deryicantwait

[deryicantwait]

he only thought of you.

day in. day out.

when he was daydreaming, it was you. when he was in a boring lecture room and his eyes couldn’t help but wonder around and land on something, it was you. when he had to quickly come back to his dorm room to relieve his … “tension”, well it was because of you. when he had no choice but to touch himself, it was you he thought of.

it ached. it ached so bad.

“please. fuck baby please fuck me. please ride me like you hate me. that’s all i want. baby- mnnghh!”

it always hurt. and it would continue to, if he couldn’t get his hands on you. well, more like if you couldn’t get your hands on him and touch him exactly where he needs you to.

sometimes, when anton’s feeling really riled up, most likely because you had done your nails and subtlety dragged the tips across the back of his hand, he imagines your fingers carving and touching up the rest of his body. specifically, his mouth.

fuck, he always came quickly when he’d do this. slowly running his fingertips on the bottom of his plump sore sensitive lips he’s been biting on to keep quiet. then when he can’t take it anymore, the thoughts of you becoming much more reckless, he slides one finger in. then another. on occasions, he sucks on three fingers, but two is more than enough for him.

and he’s sloppy with it. so fucking sloppy. spit dripping down his chin, aggressively thrusting his fingers in and out of his mouth. lolling his tongue out ‘cause he feels so fucked out and dazed. his hand wrapped around his dick jerking faster and faster. whimpers and moans falling out of his mouth, out of his control. eyebrows furrowed as he feels himself getting so much closer.

“ngh! mmphhh fuck fuck fuck you feel so good. please let me cum! oh fuck!”

he imagines its your warm, tight cunt he’s fucking and not his own pathetic hands (though they get the job done).

his eyes roll back in his head, his back arches off the bed and he cums, spilling white strings of hot cum all over his stomach. his chest heaves up and down as he calms down from his high.

but it’s not enough. thoughts of you are still racing in his mind.

maybe in another life, anton would know that you too spend nights in your dorm room, rubbing your clit to how hot he looked in the lecture room that day.

a/n: hiiii, my first time writing smut or like anything bye😭😭, i doubt anyone’s gonna see this but even if it’s one person and you like it, don’t be shy to put any asks in, i literally need all the input and inspo i can get !!

[deryicantwait]

▸ 18+ mdni. | warnings. size kink, implied loss of virginity (depends how you see it), kun's disgustingly in love <3 this was requested, so that's why i'm writing cute stuff.

at the start of your relationship, kun was careful. a small sensitive thing like you couldn't get injured, and surely not by him—not yet, at least. he was patient, telling himself that it was worth it to wait, to not rush things. he knew you couldn't handle someone like him, and even less take him, but with a little bit of training, you would eventually be able to.

he thinks you look the prettiest underneath him, wide eyes looking up at him, fully trusting him. it's endearing, really, how you let him take care of you, not even asking him questions. nothing matters, you just want kun.

with a silent nod of your head, he finally pushes at your entrance, stretching you out on his cock. he doesn't stop at the tip like usual, he instead continues his way in despite hearing your little whines, clearly not used to the sensation.

"you're fine, baby, you're fine," he reassures you, leaning down to softly kiss your temple. he feels your hands closing around his biceps and your index finger barely reaches your thumb. "just a lil' bit more," he says.

"okay," you breathe out, biting down into your bottom lip to hold back a whimper.

he bottoms out and lets out a hiss when you clench around him, realizing you have the entirety of him inside of you for the first time. it hurts, but you're relieved that you finally can feel all of him.

"i'm gonna move now," kun warns you, "hold onto me, baby."

your grip tightens around him, and if kun didn't think you were hurting, he'd maybe complain about your nails digging into his skin. he moves his hips back, waiting a few seconds for you to take your breath before slowly bottoming out again. your pussy gushes around him and it slightly reassures him to know that you're literally soaking wet. makes things a lot less painful and much smoother.

after some time, his pace grows faster, and you're extremely whiny, but kun can clearly see that pain slowly fades into pleasure. "doing so good f'me," he praises, panting heavily, mouth open to let the air out. "your tiny cunt is squeezing my cock so tight, fuck," he says, almost moaning out from how heavenly you feel.

"so big, kun," you cry, eyes wet and glossy. you feel him so deep, and for a reason, because when you look down where you both meet, you see the bulge of his cock through your stomach.

when kun hears your quiet gasp, he follows your gaze down. "shit," he curses under his breath. he never thought he'd ever see such a cute, yet so arousing sight. it only amplifies the possessiveness he has over you, his desire to protect and ruin you at the same time.

"i love you so much, baby," kun moans out, his thrusts becoming sloppy, his skin slapping against yours. "so fucking much. all mine."

[deryicantwait]

(more) plug!nct dream texts ˖𖥔 ݁.𖧧

it’s been a while since i’ve done some texts but it helps the creative flow :)) had so much fun getting back into it, hope u enjoy!

cw: dreamies are down bad what’s new, situationship/flirtationship type (no one is officially together) mentions of weed use, mildly suggestive, pet names: pretty, angel, baby

[deryicantwait]

Lil sneak peek of spoiled hybrid jisung

[deryicantwait]

'haechan as the loser you find hot'

he's a loser, but he's hot and he's pretty when he blushes // you like to flirt with him.

[deryicantwait]

𝗪𝗜𝗦𝗛 ◦ LAZY MORNINGS.ᐟ ⋄ ﹙ 枯 ﹚

꒰ ㌛ ꒱ how do they act in lazy mornings with you?

꒰ ぉ ꒱ bf!wish && fem!reader content fluff. yushi's part can be slightly suggestive at the end. so much love i wanna die. ⋄ 3.5k words

꒰ 'ㅅ' ꒱ i thought of adding sakuryo in fluff headcanons, but something doesn't seem right for me... (we're just 1 year apart, but i feel like a sinner) so i'll just wait for them to turn 18 and i add them to fluff guys. i don't really like or write platonic fics and a romantic relationship seems... weird idk 😭😭

SION

mornings with sion are never rushed. they bloom slowly, like petals unfolding in warm sunlight—quiet, lazy, and filled with love. he refuses to open his eyes the moment the alarm chimes. refuses to let go of your warmth. instead, he pulls you closer, buries his face in the crook of your neck, and breathes you in like you’re his first breath of the day.

before anything else—before brushing teeth or checking phones or even stretching—he needs you. needs to kiss you, whisper to you, talk about everything and nothing. the day doesn’t start until he’s had a moment wrapped in you.

the golden morning light begins to pour gently through the curtains, soft and warm against the sheets. you stir sleepily, shifting under the covers, your face instinctively nuzzling into the familiar chest rising and falling beside you.

your eyes flutter open, slowly adjusting to the light. before you can even greet the day properly, you feel it—a tender kiss, feather-light, pressed against the crown of your head.

“good morning, love,” sion murmurs, his voice still gravelly from sleep. it rumbles in his chest beneath your cheek, and it makes something inside you melt.

“good morning, babe,” you reply, lifting your head just enough to rest your chin on his chest, your gaze drifting to him.

his hair is a soft mess, sleep-tousled and impossibly endearing. his eyes remain closed, but there’s a lazy little smile curling at the corners of his lips—the kind of smile that says he’s perfectly content, just like this.

you lean up and press a small kiss to his chin, earning a subtle but visible twitch of his smile growing wider.

“did you sleep well?” you ask gently, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt, your hand seeking out the warm skin of his side.

he shivers slightly under your touch, leaning into it, like your fingers alone are enough to anchor him to the world. “i always sleep well when i’m with you,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

you giggle and pinch his side lightly. “don’t be cheesy.”

“i’m not,” he insists with a sleepy grin. “i’m just being honest. how could i possibly sleep badly when i’ve got the softest, warmest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the world holding me like i’m her favorite thing?”

your laugh bubbles up, light and bright, but his words—even if exaggerated—sink deep into your heart. because that’s what sion does. he says things that make your chest ache in the softest ways.

with a quiet groan of effort, he shifts, gently rolling you onto your back so he can rest above you, arms caging you in without pressure. he leans down and starts kissing you—over and over—like he’s got nowhere else to be and all the time in the world to show you how much he loves you.

your cheeks. your lips. your nose. your forehead. your neck. every inch of you receives the kind of affection that makes you feel cherished down to your bones.

you laugh between kisses, and that sound alone makes sion smile against your skin. he could live off the sound of your laughter. if it were a song, he’d play it on repeat for the rest of his life.

“what’s my pretty girl doing today?” he asks, voice muffled as he tucks his face into your neck again, your fingers tracing lazy circles across his back.

“after having breakfast with my amazing boyfriend?” you tease, and he hums in response, the vibration tickling your skin. “probably finishing that boring college project… then i’m meeting my mom.”

he lifts his head slightly, blinking at you with playful offense. “and then you’ll come home to your amazing boyfriend’s arms, right?”

you stretch your arms above your head with a yawn, grinning. “actually, then i’ll meet my friends. after that, i’ll come back home to my amazing boyfriend’s arms.”

he flops back down onto your chest, groaning dramatically. “ugh. then i’ll be here. abandoned. lonely. rotting away in despair. thinking of you and all the time we could’ve spent tangled in each other.”

you burst into laughter, fingers brushing through his messy hair. “you could hang out with the boys, you know.”

he makes a discontented noise. “they’re my last resort.”

“you love them.”

“maybe,” he mumbles, nuzzling back into you like he’d rather be anywhere but away from you.

the conversation fades into silence again, the comfortable kind. the kind that wraps around you both like a second blanket. your bodies stay tangled under the covers, lips meeting over and over, skin brushing against skin in the gentlest of ways.

his lips keep trailing kisses along your face and neck like he can’t help himself, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he stops. and honestly, you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever.

“we really need to get up…” you murmur against his lips between kisses, breath hitching slightly.

but sion only shakes his head, already capturing your mouth in another kiss.

“five more minutes,” he whispers, voice soft, pleading, and full of sleepy love.

and just like that, you’re pulled right back into his arms. because with sion, five more minutes always turns into ten. then twenty. then a morning that stretches out beautifully—slow, warm, and full of love.

RIKU

mornings with riku are always a slow burn. the sun might rise, alarms might blare, but riku? he stays wrapped in blankets, deep in dreams, snoozing one alarm after the next. you’ve lost count how many times he’s tapped his phone without opening his eyes. and even though he gets a little grumpy when you try to wake him, all of that melts away the moment he realizes it’s you.

your voice. your touch. your kisses. that’s all it takes for his sleepy heart to soften, for the whines to begin, and for the clinging to start. because for riku, no morning truly begins without your arms wrapped around him and your lips pressed against his skin.

he’s lucky there’s nothing urgent today—no classes, no calls, no plans—just a soft saturday morning and the two of you tangled in warmth.

you’d been trying to wake your sleepyhead up for nearly ten minutes. five alarms, maybe more, all silenced with a lazy swipe of his hand. and each time, he rolled away, burying himself deeper under the covers like a stubborn cat. at one point, he even turned his back to you entirely, pretending to snore louder.

but you’re persistent. you always are when it comes to riku.

