#spooky's fic

[the-chamber-of-hoes]

Not pleased with the lack of new fics for my fav characters (hyper fixations) lately. The withdrawals are eating me alive

[anna-scribbles]

chapter cards for thirteen: november - april

read on ao3

[vavoom-sorted-art]

Happy Halloween!!

Have a drawing of Aziraphale and Crowley in their Halloween costumes from "The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It" by @indieninja92!

This was a commission, so a big thanks to my client for the support!! <3

[beomie3]

fangs - c.sb

bf!soobin x fem!reader

summary — the proper way of doing your boyfriend's vampire makeup for a costume party is straddling him, of course <3 + the hickeys you left on his neck are only part of the costume, right?

wc — 2.1k

content — established relationship, smut, you both love marking one another <3 rough make out, unprotected sex, cursing, you do soobin’s eyeliner hehe

♫ fangs - matt champion

✩ this is fic 2/5 of my halloween spooky series!

"bin- we only have an hour," you're slightly out of breath as you try to inform your boyfriend of the time in between heavy kisses. he has you pinned against your wardrobe as you two were in the midst of getting ready for a halloween costume party that started in about an hour.

you still had to do his eye makeup but you just couldn't resist him with how sexy he looked in his sharp black suit; black tie snug to his neck, tight dress pants hugging his legs so perfectly. faux vampire fangs slightly poking the plush of his bottom lip. how could you resist?

you tugged his tie gently to pull him closer, walking forward while he blindly walked backward to sit in your vanity's chair when you lightly pushed him down into it.

his chin was about to your chest with how tall he was still whilst sitting down, darkened eyes staring up at you and what felt nearly pierced your soul.

"close your eyes for me," you lightly swiped your hand over his eyelids as you bit the eyeliner cap off and held it between your teeth, tilting his chin up with your free hand.

his legs were spread irresistibly as you stood in between them, tongue pressing into his own cheek with a subtle smirk growing on his lips. you just knew he wanted you and you wanted him just as bad. if it weren't for the time crunch, the two of you would probably be tangled in the sheets. but that wasn't to think about now, was it?

you ran the pencil along his lash line, gently smudging it around with your fingers, stopping to admire just how beautiful he looked in this lighting; jet black hair messily gelled back revealing his pretty eyebrows, supple skin, the soft and sharp contrasts of his facial structure.

"open," his eyes fluttered at the command of your voice, more intense now that they were sexily smudged with eyeliner. you then ran some in his waterline, his eyes never leaving yours. he loved observing you at work, finding your concentration utterly admirable. you stepped back after you had finished, absolutely head over heels.

now, this was it. holy shit. you knew your boyfriend was sexy as hell already but- his eyes lined and smudged effortlessly and dark left you with your lip between your teeth. he was irresistible.

"how do i look?" his voice was low, smoky gaze penetrating yours. how does he look? what kind of question is that? you bit your cheek, a glint in your eyes that undressed him where he sat. it wasn't until he skimmed his long fingers up your thigh that a certain buzz ignited your skin, tickling your core in a dangerous way. the party started in forty-five minutes. fuck it.

you had no words except the small moan that left your throat when you crashed your lips to his passionately, his large hands helping you to straddle his lap and snaking them around the small of your back to keep you there.

"you look so handsome," you whisper into his ear, sending chills up his spine at the warmth of your breath down his neck, turning him on infinitely. you kissed down his neck, stopping for several moments to decorate the soft skin with red marks that you knew he loved receiving. you began loosening his tie, enough to unbutton his white button-up, smoothing your hand over his exposed chest; a perfect canvas for kissing and licking all over.  

your red lipstick left lip-shaped imprints all over the contours of his pecks, something he found so hot; he just wanted your kisses all over his body. attaching your lips to his neck, you sucked and bit at the skin, decorating him with your art. 

happy with your purple and red splotches on his neck and chest, it was his turn. skimming his nose against your jaw, you angled your head to give him access to your neck; warm and supple for him to suck the life out of it. dragging the tip of his tongue across your neck, you shivered, tangling your fingers in the loose hair at the nape of his neck when he began suckling at the skin, soft and wet lips addicting against your sensitive flesh. 

although, this time it was more intense with the dull ache of his fangs against your skin, turning you on in a way you couldn't even begin to explain. boy, would people know he's yours and you're his at the party. your matching vampire costumes would make sense now, with the red splotch and bites across your necks which emulate a vampire bite from one another <3

his hard-on was no secret as it prodded your wetness against your panties. luckily, that was all you were wearing under your black mini-skirt. you began to grind against the firmness in his pants, whimpering as it perfectly soothed your aching clit, tingles darting up and into your stomach.

he groaned against your neck, guiding your hips with a firm grip. you were pushing him nearly over the edge with your pretty noises in his ear; oh, soobin~ you're so sexy. and so hard, all for me? he could nearly explode at any moment. he needed you, bad. 

that's it. suddenly, he groaned, picking you up swiftly and carrying you to the door of your bedroom as it was directly ahead, pressing your back against it as you wrapped your legs tightly around his hips. sharp black stiletto heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

he cursed under his breath as he held you against the cold wood of the door, the plush of your thighs becoming revealed under your skirt as the material was pushed up to your waist, his eyes darkening more and more as he looked your body up and down like it was a fucking buffet.

"soobin, baby..." you ran your fingers down his exposed chest, then returned them to his face, swiping your thumb over his lips. "...fuck me." 

your tongue across his bottom lip was all he needed to be completely set over the edge, holding you up against the door with one hand and unbuckling his belt with the other, his sleek pants dropping to the floor in an instant. the ironed dress shirt he tucked in so perfectly an hour ago was long forgotten about at this moment, everything leaving his mind. it was just you.

using a finger to hook your soaked panties aside, he looked you dead in the eye. a hungry, no, starved look prevalent within them. you smirked, seeing him so hot and desperate for you all had you almost moaning at the sight.

"like this?" he groaned lowly against your lips, slurring his words as he slowly pushed himself into you. his dick stretched you so good, so hard and curling up to kiss your g-spot at the perfect angle. you threw your head back into the door, only his name and yes yes yes to escape your lips repeatedly, so drunk on his cock already.

"mhmm?" he pressed kisses over the bruising hickeys on your neck, his hips rutting against yours slowly yet intensely, each thrust causing a thud at the door with his strength. he didn't give you much time to adjust to him because he knew you could take him. your pussy was just molded for him <3

"fuck soobin, fuck!" tears pricked your eyes as he rutted his hips against yours so harshly, fucking you so good you couldn't even think straight. nothing but the sound of both of your whimpers harmonizing, the slick sounds of him entering you repeatedly, the slapping of his full thighs against your ass, the thudding at the door with every thrust. he loved every bit of it.

he especially loved getting to watch your chest bounce against his at this angle, nipples poking through the thin silk of your top. he groaned at the sight, leaning down to help one strap off at a time with his teeth to free your tits. he pressed his lips to your collarbones, leaving even more marks behind.

an hour ago, you thought the two of you would be in the car by now, making your merry way to the costume party in your matching costumes. but no, here you were, getting absolutely fucked out of your mind; suspended against your bedroom door, getting handled in any way your boyfriend pleased. but you loved it. you loved everything he did to you.

even so that he now had you bent over the counter of your vanity, staring at each other's reflection in the large lit mirror. tight skirt pulled over your hips, his large hands holding you firmly in place as he pounded into you from behind, squeezing the plush of your ass.

everything about his reflection in the mirror was drop-dead gorgeous; the sweat beading on his forehead, your red lipstick smeared all over his mouth, neck, and chest. the depth of his smoky eyes piercing yours as he absolutely ruined you.

your legs were shaking in your high heels, nearly giving out but he firmly held you there, leaning over you to press kisses to your shoulder blades, exposed through the dainty straps of your silky top that hung lazily off of your shoulders. 

"wanna come for me, beautiful?" he whispered into your ear from behind, reaching around to rub circles into your clit, causing you to clench and flutter around his fullness. he buried his face in your hair at the sensation, deep moans and whimpers exiting his mouth. the sound so pretty and lewd and pushing you right to the edge. 

all you could do was desperately nod at him through the mirror, a familiar tickle at your core that only needed one more thrust to send you spiraling into white-hot pleasure. with one final thrust, the deepest one yet, you were moaning his name like it was a prayer, his eyes fixed intensely on yours, so satisfied to watch your face contort in pleasure.

your orgasmic pulsations around his cock was enough to have him spurting hot cum inside of you, thrusting it deep inside of you and watching as some leaked out and dripped onto the floor. 

"holy fuuck," he cursed in your ear at the intensity of your orgasms, hot breath spreading across your neck that was covered in sweat, his thrusts slowing as you both rode out your highs, catching your breath before he pulled out of you. 

your arms and legs were dead tired as they had held you up against the table the entire time, almost giving out but he spun you around and held you tightly against his chest, pressing kisses to your lips and neck, trailing his hands softly all over your body as to show his gratitude. he carried you to the bathroom bridal style and helped clean you up, oh SHIT coming from behind the bathroom door when you both realized the party was five minutes away from staring. 

you hastily helped clean him up as well and returned to the vanity where you stared at one another's reflections. you couldn't help but laugh; the two of you were a fucking mess.

but to be honest, you both looked a lot more like vampires than what your original costumes even called for, and a lot sexier too; faces shimmery under the dim candlelight of your room, disheveled hair like you just went out on some sort of feral hunting mission.

the only thing you had to touch up was your lipstick because it was completely gone, all transferred onto him. his eyeliner was a bit smeared but so much sexier this way.

"ready to go win this contest?" you stared at him in the mirror as you had finished reapplying your lipstick, slinging your sleek bag over your shoulder. you almost blushed with how sexy both of you looked, basking in a certain afterglow that just radiated off of your faces.

he interlaced his fingers with yours and looked down at you, the shadow of his figure towering over yours and cast against he wall by candlelight. the two of you were just the perfect pair. 

he didn't say anything but instead bent down to hug you, smothering you in his embrace. you hugged him back, suddenly yelping when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, spanking you and speed walking out of the door.

"we can't win if we're late!"

that was your soob; just fucked your brains out, but worried about being late. that was your man <3

a/n: my spooky series was on hold for a bit but i will still try to get out the rest of the fics!! thank you so much for 500 followers, u are the best :) i hope everyone has a safe halloween and tysm reading <3 comment if you’d like to be tagged in the rest of the series!

tagslist: @love-be0m @izzyexe @mhasimp666 @alialialisstuff @caaaptaaainamericaaa @airax1 @slut4saerom

©beomie3

[solbaby7]

… can i have an old fashioned/long island neat?

i already did long island neat, sweets. so i’ll whip you up a quick old fashioned instead—here’s some snacks while you wait 🧁🍿🥜

[ “no, no. leave your clothes on for me” + azriel ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

It’s not very often that Az gets in these kinds of moods.

The kind where he allows the darkness of his job in Hewn to bleed over into the bedroom. To be fair, he’s significantly subdued but that cloudy storm in aureate irises is unmistakable—he craves. Desires the thrill of a hunt that’s more satisfying than whatever remains in those dungeons. “Rough night?”

He hums in agreement, hands flexing at his sides as a breeze cuts through a cracked window. “Want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” It should be shameful how eager you are to please, already shuffling away from the safety of warm sheets and fluffed pillows just to stand before him.

