#it somehow pops up in every single fucking movement and it's because feelings of helplessness suck

[dreadfutures]

unlike some people, the anger and frustration and lack of agency i have in the important situations that surround my intersectionalities and marginalization don’t make me decide to shame any not-perfect attempt at progress in another, less-dire area of life where i do have some agency and burn it to the ground for not being 100% good enough immediately, or for not elevating me and my suffering to the top of the suffering olympics

[joshslater]

Cross Contamination

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I'm fucking furious. To most people Jack Wilson is a hockey hotshot, but to me he is just my wife's ex that can't let go. She said they had another encounter, but wouldn't go into details, saying it wasn't just his fault. She couldn't help herself, she said. Knowing how much she loathes him I suspect she was afraid of him turning violent. He is a star athlete after all, known to have punched more than a few players on the ice.

I know he's training at the stadium right now. That's how bad it has gotten, that I even know his schedule. I'm probably speeding getting there, but nothing else is important right now. I park the car in the huge, but almost empty parking. Neverending slabs of concrete to allow for the cars of thousands of cheering fans during game day. Well, I'm certainly not a fan. Still fuming as I exit the car and heading towards the arena I see him and a few others from his team running towards the same building from across the car park. They must be out for cardio or something. I stop and shout towards them "Hey! Jack!"

I can see them slow down a little, Jack saying something to them, and then breaking apart jogging in my direction while they continue at speed towards the stadium building. I remain still, just glaring at him as he closes in on me. He slows down quite a bit away and saunters towards me, still panting. He has an aura of smug superiority. He's good looking, despite his matted, sweaty hair and week-old beard. It's not just because he's in top shape, but he has that classic athlete chin cut, and mesmerizing eyes to go with it too. He's quite a bit shorter than me, and way denser and muscled, but I would bet my weekly martial arts practice can match him if needed. "Hey, cocksucker! You managed to find your way here," he yells back at me.

"I want you to know..." "Shut up"

I don't know why, but I can't look away from his intense eyes. It's like they can see into me, see every part of me. I'm frozen in place just watching him getting closer. "I said hey cocksucker. What are you waiting for? Go ahead and suck my cock." He says this as calmly as he can, never breaking eye contact. I don't think he blinks. I don't think I blink. I slowly go down on my knees,  grabbing the hem of his sweatpants, and pull down. I still keep eye contact, so I have to feel my way for the waistband of his underwear to pull it down too. I can feel the heat radiate from his steaming body. There's a smell of sweat, not the stale, musky kind, but from someone who showers every day and uses fresh clothes for each workout. He's professional and they got staff. I can hear his heavy breath as he is still recovering from the sprint. And I can feel a rather large cock in front of me that is erect, or at least a good way there. I grab it in my hands and guide the tip to my lips and begin to lick it. It doesn't really taste of much. I open my mouth and get more and more of his compression shirt wrapped abs and pecs in my view as I stare into his deep eyes, and take his big cock deeper and deeper into my mouth.

The tip reaches some point at the back of my mouth and I start to gag, making horrendous gurgling noises. I move back from him. "All the way. I want to be balls deep down your throat, cocksucker." I do as he commands, and push it in again, further. It's somehow much easier this time and my lips are tickled by his moist bush of pubes. I then start to work it, in and out, in and out. The noise I'm making is still horrendous. A wet, sloshy sound, and I hate it. "Yeah, you like that, cocksucker. Now, faster." I grab him by the hip and increase the pace. I get lost in the actions, like nothing matters but his cock, the noise, and his eyes.

I don't know for how long I was in a trance, but I feel him tensing up, pulling me tight to him, and shooting a big load of his cum down my throat. Suddenly the gaze that had held me like a vice breaks and he looks at my face rather than into my eyes. The spell is broken. I'm kneeling in a parking lot with Jack Wilson's cock down my throat, and my nose nuzzled into his pubes. His eyes suddenly widen, and his face turns into horror, like he is looking at a monster. Everything is going like in slow motion. I begin to push him away, to get his disgusting cock out of my mouth as he shoots his second load. Somehow in shock I manage to breathe in his cum. He pulls away from me as well, and his third load ends up just next to me on the concrete. "Fuck!" he says, visibly upset. "It's still in the bloodstream. Spit it out! Spit it out!"

