#and i dont know how to move past it right now

[arcanewhoosh]

hiii how are you? I hope ur doing well!

I dont know if your requests are open or not so if they aren’t feel free to just ignore this :)

i was wondering if you could write a jinx X female reader (if not female gn is totally alright whatever you’re comfortable with) a soulmate au with jinx where it’s the reader who goes to the alternative universe instead of ekko, but instead of just going to one universe, the reader ends up going to multiple ones. she/they find out that jinx is her/their partner in every universe, in every timeline, in every possibility, making them soulmates.

I actually made a post about this idea, asking if anyone could write it, but I also wanted to ask you as well because I just adore your writing so so sooo much. I could honestly read your work for hours without getting bored or tired.

I Think We're Kind of Made for Each Other

This work will be posted (with an additional scene) on AO3 here. Please note that the work posted there will be tagged as Explicit

24.3k words

Proofread? Y/N

Relevant Tags: JinxXReader, Female Reader, Soulmates AU, Multiple timelines, Violence, Major character death, Suicide, Self-Harm, Alcohol consumption, Original side character, Canon compliant, LoL characters

When the anomaly at the Hex Gate transports you and your friends across realities, you're forced to confront the different lives you live in each one. But will you be able to accept a hard truth when you face the only constant thing in every timeline?

A/N: I just wanted to say, that this has to be my magnum opus. I don't think I can write another oneshot this long. To be fair, the idea had been floating in my head for a while, so when the request came, I kinda went crazy. And to think I thought I could write this in a day lol.

Nevertheless, I had a lot of fun writing. I highly encourage you to read some of my other stuff, purely because there are a few references in this story.

Please enjoy. And if you like it, feel free to share with your friends.

One

The feeling of wetness on the side of your face wakes you up—your entire left side, actually—as a dull ache starts to throb in your head. Barely register the rain pelting down on you, as you open your eyes and try to catch your bearings.

There's a loud ringing in your ears, but you can make out muffled shouting and gunfire, the sizzling in the air followed by a boom. It triggers the fight or flight response in you, but everything is hurting and you can't remember how you even ended up here. You should be doing something right now, but for the life of you, you can't figure out what. Your hand wipes at your ear as you open your eyes to inspect it, an unsurprising streak of red on your fingers is starting to smear as the rain continues to pour. Your vision swims for a few seconds, and you figure a concussion is going to be added along with the possible ruptured eardrum in your list of injuries.

Thankfully, your gaze focuses on the sight in ahead of you. The familiar bridge dividing Piltover and Zaun, cracked and blown off at sections. There are armed people hiding behind a barricade on your side of the bridge, shooting at enforcers at the other end of the bridge.

You plant your hands on the concrete and try to push yourself up, getting to about knee level before a sharp pain in your foot knocks the wind out of you and fall back down.  It only occurs to you now to look down and inspect the rest of you. Banged up, caked in dirt and blood—Whose blood was that?—0and your clothes torn at odd places. Your foot is still there, and it's not dangling off at an awkward angle, at least. You grit your teeth and try to move the injured limb. The pain wracks through your body, but your foot moves nonetheless. Sprained, not broken; good.

An explosion next to you pulls you back into reality and starts up your sense of urgency as you crawl away to cover. You hide behind a fallen pillar and try to get your bearings. A number of people run past you, all carrying guns and explosives from what you can make out—Why are we in a gun fight with the Pilties?—all ignoring you as they erect more barricades and set their weapons up. It might be the adrenaline, but you can't for the life of you remember how you ended up in this situation. What the hell were you doing here?

You close your eyes and try to block out the pain from your head and ankle, willing yourself to recall the events prior this firefight.

This was all planned. Carefully planned over the course of years.

The painstaking effort it took to build weapon factories in the fissures to stay out of Piltover's radar.

the underground hand-to-hand combat classes.

"You know, you say we should feel like we're all one people—"

Expanding Zaun southwards to facilitate growth for the future.

"Is that a wild rune?"

"I have no idea what that is."

Noxus antagonizing you for trying to build a better city for your people.

"No, don't touch it!"

"Ekko--"

Your thoughts are interrupted when a pair of hands grab you by your shoulders. Your eyes snap open at the figure in front of you, her pink eyes all too familiar with you. She looks worried—about you, no less—and affection blooms in your chest the same time a feeling of repulsion comes over you. Jinx, you try to say, but you're still reeling from your injuries and your attempt to recall what had just happened, and you're not able to utter a word. She's speaking, but you can barely make out what she's saying because of the ringing in your ears. You try to read her lips, but your mind is too hazy to make sense of her words.

She realizes that you're not understanding her at all, and she spots the blood still coming out of your ear. She gingerly wipes off some of the blood with a gloved hand, and you instinctively—instinctively??—lean into her touch. She pulls out a small vial with a needle at the end of it. The pink glow of its contents immediately tells you that it's shimmer, as Jinx takes off the  cover with her mouth and spits it out to the side.

"No." You say. At least you think you do, you can't really hear yourself. You hand grabs her wrist holding the needle, but she's faster and leans her hand away just out of reach from you. She grabs your own with her free hand, and gives you an apologetic look. You're not sure why, but you can almost tell that she's trying to say this'll help, I promise.

The smile alone is enough to make you relent, and a part of you is bewildered at the fact. Still, you put your hand down and let her stab the needle into your thigh, its contents seeping through.

You lurch forward at the sensation, but she catches you and holds you as you tense up from the high that shimmer delivers with it. You grab onto her as you wait for the effects to subside.

"It's okay, you're okay, I've got you." She whispers into your hair. You relax, slowly but surely. Besides the fogginess you still feel, you're a million gold coins. You gently push yourself away, taking a look around, your sense suddenly heightened. A short side effect of shimmer, if you remember right.

"Jinx." You finally manage. "Are you okay?"

She scoffs, but you know that it's not out of hostility. "Don't you think I should be asking you that?"

She has a point. A part of you wants to contradict her for the fun of it, but this isn't the place, or time. You peek over the side of the pillar, the barricades are holding strong, even gaining ground over Piltover. The momentary safety provided by cover is enough for you pull Jinx and yourself on your feet.

Her face if covered in dirt and grease. She was supposed to be working on Fishbones, away from the front lines. "You're supposed to be on higher ground."

"I'm not gonna sit on my ass while you're all here risking your lives. Besides—" She pushes a rifle onto you. "Fishbones is ready. Once the Noxian's ship is even an inch within range, they're done for."

You shake your head. "You're better if you're--"

"No." She starts. She has a determined look in her eye, the same one she sports when she wants you to drop an argument. And you drop it, every single time.

"I'm just as good as a shot as you. And we're winning." She gestures toward the bridge, where the line of enforcers and Noxians troops are slowly but surely backing away. "We'll need as many boots here as we can. You said it yourself, the hardest part is gonna be holding the line once they call for negotiations."

Your grip tightens on the rifle. You were so close to freeing Zaun. Wait what?

Freeing Zaun? No, you needed to save your tree, with the firelights, and all the refugees. You needed to find Ekko, and Heimerdinger, and Jayce. Jinx… Jinx was the enemy. She killed your friends before, blown up your safehouses, let Silco flood the streets with shimmer—

"The Noxians ships are here!"

You both turn to the east side of the bridge, and spot the fleet approaching. Their pace glacial because of the narrow path on the water. They start deploying smaller boats filled with their soldiers, headed for the small docks on your side of the bridge. You turn back to Jinx, her eyes are still trained on you. She takes a breath, and opens her mouth to say something--

"Cap! We're armed and ready!" A blob of pink hair catches your attention; it's Vi, waving over to you from a distance away. "Give the signal!" You look up to the rooftops above her, a group of people rolling three launchers forward, all trained on the large vessels in the water. The blue glow coming from the HexTech gemstone running through lines on the launchers they were all hauling. One for each ship.

"This is it." You say as you grab Jinx's arm. "Go take cover."

"And leave you here? Fat chance."

"Jinx."

"I'm staying." This stubborn little—You sigh, now was not the time for a petty argument. You were about to give the go signal for a possible war-ending—or war escalating—attack. You settle for pulling Jinx with you as you zigzag towards where Vi is, bullets flying everywhere.

"We're armed and ready." She says as she crouches next to you. You know you can't delay the command, but a pit settles in your stomach as the weight of your decisions starts to sink in. The number of lives that'll be lost from this.

But you don't have the luxury in time, not in war. All you have is the culmination of your split second decisions and the consequences that follow.

"Tell them to fire." You state it with such calmness that it surprises the three of you. Vi nods, nonetheless, and gives the signal to the fighters on the rooftop.

In the few seconds that the high pitched screech of the launchers resonate through the air, the battlefields becomes silent. All eyes trained on the rooftops of Zaun, then the Noxian ships.

The first rocket hits a ship. A loud bang is heard as it makes contact, followed by a muffled explosion as smoke starts to billow out of the ship. The vessel stops moving, and a line of soldiers dressed in red start abandoning ship as fires start erupting out of doors and windows. The other two ships follow the same fate. A loud bang, an explosion, the smoke, and people desperately trying to get away.

You stare at the horrific sight in front of you. There are no sounds from the guns firing from each side, no bangs from projectiles being launched from mini Hex gates. Everyone has stopped whatever they were doing and were now watching people on ships, trying to escape the inferno quickly building up.

Your head throbs, and you stumble as you try to walk towards the bridge. Jinx catches you as you fall to your knees, your head suddenly as heavy as lead, the ringing in your ears returning, louder this time. Jinx is trying to tell you something, but your vision begins to blur, and you feel like you need to just… shut your eyes for a few moments.

-----

Two

"Hey, Ms. Port Master extraordinaire? Hello?"

The snap of fingers brings you out of your stupor. You blink a few times before clearing your throat.

"Sorry." You try to flash a smile to the woman in front of you. Her eyes scrutinize you for a brief moment, seemingly trying to figure out what was going on in your mind, before her infuriatingly attractive smirk adorns her face.

"Didn't peg you for a lightweight."

You snort as you take a sip from your glass. "I'm not a lightweight."

"The zoning out is kind of a dead giveaway."

"I wasn't zoning out. I was lost in your eyes."

"You weren't even looking at me."

"I had to look away cause I was getting lost in your eyes?"

She lightly punches your arm—damn she's strong—before leaning against the counter of the busy bar. You sit close to each other, citing the noisy atmosphere and the hindrance that would cause during your conversation, but you both know better. You wanted to sit close because she was, pardon your French, too fucking attractive. Hers, you weren't sure yet, but you'd be able to find out eventually.

"I'm guessing you don't get lost in all of your customers' eyes, too?"

"Just yours." You’re not a lightweight, that much you’re certain. Tipsy, however, you very much are. If the brazen flirting wasn’t making it obvious enough.

"And you weren't out last night with some poor girl who also had engine troubles?" You put a hand over your chest.

"You're breaking my heart here, blue." The feigned hurt in your voice does little to deter the eye roll that Powder gives you. You let out a laugh as you put your hands up as a mock sign of peace. "Hey, I swear I was trying my best to be professional earlier, but I'm off the clock now, so I can flirt as much as I want."

"Oh, we're flirting?" You furrow your brows at her.

"Was that not clear?"

"Nah, not really."

"Do you platonically get lost in people's eyes?"

"Maybe. How do I know you don't take girls here every night? I could ask the bartender."

"Go ahead, he's an unbiased party. Besides," You shrug. "Even if I did, I'm a regular here so he wouldn't snitch on me."

"Don't put words in my mouth you muppet." the burly man working behind the bar walks towards the two of you, refilling your drinks. He winks at Powder. "Don't worry love, I'd sell this one for a sack of potatoes--"

"Hey!"

"But." He says, a thick eyebrow raised at you. "Lil' missy here isn't a revolving door of lovers. In fact, I don't reckon' she's ever brought someone here. Or landed a date, actually—" Powder snorts into her drink, and you take it as a sign that it's time to usher the barkeep away.

"Okay, thank you Ed, for the refills. I think there's some people asking for you over there." Ed laughs as he lumbers over to the other side of the bar. You keep your eyes on him until you're sure that he's occupied, before turning back to Powder. "I do in fact, get dates. For the record."

"Oh, of course, I totally believe you."

"I mean it."

"Completely believe you."

"Okay, now you're just messing me." Your ego is a bit bruised at Ed's interruption, the shit eating grin on Powder's face isn't helping either. But she's smiling, and for some ungodly reason, you consider it as a win. You shake your head and take a longer sip from your drink, why the hell were you so sappy all of a sudden?

"Okay, okay. Sorry, toots." She nudges you with her shoulder. "No more teasing."

You raise an eyebrow at her. "No more bruising my ego?" She shakes her head and crosses over her heart.

"Nope. Serious questions only, from this point forward."

"Oh? Like what?" You turn to her and prop your chin on your hand.

"Like…" She bites her lip and looks at a random spot on the wall of drinks across from you, momentarily in thought. At this point, you're not even trying to hide your staring. She doesn't call you out on it when she looks back at you, but a small smirk plays at her face. “You’re drunk.”

“Just as drunk as you are.”

“I’m not drunk yet.”

“You’re literally slurring your words right now.”

“…I’m tipsy.”

You do your best to hold back a chuckle. “Hi tipsy—“

“Gods, please don’t.” She groans and hides her face in her hands. “I was just starting to find you attractive.”

“I thought we were done bruising my ego?”

“The dad jokes make you free real estate.”

“Okay, alright.” You laugh. Gently prying her hands away from her face. “Just ask me your question.“

She relents, but doesn’t let go of you as she sets her hand down the counter. “Hmm…”

“Did you grow up here?”

“Here? No, I only came here about five years ago. Looking for my great perhaps and all.” A momentary ring in your ear causes your breath to hitch, but Powder doesn’t seem to notice.

“Where are you from?” She continues, her eyes slightly glazed but reflecting her curiosity.

“I’m from—“

The Free Nation of Zaun

The Undercity

Why the hell would I tell you?

“Hey.” Jinx gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You do your damn best not to yank your hand away. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”

Bilgewater, you’re from Bilgewater.

“No, it’s okay.” You squeeze her hand back before she has the chance to pull away. "Could you give me a second?"

You wait for her to nod before you push yourself off the stool and make your way to the bathroom. You quickly lock the door and rest your head against it. The ringing in your ears returns, and your breathing becomes ragged. "Where the hell am I?" You look over to the bathroom mirror, and you're surprised to see the figure standing in front of you.

Your hair is different; your face—you look healthier? Not someone who grew up in the Undercity. You walk over to the sink, planting both hands on either side, scrutinizing your features further. It's you alright, somehow. Only it's also not.

Born in Bilgewater, left for adventure, ended up here working at the port.

"No." You shut your eyes as you shake your head. "I was born in the Undercity, I'm a firelight, we came across a wild rune and… now I'm here. I need to find Ekko, and Jayce, and Heimerdinger." You repeat the words a few more times, just to make sure you don't forget. The sound of water flowing out of the faucet as you turn a knob offers little comfort, but the cold sensation of the water when you splash your face helps.

You're about to turn and exit the bathroom when you spot something on your arm.  A small thing, peeking out of your sleeve. You gasp as you pull your sleeve back, the web-like patterns of the wild rune threading a line over your forearm.

You needed to find out what was happening, and why you've already encountered Jinx twice, every time you did whatever you were doing. Were you hallucinating? Did you just hit your head and was currently having a really trippy dream? You decide to think this over once you shake off Jinx, Powder, whoever she is. Easier said than done, since you kept acting like some lovesick fool.

When you return to the bar, Jinx is still there. Her back is turned to you, but her shoulders are slumped in a way that you can immediately tell that she's not in a good mood.

"Oi." Ed flicks your ear, ignoring your protest. "What the hell are you doing, making that sweet lass upset?"

I wouldn't use sweet to describe her.

"Sorry, I—uh, I'll fix it."

"Damn right you will. You come across someone like that once every lifetime." He pushes you toward the bar, before going back to clear a table.

"Sorry about that." Her head whips up in surprise, clearly not expecting you to be back. "Lost myself for a bit there."

"I…I thought you snuck out, honestly. It's no big deal, happens sometimes." She shrugs, her shoulders tense. She's trying to be nonchalant about you suddenly excusing yourself, but she was still slurring her words, and her gestures were becoming uncoordinated, so it wasn't really working. She looked more upset the more she tried to play it off.

You reach over the bar and grab a pitcher of water and a glass, filling it up and handing it over to her. "I'm really sorry about that."

She glares at the glass before reluctantly downing its contents "S'fine." A few beats of silence pass, and you unexpectedly feel guilt start to bubble up in your chest. No. No. No.

“I grew up in Bilgewater.”

"Huh?"

"You asked earlier, where I was from? Bilgewater. Terrible place, really." 

She folds her arms on the counter and rests her head on them, closing her eyes. “Why’d you leave?”

“You get sick of the smelly pirates? Though, I do have to give them credit, their wild stories of adventure and conquest is what made me leave in the first place.”

"You didn't just join some random ship?"

You chuckle. "And get myself killed for some dumb mistake? No thanks." You refill her glass with water, before picking up your own and swirling the brown liquid around. You recall working in a bar, up in the higher levels of Bilgewater, where adventurers spent the coin that they made from their exploits, before begrudgingly having to go back down and gather a crew to earn more. A vicious that kept repeating itself. Sometimes, if they were lucky, the whole crew would survive, but those instances were few and far in between.

Memories. You realize. These are all your memories, or, whoever you are here, at least.

A properly functioning Hex Gate was capable of transporting ships across continents in a split second. Does this mean a magically screwed up one could transport you to a different life entirely? Was it because of the remnants of the anomaly on your arm?

You shake your head, this was stuff that Ekko was good at, not you. You needed to find him, fast.

But first, take care of this one.

As if on cue, you hear a light snore come from next to you. Jinx is knocked out, clearly not bothered by how she's awkwardly hunched over the counter. You sigh, you have no idea how to get back home, but you decide to handle that issue tomorrow. Right now, you had a drunk Jinx to take care of.

Thankfully, you remember where you live, because having to haul around a drunk Jinx was difficult enough. Small victories though, as you realize that this is better than being stuck in the middle of a battle field. You settle yourself on your bay window, looking over to Jinx's sleeping form on your bed. Tomorrow, you'd start figuring out a way to get home. For now, you'll try to get your first wink of sleep in Gods know how long.

-----

Twenty-eight

In the indiscernible amount of time that has passed—for you, at least—you've come to realize the following things: 

You are not hallucinating, nor did you hit your head, you are, in fact, jumping through universes and different versions of yourself.

The first hurdle you had to get through was getting your bearings when you'd get thrown into another universe. It took a few tries, but eventually, you were able to come to your senses immediately after jumping to the next plane of existence you were in. You always repeated the mantra you made back in the second jump you did, the last thing you needed was to forget where you came from. The thought of aimlessly wandering through universes, feeling like you've lost your mind, you can't even imagine how terrible that would be. You needed to find the others as soon as you can.

The length of stay always varied and timelines can repeat, but there are always miniscule variations.

This was still a working theory. You've only repeated a timeline once, but you had enough wits about you to realize that some objects were a different color to their preceding counterpart, or that instead of Ekko explaining something to you, it was Scar. With how long you'd stay, there were a few instances when you'd only stay for a few minutes, but the rest spanned to about a week at the longest.

Somehow, some way, you and Jinx are connected in some way, shape, or form. In every. Single. One.

The last one was especially jarring, considering you had never even met Jinx officially back in your universe. Sure, you’ve had run-ins with her because the Firelights would frequently be trying to intercept shimmer routes, but you don't think barely surviving one of her chompers counted as an introduction. On top of that, she was your enemy back home, but in every single jump you've had so far, the two of you had a somewhat established relationship. This was good, in a way, because at least you didn't have to be on your guard constantly while you tried to figure out a way to get home.

"I can hear you thinking from over here."

Speak of the devil.

You ignore the comment from your friend. Emphasis on friend. In this universe it seemed, the both of you were Academy students in Piltover, mercifully platonic. You decided to do your best to study wild runes and HexTech when you could, but it proved to be difficult when you were distracted by that Other You's feelings for Jinx. At least this place gave you access to a literal sea of books and a clear enough mind.

"Hey, don't ignore me." Jinx opts to lightly tug at the top half of the book you're reading, and you can see her blue eyes peek through the space. That's right, no shimmer exposure in this universe.

"I'm studying." You deadpan, hoping she'll leave you alone. You get a mock imitation of your words, instead.

"No you're not, none of our classes are even looking into dusty old books about runes." She has a point. Truth be told, you're supposed to be studying about ethical practices in the field of body modification for utility uses. Which was close to nothing, really. But you can't really tell Jinx why you're reading about runes, now, can you?

"Have you ever heard of this thing called supplementary reading?" You shake the book off of her fingers, and go back to your futile attempt to learn about magic. Not that this book was any use, there wasn't even a list of runes and their definitions on here. The girl in front of you leans back on her chair and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Ugh, you're boring. Let's go do something fun!" Her foot kicks at your shoe from under the table, and you have to lift both feet up to avoid her kicks.

"Hey! Not everyone can sleep through every class and still get high marks, Jinx." You scoot your chair out from under the table to put distance between the two of you. "Some of us have to actually study."

"What's studying without any field experience?"

"Pipe down. The librarian is gonna kick us both out, again."

She sticks her tongue out at you, but lowers her voice. "Come on, I'm dying of boredom here!" She splays out her upper half on the table, arms toppling over some of the papers and books you—Very neatly!—stacked for reference.

Your mouth forms a thin line, her rowdy, and playful personality had become apparent to you once you went through a few more universes. She'd get pissed if you ignored her for too long, but the structured environment of the Academy hindered a her from having any outbursts. So you opt to continue reading your books instead of taking the bait, quashing any urge from the You of this universe to make a side comment about her behavior.

She continues with her ranting about you not having any fun or having a stick up your ass. Her jabs get progressively more offensive, but that's how her and the Other You here interact. It's not fun for you yourself, because you didn't have the patience to make a jab at her without losing your cool.

You rub an eyebrow with one your hands, before gripping the book, willing yourself to focus on the next few pages in case they provide any useful information. You try to tune out the other girl, who has thankfully gone quiet.

You move book to book, thankful that this version of you could read and absorb information so fast. Sadly, you couldn't find anything about wild runes. Looks like Piltover was strict about distancing itself from magic as much as they could.

You don't look up from your book until you hear a grumbling from in front of you.

"What was that?" You close your book and pile it onto the Useless pile--which was all of them, really--and raise an eyebrow at Jinx, whose arms are crossed and is looking off to the side.

"doyouwannageticecream" You blink.

"Jinx, I'm not gonna understand a word you say if you keep grumbling like that."

She rolls her eyes. "I said, do you wanna get ice cream? or something."

Huh, how random.

"I made you upset earlier, and ice cream makes people feel better so..."

"I wasn't upset" You were.

"Yeah you were."

"I was annoyed."

"I know your annoyed face from your upset face."

"There's a difference?"

"So you were!" She slams her hand on the table, and is met by an irate librarian shushing her. You're once again taken aback by how different each Jinx behaves from the others. Where you were sure your universe's Jinx would have shot that poor woman, this one sheepishly rubs the back of her neck and throws a peace sign at her. If you weren't exposed to your universe's Jinx, you would have found her behavior cute. But you were exposed, so it absolutely isn't, and you're not going to play along with her to make her feel better.

"Thank for the offer jinx, but I'm not really in the mood to get ice cream." Good. "...and I'm not mad at you, or anything." You swear the last part was added in by Other You. Nonetheless, this seems to work as Jinx relaxes, resigning to making paper airplanes with the notes you had made while you went back to reading.

"Wanna break into Giopara's lab?" She starts.

"No."

"I think you'd want to—"

"No."

"If you say so." the singsong tone in her voice and the in caring shrug sets off alarm bells in your head. She's baiting you again.

