leave me alone i have feelings

Ketch Her If You Can

Title:  Ketch Her If You Can

Summary:  Dean’s not happy when Ketch and the reader start flirting. Ketch seems interested in her, until the truth comes out, then he shows his true colors.

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Dean Winchester, Female Reader, Arthur Ketch, Sam Winchester

Word Count:  1795

Warnings:  canon typical violence

Author’s Notes: This was written for @supernatural-jackles Birthday Challenge. My prompt was the gif below. I decided to go a different route and not write demon!Dean. Also, this is smut free. Go figure.

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“You know, those hands of yours… could prove useful in bed~ <3“

“…Dude CAN YOU NOT?!

I have no idea where I was going with this. I just wanted Daithi to flirt with Shush.

Sorry Hush. The idea wouldn’t leave me alone.

@shushowl / @hushowl

anonymous asked:

Hi. This might be random but do you have any advice for feeling lonely? Recently I've felt very alone and I don't really have anyone I can talk to. Thanks for your time

You sent this to me two weeks ago and I have been thinking every day about how to answer it and, love, I have to be honest… I still don’t know. 

This is the thing that I struggle with the most in this life. I wait for people to get sick of me. I wait for people to leave me. I wait for people to realize that my personality is annoying. And it usually becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. The more I don’t want to lose someone, the sooner they’re gone. 

I often feel completely unmoored to anyone, which is the most terrifying thing in the world. Because if you don’t have someone you’re tied to, there isn’t anyone to care about the fact that you’re floating off alone in space. 

And, logically, I know that’s ridiculous. I’m so fucking blessed with the friends I’ve had forever– my best friend Ashley, who’s been there for me since we were twelve. My cousin Courtney, another best friend who has been with me since I was born and I know she would never forget about me or let me go untied. My cousin Amanda, who I have some of the best memories of my life with and is truly the Christian version of me (lmfao.) My incredible friend Emily who has stuck with me since I was a fifth grader and she was in seventh grade, and we have literally nothing in common but we still make each other laugh like crazy and we love the shit out of each other. My beautiful, sweet bestie Gwendolin who has been teaching me since I was fifteen years old that it’s possible to mean well, to intend the best, and still be incredibly flawed, and it’s a message that I frequently need to re-learn. Shaina, my Jewish/music soulmate who knows the ins and outs of the way my brain works when it comes to music and I truly think that our minds were made to create together. My Sophii, who is a tumblr friend but who has been there for me forever and I couldn’t express how much I love and appreciate all the laughter and logic and goodness that she brings into my life. She will never know how grateful I am for her friendship. 

I guess what I’m trying to show you is that you can be surrounded by people who care about you and still feel like you’re drowning in isolation. And it’s scary and awful and actually genuinely harrowing because you start to think… what the fuck is the point? Why do I do stuff, why do I care, why do I get out of bed if I’m all alone? Nobody cares, why should I? 

There’s literally nothing I can say to you because I genuinely haven’t figured out how to fix it. I’m terrified all the time. I want to wrap my arms around you and tell you not to be lonely, but that would be hypocritical of me. So instead, you can imagine me quietly sitting next to you on your bed and just existing with you and being the person who really wants you to get out of bed; really wants you to succeed and to try hard and to go out there and do what you need to do. 

Even when it feels like there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, I need you to know that this too shall pass. And I need to remember that too. 

Firsts [2]

pairing: kazuchika okada | original character

summary: okada is with you the entire time in the delivery room, and every step of the way after that.

tags: @daintymissdevitt @daddy-slug @baleesi @neversatisfiedgirl @ambrosegirlforever @wrestlingnoob @blondekel77 @justhavingfun123469 @nickysmum1909 @kyoukohorimiya @wrestlingxbalorxrollins
@motleymoose

“If you want to go lay down for a bit, I can get him out of the carseat and feed him.”

