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andcars · 6 months ago

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# 𝗠𝗔𝗫𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 : 𝗖𝗢𝗖𝗞 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 ─── THE FRIEND IN YOU MASTERLIST⠀MAXTOBER⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

THE RESULTS IN THE GRAND PRIX has got him so riled up. max is frustrated with his position, checo isn't even in the race by the last few laps, and the media is out for him. he needs something to calm him down

TAGS . . . # semi-public sex, brat max verstappen, needy max verstappen, demanding max verstappen, light dom/sub, top sergio perez, bottom max verstappen WORD COUNT. . . # 1.6k

────── AO3 VERSION

It's not fair. Max is doing good–he knows he’s doing good. Yet, at the same time, the car is not doing anything fucking good. So what happens is that he is bordering in P10, losing his fucking life on the turns and needs to battle Williams for a place. All the while Checo gets taken out at the last few laps.

The entire thing is stupid, it’s unfair.He wants to act calm, to at least look calm, but he is fuming with rage right now. Right now, the least he needs is the media twisting his words and actions again to something more extreme. He calms himself. He’s well and collected.

But once not a single lens is even in his direction and he’s in Checo’s room, he fucking loses it all.

He doesn’t give the man anything to say. He pushes him to his couch and their lips lock. Checo tries to say something, but he refuses to let him up.

Between kisses, Max is panting hard as he undresses the rest of his suit. It’s forgotten and completely dismissed.

Checo still needs to be undressed. Pulling away, he moves his lips down to unzip his suit with his teeth.

“Max,” he groans, “what are you doing?”

Max huffs as he uses his hands to push the man’s fireproof down. “I need something.”

“Come on…” Checo sighs, nthough not pushing Max away when he pulls out his cock.

It’s rushed, it's messy. Max doesn’t want to hear anymore complaints when he wraps his lips around Checo’s cock.

“Fuck,” Checo groans, hips jittering a little into Max’s mouth. He breathes out, eyes unwavering to his lips wrapped around to the base of his cock. Max drools, swallowing around as much as he can.

With Max guiding him, Checo’s hands come to pet his head. Checo’s rough fingers don’t tug at Max’s hair, rather they softly tangle itself in it, making its way to the short strands and to keep it there.

To Checo’s confusion, Max doesn’t move. He doesn’t really do anything, in fact. Max only spreads his legs more on the floor, relaxing his legs apart so he can kneel comfortably. His cheek is pressed against Checo’s thigh, finding comfort in the heat and the intimacy of it.

Checo isn’t really surprised. He hums, leaning back so that he can get comfortable. “Max,” he coles, placing one hand on his cheek now. “You’ll get a better race, they will fix it.”

Max acts like he’s not responding, but he hears everything. It gets Checo to only dote on him more.

“Is that why you want me like this?” he asks, “You want me to make you feel better?”

That gets him to moan.

“Okay,” says Checo, “I’ll stay like this, okay? But I want you to move up later, I wanna see your face.”

That gets Max to blush. He doesn’t say anything in return but pushes his head to nose at Checo’s pubes. Both of Checo’s hands hold either side of his face, keeping it still while Max noses at his hair. The small notion gets him to relax a little more, passing off the growing discomfort from sitting like this.

Staying like this is calming. The dullness of being on your knees, of letting someone be so close to you without even giving anything in particular. Max is so calm right now he could almost forget about—

He tongues at Checo’s cock and tries to bury his head deeper, getting the thoughts to leave his head. Checo pets him like he knows what he just did.

Tugging on his hair, Checo gets his attention, “None of that, Max. You want to stay still, right?”

Max doesn’t respond. Checo calls him a good boy under his breath.

It takes moments for Max to do anything again. His brain is completely mush as he kneels. He’s not even sure what time it is and he’s almost worried if anyone’s going to come and find them.

Without saying anything, Checo pulls his head off. He whines. “Checo—”

“Max, come on, we need to go soon.”

“I don’t care,” he whines, leaning over him and practically humping his leg. “Checo, I fucking want you right now and I was enjoying it..!”

“I know,” he sighs, caressing his face. “On the jet, okay? I can take a ride with you to Monaco and I’ll just take another jet back to Mexico, okay?”

It bothers Max a little that he’s making Checo go two flights insead of one. But whatever. He suggested it first anyways.

