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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

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if you did a sequel to the ray merrimen fic it would change my life in unknowable ways

Lemme know which unknowable ways this changes it in k thanks bud

A continuation of this prompt

Warnings: Angst, fluff, oral sex, grinding, piv, unprotected sex

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only

The sex was bad. The guy was nice, but the sex was bad.

Hell, you hadn't even planned on fucking him, but you'd liked him enough—and the nagging specter of Ray's taunt had been ringing in your head since before you'd even left the house: Back to his place for some weak missionary?

So you go home with the guy. You have the hopes of a hot, passionate fuck. But what you get is ten minutes of going down on him, him desperately cramming it in, three pumps, and then his rolling off and a mutter of, "Fuck, that was hot."

You wash your mouth out as you wait for the uber. As your phone flashes a driver's confirmation, you hesitate, then edit your ride details.

There's no I told you so as he opens the door. There's no smile or knowing smirk. For a heart-stopping moment, you don't think he'll let you in.

And then Ray steps back and gives a slight nod inside. You have to squeeze past him. Once you're in, you glance around curiously. You haven't seen Ray's latest place. It's nicer than the last—roomier, with better furnishings. You don't know how he got approved for it, with his record; you don't know where he got the money. You're not going to ask.

"Kevin tell you where I live?" He asks.

"Uh-huh. Back when you moved in," You nod. Ray grunts, brushing around you and heading for the kitchen. You follow, shoving your hands in your pockets. You're starting to feel a little silly for coming. Maybe you can just have a drink and go. Yes. Yes, you can do that. You're an adult, you know your limits, you have the ability to say no and mean it.

Ray turns back to you, holding out a plastic cup with a fifth. Glancing at the counter, you spot the half-open bottle of Hennessy. You take the cup from him, and the two of you lightly knock the plastic cups together before draining them. You fight off a shudder at the burn of the alcohol as it slides down your throat and simmers in your stomach. Ray holds his hand out, offers, "Another one?"

You nod, passing the cup over. You watch him turn before you scooch closer. You push yourself onto a clear part of the counter, swinging your feet back and forth. You fight off a smile as Ray shoots you a look out of the corner of his eye.

"I hate it when you do that," He grumbles.

"I know." You give him a bright smile as he passes your cup over again. You don't wait for the silent cheers; you just swig it back and hold it out again. Ray's brows raise, but he takes it obligingly.

"One more and then I'm gonna start charging you," He warns.

You huff softly, nodding.

"Yeah, sure."

Ray pours you another, but sets it down beside you, rather than putting it directly into your hand. You think it might be a nudge to slow, so you let it sit. Neither if you speak for a few long, harrowing moments. Then he hedges,

“So?”

You let it hang in the air before you questioningly repeat: “So?”

His face is carefully neutral in that way that always drove you nuts. That was one of the things that had driven you from him in the first place. He was an expert at shielding himself, and hiding what he was thinking, what he was feeling, until it absolutely suited him.

You roll your eyes, the first to break your little stand-off.

“I didn’t have the unlimited riblets,” You say.

“No?”

“Or a long island iced tea. That shit’s for idiots that don’t have taste. Or sense.”

He huffs a laugh through his nose, his lips threatening to pull into that damnable little smile that you love so much, and have seen so rarely.

“What’d he get?” Ray plies.

“I can’t remember. Some chicken something.”

“No,” He shakes his head, eyes boring into yours. “What did he get?”

You draw your lip between your teeth, averting your eyes and swinging your feet back and forth again. Ray lets out a knowing, interested hum, and you roll your eyes, unable to hide your irritation.

“You don’t know everything, Merrimen.”

“I know you’re here with me and not somewhere with him.”

His rebuttal is spoken calmly, matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone he’d used to argue with you that afternoon, and it’s just as annoying now as it was then. Just once, you’d like the guy to be a little easier to rattle, a little quicker to show or tell you what the fuck he’s thinking. But Ray’s always been a strategist in the way that you’ve always acted on instinct and impulse. You used to gush about your feelings for Ray—to him, and to others. You used to be vocal about your wants and needs. But as the relationship had carried on, and as your passions had cooled and your interests shifted, you’d gotten as quiet on him as he’d always been with you.

It had been a death knell for your relationship. You hadn’t asked for what you wanted or needed, which led to you feeling distant, and unloved. Ray hadn’t given you any indication that anything had changed for him—and hell, maybe it hadn’t.

Ray had spoken calmly then, and sat still as stone, damn-near unblinking as you’d crumpled in on yourself, fighting to hide your upset from him and prison guards as you tried to explain that you needed more from a man that you were sure would never give it to you.

“Yeah, well,” is your smart, flat response now.

Ray arches his brows before he raises his cup to his lips. Your gaze drops to his hands. It’s not fair that the man’s mitts are so damn big that a plastic cup seems like a child’s sippy cup when he’s holding it.

“So?” He presses. You don’t answer. You’re not sure what you can say—the missionary was weaker than weak—Can you go whack the guy upside the head for me—Any interest in some medium-strengthen missionary—

“If you’re not gonna talk, you can finish that and go,” He tacks on, impatient with your silence. Your gut whirls with indignation and you push yourself off of the counter.

“Fine,” You say, taking hold of the cup and raising it to your lips. You drain it and slam it down on the counter (it’s not really the statement moment you want it to be—the plastic and formica just makes a light, hollow tonk of a knocking noise) before striding out of the kitchen, heading for the door. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Drinksss,” Ray corrects behind you. You make it all the way to the door before you hear the thudding of his feet behind you. Then his hand is raising into your field of vision, shoving the door shut just as you’ve gotten it a couple of inches open. You go still. Ray is pressed flush against your back. His hand is still holding the door shut. You’re almost certain that if you twist the doorknob and give the door another yank, he’ll let you leave.

You make no such move.

Ray finally lowers his hand from the door, smoothing it down to your hip.

“So?” He murmurs.

You should probably be a little alarmed at how easy it feels, falling back into Ray’s bed. His body curls and covers yours like a cocoon, as if he’s determined to envelop you and make you over.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders in turn, keeping him close as his mouth worries at yours. He nips your lip, leans back just a touch, then dives back in, biting down on your lip and giving it a rough tug. You groan and sink your nails into the slopes of his shoulders. He hisses between his teeth, drawing away again. He grips your jaw, steadying your head and forcing your gaze to his. He’s quiet for a few moments, eyes searching your face.

“How bad was he?” He murmurs. Your face heats with it. You desperately want to sink back into the mattress, and for it to swallow you.

“Ray—”

“I want details.”

“Then you should’ve asked for them before.”

“I’m asking now. I want an answer.”

“We all want different things. Hell, I want you to fuck me, but it doesn’t look like I’m gonna get that, and you’re not gonna get your answers.”

He gives you that little smile again, the one that makes your heart flutter, and your cunt tingle. You smooth your hands sweetly over the crescent-shaped dents that your nails had bit into his shoulder.

“Tell me how bad he was and I’ll fuck you,” Ray insists.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“What are we, five?”

“Pinky swear or nothing, mister.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing himself back just enough to hold his pinky out. You grin at his indulgence, hooking your pinky around his and giving it a squeeze.

“It was fucking awful,” You insist.

“How fucking awful?”

“He nearly jammed it in my ass by accident.”

Ray nods slightly, waiting for you to go on—so you do:

“He couldn’t find my clit, either. Barely touched my tits.”

“Did he make you cum?”

“He made me come here. Does that count?”

Another little smile before he pushes your thighs wide and kneels up on the bed, towering over you.

“Take off your clothes,” He orders.

“You’re not going to help?”

“Why do you need my help? You’re a big girl. You can do it.”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

“You know, if I wanted to do everything myself, I would’ve just gone back to my place. I have a perfectly good batch of vibrators at home.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Oh, I’ve upgraded since you left.”

Ray’s expression flickers, and your stomach swooops with panic. It’s the wrong thing to say. What you and Ray had done wasn’t a leaving, it was…an unraveling. Of course, you’d been on the skids before his latest stint of being in prison, but things had only grown worse when you’d found out how long he was supposed to be incarcerated.

“...Still want me to undress?” You hedge.

“You’d be done by now if you shut your mouth for five minutes.”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back to kneel up on the bed with him. You draw your shirt up over your torso, flinging it over the side of the bed. Ray does the same, and your eyes lower to his torso, skimming over the tattoos decorating his torso, and the taut, thick muscle that he works tirelessly to maintain.

The two of you shift on the bed, removing your pants and underwear as well. Your panties and jeans, and his sweatpants, go the way of your shirts, scattered to the floor. Then Ray hooks his arm around your middle, drawing you up against his broad chest. You shiver as your breasts brush against him.

“Did he get you wet?” He murmurs.

“Are you kidding?”

He huffs a soft chuckle, shaking his head just a little bit. He dips his head, nosing along your jaw. You curl your arms around his shoulders again, pressing warm, reverent kisses to his shoulder and neck. Your body is thrumming low with want, your cunt beginning to throb. Ray’s hands smooth down your back, then smooth over your ass. You can feel him peering over your shoulder, down at where he grips you. He gives it a little squeeze, then a wiggle, then slaps one of the cheeks lightly. You loose a stunned squeak, squirming.

“What was that for?” You mumble, “Making sure it’s still attached?”

“One of us had to check. He didn’t.”

You roll your eyes, leaning away. You slide your hands up too his pecs. You give them a squeeze, then a slap, and a wiggle. He huffs, hauling you closer by where he still grips you.

“Alright, smartass.”

You grin sweetly up at him before you slide one of your hands down. You smooth your fingers over his abdomen, fingers swirling over the word Peckerwood emblazoned over his hips, then slide your hand even further down. You trail your finger over his swelling cock, tongue swiping along your lower lip. He doesn’t urge you, and you don't need him to. This is one dick you actually want to suck. You feel him smooth your hand over your head, down to your nape as you take him in hand. You curl your fingers around his shaft and lower your lips, pillowing them along the head of his cock. You sigh softly, tongue flickering out to swipe it. You part your lips, drawing him in. You open your mouth a touch, sweeping your tongue along his glans and moaning softly.

The sound isn’t for show. God, you missed his dick.

Look, you missed him, too, but you’re not going to pretend for one minute that he doesn’t have a nice cock.

You begin to bob your head in slow rhythm, working him over with steady care. You draw your head back, peering up at him from beneath your lashes. He watches you in turn, jaw tight. You stroke his shaft with the same steady speed that you use with your mouth, humming softly around him. You draw off with a pop, stroking your hand over his length as you brush kisses along his tattoo.

Ray’s hand curls around your jaw, tugging you up toward him. You wobble a little as you do, eyelids fluttering as he sweeps his tongue between your lips. Your mouth falls open to him, shivering as he draws you up against his thigh. You straddle against it, hips shoving on instinct. Ray hums, tensing his thigh as your hips roll more steadily. The slide of your body against his is made all the more tempting and maddening by your breasts brushing his hard muscle.

“You’re wound real tight, aren’t you,” He murmurs.

“Oh…shut up,” You mumble, pressing your face into his neck, intent on hiding from him.

“Go on,” He breaths against your temple, “That's it…Desperate little thing, fucking yourself on my thigh.”

“Shut up, Ray.”

“Say whatever the fuck I want, baby. You don’t like it, you can go home to your vibrators.”

You know Ray, and that’s not a tease—it’s a warning. So you go quiet, and shiver, and grind even harder against his thigh. You draw in a gasp, whimpering as you grow closer and closer.

“Almost there?” He murmurs. You know better than the lie to him, so you nod hurriedly. He gives your shoulder a shove, sending you tumbling back against the mattress. You bounce a touch against it, drawing in a nervous breath as he crawls over you again.

“Condom?” You ask as he pushes your thighs wide.

“What for?” He arches a brow. “He use one?”

“Yes.” “Then why should I?”

You suck in a gasp, then splutter a groan as Ray shoves himself into you. The sensation ripples up your body, fingers grasping and flexing around his forearms as you adjust.

“Thought you said you fucked him,” Ray murmurs, feeling how tight you are, and the way your cunt flutters around him.

“I d-did.”

“So?”

“You’re fucking big, Ray, fuck, what do you want me to say?”

“That about covers it.”

“Fuck you, Merrimen.”

He doesn’t tease you further—he doesn’t loose a, working on it. You don’t have the chance to adjust fully to the feeling of him before he’s planting his hands on either side of your hips and pushing his hips into you harshly. He just fucks into you with an almost vengeful pace. Pitiful gasps and whines fall from your lips as he hammers into you. You think it’ll be enough to push you over the edge, and quickly. You’re so hot and so wet and so goddamn wound up.

“This how he did it?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Pretty close,” You mumble. And it’s true, but you’re fine with it.

But Ray curls over you. He hunkers his body over yours, arms propping up your shoulders as his hands tenderly cradle your skull. His thrusts slow, and his hips flush against yours as he grinds into you deeply. It’s different than you’ve known him before. It makes your heart stutter, and your stomach flip. Your lids flutter a touch as he dips his head toward you, just as he did in your bedroom. His lips are tantalizingly within reach. You could almost cry with how good it feels, having Ray pressed flush against you. He’s reaching a spot inside that few other men have been able to find, let alone hit over, and over, and over again.

“I told you,” Ray murmurs, lips brushing yours. “He can’t give it to you like I can.”

Tag list: @massivecolorspygiant @brandyllyn so y'all can hopefully lose your minds with me 😘

#Ray Merrimen x Reader #Ray Merrimen x You #Ray Merrimen/Reader #Ray Merrimen/You #Ray Merrimen fic #Ray Merrimen imagine #asks #replies

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nocturnal-milk-dud · 7 months

Text

A Brighter Future for Us All

Pairing: Ray Merrimen x Reader

Warnings/notes: violence; language; blood; gun violence; strangulation; I don't know why I put both nemesis and mr. X in this, and basically ignored nemesis's programming but here we are; part 2 to Our Business Is Life Itself; for a fun game take a shot every time you read the word monster or creature I'M DOING MY BEST

Rating: R

Word count: 1229; @massivecolorspygiant look what you made me do

Ray shoves you ahead of him.

"Run," he orders, and you panic when you realize he means to stay behind. You turn back to him, shaking your head, ready to tell him not to be stupid, when you see a grenade in his hand and the figure coming up fast behind him.

"Fuck!" You run, racing up into the darkness of the ramp and the startling cold of the rain, praying something doesn't grab you from the shadows. The explosion shakes the garage and you stumble forward but manage to keep upright. You don't stop running until you've hit the desolate street, your heart slamming against your eardrums and your breathing erratic. Broken storefronts, abandoned cars, fires that won't burn out are the only things to greet you--the only things left.

The entrance to the garage is thick with dust and a darkness even the cop car's headlights can't penetrate. The silence is oppressive and your stomach sits heavy like a stone. The idea that you might be on your own in a city of death fills you with dread.

Ray's name sits tightly between your lips as you slowly start back toward the garage. The shadows are playing tricks on you, taking the shape of the hulking creature the way the clothes in a dark closet take the shape of a person. It has to be the shadows. A hand reaches out of the black and you freeze. There's a dragging sound and your breath escapes you in a deep sigh of relief as you watch Ray haul himself to his feet. His eyes find you and you start to go to him, but something about his gaze stops you. He's looking past you, his jaw tight and his eyes narrow. Ray straightens up quickly, though it clearly causes him a great deal of pain, and pulls his handgun. You turn just as something sinuous and muscular wraps around your neck, taking away your oxygen and replacing it with panic. You're lifted off your feet and brought face to face with a deformed, leathery-skinned creature with more teeth than face.

