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You go to almost every single event Anton is in, he’s your best friend after all, and you only miss if you’re sick. You however, much prefer his swim meets to his baseball games. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s shirtless when swimming, because you like his butt in his baseball uniform even more. You don’t try to hide how attractive you find him even if you are just friends, you aren’t blind. The reason you prefer his swim meets is because, for some reason, less of his fan-girlies come to those. Probably because they aren’t as “cool” or they don’t even know he’s also on the swim team. This upcoming baseball game though is very special. It’s the first time in over 20 years your university has made it to the national championships, but that means it’s a much, much bigger event than normal. That is why you kind of didn’t want to go, but all your girl friends are going too, and Anton had nearly begged for you to join. Reluctantly, you’d said yes.
In the end, you’re glad you decided to go, because each member of each team gets to pick one friend or family member to sit in the best seats, and Anton chooses you. His parents aren’t able to go because of their work schedules and so you get the honor. What that does mean however is that you’re sitting in the stands with a bunch of parents, so 40- and 50-year-olds, and you feel out of place to say the least. As more and more people get to the stands, you debate going up to the much worse seats just so you can be with your friends.
“How the hell did you end up here?” You hear a teasing voice, and you startle, looking up at the owner of the voice. You sigh in relief, huffing a laugh as he sits down. You believe his name is Jacob or something, and you know his brother is on the team. You’ve had a few classes with him but aren’t exactly friends, but he’s better than some middle-aged dad or over-protective mother.
“Take a guess…”
“Anton.”
“Yep.”
“How long have you two been dating?”
“Huh? We’re not dating.”
“You’re just friends?”
“Yeah?”
“Good, then he won’t punch me for talking to you.”
“He wouldn’t anyway…” You huff, shaking your head. As more and more people fill the stands, you joke back and forth with Jacob, the two teams coming out and practicing some. When you see Anton step out, you wait to see if he looks over to where you are and when he does, you smile wide, and wave. He waves back with a smile, and you don’t notice it fall into a scowl when you look at Jacob as he says something about the music playing over the loudspeaker making you laugh. You also don’t feel him glaring at the guy next to you, or see him roll his eyes before getting out onto the field. Right before the game starts, the other guy heads up to get food and he offers to get you some, so you tell him just to get you a soft pretzel or something.
“Hey.” You look down toward the field, seeing Anton leaning against the barricade, probably standing on some ledge or something, but he is still tall enough to allow him to fold his arms on the edge and his chin on his arms.
“Hey! You nervous?” You lean forward so it’s easier to hear each other over the loud music. He shrugs. You can tell by his face that he’s clearly not all that happy, but you can’t tell if it’s nerves or what.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” His tone is terse, and you wonder if he’s upset about something, but don’t even ponder if it could be at you.
“Here comes the bitch brigade…” You mumble, seeing the cheerleaders heading out onto the field. He huffs a soft laugh, but it doesn’t reach his face.
“You still pissed at the whole team?”
“I wouldn’t be if the whole team didn’t bitch about me just because you’re my friend.”
“Yeah, well then, don’t be a bitch of a friend.” He snaps and storms off, heading back to the rest of the team. You flinch back at the harsh statement, wondering what the hell’s gotten into him. You then realize he must be upset at you, but you can’t think of even a fleck of what you could’ve done.
“Earth to (Y/N).” Jacob’s voice brings you back to reality and you take the pretzel he hands you.
“Thanks…”
“You good?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Soon, the game starts, and you manage to forget for the moment that Anton, your best friend ever, was pretty obviously pissed at you. When there’s a longer intermission between the fourth and fifth inning, you get up to find the restroom. Of course, there’s a long line out of the girls’ and so you lean against the wall to wait.
“Did you see number 17 on the other team?”
“Oh, yeah, Lee, right?”
“When the camera for the big screen zoomed in on him, I almost fainted.”
“He’s so fucking hot.”
You roll your eyes as you hear a trio of girls talking, waiting in the line in front of you. They’re clearly fans or classmen of the other team based on what they’re wearing… As if you didn’t have enough rabid girls to deal with from your own school.