Your eyes narrow at her. "You're being weird."

"No I'm not. I just thought—seeing as you're all interested in runes all of a sudden--you'd want to look at Giopara's vast  book collection on that very subject."

"How the hell would you even know that?"

"Cause," She shrugs again. "He keeps saying I'm not living up to my potential and tries to make me read more Hex Tech origin stuff."

Your mouth hangs open, but you manage to close it before Jinx calls you a blubbering fish. "Wait a second. You're saying you've been reading about runes and Hex Tech?"

"Yup."

"So you know that the books here in the library are useless?"

"Mhm."

"And you've been letting me waste my time reading through them like an idiot?" 

She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms. "They're not useless. They're just... Not useful."

"You're such a dick sometimes." Your remark is loud enough that the librarian to shush you as well. You whisper a sorry before turning back to Jinx.

"And you always have a stick up your ass." She whispers loudly.

"Yeah cause someone has to keep you from getting yourself killed, or worse, expelled!"

She snorts. "Really toots? Getting expelled is worse than getting killed?"

"The chances of getting expelled are higher with you, unfortunately."

She leans forward conspiratorially, a grin on her face. You don't notice yourself mirror her. "So come with me to break into his office, so I don't get expelled. Don't you want to read all those rune books? He doesn't even keep track of what gets taken out of there."

"Then why don't you just borrow them during lab hours?"

"What fun is that?"

"Jinx!"

"We'll be quick, five minutes, tops. And you'll have your dumb rune books." You grit your teeth. On one hand, You could just ask her to teach you what she knows. But you've known her—Other You!—your whole life, so you're a hundred percent sure that you'd have to pry that information out of her cold, dead, hands. On the other, Jayce's head was so far up in his own ass that Jinx was probably correct in saying he wouldn't notice any missing books.

I also don't know when I'll be yanked into another universe. There was also that.

"How sure are you that you can get us in and out that fast?"

"A million percent. Dude forgets to lock the door sometimes." She's already standing up and shoving all of your notes into your book bag, your eye twitches just the tiniest bit, before your head snaps up to look at her.

"How do you know that?" You ask as you start carrying the books to the book trolley.

"You're asking too many questions here. Less talking, more walking. Go, go, go." She ushers you out into the hallway, and the both of you start walking towards the east wing of the academy. The sun had already set, so there were much less students loitering. Still, the both of you err on the side of caution and stick to the lesser used hallways where the custodians had already turned off the lights.

You eventually find your way to the front of Jayce's lab, and Jinx wastes no time kneeling on front of the door and pulling out what looked like tools and shoving them into the door knob. This is definitely not her first breaking and entering.

"Where the hell did you get lockpicks?!" You do your best to keep your voice down, the allure of learning about runes slowly dissipating, panic replacing it.

"What did I say about less talking?" She whips around and raises her eyebrows at you, right as she turns the doorknob and opens the previously locked door.

"We're so fucked."

"You know, if we weren't stretched for time, I'd be celebrating you breaking your curse word quota for the day." She yanks her tools out of the door knob, and pushes you into the lab.

The room is nearly pitch black. Thankfully, the unlit hallways were enough for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. The low light from the moon streaming through the windows the only thing helping with your vision. Somehow, Jinx is able to navigate just fine.

"Okay, how often do you actually break in here?"

"How often is underground robot fight club again?" Robot fight club. The only thing Jinx is willing to wake up early for. Wait a second—

"Jinx!" You don't bother lowering your voice. Hoping that the closed room would be enough to muffle any sounds from coming into the hallway.

"What?"

"That's twice a week!"

"Where did you think we were getting our parts?"

"You said you knew a guy!"

"Clearly." She gestures around the room, where there were plenty of scattered machinery parts. Your face pales slightly; this Jinx was going to get You expelled, surely.

"You made me an accessory!"

"And now you're committing the crime. Congratulations, you've been promoted." She opens another door and theatrically gestures at the room. "Your little rune books await, oh great stuck-up one."

You roll your eyes at her and enter the room without any fanfare. Immediately you see that the all four walls of the room are lined with bookshelves as high as the ceiling. In the middle, a large wooden table with charts and books scattered across. Jinx stops next to you and nudges you with her shoulders. "Told 'ya. Worth the risk, right?"

"That's still up in the air."

She scoffs. "You totally think it is."

You don't want to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but you don't even notice that you're grinning back at her until she puts an arm around your shoulders and waves her hand flippantly at the shelves. Other You's stomach does a backflip.

No. Absolutely not.

"So what are we looking for?"

You once again quash whatever physical reaction you're having. Now was definitely not the time. You walk out of her arm's reach and resort to looking around the spines of the books, already trying to spot their titles. "Wild runes."

There's a beat of silence before you hear her walking around the carpeted floor. "Wild runes huh? Yeah, I think I've seen a few of those around. Don't think I read them, though."

"That's fine." You start rifling around the shelves. Reading through anything that looked promising.

Jinx is the first to break the silence. She usually is. "So what are these books for, again?"

"I told you, supplementary reading. Also there isn't much to read on out ethics class so might as well fill my time with something fun."

Jinx doesn't reply, and you're happy to keep on reading through your books until you get a nagging feeling that you've just done something wrong.

You turn around to look at Jinx, who was plopped down on the floor and half-heartedly pulling books out, before seemingly placing them somewhere else at random. You mentally kick yourself when you notice that her shoulders are slumped. Opting to put the book search on hold, you walk over to her, hesitating for a moment before sitting down next to her.

"You know you can tell me stuff, right?" Her voice is quiet, and it's unsettling that you have the sudden urge to comfort her.

Yes, yes of course. This version of you felt completely at ease with Jinx. But you can't afford to be distracted by affection that wasn't even yours to begin with. If only you could explain that you've been universe-hopping and that in every single one of them you were in love or falling in love with her, and that you were trying to at least stall in this one so you could get as much information as you could before you got dragged into a different timeline again.

You can't, not really. But you know better than to try to lie to her.

"I think there might be another side to Hex Tech that we haven't discovered yet."

She stops rearranging the books and turns to you slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Like... Equal and opposite reactions."

"You think Hex Tech might have negative effects?" You feel your guilt lift at the curious glint in her eyes as you nod.

"Something like that. It's just a theory, though. I don't have anything to back it up."

"Well," She stands up and heads over to a shelf at the far wall. Pulling out an old looking tome. "I think this is just the book you're looking for." She blows off dust from the cover, coughing lightly from the cloud that forms. You quickly stand up and walk toward her, looking over the tome.

My ticket home—

"I don't care if they think I'm hogging too many testing hours, my methods actually work."

The door in the other room slams shut, you and Jinx immediately crouch down and move to turn the light off. Your eyes barely have time to adjust before Jinx pulls you over to the window.

"Are you crazy? We're on the second floor!" You whisper as she tries to pry it open.

"Less talking, more helping." As if on cue, you hear ruffling near the door. Less talking, more helping.

You help Jinx open the window, one hand still clutching the tome. You pray to every God out there that Jayce actually won't realize he's missing a book. The both of you swing your legs over the edge, and you grab onto the wall, suddenly feeling very nauseous. Jinx on the other hand, is grinning like a maniac.

"Aim for the bushes."

"Aim for the wha—"

You're unable to finish your sentence as Jinx pushes you out the window. You were wrong, the chances of getting killed might actually be higher than getting expelled.

While this was the first time Other You was getting pushed out of a window, this was fortunately—and sadly—not your first. Your instincts kick in and you're able to land on your feet, using the momentum to tuck and roll safely on the ground. All with the tome still clutched on one hand.

You're about to give Jinx a piece of your mind when she mouths catch me and you panic and free up your hands, just in time for her to land right into your arms. Sadly, however, strength doesn't carry over between universes as well as technique. Your knees buckle and you fall backwards. You barely have time to recover before Jinx is tucking the tome under her arm and pulling you up to your feet, already running away from the building.

You follow suit, quickly discovering that cardio was also not transferrable between timelines. Still, you keep running until your legs are burning and you see the dorms come into view, only stopping once you're both safely hidden at its side entrance.

You somehow beat Jinx to the door, your hands on your knees as your chest heaves. She comes to a stop right next to you. Planting a hand on your shoulder and using you for support.

"That was—"

"Fucking stupid."

She slaps your shoulder and laughs, commenting about how she likes this new, cussing, version of you. You take a second to compose yourself, huffing before standing to your full height, ready to give her a piece of your mind. Instead you stop short, your faces only a few inches apart. Thankfully, she seems just as surprised at the proximity, enough that she drops the infuriating grin on her face.

Her eyes flit to your lips, then to your eyes. A pointed look in hers. A challenge more than an invitation, really.

Your mind goes haywire.

There are many, many—actually so many—reasons why you should not, at all, kiss Jinx. Different timeline or not, you, specifically you, cannot do it. It would be the greatest betrayal to your people, your friends, everyone you know and love, your moral code, your promise to take down Silco's empire and clean the Undercity, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Jayce; have you mentioned your friends?

A tug at the front of your shirt, her biting her lip to stop a smile that reaches her eyes anyway, and your resolve begins to slip.

You can feel her breath on your lips.

"Stop thinking."

You will swear on your grave that it's the Other You that grabs her and closes the gap.

-----

Ninety-five

Timelines can have profound disparities from each other, but they could also have nearly miniscule, insignificant ones as well. This means that you could jump from one timeline where you were wearing a blue shirt, then a red one in the next, with everything else staying the same. Be a firelight in one, and next thing you know, you're an enforcer.

Sometimes, the big and small changes can mix things up. While they haven't been a huge inconvenience to you in the past—present, future?���they sure as hell were now.

Exhibit A: You're an enforcer.

Exhibit B: You're thrown into the mix on the day of the bridge explosion.

Exhibit C: Instead using a chomper to blow herself up, Jinx rigs the underside of the middle of the bridge with explosives.

At this point, ninety-five jumps in, you should really learn to be more vigilant when it comes to tackling unpredictable situations. Not that you can fully put yourself at fault, of course. You just wanted to make sure Ekko and his friends survived.

…And arrest Jinx so she didn't blow herself up. Then nothing else!

So why the hell am I lugging an unconscious Jinx into my apartment? You wonder as you set Jinx down on your bed. The panic and anxiety of the Other You understandably building up, seeing as she and Jinx haven't met yet. That and you're an enforcer harboring a wanted fugitive. And she killed Other You's friends, so the grief and anger are really making things confusing.

You roll Jinx onto her back, checking to see if she has any injuries. There's a deep cut on her side—courtesy of you while you were fighting—but nothing you couldn't stitch up yourself. Granted she doesn't wake up and shoot you, first.

Lumbering over to your bathroom where you kept your first aid kit, you flip the lights on. There's a semi-concerning pool of red on the front of your jacket, and your undershirt. You turn to the mirror, and spot what looks like a gash right under your breast. No big deal, it'll stop bleeding on its own. Must've been a sharp part of the bridge that nicked you as it collapsed, or maybe you cut yourself while fishing yourself and Jinx out of the harbor. Something I can fix later.

You grab a chair and settle on the side of your bed, taking out your suturing kit and disinfecting your hands. This shouldn't take too long, but that was never the problem. The problem was what would happen after Jinx wakes up.

You initially thought of just taking her to her hideout, but you ran the risk of running into Silco's people. While you could've just left at the docks—well, you don't really have a reason to not have left her at the docks, now do you?

You shake the thought out of your mind and get to work on closing the cut. It wasn't bleeding as much, but leaving it alone could get it infected, plus it would take forever to close.

Not that I care. You futilely tell yourself. As if saving her from dying, carrying her back to your home, and stitching up her wounds were normal activities between an enforcer and a fugitive—a fugitive of your creation!—on any given day. You weren't even originally planning on stopping her from dying. You know she comes back, pumped full of shimmer and allegedly a thousand times faster. Your only concern was getting Ekko to safety, but then one thing led to another, and you had your gun pointed at her as you were telling her she was under arrest. Everything should have worked out fine, if only the bridge didn't blow up.

Once her cut's been stitched up, and you change the bandage on an injury on her leg. You do a once over to check if she has any other life-threatening ailments. Once you deem that there are none, you decide change into a clean set of clothing. After slapping on a bandage over your cut—also bleeding a lot less—and putting on a sweater, your eye catches the mark the wild rune left on your forearm. You're reminded about another discovery you made: The mark was slowly fading.

You hypothesize that it had something to do with the number of times you were jumping through timelines. Did that make it a timer? Or was it a limited number of lives that was counting down to zero? And what does that mean when it runs out? Will you be stuck in that timeline forever? Or will it return you back home?

Learning about Hex Tech and runes was proving to be difficult jumping around to different timelines every few days. You'd have to pick up right where you left off every jump, and even then your access to resources was limited depending on the timeline. Not that you were making any progress, anyway. You were convinced that you needed to be a proper magic user before you could make sense of what you were learning.

You put your first aid kit away and head back into your room. It's not without difficulty, as you feel the adrenaline rush you had back at the bridge slowly ebb away; you're surprised it even lasted this long in the first place. But now you needed to rest a hand against your dresser for support, a feeling of lightheadedness starting to take over. Staying steady was actually becoming a bit difficult.

The hand you're using for support shifts to the side, as you struggle with your balance, and tips over a small container. The familiar rattling of pills catches your attention. You pick up the bottle and rattle it again before reading the label. A nagging feeling at the back of your mind is telling you that you've forgotten about something.

...Iron supplements. It read.

Uh oh.

"Fuck"

You suddenly feel like the best course of action is to close your eyes for a bit and sit on the floor to collect yourself, as you vaguely register the pill bottle clattering onto the ground.

Five seconds. That's all you need and you'll be back in tip top shape.

One.

Two.

Three.

A weight on your stomach, pushing out all the air you're trying to breathe in.

Four--

Click.

Your eyes open blearily, barely registering the barrel of a gun right in front of your eyes. Your gun, in fact. Panic and dread start to fill your senses, and for the first time since you hopped into this plane of existence, you agree with Other You's

feelings. If this was any of the preceding timelines, you would've been confident that Jinx wouldn't harm a hair on your head.

But not in this one.

You look past your gun and spot blue eyes staring at you. Some of the panic you feel dwindle when you see the curious look in her eyes—you can read her like a book at this point—and the slack of her grip on the gun. At least she isn't planning on shooting you immediately.

"Hello." You croak out, your voice hoarse from sleep. Oh no, were you a mouth breather in this timeline too?

Her hold on the gun straightens; your attention is immediately rapt and trained only on her. "Silco got you in his pocket, or something?"

You hesitantly swallow. Saying yes to buy yourself time was certainly one way to do it, but on the off chance that this was a test, that was a one way ticket to getting a bullet in your cranium.

"No."

The tip of the gun leaves your vision for a second, but you're spared no relief when you feel it jammed under your jaw. Wrong answer, then.

She comes into full view, sitting on your stomach—so that's why you couldn't breathe—boots on either side of your chest. "So what, you some kind of sicko? Saving poor 'ol me, patching me up? Or are you one of those delusional Pilties that think you can save some misunderstood girl from the Undercity?" Her head tilts to the side, a lilt in her voice as she says the last part.

"No." You struggle to get the next words out. "I swear." Your hand ball into fists as she jams the gun in deeper. Wait a second, my hands are free. I can take her do—no. No. I am not going to escalate the situation.

An oversight, or a challenge?

"You had a clear shot at me, you didn't shoot. I try to blow you up, you fish me out of the harbor and stitch up my wounds." Your eyes flit to her bandaged side She leans her face closer to yours. "Why?"

Well you see, I think we're kind of made for each other. You're tempted to say, but you doubt she's in any state to believe you. In any case, you'll actually come across as some sicko. Not that Other You would have shot her, either. You could feel the hesitation on her end when you had the gun trained on Jinx. If Marcus hadn't pulled his gun on Kiramman, she might have, but she thankfully had some sense of justice, and seeing the sheriff's true colors come out was enough to view everything with more scrutiny.

You have an inkling feeling that Other You would still end in the situation you're currently in. One way or another.

"I…I don't kno—"

"Liar!" The butt of your pistol connects with your temple, and you're nearly knocked out again. The room spins, and you're barely able to focus on Jinx again before her nails are digging into the skin on your cheeks, forcing you to face her. There's frustration written all over her face, but you know that she's just trying to make sense of the situation, if her shaking hand is any indication. Your fault, really, Other You is confused as hell, too.

She moves a foot back, and shifts so that her knee is carrying her weight—you're half thankful that it's not on your stomach anymore—as she leans forward. Her face closer now.

Your eyes focus back on hers. A mix of emotions swimming on those pools of blue; frustration, hostility, anger. But you also see panic, vulnerability, regret, and confusion. Her grip on you face loosens marginally. And then it hits you.

She didn't want to hurt you.

One thing constant in every timeline that you've been to, is the almost magnetic pull you felt towards her; the need to always have her in near proximity, and the sense of calm that would come over you if she was. And try as you might, you couldn't ignore the wave of affection that you would feel while you were with her.

Is it possible she feels this as well?

It's a risky thing to test, especially since you didn't know what would happen to you if Other You died. But it is kind of your own doing at this point.

You say nothing, hoping that she'll fill in the silence.

Her hand continues to shake, but you can tell that her anger is already wavering. You almost miss her asking you why again, she probably meant to keep it to herself.

"I don't want to hurt you either."

Risky. But you don't have a lot of options left.

She lets out a breath at your words, the gun retracts.

"Who are you?" Her voice is quiet, unsure.

Your soulmate, apparently. "Nobody." You answer semi-honestly. You were, technically, she hasn't had the chance to know you in this timeline yet.

She shakes her head and looks away. "No you're not." The softness of her tone catches you off guard. Her hand moving away from your cheek to clutch the collar of your sweater, doubly so. "You…you're familiar."

"Like we already know each other." Her eyes meet yours again, the surprise in them evident. She said those same words to you in a few past timelines. You always thought they were just little variations in those particular versions of her, but now…this just supports your hypothesis that she also cycles through the same sensations you do.

Your eye catches a faint streak of light manages to slip through your closed curtains, providing a miniscule amount of light into your dark room. "It's morning." You muse out loud, looking back at the still speechless girl on top of you. "Enforcers are going to be everywhere. You need to get out of here."

Her sense of urgency is seemingly stirred by your words, and she pulls you up along with her. Confusion still litters her features, you hope the smile you offer her is enough for comfort.

"Can you walk okay?" her mouth opens and closes a few times, still at a loss for words. You decide to push your luck, slowly reaching a hand over to touch her free arm. "Jinx."

Her brows furrow. The question of your knowledge of her name accusingly reflected in her eyes.

"I heard Kiramman say it, at the bridge." Thank goodness she actually did. Otherwise, this would've been very confusing for Other You in the future.

"I—" She starts. "I have to go."

You nod. "There's a fire escape out the bathroom window. Hold on—" You go to your dresser and pull out a hooded coat, moving to drape it over her, only to stop short when her shoulder tenses. Her eyes are trained on you, a slight air of hostility between them. You don't push to put on the coat, but you don't lower your arm either; waiting for her make the decision for you.

Her eyes flit around the room, seemingly trying to find her words around your home. She lets out a sigh, her shoulders drooping slightly. You take this as a positive sign, and gently place the coat over her shoulders. You see her hand tense around your gun, not in a threatening way, instinctively.

You slowly back away from her to give her space. She looks away from you as she slips her free hand into one of the sleeves, before grabbing the gun and slipper her other arm into the remaining sleeve. It's a little big on her, but the size and the addition of the hood is enough to hide anything that could immediately identify her.

There's uncertainty in her eyes when she looks back at you; she hesitantly lifts the hand holding the gun, the barrel clutched in her hand. "This is yours."

You shake your head. "As much as I hate to say this, you might need it."

She mutters an oh before holstering the gun in her hip. You gesture to an open door and lead her into the bathroom, pulling the window open and checking if there was anyone in the alley below. The sun was slowly but surely rising, it's rays already illuminating the dim streets in the main road.

"Coast is clear, stick to the alleys and you should be fine." You stand aside and let her climb out, her hand resting on the windowsill. The look she gives you tells you that she's trying to find an ounce of deception in your features. But she won't find any, not when it concerns her, not ever.

"I'll…I'll get you your gun back."

"Don't worry about it." You shrug. "I'll find you."

You see the ghost of a smile on her lips as she turns around and climbs down the ladder, disappearing into an adjacent alleyway.

"I always seem to find you." You mutter to yourself.

-----

One Hundred Sixty-Eight

The familiar smell of grease and burnt metal fills your nose as you enter your old workshop. Jayce had been kind enough to hand you the keys after you had asked if you could see the old place. Don't go too crazy he said. You rolled your eyes at his comment, of course. It wasn't as if you were going to steal anything as a souvenir; maybe draw something inappropriate on a whiteboard, sure. But as you drew closer to the lab, you spotted Jinx's car, and well, now you were going there for two reasons. You should have just turned around and not indulged Other You's—not yours!—thoughts. The length of time you spent in each timeline was getting longer on average, and you had to make the best of it while you could, especially with the mark slowly fading with each pass.

You walk towards the wall of the shared space, everything was still as messy as you—Other You—remembered. Diagrams and papers still littered table tops, probably permanent coffee stains on tables. But the hanging photos were new.

The first one was of Viktor and Jayce when they first started working on Hextech, just two young adults that barely knew what they were doing. The second one was of you three right after they had officially hired you. The third one was Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, and Jinx. Your eyes stray back to the middle photo, the one with you in it. The moment felt like lifetimes ago.

It's strange, looking at the person cheekily smiling back at you, already older than you in your original timeline. This body felt terribly tired, like the Other You here went through the ringer trying to get here.

The sound of a chair screeching and shuffling around one of the rooms grabs your attention. Your eyebrows furrow. Jayce didn't say anything about someone else being here, especially nearing midnight. You cautiously make your way to the room, trying not to make too much noise in case they'll think you're an intruder. The door is ajar, letting light seep through the darker main floor. There's a pull in your chest again, and you're reminded of your second objective here. Other You had wanted to speak to Jinx earlier, but couldn't because there was a line of other people that wanted your attention. By the time you broke free from the others, Jinx had already left.

A familiar warmth fills your chest. It looked like she had gone straight back to work after the party, still in her dress, heels discarded on the side, twirling a pencil as she looked over notes. Her headphones were on, and the couch she was lounging on was turned away from the door, so you doubt she'd hear or see you moving around.

You open the door fully and lean against the frame, deciding to wait until she notices you standing there. Not like you'd go unnoticed long, she probably felt the tugging too.

It's not even a minute before she stops what she's doing and turns around. There's a split second where surprise crosses her features, but she quickly recovers, raising an eyebrow at you instead.

"Come crawling back to the slums have we?" She says as she takes off her headphones and leaves it at her neck. She wears her hair down nowadays. It's also shorter here, only reaching the middle of her back. It's refreshing to see, and you find yourself brushing off the question of whether or not the older Jinx in your timeline would cut her hair the same one day.

"Something like that."

She scoffs, turning back to look at her work. Her words are friendly, but there's tension in the air. You're not sure if you should move into the room, or leave.

"Don't stand there like a creep, come sit." She pats the space next to her. There's no edge to her words either, so maybe the tension is coming from you. You're aware that there's a significant amount of history between her and Other You, but you're not sure whether this is the time or place to be settling past issues. What you do know, is that you shouldn't wait any longer before sitting down next to her.

There's a metal box in the coffee table in front of you, next to where Jinx has propped up her legs. "It's a prototype for a gemstone case." She says before you can ask. She takes the small box and twirls it in her hand, small prongs are protruding on the inside. "The goal is to make sure the gemstones only work if they're in these. So we can start using them for the more dangerous jobs around here; stop people from stealing them, since you have to break the case to get the stone."

You take the box when she offers it, testing the weight of it in your hands. "Did you go straight here after the party?"