"S.T.A.R.S." the creature growls. A shot is fired, hitting the monster in the head, about as effective as hitting it with a rock. It snarls at Ray.

"We're not fucking S.T.A.R.S.," Ray barks. You clutch uselessly at the tentacle, but the creature has lost interest in you, and tosses you aside, your body crashing hard into the concrete wall. Its footsteps shake the ground as you drag yourself toward the street, slowly getting to hands and knees, finally your feet. The creature is stalking toward Ray and you wonder how many lives the man has left. You pull the gun from your belt and try not to notice how heavy it is or how your hands tremble as you point it at the creature's back.

"Hey asshole!" you shout. "We're not done!"

The monster turns its grotesque face back to you and growls, but it takes the bait, starting towards you. You fire off two shots that appear to do absolutely nothing, but you hope they keep its attention on you. You run out into the darkness of the street and duck behind a car, and listen. The stomping has stopped, it's quiet except for the rain thumping on car roofs, and you worry the creature's gone back for Ray. But the air shifts, and you think you see a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye. The impact is sudden and terrible, the creature having launched itself into the air in a massive leap that lands it about ten feet from you, causing the ground to quake and the car windows to shatter. Shards of glass shower over you, and you shield your face, balling up as tightly as you can. The creature has its back to you, and your hands shake as you use them to help guide you to the other side of the car, biting back a cry when your skin finds a piece of glass.

Ray is already there and a relieved smile quickly crosses your face. He holds a finger up to his lips, reminding you of your trouble–as if you could forget--and points over your shoulder, to your right. You look carefully, seeing nothing but abandoned vehicles at first, but across the street is Kendo's Gun Shop, and next to that is a gated alleyway. It seems an impossibly long way.

You take a deep breath and nod once.

The two of you skirt around the cars and debris keeping low and keeping quiet, your eyes pinned to the hulking, snarling figure, feeling sure that any moment now it will turn and stare right back at you.

Ray pauses behind the shell of a tank, his arm across his stomach, his breathing labored. You kneel next to him and eye the gate--it's so close now--just a few steps away.

"Come on," you whisper, guiding Ray's arm across your shoulders. "We'll make a run for it." His lips turn up in a small smile--the same one he gave you when you met--but there's no joy in it.

Your heart is pounding as the two of you move out into the open, and you know you should be focusing on the gate, on the next step, but you can feel the creature at your back. You glance back over for a glimpse--just a glimpse because you have to know--and everything in you turns to ice when all you see is an empty street. You stop moving, feet rooted to the spot, heart wedged in your throat.

"Keep going," Ray whispers.

"It's gone," you hiss, your voice thick with panic, "where the hell did it go?"

"Go!" Ray shouts this time and you're shoved forward, shoved to the ground, and you see Ray duck a blow from the figure in black.

The fucking figure in black.

You scramble to your feet and crash through the gate, turning back for Ray.

"Come on!" you shout desperately. Ray's moving slowly, face tight with pain, each step becoming more of a lurch, a stumble. The stone-faced monster just takes its time, looking like a massive wave that's about to come crashing down on Ray. As soon as he's within reach, you grab Ray by the vest and haul him toward you with all your might, narrowly missing the monster's next swing yourself. There's a crunch and viscous dark blood splatters across you and the pavement. The creature looks down to see the large tentacle-like thing protruding from its chest, examining it curiously. You and Ray watch as it's brought off the ground and tossed away like it weighs nothing. Coming to your senses, you slam the gate closed in the face of the renewed threat. The monster with its stitched-together face and elongated teeth leans down so its eyes are level with yours, nothing but the steel mesh of the gate separating it from you. Its acrid, rotting breath falls on your face and its eyes narrow. The creature bellows, the force of the sound knocking you back and down to your knees, your hands coming up to cover your ears. The roar makes you feel like your head is going to explode. Ray grips you under your arms and hauls you to your feet, pulling you into the alley, away from the creature at the gate.

#spooky season #resident evil fic #ray merrimen x reader #ray merrimen #den of thieves #re3 remake #re2 remake

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tropes-and-tales · 6 months

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A Bit of Color (Redux)

Day 7: Virginity (Ray Merrimen x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Light angst (implied attempted SA, but nothing graphic); loss of virginity; smut (Fingering, PiV, protected); 18+ only.

Word Count: 4448

AN: This is a sequel to this, and it was requested for Kinktober by @chemicalalice)

After the debacle of the Christmas gifts, and after Ray apologizes, he tries to do better. After learning about your similar childhoods—growing up in difficult military families—he finally feels a kinship to you. It’s a commonality he never had before. You with all your color and light, you baked goods for the crew, your care for them. Ray’s never known anyone so much his opposite, yet that common facet of childhood give him an in to understand you.

He tries to do better by you. He tries to not be such a dick all the time, tries to remember his home training and thank you when you do something nice for them. He tries to tell you when you do a good job; he tries to offer one of his small smiles when you make a joke.

He doesn’t tell you: when LA has an unseasonable cold snap, he uses the quilt you made him for Christmas. He doesn’t tell you that when his insomnia plagues him that night, he runs his fingers over the small, neat stitches of your handiwork, over the small blocks of soft cotton you cut and sewed together.

He doesn’t tell you that months after you gifted it to him, months after he hurt your feelings and then clumsily apologized…months after all of that, he finally realizes how much time and energy you put into this quilt. For him.

It doesn’t make him cry or anything like that. Ray has no outsized flood of emotion at the realization. It simply knocks something loose in his chest, scores a microscopic crack in the flinty wall around his heart.

-----

Your secret reveals itself after a heist. You hacked the security system of a club, the guys robbed it, and now there’s a celebration out at Bosco’s house. It’s low-key, just a laid-back thing. There’s plenty of beer in the backyard strung up with lights against the Los Angeles dusk, music playing on the speakers.

Everyone is loose, relaxed. The guys start to reminisce about their glory days in high school, and by the time there are through their first case of beer, they shift to reminiscing about their high school conquests, their first times.

Ray sits back and listens; he barely participates beyond the occasional grunt of acknowledgement or chuckle when someone makes a joke. He thinks back to high school, his football days. Holly had been a cheerleader, and they’d been each other’s first—and Ray slips back into those memories. The chatter and laughter around him fades, and he thinks back to how young he’d been then, how his future seemed to stretch out in front of him—

He's yanked out of his memories by Lavoux’s bark of laughter, then Bosco and Mack joining him.

But not you. Whatever joke Ray has missed, you’re not in on it. Which makes sense—you didn’t go to high school with them, so you’ve been quiet for most of the night. But when Ray sits up and looks at you closer, you’re slouched in your seat. You look…discomfited.

It takes a long moment for Ray to catch up, but he does. Amongst the memories of the guys’ respective first times, they asked you for yours—and when you told them you don’t have a “first time” story yet, the guys reacted with incredulity.

Ray just watches at first, his eyes bouncing between the guys and then you, their questions, and your squirming discomfort as you give sheepish answers. The guys don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Ray guesses, but you clearly are.

“Are you religious or something?”

“No.”

“You waiting for marriage?”

“No.”

“Are you one of those…what are they called? Asexuals?”

You shake your head at that, and it makes you stammer out an explanation: that you want to, you’ve wanted to for a long time, but it’s complicated now that you’re older, that guys aren’t kind about it—

“Do you have any experience at all?” It’s Mack who asks the question, and you drop your gaze into your lap. You give a halting explanation about some moment in college at a party when a lacrosse player tried to…well, you hedge around it, you don’t say the word of what that guy tried to do to you, but you’re clear that he failed, that he’d been unable to get it up enough to do that to you, but that the moment made you fearful, and now you’re stuck, and it seems like only Ray can hear the edge of tears in your voice, the wobble in your words like you’re about to cry.

“Leave it,” he cuts in, but when you glance up at him in surprise, Ray is looking at Mack and Bosco and Lavoux. “Leave her be.”

They do. There’s a moment of awkward silence, but then Bosco shifts the conversation to the Lakers, and within a moment, everyone seems to have forgotten it.

Not you. Ray catches you staring at him from underneath your eyelashes, and when he meets your gaze, you tip him a slight nod.

Then you mouth a grateful, “thank you.”

Ray tips you a nod back. He doesn’t acknowledge the feeling in his chest, the dull ache: another knock against that flinty wall, another hairline crack in his defenses.

-----

Months pass. If any of the guys remember that night and the revelation of your virginity, they don’t mention it to Ray. You obviously don’t mention it either.

Ray doesn’t forget it. It surfaces in his thoughts when he has a quiet moment, when he’s lying in bed during one of his bouts of insomnia. His imagination pulls together that moment in college with the lacrosse player, and it makes Ray sick to think of you: sunny, colorful you. Young but already so steeped in tragedy with the death of your father. The universe was cruel to put you in the path of a drunken rapist, so much larger than you. Even if you escaped before the worst could happen, you didn’t escape unscathed, and here you are years later, wanting to be intimate with someone but too scared to do it.

You need someone you trust, Ray thinks. Someone you feel safe with. Someone who will keep your confidence, who won’t tease you. Someone who will take you seriously and understand how important losing your virginity must be for you.

Sometimes, when he’s lying sleepless under your quilt, he wonders if he might be that someone.

-----

More months pass. The crew is laying low since Mack got busted for a bullshit parole violation. They go semi-straight, work in the garage working on cars and trucks. They spend their evenings on their own, in a fallow season until Mack gets sprung in a few months.

You pick up work bartending, and Ray stops by a few nights a week. He sits at the corner of the bar and usually stays silent, but when it’s quiet in the bar, you’ll come and talk to him. Which with Ray mostly means you talk to him and he listens as he sips at his beer.

But the bar isn’t in the best neighborhood, and soon Ray finds himself there every night you’re scheduled. He stays until closing time, and it isn’t long before he goes from walking you to your car to just driving you home outright.

It isn’t long before you go from sliding out of his truck with a thank you and a wave to inviting him in for a beer.

When he notices that you’ve started stocking your fridge with his beer of choice, he doesn’t mention it.

If you notice that he lingers longer each night he drives you home, that he nurses that beer a little longer, you don’t mention it either.

-----

Mack’s release date keeps getting pushed back. It’s the legal system and its red tape at its finest.

You and Ray fall into a rhythm. He drives you home after your shifts at the bar. You give him beer, but you also feed him a late-night dinner. It’s never anything spectacular, usually just reheated leftovers, but he likes the cozy domesticity of it. Eating your food while he sits on your couch, you eating beside him. Nearly close enough to touch.

A long time has passed since the last heist. A long time since your reluctant admission to being a virgin, but Ray has never forgotten it. He’s mulled it over like it’s a problem to solve; like the complex blend of your past trauma and societal expectations are, say, the schematics to a bank vault.

“You need someone you trust,” he blurts out one night. You’ve been chatty all evening, telling him about some friend of a friend who got engaged. You’re a little down on yourself—the news of the engagement has sent you into a minor tailspin. You think you’re so far behind everyone that you’ll never catch up.

“Huh?”

“If you want to lose your virginity,” he clarifies, but he keeps his eyes fixed on the bottle of beer in his hand. “You need someone you trust.”

“Oh.” He feels the tension seep off you. He winces inwardly to have made you uncomfortable, but he plows forward. It’s a problem he wants to help you solve, and he doesn’t examine why he wants to help you so much.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he continues. “You just need someone you feel safe with.”

It takes you an entire month more when you finally ask him. You don’t meet his eyeline when you haltingly tell him that you trust him. That you feel safe with him.

You’re so quiet, so unlike yourself when you tell him. He can feel the fear and hesitation in you, and he can feel his own response to you trusting him enough to consider this: the hairline cracks in his stony heart growing wider, fault-lines nearly wide enough to let you slip in entirely.

*****

You keep expecting there to be a reveal, a moment where the guys jump out and make fun of you. You keep expecting this to have been an elaborate put-on by Ray and the guys, a cruel joke at your expense.

You’ve never been more wrong in your life.

Ray plans everything, which is pretty much Ray’s thing. You wonder how much difference there is between planning a heist and planning the loss of your virginity, in Ray’s eyes.

You don’t have enough experience with men to catch the way his gaze falls on you, turns soft by a degree or two. You don’t notice that he gifts you with his rare, small smiles more than ever. You don’t notice—how could you? —that Ray has fallen in love with you, a falling of miniscule moments, of quiet instances where you creep into his heart like groundwater finding its level.

How could you notice that? Even Ray hasn’t noticed it, and he has far more romantic experience than you.

He plans everything. He sets the date. He comes to your house, paper bag in hand, and you guess it’s condoms, but you notice that he’s put effort into himself: he’s cleaned up his facial hair. He’s put on a nicer shirt, and when he walks past you, you catch the scent of a recent shower—the slight spice of his body wash, the clean smell of his shampoo.

He brings a bottle of Moscato for you, but he’s clear—stern, in fact—that it’s just to take the edge off. It’s just to smooth out the rough spikes of your fear.

“You need to stop if you feel yourself getting tipsy,” he tells you as he pours you a glass. “You are in control tonight, so you need to be in control of yourself first.”

When your hand trembles as it grasps the wine glass, Ray’s eyes turn soft. He reaches out and lays one of his big hands over yours, steadies you.

“Everything is fine,” he tells you, low and soft like he doesn’t want to spook you. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, okay?”

-----

Ray has thought of everything.

The realization of how much thought and effort he put into this makes you flush from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Ray Merrimen, your favorite grump. The stone-faced, unsmiling behemoth who glowers from the shadows and leads the crew like some grouchy demi-god.

Who thought he could be so gentle? He takes his time. He leads you carefully, but he checks in with you at each new step. From sitting together on the couch, his palm gently laid on your bare knee as you sip at your wine. From when he eases the glass out of your hand, then carefully tilts your face towards his. From when he studies your expression before he leans in and presses a plush kiss to your mouth.

From when he builds up the kisses: from closed-mouth to open, to teasing you when he sucks against your lower lip, when he slips his tongue against yours. When he chuckles at the first low, involuntary moan you loose just from his mouth against your neck. When his hands find your breasts and palms them softly through your shirt, when his thumbs find the pebbled nipples even through your shirt and your bra, and when he breathes in your ear how much fun he's going to have drawing your pleasure from you.

When you shiver at his words, he draws away and studies your face again. There’s a question in his eyes, so you nod at him.

“I’m okay,” you say. “I’m fine.”

He studies you a beat longer, then nods back. He smooths his big hands down your arms, then reaches out and grasps your waist.

“Bedroom?” he asks.

You swallow hard, and you hope he doesn’t hear the gulp that sounds so loud in your own ears.

“Bedroom,” you agree.

-----

You know from working with Ray that the man is meticulous. He never rushes a job; he always takes his time.

He takes his time with you. His patience for your insecurities feels infinite: he strips you, he eases a thick finger into you, and he stills when you gasp, when you freeze up. When you tell him to keep going, he doesn’t—instead he kisses you, works his hot mouth against your face, your neck, your breasts. He kisses you until he feels you relax, and only then does he keep going.

