oneshots (ongoing)

ˡᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ

(738)-838-0098
....

her.
no cause why you so good
that's suspicious

i don't know what it is but it's something about him. the way he sleeps it looks so boyish and uncomfortable that when he awakes he'll be sore but he looks so peaceful. one thing i have discovered are men happen to be very weird but so pretty with a childish heart or maybe just him in particular.

anyways i happen to fakely (i'm not sure that's even a word but it will be today) sleep the other day after gawking at him like always. as many times now i'm sure he notices i surely am faking but says nothing. why i have no clue but i'm thankfully he lets me gawk in peace.

but back to it i slickly "awoke" after he did but i didn't say anything i'm so weird when it comes to me being nervous even after seeing him in all types of ways i still am nervous and shy. he looked towards the bed and smiled i don't know why because when i wake up in the morning my bonnet looks crazy hanging and my face probably looks hideous but all he does is fix my bonnet and kiss my forehead before heading to the bathroom. to this day i'll never understand what that man means or what's his secrets.

i just know there's something there's always that one skeleton in the closet. he has to be some type of spy, a killer a mob boss or even a alien but it's something i just know it otherwise why is he so good and smooth as oil with his words and love.

i guess i could say i'm wary but it's reasonable of course.

i got out of bed to follow him as always. you could say i'm a bit obsessed but don't actually say that to me, that's rude. i slip on my robe and my fuzzy bedroom slippers near the bed while pulling my bonnet a bit down on my forehead it's a little big not going to lie you but he kisses it every morning so i don't care too much entirely.

i stood by the bathroom door as he brushed his teeth when he noticed me he stared at me through the mirror.

geez talk about my imagination i wish i could just spit it out sometimes and tell him what i want but it's like i have to be under a dickmatizing spell. instead i go to my side of  the bathroom and use my own sink.

i live in my mind literally and the way i zone out i don't understand he probably thinks i'm weird. but yes i zoned out but i know i'm sorry all these buts el oh el you get it butts he had a very nice butt actually and other things too. but back to the main topic zoning back in— why is he turning my way staring at me through my mirror i just can't i break eye contact of course and focus on my morning routine as i hear a chuckle. the nerve of him to be laughing at me but i guess it's sweet.

i hear the water running and then the shower head being on as the bathroom warms up.

i could feel him behind me before i looked up to see him. he a bit high, six inches and five feet tall and i'm only a mere five foot. i know not ideal weirdos wonder how we be sexy but i can't tell them that without being shy i barely say fuck to him why would i elaborate to them.

he literally whispers in my ear "if you wanted to fuck all you had to say was daddy please fuck me, and i'd bend you over and fuck you right here in front of this mirror". i bite my lip and try to pay him no mind gripping my facial rag. he doesn't let me focus of course. one of his fully decorated tattooed hands go to my neck while the other trails down undoing my robe and he puts a tattoo filled hand of bones, skeletons and butterflies with very small initials that happen to be mine, inside of my panties. call him the obsessed one but i have had a talk with my therapist about him they did say i was obsessed. heavily that i tuned them out just to think about the mysterious man. i can't help it, he consumes me.