"Not much to do there for me." She shrugs. "I'd rather work on this. Besides, you went here after the party, too."

"Fair point." You set the case back down on the table, and watch Jinx place it on a small stand to the side. "You work until midnight often?"

The corners of her lips quirk into a smile. "Talis is drowning in debt with the amount of overtime he has to pay me." You're about to laugh along with her, till you remember Jayce's comment earlier. Jayce you little—

She nudges you with her shoulder. "You're thinking again, that can't be good."

"Jayce."

"What about him?"

"Some dumb comment he said earlier when he gave me the keys to here."

"Oh?" A mischievous look in her eyes. "What did my boss say, exactly?" You grimace. This isn't fair, she fully knows Jayce said something completely out of pocket.

"Nothing."

"Bull. Tell me so I can take it out of context and bully him into giving me a raise." At this comment you actually laugh. You don't doubt that Jinx has probably done that at least once already. Jayce's tendency to say things without thinking is the worst thing to have when working with someone like Jinx.

"Tell me." She nudges you again, this time with a little more force. "Or else."

"Or else what?"

"I'll kick your ass." Just like that, the tension in the air lifts. You remember the times this version of yourself was at odds with Jinx, only to make up after spending a few minutes together. It's terrifyingly so easy, how fast she can disarm you—literally and figuratively—like it's nothing. How she beckons you over and you oblige with desperate speed. But Other You isn't as experienced in resisting Jinx's charms—ie your souls being tied together, apparently—so you still have the audacity to push her buttons.

"Aren't you too old to be threatening to kick people's asses?" She leans back, mouth agape, you snort at her expression, but the entertainment is short lived as a throw pillow connects with your face. You huff, genuinely surprised that she'd hit you. She throws her head back and barks out a laugh at your expression.

"Can't believe you're still a brat at thirty."

"Watch it, buster. You're the same age as me."

"You know what they say about growing up being a choice." You duck this time when she swings, grabbing the throw pillow next to you and decking her in the face with it. For a second you think that you hit her too hard—and these throw pillows were notorious for being harder than regular pillows—but the second you drop the one in your hand, she tackles you.

You're momentarily disoriented as your back lands on the seat. Jinx hits you a few more times, before she pins you down with the pillow, legs on either side of your waist, chest heaving. You sink further into the couch as she leans in close.

"Take that back."

The logical side of you knows that you should just say sorry, but the prideful side of you refuses to relent. "Which part? Growing up being a choice, or you being a bra—" The pillow thuds against your face. "Ow! Hey! Those things hurt."

You sit up to grab her wrists before she can land another blow. She pushes you in response, getting herself pulled down with you in the process. You lean a bit to side to stop your heads from hitting each other, Jinx pressing flush against you. The last thing Jayce needed was one of his employees getting a concussion because of a pillow fight. Though, you could use that as an excuse to get rid of the old throw pillows, but that would come with the price humiliation for you and Jinx. Not to mention relentless teasing from your other friends.

You shake your head at the train of thought. You were thinking too much about this, you really should have just turned around earlier.

The sound of her laughter brings you out of your musings. The way her chest rumbled with each breath. She rests her head in the crook of your neck, it doesn't even occur to you that you've let go of her hands, instead moving your them to her back and keeping her close—so she doesn't roll off and hurt herself, of course.

You yourself were out of breath, and probably flushed—because you were getting older and tire easy, nothing else!—as you felt yourself laughing with her.

When she lifts her head to look at you, she makes sure that she's still close enough that her lips brush against your jaw. The both of you know it's a proven and effective way for your mind to go blank, for you to focus solely on her. You keep telling yourself you be able to resist it, eventually. You never do.

The logical part of your brain once again reminds you that it's not a good idea to be this close, to prolong the time you two are in close proximity to each other. That you need to prioritize finding a way home, that there are people that depend on you and that this is irresponsible behavior. But for some reason, you find yourself not wanting to listen for once.

Maybe it's just because your souls might be tied to each other. Maybe it's because you spent the last one hundred sixty-seven timelines watching other versions of yourself being in love or falling in love with her. Maybe it's because of the Other You here, and her relationship with this Jinx. The both of you are older in this timeline, you've known each other longer, know each other better, seen each other grow together and apart, only to find your way back to her, over and over again.

It's not just that, though.

It's the softness in her eyes whenever she looks at you, the way she brushes your hair out of your face. It's every time she checks on you if she senses that you're not alright. It's her knowing what you want to say before you say anything. How immersed she gets in her work, drowning out the rest of the world while she works on a project. Every morning that you've had to wake up next to her, watching her sleep peacefully. It's her temper, and how passionate she gets when arguing over something. It's finding her doodles and notes that she's left for you every single timeline. It's the urge to find her when you end up in a timeline where she isn't immediately by your side.

It's her, all one hundred sixty-eight versions of her, and every version after. Honestly, how many variations of yourself do you have to watch love this girl before you finally admit it to yourself?

Too many.

"Got something to say to me?" The corner of her eyes crinkle as she smirks at you.

It's how she knows you.

"I love you." You breathe out. She doesn't try to hide her surprise this time, or isn't able to. She blinks a few times, and you smile at the fact that it's her mind going haywire for once.

You take advantage of her being momentarily stunned, sitting up, keeping your hold on her so she actually doesn't fall over.  She instinctively grabs onto your shoulders for support.

"It's getting late." Her eyebrows furrow at your words.

"You just told me you love me, and now you're dipping?"

"I mean…You haven't answered, and I'm getting sleepy. Plus, the bed at the hotel I got is really ni—"

She doesn't let you finish as she yanks you into a kiss. You happily oblige, sighing and pulling her closer. Sadly, it doesn't last long as she breaks the kiss with a start, pushing your shoulders back when you try to chase after her lips.

"You really need to learn when to shut up sometimes." You take the hint and stay quiet, trying to bite back the smile already forming on your face. She rolls her eyes at your expression, having trouble hiding her own smile.

She doesn't need to say it back, not really. You understand that she hasn't seen Other You in a long time, and although the latter felt the same, your confession was more of a selfish move for yourself, really.

You can wait. As long as she wants, as long as she needs.

Her eyes flit back to your lips, before returning to your eyes. The mischievous glint returning.

"What's this about your hotel room having a nice bed?"

---

Two Hundred Fourteen

Meetings at the Firelight hideout weren't unusual.

In fact, a lot of your meetings with the group were often held here. Especially once Jinx had found out where you lived. So when you received a message from Ekko asking you to head over there because they had gotten a tip about a shipment of Shimmer, there were no alarm bells ringing in your head. A rookie mistake on your part, really.

To be completely fair, you had taken advantage of the two months you were here. You've never stayed anywhere over ten days, and the fact that you still had some semblance of the mark on your forearm meant that you were still going to get pulled into a different timeline at some point. But in the meantime, you started tinkering with equipment you could use to build your own Hex gate. The only thing missing was a gemstone.

Also in order to be completely fair. You were busy with Jinx, who you were slowly trying to convince to leave Silco's employ entirely. Which was a complicated thing to tackle, because you were an independent contractor that often worked with the Firelights. This meant that when she started showing up to your home unannounced, you had to switch up your dead drops and meet up points with the group, if only to keep the peace while maintaining your most consistent client.

And now you're in this predicament.

Surrounded by Firelights, plus Vi and Caitlyn.

You had hoped, foolishly, that this was as similar to your timeline as it was gonna get, at least with the limited amount of jumps you probably had left. You were lucky enough that Other You here and Jinx had met previously, and already kickstarted the inevitable chain of events that would have brought them together. You thought you had time before Vi and Jinx would meet, which was due in a few days from now.

You thought a lot of things, but at the end of the day, that was all they were. Two Hundred timelines in, and you still had trouble dealing with unpredictable situations.

"Piltover is one bad day away from sending enforcers to find Jinx."

"Damn, I hope they find her, then." Ekko groans, clearly not in the mood for the clueless act. Caitlyn steps forward a bit too abruptly, you draw your gun, everybody draws their weapons. Caitlyn glares at you, daring you to make the first move. You're a good shot yourself, but you know from past experience that there was no way you'd beat her in a gunfight.

"Hey—hey! Easy!" Vi gets between all of you, arms up, trying to lessen the tension. Ekko nods at his people—your people—and they lower their weapons. You shake your head for a second, before lowering yours. Other You was being protective and reckless, you had to control yourself. The last thing you want to do is hurt your people.

Caitlyn keeps her rifle trained on you, you maintain your glare towards her until she puts her gun down. "This is pointless." She looks towards Vi. "I say arrest her, and lure Jinx out."

"Can't arrest me if you're out of a job." Caitlyn narrows her eyes at your response. Fuck, wasn't supposed to know that.

"What, you think I don't have eyes and ears topside?" You're fairly sure that she'll buy your bluff, purely because there's no other explanation for you to know that. Thankfully Vi calls for everyone's attention.

"Look, we won't get anywhere arguing." She looks over to you, a silent plea in her eyes. You feel terrible about all of this, of course. You know she's just trying to find her sister after years of being locked up unfairly, in Stillwater no less!

"I know you care about her, and that you're the reason she's been quiet the last few months." It takes a bit of effort to keep your face neutral, your mind already working to figure out just how exactly they knew about you and Jinx. Had you become careless these past few months? Was she careless?

She moves a bit closer to you, arms in a placating gesture. "But if she doesn't return the gemstone, or worse, Silco gets his grimy hands on it, then Piltover will flood the streets with enforcers, and it'll be another civil war."

You wish you could tell them that Piltover wouldn't be able to handle the Undercity now, not with shimmer already being weaponized.

"I don't know where she is." You answer truthfully. As close as you two were these last couple of months, you didn't make it a point to know her whereabouts at every single hour of the day.

Caitlyn interjects. "Six enforcers are dead because of her, even more people wounded. Are you really going to protect someone who was willing to kill so many people in cold blood?" She makes a move to grab you, but Vi holds her back. Your jaw clenches. You thought you had swayed her enough that she wouldn't have gone through with the Progress Day attack.

Vi looks over to Ekko, who has mercifully stayed quiet. There's a disappointed look on his face, either for your involvement with Jinx, or your indirect betrayal on the Firelights, you're not sure. He nods over to the other FIrelights, who all lunge at you.

You try to fight back, easily sidestepping to avoid the first person to lunge, then using their momentum to launch them into the next person. A third person tries to hit you with their club, and you narrowly duck under their swing, springing to push them off their feet, and make your way to the door. On any other day, this would've been a fun sparring session, but sadly it wasn't any other day. And this was quickly becoming a one-on-seven fight.

Ekko grabs you from behind and bear hugs you. You feel the air being pushed out of your lungs as you struggle out of his grip. You drop to your knees, using his temporary loss of balance as leverage, and swing your body forward, he stumbles enough that his grip loosens, and you throw the rest of him over your shoulders. You turn around to make your way to the door again, before a fist connects right on your jaw. That's right, Vi is here, too

You quickly fall to your knees, the room is already spinning. you pitifully try to maintain your balance while on all fours, hanging onto a nearby chair for support. Two people grab you by the arms and begin to drag you away, you try to pull your arms free, but are met with a kick to the gut. You relent, letting them drag you into a dark room.

Their version of a holding cell, tying you down and taking your holsters and your coat. You're still a bit disoriented, but you're lucid enough to recognize Ekko's shadow when he approaches you.

"I'm sorry it has to come to this," He starts. "But if Silco gets his hands on Hextech, the Undercity will lose a lot more people. Good people."

You feel your chest ache at his words. You've been fighting for the Undercity your entire life, that's the last thing you want. But never in a million lifetimes would you betray Jinx. "You have to let me find her, Ekko." You plead.

"I can't trust your judgment on this."

"Try." He purses his lips, for a second you think he'll let you go. You weren't as close her as you were in your timeline, but you hope that your reliability in this one is enough to convince him.

He sighs, and the spark of hope you have is snuffed out. "This is for the best." He stands up and leaves the room, two guards replacing him.

Normally, you would be flattered. Two people guarding you even though you were already unarmed, and it doesn't even look like they're changing shifts soon. They don't take your eyes off of you either, so you pass the time counting the seconds. They probably already left to go find Jinx, which meant you had to give them at least a half hour head start before you could try to escape.

The minutes pass by quickly, and once you're nearing the thirty minute mark, you start prepping your escape plan.

They took away your coat and your holster with your weapons, but they didn't take away your belt. Which was a good thing because you actually needed it to pull your baggy pants up, but also because you had jammed a blade in between the leather. A knife was also welded into the buckle, built to quick release with the push of a button.

You carefully start to pry the blade out of the leather, being mindful not to cut yourself. You successfully get your knife out, quietly cutting your hands free. your next order of business was your feet. You'd have to time it with taking out both guards, who were both about six steps away from you. If you were lucky, you'd be fast enough to cut your feet loose and take them down at the same time.

You hedge your bets on yourself, and quickly lunge forward, cutting your feet loose in one swift motion. Both guards stand up, and you toss your knife just close enough to one of them that they freeze. You grab your other knife from your buckle, meeting the one still running towards you halfway. You slide downwards, jamming the butt of the knife into his knee, then following up by clocking him in the jaw with it as soon as he falls down. The one that was momentarily stunned launches himself at you, but you expertly roll out of the way and jump from behind him, putting him in a headlock. You tighten your hold, hoping to knock him out quickly. He struggles for a few moments, before his arms go limp, and you let him fall to the floor.

"Not bad." You say to yourself, impressed. You take the keys off of them and their mask, hoping it'll help you sneak out. Thankfully, you find that your stuff is just in the next room, and you hastily put your gear back on before sneaking out to find Jinx.

She wasn't in any of her usual haunts, or any of your haunts for that matter. You realized halfway through your search that she was avoiding you as well. It made sense; you had gotten her to stop with the over the top antics for Silco, and you were sure she knew that you didn't want her to continue working for him anymore. So this… whatever this was, you were probably not supposed to find out. Unfortunately for her, you're keenly aware of at least some of the events about to transpire. Which meant you didn't have a lot of time left; maybe the timeline of events was sped up somehow? The butterfly effect tended to go crazy, who knows what got kicked into gear when you showed up here?

You're halfway to giving up and going straight to Silco when you catch sight of blue smoke come off of one of the taller buildings in The Lanes. A flare?

"She told me that if I lit this up, she'd find me."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere. She promised."

Your feet are already kicking the ground before you even register it.

She had to have heard about Vi being back. How the hell did you forget? The most important thing you didn't take into consideration before running around the Undercity like a headless chicken. Of course she would find out. If they had met Ekko this soon, that would've meant that this timeline had an entirely different flow from yours.

So much for considering variations in the timelines.

The entrance to the old building is bolted shut, so you start climb up pipes and rooftops, anything to get there before the others did. Your arms were burning, but you sure as hell preferred that than having to fend off Vi and the others if they got there first. From the last time this happened, Jinx did not have the best reaction.

You're barely able to shout her name once you get half onto the roof, but you push yourself up and run towards her, swatting the flare out of her hands. Her shock lasts only a second before she rams you in the stomach with Pow-pow. It only occurs to you now that you're still wearing a firelight mask.

"It's me, it's me!" She recognizes your voice before you can even take off the mask. Her hostility quickly dissipates, before being replaces with hesitation.

"I—What are you doing here?" Her tone is accusatory, but it's only half meant. You know she's nervous because she thinks you haven't heard about the Progress Day explosion. You pull her into a hug, hoping to provide some comfort, if any, to make sure she doesn't have a panic attack.

"I'll explain later, okay?" You say as you pull back, cupping her cheeks. "We need to get out of here."

There's a smidgen of doubt at the back of your mind that she'll go with you, but thankfully, she nods as you lead her off of the roof.

The both of you head to her hideout. Not the safest place to go to, but your house was definitely the worse option. You're not even there for a minute before you start questioning her.

"Did Silco ask you to do this?" You say as you set down Pow-Pow on a table. She looks away from you, the shame on her face evident. Your gaze softens at the sight, and you remind yourself that this is Silco's fault, not hers.

"Hey," You walk over to her and gently turn her chin to look at you. "You don't have to go through with what he has planned, alright? I'll return the gemstone, Tell them I found it rolling around in an alleyway."

Fear flashes across her features. "I can't." She pushes herself away from you. "I need to finish what he asked me to do. Then we can…"

You're tempted to reach out a hand and hold her, but you stop yourself short, afraid that you'll scare her away. "What is he asking you to do? I'll do it, just…don't go back to doing the dirty work."

She smiles at you sadly. "He wants me to build something with it." Her launcher.

"Jinx." There's a sudden urgency in your voice that catches her off guard. She doesn't know what'll happen if she makes it, but you do. You know who dies, and what happens because of it.

It's instant, how she recognizes what you want to say, just by looking at you. She walks back over to you and pulls you close, until your foreheads are touching. "It'll be okay."

There's a sincerity in her eyes that nearly convinces you. If you hadn't brought with you the knowledge from your own timeline. Your chest aches for her, how sure she is that things will be fine. "We can just drop this, Jinx." You say softly. She shakes her head.

"No. I can't."

"Why not?" There's a storm brewing behind her eyes. You know she doesn't want to do this. Maybe if you just—

"You just have to trust me."

"I do trust you." You pull away from her, ignoring the instant guilt you feel when you see the hurt flash across her face. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, your hand rubbing the side of your brow. "It's Silco I don't trust! We can just toss the stone into the harbor and call it quits—"

"I told you, I can't!"

"Why?!"

"Because I can't risk it!" Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. It takes you a few seconds, silence stretching between the both of you, before it dawns on you.

She was doing this for you.

You shake your head. "No. You are not going to do something you don't want to because of me."

She smiles at you sadly. She wasn't going to budge.

A lightheadedness starts to come over you, and you grab onto the desk for support. All of those timeline you had to go through, only for you to cause one to go through the same path yours did. No, you can't let it happen here. There has to be some way to stop all of this.

A pair of arms grab onto yours, grounding you. "Easy there, jelly legs."

You look up at concerned blue eyes, and a thought occurs to you.

"What if we leave?"

She blinks, taken aback by your question. "What?"

"Leave. Start over. Away from the undercity, from Piltover, everything."

"We can't just leave." She tries to look away from you, but you lean towards her.

"What's stopping us? I can get us an airship. Didn't you say you always wanted to ride one of those things?" For a second, you see hope in her eyes. You want to think that she's imagining a simpler life with you—Other You, you quickly remind yourself—away from everything that's ever caused the both of you pain.

And then It's gone, and she backs away from you. "You should go." She turns away from you, idly looking at her notes.

Anything she wants, anything she needs. Your jaw clenches, but you're dead set on this solution. It's the only way to keep everyone alive in this.

"Tomorrow, at the docks. I'll have an airship ready."  

Tomorrow couldn't come sooner.

It could, actually. Because the time between you leaving Jinx's hideout and waiting on your newly acquired airship seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. And now you were pacing around the outside, waiting for her to show up.

You shouldn't be this nervous, you know she'll show up. It's nearly guaranteed that she'll show up, nothing's stronger than the bond between the two of you. There's a slight pang of guilt as you consider that you took advantage of this, eliminating her choice in the matter entirely. But it'll be fine, this was the best way to avoid a war.

It isn't long before she shows up. She always does, but you feel the weight of the world lift off of your shoulders anyway. You waste no time running towards her and enveloping her in a hug. She holds you just as tight. You know how much she's leaving behind by agreeing to this, her whole life, her memories of her family, everything.

"We'll be okay." She whispers into your ear. You will be forever thankful for how well she can read you.

You pull away just far enough so you can plant a kiss on her forehead. "As much as I want hold you like this." You start. "You'd best get on the ship so I can untie it."

She chuckles a bit before pulling away—not before placing a chaste kiss on your lips—and disappears through the door. You move to hurriedly untie the cleats for the ship.

This is it. You're almost out.

"Stop!"

Almost out.

You whip around and see Ekko, along with some of your Firelight friends. You pull out your gun, absolutely loathing the possibility of having to use it on your own people. The thought of them harming Jinx does little to quell your inner turmoil.

"Just let us go, Ekko." You plead, pride thrown aside. "You and I both know it was Silco who put her up to it."

He shakes his head. "We can't do that. Not when Piltover is threatening to knock down our doors."

"So you're giving up one of your own?!"

"You think I don't understand what that means?" He steps closer to you. "Everything I've done was to help our own. Do you have any idea what it's like having to give up someone you grew up with, to save hundreds more?!"

"So don't give her up, let us leave!"

"She killed half a dozen people—"

"She had no choice!"

"Everyone has a choice!"

"You would've blown up a hundred enforcers if one of them threatened someone you loved!"

"It doesn't change what she did!"

"She only did it because Silco forced her to! Why hell aren't you going after him?" You lift your gun and point it at Ekko, who doesn't back down. All of your Firelight friends lift their own weapons, and you notice some of them gliding around in their hoverboards.

You always wondered what would happen if you died in a timeline.

Maybe it was time to test it out.

"Don't do this." There's hesitation in Ekko's eyes, but the both of you know that there's only one way left for this to end.

His eyes pull away from yours, moving to look at something just behind you.

You hear her call out your name, and you turn, oblige, anything for her.

She smiles at you, The softness in her eyes only reserved for you.

"I love you."

Dread seeps into your bones. There's no reason for her to say it with such finality. You know she loves you, she always does, she always will. You say it back just so she knows that you'll love her in every one, too.

"Take care of Vi for me, okay?" You nod dumbly and she turns around, walking back towards the airship.

The sound of a gunshot echoes across the docks, you think it's you who's been hit, the way the air is knocked out of your lungs, the way your ears start ringing, and everything goes numb.

"It's okay, you're okay, I've got you."

But it isn't you who falls limp onto the floor. It isn't your gun that clatters to the ground. It isn't you who's no longer breathing—not in this timeline.

“I was just starting to find you attractive.”

You stumble towards her, all but falling to your knees.

"Stop thinking."

Tears start to blur your vision as you try to reach for her hand.

"It's like we already know each other."

Your breath catches in your throat, you gently pry the Hextech gemstone from her fingers.

"I love you."

A sob escapes your lips. You can't let anyone see her like this.

"We'll be okay."

Your hands shake as you pull off your coat, draping it over her like a blanket.

You don't hear Ekko tell the Firelights to stand down. You don't hear him tell the Firelights to swear to silence.

You found Jinx before she could escape. You were the one who shot her. That was what they were going to tell everyone.

And you—you sit there, holding her hand, as everything else around you falls apart.

-----

Two hundred fifteen

"You need a top up for that, love?"

"No—" A shaky breath escapes your lips. "No, thank you."

How cruel must the gods be,

"Okay, you need anything else?"

To drag you through hell, then bring you back to the start?

"Love? You alright?"

The tears register a bit late, and you quickly wipe your eyes, meeting the concerned gaze of the man behind the bar.

Vander.

"Allergies." You blurt out. "They get pretty bad this time of year."

An eyebrow is raised, clearly doubting your poor excuse. You place your hands on your lap, safely out of his view, just so he doesn't see how much they're shaking.

"That so?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. It's taking everything you've got not to randomly break down at The Last Drop in the middle of the day.

"Yeah, yeah. I uh—I think I'll go blow my nose outside, actually."

"Hold on now—"

Whatever Vander says falls on deaf ears as you slide out of your chair, heading for the side door.

A wave of nausea starts blankets over you as you reach for the door and quickly step outside. You try to take a steadying breath, but there's a painful tightness in your chest, and all you can manage are a few stuttered gasps. Your vision starts to swim, legs collapsing from underneath you—the image of her blood spraying in the air replays in your mind—and you lean against the wall for support. Try as you might, a choked sob forces its way out of you. You clamp your hand over your mouth to keep your cries quiet, as your shoulders violently shake.

She died. Because of me. Because I was brash and reckless.

I shouldn't have tried to run.

I should have waited for things to die down.

I fucked up.

If I hadn't interfered, she would still be alive.

