#beta jayce talis

[spectral-devotee]

Cross-posted from my AO3 fic

Word count: 2,930

Birds of a feather

Chapter 02: Where Jayce's life started to change

Summary:

Jayce finally makes an appearance and meets a mysterious woman who arrived late to that year’s Distinguished Innovator’s Competition. They are both impressed by each other’s projects (even if neither of them won any sort of award), and have a well needed talk for both sides. You both needed a friend.

Jayce’s expectations for himself had always been high, maybe too high at times. He always strived for the best, be it his short time working at his family’s workshop or the effort he placed in every piece of work he put out into the world. Admiration took a part in this process too.

At times he found it hard to reject his family’s hopes in him becoming the next generation of smither due to how much they looked forward to working alongside him. The way his father looked proud of him when he taught him how to work metal was ingrained in his brain, or the times his cousins would tell him how fortunate he was to inherit a solid business had Jayce swallowing the lump in his throat.

As fast as he was able to lift a hammer he knew that smithing was not what he wanted to do with his life. As inventive of a trade as it could be, it did not quell the hunger inside him, the drive to do something that would change the world.

If he were to be completely honest he just wanted to make the world a better place. Deep inside him he knew he wanted to change people’s lives. If they admired him for it he would be happy too, but he was all too aware the kind of praise he seeked wasn’t going to happen. Betas usually aren’t as favored as Alphas, at least not in most of Runeterra.

Ever since he was young Jayce noticed the treatment Alphas received, and most importantly, what was expected of them. Everything people claimed made an Alpha became everything he wanted to become: someone strong, someone who wishes to protect others with the power to do so.

These ideas were accentuated when the cloaked Alpha man appeared and came just in time to save him and his mother during that snowstorm. That day had changed him fundamentally. He saw the arcane, the power it held and how it could save people’s lives, then again he also saw the true nature of an Alpha in action. If only he could be like him.

Jayce shook his head at that. No need to torture himself with ‘what-ifs’. He was a Beta, and that was fine. Just fine.

Not really, not for him, but he was on his way to accept his denomination.

He continued working on the last few details of the project he would be presenting at the Distinguished Innovators Competition in just a few hours. Just one more turn to this gear and…

“Oh, I thought you said you wanted to be early at the Academy today”

Jayce turned to see Caitlyn standing in the doorway to his room. Yesterday she told him she would be there at the workshop to pick up her new and improved rifle. The other one broke the week prior during one of her shooting practices. She actually had one hell of a talent for marksmanship, but that was beside the point.

“What do you mean, Cait? You’re the one who’s early” Jayce replied looking at his clock, now all too aware of the position of the sun.

“What I mean is that it’s already 9am, I thought you would’ve been out of here by now”

Jayce ran to take a closer look at the clock beside his desk. Its hour hand permanently stuck to the 7 and the minute hand to the 56. 

The submissions would be accepted until 9:30 am.

“Shit-”

Papers flew as Jayce started gathering his coat, keys and bag. Cailtyn quickly moved out of the way before he ran her over with the cart that carried his project.

“Shit. Shit. I gotta run” 

The door slammed behind Jayce, and then opened again.

“The rifle is on the workbench. Take care Cait, I’ll see you later”

…

The central plaza, usually referred to as the Science plaza, had been modified for today’s event. Long metal strings were fastened to the surrounding buildings. They hung from side to side carrying white veils stamped with Piltover’s crest, making the whole space look alive.

Jayce would have usually been over the moon admiring every single detail put into the decoration. Hell, he would have even wanted to stay and look at his classmates’ stands and exchange ideas for next year’s competition, but the pressure of arranging his stand with so little time left had him quite preoccupied.

His stand consisted of a presentation sheet showcasing his new hammer, though it was not the protagonist. The innovative detail to his hammer was the experimental battery it used. He hadn’t gotten very far in his study of what he started calling ‘Hextech’, but he had come to realise some raw minerals reacted when infused with the essence of the rune the cloaked man had given him. It acted as a catalyst for any given force exercised with the tool in question, in this case, the hammer.

Miners, smithers, constructors and other professions could benefit from his experimental battery, if his schematics on the comparative of costs and advantages compared to other similar tools in the market.

By the time he was somewhat close to settled, most other participants had already left. 

Keyword: most.

“Ah fuck”

Jayce, who was currently under the table, hit his head on the side of it from the suddenness of her arrival. He turned to take a peek at the mysterious voice cursing out loud, immediately intrigued by it.

A young woman around his age put down several boxes full with models, sketches and presentation sheets just a few stands away from his own.

He continued fixing his stand for a while. To his surprise, there were still ten minutes left when he actually finished. After those ten minutes were finished, all participants would formally be asked to leave. He was fast to recover a few stray boxes and put them away when he heard the same woman muttering while still finishing up arranging her display.

Disqualifications from the competition were not common, but not unheard of either. The last one he knew of happened a few years prior. It was a friend of his, actually. He said his heat started a few days before the competition and he had to call someone to make the model for him to submit in time. Sadly, that was taken as cheating and he had to be sanctioned with elimination from the third place.

He looked at her again. If she didn’t finish in.. now nine minutes, she would most likely suffer the same consequences.

Jayce started walking towards her. She noticed and her posture became tense, surely fearing he was going to ask her to leave.

Instead he bent down next to her. 

And only then did he notice how beautiful she was.

Her scent filled his nose and he swore he had never smelled anything as lovely.

But there would be time for that later, right now he needed to focus.

Jayce spoke first “Hey, uhm. Can I help you?”

She looked equal parts scared and excited that he was not, in fact, part of the jury.

“YES, PLEASE”

“What do I-” A stack of papers was thrown to his chest.

“Put these on the table, they are numbered. And this” A presentation sheet was handled to him “-goes there” She signaled to an acrylic base.

“On it, boss”

A smile appeared on her lips, but she continued putting other models on her table with care.

As Jayce was arranging her papers, he discovered bit by bit what her project was about.

It was a vertical park with a solar-powered light trail meant to bring sunlight to the very bottom of the undercity in Zaun. 

Jayce wanted to ask her many questions right then and there, but her schematics answered every one of them. While it used solar energy, it still needed other undisclosed sources of energy to bring light deeper than 300 metres.

The park would also have a water treatment plant to clean the waters, and make it drinkable for its users. This park would extend from an existing artificial lake in the Sump level all the way to the Science Plaza.

He could only imagine all the locations specified in her architectural plans were correct as he only knew some of them in the Promenade and Entresol levels. 

Some blueprints would need corrections. He did notice a few miscalculations and unnecessary installations, but other than that this could very well be a professional master plan for an urban-sized makeover of Piltover and Zaun.

The final papel he put in place was a sketch of sorts that depicted Zaunite living spaces within the park, possibly a future addition to her already very complex network of levels.

Who even was this woman?

…

As oblivious as he looked from time to time, Jayce was actually quite observant. He realised that this mysterious woman too was a student in the Piltover Academy. Unlike him, she was in the Architecture school a few buildings over to the East side of the school grounds. What he guessed was her name was signed at the very beginning of her sketchbook, but that felt too invasive so he limited himself to opening the page she indicated.

With just two minutes left, she stood next to him. They both looked proudly at her display.

“It looks amazing! Thank you so much for your help” She then took a few steps to her left “This one is yours, right? I saw you putting it up a while ago” Her smile gleamed and she looked at him “Unless you were here helping yet another student in dire need of a knight in shining armor, just like me” She struck a dramatic pose with her hand to her forehead, imitating a damsel in distress.

Jayce came out of the trance that had taken him over, now again too conscious of how beautiful she was, and chuckled lightly “Ah, yes. That one’s mine”

“All participants remaining, please do approach the exit gate. The jury will come out shortly. All results will be given tomorrow morning at 10am sharp” Dr. Heimerdinger’s voice came from the speakers.

“-Let’s not get too hung up on that, though. We really need to get going” Jayce grabbed his boxes and they both quickened their pace. 

“Right…” Her eyes, serious all of a sudden, locked with Jayce’s “Do you have anything else to do after this?”

“Not really. I was hoping to catch up to some sleep later in the evening, but nothing other than that”

“Could I tempt you to go with me for a drink, then?”

Jayce paused expecting her to correct herself. She did not.

“S- Sure”

“Perfect. I’d like to have a word with you about your ‘experimental battery’, if it’s not too much trouble”

“A- Ah, yes of course. Only, if you don’t mind, could I ask you a question?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“What does the E. in your notes mean?”

Then it was her turn to chuckle “That happens to be my name, Jayce Talis”

“How did-”

“I saw your stand, remember? You wrote your name in all caps, my man. It’s very hard to miss. Besides, the hammer was a very telling clue, only the Talis’ make them that good”

“Alright, alright. But then what is your name?”

“Eda du Marquis”

“Wait, ‘du Marquis’ like councilman-”

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about that after we’ve had a few drinks”

They had finally crossed the exit gate and the metal doors closed behind them, leaving the pair to enjoy the evening.

…

Eda, as Jayce would come to understand in a remarkably short amount of time, was an enormous character in itself. A character he didn’t know how much he had been yearning to meet until now. She was as lovely and cute as much as she was an absolute menace. 

When she had invited him for a drink, he guessed they would pass time in a quiet coffee shop, maybe they’d go to the tea parlor a few blocks down the road and for a walk near the docks. What he did not foresee, understandably, was Eda taking him to the student-managed school’s canteen (which he didn’t even know existed until today) and getting him positively, categorically, doubtlessly, truly, surely, definitely, unquestionably, decisively fucking hammered.

“Let me get this straight, Jayce boy” Eda took a sip of her new cocktail, the ‘something something stormy’ “You did all of that yourself? Like, all the equations, experimentation, prototypes, and trials. On. Your. Own”

Ever since Jayce’s third beer, he hadn’t stopped smiling. She was just that charismatic. Besides, the collection of beer bottles next to him started looking blurry a while ago

“Yes, Eda, yes. We do this all the time in the department, I swear! There are labs dedicated solely to dangerous experimentation. Hmmm. Now that I say it out loud, it does sound kinda concerning, but you’d be surprised at the queues some students make to try out their prototypes in there”

“Really?” Eda extended her hand and called over the waiter “Another one of this pleaseeee- Ooo, thank you”

“Yes. One time, well, last year-” Jayce settled into a more comfortable position in his seat “a friend of a friend told my friend, who then told me” They laughed “-that he submitted his project to the Distinguished Innovator’s Competition without the necessary research” 

Eda looked at him aghast

“He had all the sources and the research, don’t get me wrong. He just didn’t submit it”

“Bad call” She took another sip of her drink.

“Very bad call. He said Dr. Heimerdinger’s assistant almost got him expelled right then and there”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah. I’ve never met the guy, but people say he’s more strict than Heimerdinger. Others say that while he’s strict, he’s also a very good teacher”

“Do you think he’s hot?”

“EDA!”

“What? I’m just asking the real questions” She mustered up one of her lascivious smiles “Well, anyway, it’s just that it’s very impressive. What you do, I mean”

“The hammer seemed impressive to you?”

“Sure, yeah, the hammer is nice. You can’t say a Talis hammer has ever failed you, right? But right now I’m talking about your ‘Hextech’ thing. It needs some tuning and much more research, yes, but you’re on the right trail with that”

“You think?” Jayce already knew this idea was remarkable, but something deep inside him wanted Eda to say it.

“Absolutely, I think it’s amaz- Wait” Eda drew nearer to him “You want me to tell you how much I admire your research, don’t you?”

“What? Pfff, no…” Immediately Jayce blushed. His secret what out.

“Oh, you’re just too cute for your own good Jayce-y. But, if you want me to say it, it’s alright. I really do think this will change the world. Mark my words”

Jayce started playing with one of the empty bottles scattered next to him “I, uhm, think your project was very formidable too, Eda”

Eda inhaled sharply “You don’t need to butter me up. I know that project won’t sit well with the councilmembers”

He became serious “Why would you say that?”

“If I were to seriously propose a master plan like the one I submitted, it would imply many things. Things most Piltovians don’t like to admit, nor see”

“What would those things be?”

“That Zaunites and Piltovians are equals, that we both deserve sunlight, clean air, and water. Not to mention things like security, an opportunity to raise children without fearing they will either become Chembarons or die to their hands. Overall decent living conditions”

“What does your brother think about that?”

“Whatever my brother thinks is of no importance to me, if I were to speak frankly, which I do. What the people of Zaun think is, to say the least, very valuable to me”

“You speak like you’re a Zaunite”

“I am”

Time stood still once more, this time without a broken clock.

Her smile rose anew, now different, in an indescribable way. Her eyes told a tale Jayce couldn’t even begin to unravel then. He would have to be patient for that.

“Let me get the tab. Don’t worry about the money”

The waiter brought them the tab and Eda paid without a word. The pair started walking to the docks.

…

By now the sun was starting to set.

Jayce began talking “Your research, as I said, is very formidable, if not revolutionary. But…”

“But I don’t have a reliable power source”

“So you are aware of the design flaws”

“Very much so, that’s why I wanted to get to know you” Eda rested the elbows on the rotten wood fence “I wanted to hear more about your ‘Hextech’ before I told you about my plans”

“Your plans?”

“I’d like to make my project come to live eventually, Jayce. I know I’m just an architecture student right now, but I want to change this-” She gestured at everything surrounding them “This whole thing, system, whatever you want to call it. I want the people ‘downstairs’ to know what it is like to wake up to the sun hitting your face”

“How can I help you?”

“Your Hextech” Eda paused. “It will take time, I’m willing to wait. If you play your cards good enough, which I will help you do, your Hextech will be able to power the light trail, the water plants, the windmills and the houses I want to build”

“Well, I do need a partner”

“Happy to oblige, Jayce-y”

...

Notes:

Let me know if you liked this very dialogue heavy approach. I’ve never done it before, but it felt natural for them to talk. A lot. I wanted the boys and Eda to bond individually on a very deep level before any romantic feelings take place. I love the friends to lovers trope even if I don’t consume it as much.

As far as I can remember, not much is said about the Distinguished Innovator’s Competition aside from the fact that Jayce, Viktor, Powder and Ekko participated in it in their respective timelines, so I wanted it to feel like a very well-regarded competition that everyone enjoys and is actually very fun to take a part in. For the presentation method I took reference from my experience in architecture school where you just let your project speak for itself with no intervention on your behalf, though it may vary from school to school.

As stated in the previous chapter, yes Eda (Reader), is Salo’s younger sister. She was born a Zaunite and became a Piltovian later in life. More on that in the following chapters.

Fun fact: I didn’t remember Salo’s lastname and then, by the time I had already written a lot of background for Eda, I realised he didn’t have one! I think his name is very heavily inspired by Pasolini’s movie based on the Marquis de Sade book “120 days of Sodom” (but I could be wrong, don’t quote me on that one), so I gave him a House name heavily inspired by it too.

Worry not, the heftier ABO implications will come in the next chapter as Eda’s, Jayce’s and Viktor’s (omega, beta, and alpha respectively) nature becomes relevant to the story. These first few chapters are meant to give a glimpse into the characters ideals, goals and future challenges.

[autumnblooms]

“You are…the final tether…to my humanity”

[arkaniske]

Glitter & Gold.

2600ish words\ SFW\Jayvik

Summary: Jayce notices something new with Viktor, this has to be inspected closer. For science, of course.

He was no stranger to Viktor’s golden eyes however- the precise line of eyeliner accented by the faintest glint of shimmery copper at the corners of his eyes. It made the gaze of his partner intense. Jayce felt his knees buckle ever so slightly underneath it.

Oh no.

The steady hymn of machinery filled the lab, only the occasional clink of tools and the quiet murmur of Jayce joined the hum of sounds. He had arrived before Viktor, a rare occurrence these days as he often had found his partner sleeping in their lab- not today though. He had spent the morning looking over yesterday’s calculations, circling out a few equations he wished Viktor to look over.

As if summoned the familiar clack clack clack of a cane echoed through the halls and the sound of the door to their lab opened. Jayce turned from his desk, nose still buried in his notebook.

“Good morning, Viktor! I was hoping you could have a look at-“ His gaze lifted to his partner and the words stopped in his throat, choking with the lack of breath. At first, he wasn’t sure what had caught his attention. Viktor, dressed as usual in his rolled up sleeves and white vest, even the red necktie that had become a staple in his wardrobe. No, it was none of those that had caught Jayce off guard.

He was no stranger to Viktor’s golden eyes however- the precise line of eyeliner accented by the faintest glint of shimmery copper at the corners of his eyes. It made the gaze of his partner intense. Jayce felt his knees buckle ever so slightly underneath it.

Oh no.

“Have a look at what, Jayce?”

Oh no.

“Oh uh- yes I…” Jayce blinked, jaw snapping shut as he forcefully had to pull his gaze back to the notebook. Calculations, he could do that. Right. Yeah. Math. Every scientist friend. Math didn’t make his knees buckle and heart jump. “If you see here-“

///

By the time the equation was solved they had settled into their familiar rhythm of the day. Well. As normal as Jayce could be about it all. He didn’t mean to stare, but his eyes kept darting back as Viktor moved about the lab, completely unbothered. Jayce did try to focus on the work in front of him, really, but every time he looked away from Viktor he started counting down the seconds to when it was appropriate to look back to him. He had started with a reasonable limit of 13 seconds between every look, but well… He was now down to 8 seconds.

Viktor settled at his workstation across from him, Jayce fighting a losing battle. He might as well have forgotten how to count with the way he kept glancing over.

“Something on your mind, Jayce?” Viktor asked, his tone neutral as he flipped a page in one of his notebooks. A flicker of amusement in his gaze.

Jayce jolted. “What? No! Nothing! Just, uh… thinking.” He waved his pen vaguely in the air as if that would explain anything. He should stop talking. “Y’know, equations and… science stuff.” Stop talking. “Hextech! Yea, that’s a big one.” Stop talking! “Math too.” Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking- Jayce stopped talking. Watching as Viktor arched an unimpressed brow, and Jayce wanted to crawl under the table.

