#suburban gothic fanfic

[tjwritesfanfics]

Universe Nine *Suburban Gothic*

Pairing: Raymond Wadsworth/Reader

Summary: You are getting tired of your no rent paying roommate, Harold the ghost, so you seek the help of the supernatural investigator in town. You just didn't know it was your childhood crush.

Rating: None really. Curse words and talks of ghosts

Words: 1347 (Woah this got REALLY away from me)

Every Universe Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You had always dreamed of leaving your hometown, but like most of the people you went to high school with it didn’t happen. You were just lucky enough to not be living with your parents.

Unluckily for you, your apartment was haunted. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise to you considering when you moved in there was a blood stain in your bedroom carpet. To most that would be a sign to get out of there, but when you work shit hours for shitter pay, you take what you can get.

Besides haunted or not, you weren’t afraid of no ghost.

Honestly Harold was more a nuisance than he was scary or violent. Spying on you in the shower, moving your alcohol around, somehow drinking all of your milk, and his love for playing classical music very loudly on your stereo at 3 am.

The final straw was when you had your one night stand over, Harold scared him right out the door.

Fucking pussy.

On your next drive into town, you decided it was time to boot him out. Inside of the supernatural investigator building, you were shocked to see how white and clean it was. It was almost blinding you.

“Sign in and I’ll be with you in a second.”

“Holy shit… Becca Thompson.”

Becca looked up from her papers with a bored look that quickly vanished when she saw you. You and Becca used to be really good friends in highschool, but once you graduated life got in the way and you drifted apart. Honestly you thought she was one of the lucky ones that made it out.

She smirked, standing and rounding the receptionist desk. “Y/n L/n as I live and breathe. What are you doing here bitch? I thought you left town and weren't coming back.”

“More like moved into a hell hole and working the night shift at the diner. What the fuck are you doing here?”

You hugged her, always being one of the only ones Becca allowed to touch her, before letting her go to take a good look at your old friend.

“Worked at the bar before Raymond opened this shit shop.” Becca gestured around her, though you knew she didn’t believe the place was bad. You had actually heard about it doing good business.

The sound of Raymond stopped you in your tracks though. “Raymond? As in Raymond Wadsworth from high school?”

Becca opened her mouth to answer, but the sound of a clipboard falling to the floor filled the air first. You turned to see the source and standing there was a seriously attractive guy. Tall with short curly hair, he wore a white button up with a cute blue ascot wrapped around his neck, making you think of other things you want to wrap around his neck, and a pair of tight black pants.

Your eyes roamed down and back up his form, eyes eventually landing on his which were wide and full of surprise.

“Y/n..”

You continued to stare into his deep brown eyes, the thin timid boy before you still reminding you of the sweet timid boy from school. “Raymond Wadswroth. You look good, RayBand.”

“RayBand?” Becca chuckled lightly, knowing eyes looking from Raymond to you. “What’s that about?”

“A nickname she gave me in highschool. What are you doing here?”

You shrug as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which to you it was. Why else come to a Supernatural investigator? “Well I’ve got a little roommate that is annoying the hell out of me and since they don’t pay me any kind of rent, I need them taken care of.”

While you thought Raymond would understand, the confused look on his face told you otherwise. Becca on the other hand sounded more than excited to help you.

“Alright! I’ll go get my crowbar!” “But we don’t take care of the living.”

Becca looked at Raymond, trying to hush him up, while he looked at her like she had two heads.

You laugh at the two of them. Honestly a bit jealous of their closeness. You had a major crush on Raymond in school. He was a sweetie who was into the paranormal and weird shit like you were. It didn’t matter to you if he was chubby. It was his personality that you fell for. But now you can see that Becca got to him first.

“Well considering this roommate isn’t of the living variety, I came to the right place.”

Becca huffed and pouted, making her way back to her desk. Raymond just shook his head and led you back towards his office, closing the door then the window that connected to the front room. He motioned you to sit in one of the chairs before taking his own behind his desk.

“So it looks like you did something with your skills, RayBand.”

Raymond pressed his lips into a fine line and subtly nodded his head. It was so weird seeing you after all these years. He wanted to reach out and find you so many times, but he didn’t know if you had left town or even wanted to see him. Didn’t stop him from thinking about you though.

“Yeah after business school didn’t work out I thought ‘hey why not!’”

“I’m glad. When I heard you left town and your mom said you were in business school, I just couldn’t believe it. It didn’t seem like you.”

“Well dad threatened to disown me.”

You scoffed at the thought of Raymond’s dad. If you thought Harold was sleazy, Donald was worse. “I would have taken it. Fuck him.”

After another thirty minutes of catching up and talking with Raymond, the two of you moved on to trying to get rid of this ghost in your apartment. You took him over there and explained all about what you knew about Howard and everything he was doing.

“And when I brought over the guy from the gym, Harold scared him off! I am getting tired of him in my place.”

Raymond shuffled his feet a little outside your apartment door, his brows pulled together. Even though it had been a while since you last saw Raymond you still knew a few of his quirks. He was thinking pretty hard, you swore you saw steam.

“Alright,” You place your hands on your hips, eyeing him, “what’s up?”

Raymond looked everywhere but at you, trying so hard to avoid his feelings and your question. He was here to put an end to your ghost so you could continue seeing people that weren't him and even after all this time that still put a sour taste in his mouth and an ache in his heart.

“Raymond?” You tried again, but softer this time.

“I it’s nothing. I just hope that I can help so that you can go back to seeing people.”

A moment of silence held before the lightbulb went off. Oh, poor sweet Raymond Wadsworth was a little jealous. But then why would he be? He had Becca.

“It would be nice, yeah.” You tried to sound as sure as you could. “When I finally do meet a nice guy, you me and Becca should go on a double date.” Though that would be the worst thing ever.

Raymond finally looked at you, confusion etching even more into his face. “Becca? What does she have to do with dating?”

You scoff, a sad smile on your face. “Come on RayBand. You and Becca are dating, you can tell me. I’m so glad to see you happy!”

“Becca and I aren’t dating. Well not anymore really. We tried that when I first moved back, but it didn’t really work out. We are better as really good friends.”

“Oh.” You tried not to sound too hopeful, fishing out your keys to your apartment, “Then are you seeing anyone?”

Raymond shook his head no, his curls falling into his eyes before he brushed them back.

“Cool.” Was all you could say, but the wide grin on your face told him that you were happy he wasn’t seeing anyone.

Maybe after ridding you of this ghost, Raymond could finally ask you out on a proper date.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[tjwritesfanfics]

This hurt my heart, but it was also so sweet at the same time

Patience (Raymond Wadsworth)

Summary: Raymond reconnects with his dead girlfriend. Request: A fic based on ‘Dancing with your Ghost.’ Raymond's girlfriend died and for her birthday he throws her a party and she shows up and they dance and eat cake and are happy. Couple: Raymond Wadsworth/Fem!Reader Category: Angst (Hurt/Comfort) Content Warning: Major character death, death and dying, dead s/o, birthdays, brief/vague suicidal ideation Word Count: 3.2k

MASTERLIST

I’ve always hated birthdays. If you grew up having the father I did, you would understand why. Each year was just another reminder of the regretful event of my birth and another step in my rush towards the finish line. For a long time, that’s all it was.

But then I met her.

The first time she asked me for my birthday, I was convinced she was just trying to figure out my astrology chart. Granted, that’s exactly what she was doing, but then she just got so excited to hear that our birthdays were so close together. She said it was terrible for our compatibility, but that she was willing to overlook it.

It began a tradition that I swore I’d never enjoy. Every year, the two of us would get together to celebrate. It wasn’t always a celebration of us as individuals, or even life in general. Sometimes it was just celebrating our favorite ice cream flavor or the shitty television show we were currently fixated on. My favorite year was the one where we spent the whole time celebrating the lack of birthday celebrations (full Alice in Wonderland style).

When I was with her, there wasn’t a single birthday that passed where I was alone. She was always there, cake and candle in hand and ready to listen to whatever bogus anti-wish I’d concocted.

Two days before her birthday that year, I had realized that I didn’t hate the reminder anymore. In fact, I couldn’t wait to see her. To hear what she chose to celebrate and to watch as she opened her gift that was, for the first time, completely unironic.

I realized that day, as I held the small gift in one hand and my phone in the other, that I wasn’t meant to enjoy birthdays.

‘There’s been an accident.’

Why couldn’t fate have waited at least another 72 hours?

‘I’m so sorry, Raymond.’

She deserved to have another birthday.

‘It wasn’t anyone’s fault.’

I made her favorite cake.

‘Raymond? Are you there?’

I bought her funny balloons months ago with curse words and sad faces.

‘I’m so sorry.’

It wasn’t fair, I thought as I turned to the calendar where she’d wished me a happy unbirthday.

We were supposed to have a party.

‘She didn’t make it.’

—————367 days later—————

I hadn’t been able to sleep in what felt like a year. What had been a year. A year and two days since I lost her.

Time passed differently without her, but birthday season felt the same. It always came too soon and lasted too long. I’d been dreading her birthday with a twisted sort of oxymoronic excitement. I’d spent so long planning a celebration for a dead woman that I’d never stopped to consider she might not come.

It was a difficult, isolating problem to have. Not many would understand why the empty space where she should be sitting felt so disappointing.

I had done everything I was supposed to for her to arrive.

So why was I surprised when she did? Why had I needed to blink once, twice, three times before I believed my own eyes?

There she was, proudly seated beside me like she had been there all along. She wore a smile that told me she’d been waiting for me to notice. I could only hope that my reaction — which could only be described as a total and complete state of shock — hadn’t been disappointing.

“(Y/n)...” I muttered mostly to myself, “You came.”

With a quirk of her head and a graceful snort, she laughed, “Was I supposed to miss my own birthday party?”

I lunged forward to grab her, but then I stopped. Frozen in the air just before our bodies made contact, I noticed that nothing felt cold or warm or strange at all.

“C-Can I— Can I touch you?” I asked, nonetheless, breathless, and terrified and happy all at once.

A teasing smile stretched over her cheeks that had the same color as always. Small hands reached out around me, urging me forward, begging me to take the initiative to close the gap.

“Of course, Raymond,” she said like it was a stupid question. And honestly, it was, because we both knew that regardless of the answer she gave, I was always going to try.

Because she was right there. There was nothing hazy, no glowing lights or corrupted pixels — it was just her.

My arms closed around her gently at first, waiting for her to disappear and leave me grabbing at empty air. But then she was laughing, the air pushed from her lungs as she struggled under my vice-like grip, and I couldn’t contain it anymore.

I burst into tears before I could even comprehend what was happening. Her hands laced through my hair and her comforting giggles continued to echo in the room that had felt so lonely for over a year.

“Hey!” she yelled playfully while trying to comb through the bird’s nest on my head, “The song goes it’s my birthday I can cry if I want to. Not you!”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it,” I blubbered between sniffles.

“It’s okay… but you are being sort of a downer.”

She’d had a point, so I let it be. I answered only with an awkward, still stunned laugh, and she was all too happy to accept that as enough.

“Is the cake for me?” she asked.

Some part of me wanted to be offended, but it wouldn’t have been her if she hadn’t immediately abandoned me for a frosted pastry.

“Yeah. I made it myself.”

“I remember your baking,” she hummed just before taking a bite. Then, through a full mouth she mumbled happily, “I remember it well.”

While she lost herself in worldly pleasures, I was struggling to comprehend the otherworldly. I gazed upon her pure expressions of joy, the way her lips curved between each bite and her eyes fluttered shut to fully savor the taste of love baked into her favorite flavor.

I watched her, unabashedly basking in the beauty of another moment with her, even if it ended up being a fever dream or delusion. When she gestured for me to come closer, I followed without hesitation. I came so close to her that she actually had to back up to be able to bring a bite to my lips instead of hers.

I accepted the cake, and like her, I hadn’t let a full mouth dissuade me from singing her praise.

“I miss you,” I said, not realizing how heavy the words were.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she chastised with a soft click of her tongue.

The sound alerted me to what I’d yet to do, and before either of us could breathe another breath (assuming she in fact was), I brought our lips together. To my surprise, they were the same as the day I’d lost her. Warm, plump, and softer than what should be humanly possible.

Although, again, I supposed she was no longer human, anyway.

But it was hard to deny the perfection of every detail. As my hand smoothed over her hair and down her neck, I said the only thought repeating on loop in my mind, without considering how silly it would sound.

“You feel so real,” I said.

“I am real,” she laughed. Then, with a painful amount of sarcasm she lectured, “Ghosts are real, Raymond. I didn’t think I had to explain that to you.”

It was a good joke. A great joke, even. But I selfishly needed her to take the moment more seriously. To understand that I’d been waiting over a year to see her, and now that she’d joined me, she was acting like nothing had happened.

But it had. So much had happened.

“You know what I mean,” I whispered.

She let it go. It wasn’t entirely like her to let me win, but I think we were both willing to accept abnormal for the time being.

One thing had stayed the same, though. The music that gently flowed through the room was a healthy dose of nostalgia. A series of songs that I hadn’t managed to get through on my own in over a year.

“You’re playing my playlist,” she said with a distant, far-off stare. Like she was trying to remember the words that had escaped her.

“I heard it makes spirits more likely to come if they feel comfortable.”

(Y/n) started to giggle. Just a little at first, but then even a mouthful of cake hadn’t been enough to stop her.

“What’s so funny?” I mumbled in my usual insecure manner.

I knew it made her feel bad. It was sort of the point, but only because I knew she would make up for it swiftly and with full force. And she did.

“If you want what I’m used to, you should have played your 40s music and Halloween movie soundtracks,” she explained through the purest smile I’d ever seen.

I knew from that smile alone that, unlike how she’d struggled with her own, she would remember every word to every track on my list.

“I still can play that,” I pointed out matter-of-factly.

“Do it,” she urged through more lighthearted laughter, “I dare you.”

I’d been so excited to do it. I’d always loved our dares, always loved to beat her in whatever silly little way I could. I wanted to make her happy, to blast the music we shared together so that we could feel that foolhardy happiness again.

But when it came time to turn my back to her, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“Wait,” I said with shaky breath. “C-Can you… Please, come with me.”

“It’s like five feet away, Raymond. I knew you were needy, but...” she tried to play it off, but I remained steadfast in my footing. There was no playfulness to my tone; only pain I hadn’t really wanted her to hear.

