#raymond smith x you

[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.

[wetpussyju1ce]

Mr. & Mrs. Smith

Raymond Smith x fem!reader

+18. mdni

note: quite obviously inspired by the movie of the same title from 2005. Ray and reader r married and secretly assassins behind each others back, until one day their real identities get exposed n they have to work through what it means for their marriage and relationship.

the whole street knew them as the cute couple that everyone wanted to hang out with during bbq parties, or when football was on and someone invited everyone to come and watch the game in their house. Ray was a gentleman through and through, always prepared, polite and reliable, whereas his other half was the more spontaneous one. She's easily the life of the party, sweet, friendly and warm.

and when they were together they were a sight to behold, Ray was one handsome fucker, slicked back soft hair and a thick beard, broad shoulders and kind yet intense eyes. His other half was simply gorgeous, brimming with youthful mirth, the one that somehow all young children gravitate to, always ready to play with them or offer snacks. 

Ray worked as an accountant in the city while his wife was a freelance artist as a cover, but both were actually assassins. She ran her own small business and even got to open a few galleries to show off her art, she was doing well, they were doing well. 

until one day they both ended up going after the same target, raymond was settled on top of a building, ready to put a hole in the target's skull until an ice cream van barrelled down the street, hitting the target's car and Raymond cursed. It all happened so fast, a hand poking out of the window of the van holding a gun, and Raymond didn't think, pulling the trigger, missing and nicking the person's hand, making them pull their hand back and shoot with the other, straight at him, almost taking out his left ear. How that person was able to see him from that far, and barely miss, was beyond him.

the next day over dinner, Raymond noticed his wife's bandaged finger, he froze and watched her happily chew the pasta he made and enjoy his homemade garlic bread.

“Love?” He said and she hummed, lifting her head to look at him, mouth full of pasta. 

“What happened to your finger?”

She froze and he saw something flash behind her eyes, she quickly chewed and swallowed her mouthful, “Hot glue gun got me,”

“Hm,” He slowly stood up and made his way around their dinner table, standing over her and reaching to hold her hand when she snatched it away, “It's still sensitive.”

“I just want to see how bad is it,” Ray said, tone neutral and stable.

“It's not too bad, I already cleaned it well and wrapped it pretty tight, I can't open the bandage to show you,” She explained, clutching her finger with her hand, and looking at him with her big Bambi eyes. He observed her carefully, about how open and honest she sounded and looked. There's no reason for Ray not to believe her. But then he had a gnawing feeling in his guts, and he learned a long time ago to never ignore it. 

So he smiled, “Dessert?”

She lit up, “Yes, please!”

He'll have to investigate later because he really wants to trust his wife, but he knows from experience not to ignore his gut feeling if he wants to keep on breathing. So for now, he'll serve his lovely wife dessert, clean the table and make love to her that same evening, like he always does. 

. 

. 

. 

“Where were you?”

Ray was greeted at 4 in the morning in his home by his wife standing in the kitchen, wearing his t-shirt and her undies, looking delicious as ever. if it was any other time Ray would already be balls deep inside his wife's perfect cunt, but it wasn't one of those times. 

instead he slammed his duffel down on the counter, in the middle of their kitchen, he opened the bag and took out a brick of clay, the type you can get from art stores, from the same brand that his wife likes the most. he then took his butterfly knife out of his pocket and easily sliced the thing open, and instead of bits of clay falling apart, a neatly wrapped pack of bullets fell with a clank. 

“Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck is this?” Ray said, inhaling sharply and pointing at the bullets and the rest in the duffel bag with his knife. 

His wife didn't move, her arms crossed over her chest and looking at the bullet pack, then slowly raised her eyes to meet his and he frowned, moving a step back when he was met with icyness. 

She unfolded her arms and let them hang at her sides, licking her lower lip as Ray watched, knife in hand and heart hammering in his chest. 

“A regular civilian is not capable of finding that out,” She said and Ray’s fingers started itching, he was hot all over under his clothes and he was so close to doing something he's never done to the love of his life, to his wife, ever. 

“A regular civilian also can't own devices that can't be traced, or work in a company that doesn't fucking exist,” She spat, her previously warm eyes emitting nothing but danger, and all bells in Ray's mind rang loud and clear; he needed to kill her before she kills him.

It all happened so fast, her snatching one of Ray's fancy butcher knives that are magnetised to the wall and dodging Ray throwing the duffel bag at her. Knives sliced the air between them and Ray charged at his wife with everything he got, not holding back, twirling his knife quickly and fast in his fingers, from one hand to the other as he slowly walked her further inside the house, his wife walking backwards, knife in hand and a wild look in her eyes.

She grinned sharp and predatory, “No wonder you're so good with your fingers,”

Ray couldn't hold back his laugh, “What can I say, I'm a natural.”

“How did you figure it out?” She asked, the back of her knees hitting the sofa. 

“Be honest, how did you hurt your finger?” Ray asked. 

“Gunshot,” She answered and Ray didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned. 

“Sorry, babe. Didn't mean to nick you.” He said and watched as her eyes darkened, “You dickhead! Why did you shoot me?! I was after a fucking terrorist!” She shouted, almost giving him a new haircut as he dodged the knife, Ray knocked her off her feet, she fell with a grunt. “It's just protocol, eliminating anyone who gets between me and the target,” 

Ray was about to grab her when she wormed herself away at a fast speed, pushed her body up with ease and balled her fists in front of her, jumping on their glass coffee table, “What sort of fucking company do you work for? I could've been a civilian!”

“Listen– get your feet off the coffee table!” Ray warned. 

“Fuck the coffee table, it's ugly anyway!” She spat and slapped the knife off his hand quickly, and as soon as he lost his knife he jumped her, her own butcher knife flying in the air and landing buried in the sofa. 

Ray fought to hold her still but she was strong and squirmy, hitting him with her elbow on his side, a gasp was punched out of him and he decided then to not hold back, Ray gathered her in his arms and threw her across the room, breaking the window and bringing down the blinds.

When she got her footing back, she glared at him with the power of fifty suns, “I can't believe you hit your wife, Ray.”

“Last time I checked my wife wasn't an assassin,” Ray said, throwing his coat on the sofa and unbuttoning the first 4 fout buttons of his shirt, then rolled the sleeves watching his pretty wife wrap a ripped piece of fabric around both of her wrists, “Your hypocrite, you're an assassin too! And your name is probably not even Raymond Smith either!”

She grabbed Ray's favourite potted plant and threw it at his head, as he dodged the hit, he found himself embraced by his wife, her legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his shoulders, “You know that won't work-” His voice quickly got cut off when she squeezed his neck with the remainings of the blinds, the white fabric pulling tight at his thick neck as he clawed at her to let go.

“Did you even love me? In those 5 years of marriage, was anything real?” She asked, squeezing harder until Ray slammed them both down on the ground, bruising her back, she screamed and he took that second to get her hands off him, finally gulping oxygen into his lungs, “Yes! Yes, I fucking did!”

“Then why didn't you tell me?! Why did you hide??” She shouted, eyes brimming with tears at being slammed down on her back, but also at the anger at being lied to. 

“To protect you, that's why! I can't tell my bride I was a killer, what sort of girl would marry a man like that?!” Raymond said, hovering above her, hair dishevelled and eyes wild. 

She then started giggling, giggling for the love of God. “Ray, my love, the light of my life,” She said, holding his face in her hands, Ray feeling his chest burn at the overwhelming emotions he was feeling, “You told me you were an accountant and I married you. If a girl is willing to marry an accountant, she'll marry an assassin,”

Ray didn't mean to laugh, his eyes burning with unshed tears as she brought his face lower and kissed him gently on the lips, and for a moment everything was okay. 

That's when she decided to grab him and flip them around, squeezing his head between her thighs and pulling at his arm, hard. 

“Even though I really did love you. Don't even think I'll let you go, now. I'm not a civilian, baby, and you'll do well to remember that.” She threatened and Ray grinned, he won't have her any other way. 

He brought his free arm up and squeezed at her naked thigh, “Are we fighting or fucking? I'm getting mixed signals here.”

“Oh, can it, Mr Smith,” She squeezed his head tighter, cutting off his oxygen as he gasped and relaxed her hold, just to give him a taste of what's to come if he tries to run away. 

