bisou-matte

[bisou-matte]

why's it so hard to write a makeout scene, everything just ends up so repetitive

[bisou-matte]

long hair anton save me long hair anton

[bisou-matte]

☽｡⋆

[bisou-matte]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDOPAMINE ──── be my little secret

( 𝓝 ) ╱ fem! reader 𓈒𓈒𓈒 skinship established relationship ─── 𝒔. secret relationship with jungwon

hiding your relationship with jungwon didn’t turn out to be as hard as you thought it would be. he’s surprisingly good at keeping secrets, and with him, it all feels natural. secret kisses shared when no one's watching, late-night texts that make your chest feel warm, coded touches under tables — small, quiet ways of saying “i love you” without a single word.

jungwon has an entire folder of you on his phone. whenever there’s even a moment, his camera is pointed in your direction. he loves taking pictures of you when you’re not paying attention — whether you’re out with friends or alone with him, you’re always the subject of his focus. “won, i wasn’t even looking,” you mumble as he snaps a photo of you mid-ice cream bite. “doesn’t matter,” he replies, pulling you closer with an arm around your shoulder. “you still look beautiful.”

whenever he’s at your place, jungwon gets sleepy. something about being next to you relaxes him completely. he lies beside you, lashes brushing against his cheeks, black hair messy over the pillow, cheek smushed into the softness as you talk about anything. your voice soothes him — not even trying to — and he falls asleep just listening to you, his breathing soft against your skin.

jungwon always saves a seat for you. when you’re meeting up with friends, he’s constantly checking the door, phone already open to your messages. if anyone dares to sit next to him, he’s quick to stop them with a hand over the chair. “she told me to save this spot,” he says, not even caring how obvious he sounds. his friends know better than to argue.

he always wears a hair tie on his wrist — not for himself, but for you. it’s second nature now. whenever your hair slips in front of your face while you’re eating, he’s already reaching out to tie it back without needing to be asked. and when his friends raise an eyebrow, he just shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “what?” he says. “i’m helping.”

his hoodies slowly become yours without either of you saying anything. one day you’re borrowing one, and the next it’s folded in your drawer like it’s always belonged there. he never asks for them back. he just smiles when he sees you wearing them, like it’s his favorite view in the world.

he only shares his food with you. it’s an unspoken rule. he’ll offer you the last bite without hesitation, but if someone else tries to sneak a taste, his plate is already out of reach. food just tastes better when you’re next to him — he says that all the time, and he means it.

jungwon sends you gentle little messages throughout the day, like petals drifting into your hands — soft reminders that you’re on his mind. “have you eaten?” “thinking of you.” “how’s your day going?” each one is a thread, weaving his presence into your day even from afar. and somehow, every time his name appears on your screen, the world feels softer, more bearable.

jungwon, who rests his head on your shoulder whenever he’s bored, eyes fluttering shut as he relaxes beside you, nearly drifting off. under the table, your fingers find his, intertwining like it’s second nature. by now, your friends are convinced the two of you are wildly in love and just haven’t realized it yet.

jungwon, who accidentally calls you “babe” in the middle of a sentence, and when he catches himself, he immediately starts singing some random tune to cover up the slip — as if that could distract anyone from the blush rising on his cheeks.

at parties, jungwon sticks to your side like glue, making sure no one thinks about approaching you. his only excuse? he's just being protective. and you, of course, can’t help but tease him — joking that he’s scaring the hoes just to watch the jealousy flash across his face.

you go out on little dates and your friends immediately get suspicious. one time, you sent a photo from that cute ice cream place you’d been wanting to try, and within minutes, your friend was blowing up your phone with questions — because it’s painfully obvious there’s another ice cream next to yours. you just reply with a smiley emoji and say it’s “just” jungwon, brushing it off like he’s simply being nice because he knew how much you wanted to go.

[bisou-matte]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDOPAMINE ──── be my little secret

( 𝓝 ) ╱ fem! reader 𓈒𓈒𓈒 skinship established relationship ─── 𝒔. secret relationship with jungwon

hiding your relationship with jungwon didn’t turn out to be as hard as you thought it would be. he’s surprisingly good at keeping secrets, and with him, it all feels natural. secret kisses shared when no one's watching, late-night texts that make your chest feel warm, coded touches under tables — small, quiet ways of saying “i love you” without a single word.

jungwon has an entire folder of you on his phone. whenever there’s even a moment, his camera is pointed in your direction. he loves taking pictures of you when you’re not paying attention — whether you’re out with friends or alone with him, you’re always the subject of his focus. “won, i wasn’t even looking,” you mumble as he snaps a photo of you mid-ice cream bite. “doesn’t matter,” he replies, pulling you closer with an arm around your shoulder. “you still look beautiful.”

whenever he’s at your place, jungwon gets sleepy. something about being next to you relaxes him completely. he lies beside you, lashes brushing against his cheeks, black hair messy over the pillow, cheek smushed into the softness as you talk about anything. your voice soothes him — not even trying to — and he falls asleep just listening to you, his breathing soft against your skin.

jungwon always saves a seat for you. when you’re meeting up with friends, he’s constantly checking the door, phone already open to your messages. if anyone dares to sit next to him, he’s quick to stop them with a hand over the chair. “she told me to save this spot,” he says, not even caring how obvious he sounds. his friends know better than to argue.

he always wears a hair tie on his wrist — not for himself, but for you. it’s second nature now. whenever your hair slips in front of your face while you’re eating, he’s already reaching out to tie it back without needing to be asked. and when his friends raise an eyebrow, he just shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “what?” he says. “i’m helping.”

his hoodies slowly become yours without either of you saying anything. one day you’re borrowing one, and the next it’s folded in your drawer like it’s always belonged there. he never asks for them back. he just smiles when he sees you wearing them, like it’s his favorite view in the world.

he only shares his food with you. it’s an unspoken rule. he’ll offer you the last bite without hesitation, but if someone else tries to sneak a taste, his plate is already out of reach. food just tastes better when you’re next to him — he says that all the time, and he means it.

