#(there will be a reference to her in addendum) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingsoowolves · 1 month ago

Text

what comes after: (im)perfect for you | l. at

part one (w/ Sungchan) | part two

pairing: Boyfriend!Anton x fem!reader

word count: 19.6k

author's note: Wrote this while listening to a lot of Ariana Grande, her new album just got me addicted. I feel like the song eternal sunshine has lots to do with reader’s memories of her relationship with Sungchan whereas imperfect for you and ordinary things perfectly encapsulate how she and Anton love each other. I also threw in some references from bed chem, by Sabrina Carpenter, for the anon who asked for it a while ago. This is for everyone who requested part 2 and some vengeance/justice for the reader. Thank you all for the kind comments and for caring so much for this story. I hope you guys enjoy this and love this couple just as much as I do! Happy Anton day! ❤

contents: Smut, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort. 10 years time jump, ex-fwb!Sungchan cameo, regretful!Sungchan. Descriptions about messed up family dynamics, depression, anxiety attacks, taking meds and going to therapy. Insecure!Anton, mention of a safe word, possessive/jealous sex turned soft in the end, Anton talks about Sungchan during sex. Vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), squirting, vaginal penetration, petnames, reader sucks Anton's fingers like 3 times. Anton (lovingly) refers to reader as a "whore" once and as a "little slut" in another instance. Supreme aftercare!!! Anton and reader are so sweetly in love it gave me tooth ache — a bunch of praise, i love you's, healthy conversations, understanding and being silly with each other. And a happy ending, YAY!

extra info: This can be read as a standalone, but you might miss some backstory + clues from the first part. for the complete experience and understanding, I recommend checking out part one.

taglist: @shotaru-o @yoursyuno @dreamiestay @tonspresso @maripositaa @strawbrryvyy @hanniehq @sushimilks @severefireangelprune @kkyiu

you can also read this work on my ao3, if you'd like!

You’ve never been one to party much.

Although you did spend some years in college fooling around in parties and enjoying your youth, after graduation you’ve mostly stuck to bars, restaurants and small friend’s gatherings. When you finally hit thirty, the occasional affair became even more rare and you found yourself enjoying your time more inside your own home, either alone or with the ones you love.

But not tonight.

Tonight, you’re celebrating finally landing the promotion you’ve been aiming for for the past two years and you’re doing it in style. You’ve worked your butt off to get it and finally it paid off. You were already in talks with your boss for the past month about getting the higher position, but the news officially got delivered this morning and you signed the addendum to your contract in the afternoon, going over all the bureaucracies necessary so everything could be set in for next Monday. So you haven’t been able to meet your friends and commemorate it yet.

That’s why you’re currently at the most expensive nightclub in Seoul, texting your boyfriend to let him know you’ve just arrived. You send him your real-time location so he can find you inside the club and he replies saying he’s on his way. Then you move to your friends’ group chat, doing the same with them. You’ve just hit the button to send them your whereabouts, getting distracted while staring down your screen, when someone collides with you. Your arm brushes harshly against the person’s arm and some of their drink falls into your hands, also wetting your phone. You curse silently and shake your arm off, trying to get rid of the liquid as the person turns to you.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” a man’s voice says. You catch his silhouette in your peripheral vision while you look down to your phone, automatically trying to clean it on the fabric of your skirt. “Oh no. Here, let me help,” he offers, resting his drink on a small circular table near you and reaching for some napkins. He grabs your phone and starts cleaning it. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

You watch his knuckles while he wipes the device clean. Once he’s done, he hands you the phone back with a couple of napkins that you gladly take.

“Thank yo—” you try to say, but your voice gets stuck in your throat as you finally glance up to look at him.

He has a gentle smile on his face, seemingly distracted and ready to reply when he gazes back at you. He also pauses for a bit while his eyes scan all over your face, with no doubt recognizing you back.

And then, with a stunned face and wide eyes, he asks, “Y/N?”

No way.

There’s no damn way you’ve just stumbled upon Jung Sungchan nearly ten years after that dreaded ending of your relationship.

But it is him. Standing right in front of you in all his aggravating glory, at the club on the night you’re supposed to be filled with joy and nothing more.

It can only be a joke from destiny or God himself or whatever. Whoever’s the one who orchestrates the spinning wheels of your life must be having a pretty big laugh right now. And they are the only ones.

You sigh whilst you meet the soft brown orbs you haven’t seen for quite some time, feeling your heart constrict inside your chest. Looking at him, it’s hard not to get lost in awful old memories and all the trauma you already unpacked. But you decide that you won’t let this ruin your night. You’ll treat this brief encounter exactly as it is: a brief encounter. Nothing more.

As long as it ends right freaking now.

So you set your eyes hard and nod at him politely. “Sungchan,” is all you say, already moving to walk away from him. He doesn’t let you get very far, though, his hand closing over your elbow and stopping your steps.

Of fucking course he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. He never did before.

He seems almost suspended in the air, glancing up and down at you with his mouth slightly open while his fingers grip your skin firmly, no matter how much you try to pull your arm away. In another time, this action would drive a thrill through your spine. Right now, it only makes you feel annoyed and angry. So you rest your shoulders square and give him a pointed look. “Do you mind?” You say, looking at your arm and then back at him.

He does the same with his eyes, glancing to your arm and then back to you. Finally clarity takes over his features and he releases you, cleaning his sweaty palm on the front of his jeans after. “Sorry. I was just shocked — I am shocked. Wow, I haven’t seen you in so long. It’s nice stumbling into you.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, choosing to give him a closed lip smile instead. “Yeah, well… I actually have to meet someone, so—”

“Wait,” he exclaims suddenly and you flinch back before he even thinks of touching you again. He notices your reaction and switches back to his normal tone. “Sorry. I just wanted to catch up with you, you know? Like, how have you been? It’s been too long.”

It should’ve been longer, is what you think. But you’re still a polite woman and would not say something like that, even though that’s the phrase burning on the tip of your tongue when you finally access him. You wouldn’t walk away from him when he so clearly wants to chat either, even though that’s what you want and what he deserves. Alas, your parents raised you well enough to at least give him a proper reply.

“I’m great,” you say, curt and final while using the napkin still clutched in your hand to rub at the liquid he spilled on you. It smells like whisky, you realize. After cleaning yourself, you toss the crumpled napkin back at the tabletop he found it on. “You?”

“Yeah, I’ve been good,” he says, his voice wavering a little bit, high pitched and then low. Your hesitancy towards him and your little intention in staying in conversation with him is probably obvious by now and you’re sure he catches it all from your answer with how his cheeks flush and his arm goes to the back of his head to scratch at it.

Before you have a chance to make an escape again, he continues. “You look different — good different, I mean. Fuck, sorry.”

Seeing him this helpless, you can’t help the smile that forces its way on your face or the laughter that follows suit. You’ve never seen Sungchan so out of place before. He’s being so awkward, stuttering and apologizing over and over again. And it’s all because of you, for some weird reason. It’s kind of pathetic. A little endearing too, but mostly pathetic.

You cover your mouth to save some of his dignity and compel yourself to stop laughing. “Sungchan, that’s like the fifth time you apologized to me in under two minutes,” you say, giggles still bubbling on your throat. “Just be chill.”

Sungchan smiles at you, his features softening because of your laughter. “Sorry, I just—” he says, and your giggles break free again because of the new apology, interrupting him and making him laugh with you.

Once the mirth dies down, he tries again. “I guess I’m just nervous. And you’re not helping. You’re looking at me like you want me dead.”

“Well, I kinda do,” you reply back and he narrows his eyes at you like he’s analyzing if you’re joking or not. You quickly quell his worries by giving him a soft smile, deciding ultimately to take it easy on him. Keeping up the tough act would just drain your energy. It’s not worth it. “Sorry, that isn’t true. But it’s not like we ended things on good terms, so can you blame me?”

At your words, Sungchan makes a remorseful face, putting a hand on the front pocket of his pants and casting his eyes down. “I know. And it’s all my fault.” Then he looks up like he had the greatest idea in the world, gaze glinting whilst he steps closer to you. “But what if you let me buy you a drink and hopefully we end things on a better note this time?”

The end of his sentence kind of stuns you. You can’t quite believe that, after all this time, Sungchan is flirting with you. But of course he is, because it’s Sungchan. He’s showing all his telltale signs, too — bulging his arms slightly, lowering his voice, poking the tip of his tongue out to wet his lips then giving you a cocky smile, checking you out like he wants to eat you alive, his free hand hanging too damn close to yours. Unfortunately, you’ve come to know all of his tactics after falling victim to them one too many times.

His eyes are eager and hopeful whilst he waits for your response. You feel like an owner dangling a piece of meat in front of his pet, taunting him with something delicious while still not giving him anything. Finally, after all this time, you are the one in control.

But as much as your ego is being stroked, you don’t want any of this. Not anymore. And it’s been like this for a long time.

“No, thanks,” you reply simply.

Two seconds pass until he registers your answer and his smirk vanishes, the corners of his mouth turning down and self-doubt filling his eyes. He starts to say something that seems like another apology, but at that point you’re not hearing nor looking at him anymore. Because that’s when you see him.

All clad in denim and with his fresh neck-length black hair, your boyfriend is making his way through the mass of people in the club to reach you, your gazes finding each other at the same time. You instantly feel calmness seep into your veins, the slight discomfort provoked by your meeting with Sungchan vanishing and being replaced by excitement while you hold your breath until he reaches you. When he’s a mere meter away from you, you step around Sungchan to receive him.

“Hi, love,” he greets with a beautiful smile, stopping right in front of you. “I know, I’m late. Sorry, I got caught up in—”

You leap on him before he has the chance to finish his sentence, arms going around his frame, and he stumbles back because of the knock of your bodies together. He chuckles, winding his arms around your waist as you hold him closely against you, nestling your head between his neck and clavicle.

“I missed you, too,” he says with laughter still in his voice and grips you just as tightly. You bury your nose on his neck and inhale his soft woody cologne. Peace and happiness run through your whole body at rapid speed. “Fridays in the hospital are always crazy and the line to this place is insane. I’m sorry I’m late.”

You shake your head as you pull away slightly. “It’s fine, baby, you’re here now.”

That’s when you really look at him. The royal blue of his denim clothes suit his complexion and the black belt with a silver buckle around his hips compliment the look. His shirt’s sleeves are folded nicely up to his elbow, showing off his pretty forearms. Everything combined with his long hair and accessories give him a soft rocker aura that makes your mouth water.

It’s honestly unfair how extra good-looking he looks tonight. You feel the need to pounce on him right now, but you have to settle for giving him a peck and tugging on some of his strands while standing on your tiptoes.

“You look so good,” you whisper when your lips separate.

“You look so good!” He says, his eyes moving up and down your frame. “Real damn good! You got that Shiny New Miss Editor look!”

He moves his mouth to yours again and you smile against his lips, and then he’s spinning you around in his arms. You laugh loudly, hiding your face in his neck while his hands grip your hips, your legs dangling under you. After he completes three circles, you hit on his chest and ask him to stop, getting dizzy from happiness and being whirled. He puts you on your feet back and you try to balance yourself on your legs as he holds you up, pressing multiple kisses to your face. At this point, you’re laughing so much your cheeks start to hurt.