I'm not sure I even have any in my mouth to spit out. It just went straight into my belly and into my lungs. Lungs that are desperately trying to cough up his spunky goo in phlegm-filled, deep whoops. "Fuck!" he shouts one last time, pulls up his sweatpants, and runs towards the Stadium building with one hand holding the pants up. I'm just folded over on my knees coughing and coughing while my mind is racing to make sense of what just happened. My chest is burning and I feel nauseated. There is the salty, bitter taste of cum in my mouth and a stench of athlete sweat as I gasp for air in between the coughs. I keep coughing, but less and less of substance is coming up. I spit out specks of Jack's spunk on the concrete in front of me, and realize what she had meant when she said she couldn't help herself. Did he fuck her? After what just happened I wouldn't put anything past Jack, and there is literally nothing I wouldn't forgive her for having done. She would have been helpless to stop.

I can feel my whole body burning as I get up from the concrete. I'm very aware how my clothes rubs against my body, like my senses have just gone into overdrive. Everything, every single muscle in my body feels sore. My head is spinning. Still coughing I stagger towards my car and get in behind the wheels. As I close the door the world goes silent. I can only hear my own exhausted panting. I'm confused about what is happening and feel sick as shit, but at least the world isn't spinning anymore. Somehow I must have been poisoned. What did he mean with "in the bloodstream?"

I start the car and carefully drive from the parking lot and out in the direction of home. Perhaps I shouldn't be driving at all. Crashing while driving is worse than crashing while sitting in a parking lot, but I really don't want to have to call anyone for help. Not after what I've just been through. I so sympathize with the movie cliché of a girl sobbing in the shower. I only want to cleanse myself in any way possible. To get rid of Jack from me. Even now I can feel the smell of athletic sweat, like it was clinging on to me.

There is a big pop accompanied by one of the chest buttons on my shirt shooting off in the car. The pop isn't so much heard as felt, as a reverberation in my body like someone just punched me in the chest, with dull spikes of pain in the joints. I swerve dangerously close to the side of the road. It feels like my shoulders pops into their sockets, like my chest just suddenly expands and the rest of my body catches up. There is no mirror I can look in, but I can clearly see something is off just by looking down at my body. What little movement I can make while driving the car feels different.

There is another big shift. Knees and hip joints this time, I think. I'm a little more prepared to handle that one without swerving, but this time I'm instead missing the brake pedal like the seat is set wrong. I scoot forward on the seat and reach the pedal. Now I'm getting real nervous what is happening. I'm almost home though, but I can feel my thigh muscles involuntarily flexing, my feet are hurting, and my stomach is gurgling like bad plumbing.

Her car is not home yet, thank God. I park mine as calmly as I can, screaming inside that I need to get inside and see what the fuck is going on. As I step out of the car I get a first inkling about the enormity of the changes. I almost trip stepping out of the car, and sit down again on the edge of the seat. The fabric on the trousers are straining, and I realize that my feet are probably hurting because they have swollen up inside the shoes. I try to kick off one of the sneakers, but it's stuck enough that I have to untie them. My movements feel off. It's not that it is hard to move. The opposite in fact, but different somehow. Me feet thanks me in relief as they are freed,

With the shoes off I awkwardly make my way into the house and step into the nearest bathroom. It's me in the mirror, of course, but me 5-10 years younger. I'm touching my face in disbelief. But this isn't just me regressed a decade in time. I was way taller than this then. Curious I unbutton the remaining buttons on my shirt and throw it on the floor. The chest and abs are not me 5-10 years ago. I've never looked this buff before. For one I've never had washboard abs, and the pecs and shoulders are wide and meaty. The arms more slender, though still muscular, and the core is built more for function than aesthetics. A bit too dense for the show off V shape. Dense, with a low center of gravity.

It's the body of a hockey player.

I rip off the straining trousers and the socks. Sure enough, massive leg muscles, big thighs, big ass, big feet. Jack the fucking cheater is a fraud in all areas. Whatever the fuck he is taking must have concentrated in his balls, shot into my lungs, and from there gone straight into my bloodstream to do whatever the fuck it's done to me. And there is nothing I can do to hurt him with it. Who would believe me? This is so far from any science I've heard of.

I take a closer look in the mirror again. Perhaps it isn't all bad after all.

[assomoir]

moment’s silence; common tongue

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Pairing: Theodorus van Gogh x MC Summary: Theo spoils her rotten, but she wants to return the favor tonight. Note: The biggest MOST HEARTFELT thanks to @dear-mrs-otome for betaing this fic!! this is for u mrs o ily thank you for tolerating me crying about theo 24/7 and being such an enabler <3 Title taken from hozier’s song of the same name, bc who else can describe bj in graphic details as beautifully as he can. You can also find this fic on AO3. N S F W below the cut.

There’s the rustle of clothes as her nightgown hits the floor, followed by the creak of hardwood as she starts crawling to him; a slight, deliberate sway to her hips. Look at me, she demands of him, and he’s helpless not to obey.

