crushh-existz

[crushh-existz]

college caitvi matching layout 🧁🥊

based on this tweet !! :D

some easter eggs : they both have k/da posters and cait has a seraphine one too (they’re both roomates), airship model because airship is cait’s special interest !! on vi’s corner of the room : isha’s drawing of their family, zaun band poster, jinx’ drawing, warwick plushie !!!

(border credit here)

MATCHING ICONS IF YOU WANT !! (reblog and credit if you use pls <3)

[crushh-existz]

they keep adopting strays it’s become a problem

[crushh-existz]

unexpected arrangementsˎˊ˗

You were a STEM major preparing to enter your hectic 3rd year of schooling and your housing situation was a disaster. The dormitories’ piping system got ruined two weeks before you were supposed to move in, leaving you without housing. When the school finally got its act together, they placed you in an apartment with a graduate student, Sevika. One who, you might add, was not happy at all with the abrupt living situation. You two, however, unexpectedly grew closer throughout the semester. fluff, kind of slow-burn, suggestive if you squint, no mention of sevika's mechanical arm, fem reader, modern au masterlist

It was rainy and cold when you moved into her apartment—well, now your apartment. Your furniture and hastily packed boxes of clothes had already been moved into the guest bedroom earlier that day.

By the time you returned with the last of your things—a tote bag full of books and a throw blanket bunched up in your arms—it was late. You stood outside the door, knocking repeatedly. The minutes dragged on, and your shoulder began to ache from the weight of the books. Your phone mockingly read 11:32 PM, and your irritation flared. Not only was the elevator out of service tonight, but the apartment you were now supposed to live in was on the fourth floor.

You were wet and cold from the rain, sweaty from the flights of stairs, and completely over it.

When your patience ran out, you dropped the bag and blanket to the floor with a loud thud, balled your fist, and banged on the door. Hard.

You didn’t make it to your sixth bang before the door flew open, leaving your mouth slightly ajar and your hand still raised. You hadn’t even heard her approach.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

There stood Sevika, your new roommate, wearing a fitted tank and loose sweats that clung low on her full hips. Her damp hair suggested she’d just showered, and a cigarette rested between her lips, which were now curled into a sneer. The muffled music from a room down the hall explained why she hadn’t heard you earlier.

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts as you cleared your throat. “Trying to get inside? I thought you knew I was moving in today.”

She scoffed, leaning against the doorframe and pulling the cigarette from her lips. “You mean tonight? It’s damn near midnight—you were supposed to be here earlier.”

Biting back a sharp response, you bent down to pick up the bag and blanket you’d dropped. Still, frustration colored your tone. “I have a lot of shit, okay? And not enough time to move in. This wasn’t exactly my idea either.”

Sevika’s eyes swept over your small frame, noting your damp hoodie and jeans clinging to your skin. Wet from the rain, sweaty from exertion, and visibly tired—you looked like a mess. She let out a dismissive scoff before pushing off the doorframe and stepping aside, leaving the door ajar.

“Leave your shoes and socks at the door,” she said, walking away without a backward glance. The door to her room shut behind her, and the music turned up.

You exhaled a sharp breath, annoyed. Here you were, kicked out of your familiar living arrangement to stay with someone who didn’t even want you here.

But why should you care? Sevika clearly regarded you as a pest—an intruder in her space. It stung a little, though. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being unwanted.

Inside, the apartment was warm and smelled faintly of sandalwood and cigarettes. You took a moment to inhale deeply, rubbing at the shoulder still aching from the weight of your bag. This arrangement was supposed to be temporary, but you couldn’t help but wonder what living with her would be like.

Sevika’s reputation preceded her. Popular among students and faculty in your department, she was as brilliant as she was intimidating. And undeniably attractive. Your thoughts strayed to the sight of her just now: damp hair, hooded eyes, the warm light framing her figure. Self-consciously, you flattened your rain-frizzed hair.

In the guest room—well, your room now—you took stock of your surroundings. The XL twin bed had thankfully been assembled earlier by the delivery people. A desk and chair had already been tucked into the corner near a window. A dresser and a decent-sized closet rounded out the furniture.

Peeling off your damp clothes, you changed into a fitted baby tee and shorts before tying up your hair. Determined to make the best of it, you got to work unpacking.

Sevika, back in her room, tried to focus on the project she was tinkering with for one of her professors. The faint thumps and rustling from the guest bedroom were hard to ignore, though. She was used to living alone, and your intrusion was a constant reminder of how her space was no longer hers alone.

Silco, the department director, had recommended her for this arrangement. His mentorship during her undergrad years meant she couldn’t say no. Still, she regretted the inconvenience. When the noises became too distracting, she turned down her music and padded down the hall.

Leaning against the doorframe, Sevika watched you move around the room with ease, unpacking and arranging your belongings. You had already transformed the empty guest room into something undeniably yours. The bed, far cozier than hers, was adorned with soft pillows and lush blankets that looked inviting enough to sink into.

Your closet was nearly full, your desk neatly organized with a laptop, folders, and a softly glowing candle. The warm scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the space, drifting into the hallway and subtly reaching Sevika’s senses.

Cozy, she thought. 

It was when you got down on your knees to grab something that rolled under the bed, giving her a full view of a dangerous arch and your ass clad in some thin shorts, that Sevika cleared her throat making her presence known.

Startled, you jumped, hitting your head on the bed frame. Groaning, you leaned back on your heels and looked up at her. Still standing in the doorway, she regarded you with mild amusement.

“Yeah?” Your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat suddenly feeling nervous.

“Just checking in.” Sevika stepped inside, casually leaning against your dresser and idly pushing around the small trinkets you’d arranged there. “Heard back from your RA yet?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you stood from the floor, brushing your hands on your thighs. “I just got settled in, and you’re already trying to get rid of me?” you quipped, disappearing into the closet.

A low, velvety chuckle followed. “No, sweetheart. Just wondering.” Her tone carried a playful lilt, making it impossible to ignore the nickname.

You poked your head out, eyebrows furrowed as you gave her a pointed look. “Oh? Were you just wondering when you so kindly welcomed me into your home?”

Your words were meant to sound annoyed, but the teasing edge in your voice drew another laugh from Sevika—a rich, pleasant sound.

“Sorry about that,” she said, her voice softer now. “Was just caught a little off guard.”

You waved off her apology with an easy smile. “It’s fine,” you replied, stepping out of the closet with a towel over your shoulder and toiletries in hand.

Walking up to her, you shot a quick look at the dresser behind her. Sevika stepped aside, watching as you picked out another pair of shorts and a sweatshirt—presumably for sleeping. You tried to ignore the warmth radiating off her body, the earthy scent that clung to her like a second skin.

Her gaze lingered on the curve of your hips as you nudged the drawer shut before turning back to her.

“Look, I know this whole situation was thrown on you out of the blue, and I get that it sucks,” you started, arms now full and ready for a shower. “But I hope we can at least get along, okay?”

Your voice softened, and you fidgeted slightly where you stood, waiting for her response. Nervousness crept in, unfamiliar and unwelcome. You usually didn’t care much about others’ opinions, but with Sevika, it was different. You were going to be living together. You wanted her approval—admiration, and maybe even something bordering on adoration. You didn't stress the specifics.

Sevika looked down at you, a flicker of amusement playing in her eyes. Truthfully, she felt a little bad about her earlier attitude. None of this was your fault, after all. And there was something endearing about the way you seemed eager to make things right for no reason other than to keep the peace.

You tilted your head, waiting for her answer, and in that moment, she decided you were harmless. And, to her surprise, quite cute.

Sevika reached out to ruffle your hair, her lazy smile sending a small flutter to your stomach. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” she teased, her voice low and amused. Turning to leave, she pointed casually in the direction opposite your room. “Shower’s that way.”

With that, she disappeared into her room, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and headed toward the bathroom. The warm spray of the shower worked to calm your nerves as you replayed the interaction in your mind. Sweetheart. You replayed the nickname in your head, enjoying the heat it brought to your face. Once finished, you stepped out, your discarded clothes and toiletries neatly tucked under your arm.

The apartment was quiet now, save for the faint sound of soft snores coming from Sevika’s room. Careful not to disturb her, you padded silently to your own space, feeling oddly content.

Behind the safety of your closed door, a small smile spread across your face. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for the unexpected living arrangement.

Over the semester, the two of you grew closer, slipping into a rhythm that felt effortless with time.

It wasn’t instant, though. Even as familiarity settled between you, it took time for both of you to let your guard down fully. Sevika was used to her solitude and didn’t adapt easily to sharing her space, while you were navigating your own uncertainties about living with someone like her—intimidating yet undeniably attractive.

Your mornings often overlapped. You woke early for your morning lectures, groggily shuffling into the kitchen to make coffee. Around the same time, Sevika would return from the gym, towel slung over her shoulder, her hair damp and her muscles taut beneath her tank. At first, those mornings were silent and awkward.

The first time you ran into each other in the kitchen, she gave you a simple nod before heading straight to her room without a word. It wasn’t exactly unfriendly—more like she didn’t know what to say to you. Casual friendships weren’t her thing. As popular as she was, Sevika kept most people at arm’s length, letting only a select few into her inner circle.

But over time, she got used to you. Your presence became a constant, a welcoming thing.

One morning, you came out to find a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you on the counter. “Figured you’d need it,” Sevika muttered gruffly, pouring herself a second cup. It became routine after that. She’d make you coffee alongside her own, sometimes tossing in a joke or a compliment just to see your reaction.

And when Sevika got comfortable, she reaaaally got comfortable.

One morning, as you leaned against the counter, sipping your coffee in your usual lecture-day outfit—minimal makeup, hair pulled back, and a casual outfit—Sevika smirked at you over her mug.

“You trying to seduce the professor or something?” she teased.

The comment, as absurd as it was, sent a laugh spilling out of you. Your cheeks flushed, and you shook your head, trying to hide your amusement. She savored the sound of your laughter, the soft pink blooming on your cheeks, and the way you bashfully avoided her gaze. The kitchen island became her favorite spot in the mornings—not only because of the shared coffees but because of you.

As you grew more comfortable with Sevika, you became touchy, something that caught her off guard at first. She wasn’t used to physical affection, but she didn’t mind it. In fact, she found it endlessly amusing—and secretly endearing.

If she said something funny and stood next to you, you’d bump your hip into hers with a smile. If she flirted or let her words stray into innuendo, your face would heat up, and you’d lightly punch her shoulder, muttering something to deflect. She called them “pats” because your punches barely registered as more than a breeze.

“Careful, sweetheart,” she’d tease, flexing her arm mockingly. “You’re really laying it on thick there.”

And when you flushed or rolled your eyes in response, Sevika would grin, leaning closer just to bask in your warmth. She couldn’t get enough of your reactions or your touch, growing addicted to the little ways you reached out to her.

What surprised her most was how natural it felt. For someone who always kept people at a distance, Sevika found herself leaning into your affection—and craving it.

Months had passed, and you and Sevika had fallen into a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. Your morning exchanges became something sacred, leaving you both buoyed through the day, while evenings transformed into a gentle dance of shared space - completing tasks side by side, conversations flowing easily between mundane matters and comfortable silences, occasionally punctuated by the soft glow of movie nights.

With her more flexible postgraduate schedule, Sevika had taken to preparing dinner for your return from grueling days of classes and studying. The first time you'd come home to the smell of cooking and the sight of her in the kitchen, you'd nearly tackled her with the force of your gratitude.

"Oof," she'd chuckled, steadying herself against your embrace. "Down, girl." The warmth in her voice had made something flutter in your chest.

You found your own ways to contribute, handling errands during your daily ventures around campus. Acts of service spoke volumes to Sevika, though she rarely voiced it directly. She didn't need to - you caught the way her eyes would follow you, filled with gratitude and something softer, something that made your skin tingle. When you'd return with groceries or mention completing a task she'd only briefly mentioned, something in her expression would shift, a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

The closeness between you had grown into something neither of you dared name. Affection flowed freely, moments of tenderness woven through your daily interactions without thought or hesitation. You'd catch her watching you when she thought you weren't looking, and you knew she caught you doing the same. It was almost romantic, really. But there lay the question - what were you supposed to do about it? The desire for something more simmered beneath the surface for you both, but you'd grown comfortable in this space between friendship and something else, sustained by flirting and fleeting touches that left electricity in their wake.

The call came during midterms, catching you off-guard. Sevika leaned in your doorway, watching as you exchanged polite words with housing administration. When you hung up, you attempted a smile, but she saw right through it.

"Something happen?" Her voice carried a note of concern that made your chest tight.

"Oh nothing bad, it's just-" You tugged your sweater closer, like armor. "My RA says I'm good to move back in."

You missed the flash of surprise across Sevika's features, catching only her soft "Oh."

A moment stretched between you before she found her voice again. "Well, that's... good?" The uncertainty in her tone drew your gaze to hers.

"Yeah, it's good." Neither of you sounded convinced. The soft click of her door closing echoed through the apartment, leaving you alone with thoughts of what you might be losing.

The next few days passed in a strange tension, both of you dancing around the subject of your eventual departure. Your belongings remained exactly where they were, neither packed nor discussed. The comfortable routine you'd built continued, but there was something fragile about it now, like glass ready to shatter at the slightest touch.

One evening, you returned from a particularly brutal study session to find Sevika in the kitchen, the familiar smell of your favorite meal filling the apartment. She was stirring something on the stove, her hair pulled back messily, wearing that old band t-shirt you loved seeing her in. The sight made your chest ache.

"You didn't have to cook tonight," you said softly, dropping your bag by the counter. "I know you have that big paper due."

She shrugged, not turning around. "Needed a break anyway. Besides," her voice carried forced lightness, "got to make sure you're well-fed while you're still here."

The words hung heavy between you. You moved closer, drawn by some invisible force, until you stood just behind her. "Sevika..."

She set the spoon down with more force than necessary. "When are you planning to move back?" The question came out rough, like it had been sitting in her throat for days.

"I..." you hesitated, watching the tension in her shoulders. "I don't have to."

She turned then, finding you closer than expected. Her eyes searched yours, a vulnerability there you'd never seen before. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," you wet your lips, gathering courage, "I could stay. If... if you want me to."

"You'd want that?" Her voice had dropped to barely above a whisper.

"I want..." The words caught in your throat as you realized just how close you were standing. "I want a lot of things."

Something shifted in her expression, her eyes dropping to your lips for just a moment. Her hand came up slowly, giving you time to pull away, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sent shivers down your spine.

"Tell me what you want," she murmured, her hand lingering near your face.

Instead of answering, you closed the distance between you. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but then her arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, and everything fell into place. She tasted like coffee and something sweetly familiar, and you couldn't help but smile against her lips.

When you finally pulled apart, she kept you close, pressing her forehead to yours. "Stay," she whispered, and it sounded like more than just an offer about housing.

"Okay," you breathed, and it felt like coming home.

The pot on the stove began to bubble over, breaking the moment. Sevika cursed and spun around to rescue dinner, but her free hand found yours, interlacing your fingers. You pressed a kiss to her shoulder, feeling her squeeze your hand in response.

Later that evening, curled together on the couch, you sent a quick email to housing declining the move-in offer. Sevika read it over your shoulder, her arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

"No regrets?" she asked, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

You turned in her arms, meeting her eyes with a smile. "Only that we waited so long."

The rest of the semester unfolded like a dream. Your morning exchanges became morning kisses, study sessions involved more breaks for cuddles, and movie nights found you tangled together under shared blankets. The line you'd been so carefully walking had finally been crossed, and on the other side, you found everything you'd been afraid to want.

Sometimes, catching her watching you with that soft expression you'd grown to love, you wondered how you'd ever considered leaving. This wasn't just an apartment anymore - it was home, and Sevika wasn't just your roommate. She was your beginning and your ending, your morning coffee and your goodnight kiss, your everything in between.

And neither of you would have it any other way.

this was originally supposed to be short headcanons but i love sevika and she has bewitched me, body and soul T_T i hope you enjoyed this

[crushh-existz]

Hello I’m back but with a properly formulated request!

Sevika x single mom? Head-cannons, drabbles ect, I’m not picky

Or, you and sevika had been dating a few months but she didn’t know you had a daughter. One day you invite her to your house for afternoon tea (and to meet your daughter)….sevika shows up early with flowers but it’s not you who opens the door, it’s a 5 year old?

-thank you! Pictures of my dog Milo will only be sent if you do this 💗💗💗

A LITTLE BIT OF SUGAR

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: After inviting Sevika to come to your house due to months of dating, you didn’t expect her to come early. So, without any knowledge and the doorbell ringing, you daughter answered instead, surprising Sevika entirely.

Request: @possessedmagpie

Sevika wasn’t nervous. Not exactly.

She tugged on the cuff of her jacket, the bouquet of flowers clutched in her other hand as she stood outside your door. This wasn’t a big deal—it was just tea at your place. Nothing she hadn’t done before, right?

Well, except it was the first time you’d invited her over.

The thought made her shift her weight, suddenly hyper-aware of the flowers in her hand. Were flowers too much? She didn’t usually do romantic gestures, but you brought something out in her—something soft and warm, something that wanted to try for you.

Taking a steadying breath, she knocked on the door. It opened almost immediately, but it wasn’t you standing there.

It was a kid.

A very small, very curious kid.

Sevika froze. The child blinked up at her with wide eyes, her head tilting as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

“Hi,” the little girl said, her voice bright and clear.

“Uh, ” Sevika’s mind blanked. She glanced down at the flowers, then back at the child. “Hi.”

The girl squinted at her, clearly unimpressed. “Who are you?”

“I’m…” Sevika glanced around as if looking for you to appear and rescue her. “I’m Sevika. Is—uh—is your mom home?”

The girl’s eyes lit up at that. “You’re here for Mommy?”

Sevika nodded, still not entirely sure what was happening.

The child seemed to consider this, then stepped back and opened the door wider. “Okay, come in! Mommy’s in the kitchen. I’ll show you!”

Before Sevika could react, the girl grabbed her free hand and started tugging her inside. The bouquet bobbed awkwardly in her grip as she let herself be dragged into the small, cozy apartment.

Sevika took it all in at a glance: the lived-in feel of the space, the faint smell of something cooking, the drawings taped up on the fridge. Her chest tightened as the realization hit her like a freight train.

You had a kid.

The girl plopped herself onto the couch and patted the seat next to her, looking up at Sevika expectantly. “Sit down! Mommy will be done soon. You can talk to me!”

Sevika sat stiffly, her brain still trying to catch up. She glanced down at the child, who was now inspecting the bouquet with open curiosity.

“Are those for Mommy?” the girl asked, reaching out to touch the petals.

“Yeah,” Sevika said, her voice coming out rougher than she intended. She cleared her throat. “For your mom.”

The girl grinned. “She’s gonna love them. She likes pretty things.”

Sevika found herself relaxing a little at the child’s enthusiasm. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. I’m Dahlia,” the girl said proudly. “What’s your name again?”

“Sevika.”

“Sevika,” Dahlia repeated, testing the word. “That’s a cool name.”

Sevika smirked despite herself. “Thanks, kid.”

Before Dahlia could launch into another round of questions, your voice called from the kitchen. “Dahlia, who’s at the door?”

“It’s Sevika!” Dahlia yelled back, making Sevika wince at the volume.

Your footsteps came quickly, and a moment later, you appeared in the doorway, holding a dish towel. The moment your eyes landed on Sevika, they went wide.

“You’re early,” you said, a hint of panic in your voice.

Sevika gave a sheepish shrug. “Yeah, I guess I—uh—caught you off guard.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I was going to… ease into this.”

Sevika’s brow furrowed. “Ease into what?”

You gestured toward Dahlia, who was now busy arranging the flowers in a vase she’d found on the coffee table. “This. Her.”

Sevika stared at you, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form a response. “You didn’t tell me you had a kid.”

“I know,” you said quickly, stepping closer. “I wanted to. I just didn’t know how.”

Sevika exhaled sharply, leaning back against the couch. “That’s a lot to spring on someone.”

“I know,” you repeated, your voice softer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

Dahlia looked up from her flowers, oblivious to the tension in the room. “Mommy, Sevika’s really nice! She let me smell the flowers!”

You managed a small smile, crouching down beside her. “That’s very sweet of her, isn’t it?”

Dahlia nodded enthusiastically, and you turned back to Sevika, your eyes searching hers. “Can you stay? Just for a little while? I’ll explain everything. Please.”

Sevika hesitated, her gaze flicking between you and Dahlia. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah. I can stay.”

Lunch was a strange mix of awkwardness and warmth. Dahlia’s endless chatter filled the silences, her stories ranging from her favorite cartoons to the adventures of her stuffed bear, Mr. Bubbles.

Sevika found herself drawn into the conversation despite her initial discomfort. Dahlia had a way of demanding attention in a way that felt familiar—like a certain blue-haired girl Sevika had once known.

“You’re good with her,” you said quietly when Dahlia ran off to grab a book she wanted to show Sevika.

Sevika snorted. “You think so?”

“I do,” you said, your gaze soft. “I was worried… about how this would go. But you’re handling it better than I expected.”

Sevika shrugged, glancing toward the hallway where Dahlia had disappeared. “She’s a good kid. Reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Jinx?”

“Yeah.” Sevika’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “She used to follow me around all the time as a kid, asking a million questions. Drove me crazy back then, but I guess I got used to it.”

You smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “Thank you. For staying.”

Sevika’s fingers curled around yours, her grip firm but gentle. “I’m not going anywhere.”

After lunch, Dahlia insisted Sevika help her draw. You watched from the kitchen as they sat on the living room floor, crayons scattered between them.

“Your coloring is terrible,” Dahlia declared, pointing at Sevika’s attempt at a flower.

Sevika raised an eyebrow. “You could just say thank you.”

Dahlia giggled, leaning over to “fix” the drawing. “There. Now it’s pretty.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sevika muttered, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

You leaned against the counter, your heart swelling at the sight. Sevika didn’t just tolerate Dahlia—she engaged with her, teasing and listening in a way that felt effortless. It was more than you’d dared to hope for.

When Dahlia finally ran out of steam and curled up on the couch with Mr. Bubbles, you and Sevika found yourselves alone in the quiet living room.

“She likes you,” you said softly, sitting beside her.

Sevika smirked. “Yeah? How can you tell?”

“She doesn’t usually let anyone touch her crayons,” you teased.

Sevika chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Well, I’m honored.”

You leaned into her, your head resting against her chest. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for. And if it’s too much—”

“Don’t,” Sevika said firmly, cutting you off. “I’m here. I want to be here. Okay?”

You nodded, your throat tightening with emotion.

Sevika tilted your chin up, her gaze steady and warm. “You and her? You’re a package deal. I get that. And I’m in.”

Tears pricked your eyes, but before you could respond, Sevika leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. It was slow and grounding, a silent promise you felt in every inch of your being.

When she pulled back, you smiled up at her, your fingers brushing against the scar on her cheek. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

Sevika smirked. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The sound of Dahlia’s soft snores filled the room, and for the first time in years, you felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

A/N: This was such a cute request and I’m mad that I couldn’t expand it more (struggled a bit and working on the headcanons with other requests). Hope you enjoy it though :)!

