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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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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!)

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 2 years

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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.

#raymond wadsworth #raymond wadsworth smut #raymond wadsworth fanfic #suburban gothic #suburban gothic fanfic #suburban gothic smut #smut #mgg smut #mgg fanfic #my writing #wc: >2k #r: female #mgg

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qslovebot · 3 years

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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.

#raymond wadsworth #suburbangothic #suburban gothic fanfic #raymond wadsworth x reader #raymond wadsworth fanfic #mgg #matthewgraygubler x reader #romance #mgg fic #raymond wadsworth fluff

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writing-in-april · 3 years

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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.

#raymond wadsworth #suburban gothic fanfic #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #buzzfeed unsolved #mgg x reader #suburban gothic #mgg fanfic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfic #mgg fanfiction #raymond #raymond wadsworth fanfiction #raymond wadsworth fanfic #mgg #shane madej #ryan bergara

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

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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

#shadow posts stuff #shadow writes stuff #masterlist #raymond wadsworth #raymond wadsworth x reader #raymond wadsworth fanfic #raymond wadsworth fan fic #raymond wadsworth fanfiction #raymond wadsworth fan fiction #suburban gothic fanfic

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fandomperv · 3 years

Text

Hear ye'! Hear ye'!! I just made a taglist so feel free to add yourself to it!!!! I should be posting a lot coming soon soo, add yourself to the taglist so you'll know exactly when I post it :))

Add yourself to the taglist here

meanwhile, enjoy this gif!!

#spencerscumrag #tag list #cm taglist #cm #criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler #raymond wadsworth #wes dollface #chip taylor #chip taylor smut #raymond wadsworth smut #spencer reid fuck me challenge #fanfic #fanfic taglist

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issamhysa · 4 years

Text

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?”

#this is short i know #i'm sorry #i watched suburban gothic again and like i had to #that's it that's my excuse #suburban gothic #raymond wadsworth x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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de4dlyniightshade · 2 months

Note

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.

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.

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

Petty Pair (Raymond/F!Reader)

Summary: Reader wants to fuck Raymond to spite his father. Raymond thinks that’s really hot, actually.

A/N: This idea came into my head and literally never left. It lives rent free in my head, and I hope you feel it now, too. Couple: Raymond/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW) Content Warning: Fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, mild exhibitionism, getting caught Word Count: 5k

MASTERLIST

——————

There was a grand total of one functioning bar in this town at this hour of night. This drastic and unforgivable shortage of places for me to buy alcohol was also the only reason I found myself frequenting said bar.

After about an hour of swatting off a group of men that were objectively disgusting, I resigned myself to fate and the realization that the night would turn out no better than it would have if I hadn’t tried to get drunk on cheap liquor. I was ready to pack up, close out, and fuck off back home when it happened.

A familiar face walked through the door. Familiar, I suppose, was a stretch. I’d only seen his face in one picture – a picture I’m pretty sure was meant to be thrown away. It stuck out to me because it was the first indication that I got that Donald Wadsworth had a son. And a cute son, much less.

My brain scanned through buried memories to try and find the one where his recently divorced mother had told me his name. I knew the memory existed somewhere, surrounded under a mountain of bullshit, but it was so hard to focus when I was watching the poor kid shuffle over to the bar and plop himself down against the counter.

It had taken me that long to realize that he was wearing pajamas. Cute.

His fashion choices and bedhead paired nicely with the pout he wore when he shyly scanned the room. Altogether, everything about him assured me that he literally couldn’t have been less intimidating if he tried. That theory was further solidified by the way he shrunk against the counter when he saw me approach. By the time I sat down next to him, he’d all but disappeared under his jacket.

“Hey, you’re... Raymond, right?” The name came to me at the same time his eyes locked with mine. The dark hazel color shone almost gold in the orange hue of the bar.

“You’re Donald’s son?” I asked as warmly as possible while using his father’s name. Which is to say, not warm at all.

“Unfortunately,” Raymond droned with a similar disdain.

“I’ll say,” I chuckled as I leaned forward to match his slouch over the bar. “I work with your dad.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

That alone seemed to cause a shift in his entire demeanor. It didn’t surprise me. Most of the women in this town were brainwashed into thinking that if a guy didn’t outright assault you at first glance, he was probably a solid dude.

And Donald Wadsworth was not a solid dude.

“He’s like, a giant fucking asshole,” I said.

Raymond’s eyes lit up.

“Right?!” he shouted back, practically falling from his seat in his enthusiasm as he continued to yell, “I know!”

There was no keeping it together with this caricature of a man, but I didn’t really want to, either. In the few seconds I’d interacted with him, everything about him changed from defensive to relaxed. Like all he needed was someone to tell him that it wasn’t all in his head.

Unfortunately, I was going to need to ask something of him. But I figured he wouldn’t mind what I was going to request.

“But hey, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. I have a favor to ask you.” I kept my tone even and nonchalant, trying to avoid coming off as parental.

He eyed me as warily as I expected, tugging his drink a little bit closer as he started to shrink in on himself again.

“I’m gonna be honest,” he mumbled, “there’s not really anything I can do to hurt him that I haven’t already tried.”

There was no need for self-degradation. Raymond might have thought he tried everything, but from his body language around a woman, it was safe to assume he’d never tried my plan.

“Wanna bet?”

Raymond sighed in surrender before he shrugged, “Sure. What’s the favor?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

It wasn’t my intention to wait until the drink was in his mouth before I spoke, but it was how it ended up happening. And almost instantaneously, he spat the drink out over the bar before calmly squeaking, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I want to have sex with you,” I repeated like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then I sought confirmation that was only a little important in the grand scheme of things. “You’re staying at his place, right?”

