Proship friendly and multi-ship friendly. Because at the end of the day, it's just fiction. None of it is real.
What are my fuckin favorites?
Color- lavender
Food- Ramen, sushi, and fried rice
Movie- Steel Magnolias. Doesn't matter how many times I've seen it, I still laugh and cry everytime.
Show- Psych, Rise of the TMNT, Animaniacs, The Amazing Digital Circus, and The Pitt
Book- To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I know I sound pretentious as fuck by putting a "literary classic" as my favorite, but this book means a lot to me. It had a heavy influence on how I started to see the world as a little kid. One of my prized possessions is my dad's beat up copy from high school that I got when he died.
Song- *UPDATED 02/23/2026* Islands in the Stream by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers
Album- NSYNC's No Strings Attached album. Each song slaps, this is not up for debate.
Band- Ice Nine Kills, Halestorm, Ninja Sex Party, Sabrina Carpenter
Game- Cards Against Humanity and any of the Wario Ware games
Fun Fuckin Facts
Star sign- Sagittarius, November 24♐️ 🤙
Birthstone- Topaz
I'm allergic to cantaloupe
Licensed phlebotomist and CNA
Most recent movie I've seen in theaters- *UPDATED ON 7/26/26* Hadestown
bottom ryland in a "even before the hail mary he was very used to taking care of himself and then on the hail mary he really felt the lack of human connection and its so so nice to FINALLY have someone to take the work off his hands and make him feel good and he doesn't have to think about it anymore because there's someone else to do it for him" way
and top simon in a "sex on eden is incredibly controlled and supervised to keep the population under control and its so nice to FINALLY be able to let go and do exactly what he's been craving the whole time with someone who's willing to let him take control after a life time of being a tool and a prisoner" way
and top ryland in a "he has a natural ability to take care of people and he loves to see that he's made someone feel good, its incredibly gratifying and he can't get enough" way
and bottom simon in a "please use my body like its delicate and something to be tender with and not like a weapon, please treat me softly and let me be soft with you" way
hii just a thought but you know how lars takes out stress by chopping wood? Imagine his partner allowing him to use them as stress relief instead. I feel like he'd be pounding them while apologizing cause he feels bad for being rough but he needs the relief so badddd.
Oh my godddd okay…
You can tell when Lars is frustrated and needs to take his energy out somewhere, and you can tell when it isn’t enough.
You feel kinda bad about it but when he’s feeling that way out, it turns you on so much, like when you get to watch him chop wood. So you practically beg him to just use you however he wants to. He’s so unsure about it, worried it’s not fair or that he might hurt you but of course you assure him you want this too.
He starts out gentle and you encourage him to go harder, reminding him you want this and he won’t break you, until he finally cracks and fucks into you a bit rougher, until the bed beneath you is creaking and slamming agaunst the wall.
‘Im sorry,’ he growls, pounding into you, ‘I’m so sorry,’ over and over with every thrust until he feels your nails in his back and your walls tightening around him and finally lets go with a strangled cry.
After meticulously making sure you’re really okay, he sleeps for ten solid hours after that, and wakes feeling like jelly. You have to call into work for him and pretend he’s sick because you feel so bad for putting him through it after all the apologising he did, and don’t wanna wake him.
Okay so don't imagine going to lars work to drop off his lunch during break
Don't imagine the hours before when I sent some very not Christian texts and photos and went out with a normal winter outfit (sweater, skirt, tights, leg warmer socks) with nothing underneath it
Don't imagine Lars pulling me away to pound the fuck out of me in a secluded supply closet to put out his frustration since there's no logs out to chop
Don't imagine lars spending his 30 minute break being absolutely filthy and walking out of that supply closet with torn tights around my thighs and wobbly legs
Don't imagine lars going back to his cubicle absolutely smug with his hair and tie completely out of place, his dress shirt half untucked, and with a full face flsuhed
DON'T IMAGINE HAVING SNEAKY SEX WITH LARS IN HIS OFFICE
The Lunch Break Risk
Lars Lindstrom/reader | MDNI, Explicit |
Summary: A midday delivery turns into a high-stakes game of secrecy when a provocative morning leads to a desperate encounter in the office.
Tags: public/sneaky sex, exhibitionism, dark Lars
Authors note: so sorry I couldn’t get this out sooner I’m such a procrastinator
The winter air bit at your cheeks as you walked toward the office building, your outfit looking perfectly innocent to any passerby. Beneath the thick knit of your sweater and the modest drape of your skirt, you felt dangerously exposed; the lack of underwear was a secret that thrummed against your skin with every step. Your phone sat heavy in your pocket, a silent reminder of the scandalous photos you’d sent Lars only hours ago.
When you reached his cubicle, the professional atmosphere felt suffocatingly tight. Lars was staring at his monitor, but the moment you approached, his posture stiffened. He didn't look at the lunch bag you placed on his desk; instead, his eyes raked over you, dark and heavy with the frustration you had spent all morning cultivating.
