currently-exsisting

[currently-exsisting]

Sweetener

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: matcha has always been too bitter for your taste, but your new coworker seems to love it, especially when she makes you taste it every single day. warnings/themes: fluff and angst, friends to lovers, coffee shop, mordern au, barista!jinx, barista!reader, jessica words: 18.5k notes: just 2 broke (tired, stubborn, idiot, proud) college students in a shitty city

Working as a barista, you're used to seeing all sorts of people.

Most times it's just a bunch of early morning adults rushing through with their quick coffee pickup before work or the mid-afternoon college students stopping by for their third/fourth cup of the day to fight off the dark circles under their eyes or the late night studiers trying to consume enough coffee to finish their all-nighters for the upcoming exams.

But you can't please everyone all the time. Some of the people are just downright arrogant.

“Whatever.” They wave their hand in the air, as though swatting away an annoying fly. “Anyway, I need a matcha latte.”

You try to keep the grimace off your face. Not only does matcha taste like grass, matcha is expensive as hell. And it's always the stuck-up pricks that ask for matcha lattes.

“Yes, anything else?”

They look you up and down with a scoff. “Did I stutter? yes, that'll be all.”

You grit your teeth, trying to keep from throttling the prick then and there. It's not only just unprofessional, but you'd probably lose your job. And you need this job. You type their order, being careful not to say something rude.

“Great,” they say as they pull out a credit card.

You ring the total up and hand the card back, watching as they slide it back into their wallet.

“And you better get it right this time, it was too hot last time,” you hear them say before taking a seat at a nearby table.

Too hot. The last time you made it for them, you were careful to keep it at the right temperature—but apparently, even that wasn't good enough for that uptight person over there.

You grumble to yourself as you get to work making the matcha latte. 

Carefully getting the perfect blend of matcha powder and water. Steaming the milk to the perfect temperature, ensuring it isn't too hot for the entitled prick, but also not too cold.

You grumble again, knowing full well the tip they're going to leave you won't be anything more than fifty cents or nothing at all.

You look at the clock. Only four hours left of this shift. Only four hours.

—

“You alright?” 

You glance up from shoving your apron into a locker as Jayce, the cafe owner, walks over.

Is it that obvious you're not doing so well? You shrug. “I'm fine. Just glad it's quitting time, y'know?”

You're really not fine. This day was just awful. Between classes, this shift, and the never ending classwork load, you're ready to collapse from exhaustion. But you don't want to bother Jayce with your problems. The guy's already got enough on his plate running this café.

When you shut the locker, you catch Jayce eyeing you with concern, but he doesn't push further.

“Speaking of,” he starts, changing the topic. “You'll be getting a new co-worker tomorrow. Maddie's moved to another city.” He leans against a wall, crossing his arms. “Can you show them the ropes? I won't be here tomorrow.”

You give him a weary smile. “Can do.” Sure, training's easy, and showing them how to make coffee and deal with difficult customers isn't that hard. But what if they suck? What if they're lazy? What if they're incompetent?

You sigh, knowing that you're getting ahead of yourself. It's all conjecture right now. For all you know, this new co-worker could be great.

Jayce seems to notice your exhaustion, and he smiles reassuringly. “Get some rest.”

Right… rest. How the hell are you supposed to rest when you still have three classes to stress about, a mountain of classwork, and a new person to train at a job tomorrow?

“Maybe I should,” you reply lazily. You're not sure if you'll be able to get rest with the load of classwork waiting for you in your apartment, but at this point, you feel too exhausted to care. You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulders, giving a tired wave. “See you.”

He waves back. “Have a good night.”

You exit the cafe, a chill wind hitting your face as you step out onto the sidewalk.

Tomorrow is going to suck.

Tomorrow is waking up at the ass crack of dawn, half dead, and dragging yourself to several classes.

Tomorrow is getting bitched out by entitled pricks who need their overcomplicated, overpriced caffeinated crap just to feel awake.

Tomorrow is the same old bullshit.

You're already dreading tomorrow.

—

Weekends. The two days of respite from the hellhole of college—at least, it's supposed to be. When you arrive at the cafe on a Saturday morning, the sun is just beginning to rise as you park your bike nearby and make your way inside.

You step through the door and are greeted by Jayce, standing by the counter. And next to him is a blue-haired girl. Must be the newbie.

“Morning,” you greet Jayce with a tired yawn. You set your belongings in the locker before walking over to the counter.

“Morning,” Jayce greets back with a smile, nodding towards the girl. “This is Jinx, the new barista I mentioned,” he tells you, confirming your suspicions.

“Jinx,” you repeat, looking her up and down.

Blue hair with two braids, and a chin-length swoop of hair on the right side of her face. She's probably around your age. Despite the early hour, she looks far too cheerful and energetic.

Jinx's eyes lands on you, and she smiles broadly. “That's me,” she chirps.

You introduce yourself, and Jayce nods in approval. “I've gotta go,” he says, putting on his coat. “I trust you can take it from here.” He pats you on the back as he walks past. “See you later.” And with that, he's out the door.

You turn back to Jinx, noticing her eyes wandering around the café. “So, uh,” you start awkwardly, “have you worked in a café before?”

Jinx snaps her attention to you. “Nope.”

“Okay… that's not a big deal,” you assure her. “I'll just walk you through everything.”

She nods, and you begin the training.

You start by showing her the basics. Operating the coffee machines—which are pretty damn fancy and confusing at first. Explaining the menu, the prices, and the specials of the day. You tell her about the regulars and the usual customers, and she seems to listen closely. 

After the basics, you get to the actual coffee-making. You start with a simple latte. You demonstrate the process, showing her how to prepare the espresso and steam the milk. She watches closely and even tries to mimic your steps.

Her first attempt is... messy. The espresso is weak, and the milk isn't steamed right. You point out her mistakes and try to guide her through the process again. She tries again… and again, it looks like a mess.

“Here—watch.” You adjust her grip on the pitcher. “You're holding it wrong. Try pouring again.”

She nods and tries once more, this time managing to make a decent pour.

“Not bad,” you praise. “Keep that up and you'll be good in no time.”

Jinx grins, but then her gaze falls to her hands. “Not so sure about that.”

You follow her gaze and spot the multiple band aid wrapped around her fingers. Her band aids seem to almost be covering every single finger. It's a little weird that her bandages cover her fingers of all things.

But you don't pry.

She sets the pitcher down, and you turn to glance at the clock on the wall. The clock reads 7:36 AM. It's still early, but the cafe opens at 8 AM.

“Hey,” you begin, “I was thinking…” You motion at the clock. “We still have time before opening. Wanna try making something different?”

She nods eagerly. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

“Alright.” You walk over to the cupboard. “What would you like to make?”

“Hmm, something... fun,” she hums, fingers tapping on the counter. “Like... matcha?” She shrugs. “It's my favorite.”

Matcha. That disgusting green tea powder that all these rich assholes seem to worship. And if you hear one more person saying it tastes rich or some other dumb bullshit...

You hate matcha. But if Jinx's favorite drink is matcha, then fine.

You shove down your own disdain for the drink and give her a strained smile. “You like matcha?”

“Yeah. It's delicious!” She's much more energetic than you've ever been.

You open the cupboard and sift through the supply drawers, pulling out the ingredients for a matcha latte. Jinx's eyes lock onto the ingredients that you place on the counter.  “Why do you love matcha so much?” you ask.

“Uh, it tastes good! Matcha cake, matcha ice cream, matcha mochi, matcha tea... Oh! Matcha pudding is really good too.”

She seems very enthusiastic about the drink. So much so that you wonder if she's done an advertisement for it before.

“You know,” you start, measuring out the matcha and starting the water to boil in the kettle. “For someone who seems like they'd be more into sweet and sugary things... you like some stuff like matcha.”

“Eh, I also like sweet stuff, but I like matcha better.” Makes sense. Some people just like different tastes.

The water boils, and you spoon the powdered green tea into a cup and add the steaming water. You stir the matcha in the cup with a whisk. “You've probably had tons of matcha drinks in cafes before, huh?”

You turn to grab a frothing pitcher from the counter, but the bluenette has already snatched it and started foaming the milk, her fingers gripping the handle.

“Yeah, I have. But I've never tried making it myself.”

“Never tried making one yourself?” you repeat, watching her steam the milk.

She shakes her head. “Nope. I've had a lot of matcha drinks in cafes, but I've never made one myself.”

You finish stirring the matcha in the cup. “Well, at least you haven't broken anything yet. That's a good start.”

She stops frothing the milk, glancing at you. “You mean that? you're not joking?”

“I'm just being honest.”

She hesitantly nods, taking your answer. “If you say so…” 

She pours the frothed milk into the cup along with the matcha, and you add the finishing touches before giving it to her. 

Jinx grabs the cup and looks down at the drink. “It looks good.”

“Well, take a sip.” You watch her expectantly. You expect her to spit it out, complain...

But she doesn’t. She swallows the liquid and sets the cup down. “I didn't know making matcha was so easy,” she muses, staring down at the frothy green drink.

“It's not so complicated. Just some boiled water and milk.”

She takes another sip. “So... I could make matcha myself?”

“Yup. If you know how, it's pretty simple.”

“I never knew it was this easy.... I've been buying matcha this whole time-”

Then, the bell chimes, interrupting your conversation. The first customer of the day walks in.

“Ahh…” you mutter, turning toward your new co-worker, who is still sipping on her matcha latte. “You ready?”

She sets the cup down. “I guess.”

“Just follow my lead and try to keep up,” you tell her, “it should be an easy morning.”

She smiles, adjusting her apron. “Easy as pie.”

—

The first day of work for Jinx was... well, interesting, to put it mildly.

She made a few mistakes—like over-foaming a latte, accidentally giving a customer way too much sugar in their coffee, and almost setting fire to the coffee machine… but it could have been worse.

Some of the customers were patient, kind, and understanding. Others... not so much.

One customer complained that their coffee had too much cream and was way too sweet. Another complained their frappe was melting despite ordering it without ice. Then there was the customer who ordered a ‘coffee flavored coffee’, whatever that means.  And the guy who wanted an Americano with no coffee.

By the end of the day, Jinx looked like a mess, and her apron was covered in coffee stains. You and her both shared a look of exhaustion.

“I had no idea customers could be so…” she trails off, her head in her hands on the counter.

“Frustrating?”

“More like…” she ponders some more.

“Inconsiderate?” you suggest jokingly.

“No, that's too nice.”

“How about…” you pause, mulling over some choice words. “Just plain dumb?”

“Dumb, stupid, idiotic, moronic, blockheaded, imbecilic-” she continues, listing off synonyms.

“You're going to run out of adjectives.”

“I've got plenty.” She lifts her head up, drumming her fingers on the counter. “You have no idea how many words you can use to describe an idiot. I could go on for hours.”

“I'm sure you could, but-”

“Like numbskull! Dolt. Imbecile. Nitwit. Dimwit. Dunce. Jackass. Cretin-”

“-Alright, that's enough,” you cut her off before she can start listing the entire dictionary. “I get it.”

She laughs and pushes back her bangs. “I was sooo tempted to dump a whole pot of coffee in a customer's face.”

“You shouldn't be pouring coffee on people, no matter how annoying they are.”

“But just imagine the look on their face when a steaming cup of hot coffee hits them-”

“That's assault.”

“It's self defense if… I'm defending my sanity,” Jinx counters.

“You can't just dump coffee on every annoying customer.”

“Says who?”

“Says the law,” you remind her, “...and Jayce.”

She sighs, flopping onto the counter. “I can't believe people can be this annoying. Like, how hard is it to just be nice to the people who serve you coffee?”

“Eh, well, it's too hard for some people. It's like they wake up in the morning and think… ‘Hmm, I'm going to be a massive jerk to someone working their minimum wage job today.’ And smetimes you just get those customers that you wish…” You gesture with your arm as if to mimic strangling them.

Jinx sits up, mimicking the motion with her own arms. “Or- or… you can poison their drink! Like, just a little bit. Just enough to make them a bit... sick and queasy. Or make it taste gross so they never come back, and they tell all their friends not to come back, and the cafe suddenly gets no business, and we get laid off-” She suddenly stops herself, realizing what she's saying. “I'm not making sense, am I?”

You snort. “Can you imagine the cafe being empty?”

“Mhmm! we could play our own music. Reorganize things. Drink as much coffee as we want,” she says, dropping her arms back to the counter. 

“No stupid customers. No stupid complaints. It sounds like a dream.”

She leans forward, propping her chin on her hand. “It does, doesn't it?”

Just as both of you start fantasizing about the dream of an empty café, the sound of the bell above the door rings, signaling the entrance of a new customer.

You look up, assuming it's just another customer ready to order their coffee and then complain about it. But the sight of Jayce walking through the door immediately caught your attention.

“Oh, hey, boss,” Jinx greets.

Jayce approaches the counter, his eyes scanning over the cafe. “Evening, how's the first day?” he asks Jinx.

“Just great,” she replies.

Jayce glances at the coffee stain on her apron, the corner of his lip twitching upwards, but he doesn't comment on it. “And how's the training been?” He turns towards you, raising an eyebrow.

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “She's done well-”

“Except for spilling the drinks, the coffee machine almost exploded, accidentally giving customers the wrong orders-” Jinx pipes up, counting on her fingers, “-and me almost assaulting a customer.”

“She's still learning,” you quickly add, “but she's catching on pretty quick.”

Jayce purses his lips, studying Jinx for a moment before returning his eyes to you. “She almost assaulted a customer?”

“Uh, no, it didn't happen. She was just... venting out some frustration.”

“It was close,” Jinx mutters.

You clear your throat and give her a subtle glare, silently telling her to shut up before she makes it worse, which she luckily gets the hint.

Jayce hums and glances down at the watch on his wrist before looking back up. “Right, you two can head home now. I'll take over closing the shop.”

You and Jinx exchanged confused looks. “You sure? we can help.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “No, no, it's fine. You've both had a long day. Go on, get going.”

You raise an eyebrow, a little suspicious, but you decide not to question it for now. You turn to Jinx. “Come on, let's get our stuff.”

She immediately stands up from her seat. “Holy shit, I'm dying to get out of this apron.”

—

You wave goodbye to Jayce as you both leave the cafe, heading straight for your parked bike, and climb onto it.

You notice that Jinx is walking a few feet away from you. “You need a ride or something?” you call out.

She turns around, looking at you with a smirk. “Why, are you offering?”

“Unless you want to walk-”

“I'll take that ride.” She walks over, stopping right next to where you're seated on the bike.

“Hop on, then.”

She glances at the back seat, hesitant. You notice that she doesn't have any sort of vehicle either. She bites her lip, contemplating it for a moment, before carefully climbing on the bike.

You feel the bike sag a bit underneath her weight, but it thankfully holds. 

She awkwardly sits behind you, her arms wrapping around your waist and her legs tucked beside your thighs. “You know how to ride this thing fast, right?” she asks.

“Of course, I do. I just like being careful.” You kick off the ground and begin to pedal, leaving the café behind.

“Boooring. Just gun it. I wanna feel the wind in my hair.”

“If I crash this thing, it's your fault,” you joke, picking up speed on the deserted sidewalk. “Where are you headed anyway?”

Her grip tightens around your waist, the wind blowing through her hair. “The subway.”

“The subway?” you ask, turning the bike towards the direction of the nearest subway station. “You live across the city?”

“Yeah, I live in a shitty area. Easier to use public transit.”

The entire city is shitty. “Why'd you get a job at a cafe so far from where you live, then?” You're genuinely curious.

“Not many other places are willing to hire me.”

“Why?”

She scoffs. “Too crazy. I had a job last summer at a local convenience store.”

“What, did you steal from the cash register or something?”

“Me? Hell no. You think I'd do something that obvious?”

You glance backward with a raised eyebrow.

“Alright, fine. I might have tried to steal some drinks and candy a couple of times. But! my boss was a scumbag who stole money from charity donations. He deserved it,” she explains defensively.

“I'm sure he did,” you reply, trying not to laugh at her defense. After all, she didn't need to justify stealing from a scumbag. Not that a few stolen chocolates really matter in this shithole of a city.

You continue down the sidewalk, making a left turn at a stoplight. Cars honk at you, but neither of you gives them so much as a glance of acknowledgment.

“Besides, those things are way too overpriced anyway,” she continues. “Everything in that damn store was overpriced.”

The subway station is now in view just a few blocks away.

“What happened?” you ask. “You get fired or quit?”

“Both. They fired me, and then I quit.”

“How exactly do you quit after getting fired?”

She laughs a little. “I walked back the next day and quit myself.”

That makes sense... somehow. “But, back to my question, why work so far?”

“Er, I didn't have a choice. Jayce was about the only one that would hire me.”

So it was out of desperation. You could understand that. Everyone had to do what they had to do to survive in this city.

You slow your bike to a stop, parking it outside the entrance to the subway station. You put the kickstand down and hop off the bike. “How long does it take to get to your place?”

“Like... maybe forty-five minutes? sometimes two hours,” she says, getting off the bike and stretching her arms above her head. “It's not that bad. There's usually an old guy who plays really shitty polka music on the accordion to keep me entertained.”

“Sounds lovely,” you reply sarcastically. “Shitty music and a shitty city.”

She hums, looking around. “So... I'll see you tomorrow?”

Despite the shitty city, the shitty job, you find yourself slightly looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. “Yeah, tomorrow,” you reply.

She turns and begins walking towards the stairs that descend into the depths of the subway station, before stopping and turning back around to face you.

“Hey-” she begins, stopping you. “Thanks for the ride, and... you're not so bad. For a coworker.”

You can't resist a smile. “You aren't so bad either.”

Jinx scoffs. “Pft, I don't know. Some people might disagree.” She pauses, studying your face for a moment. “See you, partner.”

She gives you one last grin before bounding down the stairs. You watch her disappear into the depths of the subway station.

You stare at the empty place where she once was, then turn away and get back on your bike, beginning to pedal away.

—

You enter the café, eyes still heavy from lack of sleep as you drag yourself through the door, only to be nearly deafened by the sound of loud music blasting from the speakers.

…this isn't the usual song that Jayce plays on the speakers. It's not soft rock, nor is it jazz, or any of those ‘old people’ types of music that he usually has on.

It sounds like... is that heavy metal?  Not just any kind of heavy metal, but the really fast-paced, hyper, head-banging kind.

You step inside and spot Jinx, who is currently in the middle of aggressively sweeping the floor.

Within three seconds of seeing you, the bluenette immediately abandons her task of sweeping, bounds over to the counter, grabs a cup, and holds it out to you.

“Mornin' partner!” she greets, a smirk on her face.

Confused, but too tired to question her, you cautiously take the cup from her. “Uhh... morning.” You nod, looking down at the cup. “Thanks.” You take a small, tentative sip.

Matcha. You almost want to spit it out. But you swallow it anyway. After all, it'd be rude to spit out something someone went out of the way to make for you.

The liquid hits your tongue, and it's… different?

Different from how you make it. It's sweet, too sweet. But oddly, despite its different taste... it's actually kind of good. Good enough to make your morning slightly more bearable.

You set the cup down on the counter, trying to hide how oddly satisfied you feel.

“So?” Jinx asks eagerly, “What do you think?”

“It's... “ Good. The word almost slips out, but you stop yourself, instead clearing your throat and going for a more neutral answer. “Different.”