“Just for tonight, yeah—" he started, but all I heard was the ding of a checkmark on my mental list that meant we were cleared for the next step.

“Great. We should do it there, then. Tonight.”

Raymond’s tongue stuck out from between his teeth, the visual of restraint matching his narrowed, shifty eyes and fidgety legs.

“I feel like I’m missing something...” he muttered.

I heard him, but I didn’t really care. The clock was running, and I was ready to get something good out of this night. Possibly even two good things, if he ended up being as helpful as his cute, submissive demeanor implied.

“I’ll drive. You want to go now?”

“I— I mean, sure, yeah,” he stumbled over the words and his own feet as he left the bar. “We can… go have sex.”

I laughed at how cool he tried to sound because he definitely failed. I reached past him to drop cash on the bar and grabbed his hand on the way back. The amount of warmth stormed it in was shocking, considering all the blood seemed to be in his face, ears, and the tent in his pants. But the comfort of his fingers interlocking with mine on instinct did more for me than he knew.

“Great. Let’s go.”

Raymond was silent on the way out and into the car, which was about what I expected from him. Every glance his way would show the gears slowly turning in his head, like he was still trying to grasp whether my proposition was serious. Like I was trying to murder him or something.

When the car started, so did some sliver of confidence in him, although he still cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you need directions, or…?”

“No, I’ve been to his place before.”

That caution and suspicion returned and multiplied, and before I even pulled out of the parking lot he had shrugged down in the seat and buried his face in his hands.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck my dad,” he whined in the most dramatic manner possible.

I couldn’t blame him for the theatrics, although the implication was not at all appreciated.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” I spat, my face curling into a pure expression of disgust. At least we both felt similarly on that note.

“Thank god.” The relief flowed through him, allowing him to sit back up to his previously half-straight position. I decided that it was probably best to cut him some slack for assuming I would ever fuck that devil of a man, because I got the sinking suspicion that he might have known a couple girls his age that had done exactly that.

That thought led me back to the very reason I was there at all, and a chill ran down my spine as I muttered without thinking, “Wasn’t for a lack of his trying, though.”

The whole tone in the car shifted in seconds. One glance over at Raymond confirmed the repressed rage and sadness rolling off of him in waves that were more accurately described as a tsunami.

It was just unsettling enough that I snapped my eyes back to the road, giving a nervous chuckle to tell him that it wasn’t that serious. I didn’t need him to defend my honor, or anything. It did enough to quell most of the rage, but that self-pitying sadness was still there when he let out a shy, quiet plea.

“I don’t want to pry but… Will you tell me what this is about?”

“You really want to know?”

It was one thing to know the vague generalities of how much his father sucked, but another thing entirely to paint him a vivid depiction of what he was willing to do.

“Yeah,” he said with fiddling hands, “I think.”

I think he was trying to do me a favor. I think listening to my story was meant to be a sign to me that there were people who would care — people who would believe me. He clearly didn’t actually want to hear the story, but I appreciated his willingness to experience some discomfort to make up just a small part of his father’s misdeeds.

“So, I’m new at the school, right? It’s awkward. It’s a small town and everyone knows everyone,” I started, trying to look over at Raymond whenever I could to show him that I was doing alright. The poor thing looked like he needed the reassurance more than I did.

“Your dad very quickly tried to take me under his wing, despite my very obvious discomfort.”

“Sounds like him,” he interrupted with a pissed-off murmur.

“Yeah. I just kind of accepted his help because I was too scared to say no, but then one day he…” My voice trailed off, the words getting clogged in my throat and muddled on my tongue. It wasn’t that bad of a story; it should have been easier to explain. But something about Raymond being there, him listening to me so intently and with such a strong desire to make it better, that made it hard to speak. Eventually, I managed to start again. “He cornered me in the damn teacher’s lounge and—“

“Please don’t give me a reason to kill him. I’ve been toeing that line my whole life, and I will definitely do it.”

That time when Raymond cut me off, it was very clear to me that he was not kidding. He enunciated the words so clearly, venom dripping from his tongue and his chest heaving with a determination coming through clear, despite his best efforts to hide it.

He was a sweet kid.

“He didn’t try to touch me or anything. It wasn’t like that,” I said with an awkward smile, reaching over to pat his thigh. The action alone seemed to calm him, almost like a dog that was being told to stand down.

He was a really cute kid.

But I had to finish this stupid story. I had to give him all the information so that he would know exactly why I’d invited myself into his bed. Sex is sort of a big deal, you know? I mean, not always, but the other party in spite sex should probably know who exactly the target is.

“He just made it very clear that he felt I owed him something, and I kindly told him to fuck off,” I concluded just as we pulled up the dirt drive. The bumps in the road seemed to shake some other memories in Raymond, and he just shook his head to rid himself of those, along with the story he’d just heard.

He looked over at me with a new understanding and something else.

“So that’s what this is about?”

“Yep,” I said with a pop of my lips to match the sound of my car door opening. He clambered out of the car much less gracefully, which was funny considering he’d had significantly less to drink.

But I figured I would have the decency not to laugh, instead just joining him on the passenger side of the car to finish our conversation before we went inside. I wanted to give him the chance to change his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Although I was the one who would have to deal with the brunt of the downfall, Donald wasn’t my family. Like, I wouldn’t be at his holiday dinners. Then again, I’m not sure Raymond would be, either.

When I looked up from the thought, Raymond was staring at me. It wasn’t like before, though. There was nothing suspicious or any sign of concern in his eyes. No, they were filled with a very different feeling.

