a/n. FINALLY finished season 3 !! i swear i wasn’t ignoring your guys’ request i felt obligated to finish the show before i write anything... anyways don’t forget to reblog ! ty
Travis couldn’t stop staring at you.
He wasn’t used to the whole dating thing, but he knew boyfriends gave their partners their clothes. It was an unwritten rule, but he’s not sure why you like it so much. Maybe it’s the pheromones clinging to fabric or some bullshit. It’s not like he paid much attention during bio.
Travis knows he likes it when you wear his clothes because you look captivating in the red flannel. It was oversized on you, so you bunched the fabric around your elbows to avoid obstructing your hands. A few buttons were undone, exposing your t-shirt underneath.
The sight of you sent him reeling internally, and it wasn’t even because you looked cute in his clothes— it was because you were wearing his clothes, further solidifying your relationship. You and him were dating for real, not some psychosis-induced relationship he made up to keep his mind safe.
You disengage in conversation with Mari and Van, immediately turning around to look for Travis. His heart stutters in his chest when you make eye contact. He straightens his posture instead of leaning against a tree trunk. It was an attempt to act aloof, as if he wasn’t staring at you the entire time, silently admiring you as you laughed at each joke Van had said.
“Hey,” Travis greets you as you approach him. Shamelessly, you trespass into his personal space. It was another relationship thing he wasn’t familiar with, but he loved it — every time you held his hand, played with his hair or kissed him, especially in front of everyone else. It made him feel normal, and he was glad he could experience something normal amidst the fucked up circumstances.
“Hi,” you respond with a smile on your lips. His eyes flicker to your body, appreciating the loose-fitting fabric as it clings to your form, much like how you cling to him. Maybe you wore his clothes because you couldn’t stand being away from him. Travis would hear guys bitch and moan about how their girls’ would be too clingy, but Travis thought they were dramatic.
“You look nice in my clothes,” he comments, and your grin widens. Your fingers fidget aimlessly with the lower buttons of the shirt.
“Just nice?” you questioned, tilting your head to the side, acting confused. One of Travis’ hands moves to grip your hips, and his fingers trail under his flannel and your t-shirt to rest on your bare skin. His hands were warm. He was usually warm, well, that’s what you say. Travis took it as a compliment because you always use it as an excuse to hold him close at night, slipping your cold hands under his shirt to warm them up.
“Really nice,” he murmured, pulling you closer to him. You place your hands on his shoulder, steadying yourself. You let out a breath, surprised at Travis’ sudden brazen behaviour. Travis wasn’t the most openly affectionate. He had his moments, but preferred when you were alone and away from prying eyes. However, you in his clothes unlocked something he wasn’t aware he kept hidden.
You peer over his shoulder, noticing the others were nearby. Travis’ brow furrowed in confusion, turning his head to glance at what you’re staring at. He’d much prefer if all your attention were on him. He questions, “What’re you looking at?”
You scoff, but there’s no malice since you’re still smiling. “You know they’re gonna essentially bully me, right?”
“They tease you anyway. Can’t I just appreciate you?” Travis replies. His hand trails further up your body under the layers of clothes, and you try to muffle a giggle at the ticklish sensation of his fingers teasing your bare skin.
“Asshole,” you huff, but you don’t do anything to stop him. He smiles, something he finds himself doing more often. Even if you’re currently both equivalent to those weird couples in the hallway at school who were excessive with their public display of affection at 8 in the morning, he enjoys it because there were no social norms in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Your hands gently hold his face as you press your lips to his in a quick, simple kiss, mumbling quietly, “I love your smile.”
my inbox is open for travis thirsts !! also shout to me for sucking ass in all fours and probably any card game to touch earth
The only card game you knew how to play was Go Fish. It was a lot easier since the deck had no Queens, one less suit to worry about. Although Travis attempted to teach you other games, you got sick of losing to him even when he played the games in your favour.
After a terrible losing streak, you asked if he knew any magic tricks. He perked up at the question, but concealed his eagerness with a nonchalant, “Yeah.”
Travis’ deft fingers skillfully split the deck and shuffle the cards. The card you had picked lingered at the back of your mind as you watched Travis show off another unnecessary shuffling technique. You sigh dramatically when he reshuffles the cards for the millionth time. It’s to get the point across that he wasn’t playing any cheap tricks — you understood that, but did he really need to show off?
Your face displayed scepticism, but beneath the surface, you were intrigued. Especially when his fingers which usually rest on a trigger, effortlessly glided between the cards. The image of Travis in his room perfecting his card tricks made you smile a little. Despite his attempts to hide it, Travis was such a dork.
