#dark!raymond smith

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Retrogradation

Warnings: non/dubcon, coercion 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.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Retrogradation - a backward movement. (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

This isn’t how you saw things going. Nothing ever really goes how you expect. You think you’d be used to it by now. That after all the disappointment, you would give up hope. You tried that too but it still hurts. 

You pull the blanket over the couch. You don’t anticipate a good sleep. The springs are broken and squeaky and the cushions not quite thick enough to pad the jabbing metal. You can’t complain, it’s somewhere to lay your head. That morning, you didn’t have even that. 

You try to fluff up the slightly dingy pillow. You just as sad for your brother as for yourself. This isn’t anyway to live. Thin walls, noisy neighbours, and that constant stale smell that doesn’t go away. Even so, you won’t spurn his kindness. It’s all you have. 

You can at least be grateful for the solitude. He left about an hour ago, said he’d be back in a few hours. You didn’t ask why. He’s an adult and you’re sure he has more to worry about than his errant sister. 

Before you can recline, footsteps make their way steadily down the hall. You stop and listen, watching the crack beneath door. For a moment, you think it’s just your brother but the knock that follows assures you otherwise. He wouldn’t do that. 

Hm. Maybe you should ignore it. If it’s his friend, they might assume that he’s not there. They knock again. It would be rude to not answer. What if it’s an emergency? 

You get up and cross to the door. You pause for just a moment as you think about how short your pajamas are. How the top is a bit too loose so that the top button hangs a bit lower than it should. They won’t think about that. 

You open the door and choke on your voice. You’re so stunned to see Mr. Smith there, you’re certain you’re dreaming. You must have fallen asleep and not even realised. You stare as his lashes flick to mirror your surprise. 

“Eh, think I might have the wrong place,” he says. “Sorry, love.” 

“That’s quite alright. It’s... do you remember me, Mr. Smith?” 

“Oh, yes, I do recall,” his cheek twitches, “you moved on from the kiosk, yes?” 

“I moved to the home store, sir,” you explain. He was a regular down at the south end location when you worked at the small coffee pop-up near the train station. “How are you doing?” 

He looks back and forth evasively and fixes his glasses, “very good, love. As ever.” He turns back to you. “And you...” his eyes wander up the splintering door frame, “suppose serving medium roast to the masses doesn’t pay much.” 

“It’s money. This... I’m...” you’re suddenly very self-conscious. Having to say it aloud is harder than you expect. “My brother’s letting me stay over. Just until I find a new place.” 

“Oi? What happened then?” He asks with a tweaked brow. 

“Evicted. They’re upgrading my flat to let at a higher price.” 

“Hm, I don’t think that’s very legal.” 

“I didn’t either,” you shrug. “Anyhow, I hope you find whoever you’re looking for.” 

“Me too. Say, I know it’s not your neighbourhood but you wouldn’t happen to know where I might find a lad by the name of Alex?” 

“Alex?” You echo and add your last name. “That’s my brother. How do you know him?” 

His blue eyes flicker and he takes a deep breath. His cheek ticks again. He smooths his hand over his slicked back hair. 

“Is he in?” He asks. 

“Not at the moment. Can I help? I can tell him you stopped by.” You offer. 

“Mm, well, it’s rather urgent. Any way you can tell me where he is?” 

You frown, “I can give him a call but I don’t know where he’s off to.” 

“That’ll do then.” 

There’s a solemnness to his agreement. He hardly seems happy about your solution. It is rather late. You suppose he doesn’t want to be waiting around all night. 

“Would you like to wait inside?” You ask. 

His cheek dimples and gives a single nod, “alright then.” 

You step back as he enters. You spin in search of your phone as the door clicks shut gently. You scoop up your phone and filter through for your brother’s number. You tap call and put the phone to your ear. Your keenly aware of Mr. Smith pacing by the door. It must be urgent with how restless he is. 

No pick up. You try a second time to the same end. You leave a voice mail then text for good measure. You shrug as you face Mr. Smith. 

“Sorry, sir, he’s not pickin’ up. Should I tell him you stopped by?” 

“Mm, you think he’ll be back soon?” 

“Well, he left a bit ago. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. If you want to stick around, I guess you can.” 

“Sorry if I'm imposing. I don’t mean to.” 

“No, it’s fine. Not my place,” you go to the couch and fold up the blanket and stack it on the pillow. You turn back to him once more. “Would you like a cuppa? I think Alex’as at least a few bags in the cupboard.” 

“Thank you but I’m alright,” he waves you off. “Your brother... you’re close to him?” 

“Erm, he’s my brother. We’ve not been very chummy since we were kids,” you shrug. You notice how his eyes flit around the room. You squint. “Are you looking for something?” 

His blue eyes meet yours. His jaw ticks and a dire shadow fills his eyes. You squirm. 

“You’ve any idea what business your brother’s mixed up with?” He asks. 

You swallow and shake your head, “he works down at the garage, I think.” 

“Oh, does he? And he lives here? Known some mechanics in my day, they take home a decent pay,” he says. “Yet he’s livin’ in a slum like this.” 

“Well, er, I...” a trickle flows down your spine. “Mr. Smith, why are you looking for me brother?” 

His eyes drop and he tilts his head. He sighs. He tucks his hands into his pockets before he looks at your again. 

“He’s taken something from me.” 

You stare at him. His tone, his posture, his very gaze, you know what he truly means. Alex has stolen from him. But what? 

“Well, why don’t we have a look around and see if we can find it--” you suggest. 

“That won’t do. It isn’t the sort of thing you just give back and call it even,” he says dully. His demeanour shifts with his timbre. He steps closer and you shy away. “And I’m not the sort to let that sort of thing go.” 

You know Alex lies. You know better than to buy into his stories but you wanted to believe. You wanted to hope. Still, even after all is lost, you really, truly wanted it all to turn out. 

“Oh,” you swallow.  

“You see, he’s crossed me. I’m not a man to be crossed and this isn’t it about getting back what he stole. It’s about the principle of it all. About teaching him a lesson,” he comes close until you have nowhere to go. Until he is right in front of you and the couch is against your legs. “I really wish you hadn’t have been here, sweetheart.” 

Your mouth falls open. His words are like a punch in the gut. You expect worse than that by the gleam in his eyes. 

“Mr. Smith, please, you don’t have to--” 

“You don’t get it. It’s not up to me,” he grabs you by the neck and you cry out.  

You bat your lashes at him as your eyes glisten. You don’t fight. You can’t. No matter what you do, you lose. Whether it’s him, your landlord, or life in general.  

He pushes you until you sit. His grip tightens for an instant than eases. He inhales through his nose so it flares out. 

“Will you listen?” He asks. You lower your eyes and nod. He sees right through you. He already knows you’re weak. “Alright then, don’t pull nothing.” 

He rescinds his hand. Your skin tingles where his fingers had dug in. He reaches to your top button, undoing it with both hands. You shudder and let out a squeak. He continues down the shirt and lets go. The fabric opens around your naked torso. 

Your bottom lip quivers as you stare at the tailored weave of his pants. He brushes his fingertips along your hairline and down your cheek. You lock up as his touch continues down your neck and wanders along your chest. He fondles your naked tits as your top slumps down your shoulders. 

“Get up.” 

You stand as he backs up. He grabs your upper arms and turns you with him. He takes your place on the couch. He sits back and braces his thighs. 

“Finish it. Everything off.” 

You nod and keep your head down. You shrug off the shirt and untie your shorts. You shimmy them down and kick them away.  

Your eyes are drawn up by his movement. You waver as you notice his open fly. He strokes himself above the rich brown fabric of his pants. You press your hands to your stomach and shudder. 

“Get on me,” he orders. 

You sway and dare to bring your eyes up to his face. You don’t understand. Mr. Smith was always so polite. He always tipped and wished you a good day. Why would he do this? 

“Bad luck, that’s all it is,” he assures you. “Isn’t my fault, eh? Blame your thief of a brother.” 

You gulp and step up. You bend and grab his shoulders. You feel as if you might collapse at any moment. He latches onto your hip with one hand and guides you down. You ease yourself down and wince as his tip brushes between your folds. You whimper. 

He lines up with your entrance and pushes you down. You stretch around him as you whine. Your voice grows louder and louder with each inch. Your tears leak out and you puff through your teeth. You’re set alight by the shame that underlines your pain. You won’t even resist. Like everything in life, you just let it happen. 

He takes your hand and lifts it to his cheek. He leans his jaw into your palm so his beard tickles you. He holds you like that as he rocks your hips. You roll against him, following his motion as you weep softly. He groans and bites his lip. 

You hang your head as you give yourself over to him. You snivel as your core swirls with heat and your skin speckles hotly. You bring your free hand up to wipe your nose. 

“Sir, does this—will this--” you can barely speak or think, “my brother...” 

He growls and pulls your hand further, hooking your arm around his neck as he forces you closer. 

“I’m still going to break his fucking hands,” he snarls. “But I think I’ll keep you too. Show him what it’s like to lose something.” 

You sob and nod. He runs his hand away from yours and up your arm. He nudges your chin up as he keeps your hips moving. 

He groans and grunts through shallow breaths, “don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. Better than this heap.” 

[navybrat817]

Basement wife for who?

Raymond Smith

William Miller

Bucky Barnes

Nick Fowler

Steve Rogers

Who said I have to pick one, nonnie?