“You want to fuck me just to spite my dad?” he asked with a deadly seriousness.

I thought about it for exactly one second before I shrugged at the extremely accurate summary.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“God,” Raymond practically groaned, throwing himself on me and pinning me against the car with his hips before he growled, “that’s so fucking hot.”

Those same lips that produced the words quickly covered mine with the same force he’d used to pin me against the metal. I didn’t fight him at first because, well, I didn’t want to. It was the first clear sign he’d given that he really wanted to do this, and who was I to argue with how he expressed his consent?

Also, he was like, a really, really good kisser. The desperation he felt came through in his tongue as it tangled with mine, drawing a quiet, muffled moan from me that alerted me to how quickly this would escalate if I didn’t shove the boy off me.

Which, I did.

“Raymond— inside,” I ordered with the little breath I had left.

He was confused for a second, almost like he’d blacked out in the meantime. But then his tongue swept over his lips, his hands digging through his pockets for his keys before he hastily answered, “Right. Let’s go.”

It made sense to be quiet then, as the two of us tip-toed through the much too large house. Our occasional giggles were louder than our feet, and the whole experience was seriously reminiscent of sneaking into your boyfriend’s house as a teenager. And when we walked through his bedroom door, the sight stirred up even older memories. From the UFO poster and alien sheets to the boxes filled with dinosaur toys and action figures, I felt like I’d walked straight through a time machine into Raymond’s childhood.

“Sorry about… all of this,” he said with an overly apologetic tone, like this scene didn’t perfectly suit what I was planning. Like it wouldn’t be salt in the wound for Donald to see me fucking his son in the most juvenile room I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Ugh, it’s perfect. You are literally a man-child.”

I didn’t mean it as an insult, but his nervous shifting told me he took it that way. But when I kicked off my shoes and started to disrobe my outer layers, it was becoming obvious to him again just how serious I was about this whole thing.

“Sorry, but—“

“Stop saying sorry, Raymond.”

“Sorry,” he squeaked back, doing the exact thing I’d just told him not to do. I shot him a warning glance and watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in return. Then, still worrying the hem of his pajama shirt between his fingers, he looked away as he asked, “Are you sure you actually want to have sex with me?”

I was a little too busy at first to answer him. I was already rustling through the bedside table to find a condom that I was absolutely positive would be there. When I finally found it, I turned my attention back to the blushing boy.

“Why are you asking? Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes!” he answered with a clear excitement, only to lose it immediately. “But I would have wanted to have sex with you even if my dad wasn’t a pervert.”

“Awww, thanks,” I cooed with feigned sincerity. Raymond was still just pouting, though. I was learning more each second just how starved of affirmation this boy had been. But it wasn’t like I could just start praising him; the poor thing would have whiplash if I wasn’t careful. There was no worse mood-killer than crying, either, so I settled for a joke.

“I’d probably have sex with you, too.”

“Probably?” he responded with a smile and a seat next to me.

“It’s pretty likely, depending on how much we talked first,” I explained as I helped him out of his coat. I even managed to start undoing his pajama top buttons before he realized it was happening.

He didn’t stop me when he did.

“I don’t know if that’s an insult or not,” he said, instead.

With a coquettish grin, I leaned in to whisper against his lips, “And you never will.”

There was absolutely no resistance from Raymond when I grabbed hold of his collar, tugging him on top of me as I laid down on the tiny twin bed. Despite all of his insecurity, he didn’t hesitate to kiss me again, either. This time it was somehow even more heated, like he was trying to pour all of his heart into it.

I almost warned him that he had better cool it if he didn’t want to risk getting me hooked, but I was too late. He was already busy undoing the buttons on my own top and gently kneading my chest through the fabric of my bra, and I was quickly losing track of which of us was more into what was happening.

It didn’t really matter, but just in case he was still worried that I might not want to be there, I snuck my hand down and under the waistband of his pajamas.

“Fuck!” he cursed in a hushed whisper, his body buckling forward far enough that he almost dropped all his weight on me. It was so damn cute that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t be too loud or we’ll never get to the fun part,” I warned, my voice barely a whisper in his ear.

His very eloquent response was a breathless, “Shit.” I couldn’t blame him, though. It was honestly more than I expected him to be able to enunciate when I grabbed hold of his dick and began making soft strokes.

It was obvious that he was trying very hard to stay quiet, but the whimpers and whines were falling from his mouth so quickly that I was forced to kiss him just to muffle the noise. Thankfully, Raymond took the hint that he needed to be quiet and decided to redirect the attention from himself back to me. He accomplished that task by pulling away from me just far enough that he could grab hold of my pants and underwear and roughly pull them down my thighs. The speed and force lit a fire deep in my gut, my whole body breaking out in goosebumps as I allowed myself to enjoy just how badly he wanted me. I’m sure the spite thing had a lot to do with it, too, but it had been a long time since a man was so clearly into me. It was an unavoidable conclusion in every touch from him.

A much-too-loud moan caught in my throat when he returned, slipping his fingers into my heat as he laid another feverish kiss against my lips. But it broke almost immediately with his own choked moan, followed by a low, breathy observation.

“You weren’t kidding about wanting this.”

“Nope,” I replied quickly, trying to control the noises coming out of my mouth by replacing them with words. It only sort of worked when I keened, “Fuck, you’re better at this than I thought.”

Raymond didn’t even stop, continuing to curl his fingers inside of me with each thrust. He did smile, though. A cheeky, borderline annoying smile that told me he knew what a bastard he was being.

