#this post is brought to you by me not having to work on a holiday
Summary: The towns annual Christmas tree lighting shines a light on an unexpected stranger.
Pairing: Syverson x reader
Word Count: 930
A/N: For the lovely @winter2112rose 12 + 1 Christmas Stories writing challenge! Day 1 prompt: Christmas Tree/Decorations. Sorry it took so long to post this!! Kept hitting snags. It’s 9 pm here so it’s still technically day one lol!
Disclaimer: FEEL FREE TO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THE STORY! Writers live off reblogs! Do not copy any portion of my material to claim as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own.
It was always a bit warm in our small town in Texas for the holidays; Christmas time was no different. It would cool down at dusk, but never enough to snow. Truthfully, in the four years I’ve lived here I have yet to see it snow.
This year for the town's annual tree lighting our Mayor, otherwise known as the entire town's adopted grandfather Roy, had the idea to blast fake snow over the tree. To really give it that Hallmark moviesque Christmas aesthetic. It actually turned out to be a pretty good idea despite some negative Nancys on the town council.
In the middle of our square, kids of ages were laughing and playing together in the chunky white snowfall. I walked toward the table setup for hot chocolate, coffee and cookies. I overheard Roy talking to his wife Shirley.
“The snow sure was a great idea, Pop.” She was so proud of her husband, proud of us all really. That’s what most people would say.
“Oh, yes! Really outdid myself with this one!”
Shirley looked as if an elf had decorated her along with the tree. Blinking ornaments around her neck, and jingle bells on her wrists. Santa hats decorated her ears, with light up antlers that would make Rudolf green with envy. Roy had gotten away with donning his usual cowboy hat. Although I’m sure the holly sprigs in the band were her idea.
I watched them before pouring myself a cup of coffee. Four years ago I moved here with nothing but a car full of clothes, and bad memories. These two took the time to get to know me, help me get a job and a better home. They were family now. They had four kids, seven grandkids and 2 great grands.
After all the time they’d known each other, they were still head over heels for each other. I went back to my coffee when Roy stepped away to help move some tables around.
“Gram, you look enchanting!” I heard a deep voice I didn’t recognize, “Dickens would be proud! Hey! Pops! Settle down now, before you hurt yourself there.” Looking up after hearing Shirley’s laugh, I see a man helping Roy down from the back of a neighbor's truck, only getting a glimpse of his features before he turned around.
Roy patted his arm and brought him in for a bear hug as soon he’d gotten to the ground. A few guys from town, probably friends of the stranger, walked up as Roy explained that he needed to get to the tree to make his announcements before the lighting.
I’d never seen this man before. He’s tall, rugged, broad as a river and of course now he has his back to me. Ball cap over his head, the thin flannel shirt that was pleading with his shoulders, tucked into his jeans. His jeans, wow.
Before I’d realized how distracted I was, the coffee I was pouring had no place else to go.
“Shit!” Spilling some onto my fingers I managed to sit the cup down instead of dropping it. Grabbing a towel Shirley put the pot back on the warmer for me.
“Oh sweetheart! Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m ok.” My eyes flicked around to see who saw me, and see if he’d seen. “A little embarrassed now.” I mutter.
“Darlin’ no! No need for that now!” Shirley was undoubtedly the kindest woman I’d ever met.
“May I?” A deep, smooth southern timber broke my thoughts. I looked to my right, there he was. My breath caught. Behind him the lights of the tree flickered to life casting a brilliant light over everything. The town began to cheer and I was lost. Lost in this handsome stranger's eyes.
He was every bit as large as I thought he’d be. Full, dark beard, blue eyes and the perfect nose. Can a nose be perfect? I’d never wondered that before. the lights shone behind him, giving him almost an ethereal glow.
Did I nod? I must have nodded because he was moving the towel away from my hand, inspecting my fingers closely. I didn’t want to look away. I almost couldn’t tear my eyes away from his perfect features. He sucked in his bottom lip as he touched my palm.
“That hurt?” I shook my head slightly before he looked up at me. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and I may have fainted had it not been for him holding my hand. “Hey Gram, would you hand me a bottle of water that's not cold.”
He never looked away from me. Not once. “Names Sy, by the way. I’m gonna take real good care of you, I promise.”
Sy. Wait, Sy was, “ You’re their grandson in the Army?”
“I am.” He took the water from Shirley’s hand. “This might sting a bit, but it’ll feel better soon.”
Waiting a few minutes after pouring the water over my hand he asked if I was alright.
“I think I’m ok.” My fingers were red but nothing was badly hurt.
Sy stayed by my side the rest of the evening. Turns out that was his first day back home after two extended tours. No matter who came up to greet him, he sat right by me the whole time, occasionally checking on my hand.
I tried to tell him he could leave, that I was fine. He responded with a smile, “If it's alright with you I’d like to stay. I kinda like it here.”
I blushed. Of course it was.
Tag list: (As always if you want on or off please let me know!)
@littlefreya @foodieforthoughts @wendimydarling @nuggsmum @captainsy-cookiemonster @summersong69 @oddduckthatgirl l @winter2112rose @ysmmsy @blakerouge @ladycavillry @mary-ann84 @twhstuckylover @cavills-little-princess @luclittlepond @beck07990 @eldarwen333 @littlebirdofrivia @themaskismyface @enchantedbytomandhenry @supermamabear123 @diegos-butt @atomicsoulcollecto @alexakeyloveloki @kebabgirl67 @cynic-spirit @cavillsthighs @janenyfl @pixie88 @awinkies @spazzymamahenrylover @bport76 @a-little-counter-esperanto @marytudorbrandon @palaiasaurus64 @foxyjwls007 @thegirlnextdoorssister @thereisa8ella @sillyrabbit81 @littlewrenofrivia @viking-raider @being-worthy
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Everybody's Free (Part 9)
Wardlow x f/Reader
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Warnings: Some swearing.
Gifs & photos do not belong to me.
Story idea & request by @lghockey
Also the photo is just to show the outfit, not what I am picturing the reader to look like. Please imagine your gorgeous self in one these dresses or even in a dress you may want to wear for this event.
Daniel - Cash Wheeler ☆ David - Dax Hardwood ☆ Ronnie - Shawn Spears.
Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Wardlow Masterlist ♡ Everybody's Free Masterlist
Summary: F/Reader is friends with Sammy & everyone in the Inner Circle. She is also a member of his vlog squad. They found out she has a secret boyfriend & they try to figure out who it is.
Over the next few days YN as hardly left my sight except for a few times. I even got her to go to the gym with me, which wasn't the best idea because I could hardly focus on my own workout as I watched her exercise.
But the one of the best things about our relationship now being so open was us just finally being able to enjoy doing normal relationship things.
Going out to dinner, the movies, posting about each other on our social media's.
The very first photo I uploaded of her shocked all my fans. For one I never post much about my private life and two, many of them knew who she was.
The photo I uploaded is my favourite photo of her that I have taken and I even did a cheesy caption.
The photo was taken early on in our relationship. We were on the board walk in New Jersey and it was night time. We were on the ferris wheel and with the bright lights behind her, she was smiling at me like I was the only person in the world.
That photo is still the wallpaper on my phone.
The caption was,"You're my end and my beginning. Even when I lose, I'm winning." — John Legend.
I did have to delete some comments, mostly from Sammy sadly. She hasn't talked much about him but I know what he did hurt her a lot.
He sees her as choosing me over him but I was willing to put aside our differences and try to work on them so that way he could still be apart of her life.
But not now, not after what he did to her and I made a promise to myself long ago to always protect her and make sure no harm comes her way.
And I failed because she did end up getting hurt. Maybe that is why I have been trying so hard to keep her occupied but I feel like I failed her.
I even brought it up to her as she knew something was wrong with me. YN sat on my knees and wrapped her arms around my neck and had me look at her.
"Michael, you did protect me. You made sure I was okay and even went with me to grab my stuff and been taking care of me each and every day. Just realise that Sammy did what he did when we were alone and there was nothing to stop him."
"Not buts handsome. You did not fail and you have been doing a wonderful job. I love you so very much and I want," I cut her off with a kiss, muttering how much I love her.
But tonight I have to be on guard as it is now once again the holiday work party and we all had to be there.
This will be the first time since us going to the hotel that Sammy and YN will be in the same room together.
"You almost ready YN?" I asked her as I finished straightening my tie.
"Yes baby. How do I look?" I turned around and that my mouth fell open at my gorgeous woman.
"That good huh?" She teased me as she put two fingers under my chin and gently closed my mouth for me.
"I say we skip that the party and make our own memories here gorgeous." I growled at her as I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her against my body.
"We can after love and I have a very special gift for you." My eyes got real wide and I begged her to tell me what it is.
"You will just have to see later handsome and trust me, I know you have been wanting this for a very, very long time."
I was going to question her once more but I she grabbed my hand and the two of us left our room, to the ballroom of this hotel where the party was being held.
I held my head up high as I walked beside Michael. Many heads turned as we walked to the ballroom.
Even though I am in fact very confident, on this inside I am worrying. Tonight is the first night that I will be in the same room room as Sammy and the other guys.
Not only did I lose Sammy but also the rest of the guys as well, but being with the one man I love is all worth it and they showed their true colours.
My heart was beating fast as we got closer and closer to the ballroom. Our photos were being taken as we walked inside.
We found our seats and thankfully they are far away from the Inner Circle and their people.
We were sitting with the rest of the members of the Pinnacle and I was enjoying myself. Michael had his arm over the back of my chair and would randomly lean down to whisper in my ear how gorgeous I looked.
How the other men and some women wish they were in his place right now. Just having him whisper in my ear had me shivering.
There were speeches made and toasts given. It was just like last year's but better. Last year I didn't have someone and this year, I have the man of my dreams.
We ate our full of food and I got to know Ronnie's wife Cassandra as she was sitting next to me.
"Want to dance?" Michael asked me.
"Yes but you don't dance Michael." I said to him as he held out his hand.
"But you love to dance and for you YN, I will do anything." He said to me as I gripped his hand.
I heard the other women swoon at that and I did too. The two of us were dancing so close, it felt like our bodies were one.
'This I Promise You.' By NSYNC was playing and Michael was softly singing in my ear.
"I've loved you forever
In lifetimes before
And I promise you never
Will you hurt anymore
I give you my word
I give you my heart
This is a battle we've won
And with this vow
Forever has now begun"
Once the song was over, we were just looking into each others eyes as it just felt like the two of us.
What I didn't realise was that the other couples stopped dancing and were watching us, but our moment was ruined by someone sarcastically clapping.
That brought us back down to earth and I looked at the person clapping and of course it is fucking Sammy.
Part 10 coming soon.
Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @ecarroll1978 @wardlow @anaeve @crowleysqueenofhell @thewrestlingbitch @thenerdybaker523
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all these years - part three
a/n: part two is posted - these are queued before my temporary studying hiatus, so it should be posted on my page right before this one. if you send me a message/ask and I don’t respond, it’s just because I’m taking that break - I should be back again by mid-december!
warnings: language, drinking, jealousy jealousyyy
pairing: college!peter parker x reader
word count: 2.2k
summary: even though it’s been years since you and peter broke up, sometimes it feels like no time has passed at all
masterlist ~ requests are closed!
It was a week later when Peter finally got the nerve to ask you how it was going with Cindy.
You could tell he'd been wanting to. It was hard not to bug him about why he showed up with Miles in that restaurant of all the places they could've gone for a late lunch - but you didn't. More than anything, you wanted to avoid the subject, not wanting Peter to laugh at you for your first date in years not amounting to anything.
That being said, you weren't upset. You were glad you figured out that being friends with Cindy was all you were meant to be with her. Still, you wanted to go on a date where you felt sparks with the person you were with - being on that date with Cindy made you realize how much you were really craving a relationship.
Either way, when Peter brought up the subject on your next laundry night, you just gave him a simple answer.
"Didn't work out," you said, hoping he didn't say "I told you so". "Cindy is a good person, though, she doesn't have any hard feelings."
You would've been a little too embarrassed to say it was her that suggested not going on another date. But you knew she was right, and that she had just said what you were thinking before you could say it.
That was all he said, which was probably good. You could kind of tell he wanted to say more, but for once he kept his mouth shut.
"So. Ned's hosting the party this year, huh?"
Peter jumped right into the new subject, which you were grateful for. Every year since high school, you and your friends had a holiday party. It was always before Christmas and usually just before or just after Hanukkah if the timing worked out, so that everyone could have time to meet up before going on vacation or seeing family.
Luckily this year there was one Friday that everyone could meet, and it wouldn't just be you five this time - Ned and Betty were bringing some friends from MIT, MJ was bringing her partner, and you were inviting Cindy while Peter invited Miles and his girlfriend. You heard Flash was coming, which was a little surprising. Peter and him were on better terms since high school, but you still hadn't seen him in a few years. Anyone else who showed up would be a surprise.
There was always an ugly sweater contest, some kind of gift exchange, fun card and board games, and in the last few years, a lot of drinking - though you encouraged that not to happen this year since there would be some minors present. You weren't sure Flash would abide by that suggestion, though.
Ned had volunteered his parents house, as they would be out of the country visiting his older sister for Christmas. His house was huge and perfect to accommodate more people, so everyone agreed.
Cindy and Peter were going to meet you at your apartment before the party, and you were wondering if it would be weird. They had never been as good of friends as you were with the both of them, but they were always friendly, you supposed.
Peter arrived in his usual ugly Hanukkah sweater, which always made you laugh. It was covered in menorah charms and said "Get Lit" on it - easily one of the worst holiday sweaters you had ever seen since he brought it to the first ugly sweater party nearly six years before.
"How have you not grown out of this yet?" You flicked a little menorah dangling from one side of the sweater, and he lightly smacked your hand away.
"I could never outgrow this masterpiece," he grinned, and you shook your head at him. "I see you brought out a new one this year."
You liked to switch up the ugly sweaters - this year you had one with a giant snowman on the front and back, but it was very poorly constructed. Instead of a normal orange carrot the snowman had a green one on the backside, and on the front, very long stick arms. You saw it at a thrift store and knew you had to have it.
Cindy arrived with a sweater that had an image of a gingerbread man that said "Let's Get Baked!" on it, which made you and Peter snicker.
"This is pretty funny," she tapped one of his menorah's just like you had. "I've never been in an ugly sweater contest before, this should be hilarious."
"Don't compliment that, he refuses to wear a different one every year."
You three met Miles and his girlfriend at the nearest subway station, since Ned was across the city. You wiggled your eyebrows at Miles when you met her, which he rolled his eyes at. Barbara seemed like a good fit for Miles and was very funny, and you already liked her as you all got to know her.
When you five arrived at Ned's, there were already quite a few people there. Everyone split up to go mingle a little bit, and you could tell Ned had invited more people than he let on - there were several unfamiliar faces, but one familiar one that unintentionally made you frown.
"Y/N!" Flash grinned when he saw you, "It's been too long!"
"Nice to see you, Flash," you forced a smile, but his next words made you annoyed.
"Hey, all the booze is in the kitchen, I got a lot of different selections cause I know some of you are lightweights," Flash winked, and you gave him a dirty look.
"I told you not to bring alcohol, Eugene," you said flatly, but he could tell you were mostly kidding. You were sure Miles had seen worse than a few drunk college students.
"Lighten up, buttercup," he grinned, which you just scoffed at. "I promised I wouldn't force alcohol on the young ones, not that I wouldn't have some."
You knew he and Peter had somewhat mended their bad relationship in high school, but you were a littler tougher to convince. Peter was by no means a pushover, but you knew he liked to keep the peace, and sometimes you wondered if he was just nicer to Flash because it was easier than continuing a feud with him.
It was hard to forget some of the really mean things Flash had said and done to Peter.
"Hey, is that Liz?"
You unintentionally stiffened at his comment. For a moment you were wondering if he was just joking saying that, knowing it might stir something in you - but then you heard a familiar voice and realized he wasn't kidding.
"Y/N! Flash! It's so good to see you guys!"
Never in a hundred years did you think you would see Liz Allen ever again. You supposed that was silly thinking - Betty was her best friend before she moved to Oregon. With a little reluctance, you turned to face her - and of course, she just had to be so much prettier than she was in high school.
"Hey, Liz," you forced a smile, trying to ignore the petty anger you felt. How childish. "It's been so long! What are you doing in New York?"
She hugged you, which you should've expected. Why were you being so bitchy? She was always nice to you, it wasn't her fault your ex-boyfriend had been majorly obsessed with her.
"This is the first year I've been able to visit Dad in person for Christmas," she smiled. You hadn't heard any news about her dad since he was arrested so many years ago, but you were glad they were still able to visit. "Betty invited me since I was in town."
"I bet someone will be really glad to see you here, Liz," Flash grinned, and you resisted the urge to kick him. "Peter is single and ready to mingle now, by the way."
Liz knit her eyebrows, giving you a quick glance. "Oh, that's - is that recent?"
"Not at all," you assured her, forcing a smile. She knew you and Peter were together - it had happened before she moved, like just before she moved, and you weren't sure why she would think you were still together. Betty must not have thought to ever mention it to her.
Luckily, MJ saved you from an awkward silence when she walked up to introduce you all her to partner, not even shocked that Liz had shown up. Flash seemed to get bored and eventually left with Liz, pulling the poor girl into a conversation about his frat.
Peter, Ned, and Betty replaced them, and you couldn't help but notice Peter's eyes following Liz as she was laughing with Flash. Here we go.
"Why have you never introduced your friend Cindy to us before, she's the best," Ned complained immediately to you, which made you laugh. "She knows so much Star Wars lore, we could've brought her to Star Wars nights!"
You glanced at where Cindy was talking to Miles and Barbara, as well as some of Ned's friends from MIT - Cindy being into Star Wars was somehow surprising to you. Ned getting that fun fact out of her wasn't as surprising, though. He could sniff out a Star Wars fan from a mile away.
"Ned, we haven't had a Star Wars night since high school, and I didn't even know Cindy then," you pointed out, and he just waved his hand.
"We could've had a come back! I never wanted to end them in the first place."
"If you decide to start those up again, I'll invite her," you promised. All it consisted of was mostly Ned and Peter arguing about what was considered canon while you all watched one of the movies or tv shows, and you and MJ making fun of them.
Damn...the last Star Wars night you had was when you and Peter were still together. By the expression on Peter's face, you guessed he had probably just realized the same thing.
"We're going to go see what drinks Flash brought and if they're worth getting drunk over," MJ stated, grabbing her partner's arm, "But I promise we won't get too crunk in front of the kiddies."
"Who says crunk anymore," Peter muttered, making you laugh a little.
"Honestly, I think I'm going to do the same. I feel so stressed still from finals, I think I need a drink," Betty complained, and you raised your eyebrows when Ned took her hand.
"Me too, babe. Let's go see what he's got."
You couldn't even act surprised when Betty kissed Ned on the cheek and pulled him toward the kitchen. Which left you with just Peter.
"Ah, so that is happening again," you said unsurprised, and Peter chuckled.
"Are we really shocked?"
"Absolutely not. Fifty bucks it's over before the new year."
"You're on," Peter grabbed your hand and shook if formally, making you laugh.
"Is it messed up of us to bet on our friends' relationship lasting?" You grinned, and Peter just scoffed.
"Hell no. They've had a bet for nearly three years on us, why can't we have one of them?"
You paused at that, staring at him as you comprehended what he just said. "What?"
"You know, how they bet we'd get back together before college ended. Ned has like two hundred dollars on the line," Peter laughed, but stopped when he realized you weren't joining him.
"What the fuck do you mean they've had a bet on us?"
"I-I'm sorry, are you upset? I thought you knew," he asked seriously, almost sounding offended. But you were the one that was offended - it was one thing to joke about Ned and Betty, who had never had a serious relationship and actively acknowledged that they continued having flings only. It was another that your friends had placed a bet on you and Peter, and that you were the only one who didn't know about it.
Also, Peter's nonchalance at that topic was irritating you for reasons you couldn't explain.
"I think I need a drink after all," you muttered, getting up from where you were leaning on the wall and heading to the kitchen. Peter didn't follow you, which you were grateful for. You grabbed a cup and one of the fruity drinks Flash brought, knowing it was about all you would handle.
When you came back to the room to see Peter now talking to Liz underneath the main entry way, you wished you had grabbed something stronger.
You stood in the hallway debating if you were really about to go back to the kitchen, when you heard someone yell out in the living room.
"Hey, yo, mistletoe!"
You felt your heart drop at that comment, already knowing who was underneath it just by the glee in Flash's voice. But still, you had to look up.
Liz and Peter were still talking in the same place, but you hadn't noticed there was mistletoe above them.
taglist: @lilbeatlebear @somefuckshit1 @hufflepuffseeker
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- ig Renae.okay
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home for the holidays | bucky barnes
summary: part 1 | we're going home | your mom had been pestering you for weeks about coming home for thanksgiving and bringing along the boyfriend you've kept secret for so long...
pairings: roommate!Bucky Barnes x f!reader
warnings: cuss words, fake dating, using bucky...in a good way!
It was the week of Thanksgiving and your mom had been pestering you for the past two weeks to see if you were coming home for the holiday.
“Mom, I’ve told you already that I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.” You groan while walking into your apartment post morning run.
“Honey, it is thanksgiving. You do not need to work on thanksgiving. Get your ass home or we are coming to you.” You can tell by your mom's voice that she is slightly irritated.
You sigh and close your eyes and hear the sound of your roommate opening the front door behind you. You spin around to see him with a large iced coffee. Your eyes widen as this is the most beautiful sight you’ve seen all day.
“Thank you!” You mouth at him and wave your phone to show your annoyance.
He laughs and mouths back, “mom?”
You smile because he knows you so well. You nod as he slips past you gently brushing against your backside with his hand causing you to leap from him, he always loved teasing you with touches, especially since you hated it.
