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
a scene in my upcoming jacob fic where he surprises you in the mall to pick you up while you were with a friend. she whispered “i didn’t know your dad was so handsome!” and before you can save yourself and say he’s not your dad, she’s already going to leave you with him.
jacob hears it all and greets you with a smirk as you approach. “well, i guess it’s not really that far off. you do call me daddy more than your own dad. and i do treat you better than him, don’t i?”
if anybody! any author! someone! what do you guys think rygos characters will be if reader has the one wish willow and wished for the rygos charcter to love them more than anyone in the entire world (am i crazy? also idk whom to ask so im just gonna post it in hopes of getting picked up)
i’m going to use hcs from my upcoming henry fic. and i know a lot of people are going to be like “but that’s mischaracterizing him” and i don’t really care so here goes nothing.
stalker henry is the youngest child of a well-known wealthy family. he’s the black sheep; he’s not ambitious like his oldest brother, not as materialistic as his sister, and definitely not as pretentious as his other older brother is trying to be. henry has no role in his family other than a punchline of a joke at expensive galas or be the prime example of what a letham son should not be.
stalker henry gets dragged in pompous affairs against his will. and while he has the choice to stay home and continue painting instead, he never declines given that he’s been stuck in an art block for almost a year. henry always gave these functions a benefit of the doubt. that maybe attending them would strike a motivation within him and get him back to his zone. but to his dismay, none of them ever does.
stalker henry who attends a ballet show where he meets you. the prime ballerina who leads the ensemble of dancers as they curl into formation with pure grace. you wear a striking black dress that resembles a black swan, but your face lacks even just a tiny shred of malice the role demanded.
stalker henry who has the opportunity to meet you backstage after the show since his father knows your sponsor. a man in his sixties who looks way too comfortable touching your back in front of many people.
stalker henry who immediately memorizes every detail of your face down to the intricate patterns of your bodice upon introducing himself. it hasn’t even been 20 minutes after the performance. he can still see the thin layer of sweat forming on your glittered forehead and under your eyes.
stalker henry who finished 5 art works within the span of 2 days, all consisting of the pretty girl who caught his attention a few nights ago. all of you in different dancing positions, in different kinds of dresses, but henry finds that he really enjoys painting you in red.
stalker henry who decides that solely painting you based on his memory isn’t enough. so he seeks for you all by himself instead, where he finds out that you’re a ballet instructor to little kids in a small dance studio downtown. and it’s a good thing he has his own condo near your dance studio where he decides he’ll be staying after knowing your whereabouts.
stalker henry who finally moves out of his family’s home. something his siblings had been waiting for him to do for years. and he spends 90% of his time in the cafe right across the studio, where he has the perfect view of you teaching the little dancers how to twirl and jump and do miracles in the air.
stalker henry who follows you home every night, keeping a relatively safe distance behind you and only using a cap to disguise. from what he observed, you don’t really have that much awareness around you to begin with. so even if henry’s been stalking behind you every night for the past three weeks, you have no idea. you don’t even notice it. not even a little bit of suspicion.
stalker henry who saves you from being mugged in the middle of the night after your night out with friends. if you never intervened, he probably would’ve ended up curb stomping the man on the ground and finding himself in a police station. but you did. and that’s why you’re his savior, who even offers him to come by your apartment so you can patch up his bruised knuckles.
stalker henry who already knows the way to your apartment anyway but acts like he doesn’t when you’re leading the way.
stalker henry who realizes you don’t remember him from the show at all. you never once utter the words “i know you” or “you seem familiar.” you’re genuinely acting like this is your first time meeting him as you clean his bloodied knuckles while you kneel on the floor.
stalker henry who doesn’t waste a second to ask you out when it’s time to go. and you, being completely starstrucked after being saved, agrees without a second thought.
stalker henry who, upon having you as his girlfriend, immediately starts controlling every little thing in your life because he only wants what’s good for you. your choice of friends, the time you leave home and come back, the people you talk to on social media, and even starts questioning your career.
“he’s my sponsor. i wouldn’t be able to perform on stage if it wasn’t for him.”
“he’s a creep. and you’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let him continue touching you like that again.”
“there’s nothing we can do, okay? i just… want you to behave for this one dinner. he asked to meet you and i can’t just say no. i mean—this is the same man who’s been keeping me from having a boyfriend since the beginning. so maybe he wouldn’t mind this time?”
henry just scoffs.
stalker henry who tries to keep you inside your shared home for as long as possible. when you have plans, he’ll talk you out of it. when you insist that you have to go to work, he’ll come with you, sit there on the corner and watch you teach the kids.
stalker henry who doesn’t even try to act surprised when you deliver the message that your sponsor suddenly died in an awful car crash. and he doesn’t even waste a single time before he offers to be your sponsor instead, because really, nobody else will be the perfect fit for it other than him.
sugar daddy jacob who met you on a random dating app because he was bored one night. jacob wasn’t really the type to participate in online dating. he believes that his charm is twice as compelling when the person he’s trying to woo is right in front of him. nevertheless, he gave in one friday night because he was in dire need of entertainment.
sugar daddy jacob who, after hours of swiping only left and very little right, came across a profile that drew his attention. all of the pictures were with your cat, with silly thick rimmed glasses over your eyes. everything about you screamed “nerd.” and jacob wasn’t known to be attracted to nerds. especially those who look way too younger than him.
even so, you were cute. way too cute. and from the pictures alone, it almost seemed like you were resembling more like the cat you were holding in jacob’s eyes. and he’s always had a soft spot for cute things like you.
sugar daddy jacob who wasn’t expecting the two of you to match immediately when he swiped right. but didn’t waste a second to start the first conversation. he immediately went with the “hey, beautiful” that he knows works with everyone. and it’s easy enough when he has the best pictures of himself in his profile. everyone will get what they expect. obviously. he’s not a fraud.
sugar daddy jacob who was immediately hooked by your pleasing personality. you were clearly the shy type as expected. you didn’t know how to respond to his flirty messages, but you tried. it was also very clear that you’ve probably never done this before. or maybe if you have, you haven’t done this a lot.
sugar daddy jacob who was confused at first as to why you were so gullible, but eventually took advantage of it because it served him a better purpose. you were always quick to send him pictures if he asked. even the naughty ones whenever the conversation will get a little heated.
that’s the cutest pair of panties i’ve ever seen in my life.
thanks! i have like 6 of these
would you mind sliding them off so i can see what’s underneath?
okay! but u have to send something in return bc this is like my 10th nudes and u haven’t even showed me urs
that’s not for you to decide, baby.
sugar daddy jacob who spoils you with everything else instead of actually showing you his dick. not because he’s insecure. but he just likes this little power play between the two of you. that you’re always so eager to please him no matter how hesitant you get. and that you know you have no say whether or not he participates with the whole sending nudes thing.
after getting your address, jacob would send a bunch of shit without ever telling you first. at first, they were all relatively innocent; that one action figure you’ve been dying to get your hands on, the textbooks you’ve been saying up for, the limited edition hardcover of the fantasy book that you really love. until the gifts turn into lingeries, vibrators, a small dildo to stretch yourself out, and a buttplug that you’re still scared to touch. he’s also not scared to send you a thousand bucks if you promise to send videos of you playing with your clit with the vibrating rose toy that he gave you.
sugar daddy jacob who finally set up a meeting because he couldn’t take it anymore. but he wasn’t the kind of gentleman who would take you out for dinner first, no. jacob drove to your address himself to pick you up after a business trip abroad, and he skipped all the “get to know each other” part because his dick was throbbing painfully in his pants that he could feel your eyes bashfully taking secret glances to it.
“i would offer you to touch it but i don’t want us to crash.”
“it’s just… a bit weird now. i’ve never seen it before so i didn’t know it’s that big.”
jacob can’t help but let out a scoff. he’s heard that so many times before. he’s never going to get sick of it.
sugar daddy jacob who didn’t waste his time shredding off your clothes and throwing you on his ridiculously huge bed. meanwhile, he stayed very much fully clothed and enjoyed the lewd contrast between the two of you. him covered up, you all bear and naked and cold underneath him.
he shamefully let his large hands squeeze your soft breasts, while his knee was slotted in between your legs and ordered you to grind your cunt against his clothed thigh.
sugar daddy jacob who secretly took out his phone when he made you flip over on your stomach to present yourself. he filmed the way you arch your back, the way you pressed your perfect ass right on his cock that was bursting through his pants, the way your cunt lips opened up and the way your asshole peaked out in between your cheeks when you spread your legs a little wider.
and when you looked back, you were horrified to see him with his phone out.
“jacob! you didn’t say anything about filming!”
“would you mind indulging me tonight, baby? haven’t i been treating you like a princess all month long? time to pay daddy back. don’t worry, i won’t share it to anyone. you have my word for it.”
sugar daddy jacob who took his condom off mid-fuck and shoved your dirty panties in your mouth when you tried to argue. he said something about “i’ll take care of you and our baby if i get you pregnant, princess. but for now, let me fuck it raw” while pistoning his hips and ramming his cock so far inside you, his belt slamming against your hips and leaving marks.
sugar daddy jacob who made you wear your glasses back again when he was just about to come. and he crawled on top of you to hold your head in place while he fucked his fist vigorously. “open your mouth, stick out your tongue,” he said, and when you do, jacob groaned so loudly as he painted your lenses with thick white ribbons, his hand still a blur on his crotch as he milked himself dry.
sugar daddy jacob who took pictures of you covered with his come. and he didn’t even let you clean yourself before he’s flipping you in a different position and doing it all over again.
a/n: for that one anon who wants icky jacob hcs. not sure if these are THAT icky but i cant stop thinking about sugar daddy jacob and i apologize. hes eating my brain
He knows it’s probably weird, even if he says his intentions are not inherently sexual. But he’s obsessed, and he’s really glad you’re never taking it the wrong way.
Because Lars is absolutely obsessed with your pussy.
Again, most of the time, it’s not inherently sexual. Lars just loves to spoon you when you two are about to sleep, and it’s becoming a routine that he’d slip his hand inside your pajama pants to cup your fat mound and give it a few squeezes.
When you’re unshaven, Lars adores the fuzz of your hair and he entertains himself by brushing his fingers through the short strands. It can be when he’s cuddling you on the couch while you two are watching a movie. And you won’t even question it, just willingly spread your legs a little wider to make space for his bear-like hand.
When you’re shaven or waxed, Lars would flick either your mound or your cunt lips and feel them jiggle under his fingers. But you always complain that his hand is cold and he would feel you shiver next to him.
You would be making them breakfast or dinner, and Lars would come up behind you to grope your pussy over your shorts, all while leaning down to bury his nose in your hair.
“Lars,” you say quietly. “Not right now. You’re going to be late for work.”
“It’s alright. Just want to touch you.”
“Alright. But you have to get ready soon because I’m almost done with breakfast.”
“Hm.”
Lars struggles to pull his hand away.
Because he’s really quite obsessed with your pussy, because it’s fat.
During sex, he spends the most time eating you out or playing with your pussy. He loves making out with your fat lips, he loves smearing your cunt with his spit, until it’s dribbling down his chin and on your ass. He loves bringing his nose down until all he can smell is you.
