ɪʟᴜʀᴋᴇʀ

Luke’s job is pretty straightforward. And he’s been doing it for as long as he can remember.

When being a stunt rider for the carnival wasn’t cutting it anymore, he had to find something else to keep himself afloat. For Luke, jobs that required basic thug shit came easy considering the skill set he had. He found out pretty quickly that cracking skulls and busting knees were what he was good at.

But that barely scratches the surface of what he actually does for work. It pays well mostly because he offers his clients a wide variety of assistance. And to put it briefly, Luke provides services with his body, and he gets paid handsomely for it.

Though it generally depends on the work he’s been hired to do. Most of the time it’s the usual bodyguard shit, something he’s more familiar with, but Luke thinks it’s just glorified babysitting. He feels that he should be above looking out for a grown-ass man or woman, but then again, it pays well. And when Luke’s being told to do protection services for a rich man’s wife and she later asks if she could suck his cock for an extra tip is the only fun thing about it.

Which is another thing entirely.

Luke isn’t the one to boast, but he knows he’s hot shit. Because if he’s not, the wives of his clients wouldn’t be throwing themselves at him. And he wasn’t called “Handsome Luke” during his carnival days for nothing. 

It started when he was hired to be a bouncer at a club for a week or two. When a dancer tried getting in his pants during his break, Luke decided to give it a little twist.

“Are you paying for it?”

“What?” The woman, who introduced herself as Britney, raised a brow. “Why the hell would I be paying for it?”

“Well, you dance on dudes for money. You’re basically asking me to fuck you during my unpaid break, when I should be resting instead,” Luke reasoned with a smirk on his face. “I figured you’d understand, considering it’s the same principle. Business is business.”

But Luke knew Britney was one of the highest paid dancers in the club. She got the ass and the tits for it. So she really didn’t mind throwing a couple bucks on Luke’s request and rode his dick until she was satisfied. 

And while Luke never thought about making the whole sex thing his only source of income, he did get a lot more customers there than his gangster jobs. Usually from old and desperate married women who couldn’t get the treatment they want from their husbands because their dicks no longer work. But Luke always makes sure to mention that there’s an additional fee if they want him to act like he’s their husband too.

But if there are old married women wanting his services, there are also the old men who want to fulfill their little fantasies with their wives. The cuckold ones who want to have their small dick shamed while Luke’s got his own cock deep inside their wife. Luke stopped questioning people’s fantasies a long time ago. And if the guy wants Luke to stick his schwanz inside him too, then that’s another fee they need to be informed about.

This is also a great time to mention that he never fucks raw.

He can’t have little Lukes running around town when he literally fucked almost half the population of it.

Luke could only thank Britney for being his first ever client after she advertised his huge dick around town when they fucked. He doesn’t mind pimping himself out as long as it keeps him from going back to that trailer he used to live in. He doesn’t mind dealing with all sorts of clients if they’re going to fucking pay for it.

What he’s not used to is someone boldly doubting and questioning his skillset in his face.

“Excuse me?” Luke can’t help but ask, barely masking the surprise written across his face. “What did you just say to me?”

The dive bar near his shabby apartment is where he spends his time when he’s bored. Luke watches soccer occasionally, pretending to be interested, but at least it takes his mind off things. They also serve cheap drinks and awesome nachos, and he hooked up with the owner a few times for a round of free alcohol. 

So Luke pretty much knows what to expect from this place.

Which is why he’s caught off guard when a young woman approached him and asked if his dick was really huge as they say.

Said young woman certainly didn’t mind repeating the question.

“Is your dick really huge?” You ask again, with that same genuine expression on your face. Luke knows it’s genuine because he’s been asked that question a lot of times, but this is the first time ever that someone looks genuinely… curious. “I really want to know because I don’t want to waste a few bucks. I mean, I’ve been told you give great services but I want like, reassurance first before I actually give you my money.”

Oh.

It’s an inquiry.

“But wait. You’re Luke Glanton, right? Sorry, I should’ve asked first. That was probably very rude.”

“And very weird. You usually don’t go around asking men if their dick is huge. Some of them wouldn’t react as kindly as I did,” Luke grins as he shrugs. “They might take offense.”

“... But you’re Luke Glanton?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

Luke takes his time inspecting you, from head to toe. He thinks you’re not his usual client, so maybe his market is finally expanding? About time. Not that he’s getting sick of fucking older women and occasionally men – but it’s good to have younger ones on the side too.

Actually, you don’t look like his type at all. Luke notes that you’re cute and you look like jailbait, and your sweet perfume isn’t really his type but it works.

Personally, Luke prefers the long legged, confident women. The ones with the dangerous red lipstick and a smirk he’d wipe off their faces with his dick. The women in corporate who didn’t mind throwing money if it meant Luke would get to praise them for being a good girl.

But this works.

“I’m asking for your…” you trail off, and Luke raises a brow. “... services? I thought that was already pretty obvious. You should really improve your customer service.”

“I offer a lot of services, you have to be very specific.”

“But I did ask for your dick.”

Luke cracks a grin. You’re funny. He wishes you would talk less, though.

“Alright, you got me. Are you looking for anything specifically? Aside from my dick, of course.”

“Can I have the full package?” you ask bluntly, and really, Luke respects it in a way. “I can afford it. I sorta… saved up for it. Because my friend recommended you and said you could really help me have a good experience.”

“Your friend,” Luke repeats. “Do I happen to know this friend of yours?” Because he might have fucked them already as far as he’s concerned. But again, you’re on the young side. And Luke mainly fucks older people. So your friend must be fucking geriatric.

“Not really. But her mom was your client once.”

Well, that’s fucking bizarre.

But not the weirdest Luke has ever heard. So he shrugs it off like nothing and goes back to take another sip of his beer.

“Do you want to know her name?”

“Not really.”

“Okay,” you say in a quiet tone. “So… Can I get the full package then? And can I also know what it includes now?”

Luke raises a brow again. “Now?”

“Yes, what do we usually do? I don’t think you’re doing a good job selling yourself. Shouldn’t the customers know what they’re paying for first? And you don’t really sound very enthusiastic. Maybe this is a bad idea after all —”

“Whoa.” Luke is quick to grab your wrist when you’re about to slide off the stool and walk away. “Where the fuck are you going?” 

You scrunch your nose as you try to pull your arm away. “I’m leaving. Like I said, you don’t look excited. If I’m boring you now, I’ll probably bore you later during sex.”

He breathes loudly through his nose. Young girls. Always so insecure. But luckily Luke knows just how to butter you up. After all, he’s not about to let money walk away from him. That’s not the type of person he is.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I was distracted. You have my full attention now. Full package, was it? You wanted to know what’s included?”

“Yes,” you deadpan.

“Well, why don’t I show you instead? That’s what you’ll be paying for, right?” Luke grins, squeezing his fingers slightly around your wrist. He then pulls your stool closer to him until the two of you are almost touching. “I don’t usually tell my clients what I’m going to do to them in bed. I like to surprise them.”

Luke sees you frowning. It’s cute. The way your nose scrunches up, almost like a cat.

“I don’t really like surprises.”

“But this is a good surprise, though. Don’t you think?” 

When it takes more than a few seconds for you to respond, Luke wraps an arm around your waist instead. It makes you gasp a little, but you don’t pull away. Just gives him a weird, cautious look that he sort of respects a little bit. Usually women (and men occasionally) would be throwing themselves to him. But you’re being cautious. It’s a good thing.

“What’s your name?” he finally asks, and he smiles when you say it politely. “Pretty name. But I’d rather call you baby. Or sweetheart. Or my good girl –”

Luke snaps his head to the side when the bartender named Mark knocks on the counter.

“Not here, dude. We’ve got customers around.”

He finds that mildly offending considering Luke is the one that brings the customer around in the first place. But he doesn’t say anything, because he’s got a cute girl hanging on his arm.

Instead, Luke turns his attention back to you who looks flustered by the sudden acknowledgement.

“Seems like they want us out. Do you want to get out of here, baby? Don’t worry, I’ll pay for the motel. Only because you’re cute.”

*

The man who works at the front desk knows Luke, and he knows why he’s here.

He just tosses him the key for the room without looking up from the k-drama he’s watching, and he knows Luke will pay the next day – he always does.

Luke has your hand in his as he drags you to the second floor and the last room of the hall.

“Have you been here before?” you ask meekly as you look around the area.

“I’m here every other week, sweetheart,” Luke says as he pushes the door open. “It’s cheap and it gets the job done.”

He gets out of the way so you can enter first, and he watches as you cautiously look around the room. Luke has suspicions that you’re a rich kid. Maybe with strict parents, because you mentioned something about saving up for this kind of nonsense. But honestly, he’s not quite sure. Luke is certain this is the first time he’s fucking someone your age, though.

Speaking of.

“Hey, I probably should’ve asked you this earlier. But how old are you?”

You turn to look at him with surprised eyes. “Oh, I’m 20. Just turned 20 last month.”

“Oh, great,” Luke sighs in relief. Definitely the youngest one he will ever fuck. But he guess there’s a first time for everything, right? “You ever done this before?”

“Seeking out a prostitute?”

“Well, that too,” he points out. “But like, sex in general?”

It takes a tad bit longer for you to answer. Longer than necessary. And Luke raises a brow in suspicion. 

“You had sex before, right?” he asks again.

Again, silence. In fact, you’re even avoiding his eyes like a guilty dog.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“Does that matter?” you pout. “You’re good at this, you know what to do. That’s why I’m paying you.”

Jesus Christ.

Luke has personally never handled a virgin before. And honestly, he really should’ve expected something like this already. Considering how bashful you’re being. But then again, there are virgins out there who act freakier than him. That’s why Luke’s never been the one to judge a book by their cover.

“I’ve never fucked a virgin before, that’s all.”

You squint at him. “I don’t believe that. You’ve lost your virginity yourself too, haven’t you?”

“Well, I lost it to someone who wasn’t a virgin. So technically I wasn’t fucking a virgin.”

“Do you want to get paid or not?”

Mouthy.

And if Luke isn’t a literal slave for money, he probably would’ve said no to your bratty ass. He rarely comes across one. But when he does, it comes with a challenge that leaves his dick satisfied. So he guesses it’s all good.

In two wide strides, Luke is crossing the room and towering over you. He finds it quite cute that you have to crank your neck up just to fully look at him, and he brings his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. Such a simple action and you’re already trembling like a leaf.

“Is there anything I can’t do to you before we start?”

“None. Do whatever you want with me.”

Luke can’t help but grin. “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer then. And that’s good. Because quite frankly, he’s getting tired from how mouthy you’re being. The only sounds he wants to hear from women’s mouths are the ones when he’s stuffing them full of his cock, brain rendered blank and drooling mindlessly on the pillow.

Luke finally leans down to capture your lips to his, and he pulls you close to his body as he wraps his hands around your waist. Turns out, you’re not as stubborn now as you were an hour ago in the bar when you’re getting kissed like this. You’re quick to submit yourself and melt into his arms as Luke deepens the kiss.

He brings his hand on your neck, then he slides it up until he’s gripping your hair roughly, keeping your head in place as he licks open your lips. You immediately get the memo and open your mouth, and Luke immediately shoves his tongue inside.

Luke can hear the kiss when he tilts his head. It’s wet and messy, and there’s already drool spilling over the two of you. It’s clear that you have no idea what you’re doing, mindlessly letting your tongue clash with his while your hands desperately grip his shirt.

And when he pulls away, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. Luke leans closer to lick it away while you scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Don’t tell me that’s your first kiss too.” 