Their short moment of peace was erupted with a rain of bullets. Raymond both threw them on the ground, under the range of the gunfire. 

“What the fuck!” She cursed and when the gunfire finally stopped, Raymond dragged her up the stairs and the gunfire resumed as they tried not to get hit, “Meet me in my studio, okay?” She said and Ray nodded, turning to get to their bedroom, to probably, well, most definitely get a gun. She was about to turn around when he grabbed her by the back of her neck and kissed her hard, when he pulled away she grinned, her cheeks warming up.

“Go on, then.” He smirked, patting her cheek and sneaking to their bedroom as she made her way to the studio, quickly grabbing every hidden weapon in the room and shoving it all in a backpack, she opened the window and hopped on her desk, and looked outside, immediately spotting guys from her organisation, and others most definitely from Ray's firm. And, they definitely weren't here for tea. 

She quickly loaded her gun and waited on her desk for Ray, the wind making her shiver under her t-shirt and undies. She was totally barefoot too, but she'll worry about that later. 

“Mr. & Mrs. Smith! Come out whenever you are! You know the rules! No banging the competition!” A voice called out and she cursed under her breath, then gunshots resumed, in that moment Ray walked inside the studio, greeted by her gunpoint, “Let's go,” He placed her pair of Uggs in her lap and nodded at the window facing their garage. 

“That's what took you so long? My fucking shoes?“ She said, quickly slipping them on and hopping out of the window, walking slowly on the roof to then jump down behind the house. “You're not walking barefoot in the streets, it's really unsanitary.” Raymond said, disgusted. 

They sneaked inside the garage, getting inside the car, Ray in the driver's seat and her in the passenger's, with the two bags of weapons and other stuff by her feet as the garage door opened up automatically, catching the attention of the other assassins, “Put your seatbelt on,” Ray said, absolutely running over anyone jumping in front of their Mercedes as she shot them out of her window, Ray driving furiously down their street. 

“You got me shoes but didn't think to get me trousers?” She said, pointing at her lap, she was still wearing underwear.

“You look great, don't worry.” He shrugged as she glared at him, “My ass is freezing, just so you know.”

“I'll warm it up for you later.” Ray said, smoothly driving down the empty road, looking at the rear mirror every minute or so, making sure they were not being chased.

I really wanted to write something for like secret spy AU or something. but didn't know how to do it. only that I wanted it to be funny n sexy in a way. so I luckily remembered that Mr and Mrs Smith 2005 was still in my watchlist. so I watched the movie and immediately wrote this after finishing the movie. and I used Ray Smith cuz his name is ALREADY smith and I'm in love w him so yeah 😍😩

[reveluving]

I need him. 🫠

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

As love and its Decisive Pain

Main Masterlist

I had some thoughts and had to write them down, so here we are.

Title inspo

Contains: Fluff, loving husband Ray, impact play with a flogger, bondage, smut (fingering, sex toys, P in V) aftercare. Not beta read.

2.1K words

Ray goes shopping

The narrow, cobbled stone street was one of Ray's favourites. The area, which was once a red light district back when the Thames was filthy and a loaf of bread cost a few cents, still had an illicitness about it, like the pleasure and vice still lingered in the air. Up an old set of poorly lit steps and left through a glass door into a store with walls lined with goods that would make The Marquis De Sade blush.

"Mr Smith, good to see you again. I was just about to call you about a new piece." Mavis, the woman at the counter, ducked down and produced a long black flogger with the strangest handle he had ever seen. "It came in yesterday. Nice thudy fall with no sting, and the handle," she handed to Ray as he approached the bench. "It's muti use."

The handle was made of the smoothest metal he had ever felt and it took up the heat of his hand like it was enchanted. "How much."

Mavis smiled. "For you, five hundred." He slid the money across the counter as she packed it in a fancy black box. "Anything else today?"

He shook his head. "No thank you, Ma'am. Pass my compliments onto the Leatherworker, they did some wonderful work." He left with a wave and a smile on his face, tonight was going to be delightful.

Ray did his best to fight back his smile as he walked into his home library. You were sitting, curled up on his favourite chair by the window and flashed him a warm smile when you set eyes on him. "Hello Dearest, I wasn't expecting you until six."

He smiled. "Micky let me off early. I got you something." He took the box from under his arm and placed it on the table. "I think you'll like it."

You took your time opening it, untying the ribbon before pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, Beloved, I just wanted to get you something nice." He sat next to you and pressed his lips to the side of your face. "Do you like it?"

You removed the flogger from the box and ran your fingers through the many tails. "Oh yes, I love it. Thank you." You placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him. "Can we use it tonight?"

He grinned against your lips. "Of course."

You return your attention to the implement in your hand; the hilt was odd, it was longer than any others you owned, with two sections separated by a guard, it was only when you took a closer look at the pommel that it registered. "Oh, that's interesting."

His beard scratched your skin as his teeth nipped your ear. "I thought so too." He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed you as his hand slid up your shirt, only when you were breathless did he pull away to speak. "I'm going to cook you dinner, then you're all mine."

The bedroom was pleasantly warm, as were Ray's hands as he undressed you. "You remember what to say if you want to stop?"

You nodded. "Poppy."

He smiled. "Good girl." The rope he looped around your wrists so he could tie you to the bed posts was soft, each knot made carefully for your comfort. There was enough tension so that when your legs eventually gave out, you would stay standing, your back remaining a perfect target for him to land every well placed strike.

To anyone outside the room, it must have looked like some lurid facsimile of a crucifixion, you standing naked, your arms spread open with each one tied to a bedpost, but it was one of the most erotic things Ray had ever seen. The brush of leather on your skin was gentle, a mere promise of things to come. "Are you ready, my Darling?"

You took a deep breath. "Yes."

The first few hits were soft, an easy warm up so you could fall into the sensation in relaxed comfort. There was a pause and his eyes met yours as a warm, calloused hand found your back, feeling the growing heat coming off your skin before his voice filled the air, already tight and filled with lust. "Are you ready for more?"

"Please." The next hit wasn't soft and it had your muscles coiling to avoid jolting too much in your bonds. He paused to wait for you to relax before delivering the next one, and the second you stopped tensing, they came in steady succession until he hit a pleasant rhythm that filled the room with satisfying thuds.

When he came around to your front this time, his shirt was rolled up to his forearms, and his pupils had all but taken over the pretty blue of his eyes. "So, do you like it?"

"I do, very much."

He smiled and scratched your heated skin, the feeling mixing with the dull ache of his hits and sending tingles up and down your flesh. "Good. Would you like more?"

You nodded. "Yes please."

He pecked your check before disappearing from view again and the hits began once more. Time grew fuzzy around the edges, like he had wrapped your brain in cotton wool and you fell into the support of the rope like a sailor falls into the safety of a hammock. Eventually he stopped, returning to your side as he ran his hand up and down your back. "I think it's time we move on."

He placed the flogger down for the moment and ducked under your arm so he could stand in front of you. The kiss he took you in was filled with lust and he didn't even give you a moment on control as he nipped your lower lip. He slowly ran his hand down your body, his fingers seeking until they reached your core. "Fucken hell, you're so fucken wet Sweetheart, is this all for me?"

He must have meant for the question to be rhetorical because there was no way you could give him a clear answer when his index finger circled your clit. He watched your face as he slid two fingers inside you, smiling to himself as your expression grew tight with pleasure. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

He pulled away and your eyes popped open, and you watched as he stepped away, making his way to his bedside drawer to collect a bottle of lube. Each movement was full of intention as he picked up the flogger by the bottom part of the hilt below the guard and spread a generous amount of lube on the pommel. The metal was surprisingly cold, given how it felt when you first held it. He rubbed it through your folds and you felt him grab your face with insistent fingers as your eyes drifted closed. "No, don't close your eyes, I want to watch you feel it."

The second your eyes met his, he slid the hilt inside you in one long, persistent push. He paused for a moment to admire the glassiness of your eyes and the way your breath caught in your chest before slowly pulling it out and then using the same slow, steady pace to slide it back in. The smooth steel was unforgiving hard, and guided by Ray, it pressed against your walls in a way that made you feel unbelievably full. He changed the angle so the rounded head of the pommel pressed against our G-spot with each pass and mercifully, he allowed your eyes to close as your head fell against your bicep.

