Makarov coded Drabble time?
It’s clear that I love the idea of being rough, of being able to make someone feel the burning pain of something turn into a static pleasure that makes their mind feel thick in fog and making someone’s whole body tingle. A lust. A rough, all devouring love that sinks it’s teeth into someone like a rabid dog-
but sometimes there’s the soft blissful idea of taking a man and breaking him apart piece by piece with soft feather touches he’s not used to, he’s not built for, he’s not prepared for. Of making him gasp and go all limp and to let his tired mind rest and drift in half sleep while you take care of him in ways he didn’t think he needed, of making little tears slide down his face despite no pain being there for him to cry about. Of being alone in a room of soft silk and a warm bed with a man you utterly adore, simply watching as he goes soft and un-tense in your grasp, in utter silence or as he blabs
hhgfhfhfhfhf makarov coded