Sub Blue Just... Yea🤭

Big day for deranged evangelical freaks

JAYVIK X READERRRR UGGH

Risky Business

word count: 5.5k

contains: modern/college au, no preestablished romantic relationships (viktor and reader are besties that torment jayce /hj), frat bro/lacrosse player!jayce, honors student!viktor, art kid!reader, switch!jayce, dom!viktor, switch!reader, bottom!jayce, top!viktor, alcohol, weed, drug use, stoner!viktor & stoner!reader, oral sex (blowjob & pussy eat), anal sex, cock milking, safe sex & proper use of lube!!! (wrap it before you tap it & never do anal without lube), doggy style, too many mentions of prostate/cock/dick/pussy/cunt, praise kink, corruption kink, virgin!jayce, teasing, praise, pet names (golden boy/darling/sweetheart/baby), vaginal sex, somewhat animalistic/rough sex, we swallow not spit, cervix bruising, multiple orgasms, jayce aims to please, jayce’s cock is too powerful, lightweight!jayce (bro can't handle the weed), viktor and reader are menaces, one off mention of public sex, humiliation if you squint

summary: jayce embarks on a spiritual journey of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll with the help of his two hottest classmates at his fraternity's risky business themed party.

a/n: shoutout to this fic's beta reader @zevrra <3 they're awesome and write amazing arcane content!

Stale booze, pungent smoke from loosely rolled joints, and people making out in every room of the house are the trifecta of a typical frat house party. Yet, things have been turned up to a hundred and fifty for Greek Week’s Battle of the Greeks, each frat and sorority house on the Row competing to be the Greek Life chapter. For Piltover University’s Sigma Phi Delta, Greek Week means maintaining their incumbent title. 

Jayce, the newest recruit and brother, has the most unfortunate task for the party: keeping drunken idiots from destroying every inch of the frat house. Not that he minds, of course! Despite his charming looks and demeanor, Jayce Talis despises parties. Sure, a party of twenty people or less is fine, but a party at this level of insanity? Pure nightmare fuel.

To make matters worse for poor Jayce, someone from Sigma Phi Delta (he has his suspicion of who was responsible, a certain snobby blonde named Allira Salo) had suggested Risky Business as the theme for this year’s Battle of the Greeks. Now, here’s Jayce, standing by the drinks table in nothing but grey boxers, crew socks, and the longest button down he could find. D.M.S.R. by Prince plays over the speakers, a staple from the movie and the perfect party song.

Jayce nurses a Red Solo cup of cheap liquor in his hands, but he hadn’t taken a single sip. Whenever a frat brother or chatty drunk girl would come up to him, Jayce would feign drinking and laugh like a gleeful drunkard, playing along in the hopes they would skitter away to their next victim.

“Not much of a drinker, huh?” someone shouts to him over the loud beat of the funk track. Jayce looks down–he has to look down at everyone on the campus–and sees you, a classmate from his ART 106 class, Drawing for Non-Majors. Everyone pursuing a degree at Piltover University is required to take a “Creativity and Creative Development” class as part of their core curriculum. Drawing for Non-Majors happens to be the only art Jayce believes he could net an easy ‘A’ in. 

“How could you tell?” he yells back, as the music switches to The Dream is Always the Same, a somewhat psychedelic song. You tease the rim of your cup, bubbling lemon-lime soda inside, “You’re the least giddy frat boy at the party.”

Jayce eyes the way you guide your manicured finger around the cup and has to tear away his gaze to answer, “Yeah, makes sense. I got tasked with ‘drunk dumbass’ duty, so it’s better to be sober if some ass tries to pick a fight and break something.”

You give a nod and hold up your cup to Jayce, “Care for some Sprite then?”

Jayce’s eyes widen at your offer, “But you,” he blinks his surprise away, “That’s your drink.”

“Sharing is caring,” you chuckle. 

Jayce grabs the cup from you and examines it; never has he taken an already consumed drink from someone else, nonetheless from a cute girl like you. It’s like an indirect kiss! Oh, Jayce Talis–the cheesy romantic–is not one to kiss and tell, but he could count on one hand how many people he has kissed. Now or never. Jayce takes a timid sip from the cup and relishes in the refreshing taste, “Oh God, I needed that.”

“Good!” you take the cup back and down the rest of it. Now, this is an indirect kiss! Jayce’s tanned cheeks warm up at the realization and he fans himself with his free hand. Seeing his overheated face, you tilt your head and ask, “Too hot? Wanna come with me to a cooler spot?”

“Oh! Uh,” the frat boy runs through the possible outcomes if he does or doesn’t follow you. What if a fight happens while he’s occupied? What if you think he’s a bummer for not joining you? What if– “You don’t have to,” you add on and shrug, “If you don’t wanna.”

“No!” he exclaims, a bit too loud. Jayce quickly masks his enthusiasm with a fake cough, “Lead the way,” he flashes you his ‘Golden Boy’ smile. Please don’t think I’m an inexperienced loser.

“Cool,” you toss your cup in the nearby trash can and grab Jayce by the wrist, barely able to wrap your whole hand around it. Through the mobs of partying sorority girls, people cheering on a frat brother’s keg stand, and folks getting way too into dancing, you lead Jayce outside to the back of the frat house. A few party attendees are lounging about in the backyard, some of which are couples making out or people exchanging joints. 

“Viktor!” you call out. Sitting around some abandoned lawn chairs, a thin man with shaggy shoulder-length hair and a flannel perks up. He waves the two of you over and you each find a chair to occupy. Jayce examines the stickers on Viktor’s cane.

“Hey,” Viktor greets you both, his accent rich and thick.

“H- Hey,” Jayce attempts to be nonchalant, but fails miserably when his baritone voice cracks into soprano range. He recognizes Viktor from many of his engineering classes, but he never had the opportunity to chat one on one with him. Yet, judging by the hordes of engineering students seeking the cane user out for tutoring, Jayce doesn’t want to come off as needing such assistance–well, some assistance would be appreciated–or that he would use Viktor for it.

“Cute,” Viktor lets out a deep chuckle, honey amber eyes glowing almost eerily under the full moon’s light, “The Golden Boy’s a bit shy, huh?” 

“Oh, for sure,” you snort. Jayce pouts and averts his eyes from the two of you, only to have you tilt his chin back up with the tip of your finger, “We only tease in good faith,” you coo, “I take it that you know Jayce, Vik?”

“Everyone does,” he answers. Jayce pouts again and Viktor stifles back a laugh, “Also he’s my classmate in about half of my classes,” the pretty haired–Pretty haired?! Jayce, get it together!–boy leans closer and Jayce can smell the familiar stink of weed on his flannel, “I thoroughly enjoyed seeing your Rube Goldberg machine unfold during our class with Professor Hemingdinger.”

“Haha, yeah, that machine,” the engineering student cringes. You raise your eyebrows at the exchange, “Oh no, what happened?”

“The concept was ingenious, I must say,” states Viktor, “A creative way to dispense a cup of coffee for our dear professor,” Jayce buries his face into his sleeves of his varsity jacket, as Viktor continues, “However, Jayce miscalculated the placement of the coffee pot.”

“Don’t tell me,” your cheeks puff up to hold back your laughter. 

“Cue our poor professor drenched in coffee!” the cane user laughs. You break and join in, boisterous laughter ringing through Jayce’s ears. The frat boy peers up at the exchange and comments, “At- At least, it was lukewarm coffee…”

“Thank God,” you calm down from your laughing fit, “If it was any warmer, I’m afraid that you would have been sued,” Viktor nods along in agreement. Jayce runs his large, veiny hands through his clean-cut hair, “Okay, okay. Enough is enough.”

“Sorry,” you throw an arm around Jayce’s shoulders and pull him close, the scent of your strawberry perfume strong and intoxicating to the frat boy, “We can make it up to you, if you want.”

“How so?” he inquires.

You give Viktor a wink and he returns it with a thumbs up. Viktor snatches his worn out satchel from the leaf-covered ground and rummages through its content. It takes a moment or two before Viktor procures the object of desire, a baggie of green flowery clumps.

“Please tell me that’s oregano,” Jayce pleads.

“Nope,” the cane user confirms, “One hundred percent pure marijuana.”

“Don’t worry! Vik has a med card, so it’s like… totally legal,” you reassure Jayce with a pat on the cheek. Jayce bites his tongue to prevent himself from saying something utterly stupid, “Are you sure it’s okay? We won’t get in trouble?” Okay, nevermind, he does say something utterly stupid.

“As long as you’re not a narc,” replies Viktor. He sets the baggie down and pulls a few more items from his satchel: rolling paper, filter paper, and a grinder, “Watch the master at work,” 

Viktor grinds up a clump of flower; once properly grounded up to his liking, he places the filter paper on one end of the rolling paper, followed by the flower. He rolls it up flawlessly and seals it, producing a perfectly made joint, before making two more joints.

“Here,” he holds out a joint to Jayce. With shaky hands, Jayce accepts the joint with visible hesitation, almost dropping in the process. You squeeze his shoulder and murmur, “Don’t worry, the first time can be scary, but we can help you.”

“How?” questions Jayce. A sparkle of mischief flickers in your eyes, “Lemme show you,” you hop off your lawn chair and approach Viktor. You plop down on his lap and throw your legs over the arm of the chair, twirling a strand of Viktor’s tousled locks, “Light me up, baby.”

Viktor pulls out a silver lighter from his jeans pocket and you place the joint between your lips, letting it dangle. Jayce watches with bated breath, as Viktor flicks the lighter open and holds the flame by your joint. Once lit, you take a drag of it and inhale some of the smoke. You pull the joint out, cheeks puffed out with smoke, and beckon Viktor to come closer. Leaning in, you press your lips against Viktor’s and exhale, allowing the thinner man to consume the rest of the smoke, as the two of you kiss. 

