#but 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 to y’all

[m-robinavitch]

27 with Robby pretty please 🥺 I will give you my soul for this

Trope Tuesday Wednesday! Just finishing the asks that were sent yesterday because I did not expect that much love from y’all 💕😭

Pairing: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!Reader

Trope: Secret Baby

You never thought you’d see the handsome stranger that you hooked up with at your college roommate’s wedding ever again. You never imagined that he would ever be apart of your life after having what you consider the best sex and hook up of your life- but a hook up nonetheless.

You catch up with Samira here and there. You love hearing about her adventures as an ER doctor while you bore her with your job that doesn’t nearly have the same level of excitement- but she loves hearing from you. You were her roommate for four years in undergrad. You spent nights staying up cramming and watching those cheesy romcoms you love. Then she went to med school while you joined the working class. And when you got the invitation to her wedding you cried a bit. You were so happy for her- but weddings always make people think about their own pathetic lives. Just like Robby did. Watching Jack and Samira smile at each other while their said there vows. He couldn’t be happier for his best friend- but that ache in his heart never seemed to heal no matter what he did. And while Robby sat and nursed his second drink, he finally saw you walking up to him- tiny ache in his chest because nerves started to flutter about. He had seen you earlier- a glass of champagne and the same longing look he had towards the other couples on the dance floor, he thought you were beautiful.

“Mind if I sit? Feels a lot less lonely if you’re lonely with someone else.” Immediately he nods, pulling out the chair for you with a laugh-

“To being less lonely together?” Robby holds his tumbler out to you- letting you clink your champagne flute against it with a laugh and smile that he never wants to forget. You both ended up at your hotel room not even an hour later. Clothes being pulled and thrown around between hot desperate kisses. Robby had you under him for half the night and on top of him for the other half. Bent over the bed, bathroom counter, balcony. It’s no wonder those 5 home pregnancy tests lit up like fucking Christmas trees. At some point he must have fucked you so hard that it knocked your IUD out of place.

You didn’t tell anyone that your daughter was the product of a one night stand- that you only knew her father’s first name and that he was a doctor. It didn’t matter- not really. You loved her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you. You spent your pregnancy perfecting her nursery and working as much as you could to save money and days off for her. But as she grew- you kept staring into those big beautiful brown eyes that she only got from the man from the wedding, wondering if he’d love her as much as you did. You didn’t tell Samira that the baby she was cooing over on social media was conceived at her wedding- that she most likely knew the father. You forced yourself to not ask her about him- you figured it’s not fair to go this long and suddenly reach out or go around uprooting the man’s life over a one night stand.

But three years later you find yourself relocating to Pittsburgh with your toddler for work. You find yourself meeting Samira for coffee one afternoon with your daughter who has oddly familiar soft brown eyes and a crooked smile. She doesn’t ask about her father, she just sees how happy you both are. Your daughter is sweet and loves everyone- sitting in Samira’s lap playing with her teddy bear and messily eating a muffin while babbling to her new best friend. But a week later you find yourself at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital because your daughter was still a bit clumsy and fell at the playground.

You stood in line, your daughter crying in your arms while you tried to console her and it was like Robby had forgot how to breathe. He walked to the nurses station to see how they were doing up there and immediately he saw you- immediately felt the same tightness in his chest like when he first saw you almost three years ago. Only you had a child in your arms this time, crying and clinging to you- a missed opportunity on his part. Whoever you had waiting for you both at home was a lucky bastard. His voice was like ice down your back because you can remember and feel every word that he had whispered in your ear years ago.

Robby immediately got you both to a bed- calming your worries and saying it’s fine as he put gloves on. Your daughter hid in your neck- crying slowed to a whine but still refusing to sit on the bed no matter what. You explain to Robby that she tripped and bumped her head at the park- a little clumsy still and you offhandedly say that she gets it from you. He smiles a bit- because he remembers how you stumbled in your heels years ago when you dragged him up to your hotel room. But he smiles, rolling the chair over to you both and trying to make himself as small as possible to not scare your toddler. You don’t know if you should bring it up now- that Robby is about to work on his own child but you figure you should let him focus on her first before you ruin his life.

“Hey sweetheart, I’m Dr. Robby-“ you turn a bit to face your daughter to him, smiling when he ducks his head down and tilts it so she can see him, “mommy said you hurt yourself?” She whimpered, nodding and choking you with her tiny strong arms while her hands clutched her teddy bear. “I like your bear, can I see him?” You melted at how gentle he was- at how his voice was soothing and how his eyes softened when she turned and held her bear out to him. As if he was dealing with glass- Robby took her bear, a gift from Samira when she was born. “Can you show me where you got hurt on your teddy bear?” It was like she was drawn to him now, peeking out from your neck and pointing to the side of her bear’s head. Robby obviously figured from the tiny about of blood that matted her hair- but he just wanted to make her comfortable. To put her at ease and almost instantly she reached for him so he could sit her on the bed and he can examine her.

He asked routine questions, taking note of your lack of ring but then chastised himself for even looking. You had a daughter- you clearly had someone in your life. He must have missed a narrow window of opportunity because she was still young, about the same age as the years it’s been since you first met and-

“When was she born?” Fuck.

[xoxosierralane]

| ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴ |

✎ from sierra: hii sweets, i know this is a little late lol.. but home love island they stressing me tf out (if u watch ttm!!). But anyways this is really just an opening to this little series yum still working on, if you guys like this enough i will definitely keep continuing. Also if you wanna be on the tab list just lmk and i got you !

✎ synopsis: Azzi Fudd didn’t plan to see Paige Bueckers again. She didn’t plan to feel anything either—not the nostalgia, not the anger, and definitely not the ache in her chest. But when the past walks back into the same room—wearing a ring and someone else’s name—plans don’t really stand a chance. Some people move on. Some people move home. And some people… never stop wondering what if. This wasn’t the plan. But when has anything ever gone according to plan?

✎ taglist: @asapeveryday @thaatdigitaldiary

Azzi Fudd—that’s me.

Or at least, it’s the name they put on magazine covers, Instagram tags, and those weird commercials for skincare products where I smile like there’s no tomorrow.

Nothing real. Nothing close to the truth.

Because if you’d looked harder, you’d see the silence beneath the noise.

The way I disappeared.

The half-smile that never quite made it past my lips.

Leaving? That was the easy part.

Coming back? That’s the one that really hits.

—

Airports and I have an understanding: I hate them.