Without a word, he stood, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. He grabbed your hand, his grip firm and possessive, pulling you toward the back hallway where the supply closets lay in shadow.
"You're a menace,"
He pulled you into the cramped, dim supply closet, the door clicking shut with a finality that made your heart leap. The scent of paper and cleaning supplies was instantly overwhelmed by the heat radiating from him. Lars didn't waste time; he backed you against a shelf of binders, his hands sliding down to your thighs.
"Those photos..." he rasped, his breath hot against your neck as he felt the smooth, bare skin where your tights met your thighs. "They've been driving me insane all morning. And now you show up looking like this?"
His fingers hooked into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it up. The cool air of the closet hit your bare skin, making you shiver, but the heat of his touch was far more intense. He groaned, his forehead dropping against yours as he realized you were just as undone as he was.
"I have twenty minutes before I'm expected back," he muttered, his voice thick with a desperate, focused hunger. "And I'm going to spend every second of it making you regret being so reckless."
Lars didn't give you a chance to answer. With a sudden, powerful movement, he hooked his hands under your thighs and hoisted you upward. You let out a soft, muffled gasp as your back hit the cold metal shelving, the impact jolting through your spine. He braced himself, one hand gripping the edge of the shelf for leverage while the other squeezed your ass, his fingers digging into your soft flesh with a possessive strength.
"God, you're so soft," he growled, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours, his breath hitching as he felt the heat radiating from you.
He began to work at the hem of your skirt, his movements frantic yet purposeful. The friction of his palms against your skin sent sparks through your nerves, and you found yourself clinging to his shoulders, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist to pull him even closer.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" he whispered, a dark, knowing smirk playing on his lips before he pressed his mouth to yours.
The man you had been dating for months was a quiet, gentle soul who always held the door open and spoke in soft, measured tones. But this Lars this version of him that was currently crushing you against the shelving was a stranger. He was primal, unyielding, and driven by a raw, dark hunger that made your blood sing.
You leaned your head back, a low moan escaping your throat as his hands moved with a newfound, aggressive confidence. The contrast between the shy man who brought you flowers and this man who was currently devouring your mouth was intoxicating. You loved the danger of it; you loved seeing the cracks in his polished, professional exterior.
"Lars..." you breathed, your fingers digging into the fabric of his dress shirt, pulling him closer.
"Don't call me that," he growled, his teeth grazing your jawline as he fumbled with his belt, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. "Not right now. Not when you're looking at me like that."
He fumbled with his trousers, his breathing coming in jagged, uneven hitches that betrayed just how much he was struggling to maintain control. When he finally freed himself, the air in the small closet felt like it was vibrating with the tension between you.
Lars gripped your hips with bruising force, pulling your legs even wider around his waist. He didn't ease in; he drove into you with a single, punishing thrust that knocked the breath from your lungs. Your head hit the shelf with a soft thud, and you bit your lip to keep from screaming his name, your eyes wide and glazed with pleasure.
"Tell me," he hissed, his eyes dark and predatory as he began a heavy, rhythmic pounding that made the metal shelves rattle. "Tell me you meant every single word in those texts."
You could only nod, your body arching against him as he reclaimed the dominance he had been suppressing all day, his movements becoming faster, more desperate, and utterly unyielding.
The rhythmic thud of his hips against yours sent a shudder through the entire shelving unit. Binders slid precariously, and a stack of paperweights rattled dangerously against the metal. Panicked by the noise, you reached out, your fingers white-knuckled as you gripped the edge of the shelf for stability.
You buried your face into the crook of his neck, seeking refuge in the scent of his skin. Every time a cry threatened to burst from your throat, you stifled it against his collarbone, turning your moans into low, vibrating hums that were lost against his skin. The muffled sounds only seemed to fuel him; he leaned into your touch, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he drove deeper.
"Good girl," he rasped, his voice a rough vibration against your ear as he felt you trembling. He increased the tempo, his hands sliding from your ass to the shelf to anchor you both as the small space became a blur of heat and friction.
Your legs, wrapped tightly around his waist, swayed uncontrollably with the sheer force of his momentum. The sensation was overwhelming, a dizzying pendulum of heat and pressure. Releasing your white-knuckled grip on the shelf, you reached out to cling to him, your arms winding around his neck as you pulled his burning body flush against yours.
"Honey... Lars, god..." you whimpered into his skin, your voice a broken, breathy plea. The name felt heavy on your tongue, a desperate anchor in the storm of pleasure he was conjuring.
Lars let out a guttural sound, something between a groan and a snarl, as he felt your walls tighten around him. He didn't slow down; instead, he gripped the undersides of your thighs, hoisting you higher to change the angle, driving into you with a final, frantic intensity that made the entire closet feel like it was spinning.