Jayce gawks at the sight of you making out, the way you tug at Viktor’s hair and the way he grips at your sides stirs something inside the frat boy, “And that’s called shotgunning!” you finish the kiss up and inform Jayce, “Just make sure you part your lips before I shotgun you, or else we’ll waste some good smoke,” you offer him a lopsided smile, “Wanna give it a try?”

“Sure,” he nods. You move from Viktor’s lap and onto Jayce’s, the joint still lit in your hand. Jayce swallows any fear away, as you lay the joint between your lips and breathe in the smoke, the lit end lighting up with the inhalation. You pass the joint over to Viktor for him to hold and he steals a few hits, as you moved closer and closer and–

Jayce’s lips connect with yours and he parts them just enough for you to push smoke into his mouth. It travels down his throat and into his lungs, burning and irritating. Jayce breaks away from the kiss to cough, spluttering out hot smoke. You rub his back while he hacks up a lung, “Yikes, yeah, that happens a lot to beginners.” 

“Have some water,” Viktor passes off his water bottle and Jayce snatches it, drinking up all the liquid like a dehydrated man crawling through the Sahara Desert. He coughs a bit more up and finally settles down, “When does this-” he cuts himself off, as a fuzzy feeling suddenly clouds his mind. Jayce closes his eyes, then opens them, and then closes them again, “Wow,” he giggles, “Feels nice…”

“Please tell me that he didn’t just get high off one hit,” begs Viktor.

“I think he got high off one hit,” you answer. You prepare yourself to disembark from Jayce’s lap, but stop yourself, “Jayce,” he looks at you with wide eyes, “Yeah?”

“Why are you hard?” you question him. 

Jayce’s eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets at your inquiry. He jerks his head down and sees his predicament, a noticeable tent in his boxers. His face turns a deep shade or crimson red, “N- No, fuck, I’m so so so sorry- I don’t know why-” 

You place a finger against his lips to shush, “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll take care of you,” you whisper into his ear and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “I know for a fact that you find me and Viktor very attractive, mhm? I saw the way you looked at us while we kissed.”

“And so what if I do?” the frat boy retorts, puffing out his chest in an effort to appear manly and confident. Yet, his resolve crumbles the moment you press your chest up against his torso, the fabric of your shirts being the only barrier, “We find you very attractive, too.”

Between the haze dulling his brain and the lustful stares of two stunning individuals on him, Jayce Talis caves in and whimpers to you, “Please, take care of me.”

“Good boy,” you peck him on the lips, “Show us the way to your room.”

Like an obedient pup, Jayce rapidly nods and helps you off his lap. Viktor nearly chokes on his joint when he sees Jayce’s boner, “What the fuck, you’re huge,” and earns a slap to the back of the head from you, “Don’t announce it!” you hiss to him, “He’s ours.” 

Those two or so words send shivers down Jayce’s spine. He’s ours. All Jayce ends is to be wanted; his efforts on the lacrosse team, his performance in class, everything he does is motivated by his need to be praised. He squeezes himself between you and Viktor in a line as a makeshift hiding spot for his boner and guides the two of you back inside the frat house. You three weave and dodge various obstacles, such as neglected soda cans and a sorority girl threatening to puke on you. Upstairs, a few people are scattered about the hallway, but none pay any mind to you all. You make your way to Jayce’s room and he opens the door, allowing you and Viktor to enter.

Jayce’s room is somewhat stereotypical of an athletic frat boy with messy bedsheets and posters of famous athletes on his wall. However, he has a few so-called nerdy things in his room, including a mechanical model of the Solar System and a Lego-built U.S.S Enterprise from Star Trek. You make yourself comfortable on Jayce’s bed while Viktor borrows the desk chair and Jayce sits on the floor. 

“Sooooooo…” the lacrosse player twiddles his thumbs, “How do we fix this?”

“What do you mean?” Viktor scoffs, “Haven’t you gotten a blowjob or a handjob before?”

Jayce’s silence speaks volumes and you connect the dots, “Oh. My. God. Jayce fucking Talis is a virgin.”

“No! I’m- well-” the virginal accused racks his brain to deny the allegations, “It’s- Ugh, okay, it’s true,” he confirms to you and Viktor, “It’s not that I have a vow of celibacy or anything, just that I wanted to save it for someone special.”

“It’s kinda cute,” you giggle softly while Viktor jokes, “And they say chivalry is dead. Good on you for defying frat bro stereotypes.”

“Are you gonna tease me all night or is one of you gonna choke on my fucking cock already?” Jayce’s filter went offline, the effects of weed taking more of an effect. 

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” answers Viktor. You blow him a ‘good luck’ kiss and get cozy for the show. Viktor rises from the chair and leads Jayce to the bed; he sits down next to you, now face level to Jayce’s pelvis, “Drop those boxers, Golden Boy.”

Jayce tugs down his boxers and haphazardly shakes them off his legs. Now free from its confinement, his cock bounces freely, on display for you and Viktor to admire. Viktor sizes up Jayce’s dick—as thick as his wrist and as long as one and a half pencils stacked—and mumble to himself, “Damn, this is a virgin killer.”

“Impressed?” Jayce strikes the Superman pose and smiles. Viktor wraps a hand around his cock and gives it a light tug, watching as Jayce’s cockiness vanishes in an instant, “Yeah. It’s pretty impressive,” Viktor lines his lips up to the top of Jayce’s dick and opens his mouth, carefully sliding him inside. A soft moan tumbles Jayce’s lips from the sensation, as Viktor’s hot and wet mouth costs his cock. Inch by inch, Viktor takes more and more of Jayce’s length until he gets all but an inch in, a small bulge pointing from under his Adam’s Apple. Testing the waters, Viktor goes agonizingly slow with the blowjob, taking his sweet time to pull back until only the tip is inside. 

“Please go faster,” Jayce whines. Viktor lets out a muffled chuckle, the vibration ever so pleasant against Jayce’s shaft, and picks up the pace. He bobs his head up and down the length of Jayce’s cock, occasionally running his tongue down the prominent vein underneath and twirling it around the mushroom tip. Combined with the weed, Jayce is experiencing pure bliss, as he jerks his hips forward and shoves his dick deeper down Viktor’s throat. The smaller man gags at the sudden change, but quickly recovers, letting Jayce fuck his throat. Jayce thrusts his pelvis forward and slams his cock deep inside Viktor, gripping the receiver’s shoulders for extra support. Spit leaks from Viktor’s mouth, his hooked nose smacking into Jayce’s well-trimmed pubes, as Jayce assaults his throat with his fat cock. 

“Oh, shit!” the lacrosse player grunts, “I think I’m gonna-” he doesn’t have time to warn Viktor before climaxing, shooting sticky hot cum down the other man’s throat. Once positive that Jayce had finished orgasming, Viktor unhinges himself from the taller man’s cock and coughs up some cum. He swipes it off his lips and licks it off his fingers, “Salty.”

“Did you swallow all of that?” you ask, eyes as big as saucers, “He came for- like- two whole minutes.”

“Spitters are quitters,” he jests in retort. You playfully smack his arm and turn your attention to Jayce, “How are you feeling?” 

“Amazing,” he pants, face flustered, “Just one issue, though.”

“What’s up?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“I’m still hard,” the frat bro points downward, his cock still hard as a rock. Viktor looks over at you and rasps, “Tapping you in.”

“More than happy to have my turn, take five to recover,” you tell Viktor. He leaves the bed and returns to the desk chair, massaging his throat. You focus in on Jayce and pull him onto the bed, “Ready to try some pussy?” you coo.

Eager, Jayce nods in response, his mouth salivating at the thought of eating you out. You obligate his desires and strip yourself of your jeans, leaving only your cherry red undies left, “Take them off and have a look.”

Jayce follows your command without question, pulling your panties down your thighs and off your legs. You spread your legs open and Jayce bears witness to his first ever not porn-related pussy. Some wetness spills from your slit and onto the bed, you’re simply drenched. He hooks his hands around your legs and pulls you closer to his face, inhaling the smell of your divine cunt. The scent alone sends Jayce into a needy state, rutting his weeping cock against the mattress for some form of relief. Yet, he wants—no, needs—to focus on the task at hand, pleasing you.

“Give it a try, I’ll guide you,” you inform Jayce. With a timid nod, the frat bro dives right in and licks a long stripe from the bottom of your entrance to the top of your clit. You shudder and curl your toes, as Jayce experiments with a variety of methods. He sucks on your clit, first gentle then hard, altering to see which one you like more. It seems that you prefer hard, taking sharp breaths whenever he sucks like so. Above, you rip off your T-shirt and bra, freeing your breasts. You gesture for Viktor to come over and he does, finding a suitable position before latching onto one of your tits. Sweet mewls escape your lips while your boys have their way with you, Jayce now confident enough to devour your cunt like an animal and Viktor groping at your unoccupied tit while he suckles the other. 

“Fuck!” you croak out a shaky moan, as the knot in your stomach snaps, releasing a wet wave onto Jayce’s mouth and face. He happily laps up your juices, consuming every ounce he possibly could. You give yourself a minute to recover, Viktor laying beside you and tracing miscellaneous shapes on your skin while Jayce rests his head on your thighs. 

“Good job, boys,” you announce. You give each man a tender kiss on the lips as a reward, “You two should make out with each other.”

“Okay!” Jayce cheerily complies while Viktor merely shrugs. Viktor takes your spot on the bed and lays down fully. Jayce hovers over him, one leg on each side of Viktor’s petite waist. Only once did Jayce Talis ever kissed a boy and that had happened in middle school, but kissing boys is just like kissing girls… completely nerve-racking! 

“Just kiss me already,” huffs Viktor, yanking Jayce by the collar and slamming his lips against his. Jayce lets out a surprised yelp, but adjusts. Viktor’s free hand travels around Jayce’s waist and to his back, landing on his ass. He smacks Jayce’s ass, earning a moan from the other man, and begins groping it without remorse.

“Dude,” Viktor pauses the kiss to get your attention, “You have to feel this ass, it’s like pound cake.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” you make your way to Jayce’s backside, grabbing his ass and feeling it up, “Damn, Jayce! You have a whole bakery here!”

