rayne ›‹ words

literature and creative sharing (30+♀️)

[blackynsupremacy-deactivated202]

black girls,

write the content you want.

i’m serious.

idc if you think it’s gonna flop.

idc if you think you’re a terrible writer or artist.

idc if you believe that character/celebrity/athlete/whoever likes black girls or not. (who cares what the fandom says anyway!)

idc if you’re the first and only one to start that _____ x black reader tag.

make the content you want to see!

do it for you most importantly! (you will inspire others ofc)

in conclusion, you won’t get it if you won’t make it.

[biteofcherry]

I know Raymond Smith isn't a popular character and he won't have a big audience, but I'm writing the next part of Black Diamond and that story might touch some of the most vulnerable stuff. On par with Dom Steve and Darling 🥺

[storieclouds]

I love this series so far! Please never give up on it. 💜 If there is ever a master list or tag list please add me. 😁

[solarsyrup]

one of my favorite story elements is "character way past their prime can still absolutely wreck you, leaving you to wonder just how powerful they used to be"

[sdwolfpup]

@padlocked-quintus leaving the funniest response in the tags

[hocuschlocus]

i love you fat girls

[luna-azzurra]

Real thing that changed how i write: I started asking "what does this character think is wrong with them" and separately "what is actually wrong with them." Those two things are almost never the same. She thinks she's too much. She's actually terrified of being too little. He thinks he's bad at commitment. He's actually just never met someone he trusted enough. The gap between their diagnosis of themselves and the real thing, that's your character arc right there. you don't have to explain it. just write both.

[hunnamsxual]

Hunnamsexual: a unique (but not rare) sexual orientation in which one's primary sexual attraction is to Charlie Hunnam.

Masterlist:

Chocolate, Champagne, and Oral Fixation

Charlie Hunnam x fem reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Charlie Hunnam Imagines: Sugar (fluff)

Charlie Hunnam Imagines: Spice (smut)

The Gentlemen

Raymond's Pretty Woman

Imagine you're Raymond's favorite hooker.

Sons of Anarchy

Bedtime Story

Jax Teller × fem reader

Jax is suffering from sleep sexsomnia, you're on the receiving end.

Basement Flood

Jax Teller × fem reader

You and Jax have a red-hot hookup in a dirty bar restroom.

Birthday Suit

Jax Teller x fem reader

It's your birthday, and you convince Jax to give you a private striptease!

Sexercise

Jax Teller x fem reader

Sequel to Birthday Suit. Jax just gave you the hottest striptease ever, and now he wants something naughty in return.

[bellaxgiornata]

Jax Teller Headcanons & Drabbles Masterlist A collection of all my various Jax headcanons.

Jax-Pocalypse 2025 Masterlist A Walking Dead/SOA AU 12 Days of Jax-Mas 2025 Masterlist Hope for the Holidays: an angsty Hallmark Christmas/SOA style fic

Jax Teller x fem!Reader Series

You Are My Sunshine [Installment List] Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

Recently released from a stint in Stockton Prison with a few of the Sons, Jax is still struggling with Tara returning to Chicago over a year after he killed Agent Kohn for her. When he returned to Charming, Jax noticed a coffee shop had sprung up across the street from Teller-Morrow Automotive and the clubhouse, oddly finding himself watching the strangely cheerful owner through the windows. One night he feels drawn to step inside, but he's left even more confused when the owner feels like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Jax quickly realizes that the more he visits her shop, the more at peace he finds himself.

Comfortable Here in the Chaos [Series Masterlist]

Not long after you’d taken the position as Teller-Morrow Automotive's office manager, you find yourself in a friends with benefits arrangement with Jax Teller. While the pair of you have plenty of fun, you're entirely unaware of the feelings gradually creeping into your arrangement.

No Chance in Hell [Series Masterlist]

You'd loathed Jax Teller from the first time he'd catcalled you. Unfortunately working at Iron Pulse, the gym located across the street from the Sons of Anarchy's compound, meant run-ins with him were inevitable. After nearly a year of his harassment, you immediately assume the death threats you begin finding are Teller's idea of a prank–until you're forced to stay at the Sons' cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Falling Apart & Torn at the Seams [Installment List] *Completed* warnings/tags: 18+; pregnant!Reader, angst with an eventual happy/hopeful ending, emotional hurt, briefest hint at abortion, pissy Jax, Clay being Clay

Shortly after you started working as the office manager at Teller-Morrow Automotive, Jax and you had become serious–something Gemma and Clay hated. Afraid you'd take Jax from the Sons, they slowly poisoned him against you. But as Clay continues to pull Jax deeper into the club while the rift between both of you grows, you unexpectedly discover you're pregnant. Desperate to keep the secret hidden from everyone–including Gemma and Jax–Clay threatens you and your unborn baby.

Letters from the Outside [Installment List] warnings/tags: 18+; prison!Jax, bit of sunshine/grumpy dynamic, prison pen pals, fluff, angst, mentions of violence, potential smut, canon-divergence, mentions of Reader having a brother, mainly short pieces about Jax and Reader's letter correspondence

When Lowen encourages Jax and the other incarcerated Sons to enroll in Stockton Prison's new program, Wire of Hope, in order to increase their odds of parole, Jax thinks it's absolute bullshit. Hoping to get back home sooner, he signs up anyway. But what he doesn't expect is how quickly he begins to look forward to your letters.