jungwon sends you gentle little messages throughout the day, like petals drifting into your hands — soft reminders that you’re on his mind. “have you eaten?” “thinking of you.” “how’s your day going?” each one is a thread, weaving his presence into your day even from afar. and somehow, every time his name appears on your screen, the world feels softer, more bearable.

jungwon, who rests his head on your shoulder whenever he’s bored, eyes fluttering shut as he relaxes beside you, nearly drifting off. under the table, your fingers find his, intertwining like it’s second nature. by now, your friends are convinced the two of you are wildly in love and just haven’t realized it yet.

jungwon, who accidentally calls you “babe” in the middle of a sentence, and when he catches himself, he immediately starts singing some random tune to cover up the slip — as if that could distract anyone from the blush rising on his cheeks.

at parties, jungwon sticks to your side like glue, making sure no one thinks about approaching you. his only excuse? he's just being protective. and you, of course, can’t help but tease him — joking that he’s scaring the hoes just to watch the jealousy flash across his face.

you go out on little dates and your friends immediately get suspicious. one time, you sent a photo from that cute ice cream place you’d been wanting to try, and within minutes, your friend was blowing up your phone with questions — because it’s painfully obvious there’s another ice cream next to yours. you just reply with a smiley emoji and say it’s “just” jungwon, brushing it off like he’s simply being nice because he knew how much you wanted to go.

[bisou-matte]

ㅤㅤㅤ ❜ㅤㅤㅤHEESEUNGㅤㅤ&ㅤㅤHIS LOVE

( ୨ৎ ) ╱ fem! reader 𓈒𓈒𓈒 skinship established relationship kissing ─── 𝒔. heeseung loves his girlfriend

heeseung could swear that there is nothing in this world that he loves more than you — your face, your smell, the way you laugh, or how tight you hug him when you miss him. just thinking about your beautiful face or your sweet voice is enough to swells his heart with affection. to him, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and he makes sure you know how much you are cherished and loved. his determination to show love every day is almost laughable because it is so adorable — waking you up with good morning messages, asking how you slept, always being the first to send messages, no matter the occasion.

if you turned to him with those big, pretty eyes, asking for anything with a soft “pretty please,” he’d drop everything to get it for you, *his girl.* when you point to the window of the plush machine, showing him an adorable plush bunny sitting at the bottom of the machine, he couldn't say no to you. rolling up his sleeves to show off, "leave it to me, babe. we're not leaving until i get it." he says, approaching the toy with determination to get the plush you want, and he wouldn't leave until he got it for you, even if he failed five stressful times.

he could make a million declarations to you—writing letters and songs to express just how much he loves you—and still, there would be words left unsaid.

sometimes he catches himself thinking about you, about the little details of your face and all the tiny things that make his heart race. the way your eyes sparkle when you’re excited, the smile that’s always meant for him. oh, and your lips—how he loves them. he can never resist the urge to kiss you breathless. if you’re lying together watching movies, forget it—he’s way more focused on having his lips on yours. when he misses you too much, he’s the one all over you, seeking out your warmth and those kisses he’s so obsessed with.

his clothes are yours too. he couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed when he realized that his hoodie or a shirt was missing, knowing that they were most likely in your closet instead. when you went out together on a cold day, he knew that eventually the night would end with you wearing his jacket. and when you wore your shirts to bed? that would be the end of him. his heart melting in his chest just at the sight of you so beautiful being drowned by the fabric, “what are you going to steal next, mhm?” he asks, his voice muffled against your hair as he hugs you tightly and places kisses on the top of your head, inhaling deeply your scent. “my last name?”

he always needs to be near you, whether it’s with a hand on your waist or an arm lazily draped around your shoulders to keep you close. his hand always finds your thigh when you're sitting together, absentmindedly caressing the soft skin under his fingers. if he sees you a little too far from him, he’s immediately pulling you back into his side. he’s constantly covering you in kisses—on your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere he can reach—murmuring how beautiful you look or how much he adores you.

public displays of affection are his favorite, and god help anyone who doesn’t understand that heeseung just loves being close to his girl. no matter the situation, he’s always seeking the warmth of your body. he’ll hug you from behind and keep you snug against his chest, his silent way of letting the world know you’re his—so no one even thinks about getting too close. “sungie,” you murmur when you notice people staring, but he just hums, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “what? can’t i kiss my girl?”

he just can’t resist you: “baby, give me a kiss.” he pouts, because obviously you’ve been busy for far too long—long enough that he can’t help but pull you into his arms. he looks at you with big, deer-like eyes, wide and sparkling like he can’t stand even the smallest distance between you. it starts with a kiss to your temple, then more that trail all over your face until you’re laughing and squirming from the ticklish feeling, cheeks flushed and a wide smile on your lips—the very one he loves so much.

[bisou-matte]

my flamin' hot lemon as amazing in that denim she’s sweet like watermelon ──── i love the way you taste ✿

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐀𝐋𝐋ㅤㅤ( 𝟏 )

one. cherish my love ╱ fluff

two. favorite places to kiss you ╱ fluff

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLEE HEESEUNG

one. his love ╱ headcanon (revamped)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPARK JONGSEONG

nothing yet ╱

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSIM JAEYUN

nothing yet ╱

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPARK SUNGHOON

one. daydream ╱ fluff

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤKIM SUNOO

nothing yet ╱

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYANG JUNGWON

one. dopamine ╱ headcanon

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNISHIMURA RIKI

nothing yet ╱

[bisou-matte]

