#raymond smith fic

[laurfilijames]

Expensive

Pairing: Raymond Smith x female reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol. Fingering and oral sex (F receiving). Light dom/sub dynamics. Unprotected intercourse. Name calling (slut).

Summary: PWP but with feelings. Some saucy fun in lavish lingerie and a romp on the floor in front of the fireplace with our generous gentleman Ray.

A/N: I finally did it. I wrote for Raymondo. I've wanted to ever since I first watched The Gentlemen and finally landed an idea to have fun with. Enjoy!

---

Ray knew you were there before he even stepped foot inside the house.

It wasn’t planned; no discussion was had about you paying him a visit or spending time together tonight, but he had caught on to your devious plan by the tone of your voice when he spoke on the phone with you earlier, your excitement in your scheming not slipping past him.

He didn’t miss much, always attentive and observant to anything going on around him, but when it came to you he didn’t ever miss a thing.

He walked quietly to the porch, the sound of his shoes crunching against the wet grit on the bricks and the softness of the steady rain hitting his jacket the only noises registering in his ears, and unlocked the door just as he did any other night, though knowing you were waiting for him inside made his homecoming after a long day that much more appealing.

The intoxicating scent of your perfume hit him as soon as he stepped through the threshold, the smell of it so familiar and welcoming even with it being faint in the distance between where he assumed you waited for him in the living room and the entryway.

Not wanting to ruin your fun by not playing along with your little game, Ray walked through to the kitchen, acting as if he didn’t notice that your coat was draped over the back of one of the chairs or that you’d already helped yourself to the bottle of wine that he had a glass out of the night before; the level of the crisp red now sitting at the halfway mark rather than just below the neck.

He opened the cupboard that kept his glassware, reaching for one glass, then a second, a smile tugging at his lips when he heard your short, disappointed sigh.

“Spoilsport.”

“You quite like making yourself at home, don't you?” he asked, eyebrows raised as he filled both glasses with water; hydration favoured over the craveable taste of wine or scotch for the games he intended to play next.

“Breaking and entering is a felony…” he purred, removing his jacket while maintaining eye contact with you.

“It isn’t when the homeowner has gifted you the key needed to open the front door whenever you please.”

He sighed, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “I told you I was busy.”

“I don't like being told no.”

Ray grabbed the water glasses and slowly made his way into the living room, depositing one on the small table beside the chair you were sprawled out in wearing nothing but a stunning set of lingerie.

He blinked quickly, a display of his rising frenzy, turning on his heels and taking a seat on the chair opposite you after looking you up and down.

You smiled, watching him cross his legs and fold his hands in his lap, staring at you intently like he was blatantly ignoring the fact that you were nearly naked and the balcony-style bra barely covered your nipples, the material that did cover them see-through.

“You don’t like being told no,” he spoke slowly, repeating your words to clarify or mock, you weren’t sure.

“No,” you said through a grin, uncrossing and recrossing your own legs to show off your crotchless panties, running your finger teasingly up along your stockings before adjusting the clips that connected them to the garter belt around your waist.

A groan that was hardly audible sounded from him as he sighed, taking a long sip out of his glass while watching you over the rim.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, rising from his seat where he unbuttoned his cardigan and peeled it off his broad shoulders, revealing another layer of pristine clothing underneath.

“I’m quite certain a smart man such as yourself can think of something.”

“Flattery won’t help you now, darling,” he warned, having stalked over to you where he hovered above you dominantly.

“I appreciate you using a coaster,” he nodded to your wine glass. “At least you listen to some of the things you’re told.”

You sucked in a sharp breath in amusement at his comment, clasping the long-stemmed glass in question where you brought it to your ruby coloured lips.

“I strive to be a good girl.”

“You’re going to need to prove that.”

Ray couldn’t help but smirk, not at all serious about being displeased that you were here, feeling quite the opposite, in fact, even if you weren’t primed and ready to provide him with anything he asked.

He had regretted it immediately when he told you that morning that you wouldn't be seeing each other tonight, the usual comforting warmth of his tea tasting bitter on his tongue after he had said it, knowing all the while that all he really wanted was to relax with you and indulge in every simple pleasure imaginable, his chest tightening with hope that you would be your defiant self when you accepted his denial with a simple and suspiciously bright ‘okay’.

You returned his smile, shifting slightly in your seat on account of how adoringly he was looking at you, your arousal and need for him growing as you watched him unfasten the buttons on each cuff of his shirtsleeves and began rolling them up his toned forearms.

The wearied look in his eyes was highlighted by his glasses, his features appearing more serious than they usually were, making your heart ache in wanting to take away whatever it was that was worrying him.

“You look expensive,” he spoke quietly, almost a whisper, his focus still on his shirt as he rolled the second sleeve neatly to his elbow.

“I am expensive, Ray,” you quipped, your tone light but quiet as well.

One eyebrow rose at your answer, his head tilting slightly as his arms fell back to his side and he straightened himself, looking down at you.

You reached forward, smoothing your hand over his stomach, unfastening the buttons on his waistcoat effortlessly before grabbing onto his tie to pull him closer to you.

The smell of his almost worn off cologne and rich beard oil mixed with a sweeter hint of tobacco and marijuana, awakening more desire in you and making you draw in a deeper breath to try to capture more of it, of him, as you brought your face closer to his body, his warmth radiating off of him and making you moan softly.

Ray followed your silent directions as you continued to tug on his tie, kneeling in front of you, his blue eyes warm and bright compared to how they appeared a short moment ago.

Your body tensed slightly when his hands landed on your knees, his thumbs brushing them gently while you pulled the knot out of his tie and slipped it from his collar, admiring every part of his chest that was revealed to you as you undid each button on his striped shirt that now held wrinkles in it despite having been meticulously ironed that morning.

“What’s the price?” Ray inquired, running his long fingers up your thigh to make it tremble under his soft strokes.

You smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, slipping your hands under his shirt to caress over his strong, smooth muscles.

Watching his eyelids fall shut as he relaxed into your touch, you continued to rub him, moving everywhere you could from his neck down to the flaxen hairs that crept out from the top of his jeans, and back up again where you found his steady heartbeat.

You stilled, your palm resting where his heart began to thump harder against it, his eyes opening in realization as to what your price was.

He smiled, bringing out the creases around his eyes and mouth, a twinkle shining in them that made your own heart leap. His hands came up to hold your cheeks, his eyes traveling down from yours to your lips, his tongue peeking out to lick his own quickly before he leaned forward and kissed you.

It was almost liberating to think that you didn't have a clue that he had settled the cost pretty much the moment he met you, that he would continue to pay with it over and over until you did realize you had captured his solitary heart, but in the meantime he would take every bit of joy out of pretending he owed you a fortune of his love.

You sighed into his kiss, any tension you felt leaving your body as you relished in the feel of his tongue and the softness of his beard on your chin and lips, arching your back in order to get yourself closer to him and deepen it.

Continuing to kiss until many moments were gone unnoticed, you tangled your fingers in his neatly fixed hair, disrupting it enough that your nails ran over his scalp and sent tingles down his spine, rousing him from this alluring inebriation.

A low growl sounded from him as he dug his fingers into the flesh on your thighs, looking at you with a dark hunger that sparked your soul and every other wanton desire waiting to be set free.

“Stand up, turn around, and bend over.”

His demand came out between heaving breaths, his resolve quickly tumbling apart before you, and with a sweet smile and love in your eyes for the man you would obey without hesitation, you slowly stood.

Ray never broke eye contact with you, his dominance clear and resolute despite him being the one on his knees while you stood tall above him, a trusting assurance glowing in his crystal blue eyes that you always saw whenever you were with him.

Feeling reluctant to turn away from him but eager for what was next all at once, you did, biting your lip as you hinged at your hips and gripped the back of the chair you had been sitting in, leaning forward to stick your ass out invitingly.

You gasped, Ray’s lips and silky beard meeting the inside of your right thigh, peppering kisses up along it and back down again slowly, his mouth tracing the edge of your stocking.

The wood frame of the chair creaked under your grasp as Ray continued to tease you, his lips and hands sending you into a frenzy that you had to try to contain, your legs shifting to rub them together and present yourself even more to him.

“Patience,” he chimed, fully aware of what he was doing to you, making your head fall between your arms that braced in front of you.

The gold ring that sat on his pinky caught on your nylons as he ran his hand up the inside of your leg once more, the tip of his thumb grazing your folds with a teasing nudge that made you let out a breathy sigh when he reached the apex of them.

“You’re beautiful,” he praised, his confident and evenly-toned voice softer. “And you’re mine.”

You felt so powerful, knowing he was admiring every bit of you with genuine interest and affection, his attention to detail carried over to the most intimate parts of your body, all while reminding you of his claim on you that made you soar higher than ever.

“Fuck, Ray…” you hissed, your grip hardening on the chair as his nose skimmed beside your aching core, his long, slow inhale echoing loudly in your ears.

He groaned appreciatively when his tongue swiped through your wet, immediately going back for more with a second broad stroke, your legs already shaking from how good it felt.

Your whines grew as his tongue probed inside you, taking turns with angling his chin to reach the front of you and flicking your clit while his nose buried in your soaked cunt, the precision in his pattern and rhythm bringing you dangerously close to your climax.

He wouldn’t let you have it quite that easy though, and halting his feast on you, he gave one last lick around your puckered hole and slapped your cheek as he abandoned you completely, standing with a low groan.

Running a hand over his beard, he stared you down maliciously, amused at the sight of you still bent over and writhing, your core a soppy mess just waiting to be fucked by him.

“Go over there and wait for me,” he spoke steadily, a contrast from how his chest rose and fell sharply and his cheeks were tinged with a rosy blush.

Unsteady legs brought you over to the space in front of the fireplace, and you watched with a restlessness as Ray reached for a remote on the coffee table, pressing a button before placing it back in its spot.

The fireplace ignited with a loud fwoosh, the propane instantly bringing flames up to a roaring burn, the sound startling you and making you jump.

“Nothing to be afraid of…” he cooed, smirking at you, his playful reassurance making your need for him burst just as the fire had.

He stood there watching you for a moment, slowly peeling off his waistcoat that had been left open along with his shirt, leaving you unsure what to do with yourself in the meantime.

You let your hand travel slowly down your chest, grazing between your breasts and lower until you reached your exposed core, only to be stopped.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

Although you let out a huff, you did your best to hide your disappointment, willing patience to grace you as you continued to watch him undress himself layer by layer, and far slower than he needed to.

To make matters worse, Ray proceeded to neatly fold his clothes and place them on the sofa, effectively running up any patience you had mustered, leaving you to take in his perfectly sculpted body and his ivory skin that called for your lips to touch.

“Jesus, Ray…” you muttered, only to quiet yourself with the look he gave you.

He extended his finger, pointing at the floor beside you, unclasping his watch from his wrist with the other hand.

