#darkromance

[s-soulwriter]

Dark past ideas

A dark past can be really intresting in books .here are some ideas:

Mysterious Orphanage Escapee: A character who grew up in a sinister orphanage and narrowly escaped its dark secrets.

Traumatic War Survivor: A soldier who witnessed unspeakable horrors on the battlefield, leaving deep emotional scars.

Secret Criminal Past: A reformed criminal who once led a life of violence, but is now trying to make amends.

Kidnapped as a Child: A character who was abducted at a young age and endured years of captivity before escaping.

Tragic Family Betrayal: A character who was betrayed by a close family member, leading to a life filled with distrust and pain.

Cult Escapee: Someone who managed to break free from a dangerous cult, but is haunted by their past involvement.

Haunted by a Violent Crime: A person who accidentally caused harm to someone in their past and has been tormented by guilt ever since.

Dark Addiction: A character who battled a severe addiction that nearly destroyed their life before seeking recovery.

Betrayed by a Friend: A friend who turned out to be a traitor, leading to significant emotional trauma.

Abandoned in Isolation: Someone who was left alone and abandoned in a desolate place, struggling to survive.

Witness to a Murder: A character who saw a murder as a child and was forever scarred by the experience.

Childhood Experimentation: A person who was subjected to unethical scientific experiments in their youth, leaving lasting physical and emotional scars.

Kidnapped and Forced into Crime: A character who was abducted and forced to commit criminal acts against their will.

Betrayed by a Mentor: Someone who was betrayed by a trusted mentor, leading to a deep sense of betrayal and loss.

Survived Natural Disaster: A survivor of a catastrophic natural disaster who lost everything they held dear.

Abusive Relationship Escapee: A person who managed to escape an abusive relationship, but continues to struggle with the trauma.

Witness to a Dark Ritual: A character who stumbled upon a sinister occult ritual in their past, leaving them haunted by the experience.

Family Curse: A character burdened by a dark family curse that has brought suffering to generations.

Identity Theft and Framing: A person who had their identity stolen and was wrongfully accused of crimes they didn't commit.

[riddleswhcre]

ᝰ.ᐟ just thinking about tom whispering sweet things

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

“you don’t even know what you do to me, do you?” his voice is quiet, just above a whisper, but there’s a rasp to it, the kind that makes it impossible not to listen.

you’re curled against him, your face half-buried in the pillow, your back pressed against his chest, one of his arms wrapped firmly around your waist. his other hand brushes against your back, slow and deliberate, like he’s tracing patterns only he understands.

he shifts a little closer, his nose brushing against the side of your neck, warm and soft. “you’re always so oblivious,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your skin just barely as he speaks. “do you even realise what it does to me? the way you look at me like i could give you the world… like i’m anything close to deserving of you.”

his hand moves lower, resting against the curve of your hip, holding you in place like he’s worried you might disappear. for someone so composed, so untouchable, there’s a quiet desperation in the way he holds you now—like this is the only time he lets himself unravel, where no one else can see.

“you make me soft,” he admits, his tone dropping lower. “and i hate it.” there’s no malice in the words, though. if anything, there’s something almost bitter in how he says it, like he can’t decide if loving you is his greatest weakness or his greatest strength.

you fight the urge to move, to respond, to let him know you’re awake, but something tells you he wouldn’t say any of this if he thought you could hear.

his lips press lightly against your shoulder, lingering like he’s waiting for the world to collapse beneath him. “but i’d take it, you know. all of it. every soft, pathetic part of me… as long as it means i get to keep you.”

for a moment, he doesn’t move, his head resting against you, his breath warm on your neck. then, just as you think he’s done, he whispers, softer now, “mine,” and presses a kiss to the back of your neck. it’s fleeting, barely there, but it sends something down your spine all the same.

he shifts again, pulling you even closer, and for the first time tonight, he seems at ease. you stay still, heart racing, and wonder what he’d do if he knew.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

ʚɞ more

soft tom has me in a chokehold rn. thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[sadxbadb]

Back on tumblrrrr :) hiii

My name’s Jessie, I’m 28. From 🇨🇭, I’m 🇵🇹🇨🇦

babygirl’s mom • dog mom 🤍

⛔️ I reblog everything NSFW included.

Msg’s open but not interested in talking bout s3x.