“Hm. I see.” To say Viktor was unconvinced would be an understatement, but he still returned to his work. Jayce started counting 15 seconds this time.

He couldn’t just blurt it out, could he? Hey, Viktor, you wearing makeup? By the way, it’s unfairly attractive and now I can’t think straight. This is a great day! That would go over well.

Instead, Jayce buried his head in his blueprints, scribbling equations that didn’t entirely make sense. Hours passed in their usual comfort, the lab’s air thick with the smell of metal and ink. Viktor remained focused, sharp as ever, while Jayce stole glance after glance, seconds ticking lower and lower, convinced he was being subtle.

He wasn’t.

When Viktor finally stretched and set his tools down in favour of his mug and reading over notes, Jayce felt his pulse quicken. His chance to say something was slipping away with the daylight. If he didn’t ask now, it’d eat away at him for the rest of the evening. Probably longer if he was honest with himself.

Gathering what little courage he had to clean his throat. “So, uh… Viktor.”

“Hm? What is it, Jayce?” Viktor didn’t look up from the paper and sipped from his mug.

Jayce fidgeted, tapping his pen against the table. “I couldn’t help but notice… uh… are you, um, wearing makeup?”

There was a beat of silence before Viktor finally looked up, golden eyes sharp with curiosity and the unmistakable shine of amusement. Jayce stopped breathing. “Yes.” Viktor said simply.

Jayce’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Words hitching in his throat again for a moment at the added intensity of a lined gaze. “Oh. Ah! Cool!” He winced at how high his voice sounded once it came back to him. “I-I mean, it looks good! Really good! Not that it doesn’t always look- wait- I mean-“

Viktor raised an eyebrow, cutting him off. The ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips as he watched his partner fluster. “Thank you, Jayce.” Soft gratitude.

The calmness was infectious and the smith felt tension ease out of his shoulders enough to find more courage. “It’s nice. I just… haven’t seen you wear it before, y’know.”

“Yes you have.”

What. What.

“What?” Jayce started to flick through his mental library of Viktor. He remembered freckled skin, dark and messy hair, the soft look of Viktor just waking up from a nap, the slightly jagged teeth, the little scar on top of his hand, golden eyes golden eyes golden eyes, sharp cheekbones- no, he couldn’t remember any glitter or red lipstick.

“Jayce, I do this every day.” Viktor answered with a shrug, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “A little bit of lining my eyes and neutralising dark circles, it is eh… making me look less tired. It makes people ask less concerned questions of my wellbeing and focus on what is important.”

“Holy shit, I never noticed…” Jayce leaned back in his chair, his head tilted as he processed the information. “Every day? Wait, is that why you were in later today? You were…” He gestures to his own face, tapping his cheek as if applying a powder.

“Huh? No, Heimendinger was chatty on the way to the lab. I felt rude cutting him off. My application only takes ten minutes or so.” He simply explained. “The reason why you are only now noticing… Well, I ran out of my usual products and forgot to collect more. What I am wearing now is kohl, it is darker and harsher than the pigments I wear everyday. The difference is subtle, not many would have picked up on it.” His tone warm with the realisation of how much attention his partner had given this.

The warmth was a spark to ignite the tips of Jayce’s ears into a light blush. “I… see.” He replied. There was an odd feeling of regret for never noticing before, to know that he might have missed the signs of an exhausted Viktor at the end of the day. Even more so he felt a twinge of ache at all the missed memories that could have been added to his mental library.

The soft sound of curiosity form Viktor was not lost to Jayce as eyes refocused to the man. “Would you like to try? You seem quite taken with it.”

Oh.

“Wait, now? I don’t have- I wouldn’t know where to start. I fear I would stab my own eye out or look stupid and-“

“I’ll do it for you.”

Oh.

///

That is how Jayce found himself comfortably lying on the couch with a pillow raising his head. Viktor had insisted on this instead of hovering over him on a chair. It’ll be horrible on my back, he had said. And who was Jayce to argue. Who was Jayce to argue that they both could sit on the couch and face each other when Viktor had swung a leg over his hips to straddle him. Who was Jayce to argue when Viktor spent a few moments adjusting his braced leg to not dig into Jayces skin. Who was Jayce to argue when Viktor leaned so close to him, to the point where their chests almost touched. No, there was no protest.

He counted 4 seconds now.

Viktor’s legs were warm and solid against Jayce’s sides, his weight pressing down in the most distracting way. Jayce’s heart was hammering hard, and he was almost certain Viktor could hear it, if not feel it when his hand came to a rest at his chest.

For a long moment, all Jayce could focus on was the faint scent of Viktor, the soft brush of breath against his face and the warmth- at this point he was unsure if it was his own or Victor’s. He only knew he felt warm. His mind a chaotic mess, every rational thought slipping away the longer Viktor hovered over him.

“Hold still, Jayce.” Viktor murmured, his voice almost teasing. He knew. He knew as his fingers brushed lightly against Jayce’s cheek and watched the man lean into the simple touch. Viktor did not get a reply to his request, only a weak nod and eyes fluttering shut. “Good.”

Jayce could feel the heat in his cheeks burn bright. With the first touch of a soft brush to his eyelid he felt his own inhale shake. Luckily it did not last long as he found himself incapable of breathing soon after as Viktor leaned closer. The shuffle of his clothes, the warmth of his breath on his face- He’s so close. His head was spinning with the thought. His hand gripping at the hem of his own shirt as to remind himself to stay there, to not reach for Viktor.

“Jayce?” Viktor’s voice was gentle.

Jayce kept his eyes closed. He knew if he looked he wouldn’t be able to close his eyes again no matter what he counted to.

“Jayce, you are forgetting to breathe.”

Oh, right. The burning ache in his chest was in fact not from yearning.

His inhale was sharper than intended and the ache subsided, at least the ache caused by asphyxiation. “Sorry, heh. I didn’t want to, yknow… Accidentally mess it up.” His voice was quieter than what he thought it would be.

“No need for an apology.” Jayce could swear he felt a gentle caress over his cheek as Viktor dismissed his sorry. “Open your eyes for me, will you?”

Who was Jayce to argue when a honeyed voice asked for his attention. He opened his eyes, thankful for the setting sun making their lab darker and gentler on his eyes. He counted two seconds before his eyes found Viktor’s. His heart fluttered in his chest as he found his partner already looking back at him, if it was a trick of the light or wishful thinking, Jayce swore he could see the faintest of crimson adorning Viktor’s cheekbones.

“You- uh. You’re done?” He asked almost hopeful.

“Almost. Just final touches.” Viktor answered. The soft bristled brush came to the outer corners of Jayce’s eyes. This time he could not look away. The soft expression on his partners face, the utter and complete focus as Viktor took his time to create symmetry. Jayce felt the tightening of his throat as he realised he was being studied with the same intensity and carefulness that Viktor would look over blueprints and his notes. The man above him was engulfed in his work, in Jayce. He couldn’t do anything but to stare, keep still and keep his breath even. He felt lightheaded and heavy at the same time.

Jayce had no idea how much time passed before Viktor spoke up again. “There you go. All done.” And then had the audacity to sit back up and regard his work. He rested a finger on Jayce’s chin, burning into his skin, as he easily guided his partners head from side to side. Eyes flickering over his work. Meeting no resistance from the man below him.

“How- I- how does it look?” Jayce felt his voice become thick with emotion.

“Very good. I am good at this, after all.” The corners of Victors mouth curled with a smile. “You look pretty, Jayce. So pretty for me.”

One second.

“Fuck.”

The distance between them closed quickly. Jayce wasn’t sure if he was the one sitting up or if Viktor was the one leaning down. They met somewhere in the middle. The first touch of lips were electric and hasted. Warmth surged through every nerve of Jayce’s body as Viktor’s hand slipped from his chin to his chest. Jayce finally letting go of his own shirt to find his partners waist, hesitant at first but finding the confidence to pull him closer when Viktor deepened the kiss.

Viktor tasted faintly of something sweet, like honey lingering on his lips, though Jayce couldn’t tell if it was from an actual sweet or simply Viktor himself- the thought made him dizzy. He let his fingers tighten against Viktor’s waist, the thin fabric a useless barrier between the two sources of heat. Viktor’s hand was still resting over his chest, steady and grounding, as if to counter the wild hammering of Jayce’s heart.

Viktor kissed with a deliberate intensity, his lips soft but unyielding, as if he were to memorise every part of Jayce’s mouth. And Jayce let him. His chest ached with affection, with desperation, with love. It was overwhelming relief of knowing the affection was mutual. That this was something he could nurture and grow, to cherish with Viktor. His Viktor.

Jayce couldn’t help but let out a quiet, desperate noise when Viktor pulled back just slightly. His golden eyes half-lidded and shimmering with something playful and tender. His smirk was faint but unmistakable, thumb grazing against Jayce’s bottom lip as lips parted. The flush was burning in Jayce’s cheeks as he felt himself tremble underneath the mans touch.

“You are easily flustered.” Viktor fucking purred, his voice warm and teasing, and far too composed for someone who had just stolen the breath out of Jayce’s lungs. He was fucked.

Jayce’s hand flexed against his partners waist, mouth opening and closing, searching for words that wouldn’t come. Instead, he surged up again, capturing Viktor’s lips into another kiss. A plea for more. Viktor’s hand slid up to cup the side of Jayce’s face, his fingers brushing along the jawline. Firm and reassuring. Giving what was asked for.

He could not get over how perfectly Viktor fit against him. His hip snug in the palm of Jayce’s hand, their chests pressed together, Viktor’s fingers threading through Jayce’s hair with such gentle care. Their lips parted with soft panting, small drag of teeth sending shivers down his spine all but making him whine into the kiss. He felt the hums of Viktor’s chuckle kissed into his skin. Burning hotter than any forge Jayce had stood by.

When they finally parted, both with heavy breaths, Viktor didn’t move far. His forehead rested lightly against Jayce’s, their breaths mingling as they stayed close. The quiet intimacy of the moment becoming sacred between the two. Jayce’s eyes fluttered open to find Viktor already watching him, something soft and vulnerable offered in his gaze.

“You- ah… the- uh. I didn’t mess up the makeup, did I?” Jayce rasped, his voice rough and edged a nervous laugh.

Viktor’s lips twitched with affection and amusement. “No.” He said softly, thumb brushing against Jayce’s cheek. “You look perfect. Though… We might have to redo the corners.”

Jayce let out a breathless laugh, his fingers caressing small symbols of admiration into Viktor’s waist. “Worth it.”

“Completely worth it.”

[starrycassi]

Snippet of my jayvik works for silco au.

This is sevika mildly trying to give Viktor relationship advice. In her own way.

"He's… decent looking. Tan. Got some bulk. Tall. I could see it, I guess. Probably. If I squint.” Sevika tells him, which is crazy, because they sort of look alike. Viktor, however, isn't actually that eager for the embrace of death, and will not be telling her that.

Jayce, in the middle of the room, laughs at something someone said. The music is loud enough that Viktor does not have to worry about his lab partner overhearing their conversation, they're far enough for him to hear Sevika’s words without her having to raise her voice too much.

The corner table they're in is his favorite table in the place for that very reason. The sound reverberates off the top of the walls, sound waves bouncing back and forth. There's a speaker over their heads, facing the middle of the room. Its sound doesn't reach them with the same intensity, not if they both sit as close to the wall as possible. He can almost feel the thumping drums right over his head. Sevika appreciates being able to watched the rest of the room without having to worry about her back.

“You're insane.” He tells her, hand shaking slightly. Jayce picks up a shot from a passing waiter, skin glistening under the neon lights. He throws his head back with another cackle, shiny, almost canine teeth showing in a cocky smile. The stretch leaves his neck bare for everyone to witness, and witness they do. Viktor feels the lust that fills some of the faces in the crowd, feels the way some eyes linger far longer that they should.

The shot goes down smoothly, except for the one droplet that escapes his lips. It slides down from the corner of his mouth to his beard, where his partner finally wipes it away with the back of his hand in a quick motion. Jayce's hair is long enough to brush against his cheekbones, and Viktor feels like tugging on it for the rest of the night. Oh, what a glorious night it could be.

A pair of fingers snaps in front of his eyes. He frowns, angry at the interruption. “Staring makes you look pathetic. Makes me look pathetic, by association.”

“It’s not my fault you've no taste, woman.”

Sevika groans, rolling her eyes. Jayce is dancing with an unknown girl. She's got pink skin and cheeks that gets pinker every passing second. Jayce spins her around. She giggles the whole time, batting blue eyelashes at him.

“You're making your own life way more difficult than it needs to be, boy. Fucking women isn't this complicated.”

"You only say that because you pay for the women you fuck. The brothel will get you a special room, at this rate."

"I'm sure there's no woman that would touch you with a teen foot pole. Not for all the money in the world."

Jayce leans down. Pink Girl smiles, leaning in. Jayce, who is an idiot in anything that doesn't concern equations, fixes her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. He goes back to dancing. She follows.

“I don't get you. He's just another loud dog. You've been successfully bringing men like him around for years, and you're getting cold feet now? Don't give me that look. The walls are not that thick and you always get the vocal ones. Do whatever it is you do usually, flash him a nipple or something, and get it over with. Can't be that hard.”

Pink Girl is very clearly trying to be brave. Jayce is very clearly trying to fix her bra. It keeps slipping down.

“He's a piltie.” She continues, spitting the word with all the vitriol a person can manage while slightly inebriated. She glances over at the duo, narrowing her eyes. “And fucking clueless. Glenda right there is practically throwing herself at him. With that combo of attributes? I bet he's never even give his first kiss.”

“How do you know her name?”

“Well, how do you think, eh?” Sevika lifts up an eyebrow, faint smirk growing in her lips. Viktor decides that he's heard enough.

“Whatever. And he has kissed someone.”

“And how do you know that?”

Turns out, Sevika doesn't quite like it when one imitates her answers.

She gets up with a disgusted look on her already unwelcoming features, goes to Jayce and physically shoves him away, elbowing him in the ribs. Glenda seems to forget about Jayce's existence, and let's Sevika take her by the waist. They grind against each other for less than five minute before disappearing into one of the rented rooms.

Jayce, apparently, decides that it is an amazing moment to come over and talk. Viktor makes sure to remember that they do have a job to do. Work. Science. Together. They're coworkers. Colleagues. Co-creators. Partners in the lab.

Jayce's half-open shirt doesn't really help his cause.

.

“This is ridiculous.”

Sevika seems to think that this is Viktor's and hers crush on Jayce. When they met, Viktor never took her for the noisy type. Then he turned sixteen and she decided that he was ‘adult enough’ to complain to.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Greatest genius of Zaun. Can't even think of one decent comeback when the mutt is near. And you're telling me you two spend the whole day alone, in a laboratory, building weapons for our people to use? The very same weapons I have to trust my life to? Amazing.”

Offended, Viktor huffs, burying himself deeper onto the couch.

“Our inventions are absolutely flawless, I will have you know. You arm is one of them. Haven't had any complains, now, have you?”

“The color is ugly.”

He flips her off.

They're in Jinx's… room. Lair. Playground. Whatever this gigantic fan is for her. Jayce, Silco and the kid are having a Very Serious Tea Party. Viktor isn't quite sure what part of his contract covers for this as company time. He doesn't actually have a contract, but, still.

Jayce is wearing a bright-blue, hastily applied lipstick. He's got sloppily applied pink, glittery eyeshadow. His hair is up in the two most asymmetrical pigtails ever. It's long enough to do that, now.

He's crouched down, ass barely fitting into the chairs. He'll probably complain about back pain tomorrow. He chuckles lowly, covering his lips with his hand. The teacup is a miniscule thing on his hands. Calmly, he grabs a sugar cookie and bites in. Silco also got the kid real cookies and tea to play with. For some strange reason.

“- so just fuck him, get it out of your system. Trying to tame your dick will just leave you with a desperate dick and a lot of frustration. As soon as you stop denying it and actually- are you even fucking listening to me?”

Jinx must say something actually funny, for once, because Jayce's laugh reaches all the way to where Sevika and him are retreated, Viktor arguing for pain in his leg and Sevika offering oh so kindly to take care of him.

Jayce rarely actually laughs, these days. He's a great pretender, but Viktor is an even better skeptic. The dry chuckles and pretentious giggles don't sway him, neither do the over-the-top roars of noise he lets out in public. This time, the corners of his eyes shrink, his shoulders shake, his face lights up, he laughs. A million sparks are born and die on Viktor's chest. There's something even worse than butterflies gnawing at his heart. It's not lust. He wishes it was lust. It's a horrible, sickening thing. One that makes Viktor want to hear him do that for the rest of their lives. Oh, what a wonderful life that would be.

Sevika is glaring at him. He should look at her. Say something. Anything.

Whatever expression he's making must be tremendously obvious, because Sevika freezes, a slow, horrified look creeps in her face. There is, also, a smile. It would be funny, if that look didn't reflect Viktor's exact feelings on the matter.

“Oh. Oh. Ohhhh, fuck.” She says, very eloquently.

“Oh, fuck, indeed.” He answers back, suddenly feeling nauseous. "So, Glenda?"

"She's good at what she does. Don't change the topic. Oh, you're fucked. This is so funny. You're absolutely fucked. I know there's at least three boys out there being avenged with this whole situation."

He can't even disagree with her.

[k3nz1ekorn]

Jayvik actor au- first meeting

There’s a new show airing based on the popular video game League of Legends! Filming has just started and while it’s the first day on set, it’s also the first meeting of costars Joel and Vlad, set to play Jayce and Viktor. 

DIsclaimer: obviously I do not own the game League of Legends or any of the characters. Because this is an au some of them are going to be very out of character but this entire au is self indulgent for me so idrc. Hope you enjoy tho! also I have no idea how acting or set lots work and I have no intention of looking those specifics up for this, if that bothers you feel free to correct any inaccuracies in a comment!

