a/n; oh to have all my plans ruined by needy anton..💔
cw: fwb situation, cursing, he’s horny as hell, baby what plot.., smut — dry humping, eating puh, p in v, no condom ( be smart ), male moaning !!!, talking a luh nasty👀
summary: leaving anton’s apartment after everything blew over with your roommate wasn’t as easy as you thought it was gonna be. the apartment was just so nice and.. has so many usable surfaces and like. yeah.
<- previous
this is how it usually started. you were hanging out in anton’s room, both of you laid in his bed and being super social by sending each other tiktoks depspite being right in front of each other. it was the perfect, most innocent, friend activity. until it wasn’t. anton’s head landed heavily on your flat shoulder,
“i wanna fuck you so badly…”
“yo, chill.”
after the incident about a week ago; after letting yourself freak out about it first, you became pretty content with the fact that you smashed your best friend. despite your perfectly rational fear that things would become awkward after, your friendship remained relatively normal. emphasis on relatively. however, the fact that things didn’t become awkward between you two meant there was absolutely no deterrent against doing it again…. and again, and again.
your roommate wondered why the hell you had overstayed at anton’s by like a lot of days... your friends wondered why you were either late or absent to all the recent gatherings. it was because anton was insatiable. like he couldn’t get up off you.
nestled between your open legs in his bed, anton moved his hips over yours, “i can’t help it. when you touch me, i’m instantly hard. it’s like muscle memory.”
“ou, don’t do that.” you sighed out, trying to ignore the heat pooling between your thighs, “i-i need to get— i have to meet my friends.”
he whined in response grinding down into you, “i know, i know. i won’t keep you long…”
“toni…” you knew and he that he was full of shit. but the featherlight feel of his lips brushing your neck pushed all the rational thoughts out of your head. “okay, okay, fine.”
with your permission, anton’s mouth was immediately on yours, kissing you all sloppy and holding your neck to keep you in place. slowly, he continued humping into you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing them at the ankles.
“fuck, you’re so— you feel warm. i could cum like this.” anton whimpered.
you held onto his shoulder, “wait, i want you inside me…”
didn’t you have somewhere to be..?
already sitting up to strip his clothes, anton laughed, “don’t you have somewhere to be, though?”
you rolled your eyes as you started pulling down your leggings. “just— let’s just not ask questions right now.”
through hooded eyes, you watched as anton pushed his boxer briefs down, letting his dick spring up against his lower ab. you were expecting him to start teasing you. anything but the way he immediately leant down to press an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy.
“i could never get tired of doing this…”
you slid your fingers into his soft hair, tugging gently and sighing heavily. “anton, please.”
“hm? give me a second.” the sound of anton humming vibrated through his lips around your clit, making your eyes roll back. “i’m tryna get you wet for me.”
“i already am—” you whined desperately but anton continued with no remorse.
he flattened his tongue against your pussy, licking a long stripe upwards and your hips bucked into his mouth. “this pretty pussy tastes so good…” moaning against you, he pushed his tongue inside of you and with each twitch of your hips, your clit bumped against his nose. you were so overwhelmed with pleasure that you felt tears start to well up in your eyes. it took everything in him to pull away, but he was feeling like if he didn’t fuck you soon? he could die.
anton tapped his dick against your now puffy pussy lips a couple times before sliding in with comfortable ease. you immediately had to dig your nails into him. he should not have gotten you that close.
anton pressed a kiss just below your earlobe, “i’m gonna put it in, okay, baby?”
you nodded at him and he rubbed his tip against your sensitive clit before finally bottoming out inside of you with a quiet moan, immediately starting to roll his hips into yours with rhythmic ease.
“fuck, you’re wet… does it feel good?”
wrapping your legs around his waist, you nodded.
“yeah? it feels good? let me rub that clit, baby.” he sat upright on his knees, still fucking into you and started rubbing small circles on your bundle of nerves, making you cry out.
“anton—” you cut yourself off with a low moan.
“you feel so fucking good around me.” anton whined above you, “s-so good to me… hah.”
the sound of his hips smacking into the backs of your thighs grew louder as his thrusts be came more shallow and irregular. he was making it very clear that he was getting close.
“are you gonna cum for me, toni?” you stroked his hair and his face contorted in pure pleasure. he couldn’t answer you.
“please?” you pecked his lips and he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling back. the tip of his dick pushing against that spongy spot inside you with each thrust had him weak. you wanted nothing more in this moment than for him to cum inside you, because you knew the noises he would make could finish you off.
anton was resilient; determined to keep going for you. he leant forwards again, shifting his weight onto his hands and expertly grinding his hips into yours. this however gave you the perfect angle to start kissing at his shoulders, the crook of his neck, his jaw, his face. he knew it was coming. or was hoping at least. anton opened his mouth slightly and again, your lips met his in a fervent kiss.
he attempted to muffle his moans against your lips but it was no use for him. he was already there. anton pulled his lips away from yours to release a string of high pitched moans and curses as his hips stuttered against you. the friction of his pelvis against your clit triggering your own orgasm.
“anton—”
“mmph.. f-fuck, i’m cumming. i’m cumming for you.” anton’s brows were furrowed in pure pleasure as he fucked his warm load into you. “fuck, baby, take my cum… just like that.”
anton’s body fell limp on top of yours. you gently dragged your nails up and down his back, laughing at the way he twitched as a result.
“toni… you sound so pretty.”
anton breathed out a shy laugh. “stop. i’m embarrassed.” he was breathless.
you let out a content sigh, allowing your eyes to dart around to the clock on your wall. yeah, no way you were making it to whatever plans you had. you were gonna have to start making up some excuse real fast because you knew this wasn’t going to be the last time this happened. nor did you want it to be.
precis & wc. the well-renowned campus crush, anton, asks his studious roommate for help with calculus. you both discover that your tutoring sessions end with something better than knowledge—2,006𝓃 𓈒
genre. smut, anton is horny asf, reader is implied to be inexperienced, spanking, brief neck biting, cussing, pet names, unprotected sex, making out, straddling, cum play, brief description of anton's dick, reader and anton are implied to date in the end!
a/n ^_— requested! made this a lot longer than i anticipated LMAO
the atmosphere of your dorm had drastically changed ever since anton moved in.
anton lee, the infamous campus crush and econ major who spent money like it was nothing, constantly had people trailing behind him. you never understood the appeal. sure, he was relatively attractive—hell, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. he had a gorgeous face.
but you didn’t think it warranted him coming back to your dorm tipsy on some nights from parties, hearing the loud buzz of people he’d invited over through your thin walls while you tried to study.
you didn’t talk much either. the most conversation you’d had together was some small talk when he first moved in, but that was about it. a few greetings here and there, but most of the time, your head was buried in your textbooks.
he never understood why you did this to yourself. you were a complete homebody, the only time you left being to go to your classes or occasionally hang out with acquaintances. but typically, you were in your room, sitting at a table that was constantly piled with textbooks and papers filled with scrambled writing.
he’d specifically notice it when he passed by your room—your hair falling over your shoulders, scribbling a bunch of notes and biting your lip whenever you thought for too long. gosh, he thought it was hot. but he found himself pondering if your studying had actually paid off.
his thoughts had shifted once he saw your student portal screen loaded on your laptop. straight 90s across the board. touché, but hey, he could really use it as an opportunity to get some extra academic guidance... or to get closer with you.
he leaned against your doorframe one evening while you were, again, at your desk—typical. he wore a black, fitted tank top that exposed every curve of his biceps and grey sweatpants. he prayed he wouldn’t get a hard-on in front of you.
“hey,” he spoke with his arms crossed, hair slightly damp from a fresh shower. your head darted towards where his voice was coming from, setting your pen down. “hm?”
it’s as if he jinxed himself. his shaft pulsed at the sound of your voice, dazed and gentle, slightly straining against his sweatpants. he slowly walked over to your desk, hand barely hovering over the print of his cock as he pretends to clear his throat.
“do you mind tutoring me sometime tomorrow? i could use some help in calculus,” he muttered, chewing on his bottom lip as he looked down at you—sitting in a pair of loose shorts and a long sleeve, blinking up at him through your lenses.
you were surprised that someone as unbothered and status-conscious as anton had asked you for help. though, you figured he probably took the opportunity since you’re his roommate and takes pride in your studies. anyway, you weren’t opposed to it.