[crushh-existz]

ufff my babies

[crushh-existz]

COSMIC ✧˖*°࿐

| au!powder x fem!reader

| wc: 6.4k

| summary: being in love with your best friend becomes complicated

| content/warnings: men dni, no mention of y/n, best friends to lovers, bestfriend!ekko, set in ep 7 au except vi and cait are alive and thriving (pretend they all survived that explosion), basically everyone is alive and well apart from powder&vi's parents LMAO, kind of wrote this as a cope, possibly ooc powder (and cait), r and powder are both oblivious, mentions of anxiety and poor mental health, alcohol mentioned briefly, slightly angsty, fluff, kissing/making out, slightly suggestive, lazy writing

After a long day at the academy, you wanted to do absolutely nothing but crawl into bed and avoid any social interaction until you’re inevitably forced to face reality again. That option however, was no longer available since you’d done that enough times the past few weeks for the label of social recluse to become a little too fitting. So here you found yourself, at The Last Drop, doing the second best thing, people-watching whilst Powder worked behind the bar. 

Vi and Cait were currently engrossed in what looked to be the most engaging, riveting conversation across the bar, Vi’s arm slung around Cait’s shoulder, carding the midnight blue strands through her fingers periodically, Cait’s hand settled on Vi’s thigh in return. But to the carefully trained eye of a self-proclaimed people-watcher (in the least creepy way possible), and in general how accustomed you’ve become to Cait and Vi, you know they were having the most casual exchange about the silliest thing ever, they’re just so wrapped up in their own bubble, seriously, if it was possible you’d actually believe you could physically see the hearts floating around them - they were completely and entirely enamoured with each other. But it was the look in their eyes that struck you unexpectedly with a sickening sense of yearning. It filled you with inexplicable joy to see someone you’d grown up alongside, with an unspeakably painful past and admittedly not-so-easy upbringing, get to be happy and doted on. If anyone deserved that it was Vi and her huge heart, after putting everyone before herself her entire adolescence. And Caitlyn, though she and Powder may not have got along like a house on fire in the beginning, had won over everyone’s hearts eventually. Her heart was always in the right place, and she was constantly surrounded by such a warm energy, it was impossible to not be open and comfortable around her. Involuntarily, every time you thought about it you found yourself aching for a connection like theirs. Sure, you were a tiny bit envious, but it gave you that glimmer of hope. With who? Well. 

A damp cloth thrown at your shoulder pulled you out of your whirlwind. 

“Hey toots, still here?” Powder said, settling at your side. 

Powder. When your parents’ lives were lost in the war, Benzo had kindly taken you under his wing when you had no family to turn to. Ekko had quickly befriended you, and the two of you remained close in the present. Of course, as Ekko often hung around Vi, Claggor, Mylo and Powder, they were all introduced to you and a bond had been inevitably struck. From an early age you and Powder had clicked, the pair of you naive and bright-eyed, brimming with excitement and potential. Your shared interests and passions had led you both to study at the academy, where you remained glued to each other's sides, if there was one of you around, anyone who knew the two of you, was well aware that the other would be lingering close by. 

So what was different? As of late, being in her proximity had begun to make an uncomfortable feeling twist around your spine and find its home in you. You had spent countless restless nights, racking your brain of the timeline of events that could have possibly led up to this. Maybe it was the air, the weather, the holiday spirit? It was to no avail, however, as you simply couldn't pinpoint when or where this feeling had crept in. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the way that you didn’t want to be around Powder, no, rather, it was the opposite. You couldn’t stay away. And your dynamic didn’t help, you spent nearly every waking moment together, and even then often slept in her presence too. But it terrified you. The two of you, in many of your plentiful late night oil burning sessions, had spoken in depth of the fear of change in many contexts. You’d never explicitly talked about it in regards to your friendship, but that went without saying. Change couldn’t happen. You didn’t want it to either, right? You repeated the mantra to lull yourself to sleep on such harrowing nights. It won’t happen. You were at a loss, but you knew you wouldn't give up what you had for the world, so it was buried as well as you could.

“Umm, space girl, I’m pretty sure I’m not talking to myself over here,” Powder snarked, pulling you once again from your spiralling, a teasing grin on her face.

“Huh?” You replied, still dazed, pulling the cloth off and playing with it absentmindedly in your hands before finally meeting her eyes. “I mean yeah, I was just waiting here till you got off.”

Your gaze impulsively drifted back to the couple again, their foreheads pressed together now as tipsy giggles were shared between the two. 

“Well good news, sugar, Vander let me off early,” she returned in a sing-song tone, shooting you a strange look at your disorientated behaviour before following your line of vision and landing on the pair. She scrunched her nose slightly in mock disgust before letting out a soft sigh. 

“Positively sickening, aren’t they.”

“Right. I don’t know how many me and who’s I have left in me anymore,” you shared, before shaking your head slightly as if to finally pull yourself away. 

Powder’s gaze turned back to you at that, a few seconds of silence as your words settled. An unfathomable expression crossed her face, before a small smile settled on her lips. 

“Wanna get out of here?” she said, your attention fully returned to her as she held out her arm. 

“Lead the way, captain,” you affirmed, linking your arm with her inviting one, leaning into her warmth as her smile widened, knowing another quiet night unwinding in her hideout is just what the both of you needed.  

Idle chatter over the hum of the night occupied your minds and tongues until you reached Powder’s beloved workshop, whereby you both threw down your belongings and settled on the couch to watch the lights wrapping the lanes in that soft, familiar golden glow. 

“I would so not!” Powder shrieked indignantly, watching as you double over in laughter. 

“You would! I see it now, you in a fancy white lab coat somewhere topside, tinkering away-”, you added, giggling at the ridiculous image in your head of future mad scientist Powder. 

“Not!” she interrupted, entirely opposed to your idea. 

“Would! I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you discovered something like magic, somehow,” you said, though there’s a serious element to your teasing. She’s a genius, there’s no doubt in your mind that she could if she put her mind to it.

“Not gonna happen,” she replied, rolling her eyes though a faint blush at your incessant teasing formed across her cheeks. 

“Maybe in another universe, then.”

“Hm,” she tilted her head, and turned back to you, shoulder brushing yours. “Where are you in all this then?”

“Hmmmm,” you put your finger to your chin in mock wonder, “you probably cracked some code and figured out how to fuse us together so we actually never separate,” you joke. 

Powder looked at you for a moment before finally cracking, the sweet sound of her unfiltered laughter hitting your ears and filling your heart with its warmth. 

“Okay, that sounds more like me now,” she replied once the laughter subsided, head finding a place on your shoulder. That squeamish feeling resurfaced for a moment at the tenderness of her contact, but you brushed it off as quickly as it arrived, leaning in to her.

“Told ya.”

“Maybe, but…,” she unexpectedly spoke up again. Her blue eyes find yours as you silently encourage her to expand on her thought. “Sure, Zaun isn’t perfect,” she carried on quietly, slightly leaning up to rest her chin on your shoulder. You shivered slightly. “And yeah, maybe I do want to do things but I’d do them for the sake of this place, to improve the quality of life here. I’m happy here. With everyone. With you. I’d want to do it with you,” she finished, eyes searching yours, as if awaiting your reaction. Your heart skipped several beats, you swore, how would you live if she continued to throw out such heartfelt statements in a casual conversation?

“Hell yeah, you would,” you finally managed to get out, eyes still on her face, “and I’d be right there throughout, like your little cheerleader.”

The intensity of the moment dissipates with Powder’s snort at your reply . “Always the sap, toots,” she opts for, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer as the drowsiness begins to fall over the two of you.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was a few weeks later when you, Powder and Ekko found yourselves poring over blueprints for a project in the early hours of the night. The Last Drop had closed early, courtesy of it being a weekday and the cold weather. The three of you were the only people sat at a table inside, Vander having trusted Powder to lock up responsibly.

Ekko let out a loud sigh as he leaned back in his chair. “I wonder when this’ll finally end.”

You hummed in agreement, the hours spent grinding away wearing away at your patience. “The Innovator’s Competition is less than a month away, we’ll have to have it done before then. I can’t wait though.” You mimicked Ekko, slouching back in your chair. 

“It can’t just be a throwaway project. It has to be perfect,” Powder ran her hands through her hair frustratedly, the half-up-and-down-do hanging on for life. You and Ekko groaned in sync at that, you’d been at it for hours and though you shared the same perfectionist ideas about the project, she’d been particularly antsy today. 

“Look, maybe we should wrap it up for today. Revisit it tomorrow with a fresher mind,” you offered, stretching out your legs. 

Powder nodded in relent. Ekko leaned up, instantly beginning to pack away his things. “Yeah, you can say that again,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna head home now. You coming with?” he looked to you for your response, though the teasing smile on his face told you he was already aware of your answer. 

“No,” you replied, observing Powder's worn-out figure, “I think I’m gonna hang around for a bit. I’ll catch you later though, Ekko.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder, turning to you both as he began to walk out. “Night then, don’t stay up firing your brain cells for too long!” 

You and Powder both snickered at that, waving him off. A comfortable silence blanketed the pair of you as you began packing away the day’s work, hands brushing ever so often. Powder stood up eventually, brushing herself off and walked up to the window overlooking the streets of Zaun.

“Oh my god!” She suddenly whispered excitedly, turning her head to you with a  delighted grin. Your heart twisted in your chest. “C’mere, look!”

You pushed yourself off the chair at her command, quickly approaching where she stood at the long window. Sure enough, a dusting of snow had crowned the lanes of the city, countless snowflakes continuing to make their home on the surroundings that were fortunate enough to be above ground and not sunken under. Powder’s eyes remained fixated on the side of your face as you watched, fascinated.

“Snow,” you breathed out, “it’s beautiful.” Snow was rare in Zaun, the last time you remembered seeing it vaguely was an impromptu visit to Piltoever when you were much younger, so it was an entirely exciting experience witnessing it now.

“Right,” she mumbled in reply, her stare returning to the landscape. 

“We absolutely have to go out!” You said, enlivened once again by the weather, running to grab something warm enough to step out in. Powder turned around, watching your rapid movement. 

“What, right now??” she replied sceptically, though her actions betrayed her as she copied you, picking up the coat she’d shed earlier.

“Umm, yes. You’re not arguing with me on this,” you shot back adamantly, already wrapping a scarf around your exposed neck and halfway out. Powder rolled her eyes in response, despite the fond smile adorning her lips. 

Regret. That’s what you were beginning to feel, crouching behind the fence of a small plot of land, hiding from Powder’s impromptu snowball attack. All thoughts of the troubles of your project entirely forgotten as she threw herself into a stubborn fight. You were out of breath by the time you had even managed to lob one back at her. There was no way this was fair game, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation. A rustle nearby broke you out of your thoughts, and a lump of snow hitting your arm had you fleeing from your place of refuge, jumping over the fence and onto the snow-covered land.

“There’s no running from me, sucker!” Powder’s cackle sounded through the night, footsteps close behind you as you narrowly dodged another hit. 

“Give me a chance at least!” You yelled back, refusing to glance behind. You had almost outrun her when the inevitable happened, and you landed on the blanketed ground with a thud. Unfortunately for you, Powder had been much closer behind you than you had anticipated, so when you were knocked down, she’d crash landed on top, her legs entrapping your body. 

“Ughhh…” she sounded out after as she leaned up a little on her elbows. She brushed the overgrown bangs out of her face, hair completely wild now. Her eyes scrutinised your face, assessing for any damage. “You good?” she asked tentatively, worry flickering over her face. 

All you could do was nod in response. Any words that you had ready at your disposal had all vanished at the unexpected proximity, and though at the initial impact your bones had been chilled, you now felt an overwhelming burning sensation everywhere. Her hand slowly reached out towards your cheek, brushing away the snowflakes that had settled there. Okay, now your heart was actually going to be catapulted out of your chest with its vicious thumping. Her gaze remained centred on your face, before she leaned in closer. 

“Gotcha,” she murmured, watching your reddening face as she broke into laughter, finally relenting and sitting up. Despite your quiet sigh of relief, your body instantly craved the contact lost. You shook your head before sitting up a little, watching as she occupied herself with making a snow angel besides you.

“Cheater,” you finally grumbled out, though your words had no bite. 

“Won fair and square toots, accept it or not!” Powder quickly retorted, offering you her hand as a grip as she towered above you now, a goofy grin on her face at her so-called victory. 

Up in her hideout, you busied yourself setting up a cover and a blanket on the floor of Powder’s makeshift bedroom whilst she finished up changing in her closet. You were half way through tucking yourself in when Powder re-entered, eyes searching for you in confusion before landing on your figure on the floor. 

She threw herself on the bed before throwing you a puzzled look. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Just…thought I’d be better off here tonight,” you replied, looking up at her and trying your best to keep a casual tone. 

“Okay,” her eyebrows furrowed in further doubt, “but why?”

At the beginning of your friendship, when you’d grown comfortable enough to be able to stay over, you’d began by setting out blankets and pillows on the floor whilst she slept on the bed, though she’d offered it to you and was turned down countlessly. This routine had carried on for only a short while though, because with how drawn to each other you were you’d quickly been able to feel safe enough to sleep in the same bed. As of recent though, that godforsaken feeling you were hoping would fade away on its own had only grown stronger, as if it was feeding off any interaction and proximity you had with Powder. Suffice to say, it had become the subject of many overthinking sessions spent in your own bed, tossing and turning tirelessly. It would of course be entirely amplified lying besides her, but you’d sucked it up and taken it for a spell. Tonight, however, after the earlier event you had barely recovered from - seriously, you think your heart needs to be professionally checked - you took it upon yourself to take to the floor, too afraid of the intensity of the alternative.

At your unintentional silence in response to her question, Powder frowned, turning away and lying down. “Okay, if you want your space, I get it. G’night,” she said softly, facing away from you.

You laid down, stomach twisting at the thought of her thinking you were upset at her, knowing that was often the conclusion she jumped to when you were slightly distant or off with her. You wanted to reach out, comfort her, assure her she had done nothing wrong, but a meek goodnight was all you could offer before you similarly turned away and closed your eyes. 

You couldn’t tell how many hours had passed, or if any had passed at all but your unease was relentless, you’d almost nodded off about ten times already before your body would pull you out of almost-slumber and leave you awake with your troubling thoughts again. A combination of guilt and the freezing cold seeping into every bone in your body was going to keep you up all night, you acknowledged as you resigned to your fate, turning to lay flat on your back. 

A shifting in the sheet from the bed above interrupted the silence, Powder’s similarly sleep deprived figure peered down at you, a disgruntled expression on her face.

“Okay,” she rasped, “this is ridiculous. Come here.” She held out the blanket, inviting you in. 

Fuck it, there wasn’t a second of hesitation in the way you got up and crawled in, instantly calmed by the warmth her body offered. Who were you to say no to that? All feelings of discomfort and fear and anything in between melted away under her touch. Drowsiness finally draped over the two of you, her arm coming to rest over your waist and her head nestled in the crook between your neck and shoulder, blue locks tickling your cheek.

“Silly,” she mumbled into your neck, the last words that were spoken before sleep fell over you both. 

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“Well, you look rough,” are the first kind words that tumble out of Ekko the next morning when you reluctantly enter Benzo’s workshop for your shared shift. 

“Wow thank you, buster, how kind,” you grumbled, coming behind the counter to take a seat next to Ekko. Working at Benzo’s wasn’t terrible, and even though it was only the three of you usually running the ship, it was manageable. Besides, haggling with clueless customers alongside Ekko usually provided good entertainment. Just not this morning, not after the tumultuous storm brewing in your head. 

The gentle smell of lavender hit you, before Ekko handed over a warm cup of herbal tea. You accept it gratefully, raising it to your lips and facing the door, and whatever else the day may bring. 

“Are you seriously not going to tell me what’s up?” Ekko sighed out exasperatedly.

“Nothing, dude, seriously,” you turned back to him, nervous at how easily he can always read you. “Just got a lot on my mind right now.”

“A problem shared is a problem halved is a problem solved, as the Professor puts it,” he quipped back playfully, prodding your forearm. 

“There’s no way you’re quoting the Professor to me right now,” you deadpanned, shooting him a look. 

“What I mean to say is, it’ll probably help if you talk it out, ” Ekko carried on, “besides I always tell you shit! This is only fair.”

You rolled your eyes lightheartedly, before relenting. “Fine, it’s just Pow-” Your sentence is interrupted with Ekko’s stifled laugh.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Okay, what the fuck is that about?”

“Nothing!” he straightened his expression quickly, prompting you to carry on. 

You shot him a final warning look before hesitantly carrying on. Fuck it, you’re this far in now, might as well spill. “I don’t know. I can barely keep my composure around Powder anymore. I can’t figure out what’s shifted.”

Ekko smiled in understanding before patting your shoulder. “That, my friend, is what happens when you hold it in for too long.” 

“What?!!”

“What!” he held his free hand up in mock surrender, “I’m just saying, it’s so obvious to anyone in the vicinity of you both that there’s something there. Seriously, a charge that could rival the strongest of currents,” he shook his head, a playful grin on his face he didn't hold back.

“It’s not like that for her. Well at least, I don’t think so,” you groaned, head in your hands. “Anytime I think a move might be made, it’s snatched away. But at the same time every thing we do is the same as it’s always been, just…intensified.”

“Well, I can’t speak for her,” Ekko replied contemplatively, “but what I do know is you just need to have an honest conversation about how you feel, and where you stand.” 

“When did you become so wise?” you muttered, looking up at him full of genuine gratefulness.  

“When did you both become so blindly oblivious?” he shot back boldly, returning your grin. Your comeback was stifled by the entrance of your first customer of the day, the familiar bell of the door sounding through the shop as they made their way to the counter. 

“And for the record, can I just say I fucking knew it,” Ekko enthused under his breath as you got up to greet the customer. 

“Ekko!”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was later that day when you decided to suck it up and take Ekko’s advice. How bad could it really go, the conversation was going to be inevitable at some point if you wanted to retain your sanity. Trekking through the light snow to The Last Drop, where you knew Powder would be working tonight didn’t take too long, but long enough for all the anxious thoughts to resurface. Your head was already boiling by the time you took a seat at the bustling bar.  

Vander looked up at the sound of you pushing the stool in. “Hi kid,” he chuckled fondly at your tired wave as a form of greeting. He turned away for a second, gesturing to Powder at the other end of the bar counter of your arrival.

“Oh hey, pretty lady, come here often?” Powder teased mock-seductively the moment her eyes landed on your tense figure, walking to stand across from you. You tried your best to act normal, but the way your heart was doing flips in your chest as she poured a fruity drink and pushed it towards you was becoming extremely hard to ignore.

“Hey Pow,” you replied softly, taking the drink gratefully. She shot Vander a look, wordlessly asking for a break so she could be closer. Vander obliged without a second of hesitation with a wave of his hand, as Powder made her way to the front of the bar, taking a seat next to you. 

“I’m going to need you to do that haircut soon, trinket,” she huffed, blowing away the long, overgrown bangs that refused to be pinned into the two space buns she currently had hair pulled into. Powder had swore she would never go to Zaun’s infamous barber again, after her disastrous last visit that ended with extremely choppy bangs. You still thought they were adorable, and with her face she could absolutely pull it off. But that was you, and you were perhaps a little biased. Since then, she’d only entrusted you with scissors near her hair, and had mentioned another haircut briefly earlier this morning when you’d awoken in her room. 

“Okay, I’ll come over and do it soon,” you returned, never one to turn down her requests. The piece of hair flew down again, and this time your hand automatically reached out to tuck it behind her ear. The boldness of your action didn’t register until you accidentally brushed her cheek, which was blazing under her fiery blush. Fuck. You couldn’t do it, you thought, as all plans of health communication flew out the window. You’d resign yourself to playing this game for the rest of your life if you had to, but you were convinced you’d never have the courage to even think about being more with her, hurt you as it might. You quickly dropped your hand as fast as it had reached towards her, oblivious to the way Powder chased your touch. 

“Oh! Almost forgot!” Powder perked up, the tension of the moment snapping with her exclamation. “Here,” she opened up your palm, pushing something miniscule ino it. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at her in confusion. She didn’t speak, just nodded at you as if to encourage you to look. You opened your palm, and there sat a snow globe. It was obviously handmade, her love and care clearly poured into it. You shook it, watching as the blizzard inside swirled around the landscape before settling, two miniscule figures of the two of you in the middle. A strong sense of emotion, intensified by the months of containing it, crashed over you as you stared at it in awe, and you were dismayed to find tears prickling at your eyes so quickly. 

“I love it,” you managed to choke out, meeting Powder’s adoring grin. 

“I’m glad,” she replied genuinely, before realising you were at the verge of tears. Her hands found your shoulders, attempting to ground you. “Whoa there, trinket. It’s just a snowglobe, what’s wrong?” her eyebrows drawn together in concern.

“Feels different,” you mumbled out, free hand coming up to wipe away your vulnerability. 

Powder was stumped at that, worried gaze still roaming over your flushed face. She pulled her arms away from where they’d just been placed on your shoulders, and tentatively took your hand in hers. “It’s not,” she opted for, “nothing’s different, nothing changed okay?” 

The blood drained from your face at that, your body throwing itself into another whirlwind of emotions at the implication of her words. You knew she was just saying what she thought would be the best response to your nonsensical statement, but it didn’t hurt any less. 

“I know,” you eventually replied quietly, gingerly squeezing her hand instead of acknowledging the anxious frown that had settled over her face. 

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

Since that night, you hadn’t seen Powder for the majority of the next three days, and when you had hung out between that time, it was to work on the upcoming project as a trio. This had already slightly confused Powder, though it might have been a normal amount of time to have hung out, it was definitely out of the usual for you two, who had often been told by Vander, Silco and others alike, that you were actually joined at the hip. But what had actually thrown Powder into bewilderment was how you had rushed off home after insisting you had a lot of work to do, instead of staying past hours together as was so often your routine. She was struck between feeling distraught at the idea she had upset you somehow, and guilty at letting her mind run wild when it could be down to wanting your personal space. Come to think of it, you had been acting weird for a while now.

In an attempt to quieten the voices and to gain some peace of mind, Powder found herself in a place she would not often come alone. Piltover. She slipped the spare key she had been entrusted with into the keyhole of her sister and her sister’s girlfriend’s shared house, making her way over to the kitchen table. She laid her head on the surface, welcoming the cooling feeling. No one seemed to be home, which Powder was grateful for, as she didn’t think she’d have a good excuse as to why she’d dropped by so suddenly and unannounced. 

“Hello??” A voice sounded through the silence of the kitchen, it seemed her wish was not granted. 

Powder reluctantly raised her head and propped up her elbows, resting her face on her hands in an attempt to look as nonchalant as possible. 

“Powder?” Caitlyn asked incredulously, as if her eyes were deceiving her, though she quickly crossed the room to sit across from her, a twinkle in her eye. 

“The one and only,” Powder answered with a toothy grin despite herself.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Caitlyn quipped, reaching out for the orange juice carton and two cups. 

Powder’s eyes flicked around the room anxiously at that, biting at her lower lip. She hadn’t anticipated answering to anybody right now, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise with the heavy thoughts weighing down on her. Maybe she would regret opening up so easily, kick herself later, but as Caitlyn offered her a glass, there looked to be no better option than to share what had been preying on her mind. 

“...And she’s been off with me since! I don’t know what I can do to make things right if I don’t know what I did wrong…” Powder finished her run-through of troubling events, her hands thrown up in the air to punctuate her sentence. 