“I’m so, so, so damn proud of you, baby,” he says in between his stream of kisses. “Congrats, my love.”

“Thank you, baby,” you reply giggling, rearing back slightly and trying to escape his lips’ attack on your face. But he just follows you, still connecting his mouth to your skin repeatedly and making you lightheaded. “Wait, baby, I can’t breathe properly.”

Only then he stops, looking down at you with a huge smile on his face. You recompose yourself, putting your hair back into place and straightening your clothes.

When you finish, you put your hands around his neck again and mutter with sincerity, “I couldn’t have done it without you, babe.”

You’re about to kiss him again, but your little bubble of joy and love pops when someone coughs just behind your boyfriend. You look over his shoulders to find Sungchan still standing there, having witnessed all of your interaction. You sigh, annoyed with him again.

Does he ever catch a hint?

Of course, your partner, the politest person you’ve ever met, turns around to face Sungchan. The tip of his ears tinge pink at being caught by someone in such an intimate moment with you, but he quickly shakes it off to address the other man.

“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know Y/N was talking with someone. I’m Anton, her boyfriend,” he introduces himself sheepishly and extends his free hand to Sungchan, his other arm still clinging to you by his side. You want to take a bite out of him from how cute he looks, so adorable being courteous to a stranger while still having his cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

Sungchan looks at Anton’s hand for a moment before grasping it and you watch how their palms tightly press against each other, fingers bending while the veins in Anton’s forearm stand out and Sungchan’s bicep bulges slightly from the effort. It's a masculine showdown happening right in front of you.

“Hi, I’m Sungchan. I’m Y/N’s—”

“He’s a friend from college,” you interfere, looking at Anton to explain it to him. “Back when I studied law. I’ve told you about him.”

Sungchan gives you a sly smile, finally taking his hand away from Anton’s handshake and trying to discreetly flex his fingers. “Has she told you we used to hook up, too? Because it seems like she wants to hide it from you, dude.”

A flash of anger passes through Anton's eyes and a second later it’s gone. Even though his grip around your waist tightens, he keeps cool and collected, his posture relaxed while he moves his now free hand to his pants’ pocket. “Actually, she has. Aren’t you the one who traded her over for a freshman or some dumbass move like that, dude?” He asks, holding steady eye contact with Sungchan and plastering a shit-eating grin on his face.

You snicker into your fist as you watch the arrogance flee from Sungchan’s features. He presses his lips together and drops his gaze down in dismay. Anton’s smile turns triumphal, knowing he had won the confrontation between the two of them. Then he turns to you with sweet eyes and you think it’s the hottest thing ever how he can change from harsh to tender in the blink of an eye.

“Baby, I’m going to grab you a drink while you speak with your friend, okay?” He says, rubbing your arms up and down. You plead him with your gaze to not to be left alone with Sungchan, the long time you’ve been together making it easy to talk with only your eyes, but Anton shakes his head almost imperceptibly, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder. “You want your usual?”

You sigh, defeated, and nod your head. “Yes, please.”

“You got it,” he says, bending down to kiss your lips and then your forehead. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

When Anton walks away, you finally turn to Sungchan again. He has his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes are looking behind you, with no doubt still analyzing your boyfriend as he scurries to the bar. Only now you give yourself the chance to take him in. He looks good, in a fitted white t-shirt, black leather pants and a matching dark jacket. The same as ever. Still handsome, only older, just like you. And definitely a little bit buzzed, enough to make a move on you and irritate your usually peaceful partner.

Sugchan’s eyes jump back to you. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he says, and you half expect him to make a snide remark about Anton, but he just completes his observation with, “He seems like a good guy.”

You smile and look over your shoulders, catching a glimpse of Anton already at the end of the line to the bar. He’s pretending to scroll through his phone and stealing glances at you and Sungchan, trying so hard to seem nonchalant while simultaneously watching you like a hawk. It’s freaking adorable and you make a mental note to tease him about it later. When his eyes meet yours, he lifts his eyebrows up and mouths, “What?”. You just wink at him and turn back to the conversation with Sungchan, still smiling.

“He’s a really good guy,” you answer him.

Sungchan nods, carefully watching your reaction. “You seem happy.”

Your smile becomes bigger. “I am happy.”

His eyes tremble slightly after your reply. Then he tilts his head to the side and relaxes his posture, arms going back to his sides. “You’re a book editor now?”

You’re taken aback that he actually heard everything you and Anton talked about. You were too overcome with joy to pay attention to anything else or care about being too loud.

“Yeah. I’ve been working with Gimm-Young since graduation,” you explain. “They offered me the promotion this morning.”

He listens to you with attentive eyes, nodding his head. “I remember Sohee told me back in college that you switched majors. I was really glad for you. But, wow, now you got an editor position at a big publishing house. And while you’re pretty young, too. Congratulations, Y/N. You made it.”

You’re shocked by his praise, but you take it nonetheless. And then pieces of memories you had with him flood your mind. Back then, you talked to him about your dream, showed him some of your writing and expressed doubts and insecurity on really going for it. In turn, he listened to your worries attentively, read and praised your works and spurred you on to go for what you wanted.

You scrunch your eyebrows up and look down at your feet, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden memories. Maybe Sungchan was an asshole, but he was a supportive asshole.

“Thank you,” you say, your eyes shifting back to him again. “I remember you— You encouraged me to study Lit back then, Sungchan. It was really meaningful at the time.”

He shakes his head. “Well, I’m not taking credit for your obvious hard work, Y/N.”

“I’m not giving you credit,” you say pointedly and he laughs. “I’m just saying thanks, I guess? For hearing me and supporting me back then.”

He shakes a hand in front of him, like he’s declining your explanation. “Hey, there’s no need for that. That’s the least I could do, really. You were great back then and I’m sure you're even better now.”

“Well, maybe you’ll read one of my editing works one day,” you say with a smile.

“Maybe.” He smiles back at you. “Or one of your books. I assume you’re still writing.”

“I am,” you confirm. “But that’ll still take a while to come to fruition.”

“When it does, can your first fan hope for an invite to your first book release party?” He asks, obviously referring to himself as your first fan, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You can’t help but laugh at his antics. He’s showing the playful Sungchan you saw on occasion and the nostalgia gets to you. “We’ll see when the time comes.”

He nods with a smile. Then a beat later he’s stepping closer and the atmosphere turns serious, his sorrowful eyes gazing at you. “Y/N, I want you to know I’m very sorry for how I behaved with you back when we were together.”

You can’t hide the astonishment on your face, being caught unprepared for this.

“I know it probably sounds like shit right now, but I cared for you. You really were special to me, even though I didn’t show it,” he barrels on. “You are a sweet girl, Y/N. You didn’t deserve what I did. I regret it every day since.”

The sincerity of his surprising words hits you right in the chest and you have to inhale deeply to prepare yourself for a response despite the shock.

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s fine, Sungchan. I already worked everything out in therapy anyway.”

It’s the truth, you did work everything out in therapy. And despite being annoyed by meeting him tonight at first, you realize you really have no hard feelings towards Sungchan anymore. You’ve already come to the understanding that whatever happened back then, it wasn’t because of your actions, feelings or words. It wasn’t because you were undeserving of his love. He just couldn’t give it to you, for whatever personal reason he had. What happened was Sungchan’s responsibility, his guilt to carry, not yours. And, from what he’s saying, he acknowledges how carelessly he treated you and that finally puts you at peace with that chapter of your life.

“My therapist thinks you’re an asshole, by the way,” you say, trying to lighten the mood.

“Something both me and your boyfriend can agree on, too, apparently,” he says with a chuckle, balancing forwards and backwards on his feet a little. “Well, I won’t keep you from him any longer. I have to wallow in self-pity right now because I let the successful Gimm-Young editor slip from my fingers.”

You scoff, not believing his words at all. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re really sad about it,” you say ironically.

He probably has a long line of eager girls wanting to be his girlfriend, anyway. You’re just glad you’re not one of them anymore.

You stand there with him for a beat, smiling about it. Then, his gaze shifts to something vulnerable and he gulps his saliva down, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he speaks again. “So, just to be sure… If you didn’t have someone, would you still— Well, would you consider—”

You catch on to what he’s trying to ask pretty quickly and reply before he embarrasses himself further by completing the sentence. “Yup, I’d still reject you. That ship sailed a long time ago, pal.”

Because of his failed flirting attempt, you try to concentrate and search for the body reactions you used to have whenever he’d sweet-talked you in the past. But there’s no heat on your face and limbs anymore, no goosebumps on your arms, no itch in your hands from wanting to touch him, no more sweat accumulating on your hairline and no tingling on your body. It’s all gone. The only thing you feel left for him is a quiet sentimentalist from what you shared during your college days that translates into a soft but lingering pang in your heart. Nothing more.

“Okay, I just had to try,” Sungchan says with a blush on his cheeks and a glazed over look in his eyes. “I should probably go now… before your boyfriend’s eyes actually turn into red lasers and open a hole through me.”

You look behind you one more time to see that he’s right. Anton is tapping his fingers on the bar countertop while he waits for your drink to be made, his eyes completely focused on both of you, not even pretending like he doesn’t care anymore. He does kinda look like he might commit attempted murder at any moment. You send him a kiss despite his sour face.

“I’m sure he treats you better than I ever could, anyway,” Sungchan completes.

You look back to answer him. “That’s not very hard to accomplish, but yes, he does,” you tease with a smile.

Sungchan smiles back at you. “Yeah, I deserved that one.” He sighs and shakes his head, rubbing a hand on his neck. “Thank you for talking with me. It was nice seeing you.”

“You too, Sungchan,” you reply sincerely.

He’s about to walk away, but then he halts his movements, looking at you one more time. “Oh, and Y/N? I really hope you’re happy.”

You nod and smile at him. “I really am, Sungchan.”

“Then I’m glad,” he says with finality, gazing at you one last time and starting to turn around.

However, just before Sungchan can fully spin around, your eyes catch the glimmer of a metallic chain connected in between two of his jeans’ belt loops. Beside it, in his front loop, dangles a keychain with three trinkets hanging from the same clasp — a burger charm, a soccer ball one and, if your eyes aren’t failing you, one very familiar lilac polka dotted scrunchie.

You smile to yourself after the keychain is out of your line of sight.

Maybe you really were special to him once.

While you watch Sungchan’s retreating back, you’re taken by an abrupt feeling. It’s not the anxiety and dread you used to feel whenever he left you or the longing that always took over you. It’s something keen to relaxation and comfort, like the sense you get when you meet an old friend or are wrapped up in a warm fuzzy blanket on a cold winter night. There’s a tinge of nostalgia mixed with the emotion flowing from the place right behind your chest and spreading through your limbs.

When you can’t see him anymore, you take a deep breath and think that what you’re feeling is relief.

Only when Anton comes to you again with a few of your friends in tow right after, you completely understand the emotion. With your best friends squealing around you in a circle, giving you their congratulations about your promotion, and Anton smiling at your side, looking at you as if you hung the moon and the stars in the night sky, you feel pure, absolute and unrestrained joy.

