a/n. FINALLY finished season 3 !! i swear i wasnât ignoring your guysâ request i felt obligated to finish the show before i write anything... anyways donât forget to reblog ! ty
Travis couldnât stop staring at you.
He wasnât used to the whole dating thing, but he knew boyfriends gave their partners their clothes. It was an unwritten rule, but heâs not sure why you like it so much. Maybe itâs the pheromones clinging to fabric or some bullshit. Itâs 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 wasnât even because you looked cute in his clothesâ 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 wasnât staring at you the entire time, silently admiring you as you laughed at each joke Van had said.
âHey,â Travis greets you as you approach him. Shamelessly, you trespass into his personal space. It was another relationship thing he wasnât familiar with, but he loved it â 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.Â
âHi,â 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 couldnât stand being away from him. Travis would hear guys bitch and moan about how their girlsâ would be too clingy, but Travis thought they were dramatic.Â
âYou look nice in my clothes,â he comments, and your grin widens. Your fingers fidget aimlessly with the lower buttons of the shirt.
âJust nice?â you questioned, tilting your head to the side, acting confused. One of Travisâ 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, thatâs 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.
âReally nice,â he murmured, pulling you closer to him. You place your hands on his shoulder, steadying yourself. You let out a breath, surprised at Travisâ sudden brazen behaviour. Travis wasnât 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 wasnât aware he kept hidden.
You peer over his shoulder, noticing the others were nearby. Travisâ brow furrowed in confusion, turning his head to glance at what youâre staring at. Heâd much prefer if all your attention were on him. He questions, âWhatâre you looking at?â
You scoff, but thereâs no malice since youâre still smiling. âYou know theyâre gonna essentially bully me, right?â
âThey tease you anyway. Canât I just appreciate you?â 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.
âAsshole,â you huff, but you donât do anything to stop him. He smiles, something he finds himself doing more often. Even if youâre 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, âI love your smile.â
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, âYeah.â
Travisâ 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. Itâs to get the point across that he wasnât playing any cheap tricks â 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, âIs this your card?â
âNo,â you responded amused. Youâd feel bad if he wasnât showing off his fancy fingerwork. All those tricks just for it to fall flat.
âAre you sure?â he asks, confusion embedded in his words. Travis flipped back the offending card, a 7 of clubs, concealing it once more.
âIâm pretty sure I remember what my card looks like.â
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.
âDid it look like this?â 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 didnât anticipate your genuine shock. When he first showed the trick to his mom, even at eleven years old he could sense she wasnât honest in her reaction.
âWhaâ how?â
Travis leans back against his chair, a smug grin on his face. He shrugs, âA magician never reveals his secrets.â
Given that he has never been with a girl prior to the crash, I think once you have him in your hold heâs so whiny.
Away from prying eyes, you finally have him all to yourself. Youâve been perpetually edged, silently observing him as he does his share of chores around the cabin. Travis thinks heâs 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, heâs melting in your palms.
The desperation is palpable between the both of you. When you press your lips to his, Travis canât help the gasp that escapes him. Thatâs 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 â needed to hear more of it, and it wasnât 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 itâs humiliating. He parts from your lips, tilting his head back to collide with the tree in a quiet âthudâ.
You immediately attach yourself to his neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin. Travis swallows his nerves and his Adamâs apple bobs against your lips. It was dizzying for the both of you, but especially for Travis.
âWaitâ wait,â Travis pants, catching breath. He didnât want to risk being loud again, not only because he didnât 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.
âYou okay, Trav?â you asked.
âIâm fine,â his voice cracks at the end of the statement, and heâs further humiliated. He knows you could care less, but he does. Heâs overwhelmed by it all. You canât 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 heâs 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.
Heâs getting teary-eyed just because youâre playing with his cock. Pathetic, truly, but you wouldnât like him any other way.
His hoarse voice wavers when he pleads a quiet, âPlease.â
Jayce doesnât know if heâs begging you to stop or to continue. His mind is scrambled, and thereâs a blank look in his eyes when he comes again like he doesnât understand a thing going on in his pretty little head. How ironic.
Maybe youâre being a little mean. Just a little. Youâve lost track of time, unsure of how long your hand has been moving up and down his dick, but youâre not going to stop anytime soon. Your fingers are coated with his sticky release, clinging to your digits like tendrils. Itâs embarrassing. Jayce is all for appearance, but he looks broken in your grasp.
i miss you all too!! iâve 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. iâm not dead yet ! however i do feel like i am dead
a/n. iâm sorry this is late jayce nd i were trying for a baby (heâs the one getting pregnant btw) but for real school has been hell and iâve been lacking motivation lately
GIFT GIVING
Jayce loves giving gifts, especially to those he loves. Whether itâs birthdays, anniversaries or holidays, heâs sure to get his loved ones a thoughtful present.
Itâs no different on Valentineâs Day. Every year, he gets his mother and Caitlyn their favourite flowers with a handwritten note attached because Valentineâs Day is about showing appreciation to those he loves â 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 doesnât mean he wonât 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, heâd settle for a simple promise ring. He doesnât often gift you things heâs created in his forge because he doesnât want it to lose its novelty.