"Stay with me," he choked out, his eyes blown wide and dark, focused entirely on the way you were coming undone beneath him.
The end came with a violent, shattering intensity. You arched your back, your fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders as a silent scream died in your throat against his neck. Your entire body convulsed, your internal muscles clenching around him in rhythmic, desperate waves that pulled a choked, primal roar from Lars's chest.
He buried his face in your hair, his movements turning heavy and sluggish as he spilled into you, his body trembling with the force of his own release. For a long moment, the only sound was the frantic, uneven thudding of two hearts fighting to find their rhythm again.
As the adrenaline began to recede, the reality of the situation rushed back. The silence of the office outside the door felt heavy. Lars slowly lowered you back to your feet, his hands lingering on your waist as he helped you adjust your clothing. He looked down at your thighs, where your tights were now snagged and torn, a messy testament to the last ten minutes.
"We have ten minutes," he whispered, his voice still wrecked, his eyes scanning your flushed face with a terrifyingly smug warmth. "Fix your hair. I'll see you at the desk."
You leaned against the cool metal of the shelf, your legs feeling like jelly as you tried to steady your breathing. Your heart was still hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. With trembling hands, you pulled your skirt down and attempted to smooth out the ruined tights, the jagged tears around your thighs a stinging reminder of his hunger.
Lars didn't wait for you to finish. He straightened his shirt, though his fingers were clumsy, and began fastening his belt with a focused, predatory calm. His eyes never left yours, watching you struggle with a look of intense, dark satisfaction.
When he finally turned to the door, he looked nothing like the man who had walked into work that morning. His hair was mussed, his tie hung loosely around his neck, and his face was flushed a deep, telltale crimson. He cracked the door just an inch, glancing out into the hallway before slipping out into the light.
A few minutes later, you emerged from the supply closet, walking with a slight, unsteady wobble in your gait. As you approached his cubicle, you saw him sitting perfectly still, staring at a spreadsheet, though the smug, lopsided grin playing on his lips told a completely different story.
As you approached the cubicle, you caught the eye of a coworker passing by. Instantly, the predatory heat in Lars's gaze vanished. He blinked, his shoulders dropping into a relaxed, unassuming slouch as he suddenly became the picture of professional focus. The dark, commanding man from the closet was gone, replaced by the quiet, slightly awkward Lars everyone knew.
He adjusted his hair and stared intently at his monitor, his expression becoming neutral, almost studious. The only giveaway was the way his tie sat slightly crooked and the faint, lingering flush on his cheekbones that no amount of office lighting could mask.
"Oh, hey," he said, his voice regaining that gentle, soft-spoken quality as he looked up at you, offering a small, polite smile that felt entirely too innocent. "Did you... did you find everything okay? I'm sorry, I was just finishing up this report."
The mask was perfect. But as your eyes met his for a split second, you saw that tiny, wicked glint in his eyes a silent, smug promise of what was coming when the office lights finally went out.
Authors note: this is so bad I’m sorryyyeehehhh let me know if you want to be added to the tag list
Dennis is convinced that the second day of his emergency medicine rotation can't be any worse than his first; then Dr. Robby evicts him from his work station again and, upon standing, Dennis realises that he's bled through onto the soft fabric seat of his chair. Eyes wide with horror, he looks at the little dark stain, then up at Robby, who has definitely seen the stain as well.
"D-Doctor Robby, I-I—" Dennis uselessly stutters. He shoves his hands behind him, hopefully covering the mess on the back of his scrub bottoms. "I will, uh, I will—"
Robby casts a look around the bustling emergency department and loudly announces, "It is hot in here." Then, he peels his blue hoodie from his arms and drapes it across the seat of the chair, covering the stain. When his eyes land on Dennis, he says, "Why are we just standing around, Whitaker? Come with me."
Dennis tenses as Robby clamps his big hands down on his shoulders and wheels him away from the hub. The touching seems to be a regular habit with him, but the close way Robby walks behind him is new. It strikes Dennis that he is using his body to hide his leak. Dennis' insides are cramping, his back feels all sweaty, and—great—now his eyes are stinging too.
Robby takes him outside. Speaking lowly, he asks, "You use the decontamination shower yesterday?"
"No?"
"Didn't think so. It's just a big wet room, basically. Get cleaned up. I'll bring you new scrubs."
Dennis feels himself pale. "Is it that bad?" How long has he been walking around with a big bloody patch on the back of his scrubs, not realising that he's been leaking through his pad?
Robby turns him around so that he can hold his shoulders while looking at him face on. "Hey, it happens. There's menstrual products in the break room first aid cupboard. You want a pad or a tampon?"
Now Dennis feels himself flush. "Pad, please."
Robby nods. "There's period underwear there too. I'll bring you a pair. You okay, Whitaker? Can you keep your head in the game today?"