He’s pulled onto his legs and forced to come outside, acting like nothing is wrong. There are way less people here now so it doesn’t really matter to him if anyone sees him cling onto Checo.

On the jet, he asks for them to be left alone. The stewardess leaves without question.

Checo sits on the couch and Max climbs on top of them. Their jeans get discarded quickly, not even worn properly out of pure impatience. Or at least Max wasn’t, as his was unzipped while Checo was tidier than him.

When he gets the both of them stripped down, he’s reaching for the lube in the jet. Checo knows already that Max stocks up every flight. Max is keen to let it be warmed properly, so Checo doesn’t complain when he just pours it on top of his hardening cock.

“You gonna stretch yourself?” Checo asks, not getting a response when Max silently strokes him. “Okay,” he smiles.

Positioning himself on top, Max slowly takes Checo inch by inch. It’s satisfying, in a way. Checo isn’t even fully hard yet and he still feels so fucking good inside of him. He moans. The feel of Checo’s half hard cock growing inside of him feels so good.

He doesn’t move anymore, simply embracing Checo in his arms as he sits on his lap.

There’s a strong sense of dominance that comes out of Checo. Because when Max is pliable like this, Checo spoils Max in affection.

With one hand on Max’s hip, Checo strokes his back with the other. “Good boy,” he moans. “You feel good like that? Feels nice?”

Max whimpers, pressing his face against Checo’s neck instead to muffle his moans. Checo continues to whisper into his ear, “My good boy, just taking me like this. So sweet for me, so good.

“Fuck, Max,” he moves in his seat a little, rubbing against Max’s insides as he does so. “Don’t be stressed, okay? We can do better next time. I know you. I know that you’re so good, my boy.”

“Checo…” he moans, grinding down on Checo’s lap a little. His cock is trapped between their clothes chests, teasing against the fabric. “Stop saying—fuck—stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” he asks, shifting his hips a little. “Max, I’m not going to stop you. You’re never gonna make me say no.”

“Checo,” drawls out, panting a little as he humps Checo’s chest. “You’re so fucking good. Don’t—ugh, you’re so…”

He can’t find his words. Max is lost on himself as he moves a little, wanting to get just a bit more friction to cum. As much as he wants to stay still, Checo is petting him and calling him all these cute fucking names while he’s getting desperate for his cock.

“Ngh, yeah,” he moans, pressing down on Checo’s lap and getting him to groan, “yeah… I want you like this, Checo.”

“And you have me, Max,” he whispers, pressing kisses on his cheek. “Take all you want.”

Max doesn’t even hide anything anymore. He stops sitting idle and starts riding Checo. His little moans come out with each thrust, rutting against Checo’s shirt with his neglected cock.

His legs close around Checo’s waist. He whines in his ears and bites on the skin, stifling as he cums all over their shirts. He’s not so sure if Checo cums yet, so he rides him properly. Pulling out until only the tip is left, and slamming back down just to hear Checo let out a pained moan.

“Max—” he moans, holding his hips a bit too tight. “You’re going to push yourself.”

“No!” he says, pushing his hands off him. “Let me make you cum, please, just cum inside of me!”

He cries a little as he feels his prostate getting abused as his oversensitive cock is twitching. Checo is letting him do whatever he wants. He’s just letting Max act like some sort of fleshlight to satisfy Checo’s needs.

With each passing moment, Max feels like he’s going to cum again. He’s crying on Checo’s cock now, feeling his cock twitch uselessly on his stomach. “Checo,” he moans, “Checo!”

It doesn’t take long for him to cum inside of Max. After that, Max stills, using his hand to pump himself quickly to cum again on his wet shirt.

Checo sighs as Max pulls out, the cum dribblings down to his thighs. “Tissues.”

Everything in Max is used as he reaches for the tissues on the table. Wet tissues, of course. It’s not like Max was fully unprepared for this.

It’s Checo who wipes the both of them over, letting Max just slump against his body to rest. “Next time,” he starts, “if you want to be comforted, maybe don’t do it when we’re in public.”

“It doesn’t seem to matter at all.”

“GP walked into the room and you didn’t even notice.”

Oh. Fuck. Max blushes and hits Checo in the chest, complaining about how he didn’t even fucking warn him. Checo doesn’t even say anything to defend himself.

