You stare down at the motorcycle, a frown pulling at your lips. He… wants you to sit behind him? For a moment, you wonder if he’s joking with you, but you quickly brush that thought away. Luke didn’t joke when it came to his bike, or who he allowed on it. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sitting on his bike, right behind him, arms wrapped around his waist…

But you feel anxiety simmer in your belly. A fear that you’ll be too big to fit behind him. You have a… shapely figure. Chubby. Luke seemed to like it a lot, which makes you feel good about yourself. You liked your body, but sometimes, believing that anyone else could like it too was difficult. Luke is obsessed; always touching you, always on you, squeezing and kissing and biting and talking dirty.

And now he wants you on his bike. And… you’re afraid. Because if you don’t fit, you’ll die of embarrassment and be forced to move countries and start a new life. Naturally.

“Erm…” You fiddled with your fingers nervously. “Are you sure?”

Luke isn’t an idiot. He might not have gone to college or anything, but he sure as hell isn’t an idiot. He can hear your thoughts, practically smell your anxiety. It makes his heart warm and sink at the same time. He wants to tease you, because you’re never self-conscious about your body and he finds it amusing that you suddenly are. But he holds back. He doesn’t want you to feel bad.

The cool evening breeze ruffles through his hair. He takes a step closer to you, holding onto the helmet he was about to force on your head whether you liked it or not. Had to keep your pretty face and brain safe. The street light casts shadows on his face, the empty street quiet, as if only the two of you exist.

“Yeah,” Luke murmurs around his cigarette, sending you one of his amused, inside smiles he uses exclusively when thinking about you. “Wanna feel your tits on my back.”