#raymond smith x f! reader

[rayslittlekitten]

You Won't Let Me

“Toff Girl” (aka “Damsel” Universe) Masterlist

A/N: I had a good chunk of this chapter written out even way before the last chapter was started. I got a little stuck on this but I think I finally got this to where I want it to be. I am sorry (not sorry) for all the angst in this. "You Won't Let Me" by Rachael Yamagata was the driving force behind this. "Under the Table" by BANKS was an inspiration as well (YT link for both below). Those are both beautiful songs and recommend checking them out if you're not familiar.

Rating: T/M (no smut, but some mentions of D/s dynamic/elements)

Word Count:  1,378

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!reader

Plot: Things don't go as expected when you thought you had it all figured out.

Contains: lots of hurt and angst, some mentions of D/s dynamics/elements, bratting, possible death threats?

Ray is sitting at the bar of Princess Victoria enjoying his afternoon tea while reading the paper. The pub isn't open for a few more hours for evening service. The quietness is interrupted when he hears the front door open.

"Sorry, we're not open--" Ray stops mid-sentence when he sees your reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

As you strut towards him, he spins around on his stool and is met with your lips crushing his. You grab his face and dig your fingers into his beard. You practically melt into him. Getting caught off guard, Ray allows it for a moment until he puts his hands on your waist and gently pushes you off as he stands up.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Ray asks.

"We had a problem you couldn’t solve and I just did that for you. For us.”

“What are you talking about?” Ray tilts his head, confused at what you’re referring to.

“Fletcher! He’s never going to blackmail us - I mean you and Mickey - ever again,” you tell him, unable to contain your excitement. “We can be together again!”

Ray quickly looks around the pub and the street right outside before locking the front door and pulling you into the dining area in the back where he and Mickey usually conduct their business for more privacy.

“What did you do?” Ray turns to face you with knitted brows.

“Let’s just say you and Mickey are not the only ones in London who have power and resources," you answer smugly with a smirk.

“For fuck’s sake!” He huffs and shakes his head. “That was my problem alone. Not yours to fix and I had fixed it!”

“God damn it, Ray!” You chuckle and shake your head. “I thought you would be happy about this.” 

Your chin starts to tremble and you put your hand over your frowning mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Ray breathes out as he helplessly watches you cry yet again. 

You shove him, slap his chest and then start pounding on it. Why do you torture yourself like this? You must truly be a masochist.

“No, you’re not! Just tell me Fletcher wasn’t the problem. If you didn't want to be with me anymore, just tell me instead of fabricating this stupid elaborate excuse,” you shout.

“It wasn’t an excuse–” Ray starts.

“Then why can’t we be together? I handled the only thing that was keeping us apart!”

“Fletcher is a greedy, sneaky cunt and will find any and every opportunity to milk as much money as he can from anyone. You should have talked to me about this before impulsively doing that,” he scoffs.

“Like how you talked to me about ending our relationship before deciding that for us?” you jab back. “Well I did what I thought was best for us.”

“Would you stop being a spoiled brat for one fucking moment? So what if you’re filthy rich? Money can’t solve every problem!” Ray steps in and gets right into your face. 

You stare at him and step in closer to him, your noses practically touching.

"Yes, I am a filthy rich spoiled brat and I would pay Fletcher off each and every time to keep his bloody mouth shut for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for me to get what I want. What are you going to do about it, huh?" One of your eyebrows lifts slightly.

Ray glares at you.

“I already did what was best for everyone and there’s nothing more I need to do. If you want to continue to throw money away at Fletcher, that has nothing to do with me,” Ray shakes his head and crosses his arms.

You suddenly slap him hard across the face, nearly knocking his glasses off. He looks back at you in shock. 

“What do you think you are doing?” He takes a small step back and adjusts his glasses.

“Being. A. Filthy. Rich. Spoiled. Brat.” You punctuate each word with a poke to his chest, making his eyes twitch.

“Stop it!” Ray snarls. 

“Make me!” You challenge as you take another step closer to him and try to slap him again but he catches your wrist.

Ray’s eyes go dark for a moment, focused on the satin collar around your neck hiding slightly under your jacket collar, after hearing the sweet jingle of the bell. His favorite.

You stare back at him, anticipating his next move. His eyes move back to yours and his face softens. He then intakes a quiet sharp breath when you kneel down in front of him.

“Get up,” he commands.

“Make me!” You repeat.

“This isn’t a game!”

“No, it’s not,” you agree, shaking your head.

“Michael is going to be here any minute,” he spits, glancing at his watch.

“I don’t care! Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t love me anymore and you’ll never hear from me or see me ever again,” you tell him.

Ray adjusts his glasses as he continues to stare down at you, exasperated.

“You need to leave,” he says while glancing at his watch.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” you demand again.

“It’s… it’s complicated,” he answers, his eyes twitching again.

“No, it’s not. It’s either you love me or you don’t.”

“Be a good girl for me and get up,” he tries again, changing tactics.

“No! Not until you-”

“The only reason we’re in this situation is because I love you!” he finally says. “We shouldn’t have even started seeing each other in the first place and I can only blame myself for allowing it to happen knowing what the risks were.”

“I don’t care about the risks,” you tell him. “It’s worth it.”

“I care about the risks. This isn’t just about you and me,” he starts. “There are a lot of people - innocent people - who can get hurt including your family if the wrong people find out about us.”

“I’ll behave,” you plead as you crawl over to him and rub your face against his thigh. “I’ll be a good kitten. I promise–” 

“Stop begging like a desperate fucking dog!” Ray snarls in disgust. “It’s pathetic!” he grabs your arm and yanks you up to your feet.

Normally, his degradation would turn you on, but his intentions behind his words feel far from playful and for once, it absolutely crushes you. Is that how he truly feels? Has he always felt this way?

“It’s over! You have to accept it!” he shouts.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Ray frantically takes a step back from you, creating distance and turning around to find Mickey walking in.

“H-hi, boss! Not at all!” he quickly spits out, feeling embarrassed. 

“Uh, Miss–” Ray glances over at you and does a double take when he sees the hurt in your damp eyes. It wasn’t the same sadness he saw earlier when he shot down your idea, not even when he broke up with you. He didn’t just break your heart just now. He also broke your spirit.

His face falls, regretting his choice of words in the heat of the moment.

“I was just leaving,” you finish his lingering sentence, before rushing out the pub without saying goodbye.

For a moment, Ray reaches out for you when you walk pass him, but he restrains himself at the last moment. He didn’t want to leave things between you like this. He watches you as you make your way through the pub until you’re out of sight.

“Ray, I thought I told you to handle that,” Mickey says as he pulls out a chair and settles in.

“I thought I did,” Ray replies. “But I don’t think there will be any more problems.”

“Well, there better not be or I may have to handle this one myself,” Mickey tells him. 

“Boss…you don’t mean–” Ray’s eyes start twitching.

“Ray, I’m not in the business of killing people,” Mickey cuts him off. “That is only reserved as a last resort for people really deserving of it.”

Ray lets out a breath of relief.

“But if I have to handle it myself, she’s going to wish she was dead. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, boss,” Ray nods.

“Good. Now, where are we with the Sheffields?”

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Should I start up thirsty thursday again? 🥵🔥

Hi! For Thirsty Thursday thots, can you please write something involving any Charlie Hunnam character involving starring in their own home movies? 😏 Thank you!!

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, sex tape, M & F masturbation.

Play me, the note reads, and you smile at the familiar handwriting of your favorite English Gentleman. You go over to your bag and pull out your laptop, setting it up on your lap, your back against the headboard. You pop the disc into the drive and smile when Ray comes on the screen, wearing that tight grey jumper.

"Ello love," he grins, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "I know this is the first time we've been apart since we got together fourteen months ago, and I wanted to make you a little something to ease the parting. Know that every night I'll only be dreaming of you."

He stands from the camera, and you hear some rustling before he comes back into the frame, his cock engulfed in his right hand, pumping slowly. "This is what you do to me, love, all I have to do is think of you, and I'm instantly hard." He sits down, and you see the way his arms flex, having taken off the jumper.

"My beautiful girl, touch yourself with me; go on touch that pretty pussy." His words are sin, and you follow the devil's command, dipping your hand beneath your sleep shorts and touching your swollen clit. You gasp as you time your touch with the pumping of his cock.

"I bet you wish it was my hands on that cunt," fuck, you loved it when he said that word. "Two thick fingers buried inside you, come on, love, you can do better than that."

You move your hand lower, dipping two fingers into your weeping cunt. He groans, "that's it, baby, just like that, does it feel good? Can you just imagine me stretching you around this thick cock."

"Feels so fucking good, Ray," you whimper.

"Grab your breast, pinch those nipples for me, love. I can just see you now, getting off on my voice." He spits into his palm, and you could cum right there watching him spread it over his cock, and speed up his hand. "Faster, love, pump those fingers faster, take care of my little pussy; she misses her daddy."

"Oh fuck, Ray," you toss your head back, listening to his groans, the sound of his fist slapping his waist with every pump.

"Are you gonna cum, love? Soak those sheets, baby, come on, I want to hear you." You cum with a cry clenching around your fingers as you open your eyes to see Ray spill his seed all over his waist. "That's a good girl," he hums breathlessly, "you did so good."

"Fucking hell," you whisper, trying to catch your breath.

"Now, why don't you give me a call? I want to hear you cum this time." You close the laptop quickly and reach for your phone, pressing the picture of the two of you kissing at Mickey's vow renewal. "Hello, love," he sounds smug, and you grin.

"Hello Ray, I liked your video." He hums low, and you feel the arousal begin to pool between your thighs.

"Good, I thought you would now let me hear this time. You can't have all the fun." You hear the zipper of his slacks, and you smile, shimmying off your shorts and getting settled in for a long night.

[reveluving]

I need him. 🫠

a/n: NAVYYY! My goodness, do I need him too kdslsjk I can always trust you to fuel my love for this man like no other 😌🙏🏼Wanted something extra sweet so enjoy this little idea!! THANKS MOTHER ILY!!

warnings: lovestruck raymond, fluffy fluff, brief mentions of movie-style violence & explicit language!

» curious about both fall and winter specials this year? come & check out this year's 'reve's quirky reverie' m.list! ❄️'!

Imagine how beat Raymond is, having done Mickey's dirty work as usual, but is unable to take his eyes off you as his head remains lolled to the side as it perches on the headrest of the couch.

Watching you whip up some good quality hot chocolate on the stove—not even the finest cafés could make it as good as you—after convincing him to stay put and relax. He's a little more refreshed after a good shower, and fuck, if he didn't want to wrap his arms around you from behind so badly—

But, for you, he remains seated like the good boy he was, a dumb smile already gracing his lips upon imagining the big smile on your face after seeing him still melted on the couch like you had asked him to.

The thoughts he had of you while he worked his ass off at work couldn't hold a candle to seeing you just a few feet away now. Making sure he was as snug as a bug from the chilly weather like he hadn't killed a man point-blank hours ago.

While he knew you could handle a drop of blood or two, he didn't take the risk, washing the crimson fluid off as soon as he came home to ensure not even a speck stained your skin.

Now, there he sat, waiting for his beloved, though he'd be lying to say he did it patiently.

You can see how he visibly perks up as soon as you turn around, approaching with two hot mugs topped with a generous dollop of chantilly cream, making it almost as sweet as you.

His arms are already open, helping you with the mugs before tugging you to the couch with him.

It's that sweet giggle of yours that has his hold tightening around you.

You know he pretends not to hear you when you playfully tell him to let you breathe. His eyes already fluttering shut, despite putting his lips to work, covering the spot between your neck and shoulder with kisses, tickling you with his beard on purpose.

You can feel the cheeky smile against your skin as you wriggle and laugh against him. He only grants you mercy when you reach for the mug, his mug, to offer to him. He relents, smiling over the rim of the glass as you maintain cheeky eye contact.

Even after a satisfying fill of warm chocolate, he wants another fill of something sweeter, more satisfying in every way especially after the day he’s had as he watches you place your mug back on the coffee table before pulling you with him as he lay on the couch, snuggling you like he wants—needs to keep you warm like you do him. 

Always.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: Considering this as the first winter bonus for Quirky Reverie because why not!!

[puffins-muffins]

Disruption

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader

Word Count: about 4k

Summary: Ray’s been buried in work for hours, but you’ve been craving his attention and you know exactly how to get it.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please, minors DNI!! (unprotected - be responsible!) P in V sex, cursing, established relationship, thigh riding, very soft Dom!Ray, orgasm control, light degradation (dirty talk)

A/N: Y'all, this man has the patience of a saint - but he's finally making his debut!! 🙌🏻 Just a really quick shoutout to the best bestie ever, Laur (@laurfilijames)! Because we wouldn't even have this if it wasn't for her! ANNNND the title idea/brainstorm sesh!! My beautiful, brilliant minded friend - thank you for getting me through this one. 👯‍♀️ I love you endlessly!!! ✨All feedback (reblogs, comments, likes) is much appreciated and encouraged!! ✨ Enjoy babes! 🩷

Ray’s been at the dining room table for hours. Papers spread out; laptop open - some godforsaken ledger pulled up with a scowl carved into his face. Perfectly content to ignore the way you’ve been pacing around the house like a restless cat in heat.