There’s still blood on his leathers but the bulk of his weapons are gone, neatly set aside for now. Small ones remain, little daggers, easily concealed switchblades, throwing knives tucked in most if not all of the little pockets sewn into his fighting gear. “ ‘M a little wound up,” Azriel confesses tersely, his stance too rigid; his touch too restrained when a thumb grazes the line of your cheekbone. Unbound hair is nudged away from your shoulder and you only watch the darkness in his eyes grow when the palm of his hand splays around the length of your neck. Your pulse flutters against his fingertips under the gentle claiming, grip applying enough pressure to make your lids go a little lazy. “Looking for a chase—think you can run for me?”

He can feel you swallow, the roll of your throat in his grasp as your sleepy brain arouses at the implication. So much power you surrender over to him; trusting that he won’t abuse it. There’s no request he’s ever asked for that you haven’t given. “Can I get a head start?”

There’s a fondness in the way he looks at you when he nods, shadows teasing around the bulk of his shoulders, resting against him like a prowling panther. “Sure pretty, only because you’re smart enough to ask.” The praise makes you forget to bother with a coat and excitement bubbles in his belly when you snag an elastic to tuck your hair away. “Make it good for me.”

A brow raises, gaze seeking him out over your shoulder. One finger dips under the straps of your nightgown, flimsy fabric beginning to slide down your frame when he tuts his tongue. “No, no. Leave your clothes on for me.” Greed stains his tongue; shows its head when shadows writhe in barely controlled restraint—predators salivating for suitable prey; for a satisfactory hunt. One that leaves his blood pumping and adrenaline soaring through his muscles; casting iron around his bones and shifting him from male to beast. “I’ll take them off once I’ve caught you. It’ll be my prize.”

A devilish grin spreads across your face. “You mean if catch me.”

[fishfingersandscarves]

spooky hob sitting by the thames from wild rushes by @moorishflower

[theminecraftbee]

The thing in her cargo hold is looking at her again.

Really, Gem should have sold it by now. If the fishmonger had refused to take it--and really, it seems unlikely, Gem thinks, that the fishmonger would refuse to take it; he has taken and carved up and made meals of far stranger fish than one with a human face and hands and torso--she could have easily sold it to the man on the train, who takes exotic catches for his zoo. She could have even taken it to Grian; it's not a mending book, but it's the sort of thing he'd like to make fun of her for catching, instead of anything she's after.

Really, she should have. The longer she keeps the thing in her cargo hold, the more it starts to look properly human to her. She should know better. She has caught far stranger fish, and none of them have been human. It's another trick these seas have been playing on her, she thinks.

Long nights alone do that to a woman.

She ignores it. Instead, she opens the lid of the tank and starts depositing salmon. "It's a really weird request, that I keep them alive the whole time. You won't eat them, right?" Gem says, knowing the thing in her cargo hold can't answer. "Because if you eat them, this time, I really am going to sell you to the fishmonger. Or maybe I can figure out how to get fillets from you on my own? I've certainly eaten weirder fish..."

The thing in the cargo hold continues to stare. It has eyes that look like little moons, and brown hair, and it is smiling for some reason. Gem huffs.

"Don't give me that look! You are a fish. I am a fisherman. If mere human faces stopped me from doing my job, I would have gone mad a long time ago."

The thing in the cargo hold smiles wider. The lights flicker. Gem rolls her eyes and finishes putting salmon in the tank. As though to spite her, the thing in the cargo hold immediately lashes out, grabbing one in the claws on her otherwise-human hands and then tearing it apart with razor-sharp teeth. Blood rises on the water. Gem sighs.

"I have a harpoon in here somewhere, or at least a very sharp knife," she says to herself. She doesn't really want to use her nice knife, the one she always keeps on her belt, but she ought to have another knife around with which she can finish the job, right?

The lights flicker and go out. When she looks across at the tank, there are two silvery-moon eyes looking at her.

Gem pulls a wire. Gem turns the lights back on. She takes a deep breath.

"I really should have sold you by now, really. If the fishmonger won't take you, then the zookeeper would love you," Gem says.

The radio crackles. Gem startles. Very, very few people ever contact her on the shipboard radio, but if she's getting a signal, that's more important than a grudge match with a fish. She heads over to answer the call.

An amalgamation of voices responds:

YOU ARE FUNNY. I HAVE A MESSAGE. A DELIVERY. YOU'VE TRAPPED ME THOUGH.

Slowly, Gem turns around to the thing in the cargo hold.

"This won't stop me from treating you like a fish," she says. "If messages from the ocean stopped me--"

A terrible, crackling laugh sounds from the radio.

I AM THE MOON'S PEARL. YOU WILL NOT HOLD ME FOREVER. WE WILL SEE WHO EATS WHO.

Gem wags her finger. "We'll see, for sure, as long as you don't eat my salmon. That man in the fish-scaled suit was VERY insistent, you know."

TELL ME MORE.

"You're tying up my radio. What if there's another ship? What if there's something important?"

OH GEM. YOU KNOW THERE WON'T BE.

Gem swallows.

The thing in the cargo hold is staring at her.

"I need to sleep. I need to go to shore," she says.

YOU WON'T, the radio says.

She won't.

[travelingtwentysomething]

Prompt: “Pick a god and pray” they said, and you did, praying to every god you knew. And as you did this a name popped into your mind, one you didn’t recognize, yet you prayed to them all the same. In response the air stood still, like even the world had forgotten their name.

Devotion Tastes So Sweet On Your Lips (AO3)

It was another one of those nights- Steve was running through the dark trees, waking nightmare chasing him down.

He prayed his footing stayed true. He prayed that his breaths didn't falter. He prayed that the hungry darkness falling fast in his shadow didn't catch him.

He prayed to all the gods. Every deity he had ever learned of, all the new gods, and the old. He prayed until the sweat burning his eyes blinded him and he felt a root leap up in front of his foot.

He stumbled but did not fall.

But the sound of a snapping maw was closing around the dust he kicked up.

Suddenly, in his desperation, a name floated from the depths of his erratic heart to the tip of his bitten tongue.

"Eddie the Banished, of the Fallen Forest— Please- Please," Steve huffed, a force behind the name punched through his diaphragm and left him no air to plead with.

No sooner had the name fallen from Steve's lips, than the ground fell away beneath him- an embankment, steep and unforgiving in its angle. He rolled past tree trunks, slid over rough roots, and scraped jagged rocks loose for gravity to bring along for the ride.

His body hit the bottom and bounced.

Steve was dazed, his ears felt muffled as if he had landed underwater. He sat up so fast his vision swam, leaving trails of light where the stars shone down on him under the glare of the full moon.

He tried to stand, but his stomach protested- knees, shaken and unsteady, refused to hold his weight. He fell, once again on his back, trying to catch his bearings.

When his head cleared enough that the moon ceased it's dance in the sky above him, Steve sat up slowly, taking stock of his surroundings. He strained his ears to hear the snap of twigs or the slide of rocks down the slope he had just ridden as his pursuer followed him into the gorge.

It was silent as a ghost.

Steve pressed his palms to his ears and felt no blood, squeezing to try and pressure shock them into working.

He listened again—

Not even a whisper of wind in the trees.

Steve picked up a twig from the soft bed of moss that had saved his limbs from the worst of the abrupt impact and snapped it between his fingers- the sound sharp enough to startle him.

His ears worked just fine, it seemed- it was the forest that was broken.

As Steve got one knee under him, prepared to make another attempt to stand- a shadow fell over him.

Steve kept his head lowered, subdued under the charge in the air- the unmistakable aura of predator.

He slowly raised his eyes, and only his eyes.

There, standing tall above him, was a Wild God.

"It has been... So long-" The voice was grinding stones carried on the wind, "I'd forgotten what it sounded like." The Wild God lowered his body into a facsimile of a bow. A hand that shadows cling to like smoke, finger tips black as the night and ephemeral, ghosted under his chin, raising Steve's eyes to meet the darkness shining in the Wild God's own. "My name on some desperate tongue."

Steve was struck with a lightning heat deep inside his belly that rose like a plume of ashes from the mouth of a volcano, his face burning under the gaze of the most beautiful and terrifying wonder he had ever witnessed.

"Say it again." The Wild God demanded, voice deep enough to shake the ground Steve knelt on.

"Eddie the Banished, of the Fallen Forest." Steve moaned, unabashed.

Eddie's eyes rolled and the whites flickered behind shivering lashes as he savored the taste of devotion.

[cupids-chamber]

— “ MAKE-UP “  Content tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Suggestive, Un-edited. Prompt: Vil does your Halloween make-up (or) Vil does your make-up. (In case you don't celebrate Halloween)

Vil hummed, his hand traveled from your thigh to around your waist, his soft fingers touched your sensitive skin bringing you both closer than you both were before—your chest practically touching his own as his other hand fiddled with his makeup box. You could feel his hot breath linger on your neck as he searched for some sort of lipstick shade or whatever; your mind blanked on the minor details, a part of you was still confused as to how you got here, sitting on his lap as he does your makeup.  

You didn't quite expect this—not once did it occur to you, that you'd end up in this compromising situation. Vil's hands gripped your waist tighter, his nails slightly digging just a bit deeper on your sensitive skin knocking you back to reality, he muttered a harsh, "Stay still" and you paused in place.

His soft fingers gently grazed the red nail marks, as if to apologize for his previous harshness. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt something outlining your lips—'Lip liner?', you opened your eyes, only to find him staring intently back at you, his violet eyes gazing at your lips, going over the outline, you could feel his warm breath, you could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath, his lips mere inches away from your own—And then he backed away, and the next thing you felt was a cold wet tissue, wiping away some mistake he made and you could see the way his brows furrowed in slight annoyance. 

Somewhere along the lines everything blurred and the next thing you heard was; "Close your eyes", and you did, but for some odd reason it felt harder than before, your eyelids twitch as you try your best to keep them closed, you felt Vil's hands hold your face up high, his soft fingers grazing your chin pulling you upwards, and after a few moments you hear chuckling, "Why do you look so scared, like a rabbit" 

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[gurugirl]

The Halloween Call | cop!harry

can be read as standalone

Summary: Harry takes a call to check out the scene of crime at an old abandoned house, well known as the Slaughter House with a grim history.

A/N: You guys voted for a cop!harry update and so here you go! This one is a little different than the usual cop!harry one shots and is connected to an upcoming ghost!harry one shot to be posted later this month. This is a crossover of sorts where cop!harry responds to an emergency call at the haunted house that ghost!harry lives in. Hope you Enjoy!

Word Count: 3656

Warning: 18+ only, smut, mentions of death, murder, evil spirits, a seance, and Harry gets very spooked (nothing gruesome just mentions)

cop!harry masterlist

Something told Harry his day was going to be a strange one. Maybe it was because it was Halloween. He wasn’t sure where the feeling was coming from but he knew he needed to cuddle and love on Y/n before he left their house for work.

And of course that turned into Y/n grinding down over him with his cock deep inside of her with her palms flat on his pecs, tits in his face.

“Fuck, Harry!”

Harry’s tummy was already swirling with that thick, syrupy rippling that made his balls squeeze against his body. He held her hips and gritted his teeth, “Shit, baby. That feels so good…”

“Can I come? Oh god! Please?” Y/n’s face was screwed up as she inhaled a sharp breath, her orgasm about to spill out.

The bed rocked gently and every time Harry thrust up into her and their bodies pressed together, the squelching of wet sex sounded in their bedroom.

