Did I Ask?

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?”

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

Well, until you had entered his life that is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, excpet for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet, according to Kurt, supposedly not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, sweet Jesus-"

Life on Erid was going well, extremely well, really. Alongside your newly added four legged friends, your little family was growing and with each new day on Erid, you began to realize the life you, alongside Simon and Grace, were building was everything you all could ever need or want. Everything was perfect and you honestly didn't think life could throw you anymore surprises than it already had.

Until today.

"Rocky." You said as you stood in the doorway, Simon and Grace behind you with curious expressions on their faces as they wondered why you suddenly stopped in the doorway. "Where did you get a baby?" You questioned, eyes wide as Rocky was standing just inches away from the entryway to the house, awkwardly holding the infant in his arms while Laika and Felicette investigated carefully; Laika with cautious sniffs as to not disturb the child while Felicette sat nearby on one of the tables, simply watching the interaction with a small flick of her tail.

"Rocky not know. Rocky found. Statement." Rocky replied, looking from the baby towards the three of you. You frowned, concern sudden coursing through your veins; That did not answer the question you asked and you knew if you were to ask any of the other questions you had swirling in your mind, you would be given the same answer of 'Rocky doesn't know'. You carefully walked forward as not to disturb the infant in Rocky's arms, lowering yourself into a crouch once you were close enough and with a tilted head, let your gaze wander over the infant. From an immediate glance, you noted it was a girl and as you squinted closer, you began to notice in some way, she looked like the perfect combination of you, Grace, and Simon. It was… Strange, to say the least.

"What do you mean you found it? Rocky you don't just find a baby. It had to have come from somewhere." Grace followed up Rocky's words with a statement as he came to stand behind you, leaning over to look at the baby in question and stopped when he noticed the same thing you did; A perfect combination of the three of you nestled in a blanket within Rocky's arms, fast asleep, content with the warmth seeping through the xenonite spacesuit the Eridian wore.

He found it extremely odd and began to wonder if the Eridians were somehow running some sort of top-secret-baby-making project out in the labs on Erid. They did have just about every biological document on the three of you that they would ever need after Grace's nutritional issue that you had provided them with but come on, would they really do something like that? Surely they would've talked to you all about something this big before going through with it, right?

"Rocky said what Rocky said! Rocky found, Rocky bring to Grace and mates to take care of like others!" Rocky explained yet again, stomping one of his feet against the ground. The baby twisted in his arms at the sudden noise, her eyes slowly opening and it had you all frozen to the spot, Laika included. As the baby blinked away the last remnants of sleep, she carefully looked around as to try and get an idea of her surroundings before her eyes landed on you and Grace, a small coo escaping her as she gently squirmed in Rocky's hold.

You and Grace were the most effected by the noise the small infant let out, your heart clenching in your chest as some form of parental instinct took over. Simon, meanwhile, moved to stand near Felicette with a frown on his face as he shifted uncomfortably. In some way, he thought the same thing that Grace did but with a small shake of his head, he dismissed the idea entirely. While you all couldn't explain where the infant came from, it unnerved him at the fact that it was still very obviously here somehow. This wasn't some dream he was having, it wasn't some hallucination either; Everything was very much real and he felt odd about it, even moreso at the fact you and Grace just seemed to accept that fact.

Yet as he watched you carefully pick up the infant from Rocky and properly hold her in your arms as you stood, Simon felt a new feeling blossom in his chest yet he couldn't put a finger on just what it was. It wasn't like he was feeling paternal, he was far from it; He never considered having kids, never thought about having a family of his own because of the sole fact he didn't think he'd be alive long enough to have one. Yet here he was, struggling with his feelings and emotions while you and Grace dotted on the small baby girl in your arms as if this was something you all had planned.

Eventually he made his way over, standing on your other side to get a better look at her. Once Simon came into view, the infant started at him with those wide, blue eyes. She went still, her mouth slightly parted and for a split second, Simon was afraid he scared her given the mutations that morphed his face and as he went to turn away, a small coo left her as she raised her hands up to him. You shifted your gaze to Simon, a small grin crossing your features as you held her out to Simon without another thought.

"Here. Hold her." You said and Simon froze. He looked nervous, scared even as he looked at the infant who was now gently kicking out her legs as she hung in the air before looking at you once more.

"Red, I really shouldn't. What if I hurt her?"

"You won't. I know you won't." You responded and as Simon looked past your shoulder to meet Grace's gaze, the blonde gave him a small, encouraging nod with a smile to match. Letting out a shaky breath, Simon reached out and with extreme care and caution, took the baby from your hands before he brought her closer to him. You moved to his side and instructed him on how to properly hold her; You were a medic after all, it was only right you knew how to care for babies as well as you did adults.

