So a long while ago @lamieboo tagged me in this post (I'm not reblogging bcs it'll be way too long sorry đą) I made some art and wrote a whole one shot for it because it was the perfect opportunity for a Winter lore I've always wanted to make.
Please be kind lol đ I haven't written in ages and I'm such a noob when it comes to writing, also English isn't my native language. I had to run my draft through multiple writing tools back and forth to find better phrasings and dictions that better express what I want to convey.
Roughly ~1,000 words.
Green and Gold
She stepped forward as the wardrobe creaked open, the boggart slipping through the narrow gap in the door. Long, flowing golden threads emerged first, and Winter drew in a sharp breath.
The rest of the boggart soon took formâa woman in a pale blue dress, slumped weakly on the floor, her calf bleeding from a deep slash. Golden locks framed her worried face, and her piercing blue eyes, so much like Winterâs own, locked onto hers.
Winterâs hand instinctively went up to the scar across her left eye.
The womanâs chest heaved with silent breaths. The faint murmur of the students lining up behind Winter faded until she could hear nothing. Then, the womanâs lips parted, as if to speak.
âClose your eyes, snowflake.â
Was that truly her motherâs voice? Winter couldnât remember if boggarts could speak. Could they mimic human voices? Or was it only mouthing the words while the voice echoed from somewhere deep within her mind?
Her hands went clammy. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face.Â
She knows whatâs coming next.
Behind her motherâs beautiful, tear-streaked face, a blinding green light appeared.
Winter swiftly squeezed her eyes shut and raised her wand. âRiddikulus,â she whispered, her voice trembling as she kept her eyelids tightly closed.
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â· âââââââ · ·
Sebastian went pale, even as the swirling Mallowsweet leaves spun into a twister before him, which without question, the most mesmerising form of the Riddikulus charm he had ever seen. It wasnât a form he would laugh at, unlike most transformations of the charm. It was breathtaking.
But no, what had truly gripped him was the green light that followed her motherâs appearance.
He had never seen Winter like thisâparalysed by fear, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. She was always so composed, so captivating. Full of life, curiosity, and wonder.
He hadnât realised this was her deepest fear.
And it was the very same curse he had cast just last year. On his uncle. Right in front of her.
What had she looked like back then? He couldnât quite remember. The sound of her laboured breathing lingered faintly in his mind, and he recalled her standing frozen for a moment before following him as he fled the catacombs. But the look on her faceâhe had no memory of it. Was she shocked? Horrified? Traumatised? He had been too distraught, too consumed by his own turmoil, to notice.
Merlin, how must she have felt? Watching her best friend cast the Killing Curseâthe very same curse that had taken her motherâs lifeâright in front of her?
His throat went dry. His insides twisted painfully. Clenching his hands into fists, he dug his nails into his palms.
Was this⊠was this the reason she had refused to learn the spell? Not that he had wanted her to; in fact, he had been relieved when she didnât. But it left him with questions. She was his kindred spirit, after all, and he knew the Dark Arts intrigued her, even if it was purely out of curiosity and for the sake of knowing.
She wanted to learn, and had learned the other two curses. He had thought, perhaps, she would eventually ask about the last one, even though he wasnât sure if he could bear to teach herânot after what happened to Solomon, to himself.
To Anne.
But she was adamant in her refusal to learn it. She had said so out of the blue, when they began speaking again after the catacombsâafter weeks of silence between them. Now, he finally understood why.
And his heart broke for her.
âSebastian? Sebastian, what just happened?â
Ominisâ voice snapped him back to reality. His best friendâs face was filled with concern, surely anxious for not being able to see whatâs happening. Just this time, Sebastian is glad he couldnât. He wouldnât want Ominis to witness her in such a state.
He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
He tried again, but his gaze drifted to Winter, who was slowly making her way towards them from the front of the line. Another studentâArthur Plummly, perhapsâstepped forward to face the boggart, but Sebastian hardly noticed. His focus was solely on Winter, her head bowed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her body trembling slightly.
âWinterâŠâ
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. They stood there for a moment, locked in each other's gaze.
âI⊠Iâm sorry.â He finally managed to speak.
âWhat... what are you apologising for?â
So much. Even though heâd already apologised to her and Ominis countless times, he hasnât apologised for this one.