(As if he could ever take his eyes off of her. As if he could stop himself from admiring how even in the brisk darkness of midnight, the moonlight spilling from his window kindly paints her in muted colors, like a masterpiece brought to flesh.)

“Theo,” she calls, her hopeful eyes belying the sinful nature of her actions, “let me?”

(As if he could ever say no.)

Intense blue eyes linger on the way she leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses all over his length, seemingly keen on destroying every last shred of his already fraying self-control. Watch with rapt attention as she curls her tongue over its head before sliding it down along the base as far as she can, taking him into her mouth. He painstakingly restrains his hips from bucking, fingers pressing deep crescents into the mattress he’s sitting on.

She takes a deep breath and slides further down until his cock is dragging harshly against the back of her throat. Hollowing her cheeks, sucking him and bobbing her pretty head up and down. Again, and again, gaining tempo as she gets bolder, until she is choking, gagging— and he suddenly pulls her head back, forcing her to release him with a loud pop that makes him shiver .

Strings of saliva between them glisten in the dark, and it takes him a moment to find his voice again.

“Are you okay?”

“Very,” she rasps, “I want more.”

He’s stroking her chin – smearing the wetness gathered there – when she catches a finger in her mouth and starts sucking soundly. Defiantly telling him she wants, needs, more. He rewards her eagerness with a kiss, replacing his finger with his tongue, drawing her into a leisurely foxtrot he’s leading her on. Coaxing impatient moans that douse them both with liquid heat.

When she peers from behind her lashes, his desperate countenance – marked harsher by the fangs protruding from his jaw – is a sharp contrast to the way his hands gently cradle her burning face and the questioning gaze in his eyes.

“You’ve always been so good to me,” she bends down once again to leave kitten licks on his impossibly hard length, mouthing wetly at the salt and musk that fill her senses, “I— I want to please you tonight.”

Without waiting for an answer, she slowly takes him again. The weight of his arousal inside her mouth satisfies a certain ache inside her chest – one that has been nagging her since day one, when she realized how generously endowed her lover was. Or perhaps she’s only doing this because she just wants him to lose control; to treat her like something made for his own pleasure for once. It’s somewhat sweet, she thinks in her dazed state, how someone so rough and dominating finds release in pleasuring her to exhaustion.

But she wants to return the favor tonight.

She hears him takes a deep breath before murmuring: “Are you sure?”

She knows, God she knows what he’s asking. From the tone of his voice, from the way his hand starts stroking her hair – seconds away from grabbing a handful of it, should she let him – she knows how loaded that question is. She nods in affirmation and moans for a good measure; wanting him to feel every breath, every quiver that stutters out of her throat.

The effect is near-immediate: Theo stands up – choking her in his movement – and tugs her hair harshly as he slides his cock further into her mouth, and she’s once again drowning in him. She revels in his low groan, at how the tip of her nose almost brushes against the patch of fiery hair on his belly, before he finally starts fucking her mouth like she wants him to.

“Do you— ah, think about this often, hondje? ” he asks, hips thrusting in a languid pace. Unhurried. Trying to see how much she will be able to take. The question earns him a muffled moan that vibrates around his cock, and he knows it needs to happen again.

His thrust grows impatient after a while, pushing deeper, more frantic, more desperate, but this time he doesn’t stop even when she starts choking from the intensity of it all.

“I’m going to come,” he warns, the stutter of his hips tells her how close he is. But she just grips his cock and starts sliding her fist along his shaft as her mouth works faster, eager to bring him over the edge. When he comes, his back arches, pushing his length further down her throat – but she happily, contentedly, swallows all that he’s willing to give.

Her throat is so sore she’d probably speak with a rasp for the next several days, her jaw is aching, and spit is running down her chin.  But she’s still so turned on.

Theo obviously knows that, she thinks, because then he kisses her forehead and just throws her naked form down onto the bed. Their eyes meet for one long second before he leans down and sucks at the mound of her breast, a hand teasing the other one. The slow, calculated suckling and caress sets her head spinning so much that she eventually tries to stifle the sounds escaping from her mouth. At this, he looks up, releasing the reddened bud with an unamused look on his face.

“I want to hear you.”

“But wh—”

She doesn’t get to finish as he roughly pinches her already sensitive nipple, the responding cry swallowing up the rest of her sentence. When she feels the sharp twitch of his cock, half her mind somewhere far away thinks that maybe, maybe, he does want the other men to hear.

“You’ve been so bold tonight,” the smirk returns to his face, “let me see more of that.”