“I don’t want to let go of your hand,” I whispered, “… Please.”

I watched as the realization dawned on her. The grief, anger, and sadness flashed over her features in the blink of watery eyes. Then it was gone again, replaced with love, and only love.

“Fine. I have to get up to dance anyway.”

And dance we did. We danced in every conceivable way, and some that were probably too ridiculous to even be considered as such. We did the tango, the Macarena, and the waltz. Our lips found each other over and over until I was certain she would be sick of it. She never was. We held each other shamelessly, loved each other in excess.

But when the music lost its novelty, we still hadn’t tired of each other. In that silence, I found the strength to request the answers to things I hadn’t wanted to ask.

“Can I ask you some questions?”

“Depends. Are they questions about death and dying?”

Smart as a whip.

“No, they’re questions about you,” I lied. When it was obvious that she hadn’t bought it, however, I admitted the truth. “Okay, fine. A little bit of both.”

“I’ll allow it,” she hummed before nuzzling her face further into my neck.

I considered not asking. I thought about how selfish I was being, to waste our little time together with my selfish nonsense. But the questions had been eating at me for a year, and I knew if I didn’t ask her, if I couldn’t hear her explain them to me, I would forever assume the worst.

“Why don’t you come visit me more often?”

“Ah,” was all she said at first. With a pained, tight grip on the back of my shirt, she gave her answer softly and defeated. As if she had been ashamed of the truth. “I can’t. At least, not like this. I planned very far ahead to be able to see you again.”

“Are you... happy? Being here, on Earth?”

That one took her longer to reply. When she did, though, the apathy in her voice told me more than the words she’d chosen.

“I don’t know that I feel anything about it. It doesn’t really feel like I’m here like that.”

The insecurities crept back over the happiness, bleeding through and tainting the memories that might need to last me a lifetime.

“D-Does it feel like you’re here now?” I croaked, “Do you feel like you’re with me now?”

Whether it was because she hadn’t trusted me to believe her voice, or because she couldn’t find the words to explain, she kissed me.

I accepted it as the answer because I was pretty sure I understood it, anyway. But when we pulled away, I chased after her lips. Her hands cradled my face, holding our foreheads together so we could talk without feeling too far away.

“I have one more question.”

“I know,” she whispered in a voice so pitiful, she was practically begging me not to ask.

But I had to.

“Can you stay?”

“No, Raymond,” she said through tears that started to pour down still lively cheeks, “You know I can’t. You know I would, baby. I would do it so fast, but I can’t. Please know that I would.”

Through my own heavy sobs, I choked out the only solution that felt attainable. The only thing I could think to do to make anything okay.

“Then…” the words caught on my throat, and she tried to kiss me to stop what she saw coming. But I didn’t let her.

I had to.

“Then can I come with you?”

With a knowing, devastating smile she answered, “Over my dead body.”

Together, we laughed the grief into a manageable existence. We let our tears dry because we wanted to be able to see each other as perfectly as we could for whatever time we had left.

As if she’d been able to read my mind, the way she always had even before she became supernatural, she wiped the tears from my chin as she assured me, “There is no rush, Raymond. Live your life. I’ll be there when it’s time.”

“How long will that be?” I asked, hoping that she’d have some insider information.

But even if she did, she just gave a little shrug, instead.

“I hope it’s a long time, so you’ll have a bunch of stories to tell me when you get there.”

“I’m terrible at telling stories,” I reminded her ever-so-kindly.

“You’re good at ghost stories,” she argued ever-so-smartly, “Like this one.”

I hugged her closer, unable to look her in the eyes when she proved me wrong yet again. I breathed in the scent of her exactly as I’d remembered it. I let my hands roam her back, her hair, her everything. I was shaking from the enthusiasm in my touch, but she never once complained.

Although, that didn’t stop her from commenting on the obvious.

“You’re a bit handsy for a guy touching a dead girl.”

“You know, I don’t remember you being this funny,” I squeaked in a poor attempt at self-defense.

With a feigned offense, she gasped before crying, “How dareyou misremember my greatest legacy!”

That time our laugh was nothing close to bitter. It was sweet as crystallized clover honey and milk. It did not hurt at all, and for the briefest of moments, she hadn’t been dead at all. She was alive in my arms, filling the reserves of my heart to maximum capacity once more.

I would need them to last me longer this time.

“When do you have to go?” I asked when I finally worked up the nerve.

With a lopsided smile, she answered, “Soon.”

“Will you wait until I fall asleep first?”

“Of course, my love,” she said.

There were no other words necessary. The night was quickly approaching its end, and although I knew it wasn’t a Cinderella story, I still didn’t want it to happen where she disappeared before my eyes came to rest.

So, the two of us curled up in the bed we used to share. Her body still fit so perfectly beside mine, and I wondered how it could be that my eyes fell heavy so quickly. After over a year of running on no sleep, my body was finally ready to rest.

So was hers.

“I’ll meet you in your dreams, too,” she promised me as she inspected my sleepy gaze with an unusual amount of scrutiny. Like she wasn’t quite sure she was telling the truth but would try her damnedest to make sure it happened. “Someday, I will.”

When I couldn’t stop the tears anymore, she was sure to brush them away all the same. Her eyes stayed open, and I decided that it was only fair that she would get to see me until it was time for her to go. Even if I was selfish for the extra few hours, minutes, or seconds, I would give her the chance to witness the peacefulness she provided.

“I love you so much,” I whispered for the last time.

“I love you, too, Raymond,” she returned in the same way, “I always will.”

I believed her. I would never have to wonder again.

“Go to sleep, darling,” she instructed with one more chaste kiss against my forehead.

And, in that way where I always tried my hardest to make her happy, I obeyed. I fell asleep to the sound of her voice saying that she loved me. I felt tight, greedy arms hold me until I was in the one place that always felt safe. The dreams of her and I, as we should have been.

I danced with her there, too. We held each other like a promise. We shared the simple joys of cake, Halloween soundtracks, and awkward laughter. I swore to myself that I would repeat it all over and over again so that I would never forget.

But when I opened my eyes again to see her, the day was new, and my bed was empty.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Things were going to be okay. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But that ever-elusive, always enticing ‘someday,’ we would be together again. She had basically promised me as much, and I had to believe her. She was always the smarter of the two of us. The funnier, too. I would be sure to remember that from that point on.

Breathe in, I thought to myself. But as turned to the empty chair where she’d sat, all of the air came out in a hasty, nervous laugh as I noticed half of the cake missing.

Beside the half-eaten pastry was a note, simple but sweet — just like we’d always been.

“Raymond,

I can’t wait until I see you again. Bring the best stories you can find.

I love you,

(Y/n).”

And although I cried as I read her name as written for the last time, I also had to smile at the frantically scribbled afterthought smushed into the little room left under her signature.

“P.S.” she’d written, “Bring more cake, too.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[de4dlyniightshade]

i'm having a Sad Day, do u have spence/chip/raymond hcs about how they'd react to u struggling to do basic tasks like getting out of bed/showering?

(yes i am using u for therapy bc i don't have irl therapy this week love u)

i don't have therapy at all but definitely should🤞

꩜ PAIRING: spencer/chip/raymond x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: none

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: mentions of depression/very low motivation and mood.

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.

A/N: couldn't pick so i did all three🤞

spencer:

doesn't really understand at first bcs he's very stuck in his routine no matter how he feels but as soon as you explain that you're just really no feeling it he understands completely.

gives you space to spend however long you want in bed but definitely routinely checks on you.

brings you food when he makes himself something and eats with you.

if you're struggling to shower on your own he absolutely will shower with you, washing your hair and your body.

if it's ever really bad he insists on calling into work so he can stay with you for as long as possible.

brings you any and all foods that promote serotonin like the seeds and nuts penelope brought him.

chip:

understanding immediately and grudges going to work if you're sulking in bed but knows that the money he does get will be spent mostly on you.

speaking of which, will bring in your favourite snacks after work and bring them to you when he gets home.

lays in bed with you for however long you'll let him.

will jokingly drag you out of bed to shower with him, pouting and fake crying until you give in because he knows a shower will make you feel better.

so so so many kisses and hugs.

takes you for a nice long drive to relax and get you some fresh air without you having to walk anywhere.

plays music really loud and convinces you to dance with him.

brushes your hair.

raymond:

rots with you.

will absolutely stay in bed and sleep with you for hours, even into the afternoon if you want.

very understanding of your situation bcs he's been there before and knows what it's like.

doesn't force you to do anything but encourages you a lot, making sure you know you don't have to but he's there for you if you need him.

feeds you well, anything and everything you want.

stoner ray is true in my heart so will light up with you and get as wasted as physically possible until you're both in another world.

tells you how proud he is of you when you bring yourself to shower.

kisses you on the cheek all the time.

[ghostedeabha]

‪₊˚ 𓂃˖ 𝜗𝜚 ｡˚₊. about me ໒꒰ྀི˶ᵔᆺᵔ˶ ꒱ྀིა‬♡;

🫀 name; éabha-áine (ey-va awn-ye) / sanaa (sahn-nah)

💌 nicknames/petnames; eve/evie, awnie, san, bunny, doll/dolly, princess, hun/honey, sweetheart, darling, حبيبتي (habibti), really any fem petnames are okay!

☦️ eastern orthodox christian, radfem (not a terf), pro-palestine, canadian

🧸 audhd, bpd, cptsd/ptsd, chronically ill/disabled

🩹 age + bday; 21 | 24/10 '02

🎀 likes; bunnies, sharks, cats, morute aesthetic, agere, plushies, sanrio, shawarma, hummus, weed, lemonade, raspberries, strawberries, cheesecake, hot chocolate, tea, lemon iced tea, gloomy coquette, gloomy dollette, dolls/doll collecting/haunted dolls, living dolls, reading, writing, dark romance, pink/purple/grey/black, moths, fashion

🐇 fav movies/shows; bob's burgers, criminal minds, gravity falls, girl intereupted, pearl, gone girl, svtfoe, bridgerton, pride and prejudice, suburban gothic

🌸 music; baby bugs, solya, nemhasis, mitski, lana, evenessance, jesse welles, bambi baker, marina, fairuz, skz, twice, g-idle, ethel cain, ayesha erotica, chappel roan, elyanna

💉 games; call of duty: mw, genshin, animal crossing: nh, sally face, little missfortune, call of duty: ghosts, minecraft, yandere simulator

🩰 youtubers; stephanie soo/rotten mango, lenalifts, michelle mcdaniel, mirubunnie, darling desi, safiya nygaard, bahja abdi, janet ndomahina, jasmyne theodora, yodeline light

🍼 no; masc petnames, agere fetishizing, trans/homophobic rants/slurs, racism, ableism

🍰 pls interact; cod girlies, fanfic lovers, girlbloggers, doll collectors, fanfic writers, masked men lovers, anyone who wants to really, biker lovers,

🦷 dni; zionists, bigots, misogynists, anti-religion, homophobes, transphobes, racists, ddlg blogs/fetishists, people who sexualize agere, minors, incels, creeps, porn/OF blogs

🐰 hiya! i'm éabha-áine, or sanaa, and welcome to my blog :3 i write fanfics, post/reblog some random stuff i like. i'm really into the morute and gloomy coquette/dollette aesthetics and plan to turn myself into a living doll one day! i'm an Orthodox Christian and radfem, but i'm very loving of my brothers and sisters of all religions (or lack-there-of). anything bolded above (other than my dni) are my special interests/hyperfixations, so if you're also into them feel free to send an ask to chat about it! feel free to send asks for requests or just to chat about your day! God Bless, and all my love! – éabha♡

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Safety First (Raymond Wadsworth x Reader) SMUT

Summary: Even when finally having sex with the person he desires most, Raymond keeps protection as his first priority.

AN: This was an entry for @imagining-in-the-margins​‘ NSFW fic swap, and this fic in particular is for the lovely @andiebeaword​ <3 

Reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns

Content Warning: Smut (18+, MINORS DNI), riding, biting, nipple play, 

Masterlist // AO3

Your name: submit What is this?

“I want to have sex with you.”

There wasn’t really any other way to tell Raymond that. Y/N stood opposite of him outside some random house on Raymond’s street, the dilapidated façade hardly the most enticing backdrop. However there had been more than enough foreplay during their work hours and she was done drawing this game out.

Raymond nodded, pressing his lips together as he did so. His normally focused gaze was staring to the left of Y/N’s feet.

He adjusted his lime green cravat before he replied with a solitary: “Alright.”

Y/N frowned a little, “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Raymond nodded once more before his delightful fingers curved around Y/N’s face and kissed her ever so gently. His lips curled into hers, soft like petals but pressing with such purpose. Y/N could not be happier to learn that this man’s hamartia was not that he was a bad kisser.

His so-called flaw of being a little dense made an endearing appearance. He pulled away from Y/N with a gulp before speaking with half a breath falling out alongside his words, “I want that too by the way.”

“Good.”

“To have sex.”

“Your place then?”

Y/N walked a little faster at first, but Raymond was quick to match her pace. Neither could decide if they should offer to hold the other’s hand on the brisk hundred metres to the Wadsworth household. By the time the house actually came into view, Raymond had concluded that his sudden confidence did not extend to that while Y/N realised that it was probably too late to hold his hand because now it would last a few seconds and be extremely awkward if Raymond accepted or not.

“Mom’s out,” Raymond said as he twisted his key in the door’s lock, halfway into the doorframe before backtracking and holding it open for Y/N.

Grateful, Y/N asked, “Aw, how’s she doing?”

“Really well, actually, she’s just taken up yoga.”

“That’s good, I’m glad she’s found something she enjoys.”

The pair lingered in the hallway, awkward glances and hands in pockets mirrored between them. Y/N spared a glance to the sitting room with the distinct reminder that her mother often joined Raymond’s in a weekly Zumba session. That was the opposite of what she wanted right now.

“Wanna go to your room?” She prompted.

Almost surprised, Raymond said, “Yes.”

His feet tip-tapped up the stairs and Y/N was the one trying to keep up now. By the time she made it to the top of the stairs, Raymond was already in his room. She caught him stuffing a pile of something into his wardrobe, despite the room being clean enough in its current occupation as a time capsule from 1986. All model UFOs and framed posters that clashed with the wallpaper and magazines that held such sentimental value despite being untouched on their shelves. Raymond pressed himself against the wardrobe doors with a thin-lipped smile.