âYouâyou know why.â He knew she understood. Theyâd always had a way of reading each other, and this was one of those moments.
âThatâs⊠Itâs notâyou shouldnâtâŠâ She trailed off. And Sebastian was thankful she didnât finish. Because he did feel like he should apologise. Even though hadnât known about this, what he did that day mightïżœïżœïżœve stirred up memories she had buried deep down. Just like the cursed boggart had just now.
Another silence passed before he slowly pulled her into an embrace. One hand rested on her back, the other gently cradling the back of her head. She froze at first, startled, but after a moment, her body softened into his arms as he tenderly stroked her hair.
From his peripheral vision, Sebastian saw Ominis approached hesitantly. His alabaster hand tentatively found Winterâs smaller one, which still hung limply at her side, and she allowed their fingers to entwine. Sebastian could see the questions lingering in his best friendâs furrowed brows, but heâs certain that Winter would talk to himâshe would explain everything to them when sheâs ready.
He glanced forward, aware of the curious eyes from the students waiting in lineâsome watching with intrigue, others with quiet sympathy. It was a peculiar view, after all: Winter with her two best friends huddled together in such an unusual position. Up front, he caught sight of Amit ducking as his boggart morphed into harmless paper planes flying about after his successful Riddikulus. Sebastian hadnât seen Amitâs boggart, but he imagined it was likely something ordinary, like a failing report card marked with a dreaded âTâ in Astronomy or History of Magic.
None of that mattered now. The only person of importance was the girl in his arms, her trembling slowly subsiding, her once-laboured breathing easing into a soft, steady rhythm.
· · âââââââ ·â â
â· âââââââ · ·
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Home Run
Pairing: Bangchan x reader (afab, she/her)
Genre: smut, basically pwp but there's a semblance of plot if you read the other pieces, friends-to-lovers
Word count: 2.2k
Content: protected sex, Chan pov
Summary: Different Spaces couple finally score a home run
A/N: when I wrote Different Spaces (over a YEAR ago? đđ) I fully intended for them to fuck, but apparently, no, they needed three whole drabbles to themselves. anyway, enjoy! Thanks to @amethystwrytes for beta-ing for me!
Different Spaces (1); Scoreboard (2)
* * *
âPlease,â you gasped, voice still high and tight, breath caught in snatches. âPlease, can we fuck now?â Â
And the starting pistol was fired. You moved off the sofa and Chan moved with you, stumbling towards your bedroom, though he didnât know why. Didnât know why the sofa wouldnât suffice, why it was somehow sullied now. Didnât care. As long as this happened, kept happening, as long as he got to see you and hear you and touch you some more; his desire yawned open in his chest, awake and hungry. Let out of its cage.Â
These past months, away from you, Chan had thought was for the best. His confusion and these feelings that he didnât believe, didnât understand, he didnât want to face you with them. Didnât want to face them at all. Because it wasnât what you were. You were friends. That was all and he didnât want to ruin it. Thought that he was sure to, somehow. Â
But now it was a tangle of limbs and sticky skin against sticky skin. All sweat and salt and a kind of feverish urgency he hadnât expected, hadnât even dreamt of. He had kept his feelings on lock-down, thought they might go away if he didnât prod at them, didnât acknowledge them, but he couldnât ignore them now: now with your mouth on him like that, with your hands roaming his body, as he swallowed your moan down his throat. Â
This pent-up desire was free and he was dizzy with it. Tripping over his feet and tumbling to the mattress on top of you; making up for his clumsiness with kisses on every inch of skin his lips could reach.Â
And you, asking, begging, again, one more time, still, even when his lips crushed yours and cut off your words; the second you broke free, you were saying it again. Fuck me. And he was going to, was about to, was pushing himself to his knees and then it hit him.Â
âOh shit,â he breathed, sitting back on his heels with a sigh, hands braced on his knees to try to catch his breath.Â
âWhat?â you asked, similarly panting. âWhat?âÂ
âCondom?âÂ
âFuck!âÂ
He watched you twist, your legs trapped between his, to scramble at your bedside unit. He watched your hand search and come up empty, drag open the second drawer and repeat its motions. Â
âDo you have one?â you asked, head turned away, struggling to get to the bottom drawer without moving off the bed completely.Â
âWhy would I have one?â Chan asked back in a squawk though he wasnât sure why he suddenly felt self-conscious, defensive even. Â
âI donât know; donât guys carry them in their wallets or something?âÂ
âYouâre my friend; wouldnât it be weird if I came here with a condom?âÂ