“My first kiss was better than that,” you say with a hint of smirk on your face. 

“I’m sure it was,” Luke hums. He then takes a hold of the end of your shirt and quickly pulls it off you. He whistles at the sight of your bra, holding a sizable flesh of tits right on his face. Beautiful. Breathtaking. He’s certain he’ll never get tired of the sight of boobs ever. Luke is quick to squeeze it through the fabric and watches as you squirm and whimper in front of him. “I want to fuck your tits. But maybe we can do it later.”

“Fuck my – how will that work?” you ask in genuine curiosity.

“I’ll slot my cock between those beautiful tits of yours and I’ll paint your face with my cum,” Luke deadpans, then he pushes you on the bed that you bounce slightly on the mattress. He slides his fingers on the edge of your pants, and he pulls it off in one swift movement, leaving you  in just your underwear now that’s not going to last long – because Luke is pulling that away too.

And almost immediately, he smells the scent of sweet, untouched pussy in the air. And his cock has never been so hard before. When Luke spreads your legs open, his mouth dries up upon seeing your bare cunt in front of him.

“What?” you ask, voice a little shaky from embarrassment. “Is it ugly? I waxed before I went to you.”

“Why would you do that?” Luke tilts his head. “I love me some thick bush.”

“So it’s ugly?”

“No, I love all sorts of pussies, don’t worry,” he reassures her as he gently caresses your thighs. “Your cunt is fucking beautiful. Just been awhile since I last saw a bald one.”

Surprisingly, that cracks you up. And Luke finally hears a giggle falling from your lips. It’s cute. 

“Take off your bra, too. I wanna see the girls.”

You obediently reach behind you and unclasp your bra. Luke watches with a grin on his face as your tits finally flow free. He brings his hands to cup both of them and uses his thumb to play with your perky nipples. 

“T-They’re sensitive,” you whimper loudly. “Do you wanna… suck on them? I heard it feels good. Wanna try it out.”

Well, he wouldn’t have to be told twice.

Luke leans down and wraps his lips around your right nipple, and he sucks roughly. He sucks until your back is arching under him, lips licking around your areola before diving back in to suck and nip gently at your nipple. Then Luke turns to the other one and does the same, until his spit is dribbling down to your belly and you’re itching away from the assault of his mouth.

When he pulls away to see your reaction, he sees that already fucked out expression on your face that he’s familiar with. But this early on? Fucking hot. 

“How’s that, baby? You love getting your pretty tits played with?”

You only nod with your bottom lip in between your teeth. Not good enough. 

Luke brings his hand down to smack your left tit, and you squeal like a pig.

“Words, sweetheart. I want to hear it.”

“Yes! Yes, Luke, I-I love getting my t-tits played with,” you sniffle, and he smiles. Good.

“That’s better.” He gives your nipple a pinch and laughs cruelly when you yelp in surprise. 

Luke pulls away to start unbuckling his belt. His eyes never leave yours as he yanks it out and throws it on the floor. But before he gets rid of his pants, he gets rid of his shirt first, baring himself in front of you and shivering slightly when the cold air hits his chest. Luke also doesn’t stop you when you sit up, a hand reaching to touch his chest and stomach, your surprisingly short nails digging into his skin.

“You like what you see?” he asks teasingly.

“You’re… really hot,” you say quietly, hand going further down until your fingers are just nestled on the thatch of hair around his belly button and disappearing down into his pants. “And hairy.”

“You should see the big guy.”

You give him a weird look and he pushes your hand away. Luke then shoves his own hand inside his pants, and he fishes out his hardening cock to show it to you. He’s still not fully hard yet, just barely getting there, but he can already feel himself heavy in his palm and leaking slightly on the tip. Luke holds it on the base as he points it directly at you – something he noticed that women loved from his years of doing it. And when he pans his eyes to look at you, as expected, you might as well be drooling like the rest.

“Is that – wow, that’s… really thick…” you trail off, eyes never leaving his dick. “You’re not fully hard yet, right? Is it going to get bigger?”

“Yeah,” Luke grins. “You like it? This is what you’re going to be paying for, isn’t it? The first words you uttered to me were about my giant cock.”

“I just never expected it to be that big.”

“This isn’t even the biggest it’s going to get,” he deadpans. “You’re going to have to wait for that. So for the meantime…”

Luke grabs your legs and pushes them up in the air, baring you outright naked in front of him. And he doesn’t miss the way your face twists in a sudden surprise, but Luke doesn’t wait to admire it. 

He immediately dips his head down and latches his mouth upon your cunt, and he sucks. He keeps a tight hold on your thighs, his nails digging into your skin as he hears the loudest whimper he’s ever heard a woman makes.

Virgins, Luke thinks. Probably the first time having her cunt touched too, much less eaten. But nonetheless, Luke delivers what he always does. What he knows he’s good at.

He alternates between sucking and licking on your clit, just at the right pace. Not too fast, not too slow. Luke can feel your slick already dripping down his chin, and he finally fucks his tongue inside your tight little cunthole and buries his nose down mound.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the smell of pussy.

“Fuck — Luke, that feels — oh, god… oh god, that feels so good —”

Luke hums loudly, making sure you feel the vibration on your pussy. He lets your fingers pull at his hair, and that only motivates him to fuck you with his tongue faster. 

He drools all over your hungry hole. He can feel your warm walls clenching around his tongue. And he curls it to get all the slick from the source itself. Luke can feel himself getting harder as the seconds go by, and he can’t help but grind his cock slightly on the mattress.

“G-God, that — that kinda t-tickles — oh fuck — yes, yes —”

Luke pulls away to look at your face. It’s twisted in pure arousal and excitement, and your hands are pushing him back down to your hungry cunt that’s winking at him and clenching around nothing for more. He pulls back slightly to spit directly on your clit, and lets it dribble down your ridiculously tight opening and down your asshole.

“Luke, come on,” you whine loudly, trying to push his head down again, but Luke doesn’t relent. “Please continue. I want — your tongue again. Please?”

“You want it where?”

You pout and Luke smirks. How adorable. 

“Tell me where. Go on,” he says. “Tell me you want my tongue again in your tight little pussy. Go on. Say it.”

“I’m not saying that —”

“Then you’re not getting it.”

When Luke goes to pull away, he laughs when you make sure to keep a rough hold onto his hair. You’re pulling it like a child, and he presses his cheek against your inner thigh with his hand caresses your hips.

“It’s embarrassing,” you say quietly, clearly ashamed. But that’s never been something Luke acknowledges when he’s fucking someone on the bed. If you’re not being shameful and not putting your heart into it, what’s the point? You were already moaning like you didn’t give a shit about the people possibly being next door.

“It’s hot,” Luke notes, giving you a cocky grin that he knows always works for other women. He’s not surprised when you bite your lip and look away, finally saying the words he’s been dying to hear.

“Please… put your tongue in my p-pussy…”

Luke’s cock has never throbbed so hard in his life before. Maybe it’s because you’re cute. Maybe it’s because you’re a virgin and this is the first sexual experience you’ve had in your life. Maybe it’s because he loves the way your cunt looks stretched around his fat fingers, and the way you moan with no shame and throw your pretty head back.

“Not quite my tongue yet but fuck me…” Luke whispers. “You’ve got the tightest little cunny I’ve ever come across.”

He pulls out his wet fingers and replaces them with his mouth. Finally. And Luke spends the next two minutes coaxing out your first orgasm of the night by smearing his lips and nose all over your sopping wet clit, acting as if he’s making out with it while keeping his eyes locked on your face

Luke uses his fingers to finally fuck you over the edge. Your legs wrap around his head and push him down to suck harder onto your clit. And when he curls his fingers in, he feels you squeezing around and squealing like a fucking pig.

Luke begins humping the mattress, his cock rubbing raw on the blanket bundled up beneath him. And he can feel his dick leaking like a fucking faucet. When he pulls away to sit up, he takes a moment to admire you out of breath. 

“Your poor cunny looks prettier when she’s all puffy like this,” Luke smirks as he reaches down to deliver a smack right on your quivering pussy. You jolt and instinctively close your legs, but Luke smacks your thigh too. “Keep them open. We’re just getting to the good part.”

He sees you looking down to glance at his cock, and he cracks a grin when you grimace.

“That thing won’t fit.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Use something else.”

“I thought you wanted the full package?” Luke raises a brow, and he grabs your ankle when you try to crawl away. “Don’t go anywhere. I promise you that when I fuck you full of this dick, you won’t go looking around for something else.”

You can only whimper. Most girls do. And guys, don’t forget. Some of them would always act so brave and confident, but cry like a baby for a bottle when Luke’s screwing them down into the mattress. It’s hot, though. Luke can’t complain.

“Are we going to do it now? You don’t want me to…” you lick your lips. “You know… suck your uh —”

“My dick?”

“Yeah.”

“Next time,” Luke grins. Before he fully gets rid of his pants, he fishes for the spare condom in his wallet. They probably should’ve stopped somewhere first before they got here, but alas, he’s not about to run to some gas station when his cock is hard enough to knock down bricks on the wall.

When he sees you looking curiously at the package, he hands it over with a knowing smile on his face.

“You wanna put it on?”

“... Magnum XL…” you read the packaging quietly. And as if a surge of pride, Luke’s own dick twitches against his stomach. 

“I know it’s big, stop wasting any more time. Put it on.”

You obey without another word. Maybe it’s because you’re scared. Luke imagines that’s probably the case. You’re a virgin, after all. And not to mention the fact that Luke has also never fucked a virgin before.

He’s just… going to be less aggressive, that’s all.

Luke holds himself at the base while you put on the rubber plastic over his girth. You give him a quick stroke to test it out, and he watches as you slowly lean your head closer to press a chaste kiss on the head of his cock.

“How fucking cute,” Luke chuckles, petting your hair. “You gotta kiss it better first because you know how I’d fucking struggle stretching that cunt of yours, hm?”

You scrunch your nose. “You need to learn how to be less vulgar.”

“I’m a male escort. It’s what I do.”

Luke doesn’t wait for whatever it is that you have to say next. He flips you over on your hands and knees, and he positions himself behind you, taking aim of his dick to rub your clit with the fat, mushroom head of it. 

“It’s not — I’m scared, Luke. I don’t think it’s going to —”

“Shhh,” he says, reaching over to insert his fingers in your mouth. “Just relax. Let me do all the work. Relax your pussy when I head in. It’s going to hurt, but just relax.”

Luke really doesn’t want to comfort a crying virgin. But he doesn’t want to be an asshole. And what if you rate him with 2 stars after this and tell the experience to everybody. That’ll only ruin his great image.

So Luke slowly eases his cock in. Once the thick head finally slides its way in, everything else will go in smoothly.

“That’s right…” Luke coos when you keen and fist the sheets. “Biiig stretch.”

Your mouth is muffled, but he knows what you’re saying.

It’s big.

It’s a tight fucking fit.

“I know, I know,” he says through gritted teeth. Because fucking hell. His dick feels like it’s being choked to death. When he knows half of him is finally inside your snug little cunt, he prepares you for the worst part by pressing a soft kiss on your nape. That’s when he drives deep and shoves his whole dick inside you.

He throbs harder when you scream around his fingers, and he’s fucking lucky you didn’t bite them off. You just try to buckle your hips away, but Luke keeps you close to him, not letting you go anywhere far.

Luke keeps his cock buried deep inside you, and he takes a moment to regain his senses. He eventually pulls his fingers away and hears you letting out a pathetic sob as your face falls on the mattress.