The Way That It Hurts [Chapter List] Warning/tags: 18+; angst, amnesia/memory loss, soft!Jax, hurt/comfort, identity crisis, eventual smut

An accidental run-in at the clubhouse brought you into Jax’s life and turned you into his whole world. Six months into marriage and nothing could tear you both apart–not the club, not his lifestyle, not the weight that sat on his shoulders. But an unfortunate car accident turns everything inside-out when you wake up at St. Thomas with no memory of the man you’re married to, or the last couple years of your life. Determined to stay by your side, Jax struggles to move past your fear of him to help you remember why you’d ever loved him.

All That I Can Give [Installment List] Warnings/tags: 18+; ex-prostitute!Reader (Reader has a slight backstory), mentions of physical/sexual abuse, canon typical violence, smut, angst, hurt/comfort

With Lyla moving over to produce films at Redwoody for the Sons, Nero finds himself in need of someone to run the front of Diosa and to help with the administrative aspect. When a few of the girls recommend you–a blunt, vulgar street girl from Stockton trapped working for a heartless pimp by the name of Hades–Nero can't resist hiring you without consulting Jax first. Though Hades isn't willing to let his Persephone–the prized thoroughbred of his whores–just slip through his grasp. But after Jax meets you, not only is he determined to keep you safe, he’s hell-bent on giving you everything you've never had before.

I Would Never Hurt You [Series Masterlist] Warnings/tags: 18+; past sexual abuse, trauma, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, somewhat nervous!Reader, soft Jax, panic attacks, eventual smut, Reader has a brother (patched Son)

For months after you'd broken up with your ex, you and Jax had been in a flirtationship. Though you'd always kept Jax at a distance because his lifestyle reminded you far too much of your musician ex–and that terrified you. But your trauma and warnings don't stop Jax from desperately wanting to get closer to you.

Not Like Before [Chapter List] Warnings/tags: 18+; nurse!Reader, canon-divergence (no Abel or Thomas), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, girl dad Jax

Jax met you at a bar out near Fresno, California while on a run with the club. Unable to deny the instant attraction, you brought him back to your place for a few hours of the best sex of your life. Almost two months later, you realized you were pregnant with his kid and no way to contact him. Due to your hospital's budget cuts, you end up taking a job at St. Thomas Hospital, bringing both Emilia and yourself to Charming five years later, entirely unaware that the local MC is the one your daughter's father runs–and that out of the hundreds, you were the one he never forgot.

I Can Be Your Home [Installment Masterlist] Warning/tags: 18+; Canon-divergence, canon-typical violence, angst, humor, fake dating, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, magical elements (thanks to the homeless woman), Reader is from a different reality

Death is supposed to be the end–a conclusion. But for some reason, you didn’t stay dead. After a car accident killed you and ended your budding success as a romance author, you wake up in a world that’s supposed to be fiction. Except it’s not, and the violence and danger–along with the far too handsome Jax Teller–are very real. Grieving your previous life and struggling to find a purpose in the new one, you can’t help but wish you’d woken up inside of a romantic comedy instead of the Sons of Anarchy, especially living through multiple romantic tropes with him. But the real Jax Teller isn’t your typical romantic lead, and all you want is to find the strange homeless woman and get some answers.

Until It's Gone [Prequel & Masterlist] Warnings/tags: angst, infidelity, breakup, mentions of abuse/alcoholism, no happy ending

Growing up with an alcoholic, abusive father, the most you'd ever known about love came when you met Jax at sixteen. Despite all the warnings Charming tried to preach about the club, you finally found safety and a home among the Sons. But after your high school graduation when Jax had finally patched into SAMCRO, you were hit with a harsh realization–you were always bound to lose it all.

Take Me to Where Your Heart Is [Series Masterlist] warnings/tags: 18+; bisexual!Reader, canon-typical violence, canon-divergence, sexual content/smut, angst, MC president!Reader, Tara drama 

After the Insurgents MC unanimously vote in a deal with the IRA to help distribute their guns east, your club ends up in a partnership with SAMCRO. You're prepared to deal with their inevitable lack of faith in your leadership as a female and the backlash of a potential turf war with the Hellspawn Outlaws. But you're not prepared for your new partner to stir up things you've never let yourself feel before, or for how much you care when his ex returns to Charming.

I Need You More [Series Masterlist] Warnings/tags: 18+; canon-typical violence, brief depiction of near underage sexual assault, angst, hurt/comfort

Despite being the quiet, studious girl in Jax Teller’s class, you’d had a crush on him since the sixth grade. When he rescues you at seventeen, that only cements your feelings for him–though you’re complete opposites and he’s dating Tara. Eight years later, you return to Charming after your aunt passes, and the once shy, studious girl catches Jax’s attention. But when that attention nearly kills you, Jax can’t help but blame himself.

Steadfast in the Mayhem [Series Masterlist]

You'd always been the one girl Jax wanted beyond just sex. But as the club slowly tears your family apart, you'd learned to keep him at a distance for fear of losing him next. Except you would always be Jax's to love and protect, no matter how hard you pushed him away or how much of a mess you became.

We Almost Had It [Series Masterlist]

Your relationships always seemed doomed to fail, but it wasn't all just because the small town of Charming didn't have much to offer. You just happened to be in love with your best friend.

I'm Down for You [Series Masterlist]

For the few years that you'd been living in Charming, you knew far better than to ever associate with the Sons. They were dangerous and total trouble. But what are you supposed to do when Jax Teller suddenly takes an interest in you?

Want to Know You Better [Installment List] Warnings/tags: 18+; investigative journalist!Reader, bodyguard!Jax, enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, canon divergence, eventual smut, slow burn, angst

For over a year you had been tracking Aleksander Petrova through California–a Russian crime lord known to abduct sex workers for his trafficking ring. Seven months ago, he disappeared from the L.A. area, but a series of missing women in Northern California catches your attention, drawing you to Charming in the hopes of linking enough evidence together to once again get the FBI involved. But when the Sons’ President makes a terrible first impression before inserting himself into your work, your investigation turns into more than you anticipated.

