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sanakiras · 5 months

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TREAT YOU BETTER

PAIRING — lee chan x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.7k

SYNOPSIS — your boyfriend of five months has been treating you like hell, and one of your closest friends, lee chan, refuses to let it go on any longer, taking matters into his own hands.

TAGS — college au, best friends to lovers, cheating, explicit sexual content, mutual pining, mentions of reader struggling with low self-esteem, cheesy stuff, yes i did come up with this after accidentally listening to treat you better by shawn mendes, this didn’t turn out as good i hoped it would but oh well!

NOTE — first fic here. he looks so good in the wait m/v so i wanted to write something for him :D my beloved

the slam of the door behind you rings through your ears. you try to wipe your cheeks dry, hoping you don’t look like the tearful mess you are.

your voice feels raw from yelling for the past hour or so. it’s been going like this for the past two months at least twice a week, and you’re exhausted because of it.

as the rain pours, you notice the familiar car driving towards you, bright lights feeling heavy on your eyes. you open the door without hesitation to let yourself sink into the passenger’s seat, taking a few deep breaths, all without looking at the driver.

but the quiet sobs escaping you are enough to give it away.

chan has his one arm leaning on top of the steering wheel, the other gently touching your shoulder to make you look at him, but you refuse.

“i’m fine,” you stutter out, sniffing from the cold, “really.”

of course you’re not fine. both of you are more than aware of the toxicity of the situation. you getting into arguments with your boyfriend several times a week, resulting in you calling chan and staying over at his apartment for a night, only to hear you make it up to the guy the next day when you weren’t even in the wrong to begin with.

“we have a different definition of that, then.”

“it was just an argument. we’ll work it out in a couple hours.”

“it’s not normal.” he says, trying to get it through your thick skull without raising his voice. “it’s not normal, baby.”

you sniff, trying to somehow get rid of the pain beating against your forehead. “he can be so mean, and then… then he’s so sweet again.”

chan wants to rip his hair out of his head. five fucking months of this have passed at this point, and he doesn’t know how much more of it he can take. he’s not sure how to handle the situation the right way, either.

he’s been in love with you for years. years. since sophomore year in high school. it was never his intention to fall in love with you, nor did he think he would, but he did, and god did he fall hard. embarrassingly hard.

nevertheless, he was always too afraid to make a move. too afraid that you’d reject him and he’d be out of your life forever like he was never there in the first place.

but he’s grown up now. third year of university, twenty-two years old, longer hair, a leather jacket and a solid bunch of experiences. some great, some he’d rather forget.

and so five months ago, he’d finally mustered the courage. he was finally going to own up to his feelings and tell you the truth.

only for you to excitedly come up to him, telling him you’re seeing this guy. and it made his heart sink in his chest, but he pushed his feelings to the side for your happiness.

or so he tried.

your boyfriend treats you like shit. he was sweet in the beginning — they always are.

then the cracks in the façade started to show.

it’s not that you don’t see it. you do — but it’s difficult to leave when someone knows just how to keep you where they want you. every time you tell yourself you’re gonna break up with him, he sweet-talks you and says things can be fixed, and that going through a rough patch is normal.

but chan knows better.

he just needs you to know better as well.

it breaks his heart to see his favorite person let herself get hurt like this. he becomes a little more torn with every sob leaving your body, every tear spilling from your eyes.

he gently puts the buds of his fingertips on your chin and jaw, slowly turning your face to him so he can look you in the eye.

the tears are still quietly running down your cheeks, your face numb, now devoid of any emotion, ashamed to have him see you in this state.

“you’re killing yourself like this.” he whispers, voice laced with concern. “he’ll never make you happy.”

you sniff from your breakdown. “maybe it’s me. maybe i just need to stop giving him such a hard time—”

“don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

“please, chan, just… just go and get me somewhere else. all i need is some breathing space — please.” you beg him.

he wants to scream, wants to tell you to break up with him for good, wants to walk into that damn house and do it himself — but he can’t.

instead, he obliges, driving you to his place.

his cozy one-person apartment feels like the best place in the world to you — the one place where you can get away from everything else.

you watch chan as he locks the door behind him, then leaning against it for a moment as he watches you sit on the armrest of the soft chair. “you okay? want some tea?”

the corners of your lips curl up at the suggestion. he knows you awfully well. “that’d be great.”

his lashes flutter before he nods, kicking his shoes off by the door.

once he’s busy in the kitchen, you bite your lip as you recall the way he softly talked to you in the car, eyes trailing past the curves of his arms and the sharpness of his jawline.

he’s dated more than you have. not much in high school, but definitely during the past three years he’s spent at college. though it doesn’t surprise you. he has such warmth to him, with the beautifully infectious sound of his laughter, that big smile and some of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen.

it wasn’t until recently you began to see him in a different light. whenever you saw him with a new girl, arm around her waist or over her shoulders, you secretly imagined yourself next to him more than once. you can’t believe you didn’t take notice of how handsome he was before.

but you’re too much of a coward to tread over that line of friendship, too much of a coward to see if maybe, just maybe, your feelings are requited.

“wanna stay here for a while?” he asks, hoping you’ll at least spend the night here before you go back to your boyfriend, as you’ve done countless times before.

“yeah. don’t feel like going back yet.” you smile, trying to somewhat make light of the situation.

“then don’t.”

you sigh at his response. “it’s not that easy.”

“why not?”

“because i don’t wanna throw something away the second things get hard.”

“there’s a difference between hard and unbearable. your case is the latter.”

feeling backed into a corner, even though he hardly means to do so, you turn the topic on him. “you’ve had some rough experiences with past girlfriends too and you stuck around.”

god. if only you knew he ended up leaving them because he never enjoyed being with them as much as he enjoyed being with you. “you’d be surprised.” he mutters under his breath, pouring two cups of tea, making yours exactly as he knows you like.

when you stay quiet, he tries to think of a way to get it through your head that you need to break up with your resident ass of a boyfriend.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“what’s it going to take for you to leave him?”

the question makes you look up before using a tone that almost sounds like you’re scolding him. “chan.”

“i’m serious. he’s treating you like shit. you call me crying every week.”

“it’s just—”

“no, it’s not ‘just a tough time’. you know it isn’t.” he interrupts, jaw clenched tight but voice controlled. he will not yell at you like that piece of trash does. “he’s a controlling, manipulative asshole. it’s not gonna get better. if anything, he’ll just treat you worse in the future.”