“Stop.” You whisper-yell at him and he chuckles.
“Hello?! Do not ignore me.” You can now tell by her voice she is very irritated.
“Okay. Fine. I will come home but I cannot stay long. Saturday is my max.” You finally give in to her demands.
“Yay! Perfect! Now you’re bringing the boyfriend right? Do you know the one who you refuse to tell me about and send pictures of? Your father has a bet with your brother that he is not real.” Your mom laughs as you cringe.
You knew lying about a boyfriend wasn’t a smart idea but you just wanted your family off your back. You had been in New York for almost a year and all they could ask about when you talked with them is if you’ve started dating yet. Dating was a touchy subject for you as it’s never really been your top priority in life. But after years and years of constant nagging from family, you finally gave in…and lied.
You haven’t brought up the imaginary man…but you don’t deny it either every time your mom asks about him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It is at that moment a literal light bulb goes off. Your eyes go wide as you watch the brunette angel take a sip of his coffee.
A smile appears on your face and he raises an eyebrow. This is his signature look. His confused-oh-god-what-have-you-done-look.
“Actually yes, mom. James will be coming! Can’t wait to see you guys!”
Bucky’s eyes are now wide. He begins to speak but you interject.
“Look before you say no, I pretended to be your girlfriend at Sam’s 4th of July barbecue so Sharon would leave you alone!” You offer a smile.
Bucky finally pieces together what is going on and begins to shake his head no.
“Buck! Please! I will explain to Jenna or Jane or whatever your girlfriend of the month's name is, please!” You walk towards him with your hands pleading like a child wanting to go to a sleepover.
“We actually broke up, thanks.” He rolled his eyes at you and took another sip of his coffee as he walks off towards the living room.
You stop in your tracks and cross your arms.
“Perfect! You get free food and I get my family off my back until after the holidays.” You smile.
He turns around and sighs,
“Doll, I love you. I do. But I don’t think we can fool your family for a whole weekend.” He begins explaining and you know exactly where this is going.
“I can handle touch—“
“You can’t fuckin’ stand it when I touch you! How the fuck is your family going to think we are dating? Besides, you’ve kept this lie going for... what...? 4-5 months? You don’t think they are gonna ask us all sorts of questions?” He raises his eyebrow at you.
You roll your eyes and turn away from him realizing this was a stupid idea.
“Fine, forget it.” You say and sit back down at your desk.
He lets out a small sigh and walks up behind you, he softly grabs your hand and pulls you around to face him. As always, you tense at his touch but not for the reason he thinks.
“Hey look. I’m game ok? You’re just going to have to get really cool with me touching you and being you know... affectionate towards me. People in relationships show love, Y/N.” He says so matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes.
“Besides, if we’ve been dating for 4-5 months, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me.” He smirks at you.
God, what a fucking idiot.
But he’s probably not wrong.
You hate to admit all the nights you wondered what it’d be like to —
“So we’re doing this? You’re gonna be my fake girlfriend?” His Brooklyn grumble pulls you from your thoughts.
“Pack your bags! We are going home!” You exclaim and he laughs while walking off towards his room.
a/n: yes, it was short...but it's just the beginning my friends :')
taglist: @mutifandomkid | @everythingiloveandcherish | @shadytalementality | @scxletrecsmarvel | @beefybuckrrito | @ria132love | @wickedravyn | @elizamalfoyy | @stonedxsoldier | @inhumanwithpowers | @samthemarvelfan | @hysteriadarling | @missvelvetsstuff | @alexie-caesarion | @wolfbloodgirl | @capmanranger | @general-latino | @folklorelake | @ambiguousretrograde | @lostyx | @happyt0exist | @astridmargrethe | @buckysmetalarmholder | @pandareesstuff
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Male werewolf x female character - Chapter One (sfw)
Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
Hello lovely folks! Thank you so much to those of you who contributed to the post which somehow now has over two hundred notes, indicating your interest in this story! I only hope I can live up to your expectations!
Here is Chapter One, in which our protagonist leaves the city behind on a whim and travels north to a cabin retreat in a small town. I promise we’ll meet our werewoofer protagonist soon. If you can believe it, I’ve got nearly 10,000 words of this written already, though not all of it is in the order it will be told, unfortunately, so I’ve still got my work cut out for me, but I’m feeling good about writing again, which is fun. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and will consider reblogging it and letting me know if it’s headed in the direction you hoped! It’s become a rather personal project for me, so I hope you’ll be kind at the very least!
And so, without further ado and a-waffle here is Chapter One:
She might very well have been a good deal warmer with the car’s sputtering little heater cranked all the way up, but the scent of pines and the crisp, mountain air beyond was too delicious to shut out after what felt like years of recycled office air and polluted city streets. So instead, shifted her old VW into fifth and let the curves of the wide road take her through the forest, with wild, damp, green-tinged air whipping in through the windows and tangling her hair into a matted brown bird’s nest.
The thing about this holiday was that she hadn’t even intended to take one at all until three days earlier, when she’d booked a tiny cabin in the woods on a whim, without telling anyone that she’d done it.
They would have thought she’d gone completely off the rails if she’d brought it up anyway — most of her friends already seemed to think as much after she’d quit her job seemingly out of nowhere two weeks ago.
And yet, this was the first thing to feel truly ‘right’ in months.
The mess of the past year seemed as inconsequential as the previous bend in the road now, and she vowed silently as she entered the quaint little town of Pinewatch, with her car boot full of walking gear and waterproofs, that she was damn well going to enjoy herself for a change. This was going to be something purely, completely, and entirely, for her.
In person, the town itself felt even smaller than it had looked on Google Maps as she slowed to drive up the main street, but she couldn’t keep the grin off her face. It was perfect. Old houses and wooden shop fronts lined the road, with cafes and a traditional looking bar dotted amongst more practical businesses like a grocery store, post office, and doctor’s.
Spotting a space, she parked the red VW up outside a veterinary clinic and stretched the muscles of her back and shoulders out, letting them pop and creak blissfully after a three hundred mile drive north. Outside, an older lady with a Pomeranian left the clinic and began their tottering way up the street together with almost matching gaits.
Glancing at the time on her phone, she scrunched her nose up and sighed. A couple of hours too early yet to check into the little cabin just outside the town, she locked her car and meandered along the pavement in the sunshine, thinking vaguely of grabbing a coffee and something to eat to kill the time.
After browsing in the windows of a few artisan craft shops though, she found herself at the end of the main street — the length of which seemed to be the extent of the town. A metal sign just a little way ahead announced the Information Centre for the National Park which stretched around the town in a dark green blanket for miles in all directions, and with another hour to go, she figured she might as well check it out.
Gravel crunched beneath her scruffy old boots as she crossed the muddy car park and a bell tinkled above the glass panelled door as she pushed inside. Set back from the main road, the Information Centre was an old cabin, log-built and cosy, with the feel of having been someone’s home before the reception desk and leaflet stands, posters, employee photos, and bookshelves had been installed.
Behind the counter, a woman in a pastel pink hijab looked up as she entered and smiled broadly at her. “Hi. Can I help?”
“Hope so,” she said with a shy answering smile, approaching the counter. “I’ve booked a cabin nearby and I’m looking to do some hiking in the area. Nothing super adventurous — no more than ten miles or so at the very most — but I figured I’d get some local information before I head up to the cabin. I’m kind of early.”
“Sure,” the young woman said, standing up. “You must be staying in Trapper’s Lodge?”
Her slight frown was met with a friendly chuckle.
“It’s basically the only holiday rental around here.”
“Of course, I forgot it’s owned by the park service,” she laughed.
“You’re the first person to rent it this season, and it was ready yesterday so you could head on over whenever you like. We don’t get too many visitors on this side of the mountain,” she went on. “People who come for the famous views tend to go to the other side of the park, where Three Peak Falls are — you know, the ones you see all over Instagram?”
“Oh, I see,” she said, grateful to her late-night self for picking this part of the park then. Hordes of people all chasing the perfect Instagram photo weren’t exactly what she was looking for out here.
The young woman turned to fetch some leaflets from behind her. “Anyway, I’m Tala. How long are you here for?”
“Odessa,” she replied, and shuffled and rocked on her heels for a moment. “I’m booked in for two weeks, but it already feels like the kind of place I could stay forever.”
Tala chuckled wryly and handed a small stack of information leaflets and hiking trail maps out to her across the counter. Her eyes glittered playfully and she said, “Careful; the forest tends to hold on to people like you.”
Odessa raised her eyebrows and took the proffered leaflets. “That’s not ominous at all,” she snorted. “Thanks. I’ll take a look at these tonight over some supper.”
Tala nodded. “If you’re hiking solo — even if you’re in a group, actually — we recommend checking in here before you head out,” she said and indicated a trail book lying open at the far end of the wooden counter. “Just so someone knows where you are and how long you’re intending to be.”
With a nod and a warm smile, she thanked her and added, “I’ll be back tomorrow after I’ve settled in.” She waved the leaflets for emphasis and added, “Thanks for these.”
Back at her car, she stashed the maps in the front of her bag on the passenger seat, and started up the engine. A big, red Toyota pickup paused to let her pull out ahead of it, and she thanked the driver with a friendly wave and set off with her phone balanced precariously in her lap while it dictated directions to the cabin.
In fact she hadn’t needed them at all, and after just a few minutes’ drive north out of town through dense pines, she spotted the painted white stone that marked a twisting drive through the trees to the former trapper’s lodge.
As she halted on the small, gravelly patch of ground in front of the house, she stared through the muck-flecked car window and her breath caught.
In person it looked even more like a fairytale than it had on the website.
The place had clearly been recently renovated, with new plants still establishing themselves in beds around the walls, and new windows to keep the cabin insulated, but it had the feel of a standing stone; of something deeply rooted in the landscape; as much a part of it as the trees and rocks on all sides.
Stepping out, Odessa inhaled the cool damp of the forest and a short, nervous laugh bubbled out of her.
“I can’t believe this is real,” she muttered, looking around with hands on hips. A moment later she rolled her eyes and laughed again, though this time it carried a slightly hysterical tinge to it. “What the fuck am I even doing?”
No steel-frame building nor wall of glass was to be seen; just a cosy wooden cottage and the endless peace of whispering pine needles and chittering birds. Somewhere far off to her left, a rushing stream sounded in a gully, and she couldn't decide if she wanted to explore inside or out first.
Hefting her rucksack onto her shoulder a few minutes later, she unlocked the key from the little safe on the wall and shuffled into the storm porch like a tinker with a hundred groaning packs.
Inside, the cottage was everything she could have dreamed of and more. Someone, presumably Tala, had left a small welcome basket on the scrubbed kitchen table, with freshly-baked scones, a loaf of bread, some local cheese and a jar of local honey, and a note with some contact information. There was milk and butter in the fridge too, which was another nice touch.
She tramped back out to the car to bring in the last of her gear, leaving her walking boots in the enclosed porch and dumping her rucksack on the wooden boards of the cosy bedroom just off the living space.
That night she ate the slightly squashed sandwiches she’d brought with her, and afterwards, stepped outside in the dark to stare up at the patch of endless, starry sky above the cabin’s clearing. Night skies like that just didn’t exist in the city or outside of the movies, and she lost track of time as she gazed up.
Eventually, her breath started to fog in the autumn air and it wafted around her like a drifting ghost. Off to her right, the loud, mournful hoot of an owl made her jump and she turned instinctively but saw nothing in the endless dark between the trees. A twig cracked and she twitched. Taking it as a sign to head back inside before she got too cold, or too freaked out, she scuttled back inside, closing the chill of the largely silent night out behind her.
Odessa didn’t turn her phone back on once all evening, and as the wind wafted in through the open curtains later, brushing across her body in a cold whisper where she lay on her back in bed, it felt like the start of a brand new chapter in her life.
At that, she found herself almost too excited to sleep.
Next chapter --->
If you enjoyed this first taste, I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like, and if you’re excited about it, you can always let me know with a comment and/or an ask. Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.
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save your tears | part one
pairing: actor!tom x princess!reader + enemies to lovers au
summary: getting lost in italy sounds like a dream, but not when it’s with an actor who you think could be the worst person to be stuck with all night in a foreign country. as much as the two of you can’t stand each other, everyone, including the paparazzi, make it impossible to be separated. will pulling an all nighter in venice and ending up in rome for an escape be able to help you make amends? (based off the films, roman holiday + 10 things i hate about you!)
word count: 11.5k!
songs: save your tears - the weeknd, spring day - bts, remember that night? - sara keys, golf on tv - lennon stella, drama queen - milk., maniac - conan gray
warnings (?): buzzcut!tom because he’s my heart, lots of secret yearning, cursing, drinking alcohol + reader being a lightweight, golfer!tom, cringe-worthy paparazzi, tom and reader being the trope soft idiot + clueless idiot, tons of hateful tension, a very sarcastic tom + wingman!richboy!harrison, fake marriage (?)
a/n: this is purely fictional and my work! i just want to say this is a fic i’m vvv proud of it. like low-key i’m so nervous to post it BUT these tropes are just my everything and were inspired by movies + others and mushed into one long slow burn!!! thank y’all so much for your love, support, kindness and remember, love yourself <3 part two will be posted in the next two weeks! send me an ask if you want to be on my taglist!
PART I: VENICE
Summer was a season to easily fall in love or, at least, try to find it. There was free time to go out to bars & clubs and more time to hang out in the city until the sun peeked over the horizon. White sand beaches, new tan lines, and even the warmth of the sun felt like bliss because the harsh humidity after long, rainy nights had ended. But, throughout all your summer vacations spent in Italy, Venice was the closest thing to heaven on earth. It’s too bad that this was your one and only time to try those things when you’re being hovered over 24/7.
You weren’t able to leave your home in Caserta, your royal home in Italy, that often. With your family’s traditional fear of thinking you go off on your own, you were always escorted with someone to wherever you may want to wander to. It felt like being put on a leash when you seemed like a person who could have the world. Sometimes, you thought that being a princess was more of a curse than it was a luxury. While most people could pass by you not knowing you’re royalty, your face would be plastered everywhere if you ever went missing. Police would be called, your phone would be tracked and dogs would sniff through every town... quite dramatic if you were ever asked.
The air in Venice was fresh as the vivid blue casted above without a cloud in the sky. It was complete paradise, a place you hoped to venture to again when you had another free week, but just as the vacation from your home life was ending, your best friend, Delilah, somehow got you both into some kind of charade when you just wanted to relax on your last night. Her family’s wealth put her on the map, always seeing the beautiful and poised Kingston family in the tabloids for organizing their huge galas and exclusive balls. But, when Del was with you, she dropped the good girl act and let her wild side come out, ready to find something or someone interesting to do.
Although love has never worked in your favor, marriage was always brought up since you needed to find someone to wed. None of the royalty your parents brought around was worth your time, not because you were the snob, but they preferred their time talking to you about their boats and yachts, even talks of how they wished they could have more Italian cars to race through the country like F1 racers. For once, you wanted to hang out with a guy who was normal, average even, if that didn’t sound like an insult. Someone who worked for what they have rather than having it handed to them on a silver platter.
You groaned, “Who is your date bringing again? I hope it’s not someone from a rock band or… a biker.”
“I don’t know really, he just said a friend. Someone good though, I only made it a deal that way. He’s no Windsor or even a Depp, but he’s apparently really talented and super nice.” Del teased, pulling your hand behind her as if you were running late when you were perfectly on time.
“Well, he better be a son of an ambassador if you have me running in heels on granite.” You rolled your eyes, following her lead into the grand hotel. The entrance had huge doors, lined with lights that entered a beautiful lobby with greenery to blend in with the warm yellow warms and sleek floors. “I want to feel normal about this, okay? No mentioning I’m a princess just for free drinks. We don’t need cameras on us so that my parents will have a heart attack.” You mentioned.
Del rolled her eyes, “Don’t worry, I pretend I’m dating the prince of Denmark, he owes me a favor after last Halloween.”
You arched your eyebrow, “Do I wanna know?”
She replied with a sweet giggle, glancing down at her phone to check her messages. Apparently, they agreed to meet on the second floor deck, outside where the pool overlooked the ocean. Golden fairy lights curled around the railings and the night’s stars littered the midnight of the skies that went as far as your eyes could see. You didn’t want to leave yet, it was too perfect like you were painted into a beautiful canvas. As you gazed at the constellations, Delilah tapped your shoulder twice to get your attention.
“They’re in there, by the fountain. Your date looks super cute too!” She giggled, grabbing her clutch off the railing and already two steps ahead.
When you went inside, both the guys were facing away from you, talking to one another and cheekily smiling to themselves. One was wearing a white-button up and slacks and the other was in a large black shirt, baggy jeans— and for some reason a beanie when it was eighty-five degrees outside.
Immediately, when your gaze met his, you furrowed your eyebrows. Great, another actor. The reveal of him was shocking, or in your mind, disappointing. He wasn’t the Prince of Holland like you wished, someone much more… dense. Well, there were plenty of adjectives in the English language, many more in Italian, to describe how you thought about god-complexed actor with an ego bigger than the whole country of Italy, possibly all of Europe, standing in front of you with, what you thought was, a smug smile painted on his thin lips.
“Hey, I’m Harrison and this is my mate—” The well-dressed blonde smiled at Del, both of them already smitten with one another’s appearances.
“Yes! You’re Spider-man, of course, I know you. Oh my God, I almost didn’t recognize you without the curls.” Del praised him.
“Nice to meet you, and yeah, had to get rid of it again for a recent project.” Tom chuckled as he ran his hand over the freshly buzzed hair then turned his gaze at you, “And how’re you, love?”
Great, that accent is probably how he comes off as “endearing”.
“Honestly, I’ve had better nights.” You retorted, your tone was snarky yet you said it with a shit-grinning smile, which confused Tom if it was sarcasm.
The brunette furrowed his unkempt brow, but Harrison chimed in, “We were going to hang out at the bar so, let’s head over there.” It was his attempt to gloss over the awkward moment, but you could call it an honest opinion. You’ve never had a problem with being brutally honest﹣ even more so when it came to Hollywood’s elite. You heard enough from friends and others that they were some of the meanest and most spoiled beings who walked around, flaunting their pretentiousness like it was a badge of honor stamped on their designer bags and real leather.
As you crossed your arms, you trailed behind Del and Harrison’s lead while Tom was by your side. You could feel his bright brown eyes in your direction, trying to initiate conversation, but he couldn’t read your poker face. He dealt with many people like you, incredibly defensive and thought of him as presumptuous with his status. At least, that’s what he could make out from your body language from the walk to the bar which was only seconds. But, having those kinds of sudden encounters, Tom knew how to take the piss out of the situation and he absolutely intended to do it tonight.
Harrison politely asked for a booth for four, but with the late night crowd coming in, there was only one table left for two and the bar was open to anyone.
“We’ll sit at the bar, mate. No worries.” Tom insisted, purposefully not asking you.
“Okay, great. Don’t get too comfortable guys.” Harrison jeered toward his best-friend and your unamused look.
Soft jazz played quietly once you walked further into the restaurant, some people would call it romantic, but you thought this was a version of one of your hells. You were used to having doors opened for you, food made, even your hair brushed when you were fitted for royal events, but you wanted to handle yourself and not let him get underneath your skin or dress.
You pulled out your own bar stool, lifting the end of your dress so you wouldn’t pull on it when you sat down. As you crossed your legs, Tom’s eyes trailed up them, but went back to your gaze, puzzled as to what to say that didn’t make you reply with a bitter answer. Although he could always play along, not needing to play nice with such a normal girl for once… or so he thought.
“Vorrei una vodka soda, per favore?” You asked, the words elegantly flowed off your tongue.
Tom smirked, “Peroni for me in a bottle, thanks, mate.”
The bartender nodded to the both of you, walking away to get your drinks. You didn’t turn to Tom, your eyes searching around the low-lit room, any reason to not pay him mind.
Tom sealed his lips, his eyebrows raised as he does the same all while feeling sufficiently awkward, like he had done bad to you, someone he never met before. In times like this, the natural charm came out and things would mull over from warm conversation, but he knew that there was something lying beneath the surface of your body language.
“So…” He trailed, “how’s your night been?”
“I’m sweating like a pig in this heat, and you?” You answered bluntly, running your fingers through your hair, still feeling the pain at the crown of your head from how tight your bun was last night. The tiara’s ends had poked at your skull all night, having to keep your head up as well for the elite crowd that were your parents' friends.
“Well, I was going to ask if your glow was natural.” Tom smirked.
You arched your eyebrow, “Do you even know who I am, Hollywood?” You asked, your hand trailing to the back of your neck, trying to massage out the kink.
“No, but it was my follow up question and I’m actually from London so...” Tom replied, still that smug smile on his face.
With a smirk on your lips, you replied, “Well, I’m not going to tell you.”
“And why’s that? You’re too worthy?”
You hummed, “Something like that, yes.”
“Well, do you want to know my name? The least you can ask since I’m buying your drink, right?” Tom asked, leaning his elbow on the bar as he fully turned toward you.
“You should buy me a drink because it’s what a gentleman does for a woman... and while you’re not a gentleman, by all means, you’re still my date. So, no, I don’t owe you my name, Hollywood.”
Tom smirked, “See, you called me Hollywood again, or at least implied it so you do know who I am.”
You scoffed, “I know enough.”
“Ah, so you assume I’m an asshole.” Tom nodded.
“No, I know you are. Unlike the girls that fall into your lap, I was raised to see you for what and who you are… a spoiled, west-coast-influenced, actor who snaps their fingers just to get what they want.”
Tom half-smiled, “Actually I just text people these days, gets a lot of things done faster.” He jeered to fuel your hatred, “and I’ll have you know I worked for my place in the industry unlike some other spoiled actors who just have the pretty face and daddy’s money.”