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treasuregal21  asked:

To Law: *ahem* I think your amazing and really attractive(I'm a weak girl who loves attractive men leave me alone), I think you have an amazing crew and I feel sometimes you need a hug. I don't know what I'm saying I just think your an amazing person and really cool! 😁🍊

Law:

The man stares at you in silence, not knowing how to react to your words. “Thank you.” He merely says and keeps staring at you, not caring about the fact that he might make you uncomfortable. Time passes, neither of you speak, he just holds your gaze. Then, he speaks up again, “I’m not sure if you should go around and tell others that you’re weak, Y/N- ya. It can get dangerous for you.” To your surprise, he starts to smirk. “Unless you like being in danger.”

Rick Riordan won a Stonewall award today

for his second Magnus Chase book, due to the inclusion of the character Alex Fierro who is gender fluid. This was the speech he gave, and it really distills why I love this author and his works so much, and why I will always recommend his works to anyone and everyone.

“Thank you for inviting me here today. As I told the Stonewall Award Committee, this is an honor both humbling and unexpected.

So, what is an old cis straight white male doing up here? Where did I get the nerve to write Alex Fierro, a transgender, gender fluid child of Loki in The Hammer of Thor, and why should I get cookies for that?

These are all fair and valid questions, which I have been asking myself a lot.

I think, to support young LGBTQ readers, the most important thing publishing can do is to publish and promote more stories by LGBTQ authors, authentic experiences by authentic voices. We have to keep pushing for this. The Stonewall committee’s work is a critical part of that effort. I can only accept the Stonewall Award in the sense that I accept a call to action – firstly, to do more myself to read and promote books by LGBTQ authors.

But also, it’s a call to do better in my own writing. As one of my genderqueer readers told me recently, “Hey, thanks for Alex. You didn’t do a terrible job!” I thought: Yes! Not doing a terrible job was my goal!

As important as it is to offer authentic voices and empower authors and role models from within LGBTQ community, it’s is also important that LGBTQ kids see themselves reflected and valued in the larger world of mass media, including my books. I know this because my non-heteronormative readers tell me so. They actively lobby to see characters like themselves in my books. They like the universe I’ve created. They want to be part of it. They deserve that opportunity. It’s important that I, as a mainstream author, say, “I see you. You matter. Your life experience may not be like mine, but it is no less valid and no less real. I will do whatever I can to understand and accurately include you in my stories, in my world. I will not erase you.”

People all over the political spectrum often ask me, “Why can’t you just stay silent on these issues? Just don’t include LGBTQ material and everybody will be happy.” This assumes that silence is the natural neutral position. But silence is not neutral. It’s an active choice. Silence is great when you are listening. Silence is not so great when you are using it to ignore or exclude.

But that’s all macro, ‘big picture’ stuff. Yes, I think the principles are important. Yes, in the abstract, I feel an obligation to write the world as I see it: beautiful because of its variations. Where I can’t draw on personal experience, I listen, I read a lot – in particular I want to credit Beyond Magenta and Gender Outlaws for helping me understand more about the perspective of my character Alex Fierro – and I trust that much of the human experience is universal. You can’t go too far wrong if you use empathy as your lens. But the reason I wrote Alex Fierro, or Nico di Angelo, or any of my characters, is much more personal.

I was a teacher for many years, in public and private school, California and Texas. During those years, I taught all kinds of kids. I want them all to know that I see them. They matter. I write characters to honor my students, and to make up for what I wished I could have done for them in the classroom.

I think about my former student Adrian (a pseudonym), back in the 90s in San Francisco. Adrian used the pronouns he and him, so I will call him that, but I suspect Adrian might have had more freedom and more options as to how he self-identified in school were he growing up today. His peers, his teachers, his family all understood that Adrian was female, despite his birth designation. Since kindergarten, he had self-selected to be among the girls – socially, athletically, academically. He was one of our girls. And although he got support and acceptance at the school, I don’t know that I helped him as much as I could, or that I tried to understand his needs and his journey. At that time in my life, I didn’t have the experience, the vocabulary, or frankly the emotional capacity to have that conversation. When we broke into social skills groups, for instance, boys apart from girls, he came into my group with the boys, I think because he felt it was required, but I feel like I missed the opportunity to sit with him and ask him what he wanted. And to assure him it was okay, whichever choice he made. I learned more from Adrian than I taught him. Twenty years later, Alex Fierro is for Adrian.

