I need an older man.
Not one chasing youth,
but one whoâs already lived through fire
and learned how to control the burn.
A man who has seen chaos,
and learned to command it
until only his voice
can make the storm inside me obey.
I crave the kind of man
who doesnât ask permission to lead,
but earns it
with the weight of his gaze,
the certainty in his hands.
He doesnât have to raise his voice;
the silence between his words
is enough to make me tremble.
Heâll know exactly when to be gentle
and when to remind me who I belong to.
When to pull me close,
fingers pressing into my skin,
not to hurt,
but to claim.
A warning, a promise,
a quiet kind of power.
Heâll be sweet yes
the kind of sweet that lingers,
that soothes after it stings.
Heâll kiss my forehead
before he ruins my composure.
Heâll call me baby
in the same breath that makes me obey.
Because he knows
itâs not about control.
Itâs about trust.
I need a man who sees me
not as a conquest,
but as a mirror of his own fire.
Heâll let me challenge him,
let me push,
until he decides Iâve gone far enough.
Then heâll remind me,
with a look that pins me still,
that power shared
is power earned.
Heâll protect me like something sacred,
but touch me like something sinful.
Heâll make the darkness feel safe,
the danger feel like home.
Because in his arms,
Iâll forget the noise of the world,
and only hear the unspoken
the pulse between us,
the ache that doesnât ask to be understood,
only felt.
I donât need a boy who burns fast.
I need a man who burns deep.
One who can bruise my soul
with kindness and command,
who can hold my chaos
and never flinch.
Older. Darker. Certain.
The kind of man who could destroy me
but chooses, every night,
to keep me instead
If you are like this well then my dm´s are openâ¤ď¸