[sepulcher-of-the-light]

Cosmic love, art by Lucas Garcete

[shiklah]

sacrifice

Castlevania

Hector x vampire!reader

She loved to peek into that room, shrouded in darkness. She would watch him in secret as he brought to life another hellish creature, which writhed at his feet with a cacophony of noise. She observed his face—focused, grim, and gray.

No human had ever been so close to her, even though they hadn't spoken much. Yet he fascinated her to the point where she could watch him for days. He was proud, intelligent, a creator... No king or monarch, willing to give up their treasures for a mere glimpse of her attention, could compare to him. He had no wealth, only talent. Oh, but what talent it was.

"You are magnificent," she finally spoke, seeing Hector set down the hammer on the stone table and straighten himself with a heavy movement. She stepped deeper into the room, and he gave her a tired glance. "I didn’t mean to interrupt, but truly, you are fascinating. What you do is fascinating."

"I saw you watching me," he replied at last, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned against the stone counter and measured her with his eyes, from her feet to the top of her head. She wore a purple gown that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. Her hair, partly styled in intricate braids at the back of her head, partly flowing down her shoulders, framed her pale face. Her lips were accentuated by dark lipstick, which emphasized the whiteness of her sharp, dagger-like fangs—something that had caught his attention when she had laughed with a delicate, pearly sound at his words.

"I must admit, I thought I could get away with it," she shook her head as if somewhat embarrassed by the fact she had been caught in the act. "But why didn’t you say a word?"

The man lowered his gaze from her and fixed it on the stone floor. A silence settled, interrupted only by his steady breathing and the rustling of her precious gown. She studied his pale hair, simple robe, calloused hands, and couldn’t escape the thought that they were so very different from one another.

"Your gaze flatters me," he admitted in a soft, deep voice, and she felt a sudden shiver run down her spine. She smiled instantly and walked even deeper into the room, maneuvering between the patches of dried blood staining the floor.

He saw her figure glide toward him like a swan over the calm surface of a lake, but she only seemed real when he felt her presence beside him. Usually, vampires stirred feelings of unease and disgust in him, maybe a specific kind of fascination, but she was different. Just one of her glances, sent through a small crack in the door, could give him so much confidence and spread through his body a warm, unexpected wave of safety and love he had never felt before. He wasn’t even sure if it was love or if he simply didn’t want to name that feeling.

"You’re kind to me," she suddenly said, placing her cool, delicate hand on his rough, warm one. He looked into her dead eyes, noticing sadness and worry in them—feelings he hadn’t expected. She was a cheerful soul, which was rare in their times. That made her even more special and fascinating to him. "Know that I know very well what Carmilla advised you to do. I knew from the very beginning."

He didn’t know why he was surprised. Her and Carmilla were sisters. They ruled together in Styria, came to Dracula’s castle together, made decisions together, and planned every step together. He realized that she must have known about the dishonorable proposal that Carmilla had made to him and that he had been pondering so intensely.

He was surprised, however, that she had also brought up this topic with him. He couldn’t reconcile her delicate, pleasant nature with betrayal, war, and death.

"If you ask me, I will agree without hesitation," he whispered at last, confessing all the feelings he carried inside him, feelings he hadn’t dared name. He felt her slender fingers tighten on his hand and sensed her exhale heavily as she traced her thumb along his wrist.

"Don’t agree, Hector," she finally said, closing her eyes. She released his hand and sighed deeply. "Carmilla is an excellent strategist and a woman of great intellect, but her heart is as hard as stone. Beware, she will use you without mercy and treat you like a dog when the time that favors her comes. Don’t let her deceive you, and leave this castle as soon as possible. Flee the land of Wallachia."

Her words seemed not to reach him. How many times had he thought about how he could start a new life, with her by his side? Maybe it was naive thinking, but that hope was the only thing that could bring even a shadow of a smile to his face.

"And forgive me," she sobbed, swaying on her feet. Hector caught her almost limp body and held her tightly to his chest, not letting her fall. "Forgive me for agreeing to be a part of this plot. Carmilla was my whole world, I knew nothing but her. This may not be an excuse, but know that I wish neither anger nor death upon you. So I advise you to flee, and it would be better if fate never brought you across my path again."

