All The Things We Did (A Sebastian Sallow FanFiction)
notes: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, set 10 years after the events of hogwarts legacy
please understand that this is my first fanfic and second book overall (first one is not available for public access as i'm still writing it) so please be kind and provide feedback ♥
you're also welcome to use any elements you want and incorporate them into your own story (except, probably, my MC lol without permission). i don't gatekeep. i'm writing this for fun.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, characters are 18+, explicit sexual content, phone sex, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, unprotected sex
A/N: this is in honor of reaching 2k reads on Wattpad! Also this is very dialogue heavy which isn’t my strong suit but I tried something new with this! It was so fun writing though :)
Summary: You live alone and one night you’re feeling lonely. Deciding to call the phone sex hot line, the last thing you’re expecting is who picks up on the other end—your best friend.
You paced your apartment a few times. Nights were when you got lonely, living in your own apartment with no roommates. But tonight, it was a different kind of lonely.
The aching-in-your-core kind of lonely.
The kind where you contemplated putting new batteries in your vibrator that you had run dead a few nights ago. But you weren’t sure that would even suffice this time.
You sat down, going to a website you know you shouldn’t go to when a flashing ad pops up in the corner. Kinky Connections Chatline with a glowing phone number beneath. The thought had crossed your mind before, but you had never tried it. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you dial up the phone number and you’re immediately hit with their dial tone as you wait to be connected. But as you wait, the regret starts to sink in—a pit in your chest and a lump in your throat form.
But before you can talk yourself out of it, the line connects.
And a smooth, familiar voice fills your ear. It’s dripping with sex as he breathes into the phone. “Hello there, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting for your call. What can I do for you tonight?”
Immediately, your blood runs cold, your heart stops. It’s him, you would recognize that voice anywhere.
Sebastian Sallow, your best friend. The only person in the world who knows you inside and out, who can make you laugh until you cry. And the one you secretly dream about.
You can’t help but gasp into the line. “Sebastian?” But then you hang up before he can answer.
Your cell phone drops to the floor in a quiet thud as it hits the carpet. You begin pacing again, wondering what the hell you had just gotten yourself into. The only sounds filling your apartment are your rapid breaths, each one more frantic than the last.
Had you really just called a sex hotline only to be met with the voice of your dearest friend? Your face burns crimson as you think about what he said.
The next thing you know, your cell phone is vibrating. You lean down to pick it up and are met with Sebastian’s name going across the screen.
Maybe if you just play it off, he won’t know it was you.
You slide your finger across the answer bubble and place the phone next to your ear, taking in a deep breath.
”Hey!” You say, trying to sound calm and collected.
“That was not how I imagined you finding out about my…other job.” His voice sounded more like him. “Are you okay?”
Fuck.
Your cheeks burn again. “Yeah I-I’m just embarrassed.”
”Don’t be embarrassed. I’m the one who should be embarrassed. My best friend just called me for phone sex,” he laughed.
His laughter on the other end made your mind relax… but something deep inside of you tense up.
“Hearing you say my name sounded so good…” he trailed off.
“Yeah?” You ask, beginning to play his game.
”Yeah,” he huffed another laugh. “But don’t feel pressured. We can hang up right now and pretend this never happened. I can connect you to someone else if you want.”
”I-“ you started and pressed your phone to your chest, gathering up the courage. This was his job, you can let him do his job. “I don’t want to hang up.”
You hear him curse under his breath. “That’s my girl. I need you to lie back for me, baby. When you do, just close your eyes and listen to my voice. Can you do that for me?”
You nod your head against your phone. “Y-yes.”
You head towards your bedroom and lay out on top of your comforter, closing your eyes.
”Good girl,” he purred. “Tell me what you’re wearing, so I can picture you.”
You look down at your outfit, conveniently wearing an old shirt of his he had left at your house. You giggle lightly as you begin to speak. “Your old shirt. The one you got when we went to the beach.”
”Fuck, sweetheart that’s perfect. You can smell me on it can’t you? Is it soft against your skin? I need you to lay your hand on your stomach, we’re going to warm up, okay?”
You reach your hand under the hem of the shirt and rest it gently against your stomach just like he had asked, heat pooling in your core.
”Now, tell me what you’re wearing underneath.”
”Just… just my underwear.”
”What color? Are you wearing something dirty just for me?”
As the conversation goes on, you can feel him settle more comfortably into his role by the tone in his voice. He was still him but with a professional mask layered over top.
”Lace. I’m wearing black lace panties.”
A sharp inhale rattles through the line and you can hear him shifting in his seat. You imagined him in his own apartment, probably sitting comfortably on his leather couch you had sat on plenty of times.
”Now, touch yourself through the fabric baby. Just a light press against your panties, enough to make you ache for me.”
You trailed your hand from your soft skin on your stomach, down your navel, and right where you wanted Sebastian to be. You could feel your wetness seeping through the fabric already and the conversation had barely even started. A breath hitched in your throat at the contact.
”That’s it, just like that. Let me hear you. Are you wet already for me? Just from my voice?”
”Mhm,” you agreed, too afraid to speak the words.
“I want you to reach your hand inside and circle your clit for me. Nice and slow. Tease yourself.”
When you reach for your clit, you can’t help but let a small whimper escape your lips. You were even wetter than you thought as you began to take the pad of your middle finger in painfully slow circles. You whimpered out before you could stop it.
”Does it feel good? Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want me to do.”
”Don’t stop talking,” you plea as you slightly pick up the pace and arch into his absent touch.
”I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you. Keep circling that sweet clit of yours for me. Keep your eyes closed and imagine it's my tongue, swirling around you slowly. I would take my time with you until you were begging. I would lick up every bit you gave to me. Fuck, I wish I could see you right now, dripping for me.”
The image he was painting vividly in your mind was almost too much to bear. It was almost like you could feel the way his tousled brown hair tickled the inside of your thigh as his warm tongue enveloped you whole while his chocolate eyes stared you down.
“Now, I want you to slip a finger inside of you. Just one for right now. I want to hear how wet you really are for me,” he softly demanded.
Your finger stretched out your walls, swollen with desire. Your walls pulsed around your skin once as you settled inside of yourself.
“Sebastian,” you breathed.
”That’s it baby. I can hear how soaked you are. All that just from my voice?”
”Y-yes.” Your finger continued to slowly ease inside of you, followed by more whimpers as you reached your knuckles.
”Now start pumping it in and out, take your time, don’t go too fast yet. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
Through your lowered inhibitions and sudden boldness, you said, “I’m thinking about you.”
”Oh yeah? Tell me what part of me you’re thinking about?” His voice was lower now, growling for an answer, but when you took too long to reply, he started back up again. “Are you thinking about my mouth on your tits? Sucking those perky nipples of yours until you’re writing beneath me? Or my hand between your legs?”