He works his finger in you. He adds another, kisses you through the stretch of it as he scissors his fingers to help stretch your tight channel open. You can feel where his erection presses against your leg, and sometimes he presses himself against you hard, an involuntary reaction to whatever lust he may be feeling. But he never rushes it, and he mumbles shy words of praise in your ear, and he takes his goddamned time.

He makes you come with his fingers first, the blunt end of his finger stroking some inner part of you, his thumb circling your clit. You’ve masturbated plenty, but this feels like nothing you’ve been able to coax from yourself before: his hand works you like a finely tuned instrument, but his other hand works against your breasts, pinches lightly at your nipples, rubs the pad of his thumb over the curve and swell of you until goosebumps prickle against your skin. His mouth breathes out low-voiced orders in your ear, his breath hot against you as he commands you to come for him, to let yourself go, and you do.

It's not like anything you’ve felt before. It’s the sudden release of tension. It’s the hard snap of a rubber band pulled taut, then loosed. It’s a flood of heat and light, its epicenter right where Ray’s hand skillfully works you, and it courses outward like shockwaves that make you tremble and whimper as you give yourself over to the sensation.

“That’s it,” Ray whispers in your ear, and you feel the brush of his lips a beat later against your cheekbone. “Just like that.”

-----

Then comes the main event, and Ray slows down even more. He checks in with you, props himself on an elbow to peer down as he interrogates you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, and his stern face is softened by his low, quiet voice. “Do you want to stop now?”

You lay a hand on his shoulder and study his tattoos as you answer. “I’m sure,” you assure him. “I don’t want to stop.”

“I’m gonna need you to look me in the eye when you answer, sweetheart.”

You take a deep breath, then you do as he tells you. You feel shy, suddenly, exposed at the realization that Ray Merrimen—grouchy Ray, the leader of your crew—has essentially fingered you, wrung an orgasm out of you. Shy too that you want to keep going, that you want him to be your first.

“I’m sure,” you repeat, and you look him square in the eyes when you say it.

The corner of his mouth twitches into his version of a smile. “You’ll tell me if you want to stop, right?”

“I will.”

His small smile falls, and he hesitates before he adds, “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

You can’t know that he’s thinking about the man who hurt you all those years ago. You can’t know that Ray is uncomfortable to be so much bigger than you, so much stronger. You can’t know that Ray worries that something about this moment—him looming over you, you defenseless underneath him—will spark against your trauma and cause you anxiety.

If you knew any of this, you’d be able to reassure him: that other guy is so far from your thoughts, he may as well not even exist. Nothing about Ray’s care and attention conjures up the specter of that unhappy memory. You feel safe underneath Ray. You feel safe with him.

He takes a long moment to roll the condom onto himself, and then another long moment easing himself between your legs. He props himself on one forearm and then presses forward, the tip of his cock brushing against your slick and swollen folds. He pauses and looks down at you.

“I’ll stop if you tell me to,” he says, and for the first time, he sounds uncertain, even a little shy. It strikes you all at once that maybe he’s nervous too, so you lift your hands and cup his face, draw him down to you. You gift him a sweet kiss, then you deepen it. You tilt his head and suckle against his lower lip as he had done to you earlier, and the groan that breaks free from him is sudden and loud.

“I trust you, Ray,” you tell him.

He drags the thick length of him along your slit, coats himself in your arousal before he pushes forward, breaches your entrance with the crown of his cock. He never looks away from you, and his unflinching, unblinking stare feels almost unbearably intimate. Like he can read your thoughts, like he can see into your soul.

He pushes forward, draws back. He works himself into you, but he pauses to kiss you, to whisper in your ear how well you’re doing. It doesn’t hurt, not really—it’s just the sense of pressure, of stretching, and you can see how it might hurt with an inconsiderate lover, but Ray takes his time to let you stretch to his invading length, so there’s no pain. There’s only the overwhelming sense of being taken, claimed.

You realize he’s fully seated when you feel the press of his hips flush against yours, and he lowers more of himself onto you. You feel the hot flush of skin on yours, slick with sweat, and his hot breath pants against your neck.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. His voice sounds strained, but he lays a trail of kisses along your collarbone. He doesn’t move otherwise—doesn’t pull out, doesn’t thrust. He’s letting you get used to the feeling of him being inside you. He shifts his head and gazes down at you.

“Good,” you mumble. “I feel good.”

“Need your eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You do as he says. There’s tension in his face, and you reach up to brush your fingertips over the lines in his brow, the two deep lines between his eyebrows.

“I’m good,” you repeat.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, it’s…” You trail off, try to focus. You’d heard the term ‘cock-drunk’ before, had always scoffed at how stupid it sounds, but having him inside you, thick and hot and throbbing leaves little room for intelligent thought.

Ray dips his head and kisses you deeply, licks against the inside of your mouth. He kisses you until you’re breathless then breaks away.

“Gonna need you to use your words too,” he says, and it comes out gruff except for the smirk curving his lips.

You smile back up at him. You lay your hand on the back of his head, run your fingertips through his close-cropped hair. “It’s good. It’s better than good, Ray.”

“Ready for more?”

You nod. “Yes.”

Another long, lingering kiss and then he starts to move. He pulls out halfway, pushes back into you, and his thrusts are smooth. No jarring, no rough jolts as he reseats himself over and over. The motion renews just how big he is; the tight walls of your pussy grip him, the friction of it knocks the wind out of your lungs. You cling to his broad shoulders, and you feel the flex and tension in his muscles as he fucks you gently. But he’s big, he’s so fucking thick, and you gasp each time his hips settle against yours.

“Still okay?” he grunts out, and you whisper that you’re fine, you’re perfect, but that he’s so big, so goddamned big like he might split you in half—

“No,” he groans. “Fuck, don’t.”

You freeze underneath him, suddenly terrified you’ve said something wrong, but then he groans in your ear before he lifts his head and stares down at you, clarifies.

“You can’t…. shit, you can’t say that, sweetheart.”

“S-sorry—”

He shakes his head to interrupt, quirks his mouth into that half-smile he has. “You can’t look at me with those goddamned puppy-dog eyes and say stuff like that.”

“I’m sorry, Ray—”

“I’m already on a hair-trigger,” he grits out, and you’re too inexperienced to know the warning signs of his impending orgasm, the erratic way he’s thrusting into you, like he’s trying to hold back but his body is working independently of his will. “Fucking jacked off twice before I came here…shit, want to make it good for you…” He groans again, drops his head beside yours. “Fuck, you feel so good, I can’t—just don’t—”

But he’s passed the event horizon of his pleasure, it’s too late to stop himself, and you’re bewildered for a beat as he groans out a string of curses, as he deals you a couple of shallow, rapid thrusts…but then you feel the throb of his cock inside you, his body rigid above you before he sighs and sags against you.

“Shit,” he breathes out. “Shit, shit, shit.”

*****

Ray would be ashamed, but you don’t let the feeling take root in him. Once you realize what has happened, you soothe him. You kiss him, you stroke your hands over his arms, his shoulders. You tell him everything is fine, that you enjoyed yourself.

Only you. Sweet, sunny you. Only you could turn your disappointing first time into a loving moment for him, and after he cleans you up, he grumbles as much to you.

“But I’m not disappointed!” you protest. “Not at all!”

“You didn’t get to come.”

“I did,” you point out. “And it was amazing.”

Ray rolls his eyes. He’s trying to argue with you; he wants you to yell at him for failing you. “You know what I mean.”

“It still counts. And I’m not a virgin anymore, so…mission accomplished.”

He sighs, and he makes one last attempt at wallowing in his failure. “You want me to leave?” he asks, and he doesn’t know what scares him more: you sending him away, or you asking him to stay with you.

“No! Not at all.” You look at him with those big doe-eyes, like some anime baby animal, and it’s made worse that you have no idea the effect you have on him. “Will you stay? Please?”

And maybe getting a lousy lay under your belt gives you some courage because you hook your chin on his bare chest, cast those sad eyes on him until he’s staring back at you…then you drop a kiss on his chest.

Then you bare your teeth and nip him there, light as air, but enough for him to feel the indent of your teeth against his skin. And then your tongue on him, laying wet line along the line of his tattoos, and the whole while you bat your eyelashes at him. Ray’s cock twitches at the sensation.

You goddamn menace. Has he created a monster?

He stays. Ray gets his hands on you, manhandles you until you’re underneath him again—your squeal of surprise makes his cock twitch again—and he cages you in with his arms. There’s a split second of worry that you’ll react badly to him being a shade rougher than he has been all evening, but there’s a gleam in your eyes, and your lips are parted as you gaze up at him.

He opens his own mouth to tell you he’ll stay, that he owes you after his embarrassing premature ejaculation, that he intends to make you come on his cock more than once, but maybe he has created a monster after all.

You don’t let him get the words out—you arch up towards him, you surge up and kiss him hard. It takes far less time than usual for him to recover, and when he finally slides into you the second time, he’s able to make the first time up to you—he makes you come twice before he finally joins you on your third orgasm, and when Ray comes with you, it’s not like any orgasm he’s had before: sparks of color explode behind his eyelids, and it’s damned near percussive—enough to finally bring down the stony remains of the fortress ‘round his heart, leaving him defenseless to you.

#ray merrimen #ray merrimen x reader #ray merrimen imagine #den of thieves #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

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xsapphirescrollsx · 8 months

Text

Sunshine pt. 1

Written: Oct 03 2019

Ray Merrimen x Black Female Reader

Request for my bff @titty-teetee <3

He paid his debt to society. Ten years of solid prison time had left an impression. But it hardly suppressed his illicit nature. Ray bit off a large bite of the convenience store burrito, it was as tasteless as the shit he had in max and went down just as hard. But it was good to be back in the world. Once again back in the neighborhood, he knew so well. And finally, around the friends, he grew up with and served with.

Ray stared at his phone, swiped through long history there as he collected bits and pieces of information. Then suddenly, a blasting glimmer of light hit his down-turned lids. His eyes turned up toward you, there you were, the bright afternoon sun glinting off your dangly earrings. His girl, his Sunshine. The rays brought drama to the moment as it bathed you in white yellow crowning your head of tight curls in mahogany and sunflower yellow. It turned him on. He loved how you tried to fit in now. Clothes much more expensive than the general store rags you pilfered back in the day shaped to your body. It wrapped beautifully around you. His eyes, eager to take all of you in, travel down your thick body, the tight jeans fit snuggly around the roundness of your ass, and the width of your thighs as you walked toward the store.

Ray remembered what it meant to have you. Tears streaking down your face after a strained orgasm. The tight impulsive way you slid down his body when you wanted attention. He had missed the cues back then. Admittedly he had been a fucking fool to ignore the love you had for him back then.

But he wouldn’t let that go twice. He held onto that promise as you walked into the store. His eyes dropped down to his phone again. You stood out boldly among the others. That bright smile could bring up the room easily. His eyes traced your face and then along to a few others, he guessed that was your colleagues.

Ray clicked the screen off and then tossed into the seat next to him. For a few seconds, he caught glimpses of you perusing the shelves, your habit of touching every item your eyes landed on was still there. There were still parts of you there that he remembered fondly. The arch in your brow when you finally hit on something you wanted. The light steps, almost like you glided when you walked. Something akin to an angel quality, he thought, living in the hell of Los Angeles it was a rare find.

“Ya, I’ll be in tomorrow.“ You said with a mildly agitated tone. "It’s my day off but you’ll owe me, Becca.” You continued pointed your finger at her and made sure that the woman across the desk with the handle of the phone pressed against her ear knew you meant business.

Grabbing up your belongings you walked out of the office, your steps were quick taking you down the elevator and through the lobby without a hitch. You stepped out into the cooler evening air. Another day, another dollar. You hardly had time to pause these days and take in what it meant to have a steady job. Though grateful it wasn’t what Ray had left you in, you were more than aware that it could have been worse.

Out of the parking lot of about twenty vehicles, you walked toward yours. The thick soft plastic of your flats thump on the asphalt you pulled your phone. Keith had messaged you.

Hey love, I’m bringing dinner over. See you.

A deeply warm grin pulled at your lips. Like in your heart the soft threads of devotion began to become intertwined with his. He was a full-blown romantic. Keith was suave, his voice light though powerful it sank right into you. He was strong, dependable and offered the safety you only saw in the movies.

And most importantly, he allowed you to focus on what mattered—getting your life back on track. You cracked your car door open, still staring at your phone. So maybe your head-space was in the land of Keith’s devotion. Because the looming shadow to your right drew in closer than you would have ever permitted.

Distracted by the now absence of light, you turn to the towering figure and in the midst of identifying him, you caught his reflection. Did you see that right? The beard, you remembered the rough hair as it emerged from between your thighs.

Your eyes landed on him before his wide hand pushed your door closed.

The air picked up around you whipping his sweaty scent into your face. He smelled the same. “Ray?” you asked, though you knew who this was without doubt.

Ray as he slid between you and the driver’s side door of your car as he spoke. “Sunshine.” The sun washed over his face in evening gold, the dusting of pink lit his brown eyes to rust. It was like you remembered, those eyes and his ability to stare right through you.

The circumstances of why you broke it off came flooding back. His self serving loyalty that only meant you got something out of it if the opportunity aligned in his favor. Ten years had not been long enough for you to forget how he used you.

“What the fuck do you want? Come to pin another robbery on me?” you bit off as you stepped back folding your arms across your chest.

“’Come on, that didn’t happen. You got questioned.” he said.

“I lost my job. I lost my home—I lost everything.” You stopped talking. The man in front you was always the igniter, the reason for your burning rage. And this time was no different. You could feel the heat of anger licking at your words.

“Move, Ray.” you gritted.

“I wanted to see how my Sunshine was doing these days.”

“Stop calling me that. MOVE, RAY!” you yelled, the hurt in it cracked at the end. “You didn’t give fuck at all when you went to prison and left me with nothing!”

His eyes moved over your shaking form. He could see the pain there, the rot of how he left you in your face as it easily contorted into a rage. You had given him so much more than he gave you. Ray knew that now. Older, maybe wiser he wanted to make it up to you. Perhaps it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch that Ray Merrimen could be merciful in his brutality.

“Ten years Ray!” you shouted again, the sun glinted off the shiny red nail polish as you wiped away tears.

The anger in you, he caught the brunt of it when your dark eyes settled back on him again. Black as the guns he hoarded and just as deadly. You look at him and he felt the shot to his heart.

He knew you better than you knew yourself. Or at the very least, he knew what motivated you. Ray stepped forward, drew his shoulders and stance to his full height as he took the final step. But the wild and tender parts of your pain had you backing up from him. You couldn’t take another hit like that from him.

“Stop.” You squeaked out passed the weakening resolve. “You don’t get to make up for shit with me!”

He felt differently when he touched your face. Ray’s long rough fingers grazed your cheek as it swept to the back of your neck. Gentle. His other hand, the fingers tilted your chin up to look at him. A mighty change from ten years ago when a younger more reckless Ray would have just pushed you aside.

Ray felt the shake in your shoulders, the hitched breath in your chest as he wrapped his arms around you. Enveloping in you in the warmth he lacked all those years ago. Silently, he promised himself to make up for it. He didn’t feel complete until you finally gave in. Your hands and arms slid under his flannel and over the white tee shirt and brought him closer in.

His hands glided back up and held your face in his warm palms. He made you look at him when he spoke. Another difference you noted. The old Ray wouldn’t have cared if you listened.