“Nice room.”

“Thank you,” Raymond said, his smile shifting so that his dimples could peep out.

Y/N sat at the end of his twin bed and pinched a chubby alien. “I like your sheets.”

“Thanks, I put them on clean yesterday.”

Two seconds passed and Y/N patted the bed besides her. To her aroused delight, Raymond briskly plonked himself down in that very spot before he kissed her. His sudden weight made her bounce a little on the creaking mattress but his enthusiasm was palpable enough to keep her lips locked to his.

Raymond’s cravat had only been tied in a double knot; it landed somewhere behind Y/N, most likely on the navy and silver UFO rug. As she kissed where it had been resting on Raymond, her teeth playfully teased a mark into his skin. Each nip was partnered with a tug on his caramel curls at the back of his head.

“Oh fuck,” rasped Raymond.

But despite his lack of favour for buttons done up properly, Y/N groaned at the feeling of it denying access to more of his skin.

Her demands were simple. “Take your shirt off.”

Once again, Raymond acted with no hesitation. His cravat now had another clothing companion on the floor. At first, Y/N didn’t notice the oddity on Raymond’s chest, for she was also removing her own shirt. But she soon became acquainted with the ink forever etched into Raymond’s left pectoral.

TRUST NO ONE

Y/N’s head tilted, “Hmm.”

With sheepishly pink cheeks, Raymond said, “Becca says I dug and buried myself in a vagina grave getting this.”

“If she meant you’re gonna bury your cock in my vagina, then yeah, she hit the nail on the head.”

The room suddenly felt like a vacuum fit for his alien décor. Raymond stammered over the first letter of the word “what” for a solid amount of time. As he searched for the ability to speak, Y/N’s mind wandered off to think symbolism. His tattoo was a reminder to put himself behind walls first before trusting someone, a mantra to protect himself, and if that wasn’t damn adorable, she would have found a way to make it so.

“Anyway,” she unsnapped her bra and shrugged it off.

It instantly took Raymond off his stuck syllable, “Fuck me.” He stared at them with no evidence of shame – besides his rosy apple cheeks.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Y/N threw one leg over to sit on his lap and initiated a kiss. Raymond was all too eager to reciprocate, but it took Y/N grabbing his hands and putting them onto her chest to move things along. He let out a strained moan as he froze for a second. Then his nimble fingers squeezed and his thumbs dragged around the nipples in symmetrical stimulation. Sensitivity spiked in her heart; it rushed Y/N to keep pushing for what she wanted, what they wanted.

To keep getting undressed whilst being insatiably driven to keep their bodies touching one way or another, Raymond and Y/N were restless. Up and down, up and down, like bloody whack-a-mole, until finally they were both naked. Raymond’s eager fingertips dropped the condom packet twice.

Somehow he managed to get it on properly and he was pushed back into the bed. In no time at all, Y/N was taking his cock with wanton wails. Her hands cupped over his, keeping them on her. He wouldn’t have moved them for much but, while he was losing his mind to her heat, Y/N just wanted to keep as much of him on her. Those marvellous hands were staying where they were or going into her mouth.

Gravity was now Raymond’s best friend. As Y/N rose up then sank down upon his cock, never quite freeing him from her warm walls, he watched the boob in his palm bounce. She rode him with a pace that was trembling in its consistency. Each motion lost the world around them, and he was right there with her. Her face was framed with a halo of spaceships that hung around his room’s lightbulb. Sweat only amplified the accidental eroticism of fucking in his childhood room. The hand he dropped from her chest was a little clumsy about keeping on her clit, trying to keep up with her.

Y/N hardly had room in her mind to care how she looked. All she focused on was how good Raymond was at matching her thrusts. He’d just planted his feet meet her in more relish. Completing their sex was the creaking bed that set a nice rhythm for their heavy breathing. As she enjoyed this particular angle, she caught his eye. He dropped his dumbstruck fumbling gaze instantly to watch his cock disappear inside her.

The little green men printed on Raymond’s pillowcase watched with fascination as he – not for the first time in this room – came with a guttural groan. The difference this time was that he kept going in spite of his near painful euphoria. His mouth and eyes were wide open as Y/N pressed her hands against his chest, nails digging on his ribs during her climax that rocked through both of them. Its tension brought such sweet reprieve that spread through their sense.

It was the condom that was tossed into the bin, not a couple of tissue, and two sets of lungs scrabbling to cool two sets of warm cheeks that settled into the twin bed this time.

As Y/N rested her head against Raymond’s shoulder, he blurted out, “When we agreed you could come on a job, this was not what I thought would happen.”

Y/N couldn’t tell if it was out of dire curiosity or wanting to avoid the post-nut clarity.

“What did you think would happen?” She asked.

“I thought you’d laugh at the client when they talked about being stalked by a teenage ghost with a crush.”

“I did laugh at them though.”

The pair smiled and Raymond said, “Yeah.”

“So I met your expectations then.”

“I don’t think I could have ever expected this.” Raymond rubbed his right eye then cleared his throat, “Would you like to use the bathroom?”

“Sure.”

Prior to leaving the bedroom, Y/N found (on the first try, thank God) a fresh set of pyjamas to ruin with her sex-stained body. It wasn’t cold. Raymond had mentioned that his first official case was involving his house and, while she trusted he and Becca had done a good job helping the spirit reach peace, it wasn’t a risk worth taking. As she locked the bathroom door, she smirked at the image of the lightbulb exploding above a horny Raymond.

By the time Y/N returned to the bedroom, Raymond had tossed the bedsheets to be bundled at his shin. He too had decided on some armour against nudity: purple and lime green boxers. Sat up against the headboard, he was the vision of spent but pleased.

“You look nice in my pyjamas,” he said quietly before pointing to the newcomer of a glass on his bedside table, “I got you some water.”

Y/N took a sip from it before shooing Raymond over, “It’s not holy water again, is it?”

“It was a necessary precaution for today.”

“God, you’re so hot when you’re protective.”

The glass clinked against the wooden table top and Raymond’s flushed ears peeked out from under his mad mop of hair

“It’s an important aspect of our job!”

“You gonna keep protecting me then?” Y/N teased with a cheeky grin.

Raymond’s eyes grew twice their size as his posture bobbed into a straighter position. “Wait here a sec.”

Y/N was left alone in the twin bed as Raymond, struggling with the buttons of his pyjama shirt, flew across the room. She listened as his footsteps faded down to the first floor, muted on rugs and amplified by tile. Y/N wriggled off the pyjama bottoms and flung them aside while the pattering of Raymond’s feet remained hasty - besides one moment where it skidded to a stop and something clattered at the opposite end of the house. Then they resumed and Raymond was rushing back into the room. He was not alone.

A pumpkin was tucked under each of his arms, stickers from the store still adorning their pimpled skin.

He bounded forward to show them off, “I was gonna carve them tomorrow, but we can do that now if you want?”

With a casual frown on her brow, Y/N lifted the smaller one from him and spin it in the light, “Jack o lanterns?”

“They’re protective measures!”

“I know, Raymond.” She looked up at him with a bitten bottom lip and suggestive smirk, before completely ruining the subtlty with: “Carve pumpkins then fuck in front of them? Sounds like a date.”

Nevertheless, Raymond appeared very pleased with himself as he placed them down on the desk, but before he could retrieve his stencil ideas, Y/N had a gentle grip on his creased sleep shirt shoulder and a touch on the bite mark she’d left above his tattoo. She fingered over the gap in his pyjama buttons. In his hurry, only two were done up and they were not in the correct place.

“But I’m not really in the mood for disembowelling a pumpkin right now,” She said softly.

“Well,” Raymond dithered about, his mind racing to improvise some form of sexy defense mechanisms. His thoughts melted into incoherence as Y/N pressed herself up against him, her light fingertips teasing through his fringe.

“I thought mirrors are meant to ward off evil spirits,” She whispered.

A thick whine cracked in his throat as she broke away. But he waited and trusted her train of thought, for he had none himself. She took in the full-length standing mirror he had tucked into the corner. With a tilted head, she pulled it out and positioned it in front of the bed before turning back to Raymond, who was watching with dogged interest. He caught her gaze in the reflection. A grin was shared before Y/N grabbed Raymond’s sleep shirt and dragged him back to the bed.

  Bonus scene:

Raymond had already dropped the bags at the hotel while Y/N and Becca headed deeper into the city to their client.

“You’re sharing with me. Is that ok?” He had asked Y/N before departing.

“Of course,” Y/N had answered. Work had kept them apart since last week but at least she would have another night with the elusive Raymond Wadsworth. Loitering in the back of her mind was the way his face contorted in pleasure, right up until Becca bade them goodnight and winked at Y/N behind Raymond’s back. Y/N ended up making excuses for them both in order to get Raymond to avoid the hotel bar.

Once they stepped into the room, Y/N was made completely sure of both their intentions. Raymond closed the door and was then pressed against it as Y/N kissed him. Her wandering hands were already reaching for his belt when Raymond, looking wistful, moved away. Those gorgeous lips started confusing Y/N with their words.

“I’m not complaining, I’m just-” He swallowed a pant, “I didn’t think you’d be in the mood.

Y/N blinked, “We’ve got our own room.”

“It’s safer if we stick together.”

“But Becca has her own room.”

“She likes her space.”

Still staring at Raymond, Y/N gestured wordlessly to their bedroom. Upon entering, she had been slapped by the scent of roses. The source was even more obvious: the array scattered about the room, bundles in vases, and picked petals that paved the way to the bed. Not to mention the mirrored ceiling above them.

“Wild roses destroy vampires!” Raymond’s indignant fact was combined with eyebrows raised and a hand outstretched to his “protection”.

Y/N gawped at him for a second, then she said, “Fuck, you’re so responsible.”

Hands on his romper’s collar, she ungracefully kissed him. Her mild annoyance of their teeth clashing was replaced by a different kind when Raymond pulled away again.

“I see now how this has come across as romantic,” he said, more breathless this time.

“Just pretend that was the plan all along,” and Y/N whined as Raymond put his hand on her chest, halting the search for more loving. “What is it? You said you wanted to.”

“I do, but the roses still have their thorns. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

He began collecting the roses under his arm, uttering a quiet “ow” every time whenever the stalks scraped his skin, stripped by his short sleeves. It happened six times before he had rested them all on the bedside table. Almost all, he plucked one from the bunch and offered it.

“As lovely as you,” He said, clearly proud of his pick-up line.

Y/N did not share any of his respect, tossing his offering aside and pulling him in by his cravat. This time, he did not resist their lust. There was just one more protective measure to make before they could be together again – a condom.

[writing-in-april]

Spooks

Raymond Wadsworth X Female Reader

Summary: Raymond starts sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong at the next haunting he’s investigating.

A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my second fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April 2021!!! I had this spur of the moment idea in the middle of the night and ended up writing a pretty long fic for it (at least long for me lol) I had a lot of fun writing it and really liked the idea- I hope you all enjoy it too! Drop something in my ask box here if you’d like!! I’m always looking for feedback and my requests are open as well! Thanks for reading!!!

Warnings: 18+, Ghosts & poltergeists, Smut, Sub Raymond, Unprotected sex, Sex in a car, Slight cum play

Main Masterlist Word count: 3.2k

Your job description wasn’t an easy one to describe, you could say Mulder and Scully would be the most accurate equivalent. Though as with all tv shows it was portrayed with a set of rose tinted glasses, giving a filter to any realities you faced on the job.

You and your department preferred to call yourselves spooks, truthfully only because the pun was funny. In reality your 8 person department were called agents just like the rest of the FBI, you guys were just more secretive than the others.

Most of the time you ended up getting handed the short straw when getting new cases as you were still the newest on the team, despite being there for several years already. Unlike most professionals in law enforcement you did not have a partner, it only slowed you down. Every place that you were scheduled to decontaminate was an in and out procedure streamlined for effectiveness, adding another body to be hyper vigilant about was a hassle. You operated alone.

Any type of paranormal phenomena that you could think of was thrown in front of you. In your opinion the cases you had the most fun on were the ones that dealt with aliens, though some ghosts could be fun on occasion. The most recent case I had to deal with was a nasty poltergeist, the worst type of ghost. They always wreaked the most havoc on whatever house or place they occupied.

The family in this house had moved out a while ago, the request to decontaminate the home had been sitting on one of your supervisors for a while. It was an old house, built around the late 1800s. Old enough that it had a bunch of unnecessary rooms, like the parlor room that you found yourself trapped in.

And, you weren’t on your own either. Trapped with you was a man with fluffy brown hair flying in any direction, his eyes a darker shade of brown that were filled with fear- yet also curiosity. He was wearing a blue romper, it looked good on him, from what you had seen while you were frantic. But, you highly doubted that it would be effective clothes for a paranormal investigation, maybe he had just stumbled across this place out of curiosity. Either that or he was the type of an inexperienced investigator who had probably had one encounter with a ghost. It did not change that he was cute though.

“I’m a paranormal investigator- uhh technically a supernatural detective! My name’s Raymond! Who are you?!” He sputtered out, ranting probably to try to push aside his fear. You were standing side by side holding the double doors of the entrance to the parlor room, pushing them down to prevent the poltergeist from ramming it down and attacking us.

“Not important!” You snapped back at him, throwing a glare at him. Even if it wasn’t such a tense situation, you weren’t supposed to give away your identity or your job description to just anyone.

With another gasping breath he asked another question, even though you hadn’t answered his first inquiry, “I came with a girl, her name’s Becca- did you see her?”

This one you would bother to answer as he was quite obviously worried about the well being of his companion, “I may have seen her speed away in a red car after she was thrown out of the house. Was that your car she took?”

Not that you really cared all that much, but if he had been stripped of his transportation by his partner you’d have to take him in your own car. Not that you really wanted to, you still would have to help him even though he was seriously hindering your decontamination. “No, I came in my own car.” He answered which made you breathe a sigh of relief, you wouldn’t have to deal with another issue after you escaped, “I don’t blame her honestly, if I could leave I would.”

You were about to answer when your pressure on the doors wasn’t enough, making you both stumble forward. When you stumbled forward your keys, along with your badge, fell out of your pocket. Your badge flipped open front and center to reveal your name, plus the exact agency you worked for in a bold logo.