Vlad was nervous to say the least. It wasn’t as if he was an inexperienced actor, just that this was a pretty big role for him. Big budget, some big names, a huge video game company, and he got to play one of the main male roles? Yeah no he definitely didn’t want to fuck this one up. He took a breath before opening the car door and stepping out onto the pavement, the frigid air surrounding him was a strong contrast to the heated car he’d just been in. He should definitely find his trailer fast, his knee did not like the cold. He slung his bag over his shoulder with ease and grabbed his cane out of the car with his opposite hand before shutting the door and starting down the path to the lot, 24B it was? Everything was busy, he noted, costumes and mechanical equipment moving around him this way and that. His head was almost on a constant swivel to make sure nobody was about to knock him off his feet, ducking and weaving here or there to make sure the stray props and cart wheels didn’t take him out. He was actually quit good at it all things considered.

“Coming through, heavy equipment!” He heard from his right, and it seemed as if he spoke a bit too soon. His efforts seemed to be in vain because as the cart had almost passed him, the wheel went over a rock and the boom mic jostled. Just enough in fact to blindside him with a bop right on the forehead. He stumbled backward for a second before a pair of very large hands were steadying him. He groaned lightly for a second before blinking a few times. A broad chest was in front of him when his eyes regained focus, squinting in confusion he looked to the hand on his arm, before following it up to find- Oh. Oh wow. 

“You alright there?” He was broken out of his very minor trance by the new voice, deep and gravely. He blinked a few more times before letting out a cough, taking a small step away, and responding.

“YES! Yes I’m fine, thank you for the concern though.” He gave a chuckle and a small smile as he finished readjusting his bag. He took a moment to look over this new person, and yes his initial observation was oh so correct. He was so very good looking. Vlad preferred his men a bit more rugged truth be told, usually a beard or longer hair, but all things considered this stranger was striking. He started to move to introduce himself when the man spoke again.

“Good, I’ll be on my way then. ‘Scuse me.” He gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and slipped past him. Vlad turned to watch him walk away for a moment before giving a small huff. Not even a name to put to a face, huh. With a shake of his head he carefully continued on.

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After arriving at his destination and getting settled into his trailer it was time to get down to business. Hair and makeup flew by in a breeze with the help of a quick coffee, and costumes had been fitted to perfection previously. He admitted he looked quite good in this one, the lace up sides of the vest did wonders for his already nice figure. With one more look in the mirror he gave himself a nod and picked up his script and cane before descending the custom ramp out of his trailer. Immediately he was met with his assistant, Skylar. She handed him his second coffee of the day and he adjusted so he was holding it in the same hand as his smaller copy of the script. They settled into a comfortable pace as they made their way towards the set. She went over a few key notes on the way there.

“So your first scene today is set in the aftermath of when the character Jayce’s apartment blew up, you’re almost grilling him on why, how, yada yada, asking questions, being snarky, etc. okay? Should be fairly easy for you. Your counterpart for this scene is Joel Torres, he’s already on set. He filmed a few other scenes already today so he’s already all warmed up and ready to jump into it.” She seemed almost anxious? Exasperated? It was hard to tell with her sometimes. “Other staff have said he’s a bit…cold? Just don’t take it personally if he doesn’t take to you immediately, is what I’m getting at, mmkay?” Vlad scoffed a bit at that. He never took it personally when people didn’t like him, if they were coworkers he did like to be cordial at least. It was just better for the production and flow of things that way. 

“That will not be a problem, I am a professional in the art of not speaking,” that definitely earned him a skeptical look, “and I’m caffeinated now, highly I might add, so whatever this Joel does or does not say is eh…water off the head? Is that the saying? It’s some kind of body part, yes?”

“Well yeah, but it’s-”

“Fantastic, onto the important issue, did you discuss what their potential relationship is building to with anyone on the production team? I know of my own interpretation, but this script it…leaves you guessing some, no?” He held up the papers before taking a sip of his overly sweet coffee and raising his eyebrow in question. She pulled her mouth into an almost grimace and sucked in through her teeth.

“So I did ask, and they said it was meant to end up brotherly almost? Like by the end of the season?” she shot him a sideways glance as she mirrored his movement to drink from her own cup. “If you’re able you can always talk to Mr. Torres and discuss how you both would want to portray the relationship.” Vlad gave a hum in response as they continued on their way. A bright head of pink hair came into view as they got closer. It was a shorter girl, probably one of the female leads? She was leaning on a table with a donut in one hand. In front of her stood a taller woman with deep blue hair, immediately he was able to recognize her as Cathrin Kristy. The shorter one caught his gaze and gave a small wave and a smile, with her mouth full of course. Cathrin turned with a raised eyebrow before giving a polite smile and a nod in acknowledgement. Vlad copied the move to both of them before turning his attention back to Skylar to finish their briefing. The set came into view and he stopped at the edge of it to give everything a brief once over. He turned side to side a bit to fully take it in and get used to his new surroundings before stopping dead in his tracks and giving a slight smirk to himself.

Well hello again handsome. Sitting just a few feet away was the same man he bumped into not even two hours ago, clad in the same ‘Academy uniform’ as the costume department had called it. This must be Joel then, the cold demeanor he’d encountered earlier certainly fit the description Skylar had been telling him about. “One moment Sky, I’ll be back.” He heard her make some kind of annoyed confused sound as he walked away, right up to his new coworker. He appeared to be reading over the script, they were about to film a new scene after all so it made sense. He takes a moment to fully look at him as he approaches. Even under the uniform he can make out thick muscles, beautiful tanned skin on his clean shaven face and oh those hands. His hair was slicked back, not perfect though, an artistically styled messy to give the illusion of disarray while keeping the clean cut illusion the character had. As he’s just a few feet away the other man glances up at him, he squints his eyes a bit as if in confusion before recognition settles in and he lifts his head to acknowledge him. Vlad opens his mouth to speak before he stops, he’s not too far in front of the other but at a comfortable distance for a couple of strangers. He doesn’t plan to be strangers for much longer though. “Well hello again, quite a surprise to see you here. It seems our paths have crossed once again. I admit I didn’t mind the first, but this one is definitely preferred. I’m Vladamir, you may call me Vlad though if you’d like.” He reaches out a hand in front of him. His counterpart takes a glance down at his hand with a raised brow before setting down his script. He looks back up at Vlad’s eyes before taking his hand to give it one firm shake. Dear gods he’s strong…and those eyes- his train of thought is cut short as the other finally speaks. 

“Joel. Just Joel.” He retracts his hand and places it in his lap to intertwine his fingers with the other one. There’s silence as they just stare for a moment, and he thinks he may imagine Joel taking the time to give Vlad a once over, he really hopes he isn’t blushing too hard. Vlad brings his hand back to his side and tilts his head with a light smirk, as he opens his mouth to speak again a bell rings. They both turn their heads as they hear the director call them to places. Vlad gives a light hum before he turns back to Joel once more.

“I believe they need us on set then, shall we?” he doesn’t wait for an answer as he turns and walks to his place. He definitely doesn’t imagine it when he hears a deep exhale and the shuffling of papers behind him before any footsteps follow. 

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“What happened here?” Vlad gets into character easily, this is a fun one for him after all. He turned and gave a wave of his hand, his cane clicking on the ground with ease, it helped that it was fitted to actually be the right height for him.

“Science I guess?” ‘Jayce’ says. This character is very different from him, he could tell as much from the script alone. The actress for Grayson says their line easily, moving out of the way for ‘Viktor’ to approach. He furrows his brows as he turns back to ‘Jayce’ and continues with his line.

“Nor was this approved by the Academy. Who authorized your research?” He says pointedly, he takes care to not kick any of the prop debris as he makes his way over to the other, acting as if he hasn’t had the last twenty minutes to look over the set before they started shooting.

“It was an independent study. Who are you anyway?” he shoots back accusingly as he looks up at him.  Vlad has to force down the immediate urge to look back into his eyes, scrutinizing the blackboard for a moment more.

“I’m assistant to the dean of the Academy, who it may serve you to remember is also the head of the council.” With that he finally looks at ‘Jayce’ again, they lock eyes for a brief second and it almost feels like he stopped breathing. Almost. He is a great actor after all. He breaks eye contact to look back at the board and it feels easy to breathe again, “He sent me here to ensure that anything dangerous is removed safely.” More glancing at the room, anything really to avoid looking into those eyes again. “Which, according to my list, includes you.”

“What!?” More eye contact, it’s brief this time thank the gods. “How am I dangerous?”

“Uh, that is for the council to decide.” He holds the focus of those beautiful golden eyes for barely another second before looking at ‘Grayson’ as she drops the handcuffs into view. ‘Jayce’ hangs his head in defeat and then the shrill bell signals the end of the scene and he glances back at Joel, who had quickly gotten up to listen to feedback from the director. They make eye contact again and Joel raises a thick brow at him. Vlad quickly turns away to hide his blush and busies himself with going over his lines for the scene again with Skylar, making little notes for himself for the next take. This is going to be a long show for sure.

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A Bonus for this one:

When Joel gets back to his trailer for lunch he sits at the booth and lets a long sigh overtake him before he throws his head against the back of his seat. His hand covers his eyes before he pinches the bridge of his nose. All he can picture are those beautiful eyes looking back at him in nearly every scene he shot today. Letting his head drop forward again he removes his hand and glances down at the script. Nearly every scene with him huh? He lets out a defeated chuckle, yep. He’s fucked.

Author’s notes: Wow so I whipped this out in about 5 hours with leftover Christmas mimosa supplies. Literally can’t wait to add Mel in. Don’t know when but I will because I love her so much.

[piwo-zero]

can't believe that ive literally written fanfiction about jayvik with references to philosophy in it but my biggest contribution to this fucking fandom is a post about jinx sending a meme about the knee surgery

anyway im writing the next chapter (finally) i need a beta reader... mainly for a grammar check (i'm not a native speaker). anyone?

[witchofwickedstuff]

Looking for a beta reader!

Hey there! I'm currently writing two JayVik fanfictions and I desperately need someone to beta read them. One is a College AU (one giant single-chapter stor), the other is Criminal Mastermind Viktor/Mercenary Jayce (multiple chapters).

Shoot a text or a reply if you're interested in either.

[theegravediggress]

hello jayvik nation :3

i would like to humbly offer this fic im working on! any and all criticism is appreciated, or any ideas!

[kanskje-kaffe]

There were no pretenses between them. Singed had never been anything other than what he was, and Viktor never had cause to mistrust him. Not now. There was a scientific intimacy between them; facts and hypotheses were the only modes of communication. No lies.  “Is it possible to take back death?” asked Viktor.  In the corner, he saw Warwick’s monstrous head lift, an ear cocked his way. He crawled a sleepy path to the table, placing his head on the flat space beside Viktor’s knee. Viktor rested an absentminded hand on his snout. 

Run It Back Again by @withercrown on AO3

[ravenaohridska]

One thing that neither the market nor traditional writers understood when they tried to co-opt the universe of fanfics:

Tags work in fandoms because we already know and care about the characters.

But what does it have to do with me if your princess is enemies to lovers to who the fuck it is?!

✨I DON'T CARE✨

Worse still, they never put up any cool ones like Dead Dove or NO BETAS we die like Viktor Talis!

Basic boring shit

[aimfor-theheart]

to break first

|| mel medarda x reader, jayce talis x reader, viktor x reader || E/18+ || messy dynamics/hurt/comfort || wc: 6k || ao3 ||

minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+

Your lovers are strange, demanding types.

a/n: idk man. but this revived my writing so. pls take it. dividers by @/cafekitsune

tags: messy dynamics, light smut/smut mentioned and implied, implied rough/hate sex, some hurt/comfort, ends on a hopeful note. not beta read/edited.

You've never liked Jayce much.

And you might just be the only person he doesn't like, either.

He plays nice, though, especially around Viktor. You think Jayce has teeth that he tries to hide, but you catch the flash of them from time to time. He smiles at you and it doesn't reach his eyes. It's just shy of contempt.

It makes your grin cheshire and sharp. You like watching him squirm. You like watching him wrestle with his distaste for you, try to keep his teeth hidden. Especially here, at this gala, all gold and sparkling and pristine, for all the world to see.

Bubbling rosé is bright and fruity on your tongue. You're shoulder to shoulder with Viktor, the two of you half-miserable together, stuffed into formal wear and ripped from your respective labs and studios. Which is why Jayce lingers; he's hovering in that annoying way of his. Bumbling a little. He's trying to make Viktor feel more at home but—

You have something Jayce doesn't.

Only you can do that.

You're Viktor's childhood friend, thick as thieves and twice as inseparable. You're an artist from the Undercity—a painter, a poet, a musician. An artistic genius, the world claims, an artistic savant. And one of the rare, lucky few who has been exalted and raised above your station to be paraded around Piltover like some trophy of success from their lowest. It's mostly Viktor's fault, you claim—the moment Heimerdinger found him, he also accidentally found you.

"Ah, if it isn't one of the most brilliant and groundbreaking artists of our generation." A smooth, easy voice floats through your thoughts. You turn your head to find Councilor Medarda, swathed in what could be a starry sky of silk and gold.

She's even more beautiful in person somehow; if you were to paint her, she'd be all easy, graceful lines, curved and long. A lily stem. The arch of a tiger.

"Just the person I was looking for." She muses.

"Me?" You balk, at the same time that Jayce gaps, "Them?!"

You swing your gaze to glare at him and even Viktor wrinkles his nose. Jayce tries to clear his throat, clear the mistake.

Councilor Medarda raises a brow at Jayce, but then her eyes flicker to you, honing in on you. Hazel and gold and reflective; a kaleidoscope of color. And with such—intensity. You feel it in her. Thrumming. "Yes, you." She says smoothly and she smiles in the elegant way of royalty; perfect and mysterious.

"Are you sure you have the right person, Councilor Medarda?" You joke, "you know I'm just—"

"I'm certain. And please—call me Mel. I'd love to commission you for several art pieces to be displayed in the council chambers."

Viktor whistles a little, impressed, though you can tell it's a little dry.

(He both rambles and rants about Councilor Medarda from time to time and you can never tell if he adores her or resents her.)

Jayce startles at this, but again, he tries to play it off. He places his hand on her lower back, "I didn't know the council chambers was looking to display art."

Mel allows his hand to remain, but she tilts her chin up and her eyes flash somewhat—quick, sharp. There's a silent conversation there that you can't decipher.

But you can tell there is something more than just coworkers happening between them.

"I'm looking to display art in the council chambers." Mel then says.

Jayce looks away, cowed somewhat, tail tucked between his legs in a way that makes you smile.

Mel drifts from Jayce's hands, offering her arm to you, "will you walk with me? I'd love to discuss what I have in mind."

If only to steal her away from Jayce, you finally peel yourself away from Viktor's side and the wall. Your shoulder, where it was touching his, goes cold. But Mel's arm is warm as you twine it around yours.

She draws you away from the scientists, into the fray of swirling, dazzling people.

You glance over your shoulder only once and catch Jayce's eyes, and let your smile curl into something a little smug, almost vicious; baring your teeth as if to gloat at his own, still tucked behind his lips.

***

"Mel's an artist." You say to Viktor, offhand. "A good one, too. You should see her paintings—"

Viktor sighs heavily, snatching one of the little tools that you'd been fiddling with out of your hands. "You sound like Jayce."

You wrinkle your face in disgust, reaching back for the tool and grappling with him a moment for it. You press all against each other, squabbling, before you win out and take it back from him. He stares at you, almost in some form of a glare and you stare back, watching his eyes, dark in the low light of the lab. He glances at the tool in your hands like he might try to take it back, and when he moves, you move faster, and hold it out of his reach.

"Are they together?" You ask.

He gives up on the tool.

Then, he lifts his shoulders in some form of a crooked shrug, eyes going skyward. "One can only assume."

"She's out of his league." You sigh, throwing your weight back in the chair in despair.

Viktor snorts at that, returning to his work, "I'm sure few are in league with Councilor Medarda."

His voice is dry. A little brittle.

"I don't know what you have against her." You then venture, speaking more to the ceiling, returning to fiddling with the tool. It twists in your fingers, the sound of metal whirling and softly grinding.

"I have nothing against Councilor Medarda." He says too evenly.

"You know, I've never been able to tell if it's contempt or adoration you have for her." You continue, as if he hadn't said anything to contradict you. "But either way, she gets under your skin."

"She does not—"

"Are you jealous? She took your big, dumb partner away?" You press, twisting and twisting away at the tool.

"No—" Viktor says sharply, but it rings with a note of truth. It's not quite that then.

You pause. And then.

You crack your eye open, "I think she likes me."

Viktor pauses now too, metal clinking quietly with the sudden stop of his work again. He knows that tone of your voice. His face pulls; distaste. Frustration.

(Jealousy.)

His speech is slow as he tries to parse through what to say, "Councilor Medarda is charming and—"

"She invited me to dinner." You say and now you're watching him carefully, "at her personal suite. Just us."

Viktor rounds on you, "you're going to get yourself into trouble."

You can't help but smile, slow and amused, "I feel like it's good for the art—fool around with a politician—"

"You know, I have always wondered if you would learn your lesson," Viktor continues over your monologuing about drama and passion and politics, "—maybe this time, you'll finally learn it."

He snatches the tool from your hands and throws it down on his desk.

"I love learning." You chirp innocently and he shakes his head, face flushed with passion.

He looks at you again when he can, shakes his head some more, some of the irritation fading from his features. He never stays mad at you for long; doesn't have it in him. Besides, he causes his own trouble. Doesn't learn his own lessons. And when the dust settles, the two of you are still here, beside each other. The artist and the scientist, making messes, breaking things—all for some higher purpose only the two of you have ever understood.

(You've loved him your whole life. Sometimes, you think you carry half of the other's ribs inside one another. He must have twelve of yours, and you must have twelve of his—)

You lift your foot, nudging his calf beneath the desk with it, then up to place it in his lap. An olive branch, of some kind. Your affection is unsurprising to him and he sighs. He drops his hand to your ankle. He squeezes.

"She's going to eat you alive." Viktor finally warns.

"One can only hope."

