okay, but the intimacy of sitting across from frank at a busy table and all you can think about is falling into bed with him later on. not necessarily sexually, but just to be close to him again after a couple of busy hours.
i'm a wreck.

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okay, but the intimacy of sitting across from frank at a busy table and all you can think about is falling into bed with him later on. not necessarily sexually, but just to be close to him again after a couple of busy hours.
i'm a wreck.

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Dear Wishmonger, your writings are a gift and a comfort to so many. May I ask, for my own self, how would a reader with a Neurological chronic illness be cared for by the brothers? Symptoms that seem frightening, painful and unpredictable to the outside observer leaves one wishing for a safe place to land until well again.
Twins smile upon you, friend. I hope this finds you well.
Title: Rakghoul Plague is way worse Pairing: Darth Maul/Reader (she/her) Rating: PG Warnings: Described symptoms of a hemiplegic migraine dramatized for effect (hurt/comfort), space medicine references
Conrad fixing Bellyâs hair. đ„č
sleeping with giants,,,,
Perpetual motion, golden-bright
(1234 words, also on AO3)
Autumn came early that year; drizzling droplets of amber and ruby, sprouting golden and bright-yellow-green in the shrubs around their building. Outside the windows of their little flat the world was shaking, wet-dogged-like before an exhale: ready, ready. Draco wasnât. Stirring a cup that might have gone cold, staring at the one branch of reddening leaves sway with the wind. Â
A shuffle: at the kitchen door, impossibly lovely, sleep-crusted face scrunched on a frown. Harry, in his old jumper and boxer shorts, in, infuriatingly, only one sock. All at once it rushed in Dracoâs belly, gushing and tight: affection so large it barely even fit, surging hot and fierce right through him.
âWhat are you doing,â Harry grumbled, âout of bed?â coming to collect him, two arms wrapped around his waist. Forgot to put on his house coat, forgot he was cold. Forgot that this was breathing, in, out, with the guiding rhythm of Harryâs chest.
âThe appointment,â he remembered to say. âItâs, we donât have much time. To prepare.â
âWhatâs there to prepare?â a huff of a laugh, warm and slightly moist on the back of his neck. âYou ridiculous creature. Itâs not even seven.â
âAnd we need to be there by ten,â admonishing, but gently. âI have your clothes ready.â
âDo you.â
âWith a tie, and so help me, youâll wear it. We need to make a goodâimpression. If we wantâŠâ a helpless look up and then down to the floor. Colour rising high on his cheeks, warm-warm and telling.
âDarling,â Harry breathed. Pressed a small kiss to the back of his head. âItâs going to be fine.â
âBut what ifââ turning in his arms so he could valiantlyâno, hide in the crook of his neck: âWhat if it goes wrong.â The problem, as always, was jumping ahead of himself; the problem was he was already in love with the place. With the ivy on the walls and the copse of trees at the back, with the window that looked out onto the burn and a faint, persistent smell of lavender that lingered in the eaves. That it could be theirs, this little dream. Dracoâs never allowed himselfâŠ
Gentle fingers in his hair; his eyes closed on their own. âNothingâs going to go wrong. Weâll get the loan approved, and the house is ours. Mrs. Tinsberry saidââ
âI know,â tightly. âI know what she said.â Heard himself swallow under the rustling of the wind. âItâs only, I canât help but thinkââ the words jagged in his throat: âI wasnât meant for such loveliness.â
His parentsâ estate with its neat garden, rigid, clean rows of perfect blossoms; rooms that were so scared to move even their air froze still, beautiful things that were to be looked at and never-ever touched. Straight-backed chairs and tall, lean windows that offered magnificent, manicured views of a world that wasnât real, never could be. And Draco inside it, so frightened to breathe too loudly or speak at the wrong turn or make the slightest deviation, the most miniature of mistakes, and ruin everything.
Had ruined everything. Should not be rewarded for cowardice or for cruelty. And the little house on the burn with its wilderness of a garden, with its crooked corridors and bright curtains and wonky chimney, with its nooks and cheerful cabinets and tiny attic, it wasâit was perfect, and not for him. For Harry, yes, with someone good and beautiful and sweet, someone who could keep him safe and take care of him the way he deserved. For⊠the words stung in his chest: for Harry and his family.
Resolutely: âIââ but he wasnât ready for those green eyes, for the look that went all the way from his lip (trembling) to his nose (sniffling) to his eyebrows (frowning) to his forehead (scrunched).
âDraco,â Harry said, âyou idiot,â and proceeded to crush him so tightly it robbed him of air, of reason. Draco let himself melt into the embrace the way he always did, and forgot what was still crushing in his windpipe.
(Read more on AO3 or under the cut)

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Beautiful, just beautiful
Photos by Mark Sutton
đ- donât mind me, Iâm just thinking about kiri pressing your exhausted body up against his naked chest after a rough session and punishment as Bakugou feeds you some soup he made so you will feel a bit better, especially your throat. And he also has a plate of meats, veggies, fruits, crackers and some chocolate for you there to snack on during aftercare. Those two donât let you move a finger, but youâre not going to complain, not when kirishima gently runs his nails up and down your back in a soothing motion, and how Katsuki is snuggled up to you two, pressing kisses to your head as you drift off to sleep
cw // after care + kiribaku and just some general fluff to end the night <33
bakugou and kirishima always take the best care of you after a session, they know that hey can be roughâ especially with the way they make you see stars more than once in a single night ( and ofc the obvious fact that both pro heroes are packing ), they know their responsibility of taking care of their baby.