“You’re an FBI agent?!” You could not confirm or deny what he had asked, you were firmly focused on scrambling to get your things and avoid the ghost that was now throwing furniture at the two of you.

When Raymond finally took notice of the being that was pelting heavy objects around you, a ghostly shape in the form of a woman with a tortured look on her face, he screamed bloody murder. It was not unlike that of a scooby doo cartoon, him obviously resembling Shaggy almost perfectly. If only he had a dog to jump into his arms before he comically zoomed away while remarking “zoinks!”

His frazzled response to the ghosts giving a rather mediocre jump scare made you wonder whether he had the credentials to back up his job title as a paranormal investigator- or as he called it a supernatural detective. You racked your brain to try and recall anytime you had seen a Raymond or a Becca on the long lists of people that were being monitored for potential involvement, coming up with nothing. Well, maybe they were new, as his reaction seemed to indicate.

Your own reaction was stoic as usual, your nerves no longer jumped and your heart no longer quickened to the visage of a ghost trying to spook you. It was in no doubt for some arcane reason probably linked to revenge towards people that no longer existed. One would normally say don’t assume anything about people, that it might offend them to assume, but dead people in your view also had dead opinions- plus relying on precedent was usually a good option when a ghost might be trying to kill you. Despite the absence of fear from you there would be no call out of “Let’s split up gang!” either. It was you mostly not wanting to explain to your employer how you lost a citizen in the middle of this place and- besides that you couldn’t deny that you didn’t want him to die no matter how much undeniable extra trouble he was causing.

“Let’s go.” Your voice was firm, no discernible room for argument or questions.

Raymond somehow found a way to wriggle in to asking yet another question, “Where are we going?”

You yanked his hand out of the room that you think might’ve been a parlor room back in it’s day. You shouldn’t have bothered to answer as it would breed more questions from him, you already gave away too much about who you are and what you do. Any extra questions you answer from him was just creating a bigger breach in your security. Yet you found yourself justifying an answer, his eyes that were probably pulled into an adorable curious look laced with fear bored into the back of your skull as you dragged him out of the room and to the nearest exit. It was only a harmless question, it didn’t even have a satisfying answer, “Anywhere but here!”

Weaving my way through the house that was better characterized as a maze was hard to navigate through. At every turn some sort of iteration of the poltergeist tried to capture us, to pull us into death with it.

The two of us did eventually find the front door, only to find that we could not pull it open, the handle was stuck.

“Step back!” You shouted at Raymond to get him to move out of the way while you prepared to kick the door down. He skittered over to be right behind you, looking over his shoulder in paranoia. You used your right foot to kick the door, using all the leg strength you could muster. After three kicks, the door burst open, letting you both free.

Scurrying quickly to your government given work vehicle, looking back for a second to make sure that Raymond was following you. You couldn’t let a civilian die here, no matter how much of a nuisance he was, and he was cute of course.

Pulling out the last resort from the trunk of your car, gasoline, you then shoved a container of it to your unexpected companion.

“Cover as much of the house as you can!” He made no argument with your plan, running right behind you back up to the house to cover it all in gasoline. Once you had both covered it as much as possible you made sure Raymond was standing back before you lit your lighter and chucked it into the wood wet with the accelerant.

As soon as you could confirm with your eyes that the house had sparked with fire, you grabbed Raymond’s arm again to drag him to your car, not even caring about the one he had come here in. You basically threw yourself into the driver's seat, starting to drive away immediately after Raymond had sat down, before he had even shut the side door.

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, causing your heart to pound hard enough that it felt like it could burst out of your chest. It was not unusual in your field of work, to feel death brush right by you.

“My car?!” Raymond screamed, his body turned so he was looking out of your back window.

“Sorry no time to go back! The U.S government will reimburse you for that- maybe…” You said quickly, while trying to step harder down on the gas pedal to speed away.

The house behind you was burning so bright from you could hear the crackling from the house turning to ash. You imagined that the flames and smoke were big enough to be seen for miles, considering how much accelerant you poured on it. So much for being subtle, your boss was definitely going to chew you out for that.

When you had gained a sufficient enough distance away from the flames you pulled off into a parking lot adjacent to a park. Pulling into the parking space fast you then hit the brakes hard, jostling you two a bit.

Taking a deep breath you slumped forward to rest your head on your steering wheel, just for a moment of relaxation.

“You know burning it down won’t necessarily get rid of it.” You only grunted in response to his matter of fact statement. Your lack of response seemed to make him even more anxious, tapping his fingers on any surface that was around him to preoccupy his mind while you took your breather. He tried to fill the silence that was making him uncomfortable, “So what do you actually do?”

You sighed deeply against the steering wheel one last time, then leaning off of it to sit back in the seat. You decided that you might as well give him a small morsel of information that may satiate his curiosity, “That’s highly classified, but you could probably figure it out.”

His insistence to bring up what your job is was making your insides twist with anxiety. You were already dreading what would happen when you got back to the office. It would be a lot of paperwork to explain everything that happened, plus you’d have to submit an application on behalf of Raymond to get his car reimbursed.

The adrenaline that had spiked in your veins born out of fear was still present. It was overwhelming, and you felt the need to use it for something different than wallowing in your fear.

You redirected your gaze to fixate on Raymond, who could surely help you redirect your adrenaline. He was an attractive man, who’s personality did help make him even more desirable. Even though he was a pain in your ass, he was a cute and funny one.

His own eyes were fixated on yours as well, with a different look than what you had seen earlier. His eyes were deepened with lust, not fear, though there was still an ounce of curiosity in them- probably still wondering who exactly I was.

Grabbing the hairs at the back of his neck you then pulled him forward to crush your lips onto his. He reciprocated immediately, though did not try to challenge your dominance over the kiss. He let you slip your tongue into his mouth, exploring him with diligence.

You wanted him closer to you, feeling every inch of him. So you swung your legs over his lap as best you could with the space you had to straddle him. When you did so you barely let his lips come off your own, too greedy to let them separate from yours.

A thought however was nagging you in the back of your head as you continued to melt yourself into the kiss, he had mentioned a companion that he had been worried about earlier. You did not want to step on any toes, nor endorse any type of cheating. You separated your lips from his own, even though you wanted nothing more than to envelop him in another kiss.

“This ok with you?” Your words were said right into his lips, mingling your breath with his, “You’re not with that Becca girl are you?”

“Not anymore- and yes I’m totally ok with this.” He confirmed before surging up to meet his lips with your own again. You wasted no time in starting to grind your hips onto his cock that was swiftly growing underneath his shorts. Just from grinding you could feel how large he was, even through a couple of layers.

He moved his hands to the button of your pants when you moved your lips to start nipping and sucking on his neck and jaw. You tried to kick off the articles of clothing on your lower half, panties included, without removing your lips from him. Unfortunately you had to do so because of the amount of space. You cursed under your breath, wishing that the government had paid to give you a larger vehicle.

You were already slick with arousal, also aided by sticking your fingers into his mouth to get them sufficiently wet. He bobbed his head up and down on them eagerly until you were satisfied. Removing them from his mouth you ran them up and down along your slit, getting you even more wet.

You guided his length to your entrance, not sinking down immediately. You undulated your hips so his length was coated with your arousal as well. When he bucked his hips in impatience you just pushed them down back into the seat. Then you leaned down to whisper into the shell of his ear to be patient- he’d get what he wanted.

“Fuck me.” Was all Raymond could muster up to whimper when you sunk down onto his cock, his head falling back to hit the headrest. You wasted no time in starting a fast pace, bouncing up and down on him with vigor. Raymond grabbed onto your hips when he couldn’t find anything else to hold onto, digging his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

His large cock bumped up against your cervix in the most pleasurable way possible as you swivel your hips over him. Your own head tilted back, your mouth opened wide to let out a loud moan when his cock hit a particularly pleasurable spot inside you. You also felt the need to hold onto something as your release began to build inside you, getting ready to snap. So you grabbed onto the best thing you could find, running your hands through his hair and pulling on his strands.

One of his hands then moved to toy with your clit,his movements were a bit fumbled, but it swiftly made your orgasm start to crest. You were almost disappointed about how quickly this was going to be over, you however couldn’t deny that it felt amazing even with the frantic pace. In the back of your mind you couldn’t help but imagine all the other things you could do to Raymond if you were given the chance.

You fell apart above him, your eyes rolling back into your head. The adrenaline still coursed through your veins, and it felt good to have it redirected to a pleasurable experience instead of fear. You kept yourself impaled on his cock for a bit after your orgasm had finished, relishing at the feeling of him inside you.

Slipping out of him was a little bit awkward because of how cramped the space was. Once his cock slipped out of you, both of you groaning at the loss of him inside of you, you wrapped your hand around his length. You started to pump him slowly in your hands, taking your time compared to earlier. Your adrenaline had abated a bit and now you wanted to see how long you could drag this out, in case you never got the chance to again.

However, It still didn’t take much movement from your hands for him to get close, he was already close to the edge from being inside you. His hips bucked up into your hands a bit before he begged, “C-can you put- your hands- around my throat?”

“Should’ve known you’d be into that.” You snarked back a bit in response to his plea. Your tone had no sympathy for him, making him obviously think that you weren’t going to oblige him by the look in his eyes. That look of pure desperation in his eyes, with his kiss swollen lips, and his curls disheveled made you buckle. He groaned loudly when you put your free hand around his neck. You only applied a small amount of pressure, but that was all Raymond needed for him to cum all over your hand.

Once you had helped him ride out his own orgasm you removed your hand from his neck and his cock. You did need to clean up the hand that was covered in his thick ropes of cum, so you brought it up to your mouth to lick it clean.

“Fuck me…” Echoing his previous words, this time with an even bigger whimper. After you had cleaned yourself and him up enough to be decent you flung yourself back to sit in the driver’s seat again.

Raymond was silent for a minute, which seemed odd if you were going off of what little experience you had with him so far. Though maybe he was still going through his post orgasm relaxation just as you were. He then broke the silence, by asking the same question again, even though you had wanted to answer it just about 30 minutes ago. You’d bet money on the reason that he kept asking, being that each time that you answered you gave him a small hint, “Will you tell me now what you actually do?”

“Maybe- if you get to know me better.” You turned the key to start the engine again then asking with another hint as to what your job was, “Consider this your lucky day, you’ve got a spook as your chauffeur. Now, where next Raymond?”

—-

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[qslovebot]

Doubt, Denial, and Fucking Destiny: Raymond Wadsworth

Summary: After reconnecting with Raymond when he returns to town, he finds it hard to believe that he was your childhood crush due to the many years he spent believing he was unlovable. Your crush on him never left, it was simply buried, so you prove that you did like him and maybe still do?

Pairing: Raymond Wadsworth x Short Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: alcohol presence, mention of past verbal abuse and bullying, mention of weight loss, self-doubt, low self-esteem, kissing.

Raymond Wadsworth never thought himself deserving of any sort of proper love.

He grew up in a home where every day his stuck-up father pointed out his mental and physical flaws, his wrong choices, and his past and present failures with no hesitation or apology. Constantly under scrutiny and judgement at home, school wasn't much better. It may have even been worse.

The kids would poke fun at Raymond for his looks, his weight being the main target of most of the insults and he dug himself deeper by eating his feelings away.

To top it all off, he spent his childhood believing that he could see and communicate with the dead. With ghosts, to be more specific. And his father called him crazy for it all. You heard whispers of it around the school.

Raymond's childhood was hard, you knew that then as you knew it now, watching him prepare to drink himself away as you watched him down chocolate milk after a beating by older kids in the park years earlier. Many... years earlier. Too many- was this even Raymond?

He was taller now, maybe 6'1, nearly 6'2? He was much thinner now, but he looked decently healthy and his hair was still just as unruly as it had been all the way back then. He was, in fact here and he was also very very very attractive. To you, maybe. He'd always been attractive, even before he became who he was before he returned to the town.

Being about four years younger than him, you had admired him endlessly and achingly as a child. To be frank, he never took notice of you that way, only seeing you as the annoying little brat with the pigtails who chased him around the playground back then.

It was stupid that your heart skipped a beat the moment you knew it was truly him. It had been decades since you last saw him and you'd had many unlasting relationships since then. Here was your crush from when you were merely five and your heart fluttered? Stupid. Ahead of yourself.

But you wandered over to him anyway, sitting down next to him on the barstool. "I thought you had a blood pressure issue," you started, smiling as he froze the hand that held the shot he was about to throw back.

"Yeah... how did you know that?" He questioned before actually looking at you. The moment he lifted his head to get a glance at who was speaking to him, it was like all his organs stopped working at once. He choked on pure air at the sight of you. You couldn't help but smile.

He continued coughing and you laughed, "I don't think taking that shot is a good idea anyway... do you need water, Raymond?" You knowing his name set off a new round of coughing and you and the bartender nodded at each other as they placed a cup of water in front of Raymond.

You watched him try to recalibrate his respiratory system and eventually, he regained his breath, looking up at you through curls. "I'm sorry, uh, hot girls- they usually don't just walk up and talk to me."

"Aaand hot men usually don't choke on absolutely nothing when I approach them, so there's a first time for everything." You smiled, folding your hands and resting them under your chin. It seemed like it took him an extra second to process that you had just called him hot. He was just as shy-seeming as he was then. It seemed like he was also trying to place your face. "You don't remember me?"

"I think I do, I just can't place where..."

"I'll jog your memory," you suggested, immediately reaching to pull your hair into ponytails that stayed put with your fists. You lowered yourself a little and nodded, pulling your mouth to one side to mimic the way you looked so long ago and his jaw dropped.

"(Y/N)! No way! Oh my god, you're still 5'2!" He gasped, running a hand through his hair. So he did remember you after all. "-And you have boobs now, that's- that's great." His eyes drifted and you snapped to get his attention back up to your face. "You look- you look great, holy fuck."

"Thak you, so do you," you shook your hair out again and bit your lip. "You look so much happier."

"You can say skinnier," he shrugged.

"I would say skinnier if that's what I meant, Raymond, but I meant happier." He seemed a little bit surprised. "I see that you are but frankly it never mattered to me. I liked you anyway."

His eyebrows narrowed, "Liked me anyway? Weren't you like... five when we met? I was... nine-ish. And you... you would follow me around, was that a crush?"