"There you go… See? It's not so bad, is it Butcher?" You teased Simon, digging out a title he no longer called himself. He gave you a small glare, wanting to chew you out for dragging that bit of information back from his past but before he could get a word out, he felt a small hand grasp at his shirt and gently tug. Simon looked down, swallowing hard as the baby began to babble, tugging at his shirt every so often as if trying to keep Simon's attention on her and not on you. You smiled at the interaction before you hummed lowly, shifting your weight as you put your hands on your hips.

"We're gonna have to name her." You brought up, looking between Simon and Grace; It was already obvious the child was staying regardless of how she arrived on Erid and if she did turn out to be some alien that would kill you all in your sleep? Well, you'd cross that bridge when it came to it.

"Names are hard." Grace said with a small sigh, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his blonde locks even more and as you turned to look at Grace, a small laugh left you in response.

"Yeah, we know. You name all the pebbles and Eridians based off the first thing that comes to your mind. I mean, come on, you literally named one Ramen!" You explained before you motioned to Rocky who was gently petting Laika nearby, completely oblivious to the conversation at hand. "You also named him Rocky because you said, and I quote, 'he looks like a rock'!"

"Hey! I can't help they look just like a pack of ramen! And I mean come on! Look at Rocky!" He complained, giving you a look as he also motioned to the Eridian nearby who turned his attention over to the duo in question, Laika looking over with a wag of her tail as she sat beside Rocky.

As the two of you continued to bicker over names, Simon kept his gaze locked onto the bundle of joy in his arms; He would adjust her to remain in his xenonite prosthetic before lifting his other hand so he was able to adjust the blanket she was wrapped in and as he did so, the infant would let go of his shirt to immediately take hold of his finger and Simon froze to the spot, his eyes wide. She would grip his finger with all the strength she could, continuing to babble about who knew what as she gently guiding his finger into her mouth without another word, gladly slobbering over it.

Simon swallowed hard again, a shaky breath escaping him as he felt tears prick the corners of his eyes; Fuck, what was wrong with him? He didn't even know where this thing came from, he didn't know how he should be feeling over this whole situation and here he was trying not to crying over her. It annoyed him and yet at the same time it brought him some sense of peace to know that there was still something this pure left in the universe. As he watched the little girl eventually remove his finger and babble once more with drool running down her chin, Simon hummed as he thought of a name while cleaning up her chin.

"Aurora."

You and Grace looked over, the bickering coming to an end as you raised an eyebrow towards Simon and the word that left his mouth. "Excuse me?"

"We could name her Aurora." Simon repeated before he began his explanation, looking up from the infant to you and Grace. "You know, like the aurora borealis?" He spoke as he shifted his stance, looking between the two of you as you and Grace looked back at one another.

"Aurora." Grace repeated the name before he smiled, looking back at the dark haired male. "I think we could work with that." Grace added on as he made his way over to Simon, leaning against him as he looked down at Aurora with a warm smile. "Whatcha think Aurora? You like it?" Grace questioned. The infant would look at Grace now, waving her arms as she babbled to the sound of the name. It had you smiling as you followed him over, standing beside Simon as you looked at her with a grin now.

"Well, welcome to the family, Aurora. Hope you're ready for a wild ride."

Beside the soft crashing of waves against the beachfront, the biodome was silent, peaceful even. The artificial 'sun' had long since set, the lights of the biodome cast dull until it began to simulate what would be considered night on Earth. The days activities had long since been put behind everyone as you, Simon, and Grace retired to bed, fast asleep against one another with your fellow four legged companions asleep in their own beds just off to the side in the bedroom you all shared. Nobody dared to move, the only other noise being that of the occasional snore or grunt from Grace or Simon as they slept.

Until the sounds of a cry rang out, breaking the once peaceful atmosphere.

A low groan escaped your throat as you buried your head deeper into Grace's chest, gripping at his shirt as you silently prayed to whatever entity was above that it would stop, that the issue would resolve itself but no, the crying continued in the other room.

"Whose turn is it…?" Simon grumbled from where he laid, his arm draped over his eyes now as he rolled onto his back.

"Last I recall… It's Grace's turn." You mumbled as you let go of his shirt, moving to sit yourself up in the bed as you as you rubbed at your eyes. A low whine escaped the blonde beside you as he rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into the pillow and began to complain, but it was very obviously muffled. Despite that, you shifted your gaze back to him, your eyes narrowed in response; You were all tired but when this all started, you all agreed to take turns whenever something happened late in the night.