All the Good That's Left [Installment List] Warnings/tags: 18+; ex's to lovers , fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, sexual tension, smut, an Alaskan road trip on Jax's bike

You've spent the past eight years feeling lost ever since you left Charming. When your childhood best friend's wedding pulls you back to the small town for a single weekend, you plan to disappear on a long, solo road trip to Alaska the day after to find yourself. But unexpectedly running into your ex opens old wounds, and when Jax refuses to let you disappear again, he invites himself on your weeks-long trip–but is there anything left to salvage between you both after all this time?

Jax Teller x fem!Reader One Shots

One Night to Self-Destruct Warning/tags: 18+; angst, drunk rough sex, choking & spanking, suicidal!Reader, excessive alcohol use, depression, hopeful ending if you squint??

Losing your job days after receiving an eviction notice was the tipping point. With nothing left, you step into a party at the Sons' clubhouse uninvited hoping for a night that you won't wake up from.

Get Lost Warnings/tags: 18+; angst, drunk!Jax, exes fighting, no happy ending

It's been over two weeks since you broke up with Jax, yet he's made it an irritating habit to call you drunk in the middle of the night.

Better Than Him [Part One] [Part Two] Warnings/tags: 18+; shy Reader, jealous Jax, sexual tension, public sex (in part 2)

Besides the brief sightings of him around Charming, you hadn't seen much of Jax ever since he dropped out of high school–not that he ever noticed you then. But when Sons' business brings him into Charming Public Library on a slow morning, Jax catches you reading smut while you're working. Now he doesn't just notice you, he seems almost jealous of your infatuation with a fictional Scottish Highlander.

Not Goin' Anywhere Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, soft!Jax, discussions about drastic weight loss, sick fic, Reader is depressed

You've lived with an undiagnosed chronic illness for years, one that has only progressively gotten worse as time wore on. When Jax finds you miserable on your couch in the middle of a flare-up, he's determined to comfort and take care of you.

A Day Late Warnings/tags: emotional hurt/comfort, angst & fluff, soft!Jax

You're the girl who uncovered all the softest parts of Jax he never knew existed, the one who put all the broken pieces back together. But when Clay and the club keep him busy and he misses your entire birthday, his plans get ruined and you're left hurt. Though Jax still has a surprise that he's determined to give you.

Wrong Number [1] [2] [3] Warnings/tags: 18+; humor, sexual content/discussions, wrong number, Jax POV

After a night of drinking at the clubhouse, Jax's morning is interrupted by the most entertaining wrong number he's ever received.

Want to Make You Feel Something [1] [2] [3] Warnings/tags: 18+; Reader has an affair, hints at depression, sexual content, hopeful ending

When you married your husband three years ago, you knew that the entire arrangement was superficial. He was a wealthy CEO of a tech company out in San Francisco, and you’d been a waitress just trying to survive until your next paycheck. Living the life of luxury sounded like a fantasy come to life–until you realized just how meaningless your life had become. Now whenever your husband left the country on a business trip, you always left on a little trip of your own–one that led you to a Sons’ party in a small town well past midnight.

A Bit of Relief Warnings/tags: 18+; explicit sexual content, period sex in the shower, newly established relationship

When both of your schedules constantly conflict for two weeks and keep you from each other, Jax doesn't care that you're on your period.

All of You Warnings/tags: 18+; emotional hurt/comfort, love confessions, appreciating Jax's back tattoo, nonsexual showering

Jax has always kept part of himself hidden from you, but when he comes home with the evidence of his evening visible on himself, your reaction surprises him.

Blur the Lines One Last Time Warnings/tags: 18+; cheating, mutual pining, jealous Jax, sexual tension, no happy ending (unless expanded into a mini-series), Reader smokes

For two years you'd been dating Ryan, having been together before he'd prospected for the Sons. After he patched in a few months back, your relationship had taken a backseat to the club. Despite him bringing you to the clubhouse as his old lady, Ryan was always distracted by the guys, the alcohol, and occasionally the girls. But you soon found yourself distracted by Jax, the pair of you secretly flirting behind Ryan's back. Though nothing had ever gone further than that–until one night when it does.

What's Left to Lose [Part One] [Part Two] Warnings/tags: 18+; nurse!Reader, angst with an eventual happy ending, pining, emotional hurt/delayed comfort, Tara is an ass, Reader smokes, Reader has a brother (nameless/description-less to be inclusive as possible)

Ever since your brother patched into SAMCRO's charter and you moved to Charming three years ago, you and Jax grew close. Despite having quietly fallen in love with him, you'd accepted your position as just his best friend–until Tara unexpectedly returns to Charming and rips him straight from you. Now you're left feeling like nothing at all to him.

Home a Little Early Warnings/tags: 18+; sexual discussions, domestic fluff, humor, husband!Jax

Jax comes home early from the clubhouse on your day off work, and after he's already taken full advantage of the brief kid-free afternoon, you tell him about the new robot vacuum you bought.

Worried About You Warnings/tags: soft!Jax, hurt/comfort, migraines

Normally Jax receives texts from you all day long, but for some reason today he hadn't heard a thing.

Hold on a Little Tighter Warnings/tags: 18+; Light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, post-shower naked Jax cuddling (that always needs a warning)

Ever since Opie passed, Jax has been lost. When he returns home late at night, you're the one he needs to help hold him together.

