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Work Place Romance

Pairing: Lars Lindstrom x female reader

Era: I didn't have a specific time period within mind whilst writing this.

Summary: Lars becomes completely obsessed with you, his new boss.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, obsession, desperation, power imbalance, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masterbation, degradation kink, and mentions of both porn and oral.

Word Count: 10,314

You had changed Lars, not in a bad way, not in a negative manner, but you had certainly altered his entire existence. Since the first moment in which he had ever even laid eyes upon you, his brain chemistry was practically altered. You did things to him, provided him with new emotions, introduced him to new experiences, stuff that he couldn't even comprehend before your arrival. And in all honesty, he didn't know whether to be frightened or absolutely indebted.

Sure, Lars had certainly been a bit fascinated by rather mature topics (if you catch my drift), but always within his own, private time. Of course, he had set a mental boundary, a rule in which he was expected to follow: There was a time for work, moments for family, and requirements for daily life within general. However, there was also a secret fourth option, the remaining time that was designated for himself, the moments in which he could enjoy anything and absolutely everything he had desired.

Of course, he was a man after all, someone with interests, hobbies, and fascinations. He had viewed a wide array of porn videos over the years, mostly due to his own sense of curiosity rather than for sexual release (he tended to rely upon physical labour, such as wood chopping, in order to ease his own biological urges). Yet, there had always been some sort of metaphorical switch within his mind, a switch that would promptly flip the moment in which he had successfully ventured from the confines of his small apartment and entered the real world. Lars was a good boy, a favored member within his community, and thinking about his personal sexual fantasies whilst attending a scheduled work shift or visiting church was certainly not proper.

Well, until you had entered his life that is.

As soon as Lars had been informed of your mere existence, he was no longer as controlled and disciplined as he once was. In regards to his own sexual urges, the firm barrier he had created within his mind, the rule in which he was expected to follow as soon as he had returned to society, had suddenly cracked.

It had come to him so effortlessly before, as if it wasn't just a mental guideline, but an actual skill of his, being able to simply switch off his own, personal thoughts whenever the moment had been deemed inappropriate. Lars no longer participated within the same schedule he once had, the routine in which he had become so utterly familiar with, it was almost muscle memory at that point. In all honesty, it was as if he was physically unable to anymore.

Previously, he would start each morning by preparing for the advancing day (including a simple breakfast, a quick shower, and selecting the proper outfit). He'd attend his scheduled work shift, always arriving five minutes early, no sooner and certainly not a second later. Or, on Sunday's, he'd attend church, just as every, proper young man his age should have been. Afterwards, he'd complete the required chores or expected errands, such as cleaning his apartment or purchasing groceries. And then, only then, once he had returned home that evening, after he had successfully completed each task expected of a real adult, Lars would finally allow himself to appreciate his own passions, which had typically consisted of continuing his porn related research.

He'd stay awake for hours, utterly consumed, even sometimes into the late hours of the night. Most of the time, he wouldn't even touch himself, feeling much too guilty or ashamed. Instead, he'd simply just watch. Lars had never been the type to participate within the act of self pleasure, although he had desperately wanted to upon various occasions. In all honesty, he was just curious; he was utterly fascinated by this secret and exotic world, the most private portion of almost everyones lives, the only fact of existence that was kept a total secret within society. No one talked about sex the same way they spoke of work, family, or friends, although such a feature was just as common, even more so within some circumstances.

Of course, Lars was detached from such a world, not necessarily by choice (although the thought often intimidated him, causing him to instinctually avoid such opportunities), but more so due to the reality of his existence. And as a result, his general lack of familiarity had caused him to become somewhat intrigued, fascinated by a specific event in which he had yet to experience, even upon his own. He just wanted to learn, wanted to see, wanted to know. Lars was astonished by such a hobby within the same manner most people were somewhat captivated by the idea of flying a jet or climbing Mount Everest: It was just so unfamiliar, so uncommon, so interesting.

You were his first glimpse into this secret world he had been so completely consumed by. Sure, he'd found other women attractive within the past, people he had considered beautiful or pretty. However, in regards to yourself, such a mental belief was much more intense. Of course, you were gorgeous, cute, and captivating as well. Yet, you were also so much more than that. You were like a siren beckoning him out to sea, calling him towards something unfamiliar, something unknown, something he fucking yearned for. You were sexy, hot, and completely arousing, causing his body to react within a manner in which Lars certainly wasn't accustomed to. When he viewed you, Lars didn't simply think "Wow, she's so pretty." No. Instead, as his pants became much too tight for comfort, his clothes suddenly restricting, and the thick layer of perspiration actively glazing his figure causing him to become disoriented, Lars could barely even form a proper thought at all.

Suddenly, his own depravity and desires were starting to slowly seep into his social life as well, no longer simply confined within his small, desolate apartment, like some sort of caged beast. His daily routine of switching off his thoughts as he ventured into the real world had suddenly disappeared. Lars wasn't as restrained as he once was, capable of completely erasing each and every one of his more intimate fantasies, until he had eventually returned home that evening. Instead, he was now constantly day dreaming, mind distant as he fantasized about his most lewd and obscene curiosities at any time of day, whether that be whilst he was attending work, visiting town, or even at God damn church. Christ, he'd even find himself supporting a rather humiliating boner as he desperately attempted to focus upon reports, work certainly being the most lousy place for such a shameful physical state. Absolutely nothing was interesting about numbers on paper, it was possibly the most boring topic of his entire life. Yet, his body didn't seem to agree. He could discern you within each shape, every number, from the curve of the number eight, to the slender length of the symbol one.

Your mere existence had successfully transformed Lars into a complete dog, suddenly prepared to whine, hump, and cum with a simple snap of your confusingly arousing fingers.

Additionally, the private act of self love, the task in which he had been avoiding for years, the activity he had always attempted to ignore though the usage of chopping wood, had suddenly become much more prevalent within his daily life. Repeatedly slicing the sharp blade of his axe through various logs of wood had no longer done the trick anymore. In fact, it only managed to further intensify his urges, the pass time providing him with the perfect opportunity for his thoughts to wander and his mind to become distant. Recently, it was as if each night had now ended with hand wrapped around his aching cock, both whining and mewling with guilt as he searched for any form of relief.

