hi!!! I'm 🫀 because much like the symbol known as prince I'm a little full of myself (I'm KIDDING) I'm 22 and I've been writing for on and off 10 years, I do this as a hobby and I'm honestly incredibly shy and nervous due to a long history of bad experiences in online communities
I have a lot of interests but the main fandoms I'll write are
Author’s notes: written for what I guess were calling Glizz Fest 🩷✨ celebrating the pink shimmery goodness that is stored inside the Ken
Glizz Fest includes appearances from: @ken-f-cker @drivinmeinsane @hollandstrophyhusband and @uncleclam, and we thoroughly encourage anyone else to participate in making Ken glizz!
Warnings/content: nsfw, nudity, hand job, cumming untouched, hinted first time, GLIZZ 💖
Lars sighed, pulling off his woolly hat and sliding off his coat with eyes squeezed shut. He’d just about managed to lose Karin when she had tackled him to his car and made him promise to join her and Gus for dinner tomorrow if he wouldn’t come tonight.
And it definitely would not be tonight.
He’d had a long day at work, battling against incessant noise and constant interruptions from his insufferable coworker about topics he’d rather not discuss. Not at work anyway. And not with him.
What would it take to just be left alone for a single minute?!
‘Lars?’ Came a sweet voice from behind the bathroom door, and Lars remembered himself. He’d almost forgotten about his new guest in the whirlwind of just trying to get through his front door.
His heart skipped a beat when he opened his eyes and saw Ken emerging in a haze of steam, one of his own fluffy white towels tied low around that tiny waist. Wrapped very low. And Ken’s hipbones we’re protruding in such an… interesting way…
Lars swallowed hard.
He’d never actually seen Ken’s body. Not properly anyway, since Ken had been dressing in Lars’s thick sweaters to combat the cold weather he wasn’t used to. And this almost naked Ken was quite a sight.
His skin was glowing pink from the heat of the shower, and Lars watched a droplet of water trickle over his chest and abs, all the way down to soak into that towel he suddenly had the urge to remove. Should he be wondering what Ken looked like beneath it?
But Ken was perfect and Lars couldn’t stop looking. He blinked furiously, trying to tear his gaze away, but as he turned himself about to find a distraction, he just kept ending up back on Ken’s chiselled chest and broad shoulders and strong arms and-
‘Lars, have you had a hard day?’ Ken pressed, dropping his head back to shake the remaining damp from his soft, beach-blonde hair.
‘Uhm- yeah,’ Lars nodded, finally finding Ken’s outrageously sparkly blue eyes instead of focusing his gaze on that ripped torso.
‘Hmm, I bet I can help with that,’ Ken offered, stepping forward. Lars stumbled back and Ken frowned. ‘Unless you don’t want me to…’
Lars took a deep, shaky breath, steadying himself and trying to quieten his thoughts.
‘No, no, it’s not that I don’t want- well, it… it depends what you have in mind,’ he stuttered, unsure but curious, and Ken beamed at the intonation of his voice that suggested Lars might be open to what he had in mind. Ken didn’t know how to say it, and he didn’t really understand it, but he wanted to be closer. To be able to actually touch Lars.
‘Oh I think you’ll like it! You see, I’m great at doing massages. I bet I can relax your shoulders in no time at all!’
Every word from Ken’s perfect lips was eager and excited and did nothing to help Lars stop thinking about how he wanted to get his hands on those outrageous pecs and squeeze them, and then press his mouth to Ken’s, swallow his moans as he-
Ken shot past Lars to sit himself on the edge of the bed, flexing his elegant fingers. ‘So? What do you say?!’
‘Okay,’ Lars breathed, dropping down beside Ken. What hard would a shoulder massage do?
‘Oh, great! So just take your sweater off, and your shirt. And your underclothes- how many layers do you wear?!’ Ken mused, pulling at the shoulders of Lars’s sweater.
Lars snapped himself up, instantly pacing the small space between his little kitchen table and his bed, running his hands through his hair to calm himself. Ken’s touch, even through his many layers of clothing, was causing an uncomfortable heat to stir between his thighs. Uncomfortable but intriguing. And he couldn’t ignore it. Especially not with Ken’s big, strong hands on his shoulders. Especially not if he took his clothes off. He wanted it, that was the problem. He’d never wanted touch so badly.