They smell like fake soap and stress you can’t avoid, and this one was no exception.

Hoodie pulled halfway up, suitcase dragging behind like it owed me money. Not really rushing. At least not anymore.

Today wasn’t another gig, another brand deal, another event I was supposed to pretend I cared about.

I was just… back. Washington.

For better. Or worse.

My phone buzzed nonstop the minute I landed. I didn’t even need to look.

I knew it was Aaliyah, she’s been texting me more and more ever since I told her I would be coming back home.

lili 💕 (12:11 PM): did you land???

lili 💕 (12:12 PM): how was the flight

lili 💕 (12:13 PM): DID YOU BRING ME ANYTHING

lili 💕 (12:14 PM): azzi jazlyn mf fudd.

lili 💕 (12:14 PM): why do you hate me??

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Some things don’t change.

(12:15 PM): oh please

(12:15 PM): the government is crazy and foul lili

(12:15 PM): also pls stop texting 4 times in 2 minutes

lili 💕 (12:16 PM): sue me???

lili 💕 (12:16 PM): i’m hungry we’re getting lunch together!

(12:16 PM): bold of you to think i haven’t eaten since yesterday

lili 💕 (12:16 PM): what’s wrong w u

(12:16 PM): next question

(12:17 PM): calling a cab, try not to rush me i WILL stay home.

Acting calm was the plan. But inside, I was losing it.

I hadn’t had something to look forward to in months. Maybe years.

Cold hit my face stepping outside like it was punching a bag labeled Azzi Fudd.

Welcome back, Washington. (kill me.)

My career? Thriving in its own weird way.

Modeling worked out better than basketball ever did.

People still recognized me. “Oh, you’re the one who hates Gatorade.”

Yeah. I hate it. Passionately. Coconut water overrules easily.

But me? I was a mess.

Emotionally? A bigger mess.

Romantically? Don’t even ask.

The divorce was quiet.

Just a handful of people knew about the year I spent undoing the damage he did—his insecurities, his control, the noise that wasn’t love.

And now? He was gone, I thank the man above.

lili 💕 (12:19): i have news IMPORTANT news which you need to hurry your ass here for :)

(12:25 PM): on my way. what’s the tea?

aaliyah (12:25 PM): not telling. but it’s good. you might even scream.

(12:26 PM): better not be no new gatorade flavor you’re excited about

aaliyah (12:27 PM): you’re dramatic

(12:30 PM): literally poison, y’all sick

I dropped my phone on my lap and leaned back.

This place wasn’t home anymore.

But at least I didn’t have to pretend today.

Soon, overpriced brunch with the one person who made me feel okay when nothing else did.

I didn’t know it yet, but this was the beginning.

Not perfect. Not easy.

But real.

The cab was quiet—the kind of quiet I liked.

Tipped the driver like I was throwing cash at my anxiety.

Brain fueled by airplane snacks and two hours of sleep.

Pulling up to my mom’s place felt like rewinding a VHS.

Same cracked driveway with the basketball court. Same faded welcome mat yelling Come in and stay awhile.

Key under the mat (because yes, mom still did that), and there she was—Katie, scrubbing dishes like I hadn’t just flown cross-country, like none of the last few years even happened.

“Az!”

Her voice was warm, like a hug you never wanted to let go of.

She hugged me tight. I hugged back harder than I meant to. Missed this. Wouldn’t say it.

“I thought you landed at three,” Mom said, studying my face. “You look tired. Hungry?”

I was about to lie.

Then Dad’s voice came from down the hall.

“Who’s that? My superstar?”

Tim grinned like he always did, like he had no clue.

I laughed. “Hi, Dad.”

“How’s LA? How’s Jackson? He with you?”

Damn it dad really?

“Dad. We’re divorced. Remember?”

His smile slipped like he was caught in a sitcom dad moment.

“Oh—right. You told us. Or—after?”

I gave him a look.

He scratched his neck. “Aaliyah said something first. Figured I’d wait for you to say it official—”

Mom smacked his arm with a towel. “You weren’t supposed to say that.”

I shook my head, heading for the door. “Y’all are unbelievable.”

“Y’know we just love you!” Mom called after me.

“Uh huh sure.”

“Where you headed?” Dad asked, disappearing into the pantry.

“Lunch.”

“Oh, you and Paige catching up already?”

I froze.

Not dramatic. Just paused. Like my brain short-circuited and rebooted.

Paige. That name. I hadn’t heard it in months. Maybe years.

I looked back slow. “Paige?”

Mom nodded, sipping coffee. “Yeah. She moved back after you left. You didn’t know?”

“Mm mm.” I shook my head.

Suddenly I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Or my brain.

Paige was back.

She was here.

Why wouldn’t the universe wait for me to be freshly divorced, scrambled, unprepared?

Mom tilted her head. “I thought you two were still close after everything. Best friends don’t just stop talking.”

I was about to say something when—

Honk.

A loud, dramatic honk from outside.

I moved to the window, already knowing what I’d see.

Aaliyah, sunglasses on, head out the window like she was about to start a protest.

“AZZI. DO YOU NOT CHECK YOUR PHONE?! LET’S GO!”

I didn’t say anything to the crazy canadian. Just looked at my parents, waved like everything was normal, and booked it out the door.

Aaliyah stared like I owed her rent once I got in the car.

“Do you have government-level Do Not Disturb or something? I’ve been waiting ten minutes. This is disrespectful.”

I laughed. “Hi to you too.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I missed you.”

“Drive.”

She did.

I didn’t say anything about Paige. Not yet.

Some things you don’t unpack in the car.

But I felt it. The knot in my stomach.

The one that only shows up with that name.

Aaliyah drives like her life depends on it, even when it doesn’t. One hand on the wheel, one scrolling Spotify, acting like she didn’t just honk up a storm.

“You want music or no?”

“Your call. But no moody playlist.”

“It’s actually good.”

“Depression.”

“You literally just got divorced.”

“Woww really?”

“I missed you. What do you want me to say?”

“Something nice?”

“Your hair looks good.”

I ran my hand through my curls, smirking. “Thanks.”

“Better than when you were with what’s-his-face.”

“Jackson.”

“Right. The walking dry erase board.”

I laughed. “You’re mean.”

“Honest.”

“He looked like he called his mom before every decision.”

“You hated him from day one.”

“You fumbled your twenties.”

I laughed again. Felt good. Like exhaling after holding your breath too long. “Enough about my tragic past. What about you and Prince Charming?”