“I’m sorry. I’m just asking for another chance…” said Ray, as he raked his rough knuckles under your jaw. But the reunion didn’t last long. Resentment bit back. How dare he think you could just forget.

You elbowed your way from him, pushing and then shoved him back hard though he didn’t move an inch.

“Fuck you, Ray!” you shouted once again, tears streaming down your face you walked around Ray. You got in your car, stunned and hurt you looked at him standing there still as he watched you too.

You pushed away from the memories of before. In a time when he was yours, and maybe you belonged to him too. But that was the past. And he couldn’t make up for that now.

What a wonderful life you seemed to have made for yourself.

Ray strode through your living room. His eyes moved from the quality of the curtains, the furniture, the double glasses on the sleek coffee table and then finally to a photo on the wall. You were in it, a man half his size hugged you from behind. The smile on your face didn’t match the vacant expression in your eyes. Ray knew that look too.

At first, he just wanted to get a feel of you again. Maybe relearn your habits, get to know what made you tick again. But as he walked through your home he found himself at your bedroom door.

He stood there, staring into it seeing the soft way only you could decorate but not daring enough to move in closer.

And before he had a chance to rethink it he walked over to your drawer. He forced himself at first not to open it immediately. He wasn’t sure what he would find there after all. Obviously, you lived here with someone, or partially—but it was enough for Ray to keep his cool.

He opened the first drawer and plucked a dainty pair of your panties. He just wanted a look. They were purple, maybe a shade of pink he didn’t know but he absolutely knew without a doubt you had worn these. He pushed the crotch of it into his nose. Even past the detergent, fabric softener, there was a subtle scent of you. Ray stroked the hardening length stretching his boxer briefs under his loose jeans.

He remembered how your wet pussy was when you rode his face. He had never knew what real joy and freedom was outside of watching you cum on his mouth. Because then you were open and free to show him everything you hid from others. It was the fire in you that he missed.

That part of you he should have appreciated more. He unzipped his jeans tugged and released his large cock from its trap and held it as he inhaled the fragrance you left behind.

Ray stroked himself as he imaged how creamy you looked with one of his loads dripping out of you. That thought alone brought on his orgasm and splashed across the contents of your drawer. The mere thought of you coming back home, bathing, then putting a one of these was enough to make him cum again.

He wiped off his hand with the thin fabric, folded it and placed it back in your drawer.

Ray shut it back, he replaced himself within his pants as he looked around once last time.

He wouldn’t feel so manic anymore. In time you would remember too—that he loved you, still even after all this time. And he wouldn’t let you go again.

The man was slick, dressed in some luxury suit Keith chatted with his work pals as he sipped on his capped coffee or some shit.

Ray was ready. Squared up and pissed off that this man put his hands all over his girl.

The betrayal hit hard. He knew it had been ten years but right now, as he watched the man laugh with a curl in his lip Ray wanted nothing more than to bash his face in.

Ray knocked the cup out of his hand, the contents, hot– steamed up as it hit the ground. Keith didn’t have time to protest before Ray knocked him across the jaw, then the chin and as his head snapped back Ray popped him again, in the gut.

Keith hurled over, wretched up a thick concoction of coffee and whatever he had for breakfast as Ray kneed him in the face.

The other three suits didn’t move. They didn’t so much as speak when Ray turned to them marveling in the shock and fear spreading across their face Ray smiled back.

He turned back to Keith, stared at the man with righteous fury as Keith sank to the ground in his expensive suit.

“Next time you put your hands on her you’re going to disappear.” Ray’s voice was calm and despite the warp of paranoia currently flooding into his mind, he kept it that way. “Do you understand?”

Keith looked up, confusion and blood all over his face. “My girl? Who the fuck are you?” Keith bravely spoke up.

Ray jerked up him by his lapel shoved him against the brick building barely missing the gutter along the corner. “She isn’t shit to you now. You understand? Don’t fucking talk to her, don’t text her. You got that?”

Keith writhed in pain at the back of his head, then when he realized he couldn’t move he nodded.

Ray nodded, mocking the bleeding man he smiled as he spoke. “Stay away?” he asked.

Keith, frozen in shock, echoed Ray’s words in a soft voice.

“Stay away.”

You couldn’t place the smell. But it stuck to the inside of your nose and even made each breath you drew add to the rawness at the top of your mouth.

You remembered drinking. The taste of some tart-sweet cocktails still rolled around the back your tongue. Ray’s face glided back to your memory. The moments and snippets of a night out with him began to resurface.

And in the moments before you opened your eyes you remembered Ray’s face drawn into a smile, his eyes held yours and his hands greedily held on to you as you drank.

When your eyes opened you were met with the image of your bedroom. You tried to move but the muscles of your legs, ass felt heavy as hell so you rolled to your back.

You laid there in the wave of tingles and tiredness for a few minutes. You struggled to remember how you got home the path from the bar to your front door was at least twenty minutes. But right now it only seemed like you could remember the last shot and the sound of the squeaky frame of your bed.

The hot water from the shower melted away the night before. Happily, you felt great, though hungry so you were quick to finish. Stray drops splashed from the tips of your hair as you wrapped it up to the top of your head. The soles of your feet cooled under the wood of the floor as you walked to your kitchen. Thoughts elsewhere, mostly on Ray, you glanced at the pile of clothes on the couch in your living room but you didn’t get give it a second look. You walked through on your way to the kitchen, rounded the corner and come face to face with the naked broad chest of a man.

“Hey Sunshine,” Ray’s smooth voice jolted you back and away but one of his long arms pulled you back toward him.

“Ray!” you said, lightly your hands fall to his chest, then your eyes land on your hands and the swirls of hair in between your fingers. “And..you have no clothes on.” The bewilderment in your voice came across more than the fear that he was there.

“The bar…Keith never showed up…” you said but quickly Ray overwhelmed, crowed you as his hands tugged at the sash of the robe.

When he leaned down to you, the smell of washed skin hung as he pecked the corner of your mouth. “Fuck that piece of shit, baby girl.” he breathed, your body began to shiver with his hands pulling back your robe.

“Take me back,” he asked, his hands rough like his voice slid down over your naked ass. Ray hunched over you with his six foot five frame swathing your body with his presence.

You pushed back but he kept you there. Wrapped in his arms.

“Did we?” you asked, your breath became more shallow. You were mad that you wanted him but also too afraid to admit it. But you also wanted to know what had occurred the night before.

“I didn’t touch you…I could have..” he said. The heat of his body glided up to you, his hands dove passed your asshole to your cunt. “But I’m going to show you now.”

His fingers caressed your folds, urging you to comply. “Ah, there it is Sunshine.” A tinge of hilarity mixed with sultry want lingered in his voice. Slowly, he walked you back to the living room. He had you now. The past pushed back against the weight of the present, you suddenly remembered everything about his body and how he only made you feel.

“I’m going to fuck you on that couch.” One his hands came back, held the base of your neck, the other came from around your ass and buried into your pussy. You jerked, even twisted a little as he immediately remembered your body too.

“You want me to fill you up?” groaned Ray, then kissed your moist lips. He pulled back stared at you as he pushed and rubbed your clit whipping up your wetness. “Answer me.” He demanded.

Your blood pounded in your ears and warped the sound of his voice entangling it with the tone of his past. He was bad, all wrong you knew that. Somewhere deep inside your soul, there was a part of him that would put you through that all over again.

It was in his nature.

Your hands found the sides of his beard, you caress him drawing him into your kiss again.

“Sunshine,” his voice sounded light, tender—different.

You considered long enough. “Ray…I’ll take you back. But you better not hurt me again.”

“You’ll have more to fear than just handcuffs…” you smiled when you spoke, but promised with your eyes. Ray laughed, the sound of it rang in your ears sent a shudder down your spine. The tough crooked man and his menacing energy rived up the longing within you. It stroked at the unabashed want he always brought out in you.

Ray pushed you back on the couch, spilling your robe open exposing the thickness of your body, your dark shiny smooth skin.

His eyes, steely and determined roamed all over you as he began to unbutton his pants. “I’m going to give you everything.”

Ray’s pants dropped, he pulled at his underwear and your eyes settled on the large cock that flopped out. The bright pink tip weeping with want for you. A smile crept on to his lips at your reaction. He bent down, hovered over you before settling against your spread legs. “You forgive me?” he asked, the prickles of his beard tickled your chin before his lips pushed over yours.

“Do you?” he asked against your lips.

“Yes..” you whispered as Ray pushed against your entrance. “I do, baby…” you said again.

You breathed before he plunged. You remembered right, he was just as big and wide as before. The smoothness of his strokes hit the spot, the hot bundle of nerves buried deep inside you pulled and stretched around him.

“My…” Ray moaned, and then said roughly, “Sunshine.” his hands gathered up around your breasts holding them as he kissed you again.

His soft, warm tongue glided over your bottom lip, he sucked it into his mouth and then pressed his lips in once more. The slap of skin matched the heady breaths beating from your lungs.

You groaned, the reaction to his love could not be kept silent. Ray remembered lovingly how much he use to make you scream.

He released your breasts as you wrapped your arms around his neck he grabbed up the back of your knees opening you more to him. Ray filled you as he promised. The length of his cock pushed to his balls inside of you. His long, strokes dragged within slapping against your wet folds.

“Oh my god Ray…” your head rolled back, you both fought the feeling and welcomed it.

He smudged a kiss across your lips before he spoke. “’Missed this big cock in your little pussy?” a smile, satisfied and growing dark creased within his beard as he looked down at you.

Your eyes fell on his face, you remember this feeling—being taken so strongly, so tenderly. “I missed us,” you said between thrust.

Ray’s hands left your knees and found your face pulling your lips back to his. Seconds passed with your lips locked to his as he slid a hand between your bodies.

“I love you…never stopped.” He said the tips of his long fingers glided over your hard clit. “I want to fill you up,” he murmured over your lips. “Sunshine. I want to give you a baby.”

His words, his fingers draw upon something you never considered. “You want me..?” he asked, as he pushed harder, fucked you deeper. You clenched around him, the wave of your cunt responded before you could answer.

“Fuck that baby into me…” you whispered, Ray’s eyes narrowed his hand-pulled from you as he slipped from your body. He flipped you over, bringing your neck to the arm of the couch. You felt the heat of his chest, the slick of sweat of his arm as it pressed against the back of your neck. And he was back inside before your next breath. Ray began to pound into you, your hand hooked over the rim of the couch to brace your body for his rounded thrusts.

You moaned, whimpered every time he pulled out then plunged back in. You fall into yourself the tightness of your thighs reflected the taut sensation in your belly. “You’re going to be feeling me for weeks..” his voice, deep guttural is the trigger. Your eyes flew open, you shuddered all over when you come apart.

Your labored breathing, the stunted murmurs are enough to drive him into a racing pace. He leaned back gripped your hips he has dug in with every pound. And it hurts, you dip your head into the arm of the couch to catch your breath. But Ray doesn’t stop until he too finds himself releasing hard into your tight pussy. His hands suddenly left your hips, both large hands slapped over your ribcage, jolting you into an arching stance as he dragged his hands, your body fully back onto his cock as he came.

Ray’s hands rise along the length of your body until he reached your shoulders. Grabbing you up he pulled you up against his chest as he slipped from your body. His warm cum seeped from your used, swollen lips. His mouth, the smell of his sweat fanned over you as he spoke. “You’re mine…” Ray kissed your ear, and then pecked the skin behind your ear as he swooped your hair away. “Do you hear me?”

You nod lazily you were still buzzing and aching from your orgasm. “You’re the one who left me,“ you whispered, but the hurt in your voice faded as you shifted from him.

Ray’s hands kept you there, jerking you back up and against him, he held you by the waist, the throat.

“I won’t make that mistake again, Sunshine.” Said Ray, lovingly against the hold on your neck he placed kisses up to your jaw, your temple. “I have a job coming up. You won’t be left behind…on my word.”

You had decided that Ray was a fucking liar.

And without fail he had separated you, once again, from the people you had grown close to. Keith had caught a deathly beat down to the point the man wouldn’t even look at you now. You were livid and with little room to express just how much you resented Ray. You didn’t have his number because, why would he leave you with a way of contacting him? You were furious.

The same shit—over and over again.

The news came out that the Los Angeles Fed was infiltrated. You absolutely suspected Ray.

It was your job he hit.

Once again, it reminded you of the confrontational nature Ray had, the impossible was always the point of the challenge for him.

So you ducked your head down, kept at your job and said little to anyone.

Hurt turned to resentment quick when you realized the very man that had returned to your life had also put your job at risk. But also with the worry, a pain like no other surfaced when you learned the gang had been killed. And despite the anger. You did love him. So you called the people you use to know. Like the passionate woman you were you actually went looking for Ray.

But your efforts turned nothing up.

If he were dead, wouldn’t the police department glorify it? More than likely the embarrassment that one got away was why it wasn’t in the papers, splashed all over the internet, or the news. But after awhile the resentment came back and it was enough to stop looking. Fuck him, and fuck his heart.

And that’s were your mind was when you opened the front door. A round of loud knocking pulled you awake early one Saturday morning. You rolled out of bed, anger already stirring inside you, fixing your mouth to curse whoever it was at your door.

But when you opened it no one other than a small cardboard package. It had stamps all over it. Foreign, distant places some you had never heard of. So you picked up it, curiosity spreading across your sleepy mind you carried in and sat on the couch.

You flashed back to the moments Ray left you notes everywhere. The memory of a time he was willing to give in a bit, bare his neck to you for love. Ripping at the brown paper tape the lip opened easily to a few slips of crinkled stationery, an envelope, a phone and what looked like a postcard.

You pulled out the card, over it in dusky orange, grey was the dark silhouette image of Big Ben in sunset, the tall tower stood proud in the evening sun. You flipped it over and it read: Sunshine.

Your eyes went back to the contents of the box as you set the card to the side. Next, the note, you were shaking as you tapped into something wild, forbidden. Your heart was beating fast you slipped the note into your trembling hands.

The phone only has one number.

I wish I could go back. Make it all better again. But what’s done is done we can only move forward. And we will.

You stared at the note. And then the anxiety smoothed out. Anything that you were thinking up until reading that note fell away from your mind.

Ray remembered.

All of the hate you had held for him was struck away by this beautiful criminal gesture. Your Ray, in his own way, had held to his promises. And the hope, the only bright thing you could feel had you gripping the phone. You rolled it around in your hands until the face of it stared back up at you. You turned it on, waited for it to boot up as you unknowingly held your breath.

Ray had always needed a little sunshine in his life…

Part 2

#Ray Merrimen #Ray Merrimen x Black Female Reader #Ray Merrimen x Black Reader #Black Reader #Black!reader #black!female reader

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ingeniousmindoftune · 2 years

Note

I would like to request Ray Merrimen from Den of Thieves. Thank you 🙂

I would have to watch that movie again because I don’t remember what exactly went down for a better plot, do you have a specific plot that you would like done for him? I’ll be working on it today. Just not sure when it will be published since I need to watch the movie again.