Ah fuck.

How did you figure out this is his favorite position, really?

“It hurts, Luke —” you sniffle.

“Only at first,” he reassures while he keeps a hold of your hips. “Relax your muscles. You’re clenching, that’s why it hurts.”

“It hurts!” you argue loudly, but that soon crs. acks when Luke moves slightly and you scream. “Ah — slow down!”

Luke is reminded once again why he doesn’t fuck virgins.

He simply doesn’t have the patience for this.

But he’s nice today. He’s not an asshat. So he goes slow.

He drives his cock real nice and slow, only hearing your wordless little whimpers and moans. When you try to muffle it with the sheets, Luke pulls at your hair to hear you better.

“Don’t be shy to make a sound,” Luke reminds you. “I want the whole building to know who’s breaking in your pussy like this.”

“Stop — being so vulgar —” you choke out, and Luke can only laugh at you. “M-My pussy — it doesn’t — ah, slow down — it hurts! It’s big! Slow down!”

“I am slow,” Luke says with a small grin on his face. He rolls his hips forward slowly, enjoying the sloppy sounds that your cunthole is making as he slides in and out, the slowest he’s ever fucked someone in his life. “What were you saying? Your pussy what? It hurts? Does it?”

“Ah — it’s sensitive!” you whine. 

“Poor baby,” he says, fake pouting. “But your poor little dripping pussy is so wet. Surely you won’t be able to blame me if I just —”

Luke doesn’t give you any more time to adjust.

He finally fucks deep, relishing the wet sound of his meaty cock sloshing in your cunt, and he begins jackhammering the shit out of you into the mattress.

“Luke —” you squeal out his name. But that squeal quickly turns into a scream. And when Luke grinds his hips against your ass, feeling his fat balls slamming against your sopping clit, you try to run your ass away but fail. “Ah — ah, ah, please — oh fuck — shit — it’s so big —”

“Yeah? You love it?” Luke grins through his sweat. “Tell me you fucking love it.”

“I — oh, Luke… Oh, fuck — oh, shit — fuck —” you moan pathetically, clenching around his dick as you try and buckle your hips away. “It feels so huge — I love it — I love it, Luke! I love being…. Ah… filled like this! Your cock! I love your cock —”

“Damn fucking right you do.”

Luke leans down to turn your head around slightly to press a wet kiss on your lips. 

“More, more, more, please — please, Luke —”

“I knew you’d come around,” Luke grins. And then, he fucks you harder. 

Luke fucks you until you’re clenching the sheets with your fist. He hammers his hairy cock down, until you’re pushing back against him by yourself, poor little clit dripping with pure satisfaction from being fucked full of him.

“Yeah, that’s right… work that pussy on my cock… show me how good you feel — oh fuck… yeah. She’s so fucking wet,” Luke croons. “Your kitty must be so fucking happy that I’m the first one to break her in, huh? God, you’re such a slut for it. Your first fat cock and you already know your fucking way around.”

“Y-Yeah… it feels so good, Luke… feels so good i-inside me…” you drool. Luke swears if he can see your face now, your eyes are rolling at the back of your head. It’s just one of the downsides of fucking doggy-style. But he doesn’t have to see it to know it. “My… pussy is so — happy. I’m gonna — I feel weird, Luke… my pussy feels like — oh… oh fuck… oh shit….”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Luke groans. And honestly, he can’t take it anymore. The moment he feels your hot walls squeezing him dry, he pulls himself out and rips the condom off and throws it on the ground. You fall on the mattress on your front, twitching and convulsing from your orgasm. 

Luke takes himself in hand at the thick root of his dick, and he starts fucking his fist with a sweaty plap-plap-plap, his hand becoming a blur from the speed of it. And finally, he moves quick to flip you over on your back to aim his cock directly at you and shoot his load right onto your perfect fucking face. 

Luke groans loudly, feeling his balls pulling at the sensation as he slows down from fisting his hairy cock. White ribbons of semen are shooting out of his slit and onto your brow and lashes, and it’s a good thing you have your eyes closed, otherwise that would’ve been a big problem.

And when you finally do open your eyes, you lick your lips at the sight of him. 

Slut.

“Fuck…” is really the only thing Luke can say. He’s never come that fast before. That’s a new record. But then again, it mostly has to do with the fact that it was an untouched, virgin pussy.

Not anymore, it seems.

Luke moves to reach down and see the condition of your cunt. And he wants to salivate upon seeing it all puffy and sore and slightly gaping because of him. Not to mention the light streak of blood smeared all over your cunt lips and clit.

When he glances up to meet your eyes, he sees that you’re dipping your fingers onto his load and licking them clean.

“You’re a real fucking freak for a virgin,” Luke comments, and he smirks when he sees a glint in your eyes. “You wanna go again?”

You only raise a brow. 

“... Is there an additional fee if I want it raw?”

the sun made it's way through the slats of your bedroom blinds in the morning time of your special day. your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the light. you turned on your side to where your husband slept, but you were met with an empty space. your brows furrowed slightly as you sat up, looking around the room. your eyes stopped on something at the bottom of the bed - a pink flower, with a little sticky note on the stem. you picked the flower up with the delicacy it called for, and read the note attached to it.

"happy birthday, lovebug. come downstairs when you wake up :)"

you smiled gently and pulled yourself up out of bed. you kicked your feet into a pair of slippers and made your way down the stairs to find your husband.

you found lars in the kitchen, surrounded by balloons in your favourite colours, a large gold foil '21' balloon behind him. across the table was breakfast from your favourite place. you also noticed a series of dishes on the counter and the distinct smell of vanilla honey air freshener, suggesting that he'd tried and failed to make something for you himself before he went out and bought you breakfast instead.

lars was stood in a cozy sweater, the one you loved most, with a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands and a sweet smile on his face as he saw you enter the room.

"there's my girl... happy birthday, bug." he spoke softly to you, not wanting to be too noisy in case you weren't fully awake yet.

you smiled brightly, your heart melting at the sight of the effort he'd put into making your day special. you made your way over to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm as you leaned up on your toes to kiss his cheek. he still had to lean down slightly for you. a rosy tint crept over his cheeks and nose at the feeling of your lips. it'd been a long road, but lars was getting better at accepting your touch more often. he was okay with soft kisses and gentle touching, and cuddling at night became a must for him faster than you'd have expected. you still had a long way to go with him, but you were much further than you used to be with him.

"thank you, my love. you did all this?"

lars nodded with a slight nervousness.

"is this- do you like it? i hoped you would..."

his nerves made you melt. god, he was such a sweetheart.

"i love it. this was so sweet of you, lars, thank you."

he smiled happily at your response. he held the flowers out to you, which you carefully accepted.

"i already cut the stems and everything for you. they just need water."

you motioned for him to lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before moving to grab a vase for your flowers. you placed them in the water and set them on the table in the sun. they looked so beautiful there, but lars was too distracted by how beautiful his wife was. slightly messy bed hair, cute pj's and slippers, he was obsessed with what god had blessed his life with. he worshipped you more than god.

he watched as you sat at the table, looking lovingly at your pretty flowers, and before he could convince himself it'd hurt, he was on his knees looking up at you. your eyes left the flowers and met his own in slight confusion.

"what're you doing down there?"

"i... i wanna worship you... give you a birthday treat... is- is that okay...?" he asked with the nerves of a lost puppy. he was so cute.

"wh... are you sure, baby? i don't wanna hurt you if it's too much..." you expressed your concern gently, not pushing him away if that's what he wanted, but ensuring he knew you weren't expectant of anything that'd cross his boundaries. he smiled slightly, that cute little curve of his mouth, and nodded.

"i want to..."

Not only did he get attention and praise constantly, but he got to be next to you. Kissing and loving you, praising the ground you walked on. It was simple symbiosis. A perfect system of give and take, responsibility shared equally between each member.

That's how he ends up here every single night, slumped against the couch as your hands explore and feel his bare shoulders and chest. With every stroke of your thumb, and every pinch of your fingers, he's groaning and whining loudly, eyes rolled back in bliss. The leather couch is cold against his hot, sweaty back, sticking to him like a second skin as his chest begins to heave.

Goodness, he loves it. The feeling of your skin against his.

Lips trail against his ear, a feather light tickly that sends goosebumps careening down his arms. The pulse of your breath pounds in his veins, mixing with the steady thrum of his heartbeat. A shared melody in between the both of you, the slow tune of lust. Desperate, his head turns towards yours, his lips ghosting over your lips as he begs and whines for more contact.

Contact that you don't give.

Instead you pull back, hand squeezing at his shoulders before sliding down and cupping his pectoral. It's so thick, so juicy under your prying fingers and you can't help but to wantonly moan at the skin and muscles flexing underneath you. Ken whines loudly and his head slams back against the seat before he leans up and chases your lips with his.

“Mmmm, so desperate,” you oblige for a moment, pressing your lips innocently against his, relishing in the way he presses in for more. “So needy, sweet boy.”

“P-please!”

With a smirk you pull away, your fingers pinching at a perky nipple before you stand up, walking away without a word. He's so easy to tease.

~

That's a frequent occurrence, you feeling him up and making him horny beyond belief, before you just walk away- leaving him high and dry. Of course, he wouldn't have it any other way, but sometimes he wishes you would just finish what you started. It was too fun to tease him though, to watch him squirm and writhe, pliant and soft under your exploring hands.

Especially in public.

In his defense, Ken didn't fully understand human propriety or reservations. But you did, and you just didn't care. His ass looked too good in his tight little bottoms, so perky and muscular- you couldn't help yourself. Sliding a hand behind him, you grab a cup full, laughing at the way his body jolts before sagging into you. The gasp he releases gathers everyone elses attention, but Ken nor you blush. And instead, he leans over, grabbing a hand full of yours too, giggling at the way your soft, squishy bottom jiggles under his fingers. You move him to the side, pressing his body behind a nearby wall, out of sight.

“Ken!” He giggles and wraps both of his strong arms around you, falling into your body dramatically as you scold him playfully. “In public, swearheart! Have you no shame?”

“No! Kiss me already!”

So you do, lips locking onto his and tongues swirling together. It's loud and messy, and right in a secluded corner of a sidewalk. People walking by can surely hear his moans and pants, but the thought only excites you, encouraging you to trail a hand down his abdomen. Straight towards his hardening cock. When you graze it, he moans loudly, tucking his head into your neck as he pants loudly, hot, moist breath fanning your skin.

But you don't give him anymore. You just push him back and give him a peck on his lips, laughing at the way he flushes red, expecting more. When you walk away, he follows like a dog on your heels, promiment bulge on display proudly.

~

Of course these affairs aren't one sided.

Ken loves the way you touch and tease him, surely you have to feel the same, right? So, any time he gets, he's on you, fingers pulling at your breast and hips rutting into you like a dog in heat. It's less restrained and far more desperate than you, fueled solely by his desire to make you feel as good you make him feel.

You're just trying to make dinner, to care for the both of you, but his hand slips up your shirt before cupping your breast. Hot, desperate fingers pull at your nipple while he ruts into your side, clothed cock grinding against your hip and thigh. It makes you stop, head falling back into the air as your mouth opens into a small O. This is only encouragement for him though, and he pinches hard eliciting a sharp, excited gasp from your lips.

Suddenyl you snap out of it, eyes narrowing as you continue working, “ken! I am cooking right now.”

“I don't careeeeee,” he whines and licks your neck, leaving a wet, cold trail along your skin.

