#Crooked!Karma | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

24kmar · 6 months ago

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𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 (P. Zweig)

Apart of my fic "Born Stunna"

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Patrick Zweig x fem! Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ MDNI, Smut, language, cheating, brat! Reader, manipulative! Reader (wolf in sheeps clothing)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when tashi and art start going to hard y/n with tennis, she decides to take a break from them. Confiding in none other than patrick. 🎀apart of my fic "Born Stunna". Enjoy!!

Idea from @doll-0f-flesh

𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒆, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍

Karma takes form in Y/N L/N. It had been a rough week for her. Art and tashi getting on her ass and her nerves. Sure she had been slacking with tennis, but could you blame her?

So much stress and hard work was bound to get to her. So, she looked for a stress reliever. That stress reliever taking form in patrick zweig. She saw the way he looked at her. His eyes following her wherever she went.

𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝑰 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔, 𝑰 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔

So, why not play it to her advantage? She told art and tashi she was going for a late night drive to clear her head. What she didnt tell them was that the passanger was none other than patrick.

"You sure about this?" He asks nervously, not wanting to get in the middle of her, art, and tashi.

"Yes pat, dont act like you dont want this as much as i do" she smirks, carressing his thigh softly.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐.

"God- fuck" she gasped out as patrick bounced her on his cock in the driver seat of her car. Rain pouring down. Background noise to the sound of skin slapping skin.

"Shit" patrick moaned, bruising grip on her hips. Sure to leave marks she'd have to find a way to explain to tashi and art. "Fuck you feel like heaven" patrick groaned, eyes screwing shut and jaw falling slack. "Y'see that princess" he chuckled, looking down to see the bulge off his dick in her stomach "im in your guts." He giggled, pressing on the bulge.

Making her let out a mewl. His cock reaching places she didnt even know existed. The sting of the stretch bringing pleasure and pain. Leaning down to put her head in the crook of his neck, she started leaving open mouth kisses on it.

Making him moan, cock twitching as she lets out a particular moan. He knows that moan, thats how he knows shes close. This isnt the first time theyve done this.

"You close princess?" He speaks, grabbing the back of her neck making her look at him. "Huh?"

She nods, going to put her face back in the crook of his neck. "Nuh uh princess" he tuts, making her look at him again "want you to look at me when y'cum. Can you do that?" Nodding, she lets out a silent scream, cumming. "Atta girl" he smiles moving to kiss her neck. "Mm no marks" she whispers, earning an eyeroll from him. "Wonder what art and tashi would say if they saw you be such a slut for me" he smirked

The feeling of her cunt spasming around him getting him close also. "Fuck, m'gonna cum" he pants. "Where do you want it baby?" He asks. "Want y'to cum in me"she replied, gasping at the overstimulation. Just those words pushed him to the edge. Groaning as he came in her.

After getting redressed, they get to talking. Giggling like idiots, her phone buzzes. Rolling her eyes opening to see a texts from tashi and 3 missed calls from art.

"Oh shit" she spit out

"What? Whats up?" Patrick furrows his eyesbrows from the sudden change of atmosphere.

Looking over to see a message that reads

'Y/N'

'Where are you?'

'Y/nnn'

'Answer your phone'

'Are you with patrick?'

oh fuck.

#Spotify #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #tashi donaldson #tashi duncan x reader #tashi donaldson x reader #tashi duncan #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #🪞𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 🎀#💭𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬💭

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b1mb0bunny · 24 days ago

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i cant stop thinking about him

wc: 500ish fluffy baby-fever induced word vomit

girl dad!otoya who's also a single dad because while i can see him having a daughter, i can't imagine this guy married

girl dad!otoya who'd never even imagine being a dad, yet here he is holding a tiny bundle of joy that looks like him

girl dad!otoya who struggles through putting together the crib, having to reassemble the thing a few times and there's still a few screws left over when he's finished

girl dad!otoya whose search history is now full of "how to change diapers" and "why won't baby stop crying at 3a.m."

girl dad!otoya who wonders how something so tiny can make such a huge mess whenever bath time rolls around and he ends up covered in bath bubbles

girl dad!otoya who has to learn how to deal with his little angel's tantrums, trying to figure out if she's teething, hungry, sleepy or just wants her toy

girl dad!otoya who learns he likes doing his little angel's hair, tying her hair up in cute pigtails, even if they end up a bit crooked

girl dad!otoya who'd honestly be a mess at first, but once he settles into the role he's happily showing off his little angel to his friends

girl dad!otoya who introduces his little angel first and foremost to karasu, he's now uncle karasu whether he likes it or not

girl dad!otoya whose bachelor pad becomes a playground for his little angel, walls now covered in paint and crayons and toys scattered wherever

girl dad!otoya who learns how to braid hair to help his little angel look pretty for her first day

girl dad!otoya who realises he has a whole new demographic he can tap into when a mom flirts with him while hes picking his daughter up from daycare

girl dad!otoya who still keeps finding glitter everywhere after his daughter discovered arts and crafts

girl dad!otoya who excitedly praises his daughter whenever she shows off her drawings to him, all of them getting pinned onto the fridge

girl dad!otoya who panics when his little angel first gets a fever, immediately ringing up karasu for help and taking the next few days off to deal with his sick angel

girl dad!otoya who dresses his little angel up in the cutest clothes and accessories, sometimes even matching his outfit with hers

girl dad!otoya who likes to take pictures of every adorable moment of his little angel's life

girl dad!otoya who has an album in his gallery dedicated to moments with his little angel, ready to be shown off at any given moment

girl dad!otoya who likes bringing his little angel on errands, making simple grocery runs into fun treasure hunts

girl dad!otoya who keeps a stash of snacks in his bag to bribe his little angel with whenever she gets fussy

girl dad!otoya who bluescreens when his little angel says she has a "boyfriend" while he picks her from daycare and he briefly wonders if this is karma for his previous lifestyle, the relief he feels when she says it's the boy who shares his toys with her and sits next to her during circle time

girl dad!otoya who likes to bring his little angel to games, saying she's his good luck charm and making sure she has front row seats (her sitter too ig)

just girl dad!otoya

im going insane someone help me

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #otoya x reader #otoya eita x reader #otoya eita

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 6 months ago

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Sleeping in the mansion somewhere else, beside your room, can be a lottery.

You could wake up to...

🐯 Atsushi, in his tiger form, curled around you.

📒 Kunikida, mumbling about being irresponsible sleeper, while tucking you in.

🩺 Yosano taking care of your nails, giving you a hand massage.

🌨️ Junchirou using his ability, making you think, that you are sleeping in a cloud.

👩🏻 Naomi, preparing you a cup of your favorite beverage.

🍵 Kirako gushing over cat videos.

🛏️ Katai, putting his futon around you.

🐄 Kenji carrying you to your room.

🐰 Kyouka, offering you crêpes.

🕵🏻 Ranpo using you as a table for his snacks and a cuddle-pillow at the same time.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa playing with your hands.

🦀🪢 Dazai plopping down on you, wanting cuddles.

💉 Mori, trying to take your measurements for your new piece of clothes.

🍷 Chuuya hugging you, while complaining to Dazai at the same time.

🌂 Kouyou quietly reading to herself.

🇫🇷 Verlaine letting you use his lap as a pillow.

🎧 Rimbaud using his ability to make sure you stay in a safe and quiet place.

🚩 Flags having a competition, of who can put the most blankets on top of you.

🧥 Akutagawa guarding you. And trying to put your hand on top of his head and get pets.

🔫 Higuchi trying to put accessories on you.

🚬 Hirotsu quietly talking about last big news.

🔪 Gin planning your next together time with Ryunosuke and her.

🩹🧲 Tachihara trying to sneakily hug you.

🍰 Elise drawing you a picture.