“Don’t call him that.”

“You called him ‘God’s apology for your exes’ last time.”

“Okay, true. But now he’s into Formula 1 and thinks he’s a pro driver.”

“Real love.”

“Shut up. Anyway, this is about you. Your ‘starting over’ era.”

“Enough.”

“Girl you modeled for Vogue.”

“Digital Vogue.”

“Still Vogue.”

I stared out the window. City the same but not. Or maybe I was. My timeline never matched everyone else’s. Basketball didn’t go like Paige’s or the others’. It stings.

“I feel behind.”

“Behind what?”

“Everyone. Everything. Like I’m still figuring it out.”

“The finish line’s fake. Nobody’s really ‘there.’ They’re just pretending better.” I smiled. Sounds like something mom or Paige might’ve said before everything changed. “This got deep.”

“Restart. Tell me something dumb.”

“I still hate Gatorade. Whole chest hate.”

“You’re the only basketball player ever who says that.”

“I’m not a player anymore.”

“Still hoop in your sleep.”

“Trauma.”

“Okay Dr. Phil, relax.”

We laughed. The silence between felt like understanding. Aaliyah pulled up to the cafe more aggressively than needed.

“I’ve been holding this in for days.”

“Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“That face where you pretend not to care but don’t blink for three minutes.”

I threw the door open.

“No idea what you mean.”

“You’re doing it right now.”

I shrugged. “Spill.”

We sat barely ten minutes before I started bouncing my leg. “Spill. You’ve been dying to tell me since yesterday. She sipped water. “Let’s ease into it?”

“No. Sun’s out. You’re suspicious. Spill.” She groaned. “Why do you always bully me?”

“Because you have a big mouth until it matters.” She smiled nervously. “Okay. I’m engaged.”

I gasped loud. Old couple nearby flinched.

“Shut up. Lying.”

“Nope.”

“Shut up!”

“Stop yelling.”

“Will not! You’re engaged??”

“Yes.”

I grabbed her hand. “Where’s the ring? How? When? Who?” She blushed. “Boat ride. Cheesy. Sweet. I cried a lot.”

I sat back clutching my chest. “This is so cute. I’m so happy for you lili.”

Then she muttered something.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Aaliyah.”

“I’m doing a double engagement party…with Paige.”

I blinked. “With who?”

“Paige. She’s engaged too. And her fiancé is kind of cool.”

My brain blue-screened. Hands dropped.

“You’re joking.”

“No.”

“To Paige Bueckers.”

“Yes.”

Jaw open. “You knew she was here? Engaged? And you dropped this mid-convo like it was nothing?”

“I thought it’d be fine.”

“Aaliyah.”

“Okay, yes, I screwed up. Don’t kill me, but you guys can’t avoid each other forever Az.” She said with her fake sappy face. “I’m not avoiding anything okay?” I said knowing damn well.

I dropped my face in my hands. “Need a drink.”

“It’s noon.”

“Exactly.”

“You were actually exciting to see.”

“I am.”

She smiled nervous. “If it makes you feel better—”

“Don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I mean—ugh. Double engagement party?”

“Not planned that way!”

I looked up at the ceiling. “Did you ask how I’d feel being in the same room as Paige Bueckers and her fiancé?”

She winced. “No.”

“Oh great. Reassuring.”

Silent clinking. My mind racing.

“She’s not supposed to be here.”

“Where?���

“In Washington.”

“She grew up here too.”

“Okay, like six years.”

“You don’t own the city.”

“I’m just saying. She left, I left. I thought—”

“You thought you could pretend she didn’t exist?”

I said nothing. Jaw clenched.

“She’s not Voldemort.”

“Shut up.”

“You gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t seen her, but I already feel hit by a bus.”

“It’s okay if you cancel. Don’t come.”

“Miss your party? I’m petty not heartless.”

She smiled. “That’s my girl.”

“But if she looks at me like I’m that same girl from college—”

“You’ll what?”

“Probably cry. on my fifth glass of champagne.”

She snorted. “So dramatic.”

“Says the girl who fake-passed out so a guy wouldn’t break up with her.”

“Bought me three more days.”

I laughed, tired but real. Looked out at the cloudy sky. People walking by. Couples holding hands. Dogs in sweaters. Phone-yelling men.

The world spins. Doesn’t care who’s married, heartbroken, or pretending not to be wrecked by a name no one says out loud.

“You think she’ll actually show with her?”

Aaliyah paused. “It’s her party too. But Paige is Paige.”

I nodded. True.

Silence thick. Not awkward. Just heavy. I pulled out my phone. She peeked.

“Who ya texting there?” Jeez ms nosy.

“No one.”

I lied.

Almost typed Paige’s name.

Almost sent a text.

But didn’t.

Not yet. Maybe never.

Smiled at Aaliyah. “Dessert?”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “You’re taking this better than I thought.” I shrugged. “Growth.”

But my mind spun fast—dangerously—whenever Paige Bueckers was involved. Because I’m good at hiding. Too good. Hiding cracks in my marriage. Bruises from love that wasn’t love. Late at night, I still dream in jump shots, gold medals, blonde ponytails, and what-if.

Years of practice folding feelings into sharp-edged smiles. Yeah, I looked fine. If Aaliyah could see inside, she’d cancel the party.

Instead, I speared a piece of cheesecake. Ate it like I wasn’t thinking about the last time Paige hugged me.

Smelled like spearmint and stress and something I can’t name. “Mmm. You’re paying.”

She side-eyed me. “Emotional blackmail. Toxic.”

I smiled. Dimples and all. “Learned from the best.” Outside, rain finally picked a side. Soft and quiet. The kind that makes you remember.

I didn’t look out the window again.

I didn’t have to.

The past was already here.

And oh boy was I not ready to go back.

——

Most people think heartbreak is loud.

That it kicks down the door and wrecks everything in its path. That it screams. Demands. Destroys.

But sometimes it’s quiet.

Sometimes it waits.

Lurks in the corners of your good days, and whispers on the bad ones. Like the song you swore you deleted. Like the sweatshirt you still sleep in. Like a name that still makes your chest pull in strange directions.

Paige Bueckers is in love.

That’s what she tells herself every morning, brushing her teeth in a bathroom she shares with the woman she’s going to marry.

That’s what she tells Taryn, when they hold hands across the table, planning wedding playlists and reception seating like none of it feels like choreography.