“riku…” you call out gently, fingers trailing up and down his back. you lean in and press a kiss to the curve of his neck, then another to his cheek, letting your lips linger just a little longer than necessary.

you nudge his hair aside with your nose, your breath warm against his skin, voice barely above a whisper as you begin listing all the lovely things you could do together on a slow, beautiful morning like this—even if it is already past eleven.

he stirs a little, shifting with a soft sigh as he finally flops onto his back, one arm flopping across his eyes. he blinks one eye open, clearly prepared to grumble, but as soon as he sees you leaning over him, all that resistance dissolves into a sleepy smile.

“baby~” he murmurs, voice drowsy and sweet, like honey on toast.

“finally!” you laugh softly, flopping beside him. “i thought you’d slipped into a coma.”

without another word, riku reaches for you, arms pulling you against his chest like you’re a lifeline. he buries his face in your shirt, warm breath fanning across your skin, and lets out a sigh that feels like the entire world just fell away.

he doesn’t speak—just holds you. one hand traces slow, lazy shapes across your back, the other anchoring you close. it feels like he’s trying to soak in every inch of you through sheer contact, like if he could melt into you, he would.

“baby,” you murmur with a soft giggle, kissing the top of his head, “we really need to get up.”

“but it’s saturday,” he whines, voice muffled into your chest.

“and it’s eleven already,” you tease, threading your fingers through his soft, sleep-tousled hair. your nails gently scratch his scalp, and the way he shudders lets you know he loves it—which, of course, makes him complain more.

“don’t do that… i’ll fall back asleep.” he whines again, tighter this time, like a child resisting the end of a dream. “we can spend time together asleep too…”

“maeda riku.” you chuckle, gently cradling his face in your hands. he’s pouty, cheeks warm, lips slightly parted, and those big brown eyes blink up at you with all the affection in the world.

“we’re getting up, having breakfast, and spending time awake, together. got it?” you press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

he lets out the most dramatic sigh, like you’ve just asked him to move mountains. “but i was so comfy…”

“if you get up right now,” you say, leaning close, “i’ll spend the whole day drowning you in kisses.”

his eyes snap open, fully alert now, curiosity lighting up his face. “the whole day?”

you nod, lips twitching into a grin.

“anywhere?” he asks, already grinning back, that playful sparkle returning to his eyes.

you nod again, slower this time, just to tease him.

that’s all it takes. he throws the covers off with a dramatic flair, rolls to the edge of the bed and stumbles to his feet, hair sticking out in every direction, still half-asleep but clearly determined.

“c’mon baby!” he beams, stretching his arms wide. “let’s do something fun!”

you giggle into your hand, heart swelling with love for this boy who turns from grumpy to giddy with just a promise of kisses. his smile is still drowsy around the edges, but it’s yours. completely and fully yours.

and just like that, the day begins—with messy hair, sleepy laughs, and a whole lot of love.

YUSHI

mornings with yushi are always soaked in quiet adoration. he usually wakes first—not because he has to, but because he loves to. it’s his favorite part of the day, those few precious minutes where the world is still, and you’re right there, peaceful and warm, breathing softly beside him.

he treasures this. the privilege of watching you so gently wrapped in sleep. he memorizes you like this, every morning, like he’s seeing you for the first time. he looks for the tiniest details, the ones he could have missed, the ones only he gets to see—the way your lips part just slightly, the subtle twitch of your fingers, the way your eyebrows furrow when your dreams start to turn. every sleepy habit of yours, he’s fallen for, completely. even the ones you might find silly or embarrassing—to him, they’re the loveliest things.

what could ever compare to the mornings when you wake by his side? when he gets to be the very first person to see you, to hear your soft, raspy “good morning” that almost sounds like a secret, or when you lazily nuzzle into his chest, mumbling for five more minutes before drifting right back into that peaceful slumber. those moments, yushi keeps them tucked in his heart like treasures.

his eyes flutter open, blinking slowly against the morning light that filters through the thin curtains, soft and pale.

he turns his head to the right, squinting at the white glowing numbers on the clock—still too early, thank god. so he shifts, rolling to his left instead, and there you are. his girl, his comfort, his favorite sight to wake up to.

a small, quiet smile curls his lips as he tucks one arm beneath his head, sinking into the pillow as his gaze drifts over you.

his eyes trace the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the delicate curve of your shoulder peeking out from the blanket, the tiny, involuntary smile tugging at your lips. your eyelashes flutter like you’re dreaming something exciting, and in your sleep, you instinctively scoot closer, seeking his warmth, tucking yourself right into his space like you belong there. like you always have.

and to yushi, you do.

he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world—like nothing else matters. his love for you sits in his chest, steady and deep and undoubted.

his hand moves slowly, carefully, as he brushes away the strands of hair that have fallen across your face, tucking them behind your ear with a tenderness that could only come from loving someone this much.

you stir, slowly waking, your lashes fluttering open to find him already watching you with that same soft, sleepy smile.

“good morning…” your voice is just a whisper, thick with sleep as you drape your arm lazily around his waist.

his arms pull you close in response, wrapping you up like he could keep you there forever. you rest your head against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heart as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“good morning, heart.”

you sigh, melting into him. “what do we have today?”

“besides my shift in a few hours?” he murmurs, nudging your head with his chin. “nothing. you, miss sleepy, have the day off, remember?”

you lift your head just a little, eyes still half-closed but sparkling with quiet excitement. your lips pull into a slow, lazy smile that makes yushi’s heart soften even more.

“then you should keep your pretty girlfriend some company, huh? would you dare leave me alone on a morning like this?” you tighten your grip around him dramatically. “it’s freezing without you… or worse… i’ll miss you so much i might just die.”

he laughs, his chest vibrating under your cheek, and it’s the sweetest sound. “you’re so dramatic in the morning.”

he clutches you tighter, gently rocking you until he rolls over, hovering above you, trapping you beneath him. he lowers his head, pressing soft, lingering kisses all over your face—your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, everywhere.

“i’ll try to finish early, hm?” he pecks the tip of your nose. “then we can go on a little date. sound good?” he kisses your cheeks. “or we can just stay in…” a kiss to your chin, your forehead, the corner of your lips, teasing you. “kissing… loving you…”

and then finally, his lips find yours, warm and slow and full of sleepy affection.

your arms loop around his neck, fingers slipping into his hair, caressing the nape of his neck as you pull him impossibly closer. his hands rest on your waist, firm but gentle, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your skin as you melt into the kiss.

you pull back just enough to whisper, lips brushing his, “i think i like the last one better.”

yushi’s smile is soft, almost shy, before he leans in again, kissing you deeply, like he’s making a promise without saying a word.

he knows he should get up soon, knows he might be late for work if he stays in bed with you any longer, but none of that seems to matter right now.

because this—you, here, in his arms, loving him so sweetly—is always worth the time. always.

JAEHEE

mornings with daeyoung feel like something out of a quiet, tender romance movie—the kind that wraps around your heart and makes you want to live inside it forever. he always wakes up earlier, not because he has to, but because he wants to. he loves starting his day by making you breakfast, just to bring it to you in bed, to watch your sleepy smile bloom when you see him, to steal those quiet moments where the world feels like it’s only the two of you.

you would spend those slow mornings wrapped in each other’s arms, soft conversations melting into sleepy giggles, holding onto every second before life pulls you both away to your own responsibilities.

daeyoung adores waking up with you. he loves the weight of your body pressed against his, the steady rhythm of your breathing, the warmth that seeps into his skin from being so close to you. there’s something sacred about opening his eyes and seeing you there, like you were made to be by his side. he doesn’t know how to live without this anymore. it’s you. it’s always you. he needs you there, every morning, every day.

when daeyoung’s eyes flutter open, the first thing he sees is your back facing him. a slow, fond smile tugs at his lips, and his arm instinctively tightens around your waist, pulling you closer as he leans in to breathe you in—your sweet scent, familiar and comforting.

he could stay like this. god, he wants to. but he knows you—you always seem to wake a few minutes after him, maybe because you miss his warmth when he’s gone. and he knows you love being greeted with breakfast, especially the kind he makes just for you.

so he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your bare shoulder before carefully unwrapping his arm from around you, moving slowly, reluctant to leave your side.

he tiptoes to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, splashing cool water on his face, moving quietly through the house to keep your peaceful sleep undisturbed.

he knows your moods well. some mornings you can eat a whole meal, needing the energy for your busy days. but on softer mornings like this, when your schedule is light and the world is quiet, you’re content with something simple—just a little fruit, a bit of yoghurt, your favourite juice. nothing too heavy. just enough.

so daeyoung prepares exactly that—carefully picking out your favourite fruits, chopping them into perfect little bites, arranging them in a bowl like it’s art just for you. he pours your favorite juice, sets out a small bowl of yoghurt, and prepares the same for himself, though truthfully, he doesn’t care much about what he eats—he’d happily trade his meal for five more minutes wrapped up in you.

when he returns to the room, balancing the breakfast tray in his hands, he’s just about to set it down and gently wake you—but your voice, soft and sweet, cuts through the morning hush.

“good morning, my love.”

you’re sitting up, your hair a tousled mess, your voice still thick with sleep, your smile lazy and beautiful, like sunlight slowly peeking over the horizon.

for daeyoung, this is you at your most beautiful—the real you. no pretenses, no careful details, just soft skin marked by the sheets, puffy eyes still adjusting to the day, messy hair he wants to bury his hands in. you, just you, and that’s all he’ll ever want.

“awesome morning, princess,” he grins, setting the tray in front of you on the bed.

he leans down to kiss you, soft and lingering, like a quiet promise, before gently pointing to everything he’s made for you, explaining each little thing like it’s his love letter to you in the form of breakfast.

as he sips his juice, a small, hesitant question slips from his lips. “do you really need to go home?” there’s a trace of sadness in his voice, so faint, but it’s there.

you smile, sweet and playful, feeding him a piece of the perfectly cut fruit. “hmm, i don’t know…” you tease, your voice laced with affection. “do you have a good reason for me to stay, mr. kim?”

he taps his chin, pretending to think, lips curling into a soft pout.

“you can spend the whole day at your awesome, ridiculously handsome boyfriend’s house while he drowns you in kisses, cuddles, movies, good meals and… did i mention kisses?” he beams, kissing your hand like you’re royalty.

you giggle, heart swelling, leaning in as you whisper, “i think those are all very good reasons.” and you press your lips to his.

he hums into the kiss, pulling you closer, his hand cradling the nape of your neck, deepening it like he’s trying to pour all his love into you in that single moment.

if it were up to him, he would spend every morning like this. every day. forever.

because there’s no place he’d rather be than here, waking up next to you, loving you, over and over again.