“Hey, you’re here for the other school, yeah?” One of the girls catches your attention and you look up to see the three of them are looking at you. You try to casually cross your arms to hide the 17 you have on the front of the shirt you’re wearing. Anton’s bigger than you enough you’re wearing his spare uniform shirt like a dress with a ribbon-belt you braided of the school’s colors around your waist.
“Uh…yeah.” If it was a professional game, you’d be less worried, plenty of fans wear merch shirts at games, but neither school offers those types of shirts. They either don’t notice or don’t know how to read, because they don’t mention it.
“Do you know Lee then?”
“Yeah…”
“What was his first name, Anthony?”
“Nah, just Anton.”
“So you do?”
“Uh…something like that, yeah.”
“Is he single?” That question feels like a shiv in the gut, and you try to hide your wince. Why are you so upset? He’s just your friend… You have no right to be jealous.
“No idea.” You shrug. Before you can even get to the point in line you can get into the bathroom, you leave the line and head back to the stands. You sit back down right before the game starts back up again and you manage to hide that you’re upset so Jacob doesn’t notice. You two crack jokes through the whole game and you even ask if his girlfriend would mind him talking to you.
“Nah, she’s never been the jealous type. She’s pretty good at telling if a girl is actually flirting or not, too.”
Once again, you forget about your own upset as the game continues, your school’s team absolutely destroying the other team. When Anton’s team wins, it’s not even close and the people there for your school flood the field in cheers as confetti and other such things are launched and shot into the air. You decide to head down as well and see if you can find Anton and congratulate him first. As you weave through the crowd, wincing at the overwhelming smell of beer, you finally reach a break in the crowd. Looking around to try and see him, you catch a flash of a cheerleader in her uniform. Gently shoving people out of the way to see her better, guessing her and her gaggle are trying to find their “prince”, you freeze. Anton was there for sure, but with just one cheerleader, and she’s way too close. Like…close. Yeah, the crowd is dense, but there is still no reason for-
“You looked so good out there~”
“Did I?” The tone in his voice is what you’re used to him sounding like around the fangirls; bored. When he turns and catches a sight of you, you smile, ready to head closer, but you halt again. He sees you, and smirks, then looks back at the girl.
“So did you~” His voice immediately dropped to a flirty tone, and it pierces you, not just in the heart, but in the spirit. He steps even closer to her, you didn’t think it possible, and leans down. She giggles, flirty, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and your heart falls. While immediately you feel heartbroken, you then get horribly jealous. Anton’s eyes meet yours again, making you jerk in a flinch, and he leans down and kisses- Your entire body freezes when he kisses her, and it’s obvious it’s more tongue than anything. You see red and you turn to storm off, shoving people hard out of the way, but luckily your small stature doesn’t really do any damage. Getting off the field you head into the lower hall of the stadium and get to a private bathroom. You let the heavy door slam close and you lock the door. Huffing, you lean against the sink counter, staring down into the basin, then up into the mirror. Your face is red and blotchy, eyes even a bit bloodshot and even looking at yourself, you can’t tell if you’re more angry or hurt. He’s definitely upset with you, but why the actual fuck did he decide to tongue-fuck that girl’s mouth just because he saw you? Was he getting back at you? But for what-
“Damn it!” You realize, slamming your hand down onto the counter. He saw you with Jacob… But, even if that made him jealous, why would sucking face with a member of the bitch brigade equate to you cracking jokes with a guy?
“That stupid fucker-“ You scoff, leaving the bathroom and storming down the hall, not even thinking to use the restroom. Because you had the fancy little pass that got you the fancy little seat in the fancy little section for the friends and family of the team, they let you into the lower hall that leads to the locker rooms. Many parents and other family members were lingering around to wait for and/or are talking to other members of the team. Realizing it would be a very poor decision to go into the locker room, even if that’s what you want to do, you wait right by the door. Crossing your arms, tapping your foot, you don’t even know if he’s in there yet and so you keep looking down the hall as more players start to flow in. Finally, you see him, alone, joking around with two other team members. For a brief, fleeting moment, your ire dissipates, seeing your favorite smile on his face, clearly happy that the team won. When he sees you, his eyes harden to match yours and the air gets icy. His teammates look between the two of you then scurry into the locker room.