“Uh, thanks?” Jayce answers, unsure if that’s a compliment or not. You give Jayce your own smack on the ass, “Nice ass, Golden Boy. Now, get back to making out with my best friend.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he exclaims before he resumes kissing Viktor. Meanwhile, you utilize this opportunity to ‘rub one out’, as you play with your clit and folds. You shove a finger inside and whimper, visualizing Jayce’s finger in its place. Another finger is soon added later and you bite your tongue to suppress any ungodly noises. 

“Hey, is it cool if I fuck him first?” Viktor asks you, receiving a weak thumbs up in return because you’re too busy jerking off to properly speak, “I’ll take that as a yes. Jayce, go get a condom from my bag.”

Jayce picks up Viktor’s satchel from the side of the bed and peeks inside, scooting various items out of the way before locating a roll of condoms, “I didn’t think you were the kinda guy to have a whole roll of condoms in your bag, Viktor.”

“Blame that one over there,” Viktor points over to you, who’s too entranced in pleasure to comment, “She likes to fuck everywhere.”

Jayce blushes at the thought; if you like to fuck everywhere, did you ever fuck in the arts classroom? His cock twitches when he imagines you and Viktor fucking in that classroom. Maybe, they’ll let me join them next time, Jayce ponders. 

Viktor shimmies off his pants and boxers, revealing his own equally impressive cock. It’s definitely not as long as Jayce’s, but Viktor rivals him in terms of girth. The man in question  rips off a condom from the roll and opens up its packaging, rolling the condom down his shaft, “Ready?”

“Wait, why am I the bottom?” he huffs.

You and Viktor stare at Jayce in silence, only the muffled echos of the party downstairs can be heard.

“Okay, you’re right, but still,” he concedes. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” states Viktor, genuine care in lieu of dry humor. Jayce smiles to himself at the reassurance and positions himself above Viktor, his hole dangerously close to his dick. 

“Got any lube?” asks Viktor.

“Yeah, in the top drawer of my dresser,” responds Jayce.

“Sweetheart,” the smaller man calls out to you, “Be a dear and grab the lube. No one’s raw-dogging anal tonight.”

“On it!” you approach Jayce’s dresser and open the top drawer. Among the stacks of underwear and socks, you find a bottle of lube, half of it already used, “Want me to lube you up, Jayce?”

“Sure,” he consents. You squirm some lube on your hand and Viktor pries Jayce’s cheeks open, granting you access to his hole. Jayce hisses at the coldness while you lube up his hole, taking time to finger him loose for extra measure, “All ready!”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Viktor smiles and pecks you on the lips, “Now, enjoy the show,” he lines his cock to Jayce’s asshole and guides him downward. Viktor’s cock pierces through Jayce’s untouched hole and Jayce swears he sees stars in that moment. The feeling of a dick in his ass is definitely a new feeling, as Jayce gives himself grace to adjust to Viktor’s size. The other man strokes the sides of Jayce’s legs as a means of distraction, “Take all the time you need, darling.”

Pain soon morphs into pleasure and Jayce moans loudly, “Fuck! This is nice!” He begins to ride Viktor’s cock, his own dick bouncing up and down with each movement. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, the overwhelmed pleasure incapacitating any reasonable thought in Jayce’s head. Jayce steadies himself with the help of his headboard, continuing to hop on Viktor’s dick like a rabbit in heat. Cum drips from his cock onto Viktor’s pelvis, but he pays no mind to it, too fixated on Jayce’s blissed out expression. Viktor joins in with Jayce’s bouncing and thrusts his dick upward whenever Jayce goes downwards. He positions his cock just right to hit Jayce’s prostate, sending full body shivers through the larger man.

“There, there!” Jayce eggs Viktor on. Using Jayce’s hips for support, Viktor pistons his dick in and out of Jayce, relishing in each inclited moan and plea from the lacrosse player. To Jayce, each collision against his prostate feels like winning at the slot machines. One final thrust grants Jayce with the jackpot win, as he climaxes and coats Viktor’s torso in cum. Viktor follows afterwards and grunts, spilling his cum into the condom.

“Congratulations,” Viktor lets out a pant, rubbing circular motions with his thumbs against Jayce’s aides, “You just lost your anal virginity.”

Jayce tries to reply, but all that comes out of his mouth is incoherent babbles of pleasure subsiding. With Viktor’s assistance, he carefully slides off Viktor’s dick and promptly collapses on the bed beside him, his poor hole throbbing. Viktor removes the condom from his now flaccid cock and ties it shut; he tosses it into the small trash can and eyes you up, “I think he might be done for the night.”

“I’m not!” Jayce refutes, “See, look!” he gestures to his cock, still hard. 

“Jesus Christ, did someone spike your drink with Viagra? How are you still hard?” you sputter, “This calls for drastic measures.”

“Drastic measures?” questions Viktor. 

“I’m gonna milk that cock,” you proclaim.

You and Viktor swap places while Jayce regains his energy for another fuck. Engulfing Jayce in a side hug, you quietly hum to him, “What position do you wanna do? I’m a fan of missionary and doggy style.” 

“Can we do doggy style?” he requests.

You snicker, “You’re not gonna be beating the golden retriever boy allegations anytime soon,” you roll over and get on your hands and knees, “I’m all yours for the taking, Golden Boy.”

Jayce rises up from the bed and gets behind you, your ass hitched up and slick leaking down your inner thighs. He gropes your ass a bit and gives it a few smacks as playback, “Nice,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“Are you gonna keep admiring me or are you gonna fuck me already?” you sway your hips at Jayce, his cock twitching hard. Viktor tosses him an unused condom and Jayce rolls the rubber over the entirety of his shaft. Now properly prepared, he lines his dick up to your entrance and rubs it with the tip, making sure you’re wet enough for him to enter. You let out a low whine and Jayce takes it as a sign to slide in, doing so methodically and with as much gentleness as he could muster. 

“So big…” you mewl, taking each inch of Jayce’s length like a trooper. By the time he finally bottoms out, there’s a noticeable bulge by the lower half of your stomach. Jayce caresses your stomach and finds the bulge, silently gawking at the sheer power of his size. On the other hand, you’re able to faint if Jayce Talis doesn’t fuck you yet, so you take matters into your own hands and pull back a bit on his cock before smacking your bottom against it. Jayce snaps into focus and grabs your hips, digging his nails into your supple flesh. His chest presses up against your back and he groans in your ear, “Eager, aren’t you?”

“Says the guy who just lost his virginity five minutes ago,” you fire back. Jayce responds with a sharp thrust and you replace your sass with a shameless moan. The frat bro starts thrusting in and out, making small modifications to his movements that incite the biggest reaction from you. Jayce finds it very hard not to pin you down and fuck the life out of you, he’s a gentleman like his mamá raised him to be. However, you’re more than willing to get the life fucked out of you, as you beg to Jayce, “Please! Fuck me, fuck me like an animal! I want you to destroy my cunt!”

All logic, all reason, went out the window the moment you tell Jayce to destroy your cunt. He buries your face into the bedsheets and latches a hand onto one of your tit while the other locks around your waist. You realize what a big man Jayce Talis is when he pins you, easily trapping you under his size. The sound of skin slapping against skin and filthy moans fill the bedroom, as Jayce growls to you, “You want me to destroy your cunt, huh?” 

Smack! 

“You want me to bruise that cervix of you, make you unable to walk for days?”

Smack! Smack! 

“I wonder what kind of excuse you would have to use to justify such a prolonged absence.”

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

“Sorry, Professor! I missed last class because Golden Boy Jayce Talis destroyed my tight, little cunt!”

“Jayce, please, please!” you sob against the bedsheets, tears of pleasure and arousal running down your cheeks, “Bruise my cervix! Do whatever you want, just fuck me!”

Jayce grits his teeth and picks up his pace, the bed rocking and creaking with each thrust. He looks over at an awfully quiet Viktor, only to see the stoner stroke himself off at the sight of his best friend getting fucked. That pushes Jayce to the limit and he lifts you up, holding against his body while he relentlessly fucks you. Any noise that comes out of your pretty little mouth is either pitiful cries or moans forced out by Jayce’s pistoning.

“Ready for me, pretty girl?” he rasps, as his third orgasm of the night builds up, “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes! Yes!” you wail. In a flash, Jayce flips you over so you’re facing him and his lips clash against yours, a passionate kiss to silence his orgasmic moans while he climaxes. Near the desk, Viktor climaxes, as well, covering his mouth with his hand to suppress his moans. Your walls clench around Jayce’s shaft and you keep him inside your pussy until you milk every last drop from his beast of a cock. 

Finally flaccid, Jayce pulls out of your cunt and falls exhausted by your side, completely drained. Viktor joins the two of you on the bed and snuggles up close to your left while you rub Jayce’s back on your right. 

“That was so hot,” comments Viktor.

“Agree,” you tack on.

Jayce mumbles something against the bedsheets, but neither you nor Viktor can decipher what he says. You turn on your side and hug Jayce from behind, “Congratulations on losing your virginity, we’ll get you an ice cream cake to celebrate it tomorrow.”

“Yay…” he weakly cheers, “I love ice cream cake,” you chuckle quietly and kiss his back a few times, “Good job, very good job.”

“Hey, where’s my aftercare?” Viktor mockingly frowns. You pull away from Jayce and kiss him on the lips; you then pull away and pinch his cheeks, “Ouch!” he hisses, “You’re a dick.”

“And you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world!” you tease. Viktor rolls his eyes and sets back into the bed. With a handsome boy on each side of you, you smile fondly to yourself and bask in the glory. 

“We’re definitely doing this again.”

giving a sleepy, overworked viktor head late in the lab..? and because hes so tired he's just dumb and needy....???? (ig somno if you squint)

18+ ᴍᴅɴɪ

“what do i have to do to pull you away from that?” you sighed, practically hanging off the back of your lover’s chair. you took a quick glance at the clock in the corner of the room, soon to approach midnight. viktor answered you with a simple, deflective hum and you rolled your eyes. if he didn’t complain about the exhaustion making his chronic pain flare up, you would have pulled him away from that desk with your bare hands and throw him on the nearest plush surface. you sighed again, a little louder this time, a little pointed.