You tried reading, scrolling, even taking a long bath to distract yourself. But he hasn’t looked up once - not when you padded past him with wet hair and freshly lotioned skin. Not when you slipped into one of his oversized cardigans - soft, worn-in wool that smelled like him, and nothing else but a pair of lace panties.

None of it worked.

Each time you walk past, he’s there - so focused, so calm, so fucking hot about it. And you’re bored, dripping into your panties because he hasn’t touched you all day.

Now you hover at the edge of the room, arms crossed beneath your chest, one hip cocked out, watching him. The deep blue walls and low pendant lights bathe him in warm amber, highlighting the sharp lines of his face and the steady, graceful rhythm of his pen against paper.

The soft grey pullover sweater he’s wearing clings to his back, the fabric stretching over lean, hard muscle. When he reaches forward or shifts in his chair, you watch the defined lines move beneath the material - all quiet dominance and control.

He has the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing lean forearms threaded with veins and the solid weight of his favorite watch. His glasses sit perched low on his nose, his brow slightly furrowed as he makes notes on whatever spreadsheet he’s buried in now.

You sigh, loudly. Theatrically. But Ray doesn’t even glance up.

However, you do notice the faintest hesitation in his pen. He doesn’t react outwardly, but the subtlest shift sets across his toned shoulders, telling you he’s not as focused on his work as he’s pretending to be.

You can’t help the way your lips purse, just a little, at the realization. A quiet spark of satisfaction curls at the corners of your mouth.

Smirking, you saunter towards him, each barefoot step slow - letting the cardigan swing open just enough to tease. You stop behind his chair, stealing another moment to admire the shape of his back. There’s something so goddamn beautiful about the way he works - you could watch him like this for hours, casually running empires from the dining room.

His rich scent hits you as you approach - a hint of cedar from his cologne, clean detergent, and the lingering warmth of musk that always clings to him. It sinks into your lungs, leaving your head spinning in the best kind of way.

You shift in beside him, close enough to be felt, your voice soft and spoiled, almost petulant as you speak. “You’ve been working forever.”

He hums, his pen still moving. “Because someone has to make sure the money’s clean, darling.”

His pinky ring catches the light as he writes, glinting with every movement - precise and practiced, like everything he does.

Reaching out, you trail your finger slowly across his back, gliding from one broad shoulder to the other. The soft knit of his sweater shifts beneath your touch, and you feel the tension ripple beneath it.

“Are you insinuating that I’m dirty, Raymond?” you tease, your voice dipping low as you lean down, lips brushing his ear. Your teeth graze the shell of it, just a nip, soft and delicate - before pulling back with a wicked little smile.

Ray pauses at that, setting the pen down with a soft click, and lifts his head. He looks at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes dragging slowly over your body - your bare legs, the cardigan slipping low, the peek of lace beneath. He blinks once - then again, fast. A tic you’ve come to recognize. It’s how he reins himself in when he’s trying to stay composed.

Something he’s struggled with more since you came into his life, but not in a way he minds.

He turns slowly in his chair, finally facing you - gaze pinned, taking his time, indulging in your sight like it’s his reward.

His hand drags thoughtfully across his beard, like he’s weighing something - his fingers disappearing for a moment in the thick, meticulously kept scruff. Then he tips his chin and gestures toward his lap with a nod. “Come here,” he commands.

You bite your lip, eyes wide and a little too innocent, even as you let the cardigan slip a touch lower off your shoulder - just enough to offer a better view of your breast. Your tone is soft and sweet on the surface, but it’s laced with mischief. “Thought you were working.”

“I am.” His voice drops, low and sharper now. “Don’t make me ask again.”

A soft, excited meep slips past your lips - something small and involuntary, because you love it when he gets like this. You obey instantly, straddling his lap without hesitation, settling yourself over one thick, tailored thigh.

Ray raises an eyebrow when he realizes where you’re sitting. “What exactly are you doing?” he asks, voice edged with intrigue - his eyebrow still lifted, the corner of his mouth twitching like he's this close to smiling.

You rock your hips once, just to test him, and the pressure is perfect. Denim against lace. His firm muscle pressed right where you need it.

Your arms curl around his neck, fingertips brushing the nape of it, leaning in close. “Getting creative,” you purr, dragging your lips over his jaw. “Since you’re too busy to fuck me.”

Ray doesn’t move, but his hands come up, gripping your hips. And then his thigh flexes beneath you, just once - enough to make you feel it. He watches you like something primal and a little bit entertained, a faint sound catching in his throat.

“Go on, then,” he orders, his tone is dry with a tinge of amusement as he indulges you. “You’re already making a mess of my evening. Might as well make a mess of my fucking trousers while you’re at it.”

Glancing up at him through your lashes, your mouth curves into a smile that’s playful, sheepish, and just a little smug. Ray hates mess. Hates anything unclean or out of order. But you? He wants the mess when it’s yours.

You start to move slowly at first. Hips rolling in lazy motions, grinding yourself down on the solid muscle of his thigh. The friction is divine, and every drag of lace against denim makes you press down harder.

He’s focused, tracking each twitch of your lip, every flutter of your lashes, all the tiny reactions in the way you rock against him. You let out a breathy moan, soft and helpless, grinding down exactly right - and his composure falters. His jaw tics, his long fingers flex against your hips, like the sound and feel of you is almost too much for him.

Your eyes lock - his are dark and calm, yours wide and hungry. He doesn’t blink or move, just holds you there on his leg with his firm grip and consuming stare. Your pulse hammers in your throat - you shouldn’t like being watched this much, but you do. There’s something raw and electric about the way he looks at you.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm builds, pressure curling deep in your belly. The cardigan slips off one shoulder with the increased movement, your body flushed and glistening with heat underneath it. Ray tilts his head slightly and adjusts his glasses like he’s refocusing.

Both hands move up your body, one arm wraps around your waist, keeping you balanced. The other slips beneath the wool draped around your unexposed shoulder, guiding it down your arm.

Your chest is bare to him now, your nipples stiff from the air and your own need. He studies you with quiet obsession - his hand slides up to cup one breast fully, his thumb brushing over the swollen peak while he watches your breath hitch at the contact. He squeezes, enough to make your body jolt, then repeats the motion on the other side. The sound he pulls from you is almost pathetic - high and fragile enough to make him smirk.

“You know how good you look like this?” he praises, slate-blue eyes locked on your chest as his thumb teases you again. “These perfect tits out. Cunt soaked for me.”

His cardigan pools around your elbows as your pace stutters, hips grinding faster and harder as you chase the pressure. Every movement of your clit sweeping over his thigh sends pleasure rolling through you.

Desperate, broken noises spill from your lips, gasping as your grip tightens on his shoulders, nails biting into the soft material of his sweater - completely losing yourself on the muscle he’s tensed just for you.

“Can’t help but act up when you want my cock, can you?” he growls low, his thigh flexing hard beneath you again.

You whimper, your head shaking from side to side with hopeless want. He can see how far gone you are - pupils blown wide, sweat clinging to your skin, your pink mouth parted in a silent, pleading gasp. But you don’t let go. Because he hasn’t told you to.

And you’re waiting - just like he’s taught you too.

You’re grinding frantically against him now, breath catching on every exhale, lost in the burning haze of need. Your orgasm is just out of reach, held hostage by the absence of his permission - while he watches - composed, relishing in it.

Ray is savoring this - the way your release belongs to him. He loves to own these moments, making sure your orgasm isn’t just something you take, but something he gives.

And then his voice slices through it all. “Do it,” he instructs, quiet and absolute. “Make a mess, love.”

His order is your undoing - your hips jerk forward, involuntarily, chasing that final bit of friction. The tension coils so tightly it’s nearly unbearable - your breath shatters, legs trembling as your entire body locks up in ecstasy. You cry out, grinding against him as your orgasm burns through your core, blurring your vision and leaving you slack with pleasure. You soak his thigh completely, the mess is hot and unfiltered, gushing through the lace and darkening the fabric beneath you.

You’re panting against his chest, eyes fluttering open slowly, still floating in that haze. And when you finally look up at him, his gaze is dark and heavy with desire - like he’s drinking in the sight of you ruined and breathless in his arms and loving every second of it.

“Needy little thing,” he remarks, not even trying to hide the amusement in his tone at your behavior.

Ray’s hand moves to your jaw, fingers curling gently around it as he guides your face closer to his, leaning in to press a kiss to your damp temple.

He shifts beneath you then, lifting you off his lap with gentle care. You whimper softly at the absence, legs still shaky, and he steadies you while you find your footing.

That’s when you see it, the shape of him - hard, thick, and straining beneath his trousers. Your breath catches, and you nibble on your lips as your thighs instinctively clench. You're still aching, still needy, because he hasn’t fucked you properly yet.

But Ray knows this, and without a word, he reaches for the cardigan still hanging from your arms. He slips it down slowly, knuckles grazing your sides as the wool glides over your skin, removing it and folding it over the back of the chair - neat and methodical, just like him.

With a quiet shift, he removes his glasses - holding them delicately in one hand - while his other bunches the fabric of his sweater between his shoulder blades. In one smooth motion, he pulls it up and over his head, muscles flexing as golden skin stretches across his torso. His chest is broad, lean, and defined in a way that’s always present beneath whatever crisp layers he wears. His stomach muscles contract with the motion, and as the fabric clears his head, it tousles his perfectly styled hair - leaving it just slightly disheveled.

He drapes it over top of the discarded cardigan, still holding his glasses, still watching you, before he slides them back on. His eyes trail down your body, devouring every inch of you standing there in nothing but those lace panties, chest flushed from release, plump lips parted, legs pressed together like you’re trying to hold in what’s left of your composure.

Ray looks down at you for a moment longer, like he can’t quite believe how pretty you are like this. His hand lifts, brushing the pad of his thumb slowly across your bottom lip, feeling the softness. He watches you like he’s starving, the quiet intensity in his eyes makes your pulse stutter. Your mouth parts, and you take his thumb between your lips - just to show that you’ll let him do anything.

And then almost like a switch, his expression changes, eyes darkening with intent as he instructs, “Turn around.”

You do as you’re told without hesitation.

He places one hand between your shoulder blades and guides you forward until your bare stomach meets the edge of the table. His palm flattens gently against your back, and with that same calm control, presses you down and bends you over without a word of resistance.

You brace yourself on the table, breath shallow, chest rising and falling against the cool wood. Behind you, there’s the quiet clink of his belt coming undone, the low slide of leather through denim - the sound alone makes your stomach flip.

Just as your breath steadies, you feel him at your hips, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He drags the lace down slowly, letting it slide over the curve of your ass, your thighs, until it catches around your ankles. The fabric is damp, clinging slightly from how soaked you are, and you feel the low rumble of approval from his chest as your foot moves to kick them aside.

He pushes your legs further apart with a nudge of his toe, causing you to gasp softly. But you move easily and eagerly - parting your thighs wider for him, desperate to be filled. The cool air against your bare cunt only intensifies the ache between your legs.

The heat of his body crowds in around you as the weight of his cock brushes your inner thigh. He guides himself through your dripping folds, dragging his tip slowly between your swollen lips, smearing your release all over his length. His precum mixes with you - warm, sticky, and lewd.

One slow roll of his hips, and he’s pressing inside you - holding, letting you feel the stretch begin. The first few inches make your knees buckle. He’s thick and unforgiving, filling you up like it’s the first time all over again. You clench around him, greedily trying to take more, but he holds steady - giving you only what he wants.

Then he sinks in - and the most delectable, shameless sound escapes your body. Ray grunts at the feel of you, his hand coming to your hip, holding you firmly as he starts to move.

He fucks you with long, deep strokes - dragging the length of himself all the way out before thrusting back in, a bit harder each time. The pressure, the fullness, the overwhelming movement of him, slams into you all at once.

His grip tightens around your waist, one hand trailing slowly up your back, firm and steady, pinning you to the table.

You whimper, fingers digging into the edge of the table - no matter how many times he fucks you, no matter how wet or ready you are, the feel of him inside you always leaves you wrecked. So much and not nearly enough - an exquisite kind of ache.

A moan tears from your throat, loud and greedy, while Ray sets his pace - punishing and devastatingly precise. The table shifts beneath you, legs creaking in protest, and somewhere under your cheek, you feel papers slipping - documents he’d been buried in all evening, now pushed askew by the force of your body jolting against the wood.

“This what you needed?” he taunts, his voice a mixture of gravel and silk. “After all that whining - this what you were after?”

You nod, gasping his name as he drives deeper, harder, each thrust stealing the air from your lungs. His own breathing grows heavier, but his control never wavers - one hand stays locked around your waist, the other ghosts up your spine.

“Listen to you,” he utters, dark and amused. “Can’t even take a proper fuck without crying for it like a filthy thing.”

A high pitched whimper tumbles from your lips at his words, mouth open against the table, fingers still clawing at the edge for something to hold onto while he drills into you - measured and merciless.