“On the ground.”

His order was calm and collected, as if you expected anything less from him, and you licked your lips as you sank down to the carpet that was already warm from the fire, feeling your arousal drip from you as you moved.

“Now,” he said, taking his glasses off and placing them carefully beside his pile of clothes. “What to do with you…” he pondered out loud, stalking over to you as he grasped his hard cock with his hand and began stroking it.

“Put me out of my fucking misery…” you complained under your breath, squirming on your knees.

He grinned, “Ah, just a naughty girl begging to have her cunt filled in.”

His accusation washed over you like a drug, making your attitude vanish as quickly as his words came off his tongue, unable but also not wanting to deny that what he said was completely true.

Standing tall in front of you now, he glanced down at you, his mouth parted slightly, his hand still pumping his shaft as he brought it close to your face.

“Yes, Ray,” you whispered, ready to beg and worship at his feet if you had to, feeling the most desperate you ever had for that cock and how intensely he always pleasured you.

He tapped his leaking head against your cheek, and you sucked in a deep breath, inhaling his musky scent as you subtly titled your head closer to his groin, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting all of him.

“As you wish.”

Ray stepped behind you, his finger tracing along your jawline softly so that your head tipped back, relishing in such a simple touch that would only be the beginning of so much more.

He joined you on the floor, kneeling directly behind you so his strong quads met the back of your thighs, his cock nudging at your folds to tease you. His hands wrapped around your front, one traveling upward while the other went down, landing on your throat and your hot cunt where he stopped, his mouth beside your ear.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, the depth of his voice making you shiver.

“You.”

His breath fanned out on your searing skin when he chuckled softly, “You have me.”

He kissed your neck, his lips slow to move but powerful in their action; sucking and pressing into your flesh, his teeth gliding along where your pulse hammered furiously.

You moaned, the sensation of his kisses and the way his deft fingers toyed with your nipple already making you insane with lust, and when he slipped his other fingers inside you, you prayed for him to never stop.

He always knew exactly how to build you up quickly, removing his fingers from you where he rubbed your clit with your slick while continuing to pinch your nipple through the thin lace of your bra, his cock sliding back and forth between your legs where it threatened to breach your entrance as he moved his hips.

Hazy from ecstasy, you didn’t notice when Ray had reached for a pillow off the chair beside you and placed it in front of you, the tartan fabric soft to your touch when you leaned forward and grabbed onto it with both hands.

“Fuck…” Ray hissed, admiring the view you provided him with as he stroked you from behind, his fingers easily sliding in and out of you again.

You moved down onto your elbows, thankful for his consideration for having them cushioned by the pillow and not the hardwood floor, but knew you would sacrifice having bruises mark your skin for this without question.

He exchanged his fingers for his cock, pressing his engorged head against your hole, smearing his precum onto you in slow, circular motions until he couldn't wait any longer.

A long moan came from him as he pushed his cock inside you, inch by inch, savouring every moment of it until he filled you completely. Slowly, he dragged back out, his cock coated in your milky wet that made his mouth water and eager for more, slamming back into you where you cried and jolted forward slightly from his force.

Ray didn’t hold back, letting out all of the day’s frustrations on you while also conveying everything you made him feel, thrusting into you harshly until a layer of sweat broke out over his skin.

It was difficult to keep yourself upright on your elbows, his vigorous tempo forcing you onto your chest, feeling his body lower down to cover your back where he kept up his brutal pace.

Gripping under your left leg, Ray guided it up to lay at an angle, his hand slipping under your body to reach around for your clit, massaging it with perfectly rough strokes while his cock pummeled your g-spot with each blow.

Spit smeared over the plaid pattern of the pillow, your mouth unable to control the evidence of your pleasure between that and your cries, the sound of your wet skin meeting with his sending you close to the edge.

“Ray…I’m- fuck! I’m close!” you wailed, the admission of it making your climax barrel forward faster.

You clenched around him, rolling your hips up and back against his in a hurried, desperate pace, the seconds of waiting for him to grant you permission feeling like a cruel eternity.

“Are you?” he asked, a hint of malice laced in his tone.

He stopped rubbing your clit, halting your orgasm in its tracks, your grip on the pillow loosening slightly as you whined in frustration.

“You know you’re to fucking ask,” he reminded you, his voice somehow calm and his expression composed as you glanced over your shoulder at him.

You dared to smile at him, making him tilt his head in warning and resume his barrage on you, fucking you harder than before.

“Fuck, Ray!” you whined, the rate at which he brought you right back to where he left you making you tingle from head to toe, that blissful heat coiling at the base of your spine.

Somehow, you managed to bring yourself back up onto your hands, meeting his thrusts with your hips in a frantic need, his hand returning between your legs to circle your swollen bud while his other tore at your chest, pulling at the lace covering your breasts until they fell out of their covering.

“Fuck!” he roared, pawing at your tits as they shook to his movements, his own climax not far off.

His grunts spurred you on, hearing how good you made him feel taking you to a place of no return, and you rushed to ask for your permission before it was too late.

“Can I come, Ray?” you cried, your words coming out as a weak and trembling mess as you did your best to hold off the inevitable.

“Yes! Fuck…” he breathed. “Come around that cock you fucking slut!” he growled, his pace increasing as he fucked you senseless, throwing you into one of the most intense orgasms he had ever given you.

You shuddered as you choked him with your cunt, grinding on his fingers that remained firm on your clit, feeling your high bring out his own as he pounded you harder and harder until he pulsed inside you, generously dragging out your climax with his.

Ray watched his cock slide in and out of you, creamy cum leaking out with it as he did, slowing his movements gradually as you both came down from your highs, the sound of your ragged breathing the only thing heard over the soft roar of the powered flames coming from the fireplace.

Sweat glistened in the dip of your lower back, and you couldn’t look more heavenly as you glowed from the heat on your skin and the wetness between your legs, your luxurious set of lingerie beautifully disheveled.

Trails of sweat dripped down his own body, and as he remained inside you until he no longer could, he smoothed his hair back with his hands, fixing the stray pieces that had been misplaced during his efforts.

He leaned over and retrieved his glasses from the sofa, replacing them on his face with a few quick blinks, watching out of the corner of his eye as you carefully stood on wobbly legs from your spot, trying not to make a mess on the expensive threads that were soft on your feet.

Ray gracefully laid down on the carpet, his chest rising and falling heavily as he relaxed, his hand splayed across his abdomen comfortably while the other arm rested above his head.

Nothing was said as you grabbed your bag where it sat against the wall between the living room and kitchen, getting your clothes out to get ready to make your exit, not wanting to disrupt Ray’s night more than you already had.

He sighed, his glasses pushing up as he pinched his nose with his fingers, wishing you didn’t feel the need to whisk yourself away like you were nothing more to him than something to wet his cock.

Taking a deep inhale and blowing it slowly out through his mouth, he tipped his head, able to watch you where he knew you had strategically placed yourself between pieces of furniture for him to see.

You were bent over, stepping your feet into your shoes after having slipped your skirt over your waist, your bare pussy that he had just finished ruining on full display in those crotchless panties Ray knew he would be thinking about for days after.

“Come back over here.”

His voice cut through the room with a demand to be heard, making you pause in reaching for your shirt, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’ll count to three.”

Once again, his warning came out far gentler than it should, his ability to so nonchalantly list off orders in that sultry voice making excitement bloom in your belly.

You turned on your heel to see him staring up at the ceiling, looking as divine as ever in the warm light of the fire that flickered over his features, his naked form a rare sight for anyone but you to see with it so frequently covered in layers of posh garments.

Ray was a bit recluse, and you didn't take his affection toward you for granted even for a second, smiling with a sense of pride and devotion as you kicked off your shoes and slowly made your way back over to the man your heart had begun to miss already.

He welcomed you by opening his arm, giving you space to tuck yourself up beside him, your head finding a spot on his chest where his heart thrummed in your ear.

“I wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place…” you reminded him, feeling slightly guilty over showing up unannounced.

Ray hummed, always carefully assessing whatever thoughts were about to pass through his lips, his thumb rubbing your arm languidly.

“No,” he blinked quickly, his tone lighter. “But I’m glad that you are.”

As much as Ray tried keeping things neat and tidy between you, he couldn’t ignore how tangled you had become in his soul, his thoughts distracted by you more times than he would care to admit or ever want the Boss to know of, something he swore would never happen taking place before his very eyes without any intention of stopping it.

Ray pressed a kiss to your temple, thinking how he had paid the price a long time ago with you, the expense of your love something he would go broke for a million times over, letting you take careful possession of the one thing he would never pay out to anyone else.

---

Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed reading this story! 💗

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @maggiemayhemnj @thedreadandthefugitivemind @rhoorl

[make-me-imagine]

Exactly My Type

Plot: When going to dinner at Raymond's for what you think is a work dinner, takes a turn.

Prompt: 'First Kiss'

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Gn!Reader

Requested By: @will-grammer

Warnings: Just the kiss.

Words: 1.5k

-

As you walked up the path to Raymond's front door, you tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. No matter how many times you saw him or spoke to him, they were always there.

After ringing the doorbell, you wiped your hands down your top, hoping you didn't over-dress for this dinner. It was only to discuss work, you needed to remind yourself of that. It wasn't a date, just a casual work meal.

As the door swung open, Raymond revealed himself to be in his usual suited appearance, though with an added apron draped from his neck.

He smiled "Right on time."

"Like usual." You added on with a smile, knowing he always appreciated punctuality.

He held open the door or you you stepped inside. You began to take off your jacket, but hesitated when you suddenly felt Raymond grab it from behind. Looking back, your eyes locked and he smiled as he helped you remove it. You felt a shiver run up your spine as his fingers grazed your skin through the fabric.

"Thanks." You muttered softly.

After he hung it up, you followed him into the kitchen. Looking around, it was just a spotless and pristine as usual. But your eyes lingered on a new addition. A bouquet of flowers sitting on the table.

You felt your chest tighten as you wondered who he got them for. You knew quite a lot about Raymond, but he never mentioned personal relationships. You wouldn't be surprised if he had a partner, though you would be lying if you said you didn't feel disappointment at the idea.

Sitting at the bar as Raymond got some glasses, you didn't have to say anything as he immediately prepared your favorite drink. You smiled to yourself as you noticed this, your cheeks warming up a bit.

Looking over to the stove you spoke up "Need any help?"

He shook his head as he placed the drink in font of you "It's done, just need to plate it."

He motioned his head to the dining room table, where you normally ate. Making your way over, you began to sat down, surprised again by Raymond sudden appearance behind you as he pulled out your chair for you. You smiled in thanks as he walked back to the kitchen.

After you began eating, you started to talk about the reason you came, but you were surprised to learn that Raymond had already begun to resolve the problem.

And every problem you brought up, he seemed to have a resolution for as well. You started to wonder why you were here at all.