Lars would spit on it, slap it sharply, until it’s all sore and sensitive. And he would make you lick the slick that clings on his palm while apologizing for being so mean.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to spank her like that. I just couldn’t help it. She’s so cute. Look– there it is… look how wet she is. So sticky and so wet. How do you expect me to resist?”
pervy professor ryland who physically can’t rip his eyes off the jeans that hugs your ass perfectly every time you walk past his desk. it’s just so well rounded and perky, and it jiggles softly underneath the rough fabric that makes his eyes twitch a little underneath his glasses. he’s certain you’re not doing it on purpose judging by the fact that you don’t even have a clue that half of the football team is doing the same. ryland truly isn’t any better.
pervy professor ryland who blatantly flirts with you when you’re reaching out about a paper he assigned. shamelessly staring at your cleavage when you’re wearing something that hangs low on the neck. it doesn’t help the fact that you have such perfect tits that’ll fit well in his hands. he daydreams about squeezing them in his palms or burying his face in between your two globes, to sniff the sweat that’s been building up under your breasts and lick them clean with his tongue.
pervy professor ryland who has no qualms telling you to stay after class and say it concerns your grades, when it’s really all about finally asking you out after weeks of beating around the bushes. he’s not stupid. he knows you feel the same way but is just to shy to even fully commit to it. he knows that you know how he looks at you. the lingering lustful stares and every time ryland wets his lips when looking at yours.
“it’s unconventional, but not unheard of,” ryland explains as he leans against his desk with his arms crossed. “this university doesn’t forbid it. but if you’re unsure because of how the people may see it, we can keep it under wraps if that’s what you wish.’
“yeah,” you nod shyly, clutching your bag beside you out of nervousness. ryland can see the thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead, and the way you refuses to meet his eyes and would rather look at his tie instead. “we can just… keep it under wraps. i want to. but i want to keep it a secret for now.”
ryland smiles, “no problem. i’ll pick you up at 8 then?”
pervy professor ryland who wasted no time on the first date. fingered you in his car while you’re strapped on the passenger seat. the vehicle was parked right outside the restaurant, and he had the seat inclined back and your legs spread while his thick fingers tickled your cunt under your chiffon skirt.
your tiny little hands were gripping his wrist, uncertain whether or not you wanted to push him away or pull him deeper. “oh shit– that’s– oh god, ry, that feels so– oh please… please, make me come–”
“greedy girl,” ryland said, and his eyes wandered out the windows to see the relatively empty streets. even if there were a couple of people walking by, they never noticed them inside the vehicle. his windows were slightly tinted. “you’re lucky i find you so cute.”
he pushed you over the edge by pushing down his thumb on your puffy clit as he curled his fingers deep inside your dripping little pussy, at the same time using his other hand to turn your head to the side to press his lips on yours.
pervy professor ryland who brings your dirty panties to work. and when he’s all alone in his office, he brings it up to his nose and inhales the scent of your cunt while fucking his fist wildly underneath the desk. ryland thinks about you putting all your weight down his face, until he’s grinding your fat pussy lips against his mouth and nose and drinking in all your sweat and slick – oh and in fact, he fucking loves it when you’re sweaty.
pervy professor ryland who doesn’t let you shower when you get back to his apartment after a hot sunny day. ryland would literally bury his face in your neck and armpits, nose and lick every crevice like a hungry man.
“stop that– i’m stinky,” you whine as you try to push his stubborn head away from your armpit. but you know better than anyone else that your whine does nothing but make him throb harder than he already is, so ryland presses his clothed thick cock against your thigh instead.
“i love your stink,” he murmurs. “your little girl stink. i can’t even imagine how good your cunt smells right now. god.”
pervy professor ryland who fucks you stupid in a bathroom on the campus. he has you bent over the dirty stink and keeping your head up to make you look at yourself while he drives his cock deeper over and over inside you. ryland also has your dirty panties shoved in your mouth to keep you from making any loud noises.
pervy professor ryland who makes you kneel on the hard tiled floor to clean off his meaty dick with your mouth. he keeps a tight hold on your messy hair while his other hand holds the wall for support. his glasses are fogging and sliding off his nose. and as much as ryland wants to keep you quiet at times like this, doesn’t mean he has to shut his mouth too.
“you wouldn’t be licking my cock clean right now if your dirty pussy wasn’t so desperate for it earlier,” he coos while he fucks your mouth, groaning quietly when he feels your throat contracting around his girth and your spit dribbling down his balls. “don’t puke. you’ll be cleaning it up with your tongue too.”
a/n: ask me if i care about making ryland grace mean and bad
luke has never fucked a virgin before. not really.
word count: 5.8k
warnings: explicit sexual content, implied age gap, lost of virginity, cunnilingus, size kink, size difference, protected sex (implied unprotected too).
Luke’s job is pretty straightforward. And he’s been doing it for as long as he can remember.
When being a stunt rider for the carnival wasn’t cutting it anymore, he had to find something else to keep himself afloat. For Luke, jobs that required basic thug shit came easy considering the skill set he had. He found out pretty quickly that cracking skulls and busting knees were what he was good at.
But that barely scratches the surface of what he actually does for work. It pays well mostly because he offers his clients a wide variety of assistance. And to put it briefly, Luke provides services with his body, and he gets paid handsomely for it.
Though it generally depends on the work he’s been hired to do. Most of the time it’s the usual bodyguard shit, something he’s more familiar with, but Luke thinks it’s just glorified babysitting. He feels that he should be above looking out for a grown-ass man or woman, but then again, it pays well. And when Luke’s being told to do protection services for a rich man’s wife and she later asks if she could suck his cock for an extra tip is the only fun thing about it.
Which is another thing entirely.
Luke isn’t the one to boast, but he knows he’s hot shit. Because if he’s not, the wives of his clients wouldn’t be throwing themselves at him. And he wasn’t called “Handsome Luke” during his carnival days for nothing.
It started when he was hired to be a bouncer at a club for a week or two. When a dancer tried getting in his pants during his break, Luke decided to give it a little twist.
“Are you paying for it?”
“What?” The woman, who introduced herself as Britney, raised a brow. “Why the hell would I be paying for it?”
“Well, you dance on dudes for money. You’re basically asking me to fuck you during my unpaid break, when I should be resting instead,” Luke reasoned with a smirk on his face. “I figured you’d understand, considering it’s the same principle. Business is business.”
But Luke knew Britney was one of the highest paid dancers in the club. She got the ass and the tits for it. So she really didn’t mind throwing a couple bucks on Luke’s request and rode his dick until she was satisfied.
And while Luke never thought about making the whole sex thing his only source of income, he did get a lot more customers there than his gangster jobs. Usually from old and desperate married women who couldn’t get the treatment they want from their husbands because their dicks no longer work. But Luke always makes sure to mention that there’s an additional fee if they want him to act like he’s their husband too.
But if there are old married women wanting his services, there are also the old men who want to fulfill their little fantasies with their wives. The cuckold ones who want to have their small dick shamed while Luke’s got his own cock deep inside their wife. Luke stopped questioning people’s fantasies a long time ago. And if the guy wants Luke to stick his schwanz inside him too, then that’s another fee they need to be informed about.
This is also a great time to mention that he never fucks raw.
He can’t have little Lukes running around town when he literally fucked almost half the population of it.
Luke could only thank Britney for being his first ever client after she advertised his huge dick around town when they fucked. He doesn’t mind pimping himself out as long as it keeps him from going back to that trailer he used to live in. He doesn’t mind dealing with all sorts of clients if they’re going to fucking pay for it.
What he’s not used to is someone boldly doubting and questioning his skillset in his face.
“Excuse me?” Luke can’t help but ask, barely masking the surprise written across his face. “What did you just say to me?”
The dive bar near his shabby apartment is where he spends his time when he’s bored. Luke watches soccer occasionally, pretending to be interested, but at least it takes his mind off things. They also serve cheap drinks and awesome nachos, and he hooked up with the owner a few times for a round of free alcohol.
So Luke pretty much knows what to expect from this place.
Which is why he’s caught off guard when a young woman approached him and asked if his dick was really huge as they say.
Said young woman certainly didn’t mind repeating the question.
“Is your dick really huge?” You ask again, with that same genuine expression on your face. Luke knows it’s genuine because he’s been asked that question a lot of times, but this is the first time ever that someone looks genuinely… curious. “I really want to know because I don’t want to waste a few bucks. I mean, I’ve been told you give great services but I want like, reassurance first before I actually give you my money.”
Oh.
It’s an inquiry.
“But wait. You’re Luke Glanton, right? Sorry, I should’ve asked first. That was probably very rude.”
“And very weird. You usually don’t go around asking men if their dick is huge. Some of them wouldn’t react as kindly as I did,” Luke grins as he shrugs. “They might take offense.”
“... But you’re Luke Glanton?”
“Depends who’s asking.”
Luke takes his time inspecting you, from head to toe. He thinks you’re not his usual client, so maybe his market is finally expanding? About time. Not that he’s getting sick of fucking older women and occasionally men – but it’s good to have younger ones on the side too.
Actually, you don’t look like his type at all. Luke notes that you’re cute and you look like jailbait, and your sweet perfume isn’t really his type but it works.
Personally, Luke prefers the long legged, confident women. The ones with the dangerous red lipstick and a smirk he’d wipe off their faces with his dick. The women in corporate who didn’t mind throwing money if it meant Luke would get to praise them for being a good girl.
But this works.
“I’m asking for your…” you trail off, and Luke raises a brow. “... services? I thought that was already pretty obvious. You should really improve your customer service.”
“I offer a lot of services, you have to be very specific.”
“But I did ask for your dick.”
Luke cracks a grin. You’re funny. He wishes you would talk less, though.
“Alright, you got me. Are you looking for anything specifically? Aside from my dick, of course.”
“Can I have the full package?” you ask bluntly, and really, Luke respects it in a way. “I can afford it. I sorta… saved up for it. Because my friend recommended you and said you could really help me have a good experience.”
“Your friend,” Luke repeats. “Do I happen to know this friend of yours?” Because he might have fucked them already as far as he’s concerned. But again, you’re on the young side. And Luke mainly fucks older people. So your friend must be fucking geriatric.
“Not really. But her mom was your client once.”
Well, that’s fucking bizarre.
But not the weirdest Luke has ever heard. So he shrugs it off like nothing and goes back to take another sip of his beer.
“Do you want to know her name?”
“Not really.”
“Okay,” you say in a quiet tone. “So… Can I get the full package then? And can I also know what it includes now?”
Luke raises a brow again. “Now?”
“Yes, what do we usually do? I don’t think you’re doing a good job selling yourself. Shouldn’t the customers know what they’re paying for first? And you don’t really sound very enthusiastic. Maybe this is a bad idea after all —”
“Whoa.” Luke is quick to grab your wrist when you’re about to slide off the stool and walk away. “Where the fuck are you going?”
You scrunch your nose as you try to pull your arm away. “I’m leaving. Like I said, you don’t look excited. If I’m boring you now, I’ll probably bore you later during sex.”
He breathes loudly through his nose. Young girls. Always so insecure. But luckily Luke knows just how to butter you up. After all, he’s not about to let money walk away from him. That’s not the type of person he is.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I was distracted. You have my full attention now. Full package, was it? You wanted to know what’s included?”
“Yes,” you deadpan.
“Well, why don’t I show you instead? That’s what you’ll be paying for, right?” Luke grins, squeezing his fingers slightly around your wrist. He then pulls your stool closer to him until the two of you are almost touching. “I don’t usually tell my clients what I’m going to do to them in bed. I like to surprise them.”
Luke sees you frowning. It’s cute. The way your nose scrunches up, almost like a cat.
“I don’t really like surprises.”
“But this is a good surprise, though. Don’t you think?”
