the intimacy of sharing old memories with someone new. check out the places i visited before i met you. i wish you were with me. maybe we can visit them together and create new memories? look at the pictures of the sky i took before we met. now you share the same view with my past self. look at the photos of my childhood and let me look at yours. have your facial features changed? your smile stayed the same, and i love it. look at my right cheek, i have the same birthmark as my grandmother. this is the child in me that you are healing with your affection. i am glad we met. all these years i was without you but now you know about all those years and even help me to grow. your love took roots in my past pain, and reaches out to my future happiness. please don't stop smiling.
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i think deciding to love someone continually is like reading the same book again, but each time finding a different line that hits deep and makes you think about something you didn't realize before. and you decide to read it again and again, knowing you'll never get enough of it, knowing you'll always find something new about them to love.
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i feel like art would have a babbling problem. like, he can’t stfu the closer he gets to cumming, so you have fun finding different ways to occupy his mouth while you suck him off or ride him. first instinct is sitting on his face or shoving your fingers in his mouth
// MDNI; art donaldson x reader
warnings; smut, oral (m receiving), praise, fluffy af ending, light dom/sub undertones, sub!art, art definitely has a praise kink i don’t make the rules 🫡
Art has always been loud— loud on the court, grunting and groaning as he plays, loud when he’s kissing you, breathy whines and gasps that you swallow greedily with your own mouth.
But most importantly, he’s loud in bed.
You always know when he’s about to cum; those corded thighs tighten around your head, back arching from the bed. His lips- rubied and swollen from your greedy mouth against his own- part around a moan, a drawn out whine, and an outright shout when your tongue laves across the tip of his weeping cock, drooling and flushed from your attention.
“Baby, baby, please,” he babbles. “Need it so bad. Gonna fuckin’ cum, please, baby.”
One of your manicured hands drags its way up his glistening chest, slick with sweat and littered with dark marks from your hungry teeth. He moans again, and you part his lips with a gentle thumb, pressing two digits flat against his tongue; he takes them greedily, suckling against the curve of your knuckles as you work him over with your other hand. You resist the urge to roll your eyes— always so obedient.
“Good boy,” you giggle. “Pretty baby.” He whines. You soothe him with a kiss to the tip of his cock.
His hips sporadically jerk as you seal your lips over him, sinking downward until the heavy length of him is settled snugly in your mouth. His chest stutters, a bare leg twining under your arm and round your waist until his heel presses into the base of your spine.
You know he’s cumming before he does.
His breath seizes, missing a beat. The muscles in his thighs tighten as he grinds further upwards into your warm mouth, and then he’s spilling into you with a sob.
His mouth is a wet throbbing around your knuckles, tips of your fingers still pressed to the dip of his tongue. You coast your thumb over the underside of his chin, pressing to the hollow of his throat— he preens under the attention.
“Shh, shh,” you coax. He bends at the waist, hooking a lithe hand under each of your armpits, and you’re dragged up and over his front until you’re nose to nose.
“Baby,” he sighs, nuzzling his cheek against your own. “Love you.”
“Love you too, pretty baby,” you coo. He’s almost limp underneath your weight, eyes half lidded and crinkling at the corners. “Can I have a kiss?”
He melts.
“You can have anything you want. C’mere.”
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