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chronic-escapixt · 4 months ago

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‎ ‎ 𝗞𝗔𝗜 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗘𝗥: 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡 -

‎ 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗔𝗦𝗠𝗦

It’s no secret that you’re kinky.

Kai knows this, because he’s experienced all your depraved fantasies firsthand. They surprised him at first, because someone like you - cute and sweet, with the ability to love so much you’re capable of loving a psycho like him; it just seems like you wouldn’t be into anything beyond missionary, classic love making.

But, he supposes that maybe it does make sense.

Someone who plays with fire must be okay with getting burned.

A girl who lets the devil into her life, her room, her bed, isn’t exactly wearing angel wings herself. That’s just not how things, people, dynamics work, and Kai is smart enough to know that.

It is a hot idea though, he thinks, imagining you as an innocent that he gets to defile. In a way, it makes the whole thing more special, because he doesn’t have much experience sexually. Kai knows he’s hot, but it’s not like women are lining up to get into bed with someone that murdered their entire family. Not that he’d lead with that if he was meeting a woman, but his kind of crazy is something most people can pick up on, he’s noticed.

Even though he’s aware of your kinky ways, has memories of your playtime together burned into his mind to forever get him hard when a vision of them flashes behind his eyes, when you ask him to control your orgasms, he laughs.

Thinks you’re kidding, because the honest truth is that he’s never heard of that before. Didn’t know any woman, man, person would want someone to deny them pleasure. It’s insane to him. Kai would never deny himself anything, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let someone else tell him he couldn’t feel something as great as an orgasm.

Laughing at your request wasn’t to make you feel bad, or to humiliate you. It was a genuine reaction, although it’s not like Kai ever goes out of his way to spare your feelings. He’s not mean to you, and cold isn’t exactly the right word when it comes to describing him, but he wouldn’t feel obligated to tread lightly around you just because. Kai is honest, to a fault.

Unless, of course, he’s lying. Which sociopaths tend to do…a lot. One lie turns into another lie to cover his tracks, and then another lie, and then one just for fun, until sometimes Kai doesn’t even know if he’s telling a real story or not.

You’re just lucky he really has nothing to lie to you about. At this point in your relationship, all you do is fuck and kiss and talk and watch movies and go out together when time allows. You’re with each other more often than not, and you’re a good girlfriend, because the times when you’re not together you completely turn a blind eye to whatever he’s doing.

It’s one of his favorite things about you. That, and the way you ignore whatever new blood splatter might stain his clothes, or his shoes, or his fingertips. It’s sexy, how oblivious you pretend to be just to keep the peace.

You’re his girl, and in his own way, he…cares about you. A sociopath can never truly love you, not like the fairytales you used to read when you were a little girl. There’s no fireworks with Kai, at least not for him, no kissing in the rain or love letters or moments where he holds your face in his hands and proclaims his love for you.

But he does prioritize you. He considers you important. He can protect you and he loves to learn more about you, does the things required to stay in your life since he doesn’t want to lose you. You make him laugh, he loves fo fuck you, he feels comfort when you’re near. Is it true love? Not for him, but it doesn’t really matter, does it?

Because you love him. And anyway, Kai treats you better than some of the so called “normal” boyfriends your friends have. It works for you.

So when Kai laughs at the idea of controlling when you get to cum, he doesn’t do it to be mean. He doesn’t do it with the purpose of teasing you, but when he sees the reaction it gets out of you, that you squeeze your thighs together for some relief because him teasing you and humiliating you is such a turn on, he begins to understand.

“Oh, you’re really into this,” he says with a grin, in that sort of crazy way of his. That signature smirk of his that he gets when he feels magic, power. There it is.

He’s excited, but not in his pants. Not yet. It doesn’t happen that fast.

It takes a few times with this level of control you’re giving him over you before Kai really begins to understand the appeal. What’s not to like? All Kai has ever wanted is control, and you, his beautiful, too trusting, fucked up girlfriend are giving it to him on a silver platter.

Because you are fucked up, he thinks, when he ties your hands behind your back with a piece of rope he literally has casually tucked in the back pocket of his jeans. He doesn’t even remember where it’s from. You’re fucked up when you let him push his hard cock raw inside of your tight, wet pussy, your panties still on because you begged for the sting of the feeling of him fucking you with them just pushed to the side.

Make me feel dirty, you said, and Kai can do that. He loves to get dirty.

“Naughty,” he remarks, because it’s fucked up how wet you are you when he’s got you face down, ass up, about to use your body to get himself off while you get nothing. Wrists rubbed raw from the rope, your ass probably stinging from his smack, and no matter what he does, you take it.

You’re very fucked up. And it’s one of his other favorite things about you.

Kai will give you this, this thing you’re desperately craving. Having no control. He’ll spank you and pull your hair, fuck your mouth and watch you choke on his cum. Make you feel bad, in a silly way, when it leaks out of the sides of your mouth. “Aw,” he’ll say, his grip tight on your hair, “I thought you said you could take it.” He’ll tie you up until you’ve got rope burn, tease you with his fingers until you’re almost crying, desperate to cum, only for him to deny you.

“What?” He’ll ask, trying to sound fake annoyed, when really his dick has never been harder. The sound of your cries - god, it drives him wild. My girl, he’ll think fondly, looking at you when you’re so desperate to cum that you’re willingly humping his leg. “You asked for this,” he’ll remind you, smirk on his face because he knows that even if you asked to go back to the way things used to be, he’d never relinquish this power he has over you.

My girl, he’ll think again, pushing you down in the bed after you’ve just gotten ready for a nice day out. What did you think, he’ll reason, wearing a little dress like that? If you look that good, you obviously want him. That’s really the way he sees it, sees the world, with a crazy confidence only a sociopath could have - that everything and everyone is for his picking. Waiting around for him to take what he wants.