I think about Jane (pseudonym), another one of my students who was a straight cis-female with two fantastic moms. Again, for LGBTQ families, San Francisco was a pretty good place to live in the 90s, but as we know, prejudice has no geographical border. You cannot build a wall high enough to keep it out. I know Jane got flack about her family. I did what I could to support her, but I don’t think I did enough. I remember the day Jane’s drama class was happening in my classroom. The teacher was new – our first African American male teacher, which we were all really excited about – and this was only his third week. I was sitting at my desk, grading papers, while the teacher did a free association exercise. One of his examples was ‘fruit – gay.’ I think he did it because he thought it would be funny to middle schoolers. After the class, I asked to see the teacher one on one. I asked him to be aware of what he was saying and how that might be hurtful. I know. Me, a white guy, lecturing this Black teacher about hurtful words. He got defensive and quit, because he said he could not promise to not use that language again. At the time, I felt like I needed to do something, to stand up especially for Jane and her family. But did I make things better handling it as I did? I think I missed an opportunity to open a dialogue about how different people experience hurtful labels. Emmie and Josephine and their daughter Georgina, the family I introduce in The Dark Prophecy, are for Jane.

I think about Amy, and Mark, and Nicholas … All former students who have come out as gay since I taught them in middle school. All have gone on to have successful careers and happy families. When I taught them, I knew they were different. Their struggles were greater, their perspectives more divergent than some of my other students. I tried to provide a safe space for them, to model respect, but in retrospect I don’t think I supported them as well as I could have, or reached out as much as they might have needed. I was too busy preparing lessons on Shakespeare or adjectives, and not focusing enough on my students’ emotional health. Adjectives were a lot easier for me to reconcile than feelings. Would they have felt comfortable coming out earlier than college or high school if they had found more support in middle school? Would they have wanted to? I don’t know. But I don’t think they felt it was a safe option, which leaves me thinking that I did not do enough for them at that critical middle school time. I do not want any kid to feel alone, invisible, misunderstood. Nico di Angelo is for Amy, and Mark and Nicholas.

I am trying to do more. Percy Jackson started as a way to empower kids, in particular my son, who had learning differences. As my platform grew, I felt obliged to use it to empower all kids who are struggling through middle school for whatever reason. I don’t always do enough. I don’t always get it right. Good intentions are wonderful things, but at the end of a manuscript, the text has to stand on its own. What I meant ceases to matter. Kids just see what I wrote. But I have to keep trying. My kids are counting on me.

So thank you, above all, to my former students who taught me. Alex Fierro is for you.

To you, I pledge myself to do better – to apologize when I screw up, to learn from my mistakes, to be there for LGBTQ youth and make sure they know that in my books, they are included. They matter. I am going to stop talking now, but I promise you I won’t stop listening.”

2

s3e08 - wizard battle

click for better quality!

2

“on the glass, the word took shape.

M U R D E R E D

it began another word. there was not enough space left between the D and the new word, and so the second word partially obliterated the first. and again, again, again, across each other:

M U R D E R E D M U R D E R E D M U R D E R E D

stepping forward, leaning over the hood of the car, ronan pressed his finger to the windshield, and while they watched, he wrote:

R E M E M B E R E D.

Let Me Help

Spencer Reid x Reader (smut)

Requested: Yes. Anon: hey! I really love your blog and I was wondering if you could do a reid x reader where the reader has a wet dream about Spencer and she finally tells him about her dream after he asks her what’s wrong and it ends in smut?? thank you so much

Word Count: 3,589, Warnings: Swearing, NSFW, Oral Sex.