“You are going to care when you're starving. Do you know how whiney you get when you're hungry?”

“Please, I'll do anything. Just one, please. Please.” Every beg of the word please has him panting and biting against your neck, all while his finger trails lower, playing with the hem of your tiny shorts. For a moment, you consider relinquishing control and allowing him to finger fuck you against the stove. But you think better of it and instead pull back, looking at him with a dissapointed frown.

The effect is immediate and he whines, backing away as he falls against the table, clutching his heart as if you ruthlessly stabbed him.

“I'm dying….. you've killed me I'm dying!”

“Ken, aha, sweetheart,” you scrape the pan, pulling up a tiny fraction of toasted food, “after dinner baby. Then you can fuck me against the counter, how about that?”

Shooting off the table, he pumps his fist, “sublime!”

~

Not every touch is sexual though.

Sometimes you just want to be loved, no, need to be loved. Without realizing it, Ken notices the energy shift, so used to you being happy and, honestly, perverted. But now you're a shell of yourself, sitting curled into a ball, pressed tightly against the leather couch. It's wierd and gross, he decides he doesn't like it at all.

So, doing what Ken does best, he tries to fix it, his hands trailing your legs and hips as he gropes and kneads at your skin. He thinks that this is whats best, that at the end of the day, your touch and taste is what makes him happy. But it isn't working.

And you push him away with a small, irritated huff.

Ken doesn't know what to do. He's never seen you likr this before, so drawn away and reluctant to touch him. It makes him feel sad and, surprisingly gross.

“Honey… please. What's wrong? Did I do something?” He reaches up to slap himself, “god, Ken! Always-”

Your fingers wrap around his wrist instantly, stroking the tight, bronze skin with gentle, loving reverence. Without a word, you just shake your head, pity lining your gaze as you shift, opening your legs and motioning him in with a hug gesture. In seconds he follows, wrapping you into a bear hug and sliding in betwenen your legs, groaning loudly at the way you squeeze him. It's not sexual, but it's warm and inviting- full of love and softness. The exact thing he didn't realize he needed.

You needed.

~

Once Ken realizes he has full permission to be all over you, sexual or not, he's incorrgible. All day, every single day, he's wrapped around you like a baby koala, desperate for your attention. It's endearing and exactly what you want and need in life.

Perfect for someone so touch starved.

Sometimes he even likes suckling at you, in a totally not pervy, not sexual way. He honestly, just loves the feeling of your nipples in his mouth and your fingers in his hair.

Currently, his head is resting on your clothed stomach as his fingers absentmindedly play with your claves and thighs. There's nothing better than laying on top of you, being your personal heater and weighted blanket. But he so desperately wants to put his mouth on you.

So, he does.

Suddenly he turns, laying on his belly as his fingers begin trailing up your sides, slipping under the shirt loosly covering your body. Then he lifts is, tucking it above your breast and exposing your soft breast and hardening buds to him. Without a word, he leans down, capturing on in his mouth as sucking lightly, tongue cirlcing sensually. It's heaven like this, you on your back and him above you, kneading and sucking on you as if he would die without it.

“Mmmm, so needy, baby,” your fingrrs find his hair, pulling on the short, bleach blond strands. “You like it?”

Pushing harder against you he hums, hand coming up to play with your free, neglected breast. It makes you moan softly, heat and moisture pulling in your core. But he just continues, watching your face fall into silent bliss while you watch TV. He could stay like that forever, playing with you like a stress toy while you pretty much ignored his existence.

~

The first time you brought Ken to a club, he went crazy: drinking way too much, grinding and dancing on everyone, standing on the counters and putting on a show. All while dressed in his pink, glamorous cowboy outfit. To be honest, he looked like a stripper and your pretty sure the entire club thought so too. But he was loving the attention, and loving the money people kept sliding into his pockets. Paying for even more drinks.

It was a positive feedback loop. More money. More drinks. More dancing. More money.

Of course you were jealous, but he was having so much fun, pure and unbridled joy lighting up his face as all eyes were glued to him. It helped that he looked so painfully hot up there, face flushed and skin gleaming with sweat as he laughed joyfully while his hips gryrated. A move he certainly learned from you.

Jealously or not, at the end of the day he came home to you. Only you.

So, once the club closed down for the night, you collected him, hand brushing away sweat beading on his forehead before it trailed down, careesing the damp skin of his pecs. He hardly even registered the touch, too happy and excited to tell you about his night. As if you weren't watching every move he made.

“I cannot believe how generous people are,” he wraps an arm around you, and leans his entire body weight on you. Of course you fall under the weight, not expecting the hulking, himbo of a man to just dump himself on you. In his lack of coordination he falls with you, landing on top of with a loud, dramatic squeal. “Oh my god, hi! Crazy seeing you down here, huh? You look so good right now!”

His lips find your neck, biting and sucking at the skin. It would preferable to lay there and take everything he has to give you, but through the corner of your eye you see it, a bouncer rapidly approaching your location.

Pushing him up you stand, gathering him in your arms and rushing away from the approaching fun police. Preferably towards home where you can get him sobered up and then have your way with him.

~

Ken is standing alone in the bathroom, preparing a shower, the hot steam filling the air and brushing his skin with moist, warm beads. Whislting he jumps in, sqeualing loudly at the burning temperature of the water scorching his delicate human skin. He tries to fight it, punching the streams with a fist befire he realizes that isn't going to work and he turns down the heat, sighing at the water cools against him.

Perfect.

Of course, Ken left the bathroom door wide open so you heard all of it and with a giggle you approach the bathroom and lean against the doorframe. Light barely filters through the shower curtain, but you see him, nude body moving behind the fabric, bare and tantalizing.

As silently as you can, you remove your clothes, dropping them to the floor before sliding the current open and stepping in behind him. Of course, he's singing so loudly with his eyes clothes and he doesn't notice you. That is until your hands slip around his waist, finders splaying flat against his muscular chest.

He screams.

A loud, hitch pitched shout echoes throughout the bathroom as he jumps to the ceiling, head slamming into it. You just giggle and tighten your hands, pulling him back into you and connecting your chest to his back. It's so soft against yours and he swear he can feel your nipples harening against him, and he twitches, cock hardening to half mast.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” he whispers, body practically going to limp in your arms.

“Mmm, do you want to have some fun?”

“Yes!”

His cock twitches again.

Feeling bad for him you reach down, grapping his semi hard length with your warm, wet hands. He whines and lets his head fall back against your shoulder as you cup and explore his hardening length. Each stroke of your hand, each careess of your fingers makes him grow until he's full erect, head red and dripping with pre-cum.

That's when you slip your other hand down, cupping and massaging his balls as your other hand begins stroking his cock aggressively. A pathetic sob escapes his throat, the sound shooting directly down your spine and pooling into your core. So, you reward him, stroking and massaging him faster as he begins to rut into your hands, desperate for release.

“Oh, you're such a good boy ken,” you can feel him nod against your shoulder, groaning muttering a ‘yes’. “Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“Yes! P-please, I've been so good! I haven't touched you all week just like you said!”

“Mm that's right,” your fingers tighten around his head, wrist circling and fingers massaging his swollen head. It twitches underneath you and he whines loudly, hips thrusting in uneven, chopping jerks. He's so close. “Cum for me, baby. Give me it all.”

Instantly he twitches, spilling onto your hand in sporatic, thick splurts of white, milky cum. With each jerk he whines, loving the way you continue to stroke and massage him through his orgasm. Without a word, you reach up, sticking a dirty finger into his mouth and forcing him to clean you off. He obliges, licking ever finger clean before turning to you, a bright smile plastered onto his perfect his.

Eyes blown wide with lust, he leans down, capturing your lips with his. He taste salty and warm, his tongue darting out to mix with yours. Suddenly, his hand shoots forward, grabbing your damp leg and bringing it up to wrap around his waist, his already hardening cock pressing nicely against your soaking entrance.

One thing about Ken, is he's always ready to go. You being perverted and open about it just makes him more confident, and he's always ready to match your energy.

It's no longer a beach off, it's a freak off.

~

Nobody:

Ken and Reader:

and after a while, you’d found yourself wanting something different. not better, but just different. you wanted mornings that weren’t perfectly choreographed and conversations that weren’t happening over a soundtrack.

you wanted a life that felt a little less predictable. so one day you packed a suitcase, hugged approximately three hundred crying barbies and kens, promising them to write letters.

and you left.

which was how you ended up in a tiny midwestern town that seemed permanently trapped somewhere between autumn and a postcard. the houses were small, the streets were quiet, everyone seemed to know one another, and nobody wore sequins before noon.

it was lovely, a little strange, but lovely.

your first morning there, you woke up excited. new town, new job, new life. you spent nearly an hour getting ready, not because you needed to. because you enjoyed it. back in barbie land, dressing up wasn’t an event, it was breathing.

you pulled on a brown button up and matching suit pants, small golden hoop earrings, a matching coat, leopard heels that clicked satisfyingly against the floor and enough perfume to make an impression. this barbie was going to work in a small autumnal town, so the outfit had to match the warm earthy tones of the area.

then you stepped outside and immediately noticed your neighbour. he was standing on the porch across the road with a coffee in hand. he was tall and seemed to be having a quiet morning.

he looked like somebody who belonged perfectly in the sleepy little neighbourhood around him. then he saw you, and froze completely.

you smiled immediately, because that’s what you did. “good morning!” he just stared at you. for a second you worried he hadn’t heard you. then he lifted a hand in a tiny awkward wave. his voice was so soft you didn’t catch what he said, so you assumed it was a “morning.”

you grinned, “i’m your new neighbour.”

“i … see.” he says just a little louder, his ears turned pink. adorable! you decided immediately that you liked him. “well, i hope we become friends.”

his expression suggested this possibility had never occurred to him, then you waved once more and headed towards your car. all the way to work you kept thinking about him. the shy neighbour.

this ken seemed nice.

you didn’t realise he worked at the same office until an hour later. you’d just been shown to your desk when you spotted him walking down the corridor.

the moment your eyes lit up in recognition, he nearly dropped the folder he was carrying.

“neighbour!”

half the office looked up, and lars looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. you walked straight over. “we work together!”

“apparently.”

“this is exciting.”

he nodded once. you got the distinct impression he wasn’t used to people describing office jobs as exciting. “what’s your name?” you ask, and he looks a little confused for a second, “i’m lars.” he says, voice quiet. “nice to meet you, lars!” you smile. lars still looked confused as you walked back to your desk. no one was ever this excited to learn his name.

your first day at the office is wonderful. everyone is friendly, everyone is welcoming, they all seems nice. except for one thing. there’s a strange pattern you begin noticing almost immediately.

people are kind to lars… technically, but from a distance. they smile politely, they acknowledge him, but there were small things that didn’t make sense to you.

the sort of thing most people probably wouldn’t pay attention to. when groups formed around desks, lars somehow ended up on the outside, and when people chatted during breaks, conversations flowed around him rather than through him.

when lunch arrived, everybody sat together, but lars sat alone. not because anybody told him to, because nobody invited him. it made absolutely no sense to you. he wasn’t rude or anything, he certainly wasn’t unfriendly. he was simply quiet and seemed a little awkward.

back in barbie land, quiet people got included first, otherwise they might spend the whole party standing beside the punch bowl.

so naturally you picked up your lunch and sat opposite him. lars looked up from his sandwich. blinking at you, “hi.” he muttered, not really looking at you. “hi, lars!” you smiled. “how’s your sandwich?” he stared for several seconds, “good.”