Ray goes on, his breath brushing across your skin. “Couldn’t behave yourself. Grinding this cunt all over my fucking thigh, desperate for anything I’d give you.”

His fingers slide up the back of your neck and tangle into your hair, curling tight - not forceful, but to keep you right where he wants you. He leans in until his mouth hovers at your ear, the heat of him sending goosebumps down your spine.

“But you like being like this, don’t you?” he rasps, his voice rough and raw.

Another thrust and your voice stutters from your throat as he fucks into you like he owns you, hitting your g-spot, over and over, making your legs quiver under the pressure of it, your body clenching tight. You’re dripping for him, so wet he buries himself in your drenched heat, every thrust slick and loud.

He pants, “Soaked and spread out for me,” hips snapping forward again, “My perfect, messy girl.”

You sob out his name, wrecked and breathless - his only response is another relentless thrust of his hips and a low snarl. You feel him everywhere - wrapped in your hair, pressed along your spine - mouthing filth into your skin like its devotion.

He straightens up behind you while his pace quickens, skin on skin echoing off the walls. You gasp, your head turning just enough to look over your shoulder - and what you see nearly undoes you all over again.

Ray’s brow is furrowed, jaw clenched, sweat beading along his temple. He’s flushed, focused, and fucking you so purposeful, it could only be him. Without breaking his stride, he lifts one hand to his face, slipping his glasses off.

He wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist, a low exhale slipping between his clenched teeth. Then, hurried, he slides them right back on. You watch his lashes flutter once, then twice, and again in quick succession.

Because he needs to see.

Needs to watch the way he sinks into you with every push - how soaked your cunt is, how you clutch around him like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

The sight of him above you, bare-chested and sweating, muscles flexing with every snap of his hips, working his cock into you - steals the breath straight from your lungs and makes your head spin with how utterly gone you are for him.

You feel it building again - quick and heavy - your body still strung out from riding his thigh, the teasing, the stretch of him. Your clit throbs, your arousal making a mess of both your thighs and the table beneath you.

“That's it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride. “Squeezing me so good, going to milk every drop out of me.”

You nod urgently, hips jerking, the tops of your thighs bumping the edge of the table, his name slipping past your mouth in broken cries.

You can’t wait - not this time.

“Please… please, let me! I need to come, Ray - please!”

You’re begging before he even gives the word, too desperate to hold it in, too strung out to care. You typically know better, but right now, all you can do is plead.

Your desperation punches right through his composure. He groans, low and ragged, his usual soft tone completely abandoned. And that’s when his fingers slide low - finding your clit, rubbing it just right, coaxing your orgasm forward while his cock pounds into your perfect spot.

You cry out for him - broken and high - as your orgasm slams through you like a wave, your vision going white at the edges. You pulse around him hard, soaking him all over again, the slick sounds between you turning obscene.

But Ray doesn’t stop.

His thrusts keep coming, dragging you straight into overstimulation. Whining, you tremble beneath him as your body jerks, raw and ruined - tipping past the edge until you're spiraling all over again.

He groans out, pace faltering, hips snapping faster as he loses his own control. “Fucking hell - look at you,” he pants. “Can’t stop making messes all over me.”

You’re still pulsing around him, fluttering and tight, and it tips him. With a hoarse sound, he drives into you one last time and spills deep, flooding you with his release. You feel every throb of it, every warm pulse as he fills you with his cum, groaning again, hips rocking slowly, like he can’t stop, like he needs to feel every last drop sink into you.

His movement softens, breath ragged against your back as he stays buried, grinding lazily through the aftershocks. With a final exhale, he lets his weight settle over you gently, his chest pressed to you, his body flush with yours.

His lips land on your shoulder - light and slow - kissing you there once, then again - a little lower, a little longer. The brush of his thick beard against your skin is warm and scratchy, pulling you gently into the afterglow.

You shift slightly beneath him, and he finally, gently pulls out - his softening cock slipping free with a low groan, followed by the slow warmth of his release trickling down your thigh.

He presses a final kiss to your shoulder, then lifts up from you just enough to move. One hand stays on your back while the other slides around your waist.

“Easy now,” he soothes, voice low and spent.

With a careful grip, he helps you upright, guiding your body back against his chest, steadying you as your shaky legs try to find themselves again. His arm wraps fully around you, keeping you close.

You lean into him, flushed and breathless, your skin damp, a gorgeous grin spreads across your lips - it’s lazy and satisfied, like you’ve just been thoroughly, completely fucked out of your mind.

Ray glances down, catches the look on your face, and shakes his head with a soft, incredulous laugh. “Christ, love. You act like this wasn’t your plan the second I opened my laptop.”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence - but the mischief in your eyes gives you away completely. “It wasn’t!” you protest, far too quickly - your voice softening, sweet and smug, before adding “…But you left me unattended.”

Ray lets out a quiet breath as he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to the space between your cheek and your ear - softly inhaling your scent, a private little indulgence.

“I ought to fucking know better,” he mutters against your skin, but here’s no bite in it, only fondness and amused surrender. The kind of affection reserved for someone who keeps getting away with it… because he wants them to.

As he steps back, his ringed hand slips from your waist to your ass, delivering a firm little swat that makes you gasp and laugh.

“Minx,” he mutters dryly under his breath - like its fact.

And fuck if you don’t already want to do it all over again.

[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.

---

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Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @maggiemayhemnj @thedreadandthefugitivemind @rhoorl

[dreamlandcreations]

Thank you for the tag @kayhi808

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

I'm starting a new post bc I have too many WIPs (and these are just the ones in my drafts) 🙈

tag as many people as there are documents... but but but there are more than a hundred drafts 😭 anyway

tagging: @zablife @raincoffeeandfandoms @cinebration @marvelmusing @massivecolorspygiant @celestialspecial @stardustmorozov @startrekkingaroundasgard @oneeyedvisenya @happilyhertale @drabbles-mc @withmyteeth @runnning-outof-time @storiesbyrhi @nickfowlerrr

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What's underneath? - Alfie x Reader

You only need to ask - Raymond Smith x aristocrat!Reader

What about dessert? - chef!Alfie x manager!Reader (modern!au)

The bright side - FO!Poe Dameron x Jedi!Reader

More than seeking comfort - Eddie Brock x Reader

Bait - Derek Hale x hunter!Reader

Cosy on the throne - Tattooed Biker!Boba Fett x Reader

This is not your color - Eddie Munson x Reader

Distraction - Max x Reader (Mad Max: Fury Road)

Three is still a company - Billy Russo x Reader x Frank Castle

You missed a spot - Brother Day x Reader

Behind closed doors - Darkling x Sun Summoner!Reader

Don't mind me - Alfie Solomons x Reader (x Tommy Shelby)

Feeling adventurous? - Eddie Munson x Reader

I can wait - Alina x Reader (Darkling x Alina x Mal)

Why the f*ck not? - Alfie Solomons x Reader x May Carleton x Tommy Shelby

Solace - Boba Fett x Reader

First time - Billy Russo x Reader

I'm all yours - Billy Russo x Reader

Patience - Billy Russo x Reader

The Happiest Day of Our Lives - Darkling x Sun Summoner!Reader

Mirror, mirror - Aleksander Morozova x Reader (xAlina)

Perfect - Darkling x Reader

Necessary evil - Darkling x Inferni!Reader

King of the Seven Seas - Atlantean king!Alfie x Reader

Don't you f*cking dare - chef!Alfie Solomons x manager!Reader

Do you doubt me? - James Delaney x Strange!Reader

Remedy - James Delaney x Reader

Unexpected - Matt Murdock x Reader x Elektra

Sweet torment - Alfie Solomons x Reader

Mr CEO - Billy Russo x Reader

Complications - Darkling x reader

Preying on you tonight - werewolf!Billy Russo x Reader

Sweet victory - Jake Seresin x Reader

The fun kind - Jake Seresin x Reader

Catch me if you can - Jake Seresin x Reader

Black and White - Darkling x Fjerdan princess!Reader

Stay Forever - Jake Seresin x BFF!Reader

In my corner - Billy Russo x Reader

Heartbeat - Milo/Lucien Crown x Reader

Just friends - modern!Alfie Solomons x Reader

That's the rule - Jake Seresin x Reader

Fire and Blood - Daemon x daughter!Reader (platonic)

The Bronze Witch - Aemond Targaryen x Daemon's daughter!Reader

Unity - Darkling x Fjerdan!Reader x Nikolai Lantsov

Risk and reward - Jake Seresin x Reader

Late night visit - Aemond x Reader

Peace offering - Aemond x Reader

The first warning - Darkling x Grisha!Reader

Stay with me - Darkling x Grisha!Reader

Like calls to like - Darkling x Grisha!Reader

Darkest hearts - Darkling x Nikolai's twin!Reader

Nothing - Darkling x Grisha!Reader

Heartbreak - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

The eternity of this day - Darkling x Sun Summoner!Reader

A dream come true - Eames x Reader

A debt to be paid - Aemond x Reader

Honourable Quest - Xenk Yendar x Reader

Honouring a Debt - Xenk Yendar x Reader

Sacrifice of Honour - Xenk Yendar x Reader

My Queen - Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Naru - Sesshōmaru x modern!Reader

Fire and Blood, Ashes and Dust - Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

Give him to me - Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

The Taming of the Dragon - Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

The day you died - supervillain!Darkling x superhero!Reader

[ineffable-endearments]

No Woman No Cry by Rita Marley with Hettie Jones

What could a memoir by Rita Marley, widow of Bob Marley, one of the most internationally renowned musicians of all time, possibly have to do with Good Omens? This is what I was wondering when I saw it on the "book club" list in Amazon's X-Ray feature, and what I was determined to find out by requesting it from the library.

[ID: A screen capture from Good Omens Season 2 Episode 2: several books on Aziraphale's bookshop shelf. From left to right, the legible titles are: I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith; No Woman, No Cry by Rita Marley; The Crow Road by Iain Banks; The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon; Catch-22 by Joseph Heller; Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez; Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell; The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler; The Bible; The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald; The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger; A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket; Herzog by Saul Bellow. There are a few other books, but their titles can't be seen in the screen capture. At the bottom of the frame are Gabriel's blurred fingers as he removes another book from the shelf. End ID]

Screen capture is from cap-that.com.

As a nonfiction narrative about real people, some of whom are still alive, No Woman No Cry is different from all the other books on the list. It's got intimate details about real people's lives and major historical events, and that is why I'm not going to make one-to-one comparisons to my favorite fictional story.

But I will write a summary and a reflection on it.

Warning for the summary and essay below about racism, colonialism, rape, and spousal abuse. Do feel free to chat or ask me about more specifics, if you're concerned about reading those subjects. Also, though it's a memoir rather than fiction, there are, of course, many spoilers.

So, first of all: I am in so very far over my head when it comes to discussing the deeper themes of this book. I grew up a middle-class white girl in Connecticut, USA in the 1990s and 2000s and experienced neither abuse nor fame in early adulthood; this memoir is written by a woman who grew up a dark-skinned black girl in deep poverty in Jamaica in the middle of the twentieth century, then experienced a dizzying combination of fame and abuse almost all at once. I can empathize with Rita's story as she tells it, but to analyze and extrapolate in any sort of insightful way? No, I don't think I can do that. No Woman No Cry deserves reflection, though. Please kindly bear with a little clumsiness.

I can see from online discussion that a lot of people come out of this book feeling shocked and dismayed to discover that Bob Marley did, indeed, abuse his wife, including an instance she described as "almost rape" when he simply would not accept a sexual rejection. After writing about all this and more, though, Rita Marley continues to miss, love, and admire Bob; per the online comments, many readers seem to have decided that she is misguided, afflicted, or outright delusional for feeling this way. Although I could not forgive Bob's abuses, I also cannot dismiss the positive meanings that Rita has taken from her time with Bob. It's her story, not mine, and she already has her own way of synthesizing the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Summary

No Woman No Cry starts with Rita Marley recalling Bob Marley's death.

But then I started to cry and said, "Bob, please, don't leave me." And he looked up and said, "Leave you, go where? What are you crying for? Forget crying, Rita. Just keep singing. Sing! Sing!" So I kept singing, and then I realized, wow, that's exactly what the song was saying: "I will never leave you, wherever you are I will be..."

Rita Marley's full maiden name was Alfarita Constantia Anderson, but she went by Rita her whole life. Her parents separated, as was common, and she lived with her beloved Aunty Viola for much of her youth. Rita was bullied by her classmates for her dark skin; though most Jamaicans are people of color, eurocentric beauty standards brought in by colonialism still led to a strong bias toward lighter skin.

Rita met Bob Marley in Trench Town when they were both getting into music; Rita was in a group called The Soulettes, and Bob was in a group called The Wailers with his friends Peter and Bunny. They bonded over music. They also bonded over Bob's generosity with Aunty and taking care of Rita's child, as Rita was a single mother at the time and Bob was nurturing toward her baby daughter, Sharon. Interestingly, Rita stated she initially got involved in Bob's personal life because she felt she wanted to take care of him, as he didn't have anywhere comfortable to live.

