could u write something about anton acting really nonchalant but secretly being extremelyyy perverted, like the first time that you hang out with him is normal but as you get to know him you realize he’s freaked out and he acts really innocent whenever that type of topic comes up but then one day he accidentally admits he wants to do something insanely dirty with you
idk i just need more secret freak anton content!
as an undercover freak, i know a fellow undercover freak when i see one and anton definitely meets the criteria. also i lowkirkuienly ignored the word nonchalant in here. so sorry
5.2k, big dick anton, unprotected sex, switch(?) anton (i don’t actually know he, i interpreted it as him being slightly manipulative but i don’t think he cares that much), oral (f) receiving, recording. also i know there’s a bunch of capitalization errors, i typed it in lc first then got lazy while editing
Every other weekend when no one was too busy, Shotaro threw one of his parties.
In truth, they were more like small gatherings with close friends and perhaps a few friends of their own that he knew, if he was expecting to be short a couple of the usual crew.
That was how you got invited this Saturday. Riku, Sion, and Taesan were all away on some exploit that went unexplained to you, and Shotaro charged Wonbin with the task of picking a handful of other people to invite over. One of those people ended up being you, and you were pleased to know you’d been hastily approved of.
“There's actually someone I've been meaning to introduce you to,” Shotaro said when he called you over the phone to personally invite you himself.
That had your attention. “Who?” you asked. You and Shotaro were not particularly close, but he was always a delight to be around, and given that he was inviting you to one of his intimate gatherings, it seemed the feeling was mutual.
“Do you know Anton?”
You hummed. “um, I've heard Wonbin mention him a few times in passing. He's friends with Sohee, right?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I think you guys would really get along. He's super passionate about music, like you, it’s basically his whole life. He's always got his macbook on him so he can listen to music or make something. and he’s super chill. I'm sure you’d like him. Everyone likes Anton.”
You listened attentively. This Anton, whoever he was, seemed like your time of guy. “Yeah, he sounds cool. I'd love to meet him. I can't give you a definitive answer right now, but I can text you like two days before to let you know if I can make it or not.”
“Sounds good,” Shotaro said smoothly. “talk to you later.”
“peace,” you said, and hung up.
That week, you had a handful of late sessions, but you managed to get into one that ran a little earlier, and Saturday night, you arrived at one of the local pubs Shotaro and his friends frequented when his apartment wouldn’t do justice to the amount of people he was intent on having.
Shotaro noticed the second you arrived and came over to you with a smile on his face and two drinks in hand. “You made it,” he said, handing a bottle over. “Strawberry cider, right?”
You grinned. “Yeah, thanks.” You popped the bottle open. “glad I could make it.”
Shotaro brought his own drink to his lips. “professor not treating you too badly, is he?”
“Just trying to prepare us for the real world,” you drawled. you took a sip. The drink was cold and sweet, just the way you liked it.
Shotaro nodded. “should i introduce you to Anton now, or would you rather me do it later?”
you shrugged. “We can get it out of the way. I know you have hosting duties to attend to.”
“it’s no trouble,” he said, “but if you insist, I can take you to him now. Follow me.”
You trailed behind him, briefly greeting some familiar faces as you passed them on the way to the mysterious stranger he was set on having you meet. There were strings of lights hanging overhead to keep out the darkness as the sun let the moon take its place in the sky. Laughter and chatter was a constant thing all around you, and something about the casualness of it all put you at ease.
Beneath a particularly bright set of lights, Sohee was talking to a tall, lean specimen of a man who you could only assume was the Anton Shotaro had spoken so highly of. He was golden beneath the yellow hue of the lights, sporting a shirt that was tight around his chest and arms. When his eyes lowered to yours, brown and probing, you felt like all your secrets had been laid bare for all the world to see.
“Hey, Anton. this is the music prod major i was talking to you about,” Shotaro said. He turned to you and said your name. “This is Anton.”
Anton smiled, and for a second you felt like you could breathe again, before the perfect curve of his lips stole your breath away too. “Nice to meet you. Shotaro says you love music.”
The smile found its way to your face on its own. “to say the least. he told me you do too.”
Anton nodded. “to say the least,” he echoed.
Shotaro threw a look, and the two slipped away.
You wracked your brain for something to say, because there was no way you were going to bore this perfectly handsome man to death. damn Shotaro for not mentioning that Anton was breathtaking. “so, where does all of that love come from?” you asked, bringing the drink to your mouth for another sip.
“Well, my dad’s a producer, so I kind of grew up around music,” Anton explained.
Your eyes widened a little bit. “What, that’s neat. My dad was a rapper.”
“Really?” Anton asked. His eyes hadn’t left yours since he set sight on you. It was making you nervous. “Do you rap too?”
You laughed and shook your head. “oh, no, no. no. I prefer to work behind the scenes. Seeing everything work together to come together and paint one big picture, and tell one beautiful story, that’s what I like. and making music in and of itself is a really collaborative process, so it makes me remember how important it is to have other people around in my life, you know?” you sound so stupid, it’s crazy, you thought to yourself.
Anton's smile seemed to widen. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “Maybe we should work together sometime.”
“Really?”
“Shotaro tells me you’re really good, and Wonbin said so as well.”
You scoffed. “They're just being nice. Most of the time I'm just doing shit and I hate it. all i do is abuse synths and delay.”
Anton chuckled. He tapped a ring-adorned finger against his lips, which naturally drew your attention there, and it dawned on you just how long they were. His hand was huge, just like the rest of him. “i get that.”
Your eyes darted away, here and there, there and here. “it’s always nice to talk to someone who does. i have friends that still ask about my music even though they don’t know anything about it, because they’re not dickheads, so i’ll bring up percs and they’ll think i’m talking about percocets.”
Anton closed his eyes and laughed. “Well, you know, it’s almost been ten years since 2017. mask off.”
You sighed. “Don't remind me. I swear last year was just 2019. 2019 was seven years ago.”
“That doesn’t sound right at all,” Anton said.
“At all!” you agreed.
And for another half hour, it was just you and Anton beneath the silver stars and golden fairy lights. You even followed each other on instagram, which made you realize how many followers he had.
"How'd it go?” Shotaro asked when you were alone again.
“better than I thought,” you said. “he’s cool, like you said.”
Shotaro was beaming. he nudged your side playfully. “You're welcome.”
There were suspicions boiling underneath that you hadn’t let surface yet. "Is that what this is about?” you asked, crossing your arms. “you’re trying to play cupid?”
Shotaro was coy. “I don't know what you mean. I was just helping two friends meet people they might enjoy the company of. What happens from there on out is out of my hands…”
“Right,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get a finger or two involved.”
Shotaro laughed and dismissed himself, claiming he needed to check on his other guests.
Two days later, Anton had posted a picture of a very tiny cupcake with his hand beside it. He tagged Sohee in the post, but the only thing you could fix yourself to think about was how insanely large his hands were. His fingers were long and slender, a little pink around the knuckles, and his veins ran down the back of his hand beneath his skin like a green river.
You stared at the picture too long before coming to your senses and liking the post, ignoring the fact that you could feel yourself faintly throbbing as you thought about how deep his fingers could reach, and what they could make you feel.
Oh my god, you thought. I need to die.
just your luck, the day after that, you saw him again. Shotaro and Wonbin invited you out for lunch, which you thought was suspiciously abrupt, but then Wonbin mentioned Anton would be in attendance too, and everything made sense.
What made even more sense was that the two of them sat together, which forced you to sit beside Anton while you ate your dumplings.
Anton asked, “are they good?”
you nodded happily. “if only Eunseok were here.”
Wonbin laughed. “those two give each other a run for their money.”
“thank god Sungchan is busy,” you said. “he plays entirely too much. I don't need him trying to steal my shit.”
Shotaro finished chewing. “He had class with Sohee, right?” he asked. He turned to Anton. “Speaking of Sohee, what were you guys doing when you decided to post a thirst trap?”
Anton smiled timidly and looked away. “I wasn't thirst-trapping.”
“You were definitely thirsttrapping,” Wonbin teased.
Anton threw his head back, and for a second you swore he glanced your way, then his eyes darted around again. “Let me explain. There were two boxes of cupcakes, the small ones and the big ones, and Sohee and I competed for the big one, but he won.”
Wonbin snickered. “Did you let him win?”
Anton shook his head. “Of course not.” but even as he said that, everyone knew he was lying.
As you were leaving, the bill paid and your goodbyes bid, Anton stopped you on the way to your car. “Hey. I have some beats you might like. You could always come check them out.”
Oh, he was serious about that, you thought, somewhat surprised. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you told him, grinning a little too hard. “when were you thinking?”
“I’m free this weekend,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Okay, I'll check my schedule,” you said. “I'll DM you?”
Anton nodded. “great. let me walk you to your car.”
And he did. He followed you across the parking lot and opened the door for you, ever the gentleman. “and they say chivalry is dead,” you said.
Anton chuckled. “get home safe.” When the door closed after you, he walked away.
That weekend, you were not free, but you rid yourself of all obligations solely so that you could be alone with him. It was far from your proudest moment, but some things were more important.
Anton texted you the address of his family home, and when you arrived, led you down the studio he had. “this is where i raised,” he said lightheartedly.
You glanced around. It was a very lovely, cozy studio. “ah, yes. Who needs a village when you have a computer, microphones, and monitors?”
Anton chuckled. “speaking of which…” he trailed off, guiding you over to the computer.
The first few minutes were spent listening to some beats he wanted you to hear, and you were appreciative of what you were listening to. The third one he played spoke to you for some reason, though he had meant to click on another, and you blurted, “wait, let this one play through.”
Anton obliged, watching you listen, bobbing your head along. After a moment, he asked, “do you like this one?”
“Yeah,” you said, your brain already bulging with ideas. “I want to add a bass though. I have an idea.”
Anton nodded over to the bass guitar hanging in the corner of the room. “i play bass.”
That was when things started getting serious. He went to grab the bass, and you shared your thoughts, making sounds that he would emulate. For a moment you watched his fingers as he played, but there were other things on your mind, and you had to get those ideas out before they escaped you indefinitely.
“That’s fire,” you ended up saying. “I want to add a synth over it.”
Anton showed you some plugins he had. “you’ll want to check this out.”
A couple of hours went by, but when you were in your zone, you hardly paid attention to how much time was passing. By now you were tweaking the project to add percs, delay, and ultimately settled on layering stacked chords over the drums.
When you and Anton let the track play, both of you were impressed with yourselves. “you’re a genius,” he said softly.
you shook your head. “teamwork makes the dream work.”
Anton seemed to agree. “I didn't want to say this earlier, because I didn't want to disrupt the flow,” he started, “but you smell really good.”
your face felt hot. “Thank you.”
for a moment after that, it was silent.
Then, Anton asked in a whisper, “Can I kiss you?”
That was the moment you realized you weren’t deluding yourself about him being into you. His eyes were on you—piercing and unrelenting—and shortly after, his lips were too.
It was a tentative kiss at first. Anton was merely testing the waters, feeling you react against him, and his confidence grew as he went on, his lips still tender, but his movements more assured.
you let it happen. Your heart was speeding out of your chest and your body felt light as a cloud. It was a pleasant sensation, one you found you didn’t want to go away now or ever.
What caught you by surprise was how Anton took the lead in the matter. He pressed you against the wall. as the seconds ticked by, his kisses grew more passionate, and you fought to keep up as he kissed you with abandon. his lips parted from yours to journey down your jaw and neck, a moment of respite so that you both could breathe, then he was on you again, and your fingers were threading through his hair.
“Anton,” you gasped, but the sound was swallowed whole.
“shit,” he groaned. His hands were gripping your hips.
you could feel him growing erect against your thigh and it made your head spin. that, and the fact that you were so close you had no choice but to inhale his scent as you tasted him on your tongue. your own body was pulsing with need, and you were restless in his arms. Your knees felt weak, like any moment you could go down, if not for him being there to hoist you upright.
he pulled away to whisper, “tell me you want it too.”
“i want it too,” you said, breathless.
That was all he needed to hear to lead you out of the studio, the song forgotten for now. It would be there when he was finished with you, but it would be a while until then. Anton took you to his bedroom and closed the door.
The room felt hot. your clothes felt like burdens. When Anton turned away from the door, he walked toward you, slowly. You took a step back for every step he took forward, feeling your heart jumping, until the back of your legs hit the bed. but he didn’t stop. not until you fell back and he fell over you, and his lips met yours again.
This time his hips moved against you unabashedly, little noises leaving him as he tried to soothe himself. You knew he felt the same burning that was tormenting you from the inside out. He sucked at your neck, leaving marks in the flesh there. Then he pulled away and said, “sit on my face. use my mouth.”
just those words made you dizzy. you unbuckled your jeans, and he pulled them off you in a hurry. when you reached for the band of your underwear, he stopped you, “keep this on.”
you nodded wordlessly. Words were fragile things. Anton lay down so you could mount on his face. as you settled over him, he started to lick at your pussy through your panties, his hands resting on your thighs.
you could feel his tongue through them. He wasn’t starting slow. There was none of the reluctance from before, every bit of it had been shed to make way for his new skin, and he went at it like he knew exactly what he was doing, or exactly how to figure it out.
“Anton,” you murmured. Your arousal was a fierce thing with a mind of its own, and it was taking control of your body and mind.
Anton squeezed your thighs, sucking at you as he kneaded your flesh, letting his hands roam freely rather than keep them in one place. your panties that were already damp with the evidence of your desire were becoming wetter as his saliva added to the moisture gathering there.
your breaths were shallow. you could only imagine what it would feel like when his lips came in contact with your bare skin, and the thought only made you more impatient.
Perhaps Anton could feel you getting restless, because after a moment, he slipped your panties to the side and tasted you without the fabric of your underwear getting in the way. you gasped out, “fuck.”
His mouth was so warm against your skin. He licked at your clit, one hand remaining clamped on your thigh while the other went to your stomach, and you couldn’t help but grind down against his face.
you tipped your head back. “like that.”
he kissed your folds and licked at your clit, none too aggressive, experimenting with the amount of pressure to get you moaning and rocking against his mouth. It was a soft, sweet act, and you could hear every taste, every suck, the wet sound of his lips pleasing you as you leaked more and more against his pretty lips.
his lips pressed against your inner thighs here and there for a fleeting moment, long enough to make you miss it, then he would return to sucking at your clit, making out with your pussy.
“just like that,” you whimpered. “don’t stop. please.”
your brain ceased to function and all you could think about was Anton. How good he was at this, how much you wanted him to keep going, how this could never be the last time. If you knew anything, it was that the memory of him eating you out would haunt you for days to come.
it was the fastest you had ever let anyone see you so intimately, but you couldn’t be bothered to trouble yourself with those thoughts. It felt right at the moment, and it felt even better now, and if every swipe of Anton's tongue kept the doubts and regrets at bay. You didn’t even have it in you to regret not shaving in advance, because it hadn’t deterred him at all.
Anton let his tongue slip inside and it felt like a bomb went off in your stomach as warmth exploded throughout you. “holy fuck,” you stammered. “holy fuck.”
he didn’t let up, exploring the inside of you with his tongue. You could feel his nose nudging against your clit and that it only stoked the flames of the fire ramping up within your core.