Her despair seemed almost theatrical, but he knew it was sincere. He pulled her tighter to his body, squeezing almost all the air out of her. The woman breathed heavily again and quietly cried, pressing her hands to her chest.

"Run away with me," he suddenly proposed, pushing her away from him by the length of his arm. She staggered in his still strong grip like a doll, struggling to regain her balance. "I know you don’t desire war and conquest. I know you don’t need fame and power. So run away with me."

She heard footsteps on the stairs and immediately broke free from his embrace. They both carefully watched the entrance to the room, expecting the appearance of an unexpected guest or someone who, with ill intent, had overheard their emotional conversation. And it didn’t matter whether it was someone connected to Carmilla or Dracula, in both cases, they would be deprived of their lives.

"We are too reckless," she finally said when the last echo of the footsteps disappeared into the darkness of the gloomy corridor. "If I run away with you, I will remain your problem for a long, long time, if not for eternity. Are you ready for that sacrifice, Hector?"

[bookchef]

MILLIONS of women get off to just text on paper.

[ireadyabooks]

Haunting Dark Fantasy from Kelly Andrew🕸️ 🔮

Pre-order and read excerpts from I AM MADE OF DEATH, YOUR BLOOD, MY BONES, and THE WHISPERING DARK!

From Kelly Andrew, the New York Times bestselling author of Your Blood, My Bones, comes the most electrifying dark romance of the decade.

Pre-Order I Am Made of Death now!

A seductively twisted romance about loyalty, fate, the lengths we go to hide the darkest parts of ourselves … and the people who love those parts most of all

Start reading Your Blood, My Bones now!

“A haunting, dreamlike tale of sacrifice, love, and obsession.” – Cassandra Clare, #1 New York Times bestselling author.

Start reading The Whispering Dark now!

[oldwinesoul]

[celestarly]

Samkiel and Dianna ⚔️ "He is order. She is chaos. One cannot exist without the other, and if she were to lose that, war would be the least of our problems.” 📖: The Book of Azrael series In love with this art of Dianna and Samkiel by @celestarly! . . Please don’t repost. 🤍 🖤We’d love your support through follows, shares, saves, comments, and likes! 🖤 Your engagement means a lot to us! . 🌹 Art by @celestarly 🌹 Commissioned by @amber.v.nicole

[hornedstorys]

COD Ghost x Reader - The Rose and the Skull - Part 1 - nsfw

Warnings: Darkromance, mild stalking, inspired by Haunting Adeline, nsfw, sex, rough sex, breeding kink, masturbation, age difference - may contain spoilers!

Synopsis: Ghost and you had known each other for a long time, when he accidentally found your Darkromance books and realized how obsessed you were with him, he got an idea.

PS: I don't want to start a discussion about the Haunting-Hunting Adeline books! It's perfectly okay and understandable if some people didn't like it! But I loved the first book and it inspired me to make Simon a Shadow.

This story/saga is for all my Darkromance people, enjoy!

Your HornedStories

You were so engrossed in your book that you didn't notice the heavy footsteps entering the room until a shadow passed over your figure. You flinched and moved your head, the white of his skull mask shining above you and chocolate brown eyes looking at you curiously but skeptically at the same time. With a quick movement, you threw the book with the dark cover featuring roses and a skull and crossbones into the corner.

You looked mischievously at the soldier.You were flatmates and you had found an ad about a year ago where he was looking for another flatmate. Of course, you'd jumped at the chance. The apartment was cheap enough for you and was close to where you worked. Simon Riley aka Ghost was a quiet flatmate and you were happy to accept it, it was pleasant and you quickly got on well. But he wasn't always there. He was a soldier and belonged to Tsak Force 141, which meant he was often stationed and you were alone in the apartment and bored. Until one day you came across dark romance books and the dark, spicy stories with some trigger warnings captivated you.

Everything you read in this book, the interaction between the main male protagonist stalking the main female protagonist kind of made you wet yourself. You had no experience in any of these areas. Neither with gun kinks, breeding fetishes or stalking, even if you weren't really sure if stalking was something that would turn you on in real life. You knew it was wrong. These books were a fantasy world you could dive into to taste feelings you didn't want to taste in real life. The forbidden had lured you in and the curiosity of what you would feel when you read these books.

"Hello," you said sheepishly and you could see the man in front of you frown as you threw the book away, even though he had his mask on and was standing in front of you in full costume.