Raymond has an entire estate and a nice room set up for me. He wouldn't need to put me in a basement. Though he does have a special room set up for when I misbehave. 

William would keep me in a cabin in the woods. He wants some peace and quiet after his years of service. And he'll find ways to make me serve him. 

Bucky has places he can keep me and knows how to avoid getting caught, but imagine him fixing up a boat and keeping you captive there to start. Not exactly easy to escape the insatiable ex-assassin. 

Nick knows a basement would be perfect to hold me captive, but uses a panic room of sorts instead. Perfect to come home to and the blinking light in the corner reminds me that he's watching. 

Steve might actually try a basement. White picket fence home. I just need to accept that he won't let me go. 

Steve and Bucky may also have rooms at the compound if they want their girls close together.

So. All of them?

Love and thanks! ❤️

[eccentricallygothic]

I wanna cry on his dick so bad 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

[holylulusworld]

A perfect gentleman

Summary: Your trip to Great Britain changed your life forever.

Pairing: Raymond Smith x fem!Reader

Warning: bitchy friends, mentions of anxiety, meet cute, sex with a stranger, smut, protected sex, unprotected sex, public sex, shower sex

You bobbed your head to the song blaring from the loudspeakers. It was the only thing you could do. That, and watching the others dance with men they just met. Grinding into them – their intentions clear.

Maybe you are not the most social person, but being in a place with so many people spiked your anxiety.

You shuddered and ripped your gaze from your friends to order another drink. Something light. You never were much into alcohol.

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” a man plopped down next to you and dipped his head. “How can I help you relax?” He purred and moved his hand to your thigh.

“You could start by stopping to touch her,” another man suddenly stood behind your back. He pushed the other guy off you and glared at the stranger touching you. “Is that the way to welcome tourists now?”

“Man, she looked lonely,” the man grunted but made space for the second guy. “Didn’t know you called dips on her already, Raymond.”

“Get lost,” Raymond snapped at the man. You flinched and tried to make yourself as small as possible while the men fought. “We don’t harass ladies at my favorite place.”

“Alright, alright,” the man huffed. “She’s not worth the effort. You can have her.”

“Hey, are you okay,” Raymond softly asked. He must’ve been from around, because of his sexy accent. You always had a thing for men with an accent. “I hope he didn’t hurt you. Some guys shouldn’t drink too much.”

“Uh-thank you,” you murmured and finally looked at the man. Raymond looked like you imagine a British gentleman, but with a dash of roughness and something hidden behind his neat appearance. 

He was wearing a navy-blue corduroy waistcoat, a slim tie with the same color, and a light blue and white striped button-down over dark wash slim-fit stretch jeans. His hair was neatly gelled back, and his beard was long but well-trimmed. Orange-rimmed clear lens glasses framed his handsome face.

“That was very nice of you.”

“A gentleman must protect a lady in need,” he grinned and sat next to you. “Let me buy you a drink for the inconvenience, and for not stepping in sooner.”

“You came the moment the man put his hand on my thigh,” you shyly glanced at Raymond. He offered his name to you and held out his hand. You placed your hand in his, feeling another shudder run through your body. This man was unlike any guy you ever met.

He screamed danger but acted like a gentleman. You could smell weed on his clothes when he leaned closer to ask you for your name. 

“Y/N,” you replied and allowed him to hold your hand for a little longer than needed. He ran his thumb over your skin, causing a tiny whimper to escape your lips. “Thank you again.”

“What brings you here, love?” Raymond leaned impossibly closer, letting you feel his warmth. “I assume you are a tourist.”

You chuckled. “What gave me away?” 

“Your accent, and I know every pretty girl in town.”He laid it on thick when he purred your name and told you that you look beautiful in your dress. He already had you when he saved you from the grabby guy, but you wanted to bask in his compliments for a little longer.

“Every single one,” you chuckled. “You’re a very busy man in that case.” 

He adjusted his glasses and smirked. “I don’t know every woman like that.” Raymond gave you a wink. “But I’d like to get to know you better.”

“My friends are still somewhere at this place,” you leaned closer to drink his appearance and scent in. You were enchanted by this man. “Probably rubbing themselves against the guys they just met.”

His eyes sparkled at your words. You were about to do the same with him. Why – you had no clue. He was handsome and charming. But there was something else drawing you in like the moth to the flame.

“Do you want to leave this place?” A question was not in his words when he got up, still holding your hand. “I promise to be a gentleman.”

You didn’t make it far. Before you knew it, you left the bar with Raymond. You ended up pressed into the wall in the dark alley behind the bar. 

He was all over you, lips devouring your mouth the moment you were out of sight. His hand slipped between your thighs, finding your panties soaked. He teased you for your floral cotton panties, moving the fabric aside to shove a finger inside your soaked cunt.

Raymond lifted you off of your feet, and you ended up in his arms, your pussy stuffed to the brim with his thick cock. 

“Fuck, this is a tight little cunt,” he puffed into your neck. Hot breath fanning over your skin. “You’ve been a good girl, huh? How many guys did you fuck behind a bar so far?”

“No one,” you held tight onto Raymond as he slowly rocked into you. “Only you.”

“You’re so good for me, love,” he whispered in your ear as he mercilessly battered your cunt. He was not a gentle lover any longer. Raymond fucked up into you, all the while holding your body safe in his arms. “I’m gonna ruin you.”

“Aw, baby love,” he crashed his lips onto yours to silence your moans. “You met the right man to ruin you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and started to move your hips.

“Ruin me. Do it. I’m done being the good girl.”

“Why did you leave without us?” One of your friends asked. Janice walked inside your shared hotel room, smirking as you were reading another book. “Y/N we are on vacation. Stop reading and go out there. There is a whole new world to explore.”

“Yeah. Maybe you’ll get some dick too if you stop hiding,” your other friend snapped at you. She didn’t get lucky last night and tried to let her anger out on you. Chanel always gets lucky. Just not last night.

“Oh, I think you will have enough fun for all of us,” you hid that you were the one getting a perfect dick last night. Well, they wouldn’t have believed you. You never take a risk. This includes fucking a stranger behind a bar. “Don’t forget to wrap it before you let any dick get near you.”

 “It’s their job,” Janice huffed. “I only need my lipstick and nothing else.”

You bit your tongue. Last night you were the one making sure that you didn’t take a bigger risk. Raymond was all too eager to fill you, but you insisted on protection. Even though you were a horny mess wanting nothing more than to feel him bare inside of you.

“Have fun reading,” Janice snapped at you. “We are going to meet up with some girls we met last night and tonight, we’re going back to the bar. Tonight, I’ll get lucky and fuck a British guy!”

“Don’t wait for us to come back today. You’re no fun to be around since you and Ransom broke up,” Chanel added. A low blow to your fragile heart.

With your friends gone, you had the time to enjoy the city. You explored the usual spots tourists would seek out and ended up in a nice little café to have a break.

It was close to your hotel, and you could enjoy the sun as long as you wanted to. 

At least no one tried to hit on you here or called you boring for enjoying your tea and biscuits.

“This must be fate,” a familiar voice said. Raymond stopped short in his tracks when he recognized you. “What brings you here?”

“I was—” You licked your lips at the sight of Raymond. Today he was wearing a soft camel tan shawl cardigan and a skinny burgundy tie over his dark wash jeans. He looked as perfect as ever when he claimed the empty chair on your table, “having a break from exploring town.”

“Sightseeing,” he nodded thoughtfully. “I see.” Raymond eyed you up and down in your simple shirt, cardigan, and a pair of worn-out jeans. “I could give you the Smith tour to show you all the secret spots no tourist ever saw.”

“Smith tour?” You wrinkled your forehead.

“That’s my surname, sweetness,” he smirked and nodded at the waitress to order tea and biscuits himself. “Do you want to go on that tour with me?”

“Sure,” you said a little too fast. He was still a stranger, but you let him fuck you twice last night. What else could he want? You were sure he wouldn’t hurt you and having the chance to fuck him again had you already dripping. “I’d love to see more than the usual spots.”

You didn’t see much of town. All Raymond showed you was his large, luxurious estate where he lives by himself. And you didn’t see much of it either. 

Raymond had you pinned to his mattress; his cock buried balls deep inside of your dripping cunt moments after he guided you inside his home. 

“Shit, look at you,” he purred before he claimed your lips in a heated kiss. “I could get used to having you like this. Underneath me, filled with my cock.” He kissed you again, softer this time. “Bare.”

He rocked his hips at a slow pace, dragging his thick cock along your walls. Raymond smirked as you dug your fingertips into his back.

“Raymond,” you whimpered his name. “Please.”

“Fuck, say my name again,” he buried his face in your neck to nip at your soft spot. “Now,” Raymond growled your name and gave you a particularly hard thrust. “Sweetness.”

“Raymond.”

“Again,” he snapped his hips into yours. “NOW!”

“RAYMOND!” You screamed his name on the top of your lungs. “RAYMOND!” You chanted it like a prayer. “Please.”

“Fucking take it,” Raymond whispered in your ear. “You’re meant to lie underneath me, my cock in your sweet pussy.” He slowly fucked into you, taking his time to enjoy having you again. “All I was thinking about was your cunt. I could smell you on me all day.”