[deryicantwait]

LOVEE ur dating oh sion post!! make one about riku/yushi pleasee or any of nct wish members🤍🤍

𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 ෆ NCT RIKU ෆ

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ masterlist

dating riku ღ established relationship, fluff & more mature content. mentions of pda - kisses - 18+ card games - food. this is for fun and entertainment purposes only, don’t take it too seriously!!!!

hiis loves, this one got requested so many times so i hope y’all like it!!! please let me know what you think hihihi big hugs 🤍🤍🤍

──୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──

⟡ dating riku is honestly the closest thing one can get to a fairytale kind of romance. (without the pretty dresses - castles and horses) every little girl has dreamed of their own knight in shining armour and you might actually have full filled that childhood dream. riku is what many would consider; too good to be true. but his love and adoration for you is just pure and true. he has flaws, ofc, every person has flaws but out of all the people you have ever encountered; riku is one of a kind.

⟡ riku is brought up in a loving and warm home. he’s super close with his mom and sister, his whole life he’s been surrounded by womanly love and affection. even though he’s a guy, he has lots of understanding for and about the opposite gender. his mother’s kindness has definitely spread over to him. he listens - communicates - speaks words followed by actions and most of all he loves and cares deeply.

⟡ we all know riku is very affectionate, not just through physical touch but also through acts of service and words of affirmation. he’s definitely not one to step down from a little pda. he’s not ashamed nor does he feel like he needs to hide his affection for you when you’re out. yes he’ll be considerate of your surroundings and won’t push himself onto you when the time and place is just not there but in a comfortable setting he will definitely always make himself present. will somehow always have his arm around you, doesn’t even always realise it himself when his arm is lazily wrapped around your middle or neck. his hands have their fixed spot on your thigh and let’s not forget about the classic back hugs here and there

⟡ he’s obsessed with your lips. his own are puckered at all times whenever he gets the chance. will sneak many kisses, small or big, since he claims he needs it to get himself going. very big on ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ kisses. doesn’t really matter if he’s just running out to quickly get something at the corner store or if he is leaving for work; he always makes sure to kiss you goodbye before he leaves. same with ‘hello’ kisses, doesn’t matter if he’s walking into a room with other people around, he will always make way towards you first, leaning down to peck your lips with a small “hi baby” before he greets everyone around him as well.

⟡ speaking of pda & kisses; make outs happen quite often actually.. not when your whole friend group is around but if it’s ‘just’ sion or one of your besties, he’s not social distancing his lips from yours. he’s not scared to lock lips with you when his hyung is around. he couldn’t care less. ok he won’t push his tongue down your throat, but a little kiss never hurt nobody hehe

⟡ riku is the type of bf to put lots of thought into your dates. yes he enjoys a spontaneous ice cream run or a cafe date but he lives for the actual ‘real’ dates. the one where you take your time to dress up and get ready, looking your absolute prettiest ever (he thinks you’re breath taking at all times tho) completely with a new dress and all - matching your outfits etc etc. taking you to a new restaurant, a cozy wine bar or a rooftop (private) lounge. he believes these kind of dates are necessary for a relationship to be successful. the feeling of a very thoughtful - planned moment together and the excitement that comes with it. you’ll take turns picking out places, making reservations and setting up a dress code. keeping it a surprise for the other up until arrival!!! it’s honestly some of your fav things you do together

⟡ lowkey a very ‘traditional’ relationship type of guy. he will insist on paying the bill, every single time. it doesn’t matter how big or small, he wants to pay. will not even give you the time to take out your card. he thinks it’s his ‘duty’ to take care of you (in a loving way, not in a ‘ur my possession’ way) sometimes, really really sometimes, he’ll let you pay. but only because he wants you to stop nagging him about it. he doesn’t care, even if he had $3 left to his name; it would be spent on you. it’s just something he wants to do for you.

⟡ couple rings - couple bracelets - matching shoes - phone cases - keychains - socks ???? whatever it is, he loves it. just lowkey, he’s not wearing everything at once because that kinda ruins the whole idea of it. but he’ll always make sure to wear his ring, it was his gift to you for your 100 days anniversary (a big thing in korea) so it’s special to him. and it always goes with every outfit he wears. a win is a win!!!

⟡ he has lots of nicknames for you. some very interesting ones.. that make you question the creative capacity of his brain. but his favs and most stable ones are definitely; my love and princess. at first you had to get used to him calling you princess on random occasions.. a little new to the name (valid) but it came so naturally. you are a princess in his eyes and the most fun part is that over time the nickname became a very normalised name for you. he used to call you princess not just to your face but also when he was talking about you to his friends so almost naturally they picked up on it and it wasn’t; “when is yn coming?” but- “when’s your princess coming?” (ps. an; not in a weird way pls take it lightly!!!! people who have watched the100 get the vibe hehe) when it’s the bunch of you hanging out together and you’re in the kitchen getting some last snacks while the movie starts playing, you’ll hear the boys all unitedly calling for you from the couch. “princess!!!!!!! it’s starting”

⟡ riku will always be in touch with you, one way or the other. if it’s not actual texts, it will be memes in your ig dms - tiktoks - even random snapchat videos throughout the day with ‘vlog’ updates on what he’s doing. there won’t ever be a day that he’s not in your notifications. (bare minimum if you ask him) he doesn’t feel the need to text you 24/7 but he does let you know that you’re on his mind even when he’s just scrolling through tiktoks. will send you vids of 2 capybara’s playing with a; “it’s us”. he also likes phone calls but he won’t dramatically fall to the floor if you can’t talk over the phone for one night because you’re busy or just too tired to talk

⟡ he will make playlists for you every now and then with different songs for different reasons. one would be full of songs that he simply likes, just casual music, good vibes etc etc. some songs might have a specific kind of genre that he’s really into and just wants to share with you!!! but there’s also the special playlists; the songs that remind him of you. songs with lyrics that speak the words he wish he could sing to you at any time of the day. songs that remind him of you and him together or maybe future dreams etc etc. it will be a random sunday afternoon, riku is at work and you’re just chilling at home, enjoying your own company, when his name pops up with a newly shared playlist

⟡ he’s not necessarily the type to get jealous easily. at least, he doesn’t show it. there’s definitely moments he wished he could just snatch you away from others but he’ll never really show his jealous feelings unless you pull it out of him. he just gaslights himself that it’s ok (fake it till you make it!!!) but he can get a little sulky when it’s just the two of you again. won’t speak the truth out loud but you know your bf and this switch in his behaviour. sometimes you just talk to him (more force him to talk to you) about the matter but other days you feel a little more .. playful. teasing him about it because you both know you’re happy and good together, there’s no need to worry or doubt each other’s love. so you try to keep these kind of things light and a little teasing never hurt nobody hehe. and tbh.. why won’t you pull his strings a little bit. who knows what fun that might bring (wink)

⟡ shares his food with you. doesn’t matter what it is, his spoon automatically goes to your mouth. awaiting your reaction when you take a bite and happily continue eating when you nod and hum in satisfaction!!! sometimes when you go out for food he’ll purposely pick flavors and things he knows you like so he can share his own with you. he likes sweet drinks and is still getting used to the bitter taste of coffee (he just drinks it for the caffeine) and your sweet tooth might not be as big as his but you’ll always gladly take a bite, the sweet gesture always makes your heart so happy. and obviously you share yours with him as well!!! even if it’s that same damn coffee you always order; he’ll take that sip as if he has never tasted anything like it before!

⟡ ok hear me out. i don’t think he’s a horny dog that needs to be taken care of everyday, twice a day, 10 days a week but i definitely think he likes bedroom time with you. not even just the sexual stuff. he loves waking up next to you whenever he has a day off and you’re sleeping over at his dorm. there’s nothing better.. welllll not a lot of things at least because he definitely considers himself lucky that the two maknaes are living in the other dorm. he has a green card from yushi whenever you sleep over. and he sure as hell makes use of it. morning gymnastics??? yes ma’am sign him up. it’s actually almost like drugs to him. he absolutely loves it, there’s no better way to start his day. (and you can’t disagree ofc)

⟡ riku orders food and coffee to your house whenever he’s at work. if he has to leave early in the morning while you’re still asleep, he’ll get coffee delivered to your home as soon as you wake up. or if he has to work late and you’re already off work or whatever, he will order food for you to make sure you’re eating well even though he’s not there with you.

⟡ he gets you flowers on the most random days. in his opinion there’s no need to have a reason or occasion to give someone flowers. love and affection is enough to get a special person a pretty bouquet of flowers. he knows your favs and has the lady at the shop create something new with it every single time. there has never been a bouquet you didn’t like!!! every single one is a piece of art and you’re always lowkey sad when they’re slowly dying. he also loves that you take out one flower before you throw them out. so you can keep it in your little journal collection. you did it the very first time he got you flowers and it just stuck with you ever since. this way the memories never die!!!

⟡ he’s very serious about his life with you. you can tell by the way he talks about his future and goals. he’s very vocal about his dreams for when he gets older. the kind of house he would like to buy, a home for you and him. the kind of lifestyle he would like to have so he can live happily and without any regrets. you’re his muse and motivation. you’re genuinely the one that can make his hardest days more enjoyable just with your presence and good energy. he knows that both life and a relationship come with ups and downs but he’s ready to fight for you when it’s needed. you’re his person and there’s genuinely nothing that can make him feel more happy and loved like you. he knows what he wants and it’s you and him forever till the end of time.

[deryicantwait]

𝐹avOriTe

bf!anton x f!r    (  ≧ᗜ≦)    fluff    ──────✿  ❕ clinginess and shirtless ton  1.1k   💌      

The apartment is quiet when Anton slips in, the soft click of the door lock followed by the shuffle of his shoes. It's late — much later than he wanted — but rehearsals ran long and no one had the heart to leave until everything was perfect. Still, he hates being away from you for this long.

He drops his bag gently by the door and heads toward the faint blue light coming from the living room.

You're there, curled up on the couch, one leg tossed over a pillow, the other peeking out from beneath the hem of hisoversized shirt — a shirt that hangs off your frame like a blanket. The TV is still playing Ginny & Georgia — of all things — and the remote is loosely gripped in your hand, thumb resting just beside the volume button.

Anton smiles.

You must’ve tried to wait for him.

He pads over and crouches beside you, brushing a few strands of hair from your cheek. Your face is relaxed, lips parted slightly in your sleep. The kind of sleep where nothing could wake you.

Gently, he slips an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders, lifting you bridal style. You stir a little, nose scrunching as you unconsciously curl against him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

His heart melts.

“Of course you're cuddly now,” he mumbles with a grin, carrying you to the bedroom.

He lays you down carefully, but before he can even pull away, your hand tugs weakly at his shirt.

“No—stay.”

He chuckles softly. “Baby, I need to shower. I smell like a gym.”

“Don’t care,” you mumble, eyes still shut. “Smell like… Anton.”

“I don’t even know if that’s a compliment,” he says, amused. But he presses a kiss to your forehead anyway, lingering for a second longer than necessary.

You let go, eventually, and Anton slips into the bathroom.

The sound of water running fills the apartment. You drift in and out of sleep, only properly waking when you hear the door click open and the faint whirr of a blow dryer. You peek through barely opened eyes.

He’s standing in front of the mirror, towel around his waist, head bowed slightly as he runs his fingers through his damp hair while drying it. The muscles in his back shift with each movement, and even in your sleepy haze, you can’t help but admire the view.

Without a word, you stand and pad across the room. He doesn't notice you until your arms snake around his waist from behind and your cheek presses into his back.