ㅤㅤㅤ✉️ ❛ ───── ⠀𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎

𝐌.ㅤㅤ ㅤenhypen × afab reader◞ fluff, skinship, lots of kissesㅤ( 835 )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖲𝖤𝖴𝖭𝖦

his favorite place to kiss you would be your face. when his doe eyes fall on you it's as if he is immediately enchanted by all your features from your soft lips to your beautiful eyes, and the moles that adorn your face. he'd love to keep you close at all times, and it would only be better if he could kiss you while holding you tight against him. when you're too busy to return his affection with the same warmth, he'd cling to you, following you around like a puppy just to steal one kiss. and when you finally give in, giving him some of your attention, he’d cradle your face in his hands, peppering you with kisses all over your face until you are breathless. when he gets the chance to kiss her like that, it becomes nearly impossible for him to let go—because he loves you and your pretty face.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝖩𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖦

jongseong loves back hugs, if he could spend all his time with just his face tucked into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses while inhaling your scent he would, there’s no better place to be. his favorite moments would be when you’re in the kitchen, making dinner or trying out new recipes while chatting about your day. and of course, he’d love to rest his head on your shoulder, or let his chin rest there while you’re focused on something on the counter, with your back to him. he’d wrap his arms around your waist, keeping you close, letting his lips brush your shoulder and neck while he breathes in your scent—the one he loves as much as he loves you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖸𝖴𝖭

jake would always want to have his hands intertwined with yours, whether you're walking together or just watching a movie. he'd keep your fingers laced with his, a quiet way of staying connected. when you're lying down, your head resting on his arm, he’d reach out to find your hand again, fingers slipping between yours. it’s a soft, gentle way of keeping you close, even when you can't hold each other tightly. he loves how your hand fits in his—smaller, delicate—so he’ll leave kisses on your palm or the back of your hand, his thumb softly tracing your skin. and when you both wear your rings, he’ll glance at yours with a goofy smile, completely in love with the reminder that you're his, and he's yours.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮𝖮𝖭

sunghoon would love to kiss your neck. he couldn’t help himself—it was his favorite place to kiss you. he’d cover your neck in soft kisses, sometimes even in public, leaving your cheeks flushed and your skin tingling. he’d use it as leverage over you, knowing exactly how it made you feel. when you’re alone, he’d get bold, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin, fully aware it would leave visible marks later. your protests for him to stop would fall on deaf ears. and when you complained too much, he’d just shut you up with a kiss, making you surrender all over again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖮𝖮

cheek kisses would be like a simple exchange of affection between the two of you, or anything that involves touching the plump flesh — whether it be pinching each other's cheeks, giving playful kisses or biting. he would always say goodbye by giving you a kiss on the lips and then on your cheeks, never stopping at just one, but two, maybe three. If he saw you distracted, he would approach you and leave a little kiss on your cheek, startling you. and whenever he could, he would do it, leaving little kisses on your cheek, just to see your smile appear and your face light up with the gesture.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝖩𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖶𝖮𝖭

he’d love to leave kisses on the shell of your ear. it started as a joke for him—he just loves seeing your annoyed expression every time he plants a loud smooch there when you’re distracted. to quiet your protests, he’d wrap his arms around your waist, holding you close while leaving kiss after kiss until, instead of grumbling, laughter starts slipping from your lips. he gives you long, lingering kisses just to see the way your face turns red from the affection, and you shyly cover your cheeks. that makes him smile, his signature boyish grin lighting up his face as he pulls you into a tight hug.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝖱𝖨𝖪𝖨

i can see riki as the kind of boyfriend who just can’t let go of you. no matter the time or place, he’d always want to have you in his arms. even if he was in front of the computer, deep into video games, he’d still pull you into his lap, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder or neck every now and then. and when he got a break, he’d kiss your lips and hardly let you go. he’d love to interrupt you mid-sentence with kisses, just because he can. and whenever the two of you were alone, he’d be all over you, turning quiet moments into make-out sessions without a second thought.

[bisou-matte]

kinda got a thing for anton these days

[bisou-matte]

i want to post asap but college has been taking up all my time

[bisou-matte]

𝗖𝗔𝗡'𝗧 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ──── OO1. CARRDㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤBLOGRULES

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOO2. BOOKSHELVES 𓍼ㅤENHYPENㅤRIIZEㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ [ 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗦𝗬𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗠 ]

[bisou-matte]

heartlink - anton lee

it's a match!

pairing; anton x reader || wc; 5.1k

⟡ cautions heavy noncon, use of the word 'rape', stalking, emphasis on reader’s emotions

⟡ this is the third n final part of 'heartlink' !! pls b sure to read the first two parts okii <3

𐙚 001 002

anton had always been good with people. 

his mother said he was charming. his friends told him that he was pleasing to look at and be around with. he’s heard girls saying he’s easy on the eye. 

he made girls glance thrice and made them giggle behind their hands as they whispered to one another. 

anton had an effortless kind of charm—it’s in the way he smiled, in the way his eyes held warmth that made someone feel like they were special. like, he was seeing only them. he was great with his words too—he knew the right adjectives to use, the right tone to take, the exact moment to pause so his words could sink in just right. the right expression to have on his face, every crinkle and wrinkle, frowning, and nodding. it wasn’t something he forced—anton simply knew people. 

he knew how to make them want to be around him, how to have and hold their attention without needing to put too much effort.

but that didn't mean they stayed. 

because charm alone wasn’t sufficient. 

for all the attention he received, anton was shy. painfully so.

a disease that ruined him.

it stole his words, made him hesitate, lost the chance, let opportunity after opportunity slip right through his fingers like silk. pretty pretty girls liked him, fawned over, swept under—but never stayed long enough to really know him as a person. they just liked him as an idea, a concept, an abstraction. they never saw past the quiet exterior nor understood that his silence wasn’t disinterest—that it was a hurdle, one that needed time, patience, and a little bit of faith.

they lost interest before he could show them what could’ve been. what he could’ve been. before he could even try.

it wasn’t fair—it wasn’t his fault. 

so anton was determined to do something —to fix, to learn.

he learned how to tilt things in his favour, how to bend and mend moments to make them his. all needed was a little push, a little persistence, a little manipulation sprinkled here and there—there was no harm in that. as long as they never knew.  anton could make fate bend.

if the universe wasn’t going to give him what he wanted, he would make it happen.

and for a while, it worked. too well, in fact.

anton got good, got better at it—he got better in wovening people to where he wanted them to be. it was so easy for him that the thrill of it dulled over time. there was no challenge, no fixation, no reward. once they were his, he realised that he didn’t want them anymore.