“i’m so close,” you whimpered, your hips grinding down against him. It was impossible for you to keep still.
Anton’s hand shot up, slipping underneath the shirt you hadn’t taken off, and his fingers swiped over your stomach once more before ultimately reaching your chest. he fondled your breasts, cupping them in his terribly large hands, brushing his thumbs over your stiff nipples. he caressed the skin at your ribs and returned to your breasts, catching your nipples gently between his fingers and rubbing them in a circle with his thumbs.
he kept one hand at your breasts while the other wandered down and went behind you to your lower back and your ass. His hands were soft against your skin, rubbing up and down in tender motions that made all the difference.
“yes,” you cried out. Your thighs trembled as your knees clamped around his head in an almost violent manner before you finally went still.
Anton gingerly pushed you off his face and lowered you onto his bed. His lips were glossy with your desire. “can i fuck you?” he asked.
you were still trying to catch your breath, but your answer was an immediate, “fuck, yes.”
Anton went to step out of his pants and shrug off his shirt, and you watched him, watched as he revealed his bare chest, the skin chiseled and defined. the sight alone nearly finished you again. You were throbbing, aching, even now, and you were so desperate to feel him inside you.
he watched you take your shirt off, revealing the tits he’d cupped to him, and you were almost equally naked, except he stepped out of his boxers, but made sure you kept your panties on. for whatever reason.
When he spread your legs and got between them, he didn’t immediately enter you like you thought he would. He rubbed his cock against the dark, wet part of your underwear, back and forth, feeling how drenched you were through your panties.
“fuck,” Anton groaned. you didn’t know if he was teasing you or testing himself.
you watched him. Maybe it was a good thing that he wasn’t diving headfirst. He was fully erect and you would be blind not to notice how big he was. You didn’t know how he was going to fit.
Anton slipped his cock underneath the edge of your panties and came out through the upper right corner of them, and you sucked in a gasp as you felt him brush against your clit. He slipped through your folds, coating his length in your slick that was only building the longer he kept tempting you. “you’re so wet,” he murmured. “for me?”
“yeah,” you said. “Anton, please…”
“please, what?”
your face was hot, but you were past the point of embarrassment. “please fuck me. I want to feel you inside me.”
“I want that too,” he said. “I want to feel your pussy around me, I want to hear how loud it gets for me when I'm inside you.”
oh my god. “Then what’s stopping you?” you grumbled.
“nothing,” he said, glancing up at you for a moment with a raised brow and a little smile on his face. “how bad do you want it?”
“You know how bad I want it,” you said. You reached down to grab him, twisting your hand around his dick.
“fuck…” Anton grunted. he fucked your fist while simultaneously rubbing himself against your cunt.
At last, he pushed your hand away, tapped his dick against your pussy a few times, and pushed himself inside you.
you gasped. He wasn't entirely sheathed yet, but it was enough to make you jolt. “oh my god.”
Anton raised a brow. “I'm barely inside you.” he chuckled and smoothed his finger over your hip. “Tell me when I can go deeper,” he said.
you nodded, willing yourself to relax. Even with how evidently aroused you were and your wetness leaking down your thighs, it wasn’t much easier. “Anton…”
“I know,” he whispered. He leaned in to kiss you, then met your eyes. “just breathe, okay?”
you nodded again. A few moments passed, but Anton didn’t rush you. He knew for most people he was… an adjustment. “Okay. deeper.”
Anton was relieved. He sank even deeper within you, a weak noise of his own escaping him. you whimpered the further he went inside, but you didn’t tell him to stop. He kissed you through it, hoping to distract you the best he could, but nothing could take your mind off the way his cock was thoroughly stretching you out.
“can i move?” he asked when he sheathed to the hilt.
“wait,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around him. “okay. yeah.”
“fuck,” Anton hissed. his eyes lowered, watching himself disappear in and out of your slippery cunt. “Is this what you've been wanting?”
“yes,” you stammered out.
Anton smiled. “I know it is.”
as he drove inside you, you could hear the wet smack of your bodies meeting, the joining of skin echoing on the walls. It made Anton crazy. “Do you hear that?” he asked.
you flushed at how loud the sound was. “yeah, i hear it…”
"Don't be shy,” he said, bringing his face to your neck. “that’s just how bad we want each other.”
it was unignorable, the sound, the wetness, the heat of your bodies pressed together. There was no denying the mutual desire.
you dragged your nails down his back. Anton groaned, the line between pain and pleasure narrow in his mind. “mark me…” he rasped.
you were convinced he was insane, but you were beginning to enjoy that about him.
“Look at me,” he said softly, grabbing your neck. The grip wasn’t tight, but it got your attention. Your eyes met his as you gasped and moaned beneath him, throbbing at hand around your throat, his cock reaching places you never even knew were there.
“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, staring into your eyes. “i wanted to fuck you like this since the very first night i saw you.”
“I wanted you too…” you confessed. The eye contact was too much, and you glanced away.
“no, beautiful,” he said, tilting your head back. He tightened his grip a little bit. “look at me.”
“Sorry,” you whispered.
Anton smiled. “you want to know what I thought about doing when Shotaro introduced you to me?”
your eyes flickered with curiosity. “what?”
Anton stopped and pulled out of you, but you didn’t have time to mourn, because seconds later, he told you to get on your hands and knees, and he entered you again from behind.
“oh, shit,” you moaned. it felt like he was even deeper than he was before.
Anton felt his mind reel. You were so tight and wet around him, it was all he could do not to come then and there. “Can I record you?” he asked very softly. “please? you look so pretty… I won't show anyone, I promise.”
it would be a lie if you said you didn’t like filming yourself in the act. “um, yeah…”
Anton grabbed his phone from the nightstand and pressed record soon after. He pressed you down against the mattress and pinned you there with one hand, your moans becoming muffled as your face got pushed into the sheets. but not for long. Anton adjusted your face to the side. “want to hear you,” he murmured. “i want to hear all the sounds you’re making for me.”
“Anton, please don’t stop,” you begged.
“wasn’t planning on it,” he grunted. “your pussy feels so good around me.” he smacked your ass, which made you cry out in surprise. “i knew you would feel so good. look how pretty you get for me.” he lowered the camera to wear your bodies met, your underwear drenched and pushed aside as his cock pounded you with a loud, sticky sound. he made sure to capture how messy it was down there.
you felt delirious, like you weren’t there in your own mind, but in some distant place where only the sensation of him hitting that sweet spot inside you could reach. you had no idea how badly you needed this until now, now that you couldn’t think about anything but this.
Anton felt himself beginning to grow bored of the position and pulled out again. He sat on the bed. “come here,” he said, pulling you up gingerly.
you crept over and he pulled you onto his lap.
“use my dick,” he murmured. “use me to make yourself cum.”
you did not need to be told twice. You settled on top of him and sank down, gripping his shoulders for purchase. The room smelled of sweat and sex, and a blend of the scents each of you used. But you were focused on how good it felt to be full of him. No one had ever stretched you the way he was.
Anton rested a hand on your hip, but he let you take the lead. he used the other hand to record you as you rocked your hips against his, no detail lost on him. he got the way you threw your hair back when it fell down your breasts, the way you tipped your head back and moaned his name, the way your lips hung open and your body shuddered.
he wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew that much. he didn’t want to intervene, not when you looked so pretty riding him so hard and taking what you wanted, but he also didn’t want to come first.
Anton reached to grab your throat. “goddamn, i’m not going anywhere,” he teased. “you look so good riding me like that, though. making yourself feel good.”
that sent a fire through your veins. The hand around your throat was like gasoline. “yes, yes, yes… Anton!” you cried out.
“Do you like that?” Anton tightened his grip. “You like my hands, don’t you?”
that sent you over the edge. You felt the warmth set off in the pit of your stomach and erupt to every corner of your body. your pussy clenched around him as you trembled with ecstasy. Anton grabbed your hip tightly to hold you through it. “that’s it, gorgeous,” he grunted. “i got you. i’m right here.”
“Anton,” you whimpered again.
“shh,” he said, running his hand up your back soothingly. the way your face tensed with pleasure as you came around him had him seconds away from boiling over. “That's it. You did so good for me.”
you went slack against him. Anton drove up into you, making you cling to his shoulders tightly as you took it. “fuck…”
“i’m gonna come,” Anton said. he set his phone so he could hold your hips with both hands. he looked up at you, his lips parted and his eyes damp. “please… please, pretty girl. let me come inside you. let me fill this pretty pussy up. Please, let me have this. i need it- oh, fuck… goddamn, i can’t hold back anymore, i’m gonna fuck you full.”
He sounded so good when he begged. “yes—” you gasped.
Anton swore as he spilled inside you, hands clamping down on your thighs. When you watched his face, it looked like he was resetting.
He took his time before he pulled out. When he did, he made sure to record his cum leaking from your dripping pussy, proof of how thoroughly he had wrecked you from within. “Goddamn,” he muttered. He slipped your panties back in place.
“They're ruined,” you whined.
Anton chuckled. “so… you won’t be needing them, is what I'm hearing?”
You smacked his chest. “you’re a pervert.”
“i’m a gentleman,” Anton said, smiling coyly. His face was tinged red. he gathered you in his arms and hoisted you in the arm. you yelped, reaching for his arms. “I'm going to clean up the mess I made. It's only fair.”
a/n; thank you for the many anons about anton ive expanded out of nct territory,, keep the asks comin
cw: cursingggg, reader likes em submissive🤣 she just like me, making out, mama as a pet name, smut — anton gets hard from kissing, p in v sex, him talking nasty asf, he kinda cries, very switch vibes from him
summary: having a boy best friend is so embarrassing
next ->
“you know i almost died last night, bro?”
absentmindedly tapping on his bowl of cereal, anton leaned forward against the counter of his kitchenette. his brows furrowed in confusion. “you what?”
“so, i was using the bathroom last night, right,”
“uh… huh.”
“and some random girl just walked in and flicked the light on.” you reached into anton’s fridge to get a bottle of water, “i thought you were getting robbed.”
anton almost choked on his cereal, “oh no, i’m sorry. i think i actually heard you both yell.”
“yeah, you need to fuckin’ warn me, man. don’t let me stay over and then have girls over. i got cussed out.”
anton tried to stifle his laugh — to absolutely no avail.
all you wanted to do was quietly use the bathroom and you decided to leave the light off to like… save energy. only to end up being scared out of your skin by one of anton’s late night companions.
“god, what the hell!” the girl jumped backwards, almost hitting her head on the doorframe as you reached to cover yourself. “who are you??”
you raised a brow. you knew who she could have been, but—
“girl, who are you?” you countered.
you knew damn well you should have kept your mouth shut, because you got called the fuck out. ‘well, anton didn’t say he had a girlfriend, are you his girlfriend? did i just wreck a home?’ uh.. no. ‘how come you weren’t here when we got back but you’re here now?’ uhh… ‘if you’re not his girl, and he has no roommates, why are you here in the middle of the night?’ … — deep down you knew you were the problem here.
unlike anton, you weren’t lucky enough to have parents who would pay for you to live in a nice little apartment for the entirety of college, so you lived with your two roommates; one of which was at the height of a lover’s quarrel with her partner. things had gotten so bad between them that the morning of this incident — or rather the morning before — seeing as it happened at around 2am, anton kindly agreed to let you come back to his place after you finished work, and spend the weekend there. and so, you weren’t there when anton and this poor girl got back to his apartment, because your shift ended about an hour after they had knocked each other out. you poor soul.
“why would you say that?” anton laughed at you, “you don’t live here.”
like you didn’t know that… asshole. you flopped down in one of the dining chairs, attempting to flip your half drank water bottle, at his kitchen table. and failing. “i just couldn’t stop myself from giving attitude. because, why are you trying to talk to me and i’m on the toilet… i needed her gone out the room.”
“well. she’s never gonna text me now.”
“no?” you rose a brow at him, “well, would you have responded?”
anton was notorious (within your two person friendship) for losing the numbers of girls that he slept with. that or somehow indirectly manifesting for them to lose his number, so he had no choice but to move on to the next. he didn’t see this as sleazy, fuckboy activity, however. he was simply just moving forwards through life. so in response to your question? anton just smiled back at you from where he was stood in the kitchenette. he didn’t know the answer. not for sure at least.
“you know she thought we were dating. she was so mad at you.”
his eyebrows shot up, “well, did you defend me?”
“i said i would never date you, and that i was visiting because of the thing with my roommate.” in a display of nonchalance, you pressed down on your baby hairs and just looked on at him.
“wow,” anton pushed up off the counter and took his bowl to the sink. “that’s sweet of you.”
“y’know.” you waited for him to turn back and face you. “if i was one of these girls, i would hate the both of us.”
“why?”
you looked towards the ceiling, as if to try and find the words to say. “well, i feel like i’m always here— like at your place. and we know almost everything about each other, i got a key to your house; we’re just, like, a little too close.”
“first of all, you’re not here enough—”
you shot him a glare and he threw his hands up in defence. “anton, do you not see the problem with that statement?”
anton pursed his lips in supposedly deep thought. “damn. i think you’ve been cockblocking me.”
the way your brain short-circuited hearing him say that— usually it was you cursing. never him. “you’ve been cockblocking yourself, toni.”
“no, but i’m being serious. the girl i brought home was not the first girl i talked to that night. that usually doesn’t happen.” anton came to sit by you at the table, putting a chair right next to yours but turning it the opposite direction so he could be facing you. subconsciously, you rest your feet on his thighs causing him to catch your ankles in his hands as you tried not to roll your eyes at possibly the most sleazy, frat boy coded statement you had ever heard.
“do you actually hear yourself sometimes? this is not the sweet toni i grew up with. you’re something else.”
“god, you’re right.” he laughed out. “i think all the attention is getting to my head.”
you leaned forward towards him, “oh, you think so?”
anton pushed your shoulder gently, “leave me alone, i’m coming to terms with it, i’m—” he struggled to find the word, “i’m self-reflecting.”
and then he paused. “does our friendship get you any less romantic attention?”
“hmm.” you had to think about it. though anton claims not to be a fuckboy intentionally — or what you liked to call a ‘self-proclaimed pussy magnet’ — you knew yourself that you weren’t as… sexually outgoing (?) as anton. “no less than i had before, i guess. people that know you, know about our weird little friendship and then; you poor thing, you have to talk to two girls before you can get laid. but the people that know just me don’t necessarily know about our weird little friendship.”
“huh.”
“‘cause i’m not trying to be like one of those girls that tells everyone about, ‘my homeboy this, my homeboy that’ and then everyone assumes we’re fucking and i cant even defend myself.”
anton tried to ignore his face warming up, “no, yeah. hah, is that really a thing?” a thought was definitely being formed.
“yes, bro, even i cringe at it. i don’t wanna be that girl.”
“wait so, some of these guys, these friends, are actually like, sleeping with each other?” anton scratched the back of his neck, that was prickling with nerves.
“i mean, yeah, probably. the way they act.” you just laughed obliviously while anton’s mind started to fill up with ideas. like, say, if you were the kind of person who talked to others about your friendship with anton. would people think you’re so close that you might as well just.. be with each other? would people accuse you of sleeping together or dating even if you weren’t?