He stills.

Then: “Why are you awake?” His voice is quieter now, low and sweet, like it’s reserved just for you.

You smirk against his skin. “God forbid a girl misses her boyfriend.”

Anton lets out a breathy laugh. He turns the dryer off, setting it on the counter.

He twists in your hold, turning to face you. Your arms stay wrapped around him loosely, and he dips his head until your foreheads touch.

“Still sleepy?” he murmurs.

You nod. “Mhm.”

“But not too sleepy to sneak up on me in my towel?”

You smirk. “Maybe I like what I see.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Should I dry my hair more often, then?”

You giggle, fingers tracing the edge of the towel just to mess with him. “You’re so cocky.”

“And yet,” he leans in, brushing your nose with his, “you’re wearing my shirt. Again.”

“It’s comfortable.”

“It’s mine.”

“And I’m yours,” you counter, eyes twinkling.

He kisses you then — soft, slow, like he’s been waiting for this all day. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs brushing the skin above your shorts, and when he pulls away, you chase his lips instinctively.

“I missed you,” you whisper against his mouth.

“I missed you more,” he says, voice almost a sigh. “Come back to bed with me?”

You nod, eyes fluttering. “Only if you carry me again.”

He laughs, shaking his head, but he lifts you easily. “Spoiled.”

You nuzzle into his chest, a content smile on your face. “Yours.”

[deryicantwait]

under me

pairing: anton x fem!reader

wc: 984

cw: submissive antonie, dacryphilia lowk, talking him through it.. (repost since it got deleted??)

sitting between anton’s legs, his sweatpants discarded somewhere around the room, boxers low around his ankles, and the sweat on his torso clinging like raindrops on a window. and oh, his face.

his captivating features, so soft but distressed and worked out. your left hand cupped around the base of his cock, your right hand omit to do the main work. slick with his arousal it glissaded with ease.

the babbles that emitted from anton were so incoherent it drew this willingness inside of you to increase your pace.

“can i speed up?” the words spill from your mouth, so dulcet. your left hand trails up his body, collecting the sweat en route to meet his flushed face.

“ hi.” you say. he forces out a response, barely above a whisper. anton wasn’t on earth, his breath dense against your nose as your faces strayed inches away from eachother. the pace started off slow, his mouth slackened, yours, a toothy grin.

as the pace gradually swelled, anton’s low moans progressed into loud whines and whimpers. “tell me you miss me, mommy.” he groused softly against your lips.

“oh–i missed my favorite boy so much.” you taunt him with your words. the ear-splitting music of his arousal forming a pool in your panties. “ah shit—im gonna!” his voice cracked.

anton cried out, your hand suddenly stopping your vigorous tempo. “you’re gonna cum for me again? he swallowed the salvia in his mouth, attempting to ground himself to the mattress. his body no longer felt as if it was his. this nonhuman creature overtook his body. like his out of his own body.

you drug your hand down the length of his cock, result of his body slightly jerking against your hand. you hand continued to caress his face, finally deciding to give him the kiss he longingly yearned for. too short lived unfortunately.

the speed restarted. he cried out, gripping onto the sheets, eyelids harshly collapsing as he incessantly pushed his pelvis against your hand.

“need–to–oh–i–t’cum.” anton said in a mantra. your lips detached from his face, trailing down his to his throat. you lapped your tongue against the sweat that adhered to his velvet skin. the bitter taste coating your tastebuds.

his cock pulsed in rhythm with your strokes. more honey-coated moans coming from him. overstimulation was getting the best of anton, but it only turned you on more. his fucked our body below you, in your control.

you brought your face right back to his, cutting off his whine with another kiss. your hand reached his tip, flicking your hand thumb across his slit, anton’s noises mixing in your mouth.

“doing so good for me—“

anton intervened your words, pleading for an orgasm. “can i cum yet…need to s’fucking bad..”

his brows were knitted together and you mimicked, a little frown displayed across your face. “can’t hold out a bit longer?” anton shook his head with dismay, tearing up even more as your hand reached for his balls. all the stimulation he yearned to a halt was now gone, surrendering to the idea that he truly wanted it.

you saw the shift in his face, reluctance brewing inside you. without warning you ridded your hands from him, slipping your panties off and next to his calf. anton glared at you with trepidation and you climbed. climbed up a bit, his cock returning in your hand. you centered him with your dripping cunt, your left hand finding purchase on his upper chest. anton heaved, analyzing your face.

you sank down.

his head dropped back. a loud cry escaping.

anton, without hesitation gripped intensely onto you hips, anchoring you into him. your heat reeling him in as your hips moved in a rocking motion. there was rashness in his grip—almost so tight it’d puncture skin.

now both hands lay against his upper chest, your head thrown back as your pussy throbbed against his thick cock. “fuck..can’t believe you lasted this long.” Anton shifted his position, pulling himself up against the soft pillows to get a better view of the graceful view before him.

you found a comfortable pace, watching your boyfriend’s florid face, his lip stuck between his teeth.

“my god.” you moaned, hands slinking around his neck, bringing yourself into his warm body. soft whimpers now echoed one another, Anton’s head resting against your shoulder. he slightly bucked his hips into you, the tip of cock bruising that spot inside you. a squeak released from you mouth, causing you to let out a small laugh.

“is it too much?”

you shake your head, lifting your lower body, before planting yourself back down. your hair was sweaty against your forehead, kneading his cock into you.

“feels so good, damn.” anton whispers. his voice still cracking every now and then. you were so intwined with making yourself come now, the thought of his overstimulation drifted from your mind. until you heard choppy breaths against your ear.

“y/n–im coming.” anton gripped onto your hips, reeling you on his cock, before his vision blurred with tears, eardrums feeling as if they popped. anton’s crys increased in volume against your ear, white ropes of cum decorating your walls.

“baby!” you say, tightening your grip around his neck, to help ground yourself, back curling inwards as your head thrashes back, heat broiling to the surface as you fall against his body.

tears both fall from your eyes, his head coming off your shoulder, to meet your lips for the nth time that night. it was messy, wet but loving. overstimulation clouded the two of you, the knot in your stomach coiled so tightly.

pants filled the room, his tears lightly falling down your shoulder. anton knew you were enervated, but a part of him beseeched you didn’t utter a word about a fifth round.

he might actually pass out if that happened.

[deryicantwait]

Anton x Y/N: Soft Porn

TW: Fingerxng, Masturbation, soft unprotected sex, WC: 5.8k

MDNI

Preview: You're his best friend, the very best of friends, where both of your school supplies mix and still wouldn't mind. Where if you don't like something your mom packed for lunch, he would trade his with yours cause he knows you like something with strawberries, even if he likes it too. But…that rainy night, everything changed.

"Ton, are you home?" You mouthed while typing, then hit send. You're just lying in your bed, bored. And remembering you have a friend, you know you have a way to get out of this boredom.

"I'm going, okay?" followed by another text. But he did not reply. Usually, he'll reply as soon as you text him.

"Hmmm, strange. He should be home, though," you murmured. You shrugged. You still  went to him.

It was raining that day. 

The kind of rain that hit the roof with weight. Heavy. Steady. It echoed through the quiet of Anton’s house, thudding against the glass panes of his bedroom windows until they fogged over, blurring the world outside into a wash of gray and water trails. The air smelled like wet concrete and old pine from the tree brushing against the side of the house.

You’d let yourself in like always. Your eyes searching for his shadow. Hmm. Where is he? You whispered to yourself.

You took your shoes off, dropping your bag in the hallway, jacket half-soaked and clinging to your shoulders. You wiped your feet out of habit before heading toward his room, the silence oddly comforting. No game sounds, no music. Just the soft hum of his computer, faint even through the crack under his door.

Your fingers curled around the knob and turned it without a thought. You were always welcome.

But this time, you froze.

The door didn’t creak, but the stillness inside made even your breath feel like a violation.

Anton didn’t hear you.

He was sitting at his desk with headphones on, you know, the big kind that covered his ears completely? Yeah, that. His back was turned, slouched slightly forward. His screen casting a faint glow over his bare skin, bouncing off the pale curve of his neck, and the messy fall of his hair.

And the tissue box on the desk.

A crumpled one beside his mouse. Another falling from the edge.

Your eyes trailed lower.

His hand was under his shirt, moving in slow, almost tortured strokes. The fabric of his shorts was bunched up just enough. You couldn’t see everything. But you saw enough. So, he was watching porn? Wait...he's watching porn? 

His thighs were tensed, his toes curling against the wheels of his chair.

Then you heard it.

“…oh..fuck…”

His voice—breathy, low, wrecked.

“…Y/N… god, Y/N…”

You froze.

Your body rooted itself to the floor, even as your mind screamed at you to leave, to say something, to do anything but stand there and witness it. But you couldn’t—not when you heard it again.

"Y/N, fuck!"

He said your name like it physically hurt him.

Like he’d been holding it in for too long, and it was finally spilling out. His voice was tight, strangled with restraint and desperation. You could see the fine tremble in his arm, the tension in his jaw, the way his head dropped back slightly, exposing the long stretch of his throat.

“Gonna cu—oh…” 

Then his body tensed—abruptly.

A hitch in his moan. A pause in his hand.

He turned his head, just slightly, reaching for the tissue, eyes catching the faint shift of light at the door—and then he saw you. 

Everything stopped.

The headphones flew off. His hand yanked out from under his shirt. His entire body snapped upright, like someone had poured ice water down his spine.

“Y/N—!” His voice cracked. “Shit—I—I didn’t know—I wasn’t—fuck—I didn't know you were coming”

"Uhh...I texted?" you whispered.

He scrambled to pull his shirt down, legs slamming awkwardly into the underside of the desk. Another tissue was stuck to the side of his thigh. And another fell to the floor, already crumpled. His entire face flushed a shade so red you didn’t even think was possible—his ears, his neck, even the tip of his nose.

He looked… terrified.

Like you were a ghost. Like he’d summoned you into existence just by moaning your name, and now you were standing in the doorway, breathing, blinking, real.

“I didn’t mean for you to—fuck—I wasn’t trying to—” he stumbled over every word, voice wrecked, hands flailing for a hoodie that was nowhere near him. “Please don’t freak out. I just—It’s not what it looks like. Or, it is, but not in a bad way, I swear—”

You didn’t say anything. So this is why he didn't reply if he's home or not. He's....busy.

You just stood there. Watching him. Heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your fingertips.

His lips were swollen from biting down too hard. His chest rising and falling like he’d run a mile. His fingers trembling where they clutched the edge of his desk.

And god, you realized—you’d never seen him look like this. Never seen Anton this stripped, this undone. There was no hiding behind awkward jokes or quiet smiles. No soft chuckles or shifting glances. Just raw, open want.

For you.

He looked at you like he was about to cry. “Please don’t hate me.”

"Where are your parents?" You asked, not really disregarding what he pleaded. 

"T-they're out...?" he responded.

You took a slow breath, shut the door behind you with a soft click, and stepped forward.

“I heard you moaning my name,” you said, voice barely above the rain tapping against the windows.