How Much Did You Miss Me? Warnings/tags: 18+; smut, f!masturbation, cocky Jax and his filthy mouth, somewhat rough sex (kinda, not really), porn with minimal plot, unprotected sex

While Jax is on a protection run, you're desperate to ease some tension so you can fall asleep. But when he unexpectedly returns early, he's determined to prove he's better than your toy.

Something Changed Warnings/tags: 18+; smut, soft!Jax, porn with plot, friends with benefits, angst, morning sex, not entirely a happy ending (unless I make a second part...)

Jax had become a close friend of yours over the past few years, and in that time it had become an accepted and unspoken fact that when you both drank together, you'd wind up in bed together. So waking up next to each other some mornings wasn't abnormal–but having sober sex the morning after definitely was.

[tessalibrary]

         🍒⋆⭒˚.⋆jax teller x black fem reader fic rec list ⋆⭒˚.⋆🍒

-if i'm missing any, please leave a comment or send me a message and i'll add your recommendation! this list is ongoing and will be updated regularly. still adding!

last updated: july 18, 2026

headcanons

plus size! hoochie mama/vixen reader by — @jjdaddywrites18 jax teller and vixen!reader by — @dollgems

masterlists

-these m.lists are mainly or completely jax x black fem reader

secretlysamcro m.list by — @secretlysamcro charlie & jax m.list by — @fineanddandy

fics

riding home for christmas by — @berberriescorner for better or worse by — @unicoo

theme creds:

dividers / @anitalenia

header / pngs from pinterest and edited on canva by me

[societyfolklore]

The Price I Pay

Title: The Price I Pay

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Female Reader

Warnings: Flirting, food, mild bratty teasing, domestic tension Words: 298 words A/N: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles. Very excited, been dying to write Ray.. Prompt: June 29th -  “But it’s just the price I pay.”

Ray cooked like he did most things.

Quietly. Precisely. But right now he was just browning butter.

It was annoying, really.

Attractive, obviously.

But annoying.

You sat at his kitchen counter with your chin in your hand, watching him move between stove and bench, sleeves rolled to his forearms, glasses catching the warm light every time he glanced down at the pan.

“It’s just thyme,” he spoke, as if you had asked.

“I didn’t say anything.” You snarked

“You were about to.” He counted

“and here I was about to compliment your humility..”

His mouth twitched. “Fresh thyme makes a difference.”

“Oh, does it?” You scoffed

“It does.”

“And the Maldon salt?” You eyed the jar

“Also makes a difference.”

“And the butter imported from some tiny farm with emotionally fulfilled cows?”

Ray paused with the spoon in his hand.

You smiled sweetly.

He looked at you over the top of his glasses. “Are you finished?”

“Unclear.”

“I’m trying to feed you.”

“You’re trying to seduce me with ingredients.”

“Is it working?” That shut you up for half a second, which was clearly his intention.

The sauce simmered between you, glossy and rich, filling the kitchen with garlic, wine, and something expensive enough that you refused to compliment it on principle.

Ray plated your dinner with calm, infuriating care.

Offering you a bite

Damn him.

Your eyes closed before you could stop them.

When you opened them, he was watching you with the smallest, smug curve of his mouth.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Ray set his palms on the counter and leaned in. “Good ingredients matter.”

“Git.”

“But it’s just the price I pay,” he stated mildly, “for having standards.”

You pointed your fork at him.  “I hate that this is good.”

“Don’t believe you.”

[biteofcherry]

Hi! I just read Rays entry for the Black Diamond series but I can't find a master list. Does one exist? 👀🙏🏾

- @storieclouds

Hi! I'm so happy you like it 🥰

There's no masterlist for now, because I'm lazy and behind on many things, lol 😅 But here's part one that follows the Intro!

[biteofcherry]

Black Diamond - part 1

Dom!Raymond Smith x submissive female reader

summary: Coming to the Black Diamond brought more resentment than thrill recently, but you kept coming back. You kept hoping something would change. This night it finally does. Are you ready for that complete surrender?

warnings: BDSM. Risk aware consensual kink. Safe, sane, consensual. Power exchange. Partial nudity. Touching. Emotional vulnerability. Stern Dom.

word count: 3.1k

Intro

The elegant, dark interior of the Black Diamond club never gave you a sense of comfort, but it provided a thrill that awoke something inside you. Something that stayed timid and withdrawn in the broad daylight. 

It wasn’t about becoming someone else, but rather releasing this mystical creature trapped in the cages of your body. A curious wildling that began forming around your early adulthood, whom you had to suppress and hide to avoid the scathing judgement and mockery. 

It yearned for something more than your friends enjoyed in their relationships. More than you got from yours. It wanted darker things, improper things, a sort of annihilation. Nearly two decades passed before you decided to feed that craving. 

Black Diamond was a safe, private way to do that.

First, you waited on the long list of applications and the verification process. Then, once you got approved, your first steps into the seductive molasses of BDSM were wobbly at best. 

But it was expected, you told yourself. Master Simon assured you of that, as well, serving as a chaperone and guidance through the black marble walls and crystals glittering like diamonds. Astonishing, glamorous background for the most carnal, dirty acts. Some of which terrified, or straight repulsed you; some you yearned after.

With the excitement and hope, however, a gloomier mood started appearing. Not because of the club itself, but because each night you attended, you returned home with a heavy ache in your chest. Sadness. Anger. Disgust with yourself. How you wished that disgust came from experiencing filthy things and battling your appalled sense of propriety! Instead, it was from the growing conviction of being a huge disappointment.