“am i boring you, love?” he rasped, exhaustion heavily coating his voice and thickening his accent.

“you really can’t take your eyes off that thing for just a second?” you leant down over his shoulder, exasperatedly nodding toward his project. “not. one. second.” he answered, not even raising his eyes to meet yours, focused entirely on scribbling down what looked to be an equation.

oh. you took that as a challenge.

wordlessly, you gently nudged the wheels of his chair away from its place flush against his desk. he barely noticed, only giving you a slight furrow of his thick brows. you rounded the chair in front of him and slowly sank to your knees. “not one second?” you tilted your head coquettishly. at your words, he allowed himself to spare a glance at you, kneeling before him, under his desk. his breath hitched in his throat, trapping his response in his chest. a glance was all he could afford if he wanted to focus. even in the dim lamplight, you could see the faintest brush of pink across his cheeks. smirking triumphantly, you carefully reach up for the zipper of his pants. he loudly clears his throat when he feels your fingers so close.

“darling.” he called as a warning, stopping short in his work but still refusing to tear his eyes off of it.

“you want me to stop?” you asked earnestly, though you were sure you already knew the answer. he fixed you with a look. a permissive look, but a firm look, like an ‘i can’t resist this but i also won’t endorse it’ kind of look. you bit down on your grinning lip and pulled his pants down entirely. you could feel him tensing his muscles under your hands, willing himself to keep his focus on his work. you slowly pulled his cock from his constraints, giving it a single kiss on the head.

a soft groan rumbled in his throat, one hand dropping his pen and moving to cover his mouth. he could not look at you. he could not look at you. if he looked at you, he’d be done for the night, his brain would be absolutely fried and, oh, goddammit. your cheeks are hollowed, pretty plump lips wrapped around him, mischievous eyes glinting up at him. “fuck.” he groans again, closing his eyes and letting them open in your direction, finally. you braced your hands on his thighs, making sure to dig your nails into the pillowy flesh of his good leg. you finally got those pretty whines to come out. “evil…” his chest rises and falls heavily with each labored breath, becoming more and more ragged the more you fill your mouth with him. “evil woman.”

you giggle as much as you can with him on your tongue and it vibrates oh so good around him, causing him to toss his head back and whimper, “please…” one hand blindly reaches for your hair, gently tangling his long fingers in your locks, guiding you. oh, you’ve got him now. “oh, god, please don’t stop…” you will yourself to take him as deep as you can, and he hisses as he feels his cock hit the back of your throat. he opens his eyes to check on you, pulling you off for a moment. he takes the brief respite to tilt your chin up and give you a few quick kisses, babbling things like sweet girl and i love you so much and i’m sorry for neglecting my poor little darling and i could never say no to that pretty face in between. you can’t help but giggle at his sleepy verbage, more mushy than usual.

“that’s cute.” you take his hand off your chin, threading your own fingers through his. looking at his achingly hard cock. “i wasn’t done, though.”

he gives you one of his cocky, lopsided smiles and pats his lap. “no, no you weren’t.”

Sick of masturbating i want someone to rail me until i cant see straight

This blog is pro tits and anti Nazi

santiago garcia- love at first sight

Summary: Will and Benny bring over Frankie and Santiago for dinner. For Santiago, it’s love at first sight. (~3k)

Contents: no smut, fluffy and fun, fem reader, sexual implications and jokes, this whole thing is group banter and flirting with Santiago, reader had one night with Benny a long time ago

-----

You almost kick the four of them out of your house. Almost.

Will had immediately picked up a football that your nephews had left at your house, thrown it to Benny, and broken a lamp.

Benny had made himself a cold cut sandwich and eaten half, even though he knew you were making them a huge welcome dinner.

Frankie got the other half of the sandwich. He’d apologized, but he’d still eaten it.

And then there was Santiago.

When Benny said he was stopping by for the night, you were thrilled. He said Will might come. Great. And surprise, two other guys are coming by too.

Everyone was welcome, you’d said. You had a spare room, an office with a pullout couch, and a living room sofa. You knew how to cook for an army ha ha fucking ha.

Francisco Morales, who is tall and shaggy and adorable.

Santiago Garcia, who is not as tall, in no way shaggy, and looks at you like you’re covered in gravy, and he’s going to eat you all the way up.

You kick them all out into the backyard.

On his way out, Santiago dares, he dares, to pretend he doesn’t have enough room to get by you while you’re at the stove. Has to lay his hand on the small of your back to squeeze by.

“Excuse me,” he says politely.

You tap the wooden spoon on the side of the spicy corn you’re frying. You point it at him. “You’re not fooling anyone, Garcia. Keep your mitts to yourself.”

He grins. He tilts his head like, you don’t want that. We both know it.

You jump when Benny’s big hand lands on your shoulder. “Oooh, sweetheart, that smells amazing. Gonna finally put some hair on Pope’s chest with that,” he says.

You look Santiago up and down. “You smooth like a Ken doll?”

He licks his lips, chin tilted up slightly. “Not everywhere.”

His dark, brown eyes lock onto yours. You look away first. Damn.

Benny reaches out and shoves Santiago’s shoulder. Half good-natured, half a little too hard.

“I told you not to flirt with her. She’s already doing all of this for us. She doesn’t need you slobbering all over the back of her neck.” Benny reaches for a roll, fresh from the oven, and you smack his hand. He hisses and shakes it out. “Be nice or I’ll tell Pope how you and I met.”

You shoot him a warning glare.

“I want two rolls before dinner,” Benny says, always angling for more food.

“No, you wait like everyone else.” You slide the basket further away from him.

Benny pauses, then looks at Santiago. “We had sex on prom night. We weren’t even each others’ dates. Which is also why she’s off limits to you. The four of us have a strict bro’s before-“

You clear your throat. “Rethink the end of that phrase, Miller Two. Or you’ll be eating saltine crackers on the side of the road.”

Benny grins. He puts his hands up and backs away.

“Out, both you,” you say.

Benny leaves, but Santiago slides up next to you. He stops short of actually touching you, but you can almost feel his body heat. The scent of him makes your mouth water.

“Let me help you,” he says, smooth and even. “I’m a good cook. I promise.”

Knowing he probably won’t leave you alone, you give him the spoon. At least this way, he’ll be occupied. “Stir that. Don’t burn my corn,” you say.

“I’d never let anything bad happen to your corn.” He stirs slowly, watching the pan. “I hope I get to eat a huge helping of your corn later. I’m sure your corn is fucking delicious.”

Corn should not be sexual.

But you guess Santiago Garcia never met a word he couldn’t make sound like an orgasm waiting to happen.

He shoots a glance at you from the corner of his eye.

Yup. He knows what he’s doing.

With a huff, you check the double-ovens. You’ve made not one, not two, but three pot roasts. And mashed potatoes. And stuffed onions. And the corn and rolls.

You figured four grown-men back from the jungle would ensure no leftovers. Also, you were glad to see Benny and Will alive and mostly uninjured and this was how you expressed happiness.

Although Will seemed to wince when you hugged his middle. You’d interrogate him later.

Of course, you were glad Catfish and Pope were alive and well. You’d only heard about them until today, but you almost felt like you knew them.

Or rather, Frankie seems to be everything you’d heard.

Santiago is a whole other kettle of… corn.

At least he works in silence. He puts in a little more salt, stirs, turns down the heat.

And then he just watches you.

Watches you take the roasts out of the oven and cover them to rest. Watches you check the onions.

“Stop doing that,” you say, gesturing to the glass-fronted cabinet on the other side of the kitchen. It was your grandma’s and still holds her good dishes. “Do you know how to set a table, or do you eat all your meals with a plastic spork?”

“It’s metal actually,” Santiago says seriously.

You almost laugh. Santiago’s eyes light up when he sees you unable to control a smile. He scratches the stubble on his chin, the sound making your stomach flutter.

“I’ll get Will to help. He’ll make sure everything’s in order,” Santiago starts to leave, but turns back. “Hey, I couldn’t get a straight answer out of Benny. You and he still…”

You roll your eyes. “Just set the table, Spork. Do something civilized.”

Santiago smiles. It almost makes him look harmless. “Don’t worry. For the right woman, I’m completely domesticated.”

“I very much doubt that,” you say as you watch him open your back door to call for Will.

Although, he’d been the only one to take off his boots at the front door without being asked. Something your mother always says to watch out for. Means a man has good manners and is thoughtful.

But what does she know? Your father hogs the bucket of popcorn at the movies and leaves empty water glasses all over the house.

But he’s still completely and utterly devoted to you mother. Still brings her flowers. Still pinches her butt when he thinks his kids aren’t looking.

Will nods to you when he walks in the kitchen. His blue eyes see everything. He silently asks if you’re okay. You nod back.

“So, you gonna let this guy stay for dinner?” He claps Santiago on the back.

“He wasn’t the one who broke a lamp.” You give Will a pointed look and he nods in apology.

Santiago opens your grandma’s cabinet and starts taking out plates. The porcelain barely rattles. He’s quick, but careful.

His muscled shoulders flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches in for the bowls. The flowered china should look ridiculous in his hands, but he treats the set of dishes with as much care as you do.

By the time you realize you’ve stopped everything and you’re just standing there, watching him, Will is already smirking, tongue working around the front of his teeth. He picks up the stack of plates, shaking his head.

They clatter slightly.

Santiago points at Will. “Ay, be fucking careful. These look like antiques.”

You have to turn so they don’t see you melt into a puddle of steaming hot goo. Thoughtful, just like your mother said.

You corral Santiago and Will into helping you bring everything to the big, oval table in the dining room. They sit on either side of you.

If you thought it was chaos when they’d arrived, dinner is a 3-ring circus. The serving platters never hit the tablecloth. They inhale everything as soon as it’s passed around.