“Different good or different bad?” she prompts.

“Different... fine,” you say, lifting the cup back to your lips and taking another sip.

That isn't necessarily a lie, right? just because something is different doesn't mean it's good or bad. It's like a math equation, neutral on both sides.

“What's with all the-” you gesture around, “loud music?” you ask, changing the topic.

“Oh, that?” She jabs a thumb behind her towards the speaker. “I was bored out of my mind before you got here, so I changed the music.”

The loud blast of drums and guitar fills the café.

“You like it?” she asks.

It's not... bad. Just different. “I don't know if like it is the right term.”

“Mhmm, but it's good for the morning. Helps wake you up, you know?”

You look back at the cup. The taste is still weird, but the flavor is oddly growing on you. “Yeah, I guess so.”

—

For the next few weeks, every day was the same. Every shift, you stumbled into the café, half-asleep and barely alive, and Jinx would greet you with a cup of matcha latte. She doesn't bother asking if you want one, simply places down your drink and starts her own work in the café.

It's still a drink that normally makes you grimace, but... the way she makes it... she makes it different.

It doesn't make your facial muscles twitch anymore. It just tastes better. It's odd, the way that the drink has changed you. The once bitter, almost disgusting taste that you used to dread is now...

Less bitter and somehow not so awful.

You're actually able to drink it without cringing. And you don't know if that should worry you or not.

Though, there's still one burning question on your mind.

“Why do you keep making this?” you ask her one day.

“Hmm?” She glances up from the coffee machine.

“This.” You gesture to the cup in hand. “You always make me matcha lattes.”

She sets her rag down on the counter and leans against it, resting her chin on her hand. “And why are you asking?”

“I don't know, it's just-” you pause. Why are you asking? It's just a cup of matcha. Who cares? “Just wondering,” you answer, shrugging.

“Is my matcha that bad?”

“It's not that,” you assure her, shaking your head.

“Then what?” she pries. Why do you care?

You shift a bit on your feet, uncomfortable at her question.

Because, it makes you enjoy something that you originally hated. But you don't say that.

“Never mind,” you mutter, shaking your head again and taking a sip.

She just hums and goes back to her task.

From that point on, you never ask the question again. And she continues making the matcha lattes every shift.

—

You stand on the subway train, gripping the pole to maintain balance. 

The train is too crowded to find a seat, so you're forced to just stand. It's a little uncomfortable, but not the worst thing you've experienced.  You're used to these long commutes. Normally, you would be riding your bike all the way to your campus, but your bike decided to betray you this day, and your tire popped.

You still haven't gotten it fixed. You didn't exactly have the money to fix it yet. Which meant you had to rely on public transport, and getting up earlier. You usually listen to music or daydream to pass the time. But today, no music, and your brain is too tired to think.

So you just stand there, staring vaguely at the people crowding around you. They're all strangers. Most of them are wearing business suits, heading to work. Some of them are students, like you, bags slung over their shoulders, looking equally tired.

A particularly loud sound of rattling metal rings in your ears, and you grimace. The subway system is old, outdated, and in need of repair. But it's still better than the old monorail they used a few years back.

You're snapped out of your thoughts as the train jolts to a stop. The doors open with an ear-piercing screech. A group of people file off as a few others get on. You barely pay attention.

You focus on the ground, listening to the rhythmic tcha tcha of the wheels on the track.

Just as your thoughts begin to lull, you're suddenly shaken from your tired trance by the feeling of another hand gripping the pole you're holding.

You lift your gaze and... Jinx?

She stands right across from you, one hand gripping the pole and the other clutching a backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Oh, hey,” she greets, shifting her grip on the pole as the train begins moving again. “What are you doing here?”

“My bike broke,” you mutter. “Flat tire.”

“Ah, that suuuuuucks,” she sympathizes, wincing. “You gonna get it fixed?”

“When I have the time,” you reply, shifting your own grip on the pole. “Or the money,” you add, grimacing as a particularly loud grinding sound rings in your ears.

You keep a decent distance between your body and Jinx, and your hands don't touch. But she stands close enough that you can see the details of her face.

She is surprisingly freckled. They're not visible unless you look closely, but she has a small smattering of brown spots on the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks. Also, she's wearing makeup. The eyeliner and dark eyeshadow are expected, but she's also wearing something purple-glistened on her lips. It almost looks like-

Her tongue darts out, licking the lip gloss off.

You look at her eyes, and she's looking directly at you. You notice her eyes flitting between your own. You're not sure if she's doing it on purpose or if the staring is some strange coincidence.

“Cars are so damn expensive,” she says, shifting her gaze at the floor. “I wish I had enough money to buy a motorcycle.”

“You drive?” 

“I mean, no,” she replies, her gaze lifting again. “But if I had a motorcycle, I could finally ditch public transport.”

“You don't like the subway?”

She gives you a look, gesturing around to the crowded subway train. “Does anyone like it?”

You concede. Good point.

She studies you for a moment, eyes drifting over your bag. “Where are you headed?”

“University. You?”

“Same.”

The train jostles, and you both shift the grip on the pole again. Your hands brush against each other, her hand just above yours.

“Which university?” you ask.

“The Academy,” she answers. “Engineering.”

“That's... an expensive university.” 

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees, adjusting her grip again, her hand almost touching yours. “Full ride scholarship.”

“Damn, really? that's pretty impressive.”

Something in her mouth twitches in distaste, but she swallows it down, nodding her head with a smirk. “Thanks.”

Her gaze moves across your body, then settles on your hand on the pole. She stares at it for too long before looking away.

“Engineering, huh? you a genius or something?”

“Or something,” she says.

The train lurches again, and her fingers touch yours.

She doesn't move away. You don't move away either. Every slight motion causes her fingers to brush your knuckles or your fingertips.

The train continues moving and the silence stretches on. 

Jinx's eyes are everywhere. It's roaming around the train. But it's also flickering back to you. Then it's roaming again. Then it flicks to your hand.

Then, you catch her staring at your lips. “Nice lips,” she suddenly says.

“What?”

“What?” she repeats.

Who compliments someone on their lips? “You just suddenly said I have a nice lips,” you respond.

She looks away, face turning pink. “Uh, I dunno. I think you have a nice lips.”

Another jolt of the train. Her head whips back to look you in the eye. She still does not move her hand.

“You have nice eyes.” You're not sure what possesses you to say that. It just popped out of your brain and into your mouth.

She narrows her eyes at you and snorts. “You think so?” Her thumb brushes against the back of your hand.

“Yeah,” you say, ignoring the shiver that runs down your back at the touch. “Pretty.”

Pretty? Is that the only word you can think of? The word feels insufficient to describe her eyes. Beautiful, gorgeous, striking. Instead, you just say pretty. Idiot.

Her nose is scrunched up, but it does little to hide the redness of her cheeks.

You keep staring at her eyes. And she stares back. Her eyes flick down again to your lips. She wets her own lips. Her thumb rubs the back of your hand, moving in circles.

The train slows and comes to a stop.

“My stop,” you mutter, dropping your hand and straightening up. “I'll see you later at the cafe?”

“Uuhhh, later,” Jinx responds. “And…”

You raise your eyebrow, waiting for her to finish the sentence. But she doesn't. She just looks at you, face turning pink again. “And...?” you press.

She looks away from you. “Nothing. See you later, partner.”

“Later,” you repeat, then push your way out of the crowded train, feeling her stare follow you.

The sound of the train doors shutting makes you look back.

Jinx is still standing in the same place, watching you leave. Her hand is still on the pole, and she's smiling, her cheeks are still pink. But when she sees you looking, that smile fades, and she quickly averts her gaze.

Then the train pulls away, and she disappears from your view. You're left staring at an empty railway, feeling strangely warm.

The ride to your university passes without much thought. For some reason, your brain is too exhausted to focus on anything but the feeling of Jinx's hand on yours.

And even after you arrive at class, you're still preoccupied with thoughts of Jinx.

No, not preoccupied. More like... preoccupied-adjacent. There is nothing to be preoccupied with.

You just got off the subway with your coworker. Just a normal subway ride. There are hundreds of people every day in the subway. People brush against each other all the time.

Nothing strange about that.

But you can't stop thinking about the weight of her hand on yours. Or the brush of her touch. Or the pinkness of her cheeks. Or the freckles on her nose. Or the lip gloss on her mouth. Or her eyes.

...

Okay, fine, you're preoccupied. 

—

The cafe is blissfully empty. You take a quick glance around. Only a few customers are sitting at their tables, quietly working on an assignment or studying for their own midterms.

As usual, a cup of matcha latte is pushed into your hands. It's the same old drink, but this time, it's over ice instead of steaming hot.

“New recipe?” you ask, looking at Jinx, who is brewing coffee.

“Trying something new,” she calls back, focusing on the coffee machine in front of her. “You like it?”

You stare at the ice floating around the top of the drink, then take another sip. “It's fine.”

It's more than fine. It's good. The ice makes it a hell of a lot more refreshing.

Jinx glances at you over her shoulder. “Just fine, huh?” she responds, raising her eyebrow at you.

“Yes,” you answer. “Fine.” Delicious

She goes back to messing with the coffee machine, leaving you to stare at the back of her head.

You continue sipping on the latte, savoring the cool drink. It's an improvement over the usual steaming hot drink. The ice makes the flavors blend differently than it usually does, and it's much more tolerable than the hot version.

Delicious. The word echoes in your brain again, but you ignore it, staring into your cup.

Then your eyes wander towards Jinx's position behind the counter.

Her hair tied up in two braids as she fiddles with the coffee machine. Sometimes, her hair will escape the confinement of the hair ties, and it will dangle about her face. She pauses to pull back a strand of loose hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her attention doesn't deviate from her task, not noticing your gaze following her movements.

Your gaze drifts back to your cup. It's getting low. A few ice cubes remain, still bobbing in the liquid.

You take another sip of the latte.

Just fine. Not delicious.

Maybe it's a bit delicious. A little delicious. Delicious is such a funny word. An odd word. Is it possible to be half-delicious?

You lick your lips, tasting the remains of the ice-cold matcha latte, and glance back at Jinx.

Damn it. Delicious.

—

A month has passed, and you can tell Jinx has improved. Maybe even... good?

Good enough that she's stopped yelling, stopped breaking, stopped accidentally pouring coffee on the customer's shirt. Good enough that the customer is now enjoying their coffee instead of screaming at her. Even Jayce seems pleased, no longer concerned that Jinx would set the coffee machine on fire.

You set a cup down and look over at Jinx, who is standing by the coffee machine. She's working on latte art and actually managing to do a good job.

You watch as she pulls the milk wand away from the foam, leaving behind a decent… is that a heart?

It's just a simple heart, nothing extravagant, but definitely better than all the blobs she'd been trying to pass as latte art weeks ago.

“Not bad,” you comment.

Jinx jumps, nearly causing the matcha to spill over the rim. “Holy fuck,” she hisses. “Warn me next time you sneak up on me like that.”

“I didn't sneak up on you,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “I was standing next to you the entire time.”

“And you still managed to startle me.”

“I did it on purpose,” you answer, smirking. “Just to see you jump.”

She flips you off and turns her attention back to the drink in front of her. “Ass.”

You grab a rag and clean the countertop. “A heart, huh? Trying to impress someone?”

She shrugs. “Maybe I am.”

You lean against the counter, watching her work on the drink. “Who's this lucky person?”

She hums without taking her eyes off the drink. “None of your business.”

“So there is someone?”

She glances at you out of the corner of her eye, and then she shrugs. “Maybe.”

There is absolutely someone. “Is it someone I know?” you press on, curious.

“Yes.”

You're not sure how to feel about that. On one hand... well, you're curious about who the hell this person is. On the other hand... you feel... jealous?

No, not jealous. More like... annoyed. Yeah… Annoyed.

Your hands grip the rag tighter. “Is it someone I know well?” 

She pauses, her gaze flickering to you for a moment, before looking back at the drink. “Yes.”

Annoyance continues to simmer inside… strange. 

Why does this annoying feeling keep poking and buzzing at your brain? maybe because you had someone in mind? someone who you wish she was talking about? or maybe it was just curiosity getting the better of you.

You try to shrug off the annoyance, continuing to clean the countertop.

“What do you think?” she asks, staring at the matcha latte art.

“I already told you it doesn't look bad,” you reply, still scrubbing at the counter. “You're getting better.”

“I'm always getting better,” she says, “You can taste it if you want.” She turns the drink towards you, holding it out.

You reach over and take the cup from her, your hands brushing against hers. She looks down to look at your fingers for a moment before returning to your face.

You bring the cup up to your lips and take a sip. The moment the liquid touches your tongue, it's as if all the annoyance evaporates. The drink she makes is always delicious. You manage to swallow before the noise threatens to escape from your throat. “Thanks,” you say, lowering the cup.

She just hums, staring at your lips. “You've got…” she begins, pausing to reach out.

She uses her thumb to gently brush away the remaining foam on your upper lip. Her touch is warm and soft, and you instinctively lean into the touch. Her lips are parted a bit, and you can see her teeth slightly biting into the bottom lip. 

“Foam,” she finishes, pulling back her hand. “All gone.” She wipes her finger on her apron.

You can't explain the heat that crawls up your neck. “Thanks.”

She smiles a little, a strangely satisfied gleam in her eyes. “...no problem.”

She continues to stare at you, studying your face. You're not sure why you're so stuck on just staring at each other without talking, but it's like neither of you has anything to say.

It's almost awkward. But not exactly. Awkward would require you to be uncomfortable.

You're not uncomfortable with her eyes on you. It's kind of… comfortable. Like some kind of strange comfort. The kind you get after spending too much time around someone. And you've been around Jinx a lot these past few weeks.

Jinx is the first to break the eye contact by looking away. She clears her throat, staring at the coffee machine next to her. “I'm gonna... make some more coffee…” she mumbles.

And then she just turns and walks away.

You're left standing there, clutching the cup of matcha latte in your hands and staring at the back of Jinx's head as she begins brewing more coffee in the machine.

You're struck with the oddest of desires. You want to go over there, stand next to her, and stare at her face. You want...

You quickly stop yourself.

Why in the hell are you thinking like this? It's a ridiculous thought, that's what it is. You just need some sleep. All this damn thinking isn't going to help anything.

For the rest of your shift, you do your best to avoid looking at Jinx. Unfortunately, you keep finding yourself looking at her anyway.

—

“Are you gonna help me out, or you're gonna stare at your phone the whole time?” Jinx calls out, breaking your concentration.

You look up from the screen of your phone, then realize you've been scrolling aimlessly for the past ten minutes.

“Ohhh… yeahhhh right.” You set the phone on the counter next to hers. “Sorry,” you apologize, beginning to help her with the remaining closing tasks.

The café closing hours are always calm and relaxing. Usually, Jayce is there helping, chatting to you and Jinx. But tonight, Jayce is out doing something important, leaving just you and Jinx to close the café.

This isn't the first time. The two of you have closed the cafe together on several occasions.

You grab a towel and begin wiping down the tables and chairs, making sure to leave the café spotless for tomorrow. Jinx sweeps around the floor, humming something as she works.

When you're both finished cleaning, you and Jinx move to the last step of closing.

You start by putting up the chairs on the tables, stacking them neatly around so they don't collect any dust overnight. Jinx helps as well, putting up her share of chairs, then begins straightening up the chairs as you finish with yours.

Soon, all the chairs are organized on top of the tables, and the café is as tidy as a mouse's ass.

You walk over behind the counter and grab the boxes full of new cups from a low shelf. “Can you help me with this?” you ask, lifting the box and nodding at the other one.

She comes over and helps you, carrying it into the storage room. You trail after her, watching her as she places the box gently on top of the other boxes.

The storage room is a small room connected to the cafe, used to store supplies. The walls, made of concrete, are painted yellow. Inside, the room is tidy, neat, and somewhat small. The floor and walls are covered with several industrial metal racks, stacked with boxes of supplies. A single light bulb hangs from the center of the ceiling, illuminating the room.

You pause and set your box down as well, glancing at her as she dusts off her hands. “I swear, Jayce is way too paranoid about restocking,” she says, glancing around.

You nod. “He's definitely got a bit of a hoarding problem.”

“He'll probably start to fill up the back next.”

“And then he's gonna fill the manager's office.”

“And the bathroom.” She snickers, looking over the boxes. “I swear to god, he needs a damn therapist for this obsession.”

You share a laugh and turn towards the door, Jinx following behind you.

“Well, guess everything is in order-” you start to say, but pause when you turn the doorknob and find that it's locked. You frown and try pulling the knob again, harder this time. It still doesn't budge.

“What the hell?” Jinx comes up beside you and grabs the knob, rattling it a few times. She stops after a few seconds and tries again, but still no luck. “Fuck!” she exclaims, tugging the knob. “Why won't this stupid thing open?!”

“It's damn well jammed.” You kick the door, which does absolutely nothing.

“That's... not good,” Jinx mutters. “I guess this is one of the cons of having a paranoid boss.”

There are no windows into this room, and Jayce won't be back until tomorrow. The only way out is through the door, and it's clearly not budging.

“Looks like we're trapped,” you deadpan.

She swears again, staring at the door. “Of-fucking-course.”

“Guess we're stuck here until tomorrow.”

She grunts. “Great, just great. What are we going to do—wait, do you have your phone?”

“I do, but…” You search your pockets, realization dawning. “I think I left it on the counter.”

She pats her pockets too, and her face falls. “Ugh, same.”

There's a beat of silence as you both process this new information… you're screwed.

Jinx slides down the wall until she's sitting on the cold concrete. Her eyes glance at the other boxes, then back to you. “Are you just going to stand there?”

You sigh and slowly lower yourself next to her. “Guess not.”

“This sucks,” she grumbles, pulling her knees up to her chest.

You look at the storage room around you. There's not much in the storage room. It's all supplies—cups, espresso beans, various syrups, milk-

Oh, milk.

“At least we have food,” you say, pointing at the several cartons of milk stacked on one shelf.

Jinx glances at the milk and scoffs. “Yeah, if we plan on having heart disease. We'll be dead before anyone remembers we're locked in here.”

“Can't you just be a tad... optimistic?” you mutter. “Like you usually are?”

“I'm only optimistic when I'm caffeinated. Now I'm tired and miserable.”

The two of you go back to sitting in silence.

You take a quick glance around the storage room again, noting how bare it is. It's cold in here. No carpet or insulation. Just two people, three days' worth of food, and an uncomfortable concrete floor.

Jinx looks up at the ceiling, probably wondering if this is how her life ends.

“Stop sulking,” you say.

“I'm not sulking.”

“Yes, you are. You can stop being gloom and doom now, it's not that bad.”

“Oh yeah? it's not that bad? we're literally stuck in an empty storage room with nothing to do. Not to mention this floor is cold and uncomfortable-”

“Then sit closer. It'll be warmer,” you interrupt her rant. The moment the words escape your mouth, you realize how it could be interpreted.

You clear your throat awkwardly. No, it's not that bad. It's not... intimate or anything. You're not, y'know, trying to be close. It's just practical. Yes. Practical.

Her gaze flicks to the ground between you, and she shuffles closer, sighing. You watch silently as she scoots over, closer and closer, until your shoulders are touching.

Neither of you speaks for a few moments, both of you focusing on the door in front of you.

“Do you think ghosts are real?” she asks suddenly.

