#sweet anon<3

[mamaestapa]

Girl I love the daddy issues series so much! When is the next chapter coming out?

awe, thank you!!🥹 i’m so glad you’re enjoying it🤍

probably sometime next week! it’ll take me a bit to write this next one :)

this next chapter will be longer and it has a LOT going on…it’ll end on a cliffhanger too👀

[jakexneytiri]

slightly begging for a ‘promise to protect’ mini fic 🥺

omg :’) i’m so happy you liked it 💞 what did you wanna seee? i have another fic comin up involving the 4 kiddos but i’m curious what you wanna see 👀

[motochiri]

I miss you too bae but don't wanna be that annoying recurring anon so I restrain myself from doing it too often to keep it casual lol 🥷🏼 just know I'm always there for u in the shadows <3

NOOOOOOO I LOVE U DONT LEAVE ME.................

[cherryyybelle]

Turquoise!!!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Awe thank you bb🫶🏻🤍💖

[majinbangus]

Big Simon and little Simon are so cute!!

thank you <3

Your son is sleeping against Simon's side when you get home, the volume of the TV turned down to a soft murmur.

Simon looks up from the screen when you quietly walk in.

"Hey." He keeps his voice low. "Work good?"

You had asked the man if he could watch your son while you dealt with your work thing. Contrast to your ex, your neighbor has proven, repeatedly, that he is a reliable man.

"Yeah," you whisper, unable to stop your lips from quirking up at the sight of Simon- big Simon- keeping perfectly still. Your son sleeps peacefully. "Looks like things have been good here."

"Lad's knocked out," Simon says, looking at your boy with an amused smirk. "Said he would wait up 'til you got home, but fell asleep ten minutes into the movie."

Your eyes almost tear up. "I really do have the sweetest son."

If you could, you would give him the world.

"Reckon that's true." Then he looks pointedly at you. "But that's probably because he's got the sweetest mum."

"Simon..." Your cheeks warm. You can only share his gaze for so long before you're ducking your head and hiding your bashful smile. "Think I have a pretty sweet neighbor, too."

"Tch." You hear him shift and look up to see him carefully picking your son up in his arms. "M'not sweet. Now let's get the lad to bed."

"You watching my son and helping tuck him in is pretty sweet," You point out.

Simon rolls his eyes, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitch. "This doesn't mean anything."

"I disagree." You take in the sight the man makes, gently carrying your son, making sure not to disturb him—helping out, stepping up, when he didn't have to. Has no reason to. A deep, reverent feeling wells up inside you. "This means everything."

[bi-writes]

what is mob pet peeve that simon does and what is his pet peeve pf hers of they have any

(also hope youre doing well youre one of my comfort people i love this acc)

one of his pet peeves is that you keep letting the cat on the bed (even though you've explained to him before that you can't just tell a cat not to come on the bed--that she'll do it anyways). his other pet peeve is that you're always a cold sleeper (like to the touch), and you keep putting your feet against his leg in the dead of night. it's like a block of ice on his skin, and it jolts him awake every time.

your pet peeve is the way he picks at the scar on his lip. sometimes it bleeds, and you can hear the plick, plick, plick when he touches it, and you have to smack his hand off his face whenever you hear it cause it makes you uneasy.

oh, he also keeps using your toothbrush on accident cause he doesn't pay attention when he's in the bathroom with you (he always gets distracted when you're braless, go figure).

[calmparticles]

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[nycswebhead]

Just wanted you to know that you are genuinely one of the funniest people on the god damn earth, like every time I read through your blog I laugh so hard I can’t breathe, you understand Spider-Man on a fundamental level

thats because i am him?

[buttdumplin]

For my dear sweet 🌙 anon, who asked for a piece in which transmasc reader clarifies his pronouns with the boys.

cw: poly!141 x transmasc!reader, established relationship, complex gender feelings, comfort

word count: 1070

It’s in the kitchen that you gather the courage, “Can we try something?”

Four heads turn to you, sandwich assembly line quickly forgotten. Maybe this wasn’t the best moment to speak up, your tummy is grumbling already. But you’ve started, so you should see it through. 

“Good god, keep your pants on. This is serious,” you say, voice growing quiet, “And about me.”