Your arousal coated his cock with every thrust. It soaked the sheets underneath you, ruining the fine fabric you admired before you ended up on his bed. 

“You’re mine now,” he threatened, his voice a deep growl as he kept on fucking you into the mattress. “Say it.”

He stopped moving and stared at you underneath him. “Say it!”

“’m yours, Ray…”

He kissed you again, sweet but dirty. His tongue delved into your mouth, tasting the strawberries you ate earlier.

“Yes. Fuck.” You started to clench around him and tremble underneath Raymond. “Please.”

“Ohhh…fuck,” he thrusted into you, ignoring that you cried out his name. Raymond simply fucked you through your high, rhythm never faltering as you threw your head left and right. It sounded cliché, or like bad porn. But right at that moment it was all you could do because he just felt too good inside of your body. “That’s it.”

“Come inside of me, please,” you pleaded. “NOW!”

Fuck…He thought and exploded inside of your quivering cunt. Raymond didn’t stop. He trusted in and out of you, making an even bigger mess of his sheets. 

“That was,” you sighed when he slipped out of you to lie next to you. Raymond panted, and you patted his chest when he gasped for air.

“I know, sweetness.”

“Thank you for making my vacation much more interesting,” you laughed as he crawled back on top of you to kiss you softly and gently. 

“Thank you for making my shitty week better.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Smith.”

His shower was amazing. Just like the rest of his home. It was huge, and the rain showerhead was something else.

Not that you got the chance to enjoy it much. The warm water barely had the time to run down your body before Raymond was all over you again.

He stood behind you to nip at your earlobe with his teeth. His skilled hands cupped your tits, and you fell back against his chest.

“Still not enough?” He chuckled at your words. “You're insatiable.

“You’re just too cute to ignore.” He watched you turn around to cup his face to kiss him. “What are you up to, sweetness?”

“I’d love to fuck you again,” you purred his name and ran your hands over his chest. “What are you up to?”

Raymond smirked, and you knew you were in for a rougher treatment. He twirled you around, barking orders at you. “Hands against the wall.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re playing with fire,” he was on you again, to manipulate your body. He gripped your hip with one hand and guided his weeping cock into your dripping pussy. “But I’ll not stop you from being a perfect little cockslut for me.”

You hissed but welcomed his length like an old friend. “You feel too good inside of me, is all.”

“Yeah,” he kissed your neck. “How good? Good enough to spend the rest of your vacation with me.”

“Yes.” You said without hesitation. To hell with your friends, sightseeing, and biscuits. All you wanted to do is spend time impaled on Raymond’s cock.

“I knew it,” he breathed into your neck. “You’re perfect.”

Raymond nipped at your neck while slinging his arms around your waist.

“My little lost tourist.” He slowly but steadily pumped into you. “Lucky me getting inside this sweet body.”

“Oh, yes,” The warm water gently rained down on you and Raymond, and your wet bodies slid easily against one another. “Fuck, please.”

“Same, sweetness,” he growled as you started to push back onto his length. Raymond was close to losing all control. He pressed you against the wall, pumping into you with all the strength he had left in him. 

You slammed the palms of your hand against the shower wall feeling your high ripple through your body. You were panting heavily, and your knees buckled when he emptied himself inside of you. 

“No, you don’t understand,” Raymond grunted into the phone. He watched you turn around in your sleep to snuggle into his pillow. “I want you to tell me where to pick her things up. Y/N wants to spend the rest of her vacation with me, not you.”

He groaned as your friends bombarded him with questions. His patience was wearing thin, and he was close to sending one of his problem solvers to get your belongings.

“Listen, all you need to know is that she’s safe with me. No…I won’t send you a picture of her.” Cursing loudly, he looked at you.

“Give me the phone,” you yawned, and rubbed your tired eyes. “They won’t believe you, Ray.”

“Fine,” he handed you your phone, waiting for you to confirm that he’s not some psycho kidnapper holding you hostage. Even though, his cock twitched when he imagined keeping you at his home forever.

“Janice, relax,” you tried to calm your friend. “I met Raymond two days ago at the bar. Yeah, where you left me all alone. We met again at a café, and I spent the last two days with him at his home. I texted and called you, but you didn’t answer so, I believed you don’t give a shit about me and if I’m still alive.”

Janice muttered into the phone, but you didn’t care. You told her to pack your things and hand them to whoever Raymond will send to them.

One week later you sat on his couch, snuggled into one of the blankets he offered to you. “You’ve got a nice home,” you said and smiled. It pained you that in not a week you had to leave this wonderful place and the man owning it. “Maybe I can come back here one day.”

“Or,” he sat down next to you and placed his hand on your thigh, “I just keep you here forever.” Raymond nuzzled his face in your neck. “I heard you quit your job, left your boyfriend, and are looking for adventure.”

“What? I-“ you spluttered. “How did you find out?”

“Your friends are rather talkative,” he shrugged and moved his hand between your legs. “I got a big home, and a good job waiting for you. I know this is sudden, but I’d love to keep you around. What do you say?”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[jhutchlover1234]

𐔌  .  jhutchlover1234's ever-evolving bot list !  ౨ৎ

call of duty .ᐟ

ghost / hybrid au, herding dog ghost — c.ai ghost / high school au, cast-out ghost — c.ai ghost / hybrid au, seeing-eye dog ghost — c.ai ; j.ai ghost / blue collar ghost, established relationship — c.ai ; j.ai NEW ! ghost / divorced ghost and user — c.ai ; j.ai NEW ! john price / trophy wife user — c.ai john price / babytrapping, dark price — c.ai ; j.ai könig / minotaur könig, sacrifice user — j.ai könig / heatwave, established relationship — c.ai

movie characters .ᐟ

mike schmidt / lipstick trend, established relationship — c.ai harry warden / husband harry (still murderous) — c.ai harry warden / abduction roleplay, established relationship — j.ai raymond smith / established relationship — c.ai

misc .ᐟ

jeff sadecki / trans daughter user — c.ai barry sloane / streamily, married barry and user — c.ai

[ updated 18.12.2024 / divider credit ]

[abbyfmc]

[Yandere Time Traveler]

Chapter One:

[Narrator PO.V]

This is the story of a boy named Raymond Smith, a young adult who has been treated very badly by life since he was born, since he is the son of a pair of narcissistic and abusive parents who pressured him academically to be perfect in EVERYTHING, or else they punished him physically, psychologically and emotionally speaking.

On several occasions Raymond went to school in long sleeves, covering the bruises, scratches and physical marks his parents gave him when they were angry with him. At school things were not much different, as day after day he was cornered, mistreated, harassed and bullied by his classmates; the leading bully being an upper-class boy named Darius who took advantage of Raymond's weakness day after day.

He would insult him, hit him, slap him, push him, kick him and make fun of him; he would throw books, food and drinks at him, knowing that he would never fight back out of fear and low self-esteem. Even so, neither parents nor teachers cared about him, and he found himself totally alone in those dark years when he even considered committing suicide due to the despair, depression and loneliness he felt that year.

Even so, he was a smart and studious boy (even if it was because of pressure from his parents), but he didn't think that, since he had a bad perception of himself. Things continued like this until the 4th year of high school, which was when Darius was transferred to a different school (although his two friends stayed there), and at that same time a new cute girl arrived, named (Y/n) (Y/ln), being the ONLY one who approached him kindly.

She became his best friend and his emotional support, both in and out of school. They talked a lot during breaks, online, and she would invite him to her house for dinner. She also ended up being very important to him, both by supporting him and being a shoulder to cry on and by helping him to trust himself more and overcome, being his beautiful light in the middle of his darkness.

Time passed and they both graduated with honors, applying to good universities, although they parted ways. Eventually, Raymond graduated at the top of his class; he went to work for his current company where they met again at the office, which made them both happy.

But Darius wouldn't let Raymond get close to (Y/n), as he didn't want their past to come to light (also because he was very jealous, obsessive and possessive with [Y/n]). The latter escalated to the point where (T/n) herself broke off their engagement due to his toxicity, which escalated to the point where Darius kidnapped his ex-fiancée in his apartment after work.

Raymond noticed this, and called the police and followed Darius to his apartment, willing to do anything to save her.

Upon arriving, the police were nearby but he didn't want to waste any time, so Raymond stormed into the apartment, determined to get his beloved out before Darius did anything to her. They exchanged blows, with Raymond taking the brunt of the blow, and in the end, Darius beat him so hard that Raymond ended up falling and hitting his head hard on the corner of a table, which caused his death.

Raymond woke up startled and frightened in his bed. Sweat was pouring down his forehead as he tried to calm himself down.

--What the hell was that dream?!-- He asked himself. He couldn't explain how or why he had that "dream" or rather, "nightmare". Anyway, he decided to call (Y/n) to see if she was okay, but when he looked at her cell phone, he noticed something very strange.

Monday, August 10 - 2015

4:00 AM

--This… is my old phone, and this date… is not today-- He then tried to unlock his phone with previous passwords and failed, until he entered the birthday of his beloved (Y/n). He reviewed old photos and videos, old conversations, social networks and news from the year 2015, which began to give him the impression that he… traveled nine years into the past.

-The end.

So, wat do you think about it?