But gladly. 🥰

#black writer #black fanfiction #black writers #imagines #black reader #pablo #pablo schreiber #den of thieves #ray merrimen #pablo schreiber x reader #asks open #anonymous asks #asks and replies #actors #send me asks #answered asks #writers on tumblr #fanfics #fanfiction

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mrsarnasdelicious · 3 months

Text

Alright, Yous asked for this - PART ONE

Here is the full list of all my active WIPs:

Warning: My WIPs will occationally feature RPF / RPS or incest/crackships

Priest Masema Longfic - God's Wonders Pagan!Reader x Priest!Masema. Masema goes to great lengths to convince Reader of his faith, but also does everything God has forbidden. Turns a bit culty and toxic. Masema is basically touch/love starved and eats up every morsel Reader gives him.

Ray Merrimen Fic Probably gona be three or so chapters, about Reader having been in love with Ray for her entire conscious life, being on and off with him, reminiscing and eventually having his baby.

Two Plus Two For my GF, it's smutty, it is Gerry Butler and Pablo Schreiber and the two of us. Nothing to see here, move on.

New Years Resolutions - DJ Sihtric New Years smut, Sihtric having you in the DJ booth at the NYE party.

Everything is a Fight with Me Jay Kulina Smut, mommy kink, dom!reader.

By The Grace Gods - American Gods Fix It Fic Lame self insert, bc I don't want Sweeney to have died. Chapter One; I meet and shack up with a certain well beloved Leprechaun.

Cassa Nova's Silver Lining - Chapter 3 Chapter Three of my Napoleon Solo Arranged Marriage fic. You are still on the fence about Leon, but have a wedding to prep for.

Bodyguard Sihtric - Only You - Longfic Sihtric is your bodyguard and you really want to make him fuck you. Odd Dom-Sub dynamic and a lot of tension.

At Your Altar - Modern Cultist Unhinged Toxic Masema Longfic Reader is a trust fu baby, Masema a personal trainer. Masema is convinced reader is a Goddess reincarnated and goes full unhinged.

Puppy Boy - Animal Shelter Sihtric Long Fic Second Chapter of my needy subby slow burn autistic cutie pie Sihtric fic. Sihtric is falling in love with you and will use every excuse to see you. He is being disgusting about you and Finan gets a bit fed up with it.

Free Use - Sub Sihtric Does what it says on the tin, Sihtric being free use to reader.

I can handle you. Nyneave and Lan engage in some rough bedroom activities.

Free Use - Lukas Nowak Reader being free use to Lukas

Heir!Sihtric Arranged marriage-ish. Heir!Sihtric and reader get too know each other the quick way.

Between Them [Finan x Sihtric x Reader] Bard!Reader gets a bit more than she bargained for when she finds herself between a Dane and an Irishamn.

Werewolf!Sihtric - Do I have to teach you? Alpha!Werewolf!Reader x Newly Bitten Wolfie!Sihtric. Puppy boy has no idea what he is doing and is looking for a place to belong, which you gladly provide him with.

Caught In The Middle Sihtric x Reader x Masema. You just can't seem to tear yourself away from Masema, even though he is a toxic asshole. But then you meet Sihtric and nothing else seems to matter.

Undercover Life - Masema During the time in Falme, Masema poses as a Soldier, coming home to you.

Two Versions of Showersex Two for one smut, one with subby Sihtric and one with dommy Sihtric.

Tied Up Brat - Sihtric Some bondage with Sihtirc being bratty.

Doggy Style - Masema Does what it says on the tin, Masema fucking you Doggy.

Riding Masema Doing it cowgirl with Masema

Missionary - Masema Well duh...

DJ Sihtric Longfic - Ch 2 Sihtric takes you out on a date and things end up in your bed.

Sweetheart Prompt #12 Secret little nugget featuring the one and only Mr F.

A Language I Don't Speak [Credence x Aberforth] Credence has no idea how to recieve love and Aberforth sorta forgot how to give it. Fuck ups ensue. TW: Incest

Dojo Owner Masema A modern verse Masema having reader on the work out matt.

Marked - Cain El-Adam Some SCP 073 smut I have no true aim with yet.

Taunting Sihtric "You get so horny, it's cute." With Sihtric.

Taunting Finan "You get so horny, it's cute." With Finan.

Taunting Osferth "You get so horny, it's cute." With Osferth

Taunting Uhtred "You get so horny, it's cute." With Uhred.

Blind for me - Bassist Sihtric You are set up on a blind date with Bassist!Sihtric and it goes a little too well.

Some Voyeurism, Bc I am evil Some post partum sexy time with Mr F, bc I do this for me.

Lordly [Lord!Sihtric] Sihtric as Lord of Dunholm, hoping to find a new wife in reader. No true plot, just smut.

This is the honeymoon [Modern!Sihtric] Honeymoon night smut

Race Me [Underground Racer!Sihtric] Underground racer Sihtric picks up reader after she is harassed by members of a rivalling 'team' and takes her home for some extra curiculars.

Home at last [Soldier!Sihtric] Your husband is home from war and he is here to fuck you.

Pitter Patter Paws [Animal Shelter Sihtric] More subby desperate animal shelter Sihtric BS, just a smut this time.

Flashing Light [Model!Sihtric] Model Sihtric hooking up with photographer reader.

Marching a Band [Bebban Boys Poly Shit] Poly Band!Pretty Boys x Manager Reader, pure smut.

Drinks on me [Bartender Sihtric] Bartender Sihtric x Waitress reader, smut af!

Baby It's Cold Outside [Jotun!Sihtric] Jotun!Sihtric smut I have no aim with yet.

Make it up to me [Cagefighter Sihtric] Requested make up sex with Cagefighter Sihtric.

Dance with the Devil [Demon!Sihtric] Reader comes home to roomies summoning a demon, Sihtric, who ends up fucking reader rather than roomies, as intended.

Slipping Off The Racetracks [Motor Racer!Sihtric] Smut without plot about reader and Motor Racer!Sihtric

Bad Wrong Vampire Sihtric Just vampire Sihtric being bad wrong for reader, with smut as the main course

Rebounding [Modern!Sihtric] He got he arse dumped and comes back to you.

THEY WERE ROOMMATES [Cagefighter!Sihtric] OH MY GODS THEY WERE ROOMMATES

Lawless [Police!Sihtric] Police!Sihtric x Witness!Reader doing things they were not supposed to do.

All Mine [Dom Modern!Sihtric] Smutty smut with dom Sihtric

Bend for Me [Gym Instructor!Sihtric] Sex as a work out, plain ol' smut.

Lace and Leather [BDSM Club!Sihtric] Switch Sihtric helps readr explore what she likes

Bound to You [Tatted Pierced Collared Modern!Sihtric] Veyr subby Sihtric smut.

More of Your Magic [Hunter Sihtric] Basically SPN AU smut

Wana be a Step Dad [Modern!Sihtric] Single Mom!Reader gets too close too quickly with Modern!Sihtric.

Flintwood - Not At All Marcus Flint x Oliver Wood, post war smut

Pop That Melon! Arnas F Arnas popping a melon with his thighs and reader cleaning him up.

Modern! Omega! Sihtric! - I Need a Hero Omega Sihtric is desperate for a mate and reader is just the right Alpha for the job.

Shadows and Storms on the Horizon SCP longfic abt me and my gf

#This is probably going to have to be a three part post fam #here is the first 60

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chemicalalice · 2 years

Note

Request: Sex with Ray Merrimen after a successful heist.

Hope this fits the bill!

Title: Adrenaline

Summary: Post-heist energy needs to be worked off...somehow.

Pairing: Ray Merrimen x female!Reader

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, swearing, Please be mindful of yourself and do not read if this content bothers you. 18+ only!

Word count: 1385

Ray was, unsurprisingly, something of an adrenaline junky. It was why he joined the Marines. And it was why he decided that robbing banks was a good post-military career. It was more than just the physical rush, it was that they both involved his brain. Planning and perfect execution was what got his adrenaline truly pumping.

And it was pumping now. A near perfect heist, all his meticulous planning unfolding like a perfectly choreographed dance. In, out, and home free. Although his hands were as steady as ever, he felt almost shaky with the left over adrenaline.

Ray looked across the warehouse to where the others were unloading their recent prize. Stacks and stacks of neatly banded $100 bills being piled on a table, waiting to be counted. You were slightly off to the side, tac vest hanging open as you tipped your head back and greedily sucked down a bottle of water. Even from this distance he could see the slight sheen of sweat across your upper chest that you worked up on the job. He could feel himself start to harden at the sight of the tops of your breasts and the long curve of your neckl on display.

He pulled on the straps of his own vest and tugged the thing over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side. There really only was one outlet for all this post-job energy.

"Everyone get out," he growled as he stalked over to where you stood.

You gave him a coy smile as you set your water bottle on the table and moved to leave with the others, who wisely were keeping their mouths shut about his abrupt dismissal as they began to shuffle out.

Ray grabbed your wrist, squeezing lightly, as you were passing him. "Not you."

You laughed softly as you pulled your arm from his grip and leaned back against the table, your legs slightly apart; welcoming. He crowded into the space you left immediately, lifting you up to sit on the edge of the table, one hand fisting in your hair to tilt your face up to meet his as his lips crashed down against yours, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, letting you feel how hard he was; how much he wanted you.

Usually you like to savor him; take it slow. But this time you didn't hesitate in pulling his shirt off, breaking the kiss only momentary to get the fabric over his head before his lips were on you again, your hands greedily running over his chest and abs and down to the waist band of his pants, tugging urgently, your own eagerness sudden but not unexpected. He was the single most perfect specimen you had ever laid your eyes on and you didn't think you would ever get tired of looking at him. Not that you would ever tell him that. His ego was big enough; it didn't need your help. But you think he knew anyways; you could feel his smirk as he pushed your hand away.

He, on the other hand, didn't bother with your shirt, knowing this wasn't going to be long, a fact he confirmed when he wrenched your pants to your ankles and dipped his hand down to curl two fingers inside of you. You were soaking.

"Does robbing banks get you wet baby?" He murmured against your lips, enjoying the soft gasp of pleasure you gave at his ministrations.

"You get me wet Ray." You couldn't help that it came out as practically a moan. And it was true. You don't think that there was much that he did that didn't get you wet; that didn't cause you to crave him with an almost startling ferocity.

Ray continued to fuck into you with his fingers as his other hand came up to your throat, forcing you back into your elbows, a few of the neat stacks of bills toppling over. Neither of your paid any attention to it.

Ray knew he wasn't going to last long once he got inside of you, the visceral thrill of a job well done already having him keyed up. The sight of you moaning on the table with his fingers buried in your cunt, the sound your wetness made as he moved them; that certainly didn't help. He could take the time to take you apart properly, to have you begging him to stop while begging him for even more, later. Right now he just needed to be in you.

He made sure he got you off before removing his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to suck your taste off of them before finally unfastening his own pants and pulling himself out, using that same hand to guide himself to your dripping entrance, his eyes locked on your the entire time.

He was rough as he filled you will a single thrust. You let out whimper as he bent over you, his arm coming down to brace himself on the table behind you, knocking even more stacks of money over and tumbling to the floor as his other arm again curled around your waist to hold you in place as he pounded into you.

He continued to hold your gaze for the first few thrusts before burying his face in the crook of your neck with a grunt. "Jesus, the things you do to me," he rasped and your toes curled in pleasure at the sensation of his facial hair rubbing at your throat and collarbone almost in the same rhythm as his dick was moving in and out of you.

"God, Ray, I'm gonna cum," you moaned and you would have fallen back against the table completely if it wasn't for his arm around you, anchoring your body to his and he wound you higher and higher.

"Me too," he grunted, and the sound of him so him so wrecked by just this had you losing it. You bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming it felt so damn good, and you could feel him following not long after, the warmth of his spend filling your core accompanied by his low moan.

"Fuck I love you," he panted into your ear as he came down from it, all that pent up energy from the job finally finding its release inside of you. You smiled and pulled him to you for another kiss, this one more affectionate and considerable lazier then the one you shared earlier.

But you didn't let it last long before you were pushing at his shoulder to get him off of you. "Come on big guy, we gotta wrap this up so the guys can get back in here." At one point you would have died from humiliation knowing the rest of the crew was just on the other side of the garage door, knowing Ray was in here fucking your brains out. But now? Now you were used to Ray's post-job.... attentions, and his ability to wait until you were somewhere private. And you think they were too. Ray pulled away then and you gave a small whimper at the feeling if him leaving you before you immediately clenched up, suddenly mindful of the fact that you were basically laying on a pile of money that still had to be counted by said guys who were waiting for you to finish your little tete-a-tete . Now THAT, that had you a little embarrassed. Ray smirked at you, knowing exactly what you were thinking. Fucking pervert. You slid off the table and grabbed his discarded tank top, using it to clean yourself up before throwing at back at him. He caught it will a chuckle, not caring at all, and you couldn't stop your answering grin as you pulled your pants back up.

You were in the process of picking the the spilled money off the ground when the guys returned. Enson took one look at you and then turned to Ray, pointing at the money. "I swear to fucking God, man, if I find a single one of those bills with even a drop of jizz on it I'm out! You nasty mother fuckers can count that shit yourselves!"

Ray just smirked.

________________________________

Tag List:

@buckybarneshairpullingkink

#fic #ray merrimen #den of thieves #ray merrimen x reader #ali writes fic

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hibiscuswrites · 2 months

Note

Is there ever a situation where Ray get jealous and possessive? How would he show his dominance?

I would say he gets possessive much more than he gets jealous. He trusts you and knows that he doesn't have to worry about you stepping out, and most men know better than to go after whats his. So I don't see very many instances where he gets jealous.

But possessive? Often.

He's protective over you and his family, so he really doesn't give people an inch. A dude trying to chat to you at the store or something? He sidles up behind you completely silent, doesn't even say a word, just wraps his arm around your waist, hand stroking over your tummy in a way that only your man would touch you. So he stakes his claim, mouth closed, eyes boring into the dude until he scurries away.

At the bar or restaurant and a dude sends a drink your way? He looks over at whoever the waitress says ordered it and lifts it up in mock gratitude before holding it up to your lips and pouring the drink into your mouth, making a point of reaching his thumb over to gently swipe at the drop on your lower lip, then bringing it up to his own mouth to suck it away. He stakes his claim silently, but his energy is that of a Doberman and it usually doesn't take much more than that to get anyone to leave you alone.

Ray Merrimen taglist

@belle82devart @lilac-tea-time @thickemadame @browngirldominion

General taglist

@titty-teetee @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

Reminder that you can add or remove yourself to any of my taglists as well as update your user so that you can be tagged here

#headcannons #ray merrimen #den of thieves #ray merrimen x reader

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theesirenteller · 4 months

Note

ray x ex!wife reader, who poc please <3

#ray merriman #ray merrimen x reader #rat merrimen x poc wife

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Text

Kinktober Day 31

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Ray Merrimen x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Notes: I'd like to introduce you all to Brat 3.0, because @massivecolorspygiant and I couldn't help ourselves and our Brat headcanoning

Also I've never written this kink before, but I've done some...Research, let's say research.

Also AAAAAAHHHH LAST DAY OF KINKTOBER CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??? Huge shoutout again to @absurdthirst for putting together these awesome prompts.

Warnings: Prey play, dub-con, dom/sub dynamics, derogatory language, pussy slapping, restraints, gagging, rough sex, piv, unprotected sex, aftercare, praise kink

You go over the rules again.

You don’t fuss or quibble, though it annoys you, a little. You feel like a kid, being reminded of what’s what and who’s in charge. But you know, deep down, that Ray just wants you comfortable and safe. It’s not that he can't switch off his hunter mode once it’s on. It’s that he doesn’t want either of you so deep in the game that you begin to second-guess yourself, or your choices. He wants you clear-headed ahead of it.