“Did you know you are the most perfect boyfriend ever?”

Anton is clearly taken aback by your sentence. He has just helped you get inside his car and buckled your seat belt for you, humming happily when you lean close to press a kiss to his cheek. After showing bewilderment, he smiles, a small blush appearing on his cheeks because of your praise. It’s the cutest thing ever.

“Thank you, baby,” he says, the smile still lingering on his lips. “You’re the most perfect girlfriend ever, too.”

He leans in to give you a quick peck, but as he backs away, you put a hand on his nape to keep him there, following his mouth with your own until your lips are pressed together again. It only lasts five seconds, but it’s enough to make you whine when he pulls away completely.

Anton laughs at you and straightens up from his bent down position, getting his upper body out of the car. He closes the passenger door carefully, then comes around to the driver’s side, opening the door to get inside.

He’s the designated driver for tonight, choosing to opt out of drinking so you could relax and have fun with your friends while he made sure you were safe and back home without any scratches. Being the perfect boyfriend that he is, of course he made sure your friends would get home safe, too, calling them a cab on his own phone and waiting it out with you until their taxi arrived before getting you both inside his car.

Once he’s buckled in, he turns the key in the ignition and the car springs to life. He gives you a soft smile before turning on his blinkers to safely enter the lane. In no time, you’re on the road to your home and your hands are tangled together over the center console.

“You want to stop by somewhere to grab food?” He asks after a while.

You shake your head. “I don’t feel hungry right now. Can we order in later?”

“Of course, baby.” He looks over to you for a brief moment before fixating his eyes back on the road, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “You know, after four years of dating, I found out something new about you today.”

“Oh, did you?” You reply, leaning onto his teasing words. “What is it?”

“You’re a party girl,” he states accusingly, making you laugh.

“What? No, I’m not,” you say, trying to be firm and serious, but your words get interrupted by a giggle. You scrunch up your nose because of your own mistake.

Anton just chuckles at you as he makes a turn on a street. “Tell that to the four shots you downed today, babe.”

You squint your eyes, pinching his wrist lightly, and he gives you a little groan. “Hey, I was celebrating today! Can’t a new promotee have a few shots?”

His eyes glint while he tightens his hold on your hand. “Yes, you can, love. I’m just teasing.”

“Well, don’t tease me, Anton.” You scrunch your eyebrows up and make a frown, pretending to be angry. “It’s my promotion day. You’re not allowed to tease me!”

“Sorry, Miss Editor, I forgot. No teasing for today, got it,” he says, letting your hand go to make a fake army salute. You laugh and squeeze his bicep in reprieve, and he chuckles with you.

“You’re a menace,” you say, letting him take your hand in his again just as the car slows down to stop at a traffic light.

You take the moment to pull his hand to your lips, pressing soft kisses on his knuckles as your eyes meet his. “Thank you for being with me today, baby,” you whisper over his skin and you smile to yourself when goosebumps rise in his forearm. “And for taking care of me and my friends.”

Anton moves the hand you’re kissing to your face, rubbing his fingers over your cheekbone, and you lean into his touch. “Of course, baby. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I love you so much,” you confess as you start to drop kisses into his open palm now, your lips lingering a bit too long over the tip of his thumb.

“I love you, my girl,” he says, pinching your cheek.

You wish you could do more to show him how much you actually appreciate him being who he is. But the light on the stoplight turns green and you have to reluctantly stop yourself from touching him a little more boldly over road safety. You’ll have plenty of time to make him feel loved once you get home.

You roll your window down and tilt your face towards the chilly wind as you think about how you really did hit the jackpot with Anton. You’ve met him at your job, while you were working in a book launch party from one of your company’s authors, helping out the social media crew that was currently short-staffed and busy.

In your position as an assistant editor, you’ve worked pretty closely with the author launching her book before. Your chief editor trusted you completely and let you bounce ideas back and forth with her, so you knew each other pretty well. Anton was the author’s cousin and when she introduced you to him at the release party, there was buzzing excitement in her eyes. She told you how he was a Korean-American that moved back to Seoul with his brother for medical school. Currently in his last year of college, he had been studying nonstop to get his professional license after it, so he needed a night off to relax and that’s why she ended up inviting him to the party. He had on a nice white jacket that complimented his thick shoulders and when he talked with you, you couldn’t help but be somewhat captivated by such a soft voice coming out of such a broad body, his cute accent making him even more adorable.

Later that night, when the party was already fizzling out and your body started to hurt from standing on high heels for too long, he approached you again. When you complained about the ache on your feet, he found a free chair for you to sit on. And when you laughed about something he said, he asked for your number. He looked too damn cute bouncing up and down between his two long legs while you typed your digits on his phone. And after your contact was saved, he pressed call so you could have his number, too.

When a colleague called you to help with something else, Anton pouted adorably because you had to go so soon. Before you went away, the tip of his fingers brushed against yours for a brief fleeting moment and he made a promise to contact you soon. The next morning, you woke up with a text from him on your phone, asking what type of food you enjoyed so he could take you out on a date.

It took a few dates and a couple of sincere conversations about both of your expectations in a relationship before you and Anton made it official. Since the beginning, he never let his intentions be misunderstood. From the first date, he made it very clear he was interested in you as a whole person, not parts of you. He didn’t want to have your body if he didn’t get to have your soul either. He has taken you seriously since then. After the fifth time you went out together, you brought him home with you. You still remember the image of him hovering above you, cheeks and neck flushed while he stared at you deeply, telling you in the softest voice ever how he wanted you to be his girlfriend. He made you feel secure, the sincerity in his tone helping you to never doubt his words. And when he used that same feathery intonation of his to coax out of you the most powerful orgasm you ever had in your life, you were done for. You wholeheartedly handed yourself out for him and he did the same right back.

You’re together for almost five years now and Anton has been with you through thick and thin. He deeply enjoyed the sheer joy in your mom’s face when you brought him up to meet your family. She kept going on and on about how tall and good-looking and young and amazing your doctor boyfriend was. Nothing you ever did in your life before made her as happy as introducing him as your partner and it felt nice seeing him being appreciated by your loved ones. Either way, whenever your family dinners took a turn and your father would try to convince you to study law again and become a judge like him and your mother would make poisonous comments about the amount of food on your plate, all while your sister boasted about her successful career as a lawyer, taking occasional jabs at you for giving up on it, Anton rubbed circles on the back of your hand under the table, soothing the ache he knew you felt about not being understood by your own flesh and blood, showing that he understands and sees you better than anyone.

Anton was with you during your grandfather’s funeral and one month after it, when your little dog died unexpectedly of a quiet illness. He hugged you and listened to you as you sobbed and babbled on for hours about how unfair death was. When your eyes became red and your throat sore, he wrapped you up in a blanket and held you firmly until you slept.

He was beside you during your depressive slumps, letting you sleep your exhaustion out for how long you needed to and not pressing you on about it, having food ready and plated for you when you woke up. When you made a mild mistake during work and got afraid of being fired, he encouraged you to talk to your boss and fix the problem, helping you come up with a plan to gain back her trust again. He was also with you when your brother married one of your best friends and when they told you they got pregnant. When you were announced as the child’s future godmother, he cried tears of happiness with you.

Anton bragged about you during his family dinners, telling his parents how brave you were for changing career paths and accomplishing so much in so little time and mentioning how he hoped his little brother would find a partner as amazing as you. He made sure your relationship with his parents was as lovely and safe as possible and you are constantly doted on by his family because of it.

Three months after your psychiatrist dosed down on your depression meds, he prepared you a homemade dinner and told you how proud he was of you for battling such a devious disease and pushing through despite all of your struggles.

And when he got anxiety attacks during his time studying for the surgery residency program, you taught him your methods to push through them and made him an appointment with your doctor. You were beside him, helping him work through his fears and the tension. When he got in the program, you were the first person he called. And he was also the number one on your call list when you got your promotion earlier today.

Whenever his sinusitis would flare up, you were also the one by his side, watching on his health, making sure he took his meds, making him tea and helping him with nebulizing.

Sometimes, when your bad thoughts get the best of you, you feel like you don’t deserve him. You think he’s too good to be true, that he does more for you than you do for him and that he’ll grow tired of it and drop you like so many have done in the past. On times like that, Anton always tells you he’s the lucky one for having you on his side and the sincerity dripping from his lips and eyes always scare your doubts away. You believe in him even when you don’t believe in yourself. He makes you see how you bring out the best out of each other. And when any of you are feeling down, you both always feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable.

There’s no pressure to be perfect with Anton. You can make mistakes and try again how many times it takes. And he does the same. Despite you seeing him as a pretty perfect man, Anton also messes up, like any normal human being. And you do the same. Over and over and over again.

Sometimes you speak with him a little too roughly. Or he gives you the silent treatment when things don’t go his way. Or you wake up in a bad mood and take it out on him. Or, on the same day, he forgets to take out the trash from your shared place and you arrive late to an important work dinner of his. You argue and get mad and upset like any other couple. But each time it happens, you talk it out. And he never leaves you alone in your relationship struggles, always meeting you halfway to solve the matter.

The thing is you accept each other, the good and the bad and the in-between. No feelings or thoughts are invalidated or dismissed. He makes you confident and comfortable in your own skin. And you like to think you do the same for him.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s handsome and jacked, too, his swimming career in school building up his muscles nicely to the man he is today. That’s what you’re thinking about while he takes the final turn to enter your apartment building, parking the car on his spot with one hand on the steering wheel and the other one still gripping yours tightly, attentive eyes checking the car mirrors.

His shirt hangs nicely on his body and the two top buttons under its collar are undone, showing his clavicle and a hint of his chest. You lick your lips and breathe through your nose deeply, trying to settle the buzz deep in your belly while you admire him. When he’s done parking, he catches his jacket and your purse on the backseat and gets out, making his way to open your door and offering you his hand to help you out of the car. You grab it and step out carefully. Once you’re securely out of the car, he closes your door and rests his jacket over your shoulders, helping you to slip your arms through the sleeves. Then, with your purse still over his arm, he locks the car and grips your hand, leading you both on the walk to the lobby to call for the elevator.

You squeeze his hand with both of yours and lean your head onto his arm while you wait for the lift, appreciating his presence, warmth and attention.

“I’m glad you had fun today, baby,” he whispers and you tilt your head up to find his eyes already searching for yours.

You smile at him. “So much fun. I’m so happy, Anton.”

His eyes shine seeing the true joy exuding from your body. “If my girl is happy, I’m happy.”

His admission makes you want to get closer, so you turn to stand in front of him, tugging slightly on his shirt collar to get him to bend down over you. “Thank you, baby.”

“For what?” He asks, an eyebrow shifting slightly up.

“For being happy for me and with me. For celebrating with me today,” you say, looking deep into his eyes.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, baby,” he whispers while his arms cross over your waist, pressing your body against his. “I want to celebrate this and so much more with you.”

“Yeah?” You mutter back, getting on your tippy toes as you watch him with hooded eyes. “Like what?”

