you move past him. “You will make us proud, daughter. I have no doubt.”

The carriage slows to a stop, Dominic standing at attention. He can feel your eyes on him, the unease in your thoughts that he seeks to soothe before you block him out.

“Don’t,” he whispers to you, your eyes closed, a tear running down your cheek. “Don’t shut me out. Not me.”

It comes rushing back, the anger and pain of being ripped away from your home, your mother and father and the growing hatred of your uncle that makes Dominic stare at you before you place the hood of the cloak over your head.

When the door of the carriage opens, a tall man with thick wavy hair and a beard steps out. Immediately the villagers that have come to see this spectacle, bow their heads.

“Lord Emeric,” Dominic introduces. “Our Lord Chancellor of the soon to be King.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Lord Emeric greets you, bowing his head. “The King shall be pleased to see you.”

There is no fanfare, save for the guards that sit atop the hill, ready to accompany the carriage to make sure you get there safe. Your father has told you as much. Under heavy supervision, the Prince will take no chances with your safety.

Your uncle is nowhere to be found, Dominic silently communicating with you that there is a very good chance that he is already at the castle, no doubt in audience with the Prince, planning his future.

And your own.

“Shall we? I am under strict orders that you be there by nightfall, my lady.”

He holds out his arm, Dominic giving you a slight nudge before you take it. You don’t turn around, your head held high. You’re aware that your father is watching, moving as regal as a queen.

The Drysdale soldiers keep their eyes on you, opening the door of the ornately carved carriage for you to step inside. Your calm nature belies your true feelings, your thoughts like a thunderstorm, the door closed and secure before the soldiers step away.

“Don’t worry,” Dominic murmurs, untying his horse. “I’ll be right there with you.”

He cannot mourn the old house that you will never see again. With the new titles come new land and your father and uncle are keen to move into the new keeps that await them, something they have not told your mother.

Or you.

He cannot bring himself to tell you the truth. Not yet, at least. Your garden has been picked clean, the rest of the villagers carefully picking what is left. Remembering your plant, he heads back to the space, only to find nothing there, as if it never existed.

Ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of his head, he mounts his horse, easing him into a gallop to catch up with the carriage.

“Your uncle’s promises about your beauty did not do you justice,” Lord Emeric praises with a warm smile. “All these years… hidden away. One must wonder why your father hid such a treasure.”

“My uncle tends to get ahead of himself.”

“On the contrary, he did not say enough. The Prince will be delighted to see you. You are very fortunate, my lady. Handpicked by the Prince himself.”

“Handpicked?” you ask incredulously. “My uncle led me to believe it was his doing.”

“Pardon my bluntness, my lady. But your uncle is not the one who is the master of the strings, as much as he desires to be.”

You allow him a small smile, one that he returns.

“I take it that you feel like you’re between two worlds,” Lord Emeric hints with a sigh. “You’d be correct in that. Greymount is strong and secure. But inside the walls, I fear there are many political alliances that need to be mended. With the death of the King and his… mysterious disappearance, we will look to you to build those broken partnerships by the Prince’s side.”

“Disappearance?”

“Yes. His body went missing a day after his death. Some say it was his followers who are still in mourning. And others…” Lord Emeric trails off, shaking his head with an fleeting thought.

“What?”

“You may as well know the truth of it. There are some who believe that he was assassinated.”

“Assassinated?”

“King Richard lived a very… rich life. He had many health issues, as I can attest to. I’m informing you now so that you are not caught off guard by any of the servants that may be attending you. I trust that this conversation will never reach the Prince. He cared very much for his father and I believe that to bring this up would cause him considerable pain.”

“Yes, of course. Between us,” you promise.

Hanad stands at the balcony with the Prince, looking down on the procession below. It’s fitting, enough for Hanad to smile widely.

“Looking forward to seeing your niece, Lord Hanad?” Ransom asks. “I trust this welcome fits your expectations.”

“I could not ask for more, Your Majesty,” Hanad says, bowing his head in appreciation. “I assure you I had no expectations.”

“Hmm,” Ransom hums, looking toward his uncle. “No expectations, indeed.”

He leaves Hanad, heading toward the castle doors to greet you and Lord Emeric.

Eager is he to hear what his Chancellor will say about you. He is curious to find out what you look like. A maiden past the years of what he is accustomed to has him on guard. He half expects you to be an old maid, hair of gray and missing teeth. Hanad has assured him you are still of fertile age, capable of bearing him a son.