That’s what she tells Aaliyah. When she’s brave enough to ask.

And maybe she is.

Maybe this is love.

Not the kind that explodes.

But the kind that folds your laundry. Buys oat milk. Remembers your mom’s birthday.

Love with clean lines and good lighting.

But sometimes, when the world goes quiet—

She still thinks about her.

Azzi.

She’s not supposed to.

It’s been years. People move on. People grow. People change. But memory doesn’t care about growth.

Memory’s a cruel little thing.

It brings her back anyway.

And sometimes, that’s worse than forgetting.

———

The morning starts like most do.

Paige wakes up to the smell of eggs she always asks for the night before and a Spotify playlist that sounds like it’s personally attacking her sleep schedule.

Taryn’s singing. Loud. Enthusiastic. Completely off-key. It’s 8:52 a.m. and already the kitchen is full of syrup and sunshine.

And love.

Real love.

So Paige gets up. Smiles. Stretches like everything in her body and head isn’t heavy. She grabs the hoodie off the chair—Taryn’s favorite one to steal—and pads into the kitchen barefoot.

“You’re awake!” Taryn beams. She’s flipping pancakes with way too much joy for someone who worked a night shift. “You ruined the breakfast-in-bed surprise. Rude.”

Paige kisses her cheek. “M’bad. Smelled the cinnamon, had to come .”

Taryn laughs. “I gotta keep my fiancée on her toes.”

Paige smiles again. It almost reaches her eyes.

She should feel full. Loved. Settled.

But there’s a flicker.

A familiar static in the back of her head.

Azzi.

Still there.

Even now.

Even here.

Paige takes a bite of pancake. Nods like it tastes perfect. Doesn’t mention how it sticks to her throat. She pretends she doesn’t notice the ring on her finger feels tighter today.

———

Earlier today

The message comes at 9:42 a.m.

Right as Paige is rinsing out a protein shake she didn’t finish.

aaliyah (9:42 AM): btw. azzi’s in town. like. now.

also. don’t freak out

also. don’t throw up

also. don’t be weird at the party ! bye!

The phone doesn’t vibrate again. It doesn’t need to. Paige just stares. Until the screen fades to black. Then flips it face down like it burned her.

Azzi.

Back.

Here.

Now.

Washington was supposed to be safe. This city was supposed to be after. Not again.

Her hands are wet from the sink. But they’re shaking, so she blames the water. She continues her day folding laundry. Answering emails. Working out and overthinking. Halfway through, she realizes she’s folding that hoodie again.

The one Azzi used to steal.

The one Azzi wore the night they said too much and not enough. Taryn walks in, gym bag slung over her shoulder.

“You good?” she asks. Paige doesn’t flinch. Too well-practiced. “Yeah. Just… thinking.” Taryn raises an eyebrow. “Scary.”

“Shut up.”

Taryn kisses her forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She means it. She does.

But her chest stays quiet.

The rest of the day is a blur.

Paige doesn’t cry. She doesn’t fall apart. She’s grown. She’s evolved. She makes slushies and answers calls. But her brain keeps looping back.

To Azzi’s laugh in the tunnel before games.

To the way she said Paige’s name when no one was listening.

To that fight. That ending. That almost.

She opens Instagram.

Azzi’s profile is now public after having her blocked every other month.

Paige scrolls.

Just once.

Just enough to see that smile. The effortless one that used to be hers to witness.

She closes the app. Opens it again five minutes later.

She types out a message.

Deletes it.

Types it again.

Closes her phone like it said something unforgivable.

She throws it onto the couch.

Watches it bounce.

Tells herself she’s fine.

Tells herself she’s over it.

Tells herself she’s happy.

Tells herself she’s in love.

Repeats it until it sounds like static.

———

There’s a pair of sneakers in the back of her closet.

White with gold trim.

Barely worn.

Azzi once said they were her favorite.

Paige almost donates them every year.

But they’re still there.

Still clean.

Still hers.

Like a maybe she never let go of.

Like a version of herself she keeps buried under meal prep and wedding plans. Somewhere across the city, Azzi is back. And Paige is pretending her whole body didn’t react to that message like it was a live wire.

She sits on the couch. Legs folded. Hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands.

She thinks about texting her again.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she whispers her name into an empty room like it might echo.

“Azzi.”

She says it soft. Like an apology. Like a prayer.

Like she’s still in love with a memory.

Like she doesn’t know what she’s doing anymore.

Because maybe love isn’t loud.

Maybe it’s quiet.

Maybe it’s the part of you that never really left.

Even when you swore you moved on.

Paige Bueckers is in love.

She just doesn’t know who with.

Not anymore.

[eggseabutters]

✨Hello! This is my goodbye event! ✨

This year im finally going to college!Unfortunately because it’s in another state I’ll have to quit drawing for a while, which is why I decided to make this event for y’all! Because I luv you guys 🫶💕

Instructions below👇

[amy-thystt]

!! $5 sketch commissions !!

hi folks!! sorry for my absence here lately; june was rough on both my mental health and my wallet :’) after several bills and having to buy a new AC so me and my bird don’t cook this summer, i’m a little short on rent this month. so i thought i’d try out some small sketch commissions!! commissions are currently open here over on my ko-fi!!

please take a look at the guidelines over there, but as a general overview i’m taking requests for jynmelshian, melshian, and rebelcaptain, and if you have an idea that involves k2 i’m happy to draw him as well 💖 no nsfw at the moment but obviously kisses and cuddles are very welcome 💕 sketches are $5/pay what you want!

thank you so much for your support y’all!! 🫂

[gurugirl]

Wow, thank you hon 🤭

This chapter will also bring up that contrast (from how he was at first to how he is now). She’ll bring up the way he treated her and they’ll talk about all that before they start getting naked. I really hope you like what I do with chapter 6 🥹 and I also hope I get it done quickly so y’all can enjoy it 💕🥰

Xoxo

mean king sneaky

1.5k word mean king!harry chapter 6 sneak peek.

enjoy!

.

When she sighed into the kiss, he took it as permission, slipping a hand to the curve of her waist, guiding her closer. Her thigh brushed his, and he felt the hitch in her breath at the contact.

“You needn’t be afraid,” he whispered, brushing his nose against hers as he broke the kiss only long enough to see her eyes. “We shall take our time.”

“I’m not afraid of the kiss,” she said. “Only the bit that comes next.”

He smiled. “We'll only get to that bit when you're ready. And when you are, I'll make certain you find it as sweet as you need.”