Anton froze. His hands gripped the sides of the chair now, knuckles pale. His lashes fluttered, and his chest moved with short, shallow breaths.

 “I—I didn’t mean—”

You cut him off gently. “Were you thinking about me?”

His eyes fluttered closed, jaw clenched.

The question hung in the air like smoke.

He swallowed. Hard.

Then nodded. Once. Twice. Slowly.

His eyes dropped, unable to meet yours.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Always.”

You looked at him.

Not with disgust. Not with shock. But with something deeper, something that had been building between the two of you for what felt like forever.  

“Good,” you whispered. Your voice shook a little. “Because I’ve been thinking about you too.”

His eyes flew open, stunned.

“I… what?”

You stepped closer, knees brushing his. “All the time,” you said softly. “In class. At home. Even when I’m trying not to.”

Anton’s breath hitched. “You-”

You nodded. “ Yeah. Just like that.”

His gaze dropped, and he let out a quiet, broken laugh. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“But I did.”

“And you’re not… mad?” he asked. "You should be mad."

You leaned in, one hand brushing the edge of his desk, your face inches from his. “Actually,” you murmured, “I think I’m a little turned on.”

He blinked, stunned.

You smiled. 

“Uhh… you’re not gonna change?” you said, your voice teasing but quiet, almost breathless.

Your eyes dropped deliberately to the tent in his sweatpants, still very much there despite the embarrassment, maybe because of the way you were looking at him now. His face flushed again, deeper, if that was even possible, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, one hand tugging the hem of his shirt down uselessly like it could hide anything at all.

“I—uh—I was about to,” he stammered, not meeting your gaze. “I didn’t know if you’d—if I should—”

You moved closer.

Slow, deliberate, soft enough not to startle him, but close enough that he stopped breathing again. The air between you felt charged, thick with everything unspoken. His chair creaked under him as he looked up, wide-eyed, like he wasn’t sure what you were going to do. Like he still couldn’t believe this was real.

And you—  You just smiled.

Not big. Just that small, knowing smile he’d seen a hundred times but never quite like this. You leaned in, your hands barely brushing the arms of his chair for balance, your body just hovering above his, close enough that he could smell the rain on your skin, the vanilla from your shampoo, the warmth of you.

Then you kissed him.

Soft, featherlight.

Not rushed. Not hungry. Just the softest press of your lips to his. Warm. Careful. But intentional. His breath caught the moment it happened—completely still beneath you, like he was afraid to ruin it by moving.

When you pulled back, his eyes were glassy. Lips slightly parted.

“…You kissed me,” he said, like he needed to hear it out loud to believe it.

You tilted your head, smile lingering. “You were thinking about me. I figured it was only fair.”

He blinked a few times, lashes fluttering. “You’re really not mad?”

“No, Anton.” Your voice dropped a little, a hum between calm and affection. “I’m kind of...hmm, honored.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, still not sure where to put his hands, still hard in his pants and painfully aware of it.

“Want me to help?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper—light, but laced with something heavier underneath.

You bit your bottom lip, not in some dramatic, performative way—but because your heart was racing, and     you didn’t know where else to put all that heat crawling up your throat. Your fingers fidgeted slightly where they hovered near his armrest.

Anton stared at you like the question short-circuited his brain.

His lips parted, then closed. Then parted again. His eyes flicked down to your mouth—where your teeth still gently tugged at your lip—and then to your hand, then to the very obvious outline in his pants. His pulse throbbed visibly in his neck.

“You… you don’t have to,” he said, voice barely steady.

You tilted y our head. “I didn’t ask if I had to.”

He blinked.

“I asked if you wanted me to.”

A beat passed.

And then—he nodded.

Slow. Hesitant. But certain.

“…Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah. I do.”

Your smile softened. Not teasing now, not playful. Just warm. Intimate.

You moved to straddle his lap gently, knees on either side of his thighs, hands resting on his shoulders for balance. You could feel how tense he was beneath you—like one wrong move might shatter him entirely. His hands hovered uselessly at your sides, unsure where to go, if he was even allowed to touch you.

Your face was close now. Breath to breath. His scent wrapping around you—fresh soap, nervous sweat, something distinctly him.

“Okay,” you whispered, leaning in again, lips brushing his jaw now, featherlight. “Then let me take care of you.”

And this time, he let his hands settle on your waist.

Tightly. Like he’d dreamed of this a hundred times but never let himself believe it would actually happen.   

You move slow, didn’t rush, even though his breath was already shaky, his grip on your waist tightening more like he was hanging onto the edge of something. His thighs under yours, the heat of him unmistakable even through the thin cotton of his sweatpants. And he was so hard. Pressed against you, aching and twitching beneath the fabric, and you knew—knew—he was trying so damn hard not to buck up into you.

His eyes fluttered closed when your hand moved.

First, just brushing over the bulge. Testing. Teasing.

You watched his reaction—how his lips parted, how his brows twitched like even that light touch was too much.

“You’re so sensitive,” you murmured, and you didn’t even mean to say it out loud. It just slipped out, soft and honest, like the room was some little bubble where nothing existed but your voice and his breathing.

He groaned. “Fuck… I’m trying not to—god—don’t stop.”

You didn’t. You don't even want to.

Your fingers slipped beneath the waistband, slow, deliberate. The way his stomach clenched under your touch made you press a kiss to his jaw without thinking—gentle, like reassurance. Then you wrapped your hand around him.

And god, he was warm. Heavy. So hard it pulsed in your palm.

Anton choked on a breath. “Y/N—shit—”

You started slow.

Long, steady strokes, your thumb brushing over the tip where he was already leaking. Spreading it on his aching tip. His thighs tensed beneath you, knees spreading just slightly wider, hips shifting like he didn’t even mean to. You could feel him tremble, could see the way he couldn’t look at you now, too overwhelmed, too undone.

“Look at me,” you whispered, brushing his cheek with your free hand.

He did.

And you swore—his eyes looked wrecked.

“I’ve thought about this,” he confessed, barely able to speak. “God, I’ve thought about you doing this so many times.”

You kissed him again. Just a little. Just enough to steal the air from his lungs.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips. “I heard you.”

That made him groan again—low and wrecked—and he thrust into your hand involuntarily. You stroked him harder now, faster, your hand gliding so easily over him, fingers wrapped just right. And every now and then, you’d shift in his lap, pressing your body closer, letting him feel the heat of you.

He buried his face in your shoulder.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m not gonna last, baby,” he gasped.

“I know,” you said, soft and warm, brushing his hair back from his face. “Let it go, Anton. It’s okay.”

A few more strokes—tight and perfect—and he shuddered.

His entire body locked up, breath held, face pressed into your neck as he came, hot and hard into your hand, the tension in his thighs finally snapping. He let out a broken, almost silent moan of your name. Like it was holy.

You held him through it.

Slowed your hand. Kissed the side of his face. Letting him breathe.

And for a while, neither of you said anything. You reach for the used tissue on his desk and wipe your hand.

Anton was still catching his breath when you leaned back just enough to look at him. Your back against his desk.

His hair was a mess, cheeks pink, eyes half-lidded with that dazed, post-release softness. You could feel his chest rising and falling beneath your palm—your hand now resting over his heart like it belonged there.

You smiled. Not teasing. Just lazy, soft, warm. And then you leaned in again, slow and smooth, brushing your nose against his before catching his mouth with yours. This time, the kiss wasn’t featherlight.

It was deeper.

Still unhurried, still sleepy, but firmer—your lips moving against his, tongue against your tongue, like you had all the time in the world. His hands found your hips, holding you gently, thumbs brushing the curve of your waist. He kissed you back like he didn’t want to lose the taste of you, sucking your tongue gently like he couldn’t believe he finally had permission to want you like this.

You shifted slightly on his lap, chest pressing into his. He groaned into your mouth at the contact, fingers gripping you just a little tighter.

And then—your teeth grazed his bottom lip.

Not hard, but enough.

You bit down, a gentle pull, enough to make his breath hitch and his fingers twitch on your skin. When you let go, you kissed over it like an apology, like a reward, your hand curling into the front of his shirt where his heart was still racing.

“Fuck,” he whispered, barely audible, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smiled against his lips. “You’ll be fine.”

He kissed you again—messier this time. Like he couldn’t stop. Like he didn’t want to stop. Your mouths moved together slowly, hungrily, a little sloppy now from how comfortable it was. His tongue brushed yours, tentative but needy, and your fingers tugged at his collar, just holding him close.

You were still kissing, slow, lazy, tangled in each other. The kind of kiss that said we’re not going anywhere, that tasted like warmth and years of tension finally melting. Maybe overcoming the "best friend only" phase. 

Anton’s hands had settled on your waist at first. Gentle. Careful. Like he was scared of doing too much. But the longer you stayed pressed against him, the longer your mouths kept finding each other, the more relaxed he got. His hands wandered. Up. Just a little. Up. Just enough.

Then— He shifted, pulling you closer.

And his hand accidentally slipped higher—just enough to cup the underside of your breast through your shirt. He froze instantly. Lips halting, fingers tensing.

“Shit—sorry—” he gasped, pulling his hands back like he’d been burned. “I wasn’t trying to—”

You laughed.

A soft, breathy little chuckle that made his eyes shoot back up to yours in confusion.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, grabbing both his wrists gently.

His breath hitched when you guided his hands back up. Settling them right over your chest, your own palms over the backs of his. Your heart was racing. So was his.

“You can touch me, Anton,” you whispered, smiling. “I want you to.”

His lips parted like he was going to speak, but nothing came out. Just a low, choked sound that made you grin wider.

“You’re so cute when you’re panicking,” you teased, brushing your nose against his.

“I’m not panicking,” he muttered, clearly panicking.

You laughed again and kissed him, slower this time. Moaning against his lips. His hands hesitated, thumbs brushing the soft swell of your chest. Testing. Getting bolder. You could feel his pulse through his fingers.

“You’re okay,” you whispered against his mouth. “I’ve always wanted this too.”

And his hands stayed right there.

Warming over you, cupping your chest, thumbs brushing slow, uncertain circles like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you like this. And God, the way he touched you—like you were something precious, like he didn’t want to rush or ruin any second of it.

You tilted your head, kissed the corner of his mouth, then rested your forehead lightly against his.

“Hey,” you murmured, voice soft but playful, breath still warm against his lips.

“Mhm?” Anton blinked up at you, still a little dazed, pupils blown wide, lips kiss-bitten and pink.

You smiled lazily. “So… what kind of porn were you watching?”

His entire body tensed under you.

He looked like he forgot how to breathe for a second. “Wha—uh—I—”

You laughed under your breath and curled your fingers into his shirt again, dragging your nails just lightly across his chest. “C’mon,” you said. “You were so into it. Moaning my name like I’d caught you mid-prayer.”

“I didn’t think you’d—God, I didn’t think you’d walk in,” he muttered, covering his face with one hand, flustered beyond belief.

You bit your lip, leaning in close to his ear. “Was it soft stuff?” you whispered. “Rough? Were you into it because the girl reminded you of me?”