He meets the carriage as it stops, the door opening as his Lord Chancellor gives him a knowing glance.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Emeric begins, holding your hand to assist you up. “May I present Lord Kulane’s daughter.”

Your name sounds heavenly, Ransom staring as you pull the hood back from your cloak.

There is no old maid for him to meet. Only a beautiful woman with intense eyes that does not offer him a smile but rather a knowing glance at the balcony before he helps you out of the carriage. Your youth belies your years, something Hanad had failed to mention.

You curtsy, smooth and refined, much better than the courtiers that have been trained to do so.

Ransom is pleased by the stares of his nobles. He’d sooner toss them to his beloved pets should they have looked at you a different way but he sees it, the way the ladies pause and the men’s stares linger a little too long.

Envy.

“Your Majesty,” you greet him. “It is my pleasure to meet you.”

“I assure you the pleasure is mine,” Ransom answers, reaching for your hand. “Let the servants take your things. Let us walk.”

Dominic takes a step forward, Ransom’s head turning at the sound. He is aware of the bond between brother and sister but he is also keenly aware that your brother did not want this meeting to take place, per Hanad’s confession.

“Ser Dominic, I presume? Your sister is in good hands, I assure you,” he replies, nearly mocking in his tone. “My Lord Emeric, show Ser Dominic around, won’t you?”

Birds trill in the distance, the Prince stopping at a maze of thick, lush, greenery. He’s handsome, that much you will allow. But as he stares, you’re aware that it feels like he’s searching for something, perhaps an answer, without saying a single word.

You decide to oblige him, slowing your steps at the entrance of the maze.

“Why me, Your Majesty?” you ask, the Prince stopping at your question. He seems intrigued by your question.

“Why what?”

He wants you to say it, the way he pauses, his tongue running over his lips. There’s something about him that you want to observe, to pick and prod until you find your answer.

“I am not unaware of my uncle’s yearning for a sit at your council. Though I do question why you would choose me when I am older, much wiser to the politics of men than a mere maid who lives to make her father happy.”

“And yet you’re here,” he reminds you. “And what good is a younger maiden who may be swayed by what others can offer? When you’re younger, everything on the table looks good enough to devour. But as one grows wiser, there is an appreciation and understand of which fruit you choose to eat.”

He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently as it lingers just enough for you to get goosebumps. A loud roar cuts through the air, making you step back in surprise before he smiles.

“Ah, my pets,” he assures you. “I believe it is feeding time.”

Looking back at the sound, you see only a tall wall, turning around to see that he’s vanished completely.

The two moons shine brightly in the night sky, Dominic slipping away to your chambers, your vision clear as you guide him. He climbs every step, the door opening before he has a chance to knock.

“You’ve pleased him,” Dominic tells you, shutting the door to your vast room. “The servants say he is captivated by you.”

Candles light the way to the roaring fireplace, your gown trailing behind you, grabbing a pot from the balcony. You don’t answer his praise, cradling the pot close.

“Hardwinds bring darkness,” you remind him, Dominic nodding in agreement as the black gnarled root has sprouted two new branches. “The earth confirms it.”

Your hand hovers over the root before you guide his own over it. He can feel the coldness, your eyes watching a leaf unfurl from the branch.

“His power grows,” you whisper. “You can feel it, can’t you?”

Looking up the moonlight, Dominic swallows, the confession on his tongue before he looks around the room.

“Are all these gifts from the Prince?”

“Yes,” you reply, still looking at the plant. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“You haven’t said a word about him. Or a single thought.”

“He…” you trail off, blinking as you grip the pot. “He disappeared.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I was walking with him. I heard a sound and when I turned around, he had gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes.”

Pulling the plant away and placing it on the balcony, you can feel your brother behind you.

“And where is our beloved uncle?” you ask.

“Secret meeting with the Lord of Formad, though not as secret as he likes it to be. He has yet to learn the art of keeping silent. Being a knight of this realm means you become a close acquaintance to those who look for any sort of goodwill. Even if I have no political sway.”

“Formad. What does uncle want with him? Father had turned him away years ago when he tried to buy our land,” you remind him. “Even if Hanad wants a meeting with him, Father would deny him.”

Dominic stands next to you, nodding at the lanterns that move down the rocky steps.

