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storiesforallfandoms · 2 years ago

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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)

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.

#raymond smith #raymond smith imagine #raymond smith x reader #ray smith #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam x reader #the gentlemen #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 5 months ago

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"Keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up." 😉- honestly any Charlie character that inspires you (Please &Thank you💞)

Thank you, love for sending a request! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Female Reader

Warnings: 18 + only for language, explicit smut, bondage.

"Keep your hands where they are, or I'll tie them up," you freeze, your hand resting on the butt of your gun.

Michael Pearson looks between the two of you and chuckles giving you a wink, "I'd listen to him sweetheart, unless you're into that kind of thing."

You hold eyes with Raymond Smith as the two kingpins argue over pennies before reaching out for a handshake. "I look forward to working with you Pearson," your boss tugs on his coat, "we're both going to get incredibly rich."

He makes for the door and you go to follow when he stops turning and raising a hand, "not you sweetheart."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"Weren't you listening to the deal?" he laughs, breathing a cloud of smoke into your face. "You're staying to join Pearson's crew, under his second," he points a fat finger to the figure behind you.

You turn, reaching for your gun on instinct when Raymond Smith grabs your wrist and tuts, "now, now, what did I say would happen if you tried to pull a gun on me?"

"Let go of me," you growl, hearing the door click behind you. He releases your wrist and you hold it to your chest, "what are you going to do to me?"

“Whatever you’d like me too,” his smile is dark and you feel your panties dampen.

“What if I don’t want you to do anything?”

He smiles, “then I’ll leave you be.” He hesitates, “but we both know that’s not true is it darling?” He steps closer, invading your space, he smells like leather and expensive whiskey, and you feel a little drunk sharing the same air with him.

"What do you want with me?" He cocks a brow and presses you completely into the wall, caging his body with yours. You can feel every part of him, every part. "Oh," you whisper, feeling him hard against your belly.

"I've been watching your work for some time," he gestures to the door behind you with a flick of his head, "that fuckhead didn't deserve you. Didn't even realize what he had."

"And you do?" you challenge pressing so close to him, space ceases to exist. His smile is the only answer as he leans closer, pressing his lips to your own, instantly opening his mouth to tangle with your own. The smoke lingers on his tongue and you moan, collapsing back against the wall and pulling on the lapels of his coat. He follows, leaning into you and kissing you with a passionate combination of tongue and teeth. It's animalistic and you want more.

"If you're going to fuck my new employee could you wait for me to get out of the room?" Mickey Pearson interrupts, taking a final sip from his glass of brandy.

"Sure thing boss," Ray pants, "we were just leaving."

"We were?" you ask, breathless.

"Yes," he grabs your hand almost dragging you from the room and towards his SUV. He opens the passenger door, putting you into the seat, and buckling you in, making sure to touch every inch of you he can reach.

"Don't forget we have that meeting in forty minutes," Michael shouts from the doorway leaning against it and watching you with a smile. "Welcome to the team, sweetheart."

Ray frowns mumbling to himself before taking off, his hand on your thigh, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. "We don't have a lot of time," he mumbles, turning off the main road towards the woods on the property.

"Where are we going?" You unbuckle your pants, desperate to have his skin on yours. You shimmy them down your legs, smiling when he curses and frantically looks between your exposed cunt and the road.

"Somewhere with a little more privacy," he pulls into an alcove of trees and gets out, slamming the door behind him. He opens the trunk, tugging something out and your mouth goes dry when you see the rope. He glances up to see your blank expression and winks, "what did I tell you, darling?" He lifts one finger and gestures for you to come, and with shaky hands you open the door, shoving your pants further down your legs until they pool on the floor, your shoes following.

He comes around the side of the SUV and stops, eyeing you from top to bottom. Holding your gaze he unbuckles his belt, licking his lips as you shove off your top and stand before him naked. He pushes down his pants, freeing his cock and pumping it. "In the back," he orders, reaching a hand out for you to follow.

You grasp his hand, gasping when he tugs you to stand beside him, his hand moving down to grasp your ass and giving it a sharp slap. "Sit," he orders, and you do, "arms behind your back." In seconds he's got your hands tied behind your back and your feet tied together in the back of the SUV, standing back and admiring his work as he continues to pump his cock.

"That's a site," he groans, reaching for you and pulling you to the edge of the SUV, your whole ass out for anyone to see. "I'm going to fuck this pretty pussy," he tells you, running his finger along your slit, "and from how wet you are, I think you like that idea. Tell me," he leans closer, "tell me you want me to fuck this pretty pussy."

"Please," you clench tightly when he slides a finger inside, slowly pulling it back before inserting it again, "please," you rock your hips but he puts a hand on your hip stilling you. He looks at you expectantly, "please fuck me," the word ends on a gasp as he slides his cock inside you.