He seemed intent on torturing you, never picking up speed or adding force but something about the unrelenting pressure and hardness of the hilt increased the pleasure growing in your core regardless. He shifted, never letting go of the flogger and you felt him press himself against your back as he resumed fucking you with it. He was hard in his trousers and it seemed the whole scene was affecting him just as much as you as he began to whisper praise in your ear.

Soon enough, Ray's persistence began to pay off and you felt yourself grow closer to the edge, but as your thighs closed around his hand involuntarily, you felt his foot kick at you calf. "Keep your legs open or you'll regret it." There was no force in the kick, it was nothing more than a tap but for a moment, you felt the same level of helplessness that you imagine the men who ran afoul of him felt when he kicked them to the ground.

You planted your feet on the ground and forced yourself to keep your legs still. "I'm sorry."

He smiled and pressed his lips to the back of your neck as he slid his free hand down your body to run your clit. "Hush, just be the good girl I know you can." While the push of the hilt remained languid, his fingers were fast and the juxtaposition was as confusing as it was enrapturing. "Are you going to come for me?"

You nodded. "Yes, if you want me to."

He smiled as his teeth nipped at your shoulder. "Of course I do." All most as if by magic, you fell into bliss as he sucked a mark into your skin. It was wave after wave of intensity while he poured praise over you like you were Venus in the shell. He slowly slid the handle from you, and you heard it thud before he untied you, allowing you to lean your back against his chest as you found your legs. "Can I have you tonight or will it be too much?"

You shook your head. "No, I don't want to stop."

"Good." He took your hand and led you to the side of the bed, pulling back the covers and gesturing for you to lie down while he undressed. The carefulness was a show in itself, each item coming off slowly before being folded and placed down on a chair. He was deceptively large under his clothes and watching his cock spring free as he slid his black boxers down his legs had your mouth watering.

He shot you a cocky grin as he closed the distance and climbed onto the bed, manhandling you until you were lying under him. He leaned down and kissed you, his beard scratching your skin as one hand trailed down your body so he could lift your legs over his waist. He shifted onto his elbow as his hand slid up your thigh then between you, wrapping around his cock so he could line himself up.

He met eyes with you, his expression going soft. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. "Yes please."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he groaned, his hips twitching as he fought to maintain control of himself. "Fucken 'll Love, your cunt could kill a man." His whole body coiled as his hips started to shift, a rhythm that had the head of his cock brushing your G-spot with each stroke. You clung to him, trying to match his pace as he pushed you closer to the edge. After the steel of the flogger hilt, Ray's cock felt positivity molten and the heat of bare skin against yours had a comforting heat spreading from every point of contact.

His words had turned into a hushed prayer, said more to himself than you as he wove a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. "Come on Love, you gotta come for me."

It happened slowly this time, a radiating warmth emanating from his cock, through your core and to the tips of your fingers and toes. His pace picked up as he chased his own high, the hand that was on your clit curling into your hip in a pushing clasp as he neared the edge. He took you in a kiss, equal part loving and rough as you felt him pulse inside you, and his muscles faltered as his hips stuttered and his weight fell on you.

His forehead rested on yours as he caught his breath, gazing into your eyes lovingly as he smiled softly. "Thank you."

You giggled. "Shouldn't I be thanking you?"

He chuckled and rolled off you, bringing you with him as you rested your head on his chest. "No, you are the one that is so ready to give yourself to me whenever and for whatever I ask and I'll always be grateful for that."

You sighed and pressed your lips to his chest. "You're really sweet when you want to be."

He smiled and brushed his fingers over your cheek. "Yeah, well when you're ready I'm going to run you a bath and get you clean up then we can get some sleep. How does that sound?"

You nodded. "It sounds good. I love you Ray."

His lips were soft when he placed them on your forehead. "I love you too y/n."

Fin

[persephone411]

Raymond Smith as a Dom headcanon

My Masterlist

Firstly, I don’t think he is a sadist

For him it’s about control, not pain

Strict, but gentle

Lots of sensory play. He would blindfold you and tie your wrists with silk ribbons above your head.Then the true fun would start for him

He would start slowly, deep kisses while he massages your waist, then his mouth would wander downwards, kissing your chin and neck

His beard scratching your skin and causing goosebumps

His large,warm hands moving along your ribs and hips

He definitely has a size kink and loves how big his hands are on your body

Enjoys the view of you squirming on the bed due to his teasing.

Loves to use ice cubes in the bedroom

Gifts you expensive lingerie and adores how you look in it

The first time he came from work and you opened the door wearing only lingerie and an open robe, he immediately dragged you into the bedroom

Needless to say that you were sore for days afterwards

Likes to be referred to as master or sir

Calls you pet or angel

Definitely has a collar for you

Like I said, he isn’t a sadist, but does punish you when you decide to be bratty

His favorite punishment for you is edging

Bringing you close to an orgasm with his fingers or mouth, but then stopping.

Would definitely make you beg for an orgasm

King of dirty talk

Outside of the bedroom he is protective and and dominant in a non sexual way

Always has an arm wrapped around your waist or stands behind you with his hands on your hips

[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

[watchtowerindistress]

Charlie Hunnam-verse

Raymond Smith (The Gentlemen)

One-shots

overcome that little challenge 💦

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

Arthur Pendragon (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword)

Mini-series

are you falling for me…? 💉

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

💦 ~ smut

💉 ~ violence

[rayslittlekitten]

You Won't Let Me

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

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

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

Word Count:  1,378

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t an excuse–” Ray starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ray glares at you.

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

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

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

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

“Stop it!” Ray snarls. 

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

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

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

“Get up,” he commands.

“Make me!” You repeat.

“This isn’t a game!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! Not until you-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I interrupting something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ray lets out a breath of relief.

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

“Yes, boss,” Ray nods.

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

[hoteldreamss]

Raymond Smith || imagine

Метки: немного ангст; счастливый финал; бывшие супруги

Слов: 954

Реймонд наблюдает за тобой. Ты сидишь на его диване, в его доме. Уже поздно и тебе следовало вернуться в собственную квартиру, а не быть здесь со своим бывшим мужем.

Ты слегка устала за этот день. Вам снова пришлось работать вместе, чего ты не желала, узнав об этом, но выбора не было. Рэймонд хороший работник, знающий своё дело, как и ты, и ваше начальство знало об этом.

— У меня есть для тебя кое-что, — произносит Смит, исчезая за твоей спиной.

Ты немного выпила, но трезвость сознания всё ещё не ускользнула от тебя. Наблюдая за Рэймондом, ты стараешься не пялиться на него слишком долго. Конечно, вы в разводе и ты всё ещё помнишь, что не должна делать лишнего, но что-то внутри тебя весь день неприятно скребётся. Это скулящее чувство в твоём сердце, стоит тебе посмотреть на своего бывшего мужа.

Смит подходит к тебе, держа в руках небольшую коробку. Он садится рядом с тобой, после чего протягивает её тебе. Чёрная, матовое покрытие, гладкая и выглядит дорого, перевязанная ленточкой с названием одного из лучших ювелирных магазинов Англии.

Ты принимаешь её, отставив стакан с алкоголем в сторону.

— Зачем это? — интересуешься ты, всё ещё несмотря на Рэймонда.

— Я заказ тебе подарок, когда мы ещё были вместе, на твой день рождения. После развода я забыл отменить заказ, не уверен, что они вообще приняли бы отмену, — произносит Рэй, поправляя очки на переносице указательным пальцем, когда его локти упираются в колени. — Ты знаешь, как они работают.

Ты сомневаешься, что Рэй мог что-то забыть. Он определённо не тот, кто склонен к забывчивости. Кто угодно только не Р��ймонд.

— Мой день рождение был три месяца назад, — произносишь ты. В твоём тоне нет претензии, но Рэй понимает твой скрытый вопрос. Почему он не подарил тебе его раньше, выслал бы по почте, или попросил доставить кого-то из своих людей. Он также мог бы продать его, но вместо этого коробка лежала в его доме пару месяцев точно.