It's my fault.

"We'll be okay."

Your fist connects with the wall. The blooming pain in your knuckles provide a welcome distraction from your thoughts. So you punch the wall again, then again, and again, until red starts to coat the once grey cement. Anything to block out the image of her dying. Anything so you don't see her lifeless body when you close your eyes.

You only stop when you can no longer close your hand into a fist.

You hear the door open behind you, someone stepping out to puking on the side. Poor sap.

There's no way to make any coherent conversation with whoever this drunk person is. So instead, you gingerly cover your injured hand with the uninjured one, and push yourself off the ground.

You stiffen when you see who's throwing up in the corner.

Ekko.

What you'd do just so you could speak to him again. You miss your home, your friends, your people, your tree. Hell, even the grimy smell of the tunnels headed there.

When he's done heaving his guts out, he turns around and flops onto the floor, looking up when he notices you, and you lock eyes.

There's a disoriented look in his eyes, one you're extremely familiar with.

The door swings open again.

"One can't go shouting from the rooftops about being thrust into parallel dimensions without—Oh!" Heimerdinger shuts his mouth when he catches sight of you. He tucks the book he was about to hand Ekko under his armpit. "Hello there miss!" He chuckles nervously. "Quite a day we're having, isn't it?"

No.

No way.

"Ekko? Professor?"

It's Heimerdinger who recovers first. "Oh how wonderful!" He exclaims as recognition flashes in his eyes. "It seems the anomaly which dislodged us from our proverbial reality, also scattered us throughout time!" He throws his hands up, dropping Ekko's book to the ground. "But we're all here now, so everything is fine."

Ekko lets out a sigh of relief, before standing up and dusting himself off. "Man, I thought I was going crazy." Heimerdinger shuts the door again and begins explaining what happened to him while he was in this timeline.

Their conversation barely registers with you; tears once again well in your eyes. You walk forward, barely trying to contain the sob that comes out of your mouth as grab Ekko and pull him into a hug. You don't even try to stop yourself from shaking while you're crying into his shoulder.

The Firelights were a tightknit group, but you were always the less emotional, sometimes cynical one. So Ekko is understandably surprised and concerned when you're clutching onto him for dear life and bawling your eyes out. He holds you and rubs circles on your back either way, and lets you cry.

The door swings open a third time. Heimerdinger lets out a surprised squeal.

"Oh—uh sorry."

You flinch at the sound of her voice. Quickly pulling away from Ekko, you step back a few paces, and wipe your eyes. Your eyes stay glued to the ground, you can't bring yourself to look at her. Jinx's final words start replaying again in your head. There's not much you can do to distract yourself but to try and move your injured hand. It works, and the immediate pain keeps your grieving mind at bay.

"Hey, your hand." She speaks up again.

Fuck.

"It's nothing." You put your injured hand behind your back, grimacing as the pain shoots through you. "I…slipped."

A poor excuse, really. You're sure all three of them can see the blood stain on the wall, but you're not looking at any of them. So who knows, maybe they didn't see it.

"I uh—have something to do with Ekko and Professor." You keep your eyes low as you send a pointed look to Heimerdinger. He shrugs in response. "So we should really go—" 

Ekko thankfully mutters in agreement with you, but Powder doesn't budge. "Ekko! Your friend's hurt, and we have a perfectly stocked first aid kit here."

As if on cue, you hiss as pain shoots up from your hand.

"See?"

"Perhaps it would be better if you allowed Ms. Powder to take a look at your hand." You let out a defeated sigh. Not like you can blame either of them—they don't know what happened to you.

Powder tries to reach for you, but you step away and start walking to the door. She thankfully takes the hint and guides you all through the bar.

------

You're all ushered into the back room that serves as a storage area for the staff, which just meant Vander's children. Powder sets you down on a chair, while Ekko and Heimerdinger whisper in hushed tones in the opposite corner of the room.

Against your request, it's Powder who cleans your hand, and dress it in bandages. She's also the one to put a bag of ice on it to help with the swelling. You're the one blinking back tears or wiping your eyes, claiming it to be pain from your hand.

She's the one to make small conversations, that you give curt replies to.

She's the one to ask you about yourself, that you shut down immediately, claiming to be uncomfortable with personal questions.

She's the one that reaches out, you're the one to pull away.

You still can't look at her, so you settle on staring at whatever interesting item is off to the side or on the ground.

Eventually she gives up, and leaves you with Ekko and Heimerdinger while she goes back to work, claiming she'll be back in a bit.

"What happened to you?" Ekko rushes over to you as soon as the door closes, concern written all over his face. He gestures to your bandages. "And what happened to your hand?"

You shrug tiredly. You could really use a nap right now. "I jumped through one too many realities."

Heimerdinger pipes up. "One too many?"

"Yeah, like, multiple ones…" Your eyebrows knit at his question. "Have neither of you…"

"No." Ekko shakes his head. Moving his chair to sit next to you. "How many realities have you been to, exactly?"

You blink. "This is two hundred and fifteen."

"Two hundred and fifteen?" Heimerdinger drops his banjo and rushes towards you. "And you're still mentally intact?" He drags a chair towards you and hoists himself up onto the table. Pulling out a pen light, he starts shining it on your eyes. "Your pupils looks normal, and I don't see any burst blood vessels…" He continues ramble to you until Ekko steps in.

"Professor, give her some breathing room."

"Oh right, my apologies." Heimerdinger scratches the back of his head sheepishly as he puts away the pen light.

"Okay then." Ekko sits back in his chair, leaning a bit toward you. "So, does jumping through different realities make you beat up a wall and cry?"

Fuck.

"I…I'm fine."

A sigh escapes your friend's lips as he crosses his arms, a frown on his face. "I've never seen you cry, then suddenly you're a sobbing mess."

You let out a shaky breath at his words, muttering a complaint.

"Look, I can't imagine what could have happened to you in over two hundred timelines. I can't even imagine how much time passed for you—"

"Five years, and a few months?" Ekko's eyes widen at the revelation.

"Five years? No wonder you're acting different." He puts a hand on your shoulder. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me—"

"Yeah, well maybe I don't need help." You quip, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. The expression on his face doesn't turn sour. If any, it becomes sympathetic.

"A friend to listen to you, then." He sends you a small smile, and you immediately regret snapping at him.

You tear your eyes at him to stare at the door Powder went through. "It's…illogical and kind of absurd if we're being honest."

"If I may, my dear. We're in an alternate reality where our lives are drastically different."  Heimerdinger says as he picks up his banjo. "I think we've long departed the realms of logic and coherence."

You're hit with a sudden appreciation for your two companions. The familiarity, and the fact that you finally have people to speak with about your timeline jumping, makes you feel less alone after so long. And Heimerdinger is right, you're long past logic, so why not explain to them that you think you're meant to be with one person for eternity?

You run your uninjured hand down your face. "Do either of you believe in soulmates?" Ekko and Heimerdinger exchange looks, before turning back to you with puzzled expressions.

"Soulmates are a thing?" Your friend asks.

You sigh, trying to find the best way to explain. "I'm not exactly sure." A lie, and you know it. "No, wait, I'm sure. Soulmates are a thing, at least for me. I can't confirm for anyone else."

A look of realization hits Ekko. "Jinx... Wait, Jinx?"

"Yeah, that was my reaction too." You say as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"So you're saying, you're soulmates with one of the Firelight's biggest enemies?" His eyes are wide, you can almost see the gears in his head move.

"You know, enemies to lovers stories are usually a huge hit."

"You don't even read."

"A lot can happen in five years."

"Alright, children, settle down!" Heimerdinger puts his hands up in a placating manner. "I for one, would like to know how you came to find this out. How fascinating! To know your soul is tied to someone." Yeah, fascinating.

"So, how did you find out?" Ekko nudges you with his elbow. You throw him a scowl in response, before rolling your eyes and looking over to Heimerdinger.

"Every timeline. It was always her." You think back to the first time you jumped. "I remember the first jump I did. I was hurt, and she came running over. I remember feeling safe around her; I was only there for a few minutes before I got dragged somewhere else. And then, every jump after, I was either with her already, or at some point headed there. There was never anyone else."

"Was that all? Relationships that kept spanning across timelines?" The professor asks.

"No, not just that. I felt—" Feel. "—this pull towards her. There were times that I'd know where she was if we were close enough to each other."

"How intriguing." Heimerdinger starts pacing the room. "Never in my long life would I have guessed the existence of soulmates. And I've lived a very long life!"

"So something happened in the last one, then?" Ekko cuts in. Your jaw clenches, the reminder hitting you like a bucket of cold water.

"She died, in the last one. Shot herself, to protect me." His mouth falls open at your words, eyes widening slightly.

A heavy silence falls over the three of you; Heimerdinger sighs and walks over, giving you a pat on your knee. "Loss is already such a confounding and jarring experience. I can't imagine it what it felt like to lose one you're destined to be with."

"I didn't even have time to deal with it. I got pulled here right after it happened." Your run your good hand through your hair. "I feel the grief, but I also feel how happy the me in this timeline is when she sees Jinx."

"You coexist with the version of you in this reality?" The professor cocks a bushy eyebrow. You nod.

"Yes, it took a while to get used to. Even longer to manage."

"Well, if that isn't a shining example of your mental fortitude, then I don't know what is!" His enthusiasm softens as he gives you another pat. "You'll make it through your grief, I promise you that." He throws you a reassuring smile. And you feel your spirits lift a bit.

"You and Jinx, huh?" Ekko rubs his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I could see it." He yelps as you punch him in the shoulder with your good hand. "What? I'm trying to be helpful."

"Well you're not."

Heimerdinger ignores yours and Ekko's antics, curious eyes looking at you in anticipation. "So dear, tell me about these realities. Were all two hundred of them different from each other?" You shake your head.

"Not all of them were different, some timelines have very miniscule variations from each other, but are still the same with everything else that's there." You look up around the room. "I've been to this reality at least thrice."

"Incredible!" Heimerdinger exclaims, jumping up from his seat. "And how many unique realities have you been to?"

"Seventy-one, I think?"

"Was there a pattern you followed?"

"No, I just got jumped from one to another."

"How long were you in each reality?"

"I—usually a little over a week."

"Were there consistent behaviors between timelines?"

"I can hear you thinking from over there."

"Got something to say to me?"

You wince, shaking the memory away. "How big did the variations get?"

"Okay, jelly legs."

"Easy there, jelly legs."

"I don’t—"

"Oh, what about the people! How different were we from ourselves?"

"Okay, professor! Breathing room?" Ekko cuts in. Heimerdinger mutters an apology for his excitement. You pinch the bridge of your nose with your uninjured hand and sigh. So much for a distraction. "You okay?"

You nod despite obviously feeling the opposite—if Ekko of Heimerdinger notice, they mercifully don't bring it up—and sink a little further into your chair.

"Let's take a step back from the reality hopping, alright? We still need to figure out how to get home." He looks towards Heimerdinger, who's taken to plucking a tune on his banjo. "Professor, you said that Hextech doesn't exist here, which means there's no anomaly?"

"Precisely."

"Which just means we need to figure out a way to make our own Hextech." The both of them turn to you.

"I'm afraid once just can't go about creating their own Hextech, my dear. Without Jayce's notes, and the crystals—"

"Powder has a stash of them."

"—Excuse me?!"

"—A stash?"

The corner of your lip twitches, and you almost smile. But the crushing reminder that comes with Powder's name quickly grounds you. "She has them at her hideout."

Ekko's eyebrows furrow. "And you know this because…"

You shrug. "She told me, in the other timelines."

"Even so!" The professor gets in between you and Ekko. "Tampering with the Arcane is the reason we're in this very predicament! Who knows what mayhem we'll cause if we try to do it on purpose." Heimerdinger nods over to you. "It's a miracle we didn't have any physical side effects from changing realities."

"Well…" You say before you can stop yourself, causing Heimerdinger's eyebrows shoot up. "I had this thing on my arm." You pull the sleeve of your shirt up, revealing only the faded outline of the mark. "When I first noticed it, it was only my second jump—it was the same pattern as the one on our tree. But now," You run your hand over the faded outline. "It's just this. It was fading every jump I had."

Heimerdinger walks over and pulls out a magnifying glass. "Incredible. To think that the anomaly attached itself to you… Did you take note of any side effects?"

"There weren't any. I was disoriented the first few jumps, but eventually I got used to them."

"Well, if anything. This is a damning reason for us not to further meddle with the Arcane." He pockets the magnifying glass and huffs, Ekko and yourself understandably in disagreement. The latter stands up from his chair, frustrated with the professor.

"We don't belong here, professor. We have people who need us!" Heimerdinger tuts at Ekko and picks up his banjo, idly plucking the strings.

"You two just need to give it time."

"I've been jumping around timelines for five years, I've had more than enough time. I want to go home." The chair you're sitting on screeches as you push yourself off of it, and you start pacing the room. "Besides, I don't know if losing the mark means I stop jumping. I have a little over a week at most. The least I can do is get the both of you out of here."

A frown tugs at Ekko's mouth. "Wait. You mean there's a chance you can't come home with us?"

You sigh. "The conservative answer is yes. Look, we can recreate the anomaly here. We just need the—"

"Am I interrupting smart people discourse?"

You jump at Powder's words, and quickly retreat beside Ekko, eyes glued again to the ground. You don't miss the concerned look your friend gives you.

"Of course not, Ms. Powder." Heimerdinger starts walking to the door, much to yours and Ekko's chagrin. "You two take some time to get situated, clear your minds, and come find me afterwards."

Ekko shrugs from the corner of your eye. "I should get going."

You whip your head around to stare at your friend. "What?"

He puts his hands up. "I have to go uh—look at that thing you told me to check out."

You narrow your eyes at him. Did you miss some code word that was agreed upon? Ekko sighs as he walks behind Powder, you abandoning your quest to avoid looking at the girl in favor of figuring out what the hell your friend is saying.

"You get the thing you told us you needed, and then we can meet back with the professor."

"What?" Ekko looks at you pointedly, then at Powder.

Oh. The Gemstones.

Realization seemingly crosses your features, as Ekko promptly says his goodbye and shuts the door.

Leaving you with Powder. Did they not listen to your grief-filled monologue?

"Well, at least you're finally looking at me." She lets out an awkward chuckle. "Or at least, my general direction."

It's unfair, really; seeing the love of your life die in front of you one second, only for her to stand in front of you—alive and breathing—in the next. Her eyes still alight, curious, inviting.

And you, the mess of you. With your confusion, shock, grief, guilt; melding with relief, and the urge to hold her. The self-conscious look on her face already tearing down the walls you had just put up to protect what was left of your sanity. You couldn't even get away if you tried—and you've tried—because she'd follow you somehow, or you'd inevitably find your way back to her.

The bond of your souls demands to stay intertwined.

"So, do you need help with whatever you were getting?"

You blink. "Huh?"

Her lips curl into an amused smile. "Ekko said you had a thing you needed, that I totally believe exists by the way."

The easiness of how she speaks to you feels like a pair of hands wrapping around your throat. But it was between the friendly approach, or the concerned approach. The latter meant she'd ask why you were crying, so you'll just have to take this one and run with it.

"Uh, yeah." The words come out scratchy, there's an ever-present heaviness in your chest as you look at her, smiling at you. You clear your throat in an attempt to collect yourself. You found Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you have a week to get them—and hopefully yourself—home. You just need to push down the grief until then.

"You know anything about intradimensional travel?"

------

"So let me get this straight. You think you can create a way to transport anything from point A to B at light speed?"

"Not light speed, that's an entirely different can of worms." Powder rolls her eyes at you, leaning back into her bean bag chair.

It surprisingly took no effort for her to take you to her hideout; she even introduced you to Vi. A part of you wonders if this is because she felt sorry for you, but you can't really complain if it brings you closer to the energy crystals.

"Alright hotshot, what is it then?"

"It's more like—" You wince as you try to gesture with your injured hand. "—teleportation." You slouch into your own chair, resting your hand carefully on your stomach. "With magic."

She scoffs. "Can you do magic?"

"Nope."

"Pfft. Get a load of this guy, sis." Your eyes flit to Vi, sitting in her corner. "Sorry." There's a hint of embarrassment in Powder's eyes when you look back at her scratching the back of her neck. Only a second of confusion before you remember that you're a stranger to her here. "You must think I'm weird, talking to a plush of my dead sister. Which I'm not—I mean, I am talking to her. I meant the weird part, but if you ask my brothers they'd probably say I am weird—"

"I don’t think it's weird."

Another roll of her eyes. "Sure you don't."

"I think it helps." You say firmly, sitting up as best you can in a bean bag chair. "Talking to someone who's died, it keeps their memory alive, keeps me sane. Makes me feel like…everything's still normal, even though it's not."

Her eyes soften at your words; an expression you've seen thousands of times. One that used to give you comfort, now also draping you with the blanket of grief and guilt.

"You lost someone."

You tear your gaze away from her, choosing to stare at the drawer you know the energy crystals are stored. "I got her killed."

There's a shifting from Powder's side, and you turn to find her dragging her bean bag next to you, before flopping down and sighing. A few beats of silence pass before she speaks.

"When my sister died, I blamed myself for a really long time." Her eyes glisten as she looks at the altar she made for Vi, distant. "Back when things were harder for us down here, we did odd jobs from tips we'd get from Ekko."

A story you've heard hundreds of times, every version a bit different than the one before, but you'd listen every single time.

"There were these crystals. They looked valuable to me, so I took 'em. Didn't realize I dropped one and I guess it hit something." She sits up, hugging her knees towards her chest. "Next thing I know, half the apartment's blown up, and Vi…she put me under her so I'd be safe." You hear a sniffle as she suddenly looks away, not so subtly wiping her eyes. "We stopped doing jobs after that, focused on making things better here."

"I'm sorry." She snorts.

"Hey, I'm trying to comfort you, not the other way around." She puts her legs down, knocking her knee onto yours. "Anyway. My point is, she would've hated it if I spent the rest of my life blaming myself for what happened. If I just decided to be miserable all the time." A shrug, and she's standing up and stretching. "I sure as hell wouldn’t want her to blame herself, anyone of my family or friends really, if I was the one that died protecting them."

Forgiveness, handed out so nonchalantly. Completely unaware of the weight of her words. You almost hate feeling the weight lift off your shoulders; her forgiveness hadn't been earned, could never be earned. Not for Jinx.

But she still has the same soul.

"Alright, how exactly are we making your non-magic magic machine?" She says as she offers you a hand.

Still the same soul.

"We'll need to clear out some space." You say as you take her hand.

-----

Zero

"How fucking long were we gone?"

"Professor Heimerdinger…"

"There's Noxian's everywhere. What the hell's going on—Ekko!" You grab your friend by the shoulders, shaking him. "We won't have time to mourn the professor if we get sliced in half. We need to get home."

Ekko blinks a few times, before taking a deep breath and nodding. "You're right, you're right." He peeks his head out of the alleyway you're both hiding in, spotting Noxians soldiers pushing people out of their homes. "Why are they all here?"

"Beats me, but this can't be good." He ducks his head back in, unconsciously tucking the Z-Drive closer to him.

"We're you in any timelines where this happened?"

You nod. "Yes, but they were never in the Undercity. We were the ones taking the fight to them and Piltover."

The both of you stick to the wall as a group of Noxians soldiers march past, headed deeper into the Undercity. There was no way the both you could sneak back to the tunnel lines with that many eyes moving around. A curse is muttered at the thought, you needed to know how much time passed, and how much had changed in your absence.

"If only we could've gone back right after we left here." You rub your face in your hands. "I must've messed something up with the runes—"

"Hey, what happened to getting home being the top priority?" Ekko elbows you lightly on your side. "We can refine your rune work later," He points up to the roofs. "If we can't avoid getting to the tunnels from the ground, we'll have to cross the rooftops."

"Rooftops." You nod.

The both of you start climbing up pipes that are sticking out of the ground and around the buildings. Eventually making it onto a balcony, before jumping across the top of a smaller building. It provides you with a clearer view of the Undercity, still looking the same from where you are, despite the obvious changes occurring on the ground. The neon glow from various establishments, the ever present whir of the vents running through the streets, the gloomy allure atmosphere. Hell, even the smell was the same.

Ekko lands next to you, dusting himself off before surveying the skyline. "It's like nothing's changed from up here." He muses, reiterating your thoughts. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"We made it back...We actually did it." He looks over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Welcome back."

"Welcome back to you too, Ekko."  He snorts, giving your shoulder another squeeze before letting go.

"Alright, let's head home." Ekko starts moving towards the next roof, and you follow suit. Each step you take giving you more confidence. Son enough, the both of you are running and leaping across rooftops.

You greedily breathe in the air, not caring at all that most people would consider Undercity air to be polluted. This was home. After spending five years trying to find a way back, who the hell could judge you?

"Hurry up!" Ekko shouts from ahead of you. Grinning, you lean forward and start kicking the ground harder.

"I'm just giving you a head start!" You say as you easily speed past Ekko, who huffs and matches your speed.

For a moment, you forget about all of your worries. You forget about the two hundred and sixteen jumps you did, all of the panic you went through, all of the memories you made, the lives you lived. It's just you and once of your closest friends, running through the rooftops of your city—your city. Not a variation of it in some other timeline. It's the place where you grew up, the place you're trying to fix and make better for the people. You run past familiar stores and landmarks, feeling your nostalgia grow by the second. It's a freeing sensation; leaving for years, then coming back home. Seeing everything be both familiar and new at the same time.

There's a billowing of dark smoke from your periphery. You almost miss it, but you turn your head and spot the smoke growing steadily. Unconsciously, you turn and start heading to where the smoke is. Ekko calls out to you, but starts to follow when he sees it as well.

You stop dead in your tracks when you find the source of the smoke. Dread starts to build in your chest.

The Last Drop, engulfed in flames.

There's no thought process involved before you jump down and enter the burning building, telling Ekko you'll meet him back home. You don't even heed Ekko's calls as you slide through a doorway before it collapses behind you.

-----

Your hands feel around for your gas mask hidden inside your coat, a sigh of relief as your eyes stop watering and you're able to breathe. Navigating The Last Drop is easy enough, you've been here plenty of times in the other timelines. But the problem wasn't finding your way around, it was figuring out why you decided to jump in in the first place.

Was it the thought of someone being stuck inside and needing help? Or was it the feeling of dread creeping up on you?

The sound of crackling wood fills your ears as you look up, a supports beam starts to collapse. You quickly duck out of the way before it falls, having no choice but to push in deeper into the bar. You start to think—hope—that no one is inside, since you haven't seen a single soul as you went from one room to the next.

You feel the pull before you register that it's her.

But this one is different, stronger. Enough that you almost stumble forward, as if it's somehow physically pushing you closer. You feel it wrap around your heart, clutching it tight, almost painfully so. The feeling of longing rushes over you, not the small waves that you felt in the other timelines, but a raging current, crashing through you and sweeping you towards her.

You wonder briefly why the feeling was much more intense. Was it because you were in other timelines? Did your soul know that they were Jinx, but they weren't your Jinx? Will she also feel this when she sees you? If this is what every other version of you felt when they were with their Jinx, their Powder, no wonder they can't keep themselves away from her.

She hasn't even seen you yet.

She has her back turned to you, hands limply at her side. Her hair jaggedly cut short, just above her shoulders, which are slumped in defeat. An almost instinctive need to comfort her enters your mind, but you push it down. The first thing you need to do is get her out of here.

She doesn't react violently when you pull her towards you, telling her that you had to get out of there. Does nothing when you pick her up and bring her out the side of the building. The same alleyway where you two would sneak off to steal kisses in one timeline, and mourned the loss of her in another. She's too stunned to do anything really. Maybe she felt the pull, maybe she was just surprised that someone had gone in to fish her out. But she doesn't do anything as you set her down and take off your gas mask. Nothing when you look over her, covered in soot and grime, to search for any injuries.