The boys swarm around you, eyes burning and ready. Sitting at the table was supposed to let you watch them as they work on lunch, but their looming turns it almost ominous. The sounds of you cracking your fingers, which you tend to do when you’re nervous, does not go unnoticed. 

Johnny chuckles, trying to keep the mood light, “Maybe shoulda phrased it a little differently, love.”

It took you forever to find the right dining table, one big enough to fit all of you and your plates. Days and weeks turned months as you scoured for the perfect one. But as they take their seats, it feels too small. The air is tight. 

“Do you guys remember that talk we had? About gender and me maybe not feeling wholly like a woman?”

They lean towards you, further dwarfing the table, waiting for you to continue. Your belly feels like it’s boiling, tumbling with nerves. That conversation went well, so surely this one will too, right?  If you take the time to look up at them, you’ll see their soft expressions. Simon hunches, blatantly trying to make himself smaller, as if wanting to create space for you to speak. Kind grins adorn Johnny and Kyle’s faces, remembering the conversation well and trying to be encouraging. John just looks proud. Silence breaks as you take a deep breath.

“I think I’m a guy,” you whisper. 

Smiles spread, bodies still, waiting for more. 

“I’m a guy,” you say louder, their grins coaxing yours out.

Kyle takes your hand in his, squeezing gently, “Watch out lads, I’ve got a boyfriend.”

What starts as a giggle soon overwhelms you, turning into a deep belly laugh and running tears down your cheeks. You cling hard to Kyle’s hand, wiping your face a little sloppy. It’s your first time saying it out loud, and there’s no way you could have predicted how fucking euphoric it would be. A spark’s been lit inside your chest, and you think that this must be what true happiness is. It feels so right, and Kyle’s immediate claim fuels you. Another deep sigh steadies you. The hard part is not quite over.

“I hope this doesn’t…” the words come out slowly, “Doesn’t change anything.” Your hand moves in a wide circle, gesturing at each of you.

Their bodies stiffen, caught off guard. Of everything you could have said, that was not what they expected. Worry melts their posture and brings their shoulders down to droop. John and Kyle exchange glances, failure written on their faces. If they’ve left room for this concern, they’ve clearly done something wrong. Johnny cocks his head, confused because why would that be a question? 

When Simon speaks, he almost sounds exasperated, “We’re all men.”

“Yeah, but-”

“All men,” he cuts you off, eyes locked on yours, challenging you to try again. “Boyfriends, like Kyle said.”

“Boyfriends,” you repeat, grin back in place. 

“Get to confuse the cashier at the grocery even more now,” he winks, relieved to see you smiling again. 

A calm silence settles the room again and easy breathing can be heard from all of you. The sinking pressure is lifted from you, letting you bask in the moment. Everything is okay. Your world didn’t crumble. Boyfriends, they said. Sweat threatens to slip your hand from Kyles, making his grip tighten. The pride on John’s face is loud, his dimples growing more pronounced. Johnny drops his chin into his hands, elbows on the table, an impishness about him.

“Logistics,” he says, “Pronouns, please?”

“He/him,” your voice shy.

He cups his ear, “What? Didn’t catch that.”

“He/him,” you say, fullbodied.

Under the table, he squeezes your knee with support. If you weren’t sitting, you’d be squeezing the life outta them, cracking their backs with the force of your hugs. They didn’t even fucking take a beat to respond, they were so immediately onboard. Darling boys continue to bring warmth into your life, erasing your doubts. Though truthfully, it was the possibility of losing them that you were most scared about.

“Terms?” John asks. 

You hesitate to respond, not having gotten quite this far just yet.

“Sweet boy?” he prompts.

Hearing it makes you gasp, your eyes widening and face burning. It hits sweet in your chest and the pleasure of it is visible. It’s the only confirmation John needs. Easing back into his chair, he crosses his arm with sweet satisfaction. The rest of the boys smirk, taking note, minds filling with more ideas.

Kyle has to clear his throat, and thoughts, before he speaks again, “Who do you want to include in this? How do you want to navigate it?”

“I’ve already told my doctors and it’s in my file,” you say proudly, and Johnny answers with excited whooping.

“He/him pronouns in public?” Kyle continues.

“Yes, please,” you eye your guard dogs. The four of them beam, chests swelling from knowing you have so much faith in their abilities to protect you, to keep you safe. 

“Please tell us if there’s ever a situation in which you don’t feel safe doing so. We play by your word,” he swears.