— Не было времени разобраться с этим, — лукавит Рэй, смотря на тебя. Ты знаешь, что он врёт, а он знает, что ты знаешь. Вы видите друг друга насквозь, но к счастью Рэймонда ты больше ничего не говоришь, и он благодарен тебе за это.

Потянув за ленточку, ты избавляешься от неё, затем поднимаешь крышку коробки. Перед тобой серебряный браслет, с драгоценными камнями. Он выглядит изящно, это не просто украшение ради украшения, оно сделано так, что ты могла бы его носить. Это в твоём стиле. Твои пальцы касаются прохладного металла, и ты смотришь на браслет, переворачивая его. Надпись прописью, инициалы твои и Рэймонда. Ты переводишь на него взгляд, встречаясь с его голубыми глазами. Он хотел видеть как ты отреагируешь. Его натура желала угодить, желала услышать благодарность за хорошую работу, потому что он старался сделать твой подарок особенным и личным.

— Это очень красиво. — Твой тон сдержанный, и ты умалчиваешь, что любой подарок от Рэймонда значил бы так много для тебя, чтобы он не подарил, ты знаешь, что это всегда будет для тебя самым значимой вещью на свете.

— Ты можешь продать его, если тебя смущает это, — произносит Смит, понимая, как сейчас, неуместно дарить тебе что-то напоминающее о вашем браке.

Ты не знаешь, что будешь делать. Тебе хотелось бы оставить подарок, но это могло быть неправильным жестом. Ваш брак был неудачным, законченным, и ты не хотела травить себе душу, имея вечное напоминание о мужчине, которого ты кажется до сих пор любишь.

— Спасибо, Рэймонд. Он на самом деле очень красивый.

Смит смотрит на то, как ты убираешь браслет обратно в коробку.

Ему кажется, что сейчас наиболее подходящий момент, лучшего не будет, больше не будет.

Его ладонь ложится на твою. Как всегда, его руки тёплые, даже если твои совершенно лишены холода. Он зовёт тебя, хотя его прикосновения и так привлекли твоё внимание.

— Мне жаль, что между нами всё закончилось таким образом. — Его взгляд прикован к тебе. — Но... я хотел бы попробовать ещё раз, сделать на этот раз всё правильно.

Ты молчишь. В твоём сердце и в мыслях происходит что-то странное, напоминающее сильный, но тихий ветер, крупные волны на пляже, которые могут предвещать бурю, но также успокаивают. Несмотря на различные мысли, ворохом крутящиеся у тебя в сознании, в твоей душе безмятежность, титаническое спокойствие.

— Я должен был попытаться ещё в первый раз, наш брак важен для меня. Мне жаль, дорогая, что я облажался с этим.

— Рэй, — ты не знаешь что хочешь сказать. Отказаться, лишив себя и его всякой надежды кажется правильным и лёгким.

Он будто чувствует твоё желание.

— Я люблю тебя, до сих пор, и я не думаю, что когда-нибудь перестану это делать, — признаётся Смит.

Ты смотришь на его руку на твоей. Твоё тело скучало по нему, по его объятиям, теплу, нежности. Ты на самом деле уже забыла насколько тебе нравилось проводить с ним время.

Ты поправляешь волосы, всё ещё думая над словами Рэймонда. Ты чувствовала то же самое. Так же не имея возможности избавиться от любви к нему, ты сжигала своё сердце каждый раз вспоминая своего мужа.

— Мы могли бы попробовать, — срывается с твоих губ.

Радость моментально захватывает его. Ты также расплываешься в улыбке, когда видишь Рэя улыбающегося. Наклонившись к нему, ты даришь поцелуй, нежный, но настойчивый. Он кладёт ладонь твоё колено, когда ты отрываешься от него, смотря в его голубые глаза.

— Я хочу попросить остаться тебя на ночь, — произносит он, смотря на тебя с неподдельным обожанием. — Но ты откажешь мне, верно?

— Да, извини, но... знаешь, я не отошла ещё от развода со своим мужем, не могу бросаться в кровать с первым встречным.

Смешок вырывается из его груди, когда ладонь скользит выше, забираясь к тебе под юбку, но капроновая ткань не позволяет дотронуться до твоей кожи на мягком месте.

— Я заеду завтра за тобой в семь? Что скажешь?

— В семь.

Рэймонд целует тебя, прижимая тебя к себе ближе. Он истосковался по тебе, по твоим прикосновениям, ласкам и компании, совершенно одичавший и голодный. Но ты очевидно не позволишь ему насытиться тобой раньше времени.

[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 exception 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 haf a smile plastered on his face. He was 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.

[wetpussyju1ce]

Mr. & Mrs Smith pt. 2

Assassin!Ray Smith x Assassin!fem reader

+18. mdni

assassin ray who goes ballistic if anyone puts their hands on his wife, she can handle herself, can send her own husband to the hospital but he still can't help it. so when he ends up gunning down the assassins trying to kill them just for being together, he goes to the other room, looking for his wife and finds her on the floor, clawing at a man choking her out, trying to kill her, and Ray sees red, “Hands off my fucking wife!”

The man looks up and is greeted by Ray's gunpoint, “I said; Hands. off.”

the man slowly lets go and she starts coughing, crawling away from under him and gets up as Ray points his gun straight at him. she stands by his side, a hand holding her neck as Ray asks, “What do they want?”

“They want you dead.” The man answered. 

“Obviously, you fucking twat, why?” Ray hissed.

“They're scared you'll trade firm secrets; double agent stuff.” The man answered and Ray looked at his woman, then back at the man, and without another second thought, pulled the trigger, giving him a neat hole in the middle of his forehead. 

“Firm secrets, what a joke.” His wife muttered and he agreed.

Ray, who even though they're technically on the run, still manages to look for his wife's favourite snacks when they quickly stop for gas and he goes to buy some fags cuz he KNOWS he'll be needing a couple after tonight's shitshow. and when they're back on the road, he hands them to her, w a hand sanitiser and tissues, of course. She thanks him with a big kiss to his cheek and starts munching away as he drives them to the other side of the country. 

Ray who at the first opportunity buys his wife a pair of sweats to wear, because she's still in her panties and it's getting brighter outside, the world is waking up and she's bound to catch attention w a pair of legs and ass like hers. and when she slips them on, they fit absolutely perfect because he knows all her sizes by heart, and knows to get her a size up so they're baggy and extra comfy around the waist. 

Ray who gets a special kind of twinkle in his eye when he gets his hands on any type of big firearms. he loves them big w lots of buttons to mess with. after all, he's just a boy w a special love for tinkering n messing w machines. His wife notices and her heart grows twice as big at the sight. because he's so freaking cute, getting giddy over using big guns. she cant help the smile that pulls at her lips while watching her husband light up an alley w his machine gun, putting multiple holes in each assassin coming after them.

Ray who's concerned the second his wife groans and clutches at her arm, looking in pain and Ray immediately asks, “Who hurt you?” 

She points out a bleeding corpse, and he shoots it once, “Here, you'll be okay, darling,” And she smiles at him, as he kisses his thumb and middle finger together and presses it to where it hurts, and they leave a sea of broken and bloody bodies behind, hand in hand. 

Ray who finds out Fletcher was the one who ratted them out to their firms for money. who managed to get photographic evidence of them both together. a mundane picture really, them coming out of the big Tesco, Ray pushing their trolley while his wife is opening a pack of Maltesers. 

But Ray doesn't care. he hates it when people feel privy to his private life. he doesn't appreciate that kind of disrespect, at all. especially when there's a possibility that Fletcher could've taken a photograph of his lovely wife doing literally anything, like painting in their garden in nothing but a bikini under the sun. 

His wife quickly learned how protective Ray actually was. Before she knew his real occupation, she just appreciated it when he used his whole body as a shield to protect her from unwanted touches or attention. Or when that one time a tipsy man, at the pub, accidentally dropped his wallet on her lap and reached to grab it just for Ray to grab his wrist in a flash. The man winced and Ray relaxed his hold, but dragged the man's hand up on the counter instead, grabbed the wallet on his own and slapped it on the man's hand with a tight smile. She only watched and didn't move an inch, smiling big when Ray asked her to switch seats w him.

It wasn't anything big, but it was enough for her to praise and lean her whole body against him, giving him tiny kisses on his beard once in a while, dying at how adorable he was, and that was just when she thought her sweet and attentive civilian husband was just an accountant with a smidge of OCD.