"You're back already, Simon," you stood up, almost tripping over your own feet, but managed to catch yourself.

"Did I interrupt something?" the tall man asked, his voice sounding amused. Your cheeks burned and you felt hot. Simon didn't know what you kept reading and he certainly didn't know that while he was away you used the solitude to touch yourself on your dark thoughts and make yourself moan. It was so forbidden, but it had manipulated you and drawn you into its dark clutches.

"N...no, you didn't. I was just reading," you talked your way out of it and pretended he hadn't just scared you to death. Simon didn't necessarily need to know how ill you were. But at the time, you didn't know that he was the shark that would swim circles around you, getting closer and closer each time until he snapped.

"What's the book about? Must be exciting, you were really engrossed in it," he chuckled and put his bag down, then pulled off his headgear to reveal his straight, dark blond hair. Your eyes widened as he turned back to you. His chocolate brown eyes met yours, he was still wearing his mask, at least only the lower part that covered his mouth and nose. Your embarrassment didn't get any better under his deep gaze and you thought about how you could talk your way out of it.

"Yes... Yes, it's very exciting. It's about, uh... Human trafficking!" It wasn't really a lie. It was actually about human trafficking and you saw the astonished look on his face. Then he turned completely. His eyes were rimmed in black, making his light-colored eyelashes stand out even more.

You had to admit to yourself that you found him attractive, but you were almost ten years apart in age and you figured he didn't want anything from a kid like you, even though you were legally an adult and quite mature for your age.

"You read something like that? I wouldn't have put it past you. But be careful with something like that," he warned you and looked at you seriously, "stories like that can... change you", you grimaced slightly at his words. You knew that Simon had seen and experienced a lot in his life as a soldier. It was a formative life and there were times when he came home distraught and was a different person.

On the battlefield he was Ghost, cold, emotionless and murderous, trained to do his job. But when he came back to the flat share, he was just Simon Riley. A man with emotions, scars and a vulnerable side and you felt sorry that his life swung so much between these two characters.

"I'll be careful," you whispered, picking up the book and putting it back on your shelf without noticing Simon staring at it thoughtfully. You had cooked dinner for you and you ate. Simon told you a bit about his mission, but he always kept you strictly out of his soldier stuff. He thanked you for the food and told you that he still had to put his things away and wanted to take a shower. You just nodded and went to bed.

It was the middle of the night when Simon lay awake in bed thinking about the book. He knew you were hiding something, why would you just read a book with that kind of content, plus it made no sense that there was a skull and roses on it and who was Adeline?

Enough was enough for him and he got up and made his way to the living room. He didn't make a sound as he opened the door and walked through the short hallway. Of course not, he was a master at being quiet, even when he didn't have his mask on.

Like a predator, he crept through the shadows and took the book from the shelf. He had to admit to himself that he thought the cover was kind of pretty. The background was matt black and went well with the red of the roses and the human skull.

'Haunting Adeline,' his mind read and he turned the book over in his dizzy fingers. 'The Shadow and the Manipulator'. This was definitely not a book just about human trafficking. Simon wasn't stupid. He faintly remembered you saying something about Darkromance books and he remembered your red, embarrassed face when you first read one.

His curiosity was aroused. What made that sweet little rose so red? He sat down on the couch and started reading.He had been sitting there for two hours now, engrossed in the book. Damn, what the hell have you been reading, you dirty girl? He shook his head in amusement, but could understand why you blushed so much and threw the book aside. Simon wondered if you would like something like that. Would you like to be salted?

He read the scene of Zade fucking Adeline with his loaded gun and chuckled in amusement. The thought of you in Adeline's place and him in Zade's place made him unintentionally hard. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, ignoring the twitching of his cock, and read on.

He was tired, but curiosity kept him awake and he couldn't and wouldn't sleep with a hard-on. He would have to jerk off first. But you weren't lying, there was human trafficking in this book.

Tales of children being raped and sacrificed for sick rituals and it made his blood boil. He had killed people like that. He had been on a mission that also had to do with human trafficking and he had seen enough disturbed and dead children on his way through the battlefield. Images that would never be forgotten.

They had shaped him, made him a broken man and he could understand Zade's urge to kill these people. No one had the right to decide over life and death, but such people must be punished and his place in hell was already reserved anyway, what more would a corpse do to his account?