A/N: Oh my God okay so I went a little crazy on this one and it’s a full fledged long fic. I was writing this and I actually needed to take a break my palms were sweating because Reid is so fucking hot. Anyway, I hope you like it! Please let me know if you want a Part 2 ;)

- M xo

(Gif not mine, credit to owner)

Originally posted by hisirishsoufflegirl

Sprawled out on your bed, your naked form was being admired and touched by a handsome man. He glided his fingers up and down the sides of your thighs as he placed sensual kisses on your stomach. “God, you’re so beautiful.”, whispered Spencer. 

Wait what? Spencer? Hold on. Did you just have a wet dream about your nerdy co-worker?

You woke up in your bed covered in sweat as you tried to calm down your flustered state as you panted heavily trying to vaguely recollect the memories of the dream you had just had. It wasn’t a bad dream, in fact, it was amazing. You squeezed your thighs together in hopes of some sort of relief, but all you could do was think about the dream, which made your state even worse.

You sat there in silence as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. You’d been working at the BAU for 4 years now and you had never thought of Spencer that way. Sure he was tall, had gorgeous chiselled cheekbones and never failed to amaze you with his intelligent brain. Oh, God. Here you were thinking inappropriately about your co-worker at 3 in the morning when you had to be in for work at 7. There was no way you were going to act normal in front of him after this strange yet intoxicating image of you and Spencer practically having sex ingrained in your brain. All you could do was try to get back to sleep and hope that the flush would be over in the morning.

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im so tired of fake friends..
and by fake friend I don’t mean friends that act cool to your face and then talk shit when you leave. No no no no. I mean something way worse than that.
I mean those “friends” who say they’ll always be there for you, the ones that tell you if you ever need anything you can always talk to me, but when you need them they’re nowhere to be found. The friends that make plans with you multiple times and make up some excuse for why they can’t come now or just never text you at all and you’re just stuck waiting until hours later they have some flimsy excuse as to why they never got back with you.
You know… those “friends”.

The Friendly Wager (Part 1)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,528

Warnings: language, fluff, sarcasm, bad date, implied sexual situations (no smut)

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?” I think this will have at least seven parts, so Kait, please feel free to disregard it till it’s completed :)

Part 1 - 2

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

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“JUNHUI SENT A VIDEO” ੭ JUNHUI

Contains :  bestfriend!junhui, SMUT !  

Group : SEVENTEEN

Member : Jun/Wen Junhui

Words : + 2,8k

Summary : Junhui was a cocky guy, that was for sure, but you never thought that he was that cocky, as you glare at your phone screen, a shaky finger pressing on the imagine of his smooth torso, his hand wrapped around his cock.

Originally posted by indigyu

A/N : For all my babies suffering from the lack of seventeen smut, there you go ! + I’m writing this now instead of after my exams because I was revising and my friend sent me the video of Jun dancing to Who and yeah I couldn’t.
+ someone told me it was similar to other smuts and yes it is, I red other writings with the same plot so this smut is inspired by them


[11:06] you : jun, leave me alone

A sigh left your lips as you placed your phone beside you, trying to focus on the papers all over your desk. Fingertips rubbing your temples, you closed your eyes, trying to remember the things you were reading a few moments before. You hated it, you hated having to learn things by heart, just to recite everything like a robot in front of a teacher, as if it would prove that you were intelligent or something.

On top of that, your best friend was texting you non stop. You were already a pretty distracted person, but with him making your phone buzz every minute, it was even worst. He was a year above you, and didn’t have to pass any exams. His school year was over, and he was celebrating it tonight, in a party thrown by someone from his class.

But apparently, the party wasn’t that amazing, since it seemed like he wasn’t leaving his phone to go grind on some girl.

 [11:07] junhui : talk to meeeee :(
[11:07] you : omg jun why are you like this, leave me alone
[11:08] junhui : its boring without you :(

A laugh escaped your lips, he was probably at least a bit tipsy. See, Jun was your best friend, but you both had this thing were you acted like you hated each other. But when alcohol was running in his system, Jun was the first to spill his feelings, and it was always so rewarding to see his face the day after when you red him his drunk texts.