You turn your head to look at her. “Yeah, I think there's someone watching us in that corner.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, really.” You gesture to the darkest corner. “I think I just saw something move.”

She turns her head, staring at the far corner of the storage room. “Really?”

“Yep.”

Both of you stare at the corner for a few seconds. Nothing happens. The corner is completely still. Not a single speck of dust is moving.

She huffs and turns to glare at you. “I hate you.”

You huff in return. “The hell did I do?”

“You're trying to scare me.”

“Maybe I am.”

“If a goddamn ghost really is watching us-”

You cut her off. “What exactly are you worried about?”

“I- I don't know,” she stammers indignantly, “I just—ugh, whatever.”

“I mean, it's not like they'll do anything.”

She gives you a dubious look. “I bet they're already judging me.”

You grin at the thought. “Oh, definitely. I can feel them judging you right now.” You gesture at the dark corner again. “See that? that's Jessica.”

“Jessica?” she repeats.

“Yes, Jessica,” you say with a grin. “She died here and has been here a long time, waiting for the next victim.”

She eyes the corner again, narrowing her eyes. “I can't see anything. Not sure if the ghost is real.”

“She's real, alright. Watch this.” You point at the corner. “Jessica, give her a jumpscare.”

She looks back and forth at the corner, then back at you. “What-” She's cut off when you suddenly poke her side. “AHK-” she yells, jerking away from you. “You-!”

You grin at her. “See? Told you Jessica's real.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” she accuses, shoving you in the chest. “I hate you, you are the worst, motherfucker-”

“Jessica said you should watch your language.”

She swivels her gaze back to the corner. “Jessica can go suck my dic-”

“Jessica said you shouldn't talk to the dead that way.”

She gives you another indignant glare. “Jessica can eat my ass.”

“Ohhhhh, Jessica didn't like that.”

She looks at the corner again, trying to look intimidating. “Jessica, I don't like you.”

“Jessica said she's heartbroken.”

Jinx tries to kick your leg, but you dodge playfully. “Jessica's a damn liar.”

“Maybe Jessica should haunt you for the rest of your life,” you say, still grinning.

She scoffs, turning to look at you. “I bet it's worse to get haunted by a ghost than see a dead body,” she mutters, coughing.

Her words catch you off guard, and you look away, suddenly feeling guilty about joking with her. “Yeah.” You try to think of anything else to say. “Um. Sorry.”

She shrugs. “It's fine. It's just a stupid joke.”

Silence falls between you again, and you stare at the ground, not knowing what to say.

“What if…” you start after an awkward silence, “What if you're being haunted by someone you like forever… I mean, would it be better to get haunted by someone you like instead of… you know, someone you hate.”

She hesitates, looking at nothing in particular. “Uh... probably... yeah.”

“Yeah?” you repeat. “And who would you want to be haunted by?”

“No one,” she quickly replies. “I mean, it's not like I want to get haunted, I just think it would be better if I did.”

There's a beat of silence as the two of you sit, listening to the nothingness of the storage room.

“What if I haunted you?” she asks.

“You?”

Her eyes whip over to you. “Yeah, me.”

“You want to haunt me?”

“Why not?” she responds. “If I had to haunt someone, why wouldn't I pick you?”

You blink. “Why would you pick me?”

“Is a good reason really needed?” she asks, looking away from you. “Maybe I just want to be around you.” She says it nonchalantly, as if she's stating a fact.

A fact that makes no sense to you. Why would she want to stay with you? “That makes literally no sense.”

She shrugs, her knees bumping against yours. “Does it need to make sense?”

“Yes.”

“Why does it need to make sense?”

“Because-” you stumble over your words. “Because you don't get to just say things and expect me to understand-”

“Bullshit.” A retort is on the tip of your tongue, but she cuts you off again before you can respond. “Just answer this.”

“Answer what?”

She stares at you intently, eyes narrowed. “If I said I wanted to stay with you all the time, would that make sense to you?”

“Well, yeah. That makes sense. You already hang around me-”

“No, not just when we work. I mean-” she stops, staring at the floor in an attempt to avoid your gaze. “I want to… be with you.”

“You're already with me,” you say. “We're literally stuck in a storage room together.”

Jinx sighs exasperatedly. “No, I mean, I want to always be with you.” There's a pause. “And… if that means haunting you, then I'd want to haunt you.”

Your brain stops. What? She wants to be with you all the time? As in... always?

...

The floor is suddenly very interesting. You stare at the concrete, trying to process the words that just escaped her mouth.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Your voice is too fast. “Why would you want-”

“Because I enjoy your company,” she interrupts you quickly, “and you probably wouldn't mind if I was around.” She stares at her fingernails, avoiding your eyes. “I'm just saying,” she continues, “It'd be pretty nice. Spending eternity with you.”

Something in your chest tightens at those words.

Spend eternity with you.

It dawns on you that you're feeling something that you haven't experienced before. Or maybe you've felt it before, on rare occasions. The feeling of your heart beating too fast, for no reason.

Your eyes dart to your hand, lying on your right leg. Her knee brushes against yours again. You look away from your legs and stare at her face.

She's still staring down at her fingers.

In the dim light of the storage room, her face is almost glowing… she looks beautiful. How can someone look so perfect, even when talking about such disturbing things?

Huh. It's strange. Someone who looks so beautiful, talking about something so disturbing.

She tucks a strand of blue hair behind her ear, eyes not lifting from her fingers.

You feel the urge to touch her.

Not in a weird way. But to feel the smoothness of her skin on your hand. To feel her hair run through your fingers. To… you don't know. Just feel her.

“Why-” you start, your voice too loud. You stop talking. Why are you trying to say something?

She glances up and stares back at you. “Hmm?”

“Why me? I mean... there are a lot of people in this shitty city or shitty world, so why would you like to stay with me?”

She looks at you and pauses for a moment. Her knee brushes against yours again, and she scoots closer, resting her head on your shoulder. “I don't care about the world. I just want you.” Her words are quiet, spoken only to you.

Everything in the storage room seems to disappear. The boxes that surround you have disappeared. Everything melts away, except for the girl, resting her head on your shoulder, and the words that she speaks to you. Just the two of you, in a room of shadows.

“You wouldn't mind, do you?” Her words rip you out of your thoughts.

“Mind what?” you respond stupidly.

“Spending an eternity with me.” 

You lick your lips again, but your mouth is completely dry. Your throat is dry too. Your brain is going stupid.

You aren't sure why. It's just... the implication of her words. Of eternity with Jinx.

With the woman who made a shitty job… less shitty. With the woman who somehow made you look forward to the drink that you hated so much, all because she makes it differently. With the woman who taught you that there are some things, even disliked things, that can grow on you.

You realize you're smiling and quickly attempt to return a neutral expression.

You glance down at her head, right below your chin.

You imagine living with her constantly. Stuck with her. For eternity.

It would drive any sane person mad.

You aren't a sane person.

“I wouldn't mind... spending an eternity with you,” you hear yourself saying.

You can feel her smile even though you can't see it. She shifts on the floor, and suddenly her hand is sliding across the space between you. Her fingers are brushing against your arm, slowly creeping down as if to find yours.

“That's good,” she murmurs.

Her hand finally finds yours, she stops for a second, and then she slowly intertwines your fingers together.

You move your thumb across her knuckles, tracing the lines and veins. You'd thought about holding her hand once before. You'd never thought that it would make breathing so much more difficult.

Her thumb starts doing the same, tracing over your knuckles.

You glance at her hand, interlocked with yours. You stare at the bandages as Jinx continues to trace over your veins, the pads of her fingers soft and delicate as they brush against your skin.

Her hand is so gentle and yet also so rough at the same time. Rough, because you can feel the callouses, the slight scrapes across her knuckles. Gentle, because even with her rough skin, her hand still touches you so softly.

What would it be like, being with her forever? Always.

Would the moments like this become mundane? would it get old? holding her hand and sitting in a storage room, talking with her?

She pulls her head away from your shoulder and looks fully at you.

You notice how close she is. You could easily reach out and touch the strands of hair that fall over her forehead. Her eyes are dilated, looking at you with what can only be affection.

You realize how easy it would be to kiss her.

“I wouldn't mind it either,” she says.

Her eyelashes flutter, and her gaze darts to your lips. You feel a heat grow in your chest, and your own eyes drift to her lips, slightly parted.

You aren't sure who leans in, but one of you is shifting forward.

She swallows, and her tongue flicks out to wet her own lips. You find yourself unconsciously copying their movement, licking your bottom lip.

You think about how her lips would feel. Soft? Warm? What would it taste like-

And then she turns her head away from you and back into the corner, clearing her throat awkwardly. You clear your throat as well, trying to think of something else to focus on.

Anything but how close her lips were to yours.

She squeezes your hand briefly before letting go, and the loss of her touch leaves a cold feeling on your skin. “Uh-” her voice is slightly hoarse, “is Jessica still there?”

—

The next few days went by in a dull routine, one that you quickly fell back into. Wake up. Go to class. Study. Work. Classwork. Get some sleep.

It was just like the rest of any normal week, except one thing had changed.

Jinx.

Or rather, the lack of Jinx. 

She hadn't shown up to work. You didn't know why, but the fact that you arrived at work and she wasn't there to hand you a matcha latte was definitely... odd.

You had gotten used to the smell of her matcha assaulting you the minute you stepped into work, to the point where the smell of coffee beans seemed unusually bland.

And now there was just coffee.

Even the matcha latte you had made yourself didn't taste the same. You're not sure why you had decided to make yourself a matcha latte.

It's stupid to do. You hate matcha, you've always hated it.

Too bitter. And yet...

No amount of sugar can seem to make it sweet, like Jinx somehow does. Nothing seemed to taste the same without her. Matcha, bitter. Coffee, bland. Café, boring.

Everything had suddenly, and quite inexplicably, felt wrong… like…

The sugar in the cabinet was suddenly moved to a new place, and you couldn't remember where the hell it was now because it wasn't where it was before. Or an apocalypse, but instead of surviving a nuclear blast or zombies, you now had to survive the absence of someone you didn't quite know you had begun to depend on so much.

You look at the clock. Only four hours left of this shift. Only four hours.

—

“Oh, did you not hear? Jinx is sick,” Jayce says. “She called saying she was sick, probably not coming in for a week or so.”

“Sick?” you echo.

“Yeah, she didn't sound too good.” He shakes his head as he continues making coffee. 

“When did she call?” 

He pauses what he's doing. “Uh... about a couple days ago.”

She called in over a couple days ago, and you're only being told now. “Couple days…” you repeat, just to clarify. “Why are you just telling me now?”

“I thought you knew?”

“No, I didn't.”

Jayce looks mildly annoyed as he finishes up a customer's order. “She told me she talked to you about it.”

“She talked to me? When?”

“Are you telling me she didn't talk to you?”

“She didn't. Not one word.”

He finishes the order and hands the coffee to a customer. “That's weird. You guys are close, I thought she would've told you that she was sick.”

Close. That's the word that sticks in your head when he says it. Close enough where she would've told you something as big as not being able to come to work for a week. Right? but she didn't tell you anything.

“She didn't tell me anything,” you say.

He scratches his chin. “Maybe she forgot to tell you?”

“Maybe.” Maybe. 

Or maybe she was avoiding you. Maybe she just didn't want to talk to you. Maybe she suddenly had an epiphany about how you were close. Maybe she just didn't want to be close anymore. Maybe she got scared and regretted it.

But that makes no sense.

If she regretted it, why would she have held your hand so tightly? why would she have said that you were the person she wanted to spend an eternity with? why would she say it like it was something she had thought about for a while?

“Maybe you should go check up on her?” Jayce suggests, shaking his head like he can sense your train of thought going off the rails.

“Check up on her?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, she might appreciate some company. Someone to look after her while she's sick.”

“I'm not sure if-,” you begin, but you're cut off by Jayce.

“Come on, it'd be nice for her,” he urges. “She doesn't have anyone else around to check up on her.”

You remember her telling you that her last family was killed when she was a kid, and she lives alone. She also mentioned that her sister is in prison.

Yeah, maybe you should go check on her.

After all, why wouldn't you? it would be a perfectly reasonable thing to do. You cared enough about her to go see how she was doing.

You care about her, so it only makes sense to go check on her. “Yeah,” you say, “I'll go see her.”

“Alright. I can handle the rest of the shift if you want to go.”

—

The entire commute there is a test of your sanity.

It takes nearly two hours to finally reach her address, the commute filled with cramped subway trains and waiting in pouring rain for buses to show up. Your hair is wet and sticking to your face.

Carrying a bag of the matcha sweets she liked was easy enough, but the latte was a little more difficult. It kept sloshing in the cup and threatening to spill over the edge with every step you took. Still, you managed not to dump the drink all over yourself.

By the time you finally arrived at her apartment, all you wanted to do was collapse in a chair and take a nap for the rest of the year.

And it was only 4:35 in the afternoon.

You look at the piece of scrap paper that Jayce gave you with Jinx's address on it. Fifth floor, room 505.

With a weary groan, you take the stairs. The elevator is broken, and there's no way in hell you're taking that janky elevator. You feel like it might just get stuck halfway and drop you to your death.

When you reach her floor, you're pretty sure you're ready to die. You walk around the hall and look at the first few doors.

500... 501... 502… 503... 504...

You pass a group of teenagers who walk past you with their phones out, shouting at the top of their lungs and shoving each other around. A baby is crying in some apartment as you pass the door, and a dog is barking from behind another.

505.

You eye the door, taking a moment to catch your breath and try to straighten out your wet clothes. Here goes nothing.

You knock on the door. No answer at first. You knock again. Nothing.

You knock louder, hoping to get some kind of response. It's another solid minute of no answer, and you're getting increasingly annoyed. She's either asleep or-

The door suddenly opens.

“Yeah, who-” Jinx starts but then stops speaking entirely when she sees you. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

She's wearing a threadbare gray t-shirt that hangs off one of her shoulders and barely comes anywhere close to covering any of her thighs. She has a tissue shoved into her nose and dark circles around her eyes. Her hair is messy, unbrushed, and unkempt.

Is this really the same person who had been handing you daily lattes every day for two months?

“Well, that's a hell of a greeting,” you grumble, shifting your bag and the nearly spilled latte to your other hand.

She's looking at you like you've done something wrong. Actually, she's looking at you like she's trying to kill you with just a stare.

You hold up the bag. “Brought food.”

“You shouldn't be here,” she spits out before slamming the door shut.

…wow. That was a warm welcome.

All you wanted to do was give her food and check to see if she was ok. She was sick, alone, and she probably didn't have anything to eat. And she just slammed the door in your face?

Screw this. You turn around ready to leave but stop when you hear the door creak open.

“Hey.” You turn and look over your shoulder. The door is open, but only slightly. Jinx peeks her head out the door, glaring at you. “What kind of food?” she asks, pointing to the bag

Not the kind of apology you're hoping for, but you'll take it. “Matcha sweets and a latte that I made.”

“That actually sounds-” she cuts herself off and sniffles, “...alright.” She opens the door all the way and turns to go back into the apartment. “Come in or leave, but don't just stand there like an idiot.”

You scoff and step inside, cautiously shutting the door behind you.

The first thing you notice is the smell. It doesn't smell exactly like garbage, but it stinks of old clothes and day-old food. It's not quite disgusting, it's not quite nice, but it reeks. Like someone hasn't opened a window and aired out the apartment in a while.

The next thing you notice is how much everything there is. Clothes sprawled over the couch, cans of energy drinks strewn across the floor, boxes of takeout littering the kitchen counters.

“Make yourself at home,” she says sarcastically, kicking a pile of clothes out of the way so you can sit on the couch. She pulls a tissue out of her nose and tosses it onto the floor.

You tentatively take a seat on the couch, shifting the latte and bag to the coffee table. Your eyes dart around the room as Jinx continues to shove things off the couch and onto the floor.

The entire wall beside the couch is covered in papers... and notes... and equations. It looks like a bunch of chemical compounds and designs.

She doesn't seem to notice you staring at the wall as she collapses onto the other end of the couch.

There are a few diagrams of rockets and some drawings of the coffee shop. Drawings of her and her deceased family, her deceased friends, and a drawing of… 

Wait- 

Is that your face? 

A drawing of your face is taped to the wall, scribbled with notes around it. ‘Nice lips.’

“What the-” you start, tilting your head to get a better look.

Jinx looks at you, noticing where you're staring, then follows your line of sight. She immediately turns red. “Oh. Uh-” she stutters, sitting up. 

“Did you-” you try to ask.

“It's nothing,” she says quickly, jumping off the couch. She scrambles towards the wall, tearing off the drawing. “Just a—just a quick sketch, it means nothing.”

You're fairly sure it means something, but you don't get the chance to press her further as she rips the paper apart and throws it into the trash can, avoiding your gaze.

“Anyway-” she says, plopping back down on the couch, “-I bet the food's good, right?”

Food... right. That was the whole point of coming over in the first place. “Uh... yeah.”

You watch as she grabs the latte and takes a sip. “Ugh, this is too bitter.” She sets down the latte and pushes it away from her. “What'd you put in this? It tastes like dirt.”

“The same stuff I always put in it,” you respond, slightly annoyed at the insult to your latte making abilities.

She shrugs and picks up one of the matcha sweets instead, popping it in her mouth. “Might as well teach you how to make one when I'm back.”

You watch her chew the sweets, then pause, letting out a sniffle, then reach up to wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

She lets out a dry cough. “Why exactly are you here?” 

“Jayce told me you were sick,” you reply.

“I'm not—wait, Jayce told you that?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Why were you even listening to him?”

“Because I was worried about you.”

She looks at you for a moment, then turns to grab another tissue and shoves it into her nose. “I'm not sick... just busy.”

You pointedly look around. “Uh huh,” you grumble, “Doing what exactly?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff like-” you gesture to the entire mess. “-this?”

“It's my midterms, idiot.”

“So, no one's been cleaning up?” you ask, eyes darting around again in the apartment.

“I don't have time,” she complains, before letting out a deep cough and clutching her chest in pain. “I have more important things to do. Besides, do I look like I can clean when I can't even breathe through my damn nose right now?” Jinx sniffs, then reaches for another matcha sweet, her hair falling over her face.

You give her a sidelong glance. “You look like you're about to keel over.”

“Don't be dramatic.”

“I'm not,” you say, reaching out a hand to touch her forehead, checking for a fever.

She swats your hands away. “Don't touch me.”

You retract your hand. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. Why are you even here anyway? You don't have to worry about me.”

“I know I don't have to.”

“Then just go. I'm busy.”

You groan. “You're sick. You need, like, I don't know, someone to take care of you.”

“I'm fine-” she coughs again, “-I just need to-” Another dry cough, and she grabs another tissue. “I just need to-,” another cough, “-finish my midterm exam.”

“You need to rest.”

“I can't rest.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm behind.”

“What's the exam?”

She pauses, then reluctantly gestures to the mess on the wall. “I'm trying to design something, and it requires a lot of diagrams and calculations.”

So that's what all those equations and numbers and notes are. But that doesn't explain why her apartment is such a wreck.

“And that's why you haven't cleaned up?” you ask.

She glares at you, tossing the used tissue. “How would you react if you had a deadline, and you were on the verge of throwing up?”

“I know you're stressed, but-”

“You don't know anything!” Jinx snaps all of a sudden, standing up and looking you dead in the face.