‘Lars, what is it?’ Ken smiled up at him. ‘If you don’t wanna take your clothes off it’s ok-’
‘Ken, how would you feel if I touched you? Instead?’ Lars stilled, facing Ken, who was still grinning up at him.
‘Sure!’
Lars’s eyes widened. ‘R-really?’
‘Yeah! I love massages. Not that I’ve ever had one. But I like the idea of it! How do you want me?’
Lars almost choked. Ken’s big hopeful eyes and fluttery eyelashes made his heart skip, too.
‘I guess… lay down on the bed?’
‘Okay!’
Ken made himself comfortable laid still on his back, just like a boxed up doll waiting eagerly to be plucked from the shelf, unwrapped and played with.
Lars’s chest heaved. He’d expected Ken to lay on his front. But… he could hardly complain at the view. Carefully, he knelt on the mattress, hands finding Ken’s ankles for balance as he shuffled up to the hem of the towel.
He pushed his palms up the smoothe, soft skin of Ken’s shins and Ken spread his legs. Lars turned momentarily dizzy. He stopped at the towel, not daring to reach beneath it, and instead splayed his hands slowly over the expanse of Ken’s chest, fascinated with the contours that were so unlike his own, caressing the firm muscles as he slid his delicate yet warm touch higher, over those deliciously broad shoulders and then back down, eliciting an almost imperceptible giggle from Ken as he disturbed both perky, pink nipples.
‘That tickled!’ Ken smiled up at the ceiling, still laid obediently, but shivering a little now.
‘Sorry,’ Lars whispered earnestly. ‘Such a pretty doll…’
Ken’s cheeks burned crimson. ‘D-do it again?’
‘Oh… okay…’
Lars dragged his thumbs gently over Ken’s perfectly formed nipples and Ken moaned.
Lars did it again. And again, until Ken was trembling and his fingers were gripping the blankets at either side of him.
Ken was pretty sure massages didn’t usually focus so heavily on nipples, but it felt strangely good to be touched so carefully, with all of Lars’s attention on him through a heated gaze. A new thrill ran through Ken and pooled somewhere low, right at his core, and his stomach clenched with a need he didn’t recognise. It was pitched somewhere between hunger and the instinct to scratch an itch.
Lars, meanwhile, shifted uncomfortably between Ken’s spread thighs, his cock straining against the inside of his trousers. He glanced down as he manoeuvred and immediately caught sight of the huge tent that had formed under Ken’s towel, too.
‘Ken…’ Lars breathed, hands now at either side of Ken’s waist and eyes glued at the impressive bulge between his legs.
‘Yeah?’ Ken sighed dreamily, glancing down too. His eyes widened when he saw the shape under the towel, and the similar one in Lars’s trousers.
‘M-May I touch you… there?’ Lars heaved, tentatively lifting a shaky hand to hover over Ken’s length, standing to attention before him.
Ken’s hips bucked up involuntarily. ‘Yes! Please-!’ he whimpered.
With a heavy exhale, Lars unfastened the towel and let it drop to his sides, revealing the prettiest cock he’d ever seen. He gasped at the sight of it, smoothe, long, a little leaner than his own but still thick, a pearly drop of what looked like pink precum beading at the tip.
Ken whined as another thick drop of precum pumped from his tip, his cock twitching with anticipation.
‘Alright…’ Lars braced himself, nodding and taking a deep breath as he watched Ken, still laid out obediently, although his innocent smile had turned into a needy lip bite that made Lars’s cock twitch too.
He felt Ken shudder when he traced a single finger up from the base to the tip, still in awe of this beautiful, perfect sex toy of a cock and the way the pink liquid he was steadily leaking glittered in the light.
He pressed his palm to the underside, giving a gentle rub against the soft flesh to rest the waters. Ken shuddered.
‘Such a pretty doll,’ Lars repeated, more to himself than anything, and Ken’s length throbbed against his palm.
‘Please,’ Ken mewled, not really sure what he was begging for, ‘f-feels so good-’
‘I know,’ Lars soothed, smiling, finally wrapping his fist around Ken’s cock and pumping slowly. ‘I know.’
Ken stiffened beneath him, back arching off the bed and fingers nearly tearing through the sheets. Lars moaned, feeling his own cock throb inside the confines of his trousers, the way he was knelt on on his ankles putting his trousers taut over his core which did nothing to alleviate the desperate ache there.