And of course, just his luck, you were his God damn boss. Maybe thats why mindless reports were suddenly much more sexy than Lars had ever once considered. Especially when they were executed entirely in order to appease you.

There was absolutely no escaping you. There was no contrast between his own time, and the space you had occupied within his mind anymore. It wasn't as if he was free every day to continue as a normal adult, able to distract his mind through the usage of endless hours of work or an array of errands. Instead, when he'd attend each scheduled shift, you were absolutely everywhere. From your car within the parking lot, the files he organized just for you, and the evidence of your existence littered all throughout the office: Your name plate was engraved into the hallway entrance wall, various emails mentioning you within specific, the reports he had been required to complete, all for you. You were his boss after all, everything within that office was done for you, not only by Lars himself, but by everyone else as well. Christ, his mind had even started to correlate the smell of freshly printed paper and the hum of florescent lights with yourself.

And home certainly wasn't an escape either. After spending all day utterly surrounded by the evidence of your existence, Lars would return to his apartment where he would promptly day dream of you. He'd reminisce upon your selected outfit that day, the manner in which your rather professional pencil skirt had so seamlessly clung to each of your curves within the most natural manner. Lars would envision your freshly manicured nails, the polish never chipped and paint not even slightly worn, as if you got them touched up each night. He'd fantasize about the sound of your voice, the way in which you never failed to address him with such a kind and sweet smile, just as every boss should have greeted their employees, with both courtesy and good manners.

Lars couldn't escape you. At work, he was completely surrounded by you. Your name, your instructions, and your expectations were constantly floating through the office. "Miss. (Y/L/N) would like for these to be finished today." "We have to order a new printer, Miss. (Y/L/N) said so." "Miss. (Y/L/N) would like to see you in her office." Even if the words hadn't been directed towards himself within specific, Lars had still perceived them. And even the simple mention of your name would completely hypnotize him all over again.

And each night, once he had finally returned home, Lars was still utterly addicted to you. It had become a habit for him to barge through the front door of his apartment, frantically kick off his boots and absently abandon his jacket by the entrance, before he would desperately jerk off to the mere thought of your signature black mesh stockings. And what did he have to look forward to the very next day? The promise of becoming absolutely infatuated by your mere existence all over again, physically fighting with himself to refrain from getting hard whilst seated at his desk whenever he had perceived the simple sound of your heels clicking against the sleek office floor.

In return, you had always found Lars rather cute, with his shy tendencies, awkward mannerisms, and that adorable mustache of his. He was absolutely tooth aching sweet, similar to that of delicious cotton candy or an addictive pastry. Lars was comparable to that of a cute little kitten: He was endearing within the most heart warming manner possible. Sometimes, when he'd promptly begin to blush in response to the most insignificant situation, you yearned to just shake him, an intense form of cuteness aggression (regarding a grown ass man by the way) threatening the stability of your own professionalism. You were new the area, relocating entirely for this specific job opportunity. It was a large improvement compared to your previous career situation, from the pay, your coworkers, and even to the environment within general. You hadn't been born and raised within the small town, which was an extremely rare situation, due to the reality that most of the residence had never once lived within a different city throughout the duration of their entire life. However, even upon your first day of work, both nervous and extremely intimidated by the daunting sense of unfamiliarity, you were well aware of the fact that you'd never forget Lars Lindstrom. Even then, you knew he was absolutely adorable.

You had been rushing inside the building, modest office pumps repeatedly slipping against the icy pavement as you frantically attempted to fix your skirt before you had successfully entered the office building. A mixture of files, paper work, and folders were slowly slipping from your grasp, threatening to scatter across the ground at any moment, as you hurried towards the doorway, stumbling a few yards behind a random man, a stranger in which you had assumed to be one of your new employees.

Within that moment, Lars didn't know you. Reasonably, why would he? He had never perceived you at church, noticed you within the bowling alley, or simply observed you around town within general. He had absolutely no idea that you were his new boss. Yet, even so, as he had perceived the audio of someone obviously struggling from behind him (due to your frustrated grumbles, the sound of your frantic footsteps, and the shuffling of papers against the wind), he had rewarded you with a glance from over his shoulder.

And my God, were you the most beautiful creature he had ever once perceived. Even as you desperately fiddled with your ruffled skirt, occasionally cursed from beneath your breath, and with your wind blown hair, Lars was still convinced that you must have been some sort of vision, a Heavenly angel he had been hallucinating as a result of his sleep deprived mind. No one could possibly look that attractive at seven within the morning, visibly irritated, and somewhat disoriented, could they? No, certainly not. Therefore, you obviously weren't real. No human could appear so utterly attractive during such a state of discombobulation, so you must have been some sort of image conjured up by the memories of his multiple hour long porn escapade that previous evening.

However, Lars wasn't really provided with much time to properly contemplate such a possibility as soon as he had noticed your obvious struggle. If he had failed to assist you soon, the parking lot might have quickly become infested by an array of stray paper work. So, within a split second, Lars had reached forward, swiping the slithering files from your grasp, before he rushed towards the entrance with the usage of only a few, length strides, and promptly yanked open the door.

He did not express any form of urgency or impatience as you tidied up your appearance, possibly becoming visibly irritated as you fixed your hair and properly adjusted your skirt. Instead, he just waited quietly and provided you with the proper period of recalibration. He remained motionless as he propped open the door, secretly admiring you within complete awe, until you had finally inhaled a deep breath of courage, thanked him for his help, and promptly entered the building.