Each thrust is sharp and calculated like all the things in his life, and you are gasping, twisting against the restraints for more. "Desperate little thing, aren't you?" he taunts, "you want me to fuck you harder? Is that what you need?"

"Please," drool dribbles down your chin when he grabs both your arms and tugs them back, pounding into you. You scream with each precise piston of his hips, feeling his cock in your cervix with how deep he is. Deep and thick he fills you so fucking good, and when he releases on arm to rub quick circles on clit, you're a fucking goner.

"Ray," you moan brokenly, knowing this is it, no one on the planet could fuck you as good as Raymond Smith. He doesn't stop, allowing the tension and pressure to swell again and again until you're cumming again so hard, you swear you blacked out for a minute.

"Shit," he groans, pulling out at the last second and turning you over, arm still tied behind your back, it pushes your torso up and your tits bounce with the force as he spills himself all over you. He's breathing loudly, running his fingers through his cum and smearing it all over you. "Mine," he growls, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger.

He writes his name in the cum, smiling down and leaning forward to leave a soft kiss on your lips. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly, grabbing a hunting knife strapped to the wall and turning you gently to cut through the ropes. You're shivering, and you pull your hands to your chest to rub where the ropes burned. "Love?" he asks, taking your wrist and rubbing over them.

"I'm okay," you clear your throat, "more than okay. That was fucking fantastic." A smile splits across his face and he chuckles, running his cum stained finger over your cheek.

"Welcome to the crew."

"Do all of you, give such a warm welcome?" you chuckle, seeing his brow furrow and tighten a little line appearing between his eyes.

"No," he shakes his head firmly, "that is saved specifically for me."

"You tie up and fuck all the new recruits?" you tease, "that big bloke from back at the house, Bunny I think...he must have really fucking hurt your asshole."

"You're a little shit," he smiles, laughing and tickling your sides. Until you're both in a fit of laughter. "Just for the record, I don't usually fuck any of the crew, or anyone period."

He sits up, grabbing his clothes from the neatly folded pile beside you and gets dressed. "Ray," you ask, holding his jacket around your bare arms, and he pauses to look at you, "why me?"

He finishes tying his tie, checking the time on his watch and pulling the jacket further around your shoulders, "because, I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Because when I threatened you, you didn't back down. You're strong, confident, and after this meeting with Michael, I'd really like to take you out for dinner."

You pretend to contemplate his offer for just a moment before nodding, "Dinner sounds nice," you smirk, "as long as it's followed up by some dessert."

"Oh love," he sticks his fingers in your mouth, his cum salty on your tongue, "dessert is always the best course."

#Raymond Smith #Raymond Smith x Reader #Female Reader #The Gentleman #Autumn Writes #Charlie Hunnam #Thirsty Thursday

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watchtowerindistress · 3 months ago

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Charlie Hunnam-verse

Raymond Smith (The Gentlemen)

One-shots

overcome that little challenge 💦

Reader works for Roderick ‘The Spider’ Dollison, one of Mickey Pearson’s partners, while being in a secret relationship with Raymond. How will Raymond react once he sees someone flirting with you?

Arthur Pendragon (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword)

Mini-series

are you falling for me…? 💉

Imagine meeting Arthur for the first time who is claiming you already as the love of his life aka his future wife. Arthur Pendragon - the most infuriating man in all of Camelot who knew of his effect on women. As if you didn’t already knew how his abdominal muscles looked. The destined King tended to take his shirt off in your presence any chance he could get after all.

💦 ~ smut

💉 ~ violence

#watchtowerindistress #masterlist #raymond smith x you #raymond smith x reader #arthur pendragon x reader #arthur pendragon x you #arthur x guinevere

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stherix · 6 months ago

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No Good Deed Goes Unpunished - Raymond Smith/Original Female Character(s) Fanfic

Teaser:

Slowly, as instructed, he turned to face her.

Now she understood why those two girls had probably blushed.

They maintained eye contact, neither yielding a fraction. He stood tall with both hands clasped in front of him, accentuating his broad back in that posture. Then, he directed his eyes to the ruler Caterina held in her hand. His eyes gleamed as he realized that was her weapon.

“Now, who are you?” Caterina asked.

His eyes returned to her face. A slight friendly smile appeared on his face, completely calculated. “My name is Raymond Smith. I work for Rosalind’s husband.”

Mickey Pearson. Fuck.

Raymond kept pretending to be extremely polite. He didn’t want to be perceived as a threat. He started sauntering, checking the book stacks. Caterina played along, staying close to him. Pretending as well. “Are you here because of what happened in the office?”