it was frustrating at first—he got what he wanted in his palm, but now he’s scraping them away like they meant nothing. he had worked so hard and learned so much to unfold things exactly where he intended. so he moved on—over and over—new person, new thread to tug, new tactics learned for his book—until he lost the appeal.

then he stopped altogether. went back to his old ways—not entirely—just focusing on what truly made him happy; his friends, his mother. but that didn’t last long.

until you. 

until he saw you.

anton hadn’t even meant to see you that day. he was simply dropping off his friend, sohee, at his university since he had promised him the day before. and anton was barely paying attention to his vicinity until he did—because suddenly you walked past by his car.

and everything that anton thought he knew about himself, the things he thought he had grown tired of came roaring back to his life. it was like a realisation, a wake up call—so violent it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

the difference with you was you didn’t spare another, not even a glance in anton’s way. you walked past without a single idea that something about you had flipped a switch within anton that he never knew he’d never be able to turn it off.

you’re so perfect in anton’s eyes.

so perfect that he didn’t see you as a game—a challenge—but an end to his new persona. he had already learned how to make things happen; he just needed to do it again, and do it right this time. 

this time, there would be no losing interest.

because this time, he wasn’t going to let you go again.

——

it started small. anton always started small.

a few days after something in him lurched, he'd gotten your name. it wasn’t hard at all—he just went through sohee’s following, and from there, searched for you in other people’s following. and after what felt like hundreds of profiles clicking, he found your social. 

your schedule was another. thankfully, the university you attended didn’t offer as many courses as other universities did. you took nursing—anton thought it suited you. a pretty girl with a kind heart, and anton could only guess a purer soul. 

a little bit of information that wasn’t his to have but found its way into his hands anyway was what anton called fate. sohee had access to the university’s system—just his academic email and password, and anton had the namelist of students, their course, and their class schedule. oh, where she would be and when.

then, it wasn’t about coincidences anymore. anton knew that much—he couldn’t just come up to you, throw some compliments and sweet talks, and expect things to fall into place. anton might be shy, but he wasn’t stupid.

with you, he needed precision, needed a reassurance that your paths would cross again. anton had played a game of luck and chances, and each time he did, he lost the enjoyment right after. so he tweaked things a little, modified, adjusted his ways to ensure you would not slip through his fingers the way so many others had. 

he started watching. 

initially, it was just curiosity. he told himself he just wanted to confirm that the university’s course schedule was accurate. just a few lingering glances and parking a bit too long after dropping sohee off. anton just wanted to know what kind of outfits you wore on monday, tuesday, wednesday, and friday. 

then it became a habit.

he’s looking for excuses to be near the university—with only one being through sohee. he started sending, and picking sohee up after his classes. accompanied him, ate lunch with him, and even going as far as purposely having sohee toured him around the campus. he started memorising the times students flooded out of buildings, until he spotted you again.

but even that, merely observing wasn’t enough. 

you still didn’t know he existed—didn’t notice his car or his presence lingering around too long for society’s acceptance around the nursing building.

so with the patience he had, he waited until the semester was over and it was dreadful for him. anton knew what he was doing was bad—practically stalking and coming up with nonsense excuses to be within your perimeter. with no idea of where you lived, or where you worked, he only knew so little about you through your social—the one where you barely posted anything.

if it was the old him, he would’ve given up—but that version of him died long ago. anton simply stopped for a while, took a breather, rested a little… gave you some freedom and peace before the new semester began.

it was the weekend of the first week of semester break when anton was over sohee’s shared apartment. sohee had invited some friends over—their high school friends—for a boys’ night where they just usually drank alcohol, played games, and talked. anton wasn’t much of a drinker, but he enjoyed his friends’ company—an easy camaraderie that naturally came with a decade of familiarity. 

he was sitting on the couch, half-listening and nodding to a conversation about a professor sungchan loathed for being an asshole when a movement beside him caught his attention. 

sohee was scrolling through tinder.

anton didn’t think much of it except the fact that sohee’s attention was on something else while his friend was ranting, and he wasn’t interested either—at first. 

but then, sohee swiped left to the previous girl, and he saw you.

anton had almost missed it by a second—but there you were.

your profile was a picture you never posted on your instagram. your bio was short, just for fun, anton read in his mind. he didn’t know how long had you had your tinder account up—and he felt stupid for not going on that app when he’s around your campus.

he didn’t say anything, didn’t react—just kept watching from the corner of his eyes as sohee hovered over your profile, debating whether to swipe left or right. 

by the look of it, it didn’t seem like sohee knew or recognised you from his university as he swiped right. anton’s grip on his drink tightened—it didn’t matter. anton had already seen what he needed to see. it was an opening to him. it was fate—and anton didn’t even believe in fate. he believed in making things happen.

…and he did. he excused himself to the bathroom to create an account—chose the best selfie, the one that his mother complimented a lot, the one he didn’t use for his instagram’s display picture. put up a nice bio upon first impression, set his location radius around your university to ensure his face, or yours, would land on either one’s screen.

then it was just a matter of time.

anton knew good things took time—patience always yielded results but… it had been days since he made his tinder account and you still hadn’t shown up on his feed. he knew for one that tinder’s algorithm centred on location-based and it prioritised people nearby which meant…

he wasn’t close enough to you. physically. 

that night, an idea came to his head. he decided to look for you.

taking a long drive, anton’s fingers idly tapped against the steering wheel as he made his way towards where he first met you, the university. but a campus was too broad, so he needed to narrow it down. he drove around the neighbourhood with his tinder app on, refreshing every few minutes until your profile finally showed up.

anton inhaled sharply, throwing his head back against the headrest then took a screenshot of your profile, and swiped right. praying to all gods that it would be reciprocated. that you’d swipe right on him too. he was parked in front of an apartment complex. he had the base, knowing your room number wouldn’t be difficult then. 

a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

it wouldn’t be long now.