When it takes more than a few seconds for you to respond, Luke wraps an arm around your waist instead. It makes you gasp a little, but you don’t pull away. Just gives him a weird, cautious look that he sort of respects a little bit. Usually women (and men occasionally) would be throwing themselves to him. But you’re being cautious. It’s a good thing.
“What’s your name?” he finally asks, and he smiles when you say it politely. “Pretty name. But I’d rather call you baby. Or sweetheart. Or my good girl –”
Luke snaps his head to the side when the bartender named Mark knocks on the counter.
“Not here, dude. We’ve got customers around.”
He finds that mildly offending considering Luke is the one that brings the customer around in the first place. But he doesn’t say anything, because he’s got a cute girl hanging on his arm.
Instead, Luke turns his attention back to you who looks flustered by the sudden acknowledgement.
“Seems like they want us out. Do you want to get out of here, baby? Don’t worry, I’ll pay for the motel. Only because you’re cute.”
*
The man who works at the front desk knows Luke, and he knows why he’s here.
He just tosses him the key for the room without looking up from the k-drama he’s watching, and he knows Luke will pay the next day – he always does.
Luke has your hand in his as he drags you to the second floor and the last room of the hall.
“Have you been here before?” you ask meekly as you look around the area.
“I’m here every other week, sweetheart,” Luke says as he pushes the door open. “It’s cheap and it gets the job done.”
He gets out of the way so you can enter first, and he watches as you cautiously look around the room. Luke has suspicions that you’re a rich kid. Maybe with strict parents, because you mentioned something about saving up for this kind of nonsense. But honestly, he’s not quite sure. Luke is certain this is the first time he’s fucking someone your age, though.
Speaking of.
“Hey, I probably should’ve asked you this earlier. But how old are you?”
You turn to look at him with surprised eyes. “Oh, I’m 20. Just turned 20 last month.”
“Oh, great,” Luke sighs in relief. Definitely the youngest one he will ever fuck. But he guess there’s a first time for everything, right? “You ever done this before?”
“Seeking out a prostitute?”
“Well, that too,” he points out. “But like, sex in general?”
It takes a tad bit longer for you to answer. Longer than necessary. And Luke raises a brow in suspicion.
“You had sex before, right?” he asks again.
Again, silence. In fact, you’re even avoiding his eyes like a guilty dog.
“Please, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”
“Does that matter?” you pout. “You’re good at this, you know what to do. That’s why I’m paying you.”
Jesus Christ.
Luke has personally never handled a virgin before. And honestly, he really should’ve expected something like this already. Considering how bashful you’re being. But then again, there are virgins out there who act freakier than him. That’s why Luke’s never been the one to judge a book by their cover.
“I’ve never fucked a virgin before, that’s all.”
You squint at him. “I don’t believe that. You’ve lost your virginity yourself too, haven’t you?”
“Well, I lost it to someone who wasn’t a virgin. So technically I wasn’t fucking a virgin.”
“Do you want to get paid or not?”
Mouthy.
And if Luke isn’t a literal slave for money, he probably would’ve said no to your bratty ass. He rarely comes across one. But when he does, it comes with a challenge that leaves his dick satisfied. So he guesses it’s all good.
In two wide strides, Luke is crossing the room and towering over you. He finds it quite cute that you have to crank your neck up just to fully look at him, and he brings his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. Such a simple action and you’re already trembling like a leaf.
“Is there anything I can’t do to you before we start?”
“None. Do whatever you want with me.”
Luke can’t help but grin. “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”
You don’t answer then. And that’s good. Because quite frankly, he’s getting tired from how mouthy you’re being. The only sounds he wants to hear from women’s mouths are the ones when he’s stuffing them full of his cock, brain rendered blank and drooling mindlessly on the pillow.
Luke finally leans down to capture your lips to his, and he pulls you close to his body as he wraps his hands around your waist. Turns out, you’re not as stubborn now as you were an hour ago in the bar when you’re getting kissed like this. You’re quick to submit yourself and melt into his arms as Luke deepens the kiss.
He brings his hand on your neck, then he slides it up until he’s gripping your hair roughly, keeping your head in place as he licks open your lips. You immediately get the memo and open your mouth, and Luke immediately shoves his tongue inside.
Luke can hear the kiss when he tilts his head. It’s wet and messy, and there’s already drool spilling over the two of you. It’s clear that you have no idea what you’re doing, mindlessly letting your tongue clash with his while your hands desperately grip his shirt.
And when he pulls away, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. Luke leans closer to lick it away while you scrunch your nose in disgust.
“Don’t tell me that’s your first kiss too.”
“My first kiss was better than that,” you say with a hint of smirk on your face.
“I’m sure it was,” Luke hums. He then takes a hold of the end of your shirt and quickly pulls it off you. He whistles at the sight of your bra, holding a sizable flesh of tits right on his face. Beautiful. Breathtaking. He’s certain he’ll never get tired of the sight of boobs ever. Luke is quick to squeeze it through the fabric and watches as you squirm and whimper in front of him. “I want to fuck your tits. But maybe we can do it later.”
“Fuck my – how will that work?” you ask in genuine curiosity.
“I’ll slot my cock between those beautiful tits of yours and I’ll paint your face with my cum,” Luke deadpans, then he pushes you on the bed that you bounce slightly on the mattress. He slides his fingers on the edge of your pants, and he pulls it off in one swift movement, leaving you in just your underwear now that’s not going to last long – because Luke is pulling that away too.
And almost immediately, he smells the scent of sweet, untouched pussy in the air. And his cock has never been so hard before. When Luke spreads your legs open, his mouth dries up upon seeing your bare cunt in front of him.
“What?” you ask, voice a little shaky from embarrassment. “Is it ugly? I waxed before I went to you.”
“Why would you do that?” Luke tilts his head. “I love me some thick bush.”
“So it’s ugly?”
“No, I love all sorts of pussies, don’t worry,” he reassures her as he gently caresses your thighs. “Your cunt is fucking beautiful. Just been awhile since I last saw a bald one.”
Surprisingly, that cracks you up. And Luke finally hears a giggle falling from your lips. It’s cute.
“Take off your bra, too. I wanna see the girls.”
You obediently reach behind you and unclasp your bra. Luke watches with a grin on his face as your tits finally flow free. He brings his hands to cup both of them and uses his thumb to play with your perky nipples.
“T-They’re sensitive,” you whimper loudly. “Do you wanna… suck on them? I heard it feels good. Wanna try it out.”
Well, he wouldn’t have to be told twice.
Luke leans down and wraps his lips around your right nipple, and he sucks roughly. He sucks until your back is arching under him, lips licking around your areola before diving back in to suck and nip gently at your nipple. Then Luke turns to the other one and does the same, until his spit is dribbling down to your belly and you’re itching away from the assault of his mouth.
When he pulls away to see your reaction, he sees that already fucked out expression on your face that he’s familiar with. But this early on? Fucking hot.
“How’s that, baby? You love getting your pretty tits played with?”
You only nod with your bottom lip in between your teeth. Not good enough.
Luke brings his hand down to smack your left tit, and you squeal like a pig.
“Words, sweetheart. I want to hear it.”
“Yes! Yes, Luke, I-I love getting my t-tits played with,” you sniffle, and he smiles. Good.
“That’s better.” He gives your nipple a pinch and laughs cruelly when you yelp in surprise.
Luke pulls away to start unbuckling his belt. His eyes never leave yours as he yanks it out and throws it on the floor. But before he gets rid of his pants, he gets rid of his shirt first, baring himself in front of you and shivering slightly when the cold air hits his chest. Luke also doesn’t stop you when you sit up, a hand reaching to touch his chest and stomach, your surprisingly short nails digging into his skin.
“You like what you see?” he asks teasingly.
“You’re… really hot,” you say quietly, hand going further down until your fingers are just nestled on the thatch of hair around his belly button and disappearing down into his pants. “And hairy.”
“You should see the big guy.”
You give him a weird look and he pushes your hand away. Luke then shoves his own hand inside his pants, and he fishes out his hardening cock to show it to you. He’s still not fully hard yet, just barely getting there, but he can already feel himself heavy in his palm and leaking slightly on the tip. Luke holds it on the base as he points it directly at you – something he noticed that women loved from his years of doing it. And when he pans his eyes to look at you, as expected, you might as well be drooling like the rest.
“Is that – wow, that’s… really thick…” you trail off, eyes never leaving his dick. “You’re not fully hard yet, right? Is it going to get bigger?”
“Yeah,” Luke grins. “You like it? This is what you’re going to be paying for, isn’t it? The first words you uttered to me were about my giant cock.”
“I just never expected it to be that big.”
“This isn’t even the biggest it’s going to get,” he deadpans. “You’re going to have to wait for that. So for the meantime…”
Luke grabs your legs and pushes them up in the air, baring you outright naked in front of him. And he doesn’t miss the way your face twists in a sudden surprise, but Luke doesn’t wait to admire it.
He immediately dips his head down and latches his mouth upon your cunt, and he sucks. He keeps a tight hold on your thighs, his nails digging into your skin as he hears the loudest whimper he’s ever heard a woman makes.
Virgins, Luke thinks. Probably the first time having her cunt touched too, much less eaten. But nonetheless, Luke delivers what he always does. What he knows he’s good at.
He alternates between sucking and licking on your clit, just at the right pace. Not too fast, not too slow. Luke can feel your slick already dripping down his chin, and he finally fucks his tongue inside your tight little cunthole and buries his nose down mound.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the smell of pussy.
“Fuck — Luke, that feels — oh, god… oh god, that feels so good —”
Luke hums loudly, making sure you feel the vibration on your pussy. He lets your fingers pull at his hair, and that only motivates him to fuck you with his tongue faster.
He drools all over your hungry hole. He can feel your warm walls clenching around his tongue. And he curls it to get all the slick from the source itself. Luke can feel himself getting harder as the seconds go by, and he can’t help but grind his cock slightly on the mattress.
“G-God, that — that kinda t-tickles — oh fuck — yes, yes —”
Luke pulls away to look at your face. It’s twisted in pure arousal and excitement, and your hands are pushing him back down to your hungry cunt that’s winking at him and clenching around nothing for more. He pulls back slightly to spit directly on your clit, and lets it dribble down your ridiculously tight opening and down your asshole.
“Luke, come on,” you whine loudly, trying to push his head down again, but Luke doesn’t relent. “Please continue. I want — your tongue again. Please?”
“You want it where?”
You pout and Luke smirks. How adorable.
“Tell me where. Go on,” he says. “Tell me you want my tongue again in your tight little pussy. Go on. Say it.”
“I’m not saying that —”
“Then you’re not getting it.”
When Luke goes to pull away, he laughs when you make sure to keep a rough hold onto his hair. You’re pulling it like a child, and he presses his cheek against your inner thigh with his hand caresses your hips.
“It’s embarrassing,” you say quietly, clearly ashamed. But that’s never been something Luke acknowledges when he’s fucking someone on the bed. If you’re not being shameful and not putting your heart into it, what’s the point? You were already moaning like you didn’t give a shit about the people possibly being next door.
“It’s hot,” Luke notes, giving you a cocky grin that he knows always works for other women. He’s not surprised when you bite your lip and look away, finally saying the words he’s been dying to hear.
“Please… put your tongue in my p-pussy…”
Luke’s cock has never throbbed so hard in his life before. Maybe it’s because you’re cute. Maybe it’s because you’re a virgin and this is the first sexual experience you’ve had in your life. Maybe it’s because he loves the way your cunt looks stretched around his fat fingers, and the way you moan with no shame and throw your pretty head back.
“Not quite my tongue yet but fuck me…” Luke whispers. “You’ve got the tightest little cunny I’ve ever come across.”