“Theo,” she whimpers, because the other half of her lust-addled brain is still quite mortified at the idea of being heard by the rest of the residents, “just— just kiss me? Please?”

At this very moment, he’s willing to bet the entirety of his reputation that not a single man in this damned world would be able to resist that. The way her eyes gloss over with pleasure, the little tremble of her legs, the gorgeous disarray that is her hair— how can he look at something so beautiful and not want to be the cause of it forever? He swallows a quip about rewarding a well-trained dog and kisses her instead. Firm, but not enough to muffle the sounds she makes. Can’t help but smile when her moans tell him that this isn’t enough.

“Godverdomme,” he murmurs into the kiss, sending a rush of electricity down her spine, “you have no idea what you do to me.”

But she does, for Theo’s touch on her skin is nothing less than pure worship. He spreads her legs open and slowly slides one, then two fingers into her dripping core. Curling, coaxing, moving in and out; slowly at first, his thumb kneading the sensitive flesh above it. Reveling in every facial expression she makes. Savoring the sensual staccato of cries pulled from her lips as he teases her.

The sight leaves his mouth dry, and his fangs are itching to sink themselves in her.

“You— you can, bite me, you know,” she suddenly tells him between moans, somehow noticing the bloodlust boiling just below the surface of his skin. He gives her a particularly rough thrust for that, and her words become feverish. “I t— told you, you don’t need to– ahh, wait for p— permission…”

“…Is that so.”

The death of me, he muses, hooking her legs over his shoulders. Theo bends down to lick a spot on her thigh, and while she’s distracted by the fingers fucking her with a punishing pace— bites. The warm liquid filling his mouth tastes so sweet, almost as sweet as the sensation of her walls clenching impossibly tight around his fingers, or the way her body trembles as climax overcomes her; the first of many to come that night.

(He, too, feels as if he could come from the sight alone.)

They lay breathless for a while, bodies slick and spent basking in the afterglow. She closes her eyes and lets his gaze wander upon her: sated, contented, and undeniably his. The quiet of the night and the lazy lines he traces on the delicate arch of her waist nearly lull her to sleep— that is, until he pinches her cheek with an amused smile that sobers her right away.

“Hondje. You already please me as you are.”

“….oh!”

It takes a moment for her earlier words to flood her memories again, and when they do she buries her flushed face into his chest, still rumbling with laughter. He holds her tight, so tight that the frantic thrumming of her heartbeat is mirrored vividly against his own.

“Hey. Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he warns, a cocky grin plastered in place. She squeals his name and bursts into a peal of delighted giggles, face alight with such joy Theo feels like he’s falling in love with the sun.

The absolute death of me, he quietly thinks, and fully believes in.

[probably-writing-x]

Admittance Pt.2

Guzmán x Reader

Request by @twoghostsandelowen : Is it gonna be a Admittance part 2? maybe when Andér finds out or something? Please don’t leave me like that, i wanna know what’s happening next ❤️

Requests are open🤍

——————

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, let it out,” Guzmán encourages, rubbing your back as he held back your hair.

He’d been doing this far too often recently as you found yourself being sick at school more and more often. It had been a week since you’d been to the hospital to confirm that you were pregnant and still nobody else knew. You couldn’t even think of telling certain people - your brother being top of that list.

Guzmán pulls out a water bottle from his bag and hands it to you, “Here.”

You smile and take it from him as he pushes himself off from the floor of the girls bathrooms.

“Sorry you keep having to do this,” You comment with a groan as you stand up too.

He laughs a little, “Holding your hair back whilst you’re sick with the fear that anybody could walk into the toilets and see me here? You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

You roll your eyes and he laughs gently at you, wrapping an arm around you with ease.

“Come on, lets go before first period starts.”

Somehow, you’d managed to make this work for the full week. Guzmán had been texting you non-stop in the evenings to show you different articles he’d found or different blog pages that he thought explained pregnancy well. He’d even shown you articles about ‘how to tell the family’. He’d been there for you as he said he would be, granted it had only been a week. But there was something about the way he watched every single one of your movements in class that convinced you he would last longer than a week.

“Did you get the information through about the appointment?” Guzmán glances over his shoulder as he asks you, making sure the coast was clear before he even mentioned it.

“Yeah, it’s at the start of next week if that’s okay,” You nod, “I was actually thinking that Ander could come with us if-“

“If we’ve told him by then,” Guzmán finishes for you, “That’s a great idea (Y/n), but how are we supposed to tell him this?”

You go to respond just as Ander and Omar begin walking down the corridor towards you.

“Hey, guys,” Ander says with a slight frown at the sight of you two together again.