His breath hitched. His free hand tightened around your waist. He still hadn’t answered.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face. His cheeks were on fire. His mouth opened, then closed, then—

“Soft…kind of,” he mumbled. “I picked it cause she looked like you.”

You grinned.

“Ah,” you whispered. “So that’s why you kept saying my name. And I was waiting for your reply.”

He groaned into his hand, clearly wanting the ground to swallow him whole. “This is so embarrassing.”

You tilted his chin up gently, brushing his jaw with your knuckles. “Anton,” you said, voice low and warm. “I liked hearing it. You sound so good, actually.”

He blinked.

“I liked seeing you like that. Wanting me. Moaning my name like you couldn’t help it.”

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking to your mouth, your collarbones, your chest—like he didn’t know where to land safely anymore.

“I think about you, too,” you admitted, fingers tracing the hem of your own shirt now. “Sometimes… when I touch myself.”

His whole body twitched. You were so natural around him since you two were friends, best friends. He never thought of you doing yourself while thinking about him. Well... he did. He imagined it. Maybe. But fuck, it's still surprising hearing this from you. Cause again, you don't look like you'd do that kind of thing.

And now? Your words hung in the air like a dare.

His mouth parted slightly, but no sound came out at first. He just looked at you. Like he was trying to make sure he’d actually heard that. Like he couldn’t believe you’d said it so casually, so confidently, while straddling his lap with your chest still pressed against his hands.

And then—you leaned in again. Soft. Deliberate. Your lips brushed his, slow and warm, and you whispered against them, “Do you want me to show you?”

That did it.

His grip tightened on your waist. His eyes snapped to yours, wide and dark and almost desperate. Like his dream of you finally being brought into life. Live. 

“You’d really…” he trailed off, swallowing. “Right here?”

You nodded slowly. “Only if you want to watch.”

Anton’s chest rose like he couldn’t get enough air. “Fuck, yes.”

You kissed him once more—longer this time—and then slowly, you moved off his lap.

He watched every second like he was dreaming.

You didn’t rush. You stood in front of him, your shirt slightly rumpled from his hands, your lips kiss-swollen. You saw him—how his gaze dropped to your body, then flicked back up, like he didn’t want to miss a moment of your face while you undressed.

You slipped your hand under the hem of your shirt, fingers brushing your stomach. His breath caught. You slowly lifted the fabric over your head, dropping it beside you on the floor. You weren’t wearing a bra.

Anton sat completely still, lips parted, eyes locked on your chest like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Your nipples were already hard, maybe from the coldness, maybe from the pleasure. From his touches.

But you weren’t done.

You slipped your shorts off next—slow, letting them slide down your legs. And when you stepped out of them, you looked at him from beneath your lashes and said, almost too calmly, “I usually start like this.”

You sat back down on his lap—but not directly on him. You leaned back slightly, your legs draped over his thighs, your back resting against his desk so he could see everything.

Anton didn’t speak.

He didn’t move.

He just watched, completely wrecked and reverent.

Your hand slipped between your thighs. Gently. Fingertips brushing over your underwear, pressing just enough to make your hips twitch. His eyes followed every movement. When you dragged your fingers lower, pressing lightly against where you were already wet, you let out a quiet exhale.

His hands clenched the armrests of his chair.

“This is what I do when I think of you,” you murmured.

“Fuck,” Anton whispered, his voice breaking. “Y/N…”

You brought your fingers to your mouth while looking at him, slightly let your spit cover them, then down, your fingers slipped under the fabric now, touching yourself properly—and your head dropped back for a second. You moaned softly. Not for performance. Not for show. Just… because it felt good. Because he was there, watching, wanting, breathing your name like it hurt.

“Can I—can I touch you?” he asked, voice strained.

You met his eyes. “Not yet. Just watch me, okay?”

He nodded. Wordless. Obedient. Completely at your mercy.

You worked yourself slowly, fingers moving in slow, wet circles as your other hand curled into your thigh. Your lips parted with every soft moan, eyes half-lidded, heart pounding. 

"F-fuck, Anton." You hissed.

You were putting on a show—but only for him. Only Anton got to see you like this. Live.

And when your breath started catching, your legs twitching, your hips rolling up into your hand, he leaned in just a little—close enough to whisper, “You look so fucking perfect like this.”

You gasped his name again.

"Hmmm, Ton, cumming," 

And when you came—soft, trembling, thighs tightening—you let your head fall forward, forehead against his, your breath still shaky, your fingers slick and twitching against your thighs.

Your breathing had barely evened out when Anton spoke again—his voice low, rough from restraint, and soft around the edges like he was afraid you might say no.

“C-Can I try doing that to you?”

You blinked.

Tilted your head slightly. Your body still sat on his lap, bare thighs warm against his, your chest pressed against him as his hands gripped your waist like he didn’t want to let go—not now, not ever.

You smiled, slow, lazy, and a little teasing. “Like… finger me?” you asked, clearly amused, your voice featherlight but edged with interest.

Anton swallowed. Hard. His face was red again—though it never really stopped being red—but his eyes didn’t look away this time. His brows pulled together slightly, mouth parted like he was trying not to sound too desperate.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Please?”

You bit your lip.

That single word—please—did something to you. Something deeper than arousal. Something that cracked you open. You could see it written all over his face—this wasn’t just lust. He wanted to do it. For you. To feel you, touch you, learn you. Like it mattered to him that it felt good. That you felt good.

You reached up, brushing his hair from his forehead gently, then leaned in and kissed him—slow, open-mouthed, with just a hint of tongue.

“Okay,” you whispered against his lips. “You can.”

His hands stilled on your waist.

“Really?” he breathed, like he couldn’t believe it. Like you’d just handed him the entire world.

You nodded. “You have to be gentle though. I’m sensitive right now.”

“I will, baby” he said, instantly. “I swear.”

You shifted slightly in his lap and guided his hand downward—your fingers curled around his wrist, warm and steady, leading him with slow precision between your thighs. His breathing grew shallow, lips parting, his free hand curling into your hip like he needed something to hold onto.

You were still wet inside, your panty is soaked. Still warm. Still soft from your own high. When his fingers grazed over your underwear, you pressed your hips forward just slightly and whispered, “Inside.”

His fingers slipped beneath the fabric. Careful. So careful. The remnants of your thick release sticking to his fingers.

You watched his face the entire time—watched the way his eyes went dark and focused, like he was watching something sacred. Like he couldn’t believe he was touching you like this.

He slid a finger in. Slow. Testing.

You gasped softly—hips jerking slightly forward, one hand gripping the back of his neck as your other guided him gently with slow rolls of your hips.

“Shit,” he whispered, breath catching. “You’re so—fuck…”

You bit your lip, groaning as he pressed in deeper, tentative, fingers trembling slightly. His touch wasn’t perfect—he was feeling his way through—but it didn’t matter. He was watching you like you were the only thing in the world. His thumb brushed your clit by accident and you shuddered.

“Right there,” you breathed.

He did it again, more purposefully this time. You moaned softly, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder.

“You like it?” he whispered, fingers working deeper now, finding a rhythm. “Tell me.”

“I love it,” you gasped. “It feels so good, Anton.”

That broke him.

He kissed your neck. Your collarbone. His fingers moving faster, more confident now, following every sound you made like he was studying music, and you were the only song that ever mattered.

Your thighs trembled again. Your hand slid over his, guiding the pressure just right, your breaths hot against his skin as you started to lose control again—your hips rolling, mouth parted, the room spinning slowly around the heat building in your stomach.

“I wanna make you come,” he whispered, voice shaking with need.

"I'm-shit, I'm cumming, don't stop."

And with one more perfect press of his fingers—his thumb rubbing tight, slow circles—your whole body locked.

Your moan was broken, messy, half into his shoulder, half into the open air as you came again, this time against his hand.

And he held you through it. Anton looked wrecked though.

Flushed cheeks. Wild eyes. His mouth hung open slightly, lips kiss-swollen and shiny, hair pushed back like he’d run his hands through it in disbelief. His fingers still rested between your thighs, warm and wet and unmoving, like he was afraid to pull away—like he didn’t want to lose the heat of you.

But you were the one who moved.

You reached down, slow and deliberate, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you pulled his fingers from between your legs. 

They glistened.

Wet, coated in the aftermath of what he’d just done to you—your pleasure still sticky on his skin, proof of just how good he made you feel. He stared, breathless, unsure of what was happening, his mouth barely forming your name.

And then—

You brought his hand to your mouth.

Anton’s breath hitched. His pupils dilated like a reaction he couldn’t stop.

“Y/N—” he barely whispered.

You didn’t say a word.

You held his eyes, lips parted, and slowly slipped his middle finger into your mouth.

His body shuddered.

Your tongue swirled around it—slow and deliberate. You sucked gently, eyes dark, sultry. Not shy. Not teasing. Just honest. Like this was who you really were. The same girl who giggled during lunch, who wore the hoodie you stole from him, who walked into his room like it was her own—was now moaning softly as she sucked her own cum off his fingers.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, absolutely still. His voice cracked. “You’re… fuck.”

You pulled his finger out with a soft pop, licking the rest off with lazy strokes of your tongue. Then kissed his fingertips like a thank you.

“I told you,” you said, voice breathy, lips glistening. “I think about you a lot.”

Anton groaned like he was in pain. His hips jolted beneath you—he was hard again, obviously, pressed against your inner thigh through his pants. He looked overwhelmed, like he didn’t know if he should fall at your feet or pull you into him and never let go.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” he said, voice shaking, hands gripping your thighs again like he might lose control.

You smiled, leaning in, lips brushing his ear. Your voice dropped to a murmur.

“Good. I want to ruin you.”

And judging by the way he whimpered beneath you—

You already had.

You felt the pressure of him beneath you — hard again, twitching under his sweats. You knew exactly what he was working with. You’d had it in your hand earlier, watched him fall apart from just your fingers. He was big. You’d felt the weight of it, the length, the way your hand couldn’t quite wrap fully around.

And now, sitting on him like this, flushed and wet and aching again…

You wanted it.

All of it. Like a challenge you wanted. You dreamt of him, sucking and fucking him but nothing can beat reality. You don't even know if you can fit it in you but...he's Anton. 

You shifted your hips slightly, feeling him rub against the thin fabric of your panties, and he choked on a breath, head falling back just a little.

“Y/N…” he whispered, wrecked.

You leaned in close, lips brushing his jaw. “I want to try.”

His hands stilled. “Try?”

You nodded, your lips ghosting over his. “I want to fuck you.”

He froze.

Then swallowed hard. “You… you’re serious? God, fuck, don't joke around like th-”

“Yeah.” Your smile was small, soft, but your eyes didn’t waver. 

He exhaled like he’d been holding it in forever. His hands squeezed your thighs, and you could feel how badly he wanted to give in. How much he was trying to hold back.

But then, in a quieter voice, almost shy, you admitted it—your fingers curling into his hair.

“But…will it fit?”

His breath caught. Like the question punched the air from his lungs.

He looked at you—completely undone. Eyes dark. Jaw clenched. Hands trembling slightly where they held you. And then he groaned, low and guttural, like he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Don’t say things like that, Y/N.”