You nod in response, his words spreading a new and lovely warmth through your body. They must have done some homework after that initial conversation, always wanting to be prepared. And it couldn’t be more fucking soothing. Air returns to the room, bringing in levity once more.

“Lovely lads all around,” Johnny looks at each of you, wicked joy painting his face, “What a lucky bastard I am.”

His toothy smile is infectious, catching the rest of you until your faces hurt from mirth. Of course they were amazing with this, they’ve put so much work into maintaining this relationship. All those late nights working through clarifications, the probing answers and check-ins. And they’re doing the same thing now, meeting you head on. And eager to boot. Sweet boys stay sweet. 

“Well,” you say, giggles bubbling from your lips, “Your boyfriend is hungry, so yall best get lunch done.”

[uhohdad]

Hi hi ❤️

Would you please write some incel loser Köni x AFAB Reader with cnc and gunplay? Something where the reader asks König to stalk them home and forces them to the bed.

Ty ty ❤️

♡ (18+) König x Reader - CNC & Gunplay ♡

What a silly game you want to play. He actually gives a raspy two-note laugh at the suggestion, but the contemplative hum that follows sparks hope.

It’s those pleading, wide eyes and the soft hand that nervously fidgets at your side that makes him fold. He’s always had a hard time saying no to you, little one.

You’re unable to stave off the shake in your fingers, tapping on the bar’s tabletop and swiveling on your stool to soothe your racing thoughts. You ignore the stare burning into the side of your face from across to room, pretending not to notice the commanding presence begging for your attention. The drink helps, and from giddiness alone you can’t help all but inhaling it.

You’re quick to pay, both your nice shoes and legs made of gelatin putting a wobble in your strides when you exit the bar. Staring at the lockscreen of your phone in a failed attempt to distract from both your nerves and the urge to look over your shoulder.

The key tings against the lock as trembling hands fumble the simple task of opening the door. You can’t hear him, no, either the quickened pulse in your ears or the experience from his job stacking the cards in his favor - but you can feel his presence behind you. A searing stare you can’t see, but brings the hairs on the back of your neck on end regardless.

Your breaths have turned shallow, escaping parted lips as the door creeps open to a dark, lifeless home. You don’t even have time to turn the lights on before you’re snatched by a pair of strong arms and forced inside, the sudden restraint robbing you of breath.

“Sh, sh, sh,” He coos, low and spine-tingling. A calloused palm swallows half your face, muffling your squeaks and objections. The sole of his boot closes the door behind him with a click, keeping you firmly pinned to the space under his chest with a forearm snug across your collarbones.

Flailing limbs still in compliance when the muzzle of his gun presses to your temple, applying just enough pressure for it to be uncomfortable.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs, the low vibration of his words reverbing in your ribcage.

Your hands cling to his forearm, knuckles white as you claw at his sleeves, a breathy, nervous laugh escaping the tight spaces between his fingers.

“Run or scream, and you’re finished, ja?”

His hand follows your desperate nod.

“Very good.”

His soothing praises are lined with cutting condescension.

He leans down to press the side of his face to yours, the stubble of his jaw scratching against your soft flesh. His words are just a deep, eerie hum in your ear, the heat of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.

“If you keep it up, you might just make it out of this alive.”

Your eyes lull and your lower abdomen floods with a sickeningly sweet warmth in response to his dangerous words.

Your feet stutter for balance when he gives you a firm shove forward, releasing you from your restraint. A helpless little lamb you are, fully blown eyes darting between the gun in his hands and his half-lidded eyes, devoid of empathy as you tremble beneath his superior stature.

He offers a pleased hum, those darkened eyes crinkling as he gives the gun a shake.

“Go on, little one. Show me to your bed.”

The nervous swallow you make is visible, your hands smoothing out your shirt as you make your unsteady legs follow orders.

You’re not going fast enough for his liking, though, his strong hands giving you another shove with enough force to nearly make you trip. He laughs as he watches you struggle to your feet, his demeaning hands and tongue staining your cheeks with heat.

Sweaty hands are clenched into fists at your sides as you step into your bedroom. Before you can even turn to face him, his greedy hands are around your waist, effortlessly manhandling you onto the bed, ignoring your gasps and your instinctual, futile swipes at his arms.