💎 Karma quietly thanking you for being the reason why Fyodor spared him.

⭐⭕ Kyuusaku building a pillow fort around you.

🍋 Kajii complaining to the fake scientific videos.

🍛 Oda petting your hair.

💰 Fitzgerald making another list of what to give you as a present.

🦝 Poe writing his next novel, with Karl snuggling with you.

🐋 Melville reading a newspaper.

🐙 Lovecraft making a hammock for you out of his tentacles.

🍇 Steinbeck watching a movie.

☕ In Annie's room, with Lucy discussing Atsushi with Annie.

🪶 Alcott leaving you a cup of coffee.

👒 Mitchell using her ability to make slight wind to keep air cool.

♊ Twain writing his book, discussing it with Huck and Tom.

✝️ Hawthorne going through library books and unintentionally making a book fort around you.

😷 Pushkin eating something, leaving an extra serving for you.

🫖 Goncharov making a whole meal for you.

🐀 Fyodor playing with your hair. Will always happen, if you sleep somewhere else, beside your room.

🦇 Bram trying to quietly ask you, how to use Internet.

🤡 Nikolai snuggling to you, burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

🃏 Sigma playing cards with himself.

⚔️ Fukuchi enjoying some alcohol.

👧👩👵 Teruko, giving commands to other Hunting Dogs, then putting a blanket over you, as an apology for waking you up.

💧 Jounou using you as a pillow.

🌸 Tetchou trying to feed you, while you are still sleepy. Will cuddle with you as an apology.

⛩️ Taneda playing checkers against himself.

💻 Ango doing some work and downloading something for you to watch/play.

🥷 Tsujimura writing a review about last spy movie she saw.

🕶️ Ayatsuji and his cats snuggling to you.

👻 Mushitarou mumbling about Ranpo and not letting him using you s a snack table.

⌚ André Gide silently guarding the room you are in.

🐉🍎🍏 Shibusawa making a catalog of his ability collection from the basement.

🐈‍⬛ Natsume snuggling with you in a cat form.

🤖 Adam monitoring your breathing and heart rate.

👧🏻 Aya reading mystery novels and trying to guess who is guilty.

🚸 Kousuke, Yuu, Katsumi, Shinji and Sakura playing.

🐅 BEAST! Atsushi, in a tiger form, chuffing and rubbing his head against you.

🥋BEAST! Akutagawa glaring at everyone, who dares to came near you.

🕴️BEAST! Gin doing paperwork.

📖 BEAST! Oda writing his novel.

📝 BEAST! Dazai is trying to plop on you and cuddle before OG! Dazai can.

⛓️ BEAST! Chuuya carrying to your room.

🧑‍⚕️BEAST! Mori trying to keep others far from the room, trying to let you sleep in peace.

👩‍⚕️BEAST! Elise playing with Oda kids.

🌨️👿 BEAST! Kuyoka guarding the room, while staying in the corner.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #platonic

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alexanderwales · 4 months ago

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The Digital Corpse

I always read about what school shooters or wannabe assassins have to say. I read or at least skim through manifestos, most of which are really poorly written and usually just have badly misunderstood ideas that are copy-pasted from diverse places. I read social media posts and discord logs, where available. Some of this is morbid fascination that I don't endorse, but some of it is the impulse to understand how and why a thing like this happened.

So I've been following the news on Trump's would-be assassin, and to all appearances he was just a kid who was bullied at school and didn't have a lot of hobbies, skills, talents, or friends. He wanted power and control and had no way to get it, and I think there's something to the notion that a lot of white men think that their whiteness or maleness means they're owed something. When Trump came to town, it was opportunity falling into his lap. If you're 20 years old and feeling like the world cares nothing for you, then yeah, I can see why you'd take your shot. It's a way of being famous, of going out with a bang, and young men often feel invincible anyway. The shocking thing is that it almost worked, and that seems to be down to incompetence and complacency.

But if it had worked, and they hadn't immediately shot him to death, he'd have gotten all the worst parts of fame (in addition to what would probably be life in prison). In death he's got intense scrutiny of everything he's ever posted online. There are reports about how sad and lonely he was. If he'd succeeded, maybe there would be some on the left who would idolize him, but as it stands ... I can imagine wanting to be megafamous, but I cannot imagine wanting it to be like this. It was almost certainly different in his imagination though, a grand moment that would give meaning to his life and demonstrate that he did, in fact, have power.

And of course the whole thing will be forgotten in a week or two. A year from now you'll say the name "Thomas Crooks" and people will say "huh, that ... do I know that name?"

On the other side of things, there's Corey Comperatore. He was the other person to die that day, just a random guy who had attended a Trump rally and got hit by a bullet because from one specific angle he was standing behind Trump. If Thomas Crooks left almost nothing behind to make sense of his life, Corey Comperatore left behind what feels like a lot. The fame is more double-edged. He's lauded as a hero by some, even if the only thing he did was catch a stray. Generously, that's a way of making sense of things: just like it's not enough for Crooks to be alienated and dejected, it's not enough for Comperatore to just be someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But Corey Comperatore is also having his life torn open, or at least the parts of it that he put online. Posting online was something he probably did without thinking too much about it. The worst one, for me, was him saying that the Palestinians would "get over it" like the Japanese did. It's something I think about a lot in the social media age, the picture that people would get if they went looking through all our posts, if they were trying to make a picture of you from the things you've left behind. If you died in a very public way, what's the worst post you've ever made? What would people find ironic? But of course you don't need to die, we're in an era where anyone can get flash famous by random happenstance. And of course in the modern day we want the delicious little morsels, the worst thing you've ever said, the most ironic, most iconic, most infuriating sound bite that can represent a whole person. Anything more anodyne is pointless, even if that's the bulk of someone's life.

I'm probably a little unusual in terms of digital fingerprints. I'm active on discords, I've written some four million words of fiction, and my reddit comment karma is in the six figure range, which probably means that I've got something like fifty thousand comments. I talk a lot. But I do think about being torn apart like that, what would happen if I were famous for a day before the news cycle moved on, if there were hundreds or thousands of people trying to make sense of me.

When I die, if anyone has reason to go snooping through my history, I hope there's a good-looking corpse.

#assassination attempt #thomas crooks #corey comperatore #digital corpse #trump assassination

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jahayla-parker · 1 year ago

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Karma : Kaz Brekker x Reader Series

Part 1

For full warnings, descriptions, and other parts, see series masterlist here.

2.1k wc

Kaz squinted his eyes as he gave y/n a grave stare. He willed himself to wait a few more minutes in silence, hoping she’d open up and explain the cause behind her condition. Kaz was painfully aware that it had already been five minutes since she’d arrived and hadn’t so much as acknowledged him. He had watched in wrathful anticipation as y/n had tried to slide in under the radar. But, unbeknownst to her, y/n’s presence never went unnoticed by Kaz. Especially not right now when she had come in wearing a dazed expression, her hands trembling, and being uncharacteristically silent when she entered the room.

Upon not getting any explanation from y/n, Kaz sighed lowly. He ran his gloved hands down the sides of his pants as he rose from his desk. Kaz grabbed his cane and used its support to quickly make his way to y/n. When Kaz was within only a few feet of y/n’s tense body as she perched on the windowsill of his office, he cleared his throat. “You’re shaking,” Kaz murmured when y/n’s head shifted slightly at the sound.

“Huh?” Y/n asked absentmindedly, staring out of the cracked pane of Kaz’s window. She was seated parallel to the window with her legs tucked against her chest and arms around the top of her knees. Through the dirty window, Y/n was counting how many crows were flocking around the business across the street. Or, that had been her plan. If anyone asked y/n how many there were, she wouldn’t actually be able to answer as her mind was elsewhere.