A laugh startles out of him, rough and raspy, before it dissolves into coughing.

You lurch up to give him water, sitting near you, and bring the glass to his lips on reflex, like you used to as children. And on reflex, he drinks—he doesn't try to take the glass from your hands right away or push you away. Instinctively, you care for him, and instinctively, he lets you.

(You think you're the only one he'd ever allow to do this, born out of years of pressed side to side in the same bed, listening to him weather the nights. Born out of years of your love and stubborn care for him.)

After a moment, he lifts his hand and slowly replaces yours.

You hover over him. He sets the glass down. The water is almost gone. You'll replace it for him before you leave the lab.

He settles back into his chair, eyes returning to the pieces in front of him; all the odd metal scattered like little silver stars in front of him against a vast, dark sky. He picks up one, and then another, and tries to fit them together.

Then another. And another.

You watch him twist and turn, put the puzzle together.

He says, "Lately, I feel as if—" his fingers are careful, almost shaking, as he tries to create something of the scattered, broken pieces, "everything is quite fragile. And it's all just going to—" he presses a little too hard, and the metal all splinters apart, clattering back to the desk, "break. At any given moment."

After a moment, he looks up at you, still hovering over him, "I fear you're heading towards a breaking point."

You hum a little.

"What is it you scientists say?" You ask, running your fingers through his dark hair, thick and tousled. You twirl a strand around your finger, let it fall;

"It has to break first, before you can discover anything."

***

You'd say Mel Medarda is a wolf in sheep's clothing, but she doesn't feign anything so harmless or lost as a sheep.

You do think she's—

A little like Jayce, where she hides her teeth. But where Jayce irritates you because he's certainly trying to seem better than he is, or more harmless than he can be, Mel does so with intention. Mel hides her teeth to lure you closer. She doesn't pretend she doesn't have them; she waits until you're in range before you catch a glimpse of them.

And by then, well. It's too late.

You realize this over dinner, as she laments about what art she'd like from you and she's adamant about not censoring you.

(You're known for you controversy; whether in your physical art, your poetry, or music. Once pulled to the light of the Upper City, you refused to let them defang you. Where Jayce pretends he doesn't have teeth, you bare yours proudly, and sometimes wish you could tear the tender parts of Piltover open.

You strive to do it with your art. And while applauded in some vague capacity, you are also kept on a tight leash. Your patrons are warily supportive of you. Your commissions are strict. You're treated the way you think a wild animal is; with utmost care and fear and awe.)

In fact, her only rule for you, is to not hold back.

Which, given the growing tension between the Upper and Lower Cities, you realize this cannot only be from the goodness of her heart or for the integrity of art but—

You tilt your head and consider her.

"Am I a political move, Mel?"

She smiles in that enigmatic way of hers, her teeth flash, "isn't all art?"

You narrow your eyes, "perhaps. I wonder of it's effectiveness when it's employed by the people it often critiques." You lift your chin and pretend to be hurt—or perhaps, mask your hurt within dramatics to make it seem ironic, "and here I thought you really liked me—"

"I do." Mel assures, "I've admired you a great deal from afar. And getting to know you, your mind, it's—" she considers her words, "it's been nothing short of mesmerizing. Astonishing."

She sounds sincere. But you wonder if she always sounds that way.

She can tell she hasn't convinced you because you've never been able to mask your emotions well, so she leans forward and says, "unfortunately, everything I do is a political move, whether I'd like it to be or not. Both can be true—" she says, "I can adore you. And I can also need you to make a public point, wield you like my own elegant weapon."

"Artists make for disobedient weapons, usually." You say.

She laughs a little at that and agrees, "True." And then she lowers her voice, looks at you through the fan of her dark lashes in such a way that seizes you—arrests you, holds you right there, caught, in her heady gaze;

"But I don't need you to be obedient."

"I can never tell if you're trying to seduce me or persuade me." You blurt out, the words running from your mouth like a rabbit from a wolf. Your desire bursts from you like frightened birds taking to flight, like most of what you feel does, all of it spilling out of you in a gush of rawness.

She stands gracefully and again, you think of how you'd draw her—how you'd capture her in a poem or a song. The sharp curve of her waist, the predatory grace she carries effortlessly. You think her song is a croon from the deep part of your chest. You think her poem looks like an hourglass on the page and she slips from your fingers as easy as time does, too.

She rounds the small table to your side.

You look up at her. Your heart kicks up into a quick dance.

She brings the back of her knuckle to your jaw and gently—with all the carefulness in the world, strokes you.

(She touches you the way one does a bird, as if they know it's fragile. Perhaps as if they know it might fly away.

Or maybe she touches you the way one does an animal they're not sure of; will you bite? Will you lean into the touch?)

"Both can be true." She finally answers.

When she kisses you, it's fiercer than you're expecting; a lightning strike, a blow to the heart.

Your teeth come up against hers.

She gasps when you drag her further down to you, greedier than she's ever known, meeting her fierceness with your own, like the clashing of blades, or the destruction of stars.

And you think, if you don't want obedience, then I'll show you.

I'll show you.

***

"What are you playing at?"

Jayce's voice is a vicious little hush in the caverns of the council chambers. Mel has just left you after peaking over your shoulder to view the preliminary sketches.

You lift your head and blink up at Jayce slowly, dragging yourself from your sketch; from your world of art.

(It sets his teeth to grinding because Viktor makes that same look, when he's so deep into his work and Jayce disturbs him. It's a face he finds endearing on both of you, unfortunately. He imagines your minds are in heaven and he's selfish enough to drag you both back down to earth.)

"What do you mean? For the art piece?" You ask, glancing down at your lap, at the series of gestures and lines that you've been lost in. Maybe you're feigning innocence a little. But you want him to say it, if he's going to pick this fight.

Jayce's eyes flash like the too-hot part of the flame.

You have to bite back a smile.

Come on, you think wildly, say it. Let's fight. Here in the chambers, where you try so hard to be their golden boy.

"What are you trying to get out of Mel?" He asks and it makes you laugh outright, because he's dancing around what he really wants to ask.

Your laugh echoes in the hall, bouncing off all this marble and gold. It's out of place here, too loud, too free.

"The better question is what she's trying to get out of me." You say, "do you think I have it in me to manipulate the Mel Medarda?"

He goes quiet at that.

"Are you doing this to get back at me?" He asks after a moment and it's so close to what he wants to ask, so close to what he really wants to talk about.

"She kissed me first." You answer. "Have you had this conversation with her?"

You can tell by the shadow of uncertainty that passes over his face that he hasn't. You stand, easily setting your sketches and pencils aside, and drift nearer to him.

"Oh," you hum, "you didn't know. She didn't mention some plan of seduction to you? Maybe she really does like me."

He rounds on you so sharply that you are genuinely surprised. You gasp when your back hits the wall and he's got you caged in, a snarl on his lips and you finally get to see those teeth of his—

"You just always have to push me, don't you? In all the years I've known you, you've only ever tried to get under my skin. I tried so hard, for so long, for Viktor's sake to get along with you." He says lowly and distantly, you think, does he cage in Mel like this? With his big arms and broad chest? Or does she have him on a tight leash, underneath her?

"This time, I didn't mean it. Surely, you understand—" you say slyly, "when she comes onto you like that, all honey-voiced and half-lidded. She's hard to resist, isn't she?"

The grip he has on your biceps tightens to a point of pain—he'll bruise you. You'll be tender there, where his big hands gripped you, and it only makes you smile.

"Stop it." He snaps.

But you can't help yourself now, because once you've got something between your teeth, you've never been able to let it go;

"I just want to know if she kisses me the same way she kisses you? Does she play nice with you? She's quite fierce with me—"

When Jayce kisses you, it's a crush of aggression.

You laugh into his mouth wildly as he shoves you harder against the wall, teeth mean in the tender part of your bottom lip so that your laughter melts into a groan of pain. Of pleasure.

You claw at his back and wonder if Mel does, too.

You fight and hiss and snarl, show him your teeth when he sinks his into the fluttering pulse at your throat. You try to draw blood. You think he tries to bruise.

And well, you always wanted to see his teeth—

Just never thought you'd end up with a ring of their mark on your neck.

***

You're not really sleeping—nights are long. Days are longer. You're in the studio too much. This art piece is strangling you, wrestling with you and you're losing. Your lovers are strange, demanding types. Jayce comes to you at his lowest, and Mel at her highest. She licks the wounds Jayce leaves on you, purrs about how good you're being for her, goads you into putting up more of a fight that she likes to quell. She asks, have I stolen your bite? Are you going soft on me? Until you try to wrestle with her, too.

Mel subdues you the way snakes do—constricts and tightens and puts all that pressure on you until you just burst.

Until you go slack in her grip.

Jayce takes his anger out on you and he's not so cunning or delicate as her. You think Jayce struggles with you the way he must with his hammers, with high heat and all his strength.

Your art is starting to look like pieces of them; brutal and brilliant and cunning and beautiful. Tricky to capture, even more difficult to mesh together.

You're covered in paint when Viktor comes to visit you, frustrated with the canvas in front of you, which you think you'll end up scrapping again.

(This is the fourth one. You've been trying to fit all the components and pieces together but none of it's working, all of it's a mess. Splintered apart on the canvas. It looks like a disaster on the page.)

"Have you eaten?" Viktor asks as he comes to stand behind you. He gazes at the canvas n front of you.

You sigh heavily. "Have you?" You return.

He snorts at that, "No. I'm coming from the lab and thought I'd check on you—Mel mentioned you were here."

He pauses and then, "that you'd been here. For awhile now."

You hear the layers in his voice; the worry, but then the—

Irritation? Disdain?

"Are you asking me to dinner?" You say instead, dashing the canvas with a sudden great, horrible X. It's your meager attempt at some sort of joke or flirting, but your voice is perhaps too thin for it. You stare at your canvas, now dripping with that great X, the paint slipping down and marring it further.

When you turn to look at Viktor, he regards you warily. He glances at the canvas you've just ruined, and then back to your face.

He takes in your appearance; your disheveled hair and the paint all over your clothes and skin. And then his eyes skip down to your throat, to your arms. All marked up and bruised, unhidden and worn proudly here, in the safety of your art studio.

"Should I be concerned?" Viktor asks instead and you've always loved his bluntness. His lack of tact is like coming home. It's a relief, when you're constantly with Mel and Jayce lately, who talk in riddles and niceties and flowered language that hides their intentions or feelings.

There is a bitterness in Viktor's voice that you know well, too.

"About?" You prod.

"I'm no fool." Viktor answers, "I know you're sleeping with Councilor Medarda."

"Is that all you know?" You return, tilting your head.

"Is there more to know?" Viktor asks, eyeing you.

"Jayce hasn't said anything?"

You watch a strange shadow pass over Viktor's face as he slowly comes to the natural conclusion that you've lead him to. He's right, he is no fool. And then you watch his eyes catch fire, catch jealousy.

"I warned you—" he starts, suddenly.

"And I told you, it's good for the art—" You joke.

"Obviously it isn't!" He snaps, gesturing to the canvas behind you, ruined and glaring at your back. And then he heaves out a rough, agitated breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "Do you ever think of consequences?" He demands.

"Sure," You say, "I'm exactly where I want to be."

"You know, they are my colleagues. What am I supposed to do if—?!"

You laugh at that, enough that it startles him out of his beginning tirade. He comes up short and his shoulders bunch with tension as he glares at you.

"Is something funny?" He hisses.

"Your colleagues?" You repeat, "that's all they are to you?"

"Well—yes, technically." He stumbles on his words here.

"Are you jealous, Viktor?" You ask. "You don't have to be."

"I'm not jealous—" He refutes, even as his cheeks grow ruddy. And for a moment, you could be twelve with him again, his face flush as he looks at you after you'd kissed him for the first time because he'd never kissed anyone before. Or twenty-two and drunk, kissing one night under the stars when you felt so lost and disorientated in the Upper City—just wanted to feel like yourself again.

Or now, at thirty-two, staring at the man you've loved your entire life and whatever mess you've made out of everything.

You reach out and touch his cheek, glowing with color, and at first he winces away, but when you persist, he relaxes. He presses his cheek to your open palm and looks at you; raw and frank and so Viktor that you can't help the faint smile that touches your lips. Even as he frowns at you.

"What are you meddling with?" Viktor murmurs, turning his face into your cupped hand. You feel the faint brush of his lips, a little dry, and soft. Warm.

"Apparently our political landscape." You respond and that at least gets a laugh from him. You feel it against you and some spark shimmers through you, shudders and opens itself to you.

(Your desire for Viktor is something always with you, ambient, perhaps dormant, that always resurfaces like the great fins of some horrible, huge monster in dark waters. Your desire for Viktor is a symptom of your love. You've never know what to call it except that, except his.)

"Have I upset you?" You ask now as his laughter fades, and with it his amusement.

He sighs deeply and you feel his breath against your skin. You draw nearer. He leans back onto his crutch only slightly, only for a moment, before he allows you further into his space.

"I don't—" He struggles for the words before admitting, "yes, somewhat. For some reason."

"Are you feeling neglected?" You ask and try very hard to keep your amusement out of your voice, lest you irritate him further. He's always had a jealous streak in him, even as kids. If you made another friend, he would pout until you draped yourself over him and showered him in your attention again.

Even your previous relationships had bred some sort of jealousy in him; he's never liked any of your partners.

(It's so endearing to you that you have to tuck your teeth into your own lip and hum a little.)

You lean towards him, ducking your head so that your nose dips to brush against the line of his jaw. You feel his body shudder more than you see it. His breath goes tight. Your eyes flicker, a flash in the sun-spun light of your art studio;

"Do you want me to kiss you the way Jayce kisses me?" You murmur, your lips hovering over his. You watch his face gutter, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. His breath goes shallow.

"Or would you prefer Mel?" You murmur, just before you close the distance and kiss him with a certain fierceness, a meanness that you don't usually have with him. He stumbles back a little with the force of it and your hand that had been holding his cheek, slips into the hair at the nape of his neck.

A groan startles out of him when you tighten your hand into a fist and pull.

You part from the kiss, panting a little, and he looks down at you, eyes molten gold and burning.

You're about to kiss him again, when he murmurs, "I want—" he swallows hard, "I want you to kiss me the way you do—I want—"

You press back into him instantly, suddenly overwhelmed with the thought, with the notion that his desire, his jealousy—

You kiss him like you always have, overeager and desperate and messy. You urge him backwards, towards your workbench, all cluttered with paints. His crutch clatters against the ground uselessly as you grab for each other. You knock over a jar of brushes half-haphazardly placed on the floor.

You're overwhelmed with the thought that his jealousy might've been for you, too.

When he braces his hand against your work bench, he knocks over a cup of paint. You laugh into his mouth as you paw at his stupid, perfectly buttoned vest. When he touches you again, he stains you blue—and later red and violet. Burnished gold and paint so silver it makes the stars look dull.

A mess, he tsks, impossibly fond, as he looks at you and himself and the work space.

At all that you'd done.

***

"You've been pulling strings," Mel says as you lay in her lap, letting her pet and stroke you. Her fingers dance over the ridge of your brow.

You blink up at her slowly, eyes fluttering. "Shouldn't that be my line?" You ask.

"I'm not naive to the way you've been pulling our strings." She muses, fingers tumbling into your hair. She's gentle here, careful as she cards her way through your hair, her fingers nimble.

"Pulling strings is a far too sophisticated thing to call it." You snort and lean into her touch like a cat, preening a little.

"What would you call it?" Mel asks and the smile she wears is less of a mystery to you now, and you can tell there's a fondness to it.

(She does really like you—she is really being sincere, you've learned.)

You think about this for a long moment; you toy with saying a fucking mess. Or digging my own grave. But neither feel quite so full—while true, in many ways, there leaves little room for—

Well, this.

The way she holds you. The cat's curl of her smile, pleased and mischievous. Her fingers, gentle and coaxing, urging you to unfurl and bloom.

Or Viktor's rasping laugh that you can pull out of him. The fondness you hold for him like a pearl held inside a clam, growing and glowing. The way you drape yourself all over him, and he accepts it as easy as the day accepts the sun, or the night accepts the moon into its skies.

And even Jayce and the strangled back-and-forth that the two of you dance; it's still yours. It's still his. And the way he cups your cheek admist the violence or how he let's no one speak ill of you in front of him.

(Or the way Jayce and Viktor's minds work together, or how tactical Jayce and Mel can be; sharpened like daggers and twice as pretty. Or the creativity you pull out of Mel, allowing her to see the world like a boundless piece of art. Or the way Viktor's science influences your art; how your art influences his science. The fierceness you bring out in Jayce—the passion he brings out in you.)

It doesn't quite account for all the parts that make you burn and grow and shake out your great, big wings to fly.

Finally, you say, "it feels like I'm trying to find the melodies and harmonies and how they mesh—or the composition of a painting, or the feeling of a poem, but some of the words are still missing. It feels like when I chase art and try to break it open, to reveal what it wants me to learn—or show me."

"Have you figured it out yet?" She asks and she's genuinely curious, almost quiet in her desire to know.

At that, the door creaks open and there are several hushed whispers before Jayce suddenly strides into the room with all the false confidence in the world. Viktor looks sheepish behind him.

You sit up sharply, trying to detangle yourself from Mel.

"I told you they were here—" Viktor hisses to him, "and we shouldn't—we shouldn't be here."

Jayce isn't listening, though, and he's clearly inflating himself to get out, "I've come on important business of the council."

Mel raises her brows and throws you a sideways glance. She then says, "then come in, Councilor, since it's so important that you've come to my personal quarters. Unannounced."

Jayce at least has the good sense to look a little sheepish now, too. You can't help the laugh that springs out of you.

He throws you a dark look before clearing his throat.

"Councilor Haskel and Salo are seeking to strike down the art deal." Jayce announces and your heart drops a little, sinks in your chest.

You look at Mel. She purposefully keeps her face a mask of coolness. She rolls her shoulder briefly, which is your only tell of irritation or concern.