Your heart had practically melted as he responded with a simple flash of the most adorable, mustache ridden smile you had ever perceived, a sweet smirk you'd soon become rather familiar with, quickly beginning to search for such a signature grin throughout every interaction the two of you had shared together. Lars failed to properly speak, he did not reward you with a formal greeting or a successful "You're welcome." Nope. Instead, just that cute little smile of his. And for some reason, you were completely okay with that. Even somewhat grateful regarding such a discovery. Within that exact moment, you were well aware of the reality that you'd swiftly become addicted to such a feature of his, prepared to become obsessed with such an adorable smile, within the same manner an alcoholic relies upon various drinks in order to successfully get through the length of each day.

Such a gesture wasn't an attempt to somehow appease or impress his new boss. Christ, Lars didn't even know who you were. You could have just been another, random coworker he would soon grow to despise within the matter of only a few days. Instead, he was simply just that kind, nice enough not to ignore your general existence by allowing the door to promptly slam within your face, as most others would have done.

From that moment forward, you had quickly taken a liking towards Lars; plain and simple, you weren't exactly regarded as a people person. Sure, you were an expert at plastering on a fake smile, well aware of proper manners and politeness. In fact, most of your new employees had swiftly fallen for your flawlessly perfected performance, truly believing that you were the nicest supervisor they had ever once possessed. However, the mere second in which you were offered with any form of solitude, you would immediately accept it. You never occupied your lunch breaks alongside your employees or participated within grabbing drinks after work. Instead, such activities never failed to successfully exhaust you. Sure, your employees were nice and kind enough, but they certainly weren't your friends. You would never find yourself enjoying their company outside of work hours, not in a rude or disrespectful way, but more within both a mentally and physically drained sort of manner. They were people you tolerated, not individuals you had actually liked.

Well, except for Lars; in comparison, Lars was sweet, shy, and quiet. He didn't support a phony facade of courtesy, simply in an attempt to gain your approval. Instead, he was just naturally polite. He did not pretend to be busy or act occupied at his desk, due to the reality that he was actually working. Of course, he wouldn't be required to imitate such productivity when he was truly engaged within each task. The mere moment in which you had stepped within a thirty foot radius of him, Lars failed to scramble from his seat and address you with the usage of a sickeningly sweet greeting, like some sort of soldier saluting his general. In fact, he was one of the only people who had refrained from doing so, due to the reality that he was much too busy actually working for such foolish behaviors.

He didn't have to fake kindness, act busy, or feign ambition, simply in order to gain your approval. Rather, he was just inherently productive. Lars was smart, assiduous, and naturally courteous. He wasn't required to act within such a manner, due to the reality that he innately possessed such qualities already.

Furthermore, Lars never gave you any issues. He certainly wasn't the type you had been forced to repeatedly reprimand in response to any sort of unprofessional behaviors (as some of your other employees were prone to). He hadn't required constant meetings in regards to a general lack of productivity. Lars certainly wasn't a nuisance around the office. Rather, he was extremely agreeable: He attended each of his scheduled shifts, rarely complained, and never failed to complete each required task by the end of each day. In fact, he was honestly very receptive to any form of critique, constantly willing to learn and simply happy to please. He was one of the few workers who didn't cause any problems.

You had swiftly discovered that he was one of the few employees in which you hadn't been forced to feign some sort of kindness towards. You weren't expected to plaster on a polite smile or behave annoyingly gentle towards him, simply in order to maintain some sort of employee moral. Why would you when he had generally been such a good worker? Lars actually made you smile, laugh, and enjoy the occasional meetings the two of you would share. You weren't expected to fake any sort of courtesy towards Lars, simply due to the fact that he had truly made you feel so naturally proud. He was the singular employee of yours that had failed to properly exhaust you, and maybe that had been due to the fact that he was the least insecure worker.

You hadn't been forced to provide Lars with a fake form of reverent, in an attempt to avoid possibly upsetting him. Of course, you had always understood the intense form of determination you had received from your other employees; you hadn't always been a boss, and you could certainly remember the time of your life in which you had been so desperate to please your supervisor. Yet, in all honesty, Lars' general lack of caution had honestly impressed you. It wasn't that he didn't desire your approval, just as everyone else had. Obviously, similar to each of your other employees, Lars had wanted to gain his bosses approval as well. However, he relied less upon a fake sense of ambition (such as pretending to work and acting busy), and more of a true form of productivity. Why would he pretend to be proficient, when he could just simply do as such?

Plain and simple: Lars wasn't a suck up. He didn't force some sort of small talk or attempt to impress you by executing the utter bare minimum. You weren't required to entertain him with a false facade of politeness, to act as if you truly cared. He failed to waist your time by blabbering endlessly about both statistics and data, in an attempt to flaunt the fact that he was well versed within his specific field. No. Instead, he just wasn't so desperate. Of course, he knew what he was doing, obviously hired for a reason, so why would he be expected to further show off? If you had an issue, the two of you would talk, and he was always sure to quickly clean up his act within the near future.

Additionally, Lars was both blunt and straight to the point. There were no immature mind games with him, he did not fish for your own praise and approval. Rather, he said what needed to be said, and that was that. If you had any further questions, you'd certainly follow up.

"I finished that report." He'd inform you towards the end of his shift, swaying awkwardly within the doorway of your quaint office, referencing a certain record you had provided him with that very morning.

Lars was always the first person you had entrusted with the more specific and special tasks. Not only were you confident within his work, but you were also well aware of the fact that he would never fail to immediately accept such a task, promptly complete it, and avoid any sort of additional discussion. Lars wouldn't ramble on about each and every minor and unimportant detail about the report, attempting to explain each figure and every number. No. Instead, he'd just do as instructed and answer any possible questions you may have contained.

"How was it?" You'd ask, peering up at him as you remained situated before you computer.

He would simply shrug his shoulders. Of course, there was nothing exciting about such reports, and due to his rather thorough nature, Lars rarely ran into any issues during such tasks.

"Fine." He'd respond plainly, short, simple, and straight to the point, which you had preferred.

Unlike most of your other employees, you weren't required to fall all over yourself with gratitude in regards to Lars. You weren't expected to feign some sort of admiration or repeatedly compliment his skills. Of course, you were thankful, and Lars was just as happy with each hum of gratitude you'd reward him with, the same exact soft form of approval you had granted him within that exact moment.