The second you meet her eyes, you know, you're sure, that her soul is letting her know who you are. That she's suddenly fallen into that same raging river that you find yourself in right now.

The surprise in her eyes softens, the same look you've seen thousands of times, that you'd try to find wherever you are.

The pull makes itself known again, probably ecstatic that you've found her in your own timeline. Not that you wouldn't have, anyway. Not even the omnipotent force that created every timeline to ever exist can keep you from finding her.

CRACK

But maybe a broken nose will.

You stagger backward. A hand over your nose, eyes wide from shock and confusion. She's polite enough to not say anything after she punches you. She awkwardly stands there and watches you curse as you push your nose back into place, wiping off the blood with your gloved hand. Yup, definitely broken.

At this point, two hundred and sixteen jumps after, you should really learn to be more vigilant when it comes to tackling unpredictable situations.

You keep a hand on your nose, one hand up on surrender. She still has her hand closed into a fist, but there's a shocked look on her face.

She Blinks a few times, before a look of frustration is on her face. "Who the hell are you?!" Her eyebrows are knit together; if your nose wasn't broken, you would find her confused frustration adorable.

"I thought you needed help." Your voice comes out nasally, and you can almost feel the bruises start to form.

"I don't need your stupid help."

Stubborn.

"Well who just stands inside a burning building?!" She huffs crossing her arms over her chest. It's now that you notice she's missing a few things from her usual outfit; her choker, the string marking the X on her top, her gloves—and had she been crying?

"First of all, stop looking at me like that, you creep. Second, it's none of your business."

"I literally just saved your—" The sound of clanking armor, and boots hitting the ground cuts you off.

You grab her hand without thinking, and pull her farther into the alleyway, away from the fire and the soldiers that have started to gather. Again, she's surprised, but doesn't protest. She doesn't let go even after you've stopped running.

"We need to get out of here. I have a safe house but it's a bit far. If we start moving now—"

"My place is closer." She tugs at your hand to get your attention—your eyes flitting down the same time as her—and you both realize that they're still clasped together.

You wait for her to let go of you, throw your hand and call you a creep again. For a moment you think she actually will; you see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. But she still doesn't.

"Just... follow me." She says tiredly, nodding down a road and half dragging you to her hideout. She only lets go of your hand when there's a tight squeeze into a tunnel and it would be too awkward to walk in side by side.

Neither of you talk the entire way there. You don't ask her where her hideout is—not that you need to, you could get there with your eyes closed at this point. She doesn't ask you how you can easily navigate through tricky the walkways and hidden passages.

At first you think she's still processing how she's feeling, but you remember the tear streaks, and the way her shoulders sagged as she looked at The Last Drop burning down. You wonder again how long you've been gone, what had happened to her in the meantime. Even now, she has her head down as she walks. Her demeanor completely different from the last time you saw her.

"I can hear you thinking from over here." She says nonchalantly. She sounds tired, her irritation from earlier long gone. "I'm not leading you to some murder house, if that's what you're wondering."

You shrug out of habit. "I know, I trust you."

Her head tilts up just a bit as she stops walking. She turns her head slightly to the side, just enough that she can see you from the corner of her eye. "You shouldn't." She doesn't wait for an answer before she starts walking again, and you're left to follow her in silence the rest of the way.

There's a hesitation in her step once you reach her hideout, stopping right in front of her desk, hands balled into fists. She tries to take a steadying breath, but it comes out shaky and uneven.

You take a look around her space, noticing how brighter everything is. Not like the other timelines where you meet her as Jinx, not like Powder's either. The space was more cleared out, lights had been added, a makeshift fort had been put over her couch.

She picks up something small on the desk, you recognize it as a smaller version of the robots you two made in a few timelines. Her eyes are distant as she turns it over in her hand, before setting it back down on the table. She doesn't look back at you as she speaks.

"Why'd you help me back there?"

"I would've helped whoever was in there regardless."

She scoffs, turning to face you, leaning against her desk. "Figures with you people."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask as you walk closer to her.

"You're a Firelight." You halt in your tracks just a few steps away, a puzzled look on your face. She's never figured that part out in any of the other timelines, either. "I've seen you before." She adds. "You always have your stupid mask on, but," A shrug, as she looks off to the side. "I recognized your eyes."

It's almost funny.

You spent the last five years learning that your soul wanted to be with Jinx, and this entire time, she's probably known hers wanted you.

There's a myriad of questions that pop up in your head, but Jinx is still upset about something, and figuring that out was more important.

"Why'd you burn the place down?" She crosses her arms at your question, keeping her gaze on the ground.

"I was breaking the cycle, or whatever that means." She sits down on a chair, and starts tinkering with a chomper on the desk.

"What were you gonna do after?"

"Haven't figured that part out yet."

"What about—"

"Coast should be clear by now, you can leave if you want." Her tone maintains the same aloofness she's had this entire time, but her shoulders are tense, her movements as she works on the chomper almost robotic.

Even though you’re guaranteed that your souls are entwined in every possible timeline, you find yourself at a loss for words. All the bravado and confidence that you’d carried with you with every other version of her, gone out the window. You really shouldn’t be worried, you know she’ll love you, she always does, she always will. Even when she's kicking you out.

Only this wasn’t the Jinx fighting for Zaun’s liberation, wasn’t the mildly annoying Academy classmate that got you into trouble, nor was she the Jinx that waited for you for years to be ready to come back to her.

This was your Jinx. And you know something is wrong.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Her hands stop moving, but you can see that her grip on her tools has tightened, her knuckles going white.

She knows you. Longer than you've known her in your timeline. You're not leaving her knowing that. So instead, you finish walking the last few steps to get to her, your hand hesitating slightly before resting on her shoulder.

The dam breaks, as she drops her tools, hands closing into fists. "You're not safe here." Her voice cracks as she speaks. "Everyone around me—" She clamps her mouth shut and looks away.

Things start to fall into place. "You lost someone."

She lets out a bitter laugh. "I've lost a lot of someones." You see her blink a few times before she turns to you, shrugging off your hand in the process. "So you best get out of here, toots. I'm no good for you."

"I don't know, I think I've survived you enough times." She shakes her head, turning back to the abandoned chomper.

"You have no idea what you're saying." You sigh, getting down on a knee so your eyes are level with her. She's taken aback by your actions, her eyes reflecting a cautious but curious glint in them.

"I do, actually." A questioning look is the only response you get from her. "I'd explain, but I'll have to ask you to not to think I'm crazy."

Her gaze softens, just a pinch.

"Have you even met me?" Yes, you want to say. I've met you two hundred and sixteen times, and I'll gladly stay here until my knee is sore just so I can explain to you how.

"Not yet," You say instead, you extend your hand. "But I'd like to."

Destined souls or not, you're aware that you're pushing your luck. A smidgen of doubt starts to form in your mind, when she does nothing but stare at your outstretched hand. You can see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. Whoever she lost, it was enough that she doesn't want to keep anyone close to her anymore. A sentiment that you can understand, given that you wanted to stay away from any variation of her after you lost her once. But you don't want to leave her, not like this, not when there's a gnawing feeling in your gut that she's not okay enough to be left alone. So you hold your breath, standing by your decision.

Her eyes flit back to yours, and you hope the determined look in your eye is enough to sway her.

"You're gonna regret this." There's a pleading tone to her words, as if she's begging you to turn away and leave her. Fat chance, really.

A soft, reassuring smile. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

She searches your eyes for any trace of doubt, or deceit, but she will find none.

Her hand reaches out to yours, and you wonder if she feels the same spark of electricity that shoots through you when your hands touch.

"Grab a chair." She says, but inconveniently doesn't let go of your hand. "You down on a knee is too intimate."

You laugh, and for the first time since you've met her, you see her relax, a smile on her face.

"Fair enough."

And she listens. About Ekko seeing the anomaly on one of the leaves of your tree, the three of you breaking into Jayce's lab, heading to the Hex gate, you idiotically reaching out to the anomaly. You show her the faded outline that the anomaly left on you, and she gingerly traces the mark with her finger.

You tell her about your first jump, how your mind struggled with the Other You, as you crawled your way to cover. How you she came and saved you. You don't outright say that you're soulmates, simply because you don't want to scare her off. Not even if she probably already knows. She doesn't say anything when you first mention you two meeting, but you see her figure it out by the time you're telling her about your eighth jump. Her eyes narrow, but she lets you continue. Patiently listening as you explain, part by part, that in every reality, in every timeline, it's always you and her. It will always be you and her.

You're able to coax a laugh out of her when you tell her about your misadventures as academy students, she even teases you for being a stickler for the rules. She argues with you when you tell her that you always beat her in hand to hand combat "I could beat you any day, toots." Denies it when you tell her that she tended to sulk if you didn't give her attention, when she's be uncharacteristically thoughtful.

She holds your hand when you tell her how you lost her, how she sacrificed herself for your safety. Squeezes it when you tell her that the next version of herself is the one that pulls you out of your grief.

You explain the pull you feel when she's around, and how much stronger it feels when it's her. She interrupts you, then. Confirming that she had already known about it for a few years, right after she first saw you in a firefight. There's a blush on her cheeks as she confesses that she'd always tried to not hurt you after, and that she'd randomly seek you out to mess with you from time to time.

Eventually, she tells you how long you and your friends have been gone. What's happened to her since, about the attack at the Piltover Memorial, Vi and Caitlyn coming after her. How she met a little girl named Isha, and the strange little family she had formed with her and Sevika. You don't miss the sad, faraway look in her eyes when she recounts the adventures they had, their own little robot fight club, them making over her hideout. How they made a good situation out of everything, despite the Noxians and enforcers occupying Zaun.

You're surprised when she mentions Vander, and the short stint of happiness her and Vi had when their little family was able to reunite. She chokes up when she tells you how short lived it was, how she had been reckless in allowing Isha to come with them, that she finally understood why Vi told her to stay out of a fight all those years ago.

You hold her close to you when the tears come, and she shakes in your arms.

By the end of it all, you're both lying on her couch, and she's passed out on your chest. The physical and emotional exhaustion from the last few weeks finally catching up to her.

You spend the time processing all the information you learned; about the war, Viktor, Jayce. How there was a lot more weight now to the sacrifice Heimerdinger made for you and Ekko. You're sure he's already rallying people to join the fight, but from what Jinx had told you, Zaun won't fully unite until she's on board, too.

She's tired of it all, but she'll probably relent if you ask her. But that's an issue for tomorrow. Right now, you settle on holding her close.

And if only you hadn't asked her.

If only you had kept your mouth shut, and let her rest.

If only you hadn't put her in danger, again.

Your lungs burn as you run through smoke, not caring if your eyes can barely see anything, or that your legs are screaming for you to stop and take a break. You can't, not when you didn’t try hard enough to stop her, not when you could've asked her to stay instead. 

You make it to the Hex Gate, the smell of burnt metal and wiring fills your nose and brings you to a coughing fit. You still shout her name, at the top of your lungs, hoping that she'll hear you. You start to lift debris and stray slabs of concrete. There's only a numbness in your hands as you cut and burn them while digging our rubble. Not a care in the world that there could still be explosive hazards in the area. The only thing on your mind was Jinx.

The desperation starts to build with every passing minute, the pull in your chest is painful, screaming at you to find her. Even as the smoke slowly clears, the momentary reprieve from searching blind not stopping you from your erratic search. You continue to clear the rubble, your hands smearing blood on every piece of debris you touch. This does nothing to bother you, though. You'd paint every inch of this room red before you stop looking for her.

You collapse to your knees, grabbing onto a large piece of rubble for support. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Just when you find your way back, when you finally have her with you. Five years and hundreds of jumps, only for you to lose her again.

You lay your head against the concrete, as the tears start streaming down your face.

Then a cough, the sound of shifting debris and rock hits your ears.

You bolt upright, ears straining to listen. For a few seconds, there's nothing, and you almost thing that you're getting high from the fumes. But you hear a groan, then you're feet are already kicking the ground.

Smaller pieces of rubble start moving around, and you quickly claw away it, clearing everything away until you catch sight of a hand. You've never been happier to see chipped nail polish in your life.

You ignore the ache in your arms as you lift every piece of heavy rock, until Jinx has enough room to grab onto you and you pull her out.

There's a deep gash on her side, a few cuts, and bruises already forming. She starts coughing, but there's no blood. Good. She's breathing, alive.

"You regret meeting me, yet?" She manages a smile, and your heart soars.

"No, not yet, at least." You wipe your eyes with the back of your palms, sniffling.

"Hey, hey, easy." She puts a hand on your chest to stop you from picking her up. "Your hands are bleeding."

"You have a gash on your stomach."

"I heal quick, you don't." She shoots you a warning glare when you try to pick her up again, and you relent.

"I thought I lost you again." The tears well up in your eyes, and her glare softens. She pulls you closer until your foreheads are touching.

"Sorry to disappoint," She starts. "But you're stuck with me forever."

You fail at stifling your laughter. "Sounds like a good deal to me."

She cups your face in her hands, running a thumb across your cheek, and you instinctively lean into her touch.

"Help me up, yeah?"

You oblige. You always do. You always will.

[eveningepiphany]

pirates gold, H.S series part 4

series masterlist

my masterlist<3

summary: another day on the ship with your captor turns into him teaching you a thing or two about the pirate life. but as controversy’s of your past come up, somehow the captain and the princess wind up back in his bed- with anything but sleep on their minds.

warnings: mentions of violence, talk of unconsensual past experiences (not descriptive!) swearing, SMUT: f!rec oral and fingering, m!rec oral with slight edging, p in v penetration, dirty talk, lots of sex, anyways oopsie enjoy

a/n: i genuinely can’t believe how long this took to write and publish. thank you all for your patience, i like to think the sex they have makes the three million year wait worth it. can’t wait to hear what you all think<3

———

Nothing can prepare a person for realising they don't know themselves as well as they thought.

There's a mixture of disappointment, shame, dread. But sometimes, deep down—despite not ever admitting it to oneself— there's can be an element of excitement.

Not always, but occasionally. There’s that moment of wonder, who really am i?

It’s a bewildering spiral of good and bad feelings, you hardly know left from right, or up from down.

Rarely did you do things for yourself purely for the sake of it. Back at home there was someone for everything, not only to do things for you, but to make sure you weren't stepping out of line.

You couldn’t experiment. No finding out who you are deep down. There was never the chance for self discovery.

Now, you’ve landed in a situation where somehow you’re supposed to be more trapped. Yet you don’t think you’ve ever been more free.

No more straight posture at the dining tables of the banquet hall, being left to sit with a cautious mouth for hours upon hours. Engage in colourless and dull conversation while you imagined freedom.

Funny to think of it now… the picture in your head. Neatly pulled back hair. A spotless dress without a hunch of what was past the waters you stared out at every night. It was like trying to explain what something tasted like, yet having never tasted it yourself.

You knew nothing of freedom.

Not until you felt the sea nearly swallow you, the wind whip your hair a mess, the heart in your chest pounding as you ran out of Sintir— a place you’d only ever seen on a map.

Indulging in late night caressing with a pirate, something that selfishly bled into early morning, in his own bed. Hands on bare skin, hands in hair, hands wherever they could feasibly touch without crossing some sort of invisible line. Definitely not something that would’ve flown back in Kelna.

Yet that is exactly what you did a few days ago, and your head has been a complete mess since. After you stooped as low as to beg the Captain of this very ship to stay with you, he did just that. For how long, you dont even know. Long enough a crew mate of his was rapping his fist upon the locked door, calling out in bemused annoyance.

“You're either so hungover you cant move or tied up in there by our supposed-to-be prisoner.”

The heave of his chest underneath your head is ingrained into your memory. A strong huff, perhaps annoyed, but something you hope was from sadness. A regret for having to leave at any point, for not being able to stay forever.

"Free of any ties, Tanner. Just... tired." He calls back, tone rather harsh.

You'd moved yourself off him, "I'm embarrassed i didnt think to do such a thing."

The quip lacked all venom it used to, and you scolded yourself internally. You were screwed.

---

The days since were as bipolar as the weather at sea. You craved him, his touch, his voice of silk. It was like a drug. But you knew better for yourself.

After the hangover wore off, and the reality of what you had done set in. You forced distance between the two of you. He saw it coming, even he played along with it.

You two never stopped the game. You just went from a chess piece on his board to being the person opposite him.

Meant to be playing to win.

Up on deck, now the sun has come back out, everyone is saying the good weather is to return from now. Unsure whether to trust it— like many other things on this ship. You keep your gaze trained on the distance, where the waves ripple and swell. There is still a gusty wind, but the sun is hot on your skin.

Slowly, you chew on the fish roll you made in the kitchen with Zayn. He is a gifted cook, you on the other hand, are far from it. Used to it ‘being done for you’ he'd scorned playfully.

He'd shown you a few things this past week, stuff you feel envigored learning about. Knowing how to live independently for yourself is freeing, just as you knew it would be.

Wiping the crumbs off the sides of your lips with the back of your hand, you wonder how you are to go back to living the way you used to.

Before you could spiral into that rabbit hole, someone interrupts.

"Y/N." Harry said, his tone unreadable.

Tearing your gaze from the far horizon, your eyes met his.

The purple silk top covering him today has a typical amount of ruffles for a fashion heavy pirate. He looks tragically good in purple.

"Yes, Captain." You kept your own voice level.

The past week your walls have gone back up, albeit, haphazardly. You still struggled to stay on your side of the bed. And the few brief moments the connection between the two of you has festered in the air, and you’ve allowed it to linger.

Or better said, the moments you didn’t have the strength to resist it.

Like brushing past him in the kitchen yesterday, his hand coming to your waist as you attempt to squeeze through the gap. He wasn’t holding you, but you stopped dead in your tracks.

For but a second you both sucked a breath in. No longer than that, and then you cleared your throat and pushed past him.

Either way, he's noticed it, obviously. Feeling like he should regret the night after taking you into Sintir. But he selfishly cant.

He can’t regret it when the sensation of your skin is burnt into the pads of his fingers. No part of him is strong enough to forget the way your body felt pressed against him, leg thrown over his waist and curled into his chest.

Yet, despite all of that, back to the game you both went, head first. Your bickering was more contained, but his title of mean pirate was attempted to be restored in your mind.

Maybe he couldn’t forget the imprint of your skin against his, but he did love a good game.

Who was he not to feed into that?

A chuckle rumbles in his chest, “Captain, aye? We back to that are we. Two can play at this game Princess.”

The name makes your stomach stir, a small punch of adrenaline tingling in your limbs. How far can you push this before someone gets hurt?

He leans down to you, the blouse is loose on him and falls at the front. He’s eye level with you but your gaze locks onto the view of his chiseled chest between swirls of purple fabric, the tattoos you can vividly remember tracing with your fingers.

His tan skin is glistening between his pecs… a light sweat over him, making your mouth dry.

Suddenly his hand lifts your chin, “my eyes are up here, dove.”

“Don’t be disgusting.” You scoff, despite being caught in the act.

“What is it you want. Why are you pestering me?”

“Such a princess thing t’say, that im bothering you. You’re on my ship, need I remind you.” His fingers tap your cheek with a smirk.

“Need I remind you, that’s not to any choice of my own.” Your voice is indignant, and you pull your chin from his grasp, turning your face away with a scowl.

He’s pressing your buttons, winding you up exactly the way he knows how.

“Well, I haven’t heard much about how deeply y’long to be back home.”

It works a charm, because you’re quick to snap back at him.

“That is none of your business. And frankly I would rather keep that matter to myself than share it with the people who are responsible for kidnapping me.”

He loves hearing your accent when you argue like that, the pompous royal tone returning briefly to you. So stuck up, said always like a challenge.

Letting out a breathy laugh, his hands suddenly coming to under your arms. He hoists you off the floor like you’re but a parcel of feathers, standing you upright.

“Won’t you leave me be!” The raise in your voice causes a few crew to turn their head at the scene.

“‘M trying to make y’useful ‘round here.” He chides, his hand snakes down to one of your wrists, a smirk pulling at his lips.

The feeling takes you back to the first day on the ship merely weeks ago, when that was the only way you got around.

His hand wrapped around the rope tied around them.

You think back to when you threw yourself off the ship, When he swam out to retrieve you, when his hips pinned you to hull of the ship and he cut the ties free.

“Instead of jus’ leeching our supplies,” his voice draws your attention away from the tan hand wrapped around your wrist. “And laying around not carrying y’weight.”

“Maybe you can just starve me then. That way I won’t be taking away from your precious supplies.”

“So much sass on y’today,” The smirk that comes across his face is devilish, walking you over to the bass of a mast, “c’mere”

He pulls you infront of him, his chest to your back. Forcing himself not to take any notice to your figure, the white blouse covering your top half and the black fitted pants that are tight around your bottom.

“See this rope, how it’s worn?”

Your head turns over your shoulder to catch his eyes, and your heart lurches in your chest as you clock how close his face suddenly is to you. The green in his eyes is captivating in sunlight. With his captivating eyes burning into you, his mouth is still holding a smirk.

You give a swift, forced nod, but you’re not even looking. You’re pretty sure you haven’t even blinked.

This causes a laugh to bubble from his chest, suddenly he’s leaning in.

What the fuck?

Your brain is racing as his body leans towards you, and face is inching closer.

There is no way he’s about to kiss you.

Suddenly he’s placing something in your hands, and his body is going back to its original stance.

He was handing you the rope.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and he’s surely seen the flush that’s spread across it. It’s making you overheat, and your lungs are rising up and down in your chest ten times as fast compared to just five minutes ago.

What is wrong with me?

You snap your gaze down, hoping that your hair falls enough to cover your flaming cheeks.

“It’s…” your voice falters— great— you’re so embarrassed right now.

“Princess, has a cat got your tongue?” He chides with sarcasm.

“It’s frayed, feels weak, yes.” You nod hastily.

“Good girl,” he watches you purse your lips at his silky praise, and focuses on purely the amusement riling you up stirs in him. Not any of the other emotions that arise.

“Y’gonna help me replace it.”

“Like hell i am. Do you want your ship to fall apart?” You scowl, there is no way you can do that without something going terribly wrong.

“That’s why I’m teaching you, y’could do with a bit of hands-on work.”

Your eyes trail up to what the rope connects to, it’s holding down a part of the sail, helping to pull it taut.

“Taking this off won’t do much since we aren’t on too rough of waters, so it’s a good time t’change it.”

He steps a few feet away from you and retrieves a wad of fresh intact rope. A lot of it too, metres upon metres.

Your body remembers the sensation of it wrapped around your hands and your feet with a slight shiver.

“Firstly, we’re gonna untie and remove the old one.”

“Harry, I don’t know what im doing.” You whine, wishing to be anywhere but here, immediately frustrated.

He tuts, dropping the pile of new rope down next you both, “Zayn did tell me y’were bad at this.”

“Excuse you?” You scoff, shocked at his audacity. Slightly offended.

He steps back behind you, ushering you forward so you’re close to the metal bar that the worn tie is wrapped around.

“Told me y’don’t like being bad at things. Don’t like not knowing how to do stuff.” His voice is smug, like that is a fatal flaw.

“I—“ you’re so annoyed right now.

“I am not!”

“Y’defensiveness only proves m’point.”

You don’t even know what to say to him right now. Truthfully— ego aside— you don’t know if that’s how you get. You have gone laps around the sun without knowing this kind of stuff about yourself.

In defiance, you don’t admit this to Harry. But you stay silent as his hands reach for the knot in front of you.

“Now, princess. Look at this.”

“I’m looking.” You huff.

“Where do you think we’re gonna start untying this, what kind of knot do y’think this is?”

“I have half a clue of what kind of knot this is, Captain.”

“This is a water bowline, angel.” The words mean little to you, but your stomach does a weird squeeze at his confident words, the way his accent makes the word angel sound.

“I’m going to guess this loose end here,” Your right hand extends out, tugging at the few inches of rope that extends out the middle of the knot, “has something to do with untying it.”