Though Jayce may claim getting him a gift is unnecessary, itâs a lie. He gets ecstatic when you return the favour. If you give him any jewellery, he wonât take it off. Have you seen how attached he is to the hex crystal on his leather wristband? Itâs because itâs held significance to his life, and so have you.
Heâd want to be buried with any jewellery youâve gotten him â rings, bracelet, a locket with a picture of your face â heâs cherishing it. The only way to show his appreciation of the piece, and by extension, you, is to wear it every day until he canât 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 didnât fulfil. Donât get him wrong, heâs 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 youâre home from work or school instead of being in an office.
Iâve 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 youâre 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 heâs rarely there, so he tries to help in the little ways he can.
Itâs a nonverbal reminder to take care of yourself because Jayce loves you and doesnât want you to stress yourself out. It is hypocritical, considering he returns home late most days because heâs usually worrying about political business.
He doesnât mind when you return the gesture, of course. There will be days heâs overworked and needs you to care for him.
QUALITY TIME & PHYSICAL TOUCH
These go hand in hand with Jayce. If heâs spending time with you, heâs touching you in some sort of way. Heâs like a newborn baby â 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. Youâre 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. Youâre at the academy as a scholar or professor? Heâs dropping by after your class to gift you a sweet treat â a kiss or, if youâre lucky, some sort of pastry â and chat you up.
His hand subconsciously itch to touch you when youâre conversing. He doesnât 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 Valentineâs Day if youâd like, but enjoying each otherâs company after another tiring day of work is what heâd 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 donât even have to cook â you could be his taste tester, ensuring heâs added enough seasoning. Youâre both enjoying each otherâs 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. Itâs another excuse to spend more time with you, even if itâs mundane. He washes the plates; you dry them. Itâs repetitive, but he adores the close proximity, your shoulders bumping together as he passes you another plate for you to dry.
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 doesnât care. It can go either way: your back pressed to Jayceâs chest, his chin resting on top of your damp hair or Jayceâs back is pressed to your chest, his head resting on the crook of your neck.
He doesnât 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. Thereâs something about cleaning each otherâs body, cleansing the other of the dayâs burden that sends Jayceâs heart beating erratically.
Additionally, Jayce gives you an amateur massage before bed. Heâs oddly good at it. Jayce is strong, and his hands are skilled, but itâs 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 youâre going to have to make it up to him somehow. Iâm sure youâll 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 youâre asleep â he wants you to know how much he loves you. He needs you to know you mean the world to him.
Itâs not just âI love youâs he tells you. Jayce loves complimenting you, even when you think you look like shit.Â
âYou look beautiful, sweetheart,â he says after youâve woken up from your well-deserved nap. You have bags under your eyes, your hairâs dishevelled, and your eyes are barely open, but Jayce truthfully thinks youâre gorgeous no matter how much you think you look a mess.
He also makes it known how proud he is of you. Again, you donât 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. Iâm sure Caitlyn is sick of hearing how amazing you are, and his mother is elated her son found someone who loves him so dearly. Itâs all she wants for her sweet boy.
like, youâre both on the couch or something, and jayce wants to occupy his fingers. heâs 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.
itâs a win-win situation tbh. heâs occupied AND making you feel good, even if heâs low-key overstimulating your poor cunt, but heâll 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. iâve never written for vik so this is me pre-gaming for the request i got. constructive critisim is welcomed !
Youâve been staring at the 71 on the paper for the entire class, and your frown deepens each minute that ticks by. You can feel Viktorâs 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 isnât aware that your grade is way worse than either of you expected. You are better than this. This was your best class. Youâve 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. Heâs intelligent, but so were you. Thereâs no way he didnât like you at least a little. He enjoyed âannoyingâ you. Thatâs what he likes to think it was. Viktorâs 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.
âYou seem pleased with yourself,â you grumbled, and Viktorâs smirk widened.
âWhy would I be?â 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 â 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.
âThis is your fault, you know,â you say, handing him his exam paper. âYouâre distracting.â
âI fail to see how thatâs my problem,â Viktor replies. You wanted simultaneously to throttle and kiss him.
You werenât mad. You knew your head wasnât in the game when you wrote that paper, but it didnât hurt any less. It was still a decent mark, given the classâ average of 53. However, you werenât 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 heâd wait for you if he had better matters to attend to.
âWhy donât I even the playing field?â you asked. You shuffled closer to him, but he didnât 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 didnât expect your lips to brush against his as you moved closer. Viktorâs eyes widen, yet he refuses to shift away. You took it as a sign and pressed your lips to his.
Viktorâs 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, âGood luck in your midterm, Vik.â
oh shit my bad bro idk if you even write for viktor, ur the number one jayce dick rider đđ„ (positive)
i can attempt writing for viktor, but iâm terrified of making him ooc. iâll try tho!! itâs 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
youâre 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, âShut the fuck up.â
Itâs late, and the halls are quiet, but youâre 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. Itâs dizzying, especially with the added exhaustion of the dayâs work.Â
He needed to get fucked good by you. The irony is he ends up fucking himself on your dick.Â
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. Youâre 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. Youâre 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.
Jayceâs spine curves downward when he climaxes, and a loud moan reverberates throughout the labâs walls. You donât 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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