He kissed her again, deeper. His hand slipped behind her, tracing the gentle arch of her back, encouraging her to lean into him. And she did, cautiously at first, until her chest pressed to his, and her hands clutched his arms for balance.

She could feel the heat of him through her thin chemise, the strength of him, solid and broad, yet somehow still tender. His touch remained patient, adoring, but each movement was deliberate, as though mapping her with his fingers and lips.

She startled a little when his palm swept over her hip and down to the back of her thigh. He paused, pulling back just enough to look her over. He needed to calm himself before he wound up devouring every inch of her like he wanted. Looking at her face, he saw only a beautiful woman, clinging to him, wanting… But he had to keep gentle with her. For now.

“Is this too much?”

She shook her head quickly. “No. I'm trying to settle myself.”

“Shall we stop?”

“No,” she whispered, her cheeks blooming with heat. “Please don’t stop.”

His eyes darkened, and he leaned in again, placing a kiss beneath her ear. “As you wish.”

He'd imagined the filthiest things with her earlier in the day. Stroked his cock to an image he'd conjured of her, spread out on his velvet blanket, hips jerking and writhing for him as he teased her slowly. He'd released the moment he imagined himself within her. He couldn't even begin to know how soft and wet she'd be, how she'd feel encasing him…

With great care, he guided her onto her back along the divan, the velvet cushions yielding beneath her. He followed, half atop her, propped on one elbow so as not to press his full weight against her. His other hand drifted slowly along the line of her hip, then upward, tracing the side of her ribcage through the soft fabric of her shift.

She arched faintly beneath him, startled by her body’s yearning. It was automatic. His mouth never left her skin. He kissed the slope of her neck, the hollow of her throat, the edge of her collarbone as she moaned quietly.

Her fingers found their way into his curls, tugging gently as he grazed the peak of her breast with the back of his hand. Even that small contact had her gasping, her legs shifting restlessly beneath her.

“Already trembling,” he said, his breath jagged. “You are so sensitive, little mouse."

“I feel it,” she whispered. “It's...” she trailed off, unable to finish any thoughts she had conjured.

He chuckled low against her chest, nose swiping against the material that clung to her bosom. “It's natural to feel it. You're so good… perfect," his words were mumbled against the material. "I, too, feel it. It's in my bones…" He dotted kisses softly over her chemise. "… it's in my chest. And we’ve scarcely begun.”

He brought his mouth upward to hers again, his tongue brushing her lips in a way that made her back arch and her thighs clench beneath her clothing. She slowly poked her tongue out to feel his lips and then his tongue, and then the rattle of the moan that he pushed from his mouth into hers.

Between the steady flicker of firelight and the warmth of his hands, Y/n could no longer recall what fear had once lived in her. He made her forget everything but his breath, his touch, the way his voice dropped when he praised her.

She could feel the hard ridge of him against her hip, unmistakable even through layers of linen and cotton. The knowledge of it made her dizzy.

“Let me unlace this,” he murmured, tugging gently at the top of her chemise. “You are far too beautiful to be hidden behind cloth.”

She nodded, lifting her arms for him to assist. He had tried to hold himself back and not rush, but she was so pliant, so open already. Her panted breaths and gasps, the way she scratched at his scalp and kissed him with her wet tongue… the way she rocked up against him. All invitations.

And when the garment came loose, baring her to the warm air and his hungry eyes, the king did not reach for her as some men might have, greedy and rough. He merely looked. Admired. Swallowed hard as if astonished.

He wanted to touch. Wanted to grab her flesh and squeeze at every inch of her that was laid before him. Wanted to dig his fingers into her hips and breasts and spread her thighs open so he could look upon all of her.

“God help me,” he said softly, his voice nearly breaking. “You’re exquisite.”

He wasn't a man who believed in God. But right then, he could kneel in surrender to any deity who had brought her to him. He wanted to nose at her opening, to pry her apart and watch her face as he plunged into her depths.

She reached for him then, bolder than she’d ever been before, and pulled him down into her embrace, and perhaps for a break in the way his eyes were wandering over her peaked breasts and the stretch of her body where his fingers had once touched. She'd never been gazed upon like that before.

His mouth met hers again, slow and indulgent. He kissed her not as a king, but as a starving man at last allowed to feast. Her arms wrapped round his neck, drawing him nearer as his hand roamed down the soft plane of her side, over the tender rise of her hip. His palm, wide and warm, settled low, gripping just above her bottom as he deepened their kiss. She whimpered into his mouth, fingers slipping into his curls again, pulling at them with a desperation she scarcely understood.

Harry shifted atop her, careful not to rest too heavily on her frame, but eager for more of her body pressed against his. Her bare breasts, rising and falling in uneven rhythm, brushed against the linen of his shirt. The sensation tore another moan from her throat.

“There now,” he said between kisses. “D’you feel it, little mouse? What you’ve done to me?”

He took her hand and guided it downward, resting her palm over the thick, straining shape beneath his breeches. She gasped softly, her eyes wide, her breath caught in her throat.

He closed his hand over hers, encouraging her to press gently.

“That is what your sighs have made of me,” he whispered. “A beast of a man, barely leashed.”

Her skin burned hot. Still, she did not pull her hand away as she looked into his eyes.

“It feels so…” she trailed off, lashes fluttering as she dared another tentative touch.

“So alive?” he offered, his voice dark with pleasure.

She nodded, lips parted. “Yes.”

He smiled, then kissed her again, hungrier, less restrained. His hands returned to her body, roaming more freely. He cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over the pebbled peak, drawing a startled sound from her mouth. Her hips lifted slightly off the divan in response, instinctive and needy.

“May I touch you lower?” he asked against her neck, his breath scorching. “Properly?”

She hesitated, not out of fear, but from sheer wonder at the question. That he would ask at all. That he would wait. That a man known to be cruel in court would kiss her so sweetly and speak to her as though she were sacred.

“Yes,” she said, her voice small but clear. “Please.”

His fingers dipped downward, over the warm skin of her abdomen. She squirmed at the sensation, but he hushed her with a kiss to her cheek, trailing his mouth to her temple, her hairline, her ear.

When his hand finally slipped between her thighs, she gasped, her knees parting slightly of their own accord. He grazed her lightly at first with just a brush of knuckles over the soft curls between her legs.

“You’re already damp for me,” he whispered, sounding almost pained. “Oh, my love…”

Her heart was nearly bursting. She arched into him at the sound of that word.

