i will figure out some tags in time so check back in once i get my shit together and start posting fr !
expect:
❣️ lars lindstrom my darling babygirl
❣️ x reader fics
❣️ SI fics
❣️ probably many other rygos
❣️ at least /some/ instances of fattening him up because oh lordy this boy needs calories and kisses so if that's not your cup of tea maybe skip the #cookie jar tag 💝🍪
summary: you and Lars try cuddling for the first time
contents: fluff. Reader doesn’t like long sleeves because…me too
word count: 1.3k
a/n: first longer fic in a hot second. written at 2 am so sorry if this is booty butt
Lars is slowly warming up to touch.
Key word, slowly.
The first couple of weeks of dating had Lars jerking away from attempts at hand holding. You knew it wasn’t out of malice or secret hatred, it was his touch aversion. You were patient, eventually building up to holding pinkies which turned into hand holding palm to palm, which turned into you being able to hold onto his arm without him being uncomfortable.
The next couple of months, you helped Lars get comfortable with just your presence. Movie nights used to be spent on opposite sides of the couch, but, with Lars' permission, you started to sit closer each night, eventually moving so close that your shoulders and knees almost bumped. It startled him at first when he realized how close you had gotten—not at the burn he thought he would feel, but the absence of it.
Now, Lars wants to work on cuddling. He told you himself.
“I want to try to…” he wrung his hands together as you put away the dishes he cleaned. You turned your head towards him, hand still outstretched as the plates clinked with one another. You didn’t interrupt him, not wanting him to lose his thoughts.
“…Cuddle.” The word felt wrong on his lips. It’s something he’d never thought he’d want or even have the opportunity to try.
Seeing that little sparkle in your eyes come to life washed away most of the doubt that swallowed him whole. His cheeks rose and filled out as he smiled, eyes crinkling when you fully faced him.
You were obviously trying to hide your excitement. Lars learned you were pretty bad at that—you always gave it away with that smile that was just a smidge too wide to be just ‘happy’. With hands clasped behind your back, you took a small step towards him, bouncing slightly on the balls on your feet.
“When…when do you want to try?” You asked, rolling back onto your sock covered heels.
He swallows thickly. “Tonight.” His voice comes out more demanding than asking. He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut for a second, before looking back at you. “Only if you want.” He backtracks, thick fingers messing with the hem of his favorite sweater he wears around the house.
You nod enthusiastically, shifting your feet on the smooth wood of his ‘kitchen’. “I’d love to, Lars.”
You both decide to watch a movie before bed, with you sitting next to him, gently leaning on him. Lars leans into you, both of you keeping yourselves upright.
It started with a small yawn on your part. Then a big yawn from the large man beside you, and another yawn from you, which eventually lead to you both mutually deciding to end the movie early and retire to bed.
You followed Lars’ nightly routine with him. You brushed your teeth with the spare he bought for when you stayed over, shoulders occasionally brushing with little reaction on Lars’ part—more of recognition than anything distressing.
He gave you a pair of old shorts and one of his only short sleeve shirts (he knows you don’t like tight sleeves on your arms), and you dressed in the bathroom while he changed in his bedroom.
Stepping out of the bathroom and towards the bedroom, you peeked your head in the doorway, seeing Lars sitting oh so politely on his bed—back straight, hands clasped in his lap. A hand leaves his lap to give you a wave when he sees you in the doorway, and you can’t help but giggle and wave back, which makes Lars smile.
You sit down next to him, one leg tucked underneath your body on the mattress as the other dangles off the bed. “How do you want to do this?” You ask gently, watching as Lars’ gaze flickers from you to the mattress beneath him.
“Well,” Lars starts, tongue messing with the inside of his bottom lip before he catches it with his teeth. He’s nervous. “I don’t, I don’t really know.” He admits softly. He braces himself for a sudden rejection, a ‘nevermind, I don’t want to do this’ that never comes.
Instead, you offer an idea.
“Do you want to just lay down and…go for it?” You shift further back on the twin sized bed, and Lars shifts with you absentmindedly.
You watch Lars debate with himself in real time. You can see when he’s weighing the action with the outcome, and when a bad outcome creeps into his mind—but you also see the moment when he manages to put it all aside, and lays down on the right side of his mattress with enough room for you on the other.
“I’m ready.” His voice is soft, laced with a hint of sleep that you don’t catch in your own drowsy state. You slowly nod in confirmation, lowering yourself down to rest your head on his pillow.
Your faces are probably closer than they’ve ever been before, but Lars doesn’t seem uncomfortable—nervous, yes. He closes his eyes, drinking in the moment, and you realize that this might be what he meant by cuddling. You’re fine with that, and you two are decently closer than you normally are on the couch—
Big paws suddenly find their way onto your shoulders, settling before they curl around your body. The left snakes its way behind your neck and comes up to cradle your head, his arm shielding around you. His right wiggles its way underneath your side that you’re laying on—at first it’s slightly awkward and uncomfy, but you soon melt into his embrace when his full arm comes to wrap around your middle.
Lars gaze is soft, currently fixated on the hand that’s cradling your head. You both lay together, a bit awkward in his arms as he’s technically holding you yet you’re still quite a distance away from being held against his chest.
