time for a fresh start

seen from T1
seen from Türkiye
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland
seen from Singapore
seen from T1

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from T1

seen from Yemen

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from Singapore

seen from Germany
seen from Czechia
seen from Czechia
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Singapore
time for a fresh start
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alright, so a kink is defined as someone’s unusual sexual preference, and in aris’ opinion? that’s intimacy. as someone who’s well known for enjoying quick tumbles through the sheets with no strings attached, the idea of being truly soft and intimate with someone else can be as much as a turn on for him as some of his wildest nights in bed.
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tbh she’s really, really into rough housing/being dominated !! scratches, bruises, forceful grabbing, etc etc. it forces her to lose herself a little bit, when the guy is submissive and/or gentle she still has all the control, and who wants that a 100% of the time when they are getting railed ??
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i have no fucking clue whatyou are practicing, but nexttime ask me if i want all myhella fuckin’ cute pink clothing turned blue. —😺
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HOW’S THE FIRE BURNINGis today the day i finally touchyour tits, av
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♙ a kiss on a bruise
she shows up at his door, a mess of tangled red locks and tear rimmed eyes. her clothes are stained with dirt and other unnameable patches of disaster, and her feet, cut and bleeding are bare; toes curling almost ashamed into the bristles of his welcome mat. she’s the most unkempt he’s even seen her, the most dishevelled she’s ever shown herself, and yet, he can’t help the way his hands move, cupping her frozen cheeks to examine her even closer. she’s been hurt, and wounded beyond reason, and she’s still undeniably the most BEAUTIFUL thing he’s ever seen.
so many questions run through his head in the moment. why is she here, what happened, who did this to her, why is she HERE, with him of all people. so many unspoken words upon his lips—— and yet the only thing he offers is a welcome. he guides her inside, a hand at her back to make up for how delicate she appears in that moment. she’s always been something to be treasured, ever since childhood, but especially then, he feels like he needs to protect her from what unknown assailants have done this to her. he wants to chase them down, and return what pain they’ve given her two fold and beyond, but he knows that his place is at her side. he can’t leave her, not now, and so he stays.
sitting her down on his bed, whereas he should be calling hel or kostas or someone who knows what the fuck to do with a her wounds, he instead sits next to her, pulling her hands in his to examine the cold tips, the cuts down their lengths. he presses kisses upon them, feather soft and comforting, and when he finishes with the ten joints, he continues to her wrists. they’re discoloured blue and purple, stained darkness upon the pale of her soft skin. they don’t belong there, upon the purity of her body, and so he chases them away, kiss after kiss after kiss. up her arms and over shoulders, the last thing he remembers in the haze of their warmth is kisses upon her eyelids, her cheeks and temples next, and then finally a barely there kiss upon her lips. chaste and dry, and yet a wonder within his heart. there’s something extraordinary there, between the lull of time and touches between them, and even if it’s for a moment, he’d give anything to have it stay.