You tilted your head, smirking slightly. “Why not?”

“Because I might not be able to stop.”

You chuckled, leaned down and kissed him—soft, slow, mouths open and warm. Then, without breaking eye contact, you reached between your bodies and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweats.

“Let me see you again.”

He lifted his hips just enough for you to slide them down. His length sprang free—thick, flushed, and glistening from the earlier mess you’d made of him. You paused, breath catching, and curled your fingers around him again—slow, deliberate strokes just to feel the weight of him in your hand.

“You’re really big…” you whispered.

Anton groaned, his head tipping back against the chair, fingers tightening on your thighs. “Y/N, please.”

You pulled your panties to the side, still wet, your folds slick and swollen from being teased and touched. You guided him to your entrance, the heat of him pressing right against where you ached most.

Then you stopped. Looked at him. Waited.

He met your gaze—nervous, reverent. “You sure?”

You nodded once. “Yeah. I want you.”

You started to sink down.

The stretch made your breath catch instantly. You winced a little. Trying to be strong, so you won't make him panic. You were tight—so tight around him—and your walls clenched on instinct. You paused halfway, gripping his shoulders for balance, your thighs trembling.

“God,” you gasped. “You’re… really big.”

“I can stop,” he said, instantly, voice trembling. “Just tell me.”

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Don’t. Just—go slow.”

He held perfectly still, letting you take control, your hips rocking little by little. Every inch felt deeper than the last. It wasn’t pain—it was overwhelming, hot, full.

Your brows pinched together, your mouth slack. His hands cradled your hips, thumbs brushing circles again, grounding you. Like he couldn’t believe he was inside you. Like he couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

When you finally took all of him, your bodies pressed flush together, you both stayed still—he buried deep inside, your chest rising and falling against his.

Your walls fluttered around him.

He moaned, deep in his throat. “Y/N… I’m gonna lose it.”

You leaned forward, kissing him softly, hands in his hair. “You feel amazing,” you whispered. “Don’t move yet. Just let me…”

You rolled your hips, testing it.

The friction sent sparks up your spine. You did it again, slower this time, and the way he groaned into your mouth had your core pulsing all over again.

He let you take the lead, hips rocking in tandem with yours, gasping every time you clenched around him. It was messy. Slippery. Intense.

You pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing every time you moved. “You’re so deep, baby.”

“I can feel all of you,” he panted. “You’re—God—you’re perfect, baby.”

Each thrust was a slow drag, the sound of your slickness meeting his every movement. His hands slid up your back, holding you close like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you.

“You okay?” he asked again, voice so soft it nearly broke you.

You kissed him. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. "God, so tight, fuck."

He rolled his hips into you, just enough pressure, enough rhythm to build the ache between your thighs back into something devastating. You held onto him, whimpering softly into his neck as he filled you over and over, that perfect angle hitting you deep every time.

“I’m close,” you whispered, barely a sound. “Anton—”

“Me too,” he breathed. “Where should I—?”

“Inside,” you said before you could stop yourself. “Please.”

His whole body stuttered. His thrusts got shakier, more desperate. And when you clenched around him one more time, your whole body trembling again—he buried his face into your neck and came with a breathless groan, pulsing inside you, holding you so close it felt like your bodies were trying to become one.

Neither of you moved for a long moment.

You just stayed there—sweaty, breathless, trembling, full.

His hands stroked your back, your thighs, anywhere he could reach.

“You okay?” he murmured.

You kissed his jaw. “Better than okay.”

“I—I feel like I’d get addicted to this,” Anton breathed. "You feel so good. Too good, baby."

His voice was barely a whisper, rasped into the warm space between your bodies. He was still inside you, still holding you like the world might tilt if he let go. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing patterns into your lower back like his body didn’t know how to stop touching you.

You let out a soft chuckle.

It wasn’t mocking—it was quiet, affectionate. Like his honesty touch ed something deep inside you.

“Yeah?” you murmured, brushing your lips against his temple. “That bad already?”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile. He just looked up at you, face flushed, eyes wide and dazed, like he wasn’t even trying to hide how much he meant it.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You feel like… everything. All at once.”

Your breath caught.

You weren’t expecting that. Not from the boy who used to steal half your fries, who’d blush if your knees brushed under the table. But there he was—bare, breathless, inside you, and saying things like that like it was nothing. Like it was true.

Your hand moved to his cheek, thumb brushing his skin. “You’re sweet when you’re fucked out.”

He huffed a soft breath. “I’m ruined.” His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you just a little closer again, like he couldn’t get enough.

You smiled. “Good.”

Then you leaned in, kissing him again—slow, deep, not rushed.

He melted into it instantly.

And when you pulled back, your nose brushing his, you whispered, “Because I think I’m addicted too.”

[deryicantwait]

𝖥𝖱𝖮𝖬 𝖠 𝖳𝖮 𝒵 ᕱ ᕱ i wanna speak "you"!

                  ❪ ➴ ❫─── 라이즈; hearing you speak your native language

ft. OT7 % fluff crack + hcs + 0k && w. i'm just yapping highkey + unspecified language so that this works for ALL of my baddies ˖ ✧

♡ [ t-t-teach me all about your (love) language ] : ty for sending in this request anon !! i hope i can continue to make you happy hehe :3

++ quick yap hi if i sched this right it should be on the day i start volunteering :3 also lwk gonna make an en- vrs of this so more ppl can see how funny i am

                  🔗. 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝙁𝗶𝗟𝗘 ᰈ̠ 𝗡𝘼𝗩𝗶𝗚𝘼𝗧𝗘 ✮ 𝗖𝙇𝗶𝗖𝗞

大崎将太郎 — ❪ OSAKI SHOTARO ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤi see him as being instantly drawn in by you speaking it. will pull out his glasses and go full language nerd mode TRUST me. he's gonna get on duolingo and be sapphire league in NO time. but definitely be ready for constant "hey, how do you pronounce this word again?"s or "WAITT what does that phrase mean :O"s. when (not if) he's decently fluent, he'd whip out his new skills to impress you EVERY chance he gets ><

송은석 — ❪ SONG EUNSEOK ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤyou cannot look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't be slightly annoying (but like affectionately) about it. giggles like a 12 year old if you curse in your language and says it sounds hotter (totally not based on irl events btw) because it's more "authentic" like !! you do you sir !! also asks you to teach him stuff like "ily" in the language to say it right back to you (even if he does lowkey butchers the pronunciation </3)

정성찬 — ❪ JUNG SUNGCHAN ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤstunned pikachu face reincarnation on god. no because he'd be so dramatic about it "how could you hide this from me 💔💔💔" type shit like chill please... he'd be such a fanboy about it though. "wait say that again. one more time. no wait, two more." would use wanting to learn the language as an excuse to rope you into so many movie nights w/ all your favorite ones in the same language

박원빈 — ❪ PARK WONBIN ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤhe will have literal heart eyes. argue with the wall idc. lowkey malfunctions, drops everything to stare at you. also be cautioned; he might get a little obsessed with it </3 would hold up things to you and ask you what you would call it in your language and go "woah..." every single thing.

홍승한 — ❪ HONG SEUNGHAN ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤtries to act nonchalant so hard but he's like swooning with 10 minutes. will also definitely use it as a way to be a flirt; he'd do all his research to curate the best pick up lines he can in your language just to match you whenever you ALSO he'd try to get the accent right (if there is one in the language) so hard and he'd decide that he can speak the language too now. trust him.

이소희 — ❪ LEE SOHEE ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤpretty boy would likely ask you your "favorite words / phrases" and learn them for you and will also be the biggest hype boy EVER + i think he'd also want to learn how to write basic stuff in the language so that he can leave you cute little notes. might also tear up if you something sweet / confess your love in the language; will insist he's fine though :(

이찬영 — ❪ LEE CHANYOUNG ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤprobably would act Kinda normal about it, he'd say something along the lines of "oh you can speak this language? i had no idea" but you will never catch him interrupting you EVER (which he wouldn't usually either, bc listener bf !! but especially when you're talking in your native language) and slightly similar to sungchan, but he'd get super into songs in that language + would love to listen to you sing along too

𐙚 . regulars : @x0llaz @fae-renjun @nicholasluvbot @totheseok @hanninova @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @cuntyhoesstuff @chrrific ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[deryicantwait]

texts with downbad!sungchan.

jung sungchan x fem!reader

. . smau oneshot , fluff , humour

note : never finished my eunseok fic so pls enjoy these rushed texts ㅠㅠ (sungchan is bias wrecking me sooo hard)

[deryicantwait]

he’s sprawled across the couch, legs open, one knee bent just enough to make your brain short-circuit. you don’t even try to hide the way you’re staring.

“stop staring,” he mumbles, shifting, his hand tugging self-consciously at the hem of his shorts. “you’re being a creep.”

you tilt your head. “can’t help it,” you say, voice low as your eyes drop to his thighs again - bare and golden, thick and so painfully distracting. “you’re the one sitting like that.”

“like what?”

“like you want me to stare.”

he groans, throwing his head back against the couch cushion. “you’re so annoying.” but his voice is soft. breathy. the kind of whiny that makes your stomach flip.

you lean forward, fingers brushing just above his knee.

“i bet you’d let me sit right here,” you murmur, voice dropping as you slide your hand a little higher, “and ride you until you beg.”

his breath catches and he whines. you feel it in his thighs, the way they twitch under your touch, like he’s already struggling to stay still.

“baby,” he breathes, head falling back again. “please. do something.”

you hum, slow and teasing as you climb onto the couch, straddling his thighs without asking. his breath hitches.

he looks up at you through his lashes, all flushed cheeks and parted lips, like he’s already ruined and you haven’t even touched him properly yet.

his fingers tighten on your hips, desperate and shaky.

“please,” he whispers again, voice wrecked and needy. “wanna feel you.”

you rock your hips down slowly, just enough for him to feel the pressure, not nearly enough to give him what he wants. “feel me where, baby?”

he whimpers, face twisting in frustration. “you know where,” he mutters, breath catching when you roll your hips again, a little deeper this time.

you lean in, lips brushing over his jaw. “say it.”

he swallows hard. “want you to ride me.” his voice is almost a sob now. “need it so bad. need you, please - ”

you kiss him then, slow and deep, swallowing the rest of his pleading. his hands slip beneath your sweatshirt, fingers splayed across your lower back like he’s trying to pull you closer, like he’ll fall apart if you move away.

you pull back just enough to murmur against his lips.

“you’re gonna be good for me?”

he nods, dazed. “i’m always good for you.”

you smile as your hand finds its way to his flushed cheeks, "prove it"

[deryicantwait]

hey ilysm Ur work is amazinggggg I was wondering if U could do yeon sieun w a short fem reader i think it would be a cute match because they're both short yk anyways nsfw is fine idrk have any specific requests on that Ty take Ur time💕💕

“Small But Mighty”

Yeon Si-eun x Short Fem Reader Playful teasing, tender intimacy, soft NSFW ~1k words

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’ve always been the smaller one. Not just in height—barely reaching Si-eun’s shoulder—but in presence, or so you thought. Except with him, it was different.