"Come in, Jayce." Mel finally says, "and you, too, Viktor. Shut the door behind you."

Both wander into the space and it's such a surreal moment, all four of you, for once, in the same room, that you can't help but laugh again.

Mel sighs in a way as if to say, I suppose this would happen eventually.

Jayce and Viktor can't quite look anyone in the eye and they both take uneasy seats int he living room.

Again, you feel like laughing—you're not sure what all the trepidation is for. Each of them have you seen you naked; you have seen them naked.

"What's their angle?" Mel asks, ignoring both Jayce and Viktor's shyness.

Jayce clears his throat, "they don't think it's worthwhile to support an artist from the Undercity at this time."

You wince and Jayce adds, "their words, not mine."

"Well, that won't do." Mel tsks and she suddenly moves to stand, graceful as ever, her robes trailing in a wave of silk and the smell of lillies. She likes to pace when she's thinking, and she pads over the window, to look out at the city.

Eventually, she says, "we'll need a grander plan. Something they can't refuse."

"What are you thinking?" Jayce asks.

She turns and all around her, she's doused in gold light, glowing in the evening sun as if she was born to it. "Perhaps combining some science with it." Now she looks at Viktor, "something symbolic to the current advancements with Hextech, perhaps."

Viktor looks at you, then back at Mel, "I can do that."

"Jayce, I need you to talk to the other Councilors and be sure they're not swayed by Haskel or Salo." She then adds, "and I want more publicity around it—and around our artist and scientist."

Our artist.

Our scientist.

"Ah—" Viktor starts, "I don't want to be in the public eye."

Our, our, our.

"It'll put pressure on Haskel and Salo if the people are behind you both, too." Mel presses gently, though her gaze has softened on him; she's sympathetic to his desires.

To assure him, you chirp, "I can do all the talking."

"Not sure that's our best idea." Jayce remarks.

"I am certain I can name several worse ideas of ours." You quip without thinking, and then you toss one of Mel's throw pillows at him; the beautifully embroidered one that's likely far too expensive and made from the rarest threads.

It hits him with a dull thud. And for a moment, he's shocked. The room is silent.

Still, your heart sings our, our, our.

But then Viktor snorts, before breaking out into his low, soft chuckle. And then the twinkle of Mel's giggles, coupled with your own laughter that bursts from your chest like a bird taking to flight.

And Jayce watches a moment, all of you laugh and smile, and if you could paint him in this moment, you would—

A little awe-struck. Tender around the edges, burnished gold. Breath stolen from him.

(Oh, he does really like you, too. All of you.)

But then laughter rumbles from him, too. And the tension slips from all of you, drains from your bodies with each bubbling sound.

And all of them together—finally together—are the melody you've been looking for, the words you couldn't place. The color on the canvas that finally brings it all together.

It's all the broken pieces like a mosaic, finally put together to create something whole.

And it's all ours, you think, the sun a flare of light and beauty bursting through the room, bathing all of your favorite people in it's gold and glory;

It's all ours.

[theactofknowing]

take a shot for me

You and Jayce Talis are friends — good friends, even — and it’s no surprise for the two of you to be found drinking. You’re young, free from the shackles of true responsibility, and the bar is the perfect place to go.

What does surprise you, however it came to be, is what falls into your hands when you invite him into your apartment after a night out.

tags: smut, mutual pining, AU!modern setting but it’s not explicitly stated, sub!jayce, WHO SAID THAT(!!!), loss of virginity because HELLO JAYCE ARCANE. NOT beta read. forgive me

wc: 4.5k

Golden eyes — happy sun-yellow, warm and bubbling companionably with tipsy indulgence — meet yours.

Your gaze falters for a moment as you take him in; the unsteady lean against the bar which he tries to play off as a suave stance, the slight shine on his lips from his drink.

“You’re such a lightweight,” Jayce says, small smile curling his lips — which are only slightly asymmetrical, you’ve stared at them often enough to recognize it.

The recognition you have has been built over the past months. Two academy students; oriented together in the same lectures seats apart, till the courses increased and the distance dimmed, sat side-by-side.

Your connection had grown in the class setting, though it thrived outside of it— blooming like a flower exposed to the sun. Conversations started with work, class, then shifted into something more boisterous, entertaining, to nights in the bar more than was healthy.

“Bull,” you retort, making move to stand from your chair. You’d meant to leave ages ago, when you saw how depressing the bar life had been. It was a weekday, and you and Jayce were mixed along with divorced singles and depressed fathers. Jayce’s company, however, kept you idle.

He’s kind enough to not mention your slight sway when you rise from your seat. You pull your coat on, closing it under your chin, and he does the same.

“Take me home,” you say, joke lacing your tone, and he complies. He holds his arm out for you to grasp onto, which you gratefully take as he leads the two of you into the chilly night.

“Do we have a drinking problem?” You ask, recalling your frequency at the bar. You pull yourself closer to his side, leeching the warm heat that emulated from him as easy as breathing.

The night streets are dimmed, shrouding the intricate architecture and well-loved streets from your eyes. It meant little, not when the both of you knew the way like muscle memory. Your feet carry you easily, shuffling softly against the streets.

In the dark, you can’t see his features when he turns to look at you, making his voice more clear in the position. “Maybe you do,” he says, and you know he has a smug look on his face, one eyebrow raised — the right one, with the knick in it. Part of you wishes to see it.

You scoff, playfully swatting his padded arm as you accuse him of being beside you all those drunken nights. Youthful laughter echoes through the street, quieting down as you turn once, twice onto your street.

He departs from you, keeping an eye as you reach your apartment door. You stand there silently for a moment, contemplating, then turn towards him. You know you must look odd, fondling the doorknob and standing still like you don’t know how to open your door.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, surprising yourself with the question as you do. You aren’t sure what your intentions are; helping a friend get out of the climate, or help him take his pants off. Either would be fine.

Fortunately the weather has long turned cold, winter swirling around the corner, and the wind is the perfect explanation for the heat in your cheeks — just nipped numb and warm from the weather, nothing more.

His brows raise in surprise, like he isn’t sure either of your intent either. “Yeah, yes.”He nods quickly, taking a moment to bury his face in his coat as you turn away.

Your home is dark, quiet, with midnight-moon light painting a cool glow over the belongings within. Flicking on one light, a lamp near the couch, you move with a one-track mind.

Shucking off your coat, then hobbling over to rip your shoes off, which Jayce laughs at when you stumble, though he denies this. You ask yourself why you invited him in as you move about, though you aren’t opposed to the idea — you enjoy his company, his refreshing intelligence, the kindness he possessed to do good and share it.

You plop yourself on the couch, your lack of full sobriety existing as a slight tingle behind your eyes, giving you the kick you need. “Come hither,” you joke, motioning with your finger as you rest your head against one cushion.

Jayce has been in your home often enough to recognize where his belongings go, how you want him to kick his shoes off at the door, before moving to join you. He laughs quietly and sits down next to you, eyes swimming with subdued mirth.

It’s comfortable, sitting together and letting companionable silence come and go like the wind. Easy conversation flows between you, speaking on projects and things processed in the academy, papers to be done and stamped.

Eventually, your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background, a warm sound that reminds you of blankets and drinks together, although it means little in the moment.

Openly, you watch his lips. You wonder if they’re soft, if you can taste the drink on his breath and lick the remnants from his mouth. Typically you’d reel these thoughts in, slap a big shame sticker atop them, though you have little care in your happy state.

You begin to scoot closer, inch by inch. Jayce doesn’t notice till he does, eyebrows silently furrowed as he tries to deduce if you’ve moved closer, or if he’s had too much to drink.

You’re not quite sure what your plan is, what your means are. Distracted by the premise of your feelings, Jayce could ask you if you were an idiot, and in your otherworldly state you’d probably say yeah, sure, without processing the question.

One inch, then another, and you’re sat beside him. You can feel his legs shift beside you, always having to move, to fidget. He’s long been quiet, watching you with open curiosity and, perhaps wariness, as you gaze upon him.

Your head comes to rest upon his shoulders, and you know the angle looks good on you — coy smile pulling at your lips, long lashes fluttering around your open, speaking eyes — and he stares at you in surprise.

Slipping slowly, your hand trails up his bicep — you’re unsure what your plan is, but it feels good to exist here, here in the moment, and maybe your past self was wrong for withholding you — and settles on the curve of his chest.

There’s a clear shift in the means of his visit by now, and he’s caught on. He’s watching, waiting expectantly, seeing if this is a prank or something more, something real and curling around his heart.

Yellow eyes turned sunset-sky dark, overshadowed by the slight of his dilated pupils, watch you. There’s a question lingering in his open eyes, one of uncertainty and for the knowledge of more.

“Jayce,” you sigh, unable to articulate your want and your certainty through nothing more than a whisper. Your hands are at his chest — not quite pawing at the softness like you’d like — fingers drawing impatient lines.

A breath, two, then you will yourself to move in. You feel air pass between you, still shifting into electric sparks as your lips near one another. You can envision the curve of his lips as your lids shut, how it’ll feel licking into his mouth. Just before they do, Jayce stops you.

“I’m…” his voice is low, face pinched in a grimace. “I’ve never, I’m…”

Never… what? And oh, surprise hits you like a truck when the realization settles. Jayce Talis, a virgin? Your thoughts must show on your face because he starts to scoot away from you, shutting himself out.

Quickly, you grab his bicep. “That’s okay.” You squeeze reassuringly, hoping and praying you haven’t scared him off. Jayce was, above all else and the lust in your brain, once of your closest friends. “Seriously. And I’m fine going as fast or… or as slow as you want.”

He looks at you disbelievingly, though a hesitant smile plays on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. Shamefully, part of you revels in this. Heat licks at your groin at the thought of being the only one to see him so, to have his hands on your skin and voice in your ear.

He’s not saying no to you, he’s warning you, between the lines saying he wants you to be the first. You should take this revelation slow, have a first date and build up the promise of the good he could have. Your mouth moves before you can decide. “Let me… show you a good time?”

He nods, both of you lost for words as the gap diminishes. The ache inside you — thumping heavily in your chest and urging your hands to move, feel — burns brighter, gasoline of his lips exciting it so.

The moment your lips connect, you can’t help but sigh. The sparks you felt are burning, urging you to slip closer, to shut your eyes snd let the waves wash over you.

Jayce is enthusiastic, lips clumsily pressing against yours in a rhythm that’s hard to follow. You don’t find fault in that, not when you know you’re shaking with just as much need as he is. In the interval, where your breaths are one and your skin is hot, his need slips and he begins to follow your lead.

You push him against the couch, eyes still shut and unwilling to depart from him more than necessary. He gasps into your mouth when you settle in his lap, fists clenched painfully at his sides as he’s uncertain of what to do, how to do it.

Unrelenting, you push further into him. He loves this, it seems, as he arches in response, curling himself into the warmth and smell of you. Your hands slip beneath his shirt, memorizing the dips and curves of his body on the chance you’ll never experience this again. Ever the multitasker, your hands begin to fumble the buttons on his shirt, painstakingly slipping them free till his torso is bare to you.

Your lips separate from his, dragging a slick trail of kisses of want across his cheek, jaw, the thin skin by his ear. Oh, you know you’re doing something right when his head falls to your shoulder, pitched sigh of his gracing your ear as you suck the skin.

Flushed, the mark left behind blooms. There’s a tenseness in his shoulders as you draw back to review your work, and for a breath you worry that you’ve done something wrong. It dawns on you when you see the shift of his hips, the slight press into the seat below, that he’s resisting the urge to grind.

Heat blooms in your core when you realize he’s trying to be good, to follow your unspoken instructions to follow your lead. You take incentive and grind your clothed cunt against his tented trousers, the grind wonderfully heavy as the seam of your pants press against your clit.

His hips rut upwards sharply, surprised moan warm against your collarbones. Open-mouthed breaths pass between you, swirling in the air and suffocating in your ears, as the two of you curve together. His upwards grinds are inconsistent and fueled by his natural instinct to move, but lack of experience simmers alongside it.

You whisper Jayce’s name with a soft hand on his chest, which he takes as sign to stop. He doesn’t seem to process that his hips are still shifting an inch, like he’ll explode if he ceases his movements, but he watches you painfully expectantly.

The room is dim as you hadn’t bothered to flick on the light, though an adjacent lamp beams behind your head, haloing a soft glow around your head that blocks the light from kissing along his frame. For a moment you wish you withheld till you got to your bedroom or at least flicked on more light.

That worry passes by quickly when you take in what you can see — the soft parting of his reddened lips, the pleased furrow of his brows — he’s looking at you like you’re the lit candle in a shrouded room, like you’re the illuminated masterpiece of art in a room of lackluster beauties.

You can feel his clothed cock against your core, impatiently pressing close enough as though he could break out of his pants and yours. Grasping the back of the couch, you lean forward. You lift your hips by a few inches, punctuating your lifted dance with a hearty grind.

Curling and warming; you’d been tipsy when you entered your apartment, drink pulsing in your blood and inebriating your veins. Arousal and want for more pulsed instead, shaking your hands and holding your breath, and you weren’t sure you could live with the unresolved tension.

“How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly, though you aren’t sure he could answer. He’s been panting against your skin, wet lips dragging along the unmarred canvas. His grip on you, once shy and courteous, now hold you with such strength that he could fuck up into you however.

A whine. “My hands? Mouth? …” there’s a question that hangs in the silence. Do you want to fuck me? It asks. You swallow thickly imagining it, of him bending you over the couch or you in his lap, whispering in his ear as he whimpered in yours. He must be imagining the same because he presses into your heat, jumpy for you.

“You— well, hah,” Jayce babbles, sentence accentuated by his soft moan. You can hear the click of his throat as he swallows, voice almost hoarse as he speaks, “anywhere, anything. Just you, please.”

Your breath stutters for a moment, unsure how to respond appropriately. You lean forward and press your lips to his — sharing your unspoken want through unrelenting kisses, your shared pining in your teeth as you nip at his lip.

After a breath and slick kisses, you part from him and he lifts himself trying to chase your lips. He looks almost pained to be separated from you, the heat of your body. You shimmy down his frame, nudging his legs apart to kneel between them.

“You’re going to— you want to—?” He asks, shocked at the motion you’ve set. You give him a look, one of disbelief and certainty. He nods, understanding, more than excited to let the waves pass over him.

Your hands settle first at his knees, then slowly dance up the covered skin, fingers twirling and leaving a trail of promises as they near where he must be aching. Every drag upwards seems to hurt him with the way his muscles dramatically tense, brow pinching inch and inch further.

With you gripping his thighs for support, you lean in. You press your mouth against his groin, cheek petting the fabric as you kiss where his cock rests. He jumps like he’s been burned, then curls in towards you like he isn’t sure if he wants to run away or into the feeling.

You take a breath to look up at Jayce, though you don’t separate yourself from him. You imagine that the sensation is dimmed through all the fabric, but his mouth hangs open like you’re already sucking him off. His arm sits on the backrest, curling to press the back of his hand against his open lips.

It must be an erotic sight, you realize. Your frame, small when compared to his in this scenario, pressed against his long, long legs, like you’re trapped there. His eyes — golden sun, marigold circle around his blown pupils — won’t leave yours as you blink hazily up at him, nuzzling against his cock like you’re worshipping it, him.

Pressing your cheek against his thigh, you lift your free hand up. Your fingers dance along the seam of his pants, curling excitedly along where the button rests. One of the two layers that separates you from the heat of him, you’re glad to be rid of it.

You look up to him, silent question gracing him as your nimble digits circle the button. This is his first time — you don’t want to push him, overwhelm him, but you want him — and you can see he’s nervous in the stiffness of his frame.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You softly remind him, fingers smoothing away an invisible wrinkle in his pants. Your hands are antsy.

“No, no— Gods, please—“ he closes his eyes, legs spreading further in an invitation, “I want you.” I want you if you want me, he means.

Jayce’s hands slip to his pants before you can, pushing the button through the eyelet and hold your breath in your chest till it hurts, and you aid him the rest of the way. He moans unashamedly as the heaviest restriction on his cock is freed, leaving him nearly skin clad.

His boxers are still on, too shy and riddled with nerves to expose himself just yet. He’s watching you carefully, waiting to see your reaction as if you’d ever react negatively. You halt his worries by returning to your spot, lashes tickling your cheeks as you mouth along the clear shape of him.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Jayce whines as you suck on the covered tip of his cock. He can’t sit still while your tongue laves the precum-dampened spot on his boxers, wetting the fabric till it plastered to his cock within. His thighs are shaking next to your dipped head, like he’s fighting the urge to clamp them against your skull.

You’ve hardly done anything and he’s already falling apart. You peek up at him to the best of your ability, unwilling to pull away your mouth; his head is tipped back, only leaving his heaving chest for you to see, in and out.

Such open and honest responses have you sighing against him, focusing on the feel of him against you and the heavy pulsing in your cunt. You feel like you’re about to explode, like a bubbling kettle bursting with steam at the edges. Your lid is about to pop.

The pressure has long gone past aching, so you decide to relieve yourself with your free hand. You pop open the button on your pants with a quiet jingle, fingers slipping between your folds. You huff, warm breath wrapping around Jayce’s cock and it jumps against your skin.

There’s a sharp intake of air above you, and you open your eyes to find Jayce watching you. Your gaze meets just as the meat of your palm grinds against your clit, mouth dropping open as pleasure shoots up your spine.

You whimper his name, face shifting momentarily away as you forget what you were occupied with, and he chokes on air. His hand comes down quickly to grasp himself, breathing through the motions, like he was about to cum. “You… oh,” he whispers, starstruck. He’s getting off on this, seeing you lose yourself with his name in your mouth.

He can’t help himself, it seems, as he takes himself fully in hand and his boxers start to fall away. There’s a soft shlick sound that fills the air, wet head of his cock sliding his hands smoothly. His open-mouthed panting shows how overwhelmed he is, how one squeeze too many could have his cum painting his knuckles.

You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s imagining fucking you or painting your face. Watching him, you ache. You have to have him now, you decide as his thick hands squeeze himself indulgently.