“s-sure, i can help” you stammered out of pure intimidation, shooting him a small smile before he smirked and walked out of your space.
your first tutoring session the next day went up to par. thanks to you, he understood the content, but it didn’t help that he kept “accidentally” touching you. he’d mutter a small sorry while you were mid-lesson, his cold, slim fingers grazing your bare thigh.
that, along with the way his eyes would mindlessly land on your lips, had you wondering just how many more sessions you’d have left. “anton? are you even paying attention?” you raised your glasses up so they rested on the top of your head, annoyance tied in your tone. “yeah... sorry.” he’d whisper, but he could already feel the head of his cock leaking, sticking to the fabric of his boxers.
he obviously wasn’t paying any mind, and it persisted as your sessions piled up over weeks.
“how many more of these do you think we need to do?” you muttered, throwing the textbooks onto his bed before plopping yourself on it. what was this—the 11th session already?
“why? you don’t like teaching me?” he fake whined with a cocky grin, back pressed against the headboard, palms resting behind his head. you roll your eyes and prepared the content for this specific lesson. he brought out the attitude you never thought you had in you.
minutes after minutes went by. you took a small break before offering to jump back in, to which anton sat up straight and protested. “no... we don’t have to continue.”
“christ, anton—do you want to pass or not?” you scold, flipping through papers, and you suddenly feel his fingers wrap around your wrist. your head slowly turns to face him, and you already notice something different about him. something you couldn’t put your finger on.
your mouth parts, unsure of what to say or do, before he tugs on your wrist, signaling for you to come closer to him.
he’s still laying against the headboard, legs barely spread before flicking his eyes from you to his lap. “come,” he murmurs, as if asking your roommate to straddle your lap is the most natural thing ever.
you hesitate. this feels so unlike you. but with a pretty face like anton’s—his hair tousled, sweatpants riding down a little, you can’t turn down such an invitation. you slowly crawl over to him, his hand already reaching to your thigh to guide it over his hip.
by this point, your legs are on either side of his hips, your heat resting just above his bulge. your hands stalled, unsure of where to place them. on the bed? on his chest? on his shoulders?
of course, he notices the reluctance in your expression. “put them wherever you want,” he whispers, gazing up at you through oh-so-fuckable eyes. your hands shakily rest on his broad shoulders, your back slightly arching as his palms found their place on your hips.
you gulped—you were in such a vulnerable position. this felt so foreign to you. you barely saw his hand loop around your head to gently bring it down before his lips pressed against yours.
you pull away with a short gasp, not even comprehending what just happened before licking your lips and slowly lowering yourself to kiss him again. you melted into it this time, his plump lips sandwiching between yours, moving and sucking in a rhythm that had your hips gently grinding over his bulge.
he groans into the kiss, fingers pressing into your skin. you pull away for a breather, and his hands firmly grip the fabric of your shorts from behind. “can i take these off, pretty?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning against your already-swollen lips.
you tremblingly nod, allowing him to tug your loose shorts to the side so they pooled at the side of your ass cheek. your breath hitched at the feeling of the cool air hitting your once-warm skin, but nonetheless, your nails graze over his straining cock. it could practically rip through his sweatpants.
“you wanna help me?” his eyes flick between you and his obvious hard-on. you nod again, pulling his sweatpants down just above his knees. by the time your fingers reached the waistband of his boxers, you could already feel your pussy twitching with need. if you ran your fingers through your folds right now, they’d come back up drenched.
you dragged them down slowly until his entire cock was revealed—his tip a deep pink and moist with precum, a small vein peaking through as his shaft curved a bit, balls resting underneath. you swallowed a huge lump of spit at the sight, not even grasping that it’s about to be inside you in just a moment.
your breath becomes shaky as your hand wrapped around his base, and he notices. “shh, easy. it’s okay, i got you.” one hand slides up to your waist, the other reaching down to grip his own shaft as he barely presses the mushroom head up to your soaked entrance. he rubbed it up and down through your folds, stretching the time in hopes of alleviating your unease.
“anton.. p-please.” your fingers tug on his shirt, whispering against his chest as your legs begin to quiver. “you want it, baby? yeah?” he mumbles, pushing a little more of his head inside. your silken walls immediately greeted him with a snug welcome, aching for something fuller.
you nod into his chest, whimpering as his hand gently guides you until you fully lower yourself on his cock. “a-ahh—fuck..” you feel a slight discomfort at the sudden and unfamiliar feeling, his tip resting just under your cervix. his fingers tangle in your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he slowly begins to move into you.
his hips jerk up with easy, calculated thrusts that turn your discomfort into pleasure. each one stretches you wider, walls fluttering around his thick length as your warm arousal coats him. anton’s breath hitched against the shell of your ear, tightening his grip on your hair just enough to tilt your head to the side.
there your neck was exposed, allowing him to lean in and gently nip at the sensitive skin, causing another moan to tumble out. his hand slides down the small of your back, the other letting go of your hair to grip the flesh of your ass.
“mm—fuck. so tight.. just for me,” he murmurs, voice low as his hips continue fucking into you. the head of his cock drags along your g-spot with every stroke, your heat squeezing him tight. “o-oh my gosh, toni! that feels so fuckin’ good!” you sob, your tears staining the fabric of his cotton shirt.
“i know, baby. i know it’s good,” his grip on your ass lets loose, just so his palm can spank it. you shiver at the sting, body becoming limp as you felt yourself getting closer. his hips continue snapping up, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin slapping.
and if you weren’t already at the edge, you sure as hell were now. anton’s hand that once settled on your waist had trailed down below to rub quick circles on your sensitive nub with his thumb. “you feel that? gonna cum?”
you swore you could see stars. your eyes rolled back, the feeling of his finger toying with your clit sending a wave of ecstasy to wash over you. you couldn’t even reply.
your body shudders, a whine escaping your mouth when you feel his palm smack against your ass cheek, more force than his last spank. it left a faint, pink print on your skin before he spoke again. “c’mon, answer. you gonna cum, doll?”
“yesyes!” you sob, your wet lashes fluttering shut as you came. the tight coil in your stomach snaps, your pussy fluttering around his cock, clenching as the final stroke caused your release to spill all over his lap.
it seeped onto the sheets, dampening the mattress beneath you and his sweatpants. he gently lifts your hips, his cock slipping out before giving it quick strokes with his hand, pressing his swollen tip against your ass.
his hot ropes leak onto your cheek, dripping down your skin as he catches his breath. his chest rose and fell with every unwinding breath, the adam’s apple in his throat visibly bobbing as he swallowed. you’re just as spent as he is—face pressed into his firm chest, the throbbing in your heat slowly fading.
“anton?” you whisper, head rising from his chest as you look down at him through half-lidded, glazed eyes. he hums in response, lashes fluttering as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “i wouldn’t mind doing this after every session.”
he chuckles at your proposition. no chance you would’ve offered to have sex with him earlier. “only if you take me out,” you added.
“wherever you want, gorgeous,” he grinned, splaying his palm on your lower back, dragging it up and down your skin before planting a kiss to your temple.
you’re thrilled to see how many more “lessons” this dorm will hold.
Synopsis: You and Anton are enemies; the tension between you is constantly charged while competing, but when you're put in the same hotel for a competition, there's not much holding either of you back from breaking that tension.
WC: 5.8k
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don't do that), trash talk, dirty talk, competitive tension, sexual tension, swimmer anton, condescending Anton, kissing, bruising, fingering, anton is very well endowed, praise, slight degradation, profanity, begging, pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart, angel, etc.), breeding, creampie, overstimulation, forced orgasm, hinted somnophilia, lmk if i missed anything
A/N: First fic of the RIIZE masterlist, I wrote this a while ago, but I've been itching to share it. I'm very behind on my series, so I'm currently working on it...that being said...Idk when I'm gonna write my next RIIZE fic. Thank you, @midnighthazee, for beta reading.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅-`✮´-⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
There were too many noises, the sounds of the whistle blowing through the air and the swimmers taking off into the water. There was chatter from each of the teams, making the environment seem louder.