“Seriously, what's your problem?” you retort.

“My problem is that you're here when you shouldn't be-”

“I'm here because I was worried about you. You-”

She interrupts you again. “Well, you shouldn't be. I don't want your help.”

“You don't want my help,” you repeat slowly.

“You heard me.”

You bite your tongue and take a deep, slow breath. “Then…” you manage to choke out, “...whose help do you want?”

“Nobody's,” she mutters. “I don't need anyone's help. I've done just fine for years. I can do it myself.”

But you shouldn't have to. 

She continues as she walks towards her bedroom. “I'm sick and tired and trying to finish something that's due in a few days, and I don't need you to come barging in, trying to-” She stops, clutching her chest and coughing again.

“You should be resting and taking it easy-” you coax, standing.

“I would be resting and taking it easy if you weren't here.”

You freeze, feeling yourself grow cold. 

You know she's just cranky, that she's sick and upset that she's stuck like this, that her deadline is near, and that you're just the person who happens to be around.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “didn't know you wanted me gone.”

She opens her mouth, hesitating for a second, before nodding her head firmly. “I'm sick, and I need to finish some work. So just do me this one favor and get out.”

Her words are harsh, more harsh than you think you can handle.

But even more than the fact they were words of rejection and anger, what hurt was the feeling that those words were coming from the same woman who had, just days earlier, curled against you, told you that you were the one she wanted to spend an eternity with.

“Fine,” you say quietly, “If that's what you want.”

She looks at you, and you swear for a second you think you see her expression soften, but then she nods her head again. “Yeah, that's what I want.”

You glance around at the mess of diagrams and paperwork plastered on the walls, the trash littered everywhere, and the couch that looked like it hadn't been slept on in days. 

“I'll see you at work,” you say lamely, turning away and walking towards the door.

She doesn't say a word to stop you. You open the door, and you want her to say something to stop, a please, a wait, or anything, but nothing comes.

With one last glance back at her, you leave.

—

“That was…” Jayce starts, pausing. “Did she even listen to you?”

“She was more dead set on booting me out of there.”

He lets out a breath. “She's stubborn.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “And stupid as hell.”

“But she's unwell,” he continues.

“Doesn't give her an excuse to say that I shouldn't be there.”

“True.” He looks over at you. “You look upset.”

You scoff. “Of course I'm upset. I show up to see how my friend is feeling, and her immediate response is to kick me out. Like she doesn't want me anywhere near her.”

Jayce frowns. “Don't take it too personally. She's not trying to hurt you on purpose. I'm sure that once she's feeling better, she'll apologize.”

—

She did not, in fact, apologize.

It's been over a week since you entered her apartment, Jinx isn't sick anymore and isn't busy with midterms, she's back to how she usually was. She talks, she laughs, she jokes but never looks in your direction, no word, no greetings… and not once does she ever slide a cup of matcha in your direction like she used to.

Whenever she works with you, she keeps things strictly professional. Her hands never accidentally brush against yours, and she never stands closer than necessary.

You've tried giving her space, hoping she'd approach you when she was ready to talk it out. But the space never got filled.

It's like, in a single day, you went from being... almost something to nothing.

—

Jayce calls out your name from the counter as you wipe down the tables.

“What?” you call back, watching as Jayce walks over to you. 

He nods towards Jinx, who is currently chatting with a customer. “When are you going to talk to her?”

“When are you going to stop being so nosy?”

He snorts. “I want to help you two sort this out. She's too stubborn, and so are you.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me,” you reply.

“Because you both are too proud.”

“Or I just don't want to go chase after her when it's clear she doesn't want to talk to me.”

Jayce sighs. “Look, you're my friend, I want to help you work it out.”

“She doesn't want to talk, Jayce,” you say firmly. “I don't know how to fix this if she's ignoring me.”

“That's the point, you have to make her talk.”

You scoff. “Yeah, make a girl talk who probably wants me dead right now.”

“She doesn't want you dead. Do you think it's a coincidence that she makes a point to talk to all the other regulars?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He lifts his shoulders. “I'm just saying, every time you're here, she tends to talk more to the customers, especially the male ones.”

“Are you saying she's flirting now?”

“No, I'm saying she's doing it for your attention.”

“Why would she be doing it for my attention? She made it pretty clear she doesn't want me around.”

He throws his arms up. “Because she wants you to get jealous. She wants you to react to it. She wants you to get mad and do something about it.”

“How would you know?”

“Maybe the fact that she's been glancing at you every five minutes for the past hour?”

“...she's not.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Stop saying that, I see her right-” and your sentence cuts off as your eyes flick over to where Jinx is, she's still talking to a customer.

The customer leans closer to her and says something that clearly makes her laugh. Her eyes dart in your direction as she laughs.

She's definitely looking at you. Jayce is right, she is looking at you. Her laughter dies at the same time her eyes lock on yours. She averts her gaze the moment she sees that you caught her.

“See?” Jayce says, “She keeps looking at you. She's doing it for your attention, not anyone else's.”

“Okay, so let's say she's doing it for my attention,” you continue. “What am I supposed to do about it? You said it yourself, she's stubborn.”

“You're going to have to do something that gets her attention. Make her upset, make her angry, make her do something. She won't talk unless you push her to.”

You stare at him. “Are you really implying what I think you're implying?”

He grins smugly. “That depends, what do you think I'm implying?”

“You're asking me to make her jealous.”

“I'm not asking you to do anything,” he retorts. “I'm suggesting you do it because it'll work. Do you want to continue like this, ignoring each other, for god knows how long? or do you want to get this sorted out?”

It sounds absurd. Ridiculous. Stupid. Immature. But if it makes her talk to you… “You really think it'll work?” you finally relent.

He grins knowingly. “Oh, it'll definitely work.”

—

It was a really stupid idea, especially coming from Jayce. But he was pretty adamant about it, and you were a bit too desperate.

You're trying your best to not scratch at the sleeve of this stupid shirt that Jayce forced you to wear. It's a dark blue long sleeve. Jayce claimed to have worn it on a ‘date,’ and it ‘worked’ with the person he was trying to date at the time. Now, you're the one wearing it.

“This is stupid.”

“No, it isn't,” Jayce insists from behind the counter. “It'll definitely work.”

“It's dumb.”

“Will you just do it?” he huffs. “She's going to be here soon.”

There's no way in hell this would work. It's just a shirt. There's no way that Jinx would-

The bell on the cafe door rings as it opens.

Jinx is walking through the door. She spots the counter where Jayce and you are, and she stops for a second.

She takes a look at you from head to toe, her gaze lingering longer on the dark blue shirt, and then she forcefully looks away from you and begins walking towards the break room where the lockers are.

Jayce elbows you in the side, nodding in her direction. “See? It's working-”

You elbow him back. “She just went to the break room, how is that working?”

“That was just the first step. Wait and see.”

—

You stand by the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish brewing a drink for a customer. Jinx is on the other side, making a different drink.

The machine's steam causes the sweat on your lower forearms to be sticky, causing the cloth to cling to your skin, and so you roll them up slightly, just above the elbow.

You make a point to not look at her, but you feel her attention fall onto your forearms, her eyes trailing down to the way your arms look, seeing the cloth of the shirt clinging from the sweat.

At the corner of your eye, you see her biting her lip, her breath hitching, and there's a subtle flush on her cheeks.

She looks away the second she realizes that you caught her staring at your arms, but it was enough for you to know that she was.

It's working. Damn it, it's actually working.

—

You feel her breath on the back of your neck as she reaches behind you for the coffee machine, her body just barely brushing against your back.

She quickly pulls away, going back to her end of the counter. “It's really hot in here,” she mumbles.

You nod, picking up a towel and wiping some sweat off your neck, lifting the collar of your shirt to wipe off your collarbone. “I know, the air conditioning really sucks.”

She stares at you, her eyes traveling down your neck to your collarbone. “It's hot in here…” she repeats. Then, she swallows and looks away with a cough, the steam from the machine giving a good excuse for the redness on her face. “Yeah, it really sucks.”

It goes on like that. Glances are stolen. Awkward touches are exchanged. The air seems to grow hotter every time you're near her.

You're surprised neither of you have passed out from heat exhaustion yet.

—

“Are you free this Friday..?” The customer in front of you asks.

You're well aware of the fact that Jinx is behind you. You can hear her moving around. “Uh, I-” you pause, trying to ignore the eyes that are boring into your skull. “Yeah. Why?”

“Do you have a…” she trails off and glances over your shoulder, “Girlfriend?”

Jayce coughs obnoxiously beside you as he wipes the countertop. You almost give him a look, but instead, you shake your head. “No, I'm single.”

There's a loud bang behind you. Jinx bumps something, and whatever it is clanks against the floor.

“Really?” she continues, her voice raising a tone. “A pretty girl like you doesn't have a girlfriend?”

Jayce says something under his breath, and you swear you hear a muttered “yet.”

You ignore him and respond to the customer. “Uh, you think I'm pretty?”

The customer looks you up and down, her eyes stopping just below your chest before slowly trailing down. “Yeah, you're pretty hot,” she replies as she leans forward, resting her hand on the counter and showing off way more skin than what most would consider decent.

“Ah, thank you,” you say politely, forcing your gaze to stay on the customer's face and not... anywhere else. “You're pretty yourself.”

There's another clang behind you.

The customer laughs and twirls a strand of her hair. “I bet you say that all the time.”

Jinx steps around you, almost brushing against your side.

“Not really,” you reply, keeping your eyes trained away from her. “I don't really-”

You're interrupted suddenly by Jinx, who is now standing directly beside you, grabbing something from the shelf. She leans in closer, her chest almost brushing against your arm as she grabs something.

It's the first time she's been so close to you in weeks.

She leans back, holding a container of matcha powder—the same one she always uses to make your latte—and she looks you in the eye. “You want your latte, right?” she asks you. She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

Yes. You miss her matcha latte so much. “No,” you force yourself to say, avoiding her eyes.

“Oh,” she says, she sounds surprised? “Really?” She looks down at the matcha powder, running a thumb over the label, and looks back up at you.

Don't look at her. “Yeah, I... I don't want one,” you lie.

“Are you sure? It's been a while since you had my matcha latte.”

You want one so much. You want her to smile and be carefree and make you a latte that will warm you down to the core, but- “I'm sure,” you lie again. “I'm good.”

“That's... that's a shame.”

“Yeah,” you reply, and you want to punch yourself because no, it's not a shame, it's a sin. You are an idiot. “Definitely a shame.”

She's just a few inches away, and all you want to do is reach out for her, take her into your arms, and make her look at you, but she looks at the matcha in her hands.

“Guess I wasted this then,” she mumbles before putting the container back and starting to take orders from the other customers.

“Idiot,” Jayce mutters, and you elbow him hard in the gut. He doubles over, clutching his stomach, and you turn back to the customer.

“Uh… anyway,” you say, then turn your attention back to the customer, forcing yourself to smile. “What were you saying?”

—

After a long shift, the café is finally empty, and the cleanup is done. You've mopped up the floors, put everything away, you're starting to get all nice and sweaty, and the break room has a much-needed air conditioner.

You open your locker and shoved your apron inside, sweat clinging to your shirt and making it cling to your skin. You grimace and reach down, trying to fix the collar of the shirt that feels tighter than normal.

Before you have a chance to readjust it, a glimpse of something in the locker catches your eye. You look down, and there, sitting in the center of your locker, is a cup of matcha latte.

You didn't put it there. Jayce didn't put it there either. So there is only one other person who could have put it there.

You pick up the cup, looking at the steaming drink. Well, you aren't going to drink it just to let it go to waste.

You immediately take a sip, feeling the warm, sweet taste of matcha on your tongue. It's been so long since you had this, and it's still the same taste as the ones she used to make for you when you two were in a... good place.

That was a long time ago now. Things are different now.

“So you do want one.”

A familiar voice makes you jump, causing you to almost spill the drink. You turn around to find the bluenette leaning against the doorframe to the break room.

“I made it for you, in case you wanted it,” she adds, entering the break room, then leaning one shoulder against the row of lockers. Jinx looks at your face, then your shirt. “You look sweaty.”

You want to say something, but your brain forgets how to function when she's looking you up and down.

“I like the shirt,” she comments, pointing at the shirt that is a little too tight around your shoulders. “It looks good. Fits you well.”

“It's not my shirt,” you reply, placing the cup down on a nearby table, hoping that she'll let that be the end of that. “Jayce gave it to me.”

“He did?” she asks, and you catch a subtle whiff of her favorite perfume. It makes you want to grab her and drown in it.

“Uh, yeah,” you mutter, pulling the collar of your shirt nervously.

She looks over to your nervous gesture, and her lips twitch. “You should loosen the collar,” she notes. “You're going to suffocate like that.”

Her comment gives you pause, and you try loosening the collar, but your sweaty hands can't get a grip. “Here.” 

She reaches up, her delicate fingers undo the first few buttons of your shirt, exposing your collarbones. Her fingers then pull the collar slightly, allowing your hot skin the cool touch of air.

“There,” she murmurs once the collar is loose. “That looks more comfortable.”

You manage to find enough sanity to nod, knowing that if you speak now, your voice will most likely crack. You expect her to pull back, but her fingers remain, trailing over your collar as though they just happened to land there.

Her eyes roaming over your neck before lifting to your face. Your eyes are caught on her as well, studying every movement of her face, the way her expression softens and her eyes drift over your features.

“...I'm sorry.”

The words finally bring your attention back. “What?” 

She pauses, biting her bottom lip. “I said I'm sorry,” she clarifies. “I... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that a week ago. Shouldn't have said what I said.”

“Then why did you?” you ask, eyes fixed on her lips.

Jinx seems to struggle with her next words, her hand finally dropping from your collar. “...I don't know how to handle things well,” she whispers, “I wasn't... I wasn't feeling well either. That's why I lost it. You showed up... when I wasn't in the right mind frame, and I said all these stupid things-”

She sighs and pushes some hair behind one of her ears. “I was stupid. I was stupid, and I said some awful things. Words I didn't mean and couldn't take back. Everything with my college work started to pile up, and I felt like I couldn't handle it. So you showed up and-” she swallows. “-I took it out on you… and then I just ignored you for a week.” She shifts from foot to foot. “I… I wasn't trying to avoid you. I just... I thought you'd be annoyed.”

“Annoyed because you were ignoring me?”

“No—yes—maybe—I don't know, alright?” she says hastily. “I just... I wasn't in the mindset to talk, ok? I was trying to figure things out.”

“You could’ve told me-”

“-I don't do so well when it comes to opening up about my feelings-” she stops, then shakes her head. “-I don't do so well with being honest with myself.”

You let out a breath. “I know... I know you don't, but that-”

“Stop,” she interrupts you, raising a hand. “Just... stop. I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that I should work on being better instead of pushing you away.” She continues. “I know I do it. I know I'm bad at it, and I'm not good with my emotions. I know I'm not the best at saying how I feel. I know I should work on my communication.”

“Why don't you then?” you ask bluntly. “Why don't you do something about it? why can't you just try to deal with things instead of pushing me away and dealing with everything alone? why can't you just talk to me instead of bottling everything up?”

She closes her eyes, looking away. “I don't know,” she exhales, “I just... I don't know how.”

“You could start today,” you tell her, reaching out. Your fingers brush over the back of her hand.

Her eyes drop to where you touch her and linger.

“Right now,” you emphasize, “Just... try. You don't have to start working on all your emotions and feelings. Just say one thing. Tell me how you feel, right now.”

She shakes her head, refusing to look at you.

“Tell me one thing,” you insist, “Just one thing. Try.”

She sighs, as if you're the worst person in the world. Maybe you are. “Okay-” she starts and finally looks up, “If you're trying to make me spill out my feelings-”

“I am,” you confirm. “That’s exactly-”

“-Then maybe I should show you first-” she continues over you “-What I'm feeling.”

She suddenly reaches out and grabs the back of your neck, gripping it tight enough to pull you forward.

“Hey-” you stumble, hands instinctively wrapping around her waist, but any protests you might've had are smothered because her lips are suddenly on yours.

A week of ignoring each other, and suddenly she's kissing you.

Her lips are so soft. So soft and insistent, and when you don't respond because your brain is still trying to catch up, her teeth graze over your bottom lip, and it's this gesture that snaps you out of it.

You kiss her back, eyes finally closing, and lean in to meet her. Your fingers sink into the fabric of her shirt, and her arms wind around your neck. Her mouth parts, and you take the silent invitation, your tongue slipping in, exploring the inside of her mouth.

She tastes like the feeling when it's cold, and your teeth ache, and it feels like all warmth has left your body, but then you take a sip of your hot drink, and the burn of the drink goes down your throat, and you feel just the tiniest bit warmer. It's not enough, it isn't enough to make your fingers warm or the tip of your nose, but still, the small warmth you feel is better than none.

You want to bottle up this feeling, this taste, and store it in the back of your throat until, when you need it, you can just swallow and feel the warmth.

She hums, low in her throat, and it sounds like a moan. She pushes you forward until your back is met with the lockers, pinning your body between the hard surface and herself.

Her teeth graze your lip again, her tongue teases yours, and you shiver despite the warmth you feel. “I was stupid,” she mumbles against your mouth, “So, so stupid.”

You grunt out some sort of agreement because yes, she is stupid and yes, you're stupid and yes, you're both idiots for ignoring each other.

You feel her smile before she pulls herself away. “That,” she murmurs, breathless, “that was what I was feeling.”

You open your eyes to look at her, and notice her pink cheeks, half-lidded eyes, her swollen lips, and you fight down the urge to turn her around and just shove her back against the locker and kiss her senseless.

“Are-” you manage, breathing hard, trying to regain the words that have fled from your head, “Are all your emotions channeled through your mouth?”

“Maybe,” she says, eyes dropping to your lips. “Is there a problem with using my mouth?”

There are a lot of words you would like to say. Words relating to how her mouth has driven you crazy for a long time, that you've spent more time than you'd like to admit imagining what it would be like to kiss her and see that mouth do things other than talking.

Too bad, all those words are stuck in your throat. “No,” you grit out, “No... there's no problem.”

“Great,” she replies, then grins, leaning closer until your noses bump. “Then maybe my mouth has more things to show you.”

—

The usual routine of making matcha lattes continues, and the days slowly pass.

Each day, Jinx greets you with a smile and a cup of that disgustingly good matcha. You no longer try to argue with your taste buds. You have given up and accepted the matcha as a part of yourself. Now you drink the horrible drink willingly.

And your relationship with Jinx went from ‘maybe something’ to ‘maybe nothing’ to ‘definitely something.’ You're finally dating, which isn't to say that everything is magically all better. Jinx is still Jinx, and you're still you.

So not everything changes.

The cafe still looks the same, the customers still act the same, you still have to deal with shitty customers and traffic. But even through all the normal, unchanged things, there's one thing that's different.

Jinx is now in your life.

“Hey-” Jinx waves a hand in front of your face. “Are you listening to anything I'm saying?”

“Uh-” you blink, returning to reality. “...yeah,” you lie, giving a sheepish smile, “totally listening.”

She stares at you for a long, long moment, as if trying to determine if you're lying to her or not. Apparently, she thinks you're being truthful.

“Great, now pay attention.” She resumes her instructions, and you try your hardest to pay attention. Mostly. Maybe.