Bob got Rita interested in Rastafari, which connected with her spiritually and helped her gain confidence in her beauty and worth as a black woman. Rita gives Bob a great deal of credit throughout the narrative for helping her discover herself.

Rita and Bob had very little income for the early part of their marriage. They had to stay in a single room at Aunty's house, and although they loved Aunty, it was just too crowded, especially since Aunty and Rita's brother did not approve of all of their decisions. They were judgmental of Rastafari, for example, which had no respect in Jamaica. (Although there is still bias against Rastafarians today, things are a bit better.)

Over the next several years, Rita and Bob moved a few times while continuing to work on Bob's music; they had homes in Nine Mile and then again in Kingston. Rita describes the two of them getting into "love fights" and then making up; they would fight "like children," as she put it, although she was left with physical injuries at times. Aunty warned Rita against staying with a spouse who would hit her. Rita, however, didn't want to leave, partly out of love and partly because she felt that maintaining the marriage was a duty. She also believed she and Bob would always actively choose to be friends, no matter what happened. Bob made up with both Rita and Aunty.

Rita considered different career paths, which included some music, but also the possibility of nursing. On the other hand, Bob devoted himself entirely to music, except for a short time working in the United States. Both Bob and Rita worked in the United States at different times. Neither of them liked it. During Rita's stay in the US, she hated being away from home and felt like she was growing apart from Bob. When Rita got back to Jamaica, she discovered that two other women were pregnant with Bob's children. Though she was angry, Rita decided that because of her spirituality and her continued love, she would remain married to Bob, but would focus on taking care of herself and the children. By now, the family had three children: Shannon (who Rita had before meeting Bob and who Bob formally adopted), Cedella, and David Nesta (better known as Ziggy).

This whole time, Bob had been working on music, with Rita helping when she wasn't away in the US. They had been establishing relationships with studios and selling records, and were seeing some success.

Bob and the Wailers' new producer gave them a house as a space to work and make music. That house was at 56 Hope Road in Kingston, and it's still a famous site today. By the time they got that house, Bob was entirely the one performing with the Wailers, while Rita was mostly taking care of the children. Because of the constant activity from strangers, business dealings, and womanizing that went on at Hope Road, Rita did not want to raise her children there, and she decided to get a government-sponsored house in Bull Bay, another city.

Bob ultimately bought the house in Bull Bay at Rita's request. Rita worked hard on developing her independence while she was raising the children there; she learned to drive and garden, and the garden yielded many fruits and vegetables. Aunty and other friends helped out, too.

Bob financially supported Rita and the children. He divided his time between the house in Bull Bay, the house at 56 Hope Road in Kingston, and tours. Rita and Bob's relationship seemed to be somewhat fluid here; on one hand, Rita describes herself as a "friend" or "sister," and she strongly contemplated divorce. But she also describes how she got a basement studio at the Bull Bay home, and how she and Bob would go down there to make out sometimes, or, more often, to make music. Sometimes, they'd even have little family "events" in that basement studio wherein the children, who were now a bit older and had strong interests in music themselves, could put on imaginary little shows for fun.

Although Bob constantly had girlfriends, he got inordinately jealous of Rita's friend and neighbor, Owen Stewart, known as Tacky. Tacky was not initially a romantic interest. However, Bob assumed he was. One night, Rita informed Bob that she didn't want to have sex anymore because of his constant philandering; she wanted to take a stand. But he was absolutely insistent, arguing that he should be able to have sex with her because she was his wife, until she finally went along with him. Rita comments, "I was almost raped that night."

It sounds like it was rape to me. And Rita got pregnant from it. She and Bob now had another son, Stephen.

Rita and Tacky had by then started having a sexual relationship, which Bob tried to confront Tacky about. One of Bob's girlfriends just happened to appear right while he was talking to Tacky, which was a massive embarrassment and which Tacky correctly used to point out Bob's hypocrisy. Bob stopped arguing, and Rita continued her relationship with Tacky. Rita also had a child with Tacky, a daughter named Stephanie, who Bob adopted.

Life, incredibly, moved on, and Rita suggested to Bob that she should start a juice bar with some of her produce at his Hope Road studio location. Bob agreed, and Rita started the stand that eventually became the Queen of Sheba restaurant. Everyone loved her organic food; Rita comments that Bob was her best customer and PR man.

While running the Queen of Sheba restaurant, Rita reconnected with some friends: Minnie, Judy, and Marcia. Minnie helped a great deal with the restaurant. Rita, Minnie, and Judy wanted to start a Rastafarian women's organization and school for Rastafarian children, while Rita, Judy, and Marcia agreed to sing together at a club. It was Rita's first public performance in a long time.

Right after this, The Wailers broke up. Specifically, Bob signed on again with the same record label and would still work with new singers as "Bob Marley and the Wailers," but the other Wailers, Peter and Bunny, left. They weren't happy with the way the label was headlining Bob. Bob felt deeply hurt by the group's dissolution, but he asked Rita, Marcia, and Judy to come sing backup with him in the studio and on tour.

Bob was paying Rita, as well as Marcia and Judy. But at the same time, Rita got to make music with Bob again, and she loved that. She was very happy to go on tour with him, partly out of a desire to spend time together again - through all the horrible things that had happened, they still loved each other and wanted to spend time together. Rita was also happy to be working on her own musical career. Rita, Marcia, and Judy had named their trio the I-Three, and this would be solid work for all of them.

Rita insisted on getting to be her own separate person on tour, a member of the I-Three instead of Mrs. Marley. She writes about wanting to continue looking after Bob on the road - ensuring his laundry was done and meals were eaten, for example. But otherwise, she stated, she was free to do whatever she wanted on the road in a way she couldn't be at home and wouldn't have been if she were expected to be acting as Mrs. Marley the whole entire time. She also, however, writes about missing her children and her home dearly.

Again, Bob and Rita's relationship continued to seem very fluid. Bob would get jealous if he thought other men were involved with Rita; there was even an incident when he came into her hotel room, started shouting when he saw a male friend in there, lifted Rita up off the bed, and dropped her back on the bed. But he also continued to have affairs and children with other women. Rita writes that she wasn't threatened by many of these women because there were so many of them and they didn't represent serious relationships. Rita also felt it was easier to just take Bob's children by other women into her home, and she often had friendships with their mothers. There were a few women who seemed serious enough for Rita to be hurt by their presence, but over and over again, she chose not to worry about it, because she viewed her role as more important.

Despite the difficulties of dealing with Bob's womanizing and being away from home, Rita chose to stay on tour for all those years because she was instrumental in holding together "such a good thing" - Bob's musical tours with the I-Three - and she sensed it was important to people all over the world. She also loved the sense of individual development she got from that time. Rita comments:

Take your troubles to the Lord and not to the people, I'd tell myself. So I did just that---I prayed. And I gave my part, I gave it honestly. I gave my part, from the heart, and I was paid for it. Paid every week, just like everybody else. So I could maintain myself, not just physically, but with a lot of spirit. And on good days, even though I wasn't altogether happy, I felt so independent, thinking, well, now I can do whatever I want, now I can buy clothes and shoes that I like, I can be---whew---just what I wanna be!

During the seven years they were touring (interspersed with time at home in Jamaica), Bob and Rita did have their arguments and fights, but they overall got along well and were still in love, so they solidified their relationship "as man and wife" again.

However, Rita still didn't feel individuated in the way she wanted to, so she signed with a record company named Hansa Music. Bob did not like this because he wanted to be the one to give Rita her big break; he wanted to keep the music in the family. He felt like white people (Hansa Music was a French company) were taking Rita away. But Rita and the record company were persistent, and he finally agreed to cooperate. Rita started working on her own individual music.

Bob had a political presence - people had come to think of him as "the voice of the people," and youth from the ghetto tended to look to him for help. People would come to Hope Road looking for favors and financial help, with which Bob was generous. But a lot of the people looking for help were mixed up with crime. He became anxious, even paranoid, as people sought help with matters that could endanger Bob and the family - people asking to stay at Hope Road to avoid gang violence, for example.

Eventually, the government asked Bob to do a peace concert called "Smile Jamaica" to encourage peace in the population before an election. Bob agreed, because he believed in peace.

Just after a rehearsal shortly before the concert, Bob and Rita were shot in an assassination attempt; Rita was shot in the head but the bullet didn't cause a fatal wound because of her thick dreadlocks, and Bob was grazed across the chest and shot in the elbow, where the bullet remained for the rest of his life.

Bob insisted on doing the concert anyway, with the bullet in his arm. Rita was up there with him, even though they hadn't been able to remove the bullet from her head yet, either.

After the assassination attempt, the shaken family spent some time in the Bahamas, in Nassau. Bob then went "into exile" in England, where he reconnected with one of his girlfriends. Rita and the children went back to Jamaica for school, but no longer felt safe in their Bull Bay home, so Bob bought a three-sister (three-family) house for them in Kingston. Rita and Bob continued to talk almost every day by telephone.

The political situation didn't lighten up - Bob's influence was being tracked in the United States, and this included intelligence agencies monitoring his mail - but he decided to return to Jamaica after about half a year because he missed his home. However, Bob returned to increased political activity, including more people asking for dangerous favors; again, gang members asked to stay in his home and wanted to act as his personal security.

Before what would be their last tour, Rita wanted to get a different house for the children. She and Bob disagreed on the house; Rita wanted a smaller but beautiful house on a hill overlooking Kingston, while Bob had plans to build a mansion he could settle into with all of his children and work on his music. Rita realized Bob was planning much more for himself and the children than for her, even though he also made a bunch of promises about being a better father, friend, and husband after this tour. He was planning to settle down. Rita told him that was nice, but still decided to put her advance from the tour toward the house on the hill.

During this next tour, Bob injured one of his big toes twice, first in 1975 - after which point it never fully healed because Bob would not give it a rest - and then again in 1977, after which the nail fell out and he developed malignant melanoma. He was advised to have the toe amputated. However, he refused, believing he couldn't perform without his big toe, that audiences wouldn't want to see that, and he was told the doctors were lying. He believed the doctors were lying.

They proceeded with the tour. Bob was extremely famous at this point, and Rita felt she was losing him; other people controlled all his time and influenced his every decision, and Bob felt obligated to keep up with all the demands, even at the expense of his own health. Eventually, Bob collapsed and was taken to the hospital, at which point he discovered his cancer had spread to his brain and he had only months to live. Because the diagnosis was terminal, Bob's managers were planning to keep him touring until he died, but Rita was outraged about this and called everyone she knew to insist on bringing the tour to a stop.

Bob did get cancer treatment, first in the US and then with a specialist in Germany. The German doctor, Dr. Josef Issels, managed to keep Bob alive six months longer than the other doctors believed was possible; however, he soon died very young, at the age of 36.

Rita was devastated. As they were both young, Bob's death was the first major loss Rita had experienced.

Moreover, Rita was immediately thrown into managing a ton of issues that had never been planned for. Rita was betrayed and taken advantage of by people who had been involved in managing Bob's finances, and she even ended up on trial because they accused her of misusing Bob's money after his death. However, everything Rita had used the estate's money for was legitimate. She acted according to the financial advice of his manager, and took care of the children, and paid for his funeral, and paid legal fees. Bob also simply was not as wealthy as people believed; his legacy has generated a lot of money over decades, indeed, but at the time of his death, he wasn't inordinately wealthy, or he wouldn't have felt so much pressure to do all that touring.

Summing up their relationship after Bob's death, Rita writes:

I thought Bob did the greatest thing by leading me to find myself. ... 'You are what you are, you are black and you are beautiful.' And I know there are many, many others who learned that same lesson from him.

Rita went on to carry Bob's legacy forward, keeping his music alive. In 2000, Time magazine awarded the "Song of the Century" title to Bob's song "One Love" and the "Album of the Century" title to Bob's album "Exodus." Bob's children now have musical careers, which Rita has nurtured.

Rita was able to set Aunty up, eventually, with everything she wanted, and Rita's father came home to spend time with his many grandchildren. Eventually they both passed away, and as keenly as she felt the losses, Rita was able to lean on her friends. Rita also had one more daughter named Serita with Tacky.

Over the past few decades, Rita has continued to pursue her dreams and live an incredibly active life. She has continued to promote Bob's music, but also moved to Ghana and started a nonprofit called The Rita Marley Foundation, caring for infants and the elderly. She has done a great deal of humanitarian work.

Worth noting that Rita structured this book so it ended with the same idea with which it started:

So I started to sing, as he told me to do, and just as he said it would be, everything was all right. Rastafari!

The Big Picture

The way I see it, a big part of No Woman No Cry is about identity and individual will. The concept of identity is in the ways we're defined by our connections, from intimate connections to large-scale social contexts, and in the ways we're defined by our own choices. It hit me with almost every chapter how strong Rita's individual will was while at the same time being interconnected and interdependent with so many other people in her life, and, of course, being shaped by her race and Jamaica's status as a colonized nation until 1962.