Love.

Whether he meant it or not, it echoed through her like the strike of a bell.

.

mean king!harry tags: @matildasatellite @stylesftcher @hinnyrx @eversincehs1 @sunshinemoonsposts

@archerxnn @daphnesutton @spinninc @haliastyless @multiplefandomstan

@bruhk @sassamanda77 @cherryshouse @montgomery-929496 @cherriesncupcakes

@practistyles @matildalittlefreak @imaginexxharry @oifukinloser @hoolabalooba

@jaebeomsblackgf @wildcstdrexms @gilwm @rimaruu

[taktitty]

Something something they are on a road trip

[crazymecjc]

always the pawn in someone else’s game. ♟️

[thejolteonmastertj]

Person in the LU fandom: Oh noo I hope Jojo never sees my work cuz I’m definitely getting all her characters wrong ;_; It’s all so cringe, I’ve probably babified Wild & bastardized Legend for sure. 😅

Literally Jojo herself back when she interacted with everything: D’aaaw I love this fic it’s like you’ve read my WIP files! Here I’ll share one of them where Wild’s cuddling Wolfie after a nightmare a bit early for you .💕 Hmm ok now today I think I’ll doodle Legend’s snarky face & for funzies he’ll be saying “I say we let the fool die” 🤭 Drawing him is so much fun! ✨

[uhohdad]

Would you ever write anything with a plus size reader? Maybe she’s (or they, can be gn idc!) really insecure but they hide it behind jokes and Konig sees right through it because he does the same

Cut to him always giving them compliments and making sure they stay fed and throwing them over his shoulder like they weigh nothing (usually in front of people cause he likes to embarrass and humiliate reader cause he is still kinda a jerk /affectionate/)

Can be nsfw or whatever you want, I’m not good at plot lol so Idk I just need him to treat me like I’m a teeny lil thing (cause let’s be real he really is a mountain lol)

König x PlusSized!Reader

───♡──────────

He’s getting tired of this nasty habit, liebling.

Everyday before your shower, you’ll stand in the mirror, honing in on that gorgeous, perfect body, digging for any little thing to critique.

“You better be thinking nice thoughts in there, little one.”

You just let out a groan, too far sunk into the spiral of self-hatred to claw yourself back out.

König rises from his spot on the bed a greets you with disapproving, half-lidded eyes in the mirror.

“What is it this time?”

“Tummy. Thighs. Chest.”

“Ach, you mean the best parts?”

You answer with an annoyed hum.

Konig will place his big, sturdy hands on your bare hips from behind, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder.

The gentle peck distracts you from the strong arms scooping you up, a squeak leaving you as he sweeps you off your feet in one swift motion, ripping away your view of yourself in the mirror.

“König!”

“What?” He draws, carrying you from the bathroom to the bedroom.

“Put me down!” You say through a giggle, kicking your feet in his restraint.

“Hold on, I just have to get my curls in.”

He holds you horizontally across those strong arms, muscles tensing as he lifts and lowers you while you giggle all the way.

“I’m too heavy for this!”

“Barely a warm-up, liebling.”

He effortlessly tosses you onto the bed with a bounce, crawling over top you before you can even finish your squeal.

He showers kisses all over your bare tummy, his stubble sanding against plush, soft skin. Trailing his slobbering kisses up to your chest, giving your perfect breasts plenty of love. Your thighs would be last, showering you with pecks and even licking slow stripes across the flesh.

“König!”

“What?”

He’ll feign innocence, but that cocky smirk on his face betrays him.

“It’s too bad you can’t see what I see.”

───♡──────────

[starry-miki]

⭐️ Gift 2 for @sane-omblog ! In participant of @obeymeholidayexchange ⭐️

Prompt! “Purgatory hall squad in matching sweater for Christmas”

(Click for clearer version idk how to fix it ;-;)

💕 I would like to first say thank you to @ephie-om for both helping me with what Simeon would be doing and also “encourage” me to keep this piece and finish it all the way though! And i would also like to thank my sprint squad too; yall help me stay productive and I finally would like to thank @aspiringtrashpanda for the creation of this event, I’ve had a wonderful time meeting so much new people and gaining new moots and seeing my older ones too!! I love y’all so much!!! 💋🫶🫶💕

Now onto this piece thoughts and comments, other info and bonuses! (Kinda Long?)

After 9 crashes on procreate and hours of labor I would love to present you, your 2nd gift Ne! I decided to go a little all out for this one since I know I wouldn’t have enough time to do the 3rd gift 😔 (more details below)

Frankly I’m surprised it turned out alright, since I completely forgotten how to render more uhhhh more extravagantly?? and the last time I actually fully render was about roughly in May for Ven congrats gift?? So basically this was running on Christmas prayers and hopes and dreams LMAOOOO

⭐️

Cookies! You may notice each cookie looks a bit different, which each character decorated each others cookie!

Simeon did Solomon’s cookie,

Luke did Simeon’s cookie,

Raphael did Luke’s cookie

and you already know which one old man made drew it with my left hand (let’s be honest it’s the best looking cookie and the best looking thing in this entire piece I’m make it as my profile pic)👁️👁️

⭐️

Here is a full view of the piece without the cookies surrounding I forgot to save a non filter version of it but I have some snippets when I was sending it to one of my acquaintances but I guess of only old man and Raphael?? (But Raphael came out so cuteeees 😭💕)

⭐️

So the 3rd prompt details I’ll talk about it on my side account in a new post. I probably have it up some time in the next few days if not def sometime on first week of January, it also got a backstory to it LMAOO

💕 Happy holidays again Ne and I hope you enjoy your presents! And I hope the new year brings you joy and wonderful new things for you!! 🐞💋💕

[m-robinavitch]

Hello on this beautiful trope Tuesday! I was wondering if you could do 3 with Jack, thank you and I love your work!!!

Trope Tuesday Wednesday! Just finishing the asks that were sent yesterday because I did not expect that much love from y’all 💕😭

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader

Trope: Enemies to Lovers

Jack Abbot lived to make your life hell. He lived to make your job difficult and loved to see that little forehead vein throb when you come down from the ivory tower that Gloria and you operated from. There was a shiver that would run down his back when he heard those heels clack along the floor early morning- desperate to catch him before he fucked off away from responsibility. Fucking Jack Abbot and his night crew were a malpractice suit waiting to happen. And you were deputized as the hospital’s attorney- the one to defend him when something inevitably did blow up in his face.