“You’ve yet to learn about alliances,” Dominic mutters, his hand on his sword. “Or perhaps, you are not aware of how brazen our uncle truly can be. He seeks an audience with Formad because he wishes to have a spot at the council’s table. Formad can make that happen.”

“How?”

“In my travels, Formad has made it known that he had once desired to be the Lord Chancellor. He believes that it was wrongly appointed and aims to reclaim what he rightly believes is his.”

“Hanad would not be swayed so easily. He has his meetings with the Prince. What would he have wanted with Formad?”

“Which can all be taken away by the Lord Chancellor. Our uncle may strive for a seat at the table but it starts with alliances. If he earns favor with Formad, he will be invited into his home, to build up his own house, to have powerful men at his own table,” Dominic explains. “And all he’ll have to do is what he does best once he’s built it up. Command and take.”

“And what of Formad if he rebuffs our uncle?”

“I don’t have an answer for that. But I know he will try his hardest to win him over tonight.”

“Will he?” you ask, plucking the leaf from the branch and crushing it under your fingers.

Somewhere down below, a shout of pain carries on the wind, catching Dominic’s attention.

#lulu reads #ransom drysdale x reader #medieval au #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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Oh HELL YES I am vibing with this so hard. Medieval king Ransom?!? Witchy reader? Sign me the fuck up.

This is seriously so well written I am already in love with it.

reign - i.

I wanted to write something out of my comfort zone and a fantasy medieval AU is at the top of the list. I'm nervous as hell to post it but hey, it's only the first chapter and if it doesn't get traction then at least I tried. If you do like it, let me know.

So, I offer you then, the first chapter of a GOT/HotD inspired fic.

King! Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, family toxicity, incoming dread, talk of menstruation, world building.

Summary | After the untimely death of the King, a family is thrown into a dangerous game of politics, navigated by a man who offers up his niece as a bargaining chip to secure his place in the realm.

Hardwinds.

He knows, not of his own understanding but of hers, that the winds that are coming can lead to death. The cold rushes through the trees, snapping branches above as his horse, Valor, gallops toward a clearing to escape the incoming change in the weather.

These winds have toppled riders from their horses, slamming them against the trees. The cold can rip through clothing, tear at the skin and burrow into flesh, cleaving it away from bone.

He’s seen the skeletons of the men who went against your word, their bones weathered by the winds.

Only when he sees a familiar path, the soft sound of your voice that seems to lead the way, do the winds stop.

As children, you both used to play in the forest. Older by a whole ten minutes, Dominic used to watch you freeze, eyes wide with terror at the sound of the branches snapping above, the leaves rustling before you would take off.

“Hardwinds,” you’d whisper to him as a child, pulling him along to get out of the forest, the familiar howl of the trees sending goosebumps down his arms.

He’d ignored you once, the wind lifting him from the ground, carrying him a few feet before he crashed against a rock.

He bears the same scar to this day, a reminder that you were one with the earth. No one else knew when the hardwinds would start.

Those that heeded your warning survived.

Those who ignored it had paid with their lives.

You sense him before you see him, eyes closing as the air stills around you. Your heartbeat quickens before you finally hear the sound of the gate opening, pressing your palms to the ground in appreciation.

He’s weathered now, his armor marred in places that you don’t want to think about. A warrior through and through but still your brother, his smile wide at the sight of you, looking at the beautiful garden that seems to get more vibrant every time he comes home.

“Every time I visit, I think you’ll be gone. Married, off with a husband and maybe a child.”

“I’m old now,” you muse, fingers coasting over the dirt as you make a circle. “Lest you forget.”

“Hardly,” Dominic counters, crouching down to look at the garden. “Thirty odd trips around the sun does not make you an old maid. It makes you wiser than the girls who have their first bleeds, the ones their parents push forward for nobles once they finally come of age.”

“Dominic! Where did you learn such language?”

He shakes his head, lifting you up, brushing the dirt from your skirts.

“I’ll tell you something, sister. There are certain men I keep my distance from. Things I outright deny when they are brought to me. Unnatural appetites. Thank the Gods for our parents who’ve kept you safe.”

You say nothing at his disgusted expression, wiping your hands on a cloth carefully.

“You haven’t been back for some time. What caused this special occasion?”

“Our Uncle is coming,” he replies, his mouth set in a frown. “He brings great news, as he claims in his letter. Father is curious so we will have an audience with him tonight.”