You turned to look at him, then. Sat up, naked, still squared in with his knees either side of you. You looked at him. Blinked.Â
âI don't know, dude, you tell me what the fuck weâre doing here, then.âÂ
And it came out harsh. Chan blanched. Because what were you doing? Were you really asking? Had this ruined it? Because he felt guilty that he didnât have a condom in his wallet. Like he usually did. Always did, though he couldnât really have said why. It was the same fucking condom he had in his old wallet that he transferred over to the new one. The same one that he looked at before coming here tonight. That he wouldnât have thought twice about beforeâwouldn't have even remembered it were there. But it was you and something was different and something told him that he shouldnât go to your place with a condom in his wallet as if he expected something. As if something could ever happen between you. It was presumptuous. It was arrogant. It was foolhardy.Â
But nothing about the night had gone the way he had expected it to and now... That fucking condom. If only he had it. Â
âSorry, youâre rig-â Â
Apologising on reflex, his chin dipping to his chest, because heâd only gone and fucked it up by overthink-Â
Then your hand was on his face and your lips on his, your fingers sneaking into your hair. Â
âItâs fine,â you murmured. âItâs fine.âÂ
And he didnât know if it was, but you kept kissing him all the same, so he kept kissing you back. Was it fine if this was as far as it went tonight? His cock said one thing and his head said another. Maybe it was better this way, he thought. Maybe rushing headlong into sex would be a bad idea. Mayb-Â
You pulled away.Â
âIâve got some,â you whispered, your urgency returning as you scrambled off the bed. âOne sec.âÂ
Oh, thank god. He watched you walk away, the fingers of one hand encircling his hot, heavy shaft, unconsciously, automatically, unable to stop himself. Unable to stop his heart racing as he looked down and remembered your own fingers around him. The softness of your skin. The jolt of arousal when you had teased him, like you usually did but also nothing like that.Â
You returned before he had time to think more and extracted one shiny packet from a box which you then let fall to the floor. There was something about you that was shy: lips a little pursed, eyes looking away. He knew you well enough to tell that much. Â
âForgot I had these,â you said quietly, still not looking at him as you knelt on the bed and made your way towards him. âBought them earlier.âÂ
Chanâs shock made him laugh.Â
âIn anticipation of this...?âÂ
âNo!â your denial was swift. âNo, it wasnât like that! I wasnât planning anything! I just-âÂ
But he didnât care. Was laughing because it was he all night who had been flustered by this. It was he who kept saying the wrong thing, wrongfooted all the time by the turn the night had taken. He enjoyed it being you. Enjoyed that the dynamic between the two of you didnât have to be entirely different. You could still tease him. He could still tease you.Â
âI didnât plan this,â you said, performatively sullen, pouting.Â
âBut you want it, right?âÂ
You laughed and pushed him back towards the head of the bed, not bothering to answer with words. You made him sit, made him once again cede control of his cock to you; he let your fingers wrap around him, watched as you stroked him slowly, as your wrist twisted. His eyes fluttered closed for a second, just a second, and when he opened them again, you had the condom packet between your teeth, tearing it open with your free hand. It was boring, reallyâa mundane gestureâbut his dick throbbed, a drop of precum leaking from the top as you spat the empty packet away from you.Â
âYou sure about this?â you asked, with the tip of his sheathed shaft at your entrance.Â
He nodded eagerly, barely able to stop himself lifting his hips to push into you himself. Then he stopped nodding, flicked his eyes to you because why were you asking? Â
âArenât you?â he replied, a swoop of doubt flying through his guts.Â
You nodded back.Â
âIâm sure.âÂ
A swoop of relief.Â
âIâm sure.âÂ
And then he placed a hand on your hip and used his other to hold himself steady, so you could sink down on him, slowly, with a long moan stretching to the ceiling. And, truth be known, if he could have, he might have asked for a second, just a second, to get used to it. The feeling of you. All warm and wet and tight and your burning skin so soft, and your lips so sweet and your eyes dark and sparkling like the brightest night sky. And his heart hammering in his chest like time was running out; his blood boiling, reduced to a thick, sticky syrup that he told himself wasnât love, not exactly, but wasnât entirely not. Just a second to gather himself not just because you felt so good but because it was you.Â
You didnât give him a second. No sooner than you had lowered than you raised yourself up again; you set an impatient pace, urgent, running towards something at breakneck speed. Chan, too, then was running. Chan, too, was urgent in his kisses, in his praise, in the way your name caught at the back of his throat when he felt your walls squeeze around him. Â