[storiesforallfandoms]

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.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Who You Belong To

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Reader x Tangerine

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only

Notes: Aaaaaaand 800 years later, I finished writing one of those things I said I was writing. Not Beta-read.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content—cumshot, oral sex, fingering, rough sex, vaginal sex, threesome, creampie, cumplay

Summary: It’s in the way Tangerine’s jaw tightens; in how he yanks the cigarette from his lips and flicks it away rather than savoring the last drag. It’s in the way he yanks your car door open, snaps, “In,” Rather than hold it open for you with a wink like he usually does. Raymond trails you all the way to the car, giving Tangerine a knowing, scathing look over the top of his glasses before he turns down to you with a warmer, far more hospitable gaze.

You know it’s a mistake as soon as it happens. You and Tangerine aren’t exclusive, of course. You’re certain he’d balk if you ever called him your boyfriend, your significant other, or anything of the sort. He’s your fuckbuddy, and that’s that.

But he’s also a possessive little fucker. So you realize that the second he sees you with Raymond—the second he clocks your rumpled, untucked blouse and his ruffled hair—he’ll know.

You can see that he does. It’s in the way Tangerine’s jaw tightens; in how he yanks the cigarette from his lips and flicks it away rather than savoring the last drag. It’s in the way he yanks your car door open, snaps, “In,” Rather than hold it open for you with a wink like he usually does. Raymond trails you all the way to the car, giving Tangerine a knowing, scathing look over the top of his glasses before he turns down to you with a warmer, far more hospitable gaze.

“Lovely doing business with you,” Raymond says. Maybe he knows he’s twisting the screws. Maybe he had been able to tell before—from the way that Tangerine watches you, from how his tone would soften as he turns from speaking to Lemon to speaking to you. Maybe Raymond can tell, and truly didn't care as he bent you over his desk in the Lore of the Land, just after you’d finished talking business. You’ll likely never know. So for now, you just give him a smile and grit out your thanks.

Raymond nods and turns his gaze to Tangerine, shutting your door gently—the exact antithesis of Tangerine’s behavior just moments ago. You watch as he and Raymond share a contentious gaze before Tan is rounding the car to get into the driver's side. You flinch just a touch as he slams the car door shut and starts up the car. You glance at Lemon over your shoulder, and find him pointedly avoiding your gaze.

The ride back to the safe house is uncomfortably silent. You turn on the radio once, and hear three solid notes of Queen's Don't Stop Me Now before Tangerine's hand shoots out, whacking off the power again. When you look at him, he keeps his focus set staunchly through the windshield.

That's bad.

Usually he'll at least shoot you a wink and a smile before refocusing on the road. Now, you just get a good view of his tense jaw, his harsh expression, and one short, irritated sniffle.

--

Tangerine's out of the car first. You don't move; you don't even flinch when the car door slams shut again.

"...I'm just gonna sleep in here," You say after a moment. Lemon snorts.

"That's not gonna solve anythin'. He'll just come an' find you."

You groan, kicking your feet childishly before you finally get out. You shut the door, rounding the car to Lemon's side and looking up at the large, dark townhouse that you've rented for your short stay in London.

"...I'm gonna get some chips," Lemon says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Oh, great! I'll—"

"Go see if Tan wants anythin', will you?" Lemon plows on, beginning to wander away. "Text me. Thanks—and good luck."

You puff out an irritated breath, watching him go. You consider going somewhere else yourself, but a little bit of you knows that you're probably better off just taking your lumps now.

 --

You can hear Tangerine upstairs—stomping from room to room, opening and closing doors, cabinets. You sigh heavily, shrugging out of your coat and kicking your shoes off. You hang the coat up on one of the hooks, double-check that you've locked the door, and then make your way upstairs.

As you round onto the landing, you spy Tangerine out of the corner of your eye, heading down the hall. For a moment, you consider following him. Then you turn, heading into the kitchen instead. You can probably get a drink in before he loses his sweet mind on you. 

You pour one for each of you. Hell, if he doesn’t drink it, you will. You push yourself up onto the counter, swinging your feet. You hear him stomping his way down the hall, then it goes quiet. You can feel his looming presence as he waits in the doorway. You don’t turn to meet his gaze; you don’t ask if he wants his drink. You just take a sip of yours. Tangerine brushes past you, taking up his glass. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him throw it back before he slams the glass down. You spare him a scathing glance before taking another sip from your glass. 

“What the fuck was that?” He spits. 

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

“Oh, you’re not.” 

“No.” 

“Really.” 

“Not a clue.” 

“You’re going to pretend that nothing happened?” 

“What exactly do you think happened between myself and Mr. Smith?” 

Tangerine rounds to stand in front of you. You’ve no warning before he’s shoving his hand up your skirt. You suck in a nervous breath, but don’t move otherwise, even as he spears two fingers into your still-slick, tender cunt. He crowds closer as your pussy throbs around the intrusion. 

“You’re gonna tell me you’re this wet just from him holdin’ a fuckin’ door open for ya?” Tangerine glowers at you down the end of his nose. “Hm? You’re really gonna tell me that?” 

“...Depends.”

“On?” 

“Whether or not you’d believe it.” 

Tan’s expression closes off, eyes going dark, and mean. He begins to pump his fingers roughly, palm grinding against your clit. Your lips part in surprise, hips jolting into his touch. 

“Ah no. No no,” He shakes his head. “You an’ I both know what the fuck you did.” 

“And you and I both know that I can fuck whoever I goddamn wa—ant,” Your breath hitches in your throat as Tangerine gives a particularly rough shove of his fingers. 

“Sweet that you think that, sweetheart.” 

Tangerine raises his other hand to grasp your throat. He draws you close by it, forehead knocking against yours. He draws your lower lip between his teeth, giving it a harsh tug before he draws his head back. 

“Take my cock out,” He orders. You reach down, working at his button and zip, hissing as Tangerine’s fingers flex around your throat. “What’d you do for him? Huh?” Tangerine asks. 

“Who says I did anything for him?” You ask, grasping Tangerine and giving him a few strokes. “Maybe he did it for me.” 

“Would explain why your cunt’s so slick. What, he slobber all over it?” 

“Slobber has to be the most unsexy word in the English language.” 

“What, ahead of moist?” 

“I don’t think moist is actually all that bad—Sonofabitch,” You draw in a gasp as Tangerine draws his fingers out of you, pinching your clit. You try to squeeze your legs shut, but Tangerine muscles between them, shifting from foot to foot. 

“You gonna give me any more lip?” 

“I think that’s almost guaranteed, Tan, yeah.” 

“Christ alive—You just never know when to stop, do ya?” 

“Never have a good reason to—oo,” You hiss as Tangerine draws you across the counter, shoving his cock into you without warning or hesitation. “Fucking hell.” You reach out, curling your fingers in the fabric of his waistcoat. 

“There are those sweet words I like so much. You woo ‘im with those, too?” Tangerine’s words are punched out word by word, matched thrust for thrust. You whimper at his harshness, and the way his hand slips from your throat to squeeze the nape of your neck. It’s a treatment you’ve only ever been privy to when a job has gone wrong, or very nearly wrong. In your estimation, this had been a pretty calm interaction. You’d gotten in and out in one piece; you’d even managed to make a friend, in a sense—though Tangerine clearly hadn’t warmed to Raymond the way that you had. 

“What was he like? Huh?” Tan grunts, “Did he fuck you like this?” 

“N-No,” You mumble. 

“No?” “Nn-nn.” You let your lips curl into a malicious smirk. “He did it better.” 

“Fucking—” Tangerine pulls out of you, yanking you off of the surface and turning you around. He shoves you into the counter, bending you over hard marble and driving into you. Your breath punches out of you, head bowing forward. You’re glad he turned you around; he can’t see your giddy grin. You knew he’d take the bait. You’re certain you could come like this, but—

You whine as Tangerine pulls out. You begin to turn to look at him, to ask, but he presses his hand between your shoulder blades, keeping you down over the counter with a grumbled order of, “Stay the fuck there.” His voice is breathy, and low. You can hear his heavy breathing, and the slick stroke of his hand on his cock. You draw in a whimper, fingers flexing against the counter as you feel his cum splatter across your plumped, heated pussy. You wriggle, toes curling in your shoes. 

“Gimme your phone,” He orders. You fish into your pocket of your jacket, passing it over before Tangerine plucks ut out of your hand. You swipe your tongue across your lips. 

“What are you doing?” 

Tangerine doesn’t answer for a moment; you just feel him shoving your skirt up, followed by the sound of the camera shutter clicking a couple of times. Then the skirt is dropped back down, and you hear the tapping of Tangerine typing. 

“What are you doing, Tangerine?” 

“Showing your friend…” He tosses the phone onto the counter beside your head. “Who you belong to.” You flinch as he slaps your ass roughly, and you feel the heat of him falling away. “Get yourself cleaned up, love.” 

You push yourself up on shaking arms as you hear him walking away. You turn your head, eyeing the photo sent to Raymond’s contact—Tangerine’s hand, his signet ring fully visible, grasping your skirt and displaying your cum-splattered cunt. You shiver, bowing your head forward as embarrassment flashes through you. It’s heightened as your phone flashes with Raymond’s incoming call. You don’t dare not answer him. You reach out with a shaking hand and tap to accept the call before raising it to your ear. 

“...Bring him to the address I’m going to send you,” Raymond orders. 

“I have to get cleaned up—” 

“Don’t. Just come over here.” 