He smiles at the way you’re starting to soften at the idea of what’s happening. Yes, you’re still standing tense and your tone is still veering on irate. But you’re indulging, playing along at the least.

A small sense of pride bubbles through him, “Smart girl, it does.”

“You’ll see these knots everywhere on the ship, in many different forms. They’re nice and secure, can take a lot of tension but aren’t hard to tie or untie.”

“This here,” his fingers trace a loop in the top of the knot, “is what you’re gonna pull on first.”

You grab it and he brings his hand to your waist. The action makes you flush as you try and focus.

“Fold it forward, this is gonna loosen it against the standin’ end of the rope.”

You don’t know what that means, but you pull the part he’s directing you to towards yourself, applying a bit more pressure when you see it needs it.

He hums in approval, and your lips purse together, “Now that loose end, feed it out of the wrap in the middle there.”

You do that, and he reaches forward to add tension on the upper section of the rope as you now use both hands to untie the rest of the knot— unhooking it.

“Tha’s it. Now we can replace it, and I’ll show you how to tie the knot.” He takes the old rope and figure 8’s it around a metal hold, so it’s still holding the sail.

He sees your curious eyes at his action, and explains, “We could cut it, but just incase it’s better to have it handy until y’know you’re ready to replace it.”

You nod, and he grabs the fresh rope and sets it up for you.

Grabbing your hands, he walks you through the process first himself, then he unties it to make you do it.

You curse for the first few minutes as you try to tie it properly, but once he guides you again, you’re staring at the tied knot.

“There you go, look at that princess. Jus’ tied ya first water bowline.” He comments proudly, and you can’t help but smile.

“Thanks…” you feel good, accomplished.

“I’m gonna secure it in the eyelet up there now, y’stay down here.”

He leaves you down there. All while you watch him bring the sail in, so he can reach it from the mast. Rope tied to his belt loop, he unties the old one and lets it drop.

You’d stepped back so it could fall without nearly taking you out by the head. Staring with hardly enough shame as Harry worked his fingers to create a new knot through the eyelet of the sail.

His brow furrowed in concentration, unbothered by the metres between him and the deck of the ship as he balanced entirely unsuspended.

His strong thighs are tensed as he holds himself stable, black pants look good on him.

He cut the excess rope off with a dagger and climbed down with ease. Unbelievable how good he can look doing something like that.

Once he’s back down, he walks over to where you stood and admires the new rope alongside you. You aim to pretend you hadn’t been checking him out the whole time.

Nudging you with his shoulder, “And who said princesses couldn’t learn pirate things.”

“I’ve learnt plenty of pirate things.” You state.

“So, what are you, more princess or pirate then, dove?”

With a frown your eyes slant to him, trying to search in his gaze the motive behind the question. So many tricks are up his sleeve, he never fails to remind you that.

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

His eyes scan your face, flickering over you. A tick of silence, and then he curtly nods, “Well, they say practice makes perfect, so don’t think we’re done yet.”

He intends on spending this afternoon with you, regardless of what other things he should be doing.

“I thought it was my turn to teach you something.”

“What? Like how to manage my table manners?”

You can only roll your eyes.

And to be fair, you did plenty of that as the blue sky bled into sunset.

“No, you dolt. If you picked up that fork first they’d barrate you on the spot.”

“Whatever,” he’d sighed, “I find getting your hands dirty with a good meal is the only way to eat something.”

The evil smirk on his face as he’d said that was all telling.

The two of you did both lots of thinking and lots of talking. Lapsing between periods of comfortable silence and discussion.

A part of you wondered if this was his tactic to pry your guard back down. You hated yourself for letting it work, the fact you somewhat allowed him into the works of your brain again.

After finishing the last rope he wanted to replace, you’d stretched out your shoulders.

"Do y'feel accomplished?" His own arms reaching above his head.

"I feel productive, which is rare that happens.”

He starts walking in the direction towards the communal quarters, in presumption that you'd follow.

You do just that, wasting no time matching his pace.

"Thanks. For showing me." The words are hard to push pass your lips, they're clunky and almost shy. But they pack the same level of meaning.

He stops the few steps in front of you, right next to the wall of the communal quarters. He turns around so his full front is facing you. The sun has dipped below the horizon of the sea, the warm golden hour glow sinking with it.

Now it's lingering in that space of inbetween, where it’s not quite dark, but not light enough to class as sunset still.

You can almost relate.

His green eyes have pinned you to a stop as well, your hands falling to the front of your white blouse. The wind is toying with the loose material, gently, your fingers ring the ruffled bottom that cuts off midway down your ribcage.

He's been forcing himself to hold his eyes strictly to your face, not anywhere near the sweetheart neckline thats dipping to show the swell of your chest.

Can’t believe I bought that for her and thought I’d be able to not stare, he thinks internally.

"You dont have t'thank me." He answers truthfully. Despite the fact he may have mocked your lack of gratitude he wholly believes you did him a favour today.

"You showed me how to do something. Something useful, and practical." You remark cautiously, watching your tone doesn't give away too much sentiment, "I cant tell you the last time i've had that."

"Y'can read right?" he chuckles, stepping forward.

"I went to school Harry."

His eyes rolled playfully, finally breaking off you, making you feel like you can suddenly inhale again.

"What do they even teach you there."

"Table manners, exactly the knowledge I so kindly imparted on you earlier." you dryly joked, despite it being entirely true.

"How to talk, how to act, what to do, what not to do." You sigh as you think back on it, walking to go lean against the wall.

"Ooo” he hums, intrugied, "what not to do?"

You prattle off the first ones that come to mind, "Dont get caught lying, it brings dishonour. Dont curse, it displays immaturity and impurity,” a pause, and you scoff— one drilled into any royal in the court, “dont engage in any premarital relations."

His pupils are the only part of him that reacts at the mention of the third rule you listed, they dilate and almost shake with the intensity he’s staring at you with.

A shrug of your shoulders, "That one gets surpassed all the time though.”

At your words, his brows twitch, he thinks you're talking about yourself. The look that passes over his face is unmissable. You can't pinpoint the exact emotion, and honestly, neither can he.

You are old enough to make your own decisions, he reasons. Old enough to decide if you want to...

His brain crafts a million different scenarios. They flash past faster than he can keep up with. Lingering heavily on whether or not it was consensual.

You had spoken about how men in Kelna acted around you. Whispering disgusting things, touching you. He thinks they’d be people similar to Garret, dirtbags who would’ve forced anything if they wanted it bad enough. The thought makes him livid, to his very bones.

"You look worried." You comment ambiguously, toying dangerously with the curiosity surrounding his reaction.

When he doesn’t reply, you take it a step further,

"Does my value decrease if i cant be labelled as a pure, untouched little angel?" Your tone is sarcastic, but the second the words fall from your mouth, he reacts.

His whole body tenses where he stands, and he steps closer to you.

"Y/N." A stern but bordering protective voice comes from him, a way he’s not spoken before. "Do not ever talk ‘bout yourself like that on this ship, or I swear..."

His throat tightens with anger, voice faltering and eyes fluttering with tension. A hand grabs the wall you're standing near. Knuckles white as his fingers dig into it, "I swear t’god, it makes me want to break something."

"If somethin’ happened to you in that fucking ring of psychotic royals—” He spits it out like the thought disgusted him, “You're a human being, not a slab of meat."

It’s not often he feels the need to genuinely punch something. Someone. But right now anyone that has ever done something to you is on his immediate black list.

In the back of his brain, he recognises that in your eyes he’s equally a bad person for what he’s done to you. He stands here a hypocrite.

Furious at anyone whose ever hurt you, yet being the very person that’s holding you somewhere against your will.

The tension rolls around in your stomach, almost making it ache with the sudden anxiety. You’re so utterly confused with how to feel in this situation you force your mouth to move,

"For the record, i was not talking about myself." The clarification comes out meek despite trying to keep your tone unbothered.

He doesn’t attempt to hide his feelings, face contorted into a sneer, “Wouldn't put it past those pigs."

“No one did that to me.” You amend again, this time, your own tone stern.

“Alright Y/N, what did they fucking do to you then?” His question forces you relive every unwanted advance you’ve had to uncomfortably sit through.

Every ‘accidental’ hand placement, every provocative comment directed to you, every situation that made bile from your stomach rise into your throat.

Somehow, you find it in you to argue back, even though you don’t believe Kelna is even a shred better than a ship of pirates, "Its not like im safe in your world either."

It’s clear this is his tipping point.

The heart in his chest clenches and his body is moving before he can register it.

Because suddenly, the space surrounding you is being entirely filled, he grabs you with his hands. There’s not a sliver of violence in it at all, but it does make you jump.

Regardless, he sinks his hands into your hair. He can’t help it, curling them gently into the soft strands at the nape of your neck.

Despite how pissed he is, his touch is nothing but gentle.

It causes you to shudder, unsure if it’s out of unease or somehow a little bit of pleasure— the feeling his ringed fingers graze across the nerves that typically lay behind your hair untouched.

They ping around in your muddled brain, electromagnetic signals making you light headed. It’s overwhelming, how did this even happen?

Even with the soft touch of his fingers, the look behind his hard gaze makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

“I…” you try to make words, yet nothing comes out. Hands against skin are all you can make sense of.

It’s tangible, they’re there. If your strip everything else away, it’s just someone holding you.

Someone touching you softly. Someone who you—deep down, no matter how hard you try to feel otherwise—are okay with touching you.

You can swallow that pill. If only you could make it that simple, of course.

“Harry.”

One thing he’s learnt since having you around is that he can’t handle the way his name sounds when it comes out of your mouth.

Especially not with that whined tone. When it falls from your lips like a plea.

He can’t seem to find the words either. Your feet are planted between his and your own hands are braced on his hips.

“Dove, y’can’t keep bloody doin’ this to me.”

“I’m not doing anything to you,” his hands slide to your face, they cradle your cheeks, “Harry im just standing here. I’m telling you the truth.”

His face feels so close to yours, you swear you can feel the breath that passes through his lips meet your own.

Intimate almost, if you think about it hard enough.

“I don’t care about that, I care about you.”

“You can’t do this to me!” You whine, pushing his hands away, stumbling back. Breaking that connection by force if you have to.

You don’t remember how you ended up like this, with your blood pulsing in your ears and your chest heaving so hard your ribs could break.

Exasperated, “I am fine! I am okay!”

He is at a loss for words. You are so complex, so intricate. His curiosity for you deepens, even when he thinks it can’t anymore.

“I do not need any kind of pity, there is nothing to pity!”

“They made you not trust people.” He says with disgust.

You cant believe he can say that when he literally kidnapped you. And although he’s right to a degree, this experience hasn’t been great for your trust issues either.

“This world made me not trust people.” You gesture out to the ship around you, in sheer disbelief, “I’m standing on a fucking boat in the middle of nowhere because nothing is okay!”

Yelling against the wind, “Because the only thing people care about is themselves, and what they can gain from exploiting others.”

“I am a fucking object to everyone I’ve ever met.”

A part of his heart cracks hearing this, he has to physically restrain himself from stepping closer to you.

Space, give her space, his brain urges him— despite his physical body begging to do the opposite.

“Y/N,” his voice attempts to stay level. He watches your reaction.

Like a timid yet fired up animal, your hair is being thrown by the wind, pupils wild.

“There’s nothin’ i can say that will justify any of this. I know tha’.”

“There’s not.” You snapped, eyes threatening an emotion you can’t imagine letting out around him.

Crying is another thing frowned upon in the court, not unless the circumstance is so dire it warrants it.

You think for a second that you’re going to have the strength to pull yourself together, but suddenly, a wet and salty tear slips past your waterline.

The humiliation inside you that followed the single tear that just slid down your cheek would be enough to crush a grown man.

You knew he’d seen it, your face is flaming with embarrassment.

“This— this conversation is over.” You curtly reply, voice worn as you force out a tone reserved for Kelna.

The way you’re speaking to him like an associate causes him to move, “Y/N, stop—“

But your feet are suddenly moving, “Do not follow me.”

The warning is clear, he hesitates into a stop. Debating what to do.

Give you space or force you to stay in his company?

The conflicting thoughts on his face are clear.

Yet he swallows, and nods.

Then you turn around and walk away.

———

He forced himself to wait an hour. An excruciatingly long one.

After he watched you walk away, he went into where his crewmates were. Predicatably, they were sharing pints and throwing darts. The room was warmly lit, filled with chatter that echoed inside the dark wooden walls. A few of the boys asked where you were as Harry passed them. He could only lie.

“Tired after working.” Was his chosen reply, hoping now was the time more than ever that the crew just took his word for something.

“Probably the hardest she’s ever worked aye?” Tanner drunkenly joked to him, patting his back and throwing another sip of beer back.

Harry had to refrain from shooting him a look. Despite it being something he’d likely say himself, right at that moment, all he felt was worry for you. Even a shred of defensiveness, but that’s a feeling he has to shove down for the moment.

Making way to the cupboards that held their fair share of staple pirate beverages, he pulled a metal flask out and leaned against the bar top.

He forced himself to act as though he was unbothered, and that he was interested in the games of darts unfolding.

However his brain was heavily preoccupied,

Is she okay? Did I do the right thing letting her have time to herself? Is she mad at me?

Questions ran on loop, running a hand through his curls he struggled to reason with himself.

A hand was placed on his back, that interrupted his spiralling thoughts as he sipped at the flask of whiskey. A short sideways glance revealed his blonde haired crew mate.

“Y’seem off.” He quietly remarked.

Niall, often unserious, was surprisingly good at knowing when something was up. And even better at handling it discretely.

Due to that, Harry let out a short sigh through his nose before admitting a shred of truth.

“May have struck a cord with her.”

“Go too far with something, mate?” He asks quietly, curiously.

“No,” he frowns, unsure if he’s insinuating something else, he quickly clarifys, “was talking about the courts, got her upset.”

Niall’s blue eyes dart to meet his captains. Allowing a curt nod before looking back out to their crewmates that are fake tackling eachother over a stolen swig of beer.

“Y’checked on her yet?”

“Givin’ her space. She’s not too happy w’me at the minute.”

He lets out a light snort, “Good choice. Unless she’s thrown ‘erself off the ship, then t’was a bad one.”

“Ha-ha.” He fake laughs and rolls his eyes at Niall, taking a moment to swallow down the anxiety that’s built in his throat.

He can’t avoid stressing about you.

After a few ticks of silence, Niall clears his throat,

“Jus’ careful wit her. For both your sakes.”

He adds on with a pat on the back, “here if you need cap. It’ll be alright.”

Anyone else he would’ve been annoyed for saying that, but Niall is probably wiser than Harry himself. So his advice is taken with gratitude.

“Thanks mate. I’ll be careful.”

After another half hour, he’d had enough of the ill feeling that stirred in his stomach.

He left the room to find himself outside in the now cold but still windy air. It took a second for his gaze to adjust to the darkness, immediately scanning the deck around him for you.

Without any sight of you, he checks all the places he can think you’d be. His room, the cells, the kitchen.

His heart doubles in pace every time you’re not in a place he thought.

Coming out of the kitchen, his quickened pace. Starting to walk along the deck that leads him along the perimeter of the boat.

As he gets closer to the stern of the boat, he feels genuinely sick.

What if you had—

“Y/N!” He gasps without any thought the second his eyes spot your silhouetted frame.

You’re leant against the edge of the boat, staring out into the black water that swirls beneath the ship. He thanks the stars you’re not in it right now, given he was starting to think the worst of the situation at hand.

He doesn’t give you any time to talk before his long strides are invading your personal space. Warm hands coming to your cheeks, turning them to inspect your face for any damage, as though you are some kind of treasure to him.

“Im sorry.” He immediately begins.

“I shouldn’t have pushed m’luck.”

Your eyes scan his, taking in his face as his hands have come to rest in the crook where your neck and shoulders meet.

You still haven’t said anything, which isn’t working in his favour because his words are filling the silence, becoming more risky with each passing second.

“Jus’… the idea of something like that happening to you made me…” his thumbs stroke upwards along the valley of your throat subconsciously, “makes me fuckin’ sick.”

Your lips part as he begins to spill things he probably shouldn’t. Swearing that he can probably feel your pulse in your neck where his fingers lay.

He can’t stop now, “hearing you talk about y’self like that, like y’an object... I know I am no better than any average person in the Kelna courts for what I’ve done to you. But I promise you that I’d take a dagger to my own hands till there was nothing left of them before I ever let something of that nature happen to you…”

A deep breath and he shakes his head, “Not without your permission, darling.”

He doesn’t even care what that’s insinuating. Never does he want you under the impression he has control of you in a sexual regard.

The thought of you even believing that made him sick.

The air around you feels pressurised, and it’s like you’re about to spill even more out to him.

“I am being held captive, yet I’ve never felt more fucking free. How fucked is that?”

He is silent to your admission, shocked into it almost.

“You don’t understand how it feels to go from having to watch your every move, every word, just to stay alive. You are loved with conditions.”

Your voice suddenly heavy with anger again, “People cannot be trusted, everything is always two-sided, no matter what they say to portray otherwise.”

His hands have slipped from you, you’ve started pacing the deck and throwing your own hands out as bouts of sheer outrage wash over you.

“Here, god— you’re atleast half fucking honest with me. I don’t have to conform to any stupid rules to how I speak or sit or dress. I can swear at you, and you only raise the stakes.”

He can’t really fathom that you’re not speaking less of him. That you’re admitting that the life you lead on the ship as a hostage is better than as a princess.

“And I go against every promise I made to myself when I woke up here. I would let you do anything to me, Harry. Do you not understand that? How hard that is to live with everyday?”

“y’implying a lot right now…” he answers.

“You have my permission!” You spit out, pissed off now. At him, for being so charming and handsome that you’ve wound up as the lamb that fell for the lion. And pissed at yourself for being so unable to halt your snowballing emotions for him.

You’re self aware enough to know you’re an idiot, yet you’re still in the same position nonetheless. You’re also going to blame it your lack of education on how to handle sexy pirates that kidnap you for ransom money.

All the same, you’ve come aware that you’d let him do anything to you. You’d do anything to him.

God forbid the day you would do anything for him.

You’re terrified because whether or not this is some kind of fucked up situation of Stockholm Syndrome, you’re too deep in it to turn back now.

“Fucking Jesus Christ…” he curses to the sky, stepping towards you where you’re pacing.

“I hate you, you know! For putting me in this position.” You point at him, stating with contempt once you lock eyes.

“Y/N. Stop.” His voice has dropped several octaves. The wind has urged the curls that usually sit pushed back to fall over his eyes and forehead. Standing over you, his gaze is pinning you to the spot.

His brows are furrowed in an unreadable expression, but you don’t care. Right now, everything you have is about to go on the line.

“Stop what? Telling you that there’s something going on with me— with us here?” You gesture between the two of you.

“Am I meant to tell you that I—“ His hands come to your waist and urge you backwards against the edge of the ship.

The low of your back is pressed into the wooden beam, something you should be scared about realistically, but his hold around you is tight.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He says, “whatever you’re about to say, keep it to yourself.”

“Can’t handle the truth, Captain?”

He tips your chin with his hand, bringing your head on an angle to look him in the eyes, “You won’t be able to handle what comes after that, Princess.”

You’re unsure when both of your breathing became short and laboured. His panting chest made your head physically spin.

“What? Are you gonna put me down in the cells, hang my by the chains on the walls?”

His exhale stutters out of parted lips, “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Ignoring your problems does nothing, Harry. They keep getting bigger while you hide from them. Out of sight out of mind doesn’t work the way you think it does.”

Your frustration easily spreads to him, pushing him closer to a point neither of you can come back from.

His hands grab yours suddenly, they wrap around your wrists and hold them tight between you both. Like he’s grasping for any element of control he has left before everything spirals.

“There is no problem here, Y/N.” He whispers into your ear, voice stern, “do not make one.”

The tension between you both is absolutely palpable, his body is so close to yours it’s spinning your senses haywire.

“So we what? Go back to your room and act like nothings going on… I go get into your bed, and I let you wrap your hands around me like it’s just— it’s just…”

There’s not even a word for it, your voice trails off. His breath hot against your ear, and his one hand still tight around your two wrists.

Fuck it, fuck this, you think.

You turn your face to his, noses bumping.

It’s like the pull between your lips is so strong it’s easier to give in than put an inch of distance between them.

Your body squirms against his. It’s making him wild, he needs you so bad it’s going to break him.

“Not doing it.” He pants out, voice so deep it sounds like he just woke up.

“Not kissing me?”

“Nope.”

“Im giving you permission.”

“Numbing your problems doesn’t make them go away. Feeding into them only makes them worse.” His eyes fluttered shut, brows in a deep frown as he holds himself back with every part of his being.

“So you admit there’s a problem.” Your voice sounds dignified.

The metaphor of your situation has taken on a nickname clearly, and you’re not sure if it’s helping at all.

You nudge your nose into his again, his head falls into a tilt. His mouth so easy to access…

A dance between you ensues. Your mouth moves forward but his moves back.

“It’s so wrong…” he whispers, tongue jutting out to wet his lips. They’re left parted open, air escaping and fanning onto your own.

“I want to rip your shirt off your body right now, how’s that for wrong?”

“if I kiss you, Y/N,” he begins, breath stuck in his throat, “I’ll never be able to send you back.”

And how wrong is it for you to admit that’s beginning to become exactly what you want.

A stretch of silence, and you finally just lean into him. The second your lips meet his, your whole body melts.

Air empties out of his lungs in sweet relief, he swears for a moment he feels so lightheaded that he’s dreaming this whole moment up.

The hand wrapped around your wrists slides off and finds refuge on your waist. A voice in his subconscious is selfishly begging your own soft fingers to touch him wherever they can.

It appears words are suddenly useless to you both, and all that’s important is the kiss that is finally happening.

The meaning behind it weighs like a tonne of bricks, yet somehow makes it all the better. It shows in the way his mouth moves against yours like velvet, kissing back into your upper lip like he’s desperate for you.

He still recalls the first time he caught himself thinking about kissing you.

You were down in the cells, playing the waiting game after pushing him one step too far. It’d been over a day since he’d pulled you out of the water you’d thrown yourself in.

The sun was hot on his skin as he thought of your fully soaked body that he pressed into the hull of his ship. He remembered looking up to your lips as he untied your bound wrists.

They were glossy with water from the sea.

As he thought about, he only could imagine tasting them. Kissing over the salt water until they no longer shone with ocean drops, but with his saliva instead.

He had to physically shake his head at himself. Blaming it on not having been laid in so long.

Didn’t take long to release that was far from the problem when it came to his unseemly attraction to you.

A deep whine sounds from your chest, drawing him back to the present, and he pushes his body as far into your space as it can. You’re physically pinned against the edge of the ship. Theres not a care in the world at the endlessly deep swell of water thats just past you.

You don’t even remember when tongue started getting involved, nor when exactly you worked up the courage to lick into his mouth.

It’s hot, so hot.

His body feels like it’s on fire, and your hands feel that tangible warmth as they slide underneath the purple silk covering his chest.

That heat isn’t just budding in chests, it’s striking hot between legs. Only growing worse by the minute.

“My fuckin’ god…” he groans into your mouth, hands squeezing the swell of your chest.

“You taste devine, angel…”

His words make you tipsy. You smile and kiss him harder, letting his hands roam your body like you’ve never touched eachother before.

Despite the nights he’s dragged a delicate touch along your back and the skin over your waist, it’s nothing compared to this. It’s like you’ve never felt him before. The way his tongue glides against the roof of your mouth skilfully, and firm yet gentle hands are palming the flesh between your ass and thighs.

He’s wasted no time roaming and squeezing every inch of your skin, even over clothes he’s desperately trying to commit it to memory. Rubbing over the swell of your ass like you’re the only thing in the world he wants this bad.

“Harry.” There it was, his name.