“She taste good?” You sneer and he scoffs.
“What?”
“I know you only did that because you saw me there. What the actual fuck?”
“Don’t be a hypocrite, (Y/N).”
“What?”
“You were slutting it up with Dylan’s brother.”
“No I wasn’t! He has a girlfriend, first of all. Second of all, we were just dicking around, joking.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What right do you have to get upset anyway? We’re friends, just friends.”
“Then why are you so pissed if I did kiss that girl?” You can’t answer, because he’s right. So, you decide to be honest.
“I am jealous.” He clearly wasn’t expecting you to straight out admit it, because he gapes at you for a few seconds, then his gaze hardens again.
“Then you know how I felt.”
“Wait- You kissed Miss Bitch because you were jealous I was platonically joking with a guy?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s- That’s fucked. How is that equal? I was talking and so you decide to tongue-fuck her mouth in retaliation?” Your words seem to resonate with him because the anger on his face falls. It’s very obviously not close to being the same, and it’s not even just a step up. You scoff, resting your hand on your forehead, just soft enough to not be a full-on slap.
“Oh…my god… You-“ You release a shaky breath, tears pricking in your eyes and you still can’t tell what the emotion behind it is.
“Anton~!” You both flinch at the annoyingly familiar voice. You snort a dry laugh.
“Oh, here she comes, Miss Bitch. Well, have fun getting herpes or whatever.” You turn to leave, going to pull your satchel off your shoulder to get your phone and call an Uber, definitely not wanting to wait and go back to the hotel with Anton.
“(Y/N), wait!” He calls and you keep going, flipping him off.
“Damn it, (Y/N), wait a fucking second-“ His much longer legs allow him to catch up and he grabs your wrist. Not hard enough to hurt, but secure enough you know you can’t pull away. He turns you back to face him and the hurt on both of your faces is clear to the other.
“What…what room are you staying in?” He finally manages to get out.
“Why do you-“
“I need to deal with winning shit first, but then we’re dealing with this. I won’t even give that girl a second look, and don’t you dare do anything between here and the hotel.”
“Why should I listen to you?” He pauses, not sure how to answer. You wait.
“Please.” He asks softly and it pierces through you, popping your balloon of anger and you deflate, sighing.
“Fine. Room 127.” Anton lets you go, and you watch as he turns and heads straight into the locker room, up-right ignoring the cheerleader. When she notices this, she scoffs, looking at you, clearly blaming you. As she should, and you’re glad she does. You raise a brow, giving her a condescending look then turn around and head back down the hall. Sending a text to your friends, you let them know you’re heading to the hotel first, claiming to have a headache and they let you know they’re going to some after party. Like you agreed with Anton to do, you head straight back, not even stopping at a convenience store to get a snack.
~
After you get back to the hotel you just stand in the middle of the room for a good ten minutes, staring at a random spot on the carpet. You really didn’t want to have to deal with your turbulent emotions any day, but especially not now. The implication of their mere presence is enough to knock you off your feet. You know deep down why you’re jealous, but actually verbalizing it, even in your own head voice, is too much. Finally deciding to not loiter in your own hotel room, you turn to head to the restroom since you never had gotten the chance to go. After, you stare at your still somewhat blotchy face in the mirror, then sigh. The number 17 in big bold letters on the shirt you’re wearing is like a splinter in your eye. You aggressively undo the belt holding it around your waist and yeet the belt into the room, though it barely went anywhere since it was basically a ribbon. With a grunt and way more effort than it really should take, you remove the shirt-dress and drop it on the bathroom floor. Starting at yourself in the mirror again, just in a plain nude bra and a pair of purple boy-shorts undies, you feel horribly inadequate. You bet when that stupid cheerleader takes her uniform off, she has some frilly set on… Probably a sports bra, actually, but it makes you wonder if she even looks better in that than you do right now. She was a good four or five inches taller too…
You startle when there’s a knock on the door and you huff, looking around before realizing the fastest thing to put on would be the shirt. Grabbing it you go to the door and look through the peephole, and it’s not Anton, but a hotel employee.