He slides one hand up to rub your face, pulling you in to speak over your cheek. “Like when you get the editor-in-chief position next.” He drops a kiss on your cheekbone and moves his lips to your jaw next. “And when I finish my residency.” A new kiss is laid on your chin and another one on the corner of your mouth. “Then our engagement, our wedding…”

“Ahh, so you do plan on proposing,” you tease, leaning back to get your face out of reach from his lips. “It’s taking so long I’m starting to think you’re just stringing me along.”

Anton tightens his hold on your waist. “Stop it, you know I’m planning on it.” He moves his free hand to your nape to pull you close again, his lips one more time landing on your cheek. “You’ll just have to wait and see. It will be perfect. You’ll bawl your eyes out.”

“With how easy you get emotional, I think you’ll be the one bawling, Tonie,” you say, pulling on his hair a little while he rasps his teeth on the side of your neck.

“Oh, for sure,” he says, his voice muffled by his lips constantly pressing on your skin. “We’ll both be crying messes once the ring is on your finger.”

You chuckle at him and pull his head back to look at him, watching his mouth become an adorable pout at being denied kissing you more. “I can’t wait for this mysterious proposal, then.”

Anton’s pout turns into a wide smile. “I can’t wait to wife you up.”

You smile back at him, the thought of being his wife, of calling him your husband sending butterflies flying in your stomach.

The elevator finally arrives then, and you both get inside. Anton presses the number for your floor and slumps against its wall before the lift begins to move up, his arms settling around you and pressing you to his body again. You wind your arms around his shoulders and press a kiss onto his clavicle, making him groan, his hips instinctively moving forward to press against yours.

“Aren’t you eager today?” You mutter, looking up to find a flush creeping onto his cheeks. “What has gotten into you?”

“You’re just so happy right now. And I want to make you even happier.” He holds you flush against him while he nuzzles his nose against yours. “Wanna make you feel so good…”

“Oh.” You press your lips to his quickly, smoothing your thumbs on the sides of his neck. “I’d like that very much.”

“Plus, I’ve been thinking about something…” he says, gaze holding yours steady, building tension.

“Thinking about what?” You whisper, the expectation blooming on your chest.

Anton doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he moves his face to drop kisses on your shoulder, his nose skimming under the jacket so his lips can reach your skin. He trails a path of kisses from your right shoulder until the place under your right ear, nibbling on your lobe while you whine. That’s when he finally replies, his breath blowing over the damp skin he just kissed, “Thinking about being a little possessive tonight, a little harsh…”

His words make your breathing heavy and warmth spread through your body. You tug on his hair, your mind getting dazed from his teasing. “Like, you wanna be mean?”

He shakes his head and places his hand on your face, stroking your cheekbone. “Not mean. Just taunt you, mess with your mind a little.”

“Oh,” you whimper, pressing your thighs together while mulling it over your mind, remembering all the times he teased you in bed and how it always made you feel. “I like it when you do that.”

“I know you do, baby,” he whispers, moving his mouth to your jaw. “You always get so—”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, your voice a little high pitched, suddenly feeling self-conscious of being this close to him and thinking dirty things in the elevator. You can only hope there’s no audio on the camera by the corner that’s aimed directly at you both.

You hide your face on Anton’s neck and he snickers at you. “So, you’re up for it?”

You nod, the embarrassment shining red on your cheeks and heating your skin. “Sure, let’s do it.”

Anton rests his chin on top of your head and digs his fingers on your hips as he squeezes you against him. “If you dislike something, you remember the word, right?”

“Pineapple,” you say against his skin, reciting your safe word to him so he knows you remember.

“Good girl,” he purrs, tightening his grip on you.

When the elevator finally dings and its doors open on your floor, you and Anton both scramble up to get to your apartment as fast as possible.

As you type the code for your door, you think about how the night was fun enough until now. You drank cocktails, danced to songs, hugged your friends, screamed your lungs out in happiness and enjoyed your time. It was really really good. But there’s only one thing left to end this perfect day, one thing left to take the fun to the next level. It’s the one thing that’s been nagging at your mind, body and soul the whole time you were at the nightclub. The only thing you can think about after that spicy elevator ride — having Anton all to yourself.

So when the both of you cross the threshold of your place and take your sneakers off and your purse is out of Anton’s hand, you corner him into your entry door, kissing him fervently, slipping his jacket off your body and dropping it to the ground. Anton responds in kind, pressing his lips to yours just as hastily. When your tongue traces his bottom lip, he opens his mouth for you to invade it with, and when you stroke his tongue, he groans.

“You look so fucking good today,” you whisper on his lips, your fingers deftly undoing his shirt buttons. “I wanted to jump your bones the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

“You look so beautiful too, baby,” he mutters back at you, complimenting you with his soft-spoken voice and gentle demeanor.

Your sweet, loving, kind man. You love him so much.

When you kiss him again and your nails scratch over the exposed skin of his chest, he moans, sliding his hands down your ass and pressing your body against his. You gasp from the feeling of his dick already twitching and fully erect inside his pants, your mouth opening up in surprise. He takes the moment to kiss you again, licking the inside of your mouth and biting your bottom lip, pulling on it a little before releasing it.

“I kept thinking about being inside you the whole time we were out, too,” he says with his lips over your neck, nipping on your pulse point. He licks the place and speaks against the moistness, making your skin jump. “I’m gonna fuck you so good today, Miss Editor.”

Your filthy, dirty, hot man. You love him so much.

You whimper from his words, trembling hands trying to finish unbuttoning his shirt. Before you can, Anton is lifting you up on his lap, and you yelp in surprise. You both giggle as he strides towards your bedroom and supports you with his hands on your ass, but you give up on laughing in favor of kissing him again, your lips becoming moist with spit. You don’t know how Anton manages to find your room while he keeps kissing you, but in just a few seconds he’s laying you over your silky sheets.

You stretch on the bed, moving further back until you’re positioned in the middle. Anton stands in front of you while he opens the rest of his shirt and you watch as more of his skin is revealed. After he’s done with it, he unbuckles his belt and opens his fly, showing the bulge under his boxers. You lick your lips at the sight.

He leaves his pants on, though, and kneels on the bed, crawling over until he reaches you. You sit up to run a hand on his front, from his chiseled pecs to his taut abs until it stops on his happy trail on his lower stomach.

He bends down to kiss you and your arms go around his shoulders to pull his shirt away from him completely. Anton helps you slide the fabric off his arms and once you throw it on the floor, his hands are pulling up your top over your head, your shirt also being off in an instant. Then he’s pressing his body on yours and laying you back on the mattress.

“God, would you look at you,” he says once your head is resting on the pillows, tracing a hand over your stomach and raising goosebumps over your skin, eyes shining while he looks at your chest. “So fucking pretty. I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

There’s a reverent and low tone to his voice that always turns your insides into mush on moments like this. You press your legs against each other from the praise and tighten your grip on his shoulders, trying to kiss him one more time to show how much you appreciate it, but Anton rears back slightly, his eyebrows shooting up and eyes encouraging you to say what he wants to hear.

“I’m all yours, Tonie,” you say with heavy breathing and he smiles approvingly. “Only yours.”

“Yeah, baby?” He mutters, his hand covering your boob over your bra. You gasp while he squeezes your flesh. “Seeing your past fling today didn’t confuse you? You didn’t think about leaving me for him, did you?”

It’s like a bucket of icy cold water is thrown on you. Anton’s words shock you to the core and you look at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Thinking about being a little possessive, he said. You never thought it would show up like this, though. You played with jealousy in bed before, of course, but it was always with creative scenarios — celebrities, fictional characters, strangers in the street, unnamed imaginary people. The line was drawn at real people in your life. You’ve never considered using any of your exes, friends or close acquaintances.

But Anton is changing that now by talking about Sungchan and your meeting with him earlier. And you know him well enough to decipher his words and body language, to know that he’s jealous. For real.

Even though he has no reason to be.

Honestly, Sungchan was the furthest thing from your mind all night, your encounter with him long forgotten while you had the time of your life with Anton and your friends. You can’t quite believe your amazing boyfriend is actually insecure about it. But he is.

You blink up at him, still stunned to silence, and Anton sighs, annoyed by your lack of response. “Did you, love?” He asks again, squeezing your breast a little harder.

The action springs you to life. “I— No, no, baby. Not at all,” you stutter out as he pulls down the lacey cup of your bra and circles his forefinger around your areola. “What made you— shit, what made you think that?”

Anton pinches your nipple then, making you arch your back and moan. ”I just think you spent too much time talking. Seemed like you were having fun, too, smiling and flirting with him.” He ends his sentence with another press on your nipple, harder than the last one, rolling the bud in between his thumb and forefinger to soothe the ache right after whilst you pant under him.

“I wasn’t flirting,” you defend yourself quickly. “I mean, he was flirting, but I didn’t—”

“Oh, was he, baby?” He asks, eyebrows going up. “And how did you respond to his flirting?”

Anton’s eyes are dark, hooded and lust-filled while he waits for your answer. There’s something about the jealousy and possessiveness he’s exuding that makes you whimper, feeling the release of more arousal into your panties. He looks so fucking hot. But you can’t have him thinking that you would trade him for Sungchan. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“I rejected him. I’m with you and he saw it. I told him how happy you make me,” you stutter. Anton just looks at you, analyzing your words in silence. It fills your heart with desperation. “Baby, I didn’t even think about him after that, I promise.” You reach your hands towards his face, but he remains out of reach, making you paw at the air. “There’s no reason to be jealous, Anton.”

He scoffs at you, tweaking your nipple one more time while his other hand goes around your chin, gripping it tightly. You moan loudly at the action and his thumb starts to trace over your areola again when he speaks. “I’m not jealous.” He hovers above you again and presses his nose to yours, looking down your eyes. “But he sure seemed like he was, talking shit about you two hooking up in the past. Like he had the right to act territorial over you when you’re my girl.”

“Baby, I don’t want to talk about him now,” you plead, your words coming out jumbled from the way he’s now pressing his fingers on your cheeks. At seeing your struggle, he loosens his grip a little and you’re able to speak better. “Please, let’s just—”

“So, what more did you tell him about me?” He asks, purposely interrupting you and ignoring your plea at the same time.

“I told him you’re amazing. And that you treat me so well, that I love you so much,” you babble out, mind racing trying to remember everything you said.

“Hmmm, and what else?” He says, his face still so close to yours.

”What do you mean, what else?” You gulp down, looking up at him.

Anton softens at your question, smoothing his fingers over your features and kissing on your pulse point. Then he descends, sucking on the upper part of your boob, tongue slipping out to flick your nipple. “I mean, did you tell him about this?” His hand moves to your other breast, still bra covered, blunt nails scratching the fabric down so his thumb can press on your nipple. “Or about this?”

Fuck. Anton wants you to lie.

Actually, he wants you to pretend like you’ve told Sungchan about your sex life, that Anton’s so good at it you boasted about his skills to your past affair. What he wants is an ego boost, to know that he’s still the only one that gets to have you like this. So much so that you needed to tell your ex how he makes you his.

It’s a little crazy. And adorable. And fucking hot.