As a new submissive in the club, you drew curious stares at first - which was both overwhelming and pleasant. But it didn’t correlate with active interest. Sure, the first two weekends consisted of a few conversations, as well three invitations to scene. 

Which, in a way, were more than you imagined, then later brought a sense of annoyance and disappointment. As if something was missing and the submissive creature inside you wasn’t satisfied with what you got. 

As weeks passed, the worse it became. Doms didn’t approach you. When you mustered all your shaky courage and tried to initiate an interaction yourself, you were very politely declined. Which was okay, you told yourself. Not every Dom had to be interested in you. With each failed attempt, though, a voice in your head cried louder and louder - No one is interested in you. 

The club organised particular activities that allowed all single submissives and Dominants to participate and find unexpected matches for a scene. Those games terrified you with the unknown - of which Dom might pick you, what thing they would do to you - yet you forced yourself to be a part of it. Again, for that flickering hope of clicking with someone for more than just a single scene after which they’d avoid you like the plague.

Thrill at the prospect of another night at the Black Diamond started diminishing. It still bubbled under your skin when you entered the marble halls and re-dressed in the changing room. However, as hours passed with you sitting in the submissives’ lounge, watching the spectacles around you, with no one approaching you even for a short conversation, the thrill died down.

Instead, that awful dread of going back home unfulfilled and forgotten rose. 

You couldn’t say you didn’t get a single scene, that you didn’t moan in a delirious orgasm, or felt the sting of a palm on your asscheek. But each of these scenes built up to something amazing, only to flatline afterwards. 

The Doms provided aftercare, though it felt like an obligation to be checked off the list rather than a genuine interest in making sure you were alright. No Dom asked you to scene with them for a second time.

So your mind worked overtime, thinking up the reasons for your complete failure. 

That night, despite being convinced it would be another night with you crying yourself to sleep, you walked into the club with the same hope you tried to maintain each time. Even if it faded faster and faster. 

As usual, you greeted other submissives with a smile, politely bowed your head to any Dom passed who glanced your way. You were on your route to the sitting area for submissives when Master Simon appeared in your way. 

“Would you please come with me?” Hazel eyes looked at you with a certain glint. You were unsure if it foreshadowed good, or bad things to come. 

“There’s someone who wants to meet you.” He tossed over his shoulder, already turned forward and walked across the club. 

You padded behind him, heart panging in your chest with a sudden jolt. Someone wanted to meet you?! Was it someone new? Newer than you? Or was it another of Simon’s attempts to arrange a scene for you - an act of pity which made you feel ashamed, yet you still clung to it like a starved orphan ready to eat a burned scrap of bread from the street. 

The man Simon took you to was seated on one of the chaises in the resting area. His pose was relaxed, but in a way a lion might be relaxed in the middle of the road in savannah. Legs slightly spread, back resting fully against the cushions, a tumbler of whiskey in one hand. 

He had blonde hair, with darker streaks here and there, all styled back in a soft swipe. His beard was trimmed. A pair of glasses rested on his nose, behind them striking blue eyes watched your approach. 

Master Simon said your name, pointing at you to stand in front of the man, whom he then introduced:

“Master Raymond.” 

With that, Simon simply turned around and walked away. He was always quite direct, and a man of few words, but he also showed care and attention in small doses. That he didn’t bother to do that meant he was sure you weren’t in any kind of danger. 

Or, at least, not in a bad kind of danger. 

You swallowed nervously, fingers fidgeting at the hem of the silky dress you chose to wear that night (it might as well serve as a nightie). Raymond studied you for a silent moment longer, before he spread his legs wider and tossed one of the cushions on the floor between them.

It took you only a single heartbeat of hesitation before you moved forward and dropped onto your knees. 

When you filled out all the forms and signed the contracts for the club membership, there was a thick file of rules. You always had the right of refusing a scene, not only stopping it if your limits were crossed, but simply not starting one. However, as a submissive in Black Diamond, you were also expected to kneel down for a Dom, if they required it (without any sexual acts following), as well undress on command. You quickly figured out it was to reinforce the thrilling power imbalance between a Dom and a sub. 

“I’m Raymond Smith.” The man introduced himself fully. A name you instantly recognized.

“Hello, Sir.” You forced your hands to rest gracefully on your thighs as you looked up at the owner of the club. The man who decided to accept you. 

“You know who I am,” he wasn’t asking, not really, so you only nodded. “We didn’t get a chance to meet earlier,” Raymond continued, “but I returned to find out what an unusual case you are.” 

There was no jab in his words, yet they strummed a sensitive chord within you. Your own insecurities intoned a chorus of hateful words and promises of exile. 

“Black Diamond exists so people can explore and get a fill of their desires. They get to learn about themselves, find themselves, find others who match their needs. So tell me-” slowly, Raymond leaned forward; blue eyes peeking at you from behind the glasses- “why aren’t you thriving?” 

You could shrink on yourself and say that you don’t know. Maybe even lie that you were most appreciative and happy with what the club provided. 

But Raymond was an experienced Dom, who would see right through poorly veiled bullshit. 

You just had to admit the truth without appearing the most pathetic. 

“I’m grateful for the attention I got so far, Sir,” you replied, measuring your breath to take hold of the shaky emotions that were threatening to resurface. “I guess it’s limited because I’m not what most of the Doms look for. Which is understandable, I’m not a jar of Nutella for everyone to like me,” you added with a fake easy smile. 

Raymond didn’t grin back. 

He didn’t glower, either. Simply watched you with the same patience. 

“Not what most of the Doms look for,” he repeated your words slowly, setting his tumbler onto the side table. “Elaborate, please.”