“Baby, come on my cock. Fuck, honey!” Harry closed his eyes. Only a couple more minutes and he could come. If he continued to stare up at his gorgeous girl grinding on his cock with her tits swaying and her lips all puffy and bitten he was sure he couldn’t last while she was coming and squeezing around his cock. He cherished the way it felt when she was orgasming and gripping him tight right before he’d allow himself to finally come.

“Yes! Fuck… Harry! I’m coming…” She moaned through her gasps and rocked over him when her orgasm snapped and she gushed in her release.

“Good girl… feels so good doesn’t it?” Harry whimpered his words with a shaky breath.

Her moans and whines and the slip of her walls over his shaft put him over the edge. He could no longer hold himself back as he pumped his orgasm into her tummy. He lifted his hips and held her down on his prick tightly as he coughed out a loud groan.

He had come so hard he nearly fell back to sleep after his body calmed but when he heard her giggling he opened his eyes. She was lying flat on his chest and looking up at him with her finger twirling a section of hair at his temple.

“What a perfect way to start the day.” She hummed and grinned at him.

Harry smiled and pinched her bottom, “Agreed.”

During Halloween, Harry was used to getting lots of domestic calls. Sometimes they were about the occult or someone being scared someone was in their house. Pranks were usually the culprit, but typically it wound up just being wild imaginations and a little too much weed and horror movies.

But today’s call was different. First of all, it had come quite early in the day. It wasn’t even 10:00 a.m. Usually, Halloween calls came when the sun was down. He turned on his lights and siren and safely raced down the neighborhood streets toward the house, famously known as the Slaughter House. A supposed haunted house long abandoned by its last occupants 55 years ago. Normally Harry didn’t investigate things of this nature but he was closest to the scene and could get there to secure the premises.

The call was for the homicide of 11 people. The woman who called 911 admitted to having been in the house and was hosting a séance. He was told she might be a little crazy and that backup was on the way but an officer already on the scene was with the girl so she didn’t run off.

Pulling up to the front he visually inspected everything, the neighbor’s yards, the street, the front of the house. Officer Danzel was with a young woman who looked distraught.

Looking at Danzel he asked, “Is this the woman who called in about the homicides? Cooper?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying to calm her down. She’s saying they held a 55-year anniversary séance inside that house. In the basement. If there are any bodies they’ll be there.”

The young woman looked up at Harry, “You won’t find any bodies. Or anything. The house took them. I saw it. It started off with us making contact quickly and then…” She looked down and inhaled sharply.

Danzel patted her back, “That’s okay, Cooper. He’s just gonna go in and take a look.”

The girl shook her head and reached for Harry’s arm, “But… you need more- more men. Don’t go in there alone. He… he’s still in there.”

Harry looked toward the house and couldn’t see any activity from where he stood in the street but he had a job to do regardless of how scary and gruesome the scene might be, though he doubted there would be anything based on the warning he was given about the Cooper’s mental state, he still had to check it out. Plus, he had a gun and was a trained policeman so any murderer would be put at a disadvantage very quickly.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me this, but I do need to check the premises and make sure whoever is in there doesn’t escape.”

“NO!” She shrieked and Harry widened his eyes. This young woman had really seen something that had her shaken up. “No! Officer, listen. This thing isn’t of this world. It’s not human. It’s… evil and it’s attached to the house. It was a séance! We were trying to speak to the innocent…” She backed away and put her hands in her hair and lowered her voice, “No one will ever believe me. Just please,” she looked back up at Harry, “Please don’t go in alone. I can…” she sniffed and looked at Danzel, “I’m not going anywhere. I can stay put here and you go in with him. Don’t let him go in alone.”

Now Harry was not a superstitious man. He didn’t believe in ghosts or anything supernatural like that at all. But the girl was scared out of her wits. She seemed genuinely concerned for him. And somehow he was feeling uneasy about the whole thing as well. He felt his adrenaline spike and a little scratchy something in his spine that had his hackles raised.

“There’s no need to worry. I’ll be in and out. Backup should be here to join me inside soon.”

The girl shook her head, “Officer. I know you don’t believe in evil or spirits but that house is full of them. And the one that’s conducting everything won’t be deterred by a gun. Sir, please-“

“That’s okay, Cooper.” He looked her over and then back to Danzel who had a telling look on his face. The man didn’t believe a word the girl had spoken.

She nodded and turned to look back at the house before Harry continued, “You’re right. I don’t believe in that but I believe that you think something very scary happened and I will be going in safely and soon I’ll have more help to join me.”

There was nothing she could say to deter Officer Styles and she knew it. But she tried and she figured that was going to have to be good enough. Hopefully, the other cops would be arriving soon.

The front of the house was all boarded up. The grass was overgrown, vines wound up the porch's banister. He walked to the side of the house and noticed a small piece of paper taped to the siding: The Séance Experience this way with an arrow pointing in the direction he was headed.

From what he could tell, every window and crack had been boarded up. The house was huge. Harry could only imagine what a property like this could fetch if someone fixed it up.

When he got to the back there was a small table with burnt-out candles and a box turned on its side that appeared to have been a spot to take money, though the box was empty.

Harry scanned the backyard and the fence that contained it. Not much different than the front. A huge oak in the middle with long grass all around, overgrown bushes, and patches where weeds were growing tall along the fence.

Turning back to the door, where boards had been carefully pried off he had a feeling that something bad was about to happen. He wasn’t a man who usually tapped into his gut feelings but something about it all wasn’t sitting right and that strange little scratch at the base of his spine began to rise and gave him goosebumps as he pushed the door open to enter.

He noted the door wasn’t closed. Which made sense based on the story Cooper had told him. She was obviously in a big hurry to get out of there.

Inside the house it was dark. The windows being boarded up didn’t let in much light and electricity was obviously shut off. Everything was dusty and quiet. As he walked deeper into the house, gun out in front, his finger in the safety position, he stepped quietly and observantly into the hallway off the kitchen looking both ways before continuing toward what appeared to be the front of the house.

The hair on the back of his neck rose when he felt a deep chill over his frame and his heart thundered wildly. He couldn’t hear anyone, nor could he see anything amiss.

The living room was empty, aside from old furniture covered with sheets. He turned back into the hallway and checked each room, all of which were empty and quiet. He knew the house had a basement and that’s where the séance was held so the basement would be his last stop.

Slowly he made his way up the old wooden stairs. The house must have been quite grand back in the day. Harry noted that it was in need of repair and love but the craftsmanship was stunning.

The first room he got to was a bedroom. Nothing. No one. The second bedroom was larger. The master suite possibly. He stepped into the room and paused when he saw something move but then breathed out in relief when he realized it was only his reflection in an old mirror atop a dresser.

The next room was a bathroom, then a hall closet, and then another room (so far Harry had counted five bedrooms). Like the other bedrooms, he opened the closet to check inside. Shining his flashlight in he saw a long brown wool coat hanging at the back. He reached for the coat to move it away so he could look at the back of the closet when suddenly the bedroom door slammed closed. He turned quickly, gun aimed at the door, and saw no one.

Harry was feeling his nerves prickle in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. So far he’d seen nothing but this house gave him the serious creeps. And where was his backup? What was taking them so long?

Harry slowly made his way back to the door that had just been slammed and opened it to look into the hallway. Nothing. No one.

He sighed to catch his breath. Maybe it was a heavy draft that caused the door to slam. But that itchy scratchy feeling up his spine began to spread and he felt the tremble in his hands. He couldn’t stop it.

Looking back into the bedroom at the opened closet door he made the decision to leave it and head back downstairs to go into the basement. He really hoped his backup would have arrived by then so he didn’t have to go down into a dark basement where there was supposedly some kind of dark entity waiting for him. Not that he believed in any of that.

At the top of the stairs, Harry pulled out his radio to check it. He clicked the call button but the device didn’t even fuzz back at him. It was silent. It was dead.

“Just fucking great,” he mumbled as he hooked the radio back into his belt and descended the steps.

Going back into the kitchen and into the short hallway that led to a laundry room he stood before the closed basement door and inhaled a deep breath.

Placing his hand on the knob he hesitated. Cooper had nearly begged him not to go in alone. What if he never came out? What if there was something otherworldly down there? Something evil? Would Y/n think he’d abandoned her?

He shook his head and laughed at himself, “Don’t be a pussy.”

Twisting the knob and pulling the door open, he peered in and there was nothing but blackness staring back at him.

Clicking his flashlight back on and stepping in onto the landing he pointed his light down the stairs and around the area he could see as he began to slowly step down into the dark space.

As soon as his shoes hit the cement flooring at the bottom he heard something that sounded like scraping but could have been a mouse or small rodent. He adjusted his flashlight and turned it toward where he thought the sound was coming from but saw nothing.

And just like the rest of the house. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. Not only that, there was absolutely nothing alarming in the basement at all. It didn’t appear to have been a place where there were 11 people supposedly murdered. There was no table or chairs or candles. Harry imagined at least something that pointed to some people having been in there. But there was nothing.

The chill he felt when he first entered the house descended on him again. Only this time he felt it start from the top of his skull down to his toes. He turned the flashlight upward to check the ceiling, perhaps a vent was pulling cool air in, but it was just flat cement. The vent and connected pipes were across the room.

Harry cleared his throat and strained his eyes to follow the light but it was then he realized his flashlight was dimming slowly.

The scraping noise started again, this time from behind him. As he quickly turned toward the noise, which had grown louder and sounded like a metal chair being dragged across the damp cement flooring, his flashlight died.

Harry put his hands out and felt for the stair banister. He needed to get out of there. He’d have to wait for backup before getting deeper into the basement. His flashlight going out was his last straw.

When he found the banister, thankful for his natural sense of direction he gripped the metal and took one step at a time so he didn’t fall. He was shaky and his adrenaline was making his ears begin to ring.

But he was suddenly aware that the door to the basement was closed. He hadn’t heard the door shut but being that it was pitch black right where there should be some light coming in through the door, he knew someone had closed it.

And now the odd feeling he’d gotten on his way into the house, the chill, and the anxiety, had turned into something a lot like terror. He hastened his steps up the creaky wooden stairs and reached for his radio, pressing the call button over and over again to no avail. When he reached the landing and tried twisting the knob to open the door, it was jammed.

“Fuck!” He whispered to himself and continued yanking at the handle as he pressed the radio’s button to reach out to anyone.

“Fucking piece of shit!” He shoved the radio back into its loop and began to pound on the door, “Hey! An officer is locked in here! Hey!!”

Harry couldn’t think of a time he’d been so spooked in his life. He felt his life was in danger as he continued banging on the door and loudly calling to anyone who might have entered the house.

A whisper from his left had him swinging toward the noise. It sounded as if it had been whispered directly into his ear. He was in a full-on panic as he beat on the wooden door.

“Get out!” A guttural feminine scream came from behind him with a whoosh of air blowing around his body and toward the door. With a violent crack, the door blew open and Harry had never run so fast in his life as he darted into the kitchen and found the back door. The moment he stepped out into the backyard he saw Officer Davis and Lyle.

“Styles! You okay man?” Officer Lyle grasped him by his shoulders.

Harry was heaving breaths and, in that moment, felt as if he’d miraculously escaped death. Though he saw nothing, and most of what had happened would easily be brushed off by anyone he told, he was visibly frightened.