You freeze when he presses the muzzle of his gun to the center of your forehead, the black steel and the hand wrapped around it just a blur in your near sight. The bed shifts under his weight as he positions himself between your thighs, keeping you obediently pinned in place with the threat of his trigger finger. An electric, addicting jolt shoots down your spine, finishing with a flourish of warmth that pools beneath your stomach.

“Going out all by yourself, dressed like a hure, hm?”

Your shallow, nervous breaths are music to his ears, the perfect accompaniment to his steady grinds across your front as he looms overtop you, his degradations spoken in with a silken tongue.

He leans in slowly, relishing in your pathetic whimpers before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your cheek. He keeps his voice in your ear, his deep and soothingly spoken words knotting your insides.

“You were asking for it, little one.”

You shudder beneath him, each breath of air forcing your chest to graze against his. He grunts, low and sinful to pair with a drawn-out grind against you.

When he sits back, he keeps the aching cock in his pants pressed to your front, the gun dragging agonizingly slow across your face. Grazing across the ridge of your nose, catching on your bottom lip and pulling it down, a pleased hum from deep in his chest when it springs back into place.

He carefully watches your eyes, dilated and sprung with thrill, heaving nervous breaths as the gun glides down the curve of your chin, your neck, your collarbones. He’s applying enough pressure for it to be uncomfortable, making sure his threat is impossible to ignore. Keeping your fear right at the forefront, never letting you forget who’s in control. Each breath you take doesn’t stay in your lungs for long, shallow, weighted breaths that escape parted lips.

You flinch, a gasp leaving you when a brute hand tears through your top, shredding the fabric with an audible rip as he exposes your chest to the air. The cool steel pulls goosebumps to the surface when it brushes against your breasts, nudging the torn fabric to the side to get a good look at you.

His eyes flare for a moment before narrowing, ravaging the sight of your chest stuttering with your broken breaths.

Konig’s hardened hand palms over your breast, roughly kneeding the flesh with his rugged fingers, ignoring your wince and the inhale sucked in through clenched teeth. His low, sinful laugh bleeds into a groan as he finishes out another slow grind between your thighs.

“Can you feel it?” He purrs, “Can you feel how hard I am for you?”

Your stare follows the gun as it drags over your chest agonizingly slow, those icy blue eyes meeting yours.

“You’re going to take it like a good girl, aren’t you?”

A swallow catches in your throat and leaves you in the form of a squeak.

The click of the safety echoes dangerously throughout your bedroom, the rapid beat of your heart skipping.

“Aren’t you?”

“Yes- yes!” Your voice coveys nothing but fear and desperation, jumping to appease him with a frantic nod.

His lips stretch into a wicked, smug grin before he’s tearing the rest of your clothes off, jerking your body around with brute force to free them from your limbs, taking pleasure in your cute little gasps.

Fully exposed, spread open around his thighs - he licks his lips when he catches the sheen of arousal coating your cunt.

A deep, dangerous hum leaves him, a gut-churning smile spreading on his face. The feeling of the cool steel tracing down your slit has you whining, your muscles tensing around him. Strong, sturdy tights refuse to let you shut your legs as he glides the gun back and forth, grazing over your clit and making you squirm.

You whine when he pulls away, shrinking in on yourself as he brings his gun to your face, tilting it carefully to show you the slick arousal coating the barrel.

“You see? So wet. You wanted this, little one.”

A squeak catches in your throat, stunned by his brazen words and entirely pliant when he presses the gun to your parted lips.

“Clean your mess.”

You give the faintest shaky nod, pretty blown eyes staring up at him as your hesitant tongue swipes beneath the muzzle.

König’s lips pull back when he laughs, his eyes half-lidded as he watches your tongue polish his threat. He can practically hear the heart fluttering in your chest between your meek sighs.

“Don’t be shy,” He purrs, gently swirling his wrist to goad the gun further into your mouth.

His demands are spoken so gently, an eerie, sharp contrast to the gun he jams between your spit-stained lips, ignoring your muffled whines as you clean your arousal from his gun. He forces the bitter taste of metal deeper into your mouth until it’s uncomfortable, wedging your jaw open and teasing your gag reflex with each slide back and forth over your tongue. He snickers at your stifled, unintelligible objections until he’s satisfied, granting relief when he pulls the barrel from your mouth. Your spit cools on your flesh as he rests his trigger hand on your sternum, working himself free from his pants with his free hand.