Kai’s always enthusiastic and clumsy about it too. Trips when he pushes you down on the bed and tries to get his belt off, hurts you without meaning to because he’s just so excited to get his dick wet, it’s all he can think about.

You’re lucky it’s a kink of yours, to be completely dominated, otherwise his sexual selfishness wouldn’t be so fun. Like when you watch a movie together, with your head on his chest. Kai clings to you like you’re his favorite teddy bear, always wants to be touching some part of your body, and it’s romantic to you.

Even when he pushes you down to the bulge in his jeans and takes his cock out, holds your head down until you take him in your mouth. Yes, even when he’s holding the back of your hair, harsh but fondly, rubbing up and down your arm affectionately, possessively, probably thinking about what kind of spell he could possibly do to make you even more at his mercy.

He loves to tease you with his fingers and cock, and sometimes his tongue. It’s delicious, it’s painful, and it’s endlessly entertaining for him. Kai could torture you for hours, although it rarely ever gets that far, lucky you. His attention span is short, and his ability to not prioritize his own arousal is even shorter.

You’ll beg, eventually, kicking yourself for ever asking this maniac to have any type of sexual control over you. Please, you’ll say, I take back what I said about wanting this. Just let me cum. I’ll do anything. And maybe a normal boyfriend would give in, but not Kai. He’s just got this power over you, you think he’s going to let it go?

“Anything?” He’ll say, lightly flicking over your clit, so swollen since you haven’t cum in weeks. He loves the way your pussy looks, so desperate, so wet from nothing, and he uses it to his advantage. Will come up behind you when you’re doing your makeup, slip a hand under your dress or skirt or down your pants, just to cup your mound and see the way you act like you’re in fucking heat.

“Anything,” he’ll repeat, a look on his face, that smirk that makes your entire body freeze in fear and arousal. “Well, we’ll just have to see if you really mean that.”

‎ written by: @tinysunshine

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chronic-escapixt · 4 months ago

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i wanna write so bad but the demonic voices haunting the crevices of my brain start stabbing me every time i try and it burns oh it burns

#real talk

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chronic-escapixt · 4 months ago

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Okay, im sat..

Y’all been talking about this man since October and i didnt get it at first, but like everything, im late to the party. Just finished watching Monsters then Grotesquerie… 😮‍💨 atp im in need of more.. also been trying to find videos of him speaking spanish bc that might send me over the edge..

He may have inspired me to write a lil sumthin.. 🖤🖤🖤🖤

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas alexander chavez dark smut #dark smut #monsters #grotesquerie

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chronic-escapixt · 4 months ago

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Crush

1994!Kai x Witch!reader

content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, dubcon, smut, bully!mean!Kai, first kiss, fingering, teasing, vulgarity, innocent!shy!reader, corruption, angst if your squint hard...

wc: 3k

K.P. Masterlist

You closed your books and moved to file them away in your bag after your weekly tutoring session had wrapped for the day.

“So.. I was thinking about going down to the pier this friday—you know, arcade.. pizza.. that sort of thing..” The younger brother’s sheepish attempts to ask you out went unnoticed as your senses honed onto one thing and one thing alone: Malachai Parker. His spiced mahogany musk wafts past your nose as a calling card before the man himself stepped into the kitchen. You can’t bring yourself to look directly at him unless you can play it off as innocent curiosity, so it was mostly from your peripheral view that you caught the way his gray eyes shifted to blue in the most ideal of lighting, the way his fingers were almost always adorned with at least a couple chunky rings, his cropped dark hair that was styled lightly with gel.

He moves to open the fridge and pulls out half a litre of soda, a cold slice of pizza then goes into the cabinet for a box of twinkies and a bag of pork rinds. With his arms full of junk food, he carries the slice of pizza between his teeth and as he turns to depart, your eyes briefly meet before yours dart away into your lap. His audible sneer reaches you as he disappears back into his cave, dragging your dignity away with him.

You’d be mortified if his presence didn’t give you butterflies. It was the first time he ever really acknowledged your existence. Kai usually stayed away, but on the off chance you crossed paths, he never even looked in your direction. It was something you began to internalize after a while, like he must’ve thought you were too much of a goodie goodie, a lame, a narc.

Eye contact, however brief, was a major step up from whatever spirit of awkwardness haunted his first impressions of you.

It happened when your parents brought you to the Parker household. They were looking for someone to tutor you in spellcasting since—as they put it—your magic was underdeveloped, their delicate way of saying they worried you were a dud—the worst thing you can be in a powerful family of witches. They hoped the natural prowess of one of the Parker kids would rub off on you. Kai came down during the meeting and you moved to introduce yourself but he looked right past you and walked away without a word. Not a moment later, his father formally introduced you to his younger brother Joey, and he became your tutor.

Joey’s glower follows his brother out of the room.

“He’s so inconsiderate,” he mutters.

“.. completely,” you half-heartedly agree.

“So, back to what I was saying.. do you happen to be free Friday night?”

“For what?” You ask genuinely.

“... to go to the pier?”

“Oh, Yeah! Totally free.. I mean, I’d have to ask my parents first, but I’m sure they’ll be okay with it, granted I’m back before curfew..”

“Awesome! No, yeah. You’ll be back with plenty of time.” He grins like a fool while walking you out.

Your parents adored Joey so it came as no surprise when they said you could go. He was a parent’s dream for their 18 year old daughter, about as straight and narrow as they come with his sweater vests and penchant for punctuality. But nothing could ever make you see him as anything more than a friend, if that—when his brother came around, he was completely invisible to you.