“Again, I can’t tell if that is a compliment,” he said with an overwhelming amount of sarcasm as he watched me squirm under him.

I chose to ignore the taunt, opting to grab the condom from the bedside table and throw it directly at his face instead. “Put the fucking condom on, Raymond.”

There was less commentary from the peanut gallery from that point on. I did enjoy the show, though. As I removed my bra, I watched with rapt fascination as he stripped himself of his clothes. My desire grew at an exponential rate at the sight of him slipping the condom on. I’d gotten some idea of the size of him with my hand, but to see something so lewd in such an innocent room and on his shy little figure was something else.

Raymond shrunk a little under my gaze, only regaining his confidence when he saw the way my teeth dragged over my bottom lip. I ran my hands over my body that was still on display for him, thoroughly enjoying the way I could make his eyes go wherever I wanted with such a simple motion.

“Fuck me, Raymond.”

I heard his breath catch and watched the shiver flow through him at the order. Sure enough, he started to follow my instructions and lined himself up at my entrance with adorably shaky hands. But then, right before I got what I came for, he paused.

“Are you su—“

I was tired of waiting. Hooking my leg around his waist, I forced Raymond to thrust forward. My assistance didn’t take any of the pleasure out of it when he was finally, fully inside of me. I couldn’t stop the way my back arched, pressing my chest against his with a wanton cry.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled into my hair, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he adjusted to the new set of sensations.

I only gave him a few seconds to get used to it, fully ready to get the release that already felt so close.

“Fuck me,” I whined, already starting to roll my hips against the boy blubbering curses into my skin.

“O-Okay,” he muttered in the most adorable fashion.

That shyness was contrasted strongly by what followed. For all his whimpers and trembling, Raymond didn’t seem to mind the way the bed would creak under us. In fact, it seemed that he was playing his own game, trying to elicit as many noises from me as he could get from the bed.

On instinct, my hands rose to try to still the headboard. But to my surprise, they never made it. The man above me had grabbed hold of one wrist, pinning it against the pillow to stop me. That simple, thoughtful act was enough to almost send me over the edge right then, but I held on for what I knew would come.

My moans were another story. They seemed so inevitable, with Raymond slamming into me with a progressively rougher force until I rode that line between pain and pleasure. I could see it on his face, too, that we were barreling full speed to the inevitable.

So, it was as good a time as any for me to set the next step in motion. With full volume and a pitch nearly an octave higher than usual, I screamed, “Yes, Raymond!”

That cheeky little bastard laughed. That noise was such music to my ears, that I couldn’t just stop there.

“God, yes! Fuck me harder!” I cried dramatically while drawing out the words. In a way, I was over exaggerating for effect, but I was also actually having a great time. In fact, it was the best sex I’d had in a long time.

Raymond, catching on to the plan that I’d never explicitly explained, joined in with his own chant of my name, mixed with deep moans rumbling in his chest. I ran my nails down his back, seeking to elicit the higher pitched sounds I knew he was capable of when I realized just how much fun I was having with him.

It was also, of course, super fucking hot. But how often do you get to have this much fun with a random one night stand you found at the bar? Not often enough, I decided.

“Please, Raymond! Harder!” I begged, both in accordance with my previous moans and also because it was what I needed.

I couldn’t decide on a word to describe that wild look on his face, but Raymond had no problem following through with my request. Releasing my wrist, he sat up on his knees, grabbing hold of my hips and lifting them so that he could come down between them at a new angle.

That angle, it seemed, left him bottoming out inside of me with each brutal thrust. My legs were actually shaking around him, my back barely touching the bed as I threw my head back on that damn alien pillowcase.

The clacking of the headboard against the plaster shook the hung UFO picture, which ended up clattering behind it with about as much grace and subtlety as Raymond and I shared in that moment.

But that crashing also masked the sound of the door slamming open, just as I’d been waiting for. And for a long moment, neither of us even looked over to the light filtering in from the hallway. Instead, we locked eyes with each other as the two of us simultaneously reached our peak.

I was so, so glad that I didn’t look away. I kept my eyes firmly on Raymond as he threw his head back, forcing himself as deep in me as he could and holding me against him as I nursed him through his orgasm with my own. His mouth, though dropped open, was curved in a satisfied smile, one last moan tearing through the two of us before he promptly collapsed on top of me.

Then, it finally came. Donald’s voice bellowing, “What the fuck is going on in here?!”

—

As Raymond and I sat in my car that night, there was a much more relaxed atmosphere. Whether the catharsis was from the sex or the big fuck you to his father, the two of us were just basking in the afterglow of the overall experience.

Of course, he was also laughing at the fact I was currently wrapped up in his alien bedsheet.

“We could’ve gotten your clothes, you know.”

“There was no way in hell I was going to drop this sheet in front of that man,” I said through my laughter, my mind replaying the chaos of the last few minutes over again in my head.

“Probably a good call,” Raymond answered.

But then another thought occurred to me, which caused my face to contort into a disgusted grimace.

“You’d better go get my underwear and bra later, though. He cannot keep those.”

“Will do. Promise,” he said with a little nod that ended with him staring at me with an absolutely smitten look plastered on his face.

“You can keep them, though,” I offered, reaching over and pretending like I could actually fix the birds nest on his head.

“Thanks. I’m flattered,” he said while chasing after my hand that eventually settled on his cheek. His face was still flushed, his eyes still only half opened as he nearly fell asleep against my palm. I wondered if it was from the orgasm, or if it was just the first time in a while he’d felt safe enough to do it. He must’ve seen the worry in my eyes, because he interrupted the thought with another question.

“Did you accomplish your goal?”