"So everything came out good then?" You'd clarify.

He'd execute a soft nod within return, absently leaning upon the balls of his heels, almost appearing somewhat impatient.

"Yup." He'd state with an enthusiastic pop of his lips.

A brief pause of silence would prevail as you awaited any further details from him, such as additional information or extra data. Yet, when such meaningless small talk had ultimately failed to arrive, Lars remaining both silent and visibly awkward from before you, you'd simply continue.

"Alright then. Thank you, Lars. See you tomorrow." You'd wish him farewell before allowing your attention to finally return to the screen of your computer.

A short pause would soon ensue, with Lars completely motionless within the entrance of your office for a few seconds, before he'd finally return a similar sentiment and promptly disappear. Such conversations had always occurred within a similar fashion, with Lars informing you of his completed work, your shared conversation both short and simple, lacking any form of additional inquiries (you had trusted his abilities, so much so that you often failed to successfully confirm that his work was correct afterwards), a brief moment of hesitation soon following, before he would finally wander off.

That last interaction had always somewhat intrigued you, the few seconds in which the two of you would remain both silent and motionless, a thick sense of anticipation hanging within the air, before Lars would finally vanish. In all honesty, you had simply assumed that he had been awaiting some form of further information, just as you had previously done in regards to such a report. Yet, when such possible instructions had ultimately failed to arrive, thats when he'd finally exit the area.

However, what you weren't aware of was the reality that Lars' brief pause of hesitation had absolutely nothing to do with work. He wasn't awaiting some form of additional praise or a possible reward. Instead, as you had finally shifted your attention towards your computer once more, he would actually utilize such an opportunity to successfully admire you. With your vision glued to the computer screen, Lars would adore your adorable expression of concentration, his heart palpitating within his chest as he perceived the soft glimmer of attentiveness within your irises, absolutely enthralled by how utterly consumed with your work you often appeared.

In all honesty, Lars was rather impressed by your general aura of determination. Each day, you'd stay later than anyone else, you were constantly productive, and rarely ever allowed yourself even a moment of rest throughout the day. Not once had he ever discovered you slumped within your office chair, benefiting from just a brief second of relaxation. Instead, you were constantly busy, working, and attentive. Lars wondered if you had a boss you were also attempting to impress as well. He also wondered if you'd appear just as focused with his body beneath your fingers.

And maybe thats how it had all started, due to the fact that Lars was truly nice, honest, and productive. He was unproblematic, secure within his own work, and extremely reliable. He was one of your few coworkers who had failed to absolutely exhaust you by the end of each day. Lars wasn't a mere boot licker, he was naturally sweet, and he was a perfect worker. He failed to bore you with meaningless information or unimportant statistics. In fact, you had honestly started to enjoy his company. You had soon began to anticipate the moments in which the two of you would eventually interact, him being the only employee you were actually inclined to chat with, about more than just work. Upon numerous occasions, you would discover yourself conversing with Lars about unrelated topics, such as hobbies, family, and even sharing rather meaningless stories about your weekend events. Such interactions weren't executed as a result of simple politeness. No. Instead, you had actually cherished each of the rather relaxed and enjoyable conversations the two of you had shared, laughing and joking with one another as if you weren't just simple coworkers forced to endure each others company, but as if you had truly favored one another.

You knew it was completely wrong, unprofessional, and utterly inappropriate, but God, he was so fucking endearing you just couldn't seem to help yourself.

It had all began by accident one day, when you had finally ventured towards your car for your lunch break, just as you had always done. Today, however, had been a bit different. Typically, you would have taken your break around one, thirty minutes before the general employee break started at 1:30, just so you wouldn't be forced to explain why you had still decided to spend your time alone, even though you could have easily accompanied your employees. Yet, you had been running a bit late that day, an important phone call lasting much longer than you had initially anticipated, causing your break to be pushed off until around 1:55.

Of course, as you finally exited the building, you had passed many of your employees returning from their own breaks. Of course, they had instantly morphed into a crowd of suck ups the mere moment in which you had walked by, greeting you with an array of different compliments and praise. And even though you desired absolutely nothing more than to simply ignore such meaningless interactions, the hours of forced socialization already managing to completely drain you at that point, you had plastered on your fake grin once more, returning each greeting with a kind wave or a similar verbal sentiment.

As you finally arrived before your own car, you had immediately barricaded yourself inside the vehicle, promptly releasing a long sigh of exhaustion as soon as your body had successfully collided against the cushioned seat. You assumed that each of your employees had surely returned to the building by now, providing you with the perfect opportunity to successfully relax and decompress following the hours of constant shared interactions.

However, such an assumption was quickly dismissed as your vision flickered open once more, scanning the rather desolate expanse of the parking lot, before you eventually perceived the last employee still utilizing the remaining five minutes of his mandated lunch break: Lars Lindstrom.

You couldn't help but smile at his devotion. Almost each of your other employees never failed to return to the building at least five minutes before the clock struck two, completely dismissing the final stretch of relaxation in an attempt to somehow impress you. Yet, what had actually managed to influence you was Lars and his carelessness, proud of the reality that he didn't simply dismiss his own time in order to gain some sort of brownie points with his boss. Instead, if he was granted a thirty minute lunch break, then you best bet he was gonna use it, and you admired such determination.

However, what had pleased you even more was the fact that there was obviously a reason as to why Lars was so specific about his mandated lunch break. In comparison, this also wasn't just some act of defiance either, a way for him to battle against the societal expectation of arriving early. In fact, for those remaining five minutes of solitude, assuming that he was now completely alone within the empty parking lot, you had silent observed as Lars wearily glanced towards each surrounding vehicle, confirming that it was actually vacant, before he had finally released a visibly trembling sigh.

From such a distance, you couldn't perceive anything lower than the middle of his upper chest, only capable of viewing his head, neck, shoulders, and sternum, before the metallic car door successfully shielded the remaining expanse of his body. Yet, despite such a buffer, it was still extremely obvious as to what he was currently participating within.

