I Gasped

I ❤️ Alexa Chung

Natalie Díaz, from "American Arithmetic", Postcolonial Love Poem

Miss you already.

my bf is literally on stage

wip...?

thinking many thoughts ab robert “bob” floyd

You felt his hand fall to your forearm as he turned you back to face him. He didn’t say anything as his gaze moved from your eyes to your lips and back. His silence continued as he leaned forward and connected your lips again. This time it was intentional, slow, and made butterflies creep up your stomach. He reached for you as you reciprocated the kiss. One hand in your hair, thumb resting on your cheek, the other searching for your waist. You held the front of his shirt, scared to let him go, and deepened the affair, sliding your tongue along his bottom lip. He gladly accepted and slowly yet fiercely slid his own into your mouth. The kiss continued and your hands slid along his front and ended in his hair, gripping. He released a quiet moan as you did and without breaking the kiss he stood from his own stool and trapped you against the bar. Your back dug into the bartop as you moaned back into his mouth and his hands slid down to your hips, squeezing. Had your phone not interrupted, you’re sure it would have continued to escalate that very night. He released you with a sigh, and you kept your eyes closed for just a moment longer. You slowly peeled them open and Bob groaned at the sensuality of it all. He huffed a small laugh and a blush covered his face as he scratched the back of his neck, perhaps in insecurity at his previous actions.

i ❤️ changing my icon

i feel like i'm wasting my life away. anyways.