“Fuck. I don’t know. Something weird… I didn’t see anything. Just…” he caught his breath and shook his head, rethinking what he was going to say so they didn’t think he was insane, “House is clear but the basement might need a thorough search. My flashlight died down there so I couldn’t finish. I’m gonna go check on the girl.”

He was still shaking as he walked toward his squad car. The girl was sitting in the back of Danzel’s car with the door open and her feet out on the curb as he approached. Danzel was leaning his bottom into the hood of his car on his cell phone. He felt his heart rate pulsing heavily. Everything that had just happened was intense. Something he’d never forget.

He walked toward the pair at Danzel’s car and leaned down to look at Cooper.

“You’re white as a ghost,” the young lady spoke as she took in his face.

“The house is definitely creepy. But I didn’t see anything in any of the rooms.” He wanted to tell her more but he still hadn’t even wrapped his own mind around what had just happened.

“But surely you couldn’t have checked the whole house and all those rooms? You’ve only been gone for like,” she looked toward the clock on Danzel’s dash and pointed at it, “three minutes.”

Harry stood up and looked back at the house. Three minutes? How was that possible? He had been in there for at least 15 minutes checking and clearing each room.

“Something happened to you in there, didn’t it? To everyone outside of that house, you were only in there for three minutes. But to you, it must have felt like much longer.”

Harry nodded pensively but decided to not respond to her comment, “Just wait her a sec.”

He walked to the front of the car to follow up with Danzel before getting the fuck out of there. Danzel ended his call quickly, “See anything?”

Harry shook his head, “Nothing. But the house is definitely… it’s creepy.”

Danzel nodded and hummed, “You think she made it up?”

“I…” Harry took a deep breath and shook his head. “No. I don’t think she’s lying. I know this might sound crazy but some really weird shit happened to me in there just now. Things I don’t think I can really explain or wrap my mind around at this moment. But she’s really shaken up and I believe her. Plus we have 11 other names we can follow up on if they wind up missing.”

“But there are no bodies in the house? No blood or any weapons?”

Harry sighed and shook his head, “No. Nothing like that. I think this is something that you and I won’t be able to understand. Like…” he scratched the back of his neck, “… evil or some shit. Not that I believe in any of that, but… I don’t know.”

He noted that Danzel had given him a look of pause before pushing himself from the hood of his car, “Okay. Well, we’ll get her official statement. Once Davis and Lyle get out of there we’ll have someone back out and secure the door, make sure no one can enter easily.”

Harry nodded and waved at Danzel as he walked away before turning back once more to look at the girl. She wasn’t lying. There was nothing to back up what she had said but he knew something had happened.

Harry sat in his car for a moment taking deep breaths to calm himself. He needed a moment to breathe and collect himself. He closed his eyes and thought of Y/n. She always calmed him and made him feel safe and warm.

He picked up his cellphone and dialed her number. She picked up on the first ring.

“Baby? How are you?” He asked, already feeling better hearing her little hello when she answered the phone.

“Doing good. Just… Are you okay, Harry?” She always knew when he was upset somehow. He couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was in his voice? He didn’t know how she was so good at picking up his subtle changes but she was.

He opened his eyes and looked back at the house as he started up his car, “I’m okay. Just… Missed you. Wanted to hear your voice.”

He could hear her shuffling around, “Did something happen, baby? I’m worried–“

“I’m okay, Y/n. Just had a weird day. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”

Harry drove away from the house and felt his body settle and his mind quiet the further he got. He didn’t know if he’d ever tell anyone what happened in that house except for Y/n. She was the only one he felt safe to tell. She might not understand but he couldn’t say he even understood it himself. All he knew was that whatever was in that house was evil and there was nothing the whole police force could do to stop it.

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[sinner-as-saint]

🕸️♡ spooky fics ♡🕸

'til we bleed out (vampire!bucky completed series)

the unseen (hades!bucky oneshot)

wherever you stray, I follow (demon!bucky completed series)

heartless / heartless 2 (incubus!bucky duet)

king of my heart (devil!seb oneshot)

deal with the devil (devil!steve oneshot)

where I belong (hades!steve oneshot)

some ancient call (gargoyle!steve oneshot)

in the dark (steve x succubus!reader)

full masterlist :)

[saewokhrisz]

alliances

[babygorewhore]

Kinktober

Two fics a week will be posted starting October 1st.

Rafe Cameron-Primal

Rafe Cameron-Blood Play

Rafe Cameron- Sadism/masochism

JJ Maybank-Knife Play

Spencer Reid-Worship

Spencer Reid-Bondage

Logan Howlett-Somno

Cooper Adams/Abbott-CNC

@xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @justafangirls-blog @webbluvrsugar @hereforthehitsbaby @fear-is-truth

[kedsandtubesocks]

the dark dresses lightly

Dave York x F!Reader

written for @perotovar offering of frith challenge

Vidar [Víðarr] (The Silent God of Vengeance)

summary: your ex has made your life hell & you had hoped for retribution - but when it arrives as a handsome stranger you must now place your trust (and heart) in his hands

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Norse God Mythology AU (Dave is still Dave but also the god of vengeance), fake dating, mild angst & yearning, soft & protective!Dave, creepy awful ex boyfriend & his awful friends (stalking, extreme harassment), light use of gendered language, alcohol consumption, themes & moments of violence, gun usage, blood imagery, minor character deaths, masturbation (f), soft dom!Dave, Dave’s dirty talk, use of “good girl”, oral (f!receiving), finger sucking, light spit kink, fingering, smutty thoughts, spicy themes, poetic allusions to smut (p in v)

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here’s my offering to our dear @perotovar wonderful writing challenge - the moodboard is all theirs too! Thank you for arranging for us Erin & for all the help you’ve given me, ily forever! Also a huge thank you to @pedgito & @pr0ximamidnight for always letting me scream about this wacky idea lol… now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You meet the god of vengeance at a bar. It sounds like a bad joke, but it’s true.

Except you didn’t know he was the god of vengeance then…

The situation with your ex brought you to this point and to this bar.

You feel like a cliché sitting at the counter nursing a drink. The meeting with your dad’s attorney friend went well. You just hope, wish, this all will end soon.

“You okay?” A smooth, rich, hesitant voice emerges beside you, and when you turn you’re stunned.

He’s utterly gorgeous. Dressed in a dark blazer and red tie, it’s like he just walked out of a very important conference meeting. Sharp clean shaven jaw, amazing tiger’s eye gem like gaze, beautiful aquiline nose - you didn’t even hear him approach.

You wonder if maybe he’s a hallucination.

Weakly, you reassure him you’re fine, even flash a fake smile.

His eyes wince almost like he’s heartbroken at your response. But you get it. You alone in the bar exhausted and dejected probably presents a bleak sight.

“This seat taken?” The mystery man asks, nudging at the open barstool next to you. You gently tell him it’s not.

He grins soft, under-stated and polite. There's a reassured ease you’re surprised to see in his eyes. The man turns to the bartender and orders a drink for himself and you.

The dark cloud looming around you slowly starts to dissolve.

“What’s your name?” He asks, and you happily give it to him.

“I’m Dave.” He extends his hand out respectfully. The handshake is firm, and you already can’t get over how much larger his hand is compared to yours.

You haven’t met and talked to someone like this in so long, especially with the mess you’ve been dealing with. Dating has been out of your mind completely.

“So what brings a beauty like yourself to a bar all alone?” Dave smoothly asks.

A flattered fluster runs across your face. His tone isn’t out right flirty but still curious, testing the waves.

Hesitation however tugs at you. The last time your best friend tried to set you up with one of her co workers, you accidentally let everything slip about the mess with your ex boyfriend. The guy was polite and sweet about it all but never talked to you again after that.

So you half lie and say you’ve been dealing with some legal issues. You explain how you just left meeting an attorney and dropped by this bar nearby.

Dave nods, patiently.

“That’s unfortunate. I’m sorry.” He sympathizes.

After thanking him, you now ask what brings someone like him to the bar. The man smirks, and it colors him slightly cocky but attractive like a coy rich business man.

“Just dropped by after work.” He answers and curiously you of course ask what he does.

“Oh, I’m a mercenary,” he explains simply.

That’s a new one.

“If you are, then you’re doing a bad job at keeping a low profile.” You casually tease. Dave smiles, crinkling his rich earthen eyes.

He of course reveals he works a boring government job. The small talk comes easily afterwards. He makes you laugh and is engaging to talk to. Every worry, every weight that’s been on your shoulders, ebbs away.

Eventually you excuse yourself to the bathroom, but before you move from the bar stool someone yells your name, and your heart drops.

You find Nick, your ex’s best friend, here with other guys from work. You’re terrified.

“You look scared.” Nick laughs mockingly. You’re torn between running or throwing your drink at him.

“You okay? Do you need me to call someone?” Dave swiftly asks worried, and you shake your head.

You head to the bathroom to calm yourself down. After splashing some water on your face, you simply reassure yourself to finally sober up and drive home.

But stepping out of the bathroom into the hallway, you’re not alone.

Nick sneers. “So, heard you’ve been causing my boy some trouble.”

“Your piece of shit fuck of a friend is the one causing me trouble.” You snap. Even though every cell in your body screams to hit this guy in the face, you decide to walk away.

“Fuckin’ bitch.” He curses under his breath.

Nick corners you against the wall in the tight hallway. Disgust bubbles in your throat. You try maneuvering around him, but this asshole is persistent in blocking your path.

Eventually you manage to squeeze past. Unfortunately you trip on Nick’s obviously held out foot and fall forward fast.

You hit the bar’s stone flooring hard. The asshole who tripped you laughs. Anger, embarrassment, or a deadly combination of the two swirls in your chest.

Someone however quickly steps in between you and Nick’s menacing shadow.

“Leave, before I show you out.” Hearing Dave’s voice your eyes widen. You again didn’t even hear him approach or see him walk in.

“What the fuck man, I didn’t do shit she just tripped!” Nick sneers with a snake venom infused lie.

Dave doesn’t say anything, instead helps you up with steady hands. Nick calls you a fucking cunt under his breath before he walks away.

Suddenly he trips on air falling flat on his face. The crack of the impact is loud, and he screams. Everyone close by gasps and when Nick sits up, his nose bleeds violently as crimson spills onto his work attire.

You almost want to laugh.

“Sweet revenge.” You mutter smug to yourself.

Dave chuckles low, and you smile softly to him.

His cologne, dark and rich, expensive as hell, and his deep eyes are a comfort.

The ambulance is called for Nick. Dave urges you to let the paramedics check your wounds too.

“I just need a few bandaids, that’s all.” You urge, but the sharp pleading look he gives makes you stay.

Eventually even the paramedic treating your scrapes whispers with a warm friendly grin. “Make sure to get his number.”

But when you glance out to find Dave, it’s like he disappeared into thin air. After getting the clear from the medic, you head outside to the secluded parking lot behind the bar. You want to at least thank him.

There outside in the quiet secluded lot Dave types something on his phone. Before you can even call out to him -

You literally watch Dave walk into the dark shadow of the building and disappear.

You’re sobered up. Your eyes are fine. You know what you saw. Your confusion only solidifies and gets confirmed when Dave flickers back out to the same spot from the shadows. He stares at you with dangerous cloudy eyes.

“Fuck.” He exhales.