‘Lars- Lars!’ Ken cried, not knowing how to process what he was feeling or what was building inside him.
Ken’s head tipped back against the pillow, and Lars leaned over him, not wanting to miss a single minute of his deliciously pleasure-contorted face.
Lars braced himself over Ken with his free hand by Ken’s side, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as the pressure of his crumpled trousers against his straining cock eased with the new position, the fabric rubbing against him with a friction that almost hurt.
‘K-Ken,’ he panted, pumping his doll faster, harder, watching as Ken lost control.
A strangled cry echoed around the room as Ken’s hands flew up to grip onto Lars’s back and he shot a thick rope of sparkling pink cum over his own chiselled abs, splashing up against Lars too, the hot glitter pooling around the defined muscles of Ken’s stomach and clinging to the fibres of Lars’s sweater, staining the wool.
‘S-so pretty…’ Lars was breathless just watching him, his handsome face screwed up in bliss, pretty lips parted, and his hair, which had dried a little messier than Lars was used to seeing it, stuck to his forehead.
Ken gradually blinked open his eyes to see Lars above him, bracing himself with both hands now, biting his lips together and screwing his eyes shut tight, chest heaving.
‘Lars, are you-’
‘Oh- oh… oughhhmmmnnnh!’
‘Oh!’ Ken exclaimed excitedly, lifting his head to look between their bodies. ‘You’re glittering too?! Wow!’
Lars’s body curled above Ken, the last of his seed spilling into his underwear, cock twitching through his orgasm, achingly untouched but so relieved it felt heavenly.
He whimpered weakly, collapsing beside Ken, a prominent wet patch forming on the front of his trousers, while Ken’s glitter shone proudly over his jumper.
Ken was already an excited ball of energy, high on the thrill of his orgasm and eager to learn more about Lars’s pleasure, too.
‘Wow look at this-’ Ken dragged his fingers through the cum on his stomach and examined it in the light. ‘It’s so pretty, and it felt incredible! Is yours glittery too? What colour is it?’
‘It- it’s not-’ Lars tried, but he couldn’t finish the sentence, vaguely featuring toward his trousers instead.
‘Please can I see it!?’
‘Mmhmm.’
Ken unfastened Lars’s trousers hastily and gasped just as loudly as Lars had when he saw Ken’s cock for the first time.
Lars was softening now, but his cock was impressive, thick and sturdy, a thin line of dark blonde hair trailing down from his stomach to the base of his cock where it grew thicker. Ken was fascinated by that, but for now he was too preoccupied with the glitter to focus on it.
Lars peered down to see Ken, some shimmering liquid now spread over his cheek somehow, looking closely at Lars’s cock, his head tilted.
‘It’s not glittery unless you’re a doll,’ Lars said softly, breathlessly.
‘Huh…’ Ken dipped his fingers into the thick creamy pool collected in Lars’s underwear and brought his fingers up to eye level. ‘Feels just as nice though… may I taste it?’
Lars’s eyebrows raised for a second, and then his head fell back against the pillow, Ken’s sucking their combined cum off his fingers the final straw, until Ken spoke again.
Summary: Holland wants you completely filled to the brim with him.
Warnings/content: nsfw, fingering, cream pie, cum play, overstimulation, alcohol/drinking mention, soft dom/sub vibes, praise, messy sloppy sex (business as usual with Holland), lil bit of hand kink I guess
Holland’s lips slid wet and hungry down over your throat as your head sunk further into the pillow. He was still inside you, his thick, warm seed having filled you to the brim until it trickled out past his cock and pooled on the mattress beneath you.
Your legs trembled as he slid himself out, your core still sensitive and sore from the stretch, aftershocks sparking up into your belly.
You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath before you felt him settle beside you, a large hand immediately cupping your heat.
‘Mmh…’ he grunted, burying his face by your head to whisper in your ear. ‘Filled you up so full…’
His hand rocked back and forth over your slick folds and you shuddered, shocks of pleasure-pain shooting through your limp body.
A fingertip ghosted over your entrance, but in a flash his hand disappeared. Despite feeling like another orgasm might cause you to pass out, you groaned at it’s absence.
‘Need to make sure you got it all,’ he cooed, voice low and ridiculously seductive. You could sense that he was scraping at mess on the bedsheets between your legs. Collecting up the seed he’d spilled that there simply wasn’t room for while he was still inside you.
