Concept: A Pretty Girl Sits On My Lap And We Kiss And Kiss And Kiss

oh to have a girl fall asleep on my chest while i play w her hair

I don't just want to hold your hand.

I want to hold your heart. To feel its rhythm sync with mine. To know that every beat is a promise, a whisper of forever.

Let me be your anchor in the storm, your shelter in the rain. Let me be the one who holds you, not just your hand.

At the Gates of Hell ~ Giacomo del Po; ca. 1703–08

lately i’ve just been yearning for something more.

i want a partner, someone to come home to and just exist with. waking up to the prettiest girl in the world, holding her, kissing her body, soft spoken words to gently wake her. morning snuggles with kisses exchanged, content sighs, groans of refusal to get out of bed and face the day. tempting her to get out of bed by promising a shower with more kisses to perk her up.

hot droplets of water running down our skin as we can’t stop touching each other, our mouths obsessed with each others as we waste a ton of water, our attention only on each other. soft touches, maybe helping each other get clean. holding her close, smiling into her skin as i kiss her shoulders, lathering up the soap on her body.

clad only in an old band t shirt of mine and boyshorts, she reads the news on her phone as i make her breakfast, serving it up on her plate with a kiss on her temple. she hums contentedly and tells me she loves me as she watches me take a sip of my orange juice before i toss a wink her way, followed by a smile that is reserved only for her. we exchange nonsense conversation over food, unable to stop touching each other. my fingertips brushing over her bare knee, her hand on my forearm tracing my tattoos, our fingers intertwined as our dog begs for scraps. she smiles at me with an eye-roll, turning her attention to him and talking to him as if he were a baby. i smile at her, feeling my love for her consume me even more than it has every day since i met her.

as i work, she sends me a mixture of texts, ranging from sweet to flirty to supportive. i drive home at the end of the day, exhausted and wanting nothing more to relax. i put my keys in my door and am greeted with the sight of my wife just existing in our living room. watching some trashy reality show, she turns at the sound of footsteps, standing up to greet me. her arms around me, her lips on mine, her perfume comforting me as i feel so warm inside. dinner is in the oven, i am being held by my favourite person and all is well.

settling down after food, deciding to snuggle in bed. she picks what we watch. a rom-com. i always hated rom-coms. till i met her. till i knew love was real. till i knew it was possible to be so consumed by a person you felt as though you would combust. pulling her closer, i kiss her shoulder, tell her i love her. tell her how much i live for the mundane days. that this is all i want. she is all i want.

laying in bed together all jokey and giggly and it leading to a heated make out session would fix me

my body may hate it but my self esteem LOVES my lip rings and gauges

I bet my body fucking hates it whenever I get a piercing. Poor thing is like HEY THERE'S A PUNCTURE WOUND. IN THE FACE. A FOREIGN OBJECT IN THE PUNCTURE WOUND. And I'm like oh yeah lmao I know, it's there on purpose. THE FUCK YOU MEAN IT'S THERE ON PURPOSE?? Yeah I got it put there on purpose, just heal around it. THE FUCK YOU MEAN IT'S THERE ON PURPOSE. WHY IS THERE A PUNCTURE WOUND WITH AN OBJECT IN IT. ON PURPOSE.

And I'm like chill, it's sterile, we're gonna clean it twice a day so it won't get infected. I DON'T FUCKING CARE THAT IT'S STERILE. And I'm like wow the fuck you mean you don't care? Do you want it to get infected?

YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD ALSO MAKE IT NOT GET INFECTED? NOT. HAVING. WOUNDS. WITH. FOREIGN. OBJECTS. IN THEM.

— Nikita Gill

me and who fr

loser boy butch x goddess femme

"Thoughts on women?" Yeah pretty much constantly