It’s very gratifying. You’d complain about them chewing with their mouths open, but you don’t because they’re complimenting you between every single bite.

“You guys are like a pack of dogs,” you say. “I mean that as a compliment.”

“She prefers animals to people,” Benny says to Santiago.

“The four of us have seen people do things animals wouldn’t,” Santiago says, breaking into a roll and slathering butter on it. “Hell, we’ve lived dirtier than dogs.”

Frankie points at Santi. “Correct. I have a picture from Afghanistan. Your socks were so gross, they stood up by themselves.”

Your face dissolves into disgust. “No. That’s horrible. This is a dinner table, Frankie.”

“Sorry, mom. Ma’am,” Frankie goes completely red.

There’s a beat of silence before everyone breaks out laughing. Even Frankie, though he looks like he’s in physical pain.

“In Frankie’s defense, we always kind of thought of you like Will and Benny’s family,” Santiago says. “Although now I know that you and Benny used to date-“

“What the fuck did you just say?” Will says, his jaw tight, blue eyes zeroing in on his brother.

Santiago’s face goes slack. “Oh shit.”

Benny’s fork clatters onto his plate.

“Careful with the china,” you yell at him.

“Sorry,” he says, then turns to Will. “We didn’t date. We just…” he motions with his fingers.

Will’s face looks like manslaughter, “no. Don’t tell me anymore.”

Santiago leans in. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

You mime slicing your neck open with your thumb. His face relaxes again, amused.

You turn to Will, seeing how spooled up he is about the revelation that you and Benny had been more than friends once upon a time.

“Will? What’s the dumbest thing you ever did before you were 20?” You ask him.

His jaw works back and forth, his fork swiping through the food on his plate. “Couldn’t really say.”

“The dumbest thing I ever did was your brother, Benjamin Miller,” you say.

“Hey, why do I get hurt in this?” Benny says.

“Shh,” Frankie hushes him.

“It was once, the night we met, and it never happened again,” you say, passing Will the bread basket.

He takes it with a grim look. “We’re going to keep on pretending it never happened.”

“You’re the one who brought Loud Mouth Garcia to dinner. Can’t even keep a secret. How the hell were you ever Delta?” You say to Santiago.

“Persistence,” he says, brown eyes sparkling at you, “I’m a persistence predator.”

Benny clears his throat. “Hey creep-o-saurus-rex, pass the pot roast.”

Santiago picks up the dish and holds it out to Benny, his eyes still on you. “T-rex wasn’t a persistence predator, Benny.”

“Whatever, quit looking at her like you want to eat her out at the dinner table,” he mumbles, scooping food onto his plate.

Will takes a roll out of the basket and beans it off Benny’s head.

“I’m still gonna eat that,” Frankie says, reaching down where it landed on the floor and picking it back up. “Damn good meal.”

You take a moment to look around at this table full of ridiculousness. It’s almost like an out of body experience. Two guys who are like your brothers. One guy who apparently needs a mother figure so badly he’s willing to settle for someone younger than him.

And Santiago Garcia.

You’re going to have a hell of a hard time sneaking him into your room later. Never mind that you can tell he’s going to make you come your brains out at the top of your lungs.

Will taps your foot under the table. He grins at you. “You missed us. Admit it.”

You act like you’re not sure. “I was having a really nice day until you and your chucklefuck friends showed up.”

“We can get hotel rooms. We don’t want to put you out,” Frankie says, his lost puppy eyes working exactly how he’d intended. “You’ve already done enough.”

“I want you all to stay. Trust me,” you reassure him. “I have 2 dozen eggs in the refrigerator for tomorrow morning and big plans for french toast.”

Santiago groans. “You’re going to put me into a coma. But before I go, please, marry me.”

Benny whistles under his breath. “Never heard Pope say the ‘M’ word before.”

“Dibs on Will for the wedding party,” you say, looking at Santiago out of the corner of your eye.

“Okay. I’ll take Benny and Frankie,” Santiago says.

You eye his plate. “Did you like my corn?”

“Fucking loved it.”

You hear chairs pushing back from the table. You and Santiago’s eyes break apart.

“I’m taking my plate outside. You two are making me nauseous,” Will says.

“Right behind you,” Benny picks up his plate and the dish of pot roast.

Frankie looks torn, but eventually gives in and stands too. “Give us a holler when you’re done.” His face gets pink. “Not like done, doing anything. I don’t think you’re going to do it right here. But it’s your house. If you want to.”

Will sighs. “Catfish, quit while you’re not even ahead.”

Santiago stretches his arm out on the back of your chair as the other guys make a quick exit. His fingertips brush lightly against your arm.

“So,” he says, “were you just giving Will and Benny a hard time or are we really doing this?”

“I don’t know. Are you all talk? A flirting for sport kind of guy?”

You’d gotten that impression of Santi, from some of the stories you’d heard. But in person, he doesn’t strike you as shallow or fake. You always trust your gut about people. And your gut says to trust Santiago.

“I’m not flirting. I’m not hunting,” he says. “I’m just, talking to the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

You can’t breathe for a few seconds. Those words, smooth and warm, his serious eyes and the corner of his mouth still raised in half a grin.

Santiago’s hand brushes your hairline at the back of your neck, then settles onto your skin, ever so slightly massaging your muscles.

“Will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night? Away from these ‘chucklefucks,’ as you so lovingly said.” His fingers wind their way down, into the collar of your shirt, where your shoulder and neck meet.

“Well, to be clear, I was also including you in that group. But, yes, I’d love to go out with you.”

Santiago looks visibly relieved. Something about his confidence, how it’s both real and also a complete front, makes you want to hold onto him. Keep him.

His fingers pull back. He brushes his knuckles over your chin. Before you can do the same, feel the scrape of his five o’clock shadow on your fingers, Frankie comes bounding back into the dining room.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he rubs his hands together nervously, “do you have any ketchup?”

Your happy mood disappears. You glare at Frankie. “You tell Benny that if he puts ketchup on my pot roast, I’m never cooking for him again. Also, don’t let him make you do his dirty work, Frankie. You’re a grown man.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Frankie says with a grim smile. “What about the potatoes, though? For me. Not for Benny.”

“Fine. Refrigerator, top shelf,” you roll your eyes. “I always thought Will would’ve kept you guys in line.”

Santiago leans back in his chair. He looks at home already. “Will doesn’t like to interfere. Man of few words. Benny got all the talking in that family, not that I need to tell you that.”

It’s a little bit amazing to you, that he can sit here in your house like he’s been here a million times before, talking with you like you’re already together, about men you both know, but under very different circumstances.

His dark eyes sparkle at you, looking you over. “I used to think you were pretty, in the pictures Will or Ben would show us. You looked happy. It was nice to see someone having a normal life while we were over there, not being normal. It was good you sent that stuff, pictures and food and whatever.”

“Oh yeah? And who was sending you photos, and whatever?” You ask him.

“Mostly the Playboy Corporation,” Santiago grins. “I’m kidding. No one, actually. My family sometimes. No one like you.”

He’s so sweet you can’t believe this is the same guy you’d heard Will and Benny talk about for years. The smooth talker. The face man. Pope, who probably wouldn’t ever settle down.

No, this is a man who’s wanted to settle down for years. He just wouldn’t settle for less than exactly what he wanted. Which, it seems like, is you.

“Hey.” You give in to your number one urge and run your fingers through his black and silver curls. “How about I ask the guys to clean this up, and you and I go out for dessert? There’s a really good ice cream place downtown.”

Santiago’s face lights up like the fourth of July. “Only if we can get it to-go. We can sit in my truck and neck afterward.”

“Deal. We can ask Frankie to babysit the other two,” you laugh.

His hand finds yours, his fingers linking through and raising your hand to kiss your palm.

“Think we can still do this in ten years?” He asks.

“Do what?” You ask, confused.

“Go out for dessert, just the 2 of us, and leave the kids at home with Frankie.”

“Wow, you really go all in, don’t you, Garcia?” You smile.

“For you, yeah,” Santiago says. “I’ve worked my ass off, for what feels like every day of my life. This is the one thing that’s ever felt easy. Love at first sight.”

Your heart flutters, then drops right in front of him. You can’t help it. He’s right. Like he knows you feel it too, he leans in, like he can’t wait for this first kiss.

His soft lips press against yours.

And bang! There’s a huge crash on the table as mashed potatoes fly everywhere. Onto your clothes. In Santiago’s hair.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Will shouts from the kitchen.

A football sits squarely in the dish of potatoes.

“We’re not bringing them home any ice cream,” Santiago says, but he’s all smiles anyway, pulling you in to finish what’s still a perfect first kiss.

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Obsessed with Soap’s stupid fucking nape and the fuzzy hair there. He probably gets yanked around by it all the time. It’s probably Ghost’s favourite place to slap. Probably the yummiest place to b..bite. He should cover it up, the whore. Wear exclusively turtlenecks from now on, otherwise i won’t be liable for mauling him

Screaming without the S

Private Dances 7

Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist

Summary: Blue comes to find you when he's in a bad mood.

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Smacking (in the face - Blue receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, oral sex (f!receiving) Blue crying, reader says Blue's crying turns them on, small argument - but like it's a scene, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), not beta read, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 3100

Blue’s in a foul mood. Worse than foul. 

The tension in the air is heavy, spiked with electricity like the moment before a lightning strike. 

You’re helping Penny and Swan with the A Quarter stock check when you hear it: Blue’s yell. It’s harsh and sharp, cutting through the air like shattered glass despite how low the sound is. Anger radiates through the walls, his tone clear and precise even though the words and their meaning are muffled and lost. 

Penny and Swan jump at the first shout, poor Swan nearly dropping the items in her hands. Her fingers shake as he tries to compose herself. She’s fairly new and has never been under Blue’s direct warpath, but she’s heard enough stories to develop a healthy apprehension. 

Penny gives you a nervous glance, “That sounds bad.” 

You nod. 

“You…” Penny swallows, her eyes downcast. 