"Are Mickey and Rosalind aware of all of this?"

He nodded "Yes, but they don't need to worry right now. They went to The Maldives for Valentines Day."

You hummed "Sounds nice. How long are they staying?"

"A week. I hope to have everything resolved before they return."

"I don't doubt you will."

You saw his mouth twitch up at this, and you felt your chest burn a little warmer.

After cleaning up from dinner you and Raymond continued to sit and talk, new drinks in hand. You couldn't stop your eyes from occasionally looking over at the flowers. You hated how the curiosity burned in your chest.

Finally finding the courage, you spoke, though with reserve heavy in your voice. "Are you doing anything? For Valentines Day?"

Raymond looked at you in silence for a moment before adjusting his glasses "Should I be?"

You shrugged and took a sip of your drink "Well, if you finish this business for Mickey, you could give yourself some time off as well." You motioned your head towards the flowers "Looks like you've already started planning."

Raymond looked over at the flowers and you noticed how he repressed a smile "I have."

Your chest clenched at this. You were hoping he'd deny it.

"That's why I already prepared everything like I said."

"Are you going to tell me about them?" You asked, feigning a smile and curiosity, hoping Raymond couldn't see through it to the pain you were actually hiding.

He sat back in his chair for a moment, seemingly considering if he should. Adjusting his glasses again he cleared his throat.

"I've known them for quite a while now. They aren't what they seem like on the outside. People tend to think there is nothing more to them, but they're always wrong, there is always more."

You could sense pride in his voice as he talked about them and you'd be lying if you didn't feel a little jealous.

"Is that what won you over?" You asked with a slightly joking tone.

He smiled and shook his head "Not just that. It's also their bravery, kindness, skill, willingness to help anyone they can. Not to mention their sense of humor."

You smiled at him "Sounds like they got it all."

"They do. But they don't realize it themselves."

Clearing his throat he stood up and walked over to the table. You watched him closely as he approached the flowers before he grabbed them, bringing them over.

Oh great, was he going to talk about them some more? Are these their favorite flowers? Maybe you shouldn't have pushed.

Walking up to you, he set the flowers down in front of you before he put his hands in his pockets. You could see them more clearly now than before. It was a mix of white roses, dark pink dahlias and light pink peonies.

Reaching up you gently touched them. These were some of your favorite flowers.

"They're beautiful, they'll love them."

Raymond smiled softly in amusement as he gazed down a you. You met his eyes and suddenly felt like you were see through.

"What?"

"There for you, you toss-pot."

You felt as though a jolt of electricity went through you "What?"

"I was talking about you." He smiled a bit wider.

"Y- You were?"

Moving past you, he sat in the chair beside you facing you, his knees pressed up against your leg.

"I didn't invite you to talk work, I just wanted to have dinner with you. And I hoped, somewhere along the way I'd get a chance to give you these."

He could see your brain working in overdrive as you remained speechless, putting it all together.

He continued to smile softly at you before he reached over and placed his hand on top of yours, slowly linking his fingers around yours.

"I hope this stunned silence is not leading up to a rejection."

Finally taking hold of yourself you shook your head. "No, it's not, I'm just really surprised."

"Why?"

You shrugged your shoulders as you smiled a bit bashfully "I didn't think I was your type."

He grinned "You're exactly my type."

Your heart started pounding in your chest as he reached towards your legs with his other hand. You repressed a grin as he turned you so you were facing him, your legs now pressed against his.

As his eyes stared into yours, your ears burned hot. You had never seen him look at you like this. You saw his eyes flick to your lips for a split-second and your heart skipped a beat.

"Raymond?"

"Yes?" He asked softly.

"Thank you for the flowers." You replied with a softer voice.

"You're very welcome." Tilting his head slightly his smile turned into more of a smirk "Now about Valentines Day."

You quirked your brow.

"You are free I hope?"

You smiled and nodded "Yes, I'm free."

"Good, I wasn't looking forward to having competition."

You chuckled and shook your head "No competition. No one could compete anyways."

He smiled and you swore you saw a blush crawl across his cheeks for a moment.

"So, Valentines Day?" You added on.

"Yes. What we will be doing is a secret. I just want to make sure you have the day free."

"The whole day?" You asked with lightly surprise and he shrugged his head. You leaned forward and spoke with a light sarcastic tone "Are you going to try and seduce me Raymond?"

He smirked and leaned in as well "I thought I already had."

You grinned "Bold assumption."

His smile grew as well and you saw his eyes flick to your lips again before his gaze held yours. He moved his face in closer, so your noses were almost touching.

"I suppose I should try harder then."

Leaning in in sync, your lips met and your heart jolted. Raymond's hand quickly rose to cup your face before he cupped your head, deepening the kiss. You laid your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating heavily. After a second, his other hand come up as he gently place it on top of yours, squeezing lightly.

After a few more moments, you parted, somewhat breathless. Your eyes locked as you both had soft smiles. Bringing his hand back to cup your face, he gently brushed his thumb over your lips as his eyes lingered on them.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time." He said softly before he met your eyes again "And I'd very much like to do it again." He spoke as he slowly leaned in closer.

You smiled as you met him in another kiss, softer and slower this time, as he linked the fingers of his other hand through yours.

xx End xx

Kind of an abrupt ending, but I didn't know where to go with it where it would end naturally lol I hope you liked it!~

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Raymond Smith Taglist: @will-grammer, @venusthepirate

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

A Cuppa

Winter Prompts Masterlist | Winter Prompts List

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Reader

Prompts: Shiver/ Warm /Old Enemies

“Come inside.” 

“No thank you.” 

Raymond shot you an unimpressed gaze over the top of his glasses.

“The sooner you do, the sooner we can get you a hot cuppa,” He added. 

“I’d prefer scotch.” 

“We can do that.” 

“I’m not coming in. What makes you think I need something hot?” 

“You’re shivering.”

You pointedly tightened your coat around yourself, averting your gaze. It was another moment before Raymond stepped out into the cold with you, stopping in front of you and catching your eye. 

“Come in,” He urged softly, “Have a drink. We don’t even have to talk.” 

You pursed your lips before you gave a reluctant nod. Raymond led the way to the door, holding it open for you. You stepped into Lore of the Land and puffed your cheeks out as warmth washed over you. 

“One tea and one scotch, please, Bobby,” Raymond requested, stepping up to the bar. You lingered a couple of steps behind, unsure of what to do with yourself. Your previous visits to the bar had always been nerve-wracking, but since your boss called a truce with Mickey Pearson, you and Raymond were still working on edging your way out of a contentious limbo. You didn’t know how to act around him now that you were on the same side. 

Raymond took up the drinks and turned, nodding you toward a table. You went obligingly, sitting and muttering your thanks. You lifted the scotch to your lips and took a sip. You sighed contentedly, feeling some of your chill and tension melt. 

“Good?” Raymond asked. You nodded a little as you flexed your bare, frigid fingers. You could feel Raymond watching you closely, but you didn't dare meet his eye. “Give me your hands.” 

Your brow furrowed at the order, but you held your hands out obligingly. Your stomach twisted as he took hold of them, pressing them around his mug of tea. You sucked in a soft, surprised breath at the warmth of his hands around yours, against the heat of the mug. 

“Better?” He plied. You gave another slow, almost grudging nod. It pained you to say this, but—

“Thank you.” 

It was quiet, and a little nervous as it left you. Raymond just let out a reassuring little hum—and then chased it with a chastisement of: 

“You need gloves.” 

Tag list: @amneris21 ; @elen-aranel ; @brandyllyn ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ;

[navybrat817]

Navy, may you pls share more about my husbands (LOL🤣🤣🤣)your new series Raymond and Will? Anything more you’re willing to share? What reallllllly makes them tick/what’s the key thing to know about them?

Hi, lovely! That depends on which WIP I have in the works.

For something a kind of softer (with eventual smut), there's a bit of grumpy!Will who falls for his new sunshine reader. who moves in next door. His second chance at love since he was engaged before and it didn't work out. It's a second chance for you, too, since you have your own heartache. Very protective of you. His brother, Benny, teases that he'll go for you if Will doesn't.

For something much darker, Will shares you with Bucky in There's Something in the Water AU. This is not a sweet, sunshine sort of AU. They are not good men. You are kept there by force as they nurse you back to health after a car "accident". And they expect you to adjust to your new life.

For something a kind of softer (with eventual smut), Raymond has his sweet photographer in our Silly Boys with Silly Toys AU. In the present, you two are engaged. Dominant, protective, loving. And I love how he "asked" you to move in with him.

Bordering on soft!dark, I have a WIP that takes some elements from a canon event from the film. Something that "forces" you to move into his place. He expects you to follow his rules.

*****

Excited to share when I can. Love and thanks! ❤️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of Particular Tastes 2

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including noncon, violence, drug use, 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 cushy job is complicated by a very peculiar character.

Characters: Raymond Smith (The Gentlemen)

Note: So this is a bit of an experiment. I know this will probably be less read but figured I’d test the waters. If y’all want little lies tomorrow, I’ll post that then.

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 Pinocchio loves lying. Take care. 💖

You cross your arms as the ambulance pulls away, sirens off as the man inside can't be saved. The office is locked up and you don’t expect to be coming back. What the fuck do you do now? Your boss is dead and that means as much for your job.

A brief flash of remorse sinks into your chest. Gerald is dead and you're thinking about your paycheck. You shake your head at your own selfish thoughts and check your phone for the time. Well, no hurry getting home, you don't have work tomorrow. Or maybe you should call the clients and let them know…

You didn't know. How could you? You are so unprepared for all this and it makes you feel even more underqualified, naive, and stupid than ever.

You turn down the pavement and tuck your phone into your pocket. Moisture hangs in the air as rain threatens again, the streets still slick with the earlier downpour. Hopefully the bus comes before--

The toot of a car horn makes you wince and you stop short, your wedge scuffing on the brickwork. A sleek black car pulls close to the curb with a silver emblem over its shiny grill. A nice vehicle for any part of town. The window rolls down and a man bends his arm over it. Maybe you should've been in a hurry.

He says your name and your eyes widen as your lips part in confusion. You look around and quickly swerve to continue down the street, ankles nearly bending in your heels. The car rolls slowly along with your frantic gait.

"Aye, it's you, yeah? We're not gonna hurt you, girl," he huffs and grunts at the driver to stop. 

The door opens and you break into a run, barely as your wedges don't allow for a full sprint. He doesn't break a sweat as his long legs keep stride a few steps behind you.

"A friend sent me," he says, "mutual."

"I don't have any friends," you call back breathlessly, "not since college."

"Oi," he lunges and catches the strap of your purse. He pulls you back as you try not to topple. You face him and let go of the bag.

"Look, you want it, it's yours," you wave at the leather purse, "I don't got much anyway."