“You don’t trust him.”

“No,” Dominic answers quietly. “I don’t.”

He stares at the small plod of dirt that you’ve patted down. Concern ripples across his face, staring back at you as his eyes narrow.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know,” you respond. “A feeling. A seed to show what is coming.”

“That sounds ominous,” he replies, leading you back toward the house. “When will it sprout?”

“When darkness is near,” you answer, walking with him, unaware of the black sprout that pokes through the dirt.

Dominic cannot help but stare at his uncle, Hanad, who sits at the head of the table while he finishes his wine. As always, your father, Kulane, sees to his comforts, even if he doesn’t deserve them. While your family lives in poverty, he curries favor with the King, inching ever closer to sitting with the council of men that Dominic despises.

The fire crackles behind him, Hanad placing his goblet down as he looks at his brother and nephew. His beard is adorned with gold, a gift from the Templed Isle, a place he visits often but shares little about his time there.

After a moment, he clears his throat, looking around at the small space.

“Where is my niece? I thought she would come and welcome me. Unless her time is occupied with her potions and mystical learnings,” Hanad says with a smirk.

“What do you need her for?” Dominic inquires. “You sought an audience with Father and myself, not her.”

“I sought an audience with my brother,” Hanad emphasizes. “You are here only because I want you to hear this proposition. Which, I suppose, we will do well to not have your sister in attendance. Least not at the moment.”

“What is this proposition that you speak of?” Kulane asks, motioning for both Dominic and Hanad to sit. “And what does this have to do with my daughter?”

Almost gleefully, Hanad leans forward, eyes nearly sparkling with interest.

“Let me paint you a tale of where we have found ourselves. The Drysdale empire has long overshadowed our village. We are conscripted into service, to fight wars that they will not. Send our children,” Hanad reminds Kulane, nodding at Dominic, who clenches his jaw. “To shed blood and cut off our lineages. And for what? While we lose our namesakes, our flesh and blood, they turn to more greed, more wars to line their pockets with silver that we will never see. That changes now.”

“What are you talking about?” Kulane questions, Hanad smiling at his brother’s confused expression.

“King Richard is dead.”

Silence falls at Hanad’s admission.

“Felled by his own son. Ransom,” Hanad finishes.

Kulane shakes his head gravelly, hands to his head as he tries to sort out what his brother has told him, anger flickering across his features before he lifts his head, trying to keep his voice even and calm.

“You come into my house to tell me lies?”

“I would never lie to you, brother. I saw it with my own eyes. Poisoned by his only child.”

“And yet you live to tell the tale and leave alive,” Dominic interrupts. “How very fortunate, Uncle.”

“I lived to tell the tale because I offered the soon to be king a proposition. My silence and fealty to the new king if he marries my niece.”

“What?!” Dominic shouts, leaping up from his seat. “What are you talking about?”

“Do not interrupt me, boy,” Hanad warns, Kulane holding out his hand to stop his son. “I am no fool. She is still a maiden. Older than the usual ones the prince has been with, but she is untouched. Innocent to the ways of men. I am not blind to my niece’s beauty. You’ve hidden her away for so long that she’s been forgotten about. I intend to change that.”

“And you would send her into the lion’s den,” Dominic spits. “You speak of losing flesh and blood, but you have no qualms about using her for your own advantage.”

“This is not about me. This is about our family. These are how dynasties and empires are made. A once in a lifetime event and those who are fortunate enough to have it must make quick measures to protect and uplift their family line. I will do that for our family. Even if you won’t.”

“So you aren’t asking,” Kulane reminds his brother. “You wish to take her away to the palace. Parade her around as a potential bride. What if Ransom denies her?”

“Father, you can’t be serious, do you understand -”

Hanad raises his hand for silence.

“He will not deny her. Upon my speaking to him, you and I have been made Lords, brother. Dominic, despite my reservations, has been made a knight.”

“My boy,” Kulane begins, looking up at his distressed son as he pauses for a moment, looking down at the table. “We have so little in our lives. If the journey of becoming noble is a pathway with thorns and deceit, then we must make our own way of it. Find our own integrity.”

“Integrity would not be allowing this proposition. Not letting my sister be sacrificed. In the end, she is the one who will pay. You know that.”