“yo, imagine if that was us…”
your head jolted in his direction and pure confusion painted your features in an incredulous expression, “anton, can you not… oh my god.”
his head dropped in laughter. as well as defeat.
but you missed that, so you continued. “no, that would be horrible. why would you even put that in my head?”
“so, i’m actually right here.” anton waved his hand at you and you laughed.
“no, no,” rushing to defend yourself, “not in a mean way, i just. i wouldn’t like the attention from people and, yeah, no. i don’t know.”
“yeah, okay. i get that.”
“why do you ask anyway? what would you think if it was us?” you prodded back. you would never let him ask such a stressful question without getting him back. you needed to get even.
“oh.” anton was starting to think he should have never tried it with you. however. you getting that nervous from his initial asking the question gave him a slither of confidence. “i mean. i think that it would be interesting. it’d be kinda cool to see if we could get to know each other any more than we already do.”
“in what sense?”
“like sex stuff.” anton’s voice was soft and quiet. “like what you’re into, stuff like that.”
“wouldn’t you like to know, chanyoung.”
he smiled at you, squinting in acknowledgement of your teasing “i would. tell me something.”
you gave it some thought before replying, “are you serious?”
he replied, “are you?”
you weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but you took at as a case of ‘i am if you are, and if you’re not, neither am i.’
“okay, anton. it’s 9 in the morning, but sure uh.. i like a submissive man.”
the tips of anton’s ears grew hot. “oh, wow. tell me more.”
you laughed in his face. because no way these are the lines he uses when he’s picking up girls every other night. this was going to be the most embarrassing conversation you had ever had. like, ever. you crossed your legs over each other, still over anton’s thighs.
“there’s nothing more to that statement really. your turn.”
“i like… kissing. but not just normal kissing like.. kissing.” he dragged the word out a little, really putting umph on it like you were gonna know exactly what he was talking about. you were so annoyed.
“be so for real for a second.”
“what?!”
you sighed. “no, cause i really got a lot from that, thank you. now, i wish i’d kept quiet.”
“what, no! i’m just bad at explaining things.” you tried to retract your legs from anton’s and he grabbed your calf in attempts to stop you from curling in on yourself out of pure embarrassment.
you covered your face. “yeah, really bad.”
“listen, i could show you better than i can tell you.”
“i bet you could, toni, but that’s not gonna turn back time.” you immediately shot him down. before you realised. “wait okay, you can show me.”
“oh, i didn’t think you’d agree. i thought the idea of getting intimate with me was horrible?”
“i mean that’s if people are aware of it and like… try to talk to me about it at school. right now, nobody knows. so i guess it’s less horrible.”
“alright, c’mere.” anton held out his hand for you to lean into, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. gently pecking your lips a couple times before ghosting the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for permission. he ran the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip before pulling away just slightly to whisper, “can you open up a little?”
you furrowed your brows up at him and he took that as confusion, laughing a little “i wanna put my tongue there.”
you parted your lips a little and he kissed you with tongue, making the both of you sigh quietly. with each movement of his jaw and of his lips against yours, his tongue made contact with yours and it triggered a build of warmth in your lower abdomen. each time his tongue licked into your mouth, it pulled a whine out of the back of your throat. your hands rose up into his hair and your breathing started to quicken. at this point, even though you were feeling significantly warmer than you did a few seconds ago, you still didn’t realise what made this any different from ‘regular’ kissing. you figured anton was just being dramatic. that was until he sucked your tongue into his mouth along with your bottom lip. this made you straight up moan — you had to pull away.
“holy shit, anton.”
anton wiped the saliva off of his plush lips with his thumb. “see it’s like kissing but it’s kissing.”
“what the hell.” you huffed out in a deep exhale, twisting a curl around one of your fingers. you didn’t even know what to do with yourself after that.
anton tried to stop his eyes from dropping down to your heaving chest in the tight baby tee you were wearing as pajamas. he wanted to remain composed after putting the moves on you; maintain his shy, yet simultaneously confident demeanour. and then he remembered what you mentioned earlier. anton softened his voice ever so slightly. —if that was even possible.
“you know, you’re a really good kisser.” he held eye contact with you and the delivery of his sentence immediately made you wet.
“um, thank you.”
anton leaned closer to you, keeping his voice hushed despite the fact that you were the only two people in the apartment. “i didn’t expect it to, but kissing you made me really hard.”
“shit, really?” you were overwhelmed. you had just been kissed breathless by your best friend and now he was laying his truths all out on the table.
“i know you feel a type of way about it, but… i wanna fuck you."
“anton…”
“please,” you felt his thumbs rub you from both sides of your hips that he was now holding in his hands. he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth that made your eyes flutter closed. “i know it would feel so good.”
“toni, when you ask me like that—“
“you like that?” anton practically purred before attaching his soft lips to the curve of your neck. his hand slid down the front of your pajama pants to start rubbing you over your panties at a torturingly slow pace. “when i beg you like that? i know you do, you’re soaked.”
“fuck, toni…” you grabbed onto his shoulder for balance, lifting one of your knees higher to grant him a better angle at rubbing those tight circles over your bundle of nerves.
“hey, look at me.” he rubbed your clit faster, “can i make you cum before i fuck this pussy? huh? please?”
you could only lean back and moan in response.
“come on you gotta tell me. can i please?”
“mm-hm. yes, yes, baby.”
you dug your nails into his bicep and he groaned. “can i get i kiss, too?”
in a low whine, you pressed your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as you started getting closer to orgasm.
“yeah, moan for me just like that, baby. that’s so fucking hot. you gonna cum for me?”
you nodded at him and he continued with the same relentless pace of his fingers against your clothed clit until your hips started to shake with your orgasm.
“fuck, you’re so sexy when you cum for me. you gonna let me fuck you, mama?”
you were breathless in shock. in all your years of being friends with this anton, he had never talked so nasty.
anton swiftly lifted you onto the table and yanked your pajama pants down with your panties. with big, soft hands, he kneaded your thighs, “you’re dripping in front of me.”
“well, i just came.”
this made anton laugh, “well, i’m gonna make you cum again. ‘kay?”
you nodded as he pulled his dick out of his basketball shorts and started to jerk himself off, rubbing his tip against your slit. you went to hold onto his back with one hand and he took this as a sign that you were ready for him. pushing into you slowly, he muffled his own moan against your lips.
somehow, after only just put his dick in you, he was already a mess. “mmh, fuck you feel good. you feel so good around me.”
anton’s arms wrapped under your thighs, and started bringing your hips to meet his faster.
“fuck, toni, right there!”
he moaned into a sloppy kiss to your lips, “mm, right there? ‘m i hitting it right?”
“yes, keep going. you’re doing so good..”
anton didn’t change his position, only moving one of his hands to start rubbing your clit again. “fuck, keep talking to me like that.”
you held his neck to pull him closer to you, “you’re so good. and you look so pretty when you’re fucking me.”
all of your praise was going straight to anton’s dick. he was visibly finding it increasingly harder to keep himself together. he leaned forward to get closer to you, grinding his hips into yours. peppering kisses all over your bare chest.
“ah- uhm, i wanna cum. wanna cum for you.” anton’s voice was barely above a whisper as he rambled against your chest, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth to mumble his pathetic sounds. although, to no avail, he was still mumbling to you, teeth grazing the skin.
“you can cum toni, i’m close too.”
“you gotta cum first, baby,” what a gentleman. “if you cum first that’s gonna make me c-cum.” anton whined flicking his tongue against one of your nipples as if to punctuate, “ugh, please.”
maybe about 30 more seconds of anton’s desperate whimpering pushed you over the edge. and you didn’t want to dwell to much on why this was, but it was surely one of the most pleasurable orgasms you had ever had. and the irregular clenching of your pussy around his dick was completely it for him. he pulled out of you cautiously and instead of jerking himself to completion all over your naked body, he was reduced to grinding against your wet pussy, panting and sighing until his own orgasm washed over him.
“shit, anton are you crying?” you cradled his face, wiping away a stray tear with your thumb. he couldn’t even reply — he was inside of you, but you fucked the shit out of him.
“i’m a fuckin’ mess. i think we might have some built up tension or something.” anton got up from where he was leant against your chest. he pulled his shorts up and flopped down into a dining chair, dropping his head down onto one of your thighs where your legs were hanging off the table.
you shifted from your position of sitting up on your elbows to laying your back flat on the kitchen table. “don’t even say that.”
“okay.”
the two of you sat in your silence. it was comfortable silence for you, you hoped it was for him too.
without moving from where he was laid on your thigh, anton’s hand tapped against your leg to grab your attention. “so was that horrible for you, or?”
.ᐟwarnings/tags: nerd/weeb!anton, dom!anton, shy!anton, he is a nervous mess, fluff, praising, dirty talk, making out, anton is a bit subby at first but turns into a dom, size kink?, grinding, fingering, unprotected sex, spanking, p in v, bulge kink, squirting, cum eating, aftercare
𓏸⠀ 𓈒 you fall for anton, the quiet nerd who looks at you like you’re his whole world—and shows you exactly what that means behind closed doors.
.ᐟwc: 11.5k
You weren’t proud of it. The way your eyes always found him the second you walked into class, the way your heart sped up at the mere sight of those glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, how you kept catching yourself doodling his name in your notes like some middle school girl with a first crush. Lee Anton.
He was handsome, almost unfairly so. Tall and broad-shouldered, with soft brown eyes that flicked nervously around the room when someone tried to talk to him, and the most angelic face. His dark hair always looked a little too perfect, like he’d just rolled out of bed and still managed to look better than everyone else. And then there was the way he dressed, plain hoodies, oversized sweaters, jeans that hung low on his hips like he didn’t even care, like he had no idea what he looked like. Which made it worse.
Because Anton was also…a nerd. A real, honest-to-god, anime watching, figurine collecting, jerking off to hentai nerd. You knew this because you’d seen the way he decorated his laptop with holographic stickers of anime girls, the kind with thigh-highs and jiggly boobs and sparkly eyes. His phone lock screen? Ahri from League of Legends. His bag? Covered in pins of little anime mascots and game logos. You’d heard the rumors too, that his dorm was basically a shrine to 2D girls. Shelves of figures, walls lined with posters, LED lights glowing purple like a teenage boy’s wet dream. And yet none of it made you like him less. If anything, it made your crush worse.
Maybe it was because he was so quiet. Always sitting in the back, earbuds in, sketching something in his notebook or scrolling on his phone, head ducked down behind the collar of his hoodie like he didn’t want to be perceived. And yet you always perceived him. You noticed him. The way he adjusted his glasses when he was concentrating. The way his fingers tapped against his thigh when he was bored. The way he blushed when the professor called on him, even though he always gave the smartest answers in the room. You’d never spoken to him. Not once. But that didn’t stop you from wondering what his voice would sound like if he said your name.
It wasn’t just a little crush anymore. It was a full-blown obsession. The kind that made your stomach flip whenever you spotted him walking down the hallway, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, headphones around his neck, backpack hanging low on those broad ass shoulders. God. He was so tall. Every time he stood up, you felt like the air shifted around him. Like he didn’t even realize how dreamy he looked, towering over everyone, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose while he blinked all soft and sleepy. It was so unfair. He looked like he belonged in an anime himself—tall, quiet, hot nerd that girls fight over. Except no one else seemed to be crushing on him. At least not the way you were. And that made it worse.
Because you were crushing hard. Pathetically hard. You thought about him too much, not just during class, but when you were alone in your bed at night, staring at the ceiling and wondering what kind of porn he watched. You probably knew the answer was anime girls with squeaky voices and thigh socks, and honestly? That only made him hotter. You loved that he was a nerd. You loved that he probably spent his Friday nights watching One Piece recaps or arguing on valorant with noobs. You loved that his fingers looked big and awkward when he fidgeted with the pins on his bag, those same fingers you thought about every time your thoughts drifted somewhere a little too dirty.
He was just so fucking cute. Too hot. And maybe it was bad, maybe you were going to hell or something, but there were moments where you looked at him and just thought ‘I want to bounce on your dick so bad it’s embarrassing’. And then you’d get flustered all over again. Heart pounding, thighs pressing together, face buried in your sleeve so no one could see how red you’d gotten. He’d just be sitting there, minding his business, adjusting his glasses with the tip of his finger, and you’d be staring at him like he was some kind of god. He had no idea. Absolutely no clue that you were slowly losing your mind over him from across the room.
You barely register what the professor is saying until you hear the words: “Partner project. Two people per group. If you don’t pick someone, I’ll assign you.” Your stomach sinks. You didn’t know anyone in this class, not well enough to pair up without looking like a weirdo, anyway. You shift nervously in your seat, clutching your pen like it’ll save you. You can already feel your cheeks heating up just from the pressure. “Alright, you and…Anton,” the professor says, glancing briefly between the two of you before moving on. “You’ll work together. Should be a good match.” You freeze. Your eyes flick behind you, and sure enough, there he is. Anton.
He’s blinking at you with wide eyes, clearly just as surprised as you are. His glasses are slightly crooked, lips parted like he wants to say something but can’t quite get there. You feel your heart stutter in your chest. This is real. You’re going to talk to him. Work with him. Be around him. Alone. You turn in your seat slowly, like any sudden movement might shatter the moment. “H-Hi,” you manage, voice soft and squeaky. “I guess we’re partners.” Anton sits up a little straighter, and you swear you see his fingers twitch on the edge of his desk. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. I guess we are.” He rubs the back of his neck, then smiles, small, nervous. “Hi.”
Up close, he’s even more handsome. Long lashes, flushed cheeks, that faint scent of clean laundry and something warm and boyish. He’s wearing a plain gray hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, and you have to fight the urge to stare at the veins in his hands. “I’m, um…” You tuck your hair behind your ear, trying not to melt. “I’m Y/N.”“I know,” he says quickly, too quickly. Then he winces. “I mean—not in, like, a creepy way. I’ve just…heard you answer a few questions in class before. You’re smart.” Your mouth goes dry. He knows who you are? You blink. “Oh. Wow. Thanks. That’s… really sweet.” You shift in your seat, fingers nervously playing with the hem of your sleeve. “You’re smart too. Like, really smart. Your notes are insane.”
He laughs under his breath and ducks his head, and you can barely hear him murmur,“That’s ‘cause I don’t talk to anyone. I have to overcompensate somehow…” You giggle quietly, shyly. He glances up at you again. And that’s when it happens. That flicker. That look. His eyes settle on your face, your lips, your eyes, just a little longer than normal. He swallows hard. “Sorry, I just…didn’t expect to be partnered with someone like…you.” You tilt your head. “Like me?” He hesitates. “You’re just…you’re really pretty.” Oh. Your brain short circuits.
“I—” You practically squeak. “You think I’m pretty?” He immediately looks away, ears turning red. “Was that weird? That was weird. I’m sorry.” “No!” you blurt, too fast, clutching your notebook to your chest. “No, it wasn’t. I…I think you’re…really cute too.” He stares. You stare. There’s a beat of silence where neither of you knows what to do. You’re both blushing, both shy, both clearly freaking out a little on the inside. “So,” he finally says, voice a little higher than before, “uh…where’d you wanna meet?”