He pulls out his wet fingers and replaces them with his mouth. Finally. And Luke spends the next two minutes coaxing out your first orgasm of the night by smearing his lips and nose all over your sopping wet clit, acting as if he’s making out with it while keeping his eyes locked on your face
Luke uses his fingers to finally fuck you over the edge. Your legs wrap around his head and push him down to suck harder onto your clit. And when he curls his fingers in, he feels you squeezing around and squealing like a fucking pig.
Luke begins humping the mattress, his cock rubbing raw on the blanket bundled up beneath him. And he can feel his dick leaking like a fucking faucet. When he pulls away to sit up, he takes a moment to admire you out of breath.
“Your poor cunny looks prettier when she’s all puffy like this,” Luke smirks as he reaches down to deliver a smack right on your quivering pussy. You jolt and instinctively close your legs, but Luke smacks your thigh too. “Keep them open. We’re just getting to the good part.”
He sees you looking down to glance at his cock, and he cracks a grin when you grimace.
“That thing won’t fit.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Use something else.”
“I thought you wanted the full package?” Luke raises a brow, and he grabs your ankle when you try to crawl away. “Don’t go anywhere. I promise you that when I fuck you full of this dick, you won’t go looking around for something else.”
You can only whimper. Most girls do. And guys, don’t forget. Some of them would always act so brave and confident, but cry like a baby for a bottle when Luke’s screwing them down into the mattress. It’s hot, though. Luke can’t complain.
“Are we going to do it now? You don’t want me to…” you lick your lips. “You know… suck your uh —”
“My dick?”
“Yeah.”
“Next time,” Luke grins. Before he fully gets rid of his pants, he fishes for the spare condom in his wallet. They probably should’ve stopped somewhere first before they got here, but alas, he’s not about to run to some gas station when his cock is hard enough to knock down bricks on the wall.
When he sees you looking curiously at the package, he hands it over with a knowing smile on his face.
“You wanna put it on?”
“... Magnum XL…” you read the packaging quietly. And as if a surge of pride, Luke’s own dick twitches against his stomach.
“I know it’s big, stop wasting any more time. Put it on.”
You obey without another word. Maybe it’s because you’re scared. Luke imagines that’s probably the case. You’re a virgin, after all. And not to mention the fact that Luke has also never fucked a virgin before.
He’s just… going to be less aggressive, that’s all.
Luke holds himself at the base while you put on the rubber plastic over his girth. You give him a quick stroke to test it out, and he watches as you slowly lean your head closer to press a chaste kiss on the head of his cock.
“How fucking cute,” Luke chuckles, petting your hair. “You gotta kiss it better first because you know how I’d fucking struggle stretching that cunt of yours, hm?”
You scrunch your nose. “You need to learn how to be less vulgar.”
“I’m a male escort. It’s what I do.”
Luke doesn’t wait for whatever it is that you have to say next. He flips you over on your hands and knees, and he positions himself behind you, taking aim of his dick to rub your clit with the fat, mushroom head of it.
“It’s not — I’m scared, Luke. I don’t think it’s going to —”
“Shhh,” he says, reaching over to insert his fingers in your mouth. “Just relax. Let me do all the work. Relax your pussy when I head in. It’s going to hurt, but just relax.”
Luke really doesn’t want to comfort a crying virgin. But he doesn’t want to be an asshole. And what if you rate him with 2 stars after this and tell the experience to everybody. That’ll only ruin his great image.
So Luke slowly eases his cock in. Once the thick head finally slides its way in, everything else will go in smoothly.
“That’s right…” Luke coos when you keen and fist the sheets. “Biiig stretch.”
Your mouth is muffled, but he knows what you’re saying.
It’s big.
It’s a tight fucking fit.
“I know, I know,” he says through gritted teeth. Because fucking hell. His dick feels like it’s being choked to death. When he knows half of him is finally inside your snug little cunt, he prepares you for the worst part by pressing a soft kiss on your nape. That’s when he drives deep and shoves his whole dick inside you.
He throbs harder when you scream around his fingers, and he’s fucking lucky you didn’t bite them off. You just try to buckle your hips away, but Luke keeps you close to him, not letting you go anywhere far.
Luke keeps his cock buried deep inside you, and he takes a moment to regain his senses. He eventually pulls his fingers away and hears you letting out a pathetic sob as your face falls on the mattress.
Ah fuck.
How did you figure out this is his favorite position, really?
“It hurts, Luke —” you sniffle.
“Only at first,” he reassures while he keeps a hold of your hips. “Relax your muscles. You’re clenching, that’s why it hurts.”
“It hurts!” you argue loudly, but that soon crs. acks when Luke moves slightly and you scream. “Ah — slow down!”
Luke is reminded once again why he doesn’t fuck virgins.
He simply doesn’t have the patience for this.
But he’s nice today. He’s not an asshat. So he goes slow.
He drives his cock real nice and slow, only hearing your wordless little whimpers and moans. When you try to muffle it with the sheets, Luke pulls at your hair to hear you better.
“Don’t be shy to make a sound,” Luke reminds you. “I want the whole building to know who’s breaking in your pussy like this.”
“Stop — being so vulgar —” you choke out, and Luke can only laugh at you. “M-My pussy — it doesn’t — ah, slow down — it hurts! It’s big! Slow down!”
“I am slow,” Luke says with a small grin on his face. He rolls his hips forward slowly, enjoying the sloppy sounds that your cunthole is making as he slides in and out, the slowest he’s ever fucked someone in his life. “What were you saying? Your pussy what? It hurts? Does it?”
“Ah — it’s sensitive!” you whine.
“Poor baby,” he says, fake pouting. “But your poor little dripping pussy is so wet. Surely you won’t be able to blame me if I just —”
Luke doesn’t give you any more time to adjust.
He finally fucks deep, relishing the wet sound of his meaty cock sloshing in your cunt, and he begins jackhammering the shit out of you into the mattress.
“Luke —” you squeal out his name. But that squeal quickly turns into a scream. And when Luke grinds his hips against your ass, feeling his fat balls slamming against your sopping clit, you try to run your ass away but fail. “Ah — ah, ah, please — oh fuck — shit — it’s so big —”
“Yeah? You love it?” Luke grins through his sweat. “Tell me you fucking love it.”
“I — oh, Luke… Oh, fuck — oh, shit — fuck —” you moan pathetically, clenching around his dick as you try and buckle your hips away. “It feels so huge — I love it — I love it, Luke! I love being…. Ah… filled like this! Your cock! I love your cock —”
“Damn fucking right you do.”
Luke leans down to turn your head around slightly to press a wet kiss on your lips.
“More, more, more, please — please, Luke —”
“I knew you’d come around,” Luke grins. And then, he fucks you harder.
Luke fucks you until you’re clenching the sheets with your fist. He hammers his hairy cock down, until you’re pushing back against him by yourself, poor little clit dripping with pure satisfaction from being fucked full of him.
“Yeah, that’s right… work that pussy on my cock… show me how good you feel — oh fuck… yeah. She’s so fucking wet,” Luke croons. “Your kitty must be so fucking happy that I’m the first one to break her in, huh? God, you’re such a slut for it. Your first fat cock and you already know your fucking way around.”
“Y-Yeah… it feels so good, Luke… feels so good i-inside me…” you drool. Luke swears if he can see your face now, your eyes are rolling at the back of your head. It’s just one of the downsides of fucking doggy-style. But he doesn’t have to see it to know it. “My… pussy is so — happy. I’m gonna — I feel weird, Luke… my pussy feels like — oh… oh fuck… oh shit….”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Luke groans. And honestly, he can’t take it anymore. The moment he feels your hot walls squeezing him dry, he pulls himself out and rips the condom off and throws it on the ground. You fall on the mattress on your front, twitching and convulsing from your orgasm.
Luke takes himself in hand at the thick root of his dick, and he starts fucking his fist with a sweaty plap-plap-plap, his hand becoming a blur from the speed of it. And finally, he moves quick to flip you over on your back to aim his cock directly at you and shoot his load right onto your perfect fucking face.
Luke groans loudly, feeling his balls pulling at the sensation as he slows down from fisting his hairy cock. White ribbons of semen are shooting out of his slit and onto your brow and lashes, and it’s a good thing you have your eyes closed, otherwise that would’ve been a big problem.
And when you finally do open your eyes, you lick your lips at the sight of him.
Slut.
“Fuck…” is really the only thing Luke can say. He’s never come that fast before. That’s a new record. But then again, it mostly has to do with the fact that it was an untouched, virgin pussy.
Not anymore, it seems.
Luke moves to reach down and see the condition of your cunt. And he wants to salivate upon seeing it all puffy and sore and slightly gaping because of him. Not to mention the light streak of blood smeared all over your cunt lips and clit.
When he glances up to meet your eyes, he sees that you’re dipping your fingers onto his load and licking them clean.
“You’re a real fucking freak for a virgin,” Luke comments, and he smirks when he sees a glint in your eyes. “You wanna go again?”
You only raise a brow.
“... Is there an additional fee if I want it raw?”
a/n: this is just an excuse for me to write about luke's absolutely humongous cock. and also he's a bit mean here. also he's huge, did i mention that? also he's got a dirty mouth. also he's huge did i tell you that—
Camboy Henry filming him going down on you and fucking you while you're having a picnic date and you are in a pretty red and white gingham bra and panties with lace on the edges and he is hoping and praying that nobody walks by
Btw he gets wildly hard while he edits it before posting and has to have you come over and fuck him while the video plays in the back 💞😣
Begging him to let you cum but he has to shush you "I know, baby. Yeahhh, I know. You wanna cum but you need to be quiet. Don't want anyone to hear hm? That's my girl"
It's a long four hour lecture, he was quiet the first couple weeks of class, until you were paired together for a project
You bonded over how much you hated your professor and how both of you are going into the arts
Soon you became real friends, Henry inviting you over to show you his art, grabbing coffee before early lectures
Sometimes you would join him outside during one of his many smoke breaks during the long lecture, his long fingers holding the cigarette as his pink lips wrapped around it
You found him attractive, his hair, his eyes that seemed to be constantly pleading, his wet kitten attitude, something about him was just so interesting
Like the horny college kid you were you'd found an outlet to release your frustrations
Finding a Camboy, a tattoo over his chest, tiny little silver bars through his nipples
His voice was smooth, always dripping out like honey and the sound of his whines while he stroked himself and came over his hand made you cum over your fingers harder than ever before
It wasn't until Henry invited you to a beach day that you caught the tattoo.... and the piercings, and suddenly the voice, the ring, it all added up.
Your panties dampen out of habit, you feel embarrassed, humiliated, angry at yourself for not catching it and shutting it down sooner
But you never thought the Camboy with thousands of subs was actually just your friend trying to make ends meet during college
Every word he spoke, every moment he made reminded you of the faceless man who's brought you to orgasm so many times
He caught you looking at the tattoo, piecing it all together
Typically Henry would be on the shy side, quiet, maybe aloof
But instead a smirk wraps around his cigarette, pulling it from his mouth, ashing it as he blows it out slowly
Suddenly the beach day ended with his head between your thighs, and his hips, again, and again, until he brought you back to his place to shower of your sandy bits together
Using/ writing my ideas/ headcanons/ intellectual property without proper credit will warrant an immediate block :( plagiarism is a big deal!
this was written for the lovely lovely mrs lindstrom @lindstrms , HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE <333
i apologise in advance if this sucks, i tried 😭
I LOVE YOUUUU I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING DAY <333
summary
your husband lars surprises you for your birthday
warnings
oh its fluff. it's marshmallow fluff straight from the jar with a spoon. suggestive near the end, the teeniest age gap of like 6 years (reader is 21, lars is 27), wife!reader, husband!lars, post bianca, probably ooc, lars is a little better with reader's touch
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
the sun made it's way through the slats of your bedroom blinds in the morning time of your special day. your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the light. you turned on your side to where your husband slept, but you were met with an empty space. your brows furrowed slightly as you sat up, looking around the room. your eyes stopped on something at the bottom of the bed - a pink flower, with a little sticky note on the stem. you picked the flower up with the delicacy it called for, and read the note attached to it.