The way it falls from your kiss swollen lips in that same pretty plea that sends him spiraling every single time. Yet it was so, so different in this moment.

Sheer pleasure courses through him, and he pulls your leg up to bracket his hip, letting him push himself closer into you. Imagining what lay between the peak of your thighs.

Wishing to see the state of you, wondering if this situation has worked you up to the same extent as him.

You can feel him, every inch. Every hard slab of muscle is pressed into you, warmth radiating off him like rays of the sun.

“My name.” He murmurs into your lips, “Say it again.”

His kiss trails down your neck, sucking gently over your pulse before licking a stripe back up your throat. His saliva leaving a hot, wet trail behind.

“Harry, please… more.” You don’t even have to try, the words all come from your mouth like it’s your only purpose.

His prick is swollen in the black trousers he’s in, shamelessly being pushed into your thigh. The feeling, it’s like heaven. You don’t have any single other way to explain it.

He’s behind layers of clothing and he’s pretty sure this is better than any sex he’s ever had.

Your little experience with genuine sexual interactions has not stopped you at all. And reflecting on every past experience of a sexual nature, they fall incomparably flat to this.

Despite the majority of them being unwanted advances, even the few you engaged in— mostly with random strangers at ballroom parties— were nothing to this.

They took place in dim hallways and in secluded gardens, the kisses were always slimy, laced with the intention of taking anything from you they feasibly could. You always stopped it when you released you felt no desire to go further.

This, however, was happening because no matter how hard you both attempted to deny it, you both wanted it. Wanted eachother.

And this time, all you felt was desire.

Your hand comes down to suddenly cup the bulge of his cock between you. He moans at the feeling, rocking into your palm shamelessly.

“Fuck— I could come jus’ like this. Against your innocent little hand…” he curses into your neck, making your mind swirl with his lustful and dirty words.

“Tha’s no fun though.” He amends, swollen lips coming up to your ear, “Not when I could take you back to our bed…”

Our bed… your hazy brain notes, trying to commit it to memory as his tongue drags lightly over the shell of your ear.

“I could leave your hands free, so you could lace them into my hair. Pulling on it like I know you would while I lick into you, Angel.”

“Or would you prefer them bound up against the headboard? Just as we’ve always joked, all tied up. At my mercy.”

“Please… Harry.” Your whole body feels like it’s been set alight, the pulsing between your legs so intense it made your knees weak.

“Please what, dove? Or you don’t care? As long as someone is looking after that pretty place down here, hmm…”

His hand meets the fabric between your legs, both of you now rutting into each others palms.

You can’t help but whine, “it hurts… Harry. Fuck…”

He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss your lips. He can’t believe you’re so worked up you’re telling him its physically hurting you. He thought it was just him, with his cock so hard he is bordering on being in pain.

“Cmon,” he starts to pull you back, your body leaving the dangerous edge of the boat.

But you hardly can figure out how to walk, almost like a little spring doe. Knees struggling to function.

He picks you up effortlessly by your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. Your arms naturally draping over his broad shoulders, tangling into his messy brown hair.

You whine and push into his chest without any thought. Attempting any kind of friction you can, causing his to laugh. His eyes finding yours, “you’re so needy you’re grinding against my chest…”

His long legs make quick distance across the boat, out of the cool wind and through the winding halls below deck.

Thankfully not running into a soul as he enters his room with you, locking the door swiftly behind him.

The second the latch flicks in place, his lips are back against yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate, open mouths pushing against eachother like you’ve been apart for weeks.

You’re moaning into his mouth as he squeezes your ass in the dark room. Walking over to his bed, still holding you against him as he climbs atop the mattress.

He lets your back drift down until it meets the plush comforter, but your legs still elevated by his. Ass against his thighs, and his erection tightly pushed against you.

He follows your lips the whole way down, hands rolling up and down your body, lingering against your breasts as he nicks your bottom lip with his teeth.

“This okay?” He breathes out, making sure you’re alright.

“Yes…” You nod, responding without even a second between his question.

He soaks up the feeling that swells in his chest as you consent to him. You said it without an ounce of hesitation. He’s almost feeling honoured.

“This is on your terms, my Princess… you tell me to stop and I stop.”

My. Your brain struggled to compute his possessive words.

My Princess.

You drag your hands up his back, sliding them all the way to his cheekbones.

Your eyes find his.

They lock with intensity. Green gaze piercing into your soul.

Silence ticks over between you, only filled by the panting of your breaths.

Your thumb slips down to his plump lips, pulling down his bottom one. The pad of your finger tracing over its fullness, dipping into the wetness that coats it.

He allows it, eyes fluttering at the gentle yet seductive touch.

He is so gorgeous.

When your thumb is wet with his saliva, you bring it back down to your mouth. He watches you, the action so small yet so utterly filthy as you draw your finger into your mouth. Taking it between your own lips and sucking it clean.

Once you draw it out of your mouth, you keep your big eyes looking at him, “You have my permission, Captain.”

He curses at your words, and they kick him back into gear. His body folds over yours again, meeting your lips with his— fuelled with a fever that makes his head spin.

He tastes like whiskey, and you feel simply drunk off of it. You want to drink him up. He is the warm, tingly feeling in your throat after throwing back a shot of the brown liquor.

His mouth moves down your neck again, kissing and licking as far as your clothes will allow. He gets to the very top of your chest before the fabric gets in the way. Having half the mind to just mouth over your nipple anyway.

But, it’s the satisfaction that’s to come with stripping it off of you. The very clothes he bought.

Fingers shuck the material up over your chest, and your arms lift up instinctively to help him get it off. He’s surprised to see you were without a bra.

There you lay, arms up above your head, back arched against the mattress, and your beautiful chest on display for him.

“Oh, dove… you are a work of art.” He coos, hands immediately coming to run against the soft skin of your breasts.

He stares intently in the dark, suddenly asking, “Can I light a candle?”

His voice is hasty, “I can see you, but not s’well as I would if there was a bit of light.”

“Want t’see your skin coated in that warm light,” he leans down, voice dropping into a whisper, “and so I can watch y’nipples harden when I wrap my mouth ‘round them.”

You nod quickly as you speak a desperate yes, squirming at the idea.

It would be unfair for you also, not to see his chest and tattoos while you two did whatever this was together.

He pecks a chaste kiss over your lips.

“Thank,” kiss.

“…you.” another gentle kiss.

He slides upright, struggling to tear his eyes off of you as he fumbles for a match to light the candle on the sconce mounted to his wall.

You hear the match flick alight, and the room suddenly being cast on a golden glow as he brings the flame to the wick.

Discarding of the match, he wastes no time coming back to where you lay— hair fanned out underneath you. He stands at the edge of the bed, staring breathlessly at you.

He had hummed the second he saw you—properly saw you. Your cheeks are flushed red, beautiful brows upturned into an expression of sheer want.

“Let me take yours off,” you gesture with your eyes to his own shirt, “please?”

“C’mere then.”

You bring yourself up, knees to the edge of his bed. Your hands lift the purple fabric over him, and suddenly the tan, chiseled skin you eye off so often is finally yours to freely touch.

Tattoos and muscles, fine hairs and freckles, he is the embodiment of beauty and sex.

You run soft hands over his abs, the muscles almost rippling as he feels the skin to skin contact. Throwing his head back, he groans into the tension filled air.

Hands wrap around your bare waist, pulling you flush against him, chest to chest.

He follows through with exactly what he’d said moments earlier, kissing a trail down to your breasts before wrapping his soft mouth around the peak of one of them.

Wet and hot, his tongue sucks and swirls until you’re moaning embarrassingly loud. You react like you’ve never felt someone like this before, because truthfully, you hadn’t.

Your spine arches, pushing into his mouth and lacing your hands around his neck.

He pulls away, smirking at the hardened nipple he’s looking after, while you catch your breath.

“My turn.” You whispered, and despite your legs feeling like jelly, you kiss your own way down his chest until you meet his defined pectoral muscle.

Your lack of experience doesn’t show, you’re so eager to please him it makes you only confident. You lick against the warm skin of his chest, lulling your tongue over his own nipple— something a girl has never done to him before.

“Fuck—!” He bites out, teeth clamping down onto his lower lip.

You pay some attention to it before trailing up his shoulder, sucking the skin above his collarbone. Biting against it and making sure to leave a mark.

He slaps lightly at your ass, still covered in tight black pants, just as he is.

“You are so filthy, dove.” His voice lilts, dripping with honey,

“Who would’ve known… to look at you, no one would know you’re the kind of girl that’s going to wrap her hot little mouth on any skin she can.”

“Innocent thing you are, ready to do anything, hm?”

His nose nudges yours so he can get better access to your mouth, kissing into it again.

Merely minutes since he last had his lips on yours, and it feels like the first time all over again. It strikes and stirs hot in your stomach. Making you arch into him again, pressing your chest against his.

“So needy… you must be soaked…” his thoughts spill from his lips out loud.

“Panties that I bought you are probably wet through by now, little cunt all weepy for something it’s never had.”

“D’ya want it, baby?” His sultry voice asks.

“Harry, I want it, I want you.” You plead, and he unbuttons your black pants.

The zipper is pulled down by him, and he slides his hand in between your legs. Cupping over the fabric, it’s almost hot to touch.

“So warm in there, I can feel y’clenching around nothin’.”

He rubs softly over you, and you moan out, rutting into his hand.

His lips kiss you hot and slow as he runs tedious circles over the top of your panties.

Once you’re moaning and arching into him, he slowly retracts his hand out, “get in the middle of the bed.”

You follow his instructions moving to lay in the centre of his mattress as he shucks his pants off.

He’s in nothing but boxers as he climbs above your legs, “No one else has ever made you come, have they?”

His green eyes lock with yours,

“N-no.”

“No one’s ever wrapped their lips around your swollen clit and sucked until you finish against their tongue? Or fucked their fingers into you until you are almost crying?”

You can’t even verbally answer, only able to shake your head side to side.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, lowering down to kiss your belly as he slowly pulls your pants down from your legs.

A smirk rises on his lips as he kisses below your navel, “Then I take it no one’s ever pushed their cock into you?”

Your cheeks were burning as you squeezed your thighs together, only in black lacy panties that he bought you.

“Alright baby,” he smirks, “look at you then, in this little pair of black underwear I got ya. Did you think about what was going through my head as I picked them out?”

“Never thought I’d be privledged enough to see y’in them.”

The warm candle highlights the goosebumps that have already prickled over your skin, each kiss he’s pressed to your bare body has made them spread like wildfire.

He takes his time to tease you, lips lulling over your lower stomach, tongue tracing the upper band of your underwear.

This continues until you’re begging him for anything, “I can’t— h— fuck… Harry.”

Your speech is slurred like you’re half awake, “Please touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He stated, green eyes flickering up to yours, face with devilish intent.

“More…” was the only word you could sigh out to him, unable to hold eye contact with him for longer than a second.

His hand comes to the back of your knee, pushing it up so your legs spread. He licks a slow, pleasing stripe against the dip between your thigh and where you want him the most.

Your hips jut upwards, and his fingers trace over your centre above the fabric covering it. As you whine wordlessly into the comforter, he tucks his finger into the edge seam of your panties. Pulling the elastic back and letting it snap back against your skin.

Not enough to hurt, but enough for the vibration to ripple through your core.

“Jus’ say the words, dove.” He murmurs, kissing over where your clit is.

“Take them off.” Your own hands start frantically pulling the sides down your thighs.

“Tha’s my girl.” He taps over where he just kissed with his thumb, laughing at your attempt to get them off, helping you get them all the way down. Tossing them over his shoulder, leaving them somewhere behind him to be dealt with later.

His eyes finally lock onto your bare body. Entirely naked.

How badly you want him is evident, and his fingers immediately move to run down your dripping centre.

“You…” he speaks, voice raspy and dripping with desire, “are a fucking angel.”

“Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Fuckin’ hell. The things im going to do to you if you’ll let me.”

The second they glide down you, grazing over your entrance, all conscious thoughts and conscious movement disappear. Almost like a magic trick. Suddenly everything you do is automatic, like your breathing or your heart beating. You have no conscious play in it.

This includes the words coming from your mouth.

“Finger me.” You moan shamelessly, clenching around nothing as he touches you.

He almost groans at your request, “Mm, well I gotta stretch you out, hey?”

Taking a few moments to rub over you slowly, he eventually slides his middle finger into you. It glides in so smoothly. Even just the idea of his hands touching you this way has you completely melted, your back arching off the mattress as he moves in and out gently, the subtle rolling inside you enough to send you insane.

“C’mon dove, let me taste.” He pushes your legs open wider.

No part of you registers what he’s saying until his lips attach to your clit, licking over your arousal that’s spread entirely over your core.

“God!” You cry out as he flicks his tongue and curls his finger, the combination heavenly.

It’s bliss for him just watching you, the way your body reacts to every little touch he administers.

Another finger pushing into you and you’re already a mess around his hand and mouth. At whatever point he thought you couldn’t get any wetter, he was entirely wrong.

“Y’gushing around me, baby. Two fingers and you’re clenching like you could finish jus’ like this— so tight too.” His words are spoken against you, and the vibration just makes you fall deeper and deeper.

“Feel so good, Harry.” You moan out, hands finally finding his soft curls. Wrapping around them and tugging his face into you.

The scene is erotic. Pink lips against you, fingers pushed into you. Same tan arm holding onto your leg that you’ve stared at many times before.

His cock is aching while he does this to you, hearing you whine his name like a broken record as he picks up the intensity. Tongue and fingers forming a rhythm, one that quickly is building an intense heat in the low of your stomach.

Sitting up, he removes his fingers without warning as he repositions himself. You immediately miss the feeling of him inside of you, somewhere in the back of your head wondering how you’re ever going to go without the sensation.

It blips suddenly to wondering what the fuck you’re both going to do after tonight… something that would make you overthink into a deadly spiral usually. But it’s quickly forgotten about again when he rests on his knees between your spread legs, and pulls your ass up onto his thighs.

Your legs are spread open completely, he has a view of you he’s only ever dreamed of. Your wet glistening cunt in front of him, entirely his to please tonight.

You’re still babbling out his name like a mantra, mixed with a few different sighed words. Varying from “please” to “fuck” to “touch me”.

They get lodged in your throat when you watch him dip down and lick along you completely. Spitting onto your clit once he gets to it.

Fucking filthy.

You loved it.

His free hand reaches to touch your chest, rocking his tongue against you. Mixing spit and arousal together over your swollen core.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” He moans into you, flicking his tongue over your entrance.

He’s eating you out so damn well you want to suck him off desperately in attempt to thank him.

It doesn’t take long before the same hand that was pressed into your breast, tweaking your sensitive nipples his sliding back down along your waist.

“Three,” he murmurs into you, “reckon you can take that like a good girl?”

“Yea… yea!” You eagerly nod, your own hand coming to squeeze your breast, “need to feel you.”

“You are so fuckin’ dirty… beggin’ t’take more n’ more of me.”

He holds the back of your thigh as he works to push in a third finger. This one burns, you never put more than two of your own fingers inside of you. And compared to his— size wise— they don’t measure up in the slightest.

The pinch you feel is a mixture of pleasure and pain. But your body registers the sensation that feels otherworldly as you stretch around him.

“Harry!” You whine out, hips stuttering as he slowly curls his three fingers inside of you, “Holy shit.”

He moved feverishly, showing clearly how bad he wants you to come. He wants to watch you entirely unravel between his touch.

Everything is starting to build up in your stomach, the pressure twisting and clenching. Your hand comes up to your own hair, fisting through it at the intensity.

He pumps his fingers in fast, quick movements, curling them quickly inside of you as he watches in complete awe at your bodies reaction to him. Your back is arching, lips whining out beautiful sounds, a light dusting of sweat shines between your chest.

“Taking it so well,” he murmurs, leaning down to attach his lips to your clit as he continues fucking you with his fingers.

The second his tongue swirls over you, you realise you’re about to loose it.

“H-harry—“ the sheer desperation in your voice tells him all he needs to know, along with the pulsating of your entrance.

“Don’t stop…” pleading to him, “i— im gonna come.”

He smiles against you, sucking harshly as you start to squirm and pant underneath him.

“Want to watch it,” he presses a kiss above your clit, “want to watch every second of it.”

You nod feverishly, head starting to spin and body starting to feel like it’s floating.

“Are you gonna show me, dove? Show me just how good im making y’feel?” His voice is seductively low.

“Don’t want you holding back, I want to hear you.”

“Harry.” The thrust of his hand is beginning to tip you over the edge, his words only bringing you closer.

He leans his body over yours, mouth coming to kiss over you. Trailing up your chest until his lips meet yours.

The kiss is open-mouthed and desperate as you moan into it.

You want his fingers as deep as they can possibly fit into you, and you suddenly are verbalising this, “harder, deeper, please…”

“Want it rough, baby. I’ll give you rough.” He chuckles against you.

All the sudden, his pace quickens, and he’s pushing them in and out of you at a rate your brain can’t even keep up with.

The feeling of the palm of his hand slapping against your clit makes your whole body seize up, you cry out in pleasure as he talks in your ear.

“Cmon, let it all out baby.” He coos, voice soft compared to his movements.

Your moans are loud and stuttered out at each thrust. Starting to shake as your stomach tightens, “Please, please!”

His movements don’t falter for a second, and suddenly your orgasm hits you like a train. Whole body shaking as you clench around his fingers.

He even moans as he feels you finish, imagining how it would feel to have your cunt squeezing his cock instead.

You cry out his name so loud it echoes through his bedroom, all while he rocks his fingers through your orgasm.

“That’s it angel,” palm hitting your clit to make you clench again, drawing out the pleasure, “fucking gorgeous…”

“So beautiful, letting me watch your face screw up as you came all over my hand.”

“Can’t wait to have my face down there someday.”

The thought makes you writhe against him, “maybe later, hm?”

“I’ll get my tongue inside of you, play with that pretty clit until you do that all again… finish on m’face.”

He’s dirty talking you as you come down, and even when he finally draws his fingers out of you, you can’t help but want more.

Unsure if it’s just him telling you all the stuff he wants to do, or just how badly you want him in general, you realise how worked up you still are.

Not often would you orgasm and still be craving more, but right now you swear you could be doing this all night with him.

His soaked fingers run up between your chest and come to his mouth. His green eyes finding yours as he sucks them clean, humming as he tastes you.

“Fuck me—“ a sudden burst of energy comes to you, hands coming to push yourself to sit up. During it all, you’d slid off his lap and back down onto the mattress.

“Let me suck your cock.”

He’d straightened upright along with you, sitting back on his knees as he had been earlier.

His brows shot up in surprise as you suddenly had this new found energy, “baby— you haven’t even fully come down yet, just have a moment.”

“Harry.” Your gaze snaps to him, “im going to suck you off until you decide you’re going to fuck me, okay?”

“I need you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ.” He curses, throwing his head back. His cock is aching, and he can’t even imagine saying no to that.

“I’m gonna struggle not to finish the second you wrap your lips around me, princess.”

“You can hold it, captain. I want to taste you.”

It doesn’t take you long before you’re pushing him backwards, making his legs stretch out as you kiss him quickly.

He hums into your mouth as you palm at his briefs, squeezing the fabric over his hard cock.

You move to pull his briefs down his thighs, listening to him groan once he is finally out of the tight confines. Pulling away from his warm lips, you look down between you.

Jesus Christ.

Of course the Captain was heavily equipped.

The tip of him was flushed and swollen, you just knew how well it would fill your mouth. He was the embodiment of pure sex. Everything about him.

“Can i?” You glance up, looking at the way his plump bottom lip is taken between his white teeth.

He nods quickly, fluttering his eyes as he pictures the mental image of what you’re about to do to him. How much this is about to fuck him up.

Not having to imagine long. Your body sinks down, knees pushing back on the comforter as you half lay between his legs.

“God—“ he draws out, you haven’t even touched him, but the sight of you is enough to make his head spin.

Your bare ass and the arch of your back is all he can pay attention to as you rest on your elbows between his thighs.

“You look so…” he struggles to find the word, and the thought will never be completed. Your hands wrap gingerly around him, and although you’re unsure how to go about pleasing him, you waste no time licking along the underside of him.

“Fuck!” He spits out immediately, hips flexing upward at the touch.

Lips wrapping over his head, you just go with what feels natural, sucking the tip gently, careful not to nick him with your teeth.

“Y/N.” He sighs out your name, letting you envelop his senses entirely.

He doesn’t know how long he’s going to be able to hold out from finishing in your mouth. He’s already feeling that tightness spread across his abdomen, and you haven’t even been on him for a whole minute.

You hum around him in response to your name, hands sliding up his thighs and meeting the muscles of his chest. Selfishly you palm over the hard slabs, watching his brows furrow in pleasure as you slip further down his length.

Hollowing your cheeks you suck around him, moving up and down gently as his hand laces into your hair.

“You… your mouth is like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Could sit here all night with that thing wrapped around me.”

You revel in the idea, saliva dripping down his cock as you draw back up to having only his tip between your lips. Gently pulling off to talk, “I’d do it.”

He feverishly lets his head fall back, pulling at the hair he’s got between his fingers.

“You’d be a good girl and warm my cock all night with that mouth of yours?”

You nod as he leans down to pull your face up to his, kissing your lips without shame of where they’d just been.

He slides his tongue into your mouth, drawing across your bottom lip, “Another night baby. You wanted me inside of you, so you’ll get that.”

“A little longer on you, please.” You whine, wanting to please him with your mouth just like he had for you.

The briefs hanging onto his thighs get pulled all the way off before your body leans back down, kissing over his length and sucking harshly at certain sides of him.

Who is he to say no to you.

Licking along him, you drag your tongue over his tip before sliding your lips down him again. This time you move faster, and he is trying to keep his thoughts controlled as you fill your mouth with as much of him as you can without gagging.

“Good girl,” he moans, watching your ass rise and fall with each bob of your head.

His prick is practically dripping with your saliva, and he don’t think he’s ever felt a better feeling in his life.

So good that he can only go so long before he’s swearing, and pulling at your hair, “Fuck— Y/N I’m going to come if y’don’t stop.”

You hum around him, having half the mind to just keep going so you can taste him fully. Somehow he finds the strength to hold it off, “No, baby, take your mouth off— please.”

You slide off him with a pop, looking up at him with swollen lips.

The sensation of your mouth trailing up him had him teetering on the edge of his high, “Fuck,” his hips stuttering against nothing as his head is thrown back. Attempting to push down the feeling he was so close to giving into.

Its so hot. Watching his frown get deeper as he screws his eyes shut, all the hard muscles on his body tightening.

His hand comes to his hair as he pulls on it, the orgasm he was so close to was finally receding. You’d just unintentionally edged him.

“Y’so fucking horny.” He pants, “can’t even wait to have me inside you.”

He lifts you up by your arms and pulls you on top of him, chest to chest. You can feel his length curving against your ass as his lips come down to suck on your nipple. Licking over it harshly without mercy.

“Want you to fuck me senseless, Harry.” You moan, back arching into him as you grind down against him, arousal practically dripping down onto his cock.

“Please,” you begin to beg as he works over your breast. You can’t seem to stop the words flowing from your lips, “I want you so bad.”

His mouth moves off your hardened nipple, looking you in the eyes, sighing out a deep breath.

You search his unreadable gaze, and there’s a sudden blanket of silence that falls over you both. Maybe a hint of realisation has set in, in that what you’re about to do is irreversible.

“I jus’ want y’to be sure.” He says, sobering the intense moment.

“Think about it for a moment, okay? Just take a second.” He kisses your cheek, hands rubbing delicately on your back, “I don’t want this to be something y’regret.”

You nod slowly, pursing your lips as you genuinely take the moment to consider everything. You are about to fuck a pirate. Which isn’t even the worst part.

Still, even as you think about the situation, and all the potential repercussions, you can’t find it in yourself to want to stop.