Guzmán greets him as if nothing is wrong as all four of you walk into class.

- - - - - -

“How come you’ve been spending so much time with Guzmán?” Ander asks you as the two of you wash the dishes from dinner.

“I told you, we’ve just been going through some revision - he’s really set on graduating this year so he’s asking for all of the help he can get.”

Graduating. Would you even be able to graduate anymore?

“Why did he only ask you?” Ander laughs, “If he wanted help, maybe he should’ve asked someone that could actually help him.”

You hit his arm and roll your eyes, “I’m not an idiot Ander.”

“If you say so! I’m heading out with Omar later, you can come with us if you want to? We’re just going for a few drinks,” Ander explains, drying his hands on the towel and handing it to you.

“No that’s okay, I’ll stay here. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” You jab as he leaves to go and get ready.

You find yourself texting Guzmán straight away to say the coast would be clear. Your mother was at a board meeting this evening and Ander wouldn’t be around - perfect time for you two to talk through some things.

- - - - - -

And, as if by clockwork, Guzmán is sat opposite you only a five minutes after Ander and Omar had left.

“Okay, so I figured there’s a lot that we need to talk about so I thought we should just ask each other any questions that we have and just get it all out into the open. You know, no such thing as a stupid question and I-“

“I’ll go first,” Guzmán places a hand on your knee from where he’d mimicked your position of sitting cross legged on the bed, “How are you feeling?”

You take in a deep breath and try to calm yourself, “I’m okay, I’ve eaten a bit more today and actually kept it down. I feel a bit off balance? I didn’t really expect that.”

“I mean there’s another person in your belly, I’m not surprised if that feels a bit weird.”

“It’s not another person,” You roll your eyes, “Theyre only like this big.”

“Okay, okay,” Guzmán smiles, “Your question.”

“How are you feeling?”

He shifts in his position, legs not exactly fitting into crossing like yours did, “Im fine (Y/n), honestly.”

“Did you mean what you said? About being there through it all?”

“I think it’s my turn to ask a question,” He cocks a brow, “Why would you think I wouldn’t mean it?”

You sigh, “It’s a big commitment Guzmán! And in nine months from now, you should be going out into the world and graduating and starting your future. You shouldn’t be tied down to me or to this whole situation just because of one summer.”

“(Y/n), this whole ‘situation’ was because of both of us. The baby might be inside you but it’s still half mine and half yours. I’d be a pretty shitty person if I expected that to mean I’d never have any responsibility. I know I might not be the model guy to have a baby with but I wouldn’t have chosen you either,” He jokes, nudging your leg slightly, “I meant what I said, if that answers your question.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “This is big, Guzmán.”

He frowns mockingly, “I thought you said it was only this big so far.”

You roll your eyes and reach out a foot to jab him in the ribs. He jumps back and laughs, hopping off of the bed and coming round to wrap an arm around you.

“One good thing about having a baby with me - you don’t have to worry about it being ugly,” He points out, “As long as it looks more like me than you.”

You elbow him in the ribs this time as he laughs but still doesn’t release his arm from around you. So the two of you stay like that together for a long time, asking each other different questions whenever they popped into your head - so much so that you don’t even pick up on the time.

- - - - - -

A few hours must have passed when you bolt awake, Guzmán still beside you having fallen asleep too.

“Guzmán,” You hiss, nudging at his sleeping frame to wake him up, “Guzmán!”

He groans and blinks the fatigue out of his eyes, “What time is it?”

“We fell asleep! Ander and Omar will be back any mi-“

As if you’d set off a terrible chain of reactions, you hear as Ander’s key pushes into the door and he comes into your home.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out and it’s like you’re practically following his path through the house to look for you.

Right up until the moment that he’s stood at your doorway. Omar follows behind and the look that you share tells you he knows this doesn’t end well already.

“Is this studying too?” Ander gestures between the two of you sat on the bed, “Seems like you two have been doing a hell of a lot of studying recently.”

“Ander I can explain-“

“Why don’t you both explain yourselves? What’s this? Some secret affair behind my back?” Ander scoffs, “You couldn’t have just told me?”

“It’s not what you think, honestly,” You continue, “Ander please just calm down.”

“Calm down?” He laughs, “You seriously think you two can just be together and not think I’m going to react? You’re fucking my best friend, (Y/n).”

“Ander!” Guzmán pipes up, stepping forward to stand beside you, “She doesn’t need this kind of stress, okay? Can we be mature about this?”

Ander laughs outwardly, “How would you know what the hell she needs?”

“Because she’s pregnant with my child Ander.”