"happy birthday, lovebug. come downstairs when you wake up :)"
you smiled gently and pulled yourself up out of bed. you kicked your feet into a pair of slippers and made your way down the stairs to find your husband.
you found lars in the kitchen, surrounded by balloons in your favourite colours, a large gold foil '21' balloon behind him. across the table was breakfast from your favourite place. you also noticed a series of dishes on the counter and the distinct smell of vanilla honey air freshener, suggesting that he'd tried and failed to make something for you himself before he went out and bought you breakfast instead.
lars was stood in a cozy sweater, the one you loved most, with a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands and a sweet smile on his face as he saw you enter the room.
"there's my girl... happy birthday, bug." he spoke softly to you, not wanting to be too noisy in case you weren't fully awake yet.
you smiled brightly, your heart melting at the sight of the effort he'd put into making your day special. you made your way over to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm as you leaned up on your toes to kiss his cheek. he still had to lean down slightly for you. a rosy tint crept over his cheeks and nose at the feeling of your lips. it'd been a long road, but lars was getting better at accepting your touch more often. he was okay with soft kisses and gentle touching, and cuddling at night became a must for him faster than you'd have expected. you still had a long way to go with him, but you were much further than you used to be with him.
"thank you, my love. you did all this?"
lars nodded with a slight nervousness.
"is this- do you like it? i hoped you would..."
his nerves made you melt. god, he was such a sweetheart.
"i love it. this was so sweet of you, lars, thank you."
he smiled happily at your response. he held the flowers out to you, which you carefully accepted.
"i already cut the stems and everything for you. they just need water."
you motioned for him to lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before moving to grab a vase for your flowers. you placed them in the water and set them on the table in the sun. they looked so beautiful there, but lars was too distracted by how beautiful his wife was. slightly messy bed hair, cute pj's and slippers, he was obsessed with what god had blessed his life with. he worshipped you more than god.
he watched as you sat at the table, looking lovingly at your pretty flowers, and before he could convince himself it'd hurt, he was on his knees looking up at you. your eyes left the flowers and met his own in slight confusion.
"what're you doing down there?"
"i... i wanna worship you... give you a birthday treat... is- is that okay...?" he asked with the nerves of a lost puppy. he was so cute.
"wh... are you sure, baby? i don't wanna hurt you if it's too much..." you expressed your concern gently, not pushing him away if that's what he wanted, but ensuring he knew you weren't expectant of anything that'd cross his boundaries. he smiled slightly, that cute little curve of his mouth, and nodded.
"i want to..."
that was the last thing that was said before his hands reached up for your waistband, ready to worship the woman of his dreams, his birthday girl...
ooohhh how is ken with a touch starved pervy reader? 😋💜 (the lack of ken fics is a crime)
This is lowkey just fucking porn with some fluff and humor sprinkled through. Ken loves his pervy reader though hes so happy to be loved and doted on in anyway.
Word Count: 2658
Warnings/ tags: smut, dom! Reader, pervy!reader, ken and reader will go at it practically anywhere, so lowk public stuff but not really, heavy petting, tit sucking, hand jobs, ken had a scene where he is so close to being a male stripper oops
No one told Ken how touchy humans could be before he made the decision to become a real man. Of course, he wasn't complaining, especially if it was you that was touching him and feeling him up constantly. Really, it was just making up for years and years of lost contact, years spent under Barbie's dismissive gaze. He relished in the attention, loving the feeling of your hands caressing and massaging his pectorals and arms.
Not only did he get attention and praise constantly, but he got to be next to you. Kissing and loving you, praising the ground you walked on. It was simple symbiosis. A perfect system of give and take, responsibility shared equally between each member.
That's how he ends up here every single night, slumped against the couch as your hands explore and feel his bare shoulders and chest. With every stroke of your thumb, and every pinch of your fingers, he's groaning and whining loudly, eyes rolled back in bliss. The leather couch is cold against his hot, sweaty back, sticking to him like a second skin as his chest begins to heave.
Goodness, he loves it. The feeling of your skin against his.
Lips trail against his ear, a feather light tickly that sends goosebumps careening down his arms. The pulse of your breath pounds in his veins, mixing with the steady thrum of his heartbeat. A shared melody in between the both of you, the slow tune of lust. Desperate, his head turns towards yours, his lips ghosting over your lips as he begs and whines for more contact.
Contact that you don't give.
Instead you pull back, hand squeezing at his shoulders before sliding down and cupping his pectoral. It's so thick, so juicy under your prying fingers and you can't help but to wantonly moan at the skin and muscles flexing underneath you. Ken whines loudly and his head slams back against the seat before he leans up and chases your lips with his.
“Mmmm, so desperate,” you oblige for a moment, pressing your lips innocently against his, relishing in the way he presses in for more. “So needy, sweet boy.”
“P-please!”
With a smirk you pull away, your fingers pinching at a perky nipple before you stand up, walking away without a word. He's so easy to tease.
~
That's a frequent occurrence, you feeling him up and making him horny beyond belief, before you just walk away- leaving him high and dry. Of course, he wouldn't have it any other way, but sometimes he wishes you would just finish what you started. It was too fun to tease him though, to watch him squirm and writhe, pliant and soft under your exploring hands.
Especially in public.
In his defense, Ken didn't fully understand human propriety or reservations. But you did, and you just didn't care. His ass looked too good in his tight little bottoms, so perky and muscular- you couldn't help yourself. Sliding a hand behind him, you grab a cup full, laughing at the way his body jolts before sagging into you. The gasp he releases gathers everyone elses attention, but Ken nor you blush. And instead, he leans over, grabbing a hand full of yours too, giggling at the way your soft, squishy bottom jiggles under his fingers. You move him to the side, pressing his body behind a nearby wall, out of sight.
“Ken!” He giggles and wraps both of his strong arms around you, falling into your body dramatically as you scold him playfully. “In public, swearheart! Have you no shame?”
“No! Kiss me already!”
So you do, lips locking onto his and tongues swirling together. It's loud and messy, and right in a secluded corner of a sidewalk. People walking by can surely hear his moans and pants, but the thought only excites you, encouraging you to trail a hand down his abdomen. Straight towards his hardening cock. When you graze it, he moans loudly, tucking his head into your neck as he pants loudly, hot, moist breath fanning your skin.
But you don't give him anymore. You just push him back and give him a peck on his lips, laughing at the way he flushes red, expecting more. When you walk away, he follows like a dog on your heels, promiment bulge on display proudly.
~
Of course these affairs aren't one sided.
Ken loves the way you touch and tease him, surely you have to feel the same, right? So, any time he gets, he's on you, fingers pulling at your breast and hips rutting into you like a dog in heat. It's less restrained and far more desperate than you, fueled solely by his desire to make you feel as good you make him feel.
You're just trying to make dinner, to care for the both of you, but his hand slips up your shirt before cupping your breast. Hot, desperate fingers pull at your nipple while he ruts into your side, clothed cock grinding against your hip and thigh. It makes you stop, head falling back into the air as your mouth opens into a small O. This is only encouragement for him though, and he pinches hard eliciting a sharp, excited gasp from your lips.
Suddenyl you snap out of it, eyes narrowing as you continue working, “ken! I am cooking right now.”
“I don't careeeeee,” he whines and licks your neck, leaving a wet, cold trail along your skin.
“You are going to care when you're starving. Do you know how whiney you get when you're hungry?”
“Please, I'll do anything. Just one, please. Please.” Every beg of the word please has him panting and biting against your neck, all while his finger trails lower, playing with the hem of your tiny shorts. For a moment, you consider relinquishing control and allowing him to finger fuck you against the stove. But you think better of it and instead pull back, looking at him with a dissapointed frown.
The effect is immediate and he whines, backing away as he falls against the table, clutching his heart as if you ruthlessly stabbed him.
“I'm dying….. you've killed me I'm dying!”
“Ken, aha, sweetheart,” you scrape the pan, pulling up a tiny fraction of toasted food, “after dinner baby. Then you can fuck me against the counter, how about that?”
Shooting off the table, he pumps his fist, “sublime!”
~
Not every touch is sexual though.
Sometimes you just want to be loved, no, need to be loved. Without realizing it, Ken notices the energy shift, so used to you being happy and, honestly, perverted. But now you're a shell of yourself, sitting curled into a ball, pressed tightly against the leather couch. It's wierd and gross, he decides he doesn't like it at all.
So, doing what Ken does best, he tries to fix it, his hands trailing your legs and hips as he gropes and kneads at your skin. He thinks that this is whats best, that at the end of the day, your touch and taste is what makes him happy. But it isn't working.
And you push him away with a small, irritated huff.
Ken doesn't know what to do. He's never seen you likr this before, so drawn away and reluctant to touch him. It makes him feel sad and, surprisingly gross.
“Honey… please. What's wrong? Did I do something?” He reaches up to slap himself, “god, Ken! Always-”
Your fingers wrap around his wrist instantly, stroking the tight, bronze skin with gentle, loving reverence. Without a word, you just shake your head, pity lining your gaze as you shift, opening your legs and motioning him in with a hug gesture. In seconds he follows, wrapping you into a bear hug and sliding in betwenen your legs, groaning loudly at the way you squeeze him. It's not sexual, but it's warm and inviting- full of love and softness. The exact thing he didn't realize he needed.
You needed.
~
Once Ken realizes he has full permission to be all over you, sexual or not, he's incorrgible. All day, every single day, he's wrapped around you like a baby koala, desperate for your attention. It's endearing and exactly what you want and need in life.
Perfect for someone so touch starved.
Sometimes he even likes suckling at you, in a totally not pervy, not sexual way. He honestly, just loves the feeling of your nipples in his mouth and your fingers in his hair.
Currently, his head is resting on your clothed stomach as his fingers absentmindedly play with your claves and thighs. There's nothing better than laying on top of you, being your personal heater and weighted blanket. But he so desperately wants to put his mouth on you.
So, he does.
Suddenly he turns, laying on his belly as his fingers begin trailing up your sides, slipping under the shirt loosly covering your body. Then he lifts is, tucking it above your breast and exposing your soft breast and hardening buds to him. Without a word, he leans down, capturing on in his mouth as sucking lightly, tongue cirlcing sensually. It's heaven like this, you on your back and him above you, kneading and sucking on you as if he would die without it.
“Mmmm, so needy, baby,” your fingrrs find his hair, pulling on the short, bleach blond strands. “You like it?”
Pushing harder against you he hums, hand coming up to play with your free, neglected breast. It makes you moan softly, heat and moisture pulling in your core. But he just continues, watching your face fall into silent bliss while you watch TV. He could stay like that forever, playing with you like a stress toy while you pretty much ignored his existence.
~
The first time you brought Ken to a club, he went crazy: drinking way too much, grinding and dancing on everyone, standing on the counters and putting on a show. All while dressed in his pink, glamorous cowboy outfit. To be honest, he looked like a stripper and your pretty sure the entire club thought so too. But he was loving the attention, and loving the money people kept sliding into his pockets. Paying for even more drinks.