As he glanced towards what you assumed to be his lap, features slowly becoming engulfed below a soft rosy blush, he had frantically fiddled with something unknown from behind the barrier of the car door, before his arm had finally started to move.

You were a bit confused at first, brows furrowing as you attempted to decipher exactly what was actively occurring from behind the shield of the car door. He refrained from allowing his skull to properly relax against the provided headrest, fighting against the urge for his vision to flicker shut within complete relaxation, although it was extremely obvious that was all he desired to do. Instead, his attention had remained alert, head held upright as his vision remained utterly fixated upon the building entrance, all whilst the repeated motions of his arm swiftly became much quicker and frantic.

Oh my God, Lars Lindstrom, the most adorable and quiet man within the entire office, your most favored employee, was now desperately jerking off within the parking lot of the office building as if his life had depended on it.

And even worse, you had watched. You should have looked away, redirected your vision, and acted completely unaware of his current predicament. Yet, you just couldn't seem to properly distract yourself, certainly not ignorant to the manner in which your thighs had involuntarily squeezed together as Lars actively pleasured himself.

He was frantic, desperate, and absolutely pathetic as his lips parted into a visible moan, one in which you were unable to successfully perceive from such a distance, but you were certainly aware of its presence. Obviously, he was attempting to finish before anyone had caught him, before the five minutes had eventually come to an end and the clock had finally struck two, indicating the conclusion of his mandated lunch break, causing his sudden absence to become unavoidable. Sure, Lars enjoyed his time alone and didn't stress about the measly five minutes, as all of his other coworkers had. Yet, he was still a man of routine and being late certainly wasn't like him, simply due to his own comfort and natural tendencies.

His measures were both quick and sloppy, as if he had done this a million times before. Of course, his face was flushed, lips parted as silent groans repeatedly slipped from his throat, and shoulders violently shaking with each smooth stroke he successfully executed. But other than that, he attempted to appear as unsuspecting as possible. Maybe, from anyone else's perspective, it might have seemed as if he was just simply having a bad day, overwhelmed as he experienced some sort of mental break within the confines of his own vehicle. Yet, you knew that certainly wasn't the case. In fact, Lars was the farthest thing from unhappy within that exact moment.

At exactly 1:58, with a bite of his lower lip, a flair of his nostrils, and a tremble of his vision, Lars' movements had suddenly eased. Slowly, his shoulders had stopped shaking and his rapid breathing had decreased. You assumed he had finished, especially due to the manner in which he promptly leaned towards the passenger side glove box, retrieved a napkin, in order to successfully wipe his palms of the evidence, and finally ventured from his car.

As his feet eventually collided against the cold pavement below, Lars slowly rose to his full height, basically looming over the roof of his car, as a result of his rather impressive stature, along with the small size of his personal vehicle. He paused for a moment, consuming a deep breath of courage, allowing his shoulders to relax, and squeezing his vision shut, as if to both mentally and physically prepare himself.

If it weren't for the visible crimson hue currently adoring his features, Lars may have appeared completely normal. His clothes were still pristine, hair perfectly tended to, and his typically anxious demeanor caused his obvious trembling to be regarded as a lot less concerning. He was a naturally nervous individual, so his blatant anxiety wasn't exactly out of the ordinary. In fact, you would have been more suspicious if Lars hadn't seemed even slightly nervous. Yet, even then, the visible flush actively radiating from his flesh could have easily been excused by the crisp winter air.

However, as his irises finally popped open once more and he slowly peered down the row of parked cars, from about six vehicles away, your vision had suddenly connected. Immediately, as if his life had just flashed before his eyes, Lars irises had widened, visible blush only further intensified, and his lips instantly parted into a silent gasp. Obviously, he was terrified. Who wouldn't be after their boss had just caught them pleasuring themself within the work parking lot? However, when you had only managed to provide him with a rather knowing smirk and a gentle wave of your fingers, appearing not even the slightest bit angry, but actually rather... Flirtatious? Lars had swiftly darted towards the office entrance, skittering away like a nervous little squirrel.

You couldn't help but softly giggle to yourself, shaking your head in astonishment, just as you had always reacted whenever Lars had behaved so fucking cute. Despite the fact that he was a grown ass man and you had literally just caught him jerking off within public (an act in which would have instantly disgusted you if it had been anyone else within his position), a rather affectionate warmth had suddenly infiltrated your chest.

Thats the day in which your shared dynamic had suddenly shifted, your relationship transforming into something much different compared to the average, boss-employee rapport.

Of course, you had provided Lars with a bit of time, certainly not ignorant regarding the fact that he had promptly started avoiding you for the following week afterwards. Each occasion in which you had accidentally managed to encounter one another by the copier machine, or whenever you had been required to venture towards the general area in which his personal desk had resided, Lars would practically tuck his metaphorical tail between his legs as he scurried towards his respective cubical, depicting that of an terrified mouse running from a hungry snake.

In all honesty, you had quickly began to miss Lars. You mourned the rather relaxing conversations the two of you had shared, the rare type of work interaction that hadn't completely exhausted you. The sudden loss of his extremely endearing jokes (rather surprising quips to receive from Lars, the typically quiet and shy type) had caused you to feel rather empty. You longed for his companionship, heart aching at the mere thought of his cute mustache.

Therefore, after about a week of his constant avoidance, you had finally grown impatient and ventured towards Lars' cubical one afternoon.

Your movements were audible throughout the office, the repetitive click and clack of your heels against the cement tiles echoed against the empty walls. And like a blaring siren, such a sound never failed to successfully alert each of your nearby employees. As you bypassed each cubical, every present team member would immediately straighten up, typing aimlessly upon their computer or fumbling with reports in an attempt to appear as if they had actually be working the entire time. They'd all frantically great you as you walked by, in an effort to gain some form of brownie points from their boss. Their enthusiastic mannerisms were obviously a facade, and as much as their performance had annoyed you, you never failed to reward each employee with a similar "Hello!" Or a polite "Im doing good, you?" Just as you knew was expected of you.