“Uh, hold on!” You hurry to put the shirt back on and it looks significantly more suggestive without the belt somehow, like you were wearing your boyfriend’s-
“Uh, yeah?” You open the door just enough to peak your head out and the bellhop smiles.
“Are you (Y/N)?”
“Yes…”
“We were told to deliver this bouquet if the SM team won the championship?” He’s holding the bouquet of flowers you had ordered way ahead of time, if need be, of course.
“Oh, right, thanks…” You open the door enough and take it from him and he nods a bow and then leaves. Sighing you head back into the room, the bouquet dangling in your hold as your arms drop. Looking down at the flowers, the same colors of your school, you take a few deep breaths. Setting the flowers on the dresser that’s also the stand for the TV, you look again at your reflection, though its much less clear in the black screen than the bathroom mirror.
There’s another knock and you think that for sure is Anton, so you take a few breaths to psyche yourself up and go to the door. But, when you open it, it is in fact not Anton, but another hotel employee.
“We received a call to have this delivered to your room, Miss Hwang.” The concierge smiles and you take the box from her. She bows softly and then leaves. You head back into your room, brow furrowed, looking over the white box with a ribbon glued to it. Setting it down, you lift up the lid and inside is a box of chocolates with a little note. You take the note and read it, and all it’s says is “Sorry” with Anton’s name. You huff a small laugh, corner of your mouth tilted up a bit. You weren’t sure when he would show up, who knows what kind of celebration stuff he had to do, however… Four hours is very much too long and very much not okay. If he was going to be so particular about you going straight to the hotel, why the hell was he taking for-fucking-ever?
As you watch some random episode of Friends on the TV, the empty box of chocolates on the floor next to you, you brood. After waiting about an hour and a half, you took your bra off, not wanting to deal with it any longer. You’re sitting against the headboard, arms crossed, ankle crossed over the other, legs slightly rocking side to side. Then…there’s a knock, finally. Your anger flares white-hot again and you nearly throw yourself off the bed and storm to the door. Looking through the peephole, you see Anton standing there, looking a bit nervous. He’s in normal clothes and has his duffle slung over his shoulder.
Purposefully being loud with unlocking the chain and the dead bolt on the door, you through the door open, glaring up at him.
“Get in here ass-munch.”
“Excuse me?” But he does so anyway. You let the door close, not caring if it was two in the morning, and that there are in fact other people at the hotel.
“Four hours? Really?”
“I didn’t know it would be so long-“
“You get herpes?”
“What?”
“You were with Miss Bitch, yeah?” Anton sighs, dropping his duffle and closes his eyes, rubbing over his forehead.
“No. I had to deal with the after-party. I told you that.”
“No, you said you’d deal with ‘winning shit’ and then be here. I was expecting at the most an hour after I left the stadium. Was the ‘sorry’ for bailing on me or for being a dick?” I grab the box of chocolates off the floor and chuck the empty container at him. He catches it, rolling his eyes and sets it on the table.
“You’re still pissed?” You scoff, huffing in utter disbelief.
“I wasn’t. Now I’m pissed for a different reason! Because, gee, I don’t know, you lied?”
“I did not lie.” He takes a step closer, anger coming back to his normally sweet face.
“Then why couldn’t you have texted me at least?” He doesn’t answer, licking his lips. Whether he didn’t think of that, or you had caught him, you weren’t sure.
“Get out.”
“What-“
“Get. Out.”
“Damn it, (Y/N), just…take a fucking breath-“
“You douche!” You surge forward swatting at him, then you shove him, your nearly foot-shorter body not doing very much damage.
“Hey-!” He tries to grab your wrists to stop your wild swatting but you’re faster than he expected.
“I wasn’t with her!”