I thought about it for a second, dragging my fingers down his face before I pulled back with a sigh. “I feel satisfied,” I decided. “What about you?”

Raymond also took the chance to think about it before he nodded with more enthusiasm than before.

“I feel pretty good,” he said proudly.

“That’s all? Just pretty good?” I replied with an annoyed click of my tongue. I mean, I was wrapped in his bedsheets after just helping him achieve one of the most satisfying catharses of his life, and all he had to say was ‘pretty good?’

But then I saw it, that little sparkle in his eyes that showed me he just wanted to rile me up before he gave his real answer.

“It was fucking glorious.”

It wasn’t even the words that filled my heart with pride, but the way his whole expression softened as he said it. He obviously meant it with every fiber of his being, and I couldn’t help but fall in love a little bit at the sight.

“Sorry I got you kicked out,” I said to distract myself from that dangerous line of thought.

“Not the first time. Hopefully the last,” he nonchalantly shrugged as I turned the key in the ignition. We hadn’t actually planned on what to do from this point, but I certainly had some ideas.

“You can stay at my place,” I slurred through my exhaustion, “I have a guest bedroom if you feel weird staying in mine.”

But Raymond didn’t answer. He just laughed, shaking his head and rubbing a heavy hand over his tired eyes.

“What?” I asked, a little worried I’d made a mistake.

“Nothing,” he reassured with that stupid fucking grin that was soon aimed straight at me, “it’s just… You’re asking me if I want to sleep with you. Again.”

“Yeah, what about it?” I laughed, turning to pull out of the driveway. The bumps didn’t bother Raymond that time.

“I’d love to,” he said as we turned onto the main road, his hand finding mine on the gear shift.

“Great.” Allowing the relief to flow through his hand and into me, I realized that the reason I’d had so much fun with this random one night stand was because a large part of me knew it was never going to be just that.

“You know, my bed’s not a twin, and it doesn’t creak, so…” I trailed off, hoping that he would be clever enough to put it together.

“So what?”

He was not. But that was okay, because I realized that was exactly what I loved about him.

“Never mind,” I sighed, “I’ll show you in the morning.”

——————————————————

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Phantasmagoria

(Raymond Fic)

Summary: Raymond is pretty sure that the girl he spent the night with was not of this world. A/N: This is labeled as smut, but it’s really just sort of funny. Couple: Raymond/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (NSFW) Content Warning: Allusions/Flashbacks to penetrative sex Word Count: 3k

MASTERLIST

But I couldn’t not think about her. Maybe it was just the fact that I hadn’t had sex in ages, but there was something about the experience I'd had the night before that I just couldn’t shake. It didn’t make any rational sense — nothing about the sex had been different from sex with any other girl who had been unfortunate enough to fuck me. And yet, every time I so much as blinked, my vision was wracked with images of her.

Just then, I’d flashed back to the way her jaw had dropped open as a loud, desperate moan fell from her lips. Her hands had been splayed on my chest as she straddled me, only barely keeping her balance as her hips rolled with impossible precision each time. She was so unbelievably fucking beautiful, it hurt to think about her for too long.

I could hear her, though, a siren calling out to me from my own memory with a raspy voice. Her vocal cords had been practically shredded from the constant use, but she never stopped. Every time she slowed down, I'd grabbed her hips and brought them down harder just to see her response. She'd never disappointed me.

Her skin had felt like velvet, but even that was nothing compared to the way it had felt when I was inside her. It was probably just my mind playing tricks on me, wishful thinking to convince myself that I deserved to fuck her in the first place, but I swore I could remember her coming on my dick while she rode me. And I definitely, definitely remember what it felt like when I finished. Not just because it was seriously the best orgasm I’d ever experienced in my life, but because she'd reacted to it like she could feel it herself. Like she got off on the mere idea of giving me pleasure.

To summarize, I'd found the perfect woman the night before, and I couldn’t remember her name. Even worse, I was pretty sure she was dead.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

The question brought me back to reality, albeit briefly. I considered taping my eyes open to stop the images from returning for a minute, but I also wasn’t convinced it would stop them.

“Yes. I mean, no. I don’t know,” I sighed, rubbing a tired hand over my aching temple. “I’m sorry, I’m just distracted. There was this girl at the party last night and—“

“Stop. A girl? Who?” He asked.

I tried to pretend like his incredulity wasn’t insulting. Of course, it looked even worse for me when I had to give my answer.

“I... don’t know her name.”

“You don’t know her name?” There was a slight chuckle when he asked that time.

I wasn’t laughing, though. In fact, the frustrated groan that rumbled through me was pretty much the exact opposite of laughter. Then when I spoke, it was through a whine. “No, and I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s driving me insane.”

“That good, huh?” He said with a little grin that assured me he was missing the point. Granted, I could hardly explain to myself what had happened, much less another person.

“No, it’s not that. I mean, she was great!” The hand that had been massaging my temple moved to cover my face from the somewhat embarrassing admission. I sounded like an idiot in love with a one night stand. “She was amazing, actually. That’s part of what’s freaking me out.”

“What’d she look like?”

At first, I was convinced he was just trying to disprove her existence altogether, but then I waved that worry away. I mean, I was trying to prove to myself she didn’t actually exist, so we were already on the same team.

“I’ve never seen her before. She’s definitely not from around here.” The perks of a small town.

“She’s probably just visiting,” he shrugged. Like there could ever be such an easy explanation when it came to me.

Maybe he was right. But my brain was telling me he wasn’t. There was simply no way she was real. I could still remember the feeling of her in my arms, and I'd smelled her perfume as I drifted to sleep. But when I woke up, my arms had been empty, and the sheets had been cold. Although I could still smell her on the pillow, even that quickly faded.