The ever considerate Joey left a message on your answering machine Wednesday night to let you know that your plans fell through because he had a training retreat that weekend with his family. The change of plans didn’t bother you a bit considering he wasn’t the Parker boy you wanted to be spending an evening on the pier with in the first place but since you didn’t hear the message until Friday morning, you had to rush over to the house to drop off the grimoire he let your borrow, hoping you could catch him in time.

You park and ring the doorbell once, then again when no one answers. You’re about to ring it a third time when the door opens.. to the brother you weren’t expecting. Kai was still yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes at 10:30am. His perfect hair a tousled mess of short tresses, pieces stuck to his forehead. You could almost imagine waking up to that.

“Yes..?” his raspy voice, lilt with annoyance, interrupts your mindless gawking.

“Is Joey here?” you pipe up.

“Nope, just missed him,” he gives a flippant eye roll.

You let out a sigh, “but—I came to give him his spell book.” You try to hand him the heavy grimoire but he steps aside. “I’m not a drop box, just come in and put it in his room.”

Shaking off his rudeness, you come inside. You knew the way to Joey’s room, having often studied in there, with the door open, of course and only on the bean bag chairs. Truly, the only parents you’d ever encountered stricter than yours were theirs—or at least their father. He treated magic study as serious as death, hence why Joey and his other siblings were spending their weekend on a training retreat. All of them except Kai, but Kai was different and no one outside the family understood the details of his.. condition. Not even you.

After placing the grimoire on his desk, you move to head back downstairs to leave, but stop at the door jamb when you hear Kai’s voice. His back to you as he leans against the wall, the phone to his ear.

“Yeah.. babe.. no.. no.. next time I’ll give you one—yeah—somewhere you can’t cover.. I’d like that.. ” his low voice dripping with vocal fry, lewd words creating a faint throb between your thighs as your nails dug into the old paint on the wall.

“Hey, San-Sandy, I’m gonna call you back.” he hangs the phone on the receiver and slips his address book into his back pocket, likely full of the names and numbers of a roster of different girls he’s seeing.

“Enjoy that? Hope that gave you enough to flick your bean to tonight..” he snorts.

“I uh—EXCUSE ME?” you don’t know what to say, feet fixed to the floor as he stalks over to you.

“C’mon, how dumb do you think I am? You don’t think I know that you dig on me?” his eyes cut to you with a taunting edge, drinking in your shrinking flustered form. “Joey’s been trying to ask you out for weeks now, even asked Dad for permission.. but you’re too obsessed with me to notice,” he gives a deep bitter sigh, “Everyone wants what they can’t have.”

“That’s not—”

“I think it’s kinda cute.. but I prefer a girl with more..” he pauses briefly to think, pushing his lips forward, “.. substance, you know? Don’t get me wrong, you’re not completely unfuckable, but you’re no Pamela Anderson either..” His critical gaze rakes down your body, making you shamefully aware of yourself—you weren’t exactly the picture of sexiness, any semblance of your feminine silhouette swallowed up by your soft knitted sweater.

Satisfied, he spun around to leave you to stew in your humiliation, but you refuse to let him off that easily.

“You’re such a jerk! No wonder no one wants to be near you!”

He flashes you his middle finger before continuing on his way.

You gasp at his vulgarity as your rage boils over, shouting at him, “Fuck you Malachai!” You stomp toward the stairs but he grabs hold of your arms and pushes against the wall, pinning you with his body.

You take a shallow breath as he mouth comes down, just to ghost above yours, a threatening glint in his stormy blues.

“Watch your mouth,” he snarls. Everyone knew that Kai hated his birth name, so you decided to hit him where it hurt.

“You first—” you bite back.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You’re obsessed with me.. and if you shut up right now.. I might just let you kiss me..” he taps his cheek, “here.. or..” he taps his lips, “..right here.”

Your skin bristles with goosebumps as the heat in your body rises to your ears and you slump against the wall, ducking down to hide your face from him.

“Oh my god, you’ve never been kissed before, have you?”

You have nothing to say.

He mutters, “well this just gets better and better.”

Your frown deepens, “how incredibly presumptuous to think I'd wanna waste my first kiss on a jerk like you.”

His fingers grab hold of your chin, tilting your face to meet his, “because I’m your crush and the fact that I treat you like shit makes you want me even more.. doesn’t it?” you breathe in his words like oxygen before he pressed his lips to yours, letting him deepen it with his tongue, gently coaxing your mouth for access, which you grant willingly, before exploring your mouth.

When he finally withdrew his lips from yours, you couldn’t hide the shock on your face. lips parted, you gasped like a fish out of water.

“How was that?” He shot you a wink before leaving you alone in that hallway.

You’d take any excuse to go back and see him, the man that occupied your waking thoughts and nightly dreams, the feeling of his lips still vivid in your mind after the passing days. You finally get in the car to head over to the Parker residence on Sunday evening, knowing that the family would return on Monday, leaving you with tonight, your last chance to really talk to him and tell him how you feel.

You had to know if it was possible that the kiss meant something to him—that perhaps his knees buckled upon contact the same way yours did, that he felt the same fireworks between you. Or maybe you were just delusional, but your heart couldn’t rest until you knew for sure if there was something there.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Your feet carry you from your car to the doorstep before you ring the doorbell.

He answers on the first, lips curled into a cocky grin when he catches sight of you.

“Sorry, I don’t want girl scout cookies-”

“Move—” you brush past him into the house.

“What are you doing here? Came to collect a lock of my hair for your shrine?”

You willfully ignore his quips and take a deep breath, delicately finding your words, “you kissed me.. last time I was here.”

“I know, I was there,” he chuckled, “I’m a great kisser so I don’t blame you for coming back for seconds..” You narrow your eyes into slits as he adds, “hey, I’ve been thinking about what you said.. about why people avoid me and why I stay away.. It’s not the reason you think.”