“Prove it!” He scoffs, wondering how the hell to do it.
“Was she any good?”
“I told you I wasn’t-“
“She suck you off?”
“What?”
“I bet she’s good at it, yeah?”
“(Y/N)-“
“Probably to ‘congratulate’ you right?”
“Would you just-“
“Did you do a little quickie in the bathroom, or did you fool around at the party?”
“(Y/N)-“
“You gonna ask her out officially?”
“Damn it, just shut the fuck up for two seconds!” You flinch back at his outburst, startled that he would be that harsh with you. Anton’s breathing a bit hard, trying to calm down.
“I was not with her. I swear to God.”
You don’t say anything.
“First, I had to deal with the locker-room crap and the whole speech from the coach. Then we all went to shower, but by then the hot water had run out somehow and so they had us go to a different locker room, but I had to wait my turn. Then when we went to get on the bus, the tires were slashed. Probably other team or something. So, they had to get a different bus and by the time it arrived, it was already over two hours later. I made a token appearance at the after-party and then bailed. But I obviously had no way to get to the hotel, and every ride-share and taxi in town was booked to all hell so I had to walk. I came straight here after; I swear to God.”
“Then why didn’t you text me?” He still doesn’t answer the question.
“Anton.”
“I was worried what the guys would say if they saw I did.” He finally admits.
“So you care more about what your baseball-buddies might say if you text your best friend, but you don’t think for a second to care about what your best friend would think?”
“You didn’t text me.” He tries to counter. You scoff.
“I did.” You cross your arms and his face falls, and he digs in his pocket for his phone. After a few taps, a flashing battery appears on the screen. Dead.
“Oh…”
“You would’ve known it was dead if you tried to text me.” You sigh, grabbing the flowers you had delivered and hand them to him limply.
“Here, congrats on winning. Now get out.”
“What?” Anton reaches for the flowers, but hesitates.
“Get out. I really want to be alone.”
“You’re still mad?”
“Yes, I’m still mad!” You step closer, hitting him with the flowers, then again. Again-
“Damn it, (Y/N), knock it off!”
“Do you know how scared I was that you were mad at me!? But it was for something so- fucking- stupid-!” You continue to swing the flowers, some of the stems breaking, leaves and a few petals falling onto the floor. He finally grabs the bouquet and yanks it out of your hands and tosses them somewhere else. Since your weapon had been confiscated, your resort to smacking and punching his chest.
“(Y/N)- (Y/N)-“ He tries to grab onto your flailing hands to stop you but you’re relentless, angry tears welling in your eyes.
“You stupid- douche- how dare you- you’re the worst-“
“Stop for fuck’s sake!” He finally manages to grab your wrists and pins them to the wall, caging you in against it. You writhe in his hold, trying to break free.
“Why are you so damn big?!” You finally stop, breathing hard, body shaking a bit and you glare up at him.
“You and you’re stupid gorgeous face-“ You huff, and you can tell he’s gritting his teeth. His grip on your wrists tightens a bit.
“Can you please let me speak-“
“I can’t believe I like you, you stupid bastard, you’re just a huge fucking jerk-“
“(Y/N)!” Anton nearly growls, louder than he normally is and it startles you quiet. You both look at each other, breathing a bit heavy, and as if you have the same thought…
You moan a desperate whine when his lips slam into yours, arms going slack. His hand leaves one of your wrists so it can go to under your jaw, tilting your head to the right angle and he deepens the kiss. Your tongue meets his in a messy dance, little whimpers leaving your mouth as drool slips down your chin. The hand at your jaw moves to weave into your hair, tugging a bit harshly at the strands. The slight sting forces a moan out of you, and he groans in return, sucking on your tongue. Your head begins to swim, heart racing, leading you to need more air but he’s stealing it at the same time. You heave for air, panting, when he finally pulls back, lips still hovering over yours. Both of you breathe harshly, your breaths mingling and you just stare at his lips as he looks at the floor. You can tell he’s trying to calm down and you aren’t sure if it’s his anger or lust he’s trying to quell.