“that’s great.”

it was a quiet few seconds before he asked, “how’s yours?” your smile widened. you’re happy he’d asked. you weren’t entirely sure why that felt like such a victory. “excellent.”

and from that moment onwards, lunch became your thing. your invite him to sit with you everyday, sometimes buy him a drink or some cookies from the vending machine. you didn’t like seeing him be left out.

at first lars assumed it was temporary. you were new and overly friendly, eventually you’d make proper friends. eventually you’d realise he wasn’t particularly interesting. eventually you’d stop sitting with him.

that was how these things usually worked.

except you didn’t, the next day you sat with him again. then again, then again. after two weeks, your coworkers had simply accepted that wherever one of you was, the other probably wasn’t far away.

you asked him questions, genuine questions about books, films, his hobbies, questions about the town. and to lars’ endless surprise, you actually listened to the answers when most people didn’t. not really.

they usually waited for their turn to speak. you actively listened. it made him feel strangely important.

being neighbours complicated things, or improved them… depending on who was judging. because now you kept running into one another, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not.

you’d wave at him every morning, sometimes from your porch, sometimes from your mailbox. sometimes while carrying enough shopping bags to qualify as a structural hazard.

and gradually those tiny interactions started getting longer. five minutes became ten, ten became twenty. you’d lean against at wall while lars chopped wood and talk while the evening light faded. sometimes about serious things, sometimes about absolutely nothing.

lars discovered you could somehow make absolutely nothing interesting. he wasn’t entirely sure how.

you were fixing any reason and excuse to talk to him, whether it was giving him a plate of picture perfect cookies, asking if he could chop wood for your fire place, and gifting him jazz records, you just wanted to talk to him because you found him so genuinely interesting. and lars couldn’t help but feel both taken aback and flustered every time. you seemed to really care.

from everyone else’s perspective, it starts innocently. the new girl sits with lars. okay, that’s nice, very kind. good for her. then she keeps sitting with lars, every day, for weeks. then she’s saving him seats, and bringing him coffee, and walking out with him after work.

suddenly people start noticing, and they’re talking. because it’s a small town, and word gets around quick.

nobody has ever seen lars like this, not ever. most people know him as polite, quiet and reserved. but around you? he laughs, he makes jokes that make you laugh, he actually starts conversations.

the transformation isn’t dramatic. it’s subtle but it’s there, and everybody notices. especially because they keep catching him looking at you.

poor lars, he’s thinks he’s being discreet when he’s actually no where near it.

you’ll be standing across the room talking to somebody and lars’ eyes automatically drift towards you. not consciously, he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. he just likes knowing where you are, likes seeing you happy, likes hearing you laugh, it’s become instinct.

unfortunately for him, everybody else has functioning eyesight.

there’s one particularly devastating afternoon where you show up wearing this absolutely stunning vintage-inspired outfit. soft chocolate brown, cinched waist, heels and perfectly styled hair.

the sort of look that would have had half of barbieland applauding. you walk into the office carrying coffee for you and lars. the entire office practically short-circuits. people stare, people compliment you, somebody accidentally walks into a filing cabinet.

and lars?

lars completely forgets what he’s doing. he’s holding paperwork, then suddenly he’s not processing any information whatsoever. just staring, completely captivated. you, meanwhile, are completely oblivious.

which somehow makes it worse. because you walked over and smiled at him. “good morning, lars! i thought of you this morning, so got this coffee for you!” and suddenly his entire day improves. you were thinking about him. actively. wow.

the funniest thing is that people are far more confused than judgemental. nobody’s saying lars isn’t good enough. they’re saying they genuinely don’t understand how this happened.

because from the outside it looks like a glamorous movie star accidentally wandered into a small-town romance.

one elderly woman eventually corners you at a community event at church on a sunday morning. she looks between you and lars, then back at you, then back at lars. like she’s trying to solve a maths problem.

finally she says: “you know you’re very pretty.”

“thank you.”

“and he’s lars.”

you blink very slowly, suddenly feeling a lot of emotions. protective, annoyed, upset. because why would she say that when he’s right there?

“what’s that supposed to mean, old lady?” you ask, a question that would receive loud gasps and dead silence in barbieland. she just slowly backs off.

the thing people slowly realise, however, is that you never seem confused. everybody else is. you very much aren’t. people keep expecting you to wake up one day and suddenly notice the difference. the difference in popularity, in confidence, in appearance. whatever the case may be. but you never do.

because from your perspective there isn’t a mystery. when you look at lars, you aren’t comparing him to anybody. you aren’t seeing social status. you aren’t seeing the awkward man everybody tiptoes around. you see the person who remembers your favourite flowers. the person who always asks how your day went. the person who carries groceries for elderly neighbours. the person who listens when you talk. really listens.

the person who makes room for everyone else despite spending most of his life being left out.

and eventually other people start seeing it too. because once somebody points it out, it’s impossible to ignore. they notice how gentle you are with him. they notice the way he watches for your reaction whenever he says something. they notice how his face lights up when you arrive. they notice that you somehow make him comfortable.

you always make room for him, no matter the situation. at a party, if someone talks over him, “wait, lars was saying something.” if there’s a meeting at the office, you’re placing your handbag on the seat next to you to reserve it for him, always making sure to show off his skills, “well, lars is a actually really good at carpentry. you should see him chop wood, he’s the best at it.”

always making sure that he’s comfortable enough to be himself.

the real turning point comes when somebody asks you directly, because eventually somebody had to. one of your coworkers catches you smiling after a conversation with lars and says: “serious question, what exactly do you see in him?”

the question isn’t exactly cruel, just genuinely curious. and you look completely baffled, because to you the answer is obvious.

“everything.”

the coworker laughs, you don’t. “you’re not funny. why are you laughing.” and the coworker immediately stops laughing, and is a little shocked. you’re usually so sweet, they just expected you to laugh too. “do you think you’re better than him or something?”

the coworker just awkwardly stands there, “he’s kind, he remembers things, and he makes me feel safe. so what, he’s different. you’i’ll never be above him. you can only wish you’re like him.”

meanwhile lars overheard this entire conversation, and is blushing like a schoolboy. you were willing to defend him like that? at the office in front of everyone? oh, his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

everyone else saw you as this beautiful, impossibly glamours, fashionable sweetheart who’s always with quiet little lars lindstrom. but you saw your best friend, the man that brings you hot chocolate when it’s too cold outside, the man that makes you little wooden sculptures of birds just because, the one person who saw you as something that isn’t a perfect pinup girl.

people stop asking “why lars?” and start wondering, “well, who else could it have been?”

between every lunch, every conversation, every morning wave, every time you chose the empty seat beside him when there were dozens of others available, every time you looked at him like he was somebody worth knowing, somewhere between neighbour and friend, he’d fallen completely.

You were stretched out on the wooden floor with your hands folded behind your head, staring up at the gray steel sky. You didn’t even look particularly surprised to see him.

Lars immediately stiffened. “Oh.”

You turned your head slightly. “Oh?”

“This is…” Lars cleared his throat awkwardly. “Private property.”

“Private property?” you repeated, sounding genuinely surprised.

“Yes.”

You glanced around the treehouse. “Huh. I didn’t see a sign anywhere. Weird.”

Lars frowned faintly. “It’s my property.”

That made you laugh. Not loudly, but enough for Lars to feel heat creep into his cheeks.

“You sound like an old man yelling at kids to get off his lawn.”

“It’s not a lawn.”

You tilted your head, studying him properly now. Then suddenly your expression shifted.

“Wait.”

Lars immediately grew wary.

“I know you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re the guy from town.” You pointed at him slightly. “You’re always staring at me in the grocery store. Or the library. Or that café on the corner with the white curtains.”

Lars blinked rapidly. “I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

“I’m not,” he protested quickly.

“You’re doing it right now.”

His ears turned pink almost instantly. You grinned, victorious, while Lars looked away toward the lake, seemingly unsure whether he should be offended or embarrassed.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

He hesitated for a long moment. “That’s classified.”

You snorted softly. “Classified?”

“Yes.”

You carefully pushed yourself upright and brushed the dirt from your jeans. “Alright then. Guess I’ll just stay here forever.”

Lars looked alarmed immediately. “Forever?”

“Mhm.”

“This is my treehouse.”

“You haven’t proven that.”

“I told you.”

“That’s not proof.”

He stared at you for several painfully long seconds, visibly struggling with himself. You found it strangely sweet. There was something about him that made you want to smile—not mockingly or out of pity, but with genuine amusement.

“Lars,” he mumbled finally.

“What?”

“My name is Lars.”

Your smile softened immediately. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Then you gave him your name. Lars regretted speaking almost instantly, but still repeated your name several times in his head anyway.

You moved toward the rope hanging from the opposite side of the treehouse. “Well, thank you for sharing that classified information with me, Lars.”

Lars instinctively climbed down a few steps after you, watching carefully. Halfway down, you glanced up at him with a teasing smile.

“Still staring.”

“I’m making sure you don’t fall.”

“Very heroic.”

“I’m not being heroic.”

“Sure.”

Then suddenly your hand slipped faster than you expected. You lost your balance on the rope with a startled sound, and Lars reacted instantly. He climbed down quickly and caught your arm at the last second, pulling you sharply toward him. You grabbed onto him automatically, fingers bunching tightly in his jacket. 

Dry leaves crunched beneath your feet as the two of you stumbled awkwardly down the last few rungs together. For one long second, neither of you moved. You were still clutching his jacket. Lars’s hands were still tight around your waist. His breathing had stopped entirely.

You looked up first. “Okay,” you admitted softly. “That was actually heroic.”

Lars let go of you immediately like he’d touched a live wire. “Sorry.”

“You caught me.”

“Sorry.”

You couldn’t help smiling. “You apologize a lot.”

He looked deeply uncomfortable now, rubbing the back of his neck while carefully avoiding your eyes. The cold wind shifted through the trees around you, and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself.

“I should probably head back before it gets dark.”

“You walked here?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

“Yeah.”

“That’s far.”

“It’s not that bad.” You smiled softly. “I like walking.”

“It’s cold.”

You shrugged. “I’ll survive.”

Lars stared at the snowy ground for several long moments, very obviously arguing with himself.

“…I could drive you,” he said quietly.

You blinked.

“If you want,” he added quickly. “You don’t have to.”

The drive was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Lars kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel while you watched the darkening trees pass outside the window. Every so often he glanced in your direction like he wanted to say something, only to think better of it at the last second.

When he finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you slowly unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Thanks for the ride.”

He nodded once. You opened the door, then paused before stepping out.

“You have a really nice treehouse, Lars.” He looked genuinely surprised by that. “I always wanted one like that when I was a kid.”

Something in his expression softened then. You smiled at him one last time before stepping out into the cold evening air.

And Lars stayed parked outside long after you disappeared inside.

Two days later, you walked into the café near the hardware store with your usual coffee already on your mind. Then you stopped. Someone was sitting at your table.

Lars.

The second he noticed you standing there, he looked almost guilty. Slowly, you approached the table, lips twitching with amusement.

“Well,” you said while draping your coat over the chair across from him, “now you’re occupying my place.”

Lars looked horrified. “I can move if you want.”

“No, no.” You sat down with a grin. “Seems fair.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. Then you noticed the second coffee sitting across from him. Your usual order. Exactly the way you liked it. You looked back at him immediately. Lars avoided eye contact at once, suddenly very interested in the sleeve of his sweater.

You smiled before wrapping your hands around the warm cup. “So,” you asked softly, “do you buy coffee for all your trespassers?”