“yeah, well, not all of us have people lined up.”

the words have left your mouth before you can comprehend it, leaving you to lower your head in regret. not that it’s any less true. to you, anyway.

“what, and i do?”

“don’t you?”

he’s not sure what baffles him more — you thinking that he’s got girls lined up to date him or you thinking that you don’t have anyone else out there that would be willing to date you.

“what’s this really about?” he sits down on the empty coffee table, facing you directly. “what does my dating life have to do with yours?”

“nothing — it doesn’t. i never said it did.”

“then why the comment about me having people lined up? which i don’t, by the way.”

the answer sits at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say it without looking away from him. “maybe not. but at least you won’t end up alone. i can’t say the same for myself.”

and there it is. the sole reason you’re still with the guy. your crippling fear of ending up alone, your heavy insecurity that makes you believe no one could possibly want you.

the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt — but he’d rather have you suffer through your first heartbreak than end up with someone who walks all over you like a doormat.

“please don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but if you think that low of yourself, you’re a little stupid.”

the comment makes you snort. “well, it’s certainly fitting.”

he wipes some of your half-dried tears away, his one hand remaining to cup your cheek, an alarmingly intimate gesture.

“aside from the fact that there’s nothing wrong or shameful about ending up alone... i need you to know that you’re worth it. you’re gorgeous and intelligent and—” he halts for a moment, in a way confessing his love for you, not caring how cheesy it sounds, “—you deserve everything you want. ‘cause you’re one in a million.”

fuck, has he always looked at you that lovingly?

his words catch you off-guard for a moment before you press your lips together. “as much as i think it’s sweet of you to say those things, you’re only saying them ‘cause you’re my friend.” you interrupt him, having made up your mind.

after which chan shakes his head, gently twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “i’m saying it because it’s true. any guy would be lucky to have you in his life.”

“i don’t think ‘lucky’ is the term my boyfriend would use.”

“yeah, ‘cause he’s a fucking dick.” he immediately comments, adding the next part with a softer tone. “if you were with me, i sure as shit wouldn’t be acting like that.”

that last sentence catches your attention, and chan realizes what he just said, suddenly very aware he’s treading on thin ice now.

but it had to come out one way or another.

though you seem to be going along with his words, not showing any signs of being uncomfortable with it. “and who’s to say you wouldn’t break my heart?”

he sees the intrigue on your face and decides to lean in closer. “if i broke your heart, i’d be breaking mine as well.”

“i’m not convinced.” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, and chan feels his heartbeat quicken.

every rational thought going through his mind is thrown out of the window the moment he catches you staring at his lips. it’s enough for him to put his hand on your lower cheek and smash his lips against yours.

he kisses you like he always imagined he would. perhaps a little too enthusiastically, but he’s waited too long for this moment to care.

and you’re kissing him back.

you both get hot from adrenaline and arousal. his hands roam down your hips, but when you start pulling on the collar of his jacket, he finally has it in him to break the kiss.

“are you sure you want this? i don’t want you to feel pressured—”

“i’ve wanted this for so long, chan. take it off, please.”

maybe he should pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. you’re underneath him, lips swollen, gazing at him like he’s your whole world and more.

he leans down again to pick you up, ensuring you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist so he can carry you to his bedroom.

once he lays you down on the soft bed, you watch him take off his jacket and throw his shirt over his head, leaving him with his chest bare, elastic waistband of his underwear visible.

he’s a dancer in his spare time, but you know he’s been hitting the gym recently as well, and it’s paying off, noticing his bigger biceps and toned abs.

then he chuckles from the way you’re observing him, and that smile — that beautifully big smile is what you fell in love with.

one of many things, really.

you remove your basic long-sleeved shirt, exposing your skin before him, enjoying the way he’s looking at the black bra you’re wearing underneath.

you’re seated at the edge of the bed, at eye-level with his chest, which you kiss softly.

he follows your actions like a hawk, unable to keep his eyes off you. he proceeds to move your hair behind your shoulder, his right hand finding your jaw when he kisses you again, lips trailing down to your neck and collarbone.

his touches are slow and sensual. at the end of the day, it’s your first time together, and you both notice the pressure and tension that comes with it.

you’re both aching to touch each other more already, but it feels so much better like this.

he gently pushes you to lay on your back, hovering over you to kiss down your chest and stomach, smoothly pulling down your skirt before his fingers hook onto the fabric of your lace underwear.

“what’d you want me to do, pretty girl?” he asks while getting rid of your panties, looking you in the eye as he does it.

the nickname makes you shiver. “you can do anything you wanna do.”

“wanna eat you out. bet i’m better at it than that motherfucker.”

“not hard to beat when he never does it at all.” you mumble to yourself, but he hears it.

“are you kidding? has he ever even made you cum?”

you just give him a deadpan stare that has a hint of embarrassment to it, which is enough for him to know the answer.

just being aware of how bad that fucker treats you makes him want to prove to you that he can make you feel so, so much better. and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do.

he wastes no time, spreading your legs so his tongue can get to work. you shiver at the feeling of his mouth on you, biting your lower lip to not squeal already from sensitivity.

“no. none of that. i wanna be able to hear every sound you make.” he says after taking your hand away from your mouth. “you can pull on my hair if you like.”

“do you like that?”

“yeah, i enjoy a bit of pain.”

that makes you giggle a bit. “you masochist.”

to which he responds with a gentle pinch to your skin. “keep it in mind for next time, baby.”

fuck — you definitely will.

your hands run through his soft black hair. you’ve locked your legs behind his head, hips bucking up a little every time he hits a spot that feels good, his warm breath and wetness of his mouth on your pussy turning you on like crazy.

chan is pretty sure he’s descending into heaven when he hears you moan his name for the first time. he doesn’t know how many times he’s fucked his fist imagining that sound.

so he adds a finger to the warm and wet mess between your legs, sliding in easily, biting his own lip as he watches your reaction to it. you’ve got your head thrown back, one hand fisting the sheets, the other still holding his locks.

then he moves to a second, and not much later he’s got three of his fingers pumping in and out of you, arching them a little to find the right spot, rubbing and sucking on your clit.

“does that feel good?” he asks, just a bit out of breath, which is nothing compared to the writhing mess that’s you. he keeps messing with the pace, edging you a little every time, making you go crazy.

“please, channie, please let me cum—”

“i will if you answer me, baby.”

you whine, nodding at him desperately. “feels s’good, so fucking good.”

“want me to go faster?”