This book is also a study in the complexity of human connections - particularly, in how it is possible to meld hopes and dreams with another person's, and to unreservedly lean on other people, without losing one's sense of self. Rita and Bob chose to marry because they had mutual dreams; Rita chose to stay with Bob, though, because of the way she personally wanted to live. And she simultaneously pushed for her independence, which in the end was the thing that allowed her to do so much of her own humanitarian work and carry on Bob's legacy, too.

This pattern, wherein individual will and relationship connections mutually strengthened each other, carried out with all of Rita's close friends and loved ones. I'm thinking especially of Aunty - Rita and Aunty clashed a great deal in Rita's youth, and yet, each valued their family connection as much as their own individual will. They stuck together despite the friction; Aunty helped raise the children, and later, Rita was able to provide Aunty with a comfortable life. That in turn was possible only because of Rita's insistence on making her own choices while Aunty insisted on continuing to provide support.

Hand-in-hand with the concept of identity is memory. This is, after all, a memoir. Its very purpose is to solidify memories, to put them in the form of a book and to help other people understand Rita's life with Bob. When Rita explains her motivations in writing, she's giving her individual will, her choices, a material presence in the world. Although I don't believe Rita comments on this in the book, I'm imagining that the act of putting her memoir in writing helps solidify her power over the narrative of her life; by writing out our stories and the thoughts that inform them, we can illuminate the power our own choices have.

Another theme running strong throughout No Woman No Cry is faith. In high contrast to the themes of The Crow Road, Rita Marley's faith doesn't hold her back; it gives her strength and connects her to others. "Faith" for Rita means Rastafari. It helped her connect with her inherent worth as a black woman, and it helped her see her own success as part of a better world overall. Rita shores up her faith against the oppressive, authoritarian nature of colonialism. For Rita, faith isn't something that subdues her with dreams of another world; it's something that moves her to act in this one.

The book opens and closes with assurances that Rita should just keep moving forward (singing, in her case) and everything will be all right. That's also faith - the belief that she will succeed if she just presses forward, even if she's not sure how that can happen. Her spirituality allows her to tap into this, but it isn't specific to a particular belief system. It's just about being willing to believe, time and time again, that one foot in front of the other will ultimately lead somewhere good.

Altogether, I believe No Woman No Cry was on the Good Omens book club list because No Woman No Cry centers the depth of the human experience: the things that make us who we are, the ways we connect with other people, and how we can figure out where we belong.

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

Do you have to?

A Raymond Smith x plus size f!reader drabble

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: body image issues, fluffy, a tiny bit smutty at the end, dom/sub dynamics

Tag list: @captainpoopweinersoldier @brightlycoloredteacups @nessrove @flaireandsynch @innerpaperexpertcloud @rayslittlekitten @autumnleaves1991-blog @darkravenqueen98 @samanthaisnthome @waywardimpalawriter @dreamxcollide @t-r-i-s-h-a-w @misshoneybeee @kesskirata @green-socks @placeinthemiddleofnowhere @nosoul-noheart

Prompt from the 100 smut dialogue prompts: 66) “If you leave the house wearing that then the second you get back home I’m going to bend you over that bed.”

Also based on this ask ↓

“That’s what you’re wearing to the meeting?” You spin on your heel, facing Ray that’s just appeared in the bedroom doorway. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of him, and jaw working away as if fighting the urge to snap.

“Yes.” You reply, trying not to let the hurt show in your voice and face. His piercing eyes sweep the length of you.

“What’s wrong with it?” You ask. Deep lines appear on Ray’s forehead at your question. You don’t have to ask, not really. The top is too tight, doing nothing to hide the way your stomach pokes out, and the pants make you appear even wider. It’s warm outside though, the AC at the office isn’t fixed yet so if yesterday was any indication it will be like sitting in a sauna. Really, these are the most heatwave friendly clothes you own and to be honest they’re pushing the limits of what you’re comfortable wearing in public. You just didn’t think Ray would be so blatant in his distaste of your appearance. He still hasn’t answered so you sigh, let your shoulders slump and begin to head for the closet.

“Nevermind, I’ll change.” So you’ll get heatstroke and pass out, who cares? If the alternative is to embarrass both yourself and Raymond you suppose passing out is the lesser of two evils.

“Sweetheart.” Ray calls, voice authoritative in the way it only ever is when you’re playing your games together. Your body acts on instinct, stopping mid step to wait for an order. Ray closes the distance in a casual stride then lifts his arms to loosely wrap them around your shoulders. You squirm, try to look anywhere but at him. He’s not having it. With two fingers under your chin, Ray tilts your head back to meet his gaze.

“Allow me to clarify,” he says, voice much softer now “If you leave the house wearing that, then the second you get back home I’m going to bend you over that bed.” You blink. He’s not disgusted. In fact, if that is what you think it is pressing against your hip he’s the opposite of disgusted. As if hearing your thoughts, Ray rocks his hips forward and any remaining doubt is washed away at the feeling of his outline brushing up against you.

“Oh.” You croak. He slides his hands down your shoulders, squeezes your biceps.

“I love these arms,” Ray places a palm right at your belly button, rubbing back and forth “This stomach.” In spite of your resolve not to cry today, something you’d sternly told yourself after almost crying in front of the mirror, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Ray wipes them away without comment. He pops the button, unzips the pants, and lets his hands slip inside to palm at the soft flesh just below your panties. You let your head fall forward, resting it at his shoulder.

“These thighs.” He purrs as he massages closer and closer to the damp spot at your underwear and this time when you squirm it’s to get closer, not to escape. He dips a finger inside. Ray groans, deep and throaty, as moisture coats his digit.

“Do you really have to go to this meeting?” Every part of you is begging for you to say ‘no’, to go call in sick and let Ray continue demonstrating his appreciation of your body. God, you hate being responsible.

“Yes.” You answer with a sigh and he huffs but nods. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, cheeks burning with desire.

“Shame,” Ray retrieves his hands from between your thighs “Hurry back home.”

[charliehoennam]

please and thank you

A/N: @maydearalexa​ what 👏🏽 have 👏🏽 you 👏🏽 done 👏🏽 to 👏🏽 me! I had no choice but to rewatch The Gentlemen and I ca- you know what? Just read. I hope you can understand why I took my time with this one. This man, y’all...  If you liked my work, please show support by reblogging. Sharing is caring!

Warnings: 18 & over only!! | BDSM relationship; Master/servant relationship; bondage; impact play (ass and face); absolute filthy smut; creampie; cockwarming; oral sex (giving and receiving); male! dom.;  usage of restraints and erotic toys; language. this some rated R sh*t, read at your own risk. Not proofread, apologies for any mistakes.

Pairing: Raymond Smith x (mostly)gn!reader

Word count: 3,835

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG!

Looking down at your drawer, Ray swipes his hand over your throat as he towers over from behind you with a glass of whiskey in hand. You’re on your knees, in front of the dresser you and your husband keep fully stocked with lingerie, ropes, whips and restraints among other toys.  

“Let’s see which one you’ll wear for me tonight.”  

Your collection was quite diverse, especially when it came to your collars. Each style had different representations and set the course of your roleplaying displays. Ray had a strict rule of their use and always demanded you had one on. Not just because you looked adorable with them, but because it was more of a secret form of communication between you.  

The thickest ones were for your private trainings; strictly sexual purposes. You had to be mentally prepared for these because you knew he wouldn’t have much mercy on you when you had them on. Black and heavy, made with plush faux fur-lined leather; plain or with a ring that hung in the center to be attached to either a leash or tied to a post.

The fancy ones were for more social occasions and either made of entirely diamonds or simply encrusted with them in large letters with white leather. They were meant for public use: to show that everyone at the fancy restaurant on your dates or at the nightclubs and parties with your friends that you had a Master to go home to so you wouldn’t get too wild if he wasn’t around. Whether or not they knew it wasn’t just a necklace didn’t really matter. Ray was the only one who needed to see it on you. They were your protection collars.

Then you had your play collars and they, unlike the others, had different colors express your emotions and how you needed to be treated. They were intended to show him you wanted some sort of affection. Pink meant playful and happy. He usually put these on you in daddy mode, when he wanted you to be his good little angel. The red ones are for mischief; they warned him you were seeking spankings and rough punishments. The blue ones were the opposites. They showed him you weren’t feeling too good and needed special care from your Master.

He takes the last swig of his drink and sets the glass on top of the dresser. The ice clanks around the glass and there’s a lot more than he usually adds to his drinks, so you know there’s a reason for that.  

“I think you need some training tonight.” He says as he adjusts his glass before reaching down for one of the thick black collars with a hanging ring in the center.

“You need to be punished for that little trick at the supermarket. You thought that was funny, huh? Flashing that ass and those tits at me in the freezer aisle?”

You knew you would be punished, but it was worth it for the smirk and chuckle you pulled out of him. No one was around and you were just trying to make him smile after having a bad day, but the guy works as head of security. He knows better than anyone the surveillance cameras definitely picked it up and he’d bet the guys watching it were probably wanking off to the video of you lifting your skirt up and pulling your top down, exposing your chest completely to leave imprints of your private areas on the foggy glass doors.

“Yes, Sir. I thought it was funny enough to make you laugh. Which you did.”  

You smirk smugly thinking he won’t notice since he’s buckling the collar on the back of your neck until he lowers himself down to meet you at eye level.  

“Little one... I’m going to wipe that little smile right off your dirty mouth.”  

His gentle knuckle grazing your cheek and his innocent smile are in contrast to what you know he’s already got in store for you.  

“Come.”  

As he stands on his feet, you press your palms against the floor of your bedroom. He makes his way over to the bed and you follow beside him on all fours like the obedient little kitten you are. He pats the white duvet for you to climb up on and sink into the fluffy material, but you notice he remains on his feet by the bed. You know he means business when he’s rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. Just the sight of it ignites the anticipation and burns straight down to your sex.

“On your knees.”

You watch him as you stand on your knees. You don’t have the courage to challenge him by looking up, even though you can feel his eyes staring down at you. He attaches a silver chain to the ring of your collar and lets it hang down to your knees.  

“Turn. Face down, ass up.”

Face pressed against the covers of the bed, you arch your back. You already know the drill. He doesn’t have to tell you where you need to keep your hands. A cold metal bar is set behind your knees. He attaches the chain to the bar, pulling your neck down into a fetal position; your hands reach down to your knees and are cuffed right beside them, into the fur-lined restraints on the bar. You’re immobile and on naked display for him.  

“Usually, I would have you count. But you don’t get to count today. Today, you will endure, little one,” he states calmly sliding a dildo gag into your mouth. He buckles the strap at the back of your head and leans down to continue whispering in your ear. “And you will not make a single sound. You see, you need to be reminded your mouth is my mouth. Your ass is my ass. Your tits are my tits. Your body is mine, I own it. I control it and you cannot go around flaunting it to strangers. You must be punished for that. Don’t you agree with me?”

You obviously nod eagerly, gazing up at him. You wanted this punishment so badly and you’re already sucking on the dildo strapped into your mouth, imagining it was his and praying he’ll fuck your throat until he cums.  

He warms you up thoughtfully with his hands, massaging and kneading your flesh like dough. He’s gentle enough to keep that sensation going to soothe you in between each open-handed spank, gradually adding a little more pressure with each hit. Then came the leather paddle. Lastly, the rubber flogger. Master was kind enough to add less pressure towards the end after you signaled him and warned it was becoming too much.  

“Shall I stop?” You shake your head.  

“Can you handle a little more if I go lighter?” You nod with tears stringing down from your eyes.  

You wanted to make him proud, exceeding your limits with every punishment. But it’s not long until you’re repeatedly tapping the bar to beg him to stop.  

“You look so beautiful.”

He chuckles gently placing kisses over the bright red stinging flesh; you adore the way he’s careful not to rub his beard against the hot sensitive area. You hear the glass of clinking ice and moan in relief at the cool sensation of the ice over your skin. Master is always so thoughtful.  

“You did very well during the first part of punishment, little angel. I’m very proud of you. That was more than usual. I might just let you cum later on.”  

He carefully spills the cold ice water over your ass, taking care of his kitten so nicely.  

“Is that better, love?” You nod.

“Shall we pause?” He grins at you proudly and you nod again.  

He releases you from your restraints and removes the gag. Once you’re propped up on your elbow, he kneels in front of you to tenderly clean your tears drool with his handkerchief.  

“Talk to me, y/n. How are you doing?”  

“I can handle more, Sir.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you remember our safe word?”

“Yes, Sir. The safe word is pepper spray.”  

“That’s right. And what do you say when Master punishes you?”

“Thank you very much, Sir.”

“Good, little one. You make me so proud.” He nods with a smile and kisses your forehead.

Ray leaves only to return with a bottle of chilled water for you. After a couple gulps, you nod at him to let him know you’re ready to continue.  

The second he tosses a pillow on the floor, you instinctively know he wants you on your knees but good kittens wait until they’re ordered.  

