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#the gentlemen/reader
make-me-imagine · 1 year
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Exactly My Type
Plot: When going to dinner at Raymond's for what you think is a work dinner, takes a turn.
Prompt: 'First Kiss'
Pairing: Raymond Smith x Gn!Reader
Requested By: @will-grammer
Warnings: Just the kiss.
Words: 1.5k
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As you walked up the path to Raymond's front door, you tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. No matter how many times you saw him or spoke to him, they were always there.
After ringing the doorbell, you wiped your hands down your top, hoping you didn't over-dress for this dinner. It was only to discuss work, you needed to remind yourself of that. It wasn't a date, just a casual work meal.
As the door swung open, Raymond revealed himself to be in his usual suited appearance, though with an added apron draped from his neck.
He smiled "Right on time."
"Like usual." You added on with a smile, knowing he always appreciated punctuality.
He held open the door or you you stepped inside. You began to take off your jacket, but hesitated when you suddenly felt Raymond grab it from behind. Looking back, your eyes locked and he smiled as he helped you remove it. You felt a shiver run up your spine as his fingers grazed your skin through the fabric.
"Thanks." You muttered softly.
After he hung it up, you followed him into the kitchen. Looking around, it was just a spotless and pristine as usual. But your eyes lingered on a new addition. A bouquet of flowers sitting on the table.
You felt your chest tighten as you wondered who he got them for. You knew quite a lot about Raymond, but he never mentioned personal relationships. You wouldn't be surprised if he had a partner, though you would be lying if you said you didn't feel disappointment at the idea.
Sitting at the bar as Raymond got some glasses, you didn't have to say anything as he immediately prepared your favorite drink. You smiled to yourself as you noticed this, your cheeks warming up a bit.
Looking over to the stove you spoke up "Need any help?"
He shook his head as he placed the drink in font of you "It's done, just need to plate it."
He motioned his head to the dining room table, where you normally ate. Making your way over, you began to sat down, surprised again by Raymond sudden appearance behind you as he pulled out your chair for you. You smiled in thanks as he walked back to the kitchen.
After you began eating, you started to talk about the reason you came, but you were surprised to learn that Raymond had already begun to resolve the problem.
And every problem you brought up, he seemed to have a resolution for as well. You started to wonder why you were here at all.
"Are Mickey and Rosalind aware of all of this?"
He nodded "Yes, but they don't need to worry right now. They went to The Maldives for Valentines Day."
You hummed "Sounds nice. How long are they staying?"
"A week. I hope to have everything resolved before they return."
"I don't doubt you will."
You saw his mouth twitch up at this, and you felt your chest burn a little warmer.
After cleaning up from dinner you and Raymond continued to sit and talk, new drinks in hand. You couldn't stop your eyes from occasionally looking over at the flowers. You hated how the curiosity burned in your chest.
Finally finding the courage, you spoke, though with reserve heavy in your voice. "Are you doing anything? For Valentines Day?"
Raymond looked at you in silence for a moment before adjusting his glasses "Should I be?"
You shrugged and took a sip of your drink "Well, if you finish this business for Mickey, you could give yourself some time off as well." You motioned your head towards the flowers "Looks like you've already started planning."
Raymond looked over at the flowers and you noticed how he repressed a smile "I have."
Your chest clenched at this. You were hoping he'd deny it.
"That's why I already prepared everything like I said."
"Are you going to tell me about them?" You asked, feigning a smile and curiosity, hoping Raymond couldn't see through it to the pain you were actually hiding.
He sat back in his chair for a moment, seemingly considering if he should. Adjusting his glasses again he cleared his throat.
"I've known them for quite a while now. They aren't what they seem like on the outside. People tend to think there is nothing more to them, but they're always wrong, there is always more."
You could sense pride in his voice as he talked about them and you'd be lying if you didn't feel a little jealous.
"Is that what won you over?" You asked with a slightly joking tone.
He smiled and shook his head "Not just that. It's also their bravery, kindness, skill, willingness to help anyone they can. Not to mention their sense of humor."
You smiled at him "Sounds like they got it all."
"They do. But they don't realize it themselves."
Clearing his throat he stood up and walked over to the table. You watched him closely as he approached the flowers before he grabbed them, bringing them over.
Oh great, was he going to talk about them some more? Are these their favorite flowers? Maybe you shouldn't have pushed.
Walking up to you, he set the flowers down in front of you before he put his hands in his pockets. You could see them more clearly now than before. It was a mix of white roses, dark pink dahlias and light pink peonies.
Reaching up you gently touched them. These were some of your favorite flowers.
"They're beautiful, they'll love them."
Raymond smiled softly in amusement as he gazed down a you. You met his eyes and suddenly felt like you were see through.
"What?"
"There for you, you toss-pot."
You felt as though a jolt of electricity went through you "What?"
"I was talking about you." He smiled a bit wider.
"Y- You were?"
Moving past you, he sat in the chair beside you facing you, his knees pressed up against your leg.
"I didn't invite you to talk work, I just wanted to have dinner with you. And I hoped, somewhere along the way I'd get a chance to give you these."
He could see your brain working in overdrive as you remained speechless, putting it all together.
He continued to smile softly at you before he reached over and placed his hand on top of yours, slowly linking his fingers around yours.
"I hope this stunned silence is not leading up to a rejection."
Finally taking hold of yourself you shook your head. "No, it's not, I'm just really surprised."
"Why?"
You shrugged your shoulders as you smiled a bit bashfully "I didn't think I was your type."
He grinned "You're exactly my type."
Your heart started pounding in your chest as he reached towards your legs with his other hand. You repressed a grin as he turned you so you were facing him, your legs now pressed against his.
As his eyes stared into yours, your ears burned hot. You had never seen him look at you like this. You saw his eyes flick to your lips for a split-second and your heart skipped a beat.
"Raymond?"
"Yes?" He asked softly.
"Thank you for the flowers." You replied with a softer voice.
"You're very welcome." Tilting his head slightly his smile turned into more of a smirk "Now about Valentines Day."
You quirked your brow.
"You are free I hope?"
You smiled and nodded "Yes, I'm free."
"Good, I wasn't looking forward to having competition."
You chuckled and shook your head "No competition. No one could compete anyways."
He smiled and you swore you saw a blush crawl across his cheeks for a moment.
"So, Valentines Day?" You added on.
"Yes. What we will be doing is a secret. I just want to make sure you have the day free."
"The whole day?" You asked with lightly surprise and he shrugged his head. You leaned forward and spoke with a light sarcastic tone "Are you going to try and seduce me Raymond?"
He smirked and leaned in as well "I thought I already had."
You grinned "Bold assumption."
His smile grew as well and you saw his eyes flick to your lips again before his gaze held yours. He moved his face in closer, so your noses were almost touching.
"I suppose I should try harder then."
Leaning in in sync, your lips met and your heart jolted. Raymond's hand quickly rose to cup your face before he cupped your head, deepening the kiss. You laid your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating heavily. After a second, his other hand come up as he gently place it on top of yours, squeezing lightly.
After a few more moments, you parted, somewhat breathless. Your eyes locked as you both had soft smiles. Bringing his hand back to cup your face, he gently brushed his thumb over your lips as his eyes lingered on them.
"I've been wanting to do that for a long time." He said softly before he met your eyes again "And I'd very much like to do it again." He spoke as he slowly leaned in closer.
You smiled as you met him in another kiss, softer and slower this time, as he linked the fingers of his other hand through yours.
xx End xx
Kind of an abrupt ending, but I didn't know where to go with it where it would end naturally lol I hope you liked it!~
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry
Raymond Smith Taglist: @will-grammer, @venusthepirate
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ineylesian · 15 days
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thinking about the hat rule w boothill…
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In a crowd full of flashing lights and dancing people, Boothill allows you to take his hat off.
Albeit, he’s extremely drunk. The scent of bourbon trails off of his breath as you lean in, swiping the black leather off of his head, spinning its brim between your fingers. His voice is tinged with a daze as he grumbles at you to give it back to him, but doesn’t stop your admiration of the medallion fastened to the red ribbon that matches his eye.
He’s especially silent when you slip the hat onto your head, coy smile plastered on your face. His brain nearly short circuits at your bravery, and, while he would normally tease you for being this bold to a ranger, all rational reasoning is cut off by the alcohol.
So, Boothill thrusts his drink into a stranger’s hands, and grabs you by the top of his hat before you can run.
“Come here, you little minx. You know what you did.”
The rasp of his mechanical voice box meets your ears, and you can do nothing but stare at him sheepishly as he tilts your chin upward. Wordlessly, he dives forward, lips crashing into yours, teeth poking at your tongue as you embarrassingly try to scurry away. A slight crowd gathers as you drag Boothill out of the bar, all whilst he nips at your neck and starts to loosen his clothes without shame.
You remind yourself to try again when he’s not drunk.
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laurfilijames · 3 months
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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!
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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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The Lady - 1
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Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader
Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , -
Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments. Thank you for your continued encouragement!
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In the heart of the military training ground, you, a seasoned Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) technician, stand poised amidst a group of nervous soldiers. Among them is Private Jameson, a newcomer with trembling hands and apprehensive eyes. With unwavering composure, you take charge, your voice steady as you address the group.
"Today, we're covering the basics of bomb disposal," you begin, your tone reassuring yet firm. Turning to Private Jameson, you offer a patient smile.
"You, Private. What's your name?" Despite his nervousness, Private Jameson responds, and you guide him with a calming presence, instilling confidence as you impart your expertise.
"Jameson, take a deep breath," you instruct softly but firmly. "Remember, focus is key. You've got this." Private Jameson nods, his eyes locked on your reassuring gaze.
As he examines the device, you watch attentively, offering guidance with each movement. When he finishes, you nod approvingly. "Well done, Private. Now, let's move on."
As Private Jameson continues under your guidance, the other soldiers watch with admiration. They've seen you in action before, witnessed your dedication to the mission and your willingness to put yourself in harm's way for the greater good.
"Ma'am, what if the situation calls for immediate action?" Private Reynolds interjects, reflecting the group's curiosity.
You acknowledge the gravity of the question. "In a real-world scenario, there may not be time for thorough examination," you explain calmly. "Trust your instincts and make split-second decisions."
Private Jameson glances at you, newfound respect shining in his eyes. "But you always seem so calm under pressure, ma'am," he remarks admiringly.
You smile humbly, reflecting on the countless moments of uncertainty you've faced. "It's not about being fearless, Private," you reply earnestly. "It's about pushing through fear for those counting on you."
Your words hang in the air, a silent reminder of the sacrifices made by soldiers like you every day. With renewed determination, Private Jameson nods, his resolve strengthened by your example.
As the door of the training facility echoed with a sharp knock, you exchanged a puzzled glance with your comrades. The abrupt interruption stirred a sense of unease within you, a foreboding whisper of uncertainty.
"A lawyer wants to see you," the soldier at the door announced, his voice tinged with urgency.
You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Me?" you repeated, your mind racing to grasp the sudden turn of events. "Hmm, he sounds British," you mused aloud, your instincts sharpened by years of training.
With measured steps, you followed your comrade through the maze of corridors until you reached the visitor's area. There, standing before you, was a figure from your past, a familiar face veiled in the somber cloak of time.
"Miss," the lawyer greeted you with a solemn nod, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths.
Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him, the memories flooding back like an unstoppable tide. It had been fifteen years since you last saw him, a lifetime of distance and estrangement separating you.
"I assumed something bad happened?" you ventured cautiously, your tone laced with concern and apprehension.
The lawyer, Cedric, nodded gravely, his expression betraying the gravity of the news he bore.
You and Cedric found a quiet place to talk. "Something's wrong?" you inquired, noting the somber expression on Cedric's face as he adjusted his glasses.
Cedric remained silent momentarily, his gaze fixed on the ground before meeting your eyes. "Duke Rupert died two days ago," he finally uttered, his voice laden with gravity.
Your heart clenched at the news. Duke Rupert was your stepfather, and the thought of his passing filled you with a mix of sorrow and apprehension.
Cedric continued, his words weighed down by the weight of the news. "On his will, he wrote that he wants all the family to gather. I came here as soon as I could. And you could attend the funeral too. He probably wants it too."
You nodded, absorbing the information with a heavy heart. The sudden loss of Duke Rupert had thrown your world into disarray, and the prospect of gathering with the family only added to the uncertainty swirling within you.
Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, determined to face whatever lay ahead with strength
You nodded in response to Cedric's words, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I'll gather my things," you said quietly, steeling yourself for the task ahead.
As you packed your belongings into your bag, Private Jameson approached you, his curiosity evident in his voice. "So, it turns out you're a noble," he remarked, his tone tinged with surprise.
You chuckled lightly, shaking your head in response. "I'm not. It was my step-dad. There's no noble blood in me," you explained, a hint of self-deprecation in your voice.
Jameson furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued. "We've been working together for years, but you never mentioned anything about this," he observed, his tone filled with genuine interest.
You zipped up your bag, pausing momentarily before meeting Jameson's gaze. "It's just family stuff. Nothing interesting," you replied cryptically, a hint of sadness flickering in your eyes before you turned away, ready to face the uncertain future that lay ahead.
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After a grueling 12-hour flight, you finally arrived back in the UK. As the car pulled up to Evergreen Abbey, your childhood home, a rush of nostalgia washed over you. The manor stood proudly, its historical façade unchanged by the passing years.
Stepping out of the car, you took a moment to absorb the familiar sight before you. The memories of your upbringing flooded back, filling you with a sense of belonging despite the years of absence.
As you entered the manor, you were greeted by the sight of a middle-aged woman wearing a classic black dress adorned with a string of pearls. Her youthful aura belied the years that had passed since you last saw her. It was your mother, Susan.
"You're back," she exclaimed, opening her arms wide to envelop you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of her perfume brought tears to your eyes as you returned her hug, feeling a sense of comfort and homecoming wash over you.
You nodded as Susan spoke, absorbing the news of Duke Rupert's accident with a heavy heart. The realization that your stepfather had passed away hit you like a wave, stirring emotions you had long buried.
"I'm so sorry. What happened?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern as you reached out to grasp Susan's hand for support.
Susan sighed her expression a mixture of sadness and frustration. "That silly old man's, I told him not to ride a horse, but he insisted and he fell," she explained, her tone tinged with regret. "Rupert always well-prepared, but I don't know why he really insisted on riding a horse that day."
Before you could respond, the sound of another voice broke through the somber atmosphere. "Thank God you're here," the voice exclaimed, drawing your attention. You turned to see your stepbrother, Charles, standing before you.
But your breath caught in your throat when you saw him wearing priestly attire. "Charles?" you uttered in disbelief, your eyes widening in surprise.
Charles opened his arms and enveloped you in a warm hug, his presence comforting despite the unexpected change in his appearance. "I'm glad you're here," he said, his handshake firm and sincere as he greeted you.
You were speechless, your mind struggling to process the transformation before you. There was a warmth in Charles's eyes, a genuine kindness that seemed to radiate from within him. He was different from the last time you saw him, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of him in his new role.
"Are you wearing a cassock?" you finally managed to ask, your voice filled with curiosity as you glanced at Charles's attire.
Susan gently pinched your arm, her expression amused yet reproachful. "Silly girl, this is why you should reply to my letters, phone calls, and emails," she chided gently. "Charles has become a priest."
"I know you will find it hard to believe. But I went through a miracle that made me fully believed in God." As Charles spoke of his newfound faith, you struggled to reconcile this revelation with the memory of Charlie, who once hurled harsh words at you.
Then you heard a familiar voice, cutting through the tension like a knife. "You're here."
It was Charlotte, Charles's twin sister. Her gaze bore into you with the same disdain it always had, unchanged after all these years.
Charlotte was never one to hide her feelings about you. From the moment your mother brought you into their lives, she had seen you as nothing more than an unwanted burden.
Your mother's marriage to the Duke had brought you into a world of privilege and resentment. While your stepfather had become a father figure you'd never had, it came at the cost of your relationship with your own mother. Susan was desperate to fit into her new role as Duchess, and you were often left feeling like an outsider in your own home.
The Duke's children, Charles and Charlotte, had quickly formed a bond with your mother, leaving you feeling like an intruder in your own family. They resented you for stealing their father's attention, and the tension between you had only grown over the years.
Living at Evergreen Abbey had always felt like walking on eggshells. That's why, as soon as you came of age, you left for the United States and joined the army, seeking refuge from the suffocating atmosphere of the manor.
Charlotte's cold gaze was a painful reminder of the resentment that had always simmered beneath the surface. "Let's get this over with, please," she said, her words dripping with disdain.
"What does it mean?" you asked, scanning the room for answers but finding only silence and the weight of years of unresolved conflict hanging heavy in the air.
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You couldn't believe your eyes as Charles stood before you, now a priest leading your stepfather's funeral. Rupert's passing seemed surreal, and as they closed the casket, you had a chance to see his face one last time.
His face looked different, smiling unnaturally due to the glue used to preserve it. It starkly contrasted the smile you remembered, and you regretted not seeing Rupert one last time before this moment. Placing a red rose near his casket, you whispered, "I'm going to miss you."
During the burial, your gaze wandered, and you noticed a little boy standing near your mother.
But someone standing alone amidst the gathering of family and guests caught your attention. Who is he?
After the burial concluded, the house filled with guests offering condolences. The strange man also disappeared. Susan and Charles gracefully accepted their sympathies, while Charlotte's whereabouts only God knows.
Amidst the crowd, you heard a gentle voice call your name. "Y/N?"
Turning around, you saw Eddie standing there. "Eddie? How are you?" You greeted him with a side hug, grateful for the familiarity in the midst of the somber occasion.
Eddie hugged you back, offering his condolences as you shared a moment of solace amid the chaos of the gathering.
Eddie's inquiry about your military service brought back memories, including a long-kept secret: you used to have a crush on him. It was partly why you joined the army, sharing a dream of serving alongside him. "Yeah," you answered, still groggy from the day's emotions.
"What about you? Did you join the army too?"
Eddie chuckled. "I did, but I left to pursue a business."
You nodded, finding it fitting for him. "You're looking more like a duke these days."
Taking a sip of water, Eddie revealed a surprising truth. "I am. I became a duke after my father passed."
Your shock was evident. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."
Eddie's chuckle held a hint of understanding. "Yeah, after you left, you sort of cut contacts with everyone."
You hesitated, recalling the mention of a will by Cedric. "What about your family tradition? Isn't your older brother supposed to be the duke?"
Eddie's expression shifted slightly. "It changed after my father's will."
Your unease grew as thoughts of Rupert's will resurfaced. Eddie noticed your worry and reached out, touching your hand. "Hey, if you need me, just call me."
Grateful for his support, you managed a small smile. "Thanks, Eddie."
########
As everyone sat waiting for the lawyer, a new presence entered the room. A little boy, perhaps around 10 years old, joined the gathering, taking a seat beside Charlotte. He stole occasional glances in your direction, his curiosity evident in his wide-eyed gaze.
Unable to contain your surprise, you turned to Charlotte and asked, "You have a child?"
Charlotte rolled her eyes in response, her annoyance palpable, while Charles chuckled softly at the exchange.
Feeling a familiar pinch on your arm, you turned to see Susan giving you a reproachful look. "This is why you should've answered my calls. He's your brother," she scolded gently.
Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Huh?!" you exclaimed, your mind struggling to comprehend the revelation as you glanced back at the little boy sitting beside Charlotte, a newfound sense of connection dawning within you. Now his face and future look similar to yours.
You found yourself at a loss for words, grappling with the sudden revelation of a long-lost sibling. The realization that you had cut off all contact when you joined the army weighed heavily on your conscience, leaving you with a profound sense of regret for the years of missed connections and lost opportunities.
Running a hand through your face, you let out a weary sigh, the weight of the past 15 years bearing down on you like a heavy burden. "Will there be another surprise?" you wondered aloud, the question hanging in the air as you braced yourself for whatever other unexpected twists fate had in store for you.
A few minutes later, Cedric, the lawyer, strode into the room with purpose, placing his briefcase on the table before retrieving the file. With a solemn expression, he began to read aloud the contents of Duke Rupert's will.
"Everyone will get a share of his insurance and investments," Cedric announced, his voice measured and professional. "Except Y/N."
You couldn't help but feel a twinge of resignation at the news, having expected as much given the strained dynamics within the family. Glancing around the room, you noted the acceptance in your mother's and the twins' expressions, as if they had anticipated this outcome.
But then, Cedric's next words shattered the calm facade that had settled over the room. "For the Evergreen Abbey Manor and the title, I hereby give it to Y/N L/N," he continued, his voice resolute.
Your shock was palpable, the expletive escaping your lips before you could stop it.
'HUH?!'
"What the fuck?" you exclaimed, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events as the weight of Duke Rupert's decision settled heavily upon you.
As Charles let out a disbelieving "Hoo," and Charlotte expressed her relief with a curt "Great, not my problem anymore," the tension in the room seemed to escalate.
'Wait. The twins aren't angry?'
Your mother reached out, gently squeezing your hand and offering a reassuring look, her silent support a comforting anchor amidst the chaos unfolding around you.
"Why do I feel like I'm carrying a bomb in my hand?" you muttered, the weight of Duke Rupert's legacy pressing down on you like a heavy burden.
Cedric adjusted his glasses, his expression grave as he spoke. "When you became the Lady of this house... Your grace, pardon me that I have to tell you this," he began carefully. "The former Duke had debts, and he was involved in what we might call 'creative' work."
"You mean drugs, gambling, and the like?" you interjected, your voice laced with disbelief.
Susan shot you a warning glance, her lips forming a silent reprimand. "You shouldn't say that word in front of your brother," she whispered, her tone urgent.
Turning to her younger son, she leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's not drugs, but weed," she clarified softly.
"Oh, wow. Now I feel relieved," you replied sarcastically, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you as you struggled to come to terms with the unexpected revelations about Duke Rupert's illicit activities.
You ran a hand through your hair in frustration, the enormity of the situation sinking in. "How much is the debt?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.
"8 million pounds," Cedricbreplied solemnly, his tone grave.
Charles made the sign of the cross a gesture of disbelief. "Oh Lord," he murmured under his breath.
"And he wants me to repay the debt when I never took a single cent?" you exclaimed, incredulity coloring your words as you struggled to comprehend the injustice of it all.
"Was he high when he wrote the will? Why me?!!"
Sighing heavily, you turned your gaze towards the imposing manor, its grandeur now overshadowed by the weight of Duke Rupert's debts. "Can I just sell this manor?" you wondered aloud, desperation creeping into your voice.
"It will take months or years, Your Grace. And the debt has to be paid by the end of this month," Cedric explained, punctuated by a sense of urgency.
But before you could act on your impulse, Susan's voice cut through the air, her tone laced with urgency and apprehension. "You can't sell the manor," she interjected, her gaze pleading with you to reconsider.
Confusion flickered in your eyes as you turned to face her, a mix of frustration and resignation bubbling up inside you. "Why not?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation.
Susan's response was swift, her words carrying the weight of years of pent-up frustration and resentment. "If you sell the manor, I would lose my title as a duchess," she explained, her voice quavering with emotion.
The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, stirring up memories of the strained relationship that had defined your interactions with Susan over the years. Her obsession with upholding the image of a perfect duchess had driven a wedge between you, leaving your relationship fraught with tension and resentment.
As you stood there, grappling with the weight of Duke Rupert's debts and the expectations thrust upon you by your title, you couldn't help but feel a sense of bitterness creeping in.
You let out another sigh, resigned to the reality of the situation. "I need a drink," you muttered, the thought of seeking solace in the most potent alcohol near the lake seeming like the only reprieve from the turmoil raging inside you.
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As you sat by the lake's tranquil waters, the weight of the situation bearing down on you, regret began to seep into your thoughts like a creeping mist.
Coming back here had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, faced with the reality of Duke Rupert's debts and the burden they placed upon you, you couldn't help but wonder if it had been a mistake.
Taking a sip of your whiskey, you allowed the warmth of the liquid to wash over you, momentarily easing the turmoil in your mind. But even the soothing embrace of alcohol couldn't dispel the unease gnawing at your insides.
Lost in your thoughts, you were startled when a small figure approached, breaking the silence that had settled over the lakeside. You glanced up to see your little stepbrother, Hugo, standing before you with a tentative expression on his face.
"Uh, hi. Hello. I'm your older sister," you greeted awkwardly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.
Hugo returned your greeting with a shy smile. "Hi, step-bro. Hugo. Ten years old," he introduced himself, his voice soft and uncertain.
An awkward silence hung between you, the gap between your worlds feeling vast and insurmountable. Sensing the tension, you made an effort to bridge the divide.