“please. god—need you inside me so bad.”

even he can resist so much. you’re so good for him, so he increases the pace of his fingers, relishing in the way you start squirming underneath him, trying to push him away and pull him closer all the same.

then you pull on his hair almost violently, making him moan against your pussy as you hit your first climax in a long time.

and he doesn’t stop yet — only once he sees you’ve regained focus does he pull his fingers out of you, sucking on them to savor the taste right before kissing you again, your trembling body aching for him.

he only breaks the kiss to reach for the drawer in his nightstand, grabbing a condom out of it, getting off of you to push off the last pieces of clothing still on him. the realization of the fact that your best friend is about to fuck you after god knows how long finally begins to dawn on you, and it makes your heart beat that much harder.

once he’s slipped the condom on, you move your hands to his neck and shoulders, biting your lip when you feel him push your legs behind his waist.

you gasp when he bottoms out of you for the first time. his head is buried in the crook of your neck as he finds his rhythm, sucking at your sensitive skin, not giving a damn whether he leaves marks on someone that’s technically not even his.

yet.

“do you remember that time we went to senior prom together?” he asks breathily, not slowing down even a little bit. “you were wearing that pretty blue dress. god, i wanted to take you home that night more than anything.”

you remember that. it was just before you two graduated high school together — he looked so dashing in his suit. you’d even imagined kissing him underneath the basketball bleachers like some cliche rom-com.

“so why didn’t you?”

“was too much of a pussy to do it.”

you bring yourself to chuckle inbetween your moans. “that’s a shame. i would’ve let you.”

just knowing that his feelings are reciprocated turns him on. he lifts his head up a little, kissing the front of your neck, your jaw, your cheeks — everything, only halting for a moment when he fucks you just a little faster, watching the way your eyes roll back from pleasure.

your hands run over his strong back as he pushes in and out of you at a steady pace, your lip nearly bleeding from how hard you’re biting it.

he hisses and relishes in the burning feeling of your nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“chan—god, harder, please—”

“i know, baby, i know, i got you.” he breathes out, changing up the position by hooking your legs over his shoulders.

it hits the exact right spot when he fucks you again, harder and deeper this time, your hands desperately clinging onto his skin, teeth sinking into your lower lip until they're nearly drawing blood.

beads of sweat roll down his muscular back. he feels you’re getting closer to hitting that release, so he moves one hand down to rub your clit again, aching to see you fall apart underneath him.

“fuck, ’s too much, channie—” you whine, throwing your head back in the pillow for a moment.

but he shakes his head, continuing, knowing you’re close. “you can do it, pretty girl. cum for me again. i wanna feel it.”

and he discovers that begging you works wonders, because it’s enough for you to come undone, clamping on his dick, making it feel so tight that he spills his own release into the condom mere seconds after.

with a layer of sweat on your foreheads, he feels how sensitive you are when he pulls out. he throws the condom in the trashcan, turning his face back to yours and kisses your lips more softly this time.

“how do you feel?”

“a little worn out.” you sigh, proceeding to show a smile. “but better.”

“good. how do you feel about taking a bath?”

“sounds nice.”

chan can’t help himself and leans in to kiss you again. he’s already getting awfully used to this, but one issue remains. “i wanna be with you. i meant everything i said tonight.”

the sentiment warms your heart. he’s always had that effect on you. “i know. i wanna be with you, too.”

he nods, happy with your words. “you go on ahead to the bathroom. i’ll clean things up here.”

“okay.” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his cheek before leaving the bedroom, feeling utterly lovesick.

he shares your feelings — it’s like he’s reliving that exciting feeling of seeing you the first few days after he realized he was in love with you.

there’s something that pulls him out of it, though. a certain vibrating sound. what is that? he thinks to himself.

and after looking around the room, he discovers it’s a phone receiving a call. your phone, to be exact, sitting in the back pocket of the jeans you discarded earlier.

the screen of your cellphone lights up, and he picks up the device, about to let you know someone’s calling — but his voice gets caught in his throat when he notices it’s the asshole who made you cry in the first place.

scoffing to himself, he taps the red button and declines the call.

thank you for reading. x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

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sailingwithu · 3 months

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#shawn mendes #muscles #hairy #biceps #male beauty #hairy armpits #huge arms

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nhlclover · 3 days

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i don't even know your name | will smith

word count: 1.84k

summary: after will sees you at a party, he can't get you out of his head despite not knowing your name

warnings: one curse word, descriptions of reader having auburn hair

notes: based on 'i don't even know your name' by shawn mendes. after he came out with noah kahan in toronto, i've been listening to shawn's old albums non-stop.

The music thumped from inside the house, slightly muted to Will and the other patrons in the backyard. The warm glow of string lights overhead illuminated the scene, casting a soft, inviting ambiance over the backyard. Will lined up the shot, raising his arm and tossing the ping pong ball towards the cups at the other end of the table. The ball bounced off the rim of a red solo cup and onto the grass below.

“You are so bad at this, man.” Ryan groaned.

“Fuck off dude.” Will retorted.

Will didn’t want to be at this party if he was being honest. He had a paper to finish and a project to work on. If it wasn’t for Gabe practically guilt-tripping him into coming, Will would be sitting comfortably in their dorm and, if he was being honest with himself, he would probably be playing video games instead of doing his homework.

Gabe and the rest of the guys knew he didn’t want to be there so they goaded him into playing beer pong, hoping that by the end of the first round, they’d have convinced him to stay. However, now nearing the end of the game, Will was anticipating the moment he got to leave. Standing in the backyard, amongst the smokers and those watching their game of pong, Will truly wanted to leave.

“Will, you’re up,” Jacob said, pulling Will from his brief daze. He looked down at the table, noticing that Ryan had gotten them one cup away from a win, which would allow Will to go home.

Will lined up the shot, taking this one more seriously than any past shot. He steadied his hand, aiming for the sole plastic cup at the back of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Will spotted the sliding door open. His eyes flicked over to the entrance, stopping on your figure as you emerged into the dimly lit backyard. The soft glow of string lights illuminated your silhouette as you stepped onto the back porch, casting a gentle halo around you.

Will's hand paused in mid-air, the ping-pong ball balanced precariously on his fingertips. Gabe, Ryan, and Jacob groaned in frustration.

"What's wrong with you, Will? Take the shot!" Ryan groaned.

Will blinked, tearing his eyes away from the allure of the girl on the porch. “Sorry…just thought I saw something.”

The boys followed Will’s unwavering gaze to the porch, immediately spotting what had captured his attention. “That’ll make him want to stay.” Jacob said under his breath.

“Go talk to her.” Gabe said.

