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Coming home to a woman that seeks to be in your arms, that loathes being away from you, that brings peace when the rest of the world is full of chaos,
Sometimes, a girl just wants to choke on a fat dick until she’s crying and gagging and told how pretty she looks with a dick in her mouth.
survive enough today so I can thrive tomorrow. I can cry later.
I guess I won’t be crying later. I’ll be crying now.
Good. I hope he fucking hurls as soon as he gets home. I hope he can’t sleep, and he tosses and turns and can’t eat. I hope his pillow is warm on both sides and they make his favorite book into a movie – not a series – and ruin it.
“I’m crazy, for sure, baby. But… I’m crazy for you. And only you. I’m near you and I need to be closer. I’m inside of you, and it’s not enough. When I’m away from you, I feel like I’m drowning. But then I see you again and I can finally breathe right. You have totally and completely consumed whatever sanity I had left, and I don’t ever want it back. You’re my heart, baby. Every beat of it is yours.”
Deadbeat moms exist as well. I should know.
That’s right, bitch. I am Maverick Harrington’s motherfucking girlfriend.
You look beautiful when you’re jealous, and no, I’ve never fucked her.”
His pause is nine months pregnant.
Home isn’t always a house. Sometimes it’s a person. Sometimes it’s a dysfunctional family that somehow makes it work because the love there makes it home.
And as we wait around, he steps closer to me, my back against his chest, arms around my waist, chin on my head, and it feels so good to be in his embrace. He lets out a soft contented sigh as if just holding me is all he needed to feel alright. And I feel that so deeply in my soul, I relax against him just a little more.
You have made me a better man, a better friend, and a better player by allowing me to be myself and simply loving me as I am. I adore you.”
I do miss him, and I do still love him… but I miss me more. I love me more. Maybe that’s selfish or brutal of me to even think… but sometimes holding on to someone just because they were in your past causes more damage than just letting go. I cast a glance at the boy that knew my deepest, darkest secrets and fears, held them close, never judging me for them, simply wanting us to succeed together.
“You once t-told me I w-would never love you mmm… more than you love me… B-but I’ve loved you… longer.”
don’t think I really knew that love could feel like this. Fucking divine and crazy and every emotion ever named. I want to fuck you, maim you, tear you apart… just to put you back together and then make you laugh when you don’t have the strength to smile.”
Whiskey eyes flutter open and when her gaze settles on mine she smiles, tucking the blanket under her chin adorably but shutting her eyes once more, throwing her thigh over mine and tucking her foot under my leg. My life. My love… Has the coldest fucking feet.
Where something like this should scare a sane woman, my sweet girl drapes her arms over my shoulders and kisses me,
I’m so fucking sick of the goddamn snow. I want rainy days with my girl. I want to have her in my lap reading while I watch TV. I want to swim naked in a pond while the raindrops make the water ripple against her skin
“I loved you longer…” That may very well be true… but I will love her harder.
she could borrow my eyes for ten minutes, she’d know how radiant I think she is.
if this is something she’s doing for herself, then I want to be a part of it, no matter how small. I don’t tell her she’s beautiful. It’s not what she wants to hear. I don’t tell her I already think she’s a knockout because my opinion doesn’t matter. Only hers.