But now that he could freely express what he could and would do for his wife, was the most thrilling and addicting feeling.

When she wasn't slicing her way through skin and guts, or shooting men dead until her hand burned around the gun handle, she would stand there and watch her Ray absolutely terrorise the other assassins. She would watch with her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes now practically hearts, toying w her fingers like a lovestruck teenager. It was so exciting. 

And when Ray would meet her eyes, he would grin and she would giggle, skipping to where he was, standing over a now cooling body and giving him a cheeky kiss to the corner of his mouth. then they would leave on a stolen car, breaking every road law and rule. 

And when she finds them a way to get out of the country, Ray realises he has to change his appearance, so he sits on the dingy motel room bed, abt to shave his beard off, he'll do it, but he's just saying goodbye to his facial hair before he has to get rid of it all and cut his hair shorter. At least his wife will only need to dye her hair. 

When she realises he's abt to get rid of one of her favourite things abt him, she whines and already mourns the loss. but then realises that actually, he showed her a picture of him when he was much younger and he looked incredibly handsome under the facial hair, so really, there won't be much of a loss. 

So before he shaves it all off, she asks him if he'd be up to eating her out one last time as a farewell ritual to his beard lmao. 

And Ray would never say no to her, so just to be extra safe, he goes ahead and washes his face, soaps his beard and rinses it, just so all that he gives his pretty wife is redness from the friction. and they go to town, oh they do that the next door guests bang on the wall and shout at them but Ray doesn't give a rats ass and his wife is in another planet as he pounds her to Sunday.

When that's all said and done. Ray finally shaves all of his beard off and she helps him, tilting his head this and that way, even using scissors and a blade when needed. then it was his hair. he thought abt buzzing it all off but she just asked him to hand her to scissors and brush. So she cut almost all of his beautiful prince charming hair, left a little at the top then shaved the sides shorter, giving him a fade of some sort. and at the end when he looks at himself in the mirror he feels so naked. so different. 

“Wow, you look like my boyfriend, not my husband.” She says while standing behind him, looking at the bathroom mirror, a towel wrapped around her chest, hair wrapped in clingfilm. 

Ray frowns in confusion, a hand on his cheek, “Excuse me?”

“You look like my bad boy boyfriend who scares my parents, not my mature dilfy husband,” She says and Ray is still confused, “Do you like it?”

“Hm?”

“Do you like my face? Without the beard?” He asks, turning around to face her. 

She places a hand on his big shoulder, and squeezes the muscle, “I'd let you do unspeakable things to me with or without the beard, love.”

He smiles and rubs his eyes, “I need my glasses…”

“They're on the bed, I need to wash my hair,” She says, kissing him on the cheek and he hums, walking out of the bathroom with his hands on his hips, dad style.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Let There Be Hotel Complaints

Based on a post request by @rayslittlekitten I really hope you like it, I have no idea if it fits but I tried hard.

Title based on: Hozier - Dinner & Diatribes

Contains: Fluff, Ray being Gomez Addams, mentions of periods/period symptoms, smut (fingering, oral sex M and F receiving, P in V, breeding kink, possessive Ray, scents and smells, aftercare) Not beta read.

3.5K words.

Ray's feelings for you are as wide as the ocean, and his love is second only to his desire.

The hand that wrapped around your body felt like hot coals on your already heated skin, and you fought the urge to shrink away from Ray. "Raymond, I've been put in the garden working, can you let me shower before you hug me?" His arms only tightened around as you felt his chest expand against your back as he pressed his nose into your sweat-damped neck. "Ray! I'm covered in sweat."

He checked, and the sound reverberated through your body like the first rumbles of a thunderstorm. "I don't mind, Dear, you smell wonderful." His face moved to the top of your head as he took another breath, admiring how your conditioner mixed with a hard day's work. It drifted into his mind like the reaching of a siren song, slowly bleeding away his other thoughts.

His lips found your neck, and he smirked against your skin as your head tilted to make room for him. A quick glance at the clock let him know you'd have enough time to enjoy each other before the fancy business dinner tonight, and he found himself slowly unlacing from the hug as he brought one hand to your breast.

He gained more access to your skin, and you rested your head back onto his shoulder and pushed yourself into his touch, but he was pulling his hand away a second later when he felt you stiffen as he tightened his grip around your soft flesh. "Sorry, Love."

"It's ok, I'm just a little sore." There was no explanation needed as to why, you knew he knew why, he always seemed to know.

His hand moved lower, rubbing the skin of your ribcage in long, soothing strokes as his lips moved from the dome of your shoulder up your neck. "Allow me to make it up to you?"

The offer was the definition of temptation, but there were things to be done and places to be. "Tonight, if all goes well at the dinner. I have to finish with the garden and then get ready for tonight."

The teeth against your skin were not in retaliation for your conditional refusal but a promise of things to come. "Then let me help you?"

"Of course." Your reason was wholly selfish, motivated by rolled up sleeves and rippling muscles at his instance of lifting heavy bags of soil. You finished your glass of water and went back outside, not missing how Ray's eyes followed your arms as you placed your sun hat back on your head. He smiled at you, it was earnest and filled with warmth. "What do you need me to do, Gorgeous?"

You couldn't help yourself, there was something in his desire to aid you in every need that sparked something in you. "Many things, My Darling, but right now, I need help with the tea roses."

He smiled and took two steps to close the distance between you before brushing his lips on your ear. "Your wish is my command."

****

The rest of the afternoon swam by in a haze for Ray. It was the kind of torture that the training he had received many lifetimes ago could not prepare him for, and with each passing moment, his thoughts grew more debauched until he was waxing poetic in his head like a madman.

As you finished your makeup, he could not get the image of you licking the strawberry juice from your lunchtime dessert off your lips out of his head. Breathing through his nose had become an affliction; top notes of your shower gel and the underneath of you were one thing, but there was the faintest hint of him there that made him want to sink his teeth in your bare skin so many times that the hotel's tofts would look away in shame the moment they saw you.

By the time you slid into the car, pressing your legs to his as Bunny drove you to the hotel, he was afire with need. He laced his hand with yours as the vehicle travelled down from the lush countryside to the bright lights of the city and leaned in close, his nose brushing your temple as he told you more about the guests at the party you were heading to.

There were already people milling around when you arrived, handing their bags off to the Bellhops so they could enjoy their complementary night in luxury. Ray was less willing to relinquish the bags and simply blinked as the hotelier became insistent. Nevertheless, the man still walked to your room on the sixth floor, smiling saccharinely as he told you to enjoy the complimentary champagne before the party started.

The opulence of the room and the expensive champagne sat ignored by you and Ray as he steeled himself for a night of making nice and glad-handing when he would rather be doing something far more enjoyable. He took your hands and drew you to the middle of the room, wrapping his arms around you as his nose returned to your hair for the millionth time that day. "You look beautiful as always."

You smiled and placed your hands on his chest. "And you keep sniffing me like some weirdo."

He took it in stride, chuckling softly as he yanked you to his chest. "I can't help it, you smell exquisite, it's driving me insane."

You sighed, enjoying the warmth of his arms around you. "I know what you're thinking, but we promised Mickey."

He mirrored your sigh as he broke the embrace and extended his hand. "I know. We should head down there now, the sooner we go down and mingle, the sooner we can leave."

His hand found your lower back as you took the lift to the grand hall and stayed there as you met up with Mickey and Rosalind and made introductions with the upper class lucky enough to receive invites. Of course, the reason for your invitations was the massive underground white widow super cheese farm under the hotel's private golf course.

It was painfully dull, standing around making small talk about the weather and wallpaper while eating tiny pies that only served to make you more hungry. Ray stayed stuck to your side, practically dragging you around with him while he did business for his boss.

"Your wife looks lovely tonight." Ray's arm tightened around you as you spun towards the voice.

"She looks lovely every night, Dave." If Dave had plans to say more, they were defeated by Ray's harsh glare as he pulled you away.

He moved to a quiet corner of the room and placed your hand on his ample bicep. "What's gotten into Ray? You've just about ripped the heads off anyone who's talked to me tonight. I get Dave, but the Simon's are nice."

