#jawkissed

malika: just driving until you don't feel like driving anymore.

brady: please don't be mad?

come @ me omg 

               In the midst of his home stretch at Stanford, Mason impatiently awaited the winter holidays. He didn’t hate school per say, no —- how could he, when he sat on top of the college food chain; a star athlete and a commendable student paired with his redeemable good-looks left Mason with his pick in campus pussy. College was his kingdom but every king needed a rightful break —- from the empty-headed sorority girls, the six am swim practices, and the endless midterms. He’s relieved when the sound of his alarm no longer harasses him to rise at ungodly hours. Breathing out a groan, he glances over at the clock sitting on bedside table. Well past noon, Mason can’t help but feel slightly accomplished — an early riser, he can’t remember the last time he’d lay s p r a w l e d in bed until well into the afternoon. The sun peeking through his blinds urges him to pull aside the disheveled sheets clinging to his robust thighs and moments later, he’s pulling himself to his feet, hazel hues glancing downwards at his bare but loudly grumbling torso. It doesn’t take Mason long to trudge his way through the house and into the kitchen. He’s sans shirt of course and sans pants, save the boxers that cling loosely onto his waist ( worn only for the sake of not scarring his parents or sister ) when he digits run through his bedraggled blond locks. Lips parting to let out a FATIGUED yawn, he pulls at the refrigerator door with ease, his sleepy hazel hues seeking out a carton of milk. Unbothered with the formalities of finding a glass, he brings the carton to his mouth, chugging sloppily, oblivious to the milk dribbling down his chin towards his bare chest.  

kvedvh thank you love !