Ryan shook his head, clamping a hand on Will's shoulder. “No, no. Don’t try and get out of this right before Smitty and I are about to win.” Ryan said. “Finish the game first, then he can go flirt.”

“You’re robbing him of a chance at love.” Gabe challenged. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about being on the verge of losing in beer pong to Ryan who he knew would be bragging the whole night due to his ever-competitive spirit. However, he also really wanted to witness his friend attempt to chat up a girl.

“He can go talk to her after we win!” Ryan said.

Will cast another glance back at you on the porch, watching the shadows dance across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones and the delicate arc of your smile. You seemed to be in deep conversation with a few other girls, giving Will peace of mind that he could quickly make the shot and then go talk to the pretty girl who had completely hijacked his attention.

However, with said attention now split, when Will took his shot he completely airmailed it. The game continued, Will casting occasional glances at you, relief washing over him when you remained on the porch. His turn came once again, this time putting his complete focus on the shot. With a flick of his wrist, Will sent the ball through the air, landing in the cup before Gabe or Jacob could attempt to interfere. Ryan pulled Will in, jumping with the blond nestled under his arm. When Ryan was done with his over-the-top celebrating, Will shoved him off.

“Can I go now?” He asks his friends.

Ryan rolls his eyes, while Gabe and Jacob wave him off, encouraging their friend to talk to the girl who had captured his attention. However, when Will turned to look at you, his eyes came up empty. You had disappeared from where Will had last seen you. He scanned the rest of the backyard in hopes that you had ventured further, however, Will’s heart sank as that was also futile.

He moved inside, searching the kitchen, then the living room for your presence. Or even the presence of your friends who could potentially tell him where you were. Despite his efforts, he found no one. Not you, not your friends. Will returned to the backyard, a sense of defeat washing over him. Will found his friends in another round of beer pong, this time with a girl having taken his spot as Ryan’s teammate.

Will stood next to the table, watching as Ryan guided the girl's arm, aiding her in making a shot. “She’s gone.” Will told them, voice tinged with disappointment.

Gabe exchanged a sympathetic look with Jacob before coming over and patting Will on the back. "Sorry, man,” Gabe said, sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll see her around?”

Will could only shrug, feeling as though he wasn’t going to. Regret gnawed at him, as well as a slight sense of resentment towards Ryan, as he couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve been if he had seized the moment when he had the chance.

Weeks passed since the party and Will was genuinely considering checking himself into a psych ward over you. Ever since the first glimpse, you’d woven yourself into the fabric of Will’s thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to shake you from his mind. Will was genuinely baffled at the way you’d become a constant presence in his mind. He’d always prided himself on being a fairly level-headed and rational guy, especially on the ice. However, he now found himself fixated on a girl he had only seen briefly.

He didn’t even know your name.

Will felt as though he had to find you, had to unravel the mystery of who you were and why you had such a powerful hold over him. There’d been several times when Will thought he’d seen you. Where he caught a glimpse of auburn locks and nearly ran up to them thinking it was you. But it never was.

During an away game in Maine, he thought he saw you. He spotted a cascade of auburn hair amidst the crowd and nearly completely abandoned the play at hand to get another glimpse. When Will brought it up to his linemates during the intermission, they could only laugh at his suggestion, reminding him of the miles between them and the sheer impossibility of you being there.

Will tried his best to push the idea of you from his mind, trying to force himself to move on and forget about the girl whom he’d decidedly conjured up in his mind. Will fully focused his mind on hockey and schoolwork, which is how he found himself in the library for the first time. He wandered the rows of tables, trying to find a relatively empty spot that he could settle into and work on his assignments.

Will’s eye briefly caught a glimpse of auburn hair but didn’t pay much mind to it. Every other time he’d believed he’d seen you, it turned out to be a doppelganger. But upon a second glance, he couldn’t believe it. He blinked, almost convinced that his bogged-down mind had conjured up the image of you. But as he took a closer look, Will realized it was indeed you—your hair cascading down her shoulders, the exact smile he’d seen on your face that night was back on your lips as you talked with your friends.

Will’s heart race quickened in his chest, the sound loud in his ears. As Will contemplates approaching you, a sudden realization washes over him that he hasn’t thought about what he’d say to you. In his mind, Will envisioned countless scenarios where your paths intersected, where your eyes met, and conversation flowed effortlessly. But in none of these dreams did he consider the stark reality of the moment where he would admit his feelings without the safety net of prepared words. Will grapples with the scenario, knowing that every second of hesitation is a missed opportunity. He can’t wait like he did last time.

Will finds his feet carrying himself in your direction before he knows it. Every last ounce of courage was summoned as he approached you. Will stops at the end of your table, yours as well as your friends' attentions turning to the blond.

"Um, hi," he started, his voice betraying the nervousness he felt. Your eyes, however, were soft as you waited for the blond to continue. "I couldn't help but notice… you seem familiar. Have we met before?"

That was a lie, obviously. Will knew they’d never interacted. But it was his sole attempt at making his presence seem natural. Your lips quirked into a small smile, and he felt a surge of relief at her response. "I don't think so," you replied, your voice soft and melodic. "I'm y/n."

Will’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your name, a name he had longed to know since the moment he first saw you. "I'm Will," he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, Will," you said, returning his smile. There was something about the way you said his name that sent a shiver down his spine.

Emboldened by your friendly demeanour, he decided to take a leap of faith. "Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime? Maybe we could… catch up on all the times we haven't met before," he added with a sheepish grin, hoping his attempt at humour would lighten the mood.

Your smile widened, and a playful glint danced in your eyes, appreciating the boldness of the boy who’d approached you. "I'd like that, Will," you said. "How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"That sounds perfect," he said, unable to contain the grin that spread across his face.

As you exchanged contact information, Will couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within him. Will said goodbye to you, as well as your friends that he’d, in all honesty, had forgotten were there. As Will walked away from your table, his heart felt like it was doing cartwheels in his chest. He couldn't believe what just happened — finally mustering the courage to approach you, and to his amazement, you were even more captivating up close. Will walked off, exhilaration coursing through his veins. So much so that he left the library and forgone his pending assignments, excited that he now knew your name.