"You want to walk?" you offered, gesturing towards the path that wound its way around the edge of the lake.
Hugo hesitated for a moment before nodding hesitantly. "Hmm...," he murmured, his eyes brightening with a hint of curiosity as he took a tentative step forward, ready to embark on this uncertain journey with you.
As you and Hugo began to playfully throw stones into the lake, the tension between you gradually dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie born from the simple joy of shared activity.
"So, Hugo, do you know what's happening at the household?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You had learned in the military that children often possessed an innate honesty that could shed light on complex situations.
Hugo paused in his stone-throwing, considering your question for a moment before responding. "Walls have ears, and the workers always gossip," he replied cryptically, his voice tinged with wisdom beyond his years.
Impressed by his insight, you couldn't help but smile. "Wow," you remarked, genuinely impressed by Hugo's observation. "Do you want to share?" you prompted, curious to hear his perspective on the goings-on within the household.
As Hugo shared his insights, you listened intently, surprised by the depth of understanding hidden behind his youthful facade.
"Charlie doesn't want to take the house because of the debt, and he wants to become a pope," Hugo explained matter-of-factly, his words carrying a weight of resignation.
You responded with a puzzled "Huh?"
"And Charlotte doesn't care since she's going to marry a prince. She doesn't want anything related to Dad's 'creative work.' It will ruin her image."
"Her image? She's marrying a prince?" you interjected, your incredulity evident in your tone.
Hugo regarded you with a knowing look. "You're really ignorant, huh?" he remarked bluntly, his words stinging with a hint of playful teasing.
Feeling a pang of embarrassment at being corrected by a child, you cleared your throat awkwardly. "Hey..." you started, but Hugo continued without missing a beat.
"Sis Charlotte has quite millions of followers on social media," he elaborated, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "If her name is connected to weed and family debt—"
"It will ruin her image, and she'll have to pay the penalty," you finished, the implications sinking in as you processed Hugo's words. "Wait, how old are you again?" you asked, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement at the maturity of his observations.
Hugo raised both hands, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Ten," he replied, the innocence of his youth juxtaposed against the weight of the knowledge he carried.
You chuckled softly, taking another sip of your whiskey as you observed Hugo with newfound respect. Children were indeed frighteningly perceptive these days, and you made a mental note to tread carefully around him in the future.
You looked at the lake and sighed again. No wonder Charlie felt relieved upon seeing you. He wouldn't have to worry about these things. If his past caught up with him while pursuing his path to becoming a pope, it would ruin everything for him.
As for Charlotte, nothing ever seems to be enough for her. If her future in-laws from the royal family were to find out about this business, they would likely cancel her marriage.
So it's obvious they were relieved when Rupert chose you as the heir.
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As both of you made your way back home, your senses went on high alert as you spotted a black Range Rover parked near the entrance. The sight of the familiar car sent a chill down your spine, and you felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach.
He's the man who watched Rupert's funeral from afar.
"Hugo, go inside," you instructed quietly, your voice tinged with urgency as you gestured for him to retreat to the safety of the house.
The man who emerged from the car was none other than the same individual you had seen at the funeral. James Barnes, or "Bucky" as he preferred to be called, approached you with a confident stride, his demeanor exuding an air of authority.
"Sorry to disturb your afternoon walk," Bucky began, his voice smooth and polite. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm James Barnes, but you could call me Bucky."
You nodded in acknowledgment, your guard instinctively rising as you braced yourself for whatever news he had come to deliver. "How can I help you, Mr. Barnes?" you inquired, your tone guarded yet polite.
"It's difficult for me to say while you're still grieving," Bucky admitted, his expression sympathetic. "But the former duke owed money to us."
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "You see, Mr. Barnes, I just got here two days ago after 15 years," you explained wearily, the weight of Duke Rupert's legacy pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.
Bucky raised an eyebrow at your revelation, his interest piqued. "Yeah, Rupert mentioned it a couple of times," he remarked casually.
"Did he?" you muttered under your breath, feeling a surge of annoyance at Duke Rupert's apparent penchant for gossip.
"Let's continue this at the office," you suggested tersely, eager to put some distance between yourself and the unsettling presence of James Barnes.
As you stepped into Rupert's office for the first time, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, mingling with the lingering scent of his cigar and the familiar musk that seemed to permeate the room. It was a scent you had grown accustomed to over the years, a reminder of the man who had once occupied this space.
Pouring another whiskey for yourself and a glass for Bucky, you couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy as you reflected on the memories associated with this room. Duke Rupert's presence seemed to linger in every corner, his larger-than-life persona casting a shadow over the space.
Bucky took a moment to savor the whiskey, his expression one of appreciation. "Your step-dad always did have a good collection of alcohol," he remarked, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words as he raised his glass in a silent toast.
You nodded in agreement, acknowledging the truth in his words. Despite the complexities of his character, Duke Rupert had always taken pride in his impressive selection of drinks, a testament to his refined taste and penchant for the finer things in life.
Taking a sip of your drink, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence in the air. "Do you have business with my step-dad?" you asked, your tone cautious as you eyed Bucky across the desk.
Bucky's admission hung heavy in the air as he spoke, his words carrying a weight of responsibility and obligation.
"I lent him my money and I protected him," he explained, his tone tinged with a sense of duty.
"Why? His weed business didn't work out?" you asked, curiosity piqued by the revelation.
Bucky shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "It was successful. But he had a change of heart and wanted out. And his boss didn't like it. That's where I came in," he elaborated, his expression grave.
"Eight million pounds. Is all because of you?" you queried, the enormity of the debt now beginning to make sense.
Bucky tilted his head, his gaze meeting yours with a solemn intensity. "The price of the damage I got for protecting your step-dad. I gained more enemies," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.
Setting down your whiskey glass, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. Despite the tangled web of intrigue and deceit surrounding Duke Rupert, at least his involvement in the weed business was not the cause of his debts.
You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Options seemed limited, and each path forward appeared fraught with challenges and uncertainties.
Glancing at the bank statements and stock reports spread out on the desk before you, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. Duke Rupert's financial situation was far from ideal, and the prospect of producing eight million pounds seemed increasingly daunting.
Your mother's reluctance to sell the manor only added to the complexity of the situation. Despite the financial burden it represented, the estate held sentimental value for her, serving as a tangible connection to Duke Rupert and the life they had built together.
The twins' indifference to the predicament only further highlighted the sense of isolation you felt in confronting this dilemma alone. But then your thoughts turned to Hugo, the youngest member of the family, and the realization dawned on you that the manor held a special significance for him as well.
Selling off the artwork and alcohol collection was a possibility, but the process would take time, and the prospect of navigating the complexities of the open market and taxation only added to the uncertainty.
With few options left to consider, you knew that your best course of action was to confront the man himself. Despite your reservations, you couldn't ignore the fact that Bucky held the key to unraveling the mystery of Duke Rupert's debts.
As the desire to return to the U.S. gnawed at you, a sense of urgency washed over you, driving you to seek resolution as quickly as possible. But with time ticking away and the weight of responsibility bearing on your shoulders, you knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and sacrifices.
You sighed heavily, the weight of the situation settling upon your shoulders. "What options do I have?
Bucky's smile was almost too slick, his finger pointing at you like a loaded gun. "I really like your attitude, Your Grace. Straight to the point," he remarked, his voice smooth as silk.
As he unbuttoned his suit and slid his hands into his pocket pants, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a dark cloud. "I'm also intrigued by your career as an expert in bombs," he continued, his words sending a chill down your spine.
A knot of unease tightened in your stomach as you braced yourself for what was to come. "Go on," you replied tersely, the tension crackling in the air between you.
With a calculated gesture, Bucky brought his hands together, the glint of gold rings catching the light and adding an air of menace to his demeanor. "I will make the debt of 8 million pounds disappear. If you help me," he declared, his tone dripping with promise.
Your heart skipped a beat at the audacity of his offer, the implications of his words sinking in like a lead weight. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders.
Bucky hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering with uncertainty before he finally spoke. "I've got more competition after I helped Rupert. Thinking about it gives me headaches. That's where you come in," he explained cryptically, his words laden with hidden meaning.
Raising an eyebrow, you regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The silence stretched between you, thick with tension, until Bucky finally broke it with a chilling revelation. "I want you to create an explosion. To get rid of them," he stated bluntly, his eyes boring into yours with unwavering intensity.
"Fuck!"
Cursing under your breath, you cast a wary glance at the painting of Rupert hanging on the wall. His eyes seemed to bore into you, judging your every move. As an army EOD technician, the thought of making a bomb for a criminal to pay off a debt filled you with a sense of dread.
Regret gnawed at you like a festering wound as you grappled with the weight of the decision before you. Coming back home had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, faced with the reality of the situation, you couldn't help but wish you had never returned.
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The Wrong One 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Raymond Smith
Summary: You get caught up in the double lives of your employers.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You hitch up the cloth bag on your shoulder, another in your hand, flat soles scuffing over the geometric stonework of the walkway. You take the single step up and pass between the perfectly trimmed hedges. You press your phone between cheek and shoulder as you key in the code to the punch pad with definitive beeps.
"Yes, Mrs. Malfort would like the delivery tomorrow morning," you confirm, "yes, please... mhmm."
You push inside and set the bag in your hand on the side table. You slip the other down your arm and put it with the other. You rest your phone between them, gripping the edge as you lift a foot to unlace your shoe.
You look up as you sense movement in the mirror mounted above the table and gasp. Suddenly, you're taken off your feet as a man in a mask clamps his gloved hand over your mouth. You squeak into the leather paw and kick you as you grasp his wrist. What the hell is going on?
The man grunts as you wriggle against him, his other arm hooking around your middle. Another man appears from the next doorway and grabs your legs. Your panic surges as you claw and writhe. You don't understand what's going on.
"Christ," the one at your back growls through his throat, "this one's fiesty."
"Stop fucking around," the other deliberately lowers his voice an octave.
"Tell me to stop, eh?" The first man brings his thick arm around your neck, flexing against your throat until you're breathless.
"Now, sweetheart, you just be still and close your eyes," the other purrs, "I'm sure ya do it all the time for yer old man."
Your eyes round and you whimper, tugging at the forearm beneath your chin. Your eyes fill with tears as adrenaline floods your veins. You don't understand. You just went to get groceries.
You squeak as a prick jabs through your jeans. You spasm, frantically trying to free yourself as an acidic heat seeps into you. No, no, what did he just do. There's a tink against the floor as the man nearly loses hold of your ankles.
"Fuck!" The one by your head grits out.
"Won't take the long," the other assures, "give her a minute."
You shudder as you feel the heaviness spread through you. Your muscles ache and your vision blurs. This can't be happening. It's not happening!
You blink, black spots speckling before you as you go limp between the man. You hang between them, twitching as you fight the rising tide of darkness. Your eyes roll back and your head pulses violently. You succumb to the void, terrified you might never see light again.
➰️
There's a thick sheet between you and the world. Lights are fuzzy, colours are dull, and all you can hear is your own heartbeat. The steady tempo breaks only as your breaths rise and fall shallowly. Your muscles tingle, toes numb, fingers throbbing.
You groan and try to move, your head lolling as you lack the strength to lift it. You cough through your dry throat, lashes fluttering, blinking through the fog. You manage to open them fully, staring at your own lap.
A tight restraint bites into your wrists and each ankle. You slump in the chair, arms drawn behind you. Your chest racks as you suck down air and try to find some semblance of strength.
You wince as something clicks. You shiver as the cool air seeps through your cotton polo, raising bumps on your exposed arms. A door swings open with the soft whisper of hinges and measured footsteps approach.
A hand reaches to lift your chin and your head wobbles as you look up at a masked figure. The scene crashes into you like a wave. If you weren't tied to a chair, it would knock you on your ass.
Through the slits of the dark mask, blue eyes gleam and the man leans in. He has broad shoulders and smells of lavender and sandalwood. He searches your face as you try to do the same to him, finding only the ribbed black fabric over obscured features.
"Shit," he whispers as he lets you go. Your head droops back down and he backs up hurriedly, "oi, morons."
The door slams blocking out his holler and you moan. Everything hurts. The world is like an echo of itself. Distant and bleary.
Silence. It's only you and the dark room, lit by a single lamp that casts shadows over covered furniture. White sheets over lumpy shapes that could be sofas, chairs, and tables. The walls are laid with antiquated wallpaper and dark walnut siding. In another lifetime, this room was cozy and welcoming.