It was a positive feedback loop. More money. More drinks. More dancing. More money.
Of course you were jealous, but he was having so much fun, pure and unbridled joy lighting up his face as all eyes were glued to him. It helped that he looked so painfully hot up there, face flushed and skin gleaming with sweat as he laughed joyfully while his hips gryrated. A move he certainly learned from you.
Jealously or not, at the end of the day he came home to you. Only you.
So, once the club closed down for the night, you collected him, hand brushing away sweat beading on his forehead before it trailed down, careesing the damp skin of his pecs. He hardly even registered the touch, too happy and excited to tell you about his night. As if you weren't watching every move he made.
“I cannot believe how generous people are,” he wraps an arm around you, and leans his entire body weight on you. Of course you fall under the weight, not expecting the hulking, himbo of a man to just dump himself on you. In his lack of coordination he falls with you, landing on top of with a loud, dramatic squeal. “Oh my god, hi! Crazy seeing you down here, huh? You look so good right now!”
His lips find your neck, biting and sucking at the skin. It would preferable to lay there and take everything he has to give you, but through the corner of your eye you see it, a bouncer rapidly approaching your location.
Pushing him up you stand, gathering him in your arms and rushing away from the approaching fun police. Preferably towards home where you can get him sobered up and then have your way with him.
~
Ken is standing alone in the bathroom, preparing a shower, the hot steam filling the air and brushing his skin with moist, warm beads. Whislting he jumps in, sqeualing loudly at the burning temperature of the water scorching his delicate human skin. He tries to fight it, punching the streams with a fist befire he realizes that isn't going to work and he turns down the heat, sighing at the water cools against him.
Perfect.
Of course, Ken left the bathroom door wide open so you heard all of it and with a giggle you approach the bathroom and lean against the doorframe. Light barely filters through the shower curtain, but you see him, nude body moving behind the fabric, bare and tantalizing.
As silently as you can, you remove your clothes, dropping them to the floor before sliding the current open and stepping in behind him. Of course, he's singing so loudly with his eyes clothes and he doesn't notice you. That is until your hands slip around his waist, finders splaying flat against his muscular chest.
He screams.
A loud, hitch pitched shout echoes throughout the bathroom as he jumps to the ceiling, head slamming into it. You just giggle and tighten your hands, pulling him back into you and connecting your chest to his back. It's so soft against yours and he swear he can feel your nipples harening against him, and he twitches, cock hardening to half mast.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hi,” he whispers, body practically going to limp in your arms.
“Mmm, do you want to have some fun?”
“Yes!”
His cock twitches again.
Feeling bad for him you reach down, grapping his semi hard length with your warm, wet hands. He whines and lets his head fall back against your shoulder as you cup and explore his hardening length. Each stroke of your hand, each careess of your fingers makes him grow until he's full erect, head red and dripping with pre-cum.
That's when you slip your other hand down, cupping and massaging his balls as your other hand begins stroking his cock aggressively. A pathetic sob escapes his throat, the sound shooting directly down your spine and pooling into your core. So, you reward him, stroking and massaging him faster as he begins to rut into your hands, desperate for release.
“Oh, you're such a good boy ken,” you can feel him nod against your shoulder, groaning muttering a ‘yes’. “Do you think you deserve to cum?”
“Yes! P-please, I've been so good! I haven't touched you all week just like you said!”
“Mm that's right,” your fingers tighten around his head, wrist circling and fingers massaging his swollen head. It twitches underneath you and he whines loudly, hips thrusting in uneven, chopping jerks. He's so close. “Cum for me, baby. Give me it all.”
Instantly he twitches, spilling onto your hand in sporatic, thick splurts of white, milky cum. With each jerk he whines, loving the way you continue to stroke and massage him through his orgasm. Without a word, you reach up, sticking a dirty finger into his mouth and forcing him to clean you off. He obliges, licking ever finger clean before turning to you, a bright smile plastered onto his perfect his.
Eyes blown wide with lust, he leans down, capturing your lips with his. He taste salty and warm, his tongue darting out to mix with yours. Suddenly, his hand shoots forward, grabbing your damp leg and bringing it up to wrap around his waist, his already hardening cock pressing nicely against your soaking entrance.
One thing about Ken, is he's always ready to go. You being perverted and open about it just makes him more confident, and he's always ready to match your energy.
rumour mill 𓃮༶⋆ ☀︎.| “there’s a blue light in my best friend’s room.”
lars lindstrom x barbie!fem!reader | [pilot]
—coworker and neighbour strangers to more than friends.
WHEN you left barbieland, nobody understood why. that wasn’t entirely surprising. barbie land wasn’t really built around the concept of leaving.
people danced, they had beach parties, and changed outfits three times before breakfast. everything was bright and pink and loud and wonderful. sometimes overwhelmingly wonderful.
and after a while, you’d found yourself wanting something different. not better, but just different. you wanted mornings that weren’t perfectly choreographed and conversations that weren’t happening over a soundtrack.
you wanted a life that felt a little less predictable. so one day you packed a suitcase, hugged approximately three hundred crying barbies and kens, promising them to write letters.
and you left.
which was how you ended up in a tiny midwestern town that seemed permanently trapped somewhere between autumn and a postcard. the houses were small, the streets were quiet, everyone seemed to know one another, and nobody wore sequins before noon.
it was lovely, a little strange, but lovely.
your first morning there, you woke up excited. new town, new job, new life. you spent nearly an hour getting ready, not because you needed to. because you enjoyed it. back in barbie land, dressing up wasn’t an event, it was breathing.
you pulled on a brown button up and matching suit pants, small golden hoop earrings, a matching coat, leopard heels that clicked satisfyingly against the floor and enough perfume to make an impression. this barbie was going to work in a small autumnal town, so the outfit had to match the warm earthy tones of the area.
then you stepped outside and immediately noticed your neighbour. he was standing on the porch across the road with a coffee in hand. he was tall and seemed to be having a quiet morning.
he looked like somebody who belonged perfectly in the sleepy little neighbourhood around him. then he saw you, and froze completely.
you smiled immediately, because that’s what you did. “good morning!” he just stared at you. for a second you worried he hadn’t heard you. then he lifted a hand in a tiny awkward wave. his voice was so soft you didn’t catch what he said, so you assumed it was a “morning.”
you grinned, “i’m your new neighbour.”
“i … see.” he says just a little louder, his ears turned pink. adorable! you decided immediately that you liked him. “well, i hope we become friends.”
his expression suggested this possibility had never occurred to him, then you waved once more and headed towards your car. all the way to work you kept thinking about him. the shy neighbour.
this ken seemed nice.
you didn’t realise he worked at the same office until an hour later. you’d just been shown to your desk when you spotted him walking down the corridor.
the moment your eyes lit up in recognition, he nearly dropped the folder he was carrying.
“neighbour!”
half the office looked up, and lars looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. you walked straight over. “we work together!”
“apparently.”
“this is exciting.”
he nodded once. you got the distinct impression he wasn’t used to people describing office jobs as exciting. “what’s your name?” you ask, and he looks a little confused for a second, “i’m lars.” he says, voice quiet. “nice to meet you, lars!” you smile. lars still looked confused as you walked back to your desk. no one was ever this excited to learn his name.
your first day at the office is wonderful. everyone is friendly, everyone is welcoming, they all seems nice. except for one thing. there’s a strange pattern you begin noticing almost immediately.
people are kind to lars… technically, but from a distance. they smile politely, they acknowledge him, but there were small things that didn’t make sense to you.
the sort of thing most people probably wouldn’t pay attention to. when groups formed around desks, lars somehow ended up on the outside, and when people chatted during breaks, conversations flowed around him rather than through him.
when lunch arrived, everybody sat together, but lars sat alone. not because anybody told him to, because nobody invited him. it made absolutely no sense to you. he wasn’t rude or anything, he certainly wasn’t unfriendly. he was simply quiet and seemed a little awkward.
back in barbie land, quiet people got included first, otherwise they might spend the whole party standing beside the punch bowl.
so naturally you picked up your lunch and sat opposite him. lars looked up from his sandwich. blinking at you, “hi.” he muttered, not really looking at you. “hi, lars!” you smiled. “how’s your sandwich?” he stared for several seconds, “good.”
“that’s great.”
it was a quiet few seconds before he asked, “how’s yours?” your smile widened. you’re happy he’d asked. you weren’t entirely sure why that felt like such a victory. “excellent.”
and from that moment onwards, lunch became your thing. your invite him to sit with you everyday, sometimes buy him a drink or some cookies from the vending machine. you didn’t like seeing him be left out.
at first lars assumed it was temporary. you were new and overly friendly, eventually you’d make proper friends. eventually you’d realise he wasn’t particularly interesting. eventually you’d stop sitting with him.
that was how these things usually worked.
except you didn’t, the next day you sat with him again. then again, then again. after two weeks, your coworkers had simply accepted that wherever one of you was, the other probably wasn’t far away.
you asked him questions, genuine questions about books, films, his hobbies, questions about the town. and to lars’ endless surprise, you actually listened to the answers when most people didn’t. not really.
they usually waited for their turn to speak. you actively listened. it made him feel strangely important.
being neighbours complicated things, or improved them… depending on who was judging. because now you kept running into one another, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not.
you’d wave at him every morning, sometimes from your porch, sometimes from your mailbox. sometimes while carrying enough shopping bags to qualify as a structural hazard.
and gradually those tiny interactions started getting longer. five minutes became ten, ten became twenty. you’d lean against at wall while lars chopped wood and talk while the evening light faded. sometimes about serious things, sometimes about absolutely nothing.
lars discovered you could somehow make absolutely nothing interesting. he wasn’t entirely sure how.
you were fixing any reason and excuse to talk to him, whether it was giving him a plate of picture perfect cookies, asking if he could chop wood for your fire place, and gifting him jazz records, you just wanted to talk to him because you found him so genuinely interesting. and lars couldn’t help but feel both taken aback and flustered every time. you seemed to really care.
from everyone else’s perspective, it starts innocently. the new girl sits with lars. okay, that’s nice, very kind. good for her. then she keeps sitting with lars, every day, for weeks. then she’s saving him seats, and bringing him coffee, and walking out with him after work.
suddenly people start noticing, and they’re talking. because it’s a small town, and word gets around quick.
nobody has ever seen lars like this, not ever. most people know him as polite, quiet and reserved. but around you? he laughs, he makes jokes that make you laugh, he actually starts conversations.
the transformation isn’t dramatic. it’s subtle but it’s there, and everybody notices. especially because they keep catching him looking at you.
poor lars, he’s thinks he’s being discreet when he’s actually no where near it.
you’ll be standing across the room talking to somebody and lars’ eyes automatically drift towards you. not consciously, he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. he just likes knowing where you are, likes seeing you happy, likes hearing you laugh, it’s become instinct.
unfortunately for him, everybody else has functioning eyesight.
there’s one particularly devastating afternoon where you show up wearing this absolutely stunning vintage-inspired outfit. soft chocolate brown, cinched waist, heels and perfectly styled hair.
the sort of look that would have had half of barbieland applauding. you walk into the office carrying coffee for you and lars. the entire office practically short-circuits. people stare, people compliment you, somebody accidentally walks into a filing cabinet.
and lars?
lars completely forgets what he’s doing. he’s holding paperwork, then suddenly he’s not processing any information whatsoever. just staring, completely captivated. you, meanwhile, are completely oblivious.
which somehow makes it worse. because you walked over and smiled at him. “good morning, lars! i thought of you this morning, so got this coffee for you!” and suddenly his entire day improves. you were thinking about him. actively. wow.
the funniest thing is that people are far more confused than judgemental. nobody’s saying lars isn’t good enough. they’re saying they genuinely don’t understand how this happened.
because from the outside it looks like a glamorous movie star accidentally wandered into a small-town romance.
one elderly woman eventually corners you at a community event at church on a sunday morning. she looks between you and lars, then back at you, then back at lars. like she’s trying to solve a maths problem.
finally she says: “you know you’re very pretty.”