”I-I’m thinking about you… inside of me.”
”Fuck baby. You’re such a good girl. I want you to add another finger inside of you, can you do that for me?”
You add in your ring finger alongside your middle, stretching you out even more than before.
”I want you to imagine your fingers are my cock stretching out your tight little cunt, filling you up so deeply until your legs are shaking around me. I would start slowly with my tip, circling it around your hole until it ached so much it hurt. And then I would inch myself into you until you couldn’t take any more of me. You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”
”Mhm,” you replied, laced with a moan.
“You’re getting close aren’t you? I can hear it in your breaths. I know you’re getting so fucking tight around my cock. Don’t stop, I want you to come apart while you imagine it’s me stretching you out.”
You could feel the way your core began winding up, deep inside your belly. You were so close to coming you could almost taste the euphoria on your tongue.
”Please keep going,” you begged.
”Let go, baby. Come all over my cock. Imagine I’m there thrusting into you, so hard and deep as I drive you over the edge. Fuck, I can hear it now. You want to come don’t you?”
An orgasm was rapidly approaching for you, you were so close that your mind couldn’t come up with words, so you just whimpered into your phone.
”Come for me, baby, fall apart on me.”
The waves came crashing down, carrying you through a drift of stars behind your closed eyelids. A sharp cry caught in your throat as you rode out your high on your fingers, dripping your slickness down your palm. Your phone gently slipped out of your hand as you gripped tightly to your fluffy duvet.
Even without the phone pressed to your ear, you could hear Sebastian begin speaking again as you settled into your mattress. “Fuck, listen to you. So beautiful when you break apart for me.”
You picked your phone back up and listened as he continued.
”How do you feel, sweetheart? Talk to me.”
”I can’t believe we just did that…” you whispered.
He chuckled on the other end as he took in a deep breath. “I can. I’ve thought about it more times than I can count,” he admitted.
Part of you couldn’t tell if this was still a part of his act or not. But you bit the bullet and asked anyway. “Can you… can you come over?”
Immediately you’re met with the sound of rustling clothes like he’s standing up, and the jingling of keys. “I… are you sure? This… this changes everything.”
”Please hurry.”
”Shit, okay sweetheart. Stay in your bed, keep my shirt on, okay?”
The line goes dead.
You spend the next ten minutes lying in wait, letting the ache build back up in your core as you thought about what you just did with your best friend—the one who was on his way to you right now to make your fantasies about him come true.
What if it had all been a part of the character he plays? What if he shows up and is just Sebastian again—your best friend?
Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of him using his copy of your key to jiggle open the door, echoing off the silent walls as you feel the blush creep up your neck.
A few moments later, he’s standing with a heaving chest in your bedroom doorway.
You stare at each other a moment before he comes walking over to you, crawling onto your bed and over top of your body.
“Seb?” You ask as he hovers over top of you.
“Yeah, baby?”
That term again… it made your stomach flip in on itself.
“Was… was that all an act?”
He crashed his lips onto yours in a starving kiss as his answer, sucking in your bottom lip into his wet mouth and nibbling lightly.
He smelled of the wet pavement outside from the rain and his spiced cologne. His hoodie was still cold and damp from walking in from his car as you tugged at it, signaling you wanted him to take it off.
He slipped it over his head swiftly before finding your lips again with his. “I truly have thought about this too much, I swear it. It wasn’t an act with you.”
You brought your hands up to grasp onto his freckle-dusted cheeks and he groaned as he smelled your arousal on your fingers.
His lips gravitated towards your dominant hand and he licked from your palm to your fingertips. “Baby, you taste even better than I imagined.”
A whimper caught in your throat at the sight of him sucking delicately on your middle and ring fingers, lapping up every ounce of wetness you had left behind.
He got lost in the moment before he locked eyes with you and leaned back down. You could taste your sweetness on his lips combined with the mintiness of his breath. He was getting harder by the second as you could feel his growing erection through his sweatpants, pressed up against your thigh.
”Please Sebastian,” you whispered, unable to take a second longer without him inside of you.
“You look so sexy in my shirt,” he murmured against your skin as he trailed down your neck. “I’m going to take my time with you, just like I said I would.”
His warm hands eased under the hem of the shirt you were wearing until they were met with your breasts, perky under the cloth. He lifted it slowly to reveal them both to him and you could swear he gasped out loud.
He brought one of your nipples into his mouth and swirled his tongue around your bud. But he made sure to pay attention to your other side with his hand, pinching your peak in between his thumb and forefinger until it was hard against the pads of his fingers.
His teeth grazed over the nipple in his mouth as he continued sucking on you. He let go with a soft pop. He pressed gentle kisses down your belly until his lips were lingering over your black lace panties.
”These are devastating on you,” he cooed. He slid them down your thighs until they were a pooled mess at the edge of your bed. And then he spread your thighs apart and drank in the sight of you. “Such a pretty little pussy.”
He lowered his face between your legs and dragged a tongue up between your folds. This… this was the exact image you had in your mind earlier, it felt like a gust of deja vu though it hadn’t truly happened before.
You raked your fingers between his brunette strands as he made circles around your clit with his tongue, switching between points of pressure.
“Sebastian…” you cried.
”Say my name again, baby.”
You breathed out his name again like a plea, desperate for more.
He replaced his tongue with his thumb, rubbing against your nub as he started sucking your inner thigh. The skin was sensitive under his mouth as he began leaving behind love marks on your bare skin. It tickled as his faint stubble brushed against you and combined with the pressure in your core, it nearly tore you apart.
You arched your back up off your mattress as you raced closer to a second orgasm.
And then you hit a wall.
”Not yet, baby. I want you to come apart all over my cock. Can you do that for me?” He asked, flashing your mind back to his voice muffled by phone lines.
You nodded your head as he swung off your bed and pulled down his sweatpants. Underneath, he was wearing green flannel boxers and you could see the hard line of his erection pressed against the thin material.
In another swoop, he stepped out of them, springing his cock free.
He was bigger than you imagined—and you did imagine. His tip was flesh-toned and he was freckled slightly down his shaft, matching the ones adorning his face and chest. You had seen him shirtless, sure, but this was different.
He was mesmerizing to look at.
”Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at his shirt covering your body.
You nodded again. He helped you pull it over your head and now you were both left completely bare.
He was over top of you in an instant, never taking his eyes off of you.
”I’ll go slow, okay?”
He lined himself up with your entrance and eased himself in.
Your chest hollowed out with a deep breath as you felt him stretch you to the brim.
”Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned.
You felt every vein as he pressed further into you, pulsing around him as he buried himself to the hilt.
”You feel so good, Seb.”
”Yeah baby? You’re otherworldly," he replied as he moved a strand of hair from your face. He slowly pulled out of you until all that was left inside of you was his tip and then he eased himself back in. “Is this what you wanted? What you imagined on the phone?”