The door opens again, jarring you from your dazed wanderings. You look up, getting your head a little higher than before. Three men in masks near and stop before you.
"Are you sure it's the wrong one, boss?" The man, the tallest of the bunch, on the right asks.
"I'm fucking sure," the center one retorts, "Did you even look at her?"
"Well, she walked in the front door so--"
"So you assumed?" The middle one snarls, "what the fuck am I supposed to do with..." he waves his hands towards you. He huffs and steps closer, bending to look you in the eye, "who the fuck are ya?"
You lift your head a little higher and quiver, reciting your name clumsily.
"And why the fuck are you strolling around the Malforts'?" He sneers.
"I..." you murmur and flick your lashes up, "I'm the maid."
He stands straight and spins, throwing up his hands, "the fucking maid!" He smacks the men as he passes between them and storms out.
The men look over at each other through the slits of their masks.
"So what d'ya think we do with her?" The left one asks.
"Good question..." the other sucks his teeth, "s'pose we let him cool down and ask.”
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mauvecherie-writes · 3 months
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When The Gentleman series drops, you’re not gonna get get me to shut up fr.
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kazutora-kurokawa · 2 months
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Bonten!Sanzu x Reader: Waking Up To You
♡ SFW, fem reader, wife!reader, mainly fluff but there's a suggestive part, soft!Sanzu ♡
note: I'm fixating on Bonten Sanzu rn, he's just so pretty 🌸
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
Imagine waking up and seeing Sanzu getting ready for work. His tie hanging loosely around his neck as he rushed back and forth looking for his keys. His eyes meet yours and he scolds himself for waking you up. He always tried to be as quiet as possible before he left, leaving gentle kisses on your head before he departed.
"Hey darling, how'd you sleep?"
You mumbled something along the lines of good, as you stretched and wriggled around underneath your fluffy blanket. You were always so cute in the morning (in his opinion anyway). The way the light from the window shined on your face made his heart skip a beat. Waking up next to you was the highlight of his morning and his entire day. His large, lanky figure hovered over you as he leaned down to kiss you goodbye. Sanzu always liked teasing you and it was no different in the morning when you were still sleepy. He planted soft kisses all over your face, purposely kissing everywhere except your lips.
"Haru stop teasing, I want a kiss on the lips!"
"Which ones?"
"Don't make me smack you."
"Okay okay, no need to threaten me."
He smirked at the annoyed look on your face before planting a long kiss on your lips. His hands cupped your face as your arms wrapped around him. He desperately wished he could stay home all day, wrapped in your loving embrace. But alas, he has a job to fulfill and he unfortunately can't just skip work to relax with his wife. He reluctantly pulled away from you and grabbed his keys off the nightstand.
"I'll see you sometime tonight, depending on what Mikey wants me to do. I love you princess~"
"I love you too Haru, come back to me in one piece 'kay?"
"I always do darling ♡"
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
Taglist
@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @kazubarbie @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies
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simp-ly-writes · 1 month
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Friend of the Captain (pt.2)
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Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Reader
Summary: Years had past since you had last seen Eddie. Doctor, CEO and soon to be girlfriend of another man. You end up seeing him at Freddy and Tammy's wedding yet other forces keep pulling your both away from admitting to your feelings. What will it take for one of you to see the truth?- as Charlotte ever so indelicately puts it.
Warnings: 3755 words, utter jealousy, language, and light teasing, angst to potential fluff and lots and lots of pining.
A/N: I have watched an unhealthy amount of edits while on dinner break- I must be stopped (gods i'm supposed to be on break!)- this is way longer than I was expecting it to be, perhaps even a part three...
Masterlist | Taglist | somewhat un-edited.
(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)
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↳ Years had past since you had last seen Edward. You still kept in contact with his siblings and his mother, of course. Lady Sabrina refused to let you go- often sending various treats and letters towards your family's estate, you called her ever other week with updates to your studies, travels, and love life. Your mother teasingly voiced her jealousy towards her best friend choosing her own daughter over her best friend.
↳ You often joined the older ladies out for a dinner or lunch with Charlotte tagging along when she was not in school (yet you would never tell Charlotte's parents otherwise to you signing her out as a trusted guardian and taking her even out of the country some weekends). Clicking your glasses together while looking down upon the busy London streets, you smirked seeing someone wearing a piece of yours from across the street.
Tugging at your mothers dress-sleeve she trued around in her seat, grasping your hand in a tight squeeze of excitement and pride as her wrist glittered in your newest bracelet collection. After finishing your PHD of Business Administration you took a fake name to hide your identity for the public and papers for as long as you could. You often blushed now- seeing your face on gossip articles with your date of the evening.
Dinner tonight was a celebration of your recent contract with an up-and-coming movie star- he would be wearing your necklaces on the red carpet by the end of the week. A bottle of bubbly, bubbled your laughter to the surface as they all screamed in your ear, jumping up and down and clapping their hands in the restaurant as you ducked your head, trying to stray away from the attention.
↳ Unknowing to you though is that your's and Edward's mother collected all the gossip magazines, continuing their bet as Sabrinas heart fell every time you looked so in love with your new partner. Charlotte would often make side comments about your "slut era" she called it as you knocked her shoulder with your own, rolling your eyes before your mother swatted your shoulder at the dinner table and insisted on maintaining appearances in the public eye.
--
↳ When inside your studio-office space, drafting up new designs with your creative team. You spun around of your chair and became shocked when you eventually rolled back around to find a wax-sealed envelope with the Halstead crest so beautifully stamped. Peeling away the wax as carefully as you could, the thick, textured paper settled nicely between our hands as you read through the invitation. Tears beginning to well in your eyes before you were squealing in Freddy's ear through the desk-phone as he winced and handed the phone over to Tammy. Both laughing over your childish excitement to their own wedding.
↳ You called the brainstorming off early, rushing to help Tammy find just the right dress later that afternoon as she thanked you for assisting with the wedding planing (already fed up with Lady Sabrina's input into the event- though she was funding a large portion of it due to Freddys... interesting resume).
↳ Wedding dress shopping happened later that spring as you teared up seeing the woman in white. Helping her into your exclusively design accessories and veil. Later that day, you third-wheeled the couple during cake testing- eating double of your weight in sweets as your teeth ached afterwards.
↳ During the bridal party. You all got dressed up in small red dresses and matching heels as you style one another's hair and got your nails done for the evening. You all went to a bar to start of the week strong, you had never felt so carefree and young after the countless sleepless nights of being a CEO and Doctorate student- you really let yourself go that night. Waking up in the bed of a stranger who wrapped their muscled arm over your waist.
Trying to wiggle your way out of their grip and find your various articles of clothing spread round the downtown flat, you ended up stealing one of their shirts- not bothering to look at the design plastered on the front as you placed your phone on to charge and started breakfast.
The oven dinged, the eggs were done as you put out a spread across the countertop before doing a light clean of last nights activities- doing your best to put away things where you thought they belonged and were stopped halfway by an arm pulling you back into their chest and placing a kiss against your forehead, "thank you, love. Didn't have to do any of this at all- I appreciate it very much."
A blush spread over your cheeks as you led them towards the still hots plates and ate together. There name was William from your foggy memories of last night. By the groaning the man in front of you was excepting while pouring himself a coffee, he seemed as well wasted as you were.
"Can I get you any Advil or orange juice?" William asks, placing a coffee in front of you with a smile as you wipe your mouth and take a small sip. "No, I'm alright." When washing up the dishes together, he offered to place your things in the wash while making small talk throughout and even going for a round three later that morning.
Becoming lost in the bubble you both formed for yourselves, hands casting through the short strands of dirty blonde hair that tickled your palms. Your heart dropped in the slightest bit when his phone rang as a show you were both listening to in the background was paused. He whispered a sorry towards you, patting your knee before taking a stand and walking over to the bedroom, you could only hear the start to the conversation, "Captain, everythin' alright?"
Deeming yourself overstaying your welcome, you walked towards the hall bathroom, preparing yourself for the next day and left a small note with your name attached, softly shutting the door behind you before leaning your forehead against it. A stupid smile showing itself across your features as your hands drifted through your contacts, landing on Charlottes picture as it dinged for a few moments.
"Girl, where the fuck have you been since last night?"
"I think I'm in love Char," you stated while the elevator doors closed behind you and the busy city streets awaited you.
--
↳ In the remaining days of the bridal party, you all rented out a vineyard, playing various lawn games with sunbathing by the pool. You subconsciously looked up towards the glass doors of the modern home- unknowing of what you were expecting before returning to your book, humming along to the radio as Tammy splashed you with her dive. Drawing a quick 10 score on your phones notes app and presenting it to her, Charlotte snorted and did a dive of her own as you all laughed and enjoyed the warm weather.
--
↳ Your did frown later that night when William had yet to text you, throwing your phone onto the bed. You really have to get yourself together, you thought to yourself- waiting here on some guy... some guy that treated me fairly. And in this day and age, it was a rare sight to find. Charlotte had already given you a major thumbs up as did the rest of your university friends and some of the past boyfriends you still kept in contact with. They all approved.
↳ Looking into your suitcase, you picked up Williams freshly washed shirt- you had forgotten to return it as your head drifted towards your phone. A perfect excuse to see him once more, your fingers drifted over the keys, breath paused on the send button before tapping the green arrow in a split second. Your adrenaline soared as you ruffled your hair, huffing out and looking at the shirt once more.
Your fingers drifted over the warn edges, pausing at the left breast pocket before your eyes went wide in shock. Displayed was the same coat of arms as Eddies regiment, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. Was all you could think, hands now gripping at your roots as that text now burred your phone and your mind. It was the night before the wedding at by the looks of it, you were going to be up with your thoughts.
--
↳ The day of the wedding at arrived, you smoothed out your dress as you waited in front of the large wooden doors to the Halstead estate. The wedding was being held in the gardens- now in full bloom as the first week of summer sprang into season. The blush pink complimented your rosy cheeks as you sweated lightly in the blissful heat, everyone had already been partnered up and as the maid of honour- you were more than worried that Freddy's best man had yet to appear
Much to your shock, Edward slowed his steps, feet tripping over the blood red rug beneath your feet as he stumbled to a straight stand by your side. He dropped his gaze down towards your shoes, taking a long drag up of your form before casting you a charming smile. The voices around you soon became muffled as your gaze fell onto his broad shoulders, the scar against his chin and you wondered if the scar you left from throwing a rock at his head while children's was still behind his ear in the same place you remembered it to be.
He wore a navy suit, crisp white shirt underneath as his tie held small pink flowers- perfectly matching your dress. He picked up your hand, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a light kiss to your gloved hand. You were ever-so thankful for purchasing the matching gloves in this moment, holding that the material hid your light shakes from his reassuring hold. His hand soon slipped up your arm. Breath hitching as strings began to play in the background.
His fingers drifted to the skin left uncovered by your tall gloves and dresses arm before looping his arm with your own. The doors soon opened as you both faced forward, smiles plastered on brightly as you walked in perfect rhythm down the isle. You looked towards one another, a few gasps being hear distantly in the crowd yet you couldn't bring your eyes to see where the sound came from. Arms dropping as you continued separately to your respective sides.
Looking up towards the clear blue skies, letting out a breath, your gaze turned to find Freddy looking at you, soft smile on his face as he gave you a singular nod before turning to his wife who began her walk down the isle. You took her bouquet, tears streaming down your eyes as you silently sobbed in happiness for the couple.
You clapped when they kissed, cheered as Freddy dipped her as Lady Sabrina tossed a comment on their outrageous display yet you haded her the bouquet as she shut her mouth abruptly, turning quickly behind to stare at your mother who was already watching as you and Eddie walked down the isle, arm and arm. Your gaze solely focused on the couple, unknowing to the man on your arm who stared at you the whole time- enamoured by your happiness as another stood in the back isle's, rose in hand they stole from the gardens as they waited for the festivities to start.
--
↳ As the first dance had finished and the cake had been cut, the DJ started to turn on the selected playlist and you headed straight to the bar in order to hug the newly weds who had a mission of getting absolutely wasted by the end of the night. After chatting with them for a few moments, a cough from behind you has your eyes going wide as does everyone else in the general area who stops to watch
You pause, drink slipping through your fingers as they catch it just in time with a smirk. "Hello, love," William speaks in hushed tones, knowing of the curious glances around you. Your eyes fly across the white warm-event weather uniform he wears. The sharp colour of his blue pants matching his eyes as your mouth soon falls agape. He takes a hand, lightly underneath your chin as he closes your mouth, pressing a kiss to the side of your lips.