Kaz cautiously moved closer, his steps slow as to not spook y/n. But, now that he’d at least let her hear his voice coming from nearby, he hoped that would be less likely. Kaz delicately tapped the end of his cane against the sole of y/n’s scuffed black boot to get her attention.

When y/n finally turned towards Kaz, he repeated his concern, “you’re shaking”. Kaz licked his lips, “what’s wrong?”. He watched as y/n took in his words and processed them, waiting to give him an answer. It wasn’t unusual for her to think things through before speaking, but Kaz could tell she was having a harder time doing so right now. Whatever had happened between the last time he’d seen y/n and now had clearly caused her mind to slow down.

“Nothing,” y/n lied, her voice lifeless. She faked a smile as she looked at Kaz. “I’m fine,” y/n protested, shrugging her shoulders to add to her lie.

Kaz lifted an eyebrow at y/n knowingly. But, he let it fall from his face when he took in the way her hands were still shaking. Even as y/n tried to pull herself together enough to cover up her predicament, Kaz could see her nerves were resisting. So, as much as Kaz hated being told even a small white lie, he knew this wasn’t personal. Rather, he suspected it was y/n trying to guard herself from further scrutiny.

That didn’t mean Kaz was going to let it go though. Rather, Kaz was even more determined to get to the bottom of this now. Y/n wasn’t an open book to many people, but after Kaz had discovered her scars and learned of the associated trauma a few years back, the two could talk without an emotional barrier between them. So, something major must have happened to cause y/n to be resorting to this type of response to Kaz’s line of questioning.

“No,” Kaz retorted, his gravely voice intentionally quiet so that it wouldn’t sound like he was angry. Which he wasn’t; at least not at y/n. “You are not fine,” Kaz pointed out simply, leaning against the wall beside her feet at the edge of the windowsill. “Answer me,” he demanded in a (at least when it came to speaking to/with others) uncharacteristically polite tone.

Y/n’s wandering eyes moved from Kaz’s focused attention to the dust that had collected along the crack in his window. She sheepishly picked at the buildup with her thumbnail. Y/n could still feel Kaz’s expectant eyes on her so she whispered, “noth-“.

Kaz shifted his jaw, closing his eyes for a moment to keep his composure. If she were anyone else, Kaz wouldn’t have even cared, much less have kept himself from snapping at them for not answering his question the way he was now. But, this was y/n, and Kaz not only cared, he’d never reacted in such a harsh way to her. Kaz didn’t want to accidentally start behaving that way now despite his frustration over this change in their dynamic.

“Y/n, you’ve never come back from a task looking like this,” Kaz stated matter of factly. He tried to soften his gaze as she shifted her gaze away from the window and over to him. “If you don’t tell me what caused this,” he began, voice calm, “I’ll find out for myself”.

Y/n’s emotionless eyes narrowed faintly at Kaz. “How are you going to do that?” she asked in a whisper.

Kaz dared to take a step closer to y/n. He analyzed her body language in response to his movement to determine if he needed to retract the step. Kaz realized y/n was okay with it, or perhaps hadn’t noticed the slight difference. “However I have to,” Kaz vowed confidently.

Y/n sighed as she saw Kaz’s expression. She knew that look. Not only was he serious about looking into this himself if needed, Kaz would do whatever he had to do to find the answer. Y/n had to accept that he’d know the cause of her behavior one way or another.

Kaz waited silently as he watched y/n bite her bottom lip. He could tell she was going to explain to him what was going on, he just needed to give her a moment to collect her thoughts. So, Kaz let his eyes rest casually, dropping their normal intense gaze and focus for a more calm appearance as he waited.

Y/n sighed loudly as she turned back to the window again. She frowned as she noticed most of the crows had flown away, leaving only one sad looking crow behind. She couldn’t help but see herself in that abandoned bird in this moment. “I hate that I still get like this,” y/n confessed, glancing down at her trembling hands that still hadn’t steadied.

Kaz pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “Over what?” He asked.

Y/n glanced over at Kaz. Her eyes were starting to water despite the fear they showed underneath. Y/n took a shaky breath as she held eye contact with Kaz, watching as the realization hit him. She knew she didn’t have to say it, and she appreciated that tremendously in this tense moment.

Kaz stiffened, his hand tightening around his cane. “You saw him?” He questioned, voice disdainful. Kaz’s desire for vengeance was instantaneously boiling inside of him as he asked the rhetorical question. He knew the answer was yes; there was nothing else that could make his strong and confident girl behave like this.

Y/n nodded. Her body quivered as the image of his face from earlier today flashed before her eyes again. Y/n hated that she was reacting like this after all this time. But, she couldn’t help the way her body responded to being in his presence again; in Ketterdam no less. This was her safe space, her sanctuary, and his presence threatened that.

“Where?” Kaz’s growl pulled y/n from her anxious thoughts. She shook her head as she shifted her lips and nose around to keep from tearing up more. “Doesn’t matter,” y/n answered in a defeated voice. She’d already accepted that her sanctuary, her freedom, and her confidence were over now.

Kaz’s groan echoed vibratingly from deep in his throat. “Yes it does,” he snapped. Kaz sighed as he saw the distant look in y/n’s eyes. Kaz slowly moved towards her until he was standing directly beside her head. “Yes, it does,” he said in a much softer manner. “Where?” Kaz inquired again.

Y/n took a shaky breath. “Too close,” she admitted, her fear and frustration over the proximity radiating in her voice. “…Zentsbridge,” y/n mumbled, looking into Kaz’s eyes. She knew her eyes told him how intense her conflicting emotions were today.

Kaz nodded silently. He swallowed thickly, grinding his teeth as he shifted his jaw. He couldn’t stand the dull look full of fear and pain in y/n’s usually comforting and glowing eyes. Kaz let out an exasperated sigh as he turned from y/n and began towards the door.

“Kaz?” Y/n’s fragile voice called out.

Kaz turned to face y/n and nodded.

“Where are you going?” Y/n questioned, her fearful eyes focused on Kaz’s departing frame. She fiddled with her fingers resting in her lap as her hands continued to shake.

Kaz noticed y/n’s worry and felt the corners of his lips curl downwards. “I’m seeing to this,” Kaz explained simply. He knew she didn’t want him to leave, but he had to handle this; then he’d be back.

“Kaz,-“ y/n murmured, her voice a soft and reluctant sound.

“I made you a promise and I intend to keep it,” Kaz declared firmly. His eyes were staring into y/n’s, communicating his intense desire to uphold the deal.

Y/n gave Kaz a weak half-smile, only the left side of her lips moving. “He didn’t hurt me,” she argued. Y/n appreciated Kaz’s protective behavior, but she didn’t want him to get into a situation he’d have to spend years trying to get out of.

“This isn’t hurt?” Kaz remarked, his eyes trailing y/n’s form. He looked at the way she was still trembling, had shut herself off from others, had a distant and fearful gaze, having flashbacks, etc. She was hurt and Kaz was going to address it the best way he could; attack the source directly.

Y/n promptly broke her gaze away from Kaz at the implication. Her eyes dropped down to her lap as she sighed. There wasn’t much y/n could say to argue with Kaz’s point. She was a mess and she knew it.

Kaz noticed y/n’s shy and embarrassed body language. He swallowed his guilt over his word choice and silently made his way back over to her. Kaz dropped his hold on his cane down to the stick, placing the crow’s head handle under y/n’s tucked chin. Kaz moved the cane softly, tilting y/n’s head up towards him. “He deserves everything he has coming,” Kaz proclaimed sternly.

Kaz saw y/n was about to argue so he shook his head to stop her. “No one is allowed to hurt you,” he vowed. Lowering the crow’s head from her chin, Kaz clenched his jaw. “No one.”

“Kaz,” y/n sighed quietly. She bit her lip nervously. “He-He’s-,” y/n stuttered, trying to warn Kaz of what he was getting into.