You cross your arms over your chest and countered with a sour face, “oh, I’m so sure it has nothing to do with your attitude. You think you’re too cool for everyone and everything.” You find yourself becoming frustrated again. Wondering why you let him stir you up like this.

His face fell like a deflated balloon, no sign of that condescending sneer as he grabs you by your elbow, “Whatever—I wouldn’t expect you to understand.. just run on home to mommy and daddy before you miss your curfew and lose your tv privileges,” he pulls you toward the door.

“Wait!” you snatch your arm back and dig your heels into the floor, “why are you always such a dick to me? I’ve only ever been nice to you!”

“I don’t like nice! I like honest and you haven’t been honest once, not with me.”

He searches your eyes and you realize that he saw right through you, perhaps more than anyone else. You performed as the perfect daughter, perfect student, ever-improving witch, but you couldn’t pull the wool over his eyes the same as everyone else and that made your hands shake at your sides. You start to feel cornered by him all over again, all alone in that big house with him.

“What do you want me to be honest about?” you sigh.

“Your feelings for me..”

“Alright I like you, okay..”

“Why did you come here today?”

Now is your chance but you clam up, your darting gaze can’t avoid his vibrant blues, “to talk.. about the kiss. I’ve been thinking about it.. and i feel like..” your voice falters as you’re overtaken by your nerves.

“Yes..” he pressed, growing impatient with your shyness.

“..like I want to try it again..”

He reaches up to cup your cheek, running his thumb along your bottom lip, tugging at it as his gaze flits between your mouth and eyes, “... yeah?”

“.. yeah,” you confirm in a hushed whisper.

His lips consume yours, pulling and sucking on your pillowy pout with more ferver than before as your hands latch onto his shoulders, his hands find your waist. Goosebumps shoot across every corner of your skin, but then a thought occurs to you. You reach out and push at his chest, disconnecting from his lips.

“What?”

“This was a bad idea…”

“Why? Because your parents wouldn’t approve of their precious daughter dating the Parker family screw up?”

“no..” your faint whisper barely reaches him.

“I’m a magic dud, remember? At least when I date mortals I don’t have to be reminded of that.”

“No!” you grab onto his collar, pulling him to you, “I don’t care about that.. I just.. don’t want you to break my heart.”

The cold rings of his fingers press into your jaw, “Then don’t give it to me.” He releases you but your eyes don’t move from his as his hand trails down your neck, between your quivering breasts, past your belly button and stopping to finger the waistband of your pleated skirt. “Give me everything else instead..”

“.. okay..” your voice came out small on trembling vocal cords.

He’s back on you, ripping open the buttons of your cardigan, sliding the material down your arms while bathing your neck in unforgiving kissing and love bites that will blossom into marks you’ll need to cover in powder tomorrow. He nips at that sweet spot just behind your ear and you let out a sound, the likes of which have never escaped your virgin lips.

You slip your hands under his shirt, feeling the definition of his abs before he reaches back to rid himself of the faded band tee entirely. You could sit there and count the freckles on his skin but he’s pulling you into the nearby laundry room and pinning you to the door. The outline of his cock pokes your thigh as you ruin his hair with your fingers. His grip on your thigh keeps your leg up as he spreads you for the exploration of his hands. It all moves so fast it’s overwhelming, but you don’t want it to stop—yet undecided on how far you want to go with him right now in his dark room surrounded by baskets of laundry. What you do know is you want to get lost in the feel of his rough palms, grabbing and squeezing at whatever flesh he gets his hands on, pulling the straps of your tank down to admire your bra—the black push up one you kept in the back of your drawer for ‘emergencies’—even your modest bosom was made to sit beautifully in the lace garment.

His fingers dip into your panties, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves now soaked in your slick as he works you up. Soft pants and moans leaving your parted lips. He spreads your folds apart, rubbing the length of your slit with his ring finger. You breath hitches upon contact with the cold metal of his chunky ring. He consumes the moans that leak from your mouth, leaving your lips red and swollen.

Lost in the eruption of your passions, you both miss the sound of the minivan pulling to the driveway. It’s only when the front door opens that you realize they came home early. Kai tenses, clasping his hand over your mouth, but he doesn’t stop. You both listen in beyond the door. It sounds like only one person made it inside so far. Kai works two wet fingers into your cunt, the twinge of pain makes your eyes water as your slick walls adjust to the unfamiliar stretch.

You groan behind his palm and his stern eyes cut to you. “Shh-”

Joey is just outside the laundry room door when he notices Kai’s t-shirt—something that isn’t out of the ordinary for his slovenly older brother, especially when mom wasn’t home to take care of his laundry—but then he noticed your lavender cardigan. He knew it was yours by the color and if that didn’t give it away, the smell did—just like your perfume.

Your back trembles against the door. Just the slab of wood separating you from complete exposure.

Joey’s voice calls out, “I know you’re fucking my brother you slut! When dad finds out you’re dead, Malachai!” he storms back out the front door.

Kai started laughing and you didn’t know why but you did too. His voice pitched up in a squeak when he got mad and it was hard to take him seriously even though you were caught.

“I’m telling dad! He’s such a bitch,” Kai mocks, chuckling to himself.

You hear more voices outside the front door and the horny haze lifts instantly. You push away from him, rushing to readjust your skirt and top before heading into the hall to grab your cardigan.

“Oh my god… oh my god… oh my god..” you panic.

“Go out the back,” Kai quirks his head in that direction. You pause to study him. He’s so calm. It’s like he’s done this before. The door knob turns and you do as he says, making it out before anyone sees you.

taglist: @daisy-renae @quinsly @trizta @mcookie @loveanndthunderr @thoughts-and-thistles @blackreaderatrisk @sadcupcake (comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future posts)

#kai parker #kai parker x poc reader #kai parker x y/n #kai parker x reader #kai parker smut #tvd #tw dubcon

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chronic-escapixt · 4 months ago

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You can have consistent therapy sessions, do all the personal work, drop bad habits, eat healthier, and feel good about yourself but that doesn't mean you are cured of your mental health or your trauma. You will still have bad days or triggering mental health episodes and that's normal. That doesn't mean you aren't trying to get better.