"I'm not robbin' ya, miss," he holds out your bag, "and if I was here to hurt ya, you'd be in the gutter already. Please, get in the car."

"Why would I do that?" You peek through the windshield to the other man, just as bald and big.

"Like I said, we share a friend," he insists, "and I've leave if necessary to help you into the car. Now you seem like a nice lady, I don't want to do that and our friend did want to leave that as a last resort, yeah?"

You squint at him. The day can't possibly get stranger and yet here you are. 

"Who's your friend?" You ask as you take your purse back cautiously. 

"I'm not permitted to say," he replies.

"And I'm supposed to trust that?"

The other car door opens and the other man cranes his head over the roof, "tell the miss she can ride in the backseat or the boot, Bunny."

Bunny sighs and throws up his hands as you take a startled step back, "shut up, Jim, I'm handling it." He pushes the tip of his tongue to his top lip as he looks at you again, "listen, my friend isn't patient, yeah? He's dying to light up and I'd rather get this over with, wouldn't you? Let's look at it this way, you got your phone, you hold onto that. You think it's goin' sideways, you hit 999."

You rub your cheek and glance between him and the car. You frown. You know if you refuse, they won't just go away. Maybe it's something to do with Gerald. He always had shady people coming and going.

"I… guess I'll take the backseat over the boot," you lift your bag onto your shoulder.

"Good, great," he says as he steps aside and directs you past him with an extended arm, "don't mind Jim, eh, he's like that with everyone."

🎀

You've been to a few estates in your lifetime. There were the country houses you toured in your undergrad, on which you were escorted out of after a near fatal collision with a centuries old vases. 

Then there was Ella's family home visited the summer after graduation. You recall how voices carried along the high ceilings and her drunken parents argued for most of the night. Such places are either uninhabited or housed those too miserable to enjoy their extravagance. 

The house before you is impressive and the lawns sprawling. Finely trimmed hedges open to flat grasses and managed gardens of exotic flowers. Glass orbs light the shadows on high poles as the car passes through the gates. You wonder if perhaps this is a case of mistaken identity.

"Are you sure you're looking for me? I'm just a secretary you know, I was born in--"

"It's you," the man behind the wheel grumbles, "first she don't like my music, now she's on about our job--"

"Jim," Bunny warns with a snicker, "she's harmless. No doubt confused, let it go."

"She insulted Iggy," Jim decries.

"I never did," you argue, "I simply requested the Spice Girls. They're marathoning their greatest hits on--"

"Miss," Bunny interjects, "may I suggest you not reopen poorly healed wounds? Jim's a bit of an emotional guy."

"Am not," Jim turns and stops just a few feet from the front steps and shifts into park, "my car, my music."

"Yeah, yeah," Bunny opens his door and climbs out with a grunt. He snaps it shut and pulls yours open, "miss."

You quickly unbuckle your belt and scoop up your purse, "Jim, I'll tell you what," you say  "I'll listen to more Iggy if you try some Spice in your life."

"Get out," he growls and you quickly oblige.

"You shouldn't taunt him," Bunny warns as he closes the car door and points you up the steps, "he's an old dog, set in his ways with a nasty bite."

"I'm sorry," you nibble your lip, "I get chatty when I'm nervous."

"Don't be," he gets to the front door and reaches for the long handle, pressing down the latch and swinging it open, "you're here on peaceful terms, miss. You see me and my accomplice, we wanted to do something, it'd been done. Now, you wanna take your shoes off and go across the foyer to the left. Just beside the stairs, there's a hallway, follow that to the second door and there's the kitchen. You'll find our friend there… should do, at least."

"Okay," you say quietly, your fear muffling your racing thoughts as your adrenaline spikes.

He pulls closed the door as you enter and you lift each foot to remove your wedges and place them neatly on the mat. You take a moment to peer around at the fine pieces that ornament the large space and the curled ends of the banisters at the foot of the tremendous polished stairs. You see yourself in the tall mirror against the wall, the stain on your skirt peeking out from beneath your jacket. 

You recall Bunny's instructions and slowly take the path to the left of the staircase. You hear some activity ahead and follow the noise. You stop on the second doorway as the gas stove clicks and the flame catches with a whoosh. You stare at the broad shoulders as thick fingers wave out the flame of the match.

"Thank you for taking your shoes off," Raymond says as he turns.

You sputter and scoff. You look over your shoulder down the hall then laugh, slightly addled after the day you've had.

"It's you," you say, "you live here? You brought me here? Wh-- why? I--" You lift a hand and touch your forehead with the other, "just give me a minute, please."

You close your eyes as dizziness swirls in your head. Bunny was right when he said you're confused but he has no idea how much worse it's getting. You drop your hands and open your eyes. Raymond watches you calmly as he waits.

"Alright," you near the long wooden island, "Mr. Smith, can I please know why two brutes just kidnapped me outside my work?"

"Kidnap?" His lips slant as he considers you, "they weren't… rough with you, were they?"

"Not physically," you assure, "but I am thoroughly put off by all of this. I'm supposed to be eating microwave masala and watching Coronation Street about now."

"Right," he says as his lips straighten, "tea or coffee?"

You look over at the kettle and blink. You exhale and put your purse on the island.

"You have green tea, I think I need something for nerves," you say.

"Sure," he turns and opens a cupboard, “and again, call me Raymond.”

He takes down two mugs and then slides open a drawer. He works meticulously and place two steepers over the rims as he measures out leaves from labelled sachets. You watch quietly and pinch yourself. Definitely not a dream.

"Quite a day," he says, "pity about Gerald."

"Yeah, I--" you sniff as you stop yourself, "how did you know?"

"Word travels fast," he says, "people talk when there's sirens around."

"Oh…" you tap your heel anxiously, "I don't wanna be rude and maybe I'm a bit slow but why am I here exactly?"

"Do you want to leave?" He asks.

"Well… I, erm… don't know because I've no idea why I'm here so weighing the options isn't entirely… clear," you feel dumb just talking.

"Hm," he turns as the kettle begins to shake and he turns the dial before it can whistle. He pours the water over the leaves carefully and replaces the kettle on the stove. "You've been so generous I thought I'd repay your kindness and make you a tea." He runs his finger up the porcelain of one cup and looks at you above his glasses, "I find tea does make conversation easier."

"Mhmm," you furrow your brow.

"Here, let me take your jacket," he rounds the counter towards you, "you can't drink your tea dressed to leave."

"Uh, okay," you got to shove down your jacket but he's already pulling it down your shoulders.

He takes it and strides out the door, returning empty-handed. He checks his watch and strains the leaves. He no longer wears his stiff suit jacket but a soft collared sweater. He slides your cup over to you and you thank him. You stare into the pale brew, a hint of citrus rising with the steam.

"I am not one to beat around the bush so I will state the obvious," he begins, "you are unemployed."

You lift your gaze to him and nod. The dread finally floods into your stomach.

"Seems so," you utter.

"Ah, so I have a prospect for you to consider," he leans on the island and stares across at you, "I must say the timing is convenient for both of us."

You nod and bring your cup up to blow over the brim. You sip tenuously and the heat courses through you like a river, coating your chest and stomach warmly.

"Many have remarked me to be a particular sort of man. I will admit I have my preferences. I like order."

You set down the mug and try to decipher his words before he says them. You still can't quite process where you are or that it's him standing across from you. He's barely more than a stranger and you're in his home.

"It is not boasting but this house is rather large and my schedule unfortunately does not allow me to oversee it as closely as I should. I have my staff and contractors but I cannot always be here to supervise their work," he continues, "so I've evaluated my needs and my expenses and determined that I require a house manager."

You clamp your lips and nod along as if you understand. He pauses and his cheek twitches.

"You," he says, "you could fill that position. I believe that arrangement is beneficial to both of us."

"Me?" You raise your brows, "shouldn't you look at my CV or… you know, I don't really have that sort of experience--"

"I wouldn't offer it if I didn't think you capable. CVs are trash anyhow, bunch of lies written to standard," he shakes his head.

"Oh, er, and what exactly would a house manager do?" You wonder.

"As stated, you will oversee the comings and goings of my staff and contractors, and seek out any additional services required for upkeep," he explains, "of course, I would prepare a detailed roster of duties for your guidance, as I said, I can be quite compulsively particular."

"Mhmm, alright," you say, "I don't know. It doesn't really sound like my sorta thing."

"Tell me, how much did Gerald pay you?" He asks bluntly.

"Well, that's kind of a personal question," you counter.

"But relevant," he insists. 

“Fifteen pound an hour,” you answer with a sheepish smile.

He lowers his pale blue eyes and adjusts the slender frame of his glasses.

“I’ll do forty, and since you’ll be on call, that’s twenty-four seven pay,” he lifts his eyes again, “how does that sound?”

“On call?” you chuckle.

“Of course, that means you would have to relocate to an on-site residence but as you might guess, that isn’t an imposition,” he says and takes a gulp of his tea without hesitation.

“Forgive me, this is a bit sudden,” you argue, “am I supposed to decide right now? To be quite honest, I found a corpse today and then I was accosted on my way to the bus and now… oh, I feel sick,” you ramble and bite down on your tongue to curtail yourself.

“Probably hungry, long day,” he remarks coolly, “I have some filet mignon, fresh cut from the butcher. I think the rain will hold off for a while–”

“Are you offering me dinner right now?” you narrow your eyes.

“It’ll give you time to think, and I always say we make our best decisions on a full stomach,” he goes to the fridge and opens the door, “if you are not a fan of red meat, I have some rainbow trout–”

“I’m not picky,” you say, “may I use your bathroom?”

“Just down the way you came, round the other side of the staircase,” he says as he pulls out a paper bundle, “I’ll be outside, warming the grill,” he says, “right through there,” he points to another doorway, “glass doors. I’ll leave them open.”

“Thanks,” you tiptoe away and hide your grimace as you flit into the hallway.

You’re really not sure what’s going on. It’s happening so quickly. You really were never very great at keeping up and your observational skills were shit. You found your way to the half-bath just where he stated and let yourself in. You sigh and lean against the door.

Fuck, you left your purse on the counter. Looks like a Google search will have to wait.

🎀

You hate yourself for how right he is. You’re starving and the steak hardly touches your plate before it’s gone. You chew on the grilled asparagus as he patiently slices at his filet. 

You can’t help your wandering eyes as you admire the greenery shadowed in moonlight and the soft yellow glow a more artificial gleam. It’s much nicer than your closeted flat.

“More wine?” he offers as he draws your attention back, “was it good?”

“I won’t say much for my standards but yes,” you answer, “and no to the wine. I’ve been horribly piggish.”

“I’ve much to spare,” he assures you and fills his glass instead, “so, my offer?”