Your eye's drift over to his shoulder, looking at his rank as you return a kiss to his cheek in greeting, now taking the barstool behind you as he leans against the bar top, taking his hat off and setting it between you. "Why hello there, Lieutenant," you say before taking a sip of your drink to gain some liquid courage as the eyes around you both begin to turn back to their personal conversations.
"You know my rank?" he questions with a raised brow as you shrug your shoulders. "Have close friends in the military as well, memorized all that chest candy," you state, eyes now darting across the metals he displays. Williams chuckles, ordering himself a drink as the bartender nods in confirmation as you both ease into conversation with one another.
--
↳ Eddie currently talks with his family as Freddy perks his interest. "Did you see that guy she's been talking to at the bar?- dude is seriously laying it on thick." Freddy rolls his eyes as you throw your head back in laughter, hand pressed against the white uniform as the man looks down to your touch with another teeth-filled smile. Charlotte shrugs, stealing a sip of Eddies drink as their mother quickly steals the wine glass from her and returns it to Eddies open hand who tries to peer over Freddys shoulder as he continues on and on about the bachelor party he had.
Eddies eyes go wide, seeing the white uniform, seeing you pressed up against another mans chest as he spins you lightly, eyeing you up and down and how your dress twirls at your feet as you get both of your glass topped off once more. His gaze hardens as he catches Williams face, his arm drifting around your waist, mouth pressed to your ear as he kisses your skin teasingly- eyes darting towards the door as you look up at him through your lashes.
Eddie's hands turn into fists, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to take a step forward yet Freddy still mindlessly talks as nobody is now listening as Charlotte begins to fill their mother in as she looks towards her son with concern. Hand ghosting on his arm that he has yet to take notice of. He watches as you bite your lip, pulling at his collar as you trace the seams of his uniform. Eddie lets out a sharp breath of air as he seems your lipstick begin to stain his skin, his mothers hand now tight against his arm as he stares down at it.
Charlotte shakes her hand, Sabrina now walking away to talk to your mother sat in the corner conversing with Tammy's parents. Freddy had finally taken notice of the lack of attention, returning to his wife's side as they stole bites from the cake before the official cutting. When Eddie turns back to see where you went, the bar is empty the door swinging closed as he speedily walks towards the hall only to find it empty both ways. As he begins to walk, a cough has him turning around to find Charlotte taking off her heels as she leans against the wall next to a suit of armour.
"Thought that you two were not together, no feelings right?" she presses, gaze determined as she slips off the last of her heels and begins to walk towards her brother who's shoulders only rise in their tensed form. He shakes himself off as she stands directly in front of him, shaking off his suit as he adjusts his suit-cuffs. "No, still is the case- just worried for my childhood friend is all."
"Alright, then..." Charlotte takes notice as his eyes keep darting back down the hall behind her, hope and hatred bleeding through his eyes as she smirk's, going in for the jab. "...If thats all you care about, he's a good man- that not right Captain?- They fucked a few times..." Charlotte presses her heels into her brothers chest as he keeps them there. His sister signals him to follow her outside as they begin to stroll towards the gardens all those Christmas's ago.
"She even told me she's in love with him-"
"What?" Edward asks in a breathy tone, his heart dropping as his sister continues walking further into the gardens and towards the centre fountain. "I warned you before Edwina, she's too good to have to wait so others take action. You had your time with her it seems, now it is time for someone else to take your place." She ends with a bittersweet smile. "You know... I always hoped she would become my actual sister- mom too but a best friend is better than nothing at all, right?"
The sharpness of her words twists itself deep in Edwards heart as he staggers, shoes dropped to the gravel beneath his feet, hands clenching at his tie that now seems too tight, his breathing laboured as he starts to see blood flashing on his hand and across his face. He hears your laughter filling his ears, the smell of your conditioner flooding his nose as it drifts off with the evening air.
--
↳ When Eddie returns to his work on boarder patrol, checking various people and their cars through the checkpoint. He enters the change-room at the end of every night, giving a nod and handing off his gun towards another officer who would be taking over the night patrol that evening.
↳ He often see's William changing as he enters, his shift ending 30 minutes before his own. He looks at the mans back, the angry red ail marks clawing their way up to his shoulders as the muscles his his back flex when a shirt covers up majority of the markings yet this shirt is old and warn. Having lost a great deal of his green colour, now a muted muddy colour as the neck hands low.
↳ Edward see's the the hickeys you undoubtedly left across his collarbones and neck, he recognizes that bite from the occasional moment you both shared as teenagers. William nods towards his superior officer outside of working hours. Picking up his jacket before moving to the sleeping quarters. Eddie sits on the centre bench, elbows against his knees, hands in his head as he grips and tugs at his hair. Frustration eating him alive as he imagines your touch, your lips against his own, the taste of your skin-
↳ Every day the same, every vacation time taken at a similar point as he notices a year afterwards the diamond ring hanging off Williams dog tags. He constant has been looking at it underneath his uniform throughout shifts, smiling before his mask returns as another car pulls forward. Eddies brain was struggling to come to cope with the images of that small ring hanging off Williams neck. He cursed himself alive as Freddy punched him square across the face when he drunkly ranted towards his brother a weekend he spent back home
↳ When he returned back to base, the ring he had around his dog tags was gone. William nodded towards the Captain as usual, that little display now irking him- pouring more fire into the gaping wound he sustained as the lieutenant paused. Face turning over his shoulder as eh spoke out into the empty change room, "I have been requested by management to switch towards the front lines... It has been a pleasure working with you sir. I wish you the best."
"Thank you, William. Do take care of her," Eddie states, looking at him square in the eyes. "Till the day she loves me no longer and afterwards," William promises before gently closing the door behind himself. Eddie does now feel himself crying before he calls his mother, not saying a word as he cries, she cries, as he can feel his fathers disappointment, his sisters distaste, and Eddies side remarks.
↳ But why stop at that? Eddie was soon being called back for your engagement photo, he glared at the ring on your finger. It's small for a jeweller, he thinks to himself yet had already bought the ticket, a gift and written a card voicing his congratulations to you both.
--
↳ Edward was beyond confused to walk into the empty venue space a few months later. Handmade stars hug above his head, a tray of champagne by his feet as the lights were dimmed, the afternoon sun finding its way through the blinds casting patterns onto the hardwood floors beneath. In his steps, the floors creaked as your tearstained face meet his eyes. He walked faster, taking a kneel beside you as you flung yourself into his chest as he dropped the gift, kicking it aside and held you tightly to himself. Hands beginning to drift through your hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
He felt your tears staining his sweater, the rapid spikes of your shoulders as you sharply breathed between sobs. "H-He, He cheated on me! I fuckin' love another man and he cheats on me!" you wail, shaking your head into his neck as he rubs your back. Eddie holds himself from question the slight hope at, love another man.
"I am sorry to hear that darling, you are the most underserving person of such treatment I know. Downright motherfucker," Eddie whispers into your hair before you fall backwards, tugging Eddie by his shoulders to join you laying on the floors. You both stare up into the various stars coating the ceiling as you squeeze your hand in his own larger one.
A few moments pass as you listen to each other breathe in the empty room. Rain slowly begins to fall against the window panes as you turn your head to already find Eddie look at you with a soft smile. "Thank you, Eddie, for staying here with me... you're the best friend I could ever ask for," you speak out softly, hand resting on his cheek as he turns his head to kiss your palm.
"Always."
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(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)
↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly
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navybrat817 · 3 months
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My muse: Only One Bed, may I introduce you to Sunshine and Grumpy?
Me: Is that really necessary for-
My muse: Um, your job is to type. Thanks.
Me: ...
My muse: I'm sorry.
Me: It's okay.
My muse: No, that was bitchy. Been a long week, but I shouldn't take it out on you.
Me: All good. I get it. Really.
My muse: So... We're cool? Only One Bed and Sunshine and Grumpy?
Me: Yeah, we're cool. Go wild.
My muse: At your pace, of course. Take all the time you need. You're doing great.
Me: Thanks. You, too.
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ravencincaide · 4 months
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Between 7th and 9th street 
Summary: There was a secret room in the very back of the gentlemans club. It was a room Chuuya never mentioned and you never asked about- or else you’d end up giving yourself away. OR what happens in a gentlemans club stays in a gentlemans club. 
Pairing: Fem!reader x Chuuya 
Inspired by Kinktober prompt 9: Glory hole 
Warnings: 18 + minors DNI! Gloryhole, Blow and handjob, inexperienced-kinda, male orgasm, hint at prostitution and hint at infidelity- kinda, hint at old stereotypical norms concerning women, chastity, virginity and marriage, cursing and lies.
Enjoy~
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You knew his schedule like the back of your hand. 
You knew how long each mission lasted just from its description; how many minutes or hours were spent as active fighting and planning time- and how much was just wasted away on bickering, talking, slacking or doing some other ungodly thing under the disguise of a job. You knew how long each meeting took- how many minutes each subordinate would dare to speak before they’d get uncomfortable under their bosses stern gaze and fiery temper.
You knew Chuuya Nakahara like the back of your hand- better than he knew himself.  
So it was only natural you would know what happened every Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. To be fair, Chuuya wasn’t hiding it from you either.  
Not the fact that he was going to the gentlemans club after work before he’d finally come home in the wee hours of the evening or night. In fact he was always open to talk about the men he’d meet there, the cigars he’d buy, the alcohol he’d drink and the deals he’d make. No, he’ll tell that to you even without you asking. Intertwined the details of the less formal part of his work in between sweet praises and claims of love; of how much he missed you. 
You knew however that there was one thing he was hiding from you. A little obscured room in the very back of the gentlemen's club which, at first glance looked like any other room for rent for those too intoxicated to go home for the night; A dimly lit place with a simple bed, a desk with a matching wooden chair and a bookshelf. However there was an odd corner of the room. Completely bare but for a serving trolly on wheels with several bottles of alcohol and matching glasses, and an unopened box of cigarettes. An ashtray and a box of tissues.  Underneath the cigarettes there was an inconspicuous condom or two. Pulling the wagon away from the wall would reveal a single round hole, no bigger than 6 or 8 inches in diameter leading into darkness. 
This was a room that Chuuya never mentioned to you and you never asked about: or else you’d end up giving yourself away. 
You used one of the back entrances to get to the gentlemans club; a little scruffy door in a tiny side alleyway between the 7th and 9ths street that was primarily used for deliveries and kitchen staff. Your little heels click-clacked against the polish marble floors as you quickly made your way through the different levels of the mansion. You kept your head low, hood pulled up and gaze fixed on the floor, pausing only to duck behind a crevasse or hidden passage whenever you heard someone approaching. You hid until they were gone then continued your fast pace towards the obscured room in the very back. Then you walked right past it, to the only door beside it. 
Entering the shoebox sized room, you closed and locked the door behind you before pressing your ear to it, listening intensely for the sound of familiar footsteps. A few minutes later you heard them; the faint clacking of fancy shoes as they made their way towards the obscure room. A slight pause and a swoosh of his coat- no doubt checking that he was not followed- before the door behind the wall opened and then closed shut. Then a faint echo of the lock clicking into place. 
You moved away from the door and moved to take your coat off, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Then you pulled off your dress, having it join your coat. Your bra followed. Wrapping your hands around your breasts you stayed where you were, safely out of sight while silently listening to the commotion on the other side of the wall. 
Pacing, cursing, drinking. Then finally the screech of the metal serving cart as it was pulled away from the wall. A shuffle of clothes, then more curses. Then the sound of money clanging against the floor on your side of the wall, followed shortly by a half erect cock with attached balls pushed through the circular hole. 
You recognized it as Chuuya’s instantly; the tiny birthmark on the very base being a dead give away.  You swallowed thickly before quietly inching closer. But you were not fast enough as you heard his low, menacing growl. 
“ Come on, be a good slut and take it” Chuuya’s voice resonated, loud, firm and unkind. Without a hint of sweetness. Almost as if he was addressing a bug. Like every word he spoke was wasted on you. “ You know you wanna rub it and suck it; that’s all a cheap whore like you is good for anyways”
You dropped on your knees in front of his lengths and teased him ever so slightly with your hot breath. You watched his dick twitch in anticipation, an alluring sight that filled your mind with all sorts of naughty ideas. The weight of it in your hand- the taste of it between your lips. Having it push down the back of your throat or spraying hot cum all over your face and bare tits. Your hands gripped your breasts tighter, massaging the skin.  Unable to stop yourself you ran the tip of your tongue over his slit, focusing on the smooth mushroom head, then down his shaft, finding a vein you trailed it all the way down his base, then licked at his balls.