Lars soon tugs you closer, and you make a small noise that causes him to check on you.
“I’m okay, Lars.” You whisper, and Lars sighs in relief.
He tugs you closer a little bit more. A little more. A little more, until you're completely flush with his chest, your head tucked under his chin. You sigh against the soft fabric of his shirt, curling your arms close to your chest as he holds you close.
“Is it okay?” You mumble, a small yawn wracking through your frame.
You feel his head bob up and down slowly, the movement weighed down by sleep. You hear a small sniffle from above.
“Mhm.” He presses his nose to your hair. “No. No, it’s great.” He corrects himself, his gentle voice breaking on the last word. You feel a tear fall into your hair, and you nuzzle closer. You’ve learned that Lars just needs to feel things sometimes, and let him regulate himself.
“Very great,” you press a soft kiss to the fabric covering his heart. Lars holds you tighter, and you a small, content sound that Lars mistakes for discomfort. He loosens immediately, looking down at you with a stray tear down his face.
“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” He worries about his bottom lip between his teeth, and you can’t help but smile at his concern. You shake your head.
“No, no. Good noise,” you murmur, your sleepy voice barely making a sound. “I like it when you held me tight. Made me feel safe.” You watch as his worried frown morphed into a dopey smile, pulling you back to his chest.
He tightened his grip on you, whispering into your hair. “Is this okay?” When you nod, he finally closes his eyes.
Lars never thought he’d be able to hold hands with someone, let alone cuddle—but you have proved him wrong, and he hopes you continue to.
hey hey you you i don't like your boyfriend ✦ Lars Lindstrom x reader
a little exposition prototype of a story i've been rolling around in my little brain. there's a 50/50 shot i keep it as an x reader fic or pivot to SI...
contains: foreshadowing of a shitty boyfriend, lars does NOT like him, and a whole lot of nothing else yet because i'm warming up my >decade-atrophied fanfic muscles
It'd been a few months since you'd gotten together with your boyfriend. The two of you had your meet-cute at the lake where he went to fish and you went to clear your head. Work was taking a toll on you recently, and you needed to touch grass. One thing led to another...you know how it goes.
Your coworkers had taken notice of your stress - your hair getting duller, the circles under your eyes getting darker. But despite your new relationship, you hadn't shaken the look that you had just rolled out of bed and smacked your head on the roof of your car on your way to work. Every day.
It almost seemed like...you were getting worse?
Today was a particularly crummy Wednesday afternoon. Six reports due by Friday EOD, and you had only half of the first finished. What on Earth was I doing on Monday and Tuesday? you wondered to yourself. The days were a blur, and your head hurt.
You took a swig of your lukewarm coffee. It was your third cup, yet you struggled to keep your eyes open still. You rubbed them until your vision cleared and manged to type a few lines, fill a few cells. Every so often you'd take a glance around your cubicle. You'd decorated it with pictures and toys to make the space feel less like a prison and more like...an enclosure, with some decor for enrichment. Some days you felt like a caged animal. If the shoe fits.
The hair on the back of your neck began to stand - you were being observed again.
"Yes, Lars?" you asked without turning around.
A few seconds passed. A quiet huff and fading footsteps signaled that he had moved along.
Your quiet, awkward, and certainly neurodivergent coworker had really amped up the amount of time he spent lingering behind your desk. You had only worked there for half a year at best, but he had never taken such an interest in you until the past few weeks. Rather, he hadn't taken an interest in you at all. He still hadn't said a word to you directly. Normally you would bring something like this to HR, but he seemed harmless enough, and the rest of the office seemed unphased by his...quirks. You brushed it off and "continued" on your reports, painfully aware of the minutes dragging by.
✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦
4:54pm. Six minutes. You used this time to tidy up your desk, put pencils away, shuffle together stacks of paperwork, and write a few vague sticky notes to remind yourself of what needed done tomorrow. You hovered your cursor over the "X" in the top right corner of your Excel sheet.
"You didn't save."
You visibly jumped in your seat and whipped your head around to tell off whoever startled you. To your surprise, it was none other than Mr. Silent Treatment himself.
"I'm sorry?" you asked, too rattled to contextualize what he had said.
He cleared his throat and pointed to your computer. "Your report...you didn't save it." He tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels, waiting for you to respond.
Without turning your head, you angled yourself back to your desk to Ctrl + S. "Thanks," you replied cautiously.
Lars pursed his lips, which completely disappeared behind his mustache. You watched him, wide-eyed and observant, until he nodded and turned on his heel, whisking himself away.
You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair. You hadn't even noticed him behind you this time...how long had he been watching? And still, why? You didn't see him do this with anyone else in the office. Sure, he had a habit of lingering too long and not responding when spoken to, but for no one else did he make a point to just stand behind them at least several times a week, never saying a word.
Your glance moved back to the clock - it was 5:02pm now. Whatever was going on with Lars was not of your concern anymore. You clocked out and made your way to the door. You had someone at home to return to, and he wouldn't appreciate you spending 2 minutes of your personal time thinking about a man who wasn't him.