Finally, he stops. Travis holds the stack of cards in his left hand, flipping the card at the top of the deck to show you with his right. He questions, “Is this your card?”
“No,” you responded amused. You’d feel bad if he wasn’t showing off his fancy fingerwork. All those tricks just for it to fall flat.
“Are you sure?” he asks, confusion embedded in his words. Travis flipped back the offending card, a 7 of clubs, concealing it once more.
“I’m pretty sure I remember what my card looks like.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion as Travis leaned over the creaky old table, stretching out his arm. His hand reaches behind your ear, revealing another card out of thin air. The card was wedged between his index and middle finger, and your eyes widened in surprise.
“Did it look like this?” The singular red heart at the centre popped out against the off-white background. You grabbed the card, analysing the stiff paper for any sign of foul play. The Ace of Hearts, your card.
You looked at him bewildered. Travis didn’t anticipate your genuine shock. When he first showed the trick to his mom, even at eleven years old he could sense she wasn’t honest in her reaction.
“Wha— how?”
Travis leans back against his chair, a smug grin on his face. He shrugs, “A magician never reveals his secrets.”
Given that he has never been with a girl prior to the crash, I think once you have him in your hold he’s so whiny.
Away from prying eyes, you finally have him all to yourself. You’ve been perpetually edged, silently observing him as he does his share of chores around the cabin. Travis thinks he’s some tough guy, lugging around the rifle when Nat lets him, but the moment the both of you are away from the rest of the group, he’s melting in your palms.
The desperation is palpable between the both of you. When you press your lips to his, Travis can’t help the gasp that escapes him. That’s only the start. His nose bumps into yours as he tilts his head, attempting to taste more of you. One of his hands rests on your hip, and the other cups your cheek, guiding you closer to him.
The tree bark digs uncomfortably into his back, but he barely registers the sensation when your fingers entangle into his dark locks, tugging at the roots. Travis whimpers into your mouth, and you hungrily swallow the noise. If anything, it spurs you on. You wanted — needed to hear more of it, and it wasn’t difficult to have him a moaning mess.
With the heady combination of your hands needily grasping at him and your own moans, Travis lets slip noises ranging from quiet gasps to higher-pitched whines. Blood rushes to his cheeks, and his skin is impossibly warm when you hold his face. Fuck, Travis can hear himself, and it’s humiliating. He parts from your lips, tilting his head back to collide with the tree in a quiet ‘thud’.
You immediately attach yourself to his neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin. Travis swallows his nerves and his Adam’s apple bobs against your lips. It was dizzying for the both of you, but especially for Travis.
“Wait— wait,” Travis pants, catching breath. He didn’t want to risk being loud again, not only because he didn’t want to get caught, but because he was mortified by the sounds that could leave him. His hands run through his hair, revealing his eyes clouded with desire as he gazes at you. Travis licks his glossy lips coated with your shared saliva, attempting to collect himself.
“You okay, Trav?” you asked.
“I’m fine,” his voice cracks at the end of the statement, and he’s further humiliated. He knows you could care less, but he does. He’s overwhelmed by it all. You can’t blame him if he gets vocal about his need for you.
His honeyed eyes glazed over with unshed tears and his lips pressed together, jutting out in a pout in hopes of silencing his sobs. Jayce looks so beautiful when he’s a complete mess, especially for you. His long lashes fluttered shut, droplets of tears streaming down his brown skin, leaving paths you want to chase with your tongue.
Jayce is so dramatic.
He’s getting teary-eyed just because you’re playing with his cock. Pathetic, truly, but you wouldn’t like him any other way.
His hoarse voice wavers when he pleads a quiet, “Please.”
Jayce doesn’t know if he’s begging you to stop or to continue. His mind is scrambled, and there’s a blank look in his eyes when he comes again like he doesn’t understand a thing going on in his pretty little head. How ironic.
Maybe you’re being a little mean. Just a little. You’ve lost track of time, unsure of how long your hand has been moving up and down his dick, but you’re not going to stop anytime soon. Your fingers are coated with his sticky release, clinging to your digits like tendrils. It’s embarrassing. Jayce is all for appearance, but he looks broken in your grasp.
i miss you all too!! i’ve been busy w school. the last couple of weeks i was preoccupied with labs and then i was studying for mocks mostly but i might be a little more active since my last exam is next week friday. i’m not dead yet ! however i do feel like i am dead
includes! jayce’s love language + valentine’s day themes
tags. gn!reader, fluff, cheesy & cliché asf. this was supposed to be 3 love languages but jayce is filled w so much love i had to do all. obvi there will be some he’s more inclined to, but i think he does all to some capacity
a/n. i’m sorry this is late jayce nd i were trying for a baby (he’s the one getting pregnant btw) but for real school has been hell and i’ve been lacking motivation lately
GIFT GIVING
Jayce loves giving gifts, especially to those he loves. Whether it’s birthdays, anniversaries or holidays, he’s sure to get his loved ones a thoughtful present.