The words fall like boulders to the ground below, practically dropping the temperature another five degrees as they do. You were certain that it wasn’t the baby causing the sickness that bubbled inside you.

Guzmán looks at you like he’s just done the worst thing imaginable, helplessness seeping into those eyes like he’s terrified of your reaction. He didn’t seem to care about what Ander would say - just you.

“You’re pregnant?” Ander’s shoulders drop like he’s lost his ability to fight back.

“I promise I was going to tell you soon, I just wanted to be sure of everything first and I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

“You got my sister pregnant?” Ander turns all of his attention to Guzmán, “You couldn’t keep your fucking hands away from her, huh?”

“It wasn’t like that, it was never like that, it was over summer an-“ Guzmán tries to continue, looking more innocent than ever as he stumbles over his words.

Ander stops him quickly as he grips onto the material of Guzman’s shirt and shoves him against the wall, face close to his as he seethes with unstopping anger, “You could’ve gone for anybody, anybody! And you went for my sister? My fucking twin sister?!”

Guzmán doesn’t respond.

“And now what? You get her pregnant and expect her whole life to change just because of one of your mistakes?!” Ander yells, “You make me fucking sick!”

With that, he shoves Guzmán to the side and comes straight over to you. It’s like an instant switch as soon as you’re in his sight. He was seeing you in a completely different light - someone he needed to protect now more than ever.

“I want you tell me everything okay, everything I can do, whenever you need me an-“

“Ander,” You settle a hand on his arm, “I won’t be on my own. We’re-“

“Don’t tell me you think he’s going to stay by your side through this,” Ander shakes his head, looking between you and Guzmán, “You’re both as delirious as each other.”

With that, he gives up on both of you and storms back out of the room. You were relieved when Omar followed quickly after him, you dreaded the thought of him being alone after something like that.

“(Y/n), I’m so sorry, it just slipped out and I-“ Guzmán sighs, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t find any energy in you to respond and instead turn and wrap your arms around him, letting him hold you close and confirm to you that you wouldn’t be alone. You couldn’t believe that Ander was right. The thought of being a mother was terrifying enough, let alone being a single mother before the baby was even born.

- - - - - -

Guzmán went home late that night and you’d passed Anders room to see him sleeping beside Omar -relieved that there wouldn’t be anymore arguments for the rest of the night.

The next morning would be a different matter.

“Morning, Omar,” You say as you’re walking down the stairs and he’s just about to walk up.

“Hey,” He offers you a small smile.

“How is he?”

He glances over to the dining room where Ander was sat staring aimlessly into a cup of coffee, “He took it pretty hard last night, and I think he’s trying to process everything. I think more than anything he regrets what he said to you both but he’s too proud to admit it.”

You nod and keep your eyes focused on your brother, “Thank you, I’ll see you later, okay? Or I’ll shout for help if I need it.”

He laughs and squeezes your arm for some slight reassurance before you head through to the kitchen.

Ander glances up as you walk in, swallowing a gulp of his drink, “Morning. Did you sleep okay?”

You pour yourself some juice and sit across from him at the island, “Yeah, did you?”

He nods, “Eventually, took me a while to switch my mind off.”

You look down, “Me too.”

The silence falls and it breaks your heart a little to know you’d caused all of this.

“I’m sorry for how it happened, Ander. I never wanted you to find out like that.”

“I know,” He mumbles, “I didn’t expect to find out I’d be an uncle that way either.”

“I guess not, but you’re still going to be an uncle.”

“How far along are you?” He glances up, eyes flicking to your stomach for just a moment.

“Six weeks, I have my first scan next week. They should be able to detect a heartbeat by then,” You explain, “I only told Guzmán last week.”

“What happened over summer?” Ander continues, “I don’t need all of the details.”

You smile a little, “I’m not sure I know either. Guzmán and I spent a lot more time together than normal and one thing led to another. It wasn’t just a one time thing.”

“So you two are together now?”

“No, no,” You half-laugh, “I knew how you’d react to that, it didn’t seem worth the risk.”

“And he’s willing to be there for you and to father this child?” Ander continues, like he was forcing the pieces of the puzzle to connect in his head.

“I believe him Ander, he’s been really supportive so far and he wants whats best for me, and for the baby,” You encourage, “It’s his baby just as much as it is mine.”

“Okay,” Ander takes a deep breath, setting his coffee down onto the table, “Im not saying I completely believe, or trust, him but I trust your judgement. And I want you to know that if anyone is capable of doing something like this - God it would be you. And you’re not going to be on your own.”

You smile and reach over the table to squeeze his hand, “Thank you, Ander.”