So you sit on the back of his truck with him standing between your legs, swinging your legs back and forth, your feet brushing against his calves. You go over all of it—boundaries, safe words, hard stops, everything. You recite it all by heart, slowly and carefully, your hands smoothing over his forearms gently. His hands rest warmly on your hips, squeezing encouragingly as you hit every correct point.

“Good girl,” He murmurs once you’re through. You lean up for a kiss as you hit the last guideline. You pucker up pointedly, humming as you wait for him. Ray huffs a soft laugh through his nose and leans down, pressing his lips gently to yours. You sink up into him, arms looping around his waist as his hands smooth over your back.

“You gonna run fast?” He murmurs against your lips. You giggle, nodding.

“I’m gonna run so fast. We haven’t been training for nothing, mister.”

Ray’s smile widens a touch, fingertips dipping under your shirt. Then his smile drops, facing growing staunch and serious.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

“Ray—”

“You’ll use your safeword.”

“I will. I promise.”

“...You promised last time, too.”

Your head dips in shame. You’d been so arrogant about what you thought you could handle the first time you did this, but you know better now. You hadn't spoken up until it was almost too late. By the time you had, your body was shaking, and tears were slipping from your eyes.

“I learned,” You insist softly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

Ray curls his hand around your jaw, tipping your head up to meet his gaze.

“You promise me.”

“I swear, Ray.”

He nods a little before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You let your eyes slide closed, cuddling even closer to his chest.

“You alright?” He murmurs.

“Mmm. Just gettin’ all my cuddling in before you get all…You know.”

“Quiet?”

“Mm, you’re usually pretty quiet.”

“All what, then?”

“Predatory.”

You rest your chin on his chest, batting your eyelashes at him and puckering your lips again. Ray indulgently cups your cheeks, leaning in and giving you a warm, deep kiss. You tighten your grip on his shirt, pressing your chest up against his. He draws away, patting your cheek lightly before leaning back. You whine, reaching for him.

“Save those sounds for later, baby. Go get ready,” He urges, taking a step back. “It’s starting to get dark.”

You get changed in the cab. It’s going to be chilly, but you’re set to face that, along with the inevitable bruises and scrapes you’re likely to endure. You tug on a long sleeve tee, a pair of sweatpants, and your sturdiest sneakers. Then, once you’re certain he’s not looking, you slip in an extra surprise for Ray, too.

The sun has nearly sunk fully into the sky as you join Ray at the edge of the clearing.

“You ready?” He asks. You nod insistently.

“More than.”

“Shoes tied tight?”

“Ray.”

“It’s a valid question. Don’t need you tripping over your laces.”

“Oh, please, you’d love that.”

“I would not. I’m gonna take you down fair and square.”

You can’t help but smile with the way he says gonna. Your body is already beginning to thrum with anticipation. You have been training, and you are faster than the last time you did this, but you can’t outrun Ray. You’ll likely never be able to, no matter how hard you work at it. That won’t stop you from trying, but you both know he’s going to take you down. You want to lean up for another kiss, another nuzzle. You wanna cup his face and draw him in and snuggle. But—the sooner you get going on this, the sooner you’ll feel the rush, the crest, and the inevitable comfort of Ray’s arms.

“Be careful out there,” Ray warns. “You see anything dangerous, anyone else, you radio me—”

“And turn back. Baby, I know. We’ve already gone over this.”

He sighs softly, nodding, murmuring, “Alright.” He palms your cheek, thumb skimming your cheekbone. “Get a move on. You have a half-hour head start.”

You don’t aim to put the furthest distance between the two of you. That was your mistake last time—that was what had tired you out, and led to your condition by the time Ray had caught up to you. Your goal now is to hide in the most advantageous way possible. You’re trying to think strategically—but it’s hard. Your heart is thudding roughly in your chest. Your blood is roaring in your ears. Your stomach is twisting with nerves. You know that Ray, the Ray that finds you, won’t be your gentle, stalwart, but ultimately sweet Ray. He’ll be harsh, sharp, and cruel.

You’ll fucking love it.

You curl your arms tightly around yourself, burrowed against the wide trunk of an oak tree. You rub your arms gently along your core, warming it to keep yourself from shivering. It’s not freezing; it’s just cold enough for you to feel the faint wobble of a shiver creeping up. You hear a twig snap beside you, and your head twitches toward the sound. It’s a few moments of silence, and then a squirrel is darting just into and out of your field of vision. You push out a slow, calming breath between your lips. You draw another in through your nose, fighting to keep yourself steady. The suspense is fucking killing you.

It’s been nearly an hour. You thought Ray would find you by now. Fuck, maybe he has. Maybe he’s nearby, watching you panic—No. No. Be calm. You’re psyching yourself out.

Besides, Ray doesn’t like to play with his food.

At least, not like that.

You hear the rustle of leaves, and for a moment, you stop breathing. You wait…And wait…And then Ray’s warning growl of, “Hop to, little bunny,” Sends you scurrying off again. Your feet slip and scrabble over fallen leaves. You hardly manage to avoid tripping over a few roots before jumping over a log. You can hear the steady thudding of his feet behind you. It pushes you to run until your lungs and legs are burning, your training giving way to your desperation to keep out of his grasp. And then your foot slips. You falter for just a few seconds, but it’s all he needs.

Ray’s arm hooks around your middle, tugging him back into his chest to slow you before shoving you down to your hands and knees. You gasp sharply as Ray drops to one knee, hauling you back by your shirt. You wobble, then yelp as Ray takes hold of your wrists. He’s quick to work the zip tie around them, tightening it and locking your arms behind your back. You open your mouth to holler—with the threat of hollering, really. You wouldn’t. You don’t want anyone stumbling on the two of you and getting the wrong idea. But Ray slaps his hand over your mouth, drawing you sharply against his chest.

“You keep quiet,” He warns lowly, “And I’ll be a little more careful with you.”

It’s a goad, and he knows it. You don’t want him to be careful. You wrench yourself in his grasp, squaring your elbows and trying to shove at him. Ray tuts. You feel him rifling in his pocket for something, his grip loosening just a little. You hurry to try and get up, making it just two wobbly steps before you fall to the ground. Ray’s back on top of you immediately. He grasps your shoulder, rolling you over onto your back. You open your mouth with the threat of hollering again, but Ray grasps your jaw, pushing it wider and cramming a bandana into it. You let yourself holler then, knowing it'll be muffled, kicking your feet and squirming beneath him.

Ray rests his hand on your throat, just hard enough to keep you pinned and mostly still. He reaches down, shoving at the waistband of your sweatpants and pushing them down around your thighs. You squeeze your thighs shut as tightly as you can, as long as you can. But Ray wriggles his fingers between your thighs, finding your pussy slick and aching. He shifts to slide a knee between your thighs, pushing your legs wide and landing a slap on your cunt. You groan, eyes crossing as he levels a second, then a third. Your back arches up off of the ground, head tipping back into the dirt and leaves as you lean into the sting. His cock his hard in his sweatpants, tenting the fabric and warm against your thigh.

Your arms are beginning to ache where they’re trapped under you. Your nipples harden, rubbing against the fabric of your bralette. You tip your head up just a touch as Ray bows over you. He draws his thumb along your slit, teasing your clit with slow, careful circles.

“You’re already so wet,” He murmurs.

You shiver, the feeling having nothing to do with the cold rushing over your slick, heated skin. Ray’s fingers drift a lower, set to tease along your cunt. And then his fingers catch on the rubber. His gaze flickers, and one of his little smiles appears and disappears in the space of a blink.

“Slutty little thing, aren’t you.”

You shake your head vehemently, but Ray chuckles, reaching down and teasing it in and out of your pussy.

“No?” He taunts, eyes wide as he draws it out entirely, dangling the slick neon pink vibrator over your head. Your eyes track it nervously, like someone being hypnotized. Ray chuckles again, reaching down. He draws the bandana from between your lips, flinging it away and shoving the vibrator in in its place. The flavor of your cunt bursts on your tongue, and you manage a weak whimper. Ray leans back just enough to slide his pants down around his thighs. You tip your head forward, eyes widening at the sight of his hard cock bobbing between his thighs. He meets your eyes, breaking your illusion for just a moment as he reaches down, drawing the vibrator from between your lips. There’s a trail of spit between your lips and where he holds it.

“You have anything to say?” He murmurs.

It’s an out—a chance to splutter your safeword, or the standby of red light in case your brain is too scrambled. Instead, you slur out, “Fuck you!”

The words are watery as they leave your thick throat. Ray smiles then, cramming the vibrator back between your lips before he shoves his hips forward. Your eyes roll back into your head as your cunt throbs and stretches around him. Your body pushes up into him, feet scrabbling against the ground as your knees squeeze around his hips. Ray bows over you, chest pushing against yours as he presses you tightly against the ground.

“Fuck,” You groan around the vibrator. “Shut up,” He orders, sliding his hand from your neck to grasp your jaw. “Look at me.”

You blink up at him, eyes not fully focusing as he begins to roll his hips in tight, controlled circles. When he chuckles this time, it’s a mean sound.

“Already cockdrunk,” He growls, “Pathetic.”

You groan, arching your back up and pushing into him. You don’t bother to hide your desperation anymore. You just struggle and shove your body against his, desperate for more contact, more of his harsh love.

Ray gives it to you. He keeps you pinned to the ground, fucking into you like you’re a goddamn ragdoll, pliable, his for the taking. He doesn’t let up for a moment. Sometimes he presses so tightly against you that you’re not sure you’ll be able to breathe. His movements are praise and punishment all at once, giving you what you need and taking what he wants. Your orgasm begins to build, like a fire flickering in your belly. You push your body up against Ray’s, trying to show him. You don't need to tell him—Ray knows you backward and forward. He just fucks you with that same, deep, tight, controlled grind of his hips as he did when he first ground into you.

You press your hips insistently up against his, squeezing down around his cock. Your hips pulse and jump against his, body pushing back into the dirt as he pushes you into the ground. Ray presses his face into your neck, his growls and grunts sinking hotly into your skin. It’s just another moment before you feel him spill into you. You squeeze down around him, knees tightening around his hips. Ray tips his head up after a moment, his beard brushing your heated skin. He leans away, drawing out of you carefully. You hiss around the vibrator, cunt still twitching in your aftershocks.

Ray rights his sweatpants before he hooks his fingers in the fabric of your collar, hauling you to sit up.

“You alright?” He asks softly. You nod a little, letting out a soft hum around the vibrator. He reaches up, gently drawing the vibrator from between your lips. Your mouth feels gluey and slick all at once. You swipe your tongue across your lips, jaw sore from the bandana and the vibrator’s light stretching.

Ray leans around you, peering down at your hands. You expect him to draw his swiss army knife out, to cut your arms free. Instead, he turns his head, murmuring, “Can you get out of ‘em for me?”

You want to whine, and pout. You want to tell him no. Frankly, you think if you tell him no now, he’ll undo them. But you wanna be good for Ray—to show him that you listen to what he’s told you, that you remember. You want to make him happy, and proud. You sweep your legs around, exposed thighs and ass scraping against the ground as you get your legs under yourself and wobble as you rise to your knees. Ray leans back, rocking back onto his heels as he watches you.

Your arms are shaking from strain now, but you gather your remaining strength. You draw in a deep breath, closing your eyes. You raise your arms as much as you can behind your back before slamming them down against your back. It’s not enough. The plastic bites into your skin in a way that you can’t fully feel, your hands and wrists numb from their previous positioning. You raise your arms again, loosing a frustrated grunt, then relieved groan as you slam your arms down again, and feel the plastic pop free. “There we go—C’mon,” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you up to stand with him and helping you straighten your clothing.

“You made it further than last time.”

“I did?” You mumble, tipping your head down to look at him.

“Good couple’a miles. And you gave me a hell of a chase."

"Couldn't give into you too easily," You tease.

You raise an aching arm, smoothing your hand over his closely-buzzed, freshly washed head. Your hair and bare bodies are still damp from the bath that you’ve taken together. Ray disinfected the few scrapes and scratches you’d endured during your run and your subsequent tryst. Your arms still ache, and your wrists are beginning to blotch and darken with bruises from the zipties. Ray’s settled between your legs now, chin resting on your belly. He slides his hands along your side in turn, head dipping to press a kiss to your sternum.

He doesn’t ask if he was too hard on you. He doesn’t ask if it was too much, too little. But you tell him:

“You were perfect.”

Ray draws in a deep, relieved breath before he sucks a sharp kiss to the hinge of your jaw.

“Strong girl,” He murmurs. Your stomach flutters with warmth, your body humming as the praise washes over you. Ray pushes himself up over you before he dips his head, brushing his lips along your jaw.

“You were perfect.”

Ray draws in a deep, relieved breath before he sucks a sharp kiss to the hinge of your jaw.

“Brave girl.”

Tag list: @leaveinthelurk ; @missredherring ; @fangirlfreakingout ; @stevie25 ; @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna ; @karie-me-home ; @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly; @guyfieriii (tried to tag and it won’t let me D: ) ; @moonlightburned ; @amneris21 ; @shiftingsands14 ; @cloudohell ; @blueeyesatnight ; @inlovewithhisblueeyes ; @reaperofmen ; @winchestershiresauce ;

#Ray Merrimen x Reader #Ray Merrimen x You #Ray Merrimen/Reader #Ray Merrimen/YOu #Ray Merrimen fic #Ray Merrimen imagine #Kinktober #Kinktober 2022 #Youvebeenlivingfictional Kinktober 2022

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nocturnal-milk-dud · 2 years

Note

Emily!!!!!! Spooky Queen!!!! May I??

Ray Merrimen / From Dusk Till Dawn with a splash of sluttiness? 👉🏻👈🏻

What a JOURNEY. I hope you don't mind you know I love that gif

It's A Dark Night

Pairing: Ray Merrimen x Reader

Warnings/notes: blood. Lots; gore; profanity; violence; gun violence; knives; body horror (just trying to cover my bases if you've seen the movie you know what I mean); sexual themes/references, but no smut; character deaths; I think that's it. I'm not sure how I feel about community labels, it feels like a big target on my back or something. Idk I'm gonna try and wait a bit.

Rating: R/Mature

Word count: 1682

You could just stay right here. Ray’s lips on yours in the darkness of the truck. His hands making you moan. It had all started when you made jokes about the name of the bar. Well. What did you expect? A little teasing, a little ‘prove it’. That’s when you knew you were in trouble. The moment those two words left your lips. Now here you are, turning into a puddle in Ray’s lap. And there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Your hands slip under the fabric of his white tank top, the heat of his skin melting you further, but he pulls away.

“We need to meet up with the guys,” he says.

“I’m sure they’ll keep,” you say, and Ray grins, the softest chuckle lifting his chest.

“Once we get this done, split the cash, we’ll have all the time in the world,” he promises.

“Are you willing to put that in writing?”

The Titty Twister is just as charming as the name suggests. Topless dancers everywhere and rude, loud men shouting at each other, at anything. The two of you find Enson and Bosco sitting at a table, a dancer as the centerpiece.

“Would you give us a moment?” Ray asks her. She steps down off the table, using his shoulder for support.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” she asks, her hand lingering a little too long on his arm.