It's called a "healing journey" for a reason. Be patient with yourself.

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chronic-escapixt · 5 months ago

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UPDATES & ANNOUNCEMENTS ~ 2025 ~

Hi all, l've been working on my writing lately, finishing some drafts, taking some requests so I thought I'd share some things to look out for:

I plan on being more consistent with my updates - specifically pertaining to my His Rose series and the one-shots on my Kai Parker masterlist

Human sacrifice pt. 3 is on the way (I was surprised by how much readers seem to like this story. I'm glad bc I really enjoy writing it)

On the topic of the His Rose series, I want to go back and re-write/edit the first four chapters - my writing and plans for the series were in a different place when I started it

I've been writing new drafts for a while now for a prequel series to His Rose. This series revolves around the relationship between Bonnie and her sister Rose - themes of magical sisterhood, exploring coming of age themes and the complexities of supernatural relationships through the lens of Bonnie Bennett

Last but not least, I have a Kai Parker x reader request that I've been working on and will be posted soon.

That's all..

#updates #kai parker x reader #kai parker x oc #tvd #chronic-escapixt #kai parker #bonnie bennett

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chronic-escapixt · 5 months ago

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The threat of denial is such a hot way to get a submissive to completely and utterly degrade themself. I want you to beg desperately to worship my bulge while I hold you a few inches away from it and taunt you. Tell me in your pretty, quivering voice how badly you want to hump my boot. Offer me a belt and plead to have your ass spanked and covered in pretty purple bruises. Kneel before me and sob softly as you offer your tongue, praying I'll cum on it. Barely keep your composure as you try to convince me to edge you because you've been so good and want nothing more than my touch. Make promise after promise about how you'll do anything for me if I just let you gag on my fingers (as if you wouldn't already). My perfect slutty bitch, so desperate to be used and humiliated that you don't even care about your own pleasure anymore. Such a good fucktoy.

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chronic-escapixt · 5 months ago

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Hello everyone, I am Mohamed Khalifa. I graduated from Al-Azhar University, Department of Engineering, Mechatronics major. I lost my home and my job, and now I have nothing left. I want to help my family because they have nothing now, and I want to go out to look for work because I... I lost everything. I want you to support me on the donation link:

https://gofund.me/2913d831

Thank you for reaching out. I hope you receive the things you need rn.

#free palestine #palestine aid

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chronic-escapixt · 5 months ago

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🌟 A Plea from Gaza: Rola’s Story 🌟

Hello, my name is Rola, and I am a mother of two children living in the Gaza Strip. Our lives were once filled with love, laughter, and dreams for the future. But everything changed on October 7th, when the war shattered not only our home but our entire world.

That morning, my family and I were enjoying coffee together on the balcony. Out of nowhere, an explosion erupted, shaking our home violently. My husband and son ran for cover, falling over each other in panic, while I stood frozen, still holding my cup, unable to process the chaos around me. When I looked out the window, I saw that our neighbor’s house, once filled with life, had been reduced to rubble. Ambulances rushed to the scene as people scrambled to rescue the injured and pull bodies from the debris.

The bombings didn’t stop. At night, the rain poured heavily, and the cold seeped into our bones. I stayed awake, covering my children to keep them warm and praying for their safety. But safety is an illusion here. Another explosion shattered the night, and our neighbors’ home was destroyed. Their children, who had been sleeping peacefully under a blanket, were found lifeless, their cover soaked in blood.

I looked at my children with tears in my eyes and thought, How can I protect you? We had to flee our home with nothing but the clothes on our backs. We left behind my children’s toys, their clothes, and their beautiful bedroom. Everything we had worked so hard to build is gone.

Our Current Reality Now, we are displaced and living in a nightmare. Food is scarce, and prices are unimaginably high—$10 for a kilo of sugar! The fear of death hangs over us constantly. My children deserve a life of joy and hope, not one defined by fear and loss. Why can’t we live like everyone else—go to work, visit family, and watch our children play in safety? Why do our children have to grow up surrounded by death and destruction?

How You Can Help I am pleading for your kindness to help us rebuild our lives. We need your support to: 💔 Rebuild our home, so my children can feel safe again. 🌍 Evacuate from Gaza, seeking a future where my family can live with dignity. 🩺 Provide urgent medical care for my children, who need protection from this nightmare.

Even the smallest donation can make a difference. If you can’t donate, please share my story. Every share brings us closer to hope.

What Your Support Means Your kindness is not just about helping us survive; it’s about giving us a chance to dream again. To rebuild what we’ve lost and to ensure my children have a future filled with possibilities, not fear.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Your support means the world to us. Let’s work together to rebuild hope, one step at a time.

🌸 Please share our story and consider donating today. 🌸

Together, we can create a better tomorrow. 🌍❤️

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chronic-escapixt · 5 months ago

Note

Hello🤗❤️

I hope you are well🌹

Can you help me get my voice heard

and share my family's story?🙏🏻

Can you Reblog my pinned post from my blog or donate 10$?