“Sweetheart, you need to know there’s nothing you’ve done wrong. And she doesn’t think that either,” Caitlyn replied thoughtfully, searching for her next words as Powder watched in anticipation, “all this just seems like…some miscommunication. To me that night at the bar was her probably trying to tell you she likes you, in all honesty.”

The drink Powder had taken a sip of constricted her lungs hearing Caitlyn’s response, saving herself at the last second with choked out coughs. Caitlyn flashed her a look of wild concern as Powder gathered herself together. 

“What?” she asked, her voice hoarse. 

Caitlyn broke into a giggle at her shock at something that she thought was entirely obvious, even before this from her own observation. She raised her palm, hand coming over to lay on top of Powder’s own carefully. 

“You know for someone that’s such a well-known genius, you sure do miss what’s right in front of your eyes, and everyone else’s,” she teased lightheartedly. 

Powder’s face scrunched up at her statement. “Fuck, I thought I was doing a good job hiding. Am I really that obvious?” 

“The both of you are, I’m afraid,” Caitlyn laughed. 

“And how do you just know all this shit?” Powder retorted.

“Let's just say I've played this game before,” Caitlyn replied, blue eyes glimmering.

“What? Don't tell me my sister put you through that-”

“Now why the hell was I not invited to this party?” The sound of Vi’s voice rang through the kitchen as she sauntered towards them. Placing a kiss on Caitlyn’s cheek, she turned to Powder and engulfed her in a hug, arms wrapping around her shorter frame tightly. Powder’s eyes widened as she returned the embrace, not expecting the sudden display of affection. 

“Uff, what was that for?” Powder exclaims as Vi finally released her, but not before ruffling through her choppy locks. 

“Can I not hug my baby sister?” Vi grumbled playfully, standing back at Caitlyn’s side as a warm smile spread across the latter's face at the sight of the siblings’ antics. Playful bickering was passed between the pair, before Powder straightened up as if remembering herself, ready to leave. 

“Leaving so soon? You only just got here,” Vi lamented as Powder began bidding her goodbyes. 

“I’ve got…something to do. I’ll be back soon, sis,” Powder promised, before turning to Caitlyn with a warm smile, “and thank you, Cait,” she said, hoping she conveyed the genuinity of her thankfulness.

“Any time, Powder,” Caitlyn shot her a knowing smile back as she took her final leave. 

The house fell back into a content silence as Vi snaked an arm around Cait’s waist, looking at her puzzled. “Did I miss something?”

“You, my dear," Cait pressed a victorious kiss to Vi's cheek, mimicking her early move, “have just lost a bet.” 

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“Thank the gods!” You declared, Ekko nodding vigorously in agreement as the pair of you wrapped up to leave, after a particularly productive session finalising your project. Everything was finally coming together, all the hard work beginning to pay off. Powder had suggested the meeting be in her hideout today, but she’d been uncharacteristically quiet and on edge all evening. You shot her a look now, subtly trying to check up on her. Your heart stuck in your throat when she met your gaze suddenly, clearly needing to say something. You looked away abruptly, ever since that night your emotions had been going haywire around her even more. She’d talk when she was ready. Just as you were about to step out with Ekko, thinking you were in the clear, her hand wrapped around your forearm, holding you in place.

“Can… Can you stay? Just for a bit,” Powder swiftly asked, trying her utmost best to not sound like she was pleading. 

You looked at Ekko for a second, finding he was already looking at you, eyebrow raised in question. He’d been under the impression that you’d already talked, though it was clear to him now that was not the case. You turned back to Powder, who was awaiting your response in apprehension. 

“See ya later, dudes,” Ekko said cheerfully, and you swore you saw the smirk flashing across his features before he circled around and left, leaving you no time to even attempt to argue. 

“Umm…sure, Pow,” you spoke softly, your arm released from her grip. Her eyes softened at the use of her nickname from you, shoulders relaxing slightly. “What’s up?”

Fuck, Powder hadn’t thought that far. She’d just seen you leaving, and the thought of you slipping out of her grasp and no longer near her had made her panic. 

“Will you cut my hair, please?” she managed to save herself, sighing in relief as you silently agreed and followed her back over to an area of her hideout.

Once you were both situated on the floor, you sat on your knees in front of her mirroring her own position, combing through her brightly coloured locks in preparation for the cut. Silence fell over you. Though this would be normal on any other occasion, cutting her hair was usually chaotic, with Powder squirming and moving around too much, you shrieking at her to stop said movement before you gave her a haircut that was so terrible it’d rival the dreaded barber’s. This silence wasn’t your usual comfortable silence, it was full of things left unsaid on both of your sides, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

You tried to ignore the wild thumping of your heart at the closeness of your current position, combing the bangs across her forehead. The way her eyes traced over every one of your features so thoroughly was certainly doing nothing to help. Every one of Powder’s intentions to talk to you properly tonight were rapidly vanishing from her head, the words stuck in her throat. And yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off you. 

The thought of all the feelings she’d had over the past few months, not too different from your own, came back to her now - the nights she had spent overthinking, the fear of losing you, the fear of change, the doubts she’d had, everything was suddenly too overwhelming as she took the comb you were using out of your hand and placed it down. Your eyes widened with astonishment as she brought her hands to either side of your face, leaning her forehead against yours. The fear of you not reciprocating how she felt was drowned out by the overwhelming desire to be close to you, to taste you. 

“What are you doing?” you dared to murmur, pulse rate quickening. 

Powder let out a shaky breath, her eyes quickly darting from your eyes to your lips and back again. You were pretty convinced you were about to explode. 

“Please, tell me you want this as much as I do,” she pleaded quietly, lips brushing yours. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” you whispered back. The sentence had barely left your mouth before Powder connected her lips to yours. You immediately reciprocated, her warm lips pressing deeper against you as she tugged you closer. Your hands went to tangle in her hair, haircut long forgotten. She hummed approvingly, fingers running over your cheekbone, every single doubt and fear between you melted away by the passion of her touch.

When you finally had to pull away to breathe, her forehead rested against yours, eyes bright as she scanned over your equally delighted face. “I’ve always loved you, and that won’t change,” she murmured, her voice so soft and tender despite the weight of her words, your heart skipping several beats and landing in your mouth. 

“I love you too, as if that wasn’t obvious enough already,” you breathed out. Powder giggled in response, the sounds only intensifying by your sudden attack of kisses all over her face. She writhed under your grip, protests not even half-serious as you continued to smother her.

“Stop squirming, I get to do this!” you declared, avoiding her chasing your lips as you pressed your lips against her flushed cheek. Powder finally managed to get a grip on you, strong hands on your hips as she pulled you onto her lap with ease. Just as you lean in to press another soft kiss to the edge of her mouth, she quickly moved her head so your lips landed on hers once again, moving quickly and passionately against them as she brought one hand up to your face again to bring you impossibly closer. Your mind was hazy as you kissed her back fervently, arms coming around her neck to ground yourself. You could barely take a breath in the tiny sliver of time there was that you two are apart, her eyes trained on yours lovingly before she pulls you back in, again and again. 

“I’m not gonna be done with you for a while, babe.”

| a/n: well here it is!! my first time writing this sort of thing and i feel like it kinda showed but posting regardless because i'm so sick of seeing this in my drafts. pls leave a comment or drop something in my inbox on ur thoughts, they're much appreciated !! <3

[crushh-existz]

pt 5 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff and slight angst, enemies to finally lovers yey, highschool, modern au, kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 5.5k notes: i burn, i pine, i perish! it's finally the last part hehe — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

Jinx glares at the blank sheet of notebook paper in front of her. Sitting at her desk in her room, she grips her pen tighter and tighter. It's a miracle it doesn't snap.

Just write it. Just get the assignment over with. Do the damn assignment, she mentally tells herself, but her mind won't let her focus.

She's thinking about you.

And nothing else.

You.

How long has she been sitting here? An hour? Two hours?

She glances at her phone. And then the paper again. Back and forth. Groaning, she slumps back in her chair, dropping the pen onto the desk.

The stupid assignment can wait. All the noise in her mind can't be quieted.

She grabs her phone off her desk, checking the notifications. Nothing.

You haven't called her today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Nothing for days.

But why?

She doesn't care.

She doesn't. Why should she? You did what you did, and that was that.

Jinx's head is spinning with thoughts. Anger, confusion, hurt, frustration. She's angry.

She's angry at herself for falling for your stupid words.

She's angry at herself for believing the stupid lies you told her.

She's angry at you for everything. For making a fool out of her, for lying to her face.

What an idiot.

She is such an idiot. Trusting you, caring for you, even liking you. You of all people.

You were just like all the others, but this time it hurts more.

It hurts a lot more.

Maybe if she never trusted you. Maybe if she'd just been more careful, listened to her gut more, then she wouldn't be in this whole mess.

She wouldn't be so mad.

And frustrated.

And angry.

Maybe she wouldn't be sitting in her room staring at her phone hoping to see one notification from you. Maybe she wouldn't feel like her heart was stabbed.

Jinx's fingers itch.

She wants to call you. To tell you off, to scream at you, to curse at you.

But what good will that do?

None, of course.

She's just wasting her time.

A knock at her door interrupts Jinx's thoughts. “Jinx?” she hears, recognizing her sister's voice. “Can I come in?”

Jinx huffs, spinning to look at the door. “Yeah, come in,” she mutters, turning back to her paper. She feels the door open, the floor creaking with each of Vi's footsteps.

Vi has a warm smile on her face and a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. “Want one?” she asks, holding out the mug.

Despite everything that's happened lately, Jinx manages a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. “Thanks,” she says, taking the mug in her hands.

“No problem.” Vi takes a seat on Jinx's bed. “How's prom?”

Jinx grimaces, taking a sip of the coffee. It's still hot, but at least it's good. “It's fine.”

“Just fine?”

”Yeah.” Jinx shrugs, setting the mug down on her desk. “Fine.”

Vi furrows her brow at Jinx's response.

Jinx gets up from her desk and plops onto the bed beside her sister.

“I know what happened.” 

Jinx stiffens at her words. She doesn't look at her sister, refusing to meet her eyes as she picks at a loose thread on her bedsheet.

“I know something upset you,” Vi continues. “You think I don't know you? you're my little sister. I can tell when something's up.”

This isn't what Jinx wants to talk about right now. Everything is still too fresh. “I don't want to talk about it.”

Vi places a hand on her back, rubbing small circles. Not saying anything, Vi waits patiently.

“You're annoyingly good at getting me to talk,” Jinx mutters.

“It's my sisterly intuition.”

Jinx rolls her eyes, then looks up at the ceiling. This is Vi. Her sister. Jinx feels comfortable with Vi. Her sister's done so much for her.

She knows she should tell her what happened eventually. Sooner rather than later, but she just can't deal with it right now. Not yet.

“Is it about that girl?” Vi asks.

…

The silence in the room is answer enough.

“Ah, I see.”

Jinx sighs. “It's…” There are a million words that flash through her brain. Stupid. Idiotic. Infuriating. “Complicated.” 

“I thought you two were doing good. What happened?”

Jinx hesitates. How can she explain what just happened? How can she put into words the hurt, the anger, the betrayal she's feeling?

She looks down at her hands, toying with her fingers. “I thought we were too. Things were going well. I really thought, sis. I really thought-” Her voice cracks, and she immediately stops. “...it hurts, Vi.”

Vi's eyes soften. “Oh, Pow.” She wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's alright.”

It's not alright. It's not alright at all.

She wants to cry. Scream. Hit something. Anything to make this feeling go away.

But all she can do is lean into her sister's embrace, feeling her sister's hand rubbing her arm. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“Well, it's because you really cared about this girl.”

Maybe she did. Maybe she cared too much.

Everything was going well. She felt happy.

But it was all fake.

“She was... she made me feel good,” Jinx says. “I—I thought she liked me, y'know? like, really.”

She really thought that. Despite everything in her mind telling her things couldn't possibly be true, that it was all a lie, a fantasy, she let her guard down, letting herself feel things she thought she'd never get to feel.

And it felt good. It felt great, actually.

Vi sighs. “Maybe. But I saw the way she looked at you. And that... wasn't fake.”

It was hard to miss the way you looked at Jinx. How you looked at Jinx during the drive when you couldn't keep your eyes off her in the rearview mirror. She's seen the way you look at her, how your eyes linger too long on Jinx's every move. And she's not dumb. She was also there during the party, and she saw how you looked after Jinx, how you cared for her.

Vi knows.

“Can I give some sisterly advice?”

And there it was. The advice. The sisterly wisdom. The “words of the wise” moment.

Normally, she'd roll her eyes. Normally, she'd make comments, tease her sister.

Instead, Jinx nods.

Vi continues. “You know I worry about you. You know I just want you to be happy, yeah?”

Jinx nods again. Vi has been there for her since they were kids. After everything Jinx has gone through, Vi's been her rock and her source of comfort.

“I know you really like this girl,” Vi says. “So I'm not going to tell you that everything happens for a reason and all that mumbo jumbo bullshit people say to make themselves feel good.”

Good. She doesn't want any of the positive bs. She hates those phrases people use to try to comfort someone.

“Instead, I'm going to tell you the truth. You're hurting over this. It's going to hurt for a while. Maybe a long while. You feel betrayed, angry, sad, and hopeless, and feeling those things is okay. You shouldn't feel guilty for having emotions. Let yourself feel every feeling. You're not just angry. You're not just sad. You're angry and sad and helpless, and-”

“And stupid,” Jinx interrupts.

“And stupid,” Vi adds. “But don't bottle it up. Talk about it. Vent. Scream. Cry. Scream at a pillow. Cry into that pillow. Let it all out.”

Jinx is quiet. She lets her sister's words sink into her head.

“It's not going to feel good. And at first, you're going to wonder why you're hurting so much, and how you could have been so stupid. But one day, you're going to wake up, and instead of hurting, you're just going to be angry and sad.” Vi gives her a squeeze on the shoulder, and she speaks slowly. “Over time, the anger and sadness will start to fade, and then, only when you least expect it, you're not going to feel any of it anymore. And you'll wonder when you stopped feeling it. It just happens one day… it just happens.”

Her sister's words only serve to further confirm what she already knows—she's going to hurt, she's going to feel like crap. But someday it won't matter anymore. Someday it'll just fade away. It would just happen.

But she refused to hope.

Not this time.

You fooled her. You tricked her good enough.

And yet, the words her sister said made her feel lighter, like a little of the pain had lifted away.

—

Caitlyn looks around, looking for a specific bright blue-haired and then-

“Jinx.”

Jinx pauses in the courtyard, slowly turning around to look at Caitlyn. She glances at her before looking away and adjusting her backpack.

“Can we talk?”

Jinx says nothing, instead keeping her gaze on the side.

Caitlyn continues anyway. “I know it looks bad-”

“You think?” Jinx snaps. “You think it looks bad?”

“I didn't mean for you to get hurt.”

“Oh, you didn't mean to, did you?” Jinx steps forward. “You just thought you could throw money at someone and have your way like you always do. You thought nobody would get hurt.”

“I know… I messed up, and I'm sorry,” Caitlyn replies. “But I only did what I did because I care about Vi, and I wanted to-”

Jinx scoffs, dropping her backpack. “You wanted what?” she sneers. “Was it your plan to send me straight to the damn therapist?”

“Wh-No!” she stammers. “No! Nothing like that. I-” Caitlyn stops. The courtyard is eerily silent. She looks around, noticing how many people are watching.

Jinx could hear them whispering. Whispers of “oh my god” and “what's happening?” and “is that really Caitlyn?” and more.

“Caitlyn, what are you doing here? …and Jinx?”

They pause at the familiar voice. Caitlyn and Jinx turn their heads to the voice that interrupted them... Cassandra Kiramman.

Mrs. Kiramman makes her way over to the girls, looking at the crowd of eyes around them before ushering them inside.

“Office. Now.”

The two girls have no choice but to oblige.

—

Mrs. Kiramman folds her hands on her desk and looks at the two girls in front of her. “I never thought you would do something like this, Caitlyn.” 

“Yes, I did it! Okay?!” Caitlyn exclaims. “I'm the shitty person here. I just… wanted to date Vi, and I paid someone to take her on a date so I could get closer to Vi. And yes, that makes me the most horrible, evil person on the planet.” She turns to Jinx. “I really, really messed up. I shouldn't have done what I did to you. I'm sorry.”

“This is not a conversation I expected to have with you, Caitlyn.” Mrs. Kiramman shakes her head. “This is a serious case of... emotional manipulation, I would almost say. You should be old enough to know better.” Mrs. Kiramman's eyes turn from Caitlyn to Jinx. “Do you have a response to all of this?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I guess, like...” Jinx's hand twitches. “Am I supposed to feel better now? or do I have time to, like, think about it?”

Mrs. Kiramman purses her lips together. “You should feel offended. And you should be upset.” She looks at Caitlyn. “And you should feel upset, too.”

Caitlyn nods. “I do feel upset,” she says. “I feel really awful. Incredibly, awfully awful.”

“You should,” Mrs. Kiramman replies. “Hopefully that means something to Jinx. But I want Jinx to say something.”

Jinx's looks at Mrs. Kiramman to Caitlyn, then to the floor. She scowls at the ground. “I am… upset,” she mutters. “I guess. I mean... yeah, I'm pissed.” She looks at Caitlyn. “I'm pissed.”

“Jinx-”

“NO! Don't try and talk me out of being mad or upset about being used. Because I am mad. I'm extremely pissed, actually.”

Mrs. Kiramman holds up a hand. “That's good,” she replies, stopping the two girls from snapping at each other. “It's good that you're mad. And you have every right to be, Jinx. Caitlyn has been... extremely selfish.”

“Mom…”

“Don't mom me,” Mrs. Kiramman replies sternly. “You know I'm right, and I'm not going to be soft on you. You were incredibly selfish, and you should never do this again to anyone else. Ever.”

Caitlyn winces but nods. “I... I won't.” 

Mrs. Kiramman leans in on her desk. “Jinx?” She waits for Jinx to look at her before continuing her question. “Is there anything you'd like to say to Caitlyn?”

Jinx looks at Caitlyn. The other girl looks like a kicked puppy. Caitlyn at least looks guilty, though she feels like her guilty look only proves her manipulation.

She wants about a thousand things to say to Caitlyn. She wants to rip her head off and shove it up her ass. She wants to scream, to punch, and to kick until she's in tears. But for now, one sentence will do.

“Stay away from my sister.”

“What? No, I-”

“Stay. Away. From. My. Sister.” 

Caitlyn sputters. “Jinx, listen-”

“You listen! You were willing to pull this bullshit on me. So if you seriously think I'm going to stand by and let you anywhere near Vi after this, you're out of your goddamn mind.”

“Jinx, please-”

“I'm going to tell you once and only once: Stay the hell away from my sister and stay the hell away from me.” Jinx stands up. “I don't know what sort of twisted fantasy you've cooked up in your head, but I'm sure as hell not going to be a part of it.”

Caitlyn looks stricken. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I'm serious!” Jinx snaps. “I'm not a piece in your stupid game of chess, and I'm damn sure not going to be something you play with just to get close to my sister. I don't know if you know this, but my sister means a lot to me. So if your goal was to get in my bad graces, congratulations. You've succeeded with flying colors.”

Caitlyn flinches and looks more stricken than before. But Jinx doesn't care about how bad she feels right now. This is Caitlyn's own damn fault. Caitlyn didn't think that there'd be any negative consequences from her actions. Jinx isn't going to make this easy on her.

—

You walk through the hallway, past students laughing and chatting with each other. Some talk amongst themselves, and you overhear snippets of conversation. But it's all just noise to you.

Nothing matters.

Without her, nothing matters.

You stop in front of your locker, but your eyes linger a few steps away.

Just down the hall is her locker.

It's the same as every other locker, painted white. The only things different are the crude doodles and the pink and blue stickers scattered across the metal door.

It's been a few days since the incident, a few days since she ran away, a few days since it all went wrong.

You haven't seen her since.

After what happened, after screwing things up so badly, you can't even bring yourself to say anything to her. You didn't call. You didn't send texts. You avoided places in the school you know she hangs out in. You didn't do anything.

You can't face her.

You can’t even think about facing her.

Because how could you?

How could you after what you did?

But that doesn't mean you don't think about her. You can't think about anything else.

You are not who I thought you were.

Those words.

They echo in your head.

Those words, over and over, and over.

You keep seeing her in your head. The look on her face, betrayed, heartbroken. You hear her voice, the way it cracked as she spoke. You remember the sting in her eyes that wasn't quite tears, but close enough.

You caused that.

You did that.

So many things replay in your head, and all end with the same conclusion. What you did sucks. It sucked, and it hurt Jinx. It hurt her, and it's not fair. Not one bit.

You open your locker, staring unseeing at the mess of books and notes inside.

But… you're just staring. You were supposed to take out a book for your first class, but you forgot which one you're supposed to grab. You forgot.

Or maybe your mind just can't think of anything that isn't her.

You can picture the way she looks when she laughs. You can hear her voice in your head, talking to you, asking or saying something, but not loud enough for you to make out what the exact words are.

You can just picture it, her smiling wide, showing teeth. A laugh breaking out on her face, and she laughs because of you. You were the one to make her laugh that way. Not because of a prank or some stupid joke. No, you actually made her laugh.

Sometimes you think you spot her in the distance, but it turns out to be someone else. Then something else reminds you of her. A song that plays from a speaker, some colorful drawings on the wall, blue hair amongst a sea of people.

But you're not ready to face her.

You don't know when you will be.

The bell suddenly rings, and you jump slightly.

Right.

Class. You have a class.

Shaking off the thoughts, you pull out the books you need from your locker and throw them in your bag. Slamming your locker door shut, you head down the hall.

You shove past other students in the hallway, not caring about how rough you are. People give you weird looks, maybe even whisper behind your back. But why should you care?

The only person that you should have cared about… hates you.

Hates you. That's the harsh truth of this, isn't it?

You reach your first class, sitting in your usual seat. You toss your bag onto the ground and lean your head on your hands.

Jinx is already here, but she doesn't look up.

You watch her out of the corner of your eye. She's leaning her head on one hand, the other one propping open a notebook. Her eyes and fingers are reading the page, but you doubt her mind is actually focused on the text. You doubt she's even reading it.

Mr. Salo enters, and he does a double take. He looks stunned to see you in class on time. “I assume everyone's had some time to finish up their poems.” He clears his throat. “Would anyone volunteer to read their poem aloud?”

No one responds.

Then-

A voice speaks up suddenly. “Um. I will.”

Your head snaps upwards. Jinx has her hand raised.

Mr. Salo looks surprised, but he recovers quickly. “That's… quite unexpected. I was sure I'd have to force someone to volunteer, but-” he gives Jinx a pleasant smile. “Thank you, Jinx.” He gestures to the front of the class, motioning for her to come up. “Please proceed.”

Jinx stands up, pushing her chair back. Then she makes her way to the front of the room. She looks around, looking at everyone before her eyes drift towards you. She quickly looks away, down at her notebook, and begins to read.

I hate the way you talk to me

And the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive my car.

I hate it when you stare.

She pauses for a moment, swallowing down something before continuing. You can see she's gripping the paper on her notebook rather tightly.

I hate your stupid, dumb Madonna CD

And the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick.

It even makes me rhyme.

Her eyes flick to you again, and then she looks away.

I hate it...

I hate the way you're always right.

I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh,

Even worse when you make me cry.