“Do I have to decide tonight? I really don’t feel in the mind for it,” you reply, “truly, I’ve been known for impulsive decisions but I’m trying to break that habit–”

“You should try cold water. If the stain doesn’t come out, liquid detergent, maybe some baking soda,” he looks down at your skirt and you mindlessly touch the ruffle, “I’m not a stranger to tea stains.”

“Thanks,” you shift awkwardly and notice how his eyes linger on your fingers. You retract them and fold your hands in your lap. The wine’s starting to seep in.

“I don’t repeat myself and this offer expires at midnight,” he girds, “and I suspect you won’t receive better. It’s a big city but less than promising… and it seems you’re down a reference.”

You swallow and stare at your plate. His tone is edgy. To that point, he’s been neutral but you notice how he sharpens, how he bears down when he needs. And you know there’s something he’s not saying but something he’ll do. Nor can you deny that he’s right or that the offer is tempting.

“Midnight,” you repeat.

“That gives you…” he raises his wrist, his sweater since disposed and his sleeves rolled to his elbows, “a good two hours and thirty-seven minutes.”

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 01/21/2024

Hey Nerdie! How has your week been?

I’ve been good. It snowed, twice. Snow is for Hallmark movies. I hate cleaning my car off and digging out. Very much hate driving in it, felt like a stunt driver. 🤣

Wow…That’s a lot. Um, thanks for sharing?

I know, you didn’t ask all that. I overshare. It’s my jam. In addition to odd humor, innuendos and food jokes. Many food jokes. 😎

That is very on brand for you. The pickle is gone. We’re thankful. 🥹 What did you read this week?

I've been trying to work through different lists I have but I get them confused - most of the time. 😵‍💫 A quick list:

Locked out of Heaven by @fhatbhabie (Dieter Bravo)

A Baker's Dozen - Nine by @avastrasposts (Pero Tovar)

His Little Hawk by @iamskyereads (Pero Tovar)

the art of shaving by @lunaselena (Marc Spector)

isn't it by @undercoverpena (Din Djarin)

Lunch @javierpena-inatacvest (Javier Pena)

PMAMC 2024 Challenge Masterlist (haven't finished it yet - has a multitude of Pedro characters) organized by @wannab-urs

A Work of Art by @boliv-jenta (Lucien Flores)

Expensive by @laurfilijames (Raymond from 'The Gentlemen")

I read a lot but I feel like I'm missing some. 🤨

What did you put out this week?

...You heard that right?

We did, we regretted it as soon as we said it. Just answer the question.

I have no idea if I post a lot or a little. Maybe too much? I have no clue. Some of what I did was organization and grouping.

Drops of Sugar Masterlist (Joel Miller)

Weddings 101 with Dieter Masterlist (Dieter Bravo)

The Mercenary and his Witch (Pero Tovar - part of PMAMC 2024)

Watch me and Touch it Quierda (Santiago Garcia)

Filthy Hooligans (Lucian Flores)

Don't know what you mean (Tim Rockford)

Geez Nerdie, do you do anything besides work and fanfiction?

It's a way of life. Not for the weak. I also don't have a lot going on so I need to keep occupied somehow. 🤓

I also am trying out some temporary tattoos to see if like the placement. I would like to get a tattoo this year. 🥳

Anything else Nerdie? You always have lots of things planned.

Nothing for now. I have to finish some other WIPs I've been working on. Slowly but there has been progress.

Until next time!

Stay warm, stay safe, hydrate!

Love Nerdie 💕

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Of Particular Tastes Masterlist

Summary: Your cushy job is complicated by a very peculiar character. (Raymond Smith)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

[free-for-all-fics]

Charlie Hunnam Character Prompts! This list includes: Alan McMichael, King Arthur, Raymond Smith, and Will “Ironhead” Miller. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of the ideas presented here. I’d love to read it! 💜

1. After the events of Crimson Peak, Edith and Alan eventually marry. Edith gives birth to a daughter (whether the baby is Alan’s, or Thomas’ from his and Edith’s night in the depot is up to you.) Their daughter inherits the ability to see ghosts just like her mother and grandmother before her.

2. You’re Thomas and Lucille’s daughter but you don’t know. You’ve been raised to believe you’re their sister. Due to the nature of your birth and years spent growing up in the darkness of Allerdale Hall, your eyes have a strong sensitivity to light. You’re in your 20s when Thomas takes you to an optician in New York while he’s courting Edith. Maybe an American doctor will have something to help you that the English doctors back home don’t. You meet Alan, who gives you an eye exam. He helps you when your eyes are giving you trouble by prescribing you a special type of eyeglasses and sunglasses so you can go outside for longer periods of time. He also prescribes you eyedrops/medications and recommends using a parasol for shade while you’re out on walks. Over time, his prescription notes become love notes.

3. You’re the youngest Sharpe and are much more petite than the average woman, standing only at about 4’9. Thomas assures you it’s not your fault, it’s just how you were born. You also attribute your small stature to the lack of necessary sunshine and fresh air from your years growing up confined to the shadows of Allerdale Hall. Your brother rarely let you leave the grounds while you were a child, afraid you’d get sick and your immune system would be too weak to fight off any infection. You’d never gone past the front yard before. Now an adult, you fall in love with Alan McMichael while Thomas is courting Edith. He dances with you at balls, sends you secret love letters, etc. When Thomas discovers these letters, he takes them and locks you in your bedroom. Your attempts to stop him or slow him down do nothing to deter him. Despite your protests and pleas to be let out and for him to give Alan’s letters back, he instead hides them where Lucille wouldn’t find them. You don’t realize he’s locked you in to protect you from her. When Alan comes to Allerdale Hall to rescue Edith, he wants to take you away too and demands to know where you are. During the confrontation, you escape. It’s because of Alan that you discover your true lineage: Your siblings are actually your parents and you’re the product of incest. You’re helpless and horrified when Lucille stabs Alan. You try to run to him, but she holds you back while Thomas stabs him too.

You believe him to be dead until Lucille takes Edith away to sign the papers and Thomas urges you to help him get Alan downstairs, quickly. He’s still alive and your tears of mourning turn into tears of relief. There’s no time for explanations, but Thomas begs your forgiveness and tells you he loves you. While he’s not proud of the act he and Lucille did, he wants you to know you were never a mistake. He gives you a goodbye kiss on the forehead before he rushes to help Edith. While you keep him stable, Alan reveals that, before he was stabbed, Thomas gave him his blessing to marry you. He whispered it so low so Lucille wouldn’t hear. After leaving Crimson Peak, you later wed. Neither of you care about Mrs. McMichael’s snide remarks or disapproval of you. But when you come to be with child, you’re afraid for their health. You worry that your body is too small to safely carry to term, or that your lineage means any children you have are at risk for birth defects. Alan soothes your fears and assures you that you’re strong and capable. No matter what, he will love his child. If they are born anything but healthy, you and he will find a way to still give them the best life possible. You’ll devote your lives to their happiness.

4. Alan McMichael meets you, a woman who has Heterochromia. As an eye doctor, he wants to study this rare eye condition but over time, he gets to know you and falls in love with you. You help him with his studies on the subject and tell him about your life, from your genetic history all the way to the hardships you’ve faced for being different from everybody else. You tell him how you used to wear sunglasses all the time to hide your eyes out of shame. But you’re not ashamed anymore, and Alan further compliments them. The eyes are generally considered the most beautiful feature of the human body and your eyes are no exception. They’re unique, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

5. Haunting of Hill House crossover AU (the novel, not the show): You’re Hugh Crain’s youngest daughter and the only family member who survived the hauntings of Hill House. While you grew up on the grounds, no corner of your house was safe. Your mother was killed in the drive up before the house’s completion, leaving you and your older sisters to be raised by a governess. Every room had its haunts. Even the outside garden was haunted by ghosts having picnics. Your eldest sister, Sophia, was given a disturbing monograph on morality from your father, signed in his own blood. As you grew older, you started to feel uneasy around your overbearing father and grew concerned about his intentions with Sophia. Though he was physically absent and often away in Europe with his new wife, you still felt the weight of his presence everywhere within the walls, along with the ghosts. It frightened you. You left Hill House when you turned 18 and never came back, though you missed your sisters dearly and kept writing them letters. You settled in New York, where you met and later married Alan McMichael, a handsome eye doctor. When he shows you his interest in ghost sightings through photography, you’re worried for his safety, still traumatized from your past experiences. You have yet to tell him the full story about Hill House.

Your middle sister sometimes visited with her husband, and you were saddened at her and Sophia’s falling out over the inheritance of the house. No matter how much you urged your eldest sister to leave Hill House, you knew she’d never visit. Sophia later died alone and you were devastated at the news of her death. Alan did his best to console you at her funeral. Your mourning was exacerbated when your middle sister died while trying to move some furniture and dishes out of the house, mere months after Sophia’s funeral. The coroner said she slipped and fell down the stairs, but you knew better. When Alan’s friend, Edith, marries Thomas Sharpe and moves into Allerdale Hall, you come with to help her settle in. But you realize immediately that Allerdale Hall is haunted, in eerily similar ways to how Hill House is. She confides in you about her ability to see ghosts and you do what you can to protect her and keep her safe since you couldn’t do the same for your beloved sisters. But you can’t stay in the house forever, so you go to Alan for help. You finally sit him down and confide in him everything about your experiences at Hill House. You urge him that Edith is now in great danger and needs both his help and yours before it’s too late.

6. You’re Eunice’s best friend and fall in love with her brother, Alan, when he meets you while attending medical school. Neither of you make the connection right away. After all, there’s tons of women named Eunice and you and Alan hadn’t seen each other since you were children. Uh oh when he takes you to meet his family and you realize you’re in love with your best friend’s brother.

7. You’re a mermaid-like creature in Camelot but unlike the Syrens, your magic isn’t dark and you don’t serve Vortigern. You stayed in hiding during his tyrannical reign, since you’re similar to a Ceasg and knew he’d abuse your magic. After Vortigern’s death and the destruction of the tower, the Syrens ventured back out to the deeper waters of the vast sea. You’re captured by Arthur’s men, mistaken for a Syren after saving the new King’s life by kissing him and granting him the ability to breathe underwater for a time. His knights mistook your actions and thought you were trying to eat their friend. You’re kept in the King’s bedchamber, in a large glass container full of water that has enough room to swim around in, but acts as your cage. Arthur interrogates you, asking you all sorts of questions about yourself, where you come from, your connection to the Syrens that served his uncle, etc. But over time, his questions become softer and he talks to you with a spirit similar to that of a young boy who just discovered fairytales are real. He and you fall in love. You use your magic to grant Arthur’s wishes, even if he unknowingly makes them. It takes him a while to realize what’s happening and that his wishes coming true is your doing.