“I know we don’t know where this is going, and we both know we shouldn’t be doing this.” You speak quietly.

He hums in agreement, his pink lips pursed as he lets you talk, “but… no. I still want this.”

“And I rarely ever get to make decisions for myself… so thank you for letting me do that.” You say, voice sounding certain.

“Don’t thank me for that, that should be your right.” He states, brows furrowed.

“Shh, let me thank you anyway.” You nudge his nose to the side, kissing him gently. Lips clicking as you both take a moment to do just that.

“I think i have condoms,” he begins.

A laugh bubbles from your chest at his uncertainty, “You think,”

Shaking his head in a sort of amusement, “I haven’t used them in a long time, dove. I don’t bring girls in here.”

“Yet here I am.”

“Yet here you are.” He hums, hoping you pick up the underlining statement in his words. You are special. Much more than just a girl he’s got in his bed for the night.

“Wanna feel you.” You whispered, implying you don’t want to use anything. And honestly, your whole body ached to feel him for the first time without a condom on. Especially since you knew it wasn’t an issue with it.

“The court mandates us to have a rod…”

He frowns, “what do you mean?”

“So I don’t get pregnant before I’m married. It’s fine it’s reversible… they can take it out. They do it to most girls incase we start fooling around behind their backs.”

“Fuckin’ Hell. I hate them.” He spits, “Always controlling other people bodies.”

“If you’d prefer to—“ the sentence doesn’t even make it out of your mouth before he interrupts,

“No baby, that’s your choice.“ His tone is entirely certain, not wishing to have any influence on your decision.

“As long as you don’t have some kind of pirate STD, i wanna feel you, harry.” You tease, but tone still genuine.

It causes him to laugh, “No STD’s here.”

“Alright, good.” You nod, mouth forming a grin, “I trust you, if you trust me.”

His green gaze searches yours, and you feel the weight of your words for a few seconds until he breaks the silence, “I trust you.”

Nodding, you bring your lips back to his. Giving him a chaste kiss of appreciation that he smiles into.

But now that you’ve committed, that sense of need is rushing back into you. But this time, it’s like the flood gates are open, your movements starting to get quickly eager again.

That gentle kiss quickly turns heated as you grind down over his length, excited he gets to feel you skin against skin.

He mutters into your mouth, “Perfect baby, every inch of you.”

Immensely tired of waiting, your voice whines out a plea, “Fuck me harry, please.”

“M’gonna fuck you, don’t worry.” He whispers, grabbing your hips and flipping you around. Leaving your back pressed into the pillows as he pulls your waist to his.

He looks down at you, hair fanned out and big eyes looking at him with parted lips. His own gaze dips to the supple flesh of your tits, inexplicably excited to watch them bounce as he fucks you.

You can’t help but take the opportunity to commit his stance above you to memory, the muscles of his tan chest and the dark ink of his tattoos. The thought of scratching your nails along his laurel adorning hips…

He can’t take you staring at him like that. He leans down to pepper kisses along your neck— finally grabbing himself, a hiss coming from his teeth as he rubs his tip along you and over your clit.

“Tell me if it’s too much okay?” He says, lining his head up to your soaked entrance.

You sigh out several words of agreement, clutching his shoulders as he slowly starts to push into you.

With how turned on you are, and his early preparation with his fingers, his tip slides into you with some ease. There’s still some tension as he pushes in, “Relax, dove…”

His voice is so deep. He’s still clutching onto every ounce of his control, praying he can hold himself together when he hears you whine as you’re being stretched out by his cock.

“I won’t last long if you keep squirming like tha’.” He screws his eyes shut, holding you still by the hips.

“Fuck—“ it feels so different to anything you’ve ever felt. He curves into you like it was fate, like every inch of him was tailor made to you.

“Deeper, go deeper please…” you beg, nails scratching at the messy curls on his head.

His brain works on overdrive to process the fact he’s the first person to ever do this to you. That you’re experiencing this with him for the very first time.

Virginity is a tacky term for him, in the pirate world it’s regarded as the best thing you can take from a girl. The way it’s treated disgusts him. But the only thing for him that’s important is that your first experience is the best he can give it, and that you feel safe— treasured even. Exactly how you should.

“Takin’ it so well…” He sighs out, finally all the way inside of you.

“Kiss me, Harry.” You say, and he wastes no time leaning down to capture your mouth.

Kissing him with his cock fully pressed into you is an entirely different experience. As your tongue glides against his lower lip, he stutters his hips inside of you. Hand coming to play with your clit as he starts to move gently.

You roll your body against his uncontrollably, wrapping your hands into his hair to pull his lips further into yours.

“Feels so good—“ you groan into the corner of his lips, the stimulation you’re getting feels like it’s coming from all angles. Like you could float away.

“You feel so good. So tight around me, Y/N.” He thrusts a little harder as he speaks, moving back down to kiss you. It’s also harder this time, both your tongues clashing against each other as he starts to build a pace between your legs.

He can feel how coated he is with your arousal, your cunt only growing wetter as he ruts into you.

“Do what you want to me.” You pant out, your body aching for anything he’s willing to give to you.

His green eyes are almost swallowed entirely by his pupils, “Fuck.”

“Can y’take it rough y’think?” He asks, nose bumping yours as you hold eye contact.

You nod feverishly, and it causes his head to throw itself back as he starts to work himself into you harder. Taking the opportunity, you bring your lips to suck against the arch of his throat.

He never wants this to end. He wants to take you like this all night. Change locations, fuck you on the floor, against the wall, bent over his bed, even with you pressed into the counter of the bathroom so you can watch it all in the mirror.

His throat is vibrating as he moans, you can feel it against your lips. You’re licking over his tan skin with your tongue, swearing you can feel the beat of his pulse underneath.

You start to loose yourself in him again, hands drawing down to scratch against the muscles of his chest as you clench around his cock. He is captivating at the best of times, even when you’re 5 feet apart you can get swept up by him.

It’s like a hold down under a wave, you can’t get up above the surface long enough to catch a breath. You don’t know what way is up or down, you’re spinning and all you can feel is him, he is the water glistening with rays of sun that fully surrounds you.

Now amplify that by a hundred and maybe that begins to cover how he feels while he’s inside of you.

Moans start bubbling out of you with each thrust, you feel him hitting that spot inside of you everytime he ruts back into you, balls slapping against your ass as he gives you himself exactly how you’d asked.

He moves his hand off your clit and grabs your hips, angling them up, pulling you flush against him. Entirely rough as he fucks into you at a slightly new angle, this on its own sends you wild.

Your back arches off the bed, crying out as he slams into you, your wet cunt taking him as deep as it allows. Squeezing around him so hard his jaw is going lax, curls on his head sticking to his forehead.

“Good girl,” he groans out, “taking my cock so fuckin’ well.”

“Knew how good this would feel. M’gonna want you all the fucking time.” Slapping your ass, he keeps the filthy words coming from his mouth, “Gonna be bending you over any chance I get, angel.”

“Please…” you nod feverishly, “Need you all the time, need your cock.”

His tattooed arm comes from your hip and runs up along your side, hand cupping your bouncing tits. Squeezing one of them, he then trails up your neck and coming to cradle your jaw. His thumb slides past your lips and presses into your wet mouth.

You don’t need him to even tell you, you just suck on it, letting saliva pool around his warm finger that’s rubbing circles against your tongue. He draws it in and out, rubbing over your plump lips and tracing a line down your chin. Eventually coming to flick his thumb against your nipple— your own spit coating it.

All of this, and you start to feel the pressure build in your stomach, of course you couldn’t last long as he fucked you like this.

“Harry!” His name started to come from your lips over and over again. Legs beginning to shake, heart racing in your chest.

“Gonna come?” he grunts out, “this sweet pussy gonna come around my cock? Drip all over it?”

You cry out as his body pounds against you, his hands guiding your hips into the movement as your eyes physically can’t stay open. You swear stars are beginning to explode behind them.

They squeeze shut as your whole body almost stops working. Your heart and lungs feel like they completely seize as you hang onto the peak of your orgasm for a breathless moment.

“Fuck—“ he hissed out, feeling how tight you’ve gone around him, “I’m gonna finish with you, cmon baby.”

His fingers come to quickly rub over your clit— a few fast, tight circles, and that is all it takes.

Your moan reverberates around the four walls of his room as you come for the second time, bouncing against his cock as your whole body writhes in your climax.

“Harry, I’m coming!” Your voice is pitched so high, half whine half cry as you state the obvious. As if he missed the fast clenching of your entrance around him.

“Fuck— fuck, im—“ He can’t get the sentence out as his cock starts to pulsate, his balls tightening as he realises he’s about to follow along with you.

He gives a final, deep and hard thrust that brings him to his orgasm. You feel the heat of his come inside of you as the movements of his hips become sloppy with each squeeze of his cock.

The strength of his climax is only amplified by you edging him accidentally earlier, he feels this in his bones.

“Yessss—“ The feeling of him emptying out in your cunt is like heaven, “give it all to me, Captain.”

“Want all my come huh, fuckin’ filthy thing?” He rasps, body hunched over at the heat still bursting through his whole body.

You both ride out your highs with eachother. Hands coming to touch eachother all over as your bodies begin to slow down. His palms skate over your breasts, and your own fingers run up and down his tensed arms. The two of you start to stop shaking and squeezing as the high of your orgasms naturally close out.

The sound of panting is all that fills the room. Breaths laboured and exhausted.

“Baby,” he says, sounding entirely out of breath, “took me so good.”

He leans down to kiss you gently, and you whine against his lips, unable to find the words for anything that just happened.

Slowly, you make out with eachother. Tongues licking gently along lips and against one another. An entirely different sort of intimacy from the sex you just had, and a silent form of a thank you as he slides his cock out of you.

He groans into your mouth as he does it, feeling sensitive as he slips out of your warmth. He pulls away to look at the state of you, something he’s not willing to miss.

The sight was something he wish he could capture forever— no matter how filthy it sounds. Your pussy is swollen, all fucked out as his come is starting to drip out of you.

You watch him stare, a prideful smirk on his lips at the mess he’s made of you. Chocolate curls over his forehead, cheeks and lips flushed a warm red, and his tan skin glistening in a sweat.

Looking at him is like looking at a painting.

He longs to lean down and clean you up with his mouth, but it’s clear how exhausted you both are, so he gets up instead— despite you begging him to stay, he kisses your forehead, “Just getting a cloth to clean y’up. I’m coming back.”

Running water over a washcloth in the bathroom, he comes back out to wipe the fresh and damp material over you. You whine at the touch, the area sensitive from two intense orgasms. Despite the dirty nature of it, it makes him smile softly.

Tending to you after he’s fucked you breathless is almost half the treat. Watching you smile back at him, how content you look. Knowing you’re safe in his company.

Once you’re cleaned up, he chucks the dirtied cloth back in the bathroom to be dealt with later, not wasting any more time and coming to lay back down with you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, now that your brain is clearing you’re becoming unsure what to do now. Do you act as normal? He senses your sudden unease like instinct, wrapping a hand around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

“Don’t be shy, y’fine dove.” He kisses you again, hand running over your side comfortingly, “just had m’cock in you, no room left for that.”

You nod into the gentle kiss he’s giving you, pressing your body to his as you feel less anxious now he’s affirming everything is okay.

As you both lay with eachother, softly touching skin, you wonder what this will change. How the after effects of this will alter the future.

You’re hyperaware standing on top of a precipice of change. Despite wishing you could act naive, and attempt to believe that everything can go back as it once was— you know that will never happen. It’s something you’re both excited and terrified of. But in this moment, with the way the captain of this ship is holding you, touching you, kissing you— you can’t help but feel like everything is going to be alright.

———

taglist:

@saturnheartz @slap-me-harry @ilovehsstuff @ameerakane20 @matildasatellite @harrysslut7 @sunflowersey @styleswiftie @anotheryoutubefanpage @straightontilmornin @oknothanks26 @closureesny @angel-upon @brother-lauren @maddie7writes @tenaciousperfectionunknown

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part<3

another a/n:

wow!! so hello

mini catchup on me being absent for literally half of last year!! 2024 I was sooo busy with my studies, but you’d all be proud since I pulled some really good grades last year, so my absence in creative writing field on tumblr did have a reason and at the very least paid off. but I missed posting soo much and I’m so happy to be back. unbelievably grateful for how many messages and inboxes I got about my writing over last year as well, I love you all so much.

i literally can’t believe it’s been so long since part 3 of pirates gold was released. really left yall high and dry😔 hopefully not after this part, I swear this is the longest piece I’ve ever wrote on tumblr, so I hope you all have enjoyed it. I have plenty of plans for part 5 in my notes app so yall keep ur eye out for that.

thank you for not only reading my silly authors note, but for reading this next part. your support means the world, and I am planning on being much more active this year so get excited for heaps of oneshots and other tidbits.

much love to you all, stay safe and hydrated I’ll see you very soon!!

P.S ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS I MISSED💔 I have reread this as much as my brain will allow me the last week, I will be making edits over the next little while to fix those mistakes but hopefully there’s not too many x

[koyagifs]

𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓭

pairing: yeosang x reader au: non idol | friends to strangers | genre: angst word count: 1.4k synopsis: i dont want love i cant afford. i just want you to love for free warning(s): angst w/ no comfort, cursing. mdni - suggestive content mentioned

taglist: @vixensss @gigikubolong29 @xdannix @mrskill2 @hazeljisulatte

The cold air nipped at your skin as you sat there, the soft light from the morning sun filtering in through the window. You let out another sigh, running a hand through your hair as you glanced around the room, your mind wandering to the quiet nights and the moments you spent together.

It wasn’t the first time Yeosang had disappeared without a word. He was often unpredictable, his presence fading as quickly as it arrived, leaving behind only the empty space beside you and the lingering sense of loss.

You couldn't help but wonder where he went, why he kept slipping away. The silence in the room felt heavier now, as though it was holding onto the unspoken words that had never been shared. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for him to come back, to stop looking for the signs. But a part of you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the possibility that he’d return, as he always did.

Shaking your head, you pulled the blanket tighter around you and leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. There was no use in waiting for answers that might never come. The day was starting, and you had your own life to live.

The thought stung more than you cared to admit. You shifted uncomfortably under the weight of it, unsure whether to feel anger, hurt, or resignation. The arrangement had started out as something simple—a way to relieve the tension, a momentary escape from reality. But over time, it had become a tangled web of feelings you weren’t sure how to navigate.

Yeosang’s disappearing acts were the hardest part to swallow. He would slip back into your life like nothing had happened, like the empty weeks hadn’t existed, and you would fall right back into the rhythm of your unspoken agreement. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was just sex, just a way to cope. But the more he left without a trace, the more it felt like you were the one left behind.

You rubbed your temples, feeling the tension from the night before still present in your body. Maybe you were fooling yourself—maybe you wanted more than just the temporary relief he gave. But how could you expect anything else when the rules of your ‘arrangement’ were clear from the start?

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to get out of bed, the cold air biting at your skin as you walked toward the window. The morning was quiet, the world outside moving on while you were stuck in the cycle of waiting, of hoping for something that probably wasn’t coming.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? you thought, watching the outside world go on without you.

You weren’t his, and maybe you never would be. But there was a part of you that still wished you could be. And that part was the hardest to ignore.

The moment you saw Yeosang standing there, your breath caught in your throat. It was like time had frozen, the weight of those three months without him crashing over you all at once. His wide smile seemed so out of place in the quiet hallway, and for a moment, you almost didn’t believe he was really there.

What the hell is he doing here?

Your hand tightened around the keys, and you felt a strange mix of emotions—surprise, anger, confusion, and maybe even a tinge of longing you thought you’d buried. He was standing there, like nothing had changed, like it hadn’t been months since he’d last slipped out of your life without so much as a word.

"Yn," he said softly, his voice almost too casual, as if nothing had happened, as if the time apart hadn’t meant anything to him. He took a step forward, his eyes shining with that same familiar warmth that always made your heart skip.

But you didn’t know how to respond. The past few months had been hard, but they had also given you something you hadn’t had in a while: peace. You had let go of him, stopped waiting for him to come back, stopped torturing yourself with the hope that he would change. You had built your life back, piece by piece, and now, here he was, acting like nothing had changed, like he could just waltz back into your life as if you hadn’t spent all this time healing from the wreckage he left behind.

"You—" You couldn’t even find the words at first. "You just disappeared. For three months. And now you’re back?"

Yeosang’s smile faltered, the confidence in his stance beginning to crack as he seemed to realize the tension in the air. "I… I know I’ve been gone. I just wanted to—"

"Why now?" you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. "Why after all this time?"

Yeosang hesitated, clearly caught off guard by the intensity of your response. His eyes searched your face, as though trying to read something he couldn’t quite understand. "I—I don’t know. I guess I thought… I thought you’d be around when I came back." His words were quiet, almost unsure, as if he hadn’t expected you to be so… different.

But you were different now. You weren’t the person who waited for him to return. You weren’t the one who let him come and go as he pleased. You had found a way to stand on your own, and no matter how much your heart still tugged at the sight of him, you weren’t going to let him have the same hold over you again.

"I’m not that person anymore," you finally said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. "I moved on, Yeosang. I had to."

Yeosang’s expression shifted, the realization hitting him in waves. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air thick with everything left unsaid between you.

You looked back at Yeosang as you held the door close to your body. " i dont want love i cant afford Yeo... i just want you to love for free, and it's clear that it's not with me,"

Yeosang's eyes widened at your words, and for a moment, it felt like everything around you both had stopped. The weight of what you had just said hung between you like an unspoken truth. He stood there, frozen, processing your declaration, his face a mix of regret and confusion.

"I..." he started, his voice wavering for the first time, but the words seemed to escape him. He wanted to say something, to explain, but he couldn't. He knew you were right. He knew that what you needed wasn’t something he could give, not in the way you deserved. His silence only spoke louder, louder than any apology he could have given.

The tears you had cried over him, the nights you spent waiting and wondering, all those feelings were still fresh in your chest, but now they were wrapped in a bittersweet clarity. You had given him a chance, more than he probably deserved, and it wasn’t enough for you to keep putting your heart on the line.

You took a shaky breath, the door still pressing against your body as you spoke again, this time softer but with more resolve. "I can't keep hoping for something that isn't going to happen, Yeosang. I can’t keep being the one who waits... for scraps of affection." Your voice cracked, but you steadied yourself. "I need something real, something that won't leave me questioning if I'm just a momentary distraction for you."

Yeosang's face contorted with guilt, his eyes filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. Maybe it was regret, maybe it was sorrow, but it didn’t change the reality between you two. He hadn’t been ready for this. Maybe he never would be.

The silence stretched again, this time unbearable. Finally, he nodded slowly, as if resigning himself to the truth you had laid out so plainly before him. His lips parted, but no words came.

You pushed the door just a little further, a gentle but firm signal that you were done. "Please, just go."

Yeosang lingered for a beat longer, his gaze still on you, as if he was trying to figure out if this was a dream or reality. But he didn't stay. He turned and left without another word, the sound of his footsteps fading away down the hall.

You stood there for a moment, the weight of the door in your hands and the sting of the goodbye still sharp in your chest. But it was different this time. It was the first time you were letting go for good.

[medicinelarrie]

This still doesn't seem real.

[shitty-proendo-blackout-posts]

[the0ther-side0f-dawn]

just a little personal anecdote/ thought dump in the tags..

[melto]

my birthday week is like a fight for my fucking life.

[vanweezer]

very very personal, just insight into where im at w my family and things that bother me/have encouraged me to move out

"i know youre moving out so im just gonna say no ones kicking you out and if you feel like this is something you have to do then ok"

thanks! i know im not being kicked out! but yknow i kinda yet a weird vibe when your out of touch husband takes me to a cemetery to yell at me, tell me im just like my father/dont give my father "the time of day", and that im "mean to people who care about me" in front of his dead mother's grave in a poor attempt at guilting me out of speaking my mind. but no yeah thanks for stating the fucking obvious that im leaving on my own terms

[lucksea]

ok finished fionna and cake that was fucking awesome and if there are no scarab adventure time fans i am no longer of the earth. ok?

[bronze-main]

Vent under the cut and in the tags

Sometimes it feels like it's never gonna be ok. And I don't know what to do.

[yanoharuhito]

whatevers going on with vsynth twitter right now i feel like staying away from it ! i'm just excited for my utaus to be in a couple upcoming medleys... that's all...

[kurthorton-moving]

I'm. Overwhelmed

[s0urte3th]

mom is bitching at me how i need to wear short sleeves TOMORROW, and just get over it

[tittysuckersworld]

vent tw, if you have depression please please just dont interact-

[arsenicflame]

adding onto this with developed thoughts

I do largely think the processing he has done is about the leg, and not his relationship with Ed, and that he's conflating one with the other, acting like because he's 'fine' now with having lost his leg, that also means he's fine with it being Ed who did it to him.

I don't think his relationship with Ed is in any way fixed because of this (I think the fact that they have very specifically not had a single conversation, not been in a single shot together since is a huge signifier of that) its more that this one (very large) aspect is something Izzy has managed to put into the past with the help of the crew.

I think Izzy's known Ed long enough to not be expecting any further apologies (past his non specific non apology to the crew) and knows from here on out he needs to deal with his feelings on his own, needs to learn to move on and move past if he wants to stay here (and oh, he wants to stay here now)

Izzy's been cleaning up Ed's messes for so long, its a hard habit to kick- what's one more? what's one more when its him?

i think the reason izzy can be so blasé about his relationship with ed is not because hes taken to blaming a shark instead, but because hes actually already done a lot of the processing in the previous episode.

hes mourned his leg, hes had his drunk crying rants. hes gone through the five stages of grief. and then? the crew reaches out to him, offers him their support. they make him a new leg, they nominate him their new figurehead. when he stands there on the prow of the ship, leg on, letter in hand, thats his acceptance, thats his moving on.

[milfr0t]

Toji knows something is up with you. For the past few weeks, he had caught you staring down at his hands miltiple times. Yes, his hands.

You two would be having casual conversations and your eyes would keep glancing down repeatedly at his hands. At first he thought he was just overthinking it, maybe you were just staring at something else and he was reading into it too much. But that theory quickly proved to be false when he accidentally saw you gulping at the sight of his hands on the steering wheel when he was driving.

One night while you two were just hanging out in the car after a date, he decided he could not take the suspense any longer. "Ma" he blurts out and you hum to him in reponse, eyes still glued to your phone screen. "You know I can tell when you’re staring at my hands, right?" Your face instantly freezes up the second those words leave Toji's mouth.

Shit. So much for being secretive.

"Huh?" you pretended to not have a clue in what he was saying, secretly praying that the ground opened up to swallow you whole at that instant. "Stop acting like you dont know what I'm talking about, baby" he says firmly, staring at you and waiting for a response.

"Fuckk…" you cover your face with your arms and turn to face the car door, completely ashamed that you got caught by Toji. "Its just…" you fidget with your fingers as you try to figure out how to break it to him. "Its just what?" Toji says, waiting patiently for you to put your words together.

"Its just that uhm.." you are looking everywhere but at Toji. "I have a hand kink," you slur your words together quickly, cowering your head in shame because you just feel like a pervert now. Toji chuckles at the sight of you avoiding his gaze, loving just how shy you get around him. You two have gotten intimate for a couple of times now, but you still get shy when talking about things like that.

"What am I gonna do with you, mama" he says as he grins, cupping your face up to make you look up at him. Too shy to say anything else, you press a kiss to his lips instead and feel him smile against your lips. He kisses you back, slowly moving his lips to place kisses all along your jaw all the way to your ear. He tugs on your ear lightly with his teeth, continuing to place wet kisses down your neck.

"Is this what you wanted, doll?" he whispers lowly, tracing his fingers along your lips. He stops right where your mouth is ajar, thick fingers slowly pushing inside your warm mouth.

"Such a dirty girl."