“I Don’t Want To Be A Burden” You’re More Like A Relief, A Gift, A Blessing Actually

I love a woman who listens, adjusts, and makes an effort to show her interest in you. It’s the sexiest thing

i really crave semi-sexual dominance so much :(

you pinning my hands above my head and kissing not my lips but my forehead. your fingers playing with my nipples when we’re cuddling only to shush me and stop when i get too whimpery. you bending me over the counter and pushing your bulge against my ass only to reach the top shelf. delivering one hard spank before you leave the room again. us making out against a wall until i’m panting and grinding against you, only for you to step away and smirk at how desperate i get for you. you using my instant submission as a quick ego boost for yourself whenever you feel like it. your hand squeezing my thigh just a bit too hard when we’re sitting at the table with friends.

soulmate (n.)

A person with whom you have an immediate connection the moment you meet – a connection so strong that you are drawn to them in a way you have never experienced before. As this connection develops over time, you experience a love so deep, strong and complex, that you begin to doubt that you have ever truly loved anyone prior. Your soulmate understands and connects with you in every way and on every level, which brings a sense of peace, calmness and happiness when you are around them. And when you are not around them, you are all that much more aware of the harshness of life, and how bonding with another person in this way is the most significant and satisfying thing you will experience in your lifetime. You are also all that much aware of the beauty in life, because you have been given a great gift and will always be thankful.

“I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. One where my heart is full. My body loved. And my soul understood.”

— Unknown (via pnko)

im sorry i moaned when you bit me.

do it again.

“can you take it?” 10/10

“you can take it.” 11/10

“fucking take it.” ♾️/10

The legacies people leave behind in you.

My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.

I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.

I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.

I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.

I learned to love books because my father loved them first.

How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.