You narrowed your eyes at him before taking a sip of your liquor, not liking the taste, but it was better than having to share a glance. A huff left your lips, but your gaze focused on the small dance floor in the middle of the room. Couples of all ages danced around, their hands around their partners and spinning to a happy, upbeat sound. It reminded you of the times you’d stare out your big window, letting the fresh air in as you heard the samba and Italian pop blare down from below. It was an open patio where many residents would go for a night out, playing cards and blowing their cigarette smoke into the night. Usually, it was people your age, a life you wish you could live if you were able to leave without supervision.
There was silence between you and Tom for a few minutes, before he turned to you, “Do you want to dance? Ease the tension?” Tom asked, putting his beer down.
“Not with you.” You trailed.
Tom bitterly chuckled, “Okay, am I missing something? Where was the part that I gave you a real reason to not like me?” He asked out of curiosity, his fuse running shorter and shorter.
You turned to him, setting down your drink that was only ice, “I know guys like you. You think because you’re famous and you get everything you want and anyone you want to fall into your lap because you’ve been in some… amateur movies.” You protested, straightening your back.
“Amateur?” Tom scoffed, “I haven’t been in amateur movies.”
“That’s not what reviews say.”
Tom arched his left eyebrow, “So you haven’t even watched my movies to know?”
“I don’t have to know if everyone else is making such a big fuss about them. It’s what happens when you stick to American movies, why not broaden your horizons a bit?” You ranted on, the bartender already refreshing your drink and placing it on the bar.
A stuttered chuckle left Tom’s mouth, his ego deflated as he took in your words, “I do broaden my horizons. I broaden my horizons all the time.”
“Like when?” You raised your eyebrows.
Nothing left Tom’s mouth, not even a word on his own tongue, but he finally replied, “I do my own stunts… most of the time.” He said before taking a sip of his cold beer.
“Hmm, is that what your publicist tells you to say?” You retorted without looking at him.
“Okay, what have you done that I haven’t done? Most adventurous thing, go.” Tom asked, slapping the top of his hand against the bottom of his hand in his lap.
Your heart began to beat faster as you tried to think of something, anything with how limited you were able to do anything. Tom almost smirked at the panic painting on your face, watching you take a long sip of your drink until you answered, “I went horseback riding once…”
“Horseback riding? That’s it? Was it side-saddle?”
“No, we went horseback riding in the Alps.” You sealed your lips.
“Oh, we? Who? Boyfriend? Fiancee?”
You clenched your jaw, “It was a great time and I could have fallen over the edge of a mountain at any time. No ropes or anything.” You said then took a quick sip of your drink, “Besides, it’s not like any of those things you do you plan yourself, you’re paid to do them.”
“It’s my job technically, and I wouldn’t trade any day of it.” Tom fired back.
It made you feel shallow with how low you were willing to go to sink his ego. All you could do is face the music, quite literally, and feel like you hadn’t done anything with how limited you were to your life. The years have sailed by and the only thing that could come to mind when the word ‘adventurous’ was brought up was… horseback riding. The loud words of your parents boomed inside your head, the music playing seeming to fade, and all you heard was them telling you not to attend events other than regal balls with monarchs or tea parties with girls who just married their way into royalty.
Tom saw the empty glare in your eyes, “Hey… I didn’t mean to make it a competition or anything--”
“It’s fine. It’s not like I care what you’ve done. We live in two different worlds.” You smeared over your embarrassment with something dry and quick.
Tom didn’t feel so much as hatred, as something was bothering you and it wasn’t him. He was cautious when thinking of something else to say, but Harrison touched his shoulder that made him turn back.
“Hey, we’re gonna go back to our room. She’s been whispering in my ear since we got here.” Harrison jeered, leaning on Tom’s shoulder.
“Our room? Like yours and mine?” Tom furrowed his brow, “Then what do I do?”
“You’re an actor, improvise…” Harrison patted Tom’s shoulder, “Things aren’t going well with the friend?” He added, his icy blue eyes taking a quick glance at you.
“No offense, but I think this girl hates me… and I’ve never met her before.” Tom whispered.
“You had to have done something bad for her to not like you… Are you sure you didn’t sleep with her?” Harrison half-joked, but Tom gave him side-eye in response.
While Harrison spoke to Tom, Del stood on your side and she giggled, “Hey, do you have a condom?”
“I barely get to leave my own home, what makes you think I’m carrying those?” You replied in an unamused tone.
“Can’t say I didn’t ask you.” She continued to giggle, glancing her dazed, green eyes over at Harrison.
“We’ll see you guys in the morning.” Harrison smirked, Del getting his arm before the both of them walked away.
Tom watched them walk away, “Definitely don’t want to interrupt that later so, I guess you’re stuck with me for the night.” He spun back on his bar seat, grabbing his beer again.
“No, I have a key and our hotel is just down the road. So, you’ll walk me there like the gentleman I know you can act like.” You trailed, watching him tip back the bottle until there was nothing left. He got the beer less than a half an hour ago, and you didn’t want to say how impressive it was. Granted, you’ve only had alcohol at parties and it was usually one sip of champagne or old wine to toast.
“C’mon, let’s stay for a few more minutes… just because I want this moment to last forever and ever.” Tom trailed with all the sarcasm in his tone.
You cocked an eyebrow, “Oh, haha. You should add comedy to your exceptional résumé.”
Tom’s phone vibrated in his front pocket, making him wiggle it out and the text on his bright screen was from Harrison. He assumed his best-friend would either ask about a room key or if he had a spare condom, but instead there was a picture of the front, glass doors and a group of men with big cameras.
“I’d stray away from the lobby, mate.” The text underneath said.
Tom held back his curse, simply turning off his phone and putting it back into his pocket and you rolled your eyes at him.
“What? Your other date cancel on you?” You tilted your head, sipping from your straw.
He sighed, “You know… If I didn’t know you, I’d think you’re a statue, so why don’t we relax for a few more minutes.” Tom said before gesturing to the bartender to come back over, “I’ll have another beer, do you want another drink?”
“I want to go back to my room, if you don’t mind.” You tried to speak politely.
Tom wasn’t trying to be a dick, but he wanted to cringe at himself for sounding like one. The real reason he didn’t want to leave was not to prolong this argument, but fear of the group of paparazzi and fans outside the hotel. As much as he wanted to humble himself, anywhere he went, there was always a mob outside practically shaking for him to come out. The limits people would go surprised him, but he still tried to be cautious about how he went about it and if it was actually good for him or raising his ego to fuel a Hollywood persona. Some days, Tom wished he could flash back to being able to go out without being bombarded by phones and cameras in his face, so much that he had to hire an assistant to run errands for him. A part of him didn’t want to admit it was nice to have things done for him at his beck and call, really anyone’s dream, but at the same time, he suddenly realized how private his life had become more than anyone could ever handle.
As you grabbed your purse and gracefully moved off the stool, Tom quickly got up, “Uh, why don’t we walk around for a while? This place is really nice… Did you see the flower swing in the lobby?”
You narrowed your eyes, “No, I want to get away from you, aka the creep who’s trying to get me to stay here just because he’s lonely and a little desperate.”
The two of you stood there, Tom’s face practically pink and his lips went to the side, but he turned to the bartender, “Is there an exit through the kitchen?”
With a nod and friendly grin, the bartender replied, “Through those two back doors, keep walking straight and you’ll end up on the street behind the hotel.”
“Hey, thanks mate.” Tom nodded back as he took out his wallet, “If anyone comes in asking for me, tell them I went to the garden on the top floor.”
You watched Tom as he pulled a crisp hundred dollars out of his black-leather wallet, the gold designer logo by the corner. It made you turn your attention to the shiny, silver watch glimmering against his tan wrist. Roman numerals circled around the frame, the brand in small letters in the center, not realizing you were concentrating so hard because your buzz hit you hard just from the little alcohol you had. There were one of two sips left, ice barely melted, but your tongue needed water to wash the light drunk feeling away.
“Of course, Mr. Holland.” The bartender said as he took the bill.
Tom turned to you, “Okay, let’s go.”
“Wait, wait!” You groaned, finding the straw with your tongue and sipping the rest of the drink until you heard the sound of slurping, “Okay, I’m done. Jeez. So eager now.” You trailed, turning your back to him and Tom lightly put his hand on your forearm.
“This way, princess.” Tom groaned, unironically calling you that.
“Now how did you know?” You faked a gasp, walking behind him and his hold on your arm went around your hand.
You giggled, but Tom was too busy looking left and right to make sure he wasn’t getting caught. None of the people lingering in the bar seemed like his fans, but it never ceased to surprise him if a photo of him was taken when he wasn’t looking.
After avoiding a few dark-haired busboys, Tom waved the trailing steam from the kitchen out of his face while his other hand held yours with a tight grip. Eruptions of pan fires and various great smells consumed the room, but you dodged chefs left and right as you were pacing through the busy scene.
One guy, around the same height as you, turned around with a hot pan as you passed by, making you quickly duck your head with Tom still pulling you behind him.
“Why are we going this way? We’re not getting shot up by anyone.” You groaned, coming back up and touching your hair to make sure it wasn’t singed off.
“Trust me, it’s a better way. You’ll thank me later.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m not thanking you for anything.”
Once you got to the exit door, you entered the alley that was only lit by a single, warm light from above the door. The cool summer breeze blew against your faces, a relief from the bubbled heat inside the kitchen and you leaned your head back to look at the beautiful, bright moon. The white gleam shone down as a heavenly glow over the city where people easily fell in love, but at this moment, you were feeling sore from your heels and sick of Tom.
Before you could take in the moment, Tom held your hand once again, “Okay, let’s go… this way.”
“Let go of my hand, you don’t just grab a woman’s hand without warning.” You spoke properly, pulling your hand away from his in one swipe.
“Well no offense, princess, but you look pretty tipsy. I know it’s not the breeze so, I’m making sure you don’t fall on your face.” Tom said facing forward, you trailing behind him.
You groaned, “Would you stop calling me that? Just because I act like a princess doesn’t mean I am a-”
Your words were cut off by Tom suddenly shushing you, bumping into his backside and you held his shoulder to regain your balance. Tom, without looking, tried to wrap his arm around to your lower back to help you not fall as well.
“Hey! What are you doing?!” You protested, pushing yourself away from him.
He carefully peeked his head around the corner as the pupils in his golden-brown eyes instantly became small, but Tom had his sight glued until the men with cameras walked across the street.
Tom let out a breath of relief with his back against the wall.
You arched your eyebrow, “What the hell was that about?”
“Hiding from the paparazzi.” Tom said shortly, his head still looking in the same direction.
Rolling your eyes, a small chuckle left your lips, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not some supermodel who would know how fatal it is to be seen by a bunch of guys with cameras getting your every great angle.”
Tom turned his head with an peeved look painted on his face before he passed you, walking down the sidewalk.
“Where are you going? You can’t just leave a woman alone in the middle of the night, on a corner, in a busy town.” You complained, cautiously following behind as your heels moved between the cobblestones.
“Sorry, but I can think of a million better things to do than you making fun of me, mocking me and insulting me all night.”
“Hmm, and to think, I thought you actors had thicker skin.” You muttered, your eyes staring at your feet as you continued to be careful with each step you took, your arms a bit out from your sides to maintain your center of gravity. Just when you thought you were balanced, you heard a snap and the weight of your right foot dropped enough that you leaned onto Tom’s shoulder for support. He caught you with his one arm, able to lean you back up and you looked over your shoulder to look at your heel.
“Oh! My heel broke, oh no.” You pouted, taking off the high-class, black stiletto.
The bottom ripped from the shoe, making them unwearable for the dirty road ahead of you. With your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth gapped, there was no way to repair it right here and right now.
“Great, now I have to walk in the streets with bare feet. To think, this night couldn’t get worse.” You trailed, sitting down on a bench in front of one of the street shops.
Tom glanced at you as you wiped dirt off the bottom of your foot, looking at you massaging your ankle. While he was up to his ears with your royal-like attitude, Tom rolled his eyes before he sat on the bench next to you and began to untie his sneaker lace.
“What are you doing?” Your face scrunched up.
“I’m giving you my sneakers so you don’t complain the rest of the night.” Tom grinned.
With an unamused look, you retorted, “I’m not wearing those… They’re probably sweaty.”
Tom stopped pulling his other lace, “Unless you want to walk barefoot in the streets and step in things like dirt, booze and throw up. Maybe even pi-”
“Okay!” You retorted then sighed, “...Give me the shoes, please.” You pouted, a furrow between your brows.
“Ah, she says ‘please’.” Tom raised his eyebrows, taking off his other white sneaker and handing it to you.
You were visibly frowning, not at all happy about this, but it was better than subjecting yourself to stepping in something gross. Throwing your pride away, you take both of his Vans and toss them by your feet. Tom grabbed your heels, placing them next to him as you tied the dirty laces in big bows.
“How do they look? Tacky?” You asked, looking down, tucking your hair behind both your ears.
Tom half-smiled, “They were given to me, customized and worth a lot.”
“Well, I beg to differ. It doesn’t match with my outfit.” You pouted.
He got back on his feet, giving you his hand and you glanced up at him with the dim, yellow light shining over your face.
“I think you look lovely.” Tom admitted, his hand still out for you to hold.
You didn’t want to believe him, especially with how the night was going, it was the last thing you expected him to say. As you took his hand, you stood up with his help and the soreness of your feet was tender against the dry insoles.
“I supposed I see the appeal. They’re quite comfortable.” You kept looking down at the shoes, bending your ankle to see the sides of the clean soles.
“Was that just a compliment?” Tom acted surprised.
You quickly looked back up at him, narrowing your eyes at him, “Let’s get to the hotel before we get mobbed by a bunch of Nikons.” You huffed, picking up your heels by the straps then walking past him with your arms crossed.
Tom couldn’t help but smirk to himself, a little skip in his step to catch up to your fast pace. Street lights were far and few, only leaving you exposed to light for a few seconds, but Tom still looked over his shoulders to make sure you weren’t being slowly followed. Car horns echoed from side streets and you passed groups of people without being noticed, but once you saw your hotel across the street. Tom felt like he was home free, ready to let this stress of being seen off his shoulders, only a few feet away until his name was called.
“Oh my god, it is him!” One girl squealed, quickly walking up with her friends.
While it was hard to hold back, Tom scrunched his face before turning around to the excited teenagers, their phones already out so they could take a picture with him. He handed you your heels, holding them by the ankle straps while you waited for him and his little fangirl group.
“Hey, how’re you guys?” He grinned, walking up to them.
The scene made you roll your eyes, but you kept your distance and leaned against a road sign pole.
“We heard you were filming around here! What’s the movie about?” One of the young girls, her hair short and a bright blonde, curiously asked him.
“Soon, I’m not gonna spoil anything.” Tom jeered, signing one of the phone cases given to him along with a metallic silver sharpie.
“Ugh! We can’t wait.” The taller brunette smiled, “Can we get pictures, please?”
“Yeah! Of course.” Tom smiled and the blonde girl immediately got under his arm, giving her friend her phone. She hoped Tom couldn’t feel her heart beating out of her chest, practically red from being this close to him.
“Is Harrison here too?” One of them asked, giddy just from his presence.
Tom nodded, “Yeah, he’s out though.” Another flash going off with another girl under his arm.
“We almost didn’t recognize you with the buzzcut.” The other quickly followed up, “Where are your shoes?”
“Umm…” Tom trailed, turning red from feeling on the spot.
You cleared your throat, Tom only turning his head your way while the girls continued to flash their phone cameras at him. A tight grin, obviously sarcastic, grew on your lips, then sealing them once he looked away.
Tom took one last picture, showing his pearly smile before saying, “It was nice meeting you guys.”
They cheerfully thanked him, genuinely seeming happy but you didn’t quite understand why. As Tom strolled back over, you handed him the expensive, yet ruined, heels, but his glance was focused on someone across the street with a big camera pointed his way.
“Look at you, lowering girls' expectations one day at a time.” You said with raised eyebrows.
“Apparently, it’s my specialty tonight.” Tom sighed, “Let’s go.” He placed his hand above your lower back, trying to escort you from the mob of snapshots that could come at any second.
The two of you walked up to the entrance of your hotel, Tom pulling open the door for you. You wiped your shoes on the mat in the foyer, then both of you set foot in the lobby. A few people turned their heads, staring at the possible couple before them, and furrowing their eyebrows at your feet, wondering why Tom was just in his socks, but he turned to you to focus from the attention.
“I can’t go back out there for a few hours. I don’t need paparazzi coming up to me and asking questions. I can’t be seen with you.”
Right then, you wanted to tell him that it was a privilege to be seen with you. But, you bit your tongue and tried to remember that you only needed to spend a few more hours together then, hopefully, never cross paths again. It wasn’t worth getting to his level, or so you thought.
You lightly scoffed, “With me?”
Tom closed his eyes for a second, nodding his head, “That’s not what I meant. I just mean that I don’t want to get you into this, it sucks having your business leaked to millions of people... By all means, it’s not because your company isn’t appreciated for being so warm and cheery.” He ended with his ongoing sarcasm.
Your mind said no, wanting to trip him on the way out, but your heart didn’t have the will to leave him on his own even though you were willing to a few minutes ago. After seeing him with his fans, there was an authentic side you saw from him that made him seem unfeigned compared to his Hollywood ego.
“Fine, you can stay… I know your face is your money maker even though I’d like to see some girls tear you apart.” You hummed, tilting your head at him.
Tom chuckled, “I only asked because I figured we’re having such a fun time, why stop it now, darling?”
“Keep it up with the ‘darling’ pet name, and I’ll push you out there and record it.”
“Oh, please do.” Tom grinned, turning his back to you.
You rolled your eyes, “I can’t stand you.” As you walked away from him, his back still turned to you. Tom looked over his shoulder, seeing you were already a distance away so he quickly picked up his pace and caught up behind you. He arched his head up as he walked, squinting his eyes and admiring the beautiful tiles layered along the ceiling. He wasn’t an expert in architecture, but your hotel made the one he was staying at look like a kept up motel. The chandelier lighting shined against the gold foil within the tiles, giving the place a natural glow even in the night time.
Tom whistled, “Wow, does this place have a helicopter pad on the top too?”
“Yes, and they come with huge bottles of champagne and strippers.” You grinned at him, walking side-by-side with him.
“...Don’t joke about that.” Tom trailed.
As the two of you approached the sleek elevators in the hall, paparazzi with their huge cameras in hand were outside on the back patio. Tom could see them storm in, eager looks on their faces past the glass of the back doors. Even though one of the managers interfered, Tom lightly pulled your arm to the side to hide in the hall of elevators.
“Hey! Again, with the grabbing!” You whisper-shouted, moving away to stand in front of him. You pushed the top button on the pad, seeing it turn yellow then crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“Are they still out there?” Tom asked you, standing close to the tall plant.
You forced a grin, “Who? The screaming fans that probably have locks of your hair?”
“No... the paparazzi, right out there.” He continued to whisper, his back still against the wall.
As you carefully leaned over, while also trying to be graceful, you saw the cluster of men with a camera in one hand, some with the huge flashes attached to the top of them, and all of their mouths moving at the same time.
“Maybe if I go out there, I can certainly convince them you’re not that big of a deal.”
“Pff, that’s impossible...” Tom nodded.
You quickly turned your head to him, “Do you really want me to throw you out there?”
“Kidding… I’m kidding.” He trailed a chuckle.
You narrowed your eyes at him, then turned back to the hectic scene outside, “I think they’re being told to leave now.”
Just as Tom thought he was in the clear, he shifted his attention to a few paparazzi that had snuck in through the side door. He watched them as the men scanned the room to see if they were caught, but Tom’s eyes widened as they started coming in your direction.
“Hey, hey, we have to go, right now.” Tom huffed, reaching out for your hand.
“But the elevator—”
“We don’t have time for the elevator.” He persisted, pulling your arm in his direction.
Both of you turned your heads away from the doors, attempting to ignore the paparazzi yet they still yelled Tom’s name as loud as they could to tempt him to look at their flashing lights. You stayed close to Tom, putting your hand on the side of your face to hopefully mask your identity so there wasn’t a chance you could ever be linked to this embarrassment.
“Tom! Is that a new girlfriend?”
“Who is that?!”
“How long have you been together?”
If you didn’t know any better, they were like seagulls squawking for the same bait, practically tripping over each other to get any shot to get their paychecks. You could understand your conscience pulling you either way to either have a moral high ground or burst out in rage and tell them to go away. It almost made you grateful that your royal spectacles weren’t in the public limelight.
“C’mon, c’mon, darling.” Tom said under his breath, opening an exit door.
“Don’t call me that.” You retorted yet your hand was squeezing his tight.
You both squeezed through, finding yourself outside again but golf carts were evenly parked and a wide path lead out into the dark.
“You know, I think you’re really overreacting right now. You’re acting like you... shot someone or something like that.” You huffed, dragging yourself behind him.
“Well I have a getaway plan.” Tom trailed.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “...You’re not being serious, right?”
Tom walked over to the stand with the golf keys inside, grabbing the first one he saw and read the number in golden font.
“You haven’t taken me seriously the whole night so what does this one thing do?” He said as he searched for the golf cart with the matching number.
You nodded, “Wait, but this is stealing...”
“Ah, look, they even have a bag of clubs. Ooo, property of Wade Duffield. Happy anniversary, babe. Love, Rachel...” Tom ignored you, running his hand over the tag attached to the bag.
“Hello?” You sang to him, his back still turned to you.
“Look, these other clubs are Rachel’s. Must be honeymooners…” Tom trailed, flicking the tag before he walked around the cart and sat in the driver’s seat.
“What? Because you think you’re some celebrity, you get to take people’s things?”
“I’m not taking it, we’re just leaving until all the paparazzi are gone. Huge difference.” Tom told you as he turned the key, making the golf cart beep a few times.
The sound of crickets filling in the silence as you exchanged a blank stare with Tom. It was one of those ‘use your head or your heart’ moments and it left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, but when was the next time you were going to be able to steal a golf cart?