[11:08] you : you know i have my last test soon
[11:08] you : are you already drunk ? its not even midnight omg
[11:09] junhui : no shit i fucking know you have a test
[11:09] junhui : i cant believe you left me like that

You rolled your eyes at his text, before typing. Yeah, you could understand him. You two were ready to leave, because you were supposed to go with him, but you decided to stay at the last minute, quickly leaving your tight dress for your large pyjama shirt.
Jun had tried to convince you to go with him, after all, the test was only in a week, but you didn’t want to waste time partying while you could use this time to work.

[11:10] you : dont be like this, you know its an important test
[11:10] you : go dance or something, we’ll have all summer to party together
[11:11] junhui : i dont want to dance :( :( :(
[11:11] you : yOU’RE SO ANNOYING JUGNDHGU
[11:11] you : im gonna study byyye

For a moment, the boy stopped texting you, and you thought that maybe he was finally dancing and having some fun. Going back to your notes, you tried to memorize everything, repeating the important points to yourself.
A tired smile stretched your lips when you finally got everything right, moving to the next text. Rolling your eyes, you groaned, seeing how long the plan you had to memorize was, and how depressing the text was, talking about how Humans were damned no matter what.

You took a deep breath, sitting comfortably before starting reading every point, then, your phone buzzed again.

[11:25] junhui : hi
[11:26] junhui : answer me
[11:27] junhui : y/n
[11:27] junhui : :(
[11:28] junhui : i wont stop until you answer
[11:29] junhui : thats the worst party ive ever seen
[11:30] junhui : and i cant even leave because mingyu is the one driving
[11:30] junhui : plus im kind of drunk
[11:30] junhui : wow i cant believe you did this to me
[11:31] you : omg wen junhui ill kill you

You sighed, he wasn’t going to leave you alone, you had to navigate between answering him and revising, rolling your eyes, maybe going to the party was a better idea.

[11:31] junhui : i like when you call me by my full name thats hot
[11:31] you : wtf you have weird kinks
[11:32] junhui : wow cant believe my best friend is shaming me for my kinks !
[11:33] you : find mingyu, maybe he will drive you home
[11:33] junhui : nah i saw him going upstairs with some random girl
[11:34] you : gross
[11:34] junhui : i cant believe u did this to me
[11:35] you : omfg junhui how many times are you going to say that ?
[11:35] junhui : until you apologize ???
[11:36] you : fuck you this exam is more important than an obviously shitty party

You breathed, all your focus now on the coversation with your best friend. He would distract you anyway, and you wouldn’t be able to get any work done, so what was the point. Giving a last look at the pile of paper, you moved from your desk to your bed, trying to find a decently cold spot.

[11:37] junhui : ohmy god your test is in a fucking week
[11:38] you : fuck its just a party why are you getting mad about it ?
[11:38] junhui : because
[11:39] you : you’re a child
[11:39] junhui : whatever
[11:40] you : omg

You growned, dropping your phone on your side, your arm resting on your eyes. He didn’t respond, and it was for the best, when Jun was drunk, he could either be super whiny for nothing, or super angry for nothing, and you would rather stop talking to him for the night than have a conversation with an angry stubborn guy.

The summer night was growing hotter, your shirt starting to stick to your body. Tugging at it to let some air hit your skin, you thought for a moment that Jun finally gave up, maybe finding someone to drive him home.

[11:55] junhui : im in the bathroom
[11:57] you : k
[11:57] junhui : i have a boner
[11:58] you : dID I ASK

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, drunk Jun could be either way super whiny, super angry or super horny, yeah you forgot about that.
See, another thing in your friendship was how comfortable both of you were when it came to sex. Junhui was already super comfortable talking about it, and so, you grew more and more confident talking about it with him. That was one of the few things you were grateful for.

