It's family game night. The 118 firefighters, plus dispatchers Maddie and May, are at the house that should have been Bobby and Athena's together. Now it was just Buck's. And Athena? She was suspiciously absent. The room is filled with loud cheer, animosity a thing of the past when there's popcorn able to be thrown.
The Jenga is set up and it's May's turn to play.
She rolls her shoulders, preparing. May blushes as she feels that Ravi's got his eyes on her. "Stop staring at me to distract me!" She insists, her brown eyes flashing over at him.
"Oh I assure you," Ravi states so smoothly that May thinks she might actually have to die now. "I'm not staring at you to distract you. There are other reasons one would stare at someone as beautiful as you, May Grant-Nash."
Then the landlord slash firefighter has the audacity to wink at her! She can feel herself redden, blush down to her toes, so she closes her eyes and prays for strength. The name change had gone through post-mortem. Bobby himself had never gotten the chance to call her a Grant-Nash. But he had signed the papers to make it happen before he died — something May was still thankful for today.
The room had gotten quiet.
Too quiet.
May opened her eyes, only to see literally everyone present (excepting only Ravi, Chris and Denny) staring at her with varous stages of "are you gonna do anything about that?" written all over their faces. (Denny and Chris probably would have been staring too, if they weren't playing video games.)
Ravi was looking directly at her.
Only his face wasn't mischievous. It wasn't playful. The look on his face said… everything he was afraid to say. The small smile, the twinkle in his eyes. And yet somehow, without a word being spoken, May understood. She knew exactly what he wanted to say.
The room seems to hold its breath as she leans forward. "I'm still gonna destroy you at Jenga, Ravi Panikkar." Her voice is a sultry threat. One that should come with warning signs, blaring sirens of its own.
Ray always talks about how he wants to take naps with you. To forget about all about his work and just fall asleep while you’re in his arms. Yet anytime you suggest it, he always says “he must keep working” and that “he can’t stop”. That there’s “no time for breaks.”
Until one day he finally agrees to take a nap with you. You get all excited about it because you’re glad that he’s finally gonna take a break and sleep. Ray seems excited too but he’s nervous. He’s never had a nap with anyone before, not to mention he rarely even sleeps. Millions of thoughts are running through his head. He doesn’t want to mess anything up.
You both go to lay down and at first there’s a little distance but, you decide to close the gap and try to lay your head on his chest. At first you can tell that he’s tense and doesn’t know what to do. He just kinda lies there like a brick wall but he soon loses the tension. He then decides to wrap his arms around you and play with your hair. He seems very happy. You guys just lay there in comfortable silence enjoying each other’s company. Right before you fall asleep ray start humming to you. His soothing voice puts you straight to sleep. Ray soon falls asleep after you.
In the end ray is the one waking you up. Saying how “he needs to get back to work” and that “he’s sorry that he has to leave you.” You tell him that it’s completely fine and that you understand but if he can stay just a little longer. He doesn’t know how to say no to you and gives in. So you guys get to enjoy just a few more minutes of complete bliss.
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Summary: Raymond has to deal with the aftermath and does his best not to lose it again.
Pairing: Raymond (Charlie Hunnam - The Gentlemen, 2020) x Reader
Warnings: language; mentions of violence; mentions and descriptions of blood & bruises and the likes; alcohol consumption; drug consumption
A/N: hello my Ray darlings, I’ve neglected you enough! i know it’s a bit on the short side, but i felt it ended where it should have; part 6 will be the last part, so until then...please enjoy!
There is a small lamp on one of the nightstands that’s doing its best to throw a dim warm light in the dark room. It only reaches a few long strands of hair in the middle of the bed, away from the body that’s curled up in on itself, taking as little space as possible. She looks shrunken, smaller, dimmed down like the last sliver of a setting sun, and the occasional shiver is sometimes accompanied by a heartbreaking whimper.
Raymond is sitting at the bottom of the bed, a hand placed on her feet, watching her breathe under the blankets. He’s been promising himself he’ll go back down in a minute for an hour now, even though the sleeping pills have long since kicked in. He doesn’t want to let her out of his sight, but he knows he’ll eventually have to face the aftermath.
The images of her tightly bound and bloody keep flashing in his mind, and he does his best to keep his rage in check. The rampage he went on has left him drenched in blood, sweat and grime, but he’s not yet been feeling appeased.