“Now?” 

“Now.” 

--  

You mumble your thanks as Raymond passes you a glass of scotch. You don’t take a sip right away. You just shift from foot to foot as you lean back against his counter. Raymond’s home is just like his desk at the Lore of the Land—pristine, neat, with everything in its place. Raymond shoots you a wink as he turns back toward you, and you have to bite back a smile. 

Tangerine’s watching closely, and you’ve been in enough trouble today as it is. 

You watch as Raymond rounds to where Tangerine is sitting at Raymond’s dining room table, proffering a glass to him as well. Tangerine’s gaze darts between it and Raymond; you can see his eye twitching a touch at Raymond’s boozy little olive branch. When Tangerine doesn’t take it, Raymond sets it down on the table in front of him with a mutter of, “Right.” 

Then Raymond turns, heading back toward the kitchen. He stops between the two of you, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“I seem to have ruffled a few feathers.” 

“You didn’t ruffle anything—” You start to insist. 

“That shit we handled with you an’ Pearson, she wasn’t part’a the deal,” Tangerine cuts over you.

“I didn’t think that she was.” Raymond’s brows raise. He seems more amused than annoyed; Tangerine seems like he’d like to rip Raymond’s head off just about now. 

“And I didn’t act like I was,” You counter. 

“If I’d known that…associating with your colleague would’ve made such an impact on your mood…” Raymond smiles, leaning against the counter beside you, “I would’ve done it twice.” 

You scoff a laugh, unable to help it. “You’re not making this better.” 

“Who said I was trying to?” 

“Wow.” 

“Alrigh’,” Tangerine hops up, grasping the glass of scotch and draining it before slamming it down so hard that you’re certain it’ll crack. “We’re going.” 

“I think you ought to stay,” Raymond says. “I could teach you a thing or two.” 

“There is not a goddamn thing you could teach me.” 

“I think there are a few things that I could teach you.” 

“Like what?” 

“How to treat a lady, for one.” 

“You think I don’t know how to treat my girl?” 

“Your girl?” Raymond repeats, brows tipping up as he glances between the two of you. “Oh…That’s not what she told me.” 

Panic and arousal surge through you as Tangerine’s gaze snaps toward you, eyes narrowing a touch. You just give a little shrug, raising your glass to your lips and taking a sip.

“Did you get cleaned up?” Raymond asks, glancing toward you. You shake your head. Raymond hums thoughtfully, holding his hand out to you. You hesitate, glancing warily toward Tangerine before you set your glass aside, taking Raymond’s hand. You let him lead you to the table, biting your lip as he nods for you to sit on the edge of it. You settle down, scooching back and letting him push your legs wide.

“Now,” Raymond slides his hands up over your bare thighs, “Typically, I do not abide by mess.”  

“You told me not to clean up,” You pout.

“I did. I think we could teach your friend a lesson.”

“A lesson,” Tangerine repeats, shifting from foot to foot and folding his arms across his chest. “You fuck ‘er once and you think you’ve got the lay of the land? You think she knows what she likes?” 

“Not at all,” Raymond smiles, fingers stroking over your plumped, tender cunt. “I know what she needs.” 

If you were a touch less tense, you’d be able to laugh at the way Tangerine goes red with irritation. 

“You don’t know jack shit, mate,” He seethes. 

“Oh?” Raymond glances up at you, shooting you a wink. “Well, why don’t you come and show me what I don’t know.” 

It’s all Tangerine needs before he’s practically charging across the room and shoving Raymond out from between your legs. Raymond hardly wobbles as Tangerine drops into the chair in front of you. You yelp as he grasps you by the hips, tugging you to the edge of the table and diving in. You draw in a gasp, eyelids fluttering as Tangerine laps hungrily at you. Your gaze flickers to Raymond, grinning as he rounds to lean down beside you. 

“Is that what you needed?” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours. You smile hazily, tipping your chin up pleadingly. 

“Yes, Raymond.”

Raymond smiles, catching your lips in a kiss. You prop yourself up on your hands, wobbling just a touch as you raise one to cup his bearded cheek. You suck his plush lower lip with a soft sigh, parting your lips to tease his tongue with yours. You groan as you feel Tangerine draw back.

“Oi!” He barks, “The hell is it worth being down ‘ere if you’re just gonna suck fa—” 

Tangerine doesn’t finish his argument as you feel him pressing sharply against your cunt again. You turn your head from Raymond’s engrossing kisses, eyes widening at the sight of Raymond’s palm resting on the back of Tangerine’s head, shoving him down. You scoff out a stunned laugh as Raymond’s fingers tighten in Tangerine’s hair. You hinge forward as you feel Tangerine moans against you. 

“I didn’t think he’d take this from anyone,” You admit, shifting and propping one of your feet up on the table and easing your hips down against his lips. Raymond hums, nuzzling your jaw. 

“People like him can talk a big game, but they need someone to answer to.” 

“And that someone is you?” You tip your head to the side, raising your brows.  

“Right now,” Raymond smiles. “But if you play your cards right, it could be you.” 

“I’m usually the one taking orders.” 

Tangerine draws back with a sucking kiss, grunting. “She’s bloody good at it, too.” 

You pout, reaching down and giving his forehead a gentle push. 

“I’m right here, asshole.” 

“Be kind,” Raymond urges, squeezing the nape of your neck in a tender scolding. “He’s a little mouthy, but he’s a good boy who cleans up his messes.” 

“Don’t call me a boy,” Tangerine hisses.

“Don’t act like one,” Raymond bats back without blinking an eye. He just shoves Tan’s head back between your thighs, and you jump at the bristly scrape of his mustache, unable to help the way your thighs tense and twitch around his head. You expect more of a fight, but Tangerine just grasps your thighs, fingers tightening around your hips as he groans against your slick, heated flesh. 

“Do you think you can handle it?” Raymond asks against your jaw. 

“Handle what?” You breathe, and your head spins as he tips his chin up, murmuring low in your ear:

“Both of us.” 

--  

It’s not the fight you imagined. Tangerine has fallen in line just as well as you have, and is on far better behavior than you could've ever imagined. He hisses through his teeth as you blink hazily up at him, your lips parted and your jaw dropped as he eases his cock in and out of your panting mouth. 

You hear tandem groans, and you arch your back, tipping your hips down toward Raymond as he eases into your aching pussy. He shushes you softly, fingers skimming over your supple hips and gently nudging you to settle back down onto the table. It’s a struggle; your torn between obeying his command and fucking down against his length. You whimper as Raymond begins to fuck you with long, languorous strokes. It’s an almost lazy punctuation to the way that Tangerine’s hips thrust and jerk, spearing his dick into your mouth. 

“Slow down,” Raymond counsels as he draws his cock back, lingering with the tip tucked snugly in your cunt, “You’ll pop before she’s anywhere near.” 

You turn your head from Tangerine, letting him slip from your lips as you peer up at Raymond, quipping, “He usually does.” The words are hardly out of your mouth before you’re yelping, knees jolting around Raymond’s hips as Tangerine slaps one of your tits sharply, growling, 

“Cheeky.” 

“Dickhea—” You hardly get it out before Tangerine grasps your head, shoving his cock back between your lips. You whine as you feel Raymond’s hands plant on either side of you, his hips beginning to punch more harshly, despite their slowed thrusts. You raise a hand, grasping Raymond’s forearm tightly as your body fights to recognize and categorize every feeling rippling through you. It’s difficult to focus. There’s heat all around you; your mouth is heavy with Tangerine’s weight, your lips stretching with his girth, your tongue, thick with his taste; your cunt stretches and aches as Raymond measures and doles out his thrusts with even, steady, measured composure. 

You want to rattle Raymond. It’s not fair that you can so reduce Tangerine to wanton neediness, but seem to have no such effect on Raymond. Why can’t you shake him? Why can’t you—

Your mind turns to static as Tangerine makes you gag, and Raymond’s cock brushes a spot inside you that makes you keen and throb. You’re so—so full. You’ve never felt so terribly overwhelmed, so horribly distracted while having sex. Tangerine is wonderful on his own, of course, and has been a taskmaster in his own right, but he shows an almost childish impertinence now in the way he shoves into your mouth with a force that has spit and precum spilling from the sides of your parted lips. Raymond’s measured pace is almost more of a hindrance than a help. His counter-pace is driving you to distraction. You can’t bring yourself to time your movements to Tangerine or Raymond’s thrusts. You’re caught too sharply in between. You’re—scrambled. Tangerine is in a race to the finish line; Raymond seems to have all the time in the world. You’re just grasping to each of them in desperation, practically struggling to breathe, let alone respond to the way the two of them use you so thoroughly. 

“You’re going to bust, aren’t you,” Raymond asks him almost boredly. Tangerine doesn’t even argue, just groans as his grip tightens in your hair. You splutter and choke, eyes watering as his hips rabbit, and his cock spills down your throat. You tighten your grip on Raymond, on the only thing anchoring you. Tangerine groans low in his throat, hips jittering before he plops back into a seat with a panting gasp. He doesn’t remain stationary for long—Raymond reaches out, gripping Tangerine’s head and steering him toward your still-stinging nipple. Tangerine seems to almost stumble out of his seat, hands planting roughly beside your body as he swirls his tongue around the pebbled flesh. 