[11:59] you : go get some girl to grind on i’m studying

You lied, hoping and praying god that you couldn’t have to deal with a drunk and horny Junhui.
A few moments passed, and again, you thought that he was out of the bathroom dancing on some girl, because you knew that a lot of them were willing to do it. It wasn’t news that Junhui was pretty popular, his delicate features and sweet voice were enough for a lot of girls, but he also had amazing hands, and those thighs, god, the result of years of dancing.
In addition to all of this, the way his hips moved was sinful. You remember seeing him dancing to one the songs he made with his friends, his hips moving slowly, his hand resting on his thigh, so close to his crotch.

Yeah, these were one of these days where you asked yourself, how the fuck do I even contain myself. 

After moving his hips, you remember his eyes finding yours before he started body rolling, his shoulders broad, toned stomach moving.
And it wasn’t all, the choregraphy continued again until his hands made contact with the floor, supporting himself as he fucking grinded on the floor, powerful thrusts over the floor, and you cursed under your breath.

You couldn’t admit it to yourself, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how his body moved, and you blamed it on sexual frustration, yeah that was it.

But more and more, your breath strated inching everytime he got closer, or when his hands got too adventurous, because he also wasn’t helping it.
But soon, you convinced yourself that you couldn’t think about your best friend in such ways, it was weird. You were making it weird at least.

[00:05] junhui : sent a video

Your thoughts got cut by the sound of your phone, your hand grabbing it before tracing your password, and your fucking mind went blank.

Your eyes stayed glued to your screen, blinking a few times, before checking again the name of the contact, yeah that was Jun.
Your troath was dry, and you tried to swallow the built of saliva.

The thumbnail was enough to leave you breathless, and even more sweaty.

Fuck, what was that for ?

You unconsciously licked your lips, your eyes fixed on the image.

Jun’s was sitting in what looked like a bathroom, his black jeans tugged to the middle of his muscular thighs, his black shirt riding up, revealing a parcel of his skin. His hand was wrapped around his cock, tip already red, several rings hugging his fingers. You couldn’t see his face, the image cut to his sweaty neck, but you could understand that his head was thrown back.

You cursed under your breath, a shaky finger pressing on the message, the image filling your screen before starting.
And it started right away, the boy’s hand slowly pumping up and down, his thumb stopping to collect the drop of precum. Touching his sensitive head, you heard a hiss, your mouth falling agape, waiting for more, and it stopped.

Your eyes widen, still locked on the screen, before catching the small three dots on your phone.

[00:06] junhui : fuck, im so hard
[00:06] junhui : help me

You looked up from your screen, as if someone would suddently appear at the end of your bed to help you in this situation.
Your heart was pounding, what the fuck were you supposed to do ? He sent it like it was the most normal thing to do.

And fuck, you wanted to run away from your phone and hide, but on the other hand, your eyes were still glued to the small picture, your mind replaying the faint hiss.

[00:07] junhui : y/n
[00:08] you : you can’t send things like that omg
[00:08] junhui : omfg its okay youre my best friend
[00:08] junhui : just help me
[00:08] junhui : please

“Best friends”, was that a common thing to send nudes to your best friend ? You took a deep breath, before typing again, what the fuck were you getting yourself into.

[00:09] you : what the fuck do you want me to do
[00:09] you : you have a fucking boner its not my fault youre a horny fuck
[00:10] junhui : sent a vocal

You rolled your eyes, taking your headphones before playing the audio, and your heart sank. It started with a clear, deep moan, you could hear that he was trying to stay quiet, before muffling it, the sound of his hand moving in the background was faint, and he started talking. God, his voice was raspy, low, breathless, “What do you mean it’s not your fault ? I have a fucking boner because of you, fuck- That dress looked so good on you.”

Your breath grew uneven, catching your lip between your teeth. A breathy moan fell from his lips, probably picturing you in the dress you were wearing earlier, “And fuck- d-did you really have to start taking it off in front of me ?” You couldn’t help but smile as you remembered taking the straps off in front of him, letting him see a bit of your bra, but you couldn’t imagine that it had such and effect on him.