“I did,” you whisper and Anton purrs on your neck, his hips grinding down on yours. “I told him how you always make me feel so good, how your fat cock stretches me just right.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, sinking his teeth on your skin. You tug on his hair while bucking your pelvis up to meet his. You love the way he melts into you so easily, how just a little praise gets him weak, even when he’s the one in control. It always makes you confident.

“I told him I’m too obsessed with how you fuck me to ever think about leaving you, baby,” you whisper in his ear, one hand going down to press on his ass so he can drive his hips down harder, the stimulation on your clit over all the clothes getting to you. “And that I’d never trade you for him, not in a million years.”

After that, Anton kisses you with so much force your teeth clash together. But you don’t care about it, letting him kiss you while you grip on his shoulders and press on his back so he keeps grinding down on you. You only break for air when he unfastens your bra, going right back into kissing him while he slides the straps down your arms and takes the button of your skirt out of its loop.

Anton pulls back to tug on the bottom of your skirt and you help him out by pulling your waistband down and wiggling your hips until the item is out of your body. You’re almost laid bare before him and he rests a firm hand on your lower stomach while he drinks you in, his other hand reaching up to cup your breasts, one after the other and then back again. You see his dick jump inside his underwear as his eyes devour you.

“Fuck, you look so pretty when you’re like this for me,” he says and you moan at him, hands trying to coax him back into putting his weight on you. “My perfect girl with her perfect body,” he praises, his free hand going up your body until his fingers meet your lips. He doesn’t need to command you to take them. You do it willingly, opening your lips to suck on his index and middle fingers greedily. Anton hums in approval. “Perfect mouth and tongue.” He pulls his fingers from your mouth and moves them over to your right boob, brushing wetness on your areola before moving to your left one and doing the same. “Perfect tits.” He slides his hand down still, navigating it through the valley between your breasts and the plush flesh of your stomach until it brushes over the waistband of your panties. He caresses over the top of the fabric, and you try not to whimper pathetically or squirm too much. Then, he finally slips his hand in between your legs, cupping your cunt harshly over your underwear. “And perfect pussy.”

“Baby, please,” you moan out. “Please touch me.”

He snickers at your desperate state, but hooks his fingers on the sides of the elastic band and pulls them down. You release a deep breath when the underwear is finally off you and another one when Anton’s hands go back to your body. “Fuck, imagine if Sungchan could see you right now, love,” he says, his right hand coming back to one of your nipples to pinch it again as his left one strokes the inside of your thighs. “If he could watch how much of a pathetic mess you get for me. So fucking desperate.”

“Anton,” you moan as his hand inches closer to your heat and he presses his palm on your left thigh to separate it from your right one, spreading you open before him.

“I wish he could hear how pretty you sound while you whimper my name like that, baby,” he says, moving his free hand to your bottom lip again and tapping on it. You open up, taking three of his fingers into your mouth now, licking over them and sucking on them. He presses his digits deep, reaching for your throat and you gag on them, but still don’t let him pull them from your mouth, closing your hands over his wrist to keep them there. “I wish he could watch you suck on my fingers and gag on them just like that, my perfect girl.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth as fast as he slipped them in, getting his hand out of your hold and moving his damp digits to your pussy. You almost let out a squeal when he rubs on your clit, spreading your legs further apart for him. You look at his face while he watches the movements he makes on your cunt, his other fingers rubbing over your folds as his thumb keeps pressing on the nub on top of it. “I wish he could see how wet you are right now. You’re going to soak our sheets, love.”

You bite on your lip, gripping the sheets and planting the soles of your feet on the mattress while he remains kneeled in between your legs bringing you pleasure. “It’s your fault. You always get me so wet. I’ve been like this since the elevator.”

“Hmmm, I know, baby,” he mutters appreciatively, eyes glued to the juices sticking to your cunt, his fingers noisily working over you. “You’re so naughty. Can’t help getting horny for me anywhere, right?”

You nod, biting on the inside of your cheek now, moving your hips slowly with the movements from his hand. “Yeah. I want you all the time.”

“Fuck,” he groans and you see his dick jumping against the wet patch forming on his underwear. “I think Sungchan would love seeing how much of a whore you become for me.”

“Just for you, baby,” you affirm between moans.

Anton’s gaze slides up to yours again whilst he starts to massage over your hole, the jealousy in it now fizzling out, leaving behind shiny heart-eyes for you. “Yeah, just for me. He can’t have all of that anymore, baby. He can’t see you or touch you or hold you or hear you or fuck you. Only I can, right?”

“Yes,” you groan, bucking your hips up when he finally slips one digit inside you, your walls contracting over it. “Only you can, baby. I’m your girl.”

“You’re my girl,” he repeats, adding another finger inside, making your head spin. “My perfect girl, I’m going to ruin you.”

Anton puts his free hand beside your head and hunches down so he can press his forehead against yours while his other hand keeps working your pussy slowly open. His long thick fingers plunge deep inside of you and it’s crazy how easy they slip in and out, your wetness making the slide smooth, even when he starts to make scissor motions and bending his knuckles.

“Anton,” you moan, touching his neck and trying to keep your eyes open to look at his flushed face. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He says with a sly smile, getting his fingers completely out of you at the same time to run over your pussy lips, making you whine in frustration from being empty again. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“I like how your fingers reach so deep inside me,” you grumble, trying not to close your eyes when you feel him grazing over your clitoris again. “Your cock, too. You’re so fucking big all over.”

“You like that I’m big?” He asks, rubbing little circles on your clit.

You nod, scratching the nape of his neck to release some stress as he keeps teasing you. “I was afraid you wouldn’t fit the first time. But like I said, you always get me so wet.”

“I do, don’t I?” He whispers, a sleek smile on his lips, focused eyes watching your every reaction to him.

His hands descend again, looking for your entrance, and you mewl when he finds it, his digits shallowly stroking it. You bite your bottom lip before replying to him. “You do. You’re so patient with me, too. I love how attentive you are.”

“Awww, sweet girl,” Anton coos, mocking your frenzied state, his lips curving up. “All of that praise just because you want me to finger you properly?”

You chuckle at his words. Of course he can read you like an open book. He always can.

You pull his mouth to yours to press a lingering peck on his lips, your hips grinding up to look for more friction. “I mean what I said,” you state over his lips, giving him pleading eyes. “But doesn't your sweet girl deserve a reward for inflating your ego?”

He snickers and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Of course you do, baby.”

Then he’s inserting two of his fingers inside you again, the stretch making you open your mouth in a big ‘O’ and squeeze his shoulders. He’s still relaxed with it, delicately rubbing your walls, slowly bringing you pleasure.

He kisses the moles on your shoulder and you crane your neck to the side, silently asking for more smooches on your skin. He chuckles and follows your silent request, pressing his kisses on your neck and clavicle.

“I love giving you what you want, baby,” he whispers, his thumbnail grazing under your clitoris. “You look so good taking it.”

You try so hard concentrating on what he’s saying, but the pace of his fingers inside you is slow and deliberate, making you dizzy with want, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You’re so good to me,” you reply after a beat passes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he confesses back, his lips now on your right boob.

He keeps kissing you and licking every part of your body his mouth can reach, sucking on your skin and marking you all over. When his kisses travel down your stomach, his fingers start to curl up in your pussy, and you hitch a breath when he comes face to face with it. He presses his free hand down on your lower belly and looks up to see your hazy eyes focused on him. He smirks, adding a third finger and you feel more juices coming out of you, enveloping his fingers in a slick mess.

He looks down again, now laser-focused on your heat. “My baby’s got such a pretty pussy. I love to watch you from here.”

“Just watch?” You ask, your voice already hoarse from moaning.

He cocks his head to the side, as if he has no idea what you mean. “Why, baby? You want me to do something else?”

You move a hand to his face, thumb rubbing his cheek while your other fingers press on his neck, trying to get him closer to your cunt. He resists you easily, your hold on him being too weak in the state you're in.

“Anton,” you groan, giving him puppy eyes again. “Please.”

He sets his eyes firm on yours. “Ask for what you want with your words and I’ll give it to you, baby.”

“I w-w-want,” you stutter, your breath coming out ragged. “I want your mouth.”

“Where?”

You expel a frustrated sigh before replying. “On my clit, please.”

“You got it, babe.”

You’re expecting him to lick at your bud, but Anton surprises you by enveloping his whole mouth around it and suctioning hard.

“Oh my fuck,” you moan, hips bucking up as he combines speeding his fingers inside you and sucking on your clit with an enthusiasm that has you seeing stars. You try opening your legs more to feel it all and give him space, and he follows your cunt in every wiggle of your body.

“Sweetest pussy ever,” he says after retreating a little. “Can’t get enough of your taste, baby.”

Then he’s back at it, licking up at you, swift and strong strokes of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit and slurping up your juices. You squeeze his neck and move your hand up the top of his head to ruffle his hair and tug on his strands, earning a groan from him that vibrates through your whole body.

You move your free hand to grab at his forearm pressing on your belly. He looks up at you and grabs your hand, his fingers slipping on the space between yours. He moves both of your hands to press on your body again, bending his wrist up to keep your palms connected as his veins become prominent from the force he’s applying, making him even hotter. You ground yourself with his hand on yours, feeling his affection enveloping your body and soul.

You love when he eats you out just like this — hungry eyes gazing directly at you, hand linked with yours, messy hair from your pulls and a skilled experience years of getting to know your body gave him. It always makes you feel close to him and also never fails to drive you crazy.

He goes back to sucking at you in rough and messy intakes and the fingers inside you start to move deeper and harder. You lose eye contact, resting your head against the pillows as a prolonged moan of his name makes its way out of your lips. When it subsides into hoarse whimpers and cries, you begin to feel the bed shake and look down again. You see Anton is rutting his hips on the space in between your legs, jolting both of you with every one of his thrusts. The movement somehow helps with the feeling of his fingers inside of you, making them quicker and sharper, and you scratch on his shoulder from how good it all feels.

Anton catches your gaze again and tightens his hold on your hand, rearing back to lay kisses on your thighs while he speaks to you. “I’m so damn hard for you, baby.”

You press your nails on his skin again, probably leaving marks. Thinking about his hard dick and how his thrusts on the sheets could be inside you has you trembling with want. “I want it, Tonie. Need your thick cock inside me so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you after you cum for me one time, okay?” He asks, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“Yeah, okay,” you breathe out, nodding at him.

He nips the inside of your left thigh. “You’re feeling good, right?”

You nod again, neck straining from the sensations moving through you. “So good. You’re so good at this, fuck.”

He gives your other leg the same attention, rasping his teeth on your skin. “You close?”

“I’m getting there.”

“Hmmm,” he ponders for a bit. Then he shifts his wrist slightly and bends his fingers in your cunt, finding that spongy spot inside you. “What if I do this?”

Your mouth hangs open in a hoarse moan, hips lifting up on instinct, trying to meet his hand. “Tonie, shit, that’s it. Please don’t stop.”

“Found it,” he whispers to himself, a smirk playing on his lips.