You watch as she grabs a glass bottle from the shelf above the coffee machine and pours a small amount of... something into her mug. “What's that?” you ask.

“Honey.”

“Yeah?”

“Honey,” she repeats, tilting the bottle for you to see. “Honey. Sweet, golden honey.”

Ah, that honey. “That's what I thought.” You nod, like that completely makes sense.

Jinx rolls her eyes but hands you the bottle so you can read the label for yourself.  “This,” she explains, “is what makes my matcha better.”

You look between the bottle and the mug of matcha before placing the honey back on the shelf.

She stirs the matcha and takes a sip, then gives you a smug look. “See? That's why it's better.”

The honey is almost as sweet as the way she's looking at you.

“Sweet,” is what you say instead of how you'd love nothing more than to taste it off her lips. 

She stares at you for a moment, and then she smirks. “Want to try it?” she asks, holding out the cup.

“Sure,” you answer. Why not?

You reach for the cup and lift it to your mouth. You take a small sip of the hot liquid, and… the matcha is sweet, and sweeter because it was in her mouth only moments ago.

“What do you think?” she asks as she takes the drink and sets it on the counter.

“Perfect,” you admit, licking your lips, trying to get rid of some of the sweetness.

She lifts up a hand, her thumb brushes against your lip, wiping away the remnants of the matcha. “You missed a bit.”

You want to grab her hand and-

She pulls her hand away from your mouth and then sucks off the same thumb that had lingered against you while staring at you directly in the eye. “Mhm… Tastes better this way.”

That's it. You'll drag her into the break room and kiss her until neither of you can breathe-

But, before you can do any of that, the cafe door chimes.

Customer, your brain reminds you. It's like getting pulled from a dream... right as it's getting good.

“Hey,” she whispers, “Let's continue this later, yeah?” 

That... sounds like a great idea. Amazing idea. Customer first. And then later.

—

The wind whips through both of your hairs as you pedal down the sidewalk. After putting in long hours and some very generous coffee tips, you've saved up enough to finally repair your bike.

Your ears pick up a familiar chuckle. “This is awesome!” she exclaims, “We're like birds, but cooler.”

Jinx's arms are wrapped around your waist, her legs pressed up beside your thighs, and you don't need to see her face to know that she's grinning.

You grip the handlebars tighter. “We're nothing like birds,” you reply, “Birds can actually fly.”

You feel the soft brush of her lips against the back of your shoulder. “But we're much cooler, right?” she counters.

Your retort dies in your throat as she presses her chin to your shoulder.

“Mmm, I'll take your silence as a yes,” she hums, her breath tickling your ear. She nuzzles her nose against the back of your neck. “You know, I don't think I've ever been this happy.”

“Ever?” you ask, focusing on the road in front of you. “Of all the years you've lived, you're the happiest now? when you're sitting on a bike, of all things?”

She pinches your waist, making you twitch slightly. “Well, if we're being honest, it's not the bike I'm happiest about,” she replies. “It's you that I'm happiest about.”

You roll your eyes to yourself. She's always so honest. You're grateful that she isn't in front of you, because your face feels unusually warm despite the breeze. “You like me that much?” you ask, half joking, half serious.

“Mmm,” she hums, “I like you a lot, actually. Like... a lot, lot.” Each word is emphasized with a light kiss to your shoulder.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup,” she continues to pepper kisses on your back. “My favorite person in this whole, shitty city.”

“I'm honored,” you quip, trying to sound mocking, but the tone is ruined by the fact that you're smiling without realizing.

She snorts at your lame response against your shoulder, and you feel the brush of her fingertips underneath the hem of your shirt.

“You might be my favorite person too.”

“Only might?” She laughs. “You don't sound very certain.”

“Eh, it's a hard competition,” you reply, making a slow turn left, “There's lots of people in this city-” and you feel her pinch your side again. “But, yes, maybe you're my favorite.”

“Maybe?”

“Definitely,” you correct, feeling her hum against your back.

“Ah, there we go,” she says approvingly. “I knew you had great taste.”

Your smile is wide, and you have the urge to turn around and kiss her, but you're pretty sure that will result in a crash. “Oh, and how did you know?”

“I just had a feeling,” she murmurs, “I always had a feeling we'd end up like this.”

You focus on pedaling, your feet moving in a circular rhythm. “Did you just... know?”

“Yeah. I just knew.”

“You just... knew?” you repeat.

“Sometimes you just know when something is going to happen,” Jinx says. “It just makes sense. Like how the sun will rise every morning... or something.”

You pedal forward, the subway entrance comes into view. “Like the sun will rise every morning,” you repeat, “or something.”

She pauses, and the sound of the wind is the only thing that fills your ears. “You know…” she starts after a moment of calm silence.

She presses her forehead against your shoulder, her grip tightening around your waist, and you can hear her drawing in a deep, shaky breath.

“When I'm bored,” she whispers, and you can feel her hair brush up against your nape, “I sometimes think about you.”

She continues. “It sounds weird, but yeah. I don't think about you in a ‘sexual way’ that people do with crushes or anything like that. I just... want to be with your presence or see your smile or hear you laugh... or just sit with you.”

You blink, surprised by her words. 

“You make me feel better than anyone else can, and I've had to watch your ass almost every day when you're at the café.”

“That's my fault? you never had to watch my ass, that's a choice you made.”

She scoffs, pinching your side again. “Shhhhh, I'm having a moment here.”

You chuckle softly. “Right, sorry, sorry. Continue.”

“Thank you-” she huffs. “Anyway, I just…” Jinx pauses, her words coming to a stop, and you continue to pedal in silence.

“Sometimes, when I'm not happy or sad, I just... think about you. When I'm lonely and I need someone to say something... when I'm really angry and when I'm so tired of everything and everyone... I think about you. I don't understand why I feel that way. I know that it's not normal.” She hesitates, and you can feel her fingers tighten around your abdomen. “Because even though it's not normal, I don't think it's wrong. I just want to… have you by my side.”

Her words echo in your head, and you find yourself listening more intently than you thought you would.

She sucks in another breath. “I don't care what we're doing, I don't care what we talk about... I just want you to be around.” She presses another soft kiss to the back of your shoulder and buries her face in your shirt once again, mumbling, “I'm happy.”

You swallow, taking your left hand off the handlebar to place it over her hands. “I... I want to be around you too.”

She sighs in relief. “I'm a bit insane,” she whispers. “I'm not.. normal.”

“I don't care if you're not normal,” you reply quietly, your fingers brushing across her knuckles. “Who wants to be normal, anyway?”

She chuckles and kisses your shoulder, inhaling your scent.

You can see a glimpse of the subway station just ahead, the entrance of a tunnel on standby.

You pedal slowly, taking a few more seconds to enjoy the wind and the warmth of Jinx's behind, and then come to a stop in front of the subway entrance.

Her arms loosen their grip on your waist, and you feel the heat of her body leave your back as she hops off the seat. You swing your legs off of the bike and put down the kickstand before facing her.

Your eyes trail over to the tunnel, the sounds of the trains coming in and out of the subway filling the night sky.

“This is me.” She jerks a thumb towards the entrance.

You nod. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. Work. Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you echo.

You can see people walking into the station in your peripheral vision, the world continuing to go on despite the standstill you're in. Your eyes don't leave her as you both hesitate, neither of you wanting to leave. You're both just standing awkwardly, looking at each other.

You can't help but look at her with fondness. She's not even doing anything, just standing in front of you, and you still think that she's the most beautiful person in the world.

You watch her smile in response, and you have the urge to reach out, wanting to pull her back into you.

“Guess I should…” her voice trails off, and she makes a gesture with her hand. “Subway time.”

“Yeah…” you say softly, “Subway time.”

She doesn't move, though. Neither of you do.

Her eyes flit between the tunnel and you, and she gnaws at her lower lip. “You should, uh…” she begins, “...go.”

“Yeah, I should…” You should. You know you should. You should pedal back to your apartment, maybe do some dishes, and go to bed. You have class tomorrow, and Jinx is going into the subway. 

But you take a step forward. She looks at the ground. “Are you... are you going to hug me?”

“Should I?”

She shrugs. “I don't know. Do you... want to?”

“I could be convinced.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles anyway. “Yeah? you could be convinced, huh? what would it take for you to agree then?”

You tap your chin with your index finger, pretending to think. It's not like you need to put much thought into it. “I don't know. A few hundred bucks? A fancy dinner? Maybe a yacht?”

She smacks your arm with a huff and a glare. “You aren't taking this seriously.”

“Oh-” you say, clutching the fake wound, “You're brutal. I'm wounded, I'm injured-”

She crosses her arms and gives you a deadpan look. With a laugh, you step forward and wrap your arms around her waist. Her arms immediately slide over your shoulders as she burrows herself into your neck.

You breathe in her scent, closing your eyes. Your chin rests on her shoulder comfortably, and you feel her fingers slide into your hair.

“Just one more second,” she whispers.

You nuzzle her neck in response, and her fingers tighten around the back of your head. Her breath ghosts against your ear, and you swallow, feeling the goosebumps rise on the back of your neck.

You could stay like this with her for an eternity. On the sidewalk in front of the subway entrance. You could take turns leaning on her shoulder.

But the world doesn't work like that, and your moment is being watched by a few strangers walking in the entrance. She pulls back just far enough to be able to look at you but still holds onto you. 

Her hands cup your cheeks, and you find yourself staring at each other for a few seconds, her face lit up by the orange glow of a nearby streetlamp.

She's looking at you, you're looking at her, and the world hasn't collapsed. Her eyes trail over every feature, and you wonder if she sees you the same way too—if she finds each piece of you as beautiful as you do of her.

She brushes her thumb lightly over your cheek and the corner of her lips twitches into a smile. Her smile widens as she looks at you, showing the slight gap between her two front teeth, and it's- it's… 

You blink, feeling your knees grow weak, you can almost hear the sound of wedding bells and wonder if you've just found the closest thing to heaven on earth.

She presses a light kiss to your nose. “See you, partner,” she murmurs. She takes hold of your chin with one hand and presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“See you,” you repeat. You can't help but smile, a bit dumbly.

She stares at you for a second longer before finally letting go of your chin and stepping back. You try to memorize every detail of her as she walks backward. “Call me when you get home, 'kay?” she says.

You nod. “Okay”

She stops in the subway entrance and offers a small wave.

You wave back, but you keep waving even after she disappears into the tunnel. You keep waving, even after the last of her is gone, until you're just standing there like a fool, waving goodbye to the empty subway entrance. You realize just how dumb you look, waving to nothing, and finally drop your hand.

You tear your eyes away and stare at the bike that sits abandoned on the sidewalk, waiting for you. You finally pick up the kickstand and grab the handles, starting to pedal.

You think about tomorrow.

Tomorrow is when you're going to deal with shitty customers in the shitty city. 

Tomorrow is her smile as she hands you your cup, making your day before it even starts.

Tomorrow is drinking a matcha latte, a drink you used to hate, but now you look forward to it, because she makes it.

Tomorrow is her arm around your waist as you take her to the subway.

Tomorrow is her pulling away and saying, “See you, partner.”

Tomorrow with her… and it's almost as if, for the first time, you don't dread tomorrow.

[currently-exsisting]

Girlfriend material

© 2024 theprismyyy — please do not copy, translate or repost any of my works without my permission.

[currently-exsisting]

PHOTOBOOTH WITH NAT • 📸

summery: you and nat are alone in a photobooth and you decide to have some fun🦌

warnings: thigh riding (r!receiving)

notes: if it bothers you that I'm a minor and write smut do NOT interact or harass me

you and nat had been best friends for years, she was always the "cool" one, she drank and smoked, she hooked up with girls, while most of the time you decided to stay home .

today was one of your many days of the week where you'd go out with her, sometimes you'd go to the mall, maybe on a drive, it didn't matter where you went, all that mattered was that it was always just you two . out of the corner of your eye you saw a photobooth near an ice cream shop, 'nat c'mon let's go to the photobooth!' you pulled on her sleeve, walking with her towards it, she stepped in and sat down on the small pedal, 'c'mom sit on my lap' she patted her thigh .

the thought of sitting on her thigh made you nervous but you took the opportunity, you sat on her lap and adjusted your position, she groaned at the feeling but you chose to ignore it . 'okay press the green button' you listened to her commands and pressed the button in front of you, the robotic voice started to count down till the first photo would be taken . 'what pose should we do?' natalie asked, 'uhm maybe a heart' you shrugged, she nodded and put her hand in a half heart, you put yours up to hers and smiled for the photo

the bright light flashed and the first photo was done, you moved your legs and natalies thigh bumped perfectly against your clit, you quietly whimpered, hoping nat wouldn't hear , 'did you just whimper?' she cocked her head, you shook your head trying to play it off . 'i think you did' she placed her hands around your waist, 'i think my thigh hit your clit and you liked it' she whispered into your ear, you froze up and your breath hitched, she turned you around so you were straddling her lap .

'can I kiss you?' she leaned in, her face so close to yours you could feel her breath against your lips, 'mhm' you slowly nodded, she crashed her lips against yours, she wrapped her hand around the back of your neck and squeezed it, you moaned into the kiss as she pressed your core to her leg .

'you like that?' you perfusily nodded and continued grinding down, 'nat i want you' you said through kisses, 'yeah? you want me?' she chuckled, her hands slithered down to your hips, she pressed your clit down on her thigh and rocked your hips, the feeling was like no other, she sped up her pace and rocked your hips harder

you couldn't help but moan, you buried your face into her neck and bit her shoulder, at the moment she didn't even care about the pain, she was too busy focused on your orgasm, 'nat' you squealed, you grabbed onto her arms and felt a familiar feeling grow in your stomach, but this time it was much much more intense . 'm'gonna cum' you mumbled, you felt your wet cunt clench around nothing, 'you gonna cum? let it out baby, c'mon' she gently slapped your thigh .

your orgasm hit you like a brick, as soon as you felt your juices leak onto her jeans you heard the robotic voice count down, natalie was taking a photo as you rode her .

you felt yourself come down from your high you let go of natalie's arms, 'mhh' you tiredly hummed and lifted yourself off natalie . she pulled you back down in her lap and cupped your jaw, 'where ya going? we still got two photos left angel' she smiled

[currently-exsisting]

People arguing whats better, Lightcannon or Timebomb.

none BRUH

I ship Jinx with myself aka Fem!Reader

Being delulu is the selulu ✨💖

[currently-exsisting]

Will never get over Jinx’s side boob.

[currently-exsisting]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Alchemy and Anarchy . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

(Jinx x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Sexually suggestive content, drugging, alcohol, explosion, mentions of deadly material (bombs, potions, poisonous plants, etc). lmk if there's anything I missed!

Note: Jinx and the reader’s interactions really kick off in this chapter, and things are only going to escalate from here. There are mentions of the brothel, and while the reader feels embarrassed, I want to emphasize that I cast no judgment on those who work at or visit such establishments. If anything in my portrayal comes across as disrespectful or inappropriate, please let me know so I can alter it.

Word count: 2.2K

The next few weeks dragged on at such a slow pace you thought you might lose your mind. Your classes were piling on assignments and exams, leaving you with barely any time to visit your secret lab. The chemicals you had purchased now sat forgotten, gathering dust in a cupboard.

You tried to focus on your schoolwork, rushing to finish everything so you could return to your experiments once exam season was over. But during those late-night study sessions, when you were admittedly half-delirious, your mind kept drifting to a certain girl with twin blue braids. You’d catch yourself staring at the same page for an hour, lost in the same loop of questions, obsessively rearranged and overanalyzed.

Why did she think bombs were better than potions? Did she make that bomb? Of course, she did—she nearly killed you. But she didn’t. Did she want to? It was terrifying but… oddly thrilling. Why didn’t she? What was she even doing there?

Who is “she”?

Slowly but surely, these questions began to gnaw at you. Finally, you decided: you would finish your exams, perfect your potion, and head back to the Undercity to prove, once and for all, that potions were superior to bombs.

This plan, like most plans, was much easier to imagine than execute. It took another week to finish your exams, and then almost a month to create the best potion you had ever crafted. When it was finally done, it was a masterpiece.

You named it “Lullaby’s Illusions.” The potion was an aromatic compound that, when inhaled, induced a euphoric state of calm and relaxation. While under its effects, a person would retain all their senses but be far more open to suggestions, pliable to the user’s will. It was the perfect way to make a certain blue-haired explosives enthusiast admit that Alchemy was the better craft.

Unconsciously, you had added extra ingredients to enhance the potion’s appearance. They didn’t change its effects but gave it a translucent, shimmering blue color that shifted hues when agitated. Every time you looked at the potion, you were reminded of your objective.

With the potion complete, you packed your satchel and set off for the Undercity, a new spring in your step. By the time you made it from the academy to the lift and down to Zaun, it was already midday. Your excitement buzzed—purely about proving the potion’s excellence, of course, nothing more. But your enthusiasm faltered as your heart sank.

How could you have been so careless? So blinded by determination that you forgot one critical detail? Amid all your studying and experimenting, you hadn’t worked out where to find her.

Asking the citizens of Zaun was out of the question. Most greeted you with either icy glares or outright hostility. If they weren’t giving you death stares, they were spitting at your feet when you refused their demands for money. (Yes, you lived in Piltover, but you were still a student—you weren’t made of gold.)

So you spent the afternoon wandering aimlessly, trying not to stray too far from the lift in case you needed to make a quick escape. Somewhere along the way, though, you must have taken a wrong turn because now you were completely lost.

As if things couldn’t get worse, you were starving. You hadn’t eaten since morning, foolishly assuming your mission would only take half a day. You tried to ignore the gnawing in your stomach as you ducked into a shadowy corner, taking in your surroundings. Now that night had fallen, the streets of Zaun were alive with activity. The city felt entirely transformed. One building, in particular, caught your eye.

A neon sign in front of a rundown structure read “The Vyx.” Unlike the other dilapidated buildings, this one bustled with people coming and going. A restaurant? A bar? Rational thought was overruled by the pangs of hunger.

As you approached, you noticed a small figure with prominent ears and pink hair perched on a windowsill, puffing on an unusually long cigarette holder. The smoke curled into hypnotic pink wisps. The strange woman spoke, snapping you out of your trance.

“Looking for a good time? We’ve got plenty of space. Come on in.”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the invitation. The seductive tone in the woman’s voice should have been a telltale sign, but your hunger clouded your judgment, and you stepped inside without a second thought.

The interior offered no clarity either. The dimly lit hallway stretched before you, its walls lined with doors and small windows. Driven by curiosity, you cautiously peered into one of the windows. You saw three individuals, butt naked, all sprawled out on top of each other. The sight made your face flush, and within seconds, you were briskly making your way back toward the exit. They sure were eating in there but not quite the cuisine you were up for at the moment. 

You exited the door of the brothel with your head down and face flushed, speeding past the Yordle woman in the front, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing. You made your way out of that alley and into another one in record time. This alley was also buzzing with noise, and everyone seemed to be heading into a single building. It stood much taller than the Vyx and had a glowing green sign that almost looked like an eye. In the center of the sign were the words “The Last Drop,” accompanied by a picture of a beer glass.

You made a beeline for the door, weaving your way through the crowd. The inside was no better than the outside, jam-packed with rugged, drunk people who had little to no regard for their surroundings. Beer was spilled on your shoes more times than you could count, and your ribs ached from all the miscellaneous elbows jamming into them. Finally, you made your way to the bar.