He supposes he can let her rest, now that the Oxford house is crawling with nearly every single one of their employees and a vast range of their buddies; even if it weren’t, he’s made sure to be at an arm’s distance from a gun at all times. So he strokes her hair a few times, kisses her forehead – careful not to leave any more blood on her skin, and with a heavy sigh, gets out of the room and closes the door again.
Bunny is sitting in a chair in the corner of the hallway, a grim expression on his own face. He’s lost his jacket sometime during the altercation, and the visible gun tucked in the shoulder holster is an open reminder that Pearson’s men are not playing at the moment. When he sees Raymond, he does nothing more than nod and move his chair closer to the door. He doesn’t have to be told that no one is to enter the room beside Raymond, Mickey or Rosalind. He just prays Y/N will feel better when she wakes up, and hopefully Raymond will have taken a shower by then, because that man is unrecognisable.
Downstairs, Raymond sits down heavily in an armchair. Someone hands him a tumbler of whiskey and there’s a plate of Jaffa cakes on the table in front of him. He stares at the round biscuits, transfixed in another time, wondering how long they’ve been sitting there. Behind him, Rosalind gives someone directions to make tea, before she places a hand on his shoulder and with the other gives him a joint. He takes it out of inertia, but doesn’t light it, suddenly feeling all the adrenaline wearing off, and exhaustion seeping in like a dam breaking loose.
He vaguely registers Mickey taking a seat next to him, already halfway through a blunt of his own, an empty glass on the floor by his foot. He’s just as bloody and dirty, hair mated to one side with sweat, shirt untucked and torn in places. There’s a cut just below his left eyebrow, that might leave a scar, a bruise starting to turn purple on the other side. Raymond supposes he’s not painting a prettier picture.
“You good?” Mickey asks.
Raymond takes a deep breath and drowns the whiskey with a hiss. He lights up his joint and nods. He’s trying to steel himself for the conversation that’s coming, although ironing out the details of what the next steps should be is the last thing he wants to do. He just wants to curl into bed next to Y/N and hold her until the end of time, because he’d be damned if he’ll ever let her go again. Everyone else can go to fucking hell.
*
Three hours later, when the house is starting to quiet down, Raymond finally manages to slip back up. He tells Bunny to go home and get some rest, and silently enters the room. The lamp is still on, but a creaky board in the floor makes Y/N slowly turn her head towards him. They look at each other for a few seconds, and Raymond can see the tear streaks on her sunken cheeks, even more prominent now. He’s not one to show emotion easily, but she can easily read exactly what is going through his head.
“I want to take a shower.” She whispers before he can say anything.
“There are clean towels in the bathroom.” He nods. “I’ll wait for you here.”
“No.” She says, and this hurts Raymond more than all the times he’s been shot.
He’s about to get out of the room again, intent on taking Bunny’s place on the chair and wait for her, however much would be necessary. But Y/N calls his name, a whisper that holds a shadow of the exasperation she’d show him when he’d act dense, and looks at her again.
“I need you to stay with me.” She explains. “And I think you also need a shower.”
At her pointed finger, he looks down at the tattered suit, destroyed beyond hope. He’s past caring, but he’s grateful Rosalind had the mind to send for a change of clothes for both of them. He takes a few steps forward, keeping his eyes on Y/N, careful not to make any sudden movements. He doesn’t think he can take any more pain right this second, so seeing her cower in front of him again is out of the question.
She follows his movements and finally takes off the blankets when he offers her a hand to stand up. With an arm draped over her shoulder, Raymond helps her into the bathroom, where he has to take in a deep breath before looking at her in the sharp lighting. Her hair is tangled, and there’s dried blood in it, her bottom lip is broken and there’s a shallow cut following her jawline, ending in a yellow bruise on her right cheekbone. Rosalind’s done everything she could with a wet towel, but with Y/N refusing to take her clothes off, no one has yet seen the extent of her bruises.
Raymond raises his hands, whispering soft words, cotton candy sweet nothings, reassurances that he needs just as much as she does, as his fingers grasp the hem of her jumper, once beige when she left home an eternity ago. He has to clench his jaw when he tosses it off, and the rage comes back once he sees the purple bruises on her ribs, the scarlet cuts on her collarbones. Y/N hisses off his attempts at talking, and keeps her eyes downcast, refusing to see the pity in his. She works the buttons of his shirt until that too is thrown to the pile, and her cold fingers trace the bruises left by the bullets that had thankfully been stopped by the vest.