Her voice cracks, and a tear starts to stream down her face.

I hate it when you're not around

And the fact that you didn't call,

She pauses, taking deep breaths to keep herself from crying.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you,

She finally looks up, looking straight at you.

Not even close

Not even a little bit

Not even at all.

Her poem ends there, and her voice quiets. For the first time since she began, there's silence in the room. Everyone else seems to notice, glancing at the other.

But you're stuck staring at Jinx. Your eyes meet hers. Nothing is said, but the moment is enough.

She closes her notebook, turns around, and walks out the door. The rest of the class is dead silent.

You remain seated, your eyes glued on the door where Jinx had left. Seeing her cry like that... 

You couldn't turn back time, no matter how much you wanted to. But you made your bed, and now you need to lie in it.

You have to do something to try and make it right.

—

After the last bell rings, students hurry out of the school carrying backpacks and sports equipment. Classes were over for the day, and thankfully, so was her stupid english class. 

Reading that damn poem in front of the entire class was a relief. She got it all out without having to talk to anyone else. It was so embarrassing having everyone know about her stupid thoughts and feelings, but if they made fun of her for it, they would get a punch to the face. At least this school year will end soon. 

Jinx walks to her car, parked in a corner of the parking lot. She opens her backpack and digs through it, her fingers searching through papers and pencils and other stuff until her hand closes around her car keys. She lifts it up, the keyring rattling.

When she's about to stick the key in the door, she notices something is off.

The driver's side window is down.

Confused, she leans down to look inside the car. She saw something.

Warlock guitar. Sitting in her seat. It was the same one she had been dreaming about. The same one she had been eyeing in the store. The one she could never justify the price or reason to buy. And now, it's right in front of her. 

—

You watch as Jinx picks up the guitar carefully, studying every inch of it.

“Pretty nice, right?”

Jinx gasps. She spins around to see you standing behind her, grinning widely.

Her eyes flit between the guitar and you. “Is it for me?” She sets the guitar back in the passenger seat before closing the door.

You nod your head. “For you, and only you.”

“...why?”

“Uh, well, I thought you could use it. You know, when you start your band,” you reply. “Besides, I had some extra cash.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “Why'd you do it? Why the guitar?”

“I… I want to apologize and please—please listen to me just this time.”

She raises an eyebrow at your words but says nothing yet.

You hold up your hands as she glares at you. “Okay, okay,” you start. “You're right to be angry with me. I did something really, really shitty and stupid. And I'm sorry for it.” You look down, avoiding her gaze in shame. “I shouldn't have taken Caitlyn's money. I shouldn't have done it, just for a stupid cash for a stupid deal. I was being selfish and not thinking about how you'd feel.”

You glance up, expecting her to be scowling and yelling at you.

But she isn't. She's just listening.

It gives you the courage to continue. “I—I should have just been honest with you about everything. I knew it was wrong, and yet I still... and I didn't stop myself. No matter how many times I tried to, I just…” You pause, struggling to say how you feel. “I couldn't stop myself from falling in love with you.”

You look at her again, and the corners of her lips twitch as she tries to keep the grin from spreading across her face. “Really?”

You weren't one to stay serious for too long, were you? you step closer to her, your eyebrows shot up, a smirk on your lips. “It's not every day you find a girl who blows up a classroom with fireworks just to get you out of detention.”

She covers her face with her hands and groans as she tries to hide the growing smile on her face. “Oh, God.”

You tried to soak in every inch of her face. If someone had taken a picture of her then, you could easily have stared at it for hours. She's beautiful—truly beautiful when she smiles.

You reach out and place your hand over hers, pulling it away from her face. Her smile fades, but she doesn't struggle with your touch as she looks at you.

“But it was pretty damn awesome, wasn't it?” you add.

You lift your hand and push a strand of her hair behind her ear before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her lips.

She lets you kiss her, closing her eyes and pulling you close. But it doesn't last long as she pulls away suddenly, her brows furrowing. “You can't just buy me a guitar every time you screw up.”

You grimace. “Yeah... I know. But then we can go to a drum set. Or a bass. And, eventually, a tambourine.”

You lean in for another kiss, but she breaks away, continuing to talk. “And don't just think you can-”

You don't allow her to finish. You shut her up with a kiss, your lips muffling her complaint.

Jinx's eyes widen for a second before she closes them. Her hands grip your shoulders. She's not pushing you away—she's pulling you closer. She melts into the kiss, letting her tongue slip out as her hand threads through your hair. 

You move your hands down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist, holding her.

Her other hand cups your face, fingers stroking your cheek.

You back her up against the driver's side door of her car, pinning her between the car and your body. You pull away to let her breathe, a thin string of saliva connecting your bottom lips with hers.

Jinx's face is flushed and her lips are swollen. She's panting, her hands tangled up and gripping your shoulder. “I'm still…” she says breathlessly. “I'm still mad at you.”

You chuckle and kiss the tip of her nose. “I know.” You take her hands in yours, fingers tracing over her knuckles. You bring her hand up, kissing the back of her hand. “I'll make it up to you.”

Jinx looks down at your entwined fingers, then back up at you. “As you should.”

—

“1, 2, 3, CHEESE!”

Click.

The camera flash goes off, and you press a kiss on her cheek. Your arm rests across her shoulders, and she's clinging onto your hand, grinning at the camera. She giggles, and you feel her nuzzle herself into your side.

Vi smiles behind the phone. “You two are nauseatingly cute,” she says as she puts her phone down.

You glance over at Jinx. The years have passed, and she's graduated. Now she's wearing an academic cap and a black gown, with her diploma in her hand.

Your heart swells with pride. Seeing her achieve her dream made you happy.

Jinx looks just as happy as you are. She held the diploma tightly, her fingers delicately holding the edge of the paper. “Can't believe I did it,” she whispers to herself. 

You give her hand a squeeze, offering silent reassurance.

You remember how hard she worked to get to this point. Late nights spent studying, long hours spent in the library, the stress and anxieties she dealt with.

But she did it.

She did it because she worked her ass off, and she earned it.

You're so proud of her.

You give Jinx a kiss at the temple. Then, you take your arm off her shoulders while you pull something out of your pocket. “I have something for you.”

“Mhm?” She tucks the tassel back under her cap and turns to face you. “What is it?”

You grin as you hold up a...

“A ticket?” she asks, confused.

You hand the ticket over to her. She furrows her eyebrows, then opens her mouth to ask, but then notices something. She looks back at you, then down to the ticket in her hands. She scans over the details, her eyes widening.

“Sweden?”

“Sweden,” you confirm. “And.” You pull out a second ticket from your pocket. “All expenses are paid for. Including the flight, the food, and the hotel room we're staying in.”

Jinx can't form any words, stunned into silence. She just stares at the ticket, flicking the corner of the ticket with her finger.

“I remembered that you said you wanted to see the northern lights. So I thought this…" You motion at the two tickets, “would be the perfect graduation gift.”

“You… you're serious?”

You nod and take her hands in yours. “I wanted to give you the world,” you say, running your thumb across her knuckles. “But seeing as I can't, I settled for the next best thing.”

Jinx says nothing. She's still staring at the tickets. You expect her to have a big, happy smile on her face, but instead, you're surprised to see her eyes beginning to fill up.

You're starting to worry she doesn't like the gift. Did you mess up? “I can get you a different gift if you don't like it,” you say hastily. “If you-”

You're cut off by Jinx throwing her arms around your shoulders, nearly tackling you in a hug. She buries her head in your neck, her arms wrapped around your torso. Her fingers grasp the back of your shirt, holding on tight. Her body trembles, and you feel tears wetting through your shirt.

“Oh.” You're taken aback, but you relax and return the hug. One hand comes down to rest on her back, holding her close to you, and your free hand finds its way to her head. You thread your fingers through her hair while you rub soothing circles across her back. “What's wrong? Did I-”

Jinx shakes her head, her sobs slowly subsiding into quiet sniffles. “N-no, no, it's n-not that...”

“Then… what-”

She raises her head, and when you look at her, you see she's now a mess of runny makeup. “It's the best present I've ever got.” She takes a breath, and you wipe some of the tears from her face. “It just… it means so much to me that… you remembered what I said that day.”

“Of course I remember everything you say.” 

Jinx closes her eyes as you use your thumb to wipe the smeared mascara under her eyes. “I love you so much,” she chokes out.

“I love you too.” Your other hand comes to her face, where you wipe the rest of the lingering teardrops and rub your thumb underneath her eye.

Vi lets out a cough, drawing both of your attention to her. You had been so caught up in the moment, you entirely forgot she was there. “Well,” Vi says with a smile. “...that was cute.”

Jinx looks like she's ready to cry for a whole new reason. She gives you a final squeeze before releasing her arms from around your shoulders and stepping away. She straightens her cap.

“Don't.” You reach out and fix her cap, adjusting it on her head.

Jinx lets out a watery chuckle and smacks your hand away. “Quit babying me.”

“Never,” you reply, and you steal a quick kiss.

Then, Jinx turns her head to her sister. “Vi, we're going to see the northern lights,” she tells her.

“Yes, I heard,” Vi says.

“Look!” Jinx shoves the ticket into her face. “We're going to Sweden. We're going to see the northern lights.”

“I know,” Vi replies, taking the ticket and looking down at it. She grins. “Congratulations, Pow. You deserve this.” She puts the ticket back into Jinx's hand. “You better appreciate that gift,” she teases. “Not a lot of people get such an awesome gift.”

“I do,” Jinx says. “I appreciate it a lot.”

“Good.” Vi looks between the two of you, then gives you a stern look. “Keep spoiling her. And I won't punch you.”

“Got it,” you say with a nod.

Jinx hugs the tickets to her chest, already imagining the sights. The northern lights, the snow, the cold temperatures, Sweden.

It's going to be amazing.

“This is going to be the best trip of my life.”

You smile at how excited Jinx is. You look at Vi, who's watching the two of you. Vi's expression softens. She smiles and nods approvingly, and you can see how much she loves her sister, how much she loves seeing Jinx happy.

“Well, I hope it lives up to your expectations,” you tell Jinx, wrapping an arm around her.

“No matter what, I'm spending it with you, so it already will be.”

End.

notes: OH HOLY GAH DAMN WE'VE FINALLY REACHED THE END!! I want to give an enormous, heartfelt thanks to each and every single one of the wonderful people who were supporting me, leaving likes, and most importantly, taking the time to comment! Your feedback honestly fueled my caffeine-driven writing sessions. Now, I love these two ladies way too much to say goodbye to them that easily, so i'll be writing some side stories to keep my stupid brain happy.

taglist: @axolotl-arsonist, @crvcified-kinx, @axoluxy, @dyslexic-dreamer, @urdeadpoet, @iluvshifting, @shootingc, @freementallyillkid, @tr3nzit444s, @powderbomb-jinxed, @chickennuggetsaresootasty, @multiliker, @rick-grimes-girl, @angelsglitch, @blobfishyy @writtenbyhollywood

[crushh-existz]

pt 4 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff (eh maybe?) and angst, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, prom, kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 4.7k notes: we're so close… — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

Jinx leans over the bathroom sink, applying a moisturizer to her face. She pauses at the sound of someone at the door.

Vi taps on the open bathroom door and smiles at her sister. “Nice haircut,” Vi remarks.

Jinx glances at her from the mirror's reflection, giving her a side-eye.

“What, not gonna say hi?”

Jinx sighs, setting the bottle down on the sink. 

Vi lingers in the doorway, looking at Jinx, who's doing her skincare routine. She waits until Jinx shuts the bottle before speaking. “You goin' to the prom?”

“Why do you care?”

“I'm just asking a question. So, are you going or-”

Before Vi can even finish her sentence, Jinx reaches out a hand and slams the bathroom door shut inches from her face, nearly closing it on her nose.

—

Jinx lays flat on her bed, her headphones over her ears and music playing.

Vi knocks on the door and opens it, peeking inside. “Hey, you-”

“No, Vi,” Jinx cuts her off before she can get a word out. She takes off the headphones and sits up. “I'm not going to prom.”

Vi steps into the room fully, shutting the door behind her. “Why not?” she asks, walking over to her bed.

Jinx leans back against the pillows. “It's stupid.” 

Vi sits down on the edge of the bed. “Is that all you've got?” she teases, shoving Jinx's knee.

Jinx slaps her arm away. “I don't want to go, okay? It's lame.”

“It's not lame,” Vi retorts, raising an eyebrow. “It's senior prom. You can't just skip it.”

“Watch me.”

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me going to some dumb dance?”

“Prom is not that bad,” Vi counters. “Besides, it's your senior year. You're supposed to go.”

Jinx scoffs. “Supposed to? Who says I'm supposed to go? I have a right to choose what I want to do.”

“Yeah, but-” Vi stops herself, thinking carefully about her phrasing. “Have you really not found anyone to go with? no one has asked you?”

Jinx pauses, pulling a pillow from behind her back and bringing it to her chest. She hugs it tightly. “I mean, yeah, well… someone did,” she mumbles, staring at one of her many punk band posters.

Vi chuckles, flashing a grin at Jinx.

Jinx glares at her, narrowing her eyes. “Shut up,” she huffs, throwing the pillow at her face.

Vi catches the pillow with one hand and holds her other hand up. “Hey, hey, I didn't say anything!” 

“Yeah, you were thinking about it.”

“Maybe,” Vi replies with a shrug. “Maybe not.” She grins innocently as Jinx continues to scowl at her. “Why did you turn her down anyway?” Vi asks, tossing the pillow back at her.

Jinx catches the pillow before it hits her face, clutching it to her chest. “I told you already, prom is stupid,” she says, pulling the blankets up tighter around herself.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that.” Vi plops down on the bed next to Jinx, who gives her a glare.

Jinx grumbles. “Then why are we having this discussion?” 

“Because you keep avoiding the question,” Vi replies, nudging Jinx's shoulder.

“I'm not avoiding the question,” Jinx retorts, sinking deeper into the blankets. “I already gave you an answer.”

“That's not a real answer,” Vi says, poking Jinx’s shoulder again.

“Yes, it is.” 

“Saying prom is dumb isn't a real answer.”

Jinx buries herself deeper into the blankets.

Vi sighs and scoots closer to her. “C'mon, Pow, you can tell me,” she says, reaching out to touch Jinx’s shoulder.

Jinx glares at her from beneath the blankets. 

But Vi doesn't relent. She reaches out and yanks the blankets back, revealing Jinx's face. “You've always loved dressing up, even when you were little.”

Jinx bites her lip, looking away.

“And you've always loved dancing and music,” Vi continues. “So why turn down the perfect opportunity?”

“I just…” Jinx murmurs. “No one... nobody asked me to prom for the last few years. And then, suddenly, someone asked me in my last year… it's weird.” She looks up at Vi. “I don't know, maybe she's up to something?”

“Powder…”

“Don't call me that,” Jinx snaps.

“Why not? That's your name.”

“Was my name,”

“Still is your name,” Vi insists.

Jinx grunts but doesn't protest further.

“Powder,” she repeats.“Do you like her?”

Jinx fidgets with the edges of the blanket, her fingers twisting and tugging at the fabric. “I don't know,” she mumbles. “Maybe?”

Vi grins, sensing weakness. “You're blushing.”

“No, I'm not,” Jinx protests, but her flushed cheeks say otherwise.

“You're blushing because you like her,” Vi singsongs.

“Shut up, no, I'm not,” Jinx snaps, punching Vi in the arm. “I'm just… frustrated!”

Vi laughs, rubbing the spot where Jinx hit her. “You're frustrated that you like her.”

“Ugh, you're a dick,” Jinx groans, burying her head in a pillow.

“Look, Pow—Jinx, I just want you to be happy.”

Jinx lifts her head up just enough to look at her sister. “I am happy.”

“You know what I mean. You deserve to have fun. Go to prom, enjoy yourself-”

“Stop it,” Jinx interjects. “You sound like Dad.”

Vi laughs. “Maybe I just want you to take advantage of your last year of high school. Have a good time, make some memories. I mean, you're going to be an adult soon. Time's moving fast.”

“Ugh, now you sound like an old person.”

“I'm not that old.”

“You're going to be twenty-five,” Jinx sits up, wrinkling her nose.

“Exactly. Not old.”

“Debatable.”

They both laugh, and Jinx rolls her eyes.

“So anyway,” Vi starts, grinning. “You gonna reconsider going to prom? Just give it some thought.”

“Fine,” Jinx groans, flopping backward onto the bed. “Fine, I'll go. Can I sleep now?”

—

The second you see Jinx's name flash across the screen, you snatch your phone off the table and answer it on the first ring.

“Hey,” you say, breathless.

There's an awkwardly long silence on her end.

You frown, wondering if she's accidentally butt-dialed you or something. Are you going to have to listen to her fart noises until she notices?

Just as you're about to call out her name, she suddenly greets you back. “Um, hey,” she mumbles. “Sorry. I was... surprised you picked up so fast.”

Okay, she’s not going to start farting then. “Well, I wasn't sure you'd call me after... you know.”

“Yeah, about that. I wanted to say sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize,” you reassure. “I was being pushy and an ass. I shouldn't have pushed you so much.”

“Maybe,” she concedes. “But I didn't need to be so, uh, hostile.”

Silence again.

“Anyway, that's not why I called,” she continues, changing the topic.

You adjust the phone against your ear. “Okay then,” you reply with a nervous chuckle. “Why did you call?”

“I was thinking, if…” she trails off, mumbling the rest of her sentence.

“What?” you ask loudly. “I can't hear you.”

“Iwasjustwonderingiftheoffertopromisstillup,” she says, words rushing and tumbling over each other.

Hang on.

Huh?

After what happened, you weren’t sure she'd still want to go with you.

“Yeah-” you reply. “I mean, why wouldn't it be up?”

“I don't know. I just thought maybe you'd have asked someone else to go with you.” 

“No, I hadn't asked anyone else,” you assure her. “I didn't want to go with anyone else… just you.”

She's quiet for maybe one, maybe two or three seconds before replying.

“Oh.”

Oh?

Just ‘oh’.

What were you supposed to do with ‘oh’ as a response?

“So then... you want to go to prom with me? or... was that a hypothetical question?” you ask.

“No, I-” she pauses, groaning. “Yeah, I mean, yes. I do want to go to prom with you.”

You bite your tongue to keep yourself from smiling. “Cool... cool, cool, cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

Another long, awkward silence.

Do you say goodbye? Do you ask her a question? 

“Well,” you mumble, “I guess I'll see you on the-“

“No!” she suddenly blurts out.

“No?” you repeat, raising your eyebrows. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Wait, no. I didn't mean ‘no’ as in like, ‘no don’t see me at prom,’” she explains, tripping over her words. “Like I still want you to see me.”

“Yeah… I kind of got that.” 

“I meant, like, don't hang up the phone.”

“Why?”

“Just… don't,” she says. “Can you just… stay on the line for a while longer?”

Stay on the line.

Why does she want you to—oh. Ooooh…

“Oh.”

Now you are the one who can only say ‘oh’.

“Yeah, I can stay on the line for a while.”

“Really?” she pipes up.

“Yeah, really,” you repeat, flopping onto your back and propping your head up on your pillow. “So…?”

“Soooo… what's your favorite color..?”

—

A band that does not ‘suck’ by definition and more ‘bearable�� manages to please the audience with a surprisingly decent performance. You can hear them all the way out near the entrance to the prom.

You check yourself a third time for any wrinkles on your outfit and fix your hair to make sure it’s good to go.

With nothing else to do, you grab a fake rose from a nearby vase and spin it in your fingers.

You take a look around, waiting and-

She's here.

Jinx walks up the stairs, wearing a black dress that looks like it's made of satin. She's also wearing heels, giving her a couple extra inches of height. And is it just you, or does that dress also have a slit going all the way up her thigh?

Holy, shitting balls. You're already feeling lightheaded.

She walks past you without noticing you, and you step right behind her, clearing your throat. “Wow,” you say loudly when she's close enough.

Jinx turns around at the sound of your voice, meeting your eyes. She glances you up and down. “You too.”

You try not to have your eyes lingering over the exposed skin of her legs. “You look really good. I like the dress.”

“Yeah?” She looks down at the dress clinging to her curves. “I wasn't sure. Vi was telling me I might be showing too much skin, but I don't know.”

You clear your head and force your eyes up to her face. “Well, I for one, think it looks amazing.”

Jinx raises an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?”

“Yeah, I mean it.” You stick out the fake flower you've been holding this whole time. “You're beautiful.”

Jinx looks at the rose.

She looks at you.

She looks at your rose again.

Then she takes it and twirls it in her fingers. “Mmm, how romantic,” she says, hiding her face with the flower.

Oh god, hearing that in her voice does things to you.

“You ready?” she asks.

You take another look at her face and that dress, and you know for a fact you aren't ready... at all. “I'm ready.” You hold out your arm.

Jinx links her arm with yours, squeezing your arm before both of you begin walking together. “Where'd you get that at the last minute?” she asks, glancing over your outfit.

“Just something I had, you know, lying around.” You shrug. You return the favor, looking at her dress as well. “Where'd you get that at the last minute?”

“Just something I had, you know, lying around,” she repeats, copying your tone.

The two of you share a laugh, and Jinx lets go of the grip on your arm. You approach the booth where other students are taking pictures together.

“Listen,” she starts, hesitating for a few seconds. “I really am... sorry that I questioned your motives. I was wrong.”

You wince internally. It hurts you that she's apologizing for something you can't be honest about. She didn't do anything wrong, and here she is, apologizing.

You force a smile, hiding the guilt that's eating you up. “You're forgiven.”

You want to tell her the truth. You feel the words threatening to spill from your lips. To spill the beans and tell her this was all bullshit. But now's not the time. If you confessed now, you would only ruin the evening for both of you.

Well, there's no point in dwelling on it. The problem's already sorted out anyway.

The smile you force is enough to fool her. For now. Jinx just nods, pleased. “Okay,” she says, releasing a breath. “Ready for the prom?”

“Yes ma'am,” you respond, holding out your arm again.

—

The band wraps up their song, and everyone claps their hands loudly.

You turn to Jinx, joining her with applause. She raises an eyebrow, and you raise one back at her. 

A new song starts, and Jinx immediately recognizes the opening notes, her hand flies over her mouth. “Ohmygod it's-” Letters to Cleo.

“I called in a favor!” you reply, giving her a wink.

“For real?!”

You nod. “Just for you.”

The lead singer of the band makes her way to the center of the stage and glances around, her eyes finding Jinx. The two lock eyes, and the lead singer smiles.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” she gushes.

The lead singer approaches Jinx, a microphone in hand, and begins singing to her. Everyone around moves to get out of the way. “Oh, I can't take another heartache. Though you say you're my friend, I'm at my wits end.”

Jinx doesn't blink, barely moves, and her mouth opens in shock.

The lead singer continues singing. “You say your is bonified, but that don't coinside.” The singer winks at the both of you and returns to the stage.

Jinx slowly turns to you, mouth open to say something. But you cut off her words with a kiss.

You pull away, and she whispers, “Thank you.”

You take her hands in yours, her head finding a spot against your shoulder. She holds you close, arms encircling your shoulders, her nose nuzzling your neck.

The two of you begin dancing as the lead singer continues with the song.

You reach up, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear before moving to rest your hand on her waist.

Jinx hums. She lifts her head, her eyes meeting yours. But she looks away quickly, burying her face back into your neck again. She says something, but her words are swallowed by the music.