Your coach turns to you to speak, getting his familiar pep-talk ready. “You’ve done this a hundred times. This isn’t anything new. Trust your start, keep your rhythm, and finish strong. You know you’re good — now just go out there and show it.”
You nodded curtly and walked over to your position, the tile beneath your feet is cold and slick with water, but you barely feel it. Your heartbeat is louder than the crowd now, thudding steadily in your ears as you step toward the block.
You exhale once, sharp and steady, then lift your gaze.
And there he is.
Anton is already at his block, rolling out his shoulders and infuriatingly calm – as he usually is before a race. His body is all lean lines and strong muscles, but tense. His teammates watch from behind him, trading jokes and last-minute advice, but Anton isn’t really paying attention to any of it.
He’s too busy looking at you.
It’s quick, a flicker of his attention locking onto yours almost like it's purely instinctual. His gaze makes a nauseous twist sit in your stomach. His lips lift just barely, an infuriating smirk on his face. Provoking you.
Maybe it was a challenge, maybe an invitation for something else. You couldn’t tell. You never could with him.
You force your chin up, refusing to be the one who looks away first. Not today. You held his gaze, refusing to let the flicker of smugness in his eyes burrow further beneath your skin. Anton didn’t blink, didn’t look away, not even when the starter's voice rang out in the humid air calling your attention.
His eyes narrowed slightly, sizing you up – likely to see if you were the same girl he had beaten last month. He seemed to think he had you all figured out when he broke his gaze and let out a little chuckle to himself.
The air was thick with the smell of chlorine and the adrenaline coursing through you.
The whistle blew, the shrill sound cutting through the strong tension between the two of you. You got into position, your muscles coiled tight and ready. For a half-second, your focus drifted back to Anton, the cocky little tilt of his head and the flex in his own muscles as he took position.
The buzzer sounded.
You launched yourself, the world narrowing down to the rush of air and the cold feeling of the water on your skin.
______
You barely had time to breathe and relish in your victory before Anton found you by the bleachers with your team. He started making his way over with the same infuriating smirk that was always on his face. Your skin was still wet as you met him halfway, not wanting your teammates to hear the bullshit he was most likely about to say.
“Congrats,” he drawled, voice low. “Didn’t think you had it in you. Must’ve been luck, hm?”
Gosh, he was insufferable. Your cheeks felt hot.
You glared, pretending you didn’t notice the way his gaze slid over you. You also pretended you didn’t notice the way your skin prickled, blaming it mostly on the water giving you temporary hypothermia.
“Luck?” you scoffed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “You can call it whatever you want.” Your voice surprised you – a little more breathless than you intended, but solid.
Anton stepped closer, his presence cutting off the noise of the pool and the shouts of your teammates. You could smell the hint of chlorine and his body wash still clinging to him. For a second, you wondered if anyone was watching from the bleachers. If they could see your tense body language. It would be just your luck to have someone catch you even slightly flustered.
“Or maybe you’ve just been watching me too much,” you added when he didn’t respond, your chin lifted.
His mouth curved. It was most definitely a challenge. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said softly, but his gaze lingered on your lips. “I just like knowing you’re not as good as me. Makes it easier to win.”
He was so close now, the heat of his body radiant against your skin. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you could feel it in your throat.
You knew the smart thing to do would be to brush him off and walk away, remind him that he’s just a smug asshole who has nothing better to do than annoy you. But you didn’t. You stood your ground, matched him glare for glare, your lips tingling from the way his eyes kept sweeping over them.
“Oh is that what happened today?” you sneered, the words coming out lower than you intended. “Becuase it looked like you were chasing me for a while there. Couldn’t catch up?”
He laughed, but the sound was softer than you’d expected. You saw his jaw flex, and for a moment the competitive edge in his eyes shifted to something else. Something heavier, darker, and more personal.
Before you could analyze the look in his eyes, your coach’s voice sounded in your ears, telling your team to pack it up so that you could head out.
Anton blinked slowly, a lazy grin curling at his lips before he stepped back, leaving you with your pulse jumping and a flush high on your cheeks. You turned and walked away, not daring to look over your shoulder even though you could feel his eyes burning between your shoulder blades.
Your team packed up, voices buzzing with post-race adrenaline and stupid gossip. The van ride back to the hotel was a blur of tired limbs and damp towels. Only when you stepped into the lobby did you realize Anton and his teammates were sprawled across the armchairs in the lobby, looking perfectly at home.
Of fucking course. Just your luck.
Your team found their own places to sit while your coach checked you in. You didn’t dare go anywhere close that asshole, but you could feel his heated gaze on you, never leaving.
Your coach walked back up to your group and started handing out room keys.
“Now, since there’s an odd number of us, someone gets their own room.” He grunted out. Your other teammates immediately started asking for it, not wanting to share a room with anyone else. You were too distracted by the gaze on you to partake in the begging.
“Now, now, I’m giving it to our winner for today. She deserves it.” He said, handing the key out toward you and snapping you out of your daze. You smiled tightly and took the key card from him, your other teammates jokingly booing at you. You laughed and flicked some of them off.
As you and your team walked up to your floor, you still felt those eyes on you, except this time you didn’t acknowledge him.
You made your way down the corridor, damp hair still slinging to your neck, the low hush of your teammates' voices fading behind you as you drifted further from their cluster. The key card was thick between your fingers and you spun it around and around, unable to keep the restless energy from your hands or the sense of being watched from crawling up your spine.
You told yourself you didn’t care. You had beaten him. You’d gotten the solo room. He could look all he wanted.
The hallway was quiet, carpet muffling your footsteps and the air thick with the lingering scent of pool chemicals and the faint trace of someone’s cologne. Maybe his. You shoved that thought right back down where it came from and pushed your door open.
The room was bright, a single bed crisply made, and silent except for the echo of your heart in your chest.
You kicked your shoes off, dropped your bag by the desk, and peeled off your jacket. The adrenaline from earlier was still slightly there, and you sighed as you checked your phone for any new notifications.
The knock at the door had your head snapping up from your phone to the door.
They’re already knocking at the door? You saw them two minutes ago.
When you got to the door you pulled on the handle and opened it, ready to make a teasing remark at your teammate about already missing you. Only it wasn’t your teammate. It was Anton.
He stood in your doorway, as if he belonged there. As if he’d been invited, when you both knew he hadn’t. He filled the space with unapologetic energy, one arm braced casually against the doorframe, his body still lean and strong and his hair slightly darker, like yours, from lingering moisture. The smell hit you: chlorine, the clean scent of his bodywash, and that cologne, subtle and sharp and unmistakably him.
You blinked. For a breathless second, neither of you spoke.
He smiled, slow and deliberate, with a hungry, slightly amused glint in his eyes. “Expecting someone else?” His voice was deep, edged with laughter.
You leaned your shoulder against the door, half blocking his view of the room. “You must be lost. The asshole convention’s down the hall.”
He huffed a short laugh, not moving. “I thought I’d congratulate you properly.” His eyes flicked from your face to your neck, to your collarbone. You felt the heat of his gaze like he was physically touching you. For a second, neither of you moved. The air between your bodies felt charged, riddled with tension and something else you couldn’t and didn’t want to name.
“Funny,” he said, his voice lowering. “But I’m right where I want to be.”
You rolled your eyes, but the gesture felt weak even to you. Up close, his presence was suffocating. The width of his shoulders blocked out the hallway light. His arm, still braced against the doorframe, caged you even as you stood your ground.
“Congratulations delivered. You can go now,” you said, keeping your tone even, your chin up. But you didn’t close the door.
He tilted his head, studying you, and you realized he saw right through the confidence act. “You always this polite to your fans?” he asked, and the words made your skin crawl with irritation.
But you didn’t take the bait. Instead, you fixed him with that look you’d perfected over the years of racing side-by-side – sharp, unimpressed. He leaned in, just enough that you could see the pretty shade of brown in the details of his eyes, and for a moment you allowed yourself to breathe him in.
“Only the ones who lose as pathetically as you,” you shot back, the words coming out huskier than you meant. It was impossible to ignore the way his eyes darkened at that, the twitch of his jaw as he processed your nearness. He was so close you could count the freckles across his collarbone, could see the way his throat worked as he swallowed.