However, in all honesty, if they had been sucking up to you, in order to gain your approval with the usage of such eagerness, then weren't you as well? The only reason you had constantly acted so cheerful was in an attempt to receive some sort of validation from your employees, so who were you to judge?

Finally, as your journey came to a conclusion and you eventually halted in front of the small entrance of both Lars' and Kurt's shared cubical, it was as if a thick fog of tension had suddenly infiltrated the atmosphere. Almost immediately, it was uncomfortably awkward, your skin beginning to crawl as you gracelessly cleared your throat, in an attempt to capture either of their attention.

Of course, Kurt was quick to remove his headphones, nervously fumbling with the headset whilst it clattered within his grasp, swiveling within his chair in order to properly greet you. You perceived the subtle hint of anxiety flickering across his features, a flash of brief fear, as if he was worried that his obvious miss use of such a privilege (the pair of ear phones) would manage to promptly frustrate you. You were well aware of the fact that Kurt certainly wasn't utilizing such an amenity for work related reasons. Christ, he wasn't even using them for music. In fact, you had received many complaints in regards to his professionalism, especially referring to the headphones and their justification within specific. Yet, you were much too distracted by a much different topic to even contemplate such a policy violation within that moment:

In comparison, whereas Kurt was continuously falling all over himself in response to your unexpected arrival, Lars hadn't moved an inch. Instead, he had simply remained back towards you as he focused upon the screen of his computer. Such an accidental form of avoidance was typical for Lars. Most of the time, he wasn't intentionally attempting to ignore you. In fact, out of everyone within the entire office, Lars was the only person in which was actually working, his mixture of concentration and productivity often causing him to become rather ignorant to his surroundings.

Yet, even as Kurt had promptly greeted you with an awkward smile and a nervous "Hey, Miss. (Y/L/N).", Lars had only continued to dismiss your presence. Obviously, you were well aware of the reality that his rather oblivious appearance wasn't due to a true lack of awareness. In fact, your proximity had been known long before you had even successfully arrived, due to the audio of your heels repeatedly colliding against the tile flooring until you eventually paused before the desired cubical. Additionally, the sound of Kurt promptly greeting you certainly hadn't been unheard by Lars. Instead, you were certain that he was aware of your presence, ultimately deciding to shield himself behind a facade of shy ignorance, due to his own overwhelming amount of fear within that moment. He wasn't just awkward or timid, as he usually was. No. Rather, Lars was absolutely petrified.

Throughout the expanse of that entire week, Lars had become almost sickeningly anxious, concerned that he might accidentally throw up, simply as a result of his own fears. He was constantly worried about the moment in which you'd inevitably invite him into your office, under the guise of a simple "chat." Obviously, such a pretense would soon be revealed as false when you would ultimately fire him for his prior misconduct. Of course, Lars would have understood, well aware of the fact that such inappropriate endeavors were certainly prohibited upon company property. Yet, although he would have ultimately accepted such a decision, he just couldn't seem to ease his own anxiety.

In all honesty, Lars had mentally regarded his previous actions as completely opposed to who he truly was as a person. Only just a few months prior, he would have never participated within something so improper whilst at work. Christ, he had barely even permitted such obscenity within the comfort of his own home. Yet, now, he just couldn't seem to help himself, especially with the manner in which your mere existence had seemed to completely destroy every last ounce of his former dignity.

Unbeknownst to you, you had accidentally destroyed the remnants of the old Lars Lindstrom, the local "good boy" who was the very farthest thing from improper. You had promptly replaced that commendable citizen with a depraved little freak, a monster who could no longer even go to bed at night without indulging within at least an hour worth of porn related research. Like some sort of devious vixen, you had absolutely erased any evidence of the man Lars had once been, swiftly replacing him with a desperate and constantly horny shell of himself. Christ, he would have crawled across hot coals upon his hands and knees, just to inhale your signature scent for a mere moment. Even the simple smell of your sweet and somewhat erotic perfume had done unexplainable things to him.

The manner in which you'd prance around all day, appearing both confident and assured as you breezed through the office, head held high and almost untouchable, had completely hypnotized Lars. You were just so self-assured, a quality in which he had both adored and envied at the same exact time.

You never allowed any form of disrespect, certainly not afraid to promptly correct those who had even dared to patronize you. You were poised, assertive, and rather dominant towards those who attempted to belittle you, possessing an impressive amount of self respect that Lars had certainly regarded as attractive.

Your work casual attire, often threatening the line between professional and provocative, had absolutely destroyed him. Your pencil skirts were just a little too tight, dark stockings much less modest and a lot more sensual, and pristine office pumps seeming rather sultry. Lars often wondered how someone could make such a boring and basic cream colored blouse seem so absolutely fucking sexy, the small buttons threatening to burst against the pressure of your perky breasts at any moment. In all honesty, if such an event had occurred, Lars was almost certain that he would have promptly died from arousal right then and there.

And God, just the way you seemed to favor him never failed to cause Lars to become both flustered and shy. All throughout his life, he had never been deemed as the favorite. Whether that be in regards to his own father, within the school setting, or just during his general social life, Lars was always the one that most others had simply ignored.

Well, excpet for you.

In fact, there had been many occasions in which he would receive a variety of different comments from his coworkers, wondering why you had treated him so differently and what he had done to gain your favor. Every day, his peers would work tirelessly to receive such approval from you, a specific form of acceptance in which you had repeatedly deprived them of. Sure, you were kind, understanding, and the farthest thing from strict. Yet, your softness towards Lars had been genuine, real, and true, whereas your compassion towards his coworkers was typically a performance. And no matter how hard they truly tried, whether that be through the usage of compliments, gifts, and almost excessive labour, his peers just couldn't seem to obtain your approval. The exact form of gratitude that Lars had appeared to gain just by simply existing.

"Tell me your secret, buddy." Kurt had whispered one day, the office practically dead silent as he gently nudged Lars' shoulder.