“Y-yes,” you whimpered.
He picked up his pace and began thrusting into you deeply, hitting your spot every time.
”Right there? You like that?”
You answered by pulling his face to yours and brushing your lips against his, nodding your head. “Please don’t stop.”
The rain hit the window harder now, in time with your beating heart. The sun had completely set by now, so the only light shining in the room was a warm streetlight casting lines from the blinds across your moving bodies.
His thrust started to become erratic, signaling he was headed straight towards his release.
The spring in your belly was winding up again too, tighter and tighter each time he hit your spot deep within you.
“I want you to come for me. Come all over my cock, baby, please.”
His words sent you overboard, electricity shot from your core to every tip of your body as you shook around him.
“That’s it baby, just like that,” he gushed.
”Sebastian,” you shuddered as you came around him.
You felt as he chased his own orgasm, painting your insides white with hot strings of his release. He continued driving into you until he was empty, collapsing on the pillow beside you.
Neither of you spoke for a few minutes. The only sounds filling the room were your heavy breaths and the raindrops hitting your window.
”Sebastian…” you started.
”Let me get you cleaned up.”
He stood up then and went to the bathroom he had been in hundreds of times and returned with a damp towel, insisting on wiping you up.
No more words were spoken even as he helped you redress into his worn shirt and he back into his sweats.
He laid beside you again, your breaths more calm now, and wrapped an arm around you.
”You know, I truly have thought about that for a long time,” he said against your hairline.
”You have?”
He nodded his head, you felt his stubble rub against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Millions of times. And none of them compare to the real thing.”
”I-I’m glad I called and you picked up.”
”Me too, sweetheart.”
You fell asleep in his arms, knowing you would wake up in the morning to your world completely changed.
summary: Sebastian Sallow loses the World Cup against England, and he can’t stand watching you be there for the rival team despite leaving you five years ago.
Empathetic, you go find him post-game.
warnings: literally a bit of plot with pure smut. possessive/stubborn seb. if ur a minor please don’t read this shit pls. lmao. idiots in love. i cant help it sorry. terriorial seb? sorry garreth.
a/n: in honor of the sexy ass players in the world cup lbvs. this one is for @amazonabxtch and @dianamagritte. that restricted section on discord crazy you freaky deekies damn. also thank u to my witness skye (@thesjway) for witnessing me write this shit in 10 hours RAW LOL.
ao3 link
The stadium had been super loud.
There was a thought that ran through you where you couldn’t understand what was louder. The entire crowd surrounding you in the stands or the pounding pulses inside your chest from the outcomes of the entire match.
Scotland was down by one.
They lost. Humiliatingly, Scotland lost.
“Yes—I won the fucking bet. Girl, we won!”
Your eyes flinched a little at the rush and adrenaline push Nellie motioned at you. Of course, she did. You were all from England.
“I knew Weasley wouldn’t let us down since grade seven! I bloody knew he would ace it til’ the end professionally and give us the cup!” Prewett jolted behind you.
Weasley. Garreth Weasley.
Right. The quick, temporary distraction you outdid yourself with a few years back. Right before he made it to professional football.
The cute little distraction from attempting to move on from your ex, Sebastian Sallow.
The opponent tonight.
A dry breath emitted out of you, your eyes darting to the red head from afar in the stadium, attempting to try to find a focus on his popularity.
Garreth flashed a smile, tilting his head, and jogged backward, almost nearing your specific group of the crowd wanting to greet his old school friends for support.
The crowd roared again as he neared.
Sweaty and all, the England jersey slid off him, but despite the privilege of being with him in the past — your attention was elsewhere.
You were studying the opposing team in the field.
A specific player you'd spotted since the beginning, but attempted to ignore.
The tinted blue and white fabric bled through the sweat across his chest and shoulders, molding every sharp line from him without trying as he breathed harder than usual from the yells of the loss.
The long sleeves of his shirt were pushed tight and muddy around the biceps — fuck, you couldn’t remember them being this toned during your time together. Were they always?
No, what the hell were you doing?
You two were over. Five years ago.
Sebastian Sallow could feel the mocking numbers of the final score watching him. He could hear the unnecessary commentary over the post-match results.
The fuck-ass crowd from afar cheering over his school rival.
He’d known that the entire game with Weasley was going to be another bit of arrogance between the two enemies, but now it was in the world’s biggest game.
And unfortunately, he lost this time.
He dragged his tongue along the inside of his cheek, trying to swallow the bitter annoyance he had over the cheering crowd from afar, but as he attempted to set his shoulders and shake the sweaty brown tousles from his forehead, he paused.
There you were.
At first, he thought his mind had made you up for comfort.
No. You were right there, surrounded by red and white, getting swallowed by the very same crowd cheering against him.
Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and he had to look away.
He had to seriously look away because you hadn’t changed. If anything, you had only gotten older and prettier.
Everyone knew that. He knew that.
But you were not his girlfriend anymore. He made sure of that five years ago, hadn’t he? He stood there with pride and cruelty to let you walk away like a coward he was because he was afraid of committing.
But seeing you stand amongst those god damn England supporters. Shit, it made something so possessive and wounded twist beneath his ribs.
The view on your end was tough.
Yet, despite the break-up — getting one unusual glare from him after so many years. Even within thousands in the crowd and him looking at the wrong one, from all directions, he had the power to find you.
You. As he always did. Just you.
With an attempt to snap out of the six-foot player from afar, you witnessed how minutes flew enough over that time slipped.
The famous Weasley player said goodbye to your friend group and jogged back to the field for a fair farewell to their rivals.
In an attempt to follow the rest of the other random players in the field while following the game commentary, you failed completely.
You followed the two main players you knew in the past.
You watched Garreth Weasley track easily back to the grass, breathless from the match as he walked with a victory confidence, clapping his teammates for a bit before turning to the Scotland team.
A few handshakes and what-so — then you felt the pit of your stomach create a void as you watched Garreth reach Sebastian.
Sebastian attempted to keep his facial expressions muted. He always had a hard time hiding his intentions, but despite a stupid, humiliating loss, he tried to be respectful to his rival.
“Tsk, Sallow surely took a damn loss!” Someone from behind you said. It must’ve been the men again.
“—course’ he did. Finally karma from jabbing all our fucking matches at Hogwarts. He finally needs to feel the loss!”
You bit the inside of your lip, also watching the players.
Weasley leaned into Sallow with a tighter handshake, just enough to throw Sebastian into him and spill some words that were specifically just for him.
Sebastian’s body went still, and a smugness seemed to appear on Garreth as he walked away.
Hell, you didn’t have time to form a proper thought at all.
One second, the Scotland player was standing there with a tense and exhausted look, and then the next, his jaw clenched toward Weasley. His shoulder had risen with a heavy breath as he ticked.