Against his better judgement, he says, "Yeah." He's focused through the pain of his cramps thus far, but how can he push this conversation about period products with his boss to the back of his mind?
"What about the chair?" He asks suddenly. "I can—I can clean it up later if you put it aside."
Robby smiles at him in a sort of quizzical manner. "I am not letting you clean a chair when there's patients to be seen, Whitaker."
"I meant after!"
"Still," Robby chuckles, "I'm not letting you. There's plenty of spares. And one of the few positives about working in an emergency department is that no one is ever surprised to find blood anywhere." He claps Dennis' shoulder and concludes, "Wash up, and I'll be back in fifteen minutes." Then he's off again, the same way he whirls away from patients and onto the next challenge.
Dennis keeps the door cracked open so he can watch him go. Then, once he is gone, he shuts it, and he strips. The dark brown stain on the back of his scrubs is mortifying, but not nearly as awful as the fact that his boss is actively fetching him a pad.
Dennis can't wait until this day is over. Surely tomorrow—his third day in the Pitt—can't be as bad as the first two, right?
tags: fem!reader, fluff and smut, short!reader kinda implied but i headcanon lars as like 6'4 so any height below that works lmao, manhandling but affectionate, size kink obviously, blowjobs, dry-humping, belly bulge
SFW
even before he realizes he has a size kink, lars is so sweet and protective, and he always keeps an arm around you or your hand in his when you're out together in public
and then one day he notices how small you look next to him. his hand pretty much covers yours when he holds it, and you fit right in his strong arms so well
you fall asleep on the couch one night and when he goes to carry you to bed he realizes he can lift you like it's nothing and it just…unlocks something for him.
lars knows he's taller than most people, including you, but the realization that he can manhandle you so easily is a revelation
so of course he starts doing it more often
you need something off a high shelf? instead of just reaching up and getting it for you like he always does, he'll hold your waist and lift you up so you can reach it
when you lightly scold him ("lars, put me down! you're gonna hurt yourself!") he just shrugs it off, telling you it's not hard to pick you up
he even does it in his sleep, scooping you up and pulling you closer like you're his teddy bear :')
lars really loves casual intimacy, so when you wear his sweaters and they're big on you with sleeves that come down over your hands, or when he hugs you and can rest his chin on the top of your head, he's absolutely over the moon <3
NSFW under the cut!
it's not just that Lars is tall and strong, though.
because that man is packing.
nine inches, thick like a coke can, and because he doesn't have much of a frame of reference, he has no idea how big he is
the first time you touch him, it's over his clothes and he's only half-hard, so he's briefly terrified when he sees your eyes go wide at the feel of him
you didn't think you'd have to explain to your boyfriend that he has a massive dick, but once you do, his face goes pink and he looks ever-so-slightly proud of himself
you take things slow – touch isn't painful most of the time since he started exposure therapy, but he still gets overwhelmed easily, and he's the type to want to take things slowly regardless
but lars is absolutely obsessed with having his hands on you. they look so big wrapped around your waist, grabbing your thighs, cupping your face as he kisses you.
he's just so honored and so in awe that you trust him enough to let him hold you like this, to let him pick you up and maneuver you (gently, of course) to where he wants you.
he loves picking you up and putting you on his lap, positioning you over one of his thick thighs so you can dry-hump him while he kisses you senseless <3
and the look on your face when you feel how hard he is for you, when you can feel how big he is, even through his clothes? oh, lars can't get enough of it
when lars finally gets brave enough to let you see him naked and touch him without fabric in the way, he cums so fast at the sight of you with your lips around the first few inches of his cock, straining your jaw to take in more, both hands wrapped around what you can't fit in your mouth <3
at one point he rests his cock against your lower belly to see just how deep inside you he'll be when the time comes and he has to squeeze his eyes shut tight to keep from finishing right then and there
he's so worried and so turned on at the idea of you struggling on his massive dick. he doesn't want to hurt you, and he never would, but the thought of you slowly taking him in, panting and gasping at the stretch, drives him absolutely crazy
and when you finally do have sex, he's absolutely amazed when you can take him. it's definitely a lot, and your cunt is squeezing him so hard that he's trembling from the effort not to move, but he talks you through it so sweetly
"there you go, you're doing so well. i'm so proud of you, lovey. am i hurting you? do you feel okay?"