He didn’t move back, but stepped closer, shifting his weight so that his hips brushed the edge of the door. His arm remained above your head, effectively pinning you in place, but you didn’t shrink away. You could feel the tension in his stare.
It vibrated between you, not quite touching, but almost – like electricity.
You licked your lips. His gaze tracked it, sharp and intent. Every sensible thought in your head told you to make a snarky comment and slam the door in his face, but you just… didn’t. Maybe you liked the way the air got thick when he stepped this close, the way his voice dipped when he spoke to you, just for you. Even if every word was meant to rile you up.
You wondered if he could see your pulse beating in your throat. It felt obvious, loud, like it was beating for his attention.
Anton dropped his face a little nearer, the shadow of his jaw cutting a clean line only inches from yours. “Go on, then,” he murmured, voice low. “Prove you’re better, yeah?”
The words set something wild loose in your chest, and you felt something pulse inside you. You should’ve laughed. You should’ve pushed him out, locked the door and gone straight to the shower and then to bed. But here you were, pulling him into your room and slamming the door shut behind him.
He barely had a chance to react before you shoved him back, hard, the force of it sending his spine gently to the wall. You caught the flash of surprise in his eyes, but it only made his mouth curve higher. For a second, neither of you moved; you just stood together in that bright, silent room, close enough that your breaths mingled and the tension between you felt raw and almost physical.
He looked at you, really looked, heat pooling in his gaze, and you realized with a fierce jolt that he wanted this as badly as you did. You pressed forward, erasing the last bit of space, and kissed him.
It was nothing like you’d imagined—not soft, not tentative, but fever-hot and reckless, hungry and desperate and the taste of chlorine and him. He caught your lower lip between his teeth, sharp with need, and you felt his hands find your waist, fingers digging into your skin.
You let him, for just a moment, because it felt good and right and you wanted to hear what he’d do if you stopped pretending to hate his guts.
But you didn’t give him all the control – not for a second. You pushed up on your toes, kissed him harder, your mouth parting under his, and the soft surprised sound he made vibrated straight through your chest and down in between your legs.
His hands slid lower, splaying over your hips and dragging you flush against him, and you knew he was just as breathless and done for as you.
He kissed like he competed: relentless, greedy, all-consuming. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, not gentle, and he groaned against your mouth, one palm fisting the back of your shirt to pull you impossibly closer.
The tension was so messy, and when your fingers tangled in his still-damp hair, tugging, he broke away just enough to let out a shaky breath against your cheek.
You didn’t wait for him to say anything clever. You nipped sharply at his jaw, felt the muscle tense under your teeth, and heart the way his breath hitched. He chased your mouth, catching it again, but you tugged him back by his hair and continued your attack on his neck.
You could feel the coiled tension in Anton’s arms, the way his fingers curled possessively around your hips, and the way his mouth kept trying to find yours hungrily.
“Didn’t expect this to be your way of proving you’re better,” he said, a smirk on his mouth and his voice soft against your ear, “is it my turn yet?”
You scoffed, let your teeth find his earlobe for just a second, sharp enough to make his take in a harsh breath, before you eased back just barely enough to meet his eyes.
Anton’s hands tightened on your hips once more, bruising, like he was fighting the impulse to just take. The thought made you feel hot and dizzy.
You wanted him, you wanted this, and the need was suddenly so sharp it scraped through your composure. You dragged Anton toward the bed, not caring how graceless it looked.
His lips were on yours again, and your hands yanked desperately at the hem of his shirt. He returned the favor, fingers rough and greedy, hauling your clothes over your head and discarding them somewhere behind you.
Everything was teeth and tongue and fumbling hands, hips bumping against the edge of the bed as the both of you reached for each other's bare skin. You laughed breathlessly when you finally got his shirt off, immediately eating him up with your eyes. You saw him half naked during competitions all the time, but it was different in this context – almost like you were truly seeing him.
His eyes were devouring you. His hands were already sliding up to your chest, groping you as if he needed to touch every inch at once. You were pressed so close there was no space left at all.
You felt Anton's fingers drag down your stomach, a rough, greedy slide that had you shivering and arching into his touch.
“Look at you, already desperate for it,” he murmured, a smug, dark laugh pressed against your neck. He didn’t wait for you to respond, just slipped his hand between your legs, cupping you through your underwear. His fingers stroked you, slow at first, then harder, until you gasped against his mouth.
“Knew you’d be greedy,” he said softly. “Could feel you looking at me all day. But I didn’t think you’d be this fucking wet, sweetheart.” The words made you clench around nothing, not even able to form a response, and when he finally slid your panties aside and pushed his fingers inside you, you nearly sobbed.
He stretched you ruthlessly, thumb rubbing hard circles and making you squirm. He ran his other hand down to your waist, pushing down and holding you in place.
“Please, I need- please…” you begged, needing him inside of you.
His lips turned up into that infuriating smirk you love. He could tell you just wanted him to fuck you already.
“I’ve gotta stretch you out first, angel. You can’t take all of me without it.” He said, so soft it was barely above a whisper. You couldn’t catch the hint of condescendence in his tone, you were too far gone already.
You whined and whimpered until you felt pressure building in your stomach. Anton’s fingers kept their steady pace, his thumb working those intense circles on your clit until you shattered against his hand, his voice gentle and reassuring in your ear.
“That’s right, show me how good you are. Bet you’ve never cum this fast for anyone else,” he breathed into your ear, and the words burned straight through you.
You arched helplessly, muscles clenching around his fingers, your body already trembling with aftershocks and the humiliation of how easy he made it look. But you didn’t care – you wanted more, all of it, especially when his mouth found yours again, almost tender now, as if he was tasting just how desperate you were.
You barely registered the way he manhandled you up onto the bed, dragging you higher so you sprawled beneath him, your legs open and shivering as he slotted his hips between them.
You could feel his cock, hard and heavy, pressed right against you through his still-clinging briefs. He made no secret of how desperate he was, grinding into you just once, slow, so you could feel every inch.
You reached for him without thinking, your fingers yanking the waistband down, impatient, and he let you, watching you through his lashes, his eyes heavy and blown as you freed him.
He groaned softly, the pleasure in his eyes so vivid and unrestrained in the way he looked at you. You wrapped your fingers around him before you even thought about it, desperate to feel his weight and how hard he was for you.
Anton was so thick and hot against your palm, and his hips jerked forward, the motion desperate and hungry.
“Fuck,” he muttered, barely more than a groan, and you felt it everywhere, your body tightening with a new frantic need to have him inside of you.
He caught your wrist and pinned it above your head, holding you there with holding you there with unsurprising ease. It was primal, the way he wanted to control the pace, and the way he didn’t want to give an inch without making you work for it.
He finally pulled your panties off, your wetness sticking to them and making them practically see through. He threw them where his pants were on the ground, smirking at you. “I’m keeping those for later.”
You rolled your eyes and tugged at his shoulders. “Just fuck me already. Please I’m so…please, Anton.”
He bit his lip at the sound of his name, the way it rolled off your tongue in that needy tone, and he swore he would’ve snapped and eaten you up right then and there if it weren’t for his impeccable control.
“Say it again for me.” He demanded. He definitely wasn’t asking, and he made that clear through the look in his eyes.
Your own eyes fluttered, breath sharp in your chest. “Anton,” you repeated, and it came out just as thin and just as desperate as the last time. “Please. I need you so bad.”
He looked at you like you’d never been rivals at all m and stripped away the last inch of space between you bodies. His hips slotted flush against yours. He lined himself up at your entrance, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, lubing himself up with all of your slick. You could feel the thick head of his cock pushing, just barely there, not enough, just a tease.
He leaned over you, his mouth grazing the edge of your jaw, his voice hungry and rough.
“Good girl.” The praise seared through your nerves. “You want it so bad, don’t you? Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t stand tomorrow?”
You nodded, too far gone for words. He grinned that pretty grin of his – all teeth and dimples – and bit his lip.
He pressed into you. The slight stretch burned, his fingers only helping so much from how thick he was.
You gasped, the sting of the stretch punching the breath out of you, his cock pressing into you slow and relentless. Anton watched you with a dark, greedy intensity, like he was cataloging every twitch, every whine, every whimper. He eased forward, sinking deeper, the drag of him inside you obscene.