Then your face appeared in his mind's eye. Innocence personified, or so he thought. Simon wondered if you were aroused by what you read in it, the scenes between Zade and Adeline. The thought of licking you made him twitch again. A muffled moan escaped his throat, then he stood up and put the book back on the shelf. He would continue reading, but first he had to take care of the problem between his legs. He went back to his room and lay down on the bed.

His cock bobbed against his stomach and he could see the droplet of pleasure making its way through.He took it in his hand and jerked it up and down. A gasp came from his throat and he closed his eyes. Simon imagined what it would be like to have you.

Your sweet little form beneath him. Spoiled and broken by his hands. Your pussy full of his cock, panting and with flushed cheeks. It was as if these images only made his cock harder and he gritted his teeth sharply.

You put a spell on me

I'm losing my mind

You better stop these things

It's a matter of time

He always thought you were cute. He loved the way you looked after him, especially when he came back from his missions. You used to watch movies together and talk. He liked that you weren't the loudest, but he also loved how you blossomed around him. You were more open around him, it was only with strangers that you were very reserved. And above all, he loved your eyes.

They looked so innocent at first glance, but he could see the fire in them. The depravity, the desire. His gasp became a growl as he fisted himself faster and continued to think of how he let his cock sink deep inside you and how his seed filled your core. He groaned and his cock twitched as he came on his belly. The white strings were all over him and he wondered what you would look like with them on your skin.

Your night was quiet, you had a pleasant sleep, you slowly opened your eyes. The sun was shining through your window and you stretched. You got up and went to the kitchen. Simon sat on the sofa with his mask on and stared at the TV. He clicked through the news and you gently touched his shoulder.

"Good morning," you smiled, "sleep well?" you asked him and Simon nodded, his eyes looking at you with amusement. There were dark circles under his eyes, as if he had missed a few hours of sleep.

"When do you have to leave again?" you asked and the man shrugged his shoulders. "There's nothing planned for now, maybe I'll be lucky this time and can take a little longer to catch my breath. I'm getting old too," he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.

"Oh come on, you're only thirty years old, Simon. That's not old," he raised an eyebrow at this statement and looked at you with scrutiny.

"You don't think I'm old," he hacked and you shook your head and put cornflakes in your bowl. He would definitely remember that statement. He focused back on the screen and you ate and then grabbed your book. Intense brown eyes followed you, then you had disappeared into your room and Simon gritted his teeth.

He closed the songs and tried not to think about how you were probably about to touch yourself. Without him. You would come, without his help.

But just you wait, little rose. As soon as you have my taste on your tongue and I make you cum, you won't want anything else. His cock got hard again and he grumbled.

You had waited until Simon was out of the apartment. Today was one of those days when he did something with his boys and they went to the bar. Much to your delight. You could feel the wetness between your legs and you were so looking forward to your fingers sliding through your wet folds with such ease. In your mind you imagined what it would be like to have a gun down there between your legs, cold metal stretching you.

You moaned as you ran your fingers over your clit and the good feeling shot through your abdomen.God it felt so good and you moaned. You put the book down and sat on your knees. You kept fingering yourself and moving your hips against your fingers. Your mind was foggy and suddenly chocolate brown eyes appeared in your field of vision.

You gasped as Simon slowly crept into your mind. Your fingers didn't slow down and you imagined him in his soldier clothes. He was so tall and you couldn't get his bulging thighs out of your mind. He looked so good. Your inner self fought against thinking about him, but he didn't need to know. So you let your thoughts run free without realizing that there was a shadow at your door.

He had just forgotten something, but your moaning had attracted him like a drop of blood attracts a shark.

Your moans sounded like angels singing and he was almost jealous that he wasn't allowed to touch you. His stomach tightened and he felt something unhealthy rising up inside him. Something bitter and sour. But he left it at that and left, for good.

You tiptoed quietly out of the room and into the living room. You felt like watching a series, but you weren't sure if your roommate was back. But you didn't hear anything. You strolled into the kitchen, only to pause the next moment.

There was a single rose on the table; pink and the thorns had been cut off. Confused, you picked it up and examined it. It was a beautiful specimen, with large blooms. A bouquet of these would certainly cost a lot of money.

You looked at it again and a brief smile crept onto your face, but that smile would soon turn to unease.