As you waited for the man behind the counter to finish his transaction, you heard an annoyingly familiar voice. “Come back to me so soon, toots? Did ya miss me?” You felt her presence as she appeared behind you, buzzing electricity and all. 

You rolled your eyes in exasperation—just when you finally found some food, you got disturbed again. “Miss you? Hardly. I came to remind you that alchemy is superior to your crude fireworks. But seeing you here, I suppose the loudest thing about you isn’t your bombs—it’s your ego.”

The blue-haired girl’s face contorted into a fake, over-exaggerated pout. “Aw, don't roll your eyes at me, princess! I thought you nerds liked surprises. You know, potions and magic and all that boring stuff? Or are you just here to gawk at the real star of the Undercity?”

You loudly breathe out your nose, over her already. “You? A star? Don’t make me laugh.” You were regretting even coming down to the Undercity that day. 

Jinx’s smirk widened, her head tilting mischievously as a dangerous sparkle lit up her eyes. "Oh, I'm not just a star, toots. I'm the whole damn galaxy." She leaned into your personal space, her energy crackling like live wires.

“Everyone knows who I am, princess. But since you seem so desperately confused, let me spell it out for you.” With a theatrical twirl, she threw her hands in the air as though commanding a stage, pausing for dramatic effect. "The name’s Jinx. But you can call me whatever your little heart desires."

At last, the waiter was free. You wasted no time beckoning him over, rattling off your order without even glancing at the menu. “Just bring me whatever’s most popular.”

“Heya up, Chuck! I'll have the usual!” Jinx chimed in, plopping down onto one of the bar stools beside you. She shot you an expectant glance as you sighed, placing your satchel in your lap before reluctantly sitting next to her. 

When “Chuck” had left, muttering something about how Jinx never got his name right, the blue-haired girl turned to face you with an all-knowing smirk plastered on her face. “Soooo what were you doing at the brothel? Lookin for some company?”

Your face instantly heated, your stomach knotting in embarrassment. How did she know? You’d practically sprinted out of there. “No, I just got lost.” Your head pounded from hunger and the cacophony of the bar, and your patience was wearing thin. "How do you even know that? Were you following me?"

Jinx let out a cackling laugh, the sound sharp and unrestrained, drawing a few stares from nearby patrons. "Oh, princess, I don’t follow people—I just happen to be wherever the fun is. And you? You’re like a little lost puppy sniffing around where you don’t belong." She leaned closer, her grin widening as she whispered conspiratorially, “But hey, I gotta admit, watching you stumble out of that place? Priceless.”

She leaned back, giggling as if this conversation was the highlight of her day. "So, what’s it gonna be, nerd? Gonna keep wandering the Undercity looking for trouble? Or are you finally ready to admit you’re just here ‘cause you missed lil’ ol’ me?"

It was your turn to let out a chuckle now. “I think you’re misunderstanding. I told you, I never missed you. I was just passing through Zaun and happened to be carrying this around with me.” you pulled out the shimmering blue potion—a hue so vivid, it almost perfectly mirrored Jinx’s unmistakable hair color.

Jinx’s eyes lit up as the potion caught the dim light. A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned in closer, her chin resting on her hands like a curious child—except her smirk was anything but innocent.

“Oh, what’s this? Shiny, sparkly,” She moved it around under the dim lights. She then popped open the tan cork  and took a long sniff before recapping it, “smells fancy.” Your eyes widened at this action- the potion took effect when inhaled. Perfect. You didn’t even need to do anything.  

Jinx’s grin widened, her eyes narrowing playfully as she leaned in, the potion held casually between her fingers. “So, what’s it do, princess? Gonna make me love you forever? Or just knock me out so you can drag me back to Piltover like a good little nerd?”

Her teasing laughter rang out, and the gleam in her eye made your cheeks burn. She tossed the potion lightly in the air, catching it with ease. “Well? Spill the beans—or, y’know, the potion. What makes this better than my big, beautiful explosions?”

Just as you were about to reply, Chuck returned with your food and a drink for Jinx. This was about to get very interesting. You wanted to test out the potion's effects so you turned to the waiter, “Thanks so much, we really appreciate it, don’t we Jinx?” You look over expectantly at her.

“Oh yea, thanks a bunch Chuck” She said this in a sincere tone, not sarcasm or threats laced into her words which took the waiter by surprise. “Oh, uh, no problem.” He nodded then went back to help another guest.

You began eating your food, scarfing it down without even properly chewing while Jinx looked at you inquisitively. She didn’t feel any different- not drowsy or loopy but she knew something was off. After you finished your plate you turned and faced her once more to continue your ‘experiment’ (if you will). 

“So Jinx, after looking at my potion, you should just admit that Alchemy is much cooler than bombs are.” You crossed your legs, waiting expectantly.

The result you got didn’t disappoint you at all. “Of course, toots, your potions, and silly nerd stuff are much more fun than my explosives.” She nodded, as if completely at peace with her words. Finally, you got your long-awaited confession. But you were already here so you might as well continue playing.

You locked your eyes with her electric pink ones. “And wouldn’t you also say that I’m the best-looking and smartest person you’ve ever met?”

“Hmmm the smartest, I don’t know, have you ever built one of these bad boys from scratch?” She gestured to her gun and bombs fastened at her hip. Well fuck. You forgot to keep track of the time and it seems like between the eating and conversation with Chuck, the potion had stopped affecting her. 

She leaned over to you, keeping eye contact so that your faces were mere inches apart. “Without a doubt, you’re the hottest toots, but you didn’t need to drug me to get a compliment out of me. You coulda just said you were in love with me.” 

Your eyes involuntarily flickered between her eyes and lips, “yea? You wish I were in love with you. But you confessed that Alchemy is superior and cooler than bomb-making. Your own words.” You smirked, your eyes settling on her pink orbs. 

Jinx laughed, loudly and unapologeticly, drawing a few stares from the bar. “Oh, toots, you’re adorable when you’re smug. But don’t think for a second I’m done playing with you.” She leaned closer again, her eyes narrowing. “I might just have to show you what real chaos looks like.”

Her words hung in the air, equal parts challenge and promise, leaving your pulse pounding in your ears.

[currently-exsisting]

fic writers:

[currently-exsisting]

i love girls with tiny boobs, girls with gigantic boobs I DONT CAREEEE just come here you’re so pretty . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[currently-exsisting]

I got jinx 😌😌😌

I'm Back! With a season 2 Uquiz

The options are now Jinx, Ekko, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Viktor and Jayce. They all have their season 2 characterization in mind. I got Jinx, to nobody's surprise lol

Ciao!

[currently-exsisting]

「 ✦ first position, first impression ✦ 」

Jinx x ballerina!reader / modern AU

─── ballerina masterlist ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

summary: In the quiet of the studio, you were all precision and grace—until chaos herself walked in, grinning and uninvited, ready to flip your world upside down the same way she flipped the spray paint can in her hand.

contents: modern AU, opposites attract, meet-cute (kind of)

author's note: me? writing a ballerina fic? who would’ve thought.

The ballet studio was supposed to be empty. You had made sure of it. No prying eyes, no unwanted interruptions—just you, the mirrored walls, and the steady rhythm of your pointe shoes against the polished wood floor.

You loved these late-night practices. They were your time to breathe, to refine, to let your body tell a story words couldn’t. Tonight, the story was one of frustration—rehearsal hadn’t gone well, your instructor’s criticisms echoing in your mind.

More passion. More presence.

You stood at the center of the room, your feet perfectly aligned, arms curving into the first position. The music from your phone swelled, something classical and haunting. You’d been at it for hours now, the soreness in your legs creeping in, but you refused to stop.

Perfection doesn’t allow for breaks.

Your movements were precise yet flowing, each step a piece of something larger. You didn’t notice the faint click of the door unlocking or the light shuffle of boots on the floorboards. You exhaled deeply and moved into a pirouette—the rotation was smooth, but your landing faltered, your weight wobbling slightly. A sharp sigh escaped your lips as you returned to your starting position.

CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.

You stumbled, spinning around to face the sound. There, leaning against the doorframe with a grin so wide it bordered on mocking, was a girl.

Blue hair—bright, messy, and sticking out in every direction. A pair of goggles sat pushed up on her head, catching the studio’s harsh fluorescent light, her jacket covered in patches and scuffs. She had a can of spray paint in one hand, and you swore you could see the air of chaos around her.

“Well, don’t stop now,” the girl said. “That was almost good.”

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended.

She pushed off the doorframe, completely unfazed, sauntering in like she owned the place. “Me? Oh, I’m just the humble artist who’s about to improve these boring white walls.” She gestured grandly at the pristine space. “But now I’m thinking maybe I’ll stick around for the floor show instead.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “This is a private studio. You’re trespassing.”

“Pfft, ‘trespassing.’ Such a fancy word.” The girl smirked, walking further into the room. “I was just passing by and heard the music. Figured I’d check it out. Didn’t expect to find you, twinkle toes.”

You straightened, a spark of indignation flaring. “I’m practicing.”

“Oh, so I saw.” She tilted her head, grinning. Was she mocking you? “Don’t get me wrong, you’re good. Very swan-like. Majestic.”

You blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden compliment. “I—thank you?”

The girl grinned again, and you instantly regretted acknowledging it.

“But,” she added, circling you like a predator sizing up its prey, “you’re so stiff. Like, do you even know how to have fun? Or is it all, like, one-two-three-four, rinse and repeat?”

“Stiff?” You echoed while the faintest flush rose to your cheeks—from the casual compliment or the taunt that came after, you weren’t sure. “Ballet is about discipline. It’s not supposed to be—”

“Fun?” she cut in, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Chaotic,” you finished, your eye twitch barely perceptible.

“Chaos is fun!” she declared, tossing her spray paint can into the air and catching it. “Here, I’ll show you.”

Before you could protest, the blue-haired girl spun in place, flailing her arms in an exaggerated parody of a pirouette. She stomped her boots loudly on the floor, throwing herself into a clumsy leap that ended with her sliding on her knees, hands outstretched like she’d just performed a grand finale.

“Ta-da!” she exclaimed, grinning up at you.

You blinked. And then blinked again.

You tried to hold onto your irritation, but the sheer absurdity of the performance made it impossible. The only graceful thing about it was her braids, flowing like water despite herself. A giggle escaped before you could stop it.

And her grin only widened. “Oh, I like that sound. You should do that more.”

“Laugh at you?” you asked, arching a brow.

“Exactly.” She stood up and dusted herself off. “So, what’s your name, ballerina?”

You hesitated. The girl radiated trouble, the kind that left a mess wherever it went. But there was something oddly magnetic about her—like she carried her own orbit and dared people to get pulled into it.

“…Y/N,” you finally replied.

“Y/N.” she tested the name, her voice turning almost sing-song. “Fancy. Mine’s Jinx.”

“Jinx? That’s your name?” you asked skeptically, although it explained a lot.

“Yep. Short, sweet, memorable. Unlike your stiff little arabesque.”

You frowned. There’s that word again. You knew she was just pushing your buttons on purpose now, baiting you. But you fell for it—line, hook, and sinker. “My arabesque isn’t stiff.”

“It is,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Show me again.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you wanna prove me wrong,” Jinx said, flopping dramatically onto the floor with a smirk. “C’mon. I’m here, you’re here. Might as well. Promise I won’t make fun of you this time.”

Something about the way she said it made you pause, your instincts warring with your pride. You weren’t sure if it was the challenge in her tone or the fact that this strange, chaotic girl had somehow made you laugh. You didn’t owe her anything, especially not a performance. But either way, you stepped back into position, adjusting your posture.

“Fine,” you conceded. “But no commentary.”

She zipped her lips and made an exaggerated motion of throwing away the key.

The music started again, and you moved. This time, though, you were aware of Jinx watching you. You expected to feel self-conscious, but instead, you felt… free. Jinx wasn’t judging you—she was just there, soaking it in, her sharp eyes tracking every move.

When the music ended, you glanced over at her. She was sitting cross-legged now, her chin propped on her hands.

“…Well?” you asked, against your better judgment and slightly breathless.

She just stared at you, uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. Then, she nodded. “Not bad, ballerina. Not bad at all.”

“That’s it?”

“What, you want a standing ovation?” Jinx teased, though her tone was softer now. “Okay, fine. It was good. Annoyingly good. Makes me want to build you a little trophy or somethin’. ”

You shook your head, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re a perfectionist,” she countered. “Guess we balance each other out.”

You opened your mouth to argue but found yourself faltering, taking a seat next to her instead and finally allowing yourself a break. “It’s just… everything I’ve worked for.”

She tilted her head, her braids swaying with the movement and her expression softening. “Yeah. I can see that.”

The both of you sat in silence for a moment, the sharp edges of your banter giving way to something quieter, more sincere.

You finally glanced at the spray paint still clutched in her hand, curious despite yourself. “You really think this place is boring?”

Jinx looked back at you, an almost knowing spark in her gaze. “It could use some… color.”

You hesitated, lost in thought. You didn’t know what it was—whether it was the anticipation of seeing your instructor’s look of horror the next morning or the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you were actually beginning to like the blue-haired girl beside you—that prompted you to utter your next words. “Just the back wall,” you finally sighed.

And Jinx’s eyes lit up, her smirk reappearing. “Deal, ballerina.”

A chemical scent filled the studio as she got to work, and you stayed on the floor, watching her paint wild streaks of color and chaos. It wasn’t perfect—far from it.

It was wrong. Out of place.

But there was something oddly mesmerizing about it, too. And somehow, you just couldn’t bring yourself to hate it.

[currently-exsisting]

hello!! could i request jinx with a fem! reader who’s a seamstress and insists on fixing up jinx’s clothes, maybe making her new ones too?

this is such a cute request 🥹 thank you for sending this my way!

jinx x seamstress!fem!reader

~~

"you can't keep walking around with holes in your clothes," you say after observing yet another rip in jinx's immensely torn pants. "it's like you want people to see you don't wear underwear."

"just for you," jinx replies, wiggling her brows. "and besides, no one cares what you look like down here. we ain't no topsiders who are so focused on what's in season or whatever the fuck they talk about."

"yeah, but you deserve good clothes, babe," you say, gesturing her towards you. "clothes that don't have holes in them. and what's the use of having a seamstress for a girlfriend if i can't offer you my services?"

jinx stares at you, her expression unreadable, but you can tell she's hesitating. time and time again, jinx has always worried that you're too good for her. that she's dragging you down by associating yourself with her.

she's a crazy wild card with enough baggage to fill an airship. she's unstable, erratic, and is always a stone throw away from a breakdown. and yet she has you, the sweetest person she's ever met, sticking to her side like glue and offering to mend her clothes.

jinx knows she doesn't deserve this, but you tell her all the time that she does. she deserves this and so much more.

knowing she's not going to reply anytime soon, you snap your fingers and point at her pants.

"take them off," you command, causing jinx's eyes to widen. "take them off now, i'm serious."

jinx blinks, but goes to unbuckle her belt. "not even gonna offer me dinner first?" she tries to joke but her voice's a little shaky. "i'm not wearing underwear by the way."

"shocker," you say, deadpan, before you smile. "gives me something pretty to look at it."

your smile stretches to a grin as you note the sudden blush on jinx's face. you laugh when jinx throws her pants at your face, covering her from view.

"you're disgusting," jinx grumbles, but you tell she's smiling. "fix my pants then, since you're so eager."

"yes, miss," you reply obediently, removing the pants from your face and shamelessly taking in jinx's lower half. then you look at her face and smile softly. "love you, jinxy."

jinx's eyes soften, her expression openly adoring.

"love you too, doll."

[currently-exsisting]

hello!! could i request jinx with a fem! reader who’s a seamstress and insists on fixing up jinx’s clothes, maybe making her new ones too?

this is such a cute request 🥹 thank you for sending this my way!

jinx x seamstress!fem!reader

~~

"you can't keep walking around with holes in your clothes," you say after observing yet another rip in jinx's immensely torn pants. "it's like you want people to see you don't wear underwear."

"just for you," jinx replies, wiggling her brows. "and besides, no one cares what you look like down here. we ain't no topsiders who are so focused on what's in season or whatever the fuck they talk about."

"yeah, but you deserve good clothes, babe," you say, gesturing her towards you. "clothes that don't have holes in them. and what's the use of having a seamstress for a girlfriend if i can't offer you my services?"

jinx stares at you, her expression unreadable, but you can tell she's hesitating. time and time again, jinx has always worried that you're too good for her. that she's dragging you down by associating yourself with her.

she's a crazy wild card with enough baggage to fill an airship. she's unstable, erratic, and is always a stone throw away from a breakdown. and yet she has you, the sweetest person she's ever met, sticking to her side like glue and offering to mend her clothes.

jinx knows she doesn't deserve this, but you tell her all the time that she does. she deserves this and so much more.

knowing she's not going to reply anytime soon, you snap your fingers and point at her pants.

"take them off," you command, causing jinx's eyes to widen. "take them off now, i'm serious."

jinx blinks, but goes to unbuckle her belt. "not even gonna offer me dinner first?" she tries to joke but her voice's a little shaky. "i'm not wearing underwear by the way."

"shocker," you say, deadpan, before you smile. "gives me something pretty to look at it."

your smile stretches to a grin as you note the sudden blush on jinx's face. you laugh when jinx throws her pants at your face, covering her from view.

"you're disgusting," jinx grumbles, but you tell she's smiling. "fix my pants then, since you're so eager."

"yes, miss," you reply obediently, removing the pants from your face and shamelessly taking in jinx's lower half. then you look at her face and smile softly. "love you, jinxy."

jinx's eyes soften, her expression openly adoring.

"love you too, doll."

[currently-exsisting]

Men need to learn to stfu. The world doesn’t revolve around them-egotistical little shits

it's incredible that when a man realizes that the content isn't aimed at him, he starts whining, basically seeing lebicas/bi happy and interrupting besides his own homophobia hidden in the middle of it all. Bitch!!!lesbians have to take over the world soon I can't take it anymore 🫨🫨

[currently-exsisting]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Alchemy and Anarchy . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

(Jinx x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: So we all know Jinx is a genius. Even without school she is able to engineer such high tech things. Making her own bombs, fixing broken things, creating a mechanical arm for Sevika, etc etc. Well what if she runs into the reader who is an alchemist from Piltover who has come to Zaun to get some illegal ingredients for her experiments. But their first encounter isn’t a particularly pleasant one… nor is their second or even third. One day Jinx realizes she hasn’t seen the reader in a while and is bored- definitely not missing the banter she would have with reader- so Jinx sneaks up to topside only to find reader isn’t home- or anywhere for that matter.

Warnings: minor talk of sedatives, explosion, mentions of deadly material (bombs, potions, poisonous plants, etc). lmk if there's anything I missed!

Note: This is my first Jinx fic so please be nice! The reader identifies as a female and she/her pronouns will be used. Also, this is part 1 of a multipart series (I’m thinking between 3-5 parts but we’ll see how it goes). 

Word count: 1.6K

You were absolutely exhausted by the mundane, lackluster lectures of the Piltover Academy’s alchemical department. The professors had a knack for making you study for hours just to grasp the most basic concepts in the most roundabout way. On top of that, your time in the actual lab was painfully sparse. When you finally got lab access—once every two weeks—the experiments were excruciatingly slow and yielded results so obvious that they felt like an insult to your intelligence. Sitting through those endless three-hour lectures, you often questioned why you had chosen this field in the first place.