Your thighs were shaking from how good he filled you up. His grip on your waist was bruising, and somewhere in the back of your mind you hoped the marks would show for more than just a few days.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, his forhead pressing to yours. You could feel him trembling slightly, his restraint becoming thinner and thinner. He wasn’t gentle, but he didn’t rush, letting you feel every deserved inch as he bottomoned out, hips flush to yours, bodies fused together.
You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He smirked, feeling your cunt squeeze impossibly tighter around him. It was taking every single atom in his body to not pound into you right then and there.
His hips have a shallow, testing thrust. The friction was dizzying; you arched into him chasing it, desperate for more.
“Look at my pretty girl, hm?” Anton murmured, voice thick with hunger. “Taking it so well for me.” His breath was hot against your cheek, his body bracketed over you. You wanted every bit of him. You wanted him to leave you shaking and full and ruined.
He pulled out to the tip, slow, and pushed back in so deep you thought he might be rearranging your guts. Each thrust was deliberate, hard enough to jolt the headboard and send a filthy noise into the echoey hotel room.
You clung to him, nails raking his shoulder blades, and he groaned at the sting, rutting against you harder. The world blurred to the heat of his skin, the weight of his body on yours, and the slick friction with every roll of his hips.
You tried to fight the sounds spilling from your lips, but it was useless – the moans, the needy, desperate whimpers. Anton ate up every sound, his mouth finding your neck, biting just enough to make you gasp and clench around his pulsing cock.
“Wanna fill you up so bad. You like this don’t you?” he panted against your throat. He was getting talkative, and that made you think maybe he was going to cum soon. “I know you do, baby. I know.”
You shuddered, unable to hide it, your legs locking hard around his waist. You wished you could say something – beg for something, dirty talk to him too – but nothing was making its way out of your mouth except the punched out little moans from his deep thrusts.
The sound you made on a particularly harsh thrust was almost embarrassing, but Anton drank it in, his hips grinding deep and slow, the drag thick and obscene. He kept you pinned with one big hand, the other moving possessively over your throat and jaw. Not tight, just enough to remind you who had you, who was inside you, stretching you so wide it left you breathless.
“You’re so needy for it, fuck. You keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna cum.”
You tightened around him again, just to feel how his hips stuttered inside you, his control fraying with every wet, slick thrust. You wanted to see him lose it, wanted to ruin him the way he’d already ruined you, so you let your hips rock up, catching the thick grind of his cock just perfectly. The sound he made was so raw, desperate.
“Yeah?” you whispered, voice trembling but so fucking proud. “You gonna cum inside me, Anton?” You said his name like a taunt – or a promise – your lips brushing his jaw, your tongue flicking out to taste the salt and sweat where his pulse pounded.
“Angel,” he gritted out, mouth hungry on your neck. “You feel so good, you have no idea.” He moaned, hand tightening at your throat just slightly, his big palm spanning across your jaw and cheek as he fucked into you rougher, harder, like he needed to imprint you on every part of his body.
Anton’s other hand tightened on your hip, possessive. “You gonna take it for me?” he rasped against your mouth, his breath coming out in rough pants. “Let me fill you up?”
You nodded, dizzy, your entire body strung out and your mind gone with all of your thoughts.
He watched you through hooded, hungry eyes, the lines of his face sharp with focus and something primal. He wanted you full and messy and gasping, and he wasn’t shy about it. With every thick, punishing thrust, he brought you closer to the edge, body pinning you hard to the mattress, his voice rough, but with a certain softness to it, in your ear.
“That’s it, fuck…Let me feel you.” His hand slid from your throat to your jaw, his thumb pressing at the corner of your mouth, demanding, obsessive, yours to bite or suck or moan around if you dared.
You did, lips parting so he could press his thumb inside. You sucked at it, greedy, eyes fluttering shut from the obscene pleasure of being taken this way, and Anton nearly came inside you right then and there.
He swore, voice guttural against your skin, and the pace of his thrusts stuttered for a split second as you sucked at his thumb, greedy and shameless. He seemed to savor it, every slick pull of your mouth, and his hips surged forward with a new, frenzied need. The way he filled you was devastating and relentless – a slow, thick grind that made your entire body tighter in anticipation.
“Such a good fucking girl, hm? So pretty, so fucking needy for me.” he whispered, forhead pressed to yours, obsession and awe wound together in every syllable.
“Don’t stop, fuck, please- don’t stop.” You begged, your words slurring together and barely making it out of your mouth. You were so close to coming and you could tell it would be intense.
The tension inside you built sharp and unyielding, pleasure turning molten, until you could barely hold yourself together. Anton’s body pressed you down, thick cock stretching you so perfectly, and the bed creaked beneath every rough thrust. His thumb dragged out from your mouth, wet with your spit, and he pressed it to your lips, watching the way you chased the touch, needy and shameless.
The only sound in the room was broken breathing and the slap of skin, the wet pulse of your cunt around him, and the way you whimpered when he hit just right, over and over. You were making him lose his control and his restraint with every squeeze.
“Listen to yourself,” Anton panted, his fingers digging deeper into your hip. “You’re soaking for me, I can hear your pretty pussy leaking for me.”
You whimpered, the shameful sound muffled by his hand as your body seized suddenly, pleasure snapping so hard you almost sobbed. Anton felt you clamp down and only rutted deeper, his hips never faltering, cock grinding against the spot inside you with brutal, perfect certainty.
“Fuck that’s it. Knew you’d cum for me, but I didn’t think you’d fall apart this easy,” he taunted, voice rough, and his lips dragging a filthy smile across your jaw.
You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, not when the aftershocks were already too much. Your thighs shook, muscles fluttering uncontrollably, but he didn’t give you a moment to recover.
Instead, his fingers slid down, rubbing your clit mercilessly, circling fast and slick and mean. You jerked, crying out loudly and trying to squirm away, but Anton pinned you flat with his weight, pushing harder. “Sensitive now, aren’t you? Bet you can’t take it, yeah?” he crooned, his hand working you while his cock drove in and out.
The pressure building in your stomach exploded again, your cunt getting even wetter, helpless under the overstimulation. Anton’s laugh was low in your ear as he forced you through another, even harsher orgasm.
You writhed, sobbing into his shoulder, everything inside you seizing hard as the orgasm washed over you, pussy fluttering and squeezing around Anton’s cock. He fucking loved it. You could hear it in the way he let out a ragged, triumphant sound. You could feel it in the way his hips ground deeper, reducing to let you go.
“Fuuuck, that’s it, just like that,” he choked, voice full of awe and hunger. “You’re milking me, sweetheart. Squeezing my cock so fucking perfect.”
You couldn’t breathe, your nails scraping down his back again as he pounded you through every single trembling aftershock. He didn’t show you any mercy, fucking you even harder, the slap of skin echoing in the hotel room, the sound obscene.
“Taking it so good, baby. You were made for this, weren’t you?” His hand slid up, cupping your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek and wiping your tears away.
And then he reached up, found your hands gripping tight onto the sheets, and tangled his fingers with yours above your head. His grip was so sure, so grounding, you would have gasped at the intimacy of it if you were present instead of your brain being so fuzzy.
His pace stuttered, and you felt him shudder above you, holding you through the way his body tensed, every muscle straining and trembling as he fucked you even harder, chasing his own orgasm.
“I’m gonna fill you up, just like you want, Angel. Gonna make sure you know just who you belong to.” he growled, voice harsh and shaking slightly. His cock throbbed inside you, thick and perfect and sensitive.
Your whole body arched to meet him, and you could feel his control slipping, unraveling right where you wanted him.
He slammed into you, harder and harder, his rhythm erratic now and his breath ragged at your ear. “Fuck, fuck, you feel so good,” he gasped, every word running straight through you. “You’re gonna take it, yeah? Gonna let me give you all my cum?”
You nodded, choking on a moan, your whole body seizing as his hips stuttered inside you one last time and he thrust into you one more time, his cock hitting so deep he touched your cervix.
The moan he let out was animalistic and guttural, filling the room with raw noise. His body trembled over yours as he came, cock pulsing inside you, spilling himself deep where you ached for it. You felt every spasm of his, and the way he ground his hips down to make sure you took every desperate drop, like he wanted to fucking drown you in it.