You know what she wants to ask. Can sense it. It’s almost like her words are echoing in your head, running along your synapses. It’s the same thing nearly everyone wants to ask, though no one has dared to yet. 

“Blue…” Penny tries again, breathing in as she searches for the right words. 

“You’re one of his favourites, right?” Swan blurts out. It’s funny almost, the bluntness of her words. But her eyes are wide and honest, and there’s a shine of fear in them that robs you of all humour. 

Penny tuts before you can answer, swatting Swan on her forearm. “You don’t just say that.” 

But why? You want to ask. Why is there this unspokenness to some things? No one had ever told you not to question, but it was ingrained anyway. 

“It’s alright.” You say and give them both a small smile. “It’s fine.” 

Swan rubs her arm and Penny looks relieved. 

“I know some of the… others,” Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, “aren’t too… they don’t like being asked.” 

But that wasn’t quite right; some of them didn’t mind either, some of them freely gave information when it wasn’t too much to talk about. Crystal was the only one where asking a question was like a flip of a coin. You never knew if you were going to get an answer, a vicious comment, or your eyes clawed out. 

Some twisted hierarchy. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You repeat. 

“What’s he like?” Swan asks, a morbid curiosity in her voice. 

All you can think about is the scars on his skin, how soft his eyes look when you press against his windpipe, the quiet, wanton moans that pass his lips when you squeeze. 

You shrug, trying to find substantial words. “He’s…”

“A fucking monster.” Penny shakes her head at Swan. “Why are you asking Lion stuff like that? You know what he’s like.”

Swan frowns, “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Penny folds her arms. “It’s-”

The door flies open, smacking into the wall with a crack. 

Penny jumps while Swan lets out a little cry of surprise. 

You turn instinctively, your mind racing.

Blue storms into the room, a deep scowl etched into his face like a scar. His gaze first falls on Swan and she takes a sharp, shaky step backwards her eyes downcast. 

Without thinking, you take a step forward and Blue turns at the sound. His glare softens when he sees you, but barely. He doesn’t steak, just grabs your bicep and pulls you from the room. You stumble, his firm grip keeping you upright as he practically marches you to his office. 

The door is barely open before he drags you inside and spins you around to face him. 

You stay quiet, but fix him with a hard stare. 

He breathes heavily, his shoulders relaxing. He’s the one that blinks first, his eyelashes fluttering and then looking down as his grip on your arm relaxes. 

“What?” You ask simply, your voice firm but quiet. 

He shakes his head. 

You place your hand on his cheek and tilt his head upwards. “Blue?” 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his blinking heavily. “I… I should have…” 

You let him stumble over his words. 

“I… that was impolite… of me.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shakes his head again, but this time the action is not dismissive. You can see the cogs wiring in his mind as he tries to regulate his emotions. 

Softly, you rub your thumb against his cheek and he leans into the soothing motion. His breathing slows, his jaw loosens as he closes his eyes.

“The conversation with Gerald,” one of Blue’s lawyers, “about regulations… building permits.” 

Ah. This was to do with Blue’s planned expansion of the club.

“It didn’t,” he breathes deeply as he leans further into your touch. “I became… upset. I wanted…” He pauses again, opening his eyes to stare intently at you. “I needed to see you.” 

“There are better ways of getting my attention, aren’t there?” 

His nose wrinkles in displeasure. “Why were you even out there anyway?”

You go to drop your hand from his face but he grabs your wrist, squeezing slightly as he keeps you firmly against him. 

Rage sparks under your skin. “You want me to stay locked up in your rooms all day and night?” You hiss.

Your conversation with him the night before echoed in your ears. ‘You don’t have to do anything Lion, just stay here.’ Even though he hadn’t intended it to sound like a prison sentence, the idea still chilled you. Isolated from everyone but him. What happened if he just woke up one day and decided to throw you away? What happened when he did?

“Is that such a curse?” He growls, his eyes dark. 

Something in you snaps, the smallest thread of self-control splinters in your temple. You twist your hand, moving so that your fingers dig into one cheek, while your thumb presses against the other. You squeeze, tilting his head back. Feeling the indent of his teeth under your fingertips. 

Blue lets out a little gasp of surprise, his head falling back under the force of your grip. 

“Lion,” he lets out, broken and weak. 

You step closer. “What kind of fucking behaviour is this?” You whisper, letting your anger burn along your words. “I know we spoke about your reputation.” You sneer. “How it’s best for you to be perceived by others. But don’t you dare take that tone with me-”

“I’m sorry!” He sobs, his voice thick, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

You shake him slightly, a jolt that has him whimpering. 

“Never interrupt me.” 

His shoulders shake as he tries to fight down the wave of sobs that threaten to wreck his very core. 

You watch him with hard eyes. 

“Lion?” He whines. “Please, I’m so sorry-”

“I thought we were past this.” 

He breathes in shakily, tears spilling out and over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean, I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have been rude to you, I shouldn’t-” He bursts into full-blown tears, practical hysterics. Something that you haven’t seen from him before. 

You loosen your grip, wrapping your arms around him quickly and pulling him closer. “Shhh,” you rub his back, cradling his head as you soothe him. “Shhh, it’s alright.” 

“I didn’t,” he hiccups, trying to get air into his lungs and failing, “I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to upset you. Disappoint you, I, I, I-”

You kiss his temple, gently leading him to the sofa, which is easier said than done while still holding him and his face pressed into your neck. 

As you sit down you take his cheeks in your hands, stroking his skin with your thumbs and smearing his tears. You kiss his nose and he smiles weakly while still crying. 

“Usually when I grab your face like that you get a boner.” You give him a soft look. 

He laughs once and nods, trying to calm himself down. 

“And we end up with your face between my thighs.” You keep your voice gentle and he swallows, nodding again. “Blue…”

He looks up at you, his eyes red. “I’m so sorry, Lion.”

You shake your head, about to tell him not to be when he puts his hands on your wrists. The touch is light this time as he lightly strokes your skin. “I was… I thought that was going to happen.” He says quietly. “I intended it to… To be our usual game.” He looks up at you a little nervously when he says ‘game’ and relaxes when you give him a warm smile. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You soothe. 

“I just… suddenly it felt…” He absentmindedly touches under his left collarbone, rubbing the thick, deep scar that you knew resided there. 

“It’s alright.” 

He nods. “Thank you.” 

Still cradling his cheeks, you kiss his temple, and then under his eyes, tasting the salt of his shed tears. 

He nuzzles into you, kissing your neck and chest over your clothes. You let him, kissing the top of his head and stroking his back. 

He moves lower slowly, pressing his lips to your thigh. 

“Blue,” you say softly, coaxing his face up so you can see him fully. “You don’t have to.” You don’t want him to think he has to perform, has to be constantly… oh. 

He gazes at you with heavily lidded eyes, his erection straining against his trousers. So much so you were sure he was going to pop a button. 

Lightly you trace along the edge of it with your fingernail and he groans, his eyelashes fluttering and still wet with tears as he smiles. 

“I’d like you too…” He swallows, already starting to feel like he’s floating. “I’d like you to ride me and…” he bites his lip, shivering. “I’d like you to smack me.” 

“Smack you?” You say, thinking back to when you had him across your lap. 

“Hmm,” he sighs dreamily, “here.” He touches his cheek. 

You’re not sure if this is such a good idea, especially after his sudden tears. “Blue-”

“Please Lion,” he bats his eyes and bites his lip. “Just sit on me, you don’t even have to move. Just keep,” he inches closer, almost swaying, like a predator about to pounce, “hitting me and let me come and I’ll clean up all my mess afterwards.” He rubs his nose against yours, slipping his tongue past your lips and kissing you desperately, drinking down your moan like a glutton. 

You wish it wasn’t so easy for him to coax you out of your clothes, for him to strip you bare while you were so distracted with his kiss. But there was a reason Blue was so used to getting his own way: he was undeniably persuasive. 

He has his suit jacket off, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone and his tie loosened when he pulls you into his lap. He keeps kissing you, keeps running his hands up and down your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

Blue groans into your mouth as he squeezes the outside of your thighs before he hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He pulls his aching cock out in a hurry, almost rough with himself, a vast difference to how slowly and reverently he had undressed you. 

He squeezes the thick base with one hand, pulling his lips away from yours long enough to groan, “Hmm, Lion, please, can you- ah!” His gasp is sweet and pools heat in your belly as you take him in hand and guide him between your folds. 

He lets you take control immediately, gasping as you glide his leaking tip through the wetness between your legs before you press him to your clit. 

He moans deeply, his eyes blown wide. “Lion,” He swallows, his throat bobbing, “God, you’re so wet, does seeing me cry turn you on?” There’s the smallest grin on his lips, and even though you know it is just a tease, you can’t help yourself. 

You squeeze the base of his cock a little hard and his eyes roll back. He lets out a harsh groan as he squirms. You know, for most, the action would be painful. 

“God Lion, please, you’ll make me come before I’m even inside.” He whimpers, his voice strained. He presses his head back against the sofa, trying to gain some control over himself, and grabs hold of your hips, squeezing his fingers into your sides. 

You chuckle and slowly press his fat tip to your entrance. There’s the smallest resistance before he breaches.

Blue swears, his eyes rolling back. His neck taut and exposed to you as he leans back. 

You spread your knees a little wider as you ease yourself down onto him. “It does, by the way.” 

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with hazy eyes, already drunk on the feel of you. 

“Seeing you cry turns me on.” 

“Fuck.” He tenses, the base of his cock pulsing. It takes all his will in the world to not come there and then.

You smile, stroking his hair as you sink further down. “That desperate for me?” 

He nods rapidly. “Yes, Lion, yes, so desperate.” He moans loudly as your thighs meet his, finally swallowing him to the hilt. “Thank you, thank you.” He whispers, blinking hard.

“Are you sure you want me to hit you here?” You trace a heart over his left cheek with the tip of your finger and he nods. 

“Please.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

“I will, I promise.” He looks up at you, staring like you were the one who placed the stars into the sky. “I trust you, Lion.” 