“What do you say? I’ll be Wade if you’ll be Rachel.” Tom put his hand out for you to hold.
You rolled your eyes, “I bet you stole that from one of your own movies.” You scoffed, walking around to the passenger side.
Tom patted his hands on top of the dense steering wheel, “Depends, did it swoon you enough? Because I’ve memorized a lot-”
You tossed your heels on the floor, “Just drive, Hollywood.”
“Whatever you want, princess.” He said before driving onto the asphalt path.
Though you couldn’t see, the full moon beautifully hung in the stars, light gleaming against the grass and it lit your way the further you went out. With the warm, summer breeze brushing your skin, the night seemed perfect for what it really was-- running away from men with big cameras. Exhausting as it was, this moment could make up for it. The royalty you felt everyday vanished, even if Tom didn’t know your true identity, it was nice to not feel protected by someone overbearing. He was just the opposite, always full of surprises. But, you weren’t ready to admit how fun it was starting to get.
Tom pulled over to the driving range, where lights set up along the area so you could see around the green.
“This looks like a good place to lay low for a while.” Tom suggested, walking to the back of the cart to get the driver from the golf bag.
“There’s probably security cameras here or something… why don’t we just ride around for a while?” You replied, a bit flustered, and turned in your seat.
Tom walked backwards, “Are you coming?” He smiled so big, enough to call it cheeky.
You huffed sitting there, pouting your lips and closing your eyes for a second. There was no use walking all the way back and you didn’t want to go back to your room, so somehow this seemed like the best option.
“You better be able to convince the police with those great acting abilities I’ve been hearing about.” You grunted, walking away from the cart to catch up to him.
Out of all the escapes, this was Tom’s safe haven. Any place he traveled to, golf was something he could always find. A quiet place with an open field and all you had to do was hit a ball. Usually he had his brother to accompany him, being able to laugh and talk about anything, but this long trip to Italy was a new loneliness he hadn’t felt since he first broke into the acting world. The past two months were all about working, exhausted by the end of the night then having to wake up when the sun was just rising over the ocean’s horizon. It was nice Harrison had time to visit him for these few days, but Tom didn’t know what he would do with himself for another month left, almost dreading the job he loves most.
Tom looked around before finding a plastic bucket filled to the brim with golf balls. You put your weight on your right leg, your arms crossed as you watched with an arched eyebrow. After spilling a few golf balls, Tom, still in just his white socks, moved a ball in front of him with his driver.
“So we’re just gonna stand here all night and hit golf balls? Hello? Did you forget about how we need sleep and shelter, preferably with a roof.”
“Shush… I’m trying to relax.” Tom whispered, focused on the ball.
You gasped, completely flustered, “Excuse me? Did you just tell me to sh-”
The ball shot through the air, losing it in the sky and assuming it went far enough that it disappeared into the night. His swing was loud right next to your ear, enough to make you forget about what you were going to rant about and look back out into the night.
“If only I could see where I’m hitting, but it’s more fun this way.” Tom smiled to himself, moving over another ball with his club. He moved his shoulders up and down, trying to relax them before preparing to swing once more.
“And you find this relaxing, how?” You asked, your left eyebrow raised and leaning on your driver.
Tom nodded, “You take all your anger and stress and just--” He grunted as he swung, “...slam it right into the ball with your club, it helps me clear my head sometimes.”
“Yeah, and then there’s that little voice in your head saying, ‘Oh, so many people are in love with me, I can’t stand it! I’m Spider-man, look at me, look at me.’” You poorly acted, batting your eyelashes with your hand placed on your chest, holding it over your heart.
Tom raised his eyebrows, “...Done with your performance? Or should I hold out for applause?”
You hummed, “Not yet. I’m just so smart and funny and everyone worldwide loves me!...” You took a dramatic pause, turning back to him, “Okay, now, I’m done. Unless-”
“No, no, I’ve seen enough, I should really give you my agent’s number.”
A smirk painted on your lips, humming before you placed another ball down in front of your feet.
“But, seriously, what do you like about this? I can actually hear all my thoughts… It’s quite annoying.” You huffed, swinging the driver and watching the ball fly up in the air. He took another hard swing to a different, dirty ball and both of you listened to the echo of the club making contact through the quiet night.
“It’s easier to be alone… away from filming movies, away from questions and interviews… Just nobody is around and all I have to focus on is how far I want the ball to go. You clear your head then swing.” Tom answered.
There was a humbleness to his answer, probably the most sincere thing he said so far. Your lips twisted with the silence that followed, not wanting to spit out a comeback since you felt the same way. While you didn’t find golf comforting, you liked sitting in your book nook, looking over your town and people watching-- wondering the lives everyone lived or even making up their own stories, like they were characters in a real life fantasy panning in front of your eyes.
You hummed, “Hmm, I guess I’ll try it your way.”
Tom watched as you relaxed your body, maintaining a proper stance before you rotate your shoulders. As he narrowed his eyes, Tom followed the ball until it flew high and into the dark, disappearing with the rest of the stars.
“What do you think? 200 yards?” You trailed, placing your hand above your eyebrows to block the bright light coming down.
“You play golf?” He asked surprised.
You half-smiled, “Private lessons since I was five, along with ballet and tennis.”
“Ah, so you’re a rich kid? Ivy league school, caviar with a little gold on top?” Tom tilted his head, scrunching his nose and he smiled, it almost made you want to grin back.
“I’m not… rich. My parents are and they love their jobs. I’m grateful to be their child.” You trailed, hoping it was enough to cover your white lie.
Tom turned his head, “What do they do?”
“Hmm, they’re… investors.” You hummed, digging your heel into the grass.
“Investors in?...” Tom trailed.
Another swift swing through the humidity.
Only a few seconds left to think of a logical response.
Tom froze, but he glanced up at you and relaxed his shoulders, “Grapes?”
“Yeah, it’s Italy. There are a lot of grape farms here… for many purposes.”
He lifted his unkempt eyebrow, “Forget what I said about my agent earlier because that’s some of the worst acting I’ve seen.” Tom jeered, playfully swinging his club with his right hand.
You acted offended, “I’m serious, they’re investors in grapes.” You tried to keep it together, but your smile cracked through with laughter.
“Yeah... and I’m friends with Paddington.”
“I just think they’re the best. They gave me a great life and I appreciate it everyday.” You confidently spoke, but it was a forced response. You were expected to speak highly of them, no matter who you were with or where, unable to vent about the cage you felt locked in all these years, “What about your parents? Do you see them a lot?”
Tom, a bit surprised from your curiosity, nodded, “When I get to go home between movies or whatever I’m doing. I get to see my dog, Tess, and have dinner with them and we all catch each other up on what’s going on in our lives. My brother usually comes with me on these trips though…” He replied, but cut himself off. He knew if he went on a tangent about his home life, it would make him emotional, “But, Harrison is a good second.” He jokingly followed.
“Your parents must have trusted you a lot… you know, to become an actor.” You suggested.
“It wasn’t their ideal career path for me, but things turned out my way and they were right behind me for all of it… and while some people call it amateur.” He chuckled, eyeing you, “I think I’m just getting started.”
Suddenly, you were envious of the support he had when you didn’t think much of him, well, until right now. Your lips twisted, masking your feelings that wanted to paint on your face.
“I’m sorry… for about the things I said when we first met. It wasn’t very kind of me.” You admitted, pride diminishing away yet it felt nice to be honest.
He grinned, “Is that sincerity I sense?”
“You’ve proven you’re more than just a pretty, British face, I guess.”
“And you’ve proven you’re more than just a dainty princess on her high horse.”
You weren’t sure if he knew by this point, but you didn’t care. He was treating you like the way you wanted to all this time-- just a normal girl.
It was the first time the two of you shared a genuine smile, even a light pink tint on his cheeks. Butterflies filled your stomach, fluttery feelings from your heart traveling to your throat. Different from the nervousness inside before you had to present yourself to a room or for Tom, when he was being interviewed with a crowd.
His cheeks tinted light pink, rubbing the back of his neck before moving the club to bring another ball in front of his feet. Tom hit another swift swing, a satisfying ‘swoosh’ brushing your ear and the two of you watched the ball fly high into the sky. The twilight outlined his sharp jaw and the rest of his face, like a perfect silhouette profile carved in the yellow moon. You bit the inside of your cheek, but once he looked over, you quickly turned your head to pretend to look for the ball.
You cleared your throat, “I’m thirsty, is there any water in the cart?” You asked, fanning your hand by your face.
Tom lifted the top of the backseat, opening a compartment filled with a blanket, a champagne bottle, clean glasses and a box of Italian chocolates wrapped in silk, silver bow. He cocked his eyebrows, squinting his eyes as he read the labels on the food and attempted to translate them.
A few seconds went by, but Tom was still leaning down into the backseat which made you curious.
“What’s going on?” You asked, setting the club down and walking over with his back still turned.
As you glanced leaned over his shoulder, Tom smirked, “Are you sure you don’t want to be Wade and Rachel tonight?”
You laid a few feet from Tom on the soft blanket, both of you laying on your backs and looking directly into the midnight abyss glittered with stars. After finishing half the bottle of wine while eating chocolates in between, fatigue set in as well as beautiful scenery you didn’t get to see often from your room.
“And that kind of looks like… a cow.” You smiled, squinting your left eye to see clearly to the alignment of stars.
“It looks more like a balloon with legs.” Tom teased.
You giggled, buzzed from the wine and a heaviness weighing on your eyes. Tom’s jaw was sore from how much he smiled, rubbing his hands against his face to stay awake then over his fresh buzzcut. A night hadn’t been this relaxing since he left home, trying to adjust to a new set, a new location and especially adjust to another new schedule.
Turning his head, he watched your eyes flutter and lazy grin.
“Have you ever thought about how there are millions and billions of people in this world… and we all get to look at the same moon, the same stars… but we all live different lives. You never know who you’re gonna cross paths with and you never know who is out there for you, but looking at the stars?... it’s like no matter where you are, you just have to look up and you share the same view.” You trailed, the words leaving your mouth like it was a poem.
“Huh, I’ve never thought about it like that…” Tom admitted, admiring the galaxy even more, “It’s a more beautiful way to put it than thinking stars are big balls of gas.”
You giggled, playfully smacking his shoulder before you rolled on your side to face him. Tom turned his head to meet your gaze, those bright brown eyes gleaming as a soft smile curled on the corners of his mouth. Freckles kissed along his crooked nose bridge, just like the stars in how they were scattered along his warm skin.
“I’m sorry this night hasn’t been perfect.” Tom trailed.
“What are you talking about? This is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
Tom narrowed his eyes, “Was that sarcastic?”
You chuckled, nodding, “No, no… I really mean it. I’ve never really been able to go out like this and get to do whatever I do or want. I get to live in such a beautiful country with so much to offer, but I haven’t seen most of it.”
He leans on his elbow, supporting his head as he puts his hand against it, “Like where?”
“Rome… I’ve always wanted to go there, but my parents say it’s too dangerou and littered with thieves and tourists.” You turned your head back to the night sky, “But, I don’t care, I think if I went there, I would stay there forever.”
Tom shrugged, “Why don’t we go then?”
Your eyes widened, leaning on your elbows to crunch up, “What?”
“Yeah, today… technically since it’s almost 4 A.M.”
“What?! Oh, no!” You quickly stood up, “It’s that late? I have to get back!” You groaned, picking up the sneakers by the end of the blanket.
“Hey! Hey, woah, it’s fine. It’s okay.” Tom tried to relax you, but you ran your hands over your hair, practically hearing your heartbeat.
“No, no, I shouldn’t have left with you.” You retorted out of frustration.
“Don’t blame this on me, I was trying to protect you from the crazy guys with cameras.” Tom spat back.
“Yeah, well I’m surprised you didn’t pose in front of them to get your new headline, “Tom Holland seen with another girl who’s completely in love with him.” You rolled your eyes.
“Oh, back to this now. If you’re gonna make fun of me, at least come up with a new act.” Tom, very childishly, replied back with his arms crossed.
Before you could give him another comeback, a bright flashlight shined on both of you.
“Hey! This is private property!” A loud voice echoed from feet away. The light swayed back and forth over your bodies before you turned to Tom.
“What do we do? Run?” You huffed, exchanging a look with Tom.
He began to back away, “You said you wanted to go to Rome, right?”
He took your hand, pulling you behind him and you both were bursting with laughter as you continued to sprint down the field. There were no lights to guide your way, but your feet were running faster than your mind could think. Careless and reckless, the two of you ran down the small hill where a sidewalk wrapped around at the bottom. As Tom gracefully stopped, he caught you in his arms from tumbling. Your whole body felt on fire, the spark igniting from the heart and pumping on adrenaline with your walls completely down. Tom gently swung you around, your feet barely off the ground and your arms coiled around his neck before you both took off once more.
“You okay?” Tom huffed, chuckling while catching his breath.
“Never better.” You gulped.
The sweat on both your foreheads glistened, your clothes littered with dirt and grass stains and Tom’s white socks— not so white anymore. Both of you could say a lot, but all you could do was laugh and erupt in giggles at your escape route.
“Do you think people will give us money if we beg?”
“Well, at least people won’t think you’re famous.” You smiled.
While you should have been defeated, there was an infectious happiness beaming from the chase and now you were somewhere you didn’t know. On any other day, you would seek help and protest that you are a priority, but it felt nice to be a stranger. A nobody.
You moved your thumb against the dirt on his cheek, watching him crack a heavenly smile again.
Tom blushed, “Now, let’s find the train station.” He said as he started walking one way, but your feet felt as if they had weights on them.
He turned, “I assume if we go one way or another, we’ll see a sign somewhere.” Tom chuckled until noticing the frozen, doe-eyed stare you suddenly had painted on, “What’s wrong?”
“I-I don’t think I can do it.” You timidly spoke.
“And why is that?” Tom strolled back over to you.
“Because… I…” You sighed, but you held back the words.
“Because you’re scared? Tom cocked his wild eyebrow.
You scoffed, “I’m not scared.” You protested as you crossed your arms.
“Remind me again, the most dangerous and crazy thing you’ve done is ride a horse… side saddle.” He hummed and you concealed your smile as you playfully shoved him.
“There’s a difference between getting on a horse and going miles away to a place that I’ve never been to before… what if it’s not what I pictured and it’s a waste?” You said, but deep down your heart wouldn’t have uttered it.
Tom nodded, “You won’t know until you find out…” He knew you were scared, but Tom hoped you had gained some courage throughout the night, “I promise, I’ll be right next to you the whole time. We’ll see all of Rome together.”
Like a prince, he held his hand out for you to hold. His eyes were glassy as they gazed into yours, wondering if you would fall in or get out while you could.
You rolled your eyes, placing your hand in his and giving it a quick squeeze.
“If we get lost, I swear-”
“You swear what? All of your parents grapes?” He jeered.
Once more, you shoved him and Tom quickly regained his balance to walk by your side.
The streets were empty, no one up this early except women hanging their laundry on clotheslines outside their apartments and the birds flying into the sunrise. Both of you were able to brush some of the dirt off of you, but not enough that you didn’t look like you came from working on a farm. Even though you were closer to the center of Venice, you still didn’t know where the train station. For the past half-hour, you were cutting through alleys and walking by canals, aimlessly walking around a neighborhood where everyone was still sleeping.
“Okay, I need to take a break.” You groaned, stopping your pace and sitting by the canal. You swung your feet over the edge, looking down at the blue-green water.
Tom huffed, sitting next to you with his feet hung over then laying his back against the cool cement.
“Didn’t we already walk through here… I think I remember that boat… right?” You tried to reassure yourself.
“I think it’s the mix of being lost and restless that makes us feel like we’re going in circles.” Tom huffed, running his hands down his face.
“Maybe we should just try to find out way back to the hotel, Del is probably going crazy.” You mumbled, your eyes fluttering as you tried to keep your head up.
Tom shot back up, “We’re not giving up, this is your dream.”
“I want to actually dream, right now, like falling asleep dreaming.” You pouted, leaning your head on his shoulder. He furrowed his eyebrows, but half-smiled before gently patting the top of your thigh.
You thought all was going to waste until you heard, “Excuse me.”
It was spoken softly, and the two of you turned to see a little girl with big, brown curls by the dock.
“Lost?” She asked, her big and jade.
“Yes, yes. We’re lost. Can you help you?” You quickly stood up.
Suddenly her eyes sparkled, as if she looked straight at the moon and her mouth slowly gapped.
“Sofia!” A deeper voice echoed from the apartment behind you.
You and Tom stand up quickly, trying to look presentable but that was near impossible with how dirty you looked and Tom not wearing shoes. He ran his hand over his buzzcut before the tall man came out, his hair black as a crow and his shoulders broad.
“Papa, they’re lost.” His daughter told him, pulling the end of his untucked shirt.
“Lost?” He chuckled, “No better place to be lost, right?”
You both chuckled, but the man started to furrow his bushy brows, “You two uh- look familiar. Do we know each other?” He genuinely asked as he squinted.
“No, no, I’m Wade. This is my wife, Rachel. Were here celebrating our wedding anniversary.” Tom quickly spat out, a lingering smile as he put his hand out to shake.
“Congratulations. I’m Leo, this is my daughter, Sofia.” He grinned, his daughter hiding behind his leg. “But, you two look like you’ve had a long night. Are you alright? Should I call someone?” He followed up.
You nodded, “No, no, we’re just looking to get to the train. We’re going to Rome.” You smiled, linking your arm with Tom’s and putting on the same act.
“Hmm, it takes too long by car, but I could take you by boat.”
With widen eyes, the two of you protested by nodding your heads.
“No, no, you don’t have to do that, sir.” Tom insisted.
“No offense, but you two look like you’ve been through.. Well, hell. C’mon, I throw in a free boat ride for the honeymoon couple… but, if you want some shoes, that will cost you.” Leo joked, patting Tom’s shoulder.
You couldn’t help but giggle, glancing at Sofia as she smiled too with dimples in her cheeks.
“You’ve got a deal, mate.” Tom jeered back.
Tom and Leo boarded first, then Sofia before you stepped foot on the dock. As Leo got the boat ready to leave, Tom gave you his hand and you placed your hand on top as you stepped onto the platform.
“Thank you, Wade.”
“The pleasure is always mine, Rachel.”
Both of you sat at the front of the boat with a blanket over your shoulders, people watching as you cruised down the canal. The air wasn’t too thick like some mornings, the humidity overbearing, but there was a light breeze crossing through and it made everyone open their windows for the start of their mornings. You were tender with Tom, nudging your chin against his shoulder as the two of you looked around and pointed out different people or things you saw along the way.
A few minutes later, you docked and Tom helped Leo tie down the ropes. With a pair of worn-out boots, Tom instantly felt relief in his feet and they seemed to fit perfectly with his luck. Tom pulled you up with his strength, spinning you around to make sure you were safely on the dock.
“Hey, thanks again for the ride and the boots.” Tom pulled Leo in for a quick side hug.
“No need to thank, but I hope you two enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.” He smiled, patting Tom’s back.
“Thank you.” You grinned, nodding your head.
Sofia sat where you and Tom previously did, but after Leo untied the boat, she shared a glance with you. As Tom muttered which way you should head, you gave her a quick wave, but she stood up and gestured a quick curtsy. A small smile curled on your lips, giving a small bow of your head toward her before they turned around in the canal.
“Let’s go… this way.” Tom suggested, already holding your hand to guide.
In the center of the train station, the big clock read 5:06A.M. as seagulls flew behind it with a pink and orange tint to the sky. Pigeons littered around, pecking at the cobblestones and trailing the people walking by them.
Tom approached the ticket booth, taking his wallet out and sliding his card through the small slot to the seller behind the window. He was surprised how far he’s gotten without being recognized, but it was hard to spot him with the new look instead of his usual curls.
The train came just as you received the tickets, both of you walking behind a group of tourists to board it. Air conditioning refreshed you as you stepped on, finding seats toward the middle before anyone came that way. Huge sighs of relief left your mouths, the pain in your swollen feet soothing and your backs laid against the soft cushions.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you, people passing through the train to sit down and get situated. For a split second, you could catch your breath and the adrenaline pumping through your veins was thinning out now that your whole body was relaxed. You glanced out the window, people strolling or running past either way, and you noticed an older man, holding a bouquet of flowers, sitting on the bench in the center of the walkway. As a woman approached him, he stood up and embraced her so much that his hat fell off. Another couple, younger-looking, were pushing their baby in a stroller, sauntering past two men hugging as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. You smiled, watching everyone’s story unfold in front of you, making you intertwine your fingers with Tom’s on his lap.
He glanced over your shoulder, “What are you looking at?”
“Just people… everyone looks so happy this early.”
“I don’t wake up this early to know.” Tom joked, stretching his back and shoulders.
You faced his direction, that endearing smile on his face before asked, “So… what’s the movie you’re filming here anyways?”
Tom humored with a chuckle, “Ah, now we’re at the point of the date where we ask the personal questions.”
“You considered this a date?” You asked, tilting your head.
Tom nodded, “I mean, we got chased away from paparazzi, got fake married and now we’re on a train to Rome… what’s your idea of a date?”
“All of that… and if you bought me dinner.” You jeered.
“If I wasn’t under the impression that you hated me when we met, maybe I would have considered it.” Tom shrugged.
“Well, now I just hate you a little less.” You told, the corner of your mouth turned up.
