Jinx and Ekko begin to redefine what they mean to each other, finding warmth and intimacy in a peaceful moment together. Post Season 2 Timebomb.
They don't kiss often—not because they don't want to, but because they never really figured out where they stand with each other. It took time after Jinx came back to Ekko, time to rebuild the fragile bridge between them. But there were fleeting moments—like the forehead kiss Ekko left her with that first night she showed up, after hours of talking, opening up, and piecing together what had actually happened, before tucking her into the treehouse's spare couch and murmuring a quiet "goodnight." Or the cheek kiss Jinx impulsively gave him when she got too excited after he helped fine-tune the flamethrower she'd been tinkering with for days. And then there was that kiss—innocent, but undeniably real—the one they shared on a night when Jinx was too deep in her head, spiraling over whether she even deserved the care and happiness Ekko gave her, after everything she'd done.
Those moments felt significant to her, yet unspoken. They didn't address what they meant, and maybe that was safer for them both. But lately, something had shifted for Jinx. The moments between kisses—the laughter, the teasing, the quiet moments of trust—felt more meaningful than the uncertainty of what they were waiting for. She didn't want them to be defined by fleeting, half-realized moments anymore, by kisses born from chaos or impulsiveness. She wanted them to know. To stand on solid ground together, not in the hazy in-between.
Ekko stood at the tiny counter of the treehouse's makeshift kitchen, cutting up vegetables with the steady precision he applied to everything. The air smelled of spices and sizzling oil, a simple yet warm contrast to the cold scent of Zaun outside. Jinx sat on the counter next to him, swinging her legs back and forth, occasionally reaching over to steal bits of chopped carrot and pop them into her mouth.
"Do you mind?" Ekko asked, shooting her a mock-annoyed glance. "You keep doing that, and there won't be anything left for dinner."
"Pfft," Jinx said, grinning mischievously as she grabbed another piece. "What are you gonna do? Stop me? I'd like to see you try."
"Oh, I will," Ekko replied, setting the knife down and crossing his arms. His eyebrow quirked, a playful challenge in his eyes.
Jinx leaned closer, her grin widening. "You're all talk, Mr Firelight. Bet you're too soft to—"
In a swift, precise motion, Ekko snagged her wrist mid-reach and lightly flicked her forehead with his other hand. She gasped dramatically, clutching her head like he'd just wounded her.
"Betrayal!" she exclaimed, her voice overly theatrical. "I thought we were working together!"
Ekko snorted, shaking his head as he turned back to the cutting board. "Since when is eating all the food before it's even cooked working?"
"Maybe your food's just too good," Jinx shot back, hopping down from the counter to stand next to him. She reached for another piece of carrot, but this time Ekko was ready, swatting her hand away before she could grab it.
Their banter continued as they worked together, Jinx bouncing around the small kitchen space while Ekko tried to keep some semblance of order. She'd stir the pot too vigorously, spilling broth onto the stove, or make dramatic commentary about the vegetables he was cutting. "Look at this carrot. Poor thing didn't stand a chance," she said at one point, holding up a slice like it was some fallen soldier.
But Ekko just laughed, shaking his head as he handed her a wooden spoon to stir with. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"You like it…" she quipped, winking at him.
He rolled his eyes, but the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away. "Mmhm,"
They fell into a rhythm, a natural back-and-forth that felt easy in a way neither of them had fully understood at first. For all their sharp edges and complicated histories, moments like this reminded them that they could carve out something soft, something new.
Jinx, stirring the pot with one hand, suddenly paused and glanced at Ekko. He was leaning slightly over the counter, focused on the task of slicing the last bit of onion. His brow furrowed just enough to make her smile—a little thing she noticed he always did when he was concentrating. The light in the room cast a faint glow on his face, and for a moment, she just… watched him.
It hit her, then, how far they'd come. From shared glances that carried years of pain to moments like this, where they could laugh and tease like they didn't have the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Before she could think too hard about it, Jinx moved. She set the spoon down and turned toward him, her movements quick but deliberate. Ekko barely had time to look up before she was there, her hand gently brushing his jaw as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss wasn't rushed or messy—it was soft and warm. It was a choice, clear and intentional, and that made it feel all the more real.