The aching, thick cock that springs free from his waistband is just as threatening as the heavy gun resting on your chest.

He wastes no time to swipe his tip along your cunt, eagerly swirling around in the generous pool of arousal between your legs. He lets out a groan that bleeds into a condescending laugh.

“Listen to how wet you are for me.”

Another whine leaves you, not bothering to stop yourself from rutting your cunt into his teasing touches. He gives a few gentle but firm smacks to your clit with the tip of his swollen cock before he traces down your slit, circling the entrance of your dripping cunt.

His fingers tighten around the gun, its metal scraping along the soft flesh of your core as he forces his thick cock into you.

“So fucking tight, hure.”

His words are just a growl, paired with a particularly brutal thrust as he bullies his cock into you, his head thrown back with a low groan. Each pump into your drooling cunt splits you open a little more, stretching you out inch by inch.

He grabs the back of your thigh, forcing your leg into the air and folding you at the core, pushing himself deeper while you claw at the sheets. A wince pinches your face as you struggle to adjust to his size, teeth clenched in both pleasure and pain from his ruthless cock and his abusive pace.

“You like that?” He grits, “You like it when a man takes what he wants?”

When you sputter, unable to focus on anything but the cock ravaging your cunt, he presses his gun in the center of your forehead.

“Yes!” You cry, the choppy words escaping your jostled body, forced further up the bed with each slam of his hips against the back of your soaked thighs, “Yes!”

A pleased hum is stitched into his groan, the sound of him lubing himself up with your slick filling the gaps between his grunts and degradations.

“I’m going to ruin you,” He breathes, “Stretch you out until you’re useless to anyone else, ja?”

He puts more pressure on the gun until the muzzle is sure to leave a ring-shaped indent on your forehead, hitching your breath with each of his pounds into you.

“I own your cunt, little one. It’s all mine, ja?”

With clenched eyes you nod under his aim, unable to stifle the pathetic, whiny moans he forces with each bottom out into your cunt. Filling you to the brim and then some, his grip on your thigh tightening in possession, practically folding you in half while he robs your cunt of its delicate sensitivity.

“Take it, hure, take this fat cock.”

His growled words tighten your core, a steady heat bubbling in your lower abdomen. Powerful thrusts fuck you cross-eyed and degradingly bounce your body until his domineering figure is just a blur.

“Such a good girl.”

He’s seemed to have fucked the thoughts from your brain, gone limp beneath him, entirely succumb to his powerful, merciless cock, a squeaky moan coerced from you with each of his brutal thrusts.

“Going to fill you up, hure.”

König’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, a sinful grunt behind his lips, disciplined pace wavering. His eyes lull behind his eyelids, strong muscles tightening. With a broken moan he buries his pent-up finish inside you, cock pulsing against your walls with each beat of his heart while he rides out the waves of his pleasure. He gives two final shaky thrusts, stuffing his cum deeper into your cunt with a guttural, strained moan.

His cock stays buried inside of your cum-filled cunt as his pleasure-drunken eyes watch the gun soothingly trace down your middle, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He leans down slowly, muscles still twitching with the aftershocks of finish, and plants a gentle kiss on the center of your forehead.

“All mine, little one.” ♡

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

dividers @/enchanthings

[mamaestapa]

when do you think you’ll update the Taylor swift song imagines? you’re writing is absolutely amazing and I cannot wait to read more!!

thank you so much love!!☺️🤍 i’m so glad you enjoy it. i’ve got some new writing coming soon (finally right? lol) but i haven’t worked on any taylor swift song imagines yet.

i’ve started a list in my notes of fics i want to write and post up to december—which i’ll share soon, and there’s some song imagines on there :)

[jakexneytiri]

Hiiiii honeeeyy💕💕 Your last fic of Neteyam has me weak in my knees from the amount of wholesomeness ❤️ Pleasee write more of theemm, i will literally serve you breakfast in the morning PLEASE 💕

hi anon!<33

thank you so much for your kind words 🥹💘 ily breakfast, you say? i’m sold hehe

did you want just neteyam & reader? or dad!neteyam & reader? :)

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

missing jin hours (2/??) ↳ making of: d'festa the movie for anon 💘 | cr. 0613data