Anton’s mouth comes back to your clit, sucking and licking on it nonstop while he keeps his knuckles crooked inside you, driving his fingers in with more force and speed each time they slide out. He presses down your lower belly with more vigor, putting some of his weight into it, and you start to feel the crushing pleasure from inside and out. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, so you close your thighs on his head and hand, rest your feet on his shoulders and swivel your hips to the best of your ability given the force he’s applying on you, trying to meet his frantics movements, looking for more friction, more satisfaction, just more.

The noises become louder and harder to ignore, driving you to insanity. The squelching sounds from his fingers and your wetness, the slippery suction of your intimate flesh, the creaking of the bed, Anton’s soft groans pulsating through you, the rustling of the sheets, your own moans and whimpers coming out broken.

There’s sweat on Anton’s forehead and you brush his hair back, giving you a perfect view of his shiny black eyes and how he’s devouring you whole. Not only his fingers and mouth, but his mind and soul are working intently to get you to your high.

Your pussy starts to flutter around his digits, gripping them and sucking them in. You feel your muscles straining, tensing and relaxing repeatedly, twitching under your skin. Your legs are shaking, your fingers on Anton’s hair and hand trembling, your throat producing incoherent sounds and a familiar churning growing on your core.

You’re sure you can feel each one of your boyfriend’s three fingers rubbing at your walls, prodding at the sweet place deep inside you, when you become restless. Your impending orgasm creeps up on you unexpectedly, fast flames licking at your ankles, knees and elbows and spreading like wildfire to your limbs and torso, blowing your mind.

Then you feel it. The way your stomach contracts against Anton’s hand, how the weight over it is almost unbearable, a crushing presence urging you to peak. It makes you panic, hand gripping over Anton’s hand so hard your knuckles turn white and your nails dig into his skin.

“Baby, baby, wait, I’m—” You try to warn, but it’s too late. You’re cumming, your orgasm wrecking through your body and a clear and short stream of liquid pouring out of you and hitting your boyfriend on the chin. You’ve just squirted.

You’re instantly ashamed, covering your face with your hands, but Anton is unaffected by it. He just withdraws his face from your cunt, pins one of your legs to the bed and keeps pressing his fingers deep inside you, his thumb replacing his lips and moving messy and loud circles on your clit. Through the crack in between your fingers, you see his tongue poking out and licking down his chin and lips, his eyes set on your pussy, still trying to bring you the utmost pleasure.

He works you for a moment while your orgasm courses through you, and when the flames finally subside, you move your hand to push on his wrist, while tears brim your eyes and your jaw and throat hurt from all the moaning. Only then he pulls back completely, sitting on his haunches, resting his hands over his thighs and watching your chest heaving and the red flush all over your skin.

“I knew you’d soak our sheets,” he says, voice soft and frazzled.

You whine, closing your legs in embarrassment and pressing the heels of your hands on your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Your gargled words have Anton touching and hovering over you again, rubbing at your ankle and kissing your hip bones, one after the other. “Hey, hey, none of that, please.” His hand moves up to your waist and he trails a thread of kisses on your whole stomach. “You always look so sexy when you do that, baby.” He smooths his palms on your elbows, coaxing you to open up so he can see your face. “I wanted you to do it. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

You just whimper again, not loosening up to the pressure of Anton’s hands.

He moves his hands to yours, rubbing on your knuckles. “Come on, baby. Let me see your pretty face all red.” He places a kiss on your left shoulder. “Wanna kiss you, please.”

You reluctantly pull your hands away, but you press your left cheek on the pillow so he can only see your profile. He chuckles and cradles your face on both of his hands, moving your head straight so he can see you clearly.

“There you are,” he coos, his thumbs swiping at the tears collected on your waterline. “Hi, love.”

You give him a pout and look down. “Hi.”

“Look,” he starts, voice soft and eyes kind. “I have no idea why you get so ashamed when that happens, but you need to know it’s fucking hot. Like, I wish it would happen everytime.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you mumble out, tracing patterns on the skin of his right shoulder, still not meeting his eyes.

“No, I’m not. Baby, some guys only dream of making their girlfriends squirt,” he explains. You flinch at the last word. “I get to do it every once in a while and it feels amazing.” He shifts his face so you have no choice but to look directly into his eyes. “Does it feel like that for you, too?”

You sigh deeply, his reasoning infiltrating your mind. “Yeah, it does.”

“Then stop ruining this for you,” he says with finality. “It’s a body reaction, it feels good, and you like it. So why not enjoy it? It’s not a bad thing, love.”

“Okay, you’re too reasonable for someone that just blew my brains out,” you complain, weakly pushing his face. “Stop, please.”

Anton laughs, his chest rumbling against yours, and you smile back at him. When his lips peck yours, he puts his whole weight on your body to press his still hard length on your leg, the fabric of his jeans rough against your skin. “Reasonable while I’m hard for you, at that.”

You make a grumpy face at him. “You didn’t cum in your pants for me?”

He smiles wickedly. “I held it in for you.”

“Why would you do that?” You ask, an annoyed look taking over your face.

“Wanna cum inside you,” he whispers, nipping on your bottom lip.

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “I don’t think you deserve it, Anton.”

“I don’t deserve it after blowing your brains out?”

“You should’ve cummed with me the first time!” You exclaim, feeling heated over the subject. “Honestly, how much do you like me squirting when you can’t even soil your pants over it?”

He chuckles because of your defensiveness. “Here I was thinking you’d be glad because this way we can get right to it—”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He tilts his head to the side. “Huh?”

“My love,” you say calmly, trying to sound as patient as he was with you a minute ago. “I like to make you weak as much as you like to make me weak.”

“Ahhhh,” he mumbles, realization dawning on his features.

“So, next time be weak for me, all right?”

“Got it, love,” he says, giving you a happy smile you can’t help but return.

You move your hand to his face, feeling the softness of his underlip with your thumb. Then you’re pulling him in for a kiss and moving your tongue inside of his mouth. He tastes like your pussy and something still undeniably him, and you sigh against his mouth, sucking his tongue and biting his lips. He kisses you tenderly, tucking strands of your hair over your ear and massaging your shoulders. You can’t get enough of him.

When you separate for air, your eyes glint at his, hand going down to press on his bulge. “Great, now fuck me.”

Anton groans and bites your cheek. “You’re so romantic, baby.”

You laugh while you try to tug the waistband of his jeans down, but his hips being so close to yours hinder your actions. He gives you a peck and then slides down the bed to stand up, yanking his pants away and revealing his briefs, a moist patch on its front. Then he’s pulling that down, too, and his cock slaps against his abdomen while he kicks the clothes off.

You lick your lips staring at his puffy cock, moistness accumulated on his swollen tip. He goes back to the bed, climbing atop of you. You quickly wrap your hand around the root of his shaft, then collect his precum on his head to smear it all over his length. Anton whines, his forehead hitting your shoulder.

“So sensitive, right?” You whisper over his ear. “Maybe you wouldn’t be if you hadn’t held it in…”

He snickers, biting on your shoulder. “I said I got it, baby. Can we drop the subject now?”

You humph, squeezing his tip, earning a moan from him. “I’m just making a point here, pretty boy. I can tease too.”

“You tease me all the time by being you,” he whispers against your skin, moving his mouth to your neck. “Being annoyed at me only makes you hotter.”

You smile and kiss the end of his shoulder. “Well, then you should fuck your hot girlfriend, baby.”

He’s so quick to pull back from your shoulder that you almost laugh at him. “How do you want it?”

“Spoon me,” you say and he gets off of you so you can lay sideways.

Once you’re positioned, he comes behind you, chest pressing against your shoulder blades and left arm fitting in the space between your neck and the mattress to wrap around your torso, his hand gripping on your opposing shoulder. He places his other hand on the inside of your right thigh to separate it a little from the left one, getting his hips close to yours. His dick hits the swell of your ass and you wiggle your butt to feel more of it.

“You like that I get so deep like this, don’t you?” He taunts, lips on your earlobe raising goosebumps on your body.

You reach your hand back to grip on his hip bone. “Anton, just shut up and fuck me.”

You love the man, you really do, but sometimes — mainly in bed, when you’re horny and desperate — he just talks way too damn much.

“Alright, Miss Editor,” he says with a chuckle. “So impatient tonight.”

You feel his knuckles skimming against your skin as he grabs his dick to tap it on your cunt, his head sliding against your folds. You both sigh at the first contact, chests contracting and expanding at the same time, and you dig your nails at his skin. Then Anton is moving his hips back and positioning himself, his tip prodding at your entrance for a moment before he’s gliding inside in one swift motion until he bottoms out, your arousal making it smooth and painless.

Anton releases a sigh when his hips are flush against yours and you feel suspended in the air and filled, your chest falling forward, your back separating from his chest and your hands supporting yourself on the sheets.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, voice already strained.

Anton doesn’t let you be distant from him for too long. He pulls you right back against his body, hand moving down from your shoulder to your boob, and thrusts into you shallowly.

“Stay with me, love,” he whispers in your ear.

You move your hand to grip onto his forearm, grounding yourself whilst you feel your pussy throbbing around him. “Tonie,” you say breathlessly. “Feels so full, so deep.”

He wraps his free arm around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to him, rocking your hips forward together, making sure he’s buried within you to the hilt. “That’s why you chose this position, right?”

“Mhmm,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his wrist. “Can you move, baby?”

You feel him nod against your neck and a moment later he’s going almost all the way out, letting only his tip inside, and then pushing forward again, until he hits your deepest walls. He does it three times in a row and it’s like you can feel him all the way from your core to your lungs, his thrusts pushing air right out of you and leaving you breathless.

You move your hand back to his hip again for support. Anton takes the moment to slide his hand down your butt, fingers spreading around one of your ass cheeks as he rests the top of his head between your shoulder blades to watch the way you take him in, keeping his thrusts slow and steady.

“Look at the way your pussy takes my cock, fuck,” he says, groaning in between his words. “Always stretching up for me so good, wrapping all around me.”

“Anton,” you moan, aiding his movements with your hand, trying to pull him closer and deeper inside you.

He starts pressing kisses over your skin and his hand lightly slaps your ass, rubbing the place right after, the sting making you clench around him. “I could live inside this pussy forever.”

His words get to you, like it always happens, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Holy fucking shit.”

“Would you like that, baby?” He whispers, his lips pressing on your neck, the hand on your boob flicking your nipple. “I bet you would. You love having me inside of you.”

You nod, sure that he can see you. “Yeah. I’m obsessed with—” The next words die in your mouth, replaced by a hiss when his hand pulls your leg up, changing the angle slightly.

“Obsessed with what, baby?” He asks, as if he’s not making your train of thought weaker by the second.

“With you… and your cock,” you say through gritted teeth while he starts to speed his pace. “Just obsessed. Love the way you fill me up.”

You’re not lying. You are obsessed with his dick. Truefully, you’re obsessed with all of him. Probably just as much as he’s obsessed with you. You make the hottest maniac couple possible.

You can’t see his face correctly, but you know he’s smiling because of the noise he makes, his smugness showing up from his sounds and the snap of his hips on yours. “I know you do, baby. Can’t get enough of this dick, right? You act like a little slut for it.”

“Jesus, baby…” You’re all out of words, your body and mind being consumed by him.