For a split second, Ekko froze, caught off guard, but then he melted into it, his hand coming up to rest lightly on her waist. The kiss lingered, quiet and steady, until she finally pulled back just enough to meet his gaze.
"Whoa," he said softly, blinking at her like she'd just short-circuited his brain.
"Whoa?" Jinx repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's all you've got?"
"What was that for?" Ekko asked, still processing.
"I… well," Jinx said, her lips curving into a small, almost shy smile. "Every time we kiss... it's like one of us is falling apart, or we just catch each other off guard. I don't want it to be like that anymore. I just want this to be us. A new normal, you know? No more surprises, no more breaking. Just… this."
Ekko stared at her for a moment, her words sinking in. Then, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. "A new normal, huh?"
"Exactly," Jinx said, her grin growing wider, a spark of her usual energy returning. "Besides, you should've seen your face. Totally worth it."
"Doesn't that kinda defeat the point of no more surprises?" Ekko teased, his voice warm as his hand lingered on her waist. "But for the record… I'm good with this being our new normal."
Without hesitation, Ekko closed the space between them, pressing a quick, tender kiss to her lips. It was soft but certain, carrying all the warmth of his words. Jinx remained rooted where she was, her grin spreading wider as happiness lit up her eyes.
"Good," Jinx said simply, giving him a playful shove before grabbing the spoon again. "Now, keep chopping. Dinner's not gonna cook itself."
Ekko chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up the knife. The warmth of the kiss still lingered, but so did the ease between them—their laughter, their rhythm. Maybe this was their new normal. And honestly? He couldn't think of anything better.
No because what do you mean they were best friends as kids and Ekko had a crush on her, and then he tries to ‘rescue’ her from Silco but she doesn’t want to go with him and they end up on opposing sides as enemies and he insists that ‘Powder is gone, only Jinx is left’ but he paints a mural for Powder as one of the people they’ve lost and when he has the chance to kill her he can’t bring himself to do it because he still cares about her and she tries to blow them both up because she views death as mercy and wants to die with him and then he gets sent to another universe where she’s still Powder and he falls in love with her all over again and he goes back to his universe convinced he can save her and he has to watch her kill herself over and over again before managing to convince her to live and join the fight and they do and he wears her paint and then she just… dies anyways and now he’s lost her for like, the NINTH TIME
Just Ekko and Jinx taking a nap together. Takes place sometime well after season 2. In my mind Jinx found her way back to Ekko after the whole "dying" thing... the details aren't important lol. Complete timebomb fluff because I literally need to see more of them.
Ekko was stretched out on the old, slightly lumpy couch, his arms folded behind his head as he tried to enjoy a rare moment of peace. The weight of the day hadn't quite settled yet, and he figured he had maybe fifteen minutes before someone—or something—demanded his attention.
But then, as if on cue, Jinx appeared.
Without warning, she flopped down on top of him, her full weight pressing into him as she made herself at home. Her cheek landed right on his chest, her arms loosely draped around his sides, and she let out a contented sigh.
"Jinx," he said with a half-hearted groan. "Seriously?"
"Shh," she muttered, squirming slightly as she tried to find the perfect spot. "I'm busy."
"Busy doing what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, though he made no attempt to move her.
"Napping," she replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She tilted her head slightly, her face now nestled against the crook of his neck. The warm puff of her breath sent a small shiver down his spine, and he could feel her body completely relax against his.
Ekko sighed in defeat, his hand instinctively coming up to rest on her back. "You do realize this couch is big enough for two people, right? You don't have to flatten me every time."
"But you're better," she mumbled into his neck, her voice muffled but unmistakably soft. "The couch isn't safe."
"Safe?" Ekko echoed, caught off guard. He tilted his head slightly to glance down at her, but all he could see was her blue hair spilling over his shoulder.
"Mmhm," she hummed, her voice quiet and almost shy. "You're safe. Like… I don't know. My brain won't shut up, and I'm always—" She stopped abruptly, her arms tightening slightly around him. "But when I'm with you, it's… different. Feels like I can actually breathe…"
Ekko's chest tightened, her words hitting him in a way he didn't expect. He didn't say anything at first, afraid of ruining the moment, but his hand began tracing slow, soothing circles on her back.