“She will become queen,” Hanad snaps, his hand slamming on the table. “Not the daughter of a Lord, a sister of a knight. She will be exalted higher than any of us. She will rule at his side.”

“He’s a murderer,” Dominic argues, Kulane holding up his hand again for silence.

“And we will keep his secret,” Kulane agrees, looking at his brother before looking at his son. “She must never know about what has occurred.”

“She’s not stupid. She’ll know.”

“Then you hold your tongue,” Hanad commands. “Or she shall find herself an only child.”

The night air sends a chill through your body, wrapping your robe around you for warmth, holding the lantern carefully, the light guiding your path. Lack of sleep only breeds more concern, pushing open the gate to the garden, walking slowly toward the patch of dirt that you’d buried the seed in earlier.

A black gnarled root juts out from the earth, your eyes focusing on it, crouching down to inspect further.

“What dirt needs tending to at night?” your uncle asks softly.

Looking back at him, you straight up, hiding the gnarled root behind your robe.

“I thought I left something behind.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

Looking behind you, the root begins to grow, looking back to face him as you answer.

“No.”

#lulu reads #ransom drysdale x reader #medieval au #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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yoooooo that shit was so good everybody pop over to AO3 immediately for a dark and spooky bucky/steve/clark bonanza

i can’t reblog the fic because it’s on a03 but @xsapphirescrollsx put her whole foot in Hallow’s Eve, and literally everyone should read it

#lulu reads #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #clark kent x reader #darkfic #fic recs

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disturbedbydesign-ficrecs · 3 years ago

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OMG K!!! I need like a 100K besties to lovers slow burn of these two I am obsessed with this. He loves her eye crusties! I'm losing my fucking mind with this it's so fucking sweet but also I want them to bang it out so bad.

Come On, Angel

Summary: You and Eddie have been exhausted, and sometimes a nice long nap is exactly what you need.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Female!Reader

Warning: Fluff, sooooo much fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers (kinda, nothing happens but it's lowkey understood that they're in love with each other), cuddling, forehead kisses, Eddie and Reader being in love with each other and showing it in sweet ways, one mention of masturbation but it's not even graphic, Eddie has been having nightmares but doesn't know what they're about (S4 doesn't happen in this. He's safe and loved and always will be), slight angst, pet names, just—nice things.

Word count: 2,209

A/N: Oh my goodness, I loved writing this one, ok? This was so much fun. It made me feel all sorts of nice things, and I hope it makes you feel all those nice things too. This is based on a thot I shared with my bestie P!R Anon that I just couldn't help but expand. They put up with a lot of my ramblings and they're amazing for that. And so! I hereby dedicate this slice of heaven to them. Here you go, bestie. Enjoy!

Kisses💋

— K

“If I only could, I’d make a deal with God, and I’d get him to swap our places…” Eddie mumbles under his breath with the radio, silently cursing Max for playing that damn cassette so many times. The drive through the slowly chilling streets of the trailer park was quiet, a few solitary cars and trucks passing Eddie’s prized van as he made the journey to your trailer. With the sun dipping low behind the trees, the shadows and wind bit harder than normal and told of a fast approaching winter.

Your trailer was a familiar shape at the end of the road, a beacon of comfort that pushed his foot on the pedal hoping to cut the journey as short as possible. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long before he was slamming the rusty van into park, shutting off Kate Bush, and hopping out of the driver’s seat with that impish grin that never seemed to leave his face around you. The door was locked, which didn’t deter him in the slightest. He pulled the mess of keys from his jacket pocket and found the copy you’d given him a few years ago, just after you moved into your own trailer. The moment you gave it to him, he swore that he wouldn’t let it out of his sight, and, surprisingly, he hasn’t.

“Helloooo!” He calls as he pushes the door open. He waits for a second for a response but when he gets none he slips his jacket and vest on the couch, heading for your bedroom.

“Lucy, I’m hooooome!” He sings as he pokes his head into your room, immediately regretting the loudness of his voice. He hears a soft chuckle from the lump of blankets on your bed, your limbs slowly stretching as you peel back the duvet from your sleepy face. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, much softer this time.

“Hey,” you croak, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you click on the lamp next to your bed, “whatcha up to, Munson? No good?”