You kiss him softly before you sit up fully. Blue hisses at the change of angle, his cock twitching as it rubbed against your walls. 

“Ready?” 

He manages to nod once before your palm collides with his cheek. The sound is sharp. It echoes like a bell ringing loudly in your ears. Blue’s face snaps to the side at impact, your hand tingles with the force. 

But his deep gasp and moan quickly alleviates any worry you had. 

He turns back to face you, his cheek already growing red. “Again.” 

You smack him. Harder this time. 

He turns quickly. “Again.”

Smack.

“Again.”

Smack.

“Agai-”

Smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Blue wimpers, his body singing as the pain mixes dizzyingly in his veins. He can taste iron in his mouth. But it doesn’t stop him from turning back to face you.

Smack.

He gasps, groaning as his hips buck once, his back arching. Pleasure rushes over him, pulling him deliciously high before dragging him down, down, down into dark, sweet depths. He spurts inside you, warm and copious, filling you to the brim and trickling down his balls. 

He squeezes you as he comes, shuddering and shivering until he blinks heavily. 

You’re holding him close and tight, and he’s never been safer than this moment. Never been more protected than in your arms. 

He moves slowly and you loosen your grip so he can look up at you, dazed and happy. 

He doesn’t like how your eyes widen when you look at him. 

“Blue,” you swallow. There’s red in his teeth. You go to touch his lip and stop yourself. 

“Oh,” he runs his tongue over his incisors, and chuckles. “Just a small cut.” He pokes out his bottom lip to show you, he’s right. It is a small thing. “I think that was from the third hit.” 

“Blue-”

“It was so good, Lion. Please,” he strokes your cheek. “Don’t worry. I would have stopped you if it wasn’t, I promised didn’t I?” 

You nod, still a little uncertain. Your worry distracts you momentarily, and Blue leans up quickly to kiss you. He licks into your mouth, groaning as his blood hits your tongue. 

You take a sharp intake of breath, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back harshly, lightly nipping at his lip and squeezing his shoulders when he moans. 

Gently, he coaxes you around so that he can lay you back against the sofa, with the armrest behind your head. 

He hisses as he pulls out, part of him already lamenting being away from you, but the sight of his spend dripping out of you makes him groan. 

“Oh, yes Lion,” he presses at your thighs, spreading you wider. “A feast.” 

You gasp as he dives to your core, dragging his warm tongue slowly through your folds in one long lick. He watches you intently as he runs over your clit, ending with a flick before he starts the whole process over again.

You jump, squirm, thrusting closer to his mouth and groaning when he uses one hand to press against your soft stomach, keeping you in place as he continues his languid torture. 

He refuses to go faster, to even sink his tongue in deeper, no matter how much you beg and pull at his hair. Always keeping up that same firm pressure and drawn out pace that is starting to make you lose your grip on reality. 

“Blue,” you plead, wriggle, your clit throbbing as he makes another slow trek through your pussy before his tongue can soothe the ache in your bundle of nerves. 

But even as he reaches that part you need his touch so desperately, it isn’t nearly long enough. You buck, trying to get just a little tiny bit more of that pressure, but it’s fruitless. 

“Blue,” you moan again, your tights shaking. Your stomach is pulled so tight you think you might explode, that heavy throb is painful. Maddening. 

He starts up again, groaning as he licks and, “Fuck,” you shiver, shake as he just drags over your clit, even slower than before, pushing firmer and, and-

You scream, your muscles tensing and spasming as pleasure explodes along your nerves, runs along your veins and overtakes your very being. 

You shiver in his arms as he swirls his tongue over your bundle of nerves again and again, watching you with lust blown eyes as he prolongs your pleasure for as long as he can. 

You sob, shaking with aftershocks as, finally, you start to recover. 

Blue places a light kiss to your core, then belly, before he moves up and settles back between your legs. He’s smiling as he strokes your cheek, looking the most content you’ve ever seen him. 

Lightly you trace his moustache, it’s soaking with his spit and your come. 

Sweat cools on your skin, and you notice the state of his shirt. “You’re going to need to change.” You tease and he laughs. 

Thank you for reading!

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LOVERS WARMTH

bård “ faust ” eithun x reader

- general headcanons for cuddling / sleeping with bård!

very random and quite short little headcanons about cuddling with bård! might make a similar work for pelle too and here is the list of cuddle positions i used just in case some of you do not know the ones that i mention in this work ^_^

- view my metal masterlists here and here

reading music recommendations: stop the stars by tiny deaths - ecstasy by crooked still

- bård found out many different and new things about himself after getting with you, his very first serious partner at all, you helped him realise so much about himself and never failed to help him with the things going on inside of his head too

✩ but one thing that bård really came to realise after becoming your boyfriend and doing different kinds of couple things together? well, he realised that he really loves cuddling… like, a whole lot…

- the kind of strange thing is that cuddling never seemed all that appealing to bård before you came along and swept him off his feet! whenever he saw a destined to be slaughtered couple cuddling up in an isolated woodland cabin in one of his horror movies, he just never got the appeal

✩ bård thought that cuddling seemed… useless and not very enjoyable at all! it seemed too overbearing and just too soft for him, he hated the idea of being so close to someone like that because what about the body heat? what about sweat? what about the blankets getting tangled in between bodies? it all just seemed so unappealing to him, or at least that is what he made himself believe anyways…

- truth be told, bård was very likely just kind of jealous in a way! every time he saw a couple cuddling like that, he felt his own heart yearn for someone to love him like that and for someone to love like that, he yearned to feel the warmth of a lovers arms around him during the colder nights in his lonely apartment but he never thought anyone would like to do that with him which is why he decided to make himself dislike the thought of cuddling so much, it is why he made his brain think about how terrible it would actually be to cuddle someone

✩ but alas, true feelings cannot stay buried underneath lies for the rest of time and when bård got with you? his once hidden love for the idea of being so close to someone was surprisingly quick to reveal itself to you

- well, i say it was surprising but really? it is not quite that! at least, it should not have been too surprising because of how comfortable you make bård feel, being in your presence? it makes him feel like he can be his true self no matter what, even more so when you do not treat him any differently after he tells you about some of the things happening in his mind… bård is so new to relationships and in a way, this makes him eager! you make him feel so safe and at home, all of the things he keeps hidden from everything else come out to be on show around you with little to no fear of judgement at all…

✩ bård kind of clings onto you a whole lot, you are his standing rock in the depths of an unforgiving ocean and you are his home! it is definitely kind of bad but after getting with you? a lot of his mental health and his happiness relies on you, you are his true happiness and you are what drives him to be better in life

- his absolute favourite cuddling positions with you would be simple spooning and the sweetheart

✩ so long as the two of you are as close as you can be together? he loves it more than anything else in the world, being so close to you is all he ever wants and feeling you held in his arms is all he ever craves because without you? the space of his bed feels freezing cold and his arms just feel so empty

- when he once made himself think that being so close to someone else would feel horrible and overbearing? he now accepts the truth that he yearned to feel it for himself and he knows now that in actuality? he loves being the closest he can be to you as the two of you cuddle up together in your shared bed! he loves being able to press lingering yet innocent kisses to your head and the side of your neck whilst holding you in his arms

✩ when sleeping together in the spooning cuddle position, bårds arms are always tight around your body but never tight enough to hurt you or feel restricting to you at all! his arms just hold you secure and safe with your back pressed against his chest and some stray strands of his long brown hair tickling the side of your face and the nape of your neck due to his head being settled down against your own

- though be warned that often times, falling asleep in the spooning cuddle position with bård will almost always end up in some slow morning sex when the two of you awake and both of you take note of his hard morning wood as it presses up against your butt… and he always just thinks that you look so gorgeous when you first wake up…

✩ when sleeping together in the sweetheart cuddle position, bårds arms are less tight around you as one of his arms just lays draped over your shoulders as your legs are tangled together beneath the thick blankets whilst your head is resting atop his warm chest and his face is nestled in your hair because no matter your hair length nor your hair type, bård just loves laying his face against it and breathing in the scent of whatever hair products linger

- if you ever chuckle and ask him just what he is doing due to feeling and hearing him sniff your hair as your head lays upon his chest? you will be able to hear his heartbeat quicken just beneath your ear and you will feel his breathing hitch in his throat as his eyes shoot open and stare at the bedroom wall in the darkness of the night before he speaks up in a quiet mumble

“ nothing… i was just… smelling your hair, it… smells very nice, you know? sorry ” ( bård says it all so fast and so low that you barely even hear what he says but nevertheless you just look up at him with a gentle smile before leaning your head up towards his to press a deep kiss against his lips whilst stroking his long leg with your foot beneath the blankets, mumbling into his mouth about how you think it is sweet and he has nothing to be sorry for, smiling against his pouted lips when you feel his once tense state loosen under your reassurance and show of affection )

✩ wether you are a guy or a girl or even just something in between, when you and bård are both a little bit intoxicated and have just stumbled home to your shared apartment before damn near ripping your now very uncomfortable clothes off and climbing into bed wearing nothing but underwear? drunk bård is a little bit more confident bård and his hands are bound to go wandering just a little bit when you press your almost naked body up against his own for warmth and love

- his calloused hands will drift down to your butt as he squeezes the available fat there before lowering his palm and doing the very same to your thighs or he will bring just one hand to grope and fondle one of your nude breasts as the other ventures downwards towards your butt to show some special attention there too, he always has such a shy yet confident and sly little smile on his drunken face when you look up at him with an intoxicated giggle from his touchy affection that only causes his own somehow slurred laughter to bubble up in his chest

✩ and whilst you and bård do often have some fun drunk sex from time to time? most of the time, these wandering hands and soft squeezes will not lead to anything super nsfw at all because most of the time, drunk bård is sleepy bård and seeing his soft face be so at peace in sleep as he drools upon your naked chest whilst his long hair is strewn across his cheek and his hand is still resting upon your butt? well, it just never fails to make you fall into your own peaceful sleep right after he passes out on your chest