He never treated you like you were “less.” In fact, the smaller you were, the more fiercely he seemed to protect you, and the more he loved teasing you in that quiet, sly way he has.

Tonight was no different.

The two of you had been hanging out in his room after training—just the usual quiet space, where he could take off his guard and you could be yourself without the world watching.

You leaned against his chest as he sat on the edge of the bed, fingers running absently through your hair. You were wearing his oversized hoodie that swallowed you whole, the sleeves trailing past your hands, and soft leggings that hugged your legs.

He smiled against your hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Otherwise, I might have to start calling you my little pest.”

You snorted. “Is that what I am? A pest?”

Si-eun chuckled, a deep, slow sound. “Maybe. But the kind of pest I don’t want to get rid of.”

You lifted your chin, eyes bright despite the lazy exhaustion settling in your limbs. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

He tightened his hold, one arm around your waist, the other hand tracing circles on your hip. “Good.”

His fingers wandered lower, fingers brushing the curve of your waist just beneath the hem of the hoodie. You felt a shiver ripple through you—not from cold, but from the subtle intimacy of it.

“You’re so small,” he whispered. “I could wrap my hands around you and never want to let go.”

You smiled shyly, heart pounding. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Never,” he replied, voice thick.

He bent to press a soft kiss to your temple, then trailed down to your neck, lips brushing over your skin in featherlight touches that made your breath hitch.

“You’re so soft,” he said quietly. His hand slid under the hoodie, tracing the warmth of your skin.

Your fingers curled into his shirt. “Si-eun…”

He looked up, eyes dark and heavy with want. “You’re not just small,” he said, voice rough. “You’re fierce. And I want to show you just how much.”

The room grew warmer as his hands explored the curve of your body, careful and reverent despite the growing hunger in his gaze.

You tugged the hoodie up just enough for his lips to brush against the top of your chest, teasing the skin beneath. He sighed, a deep, needy sound that made your stomach twist deliciously.

“You’ve been hiding all this from me,” he murmured. “Don’t know how I managed to keep my hands off for so long.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat blooming everywhere. “You’re terrible.”

He smirked. “I’m exactly what you need.”

You laughed softly, the sound a balm against the tension in your muscles. “Is that a promise?”

“Absolutely.”

His lips found yours then—slow, searching, like he was memorizing every inch of you. You melted into him, heart pounding as his hands cradled your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, “You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair. “Me too.”

Si-eun’s hands slid beneath your leggings, fingers tracing gentle paths along your thighs. Your breath hitched at the contrast between his rough touch and the softness of your skin beneath.

He kissed a trail down your neck, jaw, then back to your lips—urgent, but patient, like he wanted to savor every second.

When he finally helped you out of the hoodie, you were bare beneath, and he didn’t hide the way his eyes darkened with appreciation.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re perfect.”

You grinned, emboldened by his praise. “Show me.”

He didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up your sides, thumbs teasing over your ribs before settling on your breasts. His grip was firm but gentle, and you gasped at the rush of sensation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I want to make you feel good. All night.”

You nodded, heart pounding. “Please.”

The rest of the night melted into soft moans and whispered names. Si-eun was careful and attentive, his every touch sending waves of pleasure through you.

He kissed every inch of you like it was a secret only the two of you shared—his hands exploring, worshiping, memorizing.

You felt safe in his arms, adored in a way you’d never expected.

When you finally collapsed against his chest, breathless and content, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You’re small,”(bitch so are you) he murmured, “but you take up my whole world.”

And you believed him.

[deryicantwait]

suho being an extremely jealous person is SO canon to me but i also think he's very conscious of not being controlling/overbearing?? so when he needs to get his possessiveness out of his system he tries to do it in subtle ways. e.g. trying to get sieun to wear one of his windbreakers.

suho: hey wear this

sieun: why? i have my own

suho: doesn't matter just wear this

sieun: no it's too big

suho, at his limit: THEN ROLL UP THE DAMN SLEEVES

eventually he manages to wrestle one onto him and sieun wears it to school. baku n the gang immediately notice bc? yeon sieun? wearing anything to school but his uniform? so they go hey is that suho's? and sieun's like yeah, he gave it to me. dunno why but he rlly wanted me to have it. juntae, our emotionally intelligent king, later takes sieun aside and is like, bro. you know why suho wants you to wear his jacket right? and sieun's like?? no? so juntae is like, he wants to make it obvious.

sieun: make what obvious?

juntae: that you're his.

cue sieun getting very red in the face and changing the topic.

(and yet, he doesn't take the jacket off the entire day.)

[deryicantwait]

continuing my sieun having an all-girl friend group in university hc ,,,, none of the girls in his friend group are romantically interested in sieun but they are VERY interested in who he is romantically interested in, so he's constantly being pestered abt what his type is or if he's dating anyone or if he finds that girl pretty or, sieun-ah she totally smiled at you, ask for her number!!

at first he mostly ignores them but finally he can't take it anymore and just goes "stop. i'm already dating someone." that ofc IMMEDIATELY backfires bc they all refuse to let it go and want all the details of his "mystery girlfriend" that he's been hiding from them. sieun tries to put it off but eventually their relentlessness makes him cave so he just, pulls out his phone and shows them.

all the girls eagerly crowd around his phone only for the person on the screen not to be a pretty girl, but to be? a boy? he looks around their age. long dark hair, arrogant smile, one eye squeezed shut in a flirtatious wink at the camera. he's hot, really hot, actually (damn), but ?? who is that?

sieun totally straight-faced just says, "my boyfriend. ahn suho."

it takes the girls all of 2 seconds to adjust to the fact that sieun essentially just came out to them and immediately jump to protective friend mode. they demand a time for them to meet this “ahn suho” bc they simply must to determine whether this man is worthy of their dear sieun-ie. (he is.)

[deryicantwait]

drunken love confessions by dreamies

⤷ summary : drunk texts/voicemails/etc you receive.. to see drunk nct dream accidentally (not) confessing their love to you.

warning : a little suggestive for jenos.

𓂃 annas note : i mixed this idea and some prompts i’ve got written down to do this. hopefully you guys enjoy!! :3 it was fun writing.

MARK LEE :

you received 1 new voice message: today, 2:30am.

you open your voicemail and see that mark had left you one. you were a little confused and a bit worried but you put it on speaker as it played. all you could hear was some loud music blasting and marks voice over the top of it, his words slurred. you shake your head, ‘oh god.. i can only imagine what this is going to be.’

“i can’t believe you didn’t pick up ynnie.. missed you so much today, you know? i don’t know, there’s something about the vibe when you’re not here like it’s just not as lively as it usually is. maybe that’s just me. haha. um- uh- i really don’t know what to say because i expected you to pick up but i do realise it’s late so i apologise about that, i lost track of time there haha.. well, me and the boys went out drinking and.. maybe i had a little more than i expected but like, i wanted to relax, you know? wind down a bit. i was going to say something but i forgot-“ he got cut off by another males voice, sounded like jeno, “he was going to admit he likes you~” and then you heard a loud slap. “jeno!!” mark whined. “god anyway, yes i was going to confess to you. i just.. these past couple of months, they’ve been great you know, we’ve been hanging out a lot more and personally i feel we’re growing to be more than friends hahaha.. i really do like you, no scratch that, i think i love you. i like.. love you more than anyone else i’ve ever done before in my life. it’s crazy- haha- you know when you’re in love? you just feel so different like a changed man.. well maybe not a changed man but you know what i mean, right? i just feel like ive become a better person with you by my side and i really-“ dial tone.

and the voicemail was over. you just chuckled to yourself, fanning your cheeks as you felt yourself grinning just a little too much at his cute confession. you’ll text him about it shortly - for now, you need to calm down your racing heart.

HUANG RENJUN :

you received 2 new voice messages: today, 1:27am.

“mmmm… ynnie? ah, you didn’t pick up. it’s okay, i’ll leave you a voicemail. so.. um, it was really nice seeing you before! i’m so sad you had to leave so early though, we were just getting so settled with one another and the others stopped teasing me for a bit.. they’re back to it now because i look like a ‘kicked puppy’ apparently without you here. maybe i feel that way because i miss you.. i miss your company already please come back!~ anyway what i wanted to call about was.. godddd, why are you so stupid? huh? so so stupid and so blind to not see what i was trying to do with you. i thought you’d be able to but you’re so oblivious all the time.. i bet you’re like, huh? with that cute tone of yours and the way you tilt your head.. ahh..~ what i mean is, that.. that i’m so in love with you. with everything about you. from your perfect tone of voice, your beautiful eyes that shine when you see something that you like, the way you look up at me, the way you dress, your personality.. it’s so hard not to fall for someone as perfect as you..”

next voicemail.

“shit i got cut off- but anyway, you know like.. i hope you reciprocate my feelings but- but if you don’t it’s okay, we can just pretend like this never happened and go back to the way things were. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable but i fear i might’ve and oh god— hold on, jisung doesn’t look so good.”

LEE JENO :

LEE HAECHAN :

haechan's voice was the only thing ringing through your ears at this moment in time, the dimly lit room and on goers to the party soon fading into the background. he was out of his mind- flushed cheeks, unfocused eyes and a lazy grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"you live in my head and my heart, can't you see that?" his words are slurred but the desperation in his voice was unmistakable. your breath caught in your throat, "haechan, you're drunk." you claim.

he scoffed and ran a frustrated hand through already messy hair, "yeah? so what. doesn't make it any less true." his gaze locked onto yours, raw and pleading. "you're always here." he tapped his temple. "and here," his hand clutched at his chest. "i don't know how to make you see it."

the weight of his confession pressed between you, heavier than the alcohol in his system. what were you supposed to say?

NA JAEMIN :

ZHONG CHENLE :

you received one new voice message, today at 7:00pm .

"you know.. you should’ve said it earlier, idiot. i love you, can’t you see? i can’t believe you waited until you got out of my car to say that just so you could run off. you’re lucky you’re cute. meet me tomorrow at the restaurant, ‘kay? you know which one i’m on about and dress nicely. i’ll treat you like you deserve alright.” he says to you on the other line. you couldn’t help but fight back a small smile coming onto your lips, of course chenle would say that.

PARK JISUNG :

you and jisung had spent the whole day together, gaming and having a laugh, shared cuddles and looks that were definitely more than platonic. everyone around you guys had told you that there’s no way you’re both just friends, there’s some tension and you didn’t realise that until now. when you look up at jisung after cuddling on his chest, you notice him focusing his gaze on the tv, biting back a smile as he can sense your eyes on him. your heart jumps in your chest. shit. was it just the alcohol you both had drunk 2 hours ago or was it your feelings? maybe the second option. for sure.

“hey, yn, can i say something to you?” jisung mumbled as he finally looked down at you, you just hum in response. he lets out a deep sigh and bites his lip, “um.. well, i’m head over heels for you. you deserve to know and im sorry i’m only telling you this now. i can’t hide it anymore, i really can’t do it. i love you. a lot. and i-“ you didn’t let him finish, pressing a hard kiss to his lips as he melts into it with a groan.