you have to tell him it's okay to move once he's fully inside
poor lars is so overwhelmed and so nervous about hurting you, and you're so tight around him that he almost can't move, but eventually he manages to give you one single, cautious thrust
and when your eyes flutter shut and you moan, that's all the encouragement he needs
he's just in awe of the way he disappears inside you
and he's obsessed with the tiny bulge in your lower belly that appears when he's all the way in. he can't take his eyes off of it as he fucks you, moving so carefully so he won't hurt you, his big hands gently holding your hips, keeping you in place
he presses his whole body weight into you when he's close, holding you so tight and so close, pressing you hard into the mattress
and he's whimpering praise into your ear the entire time <3
"oh– oh gosh, oh, sweetheart, you're so– so good to me, i c-can't – you just t-take me so well, i can't hold it, i need to...oh, god, baby, i need to cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease–"
the second you give him permission, he lets go, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sobbing as he pumps you full
and afterwards he lays on your chest, and the weight of him is so comforting and so warm and you're both so happy as you fall asleep in each others' arms <3
author's note: thank you so so much for reading! also PLEASEEE send me lars requests i'm going absolutely insane about that man <3
comment if you enjoyed! love you all, and tysm for the response on the holland fic!!! i'm so overwhelmed with how sweet you've all been <3 :')
𝜗𝜚 Summary: Lars takes his phone to work every day to send you sweet text messages, but today, he's using it to control the vibrator he slipped into your underwear this morning before he left...
𝜗𝜚 Notes: written as part of a little event on the Goose Pen server - there are and will be more Goose with a remote control vibrator fics from these wonderful writers too! @rentsturner @grnherbs @stxrrrdusttt @regalfirebird @iktheend @lindstrms screencap from the wonderful @rygos-screencaps
𝜗𝜚 Content: nsfw, remote control vibrator, semi-public (Lars is at work with a big ol' boner), abuse of the app (by Kurt), phone sex, mentions of sex and blow jobs, not beta read so please forgive any errors, fuck work/fuck Lars (two very different sides of the same coin)
Lars sets his phone down on the desk and, without taking his eyes off it, switches on his computer.
The phone’s lit up with the app open, just as it has been since he swerved haphazardly into his usual parking spot and switched off the engine without caring to straighten up.
He hadn’t even heard Cindy’s usual cheery greeting as he passed through the lobby earlier, either, completely consumed with his finger hovering over the buttons on the screen.
Cindy shook her head with a gentle laugh, ‘Can’t keep those two away from each other even at work. So sweet.’
But Cindy wasn’t quite right about that – Lars wasn’t sending you a cute good morning text like he usually did as he meandered into work.
‘Lars, buddy, it’s your turn for coffee today.’ Kurt drawls from the next desk over. ‘Lars? Hello?’
‘Oh- yeah? Sorry I was-’
Kurt turns to see what’s got Lars so distracted and immediately clocks the app, the love heart dial in the centre pulsing enticingly as it waits to be toyed with. Much like Lars was imagining you were right now.
‘Oh! I know what that is,’ Kurt exclaims, ‘don’t mind if I do-’
Never seeming to miss a beat when it comes to Lars’s personal life, Kurt was of course immediately all over the phone, swiping it from the desk and jabbing at the settings with a careless, haphazard finger.
Not the sort of treatment Lars would ever subject you to. His blood boils instantly.
‘Kurt! Stop!’ Lars tries, reaching to grab the phone. It’s futile and he feels kind of silly, but aside from Kurt abusing the settings and therefore you, he wants to be the first one to use it.
‘Trouble in the bedroom, huh?’ Kurt teases, ‘Had to employ the old vibrator to get things moving?’
‘No!’ Lars protests, puffing out his chest, ‘We have a very full and healthy-’ he clears his throat, conscious that he’s a work, and lowers his voice before finishing his sentence, ‘sex life.’
Kurt unceremoniously tosses the phone screen-down back onto Lars’s desk with a clatter before sliding back to his chair.
‘Well, that oughta get things going,’ he chuckles, slipping on his headphones to drown out Lars’s inevitable response.
Lars frowns, his body feeling hot and tense, but swallows down his irritation at Kurt’s little stunt.
It doesn’t matter what Kurt thinks, because Lars knows the truth. He knows he goes to bed with you every night and thoroughly satisfies you before you sleep. He knows that he’s never craved touch, or sex, this much in his life and that the urges are completely sated with you each time he has them. And that’s exactly why you ordered the vibrator, so you could stay connected while he was at work, because what Kurt doesn’t understand is that you and Lars can’t keep your hands off one another.
He takes a deep breath to steady himself before picking up the phone to see the damage.
Wincing, he turns it over to see that the vibrator he’d slipped into your underwear this morning had been turned from Off to the highest, fastest setting.
‘Oh no! No, no, no-’
He smashes the Off button like his life depends on it, shooting Kurt a look like thunder before picking up his desk phone and dialling your number.
‘Hey, it’s me,’ he coos quietly into the receiver.
‘Lars,’ you pant, voice ragged, ‘what uh- that was-’
‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispers, shutting his eyes tight as he considers how to explain it.
He shoots a look over his shoulder at Kurt, who is now completely in his own world, air drumming with a pen and pencil to whatever racket is pumping through his headphones. If he tells you Kurt switched it on, he’s sure that won’t only ruin the mood for you, but it will ruin it for him too, so he makes something up.