“I don’t know, something felt off about it,” I explained solemnly, “This morning when I woke up there was like… no evidence she was ever there.”

During my emotional breakdown regarding the death of the perfect woman, my friend had apparently figured out my theory.

“Are you trying to tell me that you think you fucked a ghost?”

He was not amused.

“I don’t think I fucked a ghost, man, I did fuck a ghost!” I shouted back in a poor attempt at a whisper. His laughter quickly followed, which did not help me feel any less insane. I still believed in my theory, though. There was no way not to.

“You’ve fucking lost it,” he mumbled with a shake of his head.

“Listen, you know I can see ghosts. You know I can interact with ghosts. Why is it so crazy to think that I could fuck a ghost?”

He gave me that little shake of his head that people always did when they halfway believed me. Over the course of our friendship, enough had happened that he couldn’t ignore it, but he wasn’t entirely sold on the supernatural yet. Or, at least, he wasn’t sold that I wasn’t just an idiot.

“Because you were blackout wasted, dude. It was probably just some ugly bitch from the party and your brain is trying to protect you.”

A theory that I had not considered. It only took me one blink to realize he was wrong, though. “That’s the thing! She wasn’t ugly at all!” That time my shout wasn’t hushed at all. A few people turned to me in the cafe, but their giggles didn’t bother me. If they had seen her, they would think she was worth shouting about, too. “She was like… the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen! Way too hot to want to fuck me!”

“So you got lucky,” he objected.

“You’re not listening to me.”

I saw it on his face, the logic and the skepticism going back and forth just like his head as it lolled to the sides in contemplation. When his brows furrowed, I thought I might finally have won, but then he just cringed.

“Aren’t ghosts like… cold?”

“She definitely wasn’t cold. It felt like I was on fire when she touched me,” I enthusiastically answered.

He chuckled a little bit, but he at least continued to entertain my concerns. “Did she look dead? Like how would she have died?”

“Okay so that’s what I was trying to figure out. I couldn’t see anything on her but she had this big ribbon around her neck and—“

“Stop.” He interjected, preventing me from finishing my very promising argument as well as the reminder that ghosts didn’t always have to look dead. Still, I begrudgingly followed the instruction. “… Are you about to talk about that Shel Silverstein story about the woman who held her head on by a ribbon?”

“First of all, it’s Alvin Schwartz.” I corrected with a hand in the air to signal my offense, “Second, if you were a ghost, wouldn’t you want to hide your decapitated head?”

My friend shook his head, but that action, paired with my words, only furthered my thoughts on the conspiracy. I gasped as I added, “What if she heard the story and that’s where she got the idea?”

“Or, get this, she was wearing a costume… and it included a ribbon.”

All the talk about the ribbon got me thinking, and the more I thought about her, the clearer the memories became. Of course, I couldn’t guarantee that I wasn’t just making them up as I went along, but there was one part that seemed rather vivid.

“She kept trying to get me to touch her neck!” I said, bringing my hand to my own neck to demonstrate. All it got me was a disapproving roll of the eyes.

“So she wore a ribbon for a costume, and she’s freaky,” he droned.

“Or she was trying to scare me!”

“You’ve definitely lost it.”

And apparently, that was meant to be the end of both the conversation and the cafe excursion, because he promptly stood up from the table without another word. Naturally, I followed, continuing my argument with an enthusiasm that strongly contrasted his growing disinterest.

“Why would I make this up?!” I shouted, not even pretending to whisper anymore as we exited the outdoor seating.

Unfortunately, he followed my lead, speaking back just as loudly as he said, “Fine, then did you use a condom?”

A normal person might have felt at least a little bit of shame, but I guess I had never really been normal. Instead, the question just stumped me. “I don’t know, why?” I mumbled with waning confidence.

“Did you wake up glued to your sheets?” He said with a completely unnecessary gesture over his crotch.

“No…”

“Okay, so where did it go, then?”

I sighed. Not because the question made me realize anything, but rather because the question brought up a number of unpleasant memories not at all related to the night before. “I didn’t think about it, but listen, I also don’t really want to get into ghosts’ ability to manipulate semen, okay?” I whined, and when his face scrunched in confusion, I shook my head in response. “Don’t ask.”

That was the mortifying end to an exhausting conversation. I wish I could say that we simply parted ways or changed topics, but that wasn’t what happened.

No, as I leaned on the metal fence closing in the seating we’d literally just left, I felt a brief tap on my shoulder. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as a cold chill ran down my spine, and before I could even turn around, two syllables crashed into me like the cymbals wielded by those terrifying monkey toys.

“Raymond?”

Slowly, I turned to see the girl from the night before, staring back at me with those hauntingly beautiful eyes.

And I fucking screamed.

Her hand jerked back. With wide eyes and a confused, awkward smile, she turned to my friend who was already trying to find a way out of this conversation that hadn’t even started.

“Is he okay?” She asked in a whisper, like I wasn’t even there.

In a way, it felt like I wasn’t. It felt like I was a third person viewing the train wreck of an interaction from some safe location.

“Absolutely not,” my friend answered for me. I would have been mad if it hadn't also been true in the moment. Thankfully, he immediately turned to leave. “I’ll... let you two talk.”

I was grateful he wouldn’t witness any more of my humiliation, but also petrified at the realization that I had literally no idea how to talk to this woman. So, naturally, she spoke first.

“Well, you certainly know how to flatter a girl.”