“God, please, send something, a picture, anything, I don’t care.”, he moaned, before ending the audio. You eyes widen, a picture ? Fuck, you wanted to continue whatever was going on, feeling the familiar discomfort between your legs but you really didn’t know how to take it.

Eventually, you moved your phone, stretching your arm above your head, opening the camera. Your moved to lay on your back, bending your knee up as your other hand tugged your shirt upwards, enough to show the right of your bra and your panties.

It was the exact same bra that Jun saw as you took your dress off earlier, the lacy black bra un panties hugging your body. You quickly took the picture, cutting it after your lips, your lower lip rosy after biting it, and you sent it.

[00:14] you : sent a picture

Biting your lip, you waited for his responce.

[00:15] junhui : fuck, you look so good
[00:16] junhui : sent a video

And this time, you didn’t hesitate to open the video, your breath stopping. Fuck, if he was touching himself while looking at a picture of you, you could to that too, right ? Your hand traveled down your stomach, letting your finger press on your clit, a gasp leaving your lips.
Keeping your eyes open, you watched as the video opened on your phone, Jun’s hand moving faster this time, and holy shit, he looked so big.
His tip was red, a groan coming from his chest as he moved the phone and,

“Oh my god.”, you cursed under your breath as you took your panties off, your digit spreading your wetness. You gasped as Jun moved the phone so you were able to fully see his hand pumping his cock and his face, and god, he look amazing.

His lower lip between his teeth, looking straight at his camera through the locks of his back hair. His mouth suddently fell open with a silent moan as his head fell backwards, letting you see his Adam’s Apple bobbing and the video ended.

Fuck, you were keeping those videos, for scientific reasons.

[00:18] junhui : are you touching yourself ?

Your finger started rubbing your clit, trying your best to reply, but you didn’t even know how, so you took another picture. Quickly opening the camera, you took another one in the same position, your hand clearly visible in the shot.

[00:18] you : sent a picture
[00:19] junhui : i knew it
[00:19] junhui : fuck, i wish you were here

And then, out of nowhere, your phone rang.

You didn’t hesitate long before you accepted the call, placing your phone on your pillow beside your head.

“Y/N.”, he breathed as your finger started to work faster.

“Jun.”, you wanted your voice to be as quiet as his, but it came out in a moan.

“Fuck, why did you have to stay home.”, he gasped, breathless.

“Why did you have to go to this party.”, you replied.

“Whatever, be fucking prepared when I come home.”, a broken moan fell from his lips as you cursed under your breath, your imagination running wild. You allowed a finger to enter your heat, your digit easily sliding in. You moaned, your other hand gripping your sheet.

“God, I couldn’t stop thinking about you in that dress.”, the sound of skin clapping grew quicker as he continued, “I wish I could feel your lips around me.”, he gasped, before continuing, “You’re going to let me fuck your mouth when I come home, won’t you ?”

You moaned, his words hitting your core, but he wasn’t having it, his cocky self coming back. “Words.”

You opened your mouth, breathing heavely before answering, “Yes.”

“Yeah.”, and he laughed out of pleasure, the sound ringing in your ears, adding another finger.

“I’ll make you feel so good.”, he purred, a long moan tumbling from his lips. “You’re touching yourself, right babygirl ? Fuck yourself with your fingers, curl them, imagine my fingers instand of yours.”, he rasped, clearly reaching his climax as he was finding it hard to talk.

And you did, curling your fingers and moving faster, picturing your best friend between your legs, your hips bucking against your hand.
Your moans grew higher, more and more frequent as you moved your hips.

“Are you gonna cum ?”, he asked, breathless, groaning as he tried to wait for you.

“Jun.”, you moaned, unable to give him an answer, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to explode.

“God, I can’t wait to be inside you.”, he cooed, a broken moan filling your ears. “Come for me.”

And that’s all you needed, moaned, your back arching, a clear layer of sweat near your collarbones. Collapsing, you tried to catch your breath, closing your eyes, trying to focus on what was going on on the other side.