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . may have went a bit crazy on this one . if it feels like there's sergio perez was about to be called daddy in this fic at any point, know that i was going to actually write that in . idk why i didn't . ˎˊ˗ ᝰ. ──── 📨 @delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @tribbisweetdear @jamie2305 @yunnie-f1 @mv1simp

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

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aspenmissing · 3 months ago

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ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

3311 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.

JAYCE

The workshop hummed with the sound of gears turning and tools clattering, the faint scent of oil and metal hanging in the air. Jayce was in his element, bent over the prototype for a new hextech device, his muscles flexing as he tightened a bolt with a wrench. Y/N leaned against his desk, watching him work, a teasing smile playing on their lips.

“Y’know,” Y/N quipped, “for a guy who’s built like a brick wall, you still manage to look like a puppy concentrating on its first puzzle.”

Jayce shot them a mock glare but couldn’t hide the small chuckle. “A puppy that’s about to change the world,” he countered, brushing grease off his hands. “Don’t distract me.”

The moment of levity was interrupted by a sharp, high-pitched chittering sound. Both their heads snapped toward the corner of the workshop, where a blur of skittering legs darted across the floor.

“Oh, no.” Jayce froze, his confident demeanor crumbling as the creature came into view—a massive, hairy spider the size of a dinner plate. “Nope. Nope. That thing is not staying in here.”

Y/N blinked, stunned. “Wait, that’s what you’re freaking out about? Jayce, you’ve literally fought off Piltovan thugs with nothing but your fists. This is just a spider.”

Jayce was already halfway behind Y/N, his large hands gripping their shoulders. “I can punch a thug. I can’t punch that. What if it crawls up my arm? What if it—oh, gods, what if it jumps?”

“Jayce Talis,” Y/N said with mock exasperation, glancing over their shoulder at the towering man, “you’re six feet of pure muscle and you’re hiding behind me? This is embarrassing for both of us.”

The spider, seemingly emboldened by Jayce’s retreat, scurried closer. Jayce flinched, his grip tightening on Y/N. “Okay, okay, just kill it or throw something! Please!”

Rolling their eyes, Y/N grabbed the nearest object—a rolled-up schematic—and approached the spider with exaggerated caution, partly to mess with Jayce. “Relax, hero. I’ll save you from the big, bad bug.”

With a swift motion, Y/N swatted the spider, sending it tumbling toward an open window. The creature landed on the sill, paused for dramatic effect, and finally disappeared into the city beyond.

Y/N turned back, arms spread in triumph. “There. The beast is vanquished. You may now return to your work, my fair knight.”

Jayce let out a long breath, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Y/N grinned, poking his chest. “You’re lucky I’m here to protect you, big guy.”

Jayce groaned but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. He pulled Y/N into a quick hug, muttering, “My hero,” before returning to his work, albeit with a wary glance toward the window every so often.

VIKTOR

The dim light of Piltover’s laboratory district cast long shadows across the cobblestone streets. Y/N was on their way to deliver Viktor a stack of documents he'd requested, braving the late hour at his insistence that their findings were urgent. The streets were quieter than usual, save for the occasional hum of distant machinery or the clatter of boots on stone.

As Y/N approached the entrance to the lab, a low voice echoed from the shadows behind them.

“Well, well. Out a bit late, aren’t you?”

Turning sharply, Y/N spotted a man emerging from the alley, his face partially obscured but his posture unmistakably menacing. Another figure stepped out to his left, smirking as he cracked his knuckles.

“Not the best place for a stroll,” the second one said, his voice dripping with malice.

Y/N’s breath hitched, their grip tightening on the documents. They took a step back, heart pounding, and glanced toward the lab. A warm glow spilled from the windows—a beacon of safety if they could just get inside.

“Don’t even think about running,” the first man growled, stepping closer.

“Get away from them!”

The sharp voice cut through the tension like a blade. Viktor stepped into view, his cane tapping rhythmically against the ground. Despite his limp, he moved with purpose, golden eyes blazing with determination.

The thugs faltered for a moment, clearly surprised.

“And who’re you supposed to be? Their bodyguard?” one sneered, though his tone betrayed unease.

Viktor’s grip tightened on his cane, his expression hardening. “You will leave them alone,” he said, his voice low and unwavering. “Now.”

The first man snorted, lunging toward Viktor. But Viktor was quicker than they expected. He swung his cane with surprising force, striking the thug’s leg and sending him staggering.