He’s squatting down behind you to secure the black leather restraints around your ankles. Carefully rotating your collar, he adds a chain to the ring and, gently pulling your wrists back, he attached the cuffs around them to make sure your hands stay behind you. You don’t get the luxury of touching him just yet. He reminded you your ass belongs to him and now it’s time to show your mouth who’s boss. With both your wrists and your neck chained to your ankles, you have no choice but to wait while he walks around to face you.

“You were saying some awfully dirty things at the supermarket. Do you remember?”

You nod biting your lower lip; your skin rises to goosebumps when you feel his breath on your cheek and his warmth radiating against you. His subtle scent of cologne fills your nostrils as he caresses your cheek.  

“Yes, Sir. I remember. I know I deserve this.”  

“You should know better than to tease me in places I can’t punish you.”

“Yes, Master. You’re right. I was wrong.”

“Good, little one. Now, look up. Eyes on me.”  

You nod licking your lips as you watch him unbutton his waistcoat to toss it aside. He towers over your in his white shirt and black tie. Oh, how you wish you could tug on it to pull him down and crash his lips against yours. You gulp hard when he starts unbuckling his belt; the anticipation makes your throat tingle with hunger. His hand digs into his dark-wash jeans to stroke himself.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

He knows you’re craving his cock so desperately just by the way you stare at his groin, almost gasping anxiously to see his sex but he doesn’t let you just yet. Master is always in control.  

“You think I’m just gonna let you have it? Oh, no, little one. Not just yet.”  

You’re thinking what the fuck is he going to do. How else will he torture you? He could think of a thousand ways to do that and enjoy every single one of them. However, he knows the one you dread the most.  

“My, oh, my. Look at how wet you are, kitten. I think i know just how to get this pussy drooling.”  

He smirks fingering your hole to make you feel the mess you’re making.  

“Whose pussy is this again?”

“Yours, Sir.”  

“Are you going to flash my pussy out in public again?”

“N-no, Master.”

You shudder because his fucking thumb is pressured against your clit and he’s got two long fingers in your hole, checking how ready you are. You shut your fingers tightly, fighting the urge to move your hips but you know the rules. No friction for you naughty little thing.

“You’re all ready for the next step. If you do a good job, little one, I’ll let you come after this.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you very much”

He smirks devilishly as he pulls his fingers out and stands to walk over to the dresser. The Chasity belt is one of his personal favorites. It’s pair of leather panties that buckles around your hips. A large black dildo sits in the bottom of said panties to be inserted as you wear them. He controls it with a small remote; it allows the silicone member to spin and vibrate inside you and leak you of every drop.

Placing the belt between your thighs and a tight hand under your chin, he uses the dildo to tease your entrance just before sliding it into your wetness painstakingly slow. His fingertips dig into your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. His breathing is calm; his smile is menacingly wide. A moan quiet moan escaping from you makes him and pull the dildo out and in, in and out. You can already hear the sloppy squelching of your sex entrenching the room and overtaking the silence.  

Once the belt is strapped on and the dildo is snuggly stretching you apart, Ray stands once more in front of you. Only this time, he finally has his wonderfully thick cock out twitching in his hands as it continues hardening.  

He turns on the motorized panties and you take deep breaths, forcing yourself to keep control as the dildo spins and vibrates inside you. This is only a thoughtful treat he’s allowing you for taking your spanking and whipping so well. You cannot cum without his permission. May God forgive you if you do because Raymond will make you pay.

Master can see your eyes light up. He wonders if it’s at his cock or the sensation of the panties. Whatever it is, he’s happy to see you stay so calm and collected waiting to pleasure him first. He smirks as he holds his tip to your mouth and you waste no time hesitating. You quickly get to work and start licking at the sensitive area. You need to keep your eyes on him.  

Your head bobs up and down deliciously on his length. You suck at his saltiness, hollowing your cheeks as he holds your hair back away from your face.  Lost in the delightful taste of his heavy limb in your mouth, you make the mistake of closing your eyes to savor his taste. He growls and pulls your hair back to rip your mouth away from him and squats down.  

“The fuck are you doing huh?”  

He asks furrowing his brows. A slap lands on your cheek; hard enough to sting pleasantly and redden your skin, not hard enough to bruise.  

“What did I fucking tell you?”

“K-Keep my eyes open.”

Another stinging slap. He hates having to slap you almost as much as he hates stopping mid-blowjob to correct you.  

“Are you going to fucking behave?”

“Yes, Sir. Forgive me.” You nod.

He stands again and lets you get back to his cock. Your eyes are glued to him as you suck more and more of him until he starts hitting the back of your throat, groaning at the warmth wetness of it. It’s a struggle to follow his rule when you’re gagging on his heavenly dick, but that’s why you need him to correct you; to make you the perfect little angel from his desires.

He’s down instantly and slapping you a bit harder now.  

“Are you deaf, little one? Do you need another fucking spanking?”

“No, Master!” Another set of slaps meets your other cheek.

“Shall I fucking glue your eyes open? I want them on me when I cum into your pretty little throat!”

“Y-Yes sir!”

“Only good little angels get their fucking treat. Do you want yours huh? Do you want Master to make you cum?”

“Then you need to wait and make me cum first. If you even think about cuming before me, you will spend days without any release. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal clear, Master!” You nod moaning softly as he intensifies the vibrations of the dildo. It’s purely to torture you for misbehaving, making it even harder to follow his command and not cum yet.

He’s growling almost like a wild animal as he savagely fucks your mouth. He’s relentless and his grip on your hair is unyielding. It hurts, but the pleasure rising between your thigh mixes with the pain enough to drive you insane. The restraints tighten as you struggle against them, desperate to hold his thighs and push his hips back for a bit of relief. But when Raymond gives you the orders, you must execute them flawlessly.  

Holding your head all down on his cock, you can feel the drool dripping around your mouth and dribbling down your chin and neck. You’re praying he finishes cumming down your raw sore throat soon so you wiggle your tongue flush against his balls to milk every single drop of his load. With your eyes on him, you watch him unravelling at the touch of your tongue. He’s never looked more beautiful. A sense of pride encompasses you knowing how wonderful you make him feel. You know you did a good job when he’s a mumbling mess of trembling knees.  

“Fuck, litte one...” He pants pulling your head off his cock.  

“Open your mouth, stick your tongue. Let Master see if you deserve to cum.”

You can’t help but giggle at his little rhyme, tongue proudly stuck out to show him you listened and obeyed his demands.  

“Very well done, little one.” He lowers himself down to wipe the stream of tears from your cheeks with gentle swipes of his thumbs. The grin on his face proves he’s more than content with your blowjob.  

“I think you deserves a little treat after all.”

He places a kiss on your forehead just before moving behind to finally release your limbs and unstrap the torturous device from between your legs. You stay in your position, knelt on the pillow until he orders you otherwise.  

“To the chair now, little one.”  

You obey and crawl towards the cozy armchair, sitting with your posture straight as you anxiously await to see what your treat will be. It doesn’t take him long to walk back to you from the dresser with a black leather harness and more restraints in one hand and a white vibrating wand in the other.  

Ray orders you to lift your arms, sliding them through the straps and securing the harness onto your chest.  

“Lie on your back now, little one. Get those legs up.”  

With the thigh restraints above your knees attached to the harness, your legs are stuck spread open. Such a vulgar exposure of yourself makes you feel a little embarrassed – you feel the blush growing as your eyes shoot around the room shyly – and Raymond picks up on it.

“Don’t you worry. You look beautiful just like this. You’ll look ever more beautiful when you’re begging me to stop.”  

The mischievous grin doesn’t drop as he peppers the inside of your thigh with gentle kisses that slowly inch towards where you need him the most. His palms on your ass are gentle as they remember how sore you still are from the spanking. He pulls his lips off of you when he’s dangerously closer to your wetness though.  

“Hands above your head, little one.”

You hold your loose fists up, knowing he’ll cuff them in the furry restraints at the back of the chair to keep your hands up and above your head the whole time.  

He hasn’t even touched you with anything else but the wand and you’re already working towards your third orgasm. The vibrations of the wand he’s holding your most sensitive area make you wriggle wildly that you almost believe the restraint won’t be strong enough to contain you. Raymond laughs as he watches you, enjoying every second of it.

“Hold it in, little one. Don’t you dare cum just yet.”

It’s torture to force you to fight against your desires when he’s pressing the wand against your sex, overstimulating it until you’re a panting mess of sweat, tears and desperate pleas. His tongue probes your hole, lapping up your juices and the feeling of his prickly beard right in that fucking area has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You’re shaking underneath him; feet kicking into the air. You want him to stop so you can fucking breathe at last, but you need him to continue because you’re...s-so...close to the edge.

“Please, Master! I can’t hold it back m-much longer! P-please!”  

You’re mortified at how hopelessly distraught you sound, sobbing and sniffling as you beg louder for your release. That’s when you feel it. The answer to your prayers.  

You suddenly feel him pushing his cock into your drenched hole as he stands on his knees, smirking to himself as he watches the sight of your slickness stick and string against his groin.  

“I said not yet, little one. You cum when I fucking tell you to!”

He laughs as you frantically try to buck your hips into his. His ruthless hips pound into you, drilling his cock so delightfully deep; his ball slap against your already sore ass, heightening the pleasure along with the pain. You’re almost sure the neighbors can hear everything; you pathetically moaning and whimpering; him groaning and grunting louder with every thrust; your hips smacking sweaty skin against skin. It’s all so much!

He hisses through clenched teeth and grips the back of your head and carefully pushes it downward, forcing you to watch his cock penetrated you violently.  

“Look at that fucking cunt! This cunt belongs to me! See?! You see how I can fuck this cunt senseless???”

You nodded whimpering and gasping, trying to get whatever air in your lungs before he pounds it out of you.  

“You like it when Master fucks you like this? Huh?!”

“I-I fucking love it, s-sir! Th-thank you so much!”

“This is my fucking cunt and I want it to cum right now.”

His order comes at a growl in your ear which you couldn’t be more thankful to hear. You cum almost instantly, letting yourself finally go and giving in to the mind-numbing wave of pleasure that viciously bursts through you. The tightness of your soaking wet hug around his cock brutally coaxes him to spill his cum inside your warmth, coating you within.

Knowing how much he loves to paint his cum over your sex with his cock as the brush, you expect it since you can feel little beads of it dribbling out from your hole. In much surprise to you, you feel his hand under your chin again as it tilts your head up at him. His lips greedily mold against yours in a sloppy wet kiss as he keeps his cock snug in you, slowly pushing it in deeper to make sure his load stays exactly where he wants it to.

“You did very well, little one. Did you enjoy your punishment and your treat?”

“Yes, Master. T-thank you so much for giving me your cum.” You mumble breathlessly.

“Would you like to stop?”

“No, Sir. I’d like to be filled up even more.”

“Good, little one.” He smirks placing a gentle kiss on your lip. “You make me so proud.”

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

*clears throat*

What can I say about Raymond Smith? He’s smart, articulate, dangerous (in a sexy way). I’d want him to wine and dine me with an expensive dinner and then take me home and torture me with his cock in one hole and a toy in another…if you catch my drift.

Thank you for submitting an ask, love! I hope you enjoy! And May your thirst be quenched. 😚

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ for explicit smut, toy, overstimulation, bondage, cum, and language. This is THIRSTY, you have been warned.

“I don’t remember the last time I ate such an incredible meal,” you place your hand in Rays and move up the porch steps, “thank you baby.” He leans towards you for a kiss and you oblige, running your hands through his hair, mucking it up a bit.

He holds your wrist, “naughty little thing,” he chastises playfully, “you better listen or I may have to punish you.”

You keep his eyes, pulling one wrist from his grasp and putting a hand on top of his head, pushing his hair back and forth. His eyes narrow, “you asked for it, darling.”

Twenty minutes later your wrists are tied with silk ribbons to the posts of the bed, facedown on the bed with your pretty little ass in the air. The snap of the flogger against you leaves a painful bite and you moan into the pillow, panting and letting out a whimpered, “ten.”

Between your thighs is a slippery mess, and a warm hand slips between them with a groan, “this cunt is so fucking wet. She’s dripping for me.” He cups his fingers, dipping two inside you and grinning when you moan as he pounds his fingers inside you. The slapping sound of your slick booming in the silence of the bedroom.

He stops suddenly and you tremble, arching your back towards his hand. The sharp sting of his hand on your ass gives you pause and you can hear the scarification in his voice when he says, “that’s a good fucking girl.” He gathers the slick on his fingers and you tighten up when he runs it over your asshole.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” He taunts, before getting off the bed and rummaging through the bedside drawer, and quickly returning.

“What?” you ask breathless and he lets you have another sharp slap on the ass. “What, sir?” you quickly correct.

“I’m going to fuck your pretty little ass with my cock, and this,” he holds the rabbit before your face, “this is gonna fuck that pretty little pussy.”

You moan when he turns on the switch and you see it move back and forth wildly, hearing it vibrate. “Please sir,” you beg and he chuckles darkly.

“Please what?” he grabs the bottle of lube of the table and lathers his cock. “I need to hear you say it.

“Please,” the saliva pools in your mouth, so turned on you can barely speak, “please fuck my ass and pussy.”