She shifted as she spoke, and in doing so, she successfully captured my attention... As if I hadn't been laser-focused on her before. But then my thoughts were lost with the way her hands came up to fix the scarf that hung haphazardly around her neck.

When I didn’t respond, she continued, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to apologize for running off so early. I was in a bit of a rush and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

But her voice was so beautiful that I still couldn’t focus. There was an unsteady crackle that ran through it, and I wondered if it was always like that or if it was just the result of her wearing out her vocal cords with the moans playing on loop in my brain.

“Oh. Right. It’s fine,” I grumbled, running my hand through my hair that was still messy from her grip on it. She must have seen me reliving the memory, because she smiled at the gesture.

“I had fun though. I’m hoping the scream wasn’t indicating that you didn’t...”

“No! No, not at all!” I practically shrieked, which thankfully earned a laugh that seemed to be shared with me rather than aimed at me. I’m pretty used to recognizing the second one. But like I said, by all accounts, she was the perfect woman.

“I just… wasn’t expecting to see you.” It was the vaguest way I could explain my thoughts without lying or stating my theory that I still wasn’t entirely sure was wrong.

“Yeah, I kind of got that feeling,” she whispered with a shy glance down to her feet. It was cute for a total of five seconds before she made eye contact again. A smirk had spread over her features as she took a step closer to the fence separating us. “I mean, it’s not like you thought I was a ghost or something, did you?”

“… No?”

What else could I say? She clearly already knew. I had told her, and everyone else in the vicinity.

“Right.” She wore a tight, smug little smile as she cleared her throat. “You did use a condom, by the way.”

Mortifying. But somehow, she still made it seem lighthearted. Probably the first woman who didn’t ridicule me into silence. The perfect woman, who had heard me explaining how she was simply too sexy and too interested in me to exist. The woman I had compared to a literal dead person.

“Oh, good,” I squeaked, “I’m glad you heard that, too.”

“Sure did. Do you want me to take off my scarf and let my head fall off?” She grabbed both ends of her scarf, tugging on them and dropping her head to the side and sticking her tongue out.

“Funny.” It actually was.

“I’ve been dying to tell that joke, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.”

She was seriously the only person who could make those puns bearable. Only barely, but I gave her credit for that.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my humiliation,” I mumbled while staring at our feet. I was afraid that if I looked her in the eyes, I’d get lost again.

“I’m just kidding. It’s flattering, really,” she reassured me. My plan to avoid looking at her didn’t work. Not only did it fail to prevent me from losing myself in her, it didn’t last long at all. In fact, I was already looking back at her when she spoke again. “I’ve never had a guy tell me that I’m otherworldly.”

“They should. You are.”

For the first time in the conversation, I had the upper hand. Her features softened so quickly at the blatant compliment; she almost looked bashful. It seemed insane to me that she wouldn’t be used to it by now, but if that were the case, I was happy to make up for all the men who had failed to tell her before.

The shyness faded quickly, or at least the appearance of it did. She was confident when she spoke next.

“Well, maybe next time I’ll show you what skills I have when I’m sober.”

“There’s more?” I asked with a dropped jaw that I hoped she would find charming and not stupid. Judging by her laugh, it was probably a mixture of the two.

“Oh yeah,” she said, and I realized it didn’t matter which it was. I just wanted to hear her laugh again.

“I’d really like that, yeah.”

“Great! Then I’ll see you around,” she concluded, swiftly turning fast enough that the wind caught her perfume. It was exactly as I remembered from when I'd woken up hugging my pillow instead of her.

Following her lead, I also turned to walk away and join my friend. But then I realized a small flaw in the plan and froze.

“Wait!” I shouted, causing several people to look up at me for the umpteenth time that morning. I didn’t care, because one of them was her. “How will I find you?”

“You have my number, Raymond.” She held up her phone, then scrunched up her face in a silly grin. “How do you think I remembered your name?”

I scrambled to pull out my phone, clicking rapidly to open the texts and receive the confirmation of her existence before she vanished from my sight forever. But sure enough, there was a text from a contact named “(Y/n).” The content was just a picture of the two of us, obviously drunk but also obviously happy.

“Right,” I muttered, wishing I could remember more. But then I looked up and saw she was smiling back at me, and I let out a sigh of relief at the prospect of opportunities to make numerous better memories.

“It was nice seeing you!” I called out to her as I started to walk backwards away from her and almost wiped out in the middle of the sidewalk.

She shook her head, but then finally called back, “You too, boo.”

As she walked into the building, my brain took her absence as its first chance to decompress. I tried to sort all the feelings raging inside my heart while also trying to recall every detail of what had just happened.

Beside me, my friend let out a low, “Wow.”

“I know,” I said, thinking it needed no further explanation. He gave it, anyway.

“She really is way out of your league.”

“I know,” I repeated with a lovesick grin.

“She might be a ghost, man.”

“… I know,” I sighed. “I know.”

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

#raymond wadsworth #suburban gothic #suburban gothic fanfic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfic #mgg fanfic #mgg fanfiction #raymond wadsworth fanfic #raymond wadsworth fanfiction

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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Hot Cocoa & Cuddles by @reidgraygubler: Reader is freezing while they’re working on a case in Alaska. Spencer has some fun facts about body temperatures and conserving body heat

Side Effects Might Vary by @specialagentsergio: An unexpected side effect brings you and Spencer closer—literally—when he’s prescribed a medication to help relieve his chronic nightmares.

It Can Wait Till Morning by @broken-stardust: Derek realizes that Spencer and Reader aren’t going to confess their feelings to each other, so he puts them in a situation where they’ll be forced to.

