#romanticwriting

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Warning:

Suggestive content • soft-dom anton • heavy intimacy • implied sexual content • soft dom dynamics • protected sex mention • emotional vulnerability • comfort themes • kissing • physical touch throughout • aftercare • very affectionate anton

Word Count: ~1k words

Author's Note: Only person in my biaslist that has a permanent place and never changes😭💖

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The bedroom is dark except for the lamp on his nightstand, the one with the amber shade that casts everything in warm gold. Anton's already in bed, propped against the headboard, and he watches you undress without saying anything—just watches, the way he does, patient and certain. There's no rush in him. There never is.

You had a pretty harsh day, and now all you wanted was him to Hold You Through The Night.

You slip under the covers. He pulls you close, one arm settling around your waist, and you fit against his chest the way you always do. His skin is warm. He smells like soap and something that's just him. "Hi," he says into your hair, and you can hear the smile in it.

"Hi yourself."

His hand moves down your spine, slow and deliberate, fingers spreading wide across your lower back. He's not hurrying. This is the thing about Anton—he knows how to take his time. Knows that the best part isn't the destination; it's the way he makes you feel seen the entire journey there.

"Rough day?" he asks, and you nod against his shoulder. He responds by pressing a kiss to the top of your head, then another to your temple. His lips are soft. Everything about him is soft tonight, but there's something underneath it, and you know the difference. You always know.

His hand slides lower, and you shift to give him access. He takes it as permission—because with Anton, consent is a language you both speak fluently. His fingers trace the curve of your hip, and then he's pulling you closer, one leg sliding between yours. You can feel him already half-hard against your thigh, but he's not pushing. He's just… present.

"Come here," he murmurs, and it's not a command, exactly, but it's not quite a request either. It's something in between, and that's where Anton lives. That's where he makes you feel safe enough to let go. You shift your weight, and he guides you with a hand on your lower back—firm but not rough, directing but not forcing. He's good at this, at knowing exactly how much pressure to use, exactly when to be gentle and when to be something else. You end up straddling his lap, and he settles back against the pillows, hands on your waist.

"There," he says, like you've solved a puzzle he's been working on all day. "That's better."

You can feel his length against you now, and he lets out a low breath through his nose. His thumbs trace slow circles on your skin, and he's watching your face with that intensity he has, the one that makes you feel like you're the only thing worth looking at in the world.

"You're beautiful," he says, and he means it. You can always tell when Anton means something because he doesn't waste words. He says what he needs to say and nothing more.

You lean down to kiss him, and he lets you set the pace at first—soft kisses, unhurried, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. But then he takes over, just slightly, deepening the kiss, and you feel the shift in him, the moment he stops being patient and starts being present in a different way. His other hand grips your hip, and he's guiding you against him, and you're already breathing harder. "Easy," he whispers against your mouth, and it's not a warning—it's a promise.

He's got you. He always does.

He reaches over to the nightstand, and you hear the crinkle of a wrapper. He takes care of it with one hand while the other stays on you, grounding you, and then he's positioning you, and you're sinking down onto him slowly, so slowly, and he's making this low sound in his throat that goes straight through you.

"That's it," he says, his voice rough now, deeper. "Take your time." But you don't want to take your time. You want to move, want to feel him deeper, and he knows this. He lets you set the rhythm, but his hands are there, controlling the depth, the pace, keeping you from rushing into something that would end too fast. He's thinking about you—about how you feel, about what you need—even as his own breathing gets heavier.

"Look at me," he says, and you do. His eyes are dark, focused entirely on you, and there's something so intimate about it that you almost have to look away. But you don't. You hold his gaze while you move, while he moves with you, and it's like he's reading you, anticipating what you need before you need it.

His hand slides up your spine, and he pulls you down against his chest, one arm wrapped around your back, solid and sure. His other hand is in your hair, not pulling, just holding, and he's murmuring things against your ear—that's right, you feel so good, I've got you—and you believe him. You believe every word.