Rose and Skull divider by @thecutestgrotto

[lighthousepigeons]

[During the Heathens initiation]

Niko, in his mask: Run if you want to live.

Brandon: *Runs*

Niko, confused: Not like towards me though.

Brandon:

[thisismysafeescape]

Can not express how much I'd love for more people to read my Outer Banks fanfic!

JJ Maybank X OC | Original Plot | Rated M

Summary:

On the surface, Kassandra Grey was your typical picture-perfect Kook Princess, living a life of privilege and luxury. And JJ Maybank was the complete embodiment of the free-spirited Pogue lifestyle—reckless, untamed, and unbothered by society's rules.

They were two completely different people, living in two vastly different worlds.

It was as simple as that... Or was it?

Kassi, trapped in a life of high expectations, and desperate to escape her volatile, destructive relationship, finds herself undeniably drawn to the Pogue world, seeking freedom and adventure.

JJ, with his laid-back and carefree nature, becomes her unexpected guide and protector against Rafe's relentless obsession.

What begins as an unlikely alliance, spirals into a tangled web of secrets, violence, broken friendships, tested bonds, and an exhilarating treasure hunt that could cost them everything.

As they navigate the treacherous waters of their connection, they discover that beneath the surface, they have more in common than they ever imagined, and that it wasn't simple at all.

It was like Fate would have it.... And Fate is a Bitch.

Links! Wattpad | AO3 | Fanfiction.Net

[battinscnz]

𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑵 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 & 𝑵𝑰𝑲𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑰 𝑺𝑶𝑲𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑽: 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑴 𝑨𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑪

[spacebabesuki]

Love Potion - Hellcheer

Eddie Munson|Chrissy Cunningham|Hellcheer Week 2024| Witch - Day 4 @hellcheerweek

oneshot, word count 2.3k [+16]

Summary: but a devil wouldn’t fit into something so beautiful, right? Actually, it made sense; after all, the Bible said that Lucifer, the father of all bad and tempting things—including little blonde girlfriends who liked to whisper dirty things in your ear—was the most beautiful angel in the sky. So yeah, she was definitely the devil. He didn’t know shit about the Bible, but he understood temptation all too well.

Eddie Munson sat on the edge of his bed, barely breathing, his eyes locked on the girl sleeping under his covers—Chrissy Cunningham. His Chrissy. It still felt surreal, like some kind of twisted fever dream. Her soft blonde hair fanned across his black pillow, her lashes fluttered slightly as she breathed in slow, steady rhythms. She looked like an angel.

He couldn’t stop staring at her, couldn’t tear his eyes away, even though he was exhausted from what they had just done. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock beside his bed. 3 a.m.—the witching hour. He chuckled at the silly thought. There he was, shirtless on the edge of his bed, his skin still burning from where her nails had dug into him when he was on top of her. Sleep? Impossible. Not with Chrissy right there, her presence filling his small room like some kind of spell.

Her perfume lingered in every corner—on his sheets, his pillows—and he loved it. Because when she was gone, he’d bury his face in his pillow just to inhale that sweet scent that drove him so fucking crazy. It twisted his mind until he could barely think. Her smell, her voice, everything about her. He loved her so fucking much it made him lose his grip on reality. It was like everything else disappeared when she was near, like she had cast a spell over him. Maybe that’s exactly what this was.

How else could he explain it? Obsession? Maybe. But he preferred to think of her as one of those powerful witches from his D&D campaigns, the kind that could slay the bravest warriors with just a glance.

He would kill for her. Die for her. Rob a bank for her. Let her kill him. Throw fire at everything for her. He'd do anything for her if she asked with those big blue eyes. He didn’t care if it ended his life or if it sent him to prison. If she asked, he’d do it. No hesitation. It had to be some kind of potion, some kind of witchcraft. He loved her too much for it to be considered normal.

Still that day, he didn’t know how it had happened—how Chrissy Cunningham, the queen of Hawkins High, had endedup in his bed, in his world. She was everything Eddie wasn’t: popular, perfect, untouchable. And yet here she was, asleep in his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they belonged together. But they didn’t. They couldn’t.

Right?

Eddie ran a hand through his wild, tangled hair, his heart racing faster the longer he stared at her. This had to be some kind of trick. Maybe… maybe she’d slipped something into his drink that night at the middle school talent show. That’s why he’d been obsessed with her for five years. Some potion, a love spell. And then, that day in the woods this year, she must’ve finished her witchcraft, and now he was stuck with her forever.