You opened your eyes, glancing up to see his sparkling blues heavy lidded and half closed, bottom lip caught tight between his teeth in a bite so firm you were surprised he didn’t draw blood.
‘H-Holland-’ you whined, but you couldn’t finish the question that was gradually forming in your mind, close to blacking out when his fingers pushed straight into you with no warning.
And god, it felt good. Two long, delicate fingers sliding slowly against your clenching walls, pushing his offering further inside each time it threatened to dribble back out, stuffing you full of his thick seed.
‘You can take it all, can’t you?’ he smirked, watching you shiver with a thrilling mixture of anticipation and overstimulation.
You nodded weakly, and you thought your hands were gripping onto him, but you were so blissed out, so full of him, you couldn’t exactly tell. All you could focus on was the gentle sloshing of his fingers in your combined juices, the heat building again in your core, the sound of his voice…
He removed a finger then, using just one gentle digit to target that spot inside that makes your toes curl every time. No matter how much Holland had been drinking, he never seemed to struggle with his fingers; they were always precise, always careful, always made you scream.
As his fingertip massaged you expertly to the brink, he captured your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss, forcing his tongue inside and dragging it over yours so needily you couldn’t help but mewl into his mouth.
You could still taste yourself on him, too, traces of an hour (two hours? Three?) past.
You were gone. Completely enveloped in him, mentally, physically, he’d overwhelmed you with his touch, his scent, his words.
‘That’s it… I’ve got you,’ he breathed hot against your swollen lips, his damp forehead pressed to yours. ‘You can give me another one… now you’re full with my cum you can do just one more for me, I know you can, I’ve got you...’
He sped up then, finger pistoning into you, curling up just right each time he thrust it in, the wet sound almost obscene. Then his thumb pressed perfectly to your throbbing clit, rolling it in circles, and you fell apart.
‘So good, baby… oh, you did so good,’ he muttered against your cheek between firm kisses as you shook through your orgasm. He avoided your lips to allow you room to moan his name and catch your breath.
He deliberately dragged his sopping finger up over your sensitive clit when he pulled his finger out, just for the thrill of seeing one last shock of pleasure rip through you. ‘Fuck that was hot... just rest for me now, alright? Jesus you did so good cumming for me so many times. And taking all my jizz… Jesus there’s a lot of it, you had me cumming for days. Fuck.’
You couldn’t keep your eyes open for a moment longer, falling from hazy post orgasm bliss into a deep sleep to the sounds of Hollands lewd but heartfelt praise.
Summary: You help an embarrassed Lars learn to enjoy pleasure and embrace his desires (or, you want to make him cum but he’s nervous about it)
Author’s notes: this little fic was inspired by an idea from @ken-f-cker, encouraged by @hollandstrophyhusband, supported by @heresthestorymorningglory and exists because I just can’t leave this poor man alone. On that note, if anyone wants a part 2 of this with afab!reader, let me know! The title is taken from the album name of one of my Lars songs 🫶
Warnings/content: nsfw, hand job, subby Lars, dubious consent (relating to his orgasm), crying, praise
Lars felt so soft and warm beneath you, your leg hooked comfortably over his knee and your head resting on his slowly rising and falling chest where you listened to the steady rhythm of his contented heart. Your fingers toyed with the hem of his sweater and now and again you heart his heart jump when your skin met his under all those layers he wore.
His arm was wrapped firmly around your shoulders, strong and secure. Lars was stronger than even he knew, and butterflies soared in your stomach every time he displayed it, even in a subtle way like this. He made you feel safe.
You could have stayed like that forever, but everything must come to an end eventually, and the end here was unexpected but actually very welcome.
Lars kissed the top of your head after you’d made him laugh with a silly joke. The warmth of his lips pressed to your hair was momentary, and he hadn’t even really realised he’d done it, but something in the air immediately shifted at that small affection and before you had a chance to really even process it, you found yourself sliding up his chest to meet his soft lips with your own.
He gasped when you pulled back for breath, diving forward, his head hovering above the pillow to smash his lips back onto yours with a fervour you’d only ever seen in him when he’d taken his temper out on the unsuspecting logs outside.
Lips sealed to yours, he hungrily sucked your tongue into his mouth, fingertips driving into your arms to keep you still above him while he eagerly explored your mouth.