It builds slowly, the way he likes it, the way he makes sure it does. He's in control but he's not controlling, if that makes sense. He's guiding you toward something without forcing it, and when you finally come, it's not explosive—it's deep and rolling and complete, and he's right there with you, his breathing ragged, his grip on you tightening just for a moment before he softens again.

He holds you like that for a while, both of you breathing, cooling down, his hand still in your hair, his lips against your forehead. You're heavy in the best way, boneless, and he's still inside you but it doesn't matter because this part—the after—is almost better than the before.

"Okay?" he asks quietly, and you nod against his shoulder.

"More than okay."

He shifts just enough to slip out and take care of the condom, then pulls you back against him, and you settle into the space between his chest and the pillow. His arm comes around you again, and his breathing is already evening out. He's relaxed now, satisfied in that quiet way he has.

"Sleep," he says, pressing one last kiss to your hair.

"I'm right here."

And you do, because with Anton, that's always enough.

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THE END~~

Requests are open!! I’m like a ChatGPT. It feels difficult to work without a prompt. Feel free to gimme your suggestions.

Peace out!!

❝𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬❞

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: William James Moriarty / reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story includes scenes of romantic intimacy, emotional vulnerability, and themes of healing and redemption.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Caught in a playful moment of palm-reading, you find yourself entangled in William’s teasing yet tender curiosity. Amid winter’s cool tones, the warmth of his touch and his heartfelt confession unravel the guarded walls between you, revealing the possibility of love, even for the wounded.

𝐰𝐜: 845

✸ I envision William as a gentleman who would only make a move if he truly trusted you with his heart. Once the barriers he created on his emotional side were broken, you could expect a passionate and even bold lover, which is accentuated by the fact he isn't troubled by his initial plans anymore.

✸ He is definitely the man who remembers details, even the minimal ones. For example, if you seemed to like a particular touch, he would be more than happy to stimulate it when intimate.

✸ Consequently, if you were into different foreplay, it would definitely spark a new interest in him, since his priority is you, his beloved partner, and everything that surrounds your presence.

✸ Expect him to start reading about your interests and treating them like an important study field.

✸ And, no time for shyness, since he does everything in his power to thank you for being by his side

"𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬"

From the moment you entered my life, it wasn’t love at first sight, but something entirely different—something I couldn’t quite name back then. There was no sudden rush, no overwhelming infatuation, but a quiet, lingering curiosity that settled deep in my chest. The very first time I laid my eyes on you, something in me stilled. It wasn’t just the way you stood, bold and fierce, or how the fire in your eyes commanded attention—it was something else, something that whispered to me that my life was about to change. In that instant, I knew you were going to mean more to me than I could comprehend. I was taken aback. Yet, even then, I was in awe.

I didn’t know what it was that drew me to you. It wasn’t just your confidence or your spirit; it was something deeper, something that spoke to me without words. I stood there, watching, and I knew that you were meant to be part of my life. Not just in passing, but in a way that would leave an imprint on me. I didn’t know how or why, but from that moment, my heart knew you were someone special.

When you asked, "What are your intentions?" I remember feeling a mix of nervousness and honesty that I hadn’t experienced before. I had no answers then—no plans, no path mapped out for where we might go—but I knew I wanted you in my life. Whether we were to remain friends or become something more, all of that felt secondary to the simple truth that I wanted to know you, to be around you. I didn’t need labels or expectations, just the space to be with you, to see where this connection would lead. And, for someone who had spent years building walls around my heart, that was a feeling both terrifying and exhilarating.

I took that leap, a shot in the dark, when I added you and reached out, and since then, our friendship has been nothing short of a wild, beautiful ride. There were moments in the beginning when we didn’t quite understand each other, where you probably thought I was a little too mysterious or odd.

I laugh now, thinking about how you jokingly accused me of being some kind of spy, always observing. But looking back, I was just trying to figure out how someone like you—a force of nature—could make me feel so at peace. It took me a while to understand what was happening inside of me. I’ve spent so much of my life thinking that love or deep affection had to come with a rush of adrenaline, a dizzying euphoria. But what I felt with you was different—so much more grounding, so much more real. Yes, you make me smile, you make me laugh, and I genuinely love being in your company, but it’s more than that. You make me feel safe, like I can let down my guard, like I don’t have to pretend or perform. For the first time, I feel like I can just be.