--  

It’s almost mesmerizing, the way Raymond takes you apart. A single strand of hair springs loose from his neat style; his cheeks tinge pink from exertion; the swell of sweat makes his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. Now and again, his tongue sweeps over his plush lips before they part in a shuddering pant. 

He’s rattled, just a little. It makes you preen, and arch down into his touch, tipping your head back to allow Tangerine more room for his bruising nips, and sucks, and kisses. He doesn’t let up, even as you grasp and tug his hair with a warning groan. 

“Poor baby,” Tangerine murmurs. “All wound up, aren’t ya.”

“Shut up,” You mumble shakily. 

“Took so long for fancy-pants to send you off, mm?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Should’ve told me you were such a soft-touch. Needed a little pamperin’.” 

“I don’t need to be pampered—Oh!” You shriek as Raymond lands a stinging whack to your hip. 

“Be nice,” Raymond tuts as he thumbs one of your tender nipples. 

“I am being nice,” You whine. “He’s being an ass.”

“Such pretty words from such a messy mouth,” Tangerine coos. You whimper despite his taunts, tightening your grasp on his hair and on Raymond’s forearm as the coiling feeling in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. Your hips tip down against Raymond, and against his attentive, slick fingers as he swipes them over your throbbing clit. Your orgasm wells up slowly, and you moan as you cum. The sensation seems to ripple through you, your jaw dropped in heated want as your cunt ripples around Raymond’s cock.

You’re vindicated by the grunt that seems to be punched out of him, and the way his cock pulses and twitches. The heat and slickness of his spend makes your nails rake down over his forearm. He hums softly, bowing over you. You shiver as he presses a kiss to the other side of your neck. 

“Atta girl,” Raymond murmurs. “Is that what you needed?” 

“Mhm,” You hum high in your throat, heavy eyelids dropping as you nod dazedly. Raymond squeezes your hip, giving you a moment before he draws back. 

“Fuck,” You breathe as he spreads your thighs. 

“Tangerine,” He urges. You watch as he grasps the back of Tangerine's neck, steering him back between your thighs. You jump at the first brush of his tongue, jolting up and eyeing Tangerine as he laps at your aching cunt, and Raymond’s spend. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Reminding him,” Raymond murmurs, brushing his beard roughly against your neck, “Who you belong to.” 

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

"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."

[persephone411]

Oneshots

Ordinary life (John Wick x Reader) Dad‘s best friend, sexual tension, oral (male receiving)

The Cellist (John Wick x Reader) Musician!reader, Smut, Dominant!John

The Cabin (John Wick x Reader) Dark!John,Smut

The flannel stays on (Jax Teller x reader) fluff

Under the skin (Tattoo artist! Jax Teller x reader)

Imagines

Imagine laying on John wicks chest (John wick x Reader, fluff)

Imagine sucking John Wick off (John Wick x reader smut)

Imagine John Wick eating you out (John Wick x reader smut and fluff)

Imagine cuddling with John Wick after a mission (John wick x reader fluff)

Imagine John during his time at the Tarasov Family (John wick x reader)

Imagine waking up with Jax Teller (Jax Teller x reader fluff)

Imagine shotgunning a cigarette with Jax (Jax Teller x reader)

Imagine mirror sex with Jax (Jax Teller x reader smut )

Imagine mirror sex with Jax pt.2 (Jax Teller x reader smut)

Imagine being with Jax while he gets his back tattoo (Jax Teller x reader fluff)

Imagine face sitting with Jax Teller (Jax Teller x reader smut)

Imagine Jax taking care of you when you come home drunk (Jax Teller x reader fluff)

Headcanons

Raymond Smith as a Dom

Ruhn Danaan Headcanons

John wick + casual dominance

John wick + Lingerie preferences

Young Jax Teller

Jax Teller NSFW, Part 2

Rockstar!Jax Teller

Requests

John wicks kinks

Lingerie shopping with John wick

John wick with a pregnant girlfriend

Other Stuff

My Jax Teller AUs

[april-is]

April 24, 2024: How Can Black People Write About Flowers at a Time Like This, Hanif Abdurraqib

How Can Black People Write About Flowers at a Time Like This Hanif Abdurraqib

dear reader, with our heels digging into the good mud at a swamp’s edge, you might tell me something about the dandelion & how it is not a flower itself but a plant made up of several small flowers at its crown & lord knows I have been called by what I look like more than I have been called by what I actually am & I wish to return the favor for the purpose of this exercise. which, too, is an attempt at fashioning something pretty out of seeds refusing to make anything worthwhile of their burial. size me up & skip whatever semantics arrive to the tongue first. say: that boy he look like a hollowed-out grandfather clock. he look like a million-dollar god with a two-cent heaven. like all it takes is one kiss & before morning, you could scatter his whole mind across a field.

--

From the poet:

“I was at a reading shortly after the [2016] election, and the poet (who was black) was reading gorgeous poems, which had some consistent and exciting flower imagery. A woman (who was white) behind me—who thought she was whispering to her neighbor—said ‘How can black people write about flowers at a time like this?’ I thought it was so absurd in a way that didn’t make me angry but made me curious. What is the black poet to be writing about ‘at a time like this’ if not to dissect the attractiveness of a flower—that which can arrive beautiful and then slowly die right before our eyes? I thought flowers were the exact thing to write about at a time like this, so I began this series of poems, all with the same title. I thought it was much better to grasp a handful of different flowers, put them in a glass box, and see how many angles I could find in our shared eventual demise.” —Hanif Abdurraqib

Today in:

2023: Lit, Andrea Cohen 2022: Meditations in an Emergency, Cameron Awkward-Rich 2021: How the Trees on Summer Nights Turn into a Dark River, Barbara Crooker 2020: Ash, Tracy K. Smith 2019: Under Stars, Dorianne Laux 2018: Afterlife, Natalie Eilbert 2017: There Are Birds Here, Jamaal May 2016: Poetry, Richard Kenney 2015: Dreaming at the Ballet, Jack Gilbert 2014: Vocation, Sandra Beasley 2013: Near the Race Track, Brigit Pegeen Kelly 2012: from Ask Him, Raymond Carver 2011: Sweet Star Chisel, Dearest Flaming Crumbs in Your Beard Lord, John Rybicki 2010: Rain Travel, W.S. Merwin 2009: Goodnight, Li-Young Lee 2008: Bearhug, Michael Ondaatje 2007: Meditation at Lagunitas, Robert Hass 2006: Autumn, Rainer Maria Rilke 2005: On Turning Ten, Billy Collins

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won't let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: surprise double chapters!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You lay in the dim glow of your laptop, the screen saver swooshing back and forth, giving light to the dark. You’re limned it its idleness, in a similarly inert state. You blink, eyes dry and raw, your head pounding. Your back and shoulder pang with your inactivity as you lay on your stomach, neck twisted to one side.

Your vision is static and fuzzy, the air humming. You groan and drag an arm up, the effort alone like lifting a boulder. The world is distant and desolate. There is nothing beyond those four walls.

A chime comes from your laptop. You stare at the curtain, darkness along the borders. It’s night time already. Or again. You don’t know. You lost count of the hours, rather, days.

You roll over and peer at the abyss above. The ceiling is similarly shrouded in shadows, the corners clustered with darkness. Your head spins at the effort of your movement. Your tongue is starchy and sticky from neglect. You cough and sit up, nearly falling back against your pillow.

You don’t want to be awake. It’s so much easier to sleep. Nothing makes sense in your dreams but everything is awful in real life.

You push yourself to the edge of the bed and reach for the plastic cup of stagnant water. You sip from the brim and a slam brings you back into focus. Your hand shakes and you clack the cup back on the table, turning to watch the wall as chaos erupts on the other side.

“Goddamn, Irene, get off of me. I ain’t tellin’ ya again,” the holler rolls through like thunder. “Fuckin’ skank.”

Your eyes round as your ears ring. You cover them and back up to cower against the headboard. Your lip trembles as you hear a crash followed by the shatter of glass.

“We were having fun, sweetheart,” your mother’s desperate yawl comes over the patter of her feet, “don’t go so soon, please, baby.”

“Why you actin’ like a goddamn whore?” The man snarls and you hear your mother whimper. You sniffle as you fold yourself up and push your chin down against your knee, shielding your head as if it’s you taking the blow.

“I--” your mother snivels, “I just wanna love you, hon.”

You close your eyes. Lee huffs and stomps past your door, his shadow flickering beneath. He’s just another in a line of men your mother brings around; each one as angry as the last. It always starts the same; at first, they’re nice, then you hear how they change.

“I’m too damn tired and it’s too damn late. I’ll be back when you get your head screwed on,” he retorts and hits the wall, making you jump again as the springs of your bed squeak. “And you’re a goddamn mother... should know better...”

You crouch in fear, locked up as you listen through the wall. You hear him moving around as your mother begs him to stay. You press your hands to your ears so you can’t make out her words. The front door of the apartment snaps shut and quaver out a breath.

You wait until you hear your mother retreat, herself crying, and the clink of a glass comes shortly after. You wipe your face and lift your head slowly. You won’t be able to sleep, not with your heart racing like this.

It takes all your strength to crawl across the bed and put your feet to the floor. Your stench clings to your unwashed clothes. You haven’t changed in a couple days at least. You can barely remember the last time you left your room.