Even with him laid beneath you, the force of his kiss was dizzying. You braced yourself with a steady palm against his chest, hiking your knee up further to steady yourself.
You felt Lars shudder, and white a whine so quiet you almost missed it, the kiss came to a jarring (and disappointing) halt.
You pushed yourself up further to see what was the matter, and as you manoeuvred, your thigh slipped down a little, and you felt it. The unavoidable, solid length between Lars’s thighs, pressed against your leg.
You stared down at him in awe, his eyes squeezed shut, kiss-swollen lips parted to let out shaky, uneven breaths, cheeks glowing red… and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. And to make him moan this time.
You pushed your thigh higher between his legs, pressing perfectly against his clothed cock, and, writhing against you, he whimpered with each trembling breath, the sound a simultaneous beg for more while chastising himself for wanting it.
‘Lars?’ you cooed softly, gently placing your palm to his burning cheek, which seemed to calm him somewhat.
He stopped bucking up against you and his face scrunched up with frustration and embarrassment, but he nodded and let out another nervous little whine of acknowledgement.
‘Hey, it’s ok… see?’
You slid the hand caressing his face down over his sweater, feeling his breath catch, and lower until you were cupping the bulge in his trousers.
Lars let out a stream of quick breaths, rendered unable to move. Had he ruined everything with his untimely bout of arousal? And why did it feel so good?
‘Lars, I’m ok with this… are you?’
He only blinked rapidly in response, so lost in a haze of pleasure and panic that he barely heard your words while he tried to process all the new feelings swirling inside him.
With one swift stroke of your palm to bring him back to you, you tried again; ‘Lars, do you want this?’
He nodded sharply. ‘Mmhmm-’
He couldn’t manage to formulate words right now, not with your hand on his twitching, leaking cock. But you understood.
You rolled your wrist again, rubbing in a steady, continuous rhythm over his length through the thick layer of his trousers, your movements slow and careful, and his back arched off the bed with a low groan.
‘Easy, baby,’ you soothed, slowing a little to get him used to the feeling before your skin met his. He looked like he might cum any second and as hot as that might be, you wanted to give him something to remember.
‘I’m gonna get these trousers unfastened, alright?’
Another quick nod from Lars, and another hum.
You made mindful work of freeing his straining cock from the confines of his trousers, opening them up just enough to slip your hand inside his underwear, not wanting to overwhelm him with nudity on top of everything else. There would be plenty of time for that later.
He smiled when you settled beside him, but as your warm fingers slipped past the elastic of his underwear and wrapped loosely around his cock, he cried out a high pitched, ‘Ahh!’ and began rutting his hips up to meet the gentle massaging of your fist.
‘Does that feel good?’ you whispered, watching his face contort in bliss.
‘Y-yes,’ he managed, ‘f-feels… so… ohhh- mmmh-’
‘You’re doing so well for me,’ you praised, swiping your thumb over his already oozing tip to collect a satisfyingly thick pearl of precum and smear it down his length.
‘N-never- I’ve never- oh!-’
His head flew back into the pillow, fists grabbing desperately at the duvet beneath him.
He’s trying not to cum, you thought with a smirk.
‘I- I’ve never- ohhh-’ he tried again, struggling against the crashing waves of pleasure overpowering his ability to think clearly enough to finish a sentence.
‘It’s alright,’ you soothed, ‘I know. I’ve got you.’
You watched Lars closely as you worked your hand carefully, memorising every flicker of pleasure over his soft features, every needy little sound that escaped his parted lips, every desperate little thrust of his hips. His hair had fallen over his forehead in loose, messy strands, and his eyes had turned delightfully dark in the shadow of it.
You could feel him tensing, each muscle in his body rapidly switching from relaxed to taut to relaxed again; his release was close. You pumped faster, almost frantically, to get him there, and his hand flew to your wrist.
‘Mmh… I’m- ohh! Oh, no, please, I’m gonna… s-stop… stop, please, before I-’
‘Cum for me, Lars,’ you encouraged, making him shudder as you slowed again to the gentle pace that seemed to drive him crazy.
He was so deliciously sensitive, responding just how you’d hoped to the sensual rhythm of long, slow strokes.
A strangled cry tore from his throat as he rolled his hips in time with your ministrations. ‘No, n-no, I can’t, I-’
‘N-no- I- I shouldn’t, I- stop! Oh!- ah!- ohh-ughhhh-nnmmmh!’