He mouthed something at Weasley.
You had known that look on him.
That enraged wrath on him, the tension on his large shoulders and the way he squinted those brown eyes you’d known him for.
Sebastian Sallow was pissed off.
Sebastian threw the first shoulder shove at Garreth immediately.
Oh no. You thought to yourself.
Oh no, because that’s what you knew about Sallow. He was impulsive and didn’t think twice about his actions before doing them.
A low gasp left your mouth as both players strut back on themselves. That smug Weasley held on himself vanished, and there was a sudden roar from news outlets, catching the fight-to-be.
“Holy—“
“Did Sallow just launch—“
Your hearing went hazy.
You watched as three players held back Sebastian from a swing while Garreth ran backward, almost a trace of fear in him before shaking his head.
Sebastian’s mouth moved quickly, angrily, and whatever he had told the other player was lost beneath your gap of listening, but you didn’t have to listen.
Your heart hammered as Sebastian’s gaze suddenly snapped upward, cutting through everyone’s dramatic yells, and looked at you for a second.
Just a second.
It’d been you. The reason had been you.
If you’d known Garreth enough from school and Sebastian from heart — it was something said about you.
As you correlated the thoughts, you saw how Sebastian shoved an arm at his teammate from his shoulder and left the football field in a rush, avoiding any more conflict and media attention. He was isolating.
Both crowds tried to swallow him in. The coach, attempting a pep-talk, denied. His team attempting a photo, denied. He just walked without looking at anyone, disappearing into the shadowed stage leading backstage.
You’d been frozen.
The freshly made manicure nearly chipped out of your nail beds from how bad you fidgeted over what had just happened.
Your friends and old classmates celebrated, already planning about the next bar stop after the game, but you were on a different path now.
The lanyard hanging around your neck began to tickle you.
No — no, don’t do it.
You looked down.
GUEST ACCESS.
It’d been from connections.
You should’ve stayed where you were.
It’d been five years.
You should’ve waited for the rest of the players to take photos and celebrate.
Five years.
Your breaths echoed over your ears as you found yourself in the deeper parts beneath the stadium. The tunnels leading to exclusive access were colder than you’d expect, making you shiver a little — but had it really been the cold or the nerves on the most likely mistake you were making?
Security stood there in the deeper backrooms with black earpieces and expressionless faces, but one glance at your pass and they ignored your intentions.
You walked through those private halls right before other players could crowd in, and all those privileged nepotism people could come backstage to meet the players.
Where are you?
You’d been sure you were on the opposite team’s side now because somewhere nearby, a Scottish player laughed too loudly at seeing your tight red and white shirt representing England.
“Fuckin’ hell, aye, what’s the competitor doing here? ,” He said. “Yer’ in the wrong area, darling.”
But you walked faster, your breath weighing harder as you walked the halls, ignoring the scent of sweat and polished floors.
At the same time, a roughed-up player had appeared right before you made a sharp, desperate turn in the corridor.
Sebastian Sallow was paced to lock himself in his stupid, claustrophobic dressing room until a cab took him back to his hotel — to destress and block out everything from the media and his pestering managers.
And surely, block you out of his damn mind.
The moment he heard his teammate chuckle out the comment, Sebastian took a brief pause and looked over his shoulder, seeing you right there below him.
This gave you the proper chance to take a good look at his face after so many years, up close and personal.
His face was flushed from the match. Those soft, dampened hairs were still stuck on his forehead, sweat still dripping from his freckles. And he was breathing extremely hard, so that you nearly felt it. It was obvious his breaths were from annoyance as the Scotland jersey on him moved with each take.
Sebastian Sallow was everything but calm right now.
For a moment, he only stared at you.
He debated whether to be shocked or annoyed, as if he had expected hundreds of people to follow him in the private halls — reporters, teammates. Soon they would.
He expected anyone, but you,
Holy shit, it was you.
He tried to take you in for a few seconds, attempting to remember and take you at the same time.
He looked at your hair, your face. He looked at the shape of your mouth. He noticed right away the nervous way your freshly made nails were chipping as you gripped your lanyard for some sort of fidgeted latch.
“What are you doing here?” He asked harshly.
You suddenly became too aware, because what were you doing there?
You’d flush enough now. You couldn’t even blame the match; you weren’t a player — you were just fucking lost. What were you thinking?
“I—“ You were lost. You couldn’t even look at him in the eyes. “I don’t know—maybe, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
A humorless laugh slipped from him, and he looked to the side.
Those sharpened freckles.
“Alright?”
Yeah, he wasn’t.
“I just lost the finals in the World Cup against England, nearly put my hands on a player, and walked away from every camera in sight like a coward.” Sebastian spat.
You blinked rapidly. “I—I know—“
His shoulders were tense. And big.
That football endurance surely did its job.
Beneath it all, though. Beneath this layer of popularity and strength he gained, he looked demolished. Failed.
You hated that you noticed it right away.
You both were still, in awe and confusion about what the fuck you were both doing. After years — this was your first meeting. Your first glance and confrontation.
The breakup was messy. No proper farewells.
In a short breath, he attempted to whisper your name, but it completely got towered over muffled chaos from afar.
From a distance, you and Sebastian began to hear voices between the halls. The corridors began to vibrate with loud screams and reporters.
Sebastian’s eyes flicked past your shoulder, noticing the chaos, and he whispered a quick ‘fuck’ to himself.
Before you could turn yourself to what he saw, you felt a hand close around your wrist, tight enough to steal the breath from your lungs as you were launched into the nearest unlocked door beside you guys.
“What—“
Pulling you inside with him, Sebastian closed the door, locking it and taking a deep breath as his eyes closed.
The room was open and slightly dimmed.
It’d been the players’ infirmary.
There was a clinical smell hitting you at once, right away. A few ice packs abandoned on the garbage can, bottles of healing solution, and a large bed where injured players lay.
You pressed your back against the counter behind you across the room, trying to put some sort of space between you and Sebastian at the door, but the room was small and chilly.
All you saw between your loud breaths of recovery was Sebastian’s broad back blocking most of the door, his body also rising in and out from the chaos.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Sebastian spoke without a glance.
Your throat clenched a little and your cheeks warmed. “I—“
“Isn’t there another team you should be pressing in at?” He now asked you sharply.
“What?” You were oblivious. Stupid.
Sebastian scoffed, finally looking over his shoulder. His large hands finally removed from the doorknob, and his body twisted around. The weight of his back leaned against the exit while he crossed his arms and looked down at you from afar.
His brown eyes weren’t directly at you, but at the tight shirt you wore: England’s.
You swallowed, not even feeding into it. It’d been your team. You were surely from—
“You were born in Scotland.”
Right, he knew everything about you.
“I lived in England most of my life—“
“Right.” He chuckled.