You lean in closer to her to hear her words again. But she just shakes her head, burying her face deeper into the crook of your neck.

“What's that?” you tease, “Couldn't quite catch what you said.”

She lifts her head again, pulling away just enough to look at you. Her cheeks are dusted pink, and she looks at you with nervous eyes. “I… I said… I…” She's having a hard time getting the words out, like she's not used to saying it. Or even thinking it. “I said, you shouldn't hold me so tight.”

You chuckle, loosening the tight grip you had round her middle. “Sorry.”

She shakes her head quickly. “No, no, no, I-” she stammers. “I didn't mean it like that... I-I… because-” She stops, not meeting your gaze. Her eyes dart around, avoiding eye contact.

Until-

“Because I-” She swallows, taking a deep breath. “Because I can't breathe.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Jinx continues before you can say anything. “When I'm close to you... like this,” she starts, her hand moving to her chest. Her fingertips press on her collarbone, her palm over her heart.

Your eyes flicker down before meeting hers.

“My heart…” She swallows again, glancing down at her hand. “My heart's beating so fast,” she admits. She pulls her hand away and looks up at you. “I can't breathe.”

The dance continues on, the music still playing.

Her hand reaches up, fingers finding the nape of your neck. “It's because of... you,” she says. “It's because of you.”

You felt it too.

You feel your own heart racing in your chest. Your ears are ringing, all the background noise feels distant. Your face feels hot. You feel like the world is spinning. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden, like they've never started sweating before.

You feel it—your heart, swelling, growing bigger and bigger against your ribcage. The beat pounding hard until it's all you can hear.

Holy shit, she is genuinely trying to give you a heart attack.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she mumbles, her words breaking through your thoughts. “Forget I said anything. I didn-"

“I can't breathe,” you interrupt, speaking without thinking. “...I can't breathe either.”

Jinx's fingers stop caressing the back of your neck, and she stills in your arms. Her eyes widen as she stares at you. But then a smile slowly curves her lips. She rests her chin back on your shoulder, her hand moving down from your neck to wrap around your shoulders.

“I didn't think it was possible,” she says. “I never thought I'd feel this way,” she continues, her arm tightening around your shoulders. “About anyone. About anything.”

You turn your head to the side, your nose brushing on the shell of her ear. “What changed?"

“You did.”

You say nothing, your brain still trying to understand what she's saying and what the hell you're feeling. It's too much to process.

But that's okay. Because Jinx continues.

“This... this feeling. It's… It's new. Different. It's like...” She trails off, her hand resting on the space between your shoulder blades as she rubs soothing circles into your back. “No one's ever been this close to me. It's like I've been running away my whole life, and you just... somehow you managed to stand still long enough for me to finally run to you.”

Your heart stutters again, the pace picking up once more. If it hadn't been for her arm around you, you would've fallen over from how weak and trembling your knees felt.

She lifts her head from your shoulder, and you follow her lead.

Slowly, cautiously, she reaches up to rest her palm on the side of your neck, pressing her thumb just under your chin. Her thumb sweeps over your jawline as she holds your gaze.

“You're the only one who's ever made me want to stay.”

Something in your chest clenches so hard, and it feels hard to breathe all over again and again. She says it with such certainty that there's no way you could dismiss it as anything less than the truth.

Her other hand, which was around your shoulder, drops to your chest.  She can probably feel how hard your heart is beating—how out of control it is.

She looks down at her hand, watching it rise and fall with every thump of your heart. Her fingers flex around the fabric, and you catch the twitch of a smile on her lips. “Looks like we're both doomed,” she says. “Doomed to not be able to breathe while we're together.”

“I don't mind it.”

“Yeah… me neither.”

“You just might kill me,” you tease. “What did you say about not holding you tight again?”

“Shut up.”

—

The two of you continue to dance, twirling and spinning and laughing.

It might not look like it, but you practiced your ass off to get all these moves down correctly. You know you looked like a complete idiot the last time she saw you dance, so you took the time and effort to learn some moves. You wanted to give Jinx the night of her life.

You pull her away, only to spin her around and pull her close again. She giggles as she spins, her hand still in yours.

Jinx stumbles when she comes back around to face you. Her other hand catches itself on your shoulder to steady her. You hold her close, one of your arms wrapped around her waist, the other still holding her hand.

“My grandmother's.”

Jinx looks at you strangely. “Huh?”

“That's where I was last year. My grandma was lonely, so I moved in with her. I wasn't in jail, know Marilyn Manson, or slept with a Spice Girl. I spent the last year watching Wheel of Fortune with my grandma,” you say, not letting go of Jinx in your grasp as you dip her down. “End of story.”

“Awww,” she coos as you raise her back up. “That's adorable!”

“I know, I'm a saint,” you tease. “I'm such a great grandchild.” You grin, and the two of you continue dancing.

The room spins as you spin her around. Dizziness creeps up on you when you both come to a stop, but the sound of Jinx's giggle makes it go away.

“Well, I had a different name,” she tells you.

“Oh yeah?” you reply, not letting go of her.

“Yeah, I used to go by the name Powder.”

“Powder,” you repeat.

Jinx nods as the two of you continue dancing. “Yeah, Powder... It was stupid,” she adds with a chuckle. “I went by that at my old school.”

You try to push the name out of your thoughts for now, not wanting to ruin the night. Jinx spins around again, and you hold her close, dipping her again. She squeals as she goes upside down, then laughs when she's raised again.

You hear the sound of your phone's ringtone, but you don't budge. Nah, you just ignore it.

Rinnngg

The call goes to voicemail.

Rinnnggg

Again. Whoever's calling is definitely being persistent.

Rinnnnnggg

…and again. And this time, you actually stop dancing and check the call.

Caitlyn.

You pull away from her, reluctantly letting go of her hands. She lets you go, but with a scowl directed at your phone.

“Ugh... I gotta take this. Sorry,” you grumble.

“It's fine,” she replies. “Be quick.”

You begin searching for a place where the signal is better, somewhere where the call won’t have to be repeated or sound like a shitty recording.

—

You step into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Weirdly enough, the bathroom is empty. Considering how many people are at the prom, you thought there'd be couples making out or at least a few girls fixing their makeup, but nope. Nothing.

At least it's quiet now, and the signal is good too.

You answer the call, holding the phone to your ear. “You know you've just interrupted-”

“THANKTHANKTHANKTHANKYOU!!” she cuts you off, squealing on the other line. What the hell?

You hold your phone away from your ear, just in case her next words are ear-piercingly loud. “Uh... You're welcome?”

“VI. AND—AND I! ARE. OFFICIALLY. TOGETHER!!”

She's going to give you tinnitus from how loud she is. “...congrats?”

“ALL THANKS TO YOU.”

Oh. Right. That.

“I asked her out again and—and—and she said yes! YES!!” she shrieks.

Caitlyn's overjoyed. But to be honest?

You aren't.

You could be out there, dancing and having a good time with Jinx. Instead, you're stuck in the quiet bathroom being deafened by your friend's squeals.

—

After a while. Jinx looks around, watching the other students continue their dancing. 

Lux is having the time of her life with her dance partner, while Ekko's talking with someone standing beside the table. A few of the guys are eyeing her, but with a quick glance in their direction, they immediately look away.

You still aren't around.

She groans, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She looks around again before making her choice. Bathroom break.

—

Caitlyn continues gushing on the other end of the line, gushing about how perfect Vi is and how wonderful she is. It's not exactly news to you, you've heard this all before.

You sigh, rubbing your face. “Listen, Cait-”

She continues on and on, not hearing you at first.

“LISTEN.”

She finally stops talking, going quiet.

You take the chance to speak. “Can we just forget the deal? can we just forget that you paid me to date Jinx? I mean, you got your happy ending. You asked Vi out again, and she said yes. Case closed, right?”

“What?”

You turn around to face-

“Jinx.”

You freeze. You suddenly feel so cold.

Jinx. Standing right in front of you. There's an odd look in her eyes, like she doesn't recognize you. Like she's completely lost herself.

“You…” Her hands tremble as they slowly clench by her sides. “Nothing in it for you, huh?” She didn't wait for a response, turning on her heel and storming out the bathroom door.

You watch her leave, still in shock.

No, no, no, no, no.

NO.

She heard you. She heard everything.

You hang up the call with Caitlyn. You quickly scramble to your feet, tearing open the bathroom door. “Jinx!”

Despite how short she is, Jinx can move fast. And you've got a ton of ground to cover.

“Jinx—wait!”

She heads for the stairs, and you give chase. She's running fast, but eventually you catch up with her at the top, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop.

Your heart sinks as she continues to look at you like you're some stranger, someone she doesn't know. You feel like you're going to be sick.

You hold her arm tighter. “No, it's—please, just wai-”

Jinx yanks her arm out of your hands, pushing you away. “How much did she pay you? Fifty? One hundred!?”  

You stumble backwards. “Jinx, just let me-” you protest. You try to explain, but each word seems to come out wrong. Or they never come out at all.

She storms off again, but this time you're just quick enough to catch up with her. You grab her shoulder, forcing her to look at you. “Wait, wait—it wasn't like tha-”

She scowls, ripping her shoulder away from your grasp. ”Oh, really?” she snaps. “What the hell was it like? a down payment now, and a bonus if I slept with you?”

The look of hurt on her face nearly stops your heart. You never intended that. That was never what you wanted for her. “NO!” you yell. “I didn't care about the money, okay? I cared-” You cut yourself off, pausing to catch your breath. “I cared about you.”

Your hands twitch, wanting to reach out and grab her, to hold her and tell her that you're sorry, you're so sorry, you never wanted to ever hurt her. You cared about her. You cared about her so much.

But you're just so scared to touch her, to look at her. She's hurting. She's so angry at you.

And yet, you do it anyway and reach for her again. “Jinx, please-”

“Don't touch me.”

It hurts.

God, it hurts.

You slowly lower your hand back down to your side, but you still can’t take your eyes off her.

Every word she says. Every second that goes by. Every minute. It feels like your heart is going to stop and die in your chest.

Keep talking. Talk some sense into her. But the look on her face tells you that she's already made up her mind. It's done.

Tears glisten in her eyes, but she holds them back, clenching her jaw. “You are not who I thought you were.”

Your mind races, desperate and searching for a way to fix this mess. You reach out, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her into a hug.

This always worked in the movies. A single, simple action. A single, simple embrace. A single, simple hug.

Except this is reality.

Reality sucks.

But you can hope, can't you?

A tear slides down her cheek and lands on your shoulder. She shoves you away aggressively, and even though you want to pull her against you again, you don't.

With that, she turns and runs outside. She doesn't look back or stop.

She's gone. You're left alone.

She's gone.

Those words ring in your head, over and over again. She's gone.

You can't move.

You can't think.

Your eyes sting, and tears blur your vision. 

This whole time, this entire… everything you had done, everything.

Maybe if you'd said something sooner, maybe if you hadn't taken the money in the first place, maybe if you'd just been better about saying no.

None of that matters now. You've lost her.

All thanks to you. 

notes: caitlyn when i catch you

taglist: @axolotl-arsonist, @crvcified-kinx, @axoluxy, @dyslexic-dreamer, @urdeadpoet, @iluvshifting, @shootingc, @freementallyillkid, @tr3nzit444s, @powderbomb-jinxed, @chickennuggetsaresootasty, @multiliker, @rick-grimes-girl, @angelsglitch, @blobfishyy

[crushh-existz]

pt 2 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff and slight angst, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, parties, drinking & vomiting (jinx), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 4.8k notes: R wears combats boots for the plot... — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

Mrs. Kiramman escorts you out of her office, clicking her tongue. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn't show your face here for at least a week.”

“Guess I just couldn't stay away from you, Mrs. K.”

Jinx stands outside the guidance office, waiting for her turn. When the door opens, her gaze lifts, landing on you. One arm folded over her chest, a lollipop sticks out of her mouth, which she's quietly sucking on.

Mrs. Kiramman glances between you and Jinx, her eyes narrowing under her glasses. “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Mrs. K shakes her head before grabbing Jinx's elbow and shoving her into the guidance office, spinning around to point a finger at you. “For the love of God, stay away from her. If you two ever decide to have children, we'll have an evil incarnate walking around school.”

With a sigh, Mrs. Kiramman closes the office door, the sound of the latch shutting ringing through the hallway, leaving you alone. You glance through the glass window, catching Jinx giving you the middle finger.

You chuckle and blow her a kiss, not missing the way her jaw clenches.

—

You knock three times on the door, looking behind your shoulder as you wait. Footsteps approach, and you’re about to be greeted—

And a pink-haired girl opens the door.

“Who are you?” Vi asks, looking you up and down. You open your mouth to introduce yourself, but Vi cuts you off before you can get a word out. “Hold up, I think I recognize you.” She snaps her fingers, pointing straight at you. “You're one of Caitlyn's friends, aren't ya?”

You nod. “Yes,” you reply, with a gulp.

“So, what are you doin' here?”

You give a shrug. “I'm here for Jinx.”

Vi snorts. “Hah, figures.” She looks up, calling out behind her shoulder. “Jinx!” she yells. “Someone's here for you!”

You hear some shuffling above, and then the sound of footsteps stomping down the stairs.

Vi turns back to you, raising an eyebrow. “Sooo, are you and…”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jinx interrupts, appearing behind Vi's shoulder. Vi just snorts again at her sister.

“Nine-thirty right? I'm early.” You grin, but it is wiped out by Jinx's groan.

“You're going to Caitlyn's?” Vi asks, turning to look at her younger sister.

Jinx shakes her head hastily. “No-”

“Aw, come on. Your friend came all the way here for you.”

Jinx grits her teeth. “She's not even my-”

“Please?” Vi grins, looping an arm around her sister's shoulder. “Besides, I'll go to the party anyway.”

Jinx crosses her arms. “Seriously?”

“Pleeeeease,” Vi pleads. “You know how boring I get when I have to go somewhere alone.”

Jinx looks at you before dropping her arms to her sides. “Fine. You owe me.”

Vi smirks, ruffling her sister's hair and earning a glare in return. “See? she said yes.”

“I said fine.” She scowls and turns away. “Let me get ready first,” she grumbles, disappearing upstairs.

“Don't take too long!” Vi calls after her.

Jinx's only response is a door slamming shut from upstairs.

Vi rolls her eyes before turning to regard you. “Sorry 'bout that. She's a bit of a handful.” She scratches the back of her head awkwardly. “She'll come around. She's always hated Cait for some reason, but she'll come around.”

Upstairs, you can hear muffled curses and sounds of thudding and banging coming from Jinx’s room. From the sound of it, her room is now a total disaster… not that it wasn't before.

“It's fine. It's not like it's your fault.”

“Still, she could be a little more… pleasant,” Vi mutters, leaning against the doorframe. “She wouldn't want anything to do with Caitlyn,” she continues. “Whenever Cait visited, she would hide in her room until she left.” Vi sighs, rubbing her face. “Even when Cait was just mentioned, she would roll her eyes and throw stuff at me.”

“Do you know what she has against Cait?” you ask.

“Not a damn clue,” Vi grumbles. “Caitlyn's never done anything to Jinx, as far as I'm aware. The hostility comes from Jinx's end.”

Jinx's door slams open upstairs, and stomping footsteps can be heard heading back down the stairs. 

She's no longer dressed casually in sweatpants and a band shirt, instead wearing a black pleated skirt with a studded belt snaking around her waist, ripped fishnet tights covering her legs, and ending at her combat boots with the laces loosely tied. Her cropped tank top shows off her stomach, a leather jacket hung over her shoulders, and multiple leather bracelets and necklaces. Her eyes have smudged eyeliner, and her lips are painted with dark lipstick. 

This is far different than the normal Jinx you’re used to seeing at school all the time. Seeing her dressed up and looking like that was…

Damn. Damn.

You realize you've said something.

Then you realize you've said something out loud.

“Damn…” Vi repeats, taking a glance at her younger sister. “You look good!”

Jinx grunts, snatching her car keys and heading for the door. “Whatever. I'm driving.”

—

The Kirammans' house is like a beehive of activity. A full-blown party for all of Caitlyn's friends from her college. If Mrs. K found out about this, she'll be pissed as hell. Thankfully she's out of the house—otherwise you'll be kicked out before the party even properly begins.

Inside the house, there's a crowd of college students, probably twenty of them, maybe more. The only people from high school were you and Jinx.

Vi turns towards you, leaning in to speak in your ear over the loud music. “I'll go find Cait.”

You nod back, watching as she disappears into the crowd.

Jinx heads up the stairs towards the balcony, pushing her way past the numerous students.

There are about seven college couples making out on the steps and the walls of the hallway leading to the balcony. What the hell were they putting in the drinks here?

You try to follow behind, but it's difficult to keep up with her in the crowded staircase.

A very, very drunk woman rushes up to you out of nowhere, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes glassy. She throws her arms around you with a sloppy grin on her face. “Kiss me!” she exclaims, stumbling and bumping into you.

“Nah, not tonight,” you laugh awkwardly, pushing her into the lap of some lonely guy sitting in a chair who blushes at her. “Kiss him,” you instruct, making a shooing motion with your hands.

She giggles, turns to him, and then begins smothering him with sloppy kisses, her drunk hands clumsily pawing at his clothes.

“T-thanks,” the guy stutters, grinning at you over the drunk girl's shoulder as she begins showering the side of his neck with sloppy kisses.

You grimace, turning away to look at where Jinx was standing a few seconds ago.

Oh, crap.

She's gone.

—

“Jinx!” Caitlyn grins, approaching her as she walks past. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes glassy.

Jinx groans.

Caitlyn's eyes flash, taking in Jinx’s outfit. “Looking good!” she says, clearly trying to be nice. She looks around, searching for any sign of her sister. “Where's Vi?” she asks, her eyes scanning the dancing students.

Jinx smirks. “Hell if I know. Off trying to hook up with someone, probably,” she jokes, snickering to herself.

Caitlyn's smile drops instantly. Her eyes narrow, and her shoulders tense. “What's wrong with you?” she mutters, bumping her shoulder roughly against Jinx on her way out.

Jinx stumbles, nearly losing her balance. She quickly turns, watching as Caitlyn storms off. “What the hell crawled up her ass and died?” she says to herself, frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. She brushes off the shoulder that took the hit, then heads back into the living room.

—

The party is loud, cramped, and way too hot. People kept running into you. Spilling drinks that reeked of alcohol all over your clothes. Not to mention the fact that a lot of them kept getting too flirty for your taste. 

Finally, you manage to spot her in the living room, chugging down a glass of amber-colored liquid into her mouth.

“Right on, sister!” says the guy who gave her the glass, giving Jinx a high-five and then disappearing into the sea of people.

Before she can take another sip, you snatch the half-empty glass from her fingers before she can finish it. “What's this?” you ask. “I've been looking for you everywhere.”

“I'm getting trashed, maaaaan,” she mocks, smiling lazily at you. “Isn't that what you're supposed to do at a party?”

“I dunno. I say do what you wanna do.”

“Funny, you're the only one,” she replies with a scoff, pushing her way through the crowd of loud strangers. “Later.”

She's gone before you can even respond. You swear you can still hear the sound of her muttering and grumbling to herself, but it's completely drowned out by the loud music and drunken yelling.

It's honestly annoying how many people there are, most of whom are completely drunk and high out of their minds, bumping into you like a bunch of toddlers and spilling their disgusting alcohol all over you as you try to squeeze through them.

This party sucks.

—

You pass by the same drunk girl and the guy from earlier, who are still feverishly sucking face. The guy grabs your clothes, stopping you from walking away. “Really,” he says between sloppy kisses. “Really! Thank you!”

You roll your eyes and give him a pat on the shoulder before wrenching yourself free from his grip, continuing your way through the horde of drunk students.

You made your way down the stairs, hoping to find Jinx to be less drunk and more coherent, and you wouldn't have to deal with the crowd of idiots and drunk frat boys upstairs.

Of course, your hopes were quickly dashed when you saw Jinx swaying back and forth on her feet, her hand gripping a fresh shot of god-knows-what.

“Hey, why don't you let me have this one, huh?” You grab the glass to try and pry it out of her tight grip.

“No! This one's mine.” Jinx clenches her grip on the glass and scowls at you, refusing to let it go. “Find your own.”

You manage to take the glass from her, and she lets out a sigh before stomping off. You try to follow after Jinx when suddenly, a strong hand grabs you by the shoulder.

“Where's Caitlyn?!” Vi yells over the blaring music.

“I don't know!” you yell back, just as loud.

The crowd in the next room suddenly goes wild when someone turns on the radio and blasts it at an eardrum-rupturing volume.

You and Vi glance at each other before turning to look at Jinx dancing on a table in the next room. Her leather jacket has fallen away, exposing her stomach and arms, leaving her in just a cropped tank top.

Her braids slap against her back, sticking to her skin from all the sweat. She swings her hips back and forth and twirls her arms in random movements. The crowd cheers, and a group forms a circle around her table, clapping and laughing wildly.

“Jesus,” Vi mutters, her eyes wide. “I didn't think Jinx could dance like that.”

Jinx is completely drunk, absolutely drunk. She has her eyes closed, oblivious to the attention and the amount of alcohol running through her system.

You push a few people out of the way as you get closer.

Her body moves on its own, to the music, to the beat. Her hands travel up her body and into her hair, her skin slick with sweat.

She spins her head around, and BANG.

She headbutts a chandelier hanging on the ceiling.

You watch as her body sways and her eyes roll back in her head. Before she can fall, you manage to catch her just in time.

The drunken and rowdy crowd starts to cheer and clap, thinking that this is all part of her drunken show.

You set Jinx down on her feet, your hands grasping her arms tight to keep her steady. “Are you okay?”

She groans and opens her eyes, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “I'm fine.” She tries to pull away from you, trying to swat your hands from her arms, but as soon as she tries to walk on her own, she stumbles on her own feet. You grab her again, holding her steady.

“You're not fine. C'mon.” You sling her right arm over your shoulders, wrapping your arm around her waist as you guide her down the hall.

“I jussssta needa lie down somewhere,” she slurs, leaning heavily against your side.

“The minute you lie down, you'll be passed out,” you respond as you keep her moving. 

“I know, just let me go to sleep. Sleep is good. Good, good, good.”

“Yeah, well, not if you have a concussion,” you retort, grabbing her tighter around the waist to make sure she doesn't just fall face-first onto the floor.

“Okay, I'll just… sit on the floor,” Jinx mumbles, trying to plop down onto the ground right in the middle of the hallway.

“Nooooo, we're not doing that.” You grab her by the arms, hauling her back up to her feet.

“But I'm tired. I'm sleepy. So sleepy.”

“I know.” You guide her to the garden, where you manage to find a bench. You help her sit down, keeping your arm around her side in case she accidentally tips over. “Come on,” you say, slowly lowering her down. “Lean back, lean back. There you go. Just... keep your head up. Hold your head up.”

Jinx reaches up and touches the spot where she hit her head earlier, wincing as her fingers touch the lump that's already starting to form.

You're just starting to kneel down in front of Jinx when suddenly, a hand grabs your arm. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Caitlyn standing behind you.

“We need to talk,” she says, sounding strangely urgent.

“Right now?” You look back at Jinx, who is still slumped against the bench, one hand on her head while the other is propped up on her knee. “I have my hands full at the moment.”