He moved into your space, pressing you against the window as he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger while he leaned in close enough that your noses were brushing. To outsiders, it would have looked like a private moment between lovers, but Ray's eyes were fixed on with a look so lustful it would have made the whore of Babylon blush. "What's gotten into me? I have spent the last two hours watching these pigs look you up and down while acting like I don't want to rip their arms off for even daring to speak to you."

You blinked, he was in a mood tonight. "Well, Dear. How about you stick it out for another hour so we can eat dinner from this stupid menu then, I'm all yours for the night?"

He swallowed and exhaled before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "Of course Darling." His tone had shifted; it had taken on that gravelly tilt that created a flutter of excitement in your chest, and you eagerly headed back into the fray as Ray finally composed himself.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek as he leaned into your touch. "Thank you, Dear."

****

The dinner was the typical mess of rich people's food that had too many flavours and not enough on the plate, but Ray gave you all his cheese twirls and made sure to pick you the biggest slice of chocolate cake off the platter when dessert came around. All was going well until the tables were cast aside again for the wine course, and you were split from him as one of the tofts Mickey looked after pulled him away to talk about security.

His eye kept drifting over to you, and he grew ever more aggravated as he watched the sommelier try and fail to flirt with you. He dismissed the man he was talking to with the promise to call later, that he was tired and wanted to enjoy his hotel room and all but stormed over to you. "Are you enjoying the wine, Dear?"

You shook your head. "I've told the sommelier that I'm not interested in that variety, but he's being very insistent."

The man smiled and turned to Ray. "We have some of the best wine in the country here, your girlfriend…"

If looks could kill, Ray would have ended the man there and then. "My wife isn't interested, and I don't appreciate your tone or your attitude. I will be speaking to your employer in the morning to deal with this in full."

His hand was back on your lower back as he marched towards the lift, and between his puffed chest and his expression, no one dared to join you as the doors opened. The second the doors closed, he was on you, pressing you against the wall as his lips found yours. The grip he had on you was almost painful, his fingers digging firm into your skin as he held you in place for a searing kiss that stole the air from your lungs.

He finally allowed you to breathe when the doors opened on your floor, and he all but dragged you to your room as he shut the door and pressed up against it. His lips were on yours again, and his hands slid around your body until his fingers were curling around the fabric of your evening dress and ripping it open with the pop pop of fancy buttons.

He shoved the dress down, breaking from your lips for a moment to take in the lingerie you were wearing. "Fucking hell y/n." That went next, and his lips didn't give you the chance to admonish him about what he had paid for the now ruined fabric lying at your feet.

He once again broke from you and knelt on the floor, removing your shoes one by one before kissing his way up your legs, swapping legs with each kiss, getting closer and closer to your centre with each one until he slowed at the crease of the thigh. He was once again inhaling like he was suffocating, and you wove your hands into his hair as your frustration grew. "Can you do something instead of sniffing me?"

His teeth sunk into your skin in retaliation, and he was standing up to his full height with eyes full of threat. "Don't rush me." His hand cupped you, his fingers running your rapidly gathering wetness as he all but growled at you. "This cunt is mine, I get to take all the time I want, understand?"

You almost wanted to act out to see what it would make him do, but the poor man already looked pained enough. "Anything you want."

He locked you in another kiss, his teeth smarting at your lip as he made his wants known with a gentle pressure on your shoulders. "Get on your knees."

He kicked your ruined dress under you to soften the ground as you sunk down, and you pulled at his belt to free him. He helped you, shoving his trousers and boxers down in one go just far enough so his cock could spring out and you could grab his perfect ass unencumbered by fabric.

He looked down at you as you kitten licked around the head and felt another rush of this heated primal positiveness that he had been feeling the whole night. A hand found the back of your head as you took him into your mouth, and his free hand shot out to rest on a side table to steady himself as pleasure filled his senses.

He stopped himself from bucking his hips in order to focus on the vision of you sucking him like a lollipop. It was outright pornographic, and all he could think about was that you were all his and his alone. "Fucken 'ell, Love." You moaned around him, and he used every ounce of self-control to pull you off of him and to your feet. "Get on the bed."

His hands were all over you as you made your way to the bed, and he ran his hands up and down your sides while you spun around to face him so you could lay on your back on the plush mattress. You settled on the pillows as his lips met yours, and he finally began to remove his clothes.

Bare skin hit bare skin as his lips started a journey down your body until he was lifting your legs over his strong shoulders and onto his solid back. He kissed the bend of your knee, his lips soft as his beard brushed your skin. He locked eyes with you and smiled softly as he continued his journey upwards, finally arriving with barely there kisses that had you pushing your hips towards him. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours." A hot, wet heat enveloped you as he licked you from the entrance to clit in one firm, wide lick before sealing his lips around your clit. Ray had always been a man who prided himself on his attention to detail, and your bedroom was no different; it was like he had committed precisely what you needed to memory so well that he didn't even need to try, and tonight was no different.

He seemed more desperate tonight; accuracy swapped for the burning desire to consume your whole, and it didn't help that he was moaning against your flesh like he could somehow feel what he was doing to you in his own body. The chorus of his name from your mouth only served to spur him on, and a forearm pressed your hips down so you couldn't move away from him as he used his free hand to slide two fingers inside you.

With his rough fingertips bullying your G-spot, you didn't stand a chance, and he was far too strong for you to twitch away for a reprieve as the waves of an earth-shattering orgasm took you like the undertow of a raging river. Your chest heaved as he pulled away, and he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before bringing his soaked fingers to your lips. You licked him clean only to have him kiss away the taste like you had slighted him by taking him up on his offer, and then he was slotting himself between your spread wide legs and grinding his cock against your sensitive skin. "Tell me me you're mine."

"I'm yours." You marvelled at his self-control, his face buried in your neck as he continued teasing you. "I'm yours, please Ray."

He took his cock in hand and notched it at your entrance. "Who do you belong to?"

"You." Your reply was desperate, your hands on his heated chest with fingers curled in a threat should he persist in his game, but he didn't, and seemly satisfied with your declaration, he slid inside you with one confident push. The fullness of it stole the air from your lungs, and you lifted your hips up to take him in faster as he bottomed out.

His hand found your hip, and his fingers dug in with force as he began to move, taking a steady pace that had the head of his cock brushing your G-spot with each pass. One of your hands wove into his hair while the other clutched at his back, and he pressed his lips to yours in a scalding kiss as he picked up speed. Mercifully, before he suffocated in the air stealing a kiss, his lips moved to your neck, and then his teeth were out, marking your skin like he was trying to prove a point about his ownership over you.

He pulled away for a moment and took in your blissed out face, faltering as the vision brought him teetering to the edge of oblivion far sooner than his ego would allow, so in a mix of the desire to uphold his pride and the need for more skin to mar he pulled out of your for a fleeting moment only to flip you over then slam back home as his teeth found more skin. He was overwhelming at this angle, and your fingers curled around the pillow as he slid a hand between you to rub your clit.

Ray would often tell you that you were good for his ego, that he could walk into a room where all the men would turn their heads to look, and he could smile knowing you were his alone. But this was something different, you writhing under him, stuck between frantic begging and breathless need made him feel like a God with you as his ever willing offering.

He captured you in another kiss as the edge neared, and you shuddered as, with one more precise circle to your clit, you fell over it. His hips didn't slow, and he growled into your mouth like a hungry animal as he chased his own high. "You're mine, I own you, understand?" All you could do was nod as your vision began to grey at the edges, but he must have accepted your answer because he all but roared as he came inside you.

His strength failed as it hit him full force, and the possessive beast inside him was finally satiated, knowing he had marked inside and out. He was mindful not to crush you, but he couldn't find it in himself to move away just yet, he couldn't let his hard work slip from you just yet. His lips were once again gentle as they kissed the marks his teeth had made, and you sighed as he brushed the stray hairs from your face.

His nose found its family home on the back of your neck, and his chest expanded against your back as he inhaled. "You must be intent on trying to kill me, My Dear."

You didn't have a clue what he was talking about, and rather than ask, you kissed him in hopes he would tell you anyway, but he didn't, and the weariness in your bones forced you to speak. "What do you mean?"

He finally rolled off you, and you laid on your sides facing each other as his hand ran up and down your side. "I can't understand how someone can smell so intoxicating, it truly is torture."