“Dr. Abbot,” you already had a headache. Already sifted through emails from Gloria this morning- concerned about potential problems that have plagued the ER and somehow one man always had his name in the hat.

“Well if it isn’t the hospital’s Risk Management attack dog, how’s the view Mount Olympus?” That evil gremlin smirk never leaves his face but yet he doesn’t look up from his tablet while he charts.

“Did you admit a patient last night through the ambulance bay without intake protocol?” Your hands came to rest at your hip, tight pencil skirt doing little for Jack’s imagination at the moment.

“Sure did, he was bleeding out- thought I’d prioritize not letting them die over paperwork and protocol,” he hands the tablet to Dana, leaning on the counter while taking his eyes over you with a smirk. “Don’t tell me- did you make your way all the way down here to scold me? I’m touched sweetheart. You missed me.” That dimple liked make an appearance every once in a while- hidden beneath stubble and smile lines but you knew it was there. It made your knees weak.

“I miss the days before you were here, my blood pressure was a lot lower.” You tried to maintain your annoyance- tried to not rake your eyes over him, how his arms crossed and his biceps threatened every seam of his sleeves.

“Come on- admit it,” he leaned in a bit, voice dropped lower and eyes even softened, “you love when I cause trouble- it gives you a reason to visit me.” You don’t reply- you just turn on your heels and walk back to the safety of your office. God he loved watching you walk away almost as much as he loved watching you angrily stomp over to him.

He makes it a few days before he graces your presence with irritating remarks and his stupid habits as he’s sprawled out on your office couch, legs thrown over the armrest while he tosses a pen up and down. A patient’s family had made a complaint and you were there to prep Jack for the deposition. You tired to read the notes he made- tried to focus but the way his scrub top had ridden up along his hips made you burn a bit- you could see the impression of a ‘V’ hiding under the waistband of his pants.

“Okay- so according to your notes you refer to the patient as a ‘hot fucking mess- GCS of 23, patient can see sound and hear color’” your sighed, rubbed the migraine that bubbled up in your temples.

“I was being accurate- communication is key.” He didn’t miss a beat- closing his eyes even as you spoke. He can feel the anger radiating off of you- it made him smile.

“Next time try being fucking professional Jack. You’ll only say what I tell you to say up there- understand? No- Jackisms.” You voice was sharp- direct. You had to make sure he didn’t say anything fucking stupid on the stand.

“I take offense to that,” he scoffed, sitting up and turning to face you- but that scrub top still stayed up to reveal his taut stomach. “Jackisms are a part of my charm.”

“Your charm is not legally admissible nor is it necessary.” You didn’t look up from your notes, scribbling something down to keep yourself from looking into those devastatingly handsome hazel eyes.

“Ouch, thought we were building something here counselor.” He stands, coming to sit in front of you now.

“We are- a timeline of your questionable judgment.” Always something with him. He could never just shut up and do what he was told. But you finally looked up at him, meeting those softening eyes and your heart did a flip that you definitely need to get checked out.

“You know if I hadn’t stepped in then the patient would’ve coded. The standard of care sometimes needs to be bent.” You knew that. You’ve come to understand every single reason he does what he does after a few years of working together. You don’t shame him for it- does he stress you out and annoy you to no end? Yes.

“I know that Jack. But the patient’s family doesn’t see a hero. They need a scapegoat- I’m not letting you go down for this, okay?” You were earnestly telling him that you’d do anything to protect him- but you were telling yourself that it was only for the hospital. Just for the good of the hospital and people who need a healer like him. Not because you get lost in his eyes or because he’s gorgeous or-

“If you get me locked up- conjugal visits aren’t off the table.” He could never learn to shut the fuck up.

[magicicephoenix]

Wake up, wake up.

without words (& bonus au tidbit) under the cut :]

so. if anyone was curious what it looks like when the Regeneration Protocol is active… this is it! the Time Lord’s iris color overtakes their eyes. :)

you could almost say that it’s… that it’s very eye catchin— *gets shot*

[collectivecloseness]

Just a little domestic something about Kurt’s pretty casual typical behaviour around you...

(Cw: 18+, smut)

Kurt Kunkle x reader

Kurt comes and sits on your lap after a long stream, you could tell his gaming session was intense because of the yelling through the thin walls, not just because he was sweaty when he wrapped his arms around you, and when you pushed your hand over his forehead through his hair.

You hum “Did you have a good stream baby?” Your hand continuing to stroke through his hair that to be fair wasn’t exactly greasy, there was definitely enough volume to be fluffy enough for your fingers to flow through, but he was definitely sweaty.

Kurt shuffles closer to you on your lap. “Mm.” he hums, and by his tone you can tell something was up. Due to his cheers and screams of “LET’S GO!!!” not more than 15 minutes ago, you can tell it wasn’t to do with the game. More than likely, his viewership numbers, or Bobby.

“Bobby was being kinda mean...”

There it was.

“Baby Bobby’s an ass. Just drop him.” You kiss his forehead as he gives you those dark eyes, but pouty lip. “He’s fake.” You add on, hoping that’ll tip the scale even a little bit, if anything add more weight long term at least.

“I’m still not getting enough numbers on my own. Bobby helps.” Kurt mumbles, shuffling closer to you yet again on your lap, his arms wrapped under yours, long slender fingers playing with your hair at your back.

You sigh, the Bobby problem was an ongoing one, and you didn’t really need to sort it right now. You kiss up Kurt’s neck, then down his collarbone, to his left shoulder, Kurt mumbling a little, a small whine there, but as you kiss to the collar of his blue shirt, you realise it’s almost definitely coated in his sweat too. At least you kinda liked when Kurt got a little sweaty. He always smelled good in bed after a few rounds.

“Are you gonna have a shower baby?” You ask, stopping your kisses to look at him while you gently sweep his brown hair back, being careful of those gorgeous eyelashes. Kurt shakes his head, it tilted down, his eyes toward your chest “Uh uh.” Kurt responds.

You’re about to ask, since you and Kurt have a dinner planned later, but Kurt buries his hands into your ribs softly but possessively. “I wanna do something first.”

You raise your brow, but you’ll know you won’t even need to ask, and you don’t, because Kurt’s constant shifting on your lap seemed to be purposeful, as now he was humping into the plush of your thigh, you could tell how hard he was.

“Oh baby. You want some attention?” You coo, after taking a brief moment to blush, your hand softly squeezing Kurt’s chest over his shirt.