“ No, No! Pretend to be awkward with it. Like you’ve never given head before. Make me believe it damn it–” Chuuya ordered, his palm hitting the thin wall separating you two in warning. He hit the wall again when you  weren’t quick enough to comply. 
You raised your eyebrow at his request then shook your head at your own curiosity. Asking questions would give you away- your only option was to shut up and do.  
You pulled your tongue back before licking your lips. You made him wait a few seconds- until he shifted uncomfortably behind the wall. Then you gave his lengths a careful lick, pulled back, then another more bold one focusing on the tip of him. 
“ Ahh yes my love!“ You heard Chuuya moan behind the wall. You could picture him, standing there, arm against the wall, forehead rested on top of it. Eyes closed, licking his lips, trying to keep his desires composed. You could guess what he was imagining. The sounds he made pulled your lips up into a small smile. 
Carefully you took the tip of him between your lips and ran your tongue all around his head in circular motion. 
 “yes, yes Y/N” Chuuya groaned quietly, barely loud enough for you to hear. You pulled his cock out of your mouth and gripped it with both of your hands, doing your best to mimic an awkward handjob; you moved them up and down, more carefully stroking than tugging. Only occasionally twisting or squeezing. Sometimes you’d grip too tightly then seeming to realize your mistake your touch would grow feather light. 
This earned you a loud groan from Chuuya, a frustrated, almost tortured sound. “ You’re doing great” he lied through squeezed teeth “ Just like that, you can be a bit bolder with it- grip it”  
You pretended to be uncertain before tightening your hands slightly, gripping his lengths tightly as you moved them slowly up and down. You heard a much more satisfied groan from Chuuya, felt him buck his hips into your touch. You moved closer to his dick, breathing hot breath onto the tip. Watching drops of pre-cum form as you teased his mind- reminding him of the warms of your mouth. 
You heard a breathy chuckle then a whisper;“ Don’t be afraid of it my love, taste it” Chuuya urged. With no hesitation you let one hand go and wrapped your lips around the tip. Your hand dropped down to your nipples, playing with the first one then the second round bud. You shuddered, spreading your legs as you felt the unbearable heat between them starting to get to you. 
“ Oh yes baby– see? it doesn’t taste much. Go on now baby–mmm yes like that” Chuuya’s gasps and groans made you take more of him in your mouth. Your other hand finally falling away from him and digging into your thigh in a desperate attempt to remind yourself not to moan. He’d recognize you in an instant– but you were so wet. So needy for him. The only thing you could think about was burying his dick deep in your pussy. But you couldn’t- not yet. Not now. You needed to wait a little longer. 
In desperate need you took the lengths of him in your mouth, gagging as he brushed against the back of your throat. Tears in your eyes, you pulled him back before taking him again as deep as you could. Sucking and licking his dick while your hips humped the air desperate need. Feeling the material of your panties just barely ghosting over your folds, making you want to scream and cry at once. You stopped yourself by sucking him harder trying not to think too hard about how he’d feel balls deep inside you. 
“ ah-My sweet girl, you're driving me nuts.” You heard Chuuya bang his fist against the wall making you startle and jump back slightly. An angry, almost desperate tone filled his voice; “ No, No! Don’t stop- don’t even think about stopping Y/N!” 
The way he moaned your name made it worse for you; made you that much wetter. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take. How much longer until you broke and gave yourself away, begging him to come through that wall and fuck you properly. Biting back a groan of desperation you focused your mind on taking more of him between your lips, quick and sloppy; licking and sucking. Both of your hands working on the rest of him that didn’t fit in your mouth. You set a rough, almost brutal pace. Alternating between deepthroating and buzzing around his tip with your lips and tongue. 
As he thrusted back into your mouth, you could tell he was close. Could feel him tensing, his cock twitching with the carnal need to fill your mouth with his burning hot seed. His desire- for you. A desire he screamed as he came, then kept cooing as he rode out his orgasm. “ Ahh Y/N!” Chuuya moaned as his cock finally softened and he pulled it out of your lips. A trail of cum and saliva followed, spilling all over your chest and tits. The sight made you crave more, made you rub the sticky seed into your skin. If this was how his cum tasted and felt on your tits, you couldn’t wait until he’d finally fill your pussy with it. Cum in you and breed you, like a proper whore. You wanted another round- this time with more of his seed on your face and body. 
You heard Chuuya take a shaky breath making you lick your lips in anticipation. Then you bit back your growl of frustration as he spoke; 
“ You’re a decent whore” Chuuya spat, pulling his dick back through the hole. You suppressed a needy whine not ready to call it a day yet. Instead you kept sitting on your knees- hoping he’d change his mind. You heard the opening of a box, shuffling of paper then the click of a lighter. The smell of cigarette smoke filled your senses making you shift even more needlily on your knees. 
“ If you ever speak of this to anyone, I’ll kill you” Chuuya muttered then to motivate your silence and tossed another large bill  carelessly at you through the hole. “ Now get out of my sight- you disgusting wench” 
Realizing he was done with you, you quickly collected the money then rushed to put your clothes on. You knew better than to linger; a moment of fleeting desire was not worth the price it would cost you. Thus you were the first one to leave: opening and shutting the door quietly behind yourself. Barely missing the sound of Chuuya’s fist hitting the wall accompanied with the loud yell of frustration. 
You made a mental note to prepare an ice pack or two for him once you got home. 
At home you were quick to take a shower, being careful to remove any and all traces of Chuuya on you. Then you brushed your teeth and applied the tiniest bit of makeup to hide your puffy lips. A splash of perfume to mask any possible reminiscence of the gentlemans club and cigarette smoke. You looked like nothing happened. Still you were cautious; you soaked the clothes you wore in soapy water and poured the tiniest splash of blue on the rim of the buckets as if you were testing out a new clothing dye. This way you could be sure Chuuya wouldn’t go snooping. 
Then you rushed into the kitchen to continue with the dinner you started preparing earlier that morning, not forgetting to restock the ice packs in your freezer. You were almost done with dinner when you heard the key turning in the lock. Your heart skipped a beat and you silently glanced at the mirror on the opposite side of the room, making sure you looked normal. Clothes ironed and fresh, hair clean and put up in a bun and the most subtle hints of make up which hid any and all indecent traces on your body. 
You tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear as you heard Chuuya enter the hallway with a low hungry moan; “ Oh god it smells so good, love ” he called from the hallway, rushing to take his coat, shoes and hat off. “ You have no idea how hungry I am, work was fucking brutal today!” 
“ Oh you’re right on time, love! My parents are joining us for dinner- father wants to discuss the finalities of our engagement; and mother had some concerns about the priest we picked for the ceremony” you smiled as you checked one last time on the simmering pots- tonight's festive dinner, feeling pretty proud of how the food looked and how well timed it was. 
Then you paused before letting out a shy giggle as you heard your fiance sneak up behind you. You laughed out loud as you felt Chuuya wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “ I missed you so much sweetheart; you were on my mind all day. The only thing I could think about was you, holding you, coming home to you” Chuuya cooed his arms brushing against the metal of your chastity belt. Feeling it through your dress he let out a low sigh of frustration “ I can’t wait until we’re married sweets, then you’ll be finally free of the damned belt” 
You smiled a little and leaned more of your weight against him, salvaging the closeness, ignoring the subtle sexual hint he made. Ohh if only he knew how much you wanted to be rid of that belt- then maybe he wouldn’t pretend to be so gentle and subtle. Instead of agitating him you plastered a chappy tone of voice; “Still we’re lucky my parents let me move in with you before marriage- a chastity belt seems a small price to pay in comparison.” Before you could continue this discussion you deliberately reached down to take his hand in your own. You gaped as you saw the deep cut, the swelling and the bruise. 
 It seems he had not just slammed his fist against the wall -- but rather punched through it
“ Chuuya  you’re hurt, what happened?” Your voice carried genuine worry  as you moved to pry yourself away from him to get the first aid kit and the already-prepared ice packs from the freezer. Chuuya was quick to halt your movements, tightening his arms around you, keeping you locked to his chest. The action confused you; “Chuuya, love?” 
You heard him let out a low groan and bury his face further into your neck. “ It’s nothing sweetheart, I just lost my temper at the gentlemans club- there were so many frustrating people there, and no decent smokes either! You should have seen all those newbies whining about such mundane and stupid things- and the ungrateful old farts.. No, dollface, when we’re married you’re going to come with me and see just how frustrating and idiotic that place is!” Chuuya complained, his voice shaky, words rushed as if he was trying to persuade the both of you that all those upper class snobs and petty criminals were the reason behind his anger. 
You laughed and shook your head ever so slightly, slowly beginning to rock back and forth in a feeble attempt to inch closer to the stove and stir the food. You couldn’t force him to let you treat his hand- but you would be damned if you were going to let him ruin dinner. 
Chuuya followed your every movement, refusing to let you go. If anything he clung tighter to you- as though afraid you were going to disappear on him. 
So cuddly and desperate for you, for a sliver of your affection. It reminded you just how much you loved this man.  You felt your heart soaring as he pressed a kiss and then another to your clothed shoulder, a bubbly laughter spilling past your lips as you finally answered him. “ Love you know wives aren’t allowed in the gentlemen's clubs- that is the whole point of them!” 
Still the offer filled you with warmth, and cemented your sentiment to never speak about the little obscured room in the very back of the gentlemen's club and what happened there. At least until Chuuya broke the silence first.. 
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the assistant ~ raymond smith;the gentlemen
word count: 2600
request?: no
description: in which mickey hires a new assistant to help out with his business, and his right hand man finds himself falling in love
pairing: raymond smith x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of violence
masterlist (one, two)
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The first time Raymond ever met (Y/N) was at Mickey’s house. She appeared suddenly in the doorway to Mickey’s office while he was in a meeting with Ray. He was taken by surprise at the unfamiliar person, but more so he was taken back by the beauty of the unfamiliar person.
“You have a message from Rosalind,” she said to Mickey. She was looking right through Ray as if he wasn’t in the room.
“What is it?” Mickey asked.
“She said some bloke came into the shop to give her expensive parts, but in return he’s asking for a meeting with you.”
Mickey’s face darkened. Everyone knew that it didn’t matter what you did in terms of Mickey’s money or his business, but you did not, under any circumstances, fuck with his wife.
“Why wouldn’t he just approach me himself?” Mickey asked, his voice laced with venom.
“Whoever it was knows that approaching Rosalind will get your attention,” Ray commented.
“It’ll get a bullet between his fucking eyes,” Mickey muttered. “Did he leave a phone number?”
(Y/N) crossed the room, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. Ray’s eyes followed her every movement. As she got closer, he could smell the sweet scent of her perfume. When she reached around him to put the slip of paper on Mickey’s desk, she turned to meet his eye. His breath was taken away by her sheer beauty.
When she smiled at him, it was like the whole world around him melted away.
Mickey noticed the look between them and smirked. “Ray, this is (Y/N). She’s mine and Rosalind’s new assistant. She’s going to be helping around with both of the businesses.”
Ray offered a hand to (Y/N). “Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she said, shaking his hand. She returned her attention back to their boss to ask, “Should we follow up on this mystery caller?”
Mickey stared long and hard at the phone number left. Both Ray and (Y/N) could see the gears turning in his head. The number of outcomes if the meeting happened running through his head; the question as to whether or not it was the right decision to hold the meeting.
“If I may,” (Y/N) interjected. “If this mystery caller is bold enough to go to the shop to approach Rosalind once, what’s to stop him from doing it again? At least if you set up this meeting with him you can assure him that the next time he sets foot in that shop or he has any communication with Rosalind, he will regret it.”
Ray peered over at Mickey. An impressed look was on his face, a smile tugging at his lips. He extended the slip back to her.
“Call him and set up a meeting for tomorrow at noon.”
“The usual location?” (Y/N) asked. Mickey nodded. “Yes, sir.” She smiled at Raymond again. “See you around, Raymond.”