You show up to the little café fifteen minutes early, heart racing and dress just a little shorter than it probably should be for a study session. But you’d spent so long picking it out. It hugged your waist and flared out right at your thighs, showing just enough skin to make you feel cute without trying too hard. When Anton walks in, you swear he almost drops his phone. He freezes in the doorway for half a second, blinking like he’s not sure he’s in the right place. Then his eyes land on you, and you see him double take. His gaze flicks down your body and then quickly jerks away, like he’s trying not to look. He shuffles over, clutching his backpack in front of him like a shield, and offers you a shy little smile as he sits down across from you. “H-Hey. You look…really nice.”
You blush instantly. “Thanks. You too.” You both stare at the table for a second. It’s a cozy café, low lighting, indie music playing softly, warm smells of coffee and pastries filling the air. You open your laptop with trembling fingers, trying to seem normal, like this is just a regular study session and not the hottest guy you’ve ever seen sitting right across from you. You pull up the project doc and smile nervously. “Okay, so…I was thinking we could start with the outline first? Just, like, divide the sections and go from there.” You glance up to see if he’s following, but he’s not.
Anton’s eyes are very much not on the screen. They’re a little lower. Right at your chest. You freeze. So does he. And then, like a switch flipped, his entire face erupts in red. “I—” He stammers, scrambling to sit up straighter and look anywhere else. “Sorry! I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—I just zoned out—”Your cheeks burn. You look down at your dress and then quickly cross your arms over your chest, suddenly very aware of how low-cut it actually is when you’re leaning forward. You clear your throat, voice tiny. “…It’s okay.” He still looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die.
His hand comes up to adjust his glasses, but he’s shaking so hard he nearly knocks them off his face. You try to pretend you’re not just as flustered. You tuck your hair behind your ear and murmur softly, “So…should I repeat the question?” His eyes flick up to yours, hesitant. Then he gives the smallest, most adorable nod. You swallow, voice even softer now. “I said…should we start with the outline?” He nods again, still flushed, but smiling this time, a shy, crooked smile that makes your heart flutter. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” You try to focus. You really do. But his hand is brushing against his notebook, and his knees are so long they almost bump yours under the table. And every few minutes, you catch him sneaking glances at you like he can’t help it. And you don’t blame him. You kind of want him to.
You’re halfway through outlining the second section of the project when Anton suddenly stands up. “I’m, uh—I’m gonna get something. Do you want anything?”You glance up, smiling sweetly. “Mm…maybe a milkshake? If they have one?” He nods, “Milkshake. Got it.” He hurries off like he needs the walk to breathe, and honestly, he probably does. You watch him go with a soft little smile, noticing the way his hoodie sways as he moves, the curve of his back, the way he ducks his head at the counter, shy even with the barista. When he returns, he’s carrying a milkshake in one hand and a warm latte in the other, balancing it all carefully on a tray. He sets it down gently in front of you, then passes you the cold drink with a soft, slightly nervous look. “Here you go.” Your smile widens. “Thank you, Anton.”
You don’t notice the way his throat bobs when you wrap your lips around the straw. He freezes, barely blinking as he watches you take that first long sip, lips pursed around the plastic, cheeks hollowing slightly. You let out a soft little hum of approval at the taste, eyes fluttering shut for a second in pure satisfaction. And Anton…Anton is dying. His brain short-circuits. All he can see is your lips, pink, wet, soft, wrapped around something that isn’t a straw. And for a second, he’s imagining you on your knees between his legs, looking up at him with that same innocent expression as you suck him off like you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him.
You pull the straw from your mouth and swipe your tongue across the tip to catch the foam. A tiny bit of it clings to the corner of your lips. You giggle quietly. “Oops.” And then, as if you don’t already have him on the brink of death, you lick it off with a slow, casual flick of your tongue. He nearly chokes on his own spit. “Is everything okay?” Your voice is gentle, head tilted with that same soft concern you’ve had since class. You blink at him sweetly, sipping again like nothing happened. He’s flushed deep red. His hands are gripping his cup like it might ground him to reality. He forces a smile, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Uh. Y-Yeah. All good.” Then, quieter, with a softer smile. “Just… distracted.” You giggle again, eyes sparkling. “You sure?” He swallows hard. “Very sure.” But he can’t stop looking at your lips.
You take another slow sip of the milkshake, eyes flicking back to the laptop screen. Anton’s leaned in now, typing something into the shared document, brows furrowed in concentration, completely unaware of what he’s doing to you just by existing. Your gaze drifts. It always does. The sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up, revealing his forearms, all lean muscle and light veins, the skin pale and soft looking. Your eyes trail downward, to his hands on the keyboard, long fingers flying over the keys quickly. His hands are big. You hadn’t noticed it before. Or maybe you had, and your brain had just stored it away for later.
Now it was all you could think about. Those fingers. Those veins. The way his knuckles flex with every tap. You imagine them wrapped around your throat, firm but careful, his breath stuttering while he watches your eyes roll back. Or worse—better—you picture them inside you, slow and deep, your thighs trembling as he curls them just right, testing what makes you whimper. The idea makes you shift in your seat, thighs instinctively pressing together beneath the table. You blink and glance up at his face. God.
Even his profile is hot. His jaw is sharp, lips a little parted, the tip of his tongue just barely peeking out as he concentrates. His Adam’s apple bobs slightly when he swallows, and it makes something tighten in your gut. His hair is messy and soft, curling a little behind his ears, and all you can think about is how it would feel to tug on it while he’s between your legs. You press your thighs together again, harder this time. And he has no idea.
He’s just typing, all innocent and focused, while your mind is playing out filthy scenes in 4K. You look back down at his hands again, biting your lip without realizing it. His fingers twitch slightly as he types a number into the doc, the tendons in his hand flexing.
You whisper to yourself inside your head, ‘I want those fingers in me so bad’. And just like that, you realize you’re no better than him. Maybe you look sweet, sipping your milkshake in your little dress and smiling all shyly, but deep down? You’re starving for him.
You want him to ruin you with those hands, want to ride his thigh, want to hear what he sounds like when he moans. You glance up again. He’s blushing faintly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You wonder if he’s thinking something dirty too, if maybe both of you are pretending to be normal while your thoughts are a mess. God, you hope so.
The project was technically done. Or at least, enough of it was done to call it a night. You both packed up slowly, lingering over every click of the laptop, every sip of your drinks, drawing it out like neither of you wanted to leave. The café was dimmer now, a few tables empty, the music quieter. When you finally stepped outside, the air was warm and gentle, the sky a dusky blue stretching wide. You walked side by side down the path toward the dorm buildings, your shoulder bag bouncing lightly against your hip, Anton’s long strides matching yours.
And yet neither of you spoke. There were little things, small glances, quiet smiles, an occasional “mm” when one of you pointed out something with a nod. But for the most part, the silence between you was soft. Comfortable. Tense in all the right ways. And then your hands almost touched. You both noticed it at the same time, that inch of space between his knuckles and yours. He was walking close, so close, his fingers slightly curled inward, yours swinging just a little too far to the left. When your pinkies brushed, you felt it like static. He flinched. So did you.
And when you both glanced at each other, eyes wide and startled, it was like being caught doing something scandalous. His cheeks were red. He laughed nervously under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he didn’t know what to do with himself. You ducked your head, smiling softly. By the time you reached your building, your heart was fluttering like crazy. You stopped at the bottom of the steps, turning to face him.
He looked even taller under the glow of the porch light. His hoodie was a little rumpled, hair tousled, glasses slipping down just slightly. He looked so effortlessly handsome and completely flustered, like he couldn’t believe he’d just spent two hours alone with you and somehow survived it. You swallowed, clutching your bag a little tighter. “…Thank you,” you said softly. His brows furrowed, confused but gentle. “For what?” You smiled shyly. “The milkshake.” Anton blinked. And then smiled, this soft, melted kind of smile, like you’d just said the sweetest thing in the world. “Oh. Yeah. Anytime.”
You hesitated for a second. And then, before you could overthink it, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. His body froze. Completely still. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his arms hung awkwardly at his sides like he didn’t know what to do. But then, after a second, he slowly brought them up and wrapped them around your waist gently, almost nervously, like he was scared he’d hurt you if he squeezed too tight.
His face was buried half in your hair, half in your shoulder, and you felt the shaky breath he let out. You pulled back just a little, just enough to meet his eyes. Both of you were red. Both of you smiling, small, breathless, bashful smiles. “…Goodnight, Anton.” He blinked like he was waking up from a dream.“G-Goodnight.” You turned and walked into the dorm building, heart pounding, fingers still tingling from the ghost of his touch. And behind you, Anton stood frozen in place for a good thirty seconds, like his brain had fully shut down.
You spot him as soon as you walk into the lecture hall. Anton, sitting alone near the middle, headphones on, bobbing his head faintly to whatever song he’s listening to. His laptop is open in front of him, but from the way his fingers tap lightly against the keyboard, you doubt he’s doing anything academic. Your stomach does that little nervous flip again. You stand there for a moment, working up the courage, then step forward and gently tap his shoulder.
He turns, pulling one side of his headphones down, and when he sees you, there’s this flicker of surprise followed by a quick flush of pink across his cheeks. “H-Hey…” he says, voice softer than you expected. You smile shyly. “Hey, Anton.” There’s a beat of silence where you just look at each other, and you swear you catch him glancing at your lips before quickly looking away. You shift your bag strap on your shoulder and try to sound casual, even though your voice comes out a little too nervous. “My friend didn’t come today, so…do you wanna…sit with me? Maybe?”
His eyes widen a fraction, and he blinks like you just asked him to solve a math problem in front of the whole class. “Uh—y-yeah, sure! Of course!” The words come out in a rush, and the pink in his cheeks deepens. You grin, and when he stands to follow you, he fumbles a little with unplugging his headphones and gathering his stuff, as if he’s suddenly hyperaware of every move he’s making. By the time you both settle into seats together, there’s a faint awkwardness in the air, not bad awkward, but the kind that makes your pulse race and your knees bounce under the desk.
The professor starts droning on at the front of the room, the scratch of pens and the faint clicking of laptop keys filling the air. You sneak a sideways glance at Anton, the way his hoodie sleeves are pushed up, his hair slightly messy, his glasses slipping a little down the bridge of his nose. You lean in just a bit, lowering your voice to a whisper. “You look good today, Anton.” He freezes mid-typing, fingers hovering over the keys. Slowly, he turns his head toward you, eyes wide behind his lenses. The blush is instant, creeping up from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
“Oh—uh… thanks,” he murmurs, voice cracking slightly before he clears his throat. Then, after a pause, he adds quietly, “You… you look good too.” The corners of your mouth lift into a shy smile, and for a moment, neither of you look at the professor, just each other. You both face forward again, but a minute later, you notice him stealing a quick glance at you from the corner of his eye. You bite your lip, leaning closer again. “What?” you ask softly, smiling.
He shakes his head quickly, the blush still there. “Nothing… just—you’re distracting.” You blink, startled, before letting out a soft laugh. “Distracting how?” His jaw tenses like he instantly regrets saying it. “Just…distracting.” he says again, almost shyly pouting, and turns back to his screen, though you can see the tips of his ears still red.
The lecture finally wraps up, chairs scraping against the floor as students start to file out. Anton closes his laptop with a quiet click, slipping it into his bag. You tuck your pen into your notebook, fingers fidgeting a little before you work up the courage to speak. “You heading out?” you ask softly, glancing at him through your lashes, heat blooming in your cheeks.
“Uh—yeah,” he says, voice low, almost unsure, like he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him first. You stand, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “Cool,” you say with a small, shy smile. “We can walk together…if you want.” For a second, he just looks at you, like the words took a moment to process. Then he nods quickly, lips twitching into a faint smile. “Y-yeah, yeah, sure.”
The two of you fall into step as you leave the classroom, the low hum of voices around you fading the moment you step outside into the crisp air. You walk side by side, the afternoon sun spilling gold across the pavement. Your shoulder nearly brushes his, and you catch yourself smiling before you even realize it. “So…” you say, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, “distracting, huh?”
Anton’s head snaps toward you, eyes widening. “Wha—I—” He stumbles over his words, his ears already turning pink. “I didn’t mean—I mean, I wasn’t—” You bite back a grin, pretending to look ahead. “Relax, I’m teasing.” He huffs a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re…uh…good at that.” Your smile softens. “Teasing you?” His gaze flickers to yours for half a second before dropping to the ground. “Yeah…that.”
You walk a few steps in silence, the kind that feels warm rather than awkward. “So…” you murmur, glancing up at him with a playful smile, “do you always get that flustered, or is it just when I’m around?” Anton’s blush deepens instantly. “Uh…maybe just when you’re around.” You bite your lip to hide a grin. “That’s cute.” He looks away, shoving one hand into his pocket. “Not sure that’s the word I’d use.”
“What word would you use, then?” you ask, tilting your head. His lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. “Dangerous.” You blink at him, surprised. “Dangerous?” He shrugs, finally daring to meet your eyes again. “You make it hard to think straight.” Your stomach flips, and you quickly glance away before he can see just how much that got to you.
By the time you reach the dorm building, your pulse has settled into a strange mix of calm and nervous excitement. The late afternoon light makes the air feel softer somehow. Anton stops with you in front of the entrance. “So…I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, his voice a little uncertain, like he’s not ready for this to end. “Yeah,” you say with a smile. “Thanks for walking me.”
Before you can overthink it, you shift up onto your tippy toes, your hand lightly brushing his arm for balance, and press a quick kiss to his cheek. You hear his breath catch, feel him go still for just a heartbeat before you pull away. When you step back, his cheeks are flushed a deep pink, his gaze flicking down to yours like he’s still processing what happened. You’re blushing just as hard. “Um…bye, Anton.” “B-bye,” he says, his voice low and almost dazed, watching you slip inside.
Anton stood there for a moment, staring at the glass doors you’d just walked through. His cheek still tingled faintly, the ghost of your lips lingering like it was branded there. He exhaled, running a hand over the spot, almost like he needed to confirm it actually happened. 'She kissed me'.
The thought looped in his head, each time making his stomach twist in the best way. He’d been kissed before—well… sort of, but never like that. Never so soft and sweet and completely unexpected. He caught himself smiling, then quickly shoved his hands into his pockets and started back toward his own dorm. His heart was still racing, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop thinking about how small your hand felt against his arm and how close your lips had been to his own.
The lecture was dragging, the professor’s voice a low drone in the background. You were scribbling down notes, leaning just slightly closer to Anton so you could peek at his laptop screen. He shifted in his seat, leaning toward you to point out a line in the slide you’d missed. As he did, his shoulder brushed yours, and he froze for half a second before murmuring, almost to himself, “You smell nice.”
Your pen paused mid-word. Heat rushed straight to your cheeks, and you turned your head to look at him. He was already back to staring at his screen, ears tinted pink like he hadn’t even realized what he’d said until it was too late. “...Thanks,” you whispered, smiling down at your notebook. You didn’t get much else written for the rest of the lecture.
Over the next couple of weeks, it became a quiet routine—finding each other before lectures, walking side by side to the café between classes, sharing fries at the food place near the uni while pretending not to notice how often your knees brushed under the table.
Sometimes it was a lingering glance over the rim of a coffee cup, sometimes a shy compliment slipped into the conversation when you thought the other wasn’t listening. Each time, it left you both smiling to yourselves for hours after.