“Um-” you had to quickly regroup, knowing that if you spilled it all out in one rush, your hurt feelings would seep through your words. 

“I’m not a cute, sweet submissive, who needs protection or saving.” You started in what you hoped was a calm, unbothered tone. “For a lot of men, Dominants especially, being a protector and provider is a kink itself. I don’t stir that for them. I’m too put together and independent.” 

“I’m also not a cheeky brat,” you listed, “I don’t provide challenge, I don’t call out to tame me-”

A gasp interrupted your own words when Raymond’s fingers brushed along your collarbones unexpectedly. 

“Continue.” He ordered, trailing light touch further. 

“I-” your voice wavered slightly as he slipped his fingers beneath the straps of your dress. “I don’t have a knack for niche kinks, which could interest some sadists. And I’m not a bombshell to draw attention just by-”

Raymond pushed the straps of your dress down. Silk slipped down like liquid, exposing your breasts fully. 

With wide eyes, you stared at the Dom, chest rising on a hitched breath. His touch alone interrupted your thought process, but being bared unexpectedly completely scrambled your neatly prepared explanations. 

“Ah.” Raymond made a short, pleased sound. “Found the control switch.” 

He caressed the swell of your breasts with the backs of his curled fingers. Lightly. Yet goosebumps appeared on your forearms and your nipples stiffened into hard points. 

“Here you were,” his voice had a warm timbre, but his piercing gaze was terrifying like a sharp blade about to cut you open- “talking about something sensitive for you, yet you kept yourself all locked.”

Raymond observed you as you talked. Your body didn’t match the heaviness of your words. Dressed in logic, he heard the vulnerability and hurt behind each sentence - each comparison. But you didn’t allow yourself to show that ache beyond relaying it like cold facts. 

Only faint flickers he caught betrayed that the wounds ran deeply, only you didn’t allow them to show. 

Which meant you had connection to your feelings, but chose not to display them. Not to show vulnerability.

And what was true submissiveness, if not a raw exposition of everything. 

“I didn’t-” you started objecting, but Raymond’s hands cupping your breasts short circuited your train of thought. 

“Can’t hold up the walls when I tip your balance?” The corner of his mouth tilted in a smirk.

Your lips parted, to counter his assumption, but the words stuck somewhere on your tongue as he began playing with your boobs. Soft kneading turning into a harsher squeeze. Fingers splayed over the heavy roundness suddenly clenched around your nipple in a stinging pinch. 

The zap of pleasure surged straight to your clit. Your core filled with heat, even as your mind couldn’t comprehend how it can be happening when it’s not even a negotiated scene. 

“You give me a tale of being bland and boring, yet here I am intrigued by a subby who doesn’t fit the mould.” Raymond didn’t shift his gaze from your face as he continued to torment your breasts.

“Some Doms proved to be lazy arseholes, too glutted with well-known dynamics to dust off their skills. They brushed the surface of sexual kink, not really looking at you. Not seeing that you want much more than just intense orgasms. And instead of being angry with it, you lock it all up and convince yourself you don’t have a right to those feelings.”

Tears pooled in your eyes at his words. 

You wanted to hiss that you have all that anger and resentment, but you dealt with them on your own. In the safety of your own bed, where no one saw your tears and mocked you for them. 

You had no trouble sharing your joy with others. Smiling, laughing. You always displayed those. Sadness and anger? Desire and need? Fragility of any kind was supposed to be kept secret. They invited mockery and judgement, chinking at your pride and confidence. Controlling them meant you were closer to being a graceful, admirable woman, not some dramatic sap who grated on a partner’s nerves. 

“You’ve experienced disappointment and rejection here, yet you keep coming back.” Raymond’s touch switched to soothing caress again. 

“I suspect it’s because you don’t want anyone to see how much it hurt you, but I believe it’s also because you still hope someone notices those walls and shatters them down. Your eyes-” his gaze seemed to soften a fraction, and he moved one of his hands to tilt your chin up.

“So much fear and hope. Even now, when you hate me for dissecting you.”

“Please, Sir,” your voice was barely above a whisper. 

If you tried to speak up, you’d undoubtedly let out a sob. Beneath your eyelids tears still stung, but a deeply ingrained habit stopped them from falling. That voice in your head screeched about how pathetic Raymond would find you, if you cried. 

“You won’t find mercy with me.” He shook his head slowly. “But you can find what you’ve been craving. The sexual side and everything beneath.” 

Though you didn’t admit it, a part of you was also relieved when your nights at the Black Diamond turned to fiasco - because you remained protected within your safe bubble. No Dom brought you to a state that would cause the shell to crack. Which, in turn, meant you didn’t have to risk being hurt emotionally. 

It was your first interaction with Master Raymond and he was already barging in, unapologetically determined to set your safe space on fire. 

It was fucking terrifying. 

“You’ll have to be very brave,” he gripped your chin tighter, the other hand pinching your nipple again - the jolt of sexual pain once again messing with your head. Messing with your honed skills in putting up walls quickly. 

“You’re all buttoned up, but I’m going to cut off and rip all of those buttons and get you bare for me. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Every. Single. Damn. Time.” 

Maybe if he didn’t have you half naked; maybe if he didn’t hold your chin in an unyielding grip, forcing you to look him in the eye; maybe if he didn’t exude dominance in levels unparalleled to what you’ve been fantasising about; maybe if he didn’t cut you open with perceptive assessment… 

maybe then you would be able to calmly refuse his claim, maintaining a stubborn stance that you only wanted to be sexually satisfied. 