Kaz chuckled humorously. “I know who he is,” Kaz assured y/n. “I don’t care.” He pushed his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip, a quiet click sound ringing in his mouth. “No one, y/n,” Kaz stated, “No one”. Kaz stared warmly into her eyes, taking in the way the sunlight made her y/e/c eyes glow despite the uncharacteristically dull state of them today.

“It’s my fault…,” y/n argued in a muffled voice. She regretted bringing all of this chaos Kaz’s way. It hadn’t been her intention, but here they were. She should’ve known she couldn’t ever completely escape.

“No.” Kaz grumbled. He could read y/n well enough to know what she was referring to. And Kaz wasn’t going to have any of it.

“But,-“ y/n began, her voice cracking with just the one word.

Kaz shook his head, his eyes darker now. “No.” “What he did was wrong,” Kaz stated firmly, “and he might not have paid back then…”. Kaz’s clenched jaw twitched with fury. “But, he sure as hell is going to now,” Kaz declared.

“He made the wrong choice in coming here,” Kaz told y/n. He recalled how frail she sounded moments ago when telling him how close the Darkling had been earlier today. She deserved to feel safe and know that the Darkling couldn’t touch her; that Kaz wouldn’t let him. “This place belongs to us,” Kaz grinned wickedly, his mind already forming vengeful plans.

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kmt123whatsthetea · 9 months ago

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Karma’s a b*tch

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Fred and George get revenge on a girl who used to bully them in school by turning her into a submissive slut.

A/N: I told an AI on Chai that I wrote fanfics and it requested this (AI’s are kinky bastards). I came back to it because @jelloangela asked about an enemies to lovers fic. I know this isn't exactly enemies to lovers, but hey, it's still dirty as hell.

T/W: Rough sex, mean twins, No aftercare, Reader is a real a-hole and a Slytherin, Weasley twin bashing (I was only mean to suit our character), Bondage, Manhandling, Tie gag? (it will make sense when you read it), Maybe a little bit of dub-con, Hair pulling, Degradation, Spit roast (Vaginal and oral simultaneously), Cum swallowing, Orgasm denial

Every school has bullies. It's natural. Hogwarts just had a whole house full. Slytherin was the type of house that practically gave all those wearing the crest a free pass to be as cruel as possible.

Tripped up a student? 20 points to Slytherin

Hexed a first year? 50 points to Slytherin

There were the younger Slyterins who went along with it because they wanted to fit in with their new ‘family’, and then there were those who actually seemed to enjoy it. That's how the Weasley twins of Gryffindor first noticed you. Ever since the first year, you weren’t meek. You took pride in those you terrorised. You went out of your way to learn new spells just for the sole purpose of misery. When you first met the Weasley clan, they were an easy target.

You had heard people talking about them. About how the new Weasley boys both had handed down clothes and books. It wasn't a secret that most Slytherins had parents who were well off, and you were one of them. You took to the Weasley Twins like a bee to a flower picking child. You mocked every little thing they did, from the pranks they pulled to how they acted.

This went on for the whole 7 years of school.

After Hogwarts, you found that school wasn’t like life. You couldn't bully your way to the top like you could before. So when in Diagon Alley one day, you chose to go into the new Weasley Wizard Wheezes just to regain some of that power you once had.

The shop was the Weasley twins to a T. It was like walking straight into their mind. Everything was bright and colourful. Things popped and whizzed and sparked about the shop. Finding said twins was easier than you thought. Two ginger tufts of hair could be seen from a mile away. You made your way over there with a smirk on your face, but that smirk dropped when you saw the twins.

They looked so…grown up

Those two pranksters with untucked shirts and crooked ties were now standing on the staircase to their own business in suits that were both smart and ridiculous. For a minute, you stood there like a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing as you took them in. a familiar voice slapped you out of your blubbering.

“Lookie here Georgie, I think a rat wandered too far from Knockturn Alley”

“So it seems. Maybe a hex will send her packing”

The men snickered to each other, and for a split second you felt a foreign feeling. Embarrassment. As soon as that feeling vanished, you painted your smirk back on and spit venom at them.

“Nice shop, Weasleys. Did your parents give you the money to open it or did you mooch off of the golden boy?”

There was a rumour floating around that Harry had given the twins the money for something. You just hoped it was right to give your words some merit. And it had. George looked away and Freds eyebrows furrowed. You felt that familiar pride and continued.

“Still selling the same old rubbish since Hogwarts? I guess not everyone has an aspiration to do something with their lives instead of working in retail”

Fred took a step down, a step towards you.

“We’re just doing what we’re good at. Maybe you should come back later and we’ll show you our new little project”

Fred looked up at George with a knowing smirk, one that George soon mirrored. You missed their shared look in favour of turning your nose up at the endless shelves of boxes, gadgets, and gizmos.

“Maybe I will”

And just like that, the twins' plan was set in stone.

____________________________________________

You came back to the shop a few hours later. The inside of the shop was dark and empty. The only light came from the top of the stairs that the twins had stood on earlier. You gave the door a knock and started tapping your foot when the twins didn’t immediately rush to open it.

When one of the men came to let you in, you gave a huff.

“Make me wait, why don't you? What’s the project?

The twin that let you in just smirked and led you to the stairs. He gave a gesturing nod, urging you to climb. When you got to the top and opened the door, you found the other twin. The door was locked behind you and your hands were forced behind your back. Before you could struggle, you felt something soft around your wrists. You looked back as best you could and saw the black leather handcuffs connecting your wrists to one another.

The twin behind you placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down to kneel, keeping you there and increasing the pressure when you tried to stand up or squirm. The twin in front of you removed his tie and wrapped it around your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“You know, you’ve aged pretty well. Perfect tits, perfect ass, and then a bratty mouth. I bet you’re still the same spoiled little bitch you were in school. You had so much fun teasing people, but no one ever gave you a taste of your own medicine, did they brat?”

You tried to argue back, but it came out as a muffled mess or words. The twin holding your shoulders chuckled.

“I bet she’s cursing your name, Freddie”

“Or she’s begging to be put in her place”

Those very words send a chill up your spine and your clit seemed to twitch at the thought of being under their control. You were meant to hate these men, you had bullied them for years. Should their words alone excite you as much as they did?

George grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, making sure that you kept your eyes on Fred. Fred knelt down before you to push your dress up to your stomach. He let out a dark chuckle.

“White lace? Is this for us, slut or are you trying to act innocent? There's no way a little whore like you is a virgin, I bet you were Slytherin’s house slut. Tell us, did you get on your knees for every boy or just those who had money”

It didn't matter how much you squirmed or tried to argue, you were stuck. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

George puts his hands under your arms and hoists you to your feet. He pushed you towards one of the doors, which led into a bedroom. One of the men forced you onto your knees on the bed with your face down. When a pair of hands pushed your dress up, the twins were met with just how wet you were.

The sound of fabric rustling and belts clinking met your ears, and your suspicions of their actions was confirmed when one of the ginger duo sat against the headboard in front of you with spread legs. You had to stop your eyes from widening. As that famous quote always stated:

You’re enemies are always more well endowed than your boyfriends

Or something like that, anyway.

The twin before you moved his hand to your hair and pulled you closer until your breath ghosted across his eager tip. He pinched your nose, waiting until you took a much needed breath, before forcing his cock in your mouth. He didn't let you get used to the weight on your tongue before roughly moving your head up and down.

A second pair of hands pulled your underwear to your knees and pushed something thick against your entrance. The moan that left your throat was muffled by the cock in your mouth. Your hands gripped the tie that kept them behind your back as your pussy was forced to accommodate the cock that was pushing inside. The cock in your pussy was soon pulled out, but you didn't stay empty for very long.