The strong fingers wrapped around your wrist squeezed tighter, burning your skin in their searing grip, but you managed to keep up the rhythm of your fist until he couldn’t fight his climax any longer and you finally brought him off, pumping just a little harder as his orgasm ripped through his body.
Lars’s hands flew to his face, covering his pleasure-pained expression as he thrashed against the bed, spilling and spilling his release up out of his underwear, staining the hem of his sweater and coating your hand.
His chest heaved with loud, ragged breaths as he came down from his high, trembling as his cock softened and twitched with aftershocks.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whined under his breath the moment you pulled your hand out of his underwear, ‘I’m so sorry!’
You gently guided his hands down from his tear-stained face and wiped his eyes with tender fingertips.
You saw his lip tremble, so you leant in to press your own lips to his again.
‘Lars,’ you breathed as you pulled away, ‘you did so good for me, baby.’
His eyes were big and round and wet, staring into yours semi-hopefully. ‘I… I did?’
‘You did. And I think you needed that, didn’t you?’
His cheeks flushed somehow redder, and he averted his gaze, nodding. ‘I’ve never… never been… touched like that before. I was worried you wouldn’t want me to… y’know, so I felt kind of nervous letting go. I'm sorry about the mess.’
‘Are you kidding? I wanted to make you cum the moment I laid eyes on you.’
Lars squeezed his eyes shut, unable to believe what you were saying and mildly embarrassed by your bluntness. You really thought of him that way the whole time?
‘Listen to me. You never, ever, need to apologise for enjoying pleasure, alright?’
His eyebrows raised as he gazed across at you, awe-filled eyes still glossy. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before he spoke again. ‘So, uhm…’ he cleared his throat, ‘if I wanted to make you feel like that…?’
‘You can. And you will. When you’re ready.’
Lars nodded, brow furrowing as he fell into deep thought.
‘It’s alright. When the time comes, I’ll guide you, ok?’
Lars’s concern softened into a smile. The Lars you were used to.
‘Ok,’ he agreed.
You propped yourself up on an elbow to assess the gorgeous mess he’d made, core clenching at the dishevelled state of him, laid out with his legs spread, trousers unfastened, underwear damp with his seed, sweater stained, hair mussed, face hot. You needed to remember him in this moment. He was beautiful.
‘Now, how about a bath?’
‘W-will you join me?’ Lars muttered, feeling bold but still unsure, fighting the sleepiness that had begun to pull at his eyes with all he had.
The grin that spread across your face was answer enough, but you nodded anyway, and he briefly buried his face into your chest, giggling sweetly, unable to believe his luck.
Summary: You and Holland find yourselves home at the same time for a brief moment during the day. Despite a fresh injury, and Healy waiting outside, you can’t keep your hands off one another.
Author’s notes: this one is for @hollandstrophyhusband who inspired this naughty little story with the spark of a brilliant idea that quickly spiralled!
Warnings/content: nsfw, hand job, subby Holland, praise, cum play kinda?, suit kink, kind of public since Healy can probably hear if he listens hard enough, injury mention, light angst, mention of edging, smoking, biting
You watched from your relaxed position on the sofa as Holland burst through the front door and leapt into the kitchen, ransacking the cupboards one by one. He left every cabinet door open after he’d rifled through the contents behind them, tupperware and pans falling everywhere in a coccoughany only he could create, urgently moving to the next and the next until he reached the kitchen drawers and began his assault on them, too.
‘Need some help, handsome?’ you called, calmly stepping over to the chaos.
Startled, Holland shot up from his hunched position over the cutlery drawer, bashed his head directly into the open cabinet door above, and, dizzy, spun haphazardly around to bump directly into you.
‘It’s just me!’ you said softly, holding your hands up, and he dropped back against the counter.
‘Oh, Holland… let me take a look at that,’ you soothed, reaching up to thread your fingers into his tousled hair and feel for a bump.
‘I’m looking for the- for the- I forgot… fuck, do you think it was the bang on the head? Do you think it knocked out my goddamn memory?’
‘Well, let’s see. Do you know who I am?’
‘Yeah, a hot piece of ass, that’s who you are,’ he smirked, trying to dodge your caring hands to kiss you on the lips, missing spectacularly and scowling like a sulking child.