“My girl got a pussy made for me to fuck,” he praises, hand gripping your thigh so hard you’re a positive he’s bruising you. “Fucking perfect, made for me. Perfect for me.”

“You— you’re the one who’s perfect,” you stutter out, moving your lips to press kisses on his knuckles.

“You’re perfect for me and I’m perfect for you,” he states, his hand going from your thigh to your face, making you turn your head so he can look into his eyes. “We’re made for each other.”

And then he kisses you, stealing what’s left of your breath, tongue licking your lips and invading your mouth. After that, he taps two of his fingers on your lips and you take them in, sucking on them languidly as you give him the sultriest look you can muster. He smiles at you and puts the same fingers around your nipple, wetting it with your saliva as he twitches the peaked bud. His lips descend upon your neck to wrap around your other boob and he sucks on the neglected nipple. You moan and arch your back, driving your ass and hips back in time with his growing thrusts forward, mind going dizzy from how good you’re feeling.

Anton smiles around your breast, looking up at your face and you see in his eyes how much he loves driving you crazy. It makes you put your hands around his head and pull his lips back to yours, kissing him with all your might. You love him so much you think you might explode sometimes.

His hips start to hit you with more force and speed and you pull back for air, but keep his face close to yours, mouths still connected and breaths mingling whenever one of you moans, sharing kisses, licks and bites on each other’s lips.

“Love of my life,” Anton whispers over your mouth. “I love you so fucking much.”

From the very first time you fucked, Anton showed you how much he valued connection. Yes, you two love to try out freaky positions and new ways to pleasure each other. However, he said it time and time again the one thing that surpassed all of it was being close to you. Nothing could compare to the feeling of his skin against yours, of you being wrapped on his body and inside his embrace, gaze locking with yours and his hands being free to roam all around you.

He made you addicted to the feeling as well and without even noticing you started to always search for positions where he’d be pressed as close to you as possible.

The position you’re in right now is good, but not ideal, mainly after his thrusts became faster, his hips sending you lurching with each snap as his arms pulled you back to him, throwing your body back and forth. When he grabbed your face to kiss you, it just turned more uncomfortable, your body now twisted at the waist to keep looking at him as he pounds on you from behind.

You’re about to ask him for a change when he proves he’s one step ahead of you, slowing down his thrusts to a stop and rocking his hips one more time before pulling out. “Gotta change,” he says breathlessly, resting your thighs back on the mattress. “Need to look into your eyes while having you.”

“Should I ride you?” You ask, but he’s already moving over you and pushing your shoulder until your back hits the sheets, his other hand spreading your thighs open.

“Maybe for the second round,” he says and you chuckle, not quite believing he has the energy to think of doing all of this again. “Be my pillow princess for now, baby. Let me take good care of you.”

He sits on his haunches and secures your legs apart before moving a hand back to his cock, pressing on his leaking tip and then moving it down to the base. He teases you both for a second while he taps his cock on your folds, hissing with you in unison, and then he’s passing through your hole and pushing inside again, hips kissing yours.

You clench around him almost as an instinct and Anton throws his head back, reveling in the way you wrap around his cock, his hips pushing you forward. He lowers his chest to meet yours, caging you in between his arms that press on the sheets on both sides of your head, looming over you and dipping the mattress with his weight.

“Still soaking wet and tight for me even after we’ve done this a million times,” he says, pulling back slightly to drive inside you with more force. “You make it so hard to hold myself back.”

You move your hands to his neck, feeling his hair damp with sweat. “Don’t hold back. I want you to feel good.”

“Don’t worry.” He moves a hand to your waist, pressing you against the sheets and thrusting in again. “I always feel good when I’m inside you, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his lower back, crossing your ankles together and pressing your heels on his ass to force him to fuck you with more power. “Baby, you have no idea what you do to me,” you mumble, moving your lips to press on the apple of his cheek. “I feel like I’m addicted to you.”

Anton all but melts, slowing down to look directly in your eyes and pay attention to what you’re saying. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need you to know how much I need you,” you say, your voice starting to falter, your hands getting antsy and squeezing his shoulders. “I’d never ever think about replacing—”

He soothes you with a hand on your face, sweeping your hair back. “Shhh, I know, baby, I know.”

“No, you don’t.” You shake your head, eyes glazing over him. “I really don’t want anyone else. You’re the one for me.”

“I know, love,” he coos, stroking your face and kissing your temple. “You’re it for me, too, sweet girl.”

“I fucking love you,” you utter, your lips skiming against his at each word, in the same beat as he thrusts deep inside you. “Nothing— no one else measures up to this, you and me.”

He smiles, resting his forehead against yours. “You and me, baby. That's all that matters.”

You seal your vows with a kiss, your mouths clicking like puzzle pieces. Just like how your body fits beneath his, how his hands are carved to drag on your skin, how your fingers are modeled to grip his hair and your nails to rake through his back, how both of your moans sync up, harmonizing together, how his hips attach on the dip of yours, how his cock is suit to fuck you, how your pussy is made to suck it in.

There’s so many messy aspects of your lives, so much baggage you both carry. But this, being together, belonging with each other is what makes all the imperfection make sense, no matter how fucked up life gets.

Anton licks his way down from your lips to your neck, his mouth suctioning on your pulse point and his hands squeezing your waist. He’s still fucking you leisurely, every movement deliberate and intense, and from the way he digs his fingers into your skin and your moans make your throat hoarse, you know you’ll cum just like this.

“Shit, you’re so freaking perfect,” he chokes, his uneven breaths hitting your skin. “Perfect for me.”

You agree, lifting your hips up to move in tandem with his, chasing your high. “Yes, perfect for you.”

He bites on your earlobe, then speaks over it. “You’re gonna cum for me, my perfect girl? Gonna make a big mess on my cock?”

You speed up the movements a bit, trying to scratch the itch that gnaws at your lower belly, feeling yourself clenching over him. “Yeah, I’m so close, baby,” you gasp.

“That’s it, love, that’s it,” he says, pressing his face on yours again, nuzzling your nose. “You’re taking it so good. Such a good girl for me.”

He grabs one of your legs to crook it, fitting the back of your knee on the bend of his arm and stretching it up. The new move makes him plunge deeper inside you, his tip hitting the back of your walls, right on your g-spot.

“Oh my gosh, Anton,” you whimper, clawing at his lower back. “Don’t stop, please.”

“Fuck, I love how whiny you get every time,” he says, soft and gruff, pressing his lips to your cheeks. “So desperate to cum for me.”

He wraps his forearm around your leg to reach for your pussy, digits rubbing on your clit at rapid pace, in contrast with his slow fucking. You grow agitated, curling your toes and bucking your hips, hands gripping any of his flesh you can reach and a string of broken moans falling from your lips. Anton gulps on each one of your sounds, lips rasping against yours as he moves his free hand to your lower back, pulling you more into him while you arch for him, both still trying to feel every part of you as possible. Your pussy is clenching around him without control right now and you feel your restraint slipping away with each passing second.

“Shit, you’re clenching on me so tight, baby,” he groans, and you see the burning under his eyes, how his hands get more antsy, too. “Gonna make me cum, too.”

“Yesyesyesyesyes,” you mutter like crazy, pressing a hand on his face to smooth down the place between his eyebrows where his skin is squeezed shut, obviously trying to hold himself back. “Anton, inside, please.”

That’s what does it for him. The desperate plea on your lips, how urgent your voice calls his name, asking him to give you his seed. He kisses you one more time and then he’s cumming, hot thick spurts filling you up and triggering your own orgasm. It hits you right in the chest, stealing all breath while you chant his name like a religious hymn.

Anton doesn’t stop, because he never does. He frees your leg and sits on his haunches, grabbing your hips and making you ride the high together, still thrusting inside you whilst your cunt convulses around him, watching how white rings of your hole form around his swelled up cock, speaking nonsense. Once he’s almost done, he slowly dips inside you three more times, rocking his hips forward the most he can on the last one, until he can see his cum leaking out of you from how much he gave you.

He stays connected with you and sinks back down on the bed, fitting his head on the space between your neck and shoulder. You stay silent for a while, letting your labored breath slow down while you’re both brought down from the peak. You notice how loud you were being. The absence of your moans, the rustling of the sheets, of your skin slapping together and your headboard hitting the wall is calming right now, but it also stresses you for a whole different reason.

You rub on Anton’s shoulders and tilt your head to the side to kiss his cheek. “These walls are thick, right?”

He opens his tired eyes to look at you. “Scared we’ll get a noise complaint, baby?”

“I mean, we can’t afford being expelled from the building, Anton,” you say firmly in response to the humour in his voice.

He chuckles and drops a kiss on the bridge of your nose. “Relax, baby. They can’t expel us until we get like three strikes.”

You look at him quizzically. “What does that mean?”

“Like, we have to be notified three times for the same wrongful behavior,” he explains. “I read the condo regulations when we got this place.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “What did you read it for?”

“Hmm, moments like this?” He says with a teasing smile. “We both know how loud you can get.”

You roll your eyes and push at his shoulder, annoyed. “Get up, you’re all sweaty.”

He doesn’t back down, instead getting his face all up on yours and kissing your cheek. “You like it when I get sweaty.”

“Not like this,” you say, truly feeling sticky with his hot skin still pressed on yours. You try to push him off you, but he doesn’t even budge. “Seriously, baby, I feel gross. And we need to showeeer.”

He tightens his hold around you and pouts. “Gimme a kiss first.”

You give in to him, pressing your lips on his for the last time before he finally lets up, getting off your body, his softening cock pulling out of you. You feel more of his cum dripping out of you as you sit up and move your shaky legs to the side of the bed. Anton follows your movement, staying on his knees and pressing soft kisses on your spine whilst you breathe deeply.

“My hot, annoyed girlfriend,” he whispers on your skin. “I’ll have to fuck you again if you keep up with this act.”

You finally laugh as he kisses his way up your shoulders. “Well, you’re annoying sometimes! Always teasing me, even when I asked you not to!”

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says on your neck. “Would you forgive me if I carry you to the bathroom princess style?”

You pretend to muse on the thought. “Hmm, maybe.”

The next moment he’s up and wrapping one arm around your back and the other under your knees, picking you up to carry you to the en-suite bathroom. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his clavicle as he walks and a few seconds later he’s dropping you back to the ground.

“Start without me and I’ll join you in a minute,” he says before giving you a long peck on the lips. “I have to take care of the big mess you left on our sheets.”

He turns his back to you and you swat at his butt for that comment. “See? Annoying!”

Anton just laughs as he gets out of the bathroom, leaving you to it. You sigh and get on the toilet, analyzing your frazzled state in the mirror while you pee. Your hair sticks at odd places, your eyes look glassy and your skin is covered in perspiration and link marks. The boy said he would ruin you and ruin you he did. You sigh happily, the thought making you giddy.