You frowned. “I’m allowed to rule for any team.”
“Yeah, from where I stood in that field, it looked like you knew exactly where you belonged.
Your eyes squinted a little as you stared at him in offense. A small reminder why the relationship before was a rollercoaster — his honesty.
Sebastian seems to realize it too, because his expression shone immediately and his jealousy turned to shame. “Nobody lets down their partner.”
Now your eyes widened more. “What?”
His gaze followed yours. “What? Again,” he paused and took a breath, almost like he knew he was going to regret asking this. “What are you doing here?”
A question you couldn’t answer yourself.
“You’re Weasley’s.”
“What? No. I wasn’t even cheering for him in that game!” You defended yourself. “I’m not with Weasley's.”
He snickered. “No?”
“No!”
There it was.
The uncontrolled power Sebastian Sallow held over you that nobody else had the strength to have: drive you nuts. Quickly.
Silence was kept between you two as the outside of the infirmary filled with voices here and there.
You swallowed, finally gathering why you were there in the first place. “What did he tell you?”
Sebastian’s eyes stared at you but didn’t raise his head. All you saw was a wolf-like stare as he tried to understand your intention.
Once he realized, he looked to the side with his arms still crossed. “Doesn’t matter.”
Your hands removed from the grid of the counter behind you, and your body straightened. “It does matter.”
“It doesn’t. Just drop it—“
“No.” You argued. “Sebastian, what did he say? You made an entire scene.”
He laughed under his breath, his annoyance crawling back to him as he shook his head as if the memory of it disgusted him. “He was just being Weasley. You already know that—“
“That’s not an answer.” You pushed. “What did he say?”
Sebastian’s nose flared as he finally uncrossed his arms and returned his frown. He stopped looking at you now.
“That he took the World Cup just like,” He didn’t even want to say it. It was stupid. “—just like he took a woman--you. From me.”
Your stomach twisted a little, but you attempted to stay calm.
Sebastian looked down at you, also trying to read your reaction through it as he looked down at your stupid shirt. Those England colors—fuck, he just wanted to rip it and—
“I’m not Weasley’s.” Your voice cracked from the nerves.
“You dated him.”
“Five years ago, after you and I broke up.”
His jaw flexed.
“Or, as when you left me,” You corrected.
That hit both of you.
Sebastian’s expression shifted, and he finally uncrossed his arms as he shifted a hand over his dampened hair in stress. “I didn’t just leave you—“
“You did.” You let out a bitter laugh. “Walking away and never talking to me again is leaving, Sallow.”
His eyes cut back. “It was a difficult time.”
“No. You just didn’t know how to balance football and a relationship at the same time, so you choose—“
“I had scarce time for you. We knew that at the end,” Sebastian defended. “You were getting mad all the fucking time, and it was only going to get worse once I signed contracts and left.”
“I would’ve left with you!” You raised your voice a little. “But you wanted this stupid egoistic football player life of traveling everywhere and fucking every woman that wanted you—“
“That’s not true.”
“Do you not read the media—?!”
“PR is a joke. Nothing you see in the media is real.” Sebastian shot back. “And you weren’t far behind either. The moment I left for Scotland’s training, I got word you were already with Weasley.”
You gasped in offense. “That’s not what happened!”
“It’s exactly what happened. You just moved on—“
“You stopped reaching out!”
“I was at camp!” Sebastian raised in frustration, letting out all the words he couldn’t say in the past.
“And I didn’t get with Garreth the moment you left.” You frowned. “He was just there.”
Sebastian’s freckles felt like they were flaring from his redness. “Is’dat suppose to make me feel better after this match?”
“No, it’s supposed to make you understand.” You fixed.
Still, outside the infirmary were voices, but they were non-existent between the two of you right now. That entire stadium felt distant compared to the weight you both held right now after five years of no contact.
“I reached out once after training in Scotland, and you never answered.” Sebastian admitted.
“Of course I didn’t. I had to switch phones to avoid looking at your contact for months—“
“And you sure did a good job a while after when that picture of you wearing his jacket came out—“
“What?” You scoffed. “I was eighteen, and it was raining that day!”
Sebastian now felt jealous.
All those feelings he had bottled up were now blooming in the worst way possible — especially now. Especially after he had lost.
His team had fucking lost thanks to him. His temper was off. Then Weasley standing on that field and smiling like everything Sebastian had loved could be won over — oh, he was tense.
“It’s fine.” He lied like a prick. Like something was rotting in his honesty. “I left, and he stayed for a bit longer. I’m sure he gave you the sex of your life just to use it against me—“
“What the hell?” You scoffed.
He laughed once under his breath, and that drove you insane. You were both bitter and petty — but the relationship was so good. And the sex was so fucking good with only him.
You glanced up at Sebastian Sallow again, between the anger and annoyance that you felt now. It’s like his feelings were projected onto you now.
You hated how much you noticed, too.
The way the sweat began to dry along his roughed skin. The bruise on his cheekbone reddened from the match. The unnecessary, stupid tight jersey that had clung to his body.
He was exhausted and angry, but still painfully beautiful as you last remembered him.
You stared at him a bit longer with your face hot and your throat tight.
Then, you moved before you could even stop yourself. You acted without thinking, just like him.
Your fist reached his chest because you couldn’t reach much more. He was too damn tall — and you pounded lightly to take his words back.
“Take it back,” You pushed.
Sebastian barely moved. At all.
His eyes stayed fixed on yours, dark and amused beneath the brown hairs poking him.
“Take. It. Back. Sebastian—!” You shouted in offense.
“No.” He clicked bluntly.
“No, because it’s the truth,” Sebastian said roughly, attempting to talk normally as you pushed.
“It’s not.”
“It’s the truth. It was enough for him to use it against me.” He said. “Because that was the entire plan since Hogwarts. To fucking bother me.”
You froze.
“And the most humiliating thing is that you knew.” He frowned at you.
“What?” You asked.
“You saw him tonight. You saw him lean in and tell me something, despite not hearing, and you immediately knew it was something about you.”
Your hands were still flat on his chest as you tried to argue back, but it was difficult.
Sebastian looked down at you for half a second before lifting his gaze again at the blank wall. “You’d always been self-aware enough to understand the power you held between me and any man who wanted you, so don’t act oblivious.” He said harshly.
Your hands dropped now, and you were muted for once, reflecting on his words.
“You’re upset.” You gathered. “You wouldn’t be so mean to me right now if—“
“Of course, I’m upset!” Sebastian now raised his voice. He now paced around the infirmary room, going around you on the opposite side. “Because I didn’t just fucking lose the World Cup tonight! It felt like I was losing my career and losing you all over again.”
Your breathing stopped for a moment.
One thing for sure, he was honest.
You turned again. His back was to you now again, his hands clenched over the counter you once clenched in too.
It’s like he was regretting what he said.