He nods. “Yeah... I mean- no. I wanna fuck you- your thighs- your lap- your...” Kurt trails off, his mouth opening with a stunned breath, a little bit of spit on his lips, as he watches himself humping your lap, while he cages you in with his arms underneath yours. Swearing and shaking a little as he speeds up, yourself just glad the chair was pinned to the wall, the eager rate your boyfriend was going.

“Mmm...” you decide “I can still give you some attention even if you wanna do it all by yourself Kurtie.” You say, your hand ticklish on his waist. Kurt hums, but his eyes are still trained on the still growing bulge in his dark sweats (sometimes you almost forgot just how much of your boyfriend there was) as he fucks into your lap, angling downwards and pressing himself into your crotch finally. Kurt smiling wickedly when he earns a moan from you for that.

You still make good on your promise, even if distracted, and kiss Kurt all up his neck, deep sticky wet kisses just how Kurt likes. Your arms a little trapped from the ways Kurt’s pinning you, but managing to stroke and lightly claw into his back over his shirt. Moaning over a light nibble into the crook of his neck as Kurt pounds your clit right with his bulge.

“Fuck... I wanna fuck you so hard. Gonna... gonna make you mine. Wanna cum on you y/n...” Kurt breathes wetly into your throat as he pushes his broad chest into yours, his needy hips slamming himself into you, unfortunate that both your clothes are blocking what you want.

“Yeah? You wanna cover me with your cum? I’m all yours Kurt.” You say, unable to not let out a small giggle, mostly because Kurt whines hard at that.

It is feeling incredibly good though. And as Kurt pounds are roughly bouncing on and off your clit again, you moan out into his shoulder, trying not to bite down on him too hard. “Fuck, Kurt. You got it, right there baby, please.”

“Aaaahh..!” Kurt whines sharply, and you know it’s at your words way more than any feelings, he speeds up even if he’s getting sloppy, but his big hands bruise your ribs as he angles himself determinedly. “Fuck... gonna cum...” Kurt gurgles, pressing his head into your shoulder and moaning, gripping onto you tightly and not letting go as his hisses increase, his dick throbbing with need and too warm in his pants, desperate to do more but unable to be touched because otherwise-

“You can cum baby. I want you to. Want your cum on me Kurt. Will fuck you in the shower after to say thank you.” You moan hotly into his neck.

“Fuck!” Kurt slams his rock hardness into you perfectly, spitting and teeth scraping over your neck as his head falls and he whines needily.

You feel it when hot warmth pools in bursts from Kurt’s lap, still pounding right into your clit over your, fortunately, thin clothes. Kurt whining out your name as he spills out into his pants, rutting his growing darkening stain against your cunt.

You stroke Kurt’s back when his humps weaken, minus a few individual spasms of movement. A little disappointed you didn’t get to cum because you were genuinely throbbing down there right now, but you knew you’d get your chance with him later.

As Kurt stops humping you with his cum stained pants, he looks up at you with flushed cheeks, sweating even more from that small amount of effort, and his fingers not greedily clawing into you anymore.

Kurt moves forward with a happy hum. Sloppily kissing you and shoving his tongue straight into your mouth. It’d take some effort not to gag, if you weren’t used to Kurt. But very soon you’re humming right back into his mouth as you kiss him back, kissing over his tongue, as it tries to explore your mouth like it hasn’t done a million times. Especially after the first time Kurt kissed you, and he followed you around like a clingy puppy in his honeymoon period asking if you two could kiss again.

Kurt eventually pulls back, kissing the small trail of spit he leaves on your lips before you can notice (you definitely notice), and his smile is happy and relaxed on you. His eyes cheery and lips bitten in his successful smile, his cheeks bobbing with how pleased he is with himself.

“Yeah? Was that good?” You chuckle. Aware of the growing dampening leaking into you pants from Kurt, but your hand lovingly stroking over his warm cheeks as you smile right back at him.

Kurt nods, licking his lips. “Mhm. Can I make you cum now?”

Oh. You clearly are teaching Kurt a lot. You wasn’t even sure if he noticed that quickly.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely baby. Of course.” You smirk, Kurt happily cheering out loud as he leaps off his seat on your lap, not bothering to change his pants, and bounds onto his knees right in front of you. Clearly eager and happy to please.

“You- you really hit the spot too Kurt baby. Felt so good for me.” You praise, wriggling up in your seat without Kurt’s extra weight on you, getting ready for him.

“Duh.” Kurt laughs, which you’re not really sure how to respond to, except with your own breathy laugh, until Kurt says “I literally dream of your p-pussy babe.” That makes sense.

Kurt chuckles when his hand smooths over your lap, his thumb rubbing over your clothed clit, making you hiss, and coming away with a pearly string from him attached to it.

“L-Looks like you came in your pants already.” Kurt laughs, biting his lip with a smile, as he paws eagerly at your pants, his eyes shining up at you.

“Oh no. You’re not getting out of it that easy buster.” You tease. That was Kurt’s own mess. But you should’ve known what Kurt’s answer would be as he in good humour responds “Not a chance.” and immediately your flushed skin is meeting the plastic chair as Kurt basically sweeps your pants from under you like a magician. You had actually seen him practicing magic tricks, for a video or a hobby you couldn’t tell.

But right now Kurt was dumping your pants on the floor, and his warm hands were happily running smoothly up your legs, going to part them so he could see his favourite treasure, as you placed your hand spread in his soft hair, not because Kurt needed any guiding there, but because he always liked to be touched.

“Oh and by the way. We’re still definitely fucking in the shower after this. I-If you want.” Kurt adds, his smile cute and genuine, before his head and his fingers duck down to venture.

[vile-br4t]

hot girl highway walk 💅🏼

[obikinetic]

Missing your obikin art hours pls come back to us 💓💓

Anon you are so sweet and I made this just for you 🥺💖

[knightoflove]

Self shippers who have to deal with a lot of aches and pain, whether it’s because you have chronic pain or have a physically demanding job.

Your f/o doesn’t mind helping you. They love you, so of course they’ll help with anything

💛 Cooking your meals

🧡 Running you a hot shower/bath and helping you wash up

💛 Massaging any sore spots

🧡 Applying salonpas and getting you comfy with your heat pad

💛 Keeping track of all your pain medications

They’ll never judge how many chores you can or can’t do, or if you can’t do any chores at all. They adore you, all of you <3