He stayed inside you, not loosening his hold on your hands, his forehead pressed into your neck and both of you panting like you’d just raced the length of the pool. Your whole body trembled, and you felt like the aftershocks were never ending.
You could sense he was about to pull out, but you needed to be close to him. You couldn’t let him go just yet – not when he had just filled you up like he was trying to impregnate you.
You freed your hands from his and wrapped your arm around his back, tugging him closer. “Don’t pull out. Wanna stay like this, want you to make sure your cum doesn’t go to waste.”
His cock twitched violently at that, and he let out a groan, his teeth gritted together like he was in pain. “Don’t say shit like that, Angel,” he said. It was already taking everything in him not to get hard again and fuck you through the night.
But you liked the way his pulse jumped under your palm, the way his cock twitched inside you, overstimulated but still greedy for more. You wrapped your thighs tighter around his hips, locking him to you and not letting a single drop escape.
You shouldn’t have said it, but you couldn’t help the way you ached, the way you’d take him over and over if he wanted. You wondered if he could tell, or if he’d just assumed you’d be done after that. But you weren’t. Every inch of you was perfectly sore, oversensitive, still trembling from the aftershocks of him, and yet, still greedy for whatever came next.
Anton buried his face in your neck, breathing hard. His cock throbbed once inside you, a deep, hungry pulse. “You’re trouble,” he muttered, that pretty smirk on his lips.
You stroked a slow line down his back. “If you get needy again…you can use me. Even if I’m asleep. Just wake me up, or don’t. I don’t care.”
His breath stuttered, and you felt the way his whole body tensed, the way his cock tried to harden inside you again at the promise. He pressed his lips to your jaw lingering there, claiming you with the press of his body and the heat in his eye.
“Careful,” he whispered, “I might take you up on that.”
And if anyone would have told you last week that you’d end up sleeping with Anton from the rival swim team you would have laughed so hard you probably would have suffocated. Because the chances of you falling into bed with that annoying asshole of a man? Impossible.
₪ synopsis: after years of not speaking, anton and yn unexpectedly reconnect through snapchat. what starts as a simple conversation quickly turns into talking almost every day, despite the distance and different time zones. as their bond grows stronger, yn finds herself falling for an idol who lives on the other side of the world, leaving her to wonder if some connections are worth the distance…
₪ genre: fake texts, smau, one!shot au, fluff, idol anton x non!idol reader, situationship > relationship
⤷ summary: anton claims his facial hair grows too fast and pleads with you to help him because he struggles to reach the corners but that's just an excuse. simply put, there's no better feeling than being held by your soft hands. it's become the best part of his morning routine because you transform the mundane task of his shaving routine into a quiet, tender declaration of love. you haven't told him yet, but it's your favorite thing too.
⤷ genre: just complete and utter fluff!
⤷ warnings: a obscene amount of petnames (baby, angel, toni, etc.), they’re disgustingly in love! very indulgent of me, what can i say hehe
⤷ song rec: always - daniel ceasar, i’ve been listening looping the clip of anton singing this while on live while i write. here’s the link!
a/n: i wrote this because anton keeps commenting that his beard grows the fastest out of all the members and i can’t stop thinking about domestic moments with him. as always likes/blogs are always appreciated, please lmk your thoughts <3
“Baby, sit still. Or I’m going to cut your chin, please.”
You tap his shoulder to get him to stop moving and remind him that you refuse to be held responsible if he inadvertently injures himself. He laughs at that, and ends up pretend-sulking at your attempts to tame his clingy self.
It’s half past nine, and you both have plans to hit the farmer’s market and walk around the park before coming back to make breakfast. Really, that means you’re going to catch up on your weeks while you sit on the bar counter and do your daily sudoku puzzle. You’re just supervising Anton to make sure he doesn’t burn down the kitchen while he makes you your usual Sunday brunch of chocolate chip pancakes with berries, crispy, almost borderline burnt bacon and eggs sunny side up, the only way you can stomach them.
Currently, you’re occupied with the task of shaving your boyfriend’s “beard” that you had to squint at to notice this morning. You’re positioned on top the bathroom counter, while your boyfriend stands between your dangling legs, lowering his knees so you’re eye to eye. You tilt his chin toward your line of vision and carefully apply shaving cream around his jaw, admiring his flawless facial structure as you go. His facial hair hasn’t grown that long; you remember the stubble was only lightly poking you when you kissed him goodnight yesterday, but from afar, the hairs are practically invisible. Still, when the first thing you encountered this morning was him rolling onto you and nestling his head into his chest, looking up at you like a kicked puppy and begging you to help him, you couldn’t say no.
Not that you ever have—pride taking front stage ever since he claimed that you always do it better than he does and his face feels infinitely smoother after your touch. You don’t bother to call him out on his bluff, because it’s really too cute. He still acts like you hung the stars every day, despite dating for over 2 years now.
Around the six-month mark of your relationship, Anton shared with you that, growing up, his dad was a goose dad—a music producer who visited sporadically from his work in South Korea to their estate on the outskirts of New Jersey. For a while, it was just his mom and him until his brother came into the picture. In many ways, you figure that’s why he’s so sensitive about his skin and health, in a way that you don’t quite pick up on in other men his age. He never skips a supplement to this day. Throw in the fact that your boyfriend can be a diva sometimes; you’ve come to understand that Anton loves nothing more than being pampered by those he loves. The first night you slept over at his small dorm, you were shocked to come out of the bathroom to your boyfriend sitting with a book in hand, and a collagen face mask adorning his pretty face.
“Are those masks why your skin is always so clear?”
“A proper magician never reveals his secrets… but yeah. It is.”
Ever since then, you’ve picked up on the small ways he takes care of his hygiene and appearance. He claims it’s only gotten worse since he started dating you, transforming from a broke college student with just a little more than the essentials, such as a few masks his mom drops off when she remembers, to having a special shelf in the bathroom cupboard and a section in his fridge for the skincare products you picked out for him. In his head, he refuses to let you walk around with an unkempt partner, denying the opportunity to give anyone a reason to think that you two aren’t the perfect match even if it’s through a superficial lens.
“Sorry, angel. You’re just too pretty. Wanna kiss you so bad,” Anton’s eyes have been hyperfocused on your lips like a hawk ever since he placed you down on the ceramic. His arms circle your waist like a snake tightening its grip on prey, trying to bring you even closer. His lips are unconsciously set in a distracting pout, the bottom one obnoxiously jutting out in hopes that it’s enough to reach yours, and you have to will yourself to focus on the task at hand.
Anton can’t help it when you’re so gentle with handling him. He feels like you’re holding his whole heart in your hands; he’s wrapped in the tightest loop around your pretty fingers. With you around, his usual 7-minute shaving routine turns into an intentional, love-laced 15-minute ritual. You make everything feel special, he thinks. It’s just a bonus that you’re always so cute with your eyebrows furrowed, trying to get even the smallest of his baby chin hairs.
“My baby is so cute. You’re so cute; did you know that?”
“Yes, Toni. You only remind me like 50 times a day.”
“My bad. I’m actually supposed to remind you 51 times.”
“You’re the cutest ever. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
You hum in response, still focused on making sure you don’t prick him when you drag the razor down the side of his chin. His small declarations of love aren’t limited to the morning only, but it’s as if Anton wakes up ready to shower you in affection every day. He’s so incredibly soft, just malleable in your hands when you’re holding him and taking care of him so intentionally like this.
“My favorite place ever. I love sharing this life with you. I want every morning to be like this.”
“Okay, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” You laugh at his antics, partially to hide the fact that your cheeks are getting redder by the minute, the heat also transferring to the tips of your ears.
You finish the last swipe with the razor, run the soft towel you laid out under hot water, and gently dab at his face to get the remaining cream off.
“There, baby. All done.”
“Give me a kiss.”
“Aren’t you going to admire my work first? The mirror’s right behind me.”
Anton makes a show out of quickly shifting his gaze off of you to look in the mirror, head turning side to side as he praises your hard work. His face breaks out into a smile, all while he brings his hand up to touch where the stubble was previously, relishing the buttery softness of it all, and he redirects his attention back to you.