“Of course I feel like absolute shit right now.” He shouted again, but in frustration with himself.
Your eyes soften now. You felt the weight inside of you lift, and now, despite yourself and the entire night — you understood too.
“Sebastian…” You said softly.
“No.” He clicked his tongue. “Don’t soften your voice now. Don’t pity me.”
“I don’t pity you.” You lied. “Or feel sorry.”
Sebastian closed his eyes. You were playing rough, too. “Then what?”
“I just,” You blinked fast and thought. “I just know you.”
That soothed Sebastian just for a bit.
He finally turned around from fighting with the unnecessary counter edges and looked at you.
For the first time since this tragic anger consumed him, he looked like Sebastian — like the boy you met. Not the famous footballer who was so dull and cold.
There’d been a forced pull on you. No, he didn’t grab you or did anything on his part. It was you. You felt yourself walk forward to meet him in the middle of the room and just take him in for once.
He looked so tired and fucked from so much football and insults.
The man needed to de-stress. Immediately.
For years.
You let out a shaky breath, pretending like the fluorescent lights above him weren’t making the tint of honey breath in his eyes glow more than usual.
“Weasley never fucked me,” You whispered in honesty.
Sebastian looked at you with a small tilt.
You were ashamed for a bit, but you wanted to debunk his stupid assumptions. “I was too heartbroken to have sex with anyone. I only kissed him once, and I didn’t like it—“
There was a small breath from his nose that came out of him from the ‘kiss’ part, and you clicked your tongue.
“My gosh, Sallow! You are never freaking satisfied with anything—“
“You knew I didn’t like him, and he didn’t like me since we got together!” Sebastian reminded.
You sighed.
“And I know I left. I know I chose football and all of that.” He said bitterly. “But it doesn’t make it easier knowing how much control he has over it against me.”
“It was one kiss.” You confirmed.
“One of too fucking many.”
“Sebastian—“
“What?” He said, annoyed. “You want me to lie like him? You want me to stand here and tell you I’ve matured enough to hear that Weasley is still using my vulnerable sides to stab me in public?”
You stared at him a little longer.
He looked away, dragging his fingers over his mouth and chin, looking more frustrated with himself than with you. He had no reason to be mad at you, but he was.
“Then seeing you stand in those fucking crowds and going for the opposite team with that rubbish,” his fingers clenched as he pointed at your shirt again. “—shirt.” His teeth clenched.
You swallowed, seeing the closeness he was giving now — too much. Even the finger pointing was enough to make you take a heavier breath and rethink the actions on why you felt a fluttering sensation in his presence now.
No, not now. You’d felt it all game, but you were too much of a coward to admit it.
“Are you mad about that?” You asked.
Sebastian looked at you intensely. He was holding back too. A lot. “I’m mad at everything.”
You caught your breath as he stepped closer, but even that small movement had been a mistake.
It was almost stubborn for Sebastian Sallow to catch himself staring at not only the wrong shirt you wore, but also at the way that your breasts sat so tightly under that fabric. The thin fabric. He’d remember them. The shape of them. The perfect outline on his hands — and he sure damn well knew they were fighting for themselves to get out of that lame fabric.
He flexed without saying anything, but he scrunched his nose. “I’ve had it with tonight.”
You swallowed. “Sebastian—“
Violently, you felt fingers slip into the back of your hairs as your body was pulled forward to him and your lips were detained by the feel of someone else’s.
Sebastian kissed you, and not gently.
It was messy. Sloppy. You were able to feel the longing and collision you two had yearned for the last few years. The tension of stress one held more than the other.
And damn, how stressed he was.
His lips pressed to yours with roughness, enough to feel the tickles of his brown curls over your nose as both of your bodies neared back against the exit door again.
Your tongue tasted the bitter saltiness from the sweat and saliva that bled from him all day, but you never cared. All you really paid attention to was how fucking well he kissed you. Only he knew the spot and pace of the kisses and...
A loud thump echoed, and the kiss broke for a few seconds.
It gave you enough time to catch a breath and place one hand over his chest flatly again — his heartbeat was far beyond what you expected.
“You need to get out of here,” Sebastian whispered harshly. “Or I won’t be able to stop.”
“Then don’t.”
That was the fair light to give him. The consent to let him ruin you like in the past — all he needed was reassurance before demolishing you completely.
Sebastian didn’t hesitate twice before pressing his mouth against yours, but finding an opening with his tongue on yours. Both of your mouths syncing into one against that door.
Your fingers dug into his hair, finally getting the advantage of feeling the damp softness of it again. To tug it harshly as his large body pressed against you on that door as if you were a famous portrait.
A hand stood digging into your hair while the other crawled down your shoulders into your sides as a soft whimper escaped you from his tickling touch.
Without warning, you felt Sebastian’s fingers grip the team jersey you wore and tug it aggressively — pulling it so fucking hard to the point where it pinched your skin once before the fabric completely ripped off you like a line upward.
The kiss broke, and you gasped down, watching the team shirt rip apart away from the stomach lining up to your breasts, making them lash out inappropriately. “Sebastian—“
“Take—“ He kept opening it harshly until there was no fabric left on you. “—it,” he grunted between the kisses. "--off."
Your breaths lingered as you both looked down at your naked chest, your face in heat while taking in what you two were up to.
Nothing had changed.
Sebastian’s index fingers trailed from your open collarbones, tracing them down onto the middle of your chest where your heart was before using his large hand to cup one breast and giving out a short grunt from the touch.
“…Fuck,” he couldn’t even hold it in, admiring you once again.
Again, his lips went to kiss yours and then trailed down into your neck like a vampire, burying his sloppy bites into it while his hands massaged your breasts.
“I,” he breathed. “—missed this.”
Impulsively, your hand reached down between the neck kisses, training down over his jersey, and shoving your hand beneath it.
Your fingers could only take so much on tracing the sticky warmth of his toned body beneath the jersey before they charted down the tight sports pants; a finger pulling the strings of the Adidas pants and shoving into the V-line and feeling the flesh of his hardness for the first time again.
“Shiii—“ Sebastian could barely attempt to finish his sentence from feeling your hands touch the base of his cock.
You gasp, feeling how aroused he’d been and how much pre-cum had been ejected off him in a short time.
Your hands pumped up and down motions over the inches of himself while he attempted to keep you pinned against that door, but it became difficult.
He held in so much.
Your back suddenly lifted, and it was in seconds when you felt your body bump against the edge of the infirmary bed, making the bed make a loud noise from the throw.
Neither of you cared.
Without wasting any time, Sebastian’s hands came in contact with the skirt you wore for the day, cuffing another finger on the stretchy part of your underwear and sliding them off fleetly off your body at the same time.
“Sebastian-!” You attempted to warn his pace, but he was in no judgement.