He grinned, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As you shared a deep look into each other’s eyes, you leaned in and your lips brushed against one another’s before you pressed them on his. Tom, taken by surprised, moved in and his fingers intertwined with yours and held together like velcro. The kiss lasted longer than either of you intended, tender and sweet, as your lips moved together one last time. There was a hesitation to pull away, enjoying the sweet taste of each other as your nose lightly brushed against his. You lazily smiled, resting your weary head against his shoulder and your eyes fluttering shut.
tags/tag list: @dhtomholland @t-lostinworlds @duskholland @worldoftom @rosyparkers @tomhollandsgirlfriend @dilfcolbert @veryholland @hollandvibesss @thecodyexpress @littlebookbengal @annathesillyfriend @softholand @spideypqrker <3 <3 <3
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I also am going to break neutrality now that the survey is over to say that the vehemence of feeling against the CR Content Warning project surprised me, and I think ignoring it - even if you support this project - is foolish and self-serving at best and dangerous at worst.
I don't regularly use content warnings (I approve of them in concept, but they're not something I use); my own mental health stuff is not particularly influenced by media/triggers. There are things I strongly dislike and that make me uncomfortable but those tend to either not apply in most D&D (I just like...don't really watch horror) or are actually easier for me if they just happen such that I can move on as I get fixated on "oh fuck when will Bad Thing happen" (this is also why I'm spoiler-averse). So I've personally tried to stay in my lane.
The Content Warning project has virtually no oversight. People have made edits that were probably well-meaning but were actually quite offensive (eg: an edit indicating Golems, as a concept, were triggering because of cultural appropriation from Judaism, which gets things wrong on several levels and is pretty fucking offensive to me as a Jewish person). There are conflicting attempts to be incredibly granular beyond any actual play content warnings I've ever seen, but also to avoid spoilers. They don't seem to value mental health triggers at the same level as physical violence triggers despite the latter being a ubiquitous characteristic of most D&D. They have claimed to have been working on alternate hosting but there has been literally no progress in the eight months since it began - even though it is free and easy to create your own wiki.
That said, what is most concerning to me is the outpouring of feedback on this project on a survey about the wiki. The CR CW project is a tiny piece of the wiki and easy to avoid. And yet, in the original survey, which did not mention it at all, enough people brought it up as a problem for me to follow up. In the follow-up survey, which included two other pretty significant topics, overwhelmingly the feedback people took the effort to write out extensively was about this project, and specifically that they had attempted to provide feedback and were not only ignored but belittled.
I will be clear: the wiki cannot shut down this project entirely, just remove it from the wiki. I deliberately did not ask for further opinions on the CR CW project on the follow-up beyond "should it be removed" because the wiki cannot do anything but remove it and so those feelings, while valid, are not strictly relevant. But there was a massive influx of comments expressing frustration with the CR CW project in any free text box available. I am fairly sure it's because the Content Warning project is outright hostile towards people who provide constructive feedback and those with concerns were just glad that someone, anyone, was permitting them a space to air these grievances. And for that, the CR CW project should be utterly mortified at their total failure to serve the community.
I will be advocating in the strongest terms for removing it from the wiki (I'm waiting until post-Thanksgiving to ensure it doesn't get lost over the holiday) and I will let people know here so that they can comment on the wiki at this time. If you are interested in getting it removed I strongly recommend you take to the wiki or the wiki discord to ensure administrators see the fandom's concerns in detail, and I am happy to help guide people through this process.
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Sunday Morning Shave
Summary: I got the idea from this post and it’s been on my mind ever since.
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader
Word Count: 762
Warnings: just a razor blade
A/n: I have been thinking about this idea for a long fucking time and finally decided to do something with it. I was orginially going to do Alfie instead but I don’t think he’d ever shave and I like him with a beard anyway, so that wouldn’t work. But here this is and I love it! Domestic Tommy is my shit right now and I’m not even ashamed.
Carefully, Y/n cupped Tommy’s face, trying to hold him as still as possible, afraid she’d cut him. Holding her breath, she brought the razor against his skin, careful not to nick him, as the blade made contact with the stubble that had been allowed to grow out.
It was a bright Sunday morning, much nicer than the day before. The aftermath of the rainstorm could be seen out on the lawn with leaves scattered everywhere. Y/n had peered outside, scared her flowers had been destroyed, to see they had somehow survived the night. With it being the Lord’s day, Tommy saw in point in going to the office, no one would be taking his calls, he said. But Y/n knew he was avoiding work as he’d been home for five straight days, a rarity for her, and she could tell he was dreading going back to the office the following day.
In those five days, Tommy acted like he was on holiday, perhaps he was, and allowed himself to unwind. He steered clear of his office, spending most of his time in the stables or helping Y/n garden, which he was surprisingly good at. There were a few times that Y/n found him in the library with a book in his hand and once she caught him stealing a few cookies from the kitchen. Though, he insisted since he owned the house and paid the cooks that the cookies were his to begin with.
Sunday began just like all the other days: peacefully. The two had woken up early, too used to having to be up before the sun to be able to sleep in, and just laid in each other’s arms. They only left the warmth of the bed when Y/n leaned up to kiss the man, his stubble scratching her in the process. In those five days he’d been home, Tommy allowed the shadows of a beard to grow out, which Y/n was forced to put up with. But she refused to do so any longer.
And that is how the pair ended up in the bathroom, Y/n sitting on the porcelain countertop with Tommy standing between her legs, both afraid of the damage she could do with the razor blade.
“Would ya let me do that?” Tommy insisted for the hundredth time, afraid she’d nick an artery. He didn’t want his enemies to read in the paper that he died from a shaving accident. Oh, the humiliation of that was one he dared not to think of as he stared down the blade in her hand.
Y/n shook her head as she continued her work. If he held still like he’d been told, she knew there’d be no issue, but Thomas Shelby wasn’t one to do that.
Tommy huffed, eyes flicking between the blade and her face. He could tell she was in deep thought, which scared him a little, but he found it rather adorable once he ignored the sharp object in her hand. There was a glow in her eyes as she scanned her work, maybe pride, maybe not, but it enticed him. Moving his hands from the lip of the counter, he placed them on her waist, gently pulling her closer so she had better access. “Don’t you think I’d be handsome with a beard?”
“Maybe, but we’re not going to find out,” she answered, meeting his eyes for a fleeting second before going back to her work.
“You like Alfie’s beard,” he stated, remembering when she’d confessed that. He assumed she’d meant to keep that information to herself, but it slipped out and he refused to let it go. “Why can’t I give it a try?”
The woman huffed, irritated that her work was being interrupted. If he kept the talking up, she was sure he’d have a nice cut on his cheek. “Yes, I like Alfie’s beard, but that doesn’t mean you need one,” she said, setting the razor on the counter as she leaned her forehead against his. “And if you grew a beard, I can assure you, Mr. Shelby, that you would not be getting any kisses from me,” she breathed with a smirk before capturing his lips between hers.
Before Tommy was given time to deepen the kiss, Y/n pulled away, the razor back in her hand. The man pouted but allowed her to continue. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear,” he grumbled.
Y/n snickered, “That’s the idea. Now quiet talking before I do some real damage.”
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Diamonds | D.M.
Request: i think u should totally do a fic based on the headcanon of draco fucking the reader in the black/malfoy family heirlooms
Warnings: Mentions of blood (pricking of a finger), the princess diaries, swearing, smut, Draco has a huge dick
Word Count: 2,487
A/N: So I got a little carried away with the banter and the the smut got thrown in so I kinda hate it but you know what, I would love for Draco to cover me in diamonds and fuck me in them so whatever
“Draco, I don’t think we should be down here.”
What you had expected to be another day at your boyfriend’s house during the school holidays had ended up turning into something out of a horror film.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
He had his wand held out infront of him, illuminating the hallway ahead, his other hand was gripped tightly in yours. You had practically wrapped your entire body around his left arm as he led you into the basement of Malfoy Manor, claiming there was something down there to show you.
“You don’t want to know my answer right now. Remind me again, why aren’t we shagging on your bed right now?”
“That comes later, don’t worry love.”
He continues leading you down the cold path until he stops in front of a stone wall.
He lets go of your hand, and you wince as pricks his finger with a pin, dropping a bead of blood onto his signet ring before pressing the ring against the wall.
“What kind of pureblood ritual are you having us perform right now, I swear to god Malfo-”
The words fell out of your mouth as the stone wall opened revealing what could only be described as a treasure vault.
“Draco, I knew you were rich, but you could be the bloody King of England with this vault. What the actual fuck.” Draco’s arrogant face said it all, rich fuck.
You tentatively followed him in, eyes catching on every sparkling piece of jewellery in the room, too scared to get close to anything in fear of you accidentally touching anything you’re not supposed to.
You’d be scared to touch anything this expensive normally, but with the extra worry of blood magic and curses, you were even less enthusiastic to do so.
“We have our assets spread out across 28 properties around the world as well as the bank vaults of each major city in those countries.”
“Draco, as much as I love knowing I’m poor, why are we here? You can't have brought me down here just to show this off to me?”
“Well I want you to know what you’ll be marrying into, but no. There’s something I want to do.” Your cheeks flushed with warmth as he brought up marrying you. You were still at Hogwarts albeit in your last year but neither of you had even brought up anything post school yet, yet he had said it so casually as if it was obvious you were it for each other. And perhaps you were.
He moves around the room, hands picking up priceless jewels as if he were in Tesco’s choosing the best meal deal. [a/n: Tesco’s is a supermarket (like Target?)]
You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, taking your time to look around the vault that looked more like Mia’s closet from The Princess Diaries; eyes scanning over each and every draw.
Your eyes landed on the settee, the golden legs making you wonder if it was actual gold (it was) before moving to the mirror across from it, which was feck off huge, almost reaching the ceiling.
Draco made his way over to you, and you cringed as he dropped handfuls of diamonds onto the glass table beside you. You could sneak off with one, he’d never know, and you’d never have to work a day in your life again.
“What now? Here?” As surprised as you were, you couldn’t stop the jolt of arousal that ran through your body and straight to your core at his tone.
“Ah is it cold? I’ll shut the door.”
Your jaw dropped as he cast a quick spell, promptly turning back and unbuttoning your top for you when you didn’t move to do so yourself.
Stepping out of your skirt and underwear, Draco’s warm fingers unclasped your bra, throwing it onto the velvet (of course it was fucking velvet) settee behind you. You followed his eyes as they cast up and down your body, stopping at your glistening cunt and perky nipples.
“Are you going to take off your clothes as well or is this some weird kink of yours?”
“They’ll come off later, just be a good girl for me okay?”
You didn’t have time to ask what he meant before he started draping you in diamond and gold. First, he slid 3 rings onto your fingers, two on your left ring finger (oddly resembling wedding bands) and another onto your right middle finger. Each heavier than expected.
Next came a diamond bracelet that he clasped ever so casually around your wrist, a matching one on the other. Two diamond earrings came after, hooking through your piercings quicker than you had ever managed, not used to the weight on your ears.
Then the extortionate necklace came next. It was truly something you’d expect to see in the vaults of the royal family and not on your neck. You watched him carefully prick his finger again (how much was this thing worth to need blood magic to secure?) before draping it around your neck. You shivered as cool stones and precious metals touched your warm skin.
You were wearing more than England was worth in diamonds and it wasn’t enough for him?
“Is that a fucking diadem?”
“Probably? I think Mary Queen of Scots gave it to a Malfoy back in the day. I stopped listening around the Tudors, but you could always ask my mother.”
He gently slid the gold diadem into your hair, rearranging it until he was satisfied.
“Looks better on you than it ever did on her.”
You scoffed but didn’t rebut him, you were butt naked, the Queen of Scotland probably wasn’t in her paintings.
“So have I come here to be your naked dress up doll?”
He just laughed, hands running down the largest diamond on the necklace before pinching at one of your nipples. A moan tumbled out of your mouth at the contact and you realised then what his intentions were.
As if he could see the realisation in your eyes, he started stripping himself, eyes focused on each curve of your body.
His hands pushed lightly at your shoulders, causing you to fall back onto the settee behind you, your hands instinctively reaching up to stop the priceless jewel from falling off your head, surprised when they didn’t move at all.
“I’ve charmed them not to move don’t worry, I don’t know how I’d explain to mother I broke her favourite jewels whilst fucking you.”
He picks you up, settling you back down onto his lap as his lips meet yours. Now this you were accustomed to. You focused on the way his mouth felt on yours, warm and familiar, a contrast to the heavy and cold heirlooms all over your body.
For all his talk about fucking you, he was taking his time savouring your kisses, languidly kissing your mouth with none of his usual urgency when you were sat naked on his lap.
His hands remained on your hips, your own cupped his jaw, his hot and heavy cock pressed up against your stomach but neither of you moved.
It wasn’t long though before his tongue slid into your mouth and your hips instinctively bucked against his, causing your wet heat to make direct contact with his hard erection. Draco kept swallowing your moans as you ground against him, as if starving from your kisses.
You bit your lip nervously, usually you were happy to let Draco take control, preferred it even, but he made everything comfortable in a way you couldn’t describe.
Reaching a hand between your bodies, your heavy fingers wrapped around his dripping cock, careful to not let the sharp edges of the diamonds catch on his sensitive skin as you worked him with both hands to cover all of him. Your eyes are fixed on the swollen tip, leaking precum that your fingers gather and use to make the movements easier.
Just as you were about to drop to your knees to put as much of him as you could fit in his mouth, one of his hands leave your hips to the aching core between your legs. His thumb rubbed circles into your sensitive bud as he swiped two fingers across your wet cunt, collecting your slick before sliding them both into your tight walls.
Your hands continued their ministrations throughout, squeezing him tighter with each curl of his fingers inside of you. You felt the coil inside start to build as your hips ground against the movements of his hand, twisting your hands faster trying to get him to the same place as you.
You weren’t close but you were well on your way and now frustrated. “As much as I love to see you come on my fingers alone, I draped you in the Black jewels for a reason love. Turn around.”
You gave him one final squeeze before turning in his lap, your back to his chest as you stared at yourself in the mirror directly across from you. It was you staring back in the reflection but something about the diamonds across your skin and way Draco had worked you up made you feel something else.
It was confidence you realised.
You felt good.
You raised your hips to let Draco align himself with you, coating himself in your slick from your cunt and what was left on his fingers. You watched as the weeping tip nudged your entrance ever so lightly before you started dropping your hips down to push him inside. You felt your walls stretch to accommodate him; it had taken weeks to train your cunt to take him to the hilt but each day since had been so worth it.
You watched Draco’s own ring clad hands leave his cock and rest on your waist just above your hips, helping you to sit on him fully. Your own hands travelled across your body, running across where the diamonds sat across your collar bones to your perked nipples, sensitive and neglected by Draco’s hands. Your pinched the both of them and moaned, watching the glint of the rings shine in the mirror. You had underestimated just how sensitive they were and subconsciously clenched down on Draco causing him to buck up and force the remaining inches into you until he was seated to the hilt.
“You take me so well darling.” He cooed, your cunt fluttering around him as he did so.
Your back arched, eyes leaving the mirror to look up at the ceiling and finding that to be a mirror too. “I see why you brought me in here.”
“Believe me, I wanted to bring you in much sooner, but I need a good excuse to explain to mother why I need access to her vault.”
“Can we not talk about your mother whilst you’re inside of me?”
You felt him cringe into you’re the back of your neck.
“Sorry love, are you okay?”
You rotated your hips slightly, satisfied when the usual burn didn’t appear, that you just felt deliciously full.
“God, I love being so full of you, it’s like my cunt was made be filled by your cock.”
You felt him twitch inside of you and you couldn’t blame him; you usually weren’t so forward with your words, but you just couldn’t help yourself.
You leant forward again, one hand massaging your breast, the other on the arm of the settee to give yourself leverage to bounce on Draco’s lap.
“God, Draco. Please-”
It was all incoherent moans that fell from your mouth as you tried form words and sentences that described how good and full you felt.
You couldn’t tear your eyes from the imagine reflected to you in the mirror, the sight of your eyes blown wide in arousal; the way you forced yourself to take on Draco’s cock with every bounce, your legs wide to accommodate him.
“Look at yourself taking my cock like a good girl. You’re doing so well, love.”
You were too far gone to register his words. You were too busy admiring the way his hands gripped your waist, fingers digging into your waist in a way you knew would leave bruises the next day; the way the precious stones would bounce with each movement and the way Draco was wrapped around you. You were ridding him, you were in control but there was something about the way Draco was just languidly sat with you bouncing on his dick, covered in his inheritance that had your hips stuttering and thighs burning.
“I knew you’d look so good covered in my family’s jewels. This is just a taste darling; I’ll fuck you in all our vaults and drape you in only the jewellery that’s worth enough to put on your pretty skin.”
Your thighs tried to clench shut but Draco’s hands dragged them apart to continue thrusting into your sensitive cunt. Waves of pleasure ran over your body as you fell back against his chest, letting him fuck you the way he knew would have you both coming in seconds. He was everywhere, hands running over your body, squeezing and pinching at the tensed skin, lips sucking, licking and biting whatever part of your neck he could reach and his cock still forcing your cunt to take him as deep as he could go.
One of his hands joined his lips at your neck, tugging on the necklace as if it wasn’t worth more than a country; the other starting to pinch and twist at the sensitive bundle of nerves right above where you were connected, using the liquids that leaked out of you to help.
“Can you come for me darling?”
Each orgasm Draco gave you was euphoric, but you could easily say this was the best yet. Any other time you would’ve been embarrassed over the fact it only took Draco telling you to come for you to do so but you were too blissed out to care. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, white hot pleasure blurring your vision as you came around him. Your hips stuttered, trying to get away from him due to the oversensitivity whilst at the same time trying to get closer and ride out your orgasm.
His fingers and hips didn’t stop, thrusting into your abused hole until he was cumming himself, fingers instinctively twisting on your swollen bud that caused another wave of aftershocks to run through your body causing you to clench tighter around his pulsing cock, feeling his cum slide out of you and onto the soft fabric under you.
“You were right.”
Draco hummed in response, still only just recovering from his high.
“You should trust my brilliant ideas more.”
“Your dad walked in on us the last time that happened.”
“Why the fuck would you bring that up-”
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Prompt: Wake Me Up Before You GoGo by WHAM!
Pairing: Tony Stark x GN!Reader
Requested by: @embersparks13
AN: To celebrate the start of the holiday season, I’m going tobe posting a series of one shots today! I hope you enjoy them. Here is number 1!
“Tony. I’m home! And I brought food. Mainly because I didn’t feel like cooking tonight and partially because I was really craving Thai food.”
You’re greeted by silence. And that . . . is unusual. Tony is usually waiting for you on the other side of the door when you come home. Kind of like a labrador. You shrug it off. Sometimes he gets caught up in whatever he’s doing in the lab. So you set the food down on the counter and head down to get him.
You frown when Jarvis doesn’t immediately grant you access. Now you’re starting to understand. He’s upset about something. You punch in the override code, and roll your eyes as ACDC starts assaulting your ears. You reach the bottom of the stairs and find your boyfriend tinkering with one of his cars.
You wince, because that means he’s really upset about something. Usually his projects are much more high tech these days. He only works on the cars or restores them when he needs something simple and mindless to do. You scoff silently, because only Tony would find intricate mechanic work mindless.
You wait until he’s done with the blowtorch to call his name. He ignores you the first two times. He doesn’t on the third, “I’m sorry were you talking to me?”
“Apparently not, because my boyfriend is a whole grown ass man, and the person before me is a petulant child.”
“That’s not fair.”
You roll your eyes and bend down to take your shoes off, “You locked me out of the lab.”
“You got in.”
“You weren’t waiting for me to get home.”
“I had things to do. Important things.”
“You ignored me when I called your name.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“You won’t look at me.”
“That spot on the ceiling might be water damage, I should really check that out.”
Your hands go to your hips, “All of that adds up to a petulant toddler throwing a tantrum. What’s going on Tony?”
“It’s nothing. What did you need?” His tone is cold and dismissive. You’re not okay with it.
Your eyes narrow, “I picked up food from our favorite Thai place. It’s on the counter if you want it.” With that you turn on your heel and leave. Your hunger from earlier is gone. You leave your food behind and go to take a shower. You make sure to lock the door so Tony can’t get in.
You stay in the shower until you’re pruny. Then you take your time going through your skin and hair routine. When that’s done you wrap a towel around you and head out to the room. Sure enough, Tony is there, sitting on the bed, with his food.
His eyes follow you as you walk across the room and pull out leggings and one of his t shirts. You drop the towel and change. You’ve just pulled your shirt over your head when he asks, “Do you want a bite?”
“Depends, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
You turn to face him, and watch as he chews his bite of food, “A mixture of a bad attitude, trauma, and misplaced anger.” You raise an eyebrow and he shrugs, “Called my therapist while you were in the shower. The water bill is going to be huge this month. I mean, we’re probably going to have to off set it by taking shower together for the rest of the month.”
You’re able to keep from laughing, but your lips still quirk up, “Maybe. If you tell me the cause of all this turmoil.”
He sighs, “It’s stupid.”
“I still want to know.”
He sets the food to the side, “You didn’t wake me up to kiss me goodbye this morning.”
You blink several times, “I left super early this morning. Like four am early Tony. And you didn’t get to bed until late. I wanted to let you sleep.”
“Logically. I know that. But the insane part of me, woke up in a panic because you weren’t in bed. I was scared that someone had kidnapped you, until I realized you had just gone to work. And then I hated that it was even a possibility that Hydra could take you from me. I got scared. And then I hated myself. And I turned that anger against you. I’m sorry. My therapist is bringing me in for an extra session this week.”
You move to him. You settle your hands on his shoulders and he tilts his head up at you. You lean down and kiss him. He responds, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you down on top of him with a laugh. Miraculously the food doesn’t spill as the two of you roll around.
You end up curled up together and you say, “I promise to wake you up and kiss you goodbye always from now on.”
“I appreciate that. I like those kisses. They put me in a good mood for the rest of the day.”
“That’s what puts you in a good mood?”
“Ohhh yeah. I think it’s because of WHAM! Ya know, wake me up before you agogo?”
“Tony. You hate WHAM! You used your mom’s WHAM! CD as a coaster for years.”