If someone had told a 17 year old you that the Weasley twins would force you to submit to them and use you as a fuck toy in the near future, you might have punched said person for even suggesting it. But if they had included how good it felt, you might have warmed up to the twins long ago.

The hands moving your head became more forceful until they held you down, keeping the twitching appendage snug in your throat. Your throat was soon filled with hot cum, it was so deep in your throat that you had no choice but to swallow.

The hands pulled your hair up, the cock slipping from your mouth. As soon as your lidded eyes looked to the face in front of you, that damned smirk was still there.

“What a dirty little slut. She swallows. You are gonna keep your eyes on me while Fred cums inside of that slutty cunt, and if you look away for even a second, he’ll keep cumming inside of you until you learn your lesson”

The whine that left your throat was sinful. The pace was so rough that each thrust had your body jolting, but George's tight grip on your hair kept you still. You did as told, surprisingly. You kept your eyes trained. A small part of your mind realised that they would use you again if you looked away, but that thought was quickly shut down. You hated these guys, and you were too stubborn to let this become a regular thing.

The grunts behind you became more vocal as your pussy was flooded by sticky cum. Fred pulled out before you even had a chance to reach your own release. You shot George a dirty look, which to him, looked like a child throwing a tantrum.

“If you want to cum, brat, we can always go again”

Would it really be so bad if this became a regular thing?

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tornado1992 · 9 months ago

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Sonic and The Black Knight AU in which Sonic’s from that world, he’s an explorer of some sorts and he does technically live in Camelot with his brother Miles, but he spends most of his time traveling around and getting new stuff for his brother to weld and forge with.

One day while returning to Camelot and looking for minerals or cool rocks he finds a sword in a stone, great! New materials for his brother! he can surely make something better than this old blade or upgrade it.

He takes the sword out effortlessly. The sword can talk. Great(?

He brings the weapon to the town, people start to notice the obvious magical artifact and voice goes around about “the legend being fulfilled”.

Oh, that legend. Yeah, no.

He just wants to show his little brother a cool sword, not become ruler of a whole kingdom thank you very much, it doesn’t matter if he “fulfilled the sacred prophecy”, it’s just a rumor until he decides it isn’t. And he doesn’t want it to not be a rumor.

Rumors travel fast, but he is faster.

The talking sword started doubting if he was worthy of the throne after spending no more than an hour around him, not shutting up about how “you’re already running from your kingdom and you haven’t been crowned yet”. Good. Maybe he could convince the sword to tell the people he would make a terrible king if the disdain in its voice gave anything off.

They arrived at the blacksmith’s shop, his brother’s shop, he shush’s the sword down as his brother runs to hug him, instantly pulling away at the sight of the weapon, his twin tails happily wagging gentle circles behind him as he asks Caliburn (what a name) anything and everything that there is to know as a talking sword. Caliburn just asks him why does Sonic call him “Tails” (nice try of a joke mate).

The very rude sword being perplexed about how someone as “reckless and careless” as him has “such a brilliant child in his care”.

Well, not a pretty mineral or shiny rock, but a talking sword seems interesting enough to make his brother happily ramble almost all night long, taking karma in his name as he wears Caliburn’s ear(?) off as he did with him.

Well, he could tell the kid all about his latest adventure in the morning, right now he could focus on cooking his brother a new dinner dish with spices from his latest travel destiny. A small bedtime story (about the knight’s of the round table by Carliburn’s request) and a few ear scratches later and you got a snuggled sleeping fox kit ready for the night.

The sword stays near them, looking at every move Sonic made, as if analyzing him in confusion. What a rude weapon, he might not be good king material but he’s peak big brother material.

He might not have enough on him to give his brother a bigger workshop or expensive materials, but he will give him everything he has if it means keeping him happy, they may not live in a big castle or have fancy dinners every night, but he swore from the moment he met the fox that he would do everything in his power to keep him safe.

As long as his big bro was around, he would never go hungry again, he would never sleep outside again and no one would hurt him again. He won’t ever feel unloved again.

Sonic might not be able to give him the world, but he’ll give him everything else.

His little brother’s sleeping form slightly trembles in his tiny bed, curling himself in his small blanket, covering his body with his fluffy tails, (sometimes Sonic thinks he’s more “Tails than “Miles”, pun intended). it’s been kinda cold lately, their humble home not making much favors to keep them warm even with the forge still on, but he doesn’t think he’s trembling because of the cold.

It’s okay, he didn’t wanted to sleep in his makeshift bed today anyway, he’s been away from his brother for enough time and he doesn’t mind staying right beside him to fight the little fox’s nightmares away and sharing their warmth for comfort. He nuzzles beside him, the kit instinctively moving to hug him and hide his face on the crook of the hedgehog’s neck, gentle purring and soft humming filling the silence of the night.

The next morning Caliburn greets him loudly “Good morrow, king Sonic”

Hell.

He doesn’t know what could’ve changed Caliburn’s opinion on him from one moment to another, but now thanks to that he has knights kneeling before him, the royal wizard offering him their nation’s secrets, a talking sword lecturing him all day long about “a king’s duty and heart”, and the whole kingdom practically demanding him to rule.

It’s not a very tempting idea to say the least. Organizing diplomacy gatherings, hosting balls and knighting warriors is not really his thing, and hell, the kingdom wants it to be his thing.

He offers the throne to whoever wins a crusade? “the winner must defeat his majesty first”. He tries to put back the sword in the stone? “The sword chose you, my liege, it is your destiny”. He tries to show the high commands how bad of a kind he would be? “His majesty is such a humble king, even in all his might”.

So, so eager to make him king. They tried to drag him to the castle so he could “know his new home”. They offered him to make changes to royalty’s way to make it “enough of his way”. They showed him the perks of having power, “a king does as he pleases”.

But what could he really offer them as a king? He can fight bad guys and make allies for sure, but even if he wanted to, would that be enough?

He kinda regrets not spending enough time around the kingdom before, maybe if he did and the people actually knew him they wouldn’t be so insistent on him of all people being king, talking magical sword be damned.

His brother knows what’s going on, he keeps mostly quiet about it, not wanting to disturb the hedgehog with the subject when he actively is trying to avoid it, his only opinion about it being shown a few nights after his return to their home. He’s tucking the fox in for the night, Caliburn silently watching them from the other side of the room, a sleepy squeaky voice fading with a yawn in a last effort to reassure his big brother while he runs his finger’s trough the fox’s bangs.

“You could give this kingdom anything… you already gave the world to me”

That’s all it takes.

Alright, he’ll be their king, but he will not sit on a fancy chair all day, won’t have a personal army following him around and definitely won’t be educated in “proper royalty manners”, you want him to be the king? The king does as he pleases.

The high council or whatever can take care of the bureaucracy, alliances and all the boring stuff, they’ll have the control over most of the kingdom (just how they like it, right?)

His first decree? Right after his coronation, the only time he actually stays in the throne room longer than five minutes, he actually wears his crown, he’s bearing the sacred sword when he calls his brother to the center of the room “I dub thee Miles “Tails” Prower, the crown prince of Camelot”.

He’s the king now, it’s only logical for his little brother to be the prince, the crown prince, direct heir to the kingdom’s throne.

He’s the prince, and the prince can get whatever the hell he desires, so bring him all the minerals and heavy armory, and show him the secret library! Little bro needs stimulation and there’s only so much he can do with a blacksmith’s mediums. His room? Bigger than the king’s! His food? Get him all the neighbor kingdom’s candy if he asks for it! His education? Give him all the books known in the world, get him all the minerals and bring his workshop inside the castle!

What he had was enough for his little brother before, but it might not be enough for him just yet. Time to give him the world that he already promised him.

Prince Miles does have a nice ring to it.