It’s no different on Valentine’s Day. Every year, he gets his mother and Caitlyn their favourite flowers with a handwritten note attached because Valentine’s Day is about showing appreciation to those he loves — not just romantically. He also gives Viktor a gift, maybe a collection of caffeinated teas.
He goes all out with you, though. Jayce occasionally gives you flowers, so he steps up his game. That doesn’t mean he won’t give you your favourite flowers, because he 100% will. In addition to a huge bouquet, he gifts you a little black box with something he made inside.
Jayce will be in his forge days before, creating a trinket for you. It could be a bracelet, necklace, or ring. Jayce would make you an engagement ring with your initials engraved on the inside of its band when that time comes around, but for now, he’d settle for a simple promise ring. He doesn’t often gift you things he’s created in his forge because he doesn’t want it to lose its novelty.
Though Jayce may claim getting him a gift is unnecessary, it’s a lie. He gets ecstatic when you return the favour. If you give him any jewellery, he won’t take it off. Have you seen how attached he is to the hex crystal on his leather wristband? It’s because it’s held significance to his life, and so have you.
He’d want to be buried with any jewellery you’ve gotten him — rings, bracelet, a locket with a picture of your face — he’s cherishing it. The only way to show his appreciation of the piece, and by extension, you, is to wear it every day until he can’t anymore.
ACTS OF SERVICES (no vday mention but u win some u lose some)
Living with Jayce can be monotonous, but being a Councilor or being with a Councilor is not the average experience, so the monotony is comforting.
Simple chores such as taking out the trash or cleaning up your shared home provide normalcy in his life that the role of a Councilor didn’t fulfil. Don’t get him wrong, he’s grateful for his seat on the Council, but some days Jayce would rather be stuck in his lab working out kinks in an invention or maybe preparing a meal to surprise you when you’re home from work or school instead of being in an office.
I’ve seen people headcanon Jayce as a terrible cook. It is funny, but I personally think Jayce spent a lot of time in the kitchen with his mom growing up, and food is a love language for him. He seems like a guy who eats good. (Have you seen how huge he is??)
His mother would cut apples and bring them to him when he was preoccupied with studying or research. Jayce does the same for you.
When you’re overworking yourself, hunched over your desk, one spelling error away from a mental breakdown, Jayce will knock on the door and offer you fresh fruit or a simple meal. Jayce would love to be home helping around, but he’s rarely there, so he tries to help in the little ways he can.
It’s a nonverbal reminder to take care of yourself because Jayce loves you and doesn’t want you to stress yourself out. It is hypocritical, considering he returns home late most days because he’s usually worrying about political business.
He doesn’t mind when you return the gesture, of course. There will be days he’s overworked and needs you to care for him.
QUALITY TIME & PHYSICAL TOUCH
These go hand in hand with Jayce. If he’s spending time with you, he’s touching you in some sort of way. He’s like a newborn baby — Jayce needs skin-to-skin contact. He wakes up earlier just to experience you cuddled up next to him, and he has to kiss you before work each morning. You’re not conscious half the time, but you feel his lips on your forehead.
Normally, he attempts to make any excuse to see you throughout the day to spend an extra couple of hours with you. You’re at the academy as a scholar or professor? He’s dropping by after your class to gift you a sweet treat — a kiss or, if you’re lucky, some sort of pastry — and chat you up.
His hand subconsciously itch to touch you when you’re conversing. He doesn’t know where to put them, though. Jayce contemplates resting them on your hip, but they just brush against you until you take the hint and intertwine your fingers with his.
If you work elsewhere, Jayce is taking his lunchtime to bother you during yours. He buys you lunch and asks how your day is so far, attempting to spend as much time as possible with you since you both have busy schedules.
Jayce would take you out to a fancy dinner for Valentine’s Day if you’d like, but enjoying each other’s company after another tiring day of work is what he’d prefer most.
He loves cooking and enjoys every component of dinner with you, including preparing, eating, and washing the dishes.