He puts on hand on your neck, turning you to face him as he leans down and kisses you, biting down on your lip and sucking it out before letting go, “with pleasure.

The strap around your waist is course and rough and he ties it tightly, sliding the rabbit inside and making sure the other end is nestled perfectly on your clit. It’s off for the moment but you groan into the pillow with how it feels buried deep inside you.

“You ready?” he puts his cock against your ass, rubbing it up and down between your cheeks. You nod, “I need to hear you,” he orders, “tell me.”

“Fuck me, sir,” you mumble out breathlessly when he pushes inside you. “Fuck,” you groan, and he breathes heavy as he works himself inside your tight hole. When he’s flush against your ass you drop your head, arms shaking against the restraints.

“Color?” he commands and you whimper out green under your breath. “That’s a good girl,” he strikes your ass, “now, fuck yourself.”

Ray keeps deadly still, watching his cock be swallowed by your ass with each thrust back of your hips. It’s only after the fifth thrust when the vibrating starts, slow at first but then growing in intensity. Then it starts moving, “shit,” you gasp moving forward allowing him to slip out.

“Oh no you don’t,” he grabs your hips, pulling you back and pounding into you. The headboard smacks against the wall, the rabbit moving faster and vibrating harder as he picks up speed.

The feeling is indescribable, the warmth growing deep in your belly and when he presses your back down into the mattress and fucks you hard using his other hand to push the rabbit onto your clit you scream. It’s guttural and comes from somewhere deep inside you. Ray shouts your name but it sounds foggy like you’re underwater, the vibrating moves down to a light tremble and your body goes slack.

“Color,” he groans, stilling inside you, his cock pulsing and oh so fucking hard.

You weakly mumble out, “green,” and the vibrating starts to hum louder and louder. Your body nothing more than a rag doll for his pleasure and he leans so far over you he’s got your hips almost flattened to the mattress.

“I want to cum inside you,” he’s breathless, panting hard in your ear. “And you’re gonna cum with me,” he turns up the intensity on the rabbit and you cry out, your hips moving to buck h off but it only buries him deeper inside you. The toy snapping back and forth only held in place by the strap and you drop your head back on a silent scream and he quickly unties you, pulling you up against his chest, your head over his shoulder as he fucks up into you, his other hand holding the toy inside as he sucks on your neck, his teeth biting down on the sensitive skin on your neck. His cum is hot and thick and he groans your name as he licks at your neck, unstrapping the toy and throwing it to the side, it still wiggling madly on the mattress, soaked with your cum.

“Fuck,” he drops his head, gently lowering you to the bed. And he uses the remote to turn the toy off. He helps you to your back and looks down, taking in the mess between your legs. His eyes blinking several times behind the frames.

“What,” you pant, “what are you thinking?”

He smirks, pushing up his glasses with a knuckle, his fingertips glistening. Your eyes widen when he pushes his broad shoulders between your thighs, his hands spreading you for his eyes to feast. “No reason to dirty another towel when my tongue works just fine.” He licks his lips before diving in.

“How thoughtful,” you moan, leaning back, eyes on him grinning, “so very fucking thoughtful.”

[reveluving]

masterlist ; reve's quirky reverie (fall '24 special!)

“ say, say, say, now, are you ready? ,,

about :

— reve’s quirky reverie returns with bits of winter specials, a collection of the sweet and salacious, the enchanting and just a little bit deranged 🕷

— randomly uploaded between oct & dec! — ❄️*winter specials

pick your poison :

takeshi kovacs x f!reader

(🕷) – isekai au; major fluff ft. lovesick takeshi! [main]

phillip graves x f!reader x jeff sadecki

(🕷) – major fluff; they're sickeningly in love with you, lots of sweet treats & brother bantering! [main]

oj haywood x f!reader

(🕷) – blood (not yours) & smut! [main]

paddy feld x f!reader x max (the resident)

(🕷) - blood (not yours), sweet revenge & smut!

raymond smith x f!reader (bonus!)

(❄️) ‐lovestruck ray, major fluff!

benny miller x f!reader

(❄️) – tooth-rotting fluff! [main]

??? x f!reader

(?) – soon.

this! masterlist is for 18+ only.

disclaimer! as someone who has never experienced fall/snowy winter nor celebrated Halloween/Christmas, I heavily rely on research in my writing (i.e. shows/movies, books). still, I hope you can enjoy my work!

˚ · . missed out on the last one? come & check it out here, or explore the wonders of my blog via the full m.list!

[puffins-muffins]

Masterlist

My small (but growing) masterlist! I write reader-insert fics for Charlie Hunnam Babes! All story warnings are listed in the links and are all 18+. Enjoy lovers!! ♡

Jax Teller

Control (series - in progress // Jax Teller AU x F!Lawyer Reader)

The Beginning The Reunion The Attraction The Tug-of-War

Bartender (Jax Teller x F!Reader)

What Lovers Do (Jax Teller x F!Plus Size Reader) 🥵 Night & Morning (Jax Teller x F!Plus Size Reader) 🥵

Sanctified (Jax Teller x F!Reader)

Birthday Girl (Jax Teller x F!Reader) 🥵

Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller

In Love on Christmas (Will Miller x F!Reader)

Raymond Smith

Disruption (Raymond Smith x F!Reader) 🥵

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

Fit

A Raymond Smith x f!reader drabble

Explicit, 18+ (go away, minors. This is not for you)

Prompt from the 100 smut dialogue prompts: You take my fingers so well don’t you?

Tagging: @captainpoopweinersoldier @brightlycoloredteacups @nessrove @flaireandsynch @innerpaperexpertcloud @rayslittlekitten @autumnleaves1991-blog @darkravenqueen98 @samanthaisnthome @waywardimpalawriter @dreamxcollide @t-r-i-s-h-a-w @misshoneybeee @kesskirata @green-socks

Warnings: smut, big dick Ray, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones kind of

How the hell is that supposed to fit inside you? Ray, ever so perceptive, notices the way you blanch as he pulls his cock free from the briefs.

“What?” He asks, that familiar frown appearing at his brow. You gesture vaguely with one hand, eyes still locked at his crotch.

“Uh, i-it’s just-” you wet your lips “-uh, big.” Your tone goes up at the end like you’re asking a question not stating a fact. You swallow thickly. A very big fact. Ray pauses, mid-undressing, and closes the distance between you. You lean in to run your fingers down his chest.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes, kneading your ass “We’ll start with my fingers. Okay?” Christ. Is it bad that you hope he’ll use his pinky finger, ring still on it, to get you warmed up? Instinctively, you push your behind into his hands to meet them.

“Okay.” You agree. Stepping back again, Ray pulls the pants down his legs and drapes them over the chair. Completely naked before you, he closes in and sets to peeling layer after layer from you. He likes it this way, he told you, feeling like he gets to unwrap a present. Once you’re bare, he runs the tip of his index finger along your folds.

“Okay.” You say again before you can stop yourself. Ray chuckles but he doesn’t slow, grabbing at your waist and nudging you backwards toward the bed. You let yourself sink onto the pillows and he follows. He doesn’t start with his pinky but once he’s worked you open with his index and middle finger he asks you about it.

“Think you can take this?” He holds it up for you to see, ring glistening almost menacingly in the limited light. You nod. It’s obviously not as long and thick as his other fingers but with the way the piece of jewelry bumps against your opening it still feels a lot.

“You take my fingers so well, don’t you?” He praises, over the obscene squelching of his digit driving into you.

“Can take more.” You reply, hips grinding down to meet him. Hearing your answer, Ray withdraws the hand from between your legs and hauls himself further up to plant a bristly kiss at your lips.

“Of course you can, sweetheart.” He murmurs. One hand comes up to pet your cheek and the other you feel reaching in between your legs as he aligns himself with your opening. Sinking in bit by bit, Ray watches you raptly for any sign of discomfort. It is a stretch, but not a painful one, and finally he’s there.

“See?” He says, giving a tentative thrust to test your reaction “Told you it wouldn’t be an issue.”

[misguidedasgardian]

Jealous Lloyd Hansen X Reader ?

Uffff, I'm going to write this as a continuation

AU MASTERLIST

Summary: A single conversation with another man drives Lloyd insane 

Warnings: DARK, misogynistic behavior, mob business, age gap (Lloyds is late thirties, reader is mid-twenties), dub-con, little fingering, degradation, mocking, cursing, pet names, breeding kink,oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, teasing, overstimulation, involuntary permanent marking (surprise), might miss some warnings. 

+18 MINORS DNI

You were gorgeous, Lloyd had no doubts about that, that was what made it so easy to marry you, it wasn't just the inheritance, it was you, your killer personality, your hot body, your eyes, the tip of your nose, your delicious mouth, all of it, he loved it all. He was the luckiest son of a bitch to walk the earth.

So when he saw you speaking to Raymond Smith on a party made by an englishman named Mickey Pearson for a new deal between the countries, he saw fucking red. He was speaking closely to your ear, apparently something funny because you were giggling and smiling dumbly. Lloyd didn’t know it affected him more than that you were reciprocating the flirtation, or… that you didn’t giggle like that with HIM.

Let's be fair he didn’t make you giggle or laugh, but he saw your body language while talking to that man and you were relaxed, at ease, your shoulders danced with your laugh and you drew a relaxed smile as it looked like you were hearing the most interesting story. You weren’t like that with him… at first you were like a scared little kitten, always in guard of him, trembling in his hands and shy, flinching everytime he moved next to you… and lately you’d had been uncaring, like the minimum traces of instincts had left your body and you were giving up, like he could do whatever he wanted to you. He didn’t like that either

He walked with determination to where you stood right next to that man. He could feel his own throat tightening, almost growling like an angry wolf as he saw more clearly the closeness you held with that pompous bastard

“Hey, Smith” he greeted almost like an insult, reaching the both of you and linking one of his thick arms around your waist, gluing you to him. You stomped clumsily due to his harshness, but stayed taped by his side.

“Mr Hansen, a pleasure” he said strongly, offering his hand, which Lloyd took

“I’m glad my beautiful wife is keeping you company” he answered back

“She is a most lovely companion” he answered, smiling at you, which made Lloyd tighten his grip so hard you whimpered

“Tell your boss that thank you for the invitation and I’m looking forward to do business with him, in a more private environment” Raymond got the hidden message and he only nodded, taking a step back and bowing his head 

“Of course” he said, “I’ll talk to my boss and we will arrange a meeting, we are in america for the next few weeks, he is looking forwards to do business with you as well”

“Good” and just like that Lloyd was pulling you out of the party. And before you knew it, he almost threw you inside of the awaiting car 

You grunted but said nothing, you knew that was only going to make him angrier. But you were also so enraged by him, who did he think he was? you were actually having a good time and a good conversation with a man and he had to pull you away just like that

You just had enough

“I think we should get a divorce” you whispered, somehow hoping that he didn’t hear you, but he did, oh he did

“Sorry?” he had heard you, he was just seeing if you had the metaphorical balls to repeat it

“We should get a divorce” your voice sounded strangled, but more assertive. He had to chuckle to prevent himself for screaming

“And why would we do that?” he asked than his hand that rested in the back of the seat was dangerously close to your neck

“I think we deserve to be happy” you whispered, “we don’t make eachother happy”

“Till’ death do us apart wifey” he grunted while he grabbed the back of your neck and placed your head next to his, his blue eyes burning with rage, “I intend to keep that promise” You trembled and close your eyes in fear, scared to think what he was going to do to you, was he going to make you suck him off in front of Ari? or just fuck you? Or perhaps he was really going to fulfill his promise, and kill you rather than divorce you

The first weeks after you were “married” you would curl up to him after he fucked you roughly into the matress, you would lay your head on his chest and cuddle up to him like a kitten, or at night you would come to him in search of his body heat, but now after he’d had his way with you would turn your back to him and hug your pillow instead, and he pretended he didn’t heard those little cries of yours when you thought he was sleeping

He was indifferent before, but now, seeing you talk and laugh with someone else, noticing how small you had become next to him, he didn’t like it. He was the one who should be making you laugh, he should be the one that you cuddle up at night. No the other you wanted, there sure was a reason why you wanted a divorce. Did you realize you could be happy with someone else?

But as soon as you flinched, closing your eyes in fear, he released you softly, sighing loudly

“I don’t want you to say that word again” he said more softly, “I’m not divorcing you, in fact, if you are not pregnant by the end of the month, I’m taking you to a specialist, you hear me?” he finally looked at you, and you looked him back

“Yes” you whispered, you knew he liked his answers. He caressed the skin on the back of your neck with his fingers, “I’m sorry” you whispered, sniffing, but he was relieved there were no tears in your eyes. 