He could devour you and destroy you with great pleasure.
Sebastian bent down over the small bed, his knees on the polished floor, not caring at all, and cuffed your legs like nothing.
“Sebastian.” You panicked. “Are you sure—oh, hell!”
Your head threw itself back when Sebastian’s tongue disastrously entered the entrance of your body without fair warning, making your lower hips bend in an arch to swallow in the extreme arousal you hadn’t felt in a while.
His tongue first devoured you like a tragic kiss, making out with the sensitive parts of your body like it was the last time — his mouth shifting from kisses on your inner thighs before shoving back into you with intent.
It’d been so messy that one of your hands had to grip the sheets of the bed while the other tangled into Sebastian’s hair for some sort of grip.
“Ugh—“ Your eyes were closed, barely getting a sighting of how his eyes had gone soft in certain intervals as you moaned out.
With a loud puckering noise, “Oh, the amount of nights--I ached for this, baby,” he huffed. “You’ve been so good,” he suddenly inserted one of his fingers inside of you slowly, making you close your thighs. “—open,”
Whimpers hid under you, not wanting to be loud.
There were possible crowds outside this stupid little room, yet Sebastian Sallow was doing his best to outdo both of you.
“Hmm! It’s so,” You tried to speak, but he inserted another finger while lifting himself over you, as he used his strong hand to open your thighs again. “Open.”
It was hard to maintain a peace when the tall, sweaty football player that you thought you’d lost forever was hovering over you and fucking you with his fingers, with eye contact now.
Again, he bent down once your legs were open and then while his fingers pumped inside of you, his mouth came back into a gentle contact above his fingers, kissing your entrance and hip bones.
“Oh, fuck,” You cried out.
“Good,” he went further in with a finger slip inside of you, and you bent your back. “—girl,” he praised.
It’d been too much for you.
He’d only gotten taller, and his voice had gotten rougher throughout the five-year gap. It was highly impossible not to let out a short orgasm over the stimulation and pretty face between your legs.
You became a maniac over him.
As you saw stars, Sebastian seemed a bit more resistant to himself, but still, there was a small tense unfinished stress inside of him he needed to let out.
You saw it in him.
Catching a breath, you attempted to balance yourself up with your elbows on the bed while looking at him.
He still stood over your open legs, but held back a little, discontinuing his oral sex. “You’re so damn pretty.”
You could barely see him from the sweat in your eyes, and you didn’t know whether to laugh as he scanned your naked body.
“What am I going to do with you?” He said in a pleading tone, not believing this was real.
“Whatever you want, Sallow,” You reminded him in breaths. “I’m yours. Just yours.”
“Fuck,” He huffed out.
The boner over his pants printed over you. You saw the struggle it was having inside there, and you took a breath, watching it so perfectly.
“What do you want, Sebastian?” You asked.
“I want to make you a mess,” He said without lies. “I want to devour the heck out of you right now. I want to—”
“Then what's stopping you?” You warned.
He chuckled. “Dangerous words to tell an exhausted football player, darling.”
You swallowed.
“I don’t have a condom.” He said in confusion.
“When has that ever stopped us in the past?” You asked.
Sebastian’s eyes nearly sparkled at the remembrance — you were reckless teenagers, but never failed a good pull-out. Ever.
“Never.” Sebastian whispered before he took it in at the confirmation and gripped one of your ankles heavily, using it as a lever to pull you back to the edge of the bed.
A squirm came out of your mouth when your body got twisted around, and now your back was facing Sebastian. You didn’t even have time to think before you felt his hand pushed flatly on your back and made you incline.
The motions had been loud enough that you didn’t even hear when his pants were off.
It was only within seconds that you heard him spit on his hand and then position himself behind you.
“Oh,”
Sebastian had barely inched in the base of himself on your entrance before closing his eyes and looking at the ceiling from the sensation until he stretched you out slowly.
“Oh. My,” Your fingers gripped the sheets as your cheek pressed on the bed from the entrance. “—Hm,”
Once every inch of Sebastian Sallow was inside of you - once that man made sure every single part of him was in you and that you could take it, he didn’t hold back.
He slid out of you once slowly and then, it was never slow again after — he rammed into you like no tomorrow and never stopped.
“Sebastian,” You gasped from the roughness behind you.
Sebastian plunged inside of you with a pounding sensation, his fingers gripping the sides of your love handles perfectly as a lever to destroy you fully.
The room echoed with sex and moans as Sebastian made sure you felt every single year you’d miss from this — to feel all that jealousy and stress that’d been bothering him tonight. To feel that love.
And it felt so good.
A handle removed from your hips and clamped under your chin. His fingers hooked around your entire neck and pulling you upward in the air to feel the back of your head rest on his shoulders.
A moan escaped you as this view made you look at Sebastian better. Him fucking you from the back while your head stayed on his shoulder to view his side.
One of your hands raised, caging on the back of his head again and using it as a balance so you won’t fall forward as he kept pushing it so hard.
“Oh,” Sebastian’s breaths lingered on yours from how close you were again. “You’re so wet.”
You clenched on him from the opening. “Yes—yes, I am—for you—“
His finger reached down your belly button and down in between your legs, creating circular motions to stimulate you again. “Fuck, baby,”
You moaned at the name call. “Seb—“
Your words weren’t finished.
Sebastian suddenly threw your body down, and before you could turn fully, you felt his fingers twisted around your hair. He kept the twirling motions until all of your hair was gathered on his hand before pulling it back and fucking you hard.
From this angle and force, you felt the base of him nearly at your cervix, enough to make you whimper a little from the pleasurable pain.
“Oh, yes,”
Sebastian had reached a state of being out of control. He was letting it all out without measuring his pace or angles — he did what he had to do to enjoy it.
“That’s it, baby—“
There was a sudden knock on the door, making you gasp out loud from the noise, but Sebastian didn’t stop, making you freak out.
“Hey—“
“They can’t really hear us in these rooms,” He paced, “Unless you scream loudly.” He whispered.
You breathed.
“So,” He leaned down a little to speak to you from behind. “Tell them,” he shoved back into you. “It’s occupied.”
You were flushed. “B-But you’re—inside me—“
“Tell them." He slammed. "It’s occupied.” He shoved deeper. “This player,” he groaned. “—is in recovery.”
“Hmm!” You whimpered.
Again, there was a knock.
“It’s,” You tried to yell, but Sebastian was being diabolical.
“Louder.”
“IT’S OCCUPIED!” You called out loudly before falling back into the bed with a stinging cock inside of you.
“Oh, okay! Apologies.” You heard from outside. “Let’s use the other infirmary then!”
You took a breath as people left.
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” Sebastian praised.
Your eyes closed from the pleasurable compliment, and your ass perked up more on him as he said that.
But Sebastian’s didn’t accept it just yet.