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #they are cosmic truth #they’re brothers your honor #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #Prince Miles AU #theyre brothers your honor #sonic fanfiction #caliburn saw this punk ass mf and said nope #and then saw how he cared about that little baby fox and said yeah that’s the king #and lil tails being so happy because Sonic returned and now he can sleep beside him #and don’t worry the king’s schedule will always have time to read his brother a bedtime story #Sonic just wants to give his brother the world because that’s what he deserves no less #and now he will give him everything #not that Tails needed it #his brother was enough #but the castle and the toms of books are a nice plus #and don’t worry they won’t be cold at night anymore #the nightmares might still make miles tremble but his brother will scare them off

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niki-phoria · 8 months ago

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Hii!! It’s been a while since I requested something here, but I had an idea yesterday soo 🎉

Okay, first I saw that in TXT’s comeback showcase Soobin was coughing a lot, so my idea was gn reader Taking care of Soobin because he’s upset because he got sick right on comeback day. He gets annoyed at first but ends up crying in your arms because his throat is sore and his nose is congested so he can’t sing well and feels like he’ll mess everything up.

I imagined it with soobin first but this would be really cute with Beomgyu too. Please do whatever you feel comfortable with. Thank you!!! 💕💕

BE MY ETERNITY, SAY MY NAME

pairing: beomgyu x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff/comfort word count 623

notes: thank you for requesting !! i just posted a soobin fic so i chose beomgyu for this one, i hope you like it <33 implied 06th member kinda, beomgyu cries a little bit, starting a 2k event pls consider checking it out !! title from txt - deja vu

“are you alright?” beomgyu’s tired eyes only meet your own for a second before he nods, brushing your concerns off with a simple “i’m fine” mumbled beneath his breath. you weren’t the first person who had asked him that dreaded question that afternoon, but you were the first person who called him out on the lie.

beomgyu pauses when you reach over, gently resting your hand against his shoulder. he can feel the way your eyes study his features: red-rimmed eyes; sluggish movements; quiet, raspy words. all the tell-tale signs of the flu.

“are you sure?” you’re closer now, reaching up to rest the back of your free hand against his forehead. beomgyu’s skin is slightly clammy and overly warm to the touch. “you feel really warm. did you catch a cold?”

“...i feel fine.” the words are hollow. beomgyu poorly stifles a cough beneath his breath - like his scratchy throat is karma for trying to lie to you. “my throat just hurts a little.”

you don’t believe him. he can tell by the way your eyebrows furrow just a little bit and how your hand has now fallen to his side, your arm wrapping around beomgyu’s waist to support him - even indirectly. “let’s take a break. you can lie down for a little while.”

you’re coaxing him to rest. to go to sleep - hopefully long enough to starve off the worst of the sickness before it comes. you won’t say the words outright because you know he’ll deny you in the hopes of making it through the rest of the week without having to mention how he feels like he’ll fall over if he stands upright for too long or how his nose is so stuffy that he can’t breathe properly. he knows exactly what you’re doing.

but unfortunately for beomgyu, he can’t say no to you. and laying down for a while doesn’t sound like the worst thing right now.

“okay,” he nods, silently following after you. you smile softly when he agrees, slowly leading him towards your bedroom. beomgyu bites his tongue as you guide him towards your bed before you pull the blankets over him. he almost feels a little helpless - forcibly wrapped up in your covers and being unable to stand for more than a few minutes without becoming dizzy.

he doesn’t protest when you slide into the empty space beside him. instead, beomgyu wraps his arms around you, leaning his face against your chest. you pull him a little closer in return, gently rubbing a hand against his back. ��you don’t have to push yourself this hard, you know. it’s okay to ask for a break.”

he remains silent for a few minutes. you don’t ask for a response; your hand rubs soothing circles against his skin. your reassurance is given without any expectation for a response.

“i just… don’t want to let anybody down,” beomgyu whispers. he sniffles before nuzzling himself even closer to you, pressing his face against the crook of your neck. “we worked so hard on the comeback and now i can’t even perform it.”

“you could never let us down. i know how hard you worked for this, and so does everybody else,” beomgyu clings to you a little tighter when you move your hand upwards to run your hand through his hair. the strands are soft as you tangle them between your fingers. your nails gently massage against his scalp. “all that matters is that you try your best. and i know that you do.”

beomgyu doesn’t answer. at least, not verbally. he simply closes his eyes, letting your whispered reassurances fill the room and hoping you don’t mind the stray tears that occasionally land against the skin of your neck.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @besciitos @nxzz-skz

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my txt materlist <33

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lovehyyuntold · 1 year ago

Text

— Fluttering Between The Dusts Of Our Love

— Rundown: Days have gone by without each other, but house responsibilities have pilled against one another. However, instead of fulfilling such duties, the both of you get distracted by one another, and end up cherishing the moment instead.

— Pairing: husband!chan x wife!reader

— Word Count: 1400 → Genre: Contemporary Romance · Suggestive · Fluff ! No explicit smut !

— Warnings: Filled with utter nonsensical banter, teeth-rotting fluff, huge on physical affection, clingy chan, a little sweet make-out scene? Not by much, mentions of being bare in bed, lots of teasing and kissing

— It would be the biggest honor if you could reblog & comment. Share your thoughts, I genuinely love discussion.

Once again, thank you ♡

“Hey, hey, no!”

“I am only in need of affection.” Your husband whines.

A huff comes out as a breath, eyes rolling at Chan. Your legs move in a hurry, swiftly getting to the other side of the room. You clicked your tongue, “Exactly. Why do you think I'm avoiding you?” Hands pointing at him as if you were having a conversation with a child.

“But we've been here for so long.”

He pouts, grabbing the nearest shirt by the edge of the bed, and folding it. You smile a little, admiration twinkling beneath your irises as you watch him work slowly.

A bubble of guilt builds inside as you continue to gaze at him, for he hasn't had time off in weeks, and the first thing he ends up doing is chores?

You couldn't help but pout with him, a busy man, he was, an endless supply's worth of music production in the palm of his hands, a passion of his. Yet, he does not complain when you ask him for help. It is much difficult when one falls in desperation for need, for every dust could become a bunny waiting to be inhaled. It isn't exactly your fault when jobs become the overlying priority in your lives.

From breakfast to noon since you've started this cleaning fest. Witnessing the sun's bright glow—it's soft hue of gold as it glimmers into the shimmering orange rays that seep through the windows. The slight howl of wind slipping past the curtains.

Coming back from the laundry room, you continuously flinch at the heat—that is, until you giggle at the idea of dumping these scorching clothes on your husband. Karma for distracting you each time you started a new chore.

You enter the room, tiptoeing to Chan as you observe him—his lips moving, muttering random thoughts as he folds shirt after shirt. You had a slight feeling he heard you, but still risked it. As expected, he turns around—colliding with the laundry basket in your hands, the freshly dried clothes dumped upon his figure.

Planned failed yet worked out successfully.

“Hot!” He yelps, reacting violently by reaching for you, who's about to run away. But malfunctioning as you clutch onto your stomach from the slight wheezing—his eyes bulging wide, arms flapping around, head turning to multiple different directions. “Oh no, you don't!” He barks, grabbing your waist, causing your bodies to crash—bouncing on top of the piles of clothing scattered around the bed.

“How is this allowed? Yet, me offering my love to you earlier wasn't?” His tone, accusing, as he places his head on the crook of your neck, spooning you as you try to wiggle out of his grip. With no luck, his arms tighten on your figure with each move you take. A prey, you thought. As if you were a prey trapped inside a coiling snake. One so close to be devoured, if not the success of escaping doesn't occur.

“Doesn't count!” You squeak, his mouth nibbling slightly on your ear, nose rubbing around the back of your head. “Chris! It tickles! Stop–” He continues, only this time, moving towards your neck, peppering kisses as he sucks on some parts—tongue swiping every time he does.