“I need…to calm down I don’t want… want to do anything-“ Anton’s clearly fighting some kind of internal battle but you don’t care.
“Just fuck me you pretty bastard.” You snap, still very annoyed, and if he doesn’t, you’ll get pissed again. When his eyes go back to yours, you feel a bit of the anger fizzle out, the fire transferring straight to your core, your walls clenching around nothing. You had never seen such an intense look from him and it kind of scared you a bit, but in the best possible way. Before you can think of the consequences-
“If you don’t, I’ll go find someone else-“ Anton nearly growls at that, grabbing you, lifting you, and literally tossing you onto the bed. You land with an oof on your stomach, and you don’t get the chance to roll over before his hands are on your hips, hauling you to the edge of the bed. You squeak when he shoves the shirt, his shirt, up higher, revealing just your panties on underneath. You hear a light thud as he falls to his knees and you gasp loudly, body flinching as he shoves his face against your covered cunt.
“A-Anton-!” You nearly squeak as he breathes in the scent of your arousal, his tongue swiping over your pussy through the fabric of your panties, wetting the rapidly soaking material even more.
“Fuck, you taste good…” He mutters, fingers going to the waistband. With a rough yank, he tears them at the seams to get them off, the breaking elastic snapping against your skin. The slight sting just fuels the fire in your guts he’s rapidly stoking.
“God~!” You gasp, fingers burying into the bedding for some kind of leverage as he mouths at your pussy, tongue swiping through your soaked folds, around your clit and then into your core. Anton groans obscenely as he devours you, fingers tight at the back of your thighs, very likely leaving bruises. But you don’t care, quite the opposite actually. Your orgasm is approaching at the speed of light, and your mind can’t keep up with your body.
“Anton~!” You can’t form the words to warn him, but he can feel your gummy walls clenching around his tongue and he works your through your orgasm and you cum on his tongue. But he doesn’t stop. Your lower half catches on fire from the continued stimulation but even if he knew the overstimulation stung, he probably wouldn’t stop. And you don’t want him to.
“Fuck~!” You gasp, breath leaving you as he suddenly sucks on your clit, shoving two fingers into your cunt. They curl expertly down against your weak spot and your vision spots.
“You taste so good, (Y/N), God I could do this all night…” He mumbles, his voice practically rumbling. Another squeak is forced out of you when he easily manhandles you to flip you onto your back, his arms wrap around your thighs, forcing your legs over his shoulders and he’s back on you. His face and your inner thighs are a mess, but you can barely get the air to breathe, let alone say anything. He sucks and licks at your clit, his long fingers spreading you open, pounding at the rough spot of your back wall, making your thighs and tummy twitch.
“A-Anton-!” You gasp, feeling a familiar but rare feeling rising.
“Cum for me, pretty.” He mutters and it sets you off. Your cunt makes a mess, of the bed, your thighs, his face, spurts of your release that he doesn’t catch with his tongue. You wince as his tongue swipes over your clit again, stinging. You catch your breath as he cleans your inner thighs off with his tongue. Getting the strength to move again, you prop yourself up on your elbows to see him still kneeling there, wiping his face off, then sucking your wet off his fingers.
“A-Anton-“ You blush hard, despite what he just did, the vulgarity of what he was doing and the groans he let out mortified you. When his eyes meet yours again, you feel all of the annoyance leave you and it gets replaced with desire. You obviously knew how attractive he was, you have eyes, but in this moment, he’s the hottest guy you’d ever seen. Almost as if time slows down, your mind goes blank as he finally takes his shirt off, his hands going to his belt to get his pants off too. Sure, you’ve seen him plenty of times shirtless, since he is a swimmer, but it’s different. In this moment, after what he just did to you and the promise of what else is to come, your mouth waters. He gets his belt off, making sure your eyes have moved to his hands as he undoes the button of his jeans.