——

“no please, anton—i’ll—i’ll unblock you please, please,” your lips begin to tremble, pleads and words spilling out in broken gasps. your breath feels short and thin, as if the air fails to reach your lungs. anton’s grip on your wrist tightens, his slender fingers pressing into your skin with insistence. 

despite that, anton only smiles as he tugs you towards him. soft, patient, and mocking. “why do you always act like i’m a bad guy?” his grip squeezes around the curve of your wrist like a warning. “you act like i’m going to hurt you,” he chuckles—like it’s funny. 

your stomach churns, feet stumbling as he tugs you away from the restaurant—away from your friends’ laughter and voices inside. panic bursts through your veins like ice as you think of every horrible outcome out of this. “no—please,” your breath hitches, you place your other hand on his hand, nails pressed into his skin in desperation to pry him off. “i swear, fuck, anton please, please—”

his fingers only tighten when he feels your effort—digging your heels into the ground and struggling against his grip, but it’s useless. the night air is too cold, but somehow your skin is burning and your chest is heaving in panic attacks as he drags you past the sidewalk. 

no one’s paying attention, no one’s looking—just as anton likes it. 

tears spill down your cheek before you even realise that you’re crying. there’s a heavy pressure in your chest that swells, crushes, and suffocates you. you shake your head wildly while hitting anton’s hand and wrist—anywhere that you can hit, reach, hurt him with all your might. your hair sticks to the dampness on your cheeks.

you can’t breathe.

the fear only becomes unbearable when your mind reminds you that anton was a swimmer—broad shoulders, muscular, long arms—stronger, stronger, stronger than you. the thought crawls up your spine and chokes the breath right out of you. you can’t go against him, you realise. 

the tears only come faster and it’s starting to blur your vision as you beg and plead anton to let you go. he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even look back at you. he’s already made up his mind on what he’s going to do to you. your pleas are falling on deaf ears.

the restaurant lights are getting smaller, your mother’s voice telling you to stay safe only gets louder in your head as you pray to all gods to save you. but the street is empty—and the sky is dark.

the only answer you get is the sight of anton’s car, and the sound of him unlocking it.

anton exhales through his nose, his grip shifting and tightening. 

it happens so fast you don’t even have time to process it. 

he tugs you forward towards him and moves his arm to press against the small of your back—you feel the ground slip from under your feet. a panicked cry rips from your throat as your frail body jerks forward. it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, or how much you beg—your limbs feel useless, like you’re not even in control of them anymore. 

your hands push against his chest, gripping and tugging onto the fabric of his sweater but to no avail. your fingers ball into weak fists as you pound against him with all your might, sobs wracking your body.

anton doesn’t budge, nor does he flinch.

anton exhales—exasperated—he’s tired of your struggling. and suddenly, before you can react—let out a piercing scream and cry for help; his hands clamp down—curling around your wrist, the other gripping the back of your neck. hard. 

“anton—fuck! i’m sorry—!” your voice cracks as your hip slams against the door, the handle digs into your side. you’re being so fucking hard to handle. anton yanks the backseat door open. “get in,” his voice is low, a quiet command laced with something you don’t want to push.

you shake your head frantically, rubbing your hands together in a gesture of supplication, tears streaming down like waterfall. “i’ll talk to you, anton, just—please don’t do this—” anton doesn’t respond. your tears and pleads don’t move him.

they only tighten his pants.

he rolls his eyes and groans as he grips your hair with his fist, lowering your head to propel you in. your breath punches out of you as your palms skid helplessly against the leather seat. immediately, anton slides into the backseat with you. 

oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

you crawl and press yourself against the other door, fingers clawing at the handle as you yank it open—it’s locked and it’s not even budging. “anton, please,” your voice barely comes out, your chest heaving with short sobs. you pressed your back hard, as if trying to merge yourself with his car, to distance yourself from him, but it’s a vehicle, there’s nowhere to go. 

you feel suffocated, claustrophobic, the space closing in around you.

anton leans against the other side of the backseat. exhaling, slow and steady. one arm draped over the headrest as his long legs stretched out, manspreading like he didn’t just force a girl inside the backseat of his car. you’re choking on your own panic while he’s taking all the time in the world.

his eyes flicker over you, you’re not looking at him. you can’t bring yourself to look at him—you don’t want to look at the expression he has on his face. because it won’t match yours. it’s not regret, or fear, fear of getting… raped.

“i don’t know why you’re scared,” he finally says, tilting his head slightly as he looks at you. his voice is soft and… as usual, like it’s his effort to soothe you. it only makes the horror settle in your bones. 

this guy is fucking nuts, you thought. you shake your head, tears slipping down on his leather seat. maybe if you speak nicer—softer, he’d think twice. hesitate. “please, anton—just let me go… i’m so, so sorry,” you sob, your voice barely above a whisper. your heartbeat slams against your ribs, your body rigid and uncontrollable. 

anton simply watches you, then wraps his hand around your ankle. your instinct—in this case, fight or fight—kicks in before logic. you try to twist away, but his grip is unyielding. “no—no—!” you whimper and try to scramble back. 

anton shifts his weight—his body crowding yours as he forces you down against his seat. you squirm, your voice high and desperate. his hand finds your wrists, pinning them down above your head. he has you trapped underneath him completely. “shhh, shhh,” he murmurs, his other hand snatches your cheek gently, lovingly, squishing your cheeks, your trembling lips pursed together. “you’re okay, you’re okay…” 

anton hums as your pearly tears pile down his hand. “you always make things difficult,” he continues, tilting his head slightly as he leans down closer. his breath warm against your damp cheek “you’ll hurt yourself if you keep struggling.” he soothes.

he tilts his head slightly to graze the shell of your ear. his teeth catch on the skin. you feel his breath, the sensation and warmth shooting down your spine. “it’s just me,” his voice gentle—much like a lover than an assaulter—as he rolls his thumb against the beat of your pulse. he licks and sucks on the shell of your ear. “it’s just me,” he repeats. 