"It was," you admit, a small smile tugging your lips again, eyes fluttering from his hands back up to Raymond, who looked baffled. It made sense that he thought nobody liked him back then. Your reveal to liking him then seemed to grip him with shock well enough. Wait until he understood just how long. "-And it lasted until I was thirteen and you were... seventeen. I think that's around when you went, wasn't it?"

He nodded, eyes drifting. You snapped again and his mind snapped back to where it should be. "Y-yeah. When did all this... happen, because when I left you were..."

"Conventionally unattractive." You finished. "Well there's one word to sum it up and it's puberty. It hit me, it hit you and now we are right back where we started and you seem just as likeable."

"And you're far less annoying..." he trailed off. "I cannot believe you're still here."

"I can't believe you're back." You grinned. You could see his interest in you as he sat there. Was he wearing pyjamas? It all seemed to add up. You were here, he was back, and your heart kept fluttering oddly. So you spewed it, "I think my crush for you is still here, oddly enough."

It was fun to see him joke on air again. "You still like... me?" He seemed so shocked to hear it. "Woah woah woah, no. You can't have my wallet. Or are you a prostitute now?"

"Not a prostitute, I was trying to hit on you while being sweet at the same time," I sighed, downing the shot Raymond had in front of him. He didn't seem to care much about it. He was swallowing hard now, sharp cheekbones flushed.

"Genuinely trying to hit on me?" He questioned again. He really didn't believe you, huh? But it made sense, what with his upbringing. The overweight kid who saw ghosts- the reputation didn't fare well. So you decided maybe,

"We should get out of here, Raymond. Those bitches over there are still picking on you and you can't really drink without your blood pressure killing you, so I say we just go for a walk." You suggested. His long fingers rested on the edge of the bar and you let your smaller hand close around his. "I've paid for my drinks and I will pay for yours." You slapped money down on the counter for the bartender.

"A walk?" Was all he could really say before you led him out of the bar and into the night. You could only imagine what was going on in his mind. An ugly annoying girl from his childhood was now hot and socially decent and now he finds that girl still likes him and always liked him, even at his worst... Must be exciting.

The breeze was cool outside, but the air around the flow was warm. You finally answered, once a few steps from the bar entrance. "Yes, a walk. Bar settings tense you up, look at how loose you are now. You don't even notice you're still holding my hand." You teased, giving his hand a squeeze before interlocking your fingers with his. He turned pink again and it could be seen even in the flickering lights of the street.

"I suppose I'm confused... You don't think I'm gay?"

You narrowed your eyes, "Are you?"

"NO!" He shouted back. "Why does everyone think that?"

What the fuck? "I never suspected you were but looking at you, maybe it's the ascot."

"The ascot?"

"The ascot." You replied with a small smile. "I don't think you look gay... I don't even think it's possible to look gay. You do look cute though. Maybe those other bitches who called you gay are gay."

He nodded, halfway through untying it. Both of you kept walking down the sidewalk. "Thank you." I could tell he was trying not to say too much now. He was doubting himself.

I sighed, swinging Raymond's arm over my shoulder, fingers never unlocking. I could feel his hand trembling a little. "Raymond, I know this was sprung on you, but I did and do like you. I have yet to properly figure who you are now, but I do." You made sure to look up at him so he knew you were serious.

His mouth was open as if he wanted to speak, but couldn't. Until he did. "Are you sure you're not a prostitute?"

Holy fucking shit. You began to rant, "No, Raymond! I'm just a girl. I'm just a girl and I like you and I want to maybe know you before you head off again. This whole town is a fucking gravity pit, a fucking black hole and I would like for once, for someone to want to talk to me. AND, I would like nothing more than for you to know that people are in fact capable of liking you romantically, despite everything your asshole father may have told you, or the kids at school who couldn't see your worth then or now and I-"

He spun you, fingers still intertwined and suddenly, his lips were on yours, and he wasn't particularly sweet or gentle. In fact, it was ravenous. He pushed you against the wall of the building you were passing. It seemed like the slightest bit of reassurance, the slightest bit of someone showing him how much he was worth, set him off. But you didn't really care.

Raymond's shaking hands slid into the roots of your hair, holding your face as he kissed you with great passion. With muffled 'mmmm's and wandering hands, you gripped him by the ascot, holding him down to your height.

But you couldn't kiss him much longer. "Raymond, I don't want to take advantage of your insecurities," You mumbled against his lips. You had been more confident earlier, but he had you practically unravelling. "I've always liked you, I have, and I'm so glad we just kissed, but-"

"My heart is beating too fast to properly hear, but I know you're sweet as hell and I really just want to pretend we're teenagers and make out for forty minutes nonstop, is that okay?" He interrupted with rambling, and it was more than clear what he wanted.

"How about forty-five, ghost boy?" You yanked him down by the ascot again and his hands went right back to either side of your face while he pulled you into the alleyway. He got his forty-five minutes and it ended sweetly, with him making you promise to come and see him tomorrow. You agreed, watching him go. He walked backward as to say goodbye, but tripped over a garbage can.

He was alright. There would be a conversation piece in the bruise he would probably get tomorrow. Call it fate or call it fucking destiny that he was back and your feelings were still there. All these years and you finally had what you'd wanted so long ago. Plus, it was only the beginning.

[reidgraygubler]

not just a ghost hunter (raymond wadsworth/reader)

Title: Not Just A Ghost Hunter

Request: no

Pairing: Raymond/Gender-Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Angst

Content Warning: seance, talks of demons and ghosts, swearing, bloody nose, mentions of dying and death, use of a Oujia board, mentions of the death of a parent

Word Count: 4,194

Summary: A ghost is haunting Reader’s home, so they get in contact with a close-by Ghost Hunter, Raymond Wadsworth. 

A/N: the final day of my 7days7fics!!! I had a lot of fun writing these this could be read as platonic, could be read as romantic, depends on how you want to read it :). Also I'm sorry if there’s ANY inaccuracies with this one, I just went off the knowledge that I knew… which is basically from buzzfeed unsolved… not a super trustworthy source… anyways… and lastly, my sister read this and she said she got spooked at some parts, so just… proceed with caution. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

My house isn’t haunted. It can’t be haunted. Right? I mean, all my life I’ve lived in houses that were normal. I’ve never lived in a haunted house. And if they were, I’m sure I’d remember that. Though, I did have an imaginary friend when I was a kid, and now that I think about it, I don’t think it was imaginary.

So, if my house isn’t haunted, can someone tell me why my reflection wasn’t my reflection… And was instead the face of a little girl…? She was pale and translucent and looked… lost. 

She looked lost until she jumped at me, causing me to fall back in my chair.

“What the fuck!” I jumped off the ground and looked back at the mirror. The little girl was gone now, and I was left staring at my own reflection. It was like nothing happened. Everything was… normal. 

I was quick as I finished getting ready for the day, trying hard to ignore anything… out of the ordinary. But it felt so hard when the room went from comfortable temperature to freezing cold. A shiver went down my spine, causing me to squeal.  

My house seriously can’t be haunted…. I just moved in! Maybe that was why the house was for sale. The previous owners were sick and tired of a creepy little girl wreaking havoc in their lives. Aren’t realtors supposed to disclose whether a house is haunted or not? Or was that just a myth?

I did what any other sane person would do: I ignored my problems and hoped they would go away on their own. That’s the right thing to do, right? I mean, I’ve done it before and those issues went away. 

It was hard. At first, it was the lights flickering on and off, then came the clattering from the attic, then I would find the chairs in weird spots or pulled out from the table… And then what it was… was waking up with scratches on my arms, legs, and torso. That was what got me worried and scared. 

I decided to stop being a normal and sane person. I couldn’t live like that anymore. So, I called someone. I was half expecting them to laugh at me and hang up. But, instead, they were very understanding. 

“Ghost Hunting and Psychic Medium,” a woman spoke cooly into the phone. I pulled the blanket tighter around my body as I looked around my home.

“Yeah... Hey, hi, I was just wondering how much your services are?” my voice was soft as I spoke. It was hardly a whisper. I wasn’t afraid that the ghosts could hear me. I was… Yeah, no, I was afraid the ghost could hear me. 

“Well, that depends on what you’re looking for. If your house is haunted and you need help putting the ghost to rest. Or, if you want to reach out to a loved one…” she continued, her voice droning on as she talked. I wondered if she actually liked her job. 

“Uh… I think my house… is haunted.” I wrinkled my nose as I looked at the coffee table, watching as a magazine dragged off the edge of the table by seemingly nothing. “I definitely think my house is haunted,” I nodded and spoke quickly.

“Do you know by what?” 

“What? What the fuck does that even mean?” 

“What kind of spirit is it? Like, is it a poltergeist, because if it’s that we don’t do that. Is it a normal spirit? A ghost? Do you know what type of spirit? And have you seen any orbs?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I just… I don’t know! I need help. That’s all. I just need help.” I spoke quickly, “The fucking magazine just fell off the table! I woke up with scratches on my body from nowhere! I just need help." 

“I’ll send Raymond to your place, right away. What’s your name and address?” she asked, her tone suddenly calming as she spoke. I took a deep breath before giving her my address. “He’ll be over when he’s done with this client.” 

“Thank you.”

“Oh! Real quick! Do you have any pets? Cats, dogs…?”

“No?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to not think about how weird of a question it was, “Is… Is that important?”

“Mmm, a little bit. Raymond will ask you more questions when he gets there. But, I can tell that you need our help with the urgency in your voice.” 

“Thanks, I… I think…” I furrowed my eyebrows as my eyes shifted across the room. 

“He should be over soon!” 

“Thanks, again,”  I swallowed roughly before hanging up the call. I held my phone in a tight grip as I stared at the front door, waiting for the bell to ring or there to be a knock with the knocker. 

‘Stupid old house,’ I thought to myself as I slowly nodded off.

However I wasn’t asleep for very long because 20 minutes later, there was a knock on the door, causing me to jump awake and fall to the ground. 

“Coming!” I shouted, pulling the blanket tighter around my body as I shuffled to the front door. 

When I unlocked the door and pulled it open, I was met with a tall, scrawny-looking guy who looked nothing like a ghost hunter or psychic or medium. He just looked like a normal-looking dude. 

“Are you…?” he asked my name, looking at me with a friendly smile on his lips. I stared at him and nodded, forgetting that I gave his secretary my name earlier. “Perfect! Nice meeting you, I’m Raymond Wadsworth,” he stuck a hand out with his introduction.

“It’s… It’s nice meeting you too,” I stared at him before stepping to the side, “Thanks for helping me, by the way. I just moved in and I swear my house isn’t haunted,” I lied as he entered my home. My lie was foiled as a loud clatter followed by a bang came from up the stairs. “That’s the cat,” I lied, again, although I wasn’t sure why I was lying to begin with. I’m the one who called for help. I think my nervousness is making me lie. I’m pretending that I don’t need help when I really do need it; it was just a defense mechanism. 

“You said you didn’t have a cat,” Raymond looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. I swallowed roughly before shrugging.

“I… I don’t,” I widened my eyes before stepping into my house a bit more. “Roommate?” I glanced over my shoulder and at Raymond. He didn’t seem too convinced by my lie. And to be honest, neither was I. “I thought I lived by myself,”

“When did you say this house was built?” he asked, looking around at the old crown molding before looking down at the original hardwood floors that creaked with every step.

“Uh… 1901… I think. I don’t remember. I just know it’s very old.” I stepped so I was beside him, making the floor creak with my step. Raymond jumped slightly at the sound, forcing me to hold back my snicker. 

“People definitely died in this house then.” Swallowing roughly, he looked towards the staircase. Another clattering came from somewhere upstairs, causing me to jump behind him. It wasn’t like that’d do much help, honestly. I mean, standing behind a ghost hunter… while we’re both looking for ghosts… doesn’t really make sense. 

“Sorry,” I looked over at him as I felt the terror grow in my stomach, “I can’t move out either… I just moved here two months ago…” I spoke as I gave him the tour of my haunted house. I really wished I didn’t move into a haunted house. 

“You definitely do have some angry spirits here,” he looked around my home. I froze as we walked through a cold spot. “Dining room?” he looked over at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded before taking the lead back to the dining room. 

“Do you need anything? Like, uh, water? I don’t know. I’ve never thought I needed to do this before,” I looked up at him as he placed his bag on the table.

“Do you have any offerings to give the spirit?” Raymond asked as I sat across from at the table. I looked at him as my hands folded on the tabletop. 

“Uh… Er… An offering? I thought you were the ghost hunter here! Not me!” I watched as he set up a Ouija board and candles. 

“Not a ghost hunter,” he looked up from the candles as he lit them. I furrowed my eyebrows before standing back up. “Do you have anything?” he didn’t exactly clarify what sort of offering I would need. So, I went in blind.

“Yeah, yeah, let me… Let me check,” I tapped my fingers on the table before walking away. I slowly walked back to the kitchen, my phone flashlight safely guiding the way in the dark, spooky halls and rooms of my home.

“Stupid offering,” I scoffed, rummaging through the cabinets for something, anything that would work as some sort of “offering” for this stupid ass ghost. 

It was near impossible to find anything for this ghost. Granted, my food situation was a little on the lower side, seeing as I needed to grocery shop. Maybe this dumb thing would like.…

“Rice Krispies!” I exclaimed as I spotted the blue boxed cereal treat. I grabbed a few Rice Krispies before running back to the dining  room. But, before I made it, I seemingly tripped over nothing. 

“Fuck!” I shouted, landing hard face-first into the floor. My hand found its way to my nose, feeling blood trickling down my lips. “Shit, shit shit,” I muttered as I scrambled to my feet. 

“Did you find something?” Raymond looked back at me. I smiled, ignoring the blood coming from my nose, as I held up the 3 Rice Krispie treats I had. “What happened to your nose?” his shoulders dropped and worry took over his face as he looked at me.

“Oh! Uh, I tripped over the rug,” I lied, looking at him as I approached the table. I have one rug in the whole house, and it’s in the dining room. It was obvious that I had lied. He’s picked up on my lies covering for my fears.“I have… I have Rice Krispies! Will these work?” I looked down at the snack before placing them on the table.

“No-Well, yeah, they’ll work,” he shook his head as he picked up the treats. I nodded before rushing back to the kitchen, grabbing paper towels to hold to my nose. I returned to the dining room to find Raymond sitting at the table. The candles he had set up on either side of the Ouija board were lit, and the lights were turned off. 

“Do you do this with your girlfriend?” I laughed, looking at him as I slowly approached the table. Raymond looked up from his book and right at me. 