“Uncle Ander and Uncle Omar, huh?” He grins, “I like the sound of that.”

You laugh and it feels like the best thing he could’ve said in that moment. It feels like everything you needed to hear wrapped into one small morning conversation between just you two.

Uncle Ander and Uncle Omar. It did have a nice ring to it.

[lethe-distillery-blog]

All for Him

“Fuck me,” the words came out in a whimpering plea past my lips, I hated how he teased me. His fingers sliding in and out of me with a precision that left me moaning and only inches from the edge. I rubbed against him, trying to gain the relief I so desperately craved but he masterfully kept me from touching what would finally bring an end to this sensual torture. I hated that he knew me so well, his fingers knowing exactly where to touch, how much pressure to apply and what exactly I needed to finally go toppling over the edge. He toyed with my slick folds with a master’s understanding and skill, his repertoire of the hedonistic arts an asset to his raw and innate sensuality. I hated that he made me beg. “Now!”

 His laugh was a low sensual vibration against my back, more a feeling than actual sound as his lips turned upward into a smile from where he was kissing the bare skin of my shoulder and neck. “Mm,” the sound came on a satisfied exhale against me, “not really in the position to be making demands of me,” his deep voice taunted me, “though there is something erotic about you trying to be in control. Especially when I’m here, holding you, fingering you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” He held me firm as I squirmed, just to prove his point. His erection pressed against the swell of my ass and he pulled me against him, his voice an erotic monologue in my ear. “Though it is sexy as hell for you to admit to it finally.” What I hated the most was that he knew I wanted this, what’s more, he knew something even more dangerous. He knew I wanted it from him.

 “I hate you.” It came out a low whimper, as he withdrew his teasing fingers out from the depths of my wet pussy, my body clenching around them in protest at their departure. My nerves were hyper sensitive, my body stretched taut. Ready. Waiting.

 He laughed at me, undaunted by my meager attempts at dignity. He knew far too much about me and my desires. “I know.” His breath scorched across my ear and neck. My skin flushed, my temper flared dangerously, but what was worse was the way my body reacted to him. My back arched, into him, feeling his chest press up against my spine. My nipples turned painfully hard, eager for attention, and my core clenched with the wanton need and desire for him. “Tell me again.” His now freed cock was hot to the bare skin of my back as he ground himself against me, his hot pre smearing in molten trails that felt like they would blister me.

 “I hate that you do this to me.”

 “Tell me.” His voice held an edge I anticipated despite myself.

 “Fuck you.” I growled, pressing into him with an act of desperation. Trying to maneuver him between my legs, trying desperately to achieve my own satisfaction, to prove I didn’t need him. I whimpered in frustration as it didn’t work. “Just fuck me!” I hissed between clenched teeth.

 “With pleasure.” His words slurred on a sensual growl as he took my hips and slid into me with a single, hard, precise, thrust.

 I bit the hand he spread over my mouth, even as I gasped into it as my body stretched to accommodate his size driving into me with such delicious violence. My core burned at his entrance into my channel, my breasts bounced within the confines of my shirt sending delightful tingling sensations through the hypersensitive nipples. Oh gosh yes. He knew me, knew everything I craved, I did not want some sensual satisfaction. I wanted it hard. I wanted him to take me, to possess me in ways that no one else ever had. He took what he wanted from me, and I was helpless before him, I gave because there was no other choice. He consumed me like a storm, and I was left to try and weather the chaos.

 My body clenched around him as he withdrew, I whimpered in frustration, feeling empty before he slammed into me again, his hips clapping against mine with the muffled slap of skin on skin covered by hastily pressed aside clothing. Oh, yes. He filled me so full it felt like he would rip me in half and I needed more of it. I wanted more of it. “Yes,” his voice was a low ragged sound in my ear, his teeth scraping along the skin on the side of my neck, “just like that.” I bucked back into him, glaring at him over my shoulder, knowing that he was enjoying himself far too much. Stretching my pleasure out, tighter and thinner until I felt like my very sanity was going to snap under the strain of it. I nearly shrieked in my frustration as he slowed his thrusts as I bucked back into him. Tears pricked my eyes as fury and sensual desire made my whole body spasm around him. “Mm,” he bit my shoulder in a wide open mouthed clench, his tongue sliding along my skin in a sensation dance of tasting and taking. His whole body surrounding me in a sensual cocoon of scent, warmth, and sexual musk that was nearly driving me crazy. But when he slid out, nearly letting his manhood pop out of me, and smacked my ass with a solid sound I felt my eyes roll back in their sockets, even before he slammed back into me. I wanted to beg him to do it again but I knew that it would only encourage him, only give him more power over me and that was the last thing I needed.

