Literally Obsessed With Her STOP

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.

my bad i’m ovulating

I'm like if a chivalrous knight kissed a fair maiden's hand and said "my lady, I fight for you" and then walked off and immediately tripped over his own armor and fell on the ground

i crave meaningful and honest conversations with people but now everyone’s so fucking dry. i can get someone not wanting to open up and i respect that, you don’t have to. but it genuinely does matter to me when people talk to me about literally anything, even if i just have to listen and nothing more, it means the world to me. talk to me about your day, or your hyper fixations, or your passions, your thoughts, feelings, anything.

me and somebody’s daughter

college in a nutshell....

#givememypaper #whywordwhy

yes i want to know your favourite color, how you like your coffee made, what music you like or what fictional character you like best. but let me ask you how do you want to be loved, if you think soulmates are real or should i just outwardly admit that i want to love you on purpose, what makes you you, what poem always brings you to tears. i want to know what love is to you so i can do just that and even more, i want to see you, inside and out, and i crave to be seen as well.

Here ya go sport, go wild

butches who like being called daddy go to heaven

thank you chappell