You bat away his hand and he easily complies, nails poking under the band of his shifting boxers as you look up to him with the unspoken question. He nods enthusiastically, no longer shy and embarrassed, and lifts his hips to assist you.

He pops completely free from his boxers and exhales thankfully. You, on the same level, are incredibly thankful to be here. The tip of his cock shines with precum, twitching something fierce when you reach forward and use your still-slick hand to pull the foreskin down and expose him to the cool air.

Your hand slips, inching down the length of his shaft till your thumb rests on the sensitive circle of skin just by his sack, thumb circling softly. Jayce squirms under the pressure, though unwilling to voice his needs without your say-so or inquiry — always looking to please.

Lips trailing, you kiss up his exposed thigh, biting back a pleased smile when the muscle twitches beneath your touch. Trailing further and further up… you pass by his cock, much to his dismay.

The soft fuzz of his abdomen tickles your face where you press against him, stomach twitching beside you. As you lean more into the couch, his cock presses against your chest. He squirms, as if burdened by the uncomfortable pressure.

“Please,” Jayce says, never having been burdened by his open emotions and desires. You love that about him. He begins to murmur nearly inaudibly, “please, please, please…”

You draw back, looking inquisitively at him. You know you’re playing mean, though you can’t bring yourself to feel guilt. “Please what?”

“I want…” he swallows, thinking about how he should respond. “I want your mouth on me. Please.”

“My mouth was just on you.” You remind him, head tilted to the side.

“My— my cock.” He relents. His ears must be burning with a shocked flush, but you aren’t paying enough attention to actually check. “I want you to suck me off,” he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, “I feel like I’m about to explode.”

Laughing softly, you move to fulfill his request. The air in your living room has shifted multiple times throughout the evening — once electric and stifling, now shifting into something slower, more memorable.

Your mouth falls open and you lick up the side of his cock, lips plump around his shaft. You can tell he’s shaking from the anticipation, and you wonder how long he’ll last.

You breathe in once and then wrap your lips around the head of his cock, sucking softly as to not overwhelm him.

“Yes— oh, yes,” Jayce is loud with it, his gratitude and pleasure. He’s trying not to move too much underneath you, to let you work as you please, but he can’t resist his back from arching dramatically. You pray the neighbors don’t hear his cries. “Hah, oh…”

Bobbing slightly, you let yourself be lost to the sensation. You urge yourself to take him in further, to press your tongue against his sensitive underside as the head glides smoothly into your waiting mouth. With each slip down, you catch a whiff of him — woodsy like charcoal, mixed in with the natural scent of him that embodies him so well.

You know he’s not going to last longer when his cock twitches in your mouth, gasps of his filling your ears and traveling straight to your clit.

“Oh, you—“ he’s mewling now, unable to resist the slight curve of his hips into your mouth. His hand comes to curl in your hair, not demanding, but rather grounding himself as the world slips away. “Fuck, yes— yesyesyesyes—“

You pull your mouth up as spurts of him start to coat your tongue. He’s fighting to keep his lids open, to watch as you open yourself so readily for him. Lips parting, your tongue cradles the underside of his cock as his cum paints your tastebuds — salty, enticing you for more — and his jumping tip.

He sits still for a moment, recalibrating his sensors as you let the sense wash over you. With one final suck and kiss, which Jayce gasps and jolts with as the sensitivity burns him, you pull off him.

“That was…” Jayce wheezes, dopey smile pulling at his uneven lips. You laugh in agreement, taking in his wrecked form as you do, the sheen on his bare skin. “Holy shit. Get up here,” he leans over and pulls you up onto his lap with a strength you forgot he possessed.

He breathes against you for a moment, arching into your touch as your hands glide across his skin. If he could, you imagine he’d be purring. He pulls back from you to meet your eyes, a powerful glint in his own; the same one he possesses when he has an excellent, exciting plan.

“Can I… return the favor?” His fingers curl at your open waistband, still unbuttoned from your earlier pursuits. At the mention, your arousal floods back overwhelmingly fast, knocking your knees weak. You nod quickly, afraid words would fail you.

Your pants are gone in an instant — albeit with an awkward dance as neither of you want to separate, chests heaving and dragging together in the tight spot you’ve dug — leaving you bare at the waist down. Wet, damp, you press against his open thigh and the slight pressure has your back curling.

“Show me how,” Jayce says, unashamed and eager with a boyish giddiness.

“Take your hand… here like— uhn,” you hold his wrist in your hand, curling his longest fingers forward before his palm kisses your oversensitive clit. His chest puffs out a smidge at your moan, though you make no move to comment on this.

His fingers are stiff in your cunt as they separate your folds, curling in that ‘come hither’ motion you directed to earlier. You’re going to love teaching him, you realize, as he soaks up every lesson you grace him with, responding back as a student more enthusiastic than you.

Overwhelming gratitude falls over you in heavy bursts, trickling down your spine like a thick rainfall. Grinding softly, you lean forward and swallow his fingers in your heat.

You’re not sure if he’s trying to be subtle or doing it subconsciously, though you don’t have the energy to ponder; his cock, not hard, rubs against your leg as your whines and huffs kiss his ears.

“Gods, you’re better than I imagined.” He says against your temple as you lean forward for support, fingers curling in a mind-numbing race that leaves you unable to respond. You moan loudly at the image this paints; him, fucking his fist or his pillow, stifling his whines as he imagines you bent over, mouth open and saying his name. Jayce, Jayce.

You find yourself hurrying, grinding your clit as hard as possible till it hurts. You’ve been on the edge for ages, and now you find yourself overwhelmed by the sense of all around you. Each push of his fingers into you follows the grind of his hips, and you hope he’s imagining taking you, how the warmth of you would envelop his cock.

One proper twist has your legs buckling, clenching as deep as possible around his fingers as your hips stutter. You’re huffing in his ear and he whimpers in yours, dragging his oversensitive cock against the curve of your thigh, and oh, Jayce—

Your head falls against his shoulder. You feel as though you’ve been beaten, dragged, and wrung out— but in a good way, akin to the soreness that follows a massage.

Kissing up his neck when you find yourself, you peck at the spot you left before. He sighs happily, readjusting you in his arms.

“So,” he says, and you can feel his voice vibrate against your lips. You imagine his neck words are partnered with an excited grin, masking the uncertainty he showcased earlier, “how’d I do?”

my inbox is open! feel free to leave comments/ requests, or maybe suggestions for a part two…?

[simp-ly-writes]

When All That's Left is Love

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.9)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: After everything you both had been through; the pain, the torment, the utter longing, you and Jayce can only find your love leftover in the post-war rubble and go on to find various ways to show each other that your love is truly enough.

─ · · THE FOLLOWING CONTENT IS BETWEEN CONSENTING ADLUTS AND IS NOT MEANT FOR ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18. skip the smut once seeing the star! ⭐️ tags under cut

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective! jealous! possessive(?)! Jayce, fluff, emotional angst (happy tears*), Evren (OC), kissing, teasing, swearing, brief descriptions of an anxiety attack, mentions of death and war, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read. smut: unprotected pinv sex (be safe please!), oral (fem receiving), dom!Jayce, almost caught, chocking, marking/biting, size kink?, hand kink?, dirty talk, aftercare.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,456 |

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: a gift from me to you~ (gosh i'm so in love 😫🫠)

─────── · ·

─ · · Evren had come by near the end of breakfast as he helped ensure there would be no leftovers. He offered a giddy smile before stuffing his face and licking the plate clean. You sighed, disappointed, I was really looking forward to those waffles later. You feel Jayce's stare on you, catching your sad look as you stare at Evren's plate longingly. "Want to get ready together?" You feel Jayce hot breath whisper into your ear, you turn your head over your shoulder and nod as Jayce pulls your chair out and you both head down the hall.

"Would you mind helping me to the market? I used up the last of the eggs," Ximena asked, grabbing Evren's arm. "Of course, gorgeous," is the last thing you hear Evren say to Xiema before the bathroom door closes.

"You really are okay with Evren flirting with your mom?" you question as Jayce shrugs his shoulders, "my mom has better taste than him." Your jaw drops, "Jayce!" you shout before cracking up and Jayce can't help but laugh as well.

─ · · You and Jayce proceeded to get ready in the bathroom... or well, at least you tried too, Jayce on the other hand seemingly couldn't allow you to focus on anything but keeping his touch on you; pulling your head in his direction for a kiss before wrapping his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder as he looked at you both through the mirror with a grin- kissing you on the cheek. "Jayce! I can't get ready if you're all over me like this."

Jayce sighs, peeling his head away yet his arms and chest still block you against the vanity. "Someone's desperate for attention," you mumble underneath your breath, bending down as Jayce groans, not knowing that you would pay for your words and actions later.

You look for your hair product in the cabinet but just as you feel his hips roll into your backside you stand up straight and continue your routine- refusing to even make eye contact with him in the mirror.

With a huff Jayce pulls off his shirt before walking over to the shower albeit it slowly- knowing that the moment you saw skin, your attention was drawn to his back muscles flexing as he reached over to adjust the temperature and the small chain that dangles around his neck, you raise your brow curious as to what it is.

Steam begins to fill the small space as he turns around, bare chest brushing up against your covered one to grab a towel. Your hand grasped his side, eyes connecting with your promise ring dangling from his neck- you blink away the memories of that moment before trailing your hand slowly around and down to his stomach as you bite your lip, looking up at him.

Jayce says nothing, simply unbuckling his belt but before you can remove your hand he grasps your wrist, pulling it back to rest on his abs in a silent demand before you hear the leather slipping through the belt loops and crashing against the floor. You feel a wave of emotions come over you as your cheeks warm, your eyes not knowing where to rest upon as Jayce stares down at you, his body taking up your frontal vision and your hand so close to his- you simply stare up at the ceiling trying to calm yourself with deep breaths, I have work I need to get done today, I have work to do, I have-

─────── · · ⭐️

You feel Jayce's lips against your exposed neck feeling as he smiles against your skin once hearing you moan, fuck, that you quickly try and cover with your other hand. "God you're so beautiful," Jayce murmurs- his hands reach up your shirt leaving you gasping as he gropes your chest and feels for a clasp. Your hand slips from your mouth, "Jayce" you whisper-shout his name slowly in warning your yet it comes out more like a plea.

"Mhmm?" He murmurs, lips finding your cheek trailing down to your chin and across to your lips. You feel his breath, hot and heavy as he speaks softly to you, "I know you worked so hard on your make-up and hair darling, I won't mess it up, promise." You feel as he pulls away, your eyes opening as he pats the counter, "sit."

You stare for a moment, thighs clenching together, you can feel your core start to throb in want as Jayce watches the gears turn in your head, "just want to make you feel good, sweetheart." You cover your face with your palms, shaking your head, trying to regain your rationale mind but all you can think about us how good his fingers would feel stretching you out, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your clit, the feeling of his beard scratching the skin between your thighs- you groan before lifting yourself onto the counter, looking at Jayce with pleading eyes.

Jayce rubs his palms up and down your thighs, feeling as they tremor in wait, the material of your nightgown starts to bunch up at the top of your waist exposing your wet folds soaking through the fabric of your undergarments. You shiver feeling the ghost of his knuckle teasingly swipe up and down your folds, "this wet for me already?" you nod, staring down at his hands watching the veins that bulge across the back of them and how they run up his forearms, you bite your lip remembering all the nights you fantasized about those exact hands helping you to reach your release and how many times your own fingers failed to compare.

You wiggle against the countertop in need, ready to start begging and by the look in Jayce's darkening eyes, he expects you to beg for him. "please just touch me, please," you press yourself against his hand, rotating your hips as he pushes the heel of his palm against your clit, you groan once finally finding friction to soothe the ache within you.

Jayce pulls his hand as you hump air for a second ready to complain before feeling as Jayce pulls down your ruined panties, casting them aside with his belt. Two large fingers circle around your leaking hole, the first knuckles sneaking in to gather your wetness before carrying it up to clit- pinching it and getting you to whine. When Jayce beings to rub, your head soon feels too heavy for your body- your forehead falling against his shoulder, "feels so good, Jayce," you hum into his ear, he smiles at the praise, "missed my fingers-hm?"

"mhmm, so much, Jayce. Just didn't feel the same," Jayce's movements pause again and you are beyond frustrated, reaching down to move his hand but Jayce remains firm, looking at you in the eyes with a strong, no.

"Who touched you here? tell me," Jayce asks, taking his attention away from your clit and instead entering your hole, filling you slowly before stopping halfway seeing as you don't answer him, "who fucked this pussy?"

"Only you since then Jayce, promise, only you," you feel yourself drip down your thighs as you pray for another finger to further the already delicious stretch you feel. "So this is mine?" you nod your head frantically feeling that third finger prodding at your entrance, the stretch a pleasurable burn as you grip his forearm, "all yours" you moan out feeling as he fully pulls his fingers out before filling you quickly and roughly.

"Mine to finger?" he kisses you once, another thrust, "yes," you whisper against his lips.

"Mine to fuck?" his kiss lingers, teeth pulling at your lip, "yes," you moan out, feeling his other hand move to place pressure againat your clit in small circular motions. The steam of the room coats your mind in a foggy haze of pleasure.

"Mine to cum in?" you clench down on his fingers, hard. Jayce presses his head against your own, breaths ragged, you feel across his chest down to his abs as he continues to fuck you with his fingers feeling as his muscles tense with every breath he takes.

Sparks explode across your hot skin that quickly turn into flames as you wiggle your hips, chasing your impending release. "Did you dream of me, baby? Me filling you up? Stretching you out? Reaching parts inside of you that no one else could? Marking you with my-"

"Jayce!" you yell, his words inciting your orgasm to come crashing down as you moan and whine against him yet Jayce only quickens his pace, slamming his fingers in and out of your gushing hole, the entire scene obscene as you flush at the squelching sounds of your lingering orgasm.

Your thighs are shaking as the once pleasurable burn turns into painful sensitivity, you tap Jayce's back three times getting him to stop. You watch as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your dripping cunt and see the way that they gleam underneath the artificial lights.

"My messy girl," Jayce belittles you, licking your release off of his fingers slowly, enjoying the taste thoroughly before bending down and forcing your knees apart, "let me clean you up?" he asks, looking up at you with large and shining hazel eyes- pleading.

How could you refuse that look? Grabbing him by his curly brown locks you lead his face towards your sex, withering and learning back against the cool mirror once feeling his rough tongue take a long lick up your slick. "J-jayce~" you sob his name and feel his moan vibrate your clit, your ankles lock behind his back, pushing him further into you.

Jayces hands grip your thighs tightly, you know marks will appear later but how could you care when he was making you see literal stars as you blinked looking up into the light fixture, lost in pleasure. "I'm gonna cum... a-almost there," you look down meeting his eyes as his tongue enters your hole making sure to gather every last drop of your previous orgasm.

You open your mouth in a silent scream, gripping his hair as he groans, nose rocking against your clit as your muscles clench- your orgasm rocking through every vein in your body, tingling and coming to life as your breaths become short and staggered before hitching as Evren calls your name from the front door.

You freeze, trying to pull Jayce away yet he just shakes his head, continuing to lap up your cunt as you plead at him, "J-jayce I-ah," you whisper through moans trying to wiggle yourself away but only finding yourself sitting more on his face, his hands squeezing and gripping your ass in warning.

You breathe out a sigh in relief once feeling him pull away, not bothering to wipe his mouth as he pulls you in for a kiss- tasting your release on his lips. You push your hands at his chest, needing air as he kneads your muscles, "I have to go see him," you try and explain to Jayce, feeling as he rocks his covered bulge against your prepared entrance. "Yeah? you need to go see him?" Jayce counters while starting to pull your night gown and bra with it over your head.

"I-I thought you said you weren't going to mess up my look," you try and counter with pout and glare once seeing your reflection in his dark eyes. Jayce smiles softly, "you're glowing, my love." You shake your head with a sigh, "I just came twice Jayce, I'm covered in sweat-there's a difference," you try and explain yet Jayce only shakes his head, kissing you to effectively shut you up. You hear Evren yell your name again, the front door slamming closed as his footsteps continue inwards into the apartment.

"He'll leave soon," Jayce explains as you listen to him unzip his pants, feeling as he rubs his length across your slick before feeling the tip of his cock poke at your hole- threatening to enter. Jayce tilts your head to the side, brushing your hair away before kissing up your neck to behind your ear, biting down on your lobe and whispering inside, "say you don't want this and I'll stop so you can go say hi to your friend."

You sigh frustrated, Jayce knows what he's doing, knows that your need is speaking louder than your brain. Evren will leave... right? "I need you Jayce," you confirm feeling as your hole wraps around the head of his cock, sucking him in. Jayce curses underneath his breath, knuckles turning white as he grips the countertop. "You have to relax for me, sweetheart. A bit too tight," Jayce says, biting his lip listening to you whine and force yourself to relax.

Jayce sighs, pushing himself in inch by inch, the time apart and the prep from his fingers could only do so much to fit you around his girth as you hissed, nails clawing into his back as he rocked you both gently to start. A hairbrush of yours falls and clatters against the tiled floors. Jayce leans forwards- sinking deeper into you, pressing a kiss to your nose before leaning down and leaving wet hot kisses against your shoulder.

"Hows it feel? you doing okay?" a knuckle gently brushing up and down your spine as you shiver and wiggle your thighs around his waist, "feels... good, so good, Jayce. So deep- thank you, Jayce, thank you," you cry out in bliss feeling him rock into you again, your walls aching with need.

"Yeah? This what you needed-hm? Just cock in you to make you relax?" You lean forwards pressing a kiss to his arm- not trusting your words as only moans come out of your mouth in between gasps of air as he forces himself in you again and again... a knock at the bathroom door sounds. You freeze yet Jayce keeps fucking you, uncaring as he smirks and looks down at you, wondering when you'll tell him to stop.