Atlas by @spectaclespencer: After getting shot Spencer is on bedrest, and begs Reader to stay with him just a little while longer.

Female Reader

Alcohols and Coffee by @strawberryspence: Spencer just really wants to date you and the alcohol finally gives him the courage to ask you out.

Malade by @spencerreidat3am: Being sick means a visit from the doctor.

Assorted SFW Fics

Will You Remember by @nerdyfangirl67 (Hotch, GN!Reader): Reader is a little tipsy/drunk. Character (Hotch) takes them to their apartment. Reader insists they sleep in the same bed.

Capture my Heart by @fortheloveofcriminalminds (Ralvez): Spencer Reid isn’t a big drinker. A night at Rossi’s and one bed makes him realise drinking isn’t all bad if it means he ends up in Luke’s arms.

The Warmest Hour by @lollipopgal (Franklin, GN!Reader): Reader and Franklin hate each other, but the heater is broken and it’s freezing.

Take Care by @reidgraygubler (Lesley, GN!Reader): Lesley takes care of reader after they had too much to drink

NSFW Spencer Fics

Female Reader

Morning Glory by me: Spencer goes into way too much detail about nocturnal penile tumescence (or morning wood, or morning glory, or whatever pejorative you prefer).

Get Lucky by me: The fire alarm in your apartment building goes off at 3AM after a pipe bursts. You only (barely) know the FBI agent who lives in the building, but he offers to share a hotel room, with you.

Homecoming in Vegas by @andiebeaword: Spencer gets an invitation to his 25th High School Reunion. Reader volunteers herself to accompany him.

Rough Night by @andiebeaword: Person A checks into hotel for the night. Person B has been driving all night and stops and checks in. Problem is….A is already in said room.

Assorted NSFW Fics

Demons by @emberfrostlovesloki (Hotch, Fem!Reader) : The team is forced into very close quarters during a case in Alaska. A mix-up in rooms has Aaron and Reader closer than ever.

Damsel by me (Kyle Orfman, Fem!Reader): You find a group to stick with in the zombie apocalypse, and Kyle is the only one with a bed big enough for two people.

Multiply by @reidgraygubler (Kyle Orfman, Fem!Reader): After narrowly escaping her grandmother eating her, Reader is on her own to find other civilization. The Orfman family takes her in. Reader and Kyle share a special bond.

Teen Dream by @kirencer (Chip Taylor, GN!AFAB!Reader): Chip’s not an idiot. He’s just a bit blind. Especially when it comes to the blatant feelings that Reader has for him.

Ruin It by @boldlyvoid (Spencer/Ethan): Spencer never had sleepovers as a kid, so now that he’s an adult he’s always sleeping over at Ethan’s house, and he’ll take any excuse to crawl into bed beside him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #mgg fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #ralvez #aaron hotchner #spencer reid/ethan #franklin x reader #chip taylor smut #raymond wadsworth #kyle orfman #lesley smith juniment #fic recommendation #recommendation

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

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…”

Permanent tag list

@goldensonlyangel @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @sassymoon @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @strawberryspence @thatsonezesty13 @lonewolf471 @cmvibess @a-mended-pact @ssa-uglywhore27

@fightingdragonswithreid @mortallythoughtfulgurl @bohemianrhapsody86 @allybatch @crypticcorvidinacottage

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #raymond wadsworth #raymond x reader #suburban gothic

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

CM/MGG Only One Bed Challenge

The following are prompts including the Only One Bed Trope!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

Open Prompts for the Challenge:

Character/Reader wakes up from a nightmare and the other comforts them.

Reader and Character hate each other, but the heater is broken and it’s freezing.

Reader is visiting Character, who insists they take Character‘s bed. Reader ends up with Character on the couch anyway.

Reader/Character can’t sleep, and discusses how they heard cuddling with a loved one can make it easier to fall asleep.

You just moved in with Character and you can’t put your bed together because it’s missing pieces. Character let’s you sleep with them.

Fake dating plan is almost thwarted by everyone expecting you to share a bed.

College!AU where you think you’re crawling into bed with your friend at a party but it’s actually/Character, the person you’ve been crushing on, who is too scared to kick you out.

Reader is a little tipsy/drunk. Character takes them to their apartment. Reader insists they sleep in the same bed.

Reader/Character is sick, and the other tries to take care of them. It works, but now the person is asleep on their lap and oh well I guess they’re stuck there.

Part of your bedtime routine surprises Character.

Someone keeps spouting random facts as you try to fall asleep.

“That’s it. I’m sleeping on the floor.”

Reader and Character are snowed in at a mutual friend's cabin because they got too drunk and stayed longer than they should have. The only problem is, there's only one tiny guest bedroom and they have to squeeze in together to stay warm.

Reader having to clean their sheets but their sheets aren't done by the time it's bed time. Character offers them their bed.

Reader and Character are camping, and one of their tents tears.

Anything else you can think of! Let me know if you have a request you'd like me to add to the list (or tag me in your fic of your original idea!)

Rules below the cut!

The fic can be a Reader insert, or a character/character ship. It can feature any Criminal Minds character or any character played by Matthew Gray Gubler (Chip, Raymond, Lesley, etc).

Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I'm collecting both! You can also tag it "#mentioningmargins" which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

*Also, side note: I am also considering collecting fics that feature the Anti-Only-One-Bed trope, which means that there actually are multiple beds, but the characters choose to stay in one (ex. my fic Astraphobia). If you have any of these, let me know!

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

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.

#raymond wadsworth x reader #raymond wadsworth fanfiction #raymond wadsworth smut #suburban gothic fanfic #blurb #imaginingafterdark

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

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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