After you clean yourself, you walk on still wobbly legs to your side of the bathroom vanity to grab a hair tie, then move to the shower to turn the faucet on. You brush back your strands with your fingers while you wait for the water to warm up, checking in the mirror that your hair looks decent enough before tying it in a firm bun. You step into the shower stream, then, letting it wash away all the grime and remnants of your lovemaking. Anton joins you a few minutes later, pressing his chest on your back so the water stream hits him, too. You hum contendly when he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

His aftercare is the best, as always. He cleans you and himself up almost all on his own. You notice how he initially reaches for your body wash, but ends up brushing it aside to grab his body wash, lathering you up with bubbles. You keep your lips sealed about it as he scrubs you softly with your violet sponge, even getting down on his knees to brush it over your legs and feet, making you laugh. He also lets you hog the stronger stream of water, too busy kissing and caressing your skin to care for it. It all feels so good you start to feel sleepy. Once you’re done, he wraps you both in your matching fluffy white robes and pulls you back with him to the bedroom, kissing your lips again.

As you step in the bedroom, the room feels chilly and fresh, the pine scent of your air freshener spray lingering in the air. Your bed is made with new crispy white sheets and a pair of Anton’s pajamas rest over the quilt. He grabs the bottoms and starts to put them on and you move to your wardrobe to catch a nightie for you. But he’s quick to pull you back to him by your wrist, the top part of his pajamas in hand.

“Would you mind wearing this tonight?” He asks, voice soft and careful. “Please? For me?”

It’s funny how he’s gingerly requesting you something while towering over you, big shoulders and arms on display. A strong bulky man turned uncertain and sweet in front of his much weaker and dainty girlfriend.

“Sure, baby,” you reply, opening your robe and letting it fall off your shoulders. You reach your arms up and look at Anton expectantly. “Can you help me put it on, please?”

He gives you a giddy smile and rushes to do just that, helping by putting his shirt on you, first passing your arms through the holes first and then your head. He pulls it down until the comfy fabric hugs your body nicely and the bottom of it reaches until a little past your butt. With this, you’re completely wrapped around Anton's scent. Which definitely was his goal all along.

He makes it crystal clear when he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up and putting his nose right on your neck and inhaling deeply. “You smell so good, baby.”

You giggle, crossing your arms over his neck. “I smell like you, you mean.”

He pulls back with an embarrassed smile, a pink tint flushing his ears. “Exactly.”

You press your hand on the nape of his neck and pull him down to kiss him languidly. Anton hums happily on your lips, sitting down on the bottom of the bed and moving you to his lap. You sit with your legs perpendicular to his and wrap yourself tightly in his embrace, giving smooches on his face and neck.

When you pull back, Anton is smiling like a school boy at you. “Oh, I already ordered some jajangmyeon and fried chicken for us. It should be here in a few minutes,” he tells you.

You smile back at him and move a hand to your now growling stomach at the mention of your favorite comfort food. “Wow, you really are the love of my life.”

He nods proudly and grips your hand to press kisses onto your open palm. You trace the lines of the muscles on his shoulder with your free hand while he does it, scouring your mind for a way to softly broach the subject of his obvious jealousy.

Then you sigh and decide to just rip the bandaid off.

“So, uh,” you start uncertain, and his eyes go to yours, showing he’s listening to you, his lips still pressed on your palm. “The Sungchan thing really bothered you, right?”

Anton tenses and pauses mid-kiss on your skin, his body becoming stiff under yours. He scrunches his eyebrows together and shrugs, trying too hard to seem laid back. “No, not at all. Does it look like I’m bothered?”

You bite on your lower lip and nod slowly, seeing his cheeks blushing.

“Oh,” he mutters after a beat, dropping your hand and looking down. “Well, I guess it did bug me a little bit, then.”

You scratch on his hair, trying to be supportive, and softly ask, “Can you tell me why, baby?”

“I don’t know,” he says, still looking down, suddenly very engrossed in pulling at a thread on his pants. “I mean, you told me all about him. And I think, maybe, knowing it all— Like how he was your first real thing, the first guy that you actually loved… It all made me a little insecure. And then he appeared out of nowhere and he’s obviously tall and handsome. And then he’s flirting with you, you said so yourself, and you’re chatting up with him all buddy-buddy—”

“I wasn’t buddy-buddy with him,” you say and Anton looks at you exasperated with the interruption, but you gaze back at him with an adamant expression. “We just talked. He heard about the promotion when I was speaking with you and asked me about it. Honestly, it didn’t mean anything to me, baby.”

“I’m not saying it meant something to you. But he was very obviously trying to get you, even after he saw you were committed. I’m not dumb, Y/N. It just upset me.”

“But I rejected him. Very clearly, at that — like no, thanks, you wouldn’t have a chance with me even if I didn’t have my amazing ass boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know all of that,” he huffs, still brooding.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t give you a play by play of our talk while you ravaged me,” you say, voice full with sarcasm.

He gives you a pointed look. “You could’ve told me before that!”

“And how was I supposed to know you were so upset about it if you didn’t say something?” you counter. “I know I’m great and all, but I can’t read minds yet, Anton.”

He shrugs and pouts. “Anyway, you asked me how I felt about it and that’s it.”

“You’re so cute when you’re this jealous,” you tease, squishing his cheeks and finally getting back at him from all the ways he taunted you tonight. Anton glares at you and you soften up, holding his face tenderly, your thumbs rubbing at his jaw. “Look, baby, I meant every word I said. You’re it for me. There’s no one else, no ex or past fling that can whisk me away from you, especially not a fuckboy like him.”

He nods at every word out of your mouth, eyes understanding.

“I completely get why you felt troubled tonight,” you continue. “But I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it when I say it doesn’t matter what he or anyone else tries to do, I won’t leave you. You’re stuck with me, baby boy. No take backs. No running away. No cheating. It’s you and me until the end… okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he replies. His eyes are set firm now and you can tell he feels more confident by your reassurance.

“You trust me, right?”

“I trust you, baby. And I feel the same way. You and me, always.”

“Always,” you nod, giving him a happy smile and looking him deep in his eyes. “I love you so bad.”

He visibly melts, his hands pressing on your waist again. “I love you, baby.” And a beat after he asks, “Was it okay, though? The possessive thing?”

You squint your eyes at him and stretch your arms around his back. “Well, I didn’t use our safe word…”

“I know, I’m just checking in,” he explains. “I think I should’ve asked your color, right? But I was just so into it.”

“I was into it, too,” you confess, shimmying yourself further into his arms. “Honestly, it was freaking hot. You can do that again whenever you’d like.”

He laughs and pulls you closer, until your chest is flush against his. “Dirty girl.”

“What was it that you said again? That you’d love if he saw me like—”

“No, I said he can’t ever have you like that again. Never.”

“Never is such a strong word, baby,” you tease.

Anton’s eyes harden. “Is that your way of begging me to wreck you again? Because I will do it, Y/N,” he warns.

“I’m kidding!” You say, arms going up as if you're surrendering yourself. “Damn, tough crowd.”

“Wow, you should do stand up comedy, baby,” he sneers, still moping.

After that, you spend a while peppering kisses over his face to get him back to his smiling self and soon enough he’s cheerfully kissing you back.

“Oh, one more thing,” you say suddenly, rearing back to look at him. “You know what we talked about celebrating?” Anton nods and you barrel on. “I was thinking about how once you finish your residency, I’ll also be a year settled in my new spot at work. So we could totally take a few days off, maybe plan a big trip…”

“Oh, I like how you think, dirty girl,” he says and you jokingly slap at his arm. “No, seriously, that’s a great idea, love. Were you thinking about somewhere special?”

You nip at your bottom lip, nervous. “I was, actually.”

Anton moves his thumb to your mouth, brushing on your bottom lip to release it from your teeth. “Tell me, baby.”

“I was thinking… New Jersey,” you say with a smile.

Anton’s eyes widen at your answer and he corrects his posture a little, sitting up a little straighter. “Wait, really?”

“Really,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his cheeks as his shocked bright eyes look at you. “I just want to know the place you grew up in. You already got to know all my family, my town, my school friends, everything… It’s only fair I get to know yours too, right?”

“Shit, I love you so much,” he says suddenly, catching you by surprise. He places his hands on your face and pulls you in, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how happy you make me.”

Heat rushes to your face because of his praise and you smooth your thumbs over the sides of his neck as he looks at you with stars in his eyes. It’s crazy how he still makes you feel like a shy schoolgirl after all this time. “I take it you like the idea, then?”

“I love it,” he whispers, pressing his lips on yours for a brief moment. “I can’t wait to show you around. And I’ll get to show you off to my friends, too!”

You smile seeing his happiness. “I’m glad you love it, baby. We should start planning it soon.”

He nods and pulls you to a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. You hug him back just as tightly while you breathe together for a moment. Then Anton breaks the silence, “Wanna know what else we’ll get to do once we’re in New Jersey?”

“What?” You whisper.

Anton doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he moves his face to drop kisses on your shoulder, making you sigh. It’s a simple action, but it already riles you up and ignites a flame on your core, and soon you’re whining in his arms. That’s when he finally replies, his breath blowing over the damp skin he just kissed, “I’ll get to fuck you on my teenager bedroom, too.”

“Shit, baby,” you whimper, tugging on his hair, feeling yourself flush with heat.

You press your thighs together while you think about it, the scenario automatically appearing inside your mind. You imagine Anton rushing you into his bedroom, how he’d get you on his twin bed and drop to his knees while taking your pants off. How he’d move a finger to his lips to ask you to be silent before he starts dropping kisses all over your thigh. And how he’d spread you apart and close his lips on—

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Anton asks, interrupting your imagination and you bite your lips at being caught red-handed.

“Yeah,” you reply faintly while he keeps kissing your body, his mouth now on your jaw. You let your hands wander over his chest and arms, pressing on the muscles he carefully built over the years.

“Filthy, dirty girl,” he mutters teasingly, digging his fingers on your hips as he squeezes you against him. “You really want me to destroy you again.”

“You started it!” You accuse, driving your pointer finger into his chest.

“And I’m gonna finish it, baby,” he says playfully, pulling you in to kiss you.

You kiss him back, letting his tongue invade your mouth, and then, just as the kiss starts to get more desperate, your hands roaming over each other, the doorbell rings.

You push on his chest and leap out of his lap. “Yay, food’s here.”

Anton shakes his head at your happiness state because of food when he’s already half-hard in his boxers. But he can’t help but smile when you beckon him to follow you, hollering giddily, “Let’s eat, my love!”

He’s on your tail a second later, wrapping his arms around your waist and hauling you up, making you squeal. “Yeah, let's eat so we can quickly get to the dessert after,” he whispers with his lips over the shell of your ear, making you shiver all over.

The next day, while you’re having a fresh cup of coffee Anton made for you, a small piece of paper is flown under your door.

Anton grabs it and smiles, walking back to your kitchen table to place it down in front of you.

You take a peek at it with sleepy eyes and then tilt your head up to him. “A noise complaint?”

He drops down just enough to put a hand on the back of your head and peck your mouth. Then he whispers proudly over your lips, “Strike one, baby.”

As he laughs, you roll your eyes at him, not believing this silly annoying man is the love of your life.

But you’re so happy he is.

This might be my most self-insert work to this date. So many of reader's struggles are inspired by my own life, and that's why this story is very very very dear to me. As always, comments are appreciated. You can also talk to me about the fic on my askbox or tip me on my ko-fi, if you want. As always, thank you for reading!

222 notes · View notes