“I… I don’t have a girlfriend,” he furrowed his eyebrows. I swallowed roughly before sitting across from him. “Now, we have to summon the spirit,” he looked at me, watching as I nervously tugged my finger tips. 

“You… You want to summon the spirit… H-here? Are you sure that’s a good idea,” I could feel my body shaking with fear with his words. I was already dreading this. But I knew something had to happen because I couldn’t live in a haunted house. Something had to go, and it wasn’t going to be me. 

“We need to figure out why it’s here, where it came from, what it wants, and how to get it to leave.” Raymond looked at me as he placed his hands, face up, on the table. I stared at them for a moment before carefully resting my fingertips in his hands. 

“Are… Are you sure you need me for this? I could wait outside if you don’t really need me,” I stared at him. The way the small flames glowed off his face only mildly scared me. The intensity of his eyes told me I should stay here. “Okay, I’ll stay,” I whispered. 

Raymond started talking, bringing the ghost to the dining room with us instead of where it lived upstairs. I jumped out of my skin the second a loud bang came from my room. Raymond looked back at me, his grip around my hands tightening slightly. I couldn't tell if he was doing it to keep me still, or he was doing it to reassure me. I hoped for the latter. 

“Everything will be okay. I’m scared too,” he whispered as he looked at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“Don’t you do this for a living? And you’re scared?” 

“Everytime I do this, I’m scared. Because, if it’s a vengeful spirit… I’m fucked. I just started this business with my partner last year. I’m in no way equipped to deal with a vengeful spirit or poltergeist. I just do pissed off ghosts who need help crossing over.” The way he spoke was almost sad. I couldn't exactly put my tongue on it, but there was a certain sadness in his words. “They get a little lost and get stuck in the homes of their former lives.”

“That’s… That's really sad actually,” I whispered, looking down at the Ouija board in front of me. “Don’t make me feel bad for ghosts. This thing has been tormenting me since I’ve moved here.” I looked back at Raymond and scolded. He only smiled and shrugged.

“Ready?” he asked as he removed his hands from mine and placed them on the planchette. I swallowed roughly, resting my fingers opposite his. “Are you here?” his voice was low as he looked down at the tiny window on the board. 

I watched as the planchette moved across the board, slowly moving towards ‘Yes’. My heart was in my throat as I stared at the yes. I had to convince myself that this was real, and it wasn’t just Raymond messing with me. I mean, this whole thing could be a total scam and this guy I invited over is a total scam artist. 

“Can you tell us your name?” Raymond asked, causing me to look up at him. He had a crease in his brow as he looked down at the board. 

I looked back down at the board as my hands were moving with the planchette. It moved between letters, giving us the name Marjorie. 

“That… that’s the name of the little girl I dream about,” I looked up at Raymond. He looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. “I only have dreams about every so often, like once a week.” 

“She must be trying to get a message to you,” he looked back down at the board.

“Hello Marjorie, I’m Raymond,” he introduced himself to the spirit that was with us. “Can you tell us how old you are, Marjorie?”

My eyes dropped back down to the board, watching the planchette move to the number 1 twice. 

“She was 11 when she died,” I whispered, staring at where our hands sat. My heart slowed as I stared. Swallowing roughly, I looked back up at him. “She’s just lost…” I blinked as my eyes began welling up. 

“We’re here to help her,” Raymond reminded me. I nodded, feeling as a tear rolled down my cheek. “Marjorie, are you lost? Do you need help finding your way home?” 

I was too distracted to see the answer. And the reason why I was distracted was because there was a laughter of a little girl coming from behind me. 

“R-raymond,” my voice shook as my body froze. Raymond slowly looked up from the board and right behind me. “Please tell me you heard that too,”

“I need you to stay very still,” he whispered before he stood up. I watched as he walked beside me and knelt to the ground. “You must be Marjorie,” he looked behind me as he spoke. 

“C-can I move?” I asked, swallowing roughly. And, before he even got the chance to answer, the candles were blown out and the room got very cold. 

“Fuck,” Raymond muttered as he stood up straight. I looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Fuck as in “fuck she’s gone for good” or Fuck as in “Fuck she's fucking gone”? Because I don’t like the way you said that,” 

“The latter,” he paused when more clatter came from upstairs. I swallowed roughly before turning in my chair to look at the stairs. “She must’ve gone up there. I’m willing to bet her bedroom is your current room,” he looked down at me. 

“I-I’m guessing you want us to… go up there?” I stared at him. He dropped his head before nodding. I looked back at the table, looking at the Ouija board.

“I’m never sleeping ever again,” I muttered as I stood.

“It’ll be that way for a long time. But then someday you’ll have the best rest of your life, and you won’t even realize it,” he looked down at me. “Trust me, I speak from experience.” 

“I mean, I suppose I have to trust you. I’m paying for you to get rid of this ghost… Which I feel bad about now… Now that I know it’s a little girl,” I sighed as I slumped my shoulders.

“C’mon, we should go see if she’s up there,” Raymond nodded, taking the lead from me and brought us towards the stairs. And just as we made it to the top of the stairs, his hand brushed with mine. I looked over at him with wide eyes. “You don’t have to hold my hand… I’m not that scared,” I laughed as his fingers interlocked with mine. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this…” his voice was low, and he audibly swallowed. 

“Tell me what?” I shivered as a cool shock went down my spine.

“I’m… I’m not holding your hand,” he looked over at me as he slowly lifted his hands. Swallowing roughly, I very slowly looked down at the space between Raymond and I. The ghostly figure of Marjorie standing between us, her hand encased with mine. 

“Fuck!” Raymond and I both screamed at the same time before we both ran towards my bedroom. I slammed the door shut before locking it and pressing my back to it.

“Offering!” Raymond looked at me with wide eyes. I stared at him, feeling my heart jump to my throat from the fear. 

“I-I gave you something,” I stuttered over my words as I vaguely gestured towards the kitchen. 

“Do you have, like, something important to you?” he placed his hands on my shoulders. I swallowed roughly as I looked around my room. A tattered stuffed rabbit sat on my bed. It was something I’ve had since I was little. My dad had given it to me for my 11th birthday. It was the last birthday I had with him before he died. “Something that isn’t a lunch snack.”

“Why do you need something important?” whispering as I asked. My eyes went back to him.

“Marjorie is lost. She’s a disturbed spirit in your home and she needs help crossing over. Giving her something of great importance will help her cross over,” he explained as he kept his eyes on me. I swallowed roughly before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll have to look." I stepped away from him as I went deeper into my room. 

“Okay, I need… a mirror,” he turned as he watched me look in my closet. I turned to look at him, my eyebrows raising in confusion. 

“A mirror?” 

 “I need to leave a simple message for her to figure out what she wants or needs. She can give us a message to help us… help her,” he looked over at the mirror by my dresser. My raised eyebrows slowly became furrowed the longer I stared at him. 

“A message?” 

“That’s what I said,” he looked over at me as he went up to the mirror. “Stay here, keep looking for that offering. I’ll be right back,” he pointed at me before exiting my room. 

I was going to have to  pretend that I didn’t have anything of great importance. I wasn’t willing to give up that stuffed rabbit. Not now, not ever. Marjorie was going to have to want something else.  Or she was going to have to become like Casper the Friendly Ghost if she was going to stay here longer. 

The door opened and closed with a soft slam.

“Hey, I have… this,” I held up a book that I got a few years ago from an old friend. It had no real importance to me anymore, but what Raymond and Marjorie won’t know won’t hurt them…. 

I turned around to show Raymond the object, my eyes looking at the cover of the book. When I looked up, I didn’t see Raymond. It was Marjorie that I saw. 

“H-hi Marjorie,” I whispered, lowering the book. She stared at me as she slowly lifted her finger, pointing right at me. “R-Raymond!” I shouted, taking a step back. Marjorie copied my step, except she moved closer to me. “Raymond!” I shouted again, this time a little bit louder. 

Raymond came crashing into the bedroom, looking at me with panic on his face. 

“Oh, I-I see,” he caught himself before he could crash into me or Marjorie. He looked between me and the ghost as he slowly walked towards us. Marjorie’s head turned, her body staying put, to face Raymond before screaming and vanishing. 

“Something tells me this book won’t work,” I lifted the book back up and looked at it. I wrinkled my nose as I looked back at Raymond. He was looking at me, watching me carefully. 

“Do you have anything else? Something more important to you, maybe?” Raymond stepped up to me, his arm extending out to take the book from me. I looked at the book before looking over at the stuffed rabbit. 

“Y-yeah, I do…” I sighed deeply, my shoulders slumping as I walked over to the rabbit. I picked it up and looked down at it. “It’ll be gone forever if I give it to her,” I pushed the ears back before resting my hand on its stomach.

Raymond looked at me, a certain sorrow on his face. “It’s the only way,” he whispered softly. I looked up at him and sighed deeply. 

“How do you know?” 

“When I went down stairs… On the bathroom mirror, she had written stuffed animal,” he stepped up to me, looking down at the rabbit in my hand, “She must’ve left hers behind… and she can’t leave without it,” 

“I…” I stopped, cutting myself off with a deep sigh, “I guess… I guess if it’ll help her, she can… she can have it,” I swallowed roughly and looked back up at Raymond. 

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” 

I shrugged before looking at the rabbit. “She can have it,” my voice cracked. I wiped my cheek on my shoulder and shook my head. 

“Come on, the quicker we give this to Marjorie, the quicker you can have your home back,” he looked at me with sad eyes. I looked up at him and nodded. Raymond took the lead back down to the dining room, his set up with the ouija board cleaned up and my room was back to normal. 

“Do I just-” I stopped talking when the little girl appeared beside Raymond and I. I looked down at her, watching as she was looking between me and the tattered bear in my hands. 

“She’s waiting for you,” Raymond nodded at the bear. I swallowed roughly before lowering to the ground. 

“H-hi Marjorie,” I smiled at her before holding up the rabbit, “This… This rabbit is super important to me… You take care of him… O-okay?” I held the rabbit closer to her and blinked. 

Marjorie looked at me and nodded lightly before grabbing the rabbit from my hands. I smiled softly as she cuddled the rabbit before vanishing on last time. With a deep sigh, I stood up and looked at Raymond.

“Thank you so much for your services, Raymond,” I smiled sadly at him and nodded, “I’ll uh… You’ll send me a bill?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Raymond smiled and shook his head. “Happy to help you get rid of your problem,” he spoke as he collected his belongings. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, really… It’s no problem,” he held his bag over his shoulder, “Hope you finally get a good night’s rest,” he smiled before leaving. I smiled, standing alone in the dark dining room. It took me a long time before I finally moved to get ready for bed. But, when I did get to bed, it was the best night of sleep I’ve had in a very long time.

And, when I woke up the next morning, sitting at the foot of my bed was the rabbit I had given Marjorie the night before.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[issamhysa]

Little Baby

Pairing: Raymond Wadsworth x Reader

Warning(s): Language, mentions of blood and injury, but mostly fluff

Summary: Sometimes it's better just to listen to your significant other instead of, you know, doing the exact opposite of what they tell you to do.

A/N: What a cutie.

You sat in your boyfriend’s lap, surrounded by bloodied gauzes and boxes and boxes of bandaids. Sitting as still as he could with his hands on your hips, Raymond’s face was covered with an assortment of bandaids, all different shapes and sizes, and ranging from solid colors to Hello Kitty designs.

You held Raymond’s face in place with one hand, gently placing the bandaid over the final scratch on the bridge of his nose and smoothing out the sides with your fingers. Raymond scrunched up his nose when you pulled your hand away, shaking your head.

Whether it was disappointment or amusement, Raymond couldn’t really tell.

“I know I promised I wouldn’t ask, but you know I have to. Why the hell are you covered in scratch marks?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and lacing your hands together behind his head, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Raymond paused for a few seconds, considering your question and tilting his head into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Just tell her, Raymond,” he thought to himself, lifting his gaze to look at you as you straddled his lap with your left eyebrow quirked. “Tell her the truth, and she won’t be mad!”

However, part of his brain decided it would get a bit more creative. The other part was screaming, “no, no, no! Don’t tell her you’re having an affair, don’t tell her you’re having an affair, don’t tell her you’re having an—”

“I’m having an affair.”

Smack!

“Ouch! Peach, that hurt!” Raymond whined, gently rubbing the side of his head where you had hit him with his lips pulled into a childish pout. “What did you do that for?” He asked, receiving his answer in the form of one of your scary glares. “Fine, fine,” he slumped forward, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “I… may have tried to scare off the raccoon in the backyard…”

Your shoulders shook slightly, prompting Raymond to lift his head to look up at you, his brows furrowed. 

“Are you... laughing?”

You quickly brought a hand up to cover your mouth for a few seconds to conceal the grin growing on your lips.”No, No. It’s just… was it the little baby raccoon in the pumpkin patch? The one I told you to leave alone last night?" You asked, lowering your hand and biting your lower lip, not bothering to hide your smile any longer. 

“It only looks innocent, Y/N. I swear to god, that fucking beast wants me dead— why are you laughing?”

Raymond could only stare with his jaw slack as you burst into a fit of giggles, tilting your head backward. He opened his mouth to protest again, but you cupped his face between your hands, puckering your lips mockingly and pressing kisses to each and every single bandaid covering the scratch marks on his face and neck.

“Oh, my poor baby! Getting his ass handed to him by a little raccoon!” You teased, pinching his cheeks and rubbing your nose against his.

“Hey! Those claws were deadly!”

Giggling again, you kissed the tip of his nose, ignoring your boyfriend’s incoherent muttering. “Oh, come here, you big baby,” you smiled, flinging your arms around him and collapsing onto the springy mattress with him. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you brushed your thumb down the slope of his nose, trailing off along his cheek and down to his jaw, making him smile. You lowered your lips onto his for a sweet kiss, breaking apart to push a strand of hair away from his face. “My hero. I love you.”

“I love you too, peach,” Raymond replied sweetly, tangling his fingers in the hair behind your head and pulling you down against him, your lips meeting for another kiss. His tongue darted out of his mouth to swipe at your bottom lip, and you gladly parted your lips to accept his tongue. Smiling against his lips, you suddenly pulled away to snort. 

“What?” He asked, his free hand rubbing up and down your back under your shirt. 

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how we’ll probably have to get you a rabies shot.”