“He’s sure,” you say. The dancer departs with a sneer and the two of you sit down.

The three men are talking about plans, about the money, about the future, while you’re just ready to start it. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it’s long enough that you’re getting antsy, eyes on the door.

"What the fuck?" The men stop talking, following your gaze to the entrance, where you see three members of LASD file in, Nick O'Brien first.

"They got no jurisdiction here," Bosco says and you roll your eyes, turning your attention to Ray. His displeasure settles in the slight dip at the corner of his mouth, the twinge in his jaw. Other than that he's like stone.

"Those motherfuckers aren't here to arrest us," Enson says, subtly checking the chamber of his gun. "You think anyone here is gonna bat an eye at someone getting shot?" You keep watching Ray. His body is tense, primed to do something, never taking his calculating eyes off the men at the door. You reach out to place a hand on his arm, but he stands. It doesn't take anything more than that. Even in a buzzing, raucous bar all he has to do is stand to his full height, piercing eyes cutting across the room, and O'Brien finds him instantly. You have Ray by the arm, trying to pull him down, back to you, but he's not budging. You see it in him then: that thing he came back home with, that thing he hasn't been able to shake, that thing that says he's okay with dying, just hasn't found the person to make it stick. Yet. And it scares the shit out of you.

"Ray," you snap. O'Brien and his men are pushing their way across the room. Ray looks down at you and nods. The three of you stand to follow him, but a crash over by the pool tables catches your attention. One man has another by the collar of his shirt. At first you think it's just an argument over a game, but there's something about one of the men's faces that makes you stop and look harder. As you're watching, he tears out the other man's throat. With his teeth.

"Merrimen!" O'Brien shouts, and you're startled when Ray grabs your hand, tugging you through the crowd.

But the bar has changed. The dancers are sinking their teeth into peoples' necks, limbs are being torn off, hearts ripped out. It's like a switch has been flipped and you're in the dark, Ray leading you through the madness. The two of you are brought to a halt by the table dancer you shooed away before. She looks more like a gargoyle than a woman now, her red eyes surveying Ray.

"Where you goin' baby?" One crinkled finger with a claw at the end traces a line down his chest.

"Back the fuck off!" you snap and she lunges at you, but you've already pulled your knife, and you drive it into the leathery skin of her chest. Gunshots catch Ray’s attention and the two of you find Enson and Bosco at the door.

"Guns don’t do shit!” Enson says, tossing his empty handgun to the floor.

“What the fuck is going on here?" Bosco demands as the four of you stare out at the carnage. O'Brien and his men have been swallowed up in the mob. Hopefully swallowed whole, if you're lucky.

But you'll be next. Not so lucky.

The dancer you stabbed, not to be denied, is making her way over to you. You grab a chair and snap a leg off with your heel. Bosco and Enson are pulled into the fray. You hear Enson apologize after he punches a dancer in the face.

"You dropped something," the vampire says as she nears. She holds your knife away from herself as if she’s disgusted by it. It drips with green blood.

"My mistake," you say before ramming your makeshift stake in her heart. “Won’t happen again.” You pick up the knife, grimacing as you wipe the blade on your jeans. There's a growl nearby and you look up to see a very big bouncer-type vampire glaring at you. He stalks toward you with long, powerful strides when Ray places himself between you two.

"No," he says, very simply, to the vampire. He's not loud, he doesn't have to be. The vampire shrugs and lunges at Ray, who's quick to sidestep and knock the vampire's legs out from under him, bringing him hard to the floor. You toss your stake to Ray who leaves it wedged deep in the creature's black heart. He comes back to you, the two of you watching the monster's flesh melt away.

"Merrimen!" O'Brien calling out, his voice ragged. He's standing on one of the tables, blood drenching the front of his shirt. You watch his face change, deep ridges forming in the skin of his forehead and cheeks, lips stretching wide away from sharpened teeth, hands gnarled with sharp claws.

"Fuck," you whisper. Ray sheds his hoodie, his powerful arms and broad chest ready to fight, but you reach out to stop him. "Stop, please, we have to find a way out of here." He smiles gently down at you.

"We will," he says, a promise you don't quite believe, and picks up the stake.

“Are you willing to put that in writing?” you whisper.

"Ray! Enson!" Behind the bar, Bosco is fighting a losing battle with the bartender. You and Enson rush over to help, but by the time you leap on the bartender's back and hook your arm around his neck, his teeth are already in Bosco's. You flinch, eyes snapping shut at the spray of arterial blood across your face. The bartender drops Bosco to the floor and rips you from his back, launching you across the room, where you crash hard among the tables and chairs–and body parts. By the time you manage to sit up, Enson is wrenching a stake from the quickly disintegrating vampire. You sigh, slouching back on your elbows, even though you know the relief will be short.

And you're right. A hand grabs you by the nape of the neck and hauls you up off the floor. You thrash against your captor but it's not much use.

"I was wondering how you got across the border." O'Brien. But his voice is distorted, deeper. You think about the face you saw across the room and cringe at the thought of having it so close. His breath is rank, thick with decay and hot on your neck. He's not speaking to you though. O'Brien shifts so you’re both facing Ray who's stalking slowly across the room, his chest rising a little faster now, hand gripping his weapon a little tighter now. "Just have to flash…a pretty smile and they wave you right on through." You don't like the way he looks at you.

"You like bad men, sweetheart?" O'Brien asks, his mouth right by your ear, and you flinch, but his hand comes up under your chin and forces your head back. "Make sure to look at him the whole time." Out of the corner of your eye you see O'Brien's head dip to bite you, and you pull the knife from your belt, jabbing and twisting it into his side. It doesn't do much but it allows you to get away. Ray doesn't waste time, moving in to attack. He tosses the stake aside, preferring to end O’Brien with his hands. The vampire goes in for a punch, but Ray catches his arm and throws his elbow into the side of O’Brien’s head before bringing his knee up sharply into his stomach. Doubled-over, but with the strength of a newly made vampire, O’Brien pulls Ray’s legs out from under him and the two of them fall to the floor, O’Brien pinning Ray down. A swift headbutt from Ray loosens O’Brien’s hold and Ray pushes him off. From his new position above O’Brien, Ray brings punch after punch down onto his chest, until the soft tissue and skin give way, the brittle bones crack, and O’Brien’s rotting heart is spread in chunks across Ray’s knuckles.

Enson stands beside you, and the two of you watch as Ray seems to come back to the world. He sits back on his knees, breathing heavily and you approach him slowly. Your hands cup his face, fingers curl under his jaw to coax him up, and he gets to his feet. You both look each other over for injuries. The whole room has gone quiet.

“Is it over?” you ask.

Glass-shattering screeches answer you.

#ray merrimen x reader #spooky season requests #spooky season 2022 #halloween #halloween fanfic #ray merrimen #from dusk till dawn #den of thieves #pablo schreiber #blood cw #gore cw #violence cw #horror cw #massivecolorspygiant

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tropes-and-tales · 1 year

Text

A Bit of Color

December 26: Quilt/Scrooge - Sunny versus Grumpy (Ray Merrimen x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW: Angst; Ray is a rude boi; mention of suicide

Word Count: 1828

AN: Requested by the lovely @bport76!

Ray would have never chosen you for his crew, but Bosco brought you in when they lost their intel person. He’s dubious at first—you’re preternaturally chipper, so cheerful and sweet that Ray’s teeth ache after he has to deal with you.

But Bosco has a good handle on their needs, and you’re an absolute ace at tech. You can hack anything: any computer, any phone system. You can find blueprints and hack a security camera, all with that saccharine attitude that grates against him.

It’s like a Hallmark movie fucked a Care Bear and created you. You dress in bright colors, usually dresses where the skirt flares out as you skip around the fucking chop shop. You hum pop songs as you work. You bake for the guys, cupcakes with rainbow frosting and chocolate chip cookies. You fuss over the guys too, take on a mother hen role that frays Ray’s nerves.

Hell, you even smell sweet, the scent of vanilla and lavender lingering even long after you leave.

Ray would get rid of you in a heartbeat, but you’re too damned good. He knows he could look for someone with half of your skills and never find them.

So he puts up with you. For your stellar hacking skills, he endures your colorful/sweet/manic pixie bullshit with a clenched jaw and a grumble.

-----

You’re also one of those crafty women, always knitting or sewing or painting something. More than once, Ray and the guys have come back from a heist just to find you sitting there and waiting for them, a piece of knitwork in your lap.

You’re also one of those generous types, which means when the holidays roll around, you become extra insufferable.

You bake. You make candy. You can your own jams, jellies, salsas. You make chili and cornbread, feed the guys when they are working late one night. Ray grunts when you hand him a bowl, and he calculates how much harder he’ll have to work out the next day to burn off all the fucking calories—

You give them gifts. Handmade gifts.

For Lavoux, it’s sweaters that you knit. Three sweaters, matching, for him, his wife, and his daughter.

For Bosco, it’s an elaborately wrapped box of homemade fudges. Chocolate, peanut butter, rocky road, orange cream.

“You’re trying to make me fat,” Bosco says as he pulls you in for a hug, pulls you off your feet. “I love ya, girl.”

For Mack, it’s a beer stein that you apparently made yourself, glazed yourself, and fired in a nearby community kiln. Because why the fuck not, Ray figures. He wonders if you mined the clay yourself too, just to be extra fucking irritating.

For Ray? Of course you have a gift for Ray.

It’s a quilt. At least it’s not super colorful, like Rainbow Brite puked on it—it’s shades of grey and blue in small rectangles stitched together.

“It’s a variation of the Big Fences pattern,” you tell him, as if he knows what the hell that means, and he misses the shy smile on your face.

“I don’t really need a quilt.” He refolds it, then tries to hand it back to you.

You frown, your eyebrows knit together. “But…it’s a gift.”

“It’s L.A. I never will need a quilt.”

You seem to misunderstand him because your face splits into a bright grin. “Oh, but I used lightweight batting! It’s not too heavy, so it’s actually perfect for L.A. weather—”

“No.” He pushes the quilt back at you, frowns until you take it. “I don’t need this.”

Ray never has been very tactful, and no one would ever accuse him of being soft, but the way your face crumples as you take the quilt and clutch it to your chest, the way your eyes fill with tears but how to try to play it off, give a shaky laugh and say “sure, sorry Ray, of course”…

He’s never felt like more of a monster in his life.

And then you leave, come up with a flimsy excuse of how you need to be somewhere else.

Even if he didn’t feel like the world’s biggest asshole, the guys cut him zero fucking slack.

“That’s cold,” Lavoux tells him. “Ice cold, man.”

“Like watching someone kill a kitten,” Mack agrees.

Bosco glares at Ray, crosses his arms. “This shit takes time, Merrimen. All this crafty homemade shit? It’s hours of her life, and that quilt was easily the most time-intensive of all of our gifts.”

“I didn’t ask for a gift.” Ray crosses his own arms, matches Bosco’s energy.

“And she didn’t ask for a fucking Scrooge. You don’t want the quilt? You tell her ‘thank you so much, this is great,’ and then you take it home and tuck it away somewhere. Fuck, Ray. You lose all your home training in prison?”

“She’d never even know if you threw it away,” Mack adds. “You coulda just taken it and tossed it, and she’d be none the wiser.”

“Being rude like that is bad karma. Bad juju,” says Lavoux.

“No such thing,” Ray says, and his tone makes it clear that the discussion is over.

-----

Ray doesn’t believe in karma or juju, and nothing overtly bad happens. Still, he has to admit the vibe in the crew has changed.

You’re not the same. Maybe Mack was right, maybe what Ray did to you was like killing a kitten. You still joke around with the guys, but the minute—the absolute second—Ray shows up, you shut down.

You still dress in your colorful dresses, but somehow it’s sadder when your outfits are paired with a slight frown and a sad silence. You don’t hum anymore. No singing along to bright pop songs under your breath as you hack into banking mainframes.

You don’t bake for them anymore either, and that’s what pushes the guys to near mutiny.

“You need to fix this shit,” Bosco mutters to him one night. “I haven’t had one of her peanut butter brownies in weeks.”

“So go to a fucking bakery.”

“I said fix it.” He pushes the words out through gritted teeth. “You’re the one that broke her. You’re the one that’s gonna fix her.”

-----

How can Ray fix it with you?

He has no way into your world view. His life has never been colorful. He grew up in a military family, went straight into the military himself. MARSOC, then his discharge, then his life of crime.

Never any color. Just the dun and greys of the military, of prison. Never any music or sweetness and Ray doesn’t see what he’s missing in all of that.

He does the best he can. He asks himself what he would want, and then he does the exact opposite, which is why he finds himself on your doorstep, a fistful of colorful flowers from the grocery store clutched in his fist.

-----

You’ve always been reasonably assured around Ray, but in your kitchen, you stumble. You offer him tea, then shake your head at yourself, mutter stupid to yourself.

“I have…a beer. If you want it.”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

You reach into your fridge and hand him the bottle gingerly, then perch yourself in the chair opposite of him.

Ray takes a drink, looks around. He thought your house would have been nothing but bright colors, but it looks…mostly normal. A few pops of color here and there: paintings on the walls, knick-knacks on the shelves. But nothing outrageous.

You only stare at him solemnly, a subtle tension in your features.

“I came by to say I’m sorry. About the quilt.”

“I guess it was pretty stupid. A quilt in Los Angeles.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’m just an asshole.”

If there’s one other thing Ray likes about you, aside from your skills as a hacker, it’s your honesty. You never lie to them.

When he calls himself an asshole, you nod at him in agreement.

“I’d like it back,” he continues. “The quilt. If you’d be willing.”

“I don’t know.” You turn and look out the window into your backyard. “You don’t have to take it just to be nice.”

“I’m not nice. I want it. I’ll use it.” A beat. “I don’t have anything homemade in my apartment. It’ll make it nicer.”

You turn back to face him. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

You smile, and it’s the same shy one you had when you first handed him his gift. “Okay then. I’ll go get it.”

You stand up and leave the kitchen, disappear into some deeper part of the house, but Ray stands up too. He takes his beer into your living room and studies the framed photos on the shelf there. You and friends. You and a dog. A little girl that he guesses is you, with an older man in the full dress uniform of the military.

You come into the living room with the quilt neatly folded in your arms, and you see Ray studying your pictures.

“This your dad?” Ray asks, pointing at the man in the uniform.

“…yes.”

“Marines?”

“Yes.” A beat. “He died when I was young.”

“Sorry. Which campaign?”

Another beat, longer. “He…he committed suicide.”

“Ah, shit. Sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Still…” He looks at the picture again, sees you as a little girl with a wide grin, eyes squeezed shut.

He clears his throat, offers you a bit of himself. “You know, my old man was military. Fought in Iraq, came back different. So I get it, a little. I understand what it’s like to grow up like that.”

Though he doesn’t point out the difference: Ray followed down that same military path, allowed himself to be molded into a killing machine with MARSOC. You split off in an entirely different direction, filled your life with color and light and sweetness.

You nod in acknowledgement, then hand him the quilt. “Here you go.”

He takes it and waits for you to look him in the eye until he gives you the smallest of smiles. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It’ll be the nicest thing at my place.”

You get a sly tilt to your lips, a smirk more than a smile. “Not much competition though, right?”

“Oh, that’s how you’re gonna be then? You’re gonna knock my decorating skills?” he jokes back.