With a sigh, this strange man nudges his chin towards you signaling to follow him. You sit in the passenger's seat of his sleek luxury car. You don’t panic. Prickling curiosity and slight confusion run through you more than fear.

“So are you like… a witch or something?” You ask weakly.

Dave barks a dry laugh.

“No, nice guess though.”

He apparently isn’t a demonic figure either, though his face darkens when you ask that.

“I wasn’t fully lying about the mercenary hitman job. I just happen to be something else.”

Specifically, he calls himself the god of vengeance.

You laugh now.

“Wait, what?” You settle confused seeing him glare unamused at you.

He says his true name -

Viðarr

The name rolls off his tongue a beautiful wave and has the hum of an ancient forest. A chill even runs up your spine.

“But after so many years and aliases, you can just call me Dave.”

This guy can’t be serious.

“You just saw me walk in and out of a shadow, but now you’re doubtful?” His eyebrows raise.

He’s right of course. But the atmosphere in the car freezes tense, like this man waits for you to react or maybe you’re waiting for him to react.

“What’s going to happen to me then?” Your voice creaks, hesitant and worried.

“Normally? I would erase your memories. But…because of your situation, this actually might work out.”

This supposed god of vengeance explains how your situation has been brought to his attention.

“I’m here to decide if that ex of yours should face retribution or not.”

Your blood runs cold. You never once mentioned your ex.

“I need at least a month to observe him. So my original plan was to try and stay close to you. But since you know about me…this might work to my advantage.” Dave explains all this as if he’s simply explaining a new insurance plan to you.

“I still need to figure out the details-”

“Just…can I please just go home…” you finally croak out cutting Dave out.

The air in the car pops.

“Uh…yeah sure.” Dave says deflated. “Do you need me to take you home?”

You shake your head no. Wearily, fighting back tears, you thank him for the drinks and for dealing with Nick.

Your head spins. You don’t know how you manage to get home. Yet you can’t stop thinking about Dave and who he truly is. His words linger, especially about how he has to observe the situation with your ex…

Your mind turns and turns.

But the next day you head back to the bar.

Leaning against his sleek car looking devilishly handsome, Dave waits.

Before he can even say anything you slide into the passenger's seat. He follows your lead.

“I have an idea.” You declare firm.

A somber, suspicious, look falls over the god of vengeance’s face. He doesn’t say anything, just nods, a signal for you to speak.

This is your plan.

Dave needs to be your fake boyfriend.

“My ex…he was the worst when he got jealous.” You explain how he even messaged and harassed an old coworker cause he was paranoid you were cheating.

So maybe now adding the pressure of a new boyfriend would make him show his true nature even more.

Dave’s eyes light up, surprised.

“That’s…not a bad idea at all.” He even mutters about how this would allow him to get better observation from your side of things.

Dave simply nods, turning to you determined.

He holds his hand out almost anti-climatic. However, that's when you realize how easy it is to shake vengeance's hand.

Later at your apartment the neighbor furthest down the hall perks up seeing you in the landing.

“Did you see?! We have someone new moving in. And he’s really cute.” He whispers while he accompanies you on your walk.

Walking up the stairs a few boxes clutter the hallway.

Dave steps out of the open door and smiles. He’s ditched the suit blazer and tie. Now his button up shirt is rolled up to his elbows. You almost choke on an inhale.

“Hey.” His voice radiates sparkling and friendly, a picture perfect sweet guy next door. “You lovely folks must be my new neighbors. I just moved in. Nice to meet you both.”

You act as nice and calm as you can when warmly greeting him. The minute you step into your apartment you try not to freak.

A solid knock comes at your door. Opening it, Dave stands grinning slightly coyish and smug.

“You got any sugar, neighbor?”

You almost slam the door in his face. But of course you let him in.

“Thought moving in would help. It makes for a good alibi, getting with the guy you just met in your apartment. Plus being close by helps to see if your ex pulls any shit.” Dave explains while he inquisitively looks around your place.

You get his logic. It just takes you by surprise.

“See you around, neighbor.” He nods with a gleam of dark playfulness brewing in his eyes.

Already this man, or this ancient being, seems like such an enigma.

That’s only confirmed when Saturday arrives and someone knocks at your door.

Dave once again stands on the other side. This time in a lightly casual outfit of a leather jacket and jeans that still seem effortlessly put together. He reminds you of a guy who owns a home in the hamptons.

“Thought we’d go out on a date. If you’re free.” He offers, and you have to force your jaw not to drop.

He ends up taking you to the city’s aquarium and pays for everything.

“We can get lunch or something afterwards if you like.” Dave suggests.

You remember this is all for show.

So you take this time as a chance to enjoy a day among the gorgeous fish and beautiful blue waves all around.

But even admiring the angelic jellyfish, a worried itch crawls at the back of your neck. Your ex has shown up at the worst time in places you never would have ever expected.

A warm hand comes against your back, and Dave’s wonderful birch cologne clouds your mind.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here. Won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice, deep and low, is simple and absolute in his promise.

When you focus on him, the soft light of the aquarium bathes him ethereally highlighting his godly features. You can now see why he’s not a simple mortal man. Someone this gorgeous is unearthly.

As promised Dave stays close beside you. You even start relaxing so much that you ask him questions.

You had been wondering if he really does work at a government job.

“No, I run a private investigation agency. Didn’t wanna tell you that and scare you off thinking it was your ex after you.” He explains.

“How does an ancient god run an agency?” You ask dubious and slightly amused.

Dave rolls his eyes.

“The same way you’re taking this all really well. It just becomes a natural thing.” Dave says while you and him pass by a lovely stretch of coral reefs and fish. “Plus some families are in service to me, have been for centuries. So this helps them continue to work for and with me.”

“A private investigation agency must help with confirming and keeping track of things. Plus a god with a job seems humbling.” You lamely add, and he snorts.

“Yeah something like that. It also weeds out which cases aren’t fair.”

That shocks you, and you press more. Among the dreamy blue waters glossing over the room, you and Dave stroll leisurely.

“As simple as vengeance can be, I’m honor bound to only act if the situation is deemed justified.”

He even goes into detail about how situations are weighed out, determined, and how the hearts of people are almost judged. A worried heaviness arrives. You now hope your situation can pass this trail.

Thankfully the aquarium is rather vacant so you don’t worry about someone overhearing. But, you’re also wondering why Dave freely discusses this with you.

“Because you won’t remember any of this.” His answer is collected, faintly frosty and curt.

“Anytime I’ve had to talk to other mortals I normally erase their memories, along with anyone else involved, once everything is done. It keeps everyone safe.”

“Oh.” Your voice dips.

So, you won’t remember him.

“It’s for the better for everyone.” Dave adds calculated.

For some reason a strange tightness settles now over you. Dave and you stay silent the rest of this strange date.

He walks you back to your apartment door, and you politely thank him for the nice afternoon.

Resolution settles in you. You swear to not take any of this personally. After all, you won’t remember it.

For being an ancient god of vengeance, Dave is a surprisingly considerately sweet boyfriend.

He drops by with coffee and pastries when he can. After he exchanged phone numbers with you, he even sent you a meme that made you laugh. Playfully you had texted back -

Didn’t know old gods could have such a good sense of humor or could text

He sent an unamused emoji face after that.

Everyone of course takes note of Dave’s new place in your life. Your sister even wants to meet the new guy.

“I know it’s been hard… this year. But seeing you try getting back out there and hearing how good this guy is already, I’m happy for you.” She says. You swallow back the heaviness and truth wanting to slip away.

But you won’t spoil this gilded lie. You can’t.

That’s what you tell yourself when you invite Dave over for dinner at your place.

Lounging eased in your living room watching the game, he’s the picture of comfort. Especially in his casual jogger pants and soft sweatshirt.

You hate how much you enjoy seeing him in your space. It’s been isolating these past few months with how awful your ex has been. Now it’s like slowly gaining a new friend. You at least can appreciate that with Dave.

But thinking of him just as a friend is getting murky, especially since you find yourself staring at his gorgeous shoulders and cute ass while he stands in your living room.

Dave is extremely handsome, charming, playfully snarky and surprisingly perceptive. It’s hard trying not to get swept into this idea of being his.

The next date night he takes you to see a movie. Walking back from the apartment’s parking garage he offers his arm, and you greedily take it.

“Okay, next time I’m picking the movie cause I can’t trust your taste I’m sorry.” Dave argues jokingly, almost flirty. You snicker but readily argue about how good the movie was while staying linked in the crook of his elbow.

A familiar voice yells out your name, and your soul evaporates.

You freeze on instinct. From across the street, your ex approaches slowly. Your legs almost give out.

“So it’s true. You’re dating someone.” He says in disbelief. You can’t even speak, can’t handle how terrifyingly sharp his terrified eyes stare at you.

Suddenly Dave effortlessly slides in front of you, completely protectively blocking you. His hand moves to intertwine with yours.

“You need to leave.” Dave declares firm.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Your ex fires back.

“You’re making my girlfriend upset. So that means this is my problem now.” Dave’s words cut through the air deadly, and your heart flutters.

It’s the first time he’s addressed you as that - girlfriend.

“Girlfriend? Girlfriend?!” Your ex boyfriend cries, horrified and upset. You only realize you’re shaking when Dave squeezes your hand, stabilizing you.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Dave orders with a commanding yell.

Your ex continues trying to talk to you, but it’s all nonsense, almost waterlogged with your head feeling fuzzy.

Dave shifts to now pull you completely into his side and guides you back into the apartment complex. Your ex’s voice grows more distant until you’re safe inside. Thankfully he isn’t allowed on the property anymore.

Your hand clutches Dave’s refusing to let go. He keeps you in his hold the entire time even arriving at your door.

Whenever this happens you always head to your parents or sister’s place. You already think about packing a bag.

“Hey,” Dave’s voice softly interrupts your cluttered thoughts.

“Do you…want to stay at my place tonight?”

When you turn towards him, vengeance has never looked this beautiful. His eyes are glossy, drenched with understanding.

You nod.

Dave helps grab your essentials then guides you back to his apartment. Even with the roller coaster still running in your mind, you perk up knowing you’re finally seeing his place.

It’s sleek, immaculate in its cooler toned shades. However it also radiates a spartan aesthetic. The walls are moderately barren. On the counter though various items from all the dates you’ve gone with him, like the aquarium map, litter the space.

That comforts you knowing he’s kept them.

“You can take my bed really, I don’t mind.” He offers.

You shake your head. “The couch is perfect really.”

Now stubbornly Dave sits beside you on the couch, and you snort.

“I won’t leave until you do.” Dave grins.

You snuggle into the couch more, almost defiant in pulling the blankets up. The ancient god rolls his eyes, but makes no sign of moving either.

“That ex of yours...” Dave cautiously comments.

“Yeah.” You sigh tired.

The rose colored glasses could only hide so much before the toxic emptiness swallowed you. You’re now left with the pieces of yourself you’re still grateful to have and hold together.

Dave patiently sits with you, listening attentive when you tell him everything. After unfolding your heart to him, you almost ache to know more about this mythical man.

So he tells you about ancient kings who called upon his aid for the most trivial things, to actual countries that begged for his wrath.

As he reveals so much, you notice how many shadows weigh on him, aging him in a way that speaks of the eons of trouble he’s faced. It’s like Dave houses an archaic rusted ache you could never fathom.

Something deep within your heart longs to gently run your fingers through his hair, or even hold his hand.

But these thoughts are dangerous to have for a man you won’t even remember in a month's time.