‘I uh… I dropped my phone. Are you okay?’
‘Yeah… yeah I’m okay, but that was kinda intense.’
‘Oh? Okay, well…’ Lars slides his phone closer and presses on the dial, setting the vibrator to the lowest speed. ‘How’s that feel?’
His voice is all low and husky now. You smile, knowing that just hearing you on the phone has given him the confidence he needed to start using the controls.
‘That feels… mmh, pretty good…’
It’s nestled right against your clit, buzzing slowly and gently.
‘Yeah?’ he asks, ‘How about… if I do this?’
Lars turns it up a little, and you moan at the change. Your reaction is so loud, he quickly slaps a hand over his mouth and holds the receiver to his chest and looks around, but no one he can see from his office cubicle has batted an eyelid. He can hear the faint office chatter and hum of computers and screech of the xerox machine continue on as normal in the background, so his shoulders drop.
‘Good?’ he asks.
‘So good… still not as good as you, though, baby,’ you whine. ‘When will you be home?’
Lars bites his lips together, feeling the way his trousers tighten at the sound of you whining and begging for him. He feels feral at the idea that he’s doing this to you, but it’s still not enough for you without him actually being there.
‘Do you want more?’ he asks, smirking to himself.
‘I want you, Lars,’ you moan, and he turns it up another notch.
‘Lar- Lars- gonna make me- c-c- ohhmmnnn-’
‘You gonna come?’ he breathes heavily, trying to keep his voice as low as he can, which is doing nothing to put out the blaze between your legs.
He turns it up again – a slightly stronger vibration and a more persistent rhythm, and listens to you completely unravel down the phone; your breath rapidly falling uneven as you gasp and pant, and a muffled sound of bedsheets rustling as you writhe on his bed, crying out for him.
Lars is dizzy, knuckles white where he grips onto his desk, and as he listens to your panting quieten, he shakes his head, remembering himself and lowering the vibrator until it’s completely off.
He’s so hard it’s unbearable, but for now he’s hidden under his desk, and he’s on the phone. No one would bother him while he’s clearly on an important call.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks, a pang of guilt in his stomach that he’s not there with you, holding and kissing you as you recover, the way he likes to. ‘I’m gonna take an early lunch, okay? I’ll be with you soon – a couple of hours… can you wait that long for me?’
‘Mmh, need you Lars,’ you groan, still dazed from the intensity, and from knowing he was doing this to you from his work. You wonder if he’s turned on, red and embarrassed and stuck with a tent in his pants beneath his desk, and bite your lip at the thought.
‘Okay,’ he whispers darkly, like he’s plotting something far more dangerous, ‘I’ll try and sneak out earlier… do you feel ready for another round until I can get there?’
‘Mmhmm,’ you agree, feeling the instant gentle buzz start back up. You jolt, still sensitive from your high, but quickly ease into it.
‘I’m gonna get off the phone so I can really focus okay? I’ll be with you soon.’
‘Okay… bye Lars, and please hurry, I’m so wet for you,’ you coo, knowing what it’ll do to him.
‘I- I will, I’ll be- oh- I’ll be as fast as I c-can,’ he stutters.
He drops the receiver back into place and carefully grabs a file from the shelf above his desk, surreptitiously sliding it over his middle to hide his arousal as he stands, slipping his phone into his pocket.
Kurt turns and lifts one side of his headphones. ‘Remember it’s your turn for coffee, buddy,’ he reminds Lars, smirking. He knows, but Lars is too far into this to notice.
‘Mmhmm, coming up,’ he says absently, hurrying off to the bathrooms with the file clutched awkwardly over his aching cock.
There’s no one in the bathroom when he sneaks in, so he locks himself in a stall, drops the file, takes a steadying breath, and pulls his phone out of his pocket.
Sweat coats his forehead as he stares down at the app, the low setting going steady, and wonders how long you could stand that, how pent up you might get if he was to just leave it that way until he gets home and watches you come undone with the vibrator under his control.
He checks the time at the top of the screen. It’s only 10am. He’d come in late, and had been here for half an hour, and he was trapped in the bathroom with what feels like the hardest dick he thinks he’s ever experienced, red faced, sweat pouring down his face now, hair a mess, a wet spot on the front of his pants…
‘Fuck it,’ he mutters.
It’s unlike him to let out such a casual profanity (except for when you’re riding him or sucking his soul out of his cock, but he thinks given the circumstances he can be excused for those times). But then, this whole situation is unlike him. You’ve unlocked thoughts and feelings in him that he’d never before experienced and the scariest part was how much he liked it.
He slips the phone back into his pocket and collects the file, heading straight out without a word to anyone, even Cindy who just watches him march out holding the file, with a curious frown, but doesn’t bother to ask.