“Perfect as always. My baby’s the best. Now, does she accept tips in the form of kisses or no?”
You can’t hold back the laugh this time. He’s so ridiculous, but he’s all yours. Unable to keep torturing yourself and him like this, you lean in quickly and peck his lips once. Then twice. Then a third time. Just as you tip your head back and decide it’s time to get off the counter, Anton closes the distance between you two to kiss you a few more times until he feels that it’s satisfactory enough.
“Thank you, angel,” he hums in his little happy tone as he expresses his appreciation for you, gleeful and lovestruck as ever.
“Of course, Toni.”
Your mind circles back to the passing comment he made earlier and your face immediately burns up.
“...I want every morning to be like this.”
You’ve thought about it too. You’ve had this reoccurring thought that gnaws away at you: being with Anton feels too easy. It’s too easy to settle into his routine, your life opening up to make space for him just as he’s shown you time and time again that you’re his priority through it all. It’s too easy to imagine yourself moving in together, coming home to him after a long day, celebrating his first job promotion. The apologetic cuddles that will unfold after you disagree and clash over which kitchenware belongs in which drawer. Anyone else would die to be this in love and be in your shoes, but you can’t deny that the thought annoyingly gives you a sense of tense anxiety. How is it this easy? How does he make it so easy?
You certainly didn’t have the worst dating history or hall of fame of bad exes, but that doesn’t mean you pictured a foreseeable future with any of them. Anton is different; he’s always felt too easy to be around from the start, even when you were just friends getting to know each other. You didn’t want to get too comfortable, especially in the beginning, because it scared you to think about how much you could grow to love him and the pieces you’d have to pick up if things ever went South. So you put up walls for a while, but Anton worked at it every day, tearing them down with the gentle understanding with which he held you, as if he never had a doubt that you were the right one for him.
You felt lovesick for the first few months and attributed it to the quintessential honeymoon phase that every couple is subjected to, but you think you’ve known it for a while. That being here with him like this could be forever for you too. He quells your nervous system in a way that used to feel foreign, but now it puts you at ease knowing you belong to someone so wholly. Anton never feels shy about expressing his love for you, his body wired to tell when you’re too in your head. He senses when you’re being too critical of your performance at work or stressed with the pressure of living up to the expectations your parents set for you, and pulls you right out of the hole before you get the chance bury yourself to the chin up.
You think it’s a forever kind of love when he goes out of his way to cook you dinner (despite not having a single culinary bone in his body) when you’ve been eating out too much due to a hectic schedule and tracks your cycle on his phone so that he can surprise you with chocolates, flowers, and all of the things you know you begin to crave. One look from him at you, and he can pinpoint exactly what’s wrong and how to pacify the situation. He always jokes that you came with an instructional manual because he can read you so well.
For a long time, you’ve prided yourself on being hyperindependent, always handling things so well on your own, but you were deluding yourself. Time on this planet is better spent with someone else, and Anton is living proof of that. It once terrified you to depend on him, because you weren’t sure if an Anton-sized hole in your heart was survivable. But you’d hate to think being with Anton is scary, because he’s spent every day showing up to prove to you that this is forever for him too.
You feel immense love for him in the most mundane moments. For example, you find it grossly endearing how he’ll indulge you and share his face masks with you at night everytime you sleep over. The first night it happened, you fell asleep first before him, the exhaustion of the day pulling you into slumber. He admired you for a bit, so shy and in disbelief that you were all his. He lightly tucked the hairs that escaped to frame your face behind your ear, then readjusted himself so he could peel the sheet off your face and toss it into the trashcan he always keeps near his bed before slotting himself in next to you.
This indulgence has only grown in amplitude. Now, it’s become customary for you to accompany him to the bathroom, standing side by side, playfully bumping into each other as you wash and prep your skin for bed. Sometimes, when your routine goes over and he finishes first, he’ll stand idly by watching you. His eyes drill holes into your cheek, admiring the way that blush creeps up, obsessed with the physical effect he has on you, and softly inquire about each step of your routine. And now it’s the mornings that you spend cornered in his arms, pampering your lover so he knows you love him in the same way he does.
“Mmm, babygirl. You there?” You realize you disappeared in front of him.
You yelp as he physically nudges you back out of your thoughts as he circles his arms around your waist, gripping you to lift you off the counter and place you down on the floor.
“Sorry, Toni. Just thinking about what you said. About us spending more mornings like this.”
He tucks you into his side, holding you for a little longer, chin resting on the top of your head. He’s always so warm.
“Ohhhh, that. Yeah. Of course, I picture you in my forever,” he says it fully and unapologetically.
It comes out in a way that makes you feel silly for even doubting that forever was ever up in the air with him. You think there’s nothing left for you to do but melt down into a puddle of ultra-saccharine love.
When you don’t respond, he continues.
“That’s why I was thinking… After our leases end in May, we can do some apartment searching. Find a cute spot in downtown that works with our budget. Of course, we’ll make sure to get one with an office for you so you can work from home whenever you want,” His words drift off too, and he seems lost in thought, as if he’s already planning the layout of the apartment and where he'll place his bulky instrument collection.
He looks back up at you, suddenly feeling shy and too conscious of your silence, but the smile on your face tells him everything he needs to know.
“I’d love to, baby. I see you in my forever too.” It feels so good to say it to him. You could say it forever.
His words find solace in your skin, warming you from head to toe. That’s why it’s beyond easy to make time for him and do this for him. Shaving his face, putting on face masks together, taking care of each other like your bodies were put on this earth to do it for each other, like it was written in your genetic code. Like it’s second nature.
You want the promises, and you want the moments in bed spent looking for recipes on TikTok the night before, going grocery shopping the next day, and cooking at each other’s places, navigating life as freshly graduated young adults—you decide you want all of it. You want him. You’re so at peace with him right here.
Everything else will come later, you decide.
A thought pops into your head.
“Hey, if we move in together, I’m going to start accepting cash payments instead of kisses. Zelle, Venmo, or Cash App works, baby. You already know my handles.”
whenever you wake up, the first thing you noticed wasn’t the sunlight pouring in through the window, or the beautiful symphony of the birds chirping. not even the gentle hum of the AC.
what you first noticed was him.
“good morning,” anton mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep as his face was buried somewhere between your neck and shoulder.
you blink, your mind still in a haze due to waking up, when you realize you physically can’t move.
his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. one of his legs is hooked over yours while his hand is resting under your shirt, warm against your stomach as his fingers flexed slightly, like he was making sure you’re still there.
“anton,” you mumbled, your voice scratchy. “i can’t feel my leg.”
“that’s okay,” he replied, almost immediately. he buried his face deeper against you, his grip tightening instantaneously. “it’s not like you need it right now.”
you let out a quiet laugh at that, even if you tried to, unsuccessfully, wiggle free.
“antonnnn, you’re crushing me.”
“i’m cuddling you.” he corrected, not moving an inch.
“you’ve been cuddling me for eight hours now.”
“and i’ll do it for eight more.” he smiled, pressing you closer against his body just to prove a point. you sighed, but there was no real frustration behind it. this was just him.
anton’s the kind of boyfriend who always has to be touching you in some sort of way, but not always in a suffocating, overwhelming sort of way. something more like a hand on your waist. fingers laced with yours. his head on your shoulder. your hand in his hoodie pocket when it’s cold outside.
but right now he’s being particularly stubborn.
“baby,” you try again, softer this time. “i have to get up.“
“you don’t have to.” he emphasized. he wasn’t gonna budge at all. you groaned, trapped in his iron grip. “you’re impossible.”
“mhm, but you love me. come on, please don’t get up?” he asked, his words practically coming out in a whine.
you sighed in defeat, letting him hold on to you.
“okay fine, five more minutes.”
“ten?”
“five.” you warned.
anton frowned, deciding to push his luck. “eight?”
you rolled your eyes. “fine we can just do ten.”
he beamed at you like a child on christmas day. he settles back in, completely content as his hand drew lazy circles on your side. you stared at the ceiling for a bit, before glancing at him.