By helping to reblog my story, you could

save a family from death and war.🌹

Thank you very much🌸

🕊️❤️🌹🙏🏻

🙏🏽

#free palestine

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chronic-escapixt · 6 months ago

Text

Human Sacrifice (Part 2)

prisonworld!Kai x f!reader

content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, Dark fiction, NONCON, kidnap, rough sex, bondage, oral (f receiving), abusive behavior, spanking, degradation, explicit language, forced overstim, toys

*Kai is the king of pet names- calls reader babycakes*

wc: 3.8k

K.P. Masterlist

summary: you wake up alone in the middle of nowhere. unfortunately for you, you're not completely alone

Kai sets me down at the table. Each passing moment I spend sitting still, stewing in my own idleness, eats away at my adrenalin. Leaving a fatiguing hunger gnawing in its place. Worsened by the smells coming from the stove. I crane my neck just to get a peak at the bacon frying in the cast iron skillet, sizzling and popping in its own oils, the pancake cooking up to a perfect crisp brown edge before it's flipped over.

Pretty soon he’s setting the plate on the table, directing a sly wink at me to which I return a scowl, not even looking down to acknowledge the food, not even moving to touch the silverware since I wouldn’t put it past him to get my hopes up just to snatch it away and gorge himself on the entire thing right in front of me. If I wasn’t practically starving, I’d be more tempted to vault the plate at his dense head and deal with whatever consequences came later.

“Oh! Can’t forget the oj!” he squeals, dashing over to the fridge. My critical gaze follows where I notice the children’s doodles tacked to the door with novelty magnets along with what looks to be report cards and a refrigerator magnet with a frilly cursive font that says: Kiss the Chef.

Not if I can help it.

He pours me up a tall glass then stares down his nose at me expectantly. I lean forward with squared shoulders, tight lips, creased brow, posturing to let him know that this silent standoff between us can go on forever. He leans back with a frustrated sigh and I know I’ve won until my stomach growls out loud, undercutting my small victory.

He smirks and nudges the plate closer to me, “eat up before your eggs get cold.”

“I’m not hungry,” I bite back.

“Mhmm, right.. I bet you think I’m trying to poison you or something - Well, babe, if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already.” Each word is slow and direct with brazen condescension.

I collect my annoyance behind a placid mask.

“It’s just that my parents expected me home like.. yesterday. They’ve probably already reported me as a missing person. If they’re not already, the police will start looking for me soon and no matter what you do to me, everything is going to lead right back to you.”

He nods with consideration as I continue. “They’re gonna either find me alive or dead and you’re going to end up in prison. Doesn’t that scare you? I mean.. a pretty boy like you wouldn’t do too well in prison. Surely they’d do much worse to you than you could ever think of doing to me..”

Kai meets my gaze with a wickedly sharp grin, “you underestimate my imagination.”

His threat makes a tightness take hold of my throat, straining my words in my chest, “I - just think you should consider how this might end for you.”

He groans so loud, it makes me stiffen. “You still don’t get it, do you? We’re not in your world anymore! Your parents can report whatever they want to whoever they want, but no one is going to find you, so as long as you’re stuck here with me, you’re mine.”

My palpable disbelief makes him inch closer, resting his palms on either side of the table and leaning down to me.

“Let me spell it out for you: we’re in my prisonworld, circa 1994, and there’s no one else here but you and me.”

He’s dead serious but it’s so ridiculous I can’t help but let out a stream of chuckles, little laughs that clearly bite into his inflated ego the more I go on. I cover my face, trying to stop, desperately as tears prick my eyes. I feel crazy because I’m terrified, but laughter is all that comes out.

“Oh.. you don’t believe me?” His voice laced with reproach, “FINE! When you clean your plate, I’m taking you into town.”

When he turns and leaves me alone, I start to perk up, listening for his retreating footsteps before I stare down the buttery stack of pancakes in front of me, thick cut bacon that’s somehow just as crispy as I like it and a side of fluffy eggs. His proposition provides me food for thought as I begin cutting into my pancakes. Getting out of this house is my best chance at being found and getting away from him, even if it is on his terms. The food is so good I struggle not to scarf it down, still careful as I’m unsure if he snuck razor blades in my scrambled eggs. I cleaned the plate in minutes and chugged the orange juice.

“I’m changing,” I try to bypass him to get to the stairs but he blocks my path with his body, folding his arms as to make himself even wider.

“No need. The only person that can judge you for looking like a slut is me, and personally, I like it,” he replies, biting his lower lip. I feel exposed as he eyefucks me in nothing but the slinky black dress. I feel a draft with every step, forcing me to tug it down over my backside and compromise the coverage of my breasts. I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway.

He takes us into town. Mr. Motor-Mouth tells me all about the lore he built lore for his own delusions but I barely pay it any mind. Beyond the periphery of my attention, he continues - prisonworld this, coven that - I’m sure, the only prisonworld that exists is in his own deranged head.

I welcome the growing familiarity of our surroundings as we approach downtown Portland. The strange thing is, it doesn’t look the way I left it last break. There’s almost a nostalgic feel to the way the cars parked along the street are all vintage models I haven’t seen since I was a kid. The gas prices made me do a double take. The way payphone booths stood at each street corner. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was just one of those traditional towns that didn’t change with the times, but I DO know better. I grew up here. I notice as we pass the old theater that used to play classic films for 90 cents on the weekends that it’s suspiciously lacquered with the freshest coat of paint I’ve ever seen on it, which is impossible considering the building was abandoned when it went out of business last year.

“- and so my coven created this little hell dimension for me.. where I’ve been on my own ever since.”

I search for people. In what should be the business epicenter of the town, there’s no one. Not a single soul walking, driving, making any noise. In fact, everything looks undisturbed, like an interactive picture taken in the mid 90s. My attempts to conceal my rapid breathing create an involuntary squeak from the back of my throat.

“See, Portland, 1994 - just the same as it’s always been..” his voice trails off bitterly before meeting me with a grin that reaches his eyes.

Either I go with his neurotic story and magic really created this prison dimension - Or he’s managed to go to considerable lengths to create his nostalgia wet dream.

“Where is everybody?”

His brow shoots up, “Have you not been paying attention?”