“thank you.”
“and he’s lars.”
you blink very slowly, suddenly feeling a lot of emotions. protective, annoyed, upset. because why would she say that when he’s right there?
“what’s that supposed to mean, old lady?” you ask, a question that would receive loud gasps and dead silence in barbieland. she just slowly backs off.
the thing people slowly realise, however, is that you never seem confused. everybody else is. you very much aren’t. people keep expecting you to wake up one day and suddenly notice the difference. the difference in popularity, in confidence, in appearance. whatever the case may be. but you never do.
because from your perspective there isn’t a mystery. when you look at lars, you aren’t comparing him to anybody. you aren’t seeing social status. you aren’t seeing the awkward man everybody tiptoes around. you see the person who remembers your favourite flowers. the person who always asks how your day went. the person who carries groceries for elderly neighbours. the person who listens when you talk. really listens.
the person who makes room for everyone else despite spending most of his life being left out.
and eventually other people start seeing it too. because once somebody points it out, it’s impossible to ignore. they notice how gentle you are with him. they notice the way he watches for your reaction whenever he says something. they notice how his face lights up when you arrive. they notice that you somehow make him comfortable.
you always make room for him, no matter the situation. at a party, if someone talks over him, “wait, lars was saying something.” if there’s a meeting at the office, you’re placing your handbag on the seat next to you to reserve it for him, always making sure to show off his skills, “well, lars is a actually really good at carpentry. you should see him chop wood, he’s the best at it.”
always making sure that he’s comfortable enough to be himself.
the real turning point comes when somebody asks you directly, because eventually somebody had to. one of your coworkers catches you smiling after a conversation with lars and says: “serious question, what exactly do you see in him?”
the question isn’t exactly cruel, just genuinely curious. and you look completely baffled, because to you the answer is obvious.
“everything.”
the coworker laughs, you don’t. “you’re not funny. why are you laughing.” and the coworker immediately stops laughing, and is a little shocked. you’re usually so sweet, they just expected you to laugh too. “do you think you’re better than him or something?”
the coworker just awkwardly stands there, “he’s kind, he remembers things, and he makes me feel safe. so what, he’s different. you’i’ll never be above him. you can only wish you’re like him.”
meanwhile lars overheard this entire conversation, and is blushing like a schoolboy. you were willing to defend him like that? at the office in front of everyone? oh, his heart was about to beat out of his chest.
everyone else saw you as this beautiful, impossibly glamours, fashionable sweetheart who’s always with quiet little lars lindstrom. but you saw your best friend, the man that brings you hot chocolate when it’s too cold outside, the man that makes you little wooden sculptures of birds just because, the one person who saw you as something that isn’t a perfect pinup girl.
people stop asking “why lars?” and start wondering, “well, who else could it have been?”
between every lunch, every conversation, every morning wave, every time you chose the empty seat beside him when there were dozens of others available, every time you looked at him like he was somebody worth knowing, somewhere between neighbour and friend, he’d fallen completely.
the most wonderful thing of all was that, you had fallen too.
how would goose characters react to being caught in the act? ;)
Lars would genuinely be soooo embarrassed and be in actual tears and never stop apologizing
"Keep going honey, that's good." Lars biting his lip to try to keep himself quiet, which is hard for him to do.
You keep bouncing on him, his hands on your breasts and face in your neck. You just finished dinner with Gus and Karin, and quickly pushed them out back to their house so you guys could share some.... intimate time.
You thread your hand in the back of his hair, holding him close.
"Hey, Lars. I accidentally took your bla-" Karin lets out a scream and turns around, it taking her far too long to shut the door behind her. You jump off of Lars, both of you doing your best to cover yourselves but you're on top of the comforter with no way to grab it.
"I'll just-" Karin struggles to get her words out. "I'll come back later!"
Lars covers his face, whining as his breathing begins to grow heavy. "Oh no..." you shake your head, pulling a shirt over your head.
"No Lars, it's okay. We're adults." He shakes his head, still covering his face. "That's so embarrassing. They shouldn't see that. We should've locked the door." You shake your head, brushing his wild hair back.
"It's going to be fine, Lars. Do you want me to talk to her?" Lars pushes his hands through his hair, his eyes full of tears from pure embarrassment. "Would you?" You nod, sliding shorts up your legs.
"I'll go talk to her." You kiss his head, opening the door and catching up with Karin who has Lars' blanket in her hand. "Hey, um." You scratch the back of your neck, feeling ultra awkward and uncomfortable since Karin just saw you in just a compromising position but you would rather deal with the bit of embarrassment than Lars.
"I'm sorry about that..."
Karin nods, shaking her head. "No, no. I should've knocked! It's- it's totally my fault! I just wanted to give this back to Lars." You tsk the blanket from her hands, thanking her. "Do you mind not bringing this is? Just for him? I just... don't want him to be more embarrassed than he already is."
Karin keeps her word, and at breakfast the next day she doesn't mention a word but Lars still hangs his head low in his bowl of cornflakes
Holland would let out a scream
Balls deep inside of you, fucking you from behind. He's kissing up and down your back.
"So fucking good babydoll. So wet for me too." You're practically speechless as he continues to hit your g-spot over and over, his hand wedged between you to rub your clit.
"Right there, March. Keep going." He's drooling all over you and placing open mouth kisses everywhere until suddenly the door swings open and Healy is standing there.
Holland screams, filling you to the hilt as his arm comes up to cover your breasts. He doesn't realize what he's doing to you. "What are you doing?!" Holland screams, trying to shield himself with a pillow.
"Come on, come on. Let's go!" Healy yells, and Holland tosses an arm out. "Motherfucker! I'm clearly busy! Get out!" He tosses a pillow at Healy but he remains unfazed.
"Two minutes! Two minutes and you better be ready!" He warns before slamming the door shut.
Noah would be more annoyed that you were interrupted and just keep apologizing to you
"So beautiful, darlin'." Noah pants into your ear, hunched over you as he thrusts into you. Your hands are on his back and your legs are wrapped around his waist to keep him deep inside of you, skin to skin as you can't get enough. "So good." He groans, thrusting into harder.
He places open mouth kisses to your neck, running his nose up and down your jaw before grabbing your face and pulling you into a kiss.
You moan into his mouth, feeing yourself get closer to your high as he continues to push in and out of you.
You can hear the creeks of the floorboards, but have no time to react before his dad is stepping into the room.
You knew his dad staying with the two of you would be tricky at times, but never even in your wildest nightmare did you imagine this happening.
His dad slaps the door shut, yelling an apology.
Noah covers your bodies with your white sheets, groaning into your neck. "Fuck. M' fuckin' sorry baby." He sighs, shaking his head. He rests, trying to catch his breath.
"I'm sorry, baby. God. Should've remembered to lock the door." He sits up, pulling the sheets around his waist. "He definitely saw my ass." You both start giggling, Noah pushing at your shoulder and attacking you in kisses to get you back for laughing at him.
Driver wouldn't care and would just keep going
You're at your spot, he's fucking you from behind with your face pressed into the seat on his car. The windows have steamed up and the car shakes, obvious what you're doing to any bystander.
The car is filled with his huffs, and you're begging whimpers.
You can hear them trying to close, knocking on Drivers window to tell you to leave, threatening to close the road on you.
Driver pays them no mind, continues to thrust into you until you both cum, pulling out and driving away with not a work or even a look to anyone else.
warnings : intruder; I think it's fluff; Lars acting like Lars (I hope); unplanned touch; a bit of teasing.
note : the tree house became a cause of conflict
a/n : "Gentle Monday" is a series I'd like to start here. I hope I can keep writing regularly. Gentle, comforting, sweet stories. I think the week should start softly — that's my theory.
The lake was calm. The water barely stirred beneath the setting sun, and the leafless trees swayed gently in the cold breeze. Remnants of snow crunched beneath Lars’s winter boots as he approached the familiar spot.
He dug his hands deeper into his jacket pockets while standing beneath the wooden structure tucked high in the nearby tree. His and Gus’s old treehouse was still there. Lars liked visiting it from time to time, especially when he wanted to be alone. To think.
He needed that tonight, too.
His gaze drifted to the rope hanging from the branch. For a moment he considered climbing it like he used to, but eventually chose the ladder instead.
The wood creaked softly under his weight as he climbed higher. He reached the top and froze.
Someone was already there.
You were stretched out on the wooden floor with your hands folded behind your head, staring up at the gray steel sky. You didn’t even look particularly surprised to see him.
Lars immediately stiffened. “Oh.”
You turned your head slightly. “Oh?”
“This is…” Lars cleared his throat awkwardly. “Private property.”
“Private property?” you repeated, sounding genuinely surprised.
“Yes.”
You glanced around the treehouse. “Huh. I didn’t see a sign anywhere. Weird.”
Lars frowned faintly. “It’s my property.”
That made you laugh. Not loudly, but enough for Lars to feel heat creep into his cheeks.
“You sound like an old man yelling at kids to get off his lawn.”
“It’s not a lawn.”
You tilted your head, studying him properly now. Then suddenly your expression shifted.
“Wait.”
Lars immediately grew wary.
“I know you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re the guy from town.” You pointed at him slightly. “You’re always staring at me in the grocery store. Or the library. Or that café on the corner with the white curtains.”
Lars blinked rapidly. “I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m not,” he protested quickly.
“You’re doing it right now.”
His ears turned pink almost instantly. You grinned, victorious, while Lars looked away toward the lake, seemingly unsure whether he should be offended or embarrassed.
“What’s your name?” you asked.
He hesitated for a long moment. “That’s classified.”
You snorted softly. “Classified?”
“Yes.”
You carefully pushed yourself upright and brushed the dirt from your jeans. “Alright then. Guess I’ll just stay here forever.”
Lars looked alarmed immediately. “Forever?”
“Mhm.”
“This is my treehouse.”
“You haven’t proven that.”
“I told you.”
“That’s not proof.”
He stared at you for several painfully long seconds, visibly struggling with himself. You found it strangely sweet. There was something about him that made you want to smile—not mockingly or out of pity, but with genuine amusement.
“Lars,” he mumbled finally.
“What?”
“My name is Lars.”
Your smile softened immediately. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Then you gave him your name. Lars regretted speaking almost instantly, but still repeated your name several times in his head anyway.
You moved toward the rope hanging from the opposite side of the treehouse. “Well, thank you for sharing that classified information with me, Lars.”
Lars instinctively climbed down a few steps after you, watching carefully. Halfway down, you glanced up at him with a teasing smile.
“Still staring.”
“I’m making sure you don’t fall.”
“Very heroic.”
“I’m not being heroic.”
“Sure.”
Then suddenly your hand slipped faster than you expected. You lost your balance on the rope with a startled sound, and Lars reacted instantly. He climbed down quickly and caught your arm at the last second, pulling you sharply toward him. You grabbed onto him automatically, fingers bunching tightly in his jacket.
Dry leaves crunched beneath your feet as the two of you stumbled awkwardly down the last few rungs together. For one long second, neither of you moved. You were still clutching his jacket. Lars’s hands were still tight around your waist. His breathing had stopped entirely.