🪼⋆｡𖦹°. synopsis: anton catches you touching himself in his bedroom after a night out with the boys, so he lets you use his body to get off
(,,>ヮ<,,)! ~ contents: smut!!! 18+, established relationship, softdom!anton, ab riding, masturbation, fingering, grinding, fingers in mouth, squirting, cum eating
🫧⋆. author's note: 260716 anton is driving me CRAZY. im not ready for waterbomb....
your back arched off of the bed as heat pooled in between your legs. your pants have been long discarded–your index and middle finger rubbing your swollen clit through the thin fabric of your panties. you traced the wet spot over your hole with the tips of your fingers, lightly pressing inside over the material.
it’s been hours since your boyfriend left to hang out with his friends. “baby, it’s boys night–we’re just gonna play some league and doordash some food,” anton begged into the crook of your neck, big arms wrapped around your waist as the two of you laid together on his bed. “i’ll treat you so good when i get back to make up for it, okay? i’ll bring home some snacks too…”
as much as you loved seeing your boyfriend plead and whine, you knew it would be selfish to keep him away from his friends.
so here you were: touching yourself in your boyfriend’s bedroom, imagining the very hands currently hovering over your leaking pussy were his. you bit your lip, trying to suppress the soft moans escaping your mouth.
you turned yourself over; your fingers weren’t enough, you needed more. your fingers weren’t nearly as big or long as anton’s, they couldn’t reach that sweet spot that makes you see stars. you grabbed hold of his pillow and began thrusting your hips against it, trying so desperately to come to your release.
you embraced the pillow, burying your face into it as your fingers led themselves right back to your inner thighs. tears streamed down your cheeks as you touched yourself: not because of the pleasure–but because of how much you missed your boyfriend.
“baby, i brought us some sushi. it’s downstairs if you want any-”
anton ruffled his hair as he walked into the bedroom and saw you: sprawled atop his bed with your hand in between your legs, eyes watery. you sniffled, embarrassed of being caught in the act. you face your back towards him, too shy to look him in the eyes.
“are you okay? do you need anything?” he asked. however, his voice lost that soft edge to it. “look at me.”
anton crawls on top of the bed, legs caging you in as he positioned himself on top of you. he straddles you, hands roaming your body before they settle on your waist. “did you miss me?”
you whimper, running your hand down his jaw as you pulled him close, crashing your lips onto his. anton follows your pace, lowering his body to meet yours before drawing his lips back.
“tony–please–” you muttered.
“fuck, just–” he gasped for breath as you kissed his collarbone. you sucked down, wrapping your arms around him as you bruised his neck. anton groaned, palming your breasts through your shirt. anton lightly pulled your head away from his neck and back to his lips, pressing his tongue into the heat of your mouth as he slowly rocked his hips against yours. the air between the two of you grew hot–soft moans and whimpers filling the room as your bodies ached. you tugged on his shirt. anton helped you lift the cloth up and over his head, exposing his bare torso.
one thing about your boyfriend’s body stood out to you: his abs.
you knew he had been working out a lot more recently, but hell–anton’s six-pack was no joke… his tongue explored your mouth as your hands roamed over his stomach, muscles tensing underneath your touch. with a few more caresses of his abs, you felt the bulge of his dick rub against your inner thigh.
“baby, can i ask you something?” he whimpered, grabbing your wrists.
“tony just say it, i just really need–”
“do you wanna ride ‘em?”
you paused and looked up at him, his hand still holding your wrists in place. “what?”
“my abs. i’m sorry if that’s weird–it’s just that i always see you staring at them…” he paused. “it…kinda turns me on…” he avoided your gaze.
your thighs rubbed together, panties absolutely drenched with this new information. you kicked your leg up and rolled the two of you over so anton was underneath you. your hips rested directly on his stomach.
“shit–you’re so wet, i can feel it,” he trailed his hands under your shirt. “can i take this off?”
“yeah.” you lifted up your arms, allowing your boyfriend to lift your shirt up and over your head before tossing it to the floor. he palmed your sides as he slowly pulled your hips back and forth, moaning as he spread your juices all over his abs.
“d–does that feel good?” he moaned. you responded with a nod; you couldn’t bring yourself to speak–rubbing your pussy all over him. it didn’t even matter that there wasn’t anything inside you–fuck, just feeling his six-pack on your clit was doing wonders.
you bucked your hips against him–thrusting onto him as he moaned softly. anton pulled down his sweats and briefs, slowly stroking the length of his dick.
“you’re doing really good for me baby, keep going…” anton shut his eyes and groaned before parting your lips with his free hand. he pressed the tips of his middle and ring finger into your mouth, murmuring a quiet ‘good girl’ as he slipped the digits in. the feeling of your tongue around his fingers and your pussy on his abs was enough to make him moan.
you continued jerking your hips against him–becoming an absolute moaning mess. “tony, i’m gonna cum–”
“already? just from this?” he laughed, rubbing his wet dick. the sound of slapping skin filled your ears; your boyfriend getting off just from watching you hump him may have just become one of your biggest turn-ons…
“tony–i’m actually gonna–” you moaned as you came to your release, squirting all over anton’s stomach. he moaned and splattered cum all over your back, thick white juices coating his long fingers as well. anton removed his fingers from your mouth and replaced it with his other hand, forcing his cum into your throat.
“baby you’re so good–so good for me…” he moaned as he watched you swallow his semen, lathering your juices over his body with his free hand.
he removed his fingers from your mouth, cum licked clean–almost as if nothing happened… he pulled you off of him, the two of you breathing heavily as anton placed you next to him in bed. you wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his scent as you slowly came down from your high.
anton caressed your back, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear. “i love you…i love you so much baby.” he whined.
𓏵 your boyfriend would never try anything with you, unless you were asleep *ੈ✩‧₊˚
ナナ’s ⦂ hello hello is this thing on… 🎙️sorry for being mia for literally 3 whole months and thank you to anon for requestinggg ♡ +not proofread
anton tried his best to keep himself… composed, especially around you; his sweet girlfriend who’d seemed more like a pure angel than a human. but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself, especially when you slept over at his place. in his defense, you wore his oversized clothes with nothing underneath. of course he was turned on.
and tonight was no different.
you laid in his bed, cozied up in his huge t-shirt that you stole from his closet. anton rested on your chest, your hand lazily combing a hand through his hair, as your eyes gradually shut on their own.
noticing you’d finally drifted off, anton let out a sigh of relief, not having to hide the growing tent in his pants any longer. he pulled the thick blanket off his legs, finally cooling off from the trapped heat that built up.
“fuck…” he looked down at himself, a hard-on way too far gone for him to sleep it off. plus, even if he did, he’d have some dumb wet dream about you and end up grinding on your leg.
he gently moved your hand away from his head, propping himself up on his elbows, staring at your knocked-out self. the soft outline of your nipples peeked out from the thin shirt you wore, basically taunting him to touch you right then and there. he couldn’t resist the urge to give in.
delicately, he pulled your shirt further up, gathering it at your neck. he slowly dipped down onto your bare chest, lips brushing over your nipple. his eyes swiftly peered up at your unconscious face, making sure you weren’t awake while he did this – if you caught him, he knew you’d break up with him.
what he didn’t know was that you had already woken up.
more under the cut ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
he deliberately attached his lips to your nipple, moving with caution as the warmth of his saliva spread onto your chest. his hand toyed with your free breast, groping it as he lost all his senses, too immersed with busying his mouth.
using all the persistence you had in your body, you kept silent, letting your boyfriend use your unaware – to him, at least – body however he wanted. yet, when the tip of his tongue swirled along your nipple, you couldn’t help but arch your back into his touch, giving into the tease.
“god, you respond so well to my touch, baby.” he muttered to himself, beginning to grind against your leg. you could feel him getting harder, imprint getting more obvious as he rubbed himself on you.
you thought that you had hidden the fact that you were completely awake well, not a single peep slipping out. until he pulled away from your breast. the sensation of the cooling air hitting the saliva on your nipple elicited a soft yelp that was just loud enough for anton to hear.
he froze hearing your voice, heart dropping to his stomach as he realised how your breathing was fluctuating, unlike when you were asleep. “fuck.” his eyes widened in fear. “y/n, i’m sorry. i promise this is the only time i’ve ever done this and it’ll be the last! and i–”
but you didn’t care. you pulled him back into your chest without a second to spare. “baby, i don’t care.” you ran a hand through his hair, carding through the longer parts.