One night, the door above your tank is left unlocked after you’re fed. You pull yourself out and crawl towards Arthur while he sleeps in his bed of furs. You’re so curious about the anatomy of humans and always wanted to see one up close. As you crawl on top of him to touch his face and play with his golden hair, Arthur responds as if in a dream and leans up to kiss you. When he jolts awake and realizes what he’s doing, he lets you touch and admire him, but only for a short while before he carries you back to your tank. He doesn’t want you to dry out. But you keep a firm hold on his hand and encourage him to join you, telling him you want to explore his body further. He relents and you make love under the water. Someone later tries to kidnap you and steal you away for their own greed, and your tank shatters. You flail around like a fish out of water before your tail dries and turns to legs. After he rescues you, Arthur gives you back your freedom. But instead you choose to stay and serve him as your King. Unlike Syrens, You don’t demand blood or human sacrifices. You simply ask for Arthur’s heart, his love, and he gives it to you. He makes you his Queen, as unconventional as his choice in a bride may be. There’s no other he wants for his wife.

8. Pirates of the Caribbean-esque AU: You’re a mermaid/siren but you’re a good natured one that isn’t bloodthirsty or man-eating like your sisters. Arthur captures you and holds you prisoner after he thinks you tried to kill him. He keeps you in a large tank in his private bedchamber because he needs a mermaid’s/siren’s magic to help him in a quest for something. But then you and he start bonding and developing romantic feelings for each other, especially when he realizes you actually saved his life that day you met and weren’t trying to kill him at all. Despite being kept in a tank full of seawater, you become very sick because you’ve been away from the actual sea for too long. Your skin and tail become ashy, your hair loses its luster, the sparkle in your eyes dims. Arthur grows so worried and remorseful for his mistreatment of you that he sets you free, returning you to the ocean where you belong. You wave to him as you swim away and he waves back with stray tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t see you for so long that he thinks you’re gone forever. But then you show up again while he’s sailing out at sea, swimming along the side of his ship and you’re mistaken for a large fish. He’s surprised to see you when you climb over the side and hold yourself up on the railing. He’s left speechless when you reveal you’ve brought him the treasure he sought after in the first place. It wasn’t easy to find, that’s why you were gone so long. You never planned on abandoning him. You kiss him and tell him a secret: If a mortal wins the heart of a merfolk, that merfolk is granted the ability to walk on land when their tail is dry. And a mortal fortunate enough to receive the kiss of a merfolk is granted the ability to breathe underwater. You show Arthur he’s earned your love when your beautiful shimmering tail dries and becomes human legs. He quickly finds you some clothes and asks you to stay with him as his bride and be his Queen. You accept, but tell him you’ll have to return to the sea for short periods of time periodically to stay healthy. When the King and Queen are both missing from the palace, it’s safe to say they’re out swimming.

9. You’re Arthur’s Queen and are once again with child after many failed attempts. You’ve been able to get pregnant before, but the trouble has been keeping it. You’ve suffered many miscarriages so early on that sometimes you wouldn’t even bother telling your husband you were with child, too afraid you’d get his hopes up only to lose it. This put an emotional and mental toll on both you and Arthur. This is the farthest you’ve carried in any pregnancy, so Arthur is especially protective and doting, making sure you have the best of healers. Naturally, everyone in the kingdom hopes the firstborn will be a boy to carry his father’s legacy. Arthur assures you he just wants a healthy wife and child. The birth itself is difficult and you nearly die trying to bring your baby into the world. There’s so much blood. Arthur is terrified but refuses to leave your side. This is his castle, his wife, and his child. So he’s going to hold your hand and caress your hair through it all, even if it takes hours. He encourages you and tells you you’re the strongest woman he knows. When the babe is born, it’s a girl. You’re afraid you’ve disappointed the kingdom and your husband, but Arthur is overjoyed at the arrival of his little princess. She is his heir and he loves both her and you unconditionally. A huge celebration is in order. But first, you must rest and recover.

10. Ever after AU: Your stepmother works you like a servant for years following your father’s death, while plotting and scheming to get her own spoiled and selfish daughter on the throne. You pretend to be a courtier to save a man’s life, inadvertently catching the eye of King Arthur. He keeps pursuing you despite all your attempts to evade him, so you give him your deceased mother’s name when he pushes for yours. You didn’t think you’d see him again, but fate has you crossing paths and meeting in secret. A romance eventually blossoms. You show him you’re a country girl at heart with a strong spirit, not afraid to get dirty, climb trees, use a blade, etc. You want more than anything to tell Arthur the truth of who you are, but keep losing your courage at the last moment. He’s just so wonderful and you love him so much, you don’t want to hurt him with your deception. A masque ball is being held for the King to choose a bride so Camelot may finally have a Queen. Your stepmother lashes you for your insolence towards your stepsister after she tries to take your mother’s dress. She locks you in the cellar but you escape.

Your stepmother tries to sabotage you by assaulting you and exposing you as a fraud and devious little pretender in front of the entire royal court, but her scheme backfires terribly when Arthur reveals he doesn’t care about your status as a servant. He holds your hand as he tells your stepmother that she seems to have forgotten herself and must be unaware of his own background. He grew up in a brothel under the care of prostitutes. He loved those women like family and he rose up out of gutter in the village streets of Londinium through years of hard work and blood, sweat, and tears. He has your stepmother and terrible stepsister taken away to be dealt with later and announces you as his intended bride. That is, if you’ll have him. The decision is yours. Meanwhile, your other stepsister, who is much more gentle and kind hearted, has been in a blooming romance of her own: She’s falling in love with one of Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table. Upon your marriage and coronation, your stepsister is appointed your lady-in-waiting and becomes part of the royal court. On your wedding night, Arthur discovers the lashing marks on your back and is horrified. He’s so livid he would’ve sentenced your stepmother to death for daring to lay such a violent hand upon you, but you talk him down. He strips her of her title in front of the royal court and, at your behest, sentences her and your horrible stepsister to lifelong servitude. Neither you nor your other stepsister have spared a thought for your cruel stepmother or odious stepsister, too busy in your happy new lives.

11. You’re thrown overboard when the ship you’re traveling on gets stuck in a terrible and merciless thunderstorm. As you try to keep yourself above water, you hear voices shouting what you think is your name. Lightning cracks and starts a fire on the ship, but that’s all you remember as you hit your head and black out. You awaken on the shoreline, found by men who later reveal themselves as Knights of the Round Table. They take you to their King, Arthur. When you reveal you don’t remember anything but a shortened version of your name, Arthur takes it upon himself to look after you while you recover from your ordeal. At least until your memory returns or your family can be found. He has his knights work on locating your family while he shows you his castle, takes you on tours of Camelot, etc. Over time, your friendship turns into a romance. Little do either you or Arthur know, you’re actually a Viking Princess who was on voyage to Camelot to marry Arthur. The very same Viking Princess who is believed to be dead. Your arranged marriage was meant to strengthen an alliance between Norway and England in exchange for protection, resources, trade routes, weapons, etc. But your supposed death has created a new array of problems for Arthur as he’s tried to draft up a new agreement with your mourning mother and/or father, not realizing he has their amnesiac daughter right under his roof. What happens when the truth is revealed?

12. Arthur stumbles across a baby girl in a basket drifting in the water. This child was watched over and protected by the Lady of the Lake, who instructs Arthur to take you in and raise you as his daughter. He does so, and you grow up a Princess of Camelot. But as you grow, you show signs of possessing magic similar to that of mermaids, water nymphs, or fairies. You have unique abilities over controlling water and can even influence people when you sing. You may have the ability to breathe underwater or swim at incredible speeds. Your father still loves you and does what he can to help you control your powers, but he may need the help of the Mage to further teach you, since he’s just a human man who has no knowledge of your birth or who your natural parents were. The Lady of the Lake didn’t tell him much when she gave you to him.

13. You’re either Roz’s sister and Mickey’s sister-in-law, or you’re Mickey’s sister and Roz’s sister-in-law. The choice is up to you. Either way, you and Ray find yourselves in a high risk, high reward romance as you try to hide your affair from Roz and Mickey. Ray started off as your personal bodyguard and you’re worried they wouldn’t understand or would be against mixing love and business for whatever reason. You’d rather not see Ray get fired or killed, so you keep it secret. Ray also enjoys living too much to die just yet, thank you. But maybe Roz and Mickey wouldn’t be angry that you’ve kept secrets from them, just disappointed that you’d think so little of them. You’re Mickey and Roz’s sister (in-law) and they love you. Ray has been like family for years too, and there’s no better man for you than him. But maybe at the time you were just too scared and foolish to realize that they’d always have your back and support you no matter what.

14. You’re Ray’s wife. You used to be a journalist, but your articles caught the interest of an espionage agency. They gave you an interview under the guise of a publishing company and, during it, you noticed the organization's hidden cameras and microphones. You discovered the interview’s true purpose and passed the test. Your set of skills got you hired on the spot, and you built a career as one of the top spies in the organization. You’ve obtained valuable intel while infiltrating galas, fundraisers, house parties, board meetings, etc. But you promised Ray not to go on any more missions once you became pregnant. So you retire, or work from the safety of your own office at home instead of actively being out on the field. Despite both you and Ray laying low and taking as many precautions as possible to keep yourselves safe, somehow enemies of your agency or Mickey Pearson had discovered your location and/or connection to Ray. They sabotage your vehicle and set you up to get into a serious car accident in an attempt to eliminate you. They want to use your death to get to your husband and ultimately yours and/or his boss. Your body is gone from the crash scene, so you’re believed to be missing or dead.

What Ray doesn’t know until later is that Mickey pulled some strings to get you out of there and sent you to a high security hospital without the enemy agents knowing. You were swapped out with a body too damaged for recognition while the enemy agents were distracted by a diversion and they took it, believing it to be you. Ray is sent your coordinates from a burner phone and drives as fast as he can to get to you, scared half to death about you and your child. If either of you are hurt or dead, there will be hell to pay. There were rules to this game, one of the most important being to never go after wives or children. The people who targeted and attacked you will pay. Once Ray and Mickey are through with them, they’ll wish they had never been born. There are fates much worse than death, after all. But first, Ray needs to be the doting husband and take extra good care of you and his unborn child. You need him now more than ever.

15. Ocean’s 8/11/12-esque fic with Ray and you. The plot is up to you, just imagine an action packed heist with him.

16. Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU: You and your husband, Ray, had been attending marriage counseling since it was on the rocks for a while and divorce seemed imminent. You were working for rival agencies at the time and were each ordered to kill the other. But neither of you realized you were each other’s target because the names you’d been given on the slip of paper were aliases you and Ray used. You also wore masks or disguises to infiltrate places. Your rivalry had resulted in multiple massive shootouts or perfectly laid traps that you and Ray survived and got out of. One such shootout nearly destroyed your house and ended with you aiming at each other’s heads, but once the masks/disguises got knocked off and you each realized who you were trying to kill, you stopped and threw down your weapons. Ray told you he loved you and couldn’t kill you. You told him the same. You made love and reconciled, then teamed up instead. You became such a power couple that your employers sent other assassins after you both to finish the job. In present day, you and Ray hold hands and tell your marriage counselor that your careers are going great and your marriage is thriving.

