Nora

The lack of editing in so many books baffles me. So often, I am like: 100 pages less and good editor would make this dragging mediocre generic thing so much better.
I admire writers, but please, take the editor’s advice to heart 🙏

#heatedrivalry #hollanov #nsfw

#heatedrivalry

“Missed you.”

Reading The Long Game and hurting my feelings
#heatedrivalry #hollanov #thelonggame

#heatedrivalry #shanehollander #sketch

“You want to make me a tuna melt?”
#heatedrivalry #hollanov #ilyarozanov

(6/6)

So… this is some random Ron in politics idea.
(2/6)

Parkweasel

Thank you 🙏

❇︎FIN❇︎

"Miss Parkinson..."

„Pretty please,“ Pansy cooed, her knees high to give him a proper view, her body resting back on her elbows.
Percy was caught off guard by the growl that escaped his throat, „You wicked witch… How could I ever resist you?“ And being the good fiancé he was, he dived straight in.

Pansy booped his nose, „That’s where you are wrong, dear,“ she said and hopped up onto the table. Her thighs parted, the high slit allowing the movement.

Percy blinked in surprise as her skirt bunched up, showing off the thongs she wore, with mistletoe printed on the fabric of the front.

Pansy glanced down, mischief twinkling in her eyes. „You could kiss me under the mistletoe,“ She suggested, with a voice that was everything but innocent.
„There isn’t any,“ He pointed out, one eyebrow raised, waiting for whatever was cooking in that pretty head of hers.

„Percy, I dress exclusively for you,“ Pansy scoffed dramatically, resting the back of her hand on her forehead, closing her eyes, and showing off matching glittery eyeshadow. “And myself.”
Percy squeezed her hips, „And how can I make it up to you?“

„I do it for you as well, darling. I bet everyone outside already complimented you plenty.“ It was a weak excuse, but Percy made it anyway. He knew he sometimes worked too hard, neglecting her. Once the bill would pass, though…

Cheeky slit in the skirt revealing sparkly thigh-highs and soft skin above them, a heart cut out on her chest. „You look beautiful.“

Pansy pouted and sighed, her ruby red lipstick also sparkly. „And all that effort, for nothing, when you are hiding here, slaving away for the Wizarding world.“

Percy looked up, amused, „Catching up on a few things, you know how it is.“ He rolled his chair just so that she could lean against the table between his knees. His hands landed softly on her hips as he appreciated the velvet green dress, skintight against her body.

Dipping foot into Holiday romance novels to fight reading and writing slump...

Little #Parkweasel

____
„Hiding from the party, Mr. Weasley?“ Pansy greeted, her voice low and silky, as she slipped through the door.

♥️🔥

I’m blushing 🔥🫠

I love them ♥️

They are just precious 💚

He does what must be done. 💚

And always adored 💚

Pansy touched his face, a wave of healing magic sealing the cut. She smiled. „Thank you.”

FIN

„I am sorry, I had to. I had to get you out.“

Pansy nodded, overwhelmed with relief. She felt nothing for the three bodies in the library. „Let’s go. To France, anywhere, together.“

Neville pulled away and looked at her, „I killed your family, Pansy.“

„Pansy…“
Gentle fingers touched her, and she startled.
She looked up, and there he stood. Neville. Alive. Just a cut across his cheek.
She wailed and threw herself into his arms, shaking like a leaf.
„I am sorry,“ Neville murmured into the curve of her neck,

She should never have encouraged him when he was hired to renovate the gardens. She killed him. She killed Neville because she was selfish.

Pansy knew what was coming when the door opened again and waited with a stiff spine for the first blow.