[cherryyybelle]

Hey so I feel like I should tell you a little about myself so I’m not a total stranger lol. I’m a female in my late twenties and also chubby :)

Hello lovey<33

Nice to get to know you 🥰 and love that. I too am chubby, more to admire

We should have a like a sign off that way I know it’s you

[merakiui]

we know and love our breeding obsessed tweels .. but there’s an obvious candidate whom I haven’t seen given much attention.. and it’s our favourite apple <3

back in harveston, it’s been mentioned how there isn’t much youngins around .. apart from epel and his cousin .. but in terms of ppl his age??? 0 … so it’d be easy for his family to talk him into stuffing you full and getting you pregnant when you come visit one day… you don’t know that epel secretly introduced you to his family as his wife .. and that the analytical eyes they give you and your body was bcs they wanted to see just how many kids you could handle birthing naturally at a time… truly terrifying how they put this much thought into the time you need to rest before being full with his baby again .. bcs they don’t do hospitals but instead the women in the family use their knowledge (midwivery) to advise you </3

aa just the thought of epel and his family peer pressuring you into giving them kids and continuing the family line has you feeling all guilty </3 like it doesn’t matter what u want bcs you’d be doing it for the betterment of the village! how they convince u that eventually, when u become a mother, you’d find happiness that comes w it .. (silly reader … your choice and wants never even mattered in the first place! bcs if you showed resistance they’d just drug u and put u to sleep w epel’s unique magic and get u pregnant anyways </3)

truullyyy terrifying! beware of dear grandma’s sad puppy dog eyes knowing u refuse to give her great-grandkids! (lies … she knows what she’d doing </3)

also! can I be epel felmier anon? 🍎💜

OMG THE SOMNO POTENTIAL WITH EPEL'S UM........ how could I have missed it,,, it's literally called Sleep Kiss. T_T uuuwaaaa Epel wanting to practice his UM and you agree to let him practice it on you because surely it won't have any negative impacts, right? But he puts you to sleep and somno ensues...... or he puts you to sleep and the other first years are around as well. >_< you're like a practice pussy for them......

If anyone's going to gaslight and manipulate you into having children, it's all of Harveston. ;;;;; and most of them do it unintentionally. They just think it's so darling Epel has a best friend (read: wifey) like you who is the sweetest thing they've ever met. You and Epel make such a cute couple (of hopefully expecting parents). All of Harveston dotes on you, showering you with affection every time you visit. You're practically part of the village by now. Whenever you come to visit, whether for a holiday or a break, Marja always welcomes you with open arms, as does the rest of Epel's family. But it's Marja who is especially pleased to see you. She checks you over, asks if you've been eating well at NRC, asks if Epel's been looking out for and taking care of you, and so on.

I feel like the entire village would throw such a huge celebration when you finally become pregnant. They make such an event out of it; it startles you at first, but Epel explains this is just because there are so few children around and everyone, especially the elders, are so very excited to finally see the village grow and become more lively with young folks! You'll have everyone's full support before, during, and after your pregnancy! They are just so fond of you and are always encouraging you to eat lots (of foods that improve fertility, but you don't need to know that...).

[hungharrington]

okay but could you please write something about steve’s reaction to the reader thinking her boobs are too small for him? because i needed it yesterday and it’s all i can think about

foh sure my friend <3 fem!reader, 1k, MDNI this entire blog is 18+ other than that, enjoy <3

You don't want to be that girl. Digging up a partner's history and trying on comparisons in the mirror til you're sick with jealousy. You know you don't want to do this to yourself, you know that— especially when it always leads to bitter feelings and bruised self-esteems.

But... Steve seems to have a type, whether he realises it or not.

Dana Williams was at least a double-D cup. As was Cindy Prince and as was probably every other girl that Steve's ever gotten into bed with over his sprawling sexual history. Everyone, of course, except for you.

But hey, you're pretty certain you have the tiny, tiny insecurity under wraps. That you can keep it from ruining the budding relationship between you and Steve that is so good, that tastes sickeningly sweet with how well he treats you.

That is, until you're pressed up against the leather of his backseats, his hot mouth kissing yours, hands wandering up higher and higher up your midriff. You don't even notice you do it — freeze up on him — til Steve is pausing, pulling back from you, panting.