You stare at him blankly, a harsh snap of his hips has you about to moan yet he places his lips quickly against your own to muffle the sound, "quiet" he hisses into your ear afterwards. You paw at his arms, mind half filled with desperation for him to fill you, the other side to wanting to pull away. You close your eyes, thankful for the shower still being on but praying for Evren to just walk away.

Jayce begins to rub at our clit, your hands fall off Jayce's arms as you arch your back, leaning against the counter. After hearing nothing for a little while you look up at Jayce, I'm close, you try and whisper to him before biting back another moan- feeling as your eyes well with tears.

Jayce removes his hand from your clit, grabbing your waist as he starts to fuck you harder, hips slamming into your own as Jayce chases his own release.

You can barley contain yourself as you cry out in pleasure, mind fully gone, only thoughts of your impending orgasm clouding over. Jayce watches as your eyes roll into the back of your head, the way your chest bounces with every thrust of his cock into your leaking core. You feel as his hand snakes its way up between your breasts before gently gripping the sides of your throat in warning.

Another knock sounds, this time louder, "Hey, you doing okay? I'm gonna head to the library, take it easy today alright?" Evren says, voice close to the door. Jayce pulls your neck towards him, your eyes looking into his own as he squeezes again in warning before slowly releasing his grip. You clear your throat yelling, "Okay Ev! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you then!" you hear him tap the door twice in goodbye before locking your front door again. You collapse against Jayce's chest, moaning loudly, "Did that turn you on, sweetheart? Having someone almost hear me fucking you... could have seen my fucking you? Making them know that I'm yours and you're only mine?"

"Fuck, Jayce! Yes," you wiggle your hips meeting his thrusts, "just want to be yours." Jayce kisses you harshly feeling your thighs lock around him as you near your peak. "Gonna let me cum inside you?"

"Yes, please Jayce," you cry out. "Want to feel me coating your insides? Making you mine?"

"Mhmm!" you shake in his arms that wrap around your back, holding you upright as you feel him twitch within you, you gasp feeling your own orgasm rake over your body as you shudder against his chest, tears dripping down your cheeks as you mumble incoherently once feeling him fill you up with jagged thrusts, "s-such a good girl, so perfect for me," he stutters into a growl feeling as you clench down harder at the sound, effectively milking him dry.

You both lean against one another's hot and sticky skin. Jayce presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair away from your face as he checks you over quickly, your heart aches at how quickly he changes personalities before picking you up by the back of your thighs and carrying you into the shower, still connected. You hum once feeling the warm water coat your skin before feeling the cool tile against your back as Jayce steadies you, equally hissing while watching him pull out.

You feel your combined release drip from your hole and start to run down your thighs with the water. You gasp once feeling the rough pads of Jayce's fingers collect the mixture and stuff it back inside your sore opening as you grip his bicep and take deep breaths. "Can't waste it now," Jayce murmurs- you question if you can orgasm again from not being able to feel your legs... and then you suddenly remember all the papers you have to mark as post-orgasm clarity comes to the forefront of your thoughts. "May just need to fuck you again if you're still thinking about anything, relax, my love," Jayce, lovingly ridicules you, picking up your chin to press a gentle kiss to your puffy lips.

─────── · · ⭐️

You sigh- forcing your mind to numb as you watch Jayce lather and wash your skin before cleaning himself. You reach up and pull him forwards by his shoulders so that you can wash his hair, digging your nails into his scalp as he smiles contently, closing his eyes in pure bliss. You had never seen Jayce so utterly... relaxed. Your heart swells as you cares his jaw, running your thumb across his cheek, you didn't realize you said those words aloud before hearing Jayce's response, "only you could make me feel this and it is only you I would trust enough."

Your heart skips a beat, "I love you, Jayce."

"And I love you, Sweetheart, so incredibly much," you squeal once feeling his large hand hold the back of your head, pushing your lips together in a heated kiss. We're never getting out of here are we?

─────── · ·

─ · · Drying yourselves off you both helped each other to get dressed. Jayce's heart ached seeing that you had taken some of his clothes with you, "I found the smell comforting" you explain with a blush before throwing one of Jayce's shirts in his face. He quickly catches it before then and moves to press a kiss to the side of your head as you sort through what to wear for the day.

Sliding on your pants you fiddle around your drawers for a shirt, huffing frustratedly when you realize the shirt you wanted to wear was still drying. "How about that white one?" Jayce points while tucking in his shirt. You become distracted seeing his forearms on display as he reaches for his belt. Jayce tilts his head and looks at you, "You don't have to, sweetheart. Just thought it would go with your pants."

You grab the white shirt and blazer to go with it. Jayce places one of his cufflinks between his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he fiddles with the metal before moving to his other sleeve. He watches as you button up your shirt, confused as to why you still looked annoyed. "Can you turn around please?" you ask quietly, slipping your blazer on without even looking at him.

"Turn around? But we just... okay, are you doing alright, darling?" Jayce asks, you stare as he bends over and reaches for his own jacket on your bed watching all the material of his clothes perfectly contour his body. Jayce listens to you huff, "Stop it," you demand.

Jayce turns back around to find you choosing a pair of shoes before moving to sit in an armchair within the corner of your room, practically shaking. "Stop what?" he asks softly- not wanting to anger you further as he kneeling before you, placing your ankle on his knee before sliding your shoes onto your feet and lacing you in. He presses a kiss to your knee before picking up your other foot and doing the same.

You open and close your mouth annoyed by how good he looks while simply getting himself ready. The way he moves and flexes as if knowing you're watching. Jayce picks up your hands in between his own, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. "We can't get ready together again," you say before standing and picking up your jewellery from your nigh stand, hands shaking as you try and find the small clasp of your necklace behind your head before feeling Jayce's larger hands take the chain from your hands and clasp it together with ease before gently pulling your hair back into place.

"Why?" Jayce asks, hands rubbing up and down your sides as you both stand there silently and feel the suns warm kiss against your faces coming in between the blinds. "You're really distracting," you mumble underneath your breath before pulling away from his touch and heading outside the room. You listen as Jayce bursts out laughing- the sound of it echoing through the apartment before he takes a few large strides to meet back up with you at the front door.

─────── · ·

─ · · You take Jayce on a tour of the university campus, walking him around the greenhouse, pointing and explaining the various local fauna to him (yet also getting annoyed once noticing he was too busy staring at you instead of the flowers). "Jayce look! You can look at me whenever you want but not these," you try and explain. Jayce sighs looking at the flowers more closely, imagining how good they would look in your hair... fuck, I'm staring again, he thinks to himself.

You both are go un-noticing to the way a few of your students point and cover their mouths gasping and gossiping at the sight of your both together.

─ · · Next you take him into the library where you showed off your recently published studies with Evren. Jayce was so happy for you he nearly yelled while picking you up for a hug and giving you a little spin. His smile was intoxicating as he took the material off the shelf and started flipping through it.

You rested your head on his arm looking between his reaction and the pages as he pointed to the various diagrams you drew and the articles you collaborated on with utmost interest before gently placing it back on the shelf, squeezing your hand, "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." You pulled him in for another hug, "thank you... it really means a lot."

"I'll say it a thousand more times since you deserve nothing but praise," you looked up, eyebrow raised as Jayce winked before pulling away, dragging your hand with him and back into the library's lobby where a small crowd had formed.

"Head Councillor! What brings you to the campus?" "Is it true that you slept with Councillor Medarda?" "When's the engagement?" "Can you let us know Piltovers plans for new trade?" "Do you still consider yourself, 'the man of progress'?" "Miss!" a hand reaches out to shake your own yet you quickly lace your fingers together and offer an anxious smile, taking a step slightly behind Jayce becoming worried as the crowd of journalists only seems to grow once discovering you.

Jayce looks down at you, trying to hold a smile while the lights flash in your face and various students begin yelling and complaining about the growing noise. Jayce shakes a few hands and waves away the questions with apparent ease yet you can see the way he grits his teeth, jaw tense as he constantly rings his fingers through his hair and grips your waist a bit too tightly, trying to lead you through the crowd and back to his hotel room so you both can get some work done today.

"Thank you all for your interest, but me and my partner here must get going-" Jayce begins to say, almost making it to the doors yet the question are a waterfall. "So you both are back together then?" "Why and when did the split happen?" "From partner to assistant, did you sleep your way to the top of society?" "Can we expect a wedding in the future?" "What about kids?" "Who is the heir to the House of Talis?" "Do you consider yourself distracted from your role?"

You start to feel sick, mind flashing back to all those sponsorship events you both used to attend. The seemingly never-ending curious eyes and hands- someone grabbed your elbow tugging you away from Jayce. You scream, threatening to fall back as a sea of reporters hold you upright... there are way to many hands touching me right now, your eyes go wide with panic as you begin to hyperventilate.

Fuck, where's Jayce? where is-, you blink through the masses trying to find Jayce, Evren, anyone you recognize before feeling your arm be tugged- firmly into a warm chest. Jayce shoves an on-coming reporter, taking deep breaths through his nose, eyes pointed and threatening as he opens the door for you and you both escape outside.

─ · · "Are you alright?" Jayce asks once you both are a distance away, "I'm sorry that happened. I had not considered that was the first time we had been publicly seen together since..." Jayce's voice trails off, his hand cupping the back of your head- eyes wide and glistening as he studies every micro-expression that crosses your features.

"I'm okay... just a bit... shaken-up after it all is all," you try and explain, reaching out to hold Jayce's hand hearing as he lets out a sigh of relief. "When you come back to Piltover, I'll make sure this doesn't happen."

"When I come to Piltover?" You raise a brow while holding a frown doing your best to hide the playful tease behind your eyes to appear pissed. Jayce opens and closes his mouth, removing the hand from your head to instead scratch at his neck, "I-uh, well, I was assuming, ass move of mine that-ah, you were coming back with me?"

You stare at him, tapping your foot with your arms crossed watching as he sweats, eyes frantic in panic before walking past him and in the direction of the hotel without another word with a smile. "Sweetheart(name)- please, I-I can stay here or visit, whatever works for you-" Jayce runs after you, hands extending yet pulling away quickly as he goes to touch you- unsure of how to not set you off further.

─────── · ·

─ · · When you get to the hotel doors, a staff member quickly ushers you both inside as you stand in the elevator, "what floor?" you ask in a cold tone as Jayce reaches over and hits number ten. You wait until the doors close before pulling Jayce by the lapels of his jacket and pressing a kiss close to his mouth before dropping your hold quickly and facing forwards.

Jayce stands there still leaning, shocked etched into every muscle as he blinks twice. "Where did that come from?" he whispers before standing up straight once hearing the doors chime open. You smile up at him innocently, adjusting the bag on your shoulder with nonchalance- waiting for him to unlock the door.

You watch as he fumbles for the key in his suit jacket before extending his arm through the doorway, allowing you to enter first before closing the door behind you both and taking your jacket to hang up in the entry way. You look around his organized room, picking up the random papers on his desk before falling onto his made bed and spreading out your arms with a sigh.

Jayce stands at the foot of the bed looking down at you in concern, "Jayce my love," you call out to him while observing his hopeful eyes. "Of course I'm coming back with you... I'd follow after you endlessly," you admit before feeling a dip in the bed as Jayce burrows his face into your stomach, you feel as he shakes his head, "can't believe you, toying with my poor heart," you hear him murmur.

"Would it also count as toying if I said I wanted my ring back?" you feel Jayce frees before pushing himself up and hovering above you. "Really?" he whispers, you can hear a younger Jayce in those words, see it in his bright eyes, feel it in the duvet as he rushes to unbutton his shirt and fish the chain out and over his head.

You sit up in the bed, leaning against the head board and presenting your hand not being able to contain the smile that spreads across your cheeks mirroring Jayce's grin as he slowly slides the band across your finger before leaning down to press a kiss against it.

You squeeze your hands together, closing your eyes to enjoy the moment as you hear laugh to himself in disbelief before hearing him choke into a sniffle. Your eyes flash open looking to see whats wrong watching as Jayce silently cries with a smile, gently shaking his head while staring at you with large hazel eyes that seemingly appear to be made out of gold from the sunlight flooding into the room. "Jayce," you softly call him name, feeling as your own eyes start to burn.

Jayce's eyes closes his eyes once hearing you say his name so sweetly, so full of love that his heart has his head falling to the bed as he grips your knees- posing as if to worship you. "Jayce?" you call out again, combing your fingers through his hair as he continues to quietly cry, "thank you," he says before picking up his head and trying to blink through the tears. You wipe your own away, reaching up to help him wipe them away as he does the same with choked chuckle.

"For what, darling?" you pose back.

"For loving me," Jayce moves his head to kiss your palm, taking a deep breath before continuing, "For allowing me back into your arms, for dealing with every ribbon and string that comes attached with me. For accepting me as enough even when I couldn't see it- can't see it-" You leap forwards and into Jayce's arms, sobbing into his shoulder and pressing a light kiss to his neck.

"Forever and always, Jayce. Until the end and whatever comes after that for us," you promise with a squeeze of your arms and another press of your lips to his skin feeling as Jayce nods, not being able to find the right words for the first time in his life in order to convey the utter relief he feels in this moment, feeling you in his arms, hearing your love in his ears, knowing that you both had finally gotten over the mountain and through every valley to come to this.

You both find yourself crying harder once feeling a cool breeze enter the room- bursting from a loose window and caressing your skin in a gentle embrace. Hello Viktor, you think to yourself, opening up your hand from Jayce's back, Thank you for returning him to me, you feel the cool air seep between your fingers before leaving like it never came.

"What do you think Viktor would think?" Jayce mumbles, playing with the seams on your shirt, you hum, starting at yourself through the mirror above the hotel desk. "I think he'd be happy for us," you respond, placing your hand back on Jayce's back, rubbing large circles with your palm feeling as he lets out a long breath, Thank you, Viktor, for allow me to see this, Jayce thinks to himself, Thank you.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: right in the feels am I right? AHHH 😭😭😭

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

[dansroo]

Are we not supposed to be already married?

based on this request.

content; Jayce Talis x male!reader. modern!au. husband!Jayce. fluff. silly and cloying romance. established relationship. married couple. suggestive!, teasing. just lots of love and kisses. 🙂‍↕️

word count; 1.3K (I promise that this time I wrote the correct number)

a/n; I had to republish it because, for some strange reason, it didn't appear in the tags. 👀 english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammatical error !

thank you for requesting! 🤍

You looked at your notes with great satisfaction. You had been working for the last few days on the development and design of a better processor; your beta design had been a complete success, so you decided to exploit your skills and improve yourself even more. Likewise, you knew you had the potential to achieve something much better, and you weren't going to waste an opportunity like that.

The little blue stone moved between your fingers as you observed it carefully. It had been a significant challenge to get Hextech and programming to complement each other without causing an explosive disaster, but it was something you strangely enjoyed, especially the reactions that magic had when coming in contact with computational systems.

Although it was very different for Jayce, who had to take care that you didn't end up losing an important limb.

The sudden touch of hands on your shoulders pulled you out of your bubble. “Can we go home now?” you chuckled, feeling his hands slide down your arms and then get tangled around your waist. “Please?” he whispered in your ear, causing a couple of tickles.

“Just finishing this, then we'll go home and see about dinner.”

You took a worn chalk, started to correct and write new equations on the blackboard in front of you, while you kept fidgeting with the small stone in your other hand.

You glanced sideways at Jayce's hand as it rose to gently take you by the wrist.

“Where is your ring?!” He asked with indignation, observing the absence of it on your finger.

You rolled your eyes, smiling with amusement “It's on my desk, I couldn't risk something happening to it while I work, right?”

“Or maybe you don't love me anymore and you want the divorce” you heard him say in an exaggeratedly sad tone, hiding his face in the gap between your shoulder and neck. “Geez, don't be so dramatic.” you said, laughing, listening to his laughter being muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

His arms didn't move from their place, still hugging you from behind. Eyes following the path that your hand was tracing on the blackboard and a smile on his face every time he heard you whisper unconsciously. He loved watching you work.

There was so much calm and silence that, for a moment, you had forgotten he was still there until you felt him place a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled, feeling his hands letting go of your waist.

“So, did you manage to convince Viktor to go home early?”

You heard his footsteps, and judging by the sound of a chair's legs being dragged on the floor, you deduced that he had sat at your desk. He took the time to explore your workplace, admiring a beautiful framed photograph resting on it. Jayce never missed an opportunity to look at that frame whenever he could.

It was of you and him, at the beginning of all this dream of his—both were so stupid to notice the love you had for each other. It was as if his heart beat again the same way it did the day he dared to kiss you—a clumsy but sweet kiss.

Your engagement ring was placed right in front.

“Oh, yeah… we should invite him to dinner with us one day, what do you think?”

You placed the chalk at the bottom of the blackboard, giving it one last look before you turned in his direction. “I think it's a great idea.” you smiled as you walked towards him, sliding your hands into your pockets. Once you were there you sat on the edge of the wooden desk—not without first storing the little blue stone in the metal box—, with Jayce next to you sitting in your chair. You yawned, listening to the sound of the light drizzle outside; turned your head to look at the window, where you began to see the small drops accumulate on the glass—tarnishing it almost completely.

You feel his fingers wrap around your arm, forcing you to take you hand out of you pocket. A giggle escapes from your lips as you watch him holding your ring.

“Would you marry me?”

“Are we not supposed to be already married?”

“It doesn't matter, let's get married twice.”

“I told you that we should have brought the umbrellas, Talis”

You sighed as you took off your soaked shoes, leaving them at the entrance. At first, it was a harmless drizzle; then it turned into a complete furious storm that ended up soaking both of you—as you had predicted this morning.

You removed the hair from your face, which was starting to stick in your skin thanks to how wet it was. “I know, I'm sorry, I didn't think it would rain this way” you heard him say between nervous giggles. “Didn't it bring you memories?” he asked you, with a silly and contagious smile. You sighed again, approaching to him.

“Let me think, like the time you fell on your face and—”

“Oh please, no, we've already talked about that.”

You laughed heartily; you knew which other memory he was referring to. But for God's sake, falling while you trying to calm your angry partner in the rain it's not something that you can forget so easily.