17. You’re Ray’s neighbor and have no inkling about who he really is or what he does. He befriends you and invites you over to his house to cook dinner for you on occasion. You enjoy these cozy evenings where you help him in the kitchen, then relax on the couch and watch a movie by the fire. Or sometimes you just sit and talk, his arm laying over the back of the couch behind you. In the darkness of the room while the movie plays, you’ve shared fleeting kisses and Ray’s arm has moved to your shoulder so he can hold you close. Ray has never experienced this kind of romantic affection before since he’s been so focused on his work, but it feels nice with you. You’ve asked about his job, but he’s told you something mundane that’s just a cover. The less you know, the safer you’ll be. You don’t even know who Mickey Pearson is and Ray wants to keep it that way.

On one of these date nights, he finally takes you to bed. While you’re making love, you tell Ray you love him. In the wee hours of the morning, you crawl out from underneath him without waking him up and throw on one of his shirts. You climb down the stairs leading to the basement, either in search of a midnight snack or wanting to make breakfast since he made dinner the night before. You open the freezer, only to discover the body of Aslan. Ray is awoken by your screams and grabs his gun, afraid you’re hurt or there’s an intruder. You hear his footsteps rushing towards where you are as he calls your name. Oh god, what do you do? What happens now?

18. Something similar to that scene from The Godfather Part 2: You’re Ray’s wife (maybe you’re pregnant) and you’re in bed when you ask him to close the curtains. That’s when he notices the snipers and has you get down as gunfire destroys your bedroom. While you fall out of the bed with a cry, Ray crawls towards you and lays on top of you to shield you with his body. He asks if you’ve been hit, and you’re maybe hit in the shoulder or have a superficial graze. Either way, seeing your blood is enough to make Ray livid. He’s like Mickey in that he doesn’t give a damn about money but he is very emotional about how someone dared to target his home, his family! Attacked in his bedroom where his wife sleeps and where his children may play with their toys. The people who did this are not going unpunished, and Mickey would definitely help his friend and consigliere in getting retribution. Those people will wish they’d never been born once he and Mickey get to them. Death is too quick a mercy.

19. Threesome between Will, you and Catfish. That is all. That’s the prompt.

20. You’re Catfish’s sister who works as a makeup artist in Hollywood. Your brother got his pilot license suspended on a coke bust because he was covering for you. You were in deep shit and needed his help to get out, nearly in hysterics from all your panicking. He loves you so much he’d do anything to protect you. But you know how much Frankie loves to fly, so you feel immensely guilty for what happened. For both yours and your brother’s sake, you go into rehab. You’re finally ready to accept help for your drug addiction. In the past you fell in with Dieter Bravo, an Oscar-winning actor who you used to do makeup on for his movies. You’d talk for hours while he was in your chair, and eventually you started sleeping together and doing drugs with him. For a while it was just about sex and drugs, but then you fell in love with him and he with you. You saved Dieter from an OD and that was when he realized he loved you.

You had a lot of fun and good times with Dieter when you were fuck buddies and dating, but you also had a lot of bad times and rough patches. Eventually you and Dieter made the mutual decision to break things off amicably, but you’re still best friends to this day. You meet Will when he picks you up from rehab while your brother is busy with his new baby, and from there you become friends. The longer you stay clean, the more you and Will get to know each other and fall in love. Catfish and the guys are so proud of you, supportive in every step of your recovery. When you run into Dieter again, he’s excited to tell you about Anika and his own journey towards getting clean. You meet Anika and Dieter meets Will. You’re both so happy for each other and how your lives have turned around for the better.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Christmas Drabble Advent Day 10 - Nice Elf

This is Day 10 of my Christmas Drabble Advent. The full masterlist can be found here > Advent Masterlist

This is a sort of continuation from my fic from last year (not me plugging myself 👀) You can find it here > Naughty Elf

Pairing - Raymond Smith x reader

Summary - You can be nice to Raymond, he just doesn't see it coming

Warnings - Smut, touching

“What have you done this year?”

“Why do I have to have done something?” You asked, climbing onto Raymond’s lap and tapping his nose.

“You’re wearing the outfit again.”

You ignored him pointing out the elf costume. Instead, you played with the collar of his shirt, and started to unbutton it, kissing Raymond’s neck as more of it was revealed.

“I can be a nice elf as well,” you grinned, “I can be very nice, Raymond.”

He moaned as you palmed his crotch through his trousers.

“Mmm, you should do this every year.”

“But that would be boring,” you winked.

[miagomez-1509]

[dreamlandcreations]

I need to read a few fics with good dirty talk, for kinktober research. (idk why I chose that prompt, it's gonna be awful)

Gimme fic recs, please?

[watchtowerindistress]

this is bad. i’m working on a one-shot of a charlie hunnam character and already was supposed to work on the concept of a Teen Wolf story and now i want to work on another charlie character. 

HELP! i need to be stopped.

[nocturnal-milk-dud]

...

He's getting a fic

I probably shouldn't say anything so soon, it feels like I'm jinxing it, but I'm finally writing again

[runa-falls]

recent reads - july '23

if you enjoy these fics make sure to reblog and comment to show your support for the writers!

(*) nsfw (**) dark (~) angst (^) fluff

series - [read a lot more this month bc of travel!]

poe dameron

alabanza*^~ - @brandyllyn [ao3]

“A mis-delivered message causes You and Poe Dameron to become anonymous penpals. But falling for each other via letter while at the same time falling for each other in the real world leads to more than its fair share of complications.”

din djarin

miscommunication*^~ - @ezrasbirdie [ao3]

“When the Mandalorian brings you aboard his ship to care for and protect his son when he’s away, neither of you is what the other expected. You’re both exceptionally bad at reading each other, and you’re afraid of what might happen when your past inevitably catches up to you.”

henry cavill 

crystal ship* (RPF - mafia AU) - @littlefreya

“Henry is the most dangerous crime lord in England, he has everything he wants and women throw themselves at his feet, but what really gets him off is what’s hard to get.”

(i usually never read rpf but littlefreya can make me read ANYTHING)

geralt z rivii

outlander*^~ - @leva [ao3]

“The witcher universe was cruel and unforgiving. You couldn’t imagine lasting a day in it yet here you were. It wasn’t all bad, the food was decent, some folk were nice and you even had your very own mutant bodyguard to boot. Not to mention Jaskier being your personal radio station on the road.”

kylo ren

cruel world*^~- @worm_girl [ao3]

"When Professor Ren moves in next door to your sorority house and you become one of his students, it is impossible for the two of you to ignore the pull you have to each other.”

[not reader-insert:]

reylo (my comfort ship)

all our days*^~ - @voicedimplosives [ao3]

"I can listen no longer in silence." The hologram projection of his strangely handsome face is cobalt blue, flickering, and full of static. "I must speak to you, Rey. You… you pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me that I am not too late.” 

bamon (TVD) (my other comfort ship)

spellbound*^~ - @ladyloec

“An AU of Bonnie and Damon in the Prison World, without Kai, but with a problematic blood shortage that leads to our favourite judgy witch and snarky vampire getting closer than anyone anticipated.”

one-shots (all are reader-inserts!)

moon boys

satisfactory pt.1 + pt.2* (pornstar!jake) - @whatthefish

weightless~ (steven angst) - @m00nsbaby

call me* (feral!steven) - @writefightandflightclub

acts of service^ (marc fluff) - @ivystoryweaver

nice job!*^ (sub!steven fluff) - @romanarose

nathan bateman

indulge me* - @leoluved

poe dameron

wasted on you*^ - @campingwiththecharmings

blue jones

a long night** - @melodygatesauthor

beg** - @“”

santiago garcia

just friends pt.1* and pt.2*~ - @campingwiththecharmings

say my name*~ - @writefightandflightclub

threesome: santi x reader x frankie* - @youvebeenlivingfictional

a midnight picnic - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

miguel o’hara

rendezvous* - @campingwiththecharmings (i’m so sorry i’m tagging u so much lmfao)

stitches and claws* - @astroboots halo* - @missdictatorme

surrender* - @romanarose

llewyn davis

anchor* - @bits-and-babs

ezra prospect

darkness* - @ezrasbirdie

joel miller

what comes after*~ - @softlyspector

frank castle

all up in smoke^ - @saintmurd0ck

raymond smith + tangerine x reader

who you belong to*~ - @youvebeenlivingfictional

[navybrat817]

Finally nailed down an idea I want to write for Raymond Smith.

But... I have to write it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of Particular Tastes 1

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including noncon, violence, drug use, 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 cushy job is complicated by a very peculiar character.

Characters: Raymond Smith (The Gentlemen)

Note: So this is a bit of an experiment. I know this will probably be less read but figured I’d test the waters. If y’all want little lies tomorrow, I’ll post that then.

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 Pinocchio loves lying. Take care. 💖

The woman strolls in as if she owns the place. As far as you know, Gerald does and he's back in his office, talking on the phone, loud enough to hear him through the door. She gives her name, Rozalind Pearson, but you don't see her name on the day's schedule. 

You ask her for a moment and hit the page button on the phone. He doesn't answer so you hit again. You can hear the chime through the wall as he continues to chatter.

"Tell you what, sweetie, I'll sit and wait until Gerry's ready for me," she says in her slanted accent, "and he knows not to keep me waitin'."

"Sorry, ma'am" you try again as she backs up and sits on one of the leather chairs. Still no answer. "Would you like a coffee? Tea?"

She takes a magazine from the table, some realty rag, and glances at you over the top. Her lips are painted a devilish shade of red. She tilts her head and grins.

"Thank you, sweetie," she says, "I'm fine."

"I'll go check in," you get up and slip into your kitten heels as you habitually and thoughtlessly kick them off whenever you sit.

You excuse yourself with a shy duck and walk the short hallways to Gerald's office. His name placard shines golden across the oaken door. You knock but get the same result. You rap louder and he swears from the other side, as good a reception as you've gotten so far.

You turn the handle and peek around the door, "I've a Rozalind Pearson here to see you, sir, she's in the front--"

"Are you mad? Show her in," he hangs up without farewell and puts his cell face down, "hurry up."

He shoos you with his fingers and you retreat out and head back down the hall. Rozalind flips the page of the magazine as she gives no acknowledgement of your presence. 

"Mrs. Pearson, he says you can go right in," you offer, "sorry for the wait."

"Not at all, sweetie," she stands and drops the magazine back on the table, "you're a precious little thing. Make me feel old with all these ma'ams and misses."

"Sorry, erm," you keep yourself from saying ma'am again.

"No need," she scoops up her purse, "much preferable to your predecessor, trust me. Cranky thing, her."