“Wanna taste?” He asks lowly, his tone deep with lust, something you’ve never heard from him. You nod rapidly. He smirks. As he drops his pants, you scramble off the bed and kneel on the floor in front of him, eyeing the bulge in his boxers as if you were a puppy hungry for a treat. Enthralled, you watch as he hooks his thumbs in the waist band of his underwear, and pulls them off, his hard cock bouncing in the air. Your face falls in a gape, eyes widening.
“Why are you so damn big…?” You mutter, wiggling your jaw a bit at the thought it was going to hurt.
“Either use that pretty mouth or get on the bed.” You look up at him with big eyes, his own were nearly black, the intense expression something you’d never seen on him. It makes your pussy clench. Swallowing hard, you lick your lips and carefully wrap your hand around the base of his cock, fingers not even able to touch. Anton watches with a hooded gaze as you lean in and kiss the head of his cock. Swirling your tongue over the tip, you catch a taste of his pre, and you moan softly, vibrating your lips around him. He grunts and you start to take him into your mouth, sucking and forcing yourself to make more saliva.
“Fuck, (Y/N)~” He groans, fingers weaving into your hair as you take him deeper, drool already dripping down your chin. You bring your other hand up to cover the rest of his cock as he hits the back of your throat and your heart races as you come to terms with the fact he’s hung like a damn horse. You can feel your pulse in your cunt as bob your head, moving your hands to slick over the rest of him and his breathing picks up, fingers pulling at your hair gently. He opens his eyes as he hears you take in a big breath, and one of your hands falls as you take him deeper, gagging slightly as the head starts down your throat.
“Oh, fuck, pretty girl~” He sighs in bliss, grinning as he throws his head back with a nearly orgasmic groan. Your cunt pulses again and you continue to bob your head, partially burying his fat cock down your throat each time. You get just a bit deeper each time till your lips reach your hand. You swallow over and over to try and fight gagging, but do every once in a while. And you keep doing it, because the groan he lets out each time your throat flutters around his cock makes the discomfort worth it. Breathing harshly through your nose, your face and hands, and his cock, are coated in a sheen of your saliva and his pre, a drop of the mix falling to the floor every so often.
“Shit, (Y/N)-“ He grunts, fingers tightening at your hair. His head flops down to watch you suck him like he was candy, chin touching his chest. Your eyes glance up at him and that’s all he needs. You feel his cock twitch a few times before he cums down your throat. You had pulled him out just enough so you could breathe, swallowing down the hot spurts with soft moans to help him ride it out. After he’s finally finished, still half-hard, you pull back and look up at him panting, mouth open for him to see you swallowed it all.
“You okay?” He asks softly, more what you’re used to, and you shake your head, but your smirk prevents him from worrying.
“No~ I need more.” He smirks back and grabs your arm, hauling you up and tossing you on the bed, he crawls over you, looking down at you still in his spare uniform shirt. Your face is a mess and even down your throat a bit.
“Hm… As much as I love you in this shirt, I’m taking it off, because I’m not sure how to clean it if we get it messy~” He grins, the same soft playful look you’re used to from him. You smile back, no longer mad either. You both get the shirt off, leaving you bare under him and his big hand gently runs over your tummy, making you shiver.
“You’re so pretty~” He huffs a soft laugh, and you blush softly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah~” Anton looks back up at your face. Gently, he takes the edge of the sheet on the bed and wipes off your face. The dramatic shift back to his sweet self you’re so used to nearly takes your breath away.
“I’m sorry I kissed that girl… And I’m sorry I got jealous because… I’m sorry, I had no right to get so upset you were just talking to another guy…”
“And I’m sorry I yelled at you…and hit you with flowers…” He huffs a laugh at that, then cups your cheek and jaw in his hand, thumb running over your cheek.
“I love you…” He whispers and your eyes widen a bit, but then your face softens, and you smile back.
“I love you too.” His eyes meet yours and you watch in real time as they darken with lust again and he kisses you hard, tongue already in your mouth as your fingers weave into his hair, pulling him closer. He grabs your hips, hands smoothing down your legs, so he can lead you to wrap them around his waist. You do, gasping into the kiss as he grinds his hard cock against your bare pussy, and he groans. As he pulls back from the kiss, a trail of saliva connects your lips, and he grabs your hands. He weaves his fingers through yours and hold your hands up by your head, looking down as he shifts his hips so the head of his dick is pressing at your entrance.