That frustration was the catalyst for your decision to take matters into your own hands. You found an abandoned classroom and transformed it into your personal lab, a space where you could tinker with your own concoctions, free from the constant scrutiny and prying eyes of the professors. This turned out to be one of the best decisions you’d made since coming to the academy. Your independent research allowed you to take scientific liberties that were otherwise forbidden. At first, you limited yourself to ransacking the chemical cabinets in the student labs, careful not to disturb the order of the vials or take more than you could conceal. But even the academy’s supplies soon proved too rudimentary for the ambitious experiments you wanted to pursue.

Potions that erupted into bursts of flame with just a pinch of powder, sedatives potent enough to render a person unconscious within seconds, and vials of liquid smoke that blanketed entire rooms in seconds—these were the kinds of alchemical creations you aspired to make. But the university wasn’t equipped to support your level of innovation. So, you made the decision to venture into the Undercity.

Every student at Piltover Academy had heard the cautionary tale of Jayce Talis. The former student had sourced materials for his experiments from the Undercity and paid the price—expelled for his illegal activities, despite his so-called “good” intentions. His story was the kind parents used to scare their children into obedience. But you weren’t Jayce. You had no intention of getting caught.

You packed your bags and threw on some ragged, worn-down clothes in hopes of not standing out in the undercity. As you stepped off the lift and into Zaun, however, you realized how naive you had been. To be a Zaunite wasn’t the clothes or the avoidance of eye contact- the undercity had imprinted itself on the very souls of its citizens. It was evident in how they held themselves, always with an air of caution and skepticism, everyone around you had been living in the closest place to hell and it was damn clear to see that there was no way you were fitting in.

Yet, you still attempted to, just wanting to get your business finished and head back to your lab. You were itching to complete this potion meant to cause temporary blindness to those who breathed in its fumes. The final chemical you needed was sold in a small shop at the back end of an ally in Zaun. How did you hear of this secret location? Let’s just say some professors, frustrated by the academy's limited chemical stock, had been less discreet in their private grumblings—and you knew how to listen. 

Keeping your head low and your heart pounding like a drum, you navigated the narrow, dimly lit alleyways until you reached the shop. By some miracle, you managed to purchase the outrageously overpriced chemical without incident. Relieved, you thought the hardest part was over. Now, all you had to do was retrace your steps to the lift and head back home. It seemed simple enough. The shopkeeper had been stingy, but the Undercity itself wasn’t as terrifying as you’d imagined. Less than ideal, sure, but manageable. Desperate times called for desperate measures, after all.

Lost in your thoughts, your mind wandered to the experiments waiting for you back at your lab. You were so preoccupied that you didn’t notice where you were going. Without realizing it, you walked straight into something very sturdy. 

Looking up, you saw the figure turn around, long blue braids swaying as her sharp pink eyes locked onto yours. “Hey! Watch where you’re going, asshat!” she snapped, her voice brimming with annoyance. Clearly, she’d had enough, and you were just the unfortunate straw that broke the camel’s back.

You attempt stuttering out an apology, but you too were caught off guard by the interaction, “oh- uh sorry- my bad.” You keep your head down and try to maneuver your way around her. But she was faster, sidestepping to block your path.

“Well, well, well you’re not from around here are you?” she said, her tone laced with suspicion. Shit. She found you out. Was it that obvious? She leaned forward slightly, arms tucked behind her back as she assessed you. “Soooo… whatcha doing here?”

Realizing there was no way out of this, you decided to meet her gaze. “Nothing much, just on an errand for, uh… deadly ingredients.” You said this with such a deadpan expression that the blue-haired girl took a moment to process what you said and then laughed. She laughed in your face. You were so over this city. The disgusting streets, the terrifying atmosphere, and now the crazy people. You shook your head and tried to go on your way back to Piltover, back to your cozy lab- to finally continue your experiments. Shaking your head, you tried to sidestep her again. “Whatever. I’ve got stuff to do,” you muttered, heading for the lift.

“Well shit toots, you won’t find anything deadly in some plants and dirt,” she called after you. 

“If you want deadly, I’ll show you deadly.” You stop at her words but by the time you’re halfway turned back around to face her, she had pulled out one of her bombs and disengaged it. She nonchalantly tosses the bomb off to her right. The explosion sent a rush of heat and wind that caused her long blue braids to whip dramatically in the air.

“Oh my gods, what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed?” Your eyes were wide open in shock and you clutched your bags with your ingredients close to your chest. 

She shrugged, a smirk curling at the corner of her lips. “Relax. If I wanted to get you killed, you’d already be dead.”

You stared at her, dumbfounded. This girl was completely insane. “You call that deadly?” you said, exasperated. “That’s just… chaotic and uncontrolled! Chemicals can be deadly and precise. You can get them to do different things—different kinds of deadly.”

Her smirk turned into a pout, her entire posture slumping as she groaned. “Ugh, that’s so boringggg. Deadly is deadly, there’s nothing faster or funner than bombs.”

“First of all,  “funner” is not a word.” She rolled her eyes at your correction, but you couldn’t help the smirk tugging at your lips. The absurdity of arguing with someone so casually dangerous was almost entertaining, and you found yourself wondering if she always defended her bombs with such childlike stubbornness. “Secondly, potions are much more controllable, can you sedate someone with your bombs? I don’t think so.” you put your hand on your hips and gazed at her in a judgmental manner. She could insult you all she wanted but she wasn’t going to say anything bad about your life’s work.

She raised an eyebrow, her pink eyes gleaming with mischief.  “Why would you bother with “sedating” when you can just knock ‘em out cold with one of these?” She patted the satchel slung over her shoulder, the sound of clinking metal confirming it was loaded with explosives.

You roll your eyes. “Right, because bludgeoning someone with a bomb is so subtle. If you need to get out of a situation quietly, my potions are better. Or, do you enjoy being loud and drawing attention to yourself all the time?”

“Yeah, well duh. Subtle is boring. Loud is exciting! All those plants and concoctions, it’s all boring nerd shit.” Her blue braids swayed to one side as she tilted her head, to edge you one. She looked almost like a puppy. Almost-puppies aren’t as bothersome or volatile as this Zaunite was.

You noticed your shadow growing longer as the sun began to set and decided that your argument should be saved for another day on account of your safety. If the undercity was this hectic during the day, you didn’t want to stay around and discover what the nightlife entailed. “One day I’ll show you how awesome this “nerd shit” really is.” 

The blue-haired girl smirked at your words, clearly not taking you seriously. “Pfft. Sure, nerd. Maybe one day you’ll grow a spine and ditch those snooze-fest potions for something with a bang.”

You sighed, already regretting engaging her this much. The faint flicker of street lights turning on further contorted the shadows, the chaotic streets taking on an even more ominous feel.

“Yeah, well, I’m not sticking around here to debate with someone who thinks explosions solve everything.” You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, carefully avoiding her gaze. “Enjoy your bombs, loudmouth.”

She scoffed, leaning against the wall with a smug expression. “Enjoy your boring potions, nerd. Do yourself a favor and try not to spill anything and melt your face off.”

Without another word, you turned and walked away, forcing yourself to focus on retracing your steps. The weight of her gaze lingered on your back, but you didn’t look back. There was no way you’d let her see how much she’d gotten under your skin.

[currently-exsisting]

jinx x f!reader christmas special

💙 I know Christmas is over but I couldn't post this before but here it is even though it's a little - very - late.

It was Christmas Eve and you were lying on the edge of Caitlyn's bed with your girlfriend Jinx between your legs. She was kneeling on the floor, your legs spread for her as she ate you out like you were her main meal, which you were. How did you get into that position? Well...

Vi had invited the two of you to her and Caitlyn's house for Christmas dinner. She was trying very hard to get her sister and Caitlyn to work out their differences so that you could all live together as a family. She knew, just like you did, that it wouldn't be easy, but she wasn't going to give up on it so easily.

Jinx on the other hand didn't make the slightest effort to get along with Cait. She wouldn't have accepted Vi's invitation if it weren't for you. She knew you loved Christmas and deserved to have a real Christmas at least once in your life. With plenty of food, presents, decorations, and a real Christmas tree, something you couldn't have in Zaun, and never had.

Earlier you told Jinx that you had to sort out some things in Zaun with Sevika and that made her suspicious, but for the first time she didn't follow you like she always did whenever you went out without her, it wasn't that she didn't trust you, she just didn't trust others. The truth was, you had gone to Piltover alone and stolen a dress from a fancy store that you had seen the other day and planned to wear it to impress your girlfriend. The dress was blue, the same color as Jinx's hair, it was low-cut and long with a slit on the side of the leg that went up almost to your crotch. A scandal of lust and sensuality.

You had arranged to meet her at Vi's at 7:00 pm and of course she was punctual and arrived there at the appointed time. She barely greeted Vi, Cait and the other people present, she asked for you and Vi told her that you were in the guest room on the second floor of the house. Jinx used the shimmer to get to the second floor as quickly as possible and in less than half a second there she was.

She came across you in the middle of the hallway and immediately her magenta eyes devoured you in your provocative and sensual blue dress. This wasn't how you had planned it, but nothing could have been better than what happened next.

The next moment you were against a wall and Jinx was pinning you to it, her hands on each side of your head, framing you. She tilted her head to the side and pulled her lips into a smile - but without showing her teeth - manic and at the same time shameless. Then she took her right hand on your cheeks and squeezed a little, not too hard.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her magenta eyes shining into yours. Your pussy was already aching for her and you felt a wet spot in your panties. “I asked bunny,” she squeezed your face a little tighter this time. “I just… wanted to wear a blue dress like your hair,” she released your face and ran her thumb over your lips as you spoke, “do you like it baby?” you asked in a sultry voice.

Before answering, she pressed your body against hers, putting her head in your neck and biting hard on your sensitive spot, making you gasp. “If I like my hot girlfriend wearing a fucking blue dress? Ha! I’m going to fuck you toots, I’m going to eat you in that dress,” she said in between the kisses and bites she was leaving on your already bruised and marked neck. She got closer to your ear and bit your earlobe, “I’m going to eat you, babe, like I need it to survive.”

As she said that, Jinx grabbed your leg and lifted it up to her waist. You wrapped your leg around hers and once again she devoured the soft skin of your neck while squeezing your thigh. “Baby, someone might see us,” you said between sighs. She ignored what you said and continued sucking and biting your neck harder and harder, not caring about the bruises that formed on your skin.

She brought her left hand to your left tits and began to squeeze it under the fabric. You moaned softly, the pain between your legs bothering you more and more. She moved the hand that was squeezing your thigh up to your crotch and then to the wet spot on your panties. “Hm… so wet, love, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Things definitely didn’t go as planned, the plan was to tease your blue haired girlfriend until midnight and then only after that would you let her do anything to you, but you were too turned on to stop. You needed her and you needed her now. “Baby p-please,” you gasped as she began to massage your swollen clit under the fabric of your soaked panties.

“Please what toots? Tell me,” she said, squeezing your clit as she licked a line from your neck to your jaw. “Please fuck me baby, pretty please,” you begged, whimpering. That's when Jinx took you to a random room - which coincidentally was Cait and Vi's - and threw you on the bed, opening your legs and crouching down between them, and that's exactly how you got to the state you're in now.

You had your hand under your mouth to muffle your continuous moans while the other grabbed the sheets. Your girlfriend was eating you out while fucking you with three of her fingers. The wet sounds of her lips and fingers in your pussy mixed with your muffled moans and together it was like an orchestra to her ears.

“Mmm… God you’re so delicious toots, I love you, I love eating your pussy, I love the way you taste, so fucking sweet and perfect”, she said and then sucked your clit and used the shimmer to speed up the pace of her fingers inside you even more. This made you bite your lower lip hard to keep from moaning too loudly, you tighten your hand under your mouth which hurt.

“Fuck I swear to god I'm going to cum inside you, I'm going to stain you babe.” And saying that, Jinx removed her fingers from inside you and stuck them inside your pants and then she started to fuck herself. You grunted at the lack of her fingers, but moaned when you felt her tongue entering your abused hole. “Mmm… fuck,” she moaned against your pussy as she masturbated.

Soon she came on her fingers and immediately she pulled them out - coated with her cum - from inside herself and inserted them inside your pussy again covering you with her cum. She was dirty, your girlfriend was dirty, but you loved that dirt and it was fucking hot. “Aaah… fuck… you’re squeezing my fingers toots, fuck.” She went back to licking and sucking your burning clitoris and sped up her fingers, curling them inside you and hitting that spongy, delicious spot.

Your legs started to shake and you started to squirm, you grabbed your girlfriend's strands of blue hair - now very short - and you couldn't hold back your moans any longer, you took your hands off your mouth and grabbed the sheet, letting your moans come out very audibly. “Babe I…oh…I’m almost…oh fuck”, you tried to tell her, but before you could form the words, your girlfriend hit all the right spots inside you again and kept slamming her fingers there while still devouring your clit. It was already hurting, but she wouldn’t stop until you came and you were almost there and she knew it.

“I know sugar, come for me baby girl, be a good girl and cover my fingers with your sweet fucking juice,” she said as she still pumped her fingers into you at a relentless speed driven by the shimmer. Jinx swirled her tongue around your clit and then sucked on it as she curled her fingers hitting your sensitive spot once more and then your eyes rolled back and everything went white, you came hard on her fingers and lips.

She removed her fingers from inside your pussy and stuck her tongue in their place, drinking all the juice that fell from inside your destroyed and fucked hole. Your head hit back on the mattress as your body writhed uncontrollably and you bit the palm of your hand to keep from screaming.

“Mmm… you taste like fucking heaven baby, you’re amazing.” Jinx lifted her head and you could see your juices running down her chin and how she licked her lips and fingers as if they were covered in chocolate and you almost came again just from the sight. “Mmmm, it feels so good fuck,” she moaned.

Just as you were calming down from your high, Jinx buried herself between your legs once more and began kissing and licking your red, ruined pussy. You simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Baby, please stop I can’t take it anymore,” you whimpered, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Shh, I know you can toots, I need more, I want to eat you all night… god I’m addicted to this.”

You moaned as she began to tease your clit with her tongue again and you grabbed her hair making her moan against your pussy. Jinx slipped a finger inside you with ease and she moaned at the feeling of your walls swallowing her. She inserted a second finger and curled them, hitting the right spot again as she sucked on your clit. “Oh my god Jinx,” you moaned, your body writhing. It was all getting too much and you tried to close your legs, “keep your fucking legs open for me”, Jinx kept your leg open holding it tightly.

She slowed the pace of her skilled fingers and began to fuck you slowly and deeply, curling them every time she hit the spongy spot inside you, her mouth never leaving your clit. “Oh… mmm… Jinx,” you moaned, closing your eyes as your body twitched involuntarily. You were close to cumming for the second time, but the sound of the bedroom door opening broke the moment.

“POWDER!”, it was Vi. She practically screamed at the sight of the two of you. You felt your face flush with embarrassment and quickly got up from the bed, your wobbly legs made you stumble and you held on to Jinx, while you looked for your panties.

“It’s Jinx, how many times do I have to tell you?”, she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hands. Vi shook her head in disbelief at what she had just witnessed and turned her back to you placing her hands on her hips. “I don’t believe this, seriously? You could have chosen another room to do this in at least.” You looked around and realized it was Cait and Vi’s room and then looked back at Jinx, who had her arms crossed and a frown on her face. “You should have knocked on the door, I would have made my girl cum again if you hadn’t come in like that.”

“JINX!”, it was your turn to scream her name. “What’s wrong baby? You know it’s true, you were moaning my name”. Was she teasing or did she just have no filter? You would never know, but you were embarrassed, so embarrassed. How could you face Vi after being caught by her while her sister fucked you in her bed? “Stop it”, you whispered and Jinx shrugged.

Jinx wrapped her arm around your waist, “we’ll finish this later, love,” she winked at you and bit her lip as she devoured you with her eyes. That would have turned you on, but you were too embarrassed for that. You and Jinx walked past Vi, who looked angry but also embarrassed. “I think you better change the sheets, because well… you know,” she gave one of her wicked laughs and led you out of the room. But before the two of you could go down to dinner, Vi grabbed Jinx’s arm. “No tricks tonight, you hear me?”

Jinx stretched her lips in a dubious smile, “relax sis, it’s Christmas Eve…”

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

[currently-exsisting]

jinx x f!reader christmas special

💙 I know Christmas is over but I couldn't post this before but here it is even though it's a little - very - late.

It was Christmas Eve and you were lying on the edge of Caitlyn's bed with your girlfriend Jinx between your legs. She was kneeling on the floor, your legs spread for her as she ate you out like you were her main meal, which you were. How did you get into that position? Well...

Vi had invited the two of you to her and Caitlyn's house for Christmas dinner. She was trying very hard to get her sister and Caitlyn to work out their differences so that you could all live together as a family. She knew, just like you did, that it wouldn't be easy, but she wasn't going to give up on it so easily.

Jinx on the other hand didn't make the slightest effort to get along with Cait. She wouldn't have accepted Vi's invitation if it weren't for you. She knew you loved Christmas and deserved to have a real Christmas at least once in your life. With plenty of food, presents, decorations, and a real Christmas tree, something you couldn't have in Zaun, and never had.

Earlier you told Jinx that you had to sort out some things in Zaun with Sevika and that made her suspicious, but for the first time she didn't follow you like she always did whenever you went out without her, it wasn't that she didn't trust you, she just didn't trust others. The truth was, you had gone to Piltover alone and stolen a dress from a fancy store that you had seen the other day and planned to wear it to impress your girlfriend. The dress was blue, the same color as Jinx's hair, it was low-cut and long with a slit on the side of the leg that went up almost to your crotch. A scandal of lust and sensuality.

You had arranged to meet her at Vi's at 7:00 pm and of course she was punctual and arrived there at the appointed time. She barely greeted Vi, Cait and the other people present, she asked for you and Vi told her that you were in the guest room on the second floor of the house. Jinx used the shimmer to get to the second floor as quickly as possible and in less than half a second there she was.

She came across you in the middle of the hallway and immediately her magenta eyes devoured you in your provocative and sensual blue dress. This wasn't how you had planned it, but nothing could have been better than what happened next.

The next moment you were against a wall and Jinx was pinning you to it, her hands on each side of your head, framing you. She tilted her head to the side and pulled her lips into a smile - but without showing her teeth - manic and at the same time shameless. Then she took her right hand on your cheeks and squeezed a little, not too hard.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her magenta eyes shining into yours. Your pussy was already aching for her and you felt a wet spot in your panties. “I asked bunny,” she squeezed your face a little tighter this time. “I just… wanted to wear a blue dress like your hair,” she released your face and ran her thumb over your lips as you spoke, “do you like it baby?” you asked in a sultry voice.

Before answering, she pressed your body against hers, putting her head in your neck and biting hard on your sensitive spot, making you gasp. “If I like my hot girlfriend wearing a fucking blue dress? Ha! I’m going to fuck you toots, I’m going to eat you in that dress,” she said in between the kisses and bites she was leaving on your already bruised and marked neck. She got closer to your ear and bit your earlobe, “I’m going to eat you, babe, like I need it to survive.”