One afternoon, as everyone was packing up after a lecture, you let out a small groan. “I forgot to write half the stuff from today,” you mumbled, shoving your notebook into your bag. Anton looked over from where he was closing his laptop. “Don’t worry. Gimme your number, I’ll send you my notes.”
You perked up instantly. “Really? Thank you so much, Toni!” The nickname rolled off your tongue so naturally that you didn’t even think about it until his ears flushed pink. Before he could react, you rocked up and ruffled his soft hair playfully.
“See you later!” you chirped, turning to leave.He stayed rooted in place, blinking after you like his brain had shut off. His cheeks were burning, half from the nickname, half from the unexpected warmth of your hand in his hair. And, god help him, he swore his jeans felt just a little tighter than they had a moment ago.
Anton
here are the notes :)
You
thanks so much toni! you’re a lifesaver
Anton
no problem :) i didn’t do much
You
you always do more than you think :3
Anton
haha…maybe :)
You
wanna grab a coffee after class tomorrow?
Anton
sure :) that sounds good
You
yay! i’ll see you then
Anton
looking forward to it :)
You slide into the chair across from Anton at the café, the smell of coffee and pastries wrapping around you. He sets his keys on the table as he takes out his wallet, and your eyes catch something dangling from the keyring. A tiny, metal Calcifer keychain. “Oh my god!” you exclaim softly, leaning a little closer. “Is that…Calcifer from Howl’s Moving Castle?” He freezes mid-motion, eyebrows shooting up. “Uh…yeah. You…you know that movie?”
You grin, trying not to squeal. “Love it! It’s one of my favorites!” He blinks at you, clearly surprised, adjusting his glasses. “…Wait. I didn’t know you liked anime.” You tilt your head, smirking slightly. “You never asked.” He chuckles softly, still a little flustered, and the conversation drifts naturally into talking about favorite scenes, characters, and little movie details. You laugh together, the atmosphere cozy and easy.
As the hangout winds down and you both finish your drinks, he fidgets slightly, looking down at the table, then up at you with a soft, shy smile. “Uh…so…you—if you want…maybe…you could come over sometime? Watch it…with me?” You freeze for a second, cheeks warming, before letting out a small, happy laugh. “I’d love that.” His relief is obvious, he lets out a quiet breath, smiling sheepishly. The flutter of excitement between you both feels electric.
“Uh…you can…come over tonight, if you want.” he says softly, voice barely above a murmur. Your heart skips a beat and warmth floods your cheeks. You bite your lip for a second, trying to play it cool, before smiling brightly. “Mhm! Tonight it is, then.” you say, the words coming out a little breathless, but cheerful. He blinks at you, clearly caught off guard by how naturally you accepted, and his ears tint pink. A small, shy smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
Anton told you to meet at 8pm. You glance down at your outfit one last time—shorts and a cozy sweater, nothing fancy, just casual. Your stomach twists with nerves. Taking a deep breath, you knock on Anton’s door. The second it opens, your breath catches. He’s…stunning. Damp hair clings slightly to his forehead from a recent shower, his pyjama pants hanging low on his hips, the white shirt stretched perfectly over broad shoulders.
He looks effortlessly perfect, and you realize you’ve been staring before you even noticed. Anton clears his throat, probably aware of the way your eyes linger. He scratches the back of his neck, cheeks already pink, like he’s caught in some awkward but very sexy moment. “Uh…hey.” he mutters, voice low and rougher than usual.
“Hey.” you manage, trying to force a casual smile, though your heart is racing and your palms feel hot. You can’t stop yourself from stealing another glance at him, and he seems to notice, quickly looking away with a small, flustered laugh. The room smells faintly of his shampoo, warm and inviting, and your nerves are suddenly tingling in a very different way.
You step into Anton’s room, eyes widening as you take it all in. Posters of anime and game characters cover the walls—some cute, some daring, and many of the girls featured have big tits and barely any clothes. Shelves lined with figurines catch the soft glow from the warm lights he has set up around the room, and a few of the figurines are equally risqué. A few plants sit on the windowsill, adding a touch of life to the space.
Despite all the decorations, the room is surprisingly tidy. Everything has its place, and it feels…comfortable, inviting. “Wow…I like your room,” you say softly, cheeks heating as you glance around. Anton shifts slightly, scratching the back of his neck, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks…I, uh…like to keep it cozy, I guess.”
You nod, still looking around, letting your gaze linger on the little details—the way some posters are slightly angled, the neat lineup of figurines, the LED light spilling across the floor. The room feels like him. Nerdy, thoughtful, and warm all at once. He watches you quietly, clearly noticing how absorbed you are, and feels a little thrill at how easily your eyes wander over his space.
You curl up on Anton’s bed, leaning against the wall as he sits cross-legged a little distance from you. It feels like you’re in a little world of your own. As the opening scenes of Howl’s Moving Castle play, you find yourself inching slightly closer to him. He glances at you, those soft brown eyes catching yours, and his cheeks pink. You notice how easily your knee brushes his, and your heart flutters.
At one point, the remote slides off the bed, landing on the floor with a soft thud. “Oops! I got it.” you say, bending over to pick it up. Anton’s breath catches. Your shorts ride up just enough that your ass is completely in his view, and he instantly curses under his breath, voice low and rough, fuck…
When you sit back up, you hold the remote triumphantly and smile up at him. “Got it!” you chirp, eyes sparkling. He forces a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck, trying not to look anywhere but your face, even though his gaze keeps flickering down in spite of himself. “Yeah…nice save,” he mutters, voice tight, cheeks burning. The tension between you both hums in the quiet of the room, the movie forgotten for just a few seconds as your proximity and the way you move sets his heart racing.
The movie’s been playing for a while now, the both of you leaning back against the headboard. You’re trying to keep your eyes on the screen, but Anton’s quiet presence beside you is almost louder than the sound coming from the TV. Halfway through, he lets out a soft sigh and stretches, lifting his arms above his head.
The hem of his loose white shirt rides up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin—smooth and pale, with a faint trail of hair dipping below the waistband of his pyjama pants. The faint outline of toned muscle is enough to make your breath hitch.
You don’t even realize you’re staring until you bite your lip without thinking. Anton freezes mid-stretch, his arms lowering quickly. When his eyes meet yours, he notices the way you’re looking at him. His face turns pink instantly. “Uh—” he starts, voice awkward and a little high, “comfortable?”
“Mhm.” you hum, looking back at the screen as if you hadn’t just been caught shamelessly staring. But then you notice something. Out of the corner of your eye, his gaze drifts downward… to your thighs. You’re sitting with them pressed together, the fabric of your shorts hugging your skin in a way that leaves very little to the imagination. His eyes linger for a few seconds too long before darting back up.
You catch it. You definitely catch it. But you don’t say anything. The air between you feels warmer now, charged with something unspoken. You try to focus on the film, but your heartbeat is loud in your ears. Somewhere around the hour mark, the coziness of his room and the warmth of his body next to yours start to lull you to sleep. Your head dips before you even realize it, landing softly against his chest.
Anton stiffens instantly. His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like he’s trying to compute what just happened. His heartbeat spikes, and he’s sure you can feel it under your cheek. You mumble something incoherent in your sleep and shift, curling slightly toward him until your arm almost wraps around his. His face turns a deeper shade of red. He doesn’t know where to put his hands.
He tells himself not to move. Not to touch you. If you woke up, you might think he was taking advantage of the situation. But then…he can’t help it. Slowly, carefully, his hand lifts to your hair. His fingers brush against it tentatively, then slide through the strands with the lightest touch. He pets your head so gently, as though afraid you might shatter if he pressed any harder.
The smell of your shampoo drifts up to him, and it makes his chest feel tight in a way he can’t quite explain. He’s so wrapped up in the moment that when your voice suddenly breaks the silence, his heart nearly jumps out of his chest. “Will you ever ask me on a date,” you murmur, voice groggy but teasing, “or do I have to do it?”
Anton freezes, every muscle going rigid. “You’re…awake?” he says softly, almost as if he’s in disbelief. You still don’t open your eyes, your cheek warm against him. “I have been for a while.” you admit with a faint smile.
His hand stills in your hair, and he swallows hard. “Oh…uh…I mean…if you want to go on a date with me…” Finally, you tilt your head up just enough to look at him, your smile small but certain. “I do.” He swears his chest has never felt so light and tight at the same time.
Anton’s lips twitch into the smallest smile, and he nods. “Okay then.” His voice is soft, almost shy. Slowly, reluctantly, he begins to lift his hand from your hair. “No.” you murmur, catching his wrist before he can pull away. His brows lift slightly, startled. You guide his hand right back onto your head, fingers threading gently through yours for a second before you let go. “Keep doing it…I like it.”
The tips of his ears turn pink, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “O-okay…” he says quietly, the faintest smile curling on his lips. And so, he keeps going, his fingertips brushing through your hair in slow, absent strokes while your attention drifts back to the TV. His heart is still racing, but there’s a strange calm in the rhythm of touching you like this.
By the time the movie ends, you’re wide awake again. You slip on your shoes while he stands by the door, watching you with that same gentle, slightly awkward expression. When you step into the doorway, you tilt your chin up at him, hands clasped behind your back, eyes wide and soft. “So…I’ll see you tomorrow?” He nods quickly, his Adam’s apple shifting as he swallows. “Y-yeah…” The corners of his mouth lift into a quiet smile. “It’s a date then! Goodnight, Toni.” You stand on your toes, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
The warmth of your lips lingers there, and Anton freezes, eyes widening before color floods his face. He blinks, flustered, clearly at a loss for words. “Goodnight.” he finally manages, giving you a small wave as you head down the hall. The door closes softly, and he leans back against it, pressing his palm over the spot you kissed, his heart hammering like it’s trying to escape.
When you stepped out to meet Anton, you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened before darting away, a flush creeping up his neck. White thigh-high socks, a short skirt, and a soft fitted sweater—it was exactly the kind of outfit you’d seen on some of the girls in his posters and figurines, and you knew it.
“Hey!” you greeted with an innocent smile, pretending you didn’t notice how his gaze kept flickering to your legs before he forced himself to focus on your face. “Hi,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…ready?”
The arcade was loud and bright, neon lights reflecting off his glasses. You started at the air hockey table, where you made an exaggerated show of celebrating each point you scored, and he just shook his head with that quiet, amused smile he always wore around you now. Then it was racing games—he won, of course, but the little spark of pride in his eyes told you he liked seeing you try to beat him.
“Okay, okay,” you said, catching your breath, “one more thing.” You tugged on his sleeve, leading him toward the claw machines. Your eyes landed on a soft, pastel plush near the center of one, and you pointed. “That one.” He stepped forward, feeding coins into the machine, and muttered under his breath each time the claw slipped. “This is rigged.” He scoffed.
“You just have to believe in yourself.” you teased, resting your elbow lightly on his arm. By the fourth try, the claw finally lifted the plush all the way to the chute. You squealed, grabbing it and hugging it to your chest. “My hero!” His ears turned pink immediately, especially when you added, “Thanks, Toni!”
“I—uh—yeah… you’re welcome,” he stammered, trying to hide a smile. When you hooked your hand around his arm in excitement, he went stock-still, like every muscle in his body froze at once. You felt the warmth under his sweater sleeve, and his heartbeat felt a little faster than normal, but he didn’t pull away.
As you stepped out of the arcade, still clutching the plush to your chest, your eyes caught a small ice cream shop glowing warmly on the corner. “Oh my god! Let’s go!” you gasped, pointing, not waiting for his answer before your fingers slipped into his hand. You tugged him toward it, the warmth of his palm making his steps a little hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should hold back or just let you lead.
Inside, the place smelled like sugar and fresh waffle cones. You picked vanilla without hesitation, grinning as the server handed it to you. Anton shook his head when they asked him, mumbling, “I’m fine.” but when you reached for your wallet, he was already pulling out his own cash. “Anton—” “Nope,” he said, eyes dropping to the counter, “I’ve got it.” You beamed, leaning up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Toni.” The heat in his ears spread to his neck instantly, and he muttered something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch.
You both sat outside on the shop’s little chairs, the evening air cool against your skin. You took slow licks of your ice cream, savoring it, completely unaware (or maybe not) of the way his gaze kept flicking to your mouth. Every time you let your tongue glide over the melting vanilla, he shifted in his seat, red creeping over his cheeks again. When you wrapped your lips around the tip of the cone, sucking lightly to keep it from dripping, he swallowed hard, his thoughts skittering somewhere very far from ice cream.
By the time you finished, you licked your lips, smiling at him like nothing was out of the ordinary. “Okay, we can go now!” He stood up a little too quickly, adjusting his pajama pants in a subtle, desperate motion. “Y-yeah…let’s go.”
The walk back started off quiet, the night air soft and cool against your skin. You were still clutching the plushie in one arm, your other hand swinging loosely at your side. Anton walked next to you, hands shoved deep into his hoodie, every now and then glancing at you like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite bring himself to.
Halfway down the block, you slowed your steps and then stopped entirely, turning to face him. Your lips curved into a small pout, eyes glimmering with something a little sad. “I don’t want this date to end yet.” you said softly, toeing the pavement. He froze, caught off guard, his breath visible in the cool air. The tips of his ears flushed pink. “We…could go to my place again,” he offered shyly, then, with a small smile, “Watch something?”
Your pout melted instantly into a grin. “Mhm! Yes, please.” You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his without warning, your fingers curling through his. Anton stiffened in surprise, eyes widening for just a second before his gaze darted away. He didn’t pull back though. If anything, his hand tightened slightly around yours.
You began swinging your joined hands back and forth in an exaggerated, playful rhythm, and his mouth twitched into a smile despite himself. Neither of you said much more, but the silence was comfortable now, each step bringing you closer to the dorms…and whatever would happen next.
By the time you reached his building, Anton still hadn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t point it out, you just smiled to yourself and followed him inside. His dorm room was exactly how you remembered it from last time—tidy, cozy, softly lit, with the faint scent of his shampoo still lingering from earlier. You kicked off your shoes and, without hesitation, plopped down onto the edge of his bed, hugging your plush to your chest.
He closed the door behind him, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at you. “Uh…what do you wanna watch?” You leaned back onto your hands, swinging your legs slightly. “Anything you want, Toni.” You said it cheerfully, the nickname rolling off your tongue in that way you knew made him blush.
And blush he did. He turned to his desk, pretending to scroll through his streaming options just to give himself a second to recover. “Okay…um how about A Silent Voice?” You nodded instantly. “Perfect.” He climbed onto the bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight.
At first, there was a polite little space between you—but as the opening scenes played, your legs brushed once, then twice. Neither of you pulled away. The warmth of him was right there, just inches from you, and you could already feel the air between you shifting, thickening, the same way it had last time.
The movie played softly in the background, the purple glow from the LEDs making the whole room feel hotter. You were sitting closer and cloer, each touch sending a little spark up your spine. At one point, Anton shifted, his arm resting on the bed behind you, and you leaned slightly into him without thinking. A quiet moment in the movie made you glance at him, and you caught him already looking at you. Neither of you moved.
His hair was sticking up a little in the front, and without thinking, you reached up to smooth it down. Your fingers lingered, brushing his forehead. You felt his breath hitch. When your hand dropped back to your lap, the space between you felt electric. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. “Anton.” you said softly. He hummed, almost nervously, “Hm?”