You reached up to lay a hand on his cheek, and he tilted his head to press his lips to your palm. "You get like this every month, I thought you'd be used to it by now."

He shook his head, sleepy. "Never, how can someone get used to being on fire."

"I suppose that's fair." There was more you wanted to say, but it was getting hard to keep your eyes open, and he could tell. Despite his own feelings, he was getting up to clean himself up before returning with his arms loaded. He brought you a glass of water and used one of your damp face cloths to cleanse away your makeup before using another damp cloth to remove the mess from between your legs, although he did pause to watch the evidence of your shared sin drip from your body and onto the expensive sheets as another wave of possessive filled him.

With his duty done, he disposed of the unclean fabric in a pile and climbed into bed next to you, wrapping you in his arms as he pulled you to his chest. "I love you y/n."

You relaxed into his arms and dropped a kiss on his chest where his heart lay. "I love you too, Ray."

In the morning, he would awaken you with ginger tea, a heating pad, and ibuprofen before climbing back into bed with you and soothing away your aches and pains until check out finally came. Room service would find no evidence of the mess Ray had left in the aftermath of your coupling, just a pile of towels already in the dirt laundry bin when they collected the cart at the start of their shift. He did, however, get a dirty look and a snide comment from the hotelier about what kind of establishment he was running. As you checked out, Ray took it in stride.

Fin

[navybrat817]

Navy! I’m so happy that you are still willing to get on here and play with us despite how crazy busy you are/how much you have going on, based on what you’ve shared with us.💖🙌🏾💖

I’m also happy to see that you are listening to your heart and starting to write about/4 other people who interest you – like Raymond, William, Simon Riley, Konig, etc. I had no idea that you were into them too on here😍😍😍😩

Do you have any head cannons regarding the COD guys that you don’t mind sharing with the class– IF you have the time and energy to do so?

Sorry it took me so long to answer this, lovely! And I always enjoy sharing with you lovelies. As far as headcanons? Since we're not talking about specific situations or AU's, maybe some general NSFW.

Banner by the talented @cafekitsune.

Raymond Smith - Edging

Raymond is a man who knows how to get what he wants and he wants you. It's inevitable that you're at his manor and he'll christen the entire place with you, but you have to behave. He's patient, but he'll snap when pushed. Not in the way you expect.

So when you're feeling bratty, he'll tie you to the bed and fuck you nice and slow with a toy of his choosing. Or he'll pin you underneath him and thrust in deep strokes. But every time you're about to come, he'll stop. Oh, he knows it hurts. Can feel your sloppy cunt trying to suck him back in. You need that release so badly, but he wants you to earn it.

"Stop being a fucking brat, darling, and I'll give you what you want."

William Miller - Overstimulation

For the man who keeps count of everything, William knows how many orgasms he's given you. That isn't an exaggeration. He can tell you down to the day how many times you've come for him and will even differentiate if it was with his tongue, fingers, or cock.

You've lost count today, of course, practically dumb as your slick pussy tightens around him again. You moan something that sounds like his name when he rubs your swollen clit and groans as you soak his cock again. Is it a plea when you whine? A prayer? Music to his ears either way. And he's not stopping.

"You can give me one more, baby. We're not in double digits yet. Give. Me. One. More."

Simon "Ghost" Riley - Mirror Sex

Ghost can easily hide under a mask, but he doesn't like it when you hide from him. When there's a chance that he may not it back home to you, he wants to remember every expression, every twitch, every smile. He wants to commit it to memory.

So when you try to look away and hide your face when he fucks you in front of a mirror, he brings a hand around your throat stops you. He wants you to watch as his thick cock glides in and out of you. A wanton moan escapes when you see how wet it is. Can hear it when he thrusts deep. But the sight of his eyes watching you is what makes you gush around him with a cry.

"Beautiful when you break for me, love. Let me see you shatter."

Since he loves to watch you, maybe you can convince him to record you.

König - Cockwarming

König has mastered the art of patience, thanks in large to being a sniper. Training and missions instilled a lot of discipline in him. He will wait as long as he has to in order to complete his objective.

So when you're stretched around his large cock, your walls fluttering and your arousal seeping around him, don't expect him to move. He'll observe you, take in the sounds of your labored breaths as you try not to move your hips. He sees the pulse frantically beating in your beck. He hears the whine you let out when his fingers brush your nipples before making his way down to your clit, he knows how badly you need him to fill you up. And he will. When he's ready.

"Patience, mein Schatz. You'll know when I'm ready."

Love and thanks! ❤️

[hoteldreamss]

Raymond Smith || imagine

Метки: ангст; упоминание убийства; влюблённость.

Слов: 809

* National Crime Agency - Национальное агентство по борьбе с преступностью

Он должен быть спокойным, когда смотрит на собственный телефон. Но одно имя и чёртова фотография уже сбивает его с ног. В голове крутится много всего. Может быть ему вовсе не следует брать трубку. Почему он до сих пор не заблокировал тебя, почему он до сих пор держит в телефоне несколько ваших фотографий, твоих фотографий, будто ты единственная любовь в его жизни. Потому что так и есть.

Ты его бывшая жена. Ты женщина, на которой он женился не просто так, его социальный статус помог ему не только нарушать закон, но и выбрать в жёны девушку, которую он любит, а не которую одобрила его семья. Хотя они были простыми людьми, и уж точно не стали бы смотреть на то, кто ты в иерархической структуре капитализма. Для них ты была владелицей картинных галерей, и так же, как Смит выросла в обычной семье.

Вздохнув поглубже, Рэй всё же берёт трубку. Немного он ожидает услышать, что ты будешь пьяной, даже если никогда раньше не звонила ему в таком состоянии, и если тебе вообще не свойственно такое поведение.

— Да.

— Привет, Рэймонд. — Твой голос немного, будто бы запуганный, и Смит очень надеется, что никто сейчас не направляет на тебя оружие. Он никогда не хотел втягивать тебя в свою работу. Но твоя работа была хуже, чем у него.

— Привет, Т/И.

Недолгое молчание заставляет Рэймонда на мгновение подумать, что связь прекратилась. Но услышав твой вздох на другой стороне, он знает, что ты ещё здесь.

— Мне нужна твоя помощь.

Рэймонд меньше всего ожидал услышать от тебя, что ты нуждаешься в его помощи. Но внутри него появляется что-то странное, похожее на самодовольство и надежду.

— Я... должна одному человеку. Нужно выплатить долг как можно скорее, либо завтра он отрежет мне пальцы, а может похитить меня для чёрного рынка, — произносишь ты, так будто эти знания не заставляют тебя трястись от страха.

Рэймонд протирает глаза под очками, задумываясь над твоими словами. Он просит имя, и ты его называешь. Ты была уверена, Рэй просто даст тебе в долг деньги, но он решает всё сделать иначе.

***

Рэй не может поверить в то, что видит. Видеоролик на ноутбуке доказывает много вещей о тебе. Смит надеялся, что ты не продолжишь это делать, но ты вернулась к старому через несколько лет затмишься. Как вообще получилось, что тебя поймали на видео.

— Отправлю это завтра в ФБР. — Мужчина явно не из Англии, хотя об этом можно было бы догадаться по его костюму. Но Рэймонд уже знает достаточно об этом человеке.

— В Англии нет ФБР. У нас НПА*.

— Плевать. Твоя девчонка засветилась на камеру. Конечно, тюрьма для неё не лучший вариант. Но, молчание дорого стоит.

Рэймонд задумывается. Он знает, что вы больше не так близки как раньше, это нормально. Но его смущает другое.

— Значит, либо деньги, либо сольёшь это копам?

— В точку, здоровяк.

— Хорошо.

***

Рэймонд не уверен, что ты живёшь здесь. Но по его данным, ты должна быть именно здесь.

Дверь распахивается перед ним и перед ним стоишь ты. Он так давно не видел тебя. Он замечает твои изменения, это нормально, что они произошли за столько лет, пока вы не виделись. Но внешне кажется ты не изменилась.

Смит берёт себя в руки. Он не должен поддаваться сейчас чувствам.

— Тебе следует меньше врать, если ты хочешь иметь друзей.

Он протягивает тебе флешку.