As she said that, Jinx grabbed your leg and lifted it up to her waist. You wrapped your leg around hers and once again she devoured the soft skin of your neck while squeezing your thigh. “Baby, someone might see us,” you said between sighs. She ignored what you said and continued sucking and biting your neck harder and harder, not caring about the bruises that formed on your skin.

She brought her left hand to your left tits and began to squeeze it under the fabric. You moaned softly, the pain between your legs bothering you more and more. She moved the hand that was squeezing your thigh up to your crotch and then to the wet spot on your panties. “Hm… so wet, love, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Things definitely didn’t go as planned, the plan was to tease your blue haired girlfriend until midnight and then only after that would you let her do anything to you, but you were too turned on to stop. You needed her and you needed her now. “Baby p-please,” you gasped as she began to massage your swollen clit under the fabric of your soaked panties.

“Please what toots? Tell me,” she said, squeezing your clit as she licked a line from your neck to your jaw. “Please fuck me baby, pretty please,” you begged, whimpering. That's when Jinx took you to a random room - which coincidentally was Cait and Vi's - and threw you on the bed, opening your legs and crouching down between them, and that's exactly how you got to the state you're in now.

You had your hand under your mouth to muffle your continuous moans while the other grabbed the sheets. Your girlfriend was eating you out while fucking you with three of her fingers. The wet sounds of her lips and fingers in your pussy mixed with your muffled moans and together it was like an orchestra to her ears.

“Mmm… God you’re so delicious toots, I love you, I love eating your pussy, I love the way you taste, so fucking sweet and perfect”, she said and then sucked your clit and used the shimmer to speed up the pace of her fingers inside you even more. This made you bite your lower lip hard to keep from moaning too loudly, you tighten your hand under your mouth which hurt.

“Fuck I swear to god I'm going to cum inside you, I'm going to stain you babe.” And saying that, Jinx removed her fingers from inside you and stuck them inside your pants and then she started to fuck herself. You grunted at the lack of her fingers, but moaned when you felt her tongue entering your abused hole. “Mmm… fuck,” she moaned against your pussy as she masturbated.

Soon she came on her fingers and immediately she pulled them out - coated with her cum - from inside herself and inserted them inside your pussy again covering you with her cum. She was dirty, your girlfriend was dirty, but you loved that dirt and it was fucking hot. “Aaah… fuck… you’re squeezing my fingers toots, fuck.” She went back to licking and sucking your burning clitoris and sped up her fingers, curling them inside you and hitting that spongy, delicious spot.

Your legs started to shake and you started to squirm, you grabbed your girlfriend's strands of blue hair - now very short - and you couldn't hold back your moans any longer, you took your hands off your mouth and grabbed the sheet, letting your moans come out very audibly. “Babe I…oh…I’m almost…oh fuck”, you tried to tell her, but before you could form the words, your girlfriend hit all the right spots inside you again and kept slamming her fingers there while still devouring your clit. It was already hurting, but she wouldn’t stop until you came and you were almost there and she knew it.

“I know sugar, come for me baby girl, be a good girl and cover my fingers with your sweet fucking juice,” she said as she still pumped her fingers into you at a relentless speed driven by the shimmer. Jinx swirled her tongue around your clit and then sucked on it as she curled her fingers hitting your sensitive spot once more and then your eyes rolled back and everything went white, you came hard on her fingers and lips.

She removed her fingers from inside your pussy and stuck her tongue in their place, drinking all the juice that fell from inside your destroyed and fucked hole. Your head hit back on the mattress as your body writhed uncontrollably and you bit the palm of your hand to keep from screaming.

“Mmm… you taste like fucking heaven baby, you’re amazing.” Jinx lifted her head and you could see your juices running down her chin and how she licked her lips and fingers as if they were covered in chocolate and you almost came again just from the sight. “Mmmm, it feels so good fuck,” she moaned.

Just as you were calming down from your high, Jinx buried herself between your legs once more and began kissing and licking your red, ruined pussy. You simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Baby, please stop I can’t take it anymore,” you whimpered, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Shh, I know you can toots, I need more, I want to eat you all night… god I’m addicted to this.”

You moaned as she began to tease your clit with her tongue again and you grabbed her hair making her moan against your pussy. Jinx slipped a finger inside you with ease and she moaned at the feeling of your walls swallowing her. She inserted a second finger and curled them, hitting the right spot again as she sucked on your clit. “Oh my god Jinx,” you moaned, your body writhing. It was all getting too much and you tried to close your legs, “keep your fucking legs open for me”, Jinx kept your leg open holding it tightly.

She slowed the pace of her skilled fingers and began to fuck you slowly and deeply, curling them every time she hit the spongy spot inside you, her mouth never leaving your clit. “Oh… mmm… Jinx,” you moaned, closing your eyes as your body twitched involuntarily. You were close to cumming for the second time, but the sound of the bedroom door opening broke the moment.

“POWDER!”, it was Vi. She practically screamed at the sight of the two of you. You felt your face flush with embarrassment and quickly got up from the bed, your wobbly legs made you stumble and you held on to Jinx, while you looked for your panties.

“It’s Jinx, how many times do I have to tell you?”, she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hands. Vi shook her head in disbelief at what she had just witnessed and turned her back to you placing her hands on her hips. “I don’t believe this, seriously? You could have chosen another room to do this in at least.” You looked around and realized it was Cait and Vi’s room and then looked back at Jinx, who had her arms crossed and a frown on her face. “You should have knocked on the door, I would have made my girl cum again if you hadn’t come in like that.”

“JINX!”, it was your turn to scream her name. “What’s wrong baby? You know it’s true, you were moaning my name”. Was she teasing or did she just have no filter? You would never know, but you were embarrassed, so embarrassed. How could you face Vi after being caught by her while her sister fucked you in her bed? “Stop it”, you whispered and Jinx shrugged.

Jinx wrapped her arm around your waist, “we’ll finish this later, love,” she winked at you and bit her lip as she devoured you with her eyes. That would have turned you on, but you were too embarrassed for that. You and Jinx walked past Vi, who looked angry but also embarrassed. “I think you better change the sheets, because well… you know,” she gave one of her wicked laughs and led you out of the room. But before the two of you could go down to dinner, Vi grabbed Jinx’s arm. “No tricks tonight, you hear me?”

Jinx stretched her lips in a dubious smile, “relax sis, it’s Christmas Eve…”

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

[currently-exsisting]

You're the girl that I want.

Stalker!jinx x fem!reader

summary: jinx sees a pretty girl walking down the streets of zaun one day, she decides then that she's going to have you no matter what it takes.

warnings: stalking, kinda perv!jinx (sorry...) voyeurism, mentions masturbation, dom!jinx, bondage, wlw makeout sesh you're welcome, fingering (r!receiving), clit play, degradation, dumbification, choking, dirty talk, reader is lowkey (highkey) just as freaky as jinx

genre: smut

a/n: this kinda has a weird plot, i've never written in this style so bare with me. the smut also isn't my best i wrote it in a rush but either way, i hope you all enjoy 💋

not proofread

Your boots clicked against the wet ground of Zaun as you made your way home after your night shift at The Last Drop. The streets were pretty much empty, only littered with the homeless and drunks.

Footsteps could be heard faintly behind you but you paid no mind to it, figuring it just to be someone else taking the same route as you.

Jinx saw you leaving the bar as she was also on her own way home. Her eyes were set on you the moment she saw your pretty face, and the tight outfit that hugged your body just right.

She wanted you, and instead of walking up to you like a normal person, she decided she was going to follow you home— to make sure you got there safe, of course. No other reason.

♡

A deep sigh echoed throughout the room as you sunk into the warmth of your bath. Your head leaned against the back of the tub, eyes closing gently as you let your stress just leave your body. After, you wrapped yourself in a towel and grabbed your dirty clothes from the floor.

You looked through your dresser in just your underwear, back free as you looked for a shirt. The sound of a stick cracking outside your window caught your attention instead, but as you turned your head, there was nothing there. Must've been an animal.

Turning back to your dresser, you come to realize that all of your sleep shirts were dirty. "Fuck." You sighed under your breath. Exhausted, you just decided to go to bed how you were.

°○°○

Days later, you're back in your bed, fast asleep after the rough shift you had tonight.

Your blanket rested at your hips, moonlight peeking through your window and casting over your chest.

Jinx was mesmerized, eyes set on you. She's just making sure you're safe, people are crazy. She can't risk anything happening to her pretty girl.

She stared at the way your breasts sat so beautifully in your small tank, how peaceful you looked, the way your hand rested on your lower stomach.

You shuffled in your sleep, face scrunching softly. Jinx raised an eyebrow as she watched your shuffling continue, until your eyes fluttered open. She watched in a trance from her place in one of the bushes by your window as your hand moved the blanket.

Your black panties hugged your hips, your top stopping right above your belly button, giving her the perfect view of your body.

One hand traveled lower as the other began to tease one of your nipples through your shirt.

Your fingers traced over your clothed slit slowly as you tucked your lip between your teeth. Jinx's eyes were set on that hand specifically, wishing it was hers as she watched it slip underneath the material.

♡

It had been a month.

Jinx hadn't made any moves, she just followed, and watched. This time though, things were different. She got in.

While you were taking your nightly bath, she snuck in through your window.

Now, she's peeking through the crack of the door, scanning over you as you rest your head against the tub. She watches again as your hand slips between your thighs.

By the time you get out, she's back outside your window without a trace.

°○°○

A couple days pass and this has now become Jinx's routine. Sneak in, sneak out. This time, she stayed.

So, to your surprise when you leave the bathroom in only a towel to find a girl sitting in the corner of your room, you don't know whether to scream or run. She stares at you intensely, gaze solely locked on you.

You open your mouth to scream, but in a pink flash she's behind you with her hand wrapped around your mouth.

"Shh, pretty baby. Don't be scared, I'm not gonna hurt you." Jinx spoke softly in your ear, trying to calm you down.

You relax a bit but still tremble against her front, fear coursing through you. Jinx removes her hand slowly, and when she's confident you won't scream she rests her hands on your waist.

"W-what are you- who are you?" You ask with a shaky voice, you think you've seen her somewhere before just not sure where. Jinx giggles darkly as she brushes hair away from your neck with her nose. "Don't worry about that, just wanna play with ya, toots." She whispers before peppering kisses along your neck.

Your body betrays your minds fight to not break and cave to how good her lips feel against your skin when she gently nibbles on your sensitive spot, and its been so long since you've had someone to do this for you. You gasp at the feeling, eyes fluttering as if you're in some daze and you don't have a stranger in your house doing this to you.

The daze wears off, and you gain some composure again as you scream. "Get away from me!" Trying to get out of her strong grip. "Fuckin' stay still." She groans into your neck before gripping it with her hand, tight enough to make your head feel dizzy.

"Be a good girl f'me and stay still, or else I'll have to hurt you— and neither of us want that, do we?" Jinx makes her voice sound so sweet, almost innocent, it almost has you believing her. "You're— You're crazy!" You try squirming again, instantly regretting it when her grip tightens around your throat, and you can't get a single noise out.

Jinx's eyes are angry. "What did I say?" She growls in your ear, cheek pressed against yours.

Your eyes flutter closed, and it doesn't go unnoticed when your thighs absent-mindedly squeeze together on their own. Jinx giggles again, using one of the hands on your waist to grab one of your thighs, spreading you open. You cave, letting her. You know it's crazy, but for some reason you don't care.

"Oh, I'm gonna have so much fun with you."

♡

You haven't seen her since, she left after that. It had been two weeks, and to be honest, you think you missed it.

But, it was the most 'exciting' thing that had happened to you in months. You missed the adrenaline rush. You missed the fear the she rose in you. You missed how good she made you feel while barely doing anything. How she smelled. The way her hands gripped your throat. The way she looked at you like you were the prettiest thing she'd ever seen.

You knew it was insane, but you wanted it back. So you waited, content that you wouldn't freak out again, but she didn't come back. Not for months. You still had moments where you felt someone watching you. The hairs that stood up on the back of your neck when you were taking a bath, but when you turned around there was no one there.

So, you stopped waiting. You decided, as crazy as it was, you would look for her.

You spent a week asking around if anyone's seen a girl with bright blue braids and pink eyes, and even at the mention, people would go wide-eyed and not give you an answer.

That was until you started asking at work, word got to Sevika, so word got to Jinx.

You got home that night, sighing as you threw your bags on your bed. Taking your hair down, you look in the bathroom mirror, jumping when you saw her reflection. You spun around quickly, heart thumping in your chest, just like you wanted.

"Heard someone's been asking for me. Miss me already, toots?" Jinx teases, slowly sauntering towards you. She stops at your feet, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your chest heaves as your breathing gets quicker and heavier, the adrenaline coursing through you all over again. You look up at her, eyes big and your lips parted. "You look so pretty when you're scared, baby." She coos, hand gripping your jaw.

Jinx stares down at you, tilting her head in curiosity. "Now why was the one screaming for me to get away, looking for me?" Her eyes have a glint of mischief in them as she inches closer.

She glances to your lips once before looking back to your eyes. You involuntarily follow, eyes gazing at her pretty pink lips for a second too long. "Oh, I see." Jinx smirks before lifting your chin up and leaning in, lips softly brushing against yours.

You were the one who closed the gap, pressing your lips against hers desperately. Your hands grasp the back of her head, pulling her closer. Jinx's hands grip your waist as she returns the kiss, gently biting your bottom lip. You moan softly, pulling back with dilated pupils and heavy breaths.

Another kiss is placed on her again, pushing her out of the bathroom as you do.

She pulls your shirt off in the process, and unclasps your bra so easily it's almost concerning.

She twists, shoves your bags off the bed and pushes you down on the mattress. Her eyes are wide, and you swear they're glowing. She grins before crawling up to hover over you, meeting you in another kiss.

Your lips part in a gasp, giving her an opening to slip her tongue in and she takes it. You moan into the kiss again, placing your hands on her back. Your heart is racing again, and your head feels dizzy from the rush of it all. This is insane.

She bites your bottom lip again and your hips buck against hers. She pulls back slowly, a small string of saliva connecting you together. Your eyes are heavy as you look up at her again. She smirks, hands tracing down your stomach before she stops at your hips. She mumbles something incoherently, unbuttoning your jeans for an unexpected second time now.

Your breathing is quick, and your chest moves up and down with each breath. Jinx looks up, noticing the soft pants from your direction. "I can hear you breathing. Nervous, baby?" She tilts her head, studying you. You nod slowly, eyes never leaving hers.

Jinx pouts as she slips her hand into your pants, slowly cirling over your panties. "Poor baby, don't be scared. You know I won't hurt you, unless you make me." Her eyes stare into yours, almost promising her previous words. You swallow hard, nodding as you try not to make any noise.

Jinx leans forward to kiss up your stomach as her hand slips under your panties, met with your soaked cunt. She giggles, but doesn't say anything. Your heart is beating so fast she can hear it.

Kisses trace up your skin, stopping right between your breasts. Her eyes are locked on you as she sucks a nipple between her lips. A soft whine leaves from your parted lips as you watch, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

Teeth scrape across your sensitive nipple and you hiss, hips squirming. "Movin' too much." Jinx groans, sitting up between your legs as she reaches in your nightstand, pulling out a rope and handcuffs.

You look at her confused, knowing they're not yours. She giggles as she shrugs. "Left these here last time after you fell asleep, incase I ever needed them." She says it so casually it makes you feel like your heads spinning.

Before you know it, your wrists are handcuffed and placed above your head, and you're stripped of your pants with your ankles tight to either bed post. If you were nervous before, you're definitely terrified now. You hadn't expected this at all, but the burn of the rope against your skin and the way she's eyeing you down sends a rush of excitement to your pussy.

Currently, jinx is rested between your legs, eyes bearing into yours as she sucks on your thighs. She's dangerously close to your core, ghosting over it as she switches between thighs. She's teasing now, wanting to see how far she can push you.

Finally, you break. You desperately try to thrust your hips towards her but fail, completely stuck in your position. That realization sends a ping of worry through you, but it's quickly forgotten about when her middle finger swipes through your cunt, collecting the wetness by your entrance before she drags it up towards your clit. Jinx's finger rubs tight, quick circles against your sensitive bud, relishing in your whines and pleas for more.

Completely lost in the feeling, it catches you off guard when she spits on your clit before slowly rubbing it in, watching the way it mixes with your arousal. Your lips part in a soft gasp. "Dirty girl, letting me touch you like this and you don't even know me." Jinx murmers, lips kissing your thigh again as she watches the way your body reacts to her rubs and occasional pinches.

Minutes pass and you're thrashing, trying anything to get her to finally fuck you. Your whines and whimpers do nothing but boost her ego as you pathetically beg for her, mind going dumb as you crave more.

"P-please baby.. need more." You mewl, squirming as she giggles against the inside of your thigh, middle finger still restlessly rubbing at your clit. At this point your cunt is leaking onto the sheets, a wet patch of your arousal painted right below you. "Shhh. Take what I give you, slut." She bites down on your thigh, leaving a mark.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, so close yet so far to being able to reach that edge. "Please, I need you inside of me." It comes out in a whimper, and you can't even bring yourself to be embarrassed anymore. Jinx finally moves her hand lower, teasingly circling your entrance with two fingers.

"Want me here, hm?" She looks up at you, a playful look in her eyes as she pushes in for a split second before pulling back out. "Answer me." Jinx's voice is dark, and her touch becomes harsher. "Ye— yes. Please?"

Jinx can't help it. It's not her fault you look so cute, all soaked and vulnerable, completely at her mercy. She wants to draw this moment out for as long as she can, and she knows the moment her fingers slip inside of you and bring you to that peak, it's over.

Either way, she obliges, deciding that the sounds of your pleasure are much better than your pathetic ones of desperation. Jinx's fingers pump into you slowly, and she swears she could've came right then and there at the loud moan she just ripped from you. She wanted more of those.

Her fingers pump into you faster, filling you up and stretching you out. She's mesmerized by the way your walls suck her fingers back in every time she goes to pull her fingers out a little. "You're practically swallowing me up, toots! Has it really been that long since you've been properly fucked?" She teases, glancing up to see the look on your face.

Your eyes are lidded, brows softly furrowed in pleasure, jaw slacked as quiet whines leave your lips, and you're staring right back at her.

Jinx curls her fingers, pressing against that spot that makes you feel lightheaded. She pulls another loud moan from you, only this time she got it while you staring into her eyes.

That had Jinx hooked.

She repeatedly curled her fingers into that spot, all while thrusting her fingers into you at a speed you'd never experienced before. Your eyelids begin to flutter, taking your attention away from her. "Look at me or I'll stop." Her tone is firm, yet her pace never slows.

You try your best to listen, struggling to keep your eyes open. "Good girl, pretty baby. You'd do anything to keep me fuckin' this slutty pussy, wouldn't you?" Jinx teases, a mocking pout on her lips.

A borderline pornagraphic noise echos off the walks as you toss your head back, thighs beginning to shiver around her hand. "Anything! Anything you want!" You whine, looking back down at her. Your head feels fuzzy, and you look back down at her. Jinx smiles, loving how you've just completely given in to her.

With one final curl of your fingers, your mouth falls open with a cry as your head rolls back again. Your thighs struggle to stay still as you cum on her fingers, soaking her hand and more of the sheets below you.

She might just have to make you a nightly visit again.