“Do you want that, Button?” Raymond leaned closer, scent of warmed spices and wood of his cologne were like a brush of soft blanket when you were held in an iron grip. “Or do you want to return to your weekly visits that end with nothing but hours on a sofa, keeping yourself away from hurt, but also away from connection?” 

A single tear slipped onto your eyelashes. You held back the rest. 

You tethered between the ache in your chest and the heat still licking between your thighs. 

Often, when emotions were close to the surface, your desire disappeared completely. Somehow, Raymond brought out the raw feelings, yet still kept your body buzzing with arousal. For the first time, one didn’t extinguish the other.

When you began your learning journey with BDSM, you read a lot upon the deep, intimate connection between physicality of it and the psychological and emotional sides. You tended to think of it as the emotional aspect of aftercare after a rough sexual act. You didn’t stop to think how the sex part could influence the process of feeling itself - intensify it, or soothe it. 

“I want to try.” You murmured. 

Raymond didn’t smile with triumph. He didn’t move away. He held you still, tugging on your nipple as he swiped his thumb up your chin and toward your bottom lip. 

“That’s very brave of you.” He praised. “Thank you for not giving up, and for trusting me with yourself.” 

Only then did he gently release you. He gave your cheek a tender caress, before reaching down to pull your dress up into place. Your abused nipples were straining against the silky fabric. 

“I meant what I said about not showing mercy, but I will never cross any boundary you set in the hard limits. I’ll push you, Button. Hard. But I promise to never give you what you can’t take.” 

“Instead, you’ll prove that I can and will take it?” You sighed, giving him a half-defeated, half-unamused look. 

Raymond smiled at that. A sinful gleam that heralded serious trouble for you. 

He leaned back and reached for the unfinished drink. He didn’t allow you to get up yet, so you remained on your knees. Your breasts were throbbing. Between your thighs, clit pulsed in demand for more. Your heart seemed to be bleeding open, yet it didn’t hurt as you might’ve expected. With the pleasure thrumming in your veins and the prospect of a Dom who - at least for now - wouldn’t drop you, the strewn feelings didn’t appear so awful. 

“Come tomorrow.” Raymond ordered. “Wear your highest heels. And nothing else.”

Heat immediately burst through your whole body.

“Nothing else?” You repeated, voice slightly stuttering.

“Once you’re in the club’s changing room, lose all your clothes. Then walk in wearing only high heels. Don’t stop to talk to anyone, you come straight to me.”

Each night you came to the Black Diamond meant being barely dressed and a high risk of ending up completely naked, but it was vastly different from walking inside already fully on display. Having to walk across the marble floors naked, with the sound of heels clicking against the polished stone, would draw all the attention to you. 

“Yes, Sir,” you gulped nervously.

[biteofcherry]

Black Diamond - Intro

Raymond Smith x female reader; Dom!Raymond Smith x submissive female reader

summary: Raymond runs a an exclusive BDSM club, aside from certain other business. He cares deeply and firmly about the proper treatment of club's members and the rules. When you don't get what you need, he takes it into his hands to provide.

warnings: None in this chapter. BDSM. Risk aware consensual kink. Power exchange. D/s dynamics. Stern type of Dom. Each part of the story will get its own warnings.

word count: 1.2k

Author's Note: This is merely an intro to an expanded universe of the Ruby Garden. Raymond runs Black Diamond in England. He first co-owned it with Ari. For a change, the intro is all Raymond's pov, but future parts will be the typical Reader focused.

There's also guest appearance of another staple Dom at the Black Diamond - Simon "Ghost" Riley 🤭

Though Raymond valued the peace of his actual home, stepping through the ornate gates of the Black Diamond estate brought a similar sense of coming home. 

The faint scent of leather, warm resins and cardamom that was a fragrance customized for the club and used in small amounts to entice rather than overwhelm. Surfaces were polished to perfection, allowing a near mirror reflection in the black marble and black glass. The same luxurious, dark aesthetic sprawled further into the club, with only the shades of members’ clothes bringing a splash of colour. 

Raymond’s office was also dark, but less glamorous and more old fashioned with the oak wood, deep green suede of the armchairs, and rusty gold ornaments.

He didn’t expect Simon to change anything while he was gone, but it surprised him how not a single note of his trusted stand-in and friend’s persona could be felt in the office. 

Simon was sitting behind the desk when Raymond entered. As usual, in all black: black t-shirt with sleeves stretched around his bulging biceps (which gave many submissives wet dreams), black cargo pants, heavy boots. And the skull-printed balaclava mask.

Simon might have been officially out of the military, but Raymond knew his team worked black ops still. It gave him much needed secrecy, while also adding to his brutal aura in the club. 

“The place wasn’t blown up and Dicky Ricky’s body isn’t crucified at the gates,” Raymond gave a short round of slow claps. “Seems you weren’t as bad at minding the club as you threatened when I asked you to do it.”

“It was no fun. Everyone was scared and behaved themselves.” Simon shrugged, standing up.

Though Raymond didn’t ask him to, he moved out of the boss’ chair and took a seat in one of the armchairs on the opposite side of the desk. 

“Which is also ridiculous-” he stretched his legs out, hooking one ankle over the other- “You’re more dangerous than I am.”

“Our appearances serve the both of us, just in different capacities.” Raymond said, taking his place. It felt almost as good as sinking into his favorite wing chair at home.

Spending the last four months abroad, dealing with sensitive business and securing particular alliances, wasn’t all that bad. Food in some places was divine; Americans really knew how to properly make a steak. The thrill of balancing threats and diplomacy rejuvenated his bones. And some conversations were truly pleasant to have.