“Yeah. But they helped me make a point. SO they’re slightly less hated now.”
You just laugh, as Tony goes in for a series of kisses, intent on making up for the lossed kiss with interest.
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an open letter to tgc.
(aka, this wouldn’t fit in the discord character limit lmao)
I’d like to preface this by saying that I’ve been a fan of TGC for a while now, since Journey in 2012. I’ve had a huge appreciation for the effort that goes into your work - it’s honestly changed my life, and I do not say that for the sake of saying it. Truly, thank you.
However, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend with recent updates to Sky: CotL, and one that suggests an underlying issue that really concerns me. Based on what I’ve seen around I’m not the only one a little worried, so I figured I’d send something like this for the first time - I’d like to at least get it off my chest, because I have a great deal of respect for this company. If I didn’t, I’d just walk away.
I don’t think you’re at all in touch with the desires of your playerbase. In fact, I think you think you know what we want more than we do. Furthermore, it’s beginning to feel like you think we’re… stupid, for lack of a better word? Oblivious, at the very least. It’s infantilizing.
For me, it started with the whole TS debacle a while back - where you just so happened to bring back the two highest demand spirits right alongside an extremely limited high-demand 200 candle item. It would be clear to anyone looking in that this was a deliberate push to candle sales, but you still insist to this day that the TS is randomized. I found out after I made a post expressing my frustration (thinking that this was a unique case) that there are people out there who have been reliably predicting the TS for some time now, with an accuracy that would not be possible if the TS was truly random. It’s just… such a silly thing to lie about. I suppose it takes some heat off of you when people don’t get the TS they want, and it allows you to schedule expensive or desired TS at opportune times to push sales without scrutiny, but it comes at the cost of the trust of players who find out - which, to me, does not seem like a good deal. Trust is infinitely more costly than community contentment.
Next was the AFK timer. You did, at the very least, beta test it, and put it back in your pocket when people weren’t happy… but then you quietly added it into the main game later despite the backlash. Candle taxi-ing wasn’t completely killed, but it did put a significant limit on it, and for what purpose? Because people weren’t playing your game how you wanted them to? Because it meant marginally fewer sales?
And now there’s the heart limit. This is a kick in the knees to everyone, but most especially to moths and people who only add friends within the game. Hearts are already a difficult thing for most players to get enough of for base game cosmetics and holidays, and now you want to make them… more difficult? You’re locking a significant portion of your playerbase out of parts of the game because they don’t play the game exactly how you want. You’re making a certain playstyle mandatory, which, rather than fostering friendships and community, is going to drive players away.
Overall, it just seems… obstinate. You’re acting like the kid at the playground who won’t let others play with the toys you brought unless they do exactly what you tell them to. When you release a game, people are going to play it in ways you did not expect or intend. Unless outright harmful or destructive, I don’t think that should be punished. The best games will work with their players and not against them, and this latest heart update is antithetical to what the playerbase wants and needs.
If anyone actually read this, thank you. I hope you have a nice day.
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Good little girl
*gif is not mine*
Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤
Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?
Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.
Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader
Word count - 4.9k
Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!
You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.
“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.
“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”
“Mom!” you gasped.
Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.
You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.
“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.
While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.
He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.
“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”
“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.
“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.
You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.
Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.
“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”
You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”
She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”
“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.
He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.
But you wondered... did he love you?
The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.
But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.
While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.
But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.
Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.
“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”
“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.
“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”
“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”
You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.
You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.
“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.
“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.
“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”
He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”
“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”
“You know I would,” he smiled.
You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.
He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.
“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.
He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.
You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.
But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.
“What is it, honey?” he asked.
“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.
“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.
“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.
And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”
He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.
“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”
“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”
“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.
“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”
“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.
You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.
But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...
So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.
“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.
You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.
The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.
“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.
“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”
You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.
You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.
Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?
Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?
“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”
“You’re always working.” You complained.
“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”
You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”
He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”
“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”
“And why is that?”
You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.
“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.
“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.
“Um... I must’ve forgot.”
So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.
“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”
You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.
You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.
He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.
“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.
He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.
“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.
He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.
“Very well,” he nodded.
With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.
You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.
You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.
His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.
“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.
Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.
“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.
“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.
You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.
You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?
“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”
“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.
“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.
This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...
A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.
Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?
“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”
He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.
He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.
Until he saw... that.
He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.
“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”
“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”
Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.
He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.
“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.
He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.
He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.
“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” he scoffed.
You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.
“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.
His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”
“Okay,” you nodded.
“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”
“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.
“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”
You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”
“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”
“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”
“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”
“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.
He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”
Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.
He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.
“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”
Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.
“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” you nodded.
“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.
“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.
“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.
With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.
“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...
You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.
“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.
You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.
“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.
You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.
“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.
“No!” you whined.
“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”
“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”
“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.
You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”
“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.
“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.
“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.
You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.
Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.
“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.
He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”
You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”
He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”
“Yes,” you nodded.
“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.
Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.
You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.
He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.
Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.
You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”
“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.
“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.
Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”
“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.
You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.
“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.
“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.
“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”
“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”
Three days later
“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.
He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.
You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.
You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.
“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.
He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.
“I’ll be all alone then.”
“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.
“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.
“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”
“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.
Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤
Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!
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“La galette des rois”
It is I, one of the honorary french persons in this fandom (as I spend time here I notice how many of us they are and I wonder... Pourquoi on parle juste pas français entre nous?), here to explain to you a New Year tradition in France while August is ending and we are slowly approaching the marvelous and amazing... Toussaint. Joking I’m talking about Halloween. Though I can talk about Toussaint as well if the occasion presents itself. But this is the not the subject of this post, as I have an all-mighty need to talk to you about the “galette des rois” and all the traditions surrounding it in France so I can explain to you how it relates to Vanitas No Carte, as always.
Unlike some of my other posts about french culture and/or language, this post will end up more shippy than usual for reasons you shall quickly understand. Without further ado, let me tell you about a little omake that was released back in February 2019:
Original translation post here
It’s all very fun and interesting, and I’m glad MochiJun brought it up. Though as I read it, as a french person, a question remainted in the back of my mind... “If Vanitas became the kind, who is the queen?” You may think it’s a weird thing to ask yourself, and yet... Hidden in a corner of the french wikipedia page, and left unmentioned in the english one... Part of the tradition is missing.
You see, the Galette des Rois can indeed be taken as some kind of New Year’s punishment game, but for other reasons than being congratulated. Here is how the holiday is spent:
It’s a single day, the 6th of January, during which people either prepare or buy a “galette”, in it is hidden a “fève”. The person who finds the fève is crowned kind or queen of the day. As to be fair and not cheat on whoever can get the fève, the youngest person in the group gathered goes under the table and decides in which order they are served, once everyone has their piece of galette, they go out from under the table and everyone starts to eat to see who gets the fève. Once we know who got the fève, this person is given a paper crown... and now here is the interesting part:
They have to choose a king/queen.
You see, when the galette is usually bought, there is one paper crown furnished with it, and you can keep it for next year to have two crowns, one of the king/queen and one for the person they decided to choose as their queen/king. But if you only have one crown, the person who has the fève keeps the fève, and gives the crown to the person they decided was their king/queen. (It can vary from family to family for that though)
This is why it can be a New year’s punishment game: basically, it means you are forced to choose either your favorite person or your crush.
NOW HERE IS THE THING. So as a french person, I think it’s weird the omake stops there, because there is a step missing. But as I scroll through twitter, I find this... interesting tweet, by MochiJun, which works as an addition to this omake:
If you are not french, or if you don’t celebrate this kind of holiday, for you, it looks like this: Vanitas is giving up his “king” title to Noé... and I think this what MochiJun intended to represent. But the thing is: if you want to give up your title as king/queen, you don’t give the crown: you give the fève.
SO WHEN I TELL YOU I SCREAMED WHEN I SAW THIS--
For me, used to the whole “king/queen chooses queen/king” ordeal, this is Vanitas choosing Noé as his king/queen for the day. He is basically claiming Noé as his favorite person. (Btw, if you read the comments under it, you can find one french comment saying “Noé is his queen!”, which means I’m not making up stuff)
So yeah, how to make romantic subtext with a holiday that has absolutely nothing to do with romance in the first place.
Though I have to add some stuff to this: the whole thing about making sure the youngest is under the table while we serve everyone is actually so we can serve the youngest the piece with the fève if we find it. And if not, the king/queen can choose to crown the youngest either way as to give him something... Kids just want the crown, the glory, and the cake, and adults want peace. So this picture could very well be Vanitas doing the same thing.
As for what happens when we have our king/queen and queen/king for the day... Nothing. We just finish the galette and do our stuff. Maybe if you are with friends they will question why the kind/queen choose a certain person as their queen/king, a bit of teasing, but then that’s it.
Anyway, I’m happy. I hope you all have a nice day. Thank you for reading until the end!
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On fae/faer pronouns and cultural appropriation
HOW IT STARTED
I had a handful, a very small handful but more than two, responses in the Gender Census feedback box telling me that fae/faer pronouns are appropriative. The reasons didn’t always agree, and the culture that was being appropriated wasn’t always the same, but here’s a selection of quotes:
“Fae pronouns are cultural appropriation and are harmful to use“ - UK, age 11-15
“I’m not a person who practices pagan holidays but, my understanding is that pronouns like fae/faeself are harmful because the fae are real to pagans and is like using Jesus/jesuself as pronouns“ - UK, age 11-15
“I know you've probably heard this a million times, so has everyone on the internet, but the ''mere existence''of the fae pronoun feels really uncomfortable for some of us. I'm personally not against neopronouns like xe/xim, er/em and the like, I am a pagan but apart from the, imo most important, reasoning of that pronoun being immensely disrespectful, I worry as an nb about people who banalize the usage of pronouns ''for fun'', and I'm quoting what some people have told me.“ - Spain, 16-20
“I don't agree with fae/deity pronouns just from a pagan perspective it's very disrespectful to the cultures they come from. Like Fae are a legit thing in many cultures and they hate with a fiery passion mortal humans calling themselves Fae to the point of harming/cursing the people who do it“ - USA, age 16-20
“only celtic people can use far/ faers otherwise it’s cultural appropriation, many celts have said this and told me this“ - USA, age 16-20
❓ Someone who doesn’t say whether they’re pagan or Celtic.
❌ Someone who definitely isn’t pagan.
✅ Someone who is pagan.
❓ Someone who doesn’t say whether they’re pagan or Celtic.
❓ Someone who doesn’t say whether they’re pagan or Celtic.
So, just to disclose some bias up-front, I am English so I’m not Celtic, but I do live in Wales so I am surrounded by Celts. The bit of Wales that I live in is so beautiful in such a way that when my French friend came to visit me she described it as féerique - like an enchanting, magical land, literally “fairylike” or thereabouts. Coincidentally I have also considered myself mostly pagan for over half of my life, and I can’t definitively claim whether or not the Fae are “part of paganism” because paganism is so diverse and pick’n’mix that it just doesn’t work that way.
To me the idea that fae/faer pronouns would be offensive or culturally appropriative sounds absurd. But also, I am powered by curiosity, and have been wrong enough times in my life that I wanted to approach this in a neutral way with an open mind. Perhaps what I find out can be helpful to some people.
So since we only have information from one person who is definitely directly affected by any cultural appropriation that may be happening, the first thing I wanted to do was get some information from ideally a large number of people who are in the cultures being appropriated, and see what they think.
WHAT I DID
First of all I put some polls up on Twitter and Mastodon. [Edit: Note that this post has been updated with results from closed polls.]
I specified that I wanted to hear from nonbinary Celts and pagans, just so that the voters would be familiar with fae/faer pronouns. I asked the questions in a neutral way, i.e. “How do you feel about...” with “good/neutral/bad” answer options, instead of something more leading like “Is this a load of rubbish?” or “are you super offended?” with “yes/no” options. I provided a “see results” option, so that the poll results wouldn’t be skewed as much by random people clicking any old answer to see the results. And I invited voters to express their opinions in replies.
Question #1: Nonbinary people of Celtic descent (Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Cornwall, the Isle of Man, and Brittany), how do you feel about non-Celtic people using the neopronoun set fae/faer? [ It's good / No strong feelings/other / It's bad ]
Question #2: Nonbinary pagans, how do you feel about non-pagans using the neopronoun set fae/faer? [ It's good / No strong feelings/other / It's bad ]
The Twitter polls got over 1,100 responses each, and the Mastodon polls got over 140 responses each. With a little bit of spreadsheetery I removed the “N/A” responses to reverse engineer the number of people voting for each option, combined those numbers, and recalculated percentages.
Obviously this approach is not in the least scientific, but thankfully the results were unambiguous enough and the samples were big enough that I feel comfortable drawing conclusions.
Celts on fae/faer pronouns being used by non-Celts (561 voters):
It's good - 42.5%
No strong feelings/other - 44.0%
It's bad - 13.5%
Pagans on fae/faer pronouns being used by non-pagans (468 voters):
It's good - 47.2%
No strong feelings/other - 39.5%
It's bad - 13.3%
Here’s how that looks as a graph:
The limitations of polls on these platforms means that we have no way to distinguish between people who have more complicated views (”other”) and people who have “no strong feelings”, so we can’t really draw conclusions there. If we stick to just the pure positive and pure negative:
Celts were over three times as likely to feel positive about non-Celts using fae/faer pronouns than they were to feel negative.
Pagans were over three and a half times as likely to feel positive about non-pagans using fae/faer pronouns than they were to feel negative.
So Celts and pagans are way more likely to feel actively good about someone’s fae/faer pronouns, even when that person is not a Celt/pagan. That’s some strong evidence against the idea that fae/faer pronouns are appropriative, right there.
To be clear, I haven’t done any research about the roots of fae/faer or the origins of the Fae and related beings, but my goal here was to get a sense of what Celts and pagans think and feel, rather than what an historian or anthropologist would say.
On the anti side, here were the replies that suggested fae/faer either is or might be inappropriate:
“I only worry that not everyone understands the origin of the word outside of modernized ideas of fairies.“ - pagan
“As a vaguely spiritual Whatever (Ireland), I think a mortal using "fae" as a pronoun/to refer to themselves is asking for a malicious and inventive fairy curse (on them, their families and possibly anyone in their vicinity, going by the traditions). I have not heard of this term before, so this is an immediate reaction from no background bar my cultural knowledge of sidhe/fae/term as culturally appropriate. My general approach is people can identify themselves as they want.“ - Celtic
So we’ve got a pagan who’s wary that people who use fae/faer (and people in general) might not have a fully fleshed out idea of the Fae. And we’ve got a Celt who doesn’t mind people using fae/faer personally, but based on what they know of the Fae they wouldn’t be surprised if the Fae got mad about it. No outright opposition, but a little concern.
There were not a lot of replies on the pro side, but not because people weren’t into it, judging by the votes. There were a lot of “it’s more complicated than that” replies, many of which repeated others, so quotes won’t really work. Here’s a summary of the Celtic bits:
“Fae” is not a Celtic word, and Celts don’t use it. It is French, or Anglo-French.
“Fae” can refer to any number of stories/legends from a wide variety of cultures in Europe, not one cohesive concept.
There are many legends about fairy-like beings in Celtic mythologies, and there are many, many different names for them.
The Celts are not a monolith, they’re a broad selection of cultures with various languages and various mythologies.
And the pagan bits:
Paganism is not closed or exclusive in any way. It might actually be more open than anything else, as “pagan” is a sort of umbrella term for non-mainstream religions in some contexts. A closed culture would be a prerequisite for something to be considered “appropriated” from paganism.
From my own experience, pagans may or may not believe in the Fae, and within that group believers may or may not consider the Fae to be sacred and/or worthy of great respect. (I’ve certainly never met a pagan who worshipped the Fae, though I don’t doubt that some do.)
And then we get into the accusations. 🍿
“this issue wasn’t started by Celtic groups or by people who know much about Celtic fae. It was started primarily by anti-neopronoun exclusionist pagans on TikTok.“
“[I’m] literally Scottish [...] and it’s not appropriative in the least and honestly to suggest as such is massively invalidating towards actual acts of cultural appropriation and is therefore racist. Feel like if this was actually brought up it was either by some people who seriously got their wires crossed or people who are just concern trolling and trying to make fun of both neo-pronouns and of the concept of cultural appropriation and stir the pot in the process.“
“It wouldn't be the first time bigots falsly claim “it's appropriative from X marginalized group" to harass people they don't like, like they did with aspec people when they claimed "aspec" was stolen from autistic language (which was false, as many autistics said)“
“It's been a discussion in pagan circles recently ... People were very quick to use the discussion as an excuse to shit on nonbinary people.“
“I think it would be apropos to note that the word "faerie/fairy" has been a synonym for various queer identities for decades, too. The Radical Faeries are a good example.“ (So if anyone has the right to [re]claim it...)
A little healthy skepticism is often wise in online LGBTQ+ “discourse”, and some of these people are making some very strong claims, for which I’d love to see some evidence/sources/context. Some of it certainly sounds plausible.
HOW DID IT START?
I had a look on Twitter and the earliest claim I can find that fae/faer pronouns are cultural appropriation is from 18th February 2020, almost exactly one year ago today. Again, tweets are not the best medium for this, there was very little in the way of nuance or context. If anyone can find an older claim from Twitter or Tumblr or anywhere else online, please do send it my way.
I have no idea how to navigate TikTok because I’m a nonbinosaur. (I’m 34.) I did find some videos of teens and young adults apparently earnestly asserting that they were Celtic or pagan and the use of fae/faer pronouns was offensive, but the videos were very brief and provided nothing in the way of nuance or context. For example:
This one from October 2020 with 29k ❤️s, by someone who I assume is USian based on the word “mom”?
This one from December 2020, that says “I am pagan and i find it rather disrespectful. It’s like using god/godr or jesus/jesusr.” That’s probably what inspired the feedback box comment above that refers to hypothetical jesus/jesusr pronouns.
If anyone is able to find a particularly old or influential TikTok video about fae/faer pronouns being appropriative I’d really appreciate it, especially if it’s from a different age group or from not-the-USA, to give us a feel for how universal this is.
For context, fae pronouns were mentioned in the very first Gender Census back in May 2013, though you’ll have to take my word for it as the individual responses are not currently public. The word “fae” was mentioned in the pronoun question’s “other” textbox, and no other forms in the set were entered so we have no way of knowing for sure what that person’s full pronoun set actually is. This means the set may have been around for longer. The Nonbinary Wiki says that the pronoun set was created in October 2013, as “fae/vaer”, later than the first entry in the Gender Census, so I’ll be editing that wiki page later! If anyone has any examples of fae/faer pronouns in use before 2013 I would also be very interested to see that.
Obviously I can’t speak for everyone, as the Twitter polls are not super scientific and they only surveyed a selection of Celts and pagans within a few degrees of separation of the Gender Census Twitter and Mastodon accounts, but I can certainly report on what I found.
For a more conclusive result, we’d need to take into account various demographics such as age, culture, location, religion, race/heritage, etc.
As far as I can tell based on fairly small samples of over 400 people per group, a minority of about 13% of Celtic and/or pagan people felt that use of fae/faer pronouns is appropriative.
A much higher number of people per group felt positive about people who are not Celts or pagans using fae/faer pronouns. The predominant view was:
It can’t be cultural appropriation from Celtic cultures because fairy-like beings are not unique to Celtic cultures and Celtic cultures don’t call them Fae.
It can’t be cultural appropriation from pagan cultures because paganism is not “closed” or exclusive in any way, it’s too broad and open.
If your experience of your gender(s) or lack thereof isn’t described or encompassed by the gender binary of “male OR female”, please do click here to take the Gender Census 2021 - it’s international and it closes no earlier than 10th March 2021!
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Tik Tok Leggings
Summary: Time to test these Tik tok leggings.
Warnings: swearing, Fluff, Cheeky Henry, Suggestive Themes, Plus sized reader
A/N: Just wanted to do something different thinking of maybe having a mini TikTok onshot series but unsure yet. Either way I hope you enjoy and happy Easter to those who celebrate and those who don't? Have a brilliant Sunday xx
Taglist: will be in comment/reblogs
You eyed the package wearily... just how the fuck were you meant to pull this off? Slowly but surely the confidence and 'fuck it' attitude was waning. They looked small.... very small.
You huffed a sigh looking at yourself in the mirror eyeing your form. You swear you'd gained some more weight, just a few pounds maybe? But you felt huge. Slowly you unravelled the leggings, it had been a good idea at the time but now you wasn't so sure. They were expensive and even thought you bought them as a little prank you did hope they would boost you confidence or at least be comfy enough to wear around the house.
Being a larger girl it was hard finding comfy clothes and you had to be comfy now that your boys were running around the house like headless chickens. You thought the terrible twos with trainers were bad? Your four year olds had scooters!
You grit your teeth and decided to try the leggings on gearing up for an all put war with the waist band but was pleasantly surprized. The fabric was firm and tummy controlling without feeling you feeling caught by a bloody boa constrictor! A comfy tight not spandex tight. You casually wondered about seeing if the company did bras, this shit would stop the girls from trying to knock you out on the stairs!
You pulled the material setting the... elasticated seam in your ass crack and winced... Okay that's a little strange... but not unpleasant and almost thong. You spun around eyeing yourself in to mirror. You didn't look to bad, if you said so yourself. Sure you wasn't magically strim and fit, you were blessed with a nice thick ass... but unfortunately had the thick hips and large thighs to go with it. You'd never be petite or dainty, but then again henry was huge behemoth of a man so you didn't need to be. As he said on many occasions he wanted a woman as thick as him... and you definitely fit that bill. His thighs were only slightly bigger then yours.
You turned around a few more times. Fuck okay hello there~ you grinned. You may not be the perfect sized woman but fuck if your ass wasn't glorious in these leggings~ this just might work.