Lars usually rushed home to you, but today, you hear the rubber of his tires screech on the gravel outside.
It’s rare that the two of you fight—and in fact, you don’t think it actually happened before.
There have been misunderstandings, sure. They usually don’t last for more than an hour or so. With Lars, it’s easy to explain yourself and be understood without any unnecessary strict questioning from him. He will go through lengths just to make sure you won’t ever feel invalidated or wrong for feeling the way you felt, and you do the same for him.
However, this time it’s a bit different.
You have a feeling that it has something to do with jealousy, but at this point you’re not actually sure. Lars is not an easy person to read unlike you. It’s hard to assume his thoughts because he rarely speaks his mind to begin with. Even more so when he’s upset like this.
It’s been three days.
Lars has been giving you the cold shoulders for three days. And you have no idea what to do because this has never happened before.
You wouldn’t say he’s being cruel. He’s not upset enough to not answer your most basic questions. Not upset enough to not cook you breakfast as well as pack your lunches. Not upset enough to ignore you completely.
But he is upset. You know that because you don’t feel him kissing you back when you give him a peck. He doesn’t initiate cuddles anymore when it’s time to sleep. And he doesn’t place his hand on your thigh anymore when he drives.
You asked him about it. You asked him way too many times that you lost count. But all Lars ever says to you is an upsetting “it’ll pass” without even acknowledging the problem in hand.
He’s stubborn. But you can’t bring yourself to get angry at him because there’s a reason why he’s this way. And you admit that there might be some fault in yourself too.
But for the record, you did apologize. Assuming you apologized for the thing he’s mad about, which until now you’re still not sure if it’s even the right one you’re apologizing for.
“If this is about the stupid dinner party, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it.” That’s what you said yesterday when you were getting sick of the silence he’s giving you. “I just didn’t think it was important. And it wasn’t like I was out for a long time. It was only for a few hours.”
It was true. You didn’t tell him about the dinner party after your work because it just never occurred to you that it would be important. Well, you did tell him. But it was the last minute when you saw his car parked outside your building waiting for your arrival.
“I’m sorry, babe. We have this dinner after work and I won’t be home until later. If you’re still up, maybe you can pick me up? It’s okay if not. I’ll just call a taxi and I’ll be home in no time.”
The tick on his jaw was enough to tell you what he felt about it. And for a moment, you were surprised by the reaction. Because you really expected he would take it as a no brainer and send you on your merry way. But alas.
“Uh… couldn’t you have said it a little earlier, baby? Give me a heads-up?” Lars asked you quietly.
“I know, I'm sorry,” you sighed, hoping that would mend it all. “But it’ll be a breeze, alright? It’s just a quick dinner. I’ll just call you once we’re done. Okay?”
He didn’t give you the same smile you were giving him. In fact, that was the pissed he’s ever looked. And if you hadn’t already said yes to the dinner, you would’ve hopped your ass inside the car and went home with him. But you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your colleagues after you promised them that you’d have a few drinks.
Knowing Lars, he probably knew what you felt and didn’t want to embarrass you either. So he took one look at your colleagues behind you, then he paused to glare sharply at the tallest man amongst them.
“I’ll be awake. Just call me and I’ll pick you up.”
And he did.
You were tipsy by the end of the night. You didn’t quite remember most of what happened. But you remember Lars picking you up. You remember him taking you away from Matt’s guiding arm on your shoulders. You remember hearing briefly from their short encounter, how your boyfriend straightened up his posture for the first time in a while and towered over every one of your colleagues, how Lars sounded monotone and pissed as he stared Matt down.
“I’ll take her from here. You can get your hands off her now.”
You weren’t stupid. You knew he was jealous. And when you confronted him about it two days ago when you tried to apologize, Lars made it clear that it wasn’t because he was insecure.
“Then what is it?” you asked him again, patience almost wearing thin. Because you never would’ve guessed that he would be so stubborn over something like this. But then Lars was turning himself around on the bed to show you his back instead. And that was the only answer you ever got from him.
You admit the fault is yours. You admit that you were wrong. You know now that you probably made him feel awful by not telling him about the dinner. But at the same time, do you really deserve to be treated like this?
Lars keeps his back turned on you when you sleep. He gives you the driest responses to your questions and your attempts to make conversations. He doesn’t even join you in the shower anymore. And he’s not even touching you now—not even to just hold your hands or wrap his arm around your shoulders. It’s genuinely driving you mad.
“Lars.”
You want to sob. You feel pathetic, begging for a crumb of attention from your boyfriend who won’t even take his eyes off the TV despite you crawling on his lap.
“Lars, talk to me please,” you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and purposely getting in the way of his TV show to make him look at you. But Lars just moves his head to the side instead.
Still, you don’t let that get to you. You have the urge to cry your eyes out—and you feel it coming soon, but still, you want to know just how far he’s willing to push this whole thing to punish you for your mistake.