“Stay behind me, Y/N,” Viktor said firmly, positioning himself between them and the attackers.

The second thug charged, but Viktor was ready. With a calculated step, he sidestepped the attack, using his cane to unbalance the man and send him crashing to the ground.

The first thug scrambled to his feet, glaring at Viktor. “You’ll regret this,” he spat before grabbing his companion and retreating into the shadows.

For a moment, the street was silent except for Y/N’s quickened breathing. Viktor turned to them, his stern expression softening.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Y/N nodded, their hands trembling slightly. “I… I think so. Thank you, Viktor. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

Viktor’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile as he reached out, his slender fingers gently wrapping around her trembling hands. The warmth of his touch steadied her, grounding her in the moment. “I am just glad I was nearby. Piltover may shine bright, but even its shadows can be dangerous.” He paused, studying them. “You should not have come alone. Next time, send for me.”

Y/N nodded, warmth blooming in their chest despite the lingering fear. Viktor’s protective nature was always understated, but in this moment, it felt like a shield, steadfast and unyielding.

“Let’s get inside,” Viktor said gently, gesturing toward the lab. “You can explain what was so urgent once you’ve had a chance to breathe.”

As they stepped into the light, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a new sense of safety, knowing Viktor would always be there to protect them.

JAYVIK

The lab buzzed with quiet activity, the hum of Hextech crystals resonating in the air. Y/N worked at the center station, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she adjusted the array of lenses for their latest experiment. Viktor stood beside her, leaning on his cane, a rare smile tugging at his lips as he offered suggestions.

“This alignment should amplify the crystal’s energy tenfold,” Viktor said, his golden gaze gleaming with anticipation.

Y/N nodded, sharing his enthusiasm. “Exactly. If we time it just right, we’ll create a stable energy flow. It could change everything.”

Jayce, watching from across the room, frowned. “Are you two sure about this? That crystal looks ready to blow at the slightest mistake.”

“It will be fine, Jayce,” Viktor replied, waving him off. “We have accounted for every variable.”

“And this setup is flawless,” Y/N added confidently. “Just watch.”

But the warning signs were subtle—too subtle to catch in time. A spark jumped from the crystal, striking the array. The lenses shattered, and the lab was bathed in an ominous blue glow. The surge of energy crackled, fast and unforgiving, surging toward Y/N and Viktor.

“Y/N! Viktor!”

Jayce moved in an instant. Vaulting over the workbench, he shoved them both out of harm’s way. Viktor stumbled, catching himself on his cane, while Y/N landed heavily against a shelf. Jayce turned to shield them both as the crystal exploded with a deafening crack.

The blast wasn’t as violent as feared, but the force knocked Jayce to the ground. The aftermath left a haze of smoke and the acrid scent of scorched metal hanging in the air.

“Jayce!” Y/N scrambled to his side, her hands trembling as she checked him for injuries. “Are you okay?”

Jayce groaned, pushing himself up on one elbow. “I’m fine. Just… next time, maybe listen when I say it looks dangerous?”

Viktor limped over, coughing slightly but otherwise unharmed. “That was reckless, Jayce. You could have been seriously injured.” His voice held a mix of frustration and gratitude.

“Someone had to step in,” Jayce replied, flashing a tired smile.

Y/N exhaled shakily, helping him to his feet. “Thank you, Jayce. You saved us.”

Jayce rested a hand on her shoulder, his expression softening. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“And next time,” Viktor added, glancing between them, “we’ll ensure no one needs to play the hero. Safety measures first.”

“Agreed,” Y/N said, her voice firm, though the gratitude in her eyes lingered as she met Jayce’s gaze.

Jayce smirked, his hand lingering over hers. “Fine. But don’t think I won’t keep an eye on you two.”

Between Jayce’s protectiveness and Viktor’s careful planning, Y/N felt a rare and cherished sense of safety—one she would never take for granted.

VANDER

The Last Drop was bustling as always, voices rising in a chaotic medley of laughter, arguments, and the clinking of glasses. Vander moved with practiced ease, the hulking man weaving through the crowd to check on patrons, break up the occasional spat, and lend a hand wherever needed.

You were behind the counter, sleeves rolled up as you juggled pouring drinks and taking orders. The lively atmosphere didn’t bother you much—it was part of the charm of the Undercity, and working alongside Vander always made the chaos worthwhile.