Lars ducked his head slightly, hiding a nervous smile.

“No,” he admitted quietly.

And for the first time since meeting him, Lars Lindstrom looked almost comfortable sitting beside you.

Note: Ahhh first ever Lars fic and I LOVED it!! I struggled a little bit trying to get him right but I think I did good!

Maybe not as cuddly as you wanted but I do apologize for that pookie I hope you still enjoy!!

-Mars/Iris

Words: 1.4k

You quickly rush into the house, your fingers and face feeling numb from the cold outside. You get inside and immediately search for your favorite source of warmth, Lars.

You scan the room for your teddy bear of a boyfriend but pause when you spot him. He is snuggled under a throw blanket reserved for the coldest of nights. He was too busy reading his book to notice you had even entered the house. You make your way quietly over to the lite fireplace filled with freshly chopped wood from outside. Once warmed up you get up and move around the kitchen preparing dinner in silence.

It’s an unspoken rule practically when Lars is reading he must not be bugged, no one can talk to him, touch him or interrupt him —or at least that's what Karen and Gus tell you—

But you are so focused on trying to be quiet you miss the quite obvious looks Lars gives from above his book, like he want to say something but thinks better of it,

Once dinner is made he comes over to the table and you eat together like you normally do. Tonight though he's quieter, sort of quiet like when he has a bad day at work so you just assume the silence is because of that.

You go through your evening staying pretty silent, the both of you doing your own thing but still together. You sit on the couch sketching him as he reads off to your side.

You were just about finished, getting the final details of his mustache when the clock strikes 10 and he promptly shuts his book and heads to get ready for bed, you get up and follow after. Just as before you both do your normal routine but still in silence, Lars seemingly stuck in his head and you giving him his space.

Once dressed and teeth brushed you both head into the bedroom, you pause at the foot of the bed biting your lip. “Umm Lars sweetie, I can sleep on the couch if you want” you offer. You know usually when he gets into this sort of mood the burning sensation is worse when touched so you try to avoid it at all cost and well the bed is fairly small for two people.

Lars freezes in place, blanket only partially pulled back. He doesn’t say anything, he tries to but words fail him. Instead he just gives you his sad confused puppy dog eyes. You just nod, taking his silence as sort of ‘yes’ and start gathering up your pillow and a blanket. You were about to walk out the room when you felt a quick tug to your arm.

You turn around and come face to face with Lars. He has a sort of pained and desperate look on his face like he's trying to find the right words to use. You wait patiently for him as he opens and closes his mouth, changing his mind as he's about to say something. His eyes scrunches up tight as he lets out a soft “dont go…”

“It’s ok sweetie, I don’t have too” You softly add, bringing your hands up to almost cup his face but not actually touching. Lars lets out a whimper at the almost contact before falling into your touch a bit desperately. You were so shocked by his desperation for touch you pulled your hands back thinking something had happened. Lars stumbles forward a bit without your support. Taking your recoiling as rejection he rushes back to the bed unable to hold back his hot heavy tears.

“Oh! Oh sweetheart oh I'm sorry what happened?” You ask quickly moving to his side on the bed. Lars just tries to turn away from you and continues to cry, burying his face in his hands. You gently grip his wrist ready to pull back at the slightest sign of discomfort. Lars lets out a little whimper, shutting his eyes at the contact but lets you pull his hands away. You gently whip away the tears that spill down his face, your touch light and soft. “Lars, Baby I’m confused, can you talk to me?” You gently prod, still swiping your fingers delicately across his face.

Lars’s eyes briefly open and hold on to yours, your eyes soften and your lips pull up into a soft smile, the sight of you this close and personal is too overwhelming for him and he shuts his eyes again.

“You didn’t come sit by me…” Lars whispered, his voice barely audible. You tilt your head in confusion but you don’t say anything knowing he will explain himself. “When, you came in from the cold, I was waiting for you on the couch, I even got out the coziest blanket for you but you just walked on past like i was invisible” His hands itched to press up against his face to try to hide away from you but it took everything in him to fight it.

“Oh Lars… I’m so sorry you thought I was ignoring you… I just thought you wanted your peace and quiet so I tried hard to not bug you.” You explain, fingers light moving across his eyelids as a silent request for him to open them. His eyelids flutter but soon you can see his beautiful blue eyes still shining from his tears.

“Well, why would you think that? I was waiting all evening for you.” Lars softly whined.

“Well, you were reading, I know you don’t like to be interrupted and bugged while reading so I didn’t want to be a bother and make any disruptions that might distract you” You murmur, your hands going back to cupping his face, “Gus and Karen said that was like the number one rule, never interrupt Lars’s reading time” You softly tease.

Lars gives a small frown, “Yeah well… that doesn’t apply to you” He softly pouts folding his arms. “You're always the exception.”

Your heart speeds up slightly at the small confession “Oh Sweetheart, I didn’t- I didn’t know that” A small smile spreads across your face as you walk close to him.

“Yeah well I guess I should have made it more obvious, dang it” He mumbled annoyed with himself. You just shake your head smiling as you lean in, your forehead pressed together. Lars scrunches his face up, too flustered by the closeness but has your favorite smile on his face.

You press soft kisses along his cheeks and the tip of his noise, Lars lets out a small whine at the contact. “I needed this…” He mumbled a voice barely audible like he hadn’t even meant to say it aloud. You were about to respond but closed your mouth instead, words aren’t what he needs right now, all he needs is your comforting touch so instead you press a delicate kiss to his lips.

Lars lets out a gasp but happily returns your kiss, his giant hands gripping your hips, as if trying to ground himself. He brings you closer so you are perched in his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms hug his torso bringing you pressed against him.

The kiss isn’t lustfully, sure it's passionate but it’s still slow and tender, it's the kind of kiss that’s just a kiss. It’s not intended to lead to anything more, it's just a way of connection between the two of you.

Eventually Lars maneuvers you both so you're laying on your side as the kisses fade into gentle pecks and soft patterns against the other’s skin. He pulls the bedcovers up and over you both, snuggling and enjoying each other’s warmth.

“I’m sorry it seemed I was ignoring you…I promise that is never my intention.” You whispered as the kisses completely died down, leaving you snuggled into him, your head resting on his chest as buried your nose into his soft pajamas. Lars just shrugged unsure of what to say but him squeezing you tight and his soft kiss to your forehead gave away what he was trying to say.

“Goodnight Lars, I love you Lars. ” You softly whispered before burying your face into his neck, arms wrapped around him and falling asleep.

Lars sits in front of her, body trembling with a concoction of unknown emotions: fear, anxiety, happiness, want desire. It was a foreign concept to him, the idea of desiring someone in the way that he does her. Sure, he's always noticed how beautiful women are, how they curve in just the right ways, but to feel something like this, something so strong, makes him feel wrong. Dirty.

She touches his knee softly and he jolts, body involuntarily freezing under the gentle contact. She pulls back immediately, fingers hovering over the covered skin, waiting for him to speak in protest or agreement. He shakes his head, not wanting her to pull away from him, but wanting her to continue touching him. To continue making him feel good. She doesn't seem to understand what he means and she pulls away, setting back down onto the bed and tucking her hands together protectively against her sternum. He shakes his head again and pinches his eyes shut tightly, trying to quell the emotions and think rationally. To speak.

“I-I, no!” He winces again and leans his head into his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes harshly, trying to stop the tears from welling. “I-I…. I want you to…to t-touch me.” His final words are a whisper and she strains to hear him, leaning forward and cocking her head to do so.

“Lars… you don't have to force yourself, sweetheart.” She shuffles forward, only inches away, but careful not to touch him, “we can just sit here and talk.. y-you know you don't have to force yourself to be ready. It's even okay to never be ready.”

He presses his eyes together tightly, a tick that subconsciously forms when emotions are too high. He sighs deeply, body sagging with his own disappointment- in himself. He's ruined it, of course he did, but we wanted it so bad. Wanted her so badly. He still wants her.

So, he does something never thought he would do in his life. He grabs her hand gently, his large, thick fingers are cold against her skin as he guides it back to his leg, letting it hover over the material of his jeans for just a moment before placing it down. He breathes out deeply at the contact, body shivering and heart pounding out of his chest as he expects the burn to return. To ignite his body in searing flames.

But it doesn't.

Instead, his body tingles with something new, something dangerous. He shutters and his eyes close as his body sags back against the wall- bed shifting his weight. He hears her breathe out loudly and lean forward, fingers unintentionally digging into his thighs. He jolts at that and a good heat pools in stomach as he twitches in his jeans uncontrollably, becoming unintentionally hard at the pressure. She doesn't mention the obvious straining in his jeans, just massages the skin of his thigh gently as she whispers to him.

“Are you okay, Lars?” He nods and closes his eyes, letting himself get lost inside the feeling of her hands on him. He feels her lean forward fully now, feels as the heat next to his body increases and how her breath teases his neck. She speaks and his lips tremble as the sound tickles neck, “can I kiss you Lars?”

He whines and nods desperately, only stopping when she places a hand on his head, fingers cradling his chin and rubbing soothing circles on his skin and she pulls him closer. He opens his eyes then, and through half-lidded eyelashes he watches as she leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turns his head into her, desperate for her lips on his, but she pulls back slightly, breathing deeply as her fingers move up his thigh just an inch.

He whines and leans forward and she relents, pressing her lips to his with a ferocity he didn't know she had. Her hand grips his head tighter, not enough to hurt, but enough for his skin to tingle and burn with pleasure. And just enough to let him know that she's the one leading right now.

As per usual.

She huffs into his mouth as she leans up onto her knees, pressing her hand into his thigh to help her move. Lars groans at the pressure, lips parting as he breathes loudly into her mouth. She eats the sounds up, shifting closer and pressing herself against his chest as she deepens the kiss, her tongue teasing the roof of mouth expertly. He whines again and bucks into the air between their hips, wanting a friction he's never felt from her before.

Sure, they've kissed plenty of times, even french kissed- something Lars was scandled about at the time, but quickly leaned into with barely concealed enthusiasm. But this was different, and they both knew it as she slowly drifts her hand up his thigh. He shutters in her mouth and his lips tremble as he moves back and pinches his eyes tighter before opening them, watching her fingers trail dangerously close to his very obvious bulge.

She watches him as his eyes flutter with desire, opening and closing with unshed tears as he watches her hand move up his thigh. He's thick and muscular, but appreciatively soft and she can't help but to squeeze the covered flesh there, relishing in how eager he is underneath her. She cocks her head and speaks as she leans in and caresses the skin of his temples with her lips.

“Are you okay, Lars?” He nods eagerly and leans his head into her, trying to rest his head on her shoulders. She allows him, leaning forward onto his thighs, massaging the skin there, as he whines and lays his forehead against her collarbone- allowing himself to go limp in her hold. Her other hand moves to the back of his head, scratching and playing with the hair there, listening as he purrs. “Can I touch you, Lars?”

He whines loudly at the question and nods, his lips pursing and quivering against the skin of her shoulder. She shifts her hand up, hovering it over the prominent bulge in his jeans before pressing it down, fingers wrapping around it- unmoving. The reaction is immediate, he groans loudly and twitches, hands coming up to grasp and knead at the soft flesh of her hips. She continues to sit there, letting him relish in the feeling of her fingers before she moves, fingers trailing him up and down as she applies the faintest amount of pressure to him. He whines louder, feeling desperate and pathetic- a school boy being touched for the first time ever as he almost cries into her neck, grasping desperately at her hips. He wants more though, to feel her against him fully.