You sit down in front of your computer. The metal seat of the folding chair is hard and cold, even through your pants. You squiggle your fingers over the touchpad of the outdated laptop, as thick as a book.

The screen wakes up and you key in your passcode with one finger. The wallpaper comes up, the colours stinging your eyes, and you squint as you adjust to the glare. You tap on the envelope icon to open your inbox.

At least a dozen unread emails clutter the folder. Reminders and notifications automated by your obligations and inactivity. You scroll through and delete the messages telling you to submit your assignment and noting several missed tests. At the very top, the latest of the bunch, is from a person.

Your heart sinks as you see the name and the subject line. Professor Raymond Smith, Attn: Overdue Work. God. You clutch your head and your eyes tinge once more. You don’t have enough moisture to summon any more tears. Your head pulses and your eyes itch but you can’t cry.

You shudder and make yourself look at the screen. You hover your hand over the mousepad and make yourself tap. Just one quick touch and the message opens.

The professor greets you by name. You want to dissolve into nothing. It’s easy to just be a student number on a screen but now he picks you out of the bunch and you know exactly why. You haven’t logged into the learning site in a week or more. You haven’t been able to make yourself.

‘It has come to my notice that your last tasks have gone unsubmitted. As your instructor, I am obligated to check in to see whether I can expect these assignments to be submitted for grading. As well, I would offer any support necessary for you to do so.

Please respond to this email at your convenience so we might rectify this situation. You may also schedule a meeting through my calendar linked in my signature.

Best Regards,

Professor Smith’

You cringe. How do you explain to him that this always happens? That you’re just a failure?

This was supposed to be different, but just like everything, you blew it. You thought that you could make this work. You remember the day you got your acceptance; the program is manageable and you can do it all online. You thought you were getting better but your mom stopped refilling your script and you stopped caring.

You sit, blindly staring at the screen. For an hour, maybe more, caught between shame and sadness. You can’t just run away from another thing. You take a breath and raise your hands over the keyboard. It’s just letters on a screen.

Hi

Dear Pro

Hello Professor

I apologize for not submitting my work. I will not be able to complete this course due to mental health personal reasons.

Thank you.

You read and re-read. You guess it’s good enough? You don’t know. Whatever. Just another poor excuse.

You hit send and you peek at the time. You look at the original email. It’s a bit strange the instructor would email that late. You delete the email and go back to bed, hiding under the blanket. Typical, just another stupid idea.

📓

Your head throbs as you wake up. You’ve slept too much. Nothing different than usual but you haven’t left bed for more than a couple minutes at a time. Your skull feels ready to cave in and swells with each movement.

You get up, stumbling as you find your bearings, shuffling to your door and into the hall. You go into the bathroom. It’s a mess, like usual. Your mother’s clothes are on the floor and a man’s razor is on the edge of the sink. Is he here again?

You relieve yourself and flush, washing your hands then your face. You should probably shower while you’re in there. You lift your arm and confirm the need. You stink and your clothes are damp with your sweat.

You undress and crank on the faucet. You step into the grimy booth behind the counter as the water splashes down cold and slowly warms in the whining pipes. You shiver and let it cleanse you as much as it can.

You squeeze out some of the discount soap that smells like a hospital and scrub yourself as the air steams around you. You hear an odd creak then the plastic of the toilet seat hitting the porcelain tank. What the heck?

You grab the edge of the curtain and peek around it, smearing lather along the plastic. It’s opaque enough to blue your silhouette but not completely hide you. That man, Lee, belches as he holds his dick and pisses. He looks over and smirks.

“Ah, sorry, darling, didn’t know you were in here,” he chuckles and turns straight, leaning to brace the wall as he sighs, “goddamn, my balls are tight.”

You pop back behind the curtain and grimace. Ew. It’s not the first time you’ve had an awkward run in with one of your mother’s suitors, for lack of a better term, but no less jarring than any other. You shut off the water and back up, reaching past the other end of the curtain to grab the towel.

Something closes around your wrist and has you yelping. You cling to the curtain, staying behind it as Lee tugs on you.

“Don’t needa be shy, darlin’,” he tries to drag you out, “doubt it’s much different than your mama.”

You try to yank back but he’s too strong. You slip and barely save yourself as you grab onto the towel bar. You cry out, “let go! Please!”

He squeezes and you wince, pressed against the curtain as your knees buckle. Your soles are slippery on the wet tile. You whine and whimper, heart pounding in your chest.

There’s a knock at the door and he lets you go. You quickly pull free the towel and hide in the shower to wrap your body in it. You don’t think it’s clean.

“Everything okay?” The door groans with your mother’s entry.

“Ah, I’m just tryna piss and your daughter’s making all sorts of fuss,” he scoffs and flushes the toilet, “like she ain’t never seen a real man before.”

“Oh, Lee, you shoulda let her finish--”

“What’s the big deal, she was in the shower,” he deflects, “you know I ain’t her for that brat.”

You pant and lean against the wall, veins coursing with adrenaline. Your mother grumbles as they leave. You feel the draught of the open door and warily sidle out from behind the curtain. You gather your clothes and check that the coast is clear and find your way back to your room.

You pull on a fresh hoodie and your least dirty pair of sweats. You need to do laundry desperately. You need to do a lot of things. Your computer bings as if to agree with that sentiment.

You sit down at the table and stare at your laptop. The folding plastic thing has barely enough room for that and your notebook. You sigh. All you do is sigh. Everything is just a disappointment. You have nothing but trash around you and you fit right in.

You open the lid and login. You could watch that play through of the new fantasy game you can’t afford. Or you just break that damn thing. You have an email.

You don’t click on it right away. Instead, you scroll through a subreddit on an obscure television show you streamed on Youtube. All the posts are years old and the place is dead. If you’re good at anything, it’s avoidance.

Finally, your anxiety knots tight enough for you to do something. You close your browser and open Outlook. You make a strange noise as you see the response to the email you sent days ago. Or by your estimation. You scratch your neck until the skin burns.

You work at deleting the spam from your inbox before you’re forced to face the Re:

You click and read with trepidation. Again, the professor addresses you by name.

‘I understand that you are dealing with personal obligations. Considering how far we are in this course, I would like to allow you the opportunity to complete it successfully. If the current workload is too much, we can discuss alternatives to meet the learning objectives.

I would prefer that we have this conversation face-to-face. If you would like explore your options, please use the link below to meet with me on Tuesday at noon. Please confirm here and I look forward to meeting and speaking with you then.

Also let me know if I can do anything else.

Professor Smith’

You want to melt into nothing. You want to evaporate from existence. You want to just keel over and die. How embarrassing!

You want to delete it a forget. You want to say now and through everything away. You want to go back to how you’ve always been. You want to be a slug in the dirt. You want to stop hoping because it only ever ends like this.

But you can’t. You hit the trash button but then you can’t help but stretch your fingertips between CTRL and Z. The message reappears and you read it again and again and again. It feels like this is the moment. This is the big decision you make; is your life always going to be like this or are you going to try?

You hit reply.

‘Thank you, Professor Smith. I will meet you on Tuesday. I appreciate your understanding and I will do better.’

Your eyes blur as you move the cursor over the little arrow. You take a breath and tap your fingertips. That’s that, then.

[navybrat817]

With talk of dark stuff, will Raymond be in there's something in the water?

Never say never, nonnie, but I don't think Raymond would live in the fictional town of South Bunker. If anything, he'd be like Nick living on the outskirts of town or he'd purchase a girl from one of the auctions and transport her overseas.

And even if he isn't in this, I'd be happy to explore dark AU's with his character.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[plussizedreader]

Hello all! I was inspired by the amazing @391780 and her fat reader stories to start this blog (so give her a follow!) anyways introduction post!

My name is Bo/Maul, and this blog will be dedicated to ONLY fat readers with canon characters with multiple fandoms. There will be smut, so this blog will be 18+, so any younger I will block! I will primarily write a fem reader, but will try my hardest to try male or gn readers!

Here are the fandoms and characters I’ll write for! I try to get all my smaller interest in here for those who also like it and get zero content for it!

Horror-

House of Wax (Bo, Vincent, and Lester)

Firefly trilogy (Baby, Otis, Foxy, I will write Spaulding, but fluff and anything but smut since he reminds me a lot of my grandpa lol)

31 (Doomhead)

Micheal Myers from any version of the series

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (any version of Leatherface Thomas, Bubba etc, Choptop)

Near Dark (Severen, Jesse, Diamondback)

Saw (Peter Strahm, Mark Hoffman, Amanda Young, Adam Stanheight)

Video Games-

Red Dead Redemption (Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sadie Adler, Karen Jones, Abigail Roberts-Marston, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Tilly Jackson, Susan Grimshaw)

Call of Duty Modern Warfare Remake Games (John Price, Simon Riley, Soap, Gaz, Alex Keller, Farrah (I’ll write romance but no smut for Farrah!), Kate Lazwell, Phillip Graves, Vladimir Makarov.)

Last of Us (Joel Miller, Ellie Williams (I will ONLY write adult Ellie and only ever with a Fem reader) Abby Anderson, Tommy Miller)

Days Gone (Deacon St John, Boozer)

Mortal Kombat (Johnny Cage, Kenchi,Sub Zero, Scorpion, Shang Tsung, Shao Khan, Mileena, Kitana, Sindel, Kabal, Kano, Erron Black. NOTE please specify which timeline these characters are from or which movie so I know the correct characterization!)