You grinned and pulled on one of Henry's tshirts, the grey marines one it was snug and would ride up a little over your tummy showing off your bubble but that you felt was your best feature. And then padded downstairs, henry. Was in the large garden trying to teach the boys how to play rugby... Wanting to start them young.
You pottered about the kitchen chopping up the salad for tonight. Contrary to what people thought you were not large because you ate to much or did little exercise, you had always been bigger and admittedly since having the boys you had gained a little more weight but not ridiculously, you wasn't dangerously over weight.
You hummed looking out the patio door seeing henry jumping for joy as his boys and Kal played 'rugby' darting across the garden to the tiny rugby post at the end. Moving to Jersey to raise the kids was a brilliant idea, you had a huge country house with the land to go with it. Flat and immaculate that spread around the house in nearly four acres the lawn was mostly to the back and side and cornered off with tall hedge rows then beyond it a cornered off veggie plot and greenhouse and a work in progress chicken coop. Soon there will be a decent sized pond and some ducks... Henry didn't know yet, but if he was allowed to have a stables built four god knows how many horses you were allowed your ducks god dammit.
You grinned watching as henry ran around both the boys with his phone out cheering them on as they tor across the garden wrestling each other for the ball. You had panicked when you were told twin boys but you should have known henry would be able to handle it. It was perfect, days like this when he was home and strived to make his sons lives as magical and fun as he could, everyday was a holiday when dad was home.
You shook your head seeing the boys both lay on the floor in the shade completely tuckered out from the mornings fun. Henry can into the kitchen and you held your breath quickly bending over the counter a tad more then normal hoping to get a favourable reaction from your husband. But you couldn't help the tinge of doubt what if he didn't like them? Or thought you looked bigger then you were?
"Hey sweetheart are the boys fruit shoots in the fri-oh sweet baby Jesus" he coughed cutting himself off and took a half step back as he came in the kitchen. You giggled and turned to him then nodded your head to the fridge.
"Yeah their in there love" you said smirking and blushing as you saw him eyeing your ass tilting his head slowly down trying to get a better look at your ass making you bite your lip.
"Err yeah yeah... I... hold that thought" he said snapping out of it holding a finger up at you and looked to his phone.
"You just stay right were you are- no nope over bend over again babe... fuck me how did I get such a sexy little mama~" he growled one hand swiping over his screen. You flushed and wriggled our hips a little as you leant forward feeling on top of the world as he openly gawked at your ass. For a second you thought he was taking a photo and made to move wanting to snap up right but he napped his fingers to you pointing for you to get back down and brought the phone to his ear.
"Henry what are you?-" you tried standing once more but he crossed the kitchen pressing himself up against your ass and rocked slowly making you mewl as his bulge pressed against your ass half hard already. Henry huge hand pressed you down on the counter before him and winked then he spoke as who ever was on the phone answered.
"Hey mum, hi can you come get the boys?" He asked and you gasped at him shaking your head at him laughing. He wasn't palming the kids off to their grandparents because he wanted a midday fuck! Not that Marie-Ann would mind, she loved hosting the kids and frequently showed up out of the blue and took them out for the day. She was adamant that both you and henry still had alone time.
"No, no everything's all right I just- somethings come up~" he smirked and you laughed loud shaking your head at him, he was a little bugger! He wriggled his brows at you and nodded then flushed stuttering for a few comments.
"I.. No no of course not mum... muuuum stop- well yeah... yes I know you were young once-oh shit no I didn't mean of course your still young! Your in your prime! Okay yes, yes I promise to try my hardest... yes okay, see you in ten okay love you bye... bye mum I will. Yes I will mum bye" he muttered slowly moving through being embarrassed, shy and strangely confident before hanging up.
"Soo the boys are going out?" You giggled finding the way he reacted ridiculously cute. It wasn't what you expected, maybe a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass. But not him shipping the kids off for the day.
"And staying over night" Henry muttered moving both hands to your ass and squeezed and rolled the cheeks about making you squeak and try rising on your tip toes but he just growled following pressing a kiss to your neck.
"And what have we agreed to for this mighty generous gift? What have you promised?" You said arching back into him with a teasing tone knowing Marie would make henry pay for the 'young once' comment.
"Oh you know nothing too big just another grandchild, which wont be hard with these in your closet" he chuckled pinging the fabric that clung to your ass like a second skin. You flushed gasping out at him batting him away slowly. But it was a hard fought battle, Henry won easily sliding the cutting board back then let you spin to face him. He quickly hoisted you up onto the counter top behind you and kissed your lips moaning into you before pulling back and pointed at you.
"Right you stay- right here. Don't you move a muscle Mrs Cavill" he said seriously and backed away from you still pointing making you laugh and kick your feet biting your lip before nodding. Henry backed up to the back door and called out to the boys.
"Boys come on! Your going to grandmas for a sleep over! Go pack a bag, jammies, tooth brush and clothes for tomorrow! Come on mush hop it or cop it!" he called you smiled hearing two high pitch excited voices squealing at the thought of grandma. She spoilt them rotten. They dashed into the house quickly running past the both of you giggle as henry tried playfully nudging them on the bottoms with his foot when they ran through the kitchen to dart up the stairs and pack an overnight bag. Henry slunk out of the kitchen following the boys but kept glancing back at you.
"Remember right there babe, been too long since we fucked in here~" he growled making you flush remembering the last time you'd made love in here. It'd been when you were pregnant, the day you moved in before you redecorated you'd had Chinese take out and then made love in every room in the house.
"I'll be right here love I promise, now... You might want to sort yourself out before answering the door to your mother~" you teased pointing to the large lump in the front of his shorts making him grunt and cup himself trying to reposition himself and left the kitchen to help the boys pack.
You can safely say, these leggings were a success. You were definitely leaving a five star review... You did however regret not filming his reaction for tiktok. Honestly you didn't even have the app your sister in law had shown you and you thought it'd be something fun to try with Henry. You may just get more than you bargained for though, not that you minded... You just hoped you had a girl this time, it was about time to try and even things out a bit.
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tired eyes are the death of me // f.w.
summary: a quiet night in the common room between fred and reader
word count: 2k
a/n: SUPER fluffy, basically no plot just fluff. was hesitant to post this so let me know if you guys liked it!! Working on a bigger fic that should be up soon! love u :)
Fred, George, and Lee found themselves racing into the Gryffindor common room at top speed with panting breaths and silenced laughs. It was a few nights before the holidays and they had just set off an exploding Christmas present in Professor Umbridge’s office.
It was late at night, the best time for a prank as extreme as sneaking into Umbridge’s office, which allowed them a clear path through the hallways as most students were already tucked into bed at this point. They were not expecting any Gryffindors to be awake in the common room, which is why they did not hold back in releasing their loud laughter.
“That was brilliant!” Lee squeaked out, grasping for air as his infectious laugh echoed off the walls.
“I wish we could see the look on her face when she opens it.” George snorted, “Surely she doesn’t think she’s receiving a gift for her stellar teaching skills.”
It didn’t take long before the rambunctious behavior of the three woke up the girl sleeping on the couch before them.
“Hey, quiet down, would you?”
Lee had jumped at the sound, probably still on edge and afraid of facing the wrath of Umbridge. Their gazes softened once they realized who it was. Y/N Y/LN, their longtime friend and fellow Gryffindor. She rose up just enough to see their faces over the back of the couch. It was obvious she had just been woken up, puffy eyes, tangled hair, and a red blanket laying haphazardly off one shoulder.
“Blimey,” Lee sighed, placing a hand on his chest, “Scared the daylights out of me.”
Y/N exhaled a breathy laugh, bringing up on hand to rub the sleepiness from her eyes.
“Yeah?” She quipped, “How you do you think I felt being scared awake by the three of you cackling through the common room?”
George snorted, “Sorry, Y/N. We were just getting back from setting up one of our new pranks in Umbridge’s office, wanna hear about it?”
“I’d love to Georgie, maybe tomorrow though, yeah?”
George playfully rolled his eyes but nodded, bidding Y/N a goodnight and following Lee up the stairs to their dormitories.
Fred’s hands were stuffed in his pockets, standing in his place behind the couch. Soft brown eyes glowing as the reflection of the fire danced within them. A grin tugged at his lips, he’d been staring at her this entire time. Godric, she looked absolutely adorable, he thought. He felt his breath hitch as he looked down at the jumper she was wearing, it was his. He remembered exactly when he’d given it to her too. It was before a quidditch match, a particularly cold one at that.
“Go on, put it on.” Fred encouraged, looking down at the hesitance in Y/N’s face.
She rolled her eyes and obliged, slipping the sweater over her head. The sleeves fell past her hands, the end reaching her thighs, but she could’ve sworn it fit her like a missing puzzle piece. She was engulfed in warmth and Fred’s scent that had her cheeks warming up as she realized.
“See?” Fred quirked a brow, “Much better.”
Y/N chuckled, “Thanks, Weasley.”
“It looks great on you.” Fred leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Y/N closed her eyes, allowing herself to fall deep into the endless pit that was loving Fred Weasley. His soft lips on her skin and his scent filling her nose, she scrunched up the end of the sleeves in her fists, resting them on his chest.
“Plus, now everyone will know it’s me you’re rooting for.” He sent her a wink before quickly grabbing his broom and jogging off to meet the rest of his team.
Fred wasn’t sure which moment he loved more, her wearing his clothing with pride, cheering him on loud enough he could hear her across the pitch, or now, wrapped up in his scent for comfort on a cold night. He could feel the thumping of his heart within his chest, begging to be let out and right into Y/N’s hands where it belonged. She had him wrapped around her finger and Fred didn’t seem to mind. Hell, if anyone was going to have that much control over him, he was overjoyed that it was her.
“Hey, Freddie.” She lazily smiled up at the redhead, sending his heart into a frenzy. Pink lips curled into a grin, eyes blinking to keep from closing.
Fred walked towards her, taking a seat on the couch beside her. She sighed happily as he sat down, immediately leaning into him. He lifted his arm, wrapping it around her and letting it fall at her waist. Her head tucked into his chest, where she finally let her eyes flutter closed.
Fred pressed a kiss to her hair, “Hey, sweetheart.”
She hummed as his chest vibrated while the words left his lips. She lifted her arm, the long sleeve falling down enough to expose her hand so she could rest it on his chest.
This was a routine for the pair of best friends with undeniable feelings for one another. It was exhausting to the rest of their friends, being on both sides of the two pining over the other since third year. But to Fred and Y/N, it was perfect. They were attached at the hip most of the time, and while neither had uttered the words themselves, it was quite obvious to the other that they were in love. Fred was very touchy, finding any excuse to press a kiss to her face. Y/N was jealous and had no problem voicing her opinion when a new girl found herself flirting with the older twin.
There wasn’t a valid reason why they hadn’t put a label to their relationship, it hadn’t come up. Practically everyone in Hogwarts knew the two were a pair, so no one bothered to ask any questions. But it was moments like these, with his girl tucked into his side, that Fred questioned why they hadn’t brought it up sooner.
“Everything alright, Y/N?” Fred spoke softly, careful not to jolt Y/N awake if she had fallen asleep against him.
Y/N nodded her head against his chest, not caring to look up, “Fine, Freddie, why?”
“Look at me.”
Fred placed his hand on her cheek as she rose up to look at him. He found himself instantly smiling once he made eye contact with her. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the sight of her tired eyes. They were heavy, but she tried her best to stay awake to look at him. He chuckled to himself, absentmindedly running his thumb over her cheek, unknowingly lulling her to sleep.
Y/N bit her lip to suppress a smile. She couldn’t think of a better place to be, it was as if every evil in the world disappeared once she was in Fred’s arms. Time had stopped, Umbridge was gone, and she had no fear standing against her.
He leaned down, softly catching her lips in a kiss. She quietly gasped, not expecting his lips on hers. It wasn’t their first kiss, but it was like she would never get used to the euphoric feeling of him. She kissed him back, lightly tugging on his bottom lip. He breathed her in, her scent, the softness of her lips, the feeling of her cheek against his palm. He was so entranced, captivated by her that he forgot where he was. There was no need to know when he was with her, as long as he was with her he felt at home.
He grinned to himself, smiling against her lips. He watched her as he pulled back, her eyes were still closed as she relished in the after taste of him against her lips, hoping to hold on to it for as long as she could. A blush rose to her cheeks as she opened her eyes at last to see him already looking down at her. She tucked her head into his neck and he pulled her tighter against him.
“You know I love you, right?”
Y/N hummed, “I know. I love you too.”
“I mean, really love you though,” Fred paused, swallowing before he continued, “Not in a friendly way.”
Y/N lifted her head to press a light kiss to his jawline “I know, Freddie. I love you too.”
He chuckled, resting his chin on her head at her repeated response. They sat there for awhile longer, it was probably the most quiet the Gryffindor common room had ever been. Y/N relished in her surroundings. The slow thump of Fred’s heartbeat in her ear, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. It was a simple feeling, but one she held so close to her heart. The feeling of him breathing, alive, with her in the moment. She’d never loved anyone the way she loved him. He made it so easy for her, how charming he was for starters, but just how closely he cared for her. The mere touch of him sent her cheeks blushing and her heartbeat quickening.
They sat comfortable in their place, a silent conversation between the two as they communicated through the light kisses her pressed to her hair and the way she reached her hand up to brush through the ends of his hair. His hand ran up and down her side, occasionally stopping in one place to trace shapes against her skin.
“You keep doing that ‘n I’m going to fall asleep right here in your arms.” Y/N mumbled, her voice muffled from it’s place in his neck.
“I think I’d be okay with that.” Fred shrugged.
Y/N chuckled, “Not when your arms gone numb and you’ve gotta find a way to sleep sitting up.”
Fred laughed, his chest moving, causing Y/N to giggle as well. She was so happy. How was she supposed to expect herself to fall asleep in her lonely dorm room when she was so content in her lover’s arms?
She spoke up, “Fred.”
“Angelina’s already headed home for the holidays…” She was hesitant, it sounded like the perfect idea in her head but she was unsure if he would agree, “Why don’t you just come sleep with me?”
Fred didn’t shy away from the smile that appeared on his lips after her asking him to join her in bed. Even the tips of his ears grew warm. Truthfully he wanted nothing more than to hold her and fall asleep to the patter of rain outside her window. However, halfway through his seventh year he quickly grew accustomed to just how crazy their new DADA teacher was.
He sighed, “As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, I don’t want to risk you getting punished by Umbridge if we get caught.”
She huffed, already ready with a protest to his predicted rebuttal.
“Come on, love,” She sat up, “It’s only a few days before we leave for holidays as well, and I’m already so comfortable I don’t want to go sleep alone now.”
Fred shook his head, laughing quietly at the dramatic tone Y/N took to win him over, but it did, win him over. How could he say no to the soft, tired eyes staring up at him, he got so lost in them and didn’t ever plan on finding his way out. It was truly mind controlling at this point, he would do practically anything to have her look at him the way she did.
Fred smirked playfully, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through her hair. She shut her eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch.
“Fine.” He huffed.
Y/N chuckled, knowing she had him from the beginning. She leaned forward, pressing a long kiss to his cheek and stood from her spot, reaching out to grab his hands and pull him along with her to her dorm room.
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His Protector-Fred Weasley x Reader
(GIF credit to @winter-and-zombies)
Summary: At the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred is saved by (Y/N), a close friend of the twins. Both have always had feelings for the other, and in true cliche fashion, neither have admitted this. Years after the battle (where things are somewhat back to normal), the twins have remained friends with her, but it’s only at a Weasley family party does (Y/N) finally say something.
Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (platonic)
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Mentions of death, PTSD, injuries, blood, lots of fluff
(A/N: This is quite long! And also the first time I’ve written for Harry Potter, blame it on my FYP on Tik Tok)
There were no dry eyes from anyone gathered in the Great Hall. It was full of students, resting from the battle and treating injuries, or mourning over friends who didn't make it. Some were huddled together as they sobbed, others keeping to themselves as they tried to stop the horrifying images keep playing in their minds.
The Weasley’s were gathered around Fred, who was laid out on a makeshift stretcher, tears streaming down their faces as they waited for some sign of him waking up. He had dried blood on his face and partly in his hair. When he was first carried in, their immediate thoughts had been he was dead, because he seemed so lifeless. They were extremely grateful when they realised he was breathing, and he had a heartbeat.
Molly stroked back her son’s hair, trying to calm herself down as to not alarm her children. Never in her life did she think they would have to go through something like this, especially at such a young age. These were her babies, and she was going to protect them with her life like any mother would. George sat beside Fred opposite his mum, praying that his brother's eyes would soon open. Although it had been confirmed that he would be alright, albeit with a few injuries, seeing him lying there made it feel like he wasn’t with them anymore. Suddenly, Fred began to stir, scrunching up his eyes and moaning as he felt the pain throbbing through his body.
“How you feeling Freddie?” George quickly asked as the family got closer.
Fred mumbled something, but no one could understand.
“What was that Fred?” Molly quietly said.
“Who? Who are you talking about?” Molly was sure she had heard the name before, perhaps when the boys were still at school.
“(Y/N), where is she?” Fred moaned.
“I don’t know Freddie.” George replied.“I haven’t seen her since you were brought in.”
“Is..is sh-sh-she a-alive?” Fred was still weak, struggling to speak.
“Fred, please, just rest for now.” Molly begged, not wanting to see him in pain any longer.
As the family struggled to keep Fred still and stop him from panicking, Ginny backed away, knowing the only way Fred would settle was if she found (Y/N). When Fred was carried in, (Y/N) had also been brought him right behind him, but they were separated. She was taken off towards her friends, and in the heat of the moment, Ginny hadn’t questioned if she was alright, making her feel awful.
Although (Y/N) had been close to the twins, she hadn’t been as mischievous as them, not wanting multiple detentions or to get in any trouble as much as they did. It was a surprising friendship between them, especially when (Y/N) was so nice to Ginny, despite the age difference; she was always surprised that the boys never invited her round to their home during the holidays. Because she saw how Fred would sneak glances at the girl, always rolling her eyes at how obvious he was being with his feelings, yet neither one did anything about it.
Ginny ignored the calls from her dad when she set off in the hall to find (Y/N), bombarding her peers with questions, desperate to find her as quickly as possible. Luckily amongst everyone, she spotted (Y/N)’s friends huddled on the floor, holding onto the unconscious girl’s hands. Ginny startled them as she rushed over.
“Is she...” Ginny started.
“She’s alive. But she’s weak.” one of her friends sniffled.
“We need to move (Y/N).” Ginny demanded.
“She needs to be beside Fred.”
“She just does! Come on, help me move her. Please!”
The girls glanced between each other, and they knew Ginny wouldn’t be requesting such a thing for no reason. They struggled to navigate her body on the stretcher through the people, Ginny going ahead and commanding that they move out of the way. All eyes were on (Y/N), wondering why they were moving her. Ginny gently ushered George and her father out of the way, the men helping lay (Y/N) down on the floor. Fred also watched, slowly turning his head to look at her, expecting to see her beautiful eyes staring back. But when he saw they were shut, he panicked. He shakily reached out for her hand, struggling to find it as they were crossed over on her stomach. George took on her hands, placing it in Fred’s, smiling at the size difference.
Molly and Arthur looked at each other, wondering why this girl was so special to Fred and also why they hadn’t been told much about her.
“This is (Y/N). She saved Fred’s life.” Ginny explained to her parents."She's alive Fred."
Fred didn't reply, still staring at her and grasping onto her hand. His mind flashed back to seeing her save him, hearing how angry and upset she was as she shouted out her spell, somehow defending him from his death and saving herself. He had blacked out before he could see if she was safe. Although he heard Ginny, it didn't make him feel any better. He just wanted to see her eyes open. That was it.
"(Y/N)." he tried to raise his voice, but his throat was so hoarse that it came out as a whisper. He tried shaking her hand slightly, and again, he was too weak to even do that.
George held (Y/N)'s other hand, trying to help his brother wake up their friend. He too wanted her to wake up, and not just for his brother's sake. Her eyes fluttered open, then quickly shut again. Instinctively she was going to rub her eyes until she realised her hands were preoccupied.
"What's happening?" she breathed out, looking around at the Weasley family.
"You're safe dear." Molly reassured her.
"You're alive." Fred smiled, relief flooding through him.
(Y/N) only realised it was Fred talking beside her, breathlessly laughing as her head lulled to the side. There he was, alive just as she was.
"Fred? Oh my...Y-you're here."
"All thanks to you." George smiled, squeezing her hand.
"I'm so..." she gulped before continuing."I'm so happy you're both safe."
"Please don't do that again." Fred begged.
"Put yourself in danger to save me."
"Don't be stupid Freddie. You can thank me later."
"Let me guess...lots and lots of chocolates."
(Y/N) yawned as she packed up her things from work, tired after another long week. She passed co-workers, waving goodbye and smiling as she left the building. As she put on her hat, she looked up at the sky, smiling at the sight of snow falling. It was turning dark, and seeing the snowflakes illuminated by the street lights made the street she walked down everyday look beautiful. (Y/N) took her first few steps towards her route home, suddenly stopping for an unknown reason. Something was pulling her in the other direction, she wanted to take a different path today.
Following her instincts, she walked in the opposite direction, hypnotised by the weather around her. Once she reached the end of the street, she looked up at the sign post, and the only part of it not covered in snow was the one that said 'Diagon Alley'. She hadn't been down there for so long, she hadn't seen two certain men for so long.
Why was she headed there? And of all the times to go, why now? She hadn't seen the twins for months, not because she didn't want to, but because she was so busy, as were they. Continuing her walk, she thought back to how often they would spend time together, especially after what happened to Hogwarts. She needed solidarity, she needed to be reminded that Fred was still there, that she didn't dream saving him, it had to be real. (Y/N) would regularly visit them, or vice versa, trying to act like everything was normal and that they weren't effected by anything that had happened.