And that’s where I realise this is different from anything I’ve felt before. It’s not just the excitement of being with someone who lights up my world—it’s the calm you bring. It’s the way everything around me quiets when you’re near, the way all the noise and chaos fade away. When I’m with you, I don’t feel like I need to prove myself, because you see me. The real me. And somehow, that feels more intimate than any of the love stories I used to dream about.

You have this fire in you, this passion that burns so brightly, and it’s impossible not to be drawn to it. But it’s not just the fire—it’s the warmth you bring, the way your presence makes everything feel lighter, easier. You make me feel like no matter what I’m facing, it’s going to be okay, because when I look at you, I feel like I’ve found my home. That sounds cheesy, I know, but it’s the truth. In you, I’ve found not just excitement, but peace. Not just passion, but comfort.

There’s a depth to this, to what you’ve sparked in me, that I didn’t know was possible. You’ve somehow sunk beneath my skin, into the core of who I am, and nurtured something there—something I didn’t even know needed nurturing. You’ve made me question everything I thought I knew about love. How could I have thought I’d loved before, when I hadn’t felt this? This steady, calm knowing that no matter what happens, we’ll figure it out together.

And that’s the most beautiful thing about this connection. You’ve made me realise that love isn’t just about the highs, the excitement, the butterflies. It’s about feeling completely safe in someone’s presence. It’s about the comfort of knowing that with you, I don’t have to be anything other than myself. You’ve nurtured this familiarity, this deep-seated bond that has grown into something so fierce and strong, it makes me wonder how I ever lived without it.

Being with you feels like being part of a symphony—a harmony I never knew I needed. Every glance, every word exchanged between us is like a note that fits perfectly into the melody of my life. The highs and lows are no longer jarring but part of a greater rhythm, and even in moments of silence, there’s music. With you, nothing feels forced or rushed; instead, everything flows together as though we’ve been playing this piece for years. You’ve brought balance to my chaos, and now I understand that love doesn’t have to be loud or overwhelming—it can be gentle, steady, and still so powerful.

Sometimes

all I wanna do is to look at you, sitting in the corner, breathe in the quiet you make when you’re reading and I’m just dreaming.

Brown eyes, long lashes, golden shimmer, sun-kissed skin. Messy dark hair falling like a private joke covering your ears.

Your lips — sometimes too dry. I want to balm them, touch them with my fingers. And like a déjà vu I think of you.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, watching me removing my makeup, asking me to share my lip balm.

Looking down to your sweet face, I stand in front of you and touch your lips with no haste. You let me do, put your arm around my waist, your ear close to my chest, hold me tight.

I like to think of this forever. These simple things make our love grow bigger. You’re so fucking beautiful — I could look at you forever.

Pulling you closer to me, as we melt away in each other's arms; where I could spend– all day.

You make me feel so at rest with your hands caressing my chest...

Looking up into those eyes of rich dark chocolate, puts me in a trance– making me love being alive.

This one-sided love, a symphony for my heart alone, No one else claims this silence; it's my solitary throne.

May countless joys fill your days and nights, Yet the sorrow here is my own solemn rite. This agony, this yearning, they sing only for me, An endless lament in a lonely key.

May laughter grace you, a melody so sweet, But these quiet moments are mine to meet.

I've hidden pain behind my laughter's disguise, But the pain is mine, and this sleeplessness my prize. I'll leave that city where you no longer reside, In every word I write, thoughts of you hide.

I often think of asking you a question so fine, One that could turn your sorrows into joy divine.

May the world's love surround you, like a tender sea, But this solitary love, it belongs solely to me.

In the moonlight's gentle glow, I whisper your name, A silent serenade, a lover's endless claim. For though you're far, in dreams, you remain, And this undying love, forever my domain.