She could rip his heart out of his chest and he’d probably thank her for it. Fuck, he’d say, “Do it again… oh, I don’t have a heart anymore? I’ll grow another one for you.” He laughed at himself, knowing his late-night thoughts were the worst. But still, the idea of her being a witch made more sense than anything else right now. He always figured that if some ancient powerful witch reincarnated in this world, she’d choose to possess the most perfect, angelic, drop-dead gorgeous hot woman to exist - in that case Chrissy Cunningham.

Her eyes were out of this world. Ever since he’d looked into them for the first time, he hadn’t been able to forget. They were so blue, so impossibly blue, that he got lost every time he stared into them. Surreal, like no other eyes he’d ever seen. It felt like he could swim in them, like she cast a spell over him with every glance, every blink—like some kind of princess or doe-eyed character straight out of a fucking Disney movie.

It was surreal—the way her face lit up when she smiled, how her eyes shone with a brilliance that left him breathless. He had never seen anything more beautiful. It was angelic, transcendental. When she looked at him with that sweet, innocent expression, it was as if time stood still. Her eyebrows arched just right, framing her gaze, giving her that pure, sweet look that made his heart race.

Witchcraft.

In those moments, everything else faded away. The chaos of the world melted into the background, and all that mattered was her. She was a spell he never wanted to break, a dream he was afraid to wake up from. Each time she turned her gaze on him, he felt as if he were floating, caught in a tide of affection and admiration, completely enchanted by her beauty.

Witchcraft.

He leaned in closer, trying to get a better look at her face. She looked so peaceful, so innocent. But what if it was all an act? What if Chrissy was really a witch, and he was the fool who’d fallen under her spell? His head spun with the thought, but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Even if she had bewitched him, he didn’t want it to stop. He’d never felt like this before—this deep, aching need to be near someone, to protect her, to… worship her.

Or maybe she wasn’t even dreaming. Maybe she was just recharging her witchy powers—the ones she drained from him every time he was inside her, like some kind of mating love potion. He laughed again at his ridiculous thoughts. Honestly, if she used him to feed herself, he wouldn’t care. If she killed him, he’d just say, “Thank you, sweet thing. My sweet girl, my angel, my pretty doll.”

Slowly, he raised a finger and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her flushed face. So beautiful...fuck...fuck...FUCK, she's unreal.

Eddie had always thought witches were just stories—until he met Chrissy. Her smile? Pure magic, casting a spell he couldn’t escape. The way her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, golden like the light of the moon, hypnotized him every time she flipped it. And her eyes, crystal blue, were potions in themselves, drawing him in deeper and making his heart race in ways he didn’t understand. Every glance, every soft laugh, enchanted him more, leaving him feeling like a poor human in the hands of the most powerful creature on the planet.

He loved her so much it burned—a crazy kind of love that drove him closer to the edge of insanity with each passing day.

And he wanted to be forever.

He was certain that when she looked into his eyes, she enchanted him—pure witchcraft. She moved like a spell woven into the air, a grace that left him breathless. Her laughter was a potion that filled the room, wrapping around him like silk. He felt bewitched, caught in a web of shimmering starlight and magic. Every glance was a hex, his heart racing every time their eyes met.

“Chrissy,” he whispered, as if her name were an incantation, capable of summoning the very essence of her beauty. She was an enchantress, effortlessly weaving a tapestry of warmth and light that made the mundane world dissolve. In those moments, surrounded by the hum of life, he was completely hers—lost in the spell she cast, longing to remain enchanted forever.

As he looked at her, he noticed the blue eyeshadow on her eyelids, smudged from the sweat of what they had done before she fell asleep. He smiled again at his foolish thoughts, realizing that every witch in movies and horror magazines seemed to love blue eyeshadow, just like the kind she always wore.

She looked like a fucking angel, but she wasn’t one. Sometimes he liked to think of her as an angel, but an angel wouldn’t make him feel this way—so pure because of her blue eyes, her golden hair like a halo, and her soft voice.