“You liked that guy so much you were picturing a future for the two of you?” he asked bitterly

“No” you whispered, “This is nothing like that” you cried, scared of seeing him angry at you, “I swear”

“So what is it?” he asked

“Why would you want to keep being married to me?” you asked, “You already have everything you wanted, you don’t even like me” you accused

“Why would you say that?” he demanded

“when you are not fucking me, or wanting for it, you look at me like I’m the most idiotic thing on the whole world” you cried, “you seem to hate me”

“That’s not true” 

“It is!” you were getting angry as well, “Right after you fuck me you drop me aside like I’m nothing, a soiled rag you just used and now it digusts you” a single tear fell down your cheek, “You never hug me, or hold me, or kiss me, no when we are not fucking anyways” he looked back at you surprised, and you seemed to see a little bit of shame, “So if I picture myself finding someone that holds me, and smiles at me and makes me laugh with silly jokes, or cares for me, yes, I deserve that, I deserve someone that treats me like a human being and not a means to something else” after your speech you scootched ove to the door and curled against it, not wanting to see him, or her him or touch him 

But he had other plans

With a tired sigh, like you had bored him, he turned towards you and grabbed you, taking you by your thighs and shoulders. You struggled, but with the dress you were wearing you didn’t quite had much of movement

He held you against his chest

“There is not going to be anyone else for you other than me” he grunted, “You hear me?” you whined on his hold, but he didn’t release you, having a tight iron grip on your body, “You are mine, no one else's”

He left you alone for the rest of the night and even the next morning, until lunch, when Lloyd send for you to meet him in his office

You found him looking out the window, with his back turned to you 

“What is it?” you asked simply, he turned slowly

“I want you to do what I say, exactly as I say it” he said simply, and you raised a eyebrow

“Sorry?”

“You fucking heard me” the raise on his voice made you tremble, so you just nodded, looking down at the floor in front of you, knowing it will be worst fo you if you didn’t obey him, “Are you going to obey?”

“Yes” you answered quickly

“Yes, what?”

“Yes husband” 

“Good girl, now walk towards me.” He sat on his chair but you did exactly as he said, and walked until you had him in front of you, “Are you going to obey anyone else?” you shook your head, “Words”

“No Husband”

“You are mine”

“Only yours” you responded

“I thought I was clear the very first time I had you, and I’m running out of ideas of how to make you understand” you closed your eyes strongly, now you’ve done it, you pissed him off, “Sit on the desk right there” you did as he asked seating right in front of him, you're wearing a simple skirt, as he had requested weeks ago, no underwear. “Open up for me” you spread your legs to show him your pussy, wet pussy you might add

“Lloyd”

“Shut it, I don't want to hear it” with one single finger he teased your entrance, making you moan softly in need, you might despise him a little, but nobody has fucked you like he has, “Now stay still” he grabbed yout thighs an spread you open even more, uncomfortably so, he pushed his chair closer to you, as he prepared to devour you as if you were a feast.

He wasted no time in sinking in your core, lapping a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you squirm, he chuckled against your slippery folds, wasting no time in dipping his tongue inside your thigh walls

“You are so sweet” he purred, releasing you for just a second, “And you just want to take this pussy away from me, you are so fucking mean” he sucked on your sensitve pearl making you moan shamelesly. You were starting to lose yourself to his touch and tongue. He lapped and sucked your clit, making wet noises that would make a sex worker blush. He drew pleasure sounds from your mouth you didn’t even know you could make, without relent, changing between sucking on your clit and fucking your entrance with his tongue. 

But when he realized you weren’t panting and begging yet, he sunk one of his fingers inside of you. You twisted and turned on top of the desk. He chuckled agaisnt your sex when he found that spongy spot inside of you

“I’m going to make you cum so many times you are going to forget any other name that isn’t mine” he saw your juices dripping down his fingers to his hand and wrist, and smiled wickedly as you grabbed your own legs to have something to hold on to. Your throat started to sound raspy because of all the moans he was drawing from you. YOur felt that all too familiar knot tighten inside of your belly, declaring your impending orgasm

“Are you going to cum?” he asked

“Yes”

“Do you think you deserve it?” he asked then

“Yes please Lloyd, please” you begged, twisting your hips on his hand to get more friction, and he let you, rub yourself on his hand, “I'll be good, I’ll do anything please, let me cum”

“That’s it baby” he introduced another finger, content with your begging, he twisted his fingers inside of you and that’s all you needed to cum on his fingers. He helps you ride your orgasm with lazy movements. 

And when he realized you were riding down your high, he moved his fingers even faster cruel and rough inside of you, milking your juices and everything you had to give

“Lloyd, please!” you begged for him to stop but he only leaned in and dove in your clit against, with man intentions he sucked on your pearly flesh, his fingers fucking you roughly until you cummed again, back to back with a high cry on your lips

“I want more” his shirt got wet with your own juices, but he didn’t care, he wanted more, he wanted a fucking shower

“Lloyd please, no more… ARGH'', you interrupted yourself with a gurgle, when he cruelly rubbed his mustache on your sensitive clit, “Shit”

“Language darling” he teased, paying attention to his fingers and the squelching sound he was making in your soaked pussy, “Only two and look at you” you must have looked fucked out, your hairline shined and your entire body was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and the unmistakable smell of sex drenched the office, but it wasn’t enough

“I haven’t even got my cock out yet, and look at this mess” there was a pool under you in the desk, and Lloyd found himself wanting it to stain, so he could have a constant reminder of how delicious you were 

“Lloyd please I’ve learned my lesson” you cried

“Not enough” he released you completely, to look at his masterpiece your pussy looked puffy and glistening with juiced, so delicious, he thought, “I don't know what you did to me baby” he chuckled, “I’m addicted to this pussy” he get even more comfortable and he grabbed your thighs to pull you to him. He flattened his tongue and placed it over your quivering hole, and lapped your entrance and all over your clit again. You moaned softly, enjoying him and what he was doing to you, he reached and sunk his fingers into your mouth so you could taste yourself, and once you sucked on his digits and left them clean, he released your mouth and took them towards your pussy to keep torturing you with his fingers. He made your tight walls their home, finding your special spot so fast you gasped when he rubbed it roughly 

He kept fingering you and sucking on your clit until you gave him two more mind blowing orgasms, he had never eaten you out like this and you wondered if he was ever going to get bored of you, right now it didn’t seemed he was 

“Lloyd no more, please” you gasped, as you tried to grab his wrist to event him from entering your pussy again, but he just slapped your hand away 

“Shut the fuck up” and he dove in again, teasing your entrance with his thick fingers as his mustache scratched your clit raw making you squirm, feeling electricity bolts running all over your body. He kept sucking on your clit until you squirted all over his face without a single warning. “That’s it baby, give me everything” he encouraged, he kept rubbing your spot with his index and lapping all your juices, all you had to give him. 

“Lloyd, I’m sorry, I can't,” you cried, hugging his head between your thighs, “please no more, please, I’m yours, I'm yours!” you chanted, you needed to convince him

“My good girl” with one last lazy kiss on your clit, he released you, “You think I don’t hold you enough? I’ll make you warm my cock for the rest of the day” he threatened, “I’m going to hold you so close you will get tired of my fucking presence” he finally released you, leaving you laxed on top of the desk. 

“Lloyd” you called, feeling your eyes incredibly heavy, you wanted to feel asleep right then and there 

As you recuperated and came to your own self, you heard the door opening, you looked up to see a skinny man tattooed all over 

“I’m here for the comission Sir” he said simply, he didn’t seemed to care for the smell of sex in the room, or the fact that you looked throughouly fucked out of your mind.

“Right on time” Lloyd said with a wide smile, “Honey, I hope you have a high tolerance for pain” you looked back at him in fear when you realized the man had a tattoo machine on his hand, and was setting up right next to the desk

“I think you need a constant reminder of who you belong to” 

Two hours later, you were applying cream to your tattoo, that you exhibit over the left side of your ribcage, which read, “Property of Lloyd Hansen”

Taglist!

@phildunphyisadilf @lifeissomethingelse @black-repunzel99 @momobaby227 @siriusjohnpotter @l0st-in-reality @taytayvb1020 @chris-butt @aubageddon91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @patzammit @mooievis @cecegreen @samkysnks @nostxlgia18 @infatuatedjanes

[charnelhouse]

Charlie Hunnam Character Masterlist

Most works are NSFW and contain smut. 18+ only

Will Miller

Offer

Will and you have a secret “thing”.

touch me i’m golden 

You get doused in toxic powder. Will and Benny wash you off. (Benny Miller x F!Reader)

as loved ones would

Will dies. Benny clings to you. You need the distraction. (Benny Miller x F!Reader)

soft spoken with a broken jaw (TF! Poly Universe)

You and Will before it all.

Rooms

Will can’t get enough (TF! Poly Universe)

slow down you’re doing fine

Will and you take a trip.

like the last and the first

He fucks like Will. (Rick Flag x F!Reader)

Jax Teller

miss americana and the heartbreak prince

Jax Teller takes what he can get.

Drabbles/Requests:

Jax Teller

Pinned

Store Clerk

Secret

Bruising

Period

Alan McMichael

After

Pussy Eating

Raymond Smith

yes

dark cities

King Arthur

A Good Marriage

Excuses

Will Miller

Lost 

Baby

Quiet

therapy

[carni-val]

Hello. I know you still aren't taking requests, and I don't expect you to do this now. Could you write something with Raymond Smith calming his f!s/o down from a breakdown/panic attack that was caused by exhaustion and stress? And him finding out that his s/o hasn't ate or drank much if anything due to the stress.

I just found out we have bedbugs and I haven't slept but maybe an hour in the last 48 hours, and also only managed to drink a yogurt smoothie. I could use some self indulgent Raymond headcanons or whatever you feel like. It probably sounds selfish but, I need a break from reality. Your writing gives me that.

I'm Tired [Raymond Smith]

pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader

summary: Ray takes care of you when things get to be a little too much.

warnings: Reader having a hard time, a breakdown/panic attack

author's note: Hello my dear. First of all, I'm so sorry that you're going through this. Bed bugs are hell on earth so I will take this request to try and help soften the blow of it all. I also have not written for this man in so long and I kind of miss him. I will try and get back to writing for him as soon as I can <3

Charlie Hunnam Masterlist | Raymond Smith Masterlist

You hadn't answered Ray's calls for the past hour and it had him worried sick.

He knew you had to have been home from work by now, but he hadn't heard back from you.

He left Mickey's as soon as he could and made his way to your apartment, knocking frantically on the door when he got there.

No answer.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He pulled out his keys, finding the copy to your apartment key hanging there before unlocking the door and making his way in.

After he'd confided in you about what he did for work, the two of you decided it'd be a good thing for him to have the spare key, incase anything happened.

He hoped he'd never have to use it, but it looked like today was the day.

Once he was in your apartment, he searched through the rooms, calling out your name, growing more panicked each time he was met with silence.

When he finally got to your room, he found you on your bed, face soaked with tears and chest heaving.

"Oh, love." Ray's heart would just sink.

You looked okay physically - you didn't seem hurt, the place didn't seem to have been broken into, but you weren't really okay.

He'd rush over to the bed and take you in his arms, holding you there and letting you cry on his shoulder - no questions asked.

This wasn't the first time he'd seen you like this; he knew how overwhelming life could get and when it rained, it poured. But he was the best damn umbrella.

He didn't say a word, holding you tighter to him when you sobbed into his chest.

His ringed hand would reach up and smooth the hair on the back of your head, stroking your head gently and rhythmically, quietly shushing you and promising you that everything was okay - trying to remind himself of the same thing as he recovered from the fright you gave him - and if things weren't okay right now, then they would be.

He'd press kisses on top of your head and bare your weight, letting you rest.

"I'm so tired," you finally said once your crying calmed down.

Without another word, Ray lay down against your bed, you still cradled tightly in his arms and pressed against his chest.

It took you some time but you explained everything that had happened throughout your week; every single thing that fell through that just piled up and brought you to this point.

"And I can't even remember the last time I slept or ate anything," you sighed heavily.

This shifted a gear in Ray because this would absolutely not do and all of that was going to change right now.

He sat you up and pulled out a pair of your pyjamas from your dresser. It was barely six o'clock but tomorrow was Saturday so you could afford to lay in.

"You're going to rest here," he explained as he helped you get changed into your pyjamas. "And I'm gonna make you something to eat."

"Ray-" you begin to protest, not wanting him to leave your side.

"Just something quick, a sandwich maybe? And I'll be right back," he promised, helping you stand up as he exchanged your jeans for pyjama pants.

He was so gentle as he helped you into your pyjamas, holding onto your hand as you balanced on one foot to get the other foot into the pants.

He pulled the covers on your bed back and helped you lie down, propping up the pillows and fluffing them up before he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Ray moved around your kitchen quickly, putting together everything he needed to make a nice, hearty sandwich for you. He also boiled some water for some tea, knowing it'd help you fall asleep.

Once the meal was all made, he brought it to you and sat in bed next to you.

He was patient, letting you continue to talk it all out if you wanted to, but if you didn't, he'd be there to distract you with tidbits about his day or even to just sit there in silence and keep you company as you ate a long overdue meal and sipped on some tea.

He took the empty plate from your lap and placed it on your nightstand before opening up his arms and letting you fall into them again.

He was close enough to press a kiss to your head, play with your hair, and run his fingers along your arms to help you fall asleep faster.

Once he heard your deep breathing, he let out a sigh of relief and popped off his glasses to join you in a your nap.