Her hands find his shoulders for balance then, silently allowing him to peel off her cashmere pants. He murmurs a little prayer of gratitude that her skin is still as flawless, her legs still as smooth and heavenly, devoid of any mistreatment. Raymond has to take a moment to breathe, kneeling in front of her, forehead on her knees, palms on her ankles. Her fingers move to his head, slowly dragging her nails through his hair. He came to love her doing that, always bringing him a sense of peace and tranquillity that he’s never experienced before. Raymond looks up at her, tears in his eyes while she’s forcing herself to control her own.
“I was so scared.” He whispers. “I was so scared to lose you.”
“It’s alright. You found me.” She says, hand cupping his cheek, and Raymond leans into it. “I knew you would.”
Y/N helps Raymond back up a few minutes later, when she starts shivering in the cold air. They take off their remaining clothes, in a silence that is only filled with grunts and whispers of reassurance. He needs to keep his eyes on her at all times, he finds, an urgency that has nothing to do with lust, as it did whenever she’d undress, but entirely fuelled by the deep dread that still runs through his veins.
Stepping into the shower, she turns on the hot water and stands under it for a few seconds, while Raymond keeps watching her. An extended hand, blindly looking for him, demanding him to join her and then he’s engulfed by the steam and the spray that’s coming off of her. There’s blood mixing with the water, changing the tiles to a pale scarlet. Y/N refuses to look at her feet, and when she opens her eyes, there he is. The only person that she needs.
It takes them a long time to clean themselves, partially because they are both hurt, but mostly because Y/N would stop to grab at him and beg him to hold her. He’d comply every time, each time stroking her hair or drawing soft patterns on her back. She starts crying at one point, a moment that Raymond will forever have ingrained in his brain.
“I’m sorry.” She keeps whispering, wracked by heart wrenching sobs that reverberate through her entire body.
“It’s ok, baby.” Raymond responds, still stroking her hair. “It’s alright, my love. It’s not your fault. You’re here, you’re ok. You’re safe now. You’re with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again, love.”
Y/N quietens down eventually, but Ray is the one who needs to hold her now.
“I love you.” He whispers.
She whimpers again, nails clawing at his back. Her head turns into the crook of his shoulder, his hands wrap tighter around her body. There is no more blood at their feet, and clear water is flowing off of their skin. It’s done, and she’s here, back where she belongs; so he kisses the top of her head, just to remind her once more that she’s safe, and he’s never letting go.
hi babes! this took an interesting turn so imma give a warning: sexual themes!
38. If you move from that spot, so help me, I will tie you down.
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Y/N is restless – which to be completely honest, that’s none other than Ray’s problem. He’s promised her they’ll go out for dinner tonight, right after he’s done with business for the day. It’s been an hour already, and he still has three more calls to make and a check in with Mickey, but Y/N’s already moved from the couch (where she’s been laying with her feet propped in his lap), then offered him some quiet when she went upstairs to change and put make up on, came back (looking like a moonlit dream) and twirled around in her new dress through the entire kitchen, until she’s poured herself a glass of champagne and settled on the armchair next to him.
Ray doesn’t want to snap at her, yet he’s tracing a very important deal and all the fussing around is distracting him too much for his liking. He’s also extremely aware that she’s wearing those bloody stockings that he likes so much – the black ones that end in red lace, just a palm above her knee. So when he’s just about to pick up his phone to call the first contact point, he can see Y/N straightening in the armchair. She’s eyeing the mahogany box above the mantel, where his best stash is hidden, and he already knows that there’s no way he could put up with her if she dives into it.
“If you move from that spot, so help me, I will tie you down.” He growls.
Startled, she turns to him, but her confusion is quickly replaced by a wide grin. She taps the flute with one finger and one of her legs slowly rises up, until it rests on his thigh. Her dress rides up, but not enough to confirm whether her knickers are also red lace – although Ray knows her too well to wonder. His hand grabs her calf, fingers absently stroking the nylon and that’s all it takes to make her purr.
Placing the glass on the table, Y/N stands up and slowly straddles Ray, legs by each side of him, giving him time to entirely process exactly what she’s doing. Her mouth lingers on his collarbones, her fingers running through the sandy strands, until she cups his jaw with one of her hands, forcing him to look right into her eyes.
“Is that what you want to do to me, love? You wanna tie me down?”
Ray smirks and with his own hand to the back of her head, a fist full of her hair, he crushes his lips to hers. The moan she lets out is bloody fantastic, and he supposes it’s time to show her he always keeps his word. His free hand travels up one of her legs, up on her thigh, past the lace, and fuck, she’s wearing a suspender belt as well.