He wished heâd had longer to think about it. Because he hadnât given himself the chance to imagine this, to get used to the idea of it, to think about how good you would feel, how sweet you would taste. He hadnât had the opportunity to picture you in his head before you were right there in front of his very eyes. Real. More than real. A kind of hyperreal that made him able to smell the sound of you and hear your taste. He could feel every one of your gasps in his chest. He could moan out the taste of your skin. He could smell your hair and it would feel like satin. Â
It wouldâve been less overwhelming, he thought, if heâd given himself an imaginary dry run-through. He would be doing better if heâd had a second. If he got a second to get himself together, heâd be able to get over the shock of it. Heâd be able to get a hold of his senses and-Â
You slowed. Sank down on him, as deep as he could get, and took his face between your palms. Took his lips between yours then slipped your tongue between them. Rolled your hips and moaned into his mouth. It was the tiny bite of pain when your teeth sank into his bottom lip that brought him to his senses. Like the tug on his hair before, the little jolt was enough to bring him around and he pulled back, determined once more to make the most of this for you. Â
âI wanna move,â he said, mumbling the words against your mouth in a final kiss before you slipped off him. Â
The fact that you then knelt, waiting to be told where he wanted you, made his guts clench. He traced his fingers lightly over your face and then pushed at your shoulder, encouraging you onto your back. He slipped his hands beneath your ankles and lifted, your knees bending as your thighs reached your chest.Â
âThis ok?â he asked.Â
You nodded, settling your ankles over his shoulders, then crossing them and using them to pull him towards you. He laughed, because it was just like you, to never let him get the last word, to never quite let him be in control. He laughed because he liked it, in this capacity even more than any other. In the seconds before he sank himself back into your hot, wet cunt, he imagined you testing him, pushing at that boundary because you could, because heâd let you, because he knew that you liked this as much as he did and if tussling for control was the game, he wanted to play. Even if he let you win.Â
As he snapped his hips with his hands tight around your calves, as your walls spasmed and clenched around him, as his ears filled with the slick squelch of his cock in your heat, his head felt clearer. Still hyperreal but in a way that made sense. When he tasted the sound of his name on your tongue, it tasted right. When he smelt the brush of your soft skin against his like roses, he knew. All his anxiety about fucking it up, ruining your friendship, everything that he had been hiding from while he was gallivanting about the globe, it was pointless. It was wrong. It was useless noise in his brain. Because heâd always believed he wasnât worth it, wasnât worthy of you, wasnât worthy of getting what he wanted. But there you were, beneath him, every bit what he wanted and more. Every bit his.Â
*Â Â
âYou know thereâs no going back now,â you said, lying on your bed, stretching your arms and legs long, still naked and glistening. Â
âWhat do you mean?â he asked as he returned to join you, condom neatly disposed.Â
You turned on your side to snuggle into him, pressed a firm kiss to his lips.Â
âThis,â you answered. âWeâve had sex now so you canât turn around to me and say you actually just want to be friends.âÂ
He laughed. It was preposterous to him that you might think he would be the one to change his mind. Â
âI donât want to be your friend.âÂ
âGood.âÂ
Then you piped up again.Â
âI never really liked you much anyway.âÂ
He chuckled, knew it was a joke; knew it because it was followed by a smile that was all syrup, that left a sticky sweetness on his mouth after you kissed him.Â
âFat chance Iâll believe that. Horse is out of the barn, mate; you just said it yourself: you canât take this back.âÂ
âFuck. I guess youâre stuck with me.âÂ
âI think I can live with that.âÂ
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PR Problem | LN4 smau
lando norris x reader
summary: in which lando's girlfriend is gorgeous, and he is not afraid to be horny on main
fc: madison beer
yourusername
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yourusername life recently :)
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yourfriend pretty girl
username1 youâre so gorjus
landonorris oh my god
landonorris i need you so bad
landonorris iâm coming home rn i canât take itđ«
username2 actually so down bad
maxfewtrell mate itâs been 2 days
landonorris please just one chance
landonorris on my knees for youđ§ââïž
oscarpiastri Zak just scheduled a PR training session for you
username3 LANDOâS COMMENTS OMGđ
username4 heâs so unhinged i love him
username5 how did lando pull her???