But deep down, he wondered if she was a devil in disguise because of the things she whispered in his ear: “You can cum inside. I take pills, remember? Just put it inside me, baby, please.” See? THE DEVIL. The dirtiest words delivered in the softest, sweetest voice in the world. Fuck, goddammit, girl—she was the fucking devil disguised as an angel.

The way she wrapped her perfect legs—soft as velvet—around his back drove him wild, making his cock, always wet and so fucking hard for her, go even deeper inside her. All the while, he was sweating on top of her, counting the seconds to last longer because being inside her, feeling her perfect body, seeing her perfect boobs bounce beneath him, rubbing against his chest, and hearing her sweet mouth moaning was simply too much for him.

But a devil wouldn’t fit into something so beautiful, right? Actually, it made sense; after all, the Bible said that Lucifer, the father of all bad and tempting things—including little blonde girlfriends who liked to whisper dirty things in your ear—was the most beautiful angel in the sky. So yeah, she was definitely the devil. He didn’t know shit about the Bible, but he understood temptation all too well.

God, he was obsessed with her.

It’s a love potion. A witch's potion, he is sure of it. He remains trapped in this spell of love and wants to be forever. He loves her in every way imaginable, obsessed with her, relishing the moments when he lays her down on the bed, lifts her cheerleader skirt, and stays inside her until his mouth goes numb—licking and kissing beneath the delicate white silk of her panties, savoring every perfect inch of her soft skin—so fucking soft, like a peach. Sometimes, he loses his mind, wanting to bite, lick, and suck until he drowns in her sweetness, feeling so fucking lucky because he can’t believe he holds an angel in his arms.

He adores her, just as weak-minded humans adore religion. He, who had never believed in religion, always thought it was the greatest evil in the world—he, who had always mocked fanatical believers and swore he’d never have a religion—now has a religion. She is his religion. He would starve for her, kill for her, protest for eternity for her, build altars and churches in her name, wage wars for her, erase cultures for her, destroy worlds for her, drop bombs for her.

He would kneel for her, just as he does every night; he kneels to pray, even though he doesn’t know any prayers—only for her. Because when he’s with her, kissing her, he adores her—he prays between her legs. He has never prayed before, never adored anything that would compel him to pray, except for her.

For her, and only for her, he would kneel because she is his religion. He doesn’t even believe in God, but when he’s on his knees for her, between her legs, he prays.

“Hallelujah, hallelujah, I need your love. You’re my religion; you’re how I live. When I’m down on my knees, you’re how I pray.”

And here he is, crazy for her, watching her sleep so peacefully on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, with her blue eyeshadow accentuating her angel beauty. Her naked soft skin glows against the white sheets, and her pretty strawberry-blonde hair cascades down, so long it seems surreal and golden. The white sheet around her only enhances her appearance, making her look like a transcendentally beautiful creature from another world, her soft shoulders exposed, the curve of her breasts visible. It’s a breathtaking sight, and he wants to kneel and pray.

She was like heroin made just for him; her effect on him was like a drug—witchcraft—it wasn't normal. It gave him everything, and if she took his life away, he would die addicted to pure pleasure.

Not a devil, not an angel, but a witch; there’s no way what he feels for her is normal. It’s an obsession, a voodoo-like desire. He doesn’t care; he wouldn’t mind if she killed him. How can someone be so beautiful? He’s more than in love—she holds his heart in her hands. If she wants to practice voodoo, transform him into her doll, drive a stake into his heart, and bathe in his blood, witchcraft, or cast any spell on him, he would let her. He wants to remain under the effect of this love potion forever.

As he gazed at her, lost in the depths of his fervor, he realized he was willingly ensnared in her enchantment. The world outside faded, and all that mattered was the intoxicating magic between them—a spell woven from longing and desire. In that moment, he understood that love could be as dangerous as it was beautiful, a dark dance between devotion and madness. If this was the price of her affection, he would gladly pay it, surrendering himself to her every whim. In her arms, he discovered a love where every heartbeat echoed with the promise of forever—a love potion he never wanted to escape.

His heart was in her hands, and he craved nothing more than to let her do whatever she wanted with it, as she wished, praying that it would last forever—forever in her hands.

He leaned back against the headboard, still watching her, still wide awake.

Maybe he’d never sleep again. Because when you were under a love spell, sleep wasn’t an option.

[sepulcher-of-the-light]

Vampire among cypresses, by Lucas Garcete

[ang1331]