Kai parks the car just outside the market and grabs a newspaper off the stand on the way inside. I take it from him with trembling fingers just before scanning the headline: Family Massacred in Portland. May 9, 1994… the murders of 4 kids.. One missing.. Malachai parker.. Malachai - Kai. I lower the paper to my lap.

“You believe me now right? I can tell you’re putting the pieces together.”

“Your name is Malachai Parker.” I repeat for clarification.

“Kai-” he corrects me shortly.

“And your dad is Joshua Parker?”

He nods slowly.

So the family mentioned in the article is them. I grew up close to the Parker family, often having play dates with the twins, Liv and Luke, when we were little - Liv was on my soccer team and Luke was my extremely awkward date to the Freshman spring formal. I never knew they had any older siblings, let alone a psychotic brother.

“Okay, so let’s just say I believe you about the magic stuff.. why was I sent here?”

“Well, clearly my dad has come to regret his decision and needs me back. I imagine you’re like the sacrificial lamb.. like a chunk of meat thrown to the lion so that he's full and happy before they let him out of the cage.”

He really knows how to paint a horrific picture, but that still doesn’t explain why I was chosen out of all people. I subconsciously rub at the mark he left on my neck from his teeth, not deep enough to break the skin, but enough to still leave a sore ache when I touch it and to clearly convey his intentions. I’m a piece of meat.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Who names their kid Malachai anyway? It’s like they expected me to be evil.”

I stop just outside the door, giving one final glance back for someone - anyone else.

“Come on,” He takes my arm and pulls me along.

“If you’re a witch, why not use magic to free yourself?”

“What do you think, I can just bibbidi-bobbidi-boo my way out of here? It doesn’t work like that for a lot of reasons,” He starts chucking random junk food and snacks into the shopping cart as we go along, “One of them being, I’m a siphon, meaning I don’t make my own magic, but I can suck it out of other witches or objects with my touch,” he shoots me a dismissive glance, “and since there’s none of that here, we’ll have to wait until my coven makes a move.”

How convenient. He’s a witch without any magic. I feel stupid. I want to kick myself for even playing along with his lunacy. The only thing that article proves is that he's a sociopath, but what could explain the apparent time travel that’s happened here or the absence of civilians? I don’t know how he did it, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility that he’s either the most successful serial killer of all time or he’s not working alone.

I put that thought on the back burner because prisonworld or not, I have to find a way to escape. There’s no such luck while we’re in the store as he makes me hold onto the shopping cart, not letting me out of his sight. I retreat back to the car as he loads the trunk with groceries, fully resigned to head back to the house with him, but he makes one last stop at a seedy windowless building.

We enter a small sex shop.

“Why are we here?”

“Thought we’d get some new stuff to try before things start to go stale between us.”

I scoff, but he ignores me, fully occupied by the fleshlight toy display. I take the chance to look around, heading deeper into the store, past the aisle of gags and bondage devices and to where they keep the X-rated videos and magazines in the back.

“This could be fun..” I hear him murmuring to himself from the other side of the store. If I’m going to do something, it has to be now. I slip behind the counter and find a pistol tucked underneath the register. Bingo! Then I grab the set of car keys next to it, likely belonging to the pick up parked in the small lot. My plans to slip out the back are thwarted by the fact there’s only a storage closet behind the counter.

My heart drops to my knees when he calls out to me, “Hey! So, I just found the cutest little collar for you. Ooooh, and it comes with a matching leash. Come try it on!”

I slip into the closet, clutching the pistol to my chest as I steady my breathing.

It’s now or nothing.

I hear him approach. “Come on out, dollface. Unless.. we’re playing a game of hide and seek.” My heart pounds as fast as a hummingbird’s as he creeps closer. “I love this game, but I should let you know, I always win. Bet you can’t guess what my prize will be,” He’s on the other side of the door, hand slowly turning the loose knob.

“Gotcha!” he yanks the door open but stops in his tracks. I have the gun pointed at the middle of his chest.

His narrowed eyes stare past the barrel of the gun right into me.

“Aww, are you gonna’ shoot me?” his jaw ticks, but the corners of his lips perk up like he’s slightly amused. I’m more afraid of the gun than he is.

“MOVE!” I hold firm and solid, my trigger finger twitching.

“Woah, woah, just put the gun down, hotcakes.” We’re frozen in this standoff until he gets annoyed and lurches at me for the gun. I pull the trigger, flinching in anticipation of the kickback but nothing. Is it even loaded? I don’t have enough time to try the trigger again before he wrenches the pistol from my grasp and decks me across the head with the barrel.

I’m lying on my back, stripped completely bare with my hands secured above my head.

His blurred image comes into focus, watching me from the foot of the bed.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” his grating voice pierces through the ringing in my ears as he moves up my body.

“Wanna see the cool new stuff I got for us?”

He drags the bag on the bed without waiting for my reply and shoves his hand inside, pulling out a vibrator, built like a blunt bullet.

“You’re gonna like this.”

My jaw drops when he grabs a crystal plug and he takes notice, his sinister grin widening, “I don’t even remember putting that in there..” His mocking laughter sends a shiver down my spine.

The next thing I see is a flogger, several leather prongs with shining enamel donning the tips.

“The way you’ve been acting, we’ll get plenty of use out of this one..”

He leans into me and his lips softly ghost along my own even as I sink back and tuck my chin, “So, what am I going to do with you first?”

It’s a rhetorical question, yet his eyes dart to mine eagerly awaiting a response. I don’t have anything, not one quip nor retort. I fucked up my only chance at escape and now I’m going to have to pay the price.

“Awww, nothing to say, babycakes? Where’s that bitchy attitude, hmm? Not one adorably pointless little struggle?”

“.. m’ sorry..” I all but whimper out, letting my emotions choke me up.