On the couch, not even paying attention to what’s on the television, simply being at peace in Dave’s company, you slowly start falling asleep.

Halfway in the night, you wake up slumped against Dave.

His warm solid shoulders, the soft rise of his chest, you’ve never been this close to him. The faint smell of his cologne mixing his fabric softener, along with something uniquely him, wraps around you a protective delicious comfort.

A delicate shift comes in your heart as you snuggle closer to him.

“I think…I’m going to extend this surveillance to another month.” Dave says when you and him quietly get ready for the morning.

The way he calls this relationship and situation a surveillance punches right through your chest. It reminds you this again is not real. You also can’t believe a month has come and gone.

When you go on another date with Dave, this time to an art museum, he readily holds your hand. It’s awful knowing something in you is crystallizing in adoration.

He’s thoughtful in admiring the art, almost plucked from a hallmark movie dream. As much as you enjoy holding Dave’s hand being by his side, you realize you need to start pulling away before you fall even harder.

Thankfully a text comes in for you to reply to. There's also an alert from Instagram.

One message comes. Then a spam of them flood your inbox. The profile that sent them is blank, and what they sent are horrendous. They call you an absolute whore, argue how you’re nothing more than a pathetic piece of trash.

Your throat gets tight, and your hands shake.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” The pet name causes your heart to skip, but the panic is too much.

Wearily showing him your phone, he frowns dark.

“Only more proof I guess.” You half joke.

Dave thankfully reports the account, but the mood of the day is soured.

“Hey, let’s get something sweet, yeah?” He suggests softly rubbing your back. You agree hoping this will help.

Thankfully it does. Dave is surprisingly talkative, even discussing this one particular client who requested revenge on their old partner because he stole a family secret ice cream recipe.

“You can’t be serious.” You snicker.

“I swear on my godhood!” Dave laughs, and it paints him devilishly young. Though you do tease him for getting rum raisin, and he rolls his eyes.

Now you watch him slowly lick away at the ice cream, letting his tongue drag along the treat slowly. Your mind rapidly catches fire imagining his tongue dragging across your body in just as slow.

It’s getting harder to not want Dave, especially seeing how handsome he looks in his leather jacket and simple t-shirt.

Then at your apartment door, anxiety slowly festers. You don’t want to be alone tonight. You even hesitate grabbing your keys.

Dave tugs on your hand still holding his. “Just stay at my place. I’m heading back to the office tonight so you’ll have the place all to yourself.”

You thank him, grateful for the comfort of just not being in your apartment.

But being alone in his place might have been the worst decision. Curiosity claws into you while you wander. The space stands smaller than yours and is still so sparse. Finally stepping into his bedroom, a dangerous urge bubbles in you.

“Make yourself at home.” He did tell you, so it’s why you slowly pull the covers back and slide into Dave’s bed.

The cold gray sheets fit him. But the smell of him, swirling all around you, enveloping you, has your pussy wet.

You imagine him sleeping here, wondering what he’d look like if he’s ever fucked his fist here -

Your eyes flutter shut while your hand drifts to your underwear. You should feel shame and disgust for getting off in your fake boyfriend's bed, but you quickly rationalize you won’t remember this.

So pressing your face into Dave’s pillow you let your fingers curl into your pussy imagining it’s his thick firm fingers instead.

You come harder than expected. Exhausted and floating in post orgasmic soft bliss you wearily drift to sleep in his bed.

Until noise in the other room suddenly has you bolting up in a slight panic. Hastily you head out into the living room.

In the low light, Dave puts things away in safes and among bags. You catch glimpses of various types of weapons. The one he places back in a duffle bag is a gun. Your heart does jump at the sight, but it makes sense for a god of avenging to have many forms of it.

Dave quickly whips around spotting you.

He’s dressed very differently tonight. In all black athleisure, even wearing black beanie that intensifies his appearance, he looks every bit the hit man he once joked about being.

He says your name soft, a mutter. Your focus goes to the cut across his cheek.

“You’re injured!”

He blinks surprised at your words.

“Oh yeah, got a little hairy tonight. But it’s nothing, should heal up in a couple of hours.”

“You’re still bleeding.” You firmly rummaging around the kitchen for the small first aid kit you remember seeing in one of the drawers.

“Honey, I’m fine.” You can’t even comment on the pet name instead stubbornly grab a bandaid and disinfectant.

“I don’t need a bandaid.” He dully tells you.

“Too bad.” You huff.

Dave sighs, giving up and taking a seat on the couch. The cut isn’t bad, but you still tend to it best as you can. With the briefest glance down, you spy blood crusted over Dave’s fingers.

“So you were out… dealing with someone tonight?” You cautiously question.

He sighs. “Yeah, finally got to take out this awful piece of shit, but he put up a fight.”

You should be rattled hearing him casually discuss violence, even seeing it drying on his hands. But you’re not afraid.

“Glad you made it back safe.” You truthfully tell him.

He chuckles dry. “Always do.”

Gently placing the bandaid on his face, your fingers accidentally graze against him.

Dave appears like a normal man, a handsome business looking guy you met at the bar. But right now he seems to have shed that persona and sits before you a sort of chameleon stuck between identities.

It must be hard to compartmentalize so much like he does. And…it must be lonely.

You don’t realize you’ve gotten lost in your thoughts, allowing your fingers to absentmindedly trace across his cheeks, until Dave’s hand slowly crawls up your wrist.

You’re about to apologize until his eyes lock you in place. His daze simmers between a deep darkness and soft awareness.

His other hand now rubs up against your other arm.

“Thank you.” Dave mutters.

Cautiously he turns towards your fingers still on his face, and his eyes haze over. The hold he has on your wrist slowly drags your hand down his cheek, almost like he’s pulling your fingers to his lips. He inhales deep and instantly his eyes close. You’re hypnotized, waiting to see what he does.

Then a phone goes off, and the moment shatters.

You scramble away. Dave immediately swiftly answers his phone with a professional steeled voice.

Flustered, you’re considering maybe grabbing your things and heading back to your apartment. Dave however calls your name. Like a spooked deer, you turn. He nudges his chin at you.

“Head back to bed sweetheart, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Your mind goes blank as you nod stunned. Then everything melts away. Possessed, maybe floating on a cloud, you slip back into his sheets.

You want to stay awake, want to see him get comfortable and get into bed. But exhaustion wins pulling you back to sleep.

Strong arms slowly curl around you, the warmest protective shield. You even wonder if it’s all a dream.

Especially when you wake up alone.

On the kitchen counter sit your favorite pastries and coffee order with a note from Dave who had to leave to work early. Running into him later heading back to the apartment after work, you notice he’s still wearing the bandaid you placed on him.

It makes you grin wide.

Work eventually gets busy. You miss out on a date weekend which you see as a blessing.

You’re growing too attached to Dave and it’s dangerous. You even ignore a few of his messages he’s been sending you, blaming it on work.

Work even has you staying up late now trying to finish up a few things.

Until a sudden rush pelts against your window, and a small scream escapes you.

You’re on the second floor, what the fuck can possibly be making that noise?

Drawing back the curtains, trash greets you flying hard against the glass. You know it’s your ex and his stupid friends.

You hate that you’re about to cry and that the first person you’re calling -

Is Dave.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He rushes out on the phone.

Before you can answer, from a shadow against your living room wall Dave walks out like he emerged from a door.

Immediately his face drops seeing you and then hearing the rush of shit getting thrown at the window.

Swiftly, moving like a sleek hunter, he pulls a gun out from behind and slides between you and the window. Dave opens the window then very obviously peers out with the gun in hand.

It’s enough to scare your ex and his friends.

You wearily head to the couch and collapse in on yourself. Silent as a shadow Dave draws you into his arms and holds you close.

“Can you stay?” You weakly ask.

“Don’t even have to ask.” He mutters rubbing your back.

Camping out in the living room with piles of blankets and pillows, Dave pulls up a seat against the window, keeping the gun in hand.

Your eyes fully take in the sight of him staring out keeping watch, a haunting stoic sight of brewing composed wrath.

He drips of an ancient blood, old as the galaxies themselves or possibly even older, and you want to cradle that violence in your hands.

“Do I scare you?” He asks quietly in the evening’s abyss.

Still lying on the couch, among your blankets, you shake your head no.

“Feel safe with you.” You mutter truthfully. This is the safest you’ve felt in so long.

You fall asleep without any worry knowing he’s nearby.

After that night, and for the rest of the month, he’s either at your place or you’re at his. One of your chairs becomes a constant spot where he sets his jackets. Your toothbrush keeps his company in his bathroom.

When you’re facetiming with your sister he accidentally walks by, and immediately she perks up.

“Is that the secret mystery man?!” She cries out.

Dave awkwardly waves but charms her with his smile.

“You need to invite him for my big promotion dinner this Friday.” She urges with a hiss.

You snap at her fierce, but when you hang up Dave quietly asks -

“So what time is dinner Friday?”

You throw the nearest couch pillow at him.

But a man to his word, he’s happy to accompany you.

Friday arrives and he’s in a deep navy blue blazer combo that makes your throat dry. His eyes also scan you up and down very blatantly.

“You look lovely tonight.” He mutters, and you thank him saying he looks just as amazing.

And he does.

Your sister playfully nudges you with her elbow. “He’s hot.”

Her husband, your brother in law, even jokes that Dave’s a handsome catch.

Which, to your family, he is. Dave is warm, the absolute dream boyfriend anyone could even imagine.

He pulls out your mom’s chair, happily puts up with your dad’s long stories, bonds really fast with your brother in law and is sweet to your little twin nieces who ramble about their soccer matches. Your heart aches just seeing him interact with everyone and how much they already adore him.

The only thing keeping you afloat is that you, nor them, will remember any of this. But it also haunts you.

You smile fake through it all.

Then during dessert Dave’s hand unprompted moves to rest against your leg. His hand on your skin, so close to the edge of your dress, all of this under the cover of the dinner table sends an electric dizzying current across your body.

Slowly his thumb starts rubbing against your skin, softly, delicately like he has all the time in the world or isn’t bothered about your dad complaining about his work buddies again.

You keep your composure as best as you can.

When the check comes Dave quickly snags it up and doesn’t hesitate sliding his card in to pay. It wins huge points with everyone. Your family showers Dave in thanks and warm embraces.

“Like this guy, happy for you.” Your dad says low while he hugs you tight, and you blink back the tears.

“Yeah dad, me too.”

The car ride back to the apartment, you’re silent.

Dave however tries to push through the tension talking all about your family.

“They’re lovely. Your nieces are adorable too. One of them was constantly trying to make me laugh the entire time.”

You smirk while still remaining quiet.

“Hey… you alright?” He of course notices. You also make

no sign of following him back to his apartment.

“Just let me get a few things and I’ll be over in a bit-”

“No Dave, it’s okay. I think I just wanna be alone tonight.”

You cut him off gently.

A moment of silence comes. You’re thankful he doesn’t push, just wishes you goodnight and heads to his apartment.

The silence eats at your insides leaving you empty.

The next morning you don’t wait to walk out with him or even text him. For an entire week you stay quiet and try avoiding him as much as possible.

Then on Monday, flowers wait for you on your desk. All you coworkers coo at the beautiful blooms.

Your heart however melts at the card.

Thinking of you, hope you’re alright.

It’s simple, very Dave.