‘I’m sure whatever you were looking for, it’ll come back to you.’ you chuckled, ignoring his advances and moving his face around to check his pupils were dilating in the light.
Holland rubbed at the sore patch on his head again and for a moment you worried he would think back to the bump on his head that lost him his sense of smell. Thinking about that too much usually ended in him getting horribly drunk for days on end and sobbing into your shoulder every night until he worked through it.
Time to distract him.
‘You’re so sexy in this suit, Holland. Blue is definitely your colour.’
It might have been a distraction technique, but it was also a complete truth. You could never resist him in this outfit. And he knew that.
You moved back, caressing his cheek with one lingering palm and trying to keep your thoughts on track as you wondered whether he would still be wearing this when you saw him tonight. You hoped so.
‘You seem good, I think you were just shocked.’
Holland took a deep breath to steady himself, but he recovered quickly, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. ‘Didn’t expect you to be home.’
‘Took a late lunch and decided to come make something nice. You want some?’ you offered with a vague gesture to the sofa where you’d left your plateful on the coffee table.
‘I want some of this,’ he drawled, grabbing a handful of your ass to pull your body flush to his.
You gasped, falling against him and finding that his cock was already straining against your belly in those tight pants of his.
‘Naughty,’ you smirked. Leaning up to kiss him, but you heard a cough outside and paused. ‘Is that Healy?’ you sighed, dropping back disappointedly.
‘Yeah, he’s waiting outside,’ Holland shrugged, and leant back in to you as though it made no difference to him that his partner was feet away, probably counting down the minutes right outside.
‘Oh Holl- we can’t- not with him- Holland surely you’re not going to-’ each protest amounted to nothing as Holland stooped to kiss and suck sloppily at your neck.
Now who was getting distracted.
‘Alright hold up, horndog,’ you finally got out, sliding both hands down Holland’s chest to push him back against the counter. ‘Think with your brain and not with your dick for one second, baby, ok? Healy’s a detective. And your partner. He’s gonna come bounding in here with his gun when he gets suspicious about how long you’re taking, and he’s gonna see… well, whatever it is you’re wanting to do with me.’
Holland whined in disappointment, knowing you were right. But god, he wanted you. Needed you.
‘But…’ you whispered, pressing yourself to him and snaking your arms around his lithe waist, ‘I can give you a little something to keep you going… until later?’
Holland’s eyes lit up and he straightened, readying himself for whatever you had in mind. ‘Y-yes… please-’
‘We have to be quick, alright? No holding off.’
Holland nodded, biting his lips together in anticipation, eyes wide with wonder at your genius.
You wrapped your fingers around his tie and yanked him down, kissing with madly crushing lips as your hand slid down the brown silk and found the waistband of his pants instead.
Popping his fly open with ease, you swiftly pushed his shirt away and slid your palm inside his underwear, dragging up his thick length painfully slowly.
Holland shuddered, rolling his hips as you began to pump with a loose fist, watching with delight as he gradually lost composure.
‘Jesus- fuck-’ he muttered breathily, head dropping into the crook of your neck. ‘Mmh, f-fuck-’
‘Listen, Holland, baby, when you get home tonight, I’m gonna make your favourite dinner, take you to bed and fuck you senseless. Does that sound alright?’
He nodded against you, whimpering, feeling tears threatening his eyes. He’d found he cried during or after an orgasm quite regularly these days, but it felt pretty good and you didn’t seem to mind, so he didn’t fight it anymore.
His throbbing cock twitched in your tightening grip as your thumb swiped copious amounts of precum from the tip and the first tear slid down his cheek, wetting your shoulder.
His legs shook as he rocked into your fist and you knew he was trying to draw out his pleasure, not wanting to end this feeling of safety and warmth and bliss that overpowered everything else. Overpowered his pain. And usually you’d let him. You could edge him for hours until he was a whiny, begging mess, and he was just as beautiful each time.
You wished you could do that for him now, but the sound of Healy’s feet shuffling on the gravel outside came as a sharp reminder, and you sped up the twisting of your wrist, the snapping of his hips unconsciously matching your pace.
His knuckles had turned white where he gripped the counter behind him for balance, but they flew to your shoulders now instead, and you could feel his desperation through his fingertips.
‘You’re gonna have to stay quiet when you cum, ok, baby? Or Healy’ll hear you.’