“Oh, yeah, you know me; scaring housewives, stealing cats, sacrificing goats—the whole nine yards, babe.” He grins and slides his hands into his pockets. You giggle again at his silliness and let yourself take him in in all his glory. Eddie Munson looked far too handsome leaning against your doorframe, his frizzy, wild hair illuminated from the light behind him (God, was he an Angel?), dressed in his usual uniform: a well-loved Hellfire t-shirt, black jeans, that God-awful handcuff belt that you secretly loved, and the same pair of white sneakers that he’s had since his junior year.

“The poor thing, you must be exhausted,” you yawn, even with sleep still heavy in your system you could see that he was tired.

“Nah,” he winks with a shake of his head, noting how adorable you look swaddled in your blanket. The thought is quickly tossed aside as quickly as he thought it, he shouldn’t think of you like that, you were his best friend. He pulls his keys from his back pocket. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll leave you to your nest, sweetheart.”

“Noooo, com’ere,” you tiredly beckon to him with a soft smile, “join me in the nest.”

“What?” He pushes off the doorframe to make his way to kneel beside your bed, the grabby hand you make at him has his own hand itching to hold yours. He rests his chin on the edge of your bed, his hands folded neatly.

“Stay. Nap,” you say, sitting up on your elbow, “I know you need it, I can see your eye bags without my glasses on.”

“Ok, see, that’s not how to get me into bed with you,” he jokes with a laugh, easily making you laugh with him. He hadn’t been sleeping very well lately, strange nightmares about strange looking bats and massive basilisk-like vines kept him from getting good rest. Then he spent his days toiling away in the garage.

“Com’on, just a small nap,” you pet his arm gently, trying to lure him into agreeing. It was working.

“I don’t have pajamas,” he points out, already caving to your suggestion, you could suggest he take a flying leap and he just might. He straightens up so your eyes are level, subtly searching for more of your warmth.

“Just ditch the jeans and t-shirt, and sleep in your boxers—which I assume you’re 100% wearing?” You suspiciously raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, mom, I’m wearing underwear,” Eddie sasses at the accusatory tone of your voice.

“Good! Then you can sleep in those,” you rationalize, your sleepy brain may not make the best choices, but goodness, you were sleepy and you could tell Eddie was too. He clicks his tongue with a heavy sigh, feigning defeat.

“Alright,” he pulls himself standing and reaches for the hem of his shirt. “Avert your eyes, sweetheart, the show ain’t free.”

“Boooooooo,” you groan and cover your face with a blanket before flopping back on the bed dramatically, earning a chuckle from the metalhead. He was thankful you covered your face so he can blush in private. You’d seen him in his boxers many times before, but this would be the first time he’d be in bed with you, while practically naked. ‘She’s in her pjs, it’ll be fine,’ he tells himself and tugs off his Hellfire shirt. He quickly strips down to his checkered boxers, the chill of the room nips at his skin and leaves him with goosebumps, it mixes with the perpetual exhaustion in his bones.

Yeah, a warm bed sounds like heaven right now.

“Done yet?” And there was an angel. As soon as the blanket was over your face, you felt a fresh wave of tiredness crash down on you.

“Mmhmm,” he hums, trying to remain as calm as possible to fight off the blush that desperately wants to return. You throw open your blankets for him to climb in, reaching for him on instinct.

Eddie smiles as soon as he sees your pajamas; one of his favorite shirts that mysteriously went missing a week ago and, he hopes to God, a pretty pair of panties. He’s never seen anything more gorgeous than you in his clothes, but you sleeping in his clothes? Oh, he’d pay good money to see that every day for the rest of his life.

He lets you gently guide him into the spot next to you before he scoops you up to hold you a little closer, an uncontrollable shiver racing up his spine. Boy, he was cold. You nuzzle deeper into his hold on instinct, the feeling of his arms around you always sent your heart a-flutter. The chilled skin of his chest pressed into your cheek as you snuggled in, your hand coming to his arm to rub his skin warm.

“My God, Munson, are you made of ice?” You joke and curl yourself around him, slinging your leg over his. You swallow lightly when you feel his bare thigh against yours, the light dusting of hair scratched against you ever so softly. If you weren’t so sleepy, you’d be having a mini heart attack right about now.

“Well, they do say I’m cold hearted,” he teases through a yawn, his eyes getting heavier and heavier with each breath. He hears you hum out a tired laugh but he can barely focus on anything except your leg in his lap and the rhythmic thumpthumpthump of your chest against his.