Of course, the unexpected physical contact had caused Lars to briefly wince. Yet, such a pained expression was almost instantly replaced by a countenance of utter confusion once he had successfully consumed Kurt's previous inquiry.

"What secret?" Lars asked in return, somewhat intrigued by such a random and rather puzzling question.

In Lars' defense, such a question was extremely perplexing. Only moments prior, the two of them had been sitting within complete silence, focused upon their own separate tasks. He was honestly unsure as to what his officemate was actively referring to. There were many secrets Lars had possessed, none of which Kurt would have been even remotely aware of.

With a dramatic roll of his eyes and a slightly frustrated huff, Kurt had further shifted towards him, swiveling his chair in order to properly face Lars, as if this was the most serious and private conversation two people had ever once shared throughout all of human history. Kurt had appeared so earnest, Lars had honestly started to become a bit nervous.

"Ya know? Miss. (Y/L/N)? How did you do it, man? How did you get her to actually like you?" He asked, causing yet another wave of confusion to wash over Lars. The mere mention of your name alone had caused something to stir deep within Lars' chest, something primal, something sacred, something absolutely daunting. "Did you fuck her?"

The words had reverberated within Lars' ears like a shot gun blast, practically deafening him as a deep crimson flush had instantly started to glaze his features.

"W-What?" Lars repeated, depicting that of a broken record, utterly shocked and even a bit embarrassed by the mere insinuation of such a notion.

Kurt rolled his eyes once more, Lars' visible form of ignorance only managing to further annoy him.

"Sure, she's nice and all, but you're the only one she isn't so, whats the word...? Fake with. You're the only one she actually seems to like, the only one she doesn't act like she's forced to talk to. So what did you do? Tell me your secrete, 'cause I need a raise." Kurt explained.

In all honesty, Lars had never thought of it that way. Of course, you were nice to him, but you were kind towards everyone, right? Didn't you always both laugh and joke with everyone else the same way you had done with him? Didn't everyone's heart flutter whenever you were nearby, your mere presence causing them to become somewhat shy and uncontrolled, just as you had effected him? Surely, you hadn't treated him special, had you? No, of course not. No one had ever rewarded him with any form of favoritism before, so why would you?

Yet, according to Kurt, supposedly not.

"Lars, Id like to see you in my office, please." You had finally declared, stern voice piercing the thick silence like a sharp knife slicing effortlessly though a soft cake.

Now this, this was something Lars couldn't just simply ignore. He was unable to act completely unaware anymore, now that you had literally addressed him within specific.

You didn't provide him with enough time to properly respond to such a demand. In fact, Lars hadn't even been able to successfully greet you before you had immediately ventured towards your office once more, the repetitive click and clack of your heels against the concrete floor instantly revived back to life.

"Oooohhhh." Kurt had mocked as soon as you were out of ear shot, like this was middle school all over again and Lars had just been called to the principles office from over the intercom.

With burning features and a rather rapid heart rate, Lars had immediately rewarded his officemate with an extremely dirty glare, eyes narrow and expression stern.

"Shut up." He grumbled as he promptly rose from his seat, his obvious defensiveness earning an amused chuckle from Kurt who had quickly repositioned his headset over his ears the second in which you had finally disappeared.

Just as always, Lars had done exactly as you had asked. He nervously traveled towards your designated office, the only office that wasn't a measly cubical. Your office was positioned within the far corner of the room, located within its own, private area, a feature in which Lars had often envied. Whilst you had been granted with your own solitude, in return, Lars had been forced to work along side God damn Kurt.

Throughout the length of his journey (despite the fact that your office was only located about thirty paces away from his own cubical), Lars was absolutely petrified. His figure was slightly trembling, vision successfully blurred by tears of shame, and heart threatening to burst from his chest at any moment. It currently as if Lars was participating within some sort of humiliation ritual, his final walk of shame before he was promptly terminated. Of course, the word would quickly spread, gossip never failing to infiltrate the small office like wild fire. And soon enough, each of his coworkers (individuals he had often encountered within life outside of work, whether that be whilst visiting the supermarket or attending church) would soon be informed of the exact reason behind his dismissal. God, the mere thought had caused his stomach to churn with a rather sickening sense of nausea.

As he wearily approached your office, Lars soon discovered that the door had been left wide open. You were currently sitting behind your desk, appearing completely consumed by the hidden content actively displayed upon your computer screen. Yet, from his current angle, Lars was completely unaware of the fact that you weren't working upon some sort of important report or responding to a company email, as he had assumed. Instead, you were just aimlessly scrolling through an array of different emails you had already perused that very moment, in order to appear even somewhat busy.

The strange mixture of both nervousness and excitement currently vibrating throughout your system had caused you to become somewhat anxious, a rare sensation of worry that you certainly weren't accustomed to. Obviously, you had wanted to appear studious, concentrated, and the least bit apprehensive in front of Lars. But why? Had the promise of getting Lars Lindstrom alone, for the first time within at least a week, managed to successfully unease you? Usually, you were the confident, assured, and steady type. Yet, for some odd reason, you suddenly felt like a nervous school girl all over again, flustered by the mere notion of potentially encountering your crush within the hallway that day. Had the shy and quiet Lars actually caused your typically poised nature to suddenly falter?

As soon as your intense vision flickered towards him, Lars immediately averted his gaze towards the floor beneath his feet, scarlet blush only further intensifying in response to your attention.

"Come in, Lars. Shut the door behind you, please." You had requested, much less of an offer and more of a demand.

Lars hesitantly entered the room, motions both nervous and weary, as if he was actively exploring a lions den. As he successfully closed the door behind him, you had urged Lars to occupy the available seat situated upon the other side of your desk, the empty chair positioned directly across from your own. The mere idea had caused an invisible shutter to suddenly spiral down the length of his spine.