“WHAT?”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Past Love

Content Warning: NSFW, MINORS DNI. Gender Neutral Reader, oral (male receiving), wet dream/fantasy, ghosts, no character death Request: Raymond having a wet dream a la ghostbusters blowjob scene

MASTERLIST

The first thought Raymond has when you appear before him is that he hopes your ghost is a metaphor. After all, he’s pretty sure that if you were dead, sucking his dick would be a pretty low priority on your eternal checklist.

He’s pretty sure you aren’t actually dead, but he promises himself that he’ll call to double check once you solve the tent-in-his-pants problem.

You do not hesitate to do exactly that. You are slow but efficient as you pull down the covers to reveal alien themed pajamas that always make you chuckle. (Hopefully theoretical) death is no exception.

That happy energy turns sinful the second that you wrap your hand around him and are rewarded with a high pitched whimper. Then, as if to correct himself, he goes on to produce a deep, rumbling moan.

You decide you prefer the first, but allow the second, anyway. You just want to hear more of his sounds, whatever way they might come.

Your tongue is first, running up and down the length of him while he silently thanks whatever ghostly physics mean that you are are delightfully wet as you’ve always been.

He can hear it when you finally take him into your mouth. The sounds of sloppy spit and suction; the soft, delicate moans stifled against his cock.

As you start to bob your head, he raises his hands to tangle in your hair before he stops. He looks down to see a playfulness in your eyes - a dare for him to carry on without thinking.

A dare he wants to take too much for him to let it happen.

Raymond decides that he can’t touch you. He’s too afraid that the smallest acknowledgement of your physical form will send you into a burst of light or dust or whatever ectoplasm ghosts are made from. Instead, he clings to the sheets with a white-knuckled grip.

All he can do is buck helplessly against the pillowy warmth of your willing mouth until he finally spills down your throat. Even then you continue to suck with greedy lips until there is nothing left but drool slowly dripping and pooling at the base of him.

Raymond wakes to find that the wet spot in his boxers has already gone cold. He pays it no mind, though, instead reaching to grab his phone on his bedside table.

The phone rings four times before you answer.

“What do you want, Raymond?”

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead yet.”

You sigh.

“Nope… still here.”

There is silence until he asks, “Do you want to hang out later?”

“Fine,” you grumble.

And he smiles, reassured that everything is as it’s always been.

[cutelootsuit]

if its not too much can you tell me about your ocs with the blue hair and black hair? i loooooove their designs and vibe and id love to hear more about them !!

OMG YASSS

im (in development?) writing a graphic novel called petty rituals :-) its a (suburban) gothic drama period piece with psychological horror elements

it follows two girls living in 2016 as teenagers or adolescents (they're in high school, I think senior year but I'm not sure yet). They're in a codependent homoerotic friendship (one of THOSE) and they're both dealing with different sets of familial trauma and abuse. They both are photographers and writers. they are Tumblr users, and they're also super embarrassed with anime and fanfics. Drew is the one with blue hair and she kinda the protagonist, but we also follow her best friend and crush Stella, who comes from a really religious family, Stella enjoys the occult and does rituals and casts spells and hexes on people

Petty rituals is basically 2 girls in a terribly codependent relationship and they have gay drama for a while until their relationship keeps worsening

[de4dlyniightshade]

You got any slutty Raymond hcs mama???

so many. so so many.

sub. bite me idc.

blowjob LOVER like every man likes a bj ofc but he LOVESSSSSSSSSSS bjs bcs he gets to just put his brain in your mouth and not have to think for however long he can last(not long let's be real here)

clumsy like very clumsy sex bcs he doesn't know what he's doing but he puts his heart and soul into bless him he really tries but 9/10 times it ends with you on top fucking his brains out and using him to get yourself off.

munch!!!!!!!!! not great at it but munch!!!!!!!!!! he really does try and that's all that matters until he's accidentally edging you and you just have to grab his hair and fuck his face.

biggest himbo ever, outside the bedroom and inside, has no idea what anything means, what positions are called, names for kinks, nothing, he just likes what he likes and let's you do what you want with a dopey smile on his face.

super needy like no matter where you are if he's feeling a little frisky you're gonna know abt it and he'll make sure of it, wether he's straight up telling you or not-so-subtly pressing his cock into you.

sensitive! like super super sensitive, can't handle overstimulation whatsoever, he's immediately crying and gasping and squirming away from you.

we all know he's an ass guy ofc but like he's an ASS guy like he loves eating you from the back so he can grip your ass and even bite your buttcheek when you don't expect it bcs you never let him.

on the same lines, loves grinding on your ass, even when you're both clothed, the feeling of his cock slotting perfectly between your ass just tickles his brain just right and will make him cum embarrassingly fast.

tongue. all the time. will have his tongue in your mouth any time you kiss, he just can't help it. and licking you, sexually or not he just loves licking you.

loves when you choke him with his ascot.

the ascot stays on.

i love his ascots.

backshots with you pulled against his chest.

suuuuuppppppppeeeerrrrrrr vocal like crazy loud, so much so that more often than not you have to cover his mouth just so you don't get complaints.

will let you peg him.

loves a curvy gal. and has no shame about it. will shout it from the rooftops.

[skepticalkoi-catastrophe]

❝ ❤ 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒶 🔪 ❞

Slasher oc x BlackFem!oc

⇸The following SMAU fanfic is inspired by the movie Scream, the 2015 MTV Scream TV series and fanficThe Final Girl by @ghoularaki . Comments, Reblogs, and Shares are heavily appreciated. Please enjoy ~ ♥︎

⇸ Paring - Slasher oc [@BUNII_ on Twitter] x Reader!oc

⇸ ⚠️ Warning/Genre ⚠️ Horror, slight comedy, interracial couple, slightly angst, fluff, social media au, senior high school/slasher au, character deaths ( major & minor), blood, detailed gore, eventual smut, explicit sexual themes, slow burn, strangers to friends au, friends to lovers au, childhood friends to lovers au.

⇸ Quick Sum up: ❝A rise in missing persons reports render a small town afraid and helpless. But when Ashe, the towns goody two shoes, gets thrown in the middle of copycat killing spree, an unknown contact comes to protect her from the shadows.❞

Next chapter  ➽ 

↳ Rose's Thorns ↲

Silverkeep Junior High are where his memories lay to waste. As a small fragile child from a broken home to which the warm-hearted granted amnesty, others enacted cruelties and prejudice. Despite that, she saw him as himself. With her hand outstretched she befriended him taking in all his good, his bad, and his ugly truths. His greatest light in his darkest of the dark.

Hardly a day goes by he doesn't revel in how she came to him. How she mended him, gave him a breath of life he felt he wasn't deserving of. Yet he'd done injustice to her by letting his fogged judgment aid his desperation for normalcy. His lackluster attempts at acceptance were his consequence, why he left without a goodbye. Why he watched from a distance as she crumbled to the ground of her front porch, his letter of apology, an engraved ring, and a stuffed teddy bear in her arms.

Her words rattled in his head like dice.

"You don't have to be scared anymore."

Stranger splashed water on his face, his dark uncombed hair held back with a hair tie. His rings resting on the porcelain sink while he rinses his bloody hands and prosthetic eye. Another consequence he suffered. Exiting the steamy bathroom, he sends a good morning text to Babydoll. Knowing her she's probably fast asleep.

His crime board is littered with haphazard notes and red strings crisscrossing over printed photos, articles, and newspaper clippings. Earl grey swirls in his mug as he turns on the news. Reports about forty previous kills were circulating warning residents in neighboring towns to be on watch as mandatory curfews are indefinite.

He swallowed his tea in frustration. In his mirror he stood shirtless, his black sweatpants hung at his hips and v-line. The band of his briefs read Calvin Klein. Damning as it may, his inner personal recollections forced out the beast he's become. Markings from the scolding water prove it without a doubt, Lord knows his mother would've been devastated to see him chart this path. God rest her soul.

Fossicking through his dresser he finds a shirt, a loud clink hits the floorboards below. It was a ring threatening to roll elsewhere. He quickly stomps it, kneeling to retrieve the stainless steel band. Her birth date along with the word forevermore engraved in Gothic Calligraphy.

His notification chimes as he sees Baby Doll's reply. Her choice of words earned him a placid smile slightly showing his teeth.

The stranger slips it on his right ring finger laying a kiss against it.

"In due time..."

Winding roads turned to dirt as Stranger curved beaten paths so as not to arouse suspicion from local law enforcement.

What he was doing was crazy. He knew it was a trap, he knew this was exactly what that psycho wanted but if it ment getting one step closer to saving Babydoll then he was willing to take that chance.

Stranger's jet-black Yamaha motorcycle screeches to a halt. He pops the kickstand, swinging his leg over while removing his helmet. Decrepit suburban homes hauntingly surround him, their once lively paint jobs now faded with time. The address sending chills down his spine as he stood on the brown patches of what was grass and fallen autumn leaves. 214 Hawthorne Boulevard.

He enters through the cobweb covered back window, the front door conveniently boarded up from inside. Peeling egg shell white paint resembled crepey skin of the elderly. Smashing it open with a backyard stone he vaults inside.

Stranger stalked around the hollowed interior of the first floor. To his left the living room stood motionless. Plastic covered furniture sank into the dusty floorboards. He swivels his head facing the bathroom.

Shining his light, mold sprouting on the tub walls and behind the toilet. 'up to your right' spell out on the mirror in grime.

Stranger's nerves rattled as he kept on. Towards the staircase each cautious step he took creaked underneath his weight. One step gave out, him seizing hold of the banister at that very moment.

Regaining balance he pulls his foot from the hole giving a look like thunder.

He swept the rooms, any and all lacking the life that once resided. That life an eerie ghost of who he once was.

His blood boiled getting closer until his combat boot made a small splash in a trail of crimson liquid.

It pooled, leading to a room off to the right.

Stranger's heart sank deeply, gripping the handle of his knife tightly when his posture stiffens. The door opens wide, his head stuttered like TV static. Inside there layed a dress familiar of 8th-grade prom dripping blood on the twin mattress. Candles lit aflame just at the moment he locked eyes with stuffed animals mutilated about alongside a cassette tape marked 'Track one'.

Blood-splattered white roses sat on a chair next to another note. He picked it up as his phone rang.

"I see you take a liking to my handy work. Who would've known kitten had such beautiful taste."

"You've got some nerve..." Stranger growled. "Whatever you're planning I won't stop till you're dead."

They smirks as they spoke. "I know. That's why I'm giving you clues on how to do that. And to save kitten of course."

Stranger picks up the bouquet and sees a note tucked away in the roses.

Perhaps another riddle.

"See that tape I left behind for you? It's your clue but I doubt you have a cassette player huh? I wonder who does."

"And the riddle? I didn't come all this way for nothing." Stranger jumps down their throat shoving the tape and note in his hoodie pocket. "Why lead me here then?"

They pause. "Look around. This was your childhood home wasn't it? Or it was hers at least. Have you forgotten?"

He froze, clasping his hand over his head. It goes without saying he knew. He knew he'd step into an empty shell of what once was his happy place. He'd stare at the glow in the dark spangled ceiling of her room, dance in the kitchen to her mother's old vinyls, even sitting on the porch with her during sunsets. Stranger huffed. What does it matter?

"I take it you haven't." Their tongue coated in mischief. "Use these clues to wash the blood off your hands, Cherry. Red isn't your color."

The call ends, Stranger dropping his hands to his sides. Taking the dress he flipped it over to see what's on the other side. A Printed flyer for a Halloween party.

'Babydoll's school' he thought to himself.

The flimsy paper was shoved in his pocket as he walked downstairs, avoiding the hole he left on the way up. Out the back door he walked to his motorcycle, frustration boiling with him.

A loud ping sounded from his phone. He sighs putting it in the phone mount swiping to answer.

"Babydoll this isn't a great time I-"

"Stranger please...come over. We need to talk." She stammered.

Revving the engine he pulls off. "I'm on my way."

Stranger cuts the headlights of his motorcycle parking it out of sight. Jogging towards Babydoll's house, the soles of his boots make brisk contact with the tree trunk pulling him upward.

Midnight on the dot he sat atop her roof tapping her skylight. Without street lamps, their little corner of Cali would be pitch black. The creaking of the glass catches his ear. Upon its opening Babydoll rubs her tired eyes, her lips in a cushioned pout. Her cheeks are glossy as she looks up.

"May I come in lovey?" Stranger's heart wretched, his hood obscuring his face waiting for her invitation.

Babydoll sniffles, bowing her head and stepping back clutching her midsection.

Her current state and his guilt squeezed his throat, choking him. He almost wanted to cry himself.

Swinging his legs over the windowsill drops in and removes his combat boots. Towering over her even still without the extra height Stranger placed his leather trench coat on the back of her desk chair tucking his hunter's knife away. LED lights line the ceiling on the lowest setting basking the room in muted blue. He drags along Babydoll's bedside trashcan as he sat upon her bed. More than enough snotty tissues crumpled inside it.

Her mattress dipped as Stranger handed her tissues from his back pocket. Babydoll lays down shifting so her head rests at the foot of the bed facing Stranger's lap. Feebly wiping her face her hair tucked away in a silken scarf and wearing an oversized hooded flannel.

Hesitant she whimpers. "I'm sorry you have to be here."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner." Stranger bites his tongue. "Stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong."

Stranger's hands are folded in his lap, and leaning forward, his knee bounces a bit. This was the pain he hated seeing her in. The pain that kept him on guard, vigilant.

"If you're too afraid to sleep I'll stand guard. I know that's why you wanted me here."

"I'm fine Stranger you don't have to." Babydoll objects sitting up.

"Keep telling yourself that. You don't have to be strong for me or anyone. You're hurting...just let me do this. Just let me stay."

Babydoll rolls her eyes blinking away more tears. He was outright stubborn, and wouldn't budge much like a ghost she knew in passing. She nods pointing him to her mini-fridge.

"Could you get me a bottle of water?"

Tag list- @ebonyslasher @kuromi-kouhai-blog @peachjaem00 @nastyatticman @itzgabz22 @lxstfuleclipse @strxwberry-milku @iloveslasher @luna-ashe @house-of-elves

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please comment below or dm me. I hope you enjoy ~

[tobias-hankel]

700 Followers Celebration🎉

I have no idea how all of you got here but I am sooo grateful! 🖤😁

I have never done one of these before but here we gooo

Send me an ask with one or more of the following. I am pretty slow so it might take up to a week to get your ask answered, sorry! Anons welcomed for the everyone section. ily all ❤️️🖤

Everyone:

🎵 - song recs for every letter of your name (include in ask if it’s not in your bio) but mid-2000 emo kid edition.