“No. I’m here because there is something that you don’t know about your new situation. A little secret.” Caterina pondered about his voice. He had a deep and smooth voice. As well it had a raw edge to it. And those eyes, they analyzed everything, paying attention to the smallest details. They were constantly scanning their surroundings, as well as her. She had to be careful with him. “Your father used to have business with us.”

Caterina nearly choked with laughter. Then, she whispered. “My father? A drug dealer?”

If he was surprised that she was aware of Rosalind's husband's type of business, he didn't show it. “I never said he was a dealer. I said he had business.”

“If you don't clarify what you're suggesting, I'll start to think of crazier theories.”

Raymond put on his best innocent face, with that little smile that screamed "I don't bite" and went on. “It’s better if I show it to you.”

“Like hell, I’m coming with you—.”

“I know this might seem suspicious, but if we had any real intentions of harming you, we would have done so already. We've had plenty of opportunities in the past few days. My only intention is to inform you, and then we'll leave you be.” Raymond assured her.

How the hell could this guy change his demeanour like that? His eyes had darkened as they locked onto hers, and he had lowered his voice as if he were sharing a secret with her. He definitely didn't seem like your typical gangster thug.

He remained facing her at a prudent distance, waiting for her response, his expression expectant. At no point did he appear to be anything other than sincere, kind, and polite. No threats or promises of having to deal with him the hard way. He was either confident in his charms to persuade her or very certain of his ability to overpower her in a physical confrontation.

“Fine, but just you,” she angled her head to the outside, where the car would still be parked. She reached for the ruler she had stashed in one of her pockets and approached him cautiously. She placed the ruler on his chest. “Leave your mate at home, or next time… I will not bring a ruler.”

Raymond's expression changed almost imperceptibly to a grimace of warning. As quickly, he regained his composure and relaxed, but the wolf had already shown its ears. Caterina saw it reflected in that beautiful face. Raymond didn't make a move to back away; he remained standing with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes shifted to the ruler and then back to Caterina's eyes.

Don’t fuck with me, they seem to say.

#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam characters #raymond smith #the gentlemen #raymond smith fic #raymond smith fanfiction #the gentlemen fic

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followthemadrabbit · 2 years ago

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Matthew McConaughey and Charlie Hunnam in

⸽⸽T⸽⸽h⸽⸽e⸽⸽ ⸽⸽G⸽⸽e⸽⸽n⸽⸽t⸽⸽l⸽⸽e⸽⸽m⸽⸽e⸽⸽n⸽⸽ ᴅɪʀ. ɢᴜy ʀɪᴛᴄʜɪᴇ

#Set theme: Ray being bitchy in the background #the gentlemen 2019 #the gentlemen #charlie hunnam #matthew mcconaughey #raymond smith #mickey pearson #Mine #Grht

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squash1 · 2 years ago

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a collection of ronan lynch coded characters:

[ roy kent, ted lasso / charlie dalton, dead poets society / mickey milkovich, shameless / rosa diaz, brooklyn 99 / roman roy, succession / klaus hargreeves, the umbrella academy / brian kinney, queer as folk / eleanor shellstrop, the good place / jj maybank, outer banks / mac, it’s always sunny in philadelphia / benji ovich, beartown / david rose, schitt’s creek / ricky baker, hunt for the wilderpeople / kevin pearson, this is us / constance contraire, the mysterious benedict society ]

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deathbecomesnerds · 2 years ago

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“All His Stars” | Chapter 5 | Astrid x Raymond

A03 Link

Ray walked with Astrid up to the front door as she clutched the cake platter close to her body; he knew that she was so nervous about meeting Mickey’s wife, but Ray knew that Rosalind was absolutely delighted to finally be meeting her after a few months together.

“It’s alright, Astrid. Promise!” Ray assured her.

Astrid sighed heavily, “I know, but I want to make a good first impression.” she admitted.

“Oh, don’t worry–Michael’s already done it for you.” Ray said, quietly.

#the gentlemen #raymond smith #charlie hunnam #victoria pedretti #mickey pearson #rosalind pearson #bullet tooth tony #astrid x raymond

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justforbooks · 8 months ago

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Nicholas Shakespeare’s elegant biography of the James Bond author Ian Fleming takes its subtitle from a journalist’s observation, quoted halfway through, that its subject was “for a moment of time, a complete man” while working for British naval intelligence in the second world war. Yet you can’t help read it as a promise to give the reader what was left out of previous biographies such as John Pearson’s crisp, more portable authorised life from 1966. And is there a claim, too, for the alpha male credentials of the man called “Flemingway” by his friend Noël Coward? Journalist, stockbroker, thriller writer and – like his famous creation – a playboy and 70-a-day smoker, who died of a heart attack in 1964 at the age of 56 after a plagiarism row over the origins of Thunderball, the ninth Bond novel.