you let out another quiet sob when you feel his bulge pressed against your clothed pussy. anton lets out a soft groan in your ear, “do you feel that pretty? i’m so hard for you,” he moans softly as he continues to rub his tent against your pussy. you shake your head violently, letting out whimpers and soft sobs. anton lets out a sharp exhale before clicking his tongue, looking at you struggling beneath. 

your sobs are slowly grating against his patience…

“yn,” he says, his eyes sharp and irritated. his usual softness is gone.”i’ve been nothing but good, and patience with you,” he mutters, his grip on your cheeks tightening—almost bruising. “if you do anything weird, i’ll fucking kill you,” he continues, voice low and threatening. 

terror grips you like a vice. your breath lodges in your throat as your body immediately stiffens. you stomach churns, you think you might be sick. puke on him, puke on him—his threat echoes, louder than the pounding of your heartbeat in your head. i’ll fucking kill you.

his threat sounds more like a promise—and you try to say something, apologise, or anything, but nothing comes out. you force a nod but your body won’t move. you’re trapless and helpless as you try to pacify him. 

anton cracks a smile as he moves his hand from your cheeks, to pat your head, caressing your hair. “don’t make a sound,” he mutters as he begins tugging at your clothes—one by one—shushing and soothing your cries as he leaves you with nothing on but your pants and bra, his motions unhurried.

he sat back, humming softly. “‘m going to let go of your hands—and unless you want to touch me too, don’t even think about anything else.” anton says, slowly releasing his iron grip around your wrists. there’s an ache still pulsing, your arms remain above your head, fingers twitching to remember how to do something—but you don’t. you can’t.

anton leans down to place his lips on yours, his eyes flutter shut as he sighs against your lips. you don’t kiss back, but he doesn’t care. he deepens the kiss like it’s something you want too, smiling between the kisses. you only whimper. 

anton continues to ravish you with his lips, his free hand travels down to unbutton your jeans, tugging it down just enough to display your plain panties, and to position himself between your thighs. “i really want to take my time with you, but it’s so cold,” he lets out a dry chuckle, but nothing’s funny.  “anton, can—can we talk, please? please,” your voice comes in short. the air inside his car is thick as he slips his hand inside your panties.

it might be cold outside, but your pussy feels too warm for someone who claims to not want it.

you cry and squirm as you feel his palm makes contact with your bare cunt—anton now kisses the corner of your lips, slowly travelling down along your jaw and the curve of your shoulder. “you’re so tense. relax, pretty.” your stomach churns as his fingertips make minute circles on the nub of your clit. anton continues the simulation—drawing your juices out of you. 

he smacks gently on your pussy and it makes a slick, wet sound in the car. you flinch, disgusted and humiliated with yourself. you can feel how wet you’re getting—you chant that it’s your body’s natural response to being touched in a sexual manner. this is not what you want—this is rape, rape, rape.

anton simply smiles at your reaction before finding your entrance, and slips his index finger in. he feels your gummy walls as he finger-fucks you. anton’s single finger reaches the angle and parts your hand couldn’t. he is in the position to push deeper, and he does. after a few seconds of thrusting his index finger back and forth, anton slides another finger inside, stretching your entrance. “you’re so tight, it’s only my fingers…” he murmurs innocently, lips pressed forward slightly in a pouting manner. 

anton picks up his pace in fucking your pussy with his fingers, curling and pushing against your g-spot, your juices ooze on his hand, coating his fingers in a layer of your sweet fluid. anton watches you in amusement, lips parting slightly as he pulls out his fingers, glancing between his fingers, your teary face, and the way your pussy is twitching from merely his digits. 

wow, he’d break you with his cock… 

you cry and shut your eyes as tight as you can, refusing to believe that you are being put in this position. anton has you completely merciless underneath him—and there’s nothing you could do except pray that a meteor crashes the car and kills you, and him. 

wasting no time, anton unzips and pulls down his jeans; you don’t see it but you can feel—tell that his cock is hung, throbbing, needy. he picks up your hips easily, bringing you up against his pelvis. “i hope i’m your first,” you hear anton mumble. you don’t know if he’s talking to himself, or you.

you feel him positioning the head of his cock at your clenching pussy, slowly pushing himself inside. your breath hitches and you almost let out a muffled moan before biting down hard on your bottom lip. you’re not going to give anton the satisfaction of getting a moan out of you. it burns, and it hurts, a lot. you feel his cock expanding and stretching and overwhelmingly filling the empty tunnel in the worst way possible. you cry.

on the other hand, anton grunts, sinking his erection deeper that he can’t see the base of his cock, totally ignoring the way you’re sobbing on his leather seat. “my goodness baby, you’re so,” anton exhales, feeling your muscles clamp around his cock. he pushes his hips forward, thrusting and beginning to move. the friction of his cock sliding back and forth out of you sends sparks to your core. 

you can’t contain it—the air knocks from your lungs as anton only increases his pace. your tightness and your warmness sends anton to ecstasy. you clamp your hands on your mouth to suppress moanings, and anton doesn’t seem to mind it—not when he has you where he wants to. 

he reaches really deep inside of you—mercilessly driving and ramming his cock in-and-out of your pussy. “anton…” you mewled, muffled. anton nods, biting hard his lower lip as he leans down to place a soft kiss on your hands. “say it baby, say my name, c’mon,” he moans, his voice strains. 

you shake your head, turning your head to the side as your body betrays you. the shame of growing wetter sears through you. it disgusts you more than the man violating on top of you. your body betrays you—you can never forgive yourself, you’d kill yourself before ever admitting that it’s pleasurable. 

anton’s hands move to your hips, digging his nails into your plush flesh as he pulls you towards him to sink his cock deeper—past your cervix, knocking on your womb. he rams into you while planting kisses all over your face and body. nipping and biting and marking on your skin like canvas.

this was an experience you’ve never thought you’d face. every inch of anton—as he drags his cock halfway out before forcing it back inside of you makes your body withers beneath him. you let out another round of muffled sobs. anton notices and his heart swells and aches—almost. he hums as he dips his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your natural body’s scent. 