Music fills the room, and Jayce hums to the tune while he prepares the ingredients. You don’t even have to cook — you could be his taste tester, ensuring he’s added enough seasoning. You’re both enjoying each other’s presence, not talking much.
Jayce gets his recipes from his mom. He definitely asked her which dish would impress you the most, and he followed the written instructions on the piece of paper. When you compliment the meal, he tells his mom how much you appreciate it when he visits her later.
As boring as it seems, he loves doing the dishes with you. It’s another excuse to spend more time with you, even if it’s mundane. He washes the plates; you dry them. It’s repetitive, but he adores the close proximity, your shoulders bumping together as he passes you another plate for you to dry.
However, his favourite part of Valentine’s Day is taking a bath with you. Sure, it’s cliché, but Jayce is a lover boy. It’s not often he gets you like this, so let him have it.
Jayce can barely fit in the bathtub, his knees peeking out the warm water as he bends his knees, suds clinging to his bare skin, but he doesn’t care. It can go either way: your back pressed to Jayce’s chest, his chin resting on top of your damp hair or Jayce’s back is pressed to your chest, his head resting on the crook of your neck.
He doesn’t mind either way. Once your bare skin is sticking to his, Jayce is at peace. The added scent of fragrant candles and the gentle light they cast on your dewy skin increased the intimacy of the scenario. There’s something about cleaning each other’s body, cleansing the other of the day’s burden that sends Jayce’s heart beating erratically.
Additionally, Jayce gives you an amateur massage before bed. He’s oddly good at it. Jayce is strong, and his hands are skilled, but it’s downright orgasmic when his thumb digs into your back, working out the knots.
He expects you to repay him for his efforts. Maybe not by a massage, but you’re going to have to make it up to him somehow. I’m sure you’ll get creative.
WORDS OF AFFIRMATION
Jayce is very vocal about his love with you. He tells you he loves you any chance he gets. Between kisses, before work, while you’re asleep — he wants you to know how much he loves you. He needs you to know you mean the world to him.
It’s not just ‘I love you’s he tells you. Jayce loves complimenting you, even when you think you look like shit.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he says after you’ve woken up from your well-deserved nap. You have bags under your eyes, your hair’s dishevelled, and your eyes are barely open, but Jayce truthfully thinks you’re gorgeous no matter how much you think you look a mess.
He also makes it known how proud he is of you. Again, you don’t need to do anything revolutionary; maybe you finished a book, yet Jayce lets it be known how proud he is of you.
Jayce talks about you to other people. I’m sure Caitlyn is sick of hearing how amazing you are, and his mother is elated her son found someone who loves him so dearly. It’s all she wants for her sweet boy.
like, you’re both on the couch or something, and jayce wants to occupy his fingers. he’s always fidgeting, so he decides to trails his fingers into your underwear, rubbing your clit while he reads a book on thermodynamics or some shit.
it’s a win-win situation tbh. he’s occupied AND making you feel good, even if he’s low-key overstimulating your poor cunt, but he’ll stop eventually just let him finish this last chapter
summary. viktor is distracting and you give him a taste of his own medicine
tags. gn!reader, academic rivals to ???, kissing, no smut. i’ve never written for vik so this is me pre-gaming for the request i got. constructive critisim is welcomed !
You’ve been staring at the 71 on the paper for the entire class, and your frown deepens each minute that ticks by. You can feel Viktor’s gaze on you as he periodically glances back. It irritates you further.
The bastard knew he got a better mark than you, judging by the grimace on your face. However, he isn’t aware that your grade is way worse than either of you expected. You are better than this. This was your best class. You’ve averaged in your 90s, never dipping below 80. It was your best class until Viktor decided to take the same course at the start of the new academic year.
When class is over, you crumble the offending test in your hand. It was his fault. The way his pretty eyes light up and the stupid smirk on his face when he one-ups you. It was all you thought about during the midterm. You refuse to blame yourself for your own thoughts.
The look he gave you before your last midterm has been stuck in your mind for the past few days. Viktor knows what he does to you. He had to. He’s intelligent, but so were you. There’s no way he didn’t like you at least a little. He enjoyed ‘annoying’ you. That’s what he likes to think it was. Viktor’s bothersome nature to you, since he thought of you as competition, was an excuse to get closer to you. Maybe it was delusional, but you think you were vigilant.
The lecture hall was almost empty, yet Viktor waited for you. You slung your bag over one of your shoulders as you approached him.
“You seem pleased with yourself,” you grumbled, and Viktor’s smirk widened.