#will smith #will smith hockey #boston college #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #san jose sharks #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #jacob fowler #will smith imagine

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mazeinthemiroh · 1 year

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So I had an idea 💡 so I was thinking what would be ateez ot8 reactions ( separate ) to you being broken up with and all they can think about is how much better they could treat and how much happier you would be with them

best friend! ateez wishing they were dating you

genre: headcanons; hurt / comfort??, slight angst, a sprinkle of crack

word count: 1k

song rec: treat you better by shawn mendes

warnings: cursing, woosan are bold, iconic kings

please like and reblog if you enjoy! thank you for your support <3

hongjoong

hongjoong has to hold his tongue each time you tell him you have a partner

because he has a problem with it. and he doesn't realise at first why he had such a problem with it

until you come to him crying because of the horrible breakup you were currently going through

he let you cry on his chest and cuddled you close for the rest of the night

... yeah, this is the guy who supposedly 'doesn't like skinship'

and yet here he is, wanting nothing more than for you to stay in his arms, where he can keep you close and safe

and thus, his feelings are realised. and suddenly being jealous of all the guys you ever talked about started to make sense to him

seonghwa

seonghwa can't help but feel a little disheartened

seeing the people you end up with and how they always end in disaster, he feels bad for you, of course

but he can't help but feel you are missing out on a guy that has always treated you with love, respect, sincerity, kindness, and nothing less

*cough, cough* HIM *cough*

he will continue to comfort you and provide a listening ear as your... 'confidant'. but all he really wants to do is ask you to be with him instead, so that you'll know what it's really like to be in a good relationship. one that doesn't have an ending...

but he wants to choose an appropriate time to confess his feelings. so for now, he'll be there to dry your tears

yunho

yunho would literally take the complete piss out of your partners like he's so shameless

can and will laugh in your face when you whine about your relationship issues

because he knows they would all be solved if you go out with him

and he'll flirt with you and make jokes about you guys dating:

"you know, none of this would be an issue if you went out with me 👀" or "technically, we're on a date right now... as we speak... should we kiss?"

but you just take that as him being one of THOSE besties who just flirts for the sake of it

and he's giggling and laughing along but really he's dead-ass serious ☠

it's all fun and games ig??

yeosang

would focus more on your feelings than his own

he wants to comfort you and be a supportive friend; he's not going to let his feelings for you get the better of him when you're going through a relationship crisis or a bad breakup

and it doesn't really faze or hurt him at all. he's good at separating his feelings for you and being a comforting, good best friend

whether that's healthy or not is up for discussion!!

but unless you suddenly take a serious interest in him and make advances to him first, he's not going to go for it himself

because if he reads your signals wrong, he is at risk of ruining your friendship

and he would rather have at least one connection with you, rather than none at all

san

san is always there for you

especially when you have just broken up with your asshole partner that he hates so much anyway. he is there to cuddle you tight to his chest and comfort you, asking if you want him to beat your ex up, etc...

he's a great friend in this way. but he can't help but feel like he wants more

and so he hopes and wishes that you see his efforts. you appreciate his comfort and the way he's there for you whenever you need him - enough to not go out with anyone who isn't worth your time, but rather, go out with him

and he might just come out and say this because he can't bare to deal with another one of your heartbreaks

"this is where i want you to be," he'll say. "in my arms. every night. not just the nights you get dumped. you deserve so much better, baby. and i want to be the one to make that happen."

mingi

he literally loves you he loves you HE LOVVVESSS YOU

it's so obvious, come on guys

when mingi has a crush on somebody it's painfully obvious, it's actually hilarious

so you ignoring his adoring eyes and his attempts to make goofy jokes only to see your smile, and the way he buys you gifts and dotes on you and does anything for you ITS SO OBVIOUS

but yeah, stay blind ig?

he will flinch every time you mention your partner or your ex only because that pulls him right back into the reality that he is, in fact, not dating you currently

then he gets pouty but tries his best to hide his disappointment about the situation and fails lmao

wooyoung

will get frustrated. like, superrrr frustrated

because he has a massive phat crush on you BUT he has to hear about all the people you've dated and blah blah blah

ON TOP OF THAT!!!! he gives you advice on how to fix your relationships that pretty much inevitably fail anyway?? nope, he's defo losing it

for the longest time, he's always wanted to just ask you out himself. but there was never a good time. between you going out with people and recovering from break-ups, he never deemed it appropriate

but after what felt like the thousandth time of you crying about some asshole who had broken your heart, wooyoung had finally given in to his desires

"you're not going to waste any more energy on someone who doesn't care about you. instead, you're going to use it on me, your new boyfriend."

jongho

jongho is hilarious in this situation

because he's so subtly trying to make it clear that he likes you in his own... special way

he's not always sure how to go about it

to be fair, he's a very good supportive friend. he provides with the consolation and comfort you need when you come to him with relationship problems or are going through a breakup

but he also tries to use this as an opportunity to give you hints here and there

"you know... the love of your life might be closer than you think 👀"

"maybe your next partner is with us right now 👀 👀 👀"

".... but it's just me and you, jongho."

" 👀 isn't that interesting, y/n"

i literally can't take him seriously atp

ateez taglist: @a-wandering-stay, @xlovehwa, @yeosangsbiceps, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @hawaiian-angel, @chammak-challokys

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year

Text

Any Time You’re Ready

After another lousy date, Oliver’s parents remind him that love might be closer than he expects.

Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: none, fluff, kissing, embarrassing parents

A/N: Inspired by the Shawn Mendes song “When You’re Ready” because I’m obsessed with “What if my dad is right/When he says that you're the one”

“Goodnight, Oliver.”

“G’night, Casey.”

The girl stepped into the green flames in the Wood family fireplace, called out her address, and was gone. As soon as the flames resumed their usual orange tint, Oliver turned around and strolled into the kitchen. He found his parents, sharing a slice of cake and sipping tea. Their heads snapped up as he walked in.

“So, what’d you guys think?” Oliver grinned as his parents.

“She seemed nice,” his mom answered with a shrug.

His dad nodded. “Yeah, Cadie seems like a nice girl.”

Oliver’s face fell. “Casey, Dad. Her name’s Casey.”

“Right, right.” His dad took a sip of tea, clearly not embarrassed by his mistake. “But what about-”

“Dad, stop,” Oliver groaned. He already knew what his dad was going to say; he said it every time Oliver showed interest in a new girl.

You and Oliver grew up next door to each other and had been best friends from the time you could walk. Going to Hogwarts only brought you closer together, with all the time you spent together both in and out of the classroom, practically attached at the hip. And both of your parents had been convinced for years that the two of you belonged together.

Oliver’s dad held up his hands in defense. “’m just saying, son. I don’t know why you bother going out with these other girls. You’ve already got a great girl right next door. You’ve been friends since you were born. And everyone knows a friendship like that is the foundation of a solid relationship. Just look at me and your mother.”