After work you start typing out a thank you text to send to Dave, including a photo of the flowers.

New footsteps echo in the parking garage, and you don’t think much of them. Until you hear Nick’s slimey voice say your name.

Turning around, he casually saunters with the smuggest sneer.

“You okay? You don’t look too good.” He grins bigger as he continues walking towards you.

He’s just here to scare you, especially since he works close by and now that you put the restraining order on your ex.

Walk away and get to your car, the voice in your head, now sounding so much like Dave, urges.

You turn on your heels and rush to your car.

“You’re such a god damn fucking bitch, you know that?” He yells still behind you.

Calm, you try remaining calm.

Then someone runs up from behind. Everything dissolves into pure fear. You turn around and there Nick rushes forward to you in a frenzied terrifying glee.

Dave suddenly emerges from the other side of another parked car and grabs Nick.

“What the fuck?!” Nick cries. “Where the hell did you come from?”

Dave quietly glares deathly cold at Nick.

Then a snap comes, a popping of bone and Nick screams in pure pain cradling his hand. Dave stares composed, unbothered.

“You broke my fucking fingers, what the fuck?!” Nick snarls.

With his good hand, Nick moves to punch Dave.

You cry out in a panic.

Dave, no…the god of vengeance now before you, in his hand captures Nick’s fist before it can even land a hit, casually holding him back.

Fluidly, with a nightmarish grace, Dave twists Nick’s arm back forcefully in disarming him from an attack. Another crack of bone and Nick cries out again.

The god leans in close to Nick.

“You try harassing my girl again and I will make this much worse.” He says low, lethal.

Nick screams like a caged animal until Dave shoves him away. For a moment you’re terrified Nick is going to charge, try throwing another fist, but he scurries away like a broken little rat.

Dave’s gaze, empty and cold, watches Nick the entire time until he’s gone. Then the mask falls as he rushes to you with the most worried frown.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You are, thanks to him. You’re still trying to process fully what happened.

“What are you doing here?” You manage to ask.

“After that text you sent, I came up to check up on you.” Dave answers.

When you check your phone, he’s right. You had been in the middle of typing out your text to Dave when Nick had showed up. The text became a mess of letters that you had accidentally sent.

“Didn’t seem like you.” Dave adds.

His hand softly drags across your cheek with the most delicate pressure, like moth wings, and it electrifies your heart. Your eyes snap to Dave. His face is harder than ever to read, foggy in thick emotions.

Before he can put you anymore under his spell, you move first. Thanking him for showing up and for protecting you, you return to head back to your car. Dave stays in step with you, offering to drive you home, and you let him.

Quietly you finally thank him for the flowers and apologize for forgetting them.

“It’s fine.” He reassures you. “I’ll just have to send you more.”

His voice soothes you, and you almost grin.

Back at the apartment a mess of feelings get tangled in you.

“Do you need me to stay?”

You shake your head no to Dave.

After a small pause, he wishes you well and a good night.

But you can’t sleep. And Dave continues haunting you. It's why you’re now across the hall knocking on his door after midnight.

He answers quickly. You’re surprised to discover him in the all dark outfit except this time without a beanie and with how wild his short hair looks you wonder if he just yanked it off.

He breathes your name with worried eyes.

“I’m sorry. Can I…stay over?” Your voice is small, worried.

He welcomes you in without hesitation.

You keep your gaze away from his, but that's when you catch the blood on his hands. This time the blood is fresh.

“Are you okay?” You squawk panicked.

“Oh. Uh yeah. Nothing serious.” Dave shrugs.

He effortlessly changes the subject telling you about the new restaurant he wants to try with you.

“Go lay down, honey. I’ll be with you soon.” He urges. You don’t want to fight him. You should but don’t.

In his bedroom you watch him undress for the night. His bare shoulders are stunning and you want to kiss the gorgeous pudge of his soft stomach. The delicate warm light paints him a dream.

“Dave…” you ask, fading in and out of sleep now among the safety of him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you get lonely?” Your words slip out.

He doesn’t answer for a moment.

“Why do you ask that?”

Sleepily you shrug already groggy.

“Just seems like you are.” You admit through a yawn.

You see it in the hollows of his apartment, in the somber looks that create cocoons in his eyes from time to time.

You’re worried you’ve upset Dave with how quiet he gets. Instead his hand moves to turn off the light by the nightstand. You notice he’s holding something else in his grasp.

“Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

You nod at his words, closing your eyes.

But before you fall to sleep, you swear you saw Dave holding a phone with an obnoxious neon and black green case… one that looked exactly like Nick’s.

The next morning Dave is gone again, this time leaving you various breakfast bars to take.

Back at your apartment you scroll taking a break from getting ready. Someone posted in their story about Nick not coming home and that no one has heard from him.

You try not to focus on that and head to work.

More flowers, as promised, wait on your desk.

“You’re so lucky.” Your favorite coworker gushes. You weakly grin at her.

The day goes by slowly. Until your sister calls you frantic over the phone.

Your ex had showed up at your nieces school.

You feel sick. Your boss thankfully lets you leave, but you’re barely aware of how your body moves. You even forget the flowers again.

Yet your hands shakily manage to make a call.

“Hope you liked the flowers.” Dave answers smooth, almost purr like.

All you do is croak out his name. In the instant of getting off the elevator, Dave emerges from the shadow of the hallway. You’re thankful no one is around, but then again, you could care less now.

“What happened?” He frowns hard.

Telling him everything, you crumble sobbing in Dave’s arms.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” His sincerely comforting voice and warm arms all wrap around you.

He places a soft kiss on your head.

“Come on, let’s head home.” He guides you to the shadow, holding you tight. In a simple step you’re walking right out into your living room.

So, that’s what it’s like.

Sitting down everything feels too much, yet numbing all at once.

“This is all my fault.” You mutter, vacant.

If you hadn’t dated that fucker, you wouldn’t be here.

“No,” Dave says firmly. His eyebrows are furrowed hard, stern and upset. “None of this is your fault.”

A numb nod is all you give.

The window suddenly shatters. A rock flies into your room and you scream.

“You fucking bitch, I know you did something to Nick!” Your ex howls from outside. “You and that fucking creep boyfriend of yours!”

This can’t be happening. How did he even know you were home?

Dave moves swift. He protectively pulls you further away from the living room. Reaching into the inky shadows, he pulls out a large duffle bag. From that Dave unpacks a firearm. Not just any gun, a sleek sniper rifle. He readies the weapon up and out the window.

It’s a dead threat in the middle of the day. Dave’s face completely composed reminds you of a hunter.

And he’s beautiful.

The sight of Dave and that terrifying weapon must have scared your ex because there’s no sign of him after that. You even delete all your social media now out of fear.

Dave takes care of everything. Discussing the window break with the building's supervisors, even calling the cops to report what happened.

You now sit in Dave’s living room.

“Viðarr.”

You speak his true name, the one that feels incredibly scared and almost too holy on your tongue. The air in the room tightens fast. Dave, who halfway is trying to figure out what to make for dinner, stops.

A grave expression paints him an ancient terror.

Your stare back at him is just as serious.

“I need vengeance.” No more. You can’t handle any more of this.

Dave, quiet, silent as a shadow, nods. That’s all, the agreement of it. It seems so very anticlimactic.

“You know,” he mutters. “By accepting this…you have to give something up.”

Dave had told you about this briefly. Once he accepts a case, takes up the mantle of retribution, it comes at a price. You must offer something up.

“I’ll let you think about it.” He mutters.

But you don’t need to. You shake your head.

Slowly, possessed, yet never feeling more solid in your decision you walk to Dave’s bedroom.

Politely you sit on the bed.

Dave follows you and stares with a furrowed brow.

“What are you doing?”

“Me,” you say low. “I’m offering myself. Whatever you need.”

Dave’s flint eyes go wide. He swallows hard, a small crack in his composed armor.

“That’s…I can’t accept.” His voice croaks.

“Why not?” You frown hard.

He exhales, running a hand over his face.

“Because…you…” he pauses for a moment.

“It’s dangerous to want you the way I do. And accepting… don’t know if I’m strong enough to deny you.”

You inhale sharp.

He removes his hand from his face and now stands a man composed of stardust and beautiful retribution.

“There are other things you can offer.” He offers a weak attempt to persuade you. Yet he slowly walks to you, a hunter before prey.

You shake your head.

Cautiously, now that he stands so close you grab Dave’s hand. Slowly, hesitantly, you guide his hand up to your heart then rest your hand above his.

“This…I’m yours.” You admit weakly.

This is your oath, your sacrifice and offering. Though it does not feel like a burden of an effigy, no source of pain or flames of anguish over this decision.

It almost feels holy and sacred in its simplicity.

Your heart will always follow him, Dave, Viðarr, whichever form or soul he took, yours would be tied to him.

“It’s…that’s not an easy sacrifice.” His voice is thick, laced with a burnt hidden depth you take comfort in.

“For you it is.” You reply.

Something shifts in Dave, like his eyes waver and humanity shines through, a shimmering gloss over.

His hand over your heart moves slowly gliding up your chest, up your neck. His hand on your skin blazes a heated path. Now he cradles your face

“Oh baby….” He hoarsely says, and your world collapses to be reborn in an instant.

“I’m yours.” You whimper.

Dave kisses you with a collision of a star being created. It’s nipping teeth and a fierce passion that immediately has him licking into your mouth as if he’s trying to swallow you whole.

He’s unrelenting, a war general on a mission as his hands immediately start to peel off your clothes.

You now lie only in your underwear on his bed. You should feel exposed, almost awkward that he still wears all his clothes, but for some reason it heightens your arousal. Being bare and laid up for him as offering…

“You swear?” Dave croaks, a final offering for you to back down.

You nod firm and absolute. “I swear.”

He nods.

“Then I'll be your justice for you. All yours, and you’ll be mine.”

Your heart flutters. Revenert, you thank him and whisper his name, a debauched prayer.

Dave pounces on you fast.

He licks a trail up your chest to your neck, biting when he can and you whine.

“So fucking sweet.” He slurs, nibbling at your chest and sucking at your nipple.

His tongue swirling across your skin has your mind melting.

“Open your mouth for me, baby.” But then he quickly demands.

Rising up, Dave leans above you and you willingly open your mouth.

He takes a moment to gaze at you, then effortlessly spits down into your mouth. You feel dizzy when it hits your tongue. You greedily swallow, closing your eyes.

“Good fucking girl.”

That makes you feel even more electrified.

“Oh you like when I call you that huh?” Dave says slurred.

How? How can he tell? Your face must tell him everything as his hands begin to slither all across your body.

“I can smell you.” He whispers thick.

That truth hits you breathless. He’s not a normal man. Of course he would have heightened senses.

“That night… that night you slept in my bed. I smelt you still on your fingers and in my bed.” Dave admits.

You moan half embarrassed and half drunk.

“Almost took you right then and there.” He reveals. His large hand cups your jaw, rubbing his thumb hard across your lips.

“You want more? My good girl wants more, huh?”

“Yeah.” You nod feeling every inhibition slip away.

He kisses down your body then when he reaches your core, he presses his face against you and deep.

Dave groans like he got punched in the stomach.

“Shit, wanna fucking eat you alive.” He slurs, biting at you gently through the fabric of your panties.

“Dave, please.” You squirm wanting more, begging him for him.

“My sweet girl, so polite.” He kisses your pussy over your underwear then rips it apart. You gasp, and he kisses your thigh.