You nuzzle your nose on his cheek like a cat as you tighten your arms around his neck. You pull him closer to your chest as you travel your nose to the back of his ear and the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Lars, please talk to me again,” you beg, pathetically so. You feel the sob in the back of your throat. And when you pull away to look at his face, he’s still not looking at you. “Lars. Baby. I don’t—I don’t know what I should do. You’re not talking to me. I want to make it up to you but you’re not talking to me. I said I was sorry and you didn’t even acknowledge me. I don’t know what I should do to make you—”
Lars shuts you up by shoving two thick fingers into your mouth.
“You know how to make me feel better,” he says, in that same kind and quiet voice that you missed hearing. But you know what he means.
You give his fingers a suck before you pull them away to drop on your knees between his legs. This isn’t really what you were aiming for when you crawled onto his lap. You want to hear him say that you’re forgiven, that everything is okay, that he doesn’t love you any less. But nevertheless, arguing with him would do you no good.
So you begin nuzzling your nose on his crotch to feel his thick member underneath the fabric. Even if he’s soft, you can still feel the weight of it on your cheek. Even if it’s soft, the sheer size of it still makes you a little afraid. You can only be thankful that Lars has always been kind enough to not force it into you all at once.
You look up at him with teary eyes as you bring a hand up to gently palm him through his pants.
“Will you still be mad after this?”
Again, he doesn’t answer you. And instead of expecting one, you pull down his pants instead and get to work. At least you’ll know he’ll feel just a tiny bit better once this is done.
He’s not hard at all. It’s laying against his thigh soft and thick, so you spit on the base and let it dribble slowly over the skin. Then you finally wrap your lips around the fat tip to get to sucking.
It feels heavy in your mouth. When you try to sneak your hand inside his sweater to feel him, Lars grabs your wrist and pulls you away. Instead, he brings your hand down to his balls where you immediately play with them between your fingers.
It’s not long before he starts making noises. He’s never been quiet in times like this. He doesn’t like talking a lot, but he’s not embarrassed to groan and moan in your ears when he’s fucking you into the bed—and he encourages you to do the same. When you muffle your moans with pillows, he’ll get annoyed and snatch it away.
You bob your head up and down messily on his cock. You’re drooling all over it and it’s dribbling down his pubic hair and balls. And by this point, it’s already hot and hard on your tongue. It’s hard as a fucking rock and the veins are bulging deliciously—they’re thick and throbbing, he can never fully control himself around you.
You’ve never really liked giving him blowjobs because you can’t fit everything in your mouth. It makes your jaw sore and you always complain. Lars also doesn’t force you, he just lets you do it when you want to—except now, of course. You suppose this will really make him feel better.
“Good girl,” you hear him whisper, and immediately, you preen. You’re motivated to shove more inches into your throat, but when the thick mushroom head hits home, you pull away immediately to retch. “Don’t stop, baby. Come on.”
Lars fists your hair and pushes your head back down on his dick. You don’t even have a second to recover. You wrap your hands around the area you can’t fit into your mouth, and you bob your head aggressively to finally push him to the edge. You don’t want to spend another minute with his huge cock violating your throat like this. But you’re not going to tell him that. You want him to feel better and forgive you.
So you breathe through your nose, ignore the tears in your eyes, and you suck harder. It’s getting messier now—more spit, slippery, and the scent is thicker. The messier it gets, the louder Lars is getting.
“Baby, baby,” he whispers, voice slightly shaking and you can feel his legs trembling. “Baby, you’re doing so good. I’m gonna—oh, I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna cum in your throat—”
He does. You feel him shooting down your throat. It’s so much that you cough unexpectedly, and Lars hisses loudly, his hand tightening around your hair. There’s cum quite literally exploding out of your mouth, and when you finally pull away, you almost vomit.
“Shh, shh, hey,” Lars says, immediately sitting up to tend to you between his legs. He uses the sleeve of his sweater to wipe away the gunk on your mouth and lips, all while softly petting your hair like a dog. “So proud of you, baby. Let it all out.”
Your lips quiver.
Is he feeling better now? Is he no longer mad at you? You can’t tell. But at least he’s proud of you.
“Are you—” you whimper, and you don’t even realize the tears gathering in your eyes until now. “Are you not a-angry anymore?”
“I was never angry,” Lars says quietly, wiping the snot that’s dripping out of your nose. “Just wanted to teach you a lesson. It doesn’t feel good when your partner doesn’t tell you anything at all. Does it?”
“No,” you shake your head with a sob, and you push his arm away to cling to his leg like a cat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Lars, I’ll—I’ll tell you everything now. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Lars whispers, and you can hear the smile on his face. “You’ve been a good girl, baby. Don’t ever do that again, mhm?”
a/n: i might have made him a little meaner but boohoo tomato tohmato lars deserves to be a little mean every now and then