“Kiss me.” For a second, he froze—his wide eyes searching your face like he was making sure you meant it. And then, slowly, he leaned in. The first brush of his lips was hesitant, testing, but you pressed closer, kissing him back, and that tiny hesitation melted away. His hand came up to cup your cheek, warm and careful, as the kiss deepened. You shifted, closing the space entirely, and before you knew it you were in his lap, your knees on either side of him.
His breath caught against your mouth, and he gripped your waist like he was scared you’d pull away. But you didn’t. You rolled your hips experimentally, and his quiet, shaky whimper made you smile against his lips. Anton kissed you like he was afraid to mess it up, but the moment you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave a gentle tug, something inside him faltered. His breath stuttered, and you felt the way his grip on your waist tighten.
You deepened the kiss, your mouth moving against his with a slow hunger. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed you now was firmer, almost desperate. You tugged on his hair again, a little harder this time, and he let out the smallest, most breathless sound into your mouth. It made heat pool low in your stomach.
You whimpered—not loud, just enough for it to slip past your lips, and that sound seemed to wreck him. He shifted under you, his thighs tensing, and you felt the hardness pressing against you through his sweatpants. His breathing got heavier, more uneven, as you rolled your hips just enough to test him.
“Y-you’re…” he broke off, swallowing hard, his cheeks flushed deep red. He didn’t finish the sentence, just leaned forward to kiss you harder, like he couldn’t stop himself anymore. His hands slid up your sides, hesitant but needy, bunching the hem of your sweater as his thumbs brushed the bare skin of your waist.
Every little whimper from you made him twitch under you, his self-control fraying by the second. He didn’t even notice how tightly he was holding you until you pulled back slightly, both of you catching your breath, foreheads touching, his chest rising and falling quickly.
His hands, still trembling slightly, slid down from your waist to your thighs, caressing slowly as if he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you. The soft fabric of your thigh-high socks under his palms made his breath hitc, every inch of exposed skin between them and your skirt had him swallowing hard.
You could feel the way he was hesitating, his fingertips barely grazing, almost shy. So you reached down, took one of his hands gently, and guided it under the hem of your skirt until it rested against the warm fabric of your panties. His eyes widened, his entire body freezing for a second. “Please…touch me.” you pouted, your voice soft but desperate, looking up at him through your lashes.
Anton’s jaw clenched, his cheeks burning crimson. “I–I…” he stammered, clearly overwhelmed, but his fingers flexed ever so slightly against you, already feeling the dampness there. He swallowed, gaze flicking from your pleading expression to where his hand was between your legs, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening.
Slowly, hesitantly, he started to stroke you through the thin fabric, his breathing quickening with every tiny sound you made. The warmth and wetness beneath his touch sent a shiver through him, and when you whimpered again, he bit his lip hard, fighting the urge to just tear the panties aside and fuck you right there and there.
Anton’s breath was coming faster now, his fingers rubbing gentle, nervous circles over your clothed clit. The friction had you rolling your hips down against his touch, but every movement also pressed you into the growing bulge beneath his sweatpants. You couldn’t help it, you shifted closer, grinding lightly against him as his breath hitched, his other hand gripping the bed sheets like he didn’t know where else to put it.
You reached for that hand, guiding it up to your chest. His eyes flicked to yours in surprise, but when you placed it over your breast, his fingers curled instinctively, squeezing through your sweater and bra. The combination of his touches had you letting out a soft, shaky whimper against his lips, which made him groan quietly into the kiss. It wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel him, really feel him.
You broke the kiss for just a moment, your lips wet and swollen, and slid your panties down your thighs, kicking them aside on the bed. Without giving him time to process, you took his hand again, the one that had been rubbing you through the thin fabric, and guided it between your legs until his fingers met your bare, slick pussy.
Anton froze, a sharp breath escaping him, his pupils blown wide. His fingertips twitched slightly against you before he swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room. “You’re…s-so warm.” he whispered, almost like he was talking to himself.
His thumb kept rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your clit, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking against his hand, chasing that sharp, sweet pleasure. Your breath came out in shaky bursts, your skirt bunched up around your hips, his eyes glued to the way you moved for him.
Then, without warning, you felt the gentle press of his finger slipping inside you. Your back arched instantly, a gasp spilling from your lips that quickly melted into a needy moan. “Ah—Anton!” you whined, your thighs trembling slightly as he moved that finger in and out of you in slow, careful motions.
His gaze flicked up to your face, flushed and focused. “Is that…okay?” he asked softly, almost like he was scared to break the moment. You nodded fast, your voice urgent. “More.” His lips parted, chest rising quickly, he didn’t hesitate. He slid another finger inside you. The stretch had you letting out a broken whimper, and his breath stuttered at the sound. He kept his pace gentle, curling them just enough to make your hips jerk.
His fingers moved inside you faster now, curling expertly as he matched the rhythm of your hips grinding against him. Every wet, slippery sound of your arousal seemed to drive him further, and he couldn’t help the small, shaky moans that escaped his lips.
You tugged at his hair, hard enough to make him gasp, and he let out a sharp, breathy whine, eyes closing for a split second. His pace didn’t falte. If anything, it quickened, fingers plunging deeper, curling just right to hit all the right spots. The room was filled with the slick, wet sounds of your pleasure and the occasional whimper or gasp that slipped past your lips.
Every noise you made made him harder beneath you, his own need pressing against your clothed heat. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours for a second, watching your expression contort with pleasure, and whispered, almost desperately, “You feel so good…”
As he kept fingering you, his other hand wandered nervously over his lap. You felt the hard outline of him through his sweatpants and palmed him gently. A small, shaky whimper escaped his lips, and you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “Want you inside...” you breathed, voice soft and desperate. The sight of you like that—lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling—made him stiffen even more.
You slowly peeled off your sweater and bra, tossing them aside, and he couldn’t stop staring. His hands trembled slightly, but finally he pulled his own shirt off, revealing the toned chest and abs. Your breath hitched, and heat pooled low in your belly, you were already dripping just from looking at him.
You took him in your hand, drooling at how big and hard and pretty he was, slick with precum. A soft whine escaped him at your touch. Slowly, carefully, you began sliding down onto him, lips parted and breathing uneven. His length hit you and made you gasp, it was more than you expected, and you struggled a little to take him in fully.
“You’re so big, Toni…” you whimpered, the words shaking as your hips pressed down. He let out a deep moan at your words, fingers gripping your hips lightly, trying to help guide you, while his eyes stayed locked on your face, full of need and disbelief. You finally bottomed out with a sharp, breathy moan, and he immediately groaned, gripping your hips tightly. “F-fuck…” he stammered, voice low and shaky, eyes wide as he tried to take it all in.
Clinging to him, your arms wrapped around his neck, you started moving slowly, rocking up and down against him. Every little thrust made him whimper softly, his lips parting in short gasps. His hands pressed against your waist, thumbs brushing over your sides as you moved, both of you making quiet, desperate sounds. The tension and pleasure wrapped tightly around you, leaving no space for anything else.
“Toni…” you whispered between breaths, voice trembling, chest rising and falling. “S-s’big…” you added, eyes fluttering shut, heat pooling between your thighs as you slowly rode him, both of you lost in the new, intense sensations. You cupped his cheeks, leaning in close, and kissed him hard, teeth and lips mingling, tongues brushing. The feel of him beneath you, soft and firm at the same time, made your body tremble.
You started moving faster, bouncing and whispering in between shallow, desperate kisses, “Want you…feels so good…” Anton was a blushing mess, sitting there stunned, barely able to process how breathtaking you looked taking him like this. He let out a quiet, shaky whimper, unable to resist just watching you, the way your hips rolled and your chest pressed to his, the scent and sight of you overwhelming him.
Then, you pulled your lips back from his briefly, gasping, and as you continued bouncing, you pressed a hand flat against your belly. “Can feel you up here, Toni,” you whined, eyes half-lidded and desperate. That was it. Something snapped in him. Heat surged, his pupils blown wide, and he moaned deeply, leaning forward to grab your waist tightly. His hands dug into your hips as he started bouncing you hard on him, quick, punishing thrusts that made you gasp and whimper.
The switch had flipped—the shy, hesitant boy from earlier was gone. Every motion was confident, dominant, controlled. His eyes locked on yours as he guided your movements, his mouth open in low, needy moans, taking over completely as he rode you through the pleasure he’d been holding back.
The sudden shift in Anton’s behavior made your eyes go wide. The man under you, replaced with someone fierce, commanding, and hungry for you. Every hard, quick thrust made you gasp, moan, and shiver, high-pitched, desperate sounds spilled uncontrollably from your lips as he drove into you. He leaned down, pressing a hand to your chest, cupping your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “You’re so fucking tight.” he groaned, voice low and serious.
You immediately clenched around him at that, your body responding to every word. “Fuck…you’re so wet.” he continued, sliding his hand a little, teasing and grinding as he kept his pace relentless. Your moans grew louder, each one feeding him, making him fuck into you harder, faster. Every time he hit that spot just right, a whimper escaped you, and you tugged at his hair desperately, needing to feel him closer.
His eyes rolled back at the sight of you writhing beneath him, every flicker of your expression only spurring him on. “You feel so good…so fucking good for me,” he whispered, low and dirty, each word a promise and a command. “Such a good girl…gonna make you scream for me.”
Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in as the pleasure built unbearably high. His fingers dug into your hips and your chest, his dirty words and praise mixing with the way he pounded in you, making your vision blur and your body shiver uncontrollably under him.
His hand slid down from your breast, fingers circling your clit with a firm, insistent rhythm. Every motion made your hips buck uncontrollably, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. “Toni…m’so close…” you whimpered, voice high and trembling, moans spilling past your lips as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach.
“Fuck—cum for me, baby,” he groaned, voice low and ragged, heat radiating off him. “You’re so fucking hot.” The pet name, him calling you baby for the first time, had an immediate effect. Your walls clenched around him, your toes curling, and a high-pitched, broken moan tore from your throat as you came hard, shivering against him.
He didn’t hesitate. He captured your lips in a hard, hungry kiss, pressing you flush against him as his hand moved to cradle the side of your throat, gentle pressure just enough to make your breath hitch. You whimpered into the kiss, muffled, overwhelmed by the combination of sensations—the taste of him, the feel of him, and how your walls pulsate around him.
Before you could even process it, Anton’s hands were under your hips, flipping you over onto your back. Your breath hitched, heart racing, but before you could protest, he gently urged you onto all fours, the curve of your ass pressing invitingly toward him. “Anton, I—” you started, breath trembling.
“One more, baby,” he cut in, voice low and commanding, pupils dilated with need. “I know you can do it for me, hm?” You swallowed, cheeks burning, and nodded eagerly. “Yes! Anything for you, Toni!” He smiled, a dangerous, possessive grin spreading across his face. “Good girl.” he murmured, voice rough.
With that, he positioned himself behind you, pressing against your slick pussy before sliding inside you again. The sudden fullness made you gasp, your hands digging into the bed for balance, and he didn’t hesitate to start thrusting, hard and fast, his hands gripping your waist firmly. He slammed into you again, hips snapping hard, hands gripping your waist as he drove in and out with relentless force. “Keep your ass up for me.” he commanded, voice low and rough.
You obeyed instantly, arching into him, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips as he hit that sensitive spot perfectly. The aftershocks of your previous orgasm made every motion even more intense, every touch unbearable in the best way. “You like it, baby? Me fucking you like this?” he asked, voice thick with lust, leaning close so his breath ghosted over your back.
“Mhm!!” you moaned, barely coherent, your nails digging into the bedsheets. “Fuck—say my name, baby.” he demanded, thrusts rougher, faster, more insistent. “Toni…!” you whimpered, voice shaky and desperate, clinging to the bed as he pounded into you, each stroke hitting harder and harder, making your back arch and your chest press to the mattress.
A sharp, hard smack landed on your ass, leaving a red handprint. You gasped loudly, the sting sending shivers of pleasure through you, your hips jerking involuntarily. “Fuck, baby…look at you,” he groaned, eyes dark and hungry. “Taking me so well…so perfect for me.”
Another slap landed on your other cheek, and you whimpered, pressing back into him. He grinned, low and possessive, tugging roughly at a handful of your hair to tilt your head just right. “Such a good girl…you like it when I spank you like this, hm?” he whispered, voice thick and rough, each word dripping with lust. You moaned, voice shaky, “Y-yes!…please, Toni…”
He responded with another hard smack, this time letting his hand linger, fingertips digging slightly into your skin as he pressed your ass against him. “So fucking wet, baby. You’re mine.” His other hand twisted through your hair again, tugging gently to make you arch back, giving him better access, and he leaned closer to your ear. “Tell me how good it feels… say it for me, baby.”
“So good, Toni!—Nghh!” you moaned, your hips practically slamming into him from your own desperation. His hand moved from your waist to your belly, pressing down just enough to make you moan loudly, hips jerking against him. “You feel me here, baby? So deep in you, yeah?” he groaned, voice low and rough.
You nodded uncontrollably, eyes watering from the overwhelming pleasure. He pressed down harder on your stomach, leaning back slightly to take in the sight of you—skirt bunched at your waist, thigh-high socks stretching over your legs, body pressed perfectly against him. “You’re so fucking cute…with your cute socks,” he murmured, voice thick with lust, his hand moving to squeeze your ass firmly. “Fuck, baby…so pretty. You know what you’re doing to me, hm?”
You nodded again and he smirked, a low chuckle escaping him. Without warning, his hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a stinging slap that made you yelp and moan at the same time. “You’re mine, baby,” he breathed, voice rough, eyes dark and intense. “Every inch of you…all mine.”
He kept slamming into you, each thrust hitting that perfect spot, his hand sliding down to circle your clit in tight, fast motions. “M’so close—ah!” you whimpered, voice trembling, your legs starting to shake. “Fuck, baby…me too.” he groaned, hips moving faster, almost desperate. That strange, overwhelming pressure built deep in your abdomen, making you gasp. “Toni! S’too m–much!”
“But you take it so well, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and filthy in your ear, “you’re such a good girl for me.” You cried, “Fuck! Anton!”, body tightening before the release hit you all at once—hot, messy, unstoppable. Your thighs trembled as you squirted around him, the sound of it mixing with his moan as he pounded you through it.
“Shit…you just squirted all over me…fuck, you’re perfect.” Anton groaned, his voice low and wrecked. You moaned at his words, your body still trembling from release. Before you could catch your breath, he pulled out abruptly, flipping you onto your back with surprising strength. His messy hair fell over his forehead, his flushed face twisted in pleasure as his hand pumped his cock fast.
The sight of you—skirt messy, socks on, your stomach rising and falling with every shaky breath, it pushed him over the edge. With a loud, broken whimper, he came hard, spilling hot ropes across your belly and chest, his shoulders tensing as his hips jerked. Anton stayed kneeling between your legs, chest heaving, hair a total mess. His wide eyes followed every rise and fall of your stomach as he tried to catch his breath.
You dragged your fingers through the warm mess on your belly, scooping some up without breaking eye contact. His gaze locked on you, pupils blown, as you slowly brought your fingers to your lips and licked them clean. He let out a strangled sound, half groan, half whimper, before whispering, “Holy…fucking…shit.”