But not everything had gone so wrong that day, he had achieved his task after all.

“What am I going to do with you?” you asked, gently removing a small leaf that had gotten tangled in his hair. “I think the real question is, what haven't you already done to me?”

You shook your head slightly, laughing as you ran a hand over your face “My god, shut up.” you murmured embarrassedly as you hit his arm, making him laugh.

“I think I should consider the divorce.”

“Hey!, don't joke about that!”

Your laughter echoed down the hall, as you headed to your shared room. Jayce didn't stay behind, following you some time later.

The rules were simple, the one who lost made the dinner.

Both were curled up on the bed, with a large blanket covering your shoulders, wearing dry and warm clothes. After taking a hot shower, you both had started arguing about who would cook today's dinner; you decided that the only way to know was to leave it to the loser.

Your score was the highest, just for a couple of points. You mocked in silence, listening to his complaints.

“You're making fun of me?”

“Of course not—” you were about to make the final move to win when you felt him kiss your cheek, cradling your face with his hands to turn you completely toward him. “What the hell are you doing?” you said, laughing, as he kissed your whole face.

“I can't kiss my husband's pretty face anymore?” he replied, kissing the corner of your lips and then kissing you properly. Your body fell onto the bed—the control slipping from your hands in the process. The path of his kisses returned once more across your cheeks, gliding down to your jaw and finally reaching your neck. Initially, just were clumsy kisses, tickling you; then they became hungrier, wetter.

You clung to his arm, letting out a soft gasp as your eyes closed— just what he wanted. You were so focused that maybe you wouldn't notice that none of his hands were touching you, as usual.

“GAME OVER.”

You opened your eyes abruptly, feeling him smile against your skin. “What the-” you pushed him away, taking him off you—listened to his chuckle.

“Jayce Talis, you're a damn cheater.” you pointed your finger at him, laughing, after you stopped looking at the screen in front of the bed to turn and see him.

“Don't say you didn't like it.” he whispered, hugging you from behind to lie you down again on the bed, where you two were curled up all day.

Well, until you had to get up to cook.

© dansroo.2024.

[captain039]

Unconventional Alpha

Alpha!Viktor x omega!reader

IM STILL WRITING BLOOD, FUR AND MAGIC DONT WORRY XD

Warnings: Heats, suppressants, AOB, light swearing, Viktor’s not dying but still disabled, reader has chronic pain, plus size reader, nesting, Older Viktor, Professor Viktor, artistic reader, age gap reader is in their 20s +

The sound of pen against paper filled the room along with the voice of the professor. You glance around at the other students eagerly taking in the presentation hosted by Professor Viktor. This was a mandatory presentation, one you wouldn’t have gone to but here you are scribbling in your notebook all the same. These chairs were highly uncomfortable, you were changing position every five minutes because your hips and back were protesting against the hard wooden chair. At least you could bring a pillow to your classes and actually be comfortable. You see a few others not paying attention as well, some in your classes of art others from the engineering side you think. You know of Professor Viktor he’s well known around the academy and his partner Professor Jayce Talis, there’s a whole history with them making the academy what it is today. Hex tech is a marvel of science infused into everyday items now. The rumours surrounding them range from them being secret mages to them being mates. When the presentation finishes you’re thankful, eager to leave this place and get to your class. What was going to be a quick escape turned into you waiting for the whole class to leave. The professor had requested to speak to you, once everyone had filed out you approached his desk.

“You seemed uninterested in my presentation” he says and you grimace a bit.

“I’m sorry Professor, it’s not my interest” you explain and he nods giving you a once over.

“Art?” He asks.

“That easy to tell?” You ask and he smiles a bit shaking his head.

“Nothing at all about the progress of hex tech interests you?” He asks and you shake your head feeling guilty.

“Even those who don’t take my course find some of it interesting” he comments moving around his desk before leaning against his resting his cane nearby. You catch a little bit of his scent up close, spiced coffee, amber and the smell of scientists and an alpha undertone. You found it odd you picked him as a beta or even an omega.

“Something wrong?” He asks head tilting slightly and you realise you’re making a face.

“No, sorry just in thought, it is interesting I guess, just not to me?” You make another grimace face.

“Your honesty is appreciated” he chuckles.

“I like to gather unique perspectives and opinions, from my students, though it seems you are clearly unmoved by my presentation” he teases and you flush with embarrassment, you don’t know what to say or how to respond, you’re starting to wonder if you should’ve just lied.

“I’ll let you return to your arts Miss Y/l/n” he says standing up again moving behind his desk and sitting down.

“Good day,” he says.

“You too” you mutter and leave. What a horrible interaction. You groan internally and trudge to your art class. You relax once you’re there, your little corner of artistic heaven, there are only six students in this room and it only fills when there are assignments or your professor shows you some new tricks. There are two other people in today, you’ve forgotten their names already, not that it matters, there aren’t group projects or many means of interaction. You put in your earphones before you begin, putting on some music before you get lost in your painting. You paint for hours, getting lost in your own world, occasionally stopping for a snack or drink before starting up again. The sun begins to set by the time you break out of it, rolling your chair back and looking at your work before you stop your music and begin to pack up. You glance around the room spotting a figure at the door, Professor Viktor, he catches your eyes before he walks off making you frown a bit before continuing to pack.

You head to the dorm wing, your body aching as it always does after a long day of sitting. You take two pain medications to ease some of the pain though you’re starting to think it hardly does anything. On your way to the dorm wing, you see Professor Viktor and Professor Talis in the courtyard chatting to each other. Professor Talis seems enthused about something while Professor Viktor listens attentively before his eyes move to you like he knows you are there. There’s a small twitch of his lips and you blink before turning away and rushing back to your room. You shake your head slugging your bag off your shoulder before falling on your bed with a small sigh. You grumble grab a heating pad from your bedside table and lie on your stomach activating it and putting it on your lower back. You sigh in relief at the warmth spreading through your lower body. You hug your pillow close and close your eyes letting exhaustion take over before you’re asleep too quickly.

You wake up sometime later, around 8, you groan and push off your bed the heat pad falling to the floor making you grumble, but leave it not being bothered to pick it up just yet. Your stomach grumbles and you grab your keys and pass before locking and leaving your room. You head to the cafeteria, it’s dark out now, and only a few students and professors around the academy. The cafeteria is open 24/7 with the help of hex-powered robots, though sometimes you question their cooking. You order a meal and sit down at one of the tables running a hand through your hair. You probably shouldn’t have napped, but what the hell, you always need more sleep.

“Evening” You jump a bit at the voice looking to who it came from. Professor Viktor gives a small smile again leaning against his cane but standing tall.

“May I?” He asks gesturing to the seat in front of you.

“Oh, yeah sure” You nod and watch him sit down.

“Late dinner” he comments.

“I fell asleep when I got back to my room” you shrug.

“I see” he hums.

“You?” You ask.

“Science never sleeps” he says and you nod typical scientist thing to say. You glance around noting a few other late-night students, some from the engineering department and some from the science department.

“Would you not rather sit with your pupils?” You ask as he follows your gaze.

“Mr Fischer is a fine young inventor, however, I find myself drawn to your lack of interest” you want to groan at his bringing up of the presentation today. Your food comes over interrupting the talking briefly.

“Tell me, young artist, why does my hex tech bore you so much?” He doesn’t beat around the bush and you tense.

“It doesn’t bore me” you try to explain even though it really does bore you and you have no idea what any of it means.

“Don’t lie to me, it’s very easy to see” he smiles unoffended.

“Ok fine it does, but I just don’t like numbers, equations, all that boring science and math stuff” You sigh poking at your food before taking a bite.

“I see, does art not require equations and math?” He asks.

“Well sort of, but not that kind of scribbled stuff” You feel bad for being blunt but the professor chuckles.

“I could say art is scribbled stuff” he repeats your words and you sigh.

“Some of it is” you mumble looking at your food instead. You take a small breath catching his scent again, it makes you falter it was strange for such a strong scent to come from him to you.

“I have seen your work” he says and you frown.

“You have?” You ask.

“Oh yes, the piece in the council room is remarkable” You flush a bit at his praise but it is one of your best works and for it to be in such a place is probably your highest achievement.

“You capture emotions so well” he adds. Your piece is based on the older times of two lovers torn by different worlds. Him a low-born farmer and she is a lady of high society.

“A heartbreak of lovers” he says and you study him for a moment.

“Didn’t expect me to appreciate the finer things?” He asks and you instantly look back to your food.

“No, I just figured you would be interested in scribbling,” you say.

“Your work is hardly scribble” The way he says it sends a shiver up your spine, defending.

“Took me weeks to complete that painting,” you say.

“I can imagine” he answers.

“But I do have a respect for such things, to create with colours, brushes and a canvas, it’s fascinating” he says and now you feel worse for saying his presentation is boring.

“Your work… it isn’t boring,” you say.

“Oh?” He asks as you fiddle with your food some more.

“It’s revolutionary, changed the world and many lives” you explain.

“I know that, but what is it to you?” He asks and you tense looking to his honey-coloured eyes.

“You won’t offend me with your opinions Miss Y/l/n, I’ve had lots of negative comments in my time as a scientist, I can take it” he smiles.

“Why does it matter what I think?” You ask.

“I’m just some art student” you shrug.

“Hardly” he whispers and it makes you shiver again.

“Think about it, if you truly cannot find anything interesting in my work I will leave it be” he offers.

“Alright,” you answer.

Next part ->

[k3nz1ekorn]

Jayvik actor au

A short fic about if Jayce and Viktor were actors Joel and Vladamir in another univers. Author's note: credits are at the bottom of the post. I'll be writing more for this au as it comes to me ig.

“Let us do this once again…as partners!”

The silence fills the room as ‘Viktor’ grins down at ‘Jayce', his heart beats once, then twice, and he bursts into a fit of laughter, forehead falling onto his counterpart’s. Joel lets out a deep sigh from below him, and Viktor pulls back to give him a wide grin before turning his head to face the rest of the room. He raises a hand in apology, looking a little sheepish in his fits of laughter “Pfft- Sorry! Sorry everyone! Are we sure this is meant to be a fight scene?” As his laughter subsides he untangles his legs from where they are around Joel and leans himself back onto the table, careful to avoid jostling the green morph suit he’s donned in. The back of his hand coming up to try to stifle his laughter. It’s through barely open eyes that he sees Joel push himself up as well, giving a light stretch to his back after the uncomfortable position he was just held in. He shuffles around to face Vlad from the floor, looking up at him with a face he unfortunately knows all too well at this point.

“CUT!” The director yells, letting out an exasperated sigh. They break their shared look to give the man their full attention as he walks onto the set, “Alright let’s take a break and meet back in ten!” Turning to them he gives a pointed look, “Vlad, please be ready to actually finish the scene this time, hmm?” A bell rings and the room buzzes to life, people putting down equipment, conversations starting up, and Vlad finally looking back towards Joel, who looks wholly unamused by the situation. The director turns to walk away, intentionally ignoring the words that follow.

“I’m literally wrapped around him, like we all see that right?” Vlad says, hand gesturing lazily over to his…coworker. Yeah. Let's go with that. He shifts to accept a bottle of water from a staff member, mumbling a quick thank you before bringing his good leg up onto the table he sat on and resting an arm over his knee. His eyes fall back to Joel as he takes a drink of water. The other man is still sitting on the floor, now lazily leaning back onto his arms.

“V, if you keep this up they’re gonna get us an intimacy coordinator. And I don’t think I need to tell you that we do not need an intimacy coordinator.” He let a hand come up to rub his eyes in frustration at the thought. They’d been dating since the end of the first season, in private might he add, and the idea of having to tell anyone about their status because of this just felt like a hassle. “I get you’re giddy at the idea of more…touchy feely scenes, but you need to get it together here yeah?” He lifted his hand to look back at his partner, exasperation clear on his face. Truth be told he didn’t hate having to reshoot this scene, but the growing frustration of the rest of the cast and crew was not lost on him. Especially with this being the third or fourth try today alone. It was getting ridiculous to say the least.

“I know Joel I’m sorry, it’s just different! We were touchy in the first season, sure, but this is a lot different! The producer keeps telling us it’s platonic, brotherly and shit,” Vlad actively let a look of disgust come over his face as a light shiver went down his spine. “but I can’t act platonically with these scenes they're giving us.” He accentuates with a wave of his hand, spilling from his still open bottle before recaps it and sets it down beside him. “Plus I’m not ‘Giddy’ as you say,” he quotes the word with some playfulness, “I just think the relationship isn’t going to come off how they think, is all. It feels like I should lean into the romance, y'know?”

 Joel nods in understanding at that, while in the first season it was more up in the air for how they were meant play their characters, it definitely felt like a line had been crossed with the new scripting, all the love and banter of the first season with a new aura of…something more. Something that he personally would describe as romantic. He says his next words with a hint of a smile. “Then lean into it. If they don’t like it they’ll make us reshoot it and we’ll know that’s not the vision they want, end of story. If they don’t?” he shrugs and raises an eyebrow. He knows his partner understands what he’s getting at, he’s being extremely obvious after all. “No harm in just eh…testing a theory?” The last line gets him a light chuckle and grin from Vlad, who looks back at him with fondness and amusement. Vlad says his next words with a light shake of his head.

“I suppose you’re right, and isn’t that what got us cast in the first place? Playing the characters how we interpreted them?” He takes another sip from his water and gives his legs a quick stretch. Their break is almost over after all, it’ll be time to get back to it. “Besides, they don’t have to know that’s how I’m playing it, right? Those that get it will get it and those that don’t…are hopefully the executive producer.” He starts to slide off the table, the thin fabric doing little to keep the cold of the floor from reaching his feet. Joel moves to stand and takes the bottle from Vlad, quickly getting it off the set before the director calls them back. 

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Filming had wrapped up for the day, thankfully for both of them, and they were now on their way back home for the night. Or to Vlad’s home specifically. Joel’s driver had put up the privacy curtain not long after the trip had started, it was routine. About as routine as taking the turns he had grown accustomed to over the last…however long it had been, 10 months? A year? They’d only been together a year and a half but this had become regular quite a while before that, during the second half of their filming for season one actually. They hadn’t seen a reason for Joel to keep renting a place out here for filming when Vlad had an apartment so close to set. They could commute together to and from work, make sure the other ate proper meals off set, and even run lines. At least that’s what Vlad had said when he suggested it back then, in fact it’s still the excuse they use when people question them on why they take the same car to and from nearly all the same places every day. That it’s just more convenient. Most don’t believe that, but they don’t mind the speculation. The car ride is comfortable after the long day they’d had, especially once Vlad had gotten it together in the ‘fight’ scene they had. 

Joel was leant up against the door, head in his hand as he watched Vlad talk from his seat in the car. And oh boy was he talking. The corner of his mouth curled slightly as he listened intently, watching the others hands fly about as he went on.

“I can’t believe none of them picked up on the tone change. None! My mood, my facial expression, the way I was wrapped around you and still nothing!” Vlad had indeed decided to lean into the romantic tone they’d talked about previously for the scene, and as predicted it went off without a hitch. The rest of their scenes together that day had been only a few takes, including mess ups from other cast and crew. Joel easily caught one of his waving hands to gingerly bring it to his lips before placing it between them. Vlad instinctively closed his hand around the others, giving a gentle squeeze unknowingly. Joel gave his partner a blank stare.

“I hardly think nobody could tell. Did you see Viola? She was practically in the end frame on that last take, probably would have been if Cathrin wasn’t holding her back. She’s been waiting for us to start giving into the romantic angle more.” He paused to give a chuckle as the other man’s head turned to watch him speak, “And I do mean waiting, you remember during season one? The ‘crank it’ scene? Or when we were filming the opening scene for the season? We had to redo it three times because you could hear her outbursts in the background every time I so much as looked at you!” He let a smile creep up his face as he remembered. When they had initially gotten together they had of course told a few of their on screen friends, knowing it would be hard to keep something like this from them. Naturally a few of them had pushed for the men to let their off screen romance bleed into the way they portrayed their characters. 

“Yes yes yes, but the director? The producers? The ones who kept telling me to tone it down, dial it back? Them? No idea!” Vlad said in excitement. It was also true that in previous scenes they’d made it a bit too obvious that their intentions were to make the relationship romantic and a few of the wrong people had caught on. But how else were they meant to interpret it? ‘It was affection that held us together’? Really? Joel let out a small chuckle at the memory before turning his attention back to his counterpart. 

“I suppose so V, though I don’t think it’s too hard to fool them. Especially given how they literally wrote the damn thing with zero idea of how romantic it actually was.” he gazed at the other man from his seat opposite to him. Vlad, noticing the silence, also turned to look back. He gave a wide smile, eyes crinkling as he squeezed their hands tighter. The driver was close to his complex now. Joel blinked as another thought crossed his mind, “Although I must say, for a fight scene it was very…suggestive. I can’t say we haven’t been in positions quite similar to that.” a slightly darker tone overtaking him as he leaned in a bit. Vlad easily caught onto what the other was suggesting, and he moved his head closer to whisper back.

 “I must say I don’t know what you mean by that.” He smirked, eyes darting down to the others lips before moving back up to his eyes, his head tilting ever so slightly, “Though I wouldn’t be against a…reminder? Or two perhaps, hmm?” Joel moved his unoccupied hand to take his partner’s jaw in his fingers, bringing them together for a firm kiss. Their lips slotted together in a practiced ease, a light sigh leaving Vlad as Joel’s tongue flicked against his lower lip. The car stopped. The finger under Vlad’s jaw didn’t move as they broke apart, and a knowing, wanton look was shared between them as Joel leaned back and undid his seatbelt, Vlad breaking their contact to do the same.

“I’d be delighted to give a refresher.” They exited the car.

Inspo for this was from art by boopfq on tiktok and MessRedds on Twitter. I haven't written fanfiction (or anything) in like 5 years so if this seems meh don't worry about it. This is self indulgent bc these two are ruining my entire life and I need an outlet. I literally made a playlist it's getting so bad