“I’ll buy you more.” Dave mumbles dark.

He drinks all you give you, sends you to a new realm. His fingers fuck into you wild and reckless as he sucks at your clit possessed. It feels like your world is being destroyed in the most beautiful little death. Then his fingers curl against that oh so delicious spot making you scream.

“Yeah baby, give it to me.” He growls.

You come hard clutching at Dave’s hair.

His face glistens, and you feeling possessive now pull him to you. You kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips, and it’s divine.

Drunk on this moment, you bring his fingers that were inside of you into your mouth

The thickness of Dave’s fingers, the salt of his skin mixing with your cum, it all has your eyes rolling back.

“Oh fuck yes, good girl, suck on ‘em.” He purrs, moving his fingers in and out.

Soon enough he pushes them back a bit further, making you gag but he urges you on sweetly. He suddenly pulls his fingers into his mouth and sucks them now closing his eyes.

“We taste so good together.” He hoarsely sighs.

“Dave… Vidðarr.” You whisper both his names.

His lips find yours in a blazing force.

This god takes apart your world and carves it new. You’ve never had someone touch you with the reverence of a sacred altar, yet also fuck you raw like you were his to destroy.

Your legs can barely move, and you simply now exist a blissed out puddle on Dave’s bed. But you happily bask in his arms.

“So much for fake dating.” You joke.

Dave smirks against your forehead.

“Stopped being fake a while ago.” He admits, and you curl into him more.

“You know, I’ve wanted to ask.” You shift in his arms to get a better look at his handsome clean shaven face. You feel smug seeing the bite marks, your marks, across his delicious exposed throat.

“How did you even find me?” You ask. He mentioned that sometimes some people pray to him, even try to summon him.

You did none of that. He did tell you once that everyone in your life wished for justice for you, and it’s why he possibly was summoned. But you were never satisfied with that.

Dave exhales. “Your soul called to me. I just answered.”

His words flutter through your chest. You’re the one now leaning forward to kiss him.

But then sorrow tarnishes this moment.

“When…when will you erase my memory?” You just hope he will give you a heads up, let you prepare.

Dave pulls back, and his face is scrunched up in confusion.

“You’re mine now. Don’t need to wipe your memory.”

His words rush into you but in the best way. A relieved sob escapes and you rush to pepper so many kisses across his face.

Dave smirks soaking it all up, a pleased cat in the sun..

Eventually he does get up, and with the shadows that drape over him, he becomes the hands of wrath and retribution. Your vengeance.

Those hands cradle your face tenderly.

“I have to honor my end of the oath. I’ll be back.” Dave doesn’t need to say more, and you don’t need to either. He kisses you softly then melts into the darkness.

The god vengeance doesn’t return until the late night, witching hour.

He’s covered in blood, hauntingly so, but it paints him a warrior.

Dave moves to kneel before you.

Gently, his blood hands place something in your palm. You’re reminded of a cat that brings its owner dead mice to show it can protect and bring you prey.

Instead you discover your ex’s college class ring, the one he was never seen without.

You want to laugh. You want to cry.

Instead you slide out of bed and gently kiss Dave gentle. You wordlessly lead him into the bathroom. With sacred grace you peel off Dave’s clothes.

His eyes, soft and dark, never leave you. In the warm shower, you wash him clean with all the thanks and adoration you can muster.

Dave eventually gathers you in his arms and under the warm, you let it cleanse something deep in you.

Here, you find a new home safe within the arms of vengeance and you hope he never lets you go.

[oneforthemunny]

friday the thirteenth |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you and eddie go to the drive in. a small blurb that's apart of the oneforthemunny's spooky story series! also eddie edit made possible by @eddiemunsonsmum :)

Friday, October 13th, 1989 

“Hey, make sure you hide those snacks, ok?” Eddie muttered, a ringed hand gripping the wheel, blowing smoke out the open window.

“I don’t think they’ll all fit in the glove box.” You frown, shoving the crinkling wrappers of honey buns and kit-kat under miscellaneous papers, a few lighters that were stored away in there. 

“Just put ‘em under the blanket, sweetheart.” Eddie nodded, flicking the cigarette out the window, arm craning behind him for the blankets you’d thrown in from home. 

“They won’t look?” Your eyes cut to Eddie’s carefully, grabbing the aged quilt from his grasp. 

“No, they’re not gonna search the van, baby.” Eddie grinned. “Just look in. Just make sure it’s covered, alright?” 

Undoing your own seatbelt, spreading the blanket over the snacks, feet tucked under your legs. Eddie tapped on the cracked leather of the steering wheel with excitement, rolling to a stop on the gravel behind the line of cars. “I’m so fuckin’ excited.” He admitted, eyes sparkling through the gloom dullness of the gray Indiana sky. 

“Yeah?” You giggle. His smile was infectious, made your heart warm with an overwhelming sense of adoration. “I can tell.” 

“This was a good idea. Coming early, because look at this line, babe.” Eddie tilted the rearview mirror to look at the piling line of cars behind him. All swarming to the Hawkins Drive-In for the double feature of Halloween and Friday the Thirteenth… on Friday the thirteenth. 

“Good call with that.” Eddie smiled over at you, heat spilling over your cheeks at his praise. Eddie’s hand fell on your thigh lightly, squeezing your thigh playfully.

 “Oh, shit. Look at that guy. Shoulda brought my mask, huh?” Eddie nodded towards the teenagers parked in the back, running around in their Jason and Michael masks. 

“Yeah… maybe don’t park over there, though.” You cut your eyes at the teenagers, screeching and jumping off their tailgates. 

“Why?” Eddie smirked, van rolling in line slowly towards the ticket stand. “You scared? Afraid they’ll get you-” 

“-No-” 

“-Because I get it, babe. It is Friday the thirteenth. It’s a very scary night. I’d be scared too.” Eddie teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re scared, Munson?” 

“Maybe. Maybe ‘m just excited.” Eddie smirked, long lashes batting at you sweetly. The van creeped towards the ticket stand. “I wasn’t gonna park there anyways, but they did take my spot, fuckin’ assholes.” 

“Your spot?” Your brows lifted in amusement. 

“Yeah, good makeout spot.” Eddie smirked at your scoff, stopping in front of the ticket stand. 

Your head rested against the seat rest, Eddie’s curls illuminated in the bright light of the ticket stand. Rings catching in the light when he handed them the money, bracelets peeking out from the leather of his jacket when he took the tickets. He looked so pretty; so content. 

“Can you put it on the station?” Eddie muttered, shifting gears so the van rolled with a low grunt over the gravel. “You wanna be more towards the front?” 

“I’m fine wherever, Ed.” You hum, turning the dial slowly. “You’re the expert, right, baby?” 

A huff of a laugh left his lips, curling in a small smile. “Yeah. Think there’s a spot up here if this jackass in a wagon doesn’t take it- Christ, who’s taking kids to this kind of movie? Fuck that, we’re not going there. I’m not listening to screaming the whole time.” 

“Maybe they’re older kids?” You grin, the comical tune of the pre-movie show tune playing through the speakers. “Or could be big horror fans. You didn’t like scary movies as a kid?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not fun going with your parents.” Eddie rolled his eyes, reversing into a back spot slowly. “Gotta sneak it or it’s not fun.” 

“Like the candy, hm? That’s the thrill of it?” 

“Exactly.” Eddie smirked, jamming the gear to park. 

“Shit, this part is good, baby. Look.” Eddie whispered, lips still pressed to yours, hand sliding from your jaw slowly. 

“I don’t wanna look, just-” You pawed at his jacket collar, pulling him closer, back into your kiss. 

“-Wait, wait, this is the good part. Hold on.” Eddie muttered, eyes zoned in onto the screen, sitting back onto the van’s floor. 

You huffed, pushing up on your forearms to look at the screen, lips numb from the cold air and Eddie, just in time to see Michael Myers take a victim- a brutal slashing that had the entire lot grimacing out loud. 

“Oh, that’s fucking sick.” You cringe, looking at the van’s floor instead of the movie, stomach twisting uncomfortable. 

“Very fuckin’ sick. Wonder how they do that, huh? Like the special effects shit like that.” Eddie grinned, body buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. 

“I don’t know. They better have won whatever award there is for that, because that,” You nodded towards the screen, the dismembered, bloody body lying there. “Is disgusting.” 

“Wait until you see Jason’s victims. Makes Michael look tame.” Eddie grinned, head falling against the pillow, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Can’t believe you’ve never seen these.” 

“No way.” You wrinkle your nose at the screen. “More of a Beetlejuice fan or Elvira. I always liked that movie.”

“Yeah? Me too.” Eddie smirked. “Really liked that one.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, you did.” 

“I like a spooky babe. Can you blame me?” Eddie pulled you close to his side, lips smacking against your cheek. 

“Oh? So you don’t like me, huh?” You glare at him lightly. “Just wasting my time, Munson?” 

“No way.” Eddie shook his head, looking over at you. “You’re a total spooky babe.” 

You roll your eyes, scoffing lightly. “‘M serious.” Eddie squeezes your thigh gently. “You’re doing this with me.” He nodded towards the screen. “Yeah.” You hum, eyes cutting to the screen, grimacing at the chase scene. “Guess I must love you or something to sit through two of these.”

[dankmaths]

I'm like 90% sure if I don't get more of your ghost au I may just implode so like 🥺👉👈

not necessarily my AU but i ended up drawing smth based on a scene from @novethegreat's fic, "In Love With A Ghost". ooohhhh you wanna read it so bad ooooohh

+more google doc delusions ive had in my head for a long time and havent been possessed to draw under the cut please work god please

i like to think once yosuke gets over the whole undead roommate thing he starts to feel bad for leaving yu at home all day. (like a pet dog.....) so at some point he invites chie and yukiko over. maybe it’s a study session. but at first yukiko can’t make it so it’s just chie. yosuke tells yu to stay put in the room since chie is scared of ghosts (just like yosuke she’ll never admit it though lol). chie says that she and yukiko have been working on a new recipe and offers to cook which yosuke shoots down Very quickly, offering to cook himself, since a "friend" of his has been teaching him-- he very conveniently leaves out the whole undead roommate thing. but when he’s preparing the food he accidentally cuts his finger. yu forgets what he’s told and rushes through the walls into the kitchen scaring chie on accident.

yosuke: OW shit

yu: (phasing through the wall) yosuke! are you ok?

chie: yosuke! are youuuuuuUUUUAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

yukiko, the occult lover, is unable to see/hear ghosts… but when she hears abt "OHHH HANAMURAS APT IS HAUNTED ITS SO SCARY ITS AWFUL!!! i mean the ghost didnt kill me or anything he was actually pretty polite but its AWFUL!!!!!!" from chie, she gets sooo excited and begs yosuke to invite her over (for the ghost obviously not for yosuke. which is a bit of a blow to his ego LOL). and she comes in with a ouija board so she can talk to yu

yukiko: so. where is it?

yosuke: his name is yu. damn, not even a hello.

yukiko: well, where is he?

yosuke: …right over there.

yu tries to play along bc he thinks its fun, to yosukes exasperation. however he has trouble staying solid for very long so it takes foreverrrrr. but basically i think yu and yukiko writing each other notes to communicate like point blank pen pals would be cute… also when the others are around who can hear yu, playing telephone with what he says to yukiko and fucking it up (on accident OR on purpose) would be rly funny