You looked up first. “Okay,” you admitted softly. “That was actually heroic.”
Lars let go of you immediately like he’d touched a live wire. “Sorry.”
“You caught me.”
“Sorry.”
You couldn’t help smiling. “You apologize a lot.”
He looked deeply uncomfortable now, rubbing the back of his neck while carefully avoiding your eyes. The cold wind shifted through the trees around you, and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself.
“I should probably head back before it gets dark.”
“You walked here?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.
“Yeah.”
“That’s far.”
“It’s not that bad.” You smiled softly. “I like walking.”
“It’s cold.”
You shrugged. “I’ll survive.”
Lars stared at the snowy ground for several long moments, very obviously arguing with himself.
“…I could drive you,” he said quietly.
You blinked.
“If you want,” he added quickly. “You don’t have to.”
The drive was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Lars kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel while you watched the darkening trees pass outside the window. Every so often he glanced in your direction like he wanted to say something, only to think better of it at the last second.
When he finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you slowly unbuckled your seatbelt.
“Thanks for the ride.”
He nodded once. You opened the door, then paused before stepping out.
“You have a really nice treehouse, Lars.” He looked genuinely surprised by that. “I always wanted one like that when I was a kid.”
Something in his expression softened then. You smiled at him one last time before stepping out into the cold evening air.
And Lars stayed parked outside long after you disappeared inside.
Two days later, you walked into the café near the hardware store with your usual coffee already on your mind. Then you stopped. Someone was sitting at your table.
Lars.
The second he noticed you standing there, he looked almost guilty. Slowly, you approached the table, lips twitching with amusement.
“Well,” you said while draping your coat over the chair across from him, “now you’re occupying my place.”
Lars looked horrified. “I can move if you want.”
“No, no.” You sat down with a grin. “Seems fair.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly. Then you noticed the second coffee sitting across from him. Your usual order. Exactly the way you liked it. You looked back at him immediately. Lars avoided eye contact at once, suddenly very interested in the sleeve of his sweater.
You smiled before wrapping your hands around the warm cup. “So,” you asked softly, “do you buy coffee for all your trespassers?”
Lars ducked his head slightly, hiding a nervous smile.
“No,” he admitted quietly.
And for the first time since meeting him, Lars Lindstrom looked almost comfortable sitting beside you.
Hey I'm sitting in the middle of the interstate chewing on rocks and ripped up tires
At first Lars was confused. How does that even feel good? What's the purpose? Why that spot out of everything else?
"My tummy?" Lars questions, his hands coming to the bottom of his belly to comfort himself and size up the spot. His thick sweater covers his belly, a nice button up under it as he's been home from work for only under an hour.
You nod, feeling a little embarrassed now that you finally brought it up. His belly is one of your favorite things about him. His little bit of squishy plush that you love to kiss and rub your face in, and nuzzle into when you lay your head on his lap. "Why my tummy?" He asks again, sliding his hands into his pockets and shrugging.
He looks so innocent, so cute. And his confusion is both turning you on even more and making you feel bad. You don't want to step out of a comfort zone you have worked so hard to build for the two of you, but you've also had a long day and just want to finally give in to your wants however greedy and self indulgent they may be.
"I'm-" you sigh, sitting back on Lars' bed. His sheets are perfectly made with hospital corners, a wild contrasts from how they looked when you two woke up this morning. "You know how I always..." you debate finishing your sentence, wondering if it's too vulgar to say straight to his face. "Lick your belly when you get cum on it?" You spit out, your cheeks turning hot as his do too.
He blinks hard, nodding.
You shake your head, dismissing it. "No, it's fine. Sorry. I'm just- I don't know I just like it I thought it would feel good. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll start on dinner."
Lars lays on the bed, stretching his legs out and pulling his sweater up to expose his belly. It softly rises and falls as it breathes, freckles and small hairs that lead down to his bulge. "It's okay." He gives you a tight lipped smile.
You're embarrassed now, realizing that his reluctantly was not because he was opposed to doing this for you, he just wanted to know why his belly out of the rest of him when he's been so willing to give himself to you.
You study his belly, a tiny roll, if you could even call is that, over where his belly button is. The little chub sticking out from his low hanging pants working you up even more.
"It's okay." He reassures, gently patting his belly like he does your spot in the bed when he wants to cuddle.
You let out a shaky breath, pushing your shorts down. You step out of them, and Lars looks at your heart printed underwear. "Those are pretty." He whispers, pointing to your panties while keeping his hands to his sides.
You thank him with a whispers, coming to straddle him.
You lean down, kissing him. Lars lips instantly warm to yours, slotting them with his top lip between yours.
You pull his sweater off, working the buttons of his shirt, and then pulling his pink undershirt off.
You slide your hands down his chest, admiring him. Your lips trail down his chest and to his belly, licking the stray hairs down straight.
You fumble around, trying to pull your panties down until Lars reaches out to help.
Lars places his hands on your thighs, watching you lower yourself onto his belly as you begin to softly grind. It's a torturous pleasure that climbs up your own belly, up your chest and creeps up your neck that sends tingles into your cheeks.
You can't tell if it really does feel this good to grind against his belly, or if you've been so worked up from daydreaming about his soft tummy all day.
The little hairs on his belly perfectly tickle your clit and make it feel even better to. You let out a shaky moan, sliding your hands up his arms, grabbing one of his wrists and sliding your hand into him to thread his fingers through yours.
"Is it okay?" You nod, unable to speak as your biggest fantasy has finally been fulfilled.
You've hesitated for months, rubbing your face into his belly, biting at the skin, licking it. You should've known Lars would give you what you want.
He watches his belly get sticky with you, and he's surprisingly not overwhelmed or bothered by the feeling. If anything, he likes it. He likes knowing a part of him that he's struggled with on and off is bringing you so much pleasure.
You grind down a little harder, biting your lip to stop the choked moan that's coming out.
You push your hair back, your head falling back as you get closer and closer to finishing. Usually you'd be embarrassed about finishing this fast, not that Lars is bothered by it.
Your hips speed up but grow sloppy, grinding harder so his little hairs tickle you more.
You grip his hand, white knuckling it as you cry out his name.
Once you cum on him you take a minute to regain your normal heart rate and breath.
You softly giggle, and he joins you, patting your back and rubbing it. He kisses you, and you let him before you slide down, licking his belly before unzipping his own pants.
this is my first ask so pls forgive me if this is confusing as hell or cringe! BUT what do you think would lars react to a possesive reader that is also vocal, like she is not hiding the fact that she is jelous at all! this one is like inspired on that tiktok audio "THATS MY BOYFRIEND GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM" (once again im sorry this though has been bugging my brain) 💜😖
Possessive!Reader x Lars Headcanons
Warning: jealousy, slight nsfw thoughts, reader being a bitch lowk (as she should)
Also never feel akward or wierd for asking! Im always down to do whatever and I love a little jealous reader. Like me too girl
Headcanons:
-Absolutely LOVES a vocal, jealous reader to death
-He has very low self esteem and I feel like he would constantly seek verbal reassurance to comfort himself. If you were vocal about how much you love him and how jealous you get over him, he would go CRAZY for it
-I'm talking possessive vocal too
-walking up to a girl who's talking to him and just going “he has a girlfriend!” all while wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. He would LOVE it so much, just blushing and stuttering as the person he was talking to is just standing there like ???
-Bonus points if you're vocal about it but also extremely touchy and clingy
-He would beam with pride every single time you forcefully introduced yourself as his girlfriend. Face just lit up in a bright smile as he nods happily before introducing you to whoever he's talking to
-He is so smitten with you and honestly would probably be the first one to say he has a girlfriend
-You probably don't even have to force yourself in situations most of the time because, trust me, he's already pulling you in first and going “this is my wonderful, beautiful, amazing girlfriend!”
-But when you do force yourself in he's so giddy
-“I'm his girlfriend! Hi, you should stop talking to him :)” “hehehe…. Isn't she so pretty and nice?”
-Meanwhile you're death glaring the girl who's trying to talk to him 😠
-I'd imagine he's also gets jealous based on how he reacted w/ Margo and Bianca
-he would be such a whiny pouty baby about it though
-Like you both belong to each other and both of you will make sure the other KNOWS
-he's more silent about his jealousy though, brewing silently in rage and picking as his skin until you give him the attention he wants and deserves
-“You're MY girlfriend….” “And your MY boyfriend”
-Both of you are just “I LOVE MY S/O SO MUCH DONT TALK TO ME!!! I WOULD NEVER CHEAT DONT EVEN LOOK AT ME!!!”
-He's quiet and you're loud about it- a perfect pair honestly
nsfw because I cant help myself:
-Show him how he belongs to you and only you and he's complete putty in your hands
-grab him by the arm at a party while some girl is talking to him and shove him in a secluded corner while cupping him through his jeans. oeeeuuuggghhhh he's cumming instantly and whining about how he belongs to you.
-“Oh baby. I'm yours! You know it's only you right? Nnngggh only you…” while you massage him, overstimulating him through his orgasm.
-Take him home afterwards and push him down on the bed before zipping his pants down and whipping out his flushed, dripping cock. You sit down on him, clenching him with your soaked walls as he just whines and cries about how good he always is for you.
-How he belongs only to you
-He cums inside of you, holding onto you desperately with his thick, strong arms as he seeks your approval
-Give him small kisses along his face as you praise him and his will be yours for LIFE
LITTLE BLURB:
You spot him across the room, a bright smile on his face as he talks to a woman. A woman you've never met before. A woman who is inching awfully close to your boyfriend with flirty eyes as she bites her lip seductively. A pang of anger makes its way through your body, igniting you in a heat of passion. It overwhelms your sensibilities and you find yourself stomping over before you can stop yourself, hands clenched and a prominent scowl etched onto your face. Lars sees you walking over, not recognizing the irritation flashing boldly in your eyes. He beams brightly and waves you over, motioning towards the woman in front of him.
It somehow just makes you angrier.
“This is my amazing girlfriend I was just telling you about,” the woman flinches as you approach, watching with thinly veiled anger as you wrap your hands around his arm and press yourself tightly into his side while you massage his thick muscles. To Lars, you two are just a new friend and his wonderful, beautiful girlfriend, but both of you know what it really is. A petty cat fight. He leans into your side more and smiles, looking down at you with pure love and adoration. “Isn't she just beautiful!”
“Uh…. Yeah I guess she is.”
You frown and press yourself even tighter against Lars, a hand inching up his chest as you massage his pectoral muscles.
Who does she think she is? Talking to your man?
You hum and lean closer to her, brows furrowing as you sneer, “hmmmm… and you are?” Her brows shoot up and she gapes, mouth opening and closing like a dumb fish right in front of you. You just shake your head and scoff loudly, forcing her to scramble to defend herself.
“Oh! I'm his coworker! He- he's talked so much about you, it's so nice to finally meet you in person!” She holds out a hand and you look at it, choosing to not shake it as you reply snarkily.
“Righttttt…. Just his coworker…..” She pulls back her hand and wipes it on her pants awkwardly. “Well! Me and my boyfriend..” you pause dramatically and look her up and down, “my boyfriend and I have to go. Right now. We have a really busy night planned at home! Alone. Just us two!” You grab his arm and pull him away, scowling at her one last time she gawks in disbelief. You two are going to go home and you're going to show him who he belongs to. To his absolute delight.
“We have plans at home?”
“Yeah, I'm gonna fuck the absolute hell out of you!”