She continues moving her hand, looking down at his head tucked into her neck as she goes, loving the way his large, strong hands gripped onto her hips. Unexpectedly though, his hands move, shifting under her shirt and pawing at the warm skin of her hips- skin on skin contact. She breathes out a soft laugh and grips him firmer through his jeans before moving closer, watching as his back straightens- his head now resting against the wall. He refuses to let her go, dragging her by the hips as she presses him back up. She's practically fully against him now, feeling the overwhelming heat of his skin through his close as he stares at her through his lashes.

“Do you want more, Lars?”

He can't speak and he only manages a nod as her fingers reach his tip, playing with him through his jeans. He bucks into her hand and grips her hips tighter, subconsciously pulling her hips to his side- pressing her against him. She just giggles and nods and he watches as she leans over and gives him a sloppy kiss before leaning back.

“Why don't you take off your pants baby?”

He groans and slams his head back against the wall, feeling the sharp pressure in his skull. He nods and lifts his hips, desperately pulling at the buttons and zipper to free himself from the prison. She watches and whispers again, careful of his boundaries.

“D-do you want me to take off mine?” His head shoots up, pants halfway down his thighs as the question escapes her mouth. His lips tremble and he might as well be drooling at the way he pants pathetically. He nods again and continues yanking his pants down, tossing them in a heap at the foot of his small bed.

He watches in awe as she stands up, shifting the material of her pants down her legs before turning around and bending over, giving him a full view of her beautifully curved bottom. He groans loudly at this, his head once again slamming into the wall as he subconsciously cups himself through his boxers. She stands again and smirks at the way he strokes himself, but then cocks her head- a teasing look taking over her features.

“Don’t you want me to do that for you Lars?” He removes his hand from himself immediately, face burning as he grasps at the sheets next to him. She just walks closer and leans forward, finger trailing up his chest as she teases his lips with hers. “I'm just kidding, baby. You can touch yourself as much as you want. Especially if I'm watching.”

He shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes as he replies, chest heaving as he pleads, “I-I wasn't-” She pulls back a second and furrows her brows, concern lining her features.

“Are you okay?”

He shakes his head- he doesn't know what he feels right now. All he knows is that he wants her hands on him, to feel her touch him, to kiss her. So, he leans forward and grabs her hips again, pulling her on top of him and pushing her hips against his. She yelps as he moves her, not expecting the bold actions from the quiet, gentle giant.

It's always the quiet ones.

“P-please!” He shifts his hands, palming to the top of her ass as he bucks into her hips with a whine. “Please, please…. please!”

She smiles softly and leans forward locking her lips with his once more, tongue swirling with his as he pants and moans. She's right above him, and he can feel the heat of her desire teasing his cock through the thin material of his boxers. He wants her against him, to feel how wet and warm she is against him. But she just moves her hand back down, cupping him through his boxers, both of them groaning loudly at the contact.

“Goodness, Lars! You're so big!” He preens at the compliment, face flushing a beautiful red as he smiles shyly. He's never considered himself large, but he also wasn't usually comparing himself with others. His blush deepens when she strokes him again, fingers deftly squeezing and massaging his cock through the thin cotton of his underwear. It feels so much better like this, so much more real.

He grips her hips again suddenly, pulling her tightly against him as she squeals, placing both her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. He can feel her against him now, pulsing with hot desire against his throbbing, aching length. She grips his shoulders tighter and leans down, connecting their lips together as he kneads her hips and bucks into her folds. He whines into her lips finally and pulls back, the sensations of pleasure almost becoming too much.

“Do you want more?”

“P-please!”

She nods and he watches as she sinks down, placing himself firmly against her. He closes eyes and tightens his hands and she whimpers at the bruising pressure. He releases and apologizes only tightening again when she rotates her hips, sliding up and down his full length. He shutters and moves his hands, gripping at the skin of her as he tries to move her faster along him. She relents for just a moment, leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder as he moves her hips against him, panting and moaning at the way his tip catches on her clit and aching hole. He groans every time he catches on to her, feeling her warm, slick coating his boxers through her underwear.

“Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” He whines and nods, hips stuttering when she nibbles and kisses his neck softly. “It's all for you Lars. G-god you feel so good under me. So thick and strong…” She purrs and trails up his neck, leaving a thin line of kisses as he goes towards his face. She places soft kisses on his cheek, on the corner of his lips before firmly setting her lips on his, parting them as she moans in his mouth and slips her tongue in.

His hands stop moving her then, relishing in the way that she whines at the loss of movement before she grinds herself down on him- expertly stroking his cock with her covered folds. He feels the heat in his stomach spreading to his chest as his hips buck and his lips move against her. There's so much pleasure, so much heat, but he still wants more, the feeling of her covered skin not enough for him.

“P-lease!” He whines and accidentally bites her lips, groaning at the way she huffs into his mouth at the sensation, pleasure shooting down her spine. She halts for a second and then circles her hips, stroking him slowly as she cocks her head lips trailing his neck now.

“Please what, Lars?”

“I-I… more! Please, more!”

She pulls back then, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck, enjoying the way he's fully debauched underneath her. His lips are red and swollen, eyes glassy with unshed tears of pleasure, hips constantly bucking against her as his chest heaves up and down. She gives him a single peck, chuckling as he chases her lips again.

“More, what? You need to use your words baby.. I need to know what you want more of.”

“I-I need to feel you…. Feel you against me! N-no clothes…” he whispers out the last part, eyes closing in shame at his desperation. She just coos softly and leans forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Are you sure Lars? This is a lot for your first time..” He just nods and reaches his hands up her back, clawing and kneading at the skin as he pleads. She kisses the corner of his lips before shifting on top of him and reaching her hands down, pulling her underwear down her legs and dropping it on the floor with her pants. He tries not to look down, not to groan as her wet lips become exposed to the air. But he can't, and he groans loudly as she glistens perfectly above him. “Yours to?”

He shifts immediately tugging his boxes down his thighs, exposing his hard, twitching length to the air. He trembles as his cock hits his clothed stomach, gleaming with pre-cum dripping from his red, throbbing tip. She huffs a breathless laugh as she gazes at him- beautiful and eager for her touch. This isn't how she expected today to go, but she's beaming at her current circumstances.

“I want to touch you so bad Lars. You're so thick and strong…. I bet you'd taste so good.” He wants it so bad… goodness he does, but she just shakes her head and sits her hips back down on him, whispering into his ear. “That's for another time though, I want to feel your big cock against me right now.”

He grasps her by the back tighter, pulling her down against him, tired of the teasing heat of her unclothed core above him. He whines loudly and bucks against her at the contact- she's so warm and so wet, coating his length with her desire. She kisses him again, lifting his chin up, swallowing his moans and whines as he bucks into her still hips.

“Please… p-please move.”

Her lips tease him as she shifts, her glistening folds massaging his length as she pulls back and forth. She goes slowly at first, delighting in the way he pants and moans against her lips, clawing at her back desperately. He shifts, grabbing her by the hips, forcing her to move faster as his stomach tightens in pleasure. He doesn't want this feeling to end, but he can't help himself. He spent so much of his life fearing touch and people, not knowing that it could feel so good- feel so warm.

He feels his cock catch against her entrance a moment, whining at the way his head dips in for only a second as her mouth opens and head dips back in pleasure. He feels so good against her fully bare, tip pressing against her entrance and aching throbbing clit. It's not enough to get her off completely, but she delights in the feeling, especially as he cries underneath her so prettily.

He feels his stomach clench and he stills, scared of finishing too soon against her, when she hasn't anything from it. She just leans forward and grabs his face with one hand and his free hand with her other, dragging it to cup her breast as she leans in and kisses him. The tears fall then, feeling her soft and supple under him and he experiments, teasing and pinching at her bud as her tongue teases him.

He feels his stomach clench and his hips stutter as he whines and moans. He moves faster then, hips pistoning against her, feeling her wet folds encasing his length. The feeling builds and he chases it delighting in the way electric, hot pleasure shoots down his spine and cock. He wants to slip into her, to spill into her pretty, tight pussy, but he can't. So he settles for grinding against her as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

“I-I'm go-”

She leans back and grinds her hips for him, stroking the length with her folds quickly as he squeezes her breast and groans loudly underneath her. He stops suddenly and he groans loudly, cock twitching and pulsing as he releases onto her stomach. Hot, white ropes of cum drench her aching pussy and abdomen and she whines at the ferocity of his orgasm. There's such much cum coating her, and she can't help herself as she looks at the slick.

She trails a finger down and scoops some of it up before bringing it to her lips, tasting the salty, sticky liquid on her tongue. She hums and locks eyes with him as he continues to cry and shake from the overwhelming feelings. She stops then, jumping off of his lap, heart clenching as he begins to panic- his chest heaving with sobs.

“Hey, hey, Lars! It's okay baby, I'm right here. What's wrong?”

He stutters, clenching his eyes and he shakes his head, “n-no, no! It was p-perfect….. you felt so good… I felt so good…” he pauses and looks away before turning back and smiling gently at her, biting his lips before speaking again as shame fills. “I-I just… you didn't..”

“Oh baby that's okay! Today was about you!” She leans forward and places a soft kiss to his forehead, smiling as he leans into it. “There's always more chances, but I wanted you to feel good today. Did you like it?”

He nods quickly and hums, chuckling softly as he rests his head against her, heart beginning to relax as her reassurances. “It was amazing!" He pauses and wraps his arms around her, squeezing her with the strength of a bear, shaking her back and forth- both of them giggling together at his joy. “Y-you're so perfect!”

“Hmmmm I think you're talking about yourself Lars!”

They sit for a while and she sighs, letting Lars hold onto her tightly for as long as he wants, but not completely enjoying the feeling of his cum drying to her aching cunt.

“Can we, uh, take a shower?” She giggles at his words and nods, placing a soft kiss to his head once again before standing and offering him her hand. He takes it and he stands, biting his lips as he pulls his shirt down, trying to cover his now soft cock. He stutters for a moment and then speaks again, voice shaking with anxiety… or maybe excitement? “C-can I….. can I try my mouth next time?”

Being sick is miserable and so you lay here alone, face buried into your pillows and body tucked tightly into your thick blankets as you groan and wheeze quietly in pain.

This wasn't an ordinary illness, no, you were sure you were going to die alone in your bed. Your head throbs with each breath, pulsing with overwhelming pressure as you feel your heart beating loudly in your forehead. Your eyes water and burn with every blink as your nose drips precariously onto the bed, pooling with a small puddle of drool dripping out of your mouth. And your throat, worst of all, feels as if life itself grips it, wracking its sharp talons through your vocal cords- rendering you voiceless and in constant agony.

You wheeze again and sniffle, attempting to clear your sinuses to allow any breath to come through- to no avail, of course. A cough racks through your chest at this, clenching your lungs tightly as phlegm fights to dislodge itself from your lungs. You want to fall asleep, to rest endlessly until your body heals itself, or you die silently, but the burning ache keeps you awake and you're destined to feel every second of this hell. 

A knock sounds at your door startles you from your self-deprecating thoughts. You're not expecting any visitors so you ignore noise, nestling deeper into the pillows as you grown loudly at sound echoing through your apartment continually. The person will not give up and you relent, pulling yourself up to trembling legs as your head swims from the sudden change in pressure. A voice echoes from behind the door and you frown deeply, eyes drooping and head shaking in confusion.

Lars. 