Взяв её, ты понимаешь, что Рэй узнал правду. Отойдя в сторону, ты безмолвно приглашаешь его, и Рэймонд заходит.

— Я не хотела тебе врать. Просто... ты всегда был против моей работы.

— Потому что тебе грозила бы тюрьма.

— Я не знала, что там были камеры. Их не было, когда я всё проверяла.

— Да, они новые, в хорошем качестве, чтобы увидеть даже лицо бедолаги, которому ты вскрыла горло.

— Брось... за убийство бедолаг не платят.

Рэймонд набирает больше воздуха в лёгкие, поправляясь очки. Почему ты до сих пор такая?

— Я отдам тебе всё. Просто мне нужно немного времени.

— Не нужно. — Рэймонд подходит к тебе. — Твой друг больше тебя не побеспокоит, и ты ничего не должна. Я предпочёл бы, чтобы ты перестала зарабатывать на жизнь убийствами, но этого не произойдёт. Этого ведь не произойдёт?

Ты отрицательно качаешь головой, смотря в знакомые глаза, по которым ужасно скучала. Ты чувствуешь себя слишком паршиво, чтобы выдавить что-то из себя, заставившее Рэя остаться, или подумать о тебе лучше, чем он уже может думать. Рэймонд не должен был прикрывать тебя, но он это сделал. И несмотря на то, что завтра тебя не объявят в международный розыск, ты не чувствуешь себя лучше.

— Спасибо, за то, что сделал для меня всё это.

Рэй кивает, прекрасно зная, что ты чувствуешь. Он знает тебя, поэтому так легко понять, что в твоей славной головке.

— До встречи, Т/И, — произносит Смит.

— Пока.

Он знает, что вытащит тебя из любой передряги, стоит тебе только там оказаться. И самое паршивой, что он злится на себя за такую глупую влюблённость в девушку, которую никак не может усмирить, которая никогда не станет его милой домохозяйкой женой.

Это больше всего разрывает его грудь. Скорбь по временам, которых никогда не было.

[justreblogginfics]

This man and these characters are just 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 I believe what I meant to say was dreamy 😅

I just absolutely love how @carni-val writes each of these characters, they are all so amazingly and beautifully written! I simply cannot pick one to praise because they are all worth praising!✨

Charlie Hunnam Characters Masterlist

Raymond Smith

Will “Ironhead” Miller

Henri “Papillon” Charrière

Jax Teller

Arthur Pendragon

[holylulusworld]

Good girls punch hard (1) - Kinktober 7

Summary: You. A baseball bat. An admirer.

Pairing: Raymond Smith x fem!Reader

Warnings: light violence, lust at first sight, stalking vibes, mentions of drugs/weed

Kink: Lust at first sight

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

Raymond had better plans. A cup of tea, a good smoke. Maybe he’d indulge and have a glass of his favorite wine.

Instead of enjoying the fruits of his labor, he’s walking along a filthy hallway. Raymond scrunches up his nose, asking himself why he must play babysitter for a junkie.

Push Pete and Bunny follow him hot on his heels. They were prepared to use force if they must. They are silent on their way toward the apartment.

“We go in, get the girl, and get back out,” Raymond makes sure the men know he’s not up to violence. This should be an easy job – junkies and a princess in need—a classic.

“Open the fucking door or I’ll tear it down!” The men stop in their tracks watching you yell at the closed door. One of the bastards dared to slam it in your face. “I know Jasmine is in there. Send her out, and I won’t smash your skull!”

“Boss?” Bunny asks. “What do you want us to do?”

Raymond dips his head. It’s been a while since he found something amusing. He smirks when you swing your pink bat, hitting the door with full force.

“Wait. Let her have her fun. We’ve got some time,” Raymond smirks as you kick the door. The man gasps as they hear a cracking sound. You kick it again, and the door flies open. “Whoa, she’s stronger than she looks like.”

 “Lady! What the fuck!” One of the junkies jumps up to block your path, but you use your bat to shove him out of your way. “That’s my home!”

“That’s a rat-infested and stinking shithole!” You snarl in his direction before turning your attention toward Jasmine. One of the other guys tried to push a needle in her arm, but you grabbed his wrist just in time. You twist it until he screams in pain.

“Aunt Y/N,” Jasmine mutters. “I only tried to have fun and get a little high. You partied too. For once, I wanted to be cool.”

“If you want to get a kick, do it like everyone did. Smoke a big fat joint helping you relax and make you feel good. No one shoots that kind of shit into their veins to try. You’ll get addicted and end up like those assholes.”

“It wouldn’t have gotten addicted,” she whines. “Why do adults always have to ruin all the fun for me?”

You grit your teeth. Jasmine isn’t the smartest, but she was a good girl before she met the losers shooting dirt into their veins.

“Do you want to waste your life, youth, and brain to get addicted to stuff making you go crazy, or offer your ass to the next best guy for the next shot?”

That makes her flinch. Her eyes flick toward the guys promising her a good time.

“She wanted to be a big girl and get dick, mommy!” One of the junkies’ snickers. “Good girls don’t get dick.”

You swing the bat, almost hitting his head. “I was a good girl too, asshat. I got the best dicks in town because smart and eloquent guys know a good girl’s worth. She doesn’t need a limp dick to ruin her first time.” You snap at the guy, making Raymond and the others chuckle.

You twirl around, to face the men entering the dingy apartment, instinctively shoving Jasmine, behind your back to protect her. The leader furrows his brows. He looks at your niece behind your back and then at you.

“Whatever business you’ve got to do with these crackheads, it’s your turn. I’m done here. I haven’t seen you, and you haven’t seen me.” You look the leader straight in the eyes, not showing any sign of weakness.

“Does she have anything to do with these,” the leader scrunches up his nose as he looks at the boys, “people?”

“No,” Jasmine blurs out. “They wanted to show me a good time, and make sure I’ll be cool soon but…I didn’t mean to…”

“Got it,” he says and nods toward you. “What’s your name?”

You size the man up while tightening the hold on your baseball bat. “I told you; I’m done here. It’s your show now. We shouldn’t exchange pleasantries, Sir.”

“Sir, huh?” One of the boys laughs as you shove Jasmine toward the door. “I bet she’s a good little bitch if you give her the good shit.”

Raymond backhands the boy. He gets a wet wipe out to clean his hand before turning his attention toward the girl they came for.

It doesn’t take Raymond long to convince the missing princess to agree on following them out of the shithole.

“So, now that the princess is gone I got one more question for you,” he points his index finger at one of them. “What’s the aunt’s name?”

They glance at Bunny, a fridge of a man standing behind Raymond.

“Do I stutter?” Raymond gets a little louder. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and huffs.

“No, but we know Jasmine’s name, and I took a picture of her hot aunt,” Raymond snatches the phone out of the grinning boy’s hand. He narrows his eyes because it’s a picture of your ass and legs.

Raymond pockets the phone and turns around to leave the dingy apartment. After being here, he’ll disinfect his whole body and burn his clothes.

“He’s not so useless after all,” Raymond talks to himself as he looks at the picture of you on his laptop. Your car is in the picture too. He can see the license plate.

Raymond leans back in his expensive armchair, debating whether to find out more about the woman swinging the bat or not…

“I thought we agreed on forgetting that we met.” You glare at the man standing in front of your door. “Did you not listen?”

“We didn’t agree on anything,” Raymond replies with a smirk. “I let you and your niece go because you didn’t have anything to do with these creatures.” He steps closer, stopping you from closing the door with his foot.

“What do you want here?” You glance at the baseball bat standing next to the door. “How did you find me?”

“I have my ways,” he casually replies. “I thought we could go for tea. I know a nice tea house not far away.”

You blink a few times. “Buddy, did you hit your head?” You question. “We met at a junkie shithole, and you come here to ask me out?”

Raymond adjusts his glasses. He looks at you, waiting for an answer. “Which sort do you prefer?”

“Sort?” You furrow your brows.

“Tea.”

“I don’t even know your name. Why would I agree to go anywhere with you?”

“Name’s Raymond,” he holds out his hand. “If you come with me, I don’t have to follow you around town.”

You sigh. “You’re another love-sick puppy, huh? Is it the baseball bat?” You dip your head to look him up and down. “Fine, if you pay for my tea, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Tags in reblog.