username6 heâs sick of the lando norizz allegationsđ
username7 wish my boyfriend was as down bad as lando is
randomfootballer wowđ
landonorris yeah you can fuck off
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y/nupdates Y/n in her latest photo shoot
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username1 how is she so gorgeous
username2 lando is so lucky
landonorris i knowđ
landonorris oh wow
landonorris is she single?
username3 one thing is certain in life: if thereâs a post about y/n, lando is gonna be in the comments
landonorris need her more than i need oxygen
landonorris iâll be a passenger princess for youđ«
danielricciardo SIMPđ«”
landonorris run me over with that car pls
username4 beautiful
username5 iâd kill to have her looks
username6 once again lando is thirsting
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f1wags Y/n spotted in Miami ahead of the race
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landonorris AWOOOGAđ€€đ€€
landonorris WOOF WOOF
landonorris GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE
oscarpiastri Zak is disappointed again
landonorris you could beat me up and iâd thank you
username1 looked at myself and sighed
username2 just spent 20 minutes laughing at landoâs comments
username3 life is so unfair
username4 nah fr cause sheâs pretty, nice, funny, has a good body, AND is dating an f1 driver
username5 PLEASE BE IN THE PADDOCK THIS WEEKENDđđ
username6 fav wag
username7 sheâs so out of landoâs league
username8 if lando was able to pull her, maybe the rest of us have a chance
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yourusername appreciation post for my handsome winnerđ
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landonorris i love you
landonorris iâm all yours
username1 iâm crying this is so sweet
username2 i love boyfriend lando
username3 THE NOSE SCRUNCHđ„č
username4 i love them
landonorris i did it for you babyđ«¶đ«¶
danielricciardo simp
landonorris yes, and?
username5 HE DID IT YESSSSSSS
username6 this is why youâre the best wag
username7 the difference in the way they compliment each other is crazy
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username1 sheâs glowing wow
username2 can lando fight??
username3 face card never declines
landonorris HOLYYY MOLYYYY
landonorris thatâs MY girlfriend everyone
landonorris omfg sheâs so sexyđ€€
landonorris i want her to wrap her legs around my headđ«
username4 sorry???
oscarpiastri right, thatâs enough instagram for today
username5 the horniness continues
username6 i need her to tell us her highlighter
username7 sheâs so perfect itâs unfair
username8 hair is always perfect
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Howâd they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationshipâŠ(platonic/romantic)
Dick: heâs insulted.
Gutted.
He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.
âDo you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?â Heâd say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. âIf itâs the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and donât call me dude or bro anymore.â
Heâd rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him youâre not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames thatâd make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasnât his name.
Heâs go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasnât. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.
Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She canât do her abcâs guys itâs a real tragedy.)
Jason: âI just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.â - Jason at some point.
Itâs a whole mood killer for him to be honest.
Heâs calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that heâs well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit youâve done together isnât platonic in any sort of way.
Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasnât)
Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as âjust a really good friendâ, âbuddy oâ mineâ or even worse than both of those; âchum.â đ
When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see whoâd call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.
Youâll probs get punishedâŠIâm just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that âpunishmentâ was exactly.
Damian:
As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if thatâs even possible.
Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. Heâs not your dude or bro, heâs your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.
So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.
âUntil you learn that I am your partner, I wonât want to be anywhere near you if youâre going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.â He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.
Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.
So itâs bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didnât, youâd still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.
He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.
He can take a joke but not when itâs aimed at his relationship. Heâs well and truly devoted to his relationship -if weâre to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.
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