A series of curse words mixed with your name tumbled from his lips, before he came on a long moan, gasping every now and then.

“Fuck, fuck.”, he cursed, trying to process everything, before letting a long sigh.

Both of you stayed silent for a moment, before Jun moved the phone, before speaking in a breathless voice.

“Wait for me, I’ll be here soon.”

“I deleted your number from my phone month and months ago so that I wouldn’t text you in the late night. I know you sleep well, and fully throughout the night, and you grew sad and distanced yourself each morning you woke to find my frustration, years too late. I unfriended you on Facebook because you liked all the posts I put up, the happy ones, the good ones, the fun ones. I trained my brain to forget your last name. I taught myself not to think of your eyes. Or the shape of your collar bones. I now can proudly say I don’t think of you late at night when I stare at the light coming in my bedroom windows.”

I’m trying to slow time, and stay still enough so that I don’t wreck anything. That I don’t turn any of the good let in my life into something negative. 

I’m writing everything down lately. Because I don’t trust my memory to catch all the good and bad. It’s like a recently mended net, about to test it’s new strength. 

I hate writing K’s and G’s in my handwriting. I like writing L’s and S’s. I bought a spray bottle at the dollar store and filled it up with water and eucalyptus essential oil. I’ve been burning lavender incense and spraying my pillows with the eucalyptus water. I’ve rearranged my bookcase, and listened to an old FM radio. I searched for a station that didn’t have commercials for about 20 mins. My internet had been down some 24 hours at that point and I just needed a little something in my ears.

I’ve been gone 11 days, and now my cats don’t leave me alone. They come, twirling and dancing between my feet as I walk around surveying this apartment I missed. Each tiny and large thing put in a place that feels right, at least for now.  

In college I would repaint my studio apartment’s walls in the middle of the night because I needed a bit of a change. I would rearrange pillows, shelves and furniture because it felt better thinking about how I’d never been kissed. How I’d never known the touch of a trusted lover. Now I do it because it feels good to seek and find solace and comfort here, away from the world outside. 

I’m not sorry that I’ve allowed certain men take root in my memories. Idaho with his grumbling, growling, and breathtaking smile, his declarations. Brown eyes with the way his mouth moved when he talked and his tattoos, and his love of achingly soft music. The midwest gent for his attentive nature, patience, and his stoicism. My southern best friend who made me laugh like no other, with goofy memorable moments of pride and care, his strength. My contractor ex, nationally ranked rugby boyfriend who lived in the Poconos and who made me feel delicate, womanly, but who trusted me with a hammer and power tools. The tall gangly boy who grew into a handsome man, one night to take my hand late at night in his sports car only to whispered beautiful words of praise besides a lake under the moonlight some miles later. 

But that’s because I sometimes forget the bad associated with each. Or the bad I brought to them. 

I’m sitting on the floor, my legs have fallen asleep and I know I should shed my clothes and crawl into my bed. I should make a list of all I want to accomplish tomorrow, and I should, I should, I should, I should. 

I think I’ll soak in the tub, or change my sheets and get into bed and play a song that starts slow and sad, but builds in my chest like road trip views where you get surprised by a great landscape after the same sad thing miles and miles. Just one more hill. Just one more hike, one more mile, until you’re closer. I’m closer.

Everyday, I am thankful for those who have loved me, and who have allowed me to love them, even if it wasn’t enough for either of us in the long run. Because I’m learning to love myself more, and more. Learning to call myself out on my bullshit. Learning that exciting things happen every day, that I can make exciting things happen, worthwhile things.  

That one day, doesn’t matter how soon, all these memories, all this growth will mean a more successful relationship with another extraordinary person. With my extraordinary person. Who will grow with me. That will take me as I am, a person capable of greatness, even if that greatness is just great according to each of us, and the small things I do to affect others positively. 

I just have to breathe in, make several small movements that turn into larger ones, exhale, then do it all over again.