“you’re so soft, yn,” he murmurs against your skin. his movement slows, now pounding short and hard in what anton calls it intimate. “i love you so, so much, goodness,” he whispers, confessing on the curve of your shoulder, descending to your jaw, and up to your ear. anton kisses you everywhere his lips can reach, his hands combing and holding onto your head as he fucks you like a fleshlight. 

“‘m gonna cum, pretty,” he moans in your ear as he rocks his hips back and forth, uneven breaths hitting your skin. his thrusts become more erratic as he chases his high—nearing his peak. you choke on your sobs as you finally move your hands off your mouth to place it on his chest—distancing yourself as much as possible. “anton, please, no,” you whimper, weakly protesting as it goes in one ear, and exits on the other. he doesn’t care—can’t bring himself to care about what you want at the moment. not when your warm, squelching wet pussy is inviting and begging him to fill your womb full with his love semen. “gonna fill your pretty body up with my cum, fuck—,”

not when he has you completely under his mercy.

anton’s thrusts become sloppy, his languid strokes losing its rhythm as his hips jerk spastically as he pumps his cock to its peak. he overstimulates and rams the spongy spot inside you. with a final slam, anton buries his aching cock to the deepest part of your cunt—his cock pulsing and throbbing and pumping as he empties himself inside of you. he feels his scrotum contracts as he spurts out thick ropes of cum inside your womb. you whimper—and you think you can feel the way your tummy bulge over and over as anton continues to fuck his cum into you. “mmh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” a low guttural groan builds in his throat as he moans, burying his face deep into your neck. 

you don’t move. your body convulsing and you feel nothing besides—tainted, tarnished, corrupted. your body feels foreign—it doesn’t belong to you anymore, it’s his, his, his. your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths. the air you desperately need only sticks to the roof of your mouth because it refuses to get past the lump that died in your throat.

your fingers twitch at his chest as anton still hasn’t stopped… besides his cum, disgust coils in your stomach. your ears ring, muffling his groans and moans and confessions. you wish you could die.

“i love you so much, pretty.” anton slowly pulls out, making sure his semen doesn’t ooze out of your pussy too much. he exhales at the sight of a white ring and the way his cum, and your juices coat nicely around his cock. a sight he wants to see everyday. his adam’s apple bobs as he tugs on his bottom lip, holding his cock by its base to scoop his cum trailing out of your pussy back in—just slightly slipping the head in. 

he pulls back up your panties and pants—seeing his thick cum pass through the cotton fabric of your cute panties as he stuffs himself back in his boxer and jeans. he lets out a soft sigh as he leans down, wrapping his big arms around your shattered body. his chin rests against the crown of your head and his hand smooth over your back in mocking comfort. anton’s fingers trace patterns down the curve of your spine—letting out another sigh of content. 

he’s way too warm. 

when anton speaks, he’s back to his usual self. his voice gentle, soft, like the first time he had talked to you. “see?” he murmurs against your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, that now is mixed with the smell of sex floating in the air. “i’ve got you,” he soothes, smiling. you shouldn’t have blocked him.

your stomach churns in agony as you stare at his sleepy face in your blurry vision.

——

“no, it’s okay, i got you,” you said, offering him a soft smile before tapping your card on the terminal. you placed your own snacks on the counter. anton, still holding his wallet in his hands, didn’t move as he stared at you—head empty a second too long. he was short a few dollars for some beers and cup noodles… 

 “oh—uhm,” he stammered, feeling guilty. “thanks…” he murmured shyly, throat suddenly dry. 

you just replied with a nod, preoccupied with paying for your own things to notice that anton was still looking at you as he picked up his plastic bag from the counter. he swallowed his saliva, mind scrambling trying to figure out something else to say—to keep you just a second longer—trying to talk to you despite his shyness. 

but before he could do anything, the cashier handed you your plastic bag, and you thanked her before walking away. 

you didn’t even look at anton for the second time. 

the door chimed and you were gone.

leaving anton dumbfounded, embarrassed as he stared at the door swung shut behind you.

anton swore that if he saw you again, he wouldn’t let you slip away so easily. 

💭 i hope u guys like this!!!🥹🥹🩷🩷 tysm for overflowing heartlink with love n anticipation :((

[bisou-matte]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❜ㅤㅤDAYDREAM.ㅤㅤㅤsunghoon

( ୨ৎ ) — fem!reader .. fluff established relationship skinship lots of kissing downbad sunghoon ─── 𝒔. hoonie can't stop kissing you

sunghoon and you had been dating for a few months, and despite that, you could tell that his mannerisms remained the same as when you first started dating, he was shy even with soft touches or kisses — however, when he kissed you, it was like he couldn't stop, he was so in love. he could kiss you all the time, anytime. and he would do it whenever he could. it should have become easier to resist you, he thought, at least he would be less addicted to you now and he was utterly wrong, not only did it feel like torture to stay away from your kisses, but he also couldn't help but think about how captivating you were. 

the way you smiled at him, how you looked like you belonged in his arms, and how your lips moved against his, making him forget about everything but your touches and kisses, it feels so good and he just can't stop.

his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you onto his lap and taking you by surprise, sunghoon rubs his face against your cheek before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips — but it wasn't enough, he wanted to kiss your entire face and lose his breath on your lips. "can i?" he asks, kissing your chin and admiring the smile that appears on your lips with the gesture. you hold his cheeks between your hands and pull him in for a kiss. your heart seems to flutter against your chest as if he was kissing you for the first time, for him, it was like being in heaven. 

his lips trace a path from your chin to your neck feeling you tremble under his touch, a soft smile plays on his lips as he feels you tremble under his touch. "so sensitive," he murmured mockingly, admiring your flushed cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes. his expression is amused when he sees the marks he left on your neck and they wouldn't go unnoticed. 

he smiles, and before you can say anything, his lips trace your neck, making you melt under his affection. “hoonie—” you say between muffled giggles, his gaze returning to your face. “i love it when you call me that.” he sighs, kissing you again.

it’s hard to argue with him when he’s holding you like this, so you just hold back a giggle, melting into his embrace and giving in to his kisses.