“Can you give me a second?” she insists, pulling you further away to the side. She lets go of your arm and runs a hand through her hair. “It's off. The deal is off.”

“What are you talking about?”

Caitlyn sighs. “Vi never wanted me, okay? she's... she's got eyes for someone else. I know it.”

You have neither the time nor the patience for this. You glance back to check on Jinx. She's starting to drift off to sleep, her chin dropping down towards her chest, before a sharp shake of her head brings her back to alertness.

“Cait,” you start, turning back to Caitlyn. “Do you like her or not?”

Caitlyn nods, looking down at her feet. “Yeah…”

“Then is she worth all this trouble?”

She hesitates. “Well, I thought she was, but...but I....”

You cut her off before she can finish. “She is or isn't. See, first of all, are you going to give up on her over a bit of competition? And secondly,” you poke her on the chest with your index finger. “Don't ever let anyone, ever, make you think you don't deserve what you want. If you want her, then go for it.” Then, you turn away from Caitlyn. “I gotta go.”

Jinx starts to fall off the bench, and you quickly catch her before she face-plants on the ground. “Okay, that's it,” you murmur to yourself as you hoist her up and begin walking away.

—

You march Jinx through the streets, her arm around your shoulder to keep her from falling over.

“Ughhhh.” She groans. “This is so patronizing.”

“Leave it to you to use big words when you're shitfaced.”

She shoves you, trying to walk on her own. “I don't think so.” Unsurprisingly, she falls to the ground.

You reach down and try to bring her back to her feet, pulling her up the small hill until you reach the playground outside of Caitlyn's house.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?” Jinx asks, leaning against you for support.

“I already told you.” You lift her arm a little higher up onto your shoulder. “You might have a concussion.”

Jinx breaks free of your grip and walks a few steps forward. You keep a close eye on her and continue to walk at her side, making sure to be within arm's reach in case she trips and falls.

“You don't care if I never wake up,” she mumbles, stumbling over her own feet.

You chuckle, catching her from falling. “Sure, I do.”

The two of you reach a pair of swings, surrounded on all sides by thick vines.

She stops in front of the swings, turning to face you. “Why?”

You take her hands in yours, keeping her straight and steady. “Because then I'd have to start dating girls who actually like me.”

“Yeah, like you could find one."

“See that, there?” You gesture with one hand to Jinx. “Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “I just... I wanna sit down for a while.”

“Alright.” You lead her over to the swingset and sit her down in one of the swings, guiding her hands to hold onto the metal chains. “Don't fall off.”

She grins, her eyes locking onto yours.

And then, she suddenly falls backward, only to be caught, again.

“Jesus,” you mutter, propping her back upright. 

Jinx chuckles but doesn't say anything.

You move to sit on the swing beside her, the two of you swinging back and forth. The chains of the swing creak awkwardly. “So…” you start. “Why do you hate her?”

“Who?”

“Caitlyn.”

Jinx's face wrinkles up, and she frowns, glaring straight ahead. “I hate her.”

You nod. “I know. You don't look like the type to chug shots of tequila. Must be serious.”

She turns to throw you a glare. “Hey, I can be 'cool.' I can be 'laid back' like everyone else.” She snickers, half to herself. “You don't think I've got it in me?”

“Thought you were too good for that.”

“Well, you know what they say…”

“Nope. What do they say?”

You turn, only to find Jinx fast asleep, her head resting against the swing's rusty chains.

“Shiiiiiit!” You spring out of the swing and rush towards her. “No, no, no, no! Jinx! C'mon, wake up!” You kneel down, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells!” you sing loudly, patting the side of her face.

Her eyelids flutter as she responds to the sound of your voice, slowly and groggily blinking her eyes open.

You exhale, feeling your shoulders relax. You stand up at your full height, releasing your hands from her shoulders. “Thank fuck.” You sigh, looking down at her.

Her gaze lingers on you, her mouth slightly agape. “Hey…” she murmurs. “Your eyes are pretty.”

...

What?

Jinx just... complimented you?

You're floating up into cloud nine—no, no. This has to be some kind of trick.

But... that smile on her face. An unfamiliar, genuine smile. You're floating higher and higher, about to touch the clouds...

Jinx is actually complimenting you. Jinx is-

HRRRRRK!

HRRRRRK!

...and that's when the evil dragged you back to earth.

Your mouth turns down in a grimace, and you look down at your combat boots, which are now covered in a mixture of bile, alcohol, and... wait, is that bacon?

What. The. Hell.

“Oh for fuck's sake!” you exclaim, backing away to avoid the vomit. “Seriously? Seriously?” You shake your boots, splattering globs of puke onto the grass. “Did you have to urp puke on my boots?”

Jinx leans back against the swing, regaining her breath. “Sorry,” she mumbles, wiping her mouth with one hand. “I guess I should've said, 'Pretty. Pretty gross.'.”

You glare down at your boots—ruined, stained, and completely disgusting.

You shake your boots again, trying to get rid of as much of the gross liquid as you possibly can. “Damn it, Jinx!” you yell, kicking off your boots and standing barefoot in the grass. “These are my favorites!”

“Not anymore.”

“UGH!” you shout, throwing your hands up into the air. “I'M GOING TO CURSE YOU, CAIT!” You look up at the sky, yelling at the moon, the stars, and whatever god might be listening. “YOU HEAR ME, CAITLYN?! I'M GOING TO CURSE YOU FOR THIS!”

—

Caitlyn, the benevolent goddess from the heavens above, kindly let you borrow her shoes.

You, being the kind and humble person that you are, graciously accept her offer but insist that you would return the shoes back when you can. But she insisted back, saying that the shoes were your size after all, so you may keep them.

You thank Caitlyn once more before accepting your new pair of shoes, thanking the gods that you have such a generous friend.

Blessed be Caitlyn Kiramman.

You now stand outside Caitlyn's house as the students who attended the party begin to drive away or head home. Jinx is currently in the bathroom, washing herself up and preparing to leave.

Vi walks up beside you and speaks up. “Can you give Jinx a ride home?”

You look over at Vi, giving her a nod. “Yeah, sure thing.”

She gives you a tired smile, her lips red and swollen.

“Wait—you're not gonna come with us?”

She shakes her head, giving a vague gesture with her hand. “Nah, I'm gonna... hang out a bit more. I'll get a ride home later.”

You raise an eyebrow curiously but shrug. “Got it.”

“Well, I'll get going then.” Vi pats you on the shoulder before turning away and walking back towards the house. Then, just as suddenly, she stops and turns back to you with her finger pointed in your direction. “And don't you do something stupid to my sister.” 

You laugh it off. “Don't worry,” you reassure her. “I would never do anything stupid to Jinx. I'll make sure nothing bad happens, I promise.”

Her expression softens. “Good.” She gives you a pat on the back. “I know you're not a bad person. But I still gotta look out for my little sister, y'know?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “I get it.”

You watch as Vi turns around and walks into the house without another word, leaving you standing alone outside. You stand by yourself, watching the remaining people from the party head home one by one.

Suddenly, Jinx's voice snaps you to attention. “Let's go. I'm driving.”

Spinning around, you find Jinx standing behind you, and you frown. “Hell no. You're drunk. I'll drive.”

Jinx waves a hand dismissively. “Pssh, I'm fine. I can drive. I'm not that drunk.”

“Bullshit.” You open the passenger door, gesturing for her to get inside. “Get over here.”

Jinx groans but obliges, walking over to the passenger door. She reluctantly gets into the passenger seat. You head around to the driver's side and slide in, taking the car keys she hands you.

Starting the car, you take one last glance at her face before putting the car into gear and pulling away.

—

Jinx fiddles with the radio dial, flipping through various stations until she finds a song that suits her taste. But you quickly change it before she can get too comfortable.

“Hey!”

“I'm driving, so I get to pick the song.”

She scowls, reaching back to change it back to her preferred station. “It's my car.”

You reach over and change it back again. “And I'm in control of it.”

“But it's Letters to Cleo!” she protests. “I know you like them! I saw you there.”

You swallow hard, and with a sigh, you let her listen to her song. 

“So, tell me,” she says, turning to face you. “Where were you last year?”

“I was busy.”

She squints at you, her intoxicated brain trying to interpret your response. “Were you in jail?” she asks again.

“Maybe.”

“Pfft, no. You weren't.”

“Then why'd you ask?” you retort, shooting a side glare at her.

“Why'd you lie?”

You don't answer, instead grabbing the volume knob and cranking it up to keep her occupied. She starts to bob her head drunkenly, singing along to the lyrics like she's in a concert, headbanging wildly with a grin on her face.

Despite yourself, you find your fingers starting to tap against the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

“I should do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” She points to the radio.

“Start a band?”

“No,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Install car stereos.” She laughs, then sighs. “Of course, start a band, dumbass.”

“Why don't you, then?” you ask, keeping your eyes glued to the road.

“As if anyone would want to hear me play.”

“And why's that?”

“Everyone thinks I'm scary. No one would want to be in a band with the girl that makes all the other students crap their pants.”

You steal a sidelong glance in her direction. Right now, she is far from 'scary'. “I'm no picnic myself,” you reply, looking back at the road.

Jinx glances up at you, then laughs. “True. You're no walk in the park either.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, huh?”

She grins, leaning back in her seat. “Fair enough.”

You park the car in her driveway and shut off the engine. You can feel her gaze on the side of your face, and you look over at her. “What?”

“Nevermind,” she replies quickly, looking away. She bites her lower lip, trying to hide her smile. You catch her looking at you in the side-view mirror, but she quickly averts her gaze when you notice. There's a tint of pink in her cheeks... It wasn't there before.

You look away, focusing on the road.

Was that... a blush?

No way.

She's probably still feeling the effects of the alcohol. Don't overthink things, that's stupid, you tell yourself, ignoring how your own body starts to warm up.

“You know…” Her voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look over to see her fully facing you. You watch as she runs her tongue over her lower lip, the tip just barely touching the corner of her mouth. “...you're not as vile as I thought you were.”

Your eyebrows shot up at her words. Where is this coming from? “What changed your mind then?”

“Eh, you weren't bad company,” she says with a shrug. Her tongue darts out of the corner of her mouth again, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

You notice how... soft her mouth looks, even with her lips curled in a half-smirk.

Get it together.

You stare at her, your brain taking a second to process what she just said. Must be the alcohol talking.

She doesn't think you're good company for real, she's just saying random crap.

“Not bad, huh? and here I thought you hated my guts.”

“I did.” Her eyes dart down to your mouth for a second, almost too quick for you to notice. “Or at least I thought I did.”

It must be the alcohol.

It's definitely the alcohol.

Because there's no other reason for why she's leaning in, her eyes fluttering shut, lips parting slightly, moving closer and closer...

Wait, what.

She's...

There's no way she's actually leaning in right now...

She is.

She's leaning in.

You can feel her breath on your face, the smell of tequila mixing with the smell of her perfume. Your body is on fire. You're going to explode. You're going to combust.

Oh, hell no.

This is not happening. She's still tipsy.

This isn't right, this isn't right.

You forcibly tear your head away from hers, your stomach twisting. “Maybe we should do this another time.”

Her eyes snap open. She looks pissed. She looks like she's about to murder you, and honestly, right now, you'd let her. Her brow creases together, and she frowns, looking away. She mutters a few swear words before getting out of the car, shutting the door behind her with a bang that makes the whole car rattle.

She stomps up her driveway, disappearing through the front doorway as the door slams hard enough to nearly shake the glass window.

Your head is spinning.

What just happened? how did things go tits up so quickly?

This is not what you signed up for. Five minutes ago, things were fine, then the mood suddenly shifted, and she was all up in your personal space.

And then things got all weird and awkward.

She's drunk. She'll forget this even happened, and everything will be fine.

Yeah, no biggie.

She'll probably wake up tomorrow morning with a hangover, but nothing else. Right? Right.

“Fuuuuuckk.”

taglist: @axolotl-arsonist, @crvcified-kinx, @axoluxy, @dyslexic-dreamer, @urdeadpoet, @iluvshifting, @shootingc, @freementallyillkid, @tr3nzit444s, @powderbomb-jinxed, @chickennuggetsaresootasty

[crushh-existz]

pt 1 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, smoking (reader), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 5.8k notes: because of the age difference, caitlyn is in college that's why she's always on calls.. — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

You pick up at the third ring, hearing a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, good, you picked up.”

It's Caitlyn.

You put the phone down for a few seconds to eat your sandwich, before picking the phone back up. “What now?” you ask through a mouthful of sandwich. “I just woke up, y'know.”

The line is silent for a minute.

Then, you hear Caitlyn clear her throat. “Are you busy right now?”

It's 9am on Sunday, of course you're not busy. “Kinda busy eating my breakfast,” you reply, taking another bite. “Why?”

You hear some shuffling on the other end, some muttering, and another pause before Caitlyn speaks again. “I have… a proposition.”

A proposition already, and so early in the morning? you put your sandwich down, sitting up and making sure you heard that right. “I'm listening.”

Caitlyn clears her throat again, and there's sounds of footsteps and whispers in the background, as if she's moving somewhere more secluded. “…Do you know Jinx?”

It's a strange question. Pretty much everyone knows Jinx. “Yeah,” you reply. “Why?”

The shuffling resumes, a few footsteps, and the murmur of voices. “I'll cut to the chase. I'm asking for your help. I need you to do me a favor.”

You pause, raising an eyebrow. What does she want? “Depends on what it is.” You shrug. “And what I'd get in return.” You take a sip from your glass.

The murmuring on Caitlyn's end of the line stops, and you hear the sound of a door clicking shut. “I want you to take Jinx on a date.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “You want me to what?” you manage to ask between coughs.

“It'll be a fake date!” she says quickly. “If you can make this date go smoothly and… make her like you, even a little bit, I'll pay you a hundred dollars.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “100 dollars?!” You cough again. “You can't just throw me under the bus like that. You've lost your damn mind.”

“Please just hear me out,” Caitlyn pleads. “It's not like you have to ask her to marry you. Just think of it as a challenge. You get 100 dollars if you can get her to enjoy a date with you. Come on, you're good with girls, aren't you?”

What does she think you are, some suave James Bond-esque ladykilling playgirl? while you've kissed a couple girls, you can't call yourself super suave. 

“Caitlyn, Jinx hates me.” It's common knowledge. Jinx hates nearly everyone, especially people she was in class with. “She's gonna kill me if I ask her out on a date.” You shudder.

“That's why I chose you for this,” she says. “I figured you were the type to face any challenge head-on.”

“This isn't just a 'challenge', it's a mission for the suicidal,” you retort. “You're setting me up to embarrass myself and get ridiculed in the process.”

You hear her scoff. “So you can flirt and tease the whole damn school, but a date with Jinx is the line you draw, is that it?”

You scowl at her comment. You've been known to flirt and joke around with a few people at school, but that’s all it is—meaningless flirting with no strings attached. This is completely different—this is Jinx we're talking about. “You're comparing apples and oranges here,” you protest. “They're not the same, Cait.”

“Maybe,” she replies. “But I've seen how you've charmed your way out of trouble. You're good at talking your way out of things. And that's exactly what I need right now.”

That's true, but that's with a teacher, or a TA, or a store manager who's trying to bust you for shoplifting. Not with Jinx, of all people.

“Caitlyn, c'mon. She's either gonna punch me in the face, or call me a dumbass, or both.”

“Just listen,” she cuts in. “All you have to do is go on a fake date with her. You don't have to actually like her.”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, gripping the phone in your hand. “No way, no how.”

“150 dollars.”

“You really, really want me to go on a fake date with Jinx?” you murmur. “Are you that desperate?”

“I'm very desperate.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Why are you so fixated on me doing this?”

You hear movement on the other line, like Caitlyn's pacing back and forth. “Okay, look,” she begins. “I… really like her sister. Like really like her. Like…”

This wasn't just a fake date. It was a way to get closer to who she liked. “Oh. Ohh.”

“Yeah...”

Wow. This was a lot more desperate than you initially thought.

“But why don't you just ask her sister out?” you ask.

“I did.” She sighs again. “I asked Vi out last week, and she said she can't go on a date with me until her sister finds someone. Jinx has to be happy before Vi can go on dates, according to her.”

What the hell kind of ridiculous rule is that? “So let me get this straight,” you start. “You want me to go on a fake date with Jinx.”

“Yes.”

“Until she becomes my... girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“And then you can date Vi.”

“Yes.”

It sounds crazy, ridiculous, batshit insane. “Holy shit, Caitlyn.” You run your fingers over your eyes, shaking your head to yourself. “All of this just so you can get laid?”

A huff comes from the other end of the line. “Are we making a deal or not?”

“Hey, wait a minute—I'm gonna need the money first,” you say, drumming your fingers against the table.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” you explain. “You know, the whole dating thing. Dates, food, gas, that kinda stuff. You can't expect me to pay for all of that with my own money.”

Caitlyn doesn't respond immediately. You can hear some shuffling, and you can imagine her biting her lower lip anxiously, maybe staring out the wall.

“There's a high probability I won't even get a Harley after all this,” you add. 

Silence.

“So I'm gonna need the money...”

There's a pause, then an annoyed hiss. “Don't you trust me?”

“Oh hell no. Give me the money first and then I'll consider the deal.”

She sighs. “Fine. Whatever, I'll give you the money.”

“All of it?”

“…Yes. All of it. All 150. For your shitty, awful fake date.” She huffs. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

—

You step into the office, finding Caitlyn's mother already hunched over her laptop, staring over the rim of her glasses. You hated coming into this office. It always felt like you were in the principal's office.

“I see we're making our visits a weekly ritual,” Mrs. Kiramman says, staring at you over her laptop. 

“Only so we can have these moments together,” you reply, your mouth already curving into a grin. “Should I, uh, get the lights?”

Mrs. Kiramman sighs, her eyes scanning over the paper in front of her. “Exposed yourself... in the cafeteria,” she mutters. “I seriously don't understand why my daughter associates herself with you.”

“It was for a good reason, I swear.”

“Oh, really?” She raises her eyebrow. “And what reason is that?”

“I was joking with the lunch lady,” you explain, spreading your hands out. “She was being snippy with me, so I started unbuttoning my shirt, it's not like I was actually going to flash anyone.”

Mrs. Kiramman takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, her other hand coming to rest on her forehead.

“But I suppose if we've already looked through all my wrongdoings, you can release me back into the wild, eh?” you continue.

“Just... make it more than a week before coming back here, alright? I don't want to see you in my office every week—you're a walking headache.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. K.”

“And stop calling me Mrs. K.”

—

Jinx kicks the ball here and there, back and forth, side to side. She's taking all of her frustrations out on this ball, dribbling it down the field, passing it to her teammates, dodging opponents.

Her moment of peace is interrupted when a player tries to intercept her pass. She grins, dribbling out of the way and kicking the ball hard into the player's face. 

The coach blows the whistle. “Great practice, everybody!”

Practice over. Jinx tosses the ball aside. She rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands, a headache thudding against her skull. She bends forward to grab her water bottle from the edge of the field, taking generous swigs from the bottle.

Jinx is the captain of her high school's soccer team. She's good—really good. She has quick feet and a mean kick, and she's scored a lot of points for the team. In games, however… Jinx is aggressive. She kicks hard. She kicks fast. She kicks a lot. She does not pull her punches when it comes to her opponents.

She's halfway done guzzling water when a voice interrupts her.

“Hey there, girlie.”

Jinx pauses, swallowing the last of the water in her bottle. She glances up at you, watching you approach her as you shove your hands into your pockets.

“How ya doin'?” 

“Sweating like a pig actually,” she replies, pulling out a small towel and wiping her face. “And yourself?”

You hum, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I'm good. Just thought I'd come and chat with our wonderful captain.”

Jinx grumbles as she slings the towel over her shoulder.

“That was quite a performance out there,” you continue, raising a hand to give her a slow clap. “You were brutal today. Worse than usual, not-gonna-lie.”

Gathering her stuff, Jinx zips up her bag, slings it across one shoulder, then strides past you.

“Hey,” you say, quickly catching up to her. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think, genius? I'm leaving.”

You huff, following her as she marches out of the soccer field. “Pick you up on Friday, then.”

Jinx makes a face at that. “Oh, right, Friday,” she mimics. “Uh-huh.”

You cock a smirk. “Well, the night I take you places you've never been before.”

“Like where? The 7-Eleven on Broadway?”

“Ha, very funny.” You shake your head. “And actually, no, smartass.”

“Do you even know me?” she asks, not slowing her pace.

You hurry to keep up and shrug. “Yeah, we have the same class on science and english.”

She stops in her tracks and turns to look at you, eyes flitting up and down, up and down. Once, twice, three times. “You're the one that never shows up in Mr. Viktor's class?”

“Hey, to be fair,” you say, putting your hands up. “That's an 8 a.m. class. No one shows up for an 8 a.m. class at ass o'clock in the morning.”

Her expression remains unamused as she shifts her bag's backpack strap further off her shoulder. “Except you're the only one who never shows up. You have the same attendance rate as Mr. Blitzcrank,” she tells you, turning back around to start walking. “Which is absolutely none.”

“What can I say?” You chuckle, jogging to catch up to her again. “I'm very talented. Gifted, even.”

She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “Talented at being an idiot, more like.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

“Good,” she says over her shoulder. “Maybe don't try to impress me with your shitty grades and your non-existent attendance record next time, then.” Without a second glance, she continues walking, leaving you behind.

“Ouch!” you exclaim. “Rude, by the way!” you shout at her, and you see a flash of a smile over her features.

—

Jinx stands at her locker, gathering her books—a variety of books with names like Introduction to Rocketry, Engineering and Architecture, Chemistry Vol. 3: Chemical Reactions, Organic and Inorganic Compounds and Mixtures, and a few other engineering books, all with worn spines and yellow pages.

“Hey,” you greet.

She doesn't even glance at you as she continues sorting through her books, shoving what she doesn't need aside with a flick of her wrist.

“You hate me, don't you?” you ask, leaning against the locker beside her.

She gives you a side glance but doesn't fully look away from her locker. “What are you, five?” she asks. “I don't really care enough about you to hate you.”

“Rude.”

“It's the truth. As far as I'm concerned, you're better than a mosquito,” she says, continuing with sorting through her locker. “Annoying, but not something worth paying attention to.”

“Mosquito, really?”

She slams her locker shut and locks it. She turns to look at you, adjusting her backpack straps on her shoulders—a backpack that is covered in various patches and colorful pins. “What exactly do you want?”

“Spend Dollar Night at the track with me.”

She arches one eyebrow. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Come on, the ponies, the flat beer... you with money in your eyes, me with my hand on your ass…”

“You covered in my vomit,” she cuts you off. “That's what's going to happen. If I go within ten feet of whatever greasy-ass food joint and cheap liquor you're going to take me to.”

“Damn, you're feisty. I kinda like that.”

She scowls at your words. “And you're annoying. I kinda despise that.”

“Ouch,” you mock. “And you're a bit more than feisty. You're like... feisty on steroids. Are you always like this?”

Her scowl deepens, and in one second, she suddenly has one of your arms twisted behind your back and pinned to your torso.

She leans forward, her face so close to yours. “Maybe, if you stopped annoying me,” she whispers. “I'd stop acting like this.”

You flinch, letting out a low hiss. “Ow, ow-” You try to pull away from her grip, but she only tightens it. “Ow, okay, I get it—let go, let go!” 