~~~~~~
The next time Ray saw (Y/N) was at the meeting the next day. She escorted Dry Eye, one of mobster Lord George’s men, into the meeting room. Ray tried not to stare, but it was a struggle. She was wearing a button up blouse tucked into a mini skirt, with knee high black heeled boots. She was showing off every curve and Ray was taking in every single inch of her.
“Mr. Pearson, Dry Eye has arrived,” she announced.
“Thank you, (Y/N),” Mickey dismissed her.
Ray expected her to leave the room and was pleasantly shocked when she opted to come sit next to him at a small table in the back of the room.
“Pour me a cup?” she asked, gesturing towards the boiling kettle and Ray’s own cup of tea.
He did as she asked, grabbing an empty cup, placing a tea bag into it then filling it with the boiling water. She added a splash of milk and two sugars, stirring until the dark liquid became a milky brown color. She raised the cup to her lips, blowing gently to cool it down. She peered up at Ray through her long eyelashes, and he was convinced she was trying to get his blood running to one particular region in his body.
“So,” he asked in a hushed voice as not to disturb Mickey’s meeting, “how did you come about becoming Michael’s assistant?”
“He had a couple posting around town. ‘Wanted: Someone with experience in organization and business. No questions to be asked until after hiring. NDA is required. Call here if interested’.”
Ray chuckled. “Well, that’s not forboding at all.”
“What can I say? I was interested.”
She smirked as she sipped her tea. Ray couldn’t help but smile back at her.
“Besides, it sounded exciting. My life has been so standard thus far. I wanted some excitement.”
“Well.” Ray looked over his shoulder at the stare off between a furious looking Dry Eye and a stoic Mickey. “There’s no shortage of excitement here.”
Before (Y/N) could respond, Dry Eye and his accomplice stood, drawing their attention back to the meeting. (Y/N) stood as well, intending to walk the two men out, but they left on their own in a huff.
“That went well,” Mickey commented. “I have a feeling that won’t be the last we see of Dry Eye.”
“Interesting that you have two potential investors in your business,” Ray said. “You think there’s a connection there?”
“There’s always a connection Raymond.” Mickey finished his cup of tea and stood from his seat. “(Y/N), make Roger aware of Dry Eye’s intentions and tell him he has the right to use force if Dry Eye ever dares to enter Rosalind’s business again.”
“Yes sir,” (Y/N) responded. “Anything else you need today?”
“No, after that you’re free to have the evening off. Maybe you can keep Ray company so he’ll stop eye fucking you every time you walk into the room.”
Ray’s face was on fire as (Y/N) giggled and Mickey gave him a knowing smile. Their boss left the room first, striking a match to light his cigarette as he went. (Y/N) started to go behind him, but Ray reached out to stop her.
“Listen, um...” She was watching him, expectantly. Ray was never one to be at a loss for words, but her presence alone made him feel like a babbling idiot. “If you don’t have anything planned for your evening, I’d like to have you over to mine for dinner tonight.”
“What did you have in mind?”
I recently had a new barbie installed, and I have some premium grade Wagyu in my freezer. If you like steak, I mean.”
She considered it for a moment before deciding, “I’ll get your number from Ros. You can text me a time and location.”
Ray nodded, an excited smile trying to spread across his face. (Y/N) smiled at him and turned to leave the room, swinging her hips as she went along. Ray couldn’t help but watch her, his anticipation for that night growing.
~~~~~~
Ray was in the process of marinating the steaks and prepping the vegetables when the doorbell rang. He was quick to wash off his hands and nearly run to answer it. (Y/N) was stood waiting, having changed out of her professional attire from the day into a pair of black leggings and a knit jumper. She looked ready for a comfortable dinner in, which Ray was glad for as he himself hadn’t dressed up much for the occasion.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello,” she responded. “I can already smell dinner.”
“Don’t get too hungry yet. I haven’t put the steaks on the barbie yet. I was waiting for you to arrive first.”
(Y/N) stepped into his home. As she followed him to the kitchen, she took in the massive house. She knew Mickey paid well so she shouldn’t have been so shocked - especially considering the size of Mickey’s own home - but for some reason she wasn’t expecting Ray to live somewhere so big and lavish. It made her tiny apartment very inferior.
“Did you need help preparing anything?” she asked. “I’m not a stellar cook, but I know how to chop veggies.”
“No need for that at all. You’re a guest in my house, therefore you do nothing except sit there and look pretty.”
(Y/N) sat at the island, a small smile on her face. “Well, I am very good at that second part.”
“I can tell.” Ray poured them both a glass of red wine. “I hope you like red. I find it’s what pairs best with a nice steak dinner.”
“I’m not too particular with my wines,” she said. “Although I don’t believe I’ve had this kind before. Looks far too expensive for my usual tastes.”
Ray chuckled. “It’s a bottle Mickey got me when I first moved in as a housewarming gift. I’m normally one for scotch, but like I said, a nice steak dinner with a beautiful lady requires a bottle of red wine.”
(Y/N) took a sip from her glass to hide how flustered she felt. So far, this was gearing up to be one of the best dates she had ever been on: he brought her over to his house so he could cook for them, he had the perfect wine pairing for their dinner, and he was throwing out compliments left and right. It worked greatly in his favor that he was one of the most handsome men she had ever met. She might never want to leave.
Once the steaks had finished marinating, Ray took (Y/N) out to his backyard to show her his new barbie. It was brick laid, designed to look more like a table than a barbie, and the fire from inside of it also heated up underneath the table. When Ray lit it, (Y/N) could already feel the warmth radiating from it from where she sat.
Oh, I could really get used to this, she thought.
She watched Ray cook in silence. She knew not to interrupt the chef when he was working his magic, and in general she was just enjoying watching him work. He was so focused, making sure the steaks were cooked perfectly all the way through before serving them on a plate garnished with the vegetables he had made inside.
“Voila,” he said as he laid a plate in front of (Y/N). “Dinner is served.”
“God, this smells so good,” she said. “Might have to keep you as my own personal chef.”
“Don’t say that before you try it. I could be a garbage chef and I’m just impressing you with wine and my good looks.”
The cocky smile on his face told (Y/N) that Ray knew he was a very good cook.
He sat across from her at the table and they began to eat. The moment the Wagyu touched her tastebuds, (Y/N) felt like she was in heaven. It made sense to her now why this cut of steak cost so much money; it was probably the best cut of meat she had ever eaten in her life. She would gladly pay hundreds for this type of meal. Especially if Ray was the one cooking for her again.
“I think this is the best thing I have ever eaten in my life,” she said.
Ray was beaming with pride. “I passed the test, then?”
“With flying colors. I can’t let you get away. Men who can cook this well are one in a million these days.”
The two were dreading the small talk that usually came with a first date, but as silence fell upon them while they ate, they realized there was no escaping the inevitable. (Y/N) decided to be the one to break the silence by asking, “So, how long have you been working with Michael?”
“Since the beginning,” Ray responded. “I knew him in uni.”
“So you’re an Oxford man?”
“You’ve done your research.”
(Y/N) shrugged. “When you get hired to work for a technical drug dealer, you may as well know as much about the man as you can find out. Decide whether or not it’s going to be a dangerous business.”
“It’s not as dangerous as you’d think. Besides the threat of being arrested.”
She grimaced. That was the one thing she was worried about, but Mickey seemed to be professional enough that he hadn’t been caught thus far.
“Where did you go to uni?” Ray asked.
“I didn’t. I wasn’t smart enough to get accepted anywhere,” (Y/N) responded.
“I find that surprising.”
She smiled. “I appreciate that. I’ve cleaned up my act a lot now, but when I was in school I was very much a troublemaker. Didn’t have any time for school or learning, mainly because I didn’t understand a bloody thing they were trying to teach. I had no desires to go and do post secondary to get a degree that I may never find a job for. I’ve worked at McDonald’s with people who did five years for that silly piece of paper, and they’re not any better than I am.”
“Well, you are working as assistant to one of the most successful business men in London, so I think it’s safe to say they are definitely no better than you are.”
(Y/N) giggled. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine or Ray’s compliments, or both, but she was starting to feel flushed. She wondered if he could see how he was making her feel.
At some point, after their food was gone and the wine was running low, (Y/N) found herself on the same side of the table as Ray. She was definitely feeling good from the amount of wine she had drank, and being close to him felt just as intoxicating.
“I’ve had a really, really good night Ray,” she told him. “I haven’t had such a good time on a date in years.”
“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed yourself. Does that mean we could do this again sometime?”
(Y/N) looked up at him. She looked into his blue eyes before peering down at his lips for a quick moment. Sensing what was to come, Ray leaned in just as (Y/N) did and their lips collided. Sparks of electricity ran through (Y/N)’s body, and she was sure it wasn’t the alcohol making her feel that way.
She leaned into Ray’s kiss until she was nearly on his lap. At which point, Ray took hold of her thighs and brought her over to straddle his lap. His hands gently cupped her face while hers ran through his hair. He tested her boundaries by running his tongue along her lips. When she opened them, he plunged his tongue into her mouth.
When they finally managed to break away from one another they were both panting. (Y/N) rested her forehead against Ray’s, both of them with mirroring smiles on their faces.
“Would you like to stay the night?” Ray asked. “No funny business, but I do have a very large bed that feels quite empty when I’m alone.”
“I would love to, but keep that promise of no funny business in mind. I’m not the type to take my clothes off on the first date.”
Ray smiled and ran his fingers through her soft hair. “I’d never dream of crossing your boundaries, love.”
Oh my God, he has to stop being so perfect, (Y/N) thought as she got off Ray’s lap and followed him back into his house for the night.
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eddiesxangel · 5 months
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THIS IS SO EDDIE CODED FR
The wall jump!!! The opening the door for her!!!!!
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tvshowgirl81 · 1 month
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The lack of Theo James X Reader on here needs to change. Thank you :)
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The Lady - 5
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Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader
Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , -
I'd really appreciate it if anyone who likes this series could leave a comment or reblog with a GIF.
Could you let me know what your thoughts are? Reblogs and comments are the main things that keep me posting new stories. ❤️❤️❤️
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"Oh my god. Oh my god. What am I going to do?" You paced back and forth, your mind racing with worry.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk replaced with a concerned frown. "Why are you the one stressed out?" He assured you that you wouldn't have to deal with dirty work.
This was the first time Bucky had seen you lose your composure.
You grabbed his collar, desperation evident in your eyes. "You don't understand, the last person I want to deal with is my stepsister."
Returning home, you realized that if there was an investigation, your job profession could make you a suspect, too.
Trying to calm you down, Bucky suggested, "For the alibi, if anyone asks, just say that you were with me."
You scoffed, feeling frustrated. "Like they're going to believe that I wanted to spend a day with you."
Everyone in your household knew how annoyed you were with Bucky. On numerous occasions, they had heard you complain about him to Cedric, the family lawyer.
You were quiet as you picked up the phone to make a call.
"Y/N?"
The sound of his voice brought a sense of calm over you. "I need your help."
"I'll be there."
A few hours later...
Bucky chimed in with his usual teasing tone. "Ooh, so you choose him over me?"
You rolled your eyes while Eddie checked on you.
Eddie interjected, "Her family will believe me if she spends the night with me."
Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words.
"But there's something missing," Eddie continued.
"What?" you asked.
"They won't believe it if you only say it was a sleepover," Eddie explained.
"What are you trying to say?" you inquired.
Bucky caught on. "Hangover."
Eddie nodded in agreement. "You have to make yourself look hungover. That strengthens your alibi."
"Right," you acknowledged.
Bucky rolled his eyes, realizing that he had suggested the idea first, but you were only listening to Eddie.
"Perfect. I have plenty of alcohol here. What do you want to drink?" Bucky offered.
You replied confidently, "Start with the strongest."
"Yes," Bucky agreed.
After downing three shots of vodka, you started to lose yourself in the night. With the alcohol, the music, and the vibrant atmosphere of Bucky's club, you found yourself enjoying the moment and forgetting about your troubles.
######
As you awakened, the sensation of your stomach churning made you groan. It felt as if your insides had shifted, causing discomfort to spread throughout your body.
Slowly, you managed to sit up, only to discover that you were sprawled atop Eddie, who was still fast asleep and holding you close. Relief washed over you as you realized that both of you were still fully clothed.
However, the memories of the previous night flooded back, each one hitting you with increasing clarity.
"You're awake?"
Your eyes widened at the sound of Bucky's voice. Glancing over, you saw him standing nearby, his shirt rumpled and a distinct lipstick stain marking his lips.