Like meeting with an old friend and former co-owner of the Black Diamond, Ari Levinson.

“Not that you ever needed additional oil to your fuckin’ Greek god glow, but what creamy subby sucked you this mornin’ that you’re relaxed like a trooper post a first fuck after years in the trenches?” Raymond snorted, glancing at Ari over the rim of his glass. 

Ari laughed, that easy, booming laughter of his that dropped panties and somehow made other men feel like grinning for no damn reason. 

“My sub.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, very pleased with himself for that revelation.

Raymond paused before taking another sip of whiskey. He studied Levinson for a second then shook his head. 

“Levinson settled down with some good girl, huh?” Raymond smiled knowingly.

Ari wasn’t against relationships. He was far from a cynic who didn’t believe in love. But his charming, playful demeanor veiled a deep intensity of a merciless Dominant. Not many submissives could handle that beyond two consecutive scenes. 

“Who said she’s a good girl?” Ari grinned, his eyes twinkling with delight.

Raymond burst out laughing at that.

“You got yourself a brat!” 

“The brattiest of them all,” Ari’s smile didn’t cease, instead turning into unveiled smugness. 

Figures that the submissive, who not only could survive Ari’s type of fun and punishments, but also provoked him to go hard on her, would be the one to catch his interest permanently. 

Raymond himself didn’t allow bratting in scenes with him. He dealt with brats in the club, if it was needed, catering to their need of being tamed. However, he himself held harsh discipline. Without violence, too. There were elegant methods to teach a submissive to follow rules and scrape their throat from begging for mercy.

“Any issues?” Raymond’s gaze slid from Simon’s covered face to the single file on the desk, then back to the man again. 

“No issues. No problems. A riddle.” Simon put his hands behind his head and lounged.

“A riddle?” Raymond arched a single brow, not impressed by his friend’s apparently happy mood now that he could push whatever dire situation on him. 

Simon recited a name. Your name. 

“A newbie submissive. You approved of her membership right before leaving.” He explained. “A good girl. Quite shy and not much confident at first, but bravely participated in anything I directed her to do. It’s clear she approaches every game at the club with fear, but she doesn’t back out. She’s determined.”

“What’s the riddle then?” Raymond opened the file and flipped through the first few pages with basic data and contracts you signed. 

“Lack of response from the Doms.”

At Simon’s words, Raymond’s gaze flew up in surprise. 

Usually, anyone fresh caused ripples through the club. Like a new, shiny toy the others could play with. Of course, it all depended on the person and their energy. Not every dominant had to be interested in a new submissive. Just like a submissive wouldn’t be interested in all the Doms. 

“She doesn’t draw interest. When she approaches a Dom herself, which we’ve been practicing a few times, she gets politely declined. Or, on occasions, politely welcomed, but the scene lacks what she needs.”

“And she’s fucking smart.” Simon continued, his tone sharpening with offence on your behalf.” Smart enough to know that when I order her into a scene with someone, it’s because I organized it, not because someone asked for her. Her pride hurts, but she agrees anyway.”

“She’s not a brat.” Raymond tapped a page with the list of your kinks. “Why don’t they want her?”

Simon sighed and changed his position. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and leveling Raymond with a look.

“One, I think quite a few of our Doms need to be put in BDSM summer school to be reminded that a scene works for both parties, not just to get their own kicks. Two, she’s physically responsive, but her emotional walls need scaling. None of the fuckers put any effort in that. Not even to break her shell with a proper spanking, so she could get some emotional release.” 

“So she’s a little icy and instead of melting her, they crush her to refill their own glass.” Raymond’s jaw tightened, the blue of his eyes turning colder. 

His gaze scanned your lists - kinks, soft limits, hard limits. Without taking his eyes off the files, he grunted at Simon:

“Be a good lad and share with the class what’s been bouncing in that skull of yours when it comes to solving this riddle.”

“Well-” Simon’s face was mostly covered, but even without seeing it, Raymond knew the fucker was smirking.

“-since she hasn’t met you, with you being gone and all, you paying her some attention would be genuine. Besides, those lazy plonkers would definitely start noticing her then.”

[storieclouds]

OMGOMGOMG I did not know how badly I needed this until I read it! 🔥🙌🏾 I'm so excited for more and I definitely want to read both character's lists of limits 👀 I can't wait to read more.

[teh-nos]

oh no my pornography is turning into an angst-filled character study

[renee561]

Oh no my angst-filled character study is turning into pornography

[evilphrog]

[allpiesforourown]

[writing-prompt-s]

“Thank you for calling the Intergalatic Emergency hotline. Unfortunately, our tracer shows your location is in Florida, Earth, where we have no jurisdiction. Please solve any problem with large rocks and fire. Good luck!”

[catchymemes]

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

I just think chubby women deserve a gangbang with a bunch of people that are hopelessly in love with her

[writersisland]

Commonly Confused Words (4)

phased vs. fazed phased is typically followed by in or out, used to mean when something is introduced or being stopped slowly: “The company has slowly been phasing in the new software.” fazed refers to the state of being bothered by something; usually used in its negative form: “She remained unfazed.”

discrete vs. discreet discrete is usually used in a mathematical context and means to separate: “It is an ongoing process rather than a discrete event.” discreet means something inconspicuous or subtle: “I want this handled discreetly.”

ascent vs. assent ascent refers to climbing something: “She begun the ascent at dawn.” assent is a formal way to refer to agreeing: “The consumer needs to assent to the privacy agreement.”

its vs it’s its is the possessive form of the pronoun it: “The dog laid on its back.” it’s = it + is/was: “It’s not possible!”

More Commonly Confused Words