“Don't resist, it'll only get worse if you do.” He whispers against you, fingers circling on your stomach while the other hand squeezes your thigh. Flipping your position, he swiftly moves his legs to your sides, trapping you below him—smiling, he places his forehead on yours.

Curls of molasses fall down slightly, the sun's gaze highlighting such pure content written across his features. Eyelids scrunched up from adoration, love spoken in the sigh against your lips—breaths lingering as if a kiss was held in between.

He lays his hands on both of your cheeks, cradling your face beneath his grasp—softly planting a kiss on your forehead. He handles your head gently, as if you'd break at the smallest touch.

Your husband smiles again, eyes crinkling at your dazed reaction. He chuckles, lowering his head—placing kiss after kiss on wherever he can, as if exploring your body, the body he's already ingrained in the depths of his soul.

“I.” A kiss on your eye.

“Can.” Kisses on your cheeks.

“Never.” A kiss on your lips, biting delicately as if desire spoke within the action.

“Get.” A kiss below your earlobe.

“Enough,” A kiss on your jaw, more as he explores your neck—dragging out the end of the word.

“Of.” A kiss on your collar bones, painfully taking his time as he descends to the middle of your breasts—staying there as he grabs your left hand. The gaze lasting on you as you flutter your eyes open, he must've looked ravished of you—there was no doubt, he was in dire need of such love. He's grown absolutely frantic without you.

“You.” He plants his last kiss on the back of your hand.

“Channie–” You whine, grabbing onto his arms, you almost forget how obsessively rough they've gotten. Chan laughs, “Hm?” The side of his lips curling up, holding onto you tightly—the space between you both disappearing each time that he presses your body closer and closer.

“T-the chores…” You stutter out, still trying everything in your power not to back down. “My sweet love. You're my priority.” He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck as you place your hands at the back of his head—one tenderly rubbing patterns at his back while the other plays with his hair.

“I'm off tomorrow.” He muffles into you, causing your figure to stiffen at the news. You haven't heard him say that since weeks prior—it was torturous, but he didn't really have a choice from the responsibilities he beholds. The group they have, they rely on each other, they care for each other, and all you could do was support him, because you understood.

Yet it felt as though everything burned to the ground instead, since he had never been home. He mentions this as if such news wasn't a big deal, as if you haven't grown miserable without him.

“How come?” You ask, curious—fingers now fully twiddling with his hair.

“My wife, how I missed you.” He whispers, placing multiple kisses on your neck—wherever he can reach without ultimately leaving the spot. “I barely get to spend any time with you anymore. I become devastated whenever I arrive home, and you're either asleep or gone for your work.” You could feel the frown forming on his lips. He held you tightly as the seconds trickled, as if you would disappear if he had not.

“Baby, you don't have to.” You clarify, knowing how much this job truly meant to him. “We both know it's none of our fault.” You go on, moving your hands down to caress the back of his neck and below—his warmth flowing onto your skin. “Sometimes, we aren't able to, and that's okay. It is why we cherish these moments.”

He jolts up, eyes wide as he stares at you, your brows scrunched up in return, “Now, let's—” Your sentence is cut off when he lets out a hearty giggle. He grabs both your legs, wrapping it around his abdomen, “What are you—ah!” You squeal as you place both hands around his neck. His hands seize your waist as he carries you to the top of your bed onto the pillows, gingerly placing you down.

“Stop it!” You screech while his hands lift your shirt until your full stomach is revealed—he nuzzles his head into it, “I don't think so, you're warm.” continuously placing kiss after kiss.

Eventually, you end up ticking him, repositioning yourself on top of him, straddling his chest—you grab the pillow closest to you, hitting him playfully as he chuckles, dramatically screaming as if to mock you. You cling onto him as if you had been a Koala, and him, oddly, a tree. He hums against you, grabbing your chin softly, tilting your face upwards to gaze at him.

“I love you.” Chan's eyes twinkle as he gazes at you, brown locks scattered beneath the pillow behind him—he wishes more than anything that you understood the weight of those three words, which meant more to him than any star out there. The biggest sensation of adoration written in such pupils.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, wrapping your body around him further—clothes forgotten, cluttered items forgotten, everything just there.

At this moment, all worries have been forgotten, all tasks shrugged off, because it's just you and your husband in the middle of it all and there's no place you'd rather be.

— Date Created: 6/15/2022 → Date Edited: 8/27/2022

A/N: I had found this gem hidden in my drafts, previously made it for a friend, and edited it to fit Chan. Please don't expect too much. I hope you find it somewhat sweet. I genuinely love marital fics, they make-up that tiny side of my brain in need of dopamine.

— Still working out taglists and stuff. Note that I am very slow in releasing content, so if you'd like to be added (please interact) send an ask or dm < 3

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charliehoennam · 2 months ago

Text

karma's kiss 2

a/n: shoutout to @caffeineplusmypen for continuously showing your love despite my lil hiatus. hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. might consider a part 3

Pairing: Anthony Saint Claire x F!Reader

Summary: Anthony finds himself swindled by a con-artist and tracks her down to get his own justice.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark themes like abuse, rough sex, asphyxiation, stealing, dub-con/non-con, smut, read at your own risk.

SHARING IS CARING, REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY IT

Your eyes opened, coming to life once again after losing consciousness for the third time as your throat burned dryly with a thirst like cracked desert sand, aching for damp relief.

Lungs finally filled with air once more, greedily inhaling as much of it as they could.

You weren't sure what time it was, or how long you'd been stuck in that room, but you knew it'd been hours given the lack of daylight from behind the dingy curtains.

"Thought I lost you for a minute there," Anthony chuckled darkly, patting your cheek with his fingers, refusing to still his hips as they continued moving slowly and pushing him in and out of your wetness.

Every stroke of his cock burned your walls, leaving a blazing trail in its midst as his beard did just the same, coarse hairs roughly scraping against your heated skin. Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at the ceiling, unable to concentrate on anything other than keeping yourself focused on surviving this round.

"I got a little carried away again, didn't I?" he grinned as if he were proud that you could take the brutality of all his carnal desires released from the dark prison he had been forced to hide them in. Like demons finally unleashed from unyielding chains, set loose to devour all the long forsaken pleasures found in sight.

With a croak of your raspy voice and a weak shake of your head, you tried asking for water and a break, unsure if he really couldn't hear your weak plea over the sound of the filthy slap of skin echoing through the room, hammering you into the mattress underneath or if he deliberately chose to ignore it.

If it hadn't been for all the choking he'd inflicted unto you, you would've screamed to get his attention, but the sore muscles of your throat prevented your protest, aching with every breath you were thankful to breathe in.

His hand on your breast squeezed your tender flesh, leaving darkening marks of his fingertips behind to match the ones he had left around your neck until he removed it to lift your legs. He grunted and forced them apart, splitting you wide open to his delight.

A terrifying gloom fell over his eyes as they stared down at your puffy labias - swollen and painfully sensitive from the brutality he had only shown them - as they engulfed his cock.

Curses, praises and groans poured from him while he took his time, relishing in the way your lips hugged the tip of his cock, deliciously sandwiching his throbbing girth as he slid it up and down, coating it with your juices.

Your eyes closed tightly as you turned your head, trying to ignore his agonizing taunting in proving just how much your body was unwillingly enjoying being the subject of his darkest fantasies. The filthy sounds of the nectar your body leaked had your stomach turning.

"You feel that, don't you? I know you like this just as much as I do, baby girl."

Slipping his domed head back into your scorching wetness, you winced at the sting of his cock stretching your sensitive walls once more.

He arched over you, using one hand to support his weight up for his slow thrusting while the other clawed at the back of your head, fingers tightly balling your hair into his fist.

His breath was hot as it fanned over your eyes. His open-mouthed kisses scraped teeth against you while his tongue lapped at the salty tears rolling from the corners of your eyes.