"Y'good?" He asks, licking his lips. He checks your face properly, trying to get a read on you. "Everything okay?"

You nod with a hum, trying to settle the nerves alight under your skin. You don't need to be nervous, really, you know Steve wouldn't be so cruel as to dislike you over something so trivial as small boobs. But it doesn't quell your insecurity like you hoped. You still worry what he might think when his hands start wandering again.

Satisfied with you nod, Steve surges forward again and his kiss finds your neck, suckling sweet little marks into the side of it in a way that has you sighing lustfully in his ear. He nips at your neck perfectly, lips hot and teasing, making you squirm —you arch your back into his chest with another soft sigh of his name, your desire boiling hot.

"Mm, feel good?" Steve murmurs into your skin heavily, just as his hand slides up to your chest. You feel your body recoil just an inch as insecurity blooms a mile wide in your mind and in an instant, Steve is halting, again, pulling back from you. His brows pull together, his concern evident on his face as he searches your face.

"Hey, if you don't want—"

"No!" You interrupt, shaking your head. "I- I definitely want to. Believe me, I really want to." You push up and connect your lips with his, a soft and deep kiss that Steve melts under, getting your message across. When it breaks, Steve looks relieved but still, his eyes search yours desperately.

"Then... what?" He looks around the car, looking for the apparent thing bothering you that he can't spot. "Is it the place? I promise no one comes out here but- but we can go somewhere else if you want? Maybe back to—"

You kiss him again, strong and sure and Steve gives a sweet little hmph! against your lips, his hands on your waist gripping tighter. You pull back but stay close, your nose brushing his and can't help but grin. Steve always looks so flushed with love after you kiss him; cheeks glowing, lips pinker than ever... Your stomach does a flip as he regards you with such ardent desire.

"Okay, okay," He nods, a bit breathless. "If it's not any of that..."

He trails off, leaves it open ended for you to answer and you resist the urge to squirm away from the question. It feels silly now, even more silly than worrying about it earlier all alone in your head. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and decide to just be out with it.

"My boobs!" You exclaim, louder than you intend.

Steve's eyes widen a bit. "Your boobs? What- what about them?"

As he speaks, his eyes drop to your chest and there's no mistaking the hunger that creeps in to his gaze. Not so subtlety, one of his hands moves to adjust his jeans as his eyes move back to your face, waiting.

"They're small." You say in explanation. Steve blinks, head tilting to the side an inch in confusion. "Too small," you say, voice a little smaller. "I know in the past you- well, I don't know but I, uh, I figured that—"

"Woah, woah," Steve butts in, expression a little bewildered. His hands on your waist grow a bit surer in their grip and he tugs you closer, the two of you pressed against one another. "Firstly, Steve Harrington is a lover of all boobies. No matter the size."

He's smiling but you can tell he isn't making fun of you; no, in the way Steve speaks in earnest, tone soaked in seriousness, you know he means it.

"Secondly," He begins, leaning in close, dropping a kiss on your neck. He kisses his way down, lips scraping along your collarbones as he does, pulling back just enough to speak. "I like these boobies," he skims the underside of one with his thumb, enough to make you inhale sharply. Steve grins. "Because of the girl attached to them."

A laugh bursts out of you and Steve lasts only a second longer before he's laughing too, lips curved into a grin against your skin. "That sounded so much better in my head." He admits bashfully.

"That's okay," You say, running your hand over his hair soothingly, even as another laugh titters out before you can stop it. It turns quickly into a gasp as Steve's hand shifts up again, palm covering your tit as his thumb rubbing over your nipple that peaks up in interest. He's already back to his lazy kisses on your chest, still traveling lower and you can't deny how good it makes you feel. The fire in your belly burns hotter.

"Gonna let me show you?" He hums, fingers pinching your nipple in a way that makes you keen. His other hand shifts up, reaching to tug your shirt down — but he pauses before he gets anywhere, still checking. He gazes up through his lashes, big brown eyes pleading for longer taste of your skin and you nod, breathy and hot.

"Good girl," He purrs, pulling your shirt down further, his kisses following suit as he begins to suck the first of many little lovebites onto the skin of your chest. Writhing beneath him, moans pouring from you as your cunt gets wetter and the windows get even foggier yet, it takes only a matter of minutes before you find it quite hard to recall any insecurity whatsoever...