You barely had time to smile before he leaned forward, kissing you hard, his hands cradling your face like he couldn’t get enough. “You’re the best girl, baby.” he murmured against your mouth, voice still wrecked. You tugged on his hair gently, and he sighed into the kiss, finally collapsing beside you.
A few moments later, you were lying flat on the bed, his head resting against your chest while your fingers played lazily with his hair, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat slowly calm. You’re lying there, feeling his warmth against you, your fingers lazily combing through his messy hair. The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the AC. “Anton?” you say suddenly, voice quiet and soft.
He hums against your chest, “Mm?” You swallow, heart thumping. “Will you be my boyfriend?” His head lifts immediately, eyes wide and cheeks flushing a deep pink. “A-are you for real?” You pout a little, glancing away before looking back at him. “Anton…you just made me squirt, I’ve never done that before…and besides—” you bite your lip, “I really like you. A lot.”
His mouth parts slightly, like he’s lost for words. Then, with a shaky little laugh, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “I like you too…like really fucking like you. And yeah—yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend.” You grin, cheeks warm, and pull him back down against your chest, feeling him smile into your skin.
𓏸⠀ 𓈒 check out my masterlist .ᐟ get added in my taglist .ᐟ
we all get hard when our girlfriend calls us big and strong.
beware: handjob, use of the pet name 'baby' (we ALL fw it), kinda submissive anton yess
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anton loves being in control. he's always the one towering over you, making you feel small, teasing you. but deep down, you know he loves being on the receiving end even more. he can't help taking the lead whenever you're around even if it goes against what he truly wants. you know he'll only fall into his destined position if he's caught off guard.
you find him spread out on the couch watching tv, he doesn't even notice you approaching. you plop down against his side, facing him. he mumbles an absent greeting, eyes boring into the screen.
your hand goes over his clothed stomach, feeling the dents of his muscles with your palm. he glances down at your hand for a moment before looking back up. you continue feeling him up, reaching to feel his muscular chest for a split second. he's visibly distracted now. "wow." you whisper, slipping your hand under his shirt.
"how often do you work out?" you trace his abs with your fingertips. you already know the answer, but you'll do anything to hear his affected voice.
"few times a week." he breathes out.
your head rests on his chest, the bass of his pounding heart flooding your ear. your wandering hand trails to his bicep, squeezing it gently. "so big and strong," you murmur, "what are you training for?" you crane your neck to see his face. his eyes flutter shut every time you give him a squeeze. your palm leaves his arm and he regains consciousness, mouthing a 'huh' when he realizes you'd asked him something.
you reach down to grasp at his thigh through the thick fabric of his sweats, "you train legs too right? a lot of guys only focus on their upper body." you're barely doing anything and he already looks so bothered, your head rising and falling along with his heaving chest. you feel movement when his chin slightly bumps the top of your head, but can't guess if he's nodding in response or not. "you do?" you look up at him, he's staring down at your hand intensely, like he's trying to control it with his mind.
"yes." he says quietly.
your other arm that's been wedged between your body and the couch stretches to rest behind his neck, fingers threading through his hair as he lets out a loud sigh.
your hand creeps back up to his toned stomach, purposely skipping over the growing bulge in his pants. your nails drag against the hard-earned definition of his abs, you can hear his heartbeat quickening when your hand glides down, two fingers slipping just past the waistband of his sweats. they stay there unmoved, "should i start working out too? i feel like i'm missing out on something."
when he opens his mouth to respond, you press down on his lower abdomen, earning what sounds like a low groan mixed with his usual exhales. "are you okay?" you ask lightly, withdrawing your digits and patting the cloth of his waistband as if you're smoothing something.
"no, wait. please." he says hurriedly.
"please what?" if he wasn't so desperate you're sure he would have rolled his eyes. you wait for him to part his lips in response, eager to play your sound-drawing trick on him again.
but instead, his hand envelopes the back of yours. your fingers intertwined, when he guides you directly where he wants.
he retrieves his hand and leaves you in control.
"why can't you react normally when i compliment you?" you tease.
"your way of complimenting," he pauses, letting out a groan when you palm him over his sweats. "isn't normal." he finishes the sentence, his voice rising by the end of it when you grab his length.
"you don't like normal." you tug his sweats and boxers down together slowly, freeing his hard cock. he's already leaking.
he looks at you with wide eyes when you move like you're about to touch him, but then stop midway, raising your palm up to his chin.
your head motions towards your hand when he looks at you dumbfounded. you know he knows what to do, he just wants you to say it.
"spit." you order.
it's obvious he's fighting back a smile while he gathers as much saliva as he can in his mouth, before parting his lips and letting it spill into your palm.
you cup your hand, tilting it so the spit drips down his length.
you give him one long stroke, spreading the wetness so it coats his whole cock. his head instantly tips back against the couch, slack-jawed. you massage his tip with your thumb and he lets out a whimper. "you're so sensitive." you say.
he only nods. you begin stroking his length up and down slowly, earning breathy moans. "you like that?"
he huffs out a quiet 'yeah', biting his lip harshly when you grip the base of his cock. you sit up, your hand that was tangled in his hair reaching under his shirt, feeling for his abs again. "you're so hot, anton." you purr, stroking him faster. "i'd go to the gym with you if it meant you'd fuck me in the locker room."
"fuck." he ruts into your hand.
you egg him on. "it'd feel like this." your grip on him tightens, trying to simulate how you'd clench around him.
he lets out a guttural moan, bucking his hips up to fuck your hand. his eyes are screwed shut, you know he's imagining it.
you can tell he's getting close as his hips stutter, so you purposely slow the pace, stroking him lazily. "already, baby?" you coo at him.
he leaks more precum just from the gentle tone of your voice.
"please continue." he whines.
"you're so cute." you reach up to caress his cheek with your other hand while you continue to stroke him, building up the pace once again. he lets his head fall sideways to rest on your palm, absentmindedly nodding against it when you ask him another meaningless question about the gym.
you gently push his head upright, both hands now going to the base of his cock. with no warning, you duck down and lick the tip. "oh my god." he gasps. you stroke him faster, wrapping your lips around him. he whimpers, "please. faster."
you detach from him and look up to see his eyes closed as he thrusts into your hold, "tell me what you're thinking about." his cock twitches in your hands.
"i'm thinking," he's reckless now, his own hand going over yours to squeeze himself. "i'm thinking about you, fuck," he shuts his mouth to suppress a moan you're still able to hear, muffled. "us at the gym. you counting my reps, then taking me to the back." he whines when you twist around him.
"you wanna fuck me in the gym, baby? have all your friends hear?" you coo at him, or maybe at his dick when you lean down to place a sloppy kiss on the tip. his hips snap upwards, spilling his release all over your hands as he falls apart with a low moan. he's panting when you continue stroking him, milking him of everything.
he nods when you pat his thigh, telling him you're going to go get a towel to clean up his mess. "are you really gonna start going to the gym with me?" he calls out.
content - edm concert setting, drinking/smoking, smut, everyone’s in college, Anton gives reader a shoulder ride
note - can you guys tell i love college student anton? if any of u guys go to raves stay safe and have funnn!!
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The harsh fluorescent lights of the concrete parking garage buzzed overhead, cars were packed bumper to bumper on every level, trunks popped open, music bleeding from portable speakers. The air was thick with the smell of exhaust, alcohol, and the distant, muffled thud of bass vibrating from the stadium a few blocks away.
“Hold still, you’re going to mess up the gems,” Yunjin scolded lightly. She pressed a final iridescent rhinestone near the corner of your eye, using the rearview mirror of Shotaro’s SUV as a makeshift vanity. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork. “Okay. You look devastating. If you don’t ruin at least one man’s life tonight, I’m revoking your rave privileges.”
She pulled out her silver digi cam, the flash blinding you for a second as she snapped a picture of your makeup. Then she squeezed in next to you, pressing her cheek against yours, and held the camera out at arm’s length. The flash went off twice—one normal, one with both of you mid-laugh because Sunoo yelled something stupid from across the trunk.
You laughed, adjusting the straps of your top. You’d gone all out tonight: a black mesh set that hugged every curve, layered under a harness. Your arms were stacked with kandi bracelets, the plastic beads clinking together as you reached for the plastic cup resting on the bumper.
“She’s not ruining anyone’s life, she’s going to be too busy trying not to pass out before the opener finishes,” Sunoo chimed in, appearing at your side. He passed a joint to Yunjin before handing you a plastic cup filled with a mix of peach soju and Yakult. His own face was dusted in silver glitter. “Pace yourself. You just took a shot and hit that twice.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly down your throat, mixing with the warm, heavy buzz of the weed already settling in your limbs.
It wasn’t your first rave, but you were definitely the more casual raver of the group. While Shotaro and Sohee hit festivals almost every other weekend, you usually only tagged along here and there when you had time. Tonight was the final stop of the Illenium and Dabin tour, and it was your first time seeing either of them live. The group chat has been hyped for months.
“Are we moving or what?” Sohee yelled, bouncing on his heels near the concrete stairwell. He and Shotaro were already halfway to the exit, looking back at you three with impatient grins. “We’re going to miss Dabin’s intro!”
“We’re coming!” you shouted back, downing the rest of your drink. You tossed the cup into a nearby trash can, linking arms with Yunjin and Sunoo as you hurried to catch up.
The walk to the festival grounds was a blur of neon outfits, pulsing lasers bleeding into the night sky, and thousands of people vibrating with the same collective anticipation. The alcohol was definitely hitting you now. The edges of your vision were soft, your limbs felt light, and the heavy dubstep echoing from the main stage made your heart race.
You followed Shotaro as he navigated your group through the dense crowd. He was a seasoned raver, weaving through the sea of bodies with practiced ease, his hand firmly gripping Sohee’s backpack so they wouldn’t get separated. You kept one hand on Sunoo’s shoulder as you pushed deeper into the crowd, aiming for a spot just behind the VIP rail.
“We’re meeting a friend of mine here!” Shotaro yelled over his shoulder, his voice barely cutting through the music. “He saved us a spot!”
You finally broke through a particularly dense wall of people, stumbling slightly as the alcohol made your platform boots feel a little heavier than usual. You bumped into a solid wall of a chest, letting out a small gasp.
Large hands immediately caught your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall.
“Careful,” a deep, yet soft voice rumbled above you.
You looked up, and your breath hitched.
Standing there, towering over the rest of the crowd, was a guy who looked like he had been carved out of marble specifically to ruin your life. He was ridiculously tall, with broad shoulders showcased perfectly by a black, sleeveless muscle tank. A silver chain rested against his collarbone, catching the strobe lights. His dark hair was slightly messy, falling into his eyes in a way that looked effortlessly perfect.
Shotaro crashed into him with a massive hug, clapping him on the back. “You actually held the spot! You’re a legend.”
The guy laughed. His voice was a rich, warm rumble that you could feel in your chest even over the heavy bass. He hadn’t let go of your shoulders yet.
Shotaro pulled back and gestured to your group. “Guys, this is Anton. We play soccer together. Anton, this is Sohee, Sunoo, Yunjin, and…” Shotaro’s eyes landed on you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “…and this is my favorite person, but don’t tell the others.”
Anton’s gaze shifted down to you. The moment his dark eyes locked onto yours, the rest of the festival seemed to fade into background noise. He looked you up and down, a slow, deliberate sweep that took in the platform boots, the mesh, the harness, and the few gems around your eyes. When his eyes finally met yours again, a slow smile spread across his face.
“Hi,” he said, his hands finally dropping from your shoulders. Up close, he smelled like expensive cologne and clean laundry, a sharp contrast to the sweat and smoke of the crowd.
“Hi,” you breathed back, suddenly hyper-aware of how much skin you were showing, and how warm your cheeks felt from the vodka.
“Okay, group photo before we lose each other!” Yunjin interrupted, pulling out her silver digi cam. She shoved it into Anton’s hands since he was the tallest. “Take one of us?”
Anton chuckled, taking the small camera. He took a step back, crouching slightly to frame you and Yunjin as she threw an arm around your waist. Right before he pressed the button, his eyes flicked up from the screen, catching yours over the top of the camera for a beat too long. The flash went off, blinding you for a second, but you could still feel the weight of his stare. He handed the camera back to Yunjin before turning his attention fully back to you.
“First time seeing Illenium?” he asked, leaning down slightly so you could hear him over the music.
“First time seeing him, yeah,” you admitted, having to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. The size difference between you was staggering. He was a wall of solid muscle, his presence completely enveloping you. “Not my first rave, but… I don’t go as often as the other guys.”
“I can tell,” Anton murmured, his eyes dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before flicking back up. He tilted his head, studying your flushed face. “You pregamed a little hard, didn’t you?”
You blinked, feeling caught. “Is it that obvious?”
“Just a little,” he chuckled, the sound low and incredibly attractive. “Stick close to me. The crowd gets rough when the headliners come on, we don’t want you getting trampled.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. As Dabin took the stage and the crowd surged forward, Anton naturally positioned himself just behind you. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the heat radiating off his chest, a solid, protective barrier between you and the crushing weight of the thousands of people pushing from behind.
The set was incredible, but about thirty minutes in, the combination of the heavy bass, the flashing strobe lights, and the alcohol you had downed in the parking garage started to catch up with you. The air in the middle of the crowd was stiflingly hot. You swayed slightly, pressing a hand to your forehead as a wave of dizziness washed over you.
Instantly, Anton’s hands were on your waist. “Hey. You okay?”
You leaned back against his chest instinctively, closing your eyes. “Just… a little dizzy. It’s really hot.”
“Alright, come here,” Anton said smoothly. He didn’t ask Shotaro or the others. He just wrapped an arm securely around your waist and gently but firmly guided you out of the thickest part of the crowd, moving toward the slightly more open space near the back rail.
He found a spot where the air was cooler and the bodies weren’t pressed so tightly together. He turned you around to face him, his hands resting on your hips. “Better?”
“Yeah,” you exhaled, opening your eyes. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Anton said softly. He reached into his small crossbody bag and pulled out an unopened bottle of water, twisting the cap off before handing it to you. “Drink this. Slowly.”
You took it, sipping the cool water gratefully. Anton stood in front of you, blocking you from the chaotic flow of people walking by. He reached up, using his large hand to gently fan your face, the cool breeze feeling heavenly against your flushed skin. He was so attentive, his dark eyes watching you carefully to make sure the color was returning to your cheeks.
“Thank you,” you murmured, looking up at him.
“Anytime,” he replied, his thumb brushing lightly against your waist. “You feeling sober enough to go back in, or do you want to stay back here for a bit?”
“I’m okay now,” you smiled, the dizziness fading into a pleasant, manageable buzz.
When you moved back to your group, the dynamic had shifted. Anton kept one hand resting lightly on the small of your back the entire time, instead of just standing behind you. Every time the crowd shoved forward, his grip would tighten, pulling you flush against his chest to protect you from the impact. The touch was respectful, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core every single time.
Halfway through Illenium’s set, the music slowed, the heavy bass fading into a soft, melodic acoustic intro. The crowd roared in recognition as the opening chords of “Hearts on Fire” echoed through the stadium.
“You want to see better?” Anton’s voice rumbled right next to your ear, his breath hot against your neck.