There’s a spell of comfortable silence. The room is filled with slowly deepening breaths and two heartbeats. Sleep takes hold of you quickly, your eyes already shut and dreams just about to start. Eddie catches himself dozing and has enough sense to carefully shut the lamp off before relaxing again.

As soon as the room was dark, sleep came to him and carried him off.

~~~~~~

There’s laughter. And sunshine. And his favorite Metallica record playing. He remembers you in the passenger seat of his van, passing him a spoon with ice cream on it. He remembers eating the spoonful of chocolate ice cream while never looking away from you. You were smiling at him, and, God, it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The light was red, there was no danger. No bats, or vines or whatever the fuck they were. It was just the two of you and a bowl of chocolate ice cream. What more could he want?

Soft movement twitched in his limbs as he slowly came back from the dream realm. His head was resting on something soft, tresses of his brown hair covered his face but he couldn’t be bothered to move them yet. He felt you stir with him, wakefulness rising in you both. The feeling of his head on your chest was what you could only describe as perfect. You laid on your back with Eddie resting on top of you, his arms bracketing your sides, hands holding the fabric of your shirt that had ridden up in the night. Your legs were spread comfortably for him to fit between.

With a gentle stretch, you run your hands across his naked shoulders idly. The soothing touch igniting awareness in Eddie as he finally blinks his eyes open. The sun was peeking through the light curtains of your room, the morning birds singing their happy songs in the trees outside. He purrs when you bring one hand to his face, brushing the hair out of his eyes for him. Oh, yeah, he liked that.

“G’mornin’, Princess,” he rasps, not bothering to move from his spot yet. If he were honest, he wouldn’t move for all eternity if it were up to him.

“Morning, Ed,” you mumble back with a yawn, still rubbing his back as you finally open your own eyes to stare at your ceiling.

“'Just a nap,’ huh?” He yawns, his own hand moving to stroke your side, “now, I may not be a smart man, but that was way longer than a nap.”

“Well, we needed it,” you respond with a small smile, the feeling of his calloused hands gliding over the heated skin of your side was equal parts comforting and intoxicating. Eddie let out an affirmative grumble before lifting his head, resting his chin on your sternum. The sight that greets him nearly knocks him on his ass. Your hair is a mess, sleep has made your face plumper than normal, lines from your pillow run along the length of your cheek, eye crusties dot the inner corner of your gorgeous eyes. You look beautiful, like always, but you look real. And the fact that someone as perfect as you were, was real and currently playing with a knotted lock of his hair, blew his fucking mind.

While he was busy surveying your face, you were doing the same to him. Taking in his own puffy face, drool coated lips, wild hair, and glossy brown eyes. You came to the same conclusion, unbeknownst to you, that he was perfectly real. The smile that tugged at your lips was easy and held all the fondness you felt for the man in your bed. He saw it, the fondness that he hasn’t found anywhere else in the world.

“Sleep good?” You ask, the tension in the room was too much for you to take any longer. It was enough for Eddie to come back to reality.

“Like a baby,” he hums and stretches his arms out before propping himself up on his forearms with a sigh. “We are so doing that again,” he says with a playful smirk.

“Definitely,” you chuckle in agreement and rub your face clear of any left over sleep crusties. It’s then that Eddie realizes that he’s on top of you, he glances between you to see your shirt rucked up, revealing a pair of plain black cotton panties adorning your hips. He bites his lip and takes as many mental pictures as he can for some at at home solo activities. He’s quick to pull his mind out of the gutter when he hears your tummy rumble.

“Hungry?” He asks, you hum and nod. “One ‘Eddie Special,’ coming right up!” He kisses your forehead, it was too tempting to ignore, before getting up and heading for your kitchen. You listen to the sound of his rummaging through your kitchen and decide to switch on your stereo next to your bed. The normally harsh sounds of heavy metal guitars and drums is a quiet hum when Eddie returns. He comes back with a bowl of your favorite cereal, a banana, and a fresh cup of water— all balanced in his two hands.

“Wooooow, room service? I should let you sleep in my bed more often,” you reach for the glass of water first and gulp it down. He gets back in bed, being extra careful of the milk in the bowl.

“Yes, you should,” he grumbles through a mouthful of cereal before handing you the bowl. You laugh and dig in, letting the morning go on at a comfortable pace. It’s just the two of you and a bowl of cereal.

What more could he want?

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#lulu reads #eddie munson x reader #fic recs

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