Something changes in him. I see through my teary eyes, a frown etched into his face as if he’s disappointed in my submission, like he expected more of a challenge before I completely crumbled.

He sighs and turns to his arsenal of toys, giving it a considerable once over before lifting up the flogger.

“Maybe start with this? How many do you think you can take?”

He holds it in his grasp like a gladiator ready to tame me, I notice how his veins ripple all the way up his scarved bicep.

“NO!” I belt out, kicking my legs with ferocity. He scoops them up and flips me over on my stomach. I hear rattling behind my back and he yanks one leg to the side, fastens a shackle around my ankle and secures it to the adjacent bedpost. The other follows suit despite my protests.

“Wrong answer.. guess we’ll just have to see -”

“Malachai..” I hissed out his name. My final recourse to get him to hear reason, but I can’t force any more words from between my lips before he captures the base of my hair in a tight fist, yanking me up into his chest.

“Let’s set some ground rules, shall we?” I whine as he callously tightens his grasp, tearing locks of hair from the follicle, “I don’t want to hear you call me that again, yeah? I will make mass murder look like child’s play compared to what I’ll do to you. I have nothing but time, baby. Understand?” His threatening words burn like venom along my neck.

“yEss” I croak, paralyzed with fear.

“Wonderful! I’m glad we agree on that. Now, back to the main event.” His tonal change is startling, something I couldn’t get used to. He picks up his weapon, the clang of the metal tips rattling against each other.

I can barely lift my head before I feel those prongs lash across the bare flesh of my ass. The noise I let out is bone-chillingly inhumane, the way it tears up through my vocal cords, it barely registers as my own voice. His short grunts, gruff moans are perfectly timed with my sobs as he makes my thighs raw. I feel him cup my ass cheek with his hand, feeling it burn as blood rises up in my swollen capillaries, the surface welting up beneath his touch.

I think he’s had his fill by the time he places the flog down on the bed, then his hands are on me again, rubbing sloppy circles along my puffy pussy, lips prominent as he pushes them apart to dip into my drooling center.

“Nearly two decades with nothing but pent up sexual frustration then they drop a cute little thing like you in my cage. Whoever sent you here, doesn’t give a fuck about you.” He releases an airy sigh as he slaps my clit with his rough palm.

I tense into an arched position, choking back a moan.

“Poor baby doesn’t know if she wants to cry or come..”

He drives two fingers to the second knuckle, pumping in and out, scissoring me open as I whimper at the stretch.

“What’s all this, huh?” He withdraws and raises his digits to his face to analyze the viscosity of my slick, the way it creates clear strings between his thick fingers when he pulls them apart. “What are you trying to prove here? Think you’re too good to get off to me?”

I bite my tongue, but it’s alright because he speaks enough for the both of us.

“It’s not like you really have a choice. You’re gonna come real soon, aren’t you?” He reads my bodily responses expertly. I hear the buzzing of the vibrator before it finds my clit. My eyes roll back and I clench in place.

“Bet you’re really having fun now, huh?”

I feel the sheets grow damp below me. My cool slick soothing my sore flesh all the way down my thighs.

“You love it… you don’t gotta’ tell me.. jus’ keep making those pretty noises I like.. I feel like you’re just as deprived as I am.. all sheltered with no one to really touch you. Just your one shitty little vibrator you hide in your nightstand and keep on the lowest setting so no one overhears how the perfect princess isn’t so innocent.”

He curls his fingers and I come so hard my brain misfires and my vision goes blurry.

The next moments move in slow motion. I barely register him pulling off his shorts and freeing his cock before he’s back on me, yanking me closer by his firm grip on my hips. I gasp as he pushes into my pulsating heat, stretching my sex as my tight lips move along with the drag of his cock.

He angles my body to his thrusts, tilting my pelvis up so he can drive me down onto his length. The rapid tempo knocks the air from my lungs. His pelvic bone digging into my sore backside. I make the mistake of looking back at him just as he stalls, his cock pulsating against my cervix as I can do nothing but milk him dry with my own orgasm. Becoming even more familiar with the way his brow tenses over his glassy hooded eyes, his powder pink lips fall open for small gasps and grunts as his load coats my inner walls.

He stutters forward, plunging his length deeper into my aching core. When he opens his eyes, I notice his lip twitch and curl in a smirk before he pulls away and I feel empty.

He moves to release my ankles from their restraints and flips me over like a pig on a spit. He follows the length of my body with his eyes, feasting on my gooey center where his own cum starts to pool at my opening, dripping down my slit. He leans down and there’s a devious glint within his steely gaze that makes my breath hike.

He pulls my tender bud between his lips and left wet open-mouthed kisses along my inner thigh, building me back up.

“S.. st… ss. Op… pl- EASE!” I gasp and sputter out my words between uncontainable moans.

It feels so strange, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Maybe like my rose toy. But better? No, worse. It hurts. He sucks and pops my flesh, savoring me like sweet taffy, winding his tongue through my tender labia.

A feral noise rumbles in his chest as he scrapes his teeth along my engorged clit. I keen out loud as he alternates between suckling on me, turning me into a rapid ball of fire.

“D’ you see how much I spoil you? I cook for you, clean you up.. so ungrateful.” he slurps on the mixture of our juices leaking from my pulsating core. I try to swivel my hips and scoot away from him as he rolls my clit with his tongue, his face following my movements.

“The more you try to squirm away from me, the more you open yourself up for me to taste you, babycakes..” His hold locks onto my trembling legs, pinning my thighs flat to my stomach. “Heyyy.. stop it.. stop running from me..”

I weep helplessly in his grasp.

taglist: @daisy-renae @quinsly (comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future posts)

Part 3?

#kai parker #dark!fic #kai parker smut #kai parker x y/n #kai parker x poc reader #kai parker fanfiction #tw noncon #tw kidnapping

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