 Still though, even without my encouragement he did it again. His hand connecting with a sharp sting of pleasure and the spreading of warmth from the connection. I whimpered into his hand, hating how much I enjoyed what he did to me, more over I hated that it was him that gave it to me, that he could drive me to such wanton need and desire. For him. Again his hand connected, again. My back arched, and only then did it stop, only then was the sensitive skin of my ass relieved from his hand, though his hips still drove into me again and again with solid slaps of contact. I hissed out a breath as he bit down down on my earlobe. “You are going to cum for me,” I bit on his palm, infuriated by him thinking he could control me, that he could somehow keep me from doing as I damn well pleased. “Mm, and I am going to make sure you know that it came from me.”

 I thrust against him, harder, more desperate, eager, frustrated. I needed to climax but any time I came close he would slow and make it fall away from my reaching fingertips. I tried to help myself. Squeezing my nipples hard, pinching them and rolling them between my thumb and forefinger, moaning into his hand, the pleasure was a sharp spike of pleasure that ricocheted through my body, but even as I thrust back into him, even as I pinched my nipples, it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough because he wasn’t letting to become enough! Oh gosh, I could literally starting to feel my sanity starting to crumble away, feeling that yawning call to just give in to him, to let him take me, to let him have me. It was more tempting that it should have been, even as I fought him, fought the desire to let him take me over completely. I fought, grabbing onto the arm that was in front of me, attached to the hand over my mouth and attacked it with feral desperation. Sinking my nails deep into the flesh as I fought to cum, as I fought to spite him and cum without his damned permission. I was no sub, even though he was a dom. I would do what I damned well pleased. Regardless of him and his fucking dictates. Starting with my ability to cum!

 I screamed into his hand, the sound muffled to nothing more than a murmur beneath his administration. My frustration consuming me as I thrashed in his grasp, nearly feral in my desperation. I shook under the weight of it, under the desire so intense that everything else was secondary. I felt his hand shift to my hips, I felt the cords of muscle tighten. Oh yes, oh fuck yes, this is what I craved, this, is what I needed! He slammed into me, hard and fast, the steady thrusts giving way to a feral possession that filled me entirely. My whole body burned for him, for this, my breasts bouncing so hard that the hit the wall in front of us, my forehead pressed against it, my lip caught beneath my teeth as I fought to not scream in triumph and in satisfaction as he ravaged me. Harder he thrust, harder in a wild erotic pattern that made him so much more beast than man. My hips screamed their protests, my lungs burned, my nails cut deep grooves into my palms as the pleasure mounted, higher and higher. Oh yes, gosh yes, this is what I needed, this is what I wanted. I was getting close, so close, my whole body burning up as I reached for my climax. The whole pleasure of it consuming me as if I was being swallowed by the sun itself! “Cum for me,” said the voice of a demon, “now!” And there, as I was burned alive. I splintered apart.

 I limped a little despite myself, fighting to not let it show. It would only go to the bastards head if he saw it. But everything ached in the most delicious way. My whole pussy was raw from his savagery of me and still I wanted more. My breasts still tingled and felt heavy in their cups, my throat felt raw and I was going to give myself away with how often I was still biting my lip, every movement a wicked reminder of what he had done to me. He had taken me. As he had promised. Consumed me like the storm he was and leaving nothing left for me to salvage. I was finishing dinner, it smelled incredible. And soon my husband would be home, I had picked up the children already from school and it was hard to avoid their scrutiny. I had said I wasn’t feeling right. Which I wasn’t.

 Nothing about this whole thing could ever be considered right. I looked over to where he stood leaning against the wall, looking like the sensual and feral predator he was, watching me with those eyes made of quick silver. I felt him watching me, it was like a physical touch that burned me to my very core. “I told you you wanted me.” I turned to face him, his over six foot height dwarfing me and his smile was positively wicked as he watched my face flush.

 “I told you not to come!” It was all I could sputter out, all that would work itself out of my sex crazed thoughts. And as he went to respond, my husband came in the door. I went over to him, kissing his cheek softly, the stretching movement made my ass tingle and I could still feel his hot seed buried inside me. I hated that he had visited without my permission. Mostly, because I knew this would happen. My single ounce of control that I had held in my palm, that I had kept him away with for so long, had been nothing before the onslaught of his desires in person. My body shivered as I felt him looking over me, and I knew, without a doubt, that he would be coming for me again, and I needed to make sure that I didn’t let him know exactly how much I wanted it. Still though, I could hear his words in my head as clearly as though he had spoken them out loud. ‘We both know that you think of me anyways.’