“Do we need a-“
“Do you even have one?”
“…no.”
“I’m on the pill.”
“So I can…?”
“Anton, please, just fuck me-“ Your words are cut off by a harsh gasp, your lungs forcing the air out of you as he starts to press in. Anton’s cock carves a hot path into you, feeling like he’s searing your cunt as he enters, but in the best possible way.
“Fuck, you’re tight…” He breathes harshly too, trying to hold back and not just start to rail you, because he knows he’s big, and knows you have to get used to him. Luckily, earlier, he had fucked you open with his fingers, but you’re still small, especially compared to him.
“Fuck- fuck- fuck-“ You breathe a bit too fast, eyes watering. It stings, burns, it’s good but it’s a lot.
“Breathe, baby, breathe…” He coaches, kissing gently over your face, at the corners of your eyes to kiss away the tears.
“Y-you’re a… damn horse…” You gasp out and he can’t help but huff a laugh, knowing you couldn’t be in too much distress if you were still joking around.
“Maybe you’re just small?” Anton hums, pressing his forehead to yours. He looks down, grunting softly, seeing your slick folds stretched to accommodate his girth, his cock not even all of the way in when he hits your back wall. He’s nearly entranced as he watches your cunt struggle to hit him inside, the feel of your gummy walls twitching around him is addicting.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…” He mutters, eyes tracing over what he’s pretty sure is a bulge on your stomach under your belly button.
“T-to split me in half…?” You huff a strained laugh.
“To make you mine…” His sincerity makes you whimper softly, and he hums as your pussy clenches him tighter.
“Tell me when you’re ready, pretty girl.”
“Go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He pulls out just an inch, and it’s like he’s sucking the air out of you, your soaked pussy making obscene noises and he grins.
“You’re so wet~”
“A-Anton, just-“ Your whole body twitches, hips jumping as he thrusts back in, a very shallow but hard thrust. He buries his fat cock all the way inside you then, and he knows for sure your stomach is bulging then, able to see it much clearer.
“You’re so tiny, pretty~” He huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm around your leg. He moves it from his waist and up over his elbow, changing the angle and he thrusts again. Your back arches, the one hand still in his gripping it harder, the other white knuckling the sheets.
“Can you handle it?”
“Y-Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Anton, just fuck me.” So he does. He pulls out a little less than halfway, and then back in with a sharp snap of his hips and you immediately feel your orgasm approach. He can feel your walls spasm, remembering the flutter from when you came around his tongue and so he picks up the pace. He barrels through your orgasm and your eyes spark with tears from the intensity, mouth hanging open, drool pooling from the corner of your mouth.
“Anton~!” Your scream is nearly a squeal and your breath heaves as you cum hard, cunt squirting all over his groin this time and he nearly rumbles a groan.
“Oh, baby girl, so good for me~” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses over your skin, sucking and licking every so often. Your mind goes blank when he hitches your other leg over his elbow and picks the pace up, barreling his dick against your back wall. The sloppy sound of your slick cunt squelching and the slapping of skin, mixed with your squeaks and his grunts leave nothing to the imagination if anyone were to walk past the hotel room. Luckily it was past three in the morning, but if anyone was in the room next door, they probably can hear the bed frame knocking against the wall. Your noises start to get louder, especially as you get closer to cumming again, so he swallows your noises in a kiss. The taste and feel of his tongue on yours puts you over the edge again, and he groans at the vice of your wet core. You feel his cock twitch between waves of your orgasm, and he nearly whines as he paints your insides white, a mix of your releases spurting out from around where he’s splitting you open. Anton pulls back from the kiss so you can both catch your breaths, and he grins, pressing his forehead to yours.
“God, I love you so fucking much…” He mumbles and you hum softly, sleepy and satisfied.
“And I loved your fucking so much~” You smirk, and he pulls back to look at you with a slightly exasperated look.