You turned your head, your face inches from his. “What?”
“Get on my shoulders,” he offered, a playful glint in his eyes. “You can’t see the visuals from down here.”
Before you could protest, Anton crouched down slightly, tapping his broad shoulders. “Come on. I got you.”
You hesitated for a second, then grabbed his hands to steady yourself. You swung one leg over his shoulder, then the other, and the first thing you noticed was how wide he was. Your thighs barely fit around the span of his shoulders. Then he stood up, lifting you with effortless strength like you weighed nothing. You could feel the muscles in his shoulders and neck shift and tighten beneath your thighs as he adjusted you, his traps solid and warm under the thin fabric of his tank top.
The view was breathtaking. The entire festival grounds stretched out before you, a massive ocean of people swaying in unison under a canopy of lasers. But as incredible as the view was, all you could focus on was the feeling of Anton beneath you.
Your thighs were pressed flush against his neck, his large hands gripping the backs of your thighs to keep you steady. His fingers dug slightly into your skin, a firm, possessive grip that made your breath catch. You could feel every shift of his broad shoulders between your legs—the way they rolled when he adjusted his stance, the hard muscle flexing under your weight like it was nothing.
The beat dropped, a massive, euphoric explosion of sound and light. Confetti cannons erupted, raining colorful paper down on the crowd. You threw your hands up, completely consumed by the music and the adrenaline. Anton’s hands tightened on your thighs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just below your skirt, and a sharp spike of heat coiled low in your belly.
When the song ended, he slowly lowered you back down to the ground. You slid down his chest, your body pressing flush against his for a long second before your boots hit the grass.
You were breathless as you looked up at him “Thank you.”
Anton didn’t step back. He stayed exactly where he was, so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes dropped to your lips again, and this time, they stayed there.
The tension between you was thick, pulling you toward him like a magnet. You wanted him to kiss you. You wanted it so badly your skin ached with it.
“Hey!” Sohee’s voice shattered the moment, and you both jumped slightly as he threw an arm around Anton’s shoulders. “We’re going to grab water before the finale. You guys want anything?”
Anton cleared his throat, taking a small step back, though his eyes never left yours. “We’re good. We’ll hold the spot.”
The rest of the night was a blur of heavy bass, blinding lights, and the suffocating tension between you and Anton. You traded kandi with him during a quiet moment, teaching him the PLUR handshake. When your fingers interlocked with his, he held on for a second too long, his thumb tracing the back of your hand. He gave you a bracelet that said RAVE HEAD, and you gave him one that said YOURS. You had made it as a joke, but when he read the beads, his eyes darkened, and he slipped it onto his wrist without a word.
By the time the final fireworks went off and the festival lights came up, you were exhausted. Your ears were ringing, your feet ached, and the adrenaline crash was hitting you hard.
The walk out of the venue was a chaotic mass of thousands of people trying to leave at once. The crisp night air felt amazing against your sweat-slicked skin, but you couldn’t stop a shiver from running down your spine.
Without a word, Anton pulled his black zip-up hoodie out of his backpack and draped it over your shoulders. It was massive on you, swallowing you completely, and it smelled exactly like him.
“Okay,” Shotaro announced as your group huddled near the rideshare pickup zone. “There’s an afterparty at this warehouse downtown. Sohee knows the DJ. We’re all going.”
You groaned internally, leaning your head against Yunjin’s shoulder. “Taro, I love you, but if I hear one more bass drop tonight, my brain is going to liquefy. I’m so tired.”
“You can’t tap out now!” Sunoo protested, though he looked sympathetically at your exhausted expression.
Anton looked down at you, his eyes assessing. He could see the fatigue pulling at your features, the way you were practically holding yourself up with Yunjin’s help.
“My hotel is three blocks from here,” Anton said quietly, addressing Shotaro but looking at you. “I’m not really feeling the afterparty either. I can take her back with me. Let her crash there, and you guys can go.”
Shotaro looked between the two of you, that same knowing smirk returning to his face. “You sure, man? We don’t want to impose.”
“It’s fine,” Anton said, his voice steady. He looked down at you, his dark eyes intense. “If she wants to.”
You pulled the oversized hoodie tighter around yourself, your heart hammering against your ribs. You weren’t drunk anymore, but you were definitely not feeling like going to the after party.
“Yeah,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to.”
Yunjin gave you a look that screamed we are talking about this tomorrow in excruciating detail, before hugging you goodbye. You waved to the rest of the group as they piled into a rideshare, leaving you and Anton standing alone on the crowded sidewalk.
“Come on,” Anton said softly, his large hand wrapping around yours. His fingers intertwined with yours perfectly, his grip warm and solid. “Let’s get out of here.”
—
The walk to his hotel was quiet, the ringing in your ears making the city sounds feel muffled. He kept you tucked close to his side, his thumb tracing slow, rhythmic circles over the back of your hand.
His hotel was upscale, the lobby quiet and dimly lit. You rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor in silence, watching the numbers tick up.
Anton unlocked the door to his room and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you in first. The room was dark, illuminated only by the city lights filtering in through the large window.
The heavy door clicked shut behind him, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet room.
You turned around to face him, but before you could even open your mouth, Anton was there.
He didn’t hesitate. He backed you up against the door, his large hands coming up to cup your face, and crashed his mouth down onto yours.
It was everything that had been building up since the moment you locked eyes in the crowd. You gasped into his mouth, your hands flying up to grip the front of his tank top as his tongue slid past your lips, tasting you like he had been starving for it all night.
“God,” he groaned against your mouth, his hands sliding down from your face to grip your waist, pulling you flush against his massive frame. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the second I saw you.”
You breathed, tilting your head back as his lips trailed down your jaw to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Don’t stop.”
Anton let out a low, ragged sound. He grabbed the hem of his tank top, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of him made your breath hitch. He was huge. Broad, thick, and carved with heavy, defined muscle, his skin glowing in the dim light of the city.
He reached for the zipper of your skirt, his large hands making quick work of your rave outfit. The mesh, the harness, the boots—everything was discarded until you were completely bare, standing against the door.
He dropped to his knees right there in the entryway.
Your breath caught in your throat as his large hands gripped the backs of your thighs, pulling your legs slightly apart. He looked up at you, his dark eyes blown wide with lust, the city light catching the sharp angles of his face.
“Anton—” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his dark hair.
“Shh,” he murmured, his breath hot against your center. “Let me taste you.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He pressed his mouth against you, his tongue swiping in a broad stroke that made your knees buckle. You cried out, head falling back against the door. He was relentless, his large hands gripping your thighs tight enough to bruise, holding you in place as he devoured you.
“So fucking sweet,” he hummed against your slick folds, the vibration sending a jolt straight to your clit. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking with a precision that had you sobbing his name.
“Anton—please—” you babbled, fingers gripping his hair as your hips jerked forward.
He pulled away right before you tipped over the edge, leaving you whining. He stood up, massive frame towering over you, lips slick with your wetness.
Anton led you toward the bed, shedding the rest of his clothes in seconds. He didn’t lay you down. He sat back on his heels, grabbed your hips, and pulled you forward until you straddled his lap.
The size difference was staggering. Sitting on him, you felt incredibly small, his broad chest and thick thighs dwarfing you.
“Ride me,” he whispered, eyes dark and hungry.
You guided his thick, heavy length to your entrance and slowly sank down. The stretch was overwhelming. He was so big you had to stop halfway, a broken whimper tearing from your throat.
“Fuck,” Anton groaned, jaw clenched tight. His hands steadied your hips. “Take your time. You’re so tight.”
You took a shaky breath and forced yourself down the rest of the way. When you finally bottomed out, a loud, shameless moan ripped from your lips. You were completely full, the pressure making your vision blur.
Anton’s hands moved from your hips to rest flat against your lower stomach. His eyes widened.
“Look,” he commanded softly.
You opened your eyes. His large hand was pressed right over the faint, visible press of him against your lower bellythe subtle outline of how deep he was inside you.
“Hmm,” he breathed, thumb tracing the slight bulge. “You take me so well.”
You started to move, lifting and sinking at a slow, agonizing pace. The angle was incredibly deep, every downward thrust making you gasp. Anton watched with hunger, his hand staying firmly pressed against your stomach to feel every inch of himself filling you up.
After a few minutes, Anton let out a frustrated growl. He grabbed your hips and flipped you over in one fluid motion, pinning you face-down against the mattress.
Before you could process the change, he settled between your thighs, lifted your ass slightly, and drove into you from behind with a single, brutal thrust.
You screamed into the pillows. The angle was even deeper now, his broad chest pressing your back, his large hands gripping your hips like a vice.
“You feel so good,” he panted, pace turning frantic. He was relentless, hips snapping forward with bruising force, the wet slap of skin echoing loudly in the quiet room.
He reached around, his large hand sliding down your stomach to find your swollen clit. The moment his thumb pressed against it, your brain short-circuited.
“Anton—ah—wait—” Your voice cracked on a high, broken moan as he bottomed out inside you, thumb circling your clit simultaneously. “It’s too much—”
“You can take it,” he breathed against your ear, his voice thin, strained, almost whiny. “Fuck—you’re squeezing me so tight—” He let out a shaky, desperate sound against your neck. “Don’t stop.”
Your protests dissolved into loud, broken moans. He kept his pace hard and deep, each thrust dragging against oversensitive walls, pulling high, desperate sounds out of you.
“Oh my god—Anton—fuck—” You babbled, words slurring, fingers clawing the pillows. “I’m gonna—”
“Come for me,” he panted, voice breaking. His thumb pressed harder, hips stuttering as his breath came in ragged gasps. “Let me feel it. Come for me.”
You couldn’t hold back. The orgasm crashed into you—sharp, intense, ripping through you. You screamed his name, walls clamping down hard around him as your body convulsed.
The force dragged him over the edge. Anton let out a broken, wrecked cry against your shoulder, his whole body shuddering as he spilled deep inside you, hips jerking in shallow, desperate thrusts. He collapsed against your back, heavy, sweat-slicked body pinning you to the mattress, chest heaving.
Neither of you moved for a long time. Just the sound of ragged, uneven breathing filling the room, your bodies tangled together, both of you trembling.
He slowly pulled out of you, and before you could even process the emptiness, he was flipping you over onto your back. Your body was limp, boneless, and he moved you like you weighed nothing.
The sight of him above you knocked the air out of your lungs. His chest was flushed, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his lips swollen and parted. His broad shoulders blocked out the dim hotel light behind him, caging you in completely.
“Anton,” you whimpered, your thighs trembling around his waist. You were so sensitive it almost hurt. “I can’t—not yet—”
“Please,” he murmured, lowering himself until his forehead pressed against yours. Sliding his tip up and down your wet slit, and you felt him push back inside you—slow, agonizing. The stretch on your oversensitive walls made your eyes roll back, a broken moan dragging out of your throat.
“Oh—fuck—” Anton’s voice cracked the second he bottomed out, his whole body shuddering above you. His arms were trembling where they braced on either side of your head. “You feel so—god—” The words came out thin and strained, like he was barely holding himself together.
You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. Your hips bucked up against him involuntarily, and the friction made both of you moan.
He let out a shaky exhale that sounded more like a whimper. “Ngh—I’m not gonna last—”
He started to move anyway, slow and deep, his hips rolling into yours with a deliberate rhythm that had your back arching off the mattress. Every thrust dragged against your swollen walls, punching out sounds from your chest with every roll of his hips.
Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, pulling him deeper. A high, broken groan vibrated against your collarbone. “Fuck—baby—don’t do that—” His hips stuttered, his composure slipping. His voice pitched up at the end, needy and wrecked.
“Feels so good,” you whined, your head pressing back into the pillows. “So deep—Anton—ah” Your words dissolved into a trembling moan as he hit a spot inside you that made your vision blur.
You clenched around him on purpose. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, a choked whine spilling out of him as his hips jerked forward. “Please—” he gasped. “I’m trying to make this good for you and you’re—”
“It’s good,” you breathed, pulling his face up to yours. His eyes were glassy, his bottom lip bitten raw. “It’s so good.”
Something in him snapped. He hooked one hand under your knee, pressing your thigh up toward your chest, and the new angle made you scream. Your free hand flew to his back, nails raking down his spine. “Anton—I can’t— too much—” A sob cut off whatever you were going to say, your body arching off the bed.
His free hand found yours, lacing your fingers together and pinning your hand beside your head. He buried his face in your neck, broken moans muffled against your skin, your name slipping out of him over and over.
“Look at me,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.
You forced your eyes open. His face was inches from yours, his pupils blown wide, his jaw tight, his lashes wet. He looked completely undone.
“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Stay with me.”
“I’m gonna—” you whimpered, your walls fluttering around him. “Anton—I’m so close—”
Every time he bottomed out, a small, helpless sound punched out of his chest. His breathing was ragged, punctuated by quiet, whiny gasps every time you clenched around him.
“I’m close,” he choked out, his hips losing their rhythm. His hand squeezed yours tight. “Baby—please—”
“I’m coming—” you cried, your voice shattering into a broken moan as your body seized around him.
He came with a sound you’d never forget. A raw, wrecked cry that cracked in the middle, his body shaking as his hips pressed flush against yours and stayed there. The feeling of him pulsing inside you, the desperate way he clung to you, his broken whimpers against your neck—it dragged you over the edge with him, your second orgasm ripping through you in slow, devastating waves.
Neither of you moved for a long time after. Just the sound of ragged, uneven breathing, his body still covering yours completely. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the wetness of his breath against your skin.
When it finally subsided, you were boneless. Completely spent.
Anton slowly rolled off you, pulling you flush against his side. He wrapped his strong arms around you, tucking your head under his chin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand tracing soothing circles over your bare arm.
“You’re staying the night,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and satisfaction. It wasn’t a question.
You smiled against his chest, closing your eyes as the last of the adrenaline faded away. “Yeah.”
—
The next morning, sunlight was streaming through the sheer hotel curtains when you finally woke up. Anton was still asleep, his heavy arm draped securely over your waist, his face buried in your neck.
You carefully reached for your phone on the nightstand, wincing at the brightness of the screen. Your group chat was blowing up.
Shotaro: [Voice note: 0:25]
Yunjin: ????????????????
Yunjin: HELLO????
Sohee: lol
You smiled, typing out a quick I’m alive, tell you later before tossing the phone back down. You noticed Yunjin’s silver digi cam sitting on the nightstand. She must have slipped it into your bag before you left the venue.
Curious, you turned it on and clicked through the photos from last night. There was the one of you in the parking garage, the group photo Anton took, a blurry one of the stage, and then the one Yunjin had secretly taken of you on Anton’s shoulders.
“What are you looking at?” a rough, sleep-heavy voice mumbled against your skin.
You turned the camera off, sliding back down under the covers and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Nothing. Just pictures from yesterday.”
⌗SOUNDGASM — who would’ve thought that the EXTREMELY dom voice actor that you listen too was also the nerdy camera geek you’re working on a project
⧼ 🍰 ⧽ 一 pairing。 ⸝⸝ nsfwvoiceactor!anton x femcamgirl!reader 𓄵 genre smau contains! language, crack , heavy sexual content , jokes amongst friends { back to library } { part one. part two. part. three }
( yeni’s note ). broke this down into three parts 😊
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.