She holds you still for a moment longer before roughly releasing her grip. You stagger forward, rubbing the spot where her hand had been. “What-” you gasp “-the hell was that for?”

“Consider it a learning experience, dipshit,”  she snaps, before stalking off, her long blue braid swinging behind her.

“You can't just-” you start to call after her, but she's already halfway down the hall. You huff rubbing your sore arm. 

Yep. Jinx is as prickly as a cactus. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

—

“She's a freaking Ronda Rousey,” you mutter into the phone, massaging your throbbing arm. “She damn near twisted my arm off!”

“Jinx? Did she hurt you?”

“Just my dignity.”

You hear Cait chuckle faintly. “I'll take that to mean it didn't go very well?”

“You could say that,” you grumble. “She's difficult.” You watch your clothes spin around in the washing machine. “I think this may take longer than you think, Cait. Waaay longer.”

“I can't just flirt my way through this,” you go on, moving to grab one of the nearby magazines to distract yourself. “She's smart, witty, and sassy—the whole package. Very pretty, too. But she's rude.” You shift your phone to fit between your shoulder and ear.

“Rude,” you stress again, flipping to a magazine page with random trivia questions on it. “Who the hell is rude these days? It's all sugarcoating, bullshit, and fake smiles.” You glance idly at the question titled 'How Compatible Are You with Your Ideal Partner?'. You scoff, turning the page. “She's downright ruthless.”

“Have you even tried asking her out?”

“Hell yes I have. I even tried asking her to go to Dollar Night at the track.”

“You tried asking her to go to the race track?”

“You don't think she's a fan of ponies and alcohol?” you reply, grinning.

“I think she's a fan of punching you in the face.”

“Yeah, she did not like that idea.”

There's a pause on the line.

“Okay, I'll admit that wasn't the smoothest plan.”

“Or smartest,” Cait interjects. “Anyway, are you reading a magazine right now?”

“I'm at the laundromat.”

“And you're reading a magazine.”

“To pass the time,” you justify.

“Mhm.”

“I'm boooored.” You set the magazine down on a nearby chair, turning back to watch your clothes spin around. “And I'm tired of watching my clothes spin around. It's boring. I haven't had a good date in ages.” You move to rest your head against the glass. “I need something interesting. Someone interesting.”

Your eyes move across the storefronts and streets outside of the laundromat.

Wait… It can't be...

But, yes.

Yes it is. It's Jinx's car.

Your gaze focuses on the shiny blue vehicle before shifting to Jinx, who gets out of the car and walks over to a nearby music store just down the road.

You hear Caitlyn's muffled voice. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, Cait, I heard you,” you lie, taking your eyes off her car to turn your attention back to the washing machine and your phone. “Uh, I'll call you back. I think I just saw Jinx.”

—

Jinx pushes the entrance door open, juggling a small bag of CDs in one hand and rifling through her purse in the other. Her lips form a small 'o' when she finally pulls her keys out...

...and looks up to see you sitting on the hood of her car. She groans to herself.

“Nice ride. Vintage fenders.” You turn around to face her, leaning back against the hood.

Jinx stops a few feet away from you, shifting the bag of CDs to the other hand. “Are you following me?”

“Nah,” you shrug. “I was at the laundromat,” you pause, gesturing to the building in front of the store she just walked out of. “Saw your car. Thought I'd say hi.”

“Hi,” she grumbles.

Jinx walks over to her car, but you quickly stand ahead of her, placing yourself between her and her vehicle. “You're not afraid of me, are you?”

“Why would I be afraid of you?” she retorts, her nose wrinkling.

“Some people are,” you reply. 

“I'm not.” “Maybe you're not afraid of me… but I bet you've thought about me naked.” You smirk, taking the time to wink at her.

“Am I that transparent?” she mutters. “I want you... I need you... Oh, baby, oh baby.” Jinx rolls her eyes dramatically as she tries to step around you, but you shift your body to block her path again.

“Now, don't ignore me,” you tease.

“Let me pass, I have places to be,” Jinx says irritably, trying to step around you for the third time, only for you to once again move and block her.

“Come on now,” you urge. “Just a few minutes of your time.”

“You're being a pest,” she complains. “What do you want?”

“Just a little bit of your time, that's all,” you answer, holding your hands up in surrender before resting them back on the car. “C'mon. You don't have anything better to do anyway, right?”

“Piss off,” Jinx snaps, reaching out and grabbing the handle. The door swings open, throwing you off balance and causing you to topple forward.

Jinx throws the bag into the passenger seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car. She doesn't hesitate to throw the car in reverse, and you have to lunge out of the way to avoid being hit.

RUDE! You scowl in Jinx's direction, watching her drive away. With a sigh, you reach into your pocket and grab your phone, heading back into the laundromat. You begin to dial Caitlyn's number.

The phone only rings once before it's picked up immediately. “Well? what happened?” she starts without any sort of introduction.

“I just upped my price,” you declare.

“What?”

“200 dollars a date.” You stand your ground. “In advance.”

“And why are you increasing the price?”

You sigh heavily, rubbing your forehead. “I told you she's difficult,” you remind her. “She's prickly, short-tempered, and violent,” you explain. “I'm increasing my price because I'm taking a hell of a lot more risk dealing with her.”

“Forget it.”

“Forget her sister, then.”

Silence falls for a heartbeat. Then, reluctantly, she grunts. “Fine. 200 dollars a date. But I want results.”

“No promises,” you warn her. “And first things first, we need to find some way to make Jinx actually want to go on a date with me. How well do you know her?”

Caitlyn hums. “She's Vi's sister, so we have some, ah…” She searches for the correct word. “History,” she finishes awkwardly. “But I'm not an expert on Jinx's inner workings, if that's what you're asking.”

“Great.” That really wasn't the answer you were hoping for. How was it that Caitlyn was apparently able to make this plan without knowing anything about Jinx? “Do you think Vi would have anything?”

“...Maybe,” she responds slowly. “I could probably ask Vi.” She pauses. “Actually,” Caitlyn continues. “I might know someone who... might know Jinx pretty well.”

“Who?”

“Ever heard of a kid named Ekko?”

—

He glances over his shoulder at you, a paintbrush in hand. “What do you want?”

After a bit of searching, you're able to find Ekko at his usual spot—painting the empty space on the school wall. Some of your friends mentioned that he usually hung out here during free periods.

“I want to know about your friend... Jinx.”

Ekko rolls his eyes, resuming his painting. “Yeah, sure, stranger I don’t even know.”

You huff in annoyance. “Alright, listen,” you begin. “I'm not here to cause trouble, or gossip, or any of that. I…” you pause, shifting uncomfortably. “I'm trying to ask Jinx out on a date,” you explain. “So I thought you might be able to help me.”

That makes Ekko pause. He blinks slowly, slowly glancing back over his shoulder at you. “…You're shitting me, right?”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I'm being serious, alright? and I'm not getting into some of the details, but I…” you pause awkwardly. “I kind of need this date to happen.”

“You need this date?” Ekko echoes, staring at you. “The hell does that mean?”

“I mean,” you reply, avoiding direct eye contact. “I just need it to happen, and for reasons I'm not going to disclose,” you add. “I need it to go really well. You get me?”

Ekko scoffs but nods his head. “Sounds like you're desperate or something.” He sets his brush down, turning around to face you. “Why Jinx, anyway?”

“I…” you start, not really sure how to explain this to Ekko without spilling every detail. “Let's just say my reasons are my own.”

“Hm.” He studies you up and down. “First off, who the hell even are you? how do I know you're not some creep trying to take advantage of Jinx?”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but then close it and sigh. “Okay, you have a point,” you admit. “But listen,” you soothe. “I'm not a creep. I'm a senior student, like you and Jinx. I want to ask Jinx on a date, and no one really knows her all that well, so I thought you could help me because she's your friend-”

Ekko shakes his head, picking up the brush once again. “Nah we're not that close anymore.” He gives you a sidelong glance. ���Jinx and I used to be close friends a few years ago,” he explains, returning his attention to the painting. “But things between us… got complicated.”

Juicy. But that’s none of your business, and definitely not Ekko's place to share. So you move on, clearing your throat. “Right. Um… Okay, so back to Jinx,” you begin. “You still know her better than most, right? you must have some good insight on her.”

“I don't know,” he replies slowly. “Yeah, I know a bunch of things about Jinx. But… honestly, there's just as much that I don't know.” He starts painting again. “She changes her mind like… every five seconds. She's unpredictable. Reckless. Wild. Dangerous.”

“I'm not here to psychoanalyze Jinx,” you clarify. “I just need to know… how the hell to even talk to her one-on-one, without her throwing a pencil at me or something.”

Ekko snorts. “Oh, that's easy.” He glances at you through his eyelashes. “Good luck.”

—

“Of all the places you want to meet up, you chose here?”

You straighten up and glance over at Caitlyn, who's standing off to the side, looking around the place. She looks rather out of place here, especially compared to the other customers in the pub—greasy-looking old men, rough-looking teenagers dressed in leather and denim, and drunken bums hanging around the slots.

Caitlyn grimaces as another patron spits tobacco juice to the floor. “Gross…” she mutters, wrinkling her nose.

You shrug, taking a puff from your cigarette. “You're never late,” you reply. “And this place is never busy. Figured it would give us privacy.”

“Right.” Caitlyn takes a seat on a nearby stool, folding her legs neatly. “So… how's Ekko?”

You line up the cue ball to the 8, taking one last look down the table before glancing at Caitlyn. “Um… he's good,” you reply. “A bit unhelpful, but that's alright.”

You aim the cue ball at the 8 again and give it a good hard smack, watching it glide across the table. It hits the 8 ball, which rolls a few inches before stopping. Damn. You’re just off.

“What about you, how's Vi?” you ask, taking a drag from your cigarette and exhaling a billowing cloud of smoke. You set the pool stick down.

Caitlyn coughs, fanning her hand in front of her face to try and clear the smoke away from her lungs. It doesn't work very well. “First thing you should know...” She snatches the cigarette from your hand and drops it to the floor. “She hates smokers.” She stomps on the butt to snuff it out.

“So, you’re telling me that I'm a-” You make air quotations with your fingers. “-non-smoker.”

“For now, yes.”

“Alright, alright. No smoking, got it.” You lean your pool cue on the wall. “Happy?”

“Another thing…” She purses her lips, eyes flicking over your features. “Vi mentioned that Jinx… likes pretty girls.”

Silence.

“Are you telling me I'm not pretty?”

Caitlyn jumps as soon as the words leave your mouth. “N-no!” She gestures at you. “You're pretty. Definitely pretty.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

Caitlyn reaches into her pocket, pulling out a thick sheet of paper with a few bullet points written on it. “Anyways… there's more.” She glances over the list, then looks back up at you. “Jinx likes: …art, drawing, bombs, explosions, tinkering, sweets, plushies, dogs, punk music...” She continues reading down the list. “Dislikes: teachers, school, rules, authority figures, boredom, being told what to do, being ignored…” 

She shoves the list into your hands, and you stare down at the words written in neat, orderly rows. “That's everything that I could get out of Vi.”

A few likes and a bunch of dislikes—what an absolute nutcase.

You look back up at Caitlyn. “So what does that give me? am I supposed to… bribe her with art supplies, draw her a picture, give her some sweets, then blow up a building?”

“Have you ever been to The Last Drop?”

You respond with a nod. You've been there a few times... it's usually filled with shady people, but the alcohol is reasonably priced.

“Letters to Cleo will be playing there tomorrow night.” 

“No.”

“Come on, it's just one night-” Caitlyn coaxes.

“No.”

She gives you a nudge. “Just assail your ears for one night. It's her favorite band, after all.”

It's a stupid idea. Spending your free time in a bar, listening to some god-awful music? It's the perfect recipe for a terrible night.

But if it's what Jinx likes...  “Fine.”

“Atta girl,” Caitlyn grins, clearly satisfied. She pulls out her phone, glancing down at the time as her fingers dance over the screen. “Oh… and I'm throwing a party on Friday night,” she says, looking back up at you. “It's the perfect opportunity.”

You blink. “Opportunity for what?”

“For you to ask out Jinx, of course.”

“…I'll think about it.”

—

Your car pulls up to a stop out front, the engine making a low noise. You step out of the car and start walking towards the entrance when you notice Sevika standing outside.

Sevika looks up, and her lips stretch into a smirk as she sees you. “Ah, my friend,” she greets. “It's been a while.”

You shake her hand. “It's good to see you again, Sev.”

Sevika eyes you up, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Didn't have you pegged for a fan,” she says. “Aren't they a bit too pre-teen belly-button ring for you?”

“Just a fan of a fan,” you reply. 

The door is slightly ajar, and you can faintly make out the music coming from inside.

“Did a blue-haired girl come in by chance?”

Sevika nods towards the door. “Just sent her through. She's with some other gal.”

You nod and head towards the entrance when Sevika calls out to you. “What happened to that girl you brought in last time?”

Ah, right. It has been a few months. “I dunno,” you reply with a shrug. “I just never called her again.”

Sevika chuckles and shakes her head. “That figures.”

You squeeze through the crowded floor and eventually find an open spot at the bar. The music from the stage is so loud you can feel the floor vibrating under your feet.

You flag down the bartender and place an order, then start idly scanning the crowd. You can make out a flash of blue hair, and your gaze lands on Jinx singing along to the chorus of the song.

You rest against the counter and watch Jinx dancing along to the music. She’s happy, and surprisingly, no “attitude” is present—not the usual scowls, or frowns, or cold looks.

Seeing her like this… giddy, with a wide smile and flushed face, makes you find yourself… smiling.

Huh. That’s... something.

—

Jinx, who is thisclose to having her eardrums explode, yells at the top of her lungs, “I NEED AGUA!”

“Sorry, what?” Lux yells over the music.

“I need agua!” Jinx yells again.

“Agua?”

Jinx nods and points to the bar.

“Alright!” Lux yells, but Jinx is already pushing past her through the crowd.

Jinx manages to reach the bar and signals for the bartender. She glances around as she waits, her eyes landing on you a few feet away. 

Shiiit.

Before she can catch your eyes, you look at a random patron nearby, pretending to be looking at something else.

The bartender walks up to Jinx, shouting over the music. “What can I get for you?”

“Two waters,” she responds, casting a glance back in your direction only to find you completely focused on the stage.

The bartender brings out a pair of water bottles from the cooler and sets them on the counter. Jinx fishes out some change and pays, then grabs the water bottles.

She approaches from behind and raps a knuckle on your shoulder. “If you're planning on asking me out again, you might as well do it already.”

Playing dumb, you gesture back at the stage. “Do you mind? you're kind of ruining it for me.”

Jinx seethes, but stays where she is. “You're not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”

The music dies down for a while to give the band a rest, so you no longer have to yell over the music. You turn to face her. “I know. I quit.”

“You... did?” Jinx gives you a weird look, trying to figure out your angle here. “Are you feeling alright?”

That's a pretty fair question, to be honest, because for once in your life, you're actively not trying to flirt with someone.

What's even more weird is that Jinx is actually engaging with the conversation. Jinx moves closer to the stool, standing beside you. “Since when?”

You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze. “Since… yesterday.”

“Yesterday? you quit smoking just yesterday?”

“Just yesterday.”

Jinx looks you up and down. “Why?”

You look over at the band, who are currently changing out their gear. “Because... apparently they're bad for you,” you mumble. With a shrug, you gesture back towards the stage. “They're no Bikini Kill or the Raincoats,” you reply. “But they're alright.”

You step into the crowd, and Jinx is surprised enough to be momentarily stupefied. “Wait-” she sputters before following you. “You know who the Raincoats are?”

You stop in the middle of the crowd, spinning to face her. “Why? don't you?” you ask. “I saw how you were dancing out there. I’ve never seen you look like that...”

“I.. well, I-” she stutters, before clearing her throat and collecting herself. “Yeah, I do,” she replies. “I'm into grunge and punk and stuff. Ever heard of Nirvana?”

You scoff. “Of course. Who hasn't?”

Jinx laughs, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear it. “Yeah, fair point. What about... Siouxsie and the Banshees?”

“Love them. But you can't tell me you don't know The Damned?”

Jinx's eyes light up at the mention of The Damned. “Hell yeah, they're awesome,” she exclaims, before frowning. “Wait, how do you know The Damned?”

You give yourself a pat on the back. Nailed it. “Excuse you, I have excellent taste in music,” you reply. “How do you know The Damned?”

“I'll have you know, I'm very into music,” she retorts. “I've got a collection of 1300 CDs. Mostly punk and grunge, but some 70s rock and other stuff.”

Her response is a pleasant surprise to you… and maybe attractive. But you squash that thought down because she's Jinx, and no way are you going to feel your heart flutter at anything this woman does.

You whistle. “Only 1,300? That's cute. I have almost 2,000.” 

“No way.” She shakes her head. “No WAY you have 2,000 CDs. You're bluffing.”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I've got 2,000 pieces of music in my home.”

“Damn. You got me beat, then.” She looks around the club, then looks back at you. “Anyway, I gotta-”

“Come to Caitlyn's party with me. Friday night,” you cut her off.

“-Why should I?” 

“-Because I guarantee you'll have a fantastic time.” 

She laughs at your persistence. “You never give up, do you?” she mutters before walking away through the large crowd.

“Was that a yes?” you yell after her.

Her only response is a middle finger held high in the air.

You cup your hands around your mouth. “I'll see you at 9:30 then!”

This is good. Not great, maybe, but not awful either. You didn't get kicked in the face for asking, so you're taking that as a win.

—

“How did it go?”

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel. “Hey, Cait…” you hesitate, glancing around at the empty street. “How much money does it take to buy 2,000 CDs?”

The line goes dead.

…

After a few minutes of silence, it rings again.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

[crushh-existz]

Get a load of this guy putting a watermark on smth bro definitely stole off the ass cracks of twt 😐

Farts politely

Shut the hell up

[crushh-existz]

HI!! i have a request <3

could you possibly do a ellie x reader where it’s readers family meeting joel and ellie? tlou au modern au i don’t mind whatever you like writing best.

readers family is kinda chaotic like they have quite a few siblings n their parents are crazy but in a loving way. maybe with joel and ellie being a bit taken aback shocked and what not, where it’s awkward but also cute??

this is like my second time ever requesting something on tumblr so idk if this is how i’m supposed to do it or not, sorry!!

˗ˏˋ𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫’𝐬 .ᐟ

𐔌.author's note.ᐟ ֹ₊꒱ this request was just soo... chef’s kiss—so detailed, so fucking adorable. honestly, i fear i might need more requests this specific, whether it’s smut or not. anywayyy, hope this one’s good enough for you :p

｡ﾟ 𝜗𝜚 warnings and word count‧ ₊ ꒱ approx 4.4k words, sfw for once (go touch grass u pervs), no use of y/n, cussing, and that's it ig?? shy ellie;(

The auburnette stood in the hallway, glaring at her reflection in the old, slightly crooked mirror. For the sixth fucking time, Ellie tugged at her hair, trying to wrestle every rogue strand into the pathetic excuse of a bun she’d managed to throw together. “Shit,” she hissed under her breath as the shorter pieces slipped free again, defiantly sticking out in every direction. Frustrated, she blew an angry puff of air at the mirror, her freckled nose scrunching in irritation.

In the living room, Joel was busy pretending not to notice her spiraling. He occupied himself by fluffing the pillows and adjusting the fluffy grey blanket for the third time, but out of the corner of his eye, he kept an eye on his kid. Ellie was practically vibrating with nerves, yanking at her clothes and fidgeting like she was about to meet the Pope. Joel smirked a little—she could act tough all day long, but he knew that she was practically shitting herself over meeting your parents.

The stubborn girl would rather gnaw off her arm than admit it, but Joel wasn’t blind. He saw right through the tough front she tried so desperately to keep up that panic was eating at her from the inside, the kind she refused to show. She thought it made her look weak—not just to her dad, but to everyone. The type of vulnerability she could not afford, at least not today. Her eyes had barely gotten some rest last night; sleep felt like a distant dream, and the entire night felt like it dragged on. She tossed and turned, trying to find comfort, but even her trusted stars projector—vigorously astronaut-shaped—had failed her this time.

It wasn’t about her fearing your parents were the most homophobic individuals on earth—she knew they weren’t. After all, you’d been over at their place a dozen times, and from your stories, your parents had always seemed cool enough. Strict as hell at times, sure, but not assholes. Still, Joel got it. There was a difference between “not hating” and actually liking someone, and Ellie wanted them to like her. Badly.

Perhaps it was the fear that if they didn’t like her, if they didn’t think she was good enough for you, they’d tell you to end things. That thought haunted her, sitting heavy in her chest, because she knew how much you meant to her, and the last thing she wanted was for that to be taken away—especially over something as fragile as their approval.

As far as Joel was concerned, his kid walked on fucking water. If anyone dared even to breathe wrong in Ellie’s direction, he was ready to throw hands. For the red-brunette’s sake, he promised he’d play nice and that he’d bite his tongue. 

“Don’t scare ’em off, Dad,” she’d said, glaring at him like he was some rabid dog she had to leash up before a walk. And yeah, the Miller’s man did have the habit of being a bit intimidating, but when it came to Ellie, Joel simply made sure his daughter felt like she wasn’t walking into enemy territory. His protective instincts were perennially on high alert, even though he knew full well his daughter could handle herself. Your parents might’ve seemed decent enough, but “decent” didn’t always mean trustworthy—or good enough for his kid.

Nothing against you, of course. Joel liked you, though he’d never admit it out loud. You were good to Ellie in ways he hadn’t seen anyone else be. Patient when she was closed off, constant when her moods got intense and unpredictable. You got her to open up, something Joel had never quite managed himself. 

He glanced back toward the hallway, catching Ellie muttering to herself as she straightened her hoodie for the hundredth time.

“You look fine, kid,” Joel called out, his voice gruff but warm.

“Shut up,” Ellie snapped, but her lips twitched like she was holding back a grin.

Their gazes met as a car pulled into the driveway, followed by the sound of doors slamming and the excited chatter of children. 

“They’re here,” Ellie murmured, already heading toward the door.

Joel cracked his knuckles. “I’ll get it,” he grunted, stepping in front of the nervous girl like a brick wall, blocking her path.

“Joel,” Ellie groaned, rolling her eyes. She huffed, silently praying that her old man wouldn’t embarrass her. 

When the door swung open, there you were, standing in the epicenter of the barely contained chaos that was your family. Your expressions wavered between composure and tension, a façade of polite smiles and rigid shoulders, as you juggled a random assortment of things your mom had insisted on bringing—a delicately frosted cake barely balanced in one hand, a potted plant tucked against your side, and a bottle of red wine clutched tightly in the other. The cake wobbled with every shift of your weight, the spiky plant’s leaves kept brushing against your coat, and the wine bottle’s neck slipped slightly in your grip.

At the same time, your younger brother gripped your sleeve with a determination that only a child could possess, certain that the world would end if he let go. His small fingers tightened with every passing second, and he tugged insistently, babbling a rapid stream of words about something utterly incomprehensible. With a sigh of exasperation, you swatted his hand away—not harshly but firmly enough to earn a whine of protest.

You forced an awkward smile onto your face, the strain of the moment evident in the tightness of your jaw. “Hi, Mr. Miller,” you greeted, your voice polite yet tinged with an edge of weariness. 