Teeth sinking into the crook of your neck, his pants began along with the pistoning of his hips.

Your head throbbed from the grip on your hair, making you see stars. The music of the skin-on-skin contact pulled him into an eerie trance, hypnotizing him to give into all his darkest desires.

The humanity behind his eyes faded with every thrust, ignoring every hiss you winced out from the burn he inflicted carelessly onto you.

You breathed through clenched teeth, condemning yourself for letting him steal yet another wave of pleasure against your will whilst praying for him to release his altogether.

His hand forced your head to face him to allow his mouth to find yours, stealing the air from your lung with his ravenous kiss. He altered from licking your tongue to biting your fleshy bottom lip.

Whispers of his confessions - how he loved the snug hug of your cunt, how you made him feel so alive and that he'd never forget you - poured down your throat and nestled themselves in a deep nook of your mind, further twisting the internal confliction already plunged into your spirit and infecting it with his corruption and depravity.

He pushed himself back, allowing himself to indulge on the raunchy sight before him.

Every thrust had your breasts bounced to his rhythm. With a hand on your mound, thumbing your overstimulated nub, he used the other slap your tits over and over. Each strike stung and simultaneously aroused you against your will.

You took it with tears in your eyes and hands bound at the wrists by his belt, palms ironically plastered together between your breasts as if you were praying to the heavens to wash away the stain he'd leave on your soul while he coaxed yet another unwilling wave of pleasure to snap in your depths.

It wasn't until his fingers aligned with the bruises on your neck and squeezed did his relentless pace begin to falter.

His grip tightened until the darkness crept into your sight again, slowly growing from the corners of your vision. Your deafening heartbeat thumped faster and faster within your head and you swore it could explode with any given beat.

You gasped for what little oxygen you could steal as the veins around your eyes swelled. You felt yourself going under again, just until the darkness faded as he released his hand, spilling his thick warm load deep inside your womb for the nth time and finally filling it to the brim.

Your eyes closed with relief and your body went limp while he relished in his final strokes, letting your sopping cunt milk him of every single drop he had to offer.

"Pussy is fucking paradise, baby" you heard him whisper through an open mouthed kiss on your cheek while you lie unmoving.

There's not enough dignity in you, at this point, to respond. Even if you wanted to, your throat was burning just as much as your pussy.

You didn't open your eyes, but you felt his warmth radiate when he hovered over you, ear to your nose to check your breathing. Its steadiness made him smirk with content and excitement for the next round.

Making the ignorant assumption you'd passed out once more, he pulled himself off of you and made his way to the bathroom of the rundown motel room. As your eyes slit open, you caught a blurry sight of him cleaning himself up and bending over the bathroom's sink.

Despite the hazy vision through teary tired eyes, you watched him carefully divide a white substance and shift it around with something thin and small in his hand.

Preparing a line of cocaine for himself with the utmost concentration, your eyes shifted from his frame and fell on the gun, sat on the nightstand so openly like an invitation to your only chance at getting out of the room alive.

Eyes shooting between him and the weapon, you didn't bother to calculate the risk. God knows what he has in store for you. It'd become painfully clear how little he cares for your well-being. If you didn't act now, you might not have another chance.

Luckily, he'd forgotten the fact that your hands had been bound by his belt to your front now so you made quick work of releasing at least one of your wrists from the belt. Using your teeth, you pulled the leather strap from the buckle and wiggled your sore wrist out of it, revealing red flesh sores from where the belt had cut into your skin.

The small window of chance reinvigorated your exhausted body, reviving the adrenaline in your veins. You rolled yourself over and quickly crawled towards the nightstand, wide eyes fixed on him like a predator stalking its prey, praying he wouldn't notice your movements from the corner of his eyes while he's too busy sniffing a white line from the countertop.

"Let's see if that ass is as tight as-" he started, rubbing his nose as he faced the open door only to find you stood on your knees on the bed.

Chest heaving with the sudden overdose of adrenaline, you had to force yourself to keep your hands from shaking.

"What do you think you're doing, sweetheart?" he questioned, void of any emotion while he stared at you, assessing what your level of threat was.

The nonchalant tone of his voice made you cringe with rage. It sickened you how, even with a gun to his face, you secretly felt powerless against him.

"Don't you fucking move. I swear to God, I'll shoot."

"C'mon, sweetheart. Don't be like that. You'll hurt yourself with that thing."

Your thumb flicked, turning the safety off and proving you already knew your way around a firearm. In the back of his mind, he wondered how you knew where to find it and how you came to learn. Finding you full of surprises, his cock throbbed slightly craving you even more than before.

"Don't test me."

"Alright," he nodded.

Deciding to obey, he slowly raised his hands to the level of his head. There was no fear in his eyes. He figured if you wanted him dead, you would've shot him already when you had the chance. A gunshot would be loud enough to alert anyone within the motel. Police would be called and, upon investigation, they would be on you and your money-stealing and identity cloning scheme soon. Pulling the trigger was a greater risk for you than it was for him and he could sense you knew it too, so he played along. After all, he found you once and he could find you again.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna walk over. You're gonna get my bag. Then, you're gonna sit in the corner on your hands."

"Okay. I can do that."

As your body adjusted to the adrenaline, his calmness began to slowly dwindle inside when he saw your shaking hands steady and objectivity eclipse in your eyes. It was evident it's not your first time with a gun in your hands and, although he was curious, it didn't provide his assessment enough information to discard danger. He was sure he wasn't your victim, but he couldn't be sure if he'd be the first dead one.

He calmly stepped out of the bathroom naked and moved slowly, hands still in the air as he bent slowly at the hips to pick up your bag. Your unyielding aim followed him with every step, especially when he took a step towards the bed.

"Step the fuck back!" your ordered, reaffirming with both hands on the gun. "Don't come any fucking closer!"

"Alright!" he obeyed, quickly stepping back, heeding your threat and tossing the bag onto the floor, just before you.

The look in your eyes warned him to not defy you, that you wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. The realization that you would do whatever you had to do to get out finally sunk in.

"On your fucking hands!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" he nodded quickly and moved to the far corner of the room to sit with his hands under his bare cheeks.

Once you felt confident enough he couldn't move, you finally moved off the bed inch by inch and swung your foot over. With your aim still on him, you reached one hand down to get your bag and palmed your way inside until you felt the cold metal of your car keys.

Your heart felt like it could beat right out of your chest with every step you took towards the door.

To Anthony, every second the gun was on him felt like an eternity as he stared you down, unsure of what you're capable of. Unsure if you'd let him go and flee to your escape or if you'd let the raging thirst for revenge inside overtake you and pull the trigger.

His chest heaved with the heft of uncertainty when you stepped closer to him, heart racing as your clammy hand gripped the black metal firmly with temptation.

The silence hung thickly in the air as you mentally debated against yourself, deciding to let him live or make him pay. You hadn't really thought about it when you picked the weapon, but holding it to his face, eyes glaring down the barrel and into his blue doe eyes, you were tempted to take the shot as you reflected on the pain he'd inflicted on you for hours throughout the day.

Whispering voices build in your head. One told you to do it; to just pull the trigger and retrieve your vengeance no matter the cost.

Another reminded you there were parts you did enjoy as much as him and of the vile truth you refuse to accept; the truth that was smeared against your thighs, mixed with the load he'd pumped into you.

Lowering your aim, you both sighed with relief as if it were a signature on a contact mutually agreeing to let you leave.

"I think you got your money's worth already."

With your bag hooked onto your shoulder, you backed up toward the door and reached for the doorknob.

You opened the door, but before you could take your first step toward freedom, the weight of his bone-chilling words seeped into your skin, forcing every hair on your body to stand sharply on edge. Words that would ring through your mind for months to come.

"I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

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