“Your decorating skills probably aren’t that bad. It’s easy to match black and grey,” you say with the same teasing grin.

“Well, there’s some blue in this.” He holds up the folded quilt, runs a finger along the neat stitching. “A good start.”

“It doesn’t hurt to have a little color in your life, Ray.”

He guesses not. And more than any color, he has insight into who you are. An inroad into what formed you, what made you the person you are. Better than any color is intel, and Ray has some valuable intel now.

#ray merrimen #ray merrimen x reader #ray merrimen imagine #den of thieves #tropes-and-tales #winter prompts 2022

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xsapphirescrollsx · 8 months

Text

Sunshine pt. 2

Written: Nov 12 2019

Ray Merrimen x Black Female Reader

10 Years Ago

Ray kissed your neck. His hands drew your palms to his chest as he leaned into your shoulder. You lay upon him, resting your body against his warmth never the wiser of his intentions. He licked the skin there, his hands gliding up the hump of your ass over the smooth skin of your spine until he cupped your face.

“I love you.” His voice was light but muddled in tone. A morning husk that often reminded you of the first time you met him years ago. A younger Ray, a teenage asshole who ditched first period to sleep, only to drag his ass in at the end of third with sleep still in his eyes.

“Ray…” his name always tasted sweet in your mouth. You whispered his name again and it turned into a moan as he kissed you.

You slid down his long abdomen, rubbing the heat of your vee along his taut muscles. You are slick and willing but Ray squeezed your thighs forcing you to stop.

Smooth, his voice silkily rolled over his tongue as he spoke. “Sunshine.”

Though you noted the waxy, perturb tone in his baritone voice. It annoyed you a bit but you felt victorious when his head fell back to the pillow. Your hips rocked front to back over his length, his brown eyes focused on the stippled white ceiling in a haze of lust.

For a moment he laid like that, swept up in you and the heat of your thighs but as you began to grip his shaft Ray’s head rolled back to you while his hands fell to your shoulders stilling your motions.

“I have to go soon. There’s no time for this.” He said.

You kissed his clavicle and then you lightly kissed the warm skin of his pectoral. Ray’s body tensed. You began to lick over his stiff nipple with a wide stroke. “There’s always time for love,” you said softly. “You don’t have to go…” you said between licks.

You felt his hips grind up into you, the length of him brushes against your wet folds. The tip of his cock throbbed, the dull wanting aches shot up his shaft. If your body was the heavenly release, then the lead up was purgatory. He was standing at the pearly gates awaiting entry but there was no time to confess his sins.

It was too late. There was never enough time.

You pulled away from him. The setting gold sun blasted through the window and caught the ebony and crimson of your curls. Horny, ready to fuck as he was he couldn’t help but be reminded him of the little sun catchers on his grandmother’s front porch when he looked up at you. Soft fingers wiped over his cheek as you laid down light feathery kisses along the way.

“Hey, I gotta go.” Ray rasped and planted a kiss on your pouty lips.

Ray rolled you over with a tight grin thinning his lips. Naked, Ray stepped out of bed and began to dress quickly. You curled around a pillow, drawing your legs up close and wrapping your arms into it and wished that it was Ray.

“You don’t have to do this.” You whispered.

Ray glanced back at the bed. You were watching him with those big brown eyes. The sun was soaking into your brown skin and at the same time casting a heavenly halo around your coiled form. He paused, a few seconds considered your words. But it was dumb. Why stop now? You couldn’t understand.

“We don’t have enough. So if I don’t do this you can kiss that car good-bye, those clothes in your closet-“

“Alright.” You cut him off and sat up, your naked breast became exposed but Ray did his best to ignore the flashing extra skin.

“It’ll work out.” He grunted as he hiked his jeans up. His tone is reassuring but leaves little room for that guarantee in you. Crime wasn’t reliable. Sometimes you can get away with it. But most times it can come biting you in the ass again.

When Ray does not come home that night you worry. But it was normal. You always worried too much when he was out on a job. It was the way this worked. 9-to-5’s were not his type. So it was natural for things like this to happen, as thin and uncertain as they were, took time to complete.

But two days later the worry turned to horror.

You tried to make sense of what was happening. Your calls went unanswered, as did your pleas to the accomplices that tossed their burner phones when you came calling.

It wasn’t until the next week when the police crashed into your home. Knock-knock, and then a giant clash of plastic and kevlar and too many masked officers to count that came barreling into your apartment.

They took you in the night. Half-dressed, hair still wrapped and going on little to no sleep they held you in a cold bright cell.

You knew that this was part of the game. If he had ever been caught you swore to God you would never tell. And you didn’t. Even when they threatened to throw the book at you.

And you kept your promise afterward too. After his sentencing you drove one hundred miles to the prison he was housed. You walked in, beaming a comforting smile and holding your head high when you saw him. Being his brave girl. It was the first time to see him in three weeks.

But Ray stared at you from across the sticky metal table in the visitor section. His buzzed hair grown out a bit more, darkness under his eyes to match the plumb colored bruise on his cheek. Little emotion was expressed, he blinked, nodded to your words. Until you finally decided that you too would just sit in silence.

“I don’t want you to come back here.”

Your hands shook but your voice was steady as you softly spoke back. “Why? You can’t think I’m just going to leave you in here…”

“Don’t come back. You’re a loose end.” He clipped back.

“What?”

“You fucking heard me.” Ray’s voice was sharp, commanding.

“So we’re off?”

His voice was still ringing in your ears when he spoke again. “It was never on.” He said flatly.

“I lost my job-“

“Get out.” Ray stood up from the table, hands cuffed in front of his hips and stared down at you from his six-foot five-inch frame. “Don’t come back.”

And after that, you didn’t.

Now

St. Tropez. French Riviera in October. Tourists have all but vanished in the coastal town. You followed Ray’s instructions along the way leading to the sophisticated seaside village. Now you sat in a little bistro near the weekly market. You felt off about it. The Place de Lices buzzed with the hum of people and the smell of sweets, and breads offered there. Your eyes moved the crowds, sometimes lingering for too long on very tall men in hats. You hoped it was him.

You had wished for a week that when you stared at the back of a man more than six feet it was Ray.

And like a kick to the gut you realized that maybe you were wrong about Ray.

Again.

Maybe he had left you once again to figure out what came next.

So you ate a small dinner, drank too much wine and left the bistro heavier than you arrived. You swayed when you walked. Your hair hung in your face, strands of curls stuck to your cheeks, a bit of sweat beaded on your top lip as you struggled to see the path in front of you.

You decided to take the long way back to your little hotel. Might as well take in the sights for what they were. You decided with a hiccup. A dizzy train of thought sped through your mind that perhaps this shit with Ray was off.

Because it was never on, remember? You laughed at yourself as you walked. A tarry, rigid giggle bubbling up from the pit of whirling doubt and moderately priced wine. He had told you that once.

So why were you here?

Your head tilted back, panned your eyes up that darkening French sky as your body became wrapped in the pale yellow glow of lamps along the way. You took the lonely feeling growing in your heart. You could smell the water. The breeze on your skin felt like a comforting kiss from a man you couldn’t wrap your mind around.

And the wine, the damn alcohol was sitting on your stomach. The slosh of it was ignored but you loved the numbing effect inside and out.

You remembered the jail. The day Ray all but said he didn’t want you. There wasn’t much left of that memory. Only the smell of wet dog the jail had cultivated and the icy glare of his eyes when he told you to go.

Now, the only memory that came first when you thought of Ray was him laying on top of you. The two of you wrapped together in an embrace decades in the making that the only sound you could make when you thought of it was a sigh.

The stoic gestures of Ray had always been there, even from the beginning. But this Ray, your Ray, was different now. Somehow more quiet, and more adept at holding in plans meant for the far future that you questioned his actions in the present.

Like now. You hiccup again and then paused along a stone fence. Another wave of the alcohol-induced dizzies you stood there with your face to the sky.

It would have been better to be more on guard.

But you weren’t.

And you were snatched.

Ringing in your ears, a bang from your temple pulled you from a dreamless sleep.

The lack of clothing concerns you but not near enough to truly shock you. It had to be Ray.

You shift around on the soft sheets until you lay flat against the bed. Your head rolled to the left, the right, it looks different than your hotel room. A decent room with sparse decorations, a pile of clothes on one of the chairs in the corner and a lingering smell of men’s cologne.

You think back to the bistro. You were drunk but not wasted.

A shadow. It had been a large shadow from near you along the fence and a prick to your neck had been the last thing you remembered.

The only door creaked, lazily swinging in the southern France breeze drew your eyes back to the right. Along the floor dark leafy shadows swayed over the stone flooring. They seemingly merged into a dark outline against the bright morning sun. It got bigger, swelling in size until the shadow overwhelmed the light.

Around the corner, you could hear heavy footsteps. Ray stepped in with only a pair of cargo shorts and sandals. Water dripped from his nose as his head swept in your direction.

“Good morning,” he said gravelly as he smiled.

“You drugged me.” You croaked and then hold your breath as he began to peel off his soaked shorts.

“Had to—you would fight back.” He chuckled and dropped his box briefs.

Your eyes fell to his cock, limp but quickly gaining girth but you looked back up to him. “Wouldn’t have to fight at all Ray if you would have shown up.”

Ray began to walk toward the bed. Slivers of sun caught the green in his brown eyes as they roamed from the sheet to your bare chest.

“I’m a wanted man.” He pressed his knee into the bed followed by the other. “I had to make sure you weren’t followed.”

You began to gather the sheet up but Ray grabbed it back and pulled hard on it as you scooted back further against the headrest. “You can’t be mad at that.“

Ray tugged again the white sheets slipped from your fingers. And when his lips touched yours any thoughts of the budding animosity was pushed away.

Maybe it wasn’t important. Perhaps now being in his arms was the apology you had been seeking for the last decade that led up to last night.

And when Ray’s tongue licked between your thighs, his thick fingers gripped your silky skin it was a promise. His palms, not as smooth as you remembered, roughly scrapped along your thighs you wondered how long this would last.

Ray lifted his head and stared into your eyes. He rose above you a slight grin plastered on his lips under the slick of you and spit he mumbled: "I’ve missed you.” and then kissed your lips, ducked his tongue inside your mouth.

He was inside you before another kiss. No warning to the power you knew he held there. He pushed harder driving his length deeper. Desperately you clung to him letting him take what was his.

Your Ray missed you.

He was close. His hardening cock, the fevered thrusts. Ray was lost in you.

You missed him too. You watched his hooded eyes stare into your mouth, his eyes fluttered with his final pump filling you with warmth.

You didn’t cum. But you got something else.

You had your Ray.

Ray falls to the sand.

You smiled hard down at him, you don’t suppress the laugh coming up. In a burst of giggles, you sit back down on the lounger holding your chest and stomach.

He had tried to dig a hole. Not just any hole—THE hole. Little did he know that halfway through its construction he would abandon it only to fall into it hours later.

Ray looked up at you from the cool sand.

“I knew that was there.” He grinned and then got to his bare feet.

Amused, your eyes dance from the hole back to his sweaty face. “You’re an idiot.” You said still clutching your chest from the ache.

“I’m your idiot.” said Ray and sat on the lounger with you and pulled you into his arms.

Your head rested on his broad warm chest. The strong flutter of his heartbeat under your ear and an arm stretched across his waist made for a perfect feeling.

You missed him too.

“Only because no one else would put up with your shit.” You chuckled back, settling into his heat.

“No.,” he said, his voice hummed in your ear over the sound of his heart.

“No, what?” you asked, tilted your head up toward him and the fading grin on his lips.

“No, I wouldn’t want anyone else,” said Ray wrapping both of his arms around you encasing you in his protective embrace. “There’s only you.”

He peered down at you over his cheek barely moving his head before he looked back at the white-tipped waves.

“Donnie wants to meet up.” He said softly, almost under his breath as an afterthought.

But you caught it, and the meaning, even if he did not express it. Donnie was the architect of the last job.

You sit up on your palm and look down at Ray. Your dark eyes burning holes into his passive expression only makes you slap at his chest.

“Don’t you have enough?” you asked. "God, I can’t believe this shit.” You sat up fully now and pulled out of his arms. “You have millions, millions! So god damn greedy, Ray. Why?”

“It’s full proof.” He said, still laying on the lounger his fingers crisscrossed over his chest. He didn’t move, barely even opened his lips as he spoke. “I’m not greedy. It’s for us. Imagi-“

“No!” you shouted, paced over the sand as it gritted between your toes. “This is –“ You turned back to him, still unmoving, and shook your finger at him. “This is for you. Always. You do this shit. The world doesn’t owe you, Ray. You can’t just steal what you want as if it doesn’t matter. Do you want them to catch up with you? To us? I can imagine that!”

You dragged yourself, dejectedly, away from Ray on the beach. You felt the sadness, the disrespect rising up from the pit of your stomach. And even when you returned to the room it hadn’t lessened. Instead, your eyes swept around to the messy bed, a pile of Ray’s clothes on the floor, and an empty bottle of wine taking in the mess he had left behind.

He was always leaving shit behind.

Even you.

“You’re right.”

You turned around to find Ray standing there. His expression still passive he stared at you, he ducked his hands into his cargo pockets and waited.

It concerned you he was so easily swayed. That was not the Ray you were used to dealing with. Not the man of the past who would have gleefully left you behind to follow his own path.

“I’m right about what?” you asked, crossed your arms over your chest and studied him.

“About that job. About me…I don’t want to be that anymore.” He said simply and took a long step near you. “You’re enough.”

You were impossible to look away from. Dark coils sweeping over your damp forehead, your brown eyes watching lovingly over the scene, a happy smile pulling your full lips over white teeth.

It was a dream. Ray decided this moment right here superseded all other moments. Not even the wedding, the birth of the second or even the third kid could compare to this moment.

You lifted your skirt, squatted down near the creation one of his sons had constructed. He was smart like you, reckless like his father and Ray stared as your hand moved the little door open and closed on the castle of wood and stone he had created.

The Alps stood, gray rock and snow-capped peaks, in majestic contrast against the vivid green pastors, and the wood homes billowing smoke from their well-worn chimneys.

The oldest and tallest of the bunch ran over pushed on the shoulders of the youngest son playfully. Fighting brothers, but best friends, he teased his younger brother before clapping him on the back.

You stood watching them. Hands on your wide hips you gazed at them tease each other, Ray was sure you were remembering their birth and imagining the kind of men they would grow to be. You loved to talk about it. Sometimes, in the dusk of sleep, you muttered to the air of how much they looked like him.

A girl, the youngest, about five years old bounded down the hill from the house and wrapped her arms around your waist.

Chestnut curls caught the wind, blew around her rounded chubby face as she turned to Ray.

She pushed off from you and ran toward Ray and into his arms where he willfully pulled her on to his lap. Her small hand wrapped around his four fingers, squinting she stared up at Ray stroked his smooth face before pinching his chin.

Ray tickled her, under the arms around the ribs sending her screaming in a fight of giggles back to her mother. Ray’s eyes followed and then landed back on you.

The little nick-name he used seemed fitting more than ever. The white alpine rays of the sun steadily cascaded under the horizon turned orange and yellow. Your skin absorbed the light, shined more beautiful than he had ever seen it. His sunshine.

You were enough.

#Ray Merrimen #Ray Merrimen x Black Reader #Ray Merrimen x Black!Reader

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