“Y/N!” Vander called, his gravelly voice cutting through the noise. You glanced up to see him gesturing toward the back. “Can you grab some more glasses and the case of rum from the pantry? We’re runnin’ low.”

“On it!” you replied, setting down your rag and slipping past him. As you brushed by, his hand briefly rested on your shoulder, a quiet but affectionate acknowledgment.

The pantry was tucked in the back, shelves packed with various supplies. It wasn’t the most organized space, but you’d managed to navigate it before. You stepped inside and began grabbing what was needed: the case of rum, a few boxes of cocktail ingredients, and a stack of clean glasses.

The rustling as you reached for one of the higher shelves echoed through the pantry. You stretched further, trying to grab a box teetering at the very top. As you pulled it down, something shifted above.

A faint creak and scrape caught your attention, but before you could look up, the weight of a heavy wooden crate loomed. It tipped forward, hurtling straight down.

“Y/N!”

Vander’s voice was the first thing you registered before his broad form appeared at the doorway, moving faster than you thought someone of his size could. In one fluid motion, he threw his arm over your head, catching the brunt of the falling crate. His other hand knocked it aside, sending it crashing harmlessly to the floor with a loud thud.

You stumbled back, eyes wide as the shock of what just happened sank in. Vander remained where he was, arm still braced protectively above you. His chest heaved with a sharp intake of breath as he glanced down at you, concern etched into his rugged features.

“You alright?” he asked, his deep voice softer than usual.

You nodded, swallowing hard as your heart raced. “Y-Yeah, thanks to you.”

He lowered his arm and let out a relieved sigh, his tense posture easing. “Damn supplier, I told them to make sure the crates were put properly on the shelf” he muttered, casting a glare at the offending object. His eyes flicked back to you, scanning you over as if to double-check for injuries. “You gotta be more careful back here, love. Could’ve been bad.”

“I didn’t realize it was so unstable,” you admitted, shaking your head. “I should’ve paid more attention.”

“Nah,” Vander said, stepping closer and cupping your face with a calloused hand. “Ain’t your fault. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.” His thumb brushed gently against your cheek. “Lucky I caught it in time.”

The closeness of him, the way his voice softened just for you, made your cheeks flush. Despite the scare, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Guess I owe you one,” you said, placing a hand over his where it rested on your face.

Vander chuckled, the sound low and reassuring. “You already do enough around here. Just promise me you’ll holler next time you need somethin�� from the top shelf, yeah?”

“Promise,” you replied, your grin widening.

He gave you one last look, his expression a mixture of affection and lingering worry, before pulling you into a brief but warm embrace. “C’mon,” he murmured against your hair. “Let’s get back before they burn the place down without us.”

With Vander’s arm slung protectively over your shoulders, the two of you left the pantry together. And though the Last Drop’s chaos hadn’t abated, you felt a little more grounded knowing he’d always be there to catch you when it mattered most.

SILCO

The Undercity always carried the stench of betrayal, but tonight, it was worse. Silco stood by the window of his office, his mismatched eyes scanning the chaos outside. The shimmer of neon lights reflected off the glass as shouts and gunfire echoed in the distance. The deal with the Chem-Barons had gone sideways, and now retaliation was inevitable.

Y/N stepped into the room, her boots clinking against the floor as she approached him. “They’re moving faster than we thought. Enforcers, thugs—it’s a mess out there,” she said, gripping the hilt of the dagger at her side.

Silco turned, his face a calm mask despite the storm brewing outside. “They’ll come for me first. They always do.”

“Then they’ll find me standing in their way,” Y/N replied, her voice steady and sure.

A rare flicker of something softened Silco’s sharp gaze. “You don’t owe me this.”

Y/N smirked, leaning against the desk. “Maybe not. But you’ve saved me more times than I can count. Besides, I’m not about to let you handle this alone.”

The first explosion rattled the walls, shaking dust from the rafters. Silco grabbed his revolver, tucking it into his coat. “Then let’s make sure they regret their decision.”

The fight erupted in the darkened corridors of the Last Drop. Smoke filled the air as bullets whizzed past. Y/N was a force of nature, darting between attackers with her blade, her movements fluid and deliberate. When one thug lunged at Silco, she was there, her dagger plunging into his side before he could strike.

“Focus!” she shouted over the chaos, her eyes meeting Silco’s for a brief moment.