You unlatch the door, leaning heavily onto the wooden frame as you pull it open slowly. Lars stands on the other side, gloved hands clasped together tightly as he plays with his covered fingers. Tears well silently in his eyes as he smiles gently, relief flooding over his face as he takes in your fatigued figure. 

“H-hi, Lars-” you try to speak, but your throat closes around nothing and you cough aggressively, body hunching over at the force. Lars leans forward, hand extended before stopping and hovering it over your back, teasing you with the warmth of his body. You stand back up and lean onto the frame once more as you wheeze for a moment before continuing, voice a low, weak whine, “what are you doing here, Lars?” 

“.. you didn't show up..” 

“..show up?” Your eyes pinch tightly, confusion wracking your brain at his words, “show up for what, hun?” 

“Movie night” 

Your eyes shoot open, and your head spins precariously as the memories return. Move night happens every Friday night at Lars’ built in garage apartment. And last night was Friday. You missed it. You sigh and lean back against the wall, looking at Lars as he pinches his eyes together and fidgets, concern lining his beautiful face. 

“I-I tried to call you last night, but you didn't answer so I thought you were mad at me, but then you didn't answer again this morning!” He pauses and breathes deeply, biting his lip as his brows furrow, “a-are you okay?” 

“Y-yeah!” You sigh and subconsciously lean towards him, desperate for his warmth. “I'm just a little sick right now, sweetheart. I-I'm sorry for ditching you I didn-” A cough racks your body and Lars jumps, hand resting on your back, awkwardly patting the phlegm away. “I-I'm sorry… Lars…” 

He shakes his head and pats your back again, pulling away quickly as he wrings his hands together once more. He points inside and stutters, “c-can I?” You move away from the door, motioning him in before shutting and locking it quietly. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around at your belongings and clutter lining the shelves. He's never been in here for very long, preferring to instead have you at his place, where he is comfortable and safe in his own protected bubble. You never pried or pushed him to reconsider, just remained happy he was even with you and comfortable enough to let you touch his skin and love him in the way he deserves.

You walk over to the couch and plop down, body sagging into the cushions immediately as your body trembles from exertion. Lars hesitates for a moment and watches you shake- not knowing how to help. He reaches a hand towards your shoulder and stops when you cough and groan in pain before rubbing your throat. Pinching his eyes together he decides then, that he will help you feel better and that he will do anything to complete his goal. 

You listen as his footsteps patter away, towards your room before he reappears, blankets and pillows and even a singular teddy bear grasped tightly in his arms. It's the one he got you for valentines this year, as soft and as cuddly as him with big fluffy, brown arms- it even somehow looks like him. You huff out a laugh as you watch him approach, nose and chest wheezing at the motion. He stops right in front of you and motions your head up before placing the pillow underneath your head and fluffing in dramatically before tucking you under the soft, fluffy blanket. He holds the teddy in his hand and shakes it back and forth, grabbing a fuzzy arm and waving it at you theatrically. 

“Howdy!”

You giggle and hold a hand out, wiggling your fingers for him. When he holds the bear out for you, you grab his wrist and pull him in, laughing painfully at the way he huffs from the unexpected gesture. You force him all the way down before pulling at his shoulders to lay him on top of you. You sigh at the pressure of his weight, laying back onto the pillows as his warm, soft body keeps you safe from the illness. He wiggles uncomfortably for a second before pulling himself onto his hands, leaning down over top of you with strong, thick arms. You grab his forearm, stroking the material of his flannel with a finger as he gauks at you openly. 

“I feel better now!” 

“You do?” You sigh and close your eyes, wrapping your fingers around his forearm tightly as the pressure returns in your chest- a cough threatening to claw its way out of your chest. You turn your head and cough into the pillow, heart deflating at the way Lars jumps back, arms and hands disappearing from next to your head. “You don't!" 

He stands up and paces next to the couch, hands moving rapidly though the air as you lean over and pick up the discarded bear, holding it closely to your chest as you wheeze. If he won't cuddle with you, then you'll just have to accept the next best thing. He stops and looks at you as he bites his lip harshly and winces from the pain. He leans over once more, placing a large hand on your forehead before reeling back from the overwhelming heat. 

“You're not just a little sick! You're very sick!” He pauses and nods, confident in ability to help, “where's your medicine?” 

He starts walking towards your bathroom, stopping as you whisper out, “I ran out last night…” He turns back around and huffs, cheeks inflating dramatically before he sighs out deeply. “Okay! Uhhhh…. I can get some!” He rushes towards the door, adjusting his gloves as he grabs the handle. You huff out and whine, turning around to face him as he leaves, your raspy voice echoing out loud complaints. 

“Lars! Aren't you forgetting something!” 

He rushes back, biting his bottom lip as he leans down, head level with you. His eyes flicker over your face, concern lining his beautiful eyes. “Kiss!” 

“Y-you're sick!” 

You groan loudly and fall back against the cushions, bringing a hand up in a playful faint, ignoring the feeling of a cough rattling its way through your chest. He sighs and looks away before leaning over you, hand resting next to your head as he smiles gently. 

“Well, someone insists on leaving already and I-” a cough, “I need a big strong man to give me a goodbye kiss so I can feel better! I'll die without it Lars!” You place a hand on the back of his head and scratch the back of his neck, preening at the way his face burns from the praise. 

“I-I don't want to hurt you!” 

“You're not going to hurt me sweetheart… why would it hurt?” 

“I-I don't know….” He looks away and hangs his head, resting his forehead on your chest, “you don't feel good.. I don't want to make it worse…” 

“If anything, a kiss from you will make me feel better. You always make me feel better Lars, especially when I get to hold and touch you.” His eyes meet yours, this time brimming with unshed tears as he whimpers softly at the confession. He leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling away. You tighten your hold on his neck and chase his lips, giving him a soft peck before relenting and relaxing into the couch, fingers playing with the soft hair at his neck.

He's always so awkward when receiving or giving affection, it's oddly endearing, but still overwhelmingly sad. You frown and think of the life he lived up to this moment, the years of neglect and abuse that lead him to be so isolated and so terrified of touch. It took him years to be this comfortable with you, allowing you to touch him as you pleased, but he's still hesitant to reach out first. The first time you had kissed him, he cried loudly, years of pain and loneliness echoing into your chest as he held onto you, fingers clawing at your arms desperately. 

So, you relent, scratching the back of his head once more before letting him go and watching silently as he stands up again. He looks down at you, a soft smile on his face as his eyes shine with unspoken adoration. He nods once more and bites his lip again before speaking. 

“I'll be right back, I promise!” He walks to the door and opens it standing in the doorway before repeating himself. It's more of a reassurance for himself, that he's not abandoning you like so many abandoned him.“I'll be right back!” 

You just hum and wave your arm back at him, nestling into the covers as exhaustion overtakes you. You pull the bear into your face, inhaling the scent of Lars cologne that he insists on spraying on it every week when you visit. You drift off, imagining that it's him laying next to you, ignoring the feeling of cold seeping into your aching body. 

~

You don't know how long you lay there, filtering in and out of a restless sleep before a timid knock sounds throughout the room once more. You snort and sit up slightly, brows furrowing before you remember the circumstances. Laying back down you yell out, throat and head aching at the unnecessary strain.

“It's unlocked Lars” You cough and wheeze before turning over, face pounding with overbearing pressure. The door opens slowly with a low squeal and you crane your neck to look at a sheepish Lars, who's currently holding a ludicrous and unnecessary amount of bags. He smiles and pauses, lifting up the bags and waving them excitedly at you.  

“I got medicine!” He shuffles towards you, holding the bags in his hands before setting them down and checking your temp again. You smile softly and chuckle as he winces again- no apparent change. 

“Did you buy the whole store, sweetheart?” 

“No! Just everything you needed!” He begins pulling items out, listing them as he goes, “dayquil, nyquil, cough drops- three different flavors, pedialyte” he pauses and grabs another bag, “another bear and fuzzy blanket, fuzzy socks, soups, sprite, crackers, tissues AND” he holds up the last item grinning wildly at his score, “new movie for us to watch! To make up for last night…” 

“Hmm you did buy the whole store,” he pouts and sulks for a second before you continue, “thank you so much sweetheart. You're the kindest… most considerate boyfriend ever.” You cough and wince as phlegm shoots out of your mouth onto your closed fist. Ew. 

Lars jumps up, grabbing the bottle of dayquil before ripping it open and measuring out the correct amount, handing the cup to you with shaky hands. You drink it, throat burning as you swallow it before coughing loudly at the disgusting flavor. A hand appears in your vision, the uncapped bottle of pedialyte firming grasped in it. You giggle and take a sip before it appears once more, holding out a cough drop. 

He's a mother hen right now. 

He grabs the items and walks towards the kitchen, organizing the items on the counter. He returns once more, the new blanket, bear and socks gripped firmly in his large hands with a napkin peaking out of it. He hands you the napkin for your hand before kneeling at your feet, hands now bare as he covers your freezing toes with the soft material of the new socks. You giggle at the sensation, his fingers accidentally tickling your skin before chucking the dirty napkin at the table. He chuckles and crawls up towards your head before pulling the new blanket around your body and tucking you in gently. The new bear appears at your neck and nuzzles it's way in, making a new home next to your old one. Lars leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead, lips lingering on your hot skin.

“All better?” 

You hum dramatically and speak, voice crackling painfully, “Hmmm better. Not alllll better but better…” 

He pouts and sits up straighter on his heels, eyes flickering over the room as he tries to remember what he forgot. 

“Awww, nooo. What did I forget?” 

“Some cuddles!” 

He sighs loudly as his body shakes, relief flooding his body, “wooo, thank goodness! I thought I forgot something from the store!” He stands and pauses, thinking about how to maneuver you. You just slide to the edge of the edge of the couch, leaving a small gap for him to slide into while you pat the area. He stands and leans over you before you stop him.

“Lars” He pauses and he eyes shoot towards yours, “shoes and jacket, baby.” 

He shoots back and yanks off his shoes and jacket, throwing them haphazardly on the floor as he trips and stutters loudly. He stands in front of you, and nods once, cheering quietly as you nod back. He hops over you gently, settling his soft stomach against your back as he leans on his elbow next to your head. 

His hand comes up and hovers next to your head before gently resting on you, fingers threading softly in your hair. It surprises you, but you don't show it, letting Lars feel comfortable and safe and exploring your body as he wants. He relaxes finally, his head resting on the couch's arm as he plays with your hair and locks a leg in between yours, intertwining himself with your body. 

He hums then, a low rattle that vibrates your chest- filling you with a warmth you've been waiting for. You cough softly and relax back into him, feeling the way that his chest stiffens before relaxing and curling into you protectively. 

“What movie did you get sweetheart?” 

He jumps back up and groans loudly, “the movie darn it!” He shifts and awkwardly vaults over you, letting out soft, persistent apologies as he moves your aching body. He grabs the case and waves it around happily, “The Princess Bride! It's a classic, you're going to love it!” 

You just giggle and sniffle a bit, not willing to tell him you've already seen the movie countless times. He slides the disk into the player and starts the movie, grabbing the remote as he rushes back to cuddle once more. He resumes his position behind you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as his fingers find your hair again, scratching lightly at your scalp. You find yourself drifting off against him, headache easing and chest pressure slowly releasing as your body relaxes into his comforting, warm embrace. 

He makes you feel better… safer… and more loved. 

“Are you feeling all better now?” 

“Yeah, all better Lars” He hums and presses another kiss to your temple, lips lingering as your eyes flutter closed again. “I love you, baby.”