- whilst it is definitely not his favourite cuddling position at all, sometimes when the two of you get back home to your shared apartment after an emperor rehearsal that you attended with him or even after a casual day spent with some friends at helvete, the two of you will walk through the front door hand in hand before just collapsing down together on the soft couch that sits in the small living room before getting into a comfortable take a lap position with his arms wrapping around your body whilst you burrow your head against his chest and lay your legs across his lap as one of his hand comes down to stroke the side of your leg

✩ the take a lap cuddling position might not be a huge favourite for bård because often times when the two of you fall asleep on the couch in the position? both of you often wake up with a bit of an ache in your necks and your backs due to the slight slouching which he is never a big fan of but he will never deny how much he likes it in the moment, so long as the two of you make sure to not fall asleep in the position

- take a lap is often times the cuddling position that the two of you always end up being in when resting in his little makeshift bed in helvete! he really likes the fact that it lets him watch his horror movie on the small tv whilst having you comfortable in his arms at the same time whilst one of his arms is wrapped around your back as his hand strokes along your spine in a soft motion and the other is hanging over your legs with a cold can of coca cola held in his hand, the two of you are far less likely to ever fall asleep in this position when in helvete due to the blaring black metal music in your ears and customers coming in and out of the store which means he gets to enjoy the position with you without the ache in his back and neck coming just after

✩ if anyone, like øystein, ever peeks over at the two of you cuddling like this in his little resting area in helvete and jokingly coos over the two of you for being so cute? bård will blush and is very thankful that his long hair is covering the sides of his face from their view but he has little to no problem shaking his head and just lifting his arm up from your its position over your legs so that he can flip them the bird whilst you chuckle and nestle further against him before his his head comes down to rest his cheek atop your head

- now, i have been talking a lot about bård cuddling you but you know… sometimes he likes to be cuddled too, not that you do not always cuddle back into him when he cuddles you but sometimes he wants to be the one being held, sometimes he wants to be the little spoon even if he will never say those words out loud and will always divert from saying those two words when he asks you to big spoon him instead of the other way around…

“ can you… cuddle me this time? like i do you? just… hold me, the same way i do, please ” ( bård might be able to admit that he wants to be cuddled by you but calling himself the little spoon? saying that he wants to be the little spoon? it will never come out of his mouth and he will find a way around using those two words because for some reason, they just make him feel much more embarrassed to ask and even then, he will always kind of avert his eyes when asking you to cuddle him as if fearing judgement or refusal )

✩ the feelings that rush through bård when you cuddle him and hold him safe in your arms are all so beyond unfamiliar and new to him, they are so unfamiliar and new but in the best way possible! being held in your arms fill him with a feeling of content and warmth that he begins to crave more and more as time goes on

- when being the little spoon for a change, bård loves feeling your arms wrap around his frame from behind as your legs tangle together beneath the blankets, he always feels his own breathing become so much more relaxed and he feels his mind turning into a tired mush the second you press a soft kiss to the side of his head and use your fingers to slip underneath the cotton of his plain black shirt that he wears to bed just to draw gentle shapes on the pale skin his waist, he absolutely loves that he gets to fall asleep to the gentle and rhythmic sound of your heartbeat when being the little spoon in your arms too, hearing your heart beat next to his ear and knowing that it is full of love for him just as his is for you makes his stomach flutter

✩ bård loves it when you talk him to sleep too! he is never bored by what you are talking about or anything even remotely like that but the sound of your quiet and tired voice speaking so close and so low right in his ear as his back is pressed against your chest never fails to make him fall into the welcoming arms of deep sleep! your voice is just so quiet and soft and his brain connects the sound of your voice to warmth and happiness which is why it often lulls him to sleep in your arms

- but when bård wakes up in the morning after falling asleep in the little spoon cuddling position with you holding him tight from behind? he almost always finds himself to have turned around in your arms sometime in his sleep during the night as his head now rests against your chest and your fingers now rest in the long brown strands of his messy bed hair!

✩ and speaking of his hair, stroking and brushing through his long hair whilst cuddling him in the little spoon position is sure to make him pass out in your arms within mere seconds

- your hands petting his head and your soft fingers running through his hair before massaging and gently scratching his scalp almost makes him purr like a kitten, it feels so good for him and knocks him out so well, scratching and massaging at his scalp is kind of like finding and pressing his off button

✩ wether he is the little spoon or the big spoon, bård loves to hold your hand in his own as he falls asleep and even during sleep too

- just before he falls into a deep sleep with you, one of his hands will drift away from wherever they once were to take ahold of yours as tangles your fingers together and connects your warm palms, his fingers running along your knuckles before giving three last gentle squeezes to your hand to symbolise a silent “ i love you ” before the two of you both fall into a shared slumber

✩ during cold norwegian winters? the two of you act as each others thermal heaters in bed, you cuddle up even more than ever before underneath every single blanket that you could find in your shared apartment and his arms never leave their place from being wrapped around you to supply you with body heat

- bård wonders how he ever even survived the winters before you! because when he steps out of bed from his spot beside you in the morning? he immediately just wants to dive back under the thick blankets and curl himself into you and feel your warmth, when he goes to rehearse with emperor whilst you stay home due to the immense cold? all he ever wants to do is get back home and climb into bed with you! he was never too bothered by winter and the cold that always came with it before you but your warmth is like nothing he has ever felt before and after experiencing it? he feels that he can never live without it again, winter feels so much worse than ever before and all he ever wants is to hold your warm body against his own as the two of you sleep through the winter like two bears hibernating through it all! when you leave the bed in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or grab a drink of water? bård always wakes up to the new lack of heat beside him and waits for you to return to bed with an almost grumpy expression on his tired face, like an upset cat missing his warm human

✩ bård tends to snore a whole lot when he sleeps

- he never once snored before he started dating you and cuddling with you in his sleep! but cuddling you and sleeping with you beside him in your shared bed and in his pale arms? it always makes him fall into such a deeper and a much more peaceful sleep than he ever has before, which is where the newfound snoring in his sleep comes from…

✩ never did he know the definition of a good nights rest before you entered his life and changed it for the better! his sleeps before getting with you were always in a very broken schedule and he never felt well rested when he awoke much earlier than he should have, his bedsheets were always a mess when he awoke due to how much tossing and turning he would do in his restless nights

- but when you came into his life and the two of you began dating? well, now he might just understand why some people say that sleep is the best part of life! sleeping with you is so different to sleeping alone, just your mere presence beside him beneath the warm covers makes him feel more at ease and being able to wrap his arm around your waist from behind whilst his button nose gets to rest in your hair as the lingering scent of your shampoo fills his senses always makes him feel so secure

✩ but do not worry at all! his frequent snoring? it is not overly loud nor is it ever annoying in the slightest, it is so strange but his snores are somehow so cute and quiet…

- if anything, waking up in the morning to the feeling of his hot breath fanning against the skin on the back of your neck as gentle snores leave his mouth only ever makes you smile and cuddle further back into him whilst his face buries itself deeper into the crook of you neck and his arm tightens around your waist

✩ it is probably best that you do not mention his snoring to him because of his lingering insecurities

- but if you do mention his snoring in a very soft and beyond gentle way to him? he will not get too insecure about it due to how sweet you were when bringing it up to him but he will probably be very embarrassed and shy about it, the blush that covers his face when you tell him how cute his snoring is? it is almost the same pigment as a bright red rose as he shakes his head with a tiny little smile on his heated face and his long brown hair coming to drape over his cheeks in an attempt to hide the obvious blush

✩ aside from snoring, i can definitely see bård mumbling in his sleep sometimes too

- it is nowhere near as common as his snoring but sometimes, you have woken up in the spooning potion to the sound of him mumbling ever so quietly right beside your ear and tilted your head back to look at him with a questioning look in your tired and heavy lidded eyes before you realise that he is sleep talking…

✩ his sleep talking is almost always just incoherent mumbles as his norwegian accent is even thicker than usual and sometimes he even sleep talks in his native tongue too! but there has been a couple times where you have understood a few little things that he said and they never ever fail to make your heart swell up with love inside of your chest as you listen to him before falling back into your own sleep

- the few sentences you have ever made out from his sleep talking have been little things like “ love you so much… ” “ wanna marry you soon ” “ so beautiful ” and “ dont deserve you… ”

✩ there was once when you heard him mumble out a quiet “ i do… forever… ” and you had to resist waking him from his sleep to pepper him in loving kisses as you realised he must have been dreaming about marrying you, he must have been seeing everything happening at the alter so clear in his land of sleep…

- sometimes, when he awakes in the morning, as the two of you lay there still held in each others arms as the golden morning sun begins to peak through his black curtains? you will ask him what he dreamt about, if anything at all, and he will develop such a deep red blush on his pale face before his arms pulls you against him tighter as he leans down to bury his blushing face into your hair whilst his mind drifts back and remembers the images that were shown to him in his dream, images of the two of you getting married in what seemed like a not so far away future, images of the two of you buying a house together, images of the two of you making love on the couch of your new house in front of a crackling fire

✩ he can never stop himself from telling you a little about his dreams, not when your fingers are drawing soft and comforting patterns on the pale skin of his naked chest and not when you tilt your head up to press a loving kiss against his heated cheek that he attempted to cover with some of the long brown strands of his hair! so he will tell you about his dreams, he will describe what you were wearing and how beautiful you looked, he will describe what the weather was like and how all he seemed to be able to do was gaze at you during the whole dream, he will tell you it all with a dreamy tone in his voice whilst his arms hold onto you…

- his face is always so covered in pure bliss as he tells you about his dreams and if you looked close enough at his chocolate brown eyes? you would be able to the yearning and want in his eyes, you would be able to see that he sees those perfect dreams with you as his true future with you and he awaits it with such eagerness in his heart <3

The tattoos were the cherry on TOPP😭

watching Rise of the Gaurdians made me realize my younger self had a type all along when I had a crush on this guy

the naughty and nice tattoos 😍 😋 😏 😜