Silco, despite his usual distaste for direct combat, held his own. He aimed with precision, each shot taking down a would-be assailant. When Y/N found herself cornered by two brutes, he stepped forward, firing a round into one and cracking the other over the head with the butt of his gun.

“You’re reckless,” he hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into cover.

“Look who’s talking,” she retorted, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

The two shared a fleeting grin before a new wave of enemies surged forward.

When the dust finally settled, the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and sweat. The last of their attackers lay motionless, and the bar was in shambles. Silco slumped against the wall, his hand pressed to a gash on his shoulder. Y/N knelt beside him, tearing a strip of fabric from her sleeve to bandage the wound.

“You’re lucky they didn’t aim better,” she muttered, tying the makeshift bandage tight.

Silco chuckled dryly. “And you’re lucky I was watching your back.”

Y/N met his gaze, her expression softening. “Always.”

For a moment, the weight of the Undercity’s darkness lifted. They had survived another night together, their loyalty to each other unshaken.

“Come on,” Y/N said, helping him to his feet. “We’ve got a mess to clean up.”

Silco leaned on her slightly as they walked. “It’s always a mess in Zaun. But with you, I can handle it.”

And in the shadows of the Undercity, they stood as each other’s shields—unbreakable, unyielding, and fiercely protective.

POWDER/JINX

The sound of crackling glass and twisted metal echoed through the ruined streets of Zaun. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, and the dim flicker of streetlights barely lit the chaos around them. Jinx was pacing back and forth, her wild eyes scanning the area, her fingers twitching nervously as if she were on the edge of something.

“Y/N, this place is so fun,” Jinx giggled, her voice echoing with manic energy. “It's a playground for all of us!”

But you could sense something was off. The usual playful madness in her voice was clouded by something deeper, more dangerous. You knew Jinx all too well—when the chaos and explosions weren’t enough to keep her occupied, it meant something far worse was brewing inside her.

"Stay close, Jinx," you said, your voice low and firm, as you stepped closer to her. The familiar weight of the dagger hidden at your side reassured you, but it wasn't just the weapon that kept you calm—it was the responsibility you felt for her. She was more than just an explosive whirlwind to you. She was the girl you protected, the one you'd do anything to keep safe.

Her eyes darted to you, still wild, but there was a flicker of vulnerability beneath the madness. “Don’t worry about me, Y/N! I’m fine! No one can stop me!”

But before you could respond, a group of enforcers emerged from the shadows. They moved swiftly, surrounding you and Jinx. They were not just any enforcers, either. These were the ones who'd been hunting her for months—the ones who saw Jinx as a threat to their fragile order in the undercity. And now they had her in their sights.

"Move, Jinx!" you barked, pulling her back protectively. You placed yourself between her and the approaching soldiers, your stance firm and unyielding. "Not today."

One of the enforcers sneered, raising his weapon. "Step aside. You know we can’t let her go free."

You felt your heart racing, but you didn’t hesitate. Your hand hovered over the hilt of your dagger, ready to defend her with everything you had. Jinx, seeing the confrontation, froze, her usual chaotic energy replaced with a strange sense of attachment to you.

“Y/N…?” Her voice was quieter now, almost unsure.

“No one is touching you, Jinx,” you whispered, your tone soft yet unyielding. “Not on my watch.”

Before the enforcers could make another move, you lunged forward, your dagger flashing in the dim light. The first enforcer’s weapon was knocked from his hands, and you quickly incapacitated him with a well-placed strike. The others hesitated, unsure of whether to engage or retreat. You could see the fear in their eyes, but you weren’t about to give them the chance.

With a quick glance to Jinx, you noticed the faintest glimmer of relief in her eyes. She stepped forward, her usual mania gone for a moment, replaced by a deep trust. She didn't need to be told what to do. She picked up a nearby bomb and threw it with a wild grin, her laughter ringing out as the explosion sent the remaining enforcers scattering.

“Nice job, Jinx,” you said, giving her a small, approving nod. She beamed at you, her previous anxiety melting away as she clung to your side.

“You’re the best, Y/N,” she said, her voice laced with genuine gratitude. Her chaotic persona might’ve been what others saw, but you saw the frightened girl behind it, the one who trusted you more than anyone else in this world.

You gave her a smile, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “And I’ll always protect you, no matter what.”

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