[bisou-matte]

SUNGHOON for Esquire Korea (February, 2025)

[bisou-matte]

ㅤㅤ୨ৎ ｡｡ CHERISH MY LOVE ──── hyung line

( 𝓝 ) — enhypen × afab reader .. nonidol au fluff headcanon skinship ◞ 526 wc ─── 𝒔. when they are in love

REBLOGS ARE APRECCIATED

ㅤㅤㅤㅤHEESEUNG 𓏧 started to like you first, and he managed to hide it for a while, thinking it was just a crush, but after a year, he realized he felt much more than just a crush. then, he couldn't hide how much he was in love with you anymore, anything you did would be a reason for him to sigh in love, he would notice all the little details about you — from the moles on your face to the jewelry you wore every day. he liked to be close to you at all times. he would rest his head on your shoulder, or when you were hugging, he would place his chin on top of your head. little by little, you would notice that he was extra affectionate with you, and it was so obvious that you wondered how you hadn't noticed sooner.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤJONGSEONG 𓏧 soon realizes that he is in love with you, when he starts looking for ways to be close to you, helping you when you need, he treats you with affection and care — he wipes the corner of your lips when you get dirty eating or when an eyelash falls on your cheek and he removes it, whispering something like "cute". when you get closer, jay follows you like a puppy without hiding how much he is in love with you. and he would have the habit of always hugging you, he would want to know your favorite song to learn how to play for you and he would also make a point of preparing your favorite dessert because he simply wants to please you in every possible way.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤJAEYUN 𓏧 has been crazy about you since the moment he laid eyes on you, and he's always blabbering about you to the boys to the point where they just tell him to do something about it. he'll always be looking out for you. when the weather is cold and you go out for a latte, he zips up your coat. he can't let you get sick. when you're walking, he respects the sidewalk rule, carefully making you switch places with him when he notices you're walking on the edge. he doesn't like to talk a lot, but that never applies to talking to you, whenever you're babbling on about something you like he listens to you attentively while admiring you with those puppy dog eyes and a goofy smile on his face.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤSUNGHOON 𓏧 doesn't know how to show that he likes you, the way he flirts with you is through jokes that leave you confused with the thought that sunghoon doesn't really like you until he finally manages to make you laugh at a joke he told, a smile will appear on his lips instantly and he will smile whenever he remembers the way you laughed, he would even talk to jake about you. he's the type of guy who likes to show off to impress you. at some point, you realize that his jokes are an attempt at flirting and the way his mood changes when he sees you talking to other boys, he gets sulky and tries to draw your attention to himself.

[bisou-matte]

ㅤㅤㅤ ❜ㅤㅤㅤHEESEUNGㅤㅤ&ㅤㅤHIS LOVE

( ୨ৎ ) ╱ fem! reader 𓈒𓈒𓈒 skinship established relationship kissing ─── 𝒔. heeseung loves his girlfriend

heeseung could swear that there is nothing in this world that he loves more than you — your face, your smell, the way you laugh, or how tight you hug him when you miss him. just thinking about your beautiful face or your sweet voice is enough to swells his heart with affection. to him, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and he makes sure you know how much you are cherished and loved. his determination to show love every day is almost laughable because it is so adorable — waking you up with good morning messages, asking how you slept, always being the first to send messages, no matter the occasion.

if you turned to him with those big, pretty eyes, asking for anything with a soft “pretty please,” he’d drop everything to get it for you, *his girl.* when you point to the window of the plush machine, showing him an adorable plush bunny sitting at the bottom of the machine, he couldn't say no to you. rolling up his sleeves to show off, "leave it to me, babe. we're not leaving until i get it." he says, approaching the toy with determination to get the plush you want, and he wouldn't leave until he got it for you, even if he failed five stressful times.

he could make a million declarations to you—writing letters and songs to express just how much he loves you—and still, there would be words left unsaid.

sometimes he catches himself thinking about you, about the little details of your face and all the tiny things that make his heart race. the way your eyes sparkle when you’re excited, the smile that’s always meant for him. oh, and your lips—how he loves them. he can never resist the urge to kiss you breathless. if you’re lying together watching movies, forget it—he’s way more focused on having his lips on yours. when he misses you too much, he’s the one all over you, seeking out your warmth and those kisses he’s so obsessed with.

his clothes are yours too. he couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed when he realized that his hoodie or a shirt was missing, knowing that they were most likely in your closet instead. when you went out together on a cold day, he knew that eventually the night would end with you wearing his jacket. and when you wore your shirts to bed? that would be the end of him. his heart melting in his chest just at the sight of you so beautiful being drowned by the fabric, “what are you going to steal next, mhm?” he asks, his voice muffled against your hair as he hugs you tightly and places kisses on the top of your head, inhaling deeply your scent. “my last name?”

he always needs to be near you, whether it’s with a hand on your waist or an arm lazily draped around your shoulders to keep you close. his hand always finds your thigh when you're sitting together, absentmindedly caressing the soft skin under his fingers. if he sees you a little too far from him, he’s immediately pulling you back into his side. he’s constantly covering you in kisses—on your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere he can reach—murmuring how beautiful you look or how much he adores you.

public displays of affection are his favorite, and god help anyone who doesn’t understand that heeseung just loves being close to his girl. no matter the situation, he’s always seeking the warmth of your body. he’ll hug you from behind and keep you snug against his chest, his silent way of letting the world know you’re his—so no one even thinks about getting too close. “sungie,” you murmur when you notice people staring, but he just hums, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “what? can’t i kiss my girl?”

he just can’t resist you: “baby, give me a kiss.” he pouts, because obviously you’ve been busy for far too long—long enough that he can’t help but pull you into his arms. he looks at you with big, deer-like eyes, wide and sparkling like he can’t stand even the smallest distance between you. it starts with a kiss to your temple, then more that trail all over your face until you’re laughing and squirming from the ticklish feeling, cheeks flushed and a wide smile on your lips—the very one he loves so much.

[bisou-matte]

HE LOOKS SO GOOD 😩😩