Romans & histoires Slapstick

She laughed, high and brittle, like someone who had broken too many times to sound sane. The sound of it…the manic little bark…made something cold and clean click into place inside me. I laughed too before I meant to, a short, cruel sound that bounced off the walls. I rubbed the stinging welt on my cheek where she had just hit me; her slap still smoked. “You want me to look like you?” I said, letting the mockery drip. “Have you always been stupid, or are you still studying for the role?” She slapped me again. The second hit was harder, angrier, and the room blurred for a heartbeat with the sting. My ears hummed. For a second the world narrowed to the circle of her ruined smile and the sharp,

Is he trying to be funny? “And the only topic you could pick up to have a talk with me about is just my nightmare? Do you think I am stupid or what?” I snap. The jerk smirks. smirk that earns him a resounding heavy slap from me. And it lands perfectly on his hard face. But instead of my slap shutting him up, it raptured him into deafening laughter. “I am not stupid, Morgan, or whoever you said your name is. Who sent you?” I ask.

“Besides, I’m not the one choking on compliments.” “That wasn’t a compliment,” he mutters, side-eyeing me. “That was verbal whiplash.” I shrug. “Felt like a compliment. You’re welcome.” He stares at me for a second too long, then shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re lucky you’re hot when you’re smug.” I grin. “And you’re lucky I’m injured, or I’d prove it.” “Oh yeah?” He leans in, one eyebrow raised. “You gonna hobble over here and impress me with your limping seduction?”

Nevaeh, now back on her feet, looked at me with an air of meekness and gently spoke, "Mag, please apologize to everyone. Don't make Dad any angrier. Ignoring her, I picked up a nearby wine glass, swirling its contents as I asked, "Dad, I'll ask you one last time. "Are you certain that your biological daughter, the sole heiress of the Saccone family, is Nevaeh and not me?" My persistence drew mocking laughter from the crowd. Right then, Don puffed out his chest and replied firmly, "Of course! How could I possibly mistake my own daughter?" Before his words even finished, I hurled the wine glass straight at his forehead, shattering it against him. I then turned and slapped Nevaeh across the fac

she giggled at her own joke. Guila’s giggle rippled through the air, a moment of levity amidst the heavy atmosphere. Her joke, bizarre and unexpected, painted a vivid picture in my mind. I couldn’t help but smile at her words, the image she conjured absurdly amusing. It was as if, even in the darkest moments, she managed to find a glimmer of humor, a ray of light that pierced through the shadows.

Awful. I wrapped both hands around it and stared into the abyss. “I’m sorry I slapped you.” “I know.” “I’m sorry I’m a walking disaster.” “Also know that.” “I’m sorry I tried to fuck the sad out of me using your dick like a sledgehammer.” He snorted so hard coffee came out his nose. “Okay, that one’s new.” I peeked up at him. He was wiping his face with a dish towel, shoulders shaking from laughing, and God I hated how much I loved making him laugh even when I wanted to die.

Slap! The stinging echo of the slap reverberated through the kitchen, punctuating the oppressive silence. Elena's cheek burned from the force, a fiery trail left in its wake. She winced but quickly buried her pain, focusing on the mound of dishes piled in the sink. The cold, greasy water splashed against her raw, frostbitten fingers, intensifying the dull throb in her hand. Each plate she scrubbed felt like another weight added to her shoulders, the indignity of her position pressing down on her like a vice.

The size of baseballs, there was no way those assholes weren't being beaten into pulp. "We've got to hurry," I called as I rushed over to Thane and Harry. I straddled Thane's still prone form. Leaning down, I slapped my hand across his face as hard as I could. Harry chuckled. "Well, that's one way to do it." Thane bucked up, almost junk jacked me. "What the fuck?" he whipped his head from side to side as I scrambled to get away from his giant dick-smashing head. He looked up at me. Glared. "Did you punch me?" He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "And then slap me?"

His hand moved to his hair stroking it , that is what he does when he wants to lose it Claudia come here , he said with a sly smile , three seconds Claudia was still on her spot not moving, that was it , Luke Shaw light up his cigarette now clearly upset claudia did I stutter? Or I spoke French? I said come here ! Luke yeld Claudia seeing the seriousness finally moved to him then SMACK.!!!!!!! The slap cracked through the room. Claudia hit the floor hard, her head snapping sideways. Blood burst from her lip, painting the concrete. Before she could even breathe, his boot caught her ribs once, twice. She curled in, choking on a scream.

Her back arched, her ass pointing out further as she sprawled her arm on the desk, mistakenly shoving my glasses. I delivered another strike and another, I kept going at it like a sadist, her buttom an angry red and finally she screamed, “stop” but after the slap she gave me, I needed to have my pound of flesh and with that I delivered two consecutive slaps. The sound she made was animalistic, “oh fuckkk,” the sound sounded like grovel I didn't let her land as I landed another one before she slid of the table and landed on the floor, cursing.