“Dad,” Oliver said slowly. “You asked Mum out on your very first day at Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, and we were friends for the whole trip on the Hogwarts Express before that. Good foundation, like I said.”

“Right.” Oliver grabbed a tin of biscuits from the counter. “Well, ’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.” He waved at his parents and headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

He should have been more surprised to find you lying on his bed, reading a book.

“How was your date?” you asked casually, eyes still on your book as he closed the door behind him.

“Fine,” he answered, crossing the room to close the window you had climbed through. He lied down next to you and opened the tin.

You took a cookie and shoved it in your mouth. “What do we think? Potential girlfriend?”

Oliver shrugged, helping himself to a cookie. “Probably not,” he admitted.

“It’s just as well,” you said, closing your book and tossing it on his nightstand. “She’s a bit of a dolt, if you ask me.”

A snort flew out of Oliver’s nose. “I don’t remember asking you.”

You elbowed him. “Well, you should’ve. I could’ve saved you a night of ‘Oh Oliver, you’re soooo funny, let me grab your muscles.’” You let out a fake high-pitched giggle and squeezed Oliver’s arm.

He warmed at your touch. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he had finally admitted it to himself when he was fourteen: Oliver Wood was in love with you. So for the last two years, he tried to act normal, like he wasn’t thinking about you every second of the day, like you were just his best friend and nothing else.

But laying on his bed with you right next to him made it really hard to pretend.

“You’re so mean,” he laughed, trying to sound even. “Casey’s a nice girl.”

“Yeah, but she’s not right for you.” You wrinkled your nose.

Oliver turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, facing you. “Oh, and you know what’s right for me?” he challenged.

You mirrored his pose, your nose close to his. “Of course I do. That’s what best friends are for.”

He felt a little tug on his stomach at the word friends. “Yeah, sure,” he scoffed, trying to play off the sting he’d felt every time you called him your friend over the last two years. “What about you? Any dates so far this summer?”

“A couple,” you admitted. “Nothing worth mentioning.” You flipped back onto your back, gazing at Oliver’s ceiling. “Why do we have so much trouble dating?”

Oliver stared at your profile, admiring the shape of your adorable nose and your perfect lips. “What d’you mean?”

“Well,” you sighed, “think about it. We’re both very good-looking, popular enough, definitely not idiots. Yet neither of us can get more than a couple dates out of a person. What gives?”

“Mmm.” Oliver thought a moment. He knew why none of his dates panned out, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you, the most beautiful and perfect girl he knew, didn’t have a boyfriend.

Not that he minded.

“It’s not like I don’t have theories,” you continued, ignoring Oliver’s non-response. “Personally, I think you’re just too good for any of the girls at school.” Oliver felt his cheeks go warm again. “As for me, I’m going to go ahead and blame you.” You turned your head and smiled at your best friend.

“Me?” he asked with a dry chuckle. “How do you manage to blame me for your lack of boyfriend?”

You shrugged. “Think about it. Boy, girl. Best friends. Boy is good-looking and could probably beat up most of the boys in our year.” You popped another cookie in your mouth. “So, no one wants to date his girl best friend.”

Oliver stared at you a moment. Despite the fact that he definitely did not want to see you all cozied up with any of the boys at school, he couldn’t help feeling bad. If you wanted a boyfriend, you should have one. He never wanted to get in the way of your happiness.

It was as though you could feel his guilt. “It’s alright though,” you assured him with that sweet smile you usually reserved for Oliver. “Not like any of those boys are worth my time anyways. You’re the only decent boy in our year honestly.”

“Oh really?” he asked in a teasing voice, as though his heart was not hammering. The two of you had been doing this a lot lately: compliments, teasing just this side of flirting, skittering around a line no one was quite willing to cross, playing a game of chicken neither of you was willing to lose.

Tonight, you were the one who broke first. “So what’d your parents think of Casey anyways?” Your eyes were back on the ceiling of Oliver’s room, following the wizards flying around his Puddlemere United poster.

“They thought she was nice,” he answered, following your gaze. “My dad’s just disappointed that she’s not-” Oliver stopped himself, his eyes darting back to you.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Not what? Smart?” A smirk played on your lips.

Oliver thought a moment. You weren’t a mean girl typically. You were sweet, and you had plenty of girlfriends. The only people you were mean about were… well, the girls Oliver dated. The gears turned in his head as he calculated the risk he was about to take.

“Well, not you,” he finally admitted. “Dad’s disappointed she’s not you.”

“Oh.” You blinked a few times. Oliver could see the rapid thinking behind your expression. “And… what about you?” You sat up and looked down at Oliver, all the playfulness gone from your eyes.

Oliver heaved himself up as well. “I… I mean…” He licked his lips and sighed. Just spit it out, he told himself. “Sometimes I wonder if my dad’s… right?”

“Right about what?” You fidgeted with the hem of your t-shirt, a nervous habit Oliver knew well.

“He…” Oliver cleared his throat and took your hands in his. He saw your eyes flicker to them before meeting his gaze again. “He says that you’re the one.” Oliver winced, preparing himself for rejection and the end of your friendship, the thing he’d been dreading for two years.

“The one?” you echoed, your hands still in Oliver’s.

He nodded. “You know. The one.”

The smirk playing on your lips broke some of the tension between you. “What would that entail? If I was the one, I mean.”

His fears melted slightly at the sight of your small grin. “Well, it would probably start… with this.” Oliver closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against yours.

Much to his relief, you kissed him back, letting go of his hands and wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands settled on your hips. He could taste your bubblegum flavored Chapstick, the one he borrowed annoyingly often, and you could taste the chocolate from the biscuits that now sat forgotten near the foot of the bed.

When Oliver let go, he didn’t bother trying to play cool; instead, he grinned from ear to ear, not caring how goofy he looked.

Likewise, you couldn’t help the giggle that tumbled out of your mouth, your hands still on Oliver’s shoulders. “Starts with that, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s just the beginning.” Oliver leaned forward again, his mind racing with excitement. He laid back, pulling you on top of him-

“I think you mean that’s the end of the night,” came a voice from the door neither of you noticed opening.

Color rushed to your cheeks as you scrambled to sit back up, pushing Oliver off you. “Hey Mr. Wood,” you managed, as if he caught you making out with his son all the time.

Your best friend’s dad nodded pointedly. “You should probably head back out that window, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow. When you use the front door.”