After a dutiful account of how Fleming’s Scottish financier grandfather became a millionaire – later cutting Fleming and his brothers out of his will – Shakespeare gets going with his subject’s troubled boyhood in the shadow of his father’s death in the first world war. Family friends in Switzerland take his education in hand after hasty exits from Eton (hanky-panky with a woman) and Sandhurst (gonorrhoea). His exams aren’t good enough for the Foreign Office; an engagement to a Swiss lover ends amid maternal threats to cut off his allowance. He falls on his feet at Reuters – it was that kind of life – further honing his knack for a scoop at the Sunday Times, a handy source of contacts for his war work.

Testimony woven from diaries, papers and interviews gives the book a flavour of oral history. Shakespeare goes to great lengths – not least tracking down a 94-year-old veteran, the last surviving member of a covert commando unit that Fleming organised – to dispel the idea that Fleming’s service, occluded by state-sanctioned secrecy, was just “in-trays, out-trays and ashtrays”. The book’s first half puts the future author at the heart of military and journalistic history – a search for German weapons of mass destruction; the race to get an inside scoop on the Cambridge spies – as well as the bedroom shenanigans of the English well-to-do. (Shakespeare, who encourages us at one point to smile at the mention of a “germanely” named Nazi admiral, Assmann, shows his assumptions of his audience when he writes confidently of “that small, turn-of-the-century intellectual clique, the Souls”.)

Fleming may be “the man behind James Bond”, in the subtitle of Andrew Lycett’s 1995 biography, but Shakespeare’s project, you sense, is partly to say there’s more to him. Eager to prove Fleming’s interest beyond the reasons that will draw most of his readers to the book, he is almost comically insistent on the degree to which his subject was ahead of the curve. Not only might he have sparked the idea of creating the CIA – in a memo written when the US-UK special relationship was being forged – but he also came up with the idea of putting a Christmas tree from Oslo in Trafalgar Square.

As for the dozen Bond novels that poured out of Fleming after 1953’s Casino Royale – written in a month in his winter bolthole in Jamaica a year earlier – they were, in Shakespeare’s telling, essentially the literary expression of a midlife crisis accelerated by the encroachments of fatherhood and a faithless union as the third husband of Ann Charteris. They had got together with an affair that caused a high-society scandal during her previous marriage to the Daily Mail heir Esmond Harmsworth; she later cheated on Fleming with the Labour leader Hugh Gaitskell, who told him that the “sex, violence, alcohol” formula of the Bond novels was “to one who leads such a circumscribed life as I do, irresistible”.

Fleming, injecting the American dirt of Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer novels into the English thriller, launched 007 on what Shakespeare calls the “spam-munching gloom of Attlee’s Britain”, writing (Fleming told his publisher) in order to make “as much money... as possible” and to have “as much fun as I personally can”. Respectable sales rocketed when JFK took a shine to From Russia, with Love – and the movies were yet to come. While Fleming was self-deprecating – telling Raymond Chandler the Bond novels were “straight pillow fantasies of the bang-bang, kiss-kiss variety” – he was proud enough to greet the director of the first Bond movie, Dr No, by telling him: “So they’ve decided on you to fuck up my work.”

“Luck had to be accepted with a shrug or taken advantage of up to the hilt,” Bond thinks in Casino Royale; he sees luck “as a woman, to be softly wooed or brutally ravaged, never pandered to or pursued”. Squint enough and Fleming took some care to cast his main character in ironic light. Early in that novel, the reader gets a fly-on-the-wall thrill of watching fieldwork in action, with the scene of theatrical care Bond takes to ensure his hotel room isn’t being searched; but soon enough his French sidekick turns up to let Bond know his upstairs neighbours have been listening in to his every move.

In Shakespeare’s biography, the novels are mostly a source of supporting quotation – he doesn’t get bogged down in questions of what it means to read Bond now, confining himself to a remark on how his “cavalier treatment of women... carried the sexual climate of the Blitz into the austerity of the cold war, and was less modern perhaps than it was later cracked up to be”. And perhaps there’s no need for his defenders to overstate the case for Fleming’s novelistic subtlety. Bond has always been shaped by a collective amnesia that allows us to make him what we wish him to be at any given moment; when he parachuted into the Olympic opening ceremony with the queen, it was as the best of British, not as a connoisseur of (Fleming’s words) “the sweet tang of rape”.

The novels, in a way, are irrelevant to 007, but the course of history would surely have run otherwise had Fleming not had the foresight to change his protagonist’s name from the original “James Secretan” – Fleming’s typescript revision perhaps his most significant literary act.

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