📚 – an ao3 CM fic rec (include pairing/trope or it will just be one of my favs)

🧠 – CM headcanon (can be specify)

⛅ - a picture of the sky that I took on my crappy iPhone 6

🧐 - ask me anything and I will answer it

Mutuals:

📺 – a gif/gif set for a specific scene or character for you to save and use without crediting me (not all gifs come out in good quality, but I will try)

✏️ - a horrible doodle of a CM character/pairing (of your choosing) drawn in Microsoft paint

☕ - A story of something odd/funny/dramatic that has happened to me

🔥 - a drabble from this prompt list or any prompt really 

Thank you too all of your lovely people that choose to follow my Criminal Minds hyperfixation, dark fanfics and mediocre gifs 😂🖤

Tagging some moots under the cut  🥰️

@soblonde1202-blog, @makaylajadewrites, @kenni-woodard, @ssa-sarahsunshine, @m0thg1rl, @black-polarf, @suburban--gothic, @spencie-adams, @sadspencer, @oliverbrnch, @spencer-reids-hands, @garcias-bitch, @goobzoop, @lilibee, @reidology, @spencers-renaissance, @honeyharreh, @xogublerxo, @iamalystark, @heavenlydevil, @sparklinspence ahhh there are so many of you lovely peoples that I want to tag but I think I will stop at 21 ❤️️

[writing-in-april]

Unsolved

Raymond Wadsworth (MGG in Suburban Gothic) x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Raymond runs into the buzzfeed unsolved duo again while investigating the same place he is, plus their cute camera operator.

A/N: Day 3 of 7 for my 500 follower celebration! This ended up in a wildly different direction then I was planning on going but I still really like this one a lot- plus it’s my first time posting for Raymond! Thank you to @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff who planted the idea into my mind 🥰 Go check out their stuff it’s amazing (Especially Between Bars it’s my favorite) ~this is also unbeta’d so sorry if there are grammar mistakes~

Warnings: A few swear words, Sexual Innuendos- Plus the lightbulb breaking over Raymond story (this is way more tame then the movie however)

Masterlist Word count: 1.0k

Working as a camera operator for Buzzfeed Unsolved was a dream come true for a young adult not that long out of college like myself. Now, I personally didn’t believe in ghosts like Ryan did, but the appeal of the show for me was being able to be surrounded by great moments in history. I got to visit some of the most famous historical landmarks, ranging from the supposedly haunted ghost town of Tombstone, Arizona to the subterranean terrors of the London Tombs. Sure- it was all under the guise of ghost hunting but even that still had its charms even if I did believe every ‘encounter’ was bullshit.

My most wild encounter at a site we were investigating didn’t come from a ghost at all, rather it came from a man named Raymond when we had been at Waverly Hills Hospital. Raymond was a paranormal investigator who was far more invested compared to our group- even more so than Ryan.

It was funny to hear Raymond’s ‘experiences’ with ghosts. Compared to what I had seen with Ryan and Shane the ‘ghosts’ that had haunted him in the past seemed rather amusing to me. However- I still did not buy his story. I was more inclined to believe that any encounters with ghosts were a figment of everyone’s imagination or a story made up for profit.

When it comes to Raymond normally I’d assume that his whole story was just to get a quick buck, I mean he did have a business based around the supernatural. But, the difference between everyone else’s stories Raymond’s seemed wildly outlandish to the point that I slightly questioned his sanity. (However, that didn’t affect how attractive I found him)

Who would make up stories like his? If they were fake it was a bold move to make his whole business based off of ghost stories that even the biggest ghost enthusiast would have a hard time believing. Even Ryan raised his eyebrows every time Raymond told another one of his tales. Either that or his story of a jizz filled light that broke above his head was really true and everything I’ve ever known or believed in was bullshit. He was a puzzle for me to solve and it was one that I wanted to solve desperately.

“So you’re telling me a light bulb exploded above you and jizzed all over you?” Shane was in disbelief at this new story that Raymond was telling us. We had run into him again when we started to investigate the Sorrel-Weed house just as we were about to enter.

“I believe you think you saw that.” I piped up to say right after Shane, it was fun to get Raymond riled up. He always tended to look down at the ground with a frustrated glare whenever we tried to disprove his theories everytime we saw him. However, even though I definitely did not believe his stories, there was still something incredibly endearing about him. The way he talked animatedly and with passion every time we had a rousing debate about the existence of the paranormal or maybe it was the fluffy curly hair that looked like a bird’s nest. Whatever it was didn’t matter- just the fact that every time I was in his presence my eyes were glued to him, hanging on to every word no matter how unbelievable they were. I couldn’t help shamelessly flirting with him this time around as well the little blush he had on his cheeks everytime that I dropped a sexual innuendo during our debate only egged me on further. When Raymond left so we could film our episode I found myself getting sad, I wanted him to stay and investigate with us.

—-

After we had investigated the place we were standing by our cars listening to Ryan talk excitedly about how he saw a ‘ghost’ in the house. My bet was that it had actually been the caretaker though there was no chance in convincing Ryan of that, though I would've given anything to see Raymond’s reaction to the ‘ghost’. I was more focused on what Shane was doing at the moment, he was leaning back giving me a funny look- one that he had been giving me the whole night for some reason.

“You like him don’t you?” He suddenly remarked to me after a brief pause in Ryan’s spiel, which also gained Ryan’s attention.

“What? Who?”A blush fell across my cheeks and the rock that I had absentmindedly been kicking was now the most interesting thing in the world. I pretended to play coy, I knew who he was referring to- I had not been exactly subtle in my flirting with Raymond today.

“Raymond- You were looking at him in like- awe the whole time he was here.” He kept pushing and Ryan concurred with his thoughts. I might as well come out and admit the fact that I liked the lanky spaz. I nodded my head in confirmation to the two of them, my blush deepening even further.

“Well- just promise that you stay a Shaniac if you ever act on your feelings, I don’t want to be outnumbered.” I snorted a little at his comment and Ryan let out a little wheeze. Maybe this would be the push I needed to act on my feelings- I was pretty sure he liked me as well as his eyes tended to light up everytime I walked into a room or I started talking with him. So why not? I already happened to have his phone number in my phone so I took a leap of faith, texting him and asking him out on a date. Maybe we could go ghost hunting.

Whether or not the Sorrel-Weed house was haunted will remain-

Unsolved. (Though Ryan would debate that)

But- Whether or not I feelings for Raymond was-

Solved.

[boldlyvoid]

Spector Spook-tacular

18+

Summary: for their first anniversary, Raymond takes his girlfriend to a cemetery for a Halloween picnic... having dinner while giving the spirits a show

Warnings: public sex, Oral sex, riding, creampies, public sex, pervy ghosts watching

word count: 1.6K

Spooky week Masterlist

For most people, a first-anniversary date is supposed to be incredibly romantic and meaningful to the couple… Y/N and Raymond met last Halloween in a graveyard while trying to hunt ghosts for their separate businesses. Raymond didn’t even know he had a rival in his industry, let alone a very sexy and tempting female ghost hunter that he couldn’t take his eyes off of— causing them to argue until the sexual tension in the room snapped like a stretched rubber band.

They ended up fucking against a tree, abandoning their hunt for ghosts for that night and eventually merging companies so they could spend more nights alone in random haunted places together.

A year later, they close up shop early on Hallows eve, even though it is their busiest day of the year. And by early, it’s midnight and he wants to take her somewhere special for the witching hour. So Raymond surprises her with a picnic basket and a smile, “happy anniversary, babe.”

“Babe,” she replies with a smirk, “I told you we didn’t need to go all out for this… it’s not even a real anniversary, we started dating officially in November…”

“I just want to go to the place where it all began,” he begs, puppy dog eyes included. She couldn’t ever say no to those big brown beauties.

“That’s one of the most haunted cemeteries in the area and you want to eat and then fuck me while all the ghosts watch?” She teases, down for anything with him but also loving how he blushes.

“Maybe we can catch them watching us this time…” he shrugs, holding up a camera along with the picnic basket.

“Oh,” she smirks slightly while biting her bottom lip. “Yeah… I think that would be good.”

—

They eat dinner by candlelight, spread out on a nice blanket as they kept their eyes out for ghosts. Most of the time, if they just asked a spirit to cross over, they would, but some of the spirits in this particular cemetery won't leave. They have a club of sorts, enjoying the company of haunting the same place and Raymond didn’t blame them… who knew what was on the other side once they did cross over.

Y/N sighed, looking at him with a growing smirk, “so we are going to fuck for them again or are you just going to look at me like that all night?”

Instead of replying, Raymond grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her forward, kissing her deeply. While Y/N was probably in the mood for a crazy hot fuck in the middle of this crowded cemetery, Raymond almost missed having regular vanilla sex that lasted a while with her.

He missed worshiping her and making her feel amazing. He missed taking his time and remembering it for the rest of the day. But October was the busiest month of the year for them and it left them with barely any time for loving.

He kissed her again, soft and sweet, drawing Y/N in and feeling her run her hands from Raymond’s cheeks to his shoulders and then down his arms. She licked his lip, asking to be let in, feeling her tongue on his, she tasted like the wine from earlier, she felt like home.

Y/N pulled back from him, sitting up again to pull her shirt off, to which Raymond ran his hands over her soft and adorably cute stomach and magnificent chest. “I love you,” he whispered, looking at her in awe.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied with a smile, walking back on her knees till she was near the end of the bed, taking the sheet with her. She placed one knee between Raymond's legs, spreading them and getting in the middle.

Raymond knew what was coming, he closed his eyes and laid his head back against the pillows. Suddenly his half-hard cock was being removed from his jeans, Y/N had wrapped her hand around it and was slowly stroking him. He could feel his foreskin moving, the light tension from the dry skin felt amazing, Y/N’s hand moved up and down, he felt all the blood in his body rush to his dick to the point it hurt to lose contact with her.

She had a wonderful, talented, wet mouth that he craved, swallowing sharply in anticipation as she engulfed the head of his cock with her mouth. He opened his mouth in response, no sound coming out as he’d had enough practise getting off quietly in his life. He could orgasm without making a sound at this point.

Y/N sunk down, the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat before she hollowed her cheeks as she sucked back up to the tip, puckering his lips and dragging them back down his length only to make his way back up with the flat of his tongue and do it all over again.

“Oh my god, you need to stop soon or I’m going to cum,” Raymond gasped, trying his hardest to keep their communication between then and not with the spirits watching them.

She stopped, looking up at Raymond through her lashes, “why? Too good?” she teased with a cheeky grin.

Raymond shook his head, he couldn't believe her. “Yeah and I want to be able to actually fuck you for our little crowd of friends that's growing,” he gestured behind her to the green figure standing in the bushes and the others all around.

She quickly sat back on her ass and allowed Raymond to help her tug her jeans and panties down, getting her to lay back on the picnic blanket so he could return the favour. Pushing himself out of his own clothes so he could fuck her as soon as she started to beg for it. Sometimes she liked to just cum once, feeling bad if he made her cum on his tongue but couldn’t follow up after he fucked her.

“Fuck,” he groans, loving being between her legs with his lips on hers… “you’re so sexy like this, showing off for everyone.”

“Shh,” she gets bashful, hiding her face in her hands.

Slowly but surely, the longer his tongue is on her pussy the more she opens up and the louder she gets. Holding his hair with one hand, cupping her breast with another, she moaned in response to his movements. “God, fuck me already baby, please?”

She sat on him as soon as she could. Raymond ran his hands over her soft thighs, he really loved Y/N’s legs and her arms and her stomach and well, her everything. He just loved her. Y/N smiled, leaning down and whispering, “it’s time to put on the main event…”

Raymond lightly moaned, soft and breathy, not very noticeable. “You are something else, babe.”

She hovered over his aching cock, “shut up and get in me already,” she ordered, guiding the head of Raymond’s cock to her entrance, slowly sitting back down and taking him all the way inside.

She normally loved the feel of the stretch, Raymond would watch in awe as she worked himself into her. This time, however, she just sat in one go, making his gasp and immediately moan when she started to rock her hips.

It felt amazing as she continued to ride him slowly, pulling off just enough to grind back against him again, and again, and again. They got into a rhythm until Y/N up on her knees enough for Raymond to go to town, thrusting up into her as he held her hips and slammed her back down.

Y/N tilted her head back, mouth open making zero noise but probably wishing she could scream the way she did at home. “Harder,” she whispered into the air.

He watched as Y/N threw her hand over her mouth while she gripped the sheets with his other hand, clearly enjoying the new sensation. Raymond had his hands on Y/N’s hips, holding her steady while driving into her with vigour.

It felt amazing, Y/N always felt fucking amazing.

He would never get tired of fucking her, or loving her… or just her. Sure she was a bit of a pain in the ass sometimes but that’s what made him love Y/N more.

He started to feel the familiar heat bubbling in his stomach, his toes curling as the pleasure got more intense. His thrusts became less frequent, he felt Y/N’s legs start to quiver, growing closer herself. Noticing all the figures in the distance, some moaning as a sort of cheer, watching in awe as they fucked in the middle of a cemetery at 3 am.

Y/N started to cum, whining into her hand, she was never quiet no matter how hard she tried. She tightened around him, the pleasure hitting peak high, sending him over the edge as well. He pulls her flush against him, wrapping his arms around her tight as he holds her there and fills her with his cum.

“Fuck. You,” Y/N whispers between breaths, resting her forehead on his shoulder and barely holding on. Completely fucked out.

“I did,” Raymond replies with a small laugh, “and I think we got all of it on camera?”

“You sure got all of it in me as well,” she shakes her head, pulling off him and letting his cum drip out onto the blanket.

“Hey, at least it’s not ectoplasm,” Raymond teases her again, leaning in for one last kiss before getting cleaned up.

“Hey babe,” Y/N whispers, getting his attention. “The red light isn’t on…”

“We forgot to hit record,” he remembers at the last second. Smacking his hand on his face, “fuck!”

“Hey,” she stops him from freaking out too much, “we can just come back every year…”

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