"Ryland Grace." You began, your voice low and dangerous. Grace's back suddenly went tense, his body frozen before he sighed and rolled over, tossing the blanket off his frame as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He leaned over to the bedside table, reaching out to grab his glasses while also turning on the small lamp that resided there so he could see just where he was going.

Laika perked her head at the noise, her ear twitching as the light turned on and she let out a small yawn in response, getting to her feet and shaking her fur out to follow after Grace wherever he went. Felicette, on the other hand, continued to sleep in the makeshift cat tree she called her own, obviously not bothered by whatever was going on around her.

"Alright alright, I'm goin. No need to say my name like that." Grace spoke, quickly putting his glasses on as he got to his feet before he shuffled out of the room, Laika following close behind him. You kept your gaze on him as he left the room, giving a small nod of approval before you allowed yourself to collapse back onto the bed beside Simon with a small sigh, your hands moving up to your face to rub at it once more. Simon moved his arm off his face once he heard you hit the bed, shifting around so he was laying on his side before he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. A small noise escaped you as you moved your hands away to look up at him.

"It was nice while it lasted… We got, what? Five hours of sleep this time before she cried?" You questioned as you looked back at the clock on the wall before looking up at him once more. He only hummed, his head resting on top of yours as his eyes slowly began to shut again.

"If we sleep now, we can try to make it six." He grumbled, a small laugh escaping you as you nuzzled against him with a small noise of content.

"We could… But I don't think Grace would survive the hour by himself with not only Aurora, but Laika too." You spoke, trying your hardest to keep yourself awake despite the warmth that radiated from Simon. He always ran hot, so he was the go to for heat whenever you were feeling cold. When it came to the nights when the biodome suddenly ran cold, you and Grace often fought for who slept against him until you would settle for him sleeping in the middle. Somehow though, you always found yourself waking up in his place while he slept in your own spot in the morning or sometimes ended up in Grace's place. It was a weird thing that happened and you all eventually just stopped questioning it.

Just as quickly as the crying began it subsided and before long, Grace made his way back into the bedroom with the reason for the crying in his arms; Your daughter, Aurora. After several hesitant nights and many medical examinations done by you, you three began to realize she was in fact not an alien with the intent on killing you all and was in fact just a baby which relived you in some parts but began to bring about a new set of worries. Like the fact that you three were now basically parents raising a child on an alien planet that you yourselves were still getting used too with a set of pets that in technicality, should be dead, yet they weren't.

You looked over upon hearing him return and as relucent as you were to leave Simon's arms, you did so as you sat up in the bed, your back against the headboard of the bed as Simon shifted beside you, resting his head on his palm to watch the engagement.

"Is she okay?" You questioned, watching Grace as he sat himself on the edge of the bed and held out the infant to you who was wrapped up in her blanket, her small chubby hands reaching towards Grace as she cooed quietly before realizing she was being passed off and turned her attention to you.

"Yeah, she's alright. She stopped crying as soon as she saw me walk in the room." Grace informed you as you carefully took the baby in your arms, reaching out your finger for her to grab before you hummed lowly, adjusting her accordingly as you gave her a small, scolding look that you knew deep down you didn't mean at all.

"You know you're becoming more of an issue each night, young lady. Some of us need to sleep and it's hard to do that when you keep crying." You scolded her even though you knew she wouldn't understand a lick of what you were saying. Instead, she simply watched you with those blue eyes, a small giggle escaping her as you gently waved her small hand around with just the motion of your finger. Grace had moved himself back into bed now, getting comfortable beside you as a yawn escaped him.

"I think… She just wanted to sleep with us." He commented as he took his glasses off, putting them back on the bedside table and once he noticed Laika had returned to her bed, turned the light off. The room fell into darkness but the 'moonlight' that shined outside easily fell through the curtains of the window, casting the room in a pale blue glow. You could very easily see everything around you and you watched closely as Aurora babbled a bit longer though her eyes were already starting to close with the help of the sudden darkness that filled the room.

"Yeah, seems like it." Simon spoke quietly as not to disturb Aurora, his eyes never leaving the baby in your arms. You smiled as you felt her hand slowly release your finger, her arms falling against herself as you adjusted how you were sitting; Your back was still against the headboard but this time you went ahead and adjusted Aurora so she now rested comfortably against your chest with one of your hands resting on her back, your thumb gently rubbing at her back to ensure she fell into a deep sleep. As her small fingers gripped your shirt, both Grace and Simon moved accordingly so they could still be touching you in some way. Simon's arm was laced around your waist while Grace was resting his head against your shoulder, watching Aurora with his own tired eyes.