Resident Evil series (Lady Dimitrescu, Heisenberg, Carlos Olivera, Chris Redfield.)

Movies/TV-

Star Wars (Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Maul)

Stranger Things (Hopper, Eddie Munson)

Blacklist (Raymond Reddington)

With that being said, while I will write smut, there are things I will not write, such as fat fetish and weight gain fetish bullshit, and I will continue to expand this list, also I can just simply say no I’m not gonna write it if I don’t like it lol.

This list is bound to change with my interest and I’ll add and take off things as needed! Please send in any request and I’ll start working on it shortly!

[holylulusworld]

A perfect gentleman (2)

Square filled for @julybreakbingo: Square 15: Free + Square 24: “I’m going to take care of you‚ okay?”

Summary: Your trip to Great Britain changed your life forever.

Pairing: Raymond Smith x fem!Reader

Warning: public sex, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Raymond, angry Raymond, implied violence, fluff

A/N: Please be aware I do not follow the exact storyline of the movie.

Catch up here: A perfect gentleman

“Louder,” Raymond growled in your ear. “I want the whole town to hear your screams.”

You whimpered at his words. Raymond wanted to take you for a walk in the park, only to bend you over the next best bench. Luckily, it was already dark, and no one was around. At least you hoped so.

“Fuck, I want to hear it, love,” he gripped your rear tighter, hands pawing at your body. More than once you ended up bruised and marked up over the last months. Raymond is a man possessed when it comes to you. “Say it! Whose pussy is this?” He gave you a particular deep thrust.

“Yours…” you slurred his name, too far gone to think straight. He got you high on him, and there is no way you are going to get clean ever again. “Only yours.”

“Damn,” thrust, “fucking,” thrust, “right,” a deep thrust, followed by his warmth filling you. You rested your head on the bench, sighing deeply. Two orgasms have turned your legs into jelly, and you were too exhausted to lift your head.

He carefully slipped out of you; eyes dropping to your puffy cunt.

“Hmm…my good girl looks good stuffed with my spunk.” Raymond slammed his hand between your legs to toy with your swollen clit.

“Ray, no,” you wiggled away from his touch. “It’s too much. This morning, during lunch, on our way to the park, in the park. You’re going to kill me with orgasms.”

He laughed, deep and rich. “You’re so cute too,” he said but dropped his hand from your cunt. “I’ll help you put your cute panties back on and we go back to my car.” He crouched down next to you to pat your head. “How does that sound, baby love?”

“Very good,” you lifted your head to grin at Raymond. “No sex on our way back!”

“Sure, baby love,” he kissed the top of your head. Raymond got back up to slide your panties up your legs. He groped your ass for a moment before straightening your dress. Raymond carefully helped you stand on your wobbling legs. “You look so pretty when all fucked out.”

He laughed when you gave him the stinky eye. Raymond promised you a romantic walk in the park only to ruin your poor pussy all over again. “You’re a dirty man, Sir.”

“If you call me Sir again,” he dipped his head to purr in your ear, “I’ll bury my face between those thighs and ruin you forever.”

You pressed your legs together and whimpered. Raymond and his libido would be the death of you one day.

“Buenas tardes, Raymondo.” You shrieked when a stranger stood in Raymond’s dining room. You were about to clean the table you christened with Raymond not half an hour ago again to make sure you erased any trace of your coupling.

The man looked older than your boyfriend, and not as dangerous as Ray. Still, he sneaked inside Raymond’s house only to look you up and down.

“You’re not Raymond.” He huffed, sounding a little too disappointed. “What a pity.”

“What are you doing in Raymond’s house?” You kept a close eye on the intruder while searching for a weapon. “You’re not one of his friends.”

“He already introduced you to his friends?” The man hiccupped. “He’s moving fast, huh?” He cocked his head to look you up and down again. “What does he see in you? Are you more than a romp in the sheets?”

“What the fuck!” You yelled at the man. Even if he got a gun, you wouldn’t let that dude talk like that about you and your relationship with Raymond.

“Ah, the man himself enters the room,” the man looked at something behind your back. “Raymondo, finally. Your lovely maid forgot to offer me a drink.”

“Fletcher,” you could hear the anger in Raymond’s voice. He slowly stepped next to you to place his hand on the small of your back. “I’d asked you what you’re doing here, but first things first.” He kissed your cheek and murmured something Fletcher couldn’t hear in your ear. “I’ll be right there, baby love.”

You pecked Raymond’s lips, much to Fletcher’s chagrin. “Ray don’t waste your time on him. He’s a dick.”

Fletcher hissed in your direction. He didn’t like the way Raymond watched you walk out of the room. “So, a new fling.”

“Why are you in my house?” Raymond’s voice filled with anger. He heard what Fletcher said to you and would love to kill the intruder. If Raymond hates one thing, it’s chaos and unexpected events. He likes having things in order. Neat. Clean. Perfect.

The only acceptation allowed to cause chaos in his life, or house is you. No one else will get away with leaving dirty dishes in his sink, or socks on the floor.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Raymond. I came here to help,” Fletcher stepped closer to the table to glance at the spot you wiped. He watched you for a while, wondering if you are more to Raymond than a plaything. “I bet you’ll go on your knees for me if you hear what I have for you.”

Raymond squared his jaw. He should have Fletcher killed, but he wants to hear what the man has to say first. “I’ll ask you one last time, and then you’ll either walk out of my house on our own two legs, or you won’t walk at all.”

“Now, we don’t want to be rude,” Fletcher has a smile plastered on his face. He’s excited to tell Raymond about all the things he found out about his boss’s business, and the people wanting to get rid of Mickey Pearson. “So…a fling or more?”

“Why does a cunt like you want to know about my love life?” Raymond grumbled. He was done talking about you with Fletcher. It was worse enough that his boss told him that a sweet girl like you wouldn’t stay for long if you found out about the true nature of Raymond’s job. “Tell me what you want or get fucked.”

“Oh, I’d love to get fucked,” Fletcher grinned. “Maybe we can bring your fling in too. She can watch.” Raymond grabbed the vase filled with roses you placed on the table to throw it at Fletcher.  

“Baby?” You rushed inside the room to watch Raymond punch Fletcher’s face. He held the man down, growling like an angry bear. “Ray? What’s wrong?” You’ve never seen Raymond so angry before. “Ray…baby.”

“Go back to bed baby love. I got business to do with his cunt…”

“What did he want?” You carefully cleaned Raymond’s knuckles. He’s usually not the man to throw punches at his boss’s enemies. “Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Raymond murmured. He watched you clean his wounds, a soft smile on his lips for a moment. “That man is no one to worry about. He’s a slimy worm.”

“A cunt,” you concluded. “I had a hunch. That asshole asked if I’m only a romp in the sheets to you.”

“He’ll be taken care of,” Raymond grabbed your hand to kiss your knuckles. “I’m sorry that he scared you. I’m going to take care of you‚ okay? No one will hurt you.”

“Ray, I signed up for this,” you placed your hand on his thigh. “I know that your job is dangerous and that your boss’s business is far from legal. When you asked me to stay, I accepted this part of your life too.”

“I can pick them,” he murmured.

“You've got such great taste,” you replied with a smile.

"Yeah," he cupped your face with both hands. "Especially when it comes to my girl."

Tags in reblog.

[mickeyswhore]

Welcome!

This is my brand new side blog, so please if you enjoy the vibes follow me!

Fandoms I can write for:

SCREAM FRANCHISE

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Mickey Altieri

SLASHERS:

Thomas Hewitt

Michael Meyers

Brahms Heelshire

Bo Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Patrick Bateman

CILLIAN MURPHY VERSE:

Jackson Rippner

Lenny Miller

Michael McCrea

Raymond Leon

Neil Lewis

Robert Fischer

Mike Kiernan

Shivering Soldier (Inception)

Damien O'Donovan

Thomas "Tom" Buckley

Thomas Shelby

THE BOYS:

Billy Butcher

Homelander

Soldier Boy

Hughie Campbell

THE WALKING DEAD:

Rick Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Negan Smith

MARVEL:

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Thor Odinson

Tony Stark

AUGUST DIEHL VERSE

Dieter Hellstrom (Inglorious Basterds)

Franz Sauer (Munich - The Edge of War)

Mike Krause (Salt)

Alex de Klerks (The Last Vermeer)

Moritz de Vries (Parfum)

Jam Kremfeld (Furia)

JANNIS NIEWÖHNER

Paul von Hartmann (Munich - The Edge of War)

Karl (Je Suis Karl)

DUNE

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Paul Atreides

Gurney Halleck

LUCA MARINELLI VERSE

Primo Nizzuto (Trust FX)

Mickey Miranda (A Dangerous Fortune)

Diabolik

LOUIS HOFFMANN

Jonas Kahnwald (Dark)

Werner Pfennig (All the Light We Cannot See)

Ulrich Haussmann (Masters of the Air)

SONS OF ANARCHY

Jax Teller

Opie Winston

Chibs Telford

Juice Ortiz

Tig Trager

RULES:

What I will not write:

Threesomes (I simply suck at it AND not my cup of tea)

Anything involving minors (such as x daughter!Reader)

Complete angst (Please, we need to have some hope even if it's not a happy ending)