Joel gave a slight acknowledging nod, his faint smile barely cracking through his usual stoic demeanor. You noticed his hair looked combed, like he’d actually styled it for once, and his beard was trimmed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened there—Ellie must’ve bullied the fuck out of him to clean up. Not that Joel needed it; the man looked way too good for being in his early 50s. Every single friend Ellie brought over seemed to have a thing for him, and it drove her absolutely crazy.

“Hey there, kid,” Joel said warmly, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on in.” His voice was easy, but there was something sharp in the way his eyes flicked toward your parents as they trailed in behind you, one after another. His expression tightened just a fraction; he was sizing them up, reading every micro-expression like some CIA agent scanning for threats. Before you could get too caught up in the awkwardness, your girlfriend swooped in to save you. She reached out with a quick, reassuring smile, grabbing the cake first and then helping you unload the rest of the stuff you were precariously balancing.

Your mom stepped toward Joel without a second thought, her hand already outstretched, her nails messily painted, her grip firm and brimming with enthusiasm. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said, flashing a bright, almost blinding smile—one you’d clearly inherited.

Joel shook her hand, giving a polite but restrained nod. “You too.” he replied, his tone cordial but careful as if he were still trying to figure her out.

Without missing a beat, she launched into an animated explanation about the potted plant she’d brought as a gift. She held it up like a trophy, explaining—almost too quickly—how it was meant to ward off the evil eye and keep bad energy at bay. Her words tumbled out with the kind of frenetic energy that left little room for interruption. All Joel could do was nod along, filing her away in his mind as quirky but likely harmless. But then, just as quickly as she’d been talking, your mom whipped around, her gaze locking on your siblings with the precision of a wild animal spotting prey. She crouched down to their level, her face instantly shifting from warm and welcoming to full-on mom mode.

“What did I say?” she scolded, her tone sharp, scolding. “Say hi. Say please and thank you. Do not break anything. Do not touch everything you see. Be respectful. Got it?” The kids nodded quickly, wide-eyed and terrified. “Hang. your. jackets.” the words came out like a hissed threat. Joel stood off to the side, watching the whole scene with a mix of amusement and wariness. He didn’t miss how much you looked like your mom—the same eyes shape, the same smile.

“Ellie!” You finally spotted her after leaving her side for a second, half-hidden behind Joel, her presence barely noticeable until you called her name. She looked like she’d been trying to blend into the background, already wearing that familiar expression—the one that made her look like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole and make her disappear.

Joel noticed how Ellie’s expression softened whenever she looked at you, the way a gentle smile tugged at her lips when you kissed her cheek. But just as quickly, his attention shifted back to your dad. He stepped forward, hand extended, and Joel met it without hesitation. You and Ellie stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes flicking between the two of them. They didn’t blink. Didn’t speak. They just locked eyes and gripped each other’s hands so tight their knuckles turned white. The staring contest dragged on, and neither one wanted to be the first to back down.

“They’re gonna get along so great,” you muttered under your breath, a faint chuckle escaping as you nudged your girlfriend in the ribs.

Ellie groaned internally, “Yeah, sure,” she mumbled, barely glancing your way. In her head, the auburnette couldn’t stop the same question from bouncing around over and over: “Why can’t my dad be normal?”

You reached out and pinched the side of her hoodie, tugging lightly to get her attention. “Hey,” you called out, your tone soft and playful, trying to ease her nerves. “Where’s my hug?”

Ellie sighed, the kind of sigh that carried equal parts nerves and mild embarrassment. “Sorry, babe,” she muttered under her breath, voice so quiet it barely registered. She wasn’t about to let anyone hear her tossing around pet names—not in front of both your parents. That was a line of mortification she wasn’t ready to cross. Her arms parted, stiff at first, letting you slide in against her. She gave you a quick, clumsy squeeze as if she had never hugged anyone before, her hands settling on your back like she was trying way too hard to play it cool.

Behind you, Joel and your dad finally broke their handshake, both subtly flexing their fingers like they were prepping for round two of an intense staring contest.

This was gonna be a long night.

Your siblings wandered up to you, staring with those big, unblinking eyes kids get when they’re sizing someone up. Ellie shifted her head slightly where it rested on your shoulder, her gaze dropping to the two pint-sized humans at your feet.

She’d heard all about them—oh, had she heard about them. Mainly in the form of you ranting on Facetime about how they’d broken your make-up or gotten on your nerves. But she had never had the pleasure of meeting these two little gremlins face to face.

Your sister, eight years old and armed with enough attitude to put anyone in their place, stood with her arms crossed, clearly the boss of the duo. And then there was your five-year-old brother, wide-eyed and innocent, looking like he hadn’t done a single thing wrong in his entire life. He clung to your leg like a baby koala, his fingers wrapped around you as if he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. He had a habit of doing that—sometimes it was cute, and other times it was downright annoying. Social anxiety played a big part in this, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was his way of coping with the noise and the strange faces around him.

Ellie’s brows raised slightly. Cute kids, she guessed, but they were staring like she was an alien. Feeling way too watched, she awkwardly pulled away from your hug, stuffing her hands into her hoodie pockets. You grinned and crouched down, quickly introducing your siblings to Ellie. Before she could say much, your mom appeared, peeling herself away from whatever small talk your dad and Joel were grumbling through.

“You must be Ellie,” your mom said excitedly, her eyes sparkling as they locked on your girlfriend.

Ellie found herself momentarily paralyzed, her breath catching in her throat. The woman in front of her radiated an overwhelming exuberance—a bright, vibrant energy that struck her in the face like the first rays of morning sunlight. It felt starkly different from what she was used to. She managed a slight nod, blushing faintly. Clearing her throat, she tried to salvage the moment by extending her hand as if she had practiced it a thousand times in front of the mirror—and she probably had. 

“Uh, yeah, nice to meet you, Mrs—”

Your mom wasn’t having any of that. She swept Ellie into a hug so tight it could’ve easily cracked ribs, holding on like she was reuniting with a long-lost daughter. Ellie stiffened immediately, her eyes darting to you in full panic mode as your mom started rambling, words spilling out faster than Ellie could process.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy to finally meet you! You’re just gorgeous! She’s told me so much about you—it’s like I already know you! Look at you!”

You winced, mouthing a quick “sorry” to Ellie, knowing damn well how much she hated being touched by strangers. Your mom held on for what felt like an eternity—a solid minute at least—before finally releasing her, but not without grabbing Ellie’s hands and holding onto them like she wasn’t quite ready to let go. 

Joel, watching the whole thing from the corner of his eye, let out a low sigh, somewhere between amused and relieved. At least your mom was being nice... just a lot.

“You’re way prettier than all those pictures she’s shown me,” your mom declared, beaming as Ellie’s face burned redder than ever.

Ellie blinked, unsure how to respond to that, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like “Thanks.”

“Yeah, well, to be fair, she was wearing a dino costume in the one I showed you,” you quipped, your shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

Your girlfriend’s head snapped toward you so fast you’d think she’d pulled a muscle. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open like you’d just betrayed her. “Are you serious right now?” she sputtered. “You said you wouldn’t show anyone that!”

You threw your hands up in mock defense, grinning, “It was my wallpaper!” you shot back.

Time seemed to stretch on, every second dragging painfully slow, each interaction awkward and strained as if no one quite knew how to act around each other. Your mom, ever the social butterfly, had offered to help Joel with dinner while you and Ellie set the table. Meanwhile, the kids chased after each other around, their discordant, shrill cries echoing through the living room incessantly. When it felt like the noise would never end, your mom emerged from the kitchen, her voice suddenly harsh, cutting through the giggles.

“Corner. Now!” she barked, her tone so forceful that even Joel flinched. The little boy, barely five years old, stomped his feet, throwing a tantrum as he trudged to the nearest corner. His face twisted into a dramatic pout. Joel blinked, trying to wrap his head around the switch in your mom’s attitude. The poor man couldn’t decide if he was impressed or terrified, partly convinced that she had bipolar disorder.

A few minutes later, as Joel wandered back into the living room to grab something, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. A gnome-sized figure stood perfectly still, facing the wall with such intensity that, for a split second, the middle-aged man’s heart skipped a beat. Corner punishment had completely slipped his mind, and the sight sent his thoughts spiraling into all the horror movies Ellie had dragged him into over the years. But when it finally clicked, he exhaled with an almost too relieved laugh.

Not wanting to linger longer than necessary, Joel backed out of the room, muttering something under his breath, and headed back toward the kitchen. Not even a few steps in, your sister seemed to materialize from nowhere, trailing behind him like a tiny, persistent shadow. She bounced on her toes, her wide eyes full of quiet curiosity, studying him like she had never seen another human being before.

It was a level of curiosity that made Joel shift uncomfortably. He’d always been sure that he was terrible with kids, despite the countless times he’d had to deal with a bratty baby Ellie—and somehow managed to survive it. The more he looked down at the little girl following his every step, the more he swore she was on the verge of bombarding him with the kind of questions that only Ellie used to throw at him.

Joel tried to ignore her at first, but it was hard to brush off a kid practically breathing down your neck. She was like a shadow, hovering just close enough to make him feel uneasy. After a few moments, he couldn’t take the weight of her silent stare any longer. He glanced down, half-expecting her to say something, maybe ask for a glass of water or whatever it was that kids needed.

“Yeah, kiddo?” Joel muttered, his voice coming out a bit softer than he’d intended.

“Are you my new dad?” she asked naively, completely deadpan.

Joel froze for a second, blinking in surprise before a chuckle slipped past his thin, dry lips. “Uh, no, kid. Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

She tilted her head slightly, processing his response like she was debating whether or not to believe him. “My dad doesn’t cook,” she said matter-of-factly.

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Not everyone knows how to cook.”

She gave him a long, assessing look. “You’re old,” she stated bluntly, then squinted at him like she was putting him under a microscope. “Are you my grandpa?”

Joel couldn’t help but let out a low laugh, muttering under his breath, “You sure are a weird kid.” The man hoped she wouldn’t catch it, but he realized she did when her brows shot up in surprise, and she grinned.

“And no, I’m not your grandpa. I’m just Joel.”

She nodded, “I’m just Melody.” 

The little girl said nothing for a while, her silence almost convincing Joel the conversation was over. But then she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “One time,” she began, pausing for dramatic effect, “I heard my parents making cookies in the bedroom. Mom was crying.”

Joel stiffened, his brain grinding to a halt as the horrifying realization hit him. 

Oh, hell no. 

Unsure whether to laugh or be deeply disturbed, he opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was an awkward, stuttered “Uh…” as he scratched the back of his neck, his mind racing to find the right words. 

Thankfully, before he could even attempt to make the situation less weird, your mom came rushing back in from the bathroom, her expression a little too composed, as if she had seen this kind of thing happening a hundred times before. 

“Hah, that’s enough, darling!” she cut in with a nervous laugh, gently steering her daughter away from Joel. “Why don’t you go play with JayJay?” she suggested, her voice dripping with sugary sweetness as she gave the girl a light push toward the boy still standing in the corner, thoroughly miserable and grounded.

Less than ten minutes later, dinner was finally on the table. Everyone shuffled into their spots, and the atmosphere felt like it was on the edge of something—a little awkward, a little tense. Your dads sat at the head of the table, both of them staring at each other like they were about to go into battle. It was as if some invisible competition was brewing, unspoken but clearly present. 

It was you and Ellie who tried to lighten the mood, mostly with your mom talking nonstop, her chatter filling the silence like it was her job—the woman didn’t just talk, she yelled her thoughts out loud. The kind of woman who could hold a conversation with herself for hours and never run out of things to say. Your dad was on the other side of the spectrum—as quiet as a cemetery. Even Joel wasn’t this quiet. He’d occasionally grunt or mutter something, while your dad would just stare across the table like he was sizing Joel up or keeping track of some mental scoreboard.

Who would’ve guessed that all it took to break the tension was the mention of… golf?

Dinner was long over, and the silence in the living room felt like it had its own weight, thick and heavy in the air. Your mom, however, wasn’t one to let silence reign for long—she couldn’t stand it. So, she dove right in, ready to end it for good.

“So, Joel,” she started, keeping her tone light and casual, “Ellie mentioned you’re into golf?”

Your dad’s ears perked up at the mention of his favorite hobby, and just like that, the walls started coming down. The two of them fell into the easy back-and-forth of golf talk, the tension loosening just a little as they swapped stories about terrible swings, the best courses in the area, and that Anderson guy who had beat them both that one time (and they hadn’t forgotten it).

It was strange to see your dad, typically a man of few words, suddenly come alive as he launched into a topic that clearly mattered to him. Joel, for his part, stayed quiet, nodding along, his gaze surprisingly attentive. For a fleeting moment, things felt normal. The sound of your siblings’ giggles began to shift into something softer, more familiar—like it was filling Joel’s walls with warmth rather than testing his patience. 

Joel leaned back, his fingers tapping on the edge of his glass as he listened to your dad go on about some ridiculous story involving a water hazard and an old club that your dad swore was a “game-changer.”

“I swear, the damn thing was practically cursed,” your dad chuckled, his hands mimicking the shape of a club in the air. “Every time I swung it, it felt like the ball was purposefully dodging the fairway, no matter how good my aim was.”

Joel smirked, shaking his head. “Sounds like it was more your swing than the club, buddy.”

Your dad let out a hearty laugh. “You think so? I’ll tell ya, it was a damn good swing back in the day. The club just had a mind of its own.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice like he was about to share some big secret. “But seriously, there’s nothing like being out on the course, just you and your thoughts... and a bit of that whiskey to calm the nerves.”

Joel’s eyes lit up, the shift in conversation immediately catching his attention. “Now you’re speaking my language,” his tone much lighter, like the man finally found some common ground with your dad. “Whiskey and golf, that’s where the magic happens, right?”

Your dad grinned, nodding like he’d found a fellow enthusiast. “Hell yeah, a good pour and a good game—ain’t much better.” 

You stood there from a distance, watching the exchange with your girlfriend by your side, feeling that familiar tug of pride. It was happening right in front of you. “Told you they’d get along just fine,” you repeated your earlier statement with a grin, not able to help the sense of satisfaction bubbling up in your chest.

The freckled girl glanced at you, disbelief on her face. “I swear, I didn’t see this coming,” Ellie muttered, shaking her head but huffing out a laugh at the same time.

The night had ended with everyone scattered around the living room, still laughing over stupid little things. James had practically glued himself to Ellie, going on and on about dinosaurs with all the enthusiasm of a kid who’d just discovered the concept of a T-rex. Similarly, Melody clung to Ellie, showering her with compliments every few seconds, which made the cinnamon-haired girl squirm uncomfortably at the attention.

When it was time to leave, the awkwardness was long gone. You and Ellie were standing by the door, both of you feeling like it was a good night—a weird one, but good. 

Your mom, of course, wasn’t done. She pulled Ellie into one last suffocating hug, practically overwhelming her with affection. “You guys should have a sleepover or something,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness as she squeezed Ellie so tight you half wondered if she was trying to break her in half. “Or come over for lunch. Or dinner. You’re always welcome, sweetheart,” she added, pulling away just enough to meet Ellie’s eyes. Then, in one smooth motion, she quipped, “I mean, it’s not like you can get each other pregnant, right?”

The innocent joke had Ellie sputtering and choking on her breath, her eyes widened with shock, and her face burned crimson in a way that seemed almost surreal. 

“Mom!” you shrieked, mortified, your face now flushed but nowhere near as deep a shade as your girlfriend’s.

“Relax!” your mom exclaimed defensively, “Can’t you take a joke?”

Joel and your dad were standing just a few feet away, “Sorry ‘bout the vase again,” your dad muttered sheepishly, still not over the whole incident with your siblings and that expensive-looking vase they had knocked over. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“Nah, no need for that,” he muttered, brushing off his worries with an easy wave of his hand. “So,” he started tentatively, with the hint of a grin tugging at his thin lips, “When’re you up for a round?” The question hung in the air, a casual invitation laced with a playful challenge. “I’ve been itching for a real opponent. You think you’re up to it?”

They exchanged numbers before he left, already planning to hang out together or play golf—you weren’t sure.

When the door clicked shut, both Joel and Ellie let out a weary sigh. The freckled girl just stared at the door for a moment, blinking as she let the day settle in. “They’re nice,” she murmured, almost as if still processing it all.

“Yeah, not bad.”

[crushh-existz]

caitvi dancing uay

[crushh-existz]

A Fresh Start [series masterlist] Jinx ୨ৎ reader !

⋆ This fic takes place after the events of Season 2, where Jinx [now going by Powder] moves away to a faraway town in the middle of nowhere. As she struggles to settle in and process everything, she catches sight of you and is instantly starstruck.

tags || fluff / strangers to more (whatever that means ammirite) / slight stalking that’s taken lightly / self deprecation (yum) / SFW!!! status || ongoing! near its end. [series playlist]

[part i] After choosing to break the cycle, Jinx [now Powder] tries to find her place in the countryside away from everything she once knew, drawn to someone who seems to embody everything she's wanted but never deserved.

[part ii] When the mysterious new girl in town makes a lasting first impression, you make it your goal to befriend and welcome her to the town.

[part iii] Powder can't stop thinking about your earlier interactions and is sure she messed everything up. Except this time she has concepts of a plan to fix it.

[part iv] She's weird, she's creepy, she's a total stalker, and now she's... loitering outside your door...?

[part v] Powder finally made it to the hangout stage (good for her!), and guess she never really realized how good talking to you one on one would feel.

part vi in the works!!

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[crushh-existz]

he just made his first roblox boy/girlfriend

[crushh-existz]

☆ 𐙚˙✧˖

ive had this idea for sooo longg. Jinx!whos braids are her prized possession. so when your hands end up in her freshly rebraided hair when shes eating you out, she has to stop everything shes doing (abusing your cunt) to scold you.

“fuck jinx, right there.” you pant, back arching on the bed as your girlfriend devours you entirely. now as soon as you hands snake into the blue hue of her braided locks, you KNOW you’ve messed up. eyes eyes squeeze up, and you wince just THINKING about incoming lecture youve received dozens of times before. you curse under you’re breath when jinx stops her tongue. quickly you try to fix her now frizzy hair frantically.

“how many times do i have to tell you not to touch the braids, literally ANYTHING BUT the braids.” she fakes irritation, lifting her head from her spot between your legs and instead sits criss cross between them. she places your legs over her own. of course this silly girl has seemingly forgotten about eating you out and is way more worried about her hair. droning on and on about how long it takes for her to braid her ankle length hair, and how your going to be the one rebraiding it after messing it up. you giggle at her antics.

“im sorryyyyyyy.” you giggle again.

“oh is this funny to you toots?” she points up at her puffy roots, a toothy smile on her face.

“eh, i mean a little.” you shrug, stifling a laugh. she looks like shes just gotten electrocuted. jinx climbs over your body and attacks you with tickles. her hands finding the spot that has you rolling around in a laughing fit immediately.

“funny now?? huh? huh?” she taunts, now straddling you. honestly she’s probably laughing more than you. you try to push her off of you when your stomach starts to cramp up from giggling so much. she gives in after you threaten to pee yourself between huffs. once you’ve caught your breath you tease her.

“god ur so annoying.”

“oh and im going to be even more annoying when i make you unbraid and rebraid my hair later tonight.” she drags herself between your thighs again.

“pfftt as if.”

she kisses your thighs and looks back up at you and deadpans her face.

“oh im being so for real.” she flashes a grin a resumes licking you up like nothing happened.

a/n: i love this silly girl. loser!jinx core? i have a loser!ellie obsession and now i’ve created loser!jinx… i think i have a type😓

[crushh-existz]

Streamer Ellie HCs

Warnings: lower case intended..., NOT proofread at all..., its actually so shit so shh

-loser!ellie who made it through freshman and sophmore year of being a complete loner other than Jesse and Dina keeping her company but even then, she had absolutely no classes with them after freshman year.

-loser!ellie mid sophmore year she got bored and streamed her playing filled fortnite squads (it took her 4 hours trying to set it up with the most grainy ass camera she could find from joel that he used when he worked in customer service. she also got 10 views MAX!!)

-loser!ellie she looked back at the footage after school one day and her ass went onto capcut and put the most stupidest clips she could find of herself and posted it on one of her many alt accounts on tiktok.

after rewatching that bitch at least 20 times and giggling her ass off, she went to bed swaddled in her dino sheets

she didn't even realize she had fallen asleep at around 2 am and woke up super late, forgetting her phone at home

-loser!ellie had to sit through all her classes bored as FUCKK without her brawl stars to get through her boring classes (dont ask it was the stupidest mobile game i could think of and idk anything abt it) and the only game that wasn't locked away by GoGuardian was slope.io (her highscore is 23)

-loser!ellie went about her day as jolly as one who is drowning in assignments could be. she hung out with jesse and dina at lunch and surviving her last two periods before walking home humming her favorite songs pretending she has her phone and wired headphones (that most definately need to be retired after 6 years of torture, half of which were from joel using them)

once she actually got home, kicking off her butchered converse onto her bedroom floor as she flopped onto her bed

-loser!ellie finally got to open her phone to browse through her notifications and streaks dina for some reason made her keep, she noticed a fat chunk of them being from tiktok

at first she thought it was just jesse getting home early and sending her posts but it was actually from her stupid capcut video (she didnt even remove the watermark at the end)

her video for some reason blew up.. she literally flew up to sit on her bed scrolling through all the comments.

"wait why r u actually funny"

"mind you this is my first impression of u"

"why is ur camera quality worse than my dead grandmas health.."

"in my mind we're actually bestfriends come out im in ur closet."

of course among that, theres also random hate comments like

"this pmo" and petty shit like that.

she giggled by replying to them with the most stupidest things

@/player222schesticals im js a natural arent i

@/user283678383257819 i hope it lasts

@/therealauthormorgan911 erm tell her dust i said hi

@/divaa283628 how'd u know i was a scissor sister dafauq

-streamer!ellie immediatly after she called dina "DUDE IM FLIPPING FAMOUS"

dina thought she was high off her ass and told her yeah right before hanging up on her ass.

ellie then proceeded to send a link to her alt and dina was actually blown away

"woah els.. you should pay me to be your manager."

-streamer!ellie laughed in her face (she asked dina to manage her shit a week later)

-loser!ellie's following grew and she branched her gaming to other things, mostly shorter story games that she finds off steam for 1 cent. every so often the game is actually really good with life changing plot (ellie's bawling by the end of it)

obviously she still plays stupid shooter games like fortnite and OW but she's too scared to touch COD (too many sweats she says)

-streamer!ellie absolutely LOVES to troll on GTA with Jesse it's literally her favorite thing to do EVERRR!!! the public js eats it up like candy, putting her in comps whenever she would accidently blow herself up or something (again dont know anything about this game at ALLL!!!)

-loser!ellie absolutely loves scowering tiktok for stupid little edits of herself and saving them all

she's quite cocky behind the screen and loves interacting w/ her community online but gets so awkward when she gets recognized in public or at school for the few audio clips of her going viral (it's okay cuz dina and jesse help her through it!!)

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A/N: okay chat these were just heehees and haahaas bro. i randomly decided to do it and I thought it was funny and lowk sat there and actually wrote w/o stopping.. tbh there was more to this but like i cringed and deleted all that but i liked it up until this point. there were probably part 2 if i figure out what to write and probably x reader version too FHEIWF anyway its fr shit but this was js for funsies ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