"You're safe with me, Jinx," he said quietly, his voice steady and warm. "Always."
She didn't respond right away, but the way she nestled even closer to him said enough. Her breath was warm and soft against his skin, her weight grounding in a way that didn't feel heavy at all. If anything, it felt… right.
"I don't remember when I started doing this," Jinx murmured after a while, her voice drowsy. "Laying on you, I mean..."
Ekko's smile softened, his hand continuing its slow, soothing motion along her back as her words echoed in his mind. I don't remember when I started doing this, she'd said.
But Ekko did.
Her words reminded him of that night—the one he'd never forget.
It had been a while ago now, in her old hideout, a chaotic mess of wires, explosives, and half-finished projects that mirrored her restless mind. She'd been standing on the edge of that propellor, a detonator clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles turned white. The sight had stopped him cold, his breath hitching at the sheer exhaustion etched into her face. She looked so small, so fragile—like a ghost of the girl he used to know. Her hair was cut, her eyes sunken, and when she glanced at him, the hollow, desperate look in them broke something inside him.
"Go away, Ekko," she'd rasped, voice cracking as if the words themselves cost her more than she had to give.
But he hadn't left. He couldn't.
After multiple attempts of his Z-Drive he finally managed to get her to listen. He sat cross-legged on the floor a safe distance away, talking—just talking. About anything and everything. His memories of Zaun, stories of their childhood, the ridiculous escapades they used to get into. He carried the conversation like a lifeline, hoping to pull her back from the edge she was teetering on.
Eventually, her grip on the detonator slackened. Her walls crumbled, piece by piece, until she was crying—sobbing—harder than he'd ever seen her cry. Between the broken gasps and hiccups, her words came spilling out in jagged pieces. About Isha. About Vi. About Silco and how "everyone who gets close to me dies, Ekko."
He hadn't known what to say to that. What could he say? He'd just held her as she cried, his arms tight around her as if he could somehow shield her from the ghosts that haunted her.
Eventually, her exhaustion had won. She'd laid her head on his shoulder, her breaths slowing, the tension in her body easing as sleep claimed her. Ekko didn't move, his eyes fixed on her face, taking in every detail—the faint streaks left by her tears, the way her lashes rested softly against her cheeks, the curve of her lips now free from their usual smirk or sneer. She looked different like this—quiet, calm, almost vulnerable. It struck him how rare this was, how long it had been since he'd seen her without the weight of everything pressing down on her. In that moment, she wasn't Jinx the loose cannon, the living storm. She was just her. Peaceful in a way he couldn't remember ever seeing before.
That night, as her soft breaths evened out against his shoulder, he'd made a silent promise to himself. Whatever it took, however hard it got, he'd always be there for her. Always. Even if she never believed it, even if she never asked, he'd stay. Because someone had to. Because he wanted to. Because beneath all the chaos and sharp edges, she was still the girl he'd once known, and he couldn't lose her again.
Jinx's drowsy murmur brought him back to the present. "I just… it's nice."
Ekko's lips curved into a small smile, and his hand stilled briefly before brushing through her hair again. "It is," he admitted, his voice soft. "Even if you're basically smothering me."
"Shut up," she grumbled, but there was no real bite in her tone. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her nose brushing against his cheek so she could look at him. "You like it."
"Maybe," Ekko teased, though the warmth in his voice gave him away. His fingers continued their gentle path through her hair, untangling a few strands absentmindedly.
For a while, they just lay there in silence, the quiet hum of the room wrapping around them like a blanket. Jinx's breathing started to slow, her body growing heavier as she drifted closer to sleep. Ekko tilted his head slightly, resting his cheek against the top of her head. Her hair smelled faintly of gunpowder and something sweet, and he found himself smiling again.
As Jinx dozed, Ekko stayed still, his arms holding her securely against him. It wasn't often she let her guard down like this, and he wasn't about to ruin it. If being her safe place meant letting her sprawl all over him and nuzzle into his neck whenever she wanted, then he'd gladly be that for her.
After all, nothing in the world felt quite as right as this.