The shops were closed, she could see the owners locking up, beginning to tidy everything away. Lights were dim, signs now said 'closed' and she was one of the few people left in the street after a busy day of shopping. As (Y/N) approached 'Weasleys Wizard Wheezes', she grew nervous, wondering if this really was a good idea. She hadn't seen them for all this time and now she was suddenly turning up on their shop doorstep? Was it rude? Was she being stupid in thinking that they would be totally fine seeing her after a working day?
Mustering up as much courage as she could, (Y/N) forced herself to the front door, seeing that no last minute customers were left. She tried opening the door, luckily it was open, and let herself in.
"Sorry, we're closed!" a voice shouted out.
"Even for me?" she cheekily called back, giggling when a confused George poked his head around a pile of boxes.
He grinned, practically running towards (Y/N) with his arms open wide."Where have you been little miss?"
"I'm sorry, I know this is a random visit but...I don't know, I just thought of coming to see you and Freddie."
"You're welcome here any time of any day. You know that."
They pulled apart, still smiling."Thanks, I just feel bad that I've not made much effort."
"Hey, we're all busy now. Don't worry about it. I'll go get Fred, he's going to love this!"
George was ecstatic as he dashed off to find his brother. All of them were to blame for not catching up more often than they used to, and he had seen how it effected Fred. They had all been each others support system after the battle, but it was clear that Fred and (Y/N) hugged a little tighter than they used to, looked into each others eyes longer, and smiled as much as possible when together. George had always wanted to set them up (he would have preferred involving pranks somehow) and that old itch was back. These two were hopeless with their feelings for one another, he just had to give them a little push in the right direction...into each others arms.
"Freddie!" George exclaimed, laughing when his brother almost dropped a box out of fright.
"What?" Fred sighed as he recovered, placing the box on the floor. He just wanted to get the stock out for the next morning and go home.
"Come see who has paid us a visit."
George said no more, going back to the shop floor, leaving Fred rolling his eyes as he followed. He rolled up his shirt sleeves as they slid down his arms, not paying much attention to his surroundings. So when he looked up and he saw her, his mouth dropped open, shocked to see (Y/N) standing there.
"Would you just get over here and hug me?" (Y/N) joked, though not as boldly as she used to.
Fred just laughed as he did what she said, reaching down to wrap his long arms around her. She had miss how he held her, how tightly he clung onto her, as if it were their last hug ever. George just stood there, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for them to finish.
"What are you doing here?" Fred asked.
"Just wanted to see you both." (Y/N) simply stated.
"Well I'm glad you did."
"How about we go for some drinks? It is the end of the week after all." George suggested.
(Y/N) nodded."Yeah, I'm up for that."
"Well then, let's get packed up Freddie."
(Y/N) offered to help, but the twins refused. They came in and out of the stock room, being as quick as they could. (Y/N) took the opportunity to walk around, see what items they were selling. There were some new products, but most were older classics. She reminisced over all the times the boys used pranks such as the ones in the shop, and how they could sometimes get a lighter punishment, just because everyone loved them. She took part in a few schemes here and there, but only the harmless ones, the ones that would only land her in detention if they got caught.
She came to a stand that held numerous love potions. She smiled as she remembered making Amortentia in her lessons. That had been an awkward class. No one wanted to be picked on and asked what theirs smelt like, not in front of their peers. (Y/N) knew who's hers smelt like as soon as the lid of the bottle popped off.
"No luck in the love department then?" George smirked as he put on his coat.
"Hm?" (Y/N) hadn't been paying attention, thinking back on old times.
"Still not found 'the one'?"
"Oh, no, I don't have time for any of that."
"Well, hopefully Mr Right just stumbles into your life." George was growing more excited by the second.
"Right, ready to go?" Fred appeared.
"Yes-Oh!" George startled them."Freddie, I just had a great idea."
"Oh here we go." (Y/N) joked.
"(Y/N) should come home with us, to the Burrow, for mum's party!"
"A party? Why is your mum throwing a party?"
"Dad got a little bonus at work, mum thinks it's something to celebrate. And it's an excuse for her to get the whole family back together."
"That is an amazing idea actually." Fred beamed.
"I can't impose on something like that. Especially since it's a family thing."
"Nonsense." the twins said in unison.
"Are you sure? I mean, I haven't seen your family for so long."
"Mum would love it." Fred reassured her.
"OK then!" (Y/N) grinned."I've always loved a Weasley party."
"That's settled then," George opened the door,"we'll discuss the details over those drinks that are waiting for us."
Smoothing down her dress once again, (Y/N) checked her tights for any holes or ladders. She had planned her outfit a week before the party, changing her mind countless times before she finally decided on what she wanted to wear. All morning, her heart had been racing, stomach twisting into knots as nerves got the better of her. Why was she so nervous? She had met the Weasley’s many times, she even stayed the Burrow!
There was a knock at the door, meaning the boys were here to pick her up. Sighing, she checked herself one last time in the mirror before going to answer the door. As she opened it, she noticed it was only Fred standing there, no sign of George.
"Hi, where's George?" she asked as she let Fred inside the flat. She took a note of the smart-casual shirt he was wearing; thank god, she was dressed correctly.
"He's waiting downstairs. Said he can't be arsed to walk up all those stairs. Even though there is a lift..."
"Since when did he become so lazy?" (Y/N) giggled, grabbing her handbag and keys. Turning back around, she saw Fred staring at her.
"(Y/N), you look..." Fred was speechless, which was rare for him. He always had a witty remark, a joke or a flirty comment at the ready, but when he was around (Y/N), those words seemed to get stuck in his throat,"...beautiful."
(Y/N) smiled, ducking her head to hide her blush."Th-thanks Freddie. You look very handsome too."
There were so many more words that he wanted to use to compliment her. He wanted to slap himself for using such a basic word. (Y/N) was gorgeous, she was dazzling, he could believe such a smart, independant and caring woman was in his life. Why did he have to stutter or forget how to speak when he was around her? The real words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, but they would never leave there.
Awkwardly laughing, they left the flat, meeting George outside. George noticed their pink cheeks but didn't mention it, knowing they had embarrassed themselves enough in front of each other.
The journey was full of banter and inside jokes, making it seem like they were students again at Hogwarts. (Y/N)'s nerves about seeing the Weasley’s again had disappeared, but new ones emerged. And they were all because of Fred. (Y/N) wasn't stupid, she had always had feelings for him. But after the battle, she hadn't snatched him up, something held her back, and she just couldn't bring herself to even talk to Fred about it, like any other normal adult would.
The Burrow was just ahead, now the nerves were taken over by excitement. Fred and George reminded (well, warned) (Y/N) how excited their mum was going to be, but she didn't mind. It would be great to receive such an inviting reception. She walked between the twins up to the house, letting them go in first, hesitating slightly as she took in how many people were there; they weren't joking when they said everyone would be there.
"Mum, look who else we brought." Fred struggled to say as he was smothered with kisses across his face.
Molly finally let him go, her smile turning into a shocked expression before letting out a scream, making everyone jump. She didn't waste time bringing (Y/N) into a bone crushing hug. (Y/N) would have laughed if she could breathe, but didn't complain.
"Oh, it's so good to see you dear! It's been too long since you've been back here." Molly held (Y/N)'s cheeks in her hands, looking at how the young girl she knew had turned into a beautiful woman.
“I couldn’t say no when Fred and George invited me.” (Y/N) said through squished lips.
“Alright mum, give her some air.” George gently chuckled.
“Oh, this is so nice.” Molly beamed, glancing between (Y/N) and Fred, who was already looking at her.
It took a good ten minutes for the twins and (Y/N) to greet everyone. She always forgot how many Weasley’s there were, some she had not seen for years. Homemade food was laid out on the table (far more than what was needed), everyone nibbling at anything they fancied as they spoke over drinks. There was a toast held for Arthur, who humbly thanked everyone, bashful over Molly’s speech; and she didn’t leave out mentioning how lovely it was that the family was extending, referring to (Y/N). She had blushed too much recently, avoiding eye contact with Fred as everyone stared at the pair who were stood together.
The day was moving on too quickly, it was becoming dark outside, and she didn’t want the night to end. The family had split into groups, still having much to talk about. (Y/N) decided to refill her drink, parting from the others to head to the kitchen. Just as she found another bottle to open, someone appeared beside her. Craning her neck upwards, she flinched back as Fred held out her coat to her, along with her hat, scarves and gloves.
“We’re not leaving are we?” (Y/N) frowned, not wanting to leave.
“Just popping out.” Fred smiled.
After getting wrapped up, (Y/N) followed Fred outside. Once again, it was lightly snowing, starting to stick to the ground which was already frosty, the sound of grass crunching underneath their shoes. She nonchalantly looped her arm through his, snuggling into him (if he asked, she would blame it on the cold), her heart fluttering when Fred instead wrapped his arm around her shoulders, meaning they could be closer. They didn’t stray too far from the house, Fred casting Lumos to light the way. There was a crumbling stone wall which Fred confidently hopped onto. (Y/N) waited for some part of it to collapse, and when it didn't, she joined him, having to jump higher to reach the top. He laughed, forgetting how much advantage his height have him almost everyday.
"We've never sat here before." (Y/N) commented.
"Honestly, I didn't even know it was here."
"So we were just wandering around?" (Y/N) smiled.
"Yeah." Fred confessed.
“How come you wanted to get out of the house?”
“Uh...I wanted to, well, I thought we could talk.”
“About?” she dragged out the word.
“When I saw you again, after all this time, I realised what an idiot I’ve been.”
“What do you mean?”
“Obviously we’re busy, we’ve both got jobs and it’s always harder to meet up. But I regret that so much. After...what happened at Hogwarts, you were my rock, I always felt normal around you, as if nothing had happened. We were able to carry on with our lives like we had planned. When I didn’t see you, I would lie awake all night with that image of you beside me in the hall. It would never go away.”
“Why have you never told me any of this?”
“I’ve been too scared to reveal anything. I didn’t want to bring anything up, because who would want to be with someone who is still stuck in the past?”
“I would. Fred, you’re not alone in this. I’ve always felt the same. I visited you all those times because my mind would make me think that I never saved you. And if I hadn’t....I don’t know how I would have gone on. Because if I didn’t have you in my life-”
“Don’t finish that sentence, please. We’ve been through so much that we shouldn’t have. But we’re here now, together again.”
Fred held her hand, slowly interlocking their fingers. They both looked down, butterflies erupting in their stomach. The pair glanced at each other, quickly looking away when they realised how close their faces were.
“Why are we acting like kids at school again?” (Y/N) laughed.
“You’re asking the guy who owns and runs a joke shop with his brother, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped being a kid.”
“We did, once.”
“(Y/N), we don’t have to think about that anymore. It’s in the past.”
“Remember the last time we were in a situation like this? When you actually had the courage to ask me to the Yule ball?”
“And we went as friends?”
She nodded.“Yep. You know, I was a little disappointed when you added that part.”
“Yeah, I was sort of hoping you would ask me out as well. Then when you said that, and I just gave up trying. You never noticed me flirting anyway.”
“I never asked you because I never knew. And you also had guys after you so I didn’t think I had a chance.”
“Are you joking? Fred, no one else was wanting to date me.”
“Now you’re the one who is joking.”
“Let’s not make this more awkward than it already is.”
“Oh it’s awkward now?”
“Fred!” (Y/N) exclaimed but couldn’t help laughing along with him.
“No, no, I’m enjoying this.”
“Fred Weasley, after all this time being idiots and wasting time not being together...”
“What? Did you change your mind-”
(Y/N) didn’t know how to say it, instead closing the already small gap them and kissing him. Fred was shocked by how forward she was, but wasted no time kissing back. Her hands cupped his cheeks as Fred’s hands wound themselves around her waist. This had been long overdue. As they pulled away, breathless from the passionate kiss, Fred started to chuckle.
“What is it?” (Y/N) asked.
“Mum is gonna scream when she finds out about this.”
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An Exhibition of Muggle Duelling [G.W.]
Character: George Weasley
Word Count: 2042
Summary: Angry George is hot. He’s even hotter when he’s fighting. Based on that scene - you know the one - in Order of the Phoenix.
Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @sarcasticallywitty15 @tyyyweasley @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @wonderful-writer @marauders-loving-queen @vogueweasley @marvelettesassemble @thisismynerdyself @gcdric @loony-loopy-lupinn @gloryekaterina @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whiz-bangs78 @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @vivianweasley @andineversawyoucoming @nkjktk | message or send an ask to be removed! unfortunately, my taglist is closed until further notice due to hitting the max. amount allowed on one post!
Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it
A/n: shoutout to kaylah ( @pit-and-the-pen ) for finding the pages that the fight scene takes place and sending them to me - literal angel, thank you sm my love!! ❤️ also the ending isn’t great, i had a breakdown trying to figure out what to write, but hope you guys like it anyway 😂
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3
+ + + + +
Gryffindor had won.
It was supposed to be a happy occasion, despite the song Malfoy had gotten many of the Slytherin students to sing, but as you ran down the steps from the stand and onto the pitch, followed closely by Hermione, you realised something was wrong, Malfoy’s laughter being the most prominent sound.
You approached the Gryffindor team, wanting to make sure Harry was okay after the fall he took at the end of the game, though seeing Katie and Alicia hugging him assured you he would be fine.
“But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see. We couldn’t fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know-“ you heard Malfoy jeer.
“You’d know all about being a useless loser, wouldn’t you Malfoy?” You spoke out, arriving by George’s side as his arm automatically moved to slide around your waist, his head turning in Malfoy’s direction, jaw clenching as he realised what he was talking about.
“Leave it,” Angelina looked towards you and the twins, particularly Fred who had taken a step in Malfoy’s direction, “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, the jumped-up little-“
Malfoy smirked in yours and Harry’s direction, a nasty look on his face as he sneered, “But you like the Weasleys, don’t you Potter? And you, L/n.”
He spat out your surname with a grimace. You felt George trying to move and gripped his wrist, running your thumb softly over his skin. He swallowed, hands curling into fists as he glared at the blonde boy.
“Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you?” Malfoy continued, laughing with his usual sidekicks, enjoying the way he was winding you all up, “Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by muggles even the Weasley’s hovel smells okay-“
George suddenly lunged forward out of your reach, his name leaving your lips just as Harry caught his arm, pulling him back and holding onto him, trying to prevent him from pouncing on the blonde.
Angelina and Alicia were holding Fred back, helped by Katie who had a grip on his shirt and one of his shoulders, though he was still struggling to get away from them, pulling them forward as they dragged him back.
Malfoy laughed again, the sound piercing your ears and making you scowl, “Or perhaps you can remember what your mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it. And don’t get me started on you, L/n. The fact you’d even allow a Weasley to touch you-“
“You git-“ you yelled, moving to grab your wand. But before you could even throw a hex at him, Hermione grabbed your waist, keeping you back as you realised Harry had let go of George, and they were both now on top of the blonde boy, having shoved him down into the mud, throwing punch after punch. You stopped struggling as much as you watched the scene unfold before you.
“Harry! Harry!! George!! No!”
The Gryffindor chasers yelled out their names, but couldn’t do much more as they were still holding Fred back, who was still trying to get to Malfoy.
You held your wand loosely but couldn’t bring yourself to use it, watching as your boyfriend’s fist collided with Malfoy’s nose, his muscles straining and abs prominent as his Quidditch shirt rode up, showing off his toned back as he threw more punches, easily blocking Malfoy’s weak attempts at fighting back. He was swearing at the Slytherin boy, angry growls escaping his lips and you felt your mouth drop a little.
Swallowing, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the scene, George’s ginger locks sticking to his forehead with sweat, both from the previous game and from fighting, a snarl on his face as he continued his attack.
You’d never seen him like this, so aggressive, so in control of his actual movements yet not his emotions as he allowed his anger to fuel him, his eyebrows furrowed, clenched fists accentuating the veins in his lower arms as he landed punch after punch, before suddenly Madam Hooch was yelling out, and he was hit by a spell, one that paused his actions - or rather, slowed them down.
Harry jumped to his feet, as the Quidditch coach yelled out, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Malfoy lay on the floor, curled in a ball however you could see his nose was bloody. Fred was still struggling to escape the grasp of the chasers. And George, his lip was swollen and he was breathing heavily, but otherwise he seemed okay, for which you were thankful.
He pulled his shirt back into place angrily, a string of curses being muttered under his breath. His hands were still pulled into fists, his biceps clenching under the jersey, his jaw tensing, before he and Harry headed up to the castle without another word, practically marching away angrily towards McGonagall’s office, under Madam Hooch’s orders.
Fred pulled himself away from the chasers, though he was careful not to hurt them, and they hesitantly released their grips, ready to pull him back again if he attempted to finish what his twin and Harry had started. He scowled as he turned towards the changing rooms, grabbing his broom and heading off.
Hermione let go of your waist and you stomped after Fred, who was grumbling under his breath, and though he nodded at you in reassurance he was okay, you knew the twins and anger didn’t usually end too well.
No one seemed to want to celebrate Gryffindor’s win after the match. In fact, you were sat in the common room completely alone, waiting for your boyfriend (and Harry) to come back from being reprimanded by McGonagall. Fred had sullenly stomped to his room a while ago without a word, simply kicking the wall beside the stairs in anger as he passed by it.
Even Angelina - who you’d expected to have been happy by her first win as a new Captain - had retired to her own dorm room with a frown, along with Alicia and Katie.
The common room felt odd, being so quiet, but you appreciated the calm. That was, until the portrait door slammed open and two familiar - angry - faces stormed in.
You didn’t have chance to acknowledge Harry before George had pulled you up off the couch and, despite his split lip, he brought you into a rough kiss, one that made your toes curl and caused your greeting to become muffled, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you.
His tongue ran across your bottom lip, before pushing into your mouth, desperately kissing you as though it were the last thing he’d ever do. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.
You weren’t aware he’d started moving you until your back hit the stone wall beside the fireplace, his hand moving to grab your bum, travelling to the back of your thigh to lift it round his waist, his hips pressing against yours.
“Did you hear what he was fucking saying?” He mumbled against your lips, parting briefly to take a breath before kissing you again, “‘Bout my parents, and Harry’s Mum. And you- Merlin he’s lucky he didn’t say much more about you, he’d have had more than a broken nose, I’ll tell you that much.”
Your breathing was heavy, fanning across his lips as you replied, “Trust me, if he’d said much more, I’d have been right there with you breaking more than just his nose.”
He hummed, his mouth hovering over yours as his eyes grazed over your face, your leg still resting around his waist, your hands now gripping his shoulders.
“Are you okay?” You asked. Perhaps a redundant question, considering the events of the day, however as George briefly screwed his eyes shut before opening them again, you knew he understand what you meant - there was something else bothering him, and he knew you could tell.
“‘M fine, love,” he gave you a quick nod, before sighing at your pointed eyebrow raise, “Aside from being banned from Quidditch.”
You blinked, not expecting that answer, lips parting in surprise as his hand moved from your hip to your thigh, tracing random shapes on the skin showing, “Wait McGonagall banned you? She wouldn’t do that! She adores your team! They don’t stand a chance of winning without you!”
“Not her, the toad. Gave me, Freddie and Harry a lifelong ban. Can she even do that?” He swore aloud, his head dropping to your shoulder and you ran a hand through his ginger hair.
“Oh Georgie,” you breathed out, your heart almost breaking at the idea of him losing out on something he loved so much, “I’m sorry to say but you know as well as I do... she can pretty much do whatever she wants, sadly. She’s got the Ministry behind her. I’m so sorry.”
Your gaze moved to the back of your hand, where you knew there was light scarring from a previous detention with her, knowing that if she could get away with something like this, then she’d do it.
“‘S not your fault, is it? Should’ve controlled myself and not fought Malfoy. No matter how much the git bloody deserved it,” George curled his hands into fists as memories of the fight danced through his mind, a snarl setting across his features as he buried his face into your shoulder.
“He definitely deserved it. Least you got in a few good punches, eh? And if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been Fred. If it makes you feel any better though...” you trailed off, causing George to look up at you in anticipation of your next words, “I kinda maybe definitely thought that it was hot, the way you fought Malfoy. Just a little bit.”
He looked you up and down with a smirk, seemingly calming down at the revelation of this new information, “Me fighting is hot is it?”
“Oh Godric yes. You’re sexy when you’re angry anyway, but seeing you punching Malfoy?” You bit your lip and he let out a low groan, “Baby, that was attractive.”
George grinned cheekily, though a tad too wide causing his lip to split again, making him swear and dab at it with the collar of his shirt, reaching his other hand out to squeeze your thigh, “Well now I know that I might cause fights more often.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, watching as his tongue darted out across the cut, before leaning up to press your lips against his again. He kissed back immediately, almost as if he was waiting for you to do it, then began trailing kisses down your jaw, your eyes fluttering closed, before he pulled away suddenly, making you open them again, ready to protest.
“What is it about me fighting?” He asked, the corner of his mouth curling up, as if he was trying not to smile too smugly.
“Now you’re just begging for compliments,” you shook your head.
“Humour me. Humour me and I’ll go back to kissing you,” he countered.
You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly moving to stroke his biceps through the Quidditch jersey he was still wearing, “Couldn’t tell you if I wanted to. Guess it’s your muscles...”
You pressed your lips together as your gaze caught his, “And how strong you are.”
You hummed, fingertips dancing up his arms and towards his shoulders, “Oh yeah. You could hold my wrists above my head and I could struggle with everything I have and you’d keep me in place with ease.”
“That a hint?” His voice had dropped a few octaves as he brushed his lips against yours gently, grabbing both your wrists in one hand and pinning them against the wall above your head as you shot him a cheeky grin, gazing up at him.
His free hand was already moving under the material of your skirt, as he casually glanced over his shoulder towards the staircase to the dorm rooms, before pressing himself against you further, his lips hovering over yours once more,
“Oh yeah? Then challenge accepted, love.”
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