With one last awkward smile to Oliver, you jumped off the bed and opened the window, clambering out the way you’d done millions of times before. Trying to be a gentleman (especially in front of his dad), Oliver watched carefully as you climbed down the tree by his window, tiptoed across his backyard, through the gate between your houses, and through your first-story window, where you disappeared after a quick wave in his direction. When Oliver turned around with that still dopey smile, his dad was still in the doorway, a smug grin on his face.

“Told ya so, son.”

#oliver wood #oliver wood fanfic #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood drabble #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic

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sissyisawitch · 3 months

Text

It'll Be Okay

Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x You

Summary: After the macabre events that occurred in the Feldcroft Catacomb, Sebastian is devastated. All he can think about is running away and pushing you away from him… but you don't plan to give up on him so easily.

Word Count: ~2.7k

Author's Note: This story is based on the song "It'll Be Okay" by Shawn Mendes. I hope you'll enjoy reading it!💙

Warnings: Major spoilers for the "In the Shadow of the Relic" quest + Angst

“I won’t let her suffer! Avada Kedavra!”

A flash of green light struck Solomon Sallow’s body, before it fell limp on the ground. Sebastian had done it. He had killed his uncle.

Oh, the future we dreamed of is fading to black…

He dropped his wand which clattered on the ground.

And just like that, you and Sebastian's future plans vanished, completely ruined. They used to seem so simple... you were supposed to cure Anne with the relic, make her return to Hogwarts, and then be happy all together with your little quartet of friends.

But as fate would have it, that was never going to happen.

A high-pitched, distraught voice brought you out of your thoughts, “Depulso!”

Anne had appeared in the Catacomb and apparently witnessed the whole tragic scene that had just unfolded, whereupon she herself attacked her twin brother, propelling him with all her might against one of the stone walls to stop him.

Driven by her fiery anger, she used what little strength she had left to cast a couple more spells to defeat the remaining Inferi and reduce Salazar Slytherin's Spellbook to ashes.

“NO!” Sebastian howled. He could do nothing but watch his sister destroy the book that was supposed to contain all the solutions to save her life.

“You’ve made your choice.” She said simply, before disapparating with the inert corpse of their uncle.

“Oh, Anne… What have you done?”

Oh, there's nothing more painful. Nothing more painful…

You were paralysed, unable to move even a finger after witnessing such a heartbreaking scene where a family was completely shattered, with no means or hope of ever repairing their ties. Poor Sebastian was left entirely alone, tears in his eyes, his face contorted by his crushing grief and regret. Merlin, you hated that sight with all your heart.

“I-I must get out of here.” He mumbled as he stood up and quickly looked at his surroundings, as if he were completely disorientated.

“Seb, wait!” You tried to hold him back, but Sebastian would not listen.

Instead, he fled. He ran like mad towards the exit of the Catacomb, desperate for fresh air.

“SEBASTIAN!” You shouted at the top of your lungs as you sped after him, hoping that it would be enough for him to hear you despite his head start.

It was only when you had made your way up the labyrinth of tunnels, once you were back in the Feldcroft countryside and away from the heavy atmosphere of the dusty Catacomb, that you managed to catch up with Sebastian.

Now that he was close at hand, you reached out to grab his arm, “Sebastian, stop!”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” He roared, sending your hand flying with more force than he would have used if he were in his normal state of mind.

You flinched out of reflex, but you were in no case scared of the boy. You never had been, and you knew you never would be. You understood that he was simply on edge and needed reassurance, so you kept your soft tone, “Seb–”

“STOP SAYING MY NAME!” He continued to shout in anger, but the way he was now gripping his hair and pulling at the roots showed that annoyance was being added to the palette of overwhelming emotions he was feeling at the moment. “For fuck’s sake I should’ve known better than to become friends with you in the first place.”

This. This last sentence. Maybe he could not scare you, but you too often forgot that he was still capable of hurting you, even if he did not mean any of it and it was his amalgam of panic and agitation that got the better of his words.

You tried your best to remain unfazed, “So what? You'd rather our paths had never crossed?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed without thinking twice.

I start to imagine a world where we don't collide…

For a moment, you lost yourself in your own thoughts. You imagined a parallel universe where you had never defeated Sebastian in Defence Against the Dark Arts, where he had never accompanied you to Hogsmeade on your first day at Hogwarts, and therefore a universe where you two had never become friends or exchanged a single word.

It also meant a world where you never fought trolls, goblins, and poachers together, where you never spent long nights in the Undercroft doing nothing but talking, where he never held you in his arms and comforted you whenever you were not at your best, resulting in your feelings for Sebastian blossoming into something much stronger and more genuine than friendship.

“Well, I don’t.” You finally answer.

“Well, you should.” He imitated your intonation with irritating impertinence.

You paid no attention to it, knowing better than to take any of his irrational actions into account, “Why?”

“BECAUSE I FUCKING RUINED YOUR LIFE!”

The screaming was back. Taking you by surprise once again. However this time, you were unable to react. The rawness and vulnerability of his words had hit you right in the heart, knocking the wind out of you.

“I have to go.” He muttered after your lack of reaction. He turned his back on you before setting off again, this time clearly determined to leave.

This was the moment that snapped you out of your stunned confusion, “Oh no, don’t you dare run away from me, Sallow!”

Your feet reacted even faster than your brain. You rushed towards him, but knew you would not have enough strength to hold him back, so you did the only best thing you could think of... You lunged at him and tackled him to the ground. Your body crashed into his with full force, causing his back to slam against the hard, cold, snow-covered ground.

“LET ME GO!” He fought back, kicking in all directions to try and push you off him.

“NEVER!” You pinned him down with all your strength. You were pressed on top of him while holding his hands on either side of his head, and keeping his thighs flat with your own legs. “Because you didn’t ruin my life, Sebastian.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I spent months teaching you dark magic. I just killed my uncle in front of you. You're a witness to a murder because of me! You could be sent to Azkaban BECAUSE OF ME! What more do you need to hate me? Tell me, because I'll do it right away if it means you'll stay away from me and be out of danger!”

And it's making me sick, but we'll heal and the sun will rise…

Sebastian's words made your blood run cold. Not because they made you reflect on everything he had put you through, but rather because you wondered how you were going to make him understand that you were not blaming him for anything, that the idea had never even crossed your mind.

“We can get past this. We can make things better together.” You said softly, unable to muster a better response.

He only scoffed bitterly.

“Sebastian, I don’t want to hate you, I want to be here for you!”

Judging that he seemed slightly calmer, you allowed yourself to release one of his hands to cup his cheek instead. With your thumb, you caressed his tanned skin, tracing the freckles splattered across his cheekbones. You did your best to convey your honesty and all your love for him through your delicate touch.