He nodded, whining desperately and trembling, knowing how loud he could be but not feeling in control enough to modify his volume. He was putty in your hands and if you couldn’t keep him quiet then he’d simply have to suffer the consequences.
He tried, though. He really did. His head flung back, his eyes shut tight and he bit down on his bottom lip so hard you thought he might draw blood.
Then his jaw dropped and a strangled moan slipped out that he just couldn’t stop. You quickly slapped your free hand over his mouth, muffling the end of his high pitched cry.
He hummed against your palm, moaning a little more freely now his sounds were muted.
The vibrations of his low tone and the warmth of his wet lips against your palm made your core clench.
‘That’s it, baby,’ you cooed, working him just the way you knew he liked, alternating between soft and slow then fast and rough — chaotic, just like him— until he was ready to explode. ‘Let go for me…’
He bit down on your fingers then, his steadily rolling hips stuttering as his cock twitched through rope after rope of creamy seed pumping from the tip, spilling into his underwear and over your hand.
He fell back, limp and panting while you grabbed the nearest tea towel to wipe your hand clean, returning to lean up and kiss him tenderly on the lips.
‘Will that keep you going, baby?’
He whimpered an incoherent response, nodding slowly.
‘You were so good for me… just you wait until tonight,’ you smiled, smoothing his hair back. ‘Here, let me help fix you up.’
Holland focussed on catching his breath as you tucked in his shirt — and his cock — and carefully pulled up the zipper on his fly. You could feel his eyes burning into you as you neatened him up, and the heat seemed to pool in your stomach. If only you had a little more time right now.
While you were fastening the clip on his waistband, you looked up to see Holland had surreptitiously lit himself a cigarette and was blowing out a long stream of thick smoke on a relaxed exhale.
He held his cigarette out to you when you looked up, and you shook your head.
‘You enjoy it, baby, you deserve it. Now, go back to Healy before he gets antsy.’
Holland groaned, pawing at you. ‘But Healy doesn’t make me feel the way you do…’
‘Tonight, Holland,’ you promised again, ‘Go!’
‘Alright, alright. Hey, how do I look?’ He spun around as he walked away and you stole a glimpse of his perfect ass in those tight pants.
‘Completely fucked out, but somehow tidier than when you arrived.’
He smirked and nodded, swaggering out of the door with an obnoxious amount of confidence.
****
‘Did you get it?’ Healy’s gruff voice echoed down the drive.
Holland froze, staring at Healy like a rabbit in the headlights.
‘Jesus, March, did you get it?’ he repeated, perturbed.
‘Uhm,’ Holland shifted uncomfortably, feeling his own seed, fresh and slick, coating his cock inside his underwear. He hoped you’d give him a chance to shower before you undressed him tonight. ‘Y-yeah I-’
‘Forgot what you went in for, didn’t you?’
Holland let out a dramatic sigh of relief, running his fingers through his hair and turning on the spot with a gentle, ‘Ha!’
‘What, don’t tell me you got drunk in the-’ Healy checked his watch, ‘fifteen minutes you were in there?’
‘No, no- I-’
‘Forget it. Come on,’ he gestured for Holland to follow him to the car, and like an obedient puppy, he did, while Healy considered him. ‘Why are you walking like you just dismounted a horse? What the fuck were you doing in there?’
‘Nothing, I was just… y’know, looking for the… thing-’
Just before Healy had a chance to unlock his car, you thrust open the front door, waving a piece of paper containing the information you assumed Holland must have been looking for. It had been right on top of the fruit bowl all along. ‘Hey, baby, I found it!’
Holland’s eyes turned wide and Healy’s eyebrows pulled into grim suspicion as he glanced from Holland to you, and back to Holland again.
‘You’re disgusting, you know that?’
‘What?’ Holland shrugged, like it was nothing.
‘I was right outside! Can’t keep it in your goddamn pants for a minute, can you, March? Jesus. Go get the goddamn paper. And no hanky panky, come straight back this time! Jesus Christ!’
Holland jogged over to you, wincing at the slick dripping onto his thigh now, and placing a tender, lingering kiss on your cheek as he slid the paper out from between your fingers. ‘Thank you, baby,’ he whispered with a wink, ‘for everything.’
‘See you tonight, handsome,’ you winked back, watching him jog back down the drive to Healy who was already firing up the engine. ‘And you can keep that suit on.’
