one shots

what he was

he was from new york. . . harlem to be exact.

he was so full of soul, and even though he wasn't perfect, he was enough. he could pour his soul into me like orange juice, even though in the end, he weighed me down. he claimed to have a heart of concrete, and I guess whenever he poured his love into me, he was pouring in cement. I didn't mind the load though.

he sold drugs. he claimed to never fancy getting high; he preferred Hennessey to numb his pain. I knew he still smoked weed though. I'd smell it on his clothes as his lips melted onto my neck and his fingertips glided against my thighs like a buttered knife against bread.

he had a way with words. he wasn't necessarily much of a talker, but when he did, it always hit me like a ton of bricks. he was introspective, and what he saw in himself, he often saw in me too. that's what he liked about me. he called me his fun sized, fuckable mirror. (sure the "fuckable" part isn't that introspective or deep or impactful, but it always made me so hot that I melted.)

he lied a lot. he didn't know how to do anything else. . . except for when talking about matters of the heart and things that urged a sense of seriousness. Anything else, he'd deny and refute. Anything else was meniscule compared to serious shit and feelings. he knew that I'd see through his lies. he hated how transparent he appeared to me sometimes but he claimed that he wouldn't want to be a glass house for anyone else but me.

he was tall. . . like, 6'5. he could've played ball, if he wanted, but sometimes, things don't go as planned. I damn near had to climb him like a tree to get a kiss, but they were always worth the struggle. when he'd wrap my legs around him, i'd wrap my arms around him as well because I was so scared of heights. he'd chuckle and remind me, "i'm not gonna' drop you, shorty." I'd giggle before burying my face in the curve of his neck. Even when I got used to how tall I was with him between my thighs, I still held him close because that's where he belonged.

he was a good father. He spoiled his daughter, Kairi, and made it a point to teach her to love herself. I couldn't help but to respect him more. he poured his love into her like water to a plant, and although his love tends to weigh people down, he hopes that it'll keep his daughter grounded.

he's considerate. not a lot of guys will think about your feelings, but he does all the time. half of the stuff he stops himself from doing is because he knows I wouldn't approve. The other half may also be things I don't approve of (such as selling drugs and drinking a lot) but those are the only options he's known. I can't blame him for trying to survive.

he rarely smiled, but when he did, it was a sight that only a higher power could've concocted. He had long eyelashes too, which added a nice softness to his otherwise tough, thuggish appearance. He hated them, but I thought it made him look dreamy. If nothing else had me sold on him being a fine piece of art, it was those eyelashes that fluttered closed when I left kisses on his skin that did.

he made me laugh. he was a little weird too. I'd always catch him doing stuff like staring at me while I slept or talking about crazy shit in his sleep. he was entertaining without trying, and that made me fall deeper in love with him.

he knew just what to do to make me melt. my legs locking around him as we made love equated to having me wrapped around his finger, which was what he would practice as foreplay. He wore me as a ring as his teeth sunk into me as if he were checking to make sure I was real gold. though he wasn't much of a talker, he'd share his entire life with me in bed. all of the hardships he endured were conveyed through the gripping of my hips, the bites left along my neck and chest, anything that balanced my pleasure with a little pain. The temporary moments of happiness he'd felt washed over his eyes, leaving them twinkling in the dim light as he placed my legs over his shoulders. and the long periods of despair that shuddered through him as he fell from his peak, from being on top of the world.