“Why would I be?” he responds. You roll your eyes and give your paper ball to him. In return, he passes you his exam, pristine with only one fold. You open it, revealing a nearly perfect score — a 97. No way.
You look at him as he unravels the crumpled-up piece of paper, smoothing out the creases. His brows quirk in surprise at the mediocre mark, and you wince, definitely not your best work.
“This is your fault, you know,” you say, handing him his exam paper. “You’re distracting.”
“I fail to see how that’s my problem,” Viktor replies. You wanted simultaneously to throttle and kiss him.
You weren’t mad. You knew your head wasn’t in the game when you wrote that paper, but it didn’t hurt any less. It was still a decent mark, given the class’ average of 53. However, you weren’t slightly better than average. You were supposed to excel.
He gives you back yours, and you ball it up again, shoving it into the pocket of your uniform trousers. You intended to throw it out on your way to your next class, and coincidentally, Viktor had a midterm afterwards. It makes it all the more confusing why he’d wait for you if he had better matters to attend to.
“Why don’t I even the playing field?” you asked. You shuffled closer to him, but he didn’t back away; instead, he leaned closer as he supported himself on his cane. Your faces were mere inches apart.
Viktor was curious about what you meant by your words. However, he didn’t expect your lips to brush against his as you moved closer. Viktor’s eyes widen, yet he refuses to shift away. You took it as a sign and pressed your lips to his.
Viktor’s lashes flutter close, and his cane drops to the floor with a faint clack emanating throughout the empty lecture hall as he cups your face. You taste coffee on his tongue and desperation on his lips. The kiss was swift, ending as quickly as it happened, and weakly, he tried to chase you as you parted from him.
As you bend down to retrieve his fallen cane, Viktor tries to process the situation. His eyes follow your every move. If you planned to temporarily rewire his brain, you succeeded.
You return his cane to his grasp and walk to the exit of the room, your shoulder brushing against his as you call out, “Good luck in your midterm, Vik.”
oh shit my bad bro idk if you even write for viktor, ur the number one jayce dick rider 🙏🔥 (positive)
i can attempt writing for viktor, but i’m terrified of making him ooc. i’ll try tho!! it’s good to write different characters. can you be a lil more specific with your previous ask, anon?? ty for the request <33
heyy not to be a total weirdo but do you have a link to the video that inspired your latest jayce fic??? no worries if not! awesome fic too, i wish i could print and eat it <3
you’re cool. warning though, it is literally twitter porn so yeah
nsfw. gn!reader, pegging, sneaky-ish sex, based on a video i saw on twt
Fucking Jayce standing doggy in his lab. Send tweet.
His hands grip the edge of his workbench for support as you push more of your cock/strap into him. When your entire length is inside him, he lets out a loud groan, and you have to clamp your hand on his mouth, telling him, “Shut the fuck up.”
It’s late, and the halls are quiet, but you’re not taking risks for his sake. Jayce has been needing this the entire day, pleading for you with those golden eyes of his, and he finally has you stuffing him full. It’s dizzying, especially with the added exhaustion of the day’s work.
He needed to get fucked good by you. The irony is he ends up fucking himself on your dick.
You stilled your hips, so he could adjust to your girth, but Jayce was too fucking needy to appreciate the gesture. Instead, he rocks back into you. You’re startled by the sudden movement, but you leave him be, too tired to give a fuck.
Your hands grasp his hips under his shirt, squeezing his warm skin. You’re not even thrusting your hips. Jayce is moving himself on your cock, insistently pushing his ass back into you. The entire table rocks with his desperate movement due to his hold.
His moans are ragged, and his thighs are quivering. The sounds of the table pushing back into the wall and Jayce moans as he pushes back to you fill the room. He feels so good. The drag of your cock along his spasming walls and your nails digging into his skin.
Jayce is practically on his toes when he finds the angle that makes his mind blank. You could thrust into him and help him finish quicker, but this is too amusing.
One of his large palms reaches around to grasp at the back of your thigh, forcing you into him deeper. You take it as your sign to start fucking him properly. Though, you were not opposed to seeing him finish without your help. Your pants and his gasps mix when you buck your hips forward, allowing him to take more of you in.
Your thrusts are sloppy, but they were more coordinated than when Jayce fucked himself on you like you were his personal toy. Your hand moves to his chest, squeezing his pecs and then makes their way to his cock.
Jayce’s spine curves downward when he climaxes, and a loud moan reverberates throughout the lab’s walls. You don’t bother shutting him up this time, focusing your remaining energy on holding him upright as you fuck the residual pleasure out of his body.
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