“No.” He replied firmly, leaving no room for negotiation, and then took advantage of your lowered guard to push you away again, this time with his hand which was now free. “Now leave me alone!”

If you tell me you're leaving, I'll make it easy…

You gave up being gentle and tackled him firmly to the floor again. You just needed him to listen to you for a few more minutes, “Okay. I won’t force you to stay if you don’t want to… But you need someone, Sebastian. Please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help!” He spat with a fury that was rarely seen in him. You had only seen it once... when he called you ignorant.

“Maybe you don’t want it, but you need it.” Now that everything had been said, you got out of his way to let him go if he so wished.

It'll be okay…

Sebastian sat up again, but stayed there, against all your expectations. You knew that all he needed was one last little push before he surrendered, so you insisted, “Don’t shut me out. Let me be here for you.”

“I–” His voice broke, giving way before he could even begin his sentence. His bottom lip quivered. “I didn’t mean to kill him. He attacked us… attacked you. I had to use the Killing Curse. You know I did!”

“I know. You did your best to protect me.” You reassured him by taking his hands in yours and giving them a little squeeze.

“I never meant for all of this to happen. I just wanted to help Anne.” It was not long before tears started to stream down his cheeks. “I want this hell to be over. Please make it stop.”

“I wish I could… but–” Now it was your voice's turn to fail you.

“I just want my little sister back.”

“I know you do… I know.” You swallowed hard to fight the tears that started to blur your vision. You could not allow yourself to cry. You had to stay strong for him. You had to be the pillar on which he could rest, because right now, he needed your help. If he saw you crying, it would only make things worse. This was not about you.

So you cuddled him against your chest, firstly to comfort him, and secondly so that he would not see the look of total dismay on your face.

“Ominis hates me too, and I can’t even blame him, because I hate myself too.” He was now full on breaking down, his head buried against your chest, and his tears streaming down your uniform jumper.

“I’ll love you enough for the two of us, then… until you learn to love yourself again, and even after.”

“I want the pain to stop. It’s been there for too long. I can’t stand it anymore.” The more time passed, the more erratic his breathing became.

“I know, baby. You’ve been so strong.” You kept spouting all the soothing words you could think of, in the hope that they would work on him.

“Please, make it stop. Please.”

“I’d take it all for you if I could. But I can’t, and I’m so sorry. I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel better.” You slowly ran your fingers through his silky brown locks, over and over again. Then you felt yourself losing your grip on your emotions, and soon your tears were flowing alongside Sebastian's.

Sebastian Sallow – the boy who was never afraid of anything and always had a trick up his sleeve – was on his knees in front of you, crying his eyes out, rendering him nothing more than the very image of misery and helplessness.

It was agonising to see the boy you loved in such a state, and not be able to do anything to make him feel better. How were you supposed to remain impassive in the face of that?

“Please fix everything. Fix me.”

“I can’t…”

And if we can't stop the bleeding… We don't have to fix it, we don't have to stay…

Sebastian's sobs continued unabated, “I’m scared to stay with you. I know I’ll end up doing something stupid and lose you too. Because that’s what I do… I do everything in my power to make the people I care about leave.”

This time, it was all too much. You could not let him belittle himself so cruelly. You grabbed his face between your hands and forced him to look straight into your eyes, not caring if they were red and swollen from all the crying, “Don’t say that. I know you made mistakes, but you’re one of the most brilliant wizards before anything else. You’re the only one who was great enough to steal my heart.”

“You’re everything I have left… I can’t lose you. Not you.” He clutched your shirt in his fists, as if he was afraid you would suddenly vanish before his eyes.

“Baby–”

Everything you were going to say died on the tip of your tongue... because Sebastian smashed his lips against yours.

You did not know exactly how it happened. You did not realise it right away because it occurred in less than a split second. And yet it was well and truly real.

There was nothing tender or romantic about that kiss. No, it was just rough, brutal and messy, reflecting all the despair they contained deep inside. It was a kiss full of passion, but not the kind that made you feel light and gave you butterflies in your stomach. Not at all, it was a toxic passion that burnt the wings off these butterflies and everything around them.

Sebastian was clutching you by the shoulders as if you were his lifeline, the only thing keeping him from tipping completely over into the darkness. And you, you kissed him back fervently, fighting the little voice in your head that was whispering to you that what you were doing was wrong, that you never should have discovered how salty his tears tasted as you kissed him for the first time.

You had to call a spade a spade, you should not be taking advantage of his vulnerability to get what you had always dreamt of... but you could not help yourself. Sebastian was hypnotic, and you could not bring yourself to pull away from him.

It was he who retreated first, and you instantly hated how his big chocolate eyes were filled with nothing but sheer panic, “I feel like I’m going to die without you… What if I die without you?”

Your heart pounded so hard to the point where it felt like you had a lump in your throat. You let out an overwhelmed and broken sob, “You’ll never find out because I’ll never leave you. You hear me? Never. I’m here for better or for worse.”

I will love you either way…

Sebastian let himself fall against your chest, and you welcomed him into your arms without the slightest hint of reluctance. You let him rest there, let him cry, tremble against you, while you caressed his untameable hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear, doing your best to stop your own tears from flowing. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, but it felt like an eternity. You were probably freezing and soaking wet from sitting in the snow for so long, but thankfully you were unable to feel it thanks to the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Shh… It'll be okay…”

It might be so sweet… It might be so bitter…

In the months you had known Sebastian, you had imagined an infinity of different scenarios of the two of you kissing for the first time. None of those fit with the reality of Sebastian breaking down in your arms after committing murder. The situation had nothing in common with what you had wished for the two of you. You had finally got what you wanted, but you hated it. You just wanted to scream. Fate was even more cruel than you believed.

"Make the pain go away, please." Sebastian begged desperately, echoing your own inner thoughts.

"I'll do everything I can. I’ll do everything to give you the future you wanted." You cried uncontrollably.

Oh, if the future we've dreamed of is fading to black…

Minutes, hours passed, and your tears eventually dried. You spoke again, very quietly, as if afraid to frighten the peace that was slowly beginning to return, “We’ll get through this together, alright?”

“…I’m a monster.” He declared with resignation. He too had run out of tears to cry.

“You’re not.” You replied with just as much conviction.

“What if I get even worse? What if I end up hurting you?” He asked quietly.

“I will love you either way.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow angst #hogwarts legacy fanfic #fanfic

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