You smile and she gives a tiny trill. She heads for the hallway as you return to your desk. In your few weeks, the strange characters are expected but no less eventful. You don't worry very much, your encounters are passing and the desk job is much preferable to your former gig.

🎀

The mornings are peaceful. You're a good twenty minutes early as your route runs off on a half-hour cycle. You like to take the time to settle in and have a tea before the day starts and you must open the doors and face clients. 

The firm swings between busy and deadly dull. You prefer the downtime though often Gerald's inexplicable absences leak into the busier hours. Much of your tasks are merely assuaging complaints about your boss.

As you approach the front doors and fish around for your keys in your pocket, your purse slips to your elbow and causes you to stumble. You finally get the keys free and they clatter to the pavement. God, you're such a mess.

Before you can swipe up the ring, someone else does. You stand to face the man loitering outside the office, barely discernible from the early morning shadows.

"Early," he remarks and hands them over.

"Just a little," you smile and take the keys, "you waiting to get in?"

You turn to unlock the doors as he hovers by the brick.

"I know I'm a bit premature," he says, "I was in the area."

"I can't say when Gerald will be in, but you can come in and wait if it's no trouble," you jerk the door as it sticks and finally get through, nearly stumbling as the force carries you inside.

"You don't mind?" He intones.

"Just me," you assure him, "besides, rain is coming, I can't leave you out in it."

"Here," he reaches to grab the door and follows you in, "thank you."

You flick on the lights and cross to your desk as you unhook your purse from your arm. You shove your keys inside and tuck it into your bottom drawer. You sense him watching you and glance up at him as you stand straight.

"Tea? Coffee?" You offer, "usually have one when I get in."

"Sure," he turns away and walks along the wall, following the line of pictures of the firm's namesake, "tea's fine."

He wears a grey jacket with thin threads of navy and a pale blue vest over a dark tie. His blond hair is thick but tidy and he brushes his fingertips in the edges of his beard. You go to the machine and spin the rack of pods.

"Herbal or black?" You ask as you take a paper cup from the stack.

"Breakfast tea will do," he says and a leather seat squeaks as he sits.

"Alright," you load the machine and hit brew, "we've milk, some sugar…"

"Black," he insists, "thank you."

"Oh, not at all," you go to your desk and boot up your computer, "don't think I had anyone penciled in this morning."

You shuffle around nervously through your small notebook as you wait for the icon to fade to the sign in.

"I'm afraid I didn't make an appointment," he says, "that a problem?"

"As I said, no one's on the roster but… Gerald might be late."

You type in your password and go back to the long table. You take the hot paper cup and slip a jacket around it as you turn to him. You cross carefully and hand it over. He somehow seems larger sitting down, his broad shoulder wider than the chair.

"Thanks," he takes it and you return to the machine to fix up your own. You hiss as the inside of the tray burns your finger.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Think it's non-lethal," you kid as you close the top and hit the button.

"You're new?" He ventures.

"New-ish," you answer, "about two months since I was sprayin' unhappy shoppers with overpriced perfume."

"You like it here?" He blows the steam away from his tea.

"Well, I get my choice of tea, the occasional coffee when I'm not too spastic," you tap your fingers on the table as the spout spits out boiling tea. "I think I'm still getting a handle on it, sorry."

"Sorry?" He echoes, a hint of amusement in his voice, "nah, don't mind, Gerald isn't exactly the cheerful type. Neither was the one before you."

"Well… thank you," you take a small plastic pot of skim milk and your tea and put it on your desk and wheel the chair forward to sit  "you know, I didn't get your name."

"Raymond," he answers, "Raymond Smith. I didn't get yours either."

"Ah," you point to your name plaque and say it aloud, "people don't usually ask."

He repeats it and gives a small nod, "I like it. Lot more original than mine."

"Suppose," you glance at him, "you sure you wanna wait? Gerald's first meeting isn't until noon."

"I'll have my tea at least," he replies as his blue eyes twinkle, "don't mind me."

🎀

You try to forget the man sitting silently, disarmingly patient as you go about sorting through Gerald's emails and sending follow up files. You can't truly ignore him, he's not the sort you can. He doesn't say much until you offer him another tea. He declines politely as you make yourself a cup.

It's after ten as your boss finally shows his face. You greet him and Raymond stands expectantly. 

"Would you like a coffee, Mr. Norris?" You ask.

"I'll take a venti American from the cafe down the block, none of your in-house toilet wat--" he hesitates as he notices the other man and clears his throat, "Raymond." He offers his hand, it isn't taken, "what're you doing here?"

"Rosalind said you were expecting me," Raymond answers bluntly.

You cling to the name. You remember the dark-haired woman and her cherry red lips.

"Well, to be frank, I was expecting her but you're just as welcome," Gerald's unusual pandering puts you off, "please, let's talk. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting." He stops and looks at you, "why didn't you call me?"

"Don't blame her for your tardiness," Raymond warns, "I waited. I could've called you myself."

"Of course, of course," Gerald looks back to his visitor, his fingers twiddle at his side, "anyhow you want a coffee? Tea?"

"No thank you, your… assistant has been hospitable. She needn't run all the way down the street for overpriced espresso  yeah? You had more than enough time to do so on your way here," Raymond chides.

"So right," Gerald ushers him towards the hallway, "we should get to business, hm? Right this way."

Raymond peers over his shoulder before he relents. He doesn't seem one to smile but there's a glimmer in his eyes as they meet yours. You sit down and your lips curve gratefully as you mouth a thanks. He barely acknowledges it as he disappears ahead of Gerald past the wall.

You focus on the screen but your tasks are mostly done, a distraction during the time the man sat and waited. To keep you busy, to keep you distracted from the heat of his presence. 

You wonder why he makes Gerald so nervous, just as that woman did. Yet, you know better than to delve too deeply into the business being dealt behind closed doors. You aren't paid enough for that.

🎀

You fall into the nonroutine routine of the firm. You putter with menial habits as you cater to the man in his leather throne and his equally eclectic clients. Still, it's preferable to the scent counter and your managerial-coerced assault of customers with designer sprays.

Days stretch to weeks and another month to mark on the calendar. The repetitive nature of your days slogs by despite the unique characters that fill your lobby. The cycle of the clock lends to your aimlessness, the same thing every day and to what ends? It feels like nothing ever changes.

That afternoon you nibble on a biscuit as you enjoy your post-lunch tea. The afternoon block is bare but Gerald's been in his office since his last meeting. You hear him guffawing as his speaker phone buzzes with the voice of another.

You wash down the sandy and disappointing brown sugar biscuit with a mouthful of oolong. The front door swings in and you swallow painfully. You recognise the man but it takes a moment for you to summon his name.

"Mr. Smith," you greet as you wipe your mouth with a tissue.

"Raymond," he corrects as he nears your desk, "hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all, just a cheeky snack," you assure him and toss the tissue, "Gerald's in. I think he's just on a call."

"No hurry," he says as he runs thick fingers down the lapel of his coat, "might I trouble you for a tea?"

"Oh, I didn't even offer, did I?" 

You stand and hit your desk carelessly with your hip, your cup spilling before you can catch it. You save most of it but a splotch leaks down your tweed skirt. You squeak and grab a handful of tissue from the box to blot at it. You love that skirt, it has the little flounce around the knees and goes with your lilac stockings.

"If it's too much trouble…" he says.

"Not at all, I'm trouble," you assure him with a nervous giggle as you quit your attempts to salvage the burberry, "English?"

"Whatever you're having," he answers and you hear him sit.

You toss the brownish tissues in the bin and go to the table and pluck a pod of oolong from the rack. You go about your routine and close the top, setting the machine to brew. You turn back and face Raymond, he sits with his knees wide, an arm across the next chair as he watches you with an unreadable expression.

"I've some biscuits," you offer, "to be fair, they aren't very good."

"No thank you," he says lightly as he sways one leg, "cozy little job. I only wish I could sit in and drink tea all day."

"I won't claim it's hard labour, sir," you teeter in your wedges.

His eyes narrow as he ponders. He nods and scratches his blond beard. The machine halts with its usual snort and you go to fetch his tea. You take it to him and he thanks you, fingertips meeting as he accepts the hot cup.

"Ah, but working for Gerald, that evens the tables, huh? Not an easy one," he remarks.

"Does anyone have a boss they like?" You shrug.

"Fair," he stands, "think I'll take my tea in, might make this more palatable," you watch him trace the rolled rim with his finger, "cheers."

"No problem," you smile again and watch him go. 

A loud knock sounds at the office door as he makes his presence known. You hear Gerald's overzealous welcome as he meets his visitor but his voice wobbles just a little. The door shuts out the response and you look down at your stained skirt. Not the first piece you'll mourn for your own lack of grace. 

🎀

Raymond emerges not long after but hardly notices you as he leaves. It's not unusual. In that job, you don't matter, people never come to chat with the secretary. Aside from your professional obligations, you're not exactly the type that draws the eye.

You quickly forget as you're drawn back into your game of minesweeper, only a few bombs away from the win. You long for another tea but your bladder will have you up and down if you persist in your thirst. So you lean on one elbow and let the monitor burn into your retinas.

When you lose, you close out of the game and yawn. This place was soullessly stagnant. As you ponder a quick nap, the door opens again and Wendy, the tall woman with her half moon glasses and wiry hair barely greets you as she bluntly states the time of her appointment. 

You force a smile and pick up the phone. You put it to your ear and pivot in the chair, hiding your face as your eyes roll into your head. There's no answer so you dial again. Still, the line continues to ring.

"Pardon me a moment, I'll go let Gerald know you're here," you stand as you hang up.

She grumbles and says nothing as her thin lips curve downward. You shuffle down to Gerald's door and knock. You only realise then how quiet it's been in the office. He's usually up to something, boasting about his golf swing or a new Rolex. 

You try again. When that doesn't work you slowly turn the handle and pray you aren't barging in on something you don't want to witness. You let go of the door as you see him, his head on his desk, entirely unmoving.

"Mr. Norris," you tiptoe forward and reach out, poking his shoulder, "Mr. Norris?"

You prod harder and he slumps, the chair wheeling out under his weight, and suddenly he falls onto the floor. Panic pools in your chest, leaking into your veins as your eyes widen. You stumble back and scurry back down the hall.

You fumble with the phone as Wendy watches you. You meet her dull hazel eyes as the wrinkles in her forehead deepen.

"Tell me your doorknob boss is in?" She says shrilly.

"He's…" you gulp and dial 999. You steady yourself against the desk as the other end clicks.

"Hello, what's your emergency?" The operator asks.

"It's my boss. I think… there's something wrong with him!" You blabber, "he's on the floor and he isn't moving and--"

"Typical," Wendy sneers as you try to focus on the voice in the speaker, "always wasting my time."

You watch her storm out and the door slams. Your head spins as you try to balance between your shock and disgust. First your skirt, now this. It is not a good day.