As much as he wanted to spill inside of you even though he shouldn’t — he couldn’t do it like this. Not in this position.
Again, you felt his strong hands turn you around aggressively, using the pillow behind you to adjust it and then lay your head on it.
He then finally slid the Scotland jersey off himself — getting the opportunity to finally take a clear view of his adulting body.
The small toned shadows, the scars left behind from old matches, and the little chest hairs that barely peeked.
It was a perfect view of each other now.
Sebastian looked down at you before taking you in and kissing you passionately now — just for a minute.
He grabbed both of your legs, placing them alongside his shoulders before looking down and using himself to slip inside of you one last time easily.
Your eyes closed from this angle, feeling your toes curl around the back of his neck just a little as he went in slow and hard. Slow and hard. Slow and so fucking hard.
“Oh,” He whispered between the messy saliva. “I—missed this—“ he pounded inside of you. “I miss—you.” He clenched.
Your fingers grasped his hairs, and the other caressed the bruise on his cheekbone as you admired and were also aroused at the same time. “I missed you—too.”
With every stroke, Sebastian’s strength on you became harder and heavier. With every thrust, you felt a pulsing sensation in your guts, ready for them to be spilled from how perfectly angled he hugged into you.
“You’re, so, so deep.” You breathed.
His strokes were sloppy.
It was insane to think how soundproof the infirmaries really were.
“And I wanna be deeper.” He groaned.
“Do—do it,” You begged.
Sebastian whimpered at your go, his hands grabbing the handles of the low-budget medical bed and twisting his fingers around the poles to pound the fuck out of you.
It was so warm and wet.
How could it have been highly impossible for this sensation to go away so soon if he had to pull out —
“I’m going to cum—“
“No, I’m going to cum too,” You pleaded from the stimulation.
You felt his entire cock start to harden inside of you, making the sex start to intensify to the climax.
His brown eyes finally found yours, and you could see the softness of them. That, despite how stupidly aggressive he’d been — there was devotion in them.
“Let it go,” You whispered softly at him.
Sebastian’s eyes looked at you, feeling territorial as ever. “Let me cum inside of you.”
Your brows furrowed. “I’m not on birth control—“
“Let’s get the--morning pill,” He pleaded with soft whispers. “Or not, I know you hate them—“
“No, I—“
“Let me take care of you,” Sebastian said aggressively. “You're the only woman I'll ever want to bear my children." He spoke so sweetly in such a deep sex. "I’ll take care of both of you—“
“Sebastian,” You sweated at his motions.
But it was something to discuss after.
Right now, you both need to be done.
You nodded. It just felt too good to release anywhere else right now. The angle, the breaths, the orgasms — the consequences could be dealt with later.
Now, you wanted it as much as him.
Sebastian took in one last curve while you felt yourself twist at the same time, arching your entire body and letting out another loud moan for the night.
“Fuckkkk,” Sebastian moaned out loudly, a few grunts and whimpers dimming out of him as he spilled himself deeply into you. “You’re — mine.”
You nodded within moans. “I am.”
The medical room was echoed with heavy post-sex breaths and bodies.
It all suddenly felt too hot.
You could smell the natural scent of sweat and faded cologne off Sebastian Sallow. Something that you’d oddly missed losing yourself to.
An embarrassing pop sounded once Sebastian slid out of your body, and instead of standing up, you watched him between the blurs of your sweaty vision.
His biceps twisted perfectly as he bent to the floor and took a catch for his famously known jersey.
“Arms up,” He ordered you.
You furrowed. “What—“
“You were shivering out there.” He pointed out. “Arms. Up.”
You obeyed, letting the oversized long-sleeve jersey slide on your naked body. “Sebastian, I can’t go out like this.” You looked down at yourself.
A chuckle escaped the exhausted man. “Who said anything about getting out of here?”
This brought you back to your senses.
Sebastian stood up, all naked. You could see his cock jump a little, and God, you had to look away to not want more again.
“There’s an endless crowd outside this room,” Sebastian informed. “And you’re not leaving anywhere anymore, sweetheart.”
This made you stare up, your fingers clinging into his jersey while pretending like his spill wasn’t sliding between your legs.
“We’d have to wait until everyone is gone.” He reached down to the bed toward you, placing a hand on each of your sides and caging you as his eyes prayed into yours. “Which means we’re not finished yet.”
You blinked.
“My stamina is high after this loss.” He frowned. “And we have rounds to own up to while we wait here, darling—so, sit tight. It’s only our first round.”
And you knew he was being serious.
“Because I lost the World Cup, but I sure won,” He kissed your forehead. “—the woman. Which is way fucking better.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
please note that when i say 'i wrote this in a week' it actually means it completely vacated my mind for 6 days and then on the 7th day i was possessed by a bolt of maniac intensity and wrote the entire thing in a day
At risk of sounding like a hater and an asshole this looks like AI and if its somehow not, the editor who reworked images and sharpened them up made it look like AI
This is the actual image (from a 6 year old reddit post so def not AI). Either someone asked AI to recreate it or AI, being the plagiarism machine it is, was asked for a pic of dogs finding humans in the snow and just ripped off the first image it could find. Another reminder that AI doesn't actually create anything. Also real cute dogs.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Trying to write sex scenes is so aggravating because honestly describing sex is pretty boring. It's mostly just people putting bits of themselves on or inside other people's bits so you run into a lot of "they walked to another room" type problems where you can get caught up in just describing where everyone's limbs and shit are. What really makes smut interesting and hot, in my opinion at least, is sensory description but that's also hard because you'll be sitting there trying to find a new way to say "they were feeling sexual pleasure and it felt pretty good". Then you also have to figure out how to write dialogue that doesn't sound completely ridiculous and hackneyed. Really makes you want to just write "they boned down real good and it was totally hot trust me, it was definitely the kind of thing you'd want to jerk your shit to," and have done with it.
don't like what you're seeing when you open this app?
tag you hate seeing posts with? go to your profile -> settings -> general settings -> filtering
post you do not like for whatever your own reasons? -> three dots on the post -> uninterested in post/blog
someone you follow posts something you don't like seeing? -> three dots -> unfollow blog
everything you see frustrates you no matter who posts it or what they post? -> log tf out and reflect on what's exactly bothering you irl so much and put some actual effort into fixing it
this is internet, there are billions of people here, it will always have something you don't like seeing
you have all the possible tools to avoid it!
harassing people over content that's perfectly within the guidelines only because of your subjective perception is not a tool and it will never make anything better in your life
also karma is a bitch and treating good people badly will bite you in the ass ✌🏻
i think because of the whole "writers write for themselves" notion that's becoming increasingly popularized, people forget that we still thrive off interaction and kindness. i write for myself but kudos and comments and bookmarks and really any sort of interaction with my fics genuinely motivates me to keep writing and keep sharing my works.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