Whilst he cautiously slid into the unoccupied seat, Lars had struggled to avoid any sort of proper eye contact, especially due to the fact that you were currently located directly in front of him. He was looking absolutely everywhere but your face, whether that be gazing towards the floor, tilting his head up at the ceiling, or silently inspecting his nervous, sweaty, and trembling palms.

You were aware of the fact that if you had been standing upon his initial entrance, Lars would have followed suit, rejecting such an offer for him to settle whilst you remained standing. The contrasting stances certainly would have frightened him. Therefore, as soon as Lars was successfully seated, thats when you had promptly risen from your chair. As you slowly sauntered around the edge of your desk, now looming above him, Lars struggled to successfully swallow the thick lump of fear currently lodged within his throat, the unfamiliar height difference instantly intimidating him. However, too afraid to possibly upset you, his literal boss, Lars had promptly remained seated, despite his increasing anxiety.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Lars." You had exclaimed, supporting the most professional and calm voice you could possibly manage. You had briefly paused, providing him with the opportunity to respond. Yet, of course, he had ultimately remained silent, only prompting you to further continue. "I wanted to discuss the other day with you."

The world was suddenly spinning from all around him, hearing now muffled, vision foggy, and breath faltering. His extreme terror, the sudden inability to properly consume air, and the fact that he was swiftly becoming extremely dizzy, had caused Lars to worry he might faint.

"I think we both know what Im referring to, so I wont go into any detail." You declared, pausing only a few feet to his right. Lars still wouldn't even glance towards your general direction, glossy vision remaining focused entirely upon his nervous palms as he continued to fiddle his fingers within his lap. "However, I do hope you know such... activities are not acceptable upon company grounds."

With that, Lars was almost certain that he was about to cry; his breathing was now irregular, throat slowly swelling shut, and vision completely blurred. God, he felt absolutely humiliated.

"I-I know." He whispered, sounding utterly ashamed. These had been the first words he had actually expressed towards you since the fateful day in which you had caught him masterbating within the parking lot.

You executed another lengthy stride within his direction, the last remaining space quickly depleting as you slowly advanced, only causing his heart rate to further increase.

"You've been a very naught boy, Lars."

Huh?

Suddenly, his attention shifted towards you, as if all of his previous caution had been instantly dismissed in response to such a statement. With his head titled, Lars silently observed your features, an obvious expression of utter confusion currently plastered across his face. His brows were furrowed and vision somewhat concerned as he nibbled absently upon his lower lip.

That wasn't at all what he had expected. In all honesty, Lars had simply assumed that you were about to fire him the moment in which you had originally invited him into your office, prepared to explain that he was to immediately collect his things and to never return again. Yet, the words that had actually ventured from your lips weren't as firm, angry, or upset as he had expected. Instead, such a claim was very peculiar, extremely surprising, and rather familiar.

Lars had certainly heard this before, the same exact words that had been declared within a variety of his most favored porn videos. Such films often portrayed an extremely similar scenario: A measly employee being punished by his female boss after he had been caught pleasuring himself at work. Such a claim was obscene, dirty, and certainly not appropriate for the work environment.

No, he obviously must have been over reacting, right? Clearly, that wasn't what you had meant... Was it? Maybe the various nights in which he had remained awake into the early hours of the morning, mere hours before his scheduled shift, really had done a toll on him. Such constant media consumption had obviously altered his brain chemistry and rationality.

His vision perceived your current expression, lips pulled into a rather devious grin, eye contact unfaltering, and expression of pure hunger, actively depicting that of mythological siren about to lure him into your grasp with the usage of your undeniable seduction, before you would promptly devour him whole. Lars had quickly concluded that his previous assumptions had been correct: You were implying exactly what he had presumed.

A shuddering gasp had suddenly slipped from his lips, breath hitching within the depths of his throat as Lars instantly tensed, not exactly sure if your unfaltering attention should have excited or terrified him. You appeared somewhat intimidating from above him, almost mischievous as you silently admired him, within the same manner one might adore an enticing thanksgiving meal. And in all honesty, Lars felt strangely aroused.

This just couldn't be happening. There was absolutely no way that you, his literal boss, were implying exactly what he had assumed. Nuh uh. Of course not. Out of everyone within this entire office, despite the wide variety of selections, you had actually chosen him? Lars had honestly believed that there were plenty of other employees that you would have selected over himself, men who were much more handsome, charming, and confident compared to him. As much as Lars hated to admit it, he had honestly assumed that you would have selected Kurt before himself. And due to the manner in which Kurt often regarded to you, within his typically perverted fashion, Lars was well aware of the reality that his officemate would have been extremely thrilled to be the one within such a position at that exact moment.

However, what Lars obviously wasn't aware of was the reality that you didn't want any other man. In fact, you were utterly obsessed with Lars, truly believing that he was the most attractive person within the entire office. You adored his shy tendencies, such timid behaviors often arousing you. You yearned for nothing more than to bring him out of his shell. For such a timid and quiet man, you were almost certain that he would be extremely vocal within bed, and such a thought had utterly intoxicated you. With his flustered blush, cute mustache, and adorable sweaters, you just wanted to destroy him.

Yet, despite his increasing anxiety and overwhelming self-doubts, Lars had ultimately failed to protest. Although he assumed that this was just some sort of sick prank, he did not stop you or even attempt to flee the scene. Instead, he remained completely silent and utterly motionless as you slowly sank to your knees, crawled between his legs, and promptly situating yourself at his feet.

"You've been a bad boy, Lars. I think you deserve some sort of punishment, don't you agree?" You had purred, a twinkle of mischief flickering across your vision as you peered up at him through thick and fluttering lashes. Such an intense and almost daunting expression had almost frightened Lars, your features depicting that of a succubus prepared to swallow his soul.

As you slowly reached towards the zipper of his slacks, Lars was unable to muster any sort of response, to successfully reward your previous question with a dignified answer. Instead, a shiver of arousal suddenly vibrated throughout his figure as a gasp of astonishment exploded from his lips. The most he was able to manage was a quiet whimper, tone so low, you had barely even perceived it at all.

"Oh, sweet Jesus-"

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