A wave of nausea swept over you, prompting you to grab the nearby champagne bucket and empty its contents in a fit of vomiting.
"Urggh."
Bucky's remark cut through the haze of your discomfort. "Well, that hurts my feelings. You see my face and vomit."
"Urrghh," you groaned, the sickness still plaguing you.
Eddie winced, his hand moving to massage his throbbing head. "What kind of drink did you give us last night, Barnes?"
Bucky shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It's a new drink I picked up from a celebrity brand."
Eddie chuckled ruefully. "That explains everything."
He rose from his makeshift bed and reached over to pat your shoulder gently. You noticed a faded lipstick stain on his lips, the same color as yours. A blush crept up your cheeks as you realized the implications of the matching marks.
Meanwhile, the incessant ringing of your phone filled the air, causing your head to throb even more.
"Ring, ring."
You cringed, covering your ears to block the sound, but Eddie took the initiative to answer.
"77 missed calls," he informed you.
You grabbed your phone, reluctantly answering the next call.
"Where the hell are you?!!!" your mother's voice pierced through the line.
You sighed. "Mom, don't scream."
"What—? Are you drunk right now? Come home now. Your sister's fiancé died."
You negotiated, "Give me 2 hours."
"One hour."
Turning to the two men beside you, you sought their reassurance. "Do you think they're going to believe me?"
Eddie, suppressing a burp, offered some confidence. "I believe so. You rarely get drunk, and you have a reasonable reason after your fight with Charlotte."
Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, how do you know about me and her?"
Bucky yawned lazily. "You spilled the beans last night."
You were shocked.
Bucky leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he added, "You spilled your guts about how you missed your stepdad, how your mother missed your birthday for five years straight, and how you had a row with your stepsister."
Eddie chimed in, his expression sympathetic as he confessed, "I did try to stop you."
You sighed heavily, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. "Oh no."
Bucky, ever the opportunist, concluded, "But it supports your alibi, since half the club heard your sob story."
You couldn't help but huff in frustration, feeling the bile rising in your throat once more. "Great."
Amidst the conversation, Bucky's smirk only widened while Eddie wore a more concerned expression, his brow furrowed in sympathy.
Your body language betrayed your discomfort, with tense shoulders and a hand clutching your churning stomach, while your eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape from the mess you found yourself in.
########
Watching everyone in grief, especially Charlotte, who was sobbing as she watched her fiancé's casket being lowered into the ground. Charles stood beside her, offering what comfort he could.
Susan stood next to you, her voice barely above a whisper, "Give me one thing that would justify your actions."
She sounded grief-stricken seeing Charlotte cry like that, but she seemed oblivious to your own stress.
Wearing sunglasses to hide your red, teary eyes, you replied softly, "He cheated on her."
Susan clenched her fist, her anger palpable. "Good, he deserved it then."
After the funeral, you found yourself face-to-face with Bucky once again. With a roll of your eyes, you couldn't help but remark, "Now I feel like you're the angel of death."
Bucky merely smirked, seemingly unfazed by your comment. "I'm here to meet my client."
Drawing closer to him, you whispered, "You mean the one who ordered the hit on the prince?"
A nod from Bucky confirmed your suspicion, and he subtly gestured towards a woman standing on the fringes of the grieving family.
Your eyes widened in recognition. "Rosie?" Memories of encounters with her during summers spent at Eddie's manor flooded your mind.
Bucky's response was chillingly matter-of-fact. "You know her? Great. She's only paid half. The other half hasn't come through yet."
Your incredulity peaked. "Are you kidding me? Right now?"
You attempted to intervene, but your attention was diverted when you noticed Eddie approaching Rosie.
Bucky's voice cut through the tension with a teasing tone. "Oh-oh. Someone's jealous."
You shot him a glare, cursing inwardly. If even someone like Bucky could pick up on it, then your feelings must be glaringly obvious.
With a dismissive shrug, you replied, "It's just an old crush."
Bucky's smirk widened as he observed your reaction. "Seeing you like this makes me want to tease you more, Your Grace."
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Text
To a Tea 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 
Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 
18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 
Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.
Character:  Raymond Smith
The title is a pun, don't @ me.
Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 
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“He’s here,” Jenna’s warning brings you attention away from siphoning what’s left off the peppermint leaves into the fresh tin. 
You glance over without any other directive. He always waits in that same spot. Even if the table’s empty, he doesn’t sit right away. You give you co-worker a look and smile as you put the lid on the tin and slide it out of the way. 
You wash your hands thoroughly before you grab the cylinder of disinfecting wipes and sweep around the end of the counter. You step out onto the tea room floor as his eyes find you, expecting you. You’ve adjusted to his ritual, almost compelled to it. 
“Hello, Raymond,” you great as you approach the empty table for two where he sits with his back to the wall and his eyes towards the door. 
“Miss,” he greets in his way. 
He’s a bit uptight. Others might say worse but once you learn his quirks, he’s very human. Even if everything else about him is mysterious. 
Sometimes you build stories about him in his head. His glasses, his neatly styled hair, and his combed beard suggest a man with an eye for his appearance. His suits might be better fit to library or a professor’s podium. Not sleek enough for a board room. Then you think he might be a writer of sorts but you’ve never seen him with a laptop or pen and most of the local authors don’t show up without one or the other. 
You take out a wipe and take your time in getting every inch of the table. You back up as he removes his jacket and you back out of his way. He sidles around the and sits, shoulders set as he grips the table and straightens it. 
Whoever he is, he’s very precise. 
“Usual?” You ask with a smile. 
He looks at you and reaches to pinch the arm of his glasses. The first time he came in, you remember you could’ve melted at his gaze. So stony and unyielding, you wondered why he was even there. Now, there is an ease to it. He prefers the familiar and you have become that. 
“Yes, usual,” he agrees. 
You nod and swiftly turn on your heel. You go back behind the counter as Jenna snoops from behind the cookie display. You shake your head at her as you wash your hands a second time. He will certainly note that as well.  
You go to steep his cup of English Breakfast as the other woman nears and watches the steaming water at your side. 
“Don’t know how you do it. He should just have tea at home.” 
“Can’t complain for business,” you shrug. 
“Why bother? All that fuss for a cuppa.” 
“Maybe he likes the ambience?” You suggest. 
“He said the lights give him headaches.” 
“Oh?” 
“Well, he pays his bill. That’s all I ask for,” you add a teaspoon of milk, measuring it out exactly and you move the tab of the bag to hang to the left of the handle. 
“Mm, and he sures asks a lot of you, don’t he?” She crosses her arms. 
“Jenna,” you look towards the till where a customer waits. 
“Ugh, you’re such a bore,” she chides. 
You go back into the tea room and cross to Raymond’s table. You set the cup and saucer before him. 
“Enjoy,” you insist. 
“Cheers,” he hooks his finger into the handle and turns the cup to an exact angle. 
You lean back on your heel and he raises his palm, “do you... have any suggestions?” 
“For?” You wonder. 
“I thought to try something with my tea today. What do you recommend?” 
“Well, were we thinking something savoury or sweet?” You reply breezily, “our cheese scones are delicious, and there is the chives and onion bake. I sneak one every Friday. Erm, there are the white chocolate shortbread on special and I think we’ve sold out of the cherry tarts. Oh, if you’d like a combination, there is the cranberry cheddar scone. I don’t mind it but I hate the crumbles.” 
He considers you thoughtfully and crosses his arms. He mills the decision with his lips clamped. His blues eyes narrow behind his lenses. 
“Do you have plain shortbread?” 
“Of course,” you chime, “two for a pound.” 
“Two will do,” he agrees. 
You hold your smile and once more set off on your mission. He might be stringent, a bit repressed, but you’ve dealt with worse customers. More demanding, sometimes outrightt rude.  
You dip behind the counter and grab a plate. You use the tongs to take two of the shortbread biscuit and place them on a clean plate. You take a napkin with you and once more emerge from behind the displays. 
You approach Raymond as he sips his tea. You put the plate and serviette before him. He thanks you and adjusts his tie, letting his hand drift down his vest. 
“Is that it, sir? Tea alright?” 
“That’s it,” he affirms. 
“Great, you know where I’ll be,” you chirp and spin.  
You stop before you can bring your foot down as he calls your name. He’s only ever said it once. The first time you met. It’s always ‘miss’. 
You turn to face him, “yes?” 
“Your apron strings are uneven...” he says. “Just figured... I’d warn you.” 
You nearly laugh. What an odd thing to worry about. You reach back behind your waist and feels the lengths. Sure enough, you’ve tied them entirely off kilter. You suppose you don’t pay too much attention to that. 
“Thanks for letting me know.” 
He nods and examines one of the cookies. Then his eyes flick up and keep you from another retreat, “I could fix it.” 
“Oh, er, that’s fine,” you wave him off, “not a big deal.” 
“It doesn’t bother you?” He wonders. 
“Not really,” you shrug, “does it bother you?” 
His brows raise slightly and he taps the cookie, shaking off the crumbs as much as he can. He leans forward and nibbles over the plate, making certain not to litter over the edge. He puts the biscuit down and wipes his fingers on the napkin. 
“It does,” he says. 
You won’t laugh at him. It would truly be at his expense, it’s just a very unexpected offer. You put your arms straight, “if you want.” 
You near and turn your back to him. You sense him leaning forward as you stand stalk straight and watch the tea room. The smell of cinnamon and cloves fills the warm space, the shades giving an orangish hue to the din. There are low tables near the center with pillow seats, and the high tables along the walls. You know all the creaks and cracks better than your own home. 
You feel him tug the knot loose and his fingers work agilely to tie a new knot. He lets it hang but just as quickly looses it again. You try not to move as he does it several times before he relents. 
“There, ears and tails match,” he declares. 
You step away and turn to send him a smile, “thanks.” 
He doesn’t say anything, only raises his cup and doffs it in a kind gesture before he sips. You twist away again. You should help Jenna before the rush begins. That’s the only thing about Raymond, he does take up a lot of time. 
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band--psycho · 8 months
Text
Raymond Smith x Reader - Let Me Make It Up To You
My first entry for my 3.6k drabble celebration!
I enjoyed writing this so much, thank you so much @deathbecomesnerds for requesting this!
I hope you all enjoy this! 💛
Prompt - You tried to kill me three days ago
Raymond wasn’t surprised when he saw Y/n in his kitchen, pointing a gun at him as soon as he entered the room. 
Instead he was relieved. 
A small chuckle fell from lips as he rolled up the sleeves of shirt slightly. 
“You are aware I’m pointing a gun at you, right?” Y/n questioned, anger growing in her eyes; she was clearly annoyed by Raymond's response but he maintained completely unphased. It certainly wasn’t the first he had had a gun pointed at him nor would it be the last. 
Plus, he knew that this was all being done just to prove a point. 
“I am very much aware,” he began, a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he walked closer to her, “but we both know you’re not gonna shoot me, sweetheart.”
“You do remember that you tried to kill me three days ago?” She scoffed, pulling the lapel of her  jacket to the side slightly revealing the wound Raymond had left her with, “Why do you think I wouldn’t pull the trigger?”
What made him know that he was right in his statement? Because he knew that as pissed off at him as she was, he knew how she felt about him, and he felt exactly the same way he felt about her. 
Did he shoot her? Yes.
But he knew it wouldn’t kill her. 
Though that didn’t seem to stop a small wave of guilt from washing over him as he looked at the bullet wound just below her collar bone. 
“You know why,” he answered her latter questioned first, slowly putting one foot in front of the other to close some of the distance between them, until his forehead was near enough touching the barrel of the gun Y/n was holding, “and if I wanted you dead, do you honestly think you would still be breathing?” 
It was a rhetorical question; she knew Raymond, and she knew that if he wanted her dead, she would be dead. 
A sigh left her lips as she lowered the gun and put it down on the kitchen counter. 
“Still fucking hurt though,” she muttered, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes as she looked at him.
He was a lot closer to her now; and as much as she wanted to push him away she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 
Even now she craved his touch. 
“I know,” he acknowledged solemnly, tentatively moving the lapel of her jacket to the side so he could look at the wound again. 
“I am sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, placing a featherlight kiss above the forming scar. 
“Gonna take a lot more than that to get me to forgive you,” Y/n remarked, trying to fight back her smile as his lips worked their way up her neck. 
“Oh sweetheart,” he continued, leaving a trail of kisses from her scar, up her neck until her lips were hovering inches from hers, “I’m just getting started."
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